#but i haven’t touched the doc in a while

[mittenlady]

me when college is less in a day but also more in a day and also wow where did my free time go wow

[1hyunjae]

[classyrbf]

PART 2 OF PRISONER!GETO

prisoner!geto who can’t stop thinking about late at night, getting so worked up and horny, the most horny he’s been in a while. He’s pulling his pants down, closing his eyes while he pictures the way your scrubs clung to your body and showed off your ass. He thanks god he doesn’t have a bunkie or else he’d be in a real awkward position. He purposely gets into another fight a week later, the wound on his lip opening back up. He’s smiling to himself as he gets walked to the infirmary knowing he’ll see you there.

“Not you again,” you sigh.

“Told you I’d see you soon, doctor.” He sits on the small bed, watching as you put on gloves and examine his busted lip. He can tell you’re avoiding eye contact with him, trying your hardest to ignore his stares and slight touches. “Have you thought about my offer yet?” He asks.

You gulp, blinking as you rub the ointment over his wound. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play stupid, but you remember your last conversation so clearly. It makes you nervous. All he does is laugh.

“Come on. I’ll even beg.” He grabs your wrist, slowing pulling it down, a smug smirk on his handsome face. “You telling me you haven’t thought about it once since we last seen each other?” He whispers. He parts his legs, pulling you in between them. And god, you smell so good. So sweet. He could just eat you up right here.

You stand there, unable to form words because as much as you want to say no, you want to say yes. He makes your heart race and your pussy wet. What a sly bastard. With his stupid tattoos, muscles, hair and chiseled face. You hate how much effect he has on you.

“Listen,” he rubs a hand down your waist, “meet me in the supply closet by the showers during lunchtime if you’re really down.” He flashed a smile before standing to his feet and walking out the infirmary. “Bye, bye, doctor.”

Come lunchtime, you walked through the halls of the prison, mentally cursing at yourself. It’s just one time, one time. You bet he won’t even be there, that he’s just playing a stupid joke cause he’s bored with himself. And as you reach out to open the supply door, your heart beats against your ribcage, looking around to find the halls empty. You step in, seeing him leaning against the wall, the faint rays of light allowing you to make out some of his features. “Well, look who it is,” he chuckles. “Came here to help me out, doc?” He walks over to you, trapping you between him and the door.

“Shut up already and let’s get it over with.” You smash your lips on his, kissing him with such urgency and fervor. His large hands grab at your ass, squeezing and groping it as he pushes you against the wall, knocking a few things over. You both pull away, breathing heavily, lips swollen. “We gotta be quick,” you whisper, undoing his jumpsuit while he pulls down your pants.

“More eager than I am, huh?” He teases, earning an eye roll from you. “Come here.” He bends you over the small wooden table, snatching your panties off and getting a good feel of your ass. His dick jumps, pre cum already leaking from the swollen tip. He’s already so worked up, so ready to feel your wet and tight cunt. “Fuck,” he grunts, running his head over your sopping slit, nudging your clit slightly. “Already so fucking wet.”

He pushes his throbbing tip past your folds, a small gasp leaving your lips when you feel how thick he is. Inch by inch you feel the stretch, you mouth agape as you try and grow accustomed to his size. Geto’s entire body shivers, his fingers pressing into your skin so hard you’re sure he’d leave marks. “Ohhh shit,” he lets out a shaky breath. God, it’s been so fucking long since he’s had some good pussy and he can already tell he won’t last long. He finally bottoms out, feeling your walls clench around his length, sucking him in. “My god,” he laughs in your ear. “Lemme just enjoy this feeling—fuckkk—for a moment,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut.

He finally starts moving his hips, feeling his tip press against your cervix with each thrust. With each passing second, he gets faster, fucking your harder and rougher, your pussy has got him in a trance. “Pussy feels so fucking good,” he grips your hips, pulling you back towards him so you can meet his thrusts. One of his hands reach around your throat, gripping it just enough as he pulls you back against his broad chest. “Do you fuck all of your patients or am I just special?” He jokes.

“Mmmm…shut—ah—up!” You cry out, whimpering when he presses up against you, finding a new angle that makes your eyes roll back. “Just keep fucking me,”you say with a raspy breath.

“Doctors orders.” He can feel the way your pussy leaks, your juices dripping down his shaft and make his cock ache like never before. It almost hurts. He hold you tighter against him, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room. “You take it so well,” he breathes against your skin, pressing wet kisses to your neck. “So fucking well.” His thrusts grow sloppier, chasing his own orgasm. But in the distance, he hears the guards walking down the hall. “Shh, shh, shh.” His hand covers your mouth, his thrusts becoming slow and deep, letting you feel every inch of his cock, every vein, every pulse before hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you.

Your eyes squeeze shut, trying your hardest to keep quiet, the guard getting closer and closer. Their keys jingle with each step and their voices grow louder. “Atta girl. You feel how fucking deep I am…shiittt. Keep fucking squeezing me like that—yeah, yeah you’re gonna make me fucking cum.” His brows furrow as he bites down as his bottom lip in attempts to contain his moans, but his abs tense up and his entire body shakes before he’s filling you up, stuffing you with his sticky, hot cum. “No, no, don’t you dare move. Just like thattt, oh yes!” His eyes roll back, still cumming. His pushes his cum deeper inside of you, feeling it leak back out before he finally pulls out.

Geto truly wishes he could’ve had more time with you. His mouth drooling over the mere thought of how you taste, wanting to make you cum on his tongue, but for now he’ll have to settle for this. “You came inside me, asshole!” You pull your pants back up, turning to face him.

“Couldn’t let it go to waste.” He reaches out and stroke your cheek. “Right?”

“Whatever.” You swat his hand away. “Where are my underwear?” You look around the dimly lit room before realizing he was holding them.

“I’ll be keeping these for later,” he swung them in your face before stuffing them in his pocket.

“You’re such a pervert.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You have my cum running down your leg right now.” He places a finger under your chin, tilting it towards him as he leans down and kisses you slowly, his tongue sliding over yours before catching your bottom lip. “Mmm, thank you, doctor.” He smiles before kissing you once more.

You push him off of you, trying to process everything you just did right now. It was so wrong but it felt so right, so good, so intoxicating. “If it makes you feel any better, I get out in six months.”

“No. This was a one time thing.” You place a hand on his chest, shaking your head.

“Was it? Cause I don’t think it was. Not with the way your pussy was squeezing around me. It was almost like she was made for me.” He cups your face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes searches yours, a smile forming at the corner of his lips. “Yeah…it definitely isn’t the last time.”

[gaylittleguys]

My bg3 tav August lore that I’m thinking about rn

I (jokingly) made him be aware of immediate failed futures as a way to deal with my reloads, and yay give the poor man some trauma around seeing his friends die over and over again when he’s already got strong saviour issues lmao. Which I have also incorporated my near-restart into as making a deal with idk. The Time Being. to have a second chance and be sent back with a few vague memories of what happened the first time. (Also greying his hair, doubling as a way to differentiate the timelines) I’ve also decided to give him some warlock magic when I levelled up, as a boon from his choice from the Time Being or whatever. It’s fun playing with something that’s completely my own doing with him lol but it does still have consequences in how I’m playing.

I’m almosttttt at where I was on the first go. Excited to see how things will go when I’m back in completely uncharted territory again!

[generalsmemories]

Admiral, the general is touch-deprived.

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: "Please do one if you haven’t where Jing Yuan is severely down bad for reader and makes it known to everyone and they are just done with him"

✧ content: established relationship, fluff, make-out scene, humor, mentions of other characters

✧ a/n: where did almost 100 of you come- bless this ask for making me write needy jing yuan i love you. not beta-read again anyway buckle up this is another one of unfiltered shame for my love for one mere general with a silly thunder lord that he nicknamed shin-kun in the jp dub because the official title was way too long for this old man.

this was written in a google doc on the phone since I'm on vacation so I apologize if the formatting is messier than the first post 🫡

There's tension in the air.

"... As for Stargazer Navidia, there seems to be another onslaught of mara-struck cloud knights making their way within the area in the next few days. I'll appoint Lieutenant Yanqing to lead a few troops there by the next hour, but be sure to send a messenger cycrane if the situation gets too out of hand or you need to divide the troops up to cover more ground."

You hear a loud "Yes!" as you flip over to the next page, quickly scanning through the documents contents, purposefully ignoring the tension in the air, muttering the details lowly to yourself with a furrowed eyebrow.

It's the sort of tension you wish everyone just ignored, even though it's more difficult than it sounds.

Perhaps being fed up with your avoidance of ignoring the elephant in the room, one of the captains of the Knights loudly cough into the air before meekly addressing you, "Admiral [Name]?"

"Yes?" you look up with a smile, cocking your head to the side. A small gesture to ensure the captain that they have your full attention which makes the knight before you quickly glance to the side and away from you, although that didn't help the pair of eyes boring a hole into the side of his head, "The general…" he starts, coughing once again while glancing back and forth at you and the weapons displayed at the seat of Divine Foresight, "... Would very much like your attention, it seems."

As if on cue, the arms that were wrapped around your waist squeeze a bit tighter than normal. The sudden pressure makes you let out a grunt of surprise while Qingzu lets out another exhausted sigh. Meanwhile you glance down to lock eyes with Jing Yuan, who very much is staring at you with a small pout evident on his lips, "Oh so my darling has finally acknowledged my existence?" he jokes with a grin, meanwhile you merely stare down back at him with a neutral expression before resting your left arm carrying the paperwork on his gray head. The general uses the opportunity to nuzzle his face into your waist, playfully biting into an exposed part of your skin from where his hand had wormed itself underneath your shirt, making you squirm away from him, to which he immediately grabs your back into his hold.

"If you haven't noticed dear, you're practically leeching onto me to the point I can't even stand at my usual side, that is to per say in front of the desk and not literally quite next to you and within your arms." You whisper to him gently. Flicking his forehead before whipping your head around to address the Cloud Knights before your husband can say anything in his defense.

You ignore the looks of disbelief on some of the soldiers' faces.

"I apologize for the awkwardness this position may cause, I can only hope for your understanding being that I've been away from the Luofu for a few months helping Marshal Fua with some matters at her fleet. I've only recently come back." you explain, gesturing Qingzu over to hand over the paperwork to her before waving your hand with a guilty smile, "You're all dismissed, please be safe out there."

"Lady Fu Xuan, how may I be of assis-"

"Are you two arguing or something?" Fu Xuan interrupts before you can even finish your sentence which leaves you staring wide eyed at her with your mouth agape, "Pardon? I'm not quite sure who you're referring to-"

"The general. I'm referring to general Jing Yuan, who else would I be referring to? He sits around the seat of Divine Foresight like a kicked puppy. Which makes it even harder to get any information in OR to him because he's not even mentally present! Can you fix him? Wonderful! Let's make haste to the seat."

You're not even allowed to finish your cup of tea or give an answer before the divination commissioner grabs you by the forearms and drags you out of the teahouse.

"Jing-" you haven't even taken one step into the seat of Divine Foresight before you're surrounded by the familiar scent of your husband. A gentle hand placed by your head while an arm is tightly wound around your waist. You can practically feel the smile of utter glee on Jing Yuan's lips as he buries his face into your hair.

"Darling, I thought you had the day off today?" he mutters into your hair, sounding a bit too happy to have you in his arms again to the point he's ignoring the death glares from Fu Xuan besides you, the divination commissioner just wanting to do her part of keeping the Luofu afloat.

"I was having my day off, before Lady Fu Xuan here dragged me out because someone didn't-" you struggle free to nag at him, but your husband merely smiles softly at you before lifting your chin to give you a quick kiss, "Now that you're here I feel more energized than ever, let me finish the paperwork for today and I'll join you, we can even play a round of starchess." he suggests.

You can practically sense Fu Xuan roll her eyes in disgust, able to hear her mutter about a "lovesick fool" before walking past the two of you, Jing Yuan merely grabbing your hand to lead you towards the seat.

So much for a day off.

You can't breathe.

"Jing-" another press of his lips onto yours as you find yourself pressed on the wall beside the door, "Yanqing-" you manage to breathe out when finally able to pull a tiny bit away from him. Pressing your hand over whatever surface of his face you can reach to try to shove him away, your other hand occupied with bracing itself against the wall.

Your husband ignores your literal hand on his face, somehow having more strength to still slant his lips across your own despite your efforts, the hand he has behind your head pushing you further against him while he shoves a leg between your own to keep you still, "Train-"

There's a rather loud set of knocks on your bedroom door followed by an exasperated sigh coming from behind it, which makes you freeze but Jing Yuan ignores it, sliding his tongue over your teeth while you resign yourself to slam your fist repeatedly on his back to get him to back off.

"General! I know you missed [Name] a lot during the months they were away from the Luofu, but you know that today is supposed to be a training day!" Yanqing shouts from behind the door, and you feel sorry over the realization he's aware of what's happening beyond it.

Feeling sorry enough for Yanqing whose probably already waited 15 minutes before knocking at the door, you muster whatever little strength you have left against your husband's addictive lips to grab his ponytail and yank him off and away from you.

Jing Yuan merely grunts in irritation, looking at you with a glare and swollen lips, but you ignore him. Opening the door before Jing Yuan can grab you again and giving Yanqing an apologetic look, "I tried-"

"It's better than last time, at least." He points out to which you merely sigh before opening the door wider, "I'll give you more pocket money this month, how's that for compensation?" You suggest, shoving your husband out the door before he do anything else, Yanqing smiling in triumph at your generosity.

"You're the best! Give me extra if I manage to land a few hits on the general?"

"5 more than usual and I'll give you an extra thousand." You settle, tapping Jing Yuan on the shoulder. Your husband turns around to face you with a hum, and you lean in to peck him on the cheek, gliding your lips over to his ear, "If you're a bit nicer to him today you'll also get a reward."

Needless to say, there were two very happy boys onboard the Luofu at the end of the day.

[starsinthesky5]

dating joe burrow (headcannons) || joe burrow x reader

description: little things about you and joe’s relationship 💗💗

a/n: this was a request I got! (request can be found here) i haven’t tried this before so im feeling it out :) the fact that it took me the whole week to write this is wild 😭 let me know if you guys like this or have any thoughts, ideas, whatever 💗

side note- almost had a heart attack because i thought none of this saved. this is what i get for writing directly in my tumblr drafts and not google docs first like usual

word count: 4.1 k

warnings: allusions to smut

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he’s a total gentleman. he's always opening your doors for you, carrying your bags, and you never have to ask him to. he just does it on his own, it was a sweet unspoken rule. he says that he knows you’re incredibly capable of doing things on your own and he loves that about you, but he says you always deserve ‘the princess treatment’ and no princess should ever break a sweat or struggle with anything 

he’s always holding your hand when you two are walking together. he hated when you couldn't hold hands because it made him feel far away from you (even if you were right next to him). holding your soft hand, running his thumb along your soft skin, and having your fingers intertwined was the best feeling in the world for joe 

when you're out on the streets, he's always watching out for anything you might step on or walk into such as puddles, uneven surfaces, or grates where your heel may get caught in. you joked that he was like your personal bodyguard, and he took on that role and title proudly. he said that guarding you was a more important job than being a quarterback for a billion-dollar franchise--that's how much he cared for you 

he wasn’t a big touchy-feely guy, but with you? with you it was a completely different story. his hands were always on you, his lips were always pressing sweet kisses around some part of your body, and he was so addicted to you. when he was with you, touching you was all he could think about and when he wasn't with you, he was always fantasizing about the next time he was 

he loves kissing your neck. sometimes a little roughly to leave a few pretty marks so 'everyone knew who you belonged to' but sometimes very sweetly & gently. so many sweet kisses. his soft lips left no part of your body untouched. he was so soft around you compared to the way he was around friends, his teammates, and family. the second it was just the two of you, he became a little baby--your little baby--and was the most precious thing on the planet

you two could be watching a movie on the couch and somehow his head would end up in the crook of your neck, all his focus on kissing your soft skin instead of what was happening on the TV screen 

this would happen when you were trying to finish up some stuff for work too. you would be typing away on your computer and he'd be sitting next to you, so bored and in need of attention from you. he'd start pressing light kisses around your collarbone, and then move up your neck, his kisses getting rougher and more alluring. next thing you knew, your computer was on the floor along with a pile of both your clothes 

he loves it when you thread your fingers through his soft hair while he lays his head on your chest, which he also loves. he loved laying his head on your chest because something about hearing your heartbeat made him feel safe, feel at peace. his arms always wrapped around your middle and his cheek was always squished against your breasts. he just adored it--maybe even for a few other reasons too ;). seeing him like that after a hard day at practice or after a rigorous workout brought you so much satisfaction. you made him feel like that. he didn't need anything else to make him feel like that, just you. it was that simple 

he’s always giving you his full attention when you’re talking. it’s like you’re the only person in the room for him. you two could be on the sidelines of paycor right before kickoff, surrounded by thousands of fans and football players, but you’re the only person he’d be able to see and hear. the rest of the world disappears around him whenever he hears your pretty voice 

your family love love loves joe. 

initially, when you told them you were seeing someone and that someone was joe burrow, they didn’t believe you. they couldn’t believe that you bagged a football player, specifically the star quarterback, and you were slightly offended for a second but their initial reaction made the look on their faces even more enjoyable when you brought joe to your hometown for the first time with no warning 

joe was so nervous to meet your family, it was honestly so cute. he was so quiet and trying to keep calm the entire way to your parents' house. joe was the most confidant person and the most shy person you knew. the cool guy persona he sported every game day was there, but so was the adorable little shy baby that got in his head about things sometimes. he just wanted to be perfect for your family, wanted to show that he was the right man for their perfect & special daughter

your family loved him as soon as they saw him carefully help you out of his car, holding your hand tightly, and leading you to the front door all while making sure that your dress wasn't showing too much because of how intense the wind was that day. he was an absolute gentleman for you, and they loved that

he hit it off with your family within 10 minutes of being at your house, it was insane. he had so much in common with your siblings and even had great conversations with your parents. there was no silence in the house that day because everything was just constantly flowing naturally

he was most anxious around your dad but all of his nerves disappeared once he called joe out to the porch for a drink after dinner. joe thought he was about to get the 'you're a professional athlete, I know how they roll and I'll make your life hell if you break my daughter's heart' talk, but it was the complete opposite. your dad told him how thankful he was to joe for being in your life, for putting that everlasting smile on your face, for making you feel loved in a way you never had been loved before. that's what joe needed to hear, that he was doing good with you. doing good for you 

he’s so respectful to your parents and even addressed them as ‘sir and ma’am’ for a good second. you tried to tell him it was alright to refer to them by their first names, but he felt awkward about it because of how much respect he had for them even though this was his first time meeting them

eventually, he started calling them by their first names. you could see that he was getting more and more comfortable around them and didn’t feel the need to hold up a super suave act. he could be himself around you and your family, they felt like home to him. you felt like home to him

joe's parents loved you as soon as they met you as well 

they were so thrilled that joe had a woman like you in his life. someone who showed him so much love, care, and support 

you weren't super nervous to meet them, mostly because he gave you no time to be. he knew that if he told you in advance that you were going to Athens, you'd freak the hell out. so that's why he told you about 30 minutes before you reached his parent's house. you figured that he was just taking you someplace like a park to go on a walk or something simple like that, not to meet his freaking parents 

joe loved that he could bring you home to his family. he loved that he could show you around Athens and experience all the things he did growing up but in a new light because you were with him

he brought you to his favorite spots to eat, his favorite places to go on walks, his favorite shops, and places he spent a lot of time while growing up. he even snuck you into the football stadium--his football stadium--at the high school one night. joe remembered feeling his heart explode at the sight of your beaming smile once you stepped onto the field and saw his name plastered around the stadium. you just felt so proud of him and your entire body showed that. that's the moment he knew he loved you

he said those three special words, those eight letters, to you first. it came out so nonchalantly one night like it was something that was meant to roll off his tongue that easily. hearing those three words come from his mouth for the first time felt so right, like the stars and planets aligned specifically for you both in this moment. 

the funny thing was, he said it as you guys were stargazing. you were lying on a big blanket in his backyard and watching the planets & stars together

you were looking up at the sky and there was a big smile on your face as you counted how many stars you could see. joe also had a big smile on his face, but not because of the stars. it was because of you. he was looking over at you, thinking about how he was genuinely the happiest he had ever been in his life at this moment, how things finally felt right in his life. it was all because of you

"the stars make me think about how infinite the universe is, but even with all that endless space, the thing I want most in the world is right here next to me. being with you makes everything else feel small, like all I need is right here," he said to you

and then he ended his sweet small speech with an adorable, sorta quiet because he felt nervous, 'i love you'

you felt your heart explode when you heard him say those three words. the same three words you wanted to say to him since the day you met. you had never loved someone like you loved joe, this was so special and you both knew it 

his house was so clean and organized, the exact opposite of what you thought it'd be like when you first came over. you thought it would be full-on bachelor pad, messy, boy vibes. but it really wasn't. it was clean, organized, well-decorated, and it stayed like that. it really felt like a man lived there, not a boy. and joe was a man all right, that was very clear 

joe loved to send you cheesy football puns. his personal favs were "you're the touchdown to my game-winning drive", "you've intercepted my heart and I'm not even mad about it", and "you're the MVP of my heart"

lots of late-night snack runs after prime-time games. it was honestly insane to you at first because you thought he'd want to get home ASAP, but he wanted his sweet treat--and he wasn't just talking about you ;)

he even brings you to practice sometimes. you loved to watch him from the sides, doing his thing and watching him in his element. he sometimes even through the ball back and forth with you before or after practice--always showing off a little to make you laugh

your form had definitely gotten better ever since you started throwing with him. you are learning from the best of the best

joe's closet is your closet. he loves it when you take his shirts and hoodies. you love how big his stuff is on you and also how everything smells just like him. it's even better when he's away and you're missing him. his scent is always on you no matter what

joe's always there for you whenever you come home from a hard day at work or are just having a shitty day in general. he's always there, holding you against his chest, letting you soak his shirt with your tears while he presses soft kisses on your forehead and listens to you vent about everything

he knows how hard you work, so it breaks his heart to see you crack under pressure or feel like you weren't doing enough. he gave the best advice and was the best listener, having him in your corner was the best thing that could've happened to you

it was also the best thing that could've happened to him. you were his escape from the pressure that the football life brought. his peace after all the chaos that transpired on the field. his calm within the storm

joe likes to get up early, like early early. he says that he likes to get the most out of the day, which is fair. but it's honestly so bad because you hate getting up early, but his adorable morning smile makes up for it. it's the first thing you're graced with when you get up

when he wakes up, you wake up (even if you feel like dying because it's so early). he always ends up laying his head on your chest as he presses kisses along your skin, your fingers lightly scratching his scalp at the same time. it's the best way to wake up in all honesty. in each other's embrace, all warm, cozy, and secure

he's so cute in the morning. his hair is all messy and he has this raspy voice that makes you want to pounce on him, even if it is still a little dark outside as the sun isn't even fully up. 

during the off-season, he made it a rule that he'd cook you breakfast at least twice a week. joe wasn't the best cook (he was learning) so his attempts at cooking breakfast were always so sweet to watch 

also because watching him cook breakfast half-naked was like personal porn for you. his tan, bare, muscular back was the star of the show

he'd attempt to make you french toast, pancakes, waffles, literally anything your heart desired. he got better each time he made you food, but also because he'd help you out whenever you made dinner so he picked up on a few skills 

it was pretty funny whenever he'd have breakfast fails. like the first time he tried to make french toast, he burnt them and one piece even caught on fire. it was so funny to watch him run around frantically trying to make sure he didn't burn the house down

he loved to help you out when you made dinner. he made himself your little sous chef, helping you out in any way he could. he'd turn on some music so you two danced around in the kitchen as you cooked together, it was something so simple but it brought you two so much joy

your favorite songs to dance around to together were disco by surf curse, my girl by the temptations, angeleyes by abba, heavenly by cigarettes after sex, apocalypse by cigarettes after sex, hunger by ross copperman, pretty boy by the neighbourhood, and lover by taylor swift

sometimes you were so caught up in dancing together that you completely forgot about the food on the stove. the dancing sometimes led to some other things, so naturally, you got distracted. you would end up ordering some chinese takeout and calling it a night whenever that happened 

joe loves kissing you. like a lot 

sure, he loves kissing spots around your body, but nothing could compare to the feeling he'd get when your lips were pressed against his

that man loves his sloppy, sexy, slow makeout sessions more than anything. noses brushing against each other, his hands wandering around your perfect body, tasting each other...it was so good. especially because 90% of the time they led to some other things ;)

joe was so careful with you in that sense. he always made sure you were alright before you two did anything. he never pressured you for anything, everything would be done on your terms 

he's too good in bed. like it's insane. he quite honestly takes your breath away. he can do it all. slow lovemaking & hair-pull worthy, sheet-gripping sex. the way he worshipped your body was truly something out of a fairytale. you'd lose track of time whenever you two got in bed like that, and it was honestly worth it. he was just so damn good. you wanted to stay like that with him as long as you could

he's a lowkey blanket hogger too. he wraps himself in a little burrito blanket, looking all cozy and soft while you stare at him with a straight-lipped face. buttt he caves and lets you into his little blanket burrito. it's so comfy, especially in the winter. the combined heat coming from his body and the blanket made you feel like you were in a soft cocoon 

joe loves it when you call him joey, J, burrito (a funny play on 'burrow'), or JB. you didn't really use his other nicknames such as shiesty, joe cool, or joe brr because it felt wrong. those were all football joe names. your nicknames for joe were just joe names 

he loved that he was just joe to you. he made sure when you first started dating, you got to know just joe. not Cincinnati Bengals star quarterback joe burrow. just joe

you always found joe doing the most normal things super hot and sexy. he could just be sitting on the couch and doing something on his iPad and you'd find yourself drooling (it was definitely because of that man spread that sent you into orbit)

bringing in bags of groceries out of your car, washing the dishes, putting away your laundry for you, cleaning up the kitchen. it was all so fucking hot. he was just so hot 

sometimes while he was doing these things, you'd have an epiphany. you'd realize that he was all yours. nobody else's, just yours. he'd laugh whenever he caught you like this. it was so enchanting to him how you'd randomly become hyperaware that you were his girlfriend and he was your boyfriend 

you and joe love flowers so much. you always surprise him with random flower deliveries (especially after a loss) because you know his face will automatically light up once he sees the beautiful plants. he also scheduled weekly flower deliveries for you. a vase of flowers would be at your door every monday morning, the perfect way to start off the week

he loves to pamper you as well 

he's always buying you things without reason. clothes, jewelry, books, random little knick-knacks. he just loved to show how much he loved you in every shape and form possible

all of your daily jewelry was given to you by him. your two necklaces (one being a necklace with his initial), your 3 bracelets, your 4 rings (two on each hand, one being a promise ring), and your anklet which had 9 citrine orange gemstones in it along with multiple diamonds

proper date nights are a must in your relationship. even during the season, he made sure you had one night in the week where you two went out for dinner together. but you'd also have the best date nights at home

sometimes you just ended up building legos on the floor & watching a silly movie as a date night, but you two loved doing simple things like this. sometimes you'd just eat dinner outside in the backyard together as a date night. sometimes you'd just go on a night stroll together. simple things like that were special because it kept you two grounded. you didn't need to go out and drop $200 on some fancy dinner when you could have the same level of enjoyment by sitting on the floor, building a lego set from 'the office', and stuffing your faces with takeout. as long as you were together, you didn't really care what you did 

he never fails to tell you how amazing you are. those sweet nothings he'd whisper in your ear every night before bed were the things you craved the most in your previous relationships. just being told how much you brighten his world, how pretty you are, how easy it is to love you, and other things like that made your day. he never skipped out on telling you those things

you love hearing his laugh. whenever he laughs around you, he laughs with his whole body. it's such a sweet sound, a sound you wish you could hear forever

you were so obsessed with joe’s body. his thick thighs, large muscles, veiny hands, and gorgeous face. he was a literal greek god, it was so hard to believe this man was real. he was equally as obsessed with your body too, and he made sure to show you that almost every night ;) 

your friends love joe so much. they always call him your prince charming, the man who made all your dreams come true and the man who treats you like you're a real-life princess. they always tease you because of how down bad you act for him too. whenever you're with them and joe isn't there, they have to keep a tally of how many times you bring him up or say 'i miss joe'. they find it precious that you act that way for him 

when he first met your best friends over dinner, he was lowkey intimated by them. they're so protective over you, so they had this tough front on. the entire dinner was like a test for him, and he passed it with flying colors

they watched as he paid such close attention to everything you said, how he was holding your hand under the table, how he subtly checked in on you to see if you were comfortable, offering his jacket in case you were cold, stayed off his phone the entire time, his nonchalant & genuine compliments towards you, making sure you were included in all the conversations, actively engaging with your friends and making a genuine effort to get to know them, his gentle touches like placing his arm around you or lightly rubbing your arm, how he spoke so highly of you, how he took care of the small things such as filling your water glass without you even having to ask, the little inside jokes you two had, and noticing and responding to your little signals when you got anxious that only your friends knew about until now

after the dinner, your girls pulled you over and they had the biggest smiles on their faces. they told you to send them a save-the-date invite ASAP because they knew you were going to marry that man. they saw the way he acted around you and that alone was enough to seal the deal 

his friends loved you too. they instantly noticed how perfectly you matched joe's vibe, how happy you made him, and how you were practically made for one another. they called you two peanut butter & jelly; you went together so well

game days were always so fun for you two

you grew up in a football family so you were already a big football girl before you even met joe. being a football players girlfriend was written in the stars for you 

joe didn't believe you initially when you mentioned to him how much you loved football. he thought you were just saying that to impress him. he found out the hard way that you were being serious 

you two were watching a MNF game (prior to actually becoming boyfriend/girlfriend) and your (then) favorite team was playing against one of their longtime rivals. joe's jaw was on the floor the entire game because of how you were screaming at the tv, jumping onto your feet at every bullshit flag & call, and so locked in on everything that was going on 

your keenness towards football made your relationship even more exciting. you'd get to watch your boyfriend do what he loved, which happened to be one of your favorite things in the world

seeing you in his suite every week gave him an extra boost. he knew you were watching him and he wanted to make you proud & happy at all times 

he also loved to see your game-day outfits. seeing his name, his number, his colors all around your body did some unspeakable things to him. sometimes he wondered how fast it would take for anyone to notice he was missing. the storage closet seemed like the prime quickie spot on game days ;) 

you had a routine before kickoff too. you'd go down to the sidelines before the start of the game to give joe a little pep-talk and it always ended with a passionate kiss and little handshake you two made up on your first date (a sort of good luck manifestation tactic). at the end of the game, win or loss, you'd be waiting in the tunnel to give him his post-game kiss and a singular rose (as you know, he loves getting flowers)

the orange rose you gave him after the 2021 AFC championship game (the super-bowl sending game) sits in his office. he got it pressed and plated by a professional, a way to preserve the special memory that the flower held 

the love you two shared was truly something that only came around once every few lifetimes. it was so special, so rare, so exciting 

“every time I look at you, I feel like I’m falling in love all over again. the way you laugh, the way you move, even the way you think—it’s all so beautiful to me. i could spend the rest of my life just watching you be yourself and never get tired of it. i can’t stop thinking about you. you’re always on my mind, like a song stuck on repeat. every time I’m with you, it feels like the world fades away, and all I can see, hear, and feel is you. i’m completely mesmerized with everything about you," he said to you

--The End--

[princelythirsts]

I have a couple recommendations but I want to say I can relate, I tend to gravitate towards more dark / morally grey f/o’s bc I feel like the more light hearted ones wouldn’t really get it. Still, if anyone wants to ship with a less dark character they can, whenever.

that said… my two recommendations are from my own f/o list at some point (I’m cool with sharing) - off the top of my head, my first thoughts were Silco from Arcane

an imposing crime lord who’s ruthless with his enemies - and anyone on his side that steps out of line - but also capable of being soft and loving with people he sees as family, like his adoptive daughter Jinx. he’s very traumatized from a betrayal in his life, and latches onto people he feels have had similar experiences of loss.

second character I recommend - Eddie Gluskin from Outlast: Whistleblower

also deeply traumatized, but gets attached quickly. a bit of a yandere. he’s obsessed with finding the perfect wife* and having the perfect 1950s sitcom life, no matter who he has to kidnap or kill to get it. he’s very violent and idk your limits when it comes to intense / dark subject matter (so if you want more info on Outlast etc let me know). still, he desperately desires a loving spouse and to start a family of his own to make up for the lack of security and safety he had in his own childhood.

*he has a heteronormative idea of romance in canon but I’ve seen him attract thirsty fans of every gender / sexuality etc.

I can check my longer f/o list for more if you want… I tend to like characters who have Seen Shit (ie traumatized) and Done Shit (committed some crimes) and also can be very affectionate, or need some love themselves.

I might have some younger ones but I think it’s mostly like middle aged villains on my f/o list lol.

… actually just talk to me more if you want other recommendations, much of my f/o list is like this but I’m not sure your preferences. like do you want more tragic or more overtly evil characters? young or old? do you want female characters recommended as well? etc

Self-ship struggles

tw: mention of blood and violence and murder.

One of the things I've always struggled with with self-shipping is, I crave to be comforted. My life has been hard. I want to be cuddled, kissed, to be given head-pats and unconditional love, but at the same I have this darker side (probably born from trauma) that loves fictional violence, murder, and gore and I cannot ignore that. I feel like this juxtaposition of needs and kinks can't be reconciled with any of my f/os. 💔

My villain f/os would never give me the soft comfort I need, but I'm too dark for softer f/os to completely accept. *sighs* I need a guy that can do both, and I haven't found them.

Anyone have suggestions or f/o recommendations?

[absolutelynotsanebaby]

I've had this one-shot in my docs for a while, I decided to post it here. It's villain au, specifically a moment in Cole's time in the temple with Yang. You can find more info on this au here. The tag for this au is 'villains.au'.

CW: graphic violence, abuse, blood (in the form of ectoplasma), eye injury.

Fic is under cut:

The door to the bunks slams shut with a deafening bang. 

Cole stares at it from down the hall. Behind him, Lloyd and Nya are crowding but also hiding in a way. They don’t move past his shoulders. Distantly, Cole wonders where Zane is before coming to the conclusion that he’s in the Bridge, staring at a wall or—or something. 

“What’s his problem,” Lloyd hisses, voice suspiciously wet. Cole looks down at him and finds Lloyd’s eyes shining and lip curled up in a scowl, clearly hiding a hurt expression. His cheeks are all red and Cole finds his hand is reaching out to rest on Lloyd’s head.

For a moment Lloyd looks conflicted, face going through a series of expressions—confusion, anger, sadness and then it’s all wiped away. He leans into the touch anyways, though without looking Cole in the eyes.

Cole runs his fingers through his hair softly, thumbling along Lloyd’s forehead. It seems to calm Lloyd some, his shoulders slumping a bit. He looks up at Cole with tired eyes, bags under them, and glances at the bunks.

“Just go sit down, alright?” Cole says, “I’ll talk to Jay.”

Lloyd is quiet for a moment before nodding and walking off.

Not before he mutters ‘what an asshole’ under his breath. Cole almost wants to snort. 

Of course, Nya doesn’t budge.

“Nya—” he starts but she interrupts, hands flying out in an angry motion. 

“No! You can’t—can’t tell me to go sit down!” she yells, her face is all screwed up. She tries to move forward but Cole steps in front of her. She glowers at him.

“I wasn’t going to say that, just…just let me handle him alright?” he explains, hands in a placating manner. 

“I can handle him.”

“I know.”

“He needs to get his head out of his ass,” she says quietly but with a viciousness, “he’s not the...the only one who’s hurt right now. Kai left all of us but he—he’s so—” she breaks off into an angry, growly sound.

“Trust me, I know. It’s just—Nya, he cares about you so much. I don’t want him to say anything to you that the—the both of you would regret, y’know?” Cole says, reaching out to gently squeeze her shoulders.

“I don’t love him.” she says back.

“I didn’t say that,” Cole squeezes again. Nya huffs.

“Yeah, yeah you didn’t,” she mumbles, “don’t you worry about it? What he’d say to you?”

“Nah, I got tough skin,” he grins and then hurries to continue before she gets mad, “not that you don’t! I’m just used to Jay, he’s my best friend and all.”

Nya raises an eyebrow, her expression is still pulled taunt and face flushed miserably but it’s—something. “Best friend, right, right, sure.”

She turns around, shrugging out of hands and begins to walk away.

“Hey now, I don’t like you’re implying there.”

Nya throws her hands up in a shrugging motion and turns the corner, exiting Cole’s line of sight.

He lets his shoulders slump. A weary, shaky sigh leaves him, expelling…some sort of feeling into the air. He waves it away. He brings his hand up to his face and just—rubs it. Presses into the crease between his eyebrows with an exhausted sort of energy.

Then he takes a deep breath and squares out his shoulders again. He glances at the bunk door and for good measure, takes another breath. He doesn’t really need to breathe but it makes Cole feel better. More steady.

He walks down the hall, his feet making no sound and grabs the doorknob. He goes still for a moment before turning it and opening the door. The room is dark and cold, they haven’t spent too much time in it as of late. It feels like too much of a reminder, he guesses. Kai’s bed is always empty.

Jay is curled up on—Cole’s bed actually. Cole’s eyes go soft. Jay is laying on his side, knees up to his chest and arms haphazardly thrown in between. Cole can’t see his face, it's covered up by the dark and also Jay’s stupid, curly bangs.

“Is there a reason you’re in my bed?” Cole asks.

Jay takes a moment to answer, “...it’s bigger.”

“It’s not,” Cole says as he sits down. The bed creaks a bit under his weight.

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Cole is trying to gather his words but he can’t seem to find them. His tongue is all heavy. He doesn’t know…how to help really. Ever since Kai left there’s been an open wound in the team. He’s done his best but he has the equivalent of duct tape and a dream when what he needs is cement.

Jay’s foot brushes against Cole’s arm. For a second, he thinks it’s an accident but then it happens again. Cole reaches out to brush his fingertips along Jay’s ankle. He’s got a little scar there, he realizes. Just a small nick on the back of his heel. Jay twitches a bit and Cole smiles faintly. He’s always been ticklish.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Cole asks quietly, letting the words reverberate into this quiet, vibrating silence they’ve made.

“No,” Jay says back, muffled, “what’s there to talk about.”

“Oh,” Cole’s voice goes deep and soft, “I don’t know, maybe why you’ve been so angry at everyone?”

“I’m not angry.”

“You were just yelling at Lloyd,” Cole recalls, resting his hand on Jay’s ankle, “what’d Lloyd do to you?”

“He—he…” Jay trails off, “...nothing.”

Cole hums, “you can’t keep doing that Jay, they’re getting mad.”

“I’m not,” Cole says.

Jay scoffs, bitter and resentful, “yeah, well, who isn’t mad at me?”

“Shouldn’t you be?”

“I think I got all my ‘mad-at-Jay’ out of my system already,” Cole says, “I don’t know if you remember but we kinda fought. A lot.”

Jay scoffs again but it sounds just a little bit more like a laugh.

Cole squeeze’s his ankle, “come on, Bluebell. Talk to me, it’s what I’m here for.”

Jay goes quiet and Cole resigns himself to waiting again. After a few minutes, Jay finally sits up, he does so slowly, pushing on his arms. Then he flops into a slouched over criss-cross position. He’s still not looking Cole in the eyes but he’ll take what he can.

Jay’s hands begin to mindlessly draw out patterns in the bed sheet. It's an anxious tic, Cole has noticed. He does it when he doesn’t know what to say.

That’s okay, he can start, “Jay, I know you’re mad but what happened with Kai isn’t your faul—”

“It’s not that!” Jay interrupts, then he deflates a little more, “Okay, maybe it’s a little that.”

“Jay–”

“But it’s just—just…how could he just leave like that?” Jay says. Cole’s been thinking the same thing, logically he knows it was that—damned staff. Twisted Kai’s mind. Kai loves them, he has to have faith in that, it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt though. “I can’t be him.”

Jay continues, gesturing desperately like he really wants Cole to understand, “I’m not—good at what he does. The on the spot plans and—and Nya. Lloyd. Hell, I don’t even know how you’re so good with them.”

“Listen, I get it dude. I’m out of my depth too,” he says, squeezing Jay’s knee, “but we just have to hang on.”

“So…” Cole starts, “you’re lashing out at them because you’re…not sure how to help?”

“I—I mean, when you put it like that,” Jay mumbles. Cole pats his knee.

“How long will we have to hang on?” Jay says miserably.

“I…I don’t know, Jay,” Cole says quietly. Jay sighs and then tips sideways onto his shoulder. He rests his head there, staring out forward. Cole slips an arm around his back. Jay leans into it. 

“I’m sorry,” Jay mutters, his voice is shaky, “for being mean. I really am trying but—but I’m probably going to be mean again.” Cole rubs his back.

“I know,” he says back, “but it’s alright, I’ll be there to rein you in.”

“That’s not your job,” Jay turns his head to bury his face into Cole’s shoulder.

“Sure it is.”

Jay goes quiet for a minute or so. He’s all wiry, all bony and thin muscles. Cole wouldn’t call him anything like small or delicate, Cole’s seen him take way too many hits that have sent him into a wall before and his shoulders are too broad but he feels so small sometimes.

Jay shifts, “I miss how warm you were.”

Cole’s hand pauses on his back before continuing to rub. He looks down at his hands, trying to swallow everything down.

“Yeah I—uh,” he takes a very quiet breath, “me too, buddy.”

“It’s not fair, y’know? You and Kai were always so warm but Kai’s gone and now you’re a ghost,” Jay mumbles,”’s not fair.”

“I know,” Cole closes his eyes, “I know.”

Jay opens his mouth to reply but the only thing that comes out of it is the sound of wood smashing against the floor.

Cole startles awake, stumbles and dragging himself away from where he thinks the impact came from. His eyes can’t focus and he’s—he’s still half asleep. He tries to sit up fully but the end of a staff stabs him dead center in the chest and slams him into the ground. His head bounces against the floor and he lets out a pained, shocked noise. 

“Cole, don’t you think it’s time to wake up?”

A staff member hit him in the face, shoving his head to the side. 

“A–Ah–!”

“Get up.”

Cole stumbles up finally, frantically backing away. His eyes—eye finally focus enough to be able to see what’s going on. Yang is standing in front of him, staff clenched in his hand and looking down on him with a vitriol. Cole breathes heavily. His—his eye hurts. It’s not fair that the one type of person who can hurt him without water—another ghost—is the one he’s trapped with.

“Yang,” he whispers. He covers his eye and yanks it back when it comes away—wet? No—No, not wet, just…slimy. His hand is bright green, it sort of looks like blood.

“Ectoplasma,” Yang comments. 

“Ecto—ectoplasma?” he stutters back, his hands shake.

“It’s how a ghost bleeds, child,” Yang says.

Cole backs away but Yang starts to advance. A ghost's steps are supposed to be—quiet, unheard but Yang’s are loud and heavy. Like a beat to a drum that hurts Cole’s ears. 

“Y–Yang,” he stutters, “Yang! Stop!” 

His voice is raw and shakes, his hands twitch out in front of him. He can fight, he’s trained to fight but he’s so—so scared—

“Stop!”

Yang strikes out and Cole screams, ducking lower and stumbling back under the staff that flies over where his head was. He can’t breathe—he can’t think! His feet are tripping over themselves. Yang slams his staff into Cole’s side, sending him sprawling onto the floor.

Cole chokes and grabs at his sides. He screams again when Yang’s staff slams into the ground besides his head. He pushes himself back by his feet, clutching at his side and eye bleeding. He throws his arm up just in time to block another hit to the face. Still it catches his chin and sends a shock wave of pain down his arm.

“Sloppy, weak,” Yang spits, “scared.”

“Yang—” Cole sobs. 

“Did you forget everything Wu taught you?” Yang says, spinning his staff and Cole flinches, sobbing, “or did he not teach you anything at all?”

“Why—why’re you—why’re you do–doing—” Cole’s voice cracks and he flinches again when Yang lifts his staff. He covers his face.

He tries to think—how to stop Yang and punch him in the face and so many other things but he can’t think. His brain’s all muddled up and his eyes bleeding and—and—

He sobs, voice cracking and hitching, crying without any tears. Yang steps forward, until his shadow covers Cole. He forces the end of his staff under Cole’s chin and forces his head to tilt up. He stares Cole dead in his eyes. 

“You need to be trained,” he says lowly.

“I’m not your student!” Cole yells back.

Yang lifts his staff again and Cole—Cole kicks his knees in. Yang flies back with a shout, slamming into the wall. He groans and Cole stumbles up, running away. He runs down the hall, turning the corners so fast he nearly slips. After a moment, he can hear Yang start to follow him.

Cole makes it to the stairs and stumbles up them. Yang catches up and grabs the collar of his shirt. Cole yells, throwing the both of them into the wall, pin–balling between them until Yang lets go with a grunt and a battered body. The walls creak but Cole flies up the stairs. Once he gets to the top, he turns around and kicks Yang down.

Then he continues to run. He’s on the second floor so now he just needs—needs to find somewhere to hide. He turns the corner and finds a series of doors, he freezes, panicking before he hears the sound of Yang stumbling up the stairs.

“F–Fuck,” he sobs and runs to one of the door—he doens’t even know which, just one of them and throws the door open. He runs inside and slams the door shut, his fingers are shaking badly but he manages to lock it. He looks around frantically.

He’s in a—closet? There’s a couple of dusty boxes and chests and Cole hits his knees. He shoves them in front of the door, leaving one behind. He curls behind it, shoving his face between his knees. 

He hears Yang start walking down the hall, his staff tapping ominously. Cole shutters, heaving a breath and struggling to muffle his cries. He slams his hands over his ears but it doesn't drown out the tapping.

He shakily extends his fingers to feel around his eye and flinches when they make contact. It’s—puffy and sticky with ectoplasma. He needs a mirror or something. His hand pats around where he’s curled up blindly. He jolts when he feels something. He runs his fingers over it and its—glass?

He grabs and brings to his face. It’s a glass shard, about as long as his hand and half as wide. The edges are sharp but it shouldn’t hurt him.

He positions it over his eye and sucks in a breath. It’s all swollen, puffed up and bright green. The skin around it is completely black. Ectoplasma is leaking—no longer dripping—out of the socket. Cole bites back a sob and lightly probs it, trying not to flinch.

It—it should heal. 

He hopes so, anyways.

Yang slams his staff into the floor outside his door.

“Cole!” he yells, loud and angry, “come out!”

Cole swallows a sob and presses his hands harder over his ears.

“Cole!”

“Stop—stop,” he whispers wetly, biting onto his knuckles to muffle himself. He curls into a tight, painful ball.

“Cole!” Yang screams, voice ragged and vicious, “this is childish! Come out!” 

“Jay—” Cole sobs.

It takes a long time for the tapping of Yang’s staff to fade away. Cole remains curled up behind the box. 

“They’ll come for me…they’ll come for me…” Cole mumbles into his knees.

“I just have to…wait…”

Jay shoves him down and lays directly onto his chest. He shoves his head under Cole’s chin.

“Oh-ho, sleepy?”

“Just shut up and sleep.”

[plor-bindery]

Bound: Truth to Materials

It’s done!

I have a colour printer now. Can you tell? Lol.

This is, of course, a bind of my own co-authored fic with lately, who is not on Tumblr much/at all, and not under that name. (Apparently I continue to have the idea that I must try out new techniques on my own work first?)

The fic features artist Draco, so I went with that theme for the book design. I also used Canva for the first time, which was a mix of frustration (“whyyyy doesn’t it do this thing Illustrator does???”) and joy (so! much! stock! art!!!) I actually wound up banging the cover doc back into Illustrator because I didn’t trust the lack of guides and dimensions for measuring the cover, but the export was fairly seamless, so that was fine.

Back cover blurbs feat. @moonflower-rose because their comment made me lol so much when I went digging for gold in the comments. Also @thehoneybeet! (I feel weird putting my own reviews on the cover but I’m pretending they’re all directed at lately.)

More blathering under the cut.

For the wrap cover: glossy legal photo paper laminated in a matte legal 3mil pouch — two covers back to back so only the front gets laminated. I actually tried this first on plain paper but the ink bled in spots from the glue moisture and the whole thing delaminated as the glue struck through. I think the glossy coating provides a better barrier between ink and glue. I also used straight PVA on the second go, reasoning that it carries less water. Seemed to work?

Ran into some troubles with hinges delaminating, though, I think more from flexing and the bone folder than moisture? I can see why the IG Dramione binding girlies use the soft touch laminate — less than half the thickness. I haven’t bought any yet though, not sure I am that keen?

The endpapers are foiled but I was annoyed with the folding obscuring the words — might have to be more cautious with that in future.

All the chapter headers are artworks pulled from the bestmuseumbum hashtag on the bird site. It was very fun finding them. (This fic started with a Louvre visit in which lately and I very maturely admired many sculpted arses so there’s a theme.)

Endbands are sewn with embroidery floss and they came out sooo shiny and neat. One strand of floss per wrap is the way to go, even though it’s slow and fine work.

The rest of the bind is unremarkable — legal quarto, sewn French links, bradel-style case.

The cover came out quite 90s which I kind of love. As I’ve said before, and at risk of dating both of us, co-author lately and I met in our young teens, and that was…in the 90s. The earlier part. So a 90s vibe cover for the first fic we managed to co-write since that time? Perfect. Saved by the Bell goodness.

So… cover wraps… I am not sure! I think it’s probably cheaper than even homemade book cloth, but I imagine the archival quality is not great with all the plastic involved. But then same with HTV. I will almost certainly do it again, especially if I want to do something like a book that’s disguised as a textbook or magazine. While I love the artwork available in Canva, I definitely felt like my own creativity was less present? Hard to describe.

One little technical problem that I’m solving: endpapers didn’t stick to the hinge insides fully, not sure if the wrapped spine is too wide or it’s a lamination not liking glue thing or… but the problem is minor. Something to troubleshoot next time.

[dadsbongos]

Hi!!! Hope you’re doing well - I just want to take a moment to gush before I ask something, because I’ve really enjoyed your blog since finding it:

1: your writing is SO good I’ve reread your dunmesh fics several times now & just eat them up every reread. I’m stoked you also have funger content & can’t wait to eat those up

2: your blog’s aesthetic is just 🤌🤌 chefs kiss

3: your chilchuck’s wife fic - I’m convinced you are the chilchuck expert you characterized him so well (& the bit in the 3some fic when he choked the reader ? gulp)

OKAY on the with the actual question: I was wondering if you have any chil thoughts for the chilfuckers? Maybe some sfw / nsfw?

thank youuu :] i'm so glad to provide for the dungeon community with both meshi and funger <3 and also extra glad to make the chilchuck people proud, he's my fav lil man

i have so many chilthoughts bc i am a verified chilfucker i need that middle aged man

nsfw chilthoughts 

MEAN mean man

Likes to make his partners huff and whine, especially if they start haughty or mouthy

Facefucking, especially, for the mouthy ones. Wants to shut you up and make you drool

Lately the thought of Chilchuck fist-fucking a bigger race has been making me sweat… like yeah lil man, get up in that thang… I need to write it. Maybe some dwarven wench who keeps mocking Chil, or an ogre that feels its appropriate to pick n lift him up while working

Schrodinger’s breeder kink - sometimes its all he’s thinking about and sometimes the thought is entirely uninteresting

Touched on it a BIT in my body swap fic but i think Chil has a really sensitive neck and likes being held there (maybe not choked, but grabbed and stroked for sure)

Has a secret goon for younger partners but doesn’t like admitting to it, the taboo of it makes him all hot especially since he knows most other races can’t tell. Like a VERY poorly kept secret that could ruin his distinguished reputation

i also have chilchuck fic ideas that i haven’t fleshed out, but thought it’d be a shame if they sat in my ‘puter unseen:

Idea 1: Reader is a young elf, only about 72, and against all odds began dating Chilchuck. On his 30th birthday, it's brought to attention that you’ll be in your 90s when he dies. Leading to a spiral wherein you’re just trying to live in blissful ignorance to your races’ lifespan difference, and Chilchuck assumes you’re mature enough to handle his death, move on, and remember him fondly… lol… anyway. When Chilchuck dies you study how to maintain your own mana without a dungeon and practice minor healing spells until you can do a full revival, which fails on Chil, so you have to turn to dark magic. Basically rewinding his life until he’s the same age as when you two met and he’s upset you brought him back because YOU could get in major trouble and that’s when you confess you didn’t tell anyone when he died bc you knew you’d bring him back -- and you’re a nutcase that keeps doing this every time he dies despite knowing he wants to die peacefully. Omg loving someone so much you need them at all costs even ruining their perception of you… 

Idea 2: Chilchuck helping a 20-ish(+?) y/o half-foot negotiate a contract for themself and he thinks they’re soooooo cute so they get together, and he’s kinda nervous to bring them around cuz you’re crazy young compared to him. Not even a child to speak of GASP. The party doesn’t notice at ALL cuz they have no idea about anything about half-foot aging and customs -- but his daughters look at him sideways lmao

and this is literally not even a full fic idea but i have a note from my chilchuck master doc for you lol

im so normal about him

[ash5monster01]

Could you pretty please do Marty Mcfly x reader? One where they're friends and they're hanging out in the Doc's garage and marty is showing her everything and idk where to go from there.

I'm so glad you write for him. I feel like he gets no attention!

Thank you!

All of You

Pairing: Marty McFly x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, unreciprocated feelings, self doubt, cheesy lovesick teenagers, soft intimacy. 

Summary: When your lifelong friend and short time crush invites you to spend an evening in Doc’s garage, you don’t expect the outcome it actually brings. 

word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

When you had agreed to join Marty during practice tonight, that is what you had expected him to do. Especially since he was dead set on landing the school dance gig. Yet the second you walk through the doors of Doc's garage that entire plan is thrown to the wind. Marty takes one look at your curious eyes and next you know he's showing you everything the large garage witheld. Every trinket, experiment, odd and end. It started with the clocks, him explaining Doc’s incessant need to collect so many. Then it spiraled from there, a prideful look on his face as he explained all the mystical things the garage held. 

“You know, I’d think you’d be more into science then you actually are based on how much you know about this stuff” you tell him while he’s showing you a particularly weird trinket, not even beginning to understand what it does or at least what Doc says it does. 

“I don’t know, I find it interesting, but science has never really come to me. Not like it does for Doc” Marty shrugs, hands reaching to set down one of Doc’s inventions. You knew he really cared for his relationship with the older man, most likely because he wasn’t all that close with his father. 

“I don’t think you’re giving yourself the benefit of the doubt. You’re smart Marty, I’ve known that my whole life” you tell him, hand reaching to squeeze his shoulder and you miss the way he tenses at your touch. The longing in his eyes as he lets the compliment settle into his bloodstream. 

“Don’t you hear Mr. Strickland? You’re a slacker Marty” the boy mocks the teachers voice, flopping onto the couch and closing his eyes. You sigh and move closer to him, taking a seat in the spot beside him before setting a comforting hand on his thigh. 

“You’re not a slacker Marty, in fact you’re one of the most dedicated guys I know. You need to stop being so hard on yourself” you say a touch annoyed. It was exhausting how often you had to remind the boy how amazing he was. His attitude was a direct response from years of watching his Dad think he wasn’t good enough. To you he was one of the most caring and genuine people you knew. 

“I know, but why should I if you’ve got all the confidence I need” he says, a teasing tone and smirk on his face. You roll your eyes and give him a slight shove, trying not to smile when he laughs loudly at the action. 

“It’s exhausting carrying around mine and you’re own confidence. Besides, you need yours to land this band gig. Which brings me to my next point which is you haven’t even attempted to practice yet” you tell him, a pointed but unserious look on your face. If you were being honest he didn’t really need the practice. He was already amazing at what he did. Sometimes he got carried away but that was rock n’ roll, it’s how to was supposed to be. 

“I don’t want to practice. I just want to sit here with you” and he instantly blushes at how whiny and needy he sounds, especially towards his own best friend. You don’t even notice though, trying to mask your own heart stuttering in your chest at the sentiment. 

“If that’s all you want, who am I to complain” you say before readjusting and leaning into him. You try not to focus on how warm he is or the way your palms begin to sweat from nervousness. This was Marty after all, you’re eldest friend and the one person in the world you should be the most comfortable with. Yet the thing about crushes is you couldn’t control the things they will do to you. No matter who it’s on. 

Marty doesn’t expect the closeness but allows it anyway, lifting his arm so you can tuck up underneath his side, lowering it around you the second you’re comfortable. He prays you can’t feel his heart racing in his chest, the way you settle against him so naturally, it made him wish you were his. The one person in this world to love and to keep. Not be held back from kissing you or telling you how he feels every time he fears he will lose you as a friend. 

“You ever wonder what it would be like to be more than friends?” You blurt out, a mix of confidence and desperation causing you to ask the blunt question. Maybe it was easier because he couldn’t see your face. Or maybe it was the annoyance over how you could be so close to him like this and not gain anything from it. You were tired of tip toeing around the fact that he was the one person in this world you truly loved and couldn’t do a damn thing about it. 

“What?” Marty asks, a bit shocked and thrown off guard and you can’t help the way you stiffen beside him. 

“It’s just, we spend so much time together and I’ve never been uncomfortable. It just seems weird that two people who know each other so intimately haven’t been, well, intimate” you blush a deep red, even the tips of your ears fading into a soft pink, thankful he still couldn’t see your face head on. Yet you thought to soon because Martys hand is grasping your chin, turning to look him in the eye where you can see his own face is a soft shade of pink as well. 

“I’m not really sure what to say” and suddenly you’re embarrassed, that confidence long gone as you begin to shake your head, and fight of the burning feeling at the back of your eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I’m being stupid, I shouldn’t of said anything” you start to move away from him, feeling like an idiot and ashamed you would even bring it up. Yet his hand on your arm stops you, your eyes glancing at his grip and then up to meet his own, a desperation and something else entirely bubbling underneath the surface. 

“It’s not stupid, in fact I think about it all the time myself if I’m being honest” he admits sheepishly, eye glancing anywhere but your own and you swear your heart freezes in your chest. Trying to understand what this could really truly mean and if it would mean what you hope it does. 

“Really? And it doesn’t weird you out?” You ask and the boy snorts, trying not to laugh too loudly because you had amused him with such a silly question. 

“Why would it weird me out? Just because I’m your friend doesn’t mean I don’t notice how gorgeous you are. In fact it’s kinda hard not to notice especially since your my favorite person in this world” he says like it’s the most obvious thing and now you’re sure your entire body is fire truck red because the boy you loved just called you gorgeous. 

“Yeah well if you weren’t so damn cute all the time neither of us would be in this predicament” you agree and finally Marty smiles because he knows you. He knows this is your way of joking about your feelings to soften the blow if it doesn’t go your way. That if right now he said he didn’t want you it could be a cushion to protect you from the punch. 

“Hey, I like you more than friends. I never had to wonder because it’s how I always look at you” and you gulp nervously, not expecting the forthcoming honesty, considering this whole conversation had been you both tip toeing around each other. 

“Really?” You ask, voice slightly shaky and mostly hopeful and Marty smiles, pulling you close. When he doesn’t provide an answer you feel the panic begin to swell but then suddenly his nose is nudging against your own, hot breath fanning across you lips, and just like that you’re puddy in the boys hands. His answer comes when his lips press softly against your own, not to desperate but just enough to get the point ocross. It takes a moment to even process what was happening, how you were locking lips with your best friend, but when reality sets in you can’t help how desperately you kiss him back. Needing to feel closer to him in this moment than you ever have. After was feels like hours he finally pulls away, pecking one soft kiss into your lips before his eyes focus into your own.

“Believe me now?” He says, oozing the confidence you had tried to pull out of him when you had first gotten here and you can’t help the way you giggle as you hug him close.

“Yeah, I believe you” 

[noforkingclue]

Hi! Could you write a first kiss with Twelve ? Cute and fluffy. I love your work!!!

Note: requests are currently closed

Aww, thank you so much anon! I hope you like the fic :)

Title: Kisses

You laughed as you and the Doctor burst through the TARDIS doors. You slumped against the wood as the Doctor ran around the TARDIS console. Seeing him run like this, with that much excitement, made you forget just how old he really was. How small you humans must seem to him.

“There,” his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, “we’re safe.”

“You sure about that Doc?”

“Have I ever lied to you before?” the Doctor made his way over to you, “and what have I said about calling me ‘Doc’?”

“You know you love it really.”

He stopped directly in front of you and looked down at you. He raised his eyebrows at you and you held out your hand.

“Are you serious?” he asked

“Yes.”

“What,” he leant down slightly, “are you incapable of lifting yourself off the floor.”

“I’m asking for help,” you said, “I thought you liked helping people.”

The Doctor gave you a pointed look before shaking his head.

“I do,” he said, “but you are fully capable of doing this yourself.”

“But Doc-”

“Don’t whine,” he said sternly, “and don’t pout.”

“I’m not pouting.”

“Yes you are.”

Of course the Doctor couldn’t tell you the real reason he wouldn’t (or couldn’t) help you. To touch you, to pull you up and inevitably against him, to have you so close to him. Well, he might do something regrettable. You smiled up at him and wiggled your fingers. Damn it, maybe this time-

You let out a yelp as the TARDIS doors were flung open. You fell backwards and looked up into the confused face of Nardole. Damn it again. The Doctor hadn’t even realised you had landed. Nardole glanced between you and the Doctor before saying in amusement,

“I didn’t interrupt anything did I?”

“No,” you said, pushing yourself to your knees, “No. Just the Doctor refusing to help.”

“Refusing to help. Now that is surprising.”

You shrugged and finally got to your feet and left the TARDIS. Nardole walked further into the TARDIS as the Doctor rested against the TARDIS.

“Shut up.” the Doctor said

“I wasn’t going to say anything, sir.”

“You were. You had that annoying look on your face.”

“It’s just my face, sir.”

“Exactly.”

Nardole watched for a second longer as the Doctor continued to fuss about the console.

“I bet you want the human to call you sir.”

“What did I tell you about shutting up.”

*

It had been almost a week until he saw you again. Bill said that you had some coursework due and needed to concentrate. Secretly the Doctor was relieved. He still had the image of you on your knees in front of him and he didn’t want to face you while he still thought of you like that.

You deserved better.

“Anyone home?”

You knocked on the TARDIS door but she let you in anyway. The Doctor glared at the machine but she just twinkled her lights back at him. Even she was betraying him.

“So,” you said slowly as you walked towards him, “sorry I haven’t been around. I had-”

“Coursework,” the Doctor interrupted, “Bill told him.” he added quickly

“Yes,” you shut the door behind you, “I did ask her to pass on the message but you know what she’s like.”

An unusually awkward silence fell between the two. Even in the limitless space of the TARDIS the Doctor suddenly felt claustrophobic.

“So,” you said again, “about last week.”

“Last week?”

You were by his side now. The Doctor could practically feel your body heat and the smell of your perfume was dominating his senses. You nudged him playfully and he finally looked down at you. You smiled up at him and opened your mouth but the Doctor was quicker.

In a flash he was cupping your face and had pressed his lips against yours. You let out a squeak of surprise, a sound which was muffled by his lips. You put your hands on his shoulders and for a moment the Doctor thought you were going to push him away. However, your hands curled against his jacket and pulled him towards you. You broke the kiss far too soon for his liking but the Doctor also knew that humans had a greater need for air.

“Well,” you said, licking your lips, “that took far too long. I didn’t think I was exactly being subtle last week.”

“Subtle?” it hit the Doctor, “you were… flirting with me?”

“Bill’s idea,” you rested your head against his chest, “but I’m not exactly the most flirtatious person in the world.”

“Now then, I definitely think I’m interrupting something.”

You and the Doctor looked over at Nardole. He glanced between you and slowly backed out of the TARDIS.

“I’ll leave you to your,” he waved a hand, “thing.”

“How long before he’ll tell Bill?” you muttered as he left

“Almost immediately.” replied the Doctor

“And no chance of us telling her before him?”

“No chance.”

“That’s what I thought.”

[workingforitallthetime]

I am BEGGING you to say more about Will and Mack in silence on the other side!! on my KNEES!

conveniently, i have 3.5K of will/mack that i could not resist expelling from my brain at the end of the google doc. grab a marshmallow stick and let me tell you a campfire story.

(this is very much an epilogue and is not going to make sense unless you've read silence on the other side. if you want the reward of mack/will you have to suffer through the mortifying ordeal of will/gabe/leno.)

Will could wait for Gabe to ask, but she’s done letting things happen to her. She packs a suitcase. She sits on the couch and waits. When she hears the sound of Gabe’s key in the door, she slips off her ring and clenches her fingers around it. The diamond digs into her palm as she rehearses the words in her head. I can’t get married. I’m sorry.

She texts her sister on the way to the airport, after the angry red dent fades. The pale strip around her ring finger is going to take longer, just like the mark on her neck. Can I stay with you for a couple of days?

Of course. Grace answers quick. Are you in Boston? Is everything ok?

Will’s not going to cry in the back of an Uber. Flight gets in at 10:30. And no. 

As the plane pulls away from the gate, she texts Ryan. I’m moving back to Boston. She should switch into airplane mode. Instead, she waits as they taxi.

The reply comes as the plane rounds the turn onto the runway, bright rows of lights blazing the path ahead. Didn’t know you were from Boston.

Will’s swiping her thumb over the text thread to delete it when one last message pops up. Thought it was West Philadelphia. She snorts in spite of herself, and lowers her thumb onto the red trash can before she can second-guess it. She’s not going to cry on a plane, either.

The night air when she emerges from the sliding doors at arrivals is still late-summer muggy. Grace picks her up at the airport, and Will gives her the briefest version. I told Gabe we’re not getting married. No, it wasn’t a mutual decision. No, I don’t know what it’s going to cost. No, I haven’t told mom and dad yet, I’ll do it tomorrow. No, don’t say anything in the bridesmaid group chat, I’ll do it tomorrow. 

The wheels of her suitcase are gritty on the floor of Grace’s apartment. She changes into pajama pants and an old St. Catherine’s t-shirt. She drinks a glass of water and racks the glass in Grace’s dishwasher. She sinks onto the couch, tipping her head back on top of the cushions.

“Oh my god.” Grace stops short at the edge of the room, peering at Will over the armload of bedding she’s bearing. “Did you break up with Gabe because he’s a vampire?”

Will touches the mark on her neck. It doesn’t feel like anything. If she hadn’t seen it in the mirror, she wouldn’t know it was there. “Wasn’t Gabe.”

Grace’s eyes bug out. I don’t want to talk about it, Will says, it’s not a thing. It’s not, like, the reason. It’s just something that happened. She takes the sheets from Grace and shakes them out and tucks herself into the couch. The streetlights outside cast thin stripes through the blinds and across the floor. She’s not going to cry into Grace’s fleece Patriots blanket.

The feeling in her stomach, hollow and sick, that settled in while she waited for Gabe to come home hasn’t gone away. It won’t go away for many days yet. Terrible days. Days of overhearing her mother on the phone apologizing to relatives about their nonrefundable flights. Days of trying to cancel wedding registries before she gets any more notifications about purchased gifts. Days of ignoring the voice messages from her parish priest, the one who was supposed to officiate. The absolute last person Will wants to talk to is a priest.

She goes back to the Midwest, feeling like a burglar in her own apartment as she packs up her things while Gabe is pointedly not home, driving her car along ugly interstates back to Massachusetts with her dad. Somewhere in Pennsylvania, while the road is empty in the beam of their headlights and they’re between episodes of a podcast about white collar crime, he tells her he’s proud of her. He knows it must have been a difficult decision. He trusts her to make the right choices. All Will can say past the lump in her throat is thank you. The tears trickle down the sides of her face in the dark.

She stays at her parents’ house. She writes thank-you notes that are mostly apologies. She goes to brunch with the friends who were supposed to be her bridesmaids, tells them it just didn’t feel right, I knew I’d regret it. None of them mention the cost of the bachelorette weekend last spring, but Will knows they’re all thinking it. When her mom asks, Will tells her she can pick up the dress if she wants. Will doesn’t want to see it. Every time she drives past the country club, the sick feeling in her stomach twists into a hard knot of shame.

On the September Saturday when Will was supposed to get married, Grace makes her go for a hike in New Hampshire. Golden leaves drift over the top of the low stone wall along the trail. At the top of the mountain, granite hills and colorful trees spread out below them. The lake in the valley sparkles in the autumn sunshine. They eat burgers at a roadside diner afterwards and drive back into Massachusetts after dusk, and then the day is over. It’s over, it’s done, it’s finally behind her, and now everything else is ahead.

She starts commuting into the office again. When coworkers ask, she tells them the Midwest didn’t work out. The engagement didn’t work out. After that, there aren’t any conversations about how unreliable she was last summer. She stays on top of her inbox, meets her deadlines early. Never misses a meeting. 

Boston’s not the same. Her old places are all Gabe’s old places too. Her friends are all Gabe’s friends. Most of them aren’t reaching out. Even the ones who are on her side seem confused by her. They don’t understand, because Will can’t imagine telling anyone the real story.

She thinks about going out. Thinks about getting on the apps. Trying to figure out… whatever it is she has to figure out. She can’t manage to pull the trigger. Someone could see her, recognize her.

Losing Boston, or at least the version of Boston she used to love, feels like another breakup. A separate grief just as painful as her grief for Gabe and everything their life was supposed to be. But Will ends it just as unflinchingly as she did her engagement. She finds a new job, something in finance or business or law in New York City, because that’s the place you’re supposed to go to start over.

The details of the job aren’t important. All that’s important is that it’s a job where beauty and breeding and ruthlessness are assets, and Will’s able to leverage all three to the hilt. Oh, and also it’s in an established industry where Rick Celebrini is a known and feared figure.

Will makes the connection pretty quickly when she’s introduced to her coworker Macklin. Mack is a half-step ahead of her at all times and it would be infuriating for Will, if she didn’t like him so much. Or if he didn’t like her so much. Everyone tells them they’re such a great team, hitting all their metrics, seizing opportunities, climbing the ladder together. Will sees in Mack a kind of internal steeliness that matches her own, which isn’t that surprising from someone who was raised by Rick.

Will’s kept cautious by the pervasive sense that she would fuck up anything she started with Mack. That’s what she does. She ruins things. She ruined everything with Gabe, and she’ll ruin anything she starts with another guy. And she really can’t afford to ruin anything with Rick Celebrini’s son. She’s found her niche in this industry, and getting on the wrong side of Rick would mean starting over, again.

So Will remains just as impervious as she can be. Even as she and Mack get closer and closer, and everyone in the firm starts to talk about them as a dynamic duo, and their rising stars are more and more closely linked together, she keeps everything strictly professional. Sometimes her eyes follow the lines of Mack’s three-piece suits not just to appreciate the tailoring, and as soon as she catches herself she looks the other way.

(She’s scared. Scared that nothing’s ever going to feel like it did with Ryan. Scared that nobody else is ever going to love her as much as Gabe did. She’s scared she doesn’t understand what she wants and that she’ll never figure it out. She’s scared there’s something fundamentally wrong with her and that’s why she hurts people. She’s scared that how much she likes Mack means she’s going to hurt him too. She’s scared and nobody knows it, least of all Will.)

Mack’s fascinated by her, and all the more fascinated because of the total blank of her personal life. When he tries to draw her out, he learns about growing up in Lexington, prep school and field hockey, going to BC. They talk about Boston, joke about their BC/BU rivalry, threaten to bet on the Beanpot. Will goes to office happy hours, is clever and engaging at client dinners. But she dodges all questions about what her life is like outside of work. Mack doesn’t know anything about her friends, doesn’t know whether she’s dating anybody, doesn’t even know whether she’s straight.

But Mack knows the connection’s there, and he’s going to keep trying. Picture those gifs from the 49ers game: Mack’s trying to get Will’s attention, and Will’s ignoring him, and Mack doesn’t even care. He’s willing to work for it. He wants to work for it. That’s how Rick raised him: how hard you work is the measure of how much you care.

One day Will rounds the corner by the elevators and walks into a knot of coworkers talking about some smart maneuver Mack pulled, something he talked over with Will in advance so she immediately recognizes a reference to a client or a contract term. “No dick, but he’s got plenty of balls,” says someone with their back to Will, and everyone who saw her come around the corner gets an awkward expression on their faces.

Will gives them the same look of icy disdain she uses to shut down people who call her Mack’s work wife. Someone says loudly that they’ve got a conference call starting in a few and the group hurriedly dissolves, except one office gossip who caught Will’s momentary confusion and has been simply dying for an excuse to have a conversation with her on this topic. She follows Will into the elevator. “Didn’t you know he’s trans?” she says as soon as he doors close. “It’s all very hush-hush, nobody ever says anything because Rick’s bitten a few heads off about it. I was there at an off-site when he literally yelled at someone about pronouns.”

(Just imagine Rick Celebrini when his kid announces he’s a boy. Okay, says Rick, not in so many words, if you’re a boy you’d better be the most boy you can be. What are you doing today to be a better boy? Mack’s grown up with Rick micromanaging his medical care and tailoring his punishing workouts to achieve some not entirely defined standard of masculinity and generally making Mack feel like he’s not working hard enough if he’s not at all times trying to be The Most Boy. Rick does not react kindly to anyone who suggests that Mack is anything other than his son… including and especially Mack, who is immediately reminded that he is All Boy, Only Boy if there’s ever any suggestion he might stray from Rick’s expectations of masculinity. Mack knows better than to say yes when the menswear stores he frequents suggest a pink shirt or a floral tie to go with one of those three-piece suits.)

Not that Will knows any of that. She dials the iciness a few degrees colder and hums the most neutral hmmm in her vocabulary until her coworker blessedly exits the elevator, disappointed by Will’s unsatisfying reaction.

Will lets the doors close. She punches the button for a different floor without looking at the display, aiming generally for something a long way away.

It’s just a surprise, that’s all. That’s why her heart’s racing, the unexpectedness of it. A confounding variable in the already tangled mess of Will trying to sort out her own identity. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything on the long list of reasons why she needs to keep Mack firmly in valued colleague/work best friend territory.

It’s a chink in the wall, though. And a wall that’s already being subjected to Mack’s considerable efforts, as well as geologic forces beyond Will’s control, is going to crumble eventually.

It happens at the holiday party. Some swanky venue rented out for the night, marble pillars, parquet floors. Raw seafood on ice, top-shelf drinks. Towering centerpieces with pine boughs and crystals. Will, in her classy little black dress, doesn’t have a date, of course. Neither does Mack, in his black suit with some requisite element of lowkey corporate festive. A red plaid vest, a tie with tiny holly berries on it, something like that.

They circulate through cocktail hour like the pros they are, catching glimpses of each other through the crowd, always aware of where the other one is. Somebody’s seated them at the same table for dinner (Mack might have had something to do with this) and after a couple of glasses of champagne Will forgets that she ought to be making holiday-appropriate small talk with everyone else at the table and she starts doing what she actually wants to do, which is talk to Mack. Mack, with his blue eyes and soft hair and strong fingers tapping the base of his rocks glass, making Will feel like she’s at her witty, charming best. Basically, everyone else is Tyler Toffoli on the plane and Will and Mack are in their own little world.

They sneak sideways glances at each other during the speeches and toasts, silent acknowledgement of corporate inside jokes. Will doesn’t look at Mack when Rick’s got the spotlight, but she can feel him sitting up straighter next to her, a little bit of extra rigidity in his spine.

After dessert the table groups start to dissolve and word starts to spread among Mack and Will’s coworkers, the younger crowd, about where the afterparty’s headed. Mack catches Will at the edge of a conversation and says something low into her ear, just for her. Want to go someplace else?

Will does.

Mack takes her someplace loud and anonymous, with more drinks and a crowded dance floor. Will doesn’t shrug off Mack’s hand at the small of her back. They dance, closer and closer together, and Will’s eyes are shining, and when Mack finally kisses her Will kisses back like she’s drowning. 

I’m calling a car, Mack says, and Will doesn’t let go, too much adrenaline and champagne and desperation to think about whether this is theoretically a bad idea. It’s been so long since somebody she cares about has touched her. Mack’s apartment is quiet and tasteful and Will barely sees it. She doesn’t want Mack to be something that happens to her. If this is happening, she’s going to make it happen just as much as Mack is.

If I was going to write a sex scene here it would be about how the expectations of masculinity that Rick has imposed on Mack have taken root in Mack’s assumptions about how he ought to have sex, and how that does or doesn’t align with what Mack actually wants, and how all of that collides with what Will wants, which is to eat that boy’s pussy.

Will falls asleep with her head on Mack’s chest and wakes up with the enormity of it all setting in. This is big, this is huge, and nothing that happened last night alleviated the underlying fear that she’s going to fuck it all up.

Mack can practically feel the tension radiating across the sheets at him. He reaches for Will. “I don’t want this to be a one-off.”

This does not have the desired effect of Will relaxing into him. Heart sinking, Mack tries again. “It can be if you want, though.” The pinch in Will’s brows doesn’t go away. Mack scoots back so he’s not touching her. “Just so you know, that’s really not what I want.” In the absence of a response, Mack starts desperation-yapping. “I know there’s something here, and I think you do to, and last night felt…”

Will’s eyes are huge across the gap between their pillows. She has to say something. “I’m a bad bet,” is what comes out. “I break everything.”

“Are you saying that because you want me to walk away?” Mack’s hoping that’s a quick answer, but Will looks like she’s actually thinking about it, so he keeps talking. “Do you want me to walk away?”

Very quietly, against the pillow, Will admits it. No.

Mack exhales. “Like, I’m not gonna. It’ll have to be you.”

He grins, like this is a joke, and it infuriates Will because he doesn’t understand. It’s not funny. Will’s warning him that he’s going to get hurt and he’s laughing. “That’s what I’m worried about,” Will hisses through her gritted teeth.

“That you’ll break up with me?” Mack, incredulous. “I can take it. That’s not a reason not to, like, try.” He reaches for Will again and Will lets him. “I could change my mind and dump your ass too.”

Will gives him a scornful look at the suggestion that anyone could ever break up with her, and Mack cracks up because it’s such an extremely Will reaction. “Let’s just be good, okay?” Will lets herself be pulled into his arms. “Until you break up with me, and I’ll deal with it. We can be good for now, right?”

Will whispers it against his lips before she kisses him. So good.

Eventually they get up. Will picks through Mack’s collection of sweats and ends up in a Canucks hoodie and Lulu joggers because she refuses to wear anything that has BU on it. They get coffee, and while they’re drinking it at opposite ends of Mack’s couch with their feet tangled together in the middle, Mack says I think you should tell me more about what you said earlier. About breaking everything.

Will’s silent, turning the sleeve of her coffee around and around the cup. There’s no way to avoid it. Mack’s going to have to find out sometime, if they’re going to do this. And Will really, increasingly every second, wants them to do this. “I was engaged,” she says, watching Mack. She can practically see his mouth forming questions, but he waits. “Like two years… three years ago now. My college boyfriend. Gabe. We were together for seven years. We moved to [Midwest city].”

“You lived in [Midwest city]?” Macklin’s laughing. “I can’t even picture it.”

“I know, right?” Will briefly experiences the warm glow of being known before she gets back to business. “It didn’t work. I cheated on him.” Will takes a deep breath. “Like, a lot. Her name was Ryan.”

She watches for Mack’s reaction to the pronoun, but he just nods. When Will doesn’t say anything else, Mack asks, “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know.” Will used to think about googling, but there’s no place to start. Ryan. The dive bar. The city. That’s all she knows. “It wasn’t… like that.”

“What happened to Gabe?”

“I ended it.” Will doesn’t have to google Gabe. He pops up in suggested posts, in her friends’ tags. He has a new girlfriend. They got a puppy. “It was, like, not very long before the wedding,” she adds, just so Mack knows how awful she is. “It really, really sucked.” Will puts all of the anguish of that brutal September into each really.

Mack forms his next question carefully. “Did you break up with him because he was a guy, or because he wasn’t the right guy?” 

“I don’t know.” Will lifts her chin defiantly. It’s the most vulnerable thing she’s ever said. Here’s my fucked up situation. Here’s what you’re getting into. 

“What’s that mean for me?” Mack does not relate to identity crises, having had his own identity rigorously reinforced since adolescence (or so he thinks). “Being… the guy that I am.”

“Oh, are you trans? I hadn’t noticed,” Will says, like she didn’t have her tongue in his pussy ten hours earlier.

Mack laughs, and that’s enough vulnerability for two people who don’t like it and are going to have to figure that part out later. “We should have dinner next weekend, if you don’t break up with me before then.”

If I was not inherently resistant to established relationship fic, there would be a lot to explore here. Chiefly, I’m intrigued by what happens when Rick’s singleminded focus on Mack’s masculinity (and the not-necessarily-positive ways that Mack has internalized that), collide with Will’s attraction to Mack, which is not premised on masculinity. Will’s got to figure her own shit out somewhere along the way, but she’s at least pretty sure that 100 percent masculinity is not on her list of priorities in a partner. I think that Rick is immediately welcoming to Will, to a degree that’s almost curious, and Will and Mack slowly realize that in Rick’s eyes Mack’s earned some kind of manhood badge by bringing home a hot girlfriend. Also, as ever, there’s a plot to be made out of Rick treating Will like another Celebrini child who warrants Rick’s micromanaging, and Will figuring out how to resist that without alienating Rick, and along the way prompting some realizations for Mack about the ways in which his Sheriff Rick upbringing was maybe a little bit fucked up.

Anyway. Here’s how the story would end. Mack makes it a running joke about Will breaking up with him. What do you want to do for Valentines’ Day, if you don’t break up with me before then? At first it’s jarring, and then it’s a comfort, a little reassurance that Mack still likes her enough that he’s willing to risk it all going wrong. Yeah, I could do Thanksgiving in Lexington if you’re not going to break up with me… Do you want to come to Whistler with us this year, if you haven’t dumped me by then?... I’m going to book our flight for R.J.’s graduation weekend unless you want to break up first. And then, over time, it starts to become jarring again. We should move in together when your lease is up if you’re not going to break up with me.

“Stop saying that,” Will finally says. “I’m not going to.”

“You’re not going to break up with me?” Mack’s about to fist-pump over his long game paying off. “Like ever?”

“Like ever,” Will confirms, and Mack can’t get down on one knee fast enough.

[muridae3]

Birthday Surprises | Harvey x GN!Farmer

The farmer prepares for Harvey's birthday, hoping to give him something that he will love. Only one problem: He is impossible to shop for.

The farmer had absolutely no idea what to do for Harvey’s birthday. 

He was impossible to buy for. Although had plenty of favorite things (Coffee, pickles, or the occasional bottle of wine), he deserved something much more special. 

“I love the guy…” Maru sighed, tired after an hour of fruitless brainstorming, “but he is…”

“Impossible to buy for.” The farmer groaned, resting their forehead on the desk. “I got him a model plane for The Feast of the Winter Star, so I can’t do that…”

“Why’d you wait so long to get him a birthday gift?” Maru asked.

The farmer sighed, embarrassed. “Time got away from me, I guess. I was so focused on my pumpkin crop, I barely noticed winter growing closer. Then, when the snow hit, I decided to fix up the wear and tear on my farm, then go to Zuzu city while he was at the clinic… then… that didn’t happen.”

“Maybe… maybe he doesn’t need a physical gift.” Maru suggested. “A party, maybe?”

“No.” The farmer laughed. “You know how he is at social gatherings. A private picnic?”

“No. Too cold. Dinner at the saloon?” 

“No, everyone would be swarming him with well wishes…” The farmer shook their head. 

“How about,” Maru tapped her chin, still deep in thought, “you surprise him with a night in? Cook his favorite meal, watch a movie, open a bottle of wine.”

The farmer’s eyes lit up. “That’s an amazing idea! How did I not think of that?” 

Maru shrugged. “I’m intuitive like that, I guess. You have a couple days to prepare— get over to Pierre’s and get what you need. I’ll keep the doc here.”  

“Thanks, Maru. I owe you.” The farmer smiled gratefully before leaving the clinic, rushing next door to get groceries.

The farmer ensured that Harvey’s birthday was full of rest and relaxation. At their urging, he had spent nearly all day in his atelier, piecing together his latest model plane and listening to his favorite jazz album. 

Meanwhile, the farmer had been working diligently in the kitchen. Harvey was the usual cook, but the super meals hadn’t turned out half bad. The farmer had used the nicest place setting from their grandfather’s china cabinet, and candles gave the table a romantic touch. Going down to the cellar, they found the final piece of the meal: a bottle of starfruit wine they had been saving for a special occasion. After all, what was more special than their beloved’s birthday?

They just hoped it was enough.

Harvey often downplayed just how important he was to them– he would always say that he was ‘self-sufficient’ and that the farmer didn’t need to worry about them.

But they did– almost as much as he worried about the farmer.

They just wanted him to know how much he was loved.

Just as they filled Harvey’s glass, pondering these thoughts, the farmer heard a gasp. Looking up, they saw that Harvey had entered the kitchen. “Oh! You weren’t supposed to come in yet! I was just about to come get you!”

“Did you…” Harvey choked. “Did you do all this for me?”

“Oh, Harvey…” The farmer set down the bottle of wine. “Of course I did. It’s your birthday, and you deserve to be celebrated.”

Harvey looked as if he was about to cry. Then a tear spilled down his cheek. “This is too much, you really didn’t have to–”

“But you haven’t even seen the best part yet!” They turned around, digging through the cabinet for a moment before removing two green party hats. “I got hats!” 

Harvey smiled. “I love them.” 

“Here you go, birthday boy.” The farmer set the hat on his head.

Harvey took the farmer’s own hat and secured it to their head. “There. Now we’re both festive.”

The farmer pulled Harvey’s chair out for him, and he sat. “Really, you didn’t have to do all this for me…”

“Pish posh, Doc.” The farmer said. “I’m your spouse. It’s the least I can do for the man I love.”

Hours later, after dinner had been eaten and copious amounts of wine had been drunk, Harvey and the farmer were sitting on the couch, watching the end credits of a Christmas movie.

“This…” Harvey started, clearing his throat. “This is the best birthday I’ve had in… a long time.”

“You think so?” The farmer asked, leaning on his shoulder. “I was worried it wouldn’t be enough.”

“It’s exactly what I wanted. A night in with my best friend, cheesy Christmas movies, and wine. What else could a guy like me want?”

“I dunno.” They mumbled, closing their eyes, realizing that they had accomplished their goal: Harvey felt loved. He felt seen. 

Harvey kissed the top of their head. “I love you, dear.”

“I love you too, Harv.” They mumbled, finally surrendering to the clutches of sleep. 

[michelle-is-writing]

Emergency, Dr. John Carter

Word Count: 1.7k~

Warnings: a bit of angst, pregnancy

I never thought anything would be harder than nursing school. All of the late nights spent studying combined with little-to-no sleep seemed like the worst torture at the time, but right now, I have to disagree with my prior belief. I’m used to seeing people in their hospital beds, caring for them and giving them their medication; but now I’m the one in the hospital bed with various monitors hooked up to me. Beside me is Dr. Carter, the doctor I work alongside with who also happens to be my ex.

“I told you, you need to slow down at work once you hit twenty-four weeks,” John reminds me, but I continue staring ahead of me at the light pink room. “You should know, first-hand, you cannot be running around the halls like you used to,” Despite his words holding truth to them, I still don’t respond to him, and instead, I close my eyes as memories pass through my mind. To be specific, the memory of why Dr. John Carter is my ex.

“You deserve someone better, someone much better than me.”

To him, he believed what he was saying, but no matter what I tried to tell him, nothing changed his mind. He wanted to break up after nearly a year of being together; even now, I still don’t understand his reasoning. Heartbreak can cause bitterness, and mine still hasn’t gone away despite being six months pregnant.

“Are you listening to me?” John’s question laced with worry brings me out of my thinking and back to him, my head tilting toward him to look at his concerned face. Months ago, I would’ve kissed that worry away; now I can only feel my throat close as I start to form a response. At work, I can handle talking to my ex, but anything outside of work is pointless for me.

With a sigh, John shakes his head before looking down at my stomach. “You know, I’ve been waiting so long for the opportunity to talk to you, but baby, I never wanted it to be like this,” he confesses, his brown eyes flickering to me. “I know it’s been hard, and I’ve-“

“You wanted this,” I tell him, my voice cracking as I fight away tears. “You wanted us to break up, and… we broke up. I’m sorry I-I got pregnant, and I didn’t find out until after we broke up, but-“

This time, it’s John’s turn to cut me off as he quickly sits up to face me. “Please, don’t apologize for this, please,” He urges me, taking my hand in both of his. The action shocks me, my eyes stuck on his worried ones as I feel his touch after what seems like an eternity. “I’ve regretted that night every day since it happened, and I’ve been trying to talk to you, but you… haven’t wanted to,” he looks almost crushed as he says this, his face cast with a pained expression. “I don’t want to trail behind you like a lost puppy in this hospital anymore, I can’t. I want you, and I was beyond stupid that night for what I said and did,” John sighs, “When I found out you were pregnant, I tried my best to avoid anything that could stress you and the baby out, but it’s killed me to stand back and have to watch you do everything by yourself. That’s the last thing I ever wanted, baby, and I'm so sorry.”

Looking at his sad face makes the dam in my eyes break, causing him to quickly reach up and brush my oncoming tears away. I can’t even fight against him doing so, missing him and his touch outweighing the hurt at this exact moment. For a while, I savor his touch, and even after the tears stop falling, his hands still remain on me. That is, until I open my eyes and turn my face to look up at him. “What’s my treatment plan then, Doc?” I ask him, his eyes meeting mine as he moves to brush my hair out of my face.

After a few seconds, John lets out a small chuckle before answering my question. “Your treatment plan is: you need to stay off your feet and do desk work for the next four weeks, but then you cannot return to work after thirty-two weeks,” His words make me frown; I had a feeling that would happen as my obstetrician had already hinted at it to me before.

“Lastly,” John’s voice brings my attention back to him, seeing a now nervous look on his face. “I would… I would love it if you’d move back in with me,” Before I can argue him on the last part, he quickly shakes his head at me and continues on. “I know you and Carol don’t mind room-mating like you used to, but baby, please, come back. That apartment doesn’t feel the same without you, I miss you so damn much. Please come home - with me.”

After what feels like forever, I smile and find myself relaxing back against my pillows as I watch John’s face flash between worry and fear. I remain quiet until a sigh leaves through my nose and I speak up. “Okay,” I whisper, an elated, yet relieved smile breaking onto John’s face at my answer. “I’ll… I’ll come home.”

John can’t hold his happiness back as he moves forward and plants his lips back on mine one more time. “Great, that’s amazing,” he babbles, seemingly overfilled with a mix of joy and relief. Letting out a happy sigh, he rests his forehead against mine before speaking up once more. “Thank you, baby.”

For a few moments, we remain like this until I pull back to look at him and his unusually messy hair. He must’ve been running his fingers through it earlier, a nervous habit of his. A part of me feels bad at the idea of being the reason for this, but at the same time, I didn’t mean to pass out on the hospital floor either.

“I want to keep you here under evaluation until I get off,” John states, his tired brown eyes staring back into mine. “I’d like to give you some more fluids for the dehydration and nausea meds, but in the mean time,” He further explains, rolling back in the stool he’s sitting in to grab the ultrasound stand in the corner of the room before scooting back over to me. “I want to check on a few things.”

Once the machine is plugged in, John quickly sets up everything he needs all the while I simply roll my gown up above my stomach for him. It feels a bit weird exposing myself to him like this after all this time apart, but he quickly reassures me by reaching over and gently squeezing my hand. I smile at this before closing my eyes in preparation for the cold gel which comes soon enough. At the freezing sensation, my eyes shoot open before ultimately looking over at John to see him staring at the ultrasound screen with focused eyes and a look of awe on his face. I’ve helped him perform many ultrasounds on other pregnancies, but never have I seen such a look on his face while doing so.

A few seconds pass before he seemingly realizes something and adjusts some of the knobs on the machine. A soft wave sound fills the room once he does this, the sound being something I’ve heard many times before at my appointments, but for John, this is the first time. This is the first time he’s seeing and hearing the heartbeat of our baby, and I’m sure he’s been wanting to do this for a long time. I felt bad having to watch him do this with every other pregnant woman that walked in, but yet, he couldn’t even do it with me - the woman carrying his baby.

“Hello, little one,” John addresses our baby, smiling up at the ultrasound screen. He moves over the wand before laughing a little to himself. “A healthy baby girl,” he announces, more to himself than anyone. “She’s… fine, healthy. She looks like she’ll come out a perfect baby,” despite this comment, John still spends the next several minutes scanning over every little part of our baby, keeping an eye out for any abnormalities. It’s only when he feels satisfied with himself that he takes the wand away and cleans my stomach off before resting his hand on top of my stomach, his eyes now locked onto mine. “You’re doing a great job, mama.”

I’m not sure if it’s the eye contact or the sincerity in his comment that causes me to begin tearing up again, but John is quick to wipe the few strays tears away with his free hand, his other hand remaining on my stomach as his thumb gently rubs against my skin. “I’ve missed you too…” I whisper to him, too emotional to speak louder as I remember what it was like to learn how to do all of this without him. “I missed you so much.”

John smiles at my words, although it doesn’t reach his eyes that seem to share the same emotion as mine. “I promise, I’ll make it up to you, baby,” He vows, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to my forehead. “To both of you.”

With that, he stands up from his stool before pushing it to the wall and looking back at me. I place my hand where his was just moments ago, already missing the warmth from his hand on my stomach. “When my shift ends, I’ll have one of the nurses start the discharge papers. Then we can head home,” John states, a smile making its way onto both of our faces as he says the word ‘home’. “Is that okay?” He clarifies earning a nod back from me. His smile seems to grow at this, turning into a soft grin. “Good,” John says, “Now it’ll finally feel like home again, too.”

[cas-edspace]

okay, I got inspired-

Brain gave me this and I want to see if this if this isn’t just brain rot or not

(Also I haven’t seen the vids in a while so timing could be off, but it’s fine, go with it)

It’s Double Life, everything happened the same, well, mostly. Because out of nowhere Mumbo appeared at Spawn.

Then Doc does.

In the middle of a session, everyone drop everything and ran over, some slower than others as they had moments of “What is going ON, MAN?” to their soulbond and then rush over.

Eventually everyone was there witnessing Doc having arms filled with… a crying Ren while Mumbo was trying to get a very pissed off- or what they think is a pissed off Scar, the man had the ability to hide his emotions very well, so being able to see anything negative at all is a bad, bad sign.

Their respective soulmates were standing a bit away. BigB is standing away as a sign of respect? Grian, on the other hand, is obviously twitching to get closer to his best friend but a glance from Scar is enough to keep his distance.

You see, the newcomers’ appearance wasn’t at the beginning of the season, it was during the cheating section.

And, on pure speculation that the entire server standing together at spawn caused their soulbonds’ to appear in their respective colors, Tango and Jimmy’s yellow, Grian and Scar’s green, etc

Speaking of Grian’s and Scar’s, they both grimaced at the string tying them. However, what happened next, surprised everyone, as Scar acted without thinking, and with fast and precise accuracy and movement, took his sword out and cut his string clean in half.

Time froze, you could hear Grian’s heart crack then completely shatter at Scar’s next words,

“Happy now? You can go and be with your Secret Soulmate.”

A few people let out surprised chuckles, while others’ mouths just hung open.

Like magic, Ren and BigB’s split too, Ren let out a whine and shoved his face back into Doc’s chest. Doc hugs the man closer, staring at the randomly combusted string. BigB screams in anguish, and grabs his end, horrified.

A lot of the people on the server has terrible observation skills but no one missed, not even Ren as Doc told him to look, the end of Grian’s and the end of BigB’s started floating and connects together. All heads then shoots to Scar’s and Ren’s, but landing ultimately on Scar’s as it started to float and started to grow longer and longer as it lifts to tie itself around Mumbo’s finger and continue still to connect and touch his heart.

Words of… some emotion or another were shouted. Of probable happiness, given Scar’s and Mumbo’s face. Grian couldn’t hear or remember to exist after the cutting of his string

Ren pulls himself from Doc to stare at his own in wonder as the process of Scar’s seemed to repeat but his connected to Doc’s and he tackled the creeper, who chuckles excitedly. They were very happy with this new addition. BigB wasn’t, but he knew something that Grian couldn’t fathom at that moment.

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.