#i feel really bad that anon just asked one question about one story

[wataeicentric]

Do you have a translation or a summary for the Arashi lgbt story? Sorry but there's a lot of misinfo going on and I want to make sure the Eichi is canonically lgbt is right (I do believe it just dk if it's canon)

I do ! Whenever I make seemingly outrageous claims I always have sources. The "Arashi refers to Eichi, Tori, and herself as "us" when talking about the LGBTQ" comes from the final chapter of Pretty Mission, when they were talking about the legality (or, illegality) of gay marriage in Japan:

The first Eichi quote I used in that post came from Daydream, his section of the Enstars Light Novel:

And the second from EP:Link, Deadend 7 (Or, Chapter 17 overall) the most gorgeous story in the world mostly centring around Wataei's development just before the start of !!-era :3

There are even more stories in which Eichi expresses his love for Wataru, though (in most stories, actually) but the most notable are Milky Way, Jingle Bells, Magnolia, Diner Live, Tempest, That Which Is Reflected In Your Eyes, Fist of the Shangri-La Idol, SS Sanctuary, and the Final SS. And I Can't remember what story it was in, but it's a fun little fact about wataei, Yuzuru has made a point of saying Wataru and Eichi "are together night and day to the point it was a little uncomfortable" for him and Tori, and was surprised when he called Wataru on the phone and they actually weren't together, for once. But, I've gotten distracted from the main point and made a really long post about Wataei again. I'm sorry.

[deoidesign]

Can you make a tutorial on how you world build and make ocs? I can't seem to make any people in my brain, but then when I try to come up with environments jobs, beliefs and little details to slowly come up with someone, I think: well I don't really know how people have influenced the world- it's a weird loop

To be honest, I don't think I can! Writing is an extremely personal process. The way I write is directly related to how I process things, what I find important in stories, years of my own analysis of my and other's writing, etc... The way you write will be unique to you, as well. But I can explain how I personally think of it.

The short answer:

Write. Write anything and everything, it's a tool to explore your ideas. Analyze your own writing, and write more. Then, as you discover which ideas you want to develop, write more to explore them more. You won't know what you want otherwise!

The long answer:

I think this kind of loop is common. It's easy to feel like everything needs to be done "at once," because our job as writers is to make elements logically fit with each other for our readers. But as you've discovered, developing multiple elements simultaneously isn't really possible, or at least is extremely difficult.

Personally, when I think of writing, I break it into three major elements; characters, world, and plot. As much as possible every scene explores one or more of these, and as much as possible these three things tie back into what I personally consider most important: theme.

Everything I do is in service of the themes I want to present. Without them my events feel aimless. It can take a while to discover them, but they're the core of my work. You will have to discover what you feel is the core of yours. Analyzing other media helps with this too.

Concepts in your brain exist in a state of infinite potential. But when you start writing you have to start making choices, which removes potential as you move forward... But you have to move forward anyways. If there's ideas you want to explore later, you can always explore them later.

What this ends up meaning, to answer your question, is that I don't think of my characters as "people in my brain" or my worlds as something people have influenced... Not at their core, at least. They are tools that I use to represent specific ideas. Obviously they're also my blorbos, but mostly they're serving a specific narrative purpose.

So above all else... Write. Write, and discover what you're writing about, and then start over and write with that in mind. Keep doing this. But you have to write!

[dootznbootz]

opinions on helen of sparta being compared to prey animals? blink blink

*blink blinks back* Then immediately sits like this because of the question.

It's a good question that I'm happy to answer! It just makes me mad.... I sincerely hate the wording of "prey" being used to describe her.

SHE IS A VICTIM! THAT DOES NOT MEAN SHE IS "PREY"!

I can...see how people in ancient times may have used that word and still meant it in how she is a victim... but modern-day English-speaking people calling her that??? (considering how in different languages the word "prey" could have different meanings.) I'll just say that as someone who has been "prey" herself at one point, I REALLY hate that word as a descriptor. Just say victim or survivor. 👍

Honestly to call ANY victim "prey" is so fucked up. "Prey" to me, feels like "it's meant to happen." "Prey" are part of the food chain and so that's what happens. And to compare that to abduction and SA? Almost as if "that's our place"? It also kind of implies something being "eaten" or killed... Helen SURVIVES. She's traumatized and definitely needs healing and support but it's not like she can't find joy or peace ever again. Prey just feels so fucking gross.

Also, if someone calls victims "prey", I hope they know that Moose, Elk, Boars, Bovine, ZEBRAS, etc. are technically "prey". And these are VERY aggressive animals while still being "prey" for some other animals. And also that doesn't mean that "Oh, they're powerful! Clearly they should've been able to stop it." That's victim blaming :P

She is a clever, determined, caring woman who was ripped from her home for YEARS because Paris was a dipshit who decided he needed the prettiest woman in the world despite already having a wife. He didn't care about the fact that Helen didn't want to be there and was already married. He is so selfish that he will not let her go back even when THOUSANDS have died in the war! EVEN HIS BROTHER HECTOR AND PRIAM DO NOT BLAME HER! Granted, we do not know if Aphrodite would have let him undo their deal of "I want the prettiest woman" if he DID end up feeling bad for Helen and he wished to let her go home (I doubt it based on his personality though).

"Oh, if she is so independent/strong, then why didn't she just kill Paris and leave?"

AGAIN! Victim blaming!!! First thing, people who ask that have media literacy that is piss on the poor. You also have no idea about the political implications that would have happened if she DID kill Paris. She literally cries about staying there and argues with Aphrodite about seeing Paris, only to get strongarmed by Aphrodite as, guess what? A GODDESS WILL ALWAYS OVERPOWER A DEMIGOD. (This isn't Percy Jackson where he "killed" Ares as a 12 year old (Percy, you were my childhood, but that's bullshit.))

Even confined in Troy, she ARGUED with APHRODITE about going to see Paris! She is not some meek woman who just does as she's told with no pushback! She argued with a GODDESSS! Very few survive doing that!!!

She's not "Prey to fate", she's a "VICTIM of Fate".

[moonchildstyles]

have you thought about revisiting that anon concept about asterry and his girlfriend watching p*rn? I'm asking for a friend hehe

wordcount: 9.8k+

—————

(Y/N) blinked, staying silent as she took in the conversation around her. This was definitely not the avenue she saw the night taking when Charlotte had opened the second bottle of wine between the few of them. 

"I asked him if he still watched it a lot, like as much as he did before we started dating, but he wouldn't really say no," Emily shared before taking a pull from her wine glass, "He didn't say yes, but all he said was that its different now, don't worry. What is that even supposed to mean? Like, do you watch porn when I go to sleep, yes or no?" 

Charlotte and Sarah both laughed, joining Emily as she smiled around the rim of her wine glass. (Y/N) wanted to laugh along, but she was honestly still a bit thrown off by the topic. 

Truthfully, she didn't know really much about anything that had to do with... pornography. The closest she had were the scenes some of her romantic novels had, and movies that had her adverting her eyes.

Not only was the act of sex demonized growing up—especially before marriage—but anything else that had to do with it. There was no way she was going to risk doing any of her own research should her parents' close monitoring catch even a stray google search. 

After getting out from under their thumb, she didn't have much desire to go looking on that corner of the internet—she had done fine enough up to this point, she figured. Then, of course, she met Harry and there really seemed to be no need for any kind of video when she had him in the flesh.

(Y/N) honestly wondered if she had ever even spoken the word porn aloud, let alone discussed it with anyone else. This conversation was especially jarring given all of the giggling and the unfiltered language. 

"Em," Charlotte piped up, bringing her wine glass to her mouth to cover the wry grin growing on her face, "Have you ever tried watching it with him, though?" 

Feeling her cheeks warming, (Y/N) practically sunk into her skin as if to hide from the conversation. Sarah had mimicked her surprise some, though she was decidedly less shocked into silence. 

"Charlotte!" Sarah bubbled, dark brows raised, "Is that what you do?" 

Another peal of laughter came from the wine-soaked group, though (Y/N)'s reaction was more to fit in with the theatrics. (When it came to topics like these, she didn't want to be quiet even if she wasn't necessarily talkative—being too silent left people wondering if she was uninterested, judging them, and invited questions she wasn't looking to answer). 

She had always figured the viewing of those kinds of videos to be something that was done alone. She couldn't fathom anyone joining in and watching alongside what should be a particularly intimate moment. (Besides, if you had someone to watch them with, why watch them at all when you could be with that person?). 

Charlotte hesitated for a moment, opening her mouth before closing it. Emily nudged her at her side, a mischievous smile on her face. 

"C'mon, spit it out." 

Finally, Charlotte threw her hands up in surrender. "It's honestly not that bad, and I think you should try it." 

"So, you have done it!" Sarah called, bouncing in her spot on the couch, "With Elijah or?" 

"With Elijah, yeah," she settled, the wine getting to her tongue as she didn't mind sharing more details, "I walked in on him one time, and I wanted to be grossed out, but I just wasn't. It ended up working out, and now it's just a thing sometimes." 

Charlotte's ending shrug before taking down a gulp of wine showed the end of her story, though Emily still nudged her as if there was more she could shake out. 

"I don't know if I could do that," Sarah admitted, crossing her legs underneath herself, "I think it would annoy me too much, that Mitch was watching a video like that when he could have just called me or something." 

(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth as the conversation then changed, some debate on if videos like that were allowed in relationships. 

She didn't know what she would do if she walked in on Harry watching something like that. While she couldn't really deny that she enjoyed the sight of him playing with himself (something she's shyly learned every time Harry passed his fist over himself before sinking into one of her holes), she wasn't sure what she would think about the inspiration behind the act. There was a part of her that would be offended, she thought, that she was right there and he picked a video over the real thing. Another part of her understood that maybe he wouldn't want to have sex right then, instead opting to take care of himself before moving on. Besides, it wasn't like he had photos of her to look at in the heat of the moment, so she figured she would have to understand. 

There was no use in being jealous of girls in movies anyway. Even if it did kind of hurt her stomach thinking about Harry reacting to them the same way he did to her. 

Around her the conversation had floated elsewhere leaving behind the illicit subject matter for something lighter (a movie Emily had gone to the theater to hate watch only to end up liking it some, and now she was questioning her taste level). She was able to plug into this one much better, that much was evident in the way Sarah had quit giving her small glances as if she knew that (Y/N)'s comfort was twisting. 

Despite now adding her own takes to the conversation and actively engaging outside of a few well placed laughs and head nods, the back of her mind was lagging behind. 

There were questions rattling around that she was sure she wasn't going to be able to keep completely under wraps the next time she saw Harry. 

—————

(Y/N) watched as Harry climbed into bed beside her, comforter pulled up to her chin as she sunk into the warm mattress. He gave her a lopsided smile when he caught her following gaze, her skin warming as she averted her eyes. 

Cuddling in beside her, Harry pulled her close with an arm around her waist, his ankle hooking around hers. She could feel his eyes on her, but when she didn't immediately match his gaze she heard a plume of laughter fall from him, 

"Why won't y'look at me, love?" he smiled, reaching his hand on her waist through the duvet to brush her hair out of her face. 

She shyly kept her eyes on the column of his tattooed throat, following the thorny roses. "You caught me." 

(Y/N) could feel the fan of his laughter as much as she heard it. His hand settled on her cheek then, his fingertips venturing into the baby hairs bordering her hairline. "Yeah, but y'catch me looking at you all the time," he countered, "Jus' lets me know y'like what y'see." 

Using his hand on her cheek, he angled her face towards him once more, forcing her eyes to meet his own. A small smile graced his features, his eyes light with amusement. Tipping his chin just right, he pressed his lips to hers in a delicate kiss. 

When he pulled away his smile had grown, dimples now touching his cheeks as he ran the pad of his thumb over the height of her cheekbone. "Did you have fun tonight, baby?" 

Their dinner date splashed through her head, along with all of the warm feelings she went through while under the dimmed lights. They swapped bites of food, shared a cocktail (Y/N) really wanted to try but was worried it would be too strong, and Harry pulled out any joke he could in hopes of hearing her bubbling laughter through the restaurant. 

Nodding her head against the pillow, her own smile took her features, leaving her cheeks mushed between Harry's hand and the soft of her pillow. "A lot of fun. Thank you for taking me." 

His hand slipped down the slope of her form, settling on the sup of her waist before he gave a gentle squeeze. When (Y/N) reacted with a bubble of laughter, Harry's eyes swam with adoration. 

"I had fun too, baby," he crooned, "Thank you for coming with me." 

With the low lights and the gentle way he spoke to her, (Y/N) felt like she was supposed to be tired. It was kind of her thing, anyway—being sleepy and decidedly ready to pass out whenever. But, that just didn't seem to be the case tonight, her head was too full.

When she had come to his place after class, Harry greeting her at the door, there was a pinging question in the back of her mind that made an abrupt return from the previous night. As much as she wanted to blurt it out, get the curiosity out of the way, it didn't feel entirely appropriate to ask her boyfriend about his porn habits just after walking through the door. That much was made even more apparent given the fact that Mitch greeted her a few minutes later, trekking from his room to the kitchen with a small wave. Then, Harry had told her he had plans to take her out to dinner that night, and there was no way she was asking such a question in the middle of a restaurant. 

There was never good time it seemed, to sate her curiosity and learn her own perspective on what her friends had been talking about. No time better than right now, anyway.

She just had to find some kind of courage to go along with the timing. 

Shuffling closer, the sheets shifting around them, Harry pressed a small kiss to her forehead, right over a crease she hadn't realized was scrunching the skin. "What's going on in here?" he cooed, "You're thinking too hard before bedtime, love." 

"I just—" she bubbled off before stopping her tongue. She swallowed, a pinch appearing between her brows. "There was something... I don't know." 

There were no words that felt comfortable in her mouth, nothing that she could feasibly hear herself saying when it came to the questions she had. (Honestly, she couldn't understand how she was able to utter some of the things she did for Harry between the sheets and now shy away over pornography). 

His hand on her waist was a stern anchor, the grip just tight enough to remind her that he was there. "'S alright, y'can tell me. What is it?" 

Gone was the amusement and the soft teasing he had offered up to her before, instead his voice growing soft and forgiving. Patience now settled in his eyes as he waited on her. 

Dropping her own gaze to dance around his features, she distracted herself with the spray of fine freckles on his nose. "The girls last night, they said something that I've just been... thinking about I guess." 

The warmth of his gaze traced over her own features. "What was it? It wasn't anything rude, right?" 

"No, no, no," (Y/N) rushed out, matching his gaze to show her sincerity. All of those girls were her friends, and Sarah would also never let anything like that happen around her. "It was—I don't know, it feels weird to say it." 

Harry's expression relaxed now that he knew he wasn't there to be nursing any wounds. "We've said a lot of weird stuff to one another, baby. I think I can handle it." 

She couldn't look him in the eye when she tried to speak again, instead dropping back to the tattooed skin of his neck. Her hands between them reached to take his shirt between her fingers, the faded graphic on the material distracting her just enough. 

"They were talking about porn." Her heartbeat sounded in her ears. "With their boyfriends." 

There was a pause, though (Y/N) could feel his unwavering eyes on her face. 

"Okay," he finally shared, the syllable slow as it dropped from his tongue, "That's what's been on your mind?" 

Folding her bottom lip between her teeth, she tried to find the next set of words that made sense. "I-I have questions. I think." 

Harry's expression broke into a soft smile she could hear through the delicate huff of laughter he let out. "You think?" 

Peeking up at him through her lashes, she saw his eyes bare of liner, the planes of his face relaxed and rounded, and his hair pushed away from his face leaving it all on display. He didn't look at all bothered by her avenue of conversation, leaving him to be the always open book he was for her, willing and ready to answer anything she needed. 

"Yeah," she said, settling into her skin some, "I knew what they were talking about, but I don't think I really understand it all. I thought I could ask you, if it wasn't weird." 

"Never weird, love," Harry shared, "You know 'm always here to answer anything y'need help with." 

(Y/N) blinked, tipping her chin in a short nod. "Okay, but if there's anything you don't want to answer, you don't have to." 

"'M sure I can answer ever—" 

"Do you watch porn?"

Practically cringing at the sound of her voice wrapped around that question and the fact she spoke it aloud right to Harry, (Y/N) wanted to curl up in hopes of disappearing. 

"Sorry," she started, her voice barely a peep, "I didn't mean to cut you off." 

Harry looked at her for a lingering moment, his brows raised high over his eyes before he melted some. An amused smile sat on his lips, a small puff of laughter exhaling from his lungs. "'S alright," he offered, his hand on her waist squeezing just enough, "Not what I was expecting, but 's okay.

"To answer your question," he drawled, "No, I don't—not since you, really. No need to when I've got my own pretty star, huh?" 

His lips molded into a teasing smile, but lopsided as he pressed forward hoping to catch a small grin from her. 

Keeping her shy gaze dropped, (Y/N) couldn't keep her lips from curling. There was a bit of pride from the flattery; he didn't need any videos when he had her instead. She was enough to satisfy him, and that was a nice thought even if it was a bit in the gutter. 

Spotting her shy smile, Harry let out a plume of laughter before he dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. Knowing him, he probably already knew what was going on in her head, even if she didn't say it aloud. 

"Is that all y'wanted to know, my love?" 

Her fingers in his shirt curled just a bit more, as if she were bracing herself for this next string. "One of the girls, she said something about her and her boyfriend... watching it together," (Y/N) prattled, her voice growing smaller the more she went on, "Is that normal?"

Harry lagged in his response, taking his time with his fingers fiddling with a pulsing pattern on her waist. "It can be," he offered, "but, 's not for everyone. I've never really talked about that with anyone, but I would imagine it could make people feel closer—sharing something that's usually only done by yourself."

(Y/N) silently nodded her head, taking in his offered information. Truthfully, she wanted to stall, find another inconsequential question to stall him before she was left with the last curiosity she'd had burning in the back of her head. 

The avenue she landed on was barely any less humiliating, but it was easy to fall from her tongue than the other she'd had on deck. She still couldn't meet his eyes as she spoke, bubbling off the question before she could second guess herself. 

"Is that something you would want to try? Like, watching it together and all." 

Skating his hand over the curves of her form, Harry tipped her chin up. Their eyes matching, (Y/N) could see the way he scanned over her features the way he always did when he was attempting to decipher where she was coming from. The lines of his features were softened, rounding into soft curves and gentling the longer her gazed at her.

"Is that something you want to try?" 

Flounder under his pressing, (Y/N) understood what he was going for—she was too shy to explicitly voice all of her wants, so he had to fill in the gaps at times—but was still taken aback none the less. Of course the thought had crossed her mind since the previous night, about what it would be like to sit with Harry and watch a different kind of movie than she usually watched with him, but the idea wasn't exactly the most compelling. 

She wasn't sure if she could really handle watching him watch someone else, and potentially become more turned on than he had even been with her. Nonetheless, she had never actually watched any porn herself, and she wasn't sure if she really had any real inclination to change that. 

But, there was something to be said about the way Harry had described the act: sharing someone to vulnerable, that is usually kept private, with someone you trust. He had a way of making these scenes sound much more romantic than the semantics did. 

"I don't know," she settled on, aware of the intensity in his eyes as he watched her, "I've never really watched anything like that, so I don't think I really understand what that would mean." 

Almost imperceptible, (Y/N) was able to catch the way his brows raised just enough. "Really?" 

Tipping her head in an almost shrug between the sheets, (Y/N) pursed her lips. "It was one of those things, you know." 

That was enough of an explanation to Harry; he knew her growing years and the drilled in obedience that followed her even after leaving home. Despite curiosity, there was no way she would have had the confidence to even make a search, that he knew.

A small curve settled on his lips, patience and understanding sitting in his eyes. "Guess that makes sense then, hm?" 

"Just add it to the list," (Y/N) joked back, a small huff of laughter falling from her lips. 

His hand on her jawline that he had used to tip her face towards him now angled itself towards the curve of her throat. His palm was warm and agnate over her skin, the pad of his thumb stretching to rest on the hinge of her jaw. "Is it something you want to know more about?" 

"Kind of," she answered honestly, sinking into the fluff of the pillow under her head, "But...Really, I think I only care about what y-you like and all of that." 

It was one of the harder admissions, (Y/N) feeling as if she were asking a bit too much into his personal thoughts. If he wanted to share that part of himself, he would have already, she figured. 

The warmth of his thumb on her cheek expanded as he pet a small trail down to the line of her jaw. "I don't really watch it anymore, love, remember?" 

"Yeah, but," she started, resisting the urge to pin her bottom lip between her teeth, "What about before?" 

When Harry paused, (Y/N)'s fingers in her shirt pulsed in an anxious curl. 

"But, you don't have to answer if you don't want to," she quickly attempted to recover, replaying her words and just how pushy they may have come off.

The amused laughter that fell from his lips was enough to reassure her that she hadn't bothered him too much. "'S alright, baby," he murmured, "I was jus' thinking." 

When he didn't immediately offer any extra information, she couldn't help herself—her curiosity was so close to gaining all the answers she needed, she didn't want it to stop now. 

"About what?" she mumbled, watching intently as he just kept thinking.

Only one side of his mouth curled upwards, his smile going lopsided. "If I should tell you, or show you." 

Now, (Y/N) had no choice but to fall silent around her dry throat. Show her?

Harry let out a small laugh at her reaction, unable to hold himself back before he was pressing a gentle kiss to the bridge of her nose between her wide eyes. 

"I take it that I should probably jus' tell you, huh?" he joked, pulling away with a brilliant smile on his lips to match the bright lilypad of his irises. 

Swallowing around her dry throat, (Y/N) spoke up, "Y-You could show me. If you think that would be easier." 

Though the request itself wasn't made with much confidence, she still was surprised it even made its way out of her mouth. Two birds with one stone, she figured, she'd finally see what it—porn—was all about, and learn something new about Harry. 

That was what she was telling herself anyway. 

Raising a single brow over his intense gaze, Harry took in her reaction. "We could do that," he mused, "But, I don't want to do that if it would make y'uncomfortable, love. It can be a bit... much, especially if you have nothing to compare it to." 

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she allowed her gaze to trace along the line of the single stray curl that rested against his temple. "I think I can handle it," she told him, her voice small as she avoided his eyes. 

Shifting his hand on her neck, Harry brought his palm to rest on her cheek. The pad of his thumb ran along the fragile skin under her eyes. "You are brave, aren't you." 

"I try," she murmured, shy smile evident in her voice. 

She could practically see the gears turning in Harry's head, his eyes flashing with just a glint of something she couldn't name. She was hyper aware of his hand once again gliding over her skin until he was carding his fingers through her hair to rest his palm on the back of her head. She matched her gaze to his bashfully. 

"Are you tired, or do y'think y'can stay up a little while longer with me?"

With a flutter of her lashes, and her heart mimicking the act, (Y/N) tugged herself that much closer to him between the sheets. 

"I can stay awake."  His lips turned into a lopsided smile, a single dimple denting his cheek as he gazed at her. (Y/N) could only tip her chin just so when he surged forward, pressing their lips together in a warming kiss. While it was chaste, there was an urgency behind it that she could feel before he pulled away. 

"Lay the other way for me, baby," he instructed with a jerk of his chin, "I need to grab m'phone." When (Y/N) didn't immediately turn to press her back to his chest, Harry lagged, keeping from reaching for his phone on the bedside. "What's wrong, hm?" 

"I don't get to see you?" (Y/N) murmured, barely keeping the whine out of her voice. She preferred seeing his eyes over everything else, knowing that it was him that was touching her. 

A soft hum of laughter fell from his lips. "'S just gonna be a little bit easier this way, love, that's all. I'll still be right here." 

"'Kay," she answered, though she didn't follow his instruction until he pressed another kiss to her puckered lips. 

With that, Harry reached to the bedside table where his phone was resting while (Y/N) twisted in the sheets to lay on her side with her back to his chest. The duvet folded, leaving her arm and back exposed to the chill while Harry took longer than a few moments to do whatever it is he was doing on his phone. 

She could hear the faint taps of his finger against the screen, scrolling and typing before he eventually curled around her. Harry conformed to the shape of her, his sweatpants-clad legs tangling with her bare ones with his arm hooking around her waist to position his phone before the two of them. He shifted the pillow under his head until she could feel the plume of his breath grazing the column of her throat, warm though it still elicited goosebumps to erupt over her skin. 

(Y/N) could feel her heart bubbling in her chest when she dared to peek at what was on his bright screen. Though there was nothing explicit or exposing on the screen, she was sure they weren't too far off with the dark color scheme of the site he had brought up. 

"Are you sure, love?" he murmured, his lips close to her ear, "We don't have to do this if y'don't want to. It can be a lot right away, and I don't want to scare you." 

Folding her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) allowed his words to roll around her head. She wasn't completely naive—she could imagine what the videos would look like, though she doubted it would look or feel the same as it did when she was underneath Harry. But, his earlier definition still stuck with her: this was a small vulnerability he was sharing with her. This is something he would normally have kept so private, but he was willing to bring her in and share something so different with her. 

She could be brave—she could keep her curiosity burning enough to keep from feeling any kind of anxiety. 

"I'm sure," she mumbled, "Thank you." 

Dropping a kiss to her shoulder, Harry hugged her to his chest for a lingering moment. "You tell me if y'change your mind, darling." 

"I will," she assured, despite his words being more of a statement than request. 

Reaching over her, Harry grabbed for his phone and began tapping at the screen. The brightness had lowered from disuse, but was brought back to life from his touch, leaving every frame illuminated once more. Snuggled against his back, (Y/N) watched, her eyes widened once the reality of the site was scrolled through. 

There was already a video pulled up on screen, showing what exactly took him so long to tap through his phone before. (Y/N) blinked, trying to decipher what was in the thumbnail before her. 

From the small snippet she could see—along with the attention grabbing, all caps title—this was a loving couple having morning sex on a Saturday to the sunrise. Very romantic and loving, supposedly. In the picture, she could see the beginnings of a sunrise through a conveniently, perfectly lit bedroom. There were gauzy drapes over their open windows and pristine white linens on their bed—even the creases and folds were artfully tufted around their bodies. (Y/N) couldn't be sure if they were just that perfect, or this was an expertly produced video. She couldn't tell the difference. 

The pair was barely clothed, their faces cut out of frame, leaving their bodies to be the star of the show. The man had tattoos—no where near as many as Harry, but still quite an array. He was undressed down his briefs, where there was a bulge that could be clearly seen against the woman's stomach. She was made of smooth swathes of skin, the ends of her hair visible as it brushed her bare skin before disappearing out of frame, and her chest bare. All (Y/N) could see that was distinctive about her form, was a small tattoo on her thigh in the shape of a red heart outline, contrasting against the white cotton panties sitting on her hips. Their limbs were in a tangle with one another, legs crossed and arms holding one another.

From behind, she could feel the brush of Harry's lips against her throat. "Does this look okay?" 

(Y/N) gave her approval in a small nod of her head, her hair brushing against her pillow. "Have you watched this before?" 

She could hear the curl of his lips in his voice as his words swept across the back of her neck. "A few times, yeah." 

As he spoke, Harry's thumb tapped on the video, pressing play and starting it up. She watched as the frames took over the screen, showing the humble beginnings of the film with the woman crawling over the bedsheets to reach her lover where he was laid back against the pillows. The soft sound of their lips meeting could be heard off screen. 

"W-When?" she asked, her line of questioning a safe distraction from what was going on in front of her. 

The soft sounds of their mouths coming together and parting filtered quietly from his phone. Were they that loud when they kissed too? 

"Not for a while," he reminded her, though his voice dropped lower into a whisper just for her when he spoke again, "Watched it for the first time after that night in my office at the shop though, I remember that." 

"You do?" Her skin warmed at the reminder of that first night—all of the things she learned that night while sprawled out on that couch. 

On video, the man had gripped the woman's hips and settled her atop him from the position she had previously held on all fours. The length of their bodies were pressed together, their faces still just perfectly out of frame to keep everything anonymous. Their kissing had turned rougher, a bit noisier as they sunk into one another. The sun outside their window was casting luminous glares over the scene, giving buttery warmth to their escalating acts. 

Harry's hand on her waist squeezed as he watched. "Yeah," Harry breathed, a heavy kiss landing on the back of her neck, "I couldn't stop thinking about you, and I saw this video and... she kind of looks like you, doesn't she?"

(Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat. There was a moment as the woman moved, her body on display against the heavy tattoos of her partner that had her seeing them in just the right light. 

Cotton panties, bare skin, delicate tattoo, all wrapped in white with the slow sharing of kisses between she and her lover. (Y/N) could see herself in that. 

It was an exhilarating feeling knowing that Harry saw someone so effortlessly sexy, and could see (Y/N) in them. 

She pressed herself against him that much more, her back against his chest. His hand on her waist tightened, as if preparing to keep her just where she was should someone try to steal her away. She could feel the fan of his breath fluttering over her skin as she watched his phone. 

The acts between the couple escalated until the camera caught the way the woman ran her hand down the man's body until she had reached his cock. Her palm was pressed against the bulge, rubbing against it through the fabric of his underwear. He moaned unabashedly off screen, whispering something for only his lover to hear. (Y/N)'s lungs squeezed when she saw the way the dots of wetness seeped over the grey underwear covering him. 

"Wh-What else do you like about this video?" (Y/N) murmured, shifting so her hand was laid over his own on her waist, their fingers tangling together. 

A breathy laugh could be heard from behind her. Harry's voice was just as low as he spoke, "Do y'really want me to talk through the whole thing?" 

"I like hearing you more," she admitted, squeezing his hand in hers. 

A delicate kiss was dropped to her shoulder, the curl of his smile evident in the small contact. "Well, other than her reminding me of my angel," he drawled, a tease to his tone, "'S different than some of the things I used to watch. I liked seeing something gentle." 

(Y/N)'s throat bobbed as she swallowed around her dry throat. Before her, the videoed couple had now moved on to sliding their hands into each other's underwear. The man's face was buried in his lover's neck, showing off a head of dark hair as his moans filtering through the small speakers. The woman's whimpering noises could be heard in tandem with the slick sounds of their hands roaming each other's bodies. 

"What was the other stuff you watched?" Absently, (Y/N) was aware of the way her hips shifted some, rubbing her backside against Harry's front. Behind her, against the curve of her bottom, she could feel something much more rigid than the blocks of his muscle beginning to press into her.

He paused before he spoke, mulling over her question while she watched on screen as the few pieces of clothing covering the couple's bodies were shed. Harry's hand on her waist shifted, leaving her own behind as he pressed his palm into the soft of her stomach. She could feel the pressure of his fingertips on her plush skin just as much as she could see the man on screen press against his lover's thigh in the same way. 

"'Member m'birthday?" he murmured into her skin, his mouth beginning a blazing trail over her shoulder. The tip of his nose caught on the neck of her top, pulling it along with him as he kissed the cuff of her shoulder. 

For a split moment, there was a different movie playing for (Y/N). This one featured she and Harry as the stars, celebrating his birthday between the sheets with his cock sinking into her throat, his palm smacking over her center, and his cum painting over her face. She wondered if he could feel the way her stomach tightened under his hand at the memories. 

"Yeah," she answered simply, the word carried on a warm breath. 

He hummed from behind her, a smug curl on his lips pressing into her shoulder. "Things like that, baby," he explained, "But I started watching things like this after I met you." 

The couple on screen was beginning to find the throes of their passion, now both bare bodied and reaching for one another. There was a part of (Y/N) that wanted to shy away at the sight of two strangers and their naked bodies, their recording of an intimate moment not sitting right in her stomach. There was another part of her that imagined Harry sitting down, pants to his thighs and his hand in his lap, picturing she and him in these spots instead as he fisted his cock. That part of her kept her from drawing her eyes away, urging her to see what he did—see what held his attention while waiting for her to be ready for more than easy touching and kisses in his bedroom.

Her mouth felt dry when she tried to speak again, only to be cut off when Harry's palm grazed the waist of her panties. Though she was still only feeling his touch through her shirt, she was sure he could feel the extra groove of fabric and the tightening of her abdomen. Only that much further, and he could fit his hand between her legs just like the man on screen was doing to his own lover. 

"Wh-Why?" she asked, building off of his previous response to keep herself from melting and begging for him to touch her when they had barely just started. 

Hooking his ankle around hers, Harry started pulling her that much more into his embrace. The sheets around them hissed over their bodies, his phone wobbling from its upright position against the pillow though it didn't fall. He pushed his thigh between her own, opening up her legs with the hem of her oversized shirt being pushed up and over her thighs. 

"I liked the idea of going slow, after I met you, love," he detailed, no longer playing around when he finally slid his hand over her form and slipped it under the end of her top, "Didn't really get off on the thought of fucking you as much as I did to kissing you and making y'happy." 

(Y/N) all but melted at his explanation. She reveled in the sound of his voice, mixing with the soft sound of the couple on screen finding their own bliss within one another. Through her hooded gaze, it was easy to see the lovers on his phone as she and Harry, the daydream building around her. 

In a tug back down to earth, (Y/N)'s breath caught when Harry fit his hand between her thighs. His wandering touch had finally reached her, pressing the heel of his palm against her clit and the length of his fingers down her center. She was sure he could feel the heat that had collected there, though she hoped she hadn't completely soaked through her underwear that quickly. 

"Y'like it so far?" he asked, pressing his palm that much harder against her clit. 

"Uh-huh," she breathlessly replied. Her hooded eyes were glued to the sight of the way the man positioned himself above her, thighs open for him to fit between. She could hear him murmur something to her, passing a hand over her form with fingertips skating across her breasts and down to the round of her hips. Every touch was careful and clinging, the sound of their kissing soundtracking the moment. "He reminds me of you." 

He hummed from behind her, his hand beginning to shift over her core in a delicate press to draw away her breath. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah," she answered, eyes stitched to the video as the man sunk his cock into his lover, a shrill whine leaving her lips while he settled against her hips. His tattoos quivered as his muscles flexed under his skin, making the stars and constellations inked over his skin dance. "You're better, but," (Y/N) swallowed, hearing the quiet slap of his skin against the woman's as he thrusted against her, "He touches her like you touch me." 

Harry's response came in the form of languid touches that warmed her skin and kept her breathless even when her eyes closed and the video was an afterthought. Underneath her, he fit his free arm to coil around her form. His thigh between her two tensed, lifting just enough so he could spread her own legs enough to give her what she wanted. 

Hooking his fingers into her panties, he pulled them to the side, a cool shiver going up (Y/N)'s spine now that she was exposed to his touch. He dragged his fingertips through her slit, collecting the drops of slick until he circled around her clit in languorous pulls. 

She had never been so thankful for the stretched out neckline of her top as she was then, when she felt Harry's heavy kisses searing into her bare skin. There was so much of him all over, pressing into her back with his cock hard against her, his kiss on her shoulder, and his hand on her core, pulling more and more air out of her lungs. 

"You know how many times I thought about doing that to you, baby?" he drawled into her skin, syrupy and thick into her pores, "Before y'were ready, this was all I had. Had to picture you letting me spread you out like that, feel how wet you were jus' for me." 

With his hand between her thighs, slick fingertips on her clit before they traveled down towards her pulsing opening, she could have cried for him. She had been depriving him of this, leaving him to only watch videos and imagine, when they could have been doing this so much sooner. She wasn't sure at times—especially at one like this—how she had even made it through without his touch. 

"I'm sorry," she stuttered out for him, her hand grasping at sheets, "Yo-You should have told me." 

A rumble of laughter was felt against her back as much as she heard the sound fan to her ears. "Don't be sorry, lovebug, y'jus' weren't ready yet, that's all. I think we're making up for it jus' fine, don't you?" 

She could only nod her head, forcing her eyes to blink open. It was a task given the fact that she was still luxuriating in the tease of his fingers passing over her entrance before smearing her clit and restarting the circuit. Looking ahead, she had seen that the couple on film was thick in their session, breathless, the man straining himself as he set a controlled pace while thrusting into his partner with the woman grasping and reaching for any part of him she could reach. Watching the way the man's skin turned pink in the wake of her nails made (Y/N) want to do the same to Harry—what would the roses on his chest and the butterfly on his torso look like filled in with a bit of color? 

"I want to see you," she blurted out, unable to hold back anymore. She didn't care much for the movie anymore anyway, he was what she wanted. This video would probably still be there later, they could explore more later, if she really wanted. 

A teasing smile could be heard in his voice, the notion making (Y/N) want to feel embarrassed through she didn't have much room for that given the way she was rutting into his hand. "Y'don't want to keep watching? I thought y'liked it, love? Liked him?" 

"I like you," she countered, already turning in his arms despite the coil of his hold around her, "I want to see you now. You're better." 

He didn't put up any more teasing argument, instead helping her as she twisted and turned in his arms until his phone was forgotten in the tufts of the duvet and she had her lips pressed to his. His and that had been between her legs was now stationed at her hip, his fingertips denting into the plush skin as she melted into him. A sigh of something that felt like relief to (Y/N) slipped from her throat.

Harry parted his lips, swiping his tongue across the seam of her mouth, tasting her noises. Reaching for his bare shoulders, (Y/N) wasn't even thinking before she had the blunt of her nails pressing to his skin, just like the woman in the video. (Who must have been having a good time given the faint noises (Y/N) could still hear among the folds of their bedding). 

She readily opened her mouth for him to slip his tongue inside, eager to get a state of him. He led her through the kiss, pressing his tongue to hers and tasting through every delicate moan and breathy exhale she gave. 

This was definitely better than watching a video. 

"Harry," she mumbled into his kiss, barely enunciating before she was urging to press her lips to his once more. 

He smiled against her mouth, allowing a small slew of her excited kisses to hit him before he pulled away enough to meet her eyes. His pupils were wide and dark, leaving only slices of murky green to ring around them. There was a flush over his cheeks, warm and red that matched the hue of his kiss-swollen lips. She couldn't help her eyes but to follow the tip of his tongue as it peeked out to wet his lips. 

"What do y'want from me love?" 

Her answer was automatic: "You." 

(Y/N)'s gaze was drawn to the dimple that was thumbed into his cheek as a lopsided curl took his lips. "I know," he said, much too smug, "But do y'want me to keep touching you? Or do y'want more, love? Gotta tell me or I can't help you."

Her mind flashed to the vision of the man fitting his hips against his lover's like a puzzle piece, sinking inside her and straining his muscles to making the best pace for her. That was what (Y/N) wanted. 

"I want more," she told him, her voice a whisper between just the two of them, "Like the video."

Harry drew closer towards he, his smile fading as the blunt of his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. "I can do that for you, baby. Do you think you're ready for me, or do y'need a little more?" 

She shook her head on instinct. "I'm ready." 

Tipping his chin, Harry pulled her into another languid kiss with his tongue touching over her lips. His kiss was a welcome distraction while his hand reached for the waist of her panties underneath the hem of her top. He pushed them down her thighs as far as he could before he was forced to break their kiss to help ease them off the rest of the way. (Y/N) felt clingy for him in that moment, already missing his touch and warmth. It wasn't much longer that he pulled his own underwear off, everything landing into a pile on the floor, before he was laying himself atop her. 

Much like the movie, she swore their hips fit like puzzle pieces together, the bones cushioned by plush skin. She reached for his arms reflexively, though she hadn't meant to grip him so tightly until she felt the head of his cock nudge against her clit. Her lungs squeezed with a coiled ribbon cinching around her stomach. 

Above her, Harry was like an angel. His eyes were bare from his usual liner, though there were still the stark black additions of his nose and lip rings pierced through his face. His skin was flushed and warm, cheeks matching his bright eyes. Around his features, his curls hung around in waved strands and curled ringlets. It wasn't the first time she had seen him like this and wondered if he was the true angel between the two. 

"Still feel good, love?" he asked, his hands fisted into anchors on either side of her head. 

Matching the intensity of his eye contact, (Y/N) kept herself from shrugging her hips against his own, wanting of feel along heavy brush of his cock against her center. "Uh-huh," she sounded, throat dry, "Please."

 Only a glimpse of his smile could be seen before he was dipping down to draw her in for another kiss. He sealed his mouth to hers, kissing her top lip delicately with the soft sounds of their lips parting and coming together to fill the room. 

For a moment, (Y/N) wondered if they would look like that couple if they were on film. If their love, and the gentle touches, and the shared heartspace could be seen just as easily. She liked to think they would do it even better. 

One of his hands on the bed disappeared, the mattress shifting without the weight, before she felt it again over the small of her stomach. It was nothing more than a soft brush before he had his fist wrapped around his cock, guiding himself inside her. The head brushed against her clit in a heavy press; she couldn't tell if she was more wet than she thought or if he had been pearling dots of precum from his tip while she was preoccupied. 

He slid his tip through her folds until he hit the pulsing entrance nestled inside. (Y/N) shivered, letting out small noise into his mouth. She could tell her was becoming distracted, his kiss slowing until he was doing nothing other than focusing on the slid of his cock through her wetness, socking in her until he finally pressed forward. 

It was a familiar stretch, the head fitting inside her, but it still took her breath away. Especially now that their box of condoms was pushed to the back of his bedside drawer, barely used unless she asked, she was able to feel every ridge and vein on his cock. She felt more and more full with every inch pushed inside her, her walls pulling him in while she attempted to keep kissing him before giving up on the act in favor of simply resting her parted lips against his own.

Harry's guiding hand had shifted to lay on her hip, his touch a bit slick though neither of them minded. He was just as lost in the feeling as he was with the way he let out shuddering breaths with stilted lungs, his hand on the other side of her head now holding a tremor. His breath came out in warm fans over her features, heating her that much further. 

He bottomed out with a wet sound of his cock sliding through her walls, his base resting heavy against her clit. (Y/N)'s hold on his arms tightened at the feeling, nails leaving imprints on his skin. 

Her heartbeat bubbled in her ears as she got her bearings, coming to with a flutter of her eyes only to see harry already looking at her with his own hooded gaze. 

"You alright?" he breathed, dilated eyes scanning over her features, "Do y'need me to wait?" 

"No, no," she bubbled off, "Please, daddy." 

That was all he seemingly needed to hear—the whine of her voice and his title so lovingly mentioned—before Harry was rearing his hips back and pressing into her once more. He split her open, her walls stretching and opening for him to fit inside with every languid thrust. The first few took her breath away, getting used to the feeling of the friction and every part of her body being fulfilled by him. 

"Daddy," she helplessly called out, her voice a shared secret for just the two of them. The sheets hissed around them, matching her volume. 

Harry watched her form above as she struggled to keep her eyes from closing. She wanted to see him; this is what she had been wanting when she decided to ditch the movie. She wanted to watch him the way they had watched the couple. 

"'M here, baby. 'M here," he murmured, his voice dropping low as his mouth fell into a gape. "Feel so good, love—fuck." 

Spurred on by his praise, (Y/N) hiked her this over his hip, the heel of her foot pressing into the back of his thigh. Her plush skin gave way to the angles of his body, cushioning him as he drove his hips into hers in lingering passes. His hand on her hip shifted then, dragging her sleep shirt the rest of the way up until her bare breasts were exposed to the heat of the room. 

His palm dragged over the swell, her nipple catching on the creases of his skin. Goosebumps erupted over her form, her lashes fluttering at the touch. Harry dipped his head down, pressing his lips to her other breast, the tip of his nose skimming across before he wrapped his mouth around her nipple. His tongue touched over the bud, warming her though she could feel the skin tightening in response. He matched the pace of his wandering touch on her other breast, allowing her to feel him in every place she needed. 

Almost. 

Feeling the base of his cock press against her clit wasn't enough. She needed more than that fleeting touch against her, more than just the harsh smear over her weeping center. 

"Daddy, I—" she cried out, her words evaporating when she felt him twitch inside her. 

"'S okay," he shushed her, his mouth popping off of her nipple before he dragged his kisses towards her collarbone, "'M here, baby. I'll give y'anything y'want." 

His words were nothing more than smeared rambles, but they sank perfectly into her brain. He was here—he had her. He wasn't a silly video, he was real and she could feel his weight and his touch and even his heartbeat. 

"I want—" she stumbled, her words failing her in the heat of the moment, "I need—Please, touch me." 

"I am touching you, baby," he countered, looking up at her through his lashes before finally leveling his gaze with hers. He hovered above her, his eyes still finding hers even as he jostled her with every thrust into her. "Y'need to tell me what y'want, and then I can help."

"My—It's—"

(Y/N) almost felt panicked, instead reaching for his hand on her breast to push it down to the apex of her thighs. His wrist strained under her hand when he realized when she was directing him towards. That was all the cue he needed before his thumb was smearing over her clit, circling and patting the bud just as she had wanted. 

All but melting into the mattress, the beginnings of a cocky curl fell on his lips. "This was what y'wanted, my love? Coulda jus' told daddy—would have done it for you earlier." 

Maybe it was feeling him splitting her walls open, slick with his precum, his hand on her clit, or the sound of his voice wrapped around his honorific, but (Y/N) could feel the bow in her abdomen tightening. 

She could only whine for him, tightening her fingers around the bones of his wrist as he kept his ministrations up. His skin glimmered in a sheen of sweat, baby curls sticking to his temples as he took care of her just as he promised. 

He caught her looking, matching his eyes to hers when she dared to travel her gaze to his clumped lashes. She expected a curl of his lips, a flash in his eyes, something teasing and smug to enter his expression. Instead, she saw the way his face rounded out, the harsh angles that usually made him up now fading into soft lines and curved edges. 

"I love you," he murmured, "So much, (Y/N). You know that?" 

This was a moment she wished she had on video, exactly from her perspective with every detail memorialized. 

Releasing her hands on his wrist and arm, she settled her palms on his cheeks. Despite the rocking of their forms, the rustling bedsheets, and his phone lost somewhere at seat, (Y/N) almost forgot about everything but his touch. 

"I love you too, honey." 

Something flashed through his gaze then, but it was decidedly softer, more delicate than anything she had ever spotted before. She never called him by many pet names, preferring his name (it was the name of the man she was in love with, she couldn't think of a better thing to call him), but there were moments she thought he might like the extra love falling from her lips.

Harry didn't waste any longer than a beat before he was smearing his lips against hers. The kiss was messy and clumsy, just off center with his tongue swiping out before she was ready, but she loved it. This was what she wanted, what had been on her mind throughout the video. 

He put more of himself into her, his hips picking up pace and his hand on her clit quickening. She felt the press of his chest every time he sank in deep inside her, splitting her walls and making more room for him than she even knew she had. Her insides clenched around him, sucking him deeper every time he sank back inside. The ribbon in her stomach was beginning to fray at the edges, unravelling more and more.

"B-Baby," Harry breathlessly crooned, pulling away just enough so she could hear, "Where do y'want m'cum? 'M al-almost there—fuck." 

She didn't have to think before she was answering him, "Inside, inside. Please, daddy. I want it inside."

There was one more twitch of his cock inside her, his head nudging against what felt like her stomach, before there was nothing left of her to give. The fraying ribbon gave way, spooling too tight inside before falling apart. She shredded around him, feeling like nothing more than glimmering fabric laying in his arms for him to toss and turn whichever way he wanted. She could feel herself grow wetter, Harry's cock slicking through her opening. 

(Y/N) clung to him, her hands on his cheeks keeping him close as she attempted to kiss him through her hazy mind. It was nothing more than her gaped mouth dropped open against his own, nothing more than absent calls of his name falling from her throat. 

Barely, she could hear Harry mumbling a declaration—that he loved her—over and over against her mouth. She felt entirely too full, everything too much, when she realized he was cumming. Just as she had begged, he let go inside her, painting her walls in pumps of his cum that mixed with her own. She wouldn't be surprised to feel the aftermath dripping over her thighs. 

By the time Harry's bedroom came back to fruition around her, (Y/N) wasn't sure if she had been breathing properly since he landed atop her. Everything around her was wispy, not quite real, other than Harry himself. He was a comforting weight, an anchor she clung to. 

Sinking atop her, he rested his cheek on top of her chest. His nose skimmed her throat as he nuzzled closer to her, the length of his lashes tickling her bare chest. 

"Y'alright, love?" he murmured, just as out of breath as she was. 

"Mhm," she hummed, wrapping her arms around him in a clumsy hug, "I love you too, by the way." 

A rumbling laugh fell from his chest. "Love you more." 

With a small kiss being pressed to her sternum, harry began to untangle himself from her hold. He righted her shirt on her torso, covering her chest and keeping out the call that was beginning to seep over their sweat-glimmered skin now that the sheets had slid off of them.

"Where are you going?" she almost whined, reaching for him when he shifted out from between her cushioning hips. 

His smile was tender, affection swimming in his lightening gaze as he looked at her. He brushed a stray hair out of her face, keeping her features clear for his admiration. "We've gotta clean up, love. Can't go to bed like this, can we?" 

Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) didn't want to answer him. He was right—she needed to use the restroom and find a different pair of underwear for the night, while Harry inevitably searched for new sheets to change the bed into. But she didn't want to do that right now. She didn't want to walk around on wobbly legs, and go through her designated drawer, or anything else. She didn't want to touch anything that wasn't him. 

Instead, (Y/N) clung to him, using her weight to tug him down until he finally relented. Harry gave in with a sigh though he couldn't keep the smile off of his face. 

"Five more minutes, 'kay?" he bargained, cuddling her into him with her face in his throat and chin on the crown of her head. He even tugged the sheet up to blanket their forms once more, keeping her warm before patting her hip through the material.

(Y/N) smiled, pecking a small kiss to his neck. 

"Five more minutes." 

She'd stretch it until ten. 

—————

I finally got around to this request so thank you for everyone bein patient!!!! thank you for reading, sorry for any mistakes and if there's any ideas or requests you have send them in !!!

[wyervan]

DCA SLASHER AU: THE FIRST YAP

@furiouspersonakitten @r0tting-rat @stalkersamsrptumbler @g3nderbee ( yaaas @/crabsnpersimmons mention :D they’re an awesome artist) & hopefully this finds you well, dear anon, for I cannot @ you personally

Flabbergasted at the comments and questions I’ve gotten after posting my doodles over the past coupla months. I feel a special kind of silly when I see your guys’s responses 🫠.

I will do my best to explain the premise. Feel free to ask questions! Though there are things I’d like to keep close to the chest with specific story beats that I’ve got bouncing around in my head. Also sometimes I prefer to show instead of tell 🖼️.

light yapping and additional sketches under the cut. it’s probably not as much information as some of you might’ve hoped, but I’m an even slower writer than artist ☠️

🌞 🔪 🤡 🪓 🌜 🩸👾 🌞 🔪 🤡 🪓 🌜 🩸👾

New town, new life, and a new (used) car! You’ve even already gotten a new job within the first week of your move-in! Some small arcade in town was hiring and after a whirlwind of an interview, you started working there the very next day. Your new bosses are… a bit weird, but it’s kinda cool working in an arcade and it pays fair enough.

Okay, actually, they’re really weird. One of them is a high-energy neurotic neat freak and the other sleeps on the break room couch for a half of the day and is kind of a menace for the other half. At the very least it’s entertaining to watch them squabble like an old married couple. And they seem harmless…right?

Final Girl Y/N

they them pronouns, but comfortable with most gendered language

nicknamed Star by Sun and Moon (“one of us. one of Us!”)

new in town!

kinda punk (huge dork)

this is just my version of y/n who really is more like a fnaf oc within the AU. feel free to project your own idea of the character onto them and the story in general! I would love to see you guys’s Final Girls :3

Sun n Moon

not brothers, but have been almost inseparable since they met as children

coowners of the Superstar Arcade & Playplace, recently reopened after being closed for two decades

Ex-circus clown performers, they still occasionally do shows for children in the playplace on slow days

questionable after-hours activities

First thing I gotta lay down (cause this is a FNaF AU) is that Sun and Moon are not targeting children. In fact, many of the people they are targeting are those Sun and Moon judge to be harming children in some capacity. The situation… complicates further along, but this is the basis. Sun and Moon are driven to killing by their strong instinct to protect children.

Now their intentions may certainly sound pure and noble, but in practice and method they are decidedly… not.

FYI, this isn’t to say that dead children will not be present in this AU… this is a FNaF AU. Other characters from the FNaF lineup likely will make appearences in some form or another.

But Wyervan, if Sun and Moon only pick victims that are bad people, doesn’t that mean that Y/N is safe as long as they’re not a dick?

Ha ha. No :o)

🌞 🔪 🤡 🪓 🌜 🩸👾 🌞 🔪 🤡 🪓 🌜 🩸👾

thanks for tuning into station 106-point-yap. it takes me… a while to write these things…i might make small edits and will likely eventually put out a v2. I’m really challenging myself to work on this as a longer-form personal project. I think about these characters most of my waking hours and i want to salt them, toss them in oil, and bake them at 450.

[bamboobooshark]

Hiiii I just found your page and omg I love your writing so much. I actually did get into an argument with my friend, and I deactivated one of my intas cuz of it (long and stupid story) but it was really comforting to read Logan wanting to coddle and comfort someone yk

You can ignore the request if it makes you uncomfortable, but do you think you can write something where the reader doesn't really know or understand what regression is or why they feel this way so they isolate when they feel childish or playful or start annoying people without realizing it and Logan who loves and cares for them starts to miss them and is like wtf and helps them.

Thank you for your writing I hope you have an amazing day.

LOGAN HOWLETT X LITTLE!READER

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ☁️་༘ COMFORT & CONFUSION : 991 WRDS

<RATING : PG, VULENRABLE MOMENTS, CRYING>

A/N : Just a little note for Anon; I am so heavily greatful that my fic was able to bring you so much comfort. I hope you’re recovering well from what happened. Apologies for taking so long to get this out for you, I always get caught up in spilling and detailing my concepts that end up becoming full fics. I truly hope this fic is what you were hoping for <3 !!Warning for a pinch of angst and crying!!

You’ve been isolating yourself in your room since you woke up. You feel so confused with yourself, with your mind, with your feelings. You press your back against your headboard, legs crossed one on top of the other. You gently rock back and forth while struggling to understand how you’re feeling; why you’re feeling the way you do. Yeah, you’ve got a ton of energy right now. You feel like you’re letting your inner child express itself in your mind, yet you’re holding them in as best as possible. You’re terrified of annoying anyone by releasing those feelings, espically Logan. You bite and chew at your lips nervously as you rock a bit faster. Why? That’s the only question you can ask yourself right now. Over and over, your mind fills itself with nothing but confusion of why you feel like this, why you yearn to be so childish, why you’re scared of annoying Logan when he loves you unconditionally.

You’re quickly snapped out of your thoughts as the man knocks on the door. “Everything alright in there, kid,” he asks with his face pressed to the wood. God, the way he calls you kid only makes these foreign feelings harder to suppress. You choke back your tears before responding. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just feeling a little down,” you reply with a tone that’s involuntarily soft and childlike. Logan raises his brows at the way you speak to him. You’ve never kept yourself away like this, but he’s been noticing a pattern lately. You isolate yourself the moment you wake up, beg him to leave you alone, and then come out quiet and reserved. He continues to press because he misses you so damn bad. He’s willing to do absolutely anything to get you in his arms again. “Please tell me what’s wrong, bub. I promise I’m not going to be upset with you,” he pleads with the softest tone he can force out of his throat. “I mean, I’d be more upset if you didn’t trust me with whatever you’ve got going on,” he chuckles akwardly.

You wipe your tears before inviting him in. The second he realizes that you’re crying, his lips form a frown and his eyes give you a sympathetic gaze. “Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry, baby. I’m right here. I’m not leaving, I swear,” he scrambles to reassure you, sitting on your bed and pulling you into his arms. You let your cries get thicker once you lean into his. He smells so fatherly. His large, calloused hands make your entire body shiver with comfort. Everything about him is sending an unknown, unfamiliar feeling that you’ve been yearning for. You can’t even begin to imagine what to call it, but your body allows you to relax under his touch. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out. Tell me what’s up once you’re ready to,” he coos as his hands rub up and down your back. You nod against his chest, letting the thumping of his heartbeat soothe you.

You pull back from his embrace, but hold his hands in your own. His touch is what you’ve been needing. Scratch that, you’ve been needing Logan in general. You attempt to try and explain things, but you end up stammering and stuttering. “I’m sorry, Logan. I just — I don’t even know what to say,” you apologize while looking away from him. He squeezes your hands gently and sighs. “You don’t need to apologize, kid. I’ll be here as long as you need me to be. If I have to wait here for hours for you to get your thoughts together, I don’t mind. You know that, bub,” he tells you sincerely. You look at him and give him the best smile you can considering the circumstances.

You take a deep, shakey breath after a few minutes of silence before attempting to describe your feelings. “I’ve just been feeling like a child lately. I’ve had so much energy and excitement and joy for no reason. It’s so confusing and it’s scaring me Lo, it really is. I just want an answer,” you explain to him. His thumb rubs against your knuckles lovingly before he presses a silent kiss to your forehead. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry. You’ve got such a big heart, kid. I need you to understand that you don’t need to be afraid to let those feelings loose around me. I’ll love you no matter what,” he promises while holding your face in his hands so you’re looking at him. You nod gently, eyes glossy and wide from the way he comforts you so paternally. “I understand,” you mumble back, letting that same childlike voice slip. Logan gives you a gentle smile, failing to hold back a snicker. “Well would you look at that. You sound so little, baby. It’s adorable,” he says while attempting to hold himself back from squeezing your face. You giggle softly and shake your head no. “It’s not adorable, Lo,” you protest. Your stomach knots as you allow yourself to slip into this pure, innocent state. As soon as Logan begins to coddle you further, that knot unties itself and becomes a flutter in your heart. “If you deny anything else I say, I’ll have to find a way to get back at you for it. You’re too damn cute to not accept that you are,” he playfully threatens. “C’mere you sweet thing,” he growls as he pulls you into his lap. “No! Let me go,” you giggle sweetly, squirming in Logan’s arms despite wanting to stay right where you are forever. “I’m not letting you go, kid. You’re mine. My sweet little thing that I’ll protect with my life,” he declares before starting to pepper your face with soft kisses. You can feel him smiling like an idiot against your skin from the sound of your giggles, the way you smile, and the warmth of your face caused by him.

[jetii]

i loveeeeeee ur writing. its like a masterpiece. mwah. i was wondering if you could do an angsty fic with the prompt "I loved you!" with any clone boy you want (maybe crosshair 👀) I was listening to Cardigan by taylor swift and it lowkey set the mood.

sorry if the request is very vague cause i never watched bad batch yet im a huge simp 🥲 so do whatever you want.

I know you got like a tonnnn on your plate and i lowkey feel bad requesting but you write really good so take ur time to take care of yourself.

hiiiii anon. if you are who i think you are, then you'll have already been watching TBB by now, but if you're not, what are you doing!! /affectionate

after listening to the song (i have a sister who is a swiftie but alas i am not) and thinking harder about your prompt, i was inspired to write this for Echo, so i hope that's okay!

The Way Back

Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader

Words: 9,621

Tags/Warnings: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship, dramatic reunion, reader is a lawyer, Tech is a good brother, Echo needs a hug, allusion to panic attacks/alcoholism/depression

Summary: Echo always knew you were it for him, but the idea of seeing you again after so much has changed is more than he can take. Until one day he finds himself outside of your apartment, and the choice is made for him.

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Echo doesn’t leave the ship when it docks on Coruscant.

His eyes are locked on the city-planet, lit up like a giant firefly, watching the endless stream of ships coming in and out. Their trails of light make the whole thing seem dreamlike, surreal. Even that feels like too much, reminds him too much of the view from your apartment, and he tries to close his eyes, but his eyelids are made of glass.

The first time he saw Coruscant, there had been a moment of... what, awe? Terror? Something. Something big, anyway. He didn't understand then that you can have a feeling be a lot of things. He'd looked down on the galaxy's center of power and felt something bigger than he could possibly contain. Now, sitting alone on the Marauder with only the whirr of the vents for company, he thinks maybe the feeling was dread.

The first time they came back here after Echo joined the Batch, the others didn’t notice his unease. Or at least they didn't mention it. It was an adjustment period for everyone, Echo most of all, and his brothers gave him space to do things on his own terms, even when it meant he did nothing at all.

This time, it's different. He can tell they've noticed how he's been acting, and they're not just leaving him alone anymore. He can tell, because they're giving him looks. The kind of looks that ask questions he doesn't have answers for. They make excuses to stick close by, like they're afraid he might take off or that he's going to break down and have another panic attack. It makes him want to hide even more.

He's not going to, though. It's not so bad. Coruscant has always been a source of good memories for Echo, despite what happened. The sights, the sounds, the tastes — they're all still the same. He'd spent a long time on Coruscant before the Citadel happened, and he'd gotten used to it, the way the air smells, the feel of the rain against his skin. He had a whole life here. He was happy.

It's not so bad. He just... doesn't feel like going out, is all.

He knows he’s being stupid. He knows that he should be out there, enjoying what little downtime they’re afforded. Instead, he's on the ship, trying not to stare out the windows, trying to pretend that he isn't bothered by the thought of leaving, of the possibility of running into you again, however small that may be.

The worst part is that he's not sure why.

It's not that he doesn't want to see you. On the contrary, he does. More than anything. He hasn't stopped thinking about you, wondering if you're okay, if you’re happy, if you've thought of him. He's kept his ears open, and has managed to overhear a few stories here and there about you. The most recent had been about you winning a case for a group of Houk refugees who had been seeking asylum in the city, a big deal for a young lawyer to handle.

It had made him smile, a real, genuine smile, the kind he rarely got to have.

But there's something about seeing you again, about you seeing him that makes him hesitate, makes his stomach turn over and his throat tighten. Maybe it's because he doesn't want to know for certain, doesn't want to see that you're happy, that you've moved on, that you're doing well without him.

Maybe it's because he doesn't trust himself. He's different now, he knows that. He's different, and so are you. He doesn't know if he can face you, doesn't know if he'll be able to handle whatever is waiting for him. 

When he woke up in Rex’s arms and realized the galaxy had kept moving without him, he hadn’t thought much of it, solely focused on survival, on the fact that he was alive at all. He hadn't cared about what he'd missed, who he'd left behind. He hadn't known how much time had passed, and the thought that he was a dead man hadn't even crossed his mind. He hadn't thought about you, hadn't given himself the time or space to consider the consequences. You'd been the furthest thing from his mind. He'd had to keep fighting, to keep living. But once he had the time to think about it, to regret, well, it was...

It's different.

There's no other word for it. Everything is different.

Echo has had time, too much time, to think about you, to regret losing you. It's kept him up late into the night cycle, lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, thoughts running a mile a minute.

You'd been a good person, a better one than he could ever hope to be, and he had loved you, and then he had died.

Or, he had thought he'd died. Turns out he hadn't. That had been the only mercy.

You'd been the first and only person in his entire life to see him as something other than a soldier, and he'd loved you for it. You'd seen him, really seen him, and you hadn't run. He had been terrified by that, but it had also been the best feeling in the world. And he had taken advantage of it. He had let you in, he had let himself fall in love, and then he had died.

It's different, now. He's different. The galaxy's moved on, and he's a ghost, and he's scared. He doesn't know how to face you, doesn't know if he can. So when they’d made it out of Skako Minor and Rex had asked if he wanted to comm you, he’d said no. And he's been saying no every time since.

A small voice inside his head, one that sounds a lot like Fives, tells him that's bullshit.

His brother would have called him out on his cowardice, and Echo thinks that's a fair assessment. But even though he misses you and wants nothing more than to hear your voice, it's better this way. It's better if you don't see him like this, if you never find out the truth. The thought of you seeing him, of you seeing what's left of the man you knew, is too much. He can't do that to you.

It's better if you never see him again. It's better if you have closure, if you've moved on and don't think about him anymore.

You deserve more. You deserve someone who hasn't lost as much as he has, someone who you won't have to worry about, someone who will be there for you.

Someone who can give you the life you want.

Echo knows he can't do that. And maybe if he says that enough times, he'll finally believe it.

“Why are you still here?”

The sound of Tech’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He turns and finds his brother watching him from the doorway, an expression of vague curiosity on his face, a soldering iron twirling absently in his hand.

Echo shrugs.

Tech gives a short, impatient huff.

"That is not an answer," he says, crossing his arms and looking pointedly at Echo.

"I was just..." He trails off. Just what? Just looking out the window and moping? He sighs. "Nevermind."

Tech steps into the cockpit, looking unconvinced. Echo can tell he has a question on the tip of his tongue, can see him considering his options. Tech is not the most tactful person in the galaxy, and Echo isn't really in the mood to hear his thoughts, not when they're bound to be blunt. But instead of asking, his brother simply takes his seat beside him and begins tinkering with the dashboard, checking the systems.

The two of them are quiet for a moment, the only sound the clinking of the tools. Then Tech pauses and looks at Echo. 

Echo fidgets under his brother's gaze. "What?"

Tech doesn't respond right away, taking a second to look Echo over. His eyes flicker around the cockpit, as if the gauges and switchboards will give him some kind of clue, before coming back to his brother.

"There is nothing wrong with the ship," he says.

"Okay," Echo says, confused. "So?"

"So," Tech continues, "there is no reason for you to be here. We are scheduled to remain docked until 600 hours, and you have the day off. You could be anywhere."

Echo rolls his eyes, a prickle of annoyance flaring in his chest. "Yeah, well, I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are," Tech agrees. There's a moment where he considers something, and then he speaks again, "If I may offer a suggestion?"

"Go for it," Echo grumbles, not bothering to look at him.

"Go for a walk."

"A walk?"

"Yes. Physical activity is proven to improve mood and mental health. And you could do with the fresh air."

Echo frowns. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Tech says, not even pausing in his work, "that you've been spending an inordinate amount of time locked away in here."

"I'm not locked away," Echo protests.

"No, I suppose not. But you have not been yourself since we arrived."

Echo doesn't have an answer for that.

"Go for a walk," Tech repeats, and this time he does stop and turn to Echo. He leans back in his chair and removes his goggles, letting them rest on his forehead, and the intensity in his gaze makes Echo squirm a bit.

"Where?"

Tech gestures towards the open space in front of them, the sprawling metropolis. "There are a number of options available, I'm sure. There are parks, shopping districts, museums, restaurants..." He ticks the ideas off on his fingers one by one, and then points back to Echo. "Perhaps you should find out for yourself."

Echo snorts. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to," he says, the words coming out more defensively than he intended. "I'd rather just stay here."

"Yes, I can see that," Tech says dryly, and Echo gets the distinct impression that his brother is making fun of him.

He scowls.

Tech is undeterred. "But I don't think that is what you actually want to do."

Echo's mouth opens to argue, but then closes it just as quickly. He's not sure what to say, not sure if he wants to say anything. Tech isn't wrong. He doesn't really want to stay on the ship, not truly. The idea of getting out and going somewhere is tempting, and if he's being honest with himself, the last thing he wants to do is sit here, stewing in his thoughts alone. Or worse, with Tech.

And he does need to stretch his legs.

He looks out the window again, taking in the sight of the planet before him. He's not sure what's going to happen once they get the signal for the next job, if they'll ever be back. He might never have this opportunity again.

He takes a breath.

"Fine," he says, throwing his hands up in the air. "You win."

Tech's lips twitch, a barely contained smile. "As I usually do."

Echo shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. He starts to make his way towards the door, and stops beside his brother.

"Thanks," he says, placing a hand on Tech's shoulder.

"You are welcome," Tech nods. “Try to be back by 0600 hours. If you are late, we will leave without you.

Echo snorts. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

He leaves Tech there and heads to the ramp. His steps slow as he reaches the bottom, but he forces himself forward, out into the bright sunlight and fresh air.

Echo spends the next few hours wandering around Coruscant, letting his feet guide him.

He goes wherever the crowds take him, stopping at whatever catches his interest. It's nice, being able to let his mind go blank and not have to worry about where he's going. He doesn't have to think about anything, doesn't have to consider the consequences, or the risks.

He just exists.

And it feels good.

When he eventually decides to turn back, he's a bit surprised at how far he's come. He hadn't intended to venture so deep into the city, had just wanted a walk to clear his head. But the area he's found himself in is one he recognizes.

Your apartment is nearby.

Echo can feel his pulse start to quicken, his palm begins to sweat, and he stops in the middle of the walkway.

The sun has begun to set, and the crowds are thinning. You’ll be on your way home from work soon, if you weren’t already. His brain helpfully supplies the route you would take, and his eyes flit up towards the skyline. He can't see your building, but he knows it's there, not far away.

The knowledge sits heavy in his chest.

No, he tells himself, shaking his head. I shouldn't.

He has no way of knowing if you're even home. For all he knows, you could be busy, out with friends or maybe on a date.

Don't, his mind warns him. She's moved on. You shouldn't.

He hasn't been to your apartment since the morning he left. The memory is a sharp one, a jagged knife cutting through the fog of his past. He remembers the way your bed had felt, the warmth of your body, the sound of your breathing as you slept tucked against him.

It had been so peaceful.

It had been so easy to leave.

His mind starts to replay those moments, the goodbye you had given him, and it's like a punch to the gut. He knows how much you care about him, knows that if you were to see him again, that wouldn't have changed. You wouldn't turn him away.

The night before, you talked for hours. Your conversation had been punctuated with kisses and caresses, laughter and confessions. You told him how much you wanted him to stay, how much you wished he didn't have to leave, how much you wished things could be different. You talked about what the future might hold for the two of you, and he remembers how that felt, how it made him believe, even for just a moment, that things would work out.

They didn't, of course.

But Echo is still here, and so are you, and he can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, the galaxy might be giving him a second chance.

He takes a deep breath.

There's no harm in taking a detour, he thinks.

He walks, following the familiar path, trying not to think too hard about what he's doing.

It doesn't take him long to reach the building. He hesitates in front of it, looking up at the facade. It looks just as it did the last time he was here. Same lobby, same doorman, same lift. They haven’t even fixed the panel that's been sticking, and it takes a good deal of force for him to press the button for your floor.

The doors close, and he stares at his reflection, at the dark circles under his eyes, the scruff that has accumulated on his cheeks and chin, the lines that have appeared at the corners of his eyes and across his forehead. And then his gaze wanders to the ports and implants, the reminder of what was taken from him and what he was left with. He traces the outline of one with his thumb, remembering how he used to be.

He looks tired.

What are you doing? He asks himself.

He's not sure what he's expecting, doesn't have a plan for what will happen. All he knows is that he can't get the image of you out of his head. He imagines you coming home from work, and him being there, waiting. Would you be surprised? Happy? What would you say? What would he say?

Echo sighs.

He's an idiot.

The lift dings, and the doors slide open.

Your apartment is halfway down the hall, and Echo's stomach clenches with each step he takes. He reaches it and stands outside for a minute, running his fingers over the metal door, staring at the numbers painted on the surface.

It's just a door, he tells himself. Nothing special. Just a door.

His hand moves on its own, hovering over the bell. He waits, listens. There's no sound coming from inside, no music, no voices. Maybe you're not home yet.

Or maybe you're out. Maybe you're not alone.

He rings the bell and holds his breath, counting the seconds.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Nothing.

Echo rings again, this time holding the button down for a few extra seconds, listening for any sign of movement.

There's nothing.

The knot in his stomach tightens, and he releases the button, letting out the breath he'd been holding. He runs a hand over his face, feeling the heat of his skin through his glove. He's sweating.

Well, that's it, then.

He'd thought he was prepared for this possibility, but hearing the silence behind the door and knowing that you aren't home has shaken him more than he anticipated.

Maybe this is for the best, he thinks. It's better this way. Safer.

But the disappointment is palpable.

He's not sure what to do. He considers waiting a little longer, just to make sure, but the more he thinks about it, the more stupid it seems. He doesn't belong here anymore. He shouldn't be here, standing outside your door, hoping for something that won't happen.

He needs to go.

As Echo turns away from the door, a voice calls out behind him.

"Can I help you?"

For half a second, he's sure he imagined it, sure that it's just his brain playing tricks on him, taunting him. But then the voice speaks again.

"Are you looking for someone?"

Echo spins around, heart leaping into his throat, and there you are.

Standing there, a few paces away, is the woman he's been dreaming about, the one he's thought about every day, the one he's missed so much that it hurts.

Your hair is different, longer than he's ever seen it, pulled away from your face. You're wearing a dress, something he's only seen a handful of times, and your makeup is impeccable, but he can still see the hint of tiredness behind your eyes. He wonders how many hours you've put in at work this week, how much you've had to fight for your clients.

But the most noticeable change is that you're looking at him. Your datapad is held loosely in your hands, a bag of groceries on your hip, and you’re staring at him, your brow furrowed in confusion.

He doesn’t blame you.

This is a strange situation, and you must be wondering who the hell is standing in front of you, why they rang your bell and then walked away.

"Um," Echo says, suddenly aware that he hasn't spoken. He clears his throat, trying to gather his wits. He didn't think this through. "Hi."

You blink, clearly not expecting that response.

"Hi," you reply, warily.

Echo tries to say something, but the words won't come.

He's frozen in place, staring at you, unable to do anything except take in your appearance, drinking in the sight of you. He didn't realize how much he needed to see you until now, and the relief he feels is overwhelming.

"Do I..." You trail off, studying him carefully. "Do I know you?"

He feels his heart break, just a little.

You don't recognize him. Of course, you wouldn't. It's been so long, and he's not the same man you knew. His face is one of thousands, identical and interchangeable. He doesn't even look like a clone anymore, not really. He's more machine than man, now, and he has no idea how he expected you to see him.

"Yeah," he manages to say, his voice hoarse. "Yeah, you do."

You raise your eyebrows, waiting. When he doesn't say anything else, you take a step towards him, squinting a little. He can feel the tension in his body, can sense your scrutiny. It's not comfortable, but it's not unpleasant, either.

"Sorry," you say, sounding frustrated, "I can't quite —"

You stop, your eyes widening, and Echo can see the exact moment it clicks.

"Oh," you gasp, covering your mouth with a shaking hand. The motion makes the paper bag of groceries on your arm start to slip, and Echo rushes forward to catch it, placing it on the floor by your feet. He stands up, and he can feel your eyes on him, can see the tears beginning to well up, can hear your breathing quicken.

He waits.

"Echo?" Your voice is soft, tentative, like you're not sure if he's real or not. Like he's some kind of ghost. He's not sure that's not what he is.

"Hey, cyar'ika," he says. His voice cracks, and he clears his throat again.

A small, incredulous laugh escapes you.

"Hi," you breathe. You cover your mouth again, trying to stifle the sob that rises from your chest. "I —" 

You let out a shaky breath, and then another, and then all of a sudden, you're crying, tears streaming down your face. Your hands come up to wipe them away, but more keep falling, and Echo is overwhelmed with the desire to hold you, to take away the pain and the sadness, to make everything right. But he doesn't know if he's allowed, doesn't know if it would be welcome. So instead, he just stands there, helpless.

"I'm sorry," you hiccup, wiping your face with the back of your hand. "I can't believe it's you."

He smiles at that, his own eyes burning. "It's me," he confirms. "I'm here."

You're shaking your head, your eyes never leaving his face, as if you're afraid that he might disappear if you look away. He doesn't blame you, and he does his best to stay as still as possible. The last thing he wants is to scare you, or make you think he's going to leave. Not when he just got here.

"I thought..." You start, and then trail off.

"I know."

You swallow hard, taking a moment to compose yourself. "I thought you were dead."

Echo winces. He's heard those words from a lot of people, but coming from you, they hurt. "Yeah, I, uh... I thought so, too, for a while."

He sees the look of horror that crosses your face, the way your eyes grow wet again, and he wishes he hadn't said it.

"How... How long have you been back?" you ask. Your voice is quiet, strained, and Echo can hear the question underneath, the one you're afraid to ask. The one that makes his stomach twist into knots.

"Not long," he answers, trying to keep his tone even, light. "Only a couple months, really."

"Months?" you repeat, incredulous. "You've been back for months?"

Echo shifts uncomfortably and nods. "Yeah."

You stare at him, your mouth opening and closing as you search for words. "And... And you didn't comm me?"

"I, uh... No."

You let out a sharp exhale and turn away, bringing your hands to your face, and he can see that you're starting to shake again. You're silent for a moment, and he can feel his heart pounding, can feel the blood rushing in his ears. His stomach churns, and he feels like he's going to be sick.

"Why?" Your voice is tight, controlled. It's the same voice you use when you're working, the one you use to keep yourself calm, to keep yourself from getting angry.

"I just... I wasn't..." Echo trails off, not sure what to say. I wasn't sure if I was coming back? That's true, but not the whole truth. I wasn't sure you'd want to see me? Also true, but also not the full answer. I wasn't sure I was worth it? Yeah, that's the one.

But he can't say it.

He doesn't know if it's fear or guilt or shame, but whatever it is, it keeps the words stuck in his throat. You're waiting for an answer, and he's not sure he has one.

"Echo," you say, your voice a warning. You turn to face him again, and he can see the hurt and frustration in your eyes. He wants to hold you, wants to apologize, wants to take it all back. But he doesn't move. He can't.

"Why?" you repeat, more forcefully this time.

"I didn't want to bother you," he says. It's the best answer he can come up with, and the worst part is that it's also true. At least, that's what he tells himself.

But the moment the words leave his mouth, he knows it's the wrong thing to say. You stiffen, and then your jaw tightens. He can tell that you're barely holding it together, and he wants to say something, to explain, but he doesn't get the chance.

"You didn't want to bother me," you repeat, and Echo can hear the anger in your voice, can feel the sting of it. "I'm sorry, did I not make it clear how much I care about you?"

"No, you did," Echo says, backtracking, trying to placate you. "You did, I promise."

"Then please explain how you thought keeping me in the dark about the fact that the man I love was still alive and well was not a bother."

The word "love" hits him like a punch to the gut.

You love him. You still love him. You're still here, and you're still loving him, even after everything. He doesn't understand, doesn't know why. Doesn't know how. But he doesn't have time to think about it, not with the way you're looking at him, the hurt and confusion clear on your face.

"That's not what I meant," he says, his voice low, pleading. "It's not that. I promise."

You let out a shaky sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. "What's the difference, then?"

Echo opens his mouth, and then closes it again, not knowing what to say.

"I mourned you," you say. Your voice is soft, almost a whisper, but it sounds loud in the silence between the two of you. "I loved you, and I mourned you, and I was doing okay, and then you just show up, and act like it's no big deal, like I didn't spend weeks, months waiting for you to come back, hoping you'd come back, and..."

Your voice cracks, and a fresh wave of tears begins to roll down your cheeks. Echo reaches out to brush them away, and you flinch. The motion stings, but he doesn't say anything, doesn't push it. He lets his hand drop to his side.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't... I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Yeah, well, you did," you say, sniffling.

The words hit him harder than he expects, and he feels his throat tighten.

"I didn't know what to say," he admits, his voice breaking. "I didn't know what to do."

"Why not?" you ask, and your anger has softened, turning into something else. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" Echo says quickly. "Of course not. You were perfect. You were... You were amazing."

You look at him, and there's a vulnerability in your eyes that makes him want to gather you in his arms and never let go. He thinks maybe he should. But before he can, you speak.

"So what happened?" you ask. Your voice is quiet, but Echo can hear the desperation, the need for an answer. "Where were you? Why didn't you come back?"

“I—“ Echo looks around, suddenly aware of the hallway and the closed doors surrounding him, closing in on him. The space is too small, the walls are too close, the air is too thick. He feels trapped, like the world is closing in around him, and he takes a step back.

"Can we... Can we not do this out here?" he asks, trying not to let his voice betray his panic.

You study him for a moment, considering. He doesn't blame you. After all, he'd shown up out of the blue, and you had every right to be suspicious. You're still crying, but there's a steeliness in your gaze, and he can tell you're weighing your options, deciding if he's worth it or not. His heart hammers against his ribs as he waits, praying that you'll give him a chance.

Finally, you let out a sigh and nod.

"Yeah," you say, "sure."

You bend down to pick up the groceries, and Echo rushes forward, scooping them up before you can. You look at him, surprised.

"Let me help," he says. "Please."

You hesitate, and Echo can see the worry on your face, but then you nod, fumbling for the keypad. The lock clicks open, and you push the door open, motioning for him to go ahead.

He steps inside, and the familiar scent of your apartment hits him hard. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it, how much he'd come to associate it with safety and comfort. It makes his chest ache, and he takes a moment to steady himself, willing the tears to stop.

Your apartment is the same, and yet so different.

It's still cozy, but there's a coldness to the air, a lack of warmth. The curtains are closed, and the room is dark, the only light coming from the dim bulb above the stove in the kitchen. There are dishes stacked in the sink, and a few pieces of dirty laundry have been discarded on the couch. The floor is littered with shoes and other miscellaneous items, as if someone came home and kicked everything off their feet, leaving it all in a pile. Echo’s brow furrows at the mess, and he wonders when you started to let the place get this way.

"I'm sorry," you say, sounding embarrassed. You take the bag of groceries from him, your cheeks flushed. "I wasn't expecting company."

"Don't worry about it," he assures you.

"Here, let me..." You trail off, disappearing down the hall, and a moment later, he hears a door slam shut.

Echo stands there, unsure of what to do. His gaze wanders around the room, taking everything in, trying to find something to occupy himself with. It feels like years since he's been here, and the sensation is both comforting and strange. He remembers the nights he spent curled up next to you on the couch, the quiet mornings in the kitchen, the lazy afternoons spent in bed.

He shakes his head, trying to focus on the present.

You're back now, and he needs to concentrate.

He takes a seat at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers against the wood.

It's quiet, but Echo can hear you moving around, and he wonders if you're trying to clean up, trying to make the place a little more presentable. He doesn't care about any of that. He cares about you.

And he doesn't know what to say.

He runs his hand over his face, pressing the heel of his palm into his eye, trying to think. He's rehearsed this moment in his head, has imagined all the different ways it could go.

And now that it's actually happening, he can't remember a single one.

He's such an idiot.

The minutes pass, and you finally return. He hears you enter the room, the soft sound of your footsteps, but he can't bring himself to look up. Not yet.

"Echo," you say, and he can hear the hesitation in your voice. "What happened?"

"I don't know where to start," he confesses, dropping his hand and glancing up at you.

You've changed into something more comfortable, a pair of sweatpants and your favorite sweater, and your face is scrubbed clean, makeup-free. It's nice to see you this way, a reminder of the times you shared together, and the sight makes him smile.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Nothing, it's just..." He pauses, his eyes wandering over you. "I forgot how you looked in sweatpants."

You roll your eyes, but there's a hint of amusement on your face. "Seriously? You're sitting here, after being missing for months, and you're making fun of my fashion choices?"

"I'm not making fun of you," he says, chuckling. The pressure in his chest eases slightly, and he takes a breath. "I just meant that I missed seeing you this way."

You let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh, and then shake your head.

"You're unbelievable," you mutter.

Echo smiles, and for a moment, he feels normal. As if the last year never happened, and this was just a day like any other. As if he'd just come home from a mission, and you'd greet him with a kiss, and everything would be fine.

But then you sigh, and the moment is over.

"Look, I get that this is... Well, I'm sure this isn't what you were expecting," you say. You move to sit across from him, leaning your elbows on the table and resting your chin in your hands. "But we can't keep pretending like nothing happened. You have to talk to me."

Echo stares at you, his eyes taking in the familiar lines of your face, the curve of your lips, the color of your eyes. They aren’t as bright as he remembered, not as full of life, and the realization breaks his heart. This isn't how it's supposed to be.

"Okay," he begins, clearing his throat. "So, uh, this is going to be a lot."

"That's okay," you say gently. You give him a reassuring nod, and Echo feels a swell of gratitude for you. "Just... Start at the beginning, and we'll go from there."

"Right, the beginning." Echo nods, trying to organize his thoughts, and then he starts to speak.

He tells you everything, from the moment the explosion happened, to the moment he woke up and found himself in Rex's arms, everything in between. He tells you about his injuries, the surgeries, the physical therapy. He tells you about his time with the Batch, his newfound abilities, the things he's been able to do, the things he's learned. He talks about the missions, the jobs, the danger they've faced, and the risks they've taken. He tells you about the planets, the people, the experiences. He tries to leave nothing out, even the hard parts. The loss, the pain, the fear. He doesn't want to spare you any of it.

You sit there and listen, asking questions when necessary, but mostly staying silent. And when he's done, he sits there, feeling a strange sense of relief. He hadn't realized how much he needed to talk about everything, how much he'd been holding in. And he hadn't realized how good it would feel to tell you. To have someone who cared, someone he trusted, who knew him better than anyone.

When the words run out, and the room is silent, you let out a long, slow exhale. You sit there, your hands folded together, your gaze fixed on the tabletop, and Echo waits, not sure what to expect. But the longer the silence drags on, the more worried he gets.

"Cyar'ika?" he asks, his voice hesitant.

You take a breath and look up at him, and Echo is startled to see that your eyes are glassy, and there are fresh tear tracks running down your cheeks.

"Sorry," you apologize, wiping at them with your sleeve. "I'm not — I just..."

You take another breath, and then let it out, composing yourself. "Thank you," you say. "For telling me. I know that can't have been easy."

"It wasn't," Echo admits, and his throat tightens a little. "But I'm glad I did."

You offer him a small smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You look like you’re far away, lost in your own thoughts, and Echo has a feeling you're not fully present, not in the moment. And he doesn't blame you. His words can't have been easy to hear.

"Is there anything else you want to know?" he asks, trying to break the silence.

You glance at him, your eyes focusing, and then look away, your jaw clenching. Echo can see the emotion on your face, can tell that you're struggling to stay calm, to hold it together. You've always been good at that, he thinks.

"I just..." You pause, taking a shaky breath, and Echo can see the tears forming in your eyes again. "I just don't understand."

He frowns, confused. "What do you mean?"

You close your eyes, taking a moment to collect yourself. Then, you stand up and begin pacing around the kitchen, your hands clasped behind your back. You move slowly, deliberately, your gaze fixed on the floor, like you're trying to make sense of something, figure something out. 

Echo watches you, feeling uneasy. You're not giving anything away, and the silence is starting to get to him. He's never seen you in the courtroom, but he imagines this is the stance you take when you're interrogating a witness. 

It's effective.

"Can you say something, please?" he asks. He knows he sounds desperate, but he doesn't care.

"I'm thinking," you say, and Echo bites his lip.

He feels like he's going to crawl out of his skin. He wants to get up, to follow you around the room, try to coax a response out of you. He wants to make this better, to make this right. But he knows that pushing you won't help, so he stays seated, trying to keep his patience.

 You continue to pace, your expression blank, and the seconds tick by, the only sound the muffled noises of the city outside. It feels like an eternity has passed when you finally stop, standing in front of him, your arms crossed.

"I can't believe you thought I wouldn't want to see you," you say. Your voice is low, almost a whisper, and there's an edge to it that Echo doesn't recognize. It's not anger, not exactly. It's something else, something deeper.

"I know," he replies, his voice just as quiet.

"I thought you were dead," you say, the words coming out in a rush. "I grieved you. I mourned you. And then you show up, and you're... You're alive, and you're here, and you think the best thing to do is to leave me alone?"

"I didn't know what would happen," Echo explains, trying to keep his tone calm. "I wasn't sure if I was coming back, and I didn't want to —"

"No," you say sharply, cutting him off. "That's not an excuse. That's bullshit, and you know it."

Echo swallows, and nods, not sure what to say.

"We made promises," you continue, and Echo can hear the anger in your voice, can see the frustration on your face. "To each other. We talked about our future, we said things that... We made things that were real, and then you just decided it was too much, and you walked away. What the hell is that?"

"I'm sorry," Echo says around the lump forming in his throat. "I shouldn't have —"

"No," you interrupt, your eyes burning. "You shouldn't have."

Echo looks at you, and he feels like he's going to shatter. You’re staring at him with such intensity, and there's an anger in your gaze that he hasn't seen before. It's so different from the gentle look you usually give him, and it makes him ache.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he says. "I swear, I didn't."

"Then why did you?" you ask, and there's a note of pleading in your voice. “I spent so long wondering, worrying, and you just... You didn't care."

"Of course I did," he argues. "It wasn't about that."

"Then what was it about, Echo?" you demand. "What was so important that you thought you couldn't tell me? That you couldn't comm me, or send a message, or do anything that would have let me know you were alive? That would have told me you were okay?"

"I didn't think —"

"What, that I'd care? That I'd worry? That I'd miss you? That I'd wonder where you were, and if you were okay, and what the hell happened to you?" you say, your voice rising.

Echo can feel the frustration building inside him, and he knows he shouldn't respond, knows that getting angry won't help, but the words tumble out before he can stop them. "I'm sorry," he snaps. "I wasn't exactly thinking clearly."

"That's not an excuse," you snap back, and Echo blinks, shocked. You're the most level-headed person he's ever met, and he's never heard you yell before.

"Yeah, well, it's the best one I've got," he says.

"Echo, I loved you," you say, and the past tense stings. "When Fives told me what happened to you, I —" Your voice catches, and the fight goes out of him. He can see the pain on your face, the hurt in your eyes, and he can't help but feel responsible. "I can't even describe it. It felt like my whole world was ending. And I don’t blame you for doing your duty, but I do blame you for not coming back to me."

"I know," he whispers. "I'm sorry. I really am."

You shake your head, turning away from him. "Why didn't you comm me?"

Echo hesitates. He doesn't want to admit his fears, his worries, the insecurities that have plagued him. He doesn't want to tell you how much he doubted, how much he doubted you. It feels too vulnerable, too raw. And it would only make you feel worse. But the longer the silence stretches, the more you deserve the truth. And he can't avoid it forever.

"I didn't think I was worth it," he says, his voice low. He can feel the heat in his cheeks, the sting of embarrassment. He can't look at you, doesn't want to see the pity, the disappointment, the anger. "I didn't think I was worth it."

You turn to face him, your expression softening.

"You were all I had left," he says. He feels exposed, and it's not a comfortable feeling, but he can't stop now. Not with the way you're looking at him. Not when he's so close to fixing this, to getting you back. "After everything that happened, I just... I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't think you'd want to see me."

"You really thought I'd just leave you?"

Echo can hear the hurt in your voice, and he's surprised at the sharpness of it. He expected to be met with some amount of anger, but he didn't expect it to cut so deep. He didn't think his insecurities would upset you so much. He's used to it, by now. After everything he's been through, the doubts and worries have become a constant, an almost comforting presence. But you were never supposed to know about them.

"It's not that," he says. "I know you wouldn't have left me. It's just... I didn't want to drag you down with me."

"That's stupid," you reply. There's no malice in your voice, but there's no sympathy, either. "What makes you think I couldn't handle it?"

"It's not about what you could handle," Echo says. "You didn't sign up for this. You didn't sign up for any of it."

"I signed up for you," you argue, and Echo is startled by the fierceness of your tone.

"And look at what that got you."

You fall silent, and Echo regrets the words the second they leave his mouth. He's always known he wasn't good enough for you, but it's different to actually say it out loud. It makes it real. And he's not sure he's ready for that. But you're looking at him like you can't believe he said it, and the disappointment in your eyes makes him feel even worse. 

Your eyes rove over him, taking in the scarring, the metal implants, the ports and wires, the armor. You look like you’re seeing him for the first time, and the disgust and fear he’d thought might appear are nowhere to be found, just a profound sense of sadness and resignation.

"Oh, Echo," you breathe. The words are quiet, but they feel like a slap, and he has to look away, not wanting to meet your gaze.

"I'm not the man you knew," he says. He sounds defeated, even to his own ears. His eyes are burning, and he has to fight to keep the tears from falling. He hates how weak he feels, how small, how vulnerable. "I can't be. I'm... I'm not him anymore."

"Yes, you are," you insist. You reach out and take his hand, squeezing gently, and the sensation makes him jump. He'd almost forgotten how warm you are, how soft. How safe. He wants to hold on, to pull you close, to never let go. "You're still the same man, the same Echo, I just..."

"What?" he asks, when you trail off. "You just what?"

You sigh, dropping his hand and running your fingers through your hair, tugging lightly. The familiar gesture makes him ache. "I don't know, Echo," you admit. "I'm... I'm sad. And I'm angry. But I'm mostly just... Confused."

"Confused about what?"

"I'm confused as to why you didn't come back to me," you say. "I'm confused as to why you thought I'd want anything else."

"I thought you deserved better," he says, the words sounding hollow, even to his own ears. "I thought you deserved someone who was whole, who could give you a normal life, who didn't have a hundred years of baggage and trauma to deal with. And I was terrified that you already had that."

"Had what?"

"A normal life," he answers. "Without me. And the more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself it was true."

"It's not," you say. Your voice is quiet, but firm, and Echo looks at you, searching for any trace of doubt, of hesitation, of insincerity. But all he finds is determination, and it makes his heart clench. The intensity in your gaze is too much, and he has to look away. His eyes trail over the walls, the ceiling, the floor, lingering on the groceries on the table, the dishes in the sink, the empty bottles of wine shoved into the trash, the pile of laundry on the couch. There’s a dent in the wall that wasn't there the last time he was here, and the carpet is worn. He wonders when that happened.

He feels a tug on his arm, and then you're reaching up to cup his face, your hands soft and warm. You turn his head to face you, your thumb stroking his cheek. The touch is gentle, comforting, and Echo can't stop the sigh that escapes him. It's been so long since someone touched him like this, and it's nice. It's more than nice. It's familiar. It's safe. It's home.

"I only wanted you," you whisper.

"Even after everything?" he asks. He doesn't mean to sound so incredulous, but he can't help it. He's spent so long convincing himself that you were better off without him, and now, hearing you say the opposite, hearing you say the words he'd only ever hoped for, the ones he'd tried to convince himself were true... It's a lot to take in.

"Even after everything," you affirm.

"You could have had anyone," he says. "Why me?"

"Because I love you," you answer, as if it's the simplest thing in the galaxy. As if it's the most obvious thing in the universe. "And I don't want anyone else."

"Cyar'ika..." His voice cracks, and the tears are falling freely now. You wipe them away, and the touch makes his chest ache.

"I've never stopped loving you, Echo," you say. Your voice is barely audible, but Echo hears it. And it's the best sound he's ever heard. "And I don't plan on stopping now."

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry I left you, and I'm sorry I didn't comm you, and I'm sorry I was such a coward, and I'm —"

"Shh," you murmur, cutting him off. "I forgive you."

Echo can't speak. He's not sure he can move, can't even breathe. The relief is overwhelming, and it threatens to knock him off his feet. His chest tightens, and the tears won't stop falling, and he doesn't know what to do. He's missed you so much, has regretted leaving every single day, and now that you're here, now that he has you back, he can't find the words to express how grateful he is, how relieved, how happy.

"You really thought I was going to leave you?" you ask, and Echo can hear the note of humor in your voice, can see the ghost of a smile on your face. It's reassuring, and he lets himself smile, too.

"Honestly? Yes," he admits.

"Never," you reply.

Echo leans down and rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. You move your hands down his face, brushing the tears away with your thumbs, before bringing them around his neck, wrapping your arms around him. He moves to do the same, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around your waist. You let out a quiet gasp of surprise, and Echo chuckles, holding you tighter.

"I missed you," he whispers, and it feels good to say the words out loud. "So much."

"I missed you, too," you say, your breath warm against his neck. You tilt your head and press a kiss against his throat, and Echo feels his heart stutter. "More than I can say."

Echo hums and pulls away, bringing his hand up to brush the hair away from your face. Your skin is warm, and soft, and he leans in and presses a kiss against your forehead, savoring the contact. You sigh, and he can't resist the urge to kiss you again, this time on the cheek.

"Echo," you murmur, letting out a shaky breath.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, and then your jaw, and your grip on his neck tightens, your fingers digging into the fabric of his blacks. He moves down your throat, trailing kisses along the column of your neck, and you gasp.

"I missed you, too," he murmurs, and you laugh.

"Yeah, I got that," you say. "Now, will you please kiss me?"

Echo smiles and obliges.

The kiss is soft and sweet, and it tastes like home. He cups the back of your neck, his scomp moving to rest on your hip, and you let out a pleased noise, your hands sliding down to his shoulders. The warmth of your mouth, the way your lips part, the little gasps and sighs you make, it all makes him want to get closer, to be nearer.

You break the kiss, and Echo lets out a quiet whimper. You chuckle and rest your head on his shoulder, and Echo brings his hand up to stroke your hair, his fingers combing through the strands. You sigh and lean into his touch, and he can't help the contented smile that spreads across his face.

"I'm glad you're here," you murmur. "I'm glad you came back."

"Me, too," he says. He tilts your head up and presses a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering. You close your eyes and nuzzle his neck, and Echo sighs, holding you close. It feels so good to have you in his arms again, to be able to hold you, and he wishes he could stay here forever. But the reality of the situation catches up with him, and he can't help the wave of guilt that washes over him.

"I'm sorry, Cyar'ika," he says.

You frown, and pull away slightly. "What are you apologizing for?"

"I didn't think this through," he admits. "I... I didn't know what was going to happen, and now..." He pauses, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I just... I'm sorry. I’m leaving soon, and I know it's going to be hard, and I know you're going to have to say goodbye again, and I'm —"

"Echo," you interrupt, and your voice is firm. You put your hand on his chest, and he can feel the heat of it, even through the layers of armor and clothing. "I know what I signed up for. I'm not expecting anything different."

"But —"

"No," you cut him off. "No buts. I knew what this was, Echo. And I still want it."

"But you shouldn't have to," Echo argues. "I don't want to put you through that."

"Well, it's a little late for that," you reply. Your tone is sharp, and Echo winces. "Look, Echo. I know the situation isn't ideal, but I'm not going to walk away because it's hard. And I'm not going to stop caring just because it hurts." You look at him, and the determination in your gaze makes his heart skip a beat. "You're worth it, okay? No matter what."

"Cyar'ika —"

"No," you say, shaking your head. "You're not changing my mind. You can try, but it's not going to work. So don't waste your time." You give him a stern look, and then your face softens. "Okay?"

"Okay," Echo agrees. He knows it's futile to argue. He's never been able to say no to you. Not when it matters. "I'm still sorry, though."

You roll your eyes, and then stand on your toes and give him a quick kiss. "You're lucky I love you," you say, and the words make him feel lighter.

"Yeah, I am," he agrees, grinning.

"So, what now?" you ask.

Echo shrugs, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. He's been so focused on finding you, on convincing you to forgive him, on making things right, that he hasn't thought about what comes next. The prospect of it is both exhilarating and terrifying, and he doesn't know where to start. There's so much to do, and so little time. And he doesn't want to waste another second.

"Do you want to stay?" you offer.

"Stay?"

"Here," you clarify. "For a while. I don't know how long you can, but..." You pause, a flush spreading across your cheeks. “I was going to make dinner. If you wanted to stay."

"Dinner?" Echo repeats, and he can't hide the excitement in his voice. The idea of a home-cooked meal is so far removed from his life now, so distant, that the thought of it almost makes him lightheaded. "Really?"

You laugh, and the sound fills him with warmth. "Yes, Echo. Really."

"What are you making?" he asks. The question sounds childish, and he can't believe how eager he is, how excited.

"Just a simple dish," you say. You move towards the counter and begin putting the groceries away, and Echo follows you, a smile spreading across his face. While you tell him about the recipe, he moves toward your sink, picking up a dish and turning the water on. You look over at him, and the fondness in your eyes makes him blush. "You don't have to do that, Echo."

"I know," he replies. "I want to."

"Well, alright then."

The two of you work together, talking and laughing as you wash the dishes and prepare the food. Echo feels lighter than he has in months, and it's a relief to be here with you, to have something normal and familiar to do. Something so domestic, so ordinary, and yet, so special.

He wants to remember this.

When the food is ready, you gesture to the table, and Echo takes a seat. You sit across from him, and for a moment, the two of you just look at each other. He's missed you, missed this. Missed being here, missed having someone who knew him, someone he could trust. Someone he could love.

You're both quiet, and Echo can see the wheels turning in your head, can see the way your eyes dart over him, taking everything in. You're cataloging, committing him to memory too. The realization hits him, and his chest tightens. He'll be leaving soon, and you're doing what you can to make sure you won't forget him. It's a sobering thought, and he's not sure how to handle it.

"Hey," you say, and Echo looks up, meeting your gaze. "It's okay. We'll be fine."

"How did you know?" he asks, startled.

You shrug. "It's written all over your face."

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I wish I could stay."

"It's okay," you repeat. “We have the night, and that’s more than enough. For now, let's just enjoy the time we have."

Echo nods.

You're right.

You always are.

You smile, and it's so beautiful, so genuine, that it takes his breath away. You reach across the table and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He squeezes back, and you lean forward, resting your elbows on the table and putting your chin in your hand. The way you're looking at him, the affection in your eyes, it makes him feel like he's the only thing that matters, like he’s home.

And, right now, he is.

He's missed this.

He's missed you.

And as the two of you sit there, enjoying each other's company, Echo knows he's made the right choice. He knows that coming back was worth it, that finding you, fixing things, making things right, it's all been worth it. And he knows that, no matter what, he'll be back.

He'll find his way back to you.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

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@marchingviolinist @deerspringdreams

[lit3rallyll0yd]

Hey I just wanted to say I love your writing so much it's just 😼😍 if Ykyk and feel free to ignore this request but if you want to could you do ninjago character is basically a rich aunt and grew up with the ninja go character (plus harumi up to you) sorry if I'm not that detailed

have a good day 😼🐮

ninjago x reader: them with a reader who is their rich aunt. ft. ninjas<3 (≧ᗜ≦)

characters: lloyd, kai & nya, jay, cole, and zane

synopsis: basically the reader is the ninjas rich aunts, who they haven't seen in a while.

a/n: tbh i was struggling to understand this request, nothing against you anon, im just bad at reading n understanding, lol. so we ended up with this idea<3

i would add harumi, however my poor fingers hurt so much😞

short, headcanon format, female reader

artist cr: min-play

☆ LLOYD.

. you are misako's sister. she knew the second lloyd was born you were going to spoil this kid like crazy.

. before he was even born you already bought him things. new sets of clothing, baby toys, even some baby food you might know if he'll even like.

. when lloyd was born you swore to protect him no matter what. that was until you found out from your sister he was the green ninja?

. the kid is now at least 11 and his own mother enrolls him in the Darkly School for Bad Boys?

. she told you she left him for a good reason, and it will all make sense in the future.

. you decided to take her word for it, and years passed. you haven't seen your sister nor your nephew since.

. large timeskip, lloyd has aged, he has found his true family in the ninja. sure he reconnected with his mother but he still doesnt trust her much...until he heard her side of this whole story.

. lloyd and her have gotten closer once more, and misako decided to bring you up.

. lloyd had no idea how to react. he barely remembers you, however you remember him. he kinda feels guilty.

. you squish his cheeks together when finally seeing him again, "Oh, look at you!! you've grown up so much~ i remember when you were just a little babyyy! i can see where you got the looks from~"

. it takes a while, just like how lloyd was with his mother, but he glad to have met you once again.

. he asks you both about his father, and you have alot to say about that man.

. even at his age, you still spoil him much to his mothers liking. but who listens to their siblings anyways?

☆ KAI & NYA

. you were ray's sister, and maya loved you. she the first to tell you she was pregnant with the two, and you. went. bananas.

. when both kai and nya were born, you fell in love with them immediately.

. while they were kids you would come visit them, kai was extra excited for your visits because you always had a present for the two.

. ray and Maya just enjoyed your company, although nya was really shy around you first.

. she was a mama's baby, qnd loved to be in her mother's arms so everytime you come over she's in her mama's arms, hiding her face in her chest.

. the more you visit, the more she starts to trust you. ray and maya were surprised when nya started to cry when you had to go home one evening

. seeing them again after many years was very emotional for you, not them, though.

. "im sorry, who are you?" kai asked, seeing a random lady hug his little sister.

. "silly, im your auntie. your father's sister, to be specific, i never did really like labels!"

. "our...huh?"

. it's mostly like the relationship misako and lloyd have, but just you and the smith siblings.

. nya tries to be as kind as possible toward you, kai of course as well, however you and nya seem to have more of a bond.

☆ COLE

. your lou's sister. you never had a passion for singing like your brother, but you were pretty successful in the arts department.

. you were a pretty famous artist, almost everyone in ninjago knows your name.

. your art is seen from lou's dining room, to the ninjagos art museum.

. lou was the one who told you lily, his wife was pregnant. you asked many questions, but the big question was the gender.

. when finding out, because lily wanted to know the gender before birth, you started buying anything "baby boy" related.

. blue. that's what you first think of when a baby boy is coming, right?

. timeskip, yahoo, cole is born and sadly you've had to move away for a business emergency.

. you had a feeling cole wouldn't remember who you were, he was only just born when you had to move.

. before his mothers passing, lily tried to best to keep memory of you around the house, hopefully so little cole could remember some fragments of you.

. he..he didn't, lmao.

. you visit lou one day, and surprisingly, his son, cole, who is now a teenager, also seems to be visiting his father with you, who assumed his friends.

. you pinch his cheeks after hugging him and kissing him all over. cole was beyond uncomfortable and confused.

. "y/n, please, take it easy-"

. "you try not seeing your nephew for years and suddenly seeing him randomly out of no where, lou!"

. "...i...i did, however in this case he is my son."

. you, lou, and cole have had some time to discuss about who you are and coles eyes lit up.

. "you were my mother's best friend? could you maybe, tell me more about her?"

. you smiled, "let's start off with, your mother was the kindest and sweetest soul in the world."

☆ JAY

. let's make this simple. your edna's long time best friend. so you pretty much the same age as her.

. obviously ed and edna are jay's adopted parents, you found out by visiting the junkyard one day and seeing...baby...in Edna's arms.

. she was feeding him a bottle. he was so small, he hits perfectly in your sister's arms.

. "now i may be old, but i ain't stupid, sista'. why didn't you tell me you adopted?"

. edna laughed, "oh dear, no, this little one showed up on our doorstep last night. we couldn't just leave the poor thing there, we had to take him in. and we don't have the guts to let him go just yet so...ed is figuring out the adoption papers..."

. ever since that day, you have been coming around more often to help the elders take care of jay.

. jay was homeschooled, of course when he was old enough; ed taught him the abc's and 123's.

. you would help of course. you would spoil this boy to your full extent.

. he wanted this toy? it's his. wants mcdonalds? one happy meal please. is upset? two tickets to the mega monster amusement park!

. of course, you had a life of your own. you've barely had time to see ed, edna and jay anymore because of your work.

. so one day, ed and edna mailed you a letter, saying they will visit iay and invited you to come. maybe jay will remember you?

. timeskip to them pulling up to the bounty and jay's confused face.

. "ma, who is that?" jay asked looking at you with a confused look.

. yall had the talk about who you are and jay felt terrible for not remembering you. he always assumed his "dad" was taking him to all the amusement parks.

. he tried to catch up with you, wanting to know more of your life and your work placement.

. little does he know, ed and edna have been telling you mall the embarrassing stories he's gone through as a kid; your favorite being his kissing pillow?

. didn't you buy him that pillow?

☆ ZANE

. your dr. juliens younger sister.

. you were astonished at his latest "creation", zane. you were there when zane came fully online, and was "alive".

. he was almost like a human, he had human emotions of course he didn't know that yet. he was basically just born.

. upon hearing of your brothers death, you were deeply affected. you left ninjago for a little while, forgetting the world but never forgetting zane.

. you regret leaving him alone. but you weren't in the condition to be taking care if someone. you have to take care of yourself first.

. timeskip, years passed and you have received a letter from an old friend, inviting you to come back to ninjago and visit you.

. he mentioned zane, so you of course agreed.

. the address lead you to a monestary. you were a bit confused buy you knocked on the large doors.

. moments later, the doors open wide to revel a figure dressed in a white ninja gi, who looked back at you twice as confused as you.

. "good morning, stranger. what brings you to the monestary?" he asked and you felt your heart drop.

. "zane?"

. he tilt his head to the side, "yes...that is my name...how do you know my name?"

. other male voice cuts you off, "yo, zane- who's there?"

. eventually, your old friend who invited you here in the first place appeared beside zane and with a smile invited inside their home.

. insert the other three boys, jay, cole, and kai confused and asking each other questions while zane, master wu, and you spoke in a separate room.

. "so...your my father sister?"

. you smiled and nodded, "i never thought i would see you again!" you hugged the boy who froze at your touch, but politely hugged you back.

. you are family after all.

. you feel so bad for leaving zane all alone, possibly confused and lost until he found sensei wu and the other ninja, but that doesn't stol you from spoiling the heck out of the four boys.

. "but...y/n, i have already forgiven you. we do not need your-"

. jay covered zane's mouth, laughing sheepishly as kai spoke up, holding a bunch of video games you have given to them..

. "oh nono- please, we are more then happy to receive these gifts. your more then kind."

. cole nods in agreement.

. you smile and leave their gaming room, only to have master wu smack each of the boys, beside zane, on the heads

☆ i think i went a bit overbored 😭

[gilverrwrites]

Have we discussed Roman’s separated wife hooking up with Bruce Wayne? You and Bruce have always been cordial, so when Roman doxxes you, Bruce lets you stay at the Manor and cry on his shoulder until the wine bottle is empty. He’s so nice and his hand is so warm on your cheek and oh Lord, it’s bigger than your face and you can’t remember the last time you felt safe while a man was touching you. You try to make a move, but Bruce knows he’s overindulged you (partially to get info about Roman but he’ll feel guilty about it later), so he stops you…but promises he’ll be more than ready and willing when you’re in your right mind and decide you still want this. You wait anxiously the entirety of the next day, until Bruce shows up at your door in the sluttiest t-shirt and sweatpants you’ve ever seen, his ginormous hand finding its place on your face again while the other one is slipping under the hem of your shirt.

Slutty top? You've hit a nerve anon, cause now all I'm thinking about is Brucie in a slutty little crop top, like sir put that washboard away before I bite it! Honestly, feral for anyone of any shape and size in a crop top, just show me your belly, please. Yeah, that would work on me.

But to answer your question, no we have not discussed this but we certainly can!!!!

Like, I can say earnestly, when he invited you to stay with him, sleeping with you did not cross his mind; he was purely thinking about;

Helping you get out of a bad situation

Good for the Brucie Wayne image (so long as the press don't get wind of it until you've found somewhere permanent to move too)

(as mentioned) Chance to get info on Black Mask

But the moment you flash that perfectly poised smile, even though you’re clearly on the brink of tears, he's thinking ‘Uh oh. I'm in trouble.’

He never thought much of you while you were with Roman, if maybe a little bit sorry for you. The extent of your relationship was occasional networking with Bruce at events, and Batman peeking through your windows at night to check on you when Roman was at his worst or imprisoned.

It helps that he thought you were pretty.

But now, as he's getting to know you on a personal level, seeing that you're stronger than he'd thought, and smarter. You're letting down walls and actually relaxing, and in his domain at that! It stirs something within him.

And for you, like Roman and Bruce are the same age, from similar backgrounds, similar personas for the public (charming and rich) but it's crazy to see how different they really are.

When you talk, Bruce isn't just waiting for his turn to speak, he listens.

There's no coercion when you set a boundary, he just respects it. Which funnily enough makes you more willing to share. He's just so easy to trust.

When you ask about interesting pieces around his house, he doesn't brag about where it's from and what it costs. Instead, he tells you stories about his parents or his kids interacting with it.

He's funny, and respectful, not at all what you'd expected.

And did you mention handsome? Oh, he's very handsome. That dark hair and those blue eyes. The chiselled jaw and the dimples and he smells good too, you find that out after you bury your nose into his chest while he's carrying you to bed that first night. You're tipsy, and his house is a maze, he's just trying to help and not at all showing off his strength.

The same way he's just dressed so casually the following day when he comes to find you, this is what he always lounges around. He's totally not subtly flexing his glamour muscles as you open the door.

Now, Roman is by no means bad in bed. He's just, shall we say, selfish? He has a set way in life and sex that he expects you to live up to.

Bruce though? He's a giver. He can take, when appropriate, but right now, he knows what you need.

You need those big hands on your waist as he chases you into the bed with his mouth. You need them soothing your tired body, massaging all the stress out of your aching body. You need his thumb to rub circles into your inner thighs while he kisses, and sucks, and laps at your hot, wet sex. You need his long hard fingers pumping into that sweet little hole, again and again until you cum all over them.

And that is just the start.

But you know one other really important thing you need? Some goddamn aftercare.

He knows it straight away, shouldn’t have been surprised. But when your body immediately falls limp after he rolls off of you, when you look at him confused as he asks if you need anything he knows your life has been lacking kindness for so long that you barely even recognise when it's extended to you.

He's not good at the emotional stuff, at comforting words but he reasons that you probably don't need to hear it right now. Don't need to be reminded of your mistakes, of your past.

Instead, he pulls you into him, wrapping his warmth around you like a giant weighted blanket. Holding you until you accept his affection and melt into his arms.

Meanwhile, the False Facers can't breach Bruces security, can't get a good look into the Manor. Which means they don't know what you're doing there. But they know you're there, and that means Roman knows you're there.

And Romans not stupid, you sneaky, no good, selfish whore.

He gave you everything, and this is how you repay him? You nasty little bitch. And with Bruce Wayne of all people?

Don't get comfy, because the moment you step outside those gates, the second you let your walls down, he's going to rock your shit. You're going to pay for all the crap you've put him through, tenfold.

Taglist: @wandalfnation

[transmascaraa]

Omg. I’ve been gone for so long, I have some stories to catch up on. So anyway I saw that requests are open and I just thought why not make one, you know.

So I thought about Genshin characters s/o needing to go to a stationary clinic for like 3 weeks, and they could barely communicate during that time. There were visiting times, but only 3 times a week, 1 hour long. What the characters noticed tho, was their s/o looking worse mentally and physically every time they visited and especially when they were finally out of that clinic, but s/o refuses to talk about how their stay there was. (Basically how it went with me when I had to go to a clinic for 3 weeks. I’m feeling worse than before)

I thought of characters like Neuvillette, Tighanri, Sethos, but you can also just do anyone you want :))

-🪶 anon

multiple characters headcannons!

you just need some time.

characters: neuvillette, tighnari, sethos x gn!reader

author's note: once again sorry this took a while i really hope you're feeling better now☹️ have fun reading this😭

✧ Neuvillette

-he had noticed you feeling very down while you were there, but at first he didn't want to think much of it, he didn't want to overwhelm you with thinking.

-especially at such a time.

-he decided to ask you one day, like to see if everything is alright with you.

-but after you just shrugged him off, wether you were uninterested or uncomfortable, he couldn't tell. so he didn't ask anything else.

-after you got out, he thought it was a better time to ask you again.

-"just a question, and please, tell me truthfully, how was your stay at the clinic? i'm only looking out for you." he tried asking.

-but seeing by your reaction and reply, "nothing special.", he understood that you didn't want to talk about it.

-and that's totally fine.

-but he was definitely a lot more generous than he already was, after all, he cares for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✿ Tighnari

-he didn't bug you a lot, either.

-mostly because he knew how to treat such things, he was basically like a personal therapist/psychologist for you at home.

-so he didn't force you to tell him anything if you didn't want to.

-he has asked you a few times after a while there, if you were okay, but dismissed it after seeing the way you reacted.

-thankfully, you got out and he took that opportunity to firstly calm you down from everything that has happened.

-and you seemed to have rested a bit, thanks to him, that's when he questioned about how your stay was.

-but you didn't react any better this time, so he just let it go and took care of you, made sure that you were healthy and safe.

-he's doing his best.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

♡ Sethos

-one of the sweetest bfs ever trust me bro

-literally brought you whatever you wanted at the clinic, if you needed anything.

-but seeing your mood was going down time by time, he asked you what was wrong.

-you being you, you didn't tell him anything, feeling as if you would burden him.

-and he understood that, so he didn't question any further.

-but it wasn't until you finally got back home from the clinic and only looked worse than the last time that he saw you.

-"love... what's wrong? how was it there? was it that bad?.." and again, you refused to acknowledge him about how you felt and how it was there.

-so he didn't push you any further, just treated you 10× better than he already did.(and he's one of the best bfs literally)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i hope you liked it and that you feel better at least^^

because i personally like it!!

and i hope y'all do too lol

| @mariaace <3 |

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

This is random, but, could I request the bachelors (+sve guys) discovering the farmer's like, half vampire (dhampir) but hates having to feed on prey, but they biologically need to and are starving and need to snack on a person, but can't bring themselves to do it for whatever reason.

Or is that a bit too morbid for this blog?

Anyway, cheers op ✌️

I don't think this question is too morbid, dear anon, as I have previously posted on more grimmer topics such as *checking my masterlist* the reaction to children turning into pigeons, the reaction to Farmer's death and them as the walking dead in Crimson Baldlans- you get the point. So yeah, thanks for the ask, and enjoy ☺️💕

_________________________________________

SDV/SVE bachelors discover that Farmer is a dhampir and refuses to feed on blood:

Stardew Valley:

Alex:

Alex has been slipping Farmer his grandmother's baked goods for about a month now, just so they'll have something to eat! Skinny as a twig...

But once the athlete found out the truth... Now it's clear why his friend was refusing - they can only drink human blood. Isn't that right? He doesn't know the thing about vampires and stuff.

But Farmer will die without blood, and that's not allowed! Alex urges them to drink some of his blood so they don't faint from starvation.

And then he promises to work something out so that Farmer can eat normally and not feeling guilty.

Sebastian:

While Farmer was telling him about his origins, Sebastian stood still, fascinated by such news. His friend is half vampire, that's... pretty cool.

But quickly came out of his state of admiration when he heard from Farmer their refusal to feed on blood, not wanting to harm humans and animals. That's what the local emo was worried about.

It's good that Farmer is kind, but this refusal to eat could conversely drive them into a wild obsession with blood, where they'll attack every person they meet.

Sebby is willing to lend a helping hand while he looks for some alternative way of feeding. Yeah, that's right, Farmer. You need to drink. Don't argue.

Shane:

Huh, nice joke, he almost believes Farmer. ...It's a joke, right? Tell him it's just a dumb joke. Sigh, fuck...

What's Shane gonna do with Farmer now? A dhampir (or whatever it's called) refuses to drink blood and slowly dies.

He doesn't care what they think, they need to eat! He doesn't want to lose a friend.

Okay, look. Shane thinks Farmer should feed on him for now. Don't fucking look at him like that! They need food! Let's keep it that way for now, and then he'll find some alternative for Farmer.

Harvey:

Although the very information about Farmer's origins clearly shocked Harvey, he still doesn't feel anxious or afraid around them.

But denying your body food is a very bad idea. The doctor realises that Farmer has no desire to hurt anyone, but torturing themselves isn't an option either.

Hmm, how about a blood donation? If he donates blood in the bag, would that be a good alternative?

Or just let Farmer bite him in the neck right away? No, Harvey's not afraid of them and we trust them. Please, listen to him, Farmer. He's trying to help you. And everything's gonna be all right.

Sam:

Wow, Farmer really is half vampire?! That's awesome! Although... They look skinny and sickly, so maybe it's not so cool after all.

Man, you can't starve yourself! Isn't there any way to feed Farmer without hurting anyone?

Sammy scoured every forum on the internet to find useful information. There was nothing but descriptions in fictional universes (Damn...).

So the young guitarist held out his hand to them with one word, "Bite." Farmer is outraged, but Sam stands firm on his decision because he doesn't want his friend to starve to death.

Elliott:

So many novels and stories had been written about vampires, but Elliott had always thought it was fiction... Farmer disproved it by their mere existence.

Though the writer was burrowing with the urge to shower Farmer with questions about the life of a half-blood vampire and everything, their weakness was unsettling.

Abandoning blood drinking in the name of not wanting to harm living creatures? Noble, but no creature would last long without food, Elliott though, even non-humans.

So Elliott unbuttons his shirt collar in one fell swoop and dramatically cries out "Bite me!". Um, well, a little dramatic.

Stardew Valley Expanded:

Victor:

Victor nearly collapsed to the floor from the information he was being bombarded with. So Farmer's.... not human?

The spaghetti lover is certainly glad his friend isn't going to eat him, but... Starving themselves won't do any good either!

Farmer's looking pretty thin and pale back then, and they're clearly getting worse by the day due to their refusal to hunt and drink blood.

Victor will immediately begin a search for an alternative feeder for vampires and dhampires and while they search for an answer - Farmer can taste his blood. He's a little scared, but he won't leave his friend in the in trouble.

Magnus Rasmodius:

Magnus is surprised. No, not that vampires and dhampir existed, but that Farmer had managed to hide their origins from the wizard's keen eye. Usually he can see right through those who aren't human...

Well, since they have such a problem with blood, he will quickly organise food for them. There are people who volunteer to donate blood and-

No, don't even dare protest, Farmer! They realise that by refusing to eat naturally they are putting others in even greater danger! Do they know what vampires and dhampires are capable of when they're insane with hunger?!

That's right. Now, Magnus will continue to contact his colleagues to provide Farmer with help. No buts.

Lance:

Vampires are creatures not new to mages and adventurers, and exist quite peacefully with each other. That's why Lance wasn't surprised after Farmer revealed the truth to him.

But the adventurer's face was clearly concerned about Farmer's condition, for starving was a very bad idea, even if their motive was noble.

Until he finds someone among his colleagues who is a blood donor for peaceful vampires (yes, such a thing exists in Castle Village), the pink-haired man will make a cut on his hand with a dagger and give food to Farmer.

"Please don't argue, my friend. Because hunger will drive you mad.."

[lucysarah-c]

I would like you very much to talk about the girlfriend effect on Levi's fashion

The man has zero sense on it it's actually hurt

The way I squealed when I read this ask. I was like that TikTok sound of “OH MY GOODNESSI LOVE THIS QUESTION! I THINK..!”

*Deep sigh* Anon, you're absolutely right; it's time we face the truth about Levi's sense of style – it's hideous. Have you witnessed those panels of him in the Uprising arc with a T-shirt on top of a long-sleeve shirt? I mean, seriously, it's like, "You're lucky I adore you, Levi…"

Now, let's establish some basics. We can't delve into the "girlfriend effect" without first acknowledging Levi's life as a man. I hate to break it to many of us, but Levi is, indeed, a man – raised by Kenny, no less. Levi values cleanliness and practicality. To sum up Levi's approach to broad topics: cheap, pragmatic, and straightforward. The only exceptions to this rule are tea and cleaning. Levi grew up in poverty, so he won't waste a single penny on face cream, even if you harass him. As an example, there's a "game" that was only available, I believe, in Japan, that had side stories, and Levi literally told Erwin he wasted too much money on "pointless" stuff like hair pomade…

Levi doesn't buy much furniture, treats for his body, clothes – anything, really. I'd even venture to say he might get some of his clothes from donations. He saves his money for tea… and tea sets.

And here's where the girlfriend comes into the picture. It starts subtly; she spends a night in his personal chambers and suggests bringing in new pillows, curtains, furniture, scented candles, and bathroom appliances for her stuff. Then the full transformation happens.

Levi, pale as ever, refuses to wear sunscreen like any man would. “I'm trying to look after you!" she would insist while running her hand through his face; he's not pleased. He hates the sticky feeling, but it's just the beginning. He pretends to dislike it, but he falls asleep so easily when his face is on her legs, and she's giving him a face massage with a full face glam, mask, and gua sha.

"You have to use it like this, against the hair movement, to create volume so your hair doesn't stick to your scalp," she says, applying molding wax to his hair to give it more volume. Skincare routine? Check. Lip balms? Check. Hairstyles? Check. Personal chambers now looking comfy and homey? Double-check.

And finally, the clothes. He's against it at first, always in uniform, so why bother? But she explains how proportions and colors can make him look taller, and he's tempted to tell her he doesn't care. However, her puppy eyes beg him to wear what she chose.

The result? Levi, who once dressed like a pre-teen from the 2000s, transforms into a model. The LOOKS? He goes out with the vets for a few beers on a day off, and MPs are turning around; even Erwin is surprised. He's supposed to be the high maintenance of the group, not Levi! This transformation becomes the main giveaway that Levi is dating. Glowing skin, glass-like complexion, perfectly cut and smooth hair with ideal volume.

The cherry on top? Suddenly, he's taking days off, going out more, and knows a lot about which restaurants are "not that bad," all while dressing like a Vogue cover.

The only disadvantage? Now he has his pockets full of lip glosses, napkins, hand cream, etc. Women's clothes don't have pockets. How is he supposed to explain to the MPs when they ask for a pen, and he pulls out a pink, glittery lip gloss from his pocket? Not everything is an upside.

I ADORED this question! I hope the answer is somehow what you had in mind! Thank you so so much for sending this.

I hope you and your loved ones are doing great today and stay safe!

Lots of love!

Tags!: @nmlkys @jimoonbeau @fictiondrunk @notgoodforlife @nube55 @justkon @i-literally-cant-with-this @darkstarlight82 @thoreeo @quillinhand @humanitys-strongest-bamf Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Road trip; Winchester brothers x sister reader

*Author's note*

This was a request submitted to me anonymously so to the anon out there I hope this story finds you and that you like it. Took me a while but I finally came up with a cute little fic. However it maybe less of a raodtrip roadtrip fic and more of reader bonding with her brothers over a road trip but I hope you and all the readers out there like it nonetheless.

Taglist:

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@remussl0vers

____________________________________________________

I was currently reading up on some books that the Men of Letters had in their library about Celtic mythology.  After that last selkie case, I wanted to read up more on Celtic lore and see what else there is out there since the personal Winchester knowledge is severely lacking in that department.

“Yo (Y/n)! Meeting room now.” I heard Dean’s voice call out as I heard a knock at the table I was sitting at.  I jumped in my seat and I said.

“Jesus Christ Dean, you know how I feel when you sneak up out of nowhere and just yell at me. Especially when I’m reading.”

“I swear you and Sammy with your books.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Wouldn’t kill you to learn something new.” I muttered under my breath as I closed the book.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing. C’mon let’s get going.” I walked out of the library with Dean following behind me and as we came to the meeting room, Sam sat at the globe table his laptop closed.  I took a seat next to him and whispered, “Any idea what he’s planning?”

“I have no idea.” He whispered back.

“What I have planned is no need for concern nor whispering now shut up you two and listen up.” Dean said as he took the seat across from us.  “Now look, we’ve been at this hunting thing for a long, long time. We’ve been everywhere across the country more times than most people take their entire lives. But when was the last time we gave ourselves a little vacation?” Sam and I looked at each other perplexed.

 “A vacation?” asked Sam.

“Yeah. A vacation Sammy. You know the thing that people do when they want to get away from it all—”

“I know what a vacation is Dean. But you know what we do isn’t a normal 9 to 5 job, right?”

“Yeah. But look at what Jody and the girls have been doing. They make time for themselves every now and then. Especially after finding Kai’s evil twin.”

“Question though Dean,” I asked slowly raising my hand. “Why bring this up now?”

“Haven’t you guys noticed that ever since we beat God at his own game, there hadn’t been as many cases to go to lately. Besides that selkie case, the last real case we fought in was like what….two, three weeks ago?” Sam and I shrugged in agreement. “So really, what’s the harm in the three of us getting out of this dusty old bunker and seeing the sights for real this time.” A bark soon came up and our newest family member Miracle came running up and Dean knelt down and gave Miracle some scritches.  “See? Even Miracle agrees with me.”

“You know it still seems weird to see you so affectionate with dogs. All these years and you finally allow us to have a dog.” I stated.

“I never hated dogs. We just couldn’t afford to keep one since you know we were always saving the world one apocalypse at a time. Now, this big guy can stay with us, ain’t that right boy?” Miracle let out a bark.

“He is right. I mean it’s been two days since the selkie incident and usually we’re out the door with another case or a new lead on our big bad of the year. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to get out for a while.” Sam said.

“(N/n), even if you say no you’re still coming with us cause we’re the oldest here.” Dean tried to out argue me but I told him.

“Did I say that it was a dumb idea? All I said was this was out of character for someone like you. But I wouldn’t mind getting out of here and seeing the open road without a constant threat breathing down our necks.”

“Then we’re agreed. Pack only the essentials and meet me outside in 10 minutes.” Dean and Miracle soon headed up the stairs and once the door to the bunker shut I said to Sam.

“He definitely has a destination planned out.”

“Oh yeah. But let’s just pretend we don’t for his sake.” Sam suggested as he gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder before heading to his room while I headed to mine.

We put out stuff in the trunk and I got in the back with Lucky at my feet while my brothers took their usual spots up front.  Once the doors closed Sam had asked Dean.

“Dean, since we’re going off the books for this particular trip. Do you think that maybe just this once you could lend the music control to someone else?” Dean gave Sam his raised brow and ‘bitch please’ face.

“What’s the number one rule in the car (Y/n)?”

“Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole and piggyback rocks out.” I said petting Miracle’s fur.

“And this is why one day she’ll be taking your seat cause she doesn’t complain about my music choices.” Dean started Baby up and her engine let out that beautiful purr before Dean drove her out from the garage and we set out on the open road.

I’ve been raised out on the open road.  Being a hunter meant never really settling down in one place for too long.  I could name every interstate and exit ramp by the time I was 10 years old.  But here and now, this was different.  Seeing the trees whiz by, the clouds that spread across the Blue sky, the sun shining off Baby’s hood and rearview mirrors, this trip felt—comforting.

Soon coming through the radio was Kansas infamous song ‘Carry on my Wayward son’.  When the acapella voices of the band came through the speakers of the car, Sam couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“C’mon Sammy! You never go wrong with Kansas. This is practically our theme song.”

“Our theme song?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Now suck it up and take it all in.” as Dean and I began jamming out to the song, him playing the drums on the steering wheel while I did my air guitar before the two of us began singing.  Our voices drowned out by the volume of the song but it didn’t deter the passion that Dean and I had as we would belt out the song.  Eventually Sam got in on the action as he’d play the piano part on Baby’s console.  When the guitar solo came up, Dean proclaimed.  “Take it (n/n)!” I then proceeded to copy the famous guitar solo as my brothers cheered out to me and the three of us closed out the song in a high note.

“What’s say about making a youtube cover of that song?” I suggested.

“Might not be a bad idea. Never too old to learn to play the guitar.” Dean said.

“I don’t think I’m cut out to be a youtube star.” Sam said.

“Sam, do I need to remind you of the time we went to that world where our lives was a tv show and all the fanfics my actress had both read and written for being a tumblr star as well as an actress?”

“No need to bring that up thank you (Y/n).” Sam stopped me as he held his hand out.

“You guys getting hungry?”

“Baby sis you always read my mind. There’s also a rest stop around the bend from the food exits. We can have ourselves a little picnic there and give Miracle some exercise, what’d you say boy?” Miracle let out a bark of agreement.  About a quarter mile later, Dean took the exit and we pulled into the first fast food joint we saw and ordered our meals before driving towards the rest stop about a half mile down from the restaurant.

Dean parked the car and once the engine stopped, we all came outside and stretched ourselves out after a few hours of driving.  I leashed Miracle up as we walked towards the picnic tables up ahead and sat down to eat our food.

“But in all seriousness Dean, where exactly are we going? And will we be getting a motel room to at least sleep in tonight?” I asked.

“My dead little sister, sometimes you just gotta take in the journey and not worry about the destination.” Dean responded as he bit into his double burger.  I dipped my fries into my chocolate milkshake and Sam said.

“I still can’t understand why you do that. Everytime you get a milkshake or a frosty you dip your fries into it.”

“The perfect balance of sweet and salty, as well as hot and cold Sammy boy. Don’t knock it till you try it.” I said dipping three fries into my shake and stuffing them into my mouth.  Miracle laid his head across my lap as he looked up at me with those puppy dog eyes of his.  “Oh no mister. Chocolate will kill you, but I can give you this.” I tore a portion of my chicken sandwich and fed it to him after telling him to wait and be a good boy.

“(Y/n), don’t feed him human food.” Sam reprimanded me.

“Apparently you don’t know what Dean does in the mornings after finishing his breakfast.”

“(N/n) we had a deal don’t you tell him.” Sam let out a disgusted groan.

“Seriously Dean? You let him lick your plate before putting it into the sink?”

“It gets washed in the end.” Dean tried to reason while I stood up and gathered up my trash all the while picking up Miracle’s leash to take him for a little walk around the back so that he could do his business.

“I swear I love stirring the pot to get those two arguing over the dumbest things. Guess Gabriel rubbed off on me in more ways than one.” I said to Miracle as I tossed my trash into the trashcan before we entered the trail behind the rest stop.  Miracle started off by peeing at the first thing he had sniffed which was a sing pole for the ‘please clean up after your dogs’.

I walked him through the forest trail and he practically peed at almost every tree and bush we came across.  As we walked my mind trailed back to all the people that we had lost, especially Cas, Jack and Gabriel.  Hell Gabriel was my Guardian angel, who would’ve known at the time but it did make sense.  Whenever he made an attempt to mess with my brothers, he always made sure to never have me be harmed or be involved in any insane scheme he came up with.

The day he was killed in the apocalypse world when we tried to get Jack and Mary back was the day I was most devastated.  Right until the end, he made sure that I didn’t get hurt and ultimately sacrificed himself to Michael so that I and my brothers could escape and get out alive.  I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even realize that I had bumped into someone causing the two of us to fall to the ground.

Miracle had came up to us huffing and whimpering his tail wagging and I immediately got off the stranger and said.

“I am so sorry I should’ve paid attention to where I was going I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no it’s completely my fault. What I get for just standing in the middle of the trail.” He responded.  When I got a good look at him, I almost felt my heart go boom.

He was pretty cute.  Dark almost black curly hair that framed his face in both an adorable yet mysterious way.  He had hazel eyes that held both wonder yet mischief behind them.  His clothing wasn’t anything too extravagant, a Bob Dylan t-shirt and dark pants and he wore a few rings on his fingers and a metal bracelet as well as a watch.  And a jawline so sharp and strong it was unfair that someone around my age could look this handsome.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna exchange licenses or proof of insurance?” I finally spoke up trying to keep the blush I was feeling rising at my cheeks at bay.

“No, no, the fault was entirely my own.” He said with a charming smile.  Oh Christ even his smile was to die for.  Miracle then went up and gave him a sniff as he let out some happy whimpers.

“Miracle no down!”

“It’s fine I’ve got a dog at home just like this one and she’s an affectionate little girl. Although she’s not so little anymore even though she thinks she is.” He said laughing as he gave Miracle some scritches on top of his head.

You know how dogs can be trained to detect cancer or find weapons or drugs at airports.  Well my brothers and I have been training Miracle to detect whether someone was human or not and he always let us know by either growling (Werewolf, vampire, demon, wendigo, shapeshifter), lay down (djinn, vetala, reapers, witches), or to stand completely still but firm for ghosts, ghouls and everything else.

And with how he was acting, I knew I could relax since Miracle would never react this way towards a normal human being so I knew this boy could be trusted.

“What’s her name?”

“Dixie. Found her dumped at the side of the road when she was just a puppy.”

“I swear, humans can be such monsters.”

“Tell me about it. But with time, food and water, she was acting like a normal puppy should and has been for the past 10 years now. How long have you had Miracle, you said his name was?”

“Yeah, we’ve only had him for a year now but we didn’t get him as a puppy. Was left behind at a gas station.”

“Aww poor guy, well lucky for him he found a good family to take care of him.” We stared into each other’s eyes for a moment and it felt like my entire world was flipped upside down.  I awkwardly cleared my throat and said.

“Well we uhh—we better get back. My brothers will start to think we’ve been kidnapped or something.”

“Yeah, yeah I better get back on the road myself. Got a long way to Georgia.” He said in the same manner of awkwardness as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and we both stood up.

“Georgia? Funny you don’t seem to have the accent. No offense.”

“None taken, I’m just heading down that way to help out my aunt. She got injured pretty badly and I said I’d help her at her shop.”

“Such a gentleman, don’t see many of you out in the world.”

“Oh we’re out there. Just gotta know where to look. But I think it’s ungentlemanly to not introduce myself, I’m Paul.”

“(Y/n).” the second we took hands, I felt a spark of electricity surge through me and I let out a tiny gasp.  There’s no way I could be falling for this guy so fast could I? No, no, no it’s just a crush. Just like with Jack, it’s not real.  But then again I knew the term soulmates were real thanks to that one cupid who talked about the destiny of John and Mary Winchester being together.

Snap out of it (Y/n)! when I realized we were still shaking hands, I nervously took back my hand and apologized but he told me no worries and the two of us decided to walk out of the forest trail and we continued to talk to one another.

“So you went to college in New York to study law?”

“Yeah, One more semester and I’ll finally be done after seven years.” Paul told me.

“My big brother Sam tried to study at law school in California but unfortunately it didn’t work out for him.”

“Oh that’s too bad. Was it the stress cause there have been times where I’ve wanted to quit because of the immense pressure. That’s why I didn’t even try for Standford since they’re so strict.”

“I think it’s that school rivalry talking.”

“Or that.” We both laughed softly.

“So what’s the city of New York actually like?”

“Hold on, I thought you had said you’ve been to everywhere across America.”

“I have. But the only part of New York I ever went to was in upstate. I’ve never been to the actual city. Is it true you can pretty much get anywhere by walking?”

“Most part. But I take the train since my campus is in the heart of the city and I’m taking lodgings in Queens. You know if you’re ever in the area I wouldn’t mind showing you around the city sometime. I can show you all the hot spots and where to get the best pizza.”

“I’ve heard Chicago’s is better.”

“Okay that is a straight up lie! They deep dish their pizza in grease and I will proudly stand by that!” he proclaimed.  I giggled softly when I heard Dean’s voice cry out.

“Yo (Y/n)! Time to hit the road let’s go double time!” I groaned and Paul said.

“That big brother or eldest brother?”

“Eldest brother. I gotta go, it was real nice to meet you Paul. And again sorry about running into you.”

“Like I said, I was the one just parked in the middle of the trail. Take care of yourself (Y/n), you too Miracle.” Miracle let out a bark as he allowed Paul to rub the top of his head and I urged him back towards Baby.  As we came up to the impala, Dean asked.

“Who’s the boy?”

“Just get in the car.” I got Miracle into the backseat before following in after him and shut the door.

“He got a name?” asked Sam.

“Don’t you start too, I don’t need the big brother protection program on my ass.”

“Oh don’t you worry baby sis. Cause we’ll get you to talk one way or another about him.” Dean said as he got into the car before revving Baby up.

We continued the drive long throughout the night and by morning we finally reached Georgia by mid-afternoon. As we drove through the county Dean soon took the exit towards Blairsville, each time he took the exit that had that name.

“No destination huh Dean?” I mocked as I now sat in the front with him while Sam took the back to rest.

“Can’t hurt to make a couple of stops along the way.”

“Yeah well can we at least check into a motel? I feel so sticky and gross.”

“That’s good. That way no boy tries to flirt with you like the boy we met at that rest stop in Missouri.”

“Oh my god Dean not this again.”

“No, no, no. You gotta know this baby girl. Boys at that age are after one thing and one thing only. Besides in our line or work, he could’ve been a monster for all we know.”

“He wasn’t because Miracle acted the same way he does around you in the mornings. He didn’t give any of his training cues when he smelled Paul.”

“Paul? Who names their kid Paul?”

“Dean knock it off. Our sister knows how to take care of herself she could well beat Paul’s ass if he tried anything to her.” Sam groaned as he finally woke up from his nap.

“I can’t tell if you’re on my side or not there Sammy.” I bluntly said.

“Be thankful I know what you’re capable of doing on your own. You’ve been a karate master since you were 14.”

“I wouldn’t say master but I know a thing or two.”

“Still, I don’t want you talking or flirting with any boys while we’re here. You’re our sister and you’re too young for that shit.”

“I’m 18 years old Dean. I’m an adult and can make my own decisions.”

“Not when it comes to boys you’re not.” I let out a groan as I turned away from him and crossed my arms over my chest.

“You really are a stubborn ass.”

“Better to be a stubborn ass than a neglectful asshole.”

“What Dean’s trying to say is we’re this protective over you because we love you and we don’t wanna see you get hurt. Any more than you have in the past, especially now since we’ve finally managed to get our lives to normal since defeating God.” Sam piped in as I felt his hand on top of my shoulder giving it a loving shake.  I looked behind him and placed my hand on top of his.

“I know, but you guys also need to understand I’m not the same frightened little girl you found curled over her dead mother’s corpse covered in blood. You guys taught me everything I need to know in defending myself, so did Gabriel and Cas. Bobby and Jodi. So can I just try to live out whatever normal young adult life I can on my own and if I ever need you guys to bail me out or a shoulder to cry on, I’ll call you?”

“I can live by that.” I turned to Dean and said his name.  He let out a sharp breath.

“Just when I think I can out argue yah, you always tend to play the heartstrings card. And even though I hate chick flick moments, I guess I can agree to those terms. Just as long as you let me have a go at whoever pressures you into sex or drugs cause that’s where I draw the line of not getting involved.”

“Then it’s a deal.” Dean continued his drive through Blairsville and we soon saw the reason why he had wanted to come here.  All over the county there were banners, flyers and signs for the upcoming Great American Pie Festival.  Pies, parades, fireworks, food trucks, games and prizes were all promised and it all began tonight.

“Why doesn’t this surprise me?” asked Sam.

“C’mon Sammy, after all that we’ve done for the world I deserve me some damn pie! Now like (Y/n) said we’ll check into a motel, get cleaned up and then get us some pie.” He sniffled and I asked him teasingly.

“Are you crying Dean?”

“What? No I’m not crying, you’re crying.” He brushed off my statement as he kept driving down the road until we reached the closest motel.

“Dibs on the first shower!” I called out as Dean turned off Baby once we reached the parking lot and we all came out of the car.  Sam took Miracle for a walk while Dean and I got ourselves checked into a room.  Once we got into the room, I grabbed a spare set of clothes and my bath essentials and headed towards the bathroom to take a nice, hot relaxing shower.

A few hours passed and after getting ourselves comfortable and situated in our hotel room it was now time to head out to the main street where they would kick off the festival with the firework show and then by noon tomorrow they would have their big parade.

My brothers and I followed the crowd of people as we could hear everyone’s excitement for this year’s Pie festival.

“This is my destiny. I was born for this, I was made for this.” Dean muttered to himself.

“Dude are you seriously giving yourself a pep talk right now?” asked Sam incredulously.

“Shut up Sammy I need to get into my Zen pie mode.” Sam and I looked at each other and shook our heads.  The second we got to the main pie gallery where all the pie shops were set up, we stopped and Sam and I could see on Dean’s face that he had just seen the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  “It’s….just so beautiful.”

“Just don’t OD yourself tough guy.” I said patting his gut softly.  Dean shoved me playfully and was the first to walk through the streets of pie.  “Shall we Sammy?”

“After you.” He told me and we both walked into the gallery square and took in all the sights the festival had to offer.  Balloons and banners all over the square, multiple shops and food trucks on every corner, hundreds of people all walking around already with their pie purchases and soon we found a bench to sit on.

Sam and I sat down and waited for Dean to find us with his treasure hoard.  As I looked around I said to Sam.

“Could you imagine us being in something like this during our many apocalyptic savings?”

“If it were up to Dean, we’d come to it in a heartbeat but at the time. We had bigger fish to fry. Now I think we might just end up going to every pie fest across the country.”

“I don’t think it’d be so bad. I mean we did have a good drive here. Not too much traffic, decent weather. Even Miracle seemed okay with the trip.”

“Yeah he did. And probably best that we left him at the motel, we still need to work on his approach towards people.”

“Tell me about it. Plus all this food, he’d be all over everybody.” After a few minutes of watching the crowd, Dean finally came in with a large box but he had to quickly spin around to avoid someone nearly knocking it over.  He gave the man his best death glare as he came over and sat on the opposite of Sam.  We looked down and that box held at least eight pies all ranging in various flavors.

“Didn’t I tell you not to OD? At this point all them pies will put you into a pie coma.” I said to Dean.

“You know you worry too much (n/n). Plus I can’t have a little sister whose thinks pie is a dried up heave of dough. That is sacrilege!”

“I never said that. I just said I can’t eat pie by itself. Now pie with ice cream sign me up any day of the week.”

“I’ll tell you where the ice cream truck is at if you take at least one bite of this pie, by itself.” Dean then handed me what looked like a pumpkin pie smothered in whipped cream.  He tossed me a fork and I picked it up before standing up.  I walked over to Dean and just as I was about to plunge the fork into the pie, I then shoved the pie into his face which caused Sam to bite back a laugh.

“I can’t tell you how much I’ve always wanted to do that to someone. And it’s just as funny as it is in cartoons.” Sam and I both soon started laughing as he high fived me.

“Funny.” Dean said as the pie finally fell from his face.  “Real funny there kid.”

“Hey Dean, you got a little something there on your face.” Teased Sam as Dean gave him his bitch face before Sam started bursting out laughing and I walked off shaking my head snickering under my breath.

I walked along through the crowd and soon found the ice cream food truck and as luck would have it, it lied right beside a chocolate pie shop.  Vanilla ice cream and chocolate pie, oh hell yes.  I jogged over to the food truck and ordered a small vanilla cup and paid the guy what I owed before jogging over to Aunt Mina’s Pies.  I dinged the little bell and was soon greeted by a familiar voice.

“Welcome to Aunt Mina’s how may I—(Y/n)?”

“Paul? We’ll all be damned.”

“Small world ain’t it? You and your brothers here for the pie festival?”

“Yep. Believe me, you mention the word pie and my eldest brother goes crazy over them.”

“He wouldn’t have been the one carrying the box with eight pies including one of my aunt’s apple pies, would he?”

“That’s the guy.”

“So what can I get you?”

“One of your best chocolate chip pies please.”

“Coming right up.” he gave me a wink before leaving the window and called out the order as he began prepping the pan.

“So your aunt’s a pie maker?”

“Not to toot my own horn, but my aunt makes one of the best pies down here in the south. Even her shop over at New Orleans say that she’s the best damn pie maker they’ve ever had. But since her car accident she’s been needing help run the various shops. My older sister is running the main one in New Orleans while I’m helping out with the festival. Then of course my cousins co-own the shop up in Philly.”

“Wow, proud family business. What my brother wouldn’t give to have his own pie shop. Though if it were up to him he’d eat all the merchandise rather than sell it.”

“It’s tempting. I remember the first summer I helped my aunt out in this very festival. I was so hungry by the end of it all, I had eaten about five of her coconut cream pies. It was well worth the beating I took later that night.” We both laughed before my pie was finally ready.

“How much do I owe yah?”

“Nothing, it’s on the house.”

“Paul no I-I can’t…..”

“Consider it a first time festival welcome freebie.”

“You sure you won’t get in trouble?” I whispered as I took the pie from him.

“Who knows. But if you’d really like to pay me back, would you mind joining me in watching the fireworks later tonight?” once again I felt my cheeks grow hot and I said.

“Will you provide another slice of pie for me?”

“I’ll sneak one out if I have to.” He gave me another wink as he smiled mischievously.

“Then I’d be honored Paul.”

“Great. How about meeting me back here in 20 minutes? I get off around that time.”

“It’s a date.” We both were shocked at my wording and I quickly tried to fix it but that’s when I heard Dean’s voice say.

“What’s a date?” we both looked and there stood both Sam and Dean looking at us skeptical.

“Dean, Sam. This is Paul, he’s offered to allow me to be his escort to the fireworks show later tonight.”

“Did he now?” asked Dean as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yes sir. Just as a friendly welcome to the festival. She told me that it’s your first time here at our little pie festival. Lots to do over just a weekend and it can get overwhelming.” Paul said to my brothers.

“I’m sure it does.” Said Sam with a curt nod.  I looked at them widened eyed and annoyed desperately trying to get them to remember our conversation in the car.

“I promise I’ll be the perfect gentleman and you two are more than welcome to join us.” Oh god please no Paul why did you have to suggest that.

“That sounds like…..” Dean first started off but Sam interrupted him.

“Actually we’re good. Fireworks really aren’t our thing but you kids go and have fun.” Dean turned to Sam but Sam arched a brow at Dean and gestured with his head.  Dean glared at Sam and he said to me.

“Be home no later than 10.”

“Midnight.” I suggested.

“11.” Dean negotiated.

“11:30.”

“Fine 11:30 and not a minute later young lady. And you, Timothee Chalamet don’t you dare try any funny business. Cause I’ll know.”

“Yeah okay Dean, let’s go before you get us kicked out.” Sam escorted Dean away.

“Wow. Your brothers are pretty protective over you aren’t they?” exhaled Paul.

“You don’t know the half of it. I apologize for them, I’ll understand if you don’t want to watch the fireworks with me anymore.”

“No, no I still want you to join me. I can understand protective siblings, you should see my sister. You know how mama bears are super protective over their cubs, well they ain’t got nothing when it comes to my sister. God did she ever used to embarrass me when I was a teenager.”

“It’s tough being the youngest sibling.”

“I’d toast to that. So like I said, meet me here in 15 minutes?” he said looking down at his watch.

“Yeah, see you then Paul.” I took my pie and ice cream and walked away still feeling that blush at my cheeks.  When I went back to the bench I had seen that both my brothers were gone.  I looked around but couldn’t spot them anywhere when I felt a vibration in my pocket.  I set my food down and took out my phone to see a text from Sam.  I unlocked my phone and read the message.

Sammy-boy: Headed back to the motel, had to check up on Miracle before the fireworks started. You know how he gets. Have fun and be safe, see you at 11:30 on the dot.

“Thanks Sam.” I sat down at the table and poured my ice cream cup next to my pie and proceeded to eat my dessert.

[ooctlt]

I think the etiquette of ask blogs is a forgotten art. what I'm saying is (imo) it's not that people don't want to play, it is they don't know HOW, and more importantly they don't understand that the game exists to begin with. obviously you do not have to teach people the rules because your time and energy is finite but idk. it feels like from some of your OOC responses that you assume people know the rules and are playing badly, but I genuinely think people (me) just don't know what you are wanting them (us) to do. and also they (i) don't know how to tell if they (i) are playing the game correctly.

An example I am genuinely confused about is, is inciting a "shut up" answer a signal that the game is being played correctly, because we are inciting a reaction from the character? or is a "shut up" answer a signal that we are playing wrong and need to do something different? I'm sorry. I really love your art and seeing the story unfold but I'm confused and I want to play and I don't understand how.

yeah ive had a couple people tell me this has been the first active askblog in a while and the concept of askblog etiquette has been forgotten- @thatneoncrisis and i made a diagram:

link to full-res image

a "shut up" reaction will hopefully show whether or not it's a closed path of exploration: if you have gideon sweating, going "pshhh its nothinggg" it means there is something worth exploring. if you have harrow slamming the door in your face, that is an advance that wont work on her

transcript under the readmore:

DEAD END QUESTION ANON: CAMILLA DO YOU THINK HARROW'S HOT?

"Please stop talking to me."

This question is BAD because it's BLUNT, INCREDIBLY PERSONAL and founded on INCOMPLETE KNOWLEDGE of their relationship.

NOTE that its not that shitty questions will NEVER be answered, its that 1) they have a LOWER chance of being answered and 2) they have a HIGHER chance of being made fun of in character

gideon: haha who thinks harrow is HOT

DECENT INCONSEQUENTIAL QUESTION ANON: CAMILLA DO YOU LIKE TO DO ANYTHING FUN WITH HARROW?

"Sure. We run a lot of errands together."

This kind of question may not advance the plot, as it is INCREDIBLY BROAD yet NONINVASIVE. They're good for quick 1-3 panel answers. May generally be met with a less EXCITING answer.

It might also be DIFFICULT TO ANSWER because a broad question could include MULTIPLE ANSWERS - asking "do you guys go out" could not be answered SUSTAINABLY, because i cannot draw all the places they visit

ANON: EVERYONE, WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CLOUD / WATER / MOLECULAR STRUCTURE / BONE / CAR / COFFEE BRAND/ BOOK CHARACTER?

me: "i have to do so much research"

NEAT QUESTION CAMILLA HAS HARROW EVER ASKED YOU TO DO SOMETHING WITH HER SHE WAS EXCITED ABOUT?

"Yes, actually. She once invited me to [REDACTED], I didn't know she liked that sort of thing."

This question is SICK AS FUCK because not only do you learn something SUBSTANTIAL about the characters, you have stumbled upon A NEW PLOT BRANCH, one that actively deepens character connections and their past within the world. It specifically remarks upon a MEMORY* rather than AN OPINION and will typically be LONGER.

Another good option is to PROMPT something following this:

ANON: CAMILLA, MAYBE YOU SHOULD TRY TAKING HARROW OUT TO DO [REDACTED] THAT SHE LIKES BEFORE XYZ?

and this can then spiral onward…

*DM, ONE TIME I ASKED ABOUT A MEMORY AND I GOT A RUDE ANSWER; WHAT DID I DO WRONG?

It's not that this topic can never be spoken about, it's about WHEN you asked it and HOW you said it, or even WHO you asked.

Some topics, like the nature of HARROW AND GIDEON'S UPBRINGING are too recent for them to talk about, it has only been TWO YEARS since they left and there are SPECIFICS about the situation that the AUDIENCE hasn't discovered yet. There are things like GIDEON'S PARENTS that she CANNOT answer because she DOESN'T KNOW and answering multiple asks with I DON'T KNOW becomes repetitive and dull for both the DM and PLAYER.

BUT! She can learn! Over time, when the time is appropriate and feels the most natural for STORY PROGESSION. Think of it like a BAD ENDING in a visual novel. You START OVER and ask a DIFFERENT QUESTION, or approach it from a DIFFERENT ANGLE. If Gideon reacts poorly to someone congratulating her leaving BAD CIRCUMSTANCES, consider talking to her about the FUTURE. Instead of trying to pry at Camilla to see if she had an INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP with Pyrrha, try to ask about other things in that period of her life, like how they met or what caused her to move out.

FINALLY, if you'd like an ask to be answered out of character, your best bet would be to goto @notedchampagne and send it there. If you'd like an ask to be answered SINCERELY or you don't want SNARK, you can specify this in the ask, but know this blog may not be your thing.

[breannasfluff]

Do you ever feel the urge to just delete something you've written? Because you suddenly feel embarrassed about it? Or because no one would care anyway?

Oh boy anon, do I have a meme for you

I think everyone feels like this after posting. Even things that I think people will like, I still get nervous. Content out of my wheelhouse? New AUs? Oh yeah, I worry I’ll be the only one interested.

Things that help: friends! Writing friends, tumblr friends, discord, etc. I have some people I know I can rely on to cheer me on and even if something doesn’t do well, as long as one person likes it that’s what matters. Of course, the dream is that lots of people like it haha.

If you are missing this…see if you can build it? Comment on the works of authors you like. Chat in reblogs. Ask them questions about their writing process or tips. I did a bunch of that when I was learning and everyone had something different to share. I also met some really cool authors!

Usually, authors loooooove to talk about their work. I am no exception, haha. We put a lot of time, effort, and thought into stories and get very attached! It’s also why lack of response can be hard. Art is like that. We put ourselves out there and it’s daunting!

Improving writing skills is hard work, but does help. You can’t get better if you don’t write. A little while I ago I shared some lines from old things I wrote and they are SO cringy and bad. At the time I thought I was a literary genius.

If you worry about writing something original, try doing a fan work drabble of someone’s character if they are okay with it! Or, if this is LU, do a little scene with the boys. Make the reader care just as much as you do 💜

I hope it helps and good luck!!

[rodolfoparras]

hello again (gaz anon and also the needy soap, ill go by feral anon if thats all good)

I WANNA GROPE PRICE SO BAD, NOT EVEN IN A KINKY WAY. I WANNA FEEL HIS THICK AS BODY ON MY HANDS, I WANNA SQUEEZE AND PINCH AT HIM. I WANNA FEEL THIS MAN UP.

so yes maybe a drabble of a super handsy m!reader who can't keep his hands to himself accidently makes price horny during a meeting cause he wont stop squeezing and pinching at his thigh... it turns into a fun game of "can price cum without letting everyone know that his boy is jacking him off

Thinking about Price with a s/o who can’t help but touch him all the time and it’s not really pda, it’s a discreet hand on his thigh while he’s in a meeting, thumb mindlessly stroking it. It’s a squeeze to the shoulder before running head first into a battlefield. It’s a brief hug and a pat on the back when he’s made it to the helicopter safely.

Price has always liked it that way, the subtle ways you displayed your affection.

Anything else would be deemed unfitting for the professional environment the two of you are in and besides he’s long bypassed that age where he feels the need to hold his boyfriends hand or kiss him openly on the cheek to let the world know that he’s taken.

However, he finds himself willing to eat his words when the new recruit just doesn’t seem to want to leave you alone.

Starstruck, that’s what you called it.

You’ve had a long and successful career in the army. It’s only normal for younger recruits to want to come up you, ask for a picture or an autograph or even a story from the many lives you lived.

That doesn’t mean that it soothes the green monster living in him because he can’t help but uncomfortable fidget when some stranger rests their hand on your shoulder for a picture, can’t help but coldly stare at the way a stranger’s fingers linger on yours for longer than needed when you sign something for them, cant help but want to crush the expensive tobacco leaf he’s smoking when yet another person comes up to you two wanting to hear about your days from the army, unknowingly cutting off yours and his conversation.

Price wasn’t a big fan of pda but what harm could it do to lean a bit closer to you during a meeting, shoulders brushing, and knees knocking together.

Price had long surpassed that age of feeling the need to claim, but what harm would it do to let your pinky fingers brush, when your hand is already resting on the table.

And if he makes direct eye contact with the recruit as he holds hushed conversation with you then its only their fault for sitting directly across from him.

You’d been surprised by the sudden wave of affection but welcomed it with open arms, sending soft smiles his way when he leaned closer, briefly linking fingers under the table when no one was looking, indulged in hushed conversations until his cheeks flushed and pupils widened.

He hadn’t expect to love it this much, had done it at first because of the green monster residing inside. However he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed having to be careful not to get caught, feeling butterflies at every word or every touch, all while being fully aware that everyone at the table knew that the two of you must be something more than just coworkers (and if the recruit had ended up looking like a kicked puppy then it’s just a win win situation.)

Price was thrilled.

However what Price hadn’t expected was that he would end up with a hard on while in the middle of the meeting.

Maybe he was a bit too thrilled.

While everyone was rising from their seat Price was pretending to organize the small pile of paper work in front of him. You who’d been sitting next to the other man had noticed his strange behavior and sent him a questioning glance but he was unwilling to meet your eyes and while the crowd dispersing you decide to stay behind and wait for Price.

“Are you coming?” You say still confused by the man’s strange behavior.

Price clears his throat feels his neck and ear burning as he gives a pathetic response “Yeah you go ahead”

He continues staring down at the table,body ever so tense until he hears the door slams shut and a sigh of relief escapes him.

However he quickly tenses up again when he feels your hands on his shoulder and he hears you whisper the words “John, sweetheart, I’ll only ask once and I want you to be honest. Are you hard under the table?”

He swallows hard, adams apple bobbing as he white knuckles the table.

“Yes-yes” he manages to stutter out feeling his ears and necks burn at his words.

“Good boy” you praise and kiss his shoulder “Now would you like for me to help you out here or take it to your room?”

“Here please” he says, head swiftly turning to meet your gaze.

“What do you say?”

His pupils are blown wide cheeks flushed and mouth agape when he says the words “Please sir touch me”

“Of course sweetheart, you know I’ll give you anything you want”

Spitball w/ me?