#Probably going to workshop this one for a bit

[springsketches]

It’s been a long night, but now we can feel the air, listen to the crickets, and watch the stars since time has stopped looping. Most importantly, though, is that it’s here with you.

Decided to do some fanart for a game. I finally got to playing it and it was really good! This art I drew is not my best but I decided to put it out there still because I think it’s cute. My personal headcannon of what a conversation at the end of the “leave ending” would be. Go check out black tabby games for their games slay the princess and scarlet hollow!

[thesecondhandwoman]

Vi, Jinx, Sevika and Caitlyn (separate) with an s/o who self harms? I couldn't find any rules on your pinned page, so sorry if this violates anything!

SELF HARM CONFESSIONS

Arcane woman x f!reader

Synopsis: How arcane woman (Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Sevika, Ambessa, Mel, Grayson) would react when they find out that you cope with your mental struggles through self-harm and respond with different types of comfort as a result.

Request: Anon 🤍

VI

Vi had always been observant. Her years in the Lanes taught her to read people, spot dangers, and sense when something wasn’t right. That’s why, as much as you tried to hide it, she noticed.

You were seated at the kitchen table, mindlessly picking at the hem of your sleeve unconsciously while Vi leaned against the counter, arms crossed. Her brows furrowed, her red hair glowing faintly under the warm kitchen light.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” she started, her voice soft yet probing. “And don’t tell me you’re just tired, babe. Something’s up.”

You froze, keeping your eyes downcast. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t give me that,” she pushed, stepping closer. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Her use of the pet name chipped away at your resolve, but you stayed silent. Then her hand was on yours, her calloused fingers tugging your sleeve up. You flinched, trying to pull away, but she was faster. Her breath hitched as her eyes landed on the faint scars and fresh marks that littered your arm.

“Sweetheart,” Her voice cracked, breaking through your defenses. Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled your arm away, hiding it in your lap.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words tumbling out like a confession. “I didn’t know how else to—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her tone firm but not unkind. She crouched in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Don’t apologize for this. Just why didn’t you tell me?”

You bit your lip, unable to meet her gaze. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Vi let out a shaky laugh, one filled with disbelief and heartbreak. “A burden? Babe, you’re my whole damn world. I’d carry whatever weight you’re holding if it meant you didn’t have to feel like this.”

She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her chest. You sobbed against her, and she held you tighter, her fingers running through your hair.

“We’ll figure this out,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’ve got me, okay? You’re not alone, and I want you to know that.”

JINX

Jinx had been watching you closely for weeks. Her scatterbrained nature didn’t stop her from noticing the way you winced when she grabbed your arm or how you avoided her eyes when she asked if you were okay.

That night, she cornered you in her workshop. The dim lighting cast shadows across her face, her wide blue eyes boring into yours.

“Alright, spill it, toots,” she said, hands on her hips. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, trying to sidestep her. But Jinx wasn’t having it. She grabbed your wrist, gently but firmly, and tugged you closer.

“Liar,” she teased, though there was no humor in her voice. “You’re hiding something.”

When she rolled up your sleeve and saw the faint scars, her playful demeanor evaporated. “What… what is this?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Tears filled your eyes as you tried to pull away. “It’s nothing. Just forget it. I told you, it’s nothing.”

“No way,” she said, her voice wavering. “It’s not nothing, sugarplum, and neither are you, because I know that you are probably thinking that right now to do this. You’re my favorite person.”

The sincerity in her voice made your tears spill over. “I’m sorry, Jinx. I didn’t mean—“

“Shh,” she cut you off, pulling you into a tight hug. “Don’t be sorry. Just promise me you’ll tell me when you’re feeling like that, okay? I’ll never judge you for something like this. We’ll figure it out together, step by step, even if they’re small.”

You nodded against her shoulder, her chaotic energy melting into a rare moment of calm as she held you, lightly rubbing your back.

CAITLYN

Caitlyn had always prided herself on her investigative skills. So when she started noticing the long sleeves you wore in the heat of summer and the distant look in your eyes, she knew something was wrong.

She confronted you one evening in the parlor, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she watched you fidget.

“Darling, is there something you’re not telling me?” she asked, her voice gentle but insistent.

You hesitated, but her sharp eyes didn’t miss the way your hands gripped your sleeves. Without a word, she reached out, brushing her fingers over your wrist.

“Please,” she said softly. “Let me in, tell me what is wrong, dear.”

The tears came unbidden as you rolled up your sleeve, revealing the scars. Caitlyn’s eyes widened, her lips parting in shock, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned closer, taking your hands in hers.

“Oh, my love,” she murmured, her voice breaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you, and I was scared of how you might see me because of this.” you whispered.

Caitlyn shook her head vehemently, her grip tightening. “You could never disappoint me. You’re the most important person in my life. Please, let me help you.”

She pulled you into her arms, holding you like you might break. “We’ll get through this,” she promised, her voice steady. “I’m sorry you’ve felt like this for so long, my love.”

SEVIKA

Sevika wasn’t one to pry, but when she noticed the scars on your arms during a rare moment of intimacy, she couldn’t stay quiet.

“What’s this?” she asked, her voice low and measured as she traced the faint lines with her prosthetic fingers.

You tried to pull away, but her flesh hand caught your wrist. “Don’t,” she said, her tone soft yet firm. “Talk to me.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you couldn’t hold it back anymore, knowing that you were already painted red, so you confessed, your voice shaky. “It’s just… sometimes it’s too much.”

Sevika didn’t speak for a long moment, her eyes locked on yours. Then she pulled you into her lap, wrapping her arms around you protectively.

“Listen to me, doll,” she said, her voice steady. “I don’t care how messy things get—I’m here for you. Always, mk?”

She lifted her hand and lightly cupped your cheek, her expression becoming even more sympathetic as your eyes swelled with unshed tears. “I’ve been through my own rough shit and I get how it is, all tiring, always frustrating, but I promise you aren’t alone.”

You cried into her chest as she stroked your back, murmuring soft reassurances. “You’re my girl,” she said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And I’m not letting you go through this by yourself, doll. I promise.”

AMBESSA

The sound of the door opening made your heart drop into your stomach. You hadn’t expected Ambessa to return so soon. You froze, the small blade still clutched in your trembling hand, red droplets forming at the edges of the fresh cut on your arm.

“Dove?” Ambessa’s voice echoed through the room, low and firm, tinged with the warmth she reserved only for you. You scrambled to pull your sleeve down, your movements clumsy with panic, but it was too late.

Ambessa stood in the doorway, her sharp eyes narrowing as they landed on you, taking in your pale face and the way you hastily tried to hide your arm. She stepped forward, her heavy boots thudding against the floor, and you instinctively backed up, bumping into the edge of the desk behind you.

When she saw how scared you were, skittish and small, she immediately looked confused and worried. “What were you doing?”

You stayed quiet, clenching the hem of your sleeve as you stared down. “Nothing, love, just waiting for you.”

“Let me see,” she said, her tone calm but commanding.

“No,” you stammered, clutching your arm protectively. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Ambessa didn’t respond immediately. Instead, her eyes darted down to the faint stain of blood that had soaked through your sleeve. Her jaw tightened, and she exhaled sharply through her nose.

“Dove,” she said again, softer this time, her voice trembling just slightly. “Please, let me see.”

You hesitated, tears welling in your eyes as you slowly loosened your grip and allowed her to gently take your wrist. She pushed the fabric of your sleeve up with careful fingers, revealing the fresh cut alongside the faint scars of others that came before it. Her eyes moved over the marks, her expression unreadable.

For a moment, the room was silent except for your shallow breaths. Then Ambessa knelt before you, taking your hand in hers. Her usual unshakable confidence seemed to waver as she looked up at you, her golden eyes glistening.

“Why, dove?” she asked softly, her voice thick with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to stop it from trembling. “I didn’t want you to think I was weak,” you whispered, barely able to meet her gaze.

Ambessa let out a low, shaky breath and reached up to cup your cheek with her free hand. Her palm was warm, grounding against your skin. “Weak?” she repeated, almost incredulous. “You’ve survived so much, little dove. There’s nothing weak about you. But this?” She gestured gently to your arm. “This isn’t something you have to face alone, nor do because it seems like the only reliever.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you broke down, your shoulders shaking with sobs. Ambessa immediately pulled you into her arms, holding you close to her chest. Her embrace was firm but gentle, her chin resting on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, clutching at her shirt.

“No, dove,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Don’t apologize. Just let me help you. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words wrapped around you like a safety net, her steady presence making the weight you’d been carrying just a little easier to bear. She rocked you gently, her strong hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“We’ll get through this together,” she whispered, her voice as steady as her resolve. “I’ll fight every battle with you, dove. You don’t have to bleed alone.”

You nodded weakly against her chest, your tears soaking into her shirt as she continued to hold you like you were the most precious thing in the world. Because to her, you were.

MEL

Mel had a way of drawing the truth out of people, her natural elegance and empathy making it impossible to lie to her. When she first noticed the scars on your arm, a fleeting glimpse as you adjusted your sleeve, she didn’t say anything. Not right away. Instead, she observed, waiting for the right moment to approach you.

That moment came one quiet evening in her private study. You’d been sitting together in silence, the golden glow of the lamps illuminating her features as she worked on a painting.

“My love,” she began, her tone casual yet deliberate, “I’ve noticed something. Will you talk to me about it?”

You stiffened, your heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

She set her brush down, turning to face you fully. Her gaze was gentle, but it pierced through every wall you’d built. “I saw the scars, darling,” she said softly. “You don’t have to hide them from me.”

Your breath caught, and tears filled your eyes but you held them back as you stammered, “I—I don’t know what you are talking about, love.”

Mel crossed the room and knelt in front of you, taking your hands in hers. “Y/N, my love, you do know that you don’t have to hide this from me, yes? I know it may be a sensitive topic, and I get if you are not ready to fully talk about it, but I hate to see you hurt yourself.”

You stared down at her as the tears stung to far and started trailing down your cheeks, causing you to choke on a sob. “I—I just didn’t want to see how weak I am, especially if it makes me do this.”

Mel paused, looking at you with a look of disbelief and love. “Weak? My love, you are not weak for surviving through the pain in your own way. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do it alone, not anymore atleast.”

She brought your hands to her lips, kissing them tenderly. “I want to help you, however I can. You are everything to me.”

Her words broke through the dam, and you sobbed as she pulled you into her arms. “You’re safe with me,” she whispered, stroking your hair. “Always.”

GRAYSON

Grayson was the epitome of calm and collected, especially due to being an enforcer. Her steady presence made you feel safe, but it also made it hard to open up about the pain you carried. Still, she wasn’t one to ignore when someone she loved was struggling.

She first noticed when she brushed against your arm during a casual hug, her keen eyes catching the slight flinch you tried to hide. Grayson didn’t say anything then, but later that evening, right after shift as you sat together on the couch with a cup of tea, she addressed it.

“Darling,” she began, setting her tea aside. “I’ve noticed something, and I need you to be honest with me.”

You froze, your cup trembling in your hands. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes softened as she reached out, placing a hand over yours. “I saw the marks, love. You don’t have to explain if you’re not ready, but I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you glanced at her before looking down at your wrists. You could feel the pain rise just from looking at the area, but the reminder that it helped.

Slowly, you took a breath and whispered, “I didn’t want to worry you. You’re always so strong, and I didn’t want to bother you with this.”

Grayson’s expression shifted, a flicker of heartbreak crossing her face. She set your cup aside and pulled you into her arms, her embrace gentle yet firm.

“Oh, darling,” she murmured, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You’re never a bother to me. You’re the most important thing in my life.”

Her calm voice washed over you like a balm. “Whatever’s hurting you, I want to be here. Whether it’s listening or talking with you about other options, I couldn’t care less, as long as you know that we are doing it together.”

You sobbed against her, and she held you tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice steady. “More than anything. And I’ll always be here for you.”

A/N: I honestly got a lot of requests for this, and I know that it might be a very sensitive topic for some people. However, for however it touches on a more personal level, I hope that you guys are okay and know that you are enough (and hoping this was able to comfort you a little).

[cosmicporos]

What Arcane characters would gift you for Christmas!

Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce

(Semi crack Drabble… sorry for going super long with Viktor’s and Jayce’s HCs. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)

(Jayce is Hispanic in my hc :3)

ENJOY AND HAVE FUN LOVE YALL<3

Not proofread

JINX

Hear me out… the first thing she would plan to gift you are decorated safety googles.

As a matter of fact everything she gifts you is handmade!

She knows you love to spend time with her when she’s in her workshop and the extra spare of googles she had were pretty crappy…

“Ugh, these old things? Pfft, they look like they’ve been through a freakin’ explosion… oh wait, they probably have! We gotta get you a new pair soon toots!”

They’d be totally decked out! Lots of character as she calls it.

“Okay toots check it out! Maximum protection but most importantly! They got style!”

The googles themselves would be in her classic style, very colorful paint, cute little heart scribbles all around! And of course lots of glitter….

“"I mean, you've got to stay safe while causing mayhem, right? And hey, if we're blowing stuff up together, you'll definitely need these. Plus, I made them perfectly for you. No one else will have goggles like these... trust me!"

I totally see her adding little handmade jewelry from her gears and spare parts, would totally make you a belt or choker out of spare bullets.

Vi

She would totally panic on what to get you for Christmas. Like what if you suddenly hate the thing you’ve loved since the very beginning she’s known you???

Would end up both buying and making you something!

She’s make you something small but meaningful

“Okay Okay fine! You can open mine now. Just don’t laugh too hard Cupcake…”

You’d open the poorly wrapped gift to uncover a bright pink scarf she knitted you! The stitching is a mess.. there a hole’s through the project (no doubt a missed stitch) but in all honesty it so cute you feel like your heart might explode.

"Yeah, I know I'm not, uh, the best at this kind of thing," she mutters, scratching the back of her neck, "but I figured you could use something to keep warm... and, you know, 'cause it's winter. And... you're important to me."

Guys please tell her she did an amazing job PLEASE.

She would also totally buy you a pair of combat boots! Totally saved up for months in advance.

She loves the idea of being able to match and have a bit of her style on you!

Ekko

Just like Jinx (sobs) he’d also make something for you!

The first thing he’d give you would be a little sketch book full of drawings of you from random moments throughout your relationship he remembers oh so clearly.

"I've been working on it for a while... It's... it's just a bunch of drawings. I mean, not just anything. Stuff that made me think of you. Stuff we've done, or things I hope we do. I don't know, it just felt like the best way to show how I feel about... well, us."

Okay he would also totally make you matching jewelry (matching clock hand necklaces?)

You’d force him to take the hour hand since it’s shorter (heheheh little man)

Once you explain your reasoning as to why he should take the smaller one he sighs disappointedly…

"Okay, okay, I get it," he finally says, a little less playful now, his voice softening. "I guess if you want me to wear it, I can..."

Then, a grin creeps back onto his face as he adds, "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook with the minute hand. You're wearing that one for sure." He places the hour hand necklace around his neck, the smaller pendant resting there, and looks up at you with that mischievous gleam in his eye.

He pauses, holding up his necklace, "I'm still the one with the bigger job. You'll just have to keep up." A proud smug smirk now rests on his face.

Viktor

FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN I LOVE THIS MAN

o k a y. He would just like Vi panic… not because he doesn’t know what to get you but because he totally is going Christmas shopping late… very very late.

As much as I would love to say he’d make some little invention to make your day easier and give it to you for Christmas I don’t see it happening.

Not because he wouldn’t do it but because he already does it all the time! A little example, you’re late for work often? A little robot that hits you with a plastic squishy hammer every morning at 7 am waking you up when he can’t!

He’d definitely want to make Christmas special, I see him buying you something and then doing something special for you too!

Christmas morning would be greeted with warm hugs and kisses along with an even warmer bowl of potato soup!

He wanted to make sure he perfected his mother’s Bramboračka recipe. It was a once a year meal him and his mother shared every Christmas day.

He’s not a good cook by any means… but this is the one dish he can make and oh boy can he make it.

"Don't expect perfection," he says with a small, self-conscious smile, as you catch him sneaking a taste of the soup. Viktor looks up, his gaze softening. "I hope you like it," he says, and despite his usual perfectionism, there's a quiet pride in his voice. You take a sip, and the rich flavors of mushrooms, potatoes, and herbs immediately comfort you, just like his mother's love must've comforted him all those years ago.

OKAY for the making gift he planned I see him commissioning something due to the fact a lot of his inventions lack aesthetics.

Specifically I see him commissioning a music box that functions as a a jewelry box as well! He would have loved to make it himself but he was worried he wouldn’t have gotten the look right.

"Do you like it?" he asks, his voice softer than usual, as if he's worried about the reception. "I had it made... I thought... it might remind you of us."

The detail was breathtaking-floral patterns etched into the surface, with tiny gears and delicate metalwork accenting the edges. The craftsmanship was stunning, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over the smooth finish.

you lifted the lid, and a gentle, lilting melody began to play. It was slow and sweet, a tune that felt timeless, and as you stared at the tiny figurines inside, your breath caught.

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cane, his gaze flicking between you and the music box. "I commissioned it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I had the craftsman use a sketch I made. It's how I see us... in my mind. How I feel when I hold you." He paused, his expression softening. "I thought... I thought you deserved something that would remind you of that. Of... how much you mean to me."

Jayce

Oh hon… Jayce would spoil you rotten.

I’m talking presents are overflowing underneath the tree.

You thought you lost your favorite piece of clothing? WRONG! He commissioned for more to be made in different colors and textures for you.

All the fragrances in the world he knew you would enjoy.

Cozy adorable pajamas we would give you Christmas morning so you could cuddle up drinking hot chocolate.

Spends Christmas Eve spoiling you and cuddling and being so tooth rottenly sweet.

It’s Christmas Eve, the scene was almost overwhelming. The living room looked like a perfectly curated holiday catalog-twinkling lights, a roaring fireplace, and, of course, an absurd number of gifts. Jayce sat cross-legged beside the tree, an excited grin lighting up his face as he handed you the first box. He had merely grinned, sheepish yet unrepentant. "What can I say? I got carried away?.”

"Open this one first," he urged, nearly vibrating with excitement. Inside was a bottle of an exquisite fragrance, the glass etched with delicate, swirling designs. It smelled divine-rich, warm, and entirely you.

"I figured you'd like that," he said eyes carefully watching everyone expression you make. You swear if he had a tail it would be swishing uncontrollably right now.

Christmas Day would be you spending Christmas day at his mother’s house!

(Listen I’m hc them as hispanic because for one HIS MOMS NAME HIS XIMENA… and two because why not :3 )

You have a great relationship with his Mother, she absolutely adores you and sees you as her daughter.

There’s lots of yummy food she’s prepared… perhaps too much for just 3 people?

Nonetheless, a pot of pozole, tamales de puerco and de dulce! And of course she made jayce’s favorite choco flan!

God she urges to to eat until you nearly pop! You have to undo your belt by the end of the night…

"Come, sit!" his mom insisted, pulling out a chair for you. "Jayce told me you've never had my tamales. That's a crime! Here, start with this." She placed one on your plate, her eyes twinkling.

Jayce sat beside you, his grin widening as you took your first bite. "Good, right?" he asked, nudging you playfully.

You could only nod, savoring the perfectly seasoned masa and tender filling.

Later in the evening, when everyone was too full to move, Jayce leaned over and slipped his hand into yours. His eyes were soft, his voice low as he said, "I'm glad you're here. This—" he gestured to the lively scene around you, "—feels perfect with you."

[messenger-of-babel]

Voicemails

Summary: When complications arise on his mission, all he has is one phone call back to you. (Death Island! Leon x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: It really does end here, huh? 🥹 This is the last post for this month. We have officially finished Angstober 2024. Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged, followed, and sent me things to my inbox. It's going to be weird not writing for you all every day, but you'll still see me around. I'm going to take a small break and write in the background, get through requests and stuff. I'm moving house and graduating at the same time so I might not post a whole lot till I'm settled again, but then you can count on me for more than angst!

General warnings for language use, spoilers for Death Island if you haven't seen it (you should it's quite funny), and a mildly OOC Leon but we can all be saps sometimes. Warping the events of the movie to my own benefit.

Enjoy our last post of this month, sweethearts~

RiRi xx

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"You wanna make a call?" Chris grunts, looking down at him. Leon looks up at him, vision blurry and pain radiating through his body. His neck stings from where the microdrone bit him, and he can no longer feel anything from his thighs down, just a numb tingle. He has to consciously remind himself to breathe, in through the nose and out through the mouth.

"You got- you got a way?" he rasps back, eyes scrunching in confusion. Chris nods, the bigger man bucking slightly against the cell wall he's leaning against.

"Left- left pocket." he grits out. "Claire got the signal through before we got bit. It's only strong enough for one call, then Dylan's framework will probably patch it."

Leon sighs, head hitting the rusted bars of Alcatraz. This had been another run of the mill mission, find the missing scientist selling government secrets, pack him up and ship him back to the government to be trialled at court. In the true fashion of his 'run of the mill missions', nothing went according to that plan and veered off into a clusterfuck as usual. The BSAA had been involved chasing their own leads, and he had run into Jill in the sewers running from zombies. the plague that seemed to follow him like a shadow ever since he left Raccoon as a young and very traumatised cop.

He was supposed to get in and out, wrap it up so he could come home to you like he promised. As he sat there writhing, he wondered what the look on your face would be if he wasn't able to make it to the cruise that you had both planned. You had lobbied both him and the DSO for a holiday, and after many angry letters and snatching the phone out of his hand to yell at his supervisor, you had succeeded in getting him two months off. Without hesitation you had booked the both of you on a cruise, shushing him every time he had tried to protest.

If he was being honest, just sleeping at home would have been enough. He could barely remember the last time that he had sat down or stopped for a moment. The days that he was at the office or on a mission blurred together so often that he was beginning to forget what colour you had both decided to paint the kitchen, making him falter when coworkers made small talk with him in the staff room. Which side of the bed you preferred to sleep on, what bills needed to be paid first, whether the spare bedroom was being turned into an office or a workshop or not. It was when his forgetfulness led him to forget what month it was and being blindsided to your own anniversary that he finally snapped out of it.

You had been sitting on the porch steps dressed in your finery, watery eyes looking up at him as he pulled into the driveway, your knees pulled to your chest. He had jumped from the car like you were shot, the realisation of what he had done thrumming hard in his chest. "I'm so sorry" he had murmured into your hair, holding you tight. "I am so so sorry."

You had just sniffled in response and eventually gave him a weak hug back, and he clung to that like a lifeline. He swore that he would never fuck up like that again, and he intended to keep that promise.

So, he had relented to the cruise vacation, telling himself that he would be able to relax and unwind on the seas and out of service of work. They could call another agent for once, he wanted to focus on nothing but the smile you wore as you got to carry out the couple things he felt he had denied you your entire relationship. Getting to use the swim up bar, taking photos together, dressing in matching clothes for the cheesy cruise quiz nights. If that was what you wanted, that is what he was going to give you. Besides, it gave him a chance to relish in you again.

You, who had cancelled the wedding of your dreams to get married at the courthouse with him when he got called away suddenly and you weren't sure if you would see him again. You had been married within hours with the rings he had picked and you in the finest you could find on such short notice. He had thought you looked stunning, even if the lighting was the harsh LED of the courthouse and not candles like you had wanted.

You, who had put up with months of him being gone, not knowing if he was dead or alive. Who had to stay up late tracking the news for crumbs of his whereabouts, only able to make guesses to where he might have been assigned. Every death, every bioterrorist attack overseas carrying the possibility that Leon's body was among those being pulled from the carnage.

You, who he was calling right now with the jacked cell phone from Chris's pocket, dial tone droning on.

Leon had been stung last, used as nothing more than an example to show off the latest weapon in the bioterror market. Yet he was losing feeling fast, much faster than Chris or even Claire struggling in the other cell. It was like his atoms were screaming at him, writhing in him at a molecular level. Breathing felt like it was through a damp cloth, lungs having to work twice as hard to suck oxygen into his lungs. His eyelids were struggling to stay awake and fight off the black curtains that floated in the corners. he could see the way that the others looked at him, with pity and with concern. As soon as he had caught the eye of Chris, saw the flicker of fear cross the usually confident man's face, he knew that he was reacting worse than all of them.

So here he was, heart in his throat as he prepared to tell you the words he hadn't been expecting to say when he left that morning. When the line doesn't pick up he curses, waiting for the tone. He wasn’t going to waste his chance.

"Hi! If I haven't picked up, I can't come to the phone right now. If you leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Please wait for the beep, thank you!"

He smiles to himself at the chipper tone of your voice, sounding heaven sent even through the phone. When he hears the tone he takes a deep breath, as big as he can and puts a fake smile on his face. He hopes that it makes his tone come out just a little sweeter for you, even though he knows that you'll be worried regardless.

"Hey, Sweetheart." he starts, voice raspy. "I'm sorry to be calling you like this. I just wanted to call to hear your voice. I-I missed you. I know you didn’t pick up, so you're probably busy. Now don't call me back immediately, I... won’t be able to pick up for a while. I just...damnit I wanted to just hear you." He grits out, head falling against the bars as he loses strength in his neck. He catches eyes with Chris, the older man's eyes misting over as he looks down at him before he turns his head away, the most privacy he can give him in the situation.

"I just wanted to call to let you know that I love you...and I miss you." he begins again. With his eyes closed the words come easier, the image of you flitting into his mind's eye. You look at him in his spectral vision with a smile, encouraging him to go on. He feels his chest ease, like he's actually talking to you, and the both of you are the only ones in the room. "I know you're going to worry. I know this doesn't sound good-" he grits his teeth against another hot flash of pain. "And... it’s not." he finishes. "I want to tell you…that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't think I'm gonna make it home tonight, baby. I... I might not make it back from this." he tries to chuckle, but the sound is dry, and the effort hurts his chest. "Things got bad here, and it's not looking good. I think- I think it ends here, honey. If I don't make it just...just, please look after yourself."

He takes a shaky breath, and the silence of everyone around him is deafening. The scene is oddly private and uncomfortable for the others in the vicinity, while the usually ever-energetic man known as Leon delivers his verbal will. "I know you won’t want to go, but go on that cruise. You worked hard for it, and you were so excited. I wanted to go swimming with you, fall asleep by the pool and pretend it was the honeymoon I owe you. So, I want you to still go on it. Even if I don't come back...I'll ask the big man above to let me hang around long enough to do it with you, even if you won't be able to see me. I made a promise remember? No more missing big things." he whispers into the phone.

His throat is beginning to hurt, like speaking around a sharp lump every time he formed a word. "And the house is yours, it should go into your name. The car, everything, you'll have it all. I just...I just wish it could have been different, you know?" he says into the receiver, that has begun to waver by his cheek. "But it is what it is, and I guess it finally caught up to me. I'm sorry I was such a shitty husband." he says, a light tremor in his voice. "I wish I had come home to you more, not left the bed cold. I wish I could have made you more dinners and more breakfasts in bed, just to show you how much I loved you. I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I never told it to you enough, or managed to even put into actions just how much you mean to me, but I do. You mean everything, sweetheart." he chokes into the phone, a small smile on his face. "I love you more than anything, so...so don't think anything else, okay? This isn't your fault. It never was. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, you hear me? So you pick yourself up when I'm gone," he gasps out, hand beginning to waver. "You put yourself back in that saddle, and you show the world just how strong you are. Show them the person I fell in love with." he says with a smile, before breaking into a fit of painful coughs.

"Don't stay up, sweetheart. Get to bed early. I miss you, more than you'll ever know." he coughs out into the receiver before his body can't hold him up anymore and he slides down the bars until his cheek is pressing into the concrete, hand falling to his side and phone clattering against the stone. He can hear the tone end, and the automated whoosh sound as the voicemail sends. With bleary eyes he can make out the turned head of Claire, looking down at him with wobbling lips and tear-filled eyes.

"Look after 'em, hey?" he rasps out, pain in his chest stabbing as the black curtains begin to slide across his vision. Claire nods, and he can hear Chris grunt in the background. Leon falls into an unconsciousness shortly after, the smiling image of you the last thing he holds close to him as the blackness swallows him completely. As his body stills, a small smile is frozen on his face, the arrogant half tilted smirk he so loved to give you.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Typing away at your computer, you work till your eyes go square from the computer screen. You wipe a hand over your face as you review the spreadsheet that you're working on, leaning back to take a sip of your coffee. Your music blasts in your headphones, and for a quick break you pull up the checklist you've made for your upcoming holiday.

You're so engrossed in your work that you're unaware as your phone screen glows to life beside you, message popping across your notification bar.

You have (1) new voicemails.

[penkura]

OP Men as Dads Part 3

Note: Part 3, Part 3!! I was asked by someone on AO3 to add Luffy, so I did that! I still view Luffy more as a brother or son, so I still don't expect to write anything romantic for him, but this I can do! I hope you all enjoy!

Franky probably didn’t even think he’d ever get the chance to have kids, not after the train accident you know, but he’s excited for it! You’d have two boys around three to four years apart that are just like Franky in every way, but the older would be a bit more shy than the younger. They’ll both spend a lot of time with Franky in his workshop when they get old enough, they’ve got a knack for shipwright work and it almost brings a tear to Franky’s eye to see them sketching their own ship designs on whatever scraps of paper they can find. Your boys love you too of course! The two will bring their drawings to show you and ask your opinion, you have to tell them everything on your mind or they won’t go back to drawing, mama’s thoughts matter! It becomes family time to go over the sketches your boys made during the day, they want to do you and Franky proud in everything, but nothing they do could ever make you love them less.

~~

Katakuri has planned to have kids for a while, even though he’s already 48, he still wants to have a few and be a father to them. He’ll raise them differently from how he was raised, but still love them dearly and want only the best for them! You’ll both be surprised when you only have one first, a little girl who has Katakuri wrapped around her finger as soon as she’s born and handed to him. She’s so tiny, he’d be content to have just her if she’s all you were blessed with. Fast forward five years and there’s a set of wailing triplets that you also didn’t expect to have, but the three boys are more than you ever could’ve asked for and their big sister loves them just as quickly. She begs to see them as soon as their born, Katakuri brings her by that day to see you and them, and she has to gold all three in a row immediately. After that, a set of twin girls comes along a few years later, your oldest isn’t the only girl anymore and she’s still just as happy to have new siblings at around ten-years-old, your five-year-old set of triplets also excited. Katakuri loves and thanks you so much for the family you’ve made with him, even if you tell him your twin girls are it, you’re done. He's happy with what you have, grateful for your love and children.

~~

Killer is absolutely a great dad, you couldn’t have asked for anyone better to be your partner and father to your children. You have a boy first off, with your eyes and blond hair, he wants to be just like his dad when he grows up! A couple years later comes a little girl, she’s a surprise but a pleasant one at that. You didn’t really expect her to have Killer wrapped around her finger in a heartbeat but the second he saw her it was over, he became wholly devoted to your little girl and making sure she was happy as could be. You’ve come back to your family multiple times seeing Killer either having a tea party with your daughter or playing some make believe game with both your children, he normally plays the damsel in distress for their enjoyment. Your kids can see people act oddly around Killer when they recognize him, but neither of them care to know why, they’re still quite young, and they only care that they’re dad loves and takes care of them alongside you. All that matters to them is that Killer is around to play with them and eventually start teaching them to protect themselves.

~~

Luffy would be the fun dad, no doubt in my mind! Like how Ace would have three daughters, I can see Luffy having three sons! Probably twins at first, then another son a couple years later, the three having the same dynamic that he had with Sabo and Ace when they were kids! They’d all look like Luffy, except your middle child would have your eyes, a small piece that shows yes, you’re the mother to these three rugrats. All three dream of being pirates, its their favorite game to plan, especially so since their dad is King of the Pirates. After all, who better to tell you how the pirate life works than him?? With all of the Straw Hats around, your sons would be protect from the moment they hear you’re pregnant, everyone being the best aunts and uncles around as soon as they’re born. Luffy would be the most protective of course, but he’d still give your sons the freedom to do what they want and to grow and learn how the world works. Being a pirate is about freedom, isn’t it? Your sons will never have to wonder if they’re loved or wanted, everything you and Luffy do is for them.

~~

I honestly see Mihawk with one child, a daughter. She’d be an unexpected blessing that has him around her tiny finger the moment she takes her first breath. He’d never let her, or you of course, out of his sight, unless he absolutely had to go to a Warlord meeting or something like that. When Zoro and Perona show up, they’re both flabbergasted that the Dracule Mihawk has a child, and that she’s a cute baby girl, only a few months old! Perona will try to dress her up in frilly dresses but your daughter will cry, which ends with Mihawk taking her back and demanding Perona stop using his daughter like a dress up doll. The funny thing is, your daughter will be absolutely enthralled with Zoro, she’ll fuss until he holds her, sometimes he’s the only one who can get her down for a nap or to sleep at night. The number of times Mihawk has caught Zoro training with your daughter strapped to his back or the two napping together warms his heart, maybe having the two freeloaders around isn’t so bad.

~~

Sabo never thought too much about having kids. It was a nice idea, but he didn’t have any strong opinions about it. Then of course, you showed up and he started to have dreamy ideas of his own family and children with you as the mother. Your first is a little girl, blonde as her dad and just as rambunctious. She’ll chase down everyone that she can’t to play with her and grab their attention for whatever story she’s made up, Sabo especially listens intently to her, giving her a smile, asking questions, and responding to everything she says positively. After your daughter comes two boys, one after the other just a couple years apart, and both times Sabo can’t believe he’s so lucky to have you and your children. Your sons look more like you, though your youngest has Sabo’s hair just like your daughter. He’s more shy than either of his siblings, but with Sabo he’s more open and talkative. Your first son may be the middle child, but he’s also the one who becomes more interested in the Revolutionary Army’s work. Although Sabo knows that all of them may become interested one day, wanting to join, he hopes that their work can be completed first and your children will be able to love safe, comfortable lives as they grow up.

[tinkerbellknockoff]

beautiful blue hair // jinx x fem! reader

jinx eased quickly into her new life at demacia, deciding to do something for the first time in her life- see a hair stylist.

-- a/n: had this idea after staring at s2ep9 jinx and realizing that haircut would probably grow out terribly. this was written at 3am, enjoy!

jinx found being at demacia good enough. it was a very different culture than the life in zaun that she was used to, but arguably, she thought that was great for her. she was free to be herself, with no repercussion because here- she had no weight of the past weighing her down.

the only thing? she mildly regretted the haircut of choice that ekko had given her. during her crisis back in zaun, ekko had came to her side- he helped her. and, even with jinx's hyperindependency, she knew she had bits to thank him for.

looking in the mirror, seeing the comically long bang hanging in front of her face compared to her bob length hair, she figured this was the one thing she wasn't going to thank him for.

it looked great when it was first cut, though, which was a bonus.

but jinx's hair grew freakishly fast. weekly in her workshop she'd give herself little trims to tame her hair. unfortunately for her, she grabbed a whole lot of things while packing her bag- one thing she didn't?

scissors.

jinx let out an annoyed huff, "oh, c'mon! seriously? out of all things?"

she spoke to herself, the walls echoing back nothing but the sound of her own voice. jinx's hands continued to brush through her hair, looking at the chopped layers in mild distaste. she had never been one to ever care about her appearance but for some reason, this peeved her. real bad.

during her examining, her eyes caught a glimpse of something. during her time walking and exploring demacia, she was given scattered flyers, business owners wanting to promote their stores. she chose not to throw them away, believing that since she was making a new life for herself, she might try to get out more. normally. without explosives, even though she'll find it significantly less entertaining.

"daffodil's," jinx muttered, the name slipping off her tongue as she picked up the flyer from the pile. she hummed in interest, eyeing the design, promoting a small salon that had recently opened.

jinx scanned it over one last time before sighing to herself, "... why not?"

☆☆

jinx slowly pulled open the door of the tiny salon. it was in the downtown area, tucked into a less busy area. she liked that a lot.

she was greeted with a soft smell of sandalwood, the sound of the heater in the building slightly humming, giving a background to the idle chattering of the few people that were inside.

a girl, possibly around jinx's age, sat at the front desk. the desk was a little bit to the side of the entrance, the person sitting there catching a glimpse of whoever entered first. but, the girl was too preoccupied.

the girl sat comfortably on a chair, slightly reclined back as she calmly chewed gum, occasionally popping a small bubble. her feet were elevated, resting on the desk, a magazine in her hands as she loosely flipped through the page.

jinx's eyes scanned her over, biting her lip almost nervously. why hadn't she just decided to go out and buy a damn pair of scissors? would've been much less work. she walked up to the front desk, her boots clanking against the floor in a rhythmic, melodic kind of way. this caught the girl's attention, causing her to look up from the magazine, her chewing stopping for a second.

as jinx finally got up to the counter, the girl adjusted, sitting upright and giving the blue-haired girl a grin. she tilted her head, her (h/c) hair tumbling to the side as she looks at jinx.

"hi there! how can i help ya? do you have an appointment?"

the girl's relaxed, bubbly demeanor was almost nauseating to jinx. she never once dealt with someone so... she doesn't even know. she took a deep breath in, calming her nerves she didn't realize existed, giving the girl a grin in return.

"hi! i was wondering if you could do... erm..." jinx's voice trailed off for a moment. she doesn't know terminology. an appointment? is that the word? no, those are in advance-

her thoughts stopped yelling at her as the girl gave jinx a soft smile. "we do walk-ins. you looking for a new do?"

the girl giggled at her own terminology, moving the chair back to stand up. jinx nodded, "yup, one of those."

"great. i'm free to take you back," the girl beckoned jinx with her hand, leading her to the furthest chair in the corner, patting the seat as she grabs an apron from the side. "what can i do for ya?"

jinx slipped into the chair. it was so comfortable to her, it almost felt foreign. it was wood but it was lightly cushioned, and had a slight modern feel. jinx's reflection greeted her, one that she only recently got used to with having a new unbroken mirror.

jinx cleared her throat, "just.. wanting it fixed. or whatever."

the girl lightly ran a finger through jinx's hair, bringing it up to assess the layers in her hair. jinx slightly tensed at the new touch, but didn't let it alarm her too much.

"at home hairdo, huh?" the girl spoke humorously, meeting jinx's gaze in the mirror. jinx huffed, refraining from giving the girl a glare. she didn't want to be made fun of for her decisions, and before she could make a retort, the girl started speaking again, "i get it. once i accidentally cut my hair up to my ears- wait i shouldn't be telling you that."

the girl cut herself off, and that got a laugh from jinx, giving you a lopsided grin in the mirror, "don't tell me that when you're gonna be chopping at my hair, toots."

the girl gave a sheepish shrug, before asking, "anything in particular in mind?"

jinx pursed her lips for a moment. did she? no. "just... whatever you want, yeah?"

the girl rose her eyebrows, "trusting a complete stranger with ya looks? bold. i dig it."

jinx found the girl funny. jinx watched the girl begin to even out the layers in her hair, chopping her hair to a length just right underneath her chin. jinx liked it so far.

eventually, the girl came around to the front, bending slightly to meet jinx's height as she grabbed at the long strand of hair, evening it out as she chopped a pair of bangs on jinx. the position got jinx to awkwardly clear her throat, looking away.

even with the avoidance, the girl started speaking up, "ya know, people say that hair holds memories."

jinx didn't know that.

"so what was so special about this one piece of hair?" the girl grinned in a playful manner, and jinxed watched the long strands fall onto her lap. she looked in the mirror and there were a pair of bangs just falling right above her eyebrows, nicely blending in with the rest of her hair.

"aren't you nosey?" jinx quips back, though without malice. jinx thought this girl was nice, even without knowing her for that long at all. and, seeing her new hair, she couldn't but have some approval.

"just makin' conversation, yeah?" the girl giggled. "let's get you washed?"

jinx hadn't realize how long it'd been since she washed her hair.

feeling the girl's hands and manicured nails shampoo at her scalp was almost a moan worthy, toe curling experience as the girl didn't speak, but only chewed on the piece of gum that had been in her mouth. she could tell jinx was enjoying it, but she didn't judge. I mean... who doesn't like getting their hair shampooed?

time passed quickly as eventually jinx ended up back in the salon chair, the girl eventually wrapping up blowing out jinx's hair, leaving her hair straight and soft, the heat nice against jinx's neck.

jinx couldn't believe who she saw in the mirror. this is what she needed. what she wanted. when she saw herself in the mirror, she didn't think "jinx" or "powder". she just felt.. like herself.

the girl eyed her expression in the mirror, giving a soft grin, "ya like it?"

jinx stopped admiring herself for one moment as she met your gaze in the mirror, nodding vigorously, giving you a grin, "love it, toots."

she paused for a moment, "what's your name?"

the girl tilted her head, telling jinx her name, "recommend me to your friends, yeah?"

jinx repeated your name, letting your name roll off her tongue. she wasn't going to let you know that she has no friends, but she gave you a grin, "definitely."

jinx became a regular after that.

[yierrem]

lighter x ftm!reader

notes: its my first time writing something substantial/with a bit of plot (ㆀ˘･з･˘) i hope it isn’t too disappointing…

warnings: non-sexual nudity, mentions of scars, some creative liberties taken for descriptions of blazewood (i havent reached ch4 yet… im getting there..), copious amounts of pining (from lighter) and obliviousness (from reader) can be read as gn!reader due to no heavily gendered terms :D

when lighter asked you to accompany him on one of his supply runs to the city, you thought ‘why not’ and agreed. you needed a few things for the workshop yourself and you’d never turn down an opportunity to spend some time with any of your fellow members. it was like hitting two birds with one stone.

the ride to new eridu was rather refreshing despite the overcast skies (lighter was on the verge of self-combustion feeling your arms wrapped around his waist from behind). after arriving in lumina square, everything goes smoothly: it takes both of you less than an hour to procure the things you needed (mostly daily necessities, requests from the girls, and materials you needed for repairs), but its on the drive back where everything starts to go wrong...

a few drops of water falling onto the visor of your helmet (courtesy of lighter) was no big deal until they started to fall in a continuous drizzle. both of you realized you probably should’ve checked the forecast before leaving when the rain picked up, battering heavily on both your shoulders.

it would be suffice to say that the pair arrived at the doorstep of the sons’ shared quarters in the lower levels looking like sopping wet cats. when lucy opened the door to you, it was with an earful of nagging while piper sat on the sofa to the side with an amused, sleepy grin. ‘at least the supplies aren’t damaged..?’ ‘you’re shivering, techie.’

when both of you have ensured that most of your purchases were intact and not waterlogged, you headed to your shared room to freshen up; wet socks are never pleasant, after all.

lighter takes off his sunglasses first, swiftly wiping off any spare moisture before placing it on his bedside table. he peels off his gloves and jacket next, wincing at the droplets that rolled off the garments to the floor, and draped them over a chair as he pulled his scarf off.

he looks over to you to ask of your condition when he sees your hands moving to lift the hem of your sodden shirt and he freezes. a flash of your stomach and the question dies on the tip of his tongue. he quickly glances away, probably giving himself whiplash.

this didn’t escape your notice, either, as you pause to snort in amusement, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil you were causing him.

“a peek won’t kill you, lorenz,” you tease, finally pulling the drenched shirt off your body. “i’ve seen you shirtless countless times before.”

lighter mutters something in reply, his back still resolutely turned to you to give some semblance of privacy while you changed. if his hair was just a bit shorter, the red flush of his ears would’ve been visible.

“…just dry yourself off,” he settles on saying.

even when he wasn’t looking at you, it was as if every single one of lighter’s senses were heightened as long you were in proximity. every rustle of your clothes and every breath he took seemed ten times louder and his heart seemed like it was beating audibly enough for you to hear.

“i’ll head to the showers first, then, if you aren’t done yet.”

he turns to look with the intent to reply something in acknowledgement for the sake of appearing unaffected, but then he just stops. and stares (he swears he didn’t mean to) at the sight of your shirtless body.

while you weren’t nearly as scarred or built as the champion himself, you possessed an assortment of blemishes accumulated over the years you’ve lived as a mechanic for the sons of calydon. there are burns on your arms that have healed into tender skin, and you’re sure there’s a sizeable scar somewhere on your left leg from falling off a bike once (which was most likely when big daddy realized you were better off fixing rather than riding them. you still laugh at that, sometimes). light bruises and scratches are littered across your upper body from always bumping into machinery and they accompanied the two horizontal lines of damaged tissue on either sides of your chest.

would you let him place his lips over them the way he dreams how you’d kiss all of his? maybe exchange stories about them, too, as you lay in each other’s embrace in the night’s silence. he wants to memorize the expanse of your body, if you’d allow him. to gently run his fingers over your shoulders, waist, and back, and cup your face in his palm as you both lean closer and—-

“lighter?”

his thoughts come to a screeching halt. when he meets your gaze, he clears his throat, shifting his eyes to some vague corner in the room.

“um. you were saying something?”

“…i said i was gonna head to the showers first.”

showering with you might be nice. your fingers gently massaging shampoo into his scalp after a long day…

“right. yeah. you can go do that.” he feels like his face could rival the red of his scarf. he hopes you can���t see it in the dim lighting as he turns away once more, busying himself with wringing out the water from said scarf into a spare bucket.

you stand there in bemusement, staring at his back for a few (excruciating) seconds before shrugging and muttering a quiet ‘mn.’ then you finally, finally, step out into the corridor down to the communal showers, the door closing behind you with a click.

once he was sure you were gone, lighter stops nervously fidgeting with the red cloth. he buries his face in his palms with a groan, trying to will away the violent drumming of his heart against his chest.

he’s seen so many people with their upper body laid bare before, both in and out of the ring he used to fight for his life in, so he was practically immune to any sort of shame when it came to certain forms of nudity. hell, he even partook in it sometimes on particularly hot days, choosing to go shirtless over wearing his usual getup.

but the fact that he’s reduced to some blushing schoolboy at the sight of your skin baffles him. he was aware he started to harbor some affection towards you at some point, but he wasn’t prepared for the absolute rollercoaster of emotions that came with it and you.

…he needed to do something about these feelings soon. not now, but maybe later, lighter. he thought.

‘some champion i am..’

[hells-wasabii]

Hi could you pretty please do velvette x reader who is Carmilla youngest daughter and how her family reacts (plus zestial pls I ship him and Carmilla so I feel like he's a step dad)❤️

A/N: I blacked out and wrote this.... but yeeees LISTEN!! I love Velvette so much, its not even funny and i had a lot of fun with this prompt! I didn't realize how much i wrote for it until it was too late, and by that point, i really couldn't stop. but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! ps i honestly ship them too

Part 1 | Part 2

Character: Velvette

Type: Headcanons + Drabble (Velvette x reader who's Carmilla's youngest daughter, General with a bit of Angst and Fluff sprinkled in)

For Velvette, she actually entered into the relationship not really knowing who your parents were. You never brought it up and she never really asked. It didn't really matter to her, since, ya know, you're the one she's dating, not your mum and dad, or step-dad from what you've mentioned.

Honestly, she should've seen the similarities. They were there for sure, but let's face it, there are so many demons in hell that it was probably just a coincidence, right?

Carmilla also knew you were seeing someone as well, though she really figured that you would bring this special demon around when you were ready.

Oh, they were both wrong. So very wrong.

They found out simultaneously, of course, as cliche as it was. You were on an evening out with Velvette with no clear destination in mind, just simply enjoying the evening and each other's company when the next thing you knew you were face to face with your mother.

It... didn't go too well.

What had once been a peaceful evening nearly dissolved into a turf war all in an instant. If you hadn't been able to separate the two with a promise to talk to both separately later there was no doubt that everything in a three-block radius would be collateral.

Zestial and your sisters would find out soon thereafter, Carmilla of course telling them when they see her come home looking quite distraught.

As stated before, to Velvette, it really didn't matter. though it did sweeten the deal. It would give her plenty more opportunities for her to provoke the arms dealer, something that she already took a great deal of pleasure in.

Zestial would be skeptical of the relationship at the start but eventually comes to accept it fully. His patience won out this time. He's seen more than enough relationships like this go up in flames and he'd never want that for you. He considered you a daughter after all.

As for your sisters, both of them were simply happy that you were happy. They were more worried about how y'alls mom would react. And you can't tell me that they didn't already know, either.

Carmilla on the other hand... To her, family is everything. I mean, she killed an angel for you and your sisters. She'd do anything for her kids, and that includes keeping someone like that upstart from breaking your heart. She wholeheartedly believed that Velvette was only dating you to get one over on her. It really comes as no surprise when she goes all the way to Vee Tower to confront the youngest overlord herself.

"You need to stay away from my daughter."

The fashionista bit out a curse as a needle pricked her finger. Velvette doesn't usually startle easily, but shit, between her being completely focused on finishing and the fact that her workshop had previously been silent save for any sounds that she had been making herself, she thought that even the most stone-cold bitch would've jumped.

What good was the security for if those nitwits couldn't keep unauthorized demons out of her workshop? The influencer swore that if any blood got on the material for this dress she'd personally kill the guards and whoever-

Oh.

Of all the people she expected to see, Carmilla Carmine, the uptight weapons dealer, and apparent mum of her girlfriend, was not one of them. Or actually, scratch that. She was completely expecting this to happen sooner or later.

"Well, it sucks to suck then, wrinkles, I'm not going nowhere." The fashionista bit back, a smirk settling on her lips that quickly fell when the older woman tried to push her point.

"I know what you're trying to do and it-"

"Obviously you don't." All mischief gone from her tone, Velvette set her work to the side, careful not to crumple the fabric. She rose to her feet and began to cross the room to Carmilla, who in turn stood taller, determined not to let this miscreant make a mockery of her, her family, and most importantly her youngest daughter. "I hate to break it to you, but the only way I'll break it off is if SHE wants to."

Velvette paused, her eyes boring into Carmilla's with a conviction and passion that the arms dealer hadn't felt from the influencer before. When the younger woman spoke again, her voice was softer than before, laced with a sincerity that would leave the mother speechless.

"I love her."

Its this singular interaction that leads to a truce between the two (technically five if you include Zestial and the Vee's) Overlords. They would come to some sort of mutual understanding that if both of them were to be in your life, they'd have to play nice. At least in front of you. At Overlord meetings, well, that's a whole different story.

[feralrabidcrow]

I remade the silly TF2 base that lives inside my head in The Sims 4 for the 3rd time

And this time I'm actually happy with it!

Behold, the base that I use for a reference for when I write fanfiction! Photo spam incoming under the cut as well as me yapping.......

Some basic exterior shots, in short this is the main home base that the mercenaries all live in when they aren't currently deployed at a battlefield, ex. 2Fort or Badwater. Those battlefields all have much smaller bases attached or nearby for the mercenaries to temporarily reside in while they're in between trying to kill BLU.

This is the floorplan of the basement, with its primary features being the medbay, the workshop, the laundry room, and two sleeping quarters, which belong to Medic and Heavy.

The hallway outside of the medbay has a waiting area set up. There is an elevator that travels between the medbay and the garage for convenience.

It's worth noting that I am working here within the confines of The Sims 4, and can only do so much to achieve my actual visions of this base. Where the skeleton is, would be a scale of the type you would usually see in a doctor's office (Medic prefers to keep his skeletons in the closet, you see.) And the weird set-up of counters in the middle of the room would be a proper operating table, with his Medigun attached to the ceiling above it, among other strange contraptions.

The medbay has this little side room, that Medic mainly uses for storage. Though it works well as a quarantine room, if the need arises.

Closet Skeleton™!!!

Here we have Engie's workshop, which looks as you would probably expect.

Here we have some utility areas in the basement, consisting of the laundry room, a basement-y maintenance furnace type room, and a washroom.

I would rather keep all the mercenaries' bedrooms together, so I'm gonna skip Heavy and Medic's sleeping quarters for now and head up to the next floor!

This is the main floor of the base, where most of the action happens. It features the garage, meeting room, training gym, showers, a large washroom with multiple toilet stalls, a kitchen and dining area, a small living room, and four sleeping quarters, belonging to Demoman, Soldier, Engineer, and Pyro.

The garage is a bit of a mess, and its most noteworthy feature is the armory, where the mercenaries keep most of their gear during time off. Though clearly not all of them care about the danger of tripping hazards.

There's not much to say about the gym and meeting room, at least in this physical version. Once again, I am held back by the game I built this in. In reality, the meeting room would have a large round table, more centered in the room, and the gym would just generally have more going on for it, but I tried my best to capture what purpose they served.

You'll really have to use your imagination on this one and believe those weird pipes are showers, because I don't own any packs with standalone showers. Anyways, these are the communal showers, where you get to experience the joy of pretending you're in prison and staring at your coworker's butts!

I have a feeling Tumblr won't let me share all the bedrooms in this already ridiculously long post, so I'll probably have to attach them in a reblog. If Tumblr doesn't let me do even that, I guess I'll die? I sure hope it does! I do not know how Tumblr works.

But here's a little peek at some of the sleeping quarters......as well as the floorplan for the top floor even though it's basically all personal quarters. Sniper's, Spy's, and Scout's, to be exact.

[gyuswhore]

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) [teaser]

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

READ FULL FIC HERE!

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (none in teaser) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT: est. 25k

WORD COUNT [teaser]: ~820

RELEASE DATE: est. october 2nd 2023

!PLEASE SEND AN ASK TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST (ageless blogs WILL NOT BE ADDED)!

masterlist

WARNINGS [!is subject to change upon publishing of the full fic!]: slowburn, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, (smut tags in the full fic)

[A/N]: I worked rlly hard on the banner pls look at it ‼️ enjoy hehe also this is probably gonna be way more than 25k but I supposed its better than overshooting

teaser under the cut!

It’s a black sedan that rolls up next to you, slower than what’s considered a normal speed on an empty street. It honks and you nearly halt, owing to the shake that passes through your knees. It honks again, and you can’t help but look to the side to find a window rolled down. 

Mingyu sits on the driver’s seat, leaning over to the empty passenger side to grab your attention. 

“The Uber’s free! So is the driver,” he yells out the window. “Hop in.”

“I’m alright. I kinda wanna walk.” You shift your weight between your feet, the distance adding an awkward feel. 

“Wasn’t asking. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not letting you walk alone.” As he speaks, another car passes from behind him, slowing down. You note the look the other driver is giving you through the window, and it’s enough to convince you to step into Mingyu’s car. 

“I think we’re way past the point of formalities, don’t know why you hesitated.” He chuckles as he motions for you to click on your seatbelt. You fumble with it for a moment, his own fingers coming to the rescue to latch it on. You retract your fingers before they can brush with his own any further. 

Settling into your seat, you choose to look forward as he picks up speed. “Uhm, just wanted to walk, it was nice outside.”

“Take someone with you next time, it’s nearly midnight,” he warns. 

There’s a twinge of annoyance that emerges in the back of your mind for some reason, despite knowing full well that he was right. You just didn’t want to hear it from him.

It’s silent for a bit as the radio plays an uncharacteristically upbeat tune, prompting you to wonder if it was just you who felt the atmosphere pressing in on your chest.

“Did you not bring your car today?” he asks out of the blue, eyes remaining on the road as you glance up at him. One look at his side profile and you’re turning your gaze away.

“No, it’s at the workshop. I came with Nayeon.” 

“Why didn’t you leave with her?”

“I…” You pause. “I told her I was gonna go with Seok.”

“Hm. That didn’t happen.”

“It’s like I said,” you mumble.

He hums again in response, dropping the subject.

“Listen, are you…are you okay?” he starts again and it has you looking back up at him. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You try to hide the bitterness in your tone but it proves difficult.

“I couldn’t help but overhear but I was sitting right there. Hao was talking to Mika about something she’d said to you, about…” He trails off. “I mean, you looked a little upset, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You bit your tongue. Hard. 

He knew you were staring at him, he knew you weren’t over him. He knew you were still standing on the same square confinement from months ago. Never changed. 

“I’m fine,” you reply, snappier than you had intended. 

“Are you sure? I felt like I should’ve said something but Nayeon was right there so I thought…” He sounds unsure and when you see him look at you, with eyes filled with an emotion that makes you nearly gag, you almost lose it. You did not want him to pity you. Nor care for you; especially when it came from a place that nullifies your feelings. You didn’t want him to care for you for the sole reason that you were his best friend’s sister. 

“Mingyu, I think it’s best if you drop it.”

“Of course. But it might help if you wanna, you know, feel your feelings.” 

Fuck no, you weren’t crying in front of him. Not when you're sure he’s noticed the tear stains on your makeup.

“Mingyu, I said drop it. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to feel anything, I need you stop feeling like you’re obligated to care about me because you’re not.” The words come tumbling out before you can stop them, irritation laced in every snap and dent.

He says your name in an attempt to smooth you over. It only lands him in more trouble.

“No, listen, I get it. You’re uncomfortable about everything but you feel like you need to check up on me at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. What happened, happened, and it’s my job to pick up the pieces because it’s my fault. You don’t need to meddle.” You’re breathing hard as you finish, finally settling back in your seat. 

He’s already pulling up to your building, heat still penetrating the silence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, mumbling a thanks for the ride. 

“Seok’s staying at Cheol’s tonight,” he calls out as you shuffle out the door. “Remember to lock the door.” 

You stand sheepishly holding the open door as you nod quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the shoot.”

[drvoos]

can you please do Bruce Wayne x reader where the reader has a bad day or something happens to where he comforts them? thank you !!

(meant for pattinsons bruce)

gotham was known for its busy and crowded streets. people from all over would flood the side walks as they bustled from one place to another. while this isn’t normally a problem for you — today was the exception.

it had started when you woke up ten minutes late for work. while your boss wouldn’t necessarily kill you for it, the disappointment was still there from your failure to wake up on time. just the idea made you want to cry as you got ready for the day.

then the bus you always rode broke down. alfred has offered multiple times to drive you to your work place, yet you turned him down everytime. it was a decent drive from your place to wayne manor and that poor guy already had enough on his plate being the butler of bruce wayne.

when you had eventually shown up to your job you were immediately thrown into a whirlpool of work. being apart of gothams biggest crime unit usually merited tons and tons of work, whether that being on paper or in the field. this day however — thank god — included only writing thousands and thousands of reports. at least it wasn’t visiting a homicide for the fifth time of the week.

the giant fixture of wayne manor stared down at your car from up above, a reminder that you were almost done. almost home and safe in the arms of the man who was your shield. the tunnel leading into bruce’s workshop was long and dark, your cars growls bouncing off of the walls. he knew you were here before you even pulled into the main garage. putting your car in park you smiled. there bruce was, hunched over his workbench watching whatever tape he had gotten from his contacts.

“so, how was it?” your tired voice asked, gently shutting your car door as you figured he had a headache. he didn’t answer you at first, focused on rewinding the tape to review a clip of him analyzing evidence.

“quiet.” you hummed, finally reaching his side. that was when bruce finally got a good look at you. you probably looked a mess. tired, sunken eyes squinting at the bright light of his monitor. hair tousled and a bit greasy from how often you nervously were playing with your hair. he reached out, tucking a piece behind your ear and out of your face. sighing you turned to him with a smile.

“let’s go upstairs. i just want to lay down for a bit.” bruce didn’t answer you, instead taking your face in both of his hands. you knew then that all of your worry’s were going to be gone.

(this is really rushed i’m sorry lol)

[lissomelace]

THE EUROPA CLIPPER LAUNCHED THIS MORNING, AND I AM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT IT!!!!!

Space is so fucking awesome. We're headed to one of JUPITER'S MOONS!

Every time a launch happens, it makes the latent space enthusiast in the back of my brain jump up and down. It also derailed all my plans for today. I did have plans.

Instead, someone made one comment about how I could now maybe make mission patches on my embroidery machine, and the space thing crossed over with my current hyperfixation (silm) to produce THIS:

Mission patch for the launch of Gil-Estel! A bit messy, but a good place to start!

Design and linguistics details under the cut, because I put WAY too much thought into it and now must talk SOMEONE's ear off about it. Feel free to ignore this bit:

So, to start: Elvish NASA. I chose to call them Vardildi Elengolmo Vilciryamoyë, or VEV. The Followers of Varda, Astronomers and Astronauts. This could very much be totally wrong. Vardildi is Varda+the suffix used in Yavannildi, the followers of Yavanna. Elengolmo comes from the coined word for astronomer, Elengolmë (star-lore), with the -o suffix from nolmo, wise person. Vilciryamoyë takes the vil- from the root of vilya, meaning air, sky. ciryamo is mariner, and yë is the suffix added to the second word meaning 'and'. (I may be very, VERY wrong on this! If anyone has better ideas, I very much welcome input/guidance/constructive criticism)

So I stuck the tengwar for this on either side of the patch. (None of the tengwar is all that legible, though, I'm working on getting that sorted out) Most NASA mission patches don't actually have NASA on them, but I put it on anyway. Here is the tengwar and the start of a logo I made an attempt at (the tehta is supposed to be a shooting star, but that did NOT come through clearly in the embroidery [because it's tiny]):

(Probably going to try to make an elvish NASA patch before too long, honestly)

Most NASA patches (from research I did with great self-restraint here) have the (last) names of the astronauts. Not sure if they also have the name of the craft or if that's generally somewhere else, but I put both--Eärendil Ardamírë (his fathername and mothername) are the tengwar at the bottom of the patch, and Vingilotë is written on the keel of the ship. None of these are legible because they are small, and my machine has limits. It's a work in progress. Also I apologize for the bad lighting in the photo.

NASA patches sometimes also have a mission motto. That's the tengwar across the top of the patch here-- aiya Eärendil elenion ancalima, Hail Eärendil, brightest of stars (a common cry among elves and Frodo [when facing Shelob]).

(I half wanted to do something a bit more funny--maybe something like 'Now I have become Venus,' or 'Do I get to come down?' but this was a bit easier since it comes pre-translated into Quenya and tengwar, and also I have no faith in my Quenya translations that are any longer than a word)

The horizon is flat because Númenor exists, in the middle there between the shore of Middle-Earth and a teensy bit of Valinor and the Enchanted Isles.

The design for the Silmaril is sort of taken from the heraldic device Tolkien designed for the Silmarilli (though it isn't clear), and it is rayed with the six-pointed star from Eärendil's device. (I stuck the moon phases from the same source around the edges as well)

This was really fun, even if it might be the silliest thing I've ever made! It definitely needs some workshopping--i don't mind the black lines framing some sections from the background fabric, but I might try turning all the tengwar into lines of stitches instead-the satin columns really are illegible.

I now need to restrain myself from doing some sort of NASA/Astronaut Earendil AU, because it now sounds kind of fun (I do not have the background knowledge for this)

Sources:

NASA patches here: https://www.shopnasa.com/collections/patches

Quenya translations here: https://www.elfdict.com/

Tengwar transcriptions here: https://www.tecendil.com/

And if you want info on the Europa Clipper mission, here: https://science.nasa.gov/mission/europa-clipper

Embroidery digitization done with Embrilliance Stitchartist 1, embroidery done with a Brother SE630 machine. Thread is Brothread Cotton and YLI cotton bobbin thread, with a little sulky rayon on the Silmaril. Cloth is a black linen from Fabric Wholesale Direct.

[theduckeminence]

I can’t stop thinking about Eddie Dear y’all.

First off, the probable reason behind what had occurred to him is most likely due to him being scrapped/taken off the script of the show is just both saddening and dreadful on his part. Like he exists within the realm of the Neighborhood, but considering his absence throughout the recent update, aside from him giving the viewers a decoder + clips of him throughout the Home-warming ad compilation, its safe to say that Playfellow Workshop had most likely taken off him of the show, or at the very least, lessening the amount of screen time he receive (in this case being the ads/commercials).

And now onto the actual possible reason why Eddie Dear would be taken off script. Now thinking back to the fact that Eddie & Frank being a couple is canon, it’s also safe to say that because of their connection in the show ��� even though Playfellow Workshop attempts to have them be distant or lack any sort of significant interaction onscreen — Eddie & Frank’s relationship, or at least Eddie’s love for Frank, could certainly be the reason why the he was taken off script.

After all, if two male characters are shown to be gay for each other in a kids show from the 1970s, chances are Playfellow Workshop would rather scrap the homosexual (derogatory) mailman character than have Welcome Home be taken off the air entirely just because of said mailman character.

Furthermore, what’s more interesting and ironic about Eddie being a prominent character who became intensively aware of his situation is the fact that he first appears to be a character who could be considerably perceived as“insignificant” or “irrelevant.” Of course I don’t actually think he is, but from the way Playfellow Workshop and the Homewarming commercials are framed Eddie, it can be interpreted that Eddie is seen as a rather character of little relevance.

It is partially due to him being taken script, but it’s also the fact that his only thing going on for him is being the mailman for the neighborhood — as well as a bit of a comedic relief. Eddie said himself in the Homewarming video from the secret site — if I’m correct, he feels that nobody appreciates him enough for his work (though correct me if I’m wrong). And that since there’s no one there to ask him to deliver something, or call, or check up on him, he feels as though that — somewhere inside of him — he feels both left out and “irrelevant.”

His one role is to be the neighborhood delivery man, and without that, then what exactly would he be good for?

(this could further be emphasized when Sally told him that they made the deliveries for him to give him a day off — even though no one told him that, and chances are this is perhaps Sally trying to reassure him when in reality, he was just scripted out of Homewarming hence why no one came to talk to him. Getting lil off topic oops—).

Recircling back to the original topic, yada yada yada Eddie just being a mailman and besides that he views himself to be irrelevant so on and so forth.

One thing I would like to mention, relating to Eddie being the probable first of the group to become aware other than Wally, is that I find it surprising that Eddie Dear IS the probable first to become aware like Wally.

To tell y’all the truth, I didn’t think he would play such a significant role in the Narrative (and thus probably doomed by it too). I would have least thought Frank or Julie would have been next to become the more Self Aware.

But Eddie Dear? Our loveable, friendly, and reliable mailman — Eddie Dear? Suddenly depersonalizing right on the spot with a pea plate and becoming aware of both his sentience, the weirdness of his setting overall, and how he could hear Home’s heartbeat? How he knew that the moment he comes to this revelation of self-awareness, he can’t go back? That everything he has ever known is most probably not real and/or all a lie?

It just has me stopping for a second on why and how him, but after thinking about it furthermore, alongside reading analysis posts, it would make sense for him to be next on why he had become Aware.

And I can only assume that from here on out, things are bound to change. And I for one fear these colorful lil puppets — particularly Eddie in this case.

Lets just hope the existential dread doesn’t drive all of them over the edge.

[ender--slime]

AAAAAAAND PREORDERS ARE CLOSED!

holy shit!! thank you all four million bajillion times THANK YOU for the overwhelming support!! the total order count came tooooo…

FIVE HUNDRED ORDERS!! 500!! EXACTLY FIVE HUNDRED!

WAYGH!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!! THATS CRAZY!! Thank you so much!!! This is so much more than I could have ever imagined!! I’m so so happy and grateful for the support!

SO!! What now?

GETTING THE BAGS MADE

It will take about TWO MONTHS to get every bag made, and then they get to be shipped to my house where i will…ship them all out to YOU. Um. Yeah. Nearly 500 bags. in my house. to ship out. one by one. i feel like markiplier with his tasteful calendar years ago. except he had to sign fifty THOUSAND and i’m only packing 500. so. actually it’s nothing like that and i get to SUCK IT UP!!! and look at the calendar in question on my wall for emotional support....please be patient with me while i do this!!! this will take me probably another couple of months just to get every single one out there!! but it will be done!! one day i’ll probably pay like. a fulfillment center? to do this for me? i’m kinda new to this. if that wasn’t super obvious… and then, after that…

Some changes moving forward:

PRICE INCREASE

Boo sound effect, tomatos, i know. But i got such overwhelming support for this project that um…well, i have to pay taxes on it! Essentially this became my real life job in a very short amount of time! I have to make myself an LLC now?!? I’m incredibly grateful for the support, but this does mean I need to make sure I can actually afford to keep doing this. or else the IRS will fucking GET ME. Like seriously. It could get really messy really fast. I have to pay taxes all by myself now. And this means a slight price increase for future editions of the bag. The base price will increase from $40 to $50! Shipping will stay the same. This does not come without some slight upgrades, though!

BAG UPGRADES

The strap is going to be longer in future editions (by what measurement i’m not sure yet- i will do some experimenting and figure out an ideal length!) and I will also see if I can order straps separately so that any Pink and Purple bag owners who would like an even longer strap can buy an extra one without having to buy a new bag! The bag strap length is okay right now, but I got quite a few requests to make them even longer- so I will do so!!

The inside pocket will be slightly modified to be looser fabric instead of the super tight zipper pocket. Can’t fit much in there. It will hopefully still have a zipper, though! I’ll workshop this a bit before I do the next batch!

If anyone has any more suggestions for future batches of the bag, please do let me know! If it’s within my (and the manufacturer’s) power to do, I definitely want to try!!

NEXT BATCH?

The next batch will be YELLOW and BLUE!! Hash fans unite!! You got your poll win eventually!! After yellow and blue, I’m planning some funky ones! Black, and…well. something else!! i’ll come up with one to go with it!

The black ones are pretty fuckin cool, and I can’t wait to show you all! I have two ideas for Black bags that i simply cannot decide between so i’ll probably have to put it up for a vote next summer!!

Okay, that’s all for announcements today!! Thank you all so, so, SO much for the support, and thank you in advance for your patience!!

WHERE DOIN THIS MAN… WHEre makin this hapen :)

[tempestuous-tempest]

Romancing Reginald "Wrench" Blechman

I've gotten an informal request for more Wrench headcanons this time, Romance ones. I have done romance in the past with one that was for more than just Wrench as well as one for an astronaut s/o. Here are my other Wrench headcannon lists; 1, 2, 3, 4.

Dates:

Improvised more often than not. He doesn't think to plan them out most of the time and so they are often spontaneous.

Going shopping at a Walmart just to get kicked out from riding shopping carts around the store or playing basketball in the toy isle or sword fighting with wrapping paper or sticks from the arts and crafts section.

Spray painting curse words and middle fingers all over bloom buildings and Haum. Hacking Albion drones and using em and cause some havoc.

Watching new action movies like Deadpool and Wolverine.

Scaling the Golden Gate or the London Bridge and harrassing locals by hacking their radios and changing their music.

Racing. Obviously. Especially if it ends up in a high speed chase.

Love Language(s):

Physical Touch is his most primary form of showing affection. He's clingly as all hell. Hand holding, hand around your shoulders, little sweet mask kisses that kind of hurt. Of course when you're in private the mask comes off a bit.

Quality Time is his secondary form. Spending time with you is something he enjoys. It can be as much as taking you on a date or as little as just standing near each other at his workshop.

Acts of Service falls in the middle. He likes pretending he can be a gentleman. Opening doors for you with a little "My lady/dude", fixing something you broke and put on the waiting list of things you need to fix later, and/or buying donuts and coffee for you in the mornings for breakfast. Be careful though, if you sleep to late, he'll sit there and eat em all himself.

Gift Giving. He'll probably tinker with some things and make a gift for you every once and a while. Gives him something to do. With his hands when you're not around and he cant just hold you. Sometimes he'll buy you things or if you

Words of Affirmation dont exactly stick with him. Anyone can say they love another and the words can be as hollow as bird bones. He doesnt like how empty the words can seem even if spoken with real love.

Bonus:

Expect pranks. Nothing harsh like "Oh I'm breaking up with you". Just something actually funny. Prank wars between you two are inevitable.

Absolutely throws a fit when he can't have your attention like a two year old in Walmart being told he can't get something he wants. He pouts when ignored.

[stllmnstr]

sacred monsters [teaser!]

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, vampire au, slow burn

teaser word count: 1.7k

teaser warnings: swearing

release date: saturday, august 3, 10 PM EST

soundtrack: still monster / moonstruck / lucifer - enhypen / everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears / immortal - marina / supermassive black hole - muse / saturn - sleeping at last / everybody’s watching me (uh oh) - the neighbourhood

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

A literature student in your third year of university, you’ve been dreaming of having your writing published for as long as you can remember. With a perfect opportunity dangling at your fingertips, the only obstacle that stands in your way comes in the form of a ridiculously tall, stupidly handsome, and unfortunately, very talented writer by the name of Lee Heeseung. Unwilling to let your dream slip out of reach, you commit to being better than the aforementioned pain in your ass at absolutely everything.

But when a string of vampire attacks strikes close to your city for the first time in nearly two hundred years, publishing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. And, as you soon begin to discover, Heeseung may not quite be the person you thought he was.

note: this fic is my BABYYY so I really hope it’s well received and you all have a good time with it. it’s probably no surprise that still monster is one of my absolute favorite enha songs, and this story is essentially (my interpretation of) it in written form. this is going to be a multi-part story, and as of right now, the first part is almost ready to share. for now, enjoy this snippet!

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Crossing a dark line through the word you just penned, you sigh. 

This is the fastest you’ve put a story together in ages. It’s cohesive, and the writing is solid. Your use of metaphor is strong and concise, and the prose feels true to your identity as a writer. 

But something in you withers a bit with every new word you commit to paper. It’s not that you hate your topic. If anything, it’s just that you have no stake in it at all. It doesn't feel innovative or exciting or representative of your creativity. 

No matter how easily the words flow out of you, something about it just feels… flat. One dimensional. 

You need something new. A different angle or an alternative perspective or… Or a fresh set of eyes. 

Struck with a sudden idea, you pull out your phone, plan taking form in your mind. The literature club at your university hosts bimonthly peer review sessions, and you haven’t taken advantage of them nearly as much as you should. They’re a chance for any writer, literature major or otherwise, to come together and workshop any piece of writing of their choice. 

Tapping your finger impatiently on the table, you wait for the page to load. The fall semester did end almost a week ago, so it may be a long shot. You’re not sure if the club typically holds sessions over winter break. But as you pull up the club’s calendar of events, a small smile tugs at your lips. 

Luck seems to be on your side this time. It’s written there in plain, bold font that there will be a session this upcoming Friday evening. That means that if you attend the session and get some solid ideas for revision, you’ll have exactly five days to refine your draft before you present it to Professor Kim. 

The idea of having not only a topic, as the schedule outlined, but an actual complete,  well-written draft to show him next Wednesday, turns your small smile into one that overtakes your features. 

Energized with a new vigor, you reach for your pen again. It doesn’t have to be perfect, you remind yourself, even as a turn of phrase makes you cringe. Even as a piece of punctuation feels out of place. It just needs to be written. You just need to have as much content as you can to share on Friday. 

Besides, you’re sure that a second opinion will help you fine tune this story into something you’re proud to share, something you’re excited to attach your name to.

The afternoon is quick to blur into early evening, and you’re still bent over your favorite corner table. Coffee long drained, you’re full of a new confidence. The thought of proving yourself suddenly doesn’t seem like such an unachievable, out of reach task. 

And when you do finally gather up all of your belongings and make your way back to your apartment for the night, you’re sure that this is the exact boost you needed. 

That same stroke of self-assuredness carries you all the way through a finished first draft. It’s rough and messy and littered with loose ends, but it’s tucked away in the bottom of your tote bag with a smile as you haul it to classroom number 105 in the university liberal arts building Friday evening. 

You pause at the door to the classroom, only for a moment. The inhale you breathe in is deep, full. Nodding to yourself once, you push open the door. 

You haven’t been to one of these workshop sessions since the second semester of your first year, back when you had just switched to a literature major. You remember being wide-eyed and incredibly protective over your work. It was hard to part with it, to let anyone else read over the sentences you were so unsure of. The writing you had little confidence in. 

But your partner had been kind. Another girl in her first year, she had nothing but gentle feedback to give and reassurance that your writing was worth reading. Honestly, it was such an overwhelmingly positive experience that you would have come back for more sessions if you weren’t constantly struggling to find minutes to spare in the day. 

You’re hoping that tonight will be just as rewarding as you enter the classroom, tote bag in tow. But as you survey the space around you, your face falls flat, easy going smile dropping from your lips. 

You weren’t expecting a big crowd, considering that it is winter break and most students are deliberately avoiding campus right now, but you were hoping there’d be more than one other person in attendance. 

Well, you think, deciding to look on the bright side of things. At least you’re not the only person. 

The other attendee is sitting in the far corner of the room, occupying a desk near the front of the classroom. At the sound of your entrance, they turn to face you. 

With that, your small disappointment is quick to snowball into an intense wave of exasperation. Because why is the universe so hellbent on playing games with you?

Your mouth drops open without your permission. “Heeseung?” 

Your sudden outburst fills the room and lingers long into the awkward silence that follows. You hadn’t meant to say anything, but really, what are the god forsaken odds?

If he’s bothered by your reaction to seeing him, Heeseung doesn’t show it. Instead he looks strangely… relieved. It makes absolutely no sense for him to feel any sort of relief at the sight of you, but it’s hard to put a more apt descriptor to the way tension drains from his shoulders, crease between his brows softening as he looks at you, scans you from head to toe. 

A moment of stilted silence passes between the two of you. Another. Your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest.

You exhale, a cross between a scoff and a laugh so humorless it could freeze a flame. Weighing your options, the most tempting by far is to just turn on your heel and exit the way you came. 

Heesung seems to read your intention before you can commit to it. 

Breaking the heaviness in the atmosphere, he acts as if you’ve greeted him like an old friend, not as the source of all your recent headaches. 

“Hi,” he nods, so tentatively you almost want to let your jaw drop open in shock. Almost. 

Because what the fuck does he mean by ‘Hi?’ This has to be some kind of mind game, some way to get in your head and ruin this for you. 

“Right.” Your lips pull into a tight line. You don’t bother to return his greeting. “I’m just gonna go, then.” Hiking up your bag on your shoulder, you turn to do just that. Your first draft will just have to be unpolished. Oh, well. You’re sure Professor Kim will have better feedback for you than Lee Heeseung ever would anyway. 

Once again, Heeseung’s voice cuts across the classroom. “Wait.” There’s a command in his voice. Gentle, but firm. Insistent. So pervasive that you find yourself following without really meaning to. 

Mind made up and dead set on leaving, now you’re just annoyed. What a waste of a Friday evening.

“What?” You turn back to him. You’re not sure if there’s more venom in your voice or your eyes. 

And Heeseung, who commands a classroom with quiet grace, with his steady, unwavering presence, suddenly looks so damn unsure. As if tormenting you is uncharted territory. As if he’s never once left you in the cold with flaming cheeks and a thoroughly shattered ego. 

“I…” he trails off, not quite meeting your furious gaze. “Didn’t you come here to get feedback?”

“Right.” You scoff again. “Because I’m sure you’d love nothing more than to tear my writing to shreds. Forgive me, but I’m not interested in being the butt end of your joke tonight.”

“What?” If you didn’t know any better, the ignorance he feigns would be rather convincing. “That’s not why I’m here.” He shakes his head. “I brought something I want reviewed too.” 

Your brow arches. He can’t be serious. “Even if I did stay,” you counter, “you’re actually the last person I would want to read my work. Feel free to be offended by that, by the way.”

For a solid minute, Heeseung just looks at you. He wears that same damn deer-in-the-headlights expression he had after you brushed him off when he intercepted you in class the other day. He pauses, weighing words on his tongue. “Look, ____.” The sound of your name on his lips strikes a strange chord in you. Until now, you were certain he didn’t even know it. “Did I do something to offend—”

And no. Absolutely not. No way are you rehashing that day in the quad with him now. 

“You know what,” you interrupt. You need to go. Now. You need an out. “I’m actually, like, super tired. I think I’m just gonna head back, and—”

But then it’s his turn to cut off your train of thought. “It’s your piece for Professor Kim, isn’t it?” Heeseung takes your silence as confirmation. “Publishing is a big deal. A second set of eyes will only make your work stronger. And if you hate my feedback, it’s not like you have to use any of it.”

You hate it. You despise the way his reasoning matches your internal monologue nearly word for word. The way your thoughts align exactly. 

You pause, a decision weighing heavy on your mind. He is an excellent writer… There would probably be substance to his feedback. Real, actual, good substance that you could use to make your writing bloom into something truly amazing. He could be the exact spark you need to make your story come to life. 

You purse your lips. “What’s in it for you?”

Heesung smiles, a nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips. He knows he’s won. “Like I said, I brought something I’ve been working on.” There’s an intention you can’t quite read behind his gaze when he adds, “I want to know what you think of it.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

With a grumble, you take reluctant steps towards where he sits on the opposite side of the classroom. And if you slide down into the seat next to him with a little more force than necessary, well, it’s just because you’ve had a long week. No other reason. None at all. 

“Fine,” you relent, reaching to pull your notebook out of your bag. “You get twenty minutes.”

“That’s not nearly long eno—”

“Thirty,” you concede. “And don’t push it.”

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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note: thanks for checking out this little snippet! I can't wait to share the full first part soon. this one is going to be so much fun I'm buzzing already. I don't have a tag list, but I will most likely update this post and reblog it once I have a confirmed release date. like I said in the note at the beginning, I'm anticipating it will be ready to go by this sunday (august 4 EST) at the latest. woo!