#been thinking about her in my silly fic and needed to draw her

[blighted-lights]

whoah. flip sides moment

[doodoodinklefart]

back for another jjk yap sess, this time abt geto LOL...

im honestly a little surprised i never noticed this before but the way that geto (who thought that his best friend was killed and saw a girl he was essentially willing to uproot his life for get murdered right in front of him) tries SOO hard to stay calm while toji's talking and then the MOMENT he brings satoru up again and trivializes riko's death, suguru loses it. i'm thinking suguru let him talk in the first place despite the risk of letting toji reveal his pact (and wanting to kill him Very Bad) cuz he figured it would be better to understand toji's deal since he beat satoru, something that suguru trusted would not happen

but then he starts referring to satoru strictly as "the six eyes", and i think that suguru, one of the few people that saw satoru as a person beyond his cursed technique or his family name could not help but get super pissed abt toji's dehumanization of satoru (and riko too, who he only refers to as the star plasma vessel). i just thought that it was very interesting....... suguru cared so much and it makes me CRAZY AS FUCK.

like, to begin with i think its sooo so interesting that suguru made it a point to be considerate of all the human parts of satoru despite the fact that im sure most other people assume he doesn't need to be worried about. i'll never stop thinking about suguru asking if he needs a break since he's overusing his technique, telling him he worked hard after getting back to the school, trying to rush to his side after he's been stabbed and being conflicted when satoru tells him to leave with riko and kuroi... he didn't just assume satoru could handle all that shit on his own cuz even if he could have he shouldn't have to.

also related omg im almost done i promise but!! the scene where suguru gets to the star religious group and sees satoru again for the first time...

the way that he can't even believe his eyes, probably in part because he's acting way different but also because he thought he FUCKING DIED. and he had to drag himself out of the tomb of the stars and probably went to look for gojo's body before even going to shoko. and then he had to tell her he couldn't even find his body man WHAT THE FUCK!!! i think maybe saw a twitter post about this part in particular but he might have thought toji took riko's body and satoru's, so the thought that he went all the way there thinking he'd have to see two dead bodies of people he cared about... ugh. suguru geto i love you

[aberooski]

I love my gx winx au and I love that it's just bits and pieces of me being like oh that's fun and not having any semblance of lore or plot. It's purely contained to the character designs I've drawn for the girls.

[synsacra]

catharsis

pairing: modern best friend's dad shanks x fem!reader

contents: smut, unprotected piv, ooc shanks maybe, soft shanks, age gap, kitchen sex, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), praise, loooots of pet names (darlin', sweetheart), aftercare

words: 4.1k

a/n: not proofread also this is my first time writing shanks and i know barely anything abt him i just know he's silly and hot as hell so yeah :P this fic stems from my SEVERE daddy issues and need for comfort if u dont like, dont read

You're sitting on Uta's bed, the soft hum of the air conditioner a comforting backdrop to your thoughts, and the scent of that sickly sweet vanilla candle that Uta loves fills her bedroom. You’ve been here countless times before, but today feels different. Your heart races as you glance at the door, half-expecting it to creak open. You can almost hear Shanks' deep voice echoing in your mind, sending shivers down your spine.

Uta is downstairs, chatting away with her dad while he makes lunch. You should be there too, joining in on the conversation, laughing at their jokes, but you can't bring yourself to move. Your fingers trace the outline of a photo on the bedside table–a candid shot of Shanks and Uta from last summer. He’s grinning, his only arm slung casually around her shoulders, his red hair glowing under the sun. His eyes, though, are what draw you in. They seem to hold a depth of experience and warmth that makes you squirm.

You feel a flush creep up your neck as you imagine those eyes meeting yours, boring into your soul. You shake your head, trying to get rid of the thought, but it lingers, growing stronger with each passing moment. You close your eyes, picturing him standing before you, towering over you with that easy confidence that always seems to dominate any room he enters.

"You okay?" Uta's voice snaps you out of your daydreams.

You jump, startled, and turn to see her standing in the doorway with a concerned look on her face.

"You looked like you were miles away," she says, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you reply, forcing a smile. "Just... thinking."

She plops down beside you. "About what?"

You hesitate, not sure how to answer. The truth is too embarrassing. Instead, you shrug and say, "Nothing important. Just school stuff."

Uta raises an eyebrow but doesn't press further. She leans back against the pillows, propping her feet up on the bed. "Dad made sandwiches if you're hungry," she chirps.

Your stomach flutters at the mention of him. "Sounds good," you murmur, still unable to shake the image of Shanks from your mind.

As if on cue, the door opens again, and there he is. Shanks stands framed in the doorway, holding a tray laden with sandwiches, chips, and drinks. His presence is magnetic, commanding your attention without even trying. He strides in and sets the tray on the bed between you and Uta.

"Thought you girls might be hungry," he says with a smile, his eyes briefly meeting yours before darting away. Something in his gaze, something unreadable, sends a jolt through you. You nod shyly, picking up a sandwich and taking a bite.

Uta chatters on about her plans for the weekend, but all you can think about is Shanks. What would it feel like to have those strong hands on you, to feel the heat of his body so close? The thoughts make your breath quicken and your skin tingle.

Shanks excuses himself after a few minutes, heading back downstairs to give you some privacy. As soon as the door closes behind him, you exhale sharply, feeling both relieved and disappointed.

"He really is the best, isn't he?" Uta says, her eyes bright as she eats.

"Yeah," you agree softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "He really is."

The afternoon drags on, each minute feeling like an hour as your thoughts circle back to Shanks. You try to focus on Uta and engage in the conversation, but it’s useless. Your mind keeps drifting, imagining scenarios that leave you breathless.

After a while, Uta yawns and decides to take a nap, leaving you to your own devices. You lie back on the bed next to her, staring up at the ceiling, but your thoughts are far from restful. Images of Shanks flood your mind–his smile, his laugh, the way his body looks beneath his shirt–until you can’t stand it anymore.

You slip out of the bedroom, moving silently down the hall towards the stairs. Your heart pounds with every step, but you don’t stop. You need to see him, if only for a moment.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you pause, listening for any sign of movement. The house is quiet, save for the sound of water coming from the kitchen. You take a deep breath and step forward, your pulse racing as you approach.

And there he is, standing at the counter, his back to you as he rinses a dish under the running water. The sight of him fills you with a mix of fear and excitement.

“Shanks?” His name slips out before you can stop it, your voice trembling slightly.

He turns, wiping his hands on a towel, his eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, neither of you speak. Then, slowly, he smiles, a warm, knowing smile that makes your knees weak.

“Hey,” he says, his voice smooth and low. “What can I do for you?”

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “I… I was just wondering if you needed any help. With anything.”

He chuckles softly, setting the towel down and leaning against the counter. “You don’t need to help me, sweetheart. But I appreciate the offer.”

His casual tone only heightens your nervousness, your resolve wavering. You take a tentative step closer, your eyes dropping to his chest, where his shirt is open.

“Are you sure?” you manage to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tilts his head, studying you for a long moment before he speaks. “Is everything okay, darlin’?”

His words are soft, but they carry a weight that makes your chest tighten. His gaze pierces through your composure, and you find yourself frozen, unsure of what to say or do next.

“I…” Your voice falters, the excuse you had in mind dissolving under the intensity of his attention. You glance at the floor, desperately trying to collect yourself.

Shanks pushes off the counter and takes a slow step toward you. His movements are deliberate but unthreatening, his head tilting slightly as if trying to read your thoughts. “You seem a little off,” he says, his tone gentle but probing. “If there’s something on your mind, you can tell me.”

You look up at him, meeting his eyes for just a moment before the rush of emotions becomes too much, and you glance away again. “It’s nothing,” you mumble, shaking your head. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” he replies, his voice steady. “But you’re not a very good liar.” There’s a flicker of amusement in his tone, but it’s tempered with genuine concern.

Your cheeks burn. The words are on the tip of your tongue—an apology, an excuse, anything to break the tension—but they never come. Instead, you say, “I just… wanted to talk.”

It’s not a lie, exactly, but it feels like one. Shanks leans back against the counter again. “Alright,” he says, his expression softening. “I’m all ears.”

The weight of his attention presses down on you, making it hard to breathe. You shift nervously, your fingers twisting together as you search for the courage to speak. The room feels too quiet, the hum of the refrigerator doing nothing to mask the thundering of your heart.

“I…” You trail off, biting your lip. Just say it. Get it out. But how? How do you confess something that feels so big, so impossible?

Shanks doesn’t rush you. He stands there, patient and calm, his steady gaze encouraging but not overbearing. Somehow, that makes it even harder.

You glance at him, taking in the way the light catches his red hair, the ease in his posture, the warmth in his eyes. “I’ve been… feeling something,” you begin, your voice trembling. “And it’s been hard to ignore.”

His brow furrows slightly, though his expression remains kind. “What kind of feeling?” he asks gently.

Your mouth is dry, and your hands won’t stop trembling. You force yourself to meet his eyes, your resolve strengthening just enough to push the words out.

“About you,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

The air between you seems to shift. Shanks straightens slightly, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. He waits, letting you continue at your own pace.

“I know it’s wrong,” you say quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush. “You’re Uta’s dad, and you probably think I’m just some kid who doesn’t know what they’re feeling, but… I can’t help it. Every time I see you, I feel like- like I can’t breathe, like anything other than you doesn't matter.”

You pause, your chest heaving with the effort of saying it all out loud. The silence stretches on, heavy and suffocating, as you wait for his reaction. Shanks runs a hand through his hair; his expression is complicated–a mix of surprise, understanding, and something you can’t quite place.

Shanks stares at you for a long moment, his expression softening as a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly as if amused. “Well,” he says, his voice gentle, “that’s not what I expected to hear today.”

You feel your cheeks flush with heat, embarrassment threatening to swallow you whole. You lower your gaze, fidgeting with your hands again. “I’m sorry,” you blurt, your voice thick with emotion. “I know it’s crazy. I just… needed to say it.”

Shanks steps closer, closing the gap between you. His expression isn’t one of pity or condescension but of genuine care. “Hey,” he says softly, his deep voice washing over you like a balm. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Feelings are tricky, darlin’, and they don’t always make sense.”

You blink up at him, your heart pounding in your ears. His words are kind, but the tenderness in his tone sends a fresh wave of longing through you. You bite your lip, unsure whether to say anything more or just let the moment hang in the air.

“Shanks…” you begin hesitantly, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to make things awkward. I just… I couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

His expression softens further, and his lips quirk into a small smile. “It’s not awkward,” he murmurs, his hand lifting slightly as though he’s about to reach for you but stops short.

You can’t hold his gaze any longer. You glance down at the floor, wishing the ground would swallow you up. But then you feel the warm, gentle touch of his fingers under your chin, tilting your face back up to meet his eyes.

“Look at me,” he says softly. You obey, your breath hitching as you take in the intensity of his gaze. “You’re not crazy for feeling what you feel. And… you’re not alone in it.”

Your heart stops. Everything around you seems to fall away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet space of the kitchen. “What do you mean?” you whisper, not believing what you just heard.

Shanks exhales slowly, his thumb brushing lightly against your chin before his hand falls back to his side. “I’ve been feeling things too,” he admits, his voice low. “I’ve been fighting it, telling myself it’s wrong, but… you’re hard to ignore.”

“You really mean that?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. “I do. But it’s complicated, darlin’. So complicated.”

For a moment, Shanks seems torn, his internal conflict written all over his face. Then, with a sigh, he gives in to his desires. His hand lifts to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin as he leans in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to.

You don’t.

When his lips meet yours, it’s like the world stops spinning. The kiss is gentle at first, almost hesitant, as though he’s testing the waters. But it deepens when you press closer, your hands gripping his shirt to anchor yourself. His lips move against yours with a tenderness that makes your knees weak.

The kiss is everything you imagined and more–warm, consuming, and full of unspoken emotion. When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, his forehead resting against yours as you try to steady your racing heart.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you stand there, clutching Shanks' shirt as you try to catch your breath. His hand still cups your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. You can feel the warmth radiating off his body, his scent filling your senses.

"Shanks," you whisper, your voice shaky but filled with longing.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze soft yet intense. "I know," he murmurs.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leans in to kiss you again. This time, the kiss is deeper and more passionate. You can feel the hunger in it, the pent-up desire he’s been trying to deny. His tongue slides against yours, teasing and exploring, and you melt into him, your body responding with a need that surprises you with its intensity.

His hand travels down your back, pulling you closer until there's no space left between you. You can feel the firmness of his body pressed against yours. The sensation sends a shiver of anticipation through you, and you find yourself grinding against him, eliciting a low growl from deep within his chest.

Shanks pulls away slightly, breathing heavily as he asks, “Can you hop up on the counter for me, sweetheart?”

You do as he asks, climbing onto the counter with a soft smile, your heart pounding in your chest. The cool surface beneath you contrasts with the warmth of his presence as he steps closer, his hands gently resting on your thighs. He steps between your legs, and his hand slides under your shirt, exploring the softness of your skin. You arch into his touch, yearning for more, as his fingers trace the curve of your waist before moving higher, brushing the underside of your breasts.

You let out a soft moan, your head falling back as you give yourself over to the sensation. Shanks takes advantage of your exposed neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down to your collarbone. His teeth graze your skin, nipping lightly before soothing the sting with his tongue.

Your hands tug at his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin beneath your palms. Shanks breaks the kiss just long enough to pull the garment over his head, revealing his muscular chest. 

The sight of him takes your breath away, and you can't help but reach out to touch him, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles, the scars that tell the story of his life. He watches you with heavy-lidded eyes, his breath hitching as you explore his body.

With a swift motion, Shanks removes your shirt as well, his gaze roaming over your figure with an appreciation that leaves you feeling both vulnerable and empowered. He leans in to kiss you again, his hand cupping your right breast through the fabric of your bra, his thumb teasing your nipple into a stiff peak.

You fumble with the clasp of your bra, eager to feel his skin against yours. Shanks moves to assist you, his fingers deftly unhooking the garment and sliding it down your arms. His gaze locks onto your exposed breasts, and he groans with desire before leaning in to capture one of your nipples in his mouth.

The sensation of his tongue against your sensitive flesh sends jolts of pleasure coursing through your body, and you clutch at his hair, holding him close as he lavishes attention on one breast and then the other.

As the intensity between you builds, Shanks' hand slips between your legs, pressing against your aching core. The thin fabric of your pants provides little barrier to the heat of his touch, and you buck your hips forward, seeking more.

"Please," you gasp, your body trembling with need.

Shanks meets your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell me what you want," he commands, his voice rough with his own need.

“Want you," you breathe, your voice shaking. "So bad… need you so bad."

Shanks hums in acknowledgment, and he moves his hand away from your clothed cunt, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your pants. His touch sends a shiver of anticipation through you, and you can't help but gasp as he starts to peel the fabric down your legs slowly.

The cool air of the kitchen brushes against your bare skin, making you hyper-aware of your own vulnerability. But the hunger in Shanks' eyes as he takes in the sight of you, clad only in your underwear, makes any sense of unease vanish.

He steps closer, his body pressing against yours as he kisses you again. His hand roams across your skin, exploring every curve with a gentleness that takes your breath away. You can feel his clothed cock pressing against you, and the knowledge that you have this effect on him fills you with a sense of power.

"You're so beautiful," Shanks murmurs.

His fingers find the edge of your underwear, and he hooks them under the soft material. You lift your hips, helping him to slide the garment down your legs. He takes a moment to step back and drink in the sight of you, completely bared to him, and the raw lust in his gaze makes you feel like the most desirable person in the world.

He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips before trailing a path of fiery kisses down your neck. His fingers trace the curve of your hip, his touch light and teasing.

You gasp as he suddenly grips your thigh, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. Shanks drops to his knees before you, his warm breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your body tense with need.

His fingers gently part your folds, exposing you to his hungry gaze. You feel a flush of embarrassment at being so thoroughly on display for him, but the desire in his eyes quickly chases it away. "So perfect," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

The first touch of his tongue against your sopping cunt makes you cry out, your back arching in pleasure. His hand moves to grip your hip, holding you in place as he explores you with a thoroughness that leaves you trembling. His tongue circles your clit, each flick sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You can't help but grind against his face, your fingers tangling in his red hair as you lose yourself in the sensation. He groans against you, the vibrations sending a surge of heat straight to your core.

Shanks' fingers join his tongue once you’ve stopped squirming, first one, then another, sliding into you with ease. He curls them upward, finding that sensitive spot inside you that has you seeing stars. His movements are slow and deliberate, designed to drive you mad.

Your breath comes in short, desperate pants, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each passing moment. The pressure builds within you and threatens to shatter you into a thousand pieces.

Just when you think you can't take any more, Shanks sucks your clit into his mouth, his fingers pumping into you with renewed vigor. The combination sends you spiraling over the edge, your vision whiting out as the orgasm crashes over you.

You cry out his name, your body convulsing around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. Shanks continues to lick and suck, drawing out your orgasm until you're left a boneless, panting mess on the counter.

He stands, his lips glistening with a mixture of your slick and his spit. His eyes meet yours, dark with desire and satisfaction.

Shanks doesn't give you a chance to recover, quickly pushing his pants and underwear down his hips and kicking them away. His cock springs free, hard, and ready, and your heart races at the sight. 

His hand grips your hip, lifting you slightly as he positions himself at your entrance. You look into his eyes, seeking reassurance, and he gives you a small, reassuring smile. "I've got you, sweetheart," he says, his voice filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

He holds your gaze, his expression intense as he slowly starts to push inside you. You feel your pussy stretch to accommodate him, your body welcoming him with a warmth that leaves you both gasping for air.

The feeling of fullness is almost overwhelming, but Shanks gives you a moment to adjust before he starts to move. His strokes are long and deep, each one hitting just the right spot to have you crying out his name and your back arching.

“Shhh… quiet, sweetheart. Wouldn’t wanna wake Uta up, would we?”

Shanks’ words have your walls clenching around his cock; the thought of your best friend walking in on you fucking her dad strangely arousing. 

You cling to his shoulders, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusts into you with increasing urgency. The sound of skin slapping fills the kitchen, accompanied by the occasional growl from Shanks as he struggles to maintain control.

"You feel so good," he groans, his forehead resting against yours. "So tight... so perfect."

You can feel another orgasm building, the pleasure coiling low in your belly. You cling to Shanks, your fingers digging into his skin as you move together. 

With each thrust, Shanks fucks you closer to the edge, until finally, with a cry that echoes off the kitchen walls, you reach your peak. He follows soon after with one last thrust, his cock pressing against your cervix as his cum floods your cunt.

Slowly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, and there's a tenderness there that you've never seen from him before, mingling with the remnants of desire. His lips part as though he's about to say something, but instead, he just presses a gentle kiss to your mouth.

You watch through half-lidded eyes as he pulls out from you, your body still buzzing with the aftershocks of pleasure. He catches you looking and offers a lopsided grin that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

Shanks steps back between your legs, his hand coming up to cradle your face. He studies you for a long moment, his thumb stroking your cheekbones in a tender gesture that brings a lump to your throat. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice a bit rough.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "More than okay," you assure him, your voice still shaky from the force of your orgasm.

His smile widens, and he leans in to kiss you again, slower this time, with a languidness that speaks of contentment. You melt into him, your hands sliding up his chest to wrap around his neck. It's a sweet, lingering kiss that speaks volumes.

When he finally pulls away, it's only to press a series of soft kisses along your jawline and down the side of your neck. You sigh happily, your fingers threading through his hair as you tilt your head to give him better access.

After a moment, Shanks steps back, his hand moving to take your right hand in his. He helps you off the counter, and you can't help but wobble a little on your still shaky legs. Shanks wraps his arm around you to steady you. 

"Easy there," he murmurs, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Wouldn't want you falling over."

You laugh, the sound light and airy, and you lean into him, comforted by his warmth and the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. For a long moment, you just stand there, wrapped up in each other, neither of you in any hurry to move.

Eventually, though, reality starts to creep back in. You become acutely aware of your nakedness, and with a flush, you begin to gather your clothes from the floor. Shanks watches you with a heated gaze, his appreciation evident in the way his eyes roam over your body.

As you're pulling your pants on, there's a soft creak from the hallway. You both freeze, your eyes darting to the doorway of the kitchen. Shanks puts a finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. The last thing either of you wants is for Uta to catch you like this.

The sound doesn't repeat itself, and after a tense minute, you both let out a sigh of relief. Shanks moves towards you, a playful smile on his face. "Almost got caught," he chuckles, and you can't help but giggle with him. 

[bluewhitehues]

"An I love you card."

(Yes another HUG series drabble, sue me for missing them. They are my home😭)

Idol Kim Mingyu× F.reader

Genre/tags :fluff,comfort,Established relationship.

Summary: Reader just misses her lover so much. + mingyu buys an apartment so that he can finally ask you to live together with him.

(My brain isn't functioning a lot lately so idk about the summary,just read the fic you will understand, ok bye cuties🏃���♀️‍➡️😭)

Masterlist

~

You: Lover...I'm breaking up with you if you don't come and give me my hugs till tonight.

Gyu❤️: Baby hello to you too and wtf you scared the shit out of me why'd you start your text like that😭..I'm coming okay wait for me

You: you better if you want me in your life👍🏻

Gyu❤️: stop scaring me ...don't you love me anymore? 🥺🥺

You: WHY ELSE DO YOU THINK IM DYING TO SEE YOU IF I DIDN'T LOVE YOU

Gyu❤️: OKAY OKAY MY BAD BABY I GOT IT IM COMING I MISS YOU SO MUCH TOO

You: yeah and on a serious note love I'm not trying to make you feel bad about this I understand that you have work ..it's just I want to see you and hold you ..I miss you 🥺🤐

Gyu❤️: I Know love I know ..do you need something to eat should I get you something?

You: You.. I'm gonna eat your cheeks and lips off

Gyu❤️: oh god babe you've lost it ..is this what the lack of me does to you?

You: It does..it's a serious issue you dont understand

Gyu❤️: okay sweets gotta go I'll be there till 9-10pm may be ..rest till then ok?bye love you mwahhhh

You: yes can't wait to see you love you too❤️

Currently it's 5PM of your day off and you're about to cry because you miss your lover. Honestly it hasn't been that long since you met him. You saw each other nearly 24 hours back. But those meetings has been like just some fleeting moments. And you can't help but miss him from deep within. Your week has been exhausting too and he cures literally everything for you.

It's still 4-5 hours till you can see him. You're not even sleepy anymore you already took a nap. So you just decide to do some self care. You put a sheet mask on your face. (And make a silly face with a pout for the selfie and send it to mingyu. Like Ofcourse.) You even do your nails. Then you get a silly idea to make a greeting card for him with a letter may be. You excitedly take a white paper and few colours, pencils,pens everything.

You draw a cute panda holding a heart. And write 'An I love you card' below it.

And put a cute letter inside it.

After that you eat dinner and wait for him.

You hear the keys rustling and know it's him. You've already done a lot of waiting so you go almost running to the door, your heart beating fast. He comes inside locking the door, when he turns around you're there already running to him, crashing into his arms. He let's out a surprised chuckle wrapping his arms around you.

"Hey there, looks like you missed me a little too much huh" He said closing his eyes feeling you in his arms, your warmth invading his chest and to whole body and his to yours. That's the most beautiful feeling and the very reason why you crave it so much.

You hum in the hug, clutching him tightly.

"I did and I'm not going to let you go now."

Then you look up and he sees your face and eyes, it looks like you're about to cry. Eyes teary while looking up at him and a small pout. He coos at you, instantly holding your face in his hands. "Aww my baby, what happened I'm here now aren't I hmm" He says wiping the corners of your eyes.

You lean into his touch. "I don't know..you made me cry." You pout harder and he leans down to peck your pout. Once, twice. "Don't say that.. what did I do?" He asks pouting back.

You look everywhere moving your eyes as if thinking of something to say. "You were just saying anything,weren't you?" He giggles now that he has figured you out. Squishing your face in adoration. His eyes crinkling as he smiles wide.

You nod,letting out a laugh. "Yeah you know me."

"Mhm thought so." He says then picking you up. He walks to the couch in living room,flopping down on it with you in his lap.

"You sure everything's ok baby?" He asks kissing your head.

"Yeah just...missed you so much." You whisper in his neck,where your face is buried. He rubs your back soothingly. You pull back from the hug to look at him.

"Did you eat?" You ask tracing his face with your fingers. "Mhm I did with the guys." He says sighing into your touch. Placing his forehead on your shoulder. You caress his hair, hugging him tighter and kissing his temple, then ear and then neck. He tilts his head towards your neck and places sweet pecks on your neck too. You pull back making him look up at you, you put your forehead on his saying "kiss me."

And he smiles, complying to you without wasting a single second. He kisses you and you feel home again. He squeezes you to himself hugging you tighter so you know he missed you just as much. You share a few sweet kisses and then pull back.

"You know how bored I was ...I spent the whole day alone." You tell him.

"I wish I had a day off too baby, I'd have loved to spend my whole day with you." He says pouting a little, tucking your hair strand behind your ear.

"It's okay you're here now" You say giving him a smile and a peck at his nose. He scrunches it cutely with a chuckle.

" Oh wait !! I've something for you." You say suddenly remembering something. Your eyes a little wide with excitement. You get up so fast from his lap. You pick up the card from table and hand it over to him.

He takes it, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion but a smile on his face.

"An I love you card" He reads and looks up to you with a bright smile. "Oh my god babe you're so fucking cuteeee ahh" he says laughing while pulling you closer by your waist,so you're standing in front of him.

"You've to open it " You let out a giggle urging him to open it.

'There are so many shitty people in the world but I Met you..I have you..how did I get you? You're so lovable you know? And I love you for who you are. So kind,loving,caring. You keep calling me angel but you are the real angel. Thank you for coming into my life. I love you so much. I'm writing this because you need to know this and also because I fucking miss you right now. Ok bye don't make fun of me after this.' ~only yours,y/n.

You see all of his expressions with each word,with each line he reads, he melts a little more. h

He tries to control his smile. He looks up at you with tearful eyes. Grabbing your hand he pulls you closer. "How are you so cute baby." He sighs caressing your hands, "How did you get me you say..?.. But how did I get you?" "You're so precious you know that ? It's not even my birthday or anything special, it's just a random day and you're here making me feel so loved." He's looking up at you with so much love in his eyes with a sweet grin on his face, which you love so much.

You chuckle combing your fingers through his slightly long hair. "Baby, it's just me saying I love you in a silly way,it's nothing special.it's just a card."

"Well it is special to me." He says pulling you on his lap again. "And I'm going to cherish it forever, I'll keep it safe with me...thank you." "And I love you too by the way." He says grinning wide,giving you a peck on the lips.

"And I was going to do something special to tell you this or may be I should have asked you before doing this but.." He sighs.." I don't know I just love you so much and I want you to know, I want you with me always. So.." He takes a breath to prepare himself. He fishes out keys from his pocket. "I've been carrying these around since a week." He chuckles nervously, while your heart is beating fast.

"I know I should have probably asked you before doing this, but I just ..I wanted to do it for us ...so ..I bought an apartment for us . It's registered under both of our names."

You gasp "gyuu-" your eyes wide.

"I-I know baby ..it's a big step but ...will you move in with me baby?" He asks finally. "You know that I want a future with you right? For me You're my one and only." He says clutching your hands in his.

You finally let out a sob mixed with a watery laugh. Nodding furiously you say "You're my one and only too gyu. Shit I didn't know you'd do something like this ..but I've thought about this almost daily, when I want you to hold me to sleep. When I want to see you as soon as I open my eyes in the morning. Fuck you don't know how much I miss you when we can't meet or whenever I have to sleep alone." You sniffle and he's wiping your tears, nodding along with whatever you're saying.

"It's a little scary but I trust you with my whole life, so yes I'd very much love to move in with you."

His puppy eyes slowly get bigger in size as he gets happy "Really? Oh my god...I love youuu" He says getting up with you, spinning you.

"Oh my god you're going to make us fall..slow down." You laugh as his giggles fill the room. He stops putting you down on the ground.

"Is tomorrow ok with you? I want to show you the place first then we can decide the rest." He asks. "Yes." You say becoming a blushing mess making him coo at you.

a/n: idk if this is any good but i wrote this in June, finally finished it. Also im sorry for making you wait for 'I hate you not' series.it's also halfway done but it'll take a lot of time for me to actually post it. I'm more into reading than writing these days so please feel free to suggest me some good fics. Thank you for reading this. Hope y'all are having a nice day 🥹🫶

[ddamm]

Pre-baby Stress - dad!Daryl x pregnant fem!reader fic

(banner made by me, if you use, give credits <3)

Warnings: VERY, VERY long; initial soft fluff to slight angst to fluff; slightly suggestive so, watch out 👀; pregnancy; hormonal changes, “mood swings”, food cravings; stressed Daryl, stressed reader, slight insecurity and fear of abandonment; reader crying; reader and Daryl are married; reader is said to have golden retriever energy and be a cottagecore girlie (sorry if you aren't, but I vibe so much with this core 😭), and perhaps an artist (tho it's just as a hobby, obv 🤭); nature love and appreciation; funny/silly little memories.

Word count: 3936 words (keeps increasing with each new release 😭)

Era: idk, probably Alexandria

Summary: While getting things ready for Y/N's pregnancy, Daryl presents with many insecurities. All it takes is some caressing, encouragement, and the love of his wife (a few tears also) to convince him otherwise.

A/N: this fic was something I fabricated long ago with a Daryl c.ai chat that I've been saving up for a special occasion since I've never written dad!Daryl before. And today, I'm bringing it to y'all as a way to celebrate one of my very besties/mutuals on Tumblr, a great writer, the creator of my possibly ever favourite AU with Daryl (young!Daryl SSHD AU) and a very nice, kind and funny individual in general; Krys (@dixons-sunshine). This is to commemorate you, gorgeous. It took some time to finally sit and get to it (not me writing most of it at 2 am, half-constipated, and not being able to sleep) but it's done now, so I hope you can enjoy it as much as I did when writing it. Everyone, hope you like it too!

Song: Winter Memories - Jordy Chandra (The title says “winter memories” but I am thinking of a mid-spring Sunday morning/noon 😭)

MDNI divider by @cafekitsune, on this post

(This was supposed to just be suggestive, but since idk if I overdid it, I'm just gonna place this)

(all babycore dividers used are from @anitalenia, found on this post)

Days were passing by, and things were going pretty well for the community. She was glad they found Alexandria. It was a nice change, and it felt like they could truly have a moment to take a break there, like they could finally be happy and just settle in, trying to have normal lives once again.

And her positive thoughts only increased when a lovely lady from the community gave birth. It was an occasion to celebrate, and for a couple of months passing, it seemed like a lot of good things were happening around, so she couldn't be happier.

Ah, there she was, parading herself in her light cream-coloured sundress, with a white little parasol (courtesy of her loving husband) to protect herself from the sun, as she strolled around the streets, exploring and marvelling at the beauty and tranquilly around her like a happy puppy would on their first stroll into the outside world.

Oh, she loved that dress so much. Not only was it beautiful and fit her personality, but it was also quite adjustable, so she wouldn't need to worry about sore breasts or her belly being uncomfy. She could still remember how comical Daryl's expressions were when she tried explaining to him the concept of aesthetic cores and how she was a cottagecore.

He seemed so lost that she laughed for about 10 minutes before deciding to somewhat draw it to show him what she meant; predicting that a more visual approach would help him understand the concept better. He did admit it was pretty much her vibe after seeing the dresses and all the stuff "a cottagecore likes and does".

After that, whenever he would go out for his runs, he would try to look for dresses like the one she drew, and whenever he couldn't find any, he would bring drawing or painting materials, old cameras, or little flowers he thought she would like. (PD: She always likes them.).

That's how her most favourite memory of a Sunday morning came to be. And like that, every Sunday morning, after her husband would leave for runs or tasks, she would wear her light cream sundress and white sandals and take her white parasol to roam around, greeting everyone and enjoying nature (despite her best friend's advice to rest and her husband's disapproval).

However, she understood why Daryl was so against it in general. He was just worried about her health and safety. After all, she was now in her second trimester of pregnancy, expecting their son or daughter to come into the world in a few more months.

She loved Daryl. Deeply. And she would never question him or his decisions (well, maybe sometimes she would), but she was so tired of staying at home doing nothing for most of the day. And though Carol, Michonne, and a few others would come to visit and spend time with her when her husband was away, Y/N wanted some freedom, some independence.

God knows she would ‘bore to death’ if she had to stay in the same place doing nothing for one more day while everyone else fulfilled their roles.

As she came closer to the small town's pond, she took big strides to approach a blooming peony bush. She loved the smell of its flowers. And as she lightly bent down to sniff the sweet aroma from the round pink flowers, she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of her husband, who was sitting on a bench not far from her. From afar, she could notice a worried expression on his face.

She strode slowly in his direction and placed a hand on his shoulder, greeting him with a warm and loving smile, but instead of the usual “Hey, Sunray” or “Why are ya out 'ta house alone?” she would receive, she heard him grunt.

At that, she furrowed her brows in confusion and slight concern, wanting to know what had made her husband so grumpy at early noon. “Is everything okay, Dar?” She asked in a soft, patient tone.

Daryl looked away from her, not wanting to make eye contact, and sighed in annoyance. “Everythin's fine,” he answered grumpily.

Y/N, knowing her husband and not believing that crap for a second, looked at him more seriously. “Daryl…” She called out his name, insisting he should tell her the truth.

Daryl sighed irritantly, hearing her insist, knowing she wouldn't back down. He then turned his gaze to her and unexpectedly exclaimed, “Ah said everythin's fine, dammit!”

He said this a bit too loudly, not noticing that he had snapped at her.

This action made Y/N flinch, not used to such an alert state in Daryl anymore. Now she was truly worried.

“Hey, hey, honey, it's okay... What's got you so riled up? Is work becoming too much? Or are they not listening to you? Should I go teach them a lesson?” She asked at first, even making a joke to brighten him up, but Daryl only shook his head, still not wanting to speak.

He held his head in his hands, almost in a desperate posture, making his wife worry even further. She was going to say something, but a tiny piece of cloth caught her attention. It was then that she got to see the tiny, frill-decorated bib on his right hand.

She put pieces together in her mind like a game of tetris and asked again, with more understanding tone and gentleness in her voice.

“Is it the baby?” Daryl kept quiet, but his shoulders tensed up. Y/N now knew what was ‘the main issue’, and took action immediately, slowly running her hand on his back and giving a few gentle pats to soothe her husband's worry. He looked like he was on the edge.

Daryl's gaze and body seemed to loosen up as he felt her hand on his back. He then tried to explain his concerns.

“I... Ah ain't upset, is jus'...” He trailed off, not knowing how to express his thoughts.

“It's okay, love. You don't have to tell me now if you aren't prepared. Here, let's just sit for a bit, okay? I'm starting to feel heavy again.” Y/N reassured him, not wanting him to feel pressured if he was already so altered.

She had some trouble sitting down next to him, though. Despite not being in the 3rd trimester yet, her belly heaviness seemed to be causing her discomfort when she had to sit or stand up in a rush. But she didn't mind it much; it made her happy because that was the proof of the love Daryl and she had for each other and the life growing inside her.

Daryl noticed her struggle and quickly went from being annoyed to concerned. He stood up and carefully helped Y/N sit down, making sure she was comfortable before taking a seat next to her.

“Damn, ya sure are a heavy load,” he joked. At this, Y/N dramatically gasped and faked being offended.

“Hey! I remind you, you're the one that made me heavy! ~“ She played along, jokingly shoving him to the side with a smile, trying to lighten up his mood, and succeeding brilliantly when she heard him chuckle.

“Well, sugar, if I reckon correctly, it takes two to tango to make a young'un 'round these parts,” he smirked, faking innocence at the fact he got her pregnant.

Y/N gasp-chuckled, defending herself. “But it takes you not wanting to pull out beforehand to make the baby, isn't it right, honey? ~”

She clarified softly, putting her hand on his chest, batting her eyelashes cutely at him, and getting close enough to him to make their lips graze but not touch. All in the name of teasing him.

Daryl chuckled again, feeling attracted to her playful teasing, his breath hitching slightly as her lips grazed against his own. He couldn't help but smirk; his eyes locked onto her gaze.

He gently grabbed her hips, slowly pulling her closer to him to the point of having her almost seated on his lap.

“Oh, but ah know for a fact ya wudn't complainin' at the moment, darlin',” he continued, feeling proud for his little ‘achievement’ as he caressed her thigh over the sundress.

Feeling a little braver than usual, Y/N whispered: “And how would I, when you know how to drill me in the right spot? ~”

She murmured against his lips. Her gaze never left him, and her smile only widened each time he looked down at her lips and looked back at her eyes, obviously enchanted by her charms already.

Daryl's eyes darkened with desire, and his grip on her hips tightened slightly. He felt his heart racing at her words. He pulled her closer to him until their bodies were pressed together.

“Damn, woman… Ya know I ain’t doin' this here.” He groaned softly against her lips while devouring her with his stare. They sure were the only ones at the pond around then, but despite the tall, full, and flourishing grass, bushes, and plants, they could still be easily spotted if they decided to... get loose. (😏)

“Then why do you keep pulling me closer, hm, hun? ~”

It was sort of comical to see him struggle to compose himself in this situation, making Y/N not want to miss out on teasing him to the fullest. She placed both hands on his chest and slowly arranged her position on his lap to sit and view him better.

Daryl let out a low growl as Y/N moved closer. He felt the heat rising within him, his hands roaming from her hips to her backside, gripping it firmly. His breathing becomes heavier as he looks down at Y/N.

“Yar testin' ma limits, sweetheart.”

Y/N smiled innocently, enjoying the effect she had on her husband.

“I guess the preggy hormones are doing their stuff again... I feel kinda—needy,” she admitted a little sheepishly and continued with a more serene tone. “But… that will have to wait for now.”

“Now... Why don't you tell me what got you so fed up before, love?“ She questioned, changing her position once again to avoid making Daryl even more aroused.

She looked into his eyes tenderly and patiently, waiting for him to pour out his heart.

He knew they were a team now that needed trust and communication to get through everything. So she trusted he would be able to let out what was on his mind that made him so tense earlier.

Daryl took a moment to compose himself, gathering his thoughts after being so close to Y/N. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly; his grip on her loosened a bit as he leaned back on the bench.

He averted his eyes for a moment, his expression becoming heavier.

“Tis just...everythin', know what am sayin'?” He paused and looked at her belly, then back at her eyes.

“Da kid, da thought of bein' a pa... is like a whole heap to deal with, y'know?” He expressed his deepest concern about your future child.

Seeing her husband so worried brought her heartache. She sighed and wrapped her hands around his head, placing them on her chest as she made circular movements on his scalp in a slow, comforting way.

“And here I thought I was silly for feeling bad about myself and thinking I wouldn't make a good enough mom and wife, while my dear husband was here on his own, questioning his capacity to keep us safe…” She sighed again and continued. “I'm really a bad wife, huh?”

Daryl leaned into Y/N's touch, closing his eyes as she ran her hands through his hair. He sighed deeply, feeling a mix of emotions but still negating her words.

“Nah. Ya ain't a bad wife. Yar da best damn wife. Yar perfect.”

He said it softly as he tried to encourage her. His voice was filled with a hint of frustration afterwards. “Ah jus'... 'm scared I ain't gonna be a good pa. I ain't never had a good example to follow, y'know?”

Y/N knew what he was referring to. They didn't speak so often about their pasts (deciding to let them be and find a future together), but she remembered the little Daryl commented about his family life and his broken relationship with... the man that was his father.

“Whatever happened back then... doesn't determine who you are today. You chose to be different from him, to be more understanding, to wait more patiently, and to love more deeply,” she started.

“Jesus, you've been up and about everywhere looking for baby items just to be prepared when he or she comes around.”

Y/N chuckled, reflecting on all the tiny clothes, toys, and more that Daryl kept bringing back each time he went on a run since he learned Y/N was pregnant with their child. Seeing him come over to her in an excited, uncharacteristic way to show her his new finding was as amusing as endearing.

“You're nothing like him. You're you, and you're better. And I know it scares you. Damn, it scares me too.” She insisted (unnoticedly mild-cursing), knowing well who the man she fell in love with was and how much he matured and developed just by being with you and the others.

Her sudden, brittle voice indicated she was about to cry. She felt the hormones hitting her, making her feel sadder and more vulnerable than she had seconds ago. “But… sniff But I know we will be alright because... sniff because we have you, we have each other, and... sniff and that's all that matters to me, so... we will get to learn how to raise our child together. We w-will set the good example ourselves, o-okay?”

Her voice trembled at the last sentence as she grabbed a hold of his face, pressing his cheeks together to make him look over at her. Finally, she had let go of her emotions and became a teary mess, non-stop sniffing before him.

Almost used to her mood swings already, Daryl couldn't help but chuckle softly despite the seriousness of the situation, amused by the little it took to make her cry now, even if she was already quite emotional beforehand.

“Baby, yar crying... again. I swear yer hormones have been all over the place,” he stated in a playful manner, gently wiping away her tears with his thumb. He then took her hands into his own, holding them gently. The difference in size and texture was kinda silly.

“Still… Yar dang right 'bout us, we're gonna stick together. I ain't never been good at all this family business, but I'll do whatev'r it takes for ya and our young'un.” Daryl promised to her lover, feeling more accepting of his new role.

“I-I can't help it... sniff the pregnancy... sniff I swear I've never been so emotional about everything before... sniff I hate it... And you know I hate swearing too…” She complained, her voice increasing in intensity as she recalled her distaste for swearing and swearing words.

“It just… It hurts me so much when sniff I see you like this... Like you'll get tired of me or sick of us, and—”

Y/N stopped herself, incapable of completing what came to mind as more tears fell. The unlooked-for thought brought a new fear to her mind: a possible future without Daryl, having to tend and care for the baby alone.

It terrified her.

Daryl's expression softened even more as he saw her tear up. Damn hormones got her all upset, and all he wanted to do was take it all away. His chest twisted in pain when she mentioned he could get tired of her, so he gently pulled her closer to him with a firm grip.

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me,” he said, guiding her gaze to his by holding her chin. “Sunray, ya got nothin' to worry about, y'hear me? I ain't goin' nowhere... 'M plum crazy 'bout ya, and I ain't never leaving ya or our young'un, I promise. I ain't getting tired of you, sweetheart; yar everythin' to me.”

He confessed sweet things to her, wanting Y/N to feel the depth of his love for her.

“B-but… sniff the way you sniff yelled before…” She argued between sniffs and hiccups, being so focused on her mood that she kept forgetting to breathe properly.

“I thought I… I did something to sniff get you upset with me again, like... sniff like when sniff I misplaced your crossbow last week and you sniff wouldn't talk to me until I found it…”

She couldn't help but sob at the remembrance, making Daryl feel a pang of guilt when she mentioned his reaction earlier and last week. He had made her so hurt for not talking to her that it still poked at her. And damn, she was crying even more now. He hated seeing her like this. His little sunray was all cloudy because of him.

“Hey, come on now, sweetcheeks... I'm sorry for hollerin' at ya, ait? I was a bit... on edge, but it had nothin' to do with ya, ait? S'not nothin' to worry about.” He spoke softly as he pulled her even closer, his hand gently rubbing her back in soothing circles, just like she did to him minutes ago.

“And 'bout that crossbow, that was nothin'.”

“But... sniff you got so angry... hiccup I thought you'd hate me forever if I couldn't find it… hiccup and the thing is, you always placed it anywhere! hiccup”

Y/N protested, claiming Daryl was the one constantly dropping his weapon all over the house, but the truth was, she was actually the one changing its location.

The pregnancy sure had its shortcomings, but one of them that mostly affected Y/N was easily misplacing things because she became a lot more forgetful (possibly because of the amount of blood, nutrients, and oxygen she was losing each day to provide to her baby and help him/her keep growing healthily). So, each time she'd see the crossbow somewhere she previously placed it while doing house chores, she'd think it was Daryl who placed it there, and she'd put it somewhere else, and then she'd come across it again and place it somewhere else, over and over again.

It happened multiple times before with less meaningful things, but this was Daryl's crossbow we were talking about. When he would come back home looking for his main weapon, Daryl would find it missing, and when he would ask Y/N, she wouldn't remember where she last saw it.

After hours of scattering the whole house, she felt so silly when they finally found the crossbow inside their wardrobe. She couldn't even remember keeping it there, but... all pointed out that the pregnancy was just taking the best of her, and Daryl's stress wasn't really helping much.

Despite Daryl understanding the situation was a consequence of the pregnancy later on and trying as best as he could to make her feel better, inside her mind, she couldn't help but continue blaming herself for making him angry that day.

The silent treatment he gave her seemed to have broken her heart into two.

Daryl listened to her words, realising the severity of the case and feeling more stupid for not fully catching how much that incident had affected Y/N. Seeing her tears made his heart ache even more.

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, feeling guilty for causing her so much worry, knowing she had too much on her plate already.

“Hear me out now. I ain't never gonna hate ya, y'hear? It was ma fault for bein' dang careless with where I left ma stuff. I shouldan't given ya the silent treatment; I was jus... frustrated,” he let on, taking the blame to make her feel less remorseful.

“I'm sorry... hiccup I just don't want to make you angry again…” She hiccuped once more, feeling her eyes water up for the nth time.

Daryl gently cupped her face, his calloused thumbs wiping away the tears. “Ya ain't got nothin' to apologise for, sweetheart. Believe me, I'm the one who should be apologisin' to ya.”

Daryl sighed.

“ 'm sorry for giving' ya the silent treatment. I was bein' a damn fool. Ya didn't do nothin' wrong, ait? I'll never be angry with ya for real. I swear,” he admitted.

“Really?…” she asked with a trembling voice and big puppy eyes. He looked into her hazel eyes, his gaze loving.

“Really. I promise.”

He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face; his touch was tender.

“Yar carryin' our baby, remember? Tha's the most important thang rite now. Ain't nothin' else matters more than ya and our young'un. I ain't gonna waste time bein' mad over stupid shit like lost crossbows when I gotta take care of ya,” he professed, making a second vow to himself to keep you and his future child safe.

Y/N sniffed her feelings for the last time and tried to collect herself.

“Alright…”

She placed her chin over his head and hugged his neck softly, allowing him to place his head over the beginning of her belly, giving him access to listen to the baby's little movements and her heartbeats.

“I love you, Daryl... I love you so much, I don't know what I would do without you.” She still felt somewhat emotional as she said this, but she gave it her all to avoid crying again.

Daryl wrapped his arms around Y/N while placing his head gently over her belly. He listens intently to her heartbeats, the sound of them comforting him. He momentarily turned his head to place a gentle kiss on her belly, his lips lingering for a moment as he treasured this moment.

“I love ya too, baby. Y'all and this little 'un got me wrapped around yer dang fingers. Don't know what I'd do without y'all...” He hugged her tightly, not wanting to let her go.

He caressed her cheek with his hand, his fingers lightly tracing the contour of her jawline.

He then gently rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling as they shared this intimate moment as they looked forward to whatever the future had in store for them because, if anything was sure, it was that they would do anything to stay together in love.

EXTRA:

They stayed on the pond for a while longer until Y/N said:

“I wanna have strawberries and cheese,” and Daryl looked at her like she had gone crazy.

“Berries 'n cheese? You serious?” he questioned. “It tastes good…” she whispered, defending herself.

Daryl shook his head, still not finding sense in those strange pregnancy food cravings, but he still wouldn't deny any of her cravings. If his queen wanted to eat strawberries and cheese, the man would get them for her.

“If tha' what ya want,” he answered, shrugging, making Y/N hug him, glad that he agreed on getting the'snack’ for her.

“I love you, Daryl.” “Love ya too, sweetcheeks.”

A/N: OH MY GOOD GOD, FINALLY. THIS WAS THE LONGEST I'VE EVER WRITTEN. Editing this was such a pain... But was worth it! Also, I may be planning a few more stuff for this cottagecore reader... as well as other projects of course. I think I'm gonna be super occupied now because I've got work, but I'm also planning a travel (and I wanna participate in two Daryl-related writing challenges...).

May God help me because I don't think I can help myself on this 😭 but anws, this was super endearing to write. It went through very little changes since the draft, compared to other stuff I wrote, and I did a collage image banner for it, inspired by @dixons-sunshine whenever she works on her stuff. Yeah, as you can see, all this post is focused on you hahaha, hope you had the greatest day today and I love ya lots. May God keep you for even longer and give you many more reasons to rejoice, celebrate and thank Him IJN 🥰

Now, imma retire now bc I stayed up almost all night trying to edit this... and I got work early in the morning... (seriously, this was like 12 pages on Word... 💀) See ya all around!

Thanks and God bless!~

𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

support divider from @cafekitsune, on this post

[planchettewrites]

Until the Twelfth of Never

SSA Aaron Hotchner (Criminal Minds)/AFAB!Reader

DESCRIPTION: A lonely evening without your husband causes some positive reflection, that is until he comes home again.

CONTENT: Pure fluff, brief and minor allusions to sex, mentions of Haley Hotchner's death, mentions of loneliness.

A/N: Aaron Hotchner, my beloved! Initially, this fic centered around another song, but then I reworked it to a song that fit much better. I apologize for not posting, I've been working on other fics and preparing for my new job. I wanted to make this fic realistic to what it would be like to be married to Hotch, so prepare for some angst. All that said, I hope you enjoy it!

1.9k words | Safe!

Evenings with your husband were usually tranquil. Evenings without your husband were far more tranquil, at least for the most part. As you cared for your stepson, who you loved with all your heart, he kept the house lively. He came into your room and showed you his drawings, or you helped him with his homework, eventually tucking him into bed at night. It was those moments you cherished with Jack. The moments where you could read a story to him about faraway lands and slain dragons or the defeat of monsters or hear him talk about his day at school. However, no matter how much you loved that little boy, there was always a space in your heart missing from your husband’s absence.

You worked during the day, picked Jack up from school, and then returned home to a relatively clean house. Then you cooked dinner, ensured Jack got cleaned up for the evening, tucked him into bed, and watched television until it was time for you to sleep. That was consistently the hardest part of the day, where you fell asleep next to an empty side of the bed. Almost every night and every day, like clockwork, before you sleep and before you wake, you reach out and put your hand on Aaron’s pillow, feeling the soft material under your hands. Some days, you spray his cologne on his pillow to trick your brain into thinking he’s there. 

You learned rather quickly that it’s very hard to be a wife to a husband who rarely comes home. 

In some ways, you don’t feel like you have ever a right to complain. His not being home was the same thing that brought the demise of his marriage to his late ex-wife. The solitude and the silence can be pleasant, but your husband is your other half. You miss him like any wife would. However, when he was home, it was like he never left. He was still the kind, silly, dedicated, and wonderful father and husband he was before he left. When he was home, he always made time for you and his son. He’d take you three out to dinner or the movies and spend plenty of time with each of you in ways where it matters. He’d take his son to school and back, take him to baseball games, and watch Jack’s favorite shows with him. He’d spend time with you in the mornings and at night, ensuring you were happy and all your needs were fulfilled. He’d cook dinner for his family and spend every waking moment with the both of you. 

This week was another week Aaron was gone. He was supposed to return by the weekend, and then he’d return to your arms again. Until then, it was you and Jack. Except for the rest of the week, based on his wishes, he was with his Aunt Jessica. He wanted to see his cousins on the Brooks side of the family. You and the Brooks family got along fine, which is very fortunate for you. You had no ill will towards Haley (nor the rest of the Brooks family, for that matter); in fact, often, as a family, you would visit her grave. 

Needless to say, the Hotchner household was very quiet with your husband or your stepson. As you made dinner, funny enough, one of Jack’s favorites, fettuccine alfredo with broccoli and chicken, you turned on one of your CDs, an assorted mix from songs of the 1950s. Aaron got one of his coworkers, Penelope Garcia, to burn the CD for you. It was a mix of songs that both you and Aaron enjoyed and ones that made Aaron think of you. Songs like “Everybody Loves a Lover” by Doris Day, “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, “Please Mr. Sun” by Tommy Edwards, “Fortune Teller” by Bobby Curtola, and so on and so forth. 

One of Aaron’s favorite tracks on the mix was “The Twelfth of Never” by Johnny Mathis. Aaron said it was one of his favorite love songs from that era; the slow melody and beautiful lyrics really spoke to him. In fact, he loved the song so much and associated it with your relationship and marriage entirely that it was your first dance song at your wedding. It was one of the first tracks on the CD since Aaron found the song so representative of your love. 

The music from your CD player blasted throughout the house, with no worry of waking any sleeping children or husbands. Currently, the second track of the mix was playing, “(I Got Spurs) Jingle Jangle Jingle.” Although the lyrics no longer applied to you, you had told Aaron it was one of your favorite songs in college. 

“'Cause I got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle (Jingle, jangle)

As I go ridin' merrily along (Jingle, jangle)

And they sing, "Oh, ain't you glad you're single" (Jingle, jangle)

And that song ain't so very far from wrong (Jingle, jangle).”

You sang along with the track from nearly the top of your lungs. You danced around your chicken as the pasta was cooking towards al dente. Your broccoli was also being steamed, and the chicken pieces were already cooked. Your hips swayed to the rhythm of the song, the funky orchestra carrying the tune of the music while Kay Kyser sang the lyrics. 

You always preferred to cook with music on. There was nothing like a dull life, you thought. You needed music to carry you through the good times and the bad, the lonely moments or the otherwise not. You twirled by the counters, imagining that your sleep shorts gave you the same twirl as a skirt from the early 1950s. 

“…Oh, Lillie Belle (Lillie Belle)

Oh, Lillie Belle (Lillie Belle)

Though I may have done some foolin'

This is why I never fell.”

You laughed a little to yourself as you sang along to that last lyric. You remember that promise you made in college: never fall for a man who stole your heart. Of course, that all changed when you met Aaron. Upon meeting, the attraction was instant. You met through a mutual friend of your father’s, and even though he was noticeably older than you, that didn’t seem to matter too much. You were a grown woman; you could make your own decisions. You didn’t expect that decision to be falling in love with and eventually marrying Aaron Hotchner, becoming a mother figure to a beautiful boy in the process. Still, you wouldn’t ever regret your heart’s desire. 

“… Oh, I got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle (I got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle)

As I go ridin' merrily along (I go ridin' merrily along)

And they sing, "Oh, ain't you glad you're single" (And they sing, "Oh, ain't you glad you're single")

And that song ain't so very far from wrong (And that song ain't so very far from wrong).”

As the third chorus came in with a woman’s voice, you found yourself totally entranced in the music. You did the twist as you stirred your pasta, singing your heart out. Some of you wished that Jack or Aaron were here to enjoy this moment with you, but concurrently, you were having a great time with yourself. The music kept you company, and the gentle hum of the stove fan kept you grounded in reality. 

“… Oh, Lillie Belle

Oh, Lillie Belle

Though I may have done some foolin'

This is why I never fell

'Cause I got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle (I got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle).”

You kicked up your feet and continued to sway around the kitchen. While you were by no means a professional dancer, you knew how to dance well enough that you could carry your body to the melody. As the last chorus kicked in, you huffed out a sigh with a smile. All that dancing knocked the wind out of you. You went back to stirring the pasta, finally tasting it to see if your pasta was fully cooked. It was. After draining your pasta, you put it back in the pan to add the sauce as the next song begins. 

Part of you stopped to smile when you heard the opening notes of the next song on the tracklist: “The Twelfth of Never” by Johnny Mathis. Part of you wanted to skip to the next track, avoid the slight twinge in your heart when you heard the song and thought of your physically absent husband, but that’s not what Aaron would want. If Aaron were here, he’d grab you to slow dance, singing along to Johnny’s baritenor with his low baritone. 

“You ask how much I need you; must I explain?

I need you, oh, my darling, like roses need rain

You ask how long I'll love you, I'll tell you true

Until the twelfth of never, I'll still be loving you.”

You sang along under your breath, your eyes closed as you stirred. You sang along to the following verses, swaying gently from side to side, imagining Aaron’s big arms wrapped around you. You wished you could feel his arms wrapped tight around your waist, kissing your neck as you cooked. One of his favorite things to do when he was home was cook together. You kept singing until you felt a presence and heard a familiar voice sing along to the song. 

“Hold me close,

Never let me go,

Hold me close,

Melt my heart like it will snow.”

Your eyes shot open as you turned to the sound of the voice, and there stood your husband in the flesh, leaning against the doorway, looking at you like you were a fresh drink of water in the scoring heat. Such love was apparent in his eyes; it almost made your eyes tear up. You nearly dropped the spoon, placing it quickly on the counter and almost sprinting into your husband’s arms. 

Opening his arms for you, Aaron immediately pulled you into a tight hug, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “I’ve missed you, my angel.” he pressed another kiss to your forehead. “I’ve missed you so, so much.”

Tears were beginning to brim in your eyes as you looked up at Aaron, a smile growing on your face. “I didn’t even hear you come in! When did you get home?”

“A few minutes ago. I heard our mix playing, and I had to come to see what you were up to.” his arms grew tighter around you, one of his hands slithering up your back to cradle your head. “I see that you’re cooking.”

“I’m sorry; if I knew you were coming home, I would’ve made some for you too.”

He smiled. “Not to worry, sweetheart, I ate on the plane ride back.”

Effectively abandoning your dinner, you let yourself melt into your husband’s touch as the last verse of the song began to play, the two of you singing along and swaying to the rhythm. 

“I'll love you 'til the bluebells forget to bloom

I'll love you 'til the clover has lost its perfume

I'll love you 'til the poets run out of rhyme

Until the twelfth of never, and that's a long, long time

Until the twelfth of never, and that's a long, long time.”

At your wedding, you promised to love each other for the rest of your lives, come what may. The song currently ending perfectly encapsulated your relationship with your husband; you two swore to love each other through the hard times and the good, regardless of what life threw your way. You and Aaron would always have each other’s backs, and that is what this song meant to you: that you would love each other until the twelfth of never—which, indeed, was a long, long time. 

[television-overload]

fate is the handspike

(an X-Files ficlet)

[Read on AO3]

Summary:

Starting on February 23, 1964, Teena Mulder begins to worry about her young son. At first, she thinks maybe he's wishing for a little sister, a wish that will be granted very soon. But he insists the little girl he talks to is called Dana, and she's too little to play, but she likes when he reads his books to her.

(fic below the cut)

i.

At first, Teena thinks it's cute.

"She's just a baby, mommy, she can't play yet," he'd say.

"Oh, is that right?" she'd reply, indulging him in his childish fantasies. Perhaps this was his way of asking for a sister. The other moms in the neighborhood often urged her to give Fox a sibling, citing a child's need for company and social engagement, but Fox had always seemed so happy to play alone. She's not on the best of terms with her husband at the moment, either, which complicates things.

But then there's times when she sees Fox on the floor, legs splayed out before him as he recites his favorite picture books to his imaginary friend, and she wonders if she ought to be worried. Just a little.

Dr. Seuss, Curious George, Clifford the Big Red Dog... The boy has a photographic memory. Though he's too young to properly read, he has a grasp on the basic plots and recounts them in great detail, turning the pages as he goes.

"This one is called 'Where the Wild Things Are,' Dana," he says, because his friend's name—he insists—is Dana. He turns the book in his hand and shows the colorful illustration on the cover to a patch of carpet on the living room floor. "Don't worry, it's not scary," he assures her. Her. It. Whatever it is he's spent his days talking to since late February.

When he tells the story, he uses his own name, instead of 'Max.' That's how she'd always read it to him, and that's the only way he knows.

"And Fox told the monsters to be still!" he narrates with enthusiasm. "He used a magic trick and looked right in their BIG yellow eyes, and they were all scared. They said Fox is the most wild thing of all, and they made him king!"

ii.

There was one night when she'd woken to find Fox standing in the corner of his room, speaking softly to the wall.

"Shh, it's okay, Dana," he soothed in his little voice. "Here, I'll sing you a song. Twinkle twinkle little star...."

She never tells Bill what she's seen. He's always too busy to notice himself. But others know.

"He's quite an imaginative young fellow," Spender notes, taking a draw from his cigarette as Fox rolls around in the grass outside the house in Quonochontaug. Since "Dana" learned to crawl, he's been even more preoccupied than usual. He shows her all his toys, tells her the names of all his action figures. He announces to his mother one day that he's going to teach Dana how to walk. That she can only stand on her own for a little bit right now, but she doesn't cry anymore when she falls down.

Bill, if he ever catches wind of this, must think he's talking about one of the other kids from Teena's ladies' group. But there's no "Dana" in this neighborhood. Not on the Vineyard, either. She's checked.

iii.

The day she finds out she's pregnant, a part of her wonders. Though her knowledge of her husband's work is small, she knows enough to gather that things she might have thought impossible, could in fact be possible. Perhaps her son had been having visions of his baby sister, long before she was even conceived. Maybe it had simply been a sign that he would one day be a big brother. Soon.

She'd long since dispelled thoughts of ghosts and hauntings and exorcisms.

He tells Dana all about the baby in mommy's tummy. He giggles and makes silly faces, pausing in between sentences, which she gathers must mean his friend has developed the ability to speak.

"Mommy, she said my name! That's right! Fox! Fox!"

iv.

When Samantha is born, "Dana" seems to disappear overnight. This, at least, supports her theory that he had simply been preparing himself for a new sibling, and after a few years, she's completely dismissed the issue. Fox shows no other signs of strange or unusual behavior. He is nothing but a doting big brother, who occasionally gets annoyed by his freckle-faced kid sister, as any brother is wont to do. He reads to her, plays games with her, watches the television with her. They're two peas in a pod, and not once does the name "Dana" escape his lips. She is all but forgotten.

Until he's twelve years old. Samantha is gone, and Teena lacks the patience to deal with his questioning.

"Mom? Does the name 'Dana' mean anything to you?" he asks.

"What? Of course not, Fox, why would you ask such a thing?"

He looks down at his feet, shoulders slumping. "No reason. Forget I asked."

v.

When Fox lays awake at night, the bedroom next to his now dull and empty, he thinks he can hear a voice. It isn't Samantha's—though he'd thought so at first.

"By heaven, man," she reads, "we are turned round and round in this world, like yonder windlass, and Fate is the handspike. And all the time, lo! that smiling sky, and this unsounded sea!"

What does this girl know about fate? What does she know of this upside-down world?

"Read the next chapter, Dana!" he hears another girl's voice speak. The words are faint—muffled—like he's underwater. But her voice is clear.

He falls asleep, like most nights, listening to the tales of Ahab and Starbuck, and a great white whale.

-.-.-

Tag List ♡: @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @numinousmysteries @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @teenie-xf @thursdayinspace

[kaihuntrr]

The Sea Prince; Betas and Sketches!

Hello! been a bit since ive done a sketch dump, but it isnt just a sketch dump, it's an announcement!

As @mewhoismyself and I work on the fic, we need an active set of beta readers! The two we have our wonderful, but to keep with the schedule, we need some extra hands and fresh eyes!

Hence, beta readers are once again open!

I am looking for two betas who are experienced in writing, and who are active to give their insights and feedback! currently, i am writing chapter 17, but while i do that, i'd need the feedback as soon as i can get it so i can prepare it for the chapter release dates. shoot a comment down below so i can check your account!

anyway, here's some doodles <3

ONE OF THESE IMAGES BELOW HAVE BLOOD. I AM WARNING YOU NOW.

first off, here's a joke made by a friend :> martyn is scott's babygirl, boom, its canon-

starting off, here's some silhouettes for the other princes ;D I can't reveal them, otherwise the surprise would be ruined! they're all based on different sea creatures, but they are just as scary as Prince Pearl and Prince Chromia. theres other designs i have to get to, but this is a sneak peak of the other terrors lurking in the dark.

speaking of, I got a fun doodle of em <3 the good thing about eating underwater is that they won't get all messy, but there are those times where an audience might watch them eat, they're messy eaters!

these two are pretty, but i really wanted to push their freakier, scarier sea prince sides! more slight changes, but they're both quite fun to draw! their contrasting designs are so much fun to draw together, i love these sillies! oh- and here's a bloodless version!

i absolutely LOVE my sea prince designs, scott and pearl just itch me the right way.

and before i pop off, here's some concept designs for joey and sausage, along with fwhip and gem! since gem is officially a lifer, i think her role in the story might be a bit more focused on, who knows!

wanted to make sure sausage didn't look like his pirates look :0c this au was originally before pirates smp, so i wanted to differentiate them somehow, so i pulled a lot from their empires' attire and see what works! what do you think?

finally, we have the cover art board! im planning to put this all in my pinned post the moment all the covers drop, but goodness, those eyes sure are pretty!

what do you think of the au so far? enjoying it? i hope you are! this au is such a blast <3

[1tsstargaze59]

❗️ANXIFEAR MINI FIC FROM MY NEW COLLEGE AU ❗️

So I got 6 hours of sleep last night because of this idea so APPRECIATE WHAT YA GETTING XD /j

This AU is still in the works, but all the info in this post is set information, send me your ideas in the comments or in asks, I'd be more then happy to hear them! ^^

I didn't get to draw anything for this sadly, but I picture them looking like @eechytooru 's humanizations of the two,

Now, narration mode on-

Warning for one f bomb I guess xD

It's the beginning of a new semester, Fear's a young college teacher in the mathematics faculty. He's been working there for about 3 years. Anxiety is a new teacher and this is her first semester teaching, she's a history teacher in the human science department.

Fear is just finishing up a lecture, when Anxiety barges in holding her material, her coffee and her notes. Her glasses are tilted and her hair's clipped up in it's usual messy style. When she looks up, she sees a full classroom of adults and a startled Fred looking straight at her.

Oh my bad, forgot to mention their human names hehe. Fear is Frederick Fitzgerald, because it's silly but trying to be serious, like him, and Anxiety is Anna-lee Tyson, just cuz I like how that sounds lol. Back to my narration,

She scrambles with her things and apologizes profusely to Mr. Fitzgerald. He urges her not to worry as he was just giving his ending speech and he dismisses the class. Anna awkwardly says goodbye to the students as they are leaving, while Fred starts packing his things. She approaches the front desk and sets her things down. They start up some small talk.

At this point, Fred has seen Anna around campus. He's found her little quirks fascinating; how she always carries too much in her arms, how she presses too hard on her PC's keys, how she supplements her coffee with energy drinks. It makes his stomach twist in a way that's farmiliar to him, but he denies putting any feelings forward to keep things professional. Anna rarely pays attention to her surroundings, she stays in her head much of the time, so this is her first time meeting him.

"I'm sorry again for the interruption," she repeats herself.

"Oh there's no need to apologize, Miss?"

"Tyson, Anna-Lee Tyson," she started to organize her supplies.

"Charmed, Frederick Fitzgerald. I've been interrupted by far worse. Students, other staff, KIDS EVEN!" He continued putting away his personal items.

"Kids?!"

"Yes, sadly, some single parents have to bring their children to class from lack of available childcare."

"Ugh, childcare should be more accessible to single parent students," she protested.

Fred shock his head in agreement.

"... Do you have any children M. Fitzgerald?"

He was taken aback by this question. Fred is a little ashamed he doesn't have kids at his age. He thinks if he had a partner by now, he probably would have-

Seeing his awkward reaction, she takes back the question:

"I'm sorry, you don't have to answer if you don't feel comfortable, I-"

Fred laughs it off, "No no, it's OK but... do I look that old to you?"

"No! I mean- of course not!" She assured him, although it seemed more as if she was reassuring herself.

And he laughs some more, "You would probably guess correctly to be frank."

"... Are you daring me to guess your age?"

"Yes, go on," he smiled, amused, and leaned on the desk.

So she tries to guess: "... 40?"

Fred jerked back and put his hand to his chest dramatically.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She apologized once more, shaking her hands nervously.

He chuckles, "No, you weren't too far off! I'm 37."

"Oh! OK, I got close!"

"Ya! May I try guessing your age?"

"Sure, go ahead," she smiled.

To this, he leans back on the desk and strikes a thinking pose dramatically, guessing 25 in a flirtatious manner.

She giggles, "You're kind M. Fitzgerald, but seriously though."

"Ok ok... 32?"

"Oh, so close, I'm 34!"

"Darn!" He says and they both laugh.

He looks at her laugh, it almost turns into a squeak. Something about her makes him feel like he could talk to her for hours and she'd listen. Her nose scrunches and it makes her round glasses tilt upwards; he pushes his own glasses up.

"And I love your smile..." he whispered under his breath mindlessly.

"Hm?"

"Oh hm, it was very nice meeting you Ms. Tyson!" He held out his hand to her, quickly responding to avoid suspicion.

"It was!" She agreed, shaking his hand firmly.

After an awkwardly long handshake, which she didn't register as such, he finished packing his things and headed out, wishing her a great start of the semester. She returned the gratitude. Leaving the lecture hall, he held his hand up to his face to hide the glow he felt on his cheeks.

Fuuuuuuck- he doesn't swear much, but this time called for it; she had a strong affect on him and he was going to have a difficult time trying to hide it for the rest of the semester-

-------

And ya that's it! Had to get this scene out of my mind and into the world or it would have consumed me a swear XD

[sibillascribbles08]

Man I've written 29 fics for rise, that's insane, anyway here's a master post, sort of? I realized some people either A) may not know how many different fics I've written or B) not realized "oh he wrote that" sooo

One Shots

Don't You Care? – Donnie and Leo centric, post-movie. Donnie isn't always great with feelings, and when he fails to understand Leo's, he tries to find a way to fix it. Doing so forces him to unpack some of his own thoughts on their victory over the kraang as well.

To Bridge a Canyon of your Own Design – Splinter centric, post-movie, a bit of a retrospective on his relationship with his sons, his depression, and him trying to move away from his unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I Didn't Vote for You – Leo's the leader now, and Donnie always finds ways to argue with him about it. Leo wants to find out why Donnie has such a problem with how he's trying to lead the team, but it turns out that isn't the problem. It's simply the fact that Leo's the leader at all.

I'd Give Anything – Donnie-centric. A slightly alternate take on the movie's ending where instead of just firing a drill into the portal, Donnie jumped in, and ends up losing an arm in the process. But he has to kind of piece all of that together as he recovers in the med bay, talking to each of his family members.

Grappling With Things Beyond Your Control – Gift fic for my friend Bat! Donnie-centric, post season 2. Suddenly getting ninpo with no prior training causes Donnie's powers to start to run amok, and on top of that he has to help his family not only find a new home but move into one. It's a lot to balance, maybe too much to balance.

Four Turtles in your Corner (Store) – A silly fic about April being out of supplies for her period, and in desperation sends the boys to go get her some. I'm sure four reptilian mutants have competent knowledge on what humans need for things like this.

Now Lie In It – Big Bang fic! Takes place during season 2. Leo won't sleep, and ends up getting on Donnie's nerves. The softshell's solution to the problem is a simple sleep potion, but when he pours too much into Leo's tea his brother won't wake up. Time to force April and Draxum to go find an antidote while he hides his mistake from the rest of his family. (it sounds angsty but it's comedic, actually)

What Will You Leave Behind – Big Bang fic! Doomed timeline, Raph centric. Raph is the first of his siblings to die during the war. And while he does everything he can to be their ever present pillar as they eventually follow after, he can't help but loathe the fact that the ones still down there are suffering and he can't do anything to help.

My Words Died With You – Gift fic for Bat! Doomed timeline, Donnie centric. Donnie quit speaking when Raphael died, months later he still isn't. His family tries to help him cope with this, even Raphael does from the afterlife, but it may not be enough.

VHHB series

(These are all post-movie)

My Roommate the Troubled Time Traveler (One Shot) – Casey and Draxum centric. Casey Jones Jr. isn't coping too great with being in the present, and trying to live in the lair isn't helping. So Mikey has the GREAT idea to convince Draxum to let Casey be his roommate. The alchemist thinks this is a terrible idea, but he might be able to help the kid far more than he realizes.

Violet Hues and Holly Blue (Completed) – Donnie centric. 8 months after the kraang invasion and Donnie's been the reigning champ in the Battle Nexus for a while, in his attempts to improve his mystic abilities. But this draws the attention of a business focused wasp named Holly Blue who offers to help sell his tech designs in the Hidden City. Donnie ends up agreeing, having to keep that secret from his family too, but eventually they're going to find out. (This is only a partial summary haha sorry, fic is heckin long)

Missing Pages – Just some VHHB extras, but hey it features Big Mama being herself, Lou Jitsu maiming some people, Donnie dealing with past blood on his hands and uuuuh Leo and Holly becoming friends (what a mood whiplash)

You Are Loved (Completed)– Two-shot fic about the Caseys (of the Senior and Junior variety). Casey Jr. wants to know why his ninpo sprung up so suddenly, and in his search to find out discovers his family is much closer than he realizes. Meanwhile Cassandra is struggling with her place among the Hamatos, it doesn't help when she finds out they're keeping a pretty big secret from her. Hopefully they can make it up to her.

The Sun and Icarus (Completed) – Mikey-centric. He's been doing pretty good at developing his mystic abilities lately, but now they're starting to explode, pretty violently. And it turns out if this keeps up the whole ordeal could just kill him. Better find a way to put a cap on it, or something to that effect. (Wow more power overloading fics from ME)

Girls' Night (One Shot) – April centric one shot, also April/Sunita. She's just trying to have a fun night out with the girls, inviting Holly Blue along for the ride, but maybe that was a mistake because in her attempts to playfully tease the wasp, she's suddenly forced to confront her own crush.

And For my Next Trick (One Shot) – Leo-centric one shot. Leo's getting frustrated with his lack of progress on his mystic powers, and with Hueso's advice decides to shift his focus to a different kind of magic, stage magic. With Hueso Jr.'s help, he plans to put on an entire show, which should be fine if some other magician doesn't show up to steal the show.

Look Up Hero in the Dictionary (Completed) – Raph centric. Raph's feeling a bit too idle in the city lately, with only minor crimes going on, but in his wish for something exciting a strange explosion happens at an apartment building. He attempts to help everyone escape, but a yokai holding the building together stays behind, and on top of that charges Raph with the task to take care of her child. Have fun taking care of a powerful psychic seven-year old, Raph.

What You're Made Of (One Shot) - Casey Jr. centric. Casey is getting frustrated with discovering weird things about his body like skin problems and peanut allergies. Draxum suggests he find out who his other parent is to get an idea of his genetic history, but when he finds out who it is, he's kind of ticked off that his family never told him. (this is a bio dad Raph fic for the record).

The Knight and the Dragon (Completed) - Jasonnie centric. Episodic chapters about Donnie and Jason learning to be friends and then becoming more than friends. Very sappy, a bit of angst, a lot of me making up lore about Jason.

Here's To You Holly Blue (Completed) - Grief fic, OC, Donnie and Leo focused. Takes place roughly 17 years later when Holly Blue's health takes a drastic drop and she won't be coming out of it.

Off Colors AU (Separated AU)

Off Colors: Contrasts (Completed) - Covers season 1. Leonardo's spent most of his life believing he's an only child because his little brother was kidnapped when they were only toddlers. But a rescue mission to the Hidden City with his best friend April results in him finding out he actually has three siblings. And in the span of a couple of weeks he finds out all of them are alive and, unfortunately, working for bad guys. He's going to try everything he can to stop them and convince them to come home, but it may be a fools errand.

Off Colors: Analogous (in progress) - Covers season 2. Leonardo now has his siblings living in his home, but it's more of a nightmare than a dream come true since he only gets along with one of them. Still, maybe with time they can all start working things out, and the sooner the better since there's still a threat on the horizon.

Other Chaptered Fics

An Alien Invasion Happened but That's Not Really What This is About (Completed) - Long ass title. Jason-centric. Hi I wrote a novella sized fic about what happens to this kid during and after the events of the movie. Watch him attempt badly to cope with trauma while also fixing his relationship with his very queer dad who loves him a lot.

Artificial Phoenix (Completed) – Lou Jitsu died in the arena but then Big Mama said no no no! So Draxum brings him back to life while mutating four turtles so Lou Jitsu said NO NO NO! And he took them and ran. Alternate take on the events of the show, where Splinter is undead and unmutated, and unfortunately does not keep his soul in his body the entire time, leaving his sons grieving and desperate to get him back.

Jasonnie things

Not Part of the Plan (One Shot) – Donnie centric. Despite knowing time travel exists, Donnie is still surprised to find his future self in his lab. But his excitement at the possibilities is swiftly crushed as his future self has an easy time embarrassing him. He hopes he can at least gather some useful information in the process, but he slowly begins to wonder if he even wants answers to all these questions.

You Have to Let Him Go (One Shot) – Donnie centric also sad as hell. I literally just wanted to write about how Donnie's husband hecking dies. Read this if you want to be miserable. (or if you hate Jase I guess ??? alskdjf man got char grilled (I have to make jokes to keep myself from being upset shh))

I'll Put the Knife in Your Hand (Completed) – Well, now that Donnie heard about his possible future husband, he's determined to at least get to know the guy. Unfortunately his family is far more cautious about this than he seems to be. AKA Four times Donnie's family believes Jase is planning to stab him in the back, and the one time he actually does.

ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND (One Shot) - Donnie is messing around with his mind machine again, and in the process ends up erasing part of his memory. Specifically the memories about Jase, and Jase is barely handling this well. Good thing Donnie's brothers who totally and absolutely are on good terms with Jase are there to help. Maybe.

Dual Dragons (One Shot) - Collab fic with @there-wolf ! A fic in which our versions of Jason end up encountering each other and even switching universes temporarily, giving them a window into how their life could be different (for better or worse).

[tragedybunny]

Love Fool

༺Summary༻

Serafina is having trouble sleeping and Astarion does his best to help her relax.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings༻ Completely terrible nicknames for body parts, sexual innuendo

༺Word Count༻ 652

༺A/N༻ This is just a short, silly fic for the bg3aprilfoolishness challenge. Read on AO3

“Can’t sleep,” Serafina fussed, laying next to him, drawing a sigh from Gale. Screw Gale though, the love of his life was infinitely more important. 

“And what should we do about that, my love,” he purred. With Cazador out of the way, he felt free to do whatever was necessary. 

“Feed off me, it always makes sleepy,” she wheedled. 

He wasn’t sure that was a particularly good idea. Sera hadn’t been sleeping much, or eating much, as things were building to the final confrontation with the Netherbrain. But, if she said that’s what she wanted. “I’m yours to command, my sweet.” 

Pulling her close, he lapped his tongue over the healed bite marks in her neck, and dug his fangs in. She tasted divine, as always, and he felt a familiar stirring in his groin. Why was her blood an aphrodisiac? Gods knew he’d drained enough of their enemies without his cock getting hard. 

Beside him, Sera giggled and Gale audibly groaned. “I’m going to get some fresh air,” he muttered, stalking off with his pillow and blanket. 

“Oops,” she whispered. He pulled his fangs from her neck and licked it cleaned, 

“Perhaps if he found a bedmate of his own, maybe Halsin, since he seemed so desperately eager to have company.” 

“Stop,” she smacked his shoulder before giggling again. His hips had pressed into her thigh, and she could obviously feel what her blood was doing to him. “Did I get you all wound up?” She teased. “You make it too easy.” 

Sassy little thing, he moved his hands to pin her shoulders down. “And you aren’t as easy.”  He covered her lips with his, and felt her shiver. Good thing Gale was already gone. 

But when he pulled away, she was giggling again. “That’s what I need to sleep, a little bit of the love rod, quality time with my favorite meat.” She was laughing loud enough the rest of their companions were stirring. 

Maybe he had drank too much from her, but she seemed happy enough. He nipped her ear playfully, smiling himself. “I think you may finally be losing it, my dear Serafina.” She shook with repressed laughter, her arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close. If she was enjoying herself, he might as well play along. “Good, because I am in desperate need to be inside that tight little love box of yours.”

They were both cackling by this point, as Astarion shifted himself between her legs, thrusting his hardness against her. “I swear to Mother Gith…” Lae’zel threatened from across the room. 

Sera moaned and bit her lip, trying to keep from provoking the room any further. “Tell me more.”

He bent over and kissed a line from her throat to the swell of her breasts, trying not to smile. “Allow me to start by worshiping your most perfect milkers.” His lips continue their path. “And then I’d love nothing more than to fertilize your lady garden, to bake in your love oven.”

“Oh please, gift me with your man seed, fill me with your daddy sauce.”

Astarion lost it, he collapsed on his side next to her, both of them howling with laughter, all eroticism lost. “If the two of you do not stop it I will forcibly separate you!” Jahiera shouted to the agreement of everyone else. 

Sera covered her own mouth, eyes watery, before calming enough to speak. “I’m sorry, I ruined it.” 

Astarion looked at her, his beloved Serafina, his Sunlight, the most relaxed he’d seen her in days. “On the contrary, that was perfect. And we still could, if you want.” 

“Truthfully, I think I’d rather…” She cuddled up close to him, tucking her head under his chin. 

“I think you’ve got the right idea, my love.” He wrapped his arms around her. Within seconds, he felt her breath steady and her heart slow as she fell peacefully asleep. 

[burningcheese-merchant]

I have. A few things to say! First of all, thank you for writing for here (and there, but I do not have an AO3)! I’m very in much love with someone going crazy for another and *mwah* do you do it right and justice! That said, prioritize yourself! Drink water! Eat! Do not burn out, and do not feel pressured to do stuff! I hope that your spark burns for long after this fandom!

Thank you so, so much for your kind words! I know you sent multiple asks, so I'm going to try to respond to the first two in one post, if that's ok! (I'll answer the PitayaFire one separately)

Don't you know that the truest, most profound kind of love is born not beneath the soft, pale light of the full moon, not in the sound of a pair's steps as they dance the night away, not within the warmth and security of a tender embrace, but within the walls of the solitary confinement cell in the "dangerous and violent" housing section of a psych ward? LOL jk. It's really fun writing a lovesick/obsessed person for some reason. I don't have this dynamic for any of my other ships, this is the first time I've opted to explore a darker, more uncomfortable and unstable route/interpretation of a "relationship" and it's honestly been a blast lol. (I DO also ship mutual BurningCheese, but under specific conditions, AKA Burning Spice has a redemption arc and GC falls for him on her own. I just can't justify them being together if he's still evil. So long as he is, the love is one-sided)

I really am grateful for your compliments and encouragement. I've got a super big and important BurningCheese fic in the oven rn, but I do need to actually focus on real life for a bit, so it'll be some time. I'll be posting drabbles on here and a fic or two on AO3 where BS is NOT dangerously insane, just a regular asshole who's down bad lol

You can rest assured that my crazy diamond will continue shining on long after I get tired of these games about talking cookies. I always loved writing, it's my favorite hobby and it's my only way of expressing my creativity since I can't draw to save my life. I actually have a 100% original work I've been tinkering with for a loooong time, but I always wanted that story to be told in comic form, and to do that... I have to learn to draw lol. (And that's... a really big mountain to climb. I want to climb it more than anything, but I don't know if I can. Feels like I keep slipping and falling on my ass every time I try to take and retake the first step on the first rock, you know? Idk how anyone does it, honestly...) In any case, I'm truly grateful for you and everyone else who bothers to look at my work and actually thinks it's good for some reason

Did you see that gacha animation though 👀 The way BS is looking at her 👀 y'all can't tell me he ain't thirsty. Look at that twinkle in his eye. Look at that smile. He wants to tear up more than just those wings, I'm telling you 👀 Shadow Milk is a silly billy, he thinks puppet shows and gaslighting are how you flirt with people. Mystic Flour is probably just like "what. What is this. Who is this man. Why is he handsome. Why do I feel this way. Emotions are futile. Love is ephemeral. I will not stray from the path. I will trap him in my mind prison and torture him. That will fix it. He will surrender to apathy. He will return my soul jam. He will see how smart and correct I am. Cloud Haetae will sing my praises to him until he believes them. Yes. That is what will happen. Victory is mine. I am Very Normal about this." Burning Spice? Down horrendous. Down crazy. When GC is there, it's like no one else is in the room. Won't stop smiling. Only mentions the Soul Jam once, focuses on her specifically the whole rest of the time. First real thing he says to her is how much she impresses him. Throws a tantrum after their fight essentially because she didn't step on him hard enough. Down bad. Down bad. Down bad. Ain't no way he isn't. You can't change my mind

Sorry for rambling. TL;DR: Yo Socrates, it's a fucking cookie (also thank you for your support)

[dancingtotuyo]

“come here often?”

Javier Peña x female reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: fucking men in bathrooms of dirty bars isn’t your usual cup of tea, but sometimes you make exceptions.

Warnings/Tags: strangers, alcohol consumption, sex (p in v), unprotected sex (wrap it up), mirror sex, dirty bathroom, rough sex, mentions of bruising, hair pulling (reader has hair long enough to pull), degradation, 1 slap on the ass, Javi is a menace, Javi touches reader in flirtatious ways without consent, hints of exhibitionism, use of “good girl”, dirty talk, aftercare, soft! Javi at the end. Let me know if I missed anything.

Notes: I’m hardly the first to write Javier fucking you over the bathroom sink of a bar, and I hope I am not the last. If I had a list of all the wonderful fics I’ve read with this scenario, I would supply one, but alas, my capacity to keep track of fics does not exist (believe me, I’ve tried).

This little fic came from a silly little writing game I’ve been playing with some friends. Thanks @wannab-urs for giving me the spark of inspo that started this. I also took inspiration from @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and her fic, hand in unlovable hand, on this one! Shoutout @fhatbhabie for giving this baby a once over! @janaispunk for helping me sort out tags. @saradika for the dividers. And all my other amazing encouragers! You know who you are 🫶 ILYSM.

Words: 1171

You sit at the bar, swirling the whisky in front of you. You’re bored and in need of something to do on the hot summer night. Sweat collects in little beads across your skin, and you finish off the glass.

In the heat of the night, you don’t think you’d notice the presence of another behind you, but you do. It’s heavy and brooding. You feel it across your entire back as the person leans in beside you. His broad shoulders cover your frame.

“Ever heard of personal space?” You cock an eyebrow

He chuckles at you. A dark, thick mustache sits above his upper lip, highlighting his perfect teeth.

“A whiskey for me, and another for the lady,” he says to the bartender.

It is the least he could do.

He doesn’t move, keeping his eyes on you, letting his eyes roam across your body. He’s less than subtle about it. He catches a bead of sweat as it falls from your neck, tracking it down between your breasts, exposed in the sundress you wear. Finally, it slips out of his sight

He licks his lips, letting his forearm rest against the bar. “Come here often?”

You want to roll your eyes at the cliche words, but his lips are right at your ear, breath fanning over your bare skin. It sends a jolt straight to your core

You meet his gaze with stubbornness shining in your eyes. “No, I don’t tend to enjoy being eyed up by sleaze balls”

He chuckles deeply again, fingertips tracing your shoulder gently. “Good thing I’m here to keep them away.”

The bartender sets the drinks in front of you, giving you a look that asks if you want him to chase the man off. You shake your head. You can take care of him

“What are you? God’s gift to humanity?”

He smirks. “Some say that, yeah.”

You roll your eyes.

“C'mon, Hermosa. I think you’ll like it.” You brush him off, yet, he draws closer “I think you like sleaze balls like me making you feel good in seedy bars.”

“What makes you think you can make me feel good?”

“I like a good challenge” he winks

And god, if that doesn’t work. Your core clenches. Your stomach drops. You want to melt. Throwing down the whiskey, your eyes dart around until you find the sign for the bathroom. You don’t say a word. Adding a sway to your hips, you saunter off, heart pounding a million miles a minute.

You enter the bathroom. The door doesn’t even have a chance to close before his hands are on your hips. He kicks the door closed, making sure it’s locked. He pushes you forward, and your hands find purchase on the basin sink

The bathroom is small. It’s dingy and disgusting, but you don’t care.

“You are a filthy little thing, aren’t you?” he whispers in your ear, biting down on your earlobe

You let out a soft moan, tossing your head back. He cups your breast through the thin material of your sundress, and your nipples harden.

“Please” you stutter

“Please what, Darlin?”

“Fuck me” you moan.

He downright growls, shoving your hips into the sink. It hurts, but you can’t help but love it.

He flips your dress up to find your aching cunt dripping for him. “Just what I thought.” He clicks his tongue. “Such a good little slut. All this for me.” He runs his fingers through your dripping folds and then brings his finger to his nose smelling your juices before sucking his fingers clean. “Taste and smell so good for me, Hermosa.”

You whine.

“Just for me, right?” He says, running a hand over your ass, giving it a nice squeeze. You whine, core clenching around air.

You’re a pathetic, dripping mess

And you love it

His hand tangles in your hair, tugging you up roughly. “I said, just for me- right?” He smacks your ass and you moan.

“Yes, yes, just for you.”

“Good girl.” He lets go of your hair. You drop over the sink, panting heavily. You hear the buckle of his jeans.

Looking up just enough to see your reflection in the mirror, your hair is a mess. Mascara smudges under your eyes. Then, your eyes drift to him. His thick cock springs out of his jeans. The fucker isn’t wearing underwear, but you’re not complaining. It’s one less obstacle, and the sooner he’s in you, the better

He catches you eying him and smirks. “You like what you see, Hermosa?”

You nod, letting out a soft whimper

He smirks, hands moving back to your ass, squeezing and massaging it “You’re gonna take it so good for me.”

He lines himself up at your entrance. You only get a half second until he’s splitting you in two, forcing himself into you fully and completely. Your hips run into the sink again, the porcelain cool against your raging flesh. Your legs spread further of their own accord. You cry out, not caring if the whole goddamn bar hears you.

He withdraws and you feel empty until he’s ramming back into you. It goes on like that over and over and over. Tears drip down your face. Your moans of pleasure echo off the walls until you’re sure you’ve drawn spectators outside the door. With each thrust, your hips run into the sink. The balance between pain and pleasure quickly sends you to the edge, tension curling in your stomach.

Your legs shake. “Please, I’m so close.”

“You’re such a good girl, and a tight fucking cunt too.” He grits out, skin slapping against yours. “You gonna cum for me?”

“Yes, please.” His cock hits deep within you. Your breath catches. “Javier! I wanna cum for you.”

His fingers find your clit, his pace keeping steady and you’re coming in seconds, drenching his cock. He’s not far behind you, emptying himself inside you with a loud moan.

He pulls out of you, taking a second to collect himself. You’re draped over the sink, unable to move.

He pulls his pants up, tucking himself into his pants like it’s just another Tuesday.

He comes over to you, pulling you up gently, letting your skirt fall back into place. You struggle still to catch your breath. He cups your cheeks, wiping away the tears and smudged mascara, smoothing out your hair. You feel him leaking out of you.

“Too much?” He asks

You smile breathlessly “Just right”

He chuckles, kissing you softly, hands finding your waist. “Good girl.”

Once you’re home, he cleans you up, kissing your hips where bruises have already started to form.

He snuggles in close to you, both naked and without the comforter due to the heat, pressing soft kisses to your head.

His fingertips trail across your body aimlessly.

You let your eyes fall shut to his beating heart. “Wouldn’t mind doing that again sometime.”

He laughs, brushing your hair back as your breathing evens out. “I’ll keep that in mind, Darlin.”

[nerdieforpedro]

Becoming Little Dove

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Summary: Taking a ferry to the island of Mykonos leads to a discovery of the tourist variety and some of the carnal variety.

Warnings: wonderlust, following sexy strangers, implied sexual activity, thruple?, notes, expectations

Word Count: just under 800

Notes: So a spin off of the Secret Springs? Or maybe something that brought back to the Springs? This little fic is thanks to this ask from @secretelephanttattoo and maybe somewhere @frenchiereading may or may not have gone. 👀 Also I’ve been thinking about Oberyn and Ellaria a lot, so here we are.

Main Masterlist/ Oberyn Martell Masterlist / Secret Springs Masterlist/ AO3 Link

The strong breeze as you overlook the clear blue waters has you squinting to try and see any fish that might be swimming. With the ferry traveling toward Mykonos, you’re excited to visit the island and see more of the waters, architecture, put your feet in the sand, try some local food and figure out what else you can do.

Stepping off the ferry, you follow the crowd as all of you form lines to exit the ferry and descend upon the island. You’re a bit slower to do so, taking in the sights and sounds. The fresh salt air has you inhale deeply and close your eyes, just for a moment. When you open your eyes, a tall gentleman wearing a white tunic with matching white linen pants and navy blue boat shoes. The ends of his sleeves and hem of his pants have an alternating dark and powder blue to them that would look silly on anyone else. He wears it with such confidence and offers you a hand, the grin he bears is mischievous like he has many a secret he’s waiting for you to earn the tale behind. The man’s chocolate brown eyes invite with their warmth.

Greetings are exchanged and you put your hand in his. Only after following him along and between unnamed streets. Greeting various people he knows, eating foods that you aren’t sure that either of you paid for and snapping postures among the majestic alabaster white of the buildings does it dawn on you to ask the man’s name. He didn’t ask for yours either, beckoning you along through gentle caresses and pulls on your hand or arm.

The entire day was spent exploring that you hadn’t figured out which direction your accommodations were. The stranger chuckles and ruffles his shirt chestnut hair before cupping your face and bringing you to one of the many buildings built in the mountains on the island. A woman in similar white garb as him greets you both at the door. She gave a stern look for a moment but softened when she laid her eyes on you, bringing you into a tight hug. Oberyn, as she called him, received a quick peck on the lips from her. Your heart sinks for a moment as you might have thought there was a spark between the two of you. The raven-haired woman makes not of your despondent face and giggles, patting your cheek and putting her soft lips to yours.

“Now, now, no need to be disappointed on your first day here. Your journey is just beginning on the cerulean waters. My prince brought you here because he sees something within you we want to draw out. Come inside won’t you?” Ellaria Sand is the name you learn to call her later.

The sheets that the three of you lay on each night are a deep sapphire that contrasts with your collective tangled limbs for the week long bodily odyssey.

It was a curious adventure away from the Secret Springs and when you return to your resort with a magnet that spells out “Greece” it reminds you of the colors you first saw Oberyn and Ellaria in. There’s an open invitation to return as they enjoyed your company greatly.

Maybe you’ll be back on that ferry sooner than you thought to drown in their depths once more.

When you arrive back to your room, there’s a white and blue card with yellow writing, a small sun in the upper left corner and two snakes on either side of the signature on your bed:

We hope you made it back to your room safely, little dove. Ellaria and I reveled in your company and look forward to doing so again.

If you’re open to the three of us making a splendid mess of your private chambers, call the number at the bottom of the card.

The Red Viper and his Solar Guide

After taking a shower and changing into something a bit more comfortable, you dial the number and sit on the bed to inform them of your choice. Venturing out, getting something to eat and bringing back bottled water to the room in preparation and hydration is key.

In the evening, the knock at your door excites you and you’re greeted with Oberyn wearing his signature gold and Ellaria doing the same. He holds several bottles of oils and a spirit or two for later libations. Ellaria carries silk ribbons which she’ll use to bind both you and Oberyn with.

Your room will be thoroughly used and all of its surfaces claimed as the three of you explore each other once more.

Such can be the nature of the springs and the islands if you let them. Wild. Wonderful and quite wet.

Wanderers of the island 🏝️: @maggiemayhemnj @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @avastrasposts

@jessthebaker @bitchwitch1981 @morallyinept @inept-the-magnificent @tinytinymenace

@connectioneverywhere @lotusbxtch @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @lady-bess @magpiepills

@604to647 @for-a-longlongtime @goodwithcheese @sin-djarin @djarinmuse

@undercoverpena-fics @rosecentaur1916 @westside-rot @spacecowboyhotch @kilamonster

@fhatbhabiee @bluestar22x @bishtrouille @soft-girl-musings @yorksgirl

@guelyury

[skyartworkzzz]

COTL Headcanons ramble

Felt like sharing these in case I take a long ass time to draw it out These are still raw in my mind, so some things may change futurely or the way I explain it might not make sense BUT ALAS it is fun to ramble

SO WATCH OUT FOR THE LIST UNDER THE CUT!!

Before Narinder was banished, a feeling of mistrust was already growing amongst the siblings, and one of the reasons for such a thing involved envy (except for Shamura, I like to think they were above finding themselves lower or greater than anyone) Ever since a young age Narinder has always been a fast-learner, and quite skilled at everything he did. Gardening, fighting, cooking, strategizing, he was good. Definitely not perfect, but alarmingly good So as time went by, the Bishops grew colder with him until he eventually turned against them all, and thats where their feeling of envy turned into fear. For both of their own lives and their brother's, because that's when they realized his "flawless" abilities were always and clearly prone to turning him into the monster he then became (smtng like Anakin Skywalker if the image I have of him in my head makes any sense-) Naturally, a feeling of guilt lingers in them for not having been able to see it sooner and stop it, but as Shamura pointed out after Narinder was sealed, this was meant to happen. He was meant to be a monster, and a really good one

Aym and Baal were secretly given to Narinder by Shamura; they performed a ritual by themselves and killed the kits to send them to the Gates. When the brothers arrived, Narinder reluctantly took them in and naturally grew fond of the twins as time went by, but because they were sacrificed as offerings, Aym and Baal were half-immortal (something like the Lamb once they receive the Crown), meaning that they still had mortal needs such as eating or sleeping At the time, Ratau was serving Narinder as the bearer of the Red Crown, and amongst the rat's adventure, the god of Death eventually introduced the red chest we use to sell things for gold. He would request Ratau regularly to send in meals and fish in order to feed Aym and Baal (and I feel like a genius for coming up with why that chest exists hi-) When the kits were finally fully grown and well-trained, they ascended to Divine Guardians of TOWW and officially started serving him Despite their Ascension, Aym and Baal were never trapped into the Gates, so they were able to visit the world above but as ghosts of sorts (which means only a few ppl would be able to see them). It was through these ghostly travels that both were able to learn who their mother was and watched her from afar when not serving TOWW

The Bishops were once mortals before becoming bearers of the Crowns, a long time to ago, meaning that they likely have a life they no longer rememeber For the funs and giggles of it, I like to imagine that this "long time ago" for them was around the times animals still did not wear clothes nor knew how to speak aside from their respective noises AUHAUHASDJSD ALSO POSSIBLY LESS HUMANOID I like the thought of them looking either much more beast-like or just- tiny. Very tiny. As the animals they are AUHAJMDKADS

The Lamb doesnt know how to do SHIT aside from fighting. Im writing my Lamb as an artist in my Death After Life fic for the sake of the angst, but in actuality, they do not care about art that much. I like to think that they'd prefer small silly doodles over full-blown paintings, but if they do put in the time and effort, they manage to make smtng Mona Lisa-esque. So the skill is there, but they prefer to not use it unless for smtng specific. Its like those kinds of hobbies nobody knows u have til u make smtng CRAZY yk This also goes for cooking, except they are truly a Terrible cook, in modern AU Lambert lives off from cheap pizzas and dollar-stored cupnoodles u cannot change my min-

Leshy is the one who'd soften up the most for me. Obv still a fcking GREMLIN but I think he'd be much more considerate than his former self My guy would go from "kys /srs" to "kys /j" ALSO I like to think his and my yellow cat's love language is gifts and/or acts of service, theyre oftenly pampering each other out of the blue <3

This idea is still in the approval stages but.............Shamura remembers a bit of their pre-Bishop life. A bit. And that bit revolves around the fact that they might have known love in the past. Perhaps a romantic one, Im still not sure- Which now that I think about it would make the most sense as to why theyre so forgiving to Narinder, since the Bishop of War would probs want anything but peace with those that wronged them, unless they had a good reason not to cause havoc immediately............