#if you go to the source and then go to its source

[cheesenchalk]

thinking about that time somewhere in the early 70's George found an old letter of his from like '61 or something and pattie told him he should save it so he 'recreated' it and just for funsies threw in a line or two that wasn't in the original about how paul sucked at bass and john wanted to kick him out of the band. unparalleled haterism. you have to respect it

[wqnsho]

Can I request frontman x reader(Any gender) Where the frontman meets the reader OUTSIDE of his games, and then realizes he likes them?

(Sorry if I expressed myself a little unclearly)

soju | hwang in-ho x fem! reader

*.✧ synopsis: after rescuing a stranger late at night. hwang in-ho finds himself sharing soju with the girl he just saved. under the glow of the convenience store, an unexpected bond forms, offering a fleeting escape from his solitude. *.✧ word count: 3.7k *.✧ warnings: happens outside squidgame, attempted crime directed at reader, drinking, mentions of death. don't go drinking with people you don't know alone btw, this is just fiction. *.✧ note: hello to the requestor! hopefully this tickled your fancy :P thought about it earlier so I decided why not? I wrote this in 5 hours, hopefully it suffices. shorter than my past works! also a different writing approach. masterlist | request here

༉‧₊˚. As the overseer of the Squid Games, Hwang In-ho has an insane amount of workload like no other. Setting up the venue, recruiting trusted employees, and scouring for rich sponsors are just a few of the countless tasks he manages every year. ༉‧₊˚. He’s a busy man, constantly on his feet, ensuring everything runs seamlessly. But when his boss, Oh Il-nam, forced him to take a week off, he was left with an unfamiliar emptiness in his schedule, unsure how to fill his time. ༉‧₊˚. Currently, he’s sitting outside a small convenience store, a bottle of soju in hand. It’s nearly midnight—11:58 PM, to be exact—and the streets are eerily quiet. ༉‧₊˚. The air is cool, the weather perfect, and for a moment, it feels peaceful. With no one around, it’s just him and his thoughts. It’s a strangely calming experience, though the loneliness creeps in at the edges. ༉‧₊˚. As the Frontman, he has no companions he can freely invite to moments like this. No friends, no family, and no one to share his burdens. ༉‧₊˚. It’s not a bad thing, he tells himself. After all, solitude means safety. Yet, there’s a part of him that yearns for someone to confide in—someone who wouldn’t judge him for the ruthlessness his position demands.

As In-ho took another shot, the warm burn of soju did little to chase away the emptiness in his chest. The faint hum of neon signs and the soft rustle of leaves were the only sounds accompanying him, a quiet solitude he had come to both expect and resent.

Then a scream shattered the night, sharp and jarring. It pierced through the calm like a knife, slicing his thoughts in two.

He froze, the glass of soju hovering mid-air. For a brief moment, he did nothing, his body stiff with instinctual awareness. But before he could overthink it, his years as a police officer took over. He stood abruptly, scanning the dark street for the source of the commotion.

Down the road, just beyond the glow of the convenience store, two drunk men loomed over a figure, their rough voices slurred with mockery. The figure struggled in vain, her cries muffled by one man’s grip.

In-ho didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate. His strides were purposeful, his steps heavy with intent. “Hey!” he barked, his voice sharp and commanding. “Let her go!”

The drunk men froze, startled by his sudden approach. One of them turned, squinting at him in drunken confusion, before muttering something incoherent. But whatever courage they might have had faltered under the weight of In-ho’s glare, his presence exuding a quiet but dangerous authority. Without another word, they staggered off, stumbling into the shadows.

The figure crumpled to the ground as soon as she was released, her body trembling with shock. In-ho approached cautiously, his gaze softening. “Hey,” he said gently, kneeling down beside her. “Are you hurt?”

There was no response. Her breathing was ragged, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. In-ho hesitated, unsure if his presence was more comforting or alarming. Slowly, he shrugged off his coat, its fabric worn but warm, and draped it over her trembling frame.

“Here,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “This’ll keep you warm.”

The weight of the coat seemed to ground her, and she finally looked up at him, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the faint glow of the convenience store’s sign. Her eyes were wide and glossy, a mixture of fear and gratitude.

With a steady hand, In-ho helped her to her feet. She was light, almost fragile, as if a strong wind could knock her over. “Come on,” he said, guiding her gently back to where he had been sitting.

Once there, he gestured for her to sit, his movements deliberate and unhurried. For a while, neither of them spoke. The quiet stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a moment of reprieve, a chance for her to catch her breath.

“Thank you…” she finally said, her voice soft and trembling.

In-ho turned to her, his expression unreadable. “It’s no problem,” he replied, his tone calm but distant. “Just doing my job as a policeman.”

The words felt foreign on his tongue, a ghost of a past he didn’t like to dwell on. But he pushed those thoughts aside. “What are you doing out here at this time anyway?” he asked, his voice softer now.

She hesitated, pulling the coat tighter around her shoulders. “I just came out to grab something from the store,” she said quietly, glancing at the convenience store behind them. “Didn’t expect to run into… that.”

In-ho nodded slowly, studying her. She avoided his gaze, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of his coat. “What were you buying?” he asked, his tone casual, trying to put her at ease.

She blinked, then let out a small, embarrassed chuckle. “Just snacks. Ramyeon, chips… comfort food, I guess.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Comfort food at midnight? Sounds serious.”

“It’s nothing dramatic,” she replied, shaking her head. “Just one of those nights where you need something to make it feel a little less heavy, you know?”

In-ho’s smile faded, replaced by something more contemplative. He nodded again, his gaze dropping to the half-empty bottle of soju beside him. “I get it,” he said quietly.

The silence returned, but this time it was lighter, less oppressive. After a moment, In-ho reached for the spare cup he had brought earlier, rinsing it with a splash of soju. “You drink?” he asked, breaking the quiet.

She glanced at him, surprised by the question. “Uh… sometimes.”

He tilted his head toward the bottle, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. “Well, since you’ve already had a rough night, might as well join me. One drink won’t hurt.”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering between him and the bottle. Then, with a small nod, she said, “Sure. Why not?”

In-ho poured her a drink, the clear liquid catching the dim light as it filled the cup. He handed it to her, their fingers brushing briefly as she accepted it.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice a little steadier now.

He raised his own cup in a quiet toast, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before they drank. The burn of the soju was familiar, grounding.

For the first time that night, the gnawing loneliness in In-ho’s chest seemed to ease, replaced by the quiet comfort of shared company. There was no need for words—just the soft clink of glasses and the understanding that, sometimes, even the smallest connection could make the night feel a little less heavy.

༉‧₊˚. After three cups, In-ho quickly noticed that she wasn’t handling the alcohol too well. The slight slur in her words and the way she began to lean more heavily on the table after each sip made it clear. ༉‧₊˚. He felt so stupid inviting a girl with low alcohol tolerance to drink, but there was no backing out now. ༉‧₊˚. At first, he was concerned. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel worse because of the soju. But as the conversation continued, he began to notice something else. ༉‧₊˚. The alcohol seemed to help her relax, peeling back the careful guard she had when they first sat down. Her genuine personality emerged, warm and unfiltered, and for the first time that night, she seemed completely at ease.

“Y’know,” she said, words stretching slightly as she rested her chin in her hand, “you’re not as scary as you look.”

In-ho raised an eyebrow, amused. “Scary? Is that how you saw me?”

“Mmhm,” she hummed, nodding a little too enthusiastically. “When you came running over earlier, I thought you were gonna punch them in the face… which, by the way, would’ve been really cool.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.”

“Good, ‘cause it was meant to be one,” she replied, pointing at him with a slightly wobbly finger. “You’re like one of those grumpy cats. All intimidating on the outside but probably super soft if you get to know them.”

“That’s quite the comparison,” he said, smirking, unsure whether to be insulted or impressed.

She shrugged, leaning back in her chair, her eyes still bright. “I’m just saying what I see.”

In-ho found himself amused despite himself, the playful jab catching him off guard. “So, what else do you see?” he asked, curiosity creeping in, but keeping his tone casual.

She raised an eyebrow, considering the question for a moment, then grinned. “I think you’re the type of person who pretends not to care but secretly does. And that makes you kind of a softie.”

“Wow, that’s deep,” he said with a chuckle. “Did you come up with that all on your own?”

She nodded, looking proud. “Yep. I’m a great judge of character.”

He shook his head, clearly entertained by her. “Well, I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

She tilted her head, studying him for a moment, her smile softening. “You’re not as serious as you seem,” she said thoughtfully.

In-ho met her gaze, surprised by the shift. “Is that a compliment too?”

“Maybe,” she replied with a shrug. “But it’s true. You’ve got this whole... tough guy thing going on, but I can tell you’re not really like that.”

He let out a small laugh, leaning back in his chair. “You sure know how to read people, huh?”

She smiled, a bit smug now. “I told you, I’m good at this.”

༉‧₊˚. In-ho wasn’t the type to open up to strangers easily, but there was something about this encounter that felt different. ༉‧₊˚. Maybe it was the ease with which she joked, her humor a refreshing change from the weight of his usual silence. Her teasing nature and quick wit chipped away at the walls he usually kept firmly in place. ༉‧₊˚. She wasn’t scared of his tough exterior, and in some strange way, that made him feel… lighter. Her playful comments about him being too serious made him laugh—something he hadn’t done in a long time. ༉‧₊˚. One bottle of soju turned into two, then three, with neither of them really keeping track. The night, which had started off quiet and somber, slowly transformed. The stillness gave way to a lively energy, filled with soft laughter, comfortable silences, and warm conversation. ༉‧₊˚. As the alcohol worked its magic, the distance between them seemed to vanish. It wasn’t just the soju—there was something about her presence that made In-ho forget about the heaviness that often weighed on his mind. ༉‧₊˚. Her words were easy, her tone warm, and she spoke with such ease that it made him feel as though he could let go of all the unspoken burdens. She didn’t push him for anything, didn’t try to draw out his thoughts. She just was, and somehow that made the night feel less lonely.

“I mean, think about it,” she said, her giggles spilling out as she waved her chopsticks for emphasis. “If you weren’t a cop, you could totally be one of those broody action movie guys. You know the type—sharp jawline, mysterious aura…” She trailed off for a second, tilting her head as though she were analyzing him. “Like Lee Byung-hun!"

"You’d totally be the antihero. Do you practice glaring in the mirror, or is it just… natural?” She added, slurring a bit.

In-ho blinked, caught off guard by the question. His first instinct was to brush it off, but something about her teasing made it hard to not play along. “I do not practice glaring,” he said, his voice laced with mock indignation, though the corner of his lips twitched upward.

She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes like she was examining a specimen under a microscope. “Hmm…” she murmured, clearly unconvinced. “I don’t know… feels a little too perfect to be unpracticed. You sure you’re not rehearsing in front of the mirror at night?”

He rolled his eyes, but a laugh escaped him despite himself. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

She grinned, unbothered by his apparent defeat. “And yet, here you are, sharing soju with me,” she teased, tapping the rim of her cup with a smug expression as if she had just caught him in a trap. “Must be my charm.”

In-ho snorted at the playful arrogance in her voice. He looked at her—her easy smile, the glint in her eyes—and realized that, despite his usual guarded nature, he didn’t mind this. In fact, he kind of enjoyed it. “Well, I guess I couldn’t resist your charm,” he replied, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, come on,” she said, feigning offense, “You’re telling me the brooding cop is actually soft under all that tough exterior? That’s a plot twist I wasn’t expecting.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “What, you think I’m just some soft guy who lets anyone in?” he asked, the hint of a challenge in his voice.

Her grin widened, a mischievous spark dancing in her eyes. “Maybe,” she said, taking a dramatic pause, “but I think I’ve cracked the code.”

In-ho stared at her for a moment, half-amused, half-caught off guard. There was something about the way she didn’t hold back, how effortlessly she made him feel at ease, that got to him more than he’d like to admit.

“You think you’ve cracked it, huh?” he asked, leaning a little closer, his voice lowered slightly as if testing the waters.

“Maybe,” she said, still grinning, “But you’re not getting off that easy. I’ll need more time to figure you out.”

In-ho chuckled, a genuine sound, free of the usual tension he carried. He looked at her and, for once, didn’t feel the weight of being the brooding guy with a past to hide. She was right about one thing—she was definitely making him feel lighter.

“I think I could get used to this,” he said, raising his cup to hers in a silent toast.

She clinked it with a quick grin. “You better,” she said with a wink. “You’re stuck with me now.”

༉‧₊˚. By the time they finished their third bottle, her cheeks were flushed, and she was laughing at every little thing. Her laughter was infectious, bubbling up at the smallest of jokes or even just the awkward silence between them.  ༉‧₊˚. In-ho, who wasn’t much of a drinker himself, found himself laughing along, not so much at the jokes, but at her genuine enjoyment. ༉‧₊˚. He had never been one to let loose, to be this open with anyone, but her easygoing nature was different. It was so refreshing that it caught him off guard in the best way. ༉‧₊˚. He wasn’t used to this—being around someone so unguarded, someone who could just be, without constantly second-guessing every word or action. And it made him realize how long it had been since he’d truly let go of his own reservations. ༉‧₊˚. At one point, as they were talking about something completely random, she started humming a little tune to herself. ༉‧₊˚. The notes were soft, almost silly as if the melody had just popped into her head. It wasn’t a song, just a tune she made up on the spot, and before he knew it, she started singing it aloud, her voice a little off-key but full of life.

“Do you hear that?” she said, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “It’s a hit in the making. You should totally record it.”

In-ho’s lips twitched, resisting the urge to chuckle, but he let it slip out anyway. Her randomness was infectious. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but something about this moment made everything feel lighter, almost like he was seeing the world from a different angle.

He watched her for a moment, her laughter still echoing in the quiet night, and a small, genuine smile tugged at his lips.

It was rare for him to feel this easy, this unburdened. Normally, there was always something pulling at him—the weight of his responsibilities, the shadows of his past. But with her, everything seemed to fade away.

Her laughter, her carefree spirit, her utter lack of restraint—it was a stark contrast to everything he was used to, and yet, for once, it felt right. It was exactly what he needed.

“So, are we starting a band now?” he teased, leaning back in his chair, his voice light and relaxed.

She looked at him with a wink, clearly pleased with his response. “Well, you’re the tough guy with the brooding stare, so you’re definitely the lead singer,” she replied, pointing at him with a grin.

In-ho shook his head, chuckling to himself. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for singing,” he said, his voice still warm with the aftereffects of their shared drink.

She tilted her head, staring at him for a moment before speaking with a playful glint in her eye. “Oh, no. You’re definitely the lead singer. The whole ‘I don’t care, I’m too cool’ thing. It’s perfect.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m not broody,” he protested, though the amusement in his voice betrayed him.

“You’re definitely broody,” she teased, winking at him.

In-ho gave her a smile, but when his eyes shifted to his watch, he saw it was already past 3 a.m. His face softened slightly, and he frowned as he set his cup down.

“It’s getting late,” he said, his voice quieter now as he stood up, the weight of the hour sinking in.

She groaned, leaning back in their chair dramatically, clearly not ready for the night to end. “Already? You’re no fun, Officer,” she complained, the playfulness still in her voice.

In-ho shook his head, half-amused, half-concerned. “And you’re someone who needs to get some sleep,” he replied firmly, holding out his hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

She pouted at the suggestion but took his hand anyway, stumbling slightly as they stood up. “Fine, but only because you’re being all responsible and stuff,” she said with a mock pout, though her lips were curled in a smile.

In-ho chuckled, steadying them as she swayed a little. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and for the first time in a long while, he found himself enjoying the moment—taking the time to care, to share something lighthearted, even if it was just for a brief while.

༉‧₊˚. On the walk to their apartment, their playful teasing didn’t stop. She nudged him with her shoulder every chance she got, laughing at her own exaggerated guesses about his “dark and mysterious backstory.” ༉‧₊˚. In-ho found himself relaxing more than he thought possible, their carefree energy infectious, filling the air between them with an ease he hadn’t felt in ages. ༉‧₊˚. For once, he wasn’t thinking about the weight of his past, or his responsibilities, or any of the worries that usually clouded his mind. He was just... enjoying the moment.

“So,” he said after a while, his voice light as they neared her building, “you’ve got my name, but I don’t think I ever got yours.”

She stopped in front of the door and turned to face him, giving him that mischievous grin he was beginning to recognize and love. “It’s [Lastname] [Name],” she said, her voice soft but steady, her eyes sparkling with that playful glint.

“[Name],” he repeated, the unfamiliar sound of it rolling off his tongue as if testing it for the first time. He nodded, as if committing it to memory. “I like it.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, teasing. “Yup. And don’t forget it.”

He chuckled, a low sound that felt foreign but good. “I won’t, don’t worry.”

She stepped closer, her grin widening. “Thanks for tonight, In-ho,” she said, her voice softening just a little. “You’re a good guy. Like, a really good guy.”

The compliment hit him harder than he expected, and for a brief moment, it made him uneasy. Good guy? His mind flickered back to his role as the Frontman—the games, the deaths he orchestrated, and the weight of the people he’d let down. He wasn’t sure he deserved to be called “good.”

His lips twitched into a small smile, but it wasn’t easy. He rubbed the back of his neck, fighting the warmth rising in his chest, the sense of contradiction gnawing at him. “I’m not so sure about that,” he muttered, a modest shrug masking the inner turmoil. His mind battled with the reality of who he was.

With a deep breath, he focused on her again, the playful spark in her eyes grounding him. “But… you’re welcome,” he said softly, the words coming out more genuine than he expected, despite the turmoil that lingered beneath.

Before he could say anything else, she leaned up, quick and confident, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. It was brief, just a fleeting touch of her lips, but it was enough to make his heart skip a beat. The warmth of the kiss lingered on his skin, and for a moment, he was frozen, caught completely off guard by the simple, sweet gesture.

She pulled back, smiling at him with that same playful glint. “Goodnight, Officer In-ho,” she said with a wink, her voice light and teasing, before stepping into her apartment and disappearing behind the door.

༉‧₊˚. In-ho stood there for a moment, his fingers brushing over the spot where her lips had just been as if trying to hold onto the feeling a little longer.  ༉‧₊˚. A rare, genuine smile spread across his face, one that felt unfamiliar but welcome. He let out a quiet breath, feeling something shift within him—a sense of warmth, of connection, that he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. ༉‧₊˚. Turning away, he started walking back towards the direction of his apartment, his steps lighter than they’d been in a long time.  ༉‧₊˚. For once, the weight in his chest felt a little less heavy, and there was a certain peace in the quiet night air. As he walked, he thought, maybe Oh Il-nam wasn’t so bad for forcing me to take a week off after all. ༉‧₊˚. With the memory of her kiss still lingering, he couldn’t help but smile again, the thought of her brightening his steps as he headed back into the night.

[stump-not-found]

Sorry if this has already been answered, but does Ford celebrate his birthday? I know its pretty hard to keep track of time when its ... nonlinear in the multiverse but I feel like Bill would know. And to ford every once and a while Bill demands his attention and he comes back to the pyramid to the wildest (worst) surprise party. The cake is human skin, candles are those really long wisdom teeth. Ford hates it.

i'll call out that a main plot point of chapter 4 is the fact bill gets ford presents on his b-day so yah its a regular thing, but they celebrate the day after his b-day

first birthday together bill probably does the skin cake thing but ford just rolls his eyes and sighs . bill almost fucking shoots himself after that response

[violentdeliiights]

my baby

eek this is my first time properly writing for ghost gasp

this was supposed to just be a quick little drabble but i kind of got into the writing mood and couldn’t stop

also disclaimer i have never first hand played the games, but i’ve watched friends and family play them so any inaccuracies please ignore!

cw: details of car accident, hospitals, angst, female reader (i think that’s all pls let me know if there are others)

word count: 1.8k - not proofread, ignore any mistakes thank youuu

Simon could feel something was wrong.

Something in his bones, a rippling wave of nausea, a shift in the breeze on the back of his neck.

The other lads had always made a joke of his seemingly supernatural levels of superstition, how he was able to almost always accurately predict when or if something was going to go wrong.

Information had been from a dodgy source? Simon had guessed from the way Gaz had dropped his mug of coffee that morning.

One of their safe houses was infiltrated? Yeah, he’d known something was coming after Soap had stubbed his little toe getting out of bed and they’d heard the Scot’s high-pitched swearing from the mess hall.

They were being ambushed whilst on a seemingly harmless mission? You guessed it, Lt. Simon Riley had warned them in the helo the day before that Price’s favourite hat going missing was a sign.

One thing about Simon- he never, ever ignored his intuition.

So the forlorn look on Price’s face as he approached Simon’s hulking frame in the gym caused his stomach to drop. He’d been stood supervising Gaz and Soap training the newbies when that god awful sensation washed over him- and now he could tell Price was going to confirm that feeling.

Turning to face the Captain when he reached his side, Simon nodded out of respect, “Cap’n”.

The sigh that he received in response only made his stomach plummet further.

“Simon,”

Price never called him by his first name. Only ever Lieutenant or Ghost.

Something was really wrong.

“…it’s your girl. She’s in a bad way.”

✯ ✯ ✯

Unlike your husband, you’d never been one for superstition. All those things online about a woman’s intuition made you feel slightly out of the loop- you don’t think you’d ever predicted something bad before it happened.

In some ways you were thankful; you never lived with the lingering sense of dread and suspicion that Simon seemed to. You’d never woken up filled with anxiety over something that was a possibility.

However, in some ways, it was a curse. Every bad thing that had ever happened to you or your loved ones seemed to blindside you. Breakups, whilst sometimes predictable, had always gutted you in a deep, physical way. Betrayal, death, accidents, injuries. They all seemed to hit you deeper when you never saw them coming.

Being stabbed in the back hurts worse when you can’t see the knife coming.

That was why that morning had felt like just another Thursday. Your normal day to go food shopping, knowing the supermarket would be relatively quiet and that you would need to stock up for the weekend when Simon tended to snack like nobody’s business.

You had just packed up the car with the bags, pulling out of the car park and onto the large roundabout the led onto the main road.

Just like every other time you’d made the trip.

Only, those other times didn’t include a huge Land Rover who hadn’t seen you in your tiny Volkswagen Beetle- the one your husband had bought you when you’d told him it was your dream car as a little girl.

The Rover pulled out just as you passed him, driving head first into the passenger’s side and sending your car spinning, careening out of control and straight into a sign post on the other side of the road, tipping the car onto its side.

The accident had happened at such a speed that you hadn’t even mentally understood what was happening before your eyes closed involuntarily, shards of glass from the smashed windshield and doors littering your skin, your chest rising and falling at a rapid rate, cuts all over your body and your seatbelt digging painfully into you.

Your last thought before your body shut down was the face of the man you loved.

✯ ✯ ✯

Simon had never driven as fast in his life.

He was well over the speed limit, his foot on the accelerator almost parallel to the floor.

The hour drive to the hospital from the base took him 25 minutes.

He hadn’t even bothered with a response when Price had informed him of which hospital you were in, Gaz and Soap only looking up from their training when they heard the door slam after him, the gym feeling slightly colder than it had minutes prior.

He had no doubt that the rest of the task force wouldn’t be far behind him: you had become somewhat of a staple around the base over the years, bringing the boys hot meals, helping with odd jobs, making sure they were all taking care of themselves.

Sometimes, Soap would come to you with his issues instead of Ghost- that was when you knew your husbands colleagues were more than just colleagues. You had been welcomed into their little dysfunctional family.

Throwing his car into the first parking space he found, Simon stormed into the reception area, his aura more that of Ghost than Simon with the palpable anger and tension radiating off of him. The elderly receptionist seemed to cower in his shadow looming over the desk, ignoring the funny and fearful looks he got from the rest of the waiting area as he barked out your name.

“R-room 414, pet,” He made a mental note to thank the woman a bit more softly and charged his way down the hall to the stairwell. The lift would only hinder him and he knew fine well he would run up a million flights of stairs to get to you. Hell, he’d scale Everest blindfolded. Wrangle the moon with a rope. Anything. For you.

After reaching the fourth floor, he flung the door stairwell door open and began his search for you, scouring each and every door number until he found it

Despite his earlier efforts to get to you as quickly as possible, he felt himself take a shuddering breath before he dared to enter- he had no idea what he was walking into. The only information Price had been given was that you’d been hospitalised a handful of hours ago. It was harder to reach a next of kin who worked on a military base, apparently.

When his eyes landed on you in that hospital bed, the only thing keeping his legs from giving way beneath him was the thought of getting to you.

Your usually glowing face was pale and sunken. Your lovely rosy cheeks he loved to pepper with kisses were hidden beneath tubes and cuts. A bandage wrapped around your head skewed your hair from his sight. The feeling of seeing you lying there, helpless, relying on machines to keep you going was so much worse than any bad intuition he’d ever felt before.

He would swap places with you in a heartbeat. No physical pain would ever compare with the utter devastation he was experiencing. His heart was no longer in his own chest, but lying battered and bruised in a hospital bed attached to machines.

His large hands swept delicately over the side of your head, “My baby,” his voice wavered, heavy with fear, “My sweet girl. What happened to you, baby?”

The taste of salt on his lips was his only sign that he was crying.

Big, bad, Lieutenant Simon Riley. Ghost. His name drove terror into the hearts of men across the globe.

Reduced to tears at the sight of you.

His knees hit the floor by your bedside, both of his hands delicately cupping your bruised face, “Come back to me, baby. You promised forever, yeah? I’m holding you to that,” A quiet sob ripped from his throat before he could control it, pressing a delicate kiss to your cheek and moving to bury his head in your stomach to muffle any more sobs.

Simon had no idea how long he had been sat slumped over you, still on his knees yet not willing to leave your side for more than a second to grab a chair. He would never let you out of sight again. Judging by the fact that the sky was significantly darker by the time he heard the door open, he could tell he’d been here for a while. Jerking his slumped head up to the door, he left out a silent breath of relief when a familiar face appeared with a sorrowful smile.

“Hey, Si. How’s our bonnie lass?” To Soap, you had been their girl since the moment Simon had introduced you to the group. His best friend- second only to your husband.

When Simon said nothing, only looked at him in silent despair and flickered his eyes back to you, Soap pushed open the door and revealed the other two men stood patiently behind him. Filtering into the room, both Gaz and Price removed their hats in respect as the three of them came to stand by your bedside but Simon couldn’t remove his eyes from you. His baby. His sweet, funny, intelligent girl.

“Hope you don’t mind, LT- we found ‘er doctor a bit ago, asked ‘im what happened, thought we’d give you some space,” Price’s voice had never been so soft, so cautious not to disturb the sullen atmosphere of the room, “Said she’d been in a car accident. Some idiot had pulled out on her, thankfully on the passenger side so she avoided the brunt of it,”

“They’ve said to let her rest, should hopefully come round in a bit, but she’s gonna be sore for a while,” Gaz finished Price’s explanation as gently as he could, knowing his LT’s tendency to become protective and hostile at the flip of a switch.

“She’ll be just fine, Si. Just needs her beauty sleep.” Even Soap’s usual humour couldn’t calm Simon. Someone had done this to you. You were in her because of the careless mistake of someone else.

He wouldn’t leave your side. Never again.

✯ ✯ ✯

Price had managed to coax Ghost into a chair before they’d left to return to base, hoping to save his knees and back but allowing him to stay with you.

Simon had resumed his previous place of laying his head gently on your stomach, clutching the hand closest to him in both of his.

At some point, the utter terror he had been feeling since the minute he saw Price’s face that afternoon caught up with him and he had passed out, still clutching your hand.

The feeling of gentle fingers weaving into his hair was what stirred Simon from a dreamless sleep, confusedly lifting his head to see you looking down at him with a pained smile when you caught sight of his red-rimmed eyes. The only time you’d seen your husband shed a tear was at your wedding.

His mouth dropped open slightly as he took in your eyes. Your beautiful, open, awake eyes. He’d never take those eyes for granted ever again.

“My baby.”

[softness-and-shattering]

If you want to sell fanfic, it MUST be from something in the public domain. Thats what public domain means, no one owns it/we all collectively own it, so anyone can make money off it. Go get into and write fic for Dracula, Sherlock Holmes and sell it all you like.

Eveything else comes under copyright which means the original creator and people they allow are the only ones who can make money off it. Thats the reason you cant talk about money or commissions on a03. Thr only reason we get away with fic at all is becausr we arent making money. Otherwise its illegal, and its a law they can and do enforce. This isnt be gay do crimes, this is behave othrrwise everything could be deleted, it HAS happened before and its why ao3 exists the way umit does now.

What you CAN do, if you hsve a novel length work you would really like to publish, is what peoppe call "filing off the serial numbers". You edit ti remove all traces of the original media. You change names, you might need to change characters or locations around a bit, you might need to rework a magic system so its different from the source material but still does what you need it to do. This isnt an extensive or accurate list its what I know anecdotally. Probably a literary agent or someone familiar with copyrught law could tell you how distinct to make it.

50 shades was twilight fanfic, but the characters arent edward and bella. Think about what makes them different so that 50 shades could be piblished asnits own thing. Maybe other people can add examples bc I cant think of any others rn. Wizard of oz and wicked maybe, idk if oz is public domain.

Our fandom forbearers did NOT suffer through Anne Rice, strikethrough, and other bullshit for fucking ACOTAR and Harry Potter fans to fucking ruin it for all of us by selling fanfiction. I am not losing novel length yaoi epics because some of you don't know how to act in fannish spaces and yes I do blame the booktokification of fanfic but I also blame those of you that treat fandom like content to consume and not a community to engage with.

[datapacks]

Snapshot 25w02a

Mostly just summarizing this from the article on minecraft.net, but:

New pigs. There are now cold and warm pigs!

New "pink petals" style blocks, for leaves on the ground as well as a new "wildflower" yellow flower.

Leaf piles can be made from smelting leaves, and can be used as a fuel source.

All leaf blocks now generate particles under them.

Yes that includes, for some reason, spruce leaves. They all also share a texture, tinted differently based on biome tint, seemingly.

The new pigs babies are based on the parents, not the biome.

Lodestones have a new crafting recipe, using iron instead of netherite! This makes them much more obtainable.

New sounds for iron blocks.

Zombified Piglins nerfed for farms heavily, must be killed by players.

Farm animals can spawn in badlands!

Bubble columns more optimized.

The pale gardens are now larger, and can generate woodland mansions!

Creakings can be nametagged, making them persist during the day! Apparently, if they're stuck with a player, they will still despawn, as well as if they get too far away from their heart, but still a nice change. Nametagged creakings are still resistant to damage and such too.

Creaking Hearts now have a new texture during the day.

The creaking heart & eye blossoms now use fixed time, as opposed to being effected by the weather / dimension brightness.

These are all the changes that most players will be excited about, but I'm going to put the more technical stuff that I usually focus on in a readmore so I can get this out sooner!

THE PIGS ARE DATA-DRIVEN. YOU CAN ADD YOUR OWN PIGS.

Tamed animals can now be owned by other entities than players.

Text components now use SNBT instead of JSON. This might have some neat ramifications, but we'll see. Might make text components more powerful, like variable text in books.

Fill / Clone / Setblock commands can now surpress block updates, giving massive new options to builders who use commands.

New "weapon" item component, makes making weapons easier than before, + shield negating can be applied to any item now with this data change.

"potion_duration_scale" component, which heavily hints that we may finally be getting data-driven potions very soon. This is basically how the game would normally handle "extend this potion, make it shorter if its a splash potion, shorter even more if its a tipped arrow"

"tool" component, allows players to specify whether a tool should be able to break blocks in creative mode, like how swords cannot.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Basics: Descriptive Verbs

A verb is a word that’s used to describe an action.

Descriptive verbs - (or strong verbs) are single-word actions that add to the tableau in the reader’s mind, giving it a boost of color and energy.

In many cases, an engaging, vivid verb is more concise and telling than a straightforward, overused one.

The man ran quickly toward the smoke, versus 

The man sprinted toward the smoke.

Weak verbs are simply common ones—words that describe the bare minimum of the action. Sometimes that’s the best way to keep your writing clean and direct, but it can also lead to a lack of color, or personality.

Types of Descriptive Verbs

The most powerful verbs evoke imagery and emotion in the action of the verb itself. A dog doesn’t just eat its food—it gobbles it. The glass doesn’t just break—it shatters.

Questions to consider when replacing your verbs:

Verbs of movement: Movement is especially ripe for descriptive words. Movements communicate how your characters feel, what they want, and how they present themselves to the world. Is your character merely walking along from point a to b? Or do they project more attitude with a saunter or perhaps swagger? Are they in a skipping mood? These movement verbs can also denote a sense of place, and urgency: Depending on the terrain, perhaps they plod through mud or stagger over jagged rocks. Suspicious characters might slink away into the darkness, or scamper just out of reach.

Verbs of stillness: In real life, stillness is never entirely devoid of movement, and is equally revealing. A nervous character doesn’t merely sit, they perch on the edge of their seat. A rude character might slouch in their chair. A character who has just received terrible news may slump on the couch.

Verbs for speech and expression: With dialogue attribution, you could write an entire novel using only “said,” without having to resort to more descriptive verbs like “shouted,” “cried,” or “whimpered.” The best answer is a balance: try to keep your language from jarring the reader out of the story, but considering your character’s intent when searching for the right descriptive verb in dialogue also allows you to quickly deliver more information to the reader. When is a laugh so cruel it becomes more of a snicker, or so unguarded it bursts forth as a guffaw? Muttering a word under the breath might be a sign of dissent, while a whimper is one of surrender. Create volume in your dialogue by introducing sound-oriented synonyms, like whispers or shouts.

When to Use Descriptive Verbs

The best verbs help you hone your prose to give you the effect you wish to achieve. Think about the tone do you want to set—what feelings or mood do you want to evoke? What kind of language will best deliver the story you want to tell?

Reading your work aloud is an excellent way to both hear the sonic effects of your prose and catch awkward repeated sounds or other unintended effects. Read through your writing and make a note of where things feel too slow, or stale.

Where are the moments where your prose stalls out? Highlight all the verbs you’ve used in that section and find stronger words to heighten the tension or enhance the mood of the scene.

Reasons to Use Descriptive Verbs in Writing

Using descriptive verbs is especially useful when considering pacing; active verbs help anchor your writing in the present tense, contributing to the exciting (or suspenseful, emotional, moody, exuberant) tone you might be going for.

Weak verbs, in general, are often supported by adverbs of manner (those descriptive words that end in “-ly”). Good descriptive verbs rid your sentences of the need for too many adverbs, and can also keep state-of-being verbs (like am, is, are, and was, which lead to passive voice) in check.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[ranchstoryblog]

Fandom Memories: HMFarm

Hmmm. So, nearly a quarter of you whippersnappers wanna hear about the good ol' days, huh? Well, back in the day, you wouldn't just hang out on one or two big websites to try to find people who shared your niche interests among a million random users. Everything had its own dedicated site, with its own special pack of weirdos that you probably wouldn't find anywhere else. Home grown fandom, sprouting from the cement sidewalks of the freshly paved internet like so many weeds with pretty little flowers on top. So, let's take a little stroll down memory lane and visit one of the oldest fan sites with Archive.org's "Wayback Machine."

Ahh, just like I remember it. This here is "Harvest Moon Farm." 'course, we just called it HMFarm, like the URL did. This used to be the place to be. The prime progenitor of all farmin' fansites in the English speaking community. Maybe not the literal first, but up until around 2005, this was where you would go if you wanted to know anythin' about digital farmin'. It truly was a magical place to visit.

This screenshot isn't the oldest design, but it's the one I fondly remember. The majority of my time using the site was during the lead-up to A Wonderful Life, which was probably also when it was the most active as an information source. Seeing the screenshots, checking the forums, speculatin', wonderin', dreamin'... It's a warm feeling. I can't really describe how it felt to look at these shots for the first time. Granted, they were mostly sourced from various places like IGN or Newtechnix, but who wanted to go to THOSE messy sites when all the info I wanted was right here? IGN wasn't telling me how to revive the Vineyard in Harvest Moon 64 while I was waiting for AWL news either.

Our first look at the character we would come to know as Muffy, the sheer novelty of being able to go into the townsfolk's glorious, 3D-rendered rooms, the apparent misidentification of flowering tomatoes... The webmaster, Gamergirl87, would caption each one as well. Some of the captions of those screenshots ended up not being exactly true, but it was the closest thing to on-going coverage we really had. Who else was there to trust?

It's a little off topic, but I think at one point after learning about the GBA connectivity, I must have dreamed about this very gallery and seeing a screenshot of a Gamecube-ized Popuri with the caption that Mineral Town villagers would visit after connecting the GC and GBA together. At least, I'm pretty sure it was a dream. I've met some people who claim they saw the same thing, but none of us have been able to find that screenshot or comment again.

The one that would most catch my attention was the one on the left here. I didn't have a PlayStation 2, so I was coming fresh off of the GameBoy and Nintendo 64 when going into A Wonderful Life. The pond, the mysterious glowing plants, the mood and ambiance of their lighting, the little tree on the door... Naturally, I mirrored it on my first day the remake was available.

It's a real shame that the message boards are poorly preserved, since it doesn't look like there was a news post about the pre-order plush cow. I was hoping to find the name of whoever it was that convinced me to commit my first ever preorder. I still have the receipt, but without the forum post it's really only tangentially related to HM Farm.

'course, just learning about existing games and upcoming games wasn't the only good thing HM Farm was for. As I alluded to, there was a whole community here! While it's a shame that the message boards aren't well preserved by the Wayback Machine, you know what is?

The "ideas" list! This incredible time capsule was one of the first "interactive" parts of the site, starting in the year 2000. It's kind of fun to see how many of these ideas actually happened. Obviously, new characters and personalities were probably expected, but Animal Parade would eventually feature a honeymoon, several games have clothing and other customization, a mall, city, and pig would be added as soon as GBC 3, a goat would be in A Wonderful Life... It's actually amazing how prescient a lot of the suggestions are.

I'd share the whole thing, but the amount of e-mail addresses involved gives me pause. Still, there's a couple I wanna highlight:

Considering how often I still hear about people wanting to marry the moms and people attributing it to just "the fans getting older," it's funny to see Laserion lay out that, no, we've always been like this. Right down to using Manna's unhappy marriage and Lillia's husband never returning as valid reasons they should be available.

Tuan145, on the other hand, I just find extremely amusing because of the specific "2002 Escalade" part. Yes, this is clearly the ideal vehicle for all farmers in the Story of Seasons universe. This is now accepted headcanon. The boat was added in GBC 3 too, so obviously a 2002 Escalade is going to be added any day now.

Another thing that's amazingly well preserved is the site's fan art section. There's a few missing images here and there, but for the most part the entire thing is open to explore. People of basically all ages and skill levels happily submitted their creations, including original characters, digital art, traditional art, crossovers with popular series like Sailor Moon, a liiittle bit of drug use... Y'know, all the kinds of things you'd expect to see in a fan art gallery of the day.

Even better, some of the artists are still doing art today! Looking around, I quickly discovered one of my favorites, Rina Cat, is now on Blue Sky. I made sure to ask for permission to repost their art before including it here. Reaching out to everyone would be a bit much though, so I'll just encourage you to just browse the gallery using the Wayback Machine yourself. There's poetry and fanfics too!

There's a lot more to the site, including useful bits of history like keeping track of release dates for games, pre-release screenshots, and information that was only available on Japanese websites at the time, but I'll leave it at that for now.

Unfortunately, though the site continued to be updated until 2010 and stayed online until 2021, it's no longer available on the regular internet and the URL doesn't seem safe to access anymore. I wanted to include an interview with the former webmaster as well, but all their readily available contact information was tied to the website and I haven't had any luck so far in finding other means of contact. If I have any success, I'll be sure to make a follow-up! If you have any memories of HMFarm, or other fan sites, I'd be happy to hear about it.

[greenandsorrow]

Morning Wood.

rut!Alastor x gn!reader

☞ I had some leftover smut scenes from the first chapter of "The price for misbehaving" and so, I decided to combine them with a slightly different depiction of Alastor. He's all fuzzy, basically covered in deer fur -anthropomorphic animal vibes and not the cartoonish, bright red guy we all know!

☞ You don't need to have read the actual multi chap in order to enjoy and understand this. However, I did keep the rutting/mating season theme. I love it when fictional men act pathetic -and the fact that I'm the one determining that in my silly, not so little, fics.

☞ Lots of horniness and hormones. Pet names. Masturbation and a blowjob, but make it goofy and playful! The reader is full of sass. Alastor is eepy and needy. Pre-established relationship. You're his mate!

🪻

Alastor is a mess.

A mess of sharp edges.

And antlers.

Antlers that bear little nicks along their edges.

His wiry frame is covered in patches of scruffy fur that cling to his body in a disarray. It's a chaotic blend of rough textures and soft tufts. His chest and arms are a map of scars, faint reminders of a past that seems to be trying to hide beneath some of the fluffiest tufts.

His tail is twitching with restless energy.

Somewhere on the upper floors of the hotel, his bedroom is dimly lit, the only source of illumination coming from the radio dial of a fancy antique. Alastor is sitting perched on the edge of his bed, legs spread wide and claws digging into the mattress beneath him. His chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths.

The air is heavy with the dizzying scent of his rut.

He lets out a low growl, his usual composure cracked by the haze of primal need that's clouding his mind. His cock is already in his hand, long, throbbing and impossibly hard, with veins pulsing. The fur at its base is damp with sweat and precum. His heavy balls are drawn tight against his body.

Alastor squeezes the base of his cock and the sound that escapes him comes out unbidden, raw and guttural. He can feel it... The unbearable heat coursing through him, a wild and instinctual drive he can't suppress.

He pumps his shaft, slowly and deliberately at first, as he tries to maintain an ounce of control. But his rut isn't something he can just ignore... And soon his pace quickens, his hips bucking into his hand.

"F~ fffuck~" he hisses through gritted teeth, his free hand gripping his thigh -in an attempt to not tear the poor bedding. His thoughts are filled with glimpses of you... The way you tease him with that infuriating smirk, the way your hands feel on his chest, your breath ghosting over his neck.

It only makes things worse.

His cock twitches violently in his hand, precum running down the length in sticky lines. His clawed hand grazes the sensitive skin of his cock head just enough to sting, but the pain only spurs him on more.

"Why now?" he growls, his voice gravelly.

His tail thrashes behind him.

Alastor is imagining you beneath him, your hands exploring every inch of his furred body while your voice whispers filthy encouragements in his ear.

The thought alone sends him over the edge. With a strangled cry, his body tenses, his hips jerking forward as his release spills on his hand in thick, hot ropes. His vision blurs for a moment, the intensity of his orgasm leaving him trembling.

The room is now silent, save for the sound of his ragged breathing. Alastor slumps forward, claw still sticky and cock softening slowly. He grimaces, dragging a hand down his flushed face before letting out a defeated sigh.

"Disgraceful" he mutters to himself -though the shame is only fleeting. The rut isn't done with him yet and he knows it's only a matter of time before the unbearable ache returns.

Had you found him like that... What would have happened?

For now, though, he allows himself a moment of tranquility.

You said it'll only be four days... He can go four days without you, right? Pfft. Sure, he can. That was literally day two.

The morning light filters through opac curtains and the hotel fills with the familiar sounds of its guests going about their day.

Alastor stirs on the couch, his lanky frame sprawled across the cushions, tail twitching lazily. He lets out a small groan, rubbing at his chest absentmindedly.

The Radio Demon is practically draped across the couch like he invented the concept of fatigue. His shirt is half-tucked, the fabric wrinkled like he's been sleeping in it for days. His legs dangle off the arm of the sofa, one hoof idly moving to some rhythm only he can hear. His hair sticks out in every direction, defying both gravity and logic.

That's when he feels it.

"Oh, dear" he mutters, blinking, as he shifts his hips and feels the unyielding pressure against the front of his slacks. His cock, half-hard when he fell asleep, is now achingly stiff...

Alastor gives an exasperated sigh, though it is also tinged with some embarrassment. He shifts his long legs awkwardly, but the motion only heightens the friction, earning an involuntary hiss from him.

"Of all the things to wake up to" he says under his breath, voice carrying its usual cadence despite the situation.

One hand is already slithering near his waist before he thinks better of it... But he decides to resist.

It's no use.

His cock throbs, demanding attention, the weight of his balls adding to the torture. Alastor whines softly, while his tail is moving erratically against the cushions of the couch.

That's the sight you walk in on -Alastor spread on the couch, red-faced and visibly aroused, brows furrowed in sleepy distress. You lean against the doorway, taking a moment to soak in the ridiculousness of it all.

"Well, good morning to you too, sunshine." you begin, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I see you've got a… pressing issue in your hands."

Alastor's head snaps up, his wide eyes widening even more. He had forgotten it was today you were coming back.

"Wha-?!", he struggles to sit up.

You toss a pillow at him. He doesn't dodge -it smacks him in the chest and he groans theatrically, clutching it like it has wounded him mortally.

"Careful!" he pouts, half-lidded eyes gazing at you under messy bangs. "I'm already frightfully weak. Don't make it worse."

You rollyour eyes. "You're always weak when you want something, Al. So spit it out. What do you need?"

Alastor stretches, the movement languid and a bit too purposeful as his shirt rides up, exposing his lean, scarred stomach and the dip of his hip bones.

"Well", he drawls in a tone full of fake innocence, "since you're offering…"

He really is weak.... He hates but simultaneously loves how lust dictates his decisions.

His ears flatten against his head, hands moving to shield himself, though it does little to mask the twitching outline beneath the thin fabric of his slacks.

"Relax." you say, stepping closer with an amused smirk. "It's nothing I haven't seen before. Though, I'll admit… you look particularly needy this morning."

"I- I wasn't expecting company s- so soon again..." he stammers, his usual smoothness nowhere to be found as his tail continues to flick nervously behind him.

You raise a brow, letting your gaze drift deliberately downward.

"Clearly. But hey, I'm here now, so why don't I help you… ease into your morning?"

It's obscene, the way his cock is straining against the fabric like it is fighting to break free. The outline is clear -a fat dick, slightly curved and frankly, too big for him to be this embarrassed about it. His trousers don't stand a chance... The poor button at the top looks like it's holding on for dear life.

"Wow" you observe, crossing your arms. "When you called to say you were 'resting', I didn't realize you meant that. I guess you really were up all night."

His lips part in protest, but the words get caught in his throat when you kneel between his legs, smiling up at him.

"Don't act so shocked... You always do that." you tease, dragging your palms up his hairy thighs. "Y'know Alastor, you look like you could use a hand -or a mouth."

"Y- You are positively scandalous" he manages out, though his voice wavers -probably from the excruciating anticipation for your touch.

"Yeah, yeah" you quip, tugging at the waistband of his slacks. "Now shut up and let me work."

He can't help but make a strangled, static-laced whine at your order.

The moment his cock springs free, it hits his stomach with a thud, the thick shaft flushed and throbbing with need. A soft, furry, happy trail goes down till the base -where his balls rest against the couch, each movement causing them to shift enticingly.

You let out a low whistle, leaning in close. "Well, aren't you a pretty buck."

"This whole ordeal is utterly flawed!"

"Oh, I wouldn't use that word. It's more like an opportunity."

Alastor's right ear twitches at that, his breath ragged. "A- An opportunity for what, exactly?"

Grinning wickedly, you answer. "To see just how needy the great Alastor can get."

Alastor freezes... like a deer caught in headlights, the eternal grin faltering. He shifts his limbs, trying to compose himself, but there's no hiding it -there he is, the Radio Demon, infamous and terrifying… now looking like prey that has wandered into a very compromising situation.

And oh, is it compromising.

Your newly acquainted mate's cheeks flush a deeper crimson, his grin stretching unnaturally wide in a desperate attempt to assert himself. "Ah, well, you see- It's not- !"

"Save it. You're not fooling anyone, stag boy. Look at you... All scruffy and needy... Rocking an erection on your favourite vintage couch."

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I- I assure you, it's entirely… involuntary!"

"Yeah?" you quirk an eyebrow, letting your hand trail up his chest and then back down his stomach, relishing in the feel of his muscles clenching underneath your fingertips.

"Sh- shocking behavior! I- I don't know what you're-"

"Alastor" you cut him off sharply. "Stop talking."

He did.

The trembling demon's shaft isn't just stiff -it's... raging, twitching as if annoyed that it's not already getting attention. And oh, the head. Flushed an angry red, it's bulbous, slick with an impossible amount of precum that's dripping lazily down the sides. It is cartoonishly swollen to say the least.

"Good lord. How can you always wake up like this?"

Alastor squirms, his grin trembling. "I- I am a creature of many talents, my dear!"

His hand grips the armrest of the couch so tightly that the fabric starts to fray.

"Right" you mutter, your fingers finally wrapping around him. The moment you touch him, he lets out a static-filled gasp and the hotel's lights all flicker, his whole body jerking as though he hasn't been touched in centuries. It's been four days.

His cock is hot to the touch. The contrast between the smooth head and the slightly fuzzy base is oddly satisfying under your palm. You give him a little squeeze. He twitches violently in response, tail flicking and ears flattening again.

"Eager, huh?" you tease, stroking slowly. Alastor's sharp teeth clench, his head falling back against the couch as he lets out a broken groan.

"N- nothing like that! I- I'm always prepared!" he babbles, his voice breaking into static again.

"Sure, sure."

That earns you a petulant glare.

The smell of him -something earthy and musky- fills your senses. You let your tongue dart out, licking a stripe along the underside of his cock, slowly, tasting the salty precum that has been pooling at the tip.

Alastor lets out a sound that can only be described as pathetic, his sharp claws scratching the couch (aka the real victim) in a vain attempt to ground himself.

"Prepared?" you mock, your breath falling on his slick glans. "You're shaking like a leaf,u freckled sweetie. I'd say you're anything but prepared."

Alastor whimpers, an uncharacteristic noise for someone so smug. His deer tail is lashing furiously now, the coarse fur of his thighs brushing against you as he shifts in place.

You wrap your lips around him in one swift motion, taking him just far enough to feel the weight of him on your tongue. The ridges along his shaft catch against the wet heat of your mouth as you slide down his length. His claws dig into the couch, again.

He almost chokes... His grown antlers momentarily catch on the backrest. His chest is heaving.

Meanwhile, your lips remain around his hot cock. You hum, the vibration making him jerk so hard he nearly bucks into your mouth. He spills even more precum, coating your tongue.

Pulling back just enough to tease, you let your lips part with a wet pop, his shiny length gleaming.

His ears are still pinned back, his teeth biting into his lip as he struggles -and fails- to suppress a shuddering moan.

You don't wait for him to recover. Instead, you lower your mouth back onto him, taking him even deeper this time. His cock twitches and twitches, the veins pulsing against your tongue as you hollow your cheeks and suck hard.

"Ah- !", static again.

You pause to look up at him, his sweaty and flushed face making you feel oddly proud. Alastor's response to your simple gaze is a little pat on your head. He appreciates what you do, even if it brings him equal amounts of relief and torture.

An incoherent and strangled series of moans leave his open mouth as you work him over with a mix of slow strokes and hard sucks. His legs tense, the fur along his thighs bristling as he teeters on the edge.

"P- Please" he begs, his voice cracking in a way that makes heat pool in your stomach. His usual bravado has vanished completely, leaving him dazed, needy... and utterly at your mercy.

You hum again, the sound sending a shockwave through his body. His cock pulses hard in your mouth and you can feel him getting closer with every ragged breath and broken moan.

You shift your position on the rug slightly, your hand slipping lower to cup his balls. They are heavy and warm in your palm, fuzzy with coarse fur -like the rest of him. You give them a teasing squeeze. Alastor practically yelps, his thighs snapping shut for a moment before falling open again, leaving him vulnerable and exposed to you.

"Sensitive, aren't we?" you comment, rolling them gently between your fingers. His cock twitches violently in response, a bead of precum spilling onto your lips as you kiss the base of his shaft.

Alastor's hands claw at the couch helplessly, his sharp nails ripping the fabric. (🛋️RIP)

"I- I can't take this anymore!", his voice breaks into a high-pitched whine. His antlers clatter against the backrest, as his head tips back, neck taut and exposed.

"Oh, but you can, deer boy" you murmur, your voice sultry. "And you will."

As if spurred by your words, his hips jerk forward, his instincts betraying him. The movement is sudden, sharp and almost frantic, his cock sliding further into your mouth as he begins to rut against your face. His balls slap against your chin with each desperate thrust, their weight a reminder of just how pent-up he truly is when he's in musth.

"G- Goodness gracious, I- ah- oh my~!"

His fur bristles everywhere now -all over his back, his arms and chest- and his ears are spasming.

Static crackles in the air.

You tighten your grip on his base, your free hand moving to steady his hips.

"Easy there, mister buck" you say, pulling back just enough to catch your breath. "Getting ahead of yourself, don't you think?"

"F- forgive me... I really c- can't help it!" he stammers, eyes glazed over with a mix of embarrassment and raw, animalistic need. "You're- you're too good! And frankly, I missed you!"

You chuckle.

Then, you lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the very tip, savoring the way he shudders. "Oh, I know", you say smugly. "Now, be a good little deer and stay still, or I might stop altogether."

The threat makes him whine again, the sound almost pitiful -but he forces himself to stay still. His thighs tremble, the tension in his body visible.

Satisfied with his obedience, you take him back into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip before sliding down to the base. His hips twitch despite himself, his cock pulsing hard as you swallow him down.

His breathing grows extremely ragged.

"I- I'm... ah! I'm so close" he chokes out. His balls have drawn up tight against your palm, a telltale sign of his impending orgasm -making you moan around him.

Simply, that's enough.

With a desperate cry, Alastor comes undone, his cock throbbing violently as he spills into your waiting mouth. You swallow it, the salty heat flooding your senses as he slumps against the couch, his body trembling with aftershocks.

When you finally pull back, he is even more of a mess than you found him -his hair disheveled and wet, his chest heaving rapidly and his face flushed with a mix of exertion and satisfaction. You lick your lips, your eyes gleaming with mischief as you look up at him.

"Feeling better, bucko?" you ask, your tone smug but with an undertone of affection.

Alastor's ears rise on top of his head and he gives you a sheepish, toothy smile. "I… suppose you could say that", he admits, still breathless.

You laugh, the sound light.

You stand up and give his lips a peck."Good. You look cute like this... completely wrecked and at my mercy."

"The couch looks worse."

Thank you for reading!🪻

Support me further: ☞ PayPal link

~ My Hazbin Hotel masterlist ~

This work is part of the nymph's daily gifts! 💌

The dividers are by @saradika-graphics.

Tags; @stygianoir @aperfectidiot @lady-valtieri @what-0-life @clowncollegealum @whatinthepluto @dragonqueenfk @ajajajabdjsjx @ellie-x0xo @1rxsemary1 @ermmmwhattheflipguys @kimkimmm2411 @sukaretto-n @crowleysthings @ratskinsuit @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @ilikemyteawithmilk @dontevenknowwhyimhere @dennsfz @sirens-and-moonflowers @diffidentphantom @midorichoco @speedycoffeedelight @cinnamon-galaxies @kammsinn @chibistar45 @alastorthirsty @victias @mezzo-piano230 @shayshaymonyou @atlaloversblog @iheartalastor @mydickisjuicy @pinestwinssimp

[comvi]

notail-ed that dude thats driving me crazy. uhrm hes probably ordering a nice boba pudding drink or something

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XLIII)

Chapter 43: ‘The whole world depends on your pure eyes and all my blood flows into their gaze’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Some cuteness, some cuteness!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4472

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

The curve of your eyes winds around my heart, A round of gentleness and dance, Halo of time, night cradle and safe, And if I no longer know all that I’ve lived It’s that your eyes haven’t always seen me.

Leaves of day and foam of dew, Reeds of the wind, scented smiles, Wings shading the world of light, Boats brimming with sky and sea, Hunters of noise and sources of colour,

Scents bloomed from a brood of dawns That still rests on a bed of stars, As the day depends on innocence The whole world depends on your pure eyes And all my blood flows into their gaze.

Paul Eluard, Capitale de la douleur, 1929

Summer. Emerald waves tainted the sea with white foam. Warmth. Rest. Vacations. Rain…

… it was Galway, after all, rain was never far away.

Andrew was getting frustrated. He was so excited to go on this vacation with you, you had spent so much time planning, and talking about it, and awaiting this trip…

… and now it was raining. It was cold. You were lost. In the middle of fucking nowhere. Stuck behind some bloody sheep…

Only in Ireland, really… It was fucking August, for God’s sake…

He heard you letting out a long exhale, feeling your frustration creeping through every corner of the car, your negative energy matching his.

He knew you would end up fighting. It didn’t happen often, but every couple fought from time to time. It had never been important, never been anything you couldn’t get passed in a matter of minutes. Your fights had always grown out of frustration over situations, like this one iteration of everything going wrong…

On the back seat, Elwood was growing restless. Andrew could hear its heavy breaths, the noise of his fur moving against the fabric of the seats. Even him was getting annoyed now.

“You should have turned left.”

There it was. Andrew knew you had longed to voice that sharp remark. To be fair, you were right, he was the one who had insisted to turn right at a previous intersection, hence getting the three of you lost.

He was not in the mood to be a reasonable adult and recognising his wrongs though.

“Next time, you’ll drive, so you can take all the bad decisions, and I can do the blaming. You had the map…”

“We have a fucking GPS…”

“Which is not currently working in this godforsaken land…”

“And I told you to turn left, and you didn’t listen!”

“Again, just take the fucking wheel then!”

You exchanged a glare, your eyes sparkling with thunder, before you huffed and looked at the time on your phone.

“We won’t catch the ferry. We should turn back.”

“We can still catch it.”

“It’s leaving in less than half an hour…”

“We can still catch it.”

“Andrew! We have no fucking clue where we are! We’re stuck behind those bloody sheep! We will not make it to the ferry, so let’s just… go back to the house.”

“You’re getting defeated…”

“No, I’m realistic. We’ll never get there on time, and especially not with these bloody sheep!”

“And what am I supposed to do about it?!”

You stared at each other for a moment. And then you did something Andrew had not predicted.

You unfastened your seat belt, opened the car door, and left.

You climbed out of the car, forcefully slammed the door shut. And you started walking across the road, walking ahead without so much as a glance in his direction. You had barely managed a few steps that you were already soaked.

As he stared at you walking under the rain, walking away from the car, walking away from him, all traces of anger left Andrew’s body. Instead, an old fear came back, raging, blurring his world for a second.

You were leaving…

In the span of a handful of seconds, mere seconds, his brain raced to the worst scenario possible. His thoughts stopped being logical and were filled with his worst fear instead.

You were sick of him. You regretted moving in with him. You wanted your ex back all over again. You would have been happier with Frank than with him. You were leaving, dumping his arse, it was over…

God… how could he survive that? You were… you were… he couldn’t…

But then you did turn around.

“ANDREW! HELP ME OUT FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

He frowned, unable to move.

“ANDY! COME HELP ME OUT!”

That was when he finally realised what you were doing. You weren’t leaving. You weren’t walking out of his life. You weren’t breaking up with him, you were…

He saw you moving your arms in the air, calling through the heavy rain towards the scattered sheep, and he finally understood that you were trying to gather them all on the side of the road, towards an open field.

He tried to regulate both his breathing and his heartbeat while he climbed out of the car, securing his coat around his frame to protect himself from the cold rain.

He was panicking over nothing. You weren’t leaving. You weren’t leaving. It was fine… he was fine… all fine…

He longed to hurry to you, but his body couldn’t. It was a strange mixture of tiredness, frustration, remnants of anger, and fear. Mostly fear.

He had to stop overthinking everything. You weren’t like that. You loved him, and he knew that, deep down… it was just difficult for him to believe he was that lucky sometimes. He couldn’t help it…

You turned to him as he approached.

“We need to get them out of the way,” you said, your voice still shaking with anger.

You were visibly surprised when he wrapped his arms around you, held you in a fragile embrace. He felt you instantly relaxing, your body growing numb into his arms as you reached up to hold him as well.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” you mumbled under your breath, although you were still frustrated.

“I’m sorry too.”

“We should go back.”

“I’m sorry. You were excited about this trip.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“It is though.”

“It’s okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.”

You didn’t hesitate a second to say it back, to pick up on one of his pet names again. And he ought to stop overthinking everything, but he couldn’t…

“Let’s go back to the car. You’re soaked, love. You’ll catch your death. Come on,” he prompted you towards the car, and you followed him.

Andrew made a U-turn, drove back to the small cottage-like house you were renting during your two weeks in Galway. The drive back was quiet, but the silence was comfortable and warm again. All traces of frustration seemed to have disappeared from your features by the time you reached the cottage. It had stopped raining too, so you didn’t get even more drenched as you walked from the car to the front door.

You heaved a relieved sigh as you stepped inside the warm house, you wiggled happily as you took off your coat.

“We can try to get to the ferry again tomorrow,” Andrew started, his tone cautious.

You surprised him with a shrug.

“We could. We’ll see.”

“I thought you wanted to…”

“Andy… it’s alright. I don’t care. Don’t overthink this. It’s just an afternoon, it was just an activity. We can stay here today, relax, enjoy each other’s company. I don’t mind if we don’t go see the Arans. I don’t mind at all. I promise.”

Andrew forced his shoulders to relax.

“We can still go later this week.”

You nodded, a playful glimmer shining in your eyes.

“Although, next time, we’ll turn left,” you quipped, teasing him while gently pinching his side.

He rolled his eyes, but a smile was back on his lips. If you were joking around, it meant that you weren’t mad. Good… that was good…

“You should take a shower, love. You’re freezing,” Andrew spoke in a quiet, warm voice, the one he knew always soothed you. He let his knuckles brush the sharper edge of your cheekbone, hated the coldness of your skin, longed for you to be warm and content again.

You nodded, taking off your jumper and wet jeans as you made your way to the bathroom.

“Actually, I think I’ll take a bath. We can take our time today, relax.”

You turned around, tilted your head a little in a tempting way as you spoke again. Andrew was having a hard time looking at your eyes instead of the length of your naked legs…

“Want to join me?” you smiled.

He gave you a suggestive look.

“In the bath? Or in bed?”

You bit down on your lower lip, and Andrew was gone for good. God, you had him wrapped around your finger… were you aware of the extent of his need for you?

“Hmm… bed first, then a bath? After all, we did fight… Some make-up sex is in order, no?”

He hummed, nodding his head as he walked closer to you. This time he didn’t refrain his urge to let his gaze travel down your legs, marvelling at their perfect curves, his fingers tingling already at the thought of touching them, feeling the softness of your skin, your warmth spread through his palms…

When he stopped, right before you, and looked up at your eyes again, there was something inviting in your gaze. He knew this look very well by now. It was the one that granted silent permission, the one that said I want you too, you can touch me…

His heart swelled at the thought that you were granting him the right to be this close to you now. That you were allowing him, even inviting him, to touch you. To kiss you. To worship your body… and he would. For the coming hour, he planned to do nothing but worship you, in the hopes that you would read in his adoration how much he loved you. How much he cared. How much he needed you.

You were staring right into his eyes as your hands slowly rose to his chest, as you peeled his cardigan off his body. There was so much tension in the air then, electric, as heavy as your stammering breaths, while you slowly unfastened the buttons of his white shirt. One button at a time. At an excruciatingly slow pace…

He let you do it though, do as you pleased with him. He loved it, the way you were setting a pace now. The way you were taking control. There was a quiet tenderness in each of your touches that told him he was safe with you, that you would never do him harm, that he could lay his heart, his body, his life into your hands, and despite that power over him, you wouldn’t destroy him.

He needed to stop overthinking everything…

He helped you slide his shirt off his shoulders, let you rest your palms on his undershirt, one hand on of each of his breasts.

“I love you.”

He grinned at the tender confession.

“I love you too.”

When you reached up to kiss him, it felt like breathing after a lifetime without air, like relief, like being alive…

At last… at fucking last…

This ought to be heaven.

After your pleasurable reconciliation, you opted to take a bath together. An hour spent in pleasure was incredible, but also exhausting, and both of you longed for rest now. Sharing a bath offered the warmth and quiet perfect for your tired bodies, and the intimacy you both craved after sex.

Andrew smiled at the memory.

Incredible sex, actually…

You heaved a content sigh as you readjusted your head against his shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. His brain was fuzzy with a happy static, the kind he had never experienced before. A strange sense of peace, contentment, happiness… but that felt better than all of that combined. He couldn’t explain it. He felt it only with you, that was for sure…

“Your skin is so soft,” he mused, trailing his fingers across your waist and hip, speaking without thinking.

It felt so soothing to have you in his arms like this. There was something grounding, reassuring, and delightfully vulnerable in lying here with you, naked, sharing a bath and cuddling. You seemed to have a special power, one that made his busy brain grow quiet.

You chuckled at his words, kissed his chest as a reward.

“Yours is soft too,” you nodded, caressing his chest as if to stress your words.

Andrew shifted his legs, unfolding them to prop his feet on the edge of the bathtub, making the water and its bubbles shift with his movements. You had added some scented salts, and he liked it. It was soothing. It felt so nice.

Loving you was so good…

You giggled, making him look at you again.

“God… even this gigantic bathtub is too small for you…”

He laughed then, bright and happy with your teasing. He wiggled his toes for good measure, making you break into laughter once more.

“Can’t help it,” he shrugged.

“I love that about you. That you’re really tall.”

“Do you, now?”

You hummed in response.

“It’s sexy.”

He chuckled, his cheeks turning a brighter shade of pink.

“Oh… so I’m sexy?”

He wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh.

“Of course you are,” was your only answer, offered as if it was obvious.

Sometimes he forgot that you loved him this way. Like it was easy. Like there was nothing more natural in the world. That was how he felt for you; loving you felt as natural as filling his lungs with air, blinking at the bright sun, moving his leg over yours in bed. It was easy. Obvious. Ineffable.

You said that you felt like that, too. If it were a truth, it was a hard one to believe in. He wanted to though, longed for the safety of certainty.

He looked up at the ceiling, let out a long exhale as you nuzzled into his neck again, ran your fingers across his chest in such a soothing way, he almost closed his eyes.

He needed to stop overthinking this. You were here, in his arms, naked, loving him… it ought to be proof enough that you truly wanted him.

This fear he had felt in the car, seeing you walk away, this… uncontrollable dread that you could leave… He had to stop thinking about it, but he couldn’t.

What if you left?

He tried to picture his life without you in it. There would still be Elwood, his parents, his brother, Alex, his friends, his classes, his writing, music, poetry. He could find someone else, eventually. He hated every part of it…

When he pictured you in the same scenarios, everything seemed brighter. His life was better simply because you were in it. He tried to think of his life in a year, in five years, in ten years, in sixty years… Every time the life he wanted had you in it. He couldn’t picture a future that was happy without you being a part of it.

He had never felt like that before. Even with Sam. He had thought he would always love her, and yet, there were bits of his life that he didn’t picture her into. He could imagine living on his own, he could imagine his career, his friends, his family… without Sam in it, and still be content.

Not with you. All these lonesome pictures felt wrong. You were missing…

He thought of his life, the one that awaited him, that laid at his feet, and he didn’t want to live it without you.

“What are you thinking about?”

Your voice was quiet, warm. When he looked down at you again, if there was puzzlement in your gaze, there was infinite tenderness too.

He wanted this to last forever. You. Him. Forever…

He never wanted this to end. And somehow, he just knew then. That the reason why he couldn’t picture a happy life without you, was simply because you were the one for him. You were the love of his life. And his heart would always be yours.

He thought he would be scared by such a realisation, but he wasn’t. He reckoned the feelings had been in his heart for too long, had become a part of him. He was simply putting words on what he felt. You were the love of his life. He was so happy it was you…

He wanted to believe that you felt the same, but he wasn’t sure. It was okay. One day, perhaps, he would be. If he loved you for long enough, if he let you love him fully, perhaps, one day, he would stop being afraid of losing you.

Instead of answering by any of these thoughts, he cupped your cheek, gave you a tender smile.

“Nothing important. I love you, that’s all.”

Andrew was on the porch, you could hear him play the guitar. A soft melody you didn’t know, perhaps it was his own. You encouraged him to write full songs, but he kept on claiming he didn’t really want to. Poetry was enough. Music was enough. The two entities didn’t need to mingle. Sometimes he did play some guitar, hummed a melody to match one of his poems. Which you called ‘writing a song’, but he called it ‘exploring a theme through different media’. You rolled your eyes at him every time.

After the heavy rains of the afternoon, the evening was sunny and surprisingly warm. Outside, the sun was setting, kissing the hills goodbye as it lingered on their tops, flashing its golden hues into the sky before it would grow dark. You walked out with a cup of warm tea in each of your hands, took a moment to watch the beautiful colours in the sky, all golden and orange fading into red. It was quiet, you had rented a small house as an AirBnB in the country side, and there was no one around. Your closest neighbours owned a farm about a kilometre away, the road leading to the cottage was rarely used. You let your eyes travel across the fields, the green of grass, the deeper shades of bushes, the winding lines of stone walls. It was magical, in a way. There was something anchoring to this land, that made you feel like you belonged there.

The soft melody resumed on Andrew’s guitar, you turned to him. Elwood was lying at his feet with his eyes closed, but the movement of his tail told you he wasn’t asleep. Andrew was sitting on a wooden bench, right under the window of the kitchen, his legs stretched before him and taking up the whole width of the porch. His fingers danced on strings, he was humming every now and then. His notebook was by his side, open on a page stained with black ink. It was the notebook you had offered him the previous year, for his birthday. He never went anywhere without it. He seemed so peaceful, a content smile tugging at his lips. His long hair was tight in a messy bun, and he was gorgeous in an old pair of jeans and a blue plaid shirt, his skin and hair bathed in the golden light of the sinking sun. Beyond him, hills rolled, green and gorgeous. Andrew was all you could see.

You remained standing there, motionless, like a fool, staring at your partner with awe written all over your features. It was such a mundane, simple sight. And yet, it struck you then. The depth of your feelings for him, your longing for this never to end, for him never to leave.

It was silly… so silly… to realise that truth just by watching him, in casual clothes, playing mindless melodies on his guitar. And yet, that was the moment when you admitted to yourself that this was the life you wanted. You. Him. Forever. You never wanted this to end.

And God, he told you he loved you daily, showed it even more in a thousand actions and attentions he had for you each day. And yet, a part of you was still afraid he would leave, that you could lose him. What would you do without him?

You hadn’t noticed the music fading, too busy getting lost in the green of his eyes as he turned to you.

“You’re alright, love?” he asked, accent thick on his tongue with the fondness of his words, while he tilted his head.

You shook yourself, walked over to him.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m okay,” you smiled. “Made you some tea.”

“Oh, thanks!”

He accepted the cup you offered, moved his notebook so you could sit by his side. You didn’t mean to pry, you knew Andrew would not want you to read his writing unless he offered to tell you about it, so you looked away from the notebook as soon as you caught the title of his new poem.

That You Are.

“It’s about you,” he explained, noticing your glimpse at the notebook.

“I didn’t read…”

“I know. I trust you.”

You exchanged a smile.

“Are you really writing about me?” you asked, feeling shier now.

He chuckled, kissed your cheek.

“Who else could I write about? You’re my partner…” he answered, bending slightly in search of your gaze.

“I don’t know… your mistress…”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re right, she’s hiding in the trunk of our car.”

“Can she breathe in there?”

“Bottle of oxygen.”

“Clever.”

He shook his head at you while laughing, but when he spoke again he was serious once more.

“It’s not quite finished, you can’t read it for now.”

“That’s okay. Do you want to tell me more about what it’s about?”

He shrugged, blushing.

“It’s about… being in love with you. And… wanting to be where you are all the time.”

He stared at you, and you couldn’t help yourself when you reached up to cup his jaw and kiss his lips.

“What about the music?”

“Just…something I’ve been thinking about. To go with the poem.”

“So… you’re writing me a song now? Am I about to be serenaded?”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re insufferable,” he mumbled, before shushing your unspoken teasing with a quick kiss.

“I like it when you sing.”

“I know.”

There was something emotional shining in his eyes, but he didn’t speak more about it, and you let him draw the conversation away.

“What have you been up to?” he asked, taking a sip of his warm beverage while he put his guitar away.

He always asked these kinds of questions. At the end of every day he asked about how your classes had been, how was your research, how you were feeling. What had you been doing during the hours you had spent apart? It wasn’t prying, if you didn’t want to tell him, he didn’t insist. He just… genuinely wanted to know how your day had been. And you did the same for him. You remembered a time when you had settled for less than that simple, daily gesture. What an idiot you had been…

“I was just checking the weather for the coming days. It should be sunny on the Arans in a couple of days, so perhaps we could stay on the main land tomorrow. Perhaps a nice trek? It should rain early in the morning, but it’ll clear before noon.”

Andrew nodded, sipping on his tea, readjusting his glasses. At his feet, Elwood was now napping for good.

“We can drive to the national park, it isn’t far from here” he offered, looking at your phone as you showed him a page that referenced some paths across the wilderness of Connemara.

“Yeah, I thought we could walk around a lough.”

You studied the maps for a while, decided which path you would take the next day. Once the plans for your little adventure were sorted, Andrew gave you a mischievous smile, turning around and swinging his long legs over the edge of the bench. You fondly smiled as he moved to rest his head on your laps. His knees were bent over the edge of the bench, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Can I?” you asked in a quiet, tender voice as you lightly tugged on his hairband. He merely lifted his head a little as a response, so you could free his long curls, letting the chestnut strands cover your laps.

You took off his glasses too, secured them by your side. He let his eyes close with a relieved sigh as you ran your hands through his hair. You felt his body relax, the tension in his muscles disappear under your soft touch.

“This is so nice,” he hummed.

“It is,” you nodded, softly scratching his scalp, and he let out a long breath in response.

“I know that we had to wait until August to leave for our anniversary, instead of celebrating properly at the right date… but it was worth the wait!”

“We did celebrate on the date, though.”

“Yeah… but this is the actual celebration. Like… the real gift.”

“Hmm… yeah, you’re right. And I agree, it was worth the wait.”

“We outdid ourselves with this trip.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“It feels so nice to be just the two of us. To not have to worry about the usual, daily problems for a while.”

“Yeah… I reckon we both needed this.”

He took one of your hands in his. While you kept on running your fingers through his hair, he brought your other hand to his mouth, pressed it to his lips for a long kiss, intertwining your fingers together. He brought it to rest on his sternum next, stroking your knuckles.

You wanted to tell him, then. That he was the one. That he was the love of your life. That you never wanted him to leave…

But you couldn’t. You didn’t have neither the courage nor the strength. It had been a year, it was too soon. You knew, but he probably didn’t. Why scare him off when you could stay quiet and stare at his handsome features while the day ended and a new night was born out of the sun’s absence? It was safer this way…

“I love you so much, Y/N. You know that, right?” he asked in a whisper, and you noticed by how his voice had quietened that he was beginning to drift off to sleep.

You offered a tender smile he couldn’t see.

“I love you too, Andy. More than anything.”

He gave your hand a squeeze, and a moment later, his lips were parting, and he was asleep, your hand still in his, resting on his chest, and his head on your lap. You kept on looking at him, admired his peaceful expression as he slept, every detail of his face, making sure to commit each of them to memory. You didn’t pay much attention to the dying sunset, despite the colours it shone onto the world. Only when it was getting too dark for you to see Andrew’s features did you notice the passage of time. But then again, he was beautiful like this, and his hair was so soft, and the weight of his head on your lap was reassuring, grounding…

Five more minutes…

[thedissonantverses]

This is related to this post which is so on point it hurts. I wasn’t going to write this but yet another one of my mutuals had someone be super racist again directly to their asks so here we go.

I go super hard on the Veilguard positivity a lot not out of an urge to stan for BioWare but because parts of the fandom have gotten so unbelievably toxic I’m not even sure why they’re still playing the games. Legit if you’re actively in mourning about this franchise because of a, at worst, competent game you need to find something else to do. I have been told I don’t know how many times I just don’t like “critique” of Veilguard which is fecking hilarious and I should show you my dm’s. You’re not actually showing “love” for the DA franchise when you’re overly negative and reductionist.

We absolutely should be able to critique Veilguard and I do attempt to do this from time to time. But to be honest we can’t even discuss the actions of the antagonist in an honest way. It is actually laughable how far away from the source people have gone when analyzing this game and its characters. It might be my favorite game in the series but that in no way makes it perfect or flawless and I’m aware. Not gonna share the critiques here cause y’all can’t handle the base plot of the game without bullying other fans.

I keep seeing people complain about the lack of fan engagement and fanworks while directly being the reason artists and writers don’t want to be anywhere near the space. Again if you’re not commenting or reblogging or otherwise supporting other creators in the fandom you are the problem I’m talking about. If you’re being super vitriolic then yeah, no one wants to make stuff for you for free. They’re too afraid or exhausted and we are all culpable, myself included.

The media literacy problem, the bigotry, and the lack of engagement are all related issues and until the most vitriolic amongst us reckon with that nothing will get better. And yeah, if you’re going super hard against a game that stands this hard by its queer, disabled, and POC characters that’s a huge red flag. Unpack it. Offline. Away from the marginalized members of your fandom.

[the-kr8tor]

Rose Hips + ⭐️ : Jason Todd and fae!reader in an AU where he and reader have been friends since he was on the streets and wandering forests and reader gives up their immortality to save Jason after he’s been killed by Joker c:

Gasp! A jason todd fic from me?! 😂 Thank you for the request, tony!!! I hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for vague clothing), reader has a nickname, robin! Jason Todd, can be read as platonic, fae! Reader, CW injury, CW blood, TW death, hurt/comfort.

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

Navigation

Flames lick at your feet, embers crackling as the fire eats away at your home. Animals flee, tails tucked away in fear of it getting singed, but you, with the unshed tears in your eyes, and bare feet running across the glade– you run towards the direction of the searing heat. Its source is a man-made building made of stone and glass, something you thought was invincible. But as you get closer and closer, its destruction becomes inevitable.

All things must come to an end, but you have to try to save him. Jason, the blue eyed menace you've come accustomed to. His smile lingers in your mind, laughter echoing in your ears. You can still remember the day you met him, bruised and battered, skin blooming into crimson and royal purple— a colour you've only seen in flowers. The meeting was bound by fate, like the vines crawling up your arms and around your torso; a fate etched into stone. And yet you once turned it away, turned him away because he wasn't supposed to be here in the dark woods all alone, moreso with a being such as you. You tried to scare him then, made yourself look like a powerful deity of the forest only to be met by a bout of boyish laughter.

“You look like a cheap knock-off of poison ivy!” He once said to you as he clutched his stomach from laughter.

You didn't know poison ivy was a laughing matter for humans when its touch could blossom into boils. It got you curious then, what else do humans think about the world around them? How do they think now that they ride metal horses and run on rubber feet? So you let him go back to your abode, sometimes tending to his wounds with herbs as he talks nonstop about his life outside.

Soon all the monthly visits became weekly, then turned into daily visits. You ask him questions about his kind, and he answers, mostly in a joking manner. You never offered him your food, knowing that he doesn't deserve the life to be shackled with you for hundreds of years. He deserves better. You've only kept him company, a friend for him to talk to, someone to laugh with, someone he would care for and in turn you'd care for him too. Until he disappeared for almost a year, you didn't try to find him then, you only hoped that he's alright, that he's still alive and keeping that smile on him. Then he comes back with less bruises on his skin, no blood splattered on his shirt. And his eyes shine with something anew. Hope. He tells you of a friend, someone who helped him just like you have. Jason seemed happy despite the cracked knuckles, and the ache in his muscles, he found his purpose. And you were happy for him, told him that he's always welcome in your forest if he ever got tired of his bat companion.

Jason was younger back then, toughened to survive the harsh realities of humankind. He still is. While you've survived a millennia from their brutality with a stiff lip, he fought back, ever a fighter, a defender. So here you are, running to fight for him, to defend him when no one came to save him.

You leave the thicket, skin warm, heat radiating off of your primordial skin. The vines snaking around your forearm tightens, a tell of your worries for the blue eyed boy.

The fire devours the stone building, its heat blasting at your face as you try to pass its flaming curtains. With a wave of your hand, you weave a wall of vines, its protruding thorns sharper than teeth. It shields your form from the flames that threaten to bite and nick at your skin. Entering the destruction, your eyes rapidly scan the place, hoping, wishing that you're not too late. You know he's here, but you barely feel his soul anymore. His warmth is tamped down by the embers kissing your flesh.

As you get further and further inside, the more danger you've put yourself in. You might be immortal, but you're not immune to the very thing that could single handedly destroy your home. The vines shield your form, but not enough as embers flicker too close to you. You're not afraid of dying, you've lived a thousand lifetimes, enough for someone to wish for an end. But as death knocks, not on your door but on Jason's limp body— you fear death.

“Jason!” Bolting towards him, you immediately kneel before him, hands patting away the flames eating away at him. Darkened smoke billows out from everywhere you see, and as you cup his cheek, he coughs weekly, eyes cracking open at the familiar sight of you. “Jason. I'm here, I'll get you out.” Before you could carry him, he grabs your wrist weakly.

“M–My mom.” He wheezes, soot covering his face. “Get h–her out first.”

You now notice another form in the building, and you realize why you haven't felt her presence until he told you.

“Jay, I'm sorry, she's gone.” You squeeze him once as tears flow down his cheeks, leaving a clean trail down his face. “I'll come get her out, but you come first.”

“B–But.” He coughs again, dry heaving on the concrete floor, eyes darting over to the limp body just a few feet away from him.

“I'll go back for her, I promise.” Despite his protest, you place your arm under his legs and back, carrying him as if he weighed nothing.

His face is marred by a beating, but under it, under all the caked blood and swollen eyes, he's still the same Jason you know. He's older now since you last saw him, but he's still a fighter.

He clings to you tiredly, fists holding onto a vine weaved across your chest. His breathing slows, eyes darting over to the simple chain of beads around your neck.

“You k–kept it.” It's getting harder for him to talk. You don't waste time sprinting away from the scene.

“Of course I did.” Wind and fire rushes at you, cheeks feeling like it's being boiled, and feet slowly burning away by the heated stone. “You made it.”

“You said—” he coughs, face tucked away on your bicep. “You said it was crudely made.”

“I lied, Jay.” Your eyes stings from the smoke, but you blink it away as you're close to the exit. “Stay awake for me.” Your voice doesn't tremble, but fear ebbs out of you in waves.

Jason manages to smile, patting the necklace weekly. “Liar.” He says, head lolling over your arm.

“Jason!” You wrap him closer, shielding him from a falling beam that's now blocking your path. “No!” Desperation ropes you in place, head craning down to look at his lifeless eyes.

“No.” You refuse for it to end this way.

With a burst of energy, you raise a fist, calling forth a tree to sprout from underneath the cracked concrete. Its trunk gives you enough leverage to make a new path above the flames, giving you a bridge. As you walk over its wooden body, you can hear it scream in agony.

You apologize as it gets snuffed out by the flames in time for you to push yourself and Jason out of the fiery abyss.

You don't waste time in returning to the thicket with Jason in tow, hoping that you have enough time to revive him. But as your knees give out from under you, plummeting down on the forest floor but away from the fanning flames. You realize that you can't keep your promise to him.

Cradling his head, you feel how cold he is under your touch. But there's still a spark in him, enough for you to do everything you can to yank him away from death's cold embrace.

Placing your head atop his own, you murmur words laced with an incantation— one you're forbidden to say. It could mean your destruction, but it could also give him life.

As you feel the air swirling around you, your power seeps out of you like sunrays. Light fights its way from underneath your ancient flesh, cracking you open, burning away the vines encompassing around you, and bathing Jason in its ethereal light.

It hurts more than flames, as if your form is being ripped away from your very being. With a muffled scream, your vision darkens as you fall forward and atop his chest.

Raindrops slowly drip from the above, raining down on both of your forms.

—

Jason wakes up to find you breathing above him, cheek pressed atop the burnt material of his suit. Your eyes are closed, fingers gripping at his arm like he's about to run away from you whilst you slept. His eyes are met with dappled sunlight, and his ears pick up a birdsong as the breeze kisses his cheek.

He blinks the heaviness behind his eyes away. There's no pain throbbing on his face and body, lungs breathing fine, even better than before. It's as if nothing ever happened to him. But when he feels your beating heart from above him, he knows something is amiss.

“Hey,” Jason sits up, hand cradling the back of your head as he tries to wake you up. “C’mon, wake up.”

You crack one eye open, nose scrunching up from the rude awakening. “Jay?”

He beams at you, chuckling at the drool running down your chin. “I've never seen you sleep.” His hands are warm and nice against your skin, so you indulge yourself by leaning against him. It seems that the simple act made him grin further. “Your heart's beating really fast, Grinch.”

You roll your eyes, wiping away at your chin. “You've never seen me sleep because fae people don't sleep.” Moving away and sitting up on your own, you narrow your eyes at his smiling face. “I told you not to call me that sour name.” Despite your words, you smile at him, happy that your incantation worked and he's alive. But there's a gnawing feeling at your chest, a worry that he's a figment of your grief stricken mind.

“Are you real?” You ask, voice small.

Jason takes your hand and places it atop his beating heart. “I'm real,” he notices that your arms are free of any vines binding you. He then takes the same hand and places it on your chest. “And you are too.”

Your eyes widen at the unfamiliar heavy feeling. “I'm—!”

Lunging at you, Jason embraces you on the forest floor as the early morning sun beams down on you. “Mortal.” You hug back, face hiding on the crook of his neck. He mirrors you, smiling against you. “And alive.”

“We both are.”

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

[odoraful]

𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑲 𝑻𝑶𝑶 𝑴𝑼𝑪𝑯

wanderer finds a way to ease your insecurities after you overhear some rumors

⟡ content: wanderer x gn!reader ; established relationship ; reader is a student at the akademiya ; reader feeling a bit insecure about their relationship with wanderer ; but he knows a good counter :) ; the vibe i was going for was silly and sweet hehe ; 2k w/c

⟡ a/n: i did proofread and edit this, but i was a little sleepy in the process, so apologies for any glaring errors! i hope you enjoy, mwah !

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Just because the Akademiya was one of the leading institution for academics in Teyvat doesn’t mean that its students are all about studies. Gossip and rumors were some of the biggest sources of entertainment to come out of its lecture halls and labs.

Though many of these tales were unfalsifiable, students did not need to adhere to rigorous experimental principles when it came to coming up with stories. It all started with the story that the building Vahumana scholars studied in were haunted. Apparently, a Vahumana researcher had brought home an ancient relic they weren't supposed to from the ruins of one of their expeditions. This relic held a spirit who had been a revered warrior in ages long past. Angered at being removed from their station, the spirit now stalked the halls, trying to enact revenge on the person that committed this heinous act. If objects were knocked over by an unseen force, and the air grew chilly, it was said to be a sign that the spirit was near. From then on, many other stories began to rise, each to varying degrees of popularity.

Wanderer thought all of this to be absolute rubbish.

But, he did find the deliberate arousal of widespread fear to be quite amusing. Spread by the students themselves, no less. Mortals were certainly interesting creatures. He also loathed these rumors and tales popping up because he found himself to be wrapped up in one himself:

Hat guy is dating someone famous!

Someone had seen Wanderer on a date and, to everyone’s complete shock, being intimate. But, it was only from a distance, so they couldn’t figure out their identity. Thus, the speculations began. Wanderer wished everyone would just mind their own business.

As an Akademiya student yourself, you have also heard many of these stories during your time here. And as Wanderer’s partner, the ones about his romantic relationship was something you’d wish you heard less of. Unfortunately, you were now within hearing distance of an excited group of students talking about exactly that. They were seated at one of the public tables used for studying, though they were doing very little of it.

“Guess what?!” one of them exclaimed. “I saw Hat Guy the other day with his mystery partner.”

The rest of the group erupted into gasps. Is this some kind of Hat Guy fan club? you couldn’t help but wonder.

You stood innocently by the message board a ways from them, pretending to check and read if any new information had been added whilst your ears remained perked.

“No way! Did you find out who they were?”

“I had to rush of to class before I could sneak by them!” the witness of your date huffed. “I wouldn't have to do all this if he wasn't so secretive about this.”

Two days ago, you had indeed met up with Wanderer between classes, sitting by one of the more secluded gazebos in Razan Garden. You both weren’t actively trying to keep your relationship a secret, rather, you just enjoyed your privacy more.

One of them folded their arms rather decisively. “It has to be a celebrity. With how haughty he is, there’s no way that Hat Guy would settle for anyone who wasn’t some renowned star.”

Hey, that’s a bit rude! you protested internally. They don’t have to be a renowned star…

“That’s why he’s being so hush-hush about it, so it doesn’t become a huge scandal.”

“They must be jaw-droppingly gorgeous then. Only the best for the leading scholar of Vahumana,” agreed another, with loving sigh that made your eye twitch.

You pouted to yourself. Sure, you thought you were somewhat pretty, but not anything jaw-dropping… Hang on, why were you giving into these strangers’ silly speculations?

“Could they be a performer from Fontaine? I heard they have a grand Opera there.”

“They’re probably a vision wielder as well!”

“Yeah, definitely not some ordinary student like us.”

“Or maybe they’re a famous bard from Mondstadt—”

The group turned into a flurry of chatter as they continued with their guesswork. Your time here was up. You didn’t feel like listening any longer.

Some ordinary student… you repeated in your head. It wasn’t untrue, but the way it was said by them made it seem completely absurd for Wanderer to even consider dating someone like you.

Just as you turned to walk away, you jumped at a sudden noise.

An open door to an empty classroom had slammed shut. The sharp thud echoed throughout the space.

The chatter from the students immediately ceased.

They began to laugh uneasily. Surely that was just caused by a simple strong draft. The laughing faded when the books and loose parchment on their table were suddenly pushed to the side, the lighter of these items tumbling to the floor. They all stood up, horror frozen on their faces. The air grew noticeably cooler. Wind swept in, causing the papers pinned to the message board in front of you to flutter.

“I-it’s the ghost!” one of the students shrieked, pointing to one of the doorways that led into this central space. “The ghost of the Vahumana building!”

A figure loomed at the threshold, a sinister air surrounding them.

The group of students snatched their bags and rushed as fast as they could away, scrambling for the exit in the opposite direction. Their urgency greatly juxtaposed against your nonreaction.

There was just something about the figure that was all too familiar.

Stepping into the lit space, the figure ruffled a hand in his violet hair. Annoyance was twisted on his face.

“Using your anemo on Akademiya grounds?” you asked with a quirk in your brow.

Wanderer let out a huff, walking towards you. “For good reason. Not only were those students talking nonsense, they had the audacity to be loud about it too.”

Since there was no one around at the moment, you felt comfortable enough to bring up a hand to tidy his hair up. Though he gave a begrudged sigh, Wanderer leaned into your touch as you combed your fingers through it.

“I didn’t know you were the ghost of the Vahumana building,” you teased, moving an index finger down to poke at his cheek. “You seem pretty corporeal to me.”

“That ridiculous story again?” Wanderer responded, swatting at you to stop. “Humans seek out information that already confirms their previous beliefs. They saw whatever they wanted to see.”

Even though he shrugged as he spoke, Wanderer was unmistakably satisfied with the result of his doings. As he was heading to meet up with you to head home together, he heard that group of students yapping away about his relationship and saw your discomfort at their rudeness. He needed them gone and gone fast. So, he conjured up his most basic form of anemo. Even that was enough to send them scurrying away like mice.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You both were bathed in the warm sun as you walked through the streets of Sumeru City. It was a lively afternoon, with people bustling about to run errands or savor the perfect weather. Usually, you’d also relish in a day like this, but your attention was elsewhere. The conversation those students had repeated frustratingly in your mind, as much as you didn’t want it to affect you. Your focus returned just in time for you to move away as a woman carrying several boxes of Harra fruit almost sent you toppling over.

“Be careful there!” she called before moving on her way.

You shouted an apology, shaking your head in an attempt to return to your senses. Wanderer frowned, tugging at your arm to pull you closer to him.

"Are you going to spit it out?”

Though you hadn’t done anything wrong, you still felt like you’d been caught.

”Spit what out?” you answered.

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” he said, glowering at you. “You’ve been acting strange since we left the Akademiya.”

Turning the corner into the more residential area of the city, the streets grew less busy, save for the occasional resident tending to their garden outside or taking a walk with their family.

There was no keeping anything from Wanderer with his senses and hard-headedness. You probably had a better chance with hiding a Sumpter Beast under a blanket.

“I was just thinking about what those students were talking about back at the Akademiya. You know, about who you were dating.”

“They were saying: Oh, they must be some kind of celebrity, or famous adventurer with a really cool vision who’s super incredibly gorgeous and isn’t just some nothing student,” you mimicked with disdain.

Wanderer cocked his head to the side. “And that was verbatim?”

“Yes, yes it was!” you nodded emphatically, ignoring his pointed sarcasm. “It just had me feeling I don’t know…”

Wanderer didn’t say anything more as your sentence trailed off. He simply looked at you, expectantly. The sound of your feet hitting the paved road rung clear in the air, every step pushing you to admit what you were truly feeling.

“I just felt a bit insecure!” you blurted out.

Sighing, the words began to tumble from you.

“Like if this is the kind of image people have about who’s dating you, once they see me they’ll start to think: Why on Teyvat is he dating that person? Which will make me think: Why on Teyvat are you dating me?”

“And I know, it’s horrible to think like this, and I don’t want doubt your reasons for liking me, but I just can't help it. So, now I’m starting to worry whether you'd prefer someone else—”

Your rambling stopped short.

Not because you had lost your train of thought, but because there was something physically preventing you from continuing.

Your lips was being covered by Wanderer’s own.

Your mind finally registered that he was kissing you in the middle of the street, only a few blocks away from your home.

Protests of stopping him fizzled away as you relaxed in his hold. His hand moved up to rest at the base of your neck and you gave in to the soft coolness of his lips. Wanderer’s kisses always had a hunger behind them, but there was something else now too.

Frustration.

Like he was trying to send you some kind of message each heated movement. When he finally pulled away, your body was left with tingles and you were still enveloped in his gentle scent of linen and parchment.

Wanderer silently admired the flush he left on your lips—the colour of ripened Zaytun peaches. He lightly tapped the side of your forehead with a finger, almost in scolding.

“You’re really that affected by the stupid things other people say?” he chided.

You blinked at him, still slightly dazed by his previous stunt.

He continued, with a sincerity to his voice that gave you pause, “Isn’t the proof you need right here? I chose you. So no, I wouldn’t want some famous superstar, or whatever, because they wouldn’t be you.”

Your mouth parted at such an open confession. Wanderer couldn’t handle the joy swimming in your eyes and turned away, hiding his own buzzing feeling that rose within him with a long sigh.

“I can’t believe you’re feeling like this when we’re walking to our shared home together,” he muttered, starting to walk again.

You kept up by his side, hands behind your back. You almost felt like skipping now down this street.

“Do you think you could say all that one more time?” you asked, the question filled with mirth.

“Nope.”

“Please?”

“Nope,” Wanderer, again, immediately replied.

“But what if I need more reassurance?”

You angled yourself to try and meet his gaze, hoping that the pleading in your expression would better convince him. However, he seemed to be notably avoiding your eyes. Unconsciously, Wanderer’s eyes flicked over to you. In that millisecond, his own resolve crumbled. He groaned aloud.

“Later… then…” he conceded with a mutter.

For all of Wanderer's supposed unwillingness, he would always give you the reassurance you needed in his own mischievous way. Still, he didn’t like how those rumors had so quickly burrowed into you. Perhaps it was time to stamp them all out by showcasing to everyone who he was dating.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[roseyodditea]

Hiii (llove ur harumasa work)

If u don't mind writing for both haru and Seth (cuz both of them have cute Lil fangs my god those teef)

Could I request love bites from them? Like they saw their s/o and felt they looked extremely cute that in the midst of a hug/snuggle/cuddle they just Chomp or any extra scenarios

I'll leave the rest to u but extra dose if fluff Plz!

🍮

You are so right I do love their little teeth.

They Bite Because They Like You - Seth/Harumasa x gn!Reader (Seperate)

Summary -> About 500 words each. Barely proofread because it was written in the waiting room of a vet's office <3 Warnings -> None! The biting isn't too suggestive

It was a cozy, rainy afternoon and after what felt like hours of begging and pleading you had convinced Seth to forgo his training for the afternoon and cuddle up with you to watch a movie. Between the light pattering of the rain on the windows, the lit candles being the only light source, and the big fluffy blanket, it was hard to not feel relaxed. You were thankful to have this time to enjoy with your sweet boyfriend. You had never dated a feline thiren before, so it wasn’t unusual for Seth to do something you weren’t quite used to, but this was new. Your sweet boyfriend was… shaking? Vibrating?

You picked your head up just slightly to get a look to make sure everything was okay, only to see him intently focused on the tv. Nothing seemed wrong, so you put your head back down on his chest, hearing the noise and feeling him shake again. After a few seconds you realized what it was. He was purring and it was the best noise you’ve ever heard. 

“You are adorable,” you coo and see his ears twitch a bit as he looks down with a clueless expression. 

“Huh?” He tilted his head a bit, curious.

“You’re purring! You’re all comfy and cozy and purring!!” You tease and poke his side only to hear the high pitched noises he let out in protest. “Cute!”

“I am not cute!” He let out a shrill giggle, a bit ticklish. 

You continued to tickle him relentlessly, pinning him under your body weight as you listened to the noises and snorts, your hands moving to tickle his stomach. “You’re the sweetest and most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.” Seth lets out a particularly loud laugh before reacting on pure instinct, reeling up to sink his teeth in your bicep before he realizes what he did, looking at you blankly, bracing himself for the teasing that was about to come. 

“You just bit me like a little kitten!” You teased, finding it adorable despite the slight sting from the sharp fangs on your skin. “Like you had enough pets and you just bit me! That’s so cute.”

“No! I’m not cute!” He chokes out another laugh before biting more up your arm, like a petulant little kitten who was losing a fight. It doesn’t phase you at all, not minding the little raised red marks you’d have peppering your arm once you were done. How could you stop when he was being this adorable?

Seth finally wiggles away to the other side of the couch before he pouts and moves out of your grasp, sitting up and looking away from you, his ears flattening and twitching lightly as he glances back to see if you’re paying attention.  

“Nooo I wanted to cuddle,” you sigh and watch how he wasn’t budging. “...Truce?” Seth looked over and smiled softly. “Truce.” He replied before moving to lay on top of you, resting his head on your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your torso.

“Are you going to start purring again?” You ask a bit excitedly.

“Probably. I’m enjoying this time with you.” Seth murmured and nosed into your neck.

… “Can you meow for me?”

“Absolutely not.”

Publicly being Harumasa’s partner was… difficult to say the least. Walking through Lumina Square on a weekend with the flash of fans and press every now and then was a pain on its own, but the scolding words from some of the super fans who wanted to “steal your place” was overwhelming. It was too much, and you ducked into an alleyway and sat down on the concrete, catching your breath while Harumasa tried to get the press off of his back. You sat and a fat street cat came over for pets, helping you relax even further. You didn’t hear the footsteps until the cat ran away, Harumasa letting out a frustrated huff. “Hey, love.” He cooed softly and sat next to you, pulling you into his arms. “I’m sorry today was ruined.” “It wasn’t ruined,” you mumbled and leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. “I got a little overwhelmed and needed a breather. It’s okay.” Harumasa was quiet for a bit before he spoke back up. “Well… Let me make it up to you. I know what you want~” A teasing tone dripped off of every single word he said, those golden eyes shimmering in mischief.

“What are you thinking?” “I’m thinking we'll go back to your place and make some cookies.” He offered and immediately a little light shined on your rain cloud. “Yeah see? There’s that smile I love so much.” He stands up and pulls you up with him.

“Fine, fine that sounds much better than being mobbed.” You let out a small laugh as he hoists you to your feet. Hand in hand, you both walked out of the alleyway and got maybe fifty steps before more fans and cameras found the both of you.

Random questions were thrown out, people asking for autographs or photos shouted over the insults being hurled at you. Harumasa just stopped, not wanting to give them the time of day after he just wanted to see your smile. He looked over, the look in his eyes saying he had a plan. “Can I do something over the top, ridiculous, and weird?” You tried to tune out all the people before looking at him. “What?” “C’mon. Yes or no?” “I-” one more call of someone threatening to ‘steal’ Harumasa from you sets you over the edge. “Yes. Go ahead.” Harumasa lit up before suddenly picking you up, twirling you around before attacking your face and neck with kisses and love bites, even playfully tugging the skin of your cheek just to hear the way you roared in laughter. He was being overly affectionate as you shrieked and shrilled, repeating ‘I love you’ like a prayer as he held you close to him, acting like the crowd wasn’t even there. Eventually they got the idea and dispersed, but Harumasa didn’t let up. Instead he had moved on to just biting and nipping playfully and laughing as you squirmed.

“Ah! Teeth! Teeth!” You placed your hand on his forehead and tried to push him away, the two of you practically wrestling in public and laughing. “Stop! Mercy!” You laugh as Harumasa pulls away and places one more dramatic kiss on your cheek before grabbing your hand. 

“See? Now they’ll leave us alone because they think we’re freaks.” He laughs and gives you another playfully hug.

“You’re so weird,” you caught your breath as the last of the laughs died off on your tongue. 

“Oh but you love it~” He lifts your hand to his lips for what you assume was a kiss before sinking his teeth into the back of your hand.

“Quit it!” You flick his nose and laugh as he dramatically reels away, stumbling until he’s back in step with you. 

A/N, but a bit more personal than normal -> I'm still learning about the landscape and etiquette of Tumblr because I've only really browsed until recently. So excuse me while I experiment with trying to create a style that's recognizable at a glance. Also are there like other community things I need to work on? I know I'm a very shy liker and reblogger and I'm trying to break the habit in my mind and actually outwardly show support more. I say that but my OCD makes it hard sometimes. Anyway have a good day thank you for reading <3

[angelicgirlmj]

an angels glow up guide for 2025 ⋆.˚

have you tried to glow up before, only to fail to see results, feel unmotivated and give up? realise that you don’t actually have the energy or motivation or discipline to suddenly change your life? this guide is meant to help you glow up at your own pace - treat it as a checklist or pick a few tasks from each section! whatever speed you move at remember that any progress is positive. feel proud of yourself angel - 2025 is your year!

PREPARING ⋆.˚

research, research, research!! this is the best way to actually create a plan/guide and have it stick for you. here are some of my planning video recommendations:

after you’ve watched some videos, read some posts and articles now it’s time to start specifically planning for YOU, here are my favourite things to do:

make a vision board.

buy or source what you’ll need (e.g a gym membership, a waterbottle). treat yourself as much as you can!

clean and tidy your space.

sort through your drawers, clothes and so on. donate what you can and clear some space out.

make a playlist full of motivational songs and the energy you want to bring into the new year.

have an everything shower - feel your cleanest and best for your new goals.

make a pinterest board with a section for every specific goal you have.

make a planner or organiser. write down all of your goals, ideas and plans. start journalling about how you will achieve them and how the you of the future will look having achieved them all!

research and find apps, youtubers or guides specific for your goals that can continue to help you feel motivated and energised.

HEALTH ⋆.˚

your health should be your priority this year! you cant glow up mentally, physically or spiritually unless your body is functioning at its best. here are some essential health focused habits to adopt so you can be your best in every single way:

walk a minimum of 5k steps a day.

drink 2 litres of water a day.

stop skipping meals! having three meals a day ensures that your body is running at its best and functioning how it should.

at least two servings of fruit or veggies per meal.

adding vitamins or supplements in your diet when you can.

yoga every morning and evening.

outside time every day.

find a workout plan that works for you and your lifestyle.

try to eat cleaner, avoid super sugary foods, fast food, anything that stops your from feeling your best.

plan your meals in advance.

have an early night - get at least 7-8 hours.

reduce your caffeine where possible, try herbal teas, matcha and so on.

emphasise a balanced diet and plate.

practice meditation and breathing.

stretch before and after every workout.

stop using screens at least an hour before you go to bed.

cook more - stop buying takeout or ready meals as much as possible.

have rest days, your body and muscles need some time to recover.

change your attitude! workout because you love your body not because you hate it.

BODY + APPEARANCE ⋆.˚

your body and appearance always tends to be a strong emphasis in glow up guides and while i think it’s important i think it’s better and more effective to focus on health, wellness and your mental space which in turn will lead to a bigger physical/appearance based glowup! i do love sharing tips for your body and appearance and i feel it’s something that i should share just with the reminder on where you should invest most of your time and energy

face

ice face every morning.

gua sha routine 3-4 times a week.

double cleanse to remove makeup, spf etc.

suncream every day!

moisturise twice a day to keep skin hydrated.

perfect your makeup and skincare routine.

gently pluck eyebrows to keep them more clean.

face mask once a week.

spot treatments where needed.

lip masks/treatments regularly.

silk pillowcase to prevent acne!

washing hands before touching face.

use a facial oil.

try regular face massages.

hair

invest in a bonnet or silk hair ties.

sleep in a protective style.

try out new hair styles to fit your hair type!

double cleanse with shampoo.

hair masks and oils pre wash.

heat protectant whenever you use heat.

embracing your natural hair.

investing in a hair oil.

buy cute hair accessories to make your hair more fun and for you!

leave your conditioner on your hair for a minimum five minutes.

try rice water for hair growth.

get regular haircuts - get those dead ends trimmed!

figure out how often to wash your hair and commit to that.

ensure all shampoo and conditioner is washed out your hair.

use a scalp scrub/exfoliant.

body

ditch the loofa and invest in an african shower net.

exfoliate before you shave.

change your razor head once a month.

use a neutral soap bar to cleanse your body then go in with a shower gel.

use a plain thick lotion, then a body oil and then a scented lotion for baby soft skin.

exfoliate your feet regularly.

find your signature scents.

use a roll on deodorant and replace it regularly. bring it in your bag/out with you.

have an everything shower once a week.

use a cuticle oil and hand cream.

file and paint your nails once a week.

cut your toenails once a week, paint and make look pretty!

dry brush your body before washing/showering.

the last minute of your shower should be cold!

spf on your body when it’s more exposed.

figure out your body type and dress to work with that.

invest in more jewellery and accessories.

teeth + oral care

floss daily.

mouthwash twice a day.

clean teeth before and after breakfast.

oil pull three times a week!

carry gum in your bag at all times.

invest in a water floss.

get teeth whitening strips or get your teeth whitened.

if you have a retainer etc, use it!!

tongue scrape.

MIND ⋆.˚

to glow up properly i really believe you need to have a mental glow up as well! your mental health and wellbeing is so deeply important and such a good thing to prioritise as much as possible. here are my suggestions to help you get a mental shift/change:

read every day. set a goal and achieve it.

journal every day.

watch more long form content - avoid short form.

plan your future/dream life, what mental goals will you need to achieve?

socialise more when possible, surround yourself with good and rewarding people.

learn a new hobby or skill, such as learning a new language!

become more curious, ask yourself why. learn about what interests you.

visit libraries more.

set your school device up to maximise your academic productivity!

learn to love and cherish your alone time.

take mental health walks.

find podcasts and audiobooks that interest you.

set time limits on apps like tiktok and so on that suck you in too much, they are time wasters.

read the news/news articles mores.

find a calendar and prep your days and weeks ahead of time.

set up a notion!

follow creators who inspire you positively and are healthy for you to engage with.

cut out bad habits and people.

fix your sleep schedule, dedicate your evenings just for you!

become more ‘cultured’ visit museums, read more and educate yourself.

FINANCE ⋆.˚

shop mindfully - stop impulse purchasing!

build a budget.

set a spending limit monthly.

figure out your financial goals for 2025.

try thrifting or shopping second hand.

more expensive better quality products are longer lasting - weigh that up when shopping.

cook more!

keep a spending tracker.

instead of buying a product immediately, add it to your basket and weigh it up.

follow creators who give spending tips!

if possible consider investing or what you could do better with your money.

give to charity if you can.

work hard, consider what you can do to get promotions, find a job etc.

thank you for reading angels! have fun glowing up for 2025.

love, m.