#aster's writing

[plangentlyre]

Jennifer sitting on a tree stump as she cradles Jessica's head on her lap. She combs through her hair, fiddling with the blue and white flowers looped around her oak-colored locks.

She sleeps there, humming in a way that allows her to know Jessica is dreaming of those grassy plains she spoke of. For a moment, she's peaceful in her rest but then she shuffles, pressing her head persistently against Jennifer's palms.

A tear slips from the corner of her eyes and Jennifer catches them, cupping the side of her cheek gently. She continues to whimper and cry, and when Jessica comes to grip onto the girl's jacket, she whispers, scared and desperate, "...Jennifer..."

Perhaps it isn't the wisest choice in this circumstance but Jennifer lifts her other hand next to Jessica's ear and snaps her fingers. She even bounces her feet, urging the half-deer girl to wake up from her nightmare as she calls out her name.

It isn't until her patience is thinning out that the whines stop and a pair of mossy green eyes come to stare at her through a blurry lens. She whispers again when they clear, a hint of relief and uncertainty coating her voice. "Is that you... Jennifer?"

She huffs at her. "Who else would it be? Are you okay?"

"You're... You're here." Her gaze melts, wearing a lopsided and dopey grin as she does.

And as much as Jennifer wishes to smack her with sense, she can't help but cave in to Jessica's irresistible charm.

"Of course I am." Once more, she pets the top of her head fondly. "I promised, didn't I?"

[marciaillust]

Asterism book cover

[astermath]

second chance ₓₒ⋆:

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve decides to ask out the girl who he keeps seeing around hawkins with her nose in a book. he’s a little surprised when he gets brutally rejected, only to find out his “king steve” era is haunting him more than he expected. he attempts to make it up to you and show you he’s changed, even if it takes him a couple of tries.

word count: 4.8K (oops)

warnings: cursing, no use of y/n, bullying, regular size font below!

notes: first time writing for steve YES I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH HIM! YES IT IS THE FAULT OF ALL THE GOOD FIC WRITERS ON HERE! and thus,, I had to participate,, I hope I got his character down, I might write more for him so let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further steve harrington related content!

tagging some writers who have absolutely inspired me to write this with their own incredible fics, be sure to check them out <3 @hungharrington @sunshinesteviee @ghostlyfleur @lilacletter​ @stevenose​ 

As a teenager, you’d grown to hate Hawkins. It was a mundane, small town with boring people, not much to do, not to mention the weird supernatural rumors you’d hear about every other week. 

But nothing was worse than your high school, Hawkins High. There was a strong social hierarchy, with you firmly placed at the bottom. You were a class A nerd, getting good grades, and always reading to distract yourself from your lack of a social life. So naturally, you got picked on a lot. At first it was just some girls in your class, laughing at your big glasses and the way you dressed. But as you got older, you’d caught the eye of so called “king Steve” and his goons.

You’d heard plenty about him by junior year; how rich his parents were, how he was the best at sports, how every girl practically dropped to their knees when he entered a room. He’d started noticing you when his friend Carol pointed you out, sitting alone on a bench outside school, waiting for your dad to pick you up. His finger had pushed your book down so he could look at your face, and you were soon met with his all too cocky grin. 

“Watcha readin’, four eyes?” The ego was nearly dripping off his words, making your stomach turn.

“None of your business.” you pulled your book away, keeping a finger between the pages you were on. “Doubt it’s near your reading level anyways, Harrington.” You may have been nerdy, but you were no pushover. If they wanted to be condescending, then you’d play their game right back at them.

“That’s no way to treat your king, is it?” Tommy chimed in, like a parrot on his shoulder. You were sure that guy would be nowhere without his friend’s reputation, considering he had the personality of a wet sock.

“My king?” You repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t you just leave me alone?” You tried putting your book away, but Carol had snatched it from your hands just before you could reach your bag.

“Oooh, is this your diary or somethin’?” she flipped it open, shit eating grin plastered over her face as she ran her nail over your name written on the opening page. 

“Do you mind? Give it back!” you’d reached out to grab it from her, but she’d already tossed it back to Steve, who was now holding it high above his head. 

“Come and get it sweetheart,” He smirked. “Might have to get real close for it though.” Tommy laughed like a hyena at his taunting, and you swore you would have punted him if they didn’t outnumber you. 

You scowled, ready to just grab your bag and make a swing for it. “Over my dead body, Steve.” You spat his name, and he grinned at your response. 

“Ahh, shouldn’t have said that.” He dropped the book down into the muddy puddle in front of you, stepping on it to make matters worse. 

You watched, mouth slightly agape as tears welled up in your eyes. Carol cackled while you stood frozen, clutching your bag as you watched the pages soak up the filthy water under his foot. You had every reason not to like Steve, he was like every movie’s description of a high school bully. But he’d destroyed something personal of yours. So now you had every reason to hate Steve.

And the bullying never stopped there. He’d laugh when Carol put her gum in your hair, when Tommy would bump into you extra hard in the hallway, when you’d turn around every time you saw him.

So when graduation came, you couldn’t be happier to get out of there and go to college.

Except your dad got fired from his job. And so, after just a year of college, you’d abandoned your dream of majoring in English literature and returned to the sad, miserable old town you grew up in. 

So you’d taken on a job in your local bookstore, hoping to make enough money to rent an apartment anywhere else soon. You spent the rest of your time reading and writing, usually outside to get some inspiration. You weren’t surprised to see a lot of familiar faces, though you’d never actually spoken to most of them. College was expensive, and a lot of people from Hawkins were just going straight into working than bothering to study. Or maybe some were in the same unfortunate position as you, tragically locked to your hometown.

You were sat outside the backside of the mall, listening to people’s conversations around you. Though you were never much of a socialite, you were very interested in the way people interacted with one another, especially if they were from completely different backgrounds than you.

Two books sat besides you, knees brought up close to your chest as your papers leaned against your legs. You messily wrote down strings of sentences and words of inspiration, a description of what you were seeing too, every now and then. You were an aspiring writer, hoping your literary skills would one day break you out of your current situation, but with the current state of the world, that’s all you could really be. Hopeful.

You were daydreaming about the life you’d build for yourself, finger running over the tip of your pen. You were so involved in your own train of thoughts, you almost hadn’t noticed the sudden new presence besides you. 

“Watcha writin’, pretty girl?” 

The voice sounded familiar. A little too familiar for your liking, actually. You kept your eyes on the page, hoping you conveying your disinterest was working in driving the guy away. You sighed, clicking the pen a few times. “Do you really care, or do you just wanna bother me?”

You could hear a faint chuckle, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t sound nice. Still, you were working, and you preferred not to be disturbed when you were.

“You got me there,” the guy spoke, and you could tell he’d moved a little closer, because you could now smell a sliver of his cologne. “Was never one for books, but I’ve been wanting to read more. What is this, Pride and Prejudice?” He picked up one of the books, and you turned, about to take it from when your eyes landed on his face, freezing midway when you finally realized why he sounded so familiar.

Steve motherfucking Harrington.

Same cocky smile, same brown eyes, same somehow always perfectly styled hair, and probably same asshole altogether.

You squinted slightly, not sure if you were hallucinating or not. “... Steve Harrington?” You question, and you could tell he doesn’t quite know how to react at first.

Truth be told, Steve had changed. A lot. All the things he’d gone through, the connections he’d made, the ego checks he got, it made him a new man. Or so he definitely liked to believe. But he was also painfully aware of his reputation, his old persona still haunting him sometimes. Still, he’d never seen you before, so he hoped it was a relatively positive image you had of him.

“I guess my reputation precedes me,” he smiled, and you think it’s the first time you’d ever seen him genuinely smile. Not the smile he gave you when his friends were teasing you, no, this one was much softer. “Or maybe... We’ve met before?”

And then it clicked.

Steve had no clue who you were.

Sure, you’d developed a better sense of style over the years. You no longer needed braces, you had grown into your body better, and your glasses fit your face a lot more. But you didn’t think you changed that much. Besides, your personality had remained the same. You were still the sharp tongued, book loving, nerdy girl he’d bullied back then.

It was true, he didn’t recognize you. He was almost certain you were new in town, telling his best friend Robin that if he knew you, he’d definitely recognize a face that pretty. She had no clue who he was talking about, this mysterious girl he’d seen reading and writing all over Hawkins, so she just told him to make a move. So he did.

“So uh,” He leaned his arm over the backside of the bench, facing you. “I was wondering if you’d maybe like to go out sometime. Y’know, catch a movie, go to the arcade, whatever you’d like to do for fun, uh...” he flipped the book open on the first page, reading your name aloud. And then it clicked for him too. You weren’t new here, and you most certainly knew him. He looked back up at you, already getting ready to apologize when you snatched the book from his hands and got up. 

“Go fuck yourself, ‘king Steve’.” You scowled, shoving your stuff in your bag and angrily walking off.

He had to admit, that stung, hearing you use his old nickname like that, and then watching you storm off. He was starting to realize that there were more consequences to his high school endeavors than he’d initially imagined, that he couldn’t just move on and pretend that he was a new person now. He had to make things right. Starting with you, the pretty girl with the glasses. 

“And-- and then, wait for it-- I look into the book, right?” Steve stands behind the counter of Family Video, hands motioning vividly as he tells his friend about what had happened the day before.

Robin nods, mumbling some kind of “uhuh” as she continues to organize the shelves.

“And it’s her! It’s four eyes!” He exclaims, looking expectantly at his colleague, hoping for a big reaction.

“I’m sorry, who?” Robin’s face contorts in confusion, turning to face him with a hand on her hip.

“Shit, uh, she was like always reading and stuff, and she had these-- these glasses, they were way too big for her face, and--”

His sentence was cut short by the jingle of the door opening, and the two of them looked to see you there, who was clearly not expecting a welcome committee. Your gaze crossed Steve’s, and for a moment he felt like you were about to kill him with just your stare. You rolled your eyes, scoffing audibly and started looking through the shelves.

Robin looked at Steve, mouthing a “is that her”, to which he nodded stealthily. She replied by smiling approvingly, as if she now understood exactly why he wanted to make things right. You were really pretty, she could definitely see that.

You damn near slammed down the tape you wanted to rent for the day on the counter, avoiding eye contact as you looked through your bag for your wallet.

“Are you already registered at Family Video or—“

“No.” You cut him off, head snapping up.

“Alright,” Steve nodded, slightly intimidated. “I’ll just need your name and phone number for the registry.”

You stared at him for a few moments, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Did he really think you were that stupid?

“Are you fucking—“ You looked over at his colleague. “Is he fucking with me?”

Robin shook her head slowly, slightly intimidated. Though she could see why he had to work his way up to talking to you, she had to admit, it was quite funny seeing Steve actually struggle talking to a girl like this.

“We need it in case you don’t return the tape.” He gave you a thin lipped, awkward smile as he got the keyboard out to type it in.

“Fine,” You huffed, “but if I get a personal call from you, I’m changing numbers.” You started to list your phone number and complete your registration. You just wanted to watch the Breakfast Club for christ’s sakes, this was taking ages…

“That’ll be 10 dollars,” he put on a sweet, almost customer service-y smile, “please.”

“Yeah, fine, just—“ You rummaged through your bag, brows furrowing when you still couldn’t manage to find your wallet. You were certain you had it, although you did grab your stuff in a bit of a rush that morning. “I swear it’s here, it’s just under all this other stuff…”

You were about to dump the contents of your bag onto the counter when Steve held up his hand, pulling out his own wallet. “It’s fine, I got it.” He deposited 10 dollars of his own into the cash register, sliding the tape back over to you along with a receipt. “Courtesy of Steve Harrington.”

You looked down at the tape, and something in you wanted to smile. You were still getting used to this, guys doing nice things for you because you were pretty, but it was different from Steve. You were mad at him, and rightfully so. Te, measly dollars wasn’t going to cut it.

You muttered a “thanks”, stuffing the tape in your bag and waving Robin a quick goodbye before speed walking back outside. Your cheeks burned hot, and you hated to admit it, but it was a really cute gesture from Steve.

“She seems nice.” Robin said, watching Steve’s expression falter with a bit of an amused grin.

Steve leaned his face into his hands, watching you leave through the window. “The nicest.” He sighed, lowering his head to rub his hands over his face. “I’m gonna have to give that another try though.”

Robin chuckled, going back to the task at hand. “Good luck with that, casa nova.”

And so he did. He kept trying. It wasn’t just because he wanted to prove something to himself, he was genuinely intrigued by you. Even back in high school, he wondered what was going on in that head of yours when you’d daydream in class, or when you were writing during breaks. But he knew he’d never hear the end of it from Tommy if he talked to you, so he chose the easy way out. Coping by making fun of you. At least that way, he never had to prove to anyone if he liked you or not.

But it wasn’t fair, not towards you, of course. He never should have treated you that way, and this was his chance of making things right. And maybe finally finding out what was always happening in that pretty mind of yours.

You were stacking books on the shelves at your job, humming a tune to yourself. You liked your job, you always got to buy books at discounted prices and read whenever it was quiet. It was a nice step-up to what would hopefully become a real writing job one day, having your own books sold in a place like this.

“Excuse me,” a voice stirred you from your daydreaming, “I’m looking for something new to read.”

You turned, and as soon as you once again caught sight of Steve, your customer service smile faded into a scowl. “You stalking me now, Harrington?”

He put up his hands in a defensive position. “Woah, jump to conclusions much?” He chuckled nervously. “No, I uh... Robin told me you worked here. So I decided to drop by.” He followed closely behind you as you walked to the back to start stacking the shelves there.

“So what are you really doing here, besides bothering me?” You turned, a book clutched to your chest. It reminded him of how you used to walk the halls, always with a book held over your heart. It was almost poetic, now that he thought about it. He knew books were your comfort, so it only made sense you’d always keep one near.

“Like I told you,” he leaned against one of the shelves, hand slipping down just a tad which almost made him lose composure, “I’m looking for somethin’ new to read.”

You raised an eyebrow, and you had to admit, he had your attention. “You?” You scoffed, followed by an almost mocking chuckle. “Shit, I didn’t even know you could read.”

He pretended to be hurt, hand over his heart as he said your name in an offended tone. “I’m wounded! I’m trying to explore more literature and here I am getting judged!” 

You couldn’t help but giggle, blood rushing to your cheeks from embarrassment. You were supposed to be mad, not humor his flirting, no matter how cute he was. “I uh... Well, I read this book not too long ago. It’s about two lovers who travel the world playing the music together, and one of them dies, so the other has to like, find their own sound...” You realized you were rambling a little, wide eyes looking up at him. “Or... Something like that.”

“Yeah! Yeah, that-- that sounds great. Cool. Totally.” He tried his best to brush off how your eyes were making him feel. So pretty, even when behind your glasses, he could tell how much emotion they held.

“Cool, cool,” now you were the one trying to play it cool, fingers fidgeting with the hardcover you were holding. “I’ll, uhm-- go check our stock really quick.” 

He let you do your thing as he looked around the store, flipping through the pages of random books he found. Truth be told, Steve hadn’t read a single book ever since he stopped being forced to because of high school. Not because he hated reading, he just... Wasn’t very good at it. He’d often mouth along with the words, sentence by sentence, sometimes even whispering them to himself.

You returned not long after, strangely enough, with nothing in hand. “So, I think we ran out, but uh...” You adjusted your glasses. “I can lend you my copy.” You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling nervously. “If you want.”

Steve was quite surprised by your proposal. He knew how precious your books were to you, but giving one to him? The guy who’d stomped on your own personal property not even that long ago? Damn. Maybe you were just that nice. Which made him feel even worse for treating you like shit.

“Totally! Yeah, uhm, I’ll take good care of it. Like, seriously, I’ll protect it with my life.” He grinned, and you hated how infectious his smile was. 

“Good,” you handed him your copy, and he could tell it was well loved. “I better not find any mud on this one.” He nodded at your comment, swallowing down his guilt at the memory. There was a bookmark at the front, and he could tell by the dozens of sticky tabs sticking out that you were serious about your reading. So he decided to be serious about it too.

“You can give it back whenever you’re done.” You smiled awkwardly, subtly letting him know he could read it at his own pace. “Just come drop it off when you’re ready.” He was about to thank you, when you raised a finger to interrupt him. “In the exact same condition, Harrington.” Though your gesture was sweet, he could tell you still weren’t fully on good terms with him. That was fine by him, he was glad he was making any progress at all, really. 

“Yeah-- yeah, for sure, no problem.” He stood there for a few seconds, book held under his arm as his other hand busied itself running through his hair. “I’ll uh... I’ll see you around.”

You smiled at how nervous he seemed. “Yeah, totally, see you around Steve.” You gave him a quick wave and went back to stocking the shelves.

Steve heart swelled with a familiar feeling as he walked out. He knew you were pretty, gorgeous even, but seeing you smile, and say his name like that... Man, he felt like an even bigger idiot for being such a douche to you back in the day. You were being so nice, and you had absolutely no reason to. He stood outside, thinking of your sweet voice and cute glasses, and clutched the book to his chest.

Huh. That did actually feel kinda nice.

And so he walked home like that, the entire way, with a tight hold on the book. He’d rather die than let it get damaged now.

One of the first things he did when he got home was go to his room, sit down on his bed and open the book. On the first page, you had your name written, and it brought him right back to when he first saw you again. Something inside him feels superficial and shallow for only talking to you now that you look different, but all the circumstances were different too. You’d both grown, matured, he just wished you’d give him more of a chance to show it.

But in a way, he supposed this was the first step to earning your trust.

He’d spent almost the entire night reading, smiling and even chuckling at some of your annotations. He was glad there was a key at the start, so he knew which color meant what. He’d even grabbed a dictionary from downstairs because he didn’t understand some words, but was eager to learn more. Reading your comments made it feel like you were right there with him. They were funny, making him crack a grin at how outraged you could be at some of the characters’ decisions.

He imagined your face when one of your comments mentioned you’d cried, and his heart twisted at the thought. Because he knew what you looked like when you cried, thick tears running over soft cheeks, lashes wet. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t still look pretty, but man, he was now more insistent on proving he’d changed than ever. Maybe his budding crush was helping that a little too.

A little more than a week later, he’d returned to the store you worked to return the book. Frankly speaking you weren’t sure if was actually going to bring it back, let alone in the exact same condition you’d given it to him in.

“So, what did you think?” Your face beamed a sort of excitement you’d only see when your interests were being discussed, and this was definitely one of them. Besides your boss, you never really had anyone to talk to about books. Though Steve was more of an unconventional choice, you enjoyed the conversation nonetheless.

What surprised you even more was that he’d actually read it. Like really, really read it, including your annotations and comments. It warmed your heart to know he had put actual time and effort into enjoying the whole thing, and he looked pretty cute talking about it too.

“But the ending broke my heart, seriously—“

“I know, right? How could she not have forgiven him for not leaving behind the music sheets? It was clearly to help her move on!”

“Ugh, I know! Man, you get it.” He laughed softly, fingers running through his chocolate colored hair.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” You laughed along, the noise in your throat slowly dying out as you got a bit too caught up in the sight of him. Steve Harrington was a handsome young man, that was common knowledge. There was a reason all those girls were always swooning over him, and you hated to admit that you could see where they were coming from. But you didn’t like the overly cocky, flirty side of him you knew in high school. You like this side, the soft, considerate, attentive Steve you’d been getting to know a little better.

Yeah, you were growing fond of him. 

Which is exactly why you’d said yes to hanging out with him at the park the day after. Just “hanging out”, in his own words. He’d been careful not to make the same mistake he did the first time he talked to you, rather easing you into spending time with him one on one. He’d hate to break your trust now that you were finally able to look at him with something other than anger in your eyes.

It was already quite late when the two of you met up. You’d been busy with work, and him with helping out Dustin, so once the two you arrived at the park, it was already dark. You didn’t mind, though. Less chance of other people bothering you. 

You settled on a more secluded area, Steve had even been nice enough to bring a blanket to sit on. You were initially just going to discuss the contents of the latest book he’d borrowed from you, but you had a feeling something else was left to be said.

And he was well aware of this too.

So when you were staring up at the sky, moonlight illuminating your features in a way he’d only seen described in the books he had read, he figured he couldn’t keep talking to you without clearing the air. You deserved that much.

“You know,” he cleared his throat, “I thought about what happened a lot.”

You bring your gaze over to him, tilting your head slightly. “My my, whatever could you mean?” You said, teasingly so. He knew you wanted him to just say it. And who was he to deny you of a justified apology.

He took a deep breath, fingers running through his locks. It had become almost a nervous tic to him.

“I’m really sorry about everything I did.” He said, in the most genuine tone he could muster. “Seriously, I-- I’m just kind of... ashamed, really.” 

You could tell he was struggling to look at you, and you wondered how much thought he’d given this already.

“You never really realize how stupid and insignificant high school shit seems until you get out in the real world, you know? Like-- none of it matters, none of that popularity, shit, and-- and I wish I’d just realized that sooner because now--” He caught sight of your eyes and for a second, completely lost his train of thoughts. He realized he wasn’t getting to the point, suddenly understanding Robin’s need to nervously ramble entirely.

“Point is, I’m really, really sorry for the way I treated you.” His hand inched closer to yours, itching to grab it to emphasize his point. “I’ve changed a lot, and I hope that’s become at least slightly believable.” He smiled nervously, all kinds of possible responses you could give running through his mind.

They all came to a halt when he saw you smile.

That sweet, kind smile he’d seen back in high school and avoided because of how it made him feel.

The same smile that was currently reducing him to a nervous teenage boy with a crush.

“It’s okay, Steve.” You spoke softly, and the words came as a mercy to his overbearing thoughts. Your hand moved over his, and you ran a thumb over his knuckles. His hand was soft, warm, and a little clammy from what you could only assume to be the nerves.

“I’m not gonna make you beg for my forgiveness, don’t worry.” You chuckled, and his heart damn near melted at the sound. He secretly wished they could bottle whatever feeling your laugh gave him, so he could keep it with him in times of need.

“Really?” He tilted his head, brown locks falling in different ways around his face. “Because, like-- I’ll do it. Wait--” He got up on his knees and reached besides the blanket, plucking a stray flower from the grass and kneeling in front of you. He cleared his throat in an exaggerated way, before addressing you with your name. “My dearest, will you please forgive me for being a top shelf douchebag to you before?” 

You couldn’t contain your laugh, feeling your face heat up at the sight of him kneeling in front of you. “Steeeeve!” You exclaimed, hands coming up to cover your face. “Okay, okay, I forgive you!”

He chuckled along with you, reaching out and gently tucking the flower behind your ear. “Alright, well--” he sat down again, now significantly closer than before, turned towards you. “would you perhaps do me the honor of going out with you then?”

You bit your lip, pretending to think about your answer as he looked at you in anticipation. Instead of answering, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his plush lips. It was better than you’d imagined, his hand finding its way on your cheek as he melted into it. He made a soft, almost pleading noise, once you pulled away, and you swore he’d never looked prettier. 

“Sure, I’ll go out with you.” You brushed a lock of hair out of his face. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

He grinned. “I’d hope so, after a kiss like that.”

“Shut up.” You muttered, before connecting your lips again.

He would have done so either way. Because you’d officially rendered Steve Harrington speechless. And painfully in love. 

[charismaofobedience]

Nu carnival is a great game because you have so many things being represented such as

Garu and Karu - System rep with a pretty good writing and a trauma behind their system forming. dumb puppyboy rep

Rei - Hypersexuality and the dehumanization of self to the point you view sex as nothing more than a coin for a certain time. brat power bottom who can't shut up

Olivine - Religious guilt and finding your own place in society without others expectations. huge tits (bottom version)

Yakumo - The struggles of controlling oneself to not hurt those who you love while also learning to accept others love. constant struggler disorder

Edmond - Repressed sexual desires and learning to embrace those and be yourself among those you trust. anime tsundere disorder

Aster - Being 'born' out of necessity and need to someone to eventually have them leave you with no reasonings or explanations with you having to solve things on your own, without someone you depended on. capitalist transmasc twink

Morvay - Same as Aster but also being constantly equated to just your sexual self and having others treating you as simply that or how dumb you are when you're so much more than that. slutty bimbo (male) (not a himbo) rep

Blade - Being deemed as defective due to the way you simply behaved when still young while noticing the nature of others during that time and being made to fit the others ideals of you so you weren't left aside. being just a silly goofy guy :3

Dante - Having to assume heavy responsibilities at a young age and how this affects one in their future while also having those who don't know you judge you for your harshness when you are simply trying your best. bad dick game

Quincy - Having others taking your help while at the same time being afraid of you and keeping you at distance due to this fear. huge tits (top version), sleepy disorder

Kuya - Feeling ostracized by those you know by your simple nature and who you are as a person, being left all alone by simply feeling like no one could understand you. knotting and mpreg kink

Eiden - Growing up in an orphanage. Being in a low-key shitty workplace. Suddenly being dragged to a new place you don't know anyone in and having to adapt yourself to it. Being put responsibilities and titles upon you that you simply weren't prepared for. having others hopes put upon you while at the same time others doubt your own aptitude to the job. Being compared to someone who came before you and how you are nothing when compared to them. and perhaps the most important thing the struggles of sluts in modern gay society and having to deal with your polycule where all the members are lowkey freaks

[dreammeiser]

✨"I've Lost track of My Story long ago. Are You Lost too?"✨ Archie Aster is Dreamalong's Errant Storyteller, weaving stories about his nocturnal adventures. He moonlights as the town's Dream Maker, hopping around the Dreams of citizens to see what ails them. Archie and his trickster Living Shadow like to trivialize whatever danger they're in with cartoonish mockery, ha! Goodest Night, Starbright!

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Nu carnival boys as omegas and how they deal with their heat

Warnings: ABO, suggestive material with Olivine, drug use with Edmond and Rei

Yakumo

He needs a big nest. It's easier to take him back home because he already has an entire room set up for this. His heats are unfortunately long but as long as he has his nest it's okay. You will have to bring him anything he may need when he's in there because no force can get him out. Cuddle with him or not he's okay. He knows you love him because he's surrounded by your scent and those he cares about. He's not clingy or distant, he just wants to get through this without leaving his fluffy little room. He was extremely scared to let you into his nest the first time, but when he did finally let you in you realized that it was already covered with your shirts and jackets. He feels guilty about stealing your scented clothing but he is not giving it back. Not that you mind.

Edmond

The king has been suppling him with suppressors so he can do his job and not have to deal with his heat. Unfortunately being on suppressors for years is not healthy for someone. He was so scared when his suppressors didn't work because his body built a tolerance and he went through a full heat cycle for the first time. He becomes super sensitive during this time so he doesn't want any physical contact. He gets sensory overload easily but sit near him and he'll use you as a grounding force. Just let him touch you at his own pace so he doesn't get overwhelmed. He gets really timid and skittish during his heat, and he hates how it makes him feel. He appreciates how understanding you are during these times, but was scared at first because he didn't know how you would react.

Olivine

It's hard to smell when his heat is coming because he's always covered in incense. However when it hits, it hits hard. He doesn't want to worry anyone so he ignores his heat until he's in so much pain he collapses. Unfortunately there are plenty of people who want to take advantage of him so you need to be the first to find him if he does. He wants to bathe in your scent, so give him your shirt to wear and he's happy. He will ask you to help the church since he can't do his duties like this. Help the church to make him stop worrying but spend time with him too. Once he's in his nest he's not leaving until his cycle finishes. He loves your presence and when he's like this you can convince him to do pretty much anything, he kind of stops thinking. That makes it easy for you to just tell him to relax and let you take care of him.

Quincy

He smells so strong when his heat finally hits, and it smells so good! His scent is very musky and the pine sap undertones is the only hint of sweetness. He smells like an alpha even when he's in heat. His heats are not frequent and they don't last long, only about 2 days every few months. He used to just wander into the woods and come back after a few days preferring to handle it alone, but now that he has you (as the wonderful loving alpha you are) he loves snuggling up with you through his heat. His heat never bothered him much and it was really only his scent that gave him away. He loves having you with him though. He may get a little possessive during this time but he's mostly normal. If he wanted to he could just go about his life as normal, but he'd rather spend the time with you. He doesn't use a nest so you'll just be hanging out in his cabin mostly. He also becomes a little more open to PDA like hand holding.

Kuya

He is slightly more obnoxious than usual right before it starts, wanting to push you away because he hates not feeling in control. When he finally enters his heat he's a big pile of mush. He's also a lot more honest than he'd like. Gifts and other things make him really happy and he'll tell you just how much he loves you pampering him. Just don't bring it up after his heat is over because he'll deny it to the end. He also has no scent, so besides the personality shift you can't tell when he's in or out of his cycle. Technically he does have a floral scent, but it's so faint that unless you are right on top of him you can't even tell it's there. Sometimes when he's not in his heat he'll be a little mean in hopes that you'll bring him a present.

Blade

He recognizes the warning signs really early on and gets actually pretty excited about it. He loves curling up in the nest that you lovingly filled with soft and cute things for him. Somehow he became more cuddly than normal. His heat isn't that bad, it's just uncomfortable for him if you're not around. His scent turns super sweet like candy and is really strong. He doesn't really need the nest because his heat doesn't cause him too much discomfort, but there's no way he's missing out on an opportunity to be surrounded by you and other cute things.

Garu

He wants to be on top of you the entire time he's in heat, and I mean the entire time. You aren't allowed to even move without him whimpering like he's in pain. Not that you were going to leave but sometimes you just need to adjust. The easiest way to leave the nest (if you absolutely have to) is to pick him up and carry him with you. He'll have his face buried in your neck or chest the whole time. He isn't actually in any pain physically, but he gets extremely distressed if he can't feel you with him.

Karu

Anger. He tries to fight his heat and it just hurts him more. You are going to have to fight to get him into a nest, but once you do he is not leaving and neither are you. He's a strong independent boy that doesn't need an alpha! …But as long as you're here he might as well scent you. He wants to provide for you so if you smell his heat coming early you should encourage him to go hunting that way you won't have to, and he can feel like he is still taking care of you during his heat.

Dante

Stubborn idiot pushes through the pain of his heat. He doesn't have a very strong heat scent but that's because he wears a rare incense to mask it. He will go about his day as normal, fighting, training, being a good ruler, but he collapses into his nest the moment the sun sets. He doesn't like a big nest but he does want you by his side. Your scent helps relieve some of the pain that's built up during the day. If you try to pamper him with gifts he will probably get mad. He doesn't like being spoiled when he's in heat, but after he'll be fine with it. He can be nippy during this time but if he gets really aggressive he will apologize afterwards. You need to keep an eye on him during the day when he leaves to do his duties. There is no convincing him to stay inside during this time but you do your best to take care of him without interfering.

Rei

Oh he despises his heat. He is almost always sick when his heat hits, and it's entirely his own fault. He hates his heat cycle so much that he makes different drugs or blockers or suppressors to try and stop it. For someone who doesn't show much emotion normally he gets incredibly fired up around his heat. He does not want anybody anywhere near him during this time, despite needing the help. He hates that physical contact makes him feel good and that he finds your scent relaxing. He tries so hard to push you away but sometimes you just need to force him into a blanket so he doesn't make himself sicker. He is also going to be mad at you for a few days because it worked.

Eiden

It would be so cruel if he never experienced a heat cycle until he came to this world. Unfortunately for him that's what I'm going with. You smelled his heat coming only hours before it hit him. No one realized he was going to be an omega so no one had a nest prepared for him. If he's joined up with the clan members one of them could lend their nest. If not he spends the entire time acting as a weighted blanket, laying directly on top of you to take in your scent and warmth. This is the first time his head has felt fuzzy like this and it does scare him at first, but you're so patient and caring as you help him through his heat. You make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Aster

I know it's hard but please keep yourself covered when he's in heat. He gets more cuddly and it's adorable, but he also gets a lot more bitey. The first time you were with him during a heat he almost drank you dry. He thinks your scent is calming and delicious. Give him lots of scented shirts and you'll be okay. He does like cuddling with you but you just have to be mindful of how close you are to his mouth. You have to be careful when you're getting in or out of his nest because all the fabrics that fill it are incredibly expensive, and if you tear a single piece he is going to make you pay.

Morvay

Honestly he's so clingy and needy in general that it's hard to tell when he's actually in heat, or faking for attention because he knows you'll spoil him. Not that you don't spoil him anyway but he absolutely loves when all of your attention is on him during his heat. He becomes a little more greedy during his heat. His scent doesn't become stronger but it does become thicker. Like his scent lingers more and it feels like it sticks to you. You don't mind wearing his scent, and he loves when you smell like him and when he smells like you.

[astermacguffin]

Help me finish my degree

Almost a year has passed and still no justice for my dad and his coworkers who got unjustly fired under the guise of "restructuring" the organization. For those curious, the company's name is Duty Free Philippines, and they're doing everything right now to delay the case that the union filed against them and avoid paying their employees what they're owed.

Although my work is enough to sustain me for everyday living, the big cut in the family budget means that my education is getting compromised. Thankfully due to help from your donations (I cannot stress enough how THANKFUL I am for y'all) I was able to continue my studies the previous year.

I dislike begging for help as much as anyone, but I'm literally in my graduating year and I just need one last help to push through this final stretch for my degree. The breakdown for the expenses is in the cut below, but in total I would need 37,130.50 pesos, or 664.07 US dollars (as of Feb. 2, 2024).

I don't have any means of repaying y'all for your help, but if you're interested, I'm putting in the replies a google drive link of all my major works in philosophy (multiple of which have garnered me invites to various conferences). My main specialization is logic and philosophy of language, but you will also find my works in other branches like art studies, ethics, philosophy of law, Filipino philosophy, and philosophy of religion. Again, thank you so much!

Donation options:

paypal.me/RVAster

2. Remitly:

Send money to: Philippines

Delivery method: Mobile money

GCash/Maya account: 09291580204

Tuition breakdown:

Tuition: 24,630.50

Monthly rent: 2,500 pesos x 5 months = 12,500 pesos

Tuition + Rent = 37,130.50 pesos

[logicpng]

i dont have much to show for now, but I managed to make this dingus

[faster-faster-aster]

Gold and Gravel ~2k words, marcnaia immediately post-Aragon 2024

Pecco has been watching the patch of sunlight on the wall of his motorhome change shade and shape for the last several hours. White fades to gold; the rectangle slants into a diamond as the sun slants towards the horizon. Good, he thinks. The sooner it sets, the sooner he can set this wretched weekend behind him. 

If he closes his eyes, strains his ears to listen, he can still hear the cheers and chants of Marc’s fans. It’s not so loud, anymore— the roar giving way to a low and distant rumble, like thunder on the horizon. Going out like the tide, washing into the streets of Alcañiz. It will go on all night, he is sure of it. And maybe if things were different he’d be celebrating too— if he’d taken Acosta’s place, or better, Martin’s— if he had shared the podium with Marc again. Alex could have joined them too, but that possibility is gone now. Buried in the gravel, crushed somewhere in the mess of metal and limbs. 

Pecco shudders. Shifts the ice pack on his shoulder that has long since melted. It’s not his fault, he knows. The stewards said it wasn’t, laid the blame evenly between them— but the guilt creeps in all the same. At very least he was too harsh on Alex after the race. He’d meant it then— hurting and angry and embarrassed—  he wouldn’t say it now. 

Because if he were better, he would have known not to take the risk. If he were better, he’d deserve the title he may as well have handed to Martin. If he were better, he wouldn’t have been battling Alex at all— would have been running at the front. Fighting with Marc, maybe, like they had three years ago. 

He sighs. Maybe if he were better he would be able to rein in his thoughts, wouldn’t be sitting here spinning his wheels and going nowhere. He’ll be up all night, at this rate, unless Carola comes and drags him to bed. 

There’s a knock at the door. Pecco winces as he pushes himself up onto his elbows. It’s probably Bez, he usually likes to stop by after a bad race, so he heaves himself the rest of the way up, walks stiffly to the door and opens it. 

And stands there, blinking in surprise, because— it’s Marc, on the other side of the door, one hand fiddling with his watch. 

It takes at least a minute for Pecco’s brain to reboot. When it does, all he’s able to say is a quiet, questioning, “Uh, hi?” because— this is the last place Marc should be, today. 

“Hi,” Marc says. “Can… can I come in?” he asks, a moment later, and Pecco realizes he’s been blocking the doorway. 

“Yeah, of course,” he says, stepping aside. 

He follows Marc in, goes to the counter and sits on it. Marc leans on the table opposite him— Pecco watches as he glances over, as he frowns at the ice packs on the shelf by the couch, the half-empty packet of ibuprofen. 

The guilt washes over him like a wave again, pools cold and heavy in his chest. The only reason why Marc would come here, when he should be off celebrating somewhere with his team, is because of the crash. Because of what Pecco had done to his brother, what he’d said about Alex afterwards. Marc must be here to bite back. Harder, Vale had said, now that he’s seen Pecco bleeding. And Pecco doesn’t want that— can’t stomach any cutting words from Marc when he’s heard them enough in his own head. 

Marc opens his mouth but Pecco speaks first, ducking his head as he does. “If you’re here about Alex, I’m sorry,” he says, and it feels too much like baring his neck for slaughter, but he continues. “I was upset, hurting; the interview, what I said, I meant it then— but not anymore. I know he didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Pecco,” Marc starts, but he just shakes his head. 

“And I— it was a stupid move. Too risky. Another lap and I could’ve caught him anyways, it was my mistake.”

“Pecco, I—” Marc starts to say again, but Pecco presses on. The longer he’s talking, the longer Marc isn’t— the longer he can delay the inevitable. 

“I’ll apologize. Next chance I get, I will— I will walk it back. I don’t want to make trouble for him.” And that’s all he has to say— all his cards laid on the table. He clenches his jaw, grips the counter with white knuckles. Braces for the bite. 

But Marc’s voice is soft as he says, “Pecco, look at me,” and it’s so unexpected— what can he do but lift his head?

Across from him, Marc is standing in the patch of sunlight he was watching earlier. It paints gold over the planes of him, his face, pools warm and honey-rich in the dark of his eyes. Catches in his hair like a glowing halo. Winning looks good on him— there is a weightlessness, an ease to him now that Pecco has never seen before, only marred by the concerned slant of his brow. 

“I appreciate it— you should apologize to Alex,” Marc says, slow and measured, “but that is not why I am here.”

“Then why?” Pecco asks before he can stop himself. “You should be celebrating, no?”

“No, actually. We are leaving for Madrid in an hour— no time.”

Pecco must look confused because Marc waves his hand in a vague gesture and says, “Eh, I’m too old for all of that now. Maybe in a few years you’ll understand.”

Pecco just shakes his head. Doesn’t want to think about being Marc’s age, having to endure the same things he has. “You look— you looked fantastic all weekend,” he says instead. “On the bike,” he clarifies. “Even if it were just a few drinks, you would deserve it.”

He watches Marc’s reaction closely, half-hoping the praise will catch him off-balance like it does to Pecco. But Marc just smiles at him, all relaxed lines and incandescent teeth, and Pecco is the one knocked unsteady. 

“Eh, maybe,” Marc says. “But look at you, distracting me again.” 

Pecco just blinks at him. If he’s not here about Alex, or to fish for congratulations, then why the fuck is he here?

He must be making a face, because Marc laughs, shakes his head, and says, “Pecco, I came here to check on you.”

“What?” Pecco breathes, feeling like he’s suffocating under the bike again. Because that— that doesn’t make any sense. That’s not who Marc is, not ruthless or cunning like Pecco has come to expect. Surely it’s just another mind game. 

But Marc sounds entirely genuine as he says, “The crash— I saw on the replay. It was bad for Alex but it looked worse for you.” He winces as his eyes flick down to the collar of Pecco’s shirt, where the bruising edges its way up his neck. “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Pecco shrugs. “It could have been worse— my helmet did not catch on the tyre,” he says, slow and measured, trying not to give too much away. “Both of us walked away from it. No broken bones.”

“That’s always good,” Marc says with a knowing look. 

There’s a beat of silence between them. Marc seems unsatisfied, somehow, waiting for more— and maybe that’s the game, Pecco realizes. Offer a bit of vulnerability, see who flinches first. He hasn’t made a good counter to Marc yet, but he can. 

“Still fucking hurts, though— I am very bruised,” he says. “Do you want to see?”

Marc perks up at that. “Sure,” he says casually, but the way he leans forward belies his interest. 

So Pecco hops down from the counter, turns his back to Marc, and shucks his shirt off over his head, wincing as the movement strains his sore muscles. 

He doesn’t dare look at Marc, but he hears his sharp intake of breath, how the table shifts as he stands. “Shit, Pecco,” he hisses as he steps closer and then— 

Marc’s hand brushes the curve of Pecco’s shoulder blade, feather-light, testing. The sensation sings up his spine, sets him alight— he only just suppresses the urge to shiver. Because he knows what Marc must see, the pale skin of his back mottled purple from neck to tailbone; he’d caught a glimpse of it in the mirror and had to look away immediately, feeling ill. He’d hoped Marc would do the same.

But he seems to have no such reservations. He splays his hand out over the bruise, gently probing with his fingers. It feels— it feels good, Pecco thinks, the warmth and pressure like a soothing balm over the ache. He had tensed up, when Marc had touched him, but he relaxes into it as Marc rubs little circles down his spine. Then he reaches the small of Pecco’s back, where the skin is flushed pink, raw and irritated. It stings when Marc touches it, little jolts of pain, but then he presses down—

“Ah, fuck,” Pecco hisses, flinching away. “Gentle, please…”

“Sorry,” Marc says, and Pecco looks over at him, needs to know if that was intentional or not. But Marc does look genuinely contrite, brow furrowed in concern as he studies Pecco’s face. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, reaching out to rest his hand on Pecco’s shoulder. “That is— that is not a bruise, is it.”

“No, it’s not,” Pecco says. “It is a burn, from the exhaust— got me through the leathers.” 

Marc makes a small sound, low in his chest, eyes flicking back up to Pecco’s face. Before he can react, Marc is sliding his hand up to the nape of his neck, pulling him down into a hug. 

And he’s caught completely off-balance, again, stands there for a moment before it occurs to him that he should reciprocate. So he winds his arms around Marc’s back, feels him stroke a hand down his spine. Marc is so warm, pressed to him front-to-front like this— what can Pecco do but tuck his head into Marc’s shoulder, melt into him like honey, golden and sweet? 

He doesn’t want the moment to end, but all too soon Marc is stepping away, trailing his hands to rest on Pecco’s arms. “I am glad you are okay,” he says, looking up at Pecco wide-eyed and earnest, and he— he believes him, Pecco realizes, rocking him like a punch to the gut. 

But just as quickly Marc’s face relaxes again, into that easy, winning smile, as he says, “Rest well for Misano, yeah? When I said I wanted to share a garage with the world champion next year, I meant it.”

Pecco can feel his face flushing, shakes his head and says, “Okay. If only so I can beat you next weekend.”

Marc laughs and lets go of Pecco, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t push it,” he says, mock-scolding. He heads for the door— Pecco has half a mind to offer him a drink or something, get him to stay a little longer, but he doesn’t. 

Instead, he just says, “Congratulations, Marc. You were incredible.”

Marc opens the door, looks back and smiles at Pecco one last time. “See you on Thursday,” he says, and then the door is swinging shut behind him. 

The latch clicks, and it’s like a spell has broken, leaving Pecco standing there blinking in confusion. Because— he buries his face in his hands and groans, loud and long— what the fuck possessed him, to make him act like that? Marc must have laid the trap, somehow, and Pecco blundered directly into it. There’s no way he’ll be able to rest— he’ll be up all night thinking about warm hands grazing his shoulder, about deep brown eyes looking up at him with open, genuine concern. 

But it wasn’t genuine, Pecco knows, it wasn’t anything real. Just another mind game— so why, he thinks, does he wish it wasn’t?

[aster-draws]

I just wanted to tell you that it was pretty much single-handedly your fics and art that got me into the DP x DC (specifically Dead Tired) brainrot. Both the characterizations and the storylines are so beautifully crafted (and the art too, but that's obvious lol). Thank you for putting so much time and care into what you're doing for free. Thank you for pulling me into this wild fandom. Thank you for being you!

You're so sweet!!!! They are on my brain 24/7. I wasn't really into shipping danny with any of the bats when I first entered the crossover fandom, but i read some deadtired oneshot and i have been waist deep in this quagmire ever since. I'm so honored that now I am the one to drag other people in.

Have a cozy fall vibes wip that i never finished the background on :)

[wuntrum]

the joys of creation are equally the horrors of creation (in order for the things you want to exist to come to fruition, you have to make it yourself)

[plangentlyre]

If there is one thing Ichika learned about Lady Saki's tea parties, it is that one must always bring a plate of pastries as a gift.

"Oh! These are quite delicious! I urge you to tell me where you've bought these beloved cookies, Icchan!"

Even the blend of milk cannot dampen the sweet flavor that melts in Lady Saki's mouth as she cups the side of her cheek, munching on the treat gleefully.

Ichika stares at her cute expression fondly. "I just happened to read a recipe, is all. Although I couldn't have done everything without a friend's help." It was a miracle that Honami had the patience to guide her through each step without catching fire from her recklessness.

"Well," Lady Saki gulps from her teacup before continuing, "I think you did quite well, even if you think you couldn't without help. But, I would have liked it more if you invited me."

Inviting a noble lady, regardless of whether they're close friends or not, is too much of a shameless act to do.

"Ah... It might have been presumptuous to ask—"

"Nonsense!" The plates clatter from the lady's harsh impact on the table. "I cherish your company more than boring, old lectures. After all, Icchan is the bestest friend I could have! Cooking together is what friends do, is it not?"

"Y-Yes," Ichika stammers, feeling warmth crawling up her cheeks, "but it is still your duty to study as the duke's daughter and I would be disturbing you with my unimportant business."

Lady Saki's lips press into a thin line. "Even so, I want to spend time with you. And–and it makes me a little jealous that someone helped you cook other than me..." She admits in a shy whisper.

And doesn't that melt Ichika's heart even further. "My lady," she is given a pointed stare and she rectifies, "Saki, I would never replace your company with someone else's but as your personal guard, I must also prioritize your duties as an heiress." And your safety, she keeps to herself as she knows it will only upset her even more.

The title paired with her words deflates Lady Saki's resolve. It has been years since her brother's disappearance after the accident and months since she's been issued the duties in preparation for taking the family's mantle as duchess. The absence in their home has only made her clingier with each day that passes.

Ichika can only help her with so much, even if it means bringing cookies to their tea parties through her incredibly amateur culinary skills. "But I do have a secret."

"Secret?"

She smiles. "Yes. I also happened to hear that a particular tutor has taken an illness and that there might be a few vacant hours in place of someone's sessions. That's why, if it's no problem for Saki, would you..."

"Of course!" Expectedly, Lady Saki brightens as she clutches on her sleeves, rejuvenated. "We can also have a picnic by the fountain! I'll have the maids prepare everything, we can also play a couple of games and redecorate the gardens with ribbons and–"

"How about we plan it slowly, Saki?" She intervenes gently, knowing full well how passionate Lady Saki's tangents can be.

"Right, right. Let me grab some pen and paper from my bedroom." She says as she picks up her dress, already on her heels to run across the mansion's hallways.

"Calmly, Saki. Here," Ichika offers her arm, "allow me to accompany you."

A delightful giggle bursts from her friend's lips then she feels a gloved hand slide in place with her arm. Lady Saki turns a starry gaze at her.

"Shall we go, Ichika?"

Ichika complies with a content nod. At least this way she can alleviate enough of the worries and responsibilities Saki endures everyday. She can merely hope that everything will turn out well for both of their futures.

Of course, as life always is, it all goes downhill.

"Duke and Duchess Tenma have been assassinated. Young Lord Tsukasa remains missing and Lady Saki has not left her room for a week. What should we do, Hoshino-san?"

[imari4444]

Currently struggling with this scene revolving Kaeya so I tried drawing the emotions Kaeya was feeling…. Idk it’s really late and I definitely didn’t care for drawing neatly but who made the rules?

My poor depressed guy…. Oh yeah spoilers, Kaeya angst… then again next chapter is more like everyone angst :l

[astermath]

hiya! i’m a really big fan of your stranger things work and I was wondering, if youre comfortable of course, a steve x reader period imagine where reader tried to hide their period from Steve, but he finds out and is super fluffy and sweet about it? thank you!

HAHAH wow i have let this ask stew in my inbox since last year thats CRAZY im so sorry my dear,, i was going through old asks and i rlly like this prompt actually so here u go, i hope u enjoy!!!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, obv mentions of periods / menstruation, reader is referred to as female, steve being dense at first lol, regular sized font below!

wc: 1.4K

notes: while the reader in this fic is female, i am well aware not everyone who has a period is a girl, and not everyone who's a girl has a period!

Steve is one attentive boyfriend.

It’s the early stages of your relationship, the golden era, the honeymoon phase. And while you’re a still a bit nervous about it all, you couldn’t be happier, because he does it all right.

He knows your favourite snacks, what music you like, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He’s starting to figure out your ins and outs, and it’s almost crazy how quickly he’s catching on. You have no reason to feel judged by him at any point, he truly is comfort poured into the shape of a person.

So then why are you staring at your phone right now, struggling to dial his number and just tell him why you can’t make it to your date?

It’s not usually this bad, at least it hadn’t been for a while, so why now, of all moments, must you be forsaken to be terrorised by your period?

You bite your lip, laying flat onto your bed, hand over your lower stomach. It's right where the pain is just gnawing at you, just like the guilt is. But you know you’d feel even guiltier if you just stood him up, he doesn’t deserve that. You sit up, a tad slowly to save yourself from another cramp, and swallow your nerves for now.

“I’ll just… Tell him I’m sick. Yeah… Yeah I can do that.” You think to yourself.

The combination of his number had started to feel natural to your fingers now, unlike how anxiously you pressed the buttons the first time, triple checking before finally pressing call. You're triple checking again now, more so because you're not sure you can handle hearing the defeat in his voice when you tell him you can't make it.

The phone barely gets a moment to ring before he picks it up, and his all too familiar sweet voice comes through the device.

"Hey babe, everything okay over there?"

You pause a moment before replying. "How did you know it was me calling?"

"Lover's intuition." He chuckles, and it makes your heart flutter. It's not fair how easy it is for him to do that to you, but you enjoy it nonetheless. "So, what's going on?"

"I, uh..." God, getting the words out is like pulling teeth. But you'd rather die than let him think you just got cold feet about your movie date. "I'm really not feeling too well right now, Steve... I'm-- I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to cancel for tonight." Your eyes are welling up with tears before he even gets a chance to reply, just imagining his pretty face losing its bright expression when hearing your unfortunate news.

"Oh," damnit, he does sound sad, "that's okay, uhm... Is there anything I can do? What kinda sick is it?"

Shit, he's gonna make you say it, isn't he? You know Steve is a mature guy, he knows about periods, knows how they work, but you've been told to suck it up and get on with it before... A part of you is still disappointed that you just can't.

"U-Uhm... It's more like, a stomach thing, I guess?" It's the best way you can put it for now, hoping it'll put his worries to rest.

"Okay, I see..." You can nearly hear him thinking, the subtle noise of bags being moved and a fridge being opened coming through the phone. "Uh, how aboouuut... I come over to yours, and we just watch a movie at home? I still got a couple of tapes we haven't gotten to, and I can bring some light snacks that won't upset your stomach too much."

The thought of Steve caring for you while you're sick sends a warm feeling through your entire body. God, how does he just keep getting better? But you can't lie to him, right? It's not like you're really sick, unless you count the curse of menstruation as a symptom.

Before you get a chance to explain, he's talking again, and by the ruckus in the background you can only guess he's rushing to grab all his stuff. "I'll be heading out in a bit, I'll stop by the corner store too, stay put for me alright? See ya in a bit!"

You're sure he didn't realize he wasn't letting you talk, but frankly, you probably couldn't even come up with a response on time anyways. Right now, you just have to worry about looking somewhat presentable, and maybe figure out a way to tell him you're not actually sick.

By the time you've brushed your hair and brushed some mascara onto your lashes, you're already hearing the doorbell. You just manage to pull a fresh shirt over your head, before stumbling down the stairs and stopping in front of the door. With a deep, loaded, sigh you open it, to reveal your boyfriend.

Hair messed up, plastic bag in hand, jacket haphazardly thrown on. He clearly rushed to be here, still panting a little, but in your eyes, he's the image of your guardian angel, your saviour in need.

Before either of you know it, you're crying again, your freshly applied mascara now leaving thin black streaks over your cheeks. Your hands go up to cover your face, embarrassed, not even sure why you're sobbing all of a sudden. The feelings just hit you like a freight train, rocking you before you even have a time to rationalize.

Steve's expression falters, the bag he had in hand dropping to the floor in an instant, stepping in closer so he can carefully wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest. Not too tight, he doesn't want to startle you. He's a bit distraught; he's really only seen you cry at a sad movie scene before, so he's a bit unsure as to what's caught you to be so upset right now.

"I-I'm sorry..." you manage to mutter through your incoherent sobs and sniffs, effectively ruining the front of his shirt in the process.

"Hey, hey..." His big hands go up to your face, gently cupping your wettened cheeks as he looks into your teary eyes. Hell, the image of you is almost enough to make him break too. "What're you sorry for? You can't help it that you're sick, right?"

The reminder of your lie makes you want to break eye contact in shame, but it's hard to force yourself to lose sight of that soft, caring gaze of his.

"I," sniff, "I lied, I'm so sorry Steve, I-- I'm not sick, I just... I have..."

He watches you expectedly, not upset, just curious. You'd surely have your reasons if whatever caused you to cancel is making you this upset.

"I'm... I'm just on my period and it-- it hurts really bad, it's not even usually this bad, and I felt like I was overreacting and I feel so bad and--" Your ramble gets cut short by his chuckle, the same one that nearly caused you to melt over the phone earlier.

"W-Wha... Why are you laughing?" You're not sure if you should be happy or worried, you're already experiencing so much at once, it's hard to pick one emotion to feel.

"Nothing, it's just, well," he picks up the bag he dropped, opening it slightly to show the bars of chocolate, candy and your favorite chips inside. "I had a feeling."

The sight of it makes you snap out of your state of distress, and you can’t help but crack a smile through your tears. “Seriously? How?”

He shrugs, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “I told you, lover’s intuition.” He pulls you back to him and kisses your head. “There’s another bag in the car with chicken soup in case I was wrong.”

You both laugh, just hugging on your doorstep for a moment. You have to let it sink in, that maybe Steve just is that sweet and considerate of a guy.

“D’you wanna go inside, or does standing outside help with cramps?” He pulls back a little, and you fight the urge to poke him in the ribs for his sarcasm. You love it either way.

“Yeah, let’s go inside. We can watch When Harry Met Sally and I can cry my eyes out again. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

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[valentine-cafe]

. ˚◞♡ 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕  — 𝒌𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ shao lisheng 9948e x fem!reader ꒱ after a long day of spoiling you for your birthday, liseng decides to give you one final gift

˖ ࣪ ଓ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔◞ sexual content ღ fembod ღ rough fucking ღ dirty talk ღ 'slut' name ღ explicit language ღ riding ღ biting ღ overstimuation ღ unprotected sex ღ creampie ღ light degradation ღ 1.2k

˖ ࣪ ଓ 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒔◞ this is for my darling @kiatheinsomniac 's birthday! happy birthday love, hope you enjoy&lt;3

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍰 ꒱ links: m.list ღ guidelines ღ characters ღ lorebook ⊹ ۪ ࣪ 

“Long day, huh?” 

A chuckle leaves the kitsune, dark tails swishing in delight as you fall atop his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. Whining and nuzzling into his shoulder while his clawed hand comes up to cup the back of your head. A long day indeed, one of fun and spoils all thanks to your lover. 

Red nails trace along your back in an affectionate manner, brushing a variety of patterns as he eases your limp form. “Awww, poor, poor girl,” he tuts in that honeyed tone of his. One of his fluffy tails curls around your waist to hoist you closer and allows you to breathe in his floral perfumes. As sweet as his voice, well, apart from the undertone your ears, prone to all his trickery, were picking up on. 

Yet for the moment you decide to push those thoughts away and instead enjoy the warm embrace of your yokai boyfriend. He has always been quite the snuggler — and after a long day of walking and surprises, it was all that you needed. 

“Hmm,”

His hum leaves your brow arching, but just before you could even so much as question him — the kiss to your ear and the whisper that follows answers all of your questions.

“How about one more surprise?” 

                               

  . ˚◞♡ ◞ ₊˚

It seems that the spoils had yet to come to an end, for as Lisheng claimed — you still had until midnight before your birthday was over. Oh, and he intended to use those last remaining hours to his fullest advantage in the giving of his final gift. One that brought a series of whimpers and spluttered moans from your parted mouth. Lips now smudged with the lipstick he had bought you earlier as he presses hungry kiss after kiss. Swallowing your moans just as your tight cunt swallows his pounding cock. 

“Mmn, that’s it — that’s it pretty girl,” those red nails flush your skin as he grips your jaw, forcing you to face him as he continues to bounce you within his lap. He had not even bothered undressing you out of the outfit he gifted you; all he did was hoist your underwear to the side and delve right in. 

“Taking my cock so well - fuck - look at that mess. . . ”

Amber eyes flutter down to the puddle between your legs, to the way your skirt hikes and clings onto your moist flesh. A clawed hand lands a firm spank to your partially exposed thigh, before squeezing it and holding you in place. All so he can fuck up into your quivering, squirting heat whilst you could barely thrash against him. 

“Making such a mess all over the clothes I got you huh? Look at that, mngh. . . only care about cumming around my cock yeah? Yeah? Oh I know sweetheart, I knoowww,” Lisheng’s drawl drips with all that same honey as his hold on your jaw forces your gaze down to the onslaught between his legs. To the ring of cream around the base of his cock as you squeeze and take him in like you always do. “See that? See how she takes me? Hah. . . birthday girl’s still such a slut f’me.”

His typical clear words and poetic tongue are nowhere in sight. All that spews from his red lips are slews of filth, degradation and praise becoming one as he bounces you along his pulsing cock. Wet slapping mixing with your pathetic pleas and his slurred voice muffled by his kisses to your neck. He has long since painted your skin in bite marks, ones that he runs his long tongue over and delights when you whine at him. 

In response, Lisheng grips onto your hair and yanks it back, free hand running behind to spank your ass and press your cunt fully onto him. Forcing you to take all of him and enhance your high-pitched whines. “L-Li —” you try to plea amongst your spluttered cries and noises. Lashes wet with tears that drip down your face and ruin your makeup. Yet all the kitsune does is lean in, lap at the moisture and hold your head firm. 

“Words, my pretty slut.” 

A particularly harsh thrust is angled to that one spot that makes your back arch and toes curl. “Mm. . . Use your words. Come on.” Wet kisses trail up your neck before sharp teeth nip at your flushed earlobe. “Or am I gonna have to fuck you ‘till you cannot even use your voice? Hmm? Oh I-I’m sure you’d love that.” His grunt turns into a few more as he abandons his hand on your head to instead grip at your waist with both. Nails digging in just as yours rakes down his shoulders. He clings to your soft flesh with a great amount of strength as he moves your body in time with his thrusts and tempered grinds. Creating an oh so intense series of motions that has your head spinning and eyes rolling back. 

“B-Baby - please hngh,” you sob, limping over him. “C-Can’t — I-I can’t it’s. . . s’too much,” you manage to squeal amongst his onslaught of rough-fucking. 

“I know sweetheart, I know,” another grunt as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Lips pressed into your skin to muffle his own whimpers and loud moans. “One more okay? J-Just wanna feel this perfect cunt cum around me one more time.” His pants fan your flesh and he focuses his thrusts into one spot, limping your body from the tidal waves of pleasure and overstimulation crashing upon you. 

You squeeze around him — drawing his hiss into the air as you cling onto him for dear life. Eyes fluttering, breaths bated as you whine, gasp, whimper his name out. All as you are brought higher - and higher — until the final slam of the head of his cock against your sweet spot leaves you reeling, squirming,

“L-Lisheng - Lisheng! B-Baby ah - anghh,”

and sobbing his name out as you squirt around him for the fourth time that night. 

It is only then that his movements slow. Easing into a gentle grind of hips as he rides out your orgasm and cradles your twitching body riddled with overstimulation. All until his motions come to a complete standstill and he strokes a gentle hand along your face. Catching his breath from his own load that he had shot into you, that squeezes past his length still buried deep and dribbles into the puddle upon the sheets. 

“That’s it, thaatt’s itt. . . good girl.” Lisheng’s croon comes with a deep lull in your ear as he slowly slides out of you, shuddering at the loss of warmth — yet chuckling at your desperate little whine. “That a whine I hear? What happened to ‘ah, ahh Lisheng baby it’s too much’?” 

Your light smack to his chest vibrates another chuckle from it as he hoists you nearer and presses a few affectionate kisses along your face. Fluffy tails wrap around you, just as his strong arms do when he lifts you up into his hold and cradles you to the bathroom for an extended session of warm baths and body rubs. All while whispering sweet nothings and nuzzling into the side of your face. 

“My pretty, pretty birthday girl. I do hope you enjoyed your special day.”

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[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Nu carnival x top amab werewolf reader

Warnings: language, monster fucking, knot, stomach bulge, cum

Yakumo

You can not knot him the first time you fuck! Yes he loves all of you, but you will rip the poor boy in half! He really wants to take all of you to show how much he loves you. He's scared at first because of your size but after you help him relax it's okay. After you both finish it doesn't matter if you are tied or not, he will fall asleep snuggled into your fur. You're always cautious about not hurting him with your teeth or claws and he's always grateful for your gentleness.

Edmond

I've said it before and I'll say it again. He. Was. Born. To. Bottom. It takes a little effort to fit your fat knot in his tight hole but once you do it stretches perfectly to fit you. He's so full and his little whimpers are like music to your beastly ears. He says he prefers sex in your human form but you can smell how much more excited he is when you shift. Little liars get fucked a little harder.

Olivine

Please knot him. Please he wants you to fill his ass so bad. The slight pain from your knot stretching his ass to the limit makes him see stars! He goes dumb on your dick it feels so good. He loves you no matter what form but he will beg you to let him take your knot. He loves the full feeling of being knotted and resting against you. Use your sharp claws to pull at his chains or pinch his nipples when he's trying to catch his breath. He'll cum a few times before you deflate.

Quincy

Oh sweet sweet primal fucking! You two play fight to see who will top (his idea) if he wins he will fuck your sweet ass in either form, if you win though you have to take him in whatever form won. So far only your wolf form has been strong enough to take him. It won't end until both of you are covered in bite marks and scratches, and he is properly filled with your knot and cum. Be rough he can take it, just know he's going to be rough back.

Kuya

Just so you know he has made a dildo copy of your knotted dick. He uses it when you aren't around (and he misses you). Pray you don't find it because this sly fox will use it on you instead. He'll have you fuck him with your own knot in your ass. Just because you are fucking him doesn't mean he won't still target your weak spots. He will rub the base of your tail or nip your ears, anywhere that will excite you further. Wreck him. He deserves it.

Blade

He does not see the difference between you and a normal person. He does however feel the difference when you fuck his synthetic brains out with your giant knotted dick. Fuck you make him feel so good darling. Be thankful your werewolf form has more stamina because he can go for a long time.

Garu

He's so small compared to your wolf form. You can see his stomach bulge a little after you knot and fill his ass with cum. Thankfully being a wolf as well he is built for this. He takes your knot so well like the good boy he is! Praise him, pet him, and fuck him good.

Karu

He tries to make a deal like “I'll take your knot if you take mine”. After you fuck him really good that deal kind of goes out the window. His knot is not as big as yours because of his humanoid body. It was something he was self conscious about before, but now he doesn't care because you feel so good in his ass.

Dante

Given his beast tamer status everyone expects him to top no matter what form you are in… but that's not always true. He has let you top only a few times and when he does its amazing. He lets you leave your marks all over his body as they mix with his tattoos. The only thing he hasn't let you do is knot him. He's always worried about danger coming from the dead zone and can't take the risk of being stuck on your knot if anything were to happen. Maybe one day he'll let you fill his ass properly, but not yet. He wants your knot but can't justify the risk.

Rei

Fuck him up. He talks a lot of shit and the best way to shut him up is to replace his words with moans. Honestly I can't tell if he antagonizes you just for the fun of it or because he wants you to fuck him rough. Whatever it is he's into it. He knows you're still human but he's got a thing for you going a little primal and acting on instinct. When you stop using your brain it makes him feel more comfortable not using his.

Eiden

Well this is definitely new for him. In his world you are a fantasy and one he is so excited to try! His mouth is watering the minute he sees you excited. He will take your big werewolf dick any way he can. Oral, anal, hand job, any way he can think of. Of course anal is his favorite but he has to at least try everything once. It was difficult for him at first to fit all of you in his ass but Eiden is nothing if not determined. Either way he loves sex with you, whether in human or werewolf form.

Aster

Who says werewolves and vampires have to fight? Sometimes they fuck instead. His bites are so much more sensitive when you are in wolf form and he takes full advantage of that. He doesn't prefer to be knotted mostly because he doesn't like feeling stuck. He will let you occasionally but you have to really get on his good side first. A little bribery goes a long way when you have puppy eyes.

Morvay

Yup he's great right now. He loves both your forms but goes feral when you dick him down in your wolf form! He will happily sit impaled on your knot for hours. Whenever the knot shrinks he will moan the dirtiest things in your ear to keep you hard. You make so much werewolf cum that he should be full for days but he's always wanting more.