#it's her equivalent of a snow day

[kat-of-the-night]

People who protest against bizarre multiclass choices just don’t get it sometimes I WANT to combine the hubris of a wizard with the innate superiority of a sorcerer but with the thematic elements of a lawful good warlock with an evil patron

[joelsdagger]

a love so fine || one shot

joel miller x f!reader

for my girl, @dinandwhiskey, happy belated birthday babe! ily so dearly. massive shout out to my beloveds, @phoeberidgers and @pedrospatch for being my eyes, my brain and my heart, without them, i am equivalent to the tin man (they also keep me sane) <33

pairing: jackson joel x f!reader summary: an evening in with your husband helps to quiet the brain noise.  warnings: jackson era [around tlou part ii timeline], canon divergent [golfing doesn’t happen and everyone is happy and thriving bc i said so], implied age gap [no specific age for reader but joel is late 50’s], established relationship, HUSBAND joel, DOMESTIC JOEL, sickly-sweet fluff, reader can’t cook [i swear i can], pet names [baby, sweet baby, darlin’, (1) use of the word kiddo, an excessive amount of the use of the word “baby” bc i can’t seem to help myself], JOEL IN A THIGH HOLSTER, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, biiiiiiig breeding kink [ruh roh], joel says dagum bc he’s old, hint of a mama kink, praise kink, (1) (2) (3) uses of the word “daddy”, smidgen of begging + teasing, a bit of mocking, angst in the form of internal turmoil [duh it’s me what did you expect], feelings of inadequacy + guilt/shame, hurt/comfort, tinge of sex as a coping mechanism, soft emotional smut, finger sucking, oral [m!receiving], cock and ball worship [girl’s got a big oral fixation let her live], hand kink, blink and you miss subby!joel, switch reader, hint of dacryphilia, gentle–turned–semi–rough sex, soft dom!joel, mean!joel [but the sexy kind], prone bone, doggy style, hair pulling, light spanking, creampie, size kink [joel is huuuge and big and strong and at one point lifts reader onto a counter], & reader has hair long enough to grab. word count: 6.4k dividers by @saradika-graphics

masterlist || ao3 || follow @joelsdaggerupdates for notifs!!

gorgeous moodboard by @here-briefly

Cold air whimpers into the house as Joel steps through the front door when you’re pulling the semi-burnt meat pies out of the oven, the cold nip blanketed by the heat emanating from the cavity. You set them aside, and turn your attention to the pot of soup on the burner, your mom’s old family recipe, when you’re greeted by Joel’s figure materializing behind you. Broad palms splay across the expanse of your back, big, thick arms wrapping around your middle, shivering at the cold bite of his cheek against yours. You sink into his embrace, allowing him to feed off of your warmth.  

“Was patrol okay?” you ask, unfocused as your eyes scan over the creased paper for what feels like the hundredth time in the last two hours. 

His chin dips. Snow dusts from his head onto your shoulder. “Was fine. Couple of stragglers. Took care of them,” scruff of his face scratches at your neck as he nuzzles into your skin. “You’re home early.”   

You hum, your free hand drifts to meet his.“Surprisingly slow day at the clinic. Closed up by six, the staff booked it to the bar afterward.” You tilt your head to rest against his, basking in the crisp scent of snow, pine, and gunpowder on him, one you’ve come to recognize as home. 

“Y’didn’t wanna go with them?” he asks, thumb stroking over your stomach. 

“Nah, the clinic kicked me on my ass today. Wanted to come home, make somethin’ nice for us,” you say, reaching over the stovetop, turning the rusted knob up a few notches, flame sizzling beneath the pot.   

“Already got my something nice,” he purrs, dips his nose into your hair, reveling in the scent of your shampoo as he presses two kisses in quick succession to your temple, broad hands retreating and sneaking into your jean pockets over your ass, squeezing as he leans in to nip at your carotid.

You shrug him off in jest. “Alright, slow your roll, cowboy. You’re pulling my focus here.” His chest rumbles with a laugh against you.  

“This one’s still giving you trouble, huh?” his lips pressed up against the shell of your ear as he peers over your shoulder.  

You set the wooden spoon aside, opting to let the broth simmer, flavors marry that way. “I just don’t get how she did it. I’ve tried it about a million times. It never comes out right,” you sigh exasperatedly.

He chuckles. “Honey, you’ve been cooking all of what? Five seconds? This recipe’s been in your family for years. Cut yourself some slack here, baby.” He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. 

You can’t help rolling your eyes because this isn’t your first attempt. You’re exhausted and hungry, and you know Joel is too. You’re more than capable at work, cleaning up blood from surface wounds, expertly wrapping the occasional tourniquet, extracting bullets lodged in patrollers without even blinking. But in this slice of your life, you know you could be doing more. 

He doesn’t hesitate, head wobbles a bit, right shoulder tips, “I know it’s a lot to ask of ya,” he says softly. 

You huff slightly. “Alright, alright, enough,” sparing him a quick glance, picking up the spoon again. 

“Give it here,” he attempts, fingers motioning to hand over the spoon. You scold him in turn, reluctant to seek his help, something else you seem unable to forgo despite the world going to shit. 

“Alright,” he starts, as he moves to wrap his strong arms around your waist. “You. Sit here,” he sets you down on the countertop beside the stove. 

“Joooeeel,” you protest and begin shifting your weight in readiness to hop off the countertop.  

“Nah–” Joel puts his palm up, intercepting your movements. 

You roll your eyes but don’t fight him again, fingers curl under the countertop, legs dangling from the edge as you watch him swirl the wooden spoon in the soup. You bite your lip, a knot curling in your chest. Domesticity is a nice look on him. You often tell him as much, but this time you don’t. “Oh – don’t tell me you can cook now. Much less my own family recipe. You can do everything else, can I have this one damn thing.” 

His eyes crinkle at the corners, and mouth tugs up. “Says the doctor who spends all her time fixin’ up everyone else in this town. Could probably do it in your sleep.” He spoons the soup, pinching a sliced carrot in the bowl of the spoon, testing its tenderness. 

“Alright, but if you burn it, we gotta eat at the community hall again.” You lean back, your head resting against the cabinet. 

He lifts the spoon to his lips, eyes closing as he savors the bite and swallows. “You even taste it? ‘Cause it’s pretty darn good, sweetheart.”

When you don’t respond, he dips his index finger into the pot, strides over to you, and slants himself in between your legs. He taps the bottom of your lip. “Open up,” he commands softly.

You do as he says and close your lips around the digit and hum.

A balanced blend of rich sweetness and delicious saltiness with a hint of tang on the finish dances on your taste buds.

He’s right; it’s pretty good. But you don’t revel in it. Your mind focused on Joel’s lips parting at the sight, his eyes trained on your lips around his finger. You watch him, your lips curving into a smirk as he removes his index finger, swiped clean, and replaces it with his thumb, pushing past your lips and onto your tongue. 

One of your hands instinctively reaches up to wrap around his wrist, his head dips slightly lower, lips only a hairsbreadth from yours, woodsy-salty taste of him and the heat from the burner melding together, clouding your mind. You feel the hitch in his breath against your lips, black slowly taking up the hazel hues in his eyes as they stay trained on your mouth, sucking his thumb. 

“Good girl,” he whispers softly, almost casually. 

You preen at his praise. Teeth barely grazing the pad of his thumb. You can feel the bulge against your belly, sitting firm between layers and layers of clothing, growing more and more evident with every passing second his thumb stays pressed into your mouth. 

You release his thumb with a soft pop, biting back a grin, your hand reaching up to card your fingers through his too-long hair, “tastes good.” 

You both know you’re not just talking about the soup. 

You tuck a curl behind his ear. The corner of his mouth tugs up, and his thumb traces the shape of your lips, lustful eyes focused on yours as his soft lips envelop yours, the hairs of his mustache tickling your face. You giggle into his mouth. Then both his hands cradle your face, the metal of his wedding band bitingly cold against your cheek, you shiver. 

Your finger hooks into the holster on his thigh, drawing him in, grinning when you feel the tightness behind his jeans, rock solid, and throbbing. You grind upwards, rolling your clothed cunt against his bulge, a deep groan pours from his mouth into yours. Arousal clouds your senses as you fuse your body to his, nails digging into the leather of his strap, lungs fighting for air between heavy pants until—

A loud sputtering sound from beside you forces you apart, and your heads dart towards the stove. 

Shit shit shit. 

You hastily hop down from the counter, lunging for the knob, your other hand simultaneously pulling the pot off the burner.

You let out a sigh of relief, “Thank God. It’s not burnt. Think it’s ready if you wanna eat now, or do you wanna run through the shower first?” you ask over your shoulder.  

Joel huffs out a quiet laugh, places a firm hand on the small of your back as he reaches for the tethered cabinet above your head, “let’s eat darlin.’”

—

You’d been glancing to and fro between your sketchbook and Joel propped up beside you with a book in bed for the last fifteen or so minutes. The soft glow from the lamp on the nightstand to your left, capturing his features just right for you to doodle them as accurately as you can.

His post shower hair combed back into soft waves, tucked behind his ears and down his neck. It’s getting quite long; curls threaten to slip into the collar of his sleep shirt. He’s long overdue for a trim really, but you love it this way. He won’t admit it, and you won’t remind him, so it stays. 

A thin pair of old rimless reading glasses are perched on the scarred bridge of his nose. He’s got his free hand stretched out and resting on the top of your thigh beneath the covers, thumb slowly stroking your skin — always needing to touch you. The hour is quiet. Peaceful. You could stay like this forever with him; bellies full and freshly showered, in bed before ten. If he’ll still have you.  

His other hand props up the book holding his attention. An Idiot’s Guide to Space, reads the broken purple spine. The book so small in his big hands. Heat blooms in your chest for the second time, the first when he pulled it out of his nightstand an hour prior. Something he does at the end of each night. 

Joel found it on patrol one morning. He kept it to himself at first, tucked away in his top drawer, until you stumbled upon it while putting his folded clothes away. A freshly showered Joel emerged from the bathroom, Ellie’s always goin’ on and on about space. Ain’t got a damn clue about any of it, he admitted shyly. 

Sometimes he’ll blurt out a fact or two while you’re in bed or padding out of the bathroom. His voice cutting through your reverie –

“Baby, says here you could cross the damn Milky Way in twelve fuckin’ years. Did you know that?” he chances a glance at you.

You chuckle at him. “Yes, I did know that, baby,” shaking your head a little. 

“Shit. So it’s just me with the two of you experts?” he asks with a laugh.

You smile to yourself. You don’t tell him that Ellie's the one who told you that little tidbit. 

You tuck your pen between the pages and close your sketchbook, laying it on the small table beside you, “We’ll get you there someday, baby,” you tease. 

Joel snorts, reaching for your arm and tucking you into his side. You rest your head on his chest, his fingertips softly brushing the skin of your arm. “Quit yankin’ my chain, ‘cause baby, you got no idea what you’re playin’ at.”

Oh. But you do. 

You peer up at him, studying the hard lines in his face and the soft gray shadows under his eyes from exhaustion, too much violence.  

You shift to dip your head lower down the curve of his belly. Your hand traces a line down his middle, following the thickening trail of hair down his supple belly, slipping beneath the covers, fingertips grazing the outline of his length over gray sweats, hand cupping his semi-hard cock.

Joel flinches, glasses jolt. It spurs you on. 

You palm him through his pants, and he hisses through clenched teeth. 

“Whaddya doin’ down there, kiddo?” he asks tersely, his gaze lifting over the top of his glasses.

Heat rises to your cheeks. That damn pet name. One that he uses more often these days, when you’re being a pain in his ass. The one that reminds you just how much older he is.

Liquid heat pools between your thighs. 

You gaze up at him, “I just wanna play with him a little. Is that okay?” Falsely innocent eyes sparkling, your fingers circling the head of his cock over his pants. 

He makes a low sound, and stirs. “Darlin’ if I ever say no to you, you take my revolver n’ use it on me.” A hint of playfulness in his tone.  

You giggle softly. “As fun as that would be, cowboy, that’d deprive me of my happiness,” fingers pulling the blanket and his sweats down in one fluid motion, revealing his hardening cock. 

Deft fingers now stroking through your hair. “Lemme guess. That happiness got more to do with my dick than anythin’ else?” he asks, lips curling with a soft laugh. 

You don’t respond, you suspect the smirk that quirks your lips is answer enough for him. Your head dips lower; grabbing the full length of him in both of your hands — so fucking big. Your lips close around the wide head, and you hum. 

He rests the book on his stomach, tucks an arm behind his head, and watches you as you get to work on his length. You pull your lips off him. “You want me to continue? You better keep readin’ that book of yours, Miller,” you say firmly.

A blush creeps up his thick neck; watch as his Adam’s apple bops in his throat. “Yes, ma’am,” raising the book again and continuing where he left off. 

Satisfied, you shift to move down the mattress, the sheets moving with you and bunching at the foot of the bed. 

Your mouth gets back to work on his cock, now fully stiff in your grasp, head swollen and flushed red. Your lips curling around it, your other hand wrapped around the base, fingers barely wrapping around the thick girth of him. You lathe a wet kiss to the tip, and then suction the mushroom shape of him hard, an obscene sound filling the quiet of your bedroom. The heavy weight of him pulses and leaks onto the pink softness of your tongue. You lap up the salty precum leaking at the slit and in your periphery, catch Joel fisting the corner of your pillow. He’s panting, shaky breaths escape him while he attempts to read. You smirk around him. He likes it like this; slow, lazy – sloppy. 

Your gaze drops back down as you pull off him and dip your head down to his low-hanging balls, heavy and already set to burst. You take one in your mouth, the tip of your tongue slowly draws circles along the thin, stretchy flesh, while your other hand slowly pumps the long length of him. You feel a strong hand meeting the back of your skull, fingers sewn through the strands of your hair, his muscles beneath you tightening.

You feel the heat of his gaze, almost impossible to ignore, it urges you on. Your other hand cups his other ball, gently fondling the heavy weight of it, fingers gently twiddling the skin. You suckle softly at his sac, eliciting a strained whimper from Joel, his hips cant upwards, cock twitching in your face.

“Fuckin’ love them,” you whisper, turning your attention to the other, laying a soft kiss on the underside of his ball. That one is just for you. 

“Yeah?” he exhales. “Keep goin’ then, baby,” fingers curling around the back of your neck, instructing you with the faintest bit of pressure. 

Your eyes glance up in time to find him dragging his other hand down his face, book now stacked haphazardly upon the others on his side table. His glasses sit low on the tip of his nose, eyes shut tight, dark brows pinched. All his features meld together in pleasure as he loses himself in you.

You asked him to continue reading but you can’t deny this is what you wanted all along. He looks beautiful like this; in the soft golden glow in the bedroom, tan sun-freckled skin all bare for you, mouth ajar and chest heaving with ragged breaths, veins in his neck thick and prominent as his chin tilts upward. The sight makes you ache. 

You never minded this. Matter of fact, you love it. Giving. Taking care of him, encouraging him to chase after something he wants. You never used to enjoy it before but Joel Miller so rarely takes. So rarely selfish. And seeing strong, stoic men, your man, come apart for you just from your mouth makes you rub your thighs together to soothe the brimming ache. 

Joel Miller – the man who despite the kinder, slower years spent in Jackson and never once hesitating to lend a hand to those in need, who still had a mean reputation, allowing himself to revel in the feeling of you taking care of him. The hard lines of his usual scowl gone from his face and replaced with twisted lines of pleasure. Letting himself take take take and being shameless in doing so.

You suck hard on the ball in your mouth and he moans loudly, feel it draw up between your lips. “Oh – fuck – that’s good,” his head topples back against the headboard with a hard thud, “so good,” he breathes. 

Your clothed core tightens, feel the ruined material cling to your lips. 

And because you can. You pull off him and give the head of his cock a little wet kiss. 

You blink up at him to find him watching you with bated breath, hazel eyes blown completely black. You gather saliva beneath your tongue, let a strand drool, and land directly on his slit. Joel’s entire body shivers, hips thrusting upwards into the air on instinct, his fingers in your hair tighten, blunt fingertips digging into your heated skin. “Dagum you’re good at that, baby.”

You smile and pump the length of him slowly, twisting upwards and running your thumb over his tip. Your mouth retakes its place on his length, lips stretching open around the bulbous head as you ease your head lower and lower on his length, pushing him in, in, in past your gag reflex. Tears prick at your eyes, pushing him in until his cock coaxes the back of your throat; you gag around him, and Joel groans raggedly at the sound. He loves it. You lift your head and hum around him as you begin bopping your head up and down the length of him, your fist pumps what you can’t fit into your mouth. And Joel whimpers, and jerks, hips canting to meet every bob and every stroke, every lick and every kiss.  

A tear cascades down your cheek when you swallow, the silken walls of your throat tighten around him, and at that, Joel makes a pained noise. “Get up here,” he growls, his hand drawing your mouth off him. 

You prop yourself up, shove up his shirt to lay wet kisses up the trail of his graying hair. Your mouth dips left of his belly button, pecking the deep scar, an unwelcome reminder of his fall that nearly ended in fatality.

Your lips press a kiss south of his belly button before you tongue at it. You feel the muscles in his belly quiver beneath the softness of your tongue, goosebumps ghosting his skin, your hand still wrapped around the thick girth of him — it pulses in your grasp. “Fuck– You’re gonna make me come,” he tugs at your neck again, dragging you up to straddle his lap.

“That’s kind of the point here, baby,” you say as you pepper the whiskered corners of his mouth in little kisses. “I wanted you to come in my mouth.” You brush your lips against his, and he chuckles. The hand still at the base of your neck holds you there as his tongue sneaks into your mouth, licks along the line of your gums to taste the salty flavor of himself, you moan in unison. 

He’s still panting when your fingers run through his tousled hair, feeling droplets of sweat at his temple. You kiss at the shadows under his eyes, glasses long forgotten somewhere. Joel’s tongue flicks the corner of his lips, thumbs away the tear beneath your eye then at the thin string of saliva clinging to the skin on your chin and he presses another quick peck to your lips, and against your lips.

“You look so goddamn sexy like this,” he whispers softly, before pushing his lips to yours once again. 

You smile against him. “That mean I can continue?” you whisper. 

You feel his lips twitch, he peels your shirt from your body, then his, and then his hands find your hips, swiftly flipping you over, his broad form towering over you. “Got another idea, little mama.”

“Like what daddy,” dropping your voice at the word “daddy”.  You’ve never thought to try the nickname out but you know you’ve plucked a chord when you feel his cock twitch between your bodies and you’re mentally kicking yourself that you’ve waited this long.  

Who knew Joel Miller, at the ripe old age of fifty-nine would realize he had a daddy kink. 

A low growl slips from his lips, “say it again.”

You bite back a grin that threatens to pull over your lips, your chest blooming at the thought of Joel Miller growing so comfortable with you that he’s unashamed in asking you for things that make him feel good. You want nothing more than to give that to him, so you do. 

“What are you gonna do with me, daddy?” you ask, feigning seriousness. 

“Might need to stuff that slutty mouth of yours again,” the amber in his eyes so warm and filled with lust.  

You shrug, exaggerate a sigh, “I wouldn’t complain.”

He shakes his head but you catch the creases around his eyes, feel the low chuckle reverberate through the slats of his ribs. 

“No, you wouldn’t,” he begins and his fingers hook around the waistband of your panties, “but like I said, I’ve got other plans for you tonight.”

“And what exactly do those plans entail, daddy?” you ask, your fingers ghost over his shoulders, up his neck and into his dampened temples. A smirk tugging the corner of your lips at the slow drag of your underwear down your legs. 

He doesn’t answer. His hand cups your mound, feels the sticky wet at your opening, your body jolts at the first fleeting sliver of attention your hungry cunt’s received all night. “Pussy’s this wet all ‘cause you blowin’ me, hm? You like it that much, baby?” He cocks his head, a smug grin plastered on his face. 

A blissful sigh falls from your lips, he encourages you further when he guides the head of his cock to your messy pussy. 

You arch and squirm and moan on instinct, the agonizingly slow drag of his cock through your puffy folds meticulous in measured movements. Your head falls back, fists clenching, pussy fluttering, and Joel just smirks. 

“Yeah she likes that, don’t she?” he asks, his hazel eyes burning into yours.

Your heart falls. A wanton moan slips past your lips. You want to respond. You do. But you can’t ignore that sudden, all too familiar spike of fear beginning to flare in your chest. 

His hand cups your chin almost immediately. Joel knows you all too well. Before you even know it yourself, he sees it in the storms in your eyes, the slight tremble of your fingers, the sudden rapid rise and fall of your chest. Joel’s observant, always functioning on high alert. He’s helped you through moments like this over the years, and both of you thought they were long gone. But the guilt and shame claw their way back tonight, decidedly paying a visit. 

“Hey. Stay with me, honey,” he implores, brows pinching.

Unbidden tears prickle your eyes. Your eyes slip shut. I can’t. You want to say. It’s too much. The sharp blackening teeth of shame sinking into your skin, gnawing a hole low in your belly. How do you tell your husband that even after six years together you’re still afraid to put yourself first. Afraid that if you do, he’ll abandon you just as everybody else has. How do you tell him that even though he’s never shown you he has any intention of doing so, you’ve made yourself believe that he will. That small noise in your brain ugly, rotten. And no matter how hard you try you can never seem to quiet it. How do you tell him that all you want is for him to fuck you. So hard he brings you to tears. To quiet the noise. Stamp out the flame. But you can’t seem to form the words. Can’t bring yourself to tell him and maybe even worse, you still don’t understand why after all these years spent with him. I don’t know how. 

He hinges forward, broad form crowding yours into the mattress, hands find yours beside your head, a soft clink ricochets in your ears when the metal of your wedding bands meet. 

“Talk to me, baby, what is it?” he whispers, his cock still gliding through your lower lips. 

“I–” your stammering cuts off into a soft whine, eyes flittering.   

“What?” He cocks his head, warm breath fanning across your face. 

Your guilt-ridden mind screaming at you to scramble for words. To get him to understand. Little do you know, he does. Has for a long time. Your past often makes you forget. Here. In the now, he reminds you. 

“I can’t–” you sigh when he kisses the corner of your mouth, “Joel– I–”

“I– I– I–” Joel mocks above you. “Can’t use your words cause you’re only thinking of my cock ain’t ya?”

You keen at that, cheeks bloom. He’s right. Only you rarely ask for it. 

“Always want it, but you never ask for it. Been your husband for two years and I still oughta show you I ain’t ever leavin’, is that it?” 

You mewl all petulant and small. 

He reaches to bring your left hand to his mouth, pressing a fleeting kiss to the cold metal of your wedding band. “Y’know m’all yours, sweetheart. Haven’t I shown you?” He presses another kiss to the band. “Or these mean nothin’ to ya?” A hint of smirk passes over his lips as he lays a third kiss to your fingers, your skin ablaze.  

They mean everything to you. He means everything to you. The words die on your tongue but he knows. He’s only teasing you because he needs to hear it, needs to hear that honey sweet giggle to bring you back to him. And although you wish he didn’t have to, you can’t deny that his persistent efforts make you feel just as desirable as the day he slanted his mouth over yours and made you his forever. Long before solemn vows and makeshift wedding venues. Before ratty ‘his and hers’ bath towels and engraved silver bands. He claimed you as his and he as yours and even still, it doesn’t seem to be enough. Your mind slips and the pulp of his forefinger traces down your sternum, follows the line of your stomach, goosebumps rising in its wake. 

“Joel–” you giggle quietly, and his eyes gleam. 

“Ah. There she is,” he says so softly in that honey Texan drawl that makes your stomach fall away. 

His hand flattens, broad palm drifts down the softness of your belly and settles beneath your navel, the cold bite of his wedding finger making you quiver. 

His dark eyes flicker. “How about I really fill you up? Hm?” His hand drifts further south, grips the root of his cock between your bodies, glides the underside of his cock, featherlight, through your swollen lips, the angry red almost purple tip bumps your throbbing clit before he slides it back down through your folds, letting the head catch at your drooling hole. “You wanted to know what I plan on doin’ to ya? M’gettin’ my wife pregnant. Give my sweet baby a baby? Would you like that?” 

The rest of what he wants to say lingers on the tip of his tongue, mulling around in his mouth, show you, I ain’t goin’ nowhere.

Your breath hitches, eyes go wide. Your thoughts are clouded by him. Your belly swelling, carrying your child. His child. Yes. Yes. Yes. You want it. You want it with him. 

You breathe out a desperate moan, “God, yes. Joel. Yes.”

His cock, heavy and thick, still glides through your messy folds, the head of his cock catching, catching, catching at your hole, coating his length in webs of your slick. The sweet sound of your wet echoing loudly in your shared bedroom. 

“That sound like I wanna leave you?” He asks gruffly.

You shake your head vigorously, your hips canting upwards, chasing after him. 

You hiss when his tip bumps your clit. You pout at him. “Joel. You’re being mean–” your words tapering off into a soft sob. 

He laughs at that, presses the incredibly wide head in, then back out and up again, “Not being mean, baby. Just tryna get you outta your head s’all.” And he says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like breathing. Your chest swells. He’s right fucking there. Right in front of you. But it seems as if there is no end in sight for the longing you feel for him. 

“You want it? You oughta ask for it nice, sweet baby,” he says simply.

Your pout grows more petulant, but you concede. You’re always the first to let up between the two of you. You’re easy for him that way. 

“Joel, please fuck me. Need you to fuck me, please,” you plead, words slipping into a soft moan.  

His eyes scan your face, feel his lashes flutter against your skin. He lines himself up at the opening of your cunt. “I will. I always fuck you well don’t I?”

You nod numbly, biting your lip and guiltily averting your gaze. Finger tracing up a line up his strong thigh, over his soft belly that protrudes over his still hard cock, circle the scarred tissue on his lower abdomen. 

He takes your hand in his, lays a kiss to your palm before settling it to cradle his own face. “M’gonna fuck you real good, sweetheart. Remind you how good you are for me.” 

You make a soft sound that halts his movements, fingers squeezing his. “I want it hard, Joel,” you say. And he nods in understanding. Always meeting you where you are. There’s no halfway with him. He sits back, gently taps the side of your thigh, turn around. 

You do as silently requested and twist; your stomach and chest meet the sheets, body prone on the mattress — your favorite way of taking him. 

He presses his body weight into you, his entire form enveloping yours while his hand dips south to line himself up. He thrusts forward, moaning in unison as he breaches and stretches you wide, quelling the ache when he fills your cunt in one sharp thrust. He bites your shoulder on instinct, and your eyes pinch shut in response. Joel sets a blistering pace that has your cunt constricting around him. His soft belly is flush to the small of your back, feel the sweat sliding between your bodies, welcome tears spill from your eyes, and the guilt that sat in the pit of your belly turns molten. 

“That’s it, thatta’girl,” he grits into the dampened space behind your ear. 

His words make you clench, and in response, his hand finds the nape of your neck, fingers curling and smothering your face into the mattress, and you practically sing for him in return. Your legs clamp shut, limiting the space he has to fuck into you and he groans so beautifully for you. His hand sneaks around your front, scrubs expertly at your throbbing clit, and your vision begins to blur, fists clutching the linens so tight you’re tearing them. 

“Oh god, Joel,” you cry out, the intense pleasure beginning to overwhelm you. 

“That’s it–fuck–” he grunts, “make–me–so damn–happy, baby–fuck, never—never–known it before you,” Joel rasps, punctuating every word with a sharp thrust.

You mewl and writhe beneath him in tandem, and then his massive hand grips your face, angles it towards him so your lips meet his, his index finger in your mouth, hooked behind the line of your gums to take take take. Your body jolts as his cock kisses your womb on every brutal thrust. 

“Joel, harder, please, harder,” you beg against his lips. So fucking desperate for more. 

He pulls out suddenly; a lewd, wet squelch of gaping emptiness escapes your cunt when it closes around his absence. He takes you with him, collecting you in his arms and moving the two of you up the bed and guiding you to your knees, facing the headboard. His chest fuses to your back again, knuckles brushing the globe of your ass as he parts the flesh to sink into you once more. Your head topples back onto his shoulder, buries his face into the crook of your neck, muffling the guttural moan that elicits from him as you take him deeper.

He lays a harsh slap to your ass, then firmly grips the plush flesh, soothing the sting with a rough squeeze. And then, his right hand finds a home on your hips, dull fingertips digging into your lush flesh. Your head turns, mouth meeting the hinge of his jaw. Your right hand reaches for his scalp, carding a hand through his sweaty curls to pull him closer as you babble breathlessly, fuck–I lo–I love you. I love you, Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel.   

He chants in turn, I love you, baby, my sweet baby. I’m not goin’ anywhere. M’not. I swear it, branding each word with messy kisses to your temple. His left hand interlocks with yours, wedding bands clinking, kissing at the close. Your cunt flutters around him when he recites the same words he groaned into your waiting mouth on your wedding night, God, you’re so good for me. S’ you n’ me sweetheart. You n’ me. Always and forever.

His hand releases your right hip, fingers tangling painfully into your hair at the base of your neck, pulling on the strands to drag your mouth to his. He slants his plush lips to yours, a deep groan pours from his mouth into yours when you squeeze around him. His cock grazes that spongy spot he made his long ago, and your hips push back, meeting him thrust for thrust, wanting more. His thrusts grow harsher, faster, stronger, until pain and pleasure coalesce. The pressure of his massive, unrelenting length battering your wasted cunt makes the room spin, vision waning.  

“Give it to me, baby. Come with me. I got you darlin’,” he chants as he pounds into you. “Let go for me, honey. C’mon. Show me you’re mine. Need to feel this pussy come for me. Let go, Let go.” 

Your walls pulse and Joel moans, low and breathy, something deep in his chest crumbling. You feel his cock jerk inside you, desperate and holding holding holding for you to meet him there. His teeth nip your ear and it’s all it takes for you to fall apart. Your navel tenses, cunt fluttering around his length, as you come with loud broken moans of his name, and he swallows them with deep groans of yours. He breaks, his fist slamming against the oil painting above the bed while he empties himself inside you, his cock spitting his cum at the mouth of your womb.

Your body goes limp against the painting, thighs still trembling against his, his body going lax against yours. Your head drops forward; tacky skin of your forehead meets the sticky surface with a soft thud. Joel groans lowly against your neck, chest heaving as he sears wet kisses to the top of your spine as he comes down.

You stay like that for a while. When Joel’s chest stops heaving, he rolls off you, and when your breathing slowly returns, you flop to the mattress by his side. 

You turn to face him, your chest sticking to his, tacky skin glistening with sweat in the moonlight from the window across the room.  

He cradles the side of your face in his palm, the pad of his thumb wipes away the tears before pressing it into your mouth. You nip at it gently on instinct, and Joel laughs. 

“I don’t got another round in me tonight, baby,” voice throaty and gruff. You giggle and call him an old man.

And he grumbles something that sounds a lot like, m’not that old. To which you quip, whatever you say, grumpy old man. 

Joel scoffs. “Yet you still like suckin’ this old man’s cock, ain’t that right, sweetheart?” His hand tracing a line up and down your spine. 

You hum blissfully. 

A beat passes, and with a smirk on his lips, his hand wanders to your drippy slit, you whine when he dips two fingers inside your cunt — still sore and puffy, still gaping. 

He presses deep, the cold nip of his wedding ring inside your cunt making you jolt. “Thought you said you couldn’t go another round, old man?” You say, a little breathless.

His wicked smirk broadens. “I did. That don’t mean the same for you though.” 

A gush of his cum pours out of you, coating his ring in your joint mess as his fingers pump in and out of your gaping emptiness. 

He grunts and pulls you on top of him. “I said I'd give you a baby, didn’t I? I intend on keepin’ my promise. We oughta make sure it takes”. 

For hours, Joel made no effort to pull out of you. He fucked into your used, wet heat with his fingers. And he didn’t stop. Not until the snowflakes sprinkling outside your window turned into darts of rain that softly pelted against the glass. Not until the swirl of pale gray and muted blue in the sky washed away into a blush of dusty pink and petal violet, the sun splitting the clouds on the horizon, a sliver of sun peeking between the curtains and spilling across worn sheets, shrouding your silhouette in a soft golden light. And maybe just maybe, this time, it’ll finally take. And with it, maybe that flame of fear is snuffed for good. Always and forever.

[radishaur]

Snowfall (Trafalgar Law x Reader)

Warnings: spoilers for Dressrosa and Law's backstory as well as the briefest mentions of Punk Hazard

Summary: The Heart Pirates stop at their first winter island since Dressrosa and everybody else has turned down your offer to join you in ice skating, which leaves only one option - Law.

Author’s Note: I do, in fact, have a million other fics I'm supposed to be writing, but unfortunately, this idea took hold of me, and I had to give in. It gets a little shitty at the end and I'm not entirely happy with it, but oh well. Some of this does turn into somewhat of a character study, but I hope you guys enjoy regardless!

Edit: Tell me why I was so tired when I posted this I forgot to add a title. Please ignore that if you already saw this LOL ;_;

"Are you sure you can't come with?" you begged, holding your hands together in a plea before Bepo, who only frowned with guilt.

"I promised Captain I'd go with Penguin and Sachi to keep them out of trouble. I'm sorry," he apologized, bowing his head. "Why don't you ask Ikkaku?"

You crumpled into him dramatically, throwing your arms around him as you complained. "I already asked her! She told me she has the equivalent of two left feet and wouldn't go with me."

Bepo patted your back as you sighed. It was an unspoken rule that the Heart Pirates never stopped at a winter island for long unless it was absolutely necessary. Aside from Punk Hazard, you'd never known Law to willingly leave the Polar Tang at a winter island since crossing into the Grand Line. So, when Law had announced the next island they'd be stopping at was a winter island and that they'd be there for the whole day, you'd been surprised to say the least, but you'd quickly decided to make the most of it.

You'd always been a fan of winter, and it had been years since you'd been able to go ice skating, so you'd asked every single crew member possible to join you once you landed. However, every single one of them either already had plans or didn't want to go. Bepo was your last chance at having a partner for the day, and you'd just struck out.

"I guess it's just me then," you sighed, slightly disappointed but determined nonetheless.

"Are you sure you'll be ok?" Bepo asked, wringing his hands nervously. He shuffled slightly on his feet as he considered his words. "Ice skating is pretty dangerous and normally you're fairly..." "Clumsy?" you supplied, the admission coming easily. It was true that you were fairly uncoordinated, constantly being unaware of the space around you. It earned you more than your fair share of injuries and Law, in turn, more than his fair share of stress for your well-being. Bepo winced slightly at how blunt you were, but shook his head in agreement. "I'll be fine," you assured him, "I'm more at home on the ice than I am on my own two feet. Don't stress about it, okay?"

With that, you waved goodbye to Bepo before zipping up your coat and pulling the scarf around your neck up a little higher to cover the bottom half of your face. Your first step off the submarine's walkway had you smiling excitedly. It was a gorgeous day out, the sun high in the sky and only sparse wispy clouds floating across the otherwise blue sky. There was a sparkle in the air as little snowflakes drifted in the breeze, and the snow that coated everywhere the eye could see glittered subtly under the sun's rays.

A large number of the crew members were gathered around the snowy bank where the Polar Tang had been tucked away from view. You saw a group of them making their way towards the town and quickly ran to keep up with them. You made idle conversation, Jean Bart telling you excitedly about some bakery in town he wanted to see, and before you knew it, you were in the village. You parted ways with them and went off to find somewhere to rent ice skates. Since it was a winter island, such a task was relatively simple and within minutes of parting from the group, you were on your way to the woods to find somewhere secluded to skate.

After a few minutes of trudging through the snow, you wandered out into a clearing not far from where the Polar Tang was hidden. The area was surrounded by snow-covered birch trees and right in the middle was a frozen pond, untouched by anyone else. You quickly sat down and swapped out your boots for the skates. With the proper footwear now on, you stepped tentatively out onto the ice, testing your weight before fully pressing down. The ice held underneath you as you began skating towards the middle. The metal blades glided effortlessly across the ice, and you slowly began to push yourself around the pond. It all came back to you quickly, the movements and confidence feeling natural after years of training.

You're so focused on skating again that you don't hear the crunch of snow as someone comes closer. One moment you're blissfully skating on the ice, and another moment you're being startled by a familiar, gruff voice.

"What in the world were you thinking?"

The sudden intrusion startled you, and you shrieked, the sound cutting through the air as you whipped around wildly towards where the voice came from. The sudden movement caused your feet to trip over each other, and it was only due to muscle memory — and a little bit of luck — that you didn't go crashing down onto the ice, instead stumbling for a moment before catching your balance. Once you were steady, you saw Law standing at the edge of the pond, his arms crossed against his chest and a frown on his face.

"Captain! You scared the shit out of me," you scolded, heart still racing inside your chest. You glided back towards the treeline where Law was still standing and carefully slid to a stop with the edge of your skates in front of him. "What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Law responded, his voice sharp, though not harsh.

You huffed, an easy smile pulling at your lips as you replied, "Ice skating, obviously."

Law clearly didn't find your answer as amusing as you did, however, as his frown only deepened, his lips pulling down in an obvious display of dissatisfaction. "I know that. What I mean," he continued, his voice tighter than before as he emphasized his point, "is what are you doing out here alone?"

"Well, I wanted to go ice skating but everybody else was either busy or uninterested, so I decided to go by myself rather than skip it," you explained before asking, "How'd you even find me?"

"I ran into Bepo on the way into town, and he told me you'd gone off on your own. To go ice skating, of all things," he said, the last few words said in a mix of judgment and disbelief. "You're the last person on this crew I would trust to go ice skating alone, so I came to find you. Your presence is very easy to find with Observation Haki."

"That's fair," you conceded, always the first to admit that your lack of grace often got you into trouble, "But I'm actually pretty good at ice skating. I told Bepo he didn't need to worry."

"It's not Bepo that's worried," Law snapped. Your eyes widened in surprise slightly, and your heart fluttered in your chest. Law clicked his tongue against his teeth and looked away, still frowning. You could've sworn you saw a bit of blush dusting the tip of his ears, but it just as easily could have been from the cold, so you brushed it off.

"Thanks for the concern, Captain, but I promise I'm fine. You can go back to town," you suggested, not wanting to monopolize any more of his free time.

"Absolutely not," he said firmly, leaving no room for argument. "I just watched you trip over your own feet."

You felt your cheeks heat in embarrassment and indignation. "That was your fault! You scared me," you exclaimed, quick to defend yourself.

"Besides, I'm already here. I might as well stay," he said, sounding not nearly as put out as he looked.

At this, you raised a brow. "Really?" you asked. This was highly unusual for him. You knew for a fact that the Polar Tang was nearby, even closer for Law with his Room, so the fact he was so willing to stay out here with you was odd to say the least, and you weren't one to shy away from pointing it out. "That's surprising."

Law let out a muffled growl of annoyance and embarrassment and looked to the side. "Whatever," he mumbled, hiding behind his hat like he always did when you'd poked a nerve.

You took this as your sign that you were dismissed. You smiled, just a little quirk of the lips, and began skating back towards the center of the ice. The ice still held steady under your feet, and it was easy to fall back into the rhythm of things, even with Law's watchful eyes on you.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ღ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Law sighed, his mind preoccupied as he leaned against a nearby tree. There was always something slightly unsettling to him about being on winter islands. Ever since that day, he'd never been able to look at them the same. Despite living in the North Blue for most of his life, he hadn't spent a long time on snowy islands before Cora had dragged him to every hospital he could think of. Sometimes, Law felt like the color white haunted him.

Flevance's namesake had been the White City; every building, every piece of jewelry, everything had been coated white with the very thing that would spell the demise of not only the country but Law's life as he knew it. After the horror that was Flevance and the white lead disease, there was Minion Island, and the image of pristine white snow bleeding red as the last person Law had left to care for slowly died was permanently burned into his mind. That image —the feeling of utter helplessness, of panic, of anguish — was one that even living on Swallow Island for many years after that hadn't shaken. Despite how desperately he tried, the snow always gave him a sense of dread he couldn't shake off. Even the faint white patches on Law's skin seemed to taunt him whenever he was unlucky enough to catch a glimpse of them in his reflection.

There was a long time when Law thought he might never be free of it, the odd concoction of emotions that always assaulted him on every winter island he'd come across. The second he left the North Blue, he'd done his absolute best to avoid winter islands and to make the visits to them short whenever they'd been necessary.

It had always been easier for him to run.

Punk Hazard had tested his conviction from the moment he'd stepped onto the snow bank and left his crew, left you, behind. On his worst days, it had been easy to forget that he wasn't on Minion Island; that Cora wasn't willingly signing his life away for Law to have a chance at one of his own, that Cora wasn't getting shot right in front of him, that he wasn't locked inside a box, unable to do anything but cry. It had been a harsh awakening to just how deeply everything had affected him.

But he was here now, alive by no short amount of miracles. Doflamingo was gone, locked away in the most secure prison the Grand Line had to offer, and a small amount of the weight Law had been carrying around for his entire life had lifted.

The sound of metal scraping against ice caught Law's attention and immediately brought him back to the present, where you were skating on the frozen pond in front of him. He'd been too wrapped up in his own thoughts to really observe you, but now you'd caught his attention. From the moment Law met you, he'd always known you to be oblivious to your surroundings, sometimes even tripping over nothing but air. To think of you as anything other than clumsy would have been a foreign concept to Law, but now he can't think of a word that describes you less.

Your movements are smooth yet precise at the same time, the kind of confidence and skill that can only come with a lifetime of experience. Each stride was measured, with the intention of propelling you forward through each move. At one point, Law's heart jumped into his throat as you spun yourself in circles, slowly lifting one foot and picking up speed before bowing out of the move, lifting that same foot back and letting your arms fly out to the sides. Your balance was impeccable, and each move flowed fluidly into the next.

Sometimes, Law can't help but wonder how has feelings for you. You're carefree, loud, clumsy — everything he despises — and yet watching you now, gliding gracefully across the ice, he can't bring himself to look away. You've never looked so happy, so free, as you do right now.

The smile on your face is brighter than any sun Law's ever known, and the longer he looks at you, the more he feels like his heart will explode. He sighed, forcing his heart to calm down. In hindsight, his feelings for you had always been obvious. Still, it wasn't until he had returned to Zou, his mind free of Doflamingo's looming presence on his life, when you had hugged him and looked up at him through teary lashes and told him just how happy you were that he was okay, that he realized just how deeply he'd come to care for you.

Now, it was the only thing he could think of. His immediate reaction has been rather immature, and he'd taken to avoiding you, but you were as persistent as you were annoying, which meant that strategy had lasted an embarrassingly short amount of time. You were just like Cora in that way —and many other ways — selfishly forcing your way into his heart and making a home for yourself there. He hadn't even noticed until it was far too late.

With a deep breath, he forced himself to stop thinking so much. In the end, it didn't matter how badly he wanted you if you didn't feel the same, and he'd yet to muster the courage to even broach the topic. No, instead of being absorbed by his own disgusting pining, he should be watching you, making sure you're safe, like he'd intended to do by coming out here in the first place. His eyes followed you as you continued skating, the wind whipping softly through your hair and letting the ends of your scarf float off behind you. You were so focused on skating that you hadn't even noticed the scarf loosening, the fabric barely clinging to your shoulders. You seemed completely unaware of your surroundings.

So unaware that you hadn't noticed the ice underneath your feet beginning to weaken.

The sound of ice cracking echoed out across the clearing, and Law watched as your peaceful expression quickly morphed into panic, your eyes snapping open as you stared down at your feet. "Oh shit," you called out, your voice wavering slightly as the ice gave another sickening crack.

Law pushed himself off the tree he'd been leaning against and held out his hand. "Room," he shouted, the command like second nature to him. His power extended out from his hand, the familiar blue bubble growing in size until you were well within its area. You pushed your feet against the ice, skating away as fast as you could, but the third and final crack in the ice shot out in front of you faster than you could get away. Law located a nearby snowflake as quickly as he could and flipped his palm skyward. "Shambles!"

Law had never been more thankful for his timing. One moment you were stranded out on the ice, a fear in your eyes that threatened to make his throat close up at the sight of it, and the next you were stumbling into his chest. The only sign that you had been out on the ice in the first place was your scarf, which had completely fallen off in your panic. It drifted down slowly, one end of it floating down into the now open water.

You shrieked, your eyes closing in expectation for something that would never come. Law let his free hand curl around your waist, steadying you against him. After a moment, you opened your eyes and looked up at him. It was like deja vu, seeing you look up at him like this, except this time, instead of looking at him with relief during a tearful reunion, it was with fear as you grappled to make sense of what had just happened. You clutched your hands into his coat, looking over your shoulder at the huge break in the ice. "You're ok," Law said, wanting to do something to comfort you instead of just standing there, "I swapped your position at the last minute."

You breathed a shaky sigh of relief, allowing your head to fall against his chest. This close to him, Law could feel your heartbeat racing unnaturally fast, and he pulled you a little closer out of instinct.

After a few moments, you finally pulled away, decidedly calmer than you were seconds ago. You lifted your head and looked over your shoulder once more, a sheepish look on your face. "I guess you were right to worry about me..." you said, your voice trailing off as you frowned. Law didn't say anything, biting back his immediate retort. You sighed, a slightly sadder look crossing your face. "It's a shame. I really liked that scarf."

At this, he frowned. "You know I can just get it for you," he said, only slightly bothered by the notion that you didn't think he was capable of it. He did so easily, the scarf appearing in his outstretched hand before he finally let his room fade.

You looked back at him, an easy smile on your face despite the ordeal that had happened only seconds ago. "Thanks, but it's probably a lost cause. It's made of wool." You stood up abruptly, Law's arm that had been curled around you protectively falling away at the unexpected move. For a moment, you were fine, but you must have forgotten that you were in your skates and not your boots, the blade making it almost impossible to balance when not on the ice, especially for you. With a shriek, you were falling backwards. "Oh crap!"

Law let out a strangled noise before he grabbed you by the arm, yanking you back into his chest. "Why don't you sit down and put your boots back on," he insisted, watching as you nodded before letting you go.

You sat down easily enough and began untying your skates. Law sighed for what must have been the hundredth time just that day, but began to quickly squeeze the water out of the end of the scarf that had fallen into the lake. He hung it up on a low tree branch nearby, hoping the breeze would help dry it off quickly without it sustaining too much damage.

When he returned, you were sitting and staring out at the lake, both your boots on and the skates off to your side. You seemed lost in thought, and after a few moments of standing there awkwardly, he finally sat beside you.

"I'm sorry, Captain," you said softly, something akin to resignation in your voice. "I'm always making trouble for you by being an airhead. I must be quite the burden."

Law's heart clenched as he mulled over the right thing to say. If it were anyone else, he'd have already told them off, but he never could treat you like he did everyone else.

"It's true that you make trouble for me," he started. You winced, visibly bothered by the blunt admission. "But," he continued, his voice softening in a way he hadn't intended, "you're never a burden to me. It's my job as your Captain to protect you."

You were silent at first, and Law wondered briefly if he'd said the wrong thing. He was about to backtrack and say something more like his usual self, when you spoke, your voice low. "Is that it?

"Is what it?" he asked, confused.

You raised your head slowly, and the look in your eyes made his breath catch in his throat. You looked right at him, something unreadable brewing in your eyes as you frowned. "Is that really all it is? Just your job as my Captain?"

He wanted to say yes, to cut off the conversation right there and deny any additional feelings that may or may not be involved, but something about the way you were looking at him made him pause. Something about it unsettled him deeply and needled at his subconscious. The longer he looked at you, the longer he saw something that looked awfully close to hope staring back at him.

He exhaled, a mixture of resignation and finality. "No," he admitted, his voice quiet, "It's not."

"Then what is it?" you pressed, scooting closer to him as you brushed your fingers against his own.

"You should know already what I mean," he snapped, his face flushing as he looked away. You were always so difficult, so stubborn. It made him want to yell at you and kiss you at the same time. Such conflicting feelings.

"I want you to say it," you said, your pinky curling around his as you shifted closer again. "I won't make assumptions. Please, Law."

The soft call of his name from your lips made his heart stutter. You never referred to him by his first name, and to hear you do so—to listen to you say it like a plea—was enough to break him. He forced himself to look you in the eyes as he shifted your hand, his fingers intertwining fully with yours.

"I don't want to just protect you as your Captain. I want to protect you as something precious to me." The admission slipped easily off his lips, and if the way you squeezed his hand and let your head fall against his shoulder was any indication, it was exactly what you'd wanted to hear. "I'd like to do that, if that's something you want."

"Of course it is," you replied, your voice muffled against his shoulder. You lifted your head, your face now just inches from his. "I've wanted that for a really long time now. Ever since I first saw you, I think." Law felt himself drawn to you. His eyes flickered down to your lips as he allowed himself to lean in closer to you. "That's a long time," was all he could muster in response, his thoughts utterly consumed by how close you were to him and the overwhelming urge to kiss you.

You huffed out a laugh, your eyes bright as you looked at him. Law let his free hand drift up to cup your face, his thumb tracing gently across your cheek. You melted into his touch, your body relaxing further against his side. After a moment of hesitation, Law finally met you in the middle, his hand drawing you closer and his lips pressing into yours for a brief, fleeting moment. He pulled away, but you chased after him, your lips pressing firmly into his own. It felt natural, and a knot finally loosened in his chest as he allowed himself to indulge in you.

You pulled away this time, slightly breathless and with a satisfied smile. Law couldn't help a small smile of his own from pulling at his lips. "That's a sight I could get used to," he said, a new warmth in his voice as he took in the sight of you.

The two of you began to make your way back to town, your skates thrown over his shoulder and your hands intertwined. You were both quiet, simply enjoying one another's presence as the snow continued to fall slowly. One day, he thought absently, he'd unburden himself to you. He'd explain everything about Flevance, about Doflamingo, about Corazon, about how those memories, those ghosts, had haunted him for most of his life. One day, he'd explain how all those things weren't so bad with you by his side, how you make it so much easier for him to move on, to relax.

But for now, he'd just enjoy the moment, the warmth he had in his heart from simply being at your side warmer than any winter he'd ever experience.

ღ radishaur — i do not own any of these characters. do not plagiarize. please enjoy and remember to be respectful! 

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader part 11

<;-----part 10, part 12----->

A/N: Ik DogDay has human looking hands but I just like calling them paws and the term for the equivalent of a finger to a dogs paw is called a digit so I used that in the story. Okay I'll stop talking now.

I sat on the examination bed in anticipation. It’s been four weeks. Four weeks of being trapped at my parents' house. Four weeks of having to deal with my mother pestering me every day. Four weeks that I worried that Damian might not be at Playcare anymore. And four weeks that I haven’t seen DogDay.  

A knock interrupted my thoughts. “Miss Y/N?” The door opened and the doctor came back with the x ray results. I’ve been doing everything I needed to heal properly and return to work. “Alright Miss Y/N, good news! It seems like you are healed up completely and no longer need to wear a boot.” “Yes!” I covered my mouth and apologized for my sudden burst. 

“No need to apologize. Seems like this is an early Christmas present for you.” “Indeed, it is.” I was overjoyed then. I can finally leave my parents' house and go back to work! The doctor prescribed me some medicine just in case I felt any pain later. I thanked the doctor, went to the waiting room and saw my dad looking at a newspaper. 

“I’m back.” He looked up from the paper and smiled before folding down the paper. “Hey kiddo. What’s the verdict?” “All healed up.” He smiled and nodded while standing up to leave the clinic. “You know your mom will be hurt that you’re all better; she’s hoping you’d stay with us till’ New Years.” “Sorry not sorry.” My dad knew what I meant when I said that, and he understood why I said that. “Just be careful when you go back to work.” “I will.” 

--------------- 

Unlocking my door to my place felt so nice. I smiled and sighed as I walked in and shut the door behind me. “Hello home.” I said to no one in particular. I noticed that by the door there was a lot of mail. I should’ve had one of my parents come by and collect these for me. I picked them up and started going through them. “Junk, junk, junk, more junk-wait a minute.” I went back to the previous envelope and took another look at it. It was addressed to me; Angel. 

My heart began to race as I ripped open the envelope. “My darling Angel, it has been almost four weeks since we last spoke. I hope that you are feeling better and that you will be able to return to us soon. Yes, that’s right Angel; us. Damian is still here.” My eyes were watering up as I read. Thank the stars Damian was still there. “And don’t worry my Angel; BB has stayed far away from me. Her helper Edward was a little peeved that we kinda sorta ruined her fur, but I don’t really care.” I chuckled. I knew he would be upset with that. 

--------------- 

I finished reading DogDay’s letter and went out to the fabric store for his gift. In his letter he said he had a gift for me and that he was excited to give it to me. I looked up a pattern online for what I wanted to make for DogDay and hoped that they had what I needed. Shopping near Christmas is a very hit or miss kinda situation. 

--------------- 

I was practically jumping in excitement as I saw Playcare. It looked so decked out with decorations. In the center where the statues of the Smiling Critters were at was a Christmas tree. As I got lower into Playcare I could see garland wrapped around the Bron lamps. There also seemed to be snow. Not real snow but fake snow for the children. The cable car soon came to a halt, and I exited while carrying DogDays gift in my hand. 

There were some children running around, sleighing down the hill, building snowmen; it warmed my heart to be back. I looked around and spotted Damian up by the duck pawn with Miley. I smiled and started making my way up to them when I heard Hoppy call out to me. “Hey you’re back!” She hopped over to me and gave me a tight hug. When she set me down she shouted, “Hey kids! Angels back!”  

All the kids that were outside stopped in their tracks and looked over to me and Hoppy before saying, “Angel!!!” The kids ran up to me and surrounded me while asking me questions and hugging me at the same time. “What happened?” “Why’d you leave?” “Did you die?” I did my best to hug each child that came up to me. “I had an injury and needed to go away for a while and no I did not die, haha.” “Miss Y/N!” I looked up and saw Damian was in the back of the crowd.  

I excused myself from the kids around me and made my way towards Damian. Once I got close Damain tackled me in a hug almost making me lose my balance. “You’re back!” He said while crying. “Damian! I’m so lucky I got to see you again. I was afraid that you wouldn’t be here; but after reading DogDays letter and knowing that you were still here, I was counting down the seconds that I could return to you both.”  

Hoppy tapped on my shoulder while saying, “Don’t mean to interrupt but I wanted to tell you something.” I let go of Damian and turned to face Hoppy. “So, you know how in the show Belle and the Beast waltz? Well, I heard from CatNap that DogDay has been wanting to do that scene with you and so he and Sarah have been practicing since she’s about the same height as you and he can't remember how you guys waltz before. They’ve been practicing once a week, and you are here on the day that they practice so I think it’ll be a good surprise to have you be seen by DogDay then.”  

I really wanted to see DogDay now, but I liked what Hoppy had suggested. “Okay, I’m in.” She clapped her hands together before grabbing onto my hand and leading me to the school. “Awesome! Now we just have to hide you until bedtime; that’s when they rehearse.” Damian and Miley followed behind me as we entered the school. “Where is DogDay?” “He’s been couped up in your office. He assigned me to your guy's group. You not being here really took a toll on him.” My heart sunk when she said that. He would probably be a little better if I had written back to him. Once I see him, I’ll explain why I couldn’t and hopefully he won’t be upset. 

--------------- 

Hoppy led me into the cafeteria and told me that this is where they practice at. “Mmmk, now you’ll just wait behind these curtains for a while while I go and find Sarah to tell her about the plan.” I gave her a thumbs up and she took Damian and Miley back with the rest of the kids. They both said they wanted to stay and watch, and she said they could if they could solve a math problem, she gave them. They both groaned in disappointment, but I chuckled. I’d have to have either Sarah or Hoppy record us, that way I can show them later. 

Once they left I sat down behind the curtain still holding DogDays gift in hand. I then thought about what to give Damian. After a moment of thinking I thought of the perfect gift. I wouldn’t give it to him tomorrow since I didn’t know how long the process would be, but I knew he would happily wait for it. I got on my phone and searched up how to adopt a child from Playtime. 

--------------- 

I fell asleep while waiting for DogDay and Sarah to come and the sound of DogDays voice woke me up. “Angel should be back any day now so let’s do our best tonight, Sarah.” “Um before we start, I have a suggestion. Why don’t I go put on something similar to what Y/N will be wearing, that way you like don’t step on her dress when she’s here.” “That’s a great idea Sarah! I really appreciate you helping me out with this.” “No prob.” I heard Sarah saying while popping her gum. 

I listened closely as Sarah left the cafeteria but then heard another set of footsteps near me. “Psst.” I looked over and saw that it was Hoppy. “Here.” She handed me the dress that Belle wears. “Go ahead and change. I’m gonna go out there and dj.” “Thank you. Oh, and here, take my phone.” I handed her my phone and she winked at me before leaving to give me privacy to change. 

“Hey there boss.” I could hear Hoppy say to DogDay. “Hoppy? What are you doing here?” “Oh I’m just here to dj. Sarah asked me to help with you guys tonight.” DogDay didn’t say anything but I’m guessing he was okay with this. “Now you just face this way alright?” “Um why?” “Don’t question me.” I then heard the music start to play. Suddenly, my hands felt sweaty. “Alright come on out!” I swallowed and opened the curtain.  

DogDays back was to me. Once I saw him I felt calm and no longer nervous. Hoppy was grinning and she pulled out my phone and started recording. “Hey that looks like Angel's pho-” DogDay stopped mid-sentence and slowly turned around. He turned and once he saw me his tail began wagging. I stepped down from the stage and walked over to him. Once I got close to him, I curtsy and said, “May I have this dance?” He wiped away a tear and bowed while saying, “It would be an honor to dance with you, Angel.”  

I motioned him to come a little bit closer. “I don’t remember the dance.” I whispered while laughing. He laughed to and said, “Not to worry Angel.” He picked me up and had one arm around my waist; and the other paw held my hand. “I’ll lead~”  

--------------- 

The whole moment felt magical; even though it was really just DogDay waltzing. Once the song had ended, he dipped me down and stared at me with such happiness. He then lifted me up and then we both saw CatNaps tail lower above us holding a mistle toe. “Go on! Kiss her! You know you want to! Haha.” Hoppy was still recording us. “You don’t have to tell me twice Hoppy!”  

DogDay closed the gap between us and kissed me on the lips. I closed my eyes and kissed him back. After a while we pulled back for some air. “I’ve missed you, Angel.” “I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry that I didn’t respond to your letter. I had no idea that you sent one and-” DogDay put a paw finger (digit) up to my lips while saying, “Shh. We can talk later. Right now, I just want to kiss you~” I smiled against his paw finger (digit), and he moved it away and kissed me again. “Oh I’m totally gonna show this to BB and KC.” 

A/N: Reunited at last.

[jaeedraszaerysz]

JON SNOW ☆ DATING HCS

SFW 💕💕

It would probably take him a while to trust you if you hadn't known him very long.

If you grew up with or close to the Starks he tried to befriend you before Robb did

He would always be scared that he would steal your heart away

You would spend hours mocking the men and women of the courts

When Robert Baratheon came to visit you both sat outside taking the piss out of all the Lords and ladies and any twat who dared speak low of either of you.

Tyrion Lannister defos assumed u were a couple and when you told him otherwise, he just shook his head.

Catelyn would probably despise you for being so close to him.

Ned would love you though, thanking the gods silently that the boy had someone by his side.

He would probably have kissed you before he left for the nights watch and spent his nights wondering whether leaving you was worth it all.

When you eventually found your way back to him it was rather chaotic.

You were probably interrogated by tormund on arrival

Atleast until Jon saw you, never forgetting your face.

You probably punched him square in the face and then proceeded to have a huge, westeros equivalent of Oscar worthy, makeput session infront of everyone.

Ghost, when not growling at random twats, would act like a second protector when Jon wasn't by your side.

Arya either loves you or hates you

Sansa is, just like her father was, happy Jon has someone.

Bran doesn't care. He's too busy wheeling around doing seven eyes Sparrow shit or whatever he called it.

You and Davos defos spend ages tryna talk some sense into him.

He always seems to be holding you in some way

Whether it be your arm, hand, waist. He would probably play with your hands or you hair often.

Is always bloody staring

Like never stops

His eyes are for you and only you

Takes. You. Everywhere.

Like no debates. He goes, you follow. Or vice versa.

He took you with him to meet with ramsay and if he made any comment whatsoever it was straight up a routine by now.

Death stare, holds onto you twelve times tighter, kills the offender within 24 hours.

Loves it when you fall asleep on him because he's happy you feel safe with him.

Head kisses.

Need I say more?

Everywhere anytime.

Head. Fucking. Kisses.

Walking past. Head kiss.

Sat next to him at dinner. Head kiss.

In an extremely serious situation requiring your full attention. Head kiss.

Dying. Head kiss.

It's like his fucking bread and butter.

When you first met daenerys it was bad vibes.

Like very bad.

No clue why she just doesn't sit right with you.

Either grows to love you or ends up hating you with a passion.

No in-between.

He dreams of having a normal life.

He would want three kids, two boys and girl so they could protect their sister.

Maybe another direwolf or four. One for each and one for you.

Can't sleep when you aren't next to him.

Teaches you to sword fight extremely early on in your relationship.

If you were ill or pregnant he would never leave your side.

Never ever ever never.

He's convinced that you could have a hundred children and you would still be the person he loves most in the world.

Would do anything for you.

Minors DNI below this line.

NSFW ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 (implied female reader)

Worships you like no one else

Touching you always.

Passes it off for his hand on your back but in reality he's secretly caressing your ass, or will have his arms under your cloak, passing it off as a hug, and will gently squeeze your boobs.

Neck kisses.

His favourite thing in the world.

Loves to leave marks on you wherever he can.

Has definitely kissed every inch of your body

Gives no fucks about scars or hair or anything of the sort.

Boobs.

Lives laughs loves your boobs.

Will lay with his face buried in them at any time.

Minor inconvenience? Someone was being a twat? He's tired?

Boob pillow.

Will eat you out for hours.

Insatiable.

You have any problems at all? Sit on his face.

If he's had a bad day he will legit just stuff his face between your thighs.

His fave place.

Says that if you suffocated him it would be an amazing way to go.

Probably prefers giving but he will never say no to receiving.

His dick is probs like 6-7 inches.

Takes tormunds advice very seriously.

Loves to see how many fingers you can take before he stuffs you.

Will go for as many rounds as you need.

Always a gentleman, making sure your comfortable and that your satisfied.

Cockwarming he loves.

Cuddles afterwards.

He will slide out of you and pull you onto on him, pulling the blankets up and wrapping his body around yours.

Calls you love but with his gorgeous deep voice.

Has a sexy asf morning voice.

He's so whipped for you he can't function somedays.

[accioepiphany]

Turns out I've never really watched Groundhog Day before, but I just did and I have some thoughts about it and about the song I Got You Babe, which is a leitmotiv in the film... and it happens to also be featured more than once in this last season of The Bear:

(more under the cut)

The first time we hear the song in the show is in Groundhogs, while Groundhog Day plays in the background, it wakes Carmy up, in almost the same way that it does on the film. Here it is a sort of signifier that Carmy is repeating the same day. Then it is featured on Green (the 8th episode) it's used in a montage of food right after Sydney wakes up from her dream in the theater. After the song, she calls Shapiro and tells him she is not going with him. So for her it signifies the opposite, it's she getting out of the loop... However, it's also she choosing love, because as Shapiro tells her, it makes no sense for her to stay on a sinking ship, but she is not choosing The Bear because it is a wise career move, she is choosing it because it is the place where her heart is.

Going back to Groundhog Day, it is a romance, there's no way around it. (Spoilers ahead) Sure, it is also about Phil changing heart and becoming a better person, being less narcissistic, thinking and acting for others, etc. BUT it is mainly about him learning to love, even in the romantic sense, which is what happens with Rita. Right before he is about to get out of the loop, he confesses his love for her and tells her that even if he is not good enough for her, his love will remain unchanged. Which is sort of a selfless decision, considering that for him there's nothing in return... as he is stuck in a loop in which every day is the same one: a day in which she doesn't love him.

This scene, by the way, looks like this:

and her hair and the snow... I'm sorry but there's gotta be a parallel with this:

This is also the episode Green... though there's a glimpse as well in the first shot we get in Groundhogs, this time she is lying on the floor, and she opens her eyes to a buzzer, which is Carmy's timer in his scene with Mikey...

I feel that shot in the dream is a sort of sign, the way the song is a sign in Groundhog Day... Here are the lyrics:

They say our love won't pay the rent Before it's earned, our money's all been spent I guess that's so, we don't have a pot But at least I'm sure of all the things we got Babe I got you babe, I got you babe

For Groundhog's Day is the equivalent of "All you need is love" lol, which ends up being the key to leaving the time loop Phil is in. But for The Bear I think the lyrics are even more poignant because it's sort of a "We'll go into debt together and it doesn't matter cause we got each other", It's basically what Syd's doing by renouncing Shapiro...

But then, why is the song only playing for Carmy at the beginning, but not when he is supposed to be out of the time loop? (either episode 3 when he runs to Claire or episode 10 when he announces he is leaving... I'm really not sure about Storer's intentions anymore lol but I'm also not giving him any more credit cause at this point he hasn't earned it and the story is beyond him)

My theory is that he is making a mistake, and his decision is not getting him out of the loop in the ways he expects. For him to actually get out he has to choose love... and love in the sense of the song:

Then put your little hand in mine There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb

I got you, I won't let go I got you to love me so

He has to come back and understand that the only way around the issues, the trauma, and the narcissism is together (He and Sydney... and in the big picture everyone else at The Bear too). That the love for her, and actually for the food and for cooking (I don't get the nonsense that Carmy now hates cooking forever... what??), will get him out of the loop. Not the running away... the running away only got Phil (from Groundhog Day) more stuck.

[ltwilliammowett]

The capture of U.S.S. President off New York, 14th January 1815 by John Benthyam-Dinsdale

On this day;- 15th January 1815 the 44 gun frigate USS President was captured.

She was a wooden-hulled, three-masted heavy frigate of the United States Navy, nominally rated at 44 guns; she was launched on 10th April 1800 from a shipyard in New York City and started her maiden voyage on 5th August 1800.

Her first duties with the newly formed United States Navy were to provide protection for American merchant shipping during the Quasi War with France and to engage in a punitive expedition against the Barbary pirates in the First Barbary War.

thOn 16 May 1811, President was at the center of the Little Belt affair; her crew mistakenly identified HMS Little Belt as HMS Guerriere, which had impressed an American seaman. The ships exchanged cannon fire for several minutes. Subsequent U.S. and Royal Navy investigations placed responsibility for the attack on each other without a resolution. The incident contributed to tensions between the U.S. and Great Britain that led to the War of 1812.

During the war, President made several extended cruises, patrolling as far away as the English Channel and Norway; she captured the armed schooner HMS Highflyer and numerous merchant ships.

In December 1814 Commodore Stephen Decatur assumed command of President, planning a cruise to the West Indies to prey on British shipping.

Commodore Hayes, commanding His Britannic Majesty's frigates Endymion, Pomone and Tenedos, carrying his flag in the Majestic, was on blockade duty off New York in early January 1815. Blown off station by a violent snow-storm on the 14th, he guessed that Commodore Decatur would seize this opportunity to get his USS President out to sea, and further correctly guessed Decatur's likely course. Consequently, at daylight on the 15th, President appeared "as if by rendezvous". some five miles ahead of the British squadron. The chase was on. The day began with strong winds but these eased progressively until by the afternoon there was so little wind that all ships were carrying every stitch of canvas.

Following crushing defeats in single-ship frigate actions earlier in the war, the Royal Navy had realised that its standard frigate classes were no match for American heavy frigates such as President, whcih was some fifty percent larger, stronger and more heavily armed. But by 1815 the British had formulated responses to this threat, and Hayes' squadron was a perfect example. His flagship Majestic was a "razee", a cut-down 74-gun battleship, and more than a match for the President if it could only catch it. Endymion...was the nearest equivalent the British had to President, a heavy frigate not far short of the American's size and weight of fire. The squadron had two other frigates as well.

Most importantly on this day, Endymion had the speed to catch the American...Endymion surged on ahead and after a chase of seven hours gradually began to overhaul President despite every resource Decatur employed to escape. The two ships were firing steadily at each other from 2 pm onwards. The winter sunset was at 4.45 pm; still they fought on at close range. Around 8 pm aboard Endymion it seemed that President had ceased fire and they even believed that Decatur had surrendered; but the American dismantling shot had wrecked Endymion's sails and she had no boats left to take the surrender, so she stood off to bend six new sails...before resuming the chase. By now the rest of the British squadron had caught up, and at 11.40 pm it was HMS Tenedos that finally took the American flagship's surrender.

The captured USS President escorted by HMS Endymion arriving at Spithead on 28 March. President was commissioned into the Royal Navy under the name HMS President. Her initial rating was set at 50 guns, although she was at this stage armed with 60 cannons—thirty 24-pounders on the upper deck, twenty-eight 42-pounder carronades on the spar deck, plus two more 24-pounder guns on the forecastle. In February 1817 she was again re-rated, this time to 60 guns..

In March 1818 she was considered for refitting. A drydock inspection revealed that the majority of her timber was defective or rotten and she was broken up at Portsmouth in June.

[monsoonceroom]

New Spy x Family chapter! Let's Gooooo!

So Damian & co (but mostly Damian) are studying when the above drops. I did google this & apparently 'Mitera' means 'Mother' in Greek, so this is likely their version of Ancient Greece. Pretty neat imo.

With Ostania's economy probably in shambles after the war, I wonder if this boom was partially because of the country's citizens hoping for a way to get back on their feet financially by selling some sweet ancient relics.

It's nice to know that they had twitter in 1960/1970's Ostania. Weak joke, I know.

Anyways, treasure hunting happens & while the boys are in proper attire, the 3 butlers are in suits in the middle of a freakin' forest. This would be absolutely miserable in real life. However, with this being Spy x Family, I automatically assume they're much too professional to allow even a single speck of dirt to sully their clothes & will be vaporized immediately.

Also, it looks like their hair colors are inversions of the kids? Instead of 1 brunette & 2 blonds, it's 2 brunettes & 1 blond. Also that Egeberg butler does look pretty fine.

Shush you! Damian already knows his family life is shit; let him be happy!

It's cute to see them explore the wonder's nature has to offer. Also did they not bring enough water, so they had to resort to drinking from waterfalls? Props for getting it from fast running water rather than a stagnant pool though.

STRRRIKE! Maybe I'm just exaggerating, but I lowkey wonder if Jeeves can give Martha a run for her money when it comes to physical prowess. While not much in terms of what we've already seen throughout the series (especially compared to Yor) I imagine not many people would have been able to use an acorn like a bullet.

:(

Have some food to cheer up, Damian!

Hold up; wild-caught venison? Did the butlers hunt deer while treasure hunting? They probably brought the food with them but the image of guys in suits stalking a deer is hilarious.

Lol, Ewen & Emile are like 'Did he just call us peasants?'.

Damian is calling upon the spirits to guide him.

Oh crap, it backfired & now he's possessed!

Not to worry! A kind spider has come to help!

Maybe the real treasure was the big ass flower we found along the way.

A quick google search says that 'Geschocran' when translated into English means 'Projectile Crane', so nothing too crazy there considering the pistil on that thing. I checked to see if maybe the name 'Witch's Crib' had any real-world equivalent although nothing came up aside from baby cribs & witch hazel. I wonder what the in-universe lore is on the 'Witch's Crib' name?

Goddamn kids these days & their helicopters. Back in MY day we had to wait hours in the car to get somewhere, uphill, both ways in the snow in 180 degree weather.

More sad Damian & Jeeves trying to talk to him about it. Also no one else is home? Where the frick did everyone go? Let's see; Melinda has her own place so she's probably chillin' there, Demetrius is likely studying at a library, & Donovan is, I don't know, concocting evil schemes in his lair or something.

Yooo! Damian's accusing Jeeves of being a snitch! At least Damian forgot he was sad.

KSKSKSKSKSKSKSKSK Looks like Damian tried to impress Anya & then complained to Jeeves about it later. I wouldn't doubt it if Jeeves is feeding Melinda info, but alas, we have no proof.

[juuuulez]

🎧 | are we still friends?, michael berzatto.

don’t get green skin (green skin), keep contact (keep contact) / don’t say, "goodbye, smell you later" (bye, later) / nah, i can't / i don't want to end this season on a bad episode.

writing this was really fucking brutal for me. i’ll do something nice and sweet another time because this was rooouuughh.

Established Mikey/You, platonic Richie/You, generally just sad stuff.

request a playlist roulette here!

Being with Mikey was warm. That’s the only way you could describe it. Warm in the way he’d look at you, the way he smiled, laughed. His tendency to touch everyone. Kisses on cheeks and hugs from the side. You wanted that in your life, you welcomed it, warmth and love.

But now it’s cold and the cold is biting. It’s harsh and relentless, seeping through layers of black silk, penetrating the nice coat you bought for this occasion. The cigarette between your lips flares with each inhale, a reddened spark you cup your hands over, in futile hopes that it’ll give off heat. It doesn’t.

“Nice shoes.” You remark the second they’re in your vision, black and shiny. It’s not like you look up, either, staring down at the pavement and Richie’s pointed dress shoes. But you know it’s him: you can smell his cologne mixing with the smoke in the air, creating a scent that’s harsh and bitter but seemingly appropriate.

“Thanks,” He mutters, following your gaze. “Tiff bought ‘em.”

You want to make fun of him. Make some stupid remark, berate him for folding so easily, for doing what she says with no complaint. It’s what you would’ve done, what Mikey would’ve done: Lettin’ her make you pretty, huh? What— you gonna be wearing lipstick next? It’s so close yet so far, you can basically hear it, and you’re sure Richie can hear it too.

“She around here?” You end up asking instead.

And Richie shakes his head, already lighting up a cigarette. “Had to go relieve Eva’s babysitter. Some fuckin’ thirteen year-old from our street.”

“Yeah, well, one day she’s gonna be that thirteen year-old.”

The silence settles between you again, thick but not suffocating. Just there. You’re fine to leave it that way, you’ve been standing here regardless, leaning against a brick wall in the parking lot across from the funeral home. Five cigarette butts have fallen to your feet, and you intend on adding to the pile.

“Heading home after this?” Richie asks.

You don’t look up because you don’t want to see the look on his face. Worry. You hate worry, because you lived in worry. A perpetual fear, an anxiety settled deep in your gut, making your skin tingle and itch. But Mikey never seemed to mind; he taught you not to worry, to laugh more, to care less.

Look where that got you.

“Dunno,” You shrug, dropping the cigarette butt to the floor. It sizzles on some residual snow, which you squish down under your nice heels. “Was gonna try and back out of the lease.”

“Thought you loved that place?” Richie is quick to counter, “Y’know, green tiles and whatnot.”

It was a little apartment, one you’d found after hours of hunting. The green backsplash in the bathroom had caught your attention, and you’d spent days chatting anyone’s ear off about how you’d style it.

But now you shrug it off, appearing indifferent. “It’s not that big a deal.”

It’d been five weeks. Five weeks of domestic bliss, or, your equivalent to that. Of finding little trinkets and unique homewares to furnish the new place. Of getting excited after work, because you get to come home to your boyfriend, instead of an empty bed.

Boxes were still shoved into most corners of the place, not yet unpacked. For a moment you wondered if that was the intention. That, in not unpacking, Mikey was saving you the grief of eventually removing his presence from your place. He was making it easier, cutting out the middleman.

“Maybe Chicago isn’t for me.”

The words slip from your mouth before you can stop them, and you’ve finally looked up, meeting Richie’s gaze. It’s odd because he’s looking at you, and not at the same thing, like his mind is elsewhere. You get it. Your mind is also elsewhere.

“Fuckin’ stupid,” He mutters, shaking his head. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

So you shrug, another cigarette pinched between your teeth. You don’t remember lighting it. This weird haze has you on autopilot, you’ve been in it all morning. Maybe all week.

“I dunno. Might be good to get away for a bit.” You try to justify.

“Nah, fuck that. You’re not goin’ all alien on us,” Richie continues to contest. “There are people here for you. Y’know.. Tina ‘n all the cooks, and fuckin’.. fucking Fak, and Nat.”

“Natalie said—“

“I know what she fuckin’ said, it’s bullshit.”

Richie flicks out his cigarette, letting it drop into your little pile. His jacket is ironed and those shiny shoes are covered in snow, and for the first time in ages, he looks nice. You notice it. You notice the effort he’s put in, despite everything, and you know he feels the way you do.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” He begins. “You’re gonna come to The Beef once a week. Eat a sandwich, talk to us, ‘n shit. And you’re gonna come to family, too. Always.”

There’s a grimace on your face at the idea. Stepping foot in the restaurant seems like a colossal task, let alone attending family. Because that’s the thing, you weren’t family, not anymore. You’d hoped that one day you would be, for certain, a Berzatto. And now that wouldn’t happen.

“I’ll try.” You end up saying, even if dread builds in your stomach. It’s the most you can do.

Richie seems to understand, letting the silence linger for another moment. “C’mon,” He sighs. “We’re getting a drink. I’m gonna pull one smile outta you tonight.”

The notion of smiling, today, seems foreign. Yet you obey regardless, following along as Richie’s hand finds your back, and he swipes the cigarette from your mouth to throw into the snow.

It ends up being a good night. As good as it can be, at least. Each memory shared, each story told is laced with an underlying bitterness, something that settles on your tongue and behind your eyes. It’s thick and equally cold as the air; prickling like goosebumps. Richie feels it too. Everyone does, but you convince yourself that it’s not forever, that it’ll go away and the warmth will return.

[oh-my-wolfstar]

@wolfstarmicrofic

Dec. 5, prompt: Boxing

word count: 249

note: inspired by that scene in Fourth WIng where Violet watches Xaden sparring.

Remus made a mental note to get Fleamont Potter a nice gift the next time he saw him. A really nice one. See, Fleamont had apparently taught James and Sirius how to box over the winter holidays. Or at least, the wizard equivalent which involved cushioning charms around one's fists. But that wasn't the point. The point was that the snow had finally melted enough for Sirius and James to resume their new favorite pastime. They had dragged Remus along the day before, against his will but today he had returned voluntarily. Sirius and James boxed shirtless, and when Remus happened to mention this fact to Lily, she insisted on coming along to keep him company. So here they were. Remus watched as Sirius and James fought, the muscles in Sirius's back and arms rippling with each punch and block. Sweat slid down his abs and Merlin, Remus thought he was going to combust. At least he wouldn't be alone, judging by Lily's flushed cheeks and firm gaze pinned on James. 

"Gods, you're pathetic." Marlene McKinnon's voice startled them out of their reverie. 

"What?" Lily asked.

"You're pathetic, staring at them and drooling." 

"We are not! were simply… admiring this fine sport!" Remus said too innocently

"Sure you are," Marlene smirked. Sirius threw another punch at James and the way he moved, swift and somehow graceful, drew Remus's attention.

"You could just tell them you like them." Marlene said, her voice softer. 

"Never." Remus and Lily said in unison.  

[readychilledwine]

Cuckold

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

Quick authors note- It feels a little ironic to be using Rhys and Feyre for this kink since one of my favorite Eris lines comes from when he's chasing Feyre and Lucien.

“Right. Rumor has it you two have run off together, cuckolding Tamlin.” His grin widened. “I didn’t think you had it in you, little brother.”

Anyways! Traditionally, a cuckold is a husband or boyfriend of a person who has sex with other people (be it cheating, sex work, separated). In modern kink terms, cuckold, or a cuck for short, is when a man gets sexual arousal through watching his partner have sex with someone else. There is a female equivalent, cuckquean, but I made the choice to focus on poor Rhysie being left out.

This type of play falls into the voyeurism and exhibitionist category but has become a type of play that is having an increase in popularity (and hurt feelings from insecure partners). Part of the appeal of cucking is mental degradation and humiliation, another is competitive drive.

This type of play requires security on both ends and understanding from the third party involved. This typically isn't a type of play you'd want to engage in with a stranger you do not trust, nor someone who is too close to the couple. While all parties are consenting, the first time around this kink can be interesting and cause some potentially bad results if not handled with tack. Open communication and safe words are a must in this type of play regardless of if restraints or anything else gets brought in. The last thing anyone would ever want is a relationship ending over something that was supposed to be fun 💜

💕Peep the Valentines Day List Here💕

💙 Peep Bound by Fate if you haven't since Kaylee makes a brief appearance 💙

As always, NSFW below the cut

Feysand x Helion

Warnings - voyeurism, dirty talk, unprotected sex, surprise third party, Helion's thighs mentioned, post pregnancy body insecurities, restraints

A/N - There's a brief Kaylee appearance. Nesta would have been too jealous, Elain would have gotten shy, Kaylee is just confused on why she's getting to see Helion's thighs on a random Tuesday.

“I would have never taken you for this kind of male, Rhysand.” Helion glanced out the window, overlooking the beautiful snow capped valley Rhysand had hidden for years.

Rhys sighed. “She needs it and I am not against it. She has not felt as confident as she once was in her body, and having not one but two high lords worshiping her may be the answer.”

A single perfect brow went up as Helion shot Rhysand a questioning look. “Did the little heir?”

“Stretch mark scarring, she's a little less toned. I think she looks twice as delicious as before, but she does not believe me.”

Helion nodded, eyes sympathetic and soft. “Motherhood is hard. She's exhausted, she's losing her sense of self, her hands probably do not even feel like her own anymore. It is understandable she feels less appealing to you lately.”

A soft knock on the door had Rhys standing, moving to it with a smile. “Hi, honeybee.”

“Rhysie!” Kaylee paused, eyes locked on Helion. “What are Helion and his thighs doing here?” Helion snorted, looking to the youngest sister with a smirk as she crossed the room.

“Mother above, Kaylee.” Azriel entered behind her. Kaylee had already gone to the bassinet, picking up her cooing nephew. “How long are we taking him for?”

Rhys and Helion shrugged, causing Azriel to pause before grabbing Kaylee. “What's wrong, shadowsinger? Don't want her to get ideas?”

“From you? Absolutely not. Let's go, baby.” Azriel took her and Nyx away before Kaylee could question the impromptu date night and the appearance of the Day Lord. “She's still adorably innocent,” Helion looked to Rhys. “You must convince her to play next.”

Rhys shook his head, eyes wide in fear. “Not Kaylee you'd have to convince.”

Surprising Feyre had been easy. She arrived home to Helion sitting in Rhysand's spot at the table. “Hello beautiful.”

The smile that graced her face was capable of moving mountains. “Helion! What are you doing here?”

He motioned towards the table. “Your mate got a little tied up, asked me to come have dinner with you.”

“Let me go grab Nyx-”

“No need to do that, Feyre. He's with that sweet little sister and her brooding mate.”

Feyre paused, “What is Rhys tied up with then?”

“Currently?” Helion set down his glass of wine, shifting in his seat and uncrossing his legs. “Spidersilk based ropes. We can change that if you would like, though.” It was then that soft tug came, calming her and letting her know that everything was okay. “He's quite pretty when he's bound up. Would you like to see?”

The answer she gave was breathless, eyes fluttered shut. “Yes.”

He stood, taking her hand in his and leading her to her own bedroom. Rhysand glared at Helion from the chair he was tied down to before smirking at his wife. “Hello, Feyre Darling.” He tried to pull at the ropes again before rolling his eyes. “When you told me to ask Azriel to tie me down, I had imagined other places, Helion.”

The lord of day shrugged, hands lingering on Feyre's upper arms as he stood behind her. “You said you watched to watch me fuck your wife,” those hands slid down bringing one of her own to his lips. “You also said you did not know if you could handle it. Restraints seemed to be the perfect solution.”

Rhys leaned his head back, smiling towards the ceiling. “Go ahead then,” he motioned between them the best he could. “Fuck her if she'll have you.”

Soft lips came to Feyre's ear as she stared at Rhys with a questioning look. “You have control, beautiful. If you want me to leave, I will leave. If you want me in your bed, I will be in your bed.”

Feyre released a breath, all thoughts leaving her mind. “My body-”

“Is wonderful, magic, and stunning,” Helion kissed the tip of her pointed ear, relishing in the way she shivered. “You created life, selflessly for the male sitting in that chair.”

Rhysand's eyes had darkened, the scent of his arousal already filling the air as he watched Helion's hands move to the bed of Feyre's dress and soft kisses continued on her ear. “I know you want to, darling.”

“My body-” Helion looked to Rhys and put a hand to Feyre's mouth silencing her before forcing her to walk to the mirror in their room.

“Look at you. Look at every beautiful blessed inch of you.” The command went straight through her, settling in her core as it did. His hands found the ties of her dress. He searched her face for any sign of true resistance and hesitation before pulling and watching the fabric fall. “You are sensational, Feyre. Your new curves fit so beautifully.” Her eyes fluttered shut, body leaning against his for the heat. “Let me show you, exactly how beautiful I find you?”

She nodded, turning in his arms. The first kiss was testing, slow and gentle to see if there'd be more than a soft groan coming from her mate. She pulled apart in time for Helion to lift her, carrying her to the bed and laying her down so her head would hang over the edge, staring directly at Rhysand as he squirmed against the restraints.

He wasted no time, kissing down her neck, smirking at the soft noises he so easily was pulling from her. “So sensitive,” he nipped gently at her pulse point, eyes looking to where Rhys was already struggling. “I'd love to worship you, Feyre, but your mate is already struggling from how badly he'd like to join.”

“Fuck him,” she whispered softly.

Helion couldn't help the feline like smirk gracing his face as Rhys glared. “We will. Later.” He flipped her below him, fingers going to the waist of her panties before bringing them down her muscled legs.

His skilled fingers found her core, running up and down before pushing in. Feyre whined loudly, eyes rolling before snuggling into the bed and pushing her hips back. Helion set a rhythm, pumping those digits into her to open her up , curling them as he needed to and saw fit to turn her into a mess.

He heard Rhys whimper, eyes rolling as his head went back and he knew. He knew Feyre was sending every drop of pleasure she felt down the bond, ensuring Rhysand felt it to. Her own moans began to increase as her hips met every movement of his fingers. “Look at your mate,” Helion commanded. “Look at your mate as you cum on my fingers.”

She fell apart easily, body and mind so ready and wanting for attention. She screamed his name, whimpering softly as she rode a wave of bliss. He worked her through the high through every second of her walls clenching around those fingers. When he finally pulled them out, he brought them to her lips, cock twitching as he got the smallest preview of what the High Lady could do.

Rhysand hadn't taken his eyes off of them. His cock was aching and leaking as he watched Helion remove his pleaded clothing before forcing Feyre onto her hands and knees. She sent him every single second of pleasure as Helion's cock pushed into her, stretching her wider than his did. “Fuck,” Rhys muttered under his breath, pulling and moving to try to free himself and at least work his cock.

She looked so pretty, mouth hung open as she moaned loudly, eyes squeezed shut in bliss. Helion's eyes met his and Rhys nodded, hoping the desperation of needing to watch Feyre be fucked and cum for another male wasn't etched into his beautiful features.

Helion gave her a teasing thrust, cock twitching at the whine that came back from it. “How do you want it?”

“Hard.” The need in her tone made his hands grip the plush skin of her hips tighter.

“As the High lady commands.”

Lightning shot through Feyre and Rhys as soon as Helion began that punishing pace. He was hitting every single one of her nerves, heavy cock stretching her wider than she'd ever been. She looked down, lost in enjoying her pleasure only to have him tangle a large hand into her hair, pulling her head back up. “Look at him. Look at how much power you have over him, at how damn desperate he is.”

Rhys was moving constantly in the chair now, growling occasionally with Feyre's moans of Helion's name. He longed to be under her, licking and sucking her clit as Helion rode her, fucking her into a mindless state of bliss.

As if sensing what Rhysand wanted, Heliha's free hand moved to her core, circling her bundle of nerves with gentle fingers. “Oh gods, yes!” Feyre was so close already all three of them could taste it. Her orgasm was humming in the air, crackling like electricity and fire. “Fuck! Keep going, please!”

Helion looked to Rhys again, seeing the male squirm, back arching off the chair as his jaw arched. A damp spot stained his dark slacks, growing by the second as he watched, as he felt. He began pounding into Feyre harder, feeling her walls begin twitching more and more.

It was as if time slowed when they both came. Mountains shaking, the sky switching from a sunset to full blown night. She was screaming his name while Rhys roared hers.

Helion fell over the ledge seconds later, pulling Feyre close to him as he did so Rhys had to watch as he made a mess of her. He allowed Feyre to lower down to the bed as his high closed.

He allowed her a few moments to breathe before pulling both arms behind her back and forcing her up. He walked her to Rhys before putting her on her knees. “Take his pants off and clean your mate. It's time we cash in on that threesome he said we could have.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

Rhys taglist:

@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avajustreads

Feysand:

@avajustreads

[wolftails-funkin-arts]

The irredeemable..

Mallory gathered six deity Sprunkis that were outcasted as irredeemable as revenge on the Sprunkis that treated him horribly..

Little did the deity of darkness and misfortune know that they have other plans...

Seavont, the deity of dedication.. A mad scientist Sprunki who loved research and doing experiments, and she was soooo full of herself-

One day, all her hard work was accidentally destroyed by unknown Sprunkis, but she didn't know nor she bothered to care. She grew to be furious and plotted world domination on Sprunktopia through the years. She captured over one hundred and one Sprunkis to be kept in her lab and experimented..

Spectrum, the deity of apprehension.. To most Sprunkis and even some deities themselves, they thought he was just a legend or something just to scare young Sprunkis into behaving, but he was very real..

For the longest time, Spectrum spent his time on his own, living in a hidden place in Sprunktopia called "the Void". Soon, he was able to get out of the Void and enter town, but he only had one thing on his mind.. Destruction..

BROKER, the deity of impatience and hatred.. A long time rival of Acid, Tox, Sulfur and Thysto. They've known him way before he became a deity himself.

He may be innocent looking, but don't be fooled! He craves for every Sprunki to be miserable and is dedicated to break all of Sprunktopia's reality..

Dracul, the deity of agitation.. They're the former ruler of Scalepolis (the Sprunktopia equivalent of the Dragon Lands) but soon got thrown out due to their controlling attitude and their sloth behavior, which made them grow furious, especially when they learned a new and better dragon deity was taking over.

Fine.. Then they'll make their own kingdom.. Starting with Sprunktopia!

Ravana, the deity of devaststion.. Not much is known about this deity, and is preferred to stay that way.

All Ravana does is to cause destruction for his own entertainment and he isn't sorry! But now, all he wants is to take over all of Sprunktopia, so he and all other irredeemable deities will be in charge and no Sprunki will get through him ever again!

Neve, the deity of instability.. This deity does not hold back her punches and her magic of snow and ice!

Neve really loves the snow a "little" too much.. She wishes to have her own winter kingdom, and that dream will come true during the time she was summoned! But she does have some tricks up her sleeve.. or rather, her staff..

(Bonus stuff coming soon!)

[2ndkaiser]

⋆˚࿔ WINTER WONDERLAND

Headcanons of the crew celebrating Christmas

Word count: 1287

Sorry I disappeared for a bit, I got pneumonia and was so sick I couldn’t write. Merry belated Christmas.

Warnings: Brief mention of: slight injury, alcohol, implication of bad childhood

⟡ ݁₊ . Notes: Not proofread. I quite literally wrote this in the hospital so I genuinely don’t know if this is ooc for some characters so apologies if they are.

CURLY

Assigned to put up the Christmas tree and to prepare the Christmas movie marathon.

Quietly struggled to put the tree in place and had the tree collapse on him multiple times resulting in a few trips to the medbay. Now has those round cartoon bumps on his head.

Had to pry Jimmy away from getting into a heated argument over a missing Polle ornament.

Gave everyone presents wrapped with bright pink wrapping paper with ugly gingerbread men.

Genuinely thought the wrapping was cute so nobody told them it looked like a bunch of mini disfigured Igor album covers arranged in a pattern. (I’m not saying the cover is ugly I swear I love Tyler.)

Turned the sofa into a cozy area with blankets scattered everywhere, pillows in every corner, snacks in a little basket. It’s oddly surprising how the ship could look this much like home.

Fell asleep drowning in blankets after the party, also had the deepest sleep of his entire life with arms wrapped around pillows, drooling, weighted blanket on his side. No one knew he was there until Anya woke him up the next day.

JIMMY

Assigned as the tree decorator. Reluctantly let others put up their own ornaments too.

Couldn’t find a star so he made one himself with paper and yellow markers stolen from Daisuke, hence the crumbled origami star sitting on top of the tree.

“Accidentally” knocked over the “make your own hot chocolate” bar because it was decorated better than his tree. Framed Curly.

Secretly was really excited to cuddle under blankets and watch cheesy, poorly made Christmas movies. He misses how lively the city looked during the festive season and crappy Christmas movies seemed to fill the void just fine.

Has a peppermint flavored candy cane addiction. Ate a whole box and stole a second box to store under his bed.

Told everyone he hated his gifts but if you squint really closely you can see a slight smile on his face while opening every single one as he’s finally experiencing the childhood he didn’t get to live.

Never knew he was so bad at tree decorating. The tree fell over multiple times and he had to start over twice. Threw a tantrum and claimed that Curly did a bad job at getting the tree to hold up.

ANYA

Assigned as the hot chocolate bar organizer and the decorator alongside Daisuke.

Made those really cozy “customize your own hot chocolate bars” with different flavors, toppings and mugs. Even decorated it with mini gingerbread houses and snowmen. (Yes, I’m talking about the bar Jimmy knocked over.)

Was in charge of decorating the hallway and put up polaroids of the crew on the walls which ended up never getting removed after the party.

DIY enthusiast. Made heaps of ornaments and painted a lot of them, she invited Daisuke to paint some too.

She even DIY-ed some decor—snowmen made out of white blankets rolled into balls, snow globes made out of a picture stuck on a jar lid screwed onto the jar with water and glitter… that type of stuff.

Got the crew to add songs to a Christmas playlist that would be played during the party. Sadly got all her own songs removed by Jimmy. It’s okay she added them back and put laxatives in his hot chocolate when he wasn’t looking.

DAISUKE

Assigned as decorator with Anya and also the food organizer.

Had lots of fun taste testing all the food while Swansea was cooking. Literally stood by him half of the time with a look in his eye equivalent to whining “can I try some?”

The whole counter at the kitchen was turned into a buffet. At this point the countertop couldn’t be seen and it was completely covered in food and decor. Was really proud when Swansea complimented how it was arranged.

Hums a few Christmas carols while arranging how each plate or bowl was placed. Was actually a perfectionist and didn’t let anyone toucv anything.

Drew a festive yimpy and pinned it beside OG yimpy.

Bow tying might just be his hidden talent, he tied bows out of ribbons for everyone’s presents. Possibly a ribbon bender if you get what I’m saying.

Ate a serving of every dish before the party started without anyone knowing. Woah wait who did that? Wasn’t him. Actually no food was missing at all. Who mentioned food again?

SWANSEA

Assigned as the cook. Hell yeah Swansea get it unc. Also made a bunch of decor.

Honestly I think the crew used some of the cryo pods to store frozen ingredients, that's where Swansea gets a whole turkey from.

Cooking made him feel like he was on earth again, it made him forget how lonely space was. He whipped up a few dishes made from his wife’s recipes. It reminded him of when he used to cook for his family with his mother and wife. Good ol’ days.

There’s a massive light up snowman decoration he made. He actually messed it’s face up a bit and left it with a permanent lazy eye.

Daisuke and Anya placed said snowman in between the door and one of the vending machines. Swansea let out a funky dad scream seeing it. Has a burning hatred towards it now.

Made a Santa hat for Polle because it “felt right.” He actually just felt bad because Polle was excluded.

CREW SECRET SANTA ⊹ ࣪

CURLY

He got a Christmas basket so thoughtfully packed it nearly brought him to tears. Inside were his favorite protein bars, a pack of Biscoff, gift cards to use back on earth, candy canes, and coffee-flavored sweets. He couldn’t have been happier. But the real star of the show? A leather cowboy hat paired with a red bandana with his name engraved right on it. He loved it. Wore it proudly around the ship for weeks before finally tucking it away safely in his quarters, far out of reach from anyone who might dare to steal it. (Jimmy)

JIMMY

When he unwrapped his gift, he didn’t expect anything special. Probably just booze or something generic. But this? A custom pillow with his face on it and a blanket covered in a pattern with all the crew members’ faces? Seriously? Still, it wasn’t all bad. There was a Dexter poster, Take a Look in the Mirror album, and four cans of beer. Not terrible. But then he spotted the note. It read, “I hope Dexter gets you next.” And just like that, it was bad.

ANYA

She really hoped Jimmy wouldn’t draw her name. In fact, she prayed for it. And it seems those prayers worked, because the gifts she received? Absolute top tier. Swansea has kids, he knows how to pick presents. Not that she knows it was him, of course, but it’s obvious the gifts were chosen with care. Books which were already on her wishlist, new board games, medical school supplies she could never afford, jellycats, custom jewelry. It was everything she could have hoped for.

DAISUKE

Probably still leaves out cookies and milk for Santa just in case. But knowing a different Santa was behind this gift? That had him buzzing with excitement. And when he unwrapped a Nintendo and a stash of sweet treats? Pure joy. His Secret Santa even threw in game cards for Splatoon, Overcooked, and Snipperclips... Just like that, his boredom was cured and so was the missing sweetener problem.

SWANSEA

He knew he had the worst luck as soon as he saw how his gift was wrapped, the paper didn’t even cover the whole box. One glance inside confirmed it: a very clearly secondhand pair of sneakers, scuffed with a few marks and a scratch on the back. Not exactly ideal. But hey, at least they were a good pair he didn’t already own. Another one for his collection.

Sorry for being so inactive. Hope you like this, I had to cram it in today so I can go catch up with my other projects. Thanks for reading.

[siblingshuffle]

Day 10

“...Are they usually like this?” Ice Man leaned in to ask Roll under his breath as they watched Blues and Quake Woman. Neither of the two were speaking and their eyes were averted from one another, as though the snow and ice beneath them or the clouds above were the most interesting things on the planet. Blues’s hand inched towards his neck, then stopped still as he recalled that he’d let Roll borrow his scarf, only to instead mess with the collar of his coat. Likewise, Tempo was running her fingers through her ponytail, occasionally glancing over as though working up the courage to ask a question. Ice turned, unimpressed, back to Roll. “I don't mean to seem rude, but this is painful to watch.”

“They used to be close,” Roll replied, leaning in to whisper back to Ice as she filled him in. “Tempo’s IC was removed a while ago, and Blues hasn’t really had a full conversation with her since she got it back… at least not that I know of.”

Ice nodded, sighing. Of course. Now he had to deal with this, too…

Roll watched as Blues and Tempo finally exchanged a few brief sentences, wincing. She hated to admit it, but Ice Man was right: this was painfully awkward. Why wouldn’t they just talk to each other? They used to be best friends, right? So why wouldn’t they…

Roll gasped, grabbing Ice Man’s arm. “Ice, I just had the best idea! We should get them to work on the same part of your research together! That way, they’ll HAVE to talk to each other!”

Ice Man, somewhat startled, righted himself. “Shouldn't we let them work it out on their own?” He asked, not sure how much he really wanted to deal with this today.

“…You’re kidding, right?” Replied Roll, gesturing in Blues and Tempo’s direction. “Look at them.”

Ice winced. “…good point.” Standing straighter, Ice Man grinned and saluted, “Lead the way, Commander!”

————————————————————————

LORE BELOW:

I’ve never written Ice Man before, so I hope I didn’t do too terribly! Anyway, this is the start of the Cold Crush equivalent. It’s got really different themes because Ice doesn’t have a crush on Roll (because the Robot masters are more like family here than not).

The reimagined plot instead follows Roll (& Ice Man, who she recruited to help her) trying to get Blues and Tempo to become friends again because it’s so awkward between them (this because one of them experienced some drastic changes and the other doesn’t know how to deal with that).

The whole cave-in thing still happens, but Roll isn’t the one to find Tempo…

————————————————————————

Minor Notes:

On the wiki, it describes Ice’s design as “Inuit-like” so I thought I should at least give him a skin tone that isn’t like porcelain. The freckles are just because why not.

(Anyway, this is the best any attempt I’ve had before of drawing him has ever went)

Roll was shivering in the original comic, even when she was all bundled up. So, I thought it would be cute if Blues let her borrow his scarf :)

I'll probably expand on this later; this has been defrosting (ha) in my mental microwave for months, and that is not an exaggeration

[loz-untold-myths]

The Mage's Lantern Worldbuilding

◇▪︎ Darune Town ▪︎◇

Concept map (2024).

Darune Town (also known as Darune Village among the townspeople) is a settlement constructed where one was previously devastated by the Silver Tempest and swarms of monsters. It is named after an ancient Sage of Fire in hopes of fortune against the severe cold Hyrule has been stricken with. It is Link's hometown and primarily run by the Link (Arnson) and Lon families.

Basic Info

Darune Town is Link's hometown.

The town has no mayor, due to only recently being recognized as a new township. Link's father Arn, however, is often treated as the equivalent of one.

Their main livestock consists of Highland Cows that used to roam Hyrule Field. They also raise horses, although they're only of use for deliveries along the Stone Road (a pathway constructed throughout the plains of Hyrule Field). Usually, dogsleds are used for shorter travels; especially when going to retrieve materials. Alternatively, there are a select few fishing spots with Hyrulean Salmon that were trapped by the cut-off of a stream.

Construction

During the arduous construction, entire sections of the snow would be dug and re-dug each morning, as well as the thick layers of ice formed over the soil by the Silver Tempest. This was to prevent any misconceptions in the building process: to make sure nothing relied on the packed snow for support.

If the snow were to ever disappear, the buildings would still be structurally sound– they are supported by layers of carved stone. The paths used for the horses are, as well. Darune’s roads have step-like borders, they just are never visible due to the snow’s buildup. Sometimes, not even the elevated pathways are really visible... that's where the sled rental service comes in.

Torches are posted along the roads, but are snuffed out quickly. Only certain spots have lanterns, as it's more important to keep the public spaces visible in the event of an emergency. The lamppost man's sole job for the town is to run across the town keeping all the torches and lanterns lit, night and day. Occasionally, he likes to do hearth and chimney inspections just to be doing something else...

The ranch and stables are given a sort of “roof” that is made of retractable but sturdy tiles, requiring multiple people to deploy and remove. They took years to make, but the project was funded by the King once he heard of the effort (he believed it would be vital for other remaining settlements to be able to replicate). Lanterns are meant to try and simulate natural light for the horses and cows as well as keep them warm– Epona likes to rub her face against them despite Arn's efforts to discourage the habit.

Most of the village has cellars for the winter and days of particularly unfortunate weather. The cellar doors, instead of being built at ground level, are built on elevated cobble pillars against the cellar chimneys. They're more so storm shelters.

Origin

Darune Village was built after the collapse of many homes in the general area during the Silver Tempest's awakening.

The town was built specifically with the storm in mind, on the backs of many hardworking and determined individuals. So much work went into the construction that it is rumored that some of the volunteers died on site from exhaustion.

Location Info + Climate

Darune is in a region of Hyrule Field called the Greater Hyrulean Plains, making it one of the closest settlements to the eye of the Silver Tempest.

The pond has been cut off from the stream that originally let water in from the river, so some villagers gather snowfall in a bucket to turn into boiling water for drinking.

The pond also has been almost entirely frozen over in a thick top layer, except for the center area. The center area's ice is much thinner, so it may break if disturbed for too long. There have been cases of people falling in and becoming ill.

Before the tempest, the Darune area tended to be around 76° average during the summer and about 33° average during the winter. Now, the summer average is 30°, and the winter average is only 17° at best and -32° at worst. Winters are unlivable across Hyrule and become a sort of lockdown, and in late autumn, the king usually issues out supplies rationed throughout the year to minimize how many people must starve. Castle Town folks have it even worse, but at least have easier access to trade routes.

Luckily, Darune mostly gets snow or ice rain rather than the Castle Town or Hebra Region's persistent hailstorms. This makes it a safe travel spot for those who accidentally find themselves off the Stone Road, but since the only "inn" is just a rest stop with two beds, villagers just take turns letting people rest in their homes.

The Temple of Time

The Temple of Time was what connected the old village to Castle Town. It was the site of many ceremonies, especially weddings; it was said to be representative of the Spirit Maiden, Hylia, and her eternal love for a mortal soul destined to meet her again throughout time (a common Hyrulean fairytale).

The Temple closed its doors to the public shortly before the Silver Tempest came about.

Around the time Darune was built, the Temple's upkeep seemingly stopped. However, village children still insist they see shadows crawling towards it on clear nights... which adults don't really believe, since there aren't often clear nights anymore.

Within the Temple of Time, Link finds a chamber dedicated to heroes of the past: spirits and fae who guided heroes to meeting Hylia in the past. The center of the room holds a little lantern, containing the fire spirit, Searis. Link has no idea why the spirit was locked inside or who placed him there... but perhaps he is the key to saving his village from their neverending struggle to survive?

Spectacle Rock

The village's primary source of Rock Salt. Ore deposits often appear from the strange stone.

Residents (NPCs)

Link and his family know just about everyone in town. It's small, after all. Some NPCs may be recognizable. Others, not so much.

Link

Arn

Aryll

Malon

Talon

Ingo

Old Man Linebeck

Wane (Lamppost Man)

Kyndlewax

Wulf

Dot

❄️ NPC art post will be linked here once completed. ❄️

Side Quests

If I got to actually format The Mage's Lantern as a game without Nintendo having my head, there would be a slightly longer beginning section similar to that of Ordon Village in Twilight Princess. This would include the chance to do a series of sidequests before Link wanders to Spectacle Rock.

❄️ Chapters 1-6 as a game. ❄️ (WIP)

Includes: Warm Apology, Horse Training, A Fishy Situation

. . .

Warm Apology (Quest Get)

I was supposed to spend time with Aryll today, but I completely slept through it... The least I can do is help her feel better in whatever way I can. I want to get something that'll fight off her sickness, too... but I don't have any money. People lose stuff in the snow all the time, though! Maybe I can find something...

Warm Apology (Bought Safflina)

I managed to gather enough rupees to buy the most expensive thing at Wax & Wane's General Shop. It's a flower called an Amber Safflina from somewhere far away... apparently it fights the cold (both the weather and the illness, so they say). I'm not so sure I can believe it, but I have to give it a try. They rarely have these lately... And who sees flowers anymore?! Aryll won't believe it, either!

Warm Apology (Complete)

I gave Aryll the Amber Safflina as an apology gift. She seemed really happy, so I think I'm forgiven. Phew. She even wanted to save one of them.

...

I forget that she doesn't get to go outside much until she recovers... and that she's only seen a few flowers ever. Mama used to tell me there were hundreds.

. . .

Horse Training (Quest Get)

I found Malon sneaking around the stables again, for some reason. She likes to work here with the horses instead of the cows at the ranch.

...

Anyway, that growl Papa was talking about seems to have scared all of the horses except for Epona. Now they just won't listen to Malon, even with her song. I'll have to soothe them all before they go back into the stable...

Horse Training (Complete)

I had to ride each horse back into the stables individually, but they're safe now. Malon gave them some straw so they'll stay put.

She told me not to tell, but she gave me some rupees as a reward. I tried to turn them down - she was pretty insistent... I guess these could be useful, though.

. . .

A Fishy Situation (Quest Get)

Because of the monster, not even Papa's friends can keep on track... It really must be bad. Usually, Papa's the sort of leader to get anybody on task!

I wonder if there's something I can do to help, even if Papa says different. Maybe if I ask around..

A Fishy Situation (Mystery Solved)

I asked around a little bit, and it seems like all the workers are just hungry. I think I get why they're so distracted now... but what can I bring them?

...

I guess I can find them some fish at the pond... I'm probably going to regret this, aren't I?

A Fishy Situation (Fishing Done)

It felt weird to go back to the pond after these past couple of weeks. It looks almost completely frozen over again - they must have had to re-carve the fishing holes. Would Aryll be mad at me for walking around here? Papa?

Old Man Linebeck was in his usual spot, where the ice is thick. And as usual, didn't want to be bothered. Surprisingly, he said he'd teach me to spear fish... but only a little, since I'm not paying. He was fuming every time I slipped up, but he said for a price he could teach me more. Did he enjoy fishing with somebody else or not?! I just can't read that guy!

...

For now, I'm just fine with the few salmon I managed to catch. This ought to get everyone's heads back in the right place.

A Fishy Situation (Complete)

Papa managed to start a fire and grilled the salmon I brought back for the workers (after I bothered him for a little while). He let me have some, too! It was sweet and savory. I feel all warm and fuzzy inside! So flaky and delicious...

...

Oh, and everyone seemed to calm down a little.

. . .

❄️ HEY! This section will be expanded as the story progresses! ❄️

Link

Hypothetical gameplay talk aside, here is the storyline in novelized form! Chapter 7 to be released in two parts between December of 2024 and January of 2025.

[lopsicle]

Intimate Procedures

TickleTober Day 3, Cleaning:

Characters: Lee! Lizzy, Ler! Doll

Summary: Lizzy lets Doll help out with cleaning her. It doesn’t go to plan.

Ever since humans went extinct on Copper 9, life had changed dramatically for the worker drones which still inhabited the planet. Generations of robot families got a chance to experience life, feel the crunch on the snow on the planet beneath their feet, stare up into the dark cosmos above them, love and hate each other. Humans weren’t totally extinct of Copper 9; there was a trance of humanity within them.

Of course, without their human masters to watch over them, the drones had to learn how to form their own society. Children were (somehow) born, and so the drones learned how to parent and be teachers. Among all their other new responsibilities, the drones had to learn how to take care of their own bodies. There were a lot less maintenance than a human, their hair was totally artificial and really only needed to be brushed, though their steel bodies were prone to wear. Previously, humans had just buffed the drones down with metal brushes, though they resembled circular saws more than brushes. A long, steel rod with a wheel at the end of it, covered in dull, little spikes to smooth and shiny the surface of metal. Without humans to do it for them, the drones had to learn to clean themselves, or in this case, ask a friend.

Lizzy was more than capable of polishing herself up, she was practically obsessed with it, not wanting to be seen as dirty, or worse ugly. While she could mostly handle herself, buffing her back in particular was incredibly aggravating to do most times, especially because she didn’t want to mess a single, dull spot, so she normally ended up going over it a few more times than necessary. More than was good for her steel skin in all honesty. While she didn’t really care about this too much, after complaining to her girlfriend Doll once, she was intent on helping her with her little problem.

The two of them ended up in Lizzy’s room, the edgy robot looking incredibly out of place among the prissy, pink theme, a beautiful orange light glowing down on the two, so that Doll could see what she was doing. Lizzy was laying down on her bed, on her stomach, her cheek resting against her soft pillows so that she could glance back at Doll, sitting cross legged next to her torso, a buffer brush in her hand. Lizzy’s discarded shirt also laid next to Doll on the bed, while Lizzy fidgeted with her hands nervously.

“You don’t have to be doing all this for me, you know that, right?” She asked, figuring this gesture meant she’d owe Doll something later for helping her, but her girlfriend quickly shot that down.

“I want to do this, beautiful, your my partner after all.” Doll responsed, her tone authoritative as expected, but in a warm tone she’d reserved for Lizzy. Lizzy’s hand grew still, her thoughts calming before she gave Doll a small nod, giving her the go ahead. Doll thumb pushed against a small switch on the brusher, it’s shiny, slightly sharp bristles humming as they spun round and round.

Lizzy wasn’t expecting to think much of this, she was more scared of the vulnerability of this than the buffing itself. But when Doll descended the brushed onto her lower back, a gasp involuntarily escaped her mouth before she pressed her teeth together. Whenever Lizzy did this to herself, it felt equivalent to dragging her own nails across her skin, a slightly sharp sensation and nothing more. But when Doll did it, it felt as if her hands were being dragged against her back, the soft touch of her fingertips, her sharp nails glazing her skin. Lizzy could already feel herself shifting about a bit as Doll rubbed the brushers against her lower back.

“Are you alright, Liz?” Doll murmured attentively, feeling her hand instinctively stiffen and slow to move the scrubber slower. Lizzy mentally cursed how quickly Doll noticed something was up with her, before pushing the mean thought to the back of her head. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell Doll that she was ticklish, quite the opposite, she’d adore it if her girlfriend knew about the adorable way to get her laughing. The problem was that even mentioning was far too embarrassing for Lizzy to handle, all she could do was giggle nervously and refuse to talk about it. She felt her fingers clench the tips of her bedsheets, mustering up the confidence to speak.

“I’m f-fihne, just keep going!…please,” Lizzy added quietly at the end, unsure if she was referring to the budding or the consequential tickling. She couldn’t imagine her being flustered about tickling would be that bad if it wasn’t for the fact that she enjoyed it, or maybe she was flustered because she enjoyed it-her mind was racing too fast to even think about things like that, only able to focus on that tingly sensation crawling around her back slowly, and how Doll was seeing her like this and how she could absolutely not let her know she was ticklish-

“Okay, sweetheart, just tell me if this gets uncomfortable.” Doll decided, a little concerned of the way Lizzy’s torso twitched, not as if she was in pain, more so uncomfortable. Doll hoped that wasn’t because of her. She began dragging the brush up Lizzy’s back, along her spine; a spine-adjacent that is, a long cord of metal and entangles wires that shot down from her neck to her back.

It was also apparently really sensitive, Lizzy’s breathing hitched, a sudden gasp escaping her lips before she bit down on her lip, a swarm of giggles getting caught up in her throat, threatening to spill out. Doll’s eyes narrowed slightly in playful realisation at what had gotten Lizzy so worked up and squirmy, still she didn’t get why she was being so secretive over something that was just plainly adorable.

“Your hiding something,” Doll said plainly, her curiosity getting the better of her. Lizzy shuddered at that, her back twitching and involuntarily wiggling up against the brush. Her grip on the tip of her bedsheets tightened, feeling like a chill of nervousness was racing through her servos.

“I-I don’t know what your t-talking abohout!” Lizzy forced out, trying to keep her composure but it cracked up. A blush quickly spread across her digital visor from the slip up, gritting her teeth once more, though Doll was persistent to force more of those cute giggles out of her girlfriend. She kept up dragging the brush around her back, tracing little circles into her skin, but she lowered her free hand against Lizzy’s sides, trailing her fingers up and down.

“We both know that you’re lying, pretty girl,” Doll began, a shiver ran up Lizzy’s spine that made all this tickling so much worse.

“Why not just admit that your a little bit ticklish?” Shakily, a whine escaped from Lizzy’s lips as she kicked her feet against the edge of her bed in some pent-up act of frustration, of embarrassment. It didn’t take long for those small snickers of hers to begin seeping out from her lips, while she began twisting about on the bed. At least she didn’t have to try and hide her squirming anymore.

“S-shut up! It’s hahahard to tahahlk about!!” Lizzy admitted in a grouchy tone, as grouchy as she could sound when she was cackling under her breath. That didn’t seem to satisfy Doll’s curiosity though, she suddenly squeezed Lizzy’s side, making the poor thing squeal; her free hand traced the buffer around her back with a little more speed, more so focused on tickling her girlfriend than actually cleaning her.

“I could figure that out, that doesn’t tell me why you can’t talk about it, darling.”

Lizzy could only grumble at that, in her mind, this was the absolute most perfect chance to tell Doll that she was enjoying this. She’d already planned to…at some point, but having this happen so spontaneously was causing her to fumble and stutter over any response she attempted to make, like her brain and her mouth weren’t working in sync. All she could think about was her girlfriend’s nails tracing up against her side, and the scrubber she was holding polishing her upper back, making her squeak and wriggle her arms about.

“Do you want me to stop?” Was the question that snapped Lizzy out of her thoughts, it was so gentle that she barely managed to make it out over her laughter. Doll had shuffled a little closer to ensure Lizzy heard her murmuring, and when she looked back, she could see Doll staring down at her with a considerate, serious expression. Lizzy buried her face back into her pillow, starting to feel like she was overheating just from looking at her.

“..mm, no..” Lizzy managed to vocalise, a tiny, flustered sound whilst shaking her head into the pillow. Despite that, Doll did stop for a moment, her smile growing a bit as she began dragging her fingers through the ends of Lizzy’s perfect, blond hair.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to tell me what this is about, if your enjoying this, I’m happy to keep going.” Lizzy would’ve felt her heart stop if she had one, so instead it just felt like all her operating systems were shutting down. Doll was just too…good to her, too perfect and sweet, she didn’t know how she got so lucky.

“How about a game?” Doll began, absentmindedly tracing her fingers against Lizzy’s back. “I’ll start drawing letters onto your back and you guess what I spell.” Lizzy was still feeling a little too flustered to speak, but she forced a nod and a small squeak of agreeance.

Doll nodded graciously at that, pressing her index finger against Lizzy’s spine and drawing a smooth, straight line down it. She’d long finished cleaning her girlfriend up, her back was looking more polished than ever with the amount of fun Doll was having with it, though Lizzy was realising that her freshly smoothed skin was horribly more sensitive than normal.

“Ehehheh-mm, t-the first letter wahahahs an ‘I’!” She squeaked out, a nervous, happy smile spreading across her face, which only got bigger as Doll praised her with a simple,

“Good job. Two more words.” Doll’s fingers really took their time on it, Lizzy was able to tell what each letter was with precise detail. That of course meant the tickling was going on for longer, Lizzy could feel every little movement from Doll’s gentle fingers against her back, crawling and spidering around against her. She loved every moment of it, giggling away in ticklish bliss.

Soon though, Doll finished tracing the last letter, a line which curved at the bottom before heading right back up again. Lizzy couldn’t help but let her face go red at that, “I love you”. Lizzy flipped over and stared at Doll, the girl was just sitting there with a proud, soft expression on her face, something that only Lizzy had the pleasure of seeing. Most people would never see this side of Doll, the part of her that existed behind the hard exterior, but Lizzy was lucky enough to. She didn’t know how she got that lucky, but she did.

“I love you too!” Lizzy squealed, jumping into Doll’s arms messily, being caught in her protective embrace. Doll made sure to run circles into Lizzy’s back to brush away any phantom tickles she might be experiencing, staring back at her in silence, taking note of the way her smile was so much brighter when she was giggling, how tight her grip on Doll’s body was, the fumbling position of her legs from how she had jumped into the hug. The messy side of Lizzy, the happier one.

Doll closed her eyes and leaned into the hug, taking up all the affection as she wondered how she got so lucky with her.