#i finally squeezed out some dumb art

[cobaltfluff]

happy pride month to them!!

[kooqitas]

#pairing: brothers-friend!yoongi x reader.

#genre: smut MINORS DNI | #w.c: ~1500

#synopsis: your brother ended up forcing his friend to come to your house and give you tutoring… but the class wasn't exactly what he wants

#warnings: vaginal sex, unprotected sex, fingering, praise kink, humiliation, nipple play, overstimulation.

#notes: not proofread, english isn’t my first language! 

★ m.list | inbox :D ;; taglist

you wanted to kill jungkook when you heard that he had asked yoongi to help you with your art history class, you knew that he had finished his college course last year and you were just starting, of course min yoongi was the best person to help you.

but, he is min yoongi.

you hated min yoongi, the (now) history teacher was your brother's friend since the beginning of college, at that time you had just started high school, now, a few years later, yoongi was a teacher at a children's school while you did some extracurricular courses beyond college.

min yoongi was always insufferable, he always treated you like his 'best friend's little sister' in the worst sense of the word, and it didn't help one bit when he started getting absurdly… hot. you would never admit it out loud, but damn, min yoongi was fucking hot the last few years. now that you sometimes went out together (because of your brother) you always hoped that when yoongi took you home, since jungkook always ends up with some random girl, he would finally see you as a woman...

you rolled your eyes when you heard the door open, min yoongi had the password so he didn't even bother to knock.

“good night, princess! your brother is going to the party and left me with the punishment of helping you."

"you can leave if you want, min yoongi! i’m not keeping you here" you answered.

he rolled his own eyes, placing some books on the table and sitting on the couch to help you.

a few hours passed, and the truth is that it was unbearable to be next to yoongi, he was unbearably intelligent... and hot, fucking hot. the tension of being in the same environment as yoongi was driving you crazy, he was smug and it irritated you, especially when he asked arrogantly how you didn't know about something.

you knew yoongi was watching you, at the end of the day he was still a man and your thin shirt and shorts weren't the most decent outfit to wear at the moment, but it's not like you minded having his eyes on you.

but, to be honest, you like it… a lot…

at a certain point, yoongi stood behind your body, his chest touching your back, and that's when you realized that he wasn't just staring at you... yoongi was excited, whatever shit was going through his head.

“so dumb...” he chuckled in his ear, making you shiver a little from the warm air that hit you. "i think you need another way to understand things..."

"what are you-" you tried to question when yoongi slid the thin strap of your shirt down your shoulder, but before you could finish, his hand was on your nipple, his index finger gently passing there, which made you sigh. "what the fu-"

"your brother said i should teach you... but he didn't say what..." he chuckled, still pressing your nipple. "i'm gonna teach you how to cum on my cock."

your body shook, enough for him to notice and smile.

“yoongi stop it!” you scolded him, trying to pull the strap of your blouse up, but yoongi just stopped you, using his strength to continue squeezing the nipple of your breast that was already swollen in his hand while you moaned softly.

"stop? but you won't stop moaning, doll! i'm dying to touch that little body, you know? you've grown up and become so hot..."

yoongi lowered your shirt completely, exposing your two nipples, he took his fingers to the one that hadn't yet been touched, and added his thumb to the one he already had the touch of his index finger, squeezing and massaging there while laughing at every sly moan you made while tried to get away from him.

you wanted that like hell, just like him, but damn, jungkook would kill yoongi if he dreamed that he touched you like that, your brother hated your one-night stands because he knew someone was 'taking advantage' of his sister, now imagine him discovering that at that moment the person taking advantage of you was his best friend.

"stop trying to resist, i'll deal with your brother later..."

yoongi continued squeezing your nipples, while it was delicious it was torture, your panties got more and more wet and all you had was the simple touch of his fingerprints on you.

yoongi turned you around, and at that moment everything was lost, you had never seen his eyes so dark. but your exchange of glances didn't last long, seconds later he had his mouth on your nipple, wetting your entire pout with his saliva while you moved on his body.

"all of this because of a nipple suck? i think it's better if you don't cum just from that, it would be pathetic!" he laughs, leaving a bite that makes you grab his hair.

you couldn't respond, his touches being too much for you, and everything got worse when one of his hands went down to his shorts, taking advantage of the fact that they were thin just to pull them aside, along with his wet panties.

"of course a slut like you would be wet from just that, right?" he ran his finger all over your cunt, making every inch of you feel his fingers and shiver while he still sucked your nipple. "what would your brother think of that, hm? what would he say if he knew i am gonna finger that pussy now? do you think he would complain? would he get mad at me?" yoongi laughed, thrusting two fingers at once into you, deep inside, making you moan, clinging onto his shoulder. "he would probably say that i'm taking away his little sister's innocence, but what innocence?"

he inserted another finger, the rhythm becoming a little more violent as you also rubbed yourself against him, feeling his fingers go deep into you, the sound of your liquid being more audible than the loud moans you made.

"and i hope him forgive me, but from now on i'll do this all the time, and when i can't bring you in my car, i'll fuck you in the bathroom at the party, or in the dark corner, anywhere."

you saw him remove his fingers from you and then pull down your shorts and underwear, his fat cock jumping out making you salivate.fuck, the wet swollen glans made you desire yoongi even more, being full of him was the only thing that mattered now.

"the slut is happy that she's going to receive cock, isn't she?"

yoongi rubbed the head of his cock at your entrance, but he didn't enter you, he just stood there, rubbing, looking at your face while you moaned completely desperately asking him to enter you.

"that, beg me! show me how much that pussy needs my cock!"

“yoongi, fuck, please!” you moaned, body shaking as he rubbed his cock against you.

"does my whore need cock?”

"please!"

"your brother has no idea what a slut he has at home, right? thinking you're a saint, but you're nothing more than a little whore desperate to be filled."

"please..."

"please what?"

"fuck me, please yoongi"

he laughed, thrusting his dick into you, which made you choke at first, yoongi was big, nothing abnormal, but still big enough to fill you up. he went slow but deep, making you shiver every time the big dick hit your uterus.

“greedy little bitch” yoongi said as he increased his speed, his body rocking against the couch and your tits bouncing, yoongi laughed sadistically seeing the scene, seeing you squirm beneath him.

he sucked your nipple again, making you literally scream with pleasure, you had never felt anything like that.

"shut the fuck up, or all the neighbors will know you're get fucking by me!"

but you couldn't do it, the orgasm approaching in your belly, the fat cock opening you up and hitting the right spot, the hot tongue on your nipple, it was all too much, and yoongi realized.

yoongi removed his mouth from your nipple, only to slap them a few times, what was already red became even more so, and you could only scream in pleasure. yoongi clenched your jaw, making you open your mouth and then spitting there before finally kissing you.

"i should record this and show it to his brother, let him know that the little sister he cares for so much is a cumslut"

the wet, sloppy kiss, while he still hit you deep and fast, was enough to make you come, but yoongi didn't stop, even with your body shaking.

"a good slutty takes everything they give her." he kept thrusting, the overstimulation making your body react on its own and try to pull away as he fucked you harder and harder... you were going crazy and then yoongi finally came

you thought he was gonna stop, but what yoongi did was continue, watching his cum drip all over your leg and couch. and when his dick finally stopped leaking, he rubbed it against your clit, making you whimper softly as you came again...

“shit, jungkook is gonna kill you!”

"he might even kill me, but first i’m gonna fuck you a lot!" he said laughing, lowering his head to your pussy starting to eat you.

[jesuistrestriste]

I feel like we got past art x cowgirl!reader WAYYY too fast. But I especially love the idea of Stanford!art taking some dumb little boys trip down South to Texas or Georgia that Patrick INSISTS is necessary. and during the car ride there, in the middle of God knows where, they see a little 24hour diner and pull in because they haven't eaten since they left.

Patrick inevitably runs off with some pretty little brunette, leaving Art there tracing the rim of his glass impatiently. But the waitress walks up to his table, and suddenly he couldn't care less about wherever Patrick went.

He stammers on almost every question she asks him, and gets caught up in her freckles, the dimples that show themselves every time she giggles at him, that curly blonde hair, and 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 her long, dark red nails that he sees when she sets his food on the table. and the bit of cleavage peeking out from her uniform, and her little southern drawl -

One thing leads to another and she takes her break early to take him to her cherry red '67 Camaro and give him the most earth shattering head of his life in the passenger seat. He can NOT take his eyes off her nails shimmering in the pale moonlight, or the way they scratch down his chest when she finally slips her panties aside and sinks down on him, or when he finally just 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘴 for her to wrap them around his throat when he starts getting close.

They really do just do it better down south ♡ —🪐

[ᴵᵐ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗᶦʳᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ʷʳᶦᵗᶦⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃʳᵗ ʷ ᴱᴰ !! ᴵᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵃˢᵏ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶦᵐ ᵖʳᵃʸᶦⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ʷ ���ᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᶦˢ]

aaaagh i loved writing abt cowgirl!reader x art

and ugh! this is so yum…. i love the idea of art getting seduced in a bar or at some public event by someone tenderly domineering.. like they just get his brain all mushy and his knees all weak from a few words, and then he’s ready to go !

he’ll let them play with his body however they want; he’ll beg them to slap his face, squeeze his throat, and pull his hair until his hips stutter and he cums with a strangled little mewl :/

cowgirl!reader would definitely do things to him. one (1) quick fuck and suddenly he’s all “yes, ma’am” “no, ma’am” “of course, ma’am” “anything for you, ma’am”

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Gen Words: 2.8K~ Summary: Not too long after making peace with Homeworld and sparking the start of Era 3, Steven wakes up one morning to discover some... notable changes about himself.

AKA: The one where Steven finally hits his growth-spurt. All at once. Because of course the half-Gem kid could never experience such a human thing like puberty in a "normal" way.

[Part 1 of 2]

Just a few seconds later, knuckles rap against the door in answer to his perturbed cry. 

“Yo Steve-o, that you in there?” Amethyst calls. 

“Y-yeah?” he stammers. His brows threading inwards, he delicately runs his fingers over the ridge upon his throat, very much thrown off by the distinctly lower tenor of the sound coming from his own mouth. He swallows hard, pushing himself to speak again. Come on Steven, he berates himself, think of something lighthearted. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing. No need to completely freak out over this yet. “Who else would I be? It’s not like the whole town uses this bathroom…”

“I mean, I do sometimes. For fun.”

“Okay, fair point, but—”

“Dude, what’s wrong with your voice? Are you like, sick or somethin’?“

“No, it’s just—” 

He squeezes his eyes shut, blocking out all the nebulous, spinning distractions of his mind and the world beyond. Deep breath. It’s okay. Tons of things about his form may be entirely different right now, but like… he seems fine. Right?? Nothing about his body feels tangibly wrong like it did when he willfully stretched himself out on his 14th birthday, or when he changed all his fingers into cats, or when he lost all control of his aging and morphed into an anciently old man and almost died, it’s just… 

New.

New and wholly unfamiliar.

So what now? How can he bravely move forward with all this? What does he need to know? 

“Have, uh… have you ever shapeshifted by accident in your sleep?”

“Not that I‘m aware of,” she says, and he can practically hear the shrug in her tone. “Shapeshifting is a conscious thing you do. It’s a choice, y’know? It doesn’t just happen.”

A good long moment passes as he drinks this information in. He runs his hand through the short curls at the back of his neck as he stands there in the pair of too-small banana yellow pajamas he fit in just fine last night, musing.

“Huh… I guess that makes things pretty simple, then.”

“What d’ya’—”

“Amethyst, I think I’m finally older,” he says, still absolutely mystified by this prospect as he gawks at himself in the mirror. 

She gives a fond laugh. “Ch’a, right? You get older everyday, bud. Wild.”

“No, I mean I’m actually, physically older! Look!”

Steven whirls around and swings the bathroom door wide open to show her. Amethyst’s jaw drops.

“Whoa—! Dude!”

Chuckling nervously, he steps a few feet out, wriggling his bare toes against the wood floor. “I know, right?”

“What the heck, you weren’t kidding!” Before he can even move to say anything else, she spins on her heels and cups her mouth with her hands, hollering towards the temple door. “HEY, PEARL! GARNET! You gotta get out here and see this!”

His brows shoot towards his hairline, his heart hammering in his chest all the while at the thought of all the dumb show-and-tell he’s gonna have to deal with now. “Aww, come on, did you really have to—”

“Amethyst!” Pearl cries, scrambling through the still opening gap in the doorway with Garnet striding mere steps behind. She summons her spear from her gem and swings it to fighting stance with an artful flourish. “What happened? Where’s the threat? What do you need us for??”

Steven darts towards them, hands held up in a placating plea.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! There’s no danger! We’re fine. I just—”

“Oh, my stars—!” she gasps, allowing her spear to dissipate in a glittery flicker of light. “You’ve grown!”

“Nice look, Steven,” Garnet nods, a supportive smile gracing her lips.

“And you’re sure this is real this time? You’re not—?”

“No, no, I’m not stretching myself out, I promise. I just woke up like this.”

“B-but—” Pearl taps her fingers against her chin, appearing thoroughly puzzled— “I thought humans were supposed to age gradually, not all at once.”

Steven’s shoulders slump. “Well… that’s what I assumed too, but—”

“Come, sit with me,” Garnet says, walking around the warp pad to enter the living room. She sets herself down on the couch, patting the cushion in open invitation.

With a heavy, far too weary for his age sigh, Steven shoves his hands in the pockets of his too-small banana pajamas and plods his way over. The rest of the Gems follow suit. He settles himself right next to Garnet, with Pearl perched opposite to her and Amethyst happily lounging on the floor, leaning on the coffee table with her elbows. 

“Steven’s aging hasn’t aligned with the norms of humanity for a very long time,” she observes, a glint of morning sun that’s beaming through the window catching on the edge on the edge of her star shaped visor. Then, turning to him: “I’m curious why you think this is.”

He hums, considering all the chaotic happenings of the past few years. Despite the rare query she poses, he gets the sense that… in her vast wisdom… she already knows the answer. Or at least, a small sum of it. It should be noted that her future vision— as far-reaching as it otherwise is with the vast possibilities of existence— can’t ever touch any knowledge that she won’t be conscious for or present to receive, let alone retroactively scry into the past.

(And honestly? Thank goodness for that.)

“I’m not sure,” he says, a half-lie.

He can think of one reason he might’ve started aging again. Though, it’s not something he’s ready to talk to the Gems about yet. It’s… far too delicate a topic to risk bringing up so soon after the start of peaceful Era 3. But after spending a whole childhood being constantly compared to and mistaken as various versions of his mom… let’s just say, having his gem torn from his body and getting to see it reform into a version of himself (and not her) was simultaneously the worst and the best thing that could’ve ever happened to him. While undeniably traumatic, this experience served as the ultimate proof that he doesn’t have to waste another second of his existence chewing away at some burgeoning identity crisis, that he can live his life however he wants. As Steven. Not as Rose, or Pink Diamond, just… Steven.

He’s not exactly sure how all this mental weirdness translates into him staying stuck looking like a little kid for like… six or so years, but after he returned home from his latest escapade on Homeworld, he could sense that— despite all the messed up stuff he and Connie went through— his spirit was lighter, somehow.

So maybe, he thinks, he simply had to peel away at all the damaged layers of his identity to ready himself to move on to the next stage of his life. Maybe he had to stare death in the eye and pass through the heart of the storm in spite of all these hardships before he could piece the foundational truths of his story back together and learn to finally live again.

To start shifting his hopeful gaze towards the dawn of their bright, sunny future…

“I mean, I always kinda thought he stopped aging because we never did,” Amethyst says then, laying her cheek on the table. “Like, it happened around the time you moved in with us, yeah?”

He purses his lips, scanning his memory. “Uh… I think so? It might have been a year before. Two, even. But I was definitely hanging out with y’all a lot by then.”

She leans over and playfully slugs him in the arm.

“See, there you go! You always wanted to be just like us when you were a kid, so much that you even wore that same ol’ star shirt every day to match ours, ha! You must’ve wanted to be a Gem so badly that you subconsciously stopped becoming older at all.”

“That’s actually a pretty solid theory, Amethyst,” Pearl chimes in. “Good thinking!”

“We have seen you shift your form in response to your perception of others around you,” Garnet says with a nod. “This has caused you to temporarily age and shapeshift in the past, but for you to age in a stable way now, your perception of self must have stabilized, too. I’m very happy for you, Steven.”

She tousles his mess of curls with her gold ringed hand, a welcome little offering of affection that he eagerly leans into.

And then, out of nowhere, Amethyst starts cackling.

“Dude,” she blurts out between her peels of laughter, nudging his foot with her elbow, “I just realized— Greg’s gonna totally lose his shit when he sees this…”

Pearl’s expression scrunches inwards with prickly displeasure. “Language!” 

“What, it’s true!”

He waves Amethyst’s comment off. “Pshhh, my dad’s seen way weirder,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Like, did I ever tell y’guys how the cat fingers incident ended?”

“No!” the quartz exclaims with intensive fervor, and leans forward in anticipation. “Gimme the juicy deets, m’man!”

Garnet adjusts her visor then, her features falling into a dutiful line. “Speaking of Greg… story time can wait until later. Steven— if you want to see your father this morning, you need to head over there now… or there’s a good chance he’ll fall back asleep until one and you’ll miss your window.”

Amethyst’s lips fall into a pout as she slumps back against the foot of the couch, her arms crossed. “Awww, phooey. Spoil sport.”

He swallows a grimace as he internalizes Garnet’s prediction. Yeah, that sounds about right. That’s become a bad habit for his old man lately, staying up super late and then sleeping in almost half the day on weekends. Ever since he received that ten million dollar residues check it’s nothing that can hinder his financials anymore, thank goodness, but then again…

“Yeah… I should probably go make sure he wakes up,” he mutters, pushing his tired body off his seat. “I’ll need his help finding new clothes, anyways.”

The second he’s up and moving again, Amethyst darts around him and snatches his spot with such swift and viscous drive that one might believe this ploy were her sole quest and purpose in life. She stretches out against the seat back with a big, dramatic yawn, crossing her arms behind her head as she speaks. 

“It’s too bad you can’t just… I dunno… summon whatever clothes you want out of light, like us. That’s like the biggest bummer of humanity, if you ask me.”

“And when do you ever experiment with your outfit enough to have a strong opinion about this?” Pearl prods, crossing her arms. “It took you almost a decade to fix that asymmetrical shoulder strap.”

“Well, P… I like to think of myself as a Gem who would experiment with my outfit. One day. If I’m ever really, really bored. Consider it an Era 3 aspiration.”

Steven rocks back and forth on his heels, absentmindedly fiddling with the fraying bottom hem of his pajama top.

“Okay, uh… well, I’m gonna dress to leave now, so—”

“Yeah, see ‘ya.”

“Send a text if you need anything!” Pearl says with a casual wave.

“And don’t forget…” Garnet begins, the ellipses in her tone practically visible with the naked eye.

He pauses in his dutiful march to the stairs— (a somewhat unsteady march… as it turns out, shooting up about a foot and a half in height overnight tends to impact one’s sense of balance for the worst, go figure)— turning back to intercept whatever life advice or future vision she’s prepared for him this time. 

She grins, flashing him a quick heart with her hands instead. “We love you!”

~~

Steven trudges across the hot sands to his dad’s car wash sans his favorite flip flops, trying his very darnedest to wipe away the developing grimace on his face all the while. 

A small segment of him felt overjoyed when he first saw his reflection this morning, eager to look his age and finally grow up alongside his human friends. But after struggling to find anything that fits him even halfway right in his wardrobe, his good mood has rapidly spoiled. There’s a decent few reasons for this.

Reason number one: his old sandals are at least two sizes too small. His heels stick out over the end now, and the plastic thong digs into his toes something terrible. He literally can’t wear them without giving himself blisters. Ergo, his bare feet right now. 

Reason number two: none of his jeans sit right around the waist anymore, plus they make him look like he’s waiting for a flood. (Though thankfully, he found a stretchy blue skirt buried in one of his drawers that will do the trick for now.) 

And perhaps worst of all… reason number three: with his newly increased height, every single one of his treasured star shirts have been turned into ill-fitting crop tops, putting his gem on full display. He’s not against the concept of a crop top, but it sure ain’t a look he’s passionate about for everyday wear. It just feels… too exposing. Like, what about winter?? He can’t bear his whole midriff in winter, he’d freeze, and like… get hypothermia, or something. And not only that, but the longer he’s awake this morning the more an inescapable, thrumming ache starts to settle within the deepest core of his body, like even his bones themselves— the stubborn things— dare to object to this abrupt growth spurt.

Just… ugh. What an annoying hassle all these changes bring.  

“Stupid shirt,” he grouses, tugging at the too-tight collar, “stupid sandals, stupid Gem puberty! Why, oh why can’t I ever go through human stuff normally?”

His bare foot catches upon a sizable stone hidden amongst the beach. On any other day he would’ve successfully broken his fall, stumbling forwards a few awkward steps before regaining his balance and continuing on his way. But with his body now so different, and his center of gravity entirely off from what he’s used to, he head plants straight into the ground.

Wow, he thinks, spitting sand out of his mouth and pushing himself back to his feet. How elegant. Truly the shining paragon of coordination and grace.

Thank goodness no one was watching. Next time he’ll just have to remember to float.

He arrives at his dad’s van with no further incident. The rear doors are— following Garnet’s prediction- cracked open. Dad’s awake, at least for now.

“Daaaaaaaad,” he hollers, cupping his hands around his mouth to project. “A really, really weird thing happened, and I kinda need your help!”

A few spare seconds pass, seconds filled with the rustles of shifting blankets, the sound of a book being shut closed, and his dad’s low murmurs. The doors swing wide, though not as wide as Dad’s eyes when they wander around their bright, sunny surroundings and eventually land square on him and his new look.

“Wh— Steven, holy smokes! Look at you!”

With an awkward chuckle, he scratches away at an itch at the nape of his neck. “Heh heh, I know, right?”

“You’re almost as tall as your old man! When did this happen? How did this happen?”

“Some point last night, I guess,” he shrugs. “I just woke up like this. But Dad—” he clings onto his arm with mounting desperation— “I need your help to find some new shirts. Don’t you have like… whole boxes of your old tour merch stashed away somewhere? I don’t wanna have to get rid of my star, I just— I just need a bigger size, or something.”

“Hmmm…” Dad muses, scratching at the scruff of his beard. “Well, maybe, but…”

“But what?”

“But if any of it’s still around, then it’s probably in Amethyst’s room. All of the stuff from the storage unit ended up with her, remember?”

“Oh…” he says, brows furrowed, not quite able to parse this fact within his memory yet. And then… 

Ugh. That’s right.

Two New Years’ ago. The huge mess of crates and mattresses and long forgotten belongings. All that ridiculous Little Butler nonsense. Amethyst’s fight with Dad.

“Oh,” he mumbles, crossing his arms. “Right. Well, then let’s go find it!”

“R- right now?”

“Yeah, why not? I need new clothes, and you could see if there’s any old junk in there you might want to keep!”

With that, he grabs his dad’s hand and yanks him along, spirit filled with renewed purpose and vigor.

“And you’re sure you need my help for this?” Dad asks, lagging a step or two behind him as they march back across the beach together. “The Gems, they… well, they don’t usually want me going into the temple—”

“Oh, Amethyst will be fine,” he says with a wave of his palm. “She never cares when I go in there to check out her trash piles. ‘Sides, I need your help to find the right box! I have no idea what your old band stuff was stashed in.”

His dad flashes a tight smile, the sort he always serves up when he’s nervous, but also too timid to tell him that he’s nervous.

“Well… if you think she’ll allow it…” he relents, and picks up his pace to match his.

~~

[End Part 1... more to be shared later.]

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fic

three.

[two] [three] [four]

compare thee to a summer’s day.

The bell tones as you enter the cafe, you glance around the store. Hoping to see someone. Your eyes land on him. The unnamed boy from class. “Yes.” You mutter excitedly as you head to the front counter to put in your order. 

Last night was a rough night as you had some time to think due to Powder leaving your shared dorm to hang out with her boyfriend. She offered to stay, repeatedly but you told her some solitude would be good for you. It was and it wasn’t.

Maddie reentering your life only brought up the sour memories of the friendship that she caused to end. You didn’t even know the guy's name but he meant so much to you. You called him by his gamertag. 

Machine Herald. Something you made fun of because his friend had made it for him. You called him 'Ma' as a joke and then it stuck. He always told you how stupid it was. It was like you were calling him mom. After a while his complaints slowed and that lived to be his new name. 

“[Name]!” The barista cuts through your thoughts, you snatch the pastries along with your coffee on the hard surface. Thanking the worker curtly before heading over to who you were determined to be your new friend. You slide into the booth across from him.

“Hiii!” You sang, sliding over the coconut lilikoi puff to him. Taking a sip out of your straw as you do so. 

His face contorts with confusion, staring down at the pastry. “What’s this?” He asks, suspicious of the food. “A desert.” You smile, opening your own little baggy that held a cherry danish. “I know- I meant why?” His gaze finally meets with yours after you had taken a bite of the sustenance.

You hold up your index finger to give you a second. 

Swallowing it down, taking a drink to clear your throat out. “I want to be friends.” You declare with a straight face, not able to hold it long because you begin to grin right away. “Friends? You sure this isn’t some sort of decoy so that you can copy off of me later in the semester?” He accuses you of such an abominable thing, your hand squeezes at your chest. 

“Oh my gosh! You think I’m dumb!?” Your eyes were wide and his face heats up. “No, no. I- I just- this seems like a bribe.” He explains his thinking process and you giggle. “It’s okay, I know I’m not dumb. I genuinely just want to be your friend!” You take another bite of your sweet. 

He purses out his lips, observing the pastry before him. How did you know his favorite was this? What a lucky guess. He doesn’t respond to you, only taking a bite of the puff. You beam at this, you were begging that you were right about what he would enjoy. And you were. 

The relief washes over your face. “I’m [Name] by the way.” You wipe your dirtied hand on your pants before thrusting it over the table towards him. His hand smacked against yours as he grabbed it. Awarding you a microscopic shake before taking it back to his side. 

“Viktor.” He voices, proceeding to another bite of his food. “And thank you, this is lovely.” He acknowledges his gratitude. “Of course! You seemed like a coconut lover.” You tell him with a close-eyed grin. He didn’t know how to respond to that. 

“So, chemistry. We have that today. How fun!” You announce something he clearly already knows but amongst this he hums out a ‘yes’ to it anyway. “Do you like science?” You ask him, eyes locked on him. He averts your stare by focusing on his pastry or his phone that was face down. “Yeah, do you?” 

“Mm, it’s alright. I’m more into like English. Or art. I’m a Fine Arts Major. Sculpting, painting, all the fun stuff.” You ramble. Viktor didn’t understand how you had this much energy at 8 o'clock in the morning. “That’s cool.”

It’s sincere though. He wasn’t just saying that. 

“What’s your major?” You finish your danish, crumpling the paper baggy. “Biochemistry.” He answers, you gasp. “Chemistry makes sense for you then, huh?” You snicker, standing up from your spot after you see the time. 

He grabs his cane, slowly gliding himself out of the booth. You grab his trash, skipping over to the bin and throwing it away. Viktor figures you’re leaving now but instead you are opening the door, standing there patiently as he makes his way towards it.

 “Let’s walk together, yeah?” You let him walk through the door before following after him. “If you want to.” He curtly nods his head, surprisingly he didn’t mind your presence. Or your rambles as you would ask him a question, listen to him and wait for him to return the query to you so you could chatter once more. 

“It’s nice to see the doors open when I’m coming to class.” You sweat, recalling how you were late to a few of your classes already. Viktor chuckles lowly. Your heart pings at the sound, this was the first time he laughed the entire conversation. You stood up straighter, proud. 

For the next two hours of the lecture you tried to focus on the professor but your mind kept going back to Viktor’s laugh you had suppressed out of him. You needed to make it happen again. 

“Alright, choose your partners. This project will need to be done by October 14th. That gives you a month from now.” The professor speaks, writing the date down on the chalkboard. You immediately look to Viktor.

“Partners?” Your legs were practically jumping up and down. His lips twitch upwards. “Partners.” He agrees and you let out a small squeal.

“We’re so getting first place.” 

“It’s not a contest?” He breathily snickers, another laugh.

Another win for you. 

“Everything’s a contest if you make it one.” You shrug your shoulders, standing up from your seat. “Will you be at the cafe tomorrow?” You tilt your head to the side. 

“I’ll be there.” He says. “See you then, Vikkie!” You wave goodbye, walking out of the classroom. 

————————————————

love.[name]3 12 337 127 ↗️ …

Posts followers following

[name] [last name] she/her

☾˙❀‿❀˙☽

Piltover uni!!! 2028🎓

@ whowhathuh

@ [name]artsie

————————————————

Viktor scrolls on your account, seeing that you mainly have photos of you with your friends up. The occasional selfie. Your highlights separated and organized.

He goes through each one, observing every picture in perfect detail. Curious about the type of persona you put out on the internet. It was pretty much identical to who you actually were. Your energy was bright, shining on others. 

He looks at your bio, seeing that you have your art and spam linked in it.

Your spam was private but your art account was luckily public like your main. It had 5,607 followers. 

——————————————

[name]artsie 27 5607 27 ↗️ …

posts followers following

bozo she/her

doing this to be as famous as those turtles…

<3

Followed by: caitlynnnk, violentvi, melmedarda, and m.herald2077

——————————————————

He gawked at the first three posts, you did say you were a fine arts major but he didn’t think you were going to be this amazing! You recreated smaller versions of sculptures you’re incredibly fond of.

Your paintings were of crowds of people. Different places each time though. 

He then sees that Violet, Mel and Caitlyn followed the account. Along with another that he hadn’t seen in a long time. He clicked on the name. M.Herald2077. 

——————————————

Vik.tor_e 0 137 120 ↗️ …

posts followers following

Viktor E. he/him

2027🎓

followed by: caitlynnnk, and violentvi

——————————————

He had a following of 137, no posts except for highlights. You bite the inside of your mouth before clicking on the first highlight, labeled: “friends.”

He was never in the pictures, just blurry photos of his friends having a fun time. A lot of them were at a park at night time. A few others of the group drinking on someone’s porch.

You click to the next highlight, this one just having a moon emoji as its label. It was pictures of random views but again, only at nighttime.

It was beautiful nonetheless. 

And the last highlight was labeled ‘ma.’ Your heart ached at the familiar name.

It was pictures of himself, his face covered. They were either mirror pictures with his phone covering his features, or someone taking his photo and he was looking the other way. 

Ma… What a coincidence. 

You then boldly press the follow button, swiping away from his account.

You listen to the song playing in your airpod as you go to your spam account, wanting to vent on your private story. Humming the music.

Before you even get to click on the button you see a notification pop up on the top of your screen. 

[Message request from: maddieee_lol] 

Your face drops, ignoring it with a quick swipe. You press the little plus button on your profile picture. 

—————————————

UGHHHH HE’S SO COOLLLLLLL

I need to be his bestest friend

trust it will happen🤞 :P

You post it on your close friends, triple checking that Maddie couldn’t see it even though you never accepted her request.

Placing your phone on the charger you walk out of your dorm room. “Omg, hey Gert!” You jog over to the girl who you used to have a class with last year. “Hey, [Name]!” She politely says in return, unlocking her dorm, about to enter it. 

“How have you been!? I can’t believe we're neighbors!” You point out, extremely giddy about seeing another good-natured person this semester. “I’m good, I know how exciting! Wanna come in?” She holds the door open and you enter after her offer. “So pretty!” You compliment. 

“Thank you, it’s nice seeing you [Name]. I was worried we wouldn’t have bumped into one another this year.” Gert pouts, you internally laugh at her words. Mylo would’ve made it happen, he found Gert to be gorgeous. Stalking her frequently since he was too much of a pussy to speak to her. 

You were going to see her one way or another this year.

“Ah, well fate said otherwise!!” You eagerly thrilled, clasping your hands together. “Hah, I’m glad. I actually entered art this year because of you.” She mentions and you perk your head up towards her. “No way! Maybe we have the same professor or same class!!” You jump over to her as she pulls out her schedule, handing it to you. You fervently snatch the paper from her, scanning it over.

“We do! We have the same class on Friday!” Your eyes were sparkling, giving the paper back. Gert wondered if you ever felt a bad emotion, always being so… electric and bright. 

You begin to ramble about how excited you were. “I need to show you this painting I’m working on! I’m painting one of my sculptures. I haven’t been very motivated or… mused? Did I use that right?” You jut out your bottom lip as you thought about it for a moment. You roll your eyes, deeming that you didn’t care. “Whatever, I’m painting this sculpture. Atropos. Goddess of fate and destiny. My favorite work done by Carstens.” You inform her, you went to grab your phone, forgetting you left it in your room on the charger. “Shoot! I’ll be right back.” 

Gert only smiles, waiting for you to get back. You rush into your dorm, plucking the device off of the mattress. Speeding back to your friend’s dorm. Slightly out of breath. “I am- hah- so out of shape.” You stuck a hand out as you hunched over pleading with yourself to breathe. 

Gert laughs at your figure, shaking her head. “Sorry, sorry. One second.” You cough, you felt slight embarrassment by the fact that you were so out of breath by just running down the hall and back. 

You fix your posture, opening your phone. You see a new notification, someone followed your main account. You click on it, forgetting all about showing Gert your painting.

[vik.tor_e is now following you].

You smile at your phone screen before snapping yourself out of it. Clearing off Instagram and going to your gallery. You had over 7000 pictures on your phone. Capturing almost every single memory you’ve ever had. You go to your art album. 

“See! It still needs more shading and I was thinking of adding vines to it!” You reveal to the girl who has almost gotten bored sitting there waiting. Her pupils dilate at the masterpiece on the screen. “[Name], you’re so talented.” She whines out. 

“Awe, so sweet!” You place your phone in your back pocket. You think back to Mylo and his weirdly obsessive crush over this girl. You understand why, she’s such a sweetheart. You then remember the karaoke night that’s in two days. “Do you like to sing?” You suddenly ask. 

“Huh?” She furrowed her eyebrows. “Do you like to sing?” You repeat. “I mean, I guess.” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Want to come to this karaoke night with my friends and I?” You propose to Gert who thinks for a moment. Pressing her lips together like this was a tough decision to make. 

“Sure.” She shortly answers in a simple manner. 

“Great! I’ll pick you up, be sure to dress pretty!!” You leave the room, twiddling your fingers before shutting the door.

You calmly walk back to your dorm, you forgot your whole reason for going out of your dorm to begin with. Until you sat down on your bed. 

“Shit, I have pee!” You cry out under your breath, standing back up. 

[libraryofgage]

Harlequin Prince

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One Harley Quinn One (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one) Scooby Gang (there are also plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

I'm a simple woman who believes Steve deserves to be a little unhinged sometimes, and having Harley Quinn as a mother is the perfect excuse to make that happen lol

Anyway, I know I haven't updated some of my other series in a hot minute; I've just been busy with work and a little sick ngl

If you'd like to be tagged for any new parts in this series, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

-------

Steve's earliest memory is of being tucked into bed with a Batman night light plugged into the wall and his mother squeezed in next to him. She's wearing her softest pajamas, and Steve idly rubs the fabric under his thumb. In her lap is a huge book that she flips through, humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" under her breath before finally stopping on a page. "Okay, Dumplin', let's read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder," she finally says, wiggling some to get comfortable before clearing her throat.

Her voice is soft and a little nasally, and Steve obediently closes his eyes when she starts reading. After a few minutes, she gently cards her fingers through his hair, her palm warm as it slides over his scalp. Eventually, he drifts off, his dream so vivid that he still remembers the oversized hammers with their white doctor coats and floating clipboards.

The first time Steve's mother is sent (back) to Arkham, he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Uncle Bruce picks him up from school. Steve had been waiting long after the other kids were picked up by their parents, a misshapen pink-and-blue coaster for his mother that he made in art class in his hands, when one of Uncle Bruce's fancy cars pulled up to the school.

The passenger window rolled down, and Bruce looked almost pained as he met Steve's eyes. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the door from the inside.

Steve walked up to the door but didn't get in. "Mom said I should only go home with her," he said, "unless you know our secret code."

"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."

Steve stood for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. He closed the door, pulled on his seat belt, and carefully held the coaster in his lap. "Where's Mom?" he asked, watching as Bruce turned down the radio and slowly pulled away from the school.

"Your mother is....going to be away for a while," Bruce said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She did something bad, and now she's going to stay in time out because of it."

"Mom says you shouldn't dumb things down just because I'm young. She says it's not good for my development."

Bruce got a slight smile at that, his lips twitching up as he glanced at Steve. "Is that so," he said, his grip on the wheel loosening some. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Your mother blew up a warehouse. She was apprehended by Batman and has been sent to Arkham for a few months. Since I'm listed as your godfather, you'll stay with me until she's released."

Steve didn't reply. He just looked down at his coaster and wondered if he'd be able to convince his Uncle Bruce to visit Arkham so he could give it to her.

He did not, in fact, get to visit her at Arkham during that stint. But Steve did get to visit on her next one, which was almost three years later to the day. Steve's first visit to Arkham was on his 8th birthday, and he was chaperoned by Uncle Bruce and Nightwing (he wasn't allowed to call Dick by his real name when he was in costume, so Steve just didn't call him anything at all).

That was also the first time Steve truly experienced Arkham's lax security. Through no fault of his own (and he would continue to argue this point; how did two superheroes let an 8 year old wander off?), Steve had somehow ended up in another part of Arkham altogether.

This hallway had large cells with reinforced glass walls that allowed Steve to look inside. He could name most of the people he passed, recognizing Killer Croc and Riddler and the Penguin by his mother's descriptions of their defining features. Most of them tried talking to Steve, but he pushed ahead, eager to see if his mother was at the end of the hall.

She wasn't. Instead, Steve found another woman. She had green skin and bright red hair and Steve hadn't been able to contain himself. He'd practically squished his face against the glass and asked, "Are you Poison Ivy?"

"Oh, her he talks to," the Penguin said, his tone mean and his voice carrying.

Poison Ivy ignored him, choosing to instead open one eye from where she lay on the bed. She stared at Steve before sitting up. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"Nope! But my mom knows you. She talks about you all the time. She said you're the baddest badass to ever badass," Steve said.

"Oh. You're Harley's kid," Poison Ivy replied, walking over to the glass and crouching down to meet his gaze. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"It's my birthday, so Uncle Bruce said I could see Mom."

"Well, happy birthday. Now, what are you doing here?"

Steve blinked, looked around the hall again, and realized for the first time that he was, in fact, a bit lost. "Uh, I'm not sure. I was with Uncle Bruce before."

A moment passed between the two of them in which Poison Ivy said nothing while Steve tried to remember how, exactly, he'd ended up here. When he came up blank, he simply shrugged and looked back at her. "Hey, you like plants, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, kid, I like plants," she said, her tone taking on the same inflection his mother's did when he asked something she thinks is obvious.

Steve didn't linger on the tone. Instead, he dug around in his coat pocket for a few seconds, pushing past candy wrappers and erasers until his hand closed around an acorn he'd picked up off the ground a few days ago. He pulled it out and presented it to Poison Ivy on his palm. "Is it still a plant if it fell off the tree?" he asked.

"Yeah," Poison Ivy said, her voice soft like she was staring at something unbelievable. Steve watched as a huge grin spread across her face, her eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands to the glass. "Can you do me a favor, Steve?" she asked.

"Sure! Mom said you're a person I should listen to," he said, starting to close his fingers around the acorn. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't actually know how to give the acorn to her with the glass between them.

"Your mom is right. You should always listen to me. And her. But mostly me right now," Poison Ivy said, her gaze a bit softer as she looked at Steve. "So, go ahead and put the acorn on the ground and stand as far away as possible."

Steve didn't question her. Whatever Poison Ivy wanted to do would probably be fine. After all, Uncle Bruce didn't warn him about talking to her like he had about the Joker. So, Steve put the acorn down and hurried to the other end of the hall. "Now what?" he shouted.

The only response he got was the acorn shuddering, spinning across the floor, and then bursting open. In the blink of an eye, a tree grew, its roots breaking through the ground and its branches shattering the glass of Poison Ivy's cell. Steve was just thinking that was probably why Poison Ivy told him to stand back when she walked out, rolling her shoulders and breathing like the air is fresh.

She looked at Steve and walked over, standing in front of him for a moment before sweeping him into her arms. "Thanks, kid," she said, opening her hand and letting a tiny purple flower grow from her palm. She tucked it behind Steve's ear. "Now, let's go find your mom."

Of course, Poison Ivy's escape had set off numerous alarms, and Uncle Bruce just about fainted when he saw her carrying Steve while Nightwing looked two seconds from laughing. But Steve's mom had smiled so wide that her cheeks must have hurt after only two seconds when she saw them.

It was, by far, the best birthday Steve had ever had.

‐-----------------------------

Hawkins, Indiana, is...boring. Steve has only been in the town for a few weeks, and he's bored out of his mind. He could have been sent to Metropolis or Central City. Hell, he would have preferred Bludhaven to the absolute snoozefest that is Hawkins. But, no, Uncle Bruce insisted on somewhere safe, which means somewhere boring, which means...Steve will just have to make his own fun.

That's why he's found himself in a dive bar on the edge of town, sitting at the bar as the owner (a woman named Bev who definitely killed her husband; Steve would know, he's met plenty of women who definitely killed their husbands) refuses to give him anything alcoholic. "Listen, kid," she says, her tone hard and unyielding, "I can give you water, a Shirley Temple, or a permanent ban. Which do you prefer."

After a few seconds, Steve sighs, slaps way more money than is necessary on the bar, and says, "Gimme a Shirley Temple."

Bev nods, swipes up the cash, and starts making his drink. He watches her with a slight frown before looking away, noticing another boy his age wiping down a table. He looks, and Steve cannot say this affectionately enough, like a wannabe goon for a motorcycle gang. Between the bandana stuffed into his back pocket, his slightly frizzy hair falling to his shoulders, and the leather jacket/vest combo, the guy is the first reminder of home Steve has seen since arriving in this sleepy town.

When he notices the guy's shoulders tense, Steve looks away to keep from being caught staring. A Shirley Temple is placed in front of him, and Steve represses a sigh, missing the sounds of fights happening behind him as he drinks with Jason.

"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around here?"

Steve slowly takes a sip of his drink, the saccharine cherry flavor washing over his tastebuds, and glances at an older man a few seats down from him. He looks the man over, lingering on the half-tucked shirt, muddy loafers, and circles under his eyes. Without permission, his mother's DSM-V rushes through his mind, a blur of his mother's voice accompanying the page flips. They finally settle on "Adjustment Disorder," accompanied by his mom saying, "Sometimes, that's just a fancy term for a mid-life crisis, Dumplin'."

Without thinking, Steve asks in return, "Aren't you a little old to still be going through a mid-life crisis?"

In Gotham, that might get him a laugh, an eye roll, and possibly an elbow to the ribs from whichever friend accompanied him. Here, it gets him a tense silence that he only thought happened in bad movies gearing up for a fight sequence. Seriously, what is wrong with Hawkins?

"I'll give you one chance to apologize," the guy says, clearly thinking he's being sufficiently threatening.

It takes every ounce of Steve's self-control to keep from laughing at the guy. Does that usually work? Do people usually find this guy threatening? He's got nothing on Alfred, so Steve just can't bring himself to even fake intimidation.

"Yeah, don't hold your breath, man," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip. The Shirley Temple isn't bad, but it's not what he was expecting, and it feels like just another disappointment atop a pile of them.

They're building in his chest, now that he thinks about it. Steve is slowly suffocating under the weight of them. They buzz in his lungs, surging through him until the energy is so overwhelming that he has to bounce his leg and tap his finger against his glass to expel some of it. He shouldn't have agreed to leave Gotham, or at the very least, he shouldn't have left the location entirely up to Bruce. Holy shit, that was a dumb decision. He ought to know better.

A sudden, annoyingly harsh drag of chair legs against the floor rings in Steve's ears, making his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch. He looks over to see the guy standing over him, glaring down at Steve like that's supposed to scare him when nothing else has.

Steve sighs, drinking the last of his Shirley Temple before standing. Over the guy's shoulder, he can see the boy his age watching them, and...well, Steve kind of wants to make a good impression on the first person to remind him of home. Plus, a fight sounds great. He'd love a chance to expel some of this disappointment-fueled energy.

The guy suddenly snorts, pulling Steve's attention back. "You're young, kid, so I'll let you off the hook this time around, but learn some respect."

What? Seriously? All of that, and the guy doesn't even start a fight? Does he know how rude that is? He'd get killed in Gotham. "Oh," Steve says, his voice flat, "you're scared of getting your ass kicked."

Somehow, that's what the guy considers the final straw. It wasn't even that good. Like, that's just fucking small talk in Gotham, and Steve can't bring himself to understand what about it was so infuriating that the guy swings his fist.

Either way, Steve happily embraces the fight. His eyes light up, and adrenaline rushes through his veins as he ducks and kicks the guy's left knee. The familiar sound of a bone snapping rings out. Steve's ready for more, hands curled into fists and held up to protect his face, when the guy drops.

After one kick, he drops. Steve blinks, staring down at the guy cursing and holding his knee. He slowly lowers his hands when he realizes this isn't some kind of fake-out diversion and looks at Bev behind the counter. She's frowning at him, hands on her hips, and Steve comes to the conclusion that bar fights are not, in fact, a thing in Hawkins. "Do they usually go down so easy around here?" he asks.

"They usually don't fight at all."

Oh. Holy shit, this place is boring.

Steve sighs and pushes some hair out of his face, frowning slightly. "Well, uh, sorry about the disturbance, then. I'll just...get going," he says, awkwardly pushing his chair in and doing the same for the guy whose kneecap he kicked. Nobody says anything as he leaves, and Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, frustration and disappointment and homesickness building in him.

He's halfway to his car when somebody shouts, "Hey! Wait!"

With a huff, Steve stops and turns, his mood only lightening when he sees the boy that was wiping down tables. He waits patiently, watching as the boy runs up to him and holds out a wad of cash. "Bev said to give this to you," he says.

"What, is my money not good enough?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the cash before looking up and meeting brown eyes.

"No, no," the boy says, "Bev only gives change to people she likes. She said you're welcome to come by and kick Phillip's ass whenever you want."

Steve blinks, studying the boy for any signs of lies. When he doesn't find one, he takes the cash and nods. "Good to know," he says.

"Yeah. Right. Um, I'm going back inside now."

"Hold on," Steve says, grinning when the boy listens and stands still. He takes a step closer, holds out his hand, and says, "My name's Steve. I'm new around here, if you couldn't tell."

The boy stares at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, the rings on his fingers pressing against Steve's skin. "Eddie. I could tell," he says, his shoulders relaxing some. "Where you from?"

"Gotham."

"Holy shit, no wonder you looked so ready for a fight," Eddie says, staring at Steve like he's incomprehensible. Steve tries not to preen under his gaze. "Hawkins must be dead compared to Gotham."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, glancing down at his and Eddie's hands still clasped together despite the handshake being over. "But I think I'll have some fun anyway."

[commanderyes]

The Commander Says Goodbye

I’m not going to lie, I’m extremely anxious as i’m writing this, out of what these news could mean to a lot of people, and my heart feels heavy enough it could drop down my ribcage any minute from now and squish all my other organs. But I’ve been dancing around this topic for a long time now, and I think i’ve finally reached a point where i can’t ignore it anymore, for my own sake.

I hereby announce Commander Yes has come to an end.

As I’ve mentioned plenty of times before, here and to many other people, when I began this comic all the way back in 2018 I was in a really bad, really low place in my life in every sense of the word, and it was a spur-of-the moment decision to cheer myself up, because Path of Fire had just released and my enjoyment of the game had reached fever pitch and I had been playing Guild Wars 2 alone since as far as launch, and none of my other friends had ever really gotten into it. I guess I just, dunno, cried out into the big maelstrom of the community, one voice amidst millions, because i wanted SOMEBODY to look at what i did and revel in the nerdery with me.

And somehow the snowball began to roll and people wanted more and more of what I could do, and I was being actively reached out to, and, well, some time after that I landed my first ever job, I discovered a lot of things about myself, and I found myself in communities that welcomed me with open arms, and many of the people in there have since become among the best friends I could’ve possibly encountered, kindred souls who i’ve shared joys and sorrows for many years and who I can’t imagine living without anymore.

And all the while I kept making the comics, and with every entry posted every week I’d keep having people stopping to comment on them, and whether they were dumb jokes or personal takes on the story, they’d all share how much what I do kept hitting them in the kokoro, and to this day whenever I play anywhere in the game I still get people who recognize me and thank me for doing what I do. It was wonderful, it IS wonderful, and seeing that response motivated me to keep going, because what did still mattered to people, out there.

But I did always say I planned to keep doing these comics until I ran out of energy for them, and I think i’ve finally reached that point.

Because ever since I actually landed that job I’m exhausted and sleep-deprived every other day, so much so that I only have time to work on the comic on saturdays and sundays, and it gets harder and harder to just sit and draw, and at that point it was just more work, and while I still enjoy and play Guild Wars 2 a lot, it no longer consumes my time and attention like I’ve used to and i’ve been having fun with more personal projects, and honestly the direction the story is taking these days does not sit right with me and it’s hard to find inspiration in that, and this might be borderline selfish but every year I find people care less and less about the comics and it really takes a hit to you motivation when hardly anybody responds after you’ve spent a whole weekend trying to squeeze a five-page comic out.

And, well, I have been doing these for six years straight, and I think that’s a good run. I’m tired, and ready to move on, at long last. Let it be someone else’s turn.

But that’s the beautiful thing about this community, isn’t it? Even if I’m hanging up the hat, there are a whole lot of fantastic artists out there, as we speak, still cranking out works of art, deserving of all the attention they can get. And think of all the artists yet to come! For every story that ends, another story is just about to begin!

The world keeps on spinning, one way or another.

I’ll be closing my patreon shortly after this, but the reddit archives and tumblr blog shall remain for people to browse whenever they feel like (or until they both go in flames, i guess, what social media isn’t about to these days)

I still don’t think I ever was that much of a big deal, but all the same, to everyone who’s ever supported me and helped me be the person I am right now, to everyone who’s been there from the beginning, to all the devs of this game that has captured us for nearly a decade now, to all my fellow players and artists out there

Thank you.

See you out there, fellow commanders. Still the stars find their way.

[atinyjules]

In Your Shoes ft. Boyfriend!K

A/n: Body swap au! I've been thinking about this fic since last year frfr.

Here it iss

Genre: Bodyswap au, established relationship au, fluff, romance

Pairings: Boyfriend!K x Kaori (fem oc)

Warnings: none

K had mastered the art of dodging conversations he didn’t want to have. And right now? He was dodging the biggest one yet.

Kaori was curled up next to him, tracing random patterns on his arm. “So… when are you finally going to meet my dad?”

K tensed, eyes flickering to the TV as if the answer to his problems lay somewhere in the rerun of an old action movie. “Meet him? I already have. Plenty of times.”

Kaori sighed. “You know what I mean. A real introduction. Sitting down. Talking."

“Yeah, no thanks.”

She frowned. “K.”

He groaned, throwing his head back against the couch. “Kaori, your dad hates me. He doesn’t even try to hide it.”

Kaori sat up, crossing her arms. “He does not.”

“Oh, really?” K turned to her, deadpan. “He calls me ‘that guy’ like I’m some random punk off the street. He barely acknowledges me when I’m around. And let’s not forget the time he looked me up and down and said, ‘So this is what you’re dating?’”

Kaori winced. Okay, that one was… harsh.

“He’s just protective,” she argued. “He’s like that with everyone.”

“Yeah? Did he say the same thing to your ex?”

Kaori opened her mouth, then closed it.

K huffed. “Exactly.”

She sighed, nudging his shoulder. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m really not.”

Kaori leaned into him, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “Well… if we’re going to be serious about each other, you’ll have to deal with him eventually.”

K exhaled. He knew that. He knew it was inevitable. He just wished—

No, that was dumb.

That night, lying in bed, he stared up at the stars through his window.

"Man, I wish Kaori’s dad actually liked me."

Just a passing thought. Nothing serious.

Then morning came.

And everything was wrong.

K woke up, immediately sensing something off. The bed wasn’t his. The room wasn’t his.

And—

Wait.

His hair was long.

His stomach twisted. He sat up too fast, heart pounding as he looked around. Where the hell—?

His eyes landed on the mirror across the room.

And there—staring back at him—

Was Kaori.

His breath hitched. No. No, no, no. This wasn’t—this couldn’t—

He scrambled out of bed, tripping over his own feet. Except they weren’t his feet.

They were Kaori’s.

"Oh, sh—"

His phone vibrated on the nightstand. Hands shaking, he grabbed it.

Incoming Call: K.

His name. His number.

His real number.

With a sinking feeling, he answered. "...Hello?"

A shaky breath came through the speaker. "K? Is it you?!"

K’s heart clenched. It was his voice—except there was something off about it. He could hear the panic, the raw fear underneath.

"Kaori?"

"Oh my god, K, I'm so scared!" Her voice trembled. "One moment I was me and the next I— I woke up and it wasn’t my room and—" A sharp inhale. "I looked in the mirror and— K, I’m YOU."

K felt his whole body go cold.

This was a nightmare.

And the worst part?

Kaori’s dad was downstairs, expecting to have breakfast with his daughter.

K gripped the phone tighter, his pulse pounding in his ears. "Okay. Okay. Just—just stay calm."

"Stay calm?" Kaori echoed, her voice rising in panic. "K, I woke up in your body! I have your voice! Your hands! Your—your everything! What the hell are we supposed to do?!"

K swallowed hard, running a hand through his—her—hair. "I don’t know!" He squeezed his eyes shut. "I mean, what even is this? Some kind of freaky dream? A curse? Did we get hit by a truck and swap souls?"

Kaori made a strangled noise on the other end. "This is not the time for jokes!"

"I’m not joking, I’m panicking!" K shot back. He turned toward the mirror again, staring at Kaori’s wide, terrified eyes—except they were his eyes now. "This is insane. What are we supposed to do?"

A heavy pause. Then, in the softest, most horrified whisper—

"I’m under the same roof as your father."

Kaori stiffened. "K."

"Kaori, I am in the same house as your dad." K’s voice was barely above a whisper, like the mere mention of the man might summon him. His entire body—her body—tensed. "If he even looks at me, I’m screwed. If I say something weird, I’m screwed. If I breathe the wrong way, I’m—"

"K, this is not the time to panic about my dad!" Kaori hissed.

"No, no, this is exactly the time to panic!" K shot back. "He already doesn’t like me. What happens if I mess up and he realizes something’s wrong? What if he thinks you—uh, me—are possessed or something?!"

Kaori groaned. "K, focus!"

K shut his mouth, taking a deep breath. "Okay. Okay. Fine. We fix this. How?"

A heavy silence.

Kaori’s breathing was still shaky, and honestly? K wasn’t doing much better.

"Okay," she said finally, voice steadier but still laced with fear. "Think. Did we do anything weird before this happened? Eat something weird? Touch something weird? Did you—did you wish for anything?"

K froze.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

His gaze flickered to the window, to the clear blue sky where stars had glittered just last night.

"…I might’ve made a wish," he admitted.

Kaori went silent. “What?”

K ran a hand down his—her—face, already regretting opening his mouth. “Look, it wasn’t anything serious. Just—last night, I was looking at the stars, and I just… wished your dad liked me.”

A beat of silence.

Then Kaori let out a slow, disbelieving breath. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

"I didn't think it would actually do anything!" K protested. "It was just a passing thought! People wish on stars all the time! It’s not like I expected to wake up in your body, Kaori!"

Kaori groaned. “K, this is like one of those stupid fairytales where someone wishes for something, and the universe screws them over.”

“Yeah, well, tell the universe I’m not laughing.”

Another pause.

Then Kaori sighed. “Okay. If this is really because of your wish, then we probably just have to stay like this until it’s fulfilled.”

K’s stomach dropped. “...What?”

“That’s how these things usually go, right?” Kaori reasoned. “You wished for my dad to like you. That means something has to happen before we switch back.”

K felt a headache coming on. “No, no, no. You don’t get it. That man already thinks I’m bad news. What am I supposed to do? Win him over as you?”**

Kaori hesitated. “…Maybe?”

K groaned. “That’s insane. That’s impossible. That’s—”

A knock on the door.

His breath caught.

“Kaori? Breakfast is ready.”

K froze. The voice was deep. Stern. Familiar.

Kaori’s dad.

Oh. Oh, shit.

K sat at the table, stiff as a board. Kaori’s parents and her brother, Fuma, kept sneaking glances at him as they ate.

Just act normal.

Kaori’s mom smiled. "You’re quiet this morning, sweetheart."

"Am I?" K blurted out.

Fuma squinted. "And you’re holding your chopsticks like a caveman."

K glanced down—too stiff, too tight. Crap. He quickly adjusted.

Kaori’s dad set his cup down. "Are you feeling alright, Kaori?"

K stiffened. Oh god.

"Y-Yeah!" His voice cracked. He coughed. "Didn’t sleep great!"

Kaori’s mom frowned. "Maybe you should rest today."

K nodded quickly, shoving more rice into his mouth just to avoid speaking.

Fuma frowned. "Weird."

Kaori’s dad kept staring.

K focused on eating—**carefully, normally—**wishing he could disappear.

This was going to be a long day.

K barely made it back to Kaori’s room before Fuma slipped in, shutting the door behind him.

"Alright, what’s going on with you?"

K tensed. "What do you mean?"

Fuma crossed his arms. "You’re acting weird. Too quiet, too stiff. And don’t even get me started on the chopsticks thing."

K hesitated, then sighed. "Okay… don’t laugh." He took a deep breath. "I’m not Kaori."

Silence.

Then Fuma clicked his tongue. "I knew it."

K blinked. "…Wait, what?"

Fuma scoffed. "I know it’s you, K. Kaori never starts the day without nagging at Dad for being mean to you. The fact that she didn’t say anything today? Super suspicious."

K exhaled sharply. "Okay, yeah. It’s me."

Fuma smirked. "Figures. So, genius, how do we fix your dumb wish before you ruin my sister’s life?"

K stared at Fuma, completely thrown. "Wait… how do you know about the wish?"

Fuma raised an eyebrow. "Kaori—well, you—already called me." He leaned against the doorframe. "She woke up, freaked out, and the first thing she did was panic-call me from your phone."

K blinked. "She… called you?"

Fuma smirked. "Yeah. Begged me to come over before she lost her mind. Honestly, she sounded more scared about being in your body than you are about being in hers."

K exhaled, rubbing his face. "Well, great. So she’s panicking, I’m stuck under the same roof as her dad, and we have no idea how to fix this."

Fuma shrugged. "Pretty much." Then he grinned. "Man, this is hilarious."

K shot him a glare. "Not. Helping."

Fuma stretched, looking way too amused for K’s liking. "Well, since you’re here, you might as well make the most of it."

K frowned. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Fuma smirked. "Go talk to Dad."

K stiffened. "Excuse me?"

Fuma shrugged. "You’ve been dying to know what he really thinks about you, right? Now’s your chance. As Kaori, he’ll actually tell you."

K groaned. "No way. That’s the last thing I need right now."

Fuma rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. You’re stuck like this till the wish plays out anyway. You might as well get something useful out of it."

K hesitated. The thought of facing Kaori’s dad like this was terrifying. But… maybe Fuma had a point.

Still, it didn’t make it any less painful. "This is the worst day of my life."

Fuma grinned. "Nah, this is the funniest day of my life."

K groaned, running a hand down his—Kaori’s—face. "There’s no way I’m doing that."

Fuma sighed, crossing his arms. "You don’t get it, do you?"

K shot him a tired look. "What don’t I get, Fuma?"

Fuma leaned against the wall. "Kaori talks to Dad about you every morning."

K froze. "What?"

Fuma nodded. "Every. Single. Morning. She tries to get him to stop being so harsh on you. Tells him he’s wrong about you, that you make her happy, that she wants to be with you forever."

K’s heart skipped. "She… said that?"

Fuma sighed. "Yeah. And you know what else? She tells him that his attitude doesn’t just make you not want to visit—it makes it hard for her to see the future she wants with you. But she still fights for both of you, every single day."

K felt something tighten in his chest. He always knew Kaori loved him, but hearing this? Knowing how much she fought for them?

Fuma smirked. "So, yeah. You’re terrified of talking to him? Imagine doing it every morning. That’s what my sister does for you."

K swallowed hard.

He had no idea.

K took a deep breath, steadying himself. Kaori did this every morning—stood up for them, faced her dad head-on. If she could do it, then so could he.

"Alright," he said, exhaling slowly. "Where is he?"

Fuma raised an eyebrow. "Where’s who?"

K shot him a look. "Your dad. If Kaori can do this every day, then I can do it too."

Fuma smirked. "Now we’re talking." He pushed off the wall and nodded toward the hallway. "He’s in the living room, reading the news like he always does. Go knock yourself out."

K squared his shoulders, trying to ignore the way his hands felt clammy. "Okay. Let’s do this."

Fuma clapped him on the back. "Good luck. Try not to die."

K rolled his—Kaori’s—eyes and stepped out of the room, heading straight toward the man who had made it very clear he wanted nothing to do with him.

Time to see what Kaori had been fighting for all this time.

K found Kaori’s father exactly where Fuma said he’d be—sitting in the living room, newspaper in hand, coffee on the table.

His heart was pounding, but he clenched his fists, channeling Kaori’s determination. Stepping forward, he took a deep breath and spoke.

"Dad, we need to talk about Yudai."

Kaori’s father didn’t even look surprised. Instead, he folded his newspaper neatly and set it aside. Then, to K’s complete shock, he gestured to the seat across from him.

"Come sit," he said calmly. "I was hoping you’d ask."

K hesitated for a second before moving forward, sitting down. He had expected resistance—cold dismissal, maybe even anger. But this? This was completely unexpected.

He swallowed. "Alright… Let’s talk."

K sat stiffly, half expecting Kaori’s dad to start lecturing him. But instead, the older man sighed, rubbing his temple before looking straight at him.

"I owe Yudai an apology."

K blinked. "…What?"

His brain short-circuited. This was not the conversation he had been expecting. Was he still dreaming? Maybe he hadn’t woken up yet?

"You heard me," Kaori’s dad continued. "I’ve been too harsh, and I know it."

K—who had mentally prepared for a fight—just sat there, staring. "…?"

K sat stiffly, still trying to process the fact that Kaori’s father had just said the words I owe Yudai an apology. But the older man wasn’t done yet.

"I’ve been nothing but harsh to a man who clearly loves my daughter," he admitted, exhaling deeply. "And I did it for all the wrong reasons."

K—who was very much not Kaori—just stared, unable to react.

Her father leaned back, his expression unusually tired. "The first guy you brought home… I liked him. He was good—polite, well-mannered. I thought, ‘This is a man I can trust with my daughter’s heart.’" His voice grew heavy. "Then he broke it."

K felt his stomach drop.

"I’ve never seen you cry like that before," her father continued, looking straight at him—at Kaori. "It shattered me. I swore I’d never let that happen again."

K swallowed hard, gripping Kaori’s skirt under the table.

"So when Yudai came along, I saw him as another threat. I wanted to push him away before he could hurt you." He sighed. "But in doing that, I didn’t realize I was trying to drive away a good man. A man who never once gave up on proving himself to me."

K’s breath hitched.

He had spent years trying to be enough for Kaori’s father. Trying to show him that he wasn’t some reckless guy who would break her heart. And all this time… Kaori had been fighting for him too.

But now, hearing it from the man himself—as Kaori—was completely overwhelming.

K sat there, frozen, as the weight of it all sank in.

K barely had time to react before Kaori’s father reached across the table, gently taking his—Kaori’s—hand in his own.

"Yudai is a good man," he said, his voice steady. "He has an incredibly good heart and soul."

K’s breath caught in his throat.

"And I see now that he is truly the right man for you."

K felt his chest tighten. If he had been in his own body, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep a straight face. But right now, Kaori’s face—his borrowed expression—was probably just as stunned.

Her father squeezed his hand lightly. "If Yudai is willing to give me a chance… I’d like for us to properly talk. To truly introduce ourselves over a family dinner next Sunday."

K could only stare.

"And when we talk," her father continued, "I want to tell him these same things myself."

K swallowed hard.

He had spent years believing that this man would never accept him. That no matter how hard he tried, he would always be the guy who wasn’t good enough for Kaori in her father’s eyes.

But now?

This was real. This was happening.

And somehow, he was experiencing it as Kaori.

K—still in Kaori’s body—felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and forced himself to speak.

"Thank you, Dad."

The words felt strange leaving his mouth, but they carried the weight of both his and Kaori’s emotions.

Her father gave a small, genuine smile. "I should be the one thanking you, sweetheart. And Yudai too."

K nodded, and for the first time in years, he felt like he wasn’t fighting a losing battle.

The next morning, everything felt… normal.

K woke up in his bed, in his body. No long hair, no unfamiliar voice, no Kaori’s father waiting downstairs. Just him.

And yet, something inside him felt different.

The moment he saw Kaori later that day, he didn’t even hesitate. Without a word, he pulled her into a tight hug.

"K…?" Kaori mumbled, confused by the sudden embrace.

He held her even tighter. "Thank you."

She stiffened slightly. "For what?"

He pulled back just enough to look at her. "For always fighting for us. For standing up to your dad every morning, for making sure he knew how much I love you." His voice was thick with emotion. "I never realized just how much you’ve been doing for me. For us."

Kaori blinked, her lips parting in surprise.

K took a deep breath and smiled—genuine, determined. "I want to meet your parents."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

He nodded, his grip on her tightening just slightly. "Yeah. I mean it."

For a moment, Kaori just stared at him, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Then, slowly, her eyes shimmered with something deep and unspoken—hope, relief, maybe even a little disbelief.

And then, she smiled—bright, radiant, and full of love.

UwU that was so nice to write 🥹😭

The urge to write one where they meet Kaori’s dad is real! (I might just do it)

I hope y'all enjoyed it 🥹

Likes and rebloggs are appreciated 🩷 ✨️

[aztarion]

10, 14, and 38 😌

ezra im so sorry i could only cut this down to 1.4k. literally nobody has to read this im insane. but thank you ily <33333

10. Describe their first date.

their relationship begins almost immediately after sol’s embrace sometime in 2000, but in my hc it isn’t until the summer of 2001 that they start going on what could be considered actual dates — you know like moments where they intentionally set aside the time to connect/flirt/explore, beyond their obligations to the Camarilla and finding their footing as Kindred, nailing a routine, plus all that critical initial schooling julian has to impart on sol. everything’s pretty casual and low-key because their financial situation isn’t great at the time and they are literally college age and way into dumb shit. also — fledgling nobodies.

i’m cheating like always and listing three because they touch on different things that i really like about them.. *locks the door with everyone inside*

their first official date is at an arcade in downtown Tucson — a tiny neon-lit haven of boops and beeps and “fuck”’s, open until 2AM. to summarize there is some very competitive air hockey — (did he just celerity that shit to win?) — and some very flirty resident evil co-op. i made them have a slightly more serious back-and-forth playing a racing game because im a freak for allusions and wanted to mirror a conversation that can happen later on in night road depending on choices. finally, they turn in their tickets and julian, true to form, picks out a pair of those hideous green luminescent vampire teeth as one of his prizes second date is not long after that, in the late summer: an all-night rave at a small college town out in the desert. other kindred are present here too. it’s sensory overload, but mostly they’re in their own world. there’s less talking/banter but it’s still fun i think; a little sexier and with visceral rhythm, while attempting a more classically vtm atmosphere. i say that and then at one point they’re out of the way, near strobe lights and julian whips out the glowing green arcade fangs :/ third date is in the late fall, more subdued and i suppose conventionally romantic in comparison to the first two (if blood bags squeezed into soda cans can be romantic), which is when they drive out to and wander on foot up through the grounds of Kitt Peak National Observatory, dodging a couple guards and staff after dark, for a sneaky vampire picnic. this date is quieter and more introspective for both; they talk about sol turning out to be caitiff here and wonder what happened during the embrace, and julian opens up a little about his own sire back in malaysia. it’s a nice one 🙂‍↕️

from then on all the way through to the late 2000s, whenever their camarilla duties and their own hunger were satisfied for the night—or when they had a rare evening free—they’d find ways to carve out moments of connection or intimacy. usually they’d venture into surrounding towns, sneak into late-night movie theatres or catch small gigs on campuses. 

more often though, i imagine their nights ended on the roof of their trailer, desert stretching out around them and the sunrise still hours away. julian would bring his laptop outside, playing music or tinkering with some hack or project. sol would sit beside him, head sometimes resting on his shoulder as they listened to whatever playlist he’d put together. he might show her something ridiculous he found online — a bonkers conspiracy theory forum, a stupid meme, or bc it’s the early 2000s, a video of cats doing backflips or something.

im so staunch in this hc and i think it’s fun because bloodlines’ ‘deb of night’ was inspired by this radio show, but i KNOW julian sim was calling into Coast to Coast AM with Art Bell. that motherfucker was spinning absurd supernatural bullshit with a completely straight face, claiming to be a vampire hunter or a time traveler. he’s sitting there describing in great bogus detail encounters with werewolves and ancient curses and a big desert-dwelling monster that lives under the Sonoran and eats immigrants, which at that sol probably stops laughing to snatch the phone and end the call 😭 ok they make me sick.

also for reference

14. How do their personalities complement each other? How do they clash?

both have kind of intense, passionate personalities in opposite directions so there’s a lot of yinyang-ing imo

julian is big on his vision and ideals with a relentless focus on the future and his work – something which concerns sol. sol is infinitely more introspective and rational, intuitive and emotionally vulnerable of the two — something julian can find overwhelming.

for sol, julian brings more excitement and nuance into her sometimes overly pliant and “sheeple” mindset, and can pull her out of that obnoxious self-sacrificing schtick (get off the cross ladykinssss). likewise, julian tends to get tunnel vision, be callous or unintentionally cruel, and can end up way out of his depth — he benefits from having someone around who will yank him out of his own ass, because despite being the more logical of the two he’s not always thinking reasonably or clearly. this bitch of a neonate just has a whole lot of audacity and plans on top of plans and more plans.

which, yes, julian is good at ideas and putting them into action, and can be charming and funny, is this Machiavellian motherfucker in a gamer chair, but he’s not the most sensitive with emotions and people. sol has superior emotional intelligence and is definitely better at ingratiating herself with others; at being supportive and a chameleon and a mediator; at knowing when to curl up in a palm, and acknowledging/dealing with uglier feelings in general — a big proponent to her being used for 2100X in terms of gently interweaving kindred and kine enough that the Masquerade becomes obsolete — but in these things she struggles to find an identity, place, purpose. julian pushes her to be a little more free, a little more assertive, to have agency and think for herself and to think even bigger than that. which is ironic considering what he did lmfao but he’s basically this:

sol also sees through his bravado and posturing — she’s been there from the beginning — and as much as he dislikes how she can get under his skin with that, it also brings this strange sense of acceptance, stability, understanding and belonging that he often craves (and tries not to acknowledge) and lacks outside of their relationship (especially if you take into consideration what happened between him and his sire).

a lot of their clashing comes from sol being less willing than he is to take big risks, the fact that he has a childish ego and can be emotionally dismissive and manipulative, his hypocrisy and her resentment which kind of festers alongside the love — there’s always this twisted undercurrent of vindictiveness behind sol even when things are light and good between them. but they’re drawn to each other’s contrasting traits too: julian admires sol’s emotional depth and loyalty and ability to soften his focus, while sol admires julian’s drive and confidence.

ultimately, julian’s ambition and big-picture thinking do in fact push sol to take risks and embrace freedom, while sol’s attentive and deliberate nature helps julian stay connected to the present and consider the emotional impact of his and their actions going forward

38. Who is more sexually experimental? Who’s more vanilla?

julian’s the more sexually experimental of the two, while sol would lean slightly more "vanilla"—though with a bunch of exceptions bc she’s open-minded and crazy intense, and there’s a deep bond/emotional connection between them which makes her more adventurous. she is by nature sensual and possessive and will turn intimacy pretty dark depending on her mood, which is overwhelming at times.

julian is curious, unconventional, and thrives on novelty and intellectual stimulation, with a desire to explore and push boundaries, imo that very likely includes sex. sol probably built his confidence and how comfortable he is with it specifically as a vampire a lot in the beginning; she was the one to initiate despite him telling her it wouldn’t feel the same, and she was still eager to continue this aspect of their relationship for the next decade. now he’d be the first to suggest experimenting, wild positions and dynamics, incorporating tech/toys, exploring kinks or fantasies, etc. they both have a tendency to challenge each other too.

julian’s playfulness can bring a lot of fun and excitement and some weird as fuck situations, meanwhile sol’s focus is kind of on grounding the experience, making him present and engaged (she’s never been casual in her unlife)

[moonlightazriel]

Chapter 16: When a friend is in need /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Lucien goes after his family for help, stepping in the Autmun Court for the first time in centuries.

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: The usual angst.

Notes: I thought about not posting this today, since everything that's been happening but I decided to post to bring some joy in between the terrible things that are happening, I hope you guys understand my position. Love u.

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

Lucien held Elain’s hand and she noticed how his palms were sweaty, with a slight shake. She knew he was nervous, coming home after so long, she didn't even know how long it was. But here they were, strolling through the hallways of the Forest House. 

The wooden walls are adorned with centuries of Autumn Court art, orange curtains and the smell of oak. The decorations were picked to complement each other, everything ornate to create a magical atmosphere, but something felt wrong. 

She didn't know if it was the way the servants avoided looking at them, quickly bowing their heads at the sight of the youngest autumn prince or how they immediately ran away from their path. The atmosphere felt tense, like they were afraid of doing the wrong thing and being punished for it. 

But her mate had asked her to join him, he wanted her there, she even dared to think that he needed her there, to ground him and remind him that he had gotten out of that, he wasn't stuck under his father's grip anymore, he was a free male. 

The guards at the double door bowed their heads to him, pushing the doors open to reveal the throne room, Beron sat with a sneer, crown atop his head as he eyed Lucien and Elain up and down. By his side, silently, his mother sat, her eyes litting up with love and longing, her fingers twitched to touch her beautiful son. 

His eyes lingered on his mother for a little while longer, before he turned to his brothers standing by the sides, Eris first as always, being the first born and the heir. Arathorn by his side as the second oldest, Inialos as the middle born and then finally Elissar, the second youngest. Lucien could almost see himself by his side, serious expression and impeccable posture, like they did now. 

“I couldn't believe you would actually have the audacity to show up after that letter “demanding” a meeting!” Beron said and Elain flinched with the look directed to her. “Especially with someone like her, not even a real fae.” 

“I'm not here to talk to you.” Lucien said, ignoring the disgusting tone in his father's voice. “I came here to talk to you, brothers.” He turned to his siblings, they all looked at him with interest. 

“I'm here to ask for your help, we have an enemy in common, Koschei.” He started but Beron scoffed. 

“Koschei is not an enemy, he's here to save us all from someone like Rhysand and his whore of a mate.” Lucien felt Elain squeezing his hand harder. 

“Is that the lie he feeds you, father?” Lucien's stern gaze focused on the male at the throne, how he hated him. 

“It's the truth, and he'll make us powerful again.” Beron said with his chest puffed, confidence filled him. 

“More like kill you all.” Elain replied. 

“What do you know about it?” He barely looked at her.

“Koschei is from a world of demons, they kill and conquer, and do you know what can kill the likes of him?” Her voice didn't falter, she was ready to get them to work together no matter what. 

“What does kill him, dear sister?” Eris spoke, earning a growl from his father, Lucien needed him and he wouldn't fail him, not anymore. 

“Fire.” All of their eyes were on her now.

“Our fire.” Lucien added. “The fire of Celeste Vanserra, the only one who was close enough to kill Koschei.”

“There's no Celeste Vanserra. They are lying and you're too dumb to believe it, Eris. But I shouldn't be surprised.” If looks could kill, Eris would be dead by now. 

“She was my ancestor.” His mother spoke and he basked in the warmth of her voice, he missed her. “They tried to erase her from history, but her name was passed through the females in my family, no one forgot her, Celeste was the fire born, we carry her blood and her power.” 

“Lies!” Beron yelled, rising from his spot. Elain felt her head hurt, her vision getting blurry and her head was filled with visions, from a nearby future, where no autumn court remained, destroyed by Koschei. 

“It will be the end of your lineage, Beron Vanserra, and your own end. Koschei won't stop until he kills every single fae with fire abilities.” She warned, she could see his dead corpse in her head, his sons laying by his side. 

“And what do you want us to do, brother?” Arathorn intervened, stepping forward.

“You need to fight, we need to end Koschei, or else he'll end us.” Lucien begged and his brothers nodded. 

“We'll come with you.” Elissar promised, but Beron laughed, so loud that made Elain's ear hurt. 

“You won't do such a thing, no one will leave this court as Koschei isn't a threat.” He commanded, fear clouded his sons' gazes, they never respected him, but fear has a way to control people, make their bend to their will, but not anymore. 

“Your children will help us if they choose to do so, you won't stop them, or else your end won't come by Koschei’s hand. You will learn why they call me the King slayer.” Elain promised, her irises still white from the vision she had, Beron trembled with the simple promise her words carried, either he got out of the way or he would die. 

“If you go, don't dare coming back.” He threatened but for the first time, this felt more like a blessing than a curse. So one by one, his sons followed to their brother's side. 

“I will fight too.” His mother got up from the throne, walking to stand among her children, Beron was fuming but he wouldn't dare to try anything when his sons could do much worse to him. So he watched in silence as she cupped Lucien's cheek, pulling him in for a long, tight hug, whispered something in his ear and turned to Elain, repeating the motion. “Welcome to the family darling, I promise we are better than this.”

“I know. And I'm glad to be a part of this.” She gestured to the males surrounding her, and Beron sulked into his seat as he watched his wife and kids leave the throne room, leaving him alone and feeling disrespected for the first time in centuries. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The Vanserras gathered around the dining table, the spectre twins serving them plates filled with food. Feyre talked happily with Wendy, lady of the autumn court. Azriel occasionally squeezed Y/N’s thigh under the table, feeling a bit uncomfortable in their presence, after all, centuries old feud between the two courts weren’t easily forgotten over a good meal, but he was happy they decided to help. 

“So…” Eris said, clearing his throat, all the attention drifted to him, the chatter dying down. “What’s the plan we have?” 

“Well, we will free Koschei.” The autumn heirs gasped.

“Do you  think this is the best way of handling this?” Inialos inquired, trying to be as polite as he was taught, not wanting to disrespect a High Lord in his own home. 

“Unfortunately it’s the only way of doing it, that’s where you will shine.” Y/N replied, giving the males an encouraging thumbs up. 

“We need you all to create a fire dome. Once Lucien, Azriel, Y/N and I are inside, nothing can come out. It’s your job to prevent Koschei from getting free and conquering the rest of Prythian.” Nesta said with a smile gracing her beautiful harsh face. 

“And you think we can do it?” Arathorn raised his eyebrow in disbelief. 

“We are the only ones that can do it, we carry the blood and the name of Celeste, we will finish what she started.” Wendy Vanserra guaranteed and her sons looked at their mother, the confidence that they hadn't seen shining in her eyes for centuries was finally back. She was free now and she would never go back to being a slave. 

“Then it’s settled. Let’s kill that bastard.” Eris raised his glass in a sarcastic toast, he was sure they were fucked but if Koschei was half as dangerous as he suspected, using his powers to its fullest was the least of their problems. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Are you okay?” Azriel asked, watching as Y/N sat by the large window in her room. Her eyes distant, her eyebrows scrunched like she was in pain.

“I miss him.” Azriel smiled at that.

“It’s only been two days.” He sat by her side, his thumb tracing the side of her face, along the bumpy patch of skin that formed her scar. 

“We’ve never been apart for so long.” She took a deep breath. “After Asterin, he was my anchor for so long. He had lost his friends just like me, so I couldn't force more suffering upon him. Whenever I was nearing the edge..” An iron nail slided across the skin of her neck and Azriel swallowed harshly at the thought. “He kept me alive.” 

“He is fine, I know that.” He kissed her hand, the one he pulled away from her neck. “Soon you two will be together.” She rested her head against his chest, letting the beatings of his heart soothe her distressed mind. “Let’s go to sleep, we have a busy day tomorrow.” 

Y/N nodded, getting up and following the Shadowsinger towards the bed, allowing him to pull her closer and wrap his arms around her waist, his scent filling her mind. His fingers tracing invisible random patterns on the skin of her hips. 

“Do you think you will ever forget me?” She blurted, not allowing him to answer before she continued. “Cuz no matter the distance between us, how many worlds I travel to, you’re engraved in my heart forever, you saw me, truly saw me when I was afraid of looking at myself, you mended the broken pieces of my soul and made me someone again.” 

“Is this your way of saying goodbye?” He inquired and truly? She didn’t know.

She kept quiet for a while, her mind in a violent battle with her heart. She had to go back, Manon needed her, she had her duties to fulfil, Asterin would be so disappointed if she left it all behind. She couldn’t let Manon down cuz letting Manon down meant letting Asterin’s efforts all go to waste. 

“I don’t know.” Her heart bleeded with that answer, that stupid thing ready to throw it all out for him, her soul claimed for him. If the time ever came, she didn’t know how she would be able to choose. 

“In that case, I'm glad I had this time with you, it's more than i could’ve asked for, thank you for allowing me in your heart.” He kissed her lips with a delicacy that broke her heart just a bit further. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The next day came, Y/N shuffled in bed, feeling more tired than the day before, her body rested but her mind kept awake, frantic thoughts preventing her from actually resting properly, she kept quiet, not wanting to wake Azriel up, she didn’t wanted to face the sadness that clouded his eyes after their conversation last night, too damn coward to face him, to tell him that she loved him more than she had ever loved anyone. Why would she say it, just to break both of their hearts when she eventually went home? She wouldn’t be that cruel.

So she sucked it up, taking a long scalding shower that usually helped her through the day, getting in the Illyrian leathers that were like a second skin to her now, attaching both her sword and cloak behind her back before she stepped out of the bathroom. Azriel is long gone. 

The house was empty, just Nesta sat there, silently sipping tea from a mug, her icy blue eyes moving upwards, following the movements of Y/N sitting down with a sigh. She took in the prominent dark circles and the sadness darkening her gaze.

“Hard night?” The oldest Archeron inquired, getting a shrug as a reply.

“How am I supposed to leave you all behind?” She said, looking far away from the female in front of her, her fork poking a fluff piece of scrambled eggs. 

“You know you don’t need to, you can stay here with us.” Nesta offered and her eyes filled with tears, so heavy that she lowered her head.

“I can’t.” She took a deep breath. “They need me!”

“Do they? Or is that what you tell yourself?” Y/N turned her cold gaze towards Nesta, the female almost flinched with the pain reflected in them.

“I don’t even know at this point. I don’t belong anywhere.” She hiccuped, tears falling down the sides of her cheeks. “I am no one, I’m not important anymore, I keep telling myself that they need me but you’re right, do they? Are they even looking for me?”

“That’s not true, you know?” Nesta slides her hand over the table, opening her fingers, letting her know that she was there for her. “You matter and you are important to us.” 

“I’m sorry I didn't mean to burden you with all of this, it’s just so lonely and suffocating sometimes. I’m sorry.” Nesta felt her placing her hand on top of hers, she grasped it, squeezing it hard.

“Never apologise for your feelings. I’m your friend, I'm here to carry this weight with you.” She smiled at the Archeron, sniffling and looking at her with bright blue eyes.

“I don’t deserve a friend like you, thank you for everything Nesta.” The female smiled back at her.

“You don’t have to thank me, it’s my pleasure to call you my friend.” Nesta gave two light squeezes in her hand. “Let’s go?” Y/N nodded, getting up, her barely eaten breakfast disappearing. 

“Alright.” The two females walked towards the training balcony, everyone was there apart from Cassian, he was with the Illyrian troops, gathering them and transporting them towards the Manor, Jurian was already waiting for them with all they needed to feed an army that big. But if everything went according to the plan, it wouldn’t be longer until they were back to their camps. 

“Good morning ladies.” Elain greeted, waving from Lucien’s side. She was more certain of her abilities of Seer now, she thought that she could help if she was around, Lucien wasn’t very fond of the idea but he would never tell her no. 

“Good morning.” Y/N replied, her eyes landing on the distant figure of Azriel, on the farest corner of the balcony, his shadows darted towards her, wrapping themselves around her ankles and wrists, brushing over her face and making her smile. He watched the exchange in silence.

“Since we’re all here, it’s time to go.” Rhysand warned. They all started to get in small groups, the ones able to winnow carrying those who couldn’t.

She felt the breeze on her face, opening her eyes, Morrigan had winnowed them to the front yard of the Manor, where people walked around, getting settled. Winged warriors in battle gears and sharp swords here and there. 

His loud roar sounded when Meraxes felt her closer, startling everyone around. He had been in a sour mood since she left, she knew that. So she ran, looking for him, finding him near Azriel in the backyard. The shadowsinger petted his nose, pointing towards her with a smile. Y/N threw herself against her wyvern, arms engulfing him in a hug. 

“I missed you.” She said and he growled in agreement, like he was telling her to never be apart from him again. She stood like that for what felt like an eternity, just feeling him, their hearts beating as one. “I need to ask you a favour.” His big eyes opened and he stood still. “You won’t be able to protect me once I’m inside, so please protect Lucien’s brothers, they will be vulnerable and we need them.” Meraxes nodded. “I love you.” He puffed some steam around her body, his way of saying that he loved her too.

“I’ll take care of her, I promise that to you.” Azriel said from behind her, he had stayed silent until now. He was hurt from the idea of losing her, but he understood whatever decision she made, he would accept it and he would still love her with every fibre of his being. Meraxes nodded towards him and pushed Y/N away, making her stumble towards Azriel, collapsing against his chest.

“He respects you.” She said as the two walked inside. 

“Just because we both love you.” She stilled, turning to him, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down for a kiss. It was getting harder to think about leaving him. 

“We need to meet them, get everything planned for tomorrow.” She pulled him towards the dining room. 

“Why are we always the ones saving the world?” Cassian groaned, eyeing the map that displayed the lake and the cabin.

“Because we’re fucking awesome.” Morrigan replied, earning a chuckle from the table. 

“Then this should be easy.” Y/N spoke, getting closer to the table.

“Yeah, let’s get everything sorted.” Rhys silenced the table. “The illyrian troops will hide around in the forest along with the Vanserras.” Devlon and the red haired males nodded in agreement. “Azriel will disguise him and Lucien as Y/N and Nesta’s shadow.” Azriel nodded. “Y/N will pretend to take Nesta to him, and as soon as they’re inside, the dome needs to be up.” 

“It will be.” Eris spoke, earning an approving glare from Rhysand. 

“The monsters will attack as soon as he feels that something is wrong, so pay close attention, cut their heads out, and they will 100% die.” Y/N advised. 

“You already know the words Nesta?” The female nodded, she had been studying the freeing spell from the diary, they hoped it worked. “Then I think we are ready.” They all nodded. 

“You all should rest. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.” Elain kindly advised.

“Just a regular day for us folks.” Azriel said, the inner circle started to laugh. “You should rest.” He said, guiding her upstairs to the room they shared in their stay there. 

“If anything happens tomorrow, I'm glad we had this time.” She said, feeling dread setting in her gut. She couldn’t wait for this nightmare to be over.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

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@acourtofdreamsandshadows

[femmmie]

Dan panics when Phil isn't at home.

I wrote this for @caff3inated-art for the @phandomgiftexchange. I hope you liked this!! It got a bit angstier than I intended but there is also lots of fluff <3

Dan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. It was way too bright, but he'd switched the damn light on himself. He groaned. Or was it more like a whine, uttered by a grown man but not sounding like it. The fifteen hours of Rebirth had done a number on his neck, back, "my pussy and my crack" he started to mumblesing a bit, squinting now. Slowly, Dan came back to life, "back to reality, back to the here and now". He made some more old man, or old twink noises and stretched.

"Phil?"

He didn't hear a reply. A sudden ball of stress formed in his chest.

"PHIL?"

He opened the door of the gaming room. More, unwelcome light flooded in. Dan waded through the sea of aggressive colors and sharpness and the illumination of it all. Where was his Phil...

He checked every room in the Phouse, he checked around the outside. He went to grab his phone, but his pockets were empty.

"Just my luck..."

He headed back to the gaming room, upended all cushions on the couch, found a couple of controllers but not his phone. He was breaking out in cold sweat.

"Where the FUCK is-", he put his hand on a side pocket of his baggy pants and felt the contours of his little doomscrolling device. He heaved a sigh and unlocked the wicked thing.

Dan: where are you?

Phil: getting Indian for after your sesh

Dan let out an enormous sigh. Still he felt winded. And weak in the knees, so he sat down where he'd been creasing the last majority of the day.

Dan: I was having a heart attack

Phil: did you defeat the heart

Dan: no I lost

Phil: Lost

Dan: Sawyer

Phil: sawyer looking at dat ass

Dan: bass

Dan put down his phone. He started to cry. He would never get used to these nervous breakdowns. He'd always had them, but now that his life was giving him so much grace and things were looking up, a deep fear had taken hold of poor old Dan.

"What if..." He would never allow himself to finish the sentence, but his body felt the dread nonetheless. As long as Phil was near, things were mostly okay. But still not quite. Falling off the stage on tour, almost bleeding to death in front of Dan at the hospital and Phil's mysterious vertigo didn't help, though.

Phil was SO dear to Dan. He knew it was too much, and yet, he couldn't help it at all. It physically hurts to love someone that much, especially if you are full of worry about them or are away from them even for a little bit.

Dan tried to distract himself by thinking about how hot Cloud looked on the PS5 but the highly poly face morphed into that Cumberbatchian beauty, deathly pale and real in all its glory, Phil's face. Phil's face.

Dan thought about wiping his tears but he couldn't move just yet. He closed his eyes, gently now.

"Phil is fine."

A deep breath.

"I am fine."

Another breath.

"We're so, fine..."

Dan heard the door. Finally, his body relaxed, and he opened his eyes. He felt exhausted and lay down, the lamp no longer bothering him. He stared right at it.

"Hey," Phil peaked around the corner. He recognized the situation immediately. "Can I sit?"

"Yeah." Dan beckoned him.

Phil gracefully strode across the room in seemingly one step and sat down. His phlonde hair immaculate, his cheeks rosy from the cold outside. His dumb lopsided smile stirring a primal need inside Dan to lock lips with this angelic creature that he loved and hated and loved.

"You okay?"

"Am now."

Phil's smile intensified. "That's good. Sorry I left without telling you, I presumed you were still at it."

"You presumed right, but all of a sudden I could just feel that you weren't there and..." Dan stared into the distance. He sighed.

Phil grabbed Dan's calf and squeezed in reassuringly. But Dan was incredibly ticklish so he reflexively and accidentally kicked Phil in his side.

"OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY" Dan sat up, horrified.

"It's okay," Phil croaked, visibly in pain.

"No, it's not okay, damn, why am I such an idiot?! Like you don't get hurt enough already?"

"What are you talking about?" Phil grinned a bit, still wincing.

"Phil, I... Jesus, come here, I'll rub the spot for you..." Dan put his large hands around Phil's small waist, examining the damage. Phil blushed a bit.

"Phil, I can't- it's like... I don't like seeing you get hurt. In any way. I hate it, even. And here I am, kicking you like some bloodthirsty maniac..."

Phil laughed but winced again.

"Bloodthirsty eh? I don't mind vampire role-play, you know that." Phil winked his stupid perfect dorky wink. It filled Dan with rage and adoration.

"Oh my god, Phil. I'm trying to be serious here..."

"Sorry." Phil put his arm around Dan. "I thought I'd distract you. You were in your mood."

"You did, and I was very much distracted," Dan snorted and leaned against Phil, burrowing his face in those icy colored locks. "Thank you."

Phil wiped Dan's adorable snout. "There. Wanna help me cook?"

"I mean," Dan was back on his bullshit, "I can't not help you because you're a very intelligent man but you have the motor skills of a toddler, and you'd set the kitchen on fire again."

"It wasn't on fire on fire," Phil protested, starting to laugh.

Dan got up but he had to sit back down.

"Ugh, I'm still feeling faint. Let's try that again. Could you- could you assist me?"

Phil gently helped Dan up and guided him to the kitchen, where he sat him down on a stool. He got him a cup of coffee for good measure, because caffeine strangely always seemed to calm Dan down.

Phil hated seeing Dan like this, though. He tried to remind himself that they'd come so far already. It had been so much worse in the past. All the nights he'd talked Dan back from wherever his panicking, tortured mind was driving him.

And the times when Dan shut down. Those were the worst. The emptiness in his stare had been incredibly scary for Phil. Because that wasn't how he knew his Dan.

"Want a cookie with that?"

"Yois."

"Hurr."

"Phunx. You're the best, Phil."

Phil's infatuation with the extremely pretty boy had made place for true love when he learned about Dan's deep, fiery emotions. There was so much more to him than his soft skin and sharp tongue. Dan cared about the world, about people and most of all, and wondrously, about Phil. And he cared fiercely and forcefully and uncontrollably. It was such a magnificent feeling to be on the receiving end of that love, Phil had never known anything like it. Dan didn’t only always have his back, he was his loudest cheerleader with anything Phil ever did. What had Phil done to deserve a love like this? The least he could do in return was to support Dan when he had an episode.

At least, now, they could talk about it.

"How do you feel?"

Dan attempted a brave smirk. "Hmpf, still faint but better. I don't think I'll be much help with cooking, though."

Phil put his hand on Dan's. "You can keep me company then."

Dan smiled weakly but sincerely.

Dan was so beautiful. Maybe more beautiful than before. His laugh lines were Phil's proudest achievements. His eternal bedroom eyes stoking a fire within Phil.

Phil was cooking, Dan doomscrolling and they listened to the FF soundtrack.

"This is nice."

Dan looked up. His posture was terrible but his smile was wide again.

"I'm back."

"Oh Dan!" Phil walked around the counter and gave Dan a big hug. Dan kissed him.

"I love you so much," he whispered in between kisses. "How are you this fucking beautiful, Dan? It's almost unfair." Dan knew he wasn't just talking about his looks. They both blushed.

"Phil, you're everything. The sun, the moon, my angel, my vampire. I am holding you, yet I want you closer. Closer, Phil.

And Phil held his Dan closer.

"Phil?"

"Yes?"

"Promise me something?"

"Of course, anything."

"Would you humor me... and never, ever die?"

Phil loosened the hug so he could look Dan in the eye.

"What's this about?"

"I always worry about you, Phil. And, if you'd promise me... maybe, I'd be less stressed?"

Tears formed in Phil's eyes.

"Dan, of course I promise. I have no plans of dying any time soon."

"You should never die." Dan said defiantly with just enough humor to reassure Phil this was in good fun, but the serious undertone was noted.

Phil recollected himself. "We could add cushions around the tour stage so when I fall off again it won't hurt."

"I love how you just admitted it will definitely happen again," Dan chuckled. He nuzzled Phil and they looked in each other's eyes. The kissed some more.

"Or I can wear a mech suit?"

"Is it bad that I really like your suggestions?"

"It isn't. You caring this much about me makes me want to be the most careful I can be."

"That means a lot."

Dan got up, his legs supporting him again. He took Phil's hand and walked them towards the bedroom.

"I'm going to show you just how much I care, Phil."

[tired-teacher-blog]

Characters : Tattoo artist Aizawa/ Florist fem reader

Featuring : Eri/ Hizashi Yamada/ Nemuri Kayama/ Oboro Shirakumo/ Emi Fukukado

Warnings and Genre : Fluff/ Romance/ Smut and Angst in future chapters/ Multi Chaptered Story

Summary : In a desperate attempt to get closer to the tattoo artist dominating every speck of your brain, you decide to pay him a visit one evening as a client seeking his service. This encounter will prove to be the beginning of something much bigger between you two, but will this new found passion be enough to stand against the difficulties your future holds?

Notes : Loosely inspired by this/ Art below is by the wonderful @/ael-draw who gifted me this gorgeous piece.

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

Chapter Count : Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12

Mature content ahead so please be warned : 18+

_ "You seem.. distracted," he breathlessly utters while peering up at you from between your thighs, "aren't you enjoying this?" and the smirk following suit is an indication of his teasing, and confidence in his skilled tongue.

_ "Wha.. no, no that's not it!" truth be told, his wondrous mouth has always been enough to fog up your brain and renders you a moaning mess, and this time is no different as he has you sitting comfortably in the same chair you sat on months ago when you came for your tattoo, only this time, your skirt is hiked up around your waist and your legs are resting on his shoulders while your panties are discarded somewhere. 

How scandalous.

Here you thought you'd have dinner together between his scheduled appointments, but he had something else entirely in mind.

You aren't worried about someone walking in though, since everyone else is diligently working at the moment, you are however still not over what happened a few weeks ago when he came to visit you at night, all troubled and distraught.

_ "Look at you, swallowing my fingers eagerly." his teasing words are flustering, and his long thick digits are pushing you closer to insanity. He's aware of what he's doing to you, moving them slowly in and out of your fluttering heat, and curling them right at that sweet spot he knows all too well.

His lips are peppering your shaky thighs with soft kisses as his fingers keep spreading you deliciously, and you know that you will certainly not hold out for much longer.

_ "Shouta.. yes, keep going, please." you squeeze your eyes shut and arch off the leather chair while threading your own fingers through his beautiful hair, further messing his already messy bun. 

You are grateful for the blasting music outside of the booth, because everyone would hear your sinful moans otherwise.

His fingers quicken and his mouth envelops your reddened clit, sucking it hungrily and coaxing your release.

Your legs tighten around his neck and your eyes shoot open while shockwaves of pleasure rock you to the core and leave you pulsing in the aftermath of your orgasmic release.

Your throat is dry and your whole body is tingling as you strive to regain your composure, it was wonderful as usual, and for a moment there, you were actually able to forget about what's been bothering you for weeks.

_ "That was.. so good." a dumb smile is splayed across your face as your body is finally relaxed.

_ "I'm glad gorgeous," he replies with a chuckle while lowering your legs carefully, "so, did this help you relax?"

_ "What do you mean?" you're still on cloud nine and your mind is too fuzy to comprehend the meaning behind his words.

_ "No, never mind," he runs a hand through the loose strands framing his handsome face, "I just worry sometimes when you overwhelm yourself with work or other things." and for some reason, it feels as if he regrets his original statement and is trying to make light of the situation, perhaps because he's the one who's been troubled lately, and deep down he knows that it's affecting you in the worst of ways.

He means well though, obviously he does, and you know he's truly worried about you, but somehow you find his words irritating.

How can he act oblivious when he's the reason why you've been a mess lately? If anything, he actually owes you some answers.

Your smile is suddenly replaced with a frown, and you sigh out frustratedly as you carefully stand up on shaky legs and push your way past him in order to fetch your panties, "I should be the one telling you this."

He doesn't reply, and instead keeps his attention on you as he awaits an explanation.

_ "Shouta, isn't there anything you want to tell me?" you ask him calmly, eyes full of longing and a tinge of pain. 

You didn't have to say anything more for him to understand your request, and you just stand there patiently waiting to hear his answer.

He walks up to you, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes looking everywhere but you, and it reminds you of the day he visited your shop for the first time, because that day too, he was shy and a bit awkward, just like he is right now.

_ "It's not a big deal I promise." he feigns a smile as he answers, but you can see right through him, whatever happened that day -a couple of weeks ago- must have been a huge deal and it is clearly still affecting him.

He can deny it all he wants, but he's been distressed lately and it tortures you to witness, and what hurts you even more is that despite it all, he is still the same loving and caring man you've always known, and that night he visited you -a few weeks ago- was the first and only time he allowed himself to be vulnerable around you.

 

He heaves in defeat and you watch with frightened eyes as his head hangs low and his voice comes out, but nothing could ever have prepared you for what he has to say.

_ "Eri, she's.."

Your heart sinks as you're expecting the worst, this is about Eri, but what can it be? Is she ill? Did something bad happen at school? It can't be, you see her all the time and talk to her on the phone almost daily, and she is as bright and cheerful as she's always been, so what is it then?

_ "What about Eri? Shouta tell me quick, please." you grip onto his arms tightly and shake him as your patience was wearing thin already.

_ "Her mom is back, and she wants her."

No really, nothing could ever have prepared you for what he had to say..

_ "How could she.. after all these years." you know all too well that it isn't your place to comment on the subject, this thing in particular does not concern you at all, it is a family matter that has existed way before you even came along, but for God's sake you're unable to contain your anguish.

You know what these two mean to each other, to him, Eri isn't just his daughter, she's his whole life and everything in his existence revolves around her, and to her, he's the only family she has ever known and loved. Nothing's fair about this.

_ "It will be okay, I'm sure it will be fine, yeah." and it's a weird smile he's showing, one you're not used to seeing from him.

who is he even trying to convince? 

_ "But Shouta what about this is fine?"

_ "I have to believe that it is! Or else I'll go insane!" his hands are shaking and his voice is cracking now, as he's barely standing on his own two feet.

He has never been this way in front of you before and it kills you to witness.

You feel useless and hate yourself for triggering him this way, this isn't what he needs..

Oh right.. this isn't what he needs right now, not a reminder of this catastrophe but rather a reassurance, a sliver of hope, a moment to forget. It's precisely why he hasn't told you about it until you've brought it up a bit earlier.

_ "The man who took care of her all by himself for years, who raised her well and gave her all his love, who was both parents, is the same man standing right in front of me," it's all clear now and you know precisely what needs be done as you gently grasp on to his trembling hands, "you know what? It will be fine, Eri belongs with you and no power can change it, and I truly believe that."

He's speechless listening to you speak, lips parted and expression finally relaxing, this is indeed what he's been looking for, just a little peace of mind.

He pulls you to his chest and engulfs you tightly, so tightly in fact that you're left breathless in his strong arms.

His shoulders shake and a stream of hot liquid falls from his face to wet your own as he finally bares his all, and you stand there like a pillar for him to lean on,  listening as he breaks down in your embrace.

To be continued..

[fandomwe1rd0]

Wrote a fanfic based off of a headcanon I have that Rick can't say no to Morty when Morty calls him "Grandpa"

Rick was taking Morty to an alien grocery store, not sure why he needed to drag Morty out of school for something so small, but Morty basically gave up on trying to understand Rick, he probably just needed his human camouflage, someone, to do the shit Rick didn't want to do. Morty scoffed and rolled his eyes. Of course, that's all he was to Rick. Just someone to be his butler, his slave, his human shield, his human cloaking device. How could he forget? Rick was such an amazing grandpa. Morty thought sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Then he caught sight of something, and he ran towards it, awkwardly squeezing past slimy aliens while saying "Excuse me!" He heard Rick saying "Morty! Stay cl-*burp*-ose by me, you little shit!" Morty ignored Rick and kept running when he finally got to see it clearly then he gasped "Holy crap! A new space hyper-realistic gaming console!" Rick went over to Morty and rolled his eyes "We're in space, you can just say gaming console." Morty ran up to it eagerly checking the pricetag, fuck yes! It was the newest version! Morty was wondering when this would come out! He's been waiting so long! But it was really expensive...

Morty bit his lip then quickly glanced over to Rick and put on his best, most innocent-sounding voice "Rickkk uhm..." He fidgeted and gulped, rubbing the back of his neck "Say you wouldn't mind...buying that for me, would you?" Morty asked, pointing over to the gaming console." Rick let out a sigh "How mu-*burp*-ch is it?" Morty mumbled the price "3....ahem...3000 glorpglams..." Rick said "What? Spit it o-*burp*-ut kid, Rick got your tongue?" Morty said it a litte louder now "3000 glorpglams..." Rick blinked "Seriousl-*burp*-y Morty? That's stupi-*burp*-dly expensive. Do you think Grandpa is made of money? You already have o-*burp*-ne of these." Morty whined "B-b-but this is the newest version! It comes with all kinds of new games! A-and they added better graphics, smoother gameplay, and everything! C'mon Rick please?" Rick shook his head "Nope. Morty if I b-*burp*-uy that for your dumb little ass, I'll have to remove some thi-*burp*-ngs from my shopping list. Do you know how much that's going to impede my work?" Morty kept whining "Pleaseeee?" Rick sighed "Morty. I said n-*burp*-o. End of discussion."

Morty sighed, he was thinking for a minute, then had a quick smirk as he got an idea. He lightly tugged on Rick's labcoat, looked up at him with the biggest puppy eyes he could muster and put on his cutest voice, put on his best pout then begged "Please, Grandpa?" He saw Rick visibly twitch at the familial term, his posture suddenly straightening, his eyes widen and his grip on the cart tightening. Rick quickly took a glance at Morty, big mistake, he saw Morty's pout and puppy eyes. Morty then clasped his hands together in a classic begging gesture. Rick let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Mumbling something insulting himself for being weak and calling Morty something along the lines of "Manipulative little shit." then he gestured over, and Morty blinked "Wh-" Then Rick interrupted "Just put it in the c-*burp*-art. Hurry up before I change my mind." Morty held back a smirk, got him! He let out a small "Yes!" and then ran over to the gaming console and put it in the cart. "Thanks, Rick!" Rick rolled his eyes "Yeah, what-*burp*-ever."

[lillyspeakz]

the good I’ll do. pt. 1

a/n: this has been a long time coming huh?! This has been in the works for the past YEAR!!!! fuck Shelby. Anyways !! This is only half of the actually story and it’s about 3k words! So enjoy some lesbian content!

Warnings: lesbians in love but sad, female reader, Wilma is stupid, Wilbur and Wilma are siblings, kinda just a backstory

wc: 3k

OH ALSO! This is beloved softball!wilma!!!

It’s been a while since she’s been back. She hasn’t been in this old small town since she left for college to play softball and major in art. After 4 excruciating years, she finally majored in art and film, and after graduation she got the hell out. She thought college was going to show her something new, give her more opportunities than what she used to have. And it did, but she soon learned that it wasn’t for her. None of it was.

Not the sororities, not the clubs, not the parties, not the cities, none of it. She missed the stables, she missed the dirt roads, she missed her truck. She missed her family cook outs and she missed her brother. She missed you.

Wilma didn’t have a lot of regret throughout her life, but the one thing that she regretted was leaving you and her family. She broke up with you late summer before she left, not wanting to deal with the distance and heartbreak that would follow soon after you both realized it wouldn’t work. Or at least that’s what she thought. After the break up, you lost contact with each other. Her family supported her and her scholarship , but she knew they always wanted her to stay close. Yet she still fled, which she still felt guilty about.

So she graduated, got her degree and fled back home, wanting to be somewhere she knew and go back to the same old thing she loved. Yet she didn’t plan on being bombarded by family and friends as she walked into her childhood home.

“Oh my baby’s finally back!” Diane, Wilma’s mother exclaimed as she held her daughter close.

“I missed you too mom.” Wilma said as she laughed and went to hug her dad.

“Look at you, all grown up. You’re taller than me now! You and your brother!”

“We’ve always been taller than you dad.” Wilma heard her twin say from behind her. Swinging around, she smiled and ran over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Wilbur let out a small ‘oof’ at the added body weight, wrapping his own around her torso and squeezed.

Wilma and Wil were always close, always have been. Yes they fight and yell but they’re siblings, it’s bound to happen. Hell! They spent 9 months in their mothers stomach together, pushing and kicking for room. But they were there for each other, no matter the situation. If either of them got a cut from falling off their bike or tripping on concrete, they’d patch the other up. Needed to pretend to be the other for a test? They have wigs in their lockers and they dress practically the same! Wilma got lonely at college and needed someone other than stuck up rich girls and guys who didn’t appreciate people? Wilbur was on the first plane he could catch.

They loved each other. More than words and actions can express.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Wilbur whispered back as the rocked back and forth, taking in the moment of being with their other half again. “Ok, everyone’s looking at us…”

“Ok ok, you could’ve asked me to stop!” Wilma laughed as she wiped her eyes and smiled at him. He smiles back at her as he shoves her shoulder back and ruffles her already messy hair up.

“Stop crying, we have food and cake for you. Oh! And since you’re back in time, we’re going to the rodeo tonight to kick summer off and you being back! You have your boots still?”

“Duh… I’m not dumb. I love them too much.” Wilma laughed as she pointed to the boots sitting next to her suitcase. Wil had got her a new pair for Christmas and sent them to her, saying how she needed to let people know her roots. She wore the boots almost every day.

Walking into the kitchen she saw a spread of some of her favorite foods and deserts. She almost cried once more when she took a bite of the homemade food and felt how warm and delicious it was, just like how she remembered. Wil teased her for being so sentimental, but he was happy she was back.

Her mom wouldn’t stop smothering her in kisses and her dad showed her where her old truck was and how he fixed it up a bit for her. Wilbur secretly took photos of her hugging the hood of it and sent them to you with the caption, “she’s back!”

You and Wilbur have always been best friends, ever since the swing incident in first grade where he kicked you in the nose and broke it. And that’s how you met Wilma too. You always liked her, but you didn’t start liking her until the end of middle school. You always caught yourself looking at her, laughing at her small antics, and screaming for her when she won a big game. Wil always made fun of you for being her number 1 supporter.

So once you and Wilma started dating, it wasn’t any surprise to anyone, knowing how both of you pinned over each other for so long. Everyone thought you’d get married and live in a little ranch house with a farm, you doing something with music and Wilma becoming a world famous artist who worked from home and a softball coach on the side.

But once you broke up, everyone knew it would break both of you. Of course Wilma did it before she left so people wouldn’t see her in that state, but you stayed. You never left. Everyone saw how devastated you were, how out of place you felt when you were around friends, you didn’t have that light to you anymore.

Wilbur was there for you, the whole time. Telling you that she didn’t want to end it and it was just for the best in her mind. You believed it because he knew her like the back of his hand and you did too. You knew why she did it but didn’t understand why she didn’t talk to you first.

You never lost feelings, always keeping an eye on her accounts and getting updates from Wil every day if you could. You wanted to call her, to tell her you loved her and missed her and wanted her so badly. But you held back, knowing it would only lead you down another rabbit hole. Wil’s updates were enough for then.

But seeing that photo, and seeing that she was here in the same town as you, sent you yearning and nervous. You wanted to see her but what if she didn’t want to see you? What if she wanted to completely avoid you? What if she has a new partner that Wil didn’t tell you about?!

‘Is she coming tonight?’ You replied back after putting a heart on the photo. The three dots made your stomach shift as you waited impatiently for the answer.

‘Yes ma’am. Better put on your best singing voice!’ Wil replied. You shook your head as you smiled. You started singing at the annual rodeo for the beginning of summer your sophomore year with your handy guitar, and you kept going back. People loved it as much as you did. It was the day you and Wilma got together as well, her having come up to you after you were done and kissing you.

You smiled at the memory as you sent Wil the middle finger emoji, suddenly excited for tonight. Grabbing your guitar, you got in your run down car and drove to the center of town where the pavilion was.

-

Wilma was never one for the rodeo. The only reason she went was because her family absolutely adored the time together and the little get away. Plus you were there. Your family ran the event and her family always helped set up and donate things for raffles or just decorations!

The whole event was a week long, filled with singing, dancing, games, and fair rides. Everyone in town and out of town came and had fun. It was known to be the “kick off of the summer”. Your town spends all year, saving and putting on fundraisers to put this on, and it gets better each year.

You and Wilma had your first date at the fair , having played some silly games and going on stomach twisting rides. The last thing you did that night was go to the softball fields, lay in the grass and look at the stars. While of course eating the McDonald’s you both ordered.

It was perfect. All of it was.

That’s why she was nervous to go now. She hasn’t been to one where you too haven’t been next to each other all night, but she guessed there’s a first for everything.

“Do I have to go?” Wilma whined as Wil went through her closet and picked out an outfit for her. Nothing fancy but something that said ‘hey! I’m back!’ according to Wil.

“Yes you do and I don’t care what you say, you aren’t running away from your problems-“

“I’m not-“

“Yes you are. You know they’ll be there, and you’re scared to see them, I get it! I do! But Wilm, they want to see you…” Wil said as he set down a pile of clothes on the bed and looked at her.

Wilma sighed as his words sunk in. You wanted to see her. And she wanted to see you. It was bound to happen sometime soon, so why not now.

Flopping back on the bed, she huffed and looked at Wil. “When do we leave?” She asked as Wil clapped and threw clothes at her.

“That’s my sister! Now look through these and we leave in 45!” Wil yelled before he closed the door.

Wilma groaned as she let her head rest on the cushion beneath her. Her thoughts were full of you and what would happen when you both saw each other. Would you cuss her out? Would you hug her and cry with her? Would you slap her and tell her you hate her?! So many outcomes yet she’d have to wait and see.

Picking up the clothes, she wasn’t disappointed in the clothes her other half chose, knowing her and what she usually liked. Huffing, she picked out simple work jeans with a graphic t-shirt she stole from her dad. She put her boots on and grabbed her hat, it matching her boots thankfully. Her hair was done in French braids and she felt… well she felt like herself again.

As she walked down the steps, she felt like it was a school dance she was going to with the way her mom gasped and all of her family was smiling at her. “Really?”

“What? It’s your first night back, and you look like you, not some stuck up rich kid-“

“William!” The pairs mom hit Wil’s arm as she scoffed at him. Wilma smiled and shook her head, waving them off.

“He’s right mom. It’s nice to be back and dressed in clothes that aren’t too tight.” Wilm smiled at her brother, earning a wink from the man as she walked over towards him, slipping into the space between the couch arm and him.

“Ok, where is your father? I swear he’s worse than you Wilma. Mark! We have to leave!” Diane yelled up the steps as she heard a groan and a ‘hold on’ come from the bathroom.

As they heard the floorboards creek, they all saw the man come down stairs with the cheesiest grin. As he came into view, the group saw his shirt, Wilbur and his mother dying laughing as Wilma hid in embarrassment. The shirt had a picture of a young Wilma on the front in her softball uniform, text that said ‘my daughter’s better than yours’.

Wil nudged her and laughed at her expression. “Don’t worry I have one too. It’s a special occasion today though. Welcome home sister.”

As that was said, they all decided it was a good time to leave, not without Wilma protesting for her dad to take off that ridiculous shirt. As everyone hopped in her dads car, she saw her old truck sitting there. It had been untouched for years and Wilma didn’t even know if it still worked, let alone had gas. But she took her chances.

“Hey dad! Does that beauty still run well?” Wilma asked as her dad looked at the old pick up truck and looked to her with a smile.

“Just fixed her up last week. I knew you’d want to drive her around.” Mark said as he threw the girl the keys, excitement evident on her face as she caught the object and started heading towards the machine. “Full tank of gas and everything. No need to thank me. Oh! I also fixed the aux.”

“Dad you are the absolute best! I love you so much! Wil you comin’?”

“Is that even a question?!” Wil ran over to the car as Diane told the pair to be safe and they’d meet them there. The twins didn’t see it, but both parents were smiling at the pair with love and happiness lacing through every curve. They were happy their babygirl was home, happy that her brother wasn’t alone anymore, knowing how much he missed her even if he didn’t say it. They were happy she was going out again.

And so was she.

-

Pulling up, windows rolled down as Morgan Wallen blasted through the speakers, Wilma turned off the car as Wil hopped out. Sitting in the car for a minute, Wilma took a deep breath as Wil turned back and sighed out. Placing his arms on the window seal, he poked his head in and waited.

“It’s going to be fine Wilms. She misses you. Everyone does. Just have fun. Please, for me and you.” Wil said to his other half as she sighed out again and hopped out of the car. “Hell yes! We’re on baby!” Wil yelled out over the blaring music from the event, wrapping his arm around the girls shoulder, dragging her over to the mass amount of people.

-

As you heard the yell of the familiar voice, you quickly turned around to see the man with his arm around the girl, smiles on both of their faces. Your heart ached as you took her in, taller than before yet everything stayed the same. The same shirt she wore all the time strewn across her torso, tucked into her pants that fit her perfectly, unlike the pants you saw her wear in her post while she was in college, desperately trying to fit in with social standards there. Her laugh sounded so familiar yet distant, haven’t heard it in person besides the videos you’d watch when things got hard. She was familiar yet distant.

Your heart rate picked up as you made eye contact with Wil, a smile on his face as he nodded towards the girl beside him. You quickly turned away, back towards the stage that people were preforming on, hands bunching your dress up as you grounded yourself the best you could. You didn’t think it’d be this hard to see her again, especially after you both had time to think. Yet seeing her here, in a place that was a regular for you both to go to, mess around and be hopelessly in love, made your heart hurt. The millionth time you two were here in the same room, yet the first you weren’t actually together, glued to each others side.

“Hello darling, how are you doing?” Diane come into view, her arms outstretched towards you as you went into her embrace, always loving her hugs. Diane was like your second mother, always spending time with her and talking about random things. She welcomed you into the family with open arms, her mom and yours being friends and always wanting you to marry one of her kids. She still has that wish and voices it, and you do to.

“I’m doing good. Is she ok?” You asked, your nerves higher than before. Diane smiled softly at you as she nodded.

“Yeah she is. She’s happy to be home… why don’t you go talk to her?” The women asked as she pointed at where the girl was as you looked over at her.

As if on time, Wilma turned around and caught eyes with you. Her eyes widening as you kept the contact, her brown ones bringing you a sense of comfort and ease as her expression relaxed. A sad smile made its way to your face as hers did the same.

“Go on love, she wants to see you.” Mark said as he came over, seeing the tension across the room as you broke eye contact with the girl and looked over at the girls adoring parents. You smiled softly at them as you began to walk over, thanking them as you weaves in and out of people.

Wilma silently panicked as you crossed the room, tapping Wil as he turned to see his best friend walking over towards the pair. A smile made its way to his face as he patted the girl on the back, wishing her luck as he walked over to the drink table.

Wilma cursed Wil as you finally stood in front of her, a small smile still on your face as you played with your hands, nerves running all over your body.

Wilma looked down at you as your face was hidden by your hair, looking down at your feet, afraid to make eye contact once again.

“Look at me, dear. Please.” Wilma said softly as she brought her hand to your chin, gently lifting your head up to look at her. At that moment, the next person to cover a song started to play, starting over by Chris Stapleton blaring through the speakers as the guitar rang through the small space.

A small laugh left both of your lips as you looked at each other, comfortable in the space that was now created by the two of you. As you both continued to look at each other, everything came back. All the endless memories you made, how everything ended and how stupid you both were to give up so easily.

“Hi.” You said a small laugh escaping both of you as Wilms hand now cupped your face, rubbing your cheek bone as she smiled down at you.

“Hi.” She said back as she took you in for the first time in forever. “You look amazing. As beautiful as ever.” Her words made a flush come over you as you shook your head and looked down, hiding your face.

Her touch made you feel warm again, like you had been living in the cold for years and now that she’s back, you were finally where you needed to be. As you looked up to tell her everything, spill your guts right there and then for the only women you’ve ever loved and will ever love, someone tapped you on your shoulder. As you spun around, you saw Wil standing behind you, pointing towards the stage.

“Sorry to interrupt but, they need you on stage, like now.” Wil said as you cursed out, squeezing Wilma’s hand that had been on your cheek, excusing yourself as you rushed to the front.

“She’s singing still?” Wilma asked, eyes furrowed as she looked at the man beside her, a smirk being placed on his face as he nodded.

“Yes she is. She said it helps her get through this week since you left.” Wilbur nudged the girl knowingly, seeing a flash of love in her eyes as a smile took over her expression. She remembered how she always expressed how much she wanted you to sing at these, wanting everyone to know how good of a singer her girlfriend was, cheering you on as you smiled at her.

She stood silently with Wil, arms crossed as she watched you walk on the stage, smile on your face as you strummed, making sure the speakers were on correctly.

“Hey y’all! How are we doing tonight?” Everyone cheered around the two, Wil joining in as Wilma laughed and clapped. “Nice! If you haven’t yet, go eat, get drunk and have fun! Now, I have a little bit of a fun song planned, do you guys feel like singin’ n dancin’?” Cheers and the sounds of chairs scrapping across the wood floor from guest standing up were heard all around as the dance floor was flooded with couples and children eager to put their skills to work.

Wil pointed the pairs parents out in the very front, cheering for you on the stage to start, making you laugh. You gave one last look to Wilma and smiled, looking over at the small band you had with you as you started to strum the beginning notes.

As the rest of the band chimed in, everyone cheered and dances were being made as the music continued.

“Heading down south to the land of the pines, I’m thumbing my way into North Caroline. Starin’ up the road and pray to God I see headlights!” You sang, the smile on your face brighter than any sunrise Wilma’s ever seen. As she continued to look at you, her own smile grew as you looked at her once more and kept the stare while singing the chorus.

The song was one of Wilma’s favorites, she’d always play it in car rides or even on the speakers as you spent hours helping her pitch on the softball fields. The melody and words reminder her of how much she loved you and would do anything for you.

Her smile faltered as she remembered all of the thoughts she had after hang outs, how she wanted to marry you and do life with you. But she ruined that opportunity the day she left, which ended up being hell anyways. She wish she listened to you. She wished she listened to everyone telling her to stay and go somewhere near home, but no, she was selfish for all the wrong reasons.

And now she has to make up for it.

As the song ended and the crowd dispersed to take a breather before the next performance, Wilma excused herself from Wil’s side as she made her way across field, stopping at her car as she did. She grabbed her old softball bag, laughing at all the tears and mud splattered across the fabric before grabbing her speaker.

[vibratingskull]

"hi there, i love your work!! i always re read them and giggle to myself lmao. you’re really out here carrying the thrawn fandom on ur back ily!! can i request thrawn x chiss!wife reader who is pregnant? just some soft fluffy stuff?? i feel like thrawn would either be really chill about the pregnancy, or really dumb and just start freaking out about the smallest things hahaha tysm!!!" - anon

For you my dear, fluffy fluff with Thrawn a bit on the spectrum

You're slowly cradling yourself in the rocking chair, making a good work of your needles in the fabric. You decided to do a snowy rabbit this time. Since you took your maternity leave you spend all your time informing yourself on the pregnancy or sewing different plushies and little clothes for your future baby. You have a whole collection now. 

You hear the shuffling of a door, it’s surely Thrawn who came back from his work day. What did he bring back this time?

“Ch’acah, I am here.” He says loud enough to be heard in the whole apartment.

“I’m in the bedroom.” You respond, doing your last stitches.

He appears in his military uniform, a package under the arm as you predicted. You grin, shaking your head. You wait for him to explain. He walks up to you and leaves a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I came across some interesting things.”

“I see that, like every evening for the past two months…”.

You don’t hold that against him, this is how he cares. He reaches for the bag and proudly takes out a rectangular box, you squint to read what is written on it.

“My first… canvas.” You snort, this is so on brand.

“I thought it would be great to help them express themselves through art.”

“You realize they won’t be using it for several years, you’re a bit early for that...”

“Nonsense, infants play with paint of bright colors as soon as they can sit up.” He preaches.

You shake your head with a broad smile. God you love this man. But you’re not dupe: if he buys so much art furniture it’s because he wants to be able to communicate with his child. He already has some difficulties with adults, children as young appear to terrify him. You already saw him hold the baby of a friend and it was not his most glorious moment. He had a freeze moment when you announced to him the news of your pregnancy, before exploding with joyce but you did notice. And then he spent his nights reading and reading about children's communication and psychology like it was an impermeable enigma to him. The elated smile he wore when he announced to you about babies' early interest in artful activities was heartwarming, finally something he could understand. Since then he bought as many artsy toys and activities he could starting by colorful cubes and modeling clay.

You take his hand, and look him in the eyes with tenderness.

“Thrawn, I know you’re scared. I am too. But everything will be alright because we will be together.”

He squeezes it and lowers his head, his thin smile dying.

“I am terrified… What if they don't love me because I can’t meet their needs in some way?” He murmurs.

You shake your head gently, and try to rise up, a bit destabilized by your round stomach. He immediately reaches for you. You pull him in a hug.

“I understand you. But you will surpass it, because you’re the most competent man I know.” 

You take his head in your hands, forcing him to look into your crimson eyes full of confidence.

“I know for a fact that they will love you and be proud of you as a father! You know why? Because nobody loves like you do.”

He puts one hand on yours and and rubs his cheek against it.

“May you be right, ch’acah.”

“I am! I alway am, remember?”

It forces a chuckle out of him.

“Yes.”

You spin on yourself to retrieve the bunny and show him. You smile like a child handing it to him.

“What do you think?” You ask.

He carefully observes the plushie.

“Another one?”

“You have nerve for a man who buys toys each evening. The nursery is full to the brim!”

He smiles.

“It is perfect. I would have loved having it in my youth.”

“I can sew you one now! You would be adorable sleeping with a bunny in your arms!”

He puts down the plushie and wraps his arm around your waist to the best of his abilities.

“Why would I need a plushie when I already have you in my arms?”

He kisses your forehead.

“Vile flatterer.” You grin

“Skillful admirer.” He correct.

You snuggles against him, appreciating his warmth you sigh contentedly. Suddenly you feel pain in your stomach, you lean forward holding your belly.

“Ha!”

“What is wrong ch’acah? Are you in pain?” He asks worriedly

“No, I think…” You pause a second to analyze what just happened “I think they kicked me.”

You take his hand and place it on your belly, sure enough a second kick was given against his palm. You laugh, elated and surprised : it’s their first kick. You look at him with wonders in your eyes. 

He’s shocked.

The eyes wide and at loss for words, he kneels and places his head on your stomach, awaiting, trembling. Another powerful kick. An incredulous laugh escapes him.

“They are strong!”

“They are like you.” You caress his hair.

He kisses your stomach.

“My child.” He hugs your form “I will always be there for you…”

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar

@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss

[wannabe-cartoonist-blog]

finally drawing everybody's animal form after like 4 years into this au. randomly, I started with Touou. (plus bonus hanamiya bc i don't feel like coming up with the rest of kirisaki)

See more art from the AU | read the series (kagakuro main pairing)

Explanation on selections under the cut! plus some fun animal facts!!

Aomine: black jaguar/panther. this is was an easy one, considering its a canon comparison (it's his Animal Instinct). that being said, it really does fit him! a rather lethargic creature, he's often napping in the sun or found lounging around on any free surface, but you sure don't want to get on his bad side.

Momoi: I have an agenda which is to include Momoi as a GoM any chance I get, so I very well couldn't have her as the only non-shifter in the Teiko pack now could I? That being said, it was super hard to place her, but after a little research, I decided to pick a species that highlighted her intelligence (a parrot) and then picked a subspecies that matched her aesthetically. therefore, we have the galah (aka a pink cockatoo). she's a friendly and vocal little bird and can often be seen perching on Kuroko and/or Aomine when shifted.

Sakurai: a more recent epiphany, originally I thought he was going to remain a non-shifter. but after getting a really dumb idea, I decided to double-check to see if there were any creatures that both matched my idea and fit sakurai aesthetically/characteristically. the idea? to check to see what animals consume mushrooms as part of their diet. lo and behold, one such species is the hedgehog, which I happen to think aesthetically matches sakurai pretty perfectly. it was like a little epiphany. sakurai and hedgehogs are both small and round but a little prickly. perfection.

Imayoshi: another character who remained status-less for a long time. however, upon re-watching the series I concluded that Imyaoshi is very snake-like in his expressions. after i decided that, I simply googled black breeds of snakes. eastern rat snakes are non-venomous and are therefor constrictors, who wrap around and squeeze their prey. a slow, drawn out sort of style of killing, which I think matches his conniving, slightly sadistic nature quite well. they are cute little things though and rather non-aggressive towards humans.

Hanamiya: a canon comparison (the spider's web), so he was a character who always had a second-skin when I came up with the au. however, it would be damn right goofy to just have a normal spider try to be threatening in my mind, so I tried to come up with other variants than a simple black widow/whatever the animators drew for the Spider's Web sequence. in the fic, I wrote him to be a goliath birdeater tarantula, the biggest species of arachnid, but upon reflection, I decided that it was quite important to me to keep him as a spider, that way webs would still come into play. so, I sacrificed size and looked into other, more threatening-looking and acting spiders that also spun webs and then I learned about the funnel web spider, a species native to Australia (of course). technically, they more so build spider web nests, as opposed to traditional, airborne webs, but they're fascinating little creatures. look at a close up of them too, quite frightening! they also have some of the biggest fangs relative to their body size amongst their species. they also do threatening little dances where they fan out their limbs and also have venom. their venom is extremely toxic, and can cause severe drops in blood pressure, comas, or in extreme cases, organ failure and death; so if you ever encounter one, be extremely cautious, as they are very aggressive/territorial (I personally hope to never encounter one in my life-time; though they are funnily sassy-seeming in the videos I've seen). males are typically smaller than the females, but I decided to make Hanamiya an exception and have him be on the larger side (the whole species ranges from 1cm-5cm typically) but the largest male on record was 7.9cm (a little over 3 inches)!!