#In hindsight there are a lot of words on here that are probably not needed

[strawbeerossi]

Trapped In A SUV

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Unit Chief!Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever you and Spencer are on the way to investigate the house of a suspected unsub, the SUV breaks down in the middle of nowhere. It’s a shame that you are both practically cooking in the Texas heat.

Content/Warnings: Case matter but nothing specific, extreme heat, undressing, Spencer is a bit of a pervert, car sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 1.6K

Kinktober Day Thirteen: Car Sex

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

The sound of the engine completely blowing out had you groaning softly as the smoke was coming from the hood of the car. In hindsight, you two probably shouldn’t have left in such a hurry in the first car you could get your hands on. However with a search warrant to search the house of a suspected unsub who you’ve been hunting for days, there was no time to waste.

Until you were stuck on the side of the road, your hand shielding your eyes from the harsh sun as Spencer tugged open the SUV’s hood to be met with a black cloud of smoke. “Jesus,” He muttered, using his hand to waft away the evidence of a vehicle that needed urgent repair. “We are stuck here until someone can pick us up.” You filled in the unit chief as you frowned softly. “Emily said that they had a lead when I was texting her. They will be here whenever they can get here..”

“Of course. That’s just our luck isn’t it.” The male pursed his lips as he pushed the hood shut. “We should get back in the car before we melt out here.” You commented, already feeling beads of sweat forming from the blistering heat. 

“We won’t melt but it’s a good idea. The engine isn’t too far gone to the point we won’t have AC. I’m trying to avoid a heat stroke.” Spencer spoke while heading to the drivers side while you had returned to the passenger seat. The blow of the air wasn’t as strong as you preferred it to be but you counted your blessings, you could’ve been stranded and left to cook in the heat.

“Well. I guess you and I are on our own.” He murmured, his gaze on you while his eyes were widening as he watched you work to unbutton your shirt. “What? I’m sweating my ass off. It’s not like I’m getting completely naked.” You stated, now moving to shrug the button up off of your shoulders and tossing it to the side. “You’ve seen a woman in a bra, I’m sure.” You muttered while leaning back against the seat. 

His golden eyes were focused on your chest once your eyes were closing, the swell of your breasts being eye-catching in the black bra. It was like they were threatening to spill over the lace. His cheeks were bright red as he noticed a bead of sweat trail down your chest as it rose and fell steadily from your breathing.

He could feel his pants tighten, constricting his hardening cock as he gazed at your body. As he was so focused though, he hadn’t noticed your eyes opening or the fact that he caught you. The hungry look on his face had you intrigued. You didn’t expect for him to be watching you so intently, to have to look as if he was holding himself back from touching your bare skin. “Would you mind if I took my pants off too? I’m burning up here.” 

“W-what? I mean, if it’ll be comfortable go ahead..” His voice was at a higher pitch, feeling caught as he was bringing his hands up to loosen his tie. 

“You know that you can shed some clothes too, right? I highly doubt the team will judge us.” You suggested, biting back a smirk of amusement while Spencer was letting out a squeak in response. “I don’t know.” He began, his own body going against him as his hands were moving to undo the buttons on his shirt. Waiting for the rest of the team was gonna be fun, at least. 

After both of you were stripped down, it was like Spencer was desperately avoiding your gaze, his face cherry red. This was a lot. He wasn’t actually thinking that anything but embarrassment would come out of even attempting to look at your body again. You obviously caught him staring.

You’d turned up the air the best you could, leaning forward. With a moan of satisfaction at the coolness hitting your skin, you turned your head to face Spencer for a reaction. His body was frozen in place as he kept his gaze out the windshield, the smoke coming out of the hood less than it was earlier. The moan was enough to make him shift uncomfortably from his throbbing cock in his pants. 

“Hey,” You began while leaning over the console separating you both, offering a smile. “What are you thinking about?” You mused, knowing all too well what you were doing as you were squeezing your arms together slightly, making your tits push up in the bra you had on. 

“I-I was just thinking of how, uh, hot it is outside.” And here. Jesus. 

“You’re so red, oh, Spence..” You gave a faux pout while bringing a hand up to pat his cheek, thumb running over his skin. Spencer felt like he was going to have a heart attack. This was a lot to handle and you seemed to be eating up every reaction. “I’m fine..” He spoke softly while leaning into your touch.

What happened next happened in a flash, you pushed yourself over the small barrier between you both before you were settled in his lap. The man’s face was red, eyes widened and mouth agape in shock as your clothed cunt was brushing over the very obvious bulge in his underwear. 

“I knew it! You were looking at me!” You laughed in victory, hands moving to rest against his shoulders once his long arm was scrambling to push the car seat back to make sure that you were comfortable without having to be shoved against the steering wheel.

“Can you blame me? You practically got naked without needing any prompting.” Spencer found his voice again as he was bringing his hands to rest against your hips, thumbs running over your soft skin. “Plus.. You look so gorgeous, I can’t help it.” 

“Spencer.” You gush, nudging his shoulder while you offer a smile. It was your turn to feel your cheeks heat up from the compliment. “”Well.. I can assist you with getting rid of your… Issue.” You wiggled your eyebrows while moving to test the waters of rolling your hips against his, his breath hitching as he let his head tilt against the leather seat. “God, yeah, okay. I’ll bite. Help me out here.” He chuckled, his hands squeezing your hips while you leaned down to press your lips against his in a soft kiss. 

As your lips were slotting against one another, Spencer was in a frenzy to get your panties pulled to the side before letting his finger swipe through your folds and brush against your clit, grinning at the gasp muffled into his mouth. You were pulling from the kiss to lift your hips, using your hands to squeeze the tent in his boxers to elicit a groan before getting his cock out of his boxers. “I hate to rush this but I don’t think I can wait any longer.” The both of you were in agreement as Spencer’s hands were grabbing a handful of your ass before you were aligning his swollen tip with your leaking cunt and sinking yourself down.

Both of your groans mixed in the SUV, your ass hitting the front of his thighs as you gave yourself a moment to get adjusted. You could feel every curve, every vein as your cunt was welcoming the intrusion. Letting your hips roll at a slow pace, you were bringing your hands to grip his shoulders. 

“Does it feel good? Bet you’ve wanted to do this for years. You like fucking your boss while on the job?” Spencer’s words caused a moan to rip from your throat. “What about you? Fucking your subordinate because you couldn’t keep your eyes to yourself?” You spoke back while Spencer chuckled. “You had your tits out, I’m a man. We are pretty notorious to have an attraction to the female physique.” He chuckled.

“Fair enough,” you spoke softly while continuing with your movements, getting into a good rhythm that was eventually disturbed by the male thrusting upwards, your pussy swallowing his thick cock with no issue. 

“Fuck, don’t stop.” You cursed, the windows fogging over from the actions inside as a thin layer of sweat was spreading over both of your bodies, the smell of sex starting to fill the SUV, the vehicle rocking at a steady pace as you both were wrapped up in your rendezvous.

As you fucked like rabbits, you were leaning down to press your lips against his once more. You never thought of having sex with him in a car before, mainly because you always believed it would’ve been different. Maybe after being put together in the same hotel room or the both of you letting out pent up stress in Spencer’s office.

“I’m gonna cum.” Spencer warned, voice husky as he let out a deep groan at the way your velvety walls were clenching around him, his cock twitching inside of you. “Ah!” He panted, a bruising grip on your hips as he roughly thrusted upwards, damn near making your head hit the roof of the car. 

The sheer force behind each thrust was enough to have your body trembling, your head falling onto his shoulder as you let out a soft cry of his name, teeth biting down onto his shoulder as your creamy cum was rolling down his cock. He wasn’t deterred, instead now groaning as he couldn’t help but follow right behind. You could feel his cum gush inside of your cunt, eyes fluttering shut as you clutched his shoulders as your partially clothed bodies were pressed against one another’s while coming down from the high of your mixed orgasms. 

“I guess I should probably get off of you, huh?” Your words were slurred while Spencer let your hand gently rub your back. “Not yet..” He chuckled, pointing the air vents towards the both of you.

“We have a little bit. Let’s just enjoy the air.”

[maybefalsefacts]

First Kiss

Logan doesn't like parties. It's too many people he doesn't know in too small of a space.

That said, he can't say no to Wade. And Wade wanted to invite his family over for New Years.

In hindsight, it's probably good there are other people in the apartment to distract him from the revelry outside. Distant cheers often sound like screams.

So, here he is, squished between Laura and Wade on the couch. Two party hats have been put on his head, one on either cowlick to give him more prominent 'kitty ears'. (The things he does for Wade 🙄)

He's been cutting back on the alcohol a lot recently. Both because he doesn't have a lot of money, and because he doesn't really feel the need to be black-out drunk 24/7 to deal with the curse of existence.

In other words, this is only his 5th glass of (awful tasting) champagne. Still, he drinks it like soda as the night progresses, focusing on Wade to distract him from the call of the good whiskey on top of the fridge.

And before Logan even realizes it, it's 23:59. Everyone has gathered around the TV and are counting down. Logan can hear people out on the street echoing them.

15

14

13

Wade turns to him and starts batting his eyelashes. "Will you be my New Year's kiss?"

It's a joke. Logan knows that. So, rolling his eyes, he answers with just as much seriousness, "Sure, Bub."

9

8

7

Wade gives an exaggerated gasp and puts a hand to his heart. "Really, Wolvie? You mean it!?"

4

3

2

Wade puckers his lips right on time.

And Logan leans in.

He's not really sure why. He doesn't really expect to make it all the way. Its just a joke.

Right?

But then their lips do touch.

And Wade gives the tiniest of gasps.

Their eyes lock, a million questions passing between them. Logan watches as Wade's eyes dilate. Hears Wade's heartbeat quicken. Smells the excitement and anticipation rolling off of him.

And, as if by some sort of signal, both of them close their eyes. Both of them lean in.

And when their lips touch again, there are fireworks.

Logan brings his free hand up to cup Wade's cheek, cradling him gently. And Wade's hand closes on Logan's wrist, keeping him from pulling away.

And Logan can't hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears.

Can't smell anything other than Wade's perfume and body wash.

Can't taste anything other than Wade and the champagne they've been drinking.

Can't feel anything other than Wade. Wade's shoulder leaning on his. Wade's leg pressed to his. Wade's lips on his. Wade's tongue dancing with his.

Logan is so completely consumed by Wade.

And, honestly, he can't think of a better place to be.

Fin.

[stevesgother]

Savior Complex - S.H

Paring - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.9k

Warnings - Blood. Mention of vomit. Partial nudity. Let me know if I missed anything!

Authors note - This is my first fic...ever. Constructive criticism always welcome but pls be nice. Takes place directly after the events of S3. Hurt/comfort, angst, acknowledging Steve’s trauma bc damn.

Summary: ANGST, hurt/comfort, happy ending but not a lot of resolution, friends to ? lovers? idk its up to you!

Inspired by my favorite poem of all time, that has always reminded me a little bit of Steve.

“In this space right here that we have made for each other, you can say anything and I will not abandon you. Unwrap the worst things you have done. Watch me hold them up to the light and not even flinch”

The air inside Steve’s car was heavy with tension and the thick July heat.

You sat parked in his driveway, the rest of The Party having dispersed to their own homes; their parents waiting for them with open arms and misty eyes. 

Not you. 

And Certainly not Steve Harrington.

You and Steve weren’t what you would call “close”. Until now, that is. Shared trauma tends to have that effect. He knew you had a tumultuous relationship with your parents, and it didn’t take much deducing to realize his parents weren’t in the picture. Barely in Indiana, let alone spending anything close to quality time with their only son.

The idea of spending the last few hours of this nightmarishly long day in his big, empty house was sounding lovelier by the minute. On the grounds that it ‘wasn’t safe to be alone right now’. You didn’t read too much into it; he was right, after all. Part of you wonders if he just didn’t want to be alone. Sluggish, and noticeably more bloodied than you, Steve made his way to the front door with you in tow. His house was silent; eerily so. Everything pristine and well manicured, as if no one lived there at all. 

“There’s a guest bedroom upstairs, and a bathroom down the hall, to the right. Towels in the cabinet next to the shower.” He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. You try not to feel like you’re burdening him, blaming his avoidance on the exhaustion and not the unwelcome presence of you in his home.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” He finally meets your gaze. The shiner he sports on his left eye is still swollen, but less so. The front of his sailor suit you once thought so endearing, is now stained with blood and vomit.

“You’re bleeding.” You say quietly. “You have -” you wince, “- open wounds on your face Steve. Probably a concussion too and that’s if we’re being modest.”

He wears a tight-lipped expression you can’t quite read. You can tell he’s frustrated, and his exhaustion is bone deep. It nags at your heart. Maybe that’s why you don’t just drop it when he answers you.

“Not my first rodeo, I’ll be fine just-” He pauses, “go shower, and get some rest. God knows this shit won’t just be over come tomorrow.”

You take a tentative step forward. “Please just…just let me help. I can disinfect the cuts around your eye. I was a girl scout! Though in hindsight I realize how useless that sounds and-” you’re rambling now; nervous.

“Stop.” You’re taken aback slightly by his tone, you haven’t known Steve to act hostile. Not in a long time. “I don’t need your help, and I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not ‘pity’ Steve! Why is it so hard for you to believe someone might want to help you?” You take a step forward from where you stand a few feet from him. You reach up to touch his forehead with the hope of better assessing his injuries.

‘Enough!” He swats your hand away, “God, I should’ve never offered for you to stay here. You think you’re some type of savior, but you’re not.”

His words feel like a knife to the chest. You knew what he was trying to do, you knew he didn’t really mean the things he said. Not when he’s like this. For the first time since you arrived tonight, you thought of how many times he’s had to come back to this empty, soulless house all alone. Damaged, emotionally and physically. Wounds he’s had to patch alone. No gentle caress of another’s hands. Just the stinging of antiseptic in his nostrils, and the heaviness of everyone he’s ever loved abandoning him.

“You don’t mean that.” You say, shaking your head in a disbelieving way.

He laughs, humorless, “Yes I do. I really, really do.” A bitter sharpness to his words. It burns like liquor washing down your throat. “Go.” 

“No!” Now you’re the one raising your voice. “Being stubborn is for when someone is haggling you at a flea market. Not when someone is trying to love you.”

Love. You realize what you’ve said a beat too late, but you stand defiant despite it. You do love Steve. This fact, collecting cobwebs in the back of your brain for months, being spat out onto the floor in front of you both is what compels you to what you do next.

Steve, who was previously standing with this index finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose, is now staring at you like a deer in headlights. Before either of you can blink, you’re closing the gap between the two of you, sure of yourself. You wrap him in a suffocating embrace and he struggles against your grip.

“Stop! Please I don’t need you-” He all but shouts. Still, you sense a dent in the armor.  A crack in the wall he’s spent so long building to keep you out; to keep everyone out.

Eventually, he stops struggling. His knees give out from underneath him as the trauma and the pain and the events of today catch up to him. But not just today; a year ago when his girlfriend broke his heart at Tina’s stupid party. When Michael Harrington cut him off on the grounds of him being a disgrace to the family name. Everything flooding back to him all at once. Everything he’s spent his youth avoiding.

You sink to the ground with him, still holding him tight. He stops making an effort to hide his sobs, but instead clings to you like you’re the only tangible thing keeping him here. You sit beside him, with one arm wrapped around his shoulders and your free hand cradling his head to his chest so he can hear your heartbeat. A heart that finally beats for him.

“I know.” You soothe. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” The hair you’re gently stroking, which is usually so voluminous and perfectly styled, is now dampened with blood and sweat.

“I’m sorry-” He sobs, “I'm so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t want you to be sorry. I’m not sorry.” 

He cries harder at that. Shoulders shaking and breath shallow, he looks at you. You cradle his sweet, bruised face in your hands. You think, like a pomegranate, Steve Harrington is beautiful, and worth the mess. Wiping his tears with your thumbs and careful to avoid the cuts and swelling that decorate his face, you give him a smile. Shy, but earnest.

“Can you take me to bed?” He asks you, eyes bleary.

–

Neither of you speak as you turn on the faucet and watch the porcelain tub fill with scalding hot water; still not hot enough to wash away the memories this day has tainted you both with forever. Tentatively, you lift your shirt over your head, and slip your shorts down your scraped legs, revealing your mismatched bra and underwear. A pang of guilt washes over you when you look down and realize Steve took the brunt of the Russian soldiers. He was the bravest and most selfless person you had ever met.

You give him a look that asks “is this okay?” as your fingertips brush the cotton of his ruined Scoops uniform. You aren’t sure what the boundaries are anymore. Momentarily Steve worries this will irreparably change things between you two. He nods anyway. You lift the shirt over his head, catching a glimpse at the real extent of his injuries. His ribs were badly bruised, and he had clotting cuts all over his abdomen. Something swirls in your stomach at the sight of his chest hair. You wish the circumstances of this moment were different.

He pulls his own pants and socks down with a hiss, eyes screwed shut, leaving you both in just your undergarments. He steps into the tub and slowly sinks beneath the hot water. You step in behind him, and he looks over his shoulder at you, a look of confusion contorting his features. You don’t bother to explain, for the fear that speaking would break the trance you both seemingly were under. You had built a space here for each other, one you didn’t want to leave just yet.

Sitting behind him now, you wrap your arms around his chest and pull him flush to you. You rest your chin in the space between his shoulder and his neck, and close your eyes. You can feel how he tries to match his breathing to yours; slow and rhythmic.

You reach up to the hanging shelf on the wall above your head, and grab the cedar and sandalwood body wash. The second you open the bottle, your senses are flooded with him. Only in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever get to smell his scent in any way other than passing. A slight brush of shoulders in the hallway; a friendly hug when you’d gotten back from a month long vacation.

With a dollop of body wash on a washcloth you found on the edge of the tub, you gently start to scrub the blood and grime off his freckled skin. Like this, you can see every birthmark, every scar, the way the hair at the nape of his neck curls up around his ears in the damp bathroom air.

Steve rests his calloused hand on your knee and squeezes. A silent reassurance that what you’re doing is okay, that he’s okay, that he’s here. Everything feels overwhelmingly intimate as your hands explore his body. You lather his thick, brown locks with the shampoo you found next to the soap. With a heavy sigh, Steve allows his head to fall back into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t tell you, but this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for him.

You’re not sure how long the two of you sit in the tub together, but at some point he turns to face you, cupping your jaw in his larger hand. The look he gives you is so tender, you think you might cry. His caramel eyes flicker to your lips and back up to your eyes, so fast you would’ve missed it if your senses weren’t dialed up to 11.

With the delicacy of someone touching a flower petal, he closes the gap and presses his cut lips to your soft ones. Hesitant at first, giving you the option to pull away. He fears he may have misread the moment when you separate from him, a look in your eyes that he can’t read. His worry dissipates as you take his face into both of your hands and kiss him deep and slow. You only break when the air feels too stiff to continue, the water droplets accumulating in the air and Steve's kiss making it difficult to catch your breath. His hands slide from where they were grasping your hair, and down to your neck where they stay.

“I love you, too.”

[tossawary]

You know, given all of the cloning and other evil experiments that Palpatine apparently had going on, it's a little remarkable in hindsight that he never targeted Shmi Skywalker personally.

Like, this woman apparently reproduced asexually and gave birth to one of the most powerful Force-sensitives of all time; I don't generally characterize Sith Lords as having great scientific curiosity or a sense of wonder for the universe (or bothering to remember "little" people exist most of the time), because their whole deal kind of precludes that, but it seems reasonable that one might conclude that there's potential power in investigating this.

If Anakin was friendly with Palpatine for the latter half of his childhood, it seems like it could have been relatively easy for Palpatine to learn things like 1) Anakin's midichlorian count (which he can use to tell Anakin that everyone else is just jealous of his power) and 2) Shmi's situation on Tatooine (which he can use to foster resentment between Anakin and the Jedi Order for not helping Shmi too). Just get Anakin a little frustrated and he'll probably start talking! Palpatine could make some concerned offer to send someone to check on Anakin's mother - it is the least that Naboo can do for the family that helped to save them, the Chancellor might say, but he would prefer that such favoritism remain a secret between them - and then Sidious would have Watto's exact address no problem.

And it's not like it would be hard to kidnap Shmi. Palpatine (as Sidious?) could pick some random bounty hunter and order them to go buy her, because this amount of money is presumably pocket change to him, and if Watto resists selling her off to a stranger, the bounty hunter can claim that they've come on behalf of her son. And if that doesn't work or if Shmi is already with the Lars family, there's always violence. Palpatine can just lie to Anakin and say that his agent discovered Shmi was targeted by enemies of the Jedi Order. Oh, what a shame they didn't protect her!

I don't know what would happen from here. Sidious could potentially contract the Kaminoans as a private, anonymous citizen to research Shmi and see if she'll be useful to him at all; the Kaminoans seem to be in the business of designer babies for specific clients (Jango + my vague memories of some "Clone Wars" comic). Which means that Shmi could be unhappily, awkwardly hanging around Kamino, probably still enslaved, when Jango Fett and the clones business is going on. For years, potentially.

Ideally for the Sith, the Kaminoans would be keeping Shmi in an entirely separate facility most of the time, away from the army intended for the Jedi and the Republic. But Jango might be sent around the planet on errands or something and the Kaminoans might need to use very specific equipment at some points, and I am a fan of grand plans being ruined by chance encounters or workplace logistics, so I think it would be fun if Shmi met Jango or Boba. Maybe Palpatine assumed that the Kaminoans had already disposed of Shmi or were keeping her on ice, due to a badly worded email or something else mundane, because the Kaminoan forgot the right Basic word (it's not their first language!!! or a translator malfunctioned or something) during their space phone call.

There's lots of Canon Divergence directions for this, like more serious angst or drama or thriller horror being imprisoned by a Sith Lord (somewhere besides Kamino) or discovering what's being done to the clones. Shmi could end up being rescued by Jedi and helping uncover Sidious. Or she could have a different tragic ending.

(This whole post regarding Shmi and cloning is partially inspired by that one post pointing out that Rey looks a lot like Shmi, and given the strange circumstances of Anakin's birth, any attempt to clone Anakin might have created a clone of Shmi instead. I still think a "Rey as Anakin's clone" is a fun sequel trilogy AU.)

I'm leaning towards fix-it and comedies of errors ideas because the prequels are tragic enough for me. Currently, I'm thinking about Shmi eventually ending up as part of young Boba Fett's gang somehow, because it's amusing to me that he was somehow a recurring antagonistic figure on that TCW show despite being a child. The other bounty hunters are like, "Kid, did you... bring your mom on this mission...?" And Boba Fett is like, "No!!! She's my ship mechanic!!! But if you touch her, just so you know, I will fucking kill you."

I think that both Anakin and Boba would fucking hate being adoptive brothers in any way, shape, or form. And the idea of Luke and Leia someday having an "Uncle Boba Fett" is also very funny to me.

(EDIT: I'm currently dubious regarding a Jango/Shmi ship because Jango does participate in the creation and enslavement of the clone army. Like, it's the Kaminoans who do it, they hold most of the blame and they would have gotten someone else if Jango hadn't done it, but Jango is very much there and at the very least complicit in a horrifying series of crimes against millions of people. Depending on how you characterize Shmi Skywalker, an enslaved woman, I don't really think she'd be cool with that. She let her child go off to become a Jedi because she thought it would be a much better life for him, while Jango sold his own "children" off into war for money. So, I'm currently thinking that Shmi might like the innocent child Boba, but she might honestly dislike Jango quite a lot.)

[samkerrworshipper]

acl’s | sam kerr x reader

this is me trying to work through my devastation but it’s 3am, i’m crying and writing this on my phone. :( it’s a blurb btw

you have to admit the timing of the call should be a little bit of a shock.

it doesn’t cross your mind when your girlfriends contact pops up on your phone, but in hindsight it probably should.

it’s not odd for sam to call you multiple times a day when she’s away on camp, if she has a spare minute here or there, so you are delighted when you see her face pop up on your screen.

you press the green button almost immediately, pulling your phone up to rest at your ear.

“Hiya chook, how’s the weather treating you?”

When you don’t get an immediate response you become a little bit worried, but nothing abnormal.

“Y/n? It’s Emma here.”

It’s when the voice of your fiancés coach hits your ears that you are immediately worried.

“Emma, what can I do for you?”

You’ve talked to Emma hundreds of times, but you can tell from her voice that this is different.

“Look, Sam’s just come off the pitch after a little incident, it’s looking like she’s done her ACL.”

Your gut wrenches, and it takes all of your power to stop your lunch from pouring out across the dining table your sat at.

“What?”

Your head immediately begins to reel, 9 months. That’s the Olympics, Emma’s last season at Chelsea, so many things that Sam has over this year that are now done.

Your mind goes back to Sam’s previous ACL injury, how she’d talked about how it had been the hardest thing mentally and physically for her, that it was almost the end of her career.

“It’s not looking good, we’ll have to wait until she’s had scans to confirm the severity but both her and our doctors are fairly certain it’s her cruciate ligament.”

You take a deep breath, fuck.

“Okay, okay. Is she okay?”

It’s a stupid question, of course she isn’t okay, she’s done her fucking acl, but your concern goes further than her obvious injury.

“She’s in a lot of pain, and she’s pretty torn up. Millie has been keeping her company but all she wants to do is talk to you.”

You nod your head, you know you shouldn’t have to prepare yourself to talk to her but you take your time to take a deep breath, keep yourself strong for her.

“Can you put her on for me please, Emma?”

You hear some bustling around.

“Of course, she wanted me to call you to get the facts straight, but i’ll put her on now.”

You hear a little bit more bustling before complete silence, and that seems to be your queue.

“Sammy, honey?”

You hear a deep, laboured breath crackling from the other side of the phone.

“I’m here.”

Her words are strung out, you know that Sam will be trying her hardest to keep it together, she simply isn’t one to be publicly over emotional, no matter the situation.

“Hi honey.”

You know the best thing right now is to leave her to talk about her injury, you leave ghe ball in her court.

“My whole year is over.”

You hear her voice break, and you know that she’s crying even though you can’t hear any sobs or evidence of tears.

“I’m right here chook, so are all the girls, whatever you need.”

When you hear a sob, it takes everything you have to not start crying with her.

“Need to see you, need you here.”

Sam’s not a needy person, so to hear her asking for something like this is concerning to you.

“How about I turn on facetime chook, will that make you feel a bit better?”

When you hear a little murmur of a ‘yes’ you click the button, waiting for it to connect once she accepts the request.

It’s a matter of seconds before you are met with the visual of Sam, her head resting on Millie's shoulder on a physio bed, tears cascading freely down her olive skin.

“Oh Sammy honey.”

She only begins to cry more, and you are fairly certain once this call ends you’ll be rushing straight to the bathroom to expel all of the bile that’s built up in your throat.

“I’m supposed to be captain, I need to be okay, I need to play the olympics, I couldn’t play the fucking world cup. This could be my last major tournament.”

You want to tell her that she’s being ridiculous, but it would achieve nothing, Sam needs to feel validated in her feelings right now, not like you and the whole world are against her.

“Sam this isn’t your fault, you couldn’t have avoided it, it was just a stupid freak accident, unfortunately it happens in the sport you play.”

Sam looks so broken, Millie’s matching her energy, the normally energetic blonde looking very sullen.

“What if this is it for me?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, it’s a stupid statement but a very real feeling that Sam has.

“Sam, how about I come to Morocco? I’ll catch the next flight out, and i’ll come and be there for you, is that something you want?”

You don’t want to step over her boundaries, but just the look on her face tells you that she needs to be comforted, she needs to cry and whilst her teammates are great, Sam is never going to be that vulnerable in front of them.

“You don’t have to.”

Her own statement contradicts every single feeling you can see inside her.

“I want to.”

Sam’s tears only begin to fall heavier.

“Please, I need you.”

[mitskicodedwukong]

✨ REDSON, SIX-EARED MACAQUE, & SUN WUKONG WITH AN ADHD S/O ✨

» three-thirty (AJR) « 0:45 ─〇───── 4:07

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝🍑╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ AUTHOR'S NOTE ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗🍑╔⏤⏤⏤╝ ➤ This is reposted from my old account, @nothyenlowz :3 ➤ These are headcanons. ➤ This is romantic. ➤ Reader is afab & uses she/her! ➤ I don't think I went as in depth as I could have been I still hope it's accurate and you enjoy it! ➤ TRIGGER WARNINGS include profanity, a little bit of angst, and minor violence. ➤ Word count: 1,361

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

❝ You wanna skip it if it's wordy, but fit the whole song in three-thirty .❞

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ REDSON 🔥 ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝

➤ before he finds out you have ADHD, i imagine he's confused by your behavior at best and frustrated by it at worst.

➤ your daydreaming and procrastination can be annoying for him, someone who's always about work, work, work. when you're talking to him about your fixations, he gets irritated because either he 1.) has no idea what you're talking about or 2.) thinks you're making fun of him since he often rambles about his inventions in a similar manner.

➤ he just doesn't understand why you're doing those things and neither do you. it causes a lot of struggles for you both initially, leading to shit communication and hurt feelings.

➤ when you're finally diagnosed, redson listens very closely. now your quirks are starting to make sense, but you still don't have as much information as he'd like. he researches ADHD in AFAB people rather meticulously on his own time (sometimes interrupted by his own anger at the lacking information for females), and by the end of it, he has a much improved understanding.

➤ and boy does he feel shitty. hindsight is 20/20 or something.

➤ the idea that he blew up at you for things out of your control makes him feel ashamed, especially when some of those things (like info-dumping) are signs of affection. so you don't see him for a while, partially due to some unhealthy self-punishment on his end, and also because he's trying to come up with a solution—that being a way to make it up to you, of course, not "fix" you.

➤ when redson stops avoiding you, he takes you out on a date with all your favorite activities and thoroughly apologizes to you. he promises to adjust his behavior to accommodate and support you.

➤ (which might have made you cry, considering you've always been treated like you're the problem.)

➤ true to his word, redson changes a lot. he leaves little notes for you as reminders, sets alarms for you, helps you finish or do tasks you don't have the energy for, etc. he even starts prompting info-dumping, reading up on the source material so he can ask questions.

➤ he also does his very best to educate himself on masking and burnout so he can a.) keep you from going there or b.) recognize the signs when you are there and help you. i like to imagine he made a sensory room for you that has all your favorite things and you can just go there to chill and unwind.

➤ he's also super protective over you. if people make fun of your stims, say you talk a lot, undermine your sensory issues, etc., he will DESTROY them. no way in hell is he letting you be disrespected like that. verbal smackdown, here we come.

➤ ultimately, it's a learning process. but it's one he's more than willing to thoroughly explore for you.

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤╝╚⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ SIX-EARED MACAQUE 🔮 ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤╗╔⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤╝

➤ HONESTLY i headcanon macaque as autistic, so i feel like he had a feeling that you were ADHD before you did.

➤ probably made jokes like "it's the ADHD lol" for certain behaviors until you decided to do some research on it and were like "🧍‍♂️ yeah so—"

➤ not surprised at all when you're diagnosed, obviously. he uses the opportunity to show you coping mechanisms he's learned (though some have to be tweaked for your needs since autism isn't ADHD), and even begins to unmask more around you (which was inevitable anyway tbh, but it's easier now that he doesn't feel so different from you).

➤ since macaque thrives under routine/structure, he often handles reminders. he also keeps you on track, verbally and physically, if you have things to do. ALSO is super on you about eating, since he likes cooking.

➤ macaque's experienced dozens of burnouts in his long life, so he knows how awful they are. he can sniff out a burnout a mile away so i'd like to think that you don't experience many while with him because he's really good at pacing the both of you/being aware of your emotional and mental state. the dojo's pretty chill like 90% of the time due to his own sensory issues so it's a good place to unwind and relax.

➤ you guys have picked up so many phrases from each other. he'll be working on a script for a shadow play while you're cleaning and he'll just hear you laugh and go, "wow, didn't see that one comin'." it definitely flusters him that he's included in your echolalia.

➤ macaque rambles to you about theatrical pieces from various cultures. if you introduce him to new ones, tell him something he doesn't know about a piece he's already familiar with, etc. he'll kiss you istg. anyway this is to say the feeling is mutual and he probably ends up getting into some of the media/hobbies you tell him about!

➤ you guys mutually bully each other lmao. you'll be trying to do some work, get to talking to him about whatever comes to you, and then suddenly it's three hours later. you're like "FUCK" and he just laughs at you (you get him back, of course, and it's all in good fun).

➤ he barely thinks beating anyone who talks shit about you is an overreaction, but if you don't like it then you'll just have a clone stick around in your shadow or something to scare the shit out of anyone who decides to open their mouth to you.

➤ in summary, macaque is very helpful and teaches you coping skills when it comes to sensory issues + overload.

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ SUN WUKONG 🍑 ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝

➤ first off, i headcanon Wukong as ADHD, too.

➤ with that said, i feel like Wukong just... assumed you knew you were ADHD and rolled with it.

➤ like you guys constantly quoted/repeated each other/shows and stimmed at/with each other. you'd get in loops. you'd adapt each other's phrases/stims. neurotypicals don't do that.

➤ it's genuinely amusing thinking about you two just repeating the same things at each other. it's such a serotonin boost and it makes you both laugh. same for when you stim together, especially hand-flapping and jumping up and down.

➤ you're both trash at remembering stuff but fortunately you seem to have an awful lot of capacity for the other—meaning you remind wukong he has a session with MK today because he forgot, and he reminds you that you agreed to make noodles with pigsy today because you forgot.

➤ i don't think remembering to eat or drink is a big problem for you, since wukong is a big comfort eater and shares his snacks with you so you kinda just... roll with it lol.

➤ wukong has a bunch of homemade stim tools. once he sees that you're interested, he makes some more for you. even after your diagnosis, you don't try "professionally" made stim toys—you just don't need them when wukong's work so well.

➤ you guys spend hours talking about your interests, ping-ponging off each other. like: "OH, did you know x?" "NO, but did you hear about x?" x1000.

➤ you guys also bully each other. "Hey Great Sage you forgot do the dishes again, you crusty bitch"; "says the dumbass who started folding laundry and then did a fashion show with the monkeys".

➤ like macaque, wukong's had his fair share of burnouts. unfortunately, he's not super good at preventing them or even realizing he's in them until it's been a few months, but you guys take care of each other if the other is struggling. you're also very aware of the other's limits so if one of you is pushing it, you can help each other step back.

➤ wukong learned a great deal of patience and mercy from his journey, so people being unkind to him doesn't really bother him. plus, he barely leaves his mountain as is—but if one of those times, someone doesn't to be a dick while you're stimming or something? best case scenario, he has some very choice words—worst case scenario, bro's taking it upon himself to remind the public why you should be more considerate of who you're snarking to.

➤ basically, nothing changes after you get diagnosed lol. you and wukong are very happy ADHD gremlins who are celebrating your neurodivergency :)

❝ I thought I had the ADHD, but that's a real thing (and I'm just lazy) .❞

[icallhimjoey]

Drown In You

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: In the shower with Joe, words get spoken that hold nothing back. This is the cut scene, the one entirely jumped over, from part 5 of Reinvent Love, remastered in full HD for your enjoyment. Full smut, little plot (although, read Reinvent Love because it'll help)!

CW / disclaimer: 18+, smut, language, rpf, fem!reader, reader has hair that needs to be brushed after showering

Author’s note: okay so the horny bitches in my inbox have let themselves be heard, and who am i to tell you no? here you go my cumcum twats, enjoy!

Wordcount: 3.2K

“I’ll wait.”

Old hair product mixed with sweat ran into your eyes as the shower stream hit you right over the head and… wait. What? You didn’t think you heard that right.

Joe was holding you, because you’d let the surface crack. You didn’t know if it was his repeated asking for you to talk to him, or if it was how he kept looking at you. But you’d cracked, and you’d seen Joe’s eyes flare for just a second, like what he’d been asking for actually didn’t turn out to be what he wanted. Immediate regret punched him right in the stomach when you showed the smallest bit of emotion.

Joe worried about you.

Worried he was pushing you further away whilst he was trying to keep you close.

Worried he had made mistakes too big to rectify.

Worried you were never going to tell him how you actually felt and he’d just have to go off body language, which, you’d been doing that and it had been fine, but some situations called for explanations.

Like this one.

He just thought you’d get angry with him. Not that you’d cry. In hindsight, he didn’t fully understand why that hadn’t been the expectation, though. You always felt with your whole body. Heavy emotion and tears always found you fast.

So he’d curled his arms around you then, and it took you a good while to control the spasms inside of your chest. You weren’t technically crying, you didn’t think, but if Joe was going to press you to talk one more time, you’d burst right into sobs.

And then he said, “I’ll wait.”

That made you look up at him, forcing him to slide one of his arms from around your head.

“I’ll wait for you. I can be patient.”

So you had heard him right.

The line in between your eyebrows grew deeper as you frowned at him, because what the fuck did he mean he was going to wait? And, in addition, what the fuck did he mean he could be patient?

Joe had just followed you around the flat trying to provoke you into arguing – that’s essentially what he’d been trying to do. Bold of him to claim he could be patient.

You were in the shower together and you knew Joe was just trying to say nice things by ways of comforting you, probably. You hoped that was what was going on. But he was getting it so wrong.

“But…” you started, trying to both make sense of what Joe meant whilst simultaneously thinking of how to tell him he was dead wrong. “I’m right here.”

And you had been.

Joe was the one that left.

You remembered Joe telling you, “Yea, you’re not going anywhere.” in a tender moment when you were trying your best to comfort him for a change, and you’d reacted the same then. Of course you weren’t going to go anywhere. You were there.

Always there.

“I’m right here.”

Joe blinked a couple of times, and looked a little lost, face blank and unassuming.

“I’m right– Joe, what do you mean, you’ll wait? Have we not been– is this not what we’ve been…”

Doing?

You couldn’t finish the sentence and furrowed your brow at how words seemed to escape you, all earlier bravery gone, because it sounded a lot like a big confession that you’d not vocalized before, and what if you were wrong?

What if Joe was going to tell you that, actually, no, what you were saying was not what you had been doing at all, you stupid bitch.

He wouldn’t say that.

But that’s what it would feel like if you were wrong.

Your brain was swimming, thinking thoughts and trying to draw conclusions where there weren’t any to be drawn when suddenly, it all clicked into place for Joe.

He was such an idiot.

Before you knew what was happening, Joe had you shrieking. He’d bent at the knees, got both arms around your waist and picked you up. It was a cute celebratory thing, because whatever you’d said had been all Joe had wanted to hear for weeks. But it was also really fucking terrifying, because you were in a wet slippery bath and you both had wet slippery bodies and the only way Joe was centering his gravity was by his face that was smushed against your chest and this was exactly how sometimes people got bad concussions.

“Joe–” you squeaked from your throat, and you were about to swear at him. Tell him to put you down. That he was a fucking idiot. That he was stupid and that this was dangerous, despite the smile that was already playing at your face.

But then before you could get any of that out, Joe let you slip down and kissed you hard, right on the mouth. Your back bent away from him and had you disappear into the shower stream, but Joe just followed, hands squeezing your sides and his lips roughly pressed to yours, not willing to break contact.

You tried wrapping your head around how you got from trying your best not to cry to being kissed in the way that you were, already feeling drunk on the giggles you were swallowing, and it felt a little ridiculous.

And then Joe spoke through his kisses and said words you didn’t think you would ever accept from him.

“I love you.”

But actually, it was fine.

You were surprised how easily joy bubbled up from deep inside your gut at hearing him mumble his confession. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth, but Joe kept his mouth right there.

“Joe,” you pushed him at the shoulders, and instead of moving away, Joe decided to move closer, feet squeaking against white acrylic. You got cornered until your back touched the tiles and you laughed as you turned your head to break the kiss.

Joe just followed, curled around and got you from the side and, “Joe!” you giggled, because there was water streaming straight into your face, and you knocked one of the shampoo bottles down into the bath, and Joe kept hogging your mouth and you needed that to breathe and– oh.

Joe was hard.

You felt it against your hip and Joe felt how it startled you slightly.

“No, I’m sorry. Ignore that,” you could hear how there was laughter stuck inside of his voice too, but there was something urgent there too.

“I love you. Did you hear me?” he bent to make eye contact, got your chin into his hand to force it. “I love you. I said I love–”

“I love you too.”

The wet words slipped out before your brain could even catch up to it, voice way softer than Joe’s, but you didn’t mean the words any less.

Somehow it was an easy thing to say. It helped that Joe said it first, so you were just parroting which didn’t feel half as embarrassing as you imagined it could have been.

Your words stilled Joe’s whole body, just for a moment, completely frozen, and then he groaned with both eyes squeezed shut and let his head fall, face first into your shoulder.

You grinned when you looked down and saw the direct effect of what you’d said.

Made you want to say it again.

“I love you too,” you made it sound extra breathy that time, not even sure if Joe would be able to hear it over the shower water clattering into the bath, but you could tell he caught the words fine from the way Joe’s knees gave out for a split second, dick jumping and already leaking.

You loved Joe.

“Hey, I love you. Did you hear me? I said I lovemmpf–” Joe got a hand over your mouth just for the sheer agony of what it was doing to him. You took your shot and bit right into his fingers as you smiled.

“Stop it, you’ve got to– you can’t–”

Joe didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence. You got him back in the best way; with wet kisses and with scraping teeth. With hands in his hair that you used to push him right against your face. With a leg that hiked itself up until your knee touched his hip, prompting Joe to get his hands under your ass, lifting you up and pushing you against the wall in an attempt to slip inside.

But all of it was too slippery.

Too wet.

And you were laughing too much to make it work.

So you kissed, with both feet sort of steady in the bath and let your hands touch bits of Joe that made him flinch.

You were sharing your first shower together, and it felt sort of momentous.

“I love you,” Joe said again like they were the only words he knew how to use now, dragging his lips down your throat, pressing kisses to your chest.

“I love you, too,” you replied, biting your teeth into your bottom lip whilst working both hands on him, using one underneath and making Joe gasp.

Joe kept trailing down more until he kneeled and you lost your grip on him. Without warning he pressed his whole face into you, and both your hands found his shoulders as you worriedly tried pushing him back.

“No, Joe,” you pushed until you could look him in the eye. “Stop, baby, you’ll drown.”

Baby.

Joe looked up at you and quirked his eyebrows as he smirked, both because you’d never called him baby before and because of the double entendre.

You meant that Joe could drown because you were in the shower and if his mouth was busy, surely he would end up inhaling the water that ran down your body until he’d fucking choke.

Joe, however, took it to mean something else.

And he wasn’t exactly wrong, either.

“I mean…” he started, making eye-contact with what was right in front of him. Pretty. Glistening. Dripping. Joe was about to say some stupid shit aloud, was about to say that he loved her, maybe even just as much as he loved you, because, Jesus Christ, he really fucking did.

“I’ll happily drown in you.” he got a small kiss in where he wanted to so desperately kiss you, but then you laughed and said, “No. No drowning today.” as you sunk down to your own knees, joining him sat down in the tub.

Joe easily accepted you, hands finding yours to help you down safely, happy to oblige and move to where you wanted him to be, which was sat on his arse where the water hit him overhead.

With his eyes barely open, he grinned widely as you moved to sit on his lap, one knee either side of him, arms slung around his neck. It was a tight fit and skin squeaked against the side of the tub. Joe thought that surely this couldn’t actually be nicer than him getting mouth on you, but, sure.

Your pace, remember?

Your lead.

“I love you,” you mouthed as you went in for open-mouthed kisses which Joe happily accepted, pulling you into him hard, trapping himself in between the two of you and starting quick little tilts of his hips. You helped by finding a rhythm of your own, rubbing over him and holding Joe as close as you could to add pressure where he was so clearly looking for it.

“I love you,” Joe breathed in reply, and they were barely even words at this point. Just wet vowels falling from a gasping mouth that tried telling you how good this already felt, and that he wasn’t even inside yet.

Joe’s lips tinged just as shiny red as the tip of him, and you weren’t sure if you were working up a sweat more now than you had during your run, but you knew that this activity was much preferred over the other.

When you finally lifted up just slightly more and used your fingers to line Joe up to slip inside, you saw how droplets of water spat from his lips as he mouthed a desperate, “Please.”

Joe didn’t need to beg.

But it was lovely when he did.

Made you stall, just to hear him say it again. Have him ask extra nicely.

You felt how Joe’s grip on your hips strengthened, fingertips digging deeper into your flesh.

“Please, please. Baby, please, can you–”

You sunk down onto him, making him disappear inside of you entirely. The loud moan that escaped you surprised Joe enough to move a panicked hand up to cover your mouth.

That just made you whine louder.

“Shh– shhh–,” Joe trembled through shushes, trying for eye-contact, “You can’t– you... you gotta be quiet. You...” Joe faltered, hand moving to hold you by the side of the face, fingers disappearing into wet strands that were then used to pull you in closer to kiss.

God, he fucking loved you so much.

Could you feel it? Could you feel how anguished he felt that he only had two hands to touch you with? Could you feel how feverish and lightheaded you made him feel? Could you feel how there was a deep craving inside of him that only you could satisfy for him?

He wanted you to feel it.

Feel his love.

Joe wanted you to feel how much he loved you, so he used his mouth where he could, and used his hands where he could, and he imagined how the water running down the two of you was getting rid of all the bullshit.

You were being cleansed of all the bad until there’d be only good left.

You were having sex in the bath until it’d be nothing but just love there.

You rode Joe in the bath until your knees starting hurting too much. Until the water than ran down both your faces became too annoying. Until your hands knocked all the other bottles of shampoo and conditioner into the bath behind Joe. Until Joe got too freaked out that he couldn’t shut you up, and wasn’t that an insane contrast to whatever he had been trying to do the night before?

You hadn’t minded Joe trying to get you to be loud.

But Joe trying to get you to stay quiet was infinitely better.

It made you want to be bratty about it. Be loud on purpose. Get those eyes to flare and bulge, wet lips shushing you, but otherwise doing nothing else to stop you from feeling good. Because ultimately, that’s all Joe wanted; for him to be the one to make you feel good.

When Joe came, he made a sticky mess of the side of the bath.

When you came, you made a sticky mess of Joe’s fingers.

You kissed for a while after then, stood up out of the direct surge of water, and you loved this. Loved kissing Joe as your brain slowly found its way back to reality. It was all soft touches and slow movements and a terrible waste of water, but you fucking loved it.

When you thought Joe reached behind to finally turn the shower off, you found he instead reached for a bottle of shampoo.

“Turn around.”

Joe made sure you felt it.

Felt how fucking loved you were.

Massaged your scalp with love in his finger tips.

Rinsed your hair out with love in his palm.

Towel dried you after with love in his arms.

You had never felt this taken care of before, and when Joe reached for your hairbrush, he was surprised to turn back and find two wet shimmering eyes staring back at him in the large still slightly fogged-up mirror.

“Hey,” he curled an arm around your front and you let a wet chuckle escape you. “You okay? What’s going on with you right now?”

You shrugged and felt silly as you looked at each other via the mirror. Joe pressed a kiss against your ear, and you managed to squeak out, “I don’t know, just love you, I guess.”

That made Joe push his forehead to the side of your skull as he bit his lips into his mouth.

“Oh no,” he softly said, wincing slightly before you could see him smile. The effect of those words hadn’t just gone and changed within the last hour, so it seemed.

“I love y–” you were cut off by a louder groan as Joe bent down, hinging at his hips, pushing his head into your ribs and you couldn’t help but laugh as you let your arm scratch up and down his back.

“Maybe,” Joe breathed, eyes squeezed shut for a second in a bid to recompose himself. “Maybe don’t use those words for right now.”

“Got it.” you nodded. “No talking.”

That made Joe turn his head enough to see you smile in the mirror. Joe hadn’t just spent all morning to make you talk only for you to

“All right, no. That’s not what I said, I–” Joe moved to stand up straight again, and you saw your chance to make him double over again.

“I love you.”

“You– hnngg,” Joe had to turn and lean both elbows on the sink, head dropped down, having real trouble finding his breath.

“Tell you what,” you started, smile unable to be swiped from your face, and you grabbed Joe by his shoulders. “I’ll go make breakfast. Throw that pizza into the oven. We’ll have it on the sofa and then you can brush my hair after, all right?” you pressed a small kiss to his shoulder blade and wanted to say it again, just for fun, but decided you’d probably tortured him enough.

You tapped a shoulder to which Joe hummed and then went to leave the bathroom, turning around and unlocking the door.

“Hey,” Joe stopped you just before you walked out, and you looked over a shoulder to make eye contact with him in the mirror once again.

“Love you.” Joe’s constricted voice squeezed out, just because he couldn’t have you tell him three times and not say it back.

You smiled and used a hand to pretend to lock your lips up, making a breathy laugh escape Joe before he let his forehead drop into the crook of his elbow.

Loved you.

Joe loved you and he loved that you loved him. He just needed a minute.

You loved him.

That needed more than a second to acclimate to.

Your love.

He would so happily drown in it, you had no idea.

Perhaps, he should take the lead for just a little while. Make sure he was actually going to survive this.

His lead.

His time, maybe.

His pace, definitely.

But your love.

Always your love.

the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[anthurak]

Takeaways from the Volume 9 Epilogue:

--

One thing I really like about Oscar’s ‘If there was anything I wish I could borrow from you…’ monologue is that it laid out/confirmed something I’ve always felt was a major aspect of Oscar’s dynamic with Ruby that I nonetheless feel a lot of the fandom has missed: That Oscar very much sees Ruby as a mentor and an example to follow, and how their dynamic is specifically a foil to what we saw between Ruby and Ozpin. That Ruby acts as a mentor and example to Oscar in the same way Ozpin was to Ruby, and that Ruby is a far BETTER mentor and example to Oscar than Ozpin ever was to her. Which, as an aside, is a dynamic I can’t help but feel a lot of people have been misinterpreting as ‘ship-teasing’ and is one of the main reasons I’ve simply never been able to see Oscar as any kind of viable love-interest to Ruby. Frankly the dynamic of ‘Ruby is the mentor and example to Oscar that Ozpin couldn’t be for her’ is simply so much more INTERESTING than any kind of romance could ever hope to be.

--

Even in animatic form, Winter basically going overdrive on the maiden powers was a sight to behold. And her own monologue had all the self-deprecation we were expecting. Our girl is clearly holding on by a thread and it’s going to be REAL interesting seeing how she reacts and adjusts to her sister not actually being dead. As in, I can imagine a situation where Winter tries to throw herself into a heroic sacrifice with the belief that Weiss would make a better Maiden than her.

Also, Winter’s monologue giving major focus to how Penny is super-super-dead-dead-and-definitely-not-coming-back-for-really-realsies, as she is talking to the sister who she ALSO believes is DEFINITELY also dead? Specifically with the words that Penny is gone, when Penny’s last words to her were that she’d be ‘part of you’?

Yeah, there is no way in hell we’ve seen the last of Penny XD

--

The CROWN. Like it was only a few shots, but as someone who read the CFVY Books (which you totally should if you haven’t, they’re great), holy shit I was NOT expecting them to pop up here.

I mean, in hindsight it makes perfect sense that they’d be involved in Volume 10. They’re basically Vacuo’s equivalent to Vale’s criminal element and the White Fang splinter faction as Salem’s co-opted insurgency group, with Jax and Gillian joining Roman, Adam and Jacques as the latest of Salem’s unwitting patsies. It’s definitely going to be real interesting seeing the crew deal with them. Like it’s really fun to imagine Team RWBY in particular being kind of exasperated at seeing Jax’s probably doing a whole ‘With Salem’s help I shall be King!’ shtick after everything they’ve seen with Roman, Adam and Jacques.

Oh and if you don’t know, Jax has a mind-control semblance, so him trying to use that on Yang could actually lead to a sneaky callback to the Justice League crossover, ie; Yang doing a ‘Yeah, I’m not doing THAT shit again.’ XD

--

Qrow’s whole vibe through this is fascinating. Like his section may have been the one we already saw, but after seeing the abject depression and growing despair of all the other characters, Qrow actually being OPTIMISTIC hit so much harder.

--

Raven showing up at the end is… interesting.

I’ll admit that ever since we saw that specific clip a few months back, I’ve been rather conflicts about Raven showing up to deliver RWBY+J to Vacuo, particularly after Ruby’s tree vision. Like for one it felt a bit random and unnecessary. The tree already deposited the Ever After team outside of Vacuo so they didn’t exactly need help getting there. Not to mention that it kind of clotheslines the story-thread set up by Ruby’s vision; that she now has a reason to track Raven down to get the ANSWERS to what happened to Summer. Finally, it’s just kind of… random? Like where did Raven even come from to get the team?

But now having seen the clip with its intended context, I’m definitely more on board with it. Particularly hearing from Kerry and Eddy that the original ending for the penultimate episode had RWBY+J going through the portal to arrive at their memorial stone, and met by a ‘Mysterious Figure’, ie; Raven. Here it feels like were getting more set up to get answers later as to what Raven was doing at the memorial.

And really, now that I’ve thought about it more, this method kind of puts the thread of Ruby going to Raven for answers even MORE into focus. Like the story reintroduces Raven in the present right after Ruby got a vision basically saying ‘hey, Raven is important’. And now going into Volume 10, we’re pretty much perfectly positioned for Ruby to pull Raven aside for those all-important ‘Why were you fucking my mom? What happened to my mom?’ questions.

--

Finally… yeah that ending hit me a LOT harder than I was expecting. Like that ending was HOPE in its purest form and it was honestly beautiful to see. Particularly right now with the future of the show seeming so uncertain. I’ve personally been optimistic about RWBY’s future (in a manner not unlike Qrow’s vibes I suppose lol), but damn the hopefulness of that ending hit especially hard, and was something I’ll admit I needed. And I imagine the rest of us could use as well.

We'll be getting Volume 10. And 11, and 12, and however many more it takes to finish this story. At this point, I have no doubt of that.

[shiftingparadise]

I don’t know if your busy rn but there is a shortage in FEITAN x readers books and ya girl is dying. I know your inbox is like huge probably but anyways.. IF YOU DO TYSM AND IF YOU DONT TYSM FOR READING ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😻😻😻🥲🥲🫶🫶🫶🫶

Sorry it took so long. I hope you like this :) In this story, Feitan is similar to my others works. So he isn’t particularly very kind in the beginning. I’m working on your requests now, so if you have one don’t be afraid to send me a message or to ask one! Keep in mind that I have a couple left to do, so I’m only asking for some patience :3.

If you enjoy my stories it would be really great if you could buy me a coffee with the link in my bio 😇. HOWEVER DON’T FEEL OBLIGED TO DO SO. I’m only saying this because someone did a week ago and it felt really nice 🥹. I really enjoy writing for you guys either way 🤍✨

PS: I wanted to write another part of this, let me know if I should :)

Warnings: smut and angst.

Word count: 3455

“Be careful, don’t let your heart fool you”, my father took another sip from his coffee, “You’ve got to be sure he isn’t after our money”. “How can you say something like that?”. “I only want what’s best for you. You know that”. “I know him. He would never do anything to hurt me”, you slowly stood up. For some reason, your father’s office never seemed so small before. “Fine”, my father sighed, “Invite him over for dinner”.

You closed your eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks as you remembered the conversation with your father. You didn’t know. You really didn’t. How could you know that he was a Spider? That he was only playing a part? Right, in hindsight everything did seem a little fishy. The way he was suddenly there when you needed a shoulder to cry on. Or the way his name didn’t seem to truly ‘fit’ him. Jacob. He didn’t look like a Jacob at all. How could you be this dumb? Life isn’t like the fairytales and you were an idiot to think it could be.

“Where is she?”.

You couldn’t help but shiver. That voice used to be so familiar. So warm and soft.

“Boss told us to keep her in here”, the blonde that stood in front of the door answered. “It’s nice in there, Fei. She has a nice bed and lots of books”, a misguidingly soft voice answered.

The girl seemed so sweet, with her big glasses and her soft eyes. You couldn’t understand how she could be part of a gang like this.

“I don’t care”, Feitan coldly replied before walking past his comrades.

Your stomach started to turn. You couldn’t look at him. You wanted to keep your memories clean from any stains; to remember him the way you knew him. Kind and soft-hearted.

“Look at me”. “No”, you softly answered as you kept your gaze locked on the ground. “I said look at me”, his hands roughly grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t want to”, you almost whispered as you tried not to cry. “Look at me”.

You flinched as you felt the tip of his knife against your cheek. The same place he used to kiss you before wishing you goodnight.

You looked up at him with glossy eyes, not daring to say anything. “Are you scared?”, his cold eyes pierced through your skull. “Yes”, you softly agreed while studying his face. He was nothing like the man you used to know.

His facial features were so cold and distant. As if he was frozen in ice for hundreds of years. You couldn’t see half of his face, as it was covered with the coat he was wearing. It was decorated with a skull, making him even more morbid.

“Good”, he roughly pulled away as he lowered his knife to your throat. “Why are you doing this?”, your chin high. “Why?”, he repeated the question while once again lowering his knife. Letting the cold metal rest just beneath your collarbone. Your breathing got heavier as fear’s grip tightened around your body.

You didn’t know he wasn’t the head of this organization, that this wasn’t his plan. To you, he was the man with all the answers. The one who planned this whole scheme.

“If you want money-“, you were cut short by the back of his hand. “Only speak when I tell you to”.

He wasn’t that tall, but the way he hit you made him seem like the devil. Even though you couldn’t see, you knew there was this cruel grin on his face. You could tell by the way his eyes narrowed.

“Too hard”, his thumb grazed over your cheek. “Or you’re just too fragile”, he lowered his collar to lick up the drop of blood on his thumb. “Don’t cry”, he kneeled before you, “We’re going to have a lot more fun than this”. “Fei?”, the sweet-looking girl suddenly stood next to him. “What, Shizuku?”, Feitan sighed before standing up again. “Boss said not to hurt her, remember?”, her finger resting on her lip. “Tsk”, he clicked his tongue before leaving. “Don’t worry”, the girl cheerfully smiled, “We only need some kind of code. I’m sure your father will give it to us soon”. “Code?”, your eyes widened, “H-he won’t give it!”, you hastily got up from the bed you were sitting on. “Huh? He won’t?”, the girl widened her eyes.

You knew your father. He would never risk the nation’s, no the world’s, safety. Not even for his own daughter.

“You’re after the code for the nuclear weapons, right?”. “I guess… I don’t remember to be honest”, she looked down at the ground. “Listen, my father will never give that code. J-just ask our president-“. “But only your father knows that code, since he’s head of security”, the girl happily smiled, causing you to shiver. “Yo, Shizu”, the blonde angrily yelled from the door. “Huh?”, she looked behind her. “Shut up before you tell her our whole plan”. “Oh right”, she giggled before leaving.

——

“Get the girl, Phinks”, Feitan coldly sighed from behind your door.

You tucked your knees even tighter to your chest. You didn’t know what was going to happen. Were they going to kill you? Torture you?

“Get up”, Phinks roughly grabbed your arm and pulled you from the bed. “Let go!”, you tried to struggle, to break free from his grip. “You want me to get Feitan?”, he gritted his teeth. A threat he didn’t have to make twice.

You hastily stopped struggling, now following him into the main room of the abandoned building. The stones underneath your feet felt exceptionally cold, and the nightgown you were wearing didn’t really help to keep you warm.

“She’s freezing”, a voice too soft now greeted your ears, “Put this on her”.

You looked up to a tall figure. His hair was pitch black and there was this kind of cross tattooed on his forehead. He was an exceptionally good-looking man, but somehow his skin was just as cold-looking as Feitan. It didn’t match his kind voice at all.

“Here”, Phinks threw the coat at your feet. “I said put it on”, the dark-haired man smiled, “She can’t put it on when her hands are tied, can she? “Tsk”, the blonde picked up the coat before throwing it over your shoulders.

You scanned the room. There were about 10 people in the room. Some of them just looked evil, but others looked as innocent as a child. Especially a blonde-haired guy with big, green eyes.

“Your father won’t give us the code. Do you-”, the soft voice broke through your thoughts. “Who are you?“.

“Huh?”, you froze in fear as Feitan’s knife was once again pressed to the soft skin of your neck. You didn’t see him move. It felt as if he had just teleported to you.

“Tsk”, his eyes found yours, “How dare you interrupt boss?”. “Come now, Feitan”, the man now walked towards you, stopping before you. Without any warning, his fingers glided over your cheek, “You couldn’t contain yourself before, but you have to now”. Feitan immediately stepped away from you, discontent hidden in his eyes. “Feitan has a hard time holding himself back from… Fun”, the man smiled, “But it seems he did his best with you. I rarely get to see a hostage without any cuts or broken fingers”. “Lucky me”, you sarcastically answered while holding eye contact. “Yes, but keep in mind that luck doesn’t last forever”, he chuckled. “I’m Chrollo. Head of the Spiders”, he walked back to the stairs he was sitting on earlier. “My father isn’t going to give up the code. Not even for me”. “Yes, he made that very clear”, Chrollo replied. “Let me go and I promise my father will give you a generous reward”, your heart racing. “We have more than enough money. Besides, we can’t let you go. You know all of our names. Well… you’ll get to know them”. “What does that mean?”, you took a step back. “Feitan wanted you as a reward during this mission. So whether we’ll get the code or not, you’re not leaving”, Chrollo’s eyes glittered in the dark. “I-I don’t want to”, you started to panic. “Don’t care”, Feitan’s voice was only fuel to your fear. “From now on, you belong to Feitan”, Chrollo signaled Phinks to free your hands. “Keep the coat. I don’t think Feitan cares if you’re cold. You’ll be at least warm that way”, Chrollo spoke as if Feitan wasn’t there. “Right”, Feitan smirked. “At least get her some proper clothing, Fei”, Chrollo coldly looked at his Spider before dismissing everyone.

——

“Here”, Feitan threw a couple of bags on your bed the next day. “Proper clothes”, he leaned against the door.

After Chrollo dismissed everyone, Feitan took you with him to the house he was currently living in. It was a big and luxurious house. It wasn’t really decorated with furniture, only the necessary things like a couch, a dinner table, some paintings on the wall… And the room you were staying in was just as empty. There was a bed, a luxurious bathroom, and a big, walk-in closet that was empty of course.

“Proper clothes?”, your brows pulled together as you pulled a dress out of one of the bags. “This is a Prada dress?”. “I want you to look pretty”, Feitan looked up at the ceiling. “I’ll get you clothes every week. They won’t last long anyway”, his eyes now darted to yours.

Your stomach turned. You could only imagine what he was going to do to you.

“Wear this one for now”, Feitan slowly walked to your bed before handing you another bag. “For dinner. Hired some chef”. “I’m not hungry”, you clenched your jaw. “I don’t care”, he once again grabbed your jaw, “You’ll do as I say. Got it?”, his lips hovering next to your ear. “I’ve been kind until now, haven’t I? I behaved, so you’ll behave too”.

You didn’t answer, you just nodded in response.

“Good. Now put it on”, he leaned back. “N-now?”, you looked up at him with fear in your eyes. “Yes, want to see your body one last time before I have fun with it”. “What do you mean?”, you tried to keep your voice steady. “Put it on”, his cold gaze let you know his patience was running thin.

With shaking hands, you pulled out the nightgown you were wearing from when Feitan kidnapped you. You weren’t wearing anything underneath it, but that didn’t faze you. Feitan had seen your body many times by now. He used to place kisses all over it, making you feel like no one ever had before.

“This one?”, you covered your breasts with your arm. “Yes”, he got closer. You pulled out a beautiful, black dress from the back.

It wasn’t especially short, but it wasn’t long either. The fabric ended just above your knees. It was a tight dress until your belly, where it opened up like a flower. It was a beautiful dress, no doubt about it.

“I’ll close it”, Feitan guided you to a mirror before his hands glided along your waist.

His touch didn’t seem rough at all. It felt just as before.

“You like it?”, he took a step back when he zipped up the dress for you. “Hm”, you nodded in agreement. “Dinner’s at 7”, he cleared his throat before leaving you again.

——

You couldn’t eat. There was this lump in your throat that made it feel like you’d throw up if any kind of food entered your mouth.

“I thought sushi was your favorite”, Feitan was sitting on the other end of the table. “It is”, you hastily picked up some food, fearing what might happen if you didn’t eat. “It’s really good”, your eyes widened.

You didn’t realize how much your body needed some kind of fuel. You didn’t eat for at least 2 days now, and you only realized now how hungry you truly were.

“One of the best sushi chefs”, Feitan looked at the kitchen behind him where the chef was preparing more food. He seemed in distress, probably because Feitan made sure he wouldn’t tell a soul you were with him.

After dinner, Feitan guided you back to your room.

“Can I go to sleep?”, you softly asked as you sat down on your bed. “Sleep?”, he tilted his head, “No, it’s time for me to have some fun”. “Fun?”, your breathing started to fasten. “Fun”, his eyes lit up before roughly grabbing your arm and pulling you to another room.

There was nothing in the room except for a chair and a bed. Without any warning, he threw you on the bed and tied your wrists to it.

“What are you going to do?”, your eyes already glossy. “Whatever I want”, a knife in his hand as he slowly crawled on top of you. “I’ve wanted to take you like this since the first time we met”, his nose taking in the scent of your hair. “You know how hard it is to hold back when you’re this pretty? It was almost hard for me to finish at times because you were so boring… Always begging me to kiss you, to take you slow, … I hated it”.

You didn’t answer. There was nothing for you to say. Even when he showed some kindness earlier, you should’ve prepared yourself for this.

He swiftly cut the straps of your dress with his knife, causing it to slide down just beneath your breasts. “Stay still”, his knife firmly pressed against your throat as he noticed you were starting to kick your legs. “Please”, tears streamed down your cheek as he licked up a drop of your blood. “Don’t worry, you’re going to like this”, he looked into your eyes before cupping your cheek, “I’ll be rough, but I won’t be a monster. I know you’re body and when it’s ready for me. Even though you won’t admit it, I know you’ve been craving my touch. I saw it earlier when you were undressing in front of me… Your legs were rubbing against each other when I zipped up your dress. You only do that when you want me”.

Yes. No. Maybe. You knew he was right. Earlier… You wanted him, but you tried to push those thoughts away as much as you could. He wasn’t the man you knew. He was a psychopath, how could you want someone like him?

“Now, stay still”, his nails dug into the soft flesh of your waist as he pulled up your dress with the other. “Feitan, please”, another tear was streaming down your cheek. “Say it. Tell me you want me to stop”, his knee pushed your legs open as his digits hovered over your most sensitive spot. “I’ll stop if you do”, a devilish smirk in his eyes.

But you didn’t want him to. You didn’t care if he was going to be rough, or if he was even going to hurt you. You wanted him.

“See?”, he chuckled at a lack of answer. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You’ve never been this wet for me”, he softly bit on your shoulder. You closed your eyes as you were still trying to fight yourself. “I asked you a question”, his hand wrapped around your throat as he bit your shoulder again. Only harder this time. “S-shit”, you cried out in pain. “I’m going to cover you in bitemarks for ignoring my question”, he loosened his grip around your neck while his fingers slowly entered you. “Fuck”, you arched your back as he left bite marks on your body.

You couldn’t deny it any longer. He made you feel good, better than he ever did.

“Tsk”, Feitan frowned when you came undone around his fingers, “Wasn’t expecting you to enjoy this”. “I-I’m not”, you avoided his gaze as your cheeks turned red. “Liar”, he softly hummed while undressing himself.

Your eyes were glued to his body. Now it was clear why he never took off his shirt.

“Who did that to you?”, you quietly whispered as you noticed his scars. For a second, his eyes widened while his lips were slightly parted.

There was this short-lived moment in his mind where he wanted to let you in and where he wanted you to care for him. An unwilling memory of your arms wrapped around him flashed before his eyes.

“Shut up”, his eyes went dark again, “Don’t talk”.

Afraid of being enchanted by your warm voice again, he thought it better not to hear your voice at all.

He didn’t ask if you were ready for him. It was unnecessary. By now, your legs are already wrapped willingly around his waist. “Feitan”, your eyes closed as his forehead was pressed against yours. “Don’t”, Feitan grunted as he got even rougher, “I don’t want you to enjoy this”.

That was a lie. He wanted you to, more than anything. It wasn’t his intention for you to enjoy this, and he surely didn’t want to leave you so perfectly. In his mind, he wanted to hurt you, to make you bleed, just as he did with all those before you. That’s what he enjoyed. Torture. Not this. This wasn’t like him, and it made him mad but there was nothing he could do. He didn’t want to hurt you, more so, it would even make him feel bad about himself.

“Sorry”, your lips pressed against each other as a whisper left your chest. “Fuck”, he grunted in agitation.

He didn’t know what to do, but this didn’t feel right.

“Tell me”, he clenched his jaw at the realization of how soft he had gotten for you. “W-what?”, you looked to the side. “Tell me you want me, please”, his eyes were glued to a bitemark he left.

He couldn’t lie. The bruises looked so good on your body, but only because you enjoyed it. If he did something like that while you were crying, begging him to stop…

“I want you, Feitan”, your soft voice melted something inside him as if a fire was lit inside his heart. “Even now? Even when you see who I truly am?”.

“Even now”.

Without thinking twice, he cut the rope that was holding you down.

“Touch me. Like you used to”, he softly grabbed your wrist before placing your hand on the back of his head.

You obeyed as you softly tugged at his dark hair.

“I don’t want to take you slowly like I used to, Y/N”. “You don’t have to”, your legs tightened around his waist.

That was all he needed to hear. Without any hesitation, his lips crashed against yours.

“You feel so good”, your breathing got heavier as you could feel he was getting close. “Yeah?”, his voice low, “Want me to breed you?”. You hastily nodded as you could feel yourself getting closer to your own climax. “Really?”, he chuckled, “You never let me come inside you before. Always crying about being scared to get pregnant”. “P-please Feitan”, you arched your back. “Don’t worry. I’m going to fill you up this time, whether you want me to or not”.

Your legs now started to shake as you came undone around him.

“That’s it. Good girl”, Feitan grabbed your jaw, “Now look at me and beg”. “P-please Fei, want you to come inside me”. “Want me to put a baby in you? Making you mine forever?”. “P-please”.

Feitan couldn’t contain himself any longer. With heavy breaths and low grunts, he let his head rest against your shoulder.

“Never felt so good”, he slowly pulled out, before placing a soft kiss on the bitemark he left on your shoulder. “Hm”, you happily smiled.

He didn’t know why he decided to act cold again. Honestly, he hated himself for it, but there was something inside him. A feeling he never felt before. Was it fear? Was he scared that you were going to leave him? No. You couldn’t leave him. He kidnapped you and you had nowhere to go. It was something else. He knew you weren’t going to leave, but he was scared you were going to hate him for what he did. Or rather, for who he was. You didn’t know the real him.

“Don’t think this will happen again”, he coldly got up, “You won’t enjoy this next time”.

You lowered your eyes as you watched him put on his clothes.

“Can I-“.

“Go to your room and shower. I don’t care what you do for the rest of the night”, he clenched his jaw before leaving you alone.

[kazumiwrites-fanfiction]

Not-So-Secret Drawings

REQUEST: Hi there, so I've been daydreaming about this for awhile but I absolutely suck at writing so, could i request hcs were the reader is really good at drawing and has been secretly drawing random people on campus whenever they get the chance, but one day reader forgets there sketch pad somewhere and a character (of your choosing) finds it and decides to snoop and finds drawingsof them and people on campus. Just as they finish looking through reader comes (after realizing they forgot it). I hope this makes sense to you, have a nice day/night.

SUMMARY: Your carefully hidden secret is out now. WORD COUNT: 1k

WARNINGS: Riddle, Azul, Floyd, and Vil snooping looking through your drawings, reader is a really good artist, Riddle threatens you (out of love I swear), Azul is uncomfortable by your drawings (not in a bad way- I think), mentions of getting lectured by Azul, Floyd is a ball of chaos, Vil gets no warnings because he's perfect/j A/N: When I tell you that as soon as I saw this I immediately rushed to write two parts before having to stop because I needed to do my summer homework - and then procrastinated the last part (Vil)- Also I know you implied one character but since I'm indecisive I did multiple haha (I'm sorry (but also kind of not because this was fun)) I'm sure you don't suck at writing!! You just get sick of your own writing because it all seems predictable (speaking from experience, I read my work and I'm like "ew?? I need better words" haha) Vil's part is definitely weird because I was like "Fashion Designer!Reader" (probably because some of my friends take fashion/design classes) and I don't know how accurate this is I suck at drawing so I know nothing please don't come at me- Also on a side note, I have a lot of requests right now and since I have a lot of schoolwork I have to do right now, my writing will probably be scattered. Hope you guys understand! (Hope you have a nice day/afternoon/night/etc too!!)

© kazumiwrites - All rights reserved; please do not steal, edit, copy, repost (etc) my work without my express permission.

You had always been careful with your drawings. You never wanted another person to look at them. After all, you had been drawing other people - and who knew what they would think?

Sure, they were pretty accurate, but still. It wasn't like the people at Night Raven College knew that you were drawing them. And you didn't want your drawings to get destroyed just because someone in a foul mood found them. Just your luck though, as you had left your sketchbook somewhere. Where did you even misplace it…

Riddle Rosehearts

He had always seen you with your sketchbook, but had assumed it was just for studying.

Likewise, when it popped up during class, he assumed that you were diligently taking notes.

It was almost sad seeing how far from the truth he was in hindsight.

Since he found your sketchbook on the floor (perhaps having fallen from your bag - it was always full, after all), he decided to take it to you. On the way over to Ramshackle Dorm, he flipped through the sketchbook before he paused.

These weren't notes. They were drawings.

And very good ones, at that.

They were so detailed, he thought for an instant that you had magicked them on here somehow (before remembering that you didn't have any magic).

So was this what you could do with some time and diligence?

His mother had never let him draw much so his drawings were mediocore at best (at worst, one would think that a small child had drawn them).

He found himself captivated by the artwork, flipping through the pages, seeing the drawings of various people from the school. Even some of himself…? With more details... It was odd, the small flutter in his chest. Happiness?

He jolted as he heard your voice, asking if that sketchbook in his hands was yours, abruptly slamming the sketchbook shut as if he had been looking at something completely inappropriate. Which, in a way, he might have been?

"Sorry for looking at these without your permission." He got out after a moment, handing it back to you. "You're a really good artist." He paused. "But you shouldn't be drawing in class. If I catch you with this sketchbook out during Trein-sensei's lectures, I'll have your head!"

Azul Ashengrotto

Of course Azul had noticed your drawings. He needed to in order to make sure he knew as much as possible about others so he could scam help them whenever they needed it.

Still, he found it intriguing, so he couldn't help but skim through your drawings. And my, were they amazing.

Until he got to the section where you had drawn him.

Sure, there were drawings of him in regular uniform, some of him in his P.E. uniform (he thought that they weren't really flattering on him, but you made it look good).

But then there were the sections where you had drawn him in mer form.

Of course, you had no idea what his mer form actually looked like (without all the overblotting, which you never got the chance to see clearly anyway) so it was mostly guesswork and using your imagination.

There were ones with long, large tentacles swarming around him.

Some with tentacles that were slender.

Some of them popped out of weird angles, which he was puzzled about, but okay.

My tentacles can't move like that - or can they?

They definitely shouldn't be popping out of his ribs. Wherever did you get that particular idea? It made him uncomfortable just by looking at it.

He was so caught up in examining your drawings and he didn't notice you until you literally snatched the sketchbook from his hands, saying something about how they were private.

"Sorry, [Y/N]-san... But these drawings aren't too accurate, you know."

And that was how you got roped into a three-hour long discussion about the anatomy of octopuses as well as the anatomy of merfolk and how your drawings were terribly inaccurate. (You were just guessing, how were you supposed to know any of this?)

Floyd Leech

Floyd wouldn't even wait until the sketchbook was unattended.

He'd pop out of nowhere, eyes bright, asking what you were doing.

Never mind if it was in the middle of class or not.

You've both gotten scolded about this, he should know better.

Still, one day he caught you by surprise, and the book slipped from your hands.

You muttered a small curse before trying to grab it, but whoops, too late. Floyd had already gotten it and was flipping through the pages.

"Aww, Koebi-chan, you drew me?" His gaze met yours, a wide grin on his face (showing his extremely sharp teeth). "You should've just asked, I would've modeled and stuff for you."

You shook your head slightly. You had wanted to keep this a secret if possible... At least Floyd seemed to be in a fairly good mood. You told him that you wanted to draw people in their natural state, without them posing for the "camera," so to speak.

He looked disappointed, but then immediately asked if you could come to a basketball practice or match or something. Perhaps you'd find it more interesting to draw him there. Or maybe in the ocean?

Vil Schoenheit

He was no stranger to people drawing him. He was famous after all.

He did sometimes get… odd pieces of artwork, but that was to be expected.

Still, he didn't expect to find a sketchbook with him in it, abandoned at an empty seat. Only drawings of him.

It had so happened that you were trying to figure out a good design for clothing. You always wanted to have a face to your designs, and he was the perfect subject.

Maybe your drawings didn't do him justice, but it was interesting to see how you could tweak your designs to fit him better.

Still, Vil was plenty impressed.

These designs... He could definitely see himself wearing them.

Maybe he could show them to one of the people he knew... They could help make something like that. With your permission, of course.

He closed the book as he heard you come up.

"These designs really are fascinating. Would you mind showing me more details? I'm certain that we can turn these drawings into reality if you'd like it."

As always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! ♡ Send your thoughts grr

Feel free to send requests! Check out this post for info ^^

[capseycartwright]

tagged by @livingincolorsagain to do a 2024 fic roundup and i am v late but hope u forgive my tardiness i have been enjoying a new year rot of the highest order. anyway apparently i wrote a whole heap of fic this year and didn't realise it until i made this post.

april

every little thing the sun shows, well it’s worth it 

Buck should – he should be freaking out, right? He’d lived thirty-two years of his life without coming close to kissing another man, and it should be making him freak out that tonight, he did – but Buck felt flooded with the oddest sense of calm he’d ever experienced in his life.

He’d kissed a man.

or - after his kiss with Tommy, Buck goes to Hen.

stay close, little brother

hen and maddie share a quiet moment of pride about their little brother at the buckley-han wedding.

may

all roads lead to eddie diaz

Eddie inclined his head slightly. “He is,” he hummed in response. “But it sounds more like you’re wanting to pick a fight here than discuss our mutual appreciation for how great a person Buck is.

Tommy, at least, looked slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before,” he admitted. “The way you feel about him.

or - eddie and tommy have a revelatory conversation about the buck of it all.

july

a sky full of stars

Christopher Diaz had always loved fireworks - the pop, and bang, and the way they would light up the sky with bright colours. His dad didn’t like fireworks though. His dad was afraid of them.

or, even in Texas, Christopher worries about his father spending the Fourth of July alone. So he texts Buck.

can't ignore the crazy visions of me in la

Margarita-drunk Buck ruminates on how beautiful Eddie Diaz is while his best friend is dancing to Chappell Roan. That's what LA pride is for, right?

- or, alternatively: Eddie spends his first pride as an out queer man in a gay club, and Buck is in love with him about it.

october

oh what a terrible honor it's been (to learn that my blessings are things you call sins)

Hey God, it's me, Eddie. I hope you don’t mind that I’m sitting in your house thinking gay thoughts.

Eddie couldn’t help but giggle to himself as he thought the words. If he couldn’t be a bit silly while having a sexuality crisis in a Catholic church – when could he? 

Christopher leaves for Texas, Eddie goes back to therapy, unearths an emotional lockbox he had been fourteen years old when he buried, and has a lot of thoughts about how Buck is sunshine incarnate. In hindsight, it probably should have been obvious he wasn't straight.

knowing damn well i haven't been touched by you

Buck’s been having a really weird year. Buck died, and he realised he was bisexual, and he got a boyfriend, and Christopher left and went to Texas after he walked in on Eddie kissing his dead mother’s doppelganger, Eddie had grown a depression mustache, and Gerrard was back at the helm of the 118 and Buck felt like he was starring in a Netflix Original about how a perfectly normal, functional, member of society was driven to commit murder.

- or, Buck's got a boyfriend, Eddie comes out and starts dating men, and Buck loses his entire mind, actually.

november

miss me, but let me go

“I have - I’ve carried this grief, for you, for so long, and I know I can’t let it all go, because a part of me is always going to grieve for you,” Eddie paused. “But I can’t feel like this forever, Shannon. I don’t think you’d want me to, either. So - I need to let some of it go. Okay? I need to - I need to be myself now. For me, and for Christopher. I want to be me.”

On November 1, Eddie builds an altar for Shannon and finds a way to let her go.

you're my sun, my moon, my guiding star

“Fine, let’s have it your way then,” Eddie slammed his phone down on the kitchen table. “You set me up a dating profile then – Hinge, Grindr, whatever you fucking want, Buck. Set me up a dating profile, and you pick which random man I need to sleep with to make it so you feel okay about wanting me.” 

in which evan buckley gets dumped, gets drunk with his best friend, realises he's in love with said best friend, and lets his abandonment issues get the best of him. because your first is never your last, right? so buck can't be eddie's first: he needs to be his last.

december

i'll be home for christmas (if only in my dreams)

It was a silly thing, Buck had started, right when Eddie first got to El Paso – we’re looking at the same sky, he’d quipped, on one of their nightly Facetime calls.

Even when they were far apart from each other, they were still able to look up at the same stars, and if they just remembered that, maybe the distance between El Paso, and Los Angeles, wouldn’t feel so cavernous. That’s what Buck had promised him.

simply having a wonderful christmastime (maybe)

Eddie's family were about to arrive for the first Christmas they were hosting in LA as as couple, and, well, Buck felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack so great it would be in the Guinness Book of World Records for the destruction it was liable to cause.

or - the buckley-diazes are hosting christmas for the first time, and buck is freaking out, a little. he has a good reason, he swears.

see the lights, hang the stockings

Eddie finds out that Buck has never ever had a Christmas stocking of his own. He's very determined to change that and share a few Diaz family traditions.

everyone has probably done this already so apologies but tagging @doeeyeseddie @thatbuddie @clusterbuck @hattalove @mellaithwen @sibylsleaves @piningbuddies @eddiebabygirldiaz @hotshotsxyz

[vacayisland]

@!; Together. (That's all we need) Trollex / reader . . . art/writing trade with @greaser-wolf

"Tag list"! @storydays @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @starzwithapen @ykvlanq @apieceofcathair3 @kitthefanfickat @cyb3r-st4r @esterphobic @nevaeh-jasso

ꨄ︎. You honestly wonder how you got here sometimes. It was an odd situation, on the way on how all the stars aligned to create a perfect path for you and Trollex. For as long as you could remember you were friends with him, and later Synth. For as long as you two remember it was a 'us against the world' type of friendship, where you all did the stupidest things together and managed to get away with it (most of the time). You remembered those days all too well, where you three would play at the edge of the reef and race to see who could get to the center first. Where you guys would ponder on ways to get that ever so special dessert of the Techno tribe, not even being able to name it yet. Where life was fun and exciting, a lot less working and a lot less everything in your face.

ꨄ︎. And sure, life is still like that, but everything seemed to turn upon it's head a few years ago; well, five years ago to be exact, when Trollex first told you that he loved you. Then two years later when you guys got married. You never had expected to become a ruler of the Techno Trolls, as you always knew the 'crown' would go to Trollex (by blood).

ꨄ︎. And adjusting to a new life was always hard, especially when it meant into the life of royalty, yet you both managed to stick through it together. Trollex showed you to ropes, explained some costumes, and walked you through everything. He still does, even after all these years,, and that's what makes you hesitant. You both have finally settled down, the reef is in such a serine state of calm (even after sending ambassadors over to the Pop Troll Village) that you didn't want to disturb the waters. No, no it was too soon for that to happen, way too soon!

ꨄ︎. But then again, Trollex deserved to know what was happening! You've both faced everything and anything together so keeping him out of the dark would be a first and probably will educe more anxiety than what you were feeling right now!

ꨄ︎. But waiting a little bit couldn't hurt, right? The thought echoed in your mind as you stared at yourself through a mirror, your eyebrows frowning as you noticed one of the two eggs peaking out from your hair. You would reach up and attempted to cover the egg again, a million thoughts racing through your mind. This would be the hardest part, to tell Trollex about his eggs. How do you even tell your husband about such a thing? Sure, you've been dreaming about this since a year into your relationship with him, yet the moment has come at one of weirdest times that it made you feel a little sick. Surely, Trollex would want kids- his kids! You've seen the way he's acted around the younger Techno Trolls, always so caring and goofy, it's what made you want to have kids in the first place. But-

ꨄ︎. But, but, but, but, BUT! Ugh that stupid word is ringing in your head too much lately, like it always does. It's what Synth liked to call my irrational word, as irrational thoughts always steamed from the word 'but'.

ꨄ︎. Irrational thoughts that were proven irrational time and time again... So I shouldn't listen to those thoughts! At least, that's what Synth would say and Synth is not here right now so I have to just think Synth to be able to have some sort of support. Just thing W.W.S.D.: What Would Synth Do? Which, in hindsight is really bad for most situations because the answer would be rave-

ꨄ︎. A RAVE!

ꨄ︎. Trollex will be DJing at a rave later today and had asked you to be his plus one, which wasn't surprising seeing as you are his wife (but a little goofy upon thinking how there's really no Techno Troll not invited to a rave; But you got a cute date with you husband so he could ask you, so that's a win). But, besides that, maybe you could tell Trollex during the rave? It would be the most low pressure situation, if you forget there are countless of eyes on you both up by the turn tables, but Trollex will be in a good mood. So telling him shouldn't be that stressful?

ꨄ︎. But you could ruin the rave by telling him there; Such as what if he doesn't want the kid and then completely stops in his DJing to stare at you in shock? Then what if he recoils back and slams into the turn tables, causing records to scratch and...

ꨄ︎. Maybe you should go see a therapist... but not now. Right now you had to figure out how to tell your Husband about the eggs that are literally growing in your hair!

ꨄ︎. Ha, no pressure!.. right?

ꨄ︎. Maybe you could have tried harder to tell Trollex about his children during the rave, or maybe you could have done better in masking your nerves during the whole party. You hadn't noticed how badly this was all getting to you despite the countless of Trolls who came up to you, asking if you were alright. One of those Trolls being your husband! He seemed extra worried about your sour attituded during the rave, noticing how you sat off to the side with a scrunched face. He knew that face, he knew it all too well; It was your pensive face, the face you only scrunch when you're in deep contemplation about something. And it worried him to see that you weren't partying like you usually were, as raves usually got you out of your pensive moods. It's what he usually did to help you shake out all the bad feelings, even if you two were at home and all you did was play music and dance around together. So if music wasn't helping than something was wrong. Really, really wrong.

ꨄ︎. And as your husband, Trollex was determined to figure out what it was to be able to help you! With having to pry it out of you.

ꨄ︎. "Alright alright!" Trollex's voice over took the blaring music as he turned it down, purposefully so he could be heard. The Techno Trolls on the floor would turn and face him, if they weren't already, confused on what was happening. The rave had just started! No way it was already over. But Trollex continued, "Don't worry, I'm just passin' off the booth to a good friend of mine and you guys can get right back to partying. I just wanted to introduce DJ Cupcake!" Trollex exclaimed, gesturing to one of his closest friends (out side of Synth and You) as they sawm up to the turn tables. He would nod, giving them a fist bump, before turning back to the Trolls. It wasn't common for Trollex to part from a rave, though it wasn't exactly uncommon either. So while there was questioning looks, no one bothered to ask Trollex about his sudden departure. They just hoped he would be alright. Funny, considering how he was hoping you were alright.

ꨄ︎. "Trollex, you didn't have to leave the rave because of me!" You would pull your wrists away from Trollex's hands as you two got home, causing him to whip around, startled. You hadn't realized the edge in your tone, nor how loud you had shouted at him so he would take a moment and stop! You didn't mean to, but you needed him to listen. "Starfish-" Trollex would start, hands drawing close to himself as he tried to formulate his words. "I was just worried, you seemed..." "You better not say moody, Trollex!" You snapped crossing your arms as you felt your body become rather on edge. Your brain was on edge. Trollex didn't know but during his rush to get you to your home, in privacy to talk, he had almost knocked out one of the eggs from his hair. Granted, you shouldn't be mad at him for that, seeing as he didn't know they even existed yet. But you couldn't help it! To think Trollex could be so reckless with young lives, it made you bitter despite your reasonable thoughts. "No, no! I wasn't going to say that at all... you just seemed pensive! Like in a seriously deep train of thought and we both know that's usually not good." Trollex backtracked, trying to save himself from your accusation. His face would scrunch a little, noticing how you shot daggers at him and how stiff your body was before you exhaled, allowing it to relax.

ꨄ︎. This only made Trollex alarmed, as he's never seen you like this before. Sure, he's seen you when you were pensive, in deep spiraling thought, but not when like this. This? This was something different.

ꨄ︎. But that didn't make you any less you and he wasn't going to run away from this problem because you were acting differently than what he was used to. Something was wrong, he had to be the husband you needed him to be right now; You needed a shoulder to lean on. And that's what he's going to give you!

ꨄ︎. Gently, as to not startle you or cause you to tense up again, Trollex would reach out and place his hands on your shoulders. He made sure you were comfortable with his touch first, then he slowly guided the two of you to sit on the floor. He didn't want to move to the couch or your shared bedroom, just encase. He needed to be gentle with you right now. "Hey, love, is... everything okay?" He would asked, being weary of his tone; He tried to keep it was soothing and gentle as possible, watching your body language for anything he could pick up on. Anything that would give him a hint as to what you're thinking. No matter how long it took, he would sit here with you until everything was okay again. You were his world, as he knew he was yours, and there was nothing he wouldn't do to make you feel better. As he expected, though, he didn't receive an answer straight away. And he was okay with that. He was glad you trusted him enough to lean your head against his shoulder and allow him to wrap his arms around your waist, silently comforting you through touch. That was something cheesy to be thankful for, especially after three years of marriage, but he was. It gave him some reassurance.

ꨄ︎. You two would sit on that floor, cuddled up in each other's arms, for what felt like (and what was) hours until you would tell Trollex what was bothering you. But Trollex didn't mind. His eyes would glance back at you upon hearing your small sigh, a relieving sound to his ears (as he knew you've come to terms with opening up with him). Trollex would softly rub your back, comfortingly drawing circles, as a silent encouragement. He watched as you chewed over how you were going to formulate your words for a few minutes before he heard your voice. "Trollex.. I have something to tell you." You would mumble out.

ꨄ︎. And he wasn't going to lie, that one sentence made his heart both flip and drop at the same time.

ꨄ︎. "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?" Though Trollex wouldn't tell you that, knowing you already had a lot on your plate. You would probably know later, anyways, when you two look back at this and laugh at it. "I kind of know I should have told you as soon as I found out," You would start, not helping with Trollex's nerves. He felt as you would squeeze your arms around his chest, and he would do the same in turn to your waist. "But I didn't want to ruin anything, with the reef suddenly being so calm after the Rock trolls attacked and Trollstopia starting and..." Your voice would trail off, to which Trollex would pick up, "Hey, hey.. you know it never matters what is happening out in the reef, yeah? Sure, Yeah, I'm their leader but that doesn't mean you're my second priority, Starfish. I'm here for you, okay?" You would nod your head against Trollex's shoulder, staying silent for a few more minutes. Was there any easy way to tell him? Should you just drop the bomb on him now? There wasn't getting around it anyways, so it would be best to be up front, right?

ꨄ︎. "Trollex.. we're having twins."

ꨄ︎. You would squeeze your eyes shut upon telling him, waiting for his reaction. It was the one thing that you were fearing, the one reason you were so scared to tell him about the twins, and now it was something you would have to come to face with. Though, after a minute of complete silence from Trollex, you couldn't help but fear for the worst. "Love?.." Your voice was shaky as you carefully leaned away from his shoulder to catch a look at his face; You needed to know what he was feeling, what was happening, was he freaking out like you had or was he disgusted or?!- You couldn't even see his face before Trollex shot his hands up to cup your cheeks, no longer holding your waist. The sudden movement caught off guard, even more so when Trollex face sudden came closer to yours than you remembered it being. Yet... he had the brightened grin on his face, and you swore his eyes were stars as he stared in to yours. "Tell me that again." He would whisper, the excitement pouring out of him from the truck load. You couldn't help but stifle a giggle, glad he was taking this news so well but also counting his request as slightly strange. Either way, you indulged him. "Trollex, honey, we're having twins..?"

ꨄ︎. You had seen Trollex overly excited before, hell even bouncing off the walls, but his over joyous attituded right now was something that bested all those times easily. You would watch as he was literally throwing fist bumps in the air, zipping around like a little guppy high on sugar while gushing all about how he wanted to be a dad. You were sure, if he could, Trollex would be shouting "I'm a father!" to the whole Techno Village despite not having seen his two eggs yet. "Honey, is this what you were worried for?" He would asked through his excitement, taking your hands to help you off the floor. You would giggle as he picked you up by the waist and began to twirl you around, his grin (which you adored so much) never leaving. "I'm sorry, I thought I made it so clear to you that I wanted a family! You don't understand how long I've waited to be able to have kids with you, and now you're telling me we have twins?? It's like a dream come true for a guy like me!" You couldn't help but laugh, your hands firmly on Trollex's shoulders so you wouldn't fall. All the worried you had gathered were quickly filtering out as Trollex pulled you close for a hug, unable to contain all the emotions that bounced out of him. "Honey, you haven't even met the eggs!" You would shout through your laughter, only knowing that Trollex would grow even more excited upon actually seeing his eggs.

ꨄ︎. And you were right. Despite being careful with them, making sure they wouldn't break and they were properly being heated, Trollex was even more esthetic about being a dad he could barely keep it to himself! You had to basically hold him hostage inside your home so he wouldn't shout to the world "I'M A DAD!", as you would like some privilege in having the two kids be a secret for at least a little. But, that then meant you had to deal with his excitement alone. A sacrifice you were willing to make. You would giggle and laugh every time Trollex hugged and cuddled you, nuzzling his head against your shoulder or neck or cheek, exclaiming how he was so lucky; Lucky not only to have kids, but that you were also their parent and you were his and he could not picture his life with anyone else!

ꨄ︎. It took a good few hours before his excitement would wear off, not fully, but to a manageable amount. By that time, you both were laying in your bed with the eggs in between you two. Trollex was just admiring them, like they were the most precious thing in his life, and you couldn't help but smile as you watched him. You weren't sure how you managed to get this lucky, but you were sure thanking everyone who managed to make it happen.

@!; BONUS LITTLE SNIPPETS (things that didn't make it into the full story as well as some 'after math')

ꨄ︎. One of the babies were named Starr, after 'Starfish', and the other was named Pier. Trollex literally adores these kids so much, if you don't stop him he (and his parents) will spoil them rotten while teaching them out to be good people?? You trusted Trollex's parents, you didn't even need to question their ways (seeing how great of a man Trollex ways), but you did have to put a restriction on how much they did spoil Starr and Pier. Mostly you had to restrict Trollex.

ꨄ︎. Trollex and you have a jar of baby names! You had forgotten you two had set up a jar to place slips with baby names in them so when you two did have kids, it would be easy to pick out names. Trollex brought out the jar not even two days after he met the eggs, claiming how they needed names! He couldn't keep calling them eggs and eggie. You two saved the names you didn't pick, took out the two you did, and saved the jar encase you had more kids.

ꨄ︎. Trollex couldn't go two weeks before he spilled the news! You were even surprised that you managed to tell his and your families, and Synth, before he gushed about being a dad while DJing at a rave. Funny, it was the one rave you didn't go to because you were going to spend time with your family! You weren't mad at him, you found it cute how excited he was about being a dad, but it was surely confusing when random Trolls began congratulating you. (He did tell you as soon as he found you and apologize for slipping up :( )

ꨄ︎. No one could buy your babies anything because Trollex was on it first! Man was working on the nursery no less than a week to two after he first bet the eggs, asking for your input and all. He would let you help, but nothing too straining because you were holding the babies in your hair. Literally built the crib and room from the ground up by himself, with you helping where you could. Though the next day his and your parents would come over, asking if there's anything they could help with to pitch in for the baby. As soon as the words nursery left their lips, Trollex just had to show them the room!! Their jaws were on the floor, literally. Didn't expect the nursey to be done so soon. Trollex was very proud of himself.

ꨄ︎. The type of dad to go all out for any holiday, even mothers/fathers day for you! And in turn you do it right back. Y'alls house is so festive and cozy and fun.

ꨄ︎. Synth is like an Uncle to the kids, despite not being blood related to you or Trollex. But not all family had to be blood related, and you had to explain this to the two when they realized that Synth is just a really good friend. Family is chosen, not forced.

ꨄ︎. Overall, he's such a fun and goofy dad!! Will do anything to protect you and the kids. You guys are always his number one priority!

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[the-golden-comet]

🌸✨OC Questionnaire Tag +bonus Character Voice✨🌺

Thank you for this tag @mysticstarlightduck here, a character voice tag here, more questions from @ominous-feychild here and @fantasy-things-and-such here✨

My questions:

How good is your sleep schedule?

Do you have any siblings? If so, how good is your relationship?

What was the toughest time you had to endure while growing up?

What was the worst day of your life?

What's your worst nightmare?

If a monster asked you your worst nightmare, what would you tell it and why?

"What's your relationship with your family like?"

"Do you have any hobbies? if so, what ones?"

"Do you dream often? what about?"

"What is the one thing you would not wish on your greatest adversary?

And answering the questions With this voice:

"(sighs, done with life) Alright, what did you do now?"

Guess who has the perfect OC to answer these? That’s right: Come on out, Tyr:

From In The Realm Of Giants

Sucks. Getting jostled around in a jar isn’t the most comfortable sleeping space. Go figure, right? (Glares up at Tav)

No. I’m an only child. Mom died when I was five, and Dad’s been overprotective of his only son. Heh….probably should’ve listened in hindsight…

Right after Mom died, we were grieving. Dad grieved a long, long time. He was so paranoid he’d lose me too, that he didn’t let me outside our cottage home for a year. I had to really fight hard to show him that I can be worthy of leadership, that I’m okay, and he doesn’t need to smother me. I passed all the trials and he still sees me as this defenseless child. I’m twenty-two now; I don’t need to have him breathing down my neck.

Losing my mother. How Dad sat me down, tears welled in his eyes, choking out that Mom wasn’t coming back. I felt lost…confused….angry. D-damn it….

(Glares up at the giant from inside the jar) I dunno, Tav. What IS my worst nightmare?

(still glaring, words dripping with venomous sarcasm) OH GEE, I DON’T KNOW, GUSTAV. What WOULD I tell you?

I love my dad and my village. Yeah, he can be a bit overbearing at times, but I can see why. I’m a rebellious little shit, and I caused a lot of trouble for him. And the village…I would die to protect my people. Oh Dad, I’m sorry….I hope everyone’s doing alright….

Besides not getting eaten by a giant? I did my trainings to get all my marks. I guess you can call those hobbies….? I passed my archery test for the Mark of the Snake, led a successful pack hunt for my Mark of the Wolf, and passed the fishing trial for my Mark of the Bear

Usually it’s nightmares about getting eaten alive….being abducted by this dumbass didn’t help that—H-HEY! Don’t jostle the jar!! Fucker, you did that on purpose!! I see you snickering!!

(Glaring up at Gustav so intensely the sun couldn’t burn him to the same degree)

G: …..Huh? What? I wasn’t paying attention. 🤷‍♂️

Whew! I’ll leave these same questions for anyone else who wants to answer, as little or as many as you want in any order! ✨

Tagging (no pressure): @finickyfelix , @illarian-rambling , @saturnine-saturneight , @rivenantiqnerd , @noxxytocin , @pixies-love-envy , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @theaistired , @aintgonnatakethis , @willtheweaver , @autism-purgatory , @gioiaalbanoart , @alinacapellabooks , @fortunatetragedy , @theverumproject , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @wyked-ao3 , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @paeliae-occasionally , @sunglasses-in-the-bentley , @jev-urisk , @thatuselesshuman , @lychhiker-writes +open tag! ✨

[quinnynation]

at the restaurant ᯓᡣ𐭩 jake webber one-shot

pairing : ex!jake webber x reader

summary : you've been working at the same diner in kanas since you and jake broke up,; he returns with an apology after all these years

warning/extra tid-bits : mentions of previous break up, language, i think that's all

word count : 1,864

divider credit : pics from pinterest ,, lines from @mikeykuns

The diner that you had met Jake at was just down the street from the small Kansas high-school he attended. 

The diner that you had started working at at age 17 was mere biking distance from his house.

The diner where Jake sat you down and told you he was going to college in LA whether you liked it or not was only 30 minutes away from his grandma’s house.

So in hindsight, you should’ve seen this coming.

“Y/n! Hurry it up, we need to clear tables before the dinner rush!” Your boss, Patty, yelled at you before proceeding to let out a few painful coughs; her karma for all those cigarette butts that littered the parking lot.

You nodded, grumbling out a quiet “I got it, Pat.” before tying your apron on extra tight and double checking your name-tag wasn’t out of place. It wasn’t like Patty would care, but after working at the diner for so long; you found that, for some reason, you cared.

Your non-slip shoes carried you across the tiles that always seemed to have a slight sticky feeling to them, bringing you to the table where your ex was sitting. 

“Welcome to Patty’s Diner, can I take your order?” You asked, pretending you had no clue who the man sitting in the booth was. You knew it was petty, but you didn’t care. Sure, the two of you had broken up nearly 10 years ago but there he was with that same stupid lopsided smile pretending like he didn’t know.

The worst part was, he looked like his stupid dreams of becoming an influencer came true. His short brown hair now a pitch black mullet, it seems that he’d adopted a new look that screamed “Punk Rock.”

It made your stomach churn in disgust.

“Y/n?” Jake put down the menu that was practically engraved into the back of your brain. “You still work here?” He asked- a unknowing jab to your already sore ego.

You scowled at him before nodding, “...Yeah, Yeah I do.” You grumbled, tapping your pen against your notepad. “Are you gonna order something or not?” 

You knew it was rude, and if Patty heard you talking to a customer like that she’d probably send you home- worried you were sick because being rude was not a quality of yours; but you didn’t care. 

Jake deserved it after the way he’d left you to rot in this dingy diner.

Jake held up his hands defensively, sighing before looking back down at the diner’s menu. You watched through squinted eyes as he purposefully took an agonizingly long time deciding what he wanted; you knew it was on purpose because he kept tracing his finger around the salad section.

It may have been years since you’d seen the man, but Jake Webber did not eat salads- at very least not when chocolate chip pancakes were also on the menu.

“Chocolate Chip pancakes with a side of bacon, extra chocolate chips.” You sighed, your patience running thin as you plucked the menu from Jake’s hands and wrote down his order on your notepad in one swift motion.

Jake blinked up at you for a few moments before chuckling, “You remembered.” 

You rolled your eyes, “If you came in just to flirt with me then you can leave now.” Jake’s smile faltered for a quick moment, “Are you seeing someone else?” He asked- having the nerve to make his tone…hurt?

You didn’t know whether to be insulted he thought you weren’t, or hurt that his original assumption was correct. You were single like- very single- like the type of single that made your friends from high-school ask if you ever planned on dating anyone.

“No.” You mumbled, hating how his smile fell back onto his face. Before he could say another word, you made your way to the kitchen, handing one of the line-cooks the order. 

For better or for worse, you told the line-cook to take his time before rushing back out to the dining room. You didn't have any other tables under your belt right now which meant you could give your full attention to your ex.

Jake’s eyes brightened as you slid into the booth, a look of determination on your face. “H-” 

You cut him off.

“Did it work out?” You asked the man firmly, using every muscle in your body to stop any emotion from seeping into your tone. Jake furrowed his brows, “...Did what work out?” He asked, making your eyes roll.

“Moving to LA. Did it work out?” You shrug, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest; an attempt to shield your heart from the words you knew were coming.

Jake stammered for a moment before sighing, “...Yeah, actually. I uh, I’ve got 3 million subscribers on youtube…” He boasted bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. You let out a breath, tapping your non-slip shoes against the sticky tile.

“That’s nice, I’m glad things worked out for you.” You mumbled, the words were genuine- even if your feelings were hurt. Jake smiled and nodded, “Thanks.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment before Jake spoke up, “What’re you still doing here?” He asked, not a drop of judgement in his tone. If anything, the man sounded genuinely curious.

You shrugged, looking anywhere but the man’s eyes. “I don’t know, college was draining my bank account and…I just…” You didn’t know what else to say because you truthfully didn’t know what you were still doing in Buttfuck Kanas. 

When Jake told you he was going to LA with little to no plan, whether you came along or not- you told him good luck chasing a childish dream. Maybe it was karma that he’d succeeded and you’d be stuck in time in this shitty diner.

Jake frowned, thinking over his words- which was a new development since you’d dated him. Just as he opened his mouth, you heard the familiar ding come from the kitchen; Jake’s order was ready.

You slid out of the booth, quickly hurrying to grab the stack of pancakes and bacon. “Hey, kid.” Patty’s voice stopped you in your tracks, you turned around- hot plate burning your wrist. 

“That boy you were talkin’ too, he your ex?” Patty asked, a hazy memory of her comforting you the day Jake broke your heart playing in the back of her mind. You nodded, “Yeah, that’s uh..that’s Jake.” 

Patty scowled, reaching for the cigarette in her mouth. You knew what she was planning, yet you stopped her. “Patty!” You scolded, making the older woman raise her hands defensively. 

“Do you remember how heartbroken you were when he burned off to LA?” She asked, placing her hands on her hips; not caring that cigarette ash was falling to the ground. You frowned, remembering how Patty had to physically pick you up off the bathroom tile and hold your hair as you dry heaved into the toilet.

“I’ve got it Pat, promise.” You swore, earning a judgemental glance from the grey-haired woman. Patty sighed but waved you off, saying she was still going to upcharge him.

You didn’t argue with her about that.

“The Webber Special.” You joked as you placed the food down in front of Jake, making the man chuckle; it’d been years since he’d been in this diner, let alone ordered what was once known as “The Webber Special”. 

You turned to walk back to the kitchen, where you’d wait for more customers to come in but Jake stopped you.

If it was any other customer, you would’ve assumed you forgot butter or syrup, but it wasn’t any other customer. You knew what Jake wanted.

Jake wanted you.

“I’m on the clock, Jay.” You scolded, surprising the pair of you at how easily the nickname slipped out and how quick it made any tension between you two melt away. “Just a few minutes?” Jake asked, tilting his head ever so slightly to the right; his eyes practically begging you to sit back down in the booth. 

You sighed, glancing around the diner. The dinner rush wouldn’t be here for another 30 minutes at least and Jake was your only table right now…

So you sat.

You squirmed awkwardly under Jake’s gaze, the cracked fabric of the bright red booth shifting beneath you. Jake noticed and looked away, opting to cut into his fluffy stack of pancakes; you let a breath of relief.

The two of you sat in silence once more for a few minutes, Jake silently eating as you stared at the table- silent judging the streak-marks left from the off-brand table cleaner that Patty had bulk ordered on accident.

“I’m sorry.” Jake looked up, letting his utensils fall against his plate with a soft ‘clink!’. Your brow quirked upwards, “What?”

“I said, I’m sorry.” Jake said honestly, making your heart stop for a moment. “Oh.” You responded, feeling your foot begin to tap against the tile once more.

“I…It wasn’t fair to just leave you like that, it…it should’ve been a collective decision.” Jake went on, making all those emotions from all those years bubble up. “Jake, I-” He cut you off.

“I tried making myself feel better by telling myself that you were probably off somewhere else- with a new guy, hell- maybe even a kid but-” Jake shook his head in disbelief, meeting your eyes once more. His heart faltered when he realized they were watery.

Jake reached out to hold your hand, you were cautious but let him; feeling the same electricity you felt all those years ago.

“You’re here and…you shouldn’t be. I mean c’mon Y/n, you’re not the kind of girl whose meant to just wither away in some dingy diner.” Jake’s words were harsh- but they were true. Patty paid you enough for groceries and rent but you didn’t want to have enough money for groceries and rent.

You wanted to wear fancy clothes, to try new restaurants, to travel.

Letting out a shaky breath, you found you were only able to shrug. “You left, Jake. You left and…I stayed here.” Your tone was hurt, and your words cut deep- but they were true. “I’m sorry.” Jake apologized once more; it was nice, but you didn’t have any proof of the apology being true.

“Come back to LA with me.” Jake proposed, your eyes widened as they locked with his. “Are you crazy?!” You asked the punk, bewildered by his request. Jake shrugged as a joke, his grin widening as your lips quirked upwards without your permission.

“Just for this week, tickets on me.” Jake continued his proposal, making your mind race. You knew Patty would give you the days off; she practically begged you to take Christmas off every year.

You slid out the booth, leaving Jake behind to sit with the consequences of his impulsive thoughts.

Jake smiled weakly at the waiter who slid him his check, feeling awful for scaring you away. Jake picked up the receipt to write in a hefty tip- his brows knitting together at a post-it note being attached to the back.

‘[Number], text me the ticket.’

a/n : the ending is rushed but i hope it's still good </3

[thetriumphantpanda]

I’m begging and on my knees🧎‍♀️ drunk make-up sex with Javier Peña with a dash of angst please

Have a nice day!

Anon, I see you on your knees. You can get up now because here you go! Thank you so much for sending this in, I hope you love it!

Pairing | Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count| 1.8k

Warnings | Explicit, 18+ Minors DNI. Not many warnings for this one apart from alcohol consumption, a dash of angst, Javi begging for forgiveness on his knees (Translation, oral sex (f) receiving) and unprotected PiV sex.

Part of my 1k Smut Sensation Celebration - if you want in, check here for details - I’m accepting requests through July 15th.

The empty bottle of wine on the coffee table is taunting you, just like the unopened second bottle of wine in your fridge is taunting you as well. The phone in the entryway is also doing a pretty good job of taunting you, begging you pick it up, dial his number and apologise, even though this had been all his fault. You sigh, pushing yourself up from the couch to go and retrieve the second bottle of wine from the fridge. Maybe another glass or two would be enough to knock you out so you didn’t feel the need to pick up the phone. 

You’re pouring the white liquid into your glass when there’s a soft knock at your door. For a moment, you consider ignoring it, thinking it’s probably only going to be your neighbour, knocking on your door for the third time this week because he’d forgotten an essential ingredient for dinner or wanted to complain about where you’d parked your car. You were likely to explode at him, so you take a large sip of the wine, wincing as it burns down your throat, your own fault for picking the cheapest option you could find, and take the glass and the new bottle to the couch. 

There’s another knock at the door, this time more insistent. You grumble, all you want is be left alone to wallow in your self-pity, so curse whoever this was that wouldn’t let you do that. In hindsight, you should have looked through the peephole in your door to check who it was that was disturbing you, but instead, you yank it open with a frustrated ‘what?!’ to be met with none other than Javier Peña. 

He's taken back by the venom in your words, swaying slightly as he steps back with his hands raised in surrender like he’s scared you might strangle him. It takes your alcohol-fogged brain a few seconds to realise he’s just as drunk as you are.

“Are you drunk?!” You exclaim, voice louder than intended because of the wine coursing through your veins. 

“Might be,” He shrugs, a lot calmer than you are when you’ve had a drink, “Think you might be as well.” He’s peering into your apartment, pointing a finger at the two bottles of wine on the table. 

“Jesus Christ,” You mumble, leaning forward to grab the collar of his leather jacket to drag him into your home, “Get in here before I get a noise complaint.” 

“Never worried much about those before, hermosa.” He grins as you shut the door behind him. 

“Shut up and sit down,” You demand, pointing to the couch, “What the hell are you even doing here?” 

This is when his exterior changes. Gone is that bravado and confidence you’re used to, that attracted you to him in the first place, replaced with aa nervous energy and a shifting in his seat. He leans over, picks up your wine glass and takes a hefty drink of it. 

“I miss you.” Is all he says. 

“Miss me?” You scoff, folding your arms over your chest, “You’re the one who left, Javier.”

“I did it to keep you safe.” He mutters. 

“Safe?” You ask, “Nothing about this fucking place is safe, Javier, you leaving probably did the opposite.” 

“I wasn’t talking about Colombia, querida,” He sighs, “I was talking about me.” 

You’re stunned into silence for a moment. If there was one thing you knew about Javier Peña, it was that this man in front of you, though capable of hurting most people, would never lay a finger on you. He’d never hurt you, apart from breaking your heart two weeks ago when he left without a word and didn’t bother calling. 

“I don’t…” You start, not being able to find the right words through the brain fog, “I don’t understand.” 

He’s standing now, walking slowly towards you to test the water as he speaks, “I’m not good at this,” He begins, “I’m not good at falling, I know I can’t be the man that you want me to be, the man I know you see when you look at me with your beautiful eyes,” He’s so close to you now, palm of his hand cupping your cheek, “I was only ever going to break your heart, hermosa, I just did it before it was too late.” 

“Then why are you here, Javi?” Your voice falters, head tilting into the warmth of his hand. 

“Because I can’t stay away,” He murmurs, “I want to be that man for you, I want to be better, I want to give you everything, to make you happy, God I want to try,” His face is inches from yours, you can feel hiss breath fanning across your cheeks, “Will you let me?” 

You don’t answer, instead, you push yourself up onto your tiptoes, wrap your arms around his neck and catch his lips with yours. He moves forward, pressing the breadth of his body against yours, one arm wrapping around your back to pull you even closer to him. You run your tongue along his plump bottom lip and groan when his mouth opens for you. It’s messy and it’s desperate and you’re both trying to drink each other in as much as possible. You because you’re scared he might pull away and leave again. Javi because he’s worried you’ll come to your senses and kick him out, just like he deserves. 

You taste the multitude of whiskey on his tongue, mixing with the taste of smoke from his cigarettes. It’s a heady mix and you’d missed it. You’re whining when he pulls away from you, trying to drag his face back to yours because you don’t think you ever want to be without his lips on yours again, but he’s dropping to his knees in front of you, and suddenly you don’t mind so much. 

“Forgive me?” He breathes, hooking his fingers into the band of your sleep shorts, dragging them down your legs to pool at your ankles, “Forgive me, hermosa.” 

Your hands are tangling in his hair, fingers running through the wayward locks. His mouth is so close to your core you can feel the heat of his breath fanning over your skin. He uses one of his wide palms to push gently at your stomach, leaning you back against the wall. Then, he takes hold of one your thighs, moving your legs to drape over his shoulder, the other firmly planted on the ground to keep you upright. 

You look down at him and he’s looking up at you, devilish grin painted across his face. He keeps his brown eyes locked with your own as his tongue flicks out and licks a perfect, wide stripe, up the seam of your pussy. Your head tilts back, hitting the wall behind you as a gasp leaves your lips when he does it again, this time letting his tongue dip between your folds to worship at your clit. 

You can feel his free hand spreading you for him, then his tongue is swirling fully over your clit and you’re crying out his name into the dark, tugging the hand that is tangled in his hair as you grind your pussy into his face. 

Javi could take you apart with military precision. In the span of a few short months, he’d managed to learn the exact movements of his tongue and fingers to get you off in record time. You can tell that this man is desperate to be inside you because his fingers are sliding through your slick and pushing into you with a ferocity you’re not used to. He’s relentless in his pace, curling his fingers up into you, hitting the spot that makes you sing, whilst his tongue is working quick flicks around your clit. 

“Fuck-” You groan, legs shaking as Javi has your hurtling towards the edge, “Fucking missed this.” 

His mouth pulls from your aching cunt just long enough to speak up at you, “Let go for me hermosa,” His wet mouth presses a kiss to your inner thigh, fingers still working in and out of you, “Come on my mouth.” 

His lips envelop your clit, there’s the pressure of sucking, the pressure of his fingers deep in your pussy, and the feeling of the tip of his tongue still running tight circles over your clit. Combine it all and you’ve got his name falling from your lips, orgasm slamming into you as Javi’s hands fly to your hips to keep you upright, mouth still working your clit through the aftershocks. 

Once he’s sure you’re not going to crumble to a heap on the floor, he’s standing, undoing his belt and tearing it through the belt loops in one motion. He unzips his jeans and pulls them down just enough to free his cock, before his hands are reaching around to pull you up. You wrap your legs around his waist whilst he pins you to the wall. His thick cock is buried inside you in one, swift thrust, and he doesn’t give you the usual time to adjust to him before he’s rutting into you, your back hitting the wall with every thrust. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispers into your ear, tip of his nose running along your jawline as he peppers kisses across your skin, “I’m sorry, hermosa,” His teeth are worrying at different inches of skin, biting and sucking until he leaves marks before soothing them with kisses, “Tell me you forgive me.” 

Your pussy is throbbing with every hard thrust he makes; you can feel yourself clenching around him. Your hands are gripping at his shoulders through the leather of his jacket and the angle of your position means he’s going to push you over the edge a second time. There is no way you couldn’t forgive this man in this moment. 

“Always,” You moan, “Always forgive you Javi,” Your hips are grinding down into his own to meet his thrusts, “Just don’t leave me again.” 

He leans his head forward, resting it to your forehead as he continues to fuck you, “Can feel you,” He mumbles, “Feel you getting tight for me, come with me?” 

You let out a high-pitched squeal at his words, as he picks up the speed. Neither of you are going to last long. It’s you that finishes first, fingernails dragging along the leather of his shoulders, your throbbing cunt clenching around his thick cock, which is all it takes for him to join you. You revel in the sound of your name falling from his lips as he fills you up. 

He manages to hold you up long enough to move you both back to the couch. He sits down, you still straddling his hips, as he brushes the hair from your face. His lips kiss at every inch of skin they can find along your face and neck whilst you catch your breath, “I truly am sorry, hermosa,” He speaks softly once you’ve recovered enough to look at him, “And I’ll spend as long as I need to proving that to you.” 

[a-lonely-dunedain]

every magic school has the Cringefail Newbie and the Self-Proclaimed Prodigy that adopted him <3

so I finally managed a drawing of Elbryn I'm actually happy with! idk if I'll ever write a proper fic involving him but I do have many Thoughts™ about the lil guy so I'll just dump them here under the cut

so after his rather embarrassing magical mishap in Helgen (which he's pretty sure didn't summon the dragon? but he isn't ruling it out as a possibility) he basically swears off using spells entirely and opts for a war axe

somehow manages to not die despite his lack of skill, figures out he's the Dragonborn yadda-yadda, we've all played the quests.

actually counts the Seven-Thousand-Steps to High-Hrothgar like the nerd he is. It was significantly more than seven thousand and his legs hurt so badly.

after making it to High-Hrothgar the Greybeards basically told Elbryn that he would need to become stronger before he could battle dragons as equals and master his Thu'um. Unfortunately they didn't provide much guidance on exactly how he should go about that, only telling him "that path would be made clear" and leaving the rest up to him.

Decides to go back to Whiterun and join the Companions. He's very intimidated by them, but they're probably the best people he could hope to learn from if he wants to master his skills with a blade.

Notably he goes to great lengths to hide his status as the Dragonborn from basically everyone. He feels as though the people of Skyrim are disheartened enough with the return of the Dragons, and if they knew this "legendary dragon-slayer" was really just some scrawny Breton ex-mage it would only dishearten them further, so he feels like it's better to let everyone assume the Dragonborn is some strong and fearsome Nord warrior or something of that nature. At least until he feels as though he can live up to the title.

He also hides his past as a mage from them because he gets the sense that the Companions would like, instantly stop respecting him if they knew. He does feel very bad about keeping so many secrets from them though, seeing as they all talk a big game about how they "don't deal in secrets like thieves and mages do"

Anyway things with the Companions go surprisingly well! His fighting skills improve significantly and he actually starts to form an unlikely friendship with Farkas. a bit of an "opposites attract" type thing. Farkas sees that Elbryn has a lot of potential but lacks confidence, so he sorta decided to take him under his wing. (Vilkas is a bit less fond of Elbryn though. not that he really dislikes him or anything, but he catches on that he's hiding something and doesn't quite trust it)

anyway if you know how the Companions questline goes you know that they take you into the Underforge with the intention of turning you into a werewolf alarmingly fast. Elbryn was still willing to work with them upon learning they were werewolves, but becoming one himself? no no no no nope. He basically tells them "yeah uhh I'll need to think about it", goes to his room, packs his stuff and sneaks off that very same night without saying a word to anyone. In hindsight he feels bad about that. Kinda wishes he had left Farkas a note or something, but he was scared and in a hurry. Oh well, nothing to be done about it now...

now I know they weren't going to force him to become a werewolf or anything, but Elbryn didn't know that. I mean they said they weren't going to force him but they also said the Companions don't deal in secrets, yet here they are doing this under Kodlak's nose in the dead of night! he has no idea what to think or expect or who he could even talk to and these guys have teeth. so he just runs.

north specifically. Not for any particular reason, he just had to pick a direction and it happened to be north. Wanders around for a bit, unsure of were to go now that his only source of martial training fell through.

Eventually comes across Frostflow Lighthouse (REAL downer of a dungeon that one) Now the thing about Frostflow is that near the end you drop down a cliff, and the only way back out is through the final boss. the giant Chaurus Reaper. So he's cornered down there, alone, with a foe he is woefully unprepared to fight. (In game it kept two-shotting me lmao, but I decided to make a story thing out of it!)

So in desperation he decides to use his magic. Not a lot mind you, maybe just to heal himself or create a flash to stun it so he could get away, but whatever it was he intended to do with it hardly matters, because that's not what ended up happening.

See, as it turns out, when you're naturally gifted with high amounts of magic, trying to suppress it for long periods of time like what Elbryn did basically turns you into a magic bomb. So the moment he tried to tap into his magika reserves, it was like a dam burst open. Everything in the cavern was engulfed in a storm of pure untamed magical energy, swirling and burning and tearing until nothing was left of the Chaurus but some strips of charred flesh and chitin

Elbryn immediately passes out, wakes up an indeterminate amount of time later dazed and utterly horrified at the carnage he left behind. I mean sure, it worked out in his favor this time, he was surrounded by foes and going scorched earth was really the only option, but if someone else had been with him? if something like that were to happen when he was with a friend or trying to protect or rescue someone... He looks back at the charred bits of Chaurus strewn about.

yeah, just suppressing his magic ain't gonna cut it, he needs to learn how to control it or else. There's a college in Winterhold right? that's where he has to go then. So he sets out east over the ice fields and hopes he can make it there before getting hopelessly lost and dying.

(ok I had a lot more to say but this was getting LONG I'll have to make another post later lol. sorry, Elbryn decided he wanted to have a story so I guess there's a story now)