#rain master's hat

[benevolenterrancy]

no rest for the wicked

(part of a larger project i'm working on, but i liked how this one looked on its own)

[irldrfan]

yet another rain code meme

[numbuh424]

now how are you gonna put a megane dogboy in your game and expect me to be normal about it???

[shadowdemon-gd]

If you like anything here, we should be mutuals (this took way too long to make)

[lilydysstuff]

A kiss in the rain 🌑🦑🌧️

(Im too lazy to colour some parts black bc it's so late here and I have to go upstairs 😭)

Edit: I've finally had some time to put some black colour to some parts jsjsks ( I also added more lightings to it)

[rosenbergi]

Interesting how at least some detectives can use their Forensic Fortes at any time. Makes you wonder if they use them for daily life stuff.

I think so! I feel like Desuhiko and Fubuki in particular would be very fast and loose with how they use their Forensic Fortes, for example Fubuki seems like the type to rewind time for something silly like forgetting her keys.

But aside from that, I get the impression Pucci and Aphex don’t have an off switch on theirs? It makes me think they’re always using them without thinking about it, but that’s just speculation.

[yoshi-self-ships]

Seeing Master Detective Archives: RAINCODE makes me want Kiibo being inspired by Shuichi and becoming an Ultimate Detective himself

[professorsnape394]

DAY 13: Unexpected Encounters

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Rating: 🥰

Prompt: Journey

Summary: Snape is interrupted by a beautiful stranger on the journey to back to Hogwarts.

A/N: Feel like we're long over due for a cute lil fluffy piece, so here ya go :-) Comment if you're interested in a possible part 2 to this one?

Warnings:  None.

Word Count: 1977

Credits to Gif Creator.

The journey to Hogwarts was one of the few things that brought peace to Severus’ life. As a child, it meant finally escaping the wrath of his abusive father. As a teen, it meant getting to see his best friend after months spent apart. And as an adult, it meant escaping the loneliness of Spinner’s End where memories of his childhood still haunted him. Severus often spent the majority of the ride reading, occasionally turning his attention out the window to appreciate the scenic views of the Scottish Highlands; it was his last moment of peace before another year at Hogwarts spent surrounded by insufferable children and prying colleagues.

It was known by this point in his career that he liked to keep to himself on the train journey, and pretty much any other time, so the other professors granted him his privacy and left him to occupy a carriage alone. Which is why he was shocked to be interrupted such a short time into the journey.

The doors to the cabin shot open, rattling riskily in the frame. They parted to reveal an attractive young woman; dripping wet and gasping breathlessly.

“Oh, thank God.” She exhaled, shuffling her single suitcase through the doors, quickly abandoning it in the middle of the carriage, sparing no thought for Severus’ personal space.

“I’ve never seen a train so busy before. This is the first free carriage I’ve found today.”

“Did it never cross your mind that maybe there is a reason for that?” Severus droned, not bothering to look up from his book.

Ignoring his underhanded comment, Y/N immediately plonked herself down opposite him.

Barely a beat had passed before she started shedding herself of the sodden layers that had been protecting her from the adverse weather conditions outside. Hat, scarfs, jumpers and a thick woollen coat were quickly discarded to the space next to her. As she fumbled about with her gloves, Severus took the opportunity to evaluate her properly.

Despite seeming breathless, presumably from running late for the train, her pearly white smile had not yet faltered.

The rain had drowned her hair; soft waves becoming strings of tight curls, dripping puddles onto her previously dry shirt. Her pale cheeks flushed red from the harshness of the cold air. But what ultimately drew Severus in the most was her sparkling pale blue eyes, dazzling him with their glimmering curiosity as she too scrutinised him.

He arched a single brow in her direction, shaking himself from the daze she had induced in him.  

“Y/N.” She held her hand out for him to take.

 “Sorry?”

“That’s my name; Y/N.”

Severus’ eyes darted between the woman and the pages of his book, debating whether to engage. With a sigh he folded shut his book, but did not bother to accept her hand.

“A pleasure to meet you.” He sneered sarcastically.

“Ah, so you must be Severus.” She grinned. “The potion’s master I believe, I was always good potions in school.”

Snape’s interest piqued.

“How do you know who I am?”

“A family member told me.”

“The same one you are off to visit?”

“And how do you know I am visiting anyone?” It was her turn to raise an eyebrow at him.

“The size of your suitcase; you don’t plan on staying long.”

“Maybe I’m just a new professor who knows how to pack light.”

“You are not a professor.” He stated matter-of-factly, practically scoffing at the insinuation.

“I’m offended. I could be a professor if I wanted to.”

“You’re too young.” Severus looked her up and down; none of his colleagues looked like her.

“And what age were you when you first started teaching?” She challenged, folding her arms across her chest.  

Snape smirked. “You know a lot about me, when I know so little of you.”

“I do my research.” She smirked

“So, are you going to tell me?” He quickly side-tracked the conversation.

“Tell you what?”

“Who you’re visiting.”

“No.”

Severus shot her a questioning glance.

“Once I tell you, you’ll look at me differently.” Y/N explained.

“And how am I looking at you now?”

“…Curiously.”

Severus shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“I’m curious who you could possibly be visiting who would not also be accompanying you on the train.”

“You’ll find out soon enough, but I do not wish to rush the process.”

Severus sighed, sensing this was not an issue the woman would be moved on.

“I do not believe that a person’s parentage dictates who they are. Whatever I think of you now will not change once I discover who your relation is.”

“You say that now, but it’s not something you can control. It happens to everyone when they find out who I am.” The look in her eyes told him this was an issue that really bothered her.

Snape leaned back in his chair, eying the woman inquisitively. He found himself wanting to know everything about her, but was too nervous to ask anything at all.

Y/N broke eye contact first, hunching herself over to get access to her suitcase.

“What are you doing?” He questioned, watching an array of multi-coloured fabrics spill out of the trunk; his eyes caught on a particularly lacy garment before he averted his gaze, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“I’m looking forrrr… this!” She brandished a small tin box at him.

“And that is?”

“Cookies.” She grinned. “I never go on a long journey without baking myself a batch; their delicious, and a great conversation starter.”

She thrust the container out to him.

“I believe we have already started our conversation.”

“But their delicious.” She repeated, exaggerating her words. Severus’ eyes dropped to her peachy lips.

Sighing, he gave in and accepted the box from her.

“What are they?”

“Oatmeal and raisin.”

“You do not seem like an oatmeal and raisin type of girl.”

“And you do not seem like a triple chocolate chunk kind of guy. So be grateful I had some ingredients that I needed to get rid of. And I might have eaten all the chocolate myself before I had the chance to bake them.” She blushed.

Severus couldn’t help himself from smirking. The embarrassed look on her face refreshing to him after pinning her as an overconfident know-it-all. Plus, she looked adorable.

Her eyes widened at him.

“Are you smiling?” She gawked.

“I’ve been known to do that occasionally.”

“That’s not what I’ve been told.”

“Then you do not know everything, Miss …?” He waited for her to fill in the blank, she only shook her head in response.

“Why are you smiling.”

Severus thought for a moment if he wanted to expose himself for thinking she was adorable. It was too soon to show all of his cards so willingly, but he didn’t want to lie to the woman, so…

“Oatmeal and Raisin are my favourite cookies.” He admitted, finally plucking one from the box.

“Then the universe was on your side, Severus Snape. It’s destiny.”

Severus was beginning to think she wasn’t entirely wrong about that.

~

Chucking the half-eaten box of cookies to her, Y/N showed no intention of closing her suitcase and removing it from the middle of the floor. It had quickly become chaos in their carriage and it was slowly starting to get on Severus’ nerves.

“Does this chaos come naturally to you or is it a learned skill?” He quipped.

Y/N’s jaw dropped at his audacity.

“Is my mess bothering you, Severus?”

“It bothered me when you first barged your way in here. Now, it’s borderline unbearable to look at.” His eyes flicked back to the piece of black lingerie sticking out the side of her case.

The young woman bent over once more, tucking all of her garment away and finally zipped the case shut. She neatly folded her piles of scarfs and coat, placing the cookie tin squarely on top.

“Happy now?”

“I’d be more inclined to say yes, if 90% of the floor wasn’t still occupied by your suitcase. There are compartments for them, you know?”

“I know.”

“So, you’re actively choosing to be a nuisance?”

She blushed again, this time avoiding complete eye contact with him.

“I can’t reach, okay? And even if I could it’s far too heavy for me to lift on my own.”

Severus grunted, satisfied with her excuse.

He stood to his full height, grabbing the handle of her case with ease.

“What are you doing?”

“Clearing some space.”

“You’re helping me?” She said, shocked, watching him lift her suitcase into the overhead compartment.

“I’m putting my mind at ease. I cannot sit for much longer in such cramped confines.”

“Strong as well as smart.” She teased. “You’re not at all the man I imagined.”

“Don’t speak too soon. Your opinion will surely change when we arrive at Hogwarts.”

“Why would it change?”

“Because I am not the man you think I am.”

“But you are the man you have shown me to be.”

“Don’t be so sure of that.”

“I’m very sure. You are more this man, than the man I have heard stories about. You have entertained me this entire journey when you simply could have chosen to ignore me. You gain nothing by helping me.”

“You’re wrong.” He raised the last quarter of his cookie to her, before popping it into his mouth with a smirk.

“I don’t care who you show me you are when we get to Hogwarts Severus. It will not change my opinion of you.”

“What is your opinion of me.” He couldn’t help but ask.

“I like you. You’re a good man, behind all of those scowls and sneers.”

Severus wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He had never illicit this reaction from a stranger before, in fact most people didn’t even bother to introduce themselves now adays. His reputation often proceeded him, in the worst possible way.

“Tell me who you’re visiting.” He ventured again.

“No.”

“Why not.”

“I told you; I don’t want- “

“You don’t want me to look at you differently. But how can you still say that after everything you have just said to me.”

“Because it is not me that you’re forming an opinion of. My last name carries more weight than my personality could ever compete with.”

Severus didn’t push the subject anymore, after all, he would find out shortly. The train wasn’t far off its final destination, and Snape found himself wanting to savour what little time they had left together before they seemingly became two entirely different people.

They chatted about a wide variety of subjects ranging from Potions, to the views outside, to what else Y/N loved to bake. Talking to her was easy, like playing a game of tennis; one person set up the serve for the other to rebuttal with perceived ease, each of them trying their best to throw the other off their game, challenging them both the new heights they might never have otherwise reached.

When they pulled into the station Severus helped Y/N out with her case, allowing her to pile back on her layers of protection from the cold. They stepped off the train in line with each other, unsure of how to begin to part ways.

“There you are!” Minerva McGonagall’s familiar voice screeched through the crowds of excitable students. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you; your grandfather wanted me to escort you to the castle. Let’s go Miss Dumbledore.”

Y/N stared into Severus eyes, looking truly defeated. Severus nodded simply in understanding.

“Will I see you again?” She dared to ask.

“I hope so, Miss Dumbledore.” Severus smiled. “I enjoyed getting to know the real you.”

Y/N beamed up at the Potion’s Master, shaking his hand goodbye.

Severus watched on as she disappeared through crowds of children and the steam of the train’s engine.

He really hoped he would see her again.

.

.

.

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel @lizlil @entirelymesmerising @mikariell95 @snapefiction @a-queen-and-her-throne @amazingzou @peridot-pineapple @snapesno1thighrider @kittenlittle24 @forfaehou @caseydoodles98

[kyouka-supremacy]

BSD Anthologies Masterlist

I couldn't find a comprehensive (and with still working links) masterlist of the translated anthology chapters so. Here we go! Biggest shoutout to this other masterlist by @/yokohama-drip for most of the chapter references and to bsd-bibliophile for chapters 7 and 12 of the first and second anthologies. Titles translation credits go to the bsd wiki. Happy reading!

Edit: Thank you so much @amythedemisimp for the precious additions!!!

1-5 raws

First Anthology -Rei-

Don't Get a Stomachache to Gain a Friend by Hideki

The Things I Hate, the Things I Like by Ichi Kotoko

The Devil Comes and Takes Care by KanaiNeco

Kenji 100% by Enya Uraki

The Detective Agency's Manju Incident by Ui Kashima

A Quiz During Work by Mito Aoi

Karl's Resentment by Tsubata Nozaki /// alternative translation

The Things I Like by Con Kitora

Me and the Cake and Sometimes the Pug by Kazuki Tōgō

Jun'ichirō Tanizaki's Suffering by Akamaru

Fortune-telling Will Bring Good Luck by Yūto Masagishi

Icy Weather by Tam Chashibu

What is a Partner...? by Akaza Samamiya

Second Anthology -Hana-

The Detective Agency and the Port Mafia's Holidays by Mikan Aka

Time Sale is a Battlefield by Guru Mizoguchi

Q's Stroll Day by Kazusa Subaru

Osamu Dazai Quiz Tournament by Hinoki Kino

Ruler! Fitzgerald's Room by KanaiNeco

Thirty-two. Episode Five by Kakashi Tano

Ichiyō Higuchi's Off Duty Top Secret Mission by Ataru Hida

A Restaurant with Many Literary Masters by Ko Nikaido

A Timid Person's Day by Masahiro Jinno

Hot Pots and Holidays by Sho Kimiduka

The Tiger's Repayment by Kotaro

Sweet Outing by Yuzuru Kuzukiri /// alternative translation

Bungos' Joint Social Gathering by Hideki

Stray Dogs' Lucky Spot Disagreement by Noka Nogami

Third Anthology -Rin-

Mother by Hideki /// alternative translation

The Mafia Inadvertently Read a Novel Written on a Whim and Reincarnated in a Parallel Universe by Hinoki Kino /// alternative translation

As You Wear It by Akira Hirahara /// alternative translation

The Devil's Automatic Door by Nanora /// alternative transaltion

How to Find Happiness by Kanae Ikushima /// alternative translation

Hello, Again Winter Dreams. by Pyaa /// alternative translation

The Visitor in the Rain by Togekinoko /// alternative translation

Because My Senior's Healthcare is Also My Job by Roku Sakura /// alternative translation

Good Weather, Cat Storm by Osawa /// alternative translation

Breakfast Situation by Miki Daichi /// alternative translation

Elise-chan, a Smartphone Application by KanaiNeco /// alternative translation

Q's Suffering by Hiko Nekome /// alternative translation

Tiger, Sometimes Cat by Taichi Miya /// alternative translation

The Port Mafia's Medical Check-up by Sakurana Haru

With a Hat, a Man and a Beef Bowl by Oda

Fourth Anthology -Akatsuki-

Poe and Ranpo and Enter and Black Tea by Imaru Adachi /// alternative translation

Apple Demon by Nykken

A Little Break by Siroisora

Exciting Grab Bag by Toriyasu

All Quiet on the Black Cloth Front by Mari Araki

Hirotsu-san's Coffee Shop by Yashino Ayashiro

The Client is a Cute Ghost by Otakumi

The Little Visitor in the Rain by Togekinoko

Fully Automatic Suicide Machine by Zero Akabane

Why Did You Come to Japan? by KanaiNeco

The Story of Kunikida Falling Asleep by Saru Hashino

A Hunting Dogs' Holiday by Hinoki Kino

Infernal Day by Asuka Keigen

The Decision is an Oblate that Enwraps the Pain of Life by Hideki

Fifth Anthology -Kanade-

Masterlist by @/zilinks

Sixth Anthology -Mutsumi-

Given to You Based on Your Level and Love by KanaiNeco

Detective Agency Radio by Yu Kira

GET UP LUCY!! by Kabotya

Poe, Wine and the Setting Sun by Imaru Adachi

Shindafuri Dai Sakusen by Yuri Tsukushiro

Hanachidori by iyutani

What Style Are You? by Kiyo Hasui

'Hitori' yori 'hanbun' by Neno

The Angel's Rest by Mari Araki

Mottomo Erai Egoisuto by Mutsuki Higashioji

Magomusume Sakusen, Zokkō-chū ni Tsuki by Eku Hachida

Boo no Yū by Asato Konami

Do S! Erisu-chan!! by Kakeru Sora

Young Ranpo Wants to Be Praised by Tsuki Anmi (incomplete)

[artsarasp]

Did you do the vampire sy wip yet? :0

Really curious about that one!

- O

I did not! The vampire SY wip is something I started to write at 2 AM when I was unable to sleep and after bothering @drivebypainter for a prompt!

It's supposed to be pre-canon, Vampire SY is off doing his own thing and accidentally turns poor SJ into a vampire, WHOOPS- I guess I adopted an angry teen now??

Have a peek featuring SY being like "I have a conscience!" when actually he's just a little in denial and a picky eater.

Shen Yuan forgot a long time ago what it was like to not be hungry. The feeling of being completely full was as foreign as the warmth of the sun on his skin since his reincarnation.  He adjusted his large straw hat as he walked. The thick rain was dripping from a few holes in it and his clothes were soaked through but it didn't bother him. Most physical sensations didn't bother him anymore. Except hunger, of course.  He couldn't blame anyone for it, honestly! (Well, Maybe he could blame Great Master Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky for being an unimaginative piece of shi-) Being a knockoff Vampire in the prologue sections of a bad novel was already a challenge but his morally Imposed hunger strike was a torture of his own making.  Shen Yuan could have gone full evil vampire on any poor soul he encountered but that would have just drawn a HUGE target on his back for cultivators to aim at! He also couldn't help but feel horrible at the thought of just killing innocent people! You’d think being reborn as a bloodsucking demon would dampen the whole empathy thing, but no! He had modern sensibilities and a conscience! So he tried not to eat most of the time. Unless he really had to.  Or unless he had a perfect victim at hand. Wu Yanzi was just that. Scum.  Shen Yuan stepped off the beaten path and into the thick vegetation. He could hear his future victim talking with someone. His pace quickened immediately.  Wu Yanzi was a criminal and a murderer. Shen Yuan had no intention of playing hero as much as he would have loved to play the part of the righteous cultivator if things had been different right now he just wanted to eat something without feeling guilty about it.  “You useless thing!” The sharp sound of a slap stopped Shen Yuan in his tracks.  “Is this why I took you as a disciple? What a fucking waste. “ His prey said.

[chibinasuu]

Steady as She Goes | Jinbe & Reader

Part of the Thousand Sunny Slice-of-Life Series

Find the other parts with the rest of the Straw Hats here

Summary: You and Jinbe share a quiet moment at the helm in the calm after the storm Word count: 965  Tags: one-shot, pure fluff, domestic bliss onboard the sunny, platonic straw hat pirates x reader, no use of y/n, GN but written with F!Reader in mind

“Zoro! Sanji! Reef the mainsail!” Nami shouted above the howling winds, “Jinbe, head forty-five degrees starboard! We’ll be out of this soon!”

The crew moved in a practiced manner, almost on autopilot. This was not the first, and definitely not the worst storm they’ve ever experienced in the Grand Line. 

Salty sprays of seawater mixed with the pouring rain soon had you drenched as your fingers deftly worked to secure the rigging, tugging on the ropes to make sure they were fastened correctly. 

“Huge waves incoming! Brace yourselves!” Someone shouted, the cacophony of wind, thunder, and rain so loud that you could barely register the command. 

You tried to readjust your grip on the ropes, hoping to get a stronger hold, but before you could do that, the Sunny crashed onto an oncoming wave, bringing a flood of salt water onto the deck. The strong impact lifted your body a few inches off the ground, and you felt your heart drop as the rope was brutally torn away from your grasp. 

The slippery floor didn’t help as you tried to regain your footing, and another lurch of the ship sent you sliding across the deck. You closed your eyes, bracing for impact, but it never came. Instead, you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist and pull you to your feet. 

You open your eyes to find Jinbe — one arm supporting you, whilst his other hand wrangled the helm in an effort to keep it steady. 

“Is the rigging secured?!” Jinbe roared.

You could only nod, your body still shaking from the shock. 

Jinbe gave your back a firm pat then barked loudly, “Then get inside! Now!”

You half-crawled, half-stumbled your way into the dining room, where you found Chopper and Robin.

Dozens of hands were sprouting from various surfaces, working to secure loose items in the room.

Chopper fussed over you when you staggered through the door, “You’re bleeding! Let me grab the first aid kit!”

In the heat of things, you didn’t realize the friction from the coarse ropes had caused ribbons of blood to flow from your palms. You sat quietly as Chopper bandaged your hands, trying to be as gentle and careful as possible amid the violent rocking of the ship. 

After a while, the movement of the ship gradually slowed to a gentle sway as the Thousand Sunny escaped from the storm safely, thanks to Nami’s expert directions and Jinbe’s masterful steering.

The Straw Hats were all slumped on the chairs of the dining table, huddled with towels, clearly exhausted from their brush with the harsh weather. Well, everyone except Jinbe, who insisted on remaining at the helm to readjust the ship’s course and monitor its bearing amid the shifting winds. Sanji poured steaming cups of tea for the crew to warm up their bodies, and you offered to take one to your helmsman. 

You found Jinbe at the helm, hands fixed on the wheel and eyes on the horizon.

“Hi, Jinbe.” You said, alerting him of your presence. 

Jinbe smiled gently at you, “How are your hands?”

“Oh, they’re fine. Chopper patched them up nicely.” You offered him the tea, “Thanks for saving me earlier. I would’ve hurt more than my hands if it wasn’t for you.”

He took the cup, taking a sip before saying, “I apologize for raising my voice at you.”

You shook your head, “I know you were just looking out for me. It was me who made a mistake.”

He chuckled, “Mistakes happen, kid. And sometimes it wasn’t even your fault – just bad luck.”

Jinbe gulped down his tea, put down his empty cup, and repositioned his hands back on the wheel. You both stood in silence, eyes on the open sea. You turned toward Jinbe and observed his unmoving stance, firm and steady. After a while of him staying still as a rock, you wondered aloud, “Does it ever get boring? Manning the helm when the weather is calm like this?”

Jinbe guffawed at your frank question, “Once you’ve been sailing as long as I do, kid, boring is good. You’ll learn to appreciate the quiet moments.” He gestured for you to come closer, “Wanna take her for a spin?”

You excitedly nodded, never really having a chance to take the helm before. 

Jinbe guided your hands and placed them in the proper position on the wheel. He pointed at the middle needle of the log pose, “That’s the one we’re following right now.” 

“Now, just keep her steady.” He instructed you, “Feel the winds. It will try to pull us off course, and when that happens, you will need to guide Sunny to stay on the right track.”

You turned the wheel experimentally but didn’t feel the ship shift its direction. You were about to turn it further when Jinbe’s hand stopped you, “Patience. Sunny is a big ship, it takes a little time for her to listen to your commands.”

True to his word, a few seconds later, the Sunny slowly altered its heading according to your will, turning slightly away from where the Log Pose’s needle was pointing. You glowed in delight at your successful attempt, before turning the wheel in the opposite direction to return the ship to its original course. 

Jinbe laughed, “You’ll make a fine helmsman!”

You relinquished the helm back to Jinbe and stood beside him, basking in the orange glow of the setting sun and reveling in the calm after the storm. 

No words were spoken between the two of you after that, but the silence was a comfortable one.

Under Jinbe’s guidance, the Thousand Sunny sailed over the waves, inching forward toward your next destination. You couldn’t quiet your heartbeat as it pounded in anticipation of what adventure your crew would find next.

Find the other parts with the rest of the Straw Hats here

[rina-teatia]

Food and porn (18+)

Gallagher is a humble London bartender with a rich martial arts background. Boothill is a master criminal and scoundrel. They can't seem to have anything in common... except kinks.

these are not my arts, but my friend's with whom we had rp by this story! you can subscribe to his social networks (a friend has agreed to publish the art)

X: https://x.com/ahhswan

DA: https://www.deviantart.com/drasterod

tg: https://t.me/drisnyastanOD

Pairing: Boothill x Gallagher

Tags: Human Boothill, Dom Boothill, Weight Gain, Food Kink, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Food Sex, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Fat Fetish, Fat all

Words: 2,619

The sky over London was habitually covered with clouds. It was evening, about seven o'clock, but the bad weather had made it dark outside. The first tentative drops hit the cobblestones of the streets before the downpour hit the roofs.

Gallagher grimaced at the spectacle through the small window of his bar. He lit a cigar and muttered something like an old man's `huuuuʼ though he wasn't old enough for that yet. A downpour is a shitty thing. Usually even the most avid drinkers in the rain prefer to drink at home rather than drag themselves to a bar. In short, there was nothing economically advantageous about this situation.

His leg, wounded in an old battle, had started whimpering a couple hours ago, heralding rain, and still didn't want to settle down. Gallagher smoked and read the papers. Scotland Yard was reporting again on a mysterious burglar who had already robbed several pawnshops and jewelry stores. The message was terribly familiar, moreover, Gallagher even knew the criminal personally, but he was in no hurry to write letters to the police. After all, the robber was...

“What a weather, partner!” A large figure wrapped in a red, worn poncho walked into the bar. A wide black hat was pulled over his eyes, and half his face was hidden by a red handkerchief. The man's mud-splattered boots shuffled across the floor, sticking out of chaps that were equally muddy near the end of his pants. The man tossed his long black-and-white hair back and grinned, pulling off his handkerchief. “You weren't expecting me?”

“God, why aren't you home?” Gallagher sighed heavily, setting aside the newspaper and slowly standing up.

“The rain washes away the odors! No bloodhound can smell me. By the way, this is for you.” The man chuckled and put into Gallagher's hands a handmade gold watch on a chain with a cover inlaid with small stones. The man grimaced as he looked at the gift. “Pour me a bourbon, dear.”

“Boothill, you're insufferable. Lock the door, damn it.” Gallagher stood behind the bar and pulled out a bottle of bourbon with a heavy sigh. Boothill removed his hat and poncho, spreading them out on a nearby stool, and adjusted his vest, which was tight against his round belly.

Well, they were notorious old lovers who never seemed to be able to be together. Gallagher had worked for Scotland Yard as a detective in the past, before the leg injury that had forced him into early retirement, he'd been a top-notch bloodhound. Now the old dog was working in a bar and trying to forget his past glorious life.

Boothill, on the other hand, was a hardened criminal. He had come from the New World to good old England for a new life, but his language was sharper than his nine-millimeter ammunition, and no one was in a hurry to hire a foreigner with a nasty American accent. He could have written a book called `Why Men Killʼ but it would have had all the pages written in the short and succinct `MASSACREʼ in big letters.

Gallagher happened to own Boothill's secret when he almost turned him in to the constables. The old policeman still had his powder in the bottle, and perhaps if it hadn't been for Boothill's eloquence, he'd be hanging from the gallows right now....

“Your bourbon, as usual, is the worst stuff I've ever tasted.” Boothill smiled and squinted one green eye that was visible from beneath his bangs.

“Why do you drink it?”

“Hell if I know... I could drink diesel or kerosene if I wanted to.” He wiped his mouth with his hand and grinned through his shark teeth, glaring at Gallagher. “We really haven't seen each other in a long time. You've gotten even fatter, I see.”

Boothill reached across the bar and playfully poked the bartender in the belly. Gallagher rolled his eyes.

“I could say the same about you, Mr. Robber. At this rate, you won't fit through any bank window or sewer manhole.”

Boothill chuckled, slapping himself on the thigh. He grabbed the bottle of bourbon and tipped more liquid into his glass before greedily chugging it down.

“Son of a bitch! You're damn right I am! How about a bet?!” The cowboy held out his hand for Gallagher to shake. “You win, I become your pet kitty and never rob anyone again, just like you always wanted. And if I win – you'll like it too. But that's later. Agreed?!”

“What's it gonna take?” Gallagher put his hand to his cheek. He wasn't in a hurry to agree to shady deals.

“Shoot that deer in the eye.” Boothill drew his heavy American revolver and twirled it playfully in the air. “Don't you think so, Mr. Sherlock Holmes? Have you forgotten how to hold a gun yet?”

Gallagher followed his gaze. It was about the trophy deer head on the far wall of the bar. The room was elongated in length, and the end of the room extended quite far from the bar. Gallagher calculated the distance and the target. Not an easy task, of course... But he had a better chance than Boothill, sober as he was. He was on his third glass of bourbon. The idea of making him stay home was very appealing. Normally, Boothill lived with him on a raiding basis, like an ancient Viking - looted and gone on his way. In their case, though, he fucked and ate all the food. That's why he'd been blown up to the size of a medium-sized boar. Gallagher offered to move in with him a long time ago, but Boothill apparently liked living in a basement with rats and fighting in a dump with raccoons for half a hot dog.

“All right. Go ahead and shoot.” Gallagher snorted and turned his eyes to Boothill. He burped and shoved the revolver into his lover's hand.

“Ladies first!”

It was foolish to argue with him, so, rolling his eyes, Gallagher accepted the weapon. The revolver was indeed heavy, with a carved wooden handle and a graceful, thin barrel. Gallagher remembered how constables were taught to shoot. You take aim, point the muzzle straight at the point - the eye of a deer, freeze, hold your breath, pull the trigger without jerking your hand, and!..

There was a loud pop of gunfire in the bar. When the small cloud of smoke and powder cleared, Gallagher looked at his target. The bullet had entered the deer's forehead.

He missed.

“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Boothill laughed when he saw the result of the shooting. “Is that what they taught you at Scotland Yard?! No wonder I'm still alive! Those sons of bitches are total assholes!” He resolutely took his revolver and slid in next to Gallagher. “Out of my way, senior citizen. Daddy's in the building. I'll show you how to handle my gun.”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Gallagher grimaced and crossed his arms over his chest. While Boothill took aim, he picked up his glass and took a sip. Boothill was right-it was nasty. At that moment a shot rang out. Gallagher shuddered with surprise: he was sure the tipsy Boothill would take fifteen minutes to aim. The bullet stuck out proudly in place of the deer's eye.

“Ha! Well, snatch?” Boothill shoved Gallagher in the side, chuckling happily. “You lost me a wish!”

“What?! How did you do that?!” Gallagher even stepped closer, not believing his eyes. How does Boothill do that?! Sick bastard.

“You can't beat talent.” The cowboy smirked smugly, took the unfinished glass of bourbon from him and ʼclinkʼ with his revolver.

“What do you want?” Gallagher sourly returned to the bar and propped his arms on his chest, leaning against it. He watched Boothill grimly. He glared at him. Gallagher stood up so well that his thick chest was literally poking out of his shirt, forming a lush cleavage. Boothill yanked at his half-unfastened tie and grinned.

“I want those fat tits first. Them, and also to feed you to your heart's content.” He rose from his seat and licked his lips. He pulled his tie back on, tightening it around the stranger's neck in a tight loop. Gallagher gritted his teeth, but made no attempt to resist. His cheeks, overgrown with dark stubble, trembled in a blush. Boothill swung easily over the bar and got right up to the man. One of the cowboy's palms slapped him hard across his stomach, pushing his shirt up cheekily. Boothill gagged him with a wet kiss, wrapping his tie around his hand and nearly strangling Gallagher with it.

“You asshole. Wandering around, and now you think I'm going to give it to you like an obedient whore?” The bartender breathed heavily, his hands loosening the pressure of his tie a little.

“'Come on, sweetheart. You're not a whore, you're my dear partner. You didn't like the watch? You know, you got off easy on that bet! I can already feel how hungry you are for... everything.” Boothill kissed him again and gave him a little distance. “Come on, be a good girl, sit tight, I'll be quick. I hope your pantries are stocked with snacks as usual?” He laughed and opened one of the doors to the staff room. This wasn't the first time Boothill had been here, so he felt right at home. “Wow! Damn you're a hoarding old bear!”

Gallagher slumped weakly in his chair as he watched Boothill rummage through the pantry and rattle dishes. The bar did indeed offer not only booze, but quite a few appetizers as well. Gallagher was never in a hurry to cook during his shift, so he kept his own convenience foods in the freezers; mostly meat, but some freezable meals as well. It was easy enough to heat them up on the fire or throw them in hot oil, and then serve them immediately to guests. The quality didn't suffer much, though, so for the unsophisticated average person, it was fine. People came to the bar to drink, not to eat, so no one turned up their noses.

Boothill had gutted the stock almost completely. To be honest, Gallagher was afraid to go in there, because the pantry and the adjoining kitchen were rattling, hissing and clinking with metal and plates. Gallagher was well aware that he was about to be thoroughly fed. It was another unusual aspect of their relationship. The bartender lowered his gaze to his stomach, resting softly on his lap and pulling up the buttons of his vest. In his youth, he'd been a slender and muscularly handsome constable, the rare sort of man. But after his injury and retirement... Well, he'd let himself relax, sought solace in food and drink, hence the slight fullness. And he never thought anyone would like it. What's more; he'd like it on someone else, too. However, Boothill always knew how to surprise him. In fighting, shooting, appetite, sex; the cowboy's possibilities were endless.

“Waiting?” Boothill returned to the bar, purring something under his breath and carrying a cart full of greasy appetizers. His only visible eye gleamed predatorily, as did his sharp teeth. Gallagher's stomach rumbled-not from hunger, but rather from excitement.

“Who's going to pay for all this?” Gallagher asked sourly.

“You. Or me. We'll figure it out later.” Boothill shrugged nonchalantly, sitting down on the bartender's lap. His palms gently squeezed his tiits before pushing the fragrant-smelling cart closer. “Come on, get on it. I bet you've missed this since the last time we met.”

Gallagher knew what that meant; he was being offered to eat until he burst. Boothill had some pretty perverted fetishes, and it seemed Gallagher did too, because he obediently took a bite of the hot, spicy steak. There was much more in the cart: roast beef, reheated pork pies, apple pies, lots of fried sausages in a thin film that burst in the mouth, spilling hot juice into it; fish and chips, sandwiches and some of today's puddings. Under Buthill's watchful eye, all this splendor began to be slowly eaten.

“If you end up getting caught, I'll personally go and report you for violence.” Gallagher exhaled heavily, finishing one of the pies. He was already feeling quite full! It had only taken a few meals to reach the line that separated satisfying hunger and excessive satiety. But that was the line Boothill wasn't interested in. He was pushing Gallagher further, to the line of "horrible gluttony."

“If that's what you wanted, Mr. Detective, I wouldn't be here a long time ago. What's to stop you from dialing Inspector Argenti right now and telling him all about me?” Boothill gently poured some beer into his mouth to wash it down. Gallagher exhaled, feeling his belly gradually rounding into a full sphere.

“Idiot…” Gallagher wiped his lips. He was beginning to breathe heavier. Boothill, sitting on his lap, unbuttoned first the man's vest and then his shirt. Gallagher realized wistfully that he would not button it again today.

“Is your tummy bothering you?” Butkhill grinned playfully, wrapping both hands around the man's heavy belly and kissing it slowly a few times. He leaned down to Gallagher's ear and whispered with an almost manic tenderness: “Keep it up, and I'll show you how good I am with your shaft, too.”

“I hate you…” Gallagher grumbled as deft hands fed him another sandwich. He felt stuffed almost to the brim, but Boothill wasn't done with him yet, forcing him to eat without interruption.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

The belt of his pants was starting to dig painfully into his lower abdomen, and his pants creaked threateningly. It wasn't just Gallagher's growing girth, but also his growing erection. His belly was big enough to put a little weight on the rising bump with his weight, and when Gallagher moved a little, rubbing himself and it caused a whole flurry of sensation. God, he's getting so fat...!

Boothill, as always, was the epitome of attentiveness. His deft hands undid the belt and fly of his pants before they could burst. Gallagher seriously feared this might happen, for his belly was as round and taut as a ball, and it protruded proudly forward and wide, offset by his broad love handles. Boothill was frankly enjoying his lover's helpless position, stroking him, caressing every crease and beginning to rub his aroused cock as well. Gallagher was breathing heavily; the pressure inside his belly was almost unbearable, so much so that it converted itself into arousal. He wanted to cum excruciatingly badly. Boothill was slowing him down, torturing him, squeezing all his juices, squeezing out the presperm drop by drop. The cowboy himself was squirming impatiently on Gallagher's lap, from which he was slightly displaced by his impressive belly.

“Ha... Shit... Ha-ah!” Gallagher gave a low shriek, collapsing back in his chair as Boothill's hand became damp with whitish liquid. He grinned.

“You should see your face when you cum... I'd paint a picture like that and hang it in my room above the frame.” He stood up slowly, giving Gallagher one last pat on the belly. “'I've got to go, sweetheart. You know, the constables are already out hunting for my head. Don't get bored in here.”

He climbed back over the bar, put on his poncho and hat. The red handkerchief returned to the bottom of his face. Boothill walked over to Gallagher one last time to smack the bartender, completely exhausted from gluttony and orgasm, on the cheek.

“I'll come by again tonight. Don't forget to leave the window open!” With those words he disappeared into the night, as he always did, leaving Gallagher alone with the consequences of their games.

haha im sorry guys english isnt my native language btw i hope u enjoed it!

[arisewanekosuki]

TLH -Extra-: The love is in the air! - Charlotte (Feat. Fontaine boys + Aether x Fem!Reader)

Finally found motivation to write this one! The idea came from conversation I had some time ago with my dear friend @shizukano , thanks Shizu (^ v ^)/)

---------

Nothing can hide from Charlotte’s eyes, not even the way many guys look at you with adoration.

When Charlotte met your group in Mondstadt for the first time, she genuinely thought that you and Aether are more than only traveling companions. The soft look he always give you, making sure that you're always safe and sound. He will never let anything hurt you on his watch.

But then she noticed that you weren’t looking at him the same way. You treat him like your other friends and not only that but she started to doubt if she was right about Aether's feelings towards you as well. Because when you traveled around nations in search for Card Thief, she couldn’t help but notice other guys that your group met in other Nations, being very friendly with you too as well. 

But then, when you, Aether and Paimon came to Fontaine she saw it with her eyes. It wasn't immediately but after some time, the first ‘victim’ that got caught in your charms from the Nation of Hydro Archon was Lyney. At some point whenever he saw you taking a walk around Court of Fontaine, he would in fast speed approach you, making small ‘magic shows’ just for you. You always end up with flowers adoring your head or you clothes after them. The magician always ‘invites’ himself to whatever your little group has planned. Going for dinner? Nice, he’s hungry too! Diving? Sure! He knows some nice places that his younger brother told him about. Oh you need some Fatui insignias? Magically they are in his hat just for you!

Another ‘victim’ was the talented diver, Freminet. Charlotte was surprised to see this shy guy who seems to prefer being alone, catching the same feelings towards you like his brother. Freminet is always ready to help you with anything. But there are moments when his shyness seems to go away. In those moments he ask you for his next orders, waiting with anticipation for it, no blush and no stutter, looking like a servant that would give his own life for his master than just a boy in love. The diver is rarely smiling but if anyone would like to see his face adored with smile they have to see the moment when you invite him to join for your ‘little adventures in Fontaine’.

The most unexpected 'victim' was the Iudex of Fontaine, Monsieur Neuvilette. At first glance Monsieur Neuvillete didn’t looked interested in you in such romantic way. But then Charlotte notice, those small things the Iudex was doing for you. Inviting you for dinners, always making time if you need his help, giving you some pretty shells and rocks and other gifts that seems the Melusines helped him to pick up for you. If you feel tired, suddenly there is room prepared in hotel for your group and you don’t have to worry about cost. The only thing that Charlotte can’t understand is why whenever it rains and you meet Neuvilette, the rain immediately stops.

Another even more unexpected ‘victim’ was the Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide, Wriothesley. At that point she really wished she could change into fly and saw what happened when your lil group was in prison. She only learned of new victim after seeing him with you and Aether while taking commissions from Katheryne. She followed to see if the Duke truly become charmed by you and he indeed did. For you, both guys were just doing their job at commissions but she saw the rivalry between them, especially when there were enemies to beat. And let’s not forget about him inviting only you for some tea party. Of course Aether won’t leave your side, much to Duke disappointment.

The journalist couldn’t help but wonder… How are you doing this without knowing you are stealing these men's hearts?! ---------------------------------------------------------------------

-“Paimon had a feeling that lately… many people are watching us…” the little girl said while looking around. Aether did noticed it too, like all Fontaine started to be so interested in your group but nobody is really approaching you to ask for something like always. -“You think so? I didn’t notice anything.” you said while eating the cake that Aether bought. You all decided to take a break and eat something at Café Lutece. Suddenly Mr. Arouet approached your group table, bringing some more cake. -“But we didn’t order this one?” Aether said to the man, who only smiled and winked at him -“It’s on the house.” Then he whispered so only Aether could hear it “Don’t give up! I know you can win her heart!” And with that he went back to serve other clients. The blond traveler was confused by it, but you and Paimon seemed happy for getting another cake and for free.  

...

While you were looking at books with Paimon, Aether by accident overheard conversation of two women that were standing not that far from your group. -“Traveler have the best chance of winning her heart! Both of them are always together!” one said -“But they been traveling for so long and they still are not together, I think at this point Lyney have better chances of winning! He can be really charming if he wants!” the other said. For a moment Aether was wondering if he heard it correctly. Why are they talk about your group and friends like this? Then he heard Paimon gasp, he turned around to see what’s going on. You were asking her as well, what did she read on the paper to bring such reaction but the little girl poorly lied that she remembered that she left book at café and asked if you can go bring it back. You didn’t question her and you did go. Then the little pixie flew over Aether, showing the news paper in his face!

“One girl steals hearts of men without knowing it!! Who will be the chosen one at the end?!

Wherever she goes, new ‘victims’ appear. This time she came to the Nation of Justice and managed to charm many fontainian men without knowing it. The traveler always by her side, still fighting for her heart but right now the magician, diver, Monsieur and the Duke joined in this race towards her heart.

It is some kind of her power? Or maybe curse? Or maybe we can even call it a blessing that she’s not aware of it? Or maybe she’s just that a lovely person that after knowing her better those men can’t help but fell in love with her? Whatever it is, now is the biggest fight over her and she doesn’t even know it! So who will be with her at the end?”

-“This explains a lot…” murmured Aether. -“Yeah! Paimon was wondering why two guys were placing bets on Freminet and Wriothesley! After all those two have nothing to do with each other! …Well that was Paimon first thoughts back then…” Aether sighed, at this moment he’s even more grateful that you can’t read Teyvat language. He wonders if he should talk about it with Charlotte, she didn't even hide that well identities of people involved in it and he doesn’t like the idea of whole Fontaine being interested in ... this whole ‘love race’.

[neiveel3llson]

Alfred: I didn’t even realize how sarcastic I was being. It’s starting to become a problem, I believe.

Dick: I lost Damian.

Y/N: How did you LOSE Damian?!

Dick: To be fair, he is very small.

Bruce: Did you have to stab them?

Jason: You weren’t there. You didn’t hear what they said to me.

Bruce: What did they say?

Jason: "What are you going to do, stab me?"

Bruce: That’s fair.

Y/N: *screaming while holding something large.*

Dick: *Chasing Y/N, screaming at them to not throw the large object.*

Jason: *Crouching at the car window, begging Damian not to call Bruce.*

Dispatcher: 911, what's your emergancy?

Tim: We locked our baby brother in the car and people are judging us!

*Comments under an image of a really hot knife cutting bread*

Jason: Imagine stabbing someone with this knife.

Tim: It would instantly cauterize the wound, so the person wouldn't bleed, so it's not very useful.

Y/N: if you want information it is

Dick: why would you STAB a person when you can have TOAST?

Jason: What are you talking about Dick? You love it here!

Dick: I'm not sure I do, I think I've just developed Stockholm syndrome.

Damian: You need to be more careful!

Bruce, who was dragged into Damian's issue: Careful? CAREFUL?! I'LL CAREFULLY WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR THROAT-

Damian: Wow. I keep stepping on a lot of crunchy twigs.

Y/N: Those are bones, Damian.

Damian: *looks straight up* Not if I never look down.

Bruce: Yeah, I find it quite emotional. In like a cool way.

Alfred: Sir, did you just say it makes you cry in a cool way?

Damian: But what about Y/N?

Jason: Don't worry about them.

Jason: I once watched them fall down 5 flights of stairs, stand up, and keep eating their hotdog like nothing happened.

Tim: Your problem is that you’ve got no common sense.

Y/N: I’ve got plenty of common sense!

Y/N: I just choose to ignore it.

*Playing house with Damian and Jon.*

Jason, at Jon: You're my significant other.

Jon: Yeah I am!

Jason, at Dick: You're my child.

Dick: *Rolls eyes* Yes boss.

Jason, at Tim: You're my bitch.

Tim: Yeah I am- wait, what?

Jason, at Y/N: My bestie.

Y/N: Naturally.

Jason, Damian: HA, GAY!

Damian: Fuck you.

Alfred: And then they ran into my knife. They ran into my knife ten times.

Bruce: You mean you stabbed them?

Alfred: They ran into my knife, sir.

Bruce: Breaking News, Dick has disappointed us.

Tim: Why do you look like that?

Damian, laying face-first on the floor: Like what?

Tim: Like you’re dead.

Damian: It’s because I’m dying. Leave me here to perish.

Alfred: Young master Damian accidentally called Y/N “babe” in front of everyone today.

Damian: *sobs into the floor*

Alfred: *Turns on the kitchen light*

Y/N: *Sitting at the table, eating bread*

Alfred: It’s four in the morning, young master.

Y/N: Turn the light back off.

Bruce: This is a judgement free zone.

*Pulls out a knife the size of their forearm*

Bruce: And I mean it.

Tim: Well you see, the explanation is perfectly simple and scientific. It was because shut up. Shut up is why.

Y/N: Listen, in the wild wild west there is always a woman in the saloon and nobody messes with her even though they all have guns.

Dick: That's because she's a prostitute.

Bruce: Tim, why are you crying?

Tim: This book is so sad!!

Bruce, picking it up: But this is my diary-

Dick: Can we talk about that mass email you sent?

Y/N: Why? It was important.

Dick: All it says is, "I'm back on my shit".

Damian, shrugging: The people need to know.

Y/N, to Jason: You're starting to forget your Spanish. You don't practice.

Jason: Lo siento. Estoy embarazada.

Y/N: You just told me you're pregnant.

Damian: Congratulations Jason, you're glowing!

Y/N: If we were in prison you guys would be like my bitches.

*When Y/N and Jason were young and new.*

Bruce: Where the devil is Alfred?

Y/N: Well, it is raining outside... Maybe he melted?

Tim: Shall I look outside for a pointy hat?

Jason: Thanks for opening my message and not responding.

Y/N: All good bro, any time.

Jason: Fuck you.

Damian, over radio: Testing. Testing. Bruce, can you hear me?

Bruce, standing next to Damian: I’m standing right here.

Damian: You’re coming through good and loud.

Bruce: ‘Cause I’m standing right here.

Alfred: Perhaps, the true treasure was friendship all along. Although, I hope not, because I cannot spend friendship on new suits.

Damian: You wanna fight?! You got one!

Y/N: Okay! *raises fists*

*Bruce runs in, scoops Y/N up in their arms, and runs away carrying them because he just didnt want them to fight. Yet.*

Damian:

Damian: What?

Y/N: Any questions?

Dick: Uh, yeah, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?

Y/N: Uh, a plan, duh...

Damian: Dick, chill, I know it’s weird, but Y/N has a point.

Dick:

Dick: THAT WAS LITERALLY A PONY DOODLE WITH A HAT!!

*Alternatively*

Joker: Any questions?

Y/N: Uh, yeah, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?

Joker: Uh, a plan, duh...

Harley: Y/N, chill, I know it’s weird, but Joker has a point.

Y/N:

Y/N: THAT WAS LITERALLY A PONY DOODLE WITH A HAT!!

Bruce, answering the phone: Hello?

Damian: It’s Damian.

Bruce: What did they do this time?

Damian: No, it’s me, Damian. It’s actually me.

Bruce: What did you do this time?

Dick: Everyone thinks you suck.

Joker: I think you have the wrong number…

Dick: Damian?

Joker: Nope. Joker.

Dick: Well, you probably suck too…

Y/N: When I first met you, I thought you were weird and annoying.

Tim: And?

Y/N: And you are.

[lillaydee]

In Time Part 7

Rancher Joel Miller / Reader

You lost your dear Uncle. Your TV Star boyfriend dumped you. You needed a job. You got one at a ranch in Wyoming. Where you met Joel. A very grumpy man. Grumpy man has issues.

WARNINGS:

Grumpy Joel, Hurt Joel, Grieving Joel, Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Mentions of Hostage Situation and Shooting, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 6

---

You made your rounds at the stables and cowshed, making sure no one needed medical attention, your tea in hand. The horses were happy to see you. The cows too, even if they only came to you when you brought them food. The chickens were… non-committal. There were maybe four people working today, all tipped their hats at you and went back to work. You were giving the barn cat some much needed affection when Joel came in, coffee mug in hand, an easy smile greeting you.

What a difference two days made.

He told you there’s a blizzard warning out for that evening, and he wanted to make sure you have everything you need should you need to hunker down for a day or two. The pantry in the kitchen was pretty well-stocked, if you wanted to raid it. You willingly took the offer, going with him to get some canned goods, pasta, milk and eggs, just in case. Two of the men went around the stables and the sheds, making sure the animals had everything they needed while you helped Joel clip thick, heavy ropes on the pegs from one building to another, beginning at your cabin, in case you needed to get around. The other two checked all the spotlights, making sure they all work. Joel made sure the generators for the stable and sheds were hooked up and ready to go, in case of a power cut, the water tanks filled and wrapped up.

After a quick lunch, where you made the five thankful, tired men some sandwiches, Joel went into the woodshed and chopped off some more wood, bringing as much of it to your cabin, and stacked more outside just in case.

If you’re being honest with yourself, they way the men were getting ready for this blizzard scared the living shit out of you. Would you survive this? The worst bout you ever had with natural disasters were the light earthquakes LA sometimes get, and those four days of heavy rain you had to suffer through in Bali, where you and Benny spent four days ordering room service, getting full body massages and sleeping in at your 5-star resort. Did those even count as natural disasters?

At about three in the evening, snow had started to fall. Heavily. The men left after going around one more time, double checking everything on their list, and shut the doors to the stables and sheds. Joel walked you home. As he was about to leave, he clocked the worried look on your face.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’ll be alright. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

You nodded apprehensively, trying hard to look like you were okay, when in fact, you were definitely not.

“Do you want me to stay? I can stay,” he offered.

You were torn, you didn’t want to trouble him, but you were really scared.

“I’ll stay,” he said with finality in his voice. “Just let me go grab some stuff, okay?”

You nodded, still petrified, now at the thought of him driving off down the road in a pre-blizzardy snowfall.

“Shut the door. I’ll be right back.”

You watched him leave, your heart beating uncomfortably fast.

Forty minutes went by, he hadn’t returned. It shouldn’t take this long to drive to the main house, grab some stuff and come back.

You wanted to call him but didn’t want to interrupt what he was doing.

You were starting to panic.

Out of desperation for something to do, you put the kettle on, and made him some coffee. Just as you were putting the lid on his cup, a quick knock sounded. You rushed to the door, a snow-covered Joel stood there, bag in hand.

You stepped aside, and he rushed in, stomping his boots outside the door, and brushing snow off his raincoat, his face red from exposure.

“What happened? Why didn’t you drive?”

“Truck died on me. Had to walk,” he said, shivering slightly as he took his jacket off.

You felt horrible.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m used to this, remember? I’m dry, see?”

He had taken the plasticky trousers he was wearing, as well as his thick, heavy boots off, the clothes underneath looking dry, every part of him looked dry, save for his face, a bit of his hair and very thick neck.

You nodded and gave him his coffee. He quickly took a sip.

“Hey, this is good coffee! Just how I like it!” he told you, smiling, clearly trying to make you feel better.

You managed to smile. You took his bag and placed it in your bedroom. He sat in front of the stove for a bit, warming his hands and socked feet.

He told you about the worst blizzard they had – Sarah was only five. No one got out for days. Thank God they were well prepared, and even then, they actually lost some cows. Time flew by when you talked to him, you found. Conversations were easy. Silences comfortable. He helped you around the kitchen while you made dinner, and dinner was filled with easy banter and laughter, so much so, you forgot that up until three days ago, you never actually had a full conversation with this man.

Come bedtime, he started taking sheets from your linen closet to set the couch up. You did some mental calculation and realized he wouldn’t be very comfortable on it. His feet would be sticking out at the end unless he slept with his back on the armrest.

“Erm, I don’t think you fit on that couch. Take the bed. I’ll sleep out here.”

“What? No! I’m not making a lady sleep on the couch. I’ll be alright.”

“Come on, I made you stay, I can’t let you sleep on the couch,” you pleaded, feeling so guilty you wanted to cry.

“It’s okay. It’s your first blizzard. I understand, please don’t worry about me.”

You contemplated the situation for a bit.

“Look, the bed is huge. Why don’t we both take the bed?”

He looked a bit shocked and flustered by your suggestion. You quickly put your hand up.

“No, really, think about it. We have enough pillows. We’ll put a pillow wall between us. You stay on your side; I’ll stay on mine. We can use two blankets. How’s that?”

He thought about it, too long for your liking.

“I promise I will punch you in the face if you got handsy.”

He looked scandalized by the suggestion.

“Hey! What if you got handsy?”

“Then you have my permission to punch me.”

He laughed. Deal.

The pillow wall was quickly made, and you both got in, both dressed rather warmly considering the blizzard that was covering everything outside. The view out your windows was basically TV static, black and white spots that wouldn’t let you see past your nose. You felt comforted that he was here. There was no way you could sleep in this condition. You kept imagining the windows breaking and the roof coming off and you were found frozen in your bed days later, your eyes wide open, a horrific expression on your face…

God, you shouldn’t have watched too many movies.

“Night Amelia.”

“Night Joel.”

---

Joel first conscious thought that morning was that he was uncomfortably hard. He had a very nice dream. One that involved you. The wind was still howling in the darkness outside. He could hear it. He opened his eyes and was met by your sleeping face. Somehow, during the night, both of you had ended up hugging the pillow wall and were now facing each other. Your face was squished on the pillow wall, your hand over it, resting dangerously close to his tented crotch, your leg between his.

Shit.

This was definitely not helping with the situation he had going between his legs. For the first time in his life, he cursed the fact that men get hard-ons. Women didn’t have to worry about their sexual needs being obvious for the world to see. What the fuck was he going to say to you if you noticed? Sorry I have a raging hard on because I had a wet dream about you? I couldn’t help myself because I hadn’t had sex in ten? Eleven? TWELVE years? Fucking hell Joel. How was he still functioning?

He couldn’t move. You shifted slightly, your lips opening and closing, settling with them slightly opened. And moist. He kept watching you. Even puffy from sleep, with crusts in your eyes, you looked gorgeous. He longed to touch you, touch your lips – just to see how soft they were. They certainly felt soft in his extremely realistic dream where you were down on your knees looking up, your mouth full of him. He wanted to kiss you so badly. But he couldn’t. He mustn’t. You met a month ago. And he had only heard you call him Joel once. Last night. As he was falling asleep. He liked the way you said his name. He wondered how you would say it if he…

“Hmm…” you moaned, your eyes closed, your lips pouting further, and damn it, you licked your lips. “Hmm… Joel…”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

This was torture. He eased his leg off yours, and very carefully got out of bed. He went to the living room, and palmed his crotch, pressing hard, trying to persuade it to calm down. He could not, must not give in to his desire to just rub one out, you were right next door for fuck’s sake. He tried walking it off, didn’t work. He thought of his grandma, but only your pouty face, moaning his name came up. Fuck. What was he going to do? He couldn’t take a cold shower; your bathroom was right there next to your bed. What would he say if you woke up? I like taking showers at 5 am during a blizzard? He couldn’t jump up and down without alerting you, thanks to the wooden flooring. He’s equally desperate to get off and get rid of his erection without getting off at the same time.

He had to do it. He had no choice. He made sure the bedroom door was closed. He took several deep breaths, opened the front door and stepped outside.

The wind and snow pelted him like big blobs of water balloons. Ice-cold water balloons. He counted to five, and stepped back inside, shivering so much his teeth chattered. But the problem was taken care of. His dick shrunk back so quickly he would be surprised if they could ever rise to the occasion again. He sat in front of the stove, stoking the fire, adding more wood, and prayed to God he wouldn’t catch a cold. Although, that seemed like a much better option than having you catch him with a hard on after sleeping next to you. He’s supposed to be your friend. That’s all. He shouldn’t kid himself thinking you would ever fall for an asshole like him, especially not after the way he treated you when you arrived.

“Joel?”

His head snapped towards the bedroom door, you were standing there looking fucking angelic in your sweatpants and hoodie, hair all messed up and face puffy from sleep. He wondered if you would look like that after he…

Nope. No… no, no, no, no, no. Don’t. Do not go there Joel Miller. All that effort of almost getting blown off in a blizzard and risking frostbite would go to waste if he did.

“Why are you all wet? Fuck! Are you okay?”

You ran back inside and got him a blanket and a towel. He mumbled something about checking the firewood. You sat next to him, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, and toweled his hair off for him. He let you, hands holding the blanket around his body, eyes closed, savoring this very private moment with you. You quickly dried him off and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on. You went back to him, and wrapped your body around him from the back, rubbing his arms and chest to warm him up.

Joel wasn’t actually that cold anymore. The stove was roaring with fire. But who was he to resist? He couldn’t help but close his eyes to the sensation. So, this was what heaven felt like.

---

You kept rubbing him, trying hard to warm him up. Was he cold, though? His body felt warm to your touch. So warm. You could feel his bulging biceps as you rubbed them, and his chest, oh… the definition of solid. You pressed right up to him, your hands spread open from the broadness of his back and shoulders, your own unsupported chest rubbing up on this brick wall that was his back. You felt warm. So warm.

Wait, were you warming him up, or was he warming you up?

Were you cold? Or was he cold?

Were your eyes closed? Why were your eyes closed?

Why were your rubbing motions slowing? At what point does rubbing turn into caressing?

Why was your nose pressed up to the back of his neck? Fuck, why did he smell so good?

The click of the boiling kettle broke you out of your Joel-filled stupor. You asked him if he was feeling better, and he breathed a soft yes. His eyes were closed, his hands holding on to the blanket covering his body tightly, knuckles white. Oh, he must be very, very cold.

You got up and made him his cup of coffee, and yourself, your cup of tea. Your face feeling hot – which had to be the effect of standing too close to the steaming kettle. Why else would your face be hot? Right?

You took your time making the drinks, and Joel took his time sitting in front of the stove, taking a lot of deep breaths before standing up and joining you in the kitchen, making sure that the blanket was still covering his torso, glad to discover that his ability to stand to attention wasn’t affected by his rendezvous into the blizzard earlier after all.

---

The blizzard passed that second night. You were awoken by the sounds of the snowplow and found Joel sleeping way at the other end of the bed, his broad back straining the shirt he was wearing. You had to actively get out of bed and go to the bathroom to stop yourself from scooting over and spooning him.

You hadn’t left the house in 36 hours. Time to see the damage. You put your jacket on and opened the front door. The whiteness you saw on Christmas day was nothing compared to this. Heck, even the poles on the deck were white. There was snow up to your waist at your front door. How the fuck were you supposed to get out?

The plow came closer, and you waved at Ed, one of the more senior guys at the ranch. He waved back and proceeded to carefully maneuver the machinery around your front yard, getting as much snow as he could out of the way, before jumping off with a shovel, and began clearing a path to your deck, and began shoveling there too.

A hand landed on your shoulder, and Joel, his hair mussed from sleep, his jacket and plasticky pants on, asked Ed for the shovel, telling him he got it from here. You went in and made him his coffee, and by the time you came out, he had cleared the deck, and was making a path down to your office.

Damn, you missed the show.

He came back in, very quickly had some toast, and told you he needed to get going. Lots to do after a blizzard. The family will begin arriving today, he should check everything was alright for them. He’ll make sure a path was cleared for you in case you were needed at the stables or cowsheds, although things seemed fine when he checked the CCTV footage, and none of the ranch hands had called him this morning. He quickly packed his belongings, and you handed him his thermos, filled with more hot coffee, and thanked him for keeping you company.

Before he left, you took his hand, pushed yourself to your tippy toes, and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Thank you, Joel.”

He smiled at you, hesitated a bit, but finally just nodded and walked out.

Joel’s cheek burnt red hot throughout the twenty minutes’ walk to his house, keeping him warm all the way.

He was never washing that cheek again. Not until he could guarantee another dosage was coming.

---

You were at your office, checking that all was well with the place, sweeping snow on the outside after it had been shoveled. Your phone pinged. Many times. You opened the text app and saw that you had been added to a chat group called “Da Milla Famiglia”.

*Tess added you.

*Tess removed Joel

Tess: Video attachment

It was a wobbly video of Tess, Penny and Ellie driving up the road leading to the main house. Joel was clearly in frame, his coffee in one hand, the other on his hip, a wide smile on his face, waiting for them. The voices of the three could clearly be heard.

Tess: Are you recording?

Ellie: Yes, yes, it’s recording.

Penny: Good. We need proof.

Ellie: What is going on with his face?

Tess: Is he… smiling?

Penny: Noo… that can’t be.

Tess: Penn, he’s right there. He’s fucking smiling.

Ellie: Should we call 911? Did he have a stroke? Oh my God, he had a stroke. We should call 911. Fuck, I’m recording. Penny, call 911.

Penny/Tess: Language!

Ellie: Fuck that, JOEL is smiling! What is wrong with him?

Penny: Oh. My. God. Is that a thermos in his hand?

Tess: Noo… that’s impossible…

The car stopped. Joel was clearly smiling. He opened the door for Penny.

Joel: Hey, welcome back! (hugs Penny, and kisses her on the cheek)

Joel looked into the car, smile still wide.

Joel: How was your drive?

Tess: It was okay, bit icy… (mumbles as she gets out of the car).

Joel hugged Tess, who tensed like she was expecting him to punch her. Kissed her on the cheek too. She and Penny kept staring at him, looking for signs of trouble.

Ellie: Oh my God. Seriously. What the fuck is going on? Shit! He’s coming.

The camera was lowered. The door opened.

Joel: Hey kid, had a great Christmas?

Video ended.

Okay… Joel Miller was smiling. A lot. Wow. You were about to put your phone away when it pinged away again.

Frank: What. The actual. Fuck.

Maria: You sure that’s Joel?

Frank: Audio note

Frank: Tess, turn around and look at him from between your legs. See if his legs touch the ground.

Bill: What the fuck are you talking about?

Frank: I saw a horror movie once. If his legs don’t touch the ground, he’s not Joel. He’s a ghost.

Bill: Frank, stop recording!

You just laughed and went back to work, going on your rounds to make sure the animals were alright.  When you finally left the cowsheds, a very excited Ellie jumped you, wrapping herself around your middle, a box in her hands.

“Hello, excited girl.”

“Hi Doc. Missed you.”

“Missed you more.”

“I got you something. I helped Penny’s mom bake them.”

She produced the box, filled with blue macarons.

“You baked these?”

“Uhuh.”

You popped one in your mouth. The crunchy, gooey, nutty flavour burst in your mouth; the salted caramel filling almost made you swoon.

“Oh, my God! Ellie! These are amazing!”

“What’s amazing?” Joel appeared from behind the cowshed, peering over your shoulder, looking inside the box.

“Ellie baked these. They’re amazing! Try one!”

He took one and took a bite. His face contemplative for a second as he chewed, before popping the rest into his mouth, reached into the box and grabbed a few more. He ruffled Ellie’s hair, mumbled ‘good job, kid’, mouth full of macarons, and walked towards a large snowcat parked next to the field, popping another into his mouth before climbing in and closing the door.

Okay. First a snowplow and now a snowcat? Was he trying to kill you? You watched helplessly as he took off his jacket, started the engine and began maneuvering the large equipment towards the fields, your minds going so many places, far beyond what the eyes could see. You wonder what else he could drive…

“Er, earth to Doc?”

Hmm?

Ellie was staring at you, her eyes darting between you and the snowcat. Her eyes went back to you, and then lingered on the thermal mug in your hand.

A flash of recognition.

“Okay, what the fuck happened while we were gone?”

---

On New Year’s Eve, the family packed several picnic baskets and piled into several cars before heading to the retirement village where Joel and Tommy’s parents live. Apparently, you could see some spectacular fireworks from several villages and towns from there. Tess had asked if you wanted to go with them, but Joel opened his passenger door and gestured for you to get in. He very quickly got in himself and drove off before anyone else could decide if they wanted to go with you. You saw the family quickly gather around each other as Joel drove off.

You and Joel hadn’t spent as much time together as you did, just a few hellos while working and having lunch together when you happened to be in the hall at the same time, which, incidentally, was every day since Mrs Adler came back from her sister’s, not that you planned it or anything. So, it was nice to have some alone time with him again. Ellie kept hounding you about what happened over the break, and you had managed to avoid answering her thus far. She straight out threatened to haunt your dreams until you do. I’ll be your little mind gremlin, sneaking into your brain at night to find out what really happened, she said.

Joel had a new bounce in his steps. He told you he talked to Sarah, and you were right, he said, it helped. Thank you. There’s a lot he had to do to really move on, but small steps, right? You smiled at him, happy to see him this way.

When you arrived, you were met by an older couple. They greeted Joel with a hug and a kiss, Joel an exact copy of the older man. They turned their attention to you, Joel introducing you as the new vet. The lady practically ran to your side of the truck and gave you a friendly hug. Anita Miller, she said. And my husband, Jake. The older man gave you a small peck on the cheek, saying it was nice to meet you.

Joel and his dad got the stuff you brought out of the car, Anita wrapped her arm around yours and led you to the clearing where the picnic was taking place. You heaved a sigh of relief at the many, many temporary fireplaces set up along the area, having worried all day how the heck you were going to survive midnight outdoors again. You had only survived Christmas eve thanks to the hot water bottle and Joel the human incinerator sitting next to you. But this was a much more open space, and surely, Joel would want to spend his time with his family.

Joel helped you set up the tables and chairs. Just as you were done, the rest of the family arrived, and you went along setting the food and drinks, the ladies too, along with some of the residents, while the men set up the barbeque. The next thing you knew, you were being surrounded by Maria, Tess, Penny and Anita, a serious look on their faces. You gave them a questioning look, and they all just began speaking over each other.

“You need to tell us what happened during the break.”

“Yeah, we came back, and Joel was a different person.”

“He smiled – a lot. And you two are suddenly buddy-buddy? And he’s friendly to Ellie! What the fuck happened?”

“Did you say something to him? Did you put something in his food?”

“Did you kill him and replace him with someone else?”

“Did you guys fuck?”

“Tess!” you exclaimed, hand on your chest, your face horrified at the idea.

“What?”

You were looking around, looking for help, and saw that he was being cornered by Tommy, Frank, Bill and Jake. He looked at you, eyes pleading for help. You shrugged and gestured at the ladies. He just smiled and shook his head, before making himself busy with the food, ignoring everyone. So, you decided to do the same.

“Great, they beam thoughts at each other now,” Maria muttered.

“I’m not done with you. I’m getting answers one way or another,” Tess said to you. “And just so you know, you owe me one of those magic toasts Ellie couldn’t stop talking about, for the tampons,” she teased.

The picnic was really nice. His parents were very friendly, they made you feel very at home. Everyone did, actually. Joel really did look like a different person. You sort of understood the whole curiosity behind this, but you wouldn’t have questioned a positive change. What did it matter why he changed? He changed. For the better. Take it, run with it.

You helped clean up after everyone had finished eating. Tommy followed you around with a large bag, while you deposited everything in it.

“I won’t ask you what happened, even though I am really curious. But, these few days, it was like my brother was back. I’m going off a hunch, here, but I think I have you to thank for it. So, thanks Doc.”

“What are we talking about, here?” Joel came to join the two of you, helping you clear the table you were at. Tommy quickly shoved the bag at him and left, winking at you. “What was that about?” he asked you. You shrugged.

He wanted to know what you were thinking, if you would be offended at the thought that spending those few days with you alone practically made him a different man. But he couldn’t tell you how he felt, what if you retreated from him? He needed your energy now. He couldn’t imagine not spending time with you. He felt like himself again, and it was because of you. What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if he was only feeling this way due to his guilt? What if it was just his horny, pent-up energy talking? He couldn’t risk telling you unless he was sure. You didn’t know anyone else here, just them. What if you were just being friendly? You seemed the type. From what he had observed, it seemed more likely that you thought of him as a new friend that you could rely on.

So, he’ll stay quiet.

You wanted to know what he was thinking, if you played a role in him being a different man, as self-serving as that may have sounded. But you couldn’t tell him how you felt, what if he retreated from you? You needed his friendship now. You couldn’t imagine not spending time with him. You were beginning to feel a lot more at home here, and it was because of him. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if you were only feeling this way because you were lonely? What if it was just your horny, pent-up energy talking? You couldn’t risk telling him unless you were sure. You didn’t know anyone else here, just them. What if he was just being friendly? He didn’t seem to have too many friends, and had rejected women again and again, not wanting to commit to anyone. It seemed more likely that he thought of you as a new friend that he could rely on.

So, you’ll keep quiet.

When the time came to ring round the new year, you went along with the countdown, everyone pairing up for the occasion. You looked for Ellie, not wanting her to be alone, but she had partnered with Mrs Adler, the two of them gleefully doing the countdown. You and Joel were the only ones without a partner. He came to where you were standing, his low, low voice reciting the numbers along. You felt a shiver run down your spine. It must be the cold. You wrapped your hands around your body, realizing for the first time how slow countdowns are. It took forever to reach 1.

Your eyes met his at 3, his gaze piercing into your soul. You found yourself unable to keep your gaze on him, what if he could read your mind? But at the same time, you couldn’t look away. You longed to drown in those eyes. Your heart was beating so fast you were sure your ears were pulsing.

When people yelled happy new year, he leaned in, his hands on yours, and brushed his lips against yours. You were stunned. You were electrified. You couldn’t move. You could feel all the nerves in your body fire. Goosebumps everywhere. Your body felt warm.

He pulled back before the fireworks even started.

“Happy New Year, Amelia.”

“Happy New Year, Joel.”

And he let go of your hands and turned to marvel at the fireworks.

You were suddenly cold again.

---

Part 8

[pookapufferfish]

Sona master post time!

here is the post guys, gonna put it under a cut because I have a lot to say about a lot of my sonas

1)Bear man? He has no name really, just me really. technically I made his species a grolar bear but he is just kinda a silly bear. hat and glasses are optional. bandana and sweater are interchangable. technically you can draw top surgery scars on him but I haven't had top surgery yet so I will only draw those scars when that happens. But yeah he is my defult sona

2) Lemon (aka spearsona) My rain world sona, can be anthro or just a scug. he has no mouth usually, mouth can be given if silly enough. He has fluffy paw pads (kinda like rabbit feet) The patches on the anthro version overalls represent my friends that I feel closest to (there is a missing pink bow patch from my old drawing because that friend blocked me, please don't attack them if you find out who they are) I will be adding more patches, don't worry friends

3) Gator! My more silly playful sona. goofy and stretchy and moldable. kinda a guy I use when excited of playful, when my brain is very lizard brain. if you draw him then please keep it sfw, he is meant to be child friendly. He has 2 design requirements for if you draw him, green and has the snoot. go wild if you draw him, I love this fella.

Update (11/09/24): Gator has a shark fin on his back now. same rules as before but now requirements are green, the gator snoot and the fin

4) Draygon This guy and below are more personal or with friends so just keep that in mind and ask if you are allowed to draw them doing something. (if you are a mutual or we interact a lot you can draw this guy) Anyways he is just a long dragon with a fluffy mane, if you see him I am usually sarcastic or have had a very rough day

5) Banana! :D Pokesona, he is an eeveelution designed by my friend @boyswhowawa (I can remove tag if you want) called alebreon. He is a ground type (he also looks quite different from the normal alebreon, they are not normally bright yellow) the green arm band is mandatory. He usually is around his friend squash (I cannot share squash because that is friends sona) I actually don't mind fanart of him but he is more personal to me

6) Zigzaret :P my second pokemon sona, a galarian zigzagoon, sentret hybrid. a silly pal. nothing too special he is just silly. you can draw him being a goober and a sweetheart.

7) Squizzard OwO originally a fusion of lonely wizard and a squirrel from inscryption. He is extremely personal with my close irl friends. ask me directly if you want to draw him. I find him silly and I love him but would be uncomfortable if he got just random fan art