#my other personal problem with this book was that it hit a lil too close to home

[moondal514]

Y’all ever read a book that disturbs you so much it fucks with your writing?

[dinogoofymutated]

You asked for some smut suggestions for Logan, and I got one:

So like…I mean…Logan might be on the short side, but he’s still big! I mean, like,,,those hands 🫣 It would be nice to see a fic to do with Logan and a little manhandling. but not like in a BDSM way, more like a “I am very strong, and here’s a little reminder” type way. Might seem kinda silly but I’d enjoy a fic like that lol.

NSFW!Wolverine/AFAB!Reader Ask and you shall receive!! I've spent like the last four days working on this and atp I can't looks at it anymore lol. I'm not super happy with how the beginning is written, but I still think it's alright enough to post lol. It's a lot more tell than show compared to most of my other fics, and I was halfway tempted to reformat it into headcannons, but I didn't feel like it. Anyway, hope you like the way I included the manhandling lol! Hope it turned out okay :) Also, might or might not be tall logan. I'll leave it up to yall to assume, I'm just short af so there's not a single person in marvel who wouldn't have to look down at me lmao.

Edit:FUCK I FORGOT THE READ MORE! TWs: MDNI!!!!!! Seriously, you will be blocked. Masterbation, lil bit of a scent kink. Sexual frustration. Manhandling. Jealous Logan. Creampie. Logan calls you "sunshine" and pretty and shit. I'll add more if I can think of any.

    You had a problem. You’ve had a problem. And it really didn’t seem like it was getting any better. It didn’t help the fact that it was incredibly embarrassing, either.

    You couldn’t get off. It’s not like you ever struggled with it before, but lately, it felt like you were fighting a losing battle. At first, you didn’t realize why. Maybe it was because you moved into the X-Mansion. Nerves because you’re living somewhere new, right? So you change it up a little. You got comfortable, had a glass of wine or two, and picked up a raunchy book. Yet every time you slipped your hand between your thighs… Running circles around your own clit, trying your best to finger yourself to your finish, you just could never quite hit that peak. It was safe to say you were beyond frustrated.

    Lucky for you, most people didn’t notice. You try your best not to be too uptight or mean, but there are just some things that you can’t quite hide from certain people.

    Logan’s noticed that something is up with you. You can tell he has, seeing the looks on his face, nose scrunched up in a way he’s catching into something that he just can't quite place. You’re assuming it’s your own pheromones, but hey, as long as he doesn’t realize what it is you’ll be fine, right?

     Maybe not.

    Eventually, you finally realized why you were having so much trouble getting off. All it took was one training session with Wolverine, and you knew immediately. You weren’t sparring or anything like that, hell, you knew before you even hit the danger room floor. Logan was in a bit of a mood today, although not as grumpy as he can be- and he’s trying to be patient with you. You can tell. But you’re having trouble focusing today- and you have been for a while. He can tell you’re not at 100% just by the way you hold yourself, and spends about 5 minutes watching as you struggle to reset the Danger room panel before he’s finally fed up with it.

    “Jesus fuck. Here, let me do it.” Logan grabs you by the waist, pulling you to his chest with one arm as the other reaches around you to reset the panel. It’s not like you didn’t find him attractive before, but the close contact? The smell of his aftershave and the sound of his voice growling in your ear? 

    oh.

    Oh. 

    You were having trouble getting off because you had a thing for Logan.

    You’re practically stunned when he pulls away, standing there with a flushed face and something rather embarrassing pooling in your underwear for the first time in a while. You had to quickly excuse yourself before you ran the risk of him catching onto anything coming from you. He’s a little confused for a second, but you can hear the sound of his low chuckle as you scramble away.

    First thing you do? Go to the store.

    It's not a random errand. At least, not entirely. You had meant to go out with Storm to grocery shop later this afternoon, but you told her you could really use some time out of the house by yourself, which she completely understood. You had the list and everything, it was only a coincidence that you passed by the cologne section on your way to pick up some toothpaste. The sight made you stop for a minute, the gears grinding in your skull. You spent just a few minutes curiously sampling the bottles until you found one that smelled a bit familiar… Should you? No, that's a bit strange. But really, what was the harm, right? I mean, who would know? 

    So you bought it. You felt a bit embarrassed afterward, knowing what you bought it for, and ended up letting it sit in the drawer of your side table for a good while. Until another desperate attempt at fucking your own brains out, that is. 

    You were sweaty and uncomfortable in your bed, sleep shirt sticking to your skin as you struggled to pump your fingers in and out of your tight cunt. It’s been a while, and it shows. You couldn’t even get your favorite dildo to fit inside of you, only adding to your frustration. Touching your clit hardly helped much, leaving you as unsatisfied as ever. Eventually, you give up, lying there as you sigh to yourself. You turn over in your bed in a huff, halfway temped scream your lungs out into the pillow you bury your face in. Instead, you let out something that sounds more like a whisper than a yell, letting the air in your lungs deflate as you let your feelings out. You roll over onto your side when you’re done, halfway tempted to be done with it entirely and go back to bed when you catch sight of the nightstand drawer, slightly ajar. The amber bottle of liquid stares right at you. 

    You open the drawer some more, picking up the bottle and looking at it as you wonder if you’re actually going to do this. But you’re ridiculously horny, and tired, and you know you’re gonna have trouble falling asleep in the state you’re in- so you end up spraying the smallest amount on your pillow.

    It’s…nice. The pillow is warm from where you had been laying on it, and despite how strong men’s cologne could be, this one isn’t quite so striking. At least, not in the amount that you used. You relax back into your bed, pressing your face into the pillow and laying there for a moment. You start thinking about Logan… His calloused hands running across your skin. How his lips and tongue would feel against your own, trailing down your body to your breast. Your hand trails down to your clit as you imagine it as his own. You imagine him behind you, pressing you to the bed as he growls into your ear. You think about what his happy trail would feel like against you. What his cock would look like, feel like, pressing into you. Your legs twitch and shake as you see stars underneath your eyelids, the scent of Logan hitting all the right parts in your head and going straight to your cunt.

    Holy shit. 

    Your orgasm lasts what feels like forever. Your legs are still shaking as you whimper from oversensitivity and pull your hand away, panting as you try to catch your breath. You haven’t cum that hard since… ever. Maybe the cologne was worth it, after all.

    You felt really good the morning after. You found yourself humming in the shower, more energized at breakfast and morning drills. No one had said anything, but you knew there were a few who were relieved to see you back to your usual self. If anything, the only person you noticed acting very differently around you was Logan. He was more tense than normal. He scowled a lot, spending less time in your presence. You’d strike up a conversation that would only last a few minutes before he would make an excuse and leave. It made you a little disappointed. But you knew him and knew he had good and bad days, so you brushed it off at first. But a week, two weeks- almost a month went by, and still no change. You felt scorned almost, silently rejected by the guy you had finally realized you were practically in love with, and to be honest, the only man who could get you off just by thinking about him- and boy, did you get off while thinking about him. 

    You’ve almost resigned yourself to the fact that Logan wasn’t interested when he corners you one morning. He’s leaning up against the wall of the hallway,  waiting for you when you step out of your room. It makes you jump a little, closing your door quickly behind you, knowing damn well you hadn’t washed your sheets after fucking yourself to the moon and back last night and fully not wanting the smell to hit his nose. All Logan does is narrow his eyes. Shit.

    “Who is he.” He asks you. The question completely derails your train of thought. And you furrow your brow, confused. What was that about?

    “Who is he? Your guy?” He asks again, but it does little to clear up your confusion. You’re halfway wondering if he’s being serious at this point, stepping away from your door as you cross your arms.

    “What?” You ask. Logan huffs when you respond to him, cocking his head at you in a way that's more sarcastic than curious. The way he’s looking at you is doing some things that you don’t think you’d like to admit, eyes narrow and scrutinizing as you struggle to keep eye contact with him.

    “What do you mean? What guy?” You repeat back to him, starting to get a little frustrated. He snorts, rolling his eyes as his scowl lingers. He steps closer, looking down at you from less than a foot away with that angry stare.

    “Don’t play stupid with me, sunshine. I can smell him on you.” You ignore the way the nickname makes you shiver a little bit, too busy shrinking into yourself when you process the extent of his words. Smell. He could smell someone on you. Something. Oh god, this was embarrassing. 

    “Oh! That- It’s not what you're thinking!” You say, face flushed red. You’re flustered beyond belief, doing your best to convince him to leave it be, and it’s not going so well for you.

    “Sure it’s not.” Logan huffs. He starts to take steps forward, closing in on your personal space.

    “It’s not. I can promise you that.” You’re anxiously fiddling with your fingers now, taking a step back for every step he takes. He looked predatory, unlike any time you’ve seen him before. You haven’t even seen him like this in the danger room, even less so on the battlefield. 

    “Just tell me who he is.” Logan is adamant about it, his scowl beginning to turn into a frown. Your back hits your door, kickstarting your heart in surprise. You hadn’t realized he had backed you up so far.

    “I can’t!” You say, in the beginning stages of becoming absolutely exasperated, and already incredibly embarrassed. 

    “Why not!?” Logan Snaps, stopping just inches away from you. You cover your heated face, pressing your palms into your eyes until you see shapes, wanting nothing more than to curl up and die right then and there.

    “Would you just leave it!” You shout, but Logan’s having none of it. 

    “No, I won't!” Logan grabs your wrists and moves them away from your face, holding them in front of your chest with a grip lighter than you might have thought. You groan in utter frustration and mortification, looking him dead in the eyes as your angry mouth starts speaking before your reasonable brain can fully catch up.

    “Jesus Christ Logan! Do you expect me to just whip out the silicone and show you?!” Your eyes widen as soon as you say it, slamming your mouth shut as you finally catch up with yourself. Logan is staring at you in absolute shock, jaw almost slack at the confession. 

    “...What?” He asks, slowly. You wince, looking off to the side before deciding it's a bit too late to get the cat back into the bag.

    “Its… Cologne. What you’re smelling. I use it to uh, help me…” You make a sort of gesture with your head, praying that you won’t actually have to spell it out for him. He’s still in shock as he looks at you, hands frozen with his fingers wrapped around your wrists. He clears his throat when he comes to, an unreadable expression on his face as he slowly steps forward again, close enough to press his forehead against your own as he presses you against your door.

    “You’re that pent up, you need cologne to help you get off?” He asks, and you don’t know what to say, cat catching your tongue as he leans forward. The side of his face brushes against your cheek as he leans down a little, the action making your skin prickle. One of his hands releases a wrist to slide up and across the back of your neck, tilting your head to the side as he takes a big sniff of your skin. He’s practically nuzzling you, angling his head so that he can smell the scent on the back of your head where you rest against your pillow at night. 

    He’d noticed it before, at night when most of his anger had worn off, sometime after he started to pick up the scent on you. The undertones, the top notes. But now with you this close, he can tell that it wasn’t another man he was smelling. No. It was just you. Your scent being drowned out by the smell of something that he could finally tell smelled rather suspiciously like his very own aftershave.

    “...Don’t tell me that you wanted it to smell like me.” He asks after a moment. You almost flinch at the sound of his deep rumble, turning your red face away from him. You swallow, feeling like you are absolutely burning up as you nod- right as Logan catches the unmistakable scent of arousal.

    “Fuck”

    You’re sure the sound was more animal than man as he cups your cheek rather aggressively, pressing his lips against your own in a rather desperate kiss. It takes you a second to return it, eyes wide as you process just what was happening. It didn't take long for you to melt into his desperate kisses though, every nip and brush of his teeth just like you imagined it would be. He presses his knee in between your thighs, finally releasing your other wrist to grab ahold of your hip instead. You accidentally let out a whine when he grinds your hips against him, your heart beating so fast you were sure it was going to explode. He curses again at the sound, both hands sliding around you to lift you against the door.

    You practically squeak in surprise, the noise caught by Logan’s mouth on your own one more time before he trails down to your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin. You gasp as he presses against you, his hips beginning to grind against your own. You’re having a hard time thinking, biting your lip as you do your best to stifle your sounds.

    “Logan-ah, can we… head inside, please?” He only grunts in response, shifting your weight as you both begin to fumble for the doorknob. He gets it before you do, hardly stumbling as the door behind you swings open. He’s kissing you again before the door is even closed, kicking it behind him. As preoccupied as you are, you at least have the common sense to reach over and try to lock the door before he carries you over to the bed. 

    He plops you down onto the mattress before he crawls over you, eyes half-lidded and just as lustful as your own. He pushes you down as you try to sit up. His breathing a little hard, pupils dilated to a size you had never seen.

    “Now I know why you closed the door so fast,” Logan smirks, having picked up the lingering scent of your sex on the sheets right away. You open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off. His tongue snakes into your mouth, and you find that you can’t really remember what you were going to say anyway. He kisses you again and again, distracting you as he reaches above your head. He pulls away when he has the pillow in hand, and you know just by the look on his face that he knows exactly what he is holding.

    “Hate to break it to you, but this doesn’t exactly compare to the real thing.” He snarks. It makes you laugh, and for the first time in a while, you see a genuine smile spread across his face. 

    “Yeah.” You respond, taking the pillow from his hands and tossing it to a far-off corner. “I know.” You could revel in his smile for as long as he’d let you. Logan’s kisses start off sweeter this time, at least for a moment they did. They begin to become more and more rough as hands start to wander and clothes start to come off. His shirt is first to go, your hands running up and down the hair that spans his torso. Logan is quick to remove your shirt and bra in one go, one very small step away from cutting off your clothes entirely. He gives himself a minute to appreciate your breasts, pinching and teasing you by sliding a hand up the middle of your sternum, the back of his hand brushing the side of a tit as he watches you squirm underneath him, arching your back to push your chest out, practically begging him to finally touch you.

    “Patience is a virtue, Sunshine.” Logan says, causing you to scoff. You glare at him a little and all it does is make him chuckle a bit. 

    “Don’t be mean.” You whine. He laughs a bit harder as he finally lowers himself to your chest. He keeps his eyes locked on your own as he brushes the blunt ends of his teeth across the soft skin, but he’s never been the most patient man. It doesn't take him long to give in to you, sucking on each breast individually, massaging the soft skin of the opposite as he does so. 

    “Careful.” He growls when your own hands begin to wander, touching him over the fabric of his jeans. He releases your nipple with a pop, bearing his teeth as he presses his face back into your neck. You don't pay much mind to that, rather enjoying the grunts and sounds he makes as you slowly stroke his covered hardness from base to tip. You can't imagine how restrained he must be feeling. You can’t help but smirk a little as your hands drift up and down, before oh So slowly unbuckling his belt. Logan is agitated, practically bucking his hips into your hands to get you to just get over with it. 

    “Patience is a virtue.” You quote, only earning a restraining hold on your hands once again.

    “Fuck that.” Logan growls. He holds you by your wrists, pushing them above your head as he uses his free hand to remove his belt and frantically unbuckle his pants. You'd be complaining if it weren't for the view of his straining cock, slapping against his abdomen as he pulls his pants down. 

    You don't get to stare for too long before he flips you on your stomach like you weigh nothing. He lets your wrists go to pull down your shorts and underwear, a sticky string of your slick thinning as he pulls the items down.

    “Fuck. You're this wet from just that?” Logan asks you, taking two fingers and sliding them through your lips from behind, spreading his fingers to let himself see the mess you've made of yourself already.

    “...shut up.” You mumble, more focused on the feeling of those very same fingers sliding back and forth across your cunt, the tips just barely brushing against your clit every time. Logan chuckles, sliding one hand under your lower stomach to lift your hips with ease. Your hips buck as he slides a thick finger inside of you without warning, slowly sinking down to his knuckle with ease.

    “Might not even need foreplay at this rate.” Logan rumbles behind you, eyes set squarely on the sight of your pretty pussy spread wide open for him. You can only moan in response as he pulls it back out again, plunging a second finger into you this time. Your hands clutch the sheets as Logan begins to finger fuck you to his content, curling those thick digits to hit that one spot juuust right. You try not to buck or squirm too bad, halfway wondering if this is all just some wet dream. 

    “Logan-” You call out for him through your moans. He only hums in reply, preoccupied at the moment.

    “I- god- I need your cock, please.” You're not sure if it was the phrase or the begging, but it makes Logan groan. You feel embarrassingly empty as he pulls his fingers out. You hear the sound of him stroking his hard cock with your slick, groaning and humming to himself before he picks you up. He leans over you, adjusting to you your hands and knees as you finally feel that thick, thick cock grinding against you. You gasp at the way it feels, feeling Logan smirk against your back.

    “Having second thoughts?” The tone of his voice is teasing, but you know there's more than that behind the words. You vehemently shake your head, grinding back against him a little as you protest. Logan swears under his breath, holding onto your hips to keep them still as he sits up.

    Both of you groan each time the head of his cock catches on your clit, Logan thrusting through your lips again and again as he lubes himself with the wetness you provide for him. You gasp when his head catches on your slot, notching just right. 

    Logan pushes into you so slowly, and you feel like he's thicker than you ever imagined he would be. You're impatient, desperate. You push back onto him in an attempt to take him in more, but his hands on your hips stop you.

    “Believe me sweetheart, you don't want that yet.” Logan tells you, straining himself with how tight you feel around him. He soothingly rubs his thumbs against your skin, pressing into you until you have him completely, balls deep inside you. 

    “Please, please. Logan, Please, I need you to move.” Your begging starts to sound like nonsense to your own ears, but it makes Logan gasp all the same, his cock twitching from where it's buried inside of you. You practically cry in relief when he finally begins to thrust Inside of you.

    His hip smack against your ass with every thrust, the sound of the slap mixed with the sounds of your love and the headboard hitting the wall a lewd and filthy symphony. Even better than your own moans were Logan's himself. Each and every groan and growl above you gave you a whole new array of things to imagine while fucking yourself- if you ever had to do so again. 

    You whine and whimper with every strong thrust, Logan slow and forceful with every movement. It felt like he wanted your insides to memorize exactly how his cock feels inside of you, and you doubt you'd ever mind it. He filled you perfectly, hitting every sweet spot inside of you.

    Your arms are shaking. Struggling to hold yourself up with each and every rock of the bed. You barely start to buckle when He catches hold of you, an arm snacking under your chest and pulling you towards him. His hand spans your collarbone as he holds your back against his chest, holding you up as he continues to fuck you like no one before. You're closing in on that sweet release when his hips stutter a moment. His teeth dig into your shoulder with a sharp bite, holding you there close to him without breaking the skin.

    “Are… are you -ah- close?” You ask. Logan only responds with a short and simple - “Fuck!” - before he pulls out of you.

    You don't have time to whine about the emptiness before he's flipping you around, kissing you again as he pushes your back to the bed rather aggressively. He's quick to sling your legs over his arms, folding you in half as he sides fully into you in a single thrust. He's hitting you so much deeper in this position, chest pressed against your own as his thrusts continue to stutter. 

    Logan kisses you again, a bit differently than the last ones have been. These kisses are tender, sweet. A stark difference between his needy, frantic thrusts. There's a line of spit between you two as he pulls away, half-lidded eyes meeting your own. You’re closing in on your peak, and you can tell he is too. The pleasure is too much for you to handle at once, and you can't help but squeeze your eyes shut.

    “Look at me.” Logan grabs a hold of your chin, your eyes flying open as he thumbs at your lip and holds your head still. “Don't look away.” His hips stutter some more, the both of you groaning as you clench around him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as you finally cum around his cock. The fluttering of your walls are more than enough to send Logan over the edge, his cum warming your insides in thick spurts. Logan buries his face into your neck, groaning as you ride out both of your orgasms.

    The two of you lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath. Logan lets go of your sore legs, massaging your thighs as he presses sweet, comforting kisses to your cheek and temple. His hands wander up and down your sides, doing his best to soothe your aches without you even having to ask. -not that he would ever admit to having a soft side. Who would believe you if you told them that The Wolverine was a cuddler after sex anyway?

    “Why didn't you just tell me?” You ask after a long moment. Logan hums, his Face tucked into the crook of your neck.

    “Tell you what?”

    “That you were jealous.” Logan only snorts at that, playfully pinching your side.

    “Jealous of what? Your cologne?” He returns. You slap him on the shoulder as he chuckles at you, unable to stop the playful smile on your face.

    “You mean the cologne that you thought was a whole-ass guy?” Logan stops at that, instead choosing to cover your mouth with his palm as he tucks his head closer.

    “You're a lot prettier when you're quiet. You know that?”

[thecolourfulkingdom]

I saw your post on religion and WH and let me throw in my 5 cents? Keep in mind - this is tinfoil hat kind of theory but at this level of knowledge we can count butt for a nightingale and it will sing just fine.

As you may heard, there are 12 houses in astrology, each rules an important aspect of our lives. Now Home itself is a 9th neighbour so let us look at the 9th astrological house...

It has to do to with religion, law, philosophy, learning, higher education, understanding and wisdom, books, publishing, ceremonies, and rituals, dreams, visions, journeys (espiecially long ones), travel in general, foreign countries, outside interests, spiritual awakening, ideas, ethics and morality.

Another thing is that 9th house being a house of "understanding" pretty complex compared to the act of "knowing" which simply implies the direct contact of a person with something in their environment. Understanding involves processing and the synthesis of the information that is already known and gathered.

Also the 9th house is where one seeks to discover the significance of larger fields of social existence which one may not experience directly but which his mind may explore through the use of analogy, generalization and abstraction.

Thus we can say that 9th House is a house of the betterment of the self.

So what does it have to do with Wally?

Technically speaking, Wally used to live in the 3th house that ruled all this all of his live. 3rd house is a house of knowledge. It has to do with an individual's need to understand his close personal environment. And what Wally mainly does? He was learning about things around him and about his closest people - his neighbors. But at the same time, most of the things of the 9th House didn't apply to him.

Now, the 3rd and 9th houses are opposite to each other; they also symbolize the concrete and the abstract thought. Think: polarity of the human mind.

But then something happens and our lil puppet guy is massively hit with - I would say - with the essence of the 9th house.

Now he has to plunge into all this head first to help Home and his friends. He has to expand not only field of activity but also the scope of his own mind. And maybe try to do the same with the viewer, because living puppets are sure far outside any sort of "normal" things for most people.

Given that his normal living environment was rather routine based (as far as my knowledge goes, autistic people - and probably autistic puppets too- do better in such environment), I think dealing with all these things at once caused him a trauma and to be fair, while Wally is trying to do good, he might accidentally hurt himself and everyone involved in process simply because he has no understanding of how things work outside of his little secluded world.

Interestingly, all this 9th house stuff points at Wally's own "quest": to gain complex understanding of the world and self.

-------------------

Speaking of Home&Wally relationships, I see it as caregiver & ward sort of thing.

What also stroke me, is that Home being evil would be a kind of a tropey cliche people expect... You know, akin to the trope of the Haunted House? Also Wally being evil is Evil Puppet trope at its finest (but can be read as Creepy Autistic Person) so I doubt it will be the case.

By far Clown did a marvelous job avoiding most types of cliches in regard to their characters so I'm very curious how they are going to play this out.

--------------

Also, tiny moment about mold - the black mold, Aspergillus niger,  is a problem of too wet houses or those heavily managed by water. And Home is prone to crying (we have that stuff in the official art).

Maybe it means nothing.

Maybe black mold was original reason for show cancellation.

The best way to get rid of it? Fire. Fire could be the reason why there was no evidence of show existence left in-universe.

I've been thinking a lot about the houses, specifically how they might correlate with WH's theme of religion. The parts in the livestream trivia where Clown talked about the houses is really interesting, how Home is the only "alive" house but all the neighbors believe their houses are alive to some capacity. And the fact that the holidays are to celebrate their houses, where human holidays are usually to celebrate deities/religions.

The only thing on the website that still has this religious theme is the So Below page of Wally (possibly) worshipping Home. Perhaps Clown removed the cross cufflinks and Baphomet imagery so WH could be an allegory about religion instead of straight up about Christianity. The houses/Home could be metaphors for deities and the neighbors are their followers, even if their perception of religion and what it means is probably very different than humans'.

i was wondering why i had a hard time answering this message yesterday, and i think it's because i never really saw welcome home as a story about christianity or even religion as a whole, in either its current iteration or its earlier drafts. i think there is a very good chance that it's one aspect of welcome home, but... how do i say this.

when i see posts from clown talking about what he feels welcome home is about, i get the impression that at its core, welcome home is a story about alienation - from society, from one's environment, from one's peers, even from one's own self - and Specifically about alienation that comes as a result of changing (or at least desiring change) in an environment that upholds stagnation/the status quo/etc. as The Ideal. not Quite the same as but very similar to nostalgia poisoning, two peas in a pod. and i don't think it's a coincidence that this can also be lobbed as a criticism at the practices of Many christian denominations in the usa, a country in which christian hegemony is still very strongly felt in many aspects of daily life (let alone back when welcome home was airing in-universe or when its supposed creator, ronald dorelaine, was growing up.) i suspect that part of the reason the christian symbolism seems to have been reworked into something more subtle between welcome home's 2019 concept and what we have now is because:

A.) it would have been rather on the nose, even hokey, to have the world of welcome home (the in-universe show) be a textually christian one (or have the christian subtext be so strong that it might as well just be text) when you don't really Need welcome home to be a religious production to demonstrate the idea that art is shaped by the culture/society in which it exists and/or its creator(s) hail from.

B.) it was less ... nuanced? idk if that's the word i'm looking for, but - i do not think it is a coincidence that wally's old cross cufflinks were a holdover from his design for a draft in which he seemed to be much more overtly, Aggressively antagonistic in his status as the center of attention, and was pitted against a much more straightforwardly heroic character who was on more equal footing with the rest of the neighbors. i Suspect that if any of what i just said comes into play, then perhaps the current iteration of welcome home is the way it is because it leaves room to acknowledge that even people who are hurt by this upholding of stagnation as the ideal willingly perpetuate it anyway, for a number of reasons.

BUT. to get back to the actual ask, since we have no idea what's actually gonna happen in welcome home at this point in time, let's say that none of what i just talked about comes up even once and that the concept of The Home is really what we should be focusing on here wrt the religious symbolism. i think it's less that the houses themselves are metaphors for deities and more that, like - the importance of homes in the world the neighbors live in is so great that the only way it can be expressed in terms that a human could understand would be through the lens of religious/spiritual beliefs. i am intrigued by the idea that each neighbor has their own relationship to this belief though, and how that may effect their environment in the future. Much To Think About.

[shinebrightlikeanarwhal]

Your Boyfriend AU where Travis is going on a stroll through the woods by the church and runs into his creepy stalkers that think they date him.

Instead of finding him at a bench conveniently placed, he has options. Head towards town and you run into both. Head towards the lake and you run into Larry. Head towards the park you run into Sal! No matter what you choose you’ll have both man down disastrous for Travis.

Not following the SF canon, these guys were huge enigmas in highschool so Travis never paid attention. In fact if going off YBF lore he would probably have never met them. (But they could know who Travis is.)

Larry having a huge emo/goth aesthetic in highschool that only developed more into a biker, band drummer for a really popular band. Travis being the root cause for one of their hit tracks when he subconsciously rejected Larry. (How was Travis going to know the ‘secret admirer’ was this lurking giant in fishnets and chains???)

If the boys are lucky, Travis will be happy to talk about their shared past. Sal, one of the other alternative kids in their school, would have no problem chatting up Travis. Since he knew so much. He even knew the stall Travis always hid in if he got overstimulated from school or his dad was picking him up. Sal HATED Travis’ father… he’s glad Travis moved out with his long time friend, Philip.

Larry and Sal go on walks often to talk about life.they didn’t expect to find the one that got away still in town! They thought Travis would have fled, they were planning to move out and search for him. But instead their sweet little Travis waited for them to find him?? How precious!

If travis were a nosey person, he would have found the many items the brothers stole from his apartment after breaking in. The pictures of Travis taken without his knowledge. The videos… there were a lot of videos of travis. If he were to find them, he had better be quick in putting things away and pretending it wasn’t real. Or else, Sal would know. He’s very attentive to Travis. He would notice the aversion of eyes. The tense air whenever Sal got close.

Sal would offer him something to drink before they part. Some water, coffee? Anything for Travis. If he accepted he’d wake up in the bed. If he denied he’d wake up in the cabin. Sal doesn’t want to keep Travis in the cabin. But the cabin was safe. It would give them time to make Travis understand! He has to know that they were MEANT to be together!! Haha he CANT just runaway from them!

Larry doesn’t keep his collection open. His things are stored in his sacred place. His studio. Travis isn’t allowed in there, too many sharp objects, he’s afraid his poor baby will get hurt. However Travis did find his old year books and photo albums his mother would bring over. Adoring baby pictures of Larry. Giggling at childhood photos of Larry doing silly things. Even pulling out his phone to compare some of their photos and saying they must share a braincell! Larry wasn’t religious but he vowed to repay the god that blessed him with baby photos of Travis. When it got to highschool, Larry was a bit more reserved. He was used to people chastising his life style at the time. But he couldn’t handle if Travis disliked him.

“Wow! My father wouldn’t allow me to wear anything like that” Travis started. Turning to offer a bright smile to Larry. “You think I could pull it off now?”

Mental screaming, crying, sliding down the wall. Painting the ceilings white- basically Larry was excited.

Imagine the look on Sals face when he comes over to Larrys after an emergency text and sees Travis all punk’d out. Mmh.. nah maybe goth would fit Travis better?? Punk to have Travis’ titties out but goth would probably be much more comfortable.

Larry looks like a starved Wolf and plump lil chicken Travis is just strutting about. Flaunting the new look Larry helped him with. Sal of course can hold himself together long enough to talk about it with Travis.

[weelittleweasley]

Amortentia | Draco x Reader

Prompt: After having a large crush on Draco for two years, you decide to move on for your own sake. But what happens when you are in potions class and what you smell is not that of your current boyfriend, but of an old flame?

Warnings: angst, a lil fluff at the end

Requests status: Open and ready for some requests

A/N: New fandom, same old writer hehe. I thought I’d come back after a long hiatus and write a little something. Quarantine/the pandemic has me back in my teenage self. In this, we go through year 4 to year 6, so GoF to HBP :)

The bellows of the professor at the front of the classroom fall into muffled murmurs as you go in and out of daydreams, fiddling with the quill in your writing hand. As you draw nonsense pictures in the margins in your notebook, you fantasize scenarios in your head of the boy you’ve had your eye on since the beginning of year four at Hogwarts. In your head, it all made sense. The two of you were pure blood Slytherins, competitive and ballsy, ready to fight at a moment’s notice. That’s what you adored so much about the blonde boy. He may have his moments, but he always seemed to be ready for whatever. 

The corners of your mouth twirl upwards into a smile as you think about being able to wear his jumper, smelling his cologne on the collar. You think about his hands on your hip bones, squeezing them lightly as he peppers small, soft kisses on your neck and collarbones. Yearning to lace your fingers with his as he dips down his head to place a tender kiss to your l-

“Miss (Y/L/N), do you have anything to add?” Professor Moody snaps you from your daydream as you sit straight up, feet planted on the foot, picking your quill up back in writing position. You clear your throat and shake your head back and forth. “If you have nothing to add, I’d recommend you quit daydreaming and focus on what is going on at the front of the classroom.”

You breathe out a small, “Yessir,” before returning your attention back to your work. Small giggles are let out across the classroom, relishing in your embarrassment. Heat rises to your cheeks and you try to make yourself smaller by sinking into your chair a little and ducking your head downward. Peering up through your eyelashes, you try to sneak a look a Draco who is seated only two tables ahead and to the left of you. As you do so, you see that he was looking at you the whole time, him chuckling with Blaise Zabini before returning their focus to the blackboard. Embarrassment washes over you yet again, caught in the act of looking at the boy you fancied. 

Within the hour, Moody dismisses class and you gather your things swiftly, trying to leave class without Moody stopping you to ask why your mind was elsewhere today. As you fling your satchel across your body and tuck your notebook under your arm, you scurry out the door only to be stopped by Blaise. 

“Would you move it, Zabini? I have to get to astronomy,” you push Blaises large chest with your hand, before booking it in the opposite direction. You can’t escape him, or so it seems, because he walks beside you now down the corridor to your next class. “Are you obsessed with me or something? What’s your deal?”

Blaise laughs, “I didn’t know that you get so distracted during class, doodling and dreaming, (Y/N). What’s more interesting than a class with Moody?” He nudges his shoulder into you, making you stumble a little bit as you walk.

Now getting really annoyed since he brought up what happened in class, you stop in your tracks and hit him with your notebook. “Leave. Me. Alone. You. Arse,” you speak in between slaps and Blaise just laughs as you swat him. Before you can walk away from him, he quickly snatches your notebook from your hands and your eyes grow wide. If he flipped through the pages just right, he could see all of your Draco doodles. “Hey, give that back! That’s private!”

You jump for your notebook, but with no avail since Blaise was significantly taller than you. He carelessly flips through pages, “Now what does Miss (Y/L/N) write about in class? Taking diligent notes?” With one final shove, your notebook falls onto the ground, wide open to the page where you have written Draco Malfoy in script in the margins of your notebook, so much so that it creates a border around your note in the center of the page. Blaise lets out a deep chuckle, “Ho-ho! That’s where little Miss (Y/L/N)’s thoughts have been! The Slytherin Prince!” 

Before Blaise can torment you anymore, you grab your notebook off the floor and slam it shut. Your heart is racing, Blaise is in Draco’s inner circle and if Blaise knew about your crush, that meant Draco was bound to find out. Your anxiety swells and your chest tightens. Your grip becomes iron on your notebook now, unwilling to surrender it if someone dares to snatch it away from you again. You look up at Blaise and if you look up any longer at the shit-eating grin he has on his face, you’ll start crying. As if this day could not get any worse. Blaise immediately recognizes your facial expression as a girl who has just been hurt and he instantly retaliates, regretting what he just did. “I told you that was private,” you manage to speak out before walking away briskly.

The sound of quickened footsteps follow you and Blaise voice says, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just thought we were having fun, that’s all!” he attempts to rationalize. You ignore his feeble attempt at an apology. “I won’t tell Malfoy. It’ll just inflate his ego,” he attempts to humor you.

“I would hope not. That would be the most human thing to do,” you spit at him. “Just leave me alone, okay? I think you’ve done enough damage for today.”

“(Y/N)!” Blaise calls out before you turn around to enter your next class. “Please. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean it.”

You look at him and by the look on his face, you can tell he means it, which is surprising. You sigh, “I believe you. Just...don’t do it again. And please, don’t tell...” you don’t want to say his name in fear if you say it, he’ll come right around the corner. “...him.”

Blaise offers you a warm smile. “Your secret is safe with me.” You let go of your held breath, some tension releasing from your shoulders. “Can I just ask? What is the fascination of him? Is it his hair?” he asks, making you laugh lightly. There were many reasons you liked Draco; his personality, his smile, his drive, the cool blue gray color of his eyes, the way his nose scrunched up when he laughed. There was so much to like. Blaise notices your pregnant pause and smiles, “Never mind me asking. I have a feeling it will take too long to get your response.”

“Goodbye, Zabini,” you trail off, trying to slip into your class before he stops you yet again.

“Wait! Um,” Blaise stutters. “So, the Yule Ball is coming up soon. And I know maybe you were hoping to get asked by a certain...someone else,” he winks as you roll your eyes, “but I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?” he delivers the last part confidently, like he was giving you a sales pitch. 

You quickly thought about it. Although the chances of Draco asking you were slim to none, you still were holding out that maybe he noticed you and wanted to take you to the Yule Ball. But the proposition with Blaise sounded like fun. Blaise knew how to have a good time and you rather go with another Slytherin than with some half-blood from another house. And as selfish as it was to say, you would probably be invited to get ready with the other Slytherin girls like Pansy which meant more time to see Draco. Offering him a sweet smile you reply, “I’d like that. Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to go to class, Zabini.”

Blaise smiles and lightly blushes, but turns away, hoping you would not catch it. But you did before you slipped into your astronomy class before the professor started.

Soon enough, the Yule Ball rolled around and like you had previously thought, you found yourself in Pansy’s room, getting ready for the ball. You lightly tugged the rollers out of Pansy’s hair, helping her finish getting ready as she rambles on and on to Daphne Greengrass about their magical creatures class. A small smile tugs on your lips as you remain bystander to the conversation, enjoying the ridiculousness of the conversation. Your thoughts are disturbed when Pansy says, “Oh, wow, (Y/N). When you said you could do hair, you meant it!” She shakes her head side to side, causing her loose curls to shimmy across her shoulders. You had to admit she looked beautiful. 

You shrug, “Don’t mention it. Could you zip up the back of my dress?” You turn around, feeling the zipper close, the dress fitting around your figure tighter. When you turn around, you take a look at yourself in the mirror. Iridescent green fabric clung to your body fabulously, a deep v plunging down to your chest, your dècolletage shimmering in the light. It was a stunning dress; your mom had sent it over from London. It was her dress when she went to the Yule Ball at your age. 

“You look radiant,” Daphne tells you, placing her hands on your shoulders. “Blaise is going to be drooling.” Pansy and Daphne giggle, hoping you would join in. But you just offer them a small smile in return, secretly wishing there was another boy who would be gawking over how radiant you looked. “Something wrong?” Daphne asks.

Pansy looks at your face, “Do you not wanna go to the ball anymore?”

“No!” you exclaim. “I do! I do want to go!” You calm down both the girls as they dramatically sigh. “I just did not picture myself going to the ball with Blaise,” you confess. 

The girls exchange confused expressions before looking back at you. “What do you mean? Do you not fancy Blaise?” Pansy asks.

“No! I like Blaise! He’s a charming boy, don’t get me wrong. And he’s very handsome.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Pansy asks. 

He’s not Draco, you think to yourself. But instead of that you say, “I just fancy someone else.” That was probably too much information to give to the girls, you know they would take and spread some sort of rumor, but you give them the benefit of the doubt. “This does not leave this room,” you say sternly. You extend both of your pinky fingers to Daphne and Pansy, making them pinky promise and kiss their thumbs: your ritual for making promises. 

“So...” Daphne starts. “Can we know who you do fancy then?”

Your anxiety peaks again. If you even murmured that you liked Draco, Pansy would probably loose her mind. Pansy basically called dibs on Draco when you stepped foot at Hogwarts. In all seriousness, Pansy has fancied Draco longer than you, so it just seemed inconsiderate and rude to tell her that you had feelings for the same platinum haired boy. “You’ll find out later. Besides, we should get going now,” you change the subject.

You make your way down the stairs and the winding halls of Hogwarts before arriving at a tall staircase leading to the Ball’s entrance. Your arms are linked with both Daphne and Pansy’s as you descend the staircase. Your eyes roam the floor, looking for a certain blonde haired Slytherin and you almost immediately find him. And to your surprise, his eyes have found you. Your pair of eyes burns into his, creating a tunnel vision. The orchestra that plays in the other room becomes white noise and everyone else seems to disappear. It is just you and him now. He look absolutely dashing. His suit fits him excellently and his hair is perfectly swept back. His eyes are open in wonder as he watches you descent the staircase, looking absolutely regal. This moment feels like forever and you never wanted it to end. But it sadly does when you both realize you haven’t looked at either of your actual dates to the ball. Your eyes drift away from his blue ones and they meet Blaise’s brown ones instead. He is smiling big at you which makes you laugh. When you make it down the stairs, he meets you at the bottom and grabs your hand like an absolute gentleman. “You are unearthly, (Y/L/N),” he whispers before kissing the back of your hand. 

Smiling at the compliment, you thank him. “You are not too bad yourself, Zabini.” He did look great. His suit was tailored perfectly to his tall, muscular figure and his shoes were shined so bright that you could practically see your reflection in them. 

“Shall we head in there?” he asks, offering his arm to you to hold. You smile and take his arm. But not before taking one look at Draco. He kisses Pansy’s hand gently, but as he does this, his gaze is on you the whole time and only breaks when he comes back up to look at Pansy and give her a smile.

This was going to be a long night. 

Since that night, your relationship with Blaise grew. You went from friends, to something more than friends, to boyfriend and girlfriend. You didn’t expect to end up dating Zabini after the Yule Ball, but you decided that maybe pursing something with him was more realistic than chasing after Draco. He obviously had a thing for Pansy and Pansy for him and who were you to ruin that? So you let yourself use Blaise as a distraction or someone else to focus on rather than pining over Draco. However, it did drive you mad when you would all be in Slytherin common room and you sat on the floor next to Blaise and Pansy would sit on Draco’s lap when there was plenty of room on the couch. You also did not feel bad when Blaise would make fun on Pansy having an obvious crush on him. You would hide your laugh as Blaise pulled you closer to him. 

That being said, as you got closer with Blaise, you got closer with his friends. Which meant having to face Draco and swallow your feelings. You always felt like such a poser when you were with Blaise. You knew it was wrong to date someone who genuinely liked you and you liked someone else. But you just crossed your fingers and hoped that your feelings for Malfoy would melt away and your feelings for Blaise would grow. Of course, with your luck, nothing happened. Your feelings for Draco were just solidified if anything. He was cheeky and smart mouthed, which you just loved. He kept you on your toes. Blaise wasn’t like that; he was predictable. Draco would make jokes that only you two would hear and you would laugh until your ribs shook. Blaise has never done that. But it wasn’t right to compare Blaise to Draco; it was an unfair competition. 

Regardless, you stayed with Blaise. Too afraid to break up with him and too afraid to tell Draco how you felt, you stayed in a relationship where you lied not only to yourself but to another person every day. A good person at that. Blaise was a great guy and every day you held his hand, shared a kiss, cuddled up together, you felt guilty. You were hurting him more and more with everyday. And you were hurting yourself by being in this relationship for so long. But you stayed. 

Back in a classroom, this time Slughorn’s potions class, you stood next to Pansy waiting for the class to begin. You looked across the room to see your boyfriend toss you a wink as you lightly smiled. “I love you,” he mouthed as you sighed. 

You did love Blaise. So much. But not in the way he wanted. And yet, here you were, mouthing an “I love you too” back to him, causing him to smile wide. You turn to Pansy, “So what are we supposed to be doing today? If it’s boring, I’m going to use the washroom.” Using the washroom was always code for going back to your room. 

Pansy giggled, “Today’s class should be good. I heard Slughorn has Amortentia today.” Your heart sank. Amortentia: the most powerful love potion in the world. People say that it smells different for everyone according to what they are most attracted to. “Your should be easy. Smells just like Zabini I bet,” she nudges your side as you offer a convincing smile and girlish giggle. “I’m sure I know what mine smells of...” she trails off before looking over to Draco who was too involved talking to Zabini to notice her gaze. 

Slughorn starts class, reciting off lists of potions to which Granger completes his every question without fail. You roll your eyes, “Some people are just such show offs,” you whisper to Pansy, making her laugh. You join her, causing Draco to look your way, more interested in what you were laughing at rather than the lesson Slughorn was giving. You look away from Draco and focus back on the lesson, hoping it would distract you from those familiar gray eyes. 

Hermoine talks more about Amortentia before prompting Slughorn to ask your classmates to come up at random and speak what they smell. Granger goes first and describes a horrific combination of mowed grass and spearmint toothpaste. Others go after and then Blaise volunteers to go next. “Mr. Zabini, please, go head,” Slughorn says before Blaise steps up to the small caldron and take a whiff.

“I smell...morning rain...vanilla...and jasmine,” he smiles as he finishes his sentence, looking right at you. Your heart sinks. Blaise had smelt your perfume and everyone in the class knew it. Those who were friends with him laughed as Pansy let out an ooooh. You told her to shut up with a jab to the side as she continued to tease you. 

“Miss (Y/L/N), you’ve been awfully quiet this class. How about you come up and smell?” Slughorn proposes.

You freeze. Absolutely not. There was no way you were going to get up there and smell the Amortentia. You knew exactly what you were going to smell and you were not prepared to tell the class and your boyfriend that what you were smelling was Draco Malfoy. 

“I’m fine, actually.”

“That was less of a question and more of a demand, Miss (Y/L/N),” Slughorn rephrases, earning a few laughs from Gryffindors to which you shoot them a dirty look, causing them to stop. “Well?”

You look at Slughorn and gulp. He offers you a gentle smile and you can’t deny the man any further. You sigh and slowly walk up to the caldron. You are a foot away and already the scent slaps you in the face. It almost makes you cough from how strong it is. Right next to the pot, you look down at the bubbling liquid with pink fumes evaporating from it. Closing your eyes and iInhaling deeply, you get chills. The scent makes you forget where you are. What time it is. Who is watching. It’s euphoric. It’s perfect. It’s him. The smell of musky cologne, leather polish, and green apples dance around your nose and your stomach erupts with butterflies. 

“What do you smell?” Slughorn asks, snapping you out of your daydream.

“I’m sorry?” you ask.

“What do you smell?” he repeats. 

Suddenly, you remember that you have to tell the class what you are smelling. Or who you are smelling. Once you said what you smelled, everyone would know who you were talking about. Pansy would know. Blaise would know. Draco would know. You try to think. What in the world does Blaise smell like? Can you lie about this stuff? For Merlin’s sake, what does Blaise smell like?! “Um...” you try to concoct your way out of this situation. You try to think of what your boyfriend smells like, but the scent of Malfoy is clogging every single sense. 

“Say it then,” Slughorn urges you.

“Cologne, leather polish, and green apples,” you blurt, confessing what you were most afraid of to the class. You slowly open your eyes and see the smile that was once on Blaise face quickly fall. His eyes pang with hurt and pain and your heart drops into your stomach. You wanna run over to him and tell him how sorry you were and how much you loved him, but this thing with the Slytherin prince was unshakeable. Too hurt to look at Blaise anymore, you glance at Pansy, who is just enraged. Her ears are bright red, eye locked onto you, unwavering. Her eyes dig into your soul and you can hear her saying in your head, “You’re bloody joking, right?” You don’t dare look at Draco, but in the periphery you see him just staring at you, lips parted, breathing softly, eyes burning into the back of your head. 

Slughorn notices the tension and attempts to diffuse the situation. “Alright, everyone take your seats,” he dismisses. You walk quickly to Pansy who swiftly moves away to you and toward Blaise who sits with Draco, taking up a whole table with no room for you like usual. Instead, you find yourself sitting with random Ravenclaws for the rest of class, unable to think straight about what just happened. The look on Blaise’s face was enough to have you in tears and the look of betrayal on Pansy’s face drove you mad. You spent the whole class thinking, what have I done? 

As soon as class is dismissed, you watch Blaise’s movements, wanting to catch him or Pansy after class. Pansy leaps off her chair and to the door and you quickly follow suit. “Pansy!” you call after her. “Pans, please! Please can we talk about this? Please do not shut me out!”

“Why not?” she yells back. “You lied to me! You could have told me how you felt! You knew how i felt and yet you still lied to me!” 

“I know, but I thought what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. But I just ended up hurting you anyway and I am sorry, Pansy. I am so sorry,” you attempt to reconcile with your best friend as she fumes. 

Pansy shakes her head. “I just need space. Away from you. Can you at least respect that?” she sarcastically says. “There’s someone else you owe a bigger apology to,” she tells you before trotting away down the hall back to the Slytherin common room. 

You turn around and there stands Blaise, stoic and tall. His eyes are soft and full of so much pain. You could cry. You start to cry. “Blaise,” you croak out. “I didn't mean to hurt you. Please know that is the last thing I wanted to do. When you asked me to the Yule Ball, I thought that it would be a good way to get over Draco, but I-I don’t know what happened? Nothing happened, I guess. I value you and your friendship so much. Blaise, I love you, I’m so sorry. I thought not tell you how I really, truly felt would protect you.”

Blaise sighs, “(Y/N), I know you didn’t mean to. For Merlin’s sake, I’m not a git. I knew you still liked Malfoy.” Your eyes widen. Huh? Before you could ask every single question that flurried into your brain, Blaise stops you and says, “From that moment in the hallway during year four until now, I knew. I thought that the longer I stayed with you, I could convince you that I could love you more than he could. But I don’t think that’s true...(Y/N), I love you. What either of us did was not right and I think we just need space from each other right now.”

You shake your head. You couldn’t lose Pansy and Blaise. That would be too much. “No, I can’t lose you, Blaise. I need you,” you beg, holding onto his forearms. 

“It isn’t for forever, darling. Just for a little. I think we both a need a little space from each other right now,” he holds your face in one of his hands and you lean into his touch, soothing you almost instantly like it has done so many times before. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” You nod, him wiping away your tears before replacing it with a gentle kiss on the apple of your cheek. “Besides, I think you have to talk to someone else,” he whispers in your ear, before walking away, revealing Draco standing behind him.

Your breath hitches in your throat. His eyes burn into yours just like that night at the Yule Ball. A small smile on his lips dances as a last tear strolls down your cheek. He takes a few steps towards you and you instinctively take a few steps back. Draco looks a little hurt that you moved away from him so quickly. You gulp, not knowing what to say, what to do. Who would in a situation like this? Lightly sniffling, you wipe away your tears with the sleeve of your robe, not breaking eye contact with him. Draco opens up his mouth to say something, but then chooses not to. He closes his mouth, pressing his lips into a line, thinking of what to say. You watch him think, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he finds the right words to say. 

“Uh,” he starts. “How lo-”

“Year four,” you answer, knowing exactly what he was going to say.

He lightly laughs at how prepared you were to answer him. He nods. “I thought,” he lightly speaks, looking at you with a small smile. He is trying so hard to get you to open up to him. Or even crack a small smile at him. But that seemed really impossible right now. The two people who you cared about more than anything just told you they needed time away from you. You felt like an awful person. Although you should be in Draco’s arm right now, stroking his hair, kissing his lips, telling him how happy you were, you were standing four feet away from him, a shaking mess, tears still flowing from your eyes. “Here,” he reaches into his pocket and offers you a handkerchief. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, accepting his token, blotting your eyes with the green silky cloth. You blow your nose into it, loudly. You look at him, watching his reaction, wondering if you should return a snotty handkerchief. “I...I can wash it for you.”

He chuckles, “Don’t worry about it. Keep it if you need it.” You smile and tug it away in your bag. Silence falls over you two again. “Can I stand next to you?” he asks permission, knowing how fragile you are right now. You nod and he slowly makes his way towards you, stopping about three inches away from you. Your breath hitches in your throat when you look up and see the proximity of your faces from each other. “May I hold you hand?” he asks, you shaking your head yes slowly. With that, he grabs your left hand in his large hand, pressing yours flat against his before intertwining the fingers. It makes you smile softly which makes his heart flutter at your excitement. Draco so desperately wants to hug you, squeeze you, kiss you. But he knows he needs tread lightly. “I wanted to take you to the Yule Ball,” he confesses as he looks at your hands intertwined.

Your head shoots up and your eyebrows furrow. “You did?” you ask, not believing him. He shakes his head yes. You pause. This made no sense. “Then why didn’t you ask me?” you ask.

Draco sighs. “I didn’t know you well. Zabini said he wanted to ask you. I stepped back.” So much has happened today you cannot wrap your brain around what has just been said. “But now...I know you better. And now that you and Zabini are no longer...” he trails off, looking up at you with those chilling blue eyes that make your knees weak and heart putty. 

You want to scream yes. Wrap your arms around him. Kiss him. Hard. Breath in his scent that has haunted you for nights on end. Finally, he was yours. You were his. But that would not be right. It wouldn’t be fair to Blaise. Or Pansy. Or you. Or Draco. You needed time. “Draco...” you say, breathily.

“Yes?” he asks, eyes so bright and shimmering with so much hope and longing. Merlin’s beard, he wanted to kiss your tear stained cheeks and hold you close, bodies becoming one. “Is something wrong?” he asks, worry creeping into his words, his free hand that isn’t holding your hand, cups your cheek. “Please tell me. I don’t want to wait any longer. I can’t wait any longer.” 

His words make your heart break, knowing that you needed to wait longer. Just a little bit longer. “Draco...” you repeat, the tears welling back up in your eyes, slowly dripping own your cheek, but Draco is quick to wipe them away. “I...” you start, but your voice fails you. 

“Take your time,” he breathes. Oh, how he was so right. 

“I need time,” you repeat after him. 

“Yes, take your time. Breathe,” he says, thinking that what you are saying is applying to just now. 

“No, Draco,” you tell him, reaching up to his wrist, pushing his hand away from your face. “I need time. To process this. Blaise, Pansy...us...I need time.”

His eyes fall and the once happy expression on his face is fading fast. But he knows that you were right. It would be too fast. Too much for the both of you. You both needed time to think, recover, and come back to each other.

“And I will wait for you,” he reassures you, both of his hands cupping your small ones. “If I waited this long already, I can wait a little while longer.”

It’s like he knew exactly what to say. His words make you smile softly and you feel just a little bit better. Your smile makes me him smile. So you just stand there, your hand in his two large ones, smiling at each other. He places a tender kiss on your knuckles and then another to your forehead. His actions make your heart flutter, knowing that if this is what a relationship with Draco was like right now, you were in for a treat. You whisper a weak thank you and he shakes his head, laughing that you would thank him for something like this.

“Now go get some rest, darling,” he presses his forehead against yours and you flutter your eyes closed, loving the feeling of him being so close to you. It felt so good to finally have him next to you. You pull away, give him a gentle smile, and start to walk back to the Slytherin common room. 

Draco watches you walk away, down the hall. In his head, he thought to himself, I can wait a little longer. Because you are worth waiting for.  

[binniesthighs]

i loveeee your first write abt Jisung omgggg he is like one of my BIGGEST bias wrecker of all time so i was like WOAH THERE,,,, and i was so hooked on your writings i wanna see more 👀 if you have free time can i please ask for a Jeonghan smut where he is your rival in everything let's say at school and u didn't actually like him at first but he kinda flirts and idk I'm just so into Jeonghan's cocky behavior these daysss he's making me feel thiiiiiiingsssss 😩❤️

ahh thank you anon you are so so sweet! ♡ I’m so happy that you liked my Jisung stuff! I love writing for that boy hehe and thank you so much for requesting love!! this is my first seventeen ask I’m so so excited to write more of them in the future! my brain really took this one and rannnn with it, it ended up a bit harder than I intended, I hope that’s okay and I hope that you enjoy it!

what i want most |reader x jeonghan |

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x yoon jeonghan

Genre: lil bit of smut, lil bit of angst

Tags: harddom!jeonghan, bratty!reader, enemies (competitors) to lovers, college au, jeonghan being our fave cocky boy, bestfriend!seungcheol, mentions of school work, slow-ish burn, masturbation (reader), use of degrading names, dumification, hook-up, choking, marking, spanking, facefucking, gagging, use of safe symbols, nipple play, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie, slight exhibitionism, semi-public sex, sex in a study room

Word count: 4k

Someone told you once long ago that hate is a strong word. Apparently, they had never experienced loathing before. To you, hate always seemed to be something playful, something a little teasing. When your best friends would mock you for the most insignificant things, you would say “cut that shit out. You know that I hate you right?”

Loathing is much more fun. Loathing holds more of an edge. Loathing keeps you up at night, and lingers in your mind. Loathing digs into your skin like a papercut, coming back to sting later when you stretch your skin. Loathing made you feel all twisted up inside. This one super-massive emotion is one that clings to you and makes you jealous and irritable, and the best of all, competitive.

You don’t know what you would be without loathing...if not for him.

But as much as you loathed him, he was the perfect elixir of sugar-coated poison.  

He kept you up at night. He lingered in your mind.

Everything about you, he had to do too. You didn’t know at this point if it was some kind of joke, or that the two of you had miraculously been crafted to be just that similar.

Since the day that you had met him three years ago in undergrad, there wasn’t one class that the two of you didn’t share. Every single job that you applied to, he would apply to as well. Each professor that you would introduce yourself to, the next day he would be cozied up next to them talking about some kind of bullshit and pretended to care about their personal lives. He even chose the exact same grad program as you.

When the two of you graduated, it was him who sucked in his lip, never breaking with your eyes when he received higher honors than you. He probably loathed you too.

That would keep you up at night too.

There were other things about him as well that would creep into the corners of your sleep deprived brain. You would stare into the darkness of your room, eyes glued to the ceiling with your mind exploring shameless answers.

During these dark nights, your hand would absentmindedly cascade down your body, snaking your fingers down the soft of your skin. Behind your eyes, it was him sending shivers down your body. It was his lithe fingers, not yours, that would reach down to your aching sex to pleasure you into all the fantasies that only remained within the confines of your own mind. Before you would climax, it was his name that you whispered out into the air, not even knowing that you did.

“Jeonghan.”

•·················•·················•

“Are you going to finish that, or what?”

Seungcheol rummaged around your bag of chips that were barely touched.

Your highlighter skimmed over your page, you twisted the writing utensils around in your hand to scratch down a note with your pen. Truthfully, you hadn’t heard him.

“...I mean, if you don’t, I will. Can’t let stuff like this go to waste.” He held the bag in his lap, happily crunching away and tapping his foot a little.

“--Can you chew quieter?”

“...Me?”

“Yes, you.” You bopped him softly on top of his wavy caramel hair with your marked up article.

Seungcheol cringed and rubbed the top of his head as if you had hit him with something much denser than a stack of paper.

“In my defense, there isn’t really a quiet way to eat chips.” He popped another one in. “Are you gonna be done soon? It’s too...still out here.”

“You’re the one that suggested coming here!”

His puppy-like face turned combative. “I did!...only because I think it’s pretty though.” Your friend shied away, trying to uphold his promise of “chewing quieter,” and subsequently failing.

He wasn’t wrong however, the courtyard in the middle of the library was very pretty, and you had been glad that he had suggested the two of you take lunch there. Inside the square shaped yard, a few trees had been planted with low swaying branches of little oval shaped leaves. There were hedges and a myriad of flowering plants with petals that were pink or yellow or purple. Somehow the little square was untouched by sound, save for a couple songbirds. Had you not a copious amount of work to take care of, you would have admired it all for hours.

“--And to answer your question, no, I will not be done soon. Sorry. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

Seungcheol cooly threw one of his arms over the silver outdoor chair next to him, shaking you off. “I don’t mind. I don’t have anything else that I really wanna be doing right now.”

“--Your thesis maybe?” You crashed your knee into his under the table and threw him a teasing smirk.

“I said, anything that I want to do.”

You nabbed one of your chips back. “Suit yourself then.”

The door to the courtyard clicked, followed by the creak of the old library door. Such a metallic sound stole the tranquility of the whole space.

“Y/n.”

Jeonghan came floating behind you, dressed in his usual attire: some type of glamorous pairing of dress pants and a button down as well as shoes that looked as if they had just been shined. He wore some kind of cologne that draped after him with a dizzying type of efflorescence. Everything about him was meticulously planned, down to the few purposefully unkempt strands of chocolate brown hair on his forehead.

He craned his neck a little to see your messy scribbles.

“You’re reading Nebasifu?”

Jeonghan leaned over you, tracing a finger over the neon orange highlights you had made. He shocked you with how close he had let himself get to you, practically encapsulating you in his arms. You found yourself staring into his neck, that floral scent forcibly permeating your air.

“Hmm.”

He hummed as he read over your notes. “Interesting conclusions right? The fact that in governance we create more problems when trying to solves the ones we have already made? It’s all so circular isn’t it?”

Your sweating palm crunched the paper out from under his fingertips.

“--Really interesting. I’d like to finish it...if you please.” While your words were polite, but they still bit.

“I can recommend more similar readings if you’re interested?”

“I’m fine. Thanks for the offer.”

“If it doesn’t make sense, you can always reach out, we can talk it through...I’ve found that discussing--”

“--I said that I’m fine. Nice talking to you Jeonghan.” You cast your eyes down to your paper and attempt to slow your viciously beating chest.

fucking leave. You pleaded, knuckles turning white around your pen.

“Alright then. See you later.” He straightened his glasses upon his nose bridge. “I look forward to hearing what you have to say about the topics later.”

He swept his hand lightly across your back. It was the most fleeting of gestures, but your entire body froze from it.  

Jeonghan situated himself at one of the benches and drew out a book. He sat in the direct beams of the afternoon sun. The brown wisps of hair that hit the light looked nearly golden. You loathed that he was breathtaking without even really trying.

Seungcheol grinded his teeth, muttering out, “Fucking creep. He can’t talk to you like that.” Even quieter, “I’ll take him out for you if you want me to.”

You stifled a laugh. You couldn’t help your eyes which would flutter over to him like it was forbidden.

“No, don’t do that. But thank you ‘Cheol.”

“I’ll do it! I swear...”

•·················•·················•

Jeonghan had a terrible habit. Not like it was particularly distracting, it was just something that you had taken notice of. From where you would sit nearly across the room from him, he would remove his glasses, then rest one of the temple tips between his lips. Sometimes, the click of his teeth would meet the plastic. It was a simple action, but the way that the little curve would rest on the pink of his lips made your mind wonder...the poison that would leave those same lips couldn’t have been real; not when they looked so sweet.

“--anyone want to share what they got out of the readings and case studies? What can we learn about our interference and the sovereignty of other states?”

You were only partially paying attention when Jeonghan silently rose his hand.

“I think that Y/n had a particularly interesting oponion on this. We were discussing this previously.” He curved his body around to meet your eyes which had already been inspecting him.

With an expectant crossing of his arms, your professor approached your desk. “Y/n?”

Everyone’s eyes were on you, but Jeonghan’s burned with the hottest flame.

You took your shaking hands into your lap, then gave your oponion as eloquently as you could, swallowing down your nerves. As usual, you were perfectly well spoken, as you knew you were. The professor nodded along with each point of your argument.

“--Very well articulated Y/n. And your counterpoints are provoking as well.” He finally turned to pace away. “Would anyone like to expand?”

Your professor’s body mass moved, revealing Jeonghan’s nearly sinful prideful smile. It was like he had given you a test, and you had passed magnificently. With the cock of his head, he mouthed,

“that was lovely.”

“I’d like to expand.” He piped, removing his glasses. Just as he always would, he tapped them between his lips, letting the skin fall a little by them. You had noticed it before, but they were smooth and plump. “I think that Y/n is correct...in many ways, but some points are a bit misguided, I would argue....”

•·················•·················•

[09:23 pm]

cheol: you coming back anytime soon?  i can’t believe you’re doing this to me on a friday. is it really that serious?

[09:26 pm]

me: need I remind you that you should probably be here with me? thesis papers don’t write themselves.

cheol: and I should remind YOU that we literally just got off break? they aren’t due for months.

i know what you’re trying to prove.

it’s not worth it.

what does that asshole have over you?

“--Shouldn’t you be back at home with that golden retriever of yours?”

Jeonghan’s pen tapped at your table, white sleeves rolled up. The day had taken it’s toll on him. The bags under his eyes proved that even someone as picturesque as him could still be effected by your long days. Nevertheless disheveled, he was just as alluring.

“And shouldn’t you be flirting with one of your students?” You clicked your phone off.

“Cute. Luckily I’m not one of the desperate ones starving for the attention of the little undergrads. That's a different kind of pathetic.”

“Hmmm. I just thought that it was the attention that you were after.” Heat rose to your ears while you breathed your beating heart down.

"Who doesn’t like attention? Especially if it’s from the right people...speaking of undergrads...”

Jeonghan’s slender neck twisted to eye the obnoxious group of students huddled up on a table, giggling and making a mess of their snacks.

“You’re studying out here? I can’t even--”

“--I appreciate the concern, but you’re not helping my focus either.”

“Am I...distracting you?” Jeonghan swept his warm brown hair to the side with the cock of his eyebrow.

You shook out a sigh. “Yes.”

“You don’t have an office?”

“Department didn’t have any more.”

“I’ve got a study room that I host study sessions in. You want to use it?”

“You’re offering to help me?”

“Listen, I know how hard our program can be, and I appreciate how hard you work. You deserve a quiet place to work.”

“Are you complimenting me?”

“Don’t make me change my mind...and what would I do if the competition suddenly dropped out?” He tapped the table with his fingertips. “That wouldn’t be very much fun.”

•·················•·················•

Jeonghan’s study room was simple, just like all the others in the library. It was stark, white, the tables were a bit banged up and the white board was riddled with little ink remnants. There were glass windows nearly everywhere so you could overlook both the outdoors and the rest of the library on the opposite wall. As the two of you entered, he calmly closed all the blinds.

“No distractions right?” He looked back to you.

“...do you have something that you need to get done too?”

“Not really. I’ve submitted a good chunk of my thesis for review.”

Of course he had.

“I’m just waiting to hear back.”

He crossed the room to sit directly next to you, slinging his legs up on the table and taking out that same book from earlier: it had some pretentious title that you had never heard of before.

“Don’t mind me.” He chided your straying eyes. “I’m only staying to lock the door after you.”

“I-I’m not...” Your eyes feel back to your computer and you typed at your keyboard just to fill the sound of the quiet room.

Sitting this close to you, you could smell that dizzyingly sweet smell of his again.

You loathed him for the way that he could be doing nothing and you could be enthralled in merely that.

Jeonghan’s eyes didn’t leave his page. “The more that you look at me, the less you’re working.”

You hadn’t even noticed.

“I guess I’m more distracting than I thought.”

Furious heat rose from the pit of your stomach to the tips of your ears.

“What the hell do you get off on?” You spat.

He calmly placed his book on the table. “What are you referring to?”

“For the past three years, you haven’t left me alone for a single second, you-you always do everything that I do like you’re on some kind of sick quest to prove that you’re better than me, better than anyone else--”

“--You think that I’m copying you?”

“Wha-what else would you be doing?”

“--Getting an education? God, you think that I’m the attention whore, aren’t you hearing yourself?? You must think that I’m obsessed with you.”

“What is it then? A superiority complex so fucking huge--”

“--You’re asking what it is that I want?”

You nodded back with heaving breaths.

“What I get off on? Well...” Jeonghan chuckled a little and raked his hands through his brown strands. “You don’t deserve to know. But there is one thing that I’ve wanted for a while that I haven’t been able to get my hands on. I suppose that’s what I want most.”

“And that is?”

Tentatively, he rose his hand nearer to you, saying nothing, his aura shifting from cocky to intrigued. At first, his fingers traced over the skin of your hand as if he was drawing little pictures into it. After he brushed his hand up your arm to weave a little strand of your hair around his fingers.

“I said you don’t deserve to know.”

You must have been in a daze; some kind of waking intoxication before your thoughts could catch up with your actions. It was almost as if you weren’t thinking anything at all, but where acting on prime instinct. Your whole body screamed with utter frustration: every word that he spoke to you make you loathe him even more, you wouldn’t ever let him get away with it.

There was something that you too wanted most, no matter how abhorrent it was.

Your thighs squeezed into his sides where you had straddled him in his chair, holding on to him so tightly it hurt your muscles. The haste on your lips on his was messy and hot, a smearing of skin and teeth crashing together with fury, tongues rolling off eachother with an undeniable hunger. His arms didn’t wrap around you but rather clawed in your hair, pulling slightly at the roots while he pulled you in impossibly close. The mixing of your gasping breaths together where whiny and yearning. As he kissed into you, his lips curled into a devilish smile.

In your arousal, you shoved your hips into his lap, grinding down into your excitement and seeking some from him. To your surprise, you could feel his hardening dick which only made you weaker. All the hundreds of little fantasies that you had held so secret started to dance in your mind; your darkest thoughts pleaded for him to destroy you, to ravage you, just as you had imagined.

Jeonghan’s lips tore from your own which he had worked until they were swollen. He mouthed down your jaw to your neck, sucking at the skin with no chance of mercy, he pulled and sucked until you could only pathetically beg for him to slow down for fear of him breaking the skin.

He stopped immediately to pull your shirt over your head and pick up his work there. The wet of his gorgeously plump lips on your skin was as perfect as you had imagined and it sent shivers echoing through all your limbs.

“Jeong-Jeonghan--”

This time you perfectly aware that it was indeed his name that would escaping off your tongue.

“You dumb slut, you thought I didn’t know that you wanted me?”

“You-you want me too?”

Jeonghan worked at the buttons on your pants.

“Wanting implies that I like you. What I want most is to make you my toy. There’s a difference.”

You mumbled out the words knowing exactly how he would take them. “I’m not a fucking toy.”

Jeonghan tsked and unbuttoned his own shirt. “You don’t get to decide that.”

You drew your fingers down his model-like toned chest, marveling in the pink lines. Jeonghan grunted in response, taking you by the underside of your thighs to throw you down on your back against the hard plastic. Once he had the chance, he ridded you of your bottoms, running his hands up your inner legs to send you reeling. For a couple seconds, you could have sworn that he had stopped to admire your body, but he wouldn’t let you tell too easily.

“That door isn’t locked.”

“What? Are you scared that someone could walk in? Scared to for someone to see you all splayed out like this?” He rose to kiss up your stomach and up to your nipples. He flicked them between his fingers. “To have someone see me making a wreck of you?”

“N-no.”

With saliva drying on your sensitive buds, they turned hard in seconds when they met the air. Jeonghan wasn’t hesitant to pull at them with his teeth slightly, making you whine for him even more.

“What should I do to you first?”

One of his hands trickled down your body to palm at your quivering sex, slick with your excitement for him and aching for the smallest of touches.

“You want it that bad? Stupid whore.”

Your hand ventured down to tease at his own dick over the fabric of his slacks.

“You want it that bad?”

“Get off.” He growled at you, then took you by the arms to jerk you off of the table and onto your knees at the floor. Under your knees, the burn of the carpet stung. His belt buckle jingled a little as he hooked a finger in to remove it. Afterword, he shook his pants off followed by his briefs, springing loose his twitching member with the tip pink. He combed his fingers through your hair while he tapped his dick against your lips.

“Fucking take it.”

You would have fought him on it, but you succumbed out of your pure curiosity over his girth.

At first, you coaxed him into your mouth, not going in too deep as you were fearful about his length. Regardless, you took him in as best as you could, hollowing out your cheeks and throat, sucking with your lips and grabbing at his legs.

Jeonghan hissed out a sigh, letting himself fall further into the warmth of your mouth. He pushed at your head slightly, bringing you in just deep enough to trigger your gag reflex.

“Mmm there you go.” He cooed.

You kept going as he liked it, gradually working up in pace while it got a bit harder and harder for you to catch your breath.

“That’s as deep as you can go? Can’t even take a dick into your throat?”

His grip on your head tightened.

Jeonghan whispered, “Squeeze my leg if you want me to stop.” before helping your head all the way down, causing you to gag even harder and for tears to well in your eyes. “That’s more like it.”

He continued guiding your head, and slobber started to form around your mouth You felt so weak and pliable around him, he was thankless aside from the tiny moans he would let escape past his lips for you.

Usable as you felt, it was still a deliciously addictive feeling.  

All at once, he tore out of your mouth to bring you back up to your feet. In seconds he had turned you around to bend over the plastic tabletop, elbows digging into the cool surface. By now, you were practically dripping for him with knees and legs weak from kneeling. He kicked your legs open farther, gifting your ass a piercing slap that stung, then another followed after.

“Hungry for my cock, hmm?”

He teased your entrance without warning, sending your body crumbling over the table into a mess of whimpers and curses clenched behind your teeth. His lithe fingers were your fantasy come to life.

“I-I can’t wait any longer...” You urged him on.

Jeonghan pushed your face into the table then slid his fingers above to curl around your neck. He encircled around the skin slowly, then dug in to close your airway. You choked out desperate little sounds, then he entered you carefully, making sure that you felt every part of him.

“Hmm. Pretty...” He allowed you. Even though it was just one word of praise, you reveled in it.

His pale fingers choked you harder for a few more seconds until he properly got his pace inside of you, letting go to hold you by your waist. Once again, he clapped his hand into your skin as he fucked into you. All you could manage to do with your hands was claw helplessly at the smooth tabletop seeking some kind of balance that was nowhere to be found. He grazed the deepest and most sensitive spot within you and you felt yourself nearly reaching your climax.

“I-is that all that you can do?” You turned his confidence back against him, spurring him on just as you had wanted. He snapped his hips even faster, groaning out as he neared his release.

“My pretty little fucktoy. You’re all mine? Got it?”

Jeonghan leaned over your back to pant the words into your ear.

“Fucking say it.”

“I-I’m...” Your focus was scrambled as your orgasm pooled within.

“I’m yours...your...pretty-mm-fucktoy.”

Jeonghan came inside of you with white heat, pulsating forcefully, with you following soon after while he milked himself with your walls. Even as you still came down, he rolled his hips into you over and over until your whole body was shaking helplessly.

“That’s right.” He pulled out, then pulled your legs apart to watch his cum fall out of your hole.

Jeonghan laughed to himself, “Thank you for giving me what I wanted.”

[clubtuan]

Sorry, I couldn’t get to you

Pairing: Do Kyungsoo x female reader

Genre: The chilling adventure of Sabrina!au /witch!au /ansgt a lot of it/ mention of Swing Kids/ fluff / suggestive

Prompt : « I make my own happiness, and I hope you can too » - Sabrina Morningstar

A/N: I finish CAOS and I miss Kyungsoo. And I have Roh Kisoo feelings so yeah this happened, my first scenarios with EXO. And I totally wrote this listening to ‘’Say Something’’ by A Great Big World 90% of the time.

Word count : 5k

Rain was heavily falling that night, and your familiar, a black cat sitting next to you purring. Life as 24 year old witch in Seoul, but still a single 24 year old, life wasn’t that boring it was just that people were always asking you to introduce them to your boyfriend.. Hell who needs a boyfriend when their cousin is the king of Hell, or when your family is the known as the most powerful witches in this damn country ?

The smoke of your tea was long gone as the liquid turned cold, but a burnt smell came to your nostrils .. Park Chanyeol, the king of the under and your cousin.

‘’Hello cousin.

For the love of Satan, Chanyeol!’’ He laughed and take the place right next to you, taking off his crown. ‘’Hell is hella boring without you’’ he sighed.

The only thing you wanted to answer him was how earth was also a boring playground without him, and how Junmyeon wasn’t helping cause he probably was busy running the Academy of Unseen Arts.

You sighed, humans weren’t funny, working wasn’t funny, and plus your feet hurt, from working in Minseok’s small cafe. ‘’You’re a real drama queen Y/N’’ Said Chanyeol before readjusting his black oversized opened dress shirt. ‘’Go to a club, find a cute or bad boy looking guy and have some fun’’ He said picking up his bloody crown.

You couldn’t believe it, even your cousin was asking you to get .. well for the moment a one night stand, but still asking you to find a ‘someone’ ..

‘’Uh and before I forget honey, you may be a witch but black isn’t our only option here’ He disappeared before you could kill him or throw a pillow to his face.’’ -Unbelievable, was all you said after his exit.

You scanned your shelves full of spell books, ‘dark magic : a witchy way with demons’, other books about demons and others creatures you had to deal with, a big brown book caught your eyes and you smirk taking it in your hands. ‘’Boyfriend, here we meet’’ your cat meow looking at you ‘’I know buddy, but everyone says I should have someone so ..’’

To be real witches and wizards are known to have sex demons, and huge sexual orgies from time to time .. seriously what is the problem with witches and sex ?

Oh yeah Lilith was !

You find yourself in the bathroom that night, sculpting your future boyfriend in the wax of a few red candles. abs ? Check ! Cute looking butt ? Check ! Good look ? Check. Nice ?Also check !

‘’Let the doll sit in hot water for one to two days and your lover will be yours’’ you read out of the book.

The bathtub was full and ready, and your were casting the spell asking yourself the hell you were doing.

You clearly fell asleep, waiting to your full tub to see if anything would change .. but nope nothing really changed except the size of the wax doll, which was now a lot larger and not much looking like wax. Work was starting for another few hours but someone was ringing at your door at 9am. And the same someone didn’t wait for you to entered your apartment.

‘’Y/N? We know you’re here, the cat told us.’’ Aunties !

You exited your bathroom closing your door, they didn’t need to see your future love spell laying in hot water with rose petals !

‘’Aunties hi!’’ They both looked at you as if you were insane, well you totally looked like at the moment, your oversized black shirt, and dried mascara under your eyes !

‘’What are you doing ?’’

I’m creating my own boyfriend, cause people I work with, or I’m friend with ask me about my love life 24/7 .. nah you shouldn’t say that to your aunts or else they’ll kill you ..

‘’Nothing Aunt Zee ! I just need coffee cause I .. I .. Yeah coffee !’’

Both of your aunts looked at each other, but not in the suspicious way you tried to avoid, thanks Dark Lord ! ‘’Your cousin, ..’’ Aunt H started but you clearly were not listening to them. Looking at you bathroom door asking yourself a lot of question, does he has a name or you had to give him one ?

‘’Aunties, if you create someone out of .. never mind’’ you stopped yourself, they didn’t need to suspect you and your future « man »?

And the fact you wanted them out of here .. fast ! No need for them to see a stranger getting out of one of your rooms probably naked and confused !

You were bored to wait for anything to happen, and plus you received a text.

JUNMYEON:

You small witch, don’t forget about the Coven party in 2 days.

If you’re not here, I’ll kill u under the full moon babe xox

What a best friend ! You once again totally forgot about this little Coven thing at Minseok cafe he was hosting with Baekhyun.

Witches parties were always too much, even more if Byun Baekhyun was the one throwing the said party. Going back to the 50s (like literally), ghosts ..

To be honest you wanted your Saturday night to be a rerun of « Sabrina, the teenage witch » under a plaid on your couch with pizza, beer and tteokbokki, not a extravagant party with all your Coven.

BAEKHYUNIE:

Get ready for the night of your witchy spicy life, cause your god fairy mother (me!!)

got some friend who are single & ready to mingle !

YOU:

Baek, no more weird goblin or any magical creatures !

Plus you are late I’ve a date !

His only response was a few shocked emojis, and a few seconds later another text : I’m behind your door with food !

But Baekhyun, being Baekhyun he didn’t ring the bell and come into your home with a huge goofy smile on his lips.

‘’Don’t look at me like that, I’ve got your fav’’

Why everybody was coming to visit you today ? Normally your apartment was cozy and calm .. but not today ! For Satan’s love !

Baekhyun was one of your closest friend, but also a dark fairy and Chanyeol’s right arm.

And fairies loves to party way too much, it was in their personality ! But the cutest thing was his pointy ears.

‘’ So, my lil friend got herself a date ?’’

And fairy were all about gossips! You simply smiled and nodded at your friend. No need to say too much !

‘’Sooo ..’’ You tried to start another conversation ‘’ How is hell today ?’’

He lifted one of his eyebrow ‘’ Yeol was here last night, don’t try to escape my questions woman’’

Maybe you should have stuff your mouth with rice and onions !

Your fairy friend talked and talked, asking you a few questions about your date for the party. You nodded and made a few ‘’oh!’’ ‘’mhmm’’ but must importantly you were eating and trying to avoid his questions.

Until that one moment when Baekhyun suddenly stopped talking, and was looking behind you his mouth wide open.

‘’Sorry babe, I was a bit long’’

Babe ? You turned in your sit and your eyes dropped to a towel, one of your black towel hanging low on some hips, well defined hips to say, and as your eyes were going up to see who that was, you followed a happy trail, your mouth watered at the sight, happy trail being one of your weakness in a man. After his define stomach and sun kissed glowing skin. His heart shaped lips looked so kissable and full, his dark eyes hided behind tick black frame of glasses. God he was beautiful, more than that to be honest, his voice sounded like honey to your ears, his cute hand slowly scratching the back of his head. You watched a few drop of water running on his chest.

Next you saw a lot of beauty marks on his naked skin, a galaxy of beauty marks. The man got you hypnotized with one sentence, this spell was something !

‘’Hey, you must be Baekhyun ! Y/N told me about you’’ you were drinking his every words just like Baekhyun was. ‘’I’m Do Kyungsoo’’

Dark lord even his name sounded so heavenly (damn for a dark lord follower, you think a lot about heaven right now), after his introduction he excused himself to get dress.

‘’Is this your date ?’’ Murmured Baekhyun with too much excitement ‘’Damn girl you just hit the lotto !’’

Your first few days with Kyungsoo was surprisingly good, he already known a lot about you. Because to created him you dropped some drops of blood in the potion.

You asked silly questions to Kyungsoo, just to get to know him better: ‘’Bubble tea or Iced coffee ?’’ sure he was your creation but he still has his own personality. Your afternoon been filled with laughs, his hand in your hair, under your shirt, and finally you naked on top of him. His hands on your hips left some marks just like his plump lips and teeth drew love bites on your collarbone and others behind your ear. Your long black nails left marks on his back from the pleasure .. hell this man gonna be the end of your sanity !

‘’I’m glad you bring me to life’’ his arm was wrapped around your waist, and his lips continued their way in the back on your neck. You never expect anything with this incantation, you never expect the perfect man to came to life in your bathtub but here you were laying under your sheet naked, with Kyungsoo showing his love to you. Drawing abstract shapes on your skin, following your own moles creating a galaxy with his fingers.

Your friends and family were totally shocked to see him next to you, the Saturday night at the Coven party.

Even your aunt fell under his spell, and Chanyeol almost gave him his throne. Kyungsoo always had an answer to every questions about your relationship, his hand never left your side that night, or you find his lips on your cheek every other times.

Do Kyungsoo might be the result of your spell, but you totally were under his.

Days with Kyungsoo were sweet, full of adventures and funny. Sex was insanely good, (yes might be a witch thing but thanks Lilith) the feeling of his hand tracing your body, or even his lips on your skin. Or just his eyes on you were making you feel like the most wanted woman on the earth, Kyungsoo has his ways.

His moles were your favorite thing to kiss after his pillowy lips, but the must was the little mole on his top lip. And for Kyungsoo his lips found their home right under your breast, on ink saying ‘Witch’ he always said your tattoo was full of sarcasm.

Were you suppose to fall to your own creation ?

Your cat was laying on your bed, his head in Kyungsoo’s hand as his was caressing him. You watched him laying underneath your sheet, his chest on full display as your bedding was on his hips hiding a bit of his nakedness. ‘’You know I think he quite like you’’ you said to him ‘’Yeah he is purring, and I like him too .. he is like a part of you’’

You smiled looking at them, the sun was hitting Kyungsoo’s skin in all the right place making you craving him again, on the spot. His skin against yours, his finger interlaced with yours, his low groans .. he was hotter than hell.

Your black familiar exited the room as soon as you found a place on your mattress. ‘’You look cute with my shirt on’’ his hands traveled under the cotton of the shirt, tracing the shape of your chest. He smelled so nice just like lavender and woodland (a/n: if you ever smelled ‘autumn night’ by yankee candle this is the smell I’m talking about), everything about him was comforting, cozy and making you feel somehow safe. His lips right underneath your left ear, his right hand playing with the side of your black laced panty.

He was addicting just like a drug, now he was in your life you couldn’t imagine not having him anymore. Kyungsoo became a part of you, like a missing piece of puzzle and thanks to magic you finally completed the puzzle.

The way he made you feel was crazy, almost too crazy to be real. His breath hitting your neck made you moan even more than his hands running your body, and his length hitting every spots.

Days were brighter than before, spring was almost there cherry blossom were about to bloom, just like you now. And the night getting warmer but for once your bed felt empty and kind of cold without the raven haired boy sleeping next to you.

‘’Y/N ! ARE YOU ISANE ????’’

You woke up to Chanyeol screaming and tearing off his black hair. ‘’Yeol it’s 3 am, the fuck you want now ?’’ You asked, ready to kill him.

‘’Do Kyungsoo ? Huh ?? More like Roh Kisoo ! I can’t believe you invoke a freaking ghost to pretend to be your fucking fuck buddy’’

What ? A ghost ? Fuck buddy ? You were lost, totally lost and you cousin still panicked in front of your bed. ‘’ A ghost, what ? Who’s a ghost ?’’ He sighed loudly. ‘’Cousin, the aunties will legit kill you’’

Your only question was ‘who the fuck is Roh Kisoo ?’ He sighed once again before showing a beige folder (there’s folder in hell ? Anyway that is not the question)

‘’Cousin, he is dead, Do Kyungsoo isn’t real his name was Roh Kisoo, North Korean soldier. He used to tap dance, he was killed because he was about to kill an American soldier on stage’’

You couldn’t believe what Chanyeol was telling you .. you did not invoke a dead soldier, you created him out of wax. ‘’Chanyeol .. I created him. I do not fuck with dead’’

He stopped all his talking to look at you, dead in the eyes (no joke here). Your knees were against your chest as you sit on your mattress, ‘’He lied to me’’ you said softly. Your eyes filled with tears, you couldn’t believe you fell in love with your creation but he seemed so human, probably too human you were now thinking .. cause he been alive once.

Chanyeol wrapped his arms around you, even the king of hell could not bear to see his cousin and best friend crying. ‘’Love, do-does his heart beat ?’’ You looked up at him not really understanding why would it change if his heart was beating or not ? ‘’ If his heart beat, it means two things .. one he has feeling for you and second h-he .. he would become human, 100% human once again and believe his past life is just a dream .. Well his memories of the war and all being a dream’’

‘’And y/n..’’ He started again ‘’ you were in his past life .. his lover actually even if he never confessed or anything to you he loved you as Roh Kisoo .. that’s why he came to you as you created him’’

He put his hands on your eyes, and suddenly flashes of images, of him with shaved hair, kaki clothes, tap dancing, working on things, him stealing a kiss, stealing one of your kiss I the board of daylight, your death with two others persons you didn’t know and finally his own death.

The perk of being the king of hell was having ‘infos’ about people’s previous lives, and Chanyeol was shoving you Kyungsoo past life.

After your cousin exit, you didn’t sleep that night. You felt so small at the time watching the night lights by your window, thinking about everything that happened for the last two months of your life.. getting him, feeling happy and in love (a thing you never felt or lived before), how were you supposed to say all these things to Kyungsoo ?

Were you supposed to giving him up ? Send him back (yeah but were ?) ? Make him human ?

That morning Junmyeon made fun of you ‘looking like a panda’.

‘’ Y/N ?’’ He been calling your name for the last five minutes but your mind was anywhere but in Minseok’s cafe, jumping from memories to memories you created for the last 2 months.

The light was hitting your living room, a cup of coffee in your hand as you sit on your couch right next to Kyungsoo who was reading one your book. At the time everything felt right, as you were looking at him forgetting your cup in your hands, trying to find a single thing on him that was wrong .. but nothing was wrong.

‘’You know, I’ll not disappear love’’ you chuckled at his words, fearing that yes someday he’ll be gone.

His hand find it place on your knee, and his lips on your temple was comforting you and made you blush as a teenager.

At the time everything was simpler, you needed help .. but from who ?

You couldn’t bear to see Kyungsoo, not knowing how you’ll react in front of him, what to tell him, would you kiss him ? Let him make love to you ? Slap him ? Fall apart ? Break his heart ? (you didn’t know if his heart was beating .. if he was human or just the memory of his past life in wax)

YOU:

We need to talk aunties.

You were adult and you needed to face your mistakes, and you were finally doing it. The drive to your aunt’s was the longest it ever was and you felt heavy.

You spent a long time sitting in your car before entering the house, feeling a lot of shame, heartbroken, facing your mistake was harder than expected.

The second you saw your aunts you couldn’t keep your feelings together and start crying.

‘’ Chanyeol told us Y/N and even if your aunt wanted to scold you .. it’s not right to do now’’ started one of your aunt.

Aunt Zee was smoking but not saying anything, you knew she was disappointed. You felt totally out of place if you teleport yourself in a volcano you would to it right away.

‘’ I suppose Chanyeol explain you, the two options you have ?’’ Was Aunt Zee first worlds, you nodded.

‘’ If his heart beat or not, I could send him back or I can make him human.. ’’ your were stop by Aunt H ‘’ If you make him human, you know he’ll not remember you and what you both lived’’

Hearing that broke your heart even more, he couldn’t forget you if wasn’t right.

‘’ But he will kind of stay connected to you, as he has a part of you being your magic. So he is and will be a wizard.’’ Said your second aunt.

All you needed was time, a thing you didn’t have. One last time with him before choosing send him back or making him human and forget everything about you.

‘’But most important if his heart is beating, your trace will forever haunt him. Without him know why and who you are, love’’ said Aunt H, caressing your arm as comfort.

‘’ I can’t kill him’’

Yours aunties listened to you, telling them why and how to ‘created’ him, how happy he was making you, how human he seemed and now you knew why .. you told them everything, even wishing you had a last night with him.

Aunt Zee granted your wish, but tomorrow morning you had to say goodbye to love.

You never expected finding him dressed in his favorite black jumper and his ripped bleu jeans cooking in your kitchen with a glass full of white wine waiting for you next to his.

Your eyes filled with tears when his scent hit you, your head on his chest. ‘’ Let’s stay like this for a moment, please’’ you didn’t want him to see you like that.

The smile dancing on his lips broke you inside one more time, he looked so innocent in front of you, not knowing, almost like a child.

‘’You know babe, tonight there’s a shower of shooting stars let’s watch it’’ Yixing told him, even if he never met the Chinese wizard in real like they met on FaceTime, your friend was crazy when Baekhyun, once mentioned you had someone.

You simply nodded, even of shooting stars couldn’t help you this time.

The time moved so fast as if it was teasing you, your eyes never left Kyungsoo, too afraid to forgot him or to miss a beauty mark or the way his eyes were when he was smiling, looking at you.

Looking at him was the hardest thing you had ever done that night, you were giving up on him and you couldn’t say anything.

The view from the balcony of your appartement was incredible but the only thing you watched was him not the stars traveling the dark sky.

Even the moon seems ridiculous next to him, his glasses sat on his nose and his hair was a bit longer, his fringe hitting the frame of the glasses softly.

He turned his head to look at you, his hand caressed your cheek and his lips collided on yours, his kiss was full of passion, slow. Time stopped when his lips met yours, and you felt his heart pounded underneath your hand.

His heart was beating ..

‘’ .. I love you’’ His eyes were still closed and his lips still so closed to yours, and his thumb caressing your face.

Once again his lips crashed on yours, more intense this time. Yours hands holding the material of his jumper. ‘’Don’t ever forget about me’’ you whisper. His fingers slipped under the coton of your shirt, he pulled you even closer to him, as if no one else in the world existed. ‘’Never’’ you knew his answer was a lie but you needed it.

The time actually stopped at that moment the last time he made love to you, the stars and clouds were not moving and no sounds were heard, a spell to stop time was dangerous and only a powerful witch could to do but at the time it was your last priority.

It was the softest Kyungsoo ever showed you the way he loved you, he was taking his time with you that night as if he knew it was surely the last time. Looking at you his eyes were full of stars and his hands felt like velvet on your skin.

That night you refused to fall asleep, your head stayed on his chest listening to his heartbeat, his words playing over and over in your head, the way he confessed on that night was the hardest to accepted to you.

CHANYEOL:

I’m sorry cousin,

I tried to give a little bit more with him.

He make you happy I know.

You left your bed after reading the text to finally cried yourself to sleep in your bathroom, your hand on your mouth trying to muffled the sound.

The floor was freezing when you woke up, everything felt freezing in your house, in your body. Once you remembered, tears were running your cheeks and this time you didn’t shut yourself and screamed in agony.

He was gone.

He was gone and you were alone.

The first week was the hardest, you didn’t left your room and the last piece of him that was the shirt you wore that night.

The tissue did not smelled like him anymore.

Every day, every hour you were waiting for him to open your door arms full of bags from the grocery store ready to cook you something.

Chanyeol, yours aunts, Yixing, everyone tried to contact you, but you never answered them.

Every night Chanyeol wait for you to sleep and came, he was feeling guilty and you were his best friend. Every night he did the same, he tucked you and stroked your hair. Hoping one day you would be able to find peace with yourself, but that wasn’t the only thing on his plan !

You sat at your kitchen bar, you computer in front of you but all you did was staring at your window, your chin resting in your left hand.

You didn’t even watch Chanyeol sitting right in front of you searching something in one of his books. ‘’Cousin, aren’t you suppose to do mails stuff ?’’

‘’Chanyeol, aren’t you suppose to do king of hell stuffs?’’ Your sarcasm did in fact burn like hell !

‘’You know I became the king of underworld, so you selfishly could stay on earth and do selfish human things as the bratty witch you are’’

Why was Chanyeol even here at this point ? He wasn’t wrong, to be honest. All you did for the last few days was crying, sleeping, and being a brat to everyone who tried to help you what so ever.

‘’Cousin, life have so much to offer’’

‘’Fake, life sucks and I feel so done with it’’ He sighed loudly, feeling done with you.

Ignoring yours friends, cousin, aunts was purely selfish and you knew it but at this point you clearly didn’t give a damn .. but at the same time it was your fault and only your fault, if you didn’t use this spell, just to shut people and their needs to talk about your life.

It’s been 3 weeks, the first been the miserable one, the two second mark the start of the ‘new you’.

You were purely self-destructive at this point, losing Kyungsoo hurt you but what you did to yourself was worst. Invoking sex demons, trying spell to not feel anything, everything was good to ‘make you forget’.

‘’You know Sehun, fuck Satan and all that witchy shit’’

You were clearly drunk, and Sehun knew he shouldn’t give you anymore drinks but his pub had the best reputation with the witch population of Seoul, you lost the count of drinks you already drank.

‘’ You probably should go at home and sleep Y/N, I dont need the king of Hell to come and kill me’’

‘’Chanyeol ? He can kiss my ass ! Y’all can kiss my ass’’ your drunk behavior wasn’t a pretty sight.

After that Sehun didn’t understand a word you said, you were half crying, half mumbling. Poor bartender did not has the choice but to call Chanyeol to have an explanation and to get you back at your apartment.

‘’ Y/N you can’t live your life off ‘not feeling anything’ spells’’

Cold water woke you up, you stood in you shower fully clothed and your cousin holding the shower head.

‘’Why the hell are you doin’ that ?’’

‘’You asshole, needed a wake up call’’

Chanyeol was tired of seeing you being a danger to yourself, and decided enough was enough.

The heavy weight on your shoulders dropped suddenly and you body followed dropping in your cousin’s arms. ‘’ I just miss him so much Yeol’’

He watched tears rolling on your cheeks, not saying anything but his hand caressing your back.

Even if lives are connected Chanyeol couldn’t guarantee Kyungsoo’s comeback, your two souls might be connected since the beginning but the way they forced Kyungsoo into his human form couldn’t guarantee anything about their futur or life together. But he couldn’t tell you all that, like he couldn’t say he was following the man everyday.

And that you left your mark on him, he was now a wizard.

‘’ I’m here Y/N you can sleep’’

He laid you down on your bed, caressing your hair and projecting dreams in your head to give you a break, Chanyeol was the king of Hell, but he was hurt seeing his best friend and cousin living like that, he was ready to fight anyone so you could be happy again and to see you eyes full of stars just like when you were looking at Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol always knew that Kyungsoo’s heart was beating he felt it the first time he met him. And right after that he started his search about the man.

After that night you practically lived in the academy, teaching younger witches just like your aunts wanted. Reading books to perfect your magic. ‘’You know since you came to the academy everything seems simpler’’ Said your colleague Jongdae ‘’ Kids seems to like having one of the most powerful witch of the century teaching them stuffs’’ You nodded.

‘’Sorry Jongdae but I’m taking my cousin out for lunch’’

Chanyeol took you to Chinatown, celebrating one of his friend opening his own restaurant .. who were you to say no to free food ?

Lunch was nice, a private room for the two of you and all the best food on the menu. ‘’So the academy ?’’

‘’It’s good, kids are funny .. Yeol did you .. like killed someone for this guy ?’’

He laughed a bit too much ‘’ Not, it’s a guy a met not long ago and we became friends .. he is like us ‘magic’ he’ll come to see us’’

You nodded, finishing you plate and drinking a bit of the Chinese whisky that was left in your cup.

Chanyeol left you to go the to toilet, what type of cousin is he ? He need to go to the toilet when his friend was supposed to met the two of you ? Asshole !

The door opened and your phone vibrated at the same time a text from you cousin, why was he sending you a text when coming back in the private room ?

CHANYEOL:

I find him for you ..

Who did he find for you ?

‘’Chanyeol ?’’ You knew the voice, you once again felt the time stop when you turned around finding .. Do Kyungsoo in a chef attire.

Do Kyungsoo was the friend of Chanyeol, the one he wanted you to meet ..

‘’You are ?’’ Right he forgot about you. ‘’Oh yeah you’re Y/N .. Chanyeol told me a lot about you and you’re like the most powerful in our coven’’

A single tear rolled onto your cheek, you find him .. he was in front of you.

You finally find him, thanks to Chanyeol.

[sergeantsporks]

Hey could you do Hunter getting getting injuries treated at the owl house? Like some hurt/comfort. If you want to write a non compliant Hunter that’s be really cool but thanks so much! I just love your owl house fics 🦉🪶

<3 Thank you!

Hunter yawned, the tip of his staff dipping through the air. He pulled himself back up. Just a little further until Bonesborough, and then he could make a pit stop, take a little nap, or at least grab some coffee. He rubbed his eyes. Okay, so maybe he should stop taking quite so many missions. But since he’d returned with the titan’s blood, Belos had been so pleased, and he wanted to keep that going, and obviously there wasn’t anything huge he could do, but if he kept taking all of the little missions, that would probably keep him in a good spot, right?

Hunter shook himself as he started to drift off again. “Bad,” he scolded himself, “Stay awake.”

He heard the sound of wingbeats behind him, and he twisted back. A griffin. Great.

Hunter dove to avoid the bird, but it chased him, shrieking. Probably a new mother. Well, he didn’t intend on being baby food.

Hunter swooped and swerved to the side, just barely dodging a swipe of claws.

If he’d just been a little more alert and less sleepy, he probably would have been able to see and avoid the tailstrike.

As it was, the griffin’s tail caught him right in the chest, knocking him off of his staff.

Hunter screamed as he tumbled through the air, clawing for his staff. His palisman fluttered out of his pocket, grabbing the back of his tunic in its claws and frantically flapping its wings.

It didn’t help much.

He slammed into the top branch of a tree, all of the air leaving his lungs with a whoof as the tree branch cracked under the force of his fall. The world blacked out.

When Hunter came to, it was because everything hurt too much for him to stay out. He groaned. His head felt dizzy, light, and everything ached—but especially his left leg, which throbbed painfully.

Hunter managed to pry his eyes open to see the ground, still far below, his staff too far beyond his reach, and his palisman lying dazed a few branches below.

“Ah!”

Hunter twisted to look up, biting his lip as the movement made his whole body scream in protest. He was hanging upside-down, his left foot caught between two branches. Hunter’s stomach heaved. Feet were… not supposed to bend that way.

Hunter strained to pull himself up and grab the next branch, but the shift made a wave of pain sweep up from his broken foot, and his vision went spotty.

Hunter relaxed, breathing heavily. Okay. This was… this was fine. He could get out of this.

Somehow.

Xxx

“Going to the library for some books, bye, Eda!”

“Uh-huh, yeah, books, sure, say hi to bossy-boots for me.”

Luz raced out the door and down the path, humming to herself. She tripped over a stick, and stumbled forward a few steps, looking back.

Wait.

Luz scooped up the coven staff she’d tripped on, glancing around. “Where…”

A rustle in the trees made her look up to see a very familiar white cloak and golden mask in the trees. Hunter was stuck upside down, and she suppressed a snicker.

“Need some help up there?”

“No! Go away, I’m fine!”

Luz tucked the staff in her belt, climbing up the tree and sitting on a branch next to him, scooping up Lil Rascal on the way. The trail of broken branches above Hunter indicated a pretty long fall. “Uh-huh.” She tugged off his helmet. “Can you even see out of this thing?”

Hunter swiped at her, and then yelped. “Ow! Go away! I don’t need your help!”

Luz examined the branch his foot was caught in. Oh, ow, that looked painful. “Hang on, I got this.”

She slapped a little plant glyph on the tree, and it responded to her, forming a little shelf underneath Hunter. Luz snapped the branch his foot was caught in, and he fell with a little oof to the tree shelf she’d made. Luz climbed down below him, taping a fire glyph to the bottom of the shelf and breaking the shelf, hitting the fire glyph so that it slowly lowered him to the ground.

“I said I didn’t need your help!”

Luz swung down next to him. “You’re welcome.” She held out his staff. “Hey. I know you’re mister independent or whatever, but the Owl House is literally right down the road, and you’re never going to make it back to the keep on your own, so why don’t you just come home with me, and we’ll fix your foot?”

Hunter snatched the staff back, struggling up to his feet and leaning on the staff, keeping his wounded foot up. He looked awful—besides the obvious foot problem, the dark circles under his eyes were so dark they looked like bruises, and his knuckles were white on his staff. “I said I’m fine. I jussssst… need to get to… town.”

He managed to hobble a couple of steps before he fell again, yelping.

“Wow. That’s just sad.” Luz hauled him up, slinging one of his arms around her shoulders and turning around. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”

“I doooooon’t… need…”

Hunter struggled weakly against her, but then gave up, going limp, his eyes sliding shut. Luz dragged him along. “Whoof—hey—wake up, you’re heavy!”

Lil Rascal cheeped in her pocket, flapping out and shifting into its staff form, hovering so that Luz could sit Hunter on top of it.

“Trrrrrraitorrrrr,” Hunter slurred, his eyes open just a crack.

Luz pushed him back towards the owl house, pushing open the door with her foot.

“HEY EDA!” she called, “CHANGE OF PLANS FOR TODAY!”

Xxx

Ow. Ow. Ow.

Why did everything have to hurt so much?!

Hunter opened his eyes, staring up at a ceiling.

Wait.

Where was he? He glanced down, the familiar weight of his armor gone. Replaced by a T-shirt that said ‘bad girl coven’ on it

“OOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooo, you’re awaaaaaake!”

Hunter yelped, punching the weird bird face. “Augh!”

The bird… worm… thing… drew back. “Ow! Geeeeeeze.”

Hunter sat up so fast he nearly blacked out again. His foot was stuck in a heavy cast, healing patches on it. “Where—oh, no-!” he swung his legs over the side of the couch. “I can’t—I can’t be here, I—”

Xxx

Luz came thumping down the stairs with more healing patches in time to see Hunter try to get up, and then immediately fall back with a groan.

“Ow—ow—ow—ow—”

Luz poked her head over the couch. “Hello!”

Hunter groaned. “Just kill me now.”

Eda stuck her head out of the kitchen, where she was cooking up more explosive potions. “Did I hear that we’re killing the nerd?”

“We’re not killing anyone.” Luz smacked a healing patch on Hunter’s forehead. “Pain patch!”

He tried to get up again, then hissed, sinking back. “I—ow—I can’t—”

“Your foot is broken, Hunter, you can’t go anywhere.” Luz put another patch on his face. “There. That should make it stop hurting.”

Eda snorted. “You know too many of those have a sedative effect, right? They use sleeping nettles to make them.”

Luz twisted back to look at her. “Whoa, really?”

Eda nodded. “See for yourself.”

Luz looked back down at Hunter, whose eyes were already drifting shut. He yawned, glaring at her. “What did… you…”

“Heh. Whoops. Sorry.” Luz squinted at him. “When was the last time you slept, anyway?”

“I don’t—couple of days, I don’t know.”

Luz slapped another pain patch on him. “I take my apology back, GO TO SLEEP!”

Xxx

“Aw, look at him.” Eda poked a sleeping Hunter in the face. “Y’know, he’s actually kind of adorable when he’s not trying to kill us.”

Luz peeled off one of the old healing patches that had lost its magic, applying a new one. “He can be nice. He needs a friend.”

Eda snorted. “Luz, he’s a coven member. I’m sure he has plenty of friends back with all the other Belos-ites.”

“I don’t think he does.” Luz sat on the arm of the couch. “He seemed kind of lonely, like he has no one to talk to. I mean, he’s the head of the coven—who’s he going to talk to that isn’t treating him like their boss?”

“Whoa, hey, there, Luz. He’s fun right now, when he can’t move, but don’t forget that he’s dangerous—he beat the two of us pretty handily, held his own against Kikimora, and Amity just barely got out of her fight with him, and that was when he was stressed out of his mind. I’m not saying he can’t be nice, or that he isn’t lonely, but just… watch your step, okay?”

Luz nodded. “I’ll be careful, Eda, I promise.”

Her mentor gave her a thumbs-up and ran back to the kitchen as smoke billowed from the door. Luz spun Hunter’s helmet in her hands, slipping it on. “Ugh. How does he wear this thing all of the time?” She tugged it back off, setting it down.

“Dooooon’t touch that.”

Luz jumped. Hunter was watching her through bleary, half-closed eyes. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey yourself,” he mumbled crossly, “Why can’t I move?”

Luz winced. “I miiiiiiiight have put a few too many pain patches on you. But you were really hurting!” She poked his shoulder. “Can you feel that?”

“Quit that!”

Luz stuck her tongue out at him. “Eh. Hey, did you know that half of your ribs are broken?” I think your armor probably protected you a little bit, but how high did you fall from?”

He blinked sluggishly. “I don’t know—high.”

“Man.” Luz fidgeted. “Hey, uh, Hunter? Where’d all of those scars come from?”

Hunter closed his eyes again.

“Hey! I know you’re not asleep, Hunter!”

He opened his eyes just a little bit. “They were accidents,” he grumbled, “Satisfied?”

“Accidents?”

“Yeah. Accidents.”

“Even the claw one? What was that an accident of, accidentally antagonizing a bear?”

He closed his eyes again. “Something like that.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over them, and Luz sighed. “Okay. Hey. I’m sorry. I won’t poke into your personal life anymore.”

He opened one eye. “Really?”

“No,” Luz admitted, “I’m totally going to keep poking into your personal life. But… you don’t have to answer. If you really don’t want to. Oh, hey, you thought the glyph combos were cool, wanna see my new one? Of course you do.”

Luz scribbled down a plant and fire glyph in a circle combo and squeezed it in her hand. A whip made out of fire stretched out, and she cracked it. “Neat, huh!”

“You just lit the floor on fire.”

Luz yelped, stomping on the fire. “Go out, go out, go out!”

Xxx

Hunter snorted, watching Luz struggle to put the fire out, then winced as the snort made his ribs ache. The pain patches must be wearing off.

Luz put out the fire and started chattering about how the glyph combos worked, and how folding origami could make the coolest things.

Hunter drifted off again, still groggy from the patches (and yes, okay, fine, from the all-nighters, too). When he opened his eyes again, it was dark. One single ball of light floated in the middle of the room, sending off a dim nightlight.

Night?!

Oh—he was so late—he would be in so much trouble—maybe he could pretend he was still out doing missions?

Hunter started to sit up, then fell back with a groan. Ow, his ribs.

His palisman chirped sleepily, untucking its head from its wing to blink at him. Someone—probably Luz—had propped his broken foot up with pillows and given him a blanket.

I need… to go back…

But it was warm and comfortable here, and he couldn’t move anyway, and his foot wasn't going to be better for a while, and his eyes were already drifting shut.

But maybe… maybe I can stay a little longer.

[willowbird]

For the prompt thing: Andrew/Neil, trope: sickness/injury, location: violently orange yacht. Have fun! Thanks =)

Ooh definitely!

Since no AU was specified I made it kinda intentionally ambiguous.

Also, so you know, I 100% sat down to write this as a cutesy seasick/comfort w/teasing sorta fic. Then, idk, i got a lil bloodthirsty. Just a little bit, though.

Warning for mentions of blood.

---

"Are you really going to hide down here for the whole time?" Kevin's voice was both tired and annoyed, and just for that Andrew didn't even bother to acknowledge his presence, let alone his words.

Instead, he pointedly turned the page in his book as if there was no one about to bother him at all. They had been out on the water for a whole six hours. Andrew had watched the shoreline get smaller and smaller as they pulled away and when it was just a fine sketch of a line along the horizon he'd gone investigating. Which was how he'd found this hidden little nook in the storage hull or whatever the big room of supplies was in the belly of the boat.

The monstrosity was technically a yacht. Which, by definition, is a pleasure liner - a boat intended for entertainment. This "yacht" was big enough to not only carry but fully house and supply a contingent of college athletes. It was suspiciously fortified and had enough supplies stockpiled away that Andrew was beginning to wonder if he hadn't been kidnapped because it seemed just a little bit excessive for a "weekend away".

Personally, he didn't think his problems were going to go away or even be at all eased by an attempted escape via ugly boat. But he wasn't the only one with those problems. He wasn't the only one hurting. And after almost a year... well, he would grudgingly tag along, but he didn't have to participate.

The damn thing was also the most grotesque shade of claw-your-eyes-out dayglow orange that Andrew had ever seen. Which honestly was one of the reasons he'd already gone inside, as of by hiding in the deepest, darkest corner of the vessel he'd save himself a migraine.

"And Andrew? The Lady Fox has luxury suites for each of us. You can't even hide in your room? You choose to come... here?" Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw Kevin give his choice of hideaways a disparaging look.

Without taking his eyes from the page, Andrew lifted one hand and offered Kevin his one-fingered opinion.

The next thing he heard was Kevin's annoyed scoff, followed by his retreating footsteps. Satisfied, Andrew snuggled down a little bit deeper into the conveniently-placed hammock he'd found already strung up when he initially explored the place. The book he was reading had a bit of a slow start, but at least three of the side-characters were interesting enough to carry him through until the plot picked up.

Except, he only got two more pages along when he heard a sudden and quite ominous thump that was accompanied by a muffled groan. The book in his hand was instantly replaced with one of the knives he kept tucked in the armbands he was never without. Some people might call Andrew paranoid for bringing weapons onto a boat where he was surrounded only by close friends and family, with a literal ocean between them and harm. Those people would probably be dead right now, gutted in their sleep by a murderous stowaway. Or maybe that thump was one of his family, being murdered by the murderous stowaway.

Maybe it was Kevin.

That thought put a spike of fear in his heart, but right in its wake came a surge of deep rage.

No. He would not allow it. He had already lost... Enough had happened. He refused to let Kevin be hurt as well.

Andrew got out of the hammock as soundlessly and gracefully as possible, searching the shadows of the only half-lit cavernous space as he inched toward the source of the sound. He kept the blade poised to attack with one hand and pulled out his cell phone with the other. Two thumb-swipes later the had the flashlight enabled.

It wasn't Kevin. Nope. Definitely not Kevin.

Not-Kevin was crumpled in a heap in front of a stack of supply crates that it looked like he'd rolled off of, thus causing the thump Andrew had heard. The groan of pain, however, was clearly not from the fall. Or, well, not just from the fall.

"Who are you?" Andrew demanded, shining the light right on the person's face. They looked like a guy, probably. Short-ish hair and made up of more angles than curves - though it was really hard to tell more than that because the blood-soaked clothes were a little bit distracting.

The injured man(?) on the floor let out a choked, broken sound that Andrew belatedly realized was a laugh. It was so rasped and mangled, he'd almost thought the stowaway was about to launch into their death-throes. Judging by the bloodstains and way the person shook and swayed precariously while trying to push up to their hands and knees, that actually might not have been that far off a guess.

Then the stowaway, the person, the man, said, "Nothing."

Andrew froze. "What did you say?"

"You asked who I was," the man said, and Andrew was sure it was a man now. Moreover, the rough edges around his voice may have been tight with pain and possibly disuse, but even without Andrew's near-perfect memory he would have knows the sharp slashes of that voice anywhere.

The man looked up and in the white glow of Andrew's phone light there was no mistaking how immeasurably blue his eyes were. Like the sky painted from an artist's favorite memory. Like the hint of eternity in a crystal sphere.

Neil smiled. His face was dotted with dried blood and marked with new scars, but the expression still somehow turned the whole world on its head to make it a softer, warmer, safer place.

Andrew wasn't sure what hit the ground first, his phone, his knife, or his knees as he skidded to the floor beside Neil, reaching for him. "Neil... Neil. Fuck. The blood. It's yours? FUCK!" He was babbling, but his own voice was distant to his ears as he touched Neil for the first time in almost a year, as he gathered him close and searched for the source of all that blood.

Shaky hands reached for him and Andrew didn't even think about batting them away. He leaned into their touch even as he turned his face toward the stairs and raised his voice to a shout: "KEVIN! AARON! SOMEONE! NOW!"

"H-hey now, Andrew. Andrew, shh, it's okay. I'm okay, it's okay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never meant to be away this long."

"Shut up with your fucking 'sorry's Neil, I don't want your fucking 'sorry' - I want you here and alive and not dying in my goddamn arms I am NOT doing this with you, do you hear me junkie?"

Andrew felt like his entire system was in overdrive, his mind moving too fast and his nerve ending firing off in matching cylinders. They looked for Neil for months. And when they finally got a breakthrough via that fucking miserable twat Jean Moreau, it was only to find out that Neil was likely dead.

Those hands cupped his face, and even though they trembled against his cheeks he still touched Andrew like he was holding something incredibly precious. Something that needed care and protection lest it drop or be crushed.

"I promise, Drew. I did not drag myself halfway back around the world just to die in your arms."

"Do not even attempt to give me that, Neil. That is exactly the kind of dramatic shit you would do."

"Nah," Neil protested with a rough laugh. "Definitely more Aaron's thing. He's such a petty bitch."

"Fuck you," Andrew spat out, but a bubble of what might have bene a laugh caught in his chest. There were running footsteps coming their way, thundering down the steps and into the room.

"Andrew?! Andrew what-- oh my God. Oh my God. AARON GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" Kevin was still shouting as he came to land beside the two of them, and Andrew almost pulled another knife and stabbed him in the fucking eye as he reached for Neil.

In fact, he didn't even realize he had drawn a knife until Kevin jerked back so suddenly he fell on his ass.

"Jesus! Andrew it's just me. He is covered in blood he needs a hospital!"

"It's mostly not mine," Neil chimed in as Andrew struggled to rein in the half-crazed beast that had taken over the arm not holding Neil. The monster inside him was in fits, and its growl was rumbling in Andrew's throat - kept in check only by the slow stroking of Neil's fingers down his jaw.

"Mostly not yours," Kevin echoed, and even through the haze of Andrew's protective rage, he could hear how dumbfounded the other man was.

"Mhm. And I stitched myself up already."

"Stitched yourself up," said Kevin. Then he looked toward the stairs and bellowed: "AARON!"

Neil sighed and the exasperation in that sound was so fucking familiar that it knocked the beast far enough off its temper for Andrew to take control again. He took a slow breath, then another. When Neil looked up at him again, Andrew asked, "Why? How?"

Neil grimaced. The expression must have been painful, Andrew realized as he watched him - because now that he was really looking he could tell that those new scars on his face were less 'scars' and more 'barely healed torture wounds'.

All Neil said was, "It's a long story."

As Aaron finally came half-falling down the steps on wobbly sea-legs, Andrew decided he would leave it be - for now.

The important thing was that Neil was here, Neil was alive, and nothing - fucking nothing - was going to take him away again.

[theyapper0]

Amphibia season 1 rewatch + notes :)

So I just finished rewatching the ENTIRE season 1 of Amphibia and I have some notes on the episodes that stood out to me! There are some quick notes, a couple lengthy analyses and even some headcanons sprinkled in! It's like a written stew of season 1! I'll be doing a written Amphiba stew for season 2 too!!

It's kinda long so you could just skip this or hit the keep reading button and give it a read! 

S1: E2 Cane Crazy

Anne shows general disregard over other people's things

(Mimicking Hop Pop and breaking his cane, throwing all the wood carving things that Loggle made, even a coo coo clock that she even said was nice (And for him to say it took 20 years to make right after she broke it))

S1: E2 Flood, Sweat and Tears 

Anne would be the WORST during sleepovers and I LOVE IT!!! My girl is just being a tween, staying up late, playing would you rather and keeping everyone else up. I think that's ADORABLE and now I'm thinking about how sleepovers might've been back home with her, Sasha and Marcy… 

She also just stays up late in general?? She reads dumb magazines and eats CRUNCHY snacks. She is really just 13,,,

And it looks like Sprig does it too, not as much as Anne (probably because he is younger than her) but it seems like it has to be in his terms. Before, he looked to be annoyed with it when he was trying to sleep. But, if he was awake, like in the beginning or at the end of the episode, he had no problem staying up playing would you rather!!! 

S1: E3 Hop Luck 

Anne: Old things are dumb! 

And 

Anne:* violently GRABS Sprig and shoves him against the wall* don't you DARE talk about pineapple in my pizza… Ever…

Anne: 

Sprig: 

Anne: Okay! Let's go get these ingredients! 

HHHH ANNE!!! I love this funky little child SO MUCH!!! 

Hop Pop loves these kids so much that he was willing to put aside his old, traditional family recipes in exchange for making pizza with them. My heart is gonna explode I'm-

Anne please don't make your surrogate frog brother get married just to get some pizza dough I'M BEGGING YOU-

S1: E3 Stakeout 

Hop Pop: I'm a crisp 68!

Is Hop Pop actually 68 or does he mean more of 68 going on 80 68? Either way he looks great! 

Anne has Blam Berry Blitz ("the drink that punches you in the face and doesn't stop") in her bag along with all the OTHER stuff we already saw (air pump, toe nail clipper, pencils, cat toys, bath bombs, etc)

Anne is officially those friends that have EVERYTHING in their bag no matter what. 

I really like the relationship between Anne and Hop Pop, how they both in some way yearn for what was but in different ways (Anne wanting to go home and Hop Pop's olden ways when he was a little pollywog) but are still similar in how they try to remember. They try and try and try to keep what little family/friends they have safe and protected. They love the relationships they've formed with other people (And with each other) and would go great lengths to help and protect them!

Also I MAY be looking way too into it buuuut was Boulder-Tron (that rock dude that Polly hallucinated at the end) supposed to foreshadow Frobo??

S1: E4 Taking Charge 

Okay quick one, Anne nearly having a whole ass panic attack when her phone dies because she couldn't look at her photos or videos of home actually made me sad. This girl is only a CHILD and her entire home and everything is gone and she for real thought she couldn't ever get it back,,, 

Hop Pop: I mean, the part where the island itself is revealed to actually be…!

Sprig: No! 

Polly: Don't!

Anne: Spoilers 

I dunno why and again, I MIGHT BE LOOKING TOO DEEPLY INTO THIS, but maybe this is foreshadowing something with the land of Amphibia? That maybe there is more to this crazy land than we know? Maybe even a reason it, along with all the other universes even exists??? 

S1: E5 Breakout Star 

AHSBWJOA ONLY EPISODE 5 AND ANNE ALREADY HAS HER PHONE'S LOCK SCREEN OF THE PLANTER FAMILY I'M-

S1: E7 Dating Season 

Anne said that ⅔ of ALL soul mates start out as "just friends" 

…

I'm looking at you, team Sashannarcy 

S1: E7 Anne vs. Wild 

Hop Pop's behavior at the end of the episode when Anne finally shows them the calamity box is awfully sus…

He doesn't say anything but "may I?" To inspect the box and then is like "Nope, never seen it" I just feel like he knows something and then adding onto it with the whole burying it to protect his family just sounds like… he definitely knows something, maybe not a lot but there is something he's not telling the others 

Also, why would a book that HE has have information on the Calamity box?? 

(I fully support the Dr. P was a Planter and also possibly the pink frog who was friends with King Andrias theory)

S1: E10 Toad Tax 

At this point, Anne said that she has already been in Amphibia for over a month now. 

(And damn, Sasha's been in prison for like a month,,, yikes)

Also Hop Pop teaching Anne how to pay taxes is so adorable, she really is part of this family now guys,,,

And I love how Anne was able to win over the Wartwood people by being her natural, charming and not to mention caring self. Anne, like Marcy and Sasha, can be selfish because honestly what kid, especially a 13 year old, isn't. 

But what matters is that she always tries to make up for it. 

Yes she did join the arguably sketchy toads into getting the taxes from everyone in order to feel somewhat included in ANYTHING, but while she was doing it, she knew it was wrong. Anne knew it was wrong and tried to give back some of the stolen stuff. Hell, even at the end she risked her safety to protect people she felt didn't even LIKE her, like, Anne literally broke her arm from them because that's just how Anne is. 

S1: E10 Prison Break 

I always forget how like,,, SUPER cunning Sasha is. I mean, she was able to talk FIVE toads into quitting within a WEEK as a PRISONER. Like?? 

Grime: That's not a bird. It's a heron, a murderous predator that happens to love the taste of flesh 

Sasha: Cute 

The lines in this show I'M-

So Anne was a varsity tennis player and Sasha was a cheerleader and did Tai Chi. I still can't believe they were both jocks,,, 

(Well, Sasha I get but Anne? Sweet ol' lil baby with the lanky limbs Anne???) 

Hey um, why the FUCK does Grime have acid spit?

Sasha: *looking at photo of her, Anne, and Marcy* Hold on for a little longer, girls. I'm coming for you. And when I find you, we're gonna get home. But first, I think we're gonna have some fun with this place 

Okay so this line right here. Now I may not be even remotely correct but this line, this last piece of dialogue spoken by Sasha right before the episode ends leads me to believe that she… doesn't take this world seriously. 

At least not yet. 

I think the 3 girls all see Amphibia differently: Anne as more of an obstacle, a wall preventing her from being home, Marcy sees it as an escape from her life with constant stimuli, and Sasha, she sees it as just really another thing to control. Everyone and their mothers know that Sasha can be a little more than controlling and we all know that she liked being lieutenant just a little too much. 

This world is interesting to Sasha, not in the interesting that Anne sees it (who is interesting in the new people and the relationships she's formed) or Marcy (who is also interested in the relationships she's formed along with the thirst for knowledge and again, the constant stimuli in an environment where she isn't stifled and allowed to flourish). 

No, Sasha sees Amphibia as interesting because it gives her something to control. In a world that is not your own, a world that you will leave eventually, who would actually FOLLOW the rules put in place there? Especially a 13 year old who is basically like a war commander who, even if she does do something wrong or breaks a rule or two, the only person who might even dare to stop her is Grime, and even then, he might just encourage it because it is season 1 and they aren't that close and he doesn't really care for Sasha at this point. 

She also is actually very logical. Everything she does in Amphibia, all the morally questionable things she does, it is always for the same reason (or at least at first), to get her and her girls home. Wanting to sacrifice and kill Hop Pop at the end of season 1? Well The toads had promised if she helped, they'll help her find Marcy and bring the 3 of them home. She cares for Anne and Marcy SO MUCH that she is willing to go great lengths to help keep them safe. 

But even though Sasha didn't really care about anyone in Amphibia besides Anne and Marcy at first, it doesn't mean she won't ever. We see countless times throughout season 2 of Sasha caring. She feels regret with her impending betrayal on Anne and Marcy, she cares enough to try and warn Anne about King Andrias' evil plans. Hell, even in the season 3 intro we see her and Grime at Wartwood and it looks like they're gonna be starting another rebellion against the king to help all the amphibians in Amphibia. 

I just really like watching Sasha's appearance and knowing what will happen in the future with her character. 

S1: E13 Trip to the Archives 

Anne: I get this place. It's like a library from my world. Zoo books and manga, here I come! 

So whenever Anne goes to the library, presumably with Sasha and Marcy, she'd go straight to books on animals and manga probably while Marcy did whatever work they needed (if Anne's dialogue in season 2 with Marcy always doing the work for their group projects was anything to go off on)

I dunno, I think that's kinda cute that Anne liked reading books on animals and probably reading all the manga that Marcy recommended. 

Maybe Anne and Sasha would sit right next to each other while Marcy worked and read fun manga together and cackle with each other while Marcy tried SO HARD to concentrate and NOT infodump to them because she's read that specific manga 20 times and HAVE YOU GOTTEN TO THAT ONE PART WHERE THE MAIN CHARACTER GOES- 

S1: E15 Wally and Anne

MOSS MAN!! 

When Anne wakes up in the middle of the night and goes to grab Wally at town square, her hood is up and it's dark. The only thing we can make out of her face are…

Glowing blue eyes.

Glowing eyes that share an uncanny resemblance to the moss men.

And Anne loves doing elaborate, silly handshakes? That's so CUTE! Too bad none of her friends liked them as much as she did :( 

When they finally reached the foggy mountain place, Anne noticed glowing blue butterflies and started to follow them, which led her right to the moss man.

WAIT ANNE ALSO DID ROCK CLIMBING BACK HOME?? FUCKING JOCK!!!

S1 E20 Reunion 

Okay I WAS about to say that there wasn't anything to say about this last episode that hasn't already been said before BUT

The last couple moments, when Anne is holding Sasha off the cliff and trying to pull her up with the Planters, there's a couple interesting shots that I would like to talk about. 

While the Planters were holding onto Anne, they say things like "Hang on, Anne! We got you no matter what!" 

And even when the stone cliff starts to chip and break, none of the frogs back off, they don't loosen their grips, they just keep holding onto Anne. 

And they will never let go. 

Because they love her. Because in only 3 months, Anne was able to get a surrogate frog family and dozens of other frog friends in Wortwood. Because Anne has this amazing support system both literally and metaphorically. Because Anne is Anne. And Sasha...

Isn't like Anne. 

Matt Bradly himself even said that both Sasha and Anne are different from Anne, Anne is the heart, the emotional connection in their logical worlds. Anne can make so many friends so easily and Sasha… Sasha became a war genral, she lost a fight against the one person who she thought would never fight back. 

Sasha doesn't have what Anne has. She doesn't have the kind of skills to make such strong relationships, the kind where you risk your life for the other, in such a short amount of time. 

Hell, they even play a song called "Lean on Me", Anne has people to lean on and they would lean on her just the same. She found these people, made these friends, formed amazing relationships, in only THREE months. 

"Maybe you're better off without me"

And Sasha was only dragging her down. 

Sasha loves Anne, she cares for her and would do anything to protect her. That's why she let go. She didn't want to drag Anne down, to hurt her more than she already has. 

Sasha would do anything for Anne, even die. 

Over all notes: 

Season 1 is SUPER FUNNY!! The lines hit and they don't rely on toilet humor to get the audience to laugh. They use great one liners and physical humor that isn't fart or butt jokes. They do an excellent job on showing how crazy the world of Amphibia is through humor like how the animals are always eating each other. 

I really like how the characters were crafted so carefully! And the storyline!!! You could notice things that get explored in season 2 and I can't WAIT to see how many bread crumbs were left to lead up to season 3!

HOW DOES ANNE KEEP SO MANY THINGS IN HER BOOK BAG??? 

That stuff is in her SCHOOL BAG, why would she bring it to school??? So far I've got an air pump, toe nail clippers, pencils, cat toys, bath bombs and an energy drink. WHY??? I wonder if she held on to any of Sasha or Marcy's things too or ever forgot to give them back

Also again, I'M STILL IN SHOCK OF ANNE BEING A JOCK. I don't even know why I am, I knew she played sports and stuff it's just,,, she's so lanky,,, 

Her and Sasha are jock buddies and WILL shove other jocks in lockers if they ever pick on their nerd Marcy.

I also am in LOVE with Hop Pop's screams lmao

Be ready for an analysis of season 2! 

[kendrixtermina]

Appreciating the Range of Type 6, or, one stereotypical example, and three that aren’t.

I want to tell you about some type 6 ppl that I know in my personal life.

Exemplar #1: F. B.

Complete Stats

Wing: 5 p or cp: largely phobic – lots of safety worries, outright authoritarian follower personality Instinct: sp/soc Trifix: 613  - 6w5 1w2 3w2 (“The Taskmaster” or “The Middle Manager”) jungian: ISTJ / SLI-Te oldham: Conscientious & Aggressive Essence Type: Mars Temperament: Pure Choleric

What he’s like:

Not pleasant.

Every “strict conservative middle aged guy” stereotype in the book. Control freak, makes a mountain out of every molehill, sees the world as full of axe murderers, judgemental as fuck, horrible temper and yet completely impersonable, all his opinions are copypasted from right-wing news sites. When they say war is good he’s for war, and when they say war is bad he’ll be like “At least Trump did not start any more wars” without perceiving a contradiction. Despite this, he believes is very hot, principled and funny. He is none of these things. He puts people down nonstop. My knowledge of neurochemistry tells me that he must have emotions somewhere or he couldn’t function, but I ain’t ever seen a single one of those emotions. They’re all for his job and a few trusted mentor figures. And his mom. At least he loved her.

If you say anything he doesn’t like, he “throws the sofa out the window” as his wife once put it.

How he’s a Type 6:

Well, he’s pretty much every negative stereotype in a nutshell… other than distrusting his partner. But that might be cause hes sx blind, or cause the wife is big on monogamy & wouldn’t ever cheat.

The one positive trait of 6 that he has is that he does his research. Before moving anywhere he googles the crime rates and if you need a doctor he might find you the best one. But even that can be overriden by ideology (hydroxychloroquine!). And if you don’t take his exact advice, there goes the sofa out the window again…

And I guess the work ethic from all 3 parts of the trifix really comes through – he hasn’t had a single bad grade in his life and always keeps collecting new certifications, and will make sure you hear about it...

Exemplar #2: I.

Complete Stats

Wing: 5 P or cp: pretty much an even mix of phobic and counterphobic Instinct: sp/soc Trifix: 614 - 6w5 1w2 4w3 (Would prolly call herself “The Big Pain” rather than “The Philosopher” ^^°) jungian: INTJ / ILI-Ni oldham: Serious & Conscientious Essence Type: Saturn Temperament: Chlor-Mel

What she’s like:

I’d describe her as serious, mature, discerning, focused and passionate about her friendships, if perhaps somewhat forceful at times, with a dry, sarcastic sense of humor.

Comes across like someone who knows what she’s talking about, with well-articulated points.

Often the Responsible Sibling, Designated Sanity Checker or Bullshit Detector.

Prefers to plan everything in advance in typical Ni dom fashion, even amusement part trips. Gets somewhat anxious without a future plan or shedule.

Often mistaken for a whole lot more sociable and confident that she really feels inside. (even I kinda bought it and got her whole darn trifix wrong on my first typing attempt, though that was when I was new to typology) She can act the boss act temporarily to get the situation over with, but she actually hates making decisions.

She does however have the occasional cute/pure moment where that lower function block comes out.

How she’s a Type 6:

She has saved our family from many a terrible restaurant by making sure to check the reviews. The preparing for all possible dangers is very 6, the acting tough outwardly when youre inwardly anxious, the intellectual problem solving & some tendency towards organization/responsibility/ “logistic” intelligence.

One online test she took gave her 5w6 instead of 6w5 but that’s probably just the ITxx-ness leaking in. I remember this one time we were discussing this artsy-fartsy theater play to which we’d had fascinatingly different reactions, and at one point I half-jokingly said something like “But does anyone ever really feel connected to others, or is that a myth?” to which she wrote, “[Name], what the fuck? Yes I do.” and then immediately deleted it. That’s more of a 6 reaction innit?

Nonetheless the wing does feature in significantly – for example she got very well informed about a lot of topics because she researched them to assuage a random survival-related fear, like, “How to make sure I have enough retirement money”

Exemplar #3: M.

Complete Stats

Wing: 7 p or cp: largely phobic Instinct: sp/sx Trifix: 692 - 6w7 9w1 2w1 (Fortunately very much a “Good Samaritan” rather than “The Stockholm”) jungian: ISFP / SEI-Fi oldham: Sensitive & Devoted Essence Type: Lunar-Venus Temperament: Pure Supine

What she’s like:

Precious! Sweet, nice, good listener, friendly, gives all the best gifts. But also perceptive and good at understanding people, eg. mediating to the parents when one of the younger sisters is having An Emotion™ or winning the trust of problem children.

Unlike I. Who has some soc that helps her keep track of a larger circle of friends despite her introversion, M. tends to enjoy the closeness with her family and have just a few very close friends. Excellent friend material all around! The sx and Se also come out in enjoying art forms involving the body like theatre or dance.

She can be a bit shy, conflict-avoidant and occasionally a lil bit panicky though.

As a small kid she used to be super duper shy but then a wise english teacher encouraged her to play a big role in a play, and since then she’s a lot more confident and doesn’t let ppl push her around without limit, though she’s still a quiet, helpful person. There you see the difference that a good teacher can make.

How she’s a Type 6:

For one thing she moves and emotes faster than a core 9 would, and she fits the body language – big eyes that move around a lot, stands a bit lopsided, talks in a shrill voice on the rare occasions where we exhaust her patience etc. As a xSFx and a w7 she shows mostly the “warm, friendly, likeable” side of type 6. She also has a very 6-ish tendency to very frequently ask people’s opinions & feedback before making decisions. (the other fixes probably add to this)

Alas, she also has a little bit of of the fear/insecurity.

Also she has a social/care job which might be seen as 6-ish desire to serve the community.

Exemplar #4: J.

Complete Stats

Wing: 7 P or cp: largely counterphobic Instinct: sx/soc ?? definitely not sp first. Trifix: 638 - 6w7 3w4 8w9(?) (Shall she be a “Justice Fighter” or a “Kyle”? Only time will tell.) jungian: ISTP / LSI-Se ?? Oldham: ? some Dramatic & Serious, perhaps ? Essence Type: Definitely Mercury Temperament: San-Mel

What she’s like:

The first adjective that usually comes to my mind is ‘cool’. Sassy, energetic & a little bit tough, but also affectionate when she wants to be. (though in admiring way rather than a mushy one)

She says the coolest things, has a certain sly sort of cleverness, and an astonishly good poker face. Bit of an occasional prankster. Hilarious. Knows all sort of cool science facts. Avid gamer. 

Not especially popular or over the top sociable, but she gets sad if no one pays attention to her a while. Will act visibly moody where ppl can see sad or worried and can catastrophize a bit in such situations.

How she’s a Type 6:

I first though we might be getting an ExxP type 7 since she was a pretty energetic child, but once puberty hit and independent thought manifested, she turned out a whole lot too reactive and ‘edgy’ for this, and more on the ‘moderate introvert’ side of things.

Since then the sisterly dynamic has been like one fluffy golden dog and 3 hissing black cats. Hissing Cats #1 and #2 are very proud of her, but cat #1 was forced to conclude that she’s probably not a positive outlook type.

Out of all the reactive types 6 fits best because she does broadcast group identity (like wearing merchandise of her favorite media and wearing buttons in solidarity with ppl she likes.) & has a big case of Big Sibling worship for M, I, and someone else who isn’t on this list due to being a 9. (a 4 or 8 might like their older siblings but probably wouldn’t constantly stress the admiration.), but she can also show lasting, pouty displeasure with authority figures who have slighted her. (Like that one time I went too far in teasing her...)

I’m just assuming the 8 fix because that tends to make 6s more bold, louder & more shameless.

Basically she is the “punk teen” type of 6. She can be a bit dramatic & over-the top but still come to her family on advice (even advice on pranks!) in ways that xSTPs of other enneagrams prolly wouldn’t.

She also tends to use self-deprecating humor in tough situations and deflects compliments to present herself as ‘ordinary’.

...

This may sound like I’m really getting down on my first example (I won’t pretend that I’m not) but the point in bringing him up is that the reason he’s like this is: He was subject to really bad parenting that put a lot of fear into him, there was no good parenting to teach him broader coping strategies, he lived in a crappy environment that crushed his dreams, in a sense ‘confirming’ those fears and making him double down, resulting in a person who is just always rigidly following the same predictable pattern or jumping from one automatic reaction to the next with very little pausing and thinking. That goes for the other types too: A ‘stereotypical’ person is a desperate person ruled by fear, who cant stop or soften up even for an instant cause they constantly feel this fire of threat under their arse.

A lot of descriptions say that 6s ‘Follow authority’ but most would balk at the notion – ‘I do the research!’ they might argue ‘I don’t just trust anyone’ or ‘I’m actually a rebel’. There is of course such a thing as denial  that’s more like the extreme case.

But with a more average, functional 6 it’s not so much ‘obedience’ as that they just like to bounce their ideas off of others to get feedback, or that they feature in other’s viewpoints. So you might get someone who can naturally use feedback (something other ppl may have to learn first) or who is very considerate of others (which others might have to consciously remind themselves to do.)

Those are sometimes pretty good traits actually.

On the other hand this is probably part of what makes decisions hard cause they consider all these possible scenarios of how things might displease or cause harm to everyone involved.

Being able to naturally snap into Action Mode under stress looks a bit enviable from the outside, but I. assures me that it’s actually super stressful & exhausting, even for someone who doesn’t get to a point of just being unreasonably aggro at you.

Though even an extreme case like F.B. would probably claim that he ‘did the research’ even as he’s 1:1 quoting the Pope at you, and then saying that you ‘have to be respectful’ even if you don’t even believe in Christianity. Hence why you get a lot of authoritarians talking about “disrespect”. You didn’t “fail to obey”, you “disrespected the flag” or  “hurt the feelings of the Chinese people”. Because they’re still trying or inwardly thinking that they’re doing the consideritation & considering other’s PoV thing when they’ve long since crossed from respect and consideration into mindless obedience, all while still thinking that they’re very sceptical and discerning cause after all they really distrust the other political party or whatever.  

In a way you get this obsession with ‘mind control’ cause they’re not unaware of & very much looking to guard the blind spot. They’re adults trying to do adult things.

For example, if I voiced an opinion to F. B. which he didn’t like, his reaction was often to ask “who told you that”

That’s just how he seems to think opinions work, somebody tells them to you.

Makes one wonder how he thinks new opinions start.

Yeah - Nobody told me that. I concocted it myself in some corner of my head. And in the interest of objectivity, I should stress that you can also end talking out of your ass that way, if you’re not basing it on enough outside data. Making up new shit has more of a quadratic than a linear learning curve – at least with copying you get something semi-useful right away. In making up your own you might be really off a long time before you stumble on something useful.

Also, I was young at the time and it’s not wholly unreasobale to think that an inexperienced person might be duped. I reacted really badly in part cause he hit my own ego buttons cause I was of course proud of this epiphany that I had concocted by myself, and now he says (or so I perceived it, being sensitive to accusations of incompetence) that I’m too dumb to form an opinion, so of course I launched into full Obnoxious Reddit Dude Mode.

In I. It manifests more on a reasonable useful level like “Oh wait, should [young cousin] be on TikTok? I don’t want him to get sucked into some cultish BS.” which is at least something the parents should have on the radar/ warn him about even if they do let him use TikTok, because for all that it is vital for him to get his experience with independent socializing & experimentig with sel-presentation, people do sometimes get suckered into cults or goaded into unsafe tests of courage.

And in a sense… maybe they overamphasize it but to some extent they’re also simply consciously aware/ mindful of it. The rest of us are not immune to propaganda after all, solong as it’s presented in a way pleasing to our egos. Any type structure can become a ‘hook’ if you’re not careful.

[sub-hoshi-enthusiast]

I’m back with another idea!!😆😆 could you do sth like overstim/degradation with a hint of manhandling for Hyunjin or Changbin?? Plz and thank you❤️❤️

I know that this one took awhile so I'm sorry for the long wait but I hope you like it! I decided to write it for Changbin since I haven't written anything for him yet and I already have something for Hyunjin.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sub!Changbin, fem!dom!reader, mommy kink, degradation, overstimulation, a hint of manhandling, use of toys (vibrating plug), masturbation, and a lil bit of spanking.

See You at Home~

If you could use one word to describe yourself in this moment, it would be bored. Very bored. You had finished up everything you needed to do for the day and most everything you needed for tomorrow. Even so, you still had to sit in a boring, empty, office, waiting for someone to finish doing some paperwork to run up to you. The room itself was nice and spacious with a large window as the back wall so you had the perfect view of the city as well as a small wall of books (one that you had specifically requested to be put in). For some reason though, you just didn't feel like reading today, so you decided to watch some interviews of your boyfriend and his bandmates instead. 

     You were giggling at a random comment when a texting notification popped up on your screen. You smiled to yourself as you saw who it was. Speak of the devil. You had forgotten that Changbin was free for the day so you didn't text him, thinking you wouldn't get a reply. You tilted your head in slight confusion as you saw what he had sent you. It was a video that was about a minute long, sent with the simple message 'Make sure you're wearing headphones ;)'. The  thumbnail was just a black screen so you couldn't tell what it was about.

     You opened one of your desk drawers, pulling out a pair of headphones and plugging them into your phone. A few seconds into the video and your mouth went dry as a whimper filled your ears. He was face down in your bedsheets, facing the camera with his ass in the air. He had moved your body mirror so you could clearly see the vibrating buttplug he had shoved in his hole. One hand was desperately clutching the sheets next to him as the other pumped his cock, which you also noticed had a cockring around it. He was whimpering and whining into the mic, making arousal shoot through your body at the submissive sounds that flooded your ears. 

     "M-mommy~! Ngh- I missed you s-so much. I've been teasing myself for s-o long so I could be hard for you when y-you got home, but…" his words trailed off as he bit his already swollen lips. "I really wanna cum mommy! A-ah- it just feels too damn good!" You gripped your phone harder, knuckles turning white as you stare intently at the screen. He sat up, whimpering as the plug pushed deeper inside of him from the action and slowly removed the cockring. As soon as the object had been removed, he began stroking his cock at a much faster pace than he had before. "AH! Ohh- I've been thinking about you all day mommy! T-thinking about you p-pounding me into the mattress as I scr-eam for you! Oh god! Want you to t-tie me up and use me! Use me like I'm your own personal t-toy! Ngh- Oh god! - Cum! Cumming! G-gonna - A-AH!" You bit your lip as you watched his body tense up before thick ropes of white covered his hand and his stomach. He slowed down his strokes before stopping completely, giggling cutely as he grabbed the remote for the plug to turn it off. "See ya at home mommy~." He said before blowing a kissing to the camera and the screen went black.

     You stared blankly at the screen in front of you for a few minutes, clutching it tightly as thousands of thoughts clouded your mind. You snapped back to reality after you heard a small knock on the wooden doors to your office. You took out your earbuds, setting your phone down as you called for whoever it was to enter. Your secretary opened the door, arms full of paperwork. With the files secure in your office, that was your que to leave. 

-

     Changbin was standing in the kitchen, heating up popcorn for your weekly movie night when you walked in. The door slammed behind you, making him jump in surprise. A wide grin spread across his face as soon as he saw you, shuttering as he saw the dark look in your eyes.

     "Welcome home mommy! I was just working on-" He cut himself off with a quiet gasp as you slammed him against the counter, his back digging into the marble as you pressed your body to his.

     "What the hell was that? Did you think you were being cute?" You asked in a deep, raspy voice that you knew he loved. He shyly looked to the floor, the tips of his ears turning a bright red.

     "I-I'm sorry mommy." He claimed, but you could see the small smile making its way onto his face. You gripped his thighs tightly, making him whimper. You quickly spun him around, gripping his hair tightly and bending him over. He whined loudly, squirming in your grip as you landed a harsh slap to his ass. You pulled down his pants and boxers, ready to spank him again when you noticed something. Anger flared in you as you saw that he was still wearing the plug from the video. You yanked his head up by his hair so you could growl in his ear.

     "So this is how it's gonna be, huh? What the hell has gotten into you? Usually you're so good for me Binnie, what happened?" He bit his lip with a whimper, turning his eyes to look at you.

     "I-I - It's just - you haven't fucked me in so long! I just wanted to get mommy's attention." He whined out, squirming in your grip. You scoffed at his answer. He was kidding right?

     "If I remember correctly baby, I fucked you a little over a week ago, didn't I? Are you really such a filthy cockslut you can't go that long without mommy's cock pounding into you?" He moaned, grinding his hips back into yours.

     "Y-yes mommy! I-I'm such a slut for you! I can't live without mommy's cock destroying me! Please mommy~!" Your hand that wasn't in his hair gripped his hip tightly to stop them from grinding into you, making him whine. You pushed his head down so his cheek was pressed against the cold countertop.

     "I'm gonna go grab something, so don't move or I'm not gonna even think about touching you." He whined in slight aggravation as you disappeared but stayed still nonetheless. You weren't surprised to see most of your toys laid out on the bed already. You rolled your eyes, picking up the control for the plug, taking your time with putting away the other toys your boyfriend had laid out. You smiled once you had entered, happy to see Changbin still bent over the counter where you left him.

     "So you can listen?" He nodded enthusiastically, turning to look at you.

     "Wanna be a good boy for mommy." You had to hold back from laughing at his statement.

     "I think it's too late for that baby." You hummed, twirling the remote in your hand before turning it to the lowest setting. Changbin shuttered, whimpering at the sensation. You smirked at his reaction, pushing his thin t-shirt farther up his back so you could press open mouthed kisses up his spine. You bit down on the base of his spine, leaving a mark as you reached for the ring at the base of the plug. A loud whine left his lips when you pulled it out slightly, but was immediately followed by a gasp as you harshly thrusted it back into him. Submissive noises continued to flow from his lips as you harshly thrusted the plug in and out of him. He suddenly let out a loud gasp followed by a high pitched moan.

     "O-Oh fuck! Mommy! R-right there!" He whimpered as his arms reached out to grab anything, eventually deciding on gripping the opposite edge of the counter. You smirked down at him, chuckling at his disheveled state.

     "What's the matter Binnie? You were so confident in your little video earlier, so what's the problem?" He whined, squirming against the counter as his thighs started to shake from how close he was to his release. 

     "I-I'm sorry m-mommy! I- AH - I-I really am! Mommy! I w-wanna cum! N-need to cum so bad!" You raised your eyebrow, scoffing at his statement. 

     "You need to? But you came earlier, didn't you? I remember you cumming all over my sheets like a filthy slut because you couldn't wait for me to get home." You growled down at him, digging your nails into the flesh of his hips. He whimpered loudly, trying to grind back into the toy.

     "Please mommy! I-I'll be good for you from now on! Promise!" He whined, turning his head so he could look back at you with a pleading look in his eyes. You rolled your eyes before smirking and moving your other hand to play with his tip. You leaned over him so you could whisper in his ear. 

     "Go ahead baby, cum for mommy." He came while a mantra of 'thank you's left him. He let out a breath of exhaustion before whimpering once your hands didn't slow their movements. His eyes widened in realization.

     "W-wait, mommy!" He whined, squirming to get away from your hands. You removed your hand from his dick to spank him once, making him whimper.

     "Stay still. I thought you said you were gonna be a good boy for mommy." His whimpers turned to loud moans as the pain from the overstimulation drifted into pleasure. You snickered when you noticed him grinding back into your hands. "I thought you wanted me to stop, baby." He shook his head violently, whimpering as he felt a knot build up in his belly.

     "D-don't stop! Please d-don't stop! F-feels so good!" You leaned over him again, pressing your breasts to his back as you bit and sucked marks onto his neck. He was so focused on the pleasure he was receiving, he didn't notice that you moved one of your hands until he felt the vibrations from the plug suddenly shoot up. You smirked at his surprised gasps and whines as you switched the plug to max, stopping the thrusts to press it directly against his prostate. He babbled incoherently as the pleasure overtook his body, his sudden orgasm hitting him hard. His jaw fell open in a silent moan as his release covered the underside of the counter. You pressed the plug into him harder, making another spurt of cum shoot out of his tip before turning the toy off and carefully pulling it out of him. You removed his shirt so you could clean up the counter before pulling his pants and boxers the rest of the way off so you could clean them later.

     His body twitched slightly when you removed the plug. His mind was fuzzy and he couldn't even think about where he was until he felt his warm sheets around him. He hadn't even realized you had cleaned him up and moved him to the bedroom. You smiled at him, pushing some of his hair out of his face before bringing him into a sweet kiss. He smiled against your lips, pushing himself as close to you as he could. You cupped his face in your hands as you pulled away to look at him.

     "Are you alright baby?" He smiled at your concern before nodding, burying his face in your neck.

     "I'm fine." You let out a small sigh of relief as you pulled him closer to you.

     "Good. You can always tell me if I go too far y'know. I don't want to hurt you too bad." He looked up at you, pressing a few kisses to your jawline. 

     "I know you would never hurt me like that. I trust you." He mumbled. Your heart warmed at his statement and you kissed the top of his head.

     "I love you baby." All you got in return was a quiet snore, making you giggle before closing your eyes and drifting to sleep.

[petalshields]

[ ELLIOT KNIGHT, HE/HIM, CIS MAN ]  —  [ SABER WINSLOWE ]  is a child of  [ EPIONE ]  with the power of  [ PAIN SUPPRESSION + PATHOKINESIS ] .  they were born in  [ 1993 ]  and have been in nemean lion since  [ 2008 ] .  with the change, they  [ GRADUATED FROM ]  the  [ MEDICAL ]  role which makes sense since they’re usually  [ COUNSELING + READING + TRYING TO FEEL SOMETHING ] .  if you’d like to meet them try the  [ SUN ]  building .  —  garnet / she/her / kst / 18+ / @nlupdates​

it’s garnet ya’ll already know the vibes. this long as hell but bear with me.

Saber’s pinterest is here!

BIOGRAPHY!

saber did not grow up knowing the people he called his Ma and Pa were not his biological parents. Ma and Pa lived in a red barn hidden acres deep in rural New Haven, Kentucky and they prayed every night for a child that they couldn’t seem to conceive. one night, a woman appeared with her three-year-old son in tow, explaining that his father died in a tragic accident. the winslowes welcomed him inside and the woman disappeared into thin air. it wasn’t until the boy, who told them his name was saber, was fed, bathed, and asleep that they questioned where the woman came from. unbeknownst to them, it was the goddess of recovery epione, who just lost one of her mortal lovers and decided that saber could be the answer to the winslowe couple’s prayers.

starting he was around nine-years-old, saber bounced from foster home to foster home. he was taken from his doting parents who weren’t at all neglectful nor inattentive, but a concerned doctor reported the frequency of his hospital visits and the severity of his injuries. as a rambunctious lad who was always too curious, saber collected injuries the way other kids his age might’ve collected bugs. it did not help that he appeared to have an exceedingly high pain tolerance, and he wasn’t aware that a part of his body was wounded until someone pointed it out or he fell forward because his leg was broken.

while his parents were being investigated, at around the age of twelve, saber was placed in a particularly volatile household. its chaos could be felt the moment that he stepped inside. nonetheless, saber always had the gift of being a calming presence to those around him. even at his young age, he sympathized with others and always helped those in need, but he noticed that emotions could change quickly if he touched them. he could place two fingers on someone’s pulse and the heart of a mourning person would no longer thud under his fingertips, their sorrow drying on their cheeks. saber had the same effect on his aggressive foster family, who he would touch on the shoulder, elbow, or hand to calm them down. they’d always shake him off, but their mood visibly shifted, and saber would watch them walk away from the battle they’d almost started. he couldn’t relate to such extreme displays of emotion — while he wasn’t without empathy, he did not feel deeply for himself.

emotions became a puzzle that he wanted to solve, and saber poured over books about the topic to better understand his foster family. it was his obsession and he began to absorb random facts about how the brain functioned. this led saber into reading more, curiosity becoming less physical and tactile and more intellectual, using a flashlight under his covers at night to consume more knowledge.

when saber was thirteen, going on fourteen in a few days, he was claimed by epione sending a garter snake into his box-sized front lawn. saber, who was outside at the time, bent down to examine the creature, and when he looked up, there was a woman that he’d never seen before standing with his social worker. His social worker introduced him to his mother and explained that he’d be going with them to a new place, giving him time to pack his suitcase with his things. he did as he was told, waving goodbye to his foster family. they grumbled about having one less mouth to feed.

in the car, saber couldn’t stop looking at his mother, who was so familiar yet a stranger, and it was then that his social worker told him about his godly heritage. that because he’d been claimed by his mother, he was in danger, so he had to go somewhere he could be kept safe. that somewhere was nemean lion.

saber was a little awkward at first, but he found his strides, excelling in his training. he stayed in the standard track for the first year before switching to medical. many thought that he could have been a hero because of his bravery and his inability to feel pain, but he chose to follow his passion in trying to crack the brain. he received basic medical training, but by the time he was eighteen, he remained on campus for a little bit longer to study psychology.

at nemean lion, saber became close with another boy, another demigod. saber never had a crush before and he didn’t feel the clichés. the affinity that he felt towards the other boy was chosen rather than felt — he chose to speak with him for hours, he chose to go on dates with him, and he chose to kiss him back. in addition, saber also vowed to never change the other boy’s emotions with his ability — it was nice to have something that flourished organically without manipulation on his part.

homophobia tw: saber and his boyfriend married immediately after graduation and he brought his new husband back to meet Ma and Pa. the aging couple was set in their ways, and though they tried, they did not approve of saber marrying someone so quickly. when saber asked them if they would have approved if he did the same with a woman, he found their answer in their hesitance. his husband stormed out and saber filed behind him. “why didn’t you say anything?” his husband spat at him. saber didn’t say anything in response, understanding the reason for the reproach, that perhaps he should have said something, but he also logically understood that their bigotry wasn’t his problem. he touched his husband’s cheek, absorbing the pain and anger, something he swore he’d never do to his husband. but he did, and for the remainder of their time together, he didn’t forgive himself for it.

saber and his husband had a few honeymoon years before the marriage unraveled, but saber wasn’t aware of the unraveling. he came home one night to find his husband packing his bags, claiming that he no longer felt that spark between them and he hadn’t for a while now. saber simply responded that he didn’t notice, withholding that he felt the distance between them increase but couldn’t do anything about it, didn’t know what to do. he didn’t want to use his power to fabricate contentment, even love, where there was little to none. his husband said “you never notice, because you don’t know how to care.” it was an act of caring, however, that saber let him go find whatever would make him happy. shortly after, the divorce papers were filed, and his last name legally changed back to winslowe.

saber owns his own private practice, and he services both humans and demigods. the whole point of his character is that he’s telling other people how to get their lives together while his own is a hot mess, and he can be a bit of a hypocrite. but it be like that!

WANTED CONNECTIONS!

CLIENTS: everybody needs a lil therapy

EX-HUBBY: i’ll probably put a wanted connection in for this, but if you think that your muse could have been married to Saber....i just think we could have that conversation.

SOCRATIC CIRCLE: ezra stokes and sila demir zerhouni are part of this little group, where they get together and discuss intellectual stuff over coffee. if you think your muse would be interested in joining them, let me know!

MENTEES: the mind’s just as important as the body, and i imagine saber has a lot of insight that’s useful for other medical track kids. however it doesn’t have to be restricted to just the med kids, let him be ur dad friend.

CONFIDANT: someone who saber can hit up and be like “so do you feel nothing or is it just me” u feel me??

OLD FRIENDS/LIKE SIBLINGS: saber tries to be a good person and he really values his connections, so he maintains his friendships. he definitely got his shit rocked by his husband suddenly divorcing him so he really wants to figure out how to have relationships that mean something to other people.

ANYTHING: hit my line babes

[homemadepastasauce]

A Wild Night

Genre: Smut and hot trash

Pairing: Female Reader X Doyoung, Jimin, Jackson, And Mark

Warning: Not something my mom and I are proud of, Y/N as usual has their legs open 24/7

Alternate Title: Girl goes to party and fricks guys she's barely on a first name basis with.

Author's Note: My first ff! If I made any mistakes no I didn't. If you got any request, request them, I write for anime and kpop ( don't take my account seriously though).

Disclaimer: Y/N doesn't rights, and I feel as the president of the Y/N Sucks Hate Club it's my duty to do this. Also, don't do drugs.

Ok, let me set the scene. You were the guest to one of the biggest party in all of LA, and boy were you excited. You may or may not have slept your way in with the bouncer, but that's a story for a different time. So, you get into the club and the music, weed, and vodka hit. You love that smell. It's powerful. You look around and see unhealthy of amount of hotties. This was your dream come true. First things first you hit the dance floor with a load of people touching up on each other. The DJ dude was crazy too, he was playing all of your favorite tunes. Vibes, absolute vibes.

For like thirty minutes you were busting your moves, like a complete dance machine. You were lost in space, but then you felt two strong arms grab onto your hips from behind.

The stranger whispered in your ear, his breath smelling of slight booze, "You have got to be the most good looking stranger I've seen in a long time." This statement filled your raging ego with pride, it brought a smirk to your face.

"So what website did you get that one from?"

He chuckled, "So, that's how your gonna act, huh? I can't say I don't like it. I'm Doyoung."

"Y/N"

"Say, would care to have a drink with me, Y/N?"

"Sure, but you better not waste my time with this small talk."

"Oh, I promise there won't be a lot of talking when I'm through with you," he grabs your hand and walks you over to the bar.

"Hey, bartender, let me get two shots of Grey Goose with a couple squeezes of lime," you say with a big smile.

"How'd you know I like vodka and why lime?"

"Lucky guess, and lime gives a little kick to it," you replied.

Actually if you were being honestly, it wasn't a lucky guess, you always ordered that. He's just easily impressed. You could tell in no time this guy would be banging your brains out. Drinks are easy baits to get what you want, everyone always seems to fall for it.

💫⭐Quick starter recipe for success by Y/N, an established piece of trash⭐💫

Regular vodka = boring and basic (you didn't even try, easily forgettable)

Vodka with a lil spice to it = a squeeze of lemon? lime? orange? (heck even a slash of henny is a positive plus plus)

"So what do you want and hope to achieve out of this, Y/N?" The bartender sets down your glasses and walks away.

"I don't know. You were the one that came up to me, I'm just going with the flow." You were messing with him, of course, both of you only wanted one thing and one thing alone.

"You're a strange person Y/N," he leaned in close to your ear, "but I know what you want."

You chugged the spicy shot down your throat, "I don't know what you're talking about. If I wanted something from you, I wouldn't said, "I want something from you."

You took out the eight dollars from your purse and set them down on the counter. Doyoung looked confused, almost like he wanted to say something but didn't. You got up from the barstool and made your way to the back bathroom, much quieter than the bar or dance floor. But before you could close the door, Doyoung snapped out of his trans and walked towards you.

"Hey!" He held the door with a strong grip, "You can't just leave, I wasn't done with you." Hmm, you weren't done with him either. You smiled knowing you already had him wrapped around your little finger.

"You're an idiot."

"I'm a what?"

"An idiot," you said confidently, "Get inside and lock the door." He did as he was told, no questions asked with an annoyed look on his face. And at that moment you knew he was about to rearrange your guts.

He started to unbuckle his belt, "You know when I first spoke to you, you seemed interesting enough, but you're just like the rest." The rest? Huh? Anyway, his words didn't faze you, it was the big mount in his unbuckled pants that did. You placed your purse to the side and sat on the sink counter. He does nothing but stare at your body as you slowly take your undies off and throw them on the dirty bathroom floor. Nasty.

"Are you just gonna stand there or are you going get to work before I do," you threaten. He smiles at your bluff and comes close to your face with a sinful look.

"You want this, huh? Know that I'm leaving as soon as I finish."

Ok? Are you supposed to be sad?

He takes his at LEAST nine incher inside you and starts to go ham. No warm-up, no tease. Nope, just right inside.

"You have quite an ego for someone this dry," he teases. His words enraged you, like how dare he say such a crude thing to a whore like you? But for some reason, it just made you even wetter.

Maybe because he looked so scrumptious? Or maybe you couldn't hear it due to all the moans you were letting out? But dear holy moly he was making you feel so good. He was using his fingers on your grandma-looking nub and pounding into you Micheal Jackson style. Holy crap it felt amazing, not the best you've had, but amazing nonetheless.

"Mmmmh," he moaned, "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

And before he could say another word, he came inside.

Doyoung cleaned himself up, zipped his pants, and left. Leaving you a complete mess that didn't even get to finish. It was fun while it lasted you had to say. But what a selfish prick, he was hot too. You cleaned up his and yours mess, and put back on the underwear you threw onto the dirty public restroom floor. Yeah, you weren't the smartest book on the shelf.

How’d he do, though? He was definitely good, but not spectacular and a little stiff. Your rating? 7/10.

After your little "bathroom break" with Doyoung, you decided you wanted to have something... not Doyoung. You walk up to the second floor filled with stoners, and people who clearly wanted to jump off a cliff. No problem though, stoners were chill and you could pretty much go up to them and ask if they wanted you to swallow their kids, so that you did. There was a guy smoking the devil’s lettuce, lounging on the couch with two others waiting their turn. Hot dang they looked yummy.

“So what are you boys up to?” You say with a smile.

“Isn’t it obvious?” The boy on the middle said with aggression, “We're blowing one up.” 

“Chill Jimin, she's just trying to make conversation,” he said passing it on to him. He rolled his eyes and started to smok in silence.

The one on the left looked up at you and said, “So which one of us do you want?” 

“How do you know I want only one, what if I want all three of you?”

“Like at a time?”

The guy in the left began to speak again with smoke coming out of his mouth, “No dumbass, look at her, she wants all three filled. Clearly.” He winked. He was just gorgeous, ready for an adventure.

“Jimin, was it?”

“Don’t be so condescending, Jackson said my name not even two minutes ago, don’t get smart with me.”

“Jimin, enough, pass it on to Mark and be nice while you’re at it.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

You rolled your eyes and pointed to a secluded corner out of public view you’ve been eyeing since you came to the floor, “See over there is where you guys are gonna meet me if you wanna have a good time. If not, you’re gonna take the biggest L of the night.”

The guy on the left got up and pasted it back on to the one in middle, aka, Jimin. He scoffed, “Seriously Mark?”

“Ah, yeah, this is a once in a lifetime thing.”

“True that,” the other got up made his way to the corner, following you. 

“How are you guys are being so careless right now?! She probably has like five STDs... and three STIs, and... probably a kidney stone, too!”

You could hear him, but payed no mind. It’s not your fault his friends had good taste, even if there's a ninety eight percent chance they'd get chlamydia.

You got on your knees and started to feel up on their pants. You could feel them getting hard as you unzipped both of their pants. Chile, they were packing full on heat. You started to lick and slurp them up, using your hands, too. There moans made you want to have their babies. Not literally, you weren't that crazy, but figuratively.

“Keep going.”

“Yeah, don’t stop until I say so.” 

You did what they asked like a pro, but before you could deepthroat one of those precious horse pps, you feel someone separate your legs and roam there only source of pride straight into your rectum. In and out. In and out. Gosh darn it felt good. You're not stopping. One of them go into the your vag and the other says in your mouth.

“FDUR, I’m close keep going!!!!”

Already? I mean all of you were close but still.

And not even a half a second you felt three liters of pancake mix fill up your holes. Mhmm, now that’s a job done right. They pulled out and left you right there, not even caring to look back. But it was fine cause you got what you wanted in the end. 10/10

What a night, huh?

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 16//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

Happy Winter Solstice everyone! In honor of this day, and our girl Feyre’s birthday, here is chapter 16 to celebrate! I hope you all have a fantastic week celebrating the holidays! Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, and an overall Happy Holidays! ❤️

X

"Rhys?"

My soft whisper was met with silence; my mate remaining in the depths of slumber, an arm draped over my waist as we lay entangled in our plush sheets. It was still dark outside, only a couple of hours having passed since we turned in for the night and yet I awoke; overcome with an urge I had never felt so intensely before.

"Rhys?" I whispered again, touching his cheek gently and saw a flicker in the muscle of his jaw.

"Rhysand…" I pressed, my heart racing in hopes I could coax him into consciousness as tenderly as possible.

"Yes…?" He muttered, voice thick with sleep and eyes remaining closed.

"Rhys…" I hesitated, moving in a little closer to him as I murmured sheepishly. "I'm...hungry,"

His dark brows pulled together in confusion, "Hungry?" he asked.

I nodded, my head rubbing against his shoulder with the motion. "Starving, actually," I admitted as I traced circles along the dark whorls of his tattoos.

I grinned as he opened his eyes, still perplexed as he turned to me. "You didn't eat at dinner?" He asked, concerned, and I giggled.

"I did. You were there remember?"

"That's right," he closed his eyes again with a sigh of relief, the hand on my waist drifting to my rounded stomach pressed against his side. "We went to Sevenda's with the others and you had the prime rib special."

My stomach growled at the memory, and I choked back a rising sob. "Yes…"

He opened his eyes again, alarmed at the sound of unshed tears in my voice. "What's wrong, Feyre?" he asked, fully alert now as he shifted onto his side to look down at me.

I felt my eyes burn, suddenly overcome with guilt for making him worry and for waking him up, but I couldn't resist the ache in my stomach.

"I want more," I whispered.

He blinked, taken aback as he stared at me. "Of the prime rib?" He clarified.

I nodded with a hiccup. Cauldron damn these hormones. "I need it Rhys. We need it." I said, placing my hands on my stomach.

Rhys breathed a sigh of respite, laughing breathily as he dropped his forehead against my collarbone. "Oh Feyre, you scared me."

"I'm serious, Rhys, I'm so hungry and that prime rib was so good. I need more of it, or else-"

"Of course, my love, whatever you want," he hurriedly reassured me, kissing my cheeks before pulling back to meet my gaze.

I sniffed as I stared into his violet eyes, sparkling with amusement. "Really?"

My heart lifted at the feline grin on his lips, "Yes. Would you like everything that came with it too?"

I brightened and nodded, "Yes. Please."

He chuckled and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips before pulling back and climbing out of bed. "I'll be right back, then."

I beamed as I pushed myself up slowly, a month of growth on my abdomen now weighed me down and I required a little more effort when rising from any laying or sitting position. In the month that passed since the summit, since Eira's birth, we had all fallen into a sense of ease. Prior to the summit, Rhys and I did our best to compose our nerves over the rising coup, but now with the full support of our friends at our back, we finally felt a sense of solace. We were still in a period of waiting—of gathering more intelligence on Keir, Kallon, and now Beron. Thanks to Azriel's continued spy work, we were assured that no advancements were being made on either front, so we all allowed ourselves to breathe easier—for now at least.

The only wild card that remained was Eris, but after a brief meeting with him at our moonstone palace above the Court of Nightmares, things seemed...placated, for the time being. The eldest of the Vanserra sons, and heir to the Autumn Court, assured the earlier theory Rhys had—that the male wanted our support in overthrowing his father. What surprised me, however, was that it was all he wanted. He swore he played no part in his father's plans with Keir, and to prove it he provided us with detailed, secret, reports from his father's general; whom he had rallied to his side as well. The reports accurately lined up with the intel Azriel's network of spies had collected, and as of recently divulged a lack of movement as well.

It seemed the trio of traitors were biding their time, presumably attempting to adjust their plans now that the entire continent was aware of my pregnancy. We knew better than to assume they would reel back on the coup because of this; instead deciding to strike before my child had a chance to be born. The threat still haunted us all, but until we had news of any change in plans, we had to wait. In the meantime, Rhys, our family, and I were making the best of it. True to the promise I made myself, having seen how curious and eager Cassian had been in learning about my pregnancy, I spent as much time with them as I could. To aid in our efforts, Rhys and I hired a personal assistant to help balance our workload as High Lord and High Lady; agreeing that we needed the help while we transitioned into preparing for parenthood. That assistant was Clotho, the mute priestess who served in the library of Velaris, and one of the only other fae Rhys or I could trust outside of the inner circle. The priestess humbly agreed and now split her time between our estate and the library. Despite not being able to outwardly express herself, Rhys assured me that she was ecstatic to hear of my pregnancy and wanted nothing more than to help us balance our work between ruling and parenting.

In the month that passed, not only were we able to de-stress a bit and enjoy leisure time with our family, but I had also observed a notable change in myself. While my belly, now an impressive, rounded mound that was pronounced no matter what I wore, continued to grow with the promise from Madja that our son was still as healthy as ever; I noticed a myriad of developments in my emotions. While I did find myself with more energy than I had in the early days of my pregnancy, that frequency in fatigue now seemed to trade places with erratic mood swings. One minute I would be as happy and content as ever, and in the next beset with unexpected gloom. However, everyone seemed to take it in stride—especially my mate, who simply smiled and listened to me rant or just held me when I needed to cry.

Along with my renewed energy, my appetite returned with a vengeance. The same three meals I ate everyday no longer sated me, and I found myself snacking on various things throughout the day. There had been an incident a few weeks ago where I watched in total envy as Azriel snacked on dried meat in between training with Cassian and Rhys—something the brothers had picked back up in part due to the looming threat, but also as a means for entertainment. It wasn't until Cassian noticed me on the verge of tears and snatched the meat from Azriel, casually offering it to me, that I realized I had officially started with pregnancy-related cravings. The cravings hadn't been so intense; until tonight, when I had been ripped from sleep by my growling stomach and the desire to have another helping of dinner had me waking my mate from his sleep.

"Do you think she still has those leftovers?" I asked as I watched him dress.

"I'm sure she has plenty left reserved for you, Feyre darling. She saw how much you loved it," he replied with a knowing grin.

My face warmed as I recalled how the restaurateur offered to pack up extra servings for me to bring back to the estate, but I had been too embarrassed at the extra helpings I already consumed during our stay and politely refused.

"I didn't want to look like a glutton," I admitted sheepishly.

He walked over, resting his hands on the bed as he leveled our gazes. "No one would think that. You're pregnant and feeding the heir to the Night Court. They know he needs to eat, even in the middle of the night," he said and gave me another chaste kiss before stroking a hand along my stomach affectionately.

I smiled. "That's true. It's just hard to keep up when I feel absolutely ravenous every few hours."

He smirked appreciatively as he rubbed my stomach again, "Is there anything else my son wants?"

"Strawberries," I answered quickly. "With chocolate, or whipped cream."

Rhys laughed and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Whatever you want, my love," he repeated and stood upright.

I waited for him to return as patiently as I could, pacing between our bedroom and balcony every few minutes before finally pacifying myself by sitting with a book on the cushioned bench of the balcony. In order to keep myself distracted, I read a book of plays aloud in hopes that my growing baby would be patient in his insatiable appetite. The sound of my voice must have appeased him, because as I continued to read, my hunger seemed to dull a bit. However, after a few minutes passed, I felt his kicks of protests and rubbed at the spot.

"If you have such a problem with my reading, then talk to your father. He's the one that taught mama how to read," I said, and my heart warmed at the memory of my lessons with Rhysand in my early days at the Night Court. "Maybe he'll teach you to read too."

"We both could," I heard Rhys say from behind me and I whipped my head around to see him holding a bundle of food.

I pushed myself up unceremoniously, eager to eat as the smells hit my nose. "That's so much food!" I exclaimed as he walked over and placed the bundle on the small table we kept on the balcony.

"Sevenda might've given us some more food she thought you might enjoy," he answered with a laugh before snapping his fingers and the food instantly displayed out before me.

I gasped in admiration before Rhys pulled out a chair for me and I happily sat, digging into my meal immediately and moaned with relief as the savory juices of the prime rib hit my taste buds.

Rhys sat next to me, casually grabbing a strawberry from the bowl he had also laid out and snacked on it as he regaled me while I indulged myself. "You truly are a sight to behold, Feyre darling."

I felt my face warm and dread filled my chest as I swallowed a mouthful. "Do I look like a pig?" I asked, that dread beginning to ebb into shame.

"No, no." He quickly reassured me, moving closer until our knees were touching. "I meant the sight of my expecting mate enjoying herself, of nourishing my growing child, is one I never dreamed I'd see," he explained. His hand came to rest on my stomach again as those beautiful amethyst eyes grew tender.

I squeezed his hand gently, "You deserve it Rhys. This child is a culmination of everything that is good about you; of all the good you've done in your lifetime."

His eyes were lined with silver as they met mine, and I moved my hands to cup his face. "He will be all the best parts of you, Rhysand."

"And of you," he swore. "You brought out the best in me Feyre. Everything that I am, that I have now, including this child, is all because of you."

My heart pounded with joy as I beamed and pulled him in for a kiss. He returned it with just as much fervor and heat began pooling in my core. When he pulled away too soon for my liking, I kissed him again-slowly, and nipped at his bottom lip.

I felt the fiendish smirk of his lips on mine as he muttered, "I thought you were hungry?"

"I'm hungry for something else now." I whispered, staring at him with half-lidded eyes.

I shrieked with a laugh as he scooped me up in his arms, my legs easily hooking around his waist as the food from the table suddenly disappeared and he carried me over to the nearest wall.

XXX

The following morning, I was pleased to see Rhys still in our bed and even more delighted to still be wrapped in his arms. He had a tendency to wake before I did these days and often got a head start on his work, allowing me the opportunity to sleep in and get the rest my body needed. However, after the night we had, I wasn't too surprised to see him needing the extra sleep. I smirked mischievously as I lightly traced along the tattoos on his chest with my own tattooed fingers, relishing in his scent as I recalled the details of our night that extended into the early hours of the morning.

It was a welcome change of pace after the stress that weighed on us; one we needed now more than ever with a youngling on the way. The days of just the two of us were set to expire in a few months; soon to be filled with a new life we would have to work together to sustain—all while balancing our duties of presiding over the Night Court. I often tried not to let the weight of that responsibility stress me out; knowing we had our whole family to rely on, but now that I was nearly halfway through my pregnancy, I wanted more of this time alone together.

I felt dark talons gently caress my mental shields and I smiled as I lowered them enough for my mate, who kept his eyes closed despite now being conscious. I allowed him into my thoughts; letting him know of my yearning for the quality time we had just experienced together as a lazy hand caressed my stomach.

"Let's go to the Cabin for a few days," he said after a couple of minutes passed.

I pushed myself up on an elbow, staring down at him as his sleepy violet eyes met with mine. "Really?" I asked, already keen on the idea.

He nodded in affirmation. "Cassian and Azriel are keeping the appropriate tabs on everything, and Clotho is set to meet with Mor and Amren today to go over some paperwork from the Palace Lords in Velaris," he explained.

I nodded. "My sisters also have their own agenda," I added. "Elain plans to drag Nesta to the market, or one of the palaces, today."

"So, we can get away," Rhys said. He brushed a stray lock of hair out of my face and I nodded again.

"Let's go now." I said, eager to escape with my mate.

It had been months since we set foot in the Cabin together. There were times he or I visited alone to let off some steam, sometimes meeting each other by the end of the day, but it was the first time we would go together since Winter Solstice; the first time since I fell pregnant, and I couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic.

Rhys smiled languidly. "Right now?"

I nodded and pushed myself up carefully, staring down at him with a grin. "Right now," I confirmed.

His smile shifted from lazy to determined as he sat up in the bed. I reached over to pull on my silky dressing gown and robe as he climbed out of bed and dressed. I laughed as he scooped me up in his arms and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"We'll have to bring the baby too," I said in mock disappointment.

He chuckled as he walked over to the balcony. "That's all right. We'll consider it our first trip as a family."

The next thing I knew, we were in the sky, Rhys's powerful wings easily propelling us from our balcony and into the air in a matter of seconds. I held onto him as I felt the warm breeze encircle us and whoosh through my hair as he took us to our destination. I watched his wings as they moved; strong and beautiful, and felt a kick from inside my stomach.

"Do you think he can tell we're flying?" Rhys asked.

"Maybe," I said as I felt another swift kick and rested a hand on the spot. "It's okay baby, daddy won't drop us."

"Never," Rhys affirmed.

I looked up at him, "Do you think he'll have wings?"

The corner of Rhys's lips twitched upwards. "Of course he will. Maybe not at birth, but they'll come."

"Were you born with your wings?" I asked, admiring how the sun reflected off the iridescence of them as they moved in unison.

He shook his head. "My mother was hopeful they would develop as I matured, and a day after my eighth birthday they appeared," he said.

"Just like that?" I asked with a smirk.

"Magic."

I laughed and traced a finger along the membrane of one as it moved within my reach. He stiffened at my touch and I grinned playfully.

"Illyrian baby," I teased.

"If it weren't for my son in your belly, I would demand you fly us to the Cabin and see how you fare while I stroke your wings," Rhys taunted.

I giggled and pecked his cheek, keeping one arm draped around his neck while the other rested on my stomach. I paused as realization struck.

"Is that when your mother brought you to the mountains?" I asked.

Rhys nodded, already knowing what I referred to. "I think she was going to bring me regardless, but she was eager for me to fly and learn the Illyrian traditions."

The silver in his violet eyes flecked with a hint of sadness as he recalled the memory of his mother. The current status of our relationship with the Illyrians put a strain on his heart. He grew up with them, found his brothers amongst them, and their participation in the coup was the last thing he ever wanted. I laid my head on his shoulder in order to provide him with some comfort, not wanting either of us to dwell on that heartache during our little getaway.

His fingertips brushed the side of my stomach lightly as he held me closer. "I want him to learn, to train, like I did," he said.

Although he didn't ask, I heard the question in his words and I nodded. "He's Illyrian, just like you."

He pressed a kiss to my temple and landed on the steps leading to the Cabin, setting me on my feet carefully and I smiled reassuringly at him before taking his hand as we both walked to the entrance. As soon as we walked in, the fire in the hearth ignited and the rest of the house sprang to life with a wave of Rhys's hand, immediately accommodating us. A second later, platters of food appeared in the kitchen and I beamed.

"I love it here," I said as I strolled over to the counter, picking up a piece of perfectly crisped bacon and took a bite.

Rhys smiled roguishly as he joined my side, taking a slice of bacon for himself. "It's just what we needed, especially after your ravenous cravings kept me up all night. In more ways than one," he said with a wink.

I threw my hand up in a vulgar gesture. It's not like you were complaining. I said through the bond.

Indeed not, my love.

I sat at one of the raised chairs beside the counter, looking over the paintings I had filled in the room all those years ago—when I escaped here for the first time after learning he was my mate. I ate as I reflected on the last decade; at how it had brought us here, with our son now growing inside of me.

"I want to give birth here," I said after a comfortable silence had befallen us.

Rhys paused. "Really?" he asked.

I nodded, resting a hand on the apex of my belly. "It feels right. This is where I accepted our mating bond; where we decided to start trying for a baby, and I'm pretty sure this is where he was conceived too," I said with a smile, having done the math in my head. By the time I realized I was pregnant, on Starfall, I was already a couple of months along; meaning our attempt to conceive on Winter Solstice—as we did every year, had been successful

He smirked in return at the memory; it was somewhat of a tradition he made of bringing me here on my birthday. "My mother gave birth to me, and my sister, in this cabin," he said. "With the help of some Illryian midwives and some camp-mothers."

"Then it's perfect," I said softly.

He reached down to stroke my stomach gently. "I want to be there," he said. "In the room, while you give birth. Through all of it actually. I know it isn't traditionally done, my own father waited outside the room both times, but I want to be there and hold your hand when my son comes into the world. Just the thought of you going through labor, of enduring all that pain alone," he shook his head as if to erase it from his mind. I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"I wouldn't want you anywhere else, Rhysand." I said, not at all surprised at his declaration.

A week after Eira's birth, Viviane and Kallias had both sent us letters-informing us of their daughter's arrival, fawning over her beauty and detailing how infatuated they already were, but also informing us of their own accounts of what the birthing process had been like. At the summit, Viviane expressed that she knew what to expect, but in her letter, she elaborated just how excruciating it really was. Luckily, Kallias had also been there with her, providing her with whatever support she needed and relieving as much of the pain as he could through back massages, also letting her clutch onto him for dear life as she suffered through pain after pain. I wasn't sure what Kallias had told Rhys in his letter, but shortly after my mate had summoned Madja and asked the healer to guide us through exactly what to anticipate.

"Are you nervous?" He asked.

I chewed on my lip in thought, recounting the gruesome details that both Viviane and the healer had laid out for me. The pain alone would come in constant, violent waves, and could last as long as a day.

"A little," I admitted. "But I know I'll be much more comfortable here; with you there."

"I'll be there every step of the way and do whatever I can to ease the pain." He promised, taking my hand and pressing a lingering kiss to it.

I smiled. "It'll be just the two of us, Madja, and the midwife."

The healer had told us that she worked with her sister, who served as a midwife for just as long as she had been a healer, when delivering younglings. Rhys and I readily agreed to have her along and made a plan to meet with her once I came closer to the end stages of my pregnancy.

I squeezed the hand that held mine, staring at the new tattoo that had formed from his renewed vow he made at the beginning of my pregnancy—when he promised not to let his male-bonded instincts shelter me unnecessarily. I ran my thumb over the crescent moon design.

"Do you think," I hesitated, mulling over my words. "Do you think...I'll be good at it?"

He paused. "At what? Giving birth?"

I laughed humorlessly, "No, not that. At...being a mother?"

I avoided his gaze, feeling the weight of those smoldering violet eyes as I continued to stare at the blue-black ink of his tattoo. After a few seconds of silence, his other hand came to grip my chin gently, tilting my head up so that I could meet those beautiful eyes.

My heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in them. "You will be an amazing mother, Feyre," he swore, his voice earnest.

My eyes burned as I thought of my own mother; of how imperious and cold she had been towards her daughters. I often wondered how she had felt when she was pregnant with us, because once we were born, she hardly bothered caring for us at all. Did she ever love us? She worshipped my father, her "one true love," but how could she not dote on the fruition of that love? Perhaps she had loved my father for what his wealth provided her instead, and the lavish lifestyle she lived-before she died.

"You are not your mother, Feyre." Rhys said, his hand moving from my chin to my cheek. "I already see the love you have for our son in your eyes, in your actions, every day."

I sniffed as I looked down at my stomach, heart swelling as I thought of my son—of how eager I was to hold and cherish him, and I couldn't fathom pushing him away. I nodded lightly as I wiped at the few tears that managed to escape.

"I just worry sometimes," I admitted.

Rhys nodded in understanding. "I worry about myself too," he said, and frowned. "I worry about being like my father; that I might be too hard on my son, and that I might age as cold and calculating as he did."

I shook my head, taking hold of the hand still on my cheek. "You could never Rhys," I said with the same smile I had given him last night—the same emotions in my eyes as I reminded him what this child meant for us.

I felt the tension leave as he sighed in content, resting his brow against mine as we both stared at my stomach; our thumbs caressing either side of it, holding our baby. I felt him move, sending kicks at both our hands, and we laughed; my chest swelled with hope that perhaps he could feel the love between us—at the love we shared for him.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Along the same lines as my previous ask because that turned out so wonderfully! Little Monsters SternClay au? I feel like Barclay might be even worse at being a scary monster than Indrid unless he felt hurt or threatened? And Stern, the precious lil’ monster nerd, was probably a bit more than Barclay bargained for. If you decide you want to write it, NSFW is always welcome! Thank you for your beautiful writing! 😭👏🏆

Here you go! It is indeed NSFW

Barclay can totally do this. He’s seven, the same age most monsters are when they’re assigned to humans, and his teacher was very clear about what he should do. She also told him that most monsters don’t need to do much at all; the humans do the work for them, getting very scared by the smallest things. 

He emerges beneath the bed, his view mainly that of a wooden floor with a few neat piles of toys and books. Reaching up, he drags his claws along the underside of the bed. There’s a creak, the child in the bed sitting up. Barclay growls, and gets a small gasp in response. 

“There’s a monster under my bed.” 

Barclay, unsure if the child is speaking to him, replies, “Yes. There is.”

He sniffs, and while there’s a whiff of fear in the room there’s not nearly as much as his teacher said there would be.

“What kind of monster?”

Okay, this wasn’t mentioned either. Human’s weren’t supposed to be this talkative, and also he’s not sure what this one even means by his question.

“Uh, a Barclay?”

“...That sounds like a person name. Is that your name?”

“Yes.”

“I said what kind of monster are you. Are you a sasquatch?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“A chupacabra?”

“I also don’t know what that is.”

“A frogman?”

“I don’t, uh, don’t think so?”

There’s an exasperated huff, “I’m just going to look.”

“No don’t!” Barclay squeaks, trying to make himself smaller. When bare feet hit the floor, he gives up and runs away.

What was that? Why was the human asking so many questions? Is Barclay not scary enough?

The next night, he starts with the growl, hoping that will scare the kid. What he gets is something shining in his eyes, and he just manages to throw up protective shadows to keep his whole head from being seen. 

“Are you going to run away again?” The kid, Joseph, sticks the nighlight further under the bed. He’s on his belly, pajamas covered in faintly glowing UFOs, and frowns when Barclay tosses a higher growl his way. 

“I won’t hurt you. I just want to see a real monster.”

“You, you can’t. It’s not allowed. I’ll get in trouble.”

That same, exasperated noise as Joseph retracts his arm, “Fine, but I still want to know what kind of monster you are. Here” he grabs a large book, opening it and shining the light so Barclay can see the pictures, “tell me when I get to one that looks like you.”

“Okay. You really aren’t scared?”

He shakes his head, face serious, “I don’t think monsters are scary. As long as you’re careful.”

Barclay feels like he should point out that sticking your arm and part of your head under a bed with a monster doesn’t seem all that careful.

“Most monsters are friendly. I think. Except lake monsters.” The boy stiffens, “you’re not a lake monster, are you?”

“No, I don’t live in a lake.”

A sigh of relief, “okay, then we can be friends.”

Barclay likes having friends, and there’s nothing in the rules that say he can’t be friends with his human “okay. We’re friends.”

Joseph smiles, begins turning pages and explaining the pictures in an animated whisper. By the end of the night, they determine Barclay looks most like something called a “bigfoot.”

-----------------------------------------------

“It’s so cute, don’t you think?” Mr. Stern steps back from the half-open door of Joe’s room, taking the stack of laundry his wife hands him, “kid’s almost nine and he still likes reading to his stuffed animals.”

“I don’t think he’s let that stuffed bigfoot you got him out of sight since you bought it. And it’s good for him to practice reading aloud.” She sets the laundry basket down on their bed, “even if he thinks he’s being stealthy by hiding on the other side of the bed.”

-------------------------------

“...the end. Huh, that one was okay. What do you think?” Joseph closes the book, setting down near Barclay’s face. The boy’s sitting up on the floor,  back resting on the side of the bed, with his few stuffed animals arranged across from him, so his parents will think he’s reading to them rather than the very much alive creature behind him.

“I liked the part with the prince.”

“You liked the kissing part?” He sounds amused.

“Kinda. Didn’t you?”

“I like the mystery part more. I like guessing what’s going to happen and seeing if I’m right.”

He’s right almost every time, which Barclay thinks is so cool.

“Thanks for reading to me. Same time tomorrow?’

“Yes. Goodnight, Barclay.” Joseph stifles a laugh when Barclay leans into rub his face against the exposed skin between his pajamas, knowing full well it tickles when he does. 

“Night, Joseph.”

-------------------------------------------------

It’s not that his home, or the monster world, is perfect. Barclay’s met plenty of monsters his age who like to be mean for no good reason. But if what Joseph has been going through the last few days is any indication,  humans really like being mean to each other.

The first night he knew something was wrong was that he nearly spoke before catching on to the fact Mrs. Stern was in the room, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“...you all are starting middle school next year. Unfortunately, people tend to get cliquey around this age.”

“But why me? Why don’t they like me?”

What the heck? Who didn’t like Joseph? He’s smart and funny, he knows lots about monsters and aliens and weird events, he’s a good friend who listens when Barclay talks. 

Barclay doesn’t like being mean, but he will for sure fight whoever is making Joseph so sad. 

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I wish I did. Just...try not to let it get to you, okay? And if it gets worse, you tell me or dad and we’ll try to help.”

When she leaves, Barclay doesn’t know what to say, stomach still bubbling with anger on his friends behalf.

“I don’t really feel like talking.” Joseph whispers. 

“Okay.”

A sniffle, followed by a hand reaching towards the darkened floor, searching for something. Barclay spots the plush bigfoot wedged between the bed and nightstand, grabs it and sets it into Joseph’s hand.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” It doesn’t feel like enough. He wants to make it better somehow. 

“Will you stay until I fall asleep?”

He reaches up, touching the underside of the bed, “Yeah, sure thing.”

The trouble at school has been getting worse, not better. From what Barclay can piece together, Joseph has been labeled a “nerd,” and shunned by kids who were previously friendly for fear of being labeled the same. He doesn’t tell his parents the worst of it; that he confides only in Barclay, who is discovering all the names humans have for people they want to make outcasts.

It’s time for his secret weapon. Barclay spends the afternoon in the kitchen, careful to do all the washing up since that will decrease any scolding he gets for using the oven alone. He makes a batch of cookies big enough for his parents,cousins, aunts, uncles, and anyone else who may pass by in the next two days, all so no one will notice when he takes a few with him up to the human world. 

“Psst, Joseph, come down here a sec.”

His friend appears, mothman pajamas looking a little tear-stained. Barclay slides the plate out to him.

“Where’d these come from?”

“I made them.” He tries not to sound too proud; he did this to cheer Joseph up, not show off, “it seemed like you needed a friend.”

Joseph bites a cookie, smiles for the first time all week. 

“Seems like I’ve got one.”

---------------------------------------------------

“How do I look?”

“From the knees down? Fantastic.”

Joseph laughs, “The door is locked, and I’ll close my eyes. Okay, closed!”

Barclay crawls out from under the bed, breath catching as he gets a good look at Joseph in his prom suit. It’s black, with a blue shirt underneath and a silver tie. With his hair slicked back, he looks like a secret agent, like a movie star, like, like…

Like everything Barclay’s ever wanted.

Man, he hopes Joseph’s boyfriend knows how lucky he is. 

“You look fucking amazing.”

Joseph smiles, eyes still shut, “everything is on straight? No lint?”

“Some on your left shoulder, which I’m not touching unless you want it replaced by fur.”

“Thank you, Barclay. I wish you could come with me.”

“Me too.” Barclay reaches for his cheek, thinks better of it and lowers his arm, “tell me all about it when you get home?”

“Of course.”

-----------------------------------------------

The small white lights in the kitchen are the final touch, and Barclay brushes his hands off, satisfied. At eighteen, most monsters leave home to find or build their own, and Barclay his inherited this small A-frame house from a great-uncle. It needed some touching up before it felt like home, and it took two passes with a cleaning potion to make the mildew smell go away. Now it’s all his. And just in time, too.

His first heat starts tonight, and the general consensus is it’s much easier to deal with in the privacy of your own home than in a family one. It’s also supposed to be better with a partner, but Barclay is flying solo for the foreseeable future. 

What he’s most nervous about is seeing Joseph during it. He doesn’t want to miss a whole week of hanging out, but there's no escaping the fact that if he could have anyone with him during (or after) his heat, it would be his human. 

But he’s got it all figured out; he’ll just ask if they can watch a movie, or maybe even if Joseph will read to him. Then he’ll go home and fuck his hand until he passes out. 

Yeah, this won’t be awkward at all. It’ll all be totally, completely fine. 

---------------------------------------------

Joseph flips to the next page of The Fortean Times, the subscription an eighteenth birthday present from his dad. A slight chill drifts up from beneath the bed, and he smiles. 

“How are you tonight?”

“Good. Uh, what’re you up to?” Barclay’s voice is soft, though ever since it changed that gentle baritone makes regular appearances in Joseph’s fantasies. There was a time, right after his top surgery, where Barclay read to him when he couldn’t sleep from the discomfort, and he had the most lurid dreams of his life from that voice (and maybe the painkillers).

“Reading about a supposed “meat shower.”

“Cool. Uh, um, do you, uh” 

He sets the magazine down, “Are you alright? You sound kind of...tense?” 

(He actually sounds squeakier than usual, but tense seemed the politer choice).

“I’m good.” Is the unconvincing reply. 

“I’m coming down there.”

On his belly, he spots the reflective glint that indicates Barclay’s eyes. They’re definitely wider than normal, and from here his breathing is labored. 

“Shit, you look sick. Do you need tea? Or, um, I have some painkillers?”

“It’s not pain. It’s, uh, it’s a, uh, look,  it’s really, really embarrassing.”

Barclay’s breathing gets louder as Joseph ponders what else it can be. 

“It’s partly your, uh, your smell.”

“Is that your way of saying I need a shower?”

“N-no, it’s my, my way of saying you smell really fucking good.” Barclay’ voice creeps upward, and a possible explanation presents itself. 

“Barclay, are you thinking about eating me?”

“Not in the traditional sense, no.”

He’s certain his own eyes go comically wide.

“Fuck. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I’m, uh, I’m kinda in heat, so I’m like uncomfortably horny and I thought I could handle it and hang out but you smell so nice and I wanna fuck you so much I think I might lose it, so I’m, I’m gonna go, I’m so sorry-”

“Barclay”

“Seriously, I thought I could be chill, it’s not your fault, I’ll come back when it’s over, should be about a week, a miserable week, oh fuck sorry I didn’t mean to say that either.”

“Barclay” Joseph says firmly enough to make the monster stop talking, “I have an idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you, um, do you-” oh, right, he’s not very good at this either. He’s learning to be smooth, but it all tends to evaporate when sex comes into play. He inhales, tries again, “If I sit up on my knees with my hands on the bed and you come behind me, even with my eyes open I won’t see more than maybe your hands and arms.”

“You..you want me to fuck you?”

He sounds so hopeful, and it makes Joseph blush, “Yes, Barclay, I do.”

A low, hungry growl, “Get comfy.”

The sound turns him on so quickly that his pajama pants are wet by the time he gets them off. Toys with the bedspread to calm himself as he whispers, “I’m ready.”

The same growl as something heavy crawls from beneath the bed, growing loud enough to shake the lamp. Thank the lord his parents are gone for the weekend. 

Warm, slightly furry hands drag up the backs of his thighs, “Fuck, look at you. You always look so fucking put-together in your matching pajamas, like you think someone might be watching.”

“Someone has, for over a decade.”

“True.” There’s a zip and a scuff of fabric, then pants and long-sleeve shirt hit the floor in his periphery, “think it’s time I did something else.” He nudges Joseph's leg with his knee, “spread ‘em, babe.”

He gets his legs as wide as he can comfortably go, tenses when the head of a very large cock presses against him. 

“Um, Barclay? H-how much bigger than me are you?”

Barclay’s chin rests on the top of his head as two large hands, at least fifty percent bigger than a human’s, come to cover his own on the bedspread. 

“Oh. Um. Alright then.”

“This still okay?” Barclay noses down through his hair to kiss and nuzzle his neck, “Can stop if you want. I’ll go slow to start, I promise. I, I don’t wanna hurt you, wanna make you feel good.” It’s a borderline whine, laced with sweetness and accompanied by the monster rolling his hips, rubbing his cock along Joseph’s folds.

“Yes, very okay, I, I just need to, um, mentally prepare. I didn’t ever expect my first time doing this would be, um, with you.”

“You’ve never done this before?”

“I’ve had other kinds of sex, just not this.”

Strong, fuzzy arms encircle his waist, Barclay growling even louder as he grinds against him. 

“Mmm, do you like that, big guy? Like the idea of being the first?”

Barclay stops breathing for a moment.

“Oh lord, I’m so sorry, I, I don’t know where that came from, it sounded much better in my headOHokay, okay.” He laughs as Barclay rumbles low, mouthing at his neck, “if you bite just do it below the collar.”

“Yeah, yeah, gonna mark you up, fuck” his cock bumps Joseph’s leg, smearing pre-cum along it, “babe, please, can I fuck you now?”

“Since you asked so nicely yes, you canAHnnnnnnfuckohmyfuckinggod.” He drops forward, head on the mattress as Barclay pushes in. They don’t get far before he winces, pointing at the bedside table, “lube, need lube, please.”

He keeps his eyes on the bed as wooden bangs and a pop reach his ears, Barclay pulling out to slick himself up. 

“That’s like half the bottle, that should be good right?”

Joseph smiles, anticipation rippling up his spine, “There’s only one way to find out.”

The cock is just as overwhelming the second, Barclay building a steady, gradual rhythm of thrusts, going a little further on each one. The shaft is flared, so the deeper it gets, the more Joseph has to open his legs. When his knee slips in a stray bit of lube, Barclay’s hands drop to his thighs once more, keeping him upright.

“God” Barclay’s growls are whimpers now, his teeth tugging his ear and tongue lapping at his neck, “god, Joseph, you feel even better than I thought.”

“Been imagining this a lot big guy?’

“Uh huh.”

He reaches back, the angle awkward as he keeps his head facing forward, but finds Barclay’s cheek, stroking the soft fur, “me tooOOHh, that’s, that’s as far as it can go.”

“Fuck, a third of it is still out.”

“S-sorry”

“No it’s” A kiss to the top of his head “it’s so fucking hot, you’re so fucking perfect and you’re fucking straining to take me, I could fucking split you, gonna fill you up so much and so hard you’re gonna still be dripping when I come back tomorrow”

Now it’s his turn to whimper, the thought of a repeat performance making him dizzy with excitement. The intensity heightens every time Barclay touches him or nestles closer, every time he’s reminded of how big the monster is, how obviously strong. He’s right, he could tear Joseph to pieces if he wanted to. But instead his nose is once again at the base of his neck, praise and sweet, shy promises dripping down his back. 

“Whatever you want babe, whatever you need, it’s yours, wanna take such good care of you, wanna make you mine.”

Joseph wiggles his hips, claws digging into them in reply, “then do it. I’ll tell you to stop if it’s too much.”

The next thrust shoves his bed six inches to the right, Joseph scrambling to hold on as the monster pounds into him. A moan winds its way out of his mouth, punctuated by shouts. Whenever he makes one of those, Barclay chuckles smugly and squeezes his thighs or his ass. 

“That’s it, fuck, make noise for me babe, love hearing you feel good, want everyone to know you’re taken.”

“C-careful what you wish fofFUCK, if we get the cops called on us for this it’ll be mortifying.”

“Don't care, wanna hear you scream.” Claws scrape across his ass.

“AHGODyes, I know big guy, but if I have, have to explain that to my parents, I’m revoking your fucking privileges.”

A growl, teeth on his neck, “You wouldn’t dare”

“I would, so behaAAAAveemphh” He laughs into the palm now across his mouth, Barclay grunting with effort as he fucks him fast. A howlgrowlpurr floods the room and Joseph gasps, not anticipating the feeling of Barclay coming inside him.

The monster stays put, but loosens his grip and drops his hand in favor of roaming his fingers across the human’s body.

“Did, did that do it?” He wants to turn his had, wants to be able to see the answer on Barclays face, wants to do silly things like kiss him and gaze into his eyes as he comes down.

“Only kinda. I, uh, I wanna go again and this time I really, really, really wanna make you cum.”

He takes Barclay’s right hand, sliding it down to his dick, “Here, let me demonstrate.”

As he guides the slightly rough fingers at the correct pressure and angle, Barclay purrs louder and begins thrusting. Gradually, they’re surrounded by the twin, obscene sounds of fingers on slick skin and Barclay’s cock fucking his own cum back into the human.

Once he gets the gets the hang of the motion, Barclay nudges his hand out of the way to stroke him off alone, working his fingers in time with hips.

“I love feeling you like this, Joseph, fuck, please, wanna make you cum every day.”

“Pace yourself, big guy, f-focus on making me cum now, ohOHlord, fuck, fuck yes, like that, likethatlikethatohgod.” He slumps across the bed as the orgasm ripples through him, holds on for dear life as Barclay lets out a proud yip and proceeds to fuck him so vigorously he’s amazed he doesn’t chip a tooth. 

This time, Barclay pulls out as soon as he finishes, cum dripping down Joseph's thighs onto a spot on the floor he will definitely be cleaning before tomorrow. Warm, furry weight leaves his back, replaced by Barclay’s fingers rubbing his shoulders. 

“Um how, how did I do? Did you like it?”

“Was amazing.” He slurs into the pillows, “y’so good, Barclay.”

That rumbling purr again, a kiss on his cheek, “Close your eyes?’

He does, the thwip of the covers being turned down followed by strong arms scooping him up, setting him on the sheets and, after a short trip under the bed, cleaning off his legs before helping him back into his pajama pants. 

“Joseph I, um, I just wanted to, um, to say thank you. I never thought you’d want me to do that with you and , and I just can’t believe you like me that.”

Feeling round, he finds his hand and holds it, “I wanted it more than I was ready to admit. I want you.”

“Can I stay and talk for awhile? Under the bed?”

“Of course, big guy.”

The next week is filled with normal days and strenuous, wonderful nights. Barclay fucks him into the bed once more, and when his parents are back in the house he and his monster get creative, using blankets on the floor, a makeshift blindfold, and a white noise machine. On one occasion, Joseph lays on his back on the bed, eyes shut and legs over Barclay’s shoulders as he eats him out with muffled sounds of joy. 

When Friday night rolls around, Barclay surprises him. 

“Babe? You feel like coming under the bed?”

He does, though he only fits through whatever magic of science allows Barclay to be there without being smooshed (or tipping his bed sideways). It’s dark, but the monster takes his hand, guiding him into a warmly lit room with a large bed, a bookcase, and a floor strewn with cookbooks. The longer he looks, the more he notices the area by the bed is dotted with candles and flowers, the nearby wall hung with little heart-shaped lights. 

“I’m not supposed to be seen in the human world. But I didn’t see a rule about being seen in my own.”

Joseph turns.

Standing behind him is a figure with reddish brown fur, a humanish face, pointed ears, claws, and rather big feet. He’s dressed in a red flannel shirt and soft looking pants, deep brown eyes lit up like a supernova as he looks at the human. 

“What do you think?” He rubs his arm with a shy smile. 

“I think I’m the luckiest human in the world if you’ve been under my bed all these years.” Stepping forward, he takes the monsters hands, grinning up at him, “and you’re even hotter than I was picturing when we were, um, fucking this week.”

A blush is just visible under the fur on his cheeks, “aw, thanks babe. Both for that and for letting me spend my heat with you. That’s, uh, part of why I wanted you to come down here. After all that time in bed, I figured we should have a real date, even if it’s just a stay-in one. I meant all that stuff I said, Joseph; I wanna be so good to you, you have no idea.”

He raises an eyebrow, “I have some.”

“True. So, what do you say? Up for a first date?”

“Yes.” He tilts his head up, guides Barclay down by the chin and kisses him with the full force of years of accumulated affection, “but only after our first kiss.”