#idk why the dog is there just roll w it

[mortifying-macaroni]

[hearts4court]

A/N: i randomly thought abt this. idk why. also, this is an apology for not writing for awhile, been going through some stuff :p

SORRY IF ITS CORNY > <

Peter Parker X afab!reader.

bf!peter who buys you flowers for events. (grad, birthday, valen. day, easter, anniversaries, etc.)

bf!peter who visits you after his patrols, jumps through your window to bother you. sometimes, if your asleep, he’ll climb into bed ieth you because he missed his princess :(

bf!peter who just loves you so much that during the day, out of school and when he’s on daytime patrol, he’ll just kinda follow you around and watch you. with your friends? he’s watching from a building nearby. By yourself at a coffee spot? he’s still watching you. in your room? still watching.

bf!peter who drops to his knees and begs for forgiveness after missing a date night because of patrolling or stopping a bank robbery. something like that. he’s hugging your legs and begging.

“baby, m’really really sorry. i lost track of time and i just—“Peter tried to say as you huffed and cut him off, very upset because he missed your one month date night,

because of him being spider-man, the two of you have date night at LEAST once a month. To accommodate to both.

but of course, peter forgot. You believed him obviously. The poor boy was all over the place, but you were still upset because he promised not to miss this one, like he did last month.

you huffed,”You always do that. Missing and forgetting our dates like they’re nothing.” you mumble.

“i said i was sorry, i’ll make it up to you. i-i promise.”he said with a pout and puppy dog eyes which ultimately made you kinda feel bad for being mad at him.

“don’t gimme that look.”you whine, crossing your arms as Peter continued to hug your legs on his knees in front of you. He smiled cheekily,”what look?” he asked innocently.

“keep sitting like that and i’m taking a picture to embarrass you to your friends.”you mutter. Peter rolled his eyes playfully, “i have no shame.”he said, still letting his head rest on your knees.

you huff, knowing that. He’s dropped to his knees in front of you at school before. That’s how people discovered that you two were together.

“fine. i forgive you.”you mumble as he smiles brightly. which made your heart melt immediately, but he couldn’t know that,”*don’t get to excited. if you fuck up again, i’m telling your Aunt.”you say making him snicker.

“yes ma’am.”he said, kissing your hands making you smile slightly.

Don’t copy, translate or repost any of my work w/o my permission.

[hyunebunx]

saw the soft thoughts post and i hope i’m not late >.< please forgive my typos or grammatical errors love i just woke up 🥹

soooo imagine a lazy saturday morning with hyunjin where you both just wanted to sleep in and cuddle on your shared bet until late in the morning. apparently you had to force yourself to get up because you were getting hungry and hyunjin—being a clingy boyfriend—is sticking to you like glue, and be like “noooooo don’t go!!!” because he doesn’t want to get out of bed but you had to drag him up. he became a pouty baby while being clingyyyy maybe a backhug when you were cooking, a stolen kiss when you were about to eat, helping you wash the dishes but he put some soap bubbles on the tip of your nose, asked you to go out and the spend the rest of the day with him outside maybe stroll around the city, an art museum date, go to a café and watch him sketch/paint you~

ughh to be loved by an artist bro i’m still half asleep so i hope i’m making sense... anyway have a good one deni ! 😽🩷

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff and a loooot of kissing, you've been warned lol

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: my love <3 this is the cutest idea ever!! thank you so so much for trusting me to write it hehe <3 listen, this got quite steamy in the middle, idk what happened i blacked out fgsdgkj can't help myself when it comes to this man apparently. anywayss, hope you'll enjoy it <333

Mornings spent sleeping in with the love of your life, all cuddle up and intertwined, were truly your absolute favorite, a blessing you didn’t take for granted. You were both busy people, with busy lives that accommodated one another like it was the most natural thing in the world, fitting together like the last two pieces needed to complete the puzzle which revealed your love story.

Hyunjin was a heavy sleeper, clinging to every thread, no matter how thin, that transported him to dreamland to rest a little more. Just five more minutes, that turned into ten, fifteen, which ended up stretching into half an hour on good days. On the bad ones, when he was more tired than usual, nothing could get Hyunjin out of bed before the afternoon rolled around. You understood – he needed his rest – but it didn’t make missing him and his bright smile any easier.

You never knew you could miss someone even while they were dozing off next to you, blissfully unaware of how your heart almost jumped out of your chest to slip under his shirt just to feel his beating, desperately searching for confirmation he felt the same. And he did, of course he did, how could he not when your name and sweet face were constantly spinning around in his mind like some sort of live wallpaper, making him unable to concentrate even on simple tasks?

Though right now, neither of you was sleeping, cuddling to Hyunjin’s chest with one leg over his lap as you caught him up on the latest work gossip. You’ve been awake for almost two hours now and for once, the universe seemed to be on your side as no sunray managed to peek through the small crack left in the curtains, allowing you to continue lying around in peace.

“Anyway, so the printer caught on fire and that was Kim’s last straw. She threw all the papers on the floor and then proceeded to plop down on them and cry. I felt so bad.”

Despite his empathetic nature, Hyunjin lets out a short laugh, voice still husky and laced with sleep as his fingers tangled in your hair. “How did she even manage to do that?”

“It wasn’t her fault.” You yawn, hiding your face in his chest briefly. “Jay used the printer last to scan pictures of his cat’s toe beans and I guess some fur got stuck in there and ruined everything.”

He slowly shakes his head, whistling. “See, that’s why I’m a dog person.”

Prompting your chin on his chest, you look at him with raised eyebrows. “Ok Mr. meows at cats because he wants to get into their good graces.”

“That was one time!”

You giggle and he joins soon after, staring deeply into your eyes until the laughter dies down and every thought leaves your mind like it wasn’t even there to begin with. Dark eyes dart between yours and your lips, subconsciously licking his plush bottom one and telling you exactly where his train of thought has stopped. Patience was not one of Hyunjin’s virtues, so the hand in your hair moves lower to cup the back of your neck, bringing you closer as you quickly adjust, both hands sprawling on his chest to help you lean down and finally connect your lips.

The kiss is slow, lips merging perfectly as neither of you is in any rush, content to take the time to taste each other. However, it quickly gets messy, tongues meeting and complicating the familiar dance, making it hot and breathy but oh so delicious. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit you’ve been waiting for this ever since he woke up, constantly thinking about his rosy lips and driving yourself crazy as whatever he was saying faded in and out of hazy memory.

Hyunjin kissed you like no other, like kissing was an art he invented just to practice on you. One he managed to master throughout the years of your relationship but couldn’t get enough of, obsessed with the idea of improving and finding another unexplored corner he could take over and claim as his own.

A cold hand slides easily under your top, gripping at your waist in an effort to bring you closer, almost causing your arms to give out. You break away from the kiss and Hyunjin whines, displeased but still helps you settle on top of him more comfortably, guiding your body as you straddle his hips.

This new position allows for better access to what you’re both desiring, with Hyunjin wasting no more time in bringing you back down again, capturing your lips. With both hands on exposed thighs, the shirt he gave you to sleep in barely covering anything, Hyunjin loses himself in the taste of you, licking into your mouth and lightly biting on your bottom lip as your hands move lower over his stomach, needing to discard him of the annoying clothing.

You make to pull away but his lips follow, causing him to sit up and move one of his hands on the small of your back for support, not allowing you to slip away from him. With a mind of their own, your hands quickly abandon his shirt and move around his shoulders, meeting at his nape to deepen the kiss and lick at his bottom lip which he appreciates by the groan he lets out.

You feel him everywhere, hands groping and squeezing every bit of your body in the exact way he knew you loved, turning you to putty into his hold. By now, his dark hair is a mess from all the pulling – your fingers needed something to anchor onto.

“Hyun.” You inhale deeply, his lips moving down your jaw, restless.

“Yeah, baby?” He mumbles, barely hearing you.

“Breakfast.” You gasp out as he lightly bites the skin, quick to soothe it with his tongue. “I’m hungry.” Mostly true, you’ve been lying here for hours after all, who wouldn’t be hungry? But also because you knew if you didn’t stop him now, neither of you would get to eat anything before dinner time rolls around.

Hyunjin pauses, hot breath fanning your neck as he slowly tilts his head to look at you, his wet and swollen lips distracting. He’s speechless for a moment, almost like he can’t believe you interrupted him, like a child whose favorite toy is abruptly taken away. When it clicks in his head you are actually serious, Hyunjin barely registers the way you peck his lips as he rolls his eyes.

“Wow, ok connoisseur of romance. What a way to ruin the moment.”

You giggle as he gently lays you down on your back, knowing he could never be truly upset, no matter what kind of stunt you pull. He was most likely thankful you said something, surely hungry himself.

Scooting towards the end of the bed, your feet barely get to touch the hardwood floor before Hyunjin’s arms circle your middle once again, pulling you to his warm chest without a word.

“No, don’t go!” He whines, burring his head in your shoulder in protest.

Your heart squeezes in your chest, pounding from all the love you carried for your other half, the man you couldn’t imagine life without.

“Baby.” You coo, softly running your fingers over his hands on your stomach in a way to coax him. “How am I supposed to cook us breakfast otherwise?”

Hyunjin sighs, squeezing you to his chest for two more heartbeats before releasing his hold and allowing you to stand up. When you turn to face him, one of his big hands has already brought yours to his lips to plant a feather like kiss on your knuckles.

“Don’t go without me.” He mumbles, pouting slightly, and you almost explode like a piñata, staining him with your love and adoration that will surely trap him in this apartment for days trying to get it out. Not like he’d ever mind if that were possible, proudly showing off and talking about your feelings for him to anyone who’d listen, right after talking their ear off about the love he holds for you.

So, that morning, you waddle together to the kitchen like two penguins with Hyunjin refusing to stop hugging you from behind even when you started cooking. And after that, spoon feeding you on the counter and forgetting all about his needs until you threatened to take away his cuddles.

He caved in immediately.

[gamblersdoll]

hihi! idk if you’ve done smth like this , if not could u write like apologetic typa sex w denki after he fucks up or smth, like if he reaalllyy pisses u off and you wont speak to him

js a random thought i had😭😭

ooouuu anon i like you, have a cupcake!

“please, ma— just talk to me!” hes been devastated for about a week, knowing he shouldnt had added someone. it wasn’t a girl, but it was definitely someone who had the hots for him. and knowing denki? he could pull anyone he wanted. “i said i was sorry!”

“and i said i was mad, you know better, you barely short circuit anymore.” you remind him for the eleventh time in person. you had approximately six hundred and fourteen messages from him alone, maybe he was remorseful. “hitoshi is literally the college manwhore, so why did you add him back?”

“i dunno okay? i was just being nice!”

“and where does ‘bein nice’ get you? dead in a ditch, a kid, or some kind of disease.” you remind him one of your golden rules, being nice didn’t necessarily mean you get that back. “you might as well have texted hitoshi, since you wanna be so nice.”

what you dont necessarily expect is him to stop you in your tracks— in your own apartment, to get on his knees and bow to you. “boy, what the hell—“

“please,” he starts, his head low and he looks back up to you, puppy dog eyed. “ill let you do anything you want, whatever you want, ill be some toy or something even if you want to use me— just please, talk to me! ill make everything right again, please mama.”

“stop with all of the little pecks, you know better.” you pull his hair, showing his forehead and he nods.

“yes maam.”

you finally let go of your vice grip, his head going back down and you roll your eyes in pleasure. he finally realized what kind of timing you were on, and fuck, did he love it when you get mad. “yer squeezing my— fi-fingers, baby..” he says, “god, youre so tight..”

“less talking, more eating.” you remind, shoving his face in between your folds. “there you go.. did you just want to get used? is that what it was?” you ask, biting your knuckle to keep a moan in. “thats it.. use your tongue, baby.”

“so sorry..” he moans with your enlarged clit in his mouth. “sorry i followed him back..” he looked cute, his eyes heavy with lust and having your arousal up to his eyebrows. “ohmygoddd— you taste so good when you hate me..”

“such a dirty boy..” you moan, feeling his tongue lick up to your throat and his fingers press past your ring of muscle. “fuck— baby youll make me come already doin that..”

“the least i could do right..? fuckk—“ he moans with you, thrusting his fingers inside along with his hips. he was weird, pressing his hand against his groin and thrusting his fingers inside as if a cock. “forgive me, pleaaasee?” he draws out the moan, along with his thrusts.

“forgive you, baby— fuck, im comin!” he squeal, kissing his jaw and he licks at your cheek trying to catch your lips.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Bloody Cuddles | Cassian x Reader

Day 16: No one else to Turn to w/ Cassian

Summary: Cassian has no where else to go except to you when he shows up at your door in the middle of the night, beaten and bloodied.

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: blood, bruises, mentions of swords, stitches, partially naked man, cuddling

A/N: honestly idk what’s happening in this one, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

It was past midnight when he showed up.

You’d already changed into a t-shirt and shorts, sleeping clothes in your opinion, dishes, and laundry done and put up, stomach full of what you’d had for dinner, house warm and cozy, fending off the chill of Autumn Court that tended to roll in during the night. Your magic usually helped keep you warm, anyway.

You’d been just about to crawl into bed when a heavy knock on your door sounded, your dog jolting to his feet, slim ears perked up as he let out a low growl.

“Quiet,”

You murmured, hand smoothing over his short, silky fur, trying to soothe him as you walked over to the door, opening it half an inch and peeking out, trying to slam it shut when you saw who it was.

His gloved hand, bloodied gloved hand, slid between the crack, not letting the door shut. He didn’t even grunt when it slammed down on his palm, siphon not flickering a bit as it was also squished between the wooden door and doorframe.

Your dog growled, clearly not happy with the Illyrian behind the door, or the way your scent soured.

Just as you were about to hiss out for him to leave, he spoke.

“Look, I don't want to be here, I just don’t have anywhere else to go. One night. That’s all I'm asking for.”

Something in his voice struck a chord in you. Maybe it was the gravelly tone carrying the weight of exhaustion and something else, something further, or maybe it was just the way he wasn’t teasing or prodding you like usual. Still, you would have fun with this.

“Why? Did your precious Inner Circle finally grow bored of you?”

You taunted, waiting for the usual snapback, expecting him to at least try to insult you or your family. Anything, really, other than the heavy sigh you heard from the other side of the door.

“I fucked up. Bad.”

His voice was rough with emotion, growing thicker with each word. He sounded vaguely like he was about to cry.

You glanced down at your dog. He’d stopped growling. You and the animal shared a long glance before he huffed and walked off to curl up in his bed. He’d made up his mind, you supposed.

You opened the door, and there he was.

He was still in his fighting leathers, looking torn up. Forming bruises coated his body, some turning purple and yellow, a few even green, while blood coated his knuckles and drooped from his nose, eyes bloodshot and flickering from exhaustion. Every breath sounded wheezy and more like he was about to heave.

His eyes looked vacant.

You scowled, but the little gleam of worry in your eye was unmistakable as you stepped back, letting him in. As soon as he was in, he walked over to the kitchen and collapsed into a chair, looking like he was about to fall asleep.

“Oh, no you don’t. You’re getting blood all over my kitchen.”

You hissed, and he gave you a flat look.

“I don’t care.”

He replied, and you huffed, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him over to the bathroom, except for the fact that he refused to move, simply sitting in the chair while you pulled your hardest. After a few moments of watching you, he finally took mercy on you, getting up and stumbling over to your small bathroom, collapsing onto the toilet.

You pulled out a little emergency first-aid kit from under the sink that hadn’t been used in at least a century, popping it open, before grabbing a towel from the cabinet and wetting it, raising a brow at Cassian while he sat motionless on the toilet seat.

“What?”

He asked, and you gave him a look that was questioning his intelligence.

“To clean your injuries, I’m going to need to see them.”

You spoke slowly as if talking to a small child, and he exhaled through his nose, clearly annoyed, but he shifted and pulled his shirt off regardless, pants following, leaving him in just a pair of boxers.

You tried not to let your gaze wander as you pressed the damp section of the towel to a large slice across his abdomen, one that would probably require stitches, even with his Illyrian healing. It was a wound from a sword, clearly.

“Who’d you piss off to get this?”

You asked, keeping your tone purposefully detached, almost bored. He only grunted, probably in discomfort, as you padded the blood away.

“Rhys.”

He eventually admitted, and you let out a snort at that, placing the towel aside and picking up the needle and thread from the first-aid kit, threading the eye of the needle while replying.

“I’m guessing you did something to Feyre?”

He stiffened slightly as you let the needle puncture his skin, beginning the stitches, but didn’t reply. It seemed he was done talking about it. You would probably just pester him more in the morning when he was in a better mood and get it all out of him then, anyway.

A few quiet minutes later, and the stitching was done, the bloody towel being thrown into the bathtub as you closed the kit, putting it back under the sink where it stayed.

He went to grab his leathers, presumably to put them back on, when you shook your head, swatting the clothing out of his hands into the bathtub as well. It could be washed later. Not now, when it was too late into the night anyway.

“You can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

You said blandly, walking over to your bedroom, not bothering to give him any directions as you slid into your bed, pulling the cold blankets over you, palms warming with a spark of magic as the room’s temperature increased within mere moments.

You closed your eyes and were out like a light.

~

It must’ve been hours later when you woke up, the sun still not peeking out from your blinds, the night sky still twinkling.

You tried to turn, the spot where your head was laid a bit too warm for your taste, only to realize that you couldn’t move. Mainly because of a pair of warm arms wrapped around you. And the owner of those arms dozing off while wrapped around you, limbs entangled.

You huffed in annoyance, trying to push him off, only for him to grumble and let out a sleepy grunt.

“Get off-!”

You half whispered, half yelled, and he grunted again.

“G’ back to sleep.”

He mumbled, eyes screwing shut until his body relaxed again, and he was out like a light.

And so you were stuck with a big Illyrian oaf cuddling you in the middle of the night.

As you sighed, slowly settling and drifting back off to sleep, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t so bad.

Tags:

@hawke1917

@angstober

@fourthwing4ever

[corvidcrossbow]

would you maybe write some daryl fluff? maybe reader is carols adopted daughter (20ish years old)

daryl comforting reader after henry and how carol acted in the tunnel? maybe r sees carol taking pills n stuff. idk just daryl maybe talking to carol “what about her? henry’s gone but she’s still here!” just daryl sticking up for reader and hugging her n looking after her while carols off.

~•♡•~ What One Has

➳ Summary: Following the Savior war, Carol took you and Henry in as her adoptive children. But through the events of the Whisperer war, your relationship with her became sort of estranged; at least you had Daryl looking out for you (Daryl + Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Post Whisperer war, around 10x18 + 10x21

➳ Word count: 1.9k

➳ C/W: Mentions of pike scene

➳ A/N: Ima be so fr, I struggled writing this, I think because I wasn't quite sure what direction I wanted to go but I needa stop sittin on this n I hope you like it nonetheless anon 😭🫶 Hopefully now that opening day at my job has passed I can refocus on writing (and hopefully we never have a day like that ever again cuz someone dropping and coding in front of me was not in any of my expectations 🗿)

Daryl groaned an exhale and shifted in his blankets, rolling over onto his back with a clenched fist resting on his forehead. Darkness shrouded his room in the basement, Dog curled up close to him no matter how many times he tried to ward the canine off from dirtying the plush couch by sleeping on it too.

Despite the threat of the Whisperers eliminated, and what he could only hope would be some time for rest, he didn't rest. Sleeping never proved easier no matter how many times a conflict was eased: he knew more would always follow. Especially now, where the repercussions of Alpha and her actions were so grave it shook foundations he'd prayed would stay stable.

The archer threw back his covers, picking himself from the makeshift bed and finding a shirt he'd earlier thrown aside, and a pack of cigarettes set on the edge of his workbench. He tisked at Dog, instructing him to stay while he quietly existed from the cellar, carefully ascended the stairs and opened the front door to head outside and smoke.

Closing it and throwing his head back to clear the messied hair from his face, he paused at the figure already occupying the right side of the steps. In the faint glow of moonlight, he recognized you despite your hunched posture, seemingly trying to obscure yourself.

“Why ya out ‘ere?”

“Same reason you are.”

It was a rhetorical question, really. He knew why, who this was about. It wasn't the first time he'd found you awake in the night as he was, having become an increasing commonality over the past 10 months since you moved here, and increasingly concerning.

Daryl stuffed the pack away in his pocket, coming to sit near you on the opposite end of the step, propping his elbows on his thighs. “Ya won’ talk ‘bout it?”

“It's not really gonna make a difference,” You replied, head bowed to stare at the wooden planks in front of you, twisting a loose thread you'd plucked from your jeans between your fingers.

“Could. Least yer not carryin’ it by yerself,” He tried to persuade you. Although he was guilty of doing it himself, his conscience didn't sit well with knowing those close to him were lost in their own minds like he so often was. Especially you, who he not only cared about, but had cared for. “C'mon, ‘m listening.”

You heaved an uneasy sigh, reluctantly accepting that he was right. He felt like the only person you had at this point. “I miss her.”

Daryl's head turned a bit so his gaze could flick to you then shifted back, nodding – more to himself – understandingly.

“And it's so weird because she's, what… 30 feet away from me right now? Maybe less? But she feels even further than she did when she just up and left to go on that boat.” You paused for a moment, coaching yourself through your breaths and not allowing them to grow erratic. “I thought, maybe after everything at the tower, she'd warm back up to me again. But I feel like the… thing, wore her raw, and then the blizzard froze her so solid she won't thaw back out.”

The man stayed silent, taking in your every word but knowing to speak now would halt the tracing of your thoughts; hinder you from fully opening up.

“Does she think because I'm grown it doesn't have a major effect on me? Henry wasn't just her son, he was like my brother. Families are supposed to be there for each other when you lose someone– and, and then I almost lost her too. I mean, you remember all the pills; how she never left her room. I could hear her some nights, just talking to herself. She was talking to something that wasn't real more than she talked to me!”

Now you were struggling, that choking feeling tightened around your throat and broke some of your words, mask slipping as the weight of everything started to collapse in on you just like– “And the cave. I… I'd never been more scared in my life, being in there with you guys. There's so many times I thought I was gonna die but nothing scared me like that. I still hear all the walkers sometimes, how she screamed, the sound of that dynamite going off. I still feel like I'm coated in dust just–... What was she thinking? I was right next to her. It's like I was invisible, or erased from her memory, and all she remembers is Henry.”

Daryl pulled you to him before you'd even realized you were crying, holding your stiff body against his, and through a few sobs, feeling you relax and give in. His strong arm wrapped around you was the most secure you'd felt in a long time.

“Shhh… s'alrigh’. ‘M ‘ere.” Soothing words were few and simple, but they were what you needed; the reminder that someone saw you, remembered you, and took account for your feelings in all of this.

You scooted closer to him, further tucking your head into his chest as if you were trying to finally find a moment of peace by escaping into his embrace. Daryl rubbed his palm over your shoulder, doing nothing but just being there for you.

A moment passed and you recomposed yourself to some extent, shuffling away with a sniffle while he loosened the hug. His eyes caught yours for just a second, seeing so much of himself reflected in your irises.

“Sorry, didn't mean to…” You trailed off while rubbing your face with the back of your hand, ridding the salty streaks from your skin and gesturing. You turned away, embarrassed from your venting and finding it hard to face him.

“Don't. Whole point'ah talkin’ is so ya ain't bottlin’ allat to yerself.” He quieted again, casting his gaze to you then up to the sky as he fidgeted with his hands. “Had a brother too; from before. Was an asshole, but still ma brother.”

You perked up a little, following his line of sight to the black above you. “What happened?..”

“Wa'salways gettin’ stuck with tha wrong people; last time jus’ cost ‘em. Happened bouta year into this; had tah put ‘em down mahself.”

“I'm sorry…” You swallowed and unsurely nibbled on the gummy flesh of your cheek. Was there ever really a right way to respond to that kind of thing?

“Ts'fine, long time ago. Point is I get how it is tah lose family like tha’, ‘nd ‘ll always listen when ya need it. Ya got me.”

“Thank you… for everything; bein’ there every time you already have. I really appreciate it, Daryl.” Truthfully, you'd flat out needed it. He'd remained a constant when all else altered. “I just don't know what to do anymore. Dad's been so distant too, and if I'm gonna lose him to cancer... I'll need her there for that.”

You licked your lips, taking a shaky inhale and biting your tongue a bit. “Sometimes I feel like all she sees when she looks at me is my head on a pike too.”

Daryl's jaw tensed, fearing you'd confess something like that. “‘Ll talk to ‘er.”

“No, you don't have to do that. I know you two are already–”

“Nah. ‘M gonna. Ya shouldn't ever think somethin’ like tha’. She still cares ‘bout ya: ts'jus’ hard for ‘er, been through a lot.” He gave a gentle squeeze to your shoulder before removing his hand. “She loves ya. Get sum rest.”

You nodded faintly, taking another breath to gather yourself and lifting from the spot to retreat inside, leaving the man to his own solemn nature.

❥-》》—————➣

Daryl often wondered if some things were worth it, this included; begrudgingly agreeing to let Carol tag along with him on what was meant to be a hunt, yet tracing paths back to that long abandoned cabin he would've preferred to add ‘forgotten’ in the title of.

He damned Dog for leading him back there, but figured something was going to push out the full story regarding how he spent all those years in the forest – and at least it opened the conversation for more important ones that needed to be had.

It wasn't ideal; borderline arguing with the woman he'd so casually dubbed his ‘best friend’, who'd been there when he needed her and vice versa. It hurt, but it wasn't all she hurt him for, and he was far from the only one she did.

“I'm sorry for Connie,” She spoke, head bowed and pursing her lips to shove back the tears that gathered in her waterlines. “But I'm not sorry for going after the horde and I'm not sorry for making Alpha pay for killing Henry because I was right.”

“‘Nd tha's all tha’ matters; you bein’ right, huh?” Daryl angled to look at her, keeping his forearm braced against the wooden post. She questioned the depth of his motivations, and he shook his head disapprovingly.

“Ts'ain't all about ‘em, ‘ts barely ‘bout me. ‘Ts ‘bout'cher damn kid; tha one ya still got.” They met eyes for a moment before hers shot away, shamefully avoiding the confrontation. “Ya think ‘bout ‘er in all this? Tha’ what you lost, she lost too? Ya know feels like she lost you? Tha’ she don’ sleep much anymore, misses you like yer already gone, ‘cause ya might as well be … Ya still have ‘er, ‘ts sum’thin’ we can't say fer a lotta people, so quit actin’ like ya don't.”

A painful silence settled, clawing at the both of them as he pivoted away and focused out the dirtied glass plane ahead of him. The archer bit back further words, part of him regretting the harshness of such even though it felt required.

“Ya shouldn'tah come.”; brought Carol's sharper attention back, sparking meaner accusations and disclosures between them – predominantly on Daryl's part – regarding their situations.

She turned around, drifting fingertips over the structuring of the cabin's foundation and sniffling before muttering a few things more and trailing into the other room.

Tension hung heavy enough to keep it mostly quiet, even as they later parted ways while returning to Alexandria, forced through seeming trials; Daryl with his motorcycle, and Carol while attempting to cook.

Once he finally got that damn bike working and rode home, he stifled a chuckle at how the silver-haired woman stood there, disheveled appearance matching his own. The man appreciatively declined her offer for soup, exhausted from his troubles and preferring to just go lay down with Dog.

He followed the shepherd round the house to enter through the front door, watching the cheerful wagging of his tail as he padded across the hardwood and down steps to the basement.

Daryl readjusted his crossbows strap around his shoulder, brushing back his hair before descending. He picked up Carol's voice in the distance, sequenced by yours, and paused to shift his vision for just a quick glance; you perched against the kitchen counter, bowls on the surface, and for the first time in a while, a genuine smile on your face as the older woman came up beside you.

His own tugged the slightest bit at one side of his mouth, satisfied with the apparent reconnecting. He continued his action, setting his things down in his room before partially undressing and flopping back on that couch.

Even if his relationship with Carol remained rocky, granting some stability to yours was enough for him. That was worth it.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[atinyjules]

Bad Dog? Ft. Hybrid!Nicholas

A/n: I have an obsession with andteam these days. I mean, I always have, but we'll. It's super evident recently. Idk Nicholas just screams doberman or were werecat 🥹✨️

Here it iss

Genre: Fluff, angst, hybrid au, humour

Pairings: Nicholas x fem reader (oc but name not mentioned)

Warnings: None really

The hybrid centre smelled like cheap air freshener and broken promises. You stood at the front desk, arms crossed, listening to the owner—a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and an even more receding sense of honesty—explain why the hybrid you had already booked and paid for was… gone.

"I know this is inconvenient," he said with a practised, customer-service smile that screamed, 'Trust me, I’m lying', "but the tiger hybrid, uh, ran away last night. Must've slipped right past security. Real shame."

You squinted. "A tiger hybrid? Just vanished?

The owner nodded too quickly. "Yup. It happens all the time."

"Psst."

You blinked. "What?"

The owner stiffened. "What?"

"Psst. Down here," the voice whispered again.

You glanced toward the holding cells, and that’s when you saw him—Nicholas. His nameplate was bolted onto the thick metal bars, which immediately made you suspicious. The hybrid centre’s website had promised bright, open living spaces for their hybrids. Not… this.

Nicholas lounged lazily against the bars, amber eyes gleaming with amusement. His cropped Doberman ears flicked, and his tail gave a single lazy wag.

"Why is he in a cell?" you asked, side-eyeing the owner.

The man chuckled nervously. "Ah, well, he's a bit of a troublemaker. Doesn't get along well with others."

Nicholas sat up. "Heyyy—" He paused. Thought about it. Then shrugged. "Actually, that is true. I bite them."

The owner pointed at him, exasperated. "See?! This is why he’s in a cell!"

Nicholas rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. They deserved it." Then he turned back to you, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "By the way, that tiger hybrid? He didn’t run away. This guy sold him to someone else ‘cause they offered more money."

Your gaze snapped to the owner. He went stiff as a board.

"T-That’s ridiculous!" he stammered, tugging at his collar like it was choking him. "He’s just saying things—he bites people! You can’t trust him!"

You crossed your arms. "You promised a comfortable life for hybrids. But he's literally behind bars."

The owner let out a weak laugh. "W-Well, it's for his own safety! And others'!"

Nicholas smirked. "He's not wrong, sweetheart. I do bite." He leaned against the bars, chin resting on his folded arms. "But only when they deserve it."

The owner looked like he was seconds away from a nervous breakdown.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Okay. We need to talk."

Nicholas let out a low whistle. "Ooooh, someone’s in trouble."

The owner was sweating bullets, probably trying to figure out how to lie his way out of this mess. Meanwhile, Nicholas was watching the drama unfold like it was his personal entertainment.

Then, as if remembering something urgent, he perked up.

"Hey. Hey." He rattled the bars to get your attention. "Look at the board."

You followed his gaze to a large pricing sheet on the wall. A handful of hybrids had price tags next to their names. Nicholas' name stood out—because right next to it was a big, bright, 50% OFF sticker.

You turned back to him, unimpressed. "Wow. What a deal."

Nicholas grinned, ignoring your sarcasm. "Right?! Half-off ‘cause they hate me." He shot the owner a knowing look. "Tell her, boss. You despise me, don’t you?"

The owner made a choked noise. "I—I wouldn’t say despise—"

Nicholas leaned forward, voice deadpan. "You locked me up like a criminal."

The owner threw his hands up. "You bite people!"

"Heyyy—" Nicholas paused, then sighed. "Okay, yeah. But only when necessary. It’s called self-defense."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I came here for a tiger."

"Pfft. Cats are overrated. Get a dog instead!" Nicholas gestured to himself proudly. "We're stronger. More loyal. Funnier. And we don’t sleep 16 hours a day."

"That last part is debatable," the owner muttered.

Nicholas ignored him. "Did you know that Dobermans are one of the smartest breeds? I can learn commands faster than a cat could decide whether or not it likes you." He held up a finger. "Also, fun fact: I can run up to 32 miles per hour. That’s, like, twice as fast as a tiger."

You frowned. "That’s… not true."

He waved a hand. "Okay, fine, technically not true, but close enough! And let’s be real—are you gonna be riding a tiger into battle? No? Exactly. So my speed is more useful."

You stared at him. "Who said anything about battle?"

Nicholas smirked. "I dunno. You look like the type."

The owner groaned. "For the love of—please stop talking."

Nicholas gasped, mock-offended. "Wow. Silencing me? Unbelievable." He turned back to you. "Okay, okay, I get it. You want a deal, right? What if I told you… you could get me for free?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Free?"

He grinned. "Yup. You were scammed, remember? Kinda messed up that this guy took your money and then sold your hybrid to someone else, right?" He gave the owner a slow, smug glance. "So, as a totally reasonable solution, I propose he lets you take me instead. Y'know, as compensation."

The owner turned red. "ABSOLUTELY NOT—"

Nicholas clicked his tongue. "Wow. No integrity. Scamming and refusing to make it right? Unbelievable."

You exhaled. "This is ridiculous."

Nicholas grinned wider. "And yet… you're thinking about it."

You hated that he was right.

Nicholas was a genius.

A mastermind.

A visionary.

Because if he played his cards right, he was getting out of this cage today.

And hopefully with her.

See, it wasn’t just that he wanted to escape (though, obviously, yes). It was also because this girl? This girl was pretty. And sure, he’d been around plenty of humans before, but none of them had this… this vibe. She looked cool. A little intimidating. And definitely like she liked dogs.

Nicholas squinted at her. Yeah. No doubt about it. This was a dog person.

Her arms were crossed, her expression skeptical, but he could see it—the little crack in her resolve. Oh yeah. She was thinking about it.

He needed to seal the deal.

Time for maximum charm.

He widened his eyes just a little. Not too much—he wasn’t a chihuahua. Just enough for effect. Then he let his ears droop ever so slightly and leaned against the bars with a tiny, forlorn sigh.

"Pwease," he said, voice soft and dramatic. "I'm just a wittle guy. A wittle guy who got wrongfuwwy impwisoned—"

"Oh, shut up!" the owner snapped.

Nicholas immediately dropped the act. "Jeez, man, ever heard of theatrics? No wonder your business is flopping."

"It is not flopping—"

"Yeah? Then why am I half off?"

The owner turned red, looking like he wanted to strangle him, but Nicholas ignored him. Focus. Mission: Get Adopted.

Nicholas turned back to the girl and gave her his best puppy-dog eyes. "Listen. You and me? I think we'd make a great team."

She sighed. "I literally came here for a tiger."

"And yet... you're still here." He smirked. "Because deep down, you know I'm the better option." He flexed dramatically. "Look at these arms. Look at this jawline. I am built for protection. You want a tiger? Cool. But what happens when you need loyalty? What happens when you need someone to glare at people menacingly in public so no one even thinks about robbing you?"

"You do look like you'd be good at glaring," she admitted, eyeing his sharp features.

He perked up. Progress. She was considering it.

Time to go in for the kill.

"AND!" He suddenly wagged his tail a little—just enough to be endearing.

She blinked. "What?"

"I have so many more fun facts!" He grinned. "Did you know that Dobermans were originally bred to protect tax collectors? That means I have a rich history of intimidation. Also, my fur is low maintenance! You won’t have to deal with all that pesky shedding like you would with a tiger." He gasped dramatically. "OH! And I can sense when you're upset and will offer emotional support immediately. Do you think a tiger's gonna do that?"

She looked mildly amused now. "So you’re saying I should pick you because you’ll stare at people, not shed, and be a therapist?"

"EXACTLY." He nodded sagely. "I am the full package."

The owner groaned into his hands. "I can’t do this anymore."

Nicholas smirked, knowing he was winning.

"You remember? You could just take me for free."

The girl actually considered it for a second.

The owner, looking one step away from a mental breakdown, exhaled sharply. "Fine. Fine. Take him. Just—get him out of here. No refunds, no take-backs. Deal?"

Nicholas' ears shot up. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

OH MY GOD, IS THIS HAPPENING?

The girl raised an eyebrow. "You're really that desperate to get rid of him?"

"YES."

Nicholas had never seen a man so emotionally exhausted in his life.

The girl looked back at Nicholas, arms crossed again. "You bite people, though."

Nicholas beamed. "Only the ones who deserve it."

"...Fine. I’ll take him."

Nicholas froze.

Did she just—

OH MY GOD, SHE PICKED ME.

His tail thumped against the bars before he could stop it. "You won't regret this!"

She sighed. "I already do."

Nicholas just grinned. This was the best day of his life.

You stared at the hybrid centre doors—triple-locked, bolted, and possibly blessed by a priest—then turned to Nicholas.

"Okay, explain." You gestured to the absurd celebration that just took place. "Why were they acting like that?"

Nicholas grinned, tail wagging. "Oh, y’know, the usual. I was their favorite."

You gave him a flat look. "That was not the reaction of people losing a favourite. That was the reaction of people winning the lottery."

Nicholas let out a dramatic sigh, adjusting his mysteriously acquired suitcases. "Alright, alright. Tragic backstory time."

You raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Picture this," he started, voice lower like he was about to deliver the saddest tale in history. "A young, handsome, charming hybrid, full of life and excitement, enters the world. He is placed in a prestigious hybrid center. Hopeful. Naïve. Ready for his forever home."

"You’re talking about yourself in third person."

"Shh, don’t interrupt the art."

You sighed, crossing your arms.

Nicholas cleared his throat. "And then—the tragedy."

You waited.

"I was adopted," he said, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. "Again. And again. And again. But every single time—they brought me back."

Your expression softened slightly. "...That’s actually really sad."

"Yeah, yeah, I guess," he said, waving a hand. But his tail stopped wagging for a second.

Something about that made your stomach feel… off.

"Why did they return you?" you asked.

Nicholas rolled his eyes. "Because I might have been a little too much for them. Apparently, I was ‘destructive.’ ‘Too energetic.’ ‘Didn’t listen to commands.’ Blah blah blah." He waved a hand. "One guy even called me ‘the embodiment of chaos.’ Like, dude, that’s kind of cool—"

You gave him a look.

He coughed. "Okay, yeah, I did chew his couch into confetti, but in my defense, he had horrible taste in furniture."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Nicholas…"

"Hey, relax! It's fine." He grinned, too wide, too quick. "I don’t really think about it anymore."

But then, before you could respond—

His ears twitched. His tail stayed still.

And in a voice so casual it almost sounded like a joke, he said, "Eventually, you might get sick of me too and return me."

Your stomach twisted.

Nicholas, of course, didn’t let it linger.

"ANYWAY," he said, snapping back into his usual self, "you won’t return me, right? Right? You don’t look like a quitter."

You hesitated for a second too long.

He noticed.

For half a second, his expression flickered—something unreadable - something too quick to catch.

But then, like always, he covered it up.

"Pfft, kidding! Kidding. Obviously, you and me? Great team. You won’t get tired of me." He grinned, but this time it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Buuut if you do, at least let me keep the suitcases. They make me feel fancy."

You frowned.

You weren’t sure what annoyed you more—the fact that he was obviously deflecting or the fact that now you actually felt bad.

This dog was a menace.

A menace with a weirdly sad past.

"...Come on," you sighed, finally turning away. "Let's go home."

Nicholas perked up immediately, tail wagging again as he followed you. "YES. HOME. I can't wait to see my room!—Wait, I get a room, right? If not, I call dibs on the biggest bed."

You sighed and smiled.

You were in so much trouble.

You felt like you were gonna regret this.

But also… you didn’t.

Definitely making a part 2 for this!

I hope y'all enjoyed it 🥹

Likes and rebloggs are appreciated 🩷✨️

[writingbyshiloh]

Cautious yet optimistic and graceful

Part 2 & Part 3

CW: Morally gray reader, Fem!Reader, John Wick type of violence, drinking, Marquis is a bit of an ass, French is not the reader's native language but there are only 2 sentences in French. Both say “City of Lights” but the reader's French is off.(will update as the fic goes) 

AN: if the title is still messed up idk what to say I have been working too many hours. I have parts 2 and 3 planned if there is an interest! IDK French sunset times nor the weather so just roll with it. I also watched the entirety of community s4 so if he's ooc blame it on that. No beta

The other managers have it easier you think. If anything goes wrong in New York, that's okay because New York is gritty. Paris has such a large history and many different names that it is hard to include in one hotel. In Casablanca, Sofia has her dogs with her at all times so the hotel is a bit more laid back.  Maybe you are just bitter because your hotel in Paris is considered to be the epitome of class. 5-star dining, showing off the best French cheeses, hotel complete with a small vineyard for exclusive house-made wines. 

Maybe because you share the city with a very wealthy and powerful agent of the table. Marquis Vincent de Gramont was a thorn in your side. While never made explicit you felt like he had a hand in making you manager. 

Whether it was him wanting fresh blood running and influencing the Continental or your previous weapon (swords, often French by some weird coincidence) when you were still doing hits for the high table pulling on some patriotic thread in him.  The not knowing gave you small comfort.

You liked the concierge though, a woman named Camielle. You were given the option to fire her but declined wanting to make sure someone understood the hotel, at least during your few years running it. 

The gentle buzzing of your desk phone took you out of the work you were doing. Using the back end of your pen you punched the answer button. 

“Marquis de Gramont asked if you're free for dinner tonight. I said yes.” Camielle told her, her French accent coming across even on the phone. 

You bite back a whine. The threat of Marquis visiting always buzzed in the back of your head and you were sure that while not a member of the high table, he had enough power (in many senses of the word) to fully shut down your hotel. You also never spent time with him alone. You would occultly see him at some “business” even that was far and few between.  

You nod your head, before realizing that she couldn't see you. 

“What time? Did he say where?”

“Huit. Eight. He said the rooftop.” 

You thank her before she hung up, probably to help a guest.

Of course, he did. The location was formal, secluded and your favourite. Should you bring a guard? He won’t kill you, business is forbidden in Continental grounds you thought stabbing your pen against the notepad in front of you. 

While replaying the conversation in your head, the realization that he didn’t specify why he wanted to go to dinner hit. 

The rooftop was your favourite place in the hotel. Seeing other parts of Paris made the hotel feel small, like a normal business other than a safe haven for the criminal underworld as well as regular tourists alike. 

You went up early, earlier than the expected time. You could brainstorm what he wanted to talk about. New ideas that you decided to implement to various levels of success? You're planning on something to do with a section of the Catacombs, but no solid ideas yet.

You kept one security guard by the door, to the roof, while Chidi was someone skulking around somewhere. You talked to the chef before and arranged a menu for the evening. If the Marquis didn't like it you were sure that he would implore you to make changes.

His arrival was heard of before you saw him. A small nod from one of your guards alerted you that he was on his way up. You feel your nerves clawing in your stomach, back to fixating on why he wants this meeting.

While you hate to give him credit, he looks good. A suit that only seems to accentuate his long legs, a stunning red suit jacket, with a black tie and vest all over a white dress shirt. The chains across his vest and ring glinted in the light. He wouldn't be Vincent if not for dressing up like this. You slightly deflated realizing this was probably what he was wearing and not something special to see you. 

Bottle of champagne set in the ice bucket, stamped with the Continental embossing. He didn't change your menu so you assumed that he was content with it. Hoping you only had to so small talk with him until the food arrived or he decided to drop some sort of bomb on you.

“The view is beautiful,” he said, gaze burning into you. Wonderful. You have to make small talk before whatever he is here for is here.

You turned your head to see the Elifle tower situated against the evening sky. 

“It is.” you agree as you turn your face back to him, realizing that he never looked at the surroundings, but was looking at you. 

“C’est la ville du lumier”. Maybe the conversation would go faster if it was in french. 

“'La ville lumière'” he corrects you before switching back to English. “You do not use the 'du'”. 

Heat rises to your face after making a small mistake in French. 

“Sorry. My French is primarily used for business.” You let the last word hang in the air, both knowing what you meant. 

“How you do anything is how you do everything, Mademoiselle,” He says changing the subject. 

Like being annoying you think in reference to him choosing to call you mademoiselle, most show you respect by calling you The Manager, keeping with the sister hotels. You take a slow sip of your drink, stalling for anything to say. 

He places his hand on yours. 

“You approached dinner with me like you approach your hotel. Cautious yet optimistic Gracefully.” 

You sit in stunned silence. He gives your hand a small squeeze bringing your attention back to him,

“That is a compliment.” he continues. “It is good to see fresh ideas in the Continental.” 

You thank him quietly, thoughts racing as you try to pull everything together. He likes your ideas? All of the compliments, his hand on yours, the romantic location. Is he flirting with you? Does his speech about the way you do anything apply to him in the bedroom? What would that even be? Still annoying?

He takes a sip of his wine, the movement snapping you out of your perverted thoughts, finally, you find an opening for actual conversation. 

“I was thinking of something underground. With the catacombs? Or something inspired by them.”

You think he mumbled ‘tourist” under his breath but decided to let it slide. He tilts his head indicating you to keep going. 

“And something maybe like a speakeasy?” You saw him about to correct you but you kept speaking “Even though France only banned absinthe.” 

You expected him to be annoyed and you were only half right. Part of him was irritated, the other part proud that you are learning history. 

A slight clearing of the throat grabbed your attention. The food.

“Marquis de Gramont. Manager.” The server nodded toward you both before setting down the plates and leaving.  

The dinner a few weeks ago was the first time you spent time with him one on one (as long as you didn't include his guards). However, a quick mutual liking based on annoying each other took place. Almost like childish flirting, if you thought that he would date. Does he have an arranged marriage? You forbid yourself from googling Marquis traditions and rules. 

And maybe on the side of your friendship, you had a small crush. You tried to avoid it and push your feelings down to nothing, but a flash of his long legs in his exquisite style, or his voice pulls your feelings back to yourself.  

He could just be lonely. You didn't know his exact age but you guessed early 30s. Given the years of practice and training, those successful in your business were older. You were somewhat close to him in age, closer to him than some of the big names. 

Giving in you picked up your phone and punched in one of his numbers. While the phone rang you picture one of his staff bringing him the phone, probably on some kind of silver platter. On the few times you called him before one of his staff answered, asking you why you were calling. 

“Bonjour Mademoiselle. What do you need?” 

Oh shit. That's not his butler. That’s him. 

“Do you know much about wine? And are you free tomorrow night?” You try not to sound nervous and unsure on the phone, but his answering threw off your game. 

“Oui, and oui.”

Taglist: @heartrot666 (it will not let me tag you :-( )

[enden-k]

NEW CONTENT TO ANALYZE 🛐

For now have a very eepy fixation on the scene where Saran is wrapped around Vika. He's not even close to being physically similar to Vika. Does that stop him at all from being his own weighted blanket/being able to wrap himself around him? Not at all. The reason he has tentacles is to better wrap around Vika

(Something about how Saran seemed to be absentmindedly petting the scars, I wonder if it was due to the texture? Or just something he likes doing. Idk something about it is very intimate, for some reason, usually you'd see a character kissing the area so i guess it's because it's something i haven't seen before that IS a display of intimacy. Rolling it over in my brain. Like a rotisserie chicken. Good concept)

Also 'VIKA CONTROL YOUR TOOL' lmao. It's giving 'GET YOUR FUCKING DOG BITCH' "It don't bite" 'YES IT DO-'. Protective Saran. Also a tasty concept. Good brain food too. Good stuff

(Also, the person who was saying that they liked Saran despite having some issues with eyes is so real. I have a horrible eye phobia. Eyes in general (specially eye contact) really creeps me out and every now and then there will be an illustration where i go 'ah yes this is the eye character. How the fuck did I forget that when IT'S HIS WHOLE THING' because genuinely you HAVE to be putting something in him! He doesn't creep me out! Genuinely i dont have any idea how Saran isn't just one walking trigger for me or why i enjoy him as much even when he does occasionally spook me

It's so weird! Fascinating! Genuinely feel like consuming Saran content (well. Your content in general but specially Saran related) has desensitized me somewhat to eyes. I even find myself particularly enjoying the way eyes have been drawn that day! Good characters good lore and now I can go a step above in my character analysis (in other fandoms) by watching their eyes without getting freaked out about it! Never have been so happy to have stumbled across someone's work)

-eepy 🦜. Still rotating the way they cuddle in my head. Saran is so attentive. So lovely....

imo, wrists are super intimate to touch (probably bc im very sensitive there and dont like them being touched unless its someone im comfortable w and trust); not to mention scars (esp if its SH)

saran stroking and tracing them gently is like him acknowledging them but not judging or pitying etc vika; not paying extreme attention/hyperfocus to them but also not ignoring them to the point of it becoming obvious. they are just a part of the person he loves. they are just there

also, saran just really likes to touch (so does vika) but very soft and gentle; hes the kind of person who will always gently run his knuckles down your face, hold your wrist and trace your veins or scars, stroke the back of your hand or palms, push stray locks of your hair behind your ear. its little but very intimate touches that say more than words could in this moment, more powerful than a bold touch imo

LMAO ITS FUNNY BC while im not scared of eyes at all or anything, im also just very uncomfortable and bad with being looked at/eye contact (i can manage when its a few seconds tho but i really do hate being perceived) but drawing saran so much and his many-eyes when theyre all staring straight at the viewer never fazed me lololol (prolly bc i stare at my own drawings longer than any of you, since i work on them n all)

i love how the eye-guy somehow managed to break through yalls fear of eyes tho!! saran was on his way to become a doctor before he died, does it count if i say bby still managed to "help" at least one a little bit even tho hes dead now? 🥹

[cosmicourple]

Animal A.U.

Odysseus is a Wolf-Hound Hybrid, Poseidon, Hades & Zeus r Bulls, Athena is a Little Owl, Penelope is a Secretarybird (idk why, just roll w/ it), Telemachus is a Wolf-Hound pup, The Crew including Polites n Eury’ would all be various types of dogs, aaaaaaand I’m to lazy to put the rest :)

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Puppy boy Steve not in the omegaverse way just in the kinky way oh my god- hot shit.

perhaps related to this gif set? this has been in my inbox for a long time, so idk, oops

also, I hope you don't mind, but I'm linking this ask with this other one I got more recently

which is related to this

the post reads, "i need a dogboy bending me over and rutting against me crying and whining to let them fuck me because theyre so hard it hurts and theyve been such a good dog havent they? dont they deserve a little reward. cmere puppy fill me up youre such a good dog arent you? cmon you can even cum in me if you beg for it <3"

Ask 1) I fucking agree! And I have puppy boy shit for Steve! I have a lot 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Ask 2) YES! I was thinking stucky thoughts when I queued that post!!

As for what I have...

(some of these are just puppy play, the werewolf stuff is literal puppy, some are puppy-human-hybrid like Buckitty, and a few are omegaverse, too. All the flavors of puppy Steve, lol)

Soft Puppy Steve HCs Puppy Interview w/ Fun Afterward Werewolf Steve? More Like Puppy Steve Puppy Steve In Rut Buckitty & Puppy Steve In The 40s (mostly @/possibleplatypus, though, lol) Puppy Alpha Steve Puppy Alpha Steve Fisting Dom Omega Bucky High-Tech & Slobbery Puppy Steve Puppy Steve Discovering His Puppiness

Now... *cracks knuckles* more puppy Steve

"Please pleasepleaseplease," Steve is a goddamn puddle on top of him. Just a hot, soaked blanket laid out over Bucky's body. Steve is in a careless sprawl because he doesn't have enough brain cells to control himself. That's why all his movements are jerky and desperate and hold no fucking finesse whatsoever. He's pure instinct, chasing pleasure with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, drooling, and his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Hot for everything. His whole body is blushing. When he's so far gone like he is now--a handful of orgasms deep and still rutting it out for more--everything fucking turns him on. Bucky could do whatever he wanted to him like this and the big, dumb lump of need so eager to get off would eat it up. He's so eager to please.

"Please what," Bucky emphasizes, digging his hand into Steve's hip while the other holds a lube-soaked fleshlight between their bodies. That's what Steve's plowing right now, a fleshlight, doing his fucking best to fuck it until it's loose despite the resilience of the smooth, string silicone that keeps letting go of his cock with obscene squelching noises. There's more than enough tingling, heating lube poured inside of it, making a mess of Steve's cock and dripping down to his balls and over his quivering thighs. Bucky's already plenty loose from the first few rounds himself, so he's more than sated, he's just enjoying his evening at this point, sprawled out, humming to himself, relaxed, and holding Steve's dirty little toy for him. He's just waiting for Steve to be done. He's never done. He's got a fucking nuclear-powered sex drive, Bucky swears. "What is it, you silly puppy?"

"Mmmmmngh, mmgh, ngh!" Steve makes a bunch of useless fucking noises before he can wrangle his mouth in enough to get his lips and teeth and tongue to work somewhat together, admitting as he ruts instinctively, chasing the sucking tight channel in front of him, meant for pleasure, "I, oh, I-! It huuurts!"

Bucky feels his lips pull into a splitting, mean grin. He lets go of Steve's hip in favor of throwing that arm behind his head, stretching out and getting casual, as if he's not at all invested in Steve losing himself inside a damn fleshlight. "You don't like your new toy, puppy?" He asks, cocking his head to one side.

"Nnngh," Steve's eyelashes flutter obscenely, struggling to fuck and process words at the same time. He's so useless it's fucking adorable. "N-no," he battles to get the words out, but then he can't seem to stop, chanting, "I like it, I like it, I like it--"

Bucky just fucking laughs, "are you sure, silly boy? It doesn't sound like you do if it hurts." He feigns like he might pull away and not let him keep going if apparently it hurts. That makes Steve whimper so loud it almost hurts Bucky's ears. Damn puppy. He leaves the fleshlight where it is, melting Steve down into fucking nothing. Just stupid and needy. "Don't know what you want, do you?" He teases.

Steve shakes his head, then nods.

Bucky has no idea if he even knows what his head is doing. He might just be going limp, letting his hips do all the work as the only thing moving. His rhythm is fucking terrible, all erratic and selfish. If he were fucking Bucky still, it wouldn't be enough to get Bucky off, but, hey, Steve doesn't give a fuck. He's just a useless, untrained puppy. It's surprising he's gone this long without cumming again since he's obviously so new to the art of fucking, untrained, but... he has had enough Steve-gasms already that it's possible he's fucking empty. Maybe he doesn't have any more to give. Maybe he's just too stupid to notice that it's not pleasure but overstimulation keeping him hard. A puppy running after a treat, no other thoughts in his head to keep him from looking out if he's about to walk into a wall or trip over a toy or anything.

Pure pleasure. Simple. That's all he needs.

"I, I like it," Steve wheedles, his voice all high and pathetic.

"Mm, yeah, I can see that," Bucky hums, pretending his bored while he squeezes the fleshlight as tightly as he can.

"AH!" Steve almost fucking screams at the sudden added stimulation.

He's a goddamn picture. Strung-out and defenseless. Bucky can do anything to him, poor. little. puppy.

"It hurts?" Bucky unkindly parrots what Steve was trying to say before he had more interest in torturing him, just a little. Not enough to hurt anyone. Just for fun. Just because why not? It's hot a shit anyway.

"It huh-hurts!" Steve agrees unthinkingly.

"Do you wanna stop, then?" Bucky, again, pretends like he's ready to take away Steve's favorite bone for fear of him swallowing the last remaining part of it and hurting himself.

"No!" He wails.

"Why not?"

"C-can't, nngh, uhng! Can't!"

"Why not, puppy? Why can't you stop?"

"'M hard."

"You're hard, okay? What about it?"

"S-so, so hard. I can't stop."

"Aw, poor puppyyy," Bucky strings out, carding his fingers through Steve's sweaty blonde mop of hair like he's petting him, "it hurts but you're hard and you can't stop," he echoes much to Steve's whimper of embarrassment. "What a predicament you're in. Tsk tsk," Bucky clicks his tongue, "such a hard life!"

"Mmmmgh, mmm-hmm!" Steve whines his agreement with Bucky's ficticious statements. He's too gone for anything as complex as sacrasm.

Bucky loves him like this. He loves his dumb, horny puppy so bad. It's so fucking good.

"You're so dumb, puppy. Spoiled and dumb. You're getting that cock wet and you're getting to cum again and again and you're complaining? Ugh. The nerve of you, puppy." Bucky razzes him, flicking the tip of his nose just to see Steve flinch and his face melt back into mindless, slack pleasure after the surprise.

When his words finally fucking register, Steve just moans, agonized.

"Are you sorry, puppy?" Bucky teases.

Steve nods sloppily, drooling just that much more. The big, dumb animal.

"Then, where are my apologies?"

"'M, I'm sorryyy, s-sorry," he mewls.

"Good boy."

Steve shakes all over.

"And what about my pretty thank yous?"

Through a heaving sob Steve frantically chatters, "thank you thank youthankyou!"

"There it is. Good pup."

Steve hiccups through another cry, still fucking plowing forward because, really, that's all he knows. It's the only thing he can do. It's perfectly in his nature. Squirmy, greedy little hedonist too simple to look forward to the future, just completely obsessed with now, now, now.

[lovelykil]

headcanons─

: ➛ main 4 x reader

hc; random

cw; none

note; silly little headcanons for the silly 4

There's absolutely no denying that killua teases you because of your height. I see it so vividly..

he's only literally a FEW inches taller than you and he makes it such a big deal, always measuring his height with yours with his hand and smirking when you groan and fold your arms.

When you guys met during the hunter exam you were a little taller than him, and sometimes would tease him about it when you guys became closer.

Same with Gon he would always pout and make a fuss whenever you teased him about it.

That was when you guys were 12.

5 years later.. you have to look up to them to talk.

"Y/n remember when you used to be a pain in the ass when it came to our height? Well, look who's little now?" The ex-assassin shoved his hands into his pockets after moving his hand to measure the height difference.

His smirk was indeed full of play and tease. You crossed your arms as a big tic mark appeared on your head.

"I call bullshit!"

kurapika is literally mamapika

kurapika cooks.. to an extent but with the help of leorio, they make a great team in the kitchen.

The hunters live in a house somewhere in York city, signed under leorios name

Cause that man makes hella BANKK

Kurapika still does his missions, the 2 boys like to venture and go outside, and leorio is a doctor so most of the time they are all out doing whatever. They come home exhausteddd.

Leorio cooks up the best shit ever somehow and yall eat that shit upp.

oh did I mention you live there too? I'd assume you'd knew but

Killua just lovess sneaking into your room to annoy you, most times he does this because he is bored and Gon is asleep.

So he's in your room at night most of the time.

You guys watch movies, shows, animes you get it

but there's times where.. he gets lonely and wants to be with you.

As you two are watching a show he secretly sneaks a glance at you and smiles softly then returns to the screen.

He's NOT slick as he thinks he is😒

You know most of the time why he comes into your room, he doesn't just wanna 'hang out' no.

You still love the quality time though.

When you guys finally grow tired you turn off the TV and get comfortable in your bed as he walks towards the door about to leave, but he stops.

"..y/n.."

"hm?"

"can I.. uhm.. sleep-"

"you do this every night kil, just come here." He blushes hard, walking his flustered ass self right to your bed. You lift the blanket with a teasing smile.

He rolls his eyes, filling in the space between you and him.

"Just know I'm not sleeping here because I miss you." He grumbles in a whisper, facing you. You begin to roll your eyes, putting your hand on his face.

"Yeah okay, night jerk."

"I'm serious!" o (≧Д≦) o

Gon likes to sleep all over the place ..☹️

If you're sleeping with him just get ready to get kicked in the face.

LMAO

He also talks in his sleep 🧍🏾‍♀️?

"w..wait.. don't take my.. hotdog.. hotdog man..." the ravenette murmurs in his sleep, his brows furrowing. Your eyes open and look to your side to see him grow frustrated in his sleep. You shrug it off and close your eyes again, leaning in to cuddle with him.

As soon as you touch his arm he screams making you jolt back and scream yourself.

"DONT TAKE MY HOTDOG !!!"

"GON WHAT THE HELL"

I love to think killua has a mullet when he's like 17 or 18 idk but he definitely has GOT a mullet

SHUT UP I SEE IT I SEE IT I SEEEE ITTTTT

have you seen those fanarts with him and a mullet? It just makes sense and ohhmylord🤭

You like to play with his hair as he just let's you after many attempts on swatting you away.

"You better not mess up my hair."

"I'm just braiding it 😒"

Killua is a cat and Gon is a dog

Kurapika once grew out his hair, he looked more like a women and guys were cat calling him more in the streets 😔

So that's why you were helping him cut his hair. He randomly asked for your help as you were playing UNO with gon and killua.

"HUHHH? GON ARE YOU CHEATING?"

"NO now draw four" (´ 3｀)

"I am NOT grabbing 4 cards, you CHEATED."

"Killua just grab the 4 cards so I can go."

"NO I DONT WAN-"

The door opened slowly to reveal an annoyed kurapika with scissors in his hands.

"Y/n can you cut my hair, thank you." He placed the scissors on the ground then walked out of the room to go to the bathroom, all quietly and bothered.

You looked at him walking away then looked at the 2 teens.

"Uhhh, I'll be back?" You placed your cards down. Gon and Kil watched you disappear out of the room then quickly take a sneak peak at your cards.

"SHE HAD A REVRESE?"

[adaptacy]

hello hello letting you know i am absoutely 👀 interested in that old west au you mentioned

giggles

i just wanna chew on leland idk i wanna just.. yknow? idk point is i lob him and now you can have cowboy leland

riding a horse with someone is so intimate and sexually charged for no reason so take this brainrot :D

we also got a little brother's best friend goin on cause.... giggles

Cowboy!Leland x Afab!Reader

You leaned your elbows over the paddock fencing, watching the man in the saddle as he directed the horse to walk circles around a pair of ex-beer barrels. You glanced at the folded bills in between your fingers, and then back up at the man. He'd been at it for about an hour, you'd been watching him from the porch of your house, but it still made very little sense to you. It made even less sense with how much you were paying him. Or, how much your brother was paying him.

The man noticed you staring, as you'd been there for several minutes already, and he tugged on the reigns, directing the horse away from the barrels as he approached you.

"Everythin' alright, miss?" He asked, the upper half of his face shadowed by the brim of a hat, but it didn't hide his gaze. He glanced back at the house, and then to you once more, squinting slightly. "You hurt, or-?"

"No, no, I'm not hurt. I just... What is it you're doin', exactly, Mister Mckinney?" You asked, motioning towards the horse, who shifted her head away at your movement.

"I'm trainin'er. You... You own a ranch, and you don't know what horse trainin' is?" He let out a quiet laugh, and you rolled your eyes with a scoff.

"I don't own the ranch. My brother does. I'm just stickin' around for a bit before I settle down. Watchin' the dogs and keepin' the house tidy while he's gone. Ain't the horse s'posed to come trained?" You asked, knitting your eyebrows in confusion.

"No, uh.. No, they don't all come trained," he chuckled. "I'm just helpin'er temperament. Gettin'er used to being ridden. You ever rode one before?"

"A horse?"

"Yeah...? Yeah, a- a horse," he clarified, not sure what else you'd be talking about.

"No."

"You wanna?" You narrowed your eyes, and he reached his hand down. He motioned towards the paddock fence. "Climb on up. I'll show ya. Just be real gentle, she won't hurt ya if yer easy on'er," he directed.

"I'm... not sure," you released a nervous laugh, but he shrugged.

"Why not? I'm right here. I ain't gonna let you fall 'r nothin'," he reassured, and you pursed your lips, contemplating the idea. After a moment, you tucked the money into your pocket and lodged your boot on the first wood level of the fence, climbing onto it. You took the man's hand, and he placed his other on your waist, helping you onto the horse. "Easy now, that's it," he hummed, doing his best to steady your wobbly motions.

He moved off the saddle slightly, giving you room to sit as you held onto a small handle-like wooden sculpture jutting out from the saddle. His hand was still on your hip, but he removed it once you seemed steady enough.

"See? You got it. Practic'ly a natural," he teased, and you looked down, realizing how high up you were. It was a little uncomfortable, but not terrible.

"That's it? What's all the talk 'bout then? Don't seem that special," you remarked, and he chuckled.

"Toss your leg over," he directed, and you did as he asked. He shifted closer to you, pressing his chest against your back and his arms against yours, the reigns still in his hands. "I'll go slow, don't freak out," he hummed, noticeably close to your ear, and you gave a slow nod.

His boots gently hit the horse's sides, and there was a bit of a jump as the horse moved into motion, leading you to nervously grasp the handle in front of you and lean forward. He leaned forward too, keeping his chest against you as you awkwardly bumped with the horse's every step.

"Surprised your brother owns a ranch and you ain't ever ridden a horse before. You lived here long?" He asked, and you shrugged.

"Not very. Traveled with a group for a while. Didn't end up workin' out. Came back here. Parents owned this old place and I just... never really got into it, I s'pose. Brother's always been for it. Guess he got the cowboy trait," you explained, your speech occasionally broken up by bumps in the horse's steps.

"Nah, I think you got some of it in'ya. You got good rhythm," he complimented, though you didn't quite understand what he meant. He tugged the horse to a stop, setting down the reigns momentarily and instead placing his hands on your arms, earning a shift from you. "Hold onto her mane, right there. Might be more comfortable. Real tight, it ain't gon' hurt her. You got it," he encouraged, guiding your hands to the closest section of a black mane, your wrists resting on the brown fur of the creature. "Ready?"

"Sure," you replied, and he kicked her back into motion, causing your body to jolt forward slightly, but once you found the 'rhythm' he spoke of, the positioning was slightly more comfortable. Sure, you could also feel his hips against yours with every single step, but were you really complaining? No.

"Better?" He asked, leaning down slightly once more; he wasn't as close as before, but you were still acutely aware of his body against yours. "You're doin' good for a beginner."

"Yeah, better," you replied, a small smile on your face at his praise. He guided the horse around the length of the perimeter, and when he reached roughly the same spot where he'd originally picked you up, he pulled her to a stop. You sat up, looking back at him. "Why'd you stop?"

"Well, I gotta get back to trainin', sweetheart. I ain't gettin' paid for nothin'," he chuckled, smiling innocently at the small frown on your face. "What're you poutin' for?"

"Can't we do one more lap? It was kinda relaxing," you requested, shrugging.

He narrowed his eyes, seeming rather confused at the question. "Well, you can always do it on yer own time. It is your horse, after all. I was just tryin' be a gentleman. You looked lonely," he answered.

"I was," you mumbled, looking back at the house. He furrowed his brows at the comment, but you continued speaking before he replied. "I ain't gonna have time to learn myself. I'll pay you."

"Oh, no, you ain't gotta do that. I- Are you askin' me to teach you, darlin?" He asked, and you gave a small nod, bringing a slight smile to his face. "That's awfully sweet of ya, but I ain't sure how your brother'd feel 'bout me takin' his little sister out on horseback. If you got hurt, I wouldn't-"

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," you cut off, and the cowboy left his mouth slightly open, giving you an almost frustrated glare. You sat up all the way and turned back to him, reaching for his chin with your hand, but he stopped you before you could pull him into a kiss.

"Sweetheart, this really ain't a good idea. I- I don't mean to be rude, you're a fine lookin' lady, but I really do respect yer brother, and-"

"Just kiss me," you grumbled, pulling him closer again, and this time he didn't resist your tug. You leaned towards him until your lips were on his, and you closed your eyes, unable to keep yourself from smiling as you felt a hand on your hip.

After a moment, he pulled away, blinking at you with an almost empty gaze. You held it, remaining silent as he processed the interaction. And then he tugged you closer and kissed you again, gently squeezing your waist. He held it for much longer this time, to the extent where you had to be the one to break it off, catching your breath as he chuckled. "I take it you're wantin' more?"

"Preferably," you replied, and the brunette smiled. He placed his other hand on your waist and guided your leg back over the saddle, helping you off of the horse as your boots hit the dirt. You looked up at him with a frown, but he shook his head.

"Relax, I ain't one to leave a lady unsatisfied," he reassured. His fingers snuck under his hat and he removed it, setting it on your head instead. "Run along inside, I'll get this gal back in 'er stable and we can... talk about payment options," he teased. Your frown turned into a smirk as you climbed back over the paddock fence, and he dipped his head, shifting back onto the main seat of the saddle as he guided the horse towards the gate.

After watching him for a moment longer, you turned around and headed back into the house, a satisfied grin on your face. Sure, you didn't know how to ride horses, but you did know how to ride cowboys. Maybe it was time for him to learn a thing or two.

[toxycodone]

Laios was probs one of those dog / wolf kids when he was young like just barking or woofing instead or talking whenever he felt like it (or was annoyed w smt) and idk fjfjfj i just find the idea of a tiny laios trying to strike up a convo w dogs and drawing a dog sona for himself so cute (can be modern au or not- the scene of him barking at the shapeshifter doesn’t leave my mind goofball 🥺🥺)

BROTHER. HOW MANY BLOGS DO U HAVE

dude i used to be a wolf kid and this is so true. kid Laios definitely thought he didn't fit in because he was half wolf and thats why his dogs liked him so much. he would try to only eat meat and howl at the moon or some shit. definitely ran on all fours around the dogs and wrestled them to be "leader of the pack"

I'd like to say since Falin became such a good healer that most of Laios's scars arent from the dungeon!! They're from fighting with his dogs/rolling around in nettles and crap kdjfhksdjfsh

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Leaf Pile | Roach x/& Reader

Day 14: Playing in the Leaves w/ Gary “Roach” Sanderson

Summary: You find a very lost, mute, British soldier in your very American base, and someone had the audacity to knock over his pile of leaves.

Word Count: ~ 1.4k

Warnings: Americans sorta bullying roach :( but it’s ok they make up, pure crack+fluff tbh

A/N: idk what was happening in this one it just wrote itself honestly, can be read as platonic or romantic, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Some British boys had come to base, was the rumor going around.

British boys coming to your very American base for Marines, mind you.

There had already been jokes going around, mocking the ones that had been seen for their accent, and you could’ve sworn you’d heard “bo’ol o’ wo’er” about a million times by now.

You didn’t care much. Men came and went all the time, like that group of German(?) men who’d been gone within the day, rumors starting up that they were haunting the place, vengeful spirits from World War II.

The rumors were stupid, but you worked with Marines, and they were bound to be idiots, even joking around with you, the one responsible for keeping everything behind the scenes up and running properly. You had a close bond with most of them, being the “mom” of the base, so maybe that was why you felt bad when you saw your men picking on one of the new British soldiers staying here for a few days for God knows what.

“C’mon, say it!”

One recruit shouted, another grinning as he nudged the silent man dressed in his full military gear, British flag clear as day on his uniform, face covered, gun hanging by his side.

He simply stood there, not doing anything.

Huffing to yourself, you strode over to the group of men while on lunch break, swatting whoever you got closest to.

“You’ve got shit to get done, I’m sure. Get moving.”

You nearly barked at them, and they quickly snapped back into place, mumbling little “yes ma’am”’s and skittering off to wherever they should’ve been, leaving the silent man behind. You approached him, raising a brow.

“Sorry about them, they’re idiots,”

You said, glancing down at his uniform, not finding a dog tag to read or a name tag in the slightest on him. That was usually how you knew to address most people around here, or the new ones, at least.

“What’s your name?”

You asked, tone more information-seeking than curious. He hesitated for a moment, before fumbling with his hands, making a whole lot of gestures you didn’t understand. At first, it just looked like he was drunk, crazy, or very confused and nervous. Eventually, it hit.

“Oh, sign language. That’s what you’re using.”

You said, tilting your head slightly to the side. He gave a little quick nod, and you reached for your phone, about to have him type it out, considering you hardly knew any sign language at all, only to find your phone missing.

Lunch break. You’d left it in your office.

“Shit,”

You mumbled, mind working to find a solution. Your office was too far from here to walk back again, and this poor man looked lost.

“How about a game of charades?”

You offered, and he frantically nodded, whether he was excited or just anxious wasn’t clear.

“Alright, how about your name?”

He gave a slight nod, and held both of his hands out, holding one arm steadily in front of him, his pointer fingers curling up, thumb remaining straight as he put it on his forearm, moving it very, very slowly.

“…A curly fry?”

You asked, very confused, before he shook his head, seeming frustrated until you realized.

“A snail?”

A nod.

“Your name is Snail?”

He shook his head, looking a bit frustrated.

“Alright, keep going.”

Next, he let his arm down, taking one hand and spreading the fingers out, in the shape of a star.

“A star?”

His hands twitched slightly before he made a rolling motion with one, in a gesture of ‘keep going’. Your brow wrinkled as you tried to figure out what he was trying to say before he pointed to the water fountain nearby.

“Water…star?”

You asked, confused, before making an ‘ohh’ sound.

“A starfish?”

He nodded, before moving on to the next object, making a square with his hands, and using a finger to poke figurative little holes in it.

“Cheese?”

Nope.

“A sponge?”

A nod. An excited nod this time.

“I still don’t get it. A snail, a starfish, and a sponge. What does that have to do with your name?”

He shook his head, making the gestures for all three all over again, making a plus sign, then an equal sign with two fingers. A snail plus a starfish plus a sponge. The answer you came up with sounded stupid in your head, but it was better than nothing.

“Spongebob?”

He hopped up from excitement, landing on the tip of his toes as he nodded, gesturing in a ‘keep going’ movement again and making the snail symbol.

“The snail from..Spongebob? Gary?”

He nodded, giving a thumbs up. You sighed in relief at the mental wild goose chase being over. At least you knew his name was Gary now.

“Alright then, Gary, I’m assuming you’re lost?”

He nodded. You didn’t blame him. This Base was big, bigger than the usual ones, and it was easy to get lost in the hallways, and corridors, not to mention all the buildings outside.

“How’d you get lost?”

You asked, mildly interested, and he leaned over, picked up an orange leaf from the ground, pointed to it, and threw it up in the air in a flying-away gesture.

“You followed a leaf?”

You asked, trying to keep the judgment off of your face and out of your tone. He shook his head, pointing to the lead again, but making a gesture of big, like a large leaf, or many leaves, and then pretending as if he were holding some sort of mop, broom, or probably a rake, sweeping the leaves together.

“You were trying to make a pile of leaves?”

He nodded, making a ‘follow me’ gesture, before jogging off down one of the courtyards, leaving you to follow him as he led you to one of the quiet areas on base during this time of day, closer to the barracks where not many were right now. Truth be told, the pile of leaves he led you to was small and mildly sad, and his posture seemed to droop as he looked at it, as if disappointed.

It didn’t take much to figure out that someone had messed with his pile of leaves while he’d been gone, probably to find more leaves, the trail left behind showing evidence of someone kicking it over.

You pursed your lips at the sight.

“You stay right here, I’ll be back.”

Lunch break be damned, you followed the trail of leftover leaves and the slightly dirty footprints left behind from the dirt on some of the leaves, only to find it leading to the canteen, where some recruits, some experienced men were sitting, chowing down on their meals.

You could call most of them by name, at this point in the year.

As they saw you walking in, sour look on your face, they must’ve known something was up, seeing as most of them quieted up very quickly, the ones who didn’t being elbowed enough to shut their mouths.

“Who kicked over the leaf pile in front of the barracks?”

Your stern voice rang out, waiting for an answer you wouldn’t get as everyone remained silent.

“If nobody wants to own up to it, I’d better find a pile at least five feet high when I go back out there. On your feet, boys!”

You barked, and they got to their feet, moaning and groaning as they lumbered outside, moving to go collect leaves while you took your lunch break inside, munching down quickly on a basic sandwich, going back outside after around fifteen minutes, finding all of your men and Gary with a giant pile of leaves, brown, orange, red and yellow blending together as they took turns jumping in it.

The less enthusiastic men took their lunch outside, chatting in the sun or wherever they could find shade, the autumn breeze blowing by.

You grinned as you watched them, leaning against the corner of the canteen building’s sturdy walls, watching as a disgruntled man with a mohawk, and a shorter man with a skeletal mask on almost walked straight past you, when they stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of the grown ass men playing in leaves.

“Wot.”

The masked man said simply, confusion palpable in his gaze.

“I’m guessing Gary’s yours?”

You asked, and the mohawk-man turned to face you after spying out his man in the crowd.

“Aye. Which one’s yours?”

He asked, Scottish lilt to his tone obvious, but comforting somehow.

You sighed.

“All the rest.”

Tags:

@hawke1917

[over-extra-tapidoodles]

Brocedes in Love is Blind

(Don’t ask how it would work bc idk, just roll w/ it)

Okay I don’t know why just thought of this but imagine:

So imagine they still go through their drama and everything; Lewis wants to move on and fall in love, while Nico is looking for the same thing.

Unknowingly, they signed up to the same season (whoops)

So they get into the whole pods, and they start talking to people

(Just to let you know, they are actually using fake names and Netflix is protecting their identities (as much as they can))

And for both there are good choices, but there’s one person they can’t stop talking to (it’s each other surprise surprise)

So when they reveal to each other, they just stand in shock

They had fallen for each other once again.

So now they have to deal with their drama being publicized even MORE bc they chose each other (soulmates fr) despite not knowing the other was on the other side of the wall. So plus the drama, they now have to be engaged and probably live in close quarters AGAIN.

They eventually re connect and clear any miscommunication that had happened over their F1 years, including an apology from both sides (eventually 😬)

In the end, they get married adopt more dogs and maybe adopt a kid or two :)

And they lived Happily Ever After (like they deserved)