#sorry for the random early morning musing

[neon-wasteland]

I watch a lot of housewives trash tv. Doesn’t mean I’m like in their lives or know what really truly goes on, but it’s so wild to read this after watching some of that mess.

It just feels surreal. Because it is. They have problems and such sure, they’re human, but the way the show paints it … the cost of sunglasses in their world, the parties they go to, the ones they throw… I feel like it’s unreachable because that’s how they wanna frame it.

I just saw an episode where one lady was inviting another couple to her house. She ordered a new set of plates from Hermés. $15k for the set. Her husband asked and she just giggled and he left and things were fine. The guests came and had to stop before for something better than a $30 wine.

It’s just insane. I think that’s why I watch it. It’s just another life I’ll never obtain, and frankly don’t want to. Hell, I’m just happy when I can afford my car payment. If I got an extra $200-500 I’d be set. Maybe one day.

Suddenly I am thinking about that article written by Brennan Lee Mulligan about being witness to extremely hyper-wealthy people believing they were going to live forever.

Not if the rest of us have anything to say about it, said the guy with words on his bullets to the heart of a health insurance CEO.

[impala-dreamer]

Tell me a story about reader trying to hide something from Spencer Reid (fluffish)

A Not-So-Secret Secret

Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Fluff and Secrets and Pregnancy Revelations

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

It was like trying to play tag with God. You took a step, and he followed. You turned a corner, and he was there waiting. It was fucking impossible. He seemed to be everywhere at the same time; his light brown eyes forever following you around, detailing and documenting every odd move and every evasive answer. It almost made you feel sorry for the serial killers he interviewed and every suspect he’d been in contact with.  

Almost. 

While you were becoming increasingly infuriated with his passive observational skills, you were still determined to keep it all a secret. Soon, you would make your little announcement, apologize for being so moody the last few weeks, and give an excuse for all the seemingly random running out of rooms you’d been doing in the early mornings. Soon, you’d sit him down and spill the beans; pray that he’d be OK with it all. Soon. But trekking through the damp woods of Vermont while looking for an UnSub was neither the time nor the place. 

Even though he was a few yards ahead, you could somehow still feel him watching you. It was as if he had eyes behind his head, or, at the very least, a bit of ESP that transcended the physical limitations of the human body and let him watch you no matter where he was. The internal workings of his mind were surely a sight to see. Maybe someday, you mused, you’d put him in an MRI machine and map his genius in real-time. 

Fallen branches snapped under your boots and the fog chilled your bones. The FBI windbreaker you’d grabbed instead of your usual wool coat was not enough to stave off the dampness. Pausing for a moment, you cupped your hands and breathed into them, hoping to take the frozen sting off of your fingertips.

Spencer heard your footsteps stop and spun around instantly. 

“Are you OK?” His voice was low but his concern carried easily through the trees.

A deep breath squared your shoulders and you prepared to resume your hike. “Absolutely,” you replied with a wink and a smile. 

He knew you were lying. He always knew. What he didn’t know, you hoped, was why. 

To your left, the heavy flapping of wings caught your ear, and you turned to see a large black bird taking flight. You followed it upwards, watching its impressive wingspan darken the sky as it ascended. As it faded into the gray sky, a line of smoke appeared about half a mile away. A chimney. The scent of burning logs floated by on a cold breeze and the smell turned your stomach. Quickly, you dropped your face into your hand, desperate to hide your gag. 

Spencer was a foot away when you straightened back up. His eyes were narrowed, his lips drawn into a tight pink line. He let his hand hover over your shoulder, unsure if you’d allow it to land. 

“Y/N-” 

Clearing your throat, you brushed him off with a reassuring but fake smile. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” 

Damnit. “Spencer, if I say I’m fine, I’m fine.” You crossed your arms and tried to stand your ground but another wave of nausea struck you. The wretch clicked in the back of your throat and you swallowed it down, hard. “Let’s go,” you insisted. “I’m freezing.” 

He sighed. “I told you to wear a sweater.” His hand fell lovingly on your shoulder. “You know, the weather in this area this time of year can-”

You cut him off harshly. “I do not need a lesson on the weather patterns of New England, Spencer!” 

He flinched at your tone and slowly curled his fingers as he lifted his hand away. He frowned and nodded thoughtfully. “Sorry.” 

Your heart sank and you cursed every wayward hormone and chemical in your body. “No.” You shook your head and sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just…�� Moody and terrified. Starving yet nauseated; freezing yet sweating… “I’m cold and I wanna get back to the hotel. This is getting us nowhere.” Did I mention I’m gonna throw up if I have to keep smelling that fire? “Let’s just hurry up and do what we came to do so I can go home. OK?” Also, my feet hurt and I’m a little dizzy.

He studied your face for a long moment and then nodded. “Let’s just go. We’re only a mile from the car and I doubt we’ll get much further before you pass out.” 

His words flowed in one ear and out the other before spinning around and slapping you in the face. You jolted. 

“Uh, what?” 

“You’re shaking and you’ve gone a little pale.” His hand returned to your shoulder. The weight was reassuring but his words had you on edge. 

Do you know? You stared up at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I said I’m fine.”

His other hand pressed gently against your cheek and you melted into the comforting warmth. “You should probably eat something too. I have saltines and water in the car. It’ll settle your stomach.” 

Son of a bitch. “Not hungry,” you fibbed, “but thanks.” 

A gurgle from your stomach told otherwise and you gave up. Tiny tears welled in your eyes and you sank into yourself a bit. Busted. Found out. Betrayed by your own gut. 

Spencer smiled sweetly. “You know I know, right?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Well, I do now.” 

He pulled you close and kissed the top of your head. Wrapping your arms around him, you settled your head over his heart. 

“When were you going to tell me?” he asked. 

“I don’t know, when my water broke?”

He laughed. It vibrated through him. “Why were you afraid to tell me?” 

With a sigh, you pushed away to look up at him. He was handsome and messy and you wanted to punch him in his stupid perfect face for being so smart. “I wasn’t afraid, I just… wanted to… I don’t know, I mean, we never talked about kids or anything but-” 

He stopped your ramble with a kiss and held your face gently in his hands. “It’s a good surprise,” he whispered. “We’ll figure it out, OK?” 

His smile was honest and you relaxed. “OK.” 

“Good.” 

“But seriously, I need to eat something or I’m going to puke all over you.” 

The walk back to the car was somehow easier. Perhaps it was the relief of not having to hide anymore, or maybe the prospect of crackers ahead. Either way, it felt as if you were floating over the dead leaves. 

“I did hide it pretty well though, didn’t I?” 

He laughed under his breath at your query. “Yeah. Pretty good.” 

Who’s lying now?

“When did you figure it out?” 

Spencer pushed his glasses up a bit and looked off towards the big black SUV waiting at the edge of the forest. 

“Few weeks ago,” he admitted. 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “You left the pregnancy test on the sink.” 

Son of a bitch…

[lovebugism]

for your fall prompts! what about “why are your hands so cold?” with the love of my life, steve harrington?

autumn, my love! ty for requesting! i hope you like it!! — steve makes fun of your cold hands but only as an excuse to hold them (mutual pining, friends to lovers, 2k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Family Video always smells like Robin’s morning coffee, crisp autumn air, and warm nostalgia this time of year. It’s quiet and homey and liminal — as orange as early autumn itself. 

The empty store is filled with the sound of your rushed scribbling as you jot down a load of cursive nothingness in your journal. Your hand smears the wet ink across the page. It stains the paper as much as the side of your wrist. 

Your other hand is curled into a fist to prop up your lolling head. Expelling your racing thoughts into the leather-back book is the only thing keeping you awake.

The stale air glows suddenly with a newfound life when a cozier, more familiar scent engulfs you — like pine, musk, and vanilla. You feel Steve’s visceral warmth surrounding you. Before you can blush about the unexpected proximity, he snatches your journal out from under you.

“Hey!” you shout before you mean to, perhaps the loudest he’s ever heard you.

“What’s this?” this beautiful boy muses, honey eyes sparkling. The dull store blooms with its radiance. You can’t believe he’s looking at you with it and with his rosy, lopsided grin.

“Give it back,” you demand, quieter now and smiling wider.

Steve meets your playfully arched brow with a sunny grin. He thumbs through your journal with golden hands from a leftover summer tan. His biceps are all but bursting from his vest and too-tight polo.

“Keith said you’re not allowed to write in your diary on the clock, you know?” he reminds with a feigned seriousness, scrunching his nose when his twinkling eyes flit back to yours.

Keith did actually say that. A few days ago now. He also said he’d dock your pay if he caught you doing it again, the absolute asshole.

“It’s not a diary!” you argue with a beam on your face.

You briefly wonder if you’re smiling a little too wide, and the fleeting thought makes the bright expression flicker. 

You cross your arms over your chest and pretend to be more serious. Something about Steve stirs a deep sensuality in you, though — like a wolf innately drawn to a full moon. The corners of your lips quirk with an emotion you couldn’t conceal if you tried.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he singsongs with raised brows. 

Strands of honey hair hang over his wrinkled forehead when he turns to the book in his hands. He swipes his fingers through them to push them back again, but they fall into place a second later.

You’re too enamored by the boy in front of you to stop him when he starts flipping through your notebook. You know he knows it isn’t a diary. You also know he wouldn’t be going through it if it were. He’s too nice for that. Too sweet on you, anyway.

He finds a random page and lingers there. His eyes flit over every inch of the ink you’ve scribbled inside — miscellaneous lists, doodles, and song lyrics. He figures it must be the music you’re humming all the time, tunes you can’t get out of your head.

Every time I see you, all the rays of the sun are streaming through the waves of your hair, the words read in clumsy cursive. And every star in the sky is taking aim at your eyes like a spotlight. The beating of my heart is a drum, and it’s lost, and it’s looking for a rhythm like you—

Steve’s heart flutters. He feels like a kid again. His stomach swirls with the thought that you might’ve been thinking about him in between the lyrics. It’s as unlikely as it is childish. He knows this, so he frowns.

“Oh,” he monotones playfully, brows pinching and lips jutting. “That’s boring.”

“Exactly. So give it back—” You reach for the book, but Steve’s too quick. He jerks it out of your reach and leaves your hand grabbing at air.

“Ooh, sorry, sunshine,” Steve lilts. “Looks like you’re not tall enough for this ride.”

Your cheeks speckle with heat. You wonder if he’s flirting or if he’s just being friendly, and you’re too in love to know the difference. Your terribly hidden smile is wide and impossibly giddy, anyway.

“Steve,” you bite, though it comes out much happier than you intended it to. “Give it back.”

He purses his lips to the side and furrows his brows. “Hmm… No.”

Your smile broadens, and your eyes widen at his blatant defiance. You giggle like a child as you walk the short distance towards him. “Give it back,” you laugh and stand on the tips of your toes in front of him. 

He chuckles boyishly in return and lifts it further out of your reach.

You jump slightly off the ground to grab it. You fail the first time and try harder the second. You just narrowly miss it. The tips of your fingers brush his wrist as your torso presses too intently against his ribcage. 

Your chest scrapes his vest and jostles his Hi, I’m Steve name tag. You stumble back in mortification. 

With a red-hot face and a gaping gaze, you try to stammer out an apology. Nothing comes out. Your mouth opens and shuts like a fish as you pull the hem of your sweater down from where it had ridden up.

Steve has his own look of bewilderment. His honey eyes are aglow with something short of amusement. You’re briefly worried he’s about to mock you until he starts to laugh. “Why are your hands so cold?” he wonders with squinted eyes.

Your stutter hasn’t quite left you. “I— I don’t know. My hands are always cold.” 

You curl your fists into the sleeves of your sweater on instinct. If only to hide how they shake for him.

“But that’s like… ice cold,” Steve insists, crooked smile widening. “Like, we live in Antarctica cold.”

Less embarrassed and more playful, you roll your eyes and turn away from him. “Okay…” you mumble under your breath as you sit back down in your chair. Steve can’t stand you being too far away, so he follows you.

“Like, you just got done shoveling snow with your bare hands cold. Like—”

“I get it, Steve. I’m a freak of nature,” you concede, spinning in your swivel chair to face him again. 

He’s much closer than you expect him to be. His long legs are all but inches from your knees as he stands before you. You flush but smirk up at him in attempts to keep cool about how fervently he makes you tremble.

“I’m just teasing,” he assures with a pretty laugh.

You already knew that, though. He’s too kind to be mean. He’s a dumbass sometimes, but he always means well.

“Here, look,” he starts, laying your journal back on the counter with a quiet thud. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

Your brows pinch. “What do you mean?”

You find out a second later when he turns back to you and takes your hands in his larger ones. 

His fingers are long and golden as they curl around your knuckles. His palms aren’t soft, but they aren’t rough either — like they’ve been used, but not too ardently. And he’s warm. He’s oh, so warm.

You tense at the sudden action but relax a second later, melting into him like you’ve always been destined to. 

“Oh…”

“Right?” Steve nods with raised brows and quirked lips. “I’m practically a space heater.”

Your heart’s fluttering too aggressively to stutter out an intelligible sentence, so you just nod back at him. “Yeah…”

It makes a little too much sense that the ray of sunlight that always calls you Sunshine feels so golden warm.

Steve gives your hands a squeeze. “See? You’re getting warmer already.”

He doesn’t know it’s because you’re blushing so intensely you feel like your entire body has been set on fire. You’re happy to let him keep on not knowing.

“Thanks, Stevie…” you murmur quietly, gaze trained on your entwined hands.

“Stevie?” he chuckles.

Your eyes dart up to his sparkling ones, and you freeze. You hadn’t meant to call him that. That nickname was usually reserved for your too-elaborate daydreams. “Oh. Shit. Sorry. It just— It just slipped. I’m sorry.”

“No. No, it’s okay,” Steve assures with the shake of his head, giving you another reassuring squeeze. “Seriously. I liked it.”

You exhale a nervous laugh through your nose, ducking your gaze away from his. “You always hate when Robin calls you that…”

“Well, yeah. ‘Cause she’s Robin.”

Your laugh is more genuine this time.

“And it sounds a lot prettier when you say it, anyway.”

He must notice how hard he’s making you blush with how warm your hands have gotten — from frozen solid to fiery hot. But he holds them, anyway. Even when they get all clammy. You want it to mean more than it probably does.

“Yeah?” you press, peering up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah,” he nods like it’s obvious, then gets as sheepish as you a moment later. He tries to act cool through his shyness, tilting his head and shrugging as he smirks. “How about you call me that tonight?”

Your eyes go wide at the unintended insinuation.

His gape matches your own when his own words dawn on him. “I meant at dinner!” he follows quickly. “At Enzo’s. Seven o’clock. You know, if— if you wanna go with me or whatever.”

You do. Most desperately so. In fact, you’re pretty sure you dreamt about it one time. Maybe you’ll tell him that if you’re brave enough — over pasta and breadsticks.

“I don’t have a car,” you confess with a forced laugh. “Or a pretty dress…”

“I can pick you up!” Steve assures immediately, then grows visibly shier. He shifts his weight on his feet but doesn’t try to let go of your hands. It feels too right to hold them. “And, you know, I’m sure you’ll look nice in whatever you decide to wear, sunshine.”

You purse your lips to the side as you nod, lest your beam blinds him and makes your cheeks burst.

“Okay… Enzo’s. Seven o’clock,” you repeat quietly.

“I pick you up,” he says, squeezing your hands.

You squeeze him back. “You pick me up.”

“And we spend an hour eating breadsticks and making fun of all the wine snobs.”

The imagery makes your stomach swirl, a dream so real you can taste it — red wine and garlic and cherry chapstick. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you affirm with a sheepish giggle.

He nods, having no idea he’s grinning like a lovesick idiot down at you. “Cool.”

“Cool,” you repeat.

You watch his tongue dart out to wet his bottom lip. For a fleeting moment, you think he might kiss you. You want him to kiss you. You might melt at his feet if he did, but you need it like you need air.

Ding! 

The door chimes at the front of the store. 

Autumn air rushes in, leaving you bitterly cold all over again. Or maybe that’s just because Steve’s stepping away from you. Both of you know that Keith will have a fit if a customer complains about PDA.

“Hi! Welcome in! Can I help you find anything?” Steve greets as kindly as always, smiling just the same. 

He only says it because he has to say it. He’s secretly hoping for a negative response, just so he can keep on talking to you.

The man in big work boots and a thick canvas jacket squints around the store. He rubs his scruffy face with a hardened hand and turns to Steve. “Yeah, actually,” he says in a gruff, gravely voice. “I was looking for this movie for my wife. It’s her birthday and…”

He rambles on about her favorite movie, a cartoon from her childhood he’s gone two towns over to find. It’s sweet enough to give you butterflies, though it doesn’t match the zoo that erupts in your stomach when Steve turns to look at you again.

He departs from you with a honey gaze. You smile back at him as he goes, watching him intently as he helps the customer with a pretty pink smile.

Your hands are cold again. So much that they ache with you curl them into fists. 

You can’t wait for Steve to hold you again tonight. Over a white-clothed table, warm yellow candlelight, and wine-slicked lips. 

Enzo’s. Seven o’clock.

[tadpolesinyourshoes]

more od my stardew brain rot for the masses. I present:

My headcannons after life after marriage with the SDV bachelor/ettes:

Its kinda long, sorry and I also apologize for typos or if its incoherent. I'm no writer

Harvey:

You thoughy he worried avout your health BEFORE you got together, oh boy oh boy. He's alaays asking how you feel, bringing you snacks amd water while you work the farm. He cleans you up after the mines (while he lectures you about the dangers). He likes the domestic moments. The days it rains and you stay inside together with warm cups of coffee, snuggled up in the bed. Hes a classica kind of guy. He leaves roses on the table and brings you breakfast in bed. Since hes a doctor, you're both awake early. Every morning is filled with sleepy kisses and coffee. He never leaves the house without a kiss and a 'see you later'.

Shane:

This man is ANXIOUS. Hes a bundle of self doubt and insecurity. He spends his hours thinking how great you are and how itd a matter of time until you leave him. Reassure him, please. He absolutely loves every minute you're with him. Hes acrually a surprisingly good cook. He also is so good with kids. He definitely wants kids after seeing you with Jas. Hes not big on saying how he feels, but he's working on it. Instead he helps out here and there, feeding the chickens (he actually loves doing that), cleaning the house, cooking a meal when you get home late. Little touches when you're alone. His leg agaisnt yours, his hand gently in your hair while you sleep. He loves you more than anything (except the chickens. Knoe your place.)

Elliot:

He is down SO BAD. Carries a picture of the two of you everywhere. He shows you off whenever he has the chance. Hes just so proud of his sweetheart. He cooks well, but he hates cooking so you two agree to split the chores. You're his muse ans you best believe he makes it known. He leaves you poems; post-it notes on the mirror, on a napkin on the counter, written on the bavk of th grocery list, a torn out notebook page in your coat pocket. He loves when you do his hair. If you don't know how, he teaches you. On slow days on the farm, you leave the front door open for some air and you can hear him playing piano.

Alex:

His love language is tackling you (physical touch). You walk through the door and hes hugging you, kissing your cheeks, picking you up and taking you to bed. He can't cook, but he can bake. Evelyn taught him and he treasures the skill. For every anniversary, no matter how small, he makes a treat. He loves helping you around the farm because its an excuse to walk around shirtless and flex for you. He also has a weirdly green thumb. The crops wont sprout and the season is almost over? Send Alex to water them. The next moening you have a bounty like no other.

Sam:

He has ADHD so he does that peguin pebbling thing where he finds random objects and brings them to you because 'this reminded me of you.' He can't cook. For the love of yoba don't let him cook unless you want to remodel your kitchen. He still tries to be sweet though. Hes not a morning person, but when you wake up early he stumbled put of bed, hair messy, eyes closed and follows you like a sad puppy. Hes so clingy. Like SO clingy. Personal space. Gone. He talks to you through the bathroom door, holds you while you sleep, wants to be next to you all the time. He also loves your animals, especially the chickens. He has one favorite, but he won't say it (he might hurt the others feelings). Sometimes you come back from town and hes sitting outside on the porch talking to the chickens, who look strangely invested.

Sebastian:

He loves you so much, but he hates that everyone KNOWS he loves you. You gush about the sweet things he does to your friends and he goes bright red in the ears. The townsfolk ask about you so he tries to avoid having to talk to them. When you're alone though, he's the total opposite. Hes quiet, sure, but he does whatever he can to help you out. A kiss on your cheek before he goes to water the crops for you. Makes you a cup of coffee after work. When he was little, robin taught him how to carve and widdle. He makes you cute wooden figures, usually modeled after your animals. He takes you to the city for weekend date nights. He asks you to go on rides just to feel your arms around him.

Leah:

She treats you like the most beautiful painting shes ever layed her eyes on. When you're sitting with her on the beach, she'll paint dancing swirls up your arms to your hands. (Maybe you get it tattooed one day and she cries). All the paintings in your house are made by her. Much like Elliott, youre her muse. She makes you sit so she can paint you or practice sketching. But she can never get enough of you. When you lay together, she meticulously traces the shapes of your body. Your hands, your nose, your hips. Everything about you is perfect to her.

Emily:

She's a free, creative person. She wakes you up late at night to look at the stars and dance by the river. Shes been making a quilt out of scrap fabric for your bed. She tries to tesch you how to sew it so you cam be a part of it. She helps you with the crops and picks fresh vegetables when theh grow so she can make you beautiful dinners. She loves to cook for you because you always have something good to say about it. She could be on food network, you swear it. Every day when she gets ready, right after putting on her lipstick, she kisses your cheek to leave a little mark. You leave it there while you do your chores.

Penny:

Penny is naturally an early bird. She wakes up each morning with you. You two share a few minutes of quiet before stsrting coffee. You take turns making breakfast. Penny is so used to keeping the house up by herself after living with Pam, so being with you is a breath of fresh air. But she still likes to help you out. So before going to teach the kids, she helps out in the garden. You pass by in town while shes walking the kids home. You join them on their walk and Jas starts asking you for that princess story again. As you tell it, you see Penny's cheeks go pink. Its only the story of how you met. But to you it felt like a fairy tale. You walk home with your wife every day, sharing stories of your day while settling down on the porch.

Abigail:

Shes high energy. She heard about it, she wants to try it. Take her to the city to a nigt club and she'll dance circles with you all night. She makes you matching bracelets and you never dare to take it off. When you go down to the mines, she wants to come with. She doesn't fear them, but that scares you. You have to convince her to stay with the farm every time. But you always bring her a beautiful gemstone back. You think the amythest brings out her eyes. Shes a decent cook, actually. Contrary to what Sam and Sebastion may say. Her recipes are odd, but somehow, they always work out. Shes not a morning person, she won't get up even if you shake her. But somehow she knows if you forget to give her a kiss on your way out the door.

Haley:

She takes a million pictures of you. She loves to. You hide your face, she tells you how much she likes your smile. You're working on the farm and hear the shutter click. She likes the ways your arms look when you roll up your sleeves. After a long day in town, you bring her flowers. Shes always waiting up for you. She likes to slow dance in the living room and hear about your adventures from the day. She tells Alex about how great you are. Everytime you walk by and catch her off gaurd, she fixes her hair so she 'looks nice'. You just kiss her and tell her she looks nice all the time.

Maru:

She loves to help you out on thr farm. Just not... conventionally. She is her father's daughter, so shes always making you new inventions to make the farm run smoother. Better fertilizer, fresh feed thst produces better eggs, though she was banned from tending the animald after one of her feeds turned your chickens eggs bright pink. She loves to walk around town with you, always with your hand in hers. She's not a cook, but she still tries to learn from you. Shes learning, but she mostly just likes getting to be near you while you cook.

[zeroseuniverse]

Designed With Love

Word Count: 947 Summary: In which you adore your boyfriend and his love for fashion. Genre: Fluff!!

Hwang Intak was and always had been your muse, there was something about the way his brown eyes sparkled when he took in something beautiful. He could find beauty in anything and that might be your favorite thing about him, as the leaves changed in color and the trees he would speak as if a friend was leaving for a trip and would be back soon. 

But you? You made it your life mission to make him always look at himself with those sparkly eyes, the day he expressed an interest in fashion and modeling you had bought at least 10 magazines on the topic and did research for a month, secretly practicing stitching and hemming to make outfits he would love. Her worn notebook had been filled with sketches and notes, plenty of ideas sprawled throughout the worn leather.

That same book was laid out on the table in the local coffee shop that you loved. You had come here to get some space from your chaotic family and your boyfriend had said he needed to run a few errands for his family before he could hang out. So you were happily drawing out your latest idea, it had come to you last week when Intak had cried over some kdrama, he rambled for hours about all of the different subtle ways the main couple had expressed love without actually saying the words. Ever the hopeless romantic, you wondered just how many times you both had shared actions together that subtly told each other just how much you loved each other. You looked around the cafe remembering all of the memories you both held together in this cafe, you could remember the day you had gotten forced into a blind date by your mom and Intak had dressed up in disguise to watch over the event, though the disguise was thrown away the second the clock struck 5 and the date didn’t show, he slid into the booth across from you and ordered your favorite food and drink. That was the night the man had confessed his feelings for you, and because of him, you forgot you were even stood up. You could remember the cold morning in the winter when you both warmed up with hot cocoa and snuggled together in the booth as you helped each other with homework well you helped him because he fell asleep during class since he had a late night at practice, thankfully you had written notes for him and walked him through everything. 

Intak had finally finished the errands, he woke up as early as he could to get them knocked out as quickly as possible. He typically had a busy schedule and all he wanted was to cuddle up with his partner and watch a movie. He blissfully entered their usual cafe ready to order a drink for both of you before heading over to your house, but when he walked in and saw you already sitting, scribbling away his eyes lit up. He rushed over to the booth, accidentally catching a look at your oh-so-secret journal he gasped, “Is that me?” 

The sudden voice startled you out of your focus, eyes snapping over to your boyfriend in a panic, quickly slamming the book shut, “My love! You finished your errands so fast.” You cooed hopping up to greet your lover; However, you had unfortunately gotten dodged, and he slipped around your frame quickly grabbing the book. He opened it to a random page before you could even turn around to fight for it. When you finally turned around you saw his eyes scanning over the pages, his eyes sparkling as he took in all of the delicately written notes. Things from how the colors affected his appearance and which fabrics were the most comfortable to him, he flipped the page, gasping when he saw the sketches. 

“I’m sorry if it’s creepy. I just- I know you love clothes so I was trying to”

“Baby, these are amazing!” He cooed, sitting down in the booth to keep looking through the journal, you awkwardly sat next to him, not knowing what to say about this situation, “How long have you been doing this?”

“A few years…” You answered, watching as he trailed his fingers over the pages with such a tender touch, his eyes were welling up slightly as he was filled with so much warmth. 

“How come you never told me?” He wondered, setting the journal to the side, hand now reaching out to grab your own, eyes looking directly into yours.  “I wanted to wait until I was good enough. I wanted to make something so pretty that you would love it.” You explained, feeling silly for keeping it a secret now, “I’m starting a class to learn how to make the clothes next week, I was hoping to make you an outfit for our anniversary.” His smile resembled the sun with how bright it was shining. 

“I would love that, but ya know…” He started, causing your heart to pound, terrified he’d think your idea was idiotic, “How about we take that class together? We can design clothes for each other. We can dress each other up!”

You couldn’t stop your heart from bursting from just how adorable your boyfriend looked with the excitement plastered over his features. And the idea? It was so romantic, your heart throbbed.

“Let’s do it.” 

And once the deal was sealed with a kiss, Intak hopped up to go order your usual orders happy to learn all about designing over some coffee and a snack. Listening to your voice as you spoke about your passions was a bonus too.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

headcanons for the male spouses as transmascs/trans men?

Sure thing, dear anon 💕 (Sorry the headcanons turned out short):

_________________________________________

Some random headcanons with SDV bachelors as a transmascs/trans men:

Harvey loves it when Farmer rests on his chest, showering him with tender words and kissing the scars under his pecs. Nowhere does he feel more calm and happy than in bed in the early morning, where Farmer, half asleep, rests their head on his chest and both lovers enjoy a peaceful morning. Are Farmer sure they have to go somewhere else on business? Maybe they and Harvey should stay in bed for another hour or two?

Even having an unpleasant period, Elliott doesn't abandon his writing desk, hoping that the very muse is about to appear to help him find inspiration and finish the last chapter of his novel. Except that Farmer is not happy to see the writer torturing himself like this, so they persuade him to drag the workaholic writer back to bed to rest, give him painkillers and whatever else he needs to feel better. Elliott is truly grateful to his spouse for taking such good care of him 💕

Shane isn't usually a fan of committing his feelings and worries to someone else, but he loves Farmer, they've been together for a long time. So Shane thought it was only fair to tell them that because of who he was, his parents had literally kicked Shane out of the house. They weren't a perfect family as it was, but this... His aunt and niece, and then his beloved Farmer, had made him feel what a real family was like.

In summer, the clean and beautiful beach at Stardew Valley are a favourite spot not only for locals but also for tourists. One such tourist shouted to the volleyball-playing Sam and Farmer "Yo!" pointing to Sam's top surgery scars. Sam saw their top scars and responded with the same "Yo!" and the two stood there pointing at each other like that Spiderman meme. They both exchanged warm words and goodbyes, and Farmer watched with a smile as his spouse just glowed with joy and positivity.

Sometimes Alex can get so enthusiastic about his workout that he completely forgets to take off his binder before the workout. Thankfully, his spouse always reminds him before he starts heavy physical exercises. It's just that Alex is so used to them that sometimes he doesn't even notice. Farmer decided to give him an electronic watch in which you can put memos. Now Alex will remember to take his binder off, stay hydrated, and even know how many calories he burned today. Hey, this thing is neat!

Sebastian used to be pretty quiet (more quiet than usual) because he didn't like the sound of his own voice. The local emo when talking to friends or grocery shopping at Pierre's always tried a lower tone of voice to see how it would be. He still has that voice, although smoking has made it a bit muffler. The Farmer still loves Sebastian and his voice, especially they love listening to his laugh after another bad pun or joke. If they can, Farmer would listen to him all day long.

[oh-nostalgiaa]

Writing Prompt Masterlist, Part Ten

Masterlist of Writing Prompt Masterlists

The Prompts

12 Days of Smutsmas Prompts

30 Top / Dom Prompts

A Collection of Five Times Drabble Prompts

A Few Various Sentence Starter Prompts

A Random Act of Kindness Prompts

Abilities & Super-Powered Themed Prompts

Affectionate Prompts

Affection Sentence Starter Prompts

An Extremely Self-Indulgent Physical Contact / Tickly Prompt Collection

Another Kiss Prompts

Around the World in 80 Prompts

Asking for Permission Prompts

Bed & Sleepy Prompts

Caring for Sick Muses Prompts

Casual NSFW Conversation Sentence Starter Prompts

Christmas AU Prompts

Cuteness Prompts

Different Ways to Hug Someone Prompts

Dirty Talk Prompts

Distracted by the Sexy Starter Prompts

Domestic Bickering Sentence Starter Prompts

Emotional Starter Prompts (Anger)

Even More Stuff Based on Personal Experiences Prompts

Febuwhump 2024 Prompts

Fictional Kiss Things That End Me Prompts

First Meetings Prompts

Fluffbruary 2024 Prompts

Fluffmas List Prompts

Fluffy & Cute Prompts

For a Lover's Reassurance Prompts

Friends with Benefits OTP Prompts

Gentle Touch Prompts

Grumpy x Sunshine Prompts

Heartbreak Prompts

Heroic Intervention Prompts

Holiday AU's for the Christmas Spirit Prompts

I Deserve Better Than This Prompts

I Love You But I Can't Say Those Words Prompts

I Miss You Dialogue Response Prompts

I Really Want to Kiss You Right Now Prompts

I'm Sorry Starter Prompts

Idiots to Lovers Romantic Starter Prompts

It's So Fluffy! Sentence Starter Prompts

January OTP Prompts

Just Like a Pillow Prompts

Kisses Prompts

Levels of Intimacy Prompts

List of AU's That Aren't Themed At All Prompts

Lyrics for Unconventional Ship Dynamics Prompts

Marriage Proposal Starter Prompts, Part One

Marriage Proposal Starter Prompts, Part Two

Miscellaneous Action Meme Prompts

Missing Them Sentence Starter Prompts

More Touch Starved Prompts

Non-sexual Acts of Affection Prompts

Non-Verbal NSFW Prompts, Part One

NSFW Muse Reaction Prompts

NSFW Sentence Starter Prompts

Oddly Specific Sensual Touches Prompts

Only One Bed Prompts

Pinned Against a Wall Prompts

Powerful Prompts

Prompt List, Fluff Edition

Prompts for Fake Dating & Going Undercover

Prompts That Hit in All the Right Places

Question Sentence Starter Prompts

Random Sentence Starter Prompts

Random Settings Prompts

Reassurance Starter Prompts

Sacred Romantic Moments Prompts

Sacrifices Sentence Starter Prompts

Setting Prompts

Sexual Sounds, Words, & Actions Prompts

Sexual Tension / Attraction Prompts

Smut NSFW Starter Prompts

Smut Oneliner Prompts

Smut Starters & Symbols Prompts

Smutty One-Liners Part VI Prompts

Soft Action Prompts

Soft Fic Prompts

Soulmate & Significant Connection AU Prompts

Spots to Kiss Prompts

Starters for Quiet Muses Prompts

Stoic x Cheerful First Kiss Prompts

Sweet and Intimate Actions Which Make Me Go Feral and Have Me Folding Like a Folding Chair Prompts

The Enormity of My Desire Prompts

The Five Senses Starter Prompts

The Intimacy of Hands Prompts

The Sweet, Early Morning Things Prompts

Things You Said Prompts

Touch Starved Prompts

Touching Tenderly Prompts

Undercover Sentence Starter Prompts

Underrated Affectionate Gestures Prompts

Unspoken Fluff Starter Prompts, Part 2

Violent Starter Prompts

What We Almost Had Starter Prompts

Wisdom Teeth Removal AU Prompts

Would You ... ? Prompts

[owl127]

I second the alpha x alpha clexa fic! Your idea with nerdy Lexa and femme Clarke sounds great!

read on Ao3

(Next)

Like the tide, regret came in waves. First, the music. Whoever dared to call themselves the DJ of the party simply selected some random playlist and abandoned it to fester on the loudspeakers. Second, Anya had vanished the moment they stepped into the house, mumbling something about a girl, which meant Lexa would be coming home alone that night. And finally, just like being swallowed by a tide, Lexa regretted coming to this party when she choked on the cheap concoction of punch fruit mix and low shelf vodka. 

Regret, regret, regret. Coming to this party had been a mistake. She escaped to the backyard of the house hoping to find freedom from mediocre music and people. Ignoring a huddle of stoners that offered her a joint—no thank you; she had soccer practice early the next morning—she made her way to the back gate. Freedom was close. Suddenly too close, when the wooden gate opened from the outside straight at her face and Lexa fell backwards, ungracefully.

“Holy shit!” She heard someone call from above her. Lexa would love to yell at her perpetrator as soon as she could open her eyes, but then something warm filled her mouth.

“Fuck, you killed her, Clarke.”

“I didn’t kill her!” The voice was closer, and someone helped her sit up. Lexa opened her eyes, saw blue, and closed them again. She blinked hard, unfocused. “Here, put this under your nose,” the same voice instructed, gentle, and Lexa felt pressure under her nose. 

“Is she okay?”

“Hi. Can you hear us?” Lexa finally regained full consciousness and stared at maybe the one reason she would stay at a horrible party. 

“Hi,” Lexa mumbled from under the cloth on her nose. Everything hurt. Her nose, her cheek, her face. It was like the day she had hit her face against the goal post back in high school, but this time she didn’t score.

“What’s your name?” Her rescuing muse asked, her warm hand holding whatever was keeping Lexa’s nose from bleeding. 

“Lexa.” Lexa felt for all her teeth with her tongue. No gaps. That was good. “What happened?”

“She tried to kill you,” someone said from above them, and the muse flipped them off.

“It was an accident. O, get some of the beer ice for me?”

Lexa took a deep breath and tried to free her face from whatever was on it. 

“Let’s keep it there for a little more, okay? Until the bleeding stops. It doesn’t look bad, though. You’ll live.”

“Good.” Lexa tasted copper on her tongue. “I like to live.”

The laugher that erupted from her savior was melodic and low, like a touch of salt in a sweet cupcake. Lexa liked it. 

“Here.” The cloth, which Lexa noticed was a hoodie, was replaced by ice in a ziplock bag, and the coolness immediately soothed Lexa’s senses. “Hold that to your nose. Let’s take a look at it somewhere quieter.” Lexa accepted the hand and stood up, noticing the couple of inches she had on the girl. They walked back to the house, and her saving angel greeted the stoners with high fives, never letting Lexa’s hand go. 

“Benji’s locked downstairs, and there’s a bathroom there,” the girl said, as if any of those words made sense, guiding Lexa through the party crowd. Lexa focused on not tripping and holding the ice to her face; she failed at both. They made it to a door behind the stairs and, once it clicked shut, a merciful extra layer was between them and the loud music. 

Lexa plopped on the couch, hissing, and tried to touch her nose. 

“Wait, let me see.” Without distractions, Lexa could only look at the girl next to her. Her pink glitter eyeshadow was smudged, but her lips were still pristine cherry red. Delicate fingers touched Lexa with such care that she closed her eyes again. “Not broken. Just a bump,” she declared.

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve done that once or twice. I’m Clarke, by the way. Sorry about the whole gate-at-your-face thing. We were out getting beer because the vodka bomb Bellamy made is disgusting.” 

“It is disgusting. I’m Lexa.”

“You told me.” The girl said easily, a satisfied grin on her face when her hands left Lexa’s numb cheek. “I asked you before to make sure you were not unconscious.”

“I’m conscious.”

“That you are.” Lexa tried and failed to not look at the exposed cleavage every time Clarke laughed. Maybe being hit in the face had its advantages, like meeting the cutest omega at the party. 

“Is this your party?” Lexa asked, twitching her nose to test it out. It burned, but less so, and Lexa wasn’t sure if that was because of the effect of the ice or the girl. 

“Gods, no!” Clarke laughed again and Lexa had become addicted to it. “Bellamy is my friend O’s brother, and this is his party. We tried to offer ideas, but he wanted to do it all himself. That’s why it sucks.”

“It kinda sucks.”

Clarke looked at something behind Lexa, her smile blossoming into something warm and inviting. “Oh, hey, Benji.” Lexa turned her head to see a black cat with two big white spots staring at them from atop the dryer. He purred when Clarke motioned for him to come and made his way to her lap. He ignored Lexa completely, jumping above her shoulder to land on Clarke’s jeans. “Such a good boy.” She petted him a couple of times, and he spread himself on her lap in a cute offering. “He hides here whenever there’s new people in the house.”

Lexa risked a touch to the cat’s fur, and if he didn’t like strangers, he was too absorbed in Clarke’s caress to notice. She couldn’t blame him. Her fingers grazed Clarke’s, and no one pulled away. Benji purred in cat heaven-bliss, his legs up in the air at the attention.

“He’s the cutest thing ever,” Clarke whispered, leaning down to kiss the cat’s head. Lexa’s mind, so unprepared for the boost in cleavage view and a hot girl leaning down on her lap, swallowed the aftertaste of blood and repeated,

“The Cutest thing ever.” Clarke looked up, the glitter on her eyeshadow quivering with a single raised eyebrow. That was a challenge Lexa took head on, so she completed, “and the cat is not too bad.”

Clarke laughed, quiet and rich, and tucked a stray blonde lock behind her ear. “You’re not concussed, are you?”

Lexa frowned, her hand touching Clarke’s palm above the endless purring. “I hope not. But maybe I am a little to have the guts to flirt with you.”

Clarke’s smile was wide and beautiful, a small dimple on her cheek sparkling with makeup. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume. That’s on me for judging a book by the cover.” Her finger played with her hair again and Lexa saw a blush creeping down from her cheeks to her neck. She wanted to kiss the pink taking over pale skin, sink her teeth and leave marks on mapped freckles. Was that a concussion or a crush?

Between them, the monochrome cat was satisfied with the attention and jumped on the ground, leaving their hands with no excuse on why they were still touching. Lexa knew it was her role to take action; she would lean in and kiss those beautiful lips, get all smudged in red lipstick, finally find out how soft that little spot under her jaw would feel and—

Clarke kissed her while Lexa planned her move. It was gentle, mindful of Lexa’s nose, and yet Clarke’s tongue was slow but purposeful, an insistent explorer of everything Lexa wanted to give. Lexa opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, swallowing the moan that escaped Clarke’s lips. She welcomed the hand on her hips, allowing herself to be pulled closer, until that wasn’t enough, and she bit under Clarke’s jaw, whispering, “Do you want to sit on my lap?”

The grin that spread on Clarke’s face was predatory. All teeth and dimples, ready to pounce. So she was that type of omega, okay. Lexa could roll with that. Clarke’s hands were gentle when she cradled the back of Lexa’s head, pulling it to reveal Lexa’s pulsing point on her neck. 

“You good? Your nose okay?” Clarke asked, breath heavy against Lexa’s lips, and Lexa would endure another gate to her face just to kiss this woman again. She nodded and gasped when Clarke sat fully on her lap. She was warm, warmer than her hands, all hot touches of tongue and hands. Clarke’s knees hit the back of the couch, her breasts on display as she moved her hair aside and leaned in for another kiss. They parted for air, breaths mingling, and Clarke rolled her hips and Lexa couldn’t suppress a moan.

“That wasn’t because of your nose, was it?” Clarke’s eyes spoke of want, but her words were laced with concern. Lexa smiled and kissed her, tongues meeting halfway. 

“No,” she reassured the woman on her lap, hooking her fingers on Clarke’s belt. “That was something else.”

Clarke rolled her hips again, and Lexa bit her lip not to gasp. “I wonder what?” Clarke teased, grinding her hips farther. Lexa had not predicted a handjob tonight, but sure, she also had not predicted being knocked out, but there she was. 

“Fuck,” Clarke hissed above her, and Lexa continued her diligent work on her ear. She sucked the earrings there, licked the reddening skin, then went for another kiss. She ignored the protest her nose made when Clarke pushed back, hunger in her gasps. “You kiss like you mean it,” Clarke confessed mid-kiss, her hands toying with Lexa’s button-up shirt. “Can I open this?” Lexa nodded and continued to kiss Clarke’s neck as her buttons fell open, one haphazardly after the other. Clarke’s hands toyed with the underside of her sports bra, painted nails pulling at the elastic. Lexa made a questioning noise in the back of her throat that Clarke interpreted correctly, her own blouse hitting the floor. Black lace and peaked nipples welcomed Lexa.

“You’re gorgeous,” Lexa whispered, her mouth closing on a nipple, and Clarke was the one making embarrassing sounds. Lexa hummed at the scrape of nails on her nape, pulling her head impossibly closer, and she obliged, the pain a minor distraction in her mind so overpowered by boobs. Lexa helped Clarke to start a rhythm, her hands on her backside pulling her back and forth, the heat between them growing. There was a particular grind where Clarke’s jeans met Lexa’s hardening member just right, and her hips moved to meet hers in sync. “Fuck, you’re making me hard,” Lexa confessed into blonde hair, her tongue licking under Clarke’s chin. Clarke hummed with the praise, her hips never stopping.

“Me too, babe.” She breathed hot on Lexa’s ear, leaving lipstick marks all over Lexa’s skin. 

Lexa didn’t process what Clarke said. Too preoccupied with damp lace under her tongue to fully comprehend what Clarke had said. Until she wasn’t. “Wait, what?”

Clarke didn’t stop their grinding, sucking a deep mark on Lexa’s neck. “What did you say?” Lexa repeated the question, moving one hand to Clarke’s lower back. Hazed, with pupils eating at the blue of her eyes, Clarke blinked, tilting her head to the side. 

“What?” Clarke asked, now confusion between her knitted eyebrows. “Is your nose okay?”

“I’m fine, but… are you—” Lexa didn’t have to form the question. All she had to do was look beyond the boobs—a herculean task with an almost half-naked Clarke on her lap—to see the bulge in her own pants. And the other one in Clarke’s. The sweet, sweet grinding had been — “You’re an alpha,” Lexa wheezed, eyes wide.

Unphased, Clarke tucked a stray braid back behind Lexa’s ear. “Yeah?”

“I… I did not know that.”

Clarke chuckled, the new bruise on her neck shining a light pink. “That’s the problem of assuming things about people, isn’t it?”

“But.” Lexa’s eyes fixed on her own erection and the matching one in Clarke’s pants. Clarke had a penis. A legitimate dick. Hard. Which had been grinding against Lexa’s own. “But I’ve never been with an alpha,” Lexa said, and finally looked up to find a tight smile. 

“If you’re going to be a jerk about it,” Clarke warned, “you better fucking leave now.”

“No, no, no, it’s not like that. It’s that I’ve never…” She bit her lip and watched as Clarke looked her up and down.

“It’s the first time you desire an alpha.” Clarke rolled her hips in emphasis. “The first time you get hard for one.”

Lexa couldn’t do anything but nod. This was… weird. No, different. Unprecedented. Not unpleasant; quite the contrary. Clarke was a cloud of perfume and painted nails and still looked damn heck proud of her status. Lexa admired that. She wanted that.

“I understand if you want to stop.” Clarke kissed Lexa’s cheek. “But I’d really like to touch you. You look like you’d moan my name as you come.” There was that embarrassing noise in Lexa’s throat again. “Or,” Clarke continued atop her throne, running a single finger down Lexa’s chin. “You can go home and jerk off thinking about fucking me. So what do you say?” 

Anya would make so much fun of her if she knew. Or would she? Would anyone even care?

“Yes.” Lexa lifted her head to find Clarke’s lips, but she pulled back, a warm, so warm hand on Lexa’s chest. 

“Yes to what, Lexa? I need to hear you say it.”

Swallowing on nothing, Lexa focused on kiss-swollen lips. “I want you to touch me.” Lexa didn’t hear her own voice, not with blood rushing everywhere at once. Her ears popped, her heart throbbed desperately in her ribcage and pleasantly between her legs. Clarke’s lips were rough on hers, her always-warm hands strong when she lowered Lexa’s zipper. Had she always been so intense and only now Lexa associated this with being an alpha? Or being an alpha had nothing to do with it; was that just Clarke?

“Do you usually do this with other alphas?” Lexa said through gritted teeth, her hands digging into Clarke’s jeans. Clarke closed her fist around her and Lexa moaned, leaning her forehead on Clarke’s shoulder. 

“Sometimes.” Clarke kissed Lexa’s temple, lingering there for a moment. Lexa twitched in Clarke’s hand. “Lexa.” She coaxed Lexa out of hiding. With her free hand, she held Lexa’s chin, and the corners of her eyes lowered at whatever she saw in Lexa’s face. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting another alpha, Lexa.” Her dominant hand around Lexa moved, a slow up and down, almost a lazy stroke. Clarke did everything with precision, a hidden, meaningful grace. “It doesn’t make you less of an alpha, or a woman.” Following the cadence of Lexa’s gasps, Clarke sped up, spreading the dripping need along Lexa’s shaft. “Or me. I’m no less of an alpha for doing this.” Clarke looked down, and Lexa would never forget how fascinated she looked. 

“Come here.” Lexa leaned for a kiss and helped Clarke sit next to her instead. “Can you touch yourself while you touch me?” 

Clarke nodded enthusiastically at the proposal, her first graceless move the way she spread her legs and wiggled until the tight jeans were below her hips. Lexa loved that she had thin, lacy briefs that did nothing to hide her arousal. Lexa’s fingers clawed at Clarke’s thighs, and she hoped to leave marks, a visceral need taking over to have any kind of claim on her. 

If Clarke wasn’t an expert on this, no one else would be. She moved both hands in sync, watching for clues on Lexa’s face and bucking her hips at each stroke. Lexa mimicked her movements, their hips jumping in tandem, fingers digging into pale skin. Lexa tilted her head to bite Clarke’s shoulder.

Tongue on Clarke’s bruised skin, Lexa asked, “Can I?”

“What?” Clarke’s half-lidded eyes widened as Lexa’s right hand moved in her direction. Clarke was apparently left-handed, and Lexa was right-handed, a perfect combination as Lexa, for the first time in her life, held someone else’s hard, leaking cock.

“Fuck,” Lexa whined as Clarke sped up at her first touch. Clarke was thick, thicker than her, but Lexa did what usually worked for her, wrist twisting close to the knot and light at the head. Clarke moaned, tightening her grip on Lexa. Pre-come poured freely from Lexa’s head, coating Clarke’s hands, making the gliding smoother.

“Harder,” Clarke asked in a gasp, and Lexa struggled to keep her rhythm, liquid beading over Clarke’s broad head. “Yeah, babe, like that.”

Lexa bit her lip at the term of endearment. Part of her wanted to giggle at having another grown alpha calling her babe, but whatever was left of her functional brain melted at Clarke’s voice.

“I can’t wait to feel your cock inside me.”

An image flashed in Lexa’s closed eyelids as vividly as a memory: Clarke, all soft curves and hard cock, on all fours, head buried in a pillow as Lexa fucked and fucked into her. “That’s it, babe, come for me.”

Lexa grunted, her hips missing the increasing pace. Fuck, she was going to come already. She could feel it building in her belly. She opened her eyes to see Clarke kicking off her pants and straddling her again. Clarke shifted closer, her proud erection an angry red, and Lexa salivated. “This is alright?” Lexa nodded, and moaned as Clarke’s hand closed around her again, but this time Clarke’s cock was touching hers, teasing the sensitive underside. It transfigured Lexa; her cock was longer, but Clarke topped in girth, and the knot forming at her base was impressive. They glided together, Clarke using her hand to stimulate them. 

“God,” Clarke moaned on top of Lexa, her breasts bouncing, her hips thrusting forward, and Lexa wondered if she would look like that while riding her.

“Clarke, Clarke, I’m going to—”

“Make a mess, babe.” There was an unmistakable alpha tone to Clarke’s voice, and it was that what pushed Lexa into sweet oblivion. She came with a long moan that died on Clarke’s neck, thrusting into Clarke’s hand with hard thrusts of her hips. She felt the splash of warm come on her belly, and then Clarke was joining her, a long, high-pitched moan leaving her lips as she continued to stroke them and scratch Lexa’s nape at the same time.

Indeed, they made a mess.

It took a long time for Lexa to open her eyes, her abs twitching in aftershocks, when Clarke finally released her. Her nose ached, but she kept it pressured against Clarke’s neck, enjoying the scent that became stronger there.

“You good?” Clarke asked, guiding Lexa to look up at her. Lexa smiled at the smudged lipstick. 

“Yeah.”

“You really look concussed now.”

“Worth it.”

Clarke kissed Lexa’s cheek, lingering there. “Is it okay if I asked for your number? In case you don’t regret this alpha experience.”

“I don’t regret it,” Lexa said, nuzzling into Clarke’s neck. “I kind of want to do it again.”

“Hmm…” Clarke’s fingers grazed Lexa’s chin, lifting it for a short, sweet kiss. “There are other things we could do, too. Just saying.”

Lexa blinked slowly, the mental images taking life. Between them, her cock twitched, curious. Clarke kissed her, albeit softly. “But you really look like you need a break. Can I drive you home?”

Lexa realized that saying no to Clarke was extremely difficult.

And she was okay with that.

(Next)

[shimmerbeasts]

MUN MONDAY: GETTING TO KNOW YOU

Respond to the following prompts out of character, then tag others you'd like to get to know a little bit better!

ROLEPLAYER NAME: Miss Tantabis, but people usually call me Miss T or T for short.

ROLEPLAYER PRONOUNS: She/her

MUSE NAME: Jinx, Vi, Naafiri (Arcane/LoL), Mizora, Wyll, Lae'zel, Khaevis, Zariel (BG3 Fantasy). My primary muses are Mizora and Jinx. Secondary are Vi, Wyll and, perhaps, Lae'zel. Tertiary are Khaevis and Zariel. However, I tend to go based on which muse I feel the strongest.

PREFERRED COMMUNICATION: Here or Discord, both works well

EXPERIENCE: On Tumblr, I have about nine years in the back by now. When it comes to things like DnD, my current only experience is Baldur's Gate 3 actually as the last time, I played with my father was years ago.

PREFERRED ROLEPLAY TYPE: I prefer novella or para roleplay. I also prefer things, which are a good mix between character- and story-driven. Genre-wise, I lean heavily into things like angst, horror or hurt/comfort. I am also someone, who absolutely adores a well-written character dynamic, the more twisted, convoluted and complicated the better.

PET PEEVES & DEALBREAKERS: Communication is a big one for me. And I am not just talking about discussing the plot or mentioning when something bugs you. I also mean discussing our characters with one another. I have noticed that roleplays come easier and have more nuance if we talk about the type of dynamic, we want our muses to have, and just in general to talk about them. I am also aware that I too have to remember to communicate with other people, though, I am trying to get better at it. Another pet peeve/deal breaker I have is the defanging of my characters. I do not like it if the threat my characters pose is not acknowledged or talked down or minimised in some way. By that, I mean in the sense of out of character. I put a lot of thought and effort into creating a certain feel for my muses and I do not like it if I am left feeling as if I missed the mark in what I aimed to do.

PLOTS OR MEMES: I am more of a plotting person. This again ties into my communication pet peeve. I am not saying that you have to have every detail of an rp figured out, but I like having a bit of a set-up: Like where are we? What are we doing aka what is a possible goal? And of course, the big one, what is the dynamic between our characters? I prefer using memes as icebreakers and as a way to try out things before we use plotting and discussion to further flesh out what becomes of the meme. That is especially for people, who I do not know yet. If I already know you really well and know our characters very well, I do not mind, just jumping in with memes or even random asks.

LONG REPLIES OR SHORT REPLIES: I already answered this before on accident, but I am a para-novella rper. I am sorry, but making short replies as in things below two paragraphs is really hard for me. So, do not try to write with me, if you are more a oneliner/quick stuff person.

BEST TIME TO WRITE: I prefer writing in the early morning and late afternoon/evening. Sometimes, if my head allows for it, I can also get some replies done during the middle of the day, but for that, I have to not be busy studying etc.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSES: I am only going to talk about my primary muses, otherwise, I will not get to finish this whole meme. I think the answer is a mix of yes and no. Yes, in the sense of that, there will always be a bit of myself, even if subconsciously, which I pour into my muses. There will always be something, which speaks to me on a personal level, even though I may not always be able to put into words what that is. At the same time, I am neither like Jinx, nor Mizora. I particularly hope I do not have their less desirable traits, and if I do have those, I hope I have them in an amount I can control. At the same time, I cherish writing my more malicious, feral or manipulative and cunning characters. Something about those traits does speak to me. Maybe it is a form of wishfulfilment in a safe environment.

Tagged by: @harpershigh Tagging: @faerunsfinestmisfits, @demonswcb, @dvilsdesire, @azzagrazt, @adaventuremuses, @apalestar

[rain-herb]

into the light

a short reikoga / kogarei piece i wrote like a month ago, slightly edited ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ [AO3 link]

“If I were to say, however,” Rei continues on, a small smile on his lips, “between us, you would be the sun, and I would be the moon.”

“I guess the moon does fit with your vampire image,” he muses, thinking of magazines with the special Feature Live outfits, what is your idol like up close and personal? sections and pictures of them in casual clothes, living their daily life. Sakuma Rei bathed in moonlight, smiling majestically. And now, Rei is sitting by his vegetable garden in a thin jacket over a long sleeved shirt he usually wears to sleep, chuckling at his words.

“That too, but that’s not entirely it.”

“Then what is it?”

Koga goes on a late night walk with Sakuma Rei.

..

By the third time Oogami Koga sits up in his bed, it becomes clear that he will not be getting any more sleep tonight.

For the longest time, he has made it a habit to go to bed around ten if he doesn’t have anything else to take care of, as an early riser who has a dog to walk in the morning and tasks to work on. 

This night in particular though, he got up to take a sip of water after waking from a weird dream he doesn’t remember much of, and all feelings of drowsiness just left him without a trace.

Has it been an hour? He consciously avoids looking at the clock (which comes with hands that glow in the dark, which should be convenient for time-checking in the dark, but not very much for sleepless nights where looking at the time only increases anxiety), lies down and continues to toss and turn around in his bed. The sound of the air conditioner feels louder than ever. He considers getting up and making himself a cup of hot chocolate, but that might wake his roommate up, and he knows that Kazehaya-senpai is very tired from a whole day of rehearsals for his unit’s upcoming collab LIVE.

Koga pulls his blanket over his shoulders and lets out a muffled curse. Five minutes pass—or maybe half an hour, he can’t be sure—and he gives up, sitting up in his bed.

A quick glance at the other side of the room tells him that his roommate is fast asleep. As quietly as he could manage, he gets up, changes into his usual practice clothes and slips out of the room.

As he turns the corner leading to the stairs of the dorm building, he finds himself face to face with Sakuma Rei, who he has not seen for almost a week due to Rei’s various photoshoots taking place in another city. His hair is messy in a way that suggests he just rolled out of bed (or his coffin) too.

“Koga,” Rei says, smiling.

“Sakuma-senpai,” he says back in greeting, some of his irritation already gone at the sight of that familiar face. Rei seems to brighten up as well.

“Hello to you too,” Rei nods. “No late night or early morning practice sessions today. Sorry.”

He shakes his head. “That’s fine. What are you doing up? Didn’t you just come back?” Koga asks, recalling their exchanges on LINE, the random, blurry pictures taken of cracked stone paths and the scenery from behind a dusty bus window. Rei’s pictures, being what they are, are not quite Instagram worthy in the way Kaoru’s pictures are (not that he has ever been an avid social media user), so he usually just sends them in the UNDEAD group chat or directly to Koga sometimes, accompanied with a string of kaomojis that he supposes are Rei's attempts at showing that he is, indeed, capable of using such features.

Rei shrugs. “Same reason as always. I did manage to get a few hours of sleep on the bus trip back.”

He makes a face - Rei’s sleeping habits are better now compared to before, but still. “You should go lie down for a while anyway.”

“I will, after this walk. And I can say the same to you too, Koga.”

“I couldn’t sleep. And there’s no school or work or lessons tomorrow, so I can just take a nap later in the day if I’m tired.”

“Okay. Come walk with me then.” And with that, Rei disappears down the stairs soundlessly, like a ghost in the night. Koga hurries after him.

Sometimes on the nights where they head off to early band practice, they would run into some other kid having a walk and getting some fresh air outside the dorms. He’s glad that tonight isn’t one of those nights.

They walk along the building. Rei asks him about school and club activities. He answers those questions, tells him about the twins, about Ricchi, even about teachers and class. The recent guitar lessons remain a secret, because he wants it to be a surprise. He asks about work and the trip and the food Rei had. Apparently the place has a lot of famous dessert shops. Not all were sweet, I think you would like some of them, says Sakuma-senpai. The breeze is cool and comfortable.

As they get close to the gardening area, Rei’s footsteps begin to slow. He approaches the neatly lined still-growing vegetables with great interest.

“How lovely.” He touches a tomato with a single outstretched finger. Koga swats his hand away defensively out of pure habit, to which he raises both hands, expression innocent, like he might just start doing his world-famous fake cry right this moment. Koga quickly cuts him off before that could happen.

“I wonder if I’ll have space to do gardening like this when I eventually move into my own home in the future.”

“What kind of house would you like to live in?”

“I dunno. I guess I could still grow stuff like tomatoes and onions and lettuce in an apartment, though the space would be much smaller than what I’m used to.”

Rei adds, “it has to have soundproof walls.”

A nod. “That’s for sure.”

“And extra space for Leon-kun.”

“He did fine in my small apartment from before and he’s okay in my current dorm room, but that sounds nice. He’d like it.”

“I’m sure it will be nice.”

“What kind of place would you like to stay in, Sakuma-senpai?” he asks, because surely Rei doesn’t enjoy his current rooming arrangement despite being somewhat used to it by now. His mind drifts back to certain hot summer days, the mention of houses with red roofs and lawns big enough for puppies. He couldn’t imagine Rei actually sitting in a lawn like that and sipping iced coffee while watching Leon (why would he be there in the first place?) have fun running around under the sun, but maybe it isn’t so hard to actually see after all. The idea of Sakuma Rei, all grown and happy, living in a home of his own. It is something he’d like to see become a reality more than anything else, he thinks.

Rei looks at him with that seemingly all-knowing stare, which puts in him the strange thought that Rei has managed to read his mind from the small smile that managed to sneak onto his lips for a few seconds. Which is impossible, of course, but Sakuma Rei just has that effect on people.

Rei’s eyes remain on him. Koga half expects him to say that same response from back then and then start musing about the past and the strange times they’ve gone through together, as he often does, like he’s actually an old man recounting his youth. He does not do that, however.

“It’s not something I have thought about much,” he says after a while. “I have to admit though, the idea of a home for UNDEAD is a nice one.”

The four of them, staying together. It’s something Koga has found himself thinking of before entering Yumenosaki (even if it was just about Sakuma-senpai at that time), before he waved it off as something unlikely to happen. It’s not something he expected Rei to want, however. Rei, who at some point he thought only put this unit of theirs together to please everyone. In a sense, UNDEAD was formed because it was a solution to everyone’s wishes at the time. Adonis needed a purpose; Kaoru needed something to pass time with, even if he didn’t think so then, and it wasn’t really Rei’s business. And Koga wanted a unit, despite his constant claims of being a lone wolf. He wanted to be with Sakuma Rei. So Rei only did what seemed natural - gathered all these scattered pieces and put them together. He always knew the best, after all. And they had fit together, even if it had taken a bit of time.

“I don’t think Hakaze-senpai would like to see our faces more than he already does now,” he says, half joking.

Rei laughs heartily, and it is a wonderful sound. “Perhaps. We could still be his annoying neighbours. That’s probably still on a level that he would find acceptable.”

That scenario is weirdly clear as he lets it play in his head, and he couldn't help but smile a little. “And Adonis would stay with him because he’s the favourite.”

Rei raises his eyebrows. “Is this your way of saying that you’d stay with me then?”

“You were the first to imply that!” Koga says immediately, maybe a little too loudly, and then immediately places a hand over his mouth and lowers his volume, conscious of the current time. “But you know what? Sure. Sure, I would.”

“You always get embarrassed so easily, Koga,” Rei says, something like fondness crinkling in his eyes. “I remember you once said that you wanted to stay with me forever, when you were a first year. You were such a cute and honest boy then.”

He pointedly ignores the last statement. “Well, we are chasing after the same goals, so I’d say that’s still true.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” he says, voice small and averting his eyes, trying to search for something else he could talk about because he’s not talking about such things with Sakuma-senpai now lest he end up spilling certain thoughts that lie deep within his mind at this moment, which wouldn’t be unacceptable or terrible or whatever - just the two of them, under the moonlight - but he would much prefer doing so somewhere that’s not his vegetable garden before dayspring. “There’s a full moon tonight, huh. I didn’t realise.”

His Sakuma-senpai very kindly does not point out how terrible that change in topic was executed. “I didn’t realise either.”

“Speaking of, that glasses basta—” A cough, “— Hasumi-senpai , he said something once. Something about trying to catch up to you would be like the moon trying to catch up to the sun.”

Rei hums. “So an impossible feat , huh? That guy and his metaphors, honestly. I guess he really was going through something back then. He didn’t need to become someone like me or anyone though.” 

Koga does not say anything to that. He reaches out and plucks a weed from the garden, resisting the urge to call Hasumi-senpai a moron, to say I would, though, I never cared about such things or whatever he said then, I said I would stay and I did . He does not say any of that. They both already knew that for a very long time.

“If I were to say, however,” Rei continues on, a small smile on his lips, “between us, you would be the sun, and I would be the moon.”

“I guess the moon does fit with your vampire image,” he muses, thinking of magazines with the special Feature Live outfits, what is your idol like up close and personal? sections and pictures of them in casual clothes, living their daily life. Sakuma Rei bathed in moonlight, smiling majestically. (After his own section was published, Anzu showed him the pictures, pointed out to him how similar he was to Rei. The way you carry yourself, she had said, and your smile. Perhaps he is rubbing off on you. And then he had said how would that even work? in response, but couldn’t help the spark of elation in his heart.) And now, Rei is sitting by his vegetable garden in a thin jacket over a long sleeved shirt he usually wears to sleep, chuckling at his words.

“That too, but that’s not entirely it.”

“Then what is it?”

Rei presses a finger to his lips. “Not telling.”

After that he gets to his feet, which makes Koga think for a moment that he’s just going to make his escape after leaving him with a whole load of questions (a common occurrence, really), but then he just goes to the open space near the benches and lies down on the grass. Honestly, he doesn’t even mind that Rei doesn’t want to tell him the reason, since he’s fairly sure that it will turn out to be some sappy shit or another one of Rei’s odd analogies that Koga won’t understand anyway.

“What are you doing?” Koga sighs, following after him. He stands there for a few seconds before deciding to just plop down next to Rei. The grass is somewhat itchy and uncomfortable to sit on directly, so he shifts around a little in his spot, wondering if Rei doesn’t have a problem with this due to his extra layer of clothes, or he’s just good at ignoring the terrible, terrible feeling (unlikely, considering the way he is sprawled out on the grass). Either way, he’ll have to bring a picnic blanket along next time, he decides. 

“If you wanna sleep, go back to your room.” He pokes Rei in the side of his head with a finger. His hair is soft. 

“No.” Rei shuts his eyes. So he has switched the usual old man persona for the lesser seen bratty child one (which he himself dubs as ‘Rei-chan’, according to Kaoru, the words said in the most annoying, sugary sweet voice he could muster). 

“I’m not helping carry you back after this,” Koga says, looking upwards at the sky.

“I’ll call Adonis-kun and have him lend me his strong, reliable arms.”

“You don’t even have your phone with you,” Koga points out, wrapping his arms around his knees.

Rei makes a noise that sounds like a mix between mild annoyance and agreement.

“That’s true. Well, too bad then.” He turns on his side, his back facing Koga, who’s just kind of amused at this point. Koga turns to lie down as well, but then gets the terrible feeling of grass against his arm and back, and then immediately springs back up. A small chuckle goes off from next to him.

He nudges his arm lightly. “Sakuma-senpai.” 

“I’m already asleep,” comes his reply.

“Let’s go. I’m not letting you catch a cold on me here. We can go sit in the common area or something. And then we can go over our new songs or pull up some concert or show to watch.”

“’s nothing to worry about. I don’t get sick that easily.”

He huffs. “Sure you don’t.”

Rei rolls back on his back. “Help me get up.”

“No,” Koga replies, but goes to pull on his outstretched hand anyway after standing up, ignoring the huge grin on Rei's face as he does so. After Rei manages to get up, Koga starts heading back towards the direction of the dorms, but Rei does not let go of his hand, which… okay, sure, whatever. He doesn’t mind. 

He does, however, comment on how cold Rei’s hand is, to which Rei jokes that’s why I have you here to keep me warm. He rolls his eyes and says okay. They continue walking.

“Koga.”

“Hmm?” Koga says, voice soft.

“—Koooga.”

He contemplates his life choices before going, “What is it?”

“You’re like the sun. And I am able to shine again thanks to your light.”

He pauses his step, turns to look at Rei.

“...Is this about what you were going to say earlier?”

“Yeah.”

He considers, goes over a few possible responses. The tone Rei used to say all of that sounded casual but sincere enough, so he’s not getting teased if he gives a proper answer. Probably. But then, he finds that he doesn’t really care if he ends up getting teased anyway, because how could he, in such a moment? 

“I’m glad,” he says in the end, because he is; he is never not glad to be here next to Sakuma Rei. He squeezes Rei’s hand. “That’s all I wanted.”

Rei beams. “I will be counting on you in the future as well, Koga.”

The future . After all of the things that happened the past few years, Koga feels like he could say with certainty that he looked forward to the future, graduating high school, celebrating anniversaries with UNDEAD, whatever there is to come. 

“The same goes for me, Sakuma-senpai.”

[memento-morianon]

random excerpt

this is from book 2's rough draft, (because i cannot write in a linear fashion) taking place when Morianon and Evarin are on their 5th wedding anniversary vacation to connect with his people and learn more about their culture. Their host is named Zarek, and his oldest son Tezo has voluntarily become their guide for a lot of things. He's very excited to be their friend and help them experience the quetzalin culture! He's also happy to have a reason to practice the "common" international language more, since he's trying to follow his father's footsteps and study linguistics, to become a translator or maybe just to travel outside the rainforest.

excerpt will be partly under a cut because it's long. there is casual nudity but it's not described in detail and the content remains PG aside from that.

Morianon stirred and squinted at the knocking sound that woke him up. Evarin snuggled deeper into his feathers, hiding her face from the early morning light. 

"Sorry to wake you!" Tezo chirped behind the door, "you said you'd like to join a traditional preening, and now is a perfect time." 

"We'll be out in a moment," Morianon called back to him, gently shaking Evarin awake. 

"Early birds," she grumbled, crinkling her snout and rubbing her eyes. Morianon was already on his feet, ruffling his feathers.

"If you're that sleepy, you can take a nap later," he said. Evarin waved a hand dismissively as she got up. 

Once clothed, they joined Tezo outside the guest house. He smiled at them, bouncing on his toes and lightly flicking his tail. 

"I am so happy to show you our traditions," he said, "my friends do not speak other languages, but they know International Sign, so you will not be left out." 

"Thank you," Morianon sighed in relief, "someday, I hope I can hold a full conversation in Quetzalin, but-" 

"We'll get there," Evarin assured him, taking his hand. Tezo nodded enthusiastically, gesturing for them to follow him. 

"You already pronounce our words very good," he said "you will come back again and get better." 

“Of course,” Evarin replied, “every year, at least once a year. If all goes well, we’ll have a hatchling next time we visit.” She squeezed Morianon’s hand and grinned. He wrapped his wing around her, holding her close.

“I am working on it,” Tezo laughed. He guided them over the bridges between trees, past quiet groups of other Quetzalin starting their own morning routines. Morianon looked up and watched a few people leap from their balconies, spreading their wings to fly across the enormous clearing below. A few small flocks of young dancers were already out, twirling in the air, heckling and encouraging each other at the same time. 

“Maybe we should invite some family down here too,” he mused, “just so they can see it.” While he watched the dancers, Tezo skipped ahead with his wings fluttering, calling out to several quetzalin entering a building. They all turned and grinned, calling back and waiting for him.

"Oh those must be his friends," Evarin said, pulling Morianon forward. Tezo waved his friends closer and spoke to them in Quetzalin while gesturing and signing at Morianon and Evarin. 

"These are my family's guests," he signed, "they are learning our language and customs. Be kind and patient." He pointed at both of them in turn; "Norianon and Etharin," he said. Then he pointed at each of his friends; "Lir, Tika, Rou, Otin, Ezi,"and each of them smiled and nodded. Morianon took note of their plumage, focusing on their main colors. Dark blue, red, pale gray, mottled brown, and yellow. 

"We are glad to meet you," Evarin signed, hoping her hand shape was not too foreign to them. But they returned her gesture in kind and she relaxed. 

"Come then, inside," Tezo herded the little flock into the preening spa, letting Morianon and Evarin follow behind him. "We preen nude," he explained while his friends passed through a heavy curtain, "there are shelves for your clothing." 

"Ah, but we only just got dressed," Morianon laughed, holding the curtain aside as he followed Tezo. Evarin hesitated. 

"Tezo?" she called softly. 

"Yes?" he paused with his waist sash half undone. Evarin glanced down at herself, tugging her shirt hem. 

"My body is… very different from yours. Do you think your friends would be uncomfortable seeing me nude?" Tezo tilted his head and pondered for a moment. Morianon squeezed his wife's hand. 

"Ev, they all seem quite nice. I'm sure it's no different from the mud spas back home." 

"Back home, people already knew me," Evarin murmured, pressing her knees together. 

"No one will be uncomfortable with you," Tezo replied, but he smiled apologetically. "They may stare a little; it is rare for outsiders to join the preening." 

"Do what feels comfortable, Ev," Morianon reassured her, "I want you to be here with me." He pulled her forward gently and she followed. 

"I think I'll leave my underwear on this time," she said. 

"That is alright." Tezo removed his clothing and jewelry, tucking it next to his friends' things. "Preening is about comfort. Oh!" He turned with a look of embarrassment. "I forgot to explain preening rules." 

"Rules like no flirting in the spa?" Morianon grinned and untied his waist cloth. "We have that rule at the mud spas too." Evarin smiled, keeping her back to Tezo as she removed her clothes. 

"Yes," Tezo replied, "no being sexy. It is impolite. But, we also have rules about where you can preen another person." He put his hands on his chest. "Shoulders and wings, anyone can preen. Chest and lower, tail, and back, only partners can preen." He moved a hand to his feathered cheek. "Family and friends can preen face and head," he continued, "we use hands for everyone. Preening with your mouth is for loved ones, family or partners, or good good friends." 

"Thank you," Morianon nodded, "we'll be careful." 

Beyond the small curtained room, the others were lounging on benches and the sandy floor. A fountain of water bubbled up from the corner of the spa room, filling a shallow pool. The gray-feathered friend was already in the water, flicking their wings to splash it over their body. Everyone else had spread their wings out, gently laying them over each other’s laps and combing their fingers through the feathers. It reminded Evarin of a braiding circle, laughing with her friends as they all did each other’s hair. 

“It’s cozy in here,” she said, holding Morianon’s hand and keeping close under his wing. He nodded in reply, eyes darting to examine every detail of the space. He admired the feathery carvings on the rounded corners of the walls, painted in every color to represent the whole flock. 

“Norianon, join us,” Tezo waved his hands at the preening circle, getting his friends to scoot over and make room. Morianon followed and sat beside him, letting go of Evarin. She stepped back and sat on another bench nearby, watching as Tezo demonstrated proper preening technique. “Look here,” he said, gently lifting Morianon’s wing feathers, “you have not preened well on your own. It is better with friends; we reach more places.” He picked a few flakes of keratin out of Morianon’s wing, leftovers from his last molt. 

“My friends and family try,” Morianon sighed, shoulders tense. He could feel the dull threat of anxiety in his heartbeat, lingering at the edges of his mind as he allowed Tezo to touch his wings. 

“Watch me,” Tezo said, “this is how we preen. You can try with the others.” His fingers combed over the fibers of Morianon’s feathers, starting from the base and moving toward the tips. His sharp nails pulled the fibers together while also snagging any loose keratin flakes or dead skin and pulling them out. “Hold your fingers at an angle, like this. It works better.” Tezo nodded towards the yellow-feathered quetzalin on Morianon’s other side. “Try with Ezi. And practice speaking too, it is good for you to speak our language.” 

“Yeah,” Morianon nodded and turned towards Ezi. They smiled at him and stretched their wing over his lap. Cautiously, he ran his fingers through their feathers, listening to the quiet conversation all around him. The quetzalin language was chirpy and light, full of trills and clicks. He knew some of the words. Please and thank you, welcome, dancer, watcher, friend. Ezi spoke slow so he could keep up, signing with a free hand occasionally to cover the words he didn’t catch. Little by little, the conversations started to make sense. Gossip, mostly. He smiled. Petty mundane conversation about who was flirting with who, which dancers were catching the most attention in the popular courting circles. His anxiety faded, and he allowed Ezi to preen his feathers in turn. 

Just outside the group, Evarin was also trying to keep up with the conversation. She caught bits and pieces, understanding the tone of humor and sarcasm, noting the central topic of courting dances. The gray friend, Rou, if she remembered right, left the fountain and joined the group, feathers still dripping. 

Evarin smiled as she watched Morianon relax and laugh, stumbling over his words as he tried to speak the language. No one mocked him for it, gently correcting his pronunciation and suggesting words when he faltered. He didn’t turn to look at her, completely engulfed by joy as he became part of the flock. But the others around him did glance towards her now and again. Their eyes lingered on her belly, appearing confused. 

Looking down at herself, trying to figure out what they found so odd, she realized it must have been her belly button. So exposed, the apparent hole in her gut must have caught them off guard. Morianon didn’t have one, she knew. Just a little nub of a scar under his feathers, where she assumed the egg yolk had been connected to him as a fetus. Had he been born in an egg? She wasn’t actually sure, since he claimed his birth mother had been an elf. 

The stares made her nervous. She folded her arms around herself and leaned forward. Morianon was opening up, laughing, making friends. Evarin was alone. She couldn’t keep up with the language, she had no feathers to preen. She longed to sit with her husband, to let someone braid her hair. But Tezo had mentioned that the head was only for close friends and family, and she was a stranger here.

The red-feathered one, she couldn’t remember their name, kept glancing at her more frequently than the others. She caught their eyes and for a moment they stared at each other. They said something quietly to their friend with the dark blue feathers, and then stood and walked away from the group to sit beside Evarin. She straightened up in surprise.

“E-tha-rin?” they asked, waving their hand towards her. She nodded. “Tika,”they said with a grin, tapping their chest. 

“Ket’uh, Tika,” Evarin replied, hoping she had pronounced their “hello” correctly. Tika nodded, eyes bright. They reached their hand out again, curling their fingers slightly. Evarin followed their gaze to her own hand and reached out in reply, letting them touch her. They sat closer, pulling her arm to their lap and looking over it. The hair over her skin was dark and thick, and Tika seemed intrigued by it. They glanced towards her again, tilting their head. She nodded. They hesitantly ran their sharp nails through her arm hairs, combing them as if they were tiny feathers. 

Evarin’s heart felt warm, watching Tika preen her arm hair. They were silent, communicating with her through their eyes and their smile. Hands occupied, they couldn’t sign to her, but it didn’t matter. The room felt so much smaller, suddenly. The distance between Evarin and the preening circle had shrunk, though she hadn’t moved from her spot. Their conversation was louder in her ears, their laughter touched her a little deeper. Tika’s fingernails didn’t leave any marks on her skin, but she felt marked all the same. Like the scars of the stroi, or the braids of the dwarves, proving their place in a family or clan. Evarin had been claimed and given a place; part of the flock.

[universeofmuses]

//Sorry for posting this later than I said I would. I hope you still like the story :)

As Hayley's simulation worked through the night, poor Hayley fell asleep at the computer. Trent left shortly thereafter when he recounted his dream; as Dr. O was about to leave for work he stopped down in lab to see if Hayley was still there, seeing as she was still asleep he decided to let her sleep. Since this was the end of the grading period at Reefside high Dr. O could come back early and wake Hayley up if need be.

(Shortly after Dr. O leaves)

A door being closed is faintly heard followed by a car engine starting up. The sounds of Dr. O leaving for work made Hayley stir from her sleep, slowly Hayley became aware of her surroundings as she started to remember the events of last night. Hayley then looked up at the computer monitor "COMPLETE" read the screen, Hayley sat there for a few minuets reading the report from the simulation; slowly a look of absolute terror filled Hayley's usual confident eyes as she grew pale, as the worst case scenario that she had feared was to be played out by the end of the day.

(Reefside High)

As the shortened school day was winding down Dr. O asked Conner, Kira, Ethan, and Tent to stay after class for a little chat,

"Hey Dr. O what's up?" Ethan asked casually,

"Have you guys been having any weird dreams lately?" Dr. O half asked, as he already knew what their answer would be,

"Yeah," the four teens answered in unison,

"Why didn't you guys come to me sooner about this?" Dr. O questioned sounding a little hurt and disappointed,

"We didn't think too much about it." Kira answered for the group,

"Yeah we just thought is any other random dream." Conner interjected,

"You guys should know that in our 'line of work' no rock can go unturned." Dr. O lectured,

"Anyway, harmless or not Hayley ran some simulations and such last night, and I think she might have something to tell us." Dr. O announced, and with that the five rangers left the classroom.

(Mysterious island lair)

Zeltrax had been pacing back and forth anxiously in the main chamber, for the moment when his plan to steal Elsa's moment of triumph,

"Zeltrax, you're making me dizzy, make yourself useful and assist Elsa in anyway you can." Mesogog hissed in annoyance as he rose up from his throne,

"Yes my lord . . .my lord, when will Elsa's plan be executed?" Zeltrax asked trying to hide is excitement,

"Why should I have to answer to a lackey like you?" Mesogog hissed,

"My apologies my lord, I meant no disrespect; just curious when we will destroy the power rangers." Zeltrax explained,

"Shortly, Elsa needs only to return and then . . . the rangers will be gone forever." Mesogog answered,

"Now leave my sight at once, before I lose my temper." Mesogog hissed,

"As you wish my lord." Zeltrax said as he bowed and turned to leave.

(Kim's apartment)

Kim woke up this morning very confused as to what her dream could possibly mean, it strangely reminded her of a different dream she had when she was a teenager. After a few moments of pondering the meaning of the dream Kim shrugged her shoulders,

"Oh well, I'm sure it couldn't have been anything more than that wine I drank last night." Kim said to herself, she got up and went to her window and look out at what a beautiful was forming,

"God, I have to admit; Reefside is a beautiful city." Kim said as she stood there admiring the landscape of the city,

"I think I'll go out for a run." Kim said as she pulled herself away from the window to pull on some workout clothes, and with that Kim headed out the door to Reefside Park to enjoy what was a seemingly normal, beautiful day. Unaware that things were in motion that could not be stopped by any being alive or dead.

(Ranger command center)

"Huh? That's weird, I saw Hayley's car out front but; no Hayley." Trent observed, as the five rangers came down the staircase that lead to Dr. O's house,

"Yeah, it's not like her to just run off like that." Dr. O mused, when suddenly out of nowhere a hand grabbed Dr. O's shoulder and turned him around, it was Hayley,

"My god, you guys are alright. Which means that it hasn't happened yet, but I will soon." Hayley went on half mumbling to herself, acting very strangely,

"Hayley, calm down. What hasn't happened yet?" Dr. O said as he looked into Hayley's eyes but, the sharp, confident glare she always wore, was replaced by a dull, frightened stare,

"When some of you guys came to me with similar strange dreams I did some checking around and such, it reminded me about something I had heard about how sometimes a person can have dreams about a prevalent event that has not yet come to pass. Now if had been just Kira and Conner's dream then that would only mean that they were merely lost in time but Trent's dream reviled the final piece of the puzzle." Hayley explained simply,

All five rangers looked at each other with uneasy looks,

"The fact that in Trent's dream he was in the past too and then wondered around in oblivion means that at some point the fabric of space and time couldn't support the drastic changes and just tore itself to shreds and completely destroyed the universe." Hayley finished explaining while all five rangers looked at her with unnerved looks and mouths agape,

"Hayley wait, you also said that different events branch out into different universes, is it possible that you were looking into another universe?" Trent asked with a hopeful look on his face,

"Yes I did say that but at the same time some events converge and that is what is happening right now; the fore coming event is a major junction in flow of time. This is where the past, present, and the future meet." Hayley finished explaining as she had liberated any final hopes the five rangers had to avoid a major catastrophe.

After a tense moment of silence, alarms blared down in the command center as it signaled another attack, the sudden sound made all six members of the team nearly jump out of their skin; it was Elsa causing havoc at the Reefside park,

"Guys we're out of time, we can't be worrying about something we can't change, even if we wanted to. People need us now, come on lets get going." Conner said trying to rally his team past the impending doom that faced them and fight with courage. Dr. O couldn't help but feel proud that he had molded this young man into quite the leader, for someone who didn't want the responsibility that was trusted upon him; he was acting like a true red ranger. Yet right now for some reason Dr. O couldn't help but feel like Conner reminded him of himself at that age, when facing pretty much absolute destruction,

"Ready?" asked Conner as the other three rangers formed up behind him,

"Ready!" the other three replied,

"DINO THUNDER POWER UP, HA!" the three rangers called out,

"White ranger dino power up" Trent called out.

[fardell24b]

Spider Quinn 12 Rise of the Green Goblin - Part 3

While Quinn was looking at the Schloss Morgendorffer architectural blueprints, Norman Osborn was looking at the engineering blueprints for the prototype glider. It was perfect for his needs.

Lawndale Sun-Herald

Sunday 28 January 2001

Historia Opening is a Great Success

SpiderGirl emerged from the house in the early hours after about four hours of sleep. She did what usually did, sat on the roof, closed her eyes and listened to Lawndale. ‘Of course, I realise that I’m mostly listening to the part of town on the west side of the Creek,’ she thought as she did so. ‘Anything in Lawndale Flats would have to be particularly loud.’ She paused, opened her eyes and walked to the edge of the roof and looked in that direction. The downtown area hid that neighborhood from view.

She went back to her previous position and closed her eyes again and listened.

Half an hour later, she heard a cry for help a few streets to north. Opening her eyes, she swung into action.

Quinn arrived at the Historia, ready to start her first shift, at 11:00. She had spent most of the morning either on patrol, copying the blueprints or designing the mask. She saw Stacy there, ready to start. “Stacy!”

“Hi, Quinn!” Stacy said enthusiastically. “I’m ready for my first day.”

“That’s great!”

Sandi was at home, in the backyard, which still bore the scars of her frustrated use of her powers following the Fashion Club’s dissolution. She was wondering whether she could use her powers in a way that would be helpful. ‘But I’m not like SpiderGirl,’ she thought again. She was tempted to try to find SpiderGirl’s secret identity using an aspect of her powers, but her mother had warned her against that when she had broached the subject the night before.

“Sandi, I told you before if you try to locate someone not in Lawndale, you’ll get knocked out by the sensory overload of perceiving all of Lawndale at once.”

“But SpiderGirl is in Lawndale.”

“If she’s her secret identity at the time, you may not locate her.”

“So, I risk getting knocked out if I try to find a random girl in Lawndale?”

“I would not suggest going through the yearbook and trying to locate every girl. That would be exhausting.”

Sandi blinked and brought her mind back to the present. ‘Of course, I would need a disguise,’ she thought. With that, she went back to her room to see if she had anything that could hide her identity.

Anna Coultard entered the Historia. She wanted to see if the bookshop had books on Welsh folkflore. Quinn came over to her. “Would you like something, Anna?” she asked.

“I’m just browsing for now,” Anna answered. “Seeing if there are books on what I’m looking for?”

“What the High School library doesn’t have?”

“Exactly.”

“Let me know if you find anything,” Quinn said playfully, “either today or tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Anna said.

“What about Ben?”

“He might visit here at some point, after the fuss has died down.”

“When there aren’t that many people,” Quinn surmised.

“Exactly,” Anna said.

Meanwhile, Brittany was at home musing on changes to the Ninja Talon suit. She was still wondering how to use flames in a way that wasn’t dangerous. ‘How did the Shadow come up with those paint bombs anyway?’ she wasn’t sure. She continued to design the changes.

After her shift at the Historia ended, SpiderGirl headed to Cedars of Lawndale.

Sarah Robyn saw the superheroine enter her room. You’re here! She wrote.

“Sorry, I was carried away designing a new mask this morning,” SpiderGirl said. “Also thinking of ways to modify my house without the rest of the family noticing.”

Why?

“So, I can have a secret place for my superhero stuff. It will help me keep my secret identity better.”

OK.

“Then I was at work.”

SpiderGirl spent another hour there before heading out to patrol.

Later that night, Quinn looked at her copy of the house blueprints in her room. She noticed something that could be useful. ‘A laundry chute down from my closet to the basement?’ she realised. She hadn’t noticed anything in her closet that could indicate that, but then she didn’t really look at it other than to sort her ever growing wardrobe. She went over and started putting most of her clothes onto her bed.

She looked at the floor of the closet. She saw that it was a couple of boards of wood. ‘But is there anywhere to lift it if it’s not nailed down?’ she wondered. She looked at the one on the right and saw that there was an indent near the corner. She webbed the board near the indent and pulled. It came up and she grabbed her flashlight and looked down. She saw the disused laundry chute. ‘It’s fairly large,’ she thought. Perfect for storing the SpiderGirl suits and useful as a quick way to leave the room unseen.

‘But I have to look at the other end before I decide anything further.’

Back down in the basement, Quinn found that the other end had a large counterweighted hatch. She pushed it open and saw the light coming down from her room two stories above. ‘Good!’ she thought. ‘I can use it.’ She went back up to her room thinking of ways to use the chute.

‘Some kind of pully system to store the suit and to lower myself down the chute,’ Quinn wrote on a piece of paper. ‘And an inconspicuous locking mechanism for the closet floor and the hatch, that would allow both of them to be opened and closed from either end.’ That was a start. She looked at the time. ‘Time for a patrol,’ she thought as she put the copy of the blueprints and the notes away. But first she put the board in the closet back where it was and put her clothes back.

Lawndale Sun-Herald

Monday January 29, 2001

SpiderGirl seen in Lawndale Flats

The talk of most of the students as the school day began was of the opening of the Historia. Quinn found herself congratulated more for her win at the Spelling Bee. But only a few students saw Norman Osborn park instead of merely dropping off Harry. Hardly anyone saw him make a beeline for Ms. Li’s office.

“Good Morning Mr. Osborn,” Ms. Li said. “What can I do for you?”

“The question is, what can I do for Lawndale High in exchange for something.”

“It would depend on what that something is, wouldn’t it?”

“Access to your surveillance system. Specifically, your CCTV cameras,” Osborn answered.

“Out of the question!” the Principal said.

“I am aware that SpiderGirl has been sighted on school grounds from time to time.”

“So, you want to find her secret identity?”

“Yes,” Osborn answered.

Angela reconsidered. “I too want to know which of my students is that vigilante.”

“Good,” Osborn said. “What can I do for Lawndale High? I have looked into the records. You have outlaid vast sums on security improvements. However, early last year, the Library roof fell in due to lack of maintenance. Then there was a hastily planned medieval fair to raise funds for repairs.”

“So, improvements to the buildings. I can work with that,” Li considered.

“And my company can also improve your security systems, making it more likely that SpiderGirl, and possibly Ninja Talon and the Shadow, get caught.

“I doubt the latter two are students here, Mr. Osborn.”

“But they might be. If it comes out, think of the reputational damage,” Osborn said.

‘He can’t blackmail me!’ Angela thought. “I will handle whatever issues come up, Mr. Osborn. Lawndale High will survive any scandal.”

“So, your answer is no?”

“My answer is ‘Maybe.’ I have to think about it. I’ll get back to you later in the week,” she sat down. “Good Day, Mr. Osborn.”

Osborn left Lawndale High and headed towards City Hall to get the Mayor’s answer.

In the meantime, the principal tried to get the conversation out of her mind as she tried to focus on her paperwork.

“Mr. Osborn to see you sir,” the secretary said.

“Send him in,” Mayor Lawson said in a resigned tone.

“Good Morning, Mr. Lawson,” Osborn said as the door closed behind him.

“Morning, Osborn,” Lawson said in a tired tone.

“I’ll get straight to the point. What is your answer?”

“Yes. I will provide access to Lawndale’s CCTV network, but not right away. I’ll have to negotiate with the Council first. They might vote against it.”

“Are you trying to stall me?”

“Maybe. But I still need to inform the Council that I have been approached in some manner. I won’t say who.”

“And how soon will you call this vote?” Osborn asked.

“Tomorrow. I’ll let you know as soon as I know the answer.”

“Then I’ll be back tomorrow!”

Quinn met Anna, Ben and Gerald in the library after school. “So, you found a Welsh folklore book at the Historia?” Quinn asked.

“Yes,” Anna answered. “I haven’t bought it here, but it’s great!”

“That’s good. Maybe we could see those standing stones you mentioned,” Quinn suggested.

“Remember what Ms. Li said,” Gerald said.

“That any field trip has to be outside school hours,” Quinn responded. “I remember.”

“So, how far are these standing stones anyway?” Ben asked.

“Not far, only a third of the way to Oakwood,” Anna answered.

“I see where this is going,” Gerald said.

“Not right away,” Quinn said.

“But soon, within the next couple of weeks?” Gerald asked.

“Yes, but we could do it around sunset. Think of how bright the stars would be outside Lawndale,” Quinn said.

“There would still be the light pollution,” Gerald said.

“Probably,” Quinn considered.

“Sunset at the standing stones would be great!” Anna said with wonder in her eyes.

“Why am I getting the feeling that something is going to happen there too,” Gerald murmured. “Maybe we could wait until the equinox.”

“But that is two months away,” Quinn objected.

“Fine!” Gerald said.

“Thanks, Quinn,” Anna said.

They then continued their session, with Quinn reading from her design book first.

After the mentoring session, Quinn changed to SpiderGirl on the school roof and headed downtown. It wasn’t long before she reached her destination.

As her usual self, albeit with oversized sunglasses, Quinn entered the hardware store. She had to see what was available before she started designing the locking mechanisms for the chute. ‘It’s not like I can just intuit it, right?’ she pondered as she looked around at the large selection of merchandise. It was both like, and unlike, any other shopping experience in her life.

She looked around taking note of various tools, and other items, before realising that she need to do more research to find what she needed, so she grabbed a brochure and approached one of the staff members.

“How may I help you?”

“I’m looking at some locking mechanisms for a school project,” Quinn answered.

“What kind of locking mechanisms?”

“Something complex, possibly involving electronics with a manual backup.”

“I’ll see what we have.”

“Sure.”

The salesman soon came back. “We have many different locks, including pinpads.”

“Also, I would like some tools, mostly screwdrivers and hammers.”

“Sounds like you’d need a drill set too.”

“Then I’ll take two,” Quinn said.

“That will be expensive.”

“Then I’ll just have one,” Quinn decided. She could come back for another one later. She didn’t want her mother to be questioning her about unusual purchases on the credit card if she could help it.

Quinn headed home from the hardware store and placed the tools beneath the table where the blueprints were still laid out. She looked at the blueprints again. She knew where to start, but there were other ways she could use the house for her superheroic purposes. She looked at the attic. Could she create a discrete opening from her closet into the attic? She knew that the attic windows opened, especially the ones facing into the back yard. ‘But there is another way,’ she considered. There were stairs up from the basement to a hatch in the back yard also.

‘Two ways,’ she thought. It would be best to have two routes rather than just one in case she needed to leave in a hurry. She decided to have a look in the attic.

Quinn looked around the attic. There was a lot of stuff stored up there, including a lot of her father’s belongings that they hadn’t given away. The grief intensified as she looked around. ‘With great power comes great responsibility,’ she thought. She located the spot above her closet and saw that the floor was a simple masonite slab. ‘It should be relatively simple to modify.’

However, she then heard Daria calling for her downstairs.

“Why were you in the attic?” Daria asked as Quinn pushed the stairs into their closed position.

“Just looking for something,” Quinn answered.

“OK,” Daria said.

“Anything else?”

“I was just curious,” Daria answered.

“OK. Wait…”

“What?”

“I’ve just noticed, your hair is growing,” Quinn said.

Daria grabbed some strands of her hair, where it reached where it hadn’t reached before. “Well, I haven’t been to a salon since before Dad died.”

“Whereas I’ve been twice.”

“I haven’t thought about it, but I guess I’m growing it out now.”

“It looks good on you, Daria.”

“That wouldn’t be the reason.”

“Of course not.”

Quinn went into her room. ‘I have to be more careful,’ she thought as she closed the door. ‘As far as Daria growing her hair goes, I meant what I said’.

She went over to the closet and looked at the ceiling as she pushed clothes aside. ‘Looks like a false ceiling.’ It would probably be easier to make the modifications than she thought. ‘But I’ll start with the chute first.’ She went over to her desk and looked at the copy of the blueprints again.

But then there was a knock and Quinn hastily pushed the page aside. “Come in,” she said.

Daria came in with a thoughtful expression on her face. “I’m thinking on what we just talked about.”

“Your hair?”

“Yes. I’m not sure I want to go to a salon, but I also know there would be split ends.”

“I can help you with that,” Quinn said.

“You can?” Daria asked in surprise.

“Yes, I have experience, helping those who had a terrible cut, or didn’t want to wait. Both here and in Texas.”

“Oh,” Daria said. “Let’s do it then.”

[belovecore]

Omg omg about the Blurr waking up anxious thing

Dude,,Imagine the two of you waking up around the same time, and if either of you is feeling bad or nervous about the day, you spend the whole morning curled up in each others arms. Think of the sort of sweet things he’d whisper in your ear to comfort you, or maybe he’d put your favourite show on and go make you breakfast in bed-

Just food for thought. Comfort f/os!

- 🌙 Anon

🥺🥺🥺blurr,,,

why must you come into my inbox and make me cry?? /pos

i wake up anxious a lot since my first incentive is to check my phone for any notifications, not the best idea but its so ingrained in me so i do that and if theres an unread message i get really nervous, doesn't matter what it is or from who but gosh- socialization is just always like that so i'm just already awake from pure adrenaline

blurr is just always going and usually wakes up earlier than me, but he'll hover until i'm up unless i wake up so early just because of my constant sleep disturbances

i just wanna be snuggled by him and hear him prattle on about how things are fleeting before he flips to just a tangent on random stuff and honestly that's just a relief to hear him and distract from a thing i'm worrying over that isn't so nice but i shouldn't worry about since i'm getting ahead of myself

blurr likes to watch my little pony with me since it's a comfort show and he adds a bunch of commentary while we watch, he also likes to play muse dash with me cause it's reaction time based

and yeah he's real quick at making food, so it's nice to get a big stack of pancakes when you first wake up cause i really like pancakes, also a comfort food

i love blurr a lot, he's so nice and understands me better than anyone else could when you happen to be someone whose processing speed hinders their life sometimes

thanks so much for the ask, sorry this is all rambling but i'm so sleepy comfortable from answering this, thank you

[forsworned]

⃘ ֹ ִ 🎧 ֹ ִ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 ֹ ★ ִ ꒱

ㅤㅤ

♡ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. HIII I TOLD YALL ID B POSTING SOON EJKEMDKRND sorry it took me so long life has been v v v cruel to me but here is to my gyomei lovers

♡ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. smexy situations ahead, edging, m*sturb*ting, sub! gyomei x f. dom! reader

♡ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 hubby gyomei comes back from a long trip and he is begging for some release heheheh

Early mornings in May were slightly brisk and always nipping at your naked skin as you slid off your kimono to enter the waters. You hummed to yourself as you tread over to the man that was nearly just as tall as the waterfall that he was sitting under massaging his sore muscles from the mission he was on. Only the upper part of his toned body was exposed and his tanned skin glistened in the sunlight. 

His eyes were closed as you approached him and a small smile etched at his handsome lips.

“Good morning. I missed you, yome.” He murmured.

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you pressed your body flush against his sturdy chest and his hand reclaimed the small of your back pulling you closer to him. 

“I missed you too, dannasan.” You mused at him in a sing songy voice. 

His cheeks warmed at the added cuteness of the nickname you had already given him. His touch felt electrifying against your naked skin and your felt his warm breath against your forehead before he pressed a chaste kiss to it. 

“That’s all you’re going to give to your sweet yome.” You teased as you pushed your chest against his. 

His blush spread to the tips of his ears as he hid his face in the crook of your neck causing you to giggle. 

“Don’t I deserve a little more?” Your fingers danced along his spine as they slowly disappeared under the water. 

“[name]!” He jolted slightly at your touch but it was soon accompanied by a moan. 

“You left me for so long, Gyo.” You pouted as your hand teased at his tip. 

And he really had. It had been two weeks since the last time you had seen him. He had, however, gotten some random villager to help write letters to send out to you. 

Unfortunately, it was nothing explicit, but it was still enough to make said villager blush as they wrote down his thoughtful and compassionate words. 

“Forgive me…” He breathed out, but you weren’t letting up as you picked up your pace. Your free hand had cupped his cheek and raised his head so that you could take in every pleasured expression. 

You bit your lip at your hunky husband who was putty in your hands as you pumped away at his hard member that was now fully erect.

“Forgive you?” You paused your ministries for a  moment and he pouted at you.

“Am I not worthy of forgiveness?” 

His lip quivered as he touched his forehead against yours and his member twitched in your hand. Something about Gyomei looking utterly submissive and downright resistless really turned you on. His puffy unkissed lips that jut out at you, his thick scrunched up brows, onyx black hair that was completely wet and the way his buff chest had rose and fell so deeply with every touch. Your touch.

“Only if you beg for it.” A wicked grin had made its way onto your lips and a small whimper has escaped his throat. 

“I’m sorry, [name].” He moaned out as you slowly started to pump him again, but not nearly enough to send him over the edge. 

“More.”

“I’m sorry, [name]. Please forgive me.” He groaned as he shifted uncomfortably as you squeezed the tip.

“And?” Your tone was pressing.

“Please let me cum.” He whimpered softly against your lips.

If there was one thing that satisfied you, it was your hunky husband begging you to make him cum. And even if someone were passing by, the rushing sound of the waterfall would muffle every moan. But this was your safe haven. You two had claimed it long ago, and it was rare whenever either of you were bothered. 

“As you wish.” You whispered as you pressed your lips against his capturing a moan while you stroked his dick at the pace he loved. It wasn’t too quick and it wasn’t too slow and oh how it made him weak in the knees when you squeezed it just right. 

“I’m going to…” His voice quivered and then melted into another moan as his body faltered against the rocks and his member and your hand surfaced. 

His member was hard and agitated, ready to release at any given moment. Precum had covered the tip almost immediately, but you felt a little merciful so you had continuing your strokes, indulging in every strained moan.

His large hand had grasped at your hip and the other on your ass as you were getting him closer and closer. The knot in his lower abdomen was slowly unraveling with every stroke until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“...cum.” He finished as he came in long, thick, white spurts that covered your hand. His body gave out as he completely laid back against the rock formation that the water had carved out that somehow perfectly fit his stature. His chest heaved as slowly collected himself from his climax. You giggled as climbed on top of him and kissed his lips. His hands instinctively find themselves around hips and he shyly smiled at you. Gyomei’s pretty rosy lips glistened from the sun’s rays. 

“Thank you, yome.” He breathed as he traced patterns on your thighs.

“No need to thank me.” You replied as your traced your fingers against his lips. “Soon these lips will be coated with my cum.”

As if his face couldn’t get any redder! You giggled at his flustered expression, but he was already tugging at your body to get you ready.

“Don’t you need a little break?” You laughed trying to grip at his biceps. 

He shook his head as he glanced up from his position adjusting you to get ready to sit on his face. A shit eating grin that resembled your own was now on his pretty lips. He eagerly licked them causing your pussy to throb.

“I don’t need a break. Not when I’m going to make you shiver at every touch."

[classickook]

steve "the hair" harrington's primary love language is touch. then we have acts of service. that's how he shows his affection.

still, he loves when those he cares for vocalize their appreciation for him (words of affirmation). i don't think his family did it enough for him and some "you are very handsome" "i love you"s and the ultimate "you'd be a great dad" wouldn't hurt, right?

do with this random thoughts what you will <33

this is so sweet 🥺 thank you for the request <3

warm sunshine filters through the slatted blinds and rouses you from sleep. with a yawn, you stretch out your limbs and rub your eyes as you look around the room.

the other side of the bed is empty, sheets neatly folded back into place as if nobody had been there in the first place, but the pillow definitely still smells like him. steve, surprisingly enough, is an early riser and usually starts his day before you. although, with it being the weekend, you aren’t sure why his sleeping frame is absent from your shared bed.

you grumble to yourself as you begin to climb out of bed to go look for him when the door clicks open and steve walks in with a tray in his hands.

his brown eyes shine honey gold in the morning sunlight when he finds you awake. “good morning,“ he coos softly. “how did my girl sleep?”

you bite your thumbnail to hide the enormous grin rising on your lips at his sweetness. “good, but i missed waking up next to you.”

he approaches the bed and lays the tray down in front of you. “sorry, pretty baby. the kids rushed over first thing this morning to play their new game and wanted to make breakfast beforehand, and i felt the need to supervise so you didn’t wake up to the house burning down,” he muses, smoothing down your hair a bit and kissing your forehead.

looking down at the tray, you see that he’s prepared pancakes with a small jar of warm maple syrup, a glass of orange juice, and a few strawberries that have been sliced to take on the appearance of a rose. the aromas circulate throughout your bedroom and it seems absolutely heavenly, like a dream or a scene from a movie.

“aren’t you sweet,” you say, pulling him down to press a kiss to his lips. “thank you, babe.”

he flashes you a saccharine smile before taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to you, cutting up your stack of pancakes into bite-sized pieces and passing the fork to you once he’s finished.

you pick up one of the strawberries and admire the makeshift petals sliced into the fruit. “these are too pretty to eat,” you tell him.

“so are you but you let me taste you last night.”

“steve!”

he flashes you a smug grin before biting into the strawberry in your hand.

you playfully swat at his chest but the two of you are laughing as you dig into the breakfast he put together for you.

his free hand stays resting on your knee over the covers, and the heat of his skin melts through the fabric until warmth spreads throughout your entire body from head to toe.

over the years of dating him, you noticed that steve always needed to be touching you in some way or another - whether that meant holding your hand or playing with your fingers, draping his arm around your shoulder or guiding you through crowds with a light touch to the small of your back, or even simply touching your knee like right now. he has a special air about him that makes you feel completely safe and comfortable no matter where you are, as long as you’re with him and especially when he’s touching you.

you place your utensils back on the tray, the movement causing steve to look up at you, concern creasing his brows. “i love you,” you say.

his face lights up like a little boy on christmas morning and it melts your heart. “i love you too, baby,” he says, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your mouth, tasting of strawberries and maple syrup.

“you’re so good with them,” you tell him, tilting your chin toward the door where you can hear the sound of silverware scraping across plates and the kids’ muffled chatter as they talk amongst themselves; it feels like the perfect saturday morning.

“yeah?” he asks.

you hum in agreement. “you’re going to make a wonderful dad someday, steve.”

“you really think so?” his expression is so open and vulnerable and practically begging for your approval that it makes your chest ache.

“without a shadow of a doubt,” you reply honestly, cupping his chin and making sure each word packs a punch so he can truly see just how special he is.

a rosy tint warms its way onto the apples of his cheeks and a wobbly smile stretches across his mouth, and that’s when you know that your statement has reached the part of him that needed to hear it - that he’s enough, that he’s just what you and the kids need: a lover, a friend, a mentor.

he places the empty tray onto the floor before climbing onto his side of the bed and guiding you over to lay beside him.

you kiss his knuckles as you snuggle up to his side. “i’m the luckiest girl in the world to have you as a boyfriend,” you say into his chest and he presses a kiss to your shoulder in kind while running his hand up and down your back in soothing, repetitive motions.

“thank you,” he whispers, and the two of you rest comfortably together until a crash sounds from the kitchen and you both go running to the kids.