#even if it takes several decades😩

[creative-hanyou-girl]

Seeing how long it's taking for NaLu to become canon makes me wonder if this is how Fred x Daphne shippers felt waiting for their ship to become canon in the 60's and the decades beyond that.

To their credit, Fred and Daphne DID become an actual thing in the live action movies and Mystery Incorporated eventually, right?

[edgeray]

oh yes i meant when the reader is pregnant if u can, not in a nsfw way im sorry i made it unclear😭

Dragon Hunter Mother Part 4

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N -Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  It is once again dragon time, guys. I've written three dragon-related things straight 😩. The part you guys have been waiting for. Actual romance, hell yeah. Extra fluff for that one annoying moot (you know who you are 😡). It’s a bit short compared to the other parts for this series, but probably because there's no new lore dump. Guys, I’ve thought so far into this au, please feel free to ask questions about this AU outside of requests. I am dying to talk about random bits of lore I made up (such as Arle's backstory that I won't be able to write). Also this isn't the end. Because there is going to be a Part 5. What the fuck, guys /j.  Hi anons!! Yes, you can be 🦊 anon and 👅anon. I'm sorry for how late this was first anon, I know I kept you for a while 😭. Also I'm sorrry for not being able to fulfil parts of your request because a) jealous arle wouldn't make sense given the worldbuilding, and b) i don't write nsfw of any kind. Sorry. I'm not going to include how exactly you're pregnant because it makes me uncomfortable writing it, so I'll just leave it up to your interpretation.  Please don't let these discourage you from requesting from me :). I always try my best to satisfy every request as long as it's reasonable and within my rules.  Content warnings / info - no warnings :), 1.8k words

Recovering from the infected wound didn't take long–in fact, it only took a week to be fully healthy, and the wound was healing nicely. Arlecchino was able to take care of everything while you were bedridden. You were surprised by how diligent and aware she seemed to be of taking care of you, especially as a dragon, but you didn't question it. She has had several decades of experience before you, you wouldn't be surprised if she picked up on a few things about humans. 

It's been about four months since the dragon hunters incident, and you have yet had another situation like that. Venturing into the town you had previously been going to was no longer safe, and so you began frequenting another bordering village. It was a bit further away, but because it turned out to be a port town, it ended up providing you with a lot more food and resources you previously couldn't access; including: fresh fish, more meat and produce, and more clothes and fabric. 

The trio have grown big enough to which you ride on top of one of them with no difficulty. They not only increased in size, but also their affection for you, crawling into your lap or climbing your back, or simply pouncing on any limb and holding onto you tightly. The same could be said for you, you no longer saw them as children, but your children. Arlecchino tells you that they refer to you as ‘Mother’ often.

Speaking of Arlecchino, she is no longer the standoffish dragon she was before the dragon hunters incident. On certain days, she can be just as clingy, if not more, than the children, although she would vehemently deny it with a scoff if you are to ever bring it up. Over time, she was less dragon, and more human to you, and with that, your attraction towards her continued to blossom. Your current relationship status with her is still strange, neither of you had ever labeled it on human standards, nor have the two of you ever ‘courted’ one another–in human or in draconic methods. Still, neither the two of you could miss the glances or the way you hold each other. 

Lately, the past few weeks, she has been acting strange. She's been exiting the cave more often alone, leaving you with her children to tend to, not that you mind. She returns hours later, usually with some type of wild animal she caught for you: deer, the occasional bear or moose, sometimes even pigs. You often stand at the entrance of the cave, dumbfounded as she drags the dead creature by her teeth in her dragon form, while the hatchlings salivate. If it's not wild animals, it's usually an arrangement of different colored stones she found along the shores or in the river. You appreciate them, but you're no less puzzled by the intention with each gift. 

You tried to wrack your brain of why she would be behaving like this, but you can’t come up with anything. It also seemed like with every gift you received, she became more and more… saddened? You weren't entirely sure for the reason, but you don't want to offend her by questioning her more. As the weeks pass by, and she disappears more and more, it seems like Arlecchino is… moping. 

You have asked the children multiple times, but all they do is give you a pointed look before jerking their head towards their Father and letting out a rumble. When you approach Arlecchino, asking what was troubling her, all she does is shake her head, her subtle pout ever so slightly intensifying. Finally, having enough of Arlecchino staring blankly at her hands for hours straight, you finally come up to her, taking her clawed hands in yours and gaze into her eyes. 

“Arlecchino. Tell me what's wrong,” you demand gently but firmly, kissing her knuckles.

The dragon stays silent, turning away from you, making your eye twitch. 

“Please…” You plead. 

Arlecchino seems hesitant to answer, opening her mouth before closing it several times. She contemplates something deeply, then lets out a steady exhale. 

“I've been… making courting attempts towards you,” she quietly admits, her cheeks flushing the slightest amount. “But… it seems like you're unreceptive to it because you're human.” 

Courting attempts? As if she was trying to establish a romantic relationship with you? No, it’s not courting as in ‘human courting.’ If it has to do with dragons, then perhaps it means–

“You… you want me as your mate?” You whisper out loud, your face undeniably warm at the realization, and your lips quirk up to the faintest smile. 

The dragon nods timidly, so unbefitting for a strong beast like herself. She peers at you intently, searching and analyzing every twitch of your face to come up with her own answer. You let out a huff, raising your arms to cup the sides of her face in your palms. The cold texture of her skin will never be an unwelcome sensation. 

“You could have told me instead of pouting like one of our children,” you chuckle, stepping closer to lean your forehead against her chest, feeling her thumping heart through it. 

“I didn't know if you wanted to be since… you never responded to my attempts. I know that it's silly seeing that you're human, but I felt more and more discouraged…” Her voice is low and vulnerable, and it makes you want to do nothing more but hold her in your arms forever.  

“You really still have so many things to learn about humans,” you giggle, pressing your lips against her nose. Fingers card through Arlecchino's silky locks, and you hum contently.

 “What do you mean?” 

You grin knowingly. “We like more direct expressions of our desires.” 

You stand on your tiptoes before leaning in, warm lips gracing cold ones as you pull her towards you. Your arms lock around her neck, keeping the two of you against each other. Quickly, Arlecchino responds, pressing her mouth against yours fervently while her fangs prick your bottom lip. You groan into the kiss, and squeak when her hands slide down to your behind, lifting you up from your feet and wrapping your legs around her waist. 

The two of you pull away, and there's almost a feral look in her eyes. 

“There's somewhere I have to take you to,” she growls in your ear, and you can't deny that it makes your stomach coil, your loins burning.  

“Okay…” You murmur, holding onto her tightly. She carries you with ease, walking out of the cave and following along the edge of the mountain's base. It takes only about ten minutes until you spot a small opening, another cavern. Arlecchino takes you inside, and your eyes widen at the sight.

It's a nest, a careful structure supported by stones as the foundation with the sides from branches and sliced tree trunks, before the top is covered in an assortment of blankets and pillows. However, it's smaller and cozier than the nest at home–as if it's made for humans. You carefully step into it, sitting down and finding it pleasantly comfortable. 

“Arlecchino…” you gasp out with whispered awe. 

“Yes…?” 

“Where did you get the money for this?” You question, holding a heap of the numerous silk blankets in your arms, giving her a pointed look knowing damn well it wasn't your money. 

The dragon brings a claw to her face and scratches nervously. “I had Lyney search the bodies of the dragon hunters for anything of value. They had quite a hefty sum,” Arlecchino confesses. 

You sigh in relief, glad that no weaver or innocent person was harmed in getting this. “It's lovely. Is this what you've been leaving the cave for for so long?” 

Arlecchino nods, her voice bashful. “It's… it's a mating nest, so that if it were to happen the children would not be there. I wanted to ask you here…” 

The dragon walks inside the nest, before kneeling down before you, her clawed hands gingerly finding yours and holding them in her large palms. “Would you like to be my mate?” 

“I thought my answer was obvious. Of course,” you answer, smiling. “But isn't mating season in another two months?” 

She nods in response. “I wanted to prepare as early as possible. I wanted everything to be perfect.” ‘For you,’ she leaves out, but you know it's what she implies.

“It is perfect. Thank you… though I feel bad,” you murmur, your own face flustered by your embarrassment. “It took me this long to realize. I guess… I should make it up to you by courting you back, right?” 

Arlecchino flushes, her face visibly reddening. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you've courted me with how dragons usually do it. I will do the same, but with humans. Does that sound alright?” You offer, giving her the largest grin. 

Arlecchino's face softens, leaning down and pressing her forehead against you. “Yeah… yeah, that sounds alright,” she murmurs against your lips. 

—

Three months have passed by since then. 

Safe to say, you’re pregnant. 

Arlecchino’s attentiveness towards you had always been impressive, but it borders on extreme with how much she pampers you. Before the mating season, you've taught her all you can about human civilization and socialization so that in the instance you won't be able to travel to town yourself, she can instead. While you always have saved up a lot of money from your time as a dragon hunter, she likes to spend it on you unreservedly. 

It would be endearing if it weren't the excessive amount of blankets in the nest, as if you weren't warm enough. Not to mention the amount of books she's gotten you. Since she doesn't exactly know how to navigate a bookstore, or how to differentiate between different genres of books, she’s gotten you dictionaries, children's book, erotica even. She was blissfully unaware why you read a page for a few seconds, shut the book immediately, took a deep breath before reopening the book, only to reshut it as well, repeating the same process. You didn't want her to get any… ideas. 

Currently, Arlecchino was in her dragon form, nestled around you   protectively from any gusts of wind that may pass through the cave entrance, her tail thumping against the floor softly. Her head rests besides you, her throat rumbling gratifyingly as you run your hand over her snout. 

The trio are currently fighting over some of the beef jerky you mistakenly bought for them, unaware of the chaos it would ensue in the cave. They seem to forget that you can return to the town to buy them more… Ah well, hatchlings will be hatchlings. 

You wonder how much more lively the cave will be with another one. 

[luveline]

hihihi! request for zombie steve au! maybe someone at the college bullies reader into thinking she’s not good enough for steve?

just gotta say that I LOVE LOVE LOVE all your works & esp this au 😩 it just does something to me

hi thank you so much for your request! I didn't make it so severe as bullying I don't think, but tw for bullying just to be safe, and suggestive! tw mentioned weight loss <3 zombie!au steve 9k words

The dinner line is long and winding. You and Steve stand elbow to elbow, the smell of refried beans and homemade tortillas near hypnotising.

"I know the tortillas are gonna taste a little weird, I just don't care," you say, the hand you’ve curled around your boyfriend's forearm squeezing enthusiastically. 

"Imagine if they had cheese," he taunts. 

"Don't be evil, Steve." 

His laugh dissappears into the swelling sounds of a hundred conversations. It feels like high school, bodies packed into the same room like a bingo wheel, people bouncing off of one another frenetically as the night turns forward. There's a lot of happy energy in here tonight. You're contributing at least half. Not even Steve's unfortunate truths can get you down. Yeah, you miss cheese a lot, but after a full day in the pantry shift and close quarters to such gorgeous smells, you're ravenous. 

Your stomach gives a rumbling groan, and Steve's pressed so close to you that he can feel it. He wraps his arm around your shoulder to kiss the top of your head. 

His easy affection sates you for a while. You turn to watch the people already sitting with their meals, jealous but not too much, and find your happiness isn't grudging. You're happy to be here. You won't take this stroke of luck for granted, not again. 

You and Steve get your plates, refried beans, roasted greens seasoned with a vibrant red that smells spicy and decadent. There's definitely olive oil mixed in. You thrum with pleasure but wait patiently for steve to collect his own helpings, your cutlery, and finally, your drinks.

Robin sees you coming and waves you down unnecessarily. She's sitting with a dark-haired girl called Vanessa, and another girl you're unsure of. Vanessa had been part of your rescue squad, the team of people who'd fought to bring you back to The College. You'd show her some gratitude if she deigned to look at you. 

No matter how snooty you find her, Robin likes her. You try to like her too. 

"Hey," you say, putting your place setting down in front of Robin to encourage Steve to her side. 

He might downplay it but you know how much he loves her, and how much he'd missed her when they were separated. She's an extremely important part of his life. You wish he'd spend more time with her outside of scavenging and supply runs, but Steve is stuck to you like glue. It's awful and amazing. 

"Hi, killer," Robin says. 

You scrunch up your nose. "We're still using that?" 

"You were impressive!" she emphasises. 

Steve puts his drink down before his plate. She's quick to grab it, taking a generous swig as he grumbles and grouches. 

"Do you mind?" he asks. 

"I don't. Tell your girlfriend you think she was impressive!" 

"She knows exactly how I feel about her."

You smile at him. You know more than enough. He's a sweetheart through and through, and though the incident Robin's referencing hadn't been one he loved, he agrees; you'd managed to cut down six zombies all by yourself when they'd split off from a herd that managed to infiltrate community defences, and Steve had thought you were a rockstar. He'd grabbed you, covered in blood and sweat, and asked you why you couldn't just stay inside, and then he'd hugged you for too long, and said later, "My girl's a fucking weapon." Like a nerd. 

It's not complicated. Steve had been in danger. You'd wanted to save him, and you'd tried. Turns out he'd be the one to save you… for the hundredth time. But your efforts impressed him. 

Impressed everyone, according to Robin. 

"Hey, Vanessa," you say warmly. 

Vanessa gives you a strange smile in return. Despite mutual friends, Vanessa hasn't warmed to you. She'd been one of the only people who'd volunteered for your rescue squad but you're starting to think that hadn't been because she liked you, exactly. She just couldn't really say no. 

"Hey," she says. "How are you?" 

Civil you can do easily. You and Steve had been civil for weeks. 

"I'm good! Yeah, we heard there were gonna be real tortillas tonight and thought we'd get here early, but everybody had the same idea, I guess." 

She laughs politely. "We did." 

You wouldn't villainise Vanessa for disliking you. You barely like yourself. And, in your opinion, you'd gotten pretty damn lucky that Steve likes you as much as he does, though a small voice whispers that it'd been a grudging sort of love, like a flower squeezing its way through two panels of sidewalk. A weed that isn't supposed to be there. You worry often and in droves that Steve will come to his senses. He's gonna wake up one day, look at your sleeping face, and realise it isn't enough. 

When you'd first joined The College community, you'd thought for sure that was it. Steve was gonna trample your heart once and for all. He never did, of course. The opposite — he'd doubled down. Told you he loved you for the first time, and a second time, too. 

And now, miles trekked to get you back, his calf a blistering star of heat where it kisses your own beneath the table, your doubts fade away. 

Vanessa doesn't have to like you. That's not the way the world works. With Steve at your side, the rejection barely stings. 

You rub your shoe gently against his ankle. He looks up at you, a crazy amount of tortilla in his mouth, and he looks so silly you laugh hard and suddenly. 

He covers his mouth. 

"I thought you were looking somewhere else," he defends. 

"Pig," Robin says, still sipping at his cup of water. 

You rub his ankle again. A joke waits at the tip of your tongue, You're lucky I love you. It would feel good to say, but it's not your thing. You've never been outwardly romantic. 

His cheeks pink a little under the fluorescents. 

For Steve, you can be romantic. 

"You're lucky I love you," you say. 

There's too much emphasis on 'love', not enough on 'lucky', and the joke refuses to land. Your voice is softer than silk. It's all too sweet. 

"More than lucky," Steve says, grinning at you.

You try to put your glass of water on his tray. He puts its straight back on your own. 

"Robin's gonna go get me another one," he says. 

"I need one for myself," she says, unhappy. 

"You have two hands." 

"Will you get me a refill?" Vanessa asks. 

Christopher, another of Steve's fast friends, slams his tray down next to yours happily. Jonathan is right after him, and then the table's filling up with people: Jonathan's younger brother sits beside him, and the younger brother's friends follow. They're all glued together, you swear. You recognise Dustin in the throng, his chestnut brown curls crushed under a blue hat bragging the Claypole Farmer's Market, wherever that is. 

"Steve's getting drinks?" Chris asks.

"For me too, please," Jonathan adds. "And Will, if you don't mind." 

"I actually do," Steve says. 

"And us!" Dustin says, smirking. "Thank you, oh gracious one."

Steve looks at you for a second, slack-jawed. Can you believe this shit? He stands up, grumbling, and forces his hand between Robin's upper arm and chest to drag her with him. 

"Come on, Rob, I can't carry them by myself." 

"Steve, please, I'm tired," she moans, her words all lifted and croaky. 

"How'm I supposed to carry them by myself? Am I a fucking squid?" 

"I'll help," you say, happy to do it, anything for him and at any time. 

He puts his hand out to you, a universal gesture for Sit the fuck down. "Buckley will be more than capable." His smile softens. "Thank you." 

You pout at him very gently in a kissy face to watch him light up. It's cheesy and rom-com, and it works like a charm. By the time he gets Robin on her feet the tips of his ears are completely blushed, a stark red against the mousy browns and blondes of his hair. 

"Hey, Y/N," Chris says, mouth full of tortilla. Boys are all the same. 

"Hey," Jonathan echoes, and at least his hand is in front of his mouth, "how are you feeling? They let you back in the kitchen yet?" 

"They did. Hopper really didn't like that I broke the lock down rules, but at the same time, I think he understands that I'm a grown up." 

Lock down rules being, once a door is shut, it stays shut. Do not give a herd the opportunity to worm its way inside. 

But you'd made sure the coast was completely clear, and after Maybelle and Pauline, your fellow kitchen staff, had vouched for that, he'd let you off the hook, and back to work. You hadn't realised how punishing not working could be, especially when Steve had stayed on shift, his time split between scrounging outside of the community and fence duty. There's nothing to stop you from spending the day thinking about what-ifs, which is veritable torture. 

"You missed the kitchen? Did you make these?" Chris asks. 

You turn to your food and tear off some of the warm tortilla, sighing with pleasure. "No, I'm just kitchen pantry, you know? I'm sorta like an accountant. Like Dora in the armoury, or–" You nod at Vanessa with a smile. "Vanessa. You're in charge of the toiletries and stuff, right, with Cooper and Dean, and those guys?" 

She clears her throat. "It's more than 'toiletries and stuff,'" she corrects with a stilted laugh. "It's everything that isn't food. Medicine for the medic, the nursery supplies, the batteries. It's important." 

"No, of course! I didn't mean to imply anything else. I can't imagine." 

You're sure her smile this time is genuine. You and Vanessa can't seem to mesh because she's a little more serious than you are and your easygoing tone rubs her the wrong way, but you think your explanation makes it up. 

She opens her mouth to speak when Dustin leans over the table, projecting his voice down the line. "Y/N! Are you coming to cards club tonight?" 

"I don't know, babe," you say, startled at his question. "I thought so. If Steve isn't too tired then yeah, absolutely." 

"You can come without Steve," Jonathan says. 

"I know," you say, softly so you know he's grateful for the reassurance. 

"You're the only one who can beat Will at Yahtzee. You have wicked luck," says Mike, their pale, dark-haired friend, who usually rivals Dustin for hostility. You're glad he seems to like you. 

"Yahtzee isn't luck based," says Will. 

The entire group groans at the ignition of a familiar argument. 

"Robin, if you fucking nudge me again I'm gonna make sure this goes all over you," comes Steve's voice. 

You turn in your seat to watch their procession of glasses, at least six between them with not a tray in sight. Robin looks confident, Steve terrified. You jump to your seat to rescue him, taking his third glass from the nestling group so he can pick up his pace. 

"Thank you," he says, dipping his head down for a kiss. 

You're surprised but never not wanting to be kissed by him, your chin lifting on automatic to reciprocate. You chase him when he pulls away, turning one kiss into two, his lips the tiniest bit chapped against yours. It's a comforting pressure. 

You ease away. "Are we going to card club tonight?" 

"If you want to, of course we are." 

"You aren't tired?" 

"You're saying I look ugly." 

He glares at you, faux-offended.Your laugh is peeling, infectious to your own ears. 

"No!" you deny. 

"Right." He tries to be deadpan, sighing in defeat when he can't keep up the illusion. "Shit, I almost had it. S'too bad I'm a sucker for you when you smile like that." 

— 

Later that night, you and Steve are sitting around the very same tables that have been wiped down with a watery lysol, and you have an amazing three game Yahtzee streak going where nobody can beat you.

Steve's ears are ringing with the clattering sound of dice in the shaker, and he's freezing. It's a great night. He shrugged out of his jacket to lay it over your shoulders, and has to periodically readjust it to stop it from falling to the floor, your arms moving enthusiastically with each new shake. 

Steve winces as Dustin makes a fatal mistake. He’s used his two sixes to mark a 12 in the sixes column, holding out for a yacht.

"Dude, the chances of getting Yahtzee are like, one in a thousand," Steve says.

"One in thirteen hundred," you correct, already scooping up Dustin's die to take your turn. 

"One in seven thousand and seven hundred for each number," Mike says. 

"Ew," Steve says, face slumped into his palm, elbow aching where it's pushed into the table. "You fucking nerds infected my girl." 

"It's in the rule book," you say, shaking the circular dice container with your hand on top. You throw them out on the table and assess your given numbers with a frown. 

You have three threes and two ones. You keep the threes and shake the other two dice again. Yahtzee had felt complicated when Steve first learned how to play, and now it feels maddening. It's definitely luck based, in his humble opinion, and that has nothing to do with his never winning a game, he swears. 

"Does the chance of rolling a Yacht get higher if you keep the dice?" he asks, gesturing to your three threes.

"Yeah," you mumble, throwing your second shuffle out onto the table. "Yeah, but it's pretty negligible, handsome. Goes from point one to point two."

"It isn't negligible," Will denies. "It's probability, not luck, and it isn't point one, it's zero point zero eight, and it can be as high as zero point five. That's one in two hundred."

"That math isn't right," Dustin says. 

"Yes, it is."

"No, it isn't." 

You throw out your last shuffle and everyone leans in to see what you rolled. Your three threes are kept to one side, and your new rolls clatter to a halt in front of Steve. 

"Holy shit," he says. 

You rolled two threes. 

"Yahtzee!" you cheer, pumping your little fist adorably. Little in that it's smaller than his, and not very little in reality. "Alright, who's next?" 

"The game isn't over," Dustin says, peeved. 

You peer down his scorecard. He could win, theoretically, if he were to score multiple yachts, or if he'd been careful with his aces, ones, etc. 

"Nah, it is," Steve says. "Take it like a champ, Henderson." 

Dustin refuses to give up, playing until the end. You score a solid 319 to his less impressive 178. 

Steve robs your hand before you can agree to a rematch, forcing you to unfurl your tensed fist. He loves doing this — he presses the tips of his thumbs into the sides of one of your fingers and pushes down. It must hurt a teeny tiny bit but you never say a word, only giggle at his touch and lean toward him like you might tell him a secret. He would lament how much time he wasted being an asshole to you if he had the wherewithal. As it is, he's enchanted with you, and he isn't casual about it, pushing all of your anxiety down to your fingertips. He brings them to his mouth and kisses them each in turn. 

You pull your hand away. He thinks you're standing up to leave the table, but you're moving closer to him and straightening your back. He can picture the ache between your shoulder blades as it is between his own, the weird raw feeling, a tightness. 

"Want a neck massage?" he asks as you place your hand against his cheek. 

You brush your thumb over his stubble. "Do you want a neck massage?" you ask, unperturbed by his sudden question. His jacket threatens to slide onto the floor. 

"Are you offering?" 

"Not in cards club." You look over his shoulder. "We could play poker."

"The buy-in's too expensive." 

"What?" You frame his face with your hand. He's not sure you know you're doing it. "We can spare it, isn't that why we brought it?" 

Buy-in tonight is a bar of soap. Half the time everybody goes home with what they brought anyways, so you're obviously not worried. 

You squeeze his cheek and laugh. "You'd be cute if you were chubby." 

He grabs your hand, face warped by an irreplaceable joy, a delight to have you and be with you, a sparkling kind of lightness to know you're safe and happy here. He kisses your cheek, and says, smushed up against your skin, "You're cute." 

"Thank you." 

He hums. "So. Poker?" 

—

You have a small sink in your room with a hot and cold faucet, though no matter which one you choose, the water comes out cold. It chills your face as you scrub. When your face is reasonably wet, you lather the bar of honey soap Steve insists on keeping at the side of the sink between your fingers before dropping it imprecisely into your boyfriend's waiting palm. He laughs under his breath at the clumsy manoeuvre. 

You listen to him do the same as you had as you soap your face. You give special attention to your nose, your eyebrows, and your ears. Steve laughs again as you work a small towel behind them. 

"What's funny?" 

"Nothing." He holds his hand out for the towel, patting down his face with less ardency. He isn't less clean for it. "You have suds under your nose. Tiny moustache." 

He reaches for it with the towel, lifting your face with the back of his hand under your chin. His eyes are their forever warm brown, fixed on your top lip with a dedication that makes your baseline fondness for him surge. 

"I was pretty bad at poker, huh?" you ask. 

"No?" He dries a lingering stretch of dampness painting your cheek before dropping the towel behind the faucets. "You didn't win. Doesn't mean you were bad." 

"Vanessa said I should stick to Yahtzee," you tell him. You pause, wanting his input, and worried you're feeling offended by something that isn't inherently offensive. 

"Vanessa should stick to lawn darts," he says, chucking you under the chin. 

He starts to pull his pants down like it's no big deal. It isn't, not after so many months together, you've seen him do worse in worse states than this, but it feels forbidden anyhow to watch him climb into bed. 

"Could you pass me my sweatpants?" he asks, face turned into the pillow, his shoulders deflating.

"You're decompressing without me." 

"Am not." He pushes his hand under the pillow, shoulder blade shifting under his shirt noticeably. "Hurry and decompress with me."

You throw his sweatpants at his calves and he does a sort of vertical dance to put them on, one leg then the other, lifting his hips and dropping heavily back into the sheets when he's done. He looks at home. His relaxation catches you off guard, a pleasure to see even if it isn't strictly new. He feels safe here with you. 

"She's good at those darts," you say. 

"And shit at poker," Steve says agreeably. He lifts his head off of the pillow. "Are you coming in or are you gonna sleep standing up tonight?"  

You shimmy out of your stiff jeans and try not to feel the huge weight of his eyes on your skin. It's an impossible task, and you fail immediately. 

"Stop looking at me." 

"M'not." 

You glare at him, find him absolutely looking at you. Your glare fades when you realise how loving his gaze is, how it doesn't waver for a second. He pushes the sheets down on your side of the bed and waves his arm for you to get in. 

You pull on your pyjama pants and take off your bra, climbing into bed beside him. He wraps his arm around you quickly, or rather under you, his bicep crushed by your shoulders. Chills prickle against your skin as he cups the flesh just shy of your breast. If Steve wanted to touch you like that, he could. You want him just as much as you don't, content to cuddle with him, content to kiss like teenagers with nowhere to go tomorrow, content to do worse. He spreads his fingers over your torso, pinky nudging the underside. You'd let Steve touch wherever he liked, and he'd enjoy doing it, you think. That's a gift in itself such casual intimacy. 

"Vanessa, is she…" Steve's minty fresh breath pushes over your face like a small gale. "She's not picking on you, is she?" 

You like to be honest with Steve, and you want to be honest now — I don't know. But you hate thinking he'd have to look after you more than he does already. 

"No," you say, "we just aren't a good fit."

"Like a puzzle?" Steve asks sceptically.

"Guess my pieces are a little warped after spending so much time with you." 

He laughs like you're the funniest girl he's ever met, a big breathy sound with the punch of his voice behind it. "Guess they are," he says, hand climbing higher over your chest. "Is that a bad thing?" 

"Never," you say lightly. 

He smiles at you. You forget Vanessa's out of place comments, her weak smiles, her for-show friendliness in front of Steve. She doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things, and letting her dictate your thoughts in gorgeous, glowing moments like this would be a waste. 

"Love you," you whisper. 

Steve nestles into the space under your jaw. He doesn't fit but he does, of course he does, he's your everything. If that's where he wants to sleep tonight, so be it. You turn into his grasp to take the pressure off of his arm and return his gentle hugging, forcing his face closer so you can breathe in the smell of his hair. 

"Love you," Steve says. He kisses your neck chastely. "Turn the light off?" 

You reach back blindly and switch off the lamp. Everything will be okay as long as you have your boy. Right? 

—

Vanessa gets worse. She makes neutral comments with enough friendliness to make you wonder if she's truly being cruel? Am I just looking for a fight? What do I want? 

Maybe it's Vanessa's clear preference for Steve. You could be jealous. You aren't sure what jealousy feels like in relationships until she's touching him when she doesn't need to be and smiling at him like he hung the moon. She doesn't go overboard, though. She keeps her hands mostly to herself. She goes as far as to tell Steve that she thinks you're beautiful. 

You don't know how to explain your reservations to him if he can't already see it. If she'd really thought you were beautiful, surely that's something she could say face to face, rather than the unhappy little nod she gives you whenever you cross paths? Despite evidence suggesting it, you don't think Vanessa's trying to make a move on Steve. 

She's a bit of a bitch, but that's not a crime. Unfortunate? Yes. Illegal? No. Immoral? You aren't sure. 

It's her most obvious dig yet that manages to grab Steve's attention a second time since the poker incident.

"I couldn't let my eyebrows grow out like yours," she says, voice bubbly with a faked awe, "I think it's super cool of you."

"Vanessa," Robin says, eyes on her plate, an inquisitive twist to her voice that you've come to know as her sarcasm, "we're in the apocalypse." 

Steve, who'd seemed torn between speaking up and genuinely confused about the comment Vanessa'd made, chokes on his food beside you, soup dribbling down both corners of his mouth as he laughs. You wipe the corners of his mouth with your long sleeves.

"Jeez, you're like my baby," you say. Your voice is occluded by Jonathan's silvery giggles. 

Steve swallows roughly, "I resent that."

He still lifts his chin so you'll rub the bead that's escaped down his throat. 

Vanessa ends up laughing too, says, "I think I'm just crazy tired," punctuated with a high-pitched laugh. 

"Honestly, me too," you say, because maybe she is, and maybe she needs just a little smidge more benefit of the doubt. 

"I've been keeping her up," Steve says smugly. 

"He still making you read that King book? The Gunslinger?" Jonathan asks. "Will wants it whenever you're done." 

"Every night," you say. 

You're pretending it's a chore because that's what you and Steve always used to do. These days room for sincerity is much larger, but it's fun to give him a hard time when, at the end of the day, you'll crawl into bed together and tuck his face into your neck, flipping to the dog-eared page of your worn paperback to read in dulcet tones until he's a dozing weight warming your skin.

Steve looks for your hand under the table and lets your small group of friends laugh at him. Chris makes a whipping sound through the corner of his mouth. It's surprisingly accurate, and it makes you laugh worse, leaning your weight into Steve's arm for support in an action so familiar it's entirely thoughtless. 

"It's not that funny," he murmurs, breath tickling your forehead. 

"M'not laughing," you say. 

You are most definitely laughing. It's a good moment, even if Vanessa's comment sticks around underneath to nibble at your heart. 

He doesn't let your hand go for a really long time. Not when you're taking the plates up to the dirty dishes trolley, or on the walk back to Little Hawkins' with everybody in high spirits. He struggles to unlock your door one handed and he's still insisting when you try to tug away from him. 

"Let me make the bed." 

"We're getting back in 'n like, ten minutes." 

"You're tired?" you ask. 

"No. I just wanna lay down with you." 

He says it simply. Concise, with neither affection nor anything less. It's damn near factual. Steve just wants to lay down with you, out of everything in the world he could do. He could be haunting Robin's room, stealing snacks from under her bed and claiming them as bribes for not tattling on her to Hopper. He could be with Dustin in the new rec room —aptly labelled Nerd Club, when put to a vote— arguing on how to spend the valuable alloted half hour of TV time. 

He could stay with you and insist on other things. Reading. Self-defence. A walk around the community. Sex. An early night. A cold shower. 

But he's content to lay with you, to share one another's space without asking for anything else. 

Though you won't rule everything out. His kisses lately are a lot more than you're used to. 

"Let my hand go, you fiend!" you declare, overcome with a rush of affection for him. "I'm gonna make the bed and we're gonna lay down and then after that we're gonna go bother Robin." 

"You know, I'm not sure I like this you and Robin thing." 

You tug your fingers from his. It's like trying to escape a sticky fly trap. 

"You mean us being friends?" you ask.

You throw all of your throws and pillows onto the ground and grab your thick quilt, shaking it out over your mattress as Steve groans. 

"Exactly!" 

"I thought you wanted me to have friends?" 

"Of course I do, you word-twisting douche." 

"Nice, nice. Dustin or Mike?" 

"I stole that one from Will, thank you very much." 

"See! You have upwards of four friends, Steve, and I'm not allowed to have any?" 

He grabs you from behind. You drop the quilt with a sigh, going limp as a fish in his arms. He staggers backward under your dead weight but manages to keep you up, breath tickling the inside of your ear as he says, "No, you're not. Just me." He kisses your ear.

"I tried that and everyone got mad at me." 

"No, they didn't." 

They really didn't. You cover his arm with your fingers, rub your fingertips over the hill of his arm. His arm hair is soft. 

"Steve." 

"What?" he asks, his hands crawling down to cover your stomach.

"Don't squeeze me." 

"You're very squeezable." 

"I was way more squeezable before, remember." 

You'd lost some weight from the start of the apocalypse to now. Steve hates it. You're perfect, he'd said once, no matter what. But still, he laments your lost weight for what it represents — times where you and he had struggled to survive. 

"I'm working on that," he promises. 

You turn your face, shifting in the circle of his arms to meet his eyes. He has gorgeous eyes. You'd admitted that to yourself a long time ago but each time you really stare into them it takes a moment for it to settle. He is a pretty, pretty boy.

He's looking at you with a soft smile. Then, for a split second, you swear his eyes rove up to your brows. It's more than likely your imagination.  

"Let me finish making this bed," you say, turning back to the discarded pile of pillows and blankets. 

"You want your jammies?" 

You snort happily. "Yeah, sweetheart. Lay 'em out for me, please." 

—

For the last week or two, Steve has noticed a change in you. You've changed a lot since you met him (for the second time). You've gone from prickly and distant and somewhat distracted to determined, vigilant. You may not come on scrounging missions outside but you're brave, and you've survived more than he ever wanted you to have to go through. 

This change is distinctive. It's like you've reverted to how you acted when you were more friend than girlfriend; you're self conscious. 

He really hates it. 

He can't work out what he did, or what happened, but it sucks. He sucks. 

"There has be be something you want," he says. 

You're standing with him by the south fence. He and his team are about to head out for the shopping mall for as many blankets as they can carry. 

"I just want you to be careful," you say. 

You look tired. It's early in the morning, and you'd woken up earlier still. Your hair is freshly washed from a cold shower. 

You're still not comfortable showering without him, but of course the other girls aren't comfortable with him sitting in there when they're naked. You've had to schedule your showers for the dawn hour. 

"I'm gonna be careful for free," he says, pulling at a wet strand of your hair. He scratches lightly around your ear before hooking his fingers underneath it, his thumb drawing from your cheek to your lips. "Pick something you want and I'll find it. You know, Robs said we might be able to pass by a real small cherry garden on the way home. Do you–" He should know this. Why doesn't he know this? "Do you like cherries?" 

Thankfully, you laugh at his question and let your face fall into his hand. He thumbs your ear lobe gently. 

"I don't want anything at all. 'Cept for you to be extremely careful," you say. 

He pulls you in for a hug, smashes a messy kiss to your head, and tries to pull away because he's cool and the guys are watching. 

You're less quick. You rub your cheek against his chest. 

"Please, Steve," you whisper. 

He frowns. There's something you're not telling him. He wishes you would, but clearly you don't think you can. He's gonna try to do whatever it is he needs to do to get you there.

Steve takes your face into both hands. 

"I will be super careful, dummy. That's my middle name, I'm Steve Careful Harrington," he says. 

"I thought your middle name was Danger?" 

He kisses you. "No? Who told you that?" 

Your laugh is pretty enough to keep him smiling for most of the hike to the mall, until Robin says, mid sentence, "–Jeez, you're pathetic." 

Pathetic for you is something he doesn't necessarily mind being, but pathetic in general he cannot abide. He spends the rest of the hike stepping on the sides of Robin's shoes as she retells the plot of Murder on the Orient Express. Steve had seen the movie once but he's never read the original novel. Lucky him, Robin had an Agatha Christie phase when she was twelve, and she knows all the best parts. 

Hike is a strange word considering all of their walking is through steep roads. They move past rundown cars, streets and streets of abandoned houses scraped clean. There's an elementary school with a rusted playground in front. Vegetation has already started to spread through the packed wood chip flooring, and one of the swings has a broken chain. Steve hadn't realised how quickly human things fell into disrepair when attacked by the elements and left maintenance. 

The mall is a better example. Smashed glass lays around the entrance in tiny pieces like a huge back of upturned sugar, and bluegrass eats its way between paving stones. The team consists of eight people, including Steve, Robin, Christopher, and one of the College's co-leaders, a mister Jeremy Livingstone. They make their way carefully through the glass and grass in a wave of crunching footsteps to the front of the mall, where Steve wedges the flat blade of his knife between the automatic doors and works them open. When there's enough room for a second hand, Chris slides in beside him, and they work the doors open. Steve's biceps are burning by the time they're inside the mall. 

"Alright, guys," Jeremy says. "There's a bedding store toward the back of the mall. We'll go there first, and then we'll try to work through the list of requests. Blankets and sheets are our second priority. Staying safe and alive is first. Only grab what you know you can carry, you can bring back whatever you want, just… don't be greedy. Alright?"

They head out for the bedding store at the back.

"How much stuff can we carry?" Robin asks him. "I have weak arms. I'm a weakling." 

"Isn't there uh, a fancy storage place? We could drag a suitcase back." 

"For two hours?" 

"Is it two hours? Livingstone! You want me and Robin to grab some suitcases?" 

Everybody fills a suitcase with sheets and blankets in plastic wrap. The brand new stuff feels like a luxury, and Steve dibs a double mattress bedspread made of Egyptian cotton, knowing that'll make you smile. Now he's got your mattress up on those crates from behind the cafeteria, your room has really come together. Blankets and trinkets and sweet glassware. You have a small shelf of books, your clothes, your pens and pencils. 

Steve'll bring you anything you want, only you don't seem to want anything at all. 

He'll just… have to bring you some of everything. 

—

Your tears taste salty. You feel gross for licking a tear off of your top lip but nobody's around to see you do it; Steve might not be home until dark. You have time to get this upset out of your system. 

You'd been asked by Maybelle to swing by Armoury and Amenities, an unofficial name for the building where the community keeps the bulk of its collective resources, for a new propane tank. You'd gone inside, said hi to Cooper, said hi to Vanessa, explained why you needed the propane, and left. 

Or, you'd tried to leave. The propane tank was heavy, and the front door had been difficult to open one handed. You'd swung it open, quickly put your hand back on the tank to stop yourself from dropping it, and watched in frustration as the door slammed closed before you could worm your way out.

"She's the one who got, like, taken?" came Cooper's voice, pretty much as soon as the door stopped bouncing. His voice echoed from the next room.

"Sure, taken." 

You'd stilled instantly. 

"What, you think she wanted to go?" 

Vanessa sighed. "No, I don't think so. She didn't try very hard to come back, s'all I'm saying." 

"Chris says Harrington's infatuated with her. Like he's under a spell," Cooper said, chuckling.

"It's gotta be some kind of magic, she's… Well, God knows he'd have his pick if he came back to reality. You have the catalogue? I wanna note the propane before I forget." 

And that had been that. 

You don't understand why Steve loves you, sometimes. You know he does. It isn't up for questioning. Love with Steve is a lot of things — long talks in the mornings about anything and everything, his fingers tucking your shirt into your jeans. It's him pulling your hood over your eyes whenever he's behind you and laughing when you grumble. It's hiding in places you shouldn't be, hand in hand. It's miles of Indiana highway. It's heart-racing anxiety that one of you might not make it to the end. Love with Steve is a devotion: he takes care of you. He's taken care of you ever since you met. 

You haven't stopped to wonder if you deserve it in a long time. 

I don't, you think, half tears and all heartbreak. You don't deserve it. You don't deserve Steve. He's too good, the kind of good that starts life in the marrow of bones. He's sweet and soft-handed with a softer heart. He looks like a dream, and it shouldn't matter but it does. His voice is the only one you like waking up to, his lips hovering by the shell of your ear. 

Time to get up, dummy. Rise and shine, angel. Baby, come on. We slept in, loser, and you need to get dressed. Hey, are you listening to me? I miss you, wake up. 

"Y/N?" Steve asks, trying the handle. 

You flinch hard, and your heart jumps with you. A flip flop somersault feeling in your chest that plummets to your stomach. You scratch madly at your cheeks with two woollen sleeves and stand up as he opens the door. 

"Hey," Steve says, and he's safe, he's alive and well and home again. 

He stands in the doorway with a bulging rucksack on his back, windbreaker zipped tight to his neck, hair a windblown mess. His nose is red from the cold and his cheeks are ice-bitten, though the colour is coming back to his skin slowly. 

You don't feel as though you deserve him but you can't help yourself from springing into his chest, arms around his waist before he can blink. Before he can see the wet mess of your face, and your tear swollen eyes. 

"Hey," he says again, leaning a great deal of his weight over your shoulders. He sniffs your hair. "Hey  dummy. Told you I'd get home fine, huh?" 

You try not to breathe too loudly against his chest. The fabric of his coat is stiff and cold, a contrast to your heated skin. 

"Hey," he says, for a third time. This time it's all powdered sugar soft. Concern and exhaustion wrapped together. "I know, I'm sorry it took longer than usual. It's my fault, I wanted to get you something 'n' I made us all late coming home, I know you worry."

You don't answer again. You don't know how to explain it to him. You can barely understand it yourself. You cling to him and his solid mass until he gives in, his mouth pressed to your temple, his arms tightening behind your head. He shields you from the world for a handful of long, stolen minutes. There's nothing but his hugs, no sound to battle the plastic sounds of his windbreaker or the blood rushing between your ears. 

"I didn't mean to worry you," he murmurs.

You don't trust your voice to come out whole. 

He freezes under your touch. A slow hardening. His hands pause where they'd been rubbing short, featherlight lines. 

"I'm sorry," you say, enthusing your tone with some self-deprecating cheer.  "You're tired, I'm sorry. You wanna sit down." 

"I really do." He laughs. 

You peel away from him, the two of you sheepish and awkward and it's so unlike you, unlike him. You think you've made a fool of yourself as he takes off his rucksack, laying it carefully on the floor by the bed as you turn to your shared dresser and rummage through the top drawer for some clean clothes for him to take when he showers. 

You've freaked him out, and he thinks you're a weirdo, and he's gonna realise you don't deserve him and you never could. You're bad at nearly everything, and you're a total slob, and you should've tried harder to get back to him, and it's all your fault. Misery grips you and drags you down hard. It spirals, surface level comments from a shallow, jealous girl, they twist and twist until you feel wrung out and useless. And now Steve's home, and you're–

"Are you mad at me?" Steve asks. 

You wince and face him, his sweatpants pressed to your chest. "What?" 

"You're not talking to me, and you only ever used to do that when you were mad." 

You pass him his sweatpants, clear your throat. "Stevie, I'm not mad at you." 

"Then what's up?" He unzips his windbreaker, keeping his eyes on you. "I know it's something." 

You force yourself to keep a mild smile. You can't think of a lie — you don't want to lie. 

Steve frowns as your face crumples, a large palm leaping to the curve of your neck. 

"What's wrong?" he asks. 

You can't align this Steve with the one you knew in Hawkins. He's so different. Or maybe he isn't different at all, and you're lucky to see the depth of his feelings, the expanse of his goodness and his heart and his secret smile, corners pulled up and eyebrows pushed down just so. It says, You're okay, because we're gonna do this together. The world will keep spinning for us as long as we want it to.

"I had a bad day," you say. 

"Are you sure? I've seen you on some bad days, baby. This doesn't feel like that, you know? And I get that I don't always know what to say, but I promise I wanna know. Whatever it is that's been making you all grumpy." 

His smile glows, his eyebrows rising. His teasing tone toward the end of his reassurance is a lightness you cling to. 

Lately, everything has felt so heavy. 

"I'm worried I don't…" Even attempting to say it has your throat aching. You cover his hand with yours. "Steve, I– I feel bad lately. I feel like I'm bad." 

He shakes his head, strands of his brown hair unsticking to dance in front of his eyes. "You're not bad." 

"I don't deserve you." 

He stares. 

"Being with you now, having you look after me, I didn't deserve you when I met you." A tear gathers in the line of your lashes. "I don't deserve you now. I'm just me, I'm useless, and you don't have to be with me and I've," —you take in a shuddering breath, and step away from Steve's hand— "been trying to work out why you're still with me and it doesn't make sense. Why do you stay with me?" 

"That's a stupid question," he says. 

You try to swallow a lump. It stays right there in your throat. 

"I got a policy against stupid questions, remember?" 

"Steve…" 

He cuts you off, tangling his fingers with yours, and easing you close until his breath is warming your lips and you can see the honey-browns that circle his pupils. They feel bigger the longer you look at them. 

"How can you ask me that?" he says gently. "You know how much I love you… Right?" 

You nod and knuckle a tear off of your cheek. "I know," you say, and you're crying now, little bubbling sobs that wobble your shoulders. 

"Listen, if I haven't been showing it I'm sorry, and I'll prove it to you. I don't want you to question it."

"It's not you," you say, pressing your forehead to his collar, craving his comfort so much that you don't care if you don't deserve it. 

"Everybody knows that line is a lie," he says.

"I'm not lying. Everybody knows I'm the part that doesn't fit." 

"Who's everybody?" 

You try to backtrack and pull away, but Steve won't let you this time. "I'm just having a bad day," you say, "and you've had a long one–" 

"Stop it." Steve looks at you seriously. He takes your face into both hands, like he always does when he's worried. "I don't care if I crawled home with two broken arms, loser. I gotta know what's wrong. All of it. And you need to tell me." 

He thumbs at your damp cheeks. 

"Okay," you mumble, embarrassed and relieved at once. "I'll tell you."

You insist that he take his shoes off and stretch out in bed even though he's got dirty jeans on, and he doesn't wanna get your nest of throw blankets dirty, so he peels out of them and sits in his boxers at the top of the bed. You slide in next to him, and he works his arm over your shoulder, and you cry like a baby when he calls you honey under his breath. 

—

"And these are for you, too," Steve says, pulling a slightly smushed box of cherries from the bottom of his rucksack. 

You look beautiful. Afternoon sunlight drips in from a crack in the curtains, kissing up and down your smiling cheeks. Your eyes are still puffy, but your smile hasn't moved all morning. 

"You didn't get anything for yourself?" you ask, though any outrage for him you harbour is hidden by your awe. "I don't remember the last time we got fresh fruit, and you didn't even put them at the top of the bag." 

"You're such a whiner. Just try one." 

Your fingers play delicately over the punnet of cherries. The cherry garden had had a lot of supplies left to 'borrow', and after a sickly half an hour of him and Robin staining their teeth, he'd managed to grab a perfect box's worth for you. Perfect before they got squished, that is. 

"You should have the first one," you say.

"No," he says, and shoves the box at your calf. "They're for you. If you like them, I want you to eat all of them and throw up like a godzilla." 

"Not sure you're remembering that movie right," you murmur, plucking one of the cherries out of the box. 

You bite into the cherry and your eyes screw up. "Oh wow, that's sour. I don't…" You finish chewing, and Steve is rocketed to cloud nine when you go in for a second cherry, and then a third. 

Last night had been tough. Steve spent a long time talking you down from what'd been sewn into your head, and he'd pulled the truth from you in strings. Vanessa had been cruel to you on more than one occasion now, which Steve had known but not to the full extent, and her last comment had been too much. Steve, unapologetically, hates her. 

But Vanessa isn't the sole problem. 

You're having a really hard time. All of this has been so much for you. It is, in Robin's words, the fucking apocalypse, and between nearly starving to death and all the shitty things that have happened to you, he isn't surprised to find you're fragile. And he doesn't say fragile, meaning weak. He doesn't know a lot about the world but he knows the human brain and body isn't built for this. You're his girl, and you're hurting, and while he knows objectively this isn't his fault, he vows to do a better job at protecting you. 

He won't fail you again. He can't. 

He watches cherry juice escape out of the corner of your mouth. 

"You're cute," he says. "Where's the disposable? Pass it over." 

"You are not taking a photo of me right now, baby." 

"You look beautiful." 

"When will we ever get the photos developed, anyway?" you say, laughing, kissing juice off of your fingertips. 

He leaps for the camera and tussles you when you fight back. You laugh and lose, weak with giggles as he holds you away, his fingers pressing into the soft plush of your waist. 

"Jonathan does all of that stuff," Steve says knowingly. 

He gives you a little shove. You cover your face with your hands, words muffled, "Thought the camera was for me?" 

"We're sharers. We share things. Look, if you don't smile for me I'm gonna take a picture of you in your underwear." 

You throw your hands over your lap and he snaps a photo of your shy face. 

"Shithead fucking pervert," you say. 

Steve knows he's off the hook when you laugh. 

He's gonna give Vanessa the coldest shoulder anyone has ever given, and if she were a guy Steve would defend your honour in a more physical manner. He'd suggested a verbal defence last night but you'd begged him to never, ever bring any of it up to Vanessa or your friends. It startled him —you have nothing to be ashamed of— but he'd agreed. Whatever's gonna make you happy is, perhaps cornily, what he wants to do.

Right now, making you happy is gifts on the floor of your tiny shared bedroom, pantsless but, fascinatingly, with socks. He points the camera at your ankles.

You grab the new blanket he'd given you and drape it over your legs. "Pervert," you reiterate. 

He puts down the camera. 

"Not my fault they made you perfect." 

"Who's they?" 

Steve shrugs, and can't keep the smirk off of his face as he says, "They made every damn inch of you perfect, especially but not limited to your pretty eyebrows." 

Your smile settles into something more timid. You push your hill of gifts aside, careful not to spill your cherries, and walk the short distance on knees to wrap your arms around his neck. Your face fits into the curve of his neck exactly the way it always will. His hand cups your lower back. 

"Love you, Harrington," you say. 

"How much? 'Nough to let me have some of the cherries?" 

You shake your head gently, the tip of your nose bumping his Adam's apple. "No…" you say apprehensively. 

"No? You don't wanna share with me?" 

"No." Your mumbling is adorable. Steve wants to eat you alive, or at the very least kiss you until you turn to jelly in his arms. 

If he starts now, he can be done by dinner. 

"Five seconds to change your mind. After that I'm taking all of them by force. Five, four, three…" 

You shriek, and even your shrieking  is a sound he wants to hear. You drop away from him and grab the cherries, cornering yourself too fast as you stagger to your feet and hide by the desk. Shoulders against the cabinet, you grab up one of your rare books like a shield, and you glare at him over the cover. 

"You said they were for me!" you say, real panic in your voice. You know from experience Steve will tickle you until you can't breathe.

"They are for you! I love you," he says, words dripping with a false sincerity (though he loves you, undeniably). "I'm just trying to help you, sweetheart. You don't want my help?" 

"You keep your help away from me, beast." 

It doesn't take him nearly as long as he'd thought to melt you. He tickles you, and he steals a handful of your precious cherries, and when he kisses you dizzy it leaves red-pink splotches over the column of your neck, his smile temporarily printed into your skin. 

—

ty for reading <3 I hope you enjoyed, and if you did pls consider reblogging <3<3

[meowww-ffxiv]

Thinking about Liios and Estinien again. 😩

.

At the end of long days fighting, Estinien allowed Liios to help him doff his armor.

What was usually the work asked of a squire meant something else entirely when your equal was the one to do it for you, and Liios performed the task with a quiet devotion that made Estinien's heart ache with some unnamed, fierce emotion that had taken up residence in his ribcage for years.

First his gauntlets, then greaves, then the pauldrons, then the chest plate and tassets. Liios lifted them from him, unbuckling the belts and pulling them free with efficiency born of familiarity. He had gotten used to this new armor very quickly, Estinien thought. Though he had also been quick to learn with his old ones, the one stained with Nidhogg's blood, that was his undoing.

The pieces were mounted on the armor rack reserved for them. Liios looked them over with a craftsman's eye, cataloging the nicks and tears to fix. Then he returned to help Estinien out of his tabard, until he was unencumbered enough to do the rest himself.

While Estinien changed out of the sweat-soaked shirt for a fresh one, Liios rummaged for his toolkit and some alkahest. The usual repairs could be carried out with dark-matter crystals, but Estinien understood that the infrequent application of alkahests and solvents kept equipment as effective as when they were first made...

...when done by skilled hands.

If it had been anyone else, even if it was the Ishgardian masters of the forges themselves, Estinien would have yanked back the armor. Passed to him by Hraesvelgr, there was no way he could take such a risk with it. Even now he watched from across the room as Liios emptied the solutions and solvents into bowls, watched as he picked up the tools and crystals.

And only kept watching, as Liios mended first the chips and tears, then coated them. The movements were the same as they had been the last three times Liios had done it for him, months apart, so precise and regular Estinien could be certain they did not change between applications.

He did it in the same order as he had taken them off Estinien. Gauntlets, greaves, pauldrons, chest plate, tassets. The leather parts required a different solution, though Liios didn't reach for it. Instead he tested them, seemingly found them satisfactory, and set them aside in a moment.

Estinien left him to it, so he could go wash his face and the blood and Void dust out of his hair. When he returned, two chilled goblets of mint-flavored drinks in hands, Liios had finished.

Iceheart wore her challenges well, not unlike the woman Estinien had named the suit of armor after. She would never have the handsomeness of new steel, as she had seen battle even before the Dragonsong War, but as Estinien stood there and studied her, he felt the satisfying certainty of knowing she would bear him through several more decades yet. Perhaps even beyond it.

Liios, still seated at the table and now cleaning up his array of tools, looked up at him. He inclined his head in wordless request for his opinion, and Estinien nodded.

He put the drinks on the table where it had been cleared, and kissed Liios's cheek as he took the seat next to him. His not-lover hummed, long eyelashes fluttering as he returned the kiss with one of his own, then another one on Estinien's jaw, as was their habit.

They clacked their goblets together in silent cheer and relief at the end of another day, and drank.

[queenseowon]

"Colors of Bang Yongguk Tour" Fan Account - Oakland, CA (230616)

It’s been 2 days since I saw Yongguk live and he’s truly been on my mind non-stop for the last 48 hours. :’) 

>>Personal “Origin” Story<< Since B.A.P debuted and were active during my high school and college years, unfortunately I never had the money (or time) to be able to attend any of their concerts. When I saw that Yongguk was going on tour, I didn’t know what to think -- I’ve been in and out of my “kpop phase” for the last 12 years, and the only group that I consistently stanned throughout that time was BTS. All of my friends are either newer kpop fans or strictly girl group fans so I knew I’d be going to this concert alone, but ultimately I knew it wouldn’t be a big deal as I’ve gone solo to many concerts in the past. I saw the (shockingly) low price of the ticket and the venue being so nostalgic (I partied a decent amount at The New Parish pre-COVID lol) so I bought my ticket happily in May. The excitement did nothing but grow overtime.

I’ve been thinking about how many BABYz used to write fan accounts during fan signings/concerts waaay back in the day (if you were on Tumblr during 2012-2014, you’ll know what I mean). I remember being a teenager discovering kpop for the first time, having B.A.P be the first group where I started stanning since debut, learned every member’s name, kept up with releases on the daily, had Yongguk become my first “ult bias” (before I even knew what that was) and “fan’d” my heart out every comeback on Tumblr. I wanted to write a fan account to remember this concert but also hopefully share it with other long-time BABYz who are feeling nostalgic!

>>Going solo to the concert<< As (somewhat) expected, I met some amazing people in line as well as inside the venue who were also attending the concert solo! For me, I love hearing about how others got into stanning a certain musician or group as well as their favorite(s) song(s). As someone who didn’t grow up with other “kpop friends”, it felt so surreal to think that there were others like me 10+ years ago fully enjoying the same music, and having that musician tie everyone together now one decade later. Sometimes I get anxious in crowds and especially with strangers, but I did not feel that way for even a minute before, during, and after the concert. Maybe it’s a mix of the Bay Area/California and long-time BABY vibes. (Also fun sidenote: some people and I were comparing our tattoos in line and we said “Okay now it’s time for Yongguk to do a tattoo tour. Show the chest piece pls” -- So when Yongguk came out in that button-up shirt with only two buttons buttoned and his chest tattoo on full display… I need y’all to know we manifested that for everyone’s benefit. 😩🫡)

>>REACTION TO THE CONCERT & SONGS<< I’m not sure how long people were lined up for, but I arrived around 5PM (doors opened at 6PM and the concert started at 7PM) and I ended up standing to the right of the stage (Yongguk’s left) in the second/third-ish row right next to the speakers with an amazing up close view the entire night. (In hindsight, I should have remembered to bring my ear plugs because I’m not as young as I used to be and should probably take better care of my eardrums and hearing lol). Also, as I mentioned before, I knew the venue relatively well so I knew to go to the side closer to the stage rather than standing several rows back in the middle even if it meant having not as wide of a view of the stage. The person next to me and I were super excited because our angle meant we were going to be able to see the minute Yongguk appeared from off stage and onto the stage. 

Although normally I do not listen to the setlist of artists before their concerts, I hadn’t listened to Yongguk consistently in years so I did look up the setlist and made my own Spotify playlist to get myself hyped up and ready to sing along. As soon as Yongguk came out, I feel like I metaphorically blacked out for the first couple songs (GMT, Up, Race) because I did not remember those performances until I watched others’ fancams. I think I came to my senses during “Rain on Me” because that is THE twerk anthem. The sex appeal and confidence from him from the start of the concert (and especially during “Rain on Me”) was no joke. I feel like my jaw was probably embarrassingly dropped wide open for all of the first songs. There’s also something feral that awakes inside me everytime he says “you never fucking know” and the chorus of “UFO” starts then his voice DROPS a register as he starts rapping and hearing that live??? I was transported to another dimension.

When he started singing “Hikikomori” then went into “I Remember” I think it was then I realized he was doing this tour for us -- for the fans and the BABYz who have been here the whole time (or at least a very long time). As I’m writing this now and reflecting, everything he said during his ments/talks was him just continuously thanking us, telling us how much he loves us, and saying how it’s been “such a long time”. I literally could choke up thinking about it right now how he’s waited just as long as we have.

Yongguk asked the audience to put their phones down so he could make eye contact with every person. And like someone said, “when Bang Yongguk tells you to do something, you do it no questions asked.” Then he started singing “Screwed Up” while literally looking at every corner of the venue, balcony, floor, sidestage -- literally my delulu mind was convinced he was staring and flirting with me too. I lost the “IDGAF if this man notices me” war right then and there. (I have yet to find a fancam of “Screwed Up”, which is fair because he told us to put our phones down, but if anyone has a video of him literally making flirty eyes to the entire audience, PLEASE send it to me.) 

Right after “Screwed Up”, he goes into “Green” and at the end said something similar to “I wrote Green so I could sing it with all of my fans one day, so thank you for singing along with me.” and I just about sobbed. 

By “Ride or Die” and “YA” he is fully body rolling everywhere on stage, flirting with every single person in the audience, and everyone is losing their minds (including me).

Also at some point during the show he started sending so many air kisses to everyone. He also would be (seemingly) speechless in between sets and just repeated “wow… woah…” and kept showing his gummy smile 😭 The cheers were so loud inside the venue sometimes my ears were ringing just from the crowd singing and screaming so I wonder if he was in awe or wasn’t expecting that? (Even though he deserves all the love!)

Then at some point the crowd started chanting “take it off” (meaning his shirt that was truly barely hanging onto him) and he gets SHY and kept asking “Why?” -- I just don’t understand how someone can go from biting his shirt, flirting with the entire audience, body rolling nonstop on stage, to a completely genuine “I’m so shy” cute smiley lil baby. He was so cute I could barely process him going from rapping his lungs out to “uwu vibes” in the matter of seconds and the only single thought my single braincell had was “so cute so cute so cute”. Yongguk is truly the duality of mankind. (He did eventually give one more ab flash [in addition to his “tattoo sticker” promo shirt lifting] so you can find that photo floating around on social media.)

He threw water (from bottles he drank out of) into the crowd twice during “OFF” and “YAMAKAZI” and I have never been happier to be blessed with holy water. I think “OFF” is my favorite hype song in recent years so I absolutely loved hearing that live -- despite it being toward the second half of the show, his energy never stopped and the crowd’s energy also kept getting more and more hyped.

Towards the end Yongguk said, “Although tonight is the last U.S. stop for the tour, it’s not a goodbye. I promise to come back… I’ve said this all tour, but as much as you all love me, please also love yourself.” Before starting “Orange Drive”, Yongguk dedicated the song to his fans and his grandfather in heaven. Then during the encore, alongside the usual “Xie Xie” and “See You Later” he also sang “Ride or Die” one more time and did a lot of fanservice. 

His marketing worked because all the merch was soldout after the show, but I was able to snag the "tattoo sticker" sheet just like he suggested :') -- I am lowkey glad I was unable to get a meet & greet ticket because I feel like I was already internally combusting at the thought of having to meet him and take a selfie after the concert, so if it actually happened I probably would've externally exploded.

ALSO -- This man’s stamina is no joke though because he really kept going for a full 1.5 hours and jumping around on stage with minimal “ments/talking” in between songs. If this hadn’t been the last stop on his tour, I would have definitely considered attending another stop. If I had known how amazing of a performer he was and how great the energy would be to hear everything live (from him and the crowd), I would’ve balled out and gone to the LA stop the day before.

>>FUTURE?<< Yongguk promised he would release another album in the future and go on tour once again. Though none of us know when that will be, I know I will wait with anticipation for this experience to happen again (and again if he and/or other B.A.P members decide to tour). The combined elements of a small venue, love from BABYz and Yongguk, and seeing someone I feel like grew up alongside me is something that I won’t ever have the right words to describe, but can only feel. Thank you for taking the time to read my reflections and ramblings~

If you want to be mutuals, I’m on twitter @ queenseowon <3

[wisemins]

saw the ask game you reblogged. I got excited and picked 3 (they all looked so cool😩). asking about ur ship with giyuu but if u wanna talk about any other ships that's fine too.

feel free to do as many as you want (one, all or even none! no pressure)

⚔️ - au time! pick an au of your ship that you have thoughts for and talk about it. if you can't decide, pick it randomly.

⏳ - do you have several timelines in your selfship? if so, describe them. alternatively, do you imagine your selfship in different stages of the relationship?

💌 - any major changes in your selfship lore over time? if so, compare how it used to be with how it's now.

FROTHING AT THE MOUTH TO TALK ABOUT GIYUU MORE TYSMMM FIOASASIOD!!! ⚔️ - au time! pick an au of your ship that you have thoughts for and talk about it. if you can’t decide, pick it randomly.

I love my modern AU with Giyuu!! I think about it probably just as much as our mainline canon. It's just so so sweet and domestic where nothing tragic happens and he and I can just be a happy and have our little family all together <3 And he gets to be a lot sillier (unintentionally, autism moment) than he does in mainline. He's a gym teacher, he loves raisin bread, he's kind of a nerd too! In my mind, he likes little collectibles from his childhood that he never got to have too many of, so now he very passively collects things like trading cards and smaller figurines! He also took up cooking a lot more in my modern AU! He likes reading books about cooking, the history behind different cultures and their cuisine, and practicing making new dishes and teaching me how to as well! It's all just very nice to exist in, and I love coming up with more things to think about with it!

⏳ - do you have several timelines in your selfship? if so, describe them. alternatively, do you imagine your selfship in different stages of the relationship?

I imagine a timeline rather often of me and Giyuu having a child of our own! (Outside of Zenitsu of course, this will always be a situation of giving my son a baby sibling.) I have a name picked out and everything, how he'd look, his personality too! I'm just never sure if I'm gonna canonize it or not. I love the thought of Zenitsu having a baby brother to grow up with for the rest of his teen years, and Giyuu and I getting to experience new parenthood, just getting to grow our family a bit! I'm always torn about it though, because I don't always like having kids in my self ships. Zenitsu is a rare case in that he's never gonna not be my kid in any canon, but he's also a teenager, so it's very much different! I do love Giyuu and I's semi-canonical child though very much, so maybe I'll just have to play around with the idea! And perhaps introduce the little guy to y'all! And I do imagine my selfships in different stages very often! It's always fun to reflect/relive scenarios no matter what period of time the story is taking place or even if I'm making up more that's ongoing/current!

💌 - any major changes in your selfship lore over time? if so, compare how it used to be with how it's now.

In mainline I was so hesitant to be with Giyuu previously! Every early piece of lore was just riddled with uncertainty and insecurity, the not knowing, the second guessing, the avoiding. What really changed it was the comfort factor, at some point it just hit me that Giyuu feels so comfortable, like I've known him and have been with him forever. That sort of love and safety and comfort that you get when you're decades into a relationship. I am still insecure, but that's a me problem. I know he'll always be there for me, but starting out when I f/o'd him, there was just so much insecurity and uncertainty. I was so scared that maybe he wouldn't want to be with someone who had adopted a teenager, especially one that actively feared him OTL (sorry Zenitsu, I know Giyuu can be a bit intimidating sometimes!), or that maybe I wasn't the right person for him because we're rather different. But I realized we compliment each other, and his devotion and love is silent, yet so powerful. We both were insecure little babies at the start, but now we're just so utterly comfortable and in love unabashedly. It's nice!

Thank you so much again!! I appreciate the ask!!

[solarisensun]

That dottore concept has me feelin some type of way 😩

click more for a sneak peek! scholar dottore vs his academic rival fic is in the works <33

Outside, the snow blankets the streets of Snezhnaya as the moon casts its silvery glow beneath. The gentle glow against the harsh, bitter landscape of Snezhnaya paints a captivating picture of a Tevyat’s infamous nation. Few have managed to venture so deep within Snezhnaya to be blessed with a glimpse of its icy landscape. Yet, holed up in the icy castle of the Tsarita, Dottore pays no regard to the beautiful snowy scenery just outside his window. 

It’d been a long long time since he had any regard for the fleeting beauty around him. 

Instead, his bright eyes are feverishly scanning the scroll clutched in his gloved hands as he devours each line and word. Finally, after a whole decade of cold trails and empty leads, he has something to grasp on. The scroll is a raven message from one of his Fatui subordinates whose name he couldn’t be bothered to learn. But the content of the message? That is something that Dottore has been dying to know. 

Upon finishing the message, he sweeps his arm in a wide arc across his cluttered table, sending countless loose papers and pens onto the ground. Nevertheless, Dottore continues to rummage around until he finally gets his hands on a piece of empty paper that isn’t covered in scribbles or colored markings. 

He’s shaking so hard that it takes him several frustrating tries before he can put his pen to paper and write down his reply. The nib of his pen nearly rips a long gash across the paper as Dottore’s mind moves at a speed that his hand had never been quite able to catch up with. And it takes him even longer to calm himself down long enough to seal the envelope and send it on its way. 

As Dottore watches the raven soar into the night sky, its figure is gradually swallowed up by the gray snow, he can’t seem to stop the manic smile that spreads across his face. His fingers tighten around the edge of the window sill when he imagines the future that would come true in just a few days. He laughs, giggles, a little hysterically. 

For the first time in years, Dottore feels as if he’s alive again. 

Finally, the two of you were going to be reunited. 

[foryouthem00n]

since i mean you might be an actual fan of harry if you based a song off keep driving could you do a story based off matilda and the reader is basically rlly upset she has no family and sonny is like you have me. i’m your family and it’s cute sad and soft 🙏😩

also i’m a write who has severe writers block so prepare for many requests bc ur my. new fav

“Family.”

A/N: I’m a huge Harry fan!! I’m so happy that you enjoy my posts and I’d be glad to take any requests that you have!! Also sorry for the wait, life has been kicking my butt lately 😅

-

Matilda, you talk of the pain like it's all alright

But I know that you feel like a piece of you's dead insidе

You showed me a power that is strong еnough to bring sun to the darkest days

It's none of my business, but it's just been on my mind

-

You’ve known Sonny Carisi for almost your whole life. You both grew up in Staten Island, living right next door to each other. The two of you would play outside together as kids, and ride the bus to and from school, side by side. When your family decided to up and move to another state, you were absolutely devastated. What would you do without your best friend? Would you ever see him again?

You endured trauma and abuse from your family all of your life, and when you turned eighteen, you decided to leave them. You moved back to Staten Island, never seeing your parents again. You managed to go to college, get a job, and find yourself a place to live. It wasn’t easy, but you made a new life for yourself. One that was better than before. You were safe and you were free and that’s all that mattered to you.

One morning you went to a cafe nearby to get a coffee and something to eat. As you walked in, you saw a tall man in a gray suit standing in line to order. You thought maybe he looked familiar but you couldn’t tell. You watched as he ordered and took his coffee from the barista, turning around and heading for the door. It was exactly who you thought it was; Sonny Carisi. You could never forget that face, even if it had been decades later since you last saw him.

Sonny noticed you staring at him as he continued to walk towards the door, and he looked confused. You grabbed his arm as he walked past you.

“Hey, wait!”

Sonny stopped and turned to face you, still perplexed. “Uh, yeah?”

“Sonny, it’s me. It’s Y/N. From when we were kids?”

Sonny’s mouth dropped. “Oh my god, Y/N! I can’t believe it!”

Sonny brought you in for a hug before you could say anything else to him. You were so happy to see Sonny after so long. You thought that you’d never see him again.

When Sonny finally released from the hug, he sat down at the nearest table, motioning for you to sit. You did as he wanted and sat down across from him.

“I just can’t believe that we finally found each other. What have you been doing? Where have you been?” Sonny asked.

“I’ve been right here in Staten Island, ever since I turned eighteen.” You told him.

“Why didn’t you tell me or try to find me?”

“I just… didn’t want you to have to deal with all of my baggage..” You muttered.

“Y/N, we were best friends. Why would you think that any of that would matter to me?”

“I don’t know… it’s just not something that I wanted to involve you in.”

“Alright,” Sonny mumbled. “Well, what made you come back?”

“I needed to get away from my parents. I didn’t want to spend one second more than I had to with them. It was time to take control.”

Sonny looked straight into your eyes as he said, “I’m so proud of you for having the courage and strength to leave them.”

You started to tear up. It was nice to hear Sonny say that but a part of you has always felt lonely ever since you came back to Staten Island. You’ve been by yourself the whole time.

“I don’t have anyone anymore.” You spoke softly.

“Y/N, I know that it may feel like that, but you don’t need them. The way that your own parents treated you is unforgivable and they don’t deserve to have you in their lives,” Sonny insisted. “You had me before you left, and you have me now. Hell, you had me after you left too, I just didn’t know where to find you. But now, we have each other again. We’re family.”

You wiped your eyes with your sleeve, a small smile forming on your face. Sonny was everything that you ever needed. He knew just what to say to make everything okay.

“You’re so special to me, Sonny. You always have been. Never leaving my side, being there for me when I needed you. Remember when you’d let me hide in your backyard behind that huge tree to get away from my parents?”

Sonny’s face dropped. “I do, but I hate thinking about it. You shouldn’t have had to hide at all. It’s not right.”

You shrugged. “Things happen.”

“Yeah, well, they shouldn’t have happened. You’re the strongest person I know, Y/N.” Sonny told you as he grabbed your hand from across the table.

You smiled at Sonny. “You mean the world to me, Dom. I’m so glad that we found each other again.”

“You’ll always have me around, Y/N. Forever.”

[onestepbackwards]

Warning: Breeding kink, hybrids being horny (aegean) but with a twist, being sacrificed

Ok so you've heard of hybrid Ingo and Emmet going into heat, now imagine that, but they are both alphas. As we know an alpha pokemon is bigger and stronger than the regular pokemon inhabiting their habitat, which means that they would have plenty of stamina to wreck your guts for hours on end. And considering that there's two of them then expect to not be able to walk for at least two weeks if you're lucky, but they do make it up to you by being there at your every beck and call.

If you're a materialistic person and you love these boys but are disappointed at the lack of jewelry or respect then I've got an idea for you. Let me set the scene for you, you are a poor peasant that's down on their luck. No matter how much you pray life just kicks you to the curb and right now was one of those moments as your name was called out over the seas of anxious people. Your fate was set, you were chosen as this year's sacrifice for the two monstrous deities that terrorized the forest.

The luxurious sandals you had been given clearly weren't made to withstand the terrain that you found yourself in. Despite the hot rays of the sun beaming down on you it was rather cold, could be from the thin whit silky robe they clad you with. It was part of the ritual to appease them and ensure that no harm came to the rest of the village they would say. Although you understood their worry you couldn't help but be petty, they could at least let you keep your undergarments. The air was deathly still, you stood there in the thick forest wondering how your life came to this, and when you listened to your surroundings something hit you. The birds stopped singing a while ago, all life seemed to cease, that's when you knew that you were in their territory, and they were on the hunt.

What happens next is up to you but I like to think that at first you form a friendship with them but not without struggle of course, i mean all your life you've been afraid of them but after a while that blooms into something more. I think it's fun to imagine this small bean scolding Emmet for frightening the villagers after agreeing to visit it because you're homesick. The mayor of the town gawks at the twins' presence, not only because he's afraid but because he genuinely didn't believe that they existed and only used them as an excuse to get rid of people he deemed unworthy. And one of those people was you, and to say that the twins were outraged would be an understatement. They demanded that he personally give the three of you riches and food and if they found out that it was ripped from the hands of people he deemed unworthy as he put it then he can kiss his life goodbye.

😳😳😳 🔞18+🔞

I want Alpha hybrids Ingo and Emmet to wreck my guts for hours on end are you kidding me 😩😩😳😳 Alpha hybrid Ingo and Emmet taking turns fucking you for hours, but making sure to take care of you between each turn. Giving you food and water when needed. They know they are a handful, so they try to take care of you whenever they can. And it's true. If you fuck just one of them, expect not to walk for several days. If both, you won't be walking for AT LEAST a week. Also, what kind of hybrids are we talking?? Is Ingo a Chandalure and Emmet an Eelektross?? Or is Emmet a Galvantula? Are they BOTH Galvantula?? Or are they Legendary hybrids? Either way, they must have a long lifespan if the local town is this terrified of them, and made this tradition, even if it was a more recent one in the last decade. Long enough for the heads of the town to capitalize off of this. I'm just imagining though both are HUGE, just in general as alphas. Like,, im thinking at LEAST 8 feet, if not just,,, straight up 10 feet tall. Not to mention how big their cocks would be... You'll slowly have to get used to their sizes over time. I hope you are prepared for a lot of sex if you ever plan to take their whole cocks in the future. Especially if you ever plan to take both at the same time... I'd imagine they both would cum buckets too... 👉👈 In just one orgasm you'd be COMPLETELY filled. Both would probably lose their minds with how full you look, making them even more horny. I hope you're prepared. Like FUCK do I wanna be filled. I'm down bad. You bring up the sacrifice thing, but it just reminds me of that one comic where like, a werewolf finds a girl chained to a stone slab in a dainty sacrificial dress, and the wolf guy is disgusted, and breaks her chains, and says she's free. Instead she gets all mad, "Do you have ANY idea how long it took to tie myself up." BUT ANYWAY I'd imagine they would be annoyed at first, not wanting strangers wandering their territory. Why are you here? Do you have some sort of death wish? Meanwhile you are in AWE. Sure, you are rightfully terrified. These are the alpha hybrids that will be killing and eating you after all. But they are so stunning. You had never seen anyone more gorgeous than these two. Those piercing silver eyes basically has you shaking. You hoped those heavenly faces would at least be merciful when killing you, and not eat you alive. Their huge forms tower over you, and you silently squirm as they stare you down. When they question why you are in their territory, you feel stunned. You were here for them, were you not? Thankfully, they give you time to answer, relatively patient compared to the ruthless monsters you had grown up hearing about. You explain you are here for them. You were the yearly sacrifice to them. You were here to be killed, or eaten. Or... Whatever else they wanted. You were their toy. Much to your surprise, the two look horrified. Like sure, they are alpha hybrids, and very dangerous and territorial. But they never just hurt people. They don't even eat humans! They explain as such to you, wondering why your town thought as such. How did this happen? Why did your town do this? You blink at them, your whole world practically crashing down. They... weren't going to kill you? Eat you? Use you as a sex toy?

You swallow thickly, before beginning to explain the tradition that started a few decades back. The town is fully aware of the two hybrids. They fear them both, and avoid this part of the forest. The stories go the two will kill and eat anyone who gets close, and have even started demanding yearly sacrifices. The townsfolk are told that if they don't comply with the sacrifices, the two will destroy the town. Whoever isn't initially killed will either be eaten, or taken as a toy. So every year, a bunch of names are put into a box, and someone is 'randomly' chosen. You tell them you've noticed it's always the poor folks, or the people who seem to have made enemies of those in charge that get sent away. If anyone tries to fight back, run away, or come back to the town, they usually are arrested, shunned, and disappear. Presumably sent here in chains. After all, shouldn't the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few? How could anyone be so selfish to try and get the town destroyed? Those who are chosen are dressed in these sacrificial robes, with ornate jewelry and sandals. That's all you are given. Not even underwear. After you explain this to them. They are silent for a moment, and you grow nervous at their piercing gazes. It isn't until Ingo starts growling that your stomach drops. Were they upset with you? Were they going to kill you now? Emmet and Ingo's heads snap to you, and you take a step back. In an instant, they stop, and relax, though they are still tense. "We never had any plans or intentions of hurting your town or its people. We only wanted our home to ourselves." Emmet explained, his chilling grin extra tight. Ingo nodded. "We don't even eat humans! Sure, we don't want them around needlessly on our land, but we would never go around hurting them!" Ingo assured you. You blinked. "So... What happened to the last sacrifices?" you asked, more confused than ever. Both twins shared a look, before looking back at you. "We don't know." Turns out they aren't the only ones in the forest. They are the strongest in the forest, sure, and have the most territory, but they are far from the only ones calling it a home. It was entirely possible the last sacrifices either ran away, became lost and died, or were found by wild pokemon or other hybrids. You swallowed. So you had just gotten lucky to have found them first. You looked down, and clenched your fists. What now? You obviously couldn't return to the town. Since these two weren't killing humans, you didn't want to think what would happen to you if you went back. You could try running away, you supposed, but the idea of something happening to you like the other sacrifices popped in your mind, and you felt sick. You were still going to die, even if these two weren't going to kill you. You felt tears begin to prick, and you looked away. You had to leave. You weren't welcome anyway, seeing as they didn't want humans on their land.

"I... I guess I'll be leaving then. Thank you for not killing me." You said with a bow, and turned to walk away. "Where will you go?" You heard the white twin ask. You stopped, and fought to keep the tears from falling. "I don't know." you responded. You felt a clawed hand land on your shoulder, and you flinched. Looking back, the dark twin was towering over you. You could have sworn that despite his frowning face, he looked concerned. "Please, allow us to help you." You gazed at him, shock and confusion prominent on your features. "You have no where else to go. If you leave our territory, you will no doubt be killed." The truth stung, but you let him continue. "You have been done a great disservice! Your town intended to kill you! We don't normally want strangers on our land, but please, let us help you." The tears in your eyes began to fall. They wanted to help you? "Yes! Let us take care of you." The smiling one said, and you stared at both of them in awe. After that, you agreed to let them take you in, though you weren't sure if this was a dream or not. Meanwhile, Ingo and Emmet were feeling lots of things. Anger and disgust for one. How could the small town in the forest do something so horrific? In their name? And then there was you. You. You were, by their standards, incredibly cute. You were so small! Emmet just wanted to scoop you up and twirl you around! Ingo wanted to hold you tight, protect you from danger. The moment they laid eyes on you, their instincts were screaming at them. You would be an amazing mate. You were gorgeous, and that robe and jewelry made you look amazing. Not to mention your scent... It was intoxicating. It made their instinct to claim you difficult to ignore. You mentioned not even being given undergarments, and Emmet nearly went feral at the thought. They just had to do something about that town of yours... Perhaps since they were seen as deities, then maybe they can use such authority on your former home. They looked over you fondly as they showed you their cabin they had build years ago, and showed you a room you could stay in. You looked so adorable... Now all they had to do was wait for you to get comfortable, before beginning to court you. Perhaps they could do something about that town as their first gift towards you...

[dazaiaiko]

i don’t know if your request are open but if they are can you pleaseee write hcs with dazai and his s/o getting married plss!!

Hey anon thanks for requesting, I had a severe brain rot while writing this hence the delay! Enjoy your 📖 😩🥰 stay safe and hydrated

Congratulations on marrying Dazai!!

The night before the wedding he won’t be able to sleep, why? because you both had made a "pact" to not kiss or touch each other from a month before the wedding so that your wedding kiss becomes extra special~

This touch starved man was swimming in dreams about the next day, holding you in his arms for the first time in a decade, kissing you after an eternity (it only felt like that to him) and most of all becoming one for life.

The fact that you both had a competition about who would write the best wedding vow also deprived him of sleep. He had been working on it for the past three weeks but nothing seemed to complement the importance of the occasion which would stay in his memory for life.

How was he supposed to let his already perfect wife (geez what’s the hurry?!) know how much fortunate he is to be able to be her groom!

Chuckling giddily to himself he just looked at your picture on his desk. It was a picture of you wearing a yukata and holding a bag full of little fishes you had caught last year at the festival. And to think this beautiful angel was about to be his and he was about to be hers tomorrow made him smile involuntarily.

Nothing seemed to ruin his mood anymore not even Kunikida’s constant nagging about him needing his beauty sleep before the wedding and following the schedule second to second.

After god knows how many blood vessels that were sacrificed, he finally lay down on the bed while looking at the stars through his window.

To him you were not the moon, Nope. If you were the moon you would have reduced his whole being to ashes with your light.….you were the stars that filled up the night slowly but steadily, and before the night could even fathom it’s already basking in the light of the stars.

That’s what you were to him, the stars…He was the night sky basking in your light and would do for ages to come.

When morning came so did complicated thoughts and giddy feelings. He could feel butterflies in his stomach all the while fighting off negative thoughts about himself but the happiness today was enough to over-weigh the latter.

Seeing you after a week was truly such a bliss. As he got ready in his white tux (bonus at the end ;D) he keeps imagining how you would look in that white gown you had secretly sent him pics of two nights before. He had smiled quietly at your excitement then.

When he became ready he took one last look at all those crumpled up papers filled with incomplete vows but what use were they of anyway if they couldn't express his feelings fully. He would speak whatever his mind told him to rather than following a piece of paper.

As he proceeded towards the venue of the wedding, an outdoor wedding, he felt as though the heavens themselves were congratulating him on his future by the clear skies and slight cherry blossoms starting in to bud a bit early than other years.

And under them a chair.....reserved for Oda seemed to be so at peace…..it was the only chair which had a Chrysanthemums and carnations kept on it. He had never asked for this arrangement since he thought it would be weird but then he realised it was you, the only person he did not have to voice out his wishes to.

when you had asked what Oda’s favourite flowers were, or his favourite drink and colour it was all for this.

Yup, it was perfect. As time went by he starts to feel nervous. What if he messes up? What if you decide that he is worthless to devote your whole life to? But all those flutter away as he hears the car of the bride stopping at the archway to the wedding.

He takes one last glance at Oda’s chair and stands at the altar waiting for you to enter with the grace you possess and the light you shine.

And there you were, wearing that same gown you had clicked pictures of, light blue in colour which seemed to compete with that of the sky, but it was you who won the match anyway.

You swayed along with the light breeze in the air matching their pace, locking your arms with your father on one side and Fukuzawa san on the other. You were giggling and smiling brightly at every little thing on the way.

The little girl and boy throwing flowers on your path, at the little squirrel that passed by your foot, at Ranpo drooling at the sweets, Yosano already goddamn drunk, Kenji talking to people about various breeds of cows and most of all your husband to be standing at the altar with his hand outstretched for you to hold on to for life.

But oh? He was crying. A single tear slipped through his eyes as he looked at your god like form embracing every single dark entity of his being with such gentleness and benignity being careful to not break him at the same time.

You walked up to him, your own eyes glistening with tears as you took his hands. Your hands on his felt like it was what it was meant to be. His hands were made to fit yours perfectly and oh so gently.

Now he realised what you meant when you made that pact because you wanted this feeling to become this special, this innocent and this imprinting.

The priest smiled at you both as you couldn’t keep your eyes off each other, Everyone sat down as the priest started reciting the wedding speech.

"So do you Dazai Osamu take y/n l/n as your rightful wife till you breathe your last?"

"Just like how the night cannot live without the star’s shine. Just like the moon can’t shine without the sun……I cannot leave her till I breathe my last. Till Death do us apart, I Do."

You smiled at his sincere vow. He had never once looked away from your gaze and you could tell how much love those eyes held for you.

"And do you y/n l/n take Dazai Osamu as your rightful husband till you breathe your last?"

All the vows you had kept written in your mind disappeared as you started speaking your heart. " I will always hold you up whenever you fall down. I will give you all the love that you were deprived of. I will do everything in my power to make sure no harm comes your way. After all a star cannot shine during the day. It needs the night to shine and embrace it with light. So be my night Osamu...Till Death do us apart, I Do.”

And then he kissed you even before the Priest could say the word “kiss”. He kissed you with such passion and love, adoration for you filled his eyes as he held you close for the rest of the night.

You both didn’t need each other to tell whose vow was best because you both knew that together both vows were better than they ever could sound alone.

And then came the dance, the dinner, the congratulating voices, but Dazai couldn’t wait any longer.

And so when everyone was out there celebrating, you both had snuck out to your new home, where what happened next is something the world doesn’t need to know.

The End

Dazai in a tux 😩

CREDIT FOR FANART BELOW: @hichuya from Twitter

(Psst thank you anon💞)

Thank you for the amazing art!! 💞

And this is the wedding dress I meant

Calling ☎️: @nullified-kiss @jessbeinme15 @shinys-bsd-world-1 + taglist for anyone who wants to join.

[dairy-farmer]

Thoughts on soulmate au’s?

YESSSSS 💯💯💯😩😩😩🔥🔥🔥💖💖💖💖!!!!! 100% yes i love the soulmate au's especially if they're riddled with angst and end without a person together!!

i don't typically go for the 'misunderstanding' because that's a razor thin edge to walk between being really good or being comically humiliating for everyone involved.

one thing i love, especially in relation to tim, is how in a soulmate au it would definitly not be straightforward with ANY of the ships:

brutim: he's so much older than tim, he's tim's mentor, and he's just lost his son (jason). i think bruce would be almost angry at his soulmate finally presenting themselves after three decades only for them to appear at probably one of the lowest periods of his life. he definitly wouldn't be in a place to accept tim, and tim wanting to respect his wishes would see that and believe that despite them being soulmates bruce didn't want him. it'd be absolutely ripe with angst too because tim would have a front row seat to seeing bruce continue relations with selina, dance around that whole thing with talia, damian appearing and bruce showing some of the support and love he never showed tim even just as his mentor. jason beating him severely and bruce not even asking how comfortable tim would be being around him, he just welcomed him into the fold. every birthday tim had in the manor was celebrated by alfred (i think of that one comic panel where alfred brought down a cake with lit candles and told tim to make a wish, the smoke got into where bruce was analyzing a sample and he panicked saying something like 'not here! you'll ruin the analysis' and alfred got very annoyed with him).

when bruce was finally in a place where he could process and accept tim was his soulmate (after being rescued from being lost in time due to tim's hardwork) tim has grown a bit...distant. he's realized he's put through all this effort and while he does love bruce and care for him, bruce would likely not do what tim did for him. time maintaining a somewhat distant and professional relationship with bruce when bruce is finally ready to move to something closer and more emotional but now its tim who's not ready and doesn't want to!!!

dicktim: similar but i think he'd be more stuck on tim's age. despite how dick is, i don't think he's a good communicator just like bruce so him saying something like 'this isn't really right or appropriate we're on different levels right now and i think this has to wait' doesn't really happen. so tim sees dick go off with barbara, with kori, with whoever and no one says anything about it. they all tease or are happy for dick and its seems like they're saying that tim should be too. like dick nearly marries kori at one point and still tim is supposed to act...some way. it's not like people don't know they're not soulmates. unintentional or not, dick does treat tim like his backup, his second choice for a partner because he's nice to tim and friendly he treats him like a "brother" but that's it. he never tries to develop deeper feelings for tim even though he knows tim is more invested in him. it's unintentionally cruel on dick's part and him taking away robin is the last straw because he says tim is his equal now but hasn't treated him as such at all. so same situation as before where tim has begun to close off, or only allowing their relationship to be what the other person had intended the whole time.

jaytim: jason being angry about being replaced by tim, i feel he'd be furious at first that tim took his spot as robin, as bruce's son, and as his soulmate. he's definitely not thinking rationally and i think he'd probably have a hard time with admitting that he was in the wrong because part of him doesn't feel like he was.

in tim's eyes he's bound to an asshole, in canon i don't believe he ever truly forgave or even liked jason at all (except new 52) and i feel like it would be the same case here. there's a lot of unease between the two of them not easily resolved and if it's going to be it needs to come from jason's end. to them it would have to come to a decision where they break the bond and serperate completely, going their own ways or they try to make it work. jason opts for the former and so does tim. so they do that. they're "free".

jason's free...so then why does he feel like half of him is gone. turns out there's serious mental and physical backlashes to full on rejecting your soulmate, not your soulmate dying, rejecting them. tim is also not having a good time, but the peace of mind that he's not bound to jason is enough for him to endure it. ----i haven't fully fleshed this one iut but i definitely think there'd be a spark or moment of realization for jason where he has this horrible moment where he's just like willis, hurting his soulmate and getting away with it because it was his soulmate.----

damitim: holds similarities to jason where there's a lot of one-sided antagonism. damian is young and has been told one thing all his life about tim and it was that he was the enemy. i think it'd be hard for him to see him as anything but that for awhole but as damian unlearns and grows there would be potential there; but only if things weren't pushed too far. soulmate damian knowing they're soulmates would definitly push a lot of buttons on purpose like taunting tim about how he'll never love him or how tim is fated to serve him or something. the family, i feel would step in and disapprove but they'd be limited in what they could do because it's a situation between soulmates which in a universe that had them i feel like there'd be an etiquette towards them- mainly that others don't get between arguments between soulmates. so harsh feelings but potential for resolution id damian can develop enough and not cross lines

but YESSS to soulmate au's but most especially to angst filled ones!!!!!!

[secretarykang]

loved all the modern au content with all 3 of them 😩 can we get some headcanons on that

i’m glad you like it! it never crossed my mind to make it into a serious au, here have some hcs i’ve came up with:

devyn and karl are pretty much childhood friends; their families have been friends for decades, like several generations in the past yk

old money babies, their fathers own big businesses together

karl is one year older than devyn (and aurora)

devyn meets aurora while in high school, they don’t attend the same one tho ( i mean devyn attends this stuffy and old private school while aurora a public one, but the schools are in the same area so it made it possible for them to meet)

aurora isn’t a old money babe, more like middle class but is one smart girl

the girls meet at a café, devyn pays for her coffee bc aurora is a few dollars? pounds? (whatever currency you want) short and in desperate need for coffee

now aurora is stubborn and i think might reject the offer but also the need for caffeine is a bit too big so she gives in but promises to pay her back with another coffee so yk it’s a date ;)

they meet the next day after school at the same café and aurora insists on paying for her coffee, spend a couple hours there just to talk and know each other

this becomes some sort of routine, the café becomes their meeting place

a friendship is blooming for sure

devyn just finds her so interesting and refreshing from everyone else around her

slowly starts to hang out more with her and this rises some questions to karl

he asks her who she’s spending time with, devyn tells him about her dear new friend aurora and takes him to finally meet her

goes wrong i’d say? not at the actual meeting bc they wouldn’t cause a scene in front of devyn but both of them make sure to tell devyn their opinion afterwards

aurora considers karl a pompous ass, rude high class son of a bitch that would probably die if he’d be left one minute in the “real world” (thing she still wonders about devyn since she has the same bg and lifestyle as karl)

karl considers aurora as something not worthy of spending time with devyn, not only because of her bg but because of her “mannerism”, “it’s almost insulting for you to be seen with someone like her, love”

poor devyn just tries to make her friends like each other; do they? no, but are decent with one another if they somehow have to spend time together with devyn

the peak in of their friendship is when karl goes to college so devyn is pretty much left with aurora and they spent even more time together

the love triangle is here as well i suppose

no endgame yet

just fun for now

i lq feel as this is an introduction but like put as headcanon? anyway i hope that’s what you wanted anon <3

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Raaaaahhhh!!! Moosh! Please tell me if Rune Factory 5 is worth the hype! I've been replaying 4 while waiting for 5 to release, but I'm still kinda iffy about committing to it 😩

Ok OK OK OK!

I'm about 10ish hours into it so far, so take what I have to say with a grain of salt:

Is rune factory 5 good?

In my opinion, yes despite it having some flaws.

It's not perfect, no game is 100% however, it does have issues like the frame rate drops, throwing items/certain farm mechanics feel a little wonky, how events are handled could be a bit better, the lock on system needs a bit of improvement, furniture placement sucks, and if you get paralysis moving your character becomes unbearable unless you mash the R button to dash where you need to go - this is especially annoying in dungeons.

However looking past those issues I think it has just enough personality as every rune factory game has. I adore the story so far, so far all the characters I've met are extremely memorable, I love and adore all the marriage candidates expect for a certain two; Cecil, I love his character he is very sweet just trying his best but I just don't like him as a marriage candidate and personally I think Terry should've took his place, and the other being Fukka because there's a lot of things I feel are just... questionable about her portrayal in the game and those questionable aspects plays into why I personally don't like her as a marriage candidate either and I'd would've preferred either Elsje or Misagi in her place. The farming and the fighting gameplay like I mentioned has some issues with each like mentioned but after awhile with a learning curve it you do get rather use to it and then it becomes fun once you get out of the first few stages and the ball starts rolling for the grind and you feel like you can actually go out and become quicker with your farm tasks each day/go out in those dungeons and do some dmc type fucking dodging quick attack shenanigans - then it's fun :)

Does it beat rune factory 4?

I knew right when 5 was announced that it would have a very hard time if it wants to one up 4 and I'd be okay if it didn't because rune factory 4 has a special place on me and a ton of other people's heart and its characters, the character interactions, the story, the gameplay, everything is just god tier of what makes that game so special.

So it doesn't surprise me to say, unfortunately no it doesn't beat rune factory 4 and I'd like to say that's okay. Rf4 has so much to it and so much originality to it I'd think I would be impossible to beat it. However, rune factory 5 more than deserves its own standing and it's own hype because it definitely is a game, again even with its flaws and needs of improvement, it's a game I think clearly radiates so much love that was made into it with every piece of dialog and description of every item and character. It's story I can't stress enough, ties back to rune factory 4 so well. There's several mentions of the ending of 4 with the fall of the Sechs empire and how everything with SEED is a direct result of what you (your player character of rf4) defeating Ethelbeard and bringing the runes back I've never felt more continuity in a rune factory game (in my experience of the games I've played) that wasn't just other cameo of characters that maybe serve a small role and it feels so great. And going off that:

Doug and Margaret:

Everything Doug and Margaret say about Selphia makes me fucking cry. And it's explicitly stated several decades have passed, and so far I've seen them mention Porcoline, Dylas, Lest/Frey. And those conversations seem so... hurtful knowing all of them are most likely dead or old while meanwhile Doug and Margaret are still young given dwarf/elf lifespans and them traveling/moving away to avoid seeing all of their old friends start to grow old and die.

They serve a very small role in the game, not required because they only come if you have rf4s save data on your system but I would save if you love rf4 definitely at least play 5 so you can read their conversations.

All and all how would I rate it? 8/10

I think is was worth the wait.

[cozymochi]

Happy birthday/grauduation day/getting-to-see-Sonic-2 day, Cozy!

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU, king 🥺 hope things are going well for u!!

Side plot: SO WHEN I SAW SONIC 2 I unleashed the monster i always knew I was for the last decade + several years…. an overemotional sonic fan. AND AS A PERSON who is extremely familiar with the source material, seeing the game lore be adapted so well has me very in my feelings, and my friend and i kept talking about it even tho it’s only been 1 day. Rip the hype kid next to us having his mom take him away before the post-credits scene dropped

he would have lost his tiny mind 😩😩😩