#shame i wasn’t showing them off! they’re so nice!!

[intimxtetouches]

i haven’t been on this blog in a while… anyways here’s my boobs (✿ヘᴥヘ)

[throneofsapphics]

loyal friends

poly!Ruhnlidia x Reader

Summary: “You look so pretty on your knees,” “At least I didn’t get arrested,” and “You look so good with my hand around your neck” with Ruhn and Lidia. 

Warnings: references to drinking/intoxication, sexual content, oral (f!receiving) minors dni

A/N: for this! I'm so obsessed with them.

You slipped through the door, shutting it quietly behind you, trying to hide your heavy breaths.  Somehow, you’d managed to avoid whoever was on patrol, but it was a close thing. Your heels were long gone, discarded behind some dumpster or another. It had taken you an hour longer than it should’ve to get home, covering your tracks as best as you could. 

Vandalizing hadn’t been on the agenda for the evening, but when that asshole insulted your friend it was all too easy for the three of you to find their home, and leave a nice little message behind. 

A tang of guilt hit you. Not for the sweet revenge, but for leaving them behind. They’d told you to run after you’d figured out you were caught. Sure, you’d all disguised yourselves from the camera’s, but the world knew who your mates were and how much of a shit storm it would cause if you had been caught in the act. Lidia and Ruhn were out late tonight, but your alcohol hazed mind couldn’t remember exactly what they were doing. Work, probably. 

Hot water washed the grime away, aided by furious scrubbing. After washing your hair, twice, you slipped into comfy clothes, fully prepared to spend the rest of your night on the couch, letting a mindless reality tv show calm your still thundering heart. 

Turning the volume up to an obnoxious level, your phone slipped from your hand. Cursing, you tried to shove it closer to you with your foot - only succeeding in sending it under the couch. Groaning, you slid off, kneeling in front of it - ass up in the air, arm reaching blindly to try and sweep it out. 

“You should be more aware of your surroundings,” a faintly amused female voice called. A familiar one. 

You cursed violently, you hadn’t even heard the door open, probably couldn’t hear over the noise. Noise that was now gone with a click of the remote. You slid back, shuffling yourself out and sat on your heels. 

First, you saw Ruhn’s boots, then snapped your head up to see him - hand outstretched, looking rather severe. 

“What is it?” you asked, placing your hand in his. He didn’t move. 

“Shame,” he muttered. “You look so pretty on your knees,” and tugged you up to your feet, his other hand gripping your shoulder to balance you. A shiver ran down your spine, his words making specific nerves in your body stand on end, but you’d save those for later - in case an apology was needed. 

“What is it?” You repeated, looking past him to Lidia. Her lips curved into a smile, but she jerked her chin towards Ruhn. 

“Two of your friends,” he started and your stomach dropped, “are currently in holding cells.” 

“What happened?” You tried to keep your voice from wavering. 

“There’s currently a giant dick painted on the home of a very wealthy investor,” a touch of amusement entered his voice, “and said investor is howling about a third ‘criminal’ escaping, demanding they’re brought in at once.” 

It was obvious both Ruhn and Lidia knew the identity of said criminal. 

“And do you have any suspects?” 

“Whoever it is, they’re good at hiding,” Lidia said, “almost like they know exactly how to avoid the camera’s.” 

“Good for them,” you shrugged. Ruhn’s hand from your shoulder, up the side of your neck, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, before dropping back to his side, his other hand releasing yours as well. You flopped back on the couch, phone forgotten for the meantime.

“I should take you in myself,” he glared at you half-heartedly. There was a hint of pride in his eyes. 

“With what evidence?” 

“At least tell me what he did,” Ruhn countered. 

“I wasn’t there,” you emphasized, ignoring his eye roll, “but theoretically, he could have said some very rude things about a friend of mine. Looks like the type.” 

“This asshole isn’t going to let it go.” 

“Tell him he’s hallucinating,” you offered, giving him your best grin. Lidia let out a soft laugh, golden hair falling over her shoulder. “At least I didn’t get arrested,” you threw as much honeyed innocence as you could into your voice, “that would’ve been a bigger mess. Theoretically”

He shrugged noncommittally, but he knew you were right. “You have some loyal friends.” 

“I wasn’t there, remember?”

He groaned, but you noticed some of the tension left his shoulders, and he collapsed back on the couch, arm hanging over the side, legs spread wide. His fingers played with his lip ring. You remembered what that lip ring could do, a shot of arousal running through your core. 

“Really?” Violet-blue eyes danced, mouth curving into a smirk, hand falling to rest on his thigh. 

“I can’t help it,” you shrugged. 

His eyes traced over your shoulder, but before you could follow there was heat behind you, Lidia’s body pressing into yours, one hand on your stomach, pressing you back against her, the other resting delicately around your neck. 

“You look so good with my hand around your neck,” her lips grazed over your ear, words soft and breathy. 

A slow breath, eyes closed, head tilted back, resting against her shoulder, pulse thrumming  against her fingers, her other hand trailing along your waist band, barely dipping into the skin below. 

“Please,” you breathed, and she chuckled. 

“Should we give him a show?” 

“Yes,” Ruhn answered for you, “absolutely.” 

Lidia’s hands dragged up your stomach, nails scratching lightly, taking your shirt with her. Each touch felt imbued with flame, the softness of her lips against your neck making your breath catch, the small whimpers involuntary. 

“Naughty,” Ruhn’s voice interrupted as your arms raised, letting Lidia toss the shirt over. You were bare beneath, as always at this time of night. You rolled your eyes, but twisted, catching Lidia in a kiss. 

Teeth nipped at your bottom lip, tongue swiping against to ask for entrance. 

Parted lips, heavy breaths, hands winding in hair, the world forgotten, you leaned into her, let yourself be fully embraced in her presence and all encompassing aura.

It wasn’t long before Ruhn gave up on his show, deciding to take a more active role. You chuckled as he pressed against your back, fingers sliding down the rest of the fabric covering your bottom half. 

Jeans rough against your bare skin, shadow laced fingers cooling the heated parts of your body, moans grew louder as they worked you in tandem. 

“Too. Many. Clothes,” you managed to force the words out, regretfully breaking your lips away from hers. 

“You’re naked, love,” she teased. 

You tugged at her shirt in response. Her eyes rolled, but she first pulled you - ignoring Ruhn’s discontented grunt, before flipping you over her shoulder in one smooth movement. You squeaked as she carted you off towards the bedroom. 

There, she finally let you tear the rest of her clothes off. Not literally, but they did fly across the room, Ruhn laughing as her shirt hit him in the face. 

“Yours off too,” you scowled at him. 

“Someone’s bossy today,” he tutted, but obliged.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” You commented as he undressed, examining the tattoos you already had memorized. 

“Yesterday.” 

Lidia huffed, pushing you back. “My patience is running out.” 

Her head found its way between your legs, bliss following. Each kitten lick, the finger slipping inside, the spot she pressed against was all perfection. 

You barely registered Ruhn behind you, your back against his chest, his fingers toyed with your nipples, focused on the goddess before you - golden hair falling over her shoulders, eyes filled with wicked triumph. 

[mars-and-the-theoi]

Low energy Devotional Acts for when you don’t have a lot of energy (or time, or money, etc.) pt. 9

🔥Hestia🔥

- put on one of those fireplace videos, or light a candle, or if able light your own fire in the fireplace (or have a bonfire)

- listen to a devotional playlist for Her

- if able do some cooking/baking

- if unable to do that gather some recipes either online or in any cookbooks you may have!

- watch a cooking/baking show

- try your hand at making bread

- watch home renovating, decorating, etc. shows/videos

- if able do some cleaning- doesn’t have to be anything huge just something small like maybe just picking some socks up off the floor or something

- enjoy a hot drink (tea, coffee, hot cocoa)

- watch your comfort movie/show

- if able learn how to knit, crochet, etc. or do some if you know how and are able

- if unable watch knitting or crocheting videos/tutorials

- if able (in every sense of the word here) spend some time with your family or text/call them can be your blood family or chosen family or even your good friends! (Family can be anything you want it to be imo)

- look up important home keeping skills! And watch videos or tutorials on them if you don’t know them (like mending clothes, ironing, etc.) which are all good skills to have ((I add this one because I know at least in America home ec classes have been cut and are pretty much nonexistent like I went through it in middle school but then they got rid of it once I went to high school and in hs it wasn’t mandatory like it was in middle school))

- read up on how to be a good host or guest

- if you like hosting events plan your next gathering

- go through photo albums or pictures and reminisce on the happy, funny, and joyful moments

- if able donate to a food bank (I personally go through my kitchen about 6 times a year-I do a lot of the kitchen work/organizing in my family as I do the cooking so y’know I’m already there so I may as well-and whatever I haven’t used or no longer have plans for I donate! Ofc make sure it’s not expired first and also if able include things like a manual can opener and such! So even though I don’t have too much money myself this system enables me to still be able to help which personally makes me feel good as I grew up utilizing those things so it’s nice to help!)

- if you have pets spend some time with them! They’re important family members as well! Maybe spoil them with their favorite treat and/or activity! Cuddle with them! Just let them know they’re valued and loved family members as well

- be kind to the homeless (yes, even the “bad” ones they’re ppl too and unnecessarily cruelty isn’t helping anything)

- look up ways to help the homeless and if you’re able help out or volunteer or donate (I might make a separate post on stuff to donate as there’s a lot of stuff some folks don’t think about when it comes to giving donates and such)

- hell you could even volunteer or donate to an animal shelter! If that’s more for you and something you’re more comfortable with! They’re homeless too are they not? (I do some volunteer work at the animal shelter myself so I’m very passionate about this)

(and if you have to utilize anything like food banks or government assistance in any capacity work on not feeling bad for needing those things. I know, easier said than done trust me I know again I grew up using those things. But you’re simply getting what you need to survive. And there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re not bad, you haven’t failed, you’re not a leech, etc. you’re just someone trying to survive and there’s no shame in that. There’s no shame in needing help. And not only is that a great devotional act in itself, it’s also just great in general. I do a lot of activist work and such and trust that there’s people who care and people who-again, like me-get it. You’re okay. You’re still a good person. And still deserving of good things.)

[junhuifurby]

Oh wow it’s almost been a year— anyways, back to RoR posting.

Nikola Tesla x Reader

——————————

In life you had admired him, you’d studied under him and eventually fell in love with him. Nikola Tesla was a brilliant man and you had wanted to understand his mind. Through the years you’d learned of his eccentricities and quirks, but you’d also learned how human he could be. You’d learned about his highs and lows, how obsessive he could be over seemingly minuscule things, and how his first love was his work. Nothing mattered more to Tesla than his work and furthering the ingenuity of humanity. Despite the steadily growing feelings in your heart, you were resigned to the fact that the enigmatic inventor would never love you back.

The first time you’d missed a day of work Tesla was concerned. In your time over the last year as his assistant you had never missed a day of work without warning, so when you suddenly didn’t show up that morning it threw him off. Everything seemed to be wrong, his routine was now wrong and he had to do something to fix it. The man threw on his coat, a pair of his favorite gloves, and grabbed his keys before heading out to find what was wrong. After taking 3 laps around the block, Nikola had realized he only knew the general area in which you lived. He had never been to your home, nor had you ever told him your exact address. The inventor’s brow furrowed in thought as he walked along the busy New York streets. Was there someone he could ask about your whereabouts? Did you even have any family or friends in the city? He realized that even if he was your employer he had considered you a friend, but what type of friend is he being if he doesn’t even know what you spend your time doing outside of work.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when a certain smell caught his attention. It was the smell of fresh baked bread. The same smell that lingered on you every day when you’d walked into his workshop. You’d told him before when he asked that you always stop by the bakery by your apartment building. He followed the scent to a quaint looking bakery and luckily it wasn’t that busy at this very moment. A little bell rung out into the bakery as he entered and a kind looking older woman turned her attention to him from behind the counter.

“Excuse me Madame, would you have happened to see Y/N L/N come through here this morning? I believe they’re a regular here.” He asked and the elderly woman shook her head.

“No not today.” She said with a thick German accent. “They come by every day and have a nice conversation, but Y/N didn’t come in today.”

“That’s a shame, do you know what apartment they live in by any chance?” He asked, his worry for his assistant growing.

“Building 203, 2nd floor, apartment 58.” The elderly woman said with no hesitation. “I’ve never had a man come looking for Y/N, are you courting them?”

“Ah— no I’m just a friend who’s concerned.” Nikola said with a shake of his head. “Thank you for the address, you’ve been a fantastic help.”

The elderly woman gave him a smile and a nod as she waved to Nikola as he exited the shop.

‘What could be the matter?’ Nikola thought, his brain pulling up the worst case scenarios as he walked down the chilly street, the autumn wind blowing leaves into the air. So many things could have happened to you. You could have been mugged on your way home last night, or even kidnapped and sold. So many horrible things could have happened on your way from his laboratory to your home, the New York streets were dangerous and he knew it. His mind continued to spiral as he climbed the stairs of your apartment building.

‘Second floor, apartment 58.’ He repeated over and over in his mind on the steps leading up to your home. He stood by the door, a bronze plaque with the number 58 sat pristinely above the door knocker. The inventor took a deep breath and made 3 loud knocks with the metal knocker.

“Y/N, are you home?” He called out, hoping the door was thin enough for them to hear him. Tesla heard shuffling from the other side of the door and a faint ‘Mr. Tesla?’ He listened as the footsteps came closer to the door, seemingly slow and sluggish, definitely odd for Y/N’s normally quick and efficient demeanor.

“Mr. Tesla is that you? Why are you— oh I guess you noticed I hadn’t come in today.” A snufflely voice came from the other side of the door. Nikola’s face paled, this was worse than he had though, surely you couldn’t be— “I came down with a cold this morning.”

Nikola felt like the world was crashing down. His assistant sick? No, this surely can’t be, his only real friend sick of all things. Oh how he hated sickness, he hated any sort of germs but an illness was the worst. Y/N may claim to only have a cold, but what if it developed into pneumonia or even worse—cholera. He had to do something quickly, time was of the essence but he couldn’t risk himself catching whatever Y/N had.

“I’ll be back with a doctor Y/N.” He said quickly before rushing to find a doctor.

That day, Nikola had cared for you in any way he could—that didn’t involve getting anywhere near you—as he couldn’t bear to see you sick. The doctor that he had brought said that you’d been right and it was a simple cold and you should be fine as long as you rested for the next few days. Over the course of your bed rest, Nikola had brought you breads and hot soups to help you recover. He’d also sanitized your entire apartment 3 times. When you got bored he would sit at one end of your room and talk to you, seemingly wanting to know more about you. He’d asked about your hobbies, if you had and friends or family in the city, and even what types of books you liked to read. For the first time, you felt a connection to the inventor that was more than just employer and employee. In the time you were sick, you started to really see Nikola Tesla as a friend.

Over the next few years Nikola continued to learn about you. Not only had you stolen his attention, but stolen his heart as well. Strange feelings had started to bubble up in his chest and he was no fool. Nikola knew what his feelings for you were but he could not figure out why they were changing. You on the other hand, had been content with being friends with the inventor, now seeing him as one of your closest friends. However, it wouldn't be long before the enigmatic inventor confessed his feeling for you, causing the feelings you'd harbored for the past 4 years to erupt like a volcano. You would continue living your life happily with Nikola, supporting him through his highs and lows until death would ultimately separate you.

However, you waited for Nikola and he eventually joined you in the afterlife. Having never remarried, he waited to join you just as you had waited for him. It was a beautiful reunion as he cried as he held you in his arms once again. He spun you in his arms and laughed with you once again. Oh how he’d missed you, the years without you felt like torture. You were the light in his world, his flame in the dead of winter. Without you, the world of his heart was barren. Oh how he’d longed for your touch, to hear the gentle chime of your laughter. Now, he was with you once again and now would never leave your side.

———————

Ok so how’d ya’ll like that? I just got back into RoR after I saw the Anubis leaks lol. I was so SAD I had quit reading after Nikola’s fight. Anyways hope you guys enjoyed, lmk what I should write next.

[keiriiz]

General Chrollo Headcanons!

I will be making a separate post for my romantic/relationship headcanons of him! I’m a bit nervous because I know I’m in the minority with some of my views however I’m up for making a second part to this as this definitely isn’t all, or even expanding on certain things if anyone’s interest. My request box is always open ✨

✥ Chrollo has Autism Spectrum Disorder. Aside from his childhood trauma, this can also affect his ability to identify and express his emotions. He’s also a master of masking, but if he’s out and overwhelmed, he’s definitely stimming with his fingers when he places his hands in his pockets.

✥ Chrollo Lucilfer and “Boss” started off as two different identities. Being the Head of the Phantom Troupe was merely another role however over the years, Chrollo started to lose his individuality. He’s gotten lost in the idea of being a villain that being himself sometimes feels foreign, or he might not recognize it when that side of him comes out. It wasn’t just Sarasa that died that day, but a piece of himself as well.

✥ Chrollo himself is a bit childish. He gets a small glint of genuine joy in his eyes when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about. Whether it’s a book series, the Power Cleaners, or certain species of arachnid. Seeing that side of him truly is something as it only comes out when he’s completely comfortable.

✥ On the other hand of that not, when he’s upset this also leads to him being pretty impulsive and making rather rash decisions. Chrollo is a master strategist but that can fall apart when pushed enough.

✥ Chrollo hums to himself when there’s a toon he’s fond of playing. Most times it’s subconsciously and he doesn’t even catch himself doing so unless it’s pointed out to him.

✥ This man hates crowds of people. Not being able to keep track of what everyone’s doing, the heat, the smell- It’s completely awful to him. It’s more overwhelming than most heists and if not on a job he will avoid them at all costs.

✥ Chrollo is very comfortable in his gender as a cis man but often indulges in things that are stereotypically feminine. Make up, painting his nails, even sporting a bit of women’s garments into his every day style.

✥ The Troupe as a whole is a found family of sorts, but Chrollo holds a particular closeness with the original members. The Spider he was closest with overall being Pakunoda.

✥ Given what we know about Nen, I believe Chrollo was born as a natural conjuror. Though with him changing as a person and honing his Nen for those three years, his aura adapted to specialization.

✥ Chrollo’s ethnicity is Japanese Italian. A true wasian man if I do say so myself. Though I feel he’s a bit more in touch with his Japanese heritage.

✥ He returns a lot to Meteor City outside of his Troupe affairs. He’s somewhat famous there and you bet there’s kids running up to him, gently tugging at his coat asking him to tell them about his “adventures”. Chrollo of course does so on his free time, sharing stories of their heists though somewhat spinning it to paint them as heroes akin to the Power Cleaners.

✥ Chrollo doesn’t kill innocent people unless they’re accidentally caught in the crossfire or truly it’s necessary like how he used the crowd in his fight with Hisoka.

✥ Chrollo suffers from insomnia due to being plagued by night terrors though aside from that he can honestly fall asleep anywhere if tired enough. It doesn’t matter if it’s the hair ground of the forest or a nice bed, he’ll make due.

✥ Of course if given a bed, you will definitely catch this man hugging/cuddling his pillow. And he definitely prefers to be completely smothered in blankets and pillows to feel like he’s been held. (I’ll say it now, he’s a little spoon)

✥ Chrollo is definitely a light weight when it comes to alcohol. He’s buzzed on two cheap beers so he’s always careful to restrain himself in that regard.

✥ He is a S class NERD. Chrollo will shame movie or show adaptations for their inaccuracies to their book counterparts. If someone brings up an obscure topic that he just so happened to read about, he’s making his knowledge known.

✥ Pretty much everyone is aware of Chrollo’s love for pudding but I’m here to say his love for sweets is endless. Cakes, ice cream, candies, chocolate- he literally can’t get enough. And bet your ass he’s suffered a deal of tooth pain during his younger years because of it. Though he’s good on his dental hygiene as an adult.

✥ Chrollo can naturally be quite competitive. Whether he’s playing chess or just entertaining a Troupe member’s game of hang man. He’s always going for the win.

✥ When he’s not masking, Chrollo’s genuine laugh is truly adorable. On the rare occasion he might even snort. (He’ll always deny that he did though)

✥ Being from Meteor City, Chrollo is on the most accepting and least judgmental people when it comes to LGBTQ, race, religion/culture, mental disorders, or any physical differences. He didn’t even know something like being gay or trans was looking down on in certain places of the world.

I hope you guys appreciate these. I truly can ramble about this man all day if you really want ❤️

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 7- Loss

Summary: Easy Company is stuck in Bastogne and is succumbing to the cold harsh winter. Despite this, things are looking up! They are due to take the town of Foy and finally be done with the dreaded winter.  Easy returns to the front line in the forest just outside of Foy. You experience your first real loss due to a senseless accident. This sends you down spiraling into a dark place, and Joe is the only one that can pull you back. 

A/N: Mature audience, Joe LiebgottxFem!Medic, post D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Y/F/N, Y/L/N, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Mentions of death, Confrontation, Military Terminology, 1940’s slang, Inappropriate Nicknames, Band of Brothers References, Mentions of Weaponry, Yiddish to English Translation, Descriptive Wounds/Injuries, Blood/Gore, Smoking, Banter, Pining, Consensual Physical Contact/PDA, FOREVER FLUFF 💚 This chapter continues from

1x6 Bastogne then transitions into 1x7 The Breaking Point

*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~ 

Adrennes Forest, Belgium 

January 2, 1945 

Easy company combed through the trees of the forest in the relentless cold near the target town of Foy.

Eventually, Easy encountered sporadic machine-gun fire causing a few casualties. After Hoobler’s kill shot of a German on horseback, he finally gets a Lugar and comes back to the guys to show it off to them.

LT Compton and Lipton are having a chat about where LT Dike has disappeared to while Malarkey and Shifty are digging a foxhole nearby.  

“-I haven’t seen him all day. I didn't see him coming through the woods, and I have to figure out how we ended up with-” 

Lipton respectfully interrupted Buck, “-Two wounded.”  

“Who?” Buck asked concerned stopping in his tracks. 

“Brown and Stevenson.”  

 “Goddam it-” Buck looked away rolling his eyes, “Where’s Dike!? Where the hell does he ever go?”  

“-I don’t know, but I wish he’d stay the hell there.”  You chime in approaching the first sergeant and LT. 

“Hey, Y/L/N.” Lipton greeted. 

“Would be nice if he took LT Shames with him, too-” Malarkey added. 

“-Shut up, guys.” Lip cautioned. 

“Shutting up, Sarge.” Malarkey acknowledged. 

You nod to Lip before addressing Buck, “Sir, Brown and Stevenson are stable. Me and Doc got them all patched up and ready for transport, they’re gonna be fine.” You report. 

Buck gave you an approving nod, obviously relieved. 

Suddenly a single gunshot sounded off too close for comfort and you all scrambled to the nearest half-dug foxhole with Malarkey, Shifty, Lip and Buck. 

“Patrol?” Malarkey asked. 

“No, we would’ve heard.” Lip replied. 

“One man...maybe a sniper.” Buck added. 

“That was no rifle.” Shifty confirmed. 

“What do you see, Shift?” Buck asked. 

“Nobody out there.” Shifty said. 

“Are you sure?” Buck questioned. 

“Uh-huh.” 

One of the guys came running up. “Ah Jesus, it’s Hoob! He’s shot!” He yelled out. 

“Sniper!?” Buck called back. 

“Nah, nah, he—he shot himself. MEDIC!”  

“Jesus Christ, I’m right here!” You shouted out over Lip’s shoulder as you leap out of the hole running. 

You get to Hoobler with Perconte kneeling over him. 

“It’s my fucking leg!” Hoobler cries out. 

“What happened!?” Lip asked. 

“What were you doing with a loaded gun in your pants!?” Buck asked Hoobler finding the Lugar next to him. 

“It just went off! I wasn’t touchin�� it or nothin’! I wasn’t touchin’ it, I swear!” Hoobler responded panicked. 

“Hoob, hold still dammit, I gotta cut the pants!” you bellowed at him as calmly as your voice allowed.  

You lift the fabric away from Hoobler’s skin where blood soaked through his right thigh and began feverishly slicing through his uniform. It was clear by the color and saturation of the blood that he hit the main artery. 

“It hurts like a son of a bitch!” Hoobler shrieked. 

“We gotta pack this to make it stop.” you think outloud more so to yourself.  

You pull off his belt in one fleeting motion and apply it above the wound as a tourniquet and start tightening it. Hoobler lets out a cry of pain and starts rocking side to side. 

“Goddam it, hold him down! I can’t get this tight enough to stop the bleeding if he’s moving around like that!” you tell the other five men present. 

You secure the belt, then dump your bag to get the sulfur and clean gauze to start packing the bullet wound. 

“Keep him warm!” you tell them as you dash the sulfur onto the thigh and start stuffing with the dressing. 

Doc rushed in sliding onto his knees next to you. 

“Let me see it.” Doc said pushing Malarkey aside, “Y/L/N, let me get in there so I can get the bullet out.” he said noticing you were becoming fatigued. 

Doc shifted over and started working Hoobler. Buck removed his coat and put it across Hoobler to keep him warm. 

The guys started talking to him to keep him from passing out. 

“How we doin’, Doc!?” Buck asked nervously. 

“I can’t see a thing. We gotta get him back to an aid station.” Doc stated. 

“Well let’s get ready to move him then!” you say with your voice shakier than you had intended. 

Doc still frantically working on the leg, the rest of the boys suddenly fell silent. 

“-Doc...Doc!” Buck barked. 

Eugene looked up to see Hoobler laying lifeless.

Lip and Doc stare in horror panting, trying to catch their breath. You stand over all of them with a blank stare, lost in your own thoughts over what had just occurred.  

“Dead...all because of his ‘treasured’ fucking Lugar...’” you thought to yourself. 

This revelation made you angry. Your emotions began to boil over as you voiced your recent thoughts outwardly. 

“All because of a precious Lugar!” you roared.  

The six men look at you startled. You met their shocked gazes with your eyes filled to the brim with tears. As they start to spill over, you continue. 

“Didn’t even need a fuckin’ Kraut to do it for him, did he!?” Your voice cracks as you ask them rhetorically, gesturing towards Hoobler. 

The men all look down at the expired soldier. 

You inhale loudly, tilting your head back and sniffling to try to keep the discharge from expelling from your nose. (Not very lady like). 

“Malarkey,” you say sharply in a motherly tone, side eyeing him.  

Don snaps his head up to look at you, jaw slightly slacked waiting for you to speak, “-if I fucking catch you risking your life looking for a Lugar after today, I will shoot you myself.” you stated harshly. 

Don nodded and looked back down as you turned on your heel and stormed off. 

~~~~~~~ 

Later, Lipton found you spaced out in a foxhole by yourself. He approached cautiously, recognizing the distant look on your face and not wanting to spook you. You sensed his presence and looked over at him with emptiness in your eyes. 

“Hey, Y/F/N.” he began. Your face remains as you looked straight ahead again. 

Lip sat on the edge of your foxhole, allowing his feet to dangle inside. 

“You ok?” His voice was gentle and worried. 

You only nod. 

“Listen, uh, when you’re ready, I need you to come with me to Captain Winters to explain what happened. Just, whenever you’re ready, k?” he waited, “You know where to find me.”  

It was only until he started to walk away you found whatever voice you had left. 

“Sarge, we can go now.” you call out as you slowly make your way out of the hole. 

As you stand before Winters and Nixon retelling the story, your voice begins to strain fighting back anger and choking down tears.  

“Hoob had so many layers on him we couldn’t tell how bad the bleeding was, sir.” you pause and look down at your boots, “He was already gone by the time we got him to the aid station. The bullet went through the artery.” you finished. 

“It wouldn’t have made a difference if you had known.” Nixon tried to assure. 

You look at him perplexed; your face twisted up with that same rage beginning to rise in your chest. 

“With all due respect, that’s where you’re wrong, sir.” you raise your voice, still trying to maintain your customs and courtesies towards him. 

Winters, Nixon and Lipton shared wide eyed glances. 

“Y/F/N, maybe you should-” Lip began. 

“-No! This was avoidable. If Hoobler hadn’t had that Lugar, he’d be alive now!” you stated bitterly. The men were speechless as you continued 

“I hear the guys go around talking about what fucking trophies they’re going to bring home from this ‘Kraut’ or that ‘Jerry,’ and you know what, sir? It makes me sick to my stomach! Do you know Perconte hasover a dozen wrist watches from dead German soldiers he’s been collecting since Normandy!? At least!” you pause to look away, to shield the view of your tears. 

You release along sigh, “And now, because of a stupid German handgun that he considered a “trophy” is the reason that Hoobler is dead. No trophy or treasure is worth that.” you concluded shaking your head.  

You look back at the three men with your glossed over eyes, waiting for a tentative punishment for not asking for permission to speak freely before going off. 

Winters, Nixon and Lipton exchanged concerned glances. 

“Y/F/N,” Winters approached you, “I’ve been noticing for awhile that the weight of the war has been anchoring you down. It gets to all of us at some point, so it’s fine to get it off your chest. As long as you keep pushing forward and lean on the guys for support.”  

“Just make sure when you lose it that it’s only with us. I don’t think Sink would put up with that.” Nixon joked. 

You scoffed flashing a weak smile at him. 

“You’re doing good work with us. Nobody has any complaints.” Winters added. 

You nod, “Thank you, sir, that means a lot coming from you.” you replied. 

“In the meantime, go find Liebgott and stay with him until you’re smiling again. That kid always has something to say that makes the guys laugh.” Nixon said with a wink. 

“Yes, sir.” you respond with a slight grin before leaving the three men under the tarp overhang. 

~~~~~~~ 

You didn’t go to Joe, though. You went back to your foxhole to be alone. As the sun was setting, the air became chillier, and you found yourself uncontrollably shivering. You started to regret not finding Joe to get some extra warmth from him in his foxhole.

And as if he heard you thinking about him, Joe appears crouching over your foxhole. He remained quiet for a minute to see if it was safe to join you, but you keep your face buried in your folded arms covered by your wool blanket. Joe thought he heard you either whimpering or crying, but as he leaned in closer, he discovered you were actually humming a song to yourself.  

“Hey.” Joe said softly. 

You look up at him with tired blood shot eyes, red nose and peeling chapped lips. You had been crying silently in that hole all afternoon and you knew Joe would know. You attempt a weak smile then rest your chin on your knees.  

Joe hopped in and plopped down next to you. He studied you for a few seconds then nudged you with his elbow. You side eye him without any additional response. 

“I just talked to Lip-” he began.  

You looked down. 

“-He asked me if you had come to see me. Had to tell him no. He told me what happened, and that Nixon told you to come see me.” he continued. 

You remained quiet, shifting from your chin to your cheek looking away from Joe.  

Liebgott moved closer to you putting his arm across your shoulders. His closeness made you tremble. You wanted to lean into his chest to get warm, but you stayed put. 

Joe tilted his head, “Why didn’t you come to me, Gams?” he asked, almost sounding offended. 

His fingers gently gliding back and forth on your shoulder, he anxiously waits for you to answer him.  

“I-I don’t know...” you muttered as you sniffled. 

Joe reached for your shoulders to turn you towards him. You rotate entirely around as his hands guided your face to his. You finally look at him with tears cascading down your cheeks. Sensing how distraught you still were, he pulled you into him, embracing you tightly as he leaned against the dirt wall. You curl into him resting your head right over his chest. 

“I gotchyu, doll-” he reassured then kissed the top of your head. “I’m right here.” 

Joe held you, allowing you to soak his coat with your tears while you silently bawled as you wrap your arms around his torso, holding him like a lifeline. He didn’t know what else he could possibly do for you, so he occasionally planted a kiss on the side or top of your head while kneading your back or arms to give you any sort of relief. 

This lasted for awhile until you were drained of tears to shed. You shifted upward to lay your head into the crook of Joe’s neck to be as close to him as possible. 

“So,” Joe started, “did you really tell Malark that you’d shoot him?” he asked. 

For the first time all day, you laughed. Your laughter is music to Joe’s ears as he embraces you tighter then kisses your forehead. 

“I sure did.” you respond, your voice raspy and strained since you hardly said a complete sentence for hours. 

“Pretty sure you scared him out of looking for that Lugar for his nephew.” Joe stated. 

“Good.” you responded. 

He rested his chin on top of your head. 

“What were you singin’ anyway?” he asked. 

You sighed, “Tu-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral.”  

“Tu ra what?” Joe laughed trying to look at you. 

You giggle, “By Bing Crosby? From the movie ‘Going My Way?’ You don’t know it?”  

“Ah sure, I think I’ve heard it once or twice-” he responded while pulling you in closer, “-maybe you can refresh my memory?” he added. 

“I don’t know, Joe, my voice is shit right now from crying.”  

“Sing quietly then. Come on, for me?” he urged winking at you. 

You couldn’t resist the man. You obliged him with a gentle grin. 

🎶“Tu-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral-” you began subtly, “Tu-ra-loo-ra-li...”🎶  

You softly serenade Joe the Irish lullaby until you drift off to sleep in his arms. He stayed with you overnight in your foxhole. His steady heartbeat and rhythmic breathing soothed your inner turmoil, allowing you the deepest sleep you’ve had in months. 

~~~~~~~ 

You wake up sometime in the middle of the night, looking up to see Joe knocked out still holding onto you as he was before you fell asleep on him. 

You move your head up and press your lips into his neck, gently placing a kiss right over the scar left behind from the wound at crossroads. He shuddered, then woke up alarmed, looking at you with hooded droopy eyes. 

“Heeeeey now, Gams-” he cautioned flashing a half-concerned expression. “Whaddya tryin’ to do?” he said through a yawn with a nervous laugh while rubbing his neck where you had kissed him. 

“What?” you respond partially entertained by his reaction. 

He looked at you skeptically, “Come on, you know whatchyu did.” he rebuked, taking an opportunity to stretch. 

You shrug at him with a coy smirk. He smiled at you cynically.  

“You keep doing that shit and we’re going to have to find something to cover this foxhole, so nobody sees what I’d like to do you.” he stated, his voice gravelly and low.  

You gasp as you back off him, “Joseph Liebgott!”  

He chuckled, “Just giving you a fair warning, sweetheart. Don’t think I won’t.” he replied with a wink. 

You felt a wave of heat rush over your entire body as you stared at him in shock by his honesty. 

You scoffed, “Noted. I’ll be more mindful where and when I put my kisses.”  

“Mm-hm...” Joe hummed side eyeing you suspiciously. 

You feel yourself blush as you bashfully smile back at him. He pulled you back onto him. 

“Go back to sleep you little tsrus (troublemaker).” he whispered in Yiddish, then kissed your forehead.  

~~~~~~~ 

[bluebirbo]

time for me to scurry out of my nest and talk about Hazbin Hotel! just kidding, I’m here to discuss a possible way to actually incorporate chickens into Mimzy’s character after Viz dropped that bomb of a fact on us

obligatory warning that I haven’t seen Hazbin after episode one and I’m not well versed on the 1920s so take what I say with a grain of salt!

first let’s start with how we have to reconstruct Mimzy as a character to actually mess with her design

Mimzy is supposed to be a sinner from the 1920s, particularly a flapper. I honestly don’t hate this idea but the execution of the flapper area isn’t as clean as I think it could be

flappers are often associated with being the politically rebellious, sexually liberated, free girls of their century. while that’s a pretty generalized and stereotypical way of portraying them it’s still a start. Mimzy does have some of these traits, from what we can tell she’s a heavy party person and drinker. However, I’d like to see her dip into what she did in her past more. Case in point, maybe have her and Husk get along as Mimzy acts as someone who points out the inhumanity of Alastor’s acts to Husk. OR keep that tension between them, have Husk point out how Mimzy is supposedly a fighter of freedom (referencing flapper’s fights for women’s rights during the 1920s) but she side eyes Alastor’s treatment of Husk. Mimzy can get all serious and say “hey I fought my battle”, it makes it her a bit of a jerk but if everyone in the main cast wasn’t so weirdly nice for hell it wouldn’t!

alright I hear you, let’s ACTUALLY a talk about the chicken thing!

I think instead of Mimzy being based off chickens she should just be a woman who likes chickens. it’s stupid but hear me out

Mimzy could have had a pet chicken in her human life, think 1920s boudoir dolls. like an obsessive pet owner Mimzy surrounds her whole aesthetic to this chicken. her flapper outfit has it’s feathers and she makes sure it has a little bow on. personally I’d vote for it to be a silkie chicken, they’re often pets and they feel like something you would see a girl carry around in her purse like a crusty little white dog

I’d like to see Mimzy as this once great flapper. she was a spunky, women’s rights activist, party girl with a statement pet chicken who now enjoys more laidback club activities in hell. she knows Alastor may not be the best guy but he showed her support at some point and who’s she to shame a friend? I get that’s what her character is supposed to be but she sounds way to active and insincere in her lines to seem remotely genuine about much of anything.

sorry, this kinda just turned into a Mimzy rant instead of a Mimzy chicken rant! I hope my point still came across, give my girl a chicken! as always I’ll say that your entitled to your own opinion, if you like Mimzy or would do a rewrite of her differently that’s great!

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Rose Under The Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc/Jake/Steven) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Pet death, grief

A/N: Yeah I cried writing this btw. I love cats so much and like this shit hurted :'D

Taglist: @bad4amficideas @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @lokisremainingsanity @mundivagantsoul @furblrwurblr @zoleea-exultant @latenightcravingz @daygirl26 @thelastemzy @leahnicole1219 @marsmallow433 @crazyunsexycool

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Chapter 8:

Everybody Loves Cats!

It was a full day after Puck made her miraculous reappearance, and you were delighted for her sweet fluffy company. She was such a cuddly little bed partner, and whenever the stress of the day became too much, she knew exactly what you needed.

She would roll over and show her belly, stick her tongue out at you with her eyes as large as saucers, or do… that weird thing cats do where they’re chill one second and just hurl themselves off into who-knows-what and it never failed to make you smile and cheer you up. Puck was more than content to receive chin scratches and some of her chicken-flavored dreamies that she went nuts for.

Oh, and her mouse stuffed with catnip. She adored that little thing. She would carry it around and make little noises with it (when she wasn’t sitting in the windows chirping at birds) and bat it around like she was playing her own private sports-game. Ah, cats.

They always had a way of making you feel close to your parents; your dad in particular. He always had cats around, as long as you can remember. You remember seeing his eyes light up when he would bring home a fresh little stray after he brought them home.

Your father had a particular soft spot for elderly cats. As a little girl, you once asked him, “Daddy, why don’t you ever get kittens? They like to play! Old kitties just sleep.”

You remember him smiling as he pet one of the said elderly cats, Cleo, he named her. She was a large, fluffy monstrosity who seemed to eat up snuggles like you saw squirrels eat acorns.

He gave you a look that had infinite depths of patience for your little girl questions; and chuckled. “Well, honey. You have to think of it from their point of view.”

Cleo stretched her paws up to his shoulder and bumped her head against his jaw with a tone-deaf purr.

“A lot of people abandon their older pets in favor of new ones.” He held up a finger as he educated you. “For example, say one family wanted to gift their son or daughter a cat for Christmas, but they already had one. That cat was older, couldn’t keep up, and had no teeth and the child just didn’t engage with that cat as much as they used to. So… they take their old cat to a shelter and leave them so they can get a newer or younger cat. Just to do it again when the same situation arises… or worse.”

“What could be badder than that?” You asked, already feeling sad for the metaphorical cat your dad was speaking about.

“Some people are extra mean to their pets.” Your father sighed, stroking Cleo’s fur as she turned in his lap, rubbing her whole body against his belly as he twisted his desk chair to fully face you. “Some people, who are like that, will take their kitties and just… leave them somewhere. So they get lost and can’t find their way home.”

“That’s so mean!” You whined, already feeling tears of frustration at such a mean thought. Were people really that mean to their kitties? And their puppies?

Your dad nods with a soft hum, smiling softly as Cleo leans into your face, sniffing you. Her creamy orange fur begging to be touched, you give in and sink your short, pudgy fingers into her soft fur, giggling when she made a loud “mrrp” noise and leaned into your touch.

“Someone did the same thing to Cleo, y’know?” He says to you quietly. “They were mean. They taped her up in a box and just left her by a dumpster.”

You gasped, offended; because Cleo was a good kitty! Why would anyone do that to Cleo? Yeah she was silly and didn’t play very much, but she was nice! She liked kisses, and even stranger, she liked to hop in the shower with your dad! Kitties don’t normally like water!

“But why?” You ask, your tiny voice squeaking with emotion as Cleo happily cuddled into your awkward pets.

“I don’t know. Maybe they got a new cat and didn’t want her. Or maybe the partner of somebody didn’t want her around. Or… they’re just not a nice person, honey. We just don’t know.” He sighed deeply, looking down at you with a saddened expression. He hated having to explain others’ cruelty to you. You shouldn't be so exposed to these things, but… it was better than lying to you. And that hurt him worse.

“But. It worked out in Cleo’s favor.” He smiled again at you as you leaned into his lap, tipping your head forward with a giggle as Cleo headbutted you softly, rubbing her fluffy cheek on yours.

“She’s got us, she’s got a belly full of food, and a nice cuddly home.”

“Is that why we have Chester, too?” You asked him.

Your dad nodded, looking over at the black cat who slept soundly in the windowsill, his fur almost glowing orange as the sun’s rays hit him. He wasn’t as old as Cleo, but he was getting up there in kitty years. “Yeah. We especially love black cats, okay? They’re very special because people are mean to them, too.”

You frowned up at him. “But why?”

“Some people consider them bad luck, or evil. So people hurt them… or just abandon them, like Cleo. Somebody left Chester in his carrier outside the pound. They were…” His mouth twisted as he tried to think of a way to explain what was going to happen to one of his furry companions. You were so young, you shouldn’t have to grasp the concept of death, but he had to find a way to explain it.

“They were going to put him to sleep if nobody adopted him.”

“But why? He can sleep by himselfs.” You retort.

You dad rests his hand on the top of your head, a pained smile on his face at your innocence.

“Putting an animals to sleep means…” He sighed. “They go to sleep forever. They don’t get to wake up again.”

“But don’t they get hungry? Chester always wakes up when he’s hungry…”

“They don’t feel anything anymore. They just get sleepy, fall asleep… and don’t wake up.” Cleo hopped onto your father’s desk, casually batting his mouse off the pad so she could sit on it for whatever reason as your father scooped you up and pulled you into his lap.

“But why?” You ask again.

Oh, the endless who’s, what’s, and why’s of a learning mind. He loved talking to you, but it was hard to, on this subject.

“Do you remember when your grandma passed away? When we had to put her in the casket and in the ground?” He slowly asked.

“Yeah…” You frowned, clinging to his shirt. You barely remembered it. You were little when it happened. Sure, you weren’t that much older, now. You were a whole eight years old, now. Grandma passed away when you were four.

“You remember how I told you she couldn’t come back?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s like that. Only for pets. And it’s not… it’s not natural.”

“But why do they have to do it? Why can’t they find homes?” You ask, looking up at him with watery eyes.

That almost happened to Chester? Chester was your best friend, he snuggled you to sleep every night, gave you kisses with his scratchy tongue, would sit on the bathroom counter when you took a bath… and would sometimes help you sneak snacks when you weren’t supposed to.

“Some places can’t afford to take care of an animal for a long time. Or, if the animal is very sick and won’t get better, it’s the more humane option instead of just leaving them in a cage.” He says gently, rubbing your back. “Or… if they’re old. Like Chester and Cleo.”

“I don’t like that.” You say stubbornly.

“I know, baby.” He chuckles softly. “So, now do you understand? Why we love old kitties?”

“Yeah! Just cuz they don’t do the flippies that the kittens do doesn’t make ‘em boring.” You pout. “And they don’t bite.”

“Some of them do.” Your dad reminds you with a chuckle.

You watch as Cleo licks her paws, a rather happy and content look on her face as her fluffy tail flicks around. Suddenly, another question pops into your head.

“Daddy, why do you like kitties so much?” You ask, reaching out to scratch Cleo on her chin, earning a happy noise from her.

“Well, it’s just… in the family, kiddo. My mom always had cats, my grandma always had cats… your great auntie, Ellen, she has cats.” He chuckled. “I don’t know why so much as I just do. Always have. And now, I adopt older cats so they can live their old fluffy lives in peace.”

“Yeah… okay.” You say, satisfied with that answer.

“And remember what I said, Lil’ Bit?” Your father asked, pulling a book from the edge of his desk. On the cover of this book, there were pictures of a thing that looked like an alligator, there was a kitty, and pictures of different kinds of fish on it. You can make out a few words, "Myths and Beliefs".

He flipped the pages until it opened to a page with pictures of different kinds of cats, including…

“Daddy!” You gasp, pointing at the book. “That’s a kitty mummy!”

Your father chuckles. “Yeah, the ancient Egyptians believed cats to be protectors and good luck charms. They would even dress their cats in jewelry. The reason that cat was mummified was probably because their owner wanted their pet to come with them to the afterlife.” His finger scans the page to a highlighted passage.

“Some of them believed that their gods could inhabit cats and other animals to check in on humans.”

“That’s weird.” You pout stubbornly, not understanding.

Your father, ever the patient man, laughed softly as he kissed the crown of your head. “Maybe so. But I like to think that owners loved their pets so much, that their pets are probably happy and waiting for them to meet them in the afterlife later.”

“...So will I see Cleo one day?” You asked.

The moment the words left your mouth, your father felt his heart lurch in his chest. He certainly didn’t expect that question to come out of your mouth. The weight of it almost knocked him out of his chair, if it weren't for your weight grounding him, he would have. He couldn’t even fathom being in a world without you, he didn’t dare imagine what it would be like to lose you.

But… he couldn’t leave your question unanswered.

“Yeah. One day, in a very long time. I’m sure Cleo, when she’s there, will be waiting for more scratches. Chester too. So remember, even if they pass away… you’ll see them again. It’ll just take a while.”

“What are my two favorite scholars discussing today?” Your mother’s voice rang out as she kicked the snow off her boots and set them in front of the fireplace to dry.

You slid off your dad’s lap and ran to your mom as she put her coat on the peg by the door. She turned and caught you mid-leap and spun you around, planting ice-cold kisses all over your face, leaving her bright red lipstick marks in their wake.

“So! What were you two talking about?” She hummed, walking over to your dad as she balanced you on her hip.

Your father adjusted his glasses and set the book down, leaning up to give your mother a sweet kiss.

“Oh, you know. Just about cats and the afterlife.” He grinned.

“Oh, but of course!” Your mother snorted. “A totally normal and reasonable topic for a child to learn about at eight years old.”

“Mommy!” You say, tugging her sweater impatiently.

“Yes, my love?” Your mother smiled down at you, her smeared lipstick at the corner of her lips. The rest of it was currently on you and four father’s faces and lips.

“Did you know that ‘gyptians mummied kitties?” You say, bouncing as you explained. “Oh! And–and that they gave ‘em fancy necklaces?”

“Why, yes. I did know about that. But why don’t you give me a refresher course while your dad and I start making dinner?” She hummed.

“Okay!” You chirped, hopping back down onto the floor, stopping to pet Chester as he slowly sidled up next to you, his sleek black tail wrapping around your small leg as he looked up at you, giving you a very slow blink.

“And daddy said I can see Chester and Cleo one day in the aff–after–afterlife, too!” You stumble the words out innocently as Chester walks with you into the kitchen.

“Oh… did he, now.” Your mother said, squinting as she slowly turned her head to look at your father.

You didn’t hear the rough swallow he made, but he definitely flushed and tugged at his shirt collar awkwardly.

“Ah.. well… you see...”

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You sighed nostalgically as the memory finished playing out. You gently held the book in your hands as you remembered that day. It was the very same book your father had read to you that day. Newer, and less-used of course, but it was still the same one.

God, you remembered how sad you were when Cleo died. You were only ten years old when she passed. You’d come home from school to your dad, his eyes red and puffy, holding onto you tight as your mother spoke to you softly, telling you that Cleo had “left”. You knew what that meant. You remember telling your dad what he told you, about seeing them again one day, and that seemed to make him smile at last.

But when Chester died? Oh, how that broke your heart. You had just turned sixteen, three days after your birthday, to be precise. You were sitting in your bed, legs crossed as you read your textbooks and jotted down notes for your schoolwork.

You didn’t think twice when Chester curled up next to you, purring as he closed his eyes.

You were so engrossed in your work, that you didn’t notice when he stopped purring. You only realized something was amiss when you reached down to pet him, only to find him still. Deathly still... but still warm.

You panicked and tried to wake him up, before shouting for your parents. Nothing could have been done. Chester decided to spend his last breaths snuggling you in your bed, his favorite cuddle spot. He wanted you to know that he loved you that much.

You were beside yourself for months. Until one day, on your walk home, you found a little cat. Small, but not a kitten; she was very malnourished and flea-infested. Solid black, just like Chester.

She was snuggled up tight against an old mailbox, shivering and wet from the rain, meowing in such a heartbreaking tone. You scooped her up on instinct and whisked her home.

You’d named her Nibbles. On account that she liked to nibble on people’s shoelaces.

You had Nibbles for several more years, until she passed away from feline leukemia, just before you moved to London. You loved her well, and she was with you when you lost your parents, comforting you when you were at your lowest.

You swallowed the lump in your chest and sucked in a breath as you put the book back into place on the shelf. You didn’t even notice your eyes were filling with tears until your vision blurred, and when you blinked, fat tears rolled down your cheeks.

Puck sat at your feet, a paw on your shoe and meowed up at you questioningly.

You sniffed hard and scooped up the furry little critter, nuzzling into her fur as you tried to push the feelings of grief away.

Puck leaned up and licked your salty tears, her tongue scraping your skin in a comforting way as she purred unusually loudly.

It takes a few minutes and you finally smile, kissing Puck on her tiny furry forehead. “I needed that. Thanks, you fluffy little terrorist.”

Puck purred happily and hopped out of your arms, satisfied at her job well-done and scampered off to the front of the store as the front door’s bell rang.

You take a deep breath and make sure your face is clean of any evidence of your tears and headed up front to see a young man, looking around curiously.

“Hi! Welcome to Here Today Books!” You chirp, “What can I help you with, today?”

“Um…” He says awkwardly. “I’m looking for a book.”

You can’t help but chuckle, hands on your hips. “That checks out!” You joke playfully.

“Oh! I… right.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. Aw, was he blushing? “I’m… I’m studying and, uhm…”

“Well, I have plenty of textbooks on a myriad of subjects. You looking for anything in particular?” You ask him politely.

He nods twice, “Yeah, um. It’s… for a history course. My professor told us to pick a civilization to write an essay on. And, it’s kind of hard to find the books on the subject I need because of the topics…”

You smile politely and wait for him to finish. Something about this young man told you he was painfully shy, and didn’t like much social interaction. Not unlike Marc, but he carried himself with a few degrees more of anxiety and social awkwardness than Steven did.

“Er…” He floundered.

“Let me guess… it’s ancient Egypt, isn’t it?” You grin.

“H-How’d you know?” He said, blinking at you.

“I have a friend who’s obsessed with it. I know quite a bit about it, myself. Is there a specific topic in particular you want to start with?”

He nods eagerly, “Yeah! Uh, I wouldn’t mind stuff on their myths, legends, and religions, if you got them?”

“Sure! I’ll just be a minute. Go on ahead and wait up front by the counter, for me.” You hum, turning to disappear into the depths of your shop.

He didn’t go stand by the counter, he just awkwardly stared at Puck, who looked at him from her cozy sweater-nest, looking at him through slitted pupils as the tip of her tail thrashed.

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You came back to see the man looking through random clearance books and upon noticing you, he smiled widely.

“Are those it?” He asked, gesturing to the two books in your arms.

“Yep!” You chirp, walking behind the counter. “Will these work?”

He slowly walks up to the counter, eyeing Puck nervously. “Uh–yeah. Definitely.”

“Perfect… that’ll be… ten pounds.” You say, typing it all in on the register.

The young man fishes out the notes and all too quickly shoves them into your waiting hand. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off Puck, whose fur was beginning to bristle as she stared at the man.

“Okie dokie. Come back anytime. I got plenty of books like this just gathering dust.” You chuckle, putting his “new” books into a canvas bag and handing it over to him.

His sleeve rolled up and you noticed a mark on his forearm. It was strange, but not the strangest you’ve ever seen. It looked almost like a–

Your thoughts were interrupted when Puck lunged at him, hissing and spitting, swiping her paws at him with claws fully out and open, her tail puffed out and stiff.

You gasp in shock. “Puck! Bad girl!”

You panic; trying to reach for Puck as the man frantically pulls away, now sporting a red scratch to the back of his hand.

“I’m so sorry! She’s not normally… She never does this!” You apologize profusely, afraid of the ramifications a complaint could bring should he report this little “incident”. Sure, it was minor, but if he was the type to make a big something out of nothing…

“It–It’s okay.” He says quickly, stepping away. “Cats don’t normally l-like me, for some reason…”

Puck thrashed in your arms, leaving small welts in your arms as she growled lowly in her little chest, staring at the man, her usually sweet and docile eyes full of malice.

“Puck!” You wince, trying to calm her down. “Stop! What’s gotten into you?”

The man scurries out of your shop finally, and Puck starts to calm down in your arms.

It takes a few minutes until the black ball of rage begins to settle, and you set her back onto the counter.

Her ears pin back and her eyes get large as she looks up at you, seemingly full of guilt at what she’d unintentionally done to you.

Her little nose touches the scratches she left on your arms and you sigh; “They’re just scratches, Puck… I know you didn’t mean it.”

You rub her chin to help ease her poor feelings at scratching her human. “Okay, okay… I forgive you. But no dreamies for you tonight, missy!”

Puck leaps off the counter, slinking off into the shadows of your shop and you're left with throbbing injuries to tend to with your tiny first-aid kit. You just couldn’t figure out why Puck was so upset about that guy. He mentioned cats didn’t like him, but why? You’ve never met a cat that didn’t like you.

What was his deal?

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Elsewhere, in their flat, Marc winced and dropped his glass of water, the ceramic shattering on the floor, making Layla jump.

“Gah! Marc! What’s wrong?” She asked him, carefully avoiding the broken glass as she moved closer.

“My fucking…” He groaned, looking down at his arms. He was wearing a simple cotton t-shirt today, so it left his thick forearms fully visible. “My arms! I don’t know!”

And Layla certainly saw the thin red marks up and down his arms. She clamped her jaw shut.

Oh, she knew all right. He just wasn’t ready to know.

Not yet, as Taweret told her.

Not yet.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Chapter 9: Link

[sadhours]

Please god picture this:

Billy pinning Steve up against the cold tiled shower wall in the high school. He's fed up with the mind games, the pecocking, the teasing. Steve, intimidated but not standing down, rolls his eyes and struggles underneath Billy's mean smirk and intense stare. He mutters out a "Fucks sake Hargrove, get off me".. Billy, voice laced with need, replies "Make me."

Thank you for this request. I’ve been wanting to delve into Harringrove but haven’t really been super confident. I hope you like this, I had a fucking field day writing it. I love these two.

warnings; 18+ minors dni, all smut baby, Steve is having bi-panic

Steve used to like basketball. Back when it was actually fun and not a goddamn pissing contest with the new blonde asshole from California. Practice went from a nice way to blow off steam and hangout with people he’d known forever without pressure. Then Billy joined the team and every fucking practice felt like a battle. Steve couldn’t pinpoint why he was so dead set on one-uping him but fuck, was it exhausting. The thing was, Steve thought he didn’t care about the status bullshit anymore. Then when it all fell apart with Nancy, he felt himself getting wrapped back up in it due to the distraction it supplied. Or maybe it was the way Billy was so pushy about it, like because it mattered to him, it should matter to Steve.

Today’s practice was particularly brutal. Billy was making illegal moves left and right but Coach didn’t call it out a single fucking time, like he thought letting Billy play dirty would inspire Steve to play better. The motherfucker talked so much. That was the worst part, he’d hog the ball up and down the court, spouting goddamn monologues at Steve. It was clear from the taunting look in his bright blue eyes that he got something from taunting Steve, whatever the hell it was is a mystery but it got under Steve’s skin.

The night he’d been told Nancy skipped school with Jonathan, Steve tried to jerk off before bed and got sick when he’d thought about her. Then something fucking weird happened and he thought about the shit Billy had said to him on the court and in the shower. It didn’t make him go soft in his hand like he’d expected and he shamefully stroked his dick, imagining Billy criticizing how he was jerking himself off. When he’d spilled spunk all over his hand and stomach, he felt so incredibly embarrassed that he did so while thinking of Billy Hargrove of all people. Steve thought about it the next day when he’d seen Billy and his whole body went white hot with shame and unfortunately, arousal.

Steve tries not to think of it as he showers now. How the fuck he ended up alone in the locker room with Hargrove was a mystery to him. They both took too long shit talking after Coach excused them all. Steve curses himself about it, knowing no one sticks around for long and Coach leaves as soon as he excuses them. Feeling uneasy around Hargrove wasn’t new but it was made ten times worse by the fact that he’d become Steve’s jack off material.

They’re showering. Right next to each other. There’s at least 20 other nozzles Billy could have chosen but no, he picks the one directly to Steve’s left. They’re lathering up, silent and fuck, it’s awkward. Steve won’t let his eyes wander, he’d already done so before so he knows what Billy’s working with but if he does it now, he risks popping a boner and Billy might actually beat his face in if that happens.

“You really play like shit, Harrington,” Billy says, eyes rolling over to Steve.

“Do you ever fucking shut up?”

Hargrove snorts, reaching out to shut Steve’s steam off, “Do you ever make shots?”

Steve turns the faucet back on, “When you’re not breathing down my fucking neck.”

“Did you guys even win a single game before I showed up?”

Steve thinks back, of course they did but to be fair, they’d been winning way more in the short month Billy’s been on the team. He can’t inflate this fuckers ego even more, though.

“Yeah,” he settles on, rinsing his hair out and turning off the flow of water.

“Bullshit,” Billy scoffs.

Steve turns to him finally, telling himself that when Billy’s eyes lower that he’s definitely not looking at his cock. There’s no way.

“Why would I lie about that?”

Hargrove frowns, “To make yourself feel better.”

“It’s high school basketball, I don’t really give a shit.”

“Easy for you to say, pretty boy. Daddy’s gonna make sure you get into college no matter what,” Billy retorts, shutting off his shower.

Steve rolls his eyes, “You’ve got no fucking clue.”

It happens quick, Hargrove’s grabbing his wrists and walks him back against the wall. The tiles are cold as Steve’s back is pressed against them. Billy’s palm presses against Steve’s chest and he shoves him harder against the wall. His skin feels hot against Steve’s. He can’t get a boner from this. He can’t. Grandma’s face, dead puppies, every trick in the book to keep his dick from stirring.

“For fucks sake, Hargrove,” Steve seethes, “Get the fuck off me!”

Billy licks his lower lip, smirk spreading against his face as he says, desperate, “Make me, Steve.”

It’s the first time he’s ever called him by his first name and Steve can’t help the way his dick fills out from it, he stares up at Billy with big, brown wide eyes. They hold onto the stare, each of them panting but Billy’s the first to break it, glancing between their bodies and Steve can’t help but follow. They’re both achingly hard, tips red and leaking an absurd amount.

“Knew it,” Billy mutters before he’s crashing his mouth agains Steve’s, teeth clacking before they both roll their tongues out to taste the other.

His words taint Steve’s mind. What the hell did he mean? Did he know Steve’s been jerking off to thought of him? Was Steve being obvious? He thinks about it too hard apparently because Billy pulls away from the kiss.

“It’s okay, ya know,” he mumbles to which the brunette nods, it feels too good for it to be wrong.

“Okay,” Steve chokes out, wrapping his fingers around the back of Billy’s neck and pulls him back so he can lick into his mouth. Fuck expectations, fuck shame, Billy tastes too good and Steve’s dick wants this more than anything to stop. He’s pushing his body against Steve’s, their cocks rub against each other and it pulls a groan from him, Billy swallowing it while he grinds against Steve. Now he’s glad everyone left before them.

Hargrove is a talker so it shouldn’t surprise Steve when he pulls back, “You been wanting this, Harrington?”

But Steve isn’t easy so he grunts, “Shut up.”

The laugh that erupts from the blonde boy is cruel yet so god damn sexy that Steve grabs Billy’s hips and pulls him closer. It’s eager on Steve’s part but he can’t find it in him to care. Billy’s right, he’s been wanting this and he’s gonna let himself indulge in it.

Billy’s hands grab their cocks, loosely stroking them in his grip while he groans into Steve’s mouth. He’s never felt anything like it. He panics momentarily because shit, this is gay but Hargrove is pretty almost like a girl so is it that gay? He doesn’t have time to really think much about it because Billy’s dropping to his knees but grips Steve’s cock at the base and squeezes.

“Oh, shit,” Steve exhales, “Shit, shit, shit.”

Billy Hargrove is gonna suck his dick. He almost can’t believe it’s happening so he doesn’t dare look away. He’s waiting for the sound of his alarm to go off, this has to be a fucking wet dream. Billy’s lips are so red and swollen from the kissing and fuck, Steve’s worried he’s gonna blow his load the second Billy wraps his lips around him.

“Jesus Christ,” he says in disbelief as it happens. He doesn’t ruin it by coming immediately but his hips jerk and he shoves himself down Billy’s throat with the motion and Steve’s confronted with the fact that Billy’s done this before because he doesn’t choke or gag, instead he sucks, hard. His blue eyes intense as he stares back up at Steve. “Dear fucking lord,” he curses, clenching his fists where he holds them against the tile.

He sees Hargrove’s lips curl up with the hint of smile and he’s annoyed slightly. He just knows this is making Billy just that much more full of himself. It’s barely began but it’s the top tier of blow jobs, the best Steve’s ever had. The way Hargrove swallows around his cock which feels so fucking incredible, he’s whining because of it. He wonders what Billy’s thinking. Obviously, he likes Steve in some kind of way to even wanna get his cock in his mouth. But Steve wonders if the pretty boy bullshit was because Billy legitimately thinks he’s pretty. No time to really stew on it though because Billy cradles his balls in his hand while he bobs up and down on Steve’s pulsing length, sucking his cheeks in whenever he descends. He looks downright ethereal, pink lips, flushed cheeks and glassy blue eyes. Fuck, Billy’s gorgeous. He’s floored by it, moving his hands into the damp curls at the crown of Billy’s head.

“Fuck,” he drawls, “You’re so pretty.”

Billy pulls off of him with a pop, “You’re the pretty one, pretty boy.”

Steve fucking whimpers, it’s pathetic but god damn, the name has taken on a whole new meaning for him. Billy’s wanted him. This whole time.

He curls his tongue around his tip and Steve can’t tear his eyes away, jaw open while pants fall out. It’s never been like this. When Steve’s with girls, there’s a goal in mind, he’s focused on getting off but now, he wants this to last forever and somehow he’s able to hold off on his orgasm, though Billy’s blowing him better than any girl ever has. Then he’s moving away, to lick at Steve’s balls and seriously, he’s in fucking heaven. Girls ignore his sack.

“Jesus,” he breathes, watching in awe while the blonde strokes him slowly, thumb padding against his slit.

Steve’s flooded with the promise of his orgasm, Billy mouthing at his sack while he pulls on his cock.

“Shit,” he curses out, voice wrecked, “Gonna cum.”

Billy moves to wrap his lips around his head and sinks down, swallowing his length and Steve busts, shooting cum down Billy’s throat. He can feel Billy gulp it down which only pulls more from him. He looks obscene as he sits back, lips puffy and pupils blown.

Steve pants against the wall as he stares down at him. He’s a little perturbed as he realizes he wants to get his lips around Hargrove’s cock because in all his times of jacking off with Billy at the forefront of his mind, he was never pleasing the blond. But he wants to now. Wants to see if he’s up to the job.

“Your turn?” Steve proposes, a little shy.

Billy chuckles, standing up and grabbing a hold of Steve’s anxious fingers.

“Don’t know if you’re experienced enough to handle it, pretty boy.”

Steve’s eyebrows knit close, Billy might be right. He’s never had a cock in his mouth but he thinks he’s a quick leaner.

“I can try,” he mumbles but Billy just pats his cheek.

“Next time,” he whispers before making his way toward his locker.

Next time, Steve hangs on the words.

[noorpersona]

Broken Telephone Pt.1

You talk too much and have no shame. You later find out Kugisaki can’t keep a secret.

Chaos ensues.

It was a normal day.

Well, as normal as it could be at a school for sorcerers.

You’d just finished a long, obscene amount of useless classes that in no way would help you in the future as you sat on the steps of the school’s entrance, feeling the sun hit your face. The spring weather was nice, sun shining and heat settling in, with cool breezes of wind to neutralize it. The sound of the wind through the trees was calming.

Even though you couldn’t hear any of it due to Kugisaki’s talking.

You didn’t mind it though. In a school with a shockingly small amount of students, and an even smaller first-year class, you liked the empty spaces to be filled with noise. Kugisaki and Itadori did that well.

The silence was boring anyway.

“-I swear he’s so childish, there’s a reason why girls don’t like him you know.” You zone in on her irritated voice, taking a sip from the drink you bought from the vending machine.

Ah right. She was complaining about Itadori. What about him, though, you couldn’t remember. Maybe it was about the sudden revival from the dead, but honestly, it’s a toss-up at this point.

“Girls don’t like him? I mean he’s childish sure, but they’re are plenty of girls who like that.” Despite the fiery personality of Kugisaki, you, on the other hand, were much the calmer side, more cool-headed you could say. Of course, there are moments where you lose said cool, but for the most part, you’d consider yourself a pacifist.

This is ironic considering your livelihood at the moment is killing curses.

Maybe that’s why you and Kugisaki got along so well. Well, that and the fact that you two were the only girls in first-year, and like she said, ‘Us girls gotta stay together. Can’t have the boys running the show’ which you do agree with. In the jujutsu world there aren’t many respected female sorcerers, and Kugisaki intends to change that. Along with Maki-senpai.

You found it admirable. But you personally wouldn’t go through the trouble. Fame and demanded respect from others you didn’t care about wasn’t something you were exactly interested in.

“Hah? Really? Well, would you date him?” You go to respond, but pause. She had a good point. Now, you didn’t have any problems with Itadori, even though he swallowed a special-grade cursed object, that was a little weird.

Okay, a lot weird.

But for the most part, he was just a friend. You did care a lot for him surprisingly when he ‘died’ you were sadder than you expected yourself to be, and a lot angrier when he was found alive, but honestly…

He simply didn’t do it for you.

“Nah, he isn’t my type.” You say causally, taking another sip of your drink. Kugisaki quirks her brow.

“What is your type then?” She asks, slyly studying you, probably trying to make sure that you don’t lie. Your form stays relaxed as you think about it. A person immediately pops in your head and without thinking you blurt it out.

“Someone like Fushiguro. How about you?” The sentence makes the chill atmosphere, or as chill as it could be with someone like Kugisaki, break in an instant.

“What?! You can’t just drop a bomb like that and try to pass it off!” Your eyes widen as she gets inches away from your face. The flame in her eyes was so close you could practically feel the heat coming off them.

“Fushiguro?! You like him?!” You start to sweat a little at the accusing tone in her voice, the pressure making your heart suddenly beat ten times faster. You could imagine this is how criminals feel when being interrogated.

“Uh… Yeah? I mean, what’s not the like? He’s attractive, smart, and puts himself before others.” You start to list off, stopping when you hear a ‘tch’ of disapproval. Honestly, you could’ve listed dozens of other reasons. Though you’ve only known him for a couple of months, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fallen hard, probably more than you’re letting on right now. You blush slightly at your thoughts, but Kugisaki doesn’t seem to notice.

“And I here I thought you had good taste. You’re into guys who act all high mighty, and who probably likes to light oil slicks on fire or kick stray cats when no ones watching. I can’t trust anyone these days.” Her voice turns dramatically sad, and you snort at the strangely detailed insult.

“I’m not saying I’m in love with Fushiguro, I’m just saying that he’s not bad to look at. That’s all.” Also wanting to be around him constantly, and get to look at him whenever I want.

Now, you don’t know whether this was a good trait or a bad trait, honestly, it was a gamble at times, but you’re comfortable, you’re absolutely shameless. And while it can be good in some situations, you’ll realize soon enough that this would be your downfall.

Kugisaki starts to make a lot of choked sounds, and before she dies of a heart attack, you decide to take the conversation off you. “Ok then, if I have shitty taste and you’re the queen in choosing partners, what’s you’re type?” Like a cartoon, her mood flips in an instant, and you listen to her ramble about her standards and how most people probably aren’t good enough for her. It was entertaining, to say the least, but when the sun started the set and the cooling breeze got uncomfortable, you both decided to call it night.

You didn’t think much of your confession, for lack of a better word. But little did you know that this ‘confession’ was going to bite you in the ass.

[l3viat8an]

Poly mc: Imagine going to the human world with bros and a bunch of little kids and teens calls poly mc the most ugly person on the street and a fatso, all while laughing.

My friend was called that, and never in my life I wanted to punch a child. They held me back and said it wasn’t worth it.

Fuck them kids and your friend is a better person than me I would’ve helped punch a child- CW: fatphobia / body shaming-

Walking around the human world with your demons is always an…adventure for lack of a better word lol-

Asmo wants to drag you into every little Beauty boutique you pass, Satan wants to take you into every bookstore, Levi the arcade or little comic book shop, Beel every restaurant or café you pass- okay, okay you get the idea, they all want to drag you off and have fun!

But on the nicer days like this~ when the sun is hidden behind some clouds and it’s not too hot, it’s always nice to just go on little walks through the local park together!

It gives the demons a new look on the human world and let’s you show off your hot boyfriends! (Even if nobody’s really looking-)

and you get some much needed human world sunshine! What could be better?-

Until you passed a group of kids at the little play set, the one started pointing and laughing, you can’t hear what the kids are saying yet.

So you crack a joke about the kids being able to tell the boys are demons “Kids can always tell these thing, you know.”

Before laughing and continuing to walk, your group is still out of earshot of the kids but Levi grumbles about kids being dumb and Satan flips them off, Lucifer slaps his hand down, almost immediately, “Satan! Act right, those are children. They don’t know any better.”

Satan grumbles something under his breath.

But all in, all your groups keeps walking getting closer to the little playground and past the laughing kids, “Hey fatso! How much money are you paying to rent these stupid models?” “You know, nobody thinks any of them are actually dating a fat pig like you right?”

To say the demons were ready to punch some children is an understatement-

“Hey, kid c’mon over here fer a minute I just wanna talk.” If the children had any sense they wouldn’t go anywhere near Mammon with that ‘smile’ on his face, Satan isn’t nearly as worry about hiding his true intentions honestly, “I don’t want to talk, I want to punch a child.” Belphie just glares at the children “Tiny humans, really don’t have any manners anymore.”

Asmo looked as if he was in shock before marching up to the children, “Listen, here you brats, because I’m going to give you the lesson your parents never did; Only bitter nasty little humans, judge each other by their looks alone, and only bitter and miserable people decide that everyone else must be. Simply because someone doesn’t fall into your idea of a beauty standard doesn’t mean they’re automatically miserable, or that they’d have to buy love. I’d say you should be you ashamed of yourself but it would be a waste of time.”

Turning on his heel Asmo walks right back over to you, loops your arm through his and starts walking away.

“Wow…it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you get that upset.“ you say a bit impressed “Oh hon, I’m so sorry you had to hear that! But I hate children like that.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek, and keeps walking.

You turn back to see if the others are following yet, and while you can’t hear what Lucifer or Beel said you can see the childrens faces drop and the two start backing away “What are they doing?…..” you’d almost feel bad, but really the kids started it “Probably just a few empty threats, don’t worry about it sweetie~! Now what should we do when they catch up~?”

The demons aren’t going to let a few nasty kids ruin your whole day after all!!

(Tho if you do want the kids to suffer a bit more Belphie can always give them nightmares- and I’m sure Satan or Lucifer have some ‘lovely’ curses-)

[throneofsapphics]

i LOVE your angsty poly!rowaelin x reader fics

can i request more? i will gobble up anything you write not even kidding 💕

some questions are better left alone

Rowaelin x f!Reader

(part two) (part three)

Summary: He shoved a plate of sweets at me. “For both of our sakes,” he said carefully, “I’m going to pretend those words never came out of your mouth. Do you understand?” 

Warnings: Angst, drinking, nightmares, small injury, rowan is mean

Word Count: ~5k 

A/N: You are so sweet! I swear, angst is my love language. Reader is from a foreign court/country, has magic, and is able to mindspeak - I kept it a bit vague!

I scribbled the note, leaving it on my desk in my room. Going out. Not very descriptive, but I was in a rush, I’d forgotten what night it was, and I’d promised a friend I’d meet them - some bard was coming through. 

My mates weren’t opposed to me having friends. They knew I did, I just kept them separated, tried to keep a life separate from the castle. 

Maybe I should’ve left a better note, because a certain Wolf showed up halfway through. I caught a whiff of his scent - fresh too, and I knew he was in the damn tavern. But - I didn’t know if he’d come alone or come after me. 

“I’ll be right back.” I leaned in, whispering to my friend, and keeping my voice low. I slid through the crowd with ease. I spotted him in a shadowy corner, leaning up against the wall. I dropped the glamor after I got within a few feet of him. His eyes glinted, a smirk crossing his face. He had come here after me, and waited for me to track him down. I let out a long breath, but stood next to him. His eyes were constantly scanning the crowd. 

“Why are you here?” I kept my voice low enough that only he could hear me. 

“Enjoying the songs, of course.” His voice was honeyed with false innocence, and I could tell he was messing with me. 

“You missed the one about you.” 

“Shame. Which one?” 

I groaned. “I’m not playing into your ego.” 

“Pity, maybe I should’ve let them see your note.” 

“What’s wrong with my note?” My voice went taut. “And why were you in my rooms?” 

“Two words.” He tutted. 

“I was in a rush.” I hissed, then he handed me the paper. He took it. “You bastard.” I snarled. 

“Calm your tits.” He laughed, “I left a better one - ‘taking Y/N out to have fun for once.’” 

“Thank you.” I said, begrudgingly. He did save me some grief. A lot of grief now that I think about it. 

“I am a bit hurt you left without me. Now, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” A shark-like grin appeared on his face. 

“Are you going to play nice?” I countered, crossing my arms. 

“Me? I’m always nice.” He scoffed. “Besides, I’m your best friend in this world. I have a right to know your other ones.” I rolled my eyes, even though the statement warmed my heart - just a bit. 

“Alright. Best friend.” I teased, “Are you going to scare them off?” 

“Do your mates know about them?” 

“Yes.” I sighed. 

“And who your mates are?” 

“Indeed.” I fought back my annoyance. 

“They’re not scared?” He raised his eyebrows. Any sane person would be intimidated by the Queen and King of Terrasen. 

“I won’t let their majesties anywhere near them.” He chuckled, but I could tell he understood. I wasn’t ashamed of my friends, not by any means, but if either of my mates somehow thought they were a threat … it would make things very difficult. I pushed off the wall, and led him back through the crowd. I reached our booth, about halfway down the wall and with a good view of the stage, and dropped it. Instead of two benches, it was rounded, one long bench around a circular table. Cian, Isla, Effie, and Arran. To their credit, they only gaped for a few seconds, before shuffling around to make room for both of us. I scooched in, and let Fenrys sit next to me. 

I gestured towards each of them, “Effie, Arran, Isla, Cian,” And then towards Fenrys. I was halfway tempted to introduce him as ‘pain in my ass,’ or ‘bastard’, but I went for something that would piss him off more. “Lord Moonbeam.” I bit my lip as he stomped on my foot.

“Please don’t call me that. It’s Fenrys.” 

“Pleased to meet you.” Isla squeaked, her face bright red. The others echoed the sentiment, but thankfully not looking at him like he’s a God. I saw the way he was eyeing her, 

Are you really going to bed my friends? I said in his mind, a bit louder than necessary. 

Why would you deny them a good time? 

I swear to the Gods Fenrys. 

Calm your tits. 

That’s twice you’ve mentioned my tits. Should Aelin be worried? 

Don’t you dare. He growled, but didn’t use that phrase again. 

It shouldn’t have been surprising that he got along well with them. He charmed them easily - none of the bitter bastard I’m used to. He and Isla, to my chagrin, got along very well. I didn’t move to interrupt or interfere, even though I wanted to keep them as far away from each other as possible. They could be cute together, but I had a feeling Fenrys was toying with her - flirting for fun. Maybe she was doing the same. I didn’t know her that well, after all, only meeting her a few weeks ago. 

A few hours later, and after several drinking contests, I was feeling very tipsy. Maybe even drunk. Definitely drunk based on how the room spun. But, with a glamor firmly in place, I’d managed to drink a group of soldiers under the table. Where are they from? I have no idea. But every time one started to eye me in a more-than-friendly way, they seemed to pale, and look away very quickly. It took me a few times to figure out Fenrys was glaring daggers at them. I stomped on his foot. 

“Leave them alone.” I whispered. He gave me an incredulous look. “They don’t deserve you looking like you’ll murder them.” 

“You’re not doing anything.” He countered. 

“I am ignoring them.” I emphasized. “And that works well enough.” 

Effie returned, sliding a goblet across the table towards me. Fenrys snatched it before I could, and took a sip. He nearly spit it out, his face turning red, and shoved it back at me. “What is that?” He coughed. 

“Apparently something too strong for your delicate sensibilities.” I took a large sip, enjoying the warmth it provided as the liquid burned, sliding down my throat. 

He gaped at me - but I kept drinking it anyway. 

“It’s a homemade liquor.” Effie replied instead. He grimaced, staring at my glass like it might jump out and attack him. “It grows on you.” She added, biting back a laugh at his expression. 

I finished it, and stood to bring it back up to the bar, but swayed slightly on my feet. Before I could grip the table, Fenrys’s arm shot out to steady me. 

“We’re going home.” He stood. 

“You don’t get to make my decisions.” 

Effie grabbed the glass from my hands. “It’s almost closing anyways.” 

“Traitor.” I mumbled. The others had left ten minutes ago. 

Effie lived above the bar - how we met in the first place. “Go home.” She ordered instead, giving Fenrys a look. One that said - get her home safe, like I needed a minder. 

He only laughed and looped an arm through mine, half-dragging me out the door. 

“You’re not nearly as drunk as me.” I complained, disentangling my arm once we’d left the building. I watched my feet carefully on the cobblestones. 

“I didn’t beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest.”

“So that’s who they were.” I mumbled, and apparently wasn’t paying attention, because I walked right into a column. 

“Fuck.” I muttered, stumbling backwards and pressing a hand against my face. My cheekbone will be bruised. Fenrys grabbed me under my arms before I could fall, and howled. 

“Asshole.” I muttered, shaking off his grip. He looped his arm through mine, and didn’t let me wiggle out this time. Thankfully, we were almost to the gates and Fenrys quit singing. I tugged my hood up as we got closer to the castle. Nobody needs to know just how drunk I am. 

“They’ll see you stumbling.” He drawled. 

“They’ll know to mind their business.” I snipped back at him. 

“Oooh. Someone’s not looking forward to seeing their mates.” He teased me, his voice a sing-song. I sent a vulgar gesture his way, and he just snorted, dragging me through the halls and depositing me at their door. I waited until he’d walked away before heading to my rooms instead, no sense in waking them up. Besides, on the nights I go out I usually sleep in my own rooms anyways, wanting to wash the alcohol off - and Aelin and Rowan need time alone. They don’t say it, but they were a couple long before me. Maybe I’m assuming things. I’m too drunk to think too much. 

-

Normally Y/N stays in her rooms if she’s gone out, and they won’t argue or try to drag her into their rooms. If she needs space, they’ll let her have it. 

But, tonight, Rowan had a feeling. A feeling he needed to be there. To see her. Like something might be wrong. He slipped out of bed, looking at the clock. Three hours past midnight. She should be back by now. 

“Rowan?” Aelin mumbled sleepily, her eyes opening. 

“I’m going to check on Y/N.” 

Those turquoise eyes opened further. “I’ll come with you.” She yawned. He didn’t fight his wife as she climbed out of bed, grabbing a robe and wrapping it around herself. They moved quickly and silently, through the passage that connects both of their rooms. 

He slowly pushed the door open. Asleep, sprawled out on her side, on the couch. 

Safe - but a giant blue bruise blooming on her cheek. And absolutely reeking of alcohol. Did she get into some sort of brawl? He’d kill Fenrys. Slowly. Aelin placed a hand on his arm, but he could tell she was just as angry. 

-

“Y/N.” A voice murmured, and I felt a hand running down my arm. A mumbled, some intelligible noise. 

“Y/N. Wake up.” The voice, feminine, was more insistent. Aelin. Why was Aelin in here?. 

-

Her eyes opened, glassy, pupils slightly dilated. Drunk. And very drunk. How fucking much did she drink? Y/N could almost drink Aelin under the table. 

“Petal.” His mate's voice was low. “Did you get in a fight?” 

“A what?” She was confused. 

“Did you get in a rutting brawl?” I said from the door, not bothering to keep my voice low. Aelin turned and glared at me. 

“What?” 

My eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb.” 

Her hand went up to her cheek, wincing, and she threw her head back in laughter, nearly howling. “I walked into a pillar.” She said in between laughs.” 

Aelin was biting back a laugh, but I was just getting more pissed. Maybe it was a bit funny - but she was drunk enough she got herself hurt. 

“Where was Fenrys?” My sharp tone had Aelin cutting a look at me. Don’t start.  

“Caught me before I could hit the ground.” Her words slurred together. 

“Come on.” Aelin tugged at her arm, pulling her up. “I’m not going to let you choke on your own vomit.” 

She looked offended. “I am not throwing up.” The words came out very insistent. Aelin gave her a bemused smile, but pulled her up anyway, leading her towards her bathroom. “You reek.” She told her.

“That is rude.” Y/N stuck her tongue out. 

I rolled my eyes, but followed them, grabbing a nightgown for Y/N to put on. 

“What do I smell like?” She asked Aelin, stumbling next to her. Aelin’s arm wrapped around her waist holding her closely. 

“Right now? Alcohol.” 

Y/n let out an over dramatic sigh. “No, what’s my scent? You’re jasmine and lemon verbena, and he’s pine and snow.” 

“Nutmeg and honey.” I answered from behind her, and her head turned, giving me a goofy smile. 

“That’s nice.” She mumbled. I fought the smile threatening to form on my face.  

-

Aelin was very sweet, helping me get in the tub, even washing me. I tried to stop her, but she cut me a glare. A nasty one. After that I let her. 

“Who did you go see?” She asked, scrubbing my shoulders. 

“Some Bard came into town.” I said, before sighing. Her touch feels incredible. “You have magic fingers.” I told her. 

Her eyes crinkled, “and you’re drunk.” 

“Maybe a bit. Fenrys told me I beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest.” 

“The Bane?” Rowan’s voice came from the door. Low. And deadly low. 

“That’s what he said.” I confirmed, looking at Aelin instead, who pressed her lips in a tight line. “What’s wrong with the bane?” 

“They have a reputation.” 

“I have a reputation.” I exclaimed. 

“Excuse me?” Her voice grew a bit shrill. 

“I drank half of them under the table.” 

“Right.” She breathed out. 

-

She thought Rowan was going to explode when he heard her say she has a reputation. He relaxed - barely. He needed something to do or he might blow up. 

“Rowan get a towel.” I ordered without looking, and heard him moving around, before the soft fabric was pressed in my hands. “Help her out.” 

“I don’t nee-” I pressed my finger to her lips. It’ll help him. I told her, speaking mind to mind. 

Okay. Her sweet voice floated through my mind. 

Even though anger rolled from him in waves, his hands were gentle as he lifted her out, holding her steady. I wordlessly handed him the towel, and gave him the chance to fuss, slipping a nightgown over her - one he’d already picked out. He went far enough to make her clean her mouth, and dried her hair for her. That brought a smile to my lips. 

“Thank you.” She told him after, and me. 

She tried to wobble off towards her bed, her legs shaky under her. I cut her off before she could reach the door. “You’re coming with us.” 

“But it’s your-” 

“No buts.” But … What was she going to say? Before ‘it’s your-’ 

“It’s our what?” Rowan asked for me. 

She frowned. “Your night. For the two of you.” 

I frowned, looking at Rowan. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.” When she’s more likely to remember it. He added to me. 

“Nothing to talk about.” She mumbled, but let him pick her up, carrying her back to our room. 

-

I groaned as the morning light hit me, streaming through the windows. My head started absolutely pounding. “Gods.” I groaned, pressing my palms into my eyes - like I might shove the headache away. A rough hand tugged one of mine away, pressing a glass vial into it. I peeked the free eye open, squinting to see Rowan. 

“I’m surprised.” I murmured. A pain tonic. “Thank you.” 

“We need to talk.” He grunted. “And I don’t want to deal with your whining.” Several months ago, I might’ve been hurt by the comment, but I was used to it by now, and ignored the second part, swigging the slightly vile liquid down. Fighting back the urge to make a face. 

“One day I’ll figure out how to make those taste better.” I glared at the offending piece of glass. Rowan snatched it out of my hands. 

“Lets go.” He jerked his head. 

“Alright alright.” That’s when I felt the heat on my face. I looked across in the mirror. A large purple bruise bloomed across my feet. “What did I do?” My eyes were wide. 

“You don’t remember?” He snorted, and left the room. 

“Bastard.” I muttered under my breath, low enough he wouldn’t hear, and grabbed a robe before following him. “What did I do last night?” I repeated, walking into the sitting room and digging through my mind for what the hell might’ve happened. 

He didn’t answer, pouring tea instead. “Where’s Aelin?” I tried. 

“Training.” He said curtly. 

“Rowan.” I said quietly. “What happened?” My memories cut off right before leaving the Tavern. 

He shoved the cup in my hands, watching and waiting for me to take a sip. I did, and waited for him to respond. 

“What do you remember?” He questioned, his voice was cold - usually meaning I’m about to be extensively lectured or punished for something. 

“Up until leaving, with Fenrys.” He can almost always tell when I’m lying. 

“You hurt yourself. Walking into a pillar.” 

I sucked my lips in, fighting the urge to laugh. “Of course I did.” I choked out. 

His eyes narrowed. “It’s not funny. What if Fenrys wasn’t with you?” 

“I have other friends.” I countered, crossing my arms. 

“Who we’ve never met.” His words came out flat. Emotionless. 

“Would you like to meet them?” I said, feeling a bit on edge. “Do you not trust me to be a good judge of character?” That wasn’t exactly fair … but I didn’t and don’t need them to approve of my friends. 

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” He growled. “Are you embarrassed by us? Do you not want them to know you’re with us?” 

Cruel. He was playing dirty. “Of course not. They know” I kept my voice calm. 

“Then why?” 

“You never asked.” I countered. It’s true. 

“You never asked to meet our friends, and we introduced you.” 

My breaths got heavier. This wasn’t fair, that’s not the same thing. “When you introduced me, I was just a member of a foreign court, a delegate.” 

He stalked up to me, standing so close that if I took a deep breath, my breasts would brush against him. “Was? Aren’t you still just a member of that court?” His voice was taunting, and cruel. Absolutely cruel. He meant for his words to hurt, and I could feel the slight satisfaction running through him when it did, but it was quickly pushed out by regret. 

“Maybe I am, and maybe it’s time I go home for a bit.” Silver might’ve lined my eyes, but I hit right back. I turned sharply on my heel, walking silently towards my rooms, out the main door. I didn’t look back as I closed it softly, a slight click. 

He didn’t follow, and maybe that’s what hurt the most. 

I collapsed on my bed, my knees pressing into my elbows, my head held in my hands, trying to figure out what about last night set him off. Made him so angry he’d say those things. Not that I acted much better. 

I wanted him to follow me. To tell me not to go - or to yell at me. Something. I paced for the better part of an hour, before deciding to go back. Porting off back home wouldn’t do anything, it would just make things worse. 

I took the direct passage this time, hearing another door creak open at the same time as mine. Rowan looked directly at me. “Aren’t you supposed to be gone?” The same cruel tone as earlier. Maybe I imagined that regret. I couldn’t say anything, or my voice might’ve broken. I took a step back, closing the door. 

I heard Aelin’s voice, “gone where?” But I’d already turned, heading back. “Rowan. What did you do?” 

Is this what the rest of my life will be like? Cruel barbs, hurtful words from both sides. A traitorous thought ran through my mind, why couldn’t it just be Aelin? But I dismissed that immediately. I couldn’t imagine not having both of them, not having two mates. It would be wrong, it wouldn’t feel complete. But for them - they could imagine it, they’ve lived it, and likely were perfectly fine before I came along. The two of them fit. Balanced each other perfectly. 

Am I some kind of wrench thrown in? A piece being forced into a puzzle, one that doesn’t quite fit? I’ve heard of mating bonds being rejected before. Ours is already sealed but … Even thinking about it brings a sharp pain in my chest. Gods they’re already a part of me, dug in so deep it would take something horrible and cataclysmic to drive me away from them. 

I hadn’t told them I loved them. They hadn’t told me. A final barrier that hasn’t been crossed. 

-

I sought out Fenrys around lunch, convincing him to come eat with me in my rooms. He seemed wary, considering this is definitely out-of-character for me.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, shoving a tart in his mouth. 

“What were Rowan and Aelin like before me?” 

He choked slightly, coughing into his hand, but finishing the food. I watched him intently. I needed to know. Had to know. 

“Fine. They were fine, at least it seemed that way.” He stared back at me. “What are you thinking?” 

“I’m an outsider.” I started. He gave me a look that said, no shit. “I don’t … I don’t know if I belong here.” 

“I was an outsider.” Fenrys leaned back. “You know I’m from Doranelle. It was difficult at first, but I found my place.” He spit out the country’s name, like it was poison. 

“You rejected Doranelle.” 

“I did.” He nodded, his tone cautious, like he knew where I was headed. 

“I don’t reject my home.” 

“You can belong to more than one place.” He argued. 

“But me being here is causing an issue.” 

“Rowan and Aelin fought. Still fight sometimes. Does that mean they don’t belong together?” Fenrys is more perceptive than people give him credit for.

“They’re different.” 

“How?” He sounded a bit exasperated. 

“Because they share bonds together I never will.” That truth finally came out. “And if there was a situation they had to …” My voice broke. 

He shoved a plate of sweets at me. “For both of our sakes,” he said carefully, “I’m going to pretend those words never came out of your mouth. Do you understand?” 

I nodded. A warning - if those questions were brought up … the results that come out might cause irreparable damage. Sometimes those things are better left swallowed. At the same time, I want to know my place with them. We ate in silence for a few minutes before the door breezed open. Aelin, I’d know the jasmine and lemon verbena anywhere. 

“Really?” She sighed, “Choosing that dog over me?” 

“I wasn’t aware there was a choice.” She raised an eyebrow, but sat next to me, grabbing some sweets. 

“You always have the best sweets.” She popped a truffle in her mouth, moaning. 

“And you always raid my collection.” 

“They’re bought on Crown gold.” She winked. Fenrys winced across from me, the action thankfully going unnoticed by Aelin, who had her eyes closed. 

I didn’t reply, but drank some water instead, the chocolates suddenly seemed unappetizing. “I do keep them just for you.” I covered smoothly. She placed a grateful kiss on my cheek, before turning, throwing her legs over my lap and lounging on the couch. I absentmindedly rubbed circles into her calves. 

“I heard you beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest. Aedion is ashamed. I’m quite proud.” She grinned. 

“Are you complimenting someone else's drinking prowess?” Fenrys looked amused, leaning back and crossing an ankle over his knee. 

“I’m giving credit where credit is due.” 

“Very kind of you.” I kept a smile. A forced one, and kept rubbing circles into her legs. Where credit is due. Drinker, bed warmer, what else? Aelin seemed to notice the shift, because she kicked Fenrys out, he left with a tight glance between the two of us, but no complaints. 

“What’s wrong with you?” She nudged my thigh with her toe. 

I flinched slightly. “A bit homesick.” Close enough. 

“Rowan told me about that.” I could see the bored expression on her face from the corner of my eyes. She’s keeping a tight lid on her emotions. 

“I sometimes say things I regret.” Regretting something doesn’t mean it wasn’t true. 

“We all do.” I could hear the same echo, doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.

Ask the damn question Y/N. I chided myself, I can’t put words into her mouth. “Did he mean it?” The words came out quickly. 

“Isn’t that a question you should ask him?” 

She has a point, so I countered with something I should ask her. “How do you feel about it? Both things.” Please don’t make me repeat them. I pleaded to her silently. She took some pity on me. 

“I wouldn’t mind meeting your friends, but I understand we can be … intimidating. But I don’t know if you’re keeping them from us because of that, or if you’re scared we’ll drive one of them off.” I waited for her to continue. There wasn’t technically a question there. “Do you want to be a member of this court? Would that mean you’re choosing?” 

Choosing. Right. Absolute loyalty - something I can’t promise. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” 

“You’re our mate.” She said softly. “And you have your place here.” 

“Are you telling me to know my place?” Maybe that wasn’t fair. 

“I didn’t say that.” She said sharply. But you didn’t not say it. Gods I wanted to hear all of the things that weren’t said, but I wanted them to soothe me. I don’t want the truth right now. I want sweet things meant to make me feel better. I’d even take little lies over these tiny cracks I’m feeling. The faltering, the hesitation. “Are you having trouble adjusting?” 

“Aelin it’s been nearly two years.” 

“And we’re immortal.” 

“I’ve found a life here.” We’re both skilled at non-answers. I still hadn’t looked at her, couldn’t meet her gaze. Around her, and him, my eyes tend to show everything. A wall I can’t seem to put up. 

“Look at me.” Kind, but unyielding. I do. 

-

Tears are threatening to flood down her face, I can see it. I can’t help but think maybe she’s being a bit oversensitive. I’ve seen her in her own court .. well, the one she doesn’t really claim. Tough love? Or soft? 

“Was it better without me?” 

Oh Gods I did not expect that. I moved fast, tugging her to straddle my lap. “Don’t ever say that.” My voice was harsh, my hand gripping her chin, making sure she looked directly at me. “Did we make you feel that way?” 

She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, I just noticed it was bloodied and bruised - like she’d been biting on it all day. “I don’t know how much of it is just in my head.” So we did make her feel like that, at least partially. 

“We can’t reassure you or fix ridiculous notions if you don’t tell us.” 

She laughed darkly, pushing my hand away from her face, and turning her head. “That’s part of the problem. They’re ridiculous to you.” I wrenched her head back to face me. 

“Don’t look away from me.” I snarled, holding her even when she flinched. “They are ridiculous, even if you believe them. We weren’t better off without you. You’re a wonderful part of us, part of us we didn’t know was there. Just like we’re a part of you. You belong with us.” I emphasized. “Come to us when you feel this way. Let us fix it.” 

“There isn’t anything to fix.” Her eyes kept steady on mine, although I could see her temptation to look away. 

“Then tell me exactly what’s been running through your head.” She swallowed harshly. “You either know it’s wrong, or you’re scared to bring it up.” Her eyes gave it away. Both. 

“Can we talk about this later?” She pleaded, breaking eye contact, her bottom lip quivering.

“Look at me.” I gritted my teeth, and she did. The vulnerability in her eyes made me sigh. “Promise you’ll actually talk about it.” 

I watched her hesitate, but she did promise. 

-

Falling asleep was uncomfortable. There was a tension drifting between the three of us, but I didn’t feel like talking about it yet, and they respected that. Barely, I could see both of them aching to have the conversation - to get it out of the way, but I needed time to gather my thoughts. A night to sleep on it. 

Eventually we did drift off to sleep. 

“Leave.” Rowan said harshly, his face set in a nasty look. One I’d only seen him give to people who were rude to Aelin or I. What did I do? 

“Leave.” Aelin repeated his words with that same look. It was unnatural, it wasn’t them. 

“But-” 

“Now.” He growled, taking a menacing step towards me. 

Another voice came from behind me. “I lied, they were better without you.” I whirled around. Fenrys. The look, they all had the same one.

“I can be better.” I stuttered through the words. 

“You don’t get it.” Aelin laughed harshly. “We don’t want you.” 

Rowan shoved me through the gates, just a bag in my hands. “Step foot in Terrasen again, and you’re dead.” 

They slammed shut in front of me. 

“No, no, no, no.” I whispered, tears running down my face, my entire body shaking.

“Y/N.” A disembodied voice said, repeatedly. 

“It’s a dream.” My eyes flew open, I felt magic flooding around me. A hand rubbed my back. “Breathe, breathe darling.” Aelin’s voice, but I couldn’t see her. A dream, it was a nightmare. 

I heard Rowan, his voice strained. “Bring your magic back in. Call it back to you.” 

I did, and it came back joyfully, swirling against the shield of wind holding it in, with teasing pokes, before flying back into me, and the room was encased in moonlight. 

“Gods, I’m sorry.” I sighed. “Please, don’t be. I’ve burned several bed sheets before.” Her voice was light, a smile on her face. “Besides, your magic isn’t scary, it’s quite beautiful actually.” I could feel her magic bubbling, wanting out to play, mine reacted in kind. 

“Tomorrow.” Rowan said, and we turned in sync to glare at him. The serious look on his face remained, and Aelin huffed before tugging me into her arms - pointedly leaving him out. 

[origamiplushie]

Dustin's really going through it

Read on AO3. Inspired by this tumblr post.

It is an ordinary Friday like any other. The party is once again gathered in the Wheeler’s basement. They’re just having a normal sleepover not playing DND so even Max has elected to join them. They have a pile of snacks and soft drinks, they’ve picked out some movies to watch later and right now they’ve given in to stereotype and are playing truth or dare.

So far Max has admitted to shoplifting (multiple times) (with very little shame), Will has demonstrated that he can do a handstand but only hold it for about 20 seconds, Lucas has been forced to chug a shaken bottle of coke and spent a tense fifteen minutes doing his best not to throw up and Dustin has confessed that he once destroyed a sweater his mom bought him and blamed it on Mews just so she couldn’t force him to ever wear him to wear it again. 

Dustin spins the bottle and watches it slow down to land on Mike. He dramatically pretends to contemplate his choices for a moment before turning towards Mike and asking with a sly grin: “What is the most embarrassing crush you’ve ever had?”

Mike sputters angrily. 

“None of your business!”

Dustin immediately shoots back with: “Actually we’re playing truth or dare so right now it is very much our business.”

“Shut up, I’m not telling you guys!”

“Come on dude, you forced me to show you pictures of the sweater! Fair’s fair!”

Will tries to goad Mike into telling them.

“Come on, Mike, it can’t be that bad?”

Max snorts and says: “Or at least not worse than Dustin in that puke coloured sweater.”

“Just rip off the bandaid and tell us already!”

“It’s Steve! It’s Steve, alright?” Mike finally exclaims. Immediately after that he slamms his face into his hands.

A moment of shocked silence follows.

And then Max starts laughing.

Seeing as Mike is clearly mortified, El leans over to pat him on his back.

“Steve is very handsome. And he is nice. I do not think he is an embarrassing boy to crush on,” she said.

Lucas decides to also try and reassure his friend.

“I mean, if I wasn’t dating Max and if I liked guys, I would probably also have a crush on Steve. He’s just like the whole package - he's athletic and charismatic and super supportive and a good listener, you know?”

Now Max, still laughing under her breath, adds: “Not just charismatic and nice, he’s hot! Have you seen him shirtless at the pool?”

Will, who so far had been struck speechless, turns entirely red in the face as he shyly nods and says: “I personally like watching when he plays basketball with Lucas.”

Mike looks like he feels a bit better and even dares to peek at the rest of the room through his fingers.

“For real?” 

Lucas nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah dude, Steve’s a nice guy. Half the school probably has a crush on him.” 

Mike isn’t hiding his face anymore but Dustin seems disturbed by the entire conversation.

“Nononono, fucking ew!Steve isn’t… hot. He’s a fucking doofus and a dork!”

They’re all laughing at Dustin’s distressed face now.

“You’re just mad your friends like your “older brother”,” Max chimes up.

Mike is confident enough by now to speak.

“Now you know how I felt when you were crushing on Nancy!”

After that all of Dustin’s protests are ignored as the group trades stories of Steve as well as their other crushes. Meanwhile Dustin tries to smother himself with a pillow and does his best to tune the whole conversation out.

—

Dustin doesn’t even give Eddie the chance to get out of the car and wave before he’s already throwing his bag in the back, sitting in and slamming the door closed.

“Soo… going out on a limb here, I’m guessing the sleepover didn’t go well?” Eddie says backing out of the Wheeler’s driveway.

“No! It didn’t! They all spent the whole evening basically gossiping and talking about some… dumb shit! We never even got to watching “Highlander”! It's new enough that it's still under the two day rental policy! And Steve said he’s not going to waive any more of my late fees! So I guess I’m going to have to drop this off today too. And when Steve asks ‘Oh Dustin, how was the movie? Were the swordfights as awesome as they looked on the box?’ I’m going to have to say ‘Well Steve, I never actually got to find out!’”

Dustin grosses his arms with a huff and glares out the window.

“That sucks dude. Did you tell them you wanted to watch the movie?”

“Yes! But apparently Mrs. Flemings is right when she complains that teens these days have no appreciation for art and culture!”

Eddie glances at Dustin sitting sullenly in the passenger seat and offers with a wink: “How about this? I’ll drive us to Family Video, rent the movie under my account after you’ve returned it and then we can hang out at my pace and watch it together. Then tomorrow you can tell the others how cool it was and what they were all missing out on by ignoring you.”

Dustin immediately brightens up.

“Really? Thanks, Eddie, you’re the best!”

“And hey, if we’re hanging out all day anyway, you might as well pick out another movie to watch as well. I don’t know about you but I don’t have any other plans for today.”

—

Dustin rushes to browse the shelves and pick a second movie while Eddie waits at the counter with the “Highlander” tape. 

He personally prefers sci-fi above all but he knows Eddie likes horror movies, so it might be nice to go with something Eddie liked as a gesture of appreciation. He considers his options for a while. Finally, “Star Trek” is put back on the shelf and Dustin turns towards the counter with the “Shining”. 

And then he stops.

Steve is leaning on his forearms against the counter.

Eddie is leaning forward as well, a strand of hair pulled in front of his face.

The two of them and Christopher Lambert staring up at them from the VHS case form a little triangle. They seem utterly oblivious to the rest of the world.

Eddie is definitely blushing.

Dustin takes a deep breath.

Steve and Eddie are reminded real quick that they are not alone in the universe when he starts yelling.

[gaiasucks]

my first attempt at incel xiao 😿 sorry if it sucks im not used to writing fanfic

// fem reader / incel xiao , roommates , slut shaming + general insults, drunk sex, nsfw //

upon arriving to your new college dorm, you expected a normal, nice roommate. one who would clean up after themselves, one who would take care of themselves, or at the least wasnt a gross person. but, that wish wasn’t granted. your new roommate was xiao, who is the absolute opposite of what you wished for.

xiao never brushes his hair, and he just let it get all tangled to the point where it looked like a ball of fluff on the top of his head. he never took showers, and always had this disgusting smell surrounding him. his teeth always went unbrushed, and he rarely changed his clothes, let alone washed them. and he didn’t act any better. he practically never left his room, and would just stay in, playing valorant and watching porn. he would spend all his time on discord talking to his group of weirdo friends, constantly passing around hentai and insulting random women on instagram. all he ever drinks is alcohol and energy drinks, and any time he talks to you, his breath reeks of vodka and monster. he constantly jacks off to hentai games, and his room has this putrid smell of cum that makes you gag anytime you walk his room.

but, you weren’t his dream roommate either. but unlike you, he hated you. you didn’t particularly enjoy his presence, but you never hated him. but, he hated you. he hated everything about you. he hated the way you smelt so sickly sweet due to the scented lotions and perfumes you use. he hate the fact you care so much about your appearance, and how you cared so much about how you looked. he hated how long you spent on your makeup and hair. he hated how you dress so slutty in his eyes. the way your shirts are so tight on you, and your pants are so snug against your body. he hated the fact that anytime you wear skirts they’re so short and show your panties anytime you bend over to pick something up. he hated the fact that anytime you wore button ups, they were so tight and made your boobs so noticeable. he felt like you were such a whore, trying to attract the attention of guys. he constantly talked about you to his friends, calling you a dirty hoe who sleeps with a bunch of guys.

though, despite the fact he hates you, he’s obsessed with you. your the only thing that gets him hard, since porn doesn’t work anymore. he constantly gets off to the idea of sexually overstimulating you to the point your crying due to the pleasure overload. he fantasizes about pulling down your panties and pounding you for hours at a time. whenever he sees you, he wishes you were on your knees right now, sucking his cock with your cute, slutty little mouth. the idea of fucking you till your numb turns him on so much, he can’t control the urge to just stroke his dick to that thought. his one and old wish is to penetrate you to the point where you just melt and become a moaning little mess. all he wants to do is corrupt your mind and body, ruining you to no return.

and his wish was granted. after all this time of imagining, he finally took things in his own hands. though it wasn’t as nice as expected. xiao was blackout drunk, sprawled and passed out on the couch, and you had just entered the dorm. you tried to wake up him up gently, but he wouldn’t budge. so, you start getting more aggressive, shaking him to the point he was flopping around like a fish. eventually, he woke up. he tried to say something, but his speech was so slurred you couldn’t make it out. you pull him up and off the couch and start walking him too his room, scolding him. we reach his godawful bedroom, and you lead him to his bed and tell him to go to bed. he vaguely says “i don’t wanna go to bed”, but he slurred it so much he couldn’t even form normal sounding words. you try to him to go to bed, but he holds you down, trying to tell you something. “if you really care, you can help put me to sleep.” he murmurs, which at the time didn’t make much sense, but when he pinned you to his bed and started taking off the dress you were wearing, the answer was clear.

in what seemed like a second, you were laying on his bed, practically naked. he stared at your body with a look of lust and disgust in his eyes. your gaze shifts from his face to his pants, which is hands are flimsily unbuttoning. “this isn’t like you xiao..” you whimper as you watch him undress himself. despite the fact your so disgusted by this; you continue to watch him take off his clothing, almost as if you were under a spell. “you seem to enjoy this, you slut.” xiao suddenly says, taking you back to reality. “i’m not a slut! i’m a completely norm-“ you try to say, but he stuffs his cock in your mouth, shutting you up. at first, you were shocked. you didn’t know what to do. you didn’t know if you were supposed to take it out and run away, or to just roll with it. after a few seconds of just sitting in a state of shock, you start to feel him shoving it deeper and deeper. it felt so nice and warm, you couldn’t just walk away. the more you sucked his cock, the more it went deeper and deeper inside your throat. you were practically choking on his cock, but it felt so good, you didn’t mind it. hearing his deep moans and grunts made your clit throb more and more, ready to get fucked.

“your so good at this, fuck..” he muttered under his breath while you sucked him off. his whimpers filled your ears, turning you on. as you went on, his moans slowly started to push you over the edge. eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. you take his cock out of your mouth and force it inside you, clenching it as it went deeper inside. “your such a slut, you know that, right?” but you didn’t care, you didn’t care how slutty you were, all you wanted was him inside of you. you were a moaning mess at this point, just begging him to fuck you harder and harder. he complied, and started thrusting you as hard as he could.

you were such a mess, but you didn’t care. you didn’t care if you made ugly sex faces. you didn’t care if you made gross sounding moans. you just didn’t care. you were in a pure euphoric state of mind, experiencing the best pleasure you ever felt. and the constant flow of insults, constantly being called a dirty whore, slut, hoe, and more just made the experience even more enjoyable.

that it 😿 srry if it sucked uhh recc me i more incel!xiao shit to do

[naminethewriter]

On the Road, Just the Two of Us

Chapter Five: Living the Ranch Life, Just the Two of Us (again, not really, but shush)

Masterpost | First | Previous | Next | Ao3

Summary: This was written for @dukeceit-week-2024, @dukeceitweek

Janus and Remus are living in a campervan at the moment. Are they going somewhere? Who knows. The only thing that’s important is that they’re together.

Content Warnings: probably not accurate to actually living on a ranch, I'm sorry..., Original Background Characters

🌻🌻🌻🌻

“Janny! Janny! Look!” Remus yelled as he ran over to Janus who just left the chicken coop with a basket full of eggs.

“What is it, dear?”

“I look like a genuine cowboy! John lent me his vest!”

“That’s great, honey! Your boots really make the outfit.”

“They do, don’t they!” He lifted his legs to inspect the brown, knee-high boots with fringe at the side that were very cliché but one of Remus’ favorite possessions. “Anyway, John’s gonna teach me to lasso, you wanna come?”

“I promised Jane I’d help in the kitchen. But you have fun.”

“Thanks, I will!” With that Remus ran off in the direction of the cow stables. Janus chuckled as he looked after him before making his way to the main house. He went to the kitchen and placed the basket on the counter.

“Thank you, Janus. You’re a big help,” Jane smiled, as she wiped her hands on her apron and moved over to inspect his haul.

“It’s not why we’re here,” Janus quipped. “We came for a five-star hotel experience and not because Remus always wanted to see what living on a ranch was like.”

Out of the window, the two of them could see Jane’s husband John showing Remus how to tie a big length of rope into a proper noose for lassoing. Jane chuckled at the sight.

“He seems like an excitable fellow. It’s too bad you two are only staying a week. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind having you for longer.”

“You’re the first person to ever say that, I think,” Janus joked, though there was some truth to that. Usually, both he and Remus had a hard time fitting in with their surroundings. The last four days they spent on the ranch, helping out where they can and learning a lot of new skills had been physically intense but mentally relaxing in a way Janus wasn’t used to from his usual routine.

“Oh, I doubt that!” Jane huffed. “You are both so nice, how could anyone not want you around?”

“Let’s just say, if we’d been born into this kind of environment, a lot of things might have been different.”

“Well, that’s obvious. Everyone would be different if you changed just one aspect of their past. I always thought that dwelling on the what-ifs was a waste of time. Live your life how you see fit and don’t look back too much. You’ll miss what’s in front of you! Now take these potatoes here. They need peeling and cutting.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Janus quietly started on his work while Jane bustled around him, humming lightly to the radio that was playing on low volume in the corner. In between the peeling and cutting, he looked outside. Remus seemed to have the time of his life, waving the length of rope over his head and running around without abandon.

“I don’t think I’ve seen him that happy in a long time,” Janus commented, more to himself than to Jane, though she did stop her own vegetable cutting.

“That so? He seemed to me like that from the start.”

“Yeah, this trip’s been good for him.”

“I mean it, Janus, if you wanna stay longer, you can! We have no other bookings for a week or two.”

Janus looked over at her and she was smiling at him with a warm expression he’s never seen on his own mother’s face.

“I appreciate the offer, Jane, but sadly we do have somewhere to be.”

“Is that so? A shame. Where you off to, if I may ask?”

“A wedding. Remus’ brother will be quite mad with us if we miss it.”

“Oh, I’d imagine! I’d be cross with you as well!” Jane laughed. “Well, then let’s make the most of our time together and cook to our hearts content, huh?” She gently nudged Janus’ side with her elbow and he smiled. Looking out the window, he saw Remus sitting on the ground, somehow tangled up in his own rope with John trying to free him. Both seemed to be laughing though, so Janus wasn’t worried.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

Another month. There was no need to worry for another month. They just had to keep an eye on their destination. That’s all.

[being-of-rain]

I wasn’t really a big fan of The Giggle by the time I finished watching it, and I liked it less the more that I thought about it. Which is a real shame, because I think it was full of a lot of great ideas that were squandered with poor execution. I didn’t really want to just post pages of negativity, so I’ll quickly skim through a list of things I think could’ve been done better, and maybe I’ll expand on some of them later or if I’m asked about them. Still, this is your warning for negativity.

The whole 'screens are evil and making everyone think they're right' felt so shallow and cheap, especially because it was set up as the main obstacle and then largely ignored. A lot of the characters at UNIT really didn't do much (I totally forgot about The Vlinx after my first watchthrough) but I think that didn't bother me much while watching because I was used to Chibnall regularly ignoring characters like that. It was nice to see Mel again, but she didn’t really serve much purpose.

RTD’s take on the Toymaker is quite similar to his take on the Master, which was sometimes fun and sometimes annoying (specifically the German accent, which lost its appeal pretty quickly for me). But he felt pretty hollow and full of wasted potential beyond that, feeling like he was there just to give the episode a villain. Although speaking of the Master, his brief inclusion was hilarious and an easy way to write him back into the show later, nicely done.

The last third of the episode had some many intriguing and potentially awesome ideas behind it. The new Doctor turning up partway through a story? Cool! The Doctor defeating his final villain alongside the next star of the show? Fun! The Doctor getting self-care and words of wisdom from his next self? So heartwarming! One Doctor retiring to be happy while his next incarnation travels off to continue the adventures? A fun use of the show's format!

But for me these ideas just didn’t work or didn’t fulfill their potential, and it’s mostly because there’s no narrative justification for them. No cause and effect. There’s no given reason for the Doctor to bigenerate, it just happens. There’s no particular reason that it was the Doctors rather than the Toymaker who won the game of catch to save the world, it just happens. Without any narrative reason the third act feels so unsatisfying, like spectacle for the sake of spectacle, and (I don’t say this lightly) incredibly lazily written.

That lack of story reason also undermines the ending, clearly the thing RTD was most interested in, by making it feel unearned. Like a first draft script that worked backwards to make it happen. The retirement ending itself I have mixed feelings about, which I’m not sure I can fully articulate. One thing I love to see is that RTD can actually do a genuinely happy ending rather than making every ending a tragedy. But said happy ending feels a little too ‘married-with-kids-and-a-white-picket-fence’ to me – though obviously I can’t stress enough how relieved I am that romance didn’t factor into it. It just felt like it wasn’t set up well enough. I’d probably like it a lot more if they made clear if Tennant’s Doctor was going to turn into Gatwa’s Doctor or if they’re just separate people now. It was sweet of RTD to try and bring a conclusion to the ‘Doctor is traumatised’ thing that he introduced to the show 18 years ago, but he did it poorly. At least it offers interesting new possibilities for the show going forward!

With all that said, in the end The Giggle felt to me like RTD retreading some of his biggest flaws as a writer, and throwing in a few borrowed from other showrunners for good measure. It was a disappointment both because of the good ideas just below the surface, and because it came after a very fun first episode and an incredible follow-up.

But like I said, I’m excited to see what the show does next! I saw talk that there’ll be lots of mythical and unnatural creatures turn up due to the Doctor’s salt thing, which is super cool. And obviously I’m excited for more Gatwa! I haven’t really felt a lot of reason to be excited about Ruby yet, but as always I’m ready to fall in love with the new companion quickly!