#a locals only sort of place that was big on taking care of others in the community

[impossible-rat-babies]

thinking about dirge’s foster parents ;—;

[sunderwight]

AU where there's no system (or a decidedly less restrictive one) and Shen Yuan transmigrates into an OC rogue cultivator before the start of the novel, and decides he's gonna steal the protagonist before Luo Binghe even gets to Cang Qiong.

The logic is sound -- he'll keep Luo Binghe from experiencing neglect and abuse at Shen Qingqiu's hands, raise him away from the pressure of the sects and the likelihood that anyone else might find out about his heritage and try to harm him over it, keep him fully away from the Immortal Alliance Conference, and then Luo Binghe's course will change trajectory because he'll have no reason to want revenge against the world and no access to Xin Mo. Shen Yuan will be able to spare Luo Binghe some suffering and possibly survive in a world less subject to the harrowing whims of a half-mad tyrannical overlord. Win-win!

However, the tricky bit is that he's not sure exactly how far ahead of the novel he is, and also Airplane didn't specify where Luo Binghe grew up. This means that Luo Binghe could be any age younger than twelve and in any number of places along or near to the Luo river.

Shen Yuan decides he's going to approach this by pretending he is looking for the long-lost son of his sister, traveling through the likeliest areas, asking after abandoned children who might fit the protagonist's description. It's a long shot, he knows, and he's mostly relying on the existence of Narrative Destiny. But eventually he is directed by several people towards a particular city, which is not as close to the river as he'd have expected Luo Binghe to grow up, but then again he only knows that was where baby Binghe was found, not where the washerwoman who took him in ultimately lived.

It becomes clear to him, though, that he's been sent to the wrong target. But also why he's been sent astray is apparent in nearly the same breath, because among the slave children living in this area is a little boy who could be his much younger clone.

Seriously, this kid looks just like him! Or, well, close enough. He looks a lot like Shen Yuan's actual nieces and nephews from his past life. It's uncanny.

Also, because of his search, the slave kids get wind of what he's looking for (his long-lost nephew) pretty quick. The boy with the obvious resemblance to him greets Shen Yuan's own assessment with wary cynicism, but he's just a little boy. So it's not difficult to notice the way he's also practically vibrating with hopefulness, half-hiding behind a protective older kid and looking at Shen Yuan with big dark eyes like he expects to be rescued or destroyed with whatever he has to say next.

Shen Yuan has a big problem now. He just knows that if he says something like "actually no this boy is too old to be my nephew" or whatever other excuse, no one will believe him, and also this poor kid is going to be permanently scarred by it. He's going to think Shen Yuan is lying just so that he can reject him. On top of that, he's not in a good situation here. None of these children are even remotely well cared-for.

Shen Yuan's rogue cultivator self isn't rich on the level of being like a wealthy sect leader or anything, but he's made some money since transmigrating by doing random cultivator jobs and quests along the way here. He uses it all to purchase two little slave boys (Do Not Separate), then takes another job and uses that coin to acquire a somewhat rundown manor which used to belong to the local gentry. The Qiu family (rings some bells but that's not exactly an uncommon name) kept it up for a while in case a branch family sprung up in need of a residence, but they've been in decline and the place is downright decrepit, so they had been looking to sell it instead. It's too big for a wandering bachelor like SY to ever need on his own account, but that's sort of the idea. He makes more money taking on cultivator work, at first taking his boys along with him for lack of any alternative. Nerve-wrackingly dangerous! Eventually he hires workers to start restoring the manor, particularly setting up a yard to be a school area, and then starts taking on any freelance jobs he can get in order to steadily buy out the contracts on all the other kids. He gets it nice enough to house and care for as many orphans as he can acquire.

Not because he's a big old softie though!

His story of looking for his nephew is a bust now, since he's apparently "found" the kid. So he's got to change tactics! If he can't find baby Binghe and the washerwoman, the next best approach is to create an opportunity for them to come to him. So once he's got his new household established, he starts offering free lessons to all the local kids. Not just the ones he's taken in, but also any who come by and want to learn some things. It's a tempting setup for anyone who wants their child to get education but can't afford a tutor, and Luo Binghe's mother had been entirely the sort of person who would have packed up and left her situation if there had been an opportunity for it.

On that note, SY also starts hiring single mothers to help look after his new gaggle of children and do the work he doesn't know how to do in these times, like keeping house, laundry, cooking, actually raising kids, etc.

His "little school" is not universally popular. A few groups try and ruin him, because the poverty in the region provides a basis of business for them. The ringleaders of the human traffickers in the area don't want their trade to dry up, even if it means selling all of their merchandise for this round, so when they find out that their underlings let Shen Yuan buy off all the kids they try and intimidate him into returning them (it doesn't go well for them). The Qiu family also isn't thrilled after it becomes clear what he's doing, and get him investigated by the local authorities (read: use their bribed officials and local goons to try and interfere.)

When that doesn't work either the sects get involved, because the Qiu go crying to Huan Hua Palace that Shen Yuan is sketchy and is trying to establish his own sect. So Shen Yuan talks his way around the matter, and frankly the Qiu are small fish even if they're the biggest ones in the local pond, so HHP doesn't care to pursue things much further. (Read: SY could mop the floor with the disciples they sent to investigate him, and it's not worth it to piss off someone this mysterious and powerful just to bully some impoverished children.)

Shen Yuan is appalled by all this bullshit though. Trust the world of PIDW to make it so hard just for a guy to teach some poor kids how to read and do math!

It makes him dig in his heels about it, because he is at heart a stubborn bastard. The fires that once fueled a thousand angry screeds on zhongdian literature site is now aimed at the local magistrate. One of the women he's hired on has some dirt on the Qiu family, which leads SY to dig up some more until he eventually has enough to turn the tables on them. Local officials won't investigate because they've all been bought, but that in and of itself is of some interest to their superiors closer to the palace, and so SY arranges an investigation of his own that goes way further than he thought? Turns out there are some ugly skeletons in the Qiu closets, and the imperial investigator comes down on them hard.

Well, he can't say they didn't have it coming? Though he does feel bad for the children in the family, especially the oldest son, who gets hauled off to jail along with his father. At least the girl is sent to live with relatives. Maybe he should have done more to shield the minors in the situation...?

His kids tell him not to worry about it, though, that apparently young master Qiu was known to run people down in the streets and beat his servants and do other cartoonishly awful things. SY's not sure how much of it is true and how much of it is his little flock of fluffy sheep trying to ease his conscience, though they do all seem to take a lot of vindictive delight in the whole affair. Especially Nephew, who clings to his sleeves and loudly declares that the investigator should have publicly flogged the discredited nobles so that everyone could go watch, and then begs him for sweets as if that wasn't a creepy thing to hear come out of an eight-year-old's mouth. SY just sighs and tells him he can have something good when he finishes his calligraphy practice.

Of course, it's not exactly easy running what is basically an orphanage-slash-school (and maybe a budding sect...?), especially when pretty much all of the kids have been traumatized and faced stuff like rampant dehumanization, food insecurity, abuse, and neglect. Hiring single mothers soon becomes not only a plan to try and lure in Luo Binghe's mom, but an absolute godsend of an idea because SY has no clue WHAT he would do on his own about the discipline issues or emotional breakdowns or acting out that some of the kids get up to once it registers that they're in a safe enough place to unpack their baggage.

Apart from Nephew, SY's favorite kid is the one who came with him, the oldest of the flock of former slave children. He's the big brother of the group, the one who tries his best to look after the others and to not make any trouble himself. But even poor Little Yue is still just a kid who has been through too much, and he also eventually starts having some meltdowns and struggles with processing everything that has happened to him as a vulnerable child in an unkind world.

SY really didn't mean to start a trauma center for mistreated children!

Though, that's still not necessarily a bad thing for Luo Binghe to one day come across, provided he ever actually shows up...

Eventually, Shen Yuan does figure out that he must be ahead even of Luo Binghe's birth, though he still doesn't put together that he's interfered in the scum villain's backstory. Probably something even more amusingly obscure, like the creation year of some random artifact Luo Binghe used in some wife plot or other, tips him off and he mentally throws his hands up in the air. He's got to wait DECADES? Maybe he ought to try and find Luo Binghe's biological parents and just follow them around at this point!

Not that he can, now, though, because he has to make sure no negative IQ villains (who will probably just be cannon fodder for a subplot one day) decide to send goons to literally burn down his orphanage. Also if he's gone for too long his kids get upset. Probably because no one else is as weak to their puppy dog eyes and pleas for treats and toys as he is.

At least it gives him time to shore up his position, and train Nephew and Little Yue more extensively in cultivation. Despite his initial assurances to HHP that he was but a humble orphan wrangler who was only incidentally a cultivator, Shen Yuan does also teach the other kids some basic cultivation exercises. There are a few reasons for that.

One is just the principle of the thing. No, these kids don't all have the potential to become great immortals or anything, but they can still learn some of it and it's good for their health if they do. The only trouble is if they try and push too hard or attempt things beyond their range, and that's a risk with everyone who cultivates. Or even just exercises!

Another reason is that it helps stave off the jealousy that some of the kids have towards those with more cultivation potential. Teaching a lot of the basics all around makes it into just another topic at school. Some kids might not be as good at it as others, but those kids might also be better at math, or memorization, or board games, and while cultivation can open more doors to people as adults, for the children this is generally enough to satisfy their sense of fairness. Or at least reduce outbursts and fights.

Finally, the impression that any of SY's kids might be a cultivator also makes wicked people more reluctant to try and abduct or interfere with them. Cultivators are revered and nearly mythological figures in the public consciousness. It isn't difficult to see why, if even a rogue cultivator NPC like SY* can mop the floor with most random muggers (*Shen Yuan is not a normal rogue cultivator). Not many people want to risk bringing SY's ire down on them, but of those who might chance it if he wasn't around to immediately react, even fewer want to risk that the kids themselves could kick their asses.

Not knowing that only two of the orphans probably could in fact mop the floor with them helps keep all the rest safer, and is more believable when all of them can conduct themselves enough like disciples to fool anyone who doesn't know what to really look for.

Developments that surprise Shen Yuan but wouldn't surprise anyone else who is paying attention:

People start leaving unwanted babies and younger children on his doorstep. Not all the time, but more than once has he had to frantically find wet nurses and worry that he's changed things enough that some fishermen might just randomly drop the protagonist outside his gate, and he wouldn't even know because Binghe would be a literal infant??

Nephew (SJ) and Little Yue (Yue Qi -- only Shen Yuan calls him "Little", especially when he gets taller than SY by the time he's sixteen) are prodigies who get really good at cultivation, really fast, and between that and Shen Yuan's OP skills they completely warp Shen Yuan's ideas for what normal cultivation potential looks like. This would probably cause more problems if he wasn't teaching all the kids how to cultivate anyway, but means his students actually do kinda run the usual range of skills for a small sect.

SJ and YQ swiftly reach the point where they need more advanced equipment than just SY's teaching can provide, if they're going to keep building their skills. Gaining access to certain tools, aids, and materials (like spiritual swords) is a real hurdle though, and usually is for rogue cultivators (one of the major disadvantages of no sect affiliation.) Shen Yuan is hesitant to use stuff from the plot, since it's For Binghe, but he eventually caves and starts going after some things that he doesn't think the future protagonist will miss much. He also ends up buying stuff from HHP, since they're willing to sell things like spiritual tools and weapons if the price is right, whereas most other sects like Cang Qiong reserve them for members only.

They get an invitation to the Immortal Alliance Conference. Not the one where the Abyss opens up, obviously, the one where (originally) Shen Jiu reunited with Yue Qi and killed Wu Yanzi. Shen Yuan debates on going but the boys really want to, and things have calmed down enough that no one's trying to burn down the school whenever he leaves these days, so eventually he figures it'll be interesting to see some of the Cang Qiong characters and should be safe enough if he keeps his disciples close.

They don't run into young Yue Qingyuan or Shen Qingqiu on the trip, but Wu Yanzi does show up and get killed, and SY only hears about it and assumes they just missed all that action. (WYZ just got caught by some senior cultivators who recognized him and killed him to avenge some disciples he murdered.) Nephew and Little Yue do meet young Liu Qingge, Shang Qinghua, Mu Qingfang, and Su Xiyan though! Which gives Shen Yuan the opportunity to tell them all (mostly Su Xiyan) that if they're ever in trouble near his school, they can come to him for help. Hint hint.

This open invitation ends up being accepted broadly by a lot of traveling cultivators after the conference, who from then on treat Shen Yuan's school like a free motel whenever they're passing through. Plenty aren't even people SY met, but it seems his statement was taken as a general one to fellow righteous cultivators all around! Luckily, this has some advantages. Shen Yuan has no qualms running off anyone who tries to take unfair advantage of him or especially his kids or staff, and no shame in conscripting anyone who is decent enough to help teach his students, even if it's nothing to do with cultivating, and somehow word gets around and people start bringing school supplies, medicine, food, or other useful things along with them as gifts to help repay the hospitality. Young Liu Qingge comes by a lot on his way to and from various quests, or even seems to just turn up randomly sometimes (he comes to challenge YQ and SJ to fights), and SY's just like "I guess this is happening now" and teaches him to recognize the early signs of qi deviation and advises strongly against meditating in caves.

At one point a young Shang Qinghua turns up in one of the spare rooms, very obviously hiding an ice demon. Shen Yuan again is just like "I guess this is happening now" and shelters them until Mobei Jun has recovered, and sends a message to Cang Qiong that one of their An Ding caravans was attacked and their disciple is recovering under his roof but isn't well enough to travel yet. Much less stressful situation for Airplane (who is desperately trying to figure out what he did to manifest SJ's benevolent uncle from somewhere???)

Su Xiyan seems like the only person they met at the Immortal Alliance Conference who doesn't turn up at their door in a state of emergency at some point.

A few years later, there is a big scandal involving her and the demon emperor. Su Xiyan disappears, Huan Hua Palace accuses Tianlang Jun of plotting against the righteous sects, and Shen Yuan is even invited to the meeting where they try and rally everyone to go kill Binghe's dad. Naturally, he declines to participate in the witch hunt, but the major sects agree to it. By luck (or narrative fortune) Shen Yuan comes across Zhuzhi Lang on his trip back home, and mentions the ambush and his distaste for it (not knowing who ZZL is). ZZL warns Tianlang Jun and the confrontation goes very differently, especially since there's no Yue Qingyuan wielding Xuan Su.

It doesn't go well for the sects involved. Huan Hua Palace gets decimated. The Old Palace Master gets killed. Shen Yuan is like uhhhh that's... whoops? Didn't Luo Binghe need that in the future?? Fuck.

But the sect isn't wiped out completely, they just take a massive beating. Some of their younger disciples end up leaving and turning up on Shen Yuan's doorstep, for some reason. The manor house is becoming too small to account for all of these foundlings! They have to expand. Though the expansions would be a stretch to term a "palace" they end up occupying a much larger chunk of territory, and even investing in farmland and some storehouses to help support the sect. That's still not really a sect, of course. Even if a lot of the business that would have normally gone to Huan Hua Palace starts coming to them instead. Once HHP is back on its feet the stream will probably dry out. Probably?

Zhuzhi Lang starts hanging around. He's actually looking for Su Xiyan or their baby, dead or alive and per Tianlang Jun's instructions, but he uses Shen Yuan's school as base camp for his kind of hopeless efforts to find any traces of them, while also looking for ways to try and repay Shen Yuan. All the kids are just like "oh great, another weird man has fallen in love with Shizun -- someone go run interference" about it.

Some years later, an older woman and her young son turn up. Shen Yuan's off on a quest at the time, so SJ receives them. As is standard procedure he gives the woman a job and places the boy in classes, after giving him the aptitude tests. The kid is cute and precocious, so SJ uses him to distract YQ while he himself sneaks out to go join LQG on a monster hunt (and claim the valuable parts of the beast's remains for himself), and neither SY nor ZZL notice anything until SY's going over the paperwork for stuff he missed while he was gone. Since he procrastinated, it takes him like a week to find out that Luo Binghe is finally under his roof. He's going over the admission form right when SJ arrives with The New Adorable Child to try and distract SY enough that SY will let him go on a solo hunt -- as far as being distracted goes, it is way more effective than even SJ anticipated.

Then he has to figure out how to let ZZL know, so that ZZL can let Tianlang Jun know, so that Luo Binghe will have more family than just his mom and more resources than just a shabby little not-sect! But even once he figures it out and sets up the dramatic reveal, TLJ is just like "great! so can he just stay with you? he's probably fine there" which... irritates SY.

SJ fully conscripts Luo Binghe as a minion in his many cons. He never lost his street kid conman tactics, although he now uses them less as a ruthless survival tool or weapon and more to just get things to go his own way. LBH has the face and disposition of a little angel, which SJ no longer can pull off as a full grown adult, so he fills a gap. LBH also knows full well what's going, especially since a lot of SJ's tactics involve throwing LBH at SY like a smoke bomb.

Luo Binghe inevitably still develops a big fat crush on SY, so this is fine by him. Especially when he gets older, he starts bringing SY tea and making him breakfast and running his errands until even SJ is like "wait a minute, this little brat's stealing my job!" and by then it's too late. Luo Binghe is SY's personal assistant, the disciple at conman puppydog eyes has surpassed the master! While SJ was busy being like "I'm going to trick this idiot into doing my chores" LBH was going "I'm going to trick this idiot into giving me his job".

SY takes too long to officially name his school so everyone calls it the Shen Sect, much to his embarrassment.

[retiredteabag]

An Uninformed Narrative

Synopsis: You had lived in Stardew Valley for a year before you met the hunter from the adventures guild, Sukuna Itadori. It did not take long for him to catch your attention but you couldn't help feeling as if his affection resided anywhere but you.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

This is a Sukuna stardew valley au, heavily inspired by @tearzintheclub's similar series with butcher!sukuna, I highly recommend reading their work, they are super kind and were a big motivation for me to make this!

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had been dying for a decade before coming to the valley, still, unmercifully, alive. The bitter years you spent milling away on a computer, endless days blurring onto the next. A monotonous cycle of tireless work for a corporation that left you unfulfilled, complacent, and depressed. Holed up in a city you did not even like.

It was corrosive, only now, a year later, could you look back and realize that life didn't begin for you until you moved to your grandfather's farm.

It had been hard work. You knew it would be. Still, the labor it took to keep up with crops and farm animals had been more than you anticipated. But you had friends now, and goals. And that was more valuable than anything.

One year ago, when you came to the valley, romance was quite possibly the last thing occupying your mind. Only now, being able to comfortably settle into your home, could you allow yourself to think about things other than the prosperity of your land and the health of your animals.

That brings us to now.

You had read books about the Stardew Valley mines back in the mountains north of town. Harvey, the village doctor, had warned you of its treacherous depths. Having focused most of your efforts on farm/house maintenance, you had not traversed into dangerous territory beyond upgrading your tools and acquiring bug meat.

This is why, after a whole year of living in the valley, you were surprised to receive a notice in your mailbox from "The Adventurers Guild", an initiation of sorts, requesting you to slay 10 slimes to be granted entry.

You had thought about it all evening. By the next morning, you felt up for the challenge. After taking care of the chores you left you made your way up past the carpenter's shop, dropped off a fish you caught the night before to your friend Linus, and entered the mines.

It had been scary but you protected yourself well and acquired some gems and geodes to show for it. It was late when you made the trek home, but you were determined to enter the adventurers guild the next day.

It had been a delight to meet Gil and Marlon, the two men who ran the guild. They sold weapons and protective gear, offered rewards for monster slaying, and purchased monster loot. Still having some on you, you traded them in for the cash. With a smile on your face, you decided to go into town to buy some icecream for Yuuji, Jas, and Vincent.

Penny, the town's teacher, had the kids in the museum for lessons until 2 PM, so you traveled quickly to meet them in time.

Penny was always a delight. Kind to everyone, even if they did not deserve it. She was so good with the kids as well, and dedicated much of her time to their education.

You had met Penny just a few days after moving to the town at the local flower shop in the Cidersap Forest. You had learned she was quite fond of Poppy flowers and the owner of the little place, Jin Itadori, was unbelievably generous, always interested in hearing about your farm, and always willing to give out a flower or two.

Yuuji, being the florist's son and Penny's student, became a quick friend of yours and always wanted to talk whenever you came by the shop. Of course, you never minded and listened intently whenever the boy felt like sharing a fun fact about the flora in his home.

--

Time passed with the changing of the seasons and it wasn't long before fall was upon you.

Ever since entering the mines and joining the Adventures guild, you have been thinking about the quests Marlon and Gil have sent you on. Though it is dangerous, scouring the mines for the flesh of monsters, it brings you a thrill to know you are doing something good for the community.

A post had gone up on the community board in town about collecting bat wings and bringing the population down to a manageable level the other day, and in your spare time, you had been working on completing the quest.

It was late one night when you began to make your way back up to the mountains from the mine's elevator, you had quite the collection and enough time to sell it at the Guild before making your way home.

"You've been keepin' busy." Marlon greeted you as the wind pushed the door open along with your arm.

You smile at the man, unloading the backpack of your finds. "Well there's always something to do around here." you reply.

"True as the day is long...." Gil rocked back and forth in his chair, pretending to hear your conversation.

"I must say I'm glad to have you 'round. The quest board in town seems to be worked through much faster now." Marlon takes the post you handed him and the 200 bat wings, he was just about to hand you the payment when the door to the Guild swung open.

The hinges seemed to rattle with the shock of the large man's blow of it. He's huffing, yanking a balaclava up and over his face.

He has thick, pink hair and bright red eyes, he's enormous, having to duck just a bit so as not to hit his head on the door frame.

You looked at him, a bit shocked at his garish entrance. He looks so familiar, but his face is covered in tattoos. A unique style you've never seen before, certainly not in Stardew Valley

Despite being at the counter yourself, the lumbering man strides right up next to you, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. And just then, you have a thought.

Was he doing town board requests too? He was clearly not from the village, you would have met him by now. But Marlon does not spare him much of a glace, even when a stack of bones and a collection of rings is placed on his counter.

"Those damn haunted skulls are somethin' else." The man looks at Marlon with a gaze of distaste but the Guild leader just laughs. The large man doesn't look at you once.

Despite the chill of fall present in the air, he has sweat glistening on his exposed neck, he runs a hand through his hair and you can't help but notice how handsome this man is. The only thing, who was he? And why was he monster hunting in the Valley's mines?

"You got a problem?" Shocked from your thoughts, you look up. You hadn't meant to stare but upon his antagonized question your eyes bulge a bit.

"No! No, no, sorry..." You turn away, collecting the gold Marlon left out for you, ready to turn and leave when the man behind the counter made a gesture with his hand.

He called your name, "This is Sukuna, likely haven't met em' have ya? He's real reserved and all."

So he lives here? How could that be? "Oh, it's nice to meet you!" You go to shake his hand but he just looks you up and down, effectively dissuading that desire.

"So you're the rookie taking all the board requests in town, hmm?" He looks so domineering, still, even having just met him, you can reasonably assume that's just what his face looks like.

You shuffle where you stand, "Er... maybe so, yes... I'm sorry, I didn't know that was your area..." You wave your hand to the array of loot he had seemingly just acquired. He scoffs.

Marlon looks to you, "Sukuna is our most tenured monster hunter-"

Gil interjects from his rocking chair, "If ever there's a board request this here man can't handle, I know hell's right about frozen over."

The man before them did not crack a smile. A shiver went down your spine.

"I see, well, I live on the farm behind the Cidersap Forest-"

He cuts you off, looking almost annoyed, "I know who you are."

Oh.

Okay...

"Gotcha, sorry, well... it was nice meeting you." Sukuna stares at you for a moment before turning back to the Adventurers Guild leaders.

The awkwardness of the moment was painful, you already know youll be obsessing over this first impression for the next month or so and your shaking leg is telling you it is time to escape the embaressment before this man shuts down any more small talk.

You wonder if perhaps Sukuna is upset with you for "taking his job". Or maybe he had a bad day. If he really had been hunting Haunted Skulls, he had probably been dangerously deep in the mines.

Even though his gaze had been piercing, his frown looked permanent, and his tattoos gave off a highly intimidating look. You could tell there had been no malice behind his demeanor. And that, would be a small comfort as you mulled your way through the darkness.

You spent the whole walk home thinking about the large man. You had been everywhere in Stardew Valley yet had never met him.

He must live out of town, you thought as you checked the weather for tomorrow.

Rain. That meant another day in the mines. You needed an upgrade on your equipment if you were going to continue supplying for your growing crops' demands. That meant plunging deeper into the depths of the mine.

Sleep pulled at you even still, just as your eyes fell shut the memory of the pink-haired man popped back up into your brain.

His shirt stuck nauseatingly to his toned chest, his neck glimmering in the firelight of the guild, and those eyes. The red, sharp eyes he had looked you up and down with.

"I know who you are."

It was a small town. Even if you were from the outskirts. It was a shame though... having not met the man before... he certainly seemed interesting.

You shook the man from your thoughts as your dog climbed into the bed and the two of you began to doze off.

Unknown to you, a long and unexpected day awaited you at dawn.

[thegreatstoryteller]

The Great Shift: Turning 30

The Great shift was a huge time in many people’s lives. Especially those with birthdays who fell around the time of the great shift. Some turning 18, others turning 80! But still others had their hearts set on a time in their life that was quite pivotal. However, because of the shift some may have to wait a little longer to reach that milestone, while others have jumped leaps and bounds beyond it!

Harvey Singh (30 years old)

Fuuuck my head… and my clothes apparently. Damn. This is not what I imagined turning 30 would be like! 

Before the world went insane, I was so close! The damn great shift just had to happen right before my birthday. I was working at this law firm, a pretty shady place at first. Lots of scummy people taking advantage of others, but my boss was trying to turn it around! We kicked out those idiots who were causing trouble, got them arrested! I was gonna get promoted and help lead the charge for helping others… but not anymore.

The great shift landed me inside of Skyler Marlo! 18 year old quarterback for the local university. And right after a big party too. I couldn’t find a stitch of clothes to fit my new larger body. I was really lucky this frat house I woke up in had a towel nearby. But that was just the beginning of my nightmare. 

You see that smile of distress? Yeah that’s me. Instead of writing briefs and taking on clients in need, I’m here on the football field. Apparently after the upheaval the shift caused people are having trouble verifying identities and gaining access to their property/funds. That’s totally something I could be helping with! Instead I'm stuck back in the life of a teenager again. I wasn't a big fan of 18 last time I was in college.

The only thing that could get me after the shift was taking on this guy’s college scholarship. It gives me a place to stay and access to their college library, but I had to join the college football team. Some organizations like college athletics don’t seem to care who is shifted or not! As long as they got the players they need to draw in a crowd, they seemed perfectly content letting anyone play. Though who can blame them. If they saw me before I doubt they’d want some angry short king running their drills. No… now I’m not the 5’0 Indian guy who got overlooked in school. I look the picture of boy next door prom king that rules the college. 6’2, 195lbs of lean muscle, and size 15 feet. That last one took awhile to get used to! Finding cleats that size was the hardest part of this change. 

So here I am, sweating it out day after day to maintain my scholarship, while I wait for the day I’m recertified with my state’s bar! Once I’m a lawyer again I swear I’ll help out others like me forced to cling on to new lives while the system sorts things out. It sucks having to practice every day and do all these drills and grunt work! The college even has me posing for their promotional material to draw in bigger crowds at the game! Who would want this kind of life?!

Then again… it’s already been a few months… I may as well get used to college life… I was a nerdy brown kid my last run in college, mostly studying and doing what my parents wanted… now at least I can get a look at how the athletes lived… That frat did ask me if I wanted to join… I guess it couldn’t hurt to have a little fun while I wait to get my life back.

After all, I do get pretty excited after an intense practice, and judging by some of the looks from my teammates, I may not be the only one eager to get to know my new body better. 

Phil Inver (30 years old)

People need to learn how to relax. I don’t know what the big deal is. So a bunch of people swapped bodies. What’s there to worry about? See me? I don’t have a care in the world. When I was turning 30 doctors told me I was overweight and at risk of diabetes, my work would always be on me for not applying myself, and my girlfriend said I was always too lazy in our relationship! 

But my mindset since the shift hasn’t changed! It landed me in this nice smooth and lean body! I’m glad that this guy kept in such good shape. Having actual abs is insane! Same for these toned arms! I’m not sure if he’s the shaving kinda guy or if he’s naturally smooth, but it sure as hell beats taking care of an unruly beard and body hair!

Turns out now that I look like this people are a bit more receptive to my ideals! Doctors say my heart is as healthy as a horse! Says my stress free lifestyle is a large part of that! My work? They now say my chill attitude makes things a lot more zen around the office. Guess they don’t care I don’t get too much done whenever I flash them a smile. And my girlfriend… or my boyfriend as he goes by now, certainly thinks I’m taking an active role in the bedroom. Who knew that my new stud of a boyfriend had a thing for Asian guys!?

So what am I gonna do now? Listen to music, chill as my boyfriend showers, and wait out the day as normal. Sure I’m turning 30, but it’s just another day in paradise for me! Oh what’s that? This body is only 21? Even better! I’ve got plenty of time to relax before I turn 30.

Devon Lin (30 years old)

So I was a bit nervous about turning 30. I feel like I haven’t really done all the things I wanted… and all my friends were joking saying it’s all downhill after that. I wasn’t dealing the best with the stress… Well like it or not the shift had me face that hurdle a few year further than I expected.

And I gotta say. It’s not as bad as I thought it was gonna be. Sure I’m a bit older, but hell  I look a hell of a lot more manly! Could it be that the shift landed me in a handsome 37 year old with a built body, tan skin,  and perfect beard? Maybe… but hey. Age is just a mindset… but these muscles sure aren’t! Boom!

You like that? So do the guys at the bar! They keep insisting I don’t shave my chest or pit hair too. I think I could pull off that look. That being said, I think anything looks good on a 6’5 stud like me. Tall, dark, and handsome all the way!

Before I would jump around from job to job. Bartender, janitor, waiter, and housekeeper, but lately I’ve found my job as a bouncer at the local bar a lot more rewarding. You’d be surprised how many fights stop once I take my shirt off and start playing pool with the patrons. I’ve won nearly every game of billiards I’ve played! Though I have the sneaking suspicion it may be due to the guys staring more at me than the balls.

Guess that’s one of the benefits to working at a chill gay bar! You know, I was always a bit insecure about my body and experimenting sexually. Being a shorter gay man with a chip on his shoulder would do that to you. Now… well let’s just say now I feel like I’ve got a lot more confidence! I may have missed my 30th birthday, but I think I know how I’m gonna spend my 38th!

Marcus Garcia (30 years old)

They say when you get older you begin to value things differently. Honestly I didn’t know what to expect when I turned 30. Was I supposed to be wiser all of a sudden? Have a plan for things? In truth plenty of people younger than me had their life together compared to me. Partners. Kids. A stable job. A house.

In short. I thought I had more time. But we don’t always get to choose how fast life comes at us. I mean look at me. Didn’t expect the shift to make me 55.

Losing 25 years of my life was definitely not the easiest. The great shift nearly tears the world apart and I’m running for my life looking like retirement is right around the corner. That first day was definitely a wake up call that I did not have the same stamina that I used to. In that opening week of the shift I was pretty much running on adrenaline and coffee wherever I could get it. I took lots of naps just to stay sane. 

As the days went on and society slowly readjusted to some version of normal, I began to actually have time to look at my body. I mean I was a pretty skinny guy before, my sister would always say I needed to workout more. But I guess all it took was 25 years of my life to finally get in shape. 

Not only that, but I’m admiring the body hair. This guy was a pretty hairy dude. The salt and pepper stubble had guys starting me daddy at the gay bars, while the chest hair was still dark like my eyebrows and made my impressive physique pop. 

My feet were pretty big too. Size 14! Twice as big as my old feet, but just as hard to find shoes my size. 

Needless to say there were highs and lows to my new life. Was I happy that i was 6’6 now? Sure! Loved being tall and nearly bonking my head on doorframes. Was I upset lots of my joints were sore and that I could only take my coffee black to avoid dairy and sugar? No… that sucked. I liked my sweet drinks and I missed not waking up in pain.

Omar LeRon was a guy that lived along my street. He was a single dad raising his 5 year old, all at the age of 45.

I later learned he had a few wild days in his early 40s that lead to Omar Jr. And now in his mid 20s again he’s glad he could be more present for his son! Even if his son is the same age as him now.

He told me all of this one day when we both left our house for a jog. He found that doing some running in his new body helped him vent some much needed energy from his body, while I needed to do something physical if I was to have any hope of maintaining healthy workout routines for mine! 

Needles to say he offered some words of wisdom growing up and it really helped put some things in perspective. Meanwhile, I gave him some tips about helping his son. Turns out all those years working at my aunt’s day care counted for something, even for post shifted kids!

Our conversations started as friendly advice and then grew into more! Talks became dates. Dates became moving in. Moving in became an engagement! Now a few years after the wedding I guess you truly can call me a daddy now. Jr. sure does. He’s doing great in school and is looking forward to next week when my sister is gonna watch him for the summer.

My husband and I are gonna take our first real vacation since the great shift! We’re looking forward to it! We’ll be celebrating Omar’s 30th birthday in his new body now! He keeps making jokes saying, “Well I’ve done it before. Nothing to it the second time around.” And “Well here I thought your 30th birthday was extreme. I doubt I could top that”

He also never stops teasing me about how he loves being married to an older man and that I’m not as young as I used to be. We know it’s all in good fun. I mean, I can still keep up with him in the bedroom, where it counts… as long as he gives me a few minutes to recover after. Young guys like him are insatiable. I’ll try to power through though. After all, you only turn “30” once.

[the-gateway-to-madness]

Platonic dynamics I want to see more in the (tiny) Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons fandom:

Jack being like an older brother to Hiccup and sort of seeing an older version of Jamie in him and not scoffing at how nerdy he is ("holy crap you MADE this? Man show me how it works!!")

Rapunzel post-her-movie being all gung-ho and cheery, and Merida trying to get her to stop being so naïve, only for Rapunzel to calmly list all the ways she was betrayed and abused throughout her adventures (and you'd only have to go through the canon events of the movie and show to make this work, btw, girl's been through STUFF) and tells Merida she is upbeat and kind because she chooses to believe that most people are good, because so many people stuck with her through so much and so many people came back to her after betraying her. And Merida is like "well dang ok, wanna learn to shoot a bow"

Jack being calm, responsible, and protective of the others without becoming too angsty in the process- playing harmless little pranks to bring everyone's spirits up, that sort of thing

Merida being annoyed by Jack at first, but it's because she misses her brothers, not because she categorically dislikes the pranks. She tells Jack this and he asks her to join him doing pranks. She has much more fun after this.

Rapunzel is good at many things, but not so much inventing, as we see in TTS; her trying to assist Hiccup and him being good-natured about it but entirely accidentally outclassing her

Jack very deliberately keeping his past and loneliness to himself, and the others figuring out something's off because they never catch him sleeping, he's pensive when he's not interacting with them, he's got such wide and extensive experience, and he starts admitting bits and pieces like "I'm older than I look" etc etc

Jack never openly getting angry with the kids because they're kids and he's a Guardian, so instead when one of them is upset or trying to pick a fight with him, his staff will glow brighter or it'll get cloudier or windier or snowier- his magic responds, but Jack refuses to, making his calm all the more scary.

Jack being the first to realize Rapunzel has been through Stuff and sitting down with her when the other two are asleep "what happened to you?" entirely gently and patiently because HE'S A GOOD BIG BROTHER DANGIT I WANT THIS SIDE OF HIM TO SHOW MORE-

Hiccup worrying/getting upset/doing that I Have To Stand Alone thing and Rapunzel approaching him like "you're not the only one who grew up alone, you know. It's okay to rely on us, we won't let you down"

Hiccup doing the I Have To Stand Alone thing in general cause I don't see that a lot in crossovers or at least the arts

The others finding Jack in weird places because super-balance go brr

Jack being reluctant to touch any of the kids for any reason because he doesn't want to see the way they treat him change once they realize how cold and inhuman he really is

Merida recognizing Jack immediately as the only other obviously competent fighter by the way he moves (she was raised around all manner of warriors and guards, after all) and immediately setting about allying herself with him because Heaven knows they all need as much protection as they can get

Merida helping Hiccup to have a moment like he has in the HTTYD books where he realizes he's actually a really amazing swordfighter when he actually uses his dominant hand

Hiccup and Rapunzel asking Merida and Jack what siblings are like

Jack just treating them all like his little siblings

Jack and Merida gathering ingredients together and, depending on the region, Jack teaching Merida the safe local vegetation and herbs because he's been everywhere. Also, Jack teaching the others how to cook with local ingredients

Jack knowing a lot about herbal medicine and helping and teaching the others

After much internal deliberation, Jack choosing Hiccup to hold his staff while he takes care of two-handed tasks

Jack knowing how to style hair because of Mary, and he and Merida helping Rapunzel tame her hair

[burrcapts]

Furry Midnight Haul

Nobody really knows how such places come to be, but it typically doesn't take very long before they are noticed by those who had the misfortune of living nearby. Most of the time it starts with people simply having a strange, uneasy feeling if they happen to get too close. But with time, the stories behind them begin to grow and fill with new, frightening details. The locals start whispering about those who went missing after going there on a dare, or just because they did not believe the rumors and had something to prove. Unfortunately for Quinn and Leo, they weren't locals at all and heard no such warnings.

After Leo's gps sent the two of them on a goose chase across the countryside, suggesting an apparently far more optimal and 12,7% faster route that eventually turned out to take them through a good handful of different dirt roads, they somehow ended up in the absolute middle of nowhere. Somehow even despite that the duo was still in a pretty upbeat mood, chatting merrily about the amazing concert they were at earlier that evening. Unfortunately it was already well past midnight and Leo was starting to feel really worn out after all the different excitements of the day so driving much further did not seem like such a great idea.

The closest town on the map was almost an hour away and even then, it was so small that Quinn and Leo doubted they would have found an open motel there anyway. Instead they decided to spend the night in the parking lot of this old truck stop they happened to be passing at the time. It looked abandoned, but most of the lamplights around the property seemed to still be working so they hoped that at least no animals would be disturbing them till morning.

Quinn needed to take a quick leak before bedtime but Leo was so wiped that he wasted next to no time reclining his driver seat all the way back and rolling up some old sweatshirt he found on the backseat for a makeshift pillow. Of course he agreed when Quinn asked him to try and stay awake until he was back in case something were to happen. But it wasn't even a full minute after his friend closed the car door behind himself that he began dozing off.

Quinn was only planning to run behind the building and have a piss there, but as he got closer, he realized that he could see a faint light flickering behind one of the windows. Maybe this place wasn't really as abandoned as they originally thought… Upon closer inspection, he found the door to the public toilet at the side of the building, that's where the light was coming from! 

Much to Quinn's surprise, while not spotlessly clean by any means the bathroom wasn't a complete sty like he would have expected and after taking a small peek, he decided to try going inside, not knowing that nobody had been there in ages. He noticed a bit of a funky, musky aroma in the air, but honestly, that wasn’t a total dealbreaker. He walked up to the stalls and found them in a more than acceptable state as well. Those were going to be useful in case that double sized chili hot dog he got at the last gas station came knocking…

But one thing that caught Quinn's eye in particular had to be graffiti that covered the walls inside the stall. He giggled, wondering if he accidentally stumbled upon some secret gay cruising spot. The drawings were pretty simple and rather crude, depicting numerous beefy, burly men, with big cocks and even bigger beards! Quinn giggled when he noticed just how much care and attention was put into drawing their junk and their body hair, but how little anything else. 

Upon a closer look, it was almost like a comic book of sorts, showing the lives of a pair of particularly hairy, bearded truckers (but really, mostly just the two of them fucking each other and the men they met on the road.) One was drawn almost like a round ball with how huge his gut was and while the other had a pretty hefty potbelly too, someone definitely put the most effort into making his arms look as big and muscular as possible. 

Back in the car, Leo could see those same two arms in a much greater detail. As soon as he'd fallen asleep, he found himself having a very strange dream... In it, he was also reclining in front of the steering wheel in the middle of this same parking lot, only he was inside of a huge semi truck, rather than the old sedan he got from his dad. When he tried to move, Leo realized that he was occupying the body of someone else.

Someone big… really big. Those furry arms he saw waving in front of him were just enormous! He also had a beard, and it must have been really long and bushy because Leo could see its end brushing all across his meaty, ridiculously hairy chest whenever he looked down! He immediately blushed when he realized that wasn't the only thing he could see… This guy's fly was popped wide open with a fully hard, beercan of a cock sticking straight out of it!

And the freakiest thing was that as soon as he saw it, Leo began feeling so damn horny, as if he'd just been beating it off himself… suddenly it was almost getting hard to keep himself from wrapping this furry paw that he now had for a hand around the engorged, leaking piece of meat. Why not give it a few strokes? It wasn't like he was planning on cumming before the huz was back… that thought came so naturally to Leo that it didn't really occur to him to ask who was this ‘huz’ that he was talking about.

The burly trucker whose body Leo was now inhabiting did not like to think too hard about things, especially not when he was this hard and horny himself! If Quinn had still been around, he would have seen Leo squirming in the car seat, moaning pleasurably as the coating of stubble around his mouth began sprouting darker and thicker. But what was going on inside Leo's dream in that same moment was far less tame…

After giving his swollen meat a few timid strokes, he quickly discovered just how good it could feel to jerk off in the body of such a hulking, furry beast of a man. By now he was completely consumed by lust, grunting loud and beating it so hard that his huge, hairy balls were swinging in the air. Leo could actively feel himself growing dumber, but it was impossible to resist all that pleasure. As if this mind, limited to only the horny, brutish thoughts was experiencing them with that much more intensity.

Some of this horniness must have been rubbing off on Quinn because as he continued to study the lewd graffiti, his cock started to tent up in his pants without him noticing. His eyes were so tightly glued to the drawings that he also failed to realize that little by little, the space around him was changing. Paint was losing its vibrant color and peeling off the walls, the white tiles on the floor turning to shades of grey and freely overgrowing with grime. The unwashed smell of sweaty, wild sex was allowed to fill the air, opening the door to numerous, dirty and perverse thoughts that were just waiting for an opportunity to sneak into Quinn's head.

He found himself picturing what those two bearded truckers might have looked like in real life. Somehow not finding it strange at all that his interest was gravitating particularly towards the drawings depicting the most explicit sex scenes. They both had such massive cocks… the one belonging to the beefier trucker was hella thick, but so was the meat of the guy with a huge gut, and it might have been even longer! Quinn let out a moan as his cock started to grow even bigger, pressing uncomfortably against his jeans. 

Ugh, why the fuck was he wearing something so damn tight while on the road? It always felt best to ride in nothing but his jock so he could always whip out his cock whenever he got horny and give hubby a hot show… and since the jockstrap was right there, he would always have something around to wipe up all that cum off his belly too! Suddenly Quinn had the perfect image of a blonde, big bellied trucker with an enormous, matted beard pressing a nasty, yellowed jockstrap straight into his face. He grinned and gave it a snort, then, a moment later, Quinn found himself making that exact same sound, his hand tightly squeezing the bulge sprouting from his crotch. 

Fuck yeah, horny manstink always got him so damn hard! Quinn started to lift his other hand towards his face, he felt something between his fingers… its crusty fabric was soaked with so many  old loads that he could already smell it… his ripe, old jockstrap… suddenly Quinn was pushing his face right into it, taking a deep snort as his faint, weekend's worth of stubble started to grow longer and denser. Already making him look like he hadn't shaved in well over a month, and probably hadn't bothered to comb his shaggy mess of beard in about as long too. 

Oh damn, this manly stink was really getting him going! Quinn was in the process of trying to clumsily undo his belt and get ahold of his cock. But fuck, he needed more! His mouth was opening, the tongue sticking out further and further, something was telling him that he just had to give this rank jock a good lick… he could already almost taste those salty, countless loads spilled into it… but then suddenly Quinn opened his eyes, asking himself just what the fuck he was doing?! He tossed the jockstrap against the wall, pushing the stall door open and bolted outside.

Unfortunately for Leo trying to resist the influence of this place was proving to be far more difficult while asleep. Even despite his dwindling intellect, he could tell that this was no ordinary dream. Everything was too real… the inside of this cab, this hulking, beefy body covered in coarse fur, the way it felt when he squeezed this beer can thick cock that constantly dribbled with pre. He had this sudden urge to give it a taste and once he did, he simply couldn't stop! He was such a horny pig! Constantly beating off and huffing his ripe pits.

Leo was still able to tell that the deeper he sank into this lustful frenzy, the harder it was getting to recall ever doing anything else, ever being anything else than this massive, furry trucker! But who cared? He was so fucking hot now! Leo wasn't able to resist tilting the rear view window towards the cabin so he could see more of himself in the reflection. Getting so damn turned on admiring his broad, meaty chest and caressing the enormous beard that was hanging down from his tough, brutish face. 

Back in the real world, Leo's body was moving in that exact, same fashion. Fingers combing through what was now a full beard, densely covering his cheeks while his other hand tugged on his swelling cock. Somehow Leo knew what was happening to him, that his real self was changing to resemble this burly, constantly horny, hirsute beast of a man but he was powerless to do anything about it. Completely trapped inside this horny wet dream and unable to wake up. 

Even his best efforts amounted to little more than making himself shift from side to side in his seat. Except by now, it was a tall and wide driver's seat of a massive semi truck and with every stroke of his cock, Leo was getting closer to filling it completely with his furry bulk. He knew that the only hope he had left was for Quinn to quickly get back and wake him up before it was too late!

Unfortunately for Leo, his friend was going through a major crisis of his own at that same moment when he ran out of the bathroom stall and saw himself in the mirror. He was so unrecognizable that at first Quinn screamed, thinking that someone else was in here with him, but when it finally sank in that he was looking at himself, he was far too freaked out to make even a peep. His puffy face was completely covered in shaggy, matted hair! The only thing that Quinn could think of was that he must have been having some kind of an allergic reaction because the rest of his body was suddenly so swollen that his normally loosely fitting hoodie was ready to burst at the seams.

Quinn was panicking so much that despite having felt the messy hairs against his fingers, he still refused to accept that such a huge beard could have sprouted all around his mouth just like that. He rushed towards the sink, convinced that it was something he could simply wash off. Turning on the rusty tap and splashing his face in such a hurry that it was only when his beard was completely soaked wet, that Quinn got a good whiff of just how badly this water reeked. 

It was so unbelievably ripe and musky, as if someone made a whole bunch of brawny construction workers wipe themselves with only a single towel after their shift, and then wrung it right above his face. Quinn let out a strained groan as he tried to hold his breath, but it was too late, his chest started to swell so rapidly that it felt like he might suffocate if he didn't pull off his hoodie. Only to find a massive, round gut flopping down onto the sink alongside a pair of fat moobs when he did.

It was just immense and it was still swelling larger and covering in thick, sweaty hair right before his eyes. Quinn’s gaze constantly darting back and forth between it and this massive, unkempt mess of a beard that was now cascading down his chest. Quinn had no idea what to do now, he only knew that somehow, watching it all happen was getting him so unbelievably horned up that he was only moments away from tearing his pants open to whip out his rock hard cock and start beating off.

But then it turned out that he won't even have to wait that long. Suddenly a big, muscled arm covered in thick, dark fur appeared on top of his belly, with another one undoing his belt and grabbing his cock from behind.

“Fuck huz, should have told me ya wanted to stick around cruisin’ for some cocksuckers round here, would have joined ya earlier! Or maybe even taken care of that gigantic schlong myself!”

Quinn moaned when he felt the grip tightening around his meat as the visitor's broad, rough fingers began massaging its entire length. He looked up and saw the gruff face of a hulking trucker brute with a beard almost as massive as his own. After a moment and a closer look Quinn recognized him, and of course he fucking did! It was his husband Leo, the horny pig couldn't even wait till he was done having a piss and had already stomped here with his cock out, wanting to fuck! But that was why Quinn loved that bastard so much, the only man he'd ever met who was as much of a horndog as himself! He grinned and pulled down his pants all the way, opening his hairy ass wide and sliding it onto Leo’s thick, throbbing cock.

“Yeah, give it to me you hot fucker! Yer gonna be tasting that load when ya rim my arse at the next stop!!!”

Wait… why was he saying that… Quinn wanted to tell Leo to stop but instead only kep spewing more dirty, perverted things and encouraging him to fuck him harder. God, that felt so damn good, seeing just how much his gut was turning this beefy trucker on! Leo was moaning even louder than he was when he caressed this furry, swelling beach ball with his meaty paws. Inside, Quinn was still desperately trying to tell his friend that he had to stop, but the only thing leaving his mouth was a horny litany of the dirtiest curse words ordering him to keep going until eventually even he was too turned on to talk at all.

Only grunting wildly as he tugged on his big nips and pushed his ass deeper and deeper onto Leo's beer can thick fuckstick. After all those years they've spent on the road together, fucking multiple times per day, they could both tell without fail just how close the other was to blowing his load. And with how loud and savage Leo's groans were getting, Quinn knew that the huz was already on the edge.

“Do it fucker! Blow that load in my… HNNGHHHHH!!!

He couldn't finish before he felt Leo squeezing his cock as hard as he could take it and jerking it rapidly until it began spewing thick globs of prime trucker spunk all over the floor in front of them. Then thrusting his cock as deep up Quinn's ass as he could before he started cumming as well, completely flooding the big bellied bear's insides. As always, the intensity of the orgasm leaving them heaving and panting loudly, completely dripping with sweat. After Leo slid his cock out, Quinn gathered some of the cum still oozing from its tip onto his tongue and pulled his man into a sloppy kiss, already looking forward to finding out just how much better this load was going to taste after marinating inside his hole until the next truck stop.

If you liked the story and would like to read more bear themed transformation fiction, or have something written for yourselves consider subscribing to my Patreon! This one in particular was a request from two of my subscribers!

I have also set up two extra accounts on twitter and bluesky for caption purposes! https://x.com/burrcapts https://burrcapts.bsky.social/

[former-ghost-of-the-internet]

One Night in Medellín

(Screen shot and image edits done by me)

Summary: Takes place during s2ep5, when Los Pepes first attacks the narcos on the streets of  Medellín. You lose your hearing during a standoff and are dumped at the Search Bloc base. Javi comforts you in the aftermath, finding ways to communicate through your temporary deafness. 

Javier Peña x f reader

Word count: 3526

Rating: 18+ for some dark content in the background. My blog/‘place I keep my reblogs’ is very Mature, so no minors allowed there, sorry.

Warnings: series typical violence, hurt/comfort, soft Javi, tiny bit of your blood, descriptions of panicked reader, generally able-bodied reader, might read as shorter than Javi, only one instance of female clothing for a funny awkward moment, no specific descriptions of reader, hopefully this is fairly inclusive for everyone. No y/n, no smut.

Authors note:   100% bad information on everything medical related in this story. Any cultural inaccuracies are my own fault too. Apologies to Steve Murphy for being the butt of a joke or two. First time writing in second-person. Not American so the spelling will be slightly different.

Please enjoy 😊

....

Medellín nights were always festive, despite one man’s war with the Colombian government. 

You’d had a long but good day, far far away from the UNICEF office and in a little communa church hall, where you and the other doctors and nurses had vaccinated as many children as could be rounded up. Even the abuelitas had rooted out the most stubborn kids, and either guilted them into coming down, or whacked them in the right direction with their walking sticks and shoes, if not open palms on skulls. Each time was a commotion, and to ease hurt childish feelings, you slipped enough pesos into their hands for an ice cream. For the hard-working abuelitas a coffee cart vendor happily provided free coffee, after you had thrown a pretty smile his way and warned him the little old women were worked up enough to be a threat to anyone not on their side. And he absolutely wanted to be on their side. 

With the unused vaccines stored at a major hospital, and saying goodnight to the local doctors who’d been right next to you since sunrise, you’d headed to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant one nurse raved about during one break you’d taken with her, with free coffees, thanks to a sharp glare from the abuelitas, bless their hearts. 

It was further from the city centre than where you’d been told to stay close to at night, but you hoped your very bright UNICEF shirt would offer some protection in the dark. Even your backpack had a big red cross on it. Anything to say you were a doctor, here to help, and absolutely not a threat. 

The restaurant was packed, even the few plastic tables shoved outside were full, and the small waitstaff offered paper plates to take-away, which many people had chosen, and sat on the street curbs to eat, under the yellow streetlights.

At last the line to order, which the waitstaff had banished to wait outside the actual restaurant, had shortened to only you and the two men in front of you. They both carried full gym bags. And as you noticed with a slight chill through your spine, handguns tucked into their belts. They chatted together without a care in the world, as you looked away to make sure you didn’t see their faces, even in low-light. 

You stared up the street to the top of the hill and the man who walked down it with an assured swagger, encased in khaki pants. Like he’d stepped out of the jungle. 

You frowned as he passed under a streetlight. Something about his face was familiar in a bad way. 

He had his focus on the men standing next to you, and in a blink, drew his own handgun out. 

An arm grabbed you around your shoulders, pulling you back into a chest, your backpack falling to the ground. Then the cold metal of a weapon held to your ear. 

Shouts in Spanish between the men, some sort of negotiation happened as you tried to simply breathe. This is what everyone was afraid would happen to you, from the president of Colombia, to your superiors, and your family, down to the Medellín officials and a couple of American DEA agents. They’d all wanted you to stay out of the murder capital of the world. You’d told them no one would target you. The local doctors were still here, so why shouldn’t you? 

Now you were a human shield, not because of your work, but because you were the closest person to grab. You had never considered the possibility of it before this minute. 

The man behind you moved a step back, taking you with him. Except your legs refused to work, staying where you had left them. Another step back, dragging you along, and your legs crumpled underneath you, making you slide down his body at an awkward angle. Enough for the man in khakis to shoot.

The bullet entered his chest right by your ear. All sound stopped and you were falling.  

You landed on a dead man’s chest. On instinct, you curled into yourself and away from everyone, hitting the rough and hard concrete of Medellín’s streets. 

Hands grabbed you and hauled you to your feet, half carrying you to a waiting SUV. First you, then your backpack were bundled into the darkness of the back seat. The dead men’s gym bags also ended up with you. The owner of the hands hopped into the front, and the driver took off.

A hand came back to tap your cheek, grabbing your chin and twisting your head to look up. The accidental light of street-lamps and cars flashed across your view. He smiled at you and his mouth moved as if he was talking.

You frowned and focused on his mouth. None of his words were getting through to you. You blinked hard to try to clear away the fuzziness of the world, but it changed nothing.

His mouth made these exaggerated shapes and his spare hand moved in circles, like a hamster spinning uncontrollably on a wheel. Maybe he was shouting at you.

You blinked again to be sure, and then had to shake your head. You couldn’t hear anything.

He smiled then tapped your ear and gave a thumbs down. You nodded. 

That caused an explosion of arms from him, as he whacked his driver on the shoulder. Looking back at you, he took note of the UNICEF insignia on your shirt, and you realised where you had seen him before. Carlos Castaño. A paramilitary man based in the jungle, fighting communist guerrillas. 

You had met once before. You’d had to get permission from every side, paramilitary commanders, regular military commanders, government officials, and even the guerrilla commanders, before they let you step anywhere near the Amazon. All so you could vaccinate a few children in a communist village.

The communists had been straight-forward to convince, once you talked in their lingo, focusing on healthcare for all. For the others, a bribe that came out of your pocket, another a promise not to get in the way of anything and to get out in under 24 hours. The Castaños you convinced by saying the communists were dirty, potentially disease-ridden plague carriers. If the brothers couldn’t promise you every communist in the jungle dead in three months time, then they had to let you in to vaccinate, so no epidemic could start from their continued existence. 

You hated saying it, and drunk too much later that night to get the sound of it out of your mouth, but it worked. Those kids wouldn’t die from a preventable disease. But you couldn’t save them from a bullet shot by mad, greedy men. 

Carlos smiled at you again, and pointed his driver to take the next left. 

Some minutes later, the car pulled up to the curb.  Carlos turned to you and put a finger over his lips and shushed you. Then he dragged the same finger across his neck and finally pointed it at you. 

You didn’t know what your face was doing at this point, you probably looked like a scared rabbit, all wide eyes and trembling body. Carlos broke and laughed at you, waving you out of the car. You fumbled with the car door, and stumbled onto the dark, damp street, dragging your backpack with you. They sped off into the night as you stumbled with your own weight.

Not far away, in a pool of white light, was a gate-way guarded by Search Bloc officers. Carlos had dumped you, the little lost foreigner, in front of their base. Your legs co-operated long enough to get you to the gate.

The guards stopped you with one hand up and the other resting on their rifles. You raised both hands up, and announced to everyone’s ears but your own, your name and nationality, that your passport was in your bag. The words felt like they slurred coming off your tongue, like they were heavier than usual. You wondered if you made any sense, but one man nodded at you to continue. It took you no time to dig out your passport. 

With a short inspection of your passport, and a torch flashed into your face, the guards waved you through the gate. One of them touched your ear and brought it up to your eyes to show you blood. The other held his radio up to his mouth. 

As you checked your ear for more blood, a police car came from the base, and the guards helped you in. A short ride and you were taken inside the bright building. The lights blinded you, and you tried to cover your eyes, barely seeing the medic ushering you to a bench. 

You kept blinking, like if you could turn off the world for a bit you would be alright again. You’d be able to focus, to think, to speak, to hear. The outside world was right there in front of you, and as much as you tried to reach out, you were locked behind your eyes. 

A warm hand caressed your arm and shoulder, bringing your attention to its owner. Javier Peña. He stared at you with big brown eyes, looking you over better than any doctor. His hand slid down to yours, keeping it safe under his. 

Javi listened to the medic, then his attention went to a nearby officer, and you saw his lips ask a question, his eyes straying to the dark streets beyond the base. You shook your head, grabbing his shoulder with your other hand, pulling his eyes back to yours, shouting out your warning in clumsy sounds you couldn’t quite hear. If you had your way, no one, not even the narcos, would be out on those streets tonight. Especially not him. 

Because Javi cared. No matter what anyone, or even he said. His heart cared for so many people you’d lost count, though he tried to keep it secret from the rest of the world.

And somehow, somewhere, he decided he cared about you too.

Javi nodded, as serious as ever, and cupped your cheek. Message understood. Relieved, you crumple into him, his arm wrapping around you to hold you close. His chest rumbled, maybe talking to you, or maybe to the officer. After a few breaths, he squeezed your hand and tilted your body back to look at him. He nodded towards the stairs. You nodded back and he helped you up, letting you lean against him.

He led you upstairs, past many doors, until he reached one particular darkened room, and ushered you in. You recognised some of Javi’s colourful shirts piled on a chair, and larger piles of Steve’s shoes, pants, and tops, scattered over half the room and one of the two-tier bunk beds.

Javi led you to a small desk, its small lamp draped a soft light over the room, pulled out the chair for you, and poured a glass of whiskey. He made sure you had both of your hands cradling the drink before he let you take the slight weight from him. You sipped a little at the strong drink, watching as he first gathered up his few visible clothes, shoving them in a suitcase, and then collected Steve’s mess, roughly sorting and folding, then at last dumped into a closet.

Javi went to the neater bunk bed, not Steve’s, pulling back the thin covers, inviting you to rest there. But you didn’t move. You just sat there blinking at the world.

He came back to you, dropped to a knee, and untied your shoelaces, gently taking off your shoes. Setting them aside, his eyes looked you over again, and settled on the whiskey in your hands. He pointed at it, and then glanced up at you. It took a second or two before you realised he was asking if you wanted more. You shook your head and moved the glass away from you. Javi plucked the drink out of your hands. He had a quick debate with himself, ended with a short shrug, and then downed the remains.

Putting the glass on the desk, he swallowed again, before catching your gaze with his. He lifted both hands to his chest, cupping them like the air was something heavy he could hold up, and jiggled them up and down. Then he pointed at you and made a gesture like he was swiping a cobweb away. You frowned and he repeated the sequence. This time his cupped hands looked like a bikini top. You still had no idea what he wanted to say.

With a quick lick of his lips, he reached forward and tapped a finger on your bra strap under your top.

Your face heated as you realised his question. Did you want to take your bra off? Yes, you did, and you nodded at him.

Javi joined you in nodding, but then put a finger up, telling you to wait. Another nod from you, and he was on his feet, dragging out his suitcase again, digging to the bottom of it. At last he brought out a khaki green t-shirt, and placed it on the end of the bunk for you. As you got to your feet, he shoved the suitcase away and retreated to the door, closing it behind him.

He could have stayed and turned his back, but maybe Javi thought that was too hard to mime. You change out of everything except your undies, draping it all over the back of the chair, and slipped on the t-shirt.

The door remained shut. It felt colder without him in the room. You rubbed an arm to try to stop your shivers. Was he coming back? Should you wait? Or was this everything you could expect from him? He had done plenty for you.

He’s probably not there. Why would he be? He’s got files to read still, the radio to sit by, informants to call, Steve to rescue, or maybe he’s finding another bunk to sleep on. So long as he stayed on the base it would be fine. He would be fine.

The hallway is empty. It has to be. You were on your own, you just had to be alright with that. And you would be. Eventually.

It would take time but you would be good again.

You huddled into yourself, your eyes dropping to the ground, as you tried to make your heart understand that Javi had done enough for you tonight. Then you saw the shadow under the door, like something was behind it. Your hand was on the knob before your brain could think.

Javi twisted his body to face you. He had stood guard on your door as you changed. The worried look over his features seems to be a permanent guest this evening.

Your eyes must have said please come back, as he maneuvered you inside with a gentle hand above your elbow, and followed, closing the door again. He sat you down on his bunk bed, and then further down to lie on your back.

He rubbed your arms a few times, slow and comforting, staring at you for a while. At last one hand came up to cup your cheek and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You nuzzled closer, his mustache tickling your skin. Your heart, mind, and body called out for Javi to stay. Nothing else would help you, could soothe your tremors, calm you and find yourself again, like being close to him.

Javi drew back, and your hand shot out to grab his arm, gripped tight so he couldn’t leave you.

His hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb soothing over the slight hurt he’d caused.

When your breathing eased, you pointed at him and then at the bunk below you.

Javi looked over his shoulder at the door, like he was saying he would find another place to sleep, but that wasn’t what you meant.

You jostled his shoulder to get his attention once more, pointed forcefully first at him then at your bunk. Not another bed, this one. With you. This time he understood. His eyes flicked from place to place, your bunk and then Steve’s bunk, even down at his shoes as he thought of something, and then he nodded.

You were shuffling to make room for him when he stopped you. Javi pointed at you then covered his eyes with a hand. He wanted you to keep your eyes closed, so he could get comfy too. But it meant you’d be down another sense. No sight and no sound. The world would be even further from you.

His eyes begged you to trust him. You took a few deliberate breaths, and he waited for you, watching for any sign of major distress. At last, you nodded and used both hands over your eyes to show you weren’t peeking.

In your darkness and quiet, the only company you had was the bunk under you and Javi’s weight next to your thigh. You could smell his aftershave and cigarette smoke, not overpowering, but most definitely there with you, and not leaving anytime soon. Nice and comforting and him. You took deep breaths of it.

He shifted his weight forward, one way then another. Shoes, you guessed. He came back to you, and did a short wiggle. Something landed next to your arm, soft and warm. His shirt.

Javi’s weight left the bunk completely. Panic made your muscles clench, and you forced your hands down into your eyes, trying to glue them in place, and breathed as best you could.

Something rougher and stiffer and warm landed on top of his shirt. Jeans? He was still here.

You waited a long, long moment for something more to happen.

Two fingers tapped the back of your hand. A deliberate action, purposeful, a message to you. Safe to look now. You drew your hands away and saw Javi standing next to the bunk in a pair of white boxers, folding his shirt and jeans away in his suitcase. He leaned over and placed a quick kiss on your forehead. A thank-you for your bravery.

He left before you could catch him, going to the bottom end of Steve’s bunk, lifting it up and closer to your bunk. He repeated with the top end, and you got to your knees, reaching over to grab the metal frame and pulled it in snug next to yours.

Javi, the genius man that he is, had just created a queen-sized bunk bed. Room enough for your body and his broad shoulders.

You watched as Javi climbed into his side, wondering how he wanted to sleep, when he draped his arm over to you, hugging you to lay snug against his side, your head resting on his bare chest, one of your arms across his waist. He fussed with the covers for a moment or two, making sure most of your body was underneath it.

He was warm and smooth and solid. Safe. At last. You breathed in deeply, his unique scent filling your nose, and then let it go. Another in, and out again.

Your heart had settled. The world was as far away as it needed to be right now. Or perhaps the world was as small as this room, as this bunk. This man. Your arms around him, and his around you.

If your eyes closed tonight, Javi would be there, under your touch.

One more thing left to do. You shifted to look into his eyes. They were filled with concern, until you whispered your thanks to his ears alone. Even a tiny smile on his lips crinkled the corners of his eyes. You couldn’t stop yourself from planting a kiss to his cheek. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, and he nuzzled his nose against yours as soon as your lips left his skin, then moved up to your forehead, kissing it again.

Those brown eyes locked with yours for a moment, before he closed his eyelids, and then opened them quickly and nodded at you.

He wanted you to close your eyes. So you did. You felt Javi lean in closer still, and then his lips placed a kiss first on one eyelid, then the other.

Opening your eyes, you pressed your forehead to his, and moved your hand from his chest, to soothe over his jaw, his chin, then trace over his lips. You wanted to kiss him there. And from the glint in his brown eyes, he wanted it too.

But it wasn’t the right time. Both of you knew it. Besides, you wanted to hear him.

Javi’s lips twitched into a soft grin as if he heard your last thought. His mouth formed words, slow but firm. Three short words. Then he settled you back down onto his warm chest.

You felt Javi’s heartbeat against your cheek, counted its beat without numbers, let its languid pace lull you further towards sleep, until at last your eyes closed with the peace he gave you.

And in your dreams Javi’s heartbeat was your world.

....

Thank you for reading!!!!!!!!!!!!

[mistriavalley]

Telling Shane about the Junimos

Gender neutral

TW: established relationship, mentions of drug consume (it was just a potion from the wizard), mentions of alcohol

Masterlist

It's no secret that Shane doesn't believe in magic or anything that hasn't been backed by science

You on the other hand are over here fighting all sorts of monsters while helping a bunch of round forest spirits to rebuild the community center and seeking advice from the local wizard. Your hands are full with all the stuff that hasn't been proven by scientists yet

Obviously Shane doesn't think much of the strange items you bring to the community center or the amount of times you ran to the tower in the west with a poisonous mushroom. So what if you need a Bream for the broken down house in the town? It's just your way of fixing things...apparently

The two of you had that talk so many times where you ask him if he's absolutely sure that he doesn't believe at least a little bit in magic

"Nope."

One day you decide to take him to the community center to show him what exactly you're doing there. Of course he won't see the Junimos, but maybe he will be convinced by the item lists they need from you and the boxes where you put said items inside

But to him the letters look like scribbles of either a madman or a toddler that hasn't learned how to write yet and the boxes where you put the items in are...well they must be your doing, right?

He doesn't know how to react to your frantic explanation about some spirits that look like apples. The old Shane would have told you off and walked away, but you're very important to him and the new Shane doesn't wanna hurt your feelings in any way or at least tries to avoid it

"You did all these things for the community center? Wow. You're doing great."

The tone in his voice makes it more than crystal clear that he doesn't believe a word you said. It's frustrating, but he'll see

"Do you trust me, Shane?"

"Uh..."

He looks around the place. He always knew you were a bit quirky, but now he's pretty sure he's apparently dating a second Emily

"I want to open your eyes."

He blinks a few times

"Sure?"

That's all you need to hear to grab his hand and lead him towards cindersap forest

Shane's mind is racing and he has no clue what to expect. The expression on your face is so serious that it's almost scary. What do you plan on doing with him inside the goddamn woods of all places? Will you perhaps sacrifice him? Hah! What a ridiculous thought! And even if. At least it would be happening by the hands of his hot significant other

You lead him up some stairs towards no other place than the tower. It's taller from up close. Shane had looked at it many times from the ranch, but only the tip of the roof is visible from that distance

But is this really happening? Is he seriously going to meet that crazy dude who lives on the border of Pelican Town? Shane doesn't know if he should feel worried or excited. He never particularly cared for that guy or what his business here is so it's difficult to say

Once you two take a step through the wooden front door, Shane is being hit by an earthy smell. This place smells more of the forest than the forest itself. The room wasn't particularly big and it lacked furniture. The big, colorful sigil on the floor is the first thing that catches his attention

Inside the alien looking symbol stands a man with a thick, purple beard and black clothes. The man's eyes light up at the sight of you, but it's immediately being replaced by a frown once his gaze meets Shane's

You pull the stranger aside and started a hushed, but heated discussion with him. Shane feels out of place with his worn out joja sweater and old cargo shorts. Everything here is so mystical and Shane is...well, he is Shane

The sound of a cough rips him out of his thoughts and his legs seem to be moving by themselves as the purple man waves him over to an enormous cauldron. The reassuring smile on your face is the only thing that keeps him sane at the moment

A cup filled with a bubbling, green liquid finds its way into his hands and he just stares at it for a long time, unsure about what to do now

"Drink it."

"Hold up, buddy! You want me to do what exactly?"

Shane has mentally prepared himself to be sacrificed by his partner (for some reason) and not by some old guy who smells like he uses dirt as deodorant

You gently put a hand on his shoulder and plant a kiss on his cheek

"Nothing bad will happen to you. You have my word. I had to drink it too in the beginning."

Okay, so nothing bad will happen, but something definitely will happen to him. Cool. Yea.

"Just pretend it's beer, Shane. Alright. Bottoms up."

The moment the liquid touches his tongue he feels the strong urge to spit it all out onto the floor. It tastes of donkey ass or at least that's what he imagines it to taste like, but it's not that what he should be concerned about

Almost right after thag horrible experience, an explosion of colors hits him and what the fuck? Are those trees flying around him? His knees cave in and he plops down onto the hard floor. By Yoba. Not even Gus' strongest hits like this

Thankfully this odd feeling vanishes as quickly as it came

"Did you fucking drug me?"

"It was a potion."

"That doesn't answer my goddamn question!"

You tell him that it was no drug and that this will help him read the letters and see the spirits. Since he doesn't have a natural connection to nature like you do you had to ask Rasmodius to change the potion a little bit

"I'm so sorry. I should have warned you, but he told me you won't feel any side effects like I did."

"No, don't worry. I'm not mad at you."

But the wizard on the other hand shouldn't show himself around these parts

It doesn't take long for you guys to leave the tower and it feels like as if something is being lifted from Shane's shoulders the more distance he puts between himself and that place

"How do you feel?"

"Fine? I think? I keep expecting to fall over and die though."

"Noooo! That won't happen."

He doesn't want to imagine what the guy put in that so called "potion" of his. Raccoon shit? Poisonous berries? Worms? He shivers at the thought

Once again Shane finds himself inside the old community center with you and once again nothing looks out of the ordinary. Well, except for the dead fish that are piled up in the corner

But then he spots something in the far corner and rubs his eyes. It's gone. Ah, that was probably just a trick of the light

You startle him by holding up one of the letters infront of his face and...wait a minute. Where are the unreadable scribbles? Why can he read the writing now? Shane shakes his head violently. You must have exchanged the letters, but when? You hadn't left his side at all today

He goes through every room, reads every letter and checks every single box. The content of the boxes fit. So you actually do have a system here even though he can't find a sense in it

Then he hears a noise echoing through the hallway to the right

"What was that?"

"A Junimo."

For the first time since forever he finds himself praying to Yoba. He has gone mad. The "wizard" has made him mad with the raccoon shit drink

Shane bolts out of the house and stumbles back home. Back to the ranch. Part of him is trying to drag him towards the saloon to drown the madness in beer, but he can't drink now. He needs to think

After this incident you don't see him for a whole week. Every now and then you do spot him in town, on his way to work, but decide not to approach him. Obviously he's avoiding you right now and you don't want to push things. He had gone through a lot now and probably just needs the space. It still worries you

A week later someone knocks at your front door right as you were about to hop into bed. Shane is standing there, looking more tired and exhausted than ever. You feel the familiar sting of guilt in your chest

"Can we talk?"

Without saying a word, you step aside to let him in. Both of you sit down in the living room infront of the still glowing fireplace. A comfortable heat eminates from it

"You weren't kidding when you said you'd open my eyes."

"I'm sorry."

"No. Don't be. I mean it kinda sucked, yea."

An unbearable silence stretches on. This moment is like torture to you. You have no idea what to expect. Is he angry? Is he sad? Will he break up with you now? You banish these thoughts before your mind can wander any further

"Thanks."

Wait what? That came...unexpected

"But I only thank you. Not that wizard dude in that shitty tower with his raccoon shit potions. I guess...I guess I needed something like this. I needed to know that we're not alone in this world. It's kinda comforting in a way."

You throw your arms around him, relieved that he doesn't hate you. It also feels like a burden has been lifted from you, because now you don't have to keep these things to yourself. Now you have someone to talk to

"I'm free tomorrow. We could go through the lists in the center together maybe and see what we can do."

"Shane..."

"Stop. No. Don't. Don't get all soft on me and shit. This is still super fucking weird."

"Oh."

"Yea! Like why the fuck do these spirits need raw fish? How the fuck do you repair a building with dead fish?"

"OH!"

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty One: Coming Home

Plot: Loose ends are tied up and big changes come after Richmond’s victory.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: language, mention of parental neglect/abuse, mention of alcohol, one suggestive line

A/N: Well, we have arrived at the end! I definitely intended to be done a long time ago, but life had other plans lol. Thanks to everyone who came along on this ride I had no intention of taking. I hope you enjoyed it!! MERRY CHRISTMAS AND GO RICHMOND!!! 💙❤️💛🎄❄️🎅🏻

————

In the afterglow of Richmond’s big win, there was a sadness that couldn’t be ignored, and it came in the form of a Boeing 747.

The day of his and Beard’s departure, Ted exited his apartment for the last time. He took a reflective breath and knocked his knuckles against the wood before turning away. As always, his assistant coach was waiting for him nearby.

The two men walked through Richmond for the last time, a few locals wishing them well as they left. When they made it to the curb, they spotted a familiar face.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Ted smiled.

Y/n shrugged from her place on the bench. “I figured you’ve done so many coffee runs at the office,” she held up two cups, “I’d return the favor.”

Ted and Beard moseyed over, Y/n stood and handed them the cups.

“And maybe I wanted to say goodbye,” Y/n smiled, “Just one more time.”

“Well, I won’t say no to that,” Ted replied, waiting for Y/n to retrieve her own cup so the three could toast. When he took a sip, he coughed. “What exactly is this?”

“An Americano,” Y/n answered.

Ted cleared his throat of the strong taste before he paused, realizing the joke. “The three Americanos.”

Y/n smiled, “Bingo.”

“Aw, hell, that’s too good,” Ted said proudly, “I’ll push through.”

Beard touched his chest. “You’ve come so far.”

“Well,” Y/n sighed, “If you guys have to go, I’m making sure it’s on a high note.”

“That’s right,” Ted smiled, “You and Jamie got any plans for the break?”

“Yeah, actually, Nike wants him to do this shoot in Brazil,” Y/n answered, Jamie’d only sprung the news on her last night, “We’ve gotta get down in a few weeks.”

Ted and Beard both let out suggestive ‘oohs’ that gave Y/n a laugh.

“Watch you back, Dave and Posh,” Ted teased, “There’s a new power couple on the pitch.”

As much as she wanted to deny it, there was something in Y/n’s gut that told her Ted wasn’t wrong. Since their kiss after Richmond’s win, Jamie and Y/n had been flooded by requests for interviews. Paparazzi and fan sightings were abundant. Even then, at the buttcrack of morning, Y/n spotted two teen girls whispering and pointing in her direction, no doubt debating if that really was Jamie Tartt’s girlfriend. It was new territory, but they were rising to the occasion. The footballer and the PR girl.

“Just promise us good seats at the wedding,” Ted continued, “Don’t be bumpin’ us just ‘cause Ronaldo and Messi show us.”

“How ‘bout we hug?” Y/n quickly changed the subject. Baby steps was the key to her staying happy with Jamie. “Let’s hug.”

Ted and Beard laughed before they all piled in a group embrace. The three of them had become a team of sorts, being the only Americans, and it was a bond Y/n was sad to see go. The only thing that comforted her was that Ted and Beard meant so much to Richmond, it certainly wouldn’t be the last they saw of one another.

“Alright,” Y/n said when she felt the tears begin to form, “You two get out of here. The plane’s not gonna wait for two dumb Americans.”

Ted laughed, patted Y/n on the back and pulled back to look proudly at her. “You take care, Y/n.”

Y/n’s smile was watery and full of unspoken gratitude, “You too.”

Beard spotted Y/n one more hug, seemingly needing it more than she did. “Bye, Y/n.”

“Bye, Beard.”

Finally, the three of them separated and Ted and Beard flagged down a coming cab. When they had loaded their luggage, Ted turned back one last time and gave Y/n a wave. She returned it, finally letting the tears fall down her contradicting smile.

Ted had done more for Richmond than anyone ever had. But more importantly, he had changed the people that made the Greyhounds who they were. No one would ever be the same after Ted Lasso’s reign. And that, Y/n concluded as the cab drove off, was a beautiful thing.

—————————

Post-victory, Richmond was still residing in its usual chaos.

When Y/n came into the office, taking care of a few post-season items with Higgins and Rebecca, and saw Beard in the hall, she was surprised but ecstatic. It was good for both of them to have some semblance of home.

Then came the announcement that Roy would be promoted to head coach, with Beard and Nate as the assistants. It seemed only natural for him to take over. Everyone was glad they didn’t have to adjust to someone new. And it was good territory for Roy to step into a leadership role. He was coming into his own in this new stage of life.

KJPR became KBPR as Keeley and Barbara officially went into business with one another. At first, Keeley had worried that Y/n may feel slighted. After all, she had done so much to help when Keeley was still getting her bearings. It ended up being quite the opposite. With Barbara as partner, Y/n could return back to Richmond, something she was thrilled about. The three women continued to work in total harmony.

Rebecca had even made some changes in her life. Under circumstances Y/n and Keeley were promised to hear about eventually, she had run into her mystery Dutchman and the two had started going out. It did everyone good to see Rebecca so happy. She deserved it.

Y/n and Jamie weren’t the only couple having the handle a mess of PR after the match. Colin had unofficially come out after kissing his boyfriend, Michael, on the pitch. Journalists, both honest and sleazy, were hounding the both of them. The day it stopped was the day they got cocky enough to trespass on Colin’s property. They were unaware that his publicist was present, and Y/n took a great deal of joy in coming around the side of the house with the gardening hose and spraying them all away. Needless to say, Colin felt extremely protected with her as his first line of defense.

Jamie and Y/n stayed the same, sickeningly in love with one another and growing more so by the day. Just after Roy was announced as head coach, they were booked to fly out to Brazil. Somehow Roy and Keeley, separately, had roped themselves in to coming as well.

“Our first trip away together,” Jamie lamented as they were packing at Y/n’s apartment, “And the old fart latches on.”

Y/n was across the room, grabbing a stack of t-shirts from her dresser. “That’s a horrible thing to call Keeley.” She laughed as Jamie flashed her a glare, “I can’t wait till you stop acting like you’re mad about this.”

“I am mad about this,” Jamie insisted.

“And the minute we’re all there, you two’ll be inseparable,” Y/n crossed the space to the bed, where Jamie and his suitcase sat, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be lucky if I get two minutes with you.”

Jamie scoffed, even though he knew there was truth to it. He could no longer deny him and Roy hated one another. Instead, he put his energy into rifling through his girlfriend’s suitcase.

“Jamie, I just got that organized,” Y/n whined, “What are you doing?”

“I’m thinning it out,” he answered, throwing item after item out onto the bedspread, “You don’t need half of this.”

Once he was done, Y/n looked into the square, there was very little. “Three bathing suits and underwear?”

“Yeah,” Jamie said deadpan before smirking, “All you need.”

Jamie pressed a kiss behind Y/n’s ear and wandered out of the bedroom. She was left laughing and undoing his handiwork. She was in the middle of repacking her pajamas when her cell phone rang from her nightstand.

“Jamie,” she called out, “Could you grab my phone?”

“Hang on,” Jamie yelled from the living room, “Phone’s ringing.”

Y/n sighed and went to collect her mobile herself. She glanced at the caller ID.

Dad

Time itself seemed to stop and Y/n was immobilized. It had been a month since Manchester when she’d been brave and called her parents. Not a word from either of them. It had been so easy to have courage in her rush of adrenaline, consumed by confidence and prepared to knock any obstacle down to get back to Richmond.

Now…she didn’t know what to do.

The little voice in her head that sounded much like the her in Manchester said to pick up.

Just before the last ring sounded, Y/n swiped across her screen and started the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, uh…” Y/n’s dad stammered, “Hi, honey.”

“Hi,” she repeated.

“Hi.”

The two fell silent.

“Um…how-how are you?” Y/n was the first to ask.

“Oh, fine. Fine…yeah, we’re uh, we’re okay. How are you?”

Y/n wiped her hand across her jeans, beginning to wander the room like a Roomba. “Uh, I’m good. Decent. I, uh, I’m packing right now.”

“Oh, are you moving?”

“No, no. I’m, uh, I’m going on a trip with some friends and my uh…my boyfriend.”

Her dad didn’t seem to be phased. “Yeah, I heard something about that. I mean, I read it. You’re making headlines over here.”

Y/n stopped, “I am?”

“Well, it’s not front page or anything,” he corrected himself, “But there’s a few. That Tartt fellow seems like a hell of a player.”

“He is,” Y/n smiled, “He’s a great guy.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” her dad finished before another pause hit them. “Listen, I, uh, I wanted to call…well, I wanted to call sooner but…I wasn’t quite sure what to say.”

Disappointment began to settle in Y/n’s gut. It felt like there was some lame excuse coming. “Yeah, well…I didn’t exactly send a Hallmark greeting.”

“No, you didn’t do anything,” her dad quick addended, “I just wasn’t sure how to…how to speak to what you said because…it was so true.”

Suddenly everything became shaky, including her original message. “It was?”

“Of course. It was…painfully true. And I didn’t know what the right thing to say was and then when I felt like I did I was still worried it would be the wrong one and so…”

Another pause.

“Your mom and I, we, uh, we got into therapy,” Y/n’s dad continued.

Now that surprised her. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, there were a lot of reasons. Nothing we did to one another, just…things from before you and Caylee were born. But mostly we, uh…we talked about how we raised you girls and all the areas we…could have done better.”

Y/n stayed silent, shocked into submission.

“And it’s been really helpful…and very….difficult.”

Y/n sighed, slightly annnoyed, feeling like her father was about to make the conversation about himself. “Yeah, well, I’ve heard therapy’s hard.”

“Not in the way you’d think,” her dad continued, “It’s been hard to…come to terms with what me and your mother did to you and Caylee.”

Now this was an entirely different kind of surprise. Y/n sunk onto her bed.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. We…I…I don’t even know where to start, but we’ve…we were a mess. A complete mess and we took it out on you girls.”

“I think…” Y/n drew a breath, “Taking it out on us would have been preferable.”

Her dad drew the same breath. “We ignored you girls. We left you to your own devices. We didn’t…we didn’t bond with you or support you in any way. Not the ways you needed at least. I think we thought if we were keeping a roof over your heads and keeping you alive, we were doing something right, but…that was nothing compared to what we didn’t do for you. What we kept from you.”

On opposite sides of the world, on different continents, separated by a great big ocean, father and daughter both began to shed tears.

“And I’m so sorry, honey,” Y/n’s dad’s voice wavered. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/n’s breath trembled, these were the words she’d longed to hear since she could recognize the problems in her family.

“Your phone call…it woke me and your mom up to a lot of things I think we’d known for years,” he went on, his voice a bit stronger now. “That we had the greatest girls given to us…and we didn’t care for you the way we should have.”

“Nothing you said was untrue, honey. And I’m glad you said it. You needed it and we needed to hear it. We needed to be woken up.”

Y/n sniffled trying to hold in the sobs she wanted to let go.

“And I can’t tell you how proud I am of you,” he audibly smiled through the phone, “Of the woman you’ve grown up to be and the life you’ve built for yourself. I think despite all the odds, you became the best version of yourself you could be.”

Y/n chuckled, a fresh batch of tears falling. “I love it.”

“I’ll bet you do,” her dad laughed, “I watched Richmond’s last game. It was a corker. And then to see you on the field…”

The two laughed in unison.

“That would be how I ended up in the headlines,” Y/n wiped her eyes.

“Mmm, I don’t think love’s a bad way to make headlines.”

Y/n had yet to say anything about loving Jamie, and yet her father already knew. Their moment on the pitch spoke for itself.

“So…you’re the only one that feels guilty?” Y/n finally asked.

“No,” her dad switched gears, “No, she’s actually at a session right now. I think she’s still a little nervous about making a call, but she wants to…she’s just trying to figure out what to say.”

“Tell her just to get really sad and really in love and pick up the phone,” Y/n suggested her method, “It’s easy.”

Her father laughed heartily, a sound Y/n was never really privy to as a child. It was so joyous, so full and round, it made her laugh as well.

“I hope it’s not too late to say it, but…” Y/n’s dad paused, “I really do love you, honey. And I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job of it.”

Y/n smiled, her eyes glazing oer with tears.

“And if you’ll let me and your mom…we’ll spend the rest of our lives trying to make up for all those years we were selfish.”

If she were a more vindictive person, Y/n would clutch the grudge in her palms and reject the offer. She’d tell her dad to go fuck himself and that no amount of time would ever make up for what was lost. But Richmond had softened her edges and rounded her out to be a more forgiving person. She’d learned from Ted and all his little life lessons on kindness he dropped. She’d learned from Rebecca, moving on and becoming the bigger person in the aftermath of her divorce. She’d learned from Jamie, who had done a complete 180 in his life and become one of the best people she knew. If he could forgive her for everything she’d put him through, how could she not pass it on to someone else?

“Yeah,” she answered, “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

Her dad took a quivering breath, full of emotion.

“But mom’s gonna have to do some groveling too,” Y/n joked.

“Oh, she’ll do it,” her dad agreed, “Probably even more than me. But she’ll do it as many times as necessary.”

The two of them stopped again, unsure of where to go from where they were.

“If you’re okay with it, eventually…we’d love to come out and see you. See this great big beautiful life you’ve built for yourself.”

It was an offer/request beyond what Y/n thought she’d ever get from her dad. Beyond what she ever thought possible for their family.

“Or maybe you could come home,” her dad suggested, just in case he’d pushed her forgiveness too far. “For a long weekend or something. Maybe in between games. Caylee came out last week.”

Her sister had failed to mention that piece of information. “She did?”

“Yeah.”

“She didn’t tell me.”

“Well, we kind of had the same talk. I think you and your sister share the same set of balls. She read us the riot act too.”

Caylee had never shied away from.…anything. She was the first of the sisters to put their upbringing behind them, to carve out a new life for themselves. It wasn’t surprising at all that she’d beaten Y/n to the punch of their parents.

“I think she wanted to wait to see how our talk went before she talked to you,” Y/n’s dad added.

“How’d that go?”

“Good,” her dad smiled, “Really well. Horrible, and then really great.”

Y/n smiled, looking down at her lap. “Yeah, I think I’d like both those things. Maybe I could bring you guys to a game.”

“Oh, we’d love that. We’d really love that. Is that American guy still coaching?”

“No, he left a few weeks ago,” Y/n answered.

“Huh, that’s a shame. Maybe I could jump in, give the guys some pointers.”

Y/n chuckled, “Oh, they’d love that.”

“Listen, I don’t wanna push my luck, so I’ll let you get back to packing,” her dad began to close the conversation, “Maybe we can talk more after you get back from your trip.”

He was right, it was a good place to stop. “Yeah, I’d like that. And if Mom calls, I promise I’ll let her grovel.”

“Attagirl,” her dad chuckled, “I love you, honey.”

Y/n smiled tearfully, the words she’d longed to hear all her life. Suddenly, it seemed so wasy to return them.

“I love you too, Dad.”

“Talk soon.”

“Bye.”

And with one click of a button, it was over.

Y/n felt stuck to her bed, nailed to it more like. All her life, she’d imagined screaming and yelling at her parents and it ending with them in tears as well, apologizing in spades to her and asking for them to forgive her. Her daydream had come true, though nothing like she’d thought it would. She was still, she was silent, and her father was more eloquent and composed. But both were filled to the brim with emotion. Somehow, it had all worked out better than she’d wanted.

Her family was coming back to her. The whole dang thing.

Y/n sprang to her feet, needing to word vomit the news onto someone. Jamie was closest. He was a good choice.

“Jamie,” she called, “Jamie.”

As she enterd into the living room. Jamie sported the same stunned expression she did. Had he heard the call?

They met in the middle of the room, each holding their own space. Each holding their cell phones.

“Who was that?” Y/n asked.

The words floated out of Jamie’s mouth slowly. “That was me dad.”

Y/n’s eyebrows dropped, along with her jaw. “Your dad?”

“Yeah,” Jamie breathed, his eyes flicking to Y/n’s phone, “Who was that?”

“That was my dad,” Y/n answered.

“Your dad?” Jamie echoed.

“Yeah.”

“What’d he say?”

“He wants to come see me. Him and my mom.”

“They do?”

“Yeah.”

Jamie’s face soured somewhat with apprehension. “And…what do you think?”

There was so much news to process. Still, Y/n’s purest emotions won out. Her lips quirked upwards, “I think I feel good. Really good.”

Jamie managed a distracted smile, “Good.”

Y/n shifted focus away from her. “What did your dad say?”

“He, uh,” Jamie breathed, “He’s in rehab, I guess. Wanted to call and congratulate me on the win. Wants me to come and see him.”

Y/n’s eyebrows shot up, “Whoa.”

“Yeah,” Jamie said.

“How do you feel about that?”

He blew out a huff of air. Jamie had just as many complicated feelings on his dad, if not more, than Y/n. And yet this time, there was some sort of peace that told Jamie this was alright.

“I think I feel good.”

“That’s good,” Y/n exhaled, “Do you want me to come with?”

“No,” Jamie quickly said, “I don’t want you near him till I…till I make sure it’s real this time.”

Y/n wasn’t about to start arguing with him. “Okay.”

The two of them finally looked at one another, well and truly, and saw each other transformed. If Richmond was one piece of what Y/n and Jamie were made up of, their relationship the other, their jobs the third, there’d been a missing fourth piece, empty and void of any love, for years. Suddenly, with but a drop filling it, there was new life in both of them. They stood a chance at becoming complete.

They fell into one another’s arms, wrapping around one another in hopes they could hold each other together. This was the beginning of something truly beautiful for both of them.

In the weeks and months that followed, after the trip to Brazil, things began to bloom. Jamie did go and visit his father, coming back with a genuine smile on his face. Y/n didn’t push, but Jamie felt confident that his father was making progress and that maybe, just maybe…they could form a relationship.

Y/n’s mom did indeed call, groveling and weeping over how poorly she’d treated her daughter. Y/n was there to accept every apology and cry with her. It was the best conversation they’d had in years. Her parents and Caylee jumped on for their first three-way call ever. Y/n made plans to come back home for Thanksgiving, and her parents and Caylee promised to fly to London for Christmas. It was the first holiday season they’d be spending together since high school. They were all counting the days down.

A few months after the season started for Richmond, Beard and his very pregnant girlfriend, Jane, announced they were getting married. The whole Richmond clan gathered together at Stonehenge for the event. It was strange, in keeping with their relationship, but full of love.

Eventually, Keeley came to Y/n with a business proposal. She had an inkling of an idea that she wantd to bring to Rebecca. But she wanted to give Y/n the opportunity to help her with it. The second she read the idea, Y/n was floored, and immediately onboard. Together, the two of them proposed a Richmond women’s league to their boss. It was an unflinching yes.

“But I have a condition,” Rebecca said before pointing to Y/n, “I want you to oversee it.”

Y/n blinked, “What?”

“I think you have a great deal of untapped potential,” Rebecca smiled, “And I think you’d make an incredible football club owner.”

“I-I…there’s no way. Unless you’re selling the team and I-“

“Nonsense,” Rebecca shrugged, “You bought a share, didn’t you?”

Rebecca had decided against selling the team off entirely, instead giving Richmond fans the opportunity to buy shares of the club.

“Well, yeah, I own like…half of a half of a percent.”

“Consider that your purchase,” Rebecca looked to Keeley, “What do you say? Is it okay if I poach one of your employees?”

Keeley was beaming from beside Y/n, “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Y/n wasn’t sure what was happening or how it was happening so fast. It felt eerily similar to a year prior in a London restaurant.

“What do you say?” Rebecca smiled, “Do you want to run a football club?”

Despite her shock, it was one of the easiest yesses she’d ever given.

Jamie had been thrilled, obviously, spinning Y/n around his house when she’d told him the news. One of Jamie’s biggest fears was losing all the good things in his life. Even though he knew him and Y/n were solid, a job like that was guarantee that neither of them would be leaving Richmond for a very long time.

All was well, no, all was better than well, for the Greyhounds. Sam’s restaurant flourished, Nate brought his girlfriend round finally to be introduced to his work family, Keeley and Roy began skirting the borders of exploring the possibility of maybe getting back together…all was as it should be.

Y/n was nearly in tears contemplating the beauty that was her life one night as Jamie drove them back to her place. Higgins’ and his family hosted the team barbecue that month at their home and the whole staff had shown up. Keeley, Roy, Jamie and Y/n had stayed in a huddle most of the night, laughing and talking as if they’d been family all their lives, which it was starting to feel like. Everything, from the smallest detail to the biggest, felt perfect.

“Hey, babe, what’s on the schedule for Friday night?” Jamie asked as they climbed the stairs into Y/n’s home. He was a few steps behind her. “Colin and Mike want to do a double date. I didn’t know if-“

He was rudely interrupted by Y/n smashing her lips against his. Jamie adjusted quickly and sunk into the kiss with her.

After Y/n pulled back, Jamie admired her. “What was that for?”

There were ten different answers she could have given him. For knocking into her that first day of work. For sitting down with her that night at the pub. For being the steadiest presence in her life. For forgiving her when she broke his heart. For supporting her and supporting her and supporting her. For adding to her happiness in a way nobody else could.

But instead, she shrugged and smiled. “No reason at all.”

And for the first time in her life, Y/n was truly, wholly happy.

———————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

[lilacxquartz]

PRETTY LITTLE TRINKET

harpy shoko ieiri x reader

plot: while lost at sea, you find yourself saved by a monster yet unable to leave — themes: yandere shoko, monster/human romance, f!reader, time period: early 1900s, alternate universe: mythical creatures

chapter 1 of 5 • next chapter > • main masterlist • ao3

1. Bon Voyage

If you were being completely honest, then you weren’t quite too sure as to why you took on this job in the first place. Perhaps you were just… desperate enough to escape from home. The prospect of working didn’t seem all too terrible if it meant not being cooped up indoors anymore, especially with the threat of an arranged marriage looming just around the corner.

The problem was, however, that very few vacancies had accepted women. That was the most frustrating part about this whole ordeal as you were forced to search a little further than you would have liked. Realistically speaking, the big city was your best bet since they let just about everyone work there now. Before you set out though, your mother tried again and again to talk you out of such, in her eyes ‘troubling’ prospects, pleading with you to reconsider. Perhaps it wasn’t a case of her not wanting for you to explore the world, maybe she had her dreams to do such a thing too—if even just vicariously, but the world she knew was an unforgiving one and it would kill her to see you get hurt.

You understood that sentiment perfectly well, but you also didn’t care. If this was your only given life then what fun was there in obeying the norm when you had the opportunity to potentially defy it?

What fun was it, after all, to spend all of your remaining years left on this earth playing the role of a devoted housewife when there was so much to see of the world?

You wanted to experience it all.

You wanted to live.

You supposed that’s what did it, then. When you found the open vacancy that sought to fill out the role of a crew member aboard an embargo ship, it was almost like a sign for you. The positon itself was buried underneath all sorts of ads in the local paper and the salary wasn’t otherwise too different from what was offered in the city, but it was a place to work with both room and board.

The captain, who upon seeing the almost desperate and sheltered look that was apparent on your face could have abused his role when taking you on, but he never did. Supposedly, you reminded him of his late daughter who he had lost to the winter sickness, so from the goodness of his own heart, whether you were qualified or not, he took you in. The two of you both got on very well too and soon enough, the ship began to feel like a second home.

The work itself wasn’t too bad either, although it was exhausting at times. Since the ship was a cargo vessel, it meant that a lot of the ‘travel’ was linear as it cruised from one harbour to the other. However, sometimes, during the less busy seasons, the ship would at times sail towards the more leisurely spots. You’d dock together as part of the crew and the captain would personally direct you to all sorts of activities and delicacies alike—perhaps it would have been things his late daughter would have liked—but you didn’t quite mind at all, the two of you, helped each other heal in one way or another.

In a way, regardless, you were seeing the world as you had intended to do so from the very beginning. You were happy, even, with your place in life for the first time in forever to such an extent that you refused to go home—hoping to continue this sort of life for as long as you could help it.

However, what with the sea being a surely unforgiving place; it seemed that fate had a different sort of plan in store for you. It was a dark and stormy night, a setting that wasn’t all too unfamiliar when sailing through the murky depths. The ocean was seldom forgiving and that one particular night was more violent than usual. Heavy, crashing waves punched into the ship with such a strong impact, that when it leaned, you could hear as the vessel declined and creaked and waned and then finally… capsise.

It was an unreal experience to have woken up to such horrors, since just moments before you were fast asleep, blissfully unaware of what was churning on the surface. A part of you wondered if it was just the case of being understaffed due to a low hire season, but just from hearing the roaring force of the waves just outside, you quickly understood that there was never any hope to be had in the first place.

No, this voyage was a doomed one from the minute that it had begun to set sail.

You scrambled forward either way, tearing out of your chambers as you dove head first into the quickly flooding hallway. Everything was leaning to the side, the scene disorienting you with the muddied direction. Some things were on fire in the distance, just barely illuminating the way. For the most part, you had to use your own internally mapped memory to swim your way out. You clawed desperately through the misdirected waters that pushed and kneaded you back and forth, hissing sharply strained whispers as your leg snagged over what felt like sharp metal. Your arms too, quickly grew tired as they thrashed towards the surface, just barely making it out in time to climb aboard the sinking wreck. Just like everyone else before you, however, you were soon hurled toward the dark waters, ready to be consumed by the pull of the unwavering void.

A fiery sensation flooded into your lungs; the feeling of molten lava trickling into your core and settling far and deep took over your senses. You couldn’t even breathe anymore as an unseen force prevented both the entry and exit of air alike.

No regrets were however had as you tried your best to at least float towards the surface, wherever that could have possibly been. Even despite your near-early end, you would have died free in the open world and thankfully not a prisoner to a life you knew that you would have hated.

So when your vision at last declined, surrendering to something beyond just the darkness; you simply just… accepted it all.

~~~

Much to your surprise, you managed to wake up. Somewhere bright. The sensation of grass and branches alike poked at your bare skin, leaving you in a perpetual state of slight discomfort. In a spur of confusion, you tore upwards to make sense of what you were feeling exactly, choking out lodged water out of your lungs that then oozed down your chin, mixing with dribbling saliva. A sharp sensation of searing pain swept through your leg when you tried to adjust your position, finding that there was tightly bound seaweed clinging around your thighs in a makeshift bandage of some sort. Your mind drifted back to the memory of you hurting yourself the night(?) before, but you couldn’t have been too certain.

The pain was a harsh reminder that you were essentially trapped wherever it was you were, nothing seeming familiar in your immediate line of sight.

In fact, where were you exactly?

You looked all around you, finding that you were on a cliff edge of some sort and that you were sitting in the middle of a giant nest. Some sort of fear gripped you, thinking that you might have been a snack for some sort of vulture, but then your mind quickly dismissed the thought. Such big birds didn’t exist… did they?

It must have been something else.

As your mind raced for answers, your train of thought was suddenly stifled by the roaring flutter of descending winds settling over your location. Looking up, you tried your best to make sense of what you were looking at exactly, but you were completely and utterly stumped.

Was this a man? A woman? A bird?

(…Both?)

Whatever they were, they knelt immediately, extending out their clawed feathered fingers to tug and tighten the seaweed wrapped around your leg, securing it further into place, slapping away your hand into submission upon your protesting action.

“Stop,” they said. It was a woman’s voice, sounding oddly human. There was a strong hint of compassion laced in her tone, lulling you into the belief that all was just fine. However, the more you looked at her, the more you were left confused. Was this a… monster?

You stopped fretting either way, half believing whatever this was to be a dream—despite it all feeling so shockingly real.

The bird-monster leaned you back down into her nest, her eyes fixated on your weary pupils before settling down next to you. Her feathered form kept you warm despite the harsh coastal wind. “Rest,” she commanded, her words almost hypnotic, driving you off into a deep sleep whether you wanted to go under or not.

Maybe the answers could come later, then—but given just how bizarre this whole thing was—maybe also not.

For now, you needed to first recover.

Then you could find the appropriate time to freak out and question and attempt to make sense of this whole thing.

Who was she… and why did she save you?

this is part 3 of lilac’s bite sized yandere nightmares

[dimepdf]

★  𝐈𝐓 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒, 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. your small town was known to those who carried money in their pockets, especially attention-grabbing men like Miguel, who needed a place to stay in town for the night. luckily, your hostel-owning cousin is willing to make just the perfect bargain for the traveler.

─── ☆ notes. oh brother here we go again. | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 4k (30 minute read)

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | medieval au | warrior!Miguel | servant!reader | one night stand | strangers to lovers | brief plot | pwp | love motel | size difference | height difference | size kink | body worship | degradation kink | name calling | eye contact | cream pie | marking | biting | rough sex | hair pulling | strength kink | we ignore typos here | song title Inspo

THE POPULATED TOWN of Edgewater was a place you called home. It was strange when it came to its fair share of travelers, from coin-hungry merchants to empty welding warriors and the cobbled roads that stretched from land to the seashore.

Edgewater was known for its lively community, always something happening from dusk till dawn, the moon only encouraging those of the night to linger on.

Most would call it anarchy. You would call it a pisspot full of people who didn't know what else to do with their lives, so all they could do was drink. 

Your uncle, who had owned one of the town's most sought-after local love hostels, catered to the sleazy travelers that would stumble their way into the heart of the town with more coin than they knew what to do with, calling the grotty drunken things that would come through looking for an easy way to settle their darkest desire good for business. 

Your uncle, who wasn't actually your uncle but had been the closest thing you unfortunately considered family since the day you could first remember, had always been guided towards the promise of good wealth. He was a grimy older man you had been stuck with since he had first adopted you after your mother's unfortunate passing. She had been one of his workers who had collected more debt than the men she would have ever bedded combined.

Debt that had been carried on down like a tragic legacy, leaving you shackled as the one and only handmaiden forced to clean whatever was leftover from the men you would envy as they had the ability to actually leave. Your forced imprisonment was the main reason why you would snide at every man that would struggle through the front door, drunk fools with not enough coins in their pockets to pay for rent or take care of their families back at home, yet just enough to come to your uncle's love hotel and buy off one of the mistresses to give them a temporary good time.

You thought them to be all the same, balding drunks running away from their lives off with some mistress that falsely tolerated the disappointment that they used to think with between their legs for the coins in their pockets. You couldn't blame them for their jobs. In fact, you preferred to be the one scrubbing the aftermath, then bed with some of the toothless, grimy slobs considered customers your uncle would welcome as if they were his old friends.

You would even consider the fact of having some sort of liking for your job. Being considered a lowly maid came with its rare but useful perks. Other than not being a lady of the night because you were too busy wiping the stained cum from sheets, you were allowed to dawn more comfy drapes, allowed to eat whatever you pleased without your uncle chastising you about your weight since your body wasn't his to display, and lastly, the best part of it all: the eavesdropping.

The town was big with gossip, word to mouth was how normally word would spread throughout businesses and homes faster than the ink would dry from the papers being passed out. Since you were the only real task hand in the love hostile most upkeep jobs besides cleaning were included in your wages. During afternoon runs through the market, you oh so loved to keep an ear out for bickering couples, big-mouthed children, or even merchants that would slip their tongues of secrets. 

Said way was also how you caught word of an interesting wanderer that had stepped foot on the town's soil. With whispers of a dark-skinned, broadening warrior that stood out from the rest, hipping an iron sword and battle scars, you heard word that he was merking somewhere around for a place to rest for the day, along with some supply trading.

Your brow almost raises at the mention of places to stay the night. Edgewater was a place where you could murder someone and then sell the clothes off their back for a nice dime, not necessarily the place you could go trusting just about anyone to stay the night, especially if you were lugging around the type of gear the merchants already had as big as the target on your back as this guy did.

This is why you were surprised later in the night to see two men ram their way through the front door of the building. You were working on sweeping some of the dust from the wooden floorboards near the entrance, almost flinching out of your own skin as the doors slammed open. You quickly collected yourself, holding back from muttering something rude under your breath instead of turning to greet the guest.

An older man, who you had assumed to be the cause of the door hinges being in their last life, stumbled in and almost slumped over if it weren't for the man beside him carrying his drunken dead weight as he rambled on and on to the other man he leaned against about how great this hostile was for the eye candy and how he whiffed on and on about how he could get them both discounted personal rooms just to prove his point. The other man made you halt in greeting, almost choking on your words as you took in his appearance.

You were starting to understand how he had managed to grab the town's attention now that you were able to see him with your own eyes. He was a much taller man compared to the other, you only assumed he'd be taller in his own height if it weren't for his hunched structure, practically lugging a grown man on his left shoulder. He had been a fit fighter for the warrior description, with his broadened shoulder and the peak of muscles from his sleeve being yanked up as the dark curtain of hair that shields most of his face from where you stood. Though his clothes were tatted and worn-looking, on his hip was sheathed a sword.

His presence alone would suffocate you alone if it weren't for the awkward situation of him babysitting some bubbling idiot. It only took seconds for your uncle to come budging in, greeting the two and settling them into separate rooms. He had managed to even squeeze a little more coin out of the newcomer, your uncle offering him a place for the entire night since he heard he had nowhere to stay "out of the kindness of his heart." You almost snorted at his fancy act of knocking up the prices and throwing in packages that didn't exist to the poor mystery tourist.

Since the unnamed stranger's arrival, the powder room has erupted into a fit of frenzy. You hadn't seen this many of the women chatter about being excited and happy since a few years back when a strangler of men came back to town with their hunt earnings and decided to make the poor decision of blowing all their newly earned money in one night.

It was sad to say that the excitement would slowly die out more and more as the night progressed. Even though who you considered the most stunning women to come back with pouty faces and empty pockets cussing the new handsome-faced fellow's name under their breaths, the man had managed to do his rounds of rejecting just about every working lady in the hostile, much to your uncle's dismay, who at first just waved his dismissal off as him being just being another picky man with a type.

Your uncle wanted to charge him for more than just the bed he had offered him, yet no matter how many times he would send a new girl to his doorstep, the man had gotten to the point of annoyance where he wouldn't even bother to have the courtesy of not slamming the door closed in their face before they could utter a word. Unfortunately, due to their demise for failed flirting, you were the very last option at your uncle's attempt at ringing money out of the warrior's pockets. You put up a quiet fight, making every excuse under the sun until your uncle flat out struck you across the face and spat that he would threaten to stop giving you pay and instead add the wages you've collected to the long list of debts you were trying to pay off.

The threat was enough to have you taking your sweet old time, shuffling your feet against the floorboards, making your way down to the stranger's door, your hands tracing over the soft throb of the cut he had lifted, marked in a scratch from the backhand of one of his rings. You hadn't even bothered changing out of the clothes you had been working in all day. Instead of protesting with what was left of your pride in your hands, you held some spare straw pillows that your uncle gave you to use as some sort of excuse to coax you into at least opening the door.

You lightly tapped your knuckle against the wood for a moment before you knocked once more with just a bit more force, "Excuse me, sir." You hadn't even finished your sentence before the door creaked wide open.

By the slight raise of his brow, you guessed that he too wasn't expecting to see that you were the one behind the intrusion. Your words shriveled down your throat at the towering sight of him. Now standing tall in his full glory, his height almost reached up to the top of the door if he hadn't been using the frame to slouch against, very shirtless.

You took a step back out of instinct, taking in his muscled torso, bared with scars and marks you could only imagine the battle he earned them from. In Between the distance that parted you two was another beat of silence, his as he stared down at you, his features now plastered with what you could only assume was boredom as you gaped up at him, your mouth parting like you were some type of fish as your brain struggled to form the words you wanted to come from your throat.

"Uh, sorry, just—would you mind if I….offered company?" Your voice trembled as you couldn't make the request sound more awkward, forcing the strength surging through your veins to hold you upright as his eyes shamelessly traveled down your body as if you were some sort of prey ready to get swallowed up.

"And what company would you ever have to possibly offer me?" An annoyed grimace soon followed as he spoke, making it difficult for you to even process if the question was supposed to be insulting.

"I offer an exchange. You take these pillows and let me hide out in your room—at least until you leave, so my uncle stays off both of our backs." In the offer, you lifted the pillows towards him, watching as he scanned them with the same expression of boredom as if you were offering him vegetable soup.

"I should mention that if you do not accept, my uncle will be more furious with me than you." Clarifying the stakes you were taking, the beast of a man gave your face a once-over, his expression softening to something that you could only guess was a pity as a sigh parted his lips, gesturing you inside with a careless limp wave. He had not bothered moving over, only raising his arm to let you walk under and into the room before closing the door and making his way to the bed.

You could only watch, standing close to the other corner of the room, as he slouched, sitting against the headboard almost too comfortably against the creaking wooden mattress to what you assume he continued his interrupted task of sharpening his sword. 

The room, besides the moonlight that leaked onto the floor from the open curtains. Had the room been poorly lit, a light orange from the oil lamp that sat on the crate-made nightstand illuminated the man's figure and sword dangerously. The light kissed his muscles and tanned auburn features, basking in the handsome aura that he was intertwined with, reminding you of the portraits you would see strung up in royal galleries of oil-painted men ascending from the parted clouds.

Your staring had not gone unnoticed. The man's dark eyes flitted over to you, gazing upon all the scabbed, light scars that riddled up from his torso to his face as if they were tattoos. "Could you at least give me your name before undressing me so unkindly with your perverted eyes?" he offered out another vague-sounding insult, dipping his sword back into its sleeve as he reverted his attention to you. The raising of his thick brow was the demise of any offense you could have possibly reacted with. You spoke your name softly, almost as if you were in the blink of forgetfulness, falling under whatever spell came with him bearing his charming canines.

"And I, Miguel," he returned, easing back his shoulders slightly, bowing his head, and reaching his arms out for you in a small polite greeting, which you could only assume to be considered manners outside of your town. Your steps were skittish, pausing for a moment before your legs processed the placement that you stood away from had to be closed for you to shake his hand. You had practically wisped across the room with the light of your feet as your hand ghosted close to his.

He took the first step in closing the distance, reaching for your hand and pressing the back of your palm against his lips. To say that the gestures had not stirred something inside of you would be a deep lie as you caught your eyes following his mouth. Your hand flinched under his gentle hold, molding against the callus of his fingers before you had even realized it. Your fingers brushed up against the scar that stretched against the end of his brow.

Miguel yanked back in a wince as your breath hitched, his brows knitted together, and a large hand fisted around the bend of your wrist, yet his hard stare never left the same mouth your fingers had just rudely traced over. "Just what is going on in that perverted mind of yours?" His tone held a strong accent that made every word sound condescending yet more gentle than the last time he spoke, his grasp planting you just beside the bed between his legs. 

You wanted to call him out on his insulting accusation. If it had been any other man on the street, you probably would've given him an earful by now, yet there was just something so alluring about Miguel that left the bend of your knees threatening to wobble as he glanced up at you with his dark, intimidating eyes. "I bet you're not even going to apologize. How rude."

Your own lips parted in hopes of a response, yet shut quickly as his hand interpreted you once more, guiding your hand by the hold on your wrist back to his face and letting your palm rest against the curve of his cheek. Your fingers dance against all the small scabs and smudges he had yet to clean from his face, almost as if he were caressing himself with your own hand. You didn't bother pulling away, letting his warmth dance under your palm at his grasp. Your thumb graced under the most prominent scar caught close to the side of his lip, tracing the mark and pausing at just the underside of his mouth.

The very inmate exchange had opened a portal of doors for your hands to explore the curious marks on his body, from dark specks of moles scattered against his brown skin as if they were constellations to the ugly scabs dug on top of his abs from wounds that healed over from his troubled past. Spread against his skin were stories and experiences, all of which you could never imagine from the bubble of your small rural village.

Miguel let your curious fingers wander on their own, the palms of his hands coaxing around your hips and guiding you into his lap. Not once did you break contact with the light gleam in his dark eyes, not even when you realized that you were practically straddling yourself over just one of his spread-tensed, muscly thighs.

There was no point in squirming away. You had no desire to lean back now, no want to back now, backing away from the control of his cosset, instead melting into the warmth that engulfed under his touch until you were supporting yourself up by the brace of your swung arm around his neck to stabilize yourself.

All senses are overcome with sheer curiosity, with your fingers tracing every ridge and mottle, following the rise and fall of his bare chest. There grew a stained festering of want, a need now revealing its restlessness growing tight within you, so much so that your initial fear was soon drowned out by the heat shifting within your core.

Miguel did just about everything, yet so little to entertain your touch, letting your eyes swallow him whole, knowing just what he was doing and pressing just the right amount of pressure into his fingertips that held around your waist. 

His expression had shifted from that bored and somewhat tired look to something more heavy that you could not quite decipher in the low light. You would have been mistaken for thinking that he hadn't had any interest in the fact that you were sitting in his lap if it weren't for the faint throbbing reaction you felt pressing against your thigh.

You were all for self-respect and protecting your dignity, but you just couldn't help but yank that fucking bar down to the dirt and throw yourself at him. If anything, it was more of a freefall you took, leaning in and pressing your lips against your body to cut through the thick tension.

It was your nervousness fading at the sooth of his hands, bringing you in closer by the waist, your back arching to press closer to his chest. His kisses were as rough as you thought they would be, from everywhere his lips grazed, from your mouth to the curve of your collarbones. They left your nerves jolting at the brush of his sharp canines brushing against a sensitive spot close to your jugular.

The whiny small pleads of encouragement were all that could part from your kissed lips, his hands unknotting from the hold on your hips to slowly undoing the buttons to your nightgown, exposing more of your skin for him to assault, his hands cupping your breast through the cotton fabric, groping and suckling at your budded nipples through the fabric of your arching body with a drooling obsession.

With your eyes fluttering shut and head tilted back, drowning in pleasure, already putty under his touch, it was easy for him to lay your limp figure down against the uncomfortable hay-stuffed mattress your uncle would be too cheap to call a bed.

Hiking your thigh over his shoulder with a quick yank, his clean-shaven face smooth against your spread thighs, burying himself between your legs. The ghost of the ghost wanting to admit to it being your first time caught in your throat, cutting through the thick cloud of your worries and insecurities. The moment he brought his mouth close to your mount, his tongue was practically savage against your poor clit. 

The vibration of his grunts as your nails knotted around a handful of the hair that curled around the nape of his neck, shifting your hips against the rhyme of the roll warmth of his tongue. A sigh was launched down your throat the moment his thick dark lashes fluttered open, instantly latching onto your gaze, a shiver running down your spine at the lewd scene of the man between your legs desiring your pussy with his mouth.

In the back of your mind, you found it ironic how you were practically close to screaming out Miguel's name as if it were a praying plea for your life, yet in an earlier time in your life, you would always look on in disgust at the moans that would leak through from rooms your coworkers serviced, swearing to yourself that you would never find yourself behind those same doors, yet there you were climaxing under a handsome stranger's tongue as he lapped your twitching cunt through the hard ripple of your orgasm.

His lips tasted like you. 

That was the first sense that welcomed you back down from whichever cloud you were floating on. Miguel's tongue invaded your mouth, and swallowing whatever breath you tried to pant out, the struggling continued. He pressed your thighs apart enough to slot himself in between them as a tensed string itched in your lower thigh muscles, your legs trembling under his fingers.

The head of his cock was intrusive and rude, to say the least, bumping his girthy length against you, shamelessly shifting his hips, covering himself in the wetness of your legs, kissing back every whimper that came up your throat at his fat tip, threatening to breach between your lower lips without any proper hopes of a graceful welcome.

The stretch of his fat tip parting you open left a cry falling from you as Miguel grunted into the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath against your sweat-clad skin. Your back arched up against his broad chest as the lewd size of his cock overtook the rest of the sense you had left within your fogged spirit, his dawning pace merciful with experimentally slow strokes deep enough to make your toes curl against the scratchy duvet bedding to a rough pistoning rhythm against your core.

Your fingers clamping tight into the straw pillow at the all too familiar tensing knot forming in your stomach, begging with each harsh thrust, you let outpaced, panting, punched-out moans, following the lead of Miguel's hips, who barreled through your tight cunt as your second orgasm rudely yanked you back to bliss. Your body trembled from exhaustion under Miguel's unsetting ramming hips. The minutes flew by as your brain struggled to do anything but cry out unfinished sentences leading with his name.

Using your noises of encouragement, Miguel chased after his own pleasures, slowly drifting into a less rhythmic pace. His hips buried themselves as he rutted deep inside of you, filling you to the brim with his size, snug enough to twitch his cum into where he lay with one last low, strung-out, stuttering groan.

With each other's hearts hammering, you and Miguel fell fatigued against one another, welcoming the slug of his weight as a comforting weighted blanket, neither bothering to curl away from the other nor making any effort to pull himself out, instead using the strength that you deemed to be infinity for him to reposition you on top.

His arm wrapping around the lower part of your torso and nuzzling his chin against you with a tired breath, more than content with spending the night in his room, knowing that your wobbling legs would betray you the moment you stood on your own, closing your eyes and slumbering against his chest in comfort.

Maybe that was why you shifted away with an aching start, the bruising mark littered across your skin a shade of a hinting purple and red, as well as the mess between your legs painted as a lone reminder of the acts you had committed last night. Miguel had apparently gone after sunrise, leaving the spot in which he lay empty with a stricken feeling in your chest and a defeated spirit after hearing your uncle congratulate you for milking enough money out of the visitor to pay off all of your debt completely.

★  @xylianasblog / @knightlythoughts4 / @tanith13 /@niyizh /@maki-z / @inspace1 / @marzipaanz / @inumakiiz / @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom / @adonis-is-dead-lmaoo / @dressycobra7 / @pondering-peach / @foxymask001 / @haitaniwhor3 / @creamyarishi / @iheartlinds

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[angelbitezzz]

Recently read Tilikum by Llama_Goddess on Ao3 (check out the link it's so good) and it gave me some interesting brainrot ideas

Fic under the cut

A day dawned like any other for Sans. Get out of bed, work various odd jobs, slack off at said odd jobs, and get home to sleep some more.

Today was a new gig—Janitor work at the local aquarium. It was good, easy work. He'd been all sorts of things in his time both underground and now on the surface, so he was largely left to his own devices practically since the first day.

Some kid spilled one of those themed ice creams on the floor in front of one of the siren tanks. Big attractions, those guys. Not quite human, too physical to be a monster, they sort of floated in this odd in-between state of natural existence. Word was that the song of one would easily lead you to your drowning death. It was a good thing that glass was thick and soundproof, otherwise any of the ones held captive would likely jump at the chance.

Sans mopped away at the spill slowly, dragging out the task. The place was closing for the night soon, he certainly didn't want to be redirected to something else when he had such an easy job right here. A whistle leaked from between his teeth, some song he'd heard on TV earlier in the day.

The room was empty now. With the evening settling in and closing time within the hour, no one had come by to this one since he'd gotten here. Probably since this specific siren didn't seem a fan of performance, or being seen. You were lucky to get a glimpse of it if it was feeling curious on a given day, or so Sans had heard.

He wrung the mop in the bucket and set about just mopping the entire room, still whistling away. But a chill ran up his spine, halting his movements.

The unmistakable, burning feeling of being watched.

He turned his head slow, pupils sliding up along the glass he stood next to until they connected with a bright purple gaze that seemed to peer right through him.

The siren.

It—She? She floated right there, hand pressed against the glass. Her pupils were blown wide open, though they dilated just a little when their eyes met properly. There was something curious about the look on her face, so human if not for the subtle shine of fine scales along her brown skin. Dark hair drifted around her face, some kind of kelp braided into it at certain spots, that same stuff even braided and tied together to make up the cloth she was wearing around her chest. Did sirens care for modesty? He didn't know. Her lower half was that of a fish, something tropical he hadn't bothered to learn the name of. Powerful muscles twitched the end of the tail, keeping her afloat in the same position with ease.

He wasn't sure when he'd stopped breathing. It seemed like time itself had stopped when he realized he was being watched. Was this typical of sirens? Did the gaze of one paralyze as much as the song?

No, that couldn't be the case. Otherwise they wouldn't bother with displaying them at all.

When he didn't react behind meeting her gaze, she seemed to relax just a little. Her eyes slid along his form, taking in the details of his Janitor's uniform and the bones that were visible.

"huh. you're, uh, curious, i guess?"

Sans wasn't sure why he was talking, it wasn't as if she could hear him. But the way his eternal grin moved with the speech seemed to fascinate her. She lowered herself to be more at eye level, both hands against the glass. He slowly put his mop back in the bucket and turned towards her, tugging at his gloves to pull them tighter before stepping closer. The siren didn't move, only followed every movement with that same burning gaze.

"heya." Sans gave a little wave, the way the kid had taught him.

The siren waved back, copying his movement exactly. Then she did something new—she pointed at him. He pointed at himself.

"me?"

She nodded and did something else, crossed her hands over her chest in fists, only the index and middle finger half extended. She bumped them together at the wrist, tapping the fingers to her shoulders and sliding them down to a point at her mid-chest. When he responded with a blank stare, she repeated it. His head tilted.

"now what does that mean...?"

The siren only did it once more before she seemed to give up. She made a recognizable motion this time, both hands in fists together and turning down as if snapping something. He almost frowned.

"that a threat?"

Her face broke out into a wide smile, revealing teeth sharper than he expected before she was laughing on the other side of the glass. There was no other explanation for what she was doing, she was laughing, entirely too amused by his reaction as her shoulders shook. His grin widened a little at that. Well, at least someone here was having fun?

The siren seemed to recover from her fit and gazed at him once more, pupils dilated again. Then they flickered up—an alarmed look flashed over her features before she was suddenly gone. There was a flick of her great tail and then she had twisted away into the kelp and seaweed populating her tank, only the waves of the greenery giving away how fast she'd moved. Sans glanced backwards, feeling oddly like a kid caught doing something he wasn't supposed to when he met the fascinated stare of a fellow janitor.

"hey, paul. uh. somefin the matter?"

"....I didn't see a damn thing."

The older human just turned and walked out, grumbling something about working here for too damn long just for a newbie to get the attention of one of the shyer sirens. Whatever that was about.

When the intercom crackled to life to announce the night's closing, Sans cast one last glance at the tank as he retrieved his bucket and mop.

The siren was nowhere to be seen.

[theclassiccosmic]

Pick a Pile / March Epiphanies

Images from Instagram & @hikayelertukendii

PILE 1 - White Tulips

Pile 1 - 6 of Pentacles Reversed, Page of Wands, Knight of Cups, Nine of Wands, Ten of Swords Reversed

Miracles, Strength, Tenacity, Fortitude, End of Suffering

You are stronger than you know. I’m getting the image of the Disney movie, Hercules. He is raised by his mortal parents, always having to be careful with his strength and abilities. However, in this time, it’s like you are coming “online” to the fact that this is your authentic identity. No more “being careful”, no more hiding. You’re taking a leap in something, even if you’re scared. As soon as you take that leap, I see miracles being rained down on you! Yes, babe!! You are leaning into your strong leadership role. You’re being your true self, even if you’ve been told that you are usually “too much” for people. Let those people go find less. You are embracing who you are now. You are loving yourself. You are filling your own cup. You should be so so proud of yourself! I’m proud of you <3

Oracle Cards: Quiet Your Mind, My Heart is Open to Love, Radiate Confidence

These tell me that you should take time to regularly meditate or pray. Everyday. Your thoughts become things, so make sure you’re quieting your mind daily. This will bring out your best timeline. Grounding will make you more confident, less anxious. Embracing your authenticity will open your heart up to love. Loving yourself, loving others, attracting a romantic partner. This will all culminate for you, as you *actively* participate in bringing it in. Spirit and the Universe/God, is always here for you. They are cheering you on as you enter this new chapter!

Song for Pile 1: Can I Jump? - Freya Ridings

PILE 2 - Red Tulips

Pile 2 - Five of Cups Reversed, The Emperor, Three of Pentacles, Queen of Pentacles

This will be a month for you to release a toxic ex or situationship. This connection left you out in the cold. It was all you initiating and desiring (ie. You doing everything, and them not doing sh*t) Too one sided. You might have met them at work, like you two work together, or you went to their place of business looking for a service and met them (like the barista at your local coffee shop). But here’s the thing, your attention was only the first way they were *taking* from you. You were also giving your power away by giving their establishment money (examples that I’m getting: paying for coffee, continually going to them to groom your dog, going to them for some sort of healing service - chiropractor, reiki, massage). And they just kept taking! Bc they knew you liked them and their ego was getting stroked. But not anymore!! With the Queen of Pentacles and The Emperor I’m seeing you taking your power back! They were bleeding you dry, keeping you disempowered, until you reached a big mental shift and energetic upgrade (could be peaking this month!) Finally you are coming out of the cold (this pile is the only one where the flowers are in the snow - coincidence? I think not). You are choosing yourself. You are realizing that you are worth more. You are worth reciprocal energy exchanges. You are worth receiving as well as giving. You are worth the Sun being shone on YOU instead of the other way around all of the time. Yes, babe! I’m loving this for you!

Oracle Cards: I Release All Negative Energy, Surrender to the Spirit Energy, Strong Brave Bold, You Will Not Stand in the Shadow of Another

The Oracle cards even speak of this being a negative/toxic connection. Actively work on releasing it (cord cutting ceremonies, meditation, journaling), they are not worthy of you boo! You are strong, brave and bold and sometimes people see that, and instead of being *attracted* to it in a romantic way, they are drawn to it in a way that brings forth envy. They want to take it from you. But like these Oracle Cards say, You will NOT stand in the shadow of another! It’s giving…self respect okay! Move on and watch your glow up explode!!

Song for Pile 2: We Can’t Be Friends (Wait for Your Love) - Ariana Grande

PILE 3 - Lilac Tulips

Pile 3 - Strength, Four of Wands Reversed, Six of Pentacles Reversed, Queen of Swords Reversed, Ace of Swords

3 out of your 5 cards came out reversed. You’re definitely laying something down now. “Laying down the struggle” is what just came through. In the deck that I’m using, even your upright Ace of Swords is showing a hand dropping the sword. You’re not fighting anymore. You’re done making life hard. I’m getting this visual of that old Disney movie The Sword and the Stone. In all of your cards, your swords and your wands are pointing down, they’re falling. I’m seeing them fall into the stone from that movie. And then you come along, with all of your innate intuitive power, and pull them out. You are making what hurt you, now *work* for you. You better get it, fam. Side note: when I looked up that movie, the year really called out to me. It was made in 1963, and when I look up the angel number 1963 online it says “Angel Number 1963 asks you to trust and believe that you will always have plenty to care for yourself and your loved ones. Know that you are able to confidently serve your life purpose and soul mission with your wants and needs being met along the way. The angels and Universal Energies will ensure that your material needs are always met in Divine right time. Trust that the Universe provides all.” [Sacred Scribes blogspot] Which brings me to the energy of the Strength card. On my deck, strength is represented by the bull. Very much like a Taurus. You may have a Taurus Mars {the planet of action and doing) or you may have a lot of Taurus or fixed energy in your birth chart. Either way, this is telling me that everything is going at the pace in which it should. Divine timing is at play right now. I’m feeling like some of you may have been feeling frustrated by how long this “healing journey” has been going on for you. Peep what the oracle messages had for you “everything will reveal itself in time”.

Oracle Cards: My Destiny Will Reveal Itself in Time, Surrender to the Spirit Energy, Consider All Your Options Before Acting, Let Go of Things That No Longer Serve You

There is healing happening here. You are surrendering. You are trusting the divine timing of it all. And if you’re *not* doing that, then the message here is for you to lean more into that this month. It is imperative for your growth and ascension. In life we must let go of things, people, environments that no longer serve us. It’s sad but it’s true, not everyone is meant to go with you on this journey. Consider your options. Trust your intuition. Don’t let others make your decision for you. Make the decisions and life choices that will make your heart happy. In doing so, you will let go of a lot of hurt and strife that you are no longer meant to be experiencing, love. You’ve got this!!

Song for Pile 3: Now is the Hour - The 1975

DM me for personal/private readings or if you’d like to dive deeper into one of these piles! Until next time -xo

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

10 & 11 with Paul please?

10. So apparently we have a vampire in the attic?

11. "I am not going to rob a hospital so you can drink blood."

--------------------------

With a sigh, I closed the trunk, carrying the final box inside the house my best friend and I just bought. It had been an absolute steal - an old wooden house that was well taken care of for only a hundred thousand dollars. Amy and I had found it rather suspicious that a house this big would go for such little money, but miss Emerson had assured us that she wanted to sell it to some folks who would love the house as much as she once did.

So, knowing we had to move to be able to work around Santa Carla - Amy in the hospital and me at a dispatch centre - we decided to just take the deal. It was good. The place was awesome. We had enough space to live together, but we could also definitely have our own spaces.

"Was that it?" Amy asked as she stood in the kitchen, unpacking some of the supplies we'd brought along. I chuckled as I saw an "old fart" sign inside the fridge as she opened it.

"Yeah. I'm putting it upstairs, we can decide on rooms later. Is it okay if we do take out tonight?"

Amy nodded, handing me a leaflet - but as she realised I couldn't exactly take it from her, she put it on top of the box I was holding. As I walked upstairs, I couldn't help but feel that this was exactly right. No more big city drama, no more crazy things happening at the job. Just an easy live, in a calm and quiet town.

After calling the local pizza parlour for our order, Amy and I spent the rest of the night unpacking. We had decided on rooms, her taking the bigger one since her shifts were irregular, and she would need to wake up earlier - or come back later. That way, she could do so without worrying about the noise. Besides, the room I'd picked was nice as well. It had a walk-in closet of sorts and a big spacious window looking out on the grassland outside.

The next two days we spent like that, unpacking, decorating, organising - and in those two days the house began to feel like a home. I smiled as Amy left to go to work, enjoying the fact I'd have the house to myself that evening. Yesterday, we found the attic, and I had been planning on getting all our Christmas decorations and other stuff up there.

There weren't many boxes that had to go up there, but it took me a while to get them there. When I got up the attic with the last box, I tripped over some loose planks, stumbled forward and was about to drop the box when-

"Here, let me take that from you."

I screamed as a guy took the box from my hands, pushing me back into balance.

"Who the fuck are you?!"

"I live here."

"Who are you?!" I had grabbed an old, plastic Christmas topper and held it in my hand as if it were a knife. It was a pathetic weapon, but it was all I had at the moment. The guy was blocking the exit.

"I'm Paul."

"Okay, Paul," I said his name, not sure if it truly belonged to him, "I need you to get out of my attic."

"Eh- yeah, I can't do that."

"And why not?"

"Did Lucy give you the house papers?"

"Miss Emerson? Yeah, she did. Why?"

"You got the house. Not the attic."

"Then why weren't you downstairs in the past three days, hm? What, you're just creeping up here watching us sleep or something?"

He laughed - he actually laughed at what I had just said. "Why would I do that? Sleeping humans are lame, you know that!"

"Humans?"

"Yeah, it's what you are, right?"

"And you're not?" I asked him, even though I absolutely wondered how ridiculous this conversation would get. Surely he was just as much human as I was?

"No."

Shit.

"Then what are you?"

"Vampire."

Double shit. I looked at him, at the Christmas topper in my hand, and I shook my head.

"Listen, I don't know what you're on, but I'd advise you to get clean, alright? I'll look through the papers, and if what you're saying is right, the attick is yours. You're not invited into the rest of the house."

I didn't know if vampires worked that way, but if he truly was a vampire, not inviting him seemed like a good idea, right?

"There's no reason to be scared." He said as he saw me walk towards the wooden steps. He had moved aside, standing in a beam of light coming from outside.

"We just bought a house with a strange guy living in the attic. Excuse me if I am not totally relaxed right now."

"You know my name, and what I am. I mean, if you want me to not be a strange guy you could get to know me."

"No."

I was halfway down the steps.

"I don't even know your name!" He called after me, but I ignored him, looking for the papers he'd mentioned. I found them in the kitchen drawer, and sear he'd through them to find anything about the attic.

The attic belongs to Mr. Paul, who has chosen not to use a last name. He is allowed to live in the attic as long as he meets the following conditions:

1. He promises not to harm any of the living staying in this house.

2. He won't bring any of his victims in or near the house.

3. Nor will he clean up evidence of his feedings inside the house.

4. If present or future residents ask him to leave the attic, he can only do so if they have provided him with another sun-free location.

Mr. Paul has proven himself to be a vampire but has agreed to the terms and conditions in this contract in order to heal from his injuries sustained in an accident back in 1987.

I sighed as I dropped the papers. These were legal. Fucking legal papers talking about a vampire? Living in our - I picked up the phone and dialed Amy.

"What's up?"

"So apparently we have a vampire in the attic?"

"What?!"

"Yes. Exactly."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah? I mean, he didn't hurt me or anything but-"

"Is he for real? Like - vampires?"

"I don't know? The papers say so."

"What papers?" Amy asked.

"The contract, you know, the ones we signed to buy this place."

"Shit, I knew we should gave read through them."

"Yeah," I sighed. "But we can't evict him, and by law he's bound by rules like not to kill us or to bring kills home or evidence of kills..."

"But if what he's saying is true, we're living with a vampire?"

"Yeah."

"Alright," Amy sounded a little light-headed, "I think I'm going to hang up and faint for a bit, alright?"

"Amy? Amy?!" But I got no response. I hung up the phone, and decided to go back upstairs. If he really was a vampire, I needed proof. Also, if he really was a vampire living with two humans, I needed to know more about him.

"So, I found the papers."

"Good!" Paul sat on the ground, a joint in his hand. "So, whats up?"

"I need proof."

"What more do you need? Those papers are-"

"Not about you owning the attic, but about the whole vampire thing." I looked at him. "It sounds far fetched."

He grinned, and within seconds his kind - what? - face had turned demonic. His face had sharpened, his eyes turned an orange so bright it seemed to glow, his teeth razor sharp.

"Shit."

"You've got nothing to worry about!" He grinned as he morphed back. "I have made a vow to not hurt any living being in this house."

"But if you're hungry and we are outside?"

"Depends on the kind of roommates you are."

I paled, realising that if he was serious, this could also be a very serious problem.

"So, ehm, if we were to stay here, you know - and live with you - is there anything we need to be aware of?"

"I've got all I need up here, basically. But, if you want to be kind, I could do with some bloodbags."

"And how would I get those?" I mean, of course I knew how to get them, but no way would I ever do that.

"Just rob the hospital."

"I am not going to rob a hospital so you can drink blood."

"You could ask your friend, she works there, right?"

"I'm not asking Amy to steal blood for you!"

With a pout, he looked at me. "Then you leave me no choice but to eat you."

"I know where you sleep. I will fucking stake you if you even think about it."

"I was kidding!" He said quickly - too quickly if you asked me. Suddenly it clicked.

"Wait, you - someone staked you?"

He shook his head. "No, my best friend. He died before my eyes."

"Sorry."

He sighed. "We wanted revenge, you know. Eye for an eye, and that kind of thing. Dwayne got electrocuted. He burned up the minute that arrow hit him. David survived initially, not being staked through the heart, but when the Emersons found out, they laid him out in the sun to burn."

"How did you survive?" I asked quietly.

"I didn't. A dog pushed me into a tub with holy water, and I practically exploded. There were pieces of me everywhere. Lucy was the one to clean everything up, and as she had a bucket filled with pieces of me, she accidentally cut herself. Her blood started to heal me. Little by little, she fed me some blood, and after almost a year, I was back to my old self. She kept me here so the sun wouldn't get to me, and her sons wouldn't find out."

"You're welcome to stay here," I said softly. "And if you promise not to bite either me or Amy, you're also welcome to hang out downstairs if you want."

He has a soft smile on his face.

"We won't do any blood deliveries, but I am willing to cook for three."

"Deal."

I smiled, taking his outstretched hand. "Well then, nice to meet you, Paul."

[bysaber]

Decorating the house ft. Kento Nanami

Day 04 of 31 Days of Ficmas!

summary — kento nanami indulges your love for christmas and helps you decorate your shared house because there isn’t a thing he wouldn’t do for you.

word count — 1k

content — tooth-rooting fluff, one kissing scene idk, gojo’s mentioned (and insulted), bad writing

notes — wrote this one in some sort of a rush and didn’t reread so if there’s any mistakes im sorry :/

Kento Nanami is ready to flee from his office when the clock ticks and his shift is over.

His coworkers don’t even see him leaving as he grabs all his things and speeds to the elevator to escape from that environment as fast as possible.

Nanami always disliked the concept of working in a big company, but today he has a couple of other reasons to want to rush home, and it all comes down to you; his full-of-life girlfriend who’s decided to bring the spirit of Christmas to your shared apartment.

That morning he left you with a pang in his chest, filled with some sort of guilt for not being able to share the same excitement you had as you went on and on about the plans you had for the day; set up the tree, some lights, decorate the tree and then the house.

His guilt only worsened when he arrived at his workplace, wondering how he could be unaffected by your undying light and the things that made you smile when he had to endure such a soul-crushing, dead place, day after day.

The blonde man stops at a local café to buy you some pastries and coffee before finally making his way towards home, careful not to drop anything as he paces rather hurriedly, sighing in relief only when he’s in the elevator and going up, up, up.

To you.

When he opens the door, everything already looks different – there’s a tree, now. It’s not fully decorated, lots of things splattered on the ground, but you also hung Christmas signs on the walls and covered the living room table with a Christmas tablecloth.

Nanami keeps scanning the room until he finds you, sitting on the floor with your face so deep inside a box he’s sure you’re not aware of his presence just yet. The ever so serious man can’t help but smile fondly at the sight, taking his glasses off and putting them and the coffee he bought on one of your shelves before making his way toward you.

“I’m home, love,” he calmly announces, trying not to startle you.

“Kento!” you are quick to stop everything you’re doing and get on your feet to have his arms wrapped around you, his lips pressing on your forehead. “How was your day?”

“I spent the entire day wanting to come back home and help you with the decorations,” he confesses in an attempt to redeem himself for the lack of interest he had shown earlier. Your eyes glow as you let out a low ‘Oh?’ and he continues, “Speaking of, since when do we have all of this?”

You follow his gaze to all the decorations around the living room and giggle, detangling yourself from his arms as you take some lights from the box you were previously checking and place them in his hands, “I went out and bought some things today. Gojo helped me with the tree because it was too big for me to carry alone. He left about thirty minutes ago.”

Nanami immediately frowns, “Gojo? Don’t hang with that degenerate,” a genuine laugh escapes your lips when he complains. “Next time I’ll help you.”

You smile widely at him, sick in love. You know Kento’s not one to celebrate things, especially if it involves spending money and doing extravagant stuff, but he understands your love for Christmas and the way your eyes shine so much brighter when you can see it in the small decorations.

“You can help me now,” you say softly, hands cupping his cheeks before you kiss him lovingly.

Nanami always gets lost in your kisses, your warmth. When your lips meet his, your soft touches on his face and neck, your love filling him, he feels complete. And he never wants to let you go; still holding the lights, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer, his free hand caressing your cheek oh so gently until you pull away.

“Hmm… Miss you so much when you’re away,” you whisper close to his face. “But we gotta finish this first, Kento.”

“I know, love,” he sighs. “I bought us some coffee and pastries, but it’s probably cold right now.”

“I’m gonna heat it, then.”

Nanami nods and you grab the things he brought, going with it to the kitchen while he stands in the living room. He analyzes everything for a few seconds before starting to work; putting the Christmas lights on the windows – since you already have put some on the tree – and placing the star on the top of the tree.

“This looks beautiful, babe,” you praise when you come back, handing him one of the cups of coffee while you sip on your own. He just smiles softly at you, and you both start working together.

He laughs when you show him you’ve bought Christmas cushions, organizing them on the couch alongside a soft new blanket, “Good for movie nights,” he comments.

A fond smile grows on his lips when he sees you’ve also bought several Christmas cups. You are both coffee addicts and all the cups look adorable, just like you. He will make sure to drink on them every day.

At last, you place candles all around the house. Some aromatized, some not. “Don’t light them up at the same time, my nose can’t handle it,” he warns and it makes you laugh so loud he feels embarrassed.

“I guess that’s it,” you say as you exit your closet, where you’ve put the empty decorations box, going back to the living room to turn the normal lights out.

At the same time, Nanami turns on the Christmas lights.

You feel your heart beating faster, all the good feelings Christmas brings you washing over your body and making you smile like a little kid. And the fact that Kento’s there with you, that he built that with you, makes everything feel so much better.

Nanami is watching you as happiness overflows your body. He has a smile he can’t contain on his face, a happiness of his own, good feelings he never thought he was capable of having.

And it’s not about Christmas, it’s you.

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Mafia AU - Family Business

After my last post about the Blouin family in the Mafia AU for Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack I wound up going on a little extra ramble over on my twitter (calling it X is too weird for me) about how the family business got started. I figured I'd post it here too to make it easier to read and reference later.

It all started with a small business run by the beautiful Alma Blouin and her husband ???

I'd call him [Redacted] but that alias is taken already, so let's stick with what was written in the family tree, shall we?

I was inspired by Makes me Smile, an engaging story written by Sauce that takes place in the SunnyTime Town AU, that it actually started as a family-run traveling carnival that was a cover for more shady business. The family name and business wound up taking up some permanent roots in St. Valens because of Marceau.

There were more opportunities in that crime-riddled city to do backrooms deals, score illicit substances, and other stuff like that. St. Valens was a city rife with crooked cops and people with dubious morals. Sadly, this hasn't changed in present day. If anything, it's only gotten worse. It just can hide behind a shiny new coat of paint and colorful smiles thanks to the Blouin family taking over so many local businesses under their brand name of SunnyTime LLC.

Lucy Connolly is actually responsible for the SunnyTime brand, which is one reason why she kept her last name even after marrying Marceau Blouin. Since she was young, she wanted to make it big in the city, really clean up the town. She succeeded in making it big, but somewhere along the way she got sucked into a world full of sin and vice where her formally black and white view of morality was blurred with many shades of gray. She's still trying to do the right thing, particularly for her family and people she wants to protect, but sometimes she found it was necessary to do morally questionable things to do it. It was a slow corruption of innocence in a sense.

In a way, Jack gets his more twisted view on right and wrong from Lucy, as Marceau is a bit more up front about how messed up the criminal underworld is and their involvement in it. Jack tries to keep things as "friendly" as possible if he can help it, so to speak.

Marceau started off the business in St. Valens with an entertainment club. You had to know the right signs to get access to the good stuff they didn't show on the menu, stuff that could get you thrown in jail if you didn't have the money to pay off the cops.

One night, Lucy stopped by the club that had suddenly got so popular, thinking it was entirely legitimate, and it led to that fateful first encounter between her and Marceau.

Marceau didn't think he'd be staying in St. Valens long, even if he was trying to take advantage of the place for as long as possible, but Lucy was invested in the city, as it was her hometown. She was friendly and outgoing, and she knew a lot of people there. She grew up with them.

Lucy had a good sense for business, which places would be good to snap up for a song. She knew about the issues with many local gangs and how they intimidated local businesses into giving them a cut of their earnings to not get roughed up. She wanted to stop that sort of thing from happening so that innocent people could live their lives without fear.

Which is why the Blouin family in the present does take care of the citizens of St. Valens and stomp out more unsavory practices like human trafficking. Essentially Lucy wanted justice and went vigilante. (Insert Joker reference/joke here.) When it became clear that not everyone she tried to save was good, well…

That led into her corrupted world view and a more "ends justify the means" approach.

Marceau had been taught to watch his back and stand on his own, not having the best home life. In a sense, Lucy taught him to care more about others, that he could have someone he could trust to watch her back, and he taught her how to not let others take advantage of her and those she cares for.

Really, in the present day, the Blouins own a lot of businesses in a variety of sectors, from entertainment to scientific research to home electronics to weapons manufacturing. They're spread out across not just the SunnyTime LLC brand, but plenty of sub-companies with different names that the average person might not realize is owned by them. The SunnyTime brand has become a known trustworthy across the country and are spreading out slowly internationally.

Well… technically the family business is known internationally, just not in any public circles, and not under any brand name. Marceau alone has committed quite a few international crimes, though no one has been able to pin anything on him publicly. Lucy does a good job of keeping their public facing image squeaky clean, and she won't anyone hurt or take away any of her family.

Now that Jack is in charge, it's his turn to take care of the family and the business. Despite his issues with human touch, both them, and his sunshine, are in good hands.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps