#this was really fun and a nice little break

[eowynstwin]

i’m drooling at ur older bf price (not much else to say except when/if u ever have more thots abt him please share 🙏)

previous

You curl in on yourself after sex, sometimes. It’s a pattern Price has noticed—you’ll finish, then he will, and in the humid moments after, the shutters in your eyes will close. You won’t meet his gaze.

He’s only asked once about it, and it had been so clear that the question disturbed you that he hadn’t pressed. You’d tell him, he reasoned, when you were ready—

(And he could nudge you in that direction in the meanwhile.)

The sink is put back together, cabinet door closed. Your sundress is wrapped and twisted around your midsection, naked breasts wet with his saliva and compressed against his chest as you lay panting on top of him. His shirt is in some far-off corner, thrown aside, and his jeans are around his knees.

“That was nice,” he murmurs in your ear, kissing your hair. He makes a home for his fingertips between your shoulder blades, walking the trail of your spine, up and down, slow as a tide.

“Mm-hm,” you say, out at sea. Far away.

He can’t deny that it disappoints him. But it isn’t about him, and he shouldn’t make it so. Even if it is about him, it isn’t actually about him—it’s about something else that has attached itself to him. Things are like that more often than not—deeper, older problems with hooks, the barbed kind that sink in and cling and won’t come out of their own accord.

So he keeps kissing your hair, and he keeps stroking your back. His softened cock hasn’t slipped from you yet, and he makes no move to dislodge it. You nestle closer to him; shift your body over his, a little, just for the feeling of it. He waits for the sigh—the long, steady breath you take after the act, after you’ve found yourself again in wherever it is you go after moments like this.

“This is probably weird to talk about after sex,” you say, and Price’s ears perk up.

“Nothing weird between us, dove,” he encourages. “What’s on your mind?”

You play with his chest hair a little, twirling it around with the manicured ends of your nails. (A manicure he happily paid for.)

“You’re the first man who’s ever given a damn about me,” you mumble into his neck.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says honestly. He kisses you again, because he wants to, and because he wants it to comfort you.

“You don’t make me feel stupid for not being able to do stuff on my own,” you continue. “My step—my mom’s husband. He used to make fun of me for, for getting confused about changing my car’s oil. Or he’d get annoyed at me. Or I’d need him to change my tires because I can’t do it on my own, and I’d call him for help, and he wouldn’t pick up the phone.”

“He sounds like a piece of work,” Price comments.

A younger version of himself would have offered to beat the shit out of the asshole. That self’s anger on your behalf sits radioactive in his chest even now—corrosive, roiling, righteous fury, ready to carve your name on whatever offal is left over after Price gets through with him.

But that would be for his own ego, not for you. That has no place here.

“Do you know—” and your voice breaks a little, “do you know how bad it feels when a man who’s supposed to look out for you treats you like you’re an idiot? Like you’re not smart enough to be worth helping?”

“Some,” he says. “It’s an awful feeling. I wish you didn’t know how it felt, dove. I’m sorry.”

He feels something warm and wet drip onto his chest, and your shoulders begin to shake.

It’s not the full-body, wracking cry of catharsis. Just an episode of something longer, something tired. A problem dealt with, over and over again—a wound that reopens sometimes, if it’s pulled the wrong way.

Price gathers you closer, wraps his arms around you tighter. He cups the back of your neck with one hand and murmurs “shhh” into your hair, soothing and quiet, squeezing you against him.

“I’m okay,” you say, a little watery. “Really, I am.”

“I know you are,” he says.

He tilts your face toward his, and kisses the center of your forehead. You meet his eyes with your own, wide and glistening with your tears.

“I’m always gonna help you, dove,” he promises, catching one that falls with the edge of his thumb. “And you can always ask.”

-

No I don’t have daddy issues why do you ask

[theverycoolfish]

Marvelous

First of all we celebrate on Christmas Eve but let’s start with advent: okay for the 4 last sundays before Christmas Eve (if Christmas Eve is a Sunday that counts) we light a candle. Like first Sunday until 2nd 1 candle 2nd until 3rd 2 candle and so on.

We also hang up stars in our windows

Like that one

Next exciting thing is Lucia. It’s on 13th December. Everyone dress up in white nightgowns (the design of them is at OLD no one have worn them for something else than Lucia for ages) (fuck gender roles put the boys/men in dresses) (I wish it said fuck gender roles more but after this it’s decided by gender :/) (but people are starting to break the roles a little and throwing in alternatives so yay but if I start going into the alternatives I will find myself writing a long text about folklore) okay traditionally it looks like this (I found the pictures on Pinterest):

Sadly the woman with the candle-crown ”should” according to some be white and have blonde hair but the times are changing and now it’s more variety :) well I was in one of those and we had 4 different candle crown people. Neither were blonde. They were all perfect.

We sing songs (or well the dressed up people do and the rest listen and watches) its kind of nice kind of wtf are we doing which IS FUN. All that to celebrate some Italian saint and we haven’t even been catholic since 1523 (or well that’s the year the guy who changed that became king) (he needed the church’s money) (okay now I nearly started rambling about history too)

On Christmas Eve there is two movies you have to watch. One is called Donald Duck but it’s actually it’s a lot of clips from old Disney movies/short movies and it’s presented as if they wish everyone a merry Christmas and tell everyone a wholesome/fun story. (It includes but is not limited to Lady &Lufsen dining, Donald Duck trying to photograph a bird, Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck and Goofy camping, the mice sewing cinderella’s dress, Robin Hood stealing Prince John’s money, Santa Claus and elves fixing toys and stuff for the kids [you REALLY should have a paint like that])

According to Wikipedia it’s been streamed on live television since 1960 and at been on top 4 most streamed programs EVERY year since at least 1994 (no data before that year)

It probably costs a fortune because it’s fucking Disney but we’re a lot of people who really likes it and we all divide the day in before Donald (it hurts to not say Kalle which is his Swedish name) and after.

Ofc we have Karl Bertil Jonsson too which I rambled about in the tags that is now screenshotted in the previous reblog.

If there is at least one kid in the family: sometime in the evening dad or grandfather or uncle or someone (usually male person) has to go outside to ”buy the newspaper” or ”buy some milk” soon thereafter Santa knocks on the door. Comes in, speaks a little with everyone, maybe eats something and gives presents. Then he leaves. Soon after that dad returns home. The store was sold out on newspapers/milk/literally anything.

It’s not a complete list but I need to rewatch Karl Bertil Jonsson. The animated version ofc not the live action. Nothing against the live action it’s just not a classic

my only advice is to BE CAREFUL posting about holiday traditions around europeans. you'll post something casual like "anyone else watch the old Grinch movie every year? what a classic" and a european will appear as if summoned and say some shit like "funny how USAmericans always CONVENIENTLY forget that Not Everyone On Earth is from The USA…….. no of COURSE we dont watch 'the grunch' or whatever the fuck that is…. our tradition is to attend a community showing of Glummdorf the Racial Stereotype"

[enchantress-arc]

I recently learned that a particular sub of mine still had some conditioning from a while back that hadn't been used in quite a while, specifically that she had a bit of a tendency to become incredibly dazed and begin dropping into trance when presented with a cock (though, talking to her afterwards, she doesn't think that this conditioning would activate for most people). I learned this through a tiny bit of teasing on a call, when she saw my wonderful Bitchbreaker through the shorts I was wearing, her eyes rolled back and her tongue came out. Learning that on its own was very interesting. More interesting was just how effective this conditioning was, just how deeply she dropped from such a small tease, from only seeing it through my clothing. Naturally, seeing the effect that already existing conditioning had on her was quite a "blood in the water" moment for me, and, with her permission, I continued. After teasing her a bit more by showing off, it became incredibly clear that she was very, very suggestible in this state. I took my fingers, made a circle, and told her that however far down those fingers were on my girlcock, that's exactly how much she'd feel thrusting into her mouth. With her eyes rolling back and her tongue out, she took that cock like a wonderful, adorable little slut, so much passion and energy pouring into this imaginary girlcock fucking her face over and over and over. When it leaked and I told her to lap it up, she did, she was so empty, so mindless, so focused on serving this perfect Bitchbreaker, and I decided to have a bit of fun, to break my pathetic bitch a little more. I made her choke on it, put the whole thing down her throat as roughly as I could over and over, watched her drop even deeper with every single thrust, and reinforced this particular little piece of conditioning, just a bit, making it stronger, making it apply to my tits as well, making it easier to activate, even if she just saw me playing with either through my clothes she'd begin to feel the effects. Watching her empty little head take all of that new conditioning in with so little resistance as she kept mindlessly serving was absolutely wonderful. And of course, I couldn't just leave things there. I had her listen to me. I told her that, if she did a good job, if I finished in her mouth, she'd simply fall asleep. She'll get a nice little taste of Mistress, of her sweet, irresistible girlcum, and then she'll sleep for me. And she did such a good job, following along, listening, and when I finished, I simply told her to sleep for me. Her tongue twitched, lapping it up just as she had done earlier, and she collapsed onto her bed. I ended up staying in this call with her for a bit after that, just staying nearby, whispering little affirmations, until I was sure she was properly asleep rather than just in trance. Afterwards I left the call, left her a message telling her I hope she had enjoyed herself, and about an hour and a half later, I received a message from her saying that she had woken up covered in drool, and that her memory of what had happened was fuzzy at best, (which is rather interesting because I had never given her any commands related to memory during this, but regardless, it was incredibly cute). I'll admit I haven't done sessions that intense, that explicitly sexual (and especially focused on my own body) very often, but it was very, very fun. Seeing her eyes rolled back for that long, her drooling and sucking on a part that wasn't even really there with so much passion, it was wonderful, and I need to do something similar to her in the future, because the look that adorable, pathetic bitch had on her face made me want nothing other than to find ways to break her in even more.

[quarterlifekitty]

Hi! could you possibly write something about a fuckboy!soap and shy!reader that he uses for sex, and she keeps letting him? im craving angsty angst ANGST that just keeps hurting…you don’t have to if you don’t want to and thank you if you do! Have a great day!

Okay, one thing you all should know about me? Is that I’m a weenie lol so I can’t help but make things a little hopeful most of the time. Also— gonna make this like a college type AU

Soap clocks you from a mile away when he sees you at a party. There’s a cup of beer in your hand that you’ve been nursing, just sipping to have something to do while you cling to the side of the friend who forced you to come.

He’s seen you in his classes before. You’re good. Not the type to be seen in a place like this. And that kinda whets his appetite. He wants to fuck you, break you, make you fall apart for his own amusement.

He nudges Gaz— they have the routine down to a science— splitting up the birdies that are a little too huddled together so they can have their way with them. Gaz runs interference this time, Johnny mouthing an “I owe ye” his way— chatting up and pulling your friend away to talk a bit more. You’re alone now, and Johnny swoops in, weaving through people on a warpath.

He corners you expertly, and you’re a pathetically easy read. Easy to tease, to coax, to push. He just has to throw in a few lines about how pretty you look, peppered between him saying he’s always wanted to talk with you, always admired you in class— he gives just enough detail to lull you into thinking this is courting. That he’s going to fuck you because he likes you.

Works like a charm. Always does. You clumsily follow him to his room—“Ye didnae ken? This is my fraternity’s house, bonnie,”— as he pulls you along by the hand.

He enjoys pulling you apart. Like the birds taking Prometheus’s liver. He’s not a complete animal, he makes you cum, but he doesn’t give you kisses the way you’d probably hoped he would. He’ll tell his mates later— it was kinda cute how fucking bad you were at giving head, too.

He lets you stay the night even though your clinging is a bit annoying. Pushing you out would burn this bridge, and he’s not ready to do that just yet. Not when he could keep having fun.

Come morning your clothes are tossed your way (sans panties, those are going in his trophy collection), and he has the decency to drop you off at your place with the promise of further contact.

Come your next class, he’s back to acting like he doesn’t know you. You’re shy, but you’re not stupid. It’s easy to see that you were played, and you curse yourself for falling into it.

So why do you show up when he texts you, asking you to come over?

Promethean indeed.

And it keeps happening.

It’s not like he treats you badly— that’s what you tell yourself. You’re just the idiot for expecting more than orgasms. It’s nice to feel wanted. It’s not nice to put your clothes on and get out right after, but you’re willing to ignore that. You shouldn’t be. But you are.

You’re not the kind of girl who gets asked out. So why refuse the one source of attention you have? He makes you cum, right? That’s more than a lot of guys do, so it would be unfair to expect more. High maintenance. Right?

If Johnny can see the hurt behind your eyes when you turn to check behind you when you leave, as if he’ll suddenly change his mind and call you back into bed to hold you, he doesn’t do anything about it. He’s content to tug on his jeans and brush past you with a cigarette in his mouth.

You steel yourself as usual, double checking the straightness of your clothes as if it’ll make you feel like less of a cheap whore when his housemates glance your way as you leave.

The door across from Johnny’s is almost always open, despite how closed off its occupant seems. You’ve never met Simon. Well, you really haven’t met anyone in Soap’s life. That’s not what he keeps you for, is it? Fucktoys don’t get introduced to the friend group. Doesn’t stop Simon from staring holes in your back every time you leave. Must think you’re easy. Must wonder if Johnny’ll mind if he has a go. Or maybe he just thinks you’re pathetic. You certainly do.

But it’s happened one too many times. Apparently, even a worm will turn. His stare itches and crawls up your skin when you already feel like such a piece of meat— chewed up and spit out. And you must be losing flavor. Before long you won’t even have this. You turn to look at him instead of walking on as usual.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” You spit in a tone that surprises you. You’ve never said anything like that to someone, not in earnest, anyway.

“Lemme take y’out somewhere.”

What?

What?

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

azul meeting leech parents and leech twins meeting ashengrotto parents?

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

Azul meeting the Leech parents!

“Ahhh, you must be Mr. and Mrs. Leech. It’s wonderful to finally meet the parents of my dear vice dorm leader Jade and my invaluable associate Floyd. Azul Ashengrotto, at your service.”

His smile was dialed up to 11 as he produced business cards from within his jacket. One for the father and one for the mother, then an extra card apiece in case the first were lost or damaged. Azul handed them over with a flourish. Only Mr. Leech accepted a single card, slipping it from the boy by pincering his index and middle fingers like a crab’s claw.

He held it out for his wife—a hand covering her mouth, hiding her expression. Mr. Leech ran his own gaze over the printed text, reading simultaneously. Name, positions, contact information. His eyes slightly narrowed, in that almost imperceptible way that Jade’s did.

Ah, there’s the family resemblance.

“I would provide you with my own, but I’m afraid you would have to sign an NDA first. Due to the nature of my… occupation, there are many legal hoops for others to jump through.”

“An NDA!! I see that you’re a man after my own heart,” Azul gushed. “I’m a businessman myself, so I completely understand the importance of keeping trade secrets. Please, think nothing of it. Just keeping my information on file is enough for me.”

With a nod, Azul’s business card vanished into Mr. Leech’s suit. “Agreeable young man.”

It was difficult for Azul to hold his smirk at bay. Bingo. I’ve gotten an ‘in’.

“Ehhhh, how strange. You’re a little different in real life than how Jade and Floyd described you,” Mrs. Leech piped up, giggling.

“Oh? And how, may I ask, did they describe me?”

“Let’s see… What was it again? Do you remember their specific wording, angelfish?”

“I believe it was… ‘A cute, squishy crybaby with an absolutely terrible personality. High-strung and hopelessly greedy. Prod him in the right places and his composure will break down completely. A treat to bully.’ Something to that effect.”

“Wh-What…!!” Azul sputtered, his jaw agape. “I-I am no such thing!! I STRONGLY refute their claims.”

Those two…! Making me sound like an utter buffoon to their parents!!

“My, myyy~” Mrs, Leech drawled, latching onto her husband’s arm. “Did you see that just now? His cheeks turned bright pink and his eyes went sooo wide. He really is as adorable as Jade and Floyd said he is!”

“Is that so? Hmm… I’m getting hungry myself. The young man is starting to look rather appetizing.”

“A-Are you joking!?” Azul demanded, bolting up from his seat. “If so, I do not find this the least bit amusing…!!”

“Fufufu. Perhaps you can kindly recommend a hearty octopus dish or two from your eatery’s menu.”

“Ehehehe~ I’m so pleased that Jade and Floyd have such a fun friend around at school!”

“This is no laughing matter!!”

Jade and Floyd meeting the Ashengrotto parents!

“Mr. and Mrs. Ashengrotto.”

“Azul’s mom and dad!”

"It's nice to see you again, ma'am," the twins said in unison. They wore a matching smile, showing all of their sharp teeth. "And it's nice to finally meet you, sir."

“Ah, I recognize you.” Mrs. Ashengrotto’s eyes lit up with realization. “You’re the Leech boys that would come by and drag him out to play with you. You used to be so small—look at you now, you’ve grown so much!”

“Yup, that’s us!”

“We were little rascals back then. It was terrible of us to pull Azul away from his precious studies." Jade chuckled into one hand. "But not to worry, we've been on the straight and narrow ever since those childhood days. Isn't that right, Floyd?"

"Yeah, Jade~"

"It must be fate that you were brought back together at Night Raven College." Mr. Ashengrotto's laugh was warm and hearty, like a stew in the dead of winter. "What do you three get up to nowadays?"

"Lotsa stuff! Azul's got this whooole operation going on, and we're there to help him out," Floyd replied cryptically. "Jade and I advertise and do crowd control! Azul's the brains, he handles the plans and money and whatever."

"Advertise" as in, "luring unsuspecting souls into making deals" and "crowd control" as in, "dealing with debtors who tried to weasel out of those deals". Trinkets, money, talents. Everything Azul collected had a chance of being paid for in blood. Dirty prizes--but it was a secret none had to know.

"You work well as a group," Mrs. Ashengrotto remarked. "Reminds me of myself and my own restaurant staff!"

"Well, Azul does often speak about how he respects you. It does not surprise me that he works to live up to your sparkling reputation." Jade's eyes cut to a table across the way, where Azul was seated and chatting with his own parents. He appeared to be flustered about something, having risen from his seat, his mouth flapping in protest while Mr. and Mrs. Leech grinned widely. Jade himself smirked at the sight.

"He's been a blast to be around!" Floyd agreed, slinging an arm around his twin. "Azul's suuuch a good leader. Think we'll be stickin' with him to the ends of Twisted Wonderland and back, hehe."

"That's right, Floyd."

Until he becomes boring, he had once claimed. It had been winter break, and they were seated on the floor of Scarabia's lounge, mancala beads in hand. Azul had agreed, had already considered that inevitability.

But Moray eels were not known for their honesty. The truth, they only spoke out of his earshot.

"It's nice that you'll always be there for each other. I envy that deep bond you share." Mr. Ashengrotto raised his glass--provided free, courtesy of Azul. "A toast? To the future of our boys and their friendship."

Mrs. Ashengrotto followed her husband's lead. Then Jade, then Floyd.

Their glasses met in the middle with a resounding clink.

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

LOLL girl I totally get it, but I don't think you have to be scared on this one. It's a nice little slow burn fic with cozy winter vibes. 😘 And like you, I LOVE soulmate/true mate/fates mate AUs too. It's definitely a mix of forced proximity and grumpy/sunshine, which you know I can't stop writing that dynamic for some reason. 😂😂

But here we go!! Diving into the rest of your lovely comments...

The physical description of Dean is SO good. The use of "stern" and "stubborn" as descriptors fits well for Dean.

Hahaaa thank you, lovely!! Stern brows and a stubborn chin felt inherently Dean to me.

Oh suuuurrrreeee keep telling yourself that Dean.

Lmfao right? Denial of the purest form. 🙄

So what you're saying is... she's trapped in a cabin, she's got a broken ankle, in the middle of a snowstorm with no way out and no communications, with a ruggedly hot mountain man with gorgeous green eyes, a gruff exterior, and a mysterious past... Sign👏🏻 Me👏🏻 Up

That is EXACTLY what I'm saying. 😏

(Also that How to Train Your Dragon gif made me smile -- I love that movie!!)

So ready for Dean to just obliterate all her other experiences with total jerks.

Oh he already is! You def know where I'm going with this. 😏

I live for the after a nightmare comfort trope (if it is a trope? 🧐) and I am SO happy you put this in. Oh my goodness it was so sweet of him to come check on her, and for you to give us a little bit of insight inside of Dean's POV during those moments where she was terrified. This part stuck out to me, because the man is already hook, line, and sinker. He literally tried to go to a cabin in the middle of the woods to get away from it all, but fate really has an odd way of catching up to you. Can't exactly run from it Dean.

Aww me too!! I love hurt/comfort moments almost as much as pure fluff moments. Dean really is fighting for his life emotionally in this loll. His instincts as an alpha (and her mate) are warring with his brain, and it was really fun to write that aspect of Dean's angst post-season 15.

OOooooooOOOooooo shots fired. SHOTS FIRED... But did she stutter??

She, in fact, did NOT stutter.

I'm losing it over the fact that Sam named his son DEAN Jr. 😂🥰 And also the bit about "running full speed into glass doors" is making me cackle lol.

Ahaha idk if that was actually canon or if that's something we in the fandom started writing and I just rolled with it. 😂 I'm pretty sure it's canon that Sam named his son after his uncle? But oh yeah, the running full speed into glass doors was taken straight out of my childhood. 🤣🤣

This line is so Dean, it's PERFECT, and I really love that it was what made the reader try to snort her diet Pepsi.

LOL thank you!! I think I grabbed part of it from season 12 where they go to Hollywood/L.A., but I thought it was quintessential Dean. 🤣

And I just want to say thank you for giving Dean the kinda "homemaker" role in this fic. The fact that he's making food for the reader (I'm obsessed with men who can cook) and taking care of her is just:

Omg yeesss, I love malewife Dean lmao. He's just such a caretaker at heart, and an awesome cook! I can so picture him making big breakfasts for his kids on weekends and packing their lunches for school. 🥹

Oh no Dean, you're not like the Cabin in that way. The cabin is made of strong aged wood that keeps out the chill and is full of warmth! The cabin withstands the elements and doesn't fall no matter how hard the howling wind blows! Dang it, I have way too many emotions over that line. Alex, why did you have to do this to me 😭 It's SO GOOD!!

Dean's self-deprecating angst is like a necessary evil for his character. I'm so glad the cabin metaphor resonated with you the way I intended, even if it breaks my heart too!! 😭😭💙💙

And I'm not sure if you were trying to say that the reader was also a little skeptical about the true mates and if it is a real thing that happens, but I can't wait for part 2 to see if they actually admit it to each other or if they try to keep it a secret as long as they can! Also the song choice perfectly fits the vibes in this fic 👌🏻

Oh yeah, there's some of that too! She's more open to it now than Dean, but I thought we needed some realism where she's also skeptical true mates are even real -- until she met Dean. How strongly they both are reacting to each other physically, but not wanting to admit it yet, and the reader just wanting to know more about Dean before she begins to trust him, all of that is going to continue playing out in Part 2. 💓💓

Oh thank you on the song choice!! Of course Bob Seger has featured on the show in a big way with "Night Moves," so I thought "Against the Wind" felt very Dean, especially in a post-S15 AU.

My lovely friend, this was so good and I can't wait for part 2!!!

Thank you sooooo very much, my friend!! 🥹🥹 Part 2 is dropping later today!! 🥳💕💕

Against the Wind - Part 1

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: This is a canon ending-divergent AU, but still an Omegaverse story within the canon world. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, scenting, injuries, hints of angst, fluff and feels. 

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: In His Hands

Your body is mostly numb when he pulls you out of the snow.

You utter a sharp cry when something in your side twinges, waking up your entire body like a white-hot shiv. Your ankle begins to throb as well.

“Hold on. I’ve got you.”

You only half hear the voice, a deep, coarse rumble. His form is broad and dark and blurry, but his male scent is the only thing you register with perfect clarity. 

Alpha. 

A small treble of alarm runs through you. It’s an instinct you’ve had to learn, as an omega traveling alone in rural Montana. However, something else disrupts that anxiety.

It’s his scent. His scent is like the crackle and smoke of a warm hearth. 

Safe. Your body is heavy and stiff and doesn’t respond to your commands, and yet, you feel a measure of calm when he maneuvers you into his arms. It’s a baser instinct, rooted deep in your chest. He begins to carry you down the slope of the mountain, and your vision blurs white…

Like the flurry of snow falling heavy on his jacket.  

You wake up freezing and shivering in pain. A sensation of small sharp needles begins to travel all across your skin. Slowly, as you're able to blink, your view of the dark wood cabin clears and focuses. You realize that you’re bundled in blankets, and laying on a chaise in front of a large fireplace. Still, you’re too cold. A keening whimper escapes you as you try to burrow in.

Alpha. Your body instinctively recognizes his presence, as he’s suddenly there, hovering close above you with a divot between his brows and a frown marring his face, where thick stubble threatens to become a beard. Stern, dark brows are furrowed over his concerned eyes. His plush frown is framed by a stubborn-looking chin. Your gaze wearily travels over his handsome features, his short brown hair, the flickers of firelight that splash across the side of his face.

He places a warm, calloused hand on your forehead, and he mutters a curse. Your body trembles further with cold. You part your lips, but you can't yet force your voice to escape them.

Again, he quite literally takes the problem into his own hands. He peels away the thick blankets just to slide himself in behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and you feel their tempered strength when they cage you in against him. You manage to turn your head and rest your cheek against his chest, covered by red plaid. Thank you...

Almost on reflex, you breathe in his scent deeply.  The earthiness of it calms you, warms you from the inside. Your shivering eventually calms and turns to purring in your chest. 

“What’s your name, Omega?” he asks. His voice is deep and gruff, and it threatens to make you shiver for a different reason as the timbre of it washes over you. 

It’s difficult, but you manage to speak, clearing past your parched throat to give him your name. He nods, as if rolling the sound of it back and forth across his mind.

“Was somebody out there with you?” he asks.

You shake your head, even though the thought elicits a painful twinge in your heart. 

“Who…” you try to speak again, even though it hurts a little. “Who are you?”

You feel him take a deep breath. He hesitates, like he’s reluctant to give it to you. 

“Dean,” he says. 

You roll the name around in your head, over and over. Dean, Dean, Dean…

You smile slightly. “Yeah, makes sense.”

“What?” he says. You hear the raised brow in his tone. 

“You sound like a Dean,” you say, perhaps a little delirious. 

Anyway, that’s when your eyes close on you again. You fall back into the warm lull of sleep, to the sound of a crackling fire, and a feeling that permeates throughout your body.

Safe.

Can’t fucking believe this, Dean thinks, as he holds you. Just when he thought his life was done throwing him curveballs.

He tips his head back against the sofa cushion with a tired exhale. It would just be his luck to find a stray omega wandering his stretch of Big Sky. Montana can be gnarly in the winter, but for the past couple of years, Dean has learned to survive here in this rental cabin for a couple of months at a time, when wandering an empty bunker gets to be too much. At least here the quiet’s peaceful, if still a little unnerving sometimes. 

He glances down at you. Now that you’re warm and sleeping again, he should find something to wrap your ankle and ice it down. It’s swollen, and he wants to take an inventory of your other injuries, so he can determine how to get you back down the mountain and through the woods, back to civilization.

The sooner he gets you medical attention and back to your life, the sooner he can get back to his—even though the thought of leaving you in anyone else’s hands almost stirs a growl in his throat.

And that last part unnerves him, makes him anxious. He begins to untangle himself from you, but his movements falter when your sweet scent filters through his nose again. Cinnamon apples, with a hint of something floral. 

Fuck me.

It’s almost too sweet to be true, but Dean does his best to ignore it…and what that alluring sweetness probably means. 

Dean leaves you in the morning to revisit the site where you fell. He digs through the snow and manages to find your backpack, filled with your clothes, supplies, and your phone and wallet. He returns just in time. 

The falling snow becomes even more intense, until it becomes a quiet roar outside. You watch the snowstorm through the impact windows in the kitchen, and you know what this means. You’re snowed in with a stranger—an alpha, no less. 

You also have a bum ankle, which he wrapped for you. Doesn’t feel broken, he’d said, but it could be fractured, or at the very least sprained. You also likely have a couple of cracked ribs. 

“What were you doing out there, anyway?” he asks, while pouring himself a glass of whiskey. “This ain’t exactly hiking season.”

While you drink some hot chocolate he made you with a bit of whiskey splashed in (for extra warmth), you explain.

“Well, I guess it wasn’t my best idea in hindsight,” you say with a weak chuckle. “I was trying to find my way back, and I…well, I was a bit lost.”

He raises his brows wryly, still sipping.

“And to make a great situation even better, I thought I heard a wolf howl nearby,” you say. “I know most of them would rather run from us than attack us, but you can’t be sure, you know? I had my rifle on me, so I was turning around, trying to pinpoint what direction it was in…and of course, my foot slipped on something.”

You fell down that hill. You think you even hit a tree on the way down, which would explain your ribs. Everything gets a bit swirly, cold, and dark in your memory after that. 

Dean shakes his head. “Gotta say, going out there alone wasn’t a great idea either, especially now. This time of year, there’s no telling when a blizzard like this is going to come through.”

He waves haphazardly toward the storm raging outside. Your gaze falls to the mug in your hands. You don’t really want to talk about your reasons for taking that risk, but maybe giving him a little honesty will get him off your back.

“My dad and I used to hike up here every year,” you confess. “A few months ago…I lost him. So I guess this was just something I needed to do.”

You blow on your hot chocolate before you take another sip. This time when you glance up, Dean’s judgy expression has evened out into something more sympathetic. He lowers his glass.

“Well, hate to break it to you, but there’s no cell service up here,” he says.

You give a humorless huff. “Believe me, I know.”

“Which means no one can come up here and get you,” he continues, “and even when this storm breaks, I can’t carry you all the way down the mountain back to civilization. Not with the snow as deep as it’s gonna get. Now…maybe I can go down by myself and bring help back with me.”

“But another storm could snow me in,” you realize, with growing apprehension at the thought.

Dean nods. “It’s either I take that chance, leave you by yourself. Or we wait for you to heal up.”

He leaves the choice up to you with a gesture of his hand, the one still wrapped around his glass. You weigh those options with a tilt of your head. On one hand, you don't want to impose on him longer than you had to, but on the other, you really don't want to be left alone in this cabin for God knows how long while he scales the mountain by himself, for your sake.

“I think it would be better if we go down together, right? It can be dangerous, even when the storm breaks,” you reply.

Dean nods slowly, like that was what he was going to suggest too. “All right. Well, until you’ve got two working legs, you’re stuck here with me.”

“I figured as much,” you say. Your head tilts as you consider him. He has a gruff exterior, but all his actions so far have been kind, and far more than you’d expect from a stranger. And an alpha at that. 

Not to say that all alpha's are assholes, but you've had far too many experiences with the stereotype: arrogant, entitled, and handsy. Can't forget handsy. 

“Thank you for saving me,” you say, meeting his gaze, “and for…well, being a decent guy.”

Dean’s lips twitch. He nearly chuckles. Instead, he sits back on his side of the couch. 

“Yeah, well, there’s a spare room in this place for you, one bathroom. The kitchen is stocked. I’m a half-decent cook, if I say so myself, but help yourself.”

He gets up from the couch without preamble, to go to his room, you assume. It leaves you feeling at a loss, like he’s trying to get away from you. You know you’re a guest in his space, so you try to respect the way he wants to be alone for a while. He definitely gives off loner vibes. 

You look around and find a collection of vinyl records, and smaller collection of books on a shelf next to the fireplace. You find Gulliver’s Travels, Dune, The Odyssey, The Wizard of Oz—books you didn’t think a guy like Dean would be into. 

You take up The Wizard of Oz, reclaim your spot on the chaise, and start reading.

That night, your dreams are plagued by the crunch of dead leaves, your father shouting at you to run, and to keep running.

The coarse roar of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short.  

You wake with a start, your body both cold and flush at the same time.

Dean is there once again. It confuses you at first, but then it all returns to you in a rush—the where and the why you’re here, once again with the alpha standing over you in concern. He grasps your shoulder and asks if you’re all right. Your breathing is too erratic for you to answer him, your eyes too wide, your body trembling.

Had you been making noise in your sleep? You blush in embarrassment at the thought. You also feel bad for waking him, and all those things get trapped in your throat.

Seeing that you’re most definitely not fine, he sits on the edge of the bed, squeezes your arm, and reminds you. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe here,” he tells you. His tone is deep and even, reassuring.

You meet his steady gaze and manage to nod, trying to catch your breath. 

“I’m okay,” you say, with a shaky nod. He gives you a measuring look, both a question and a confirmation. You give it to him with a firmer nod. “Thanks, I…I’m sorry I woke you up.”

He exhales through his nose, accepting. “‘S all right. Don’t worry about it.” 

You feel the loss of his touch when his hand eventually slip away from your shoulder. As soon as he came into your room, he’s gone. 

Dean leaves swiftly, trying to brush off how the scent of your fear had tugged sharply at his gut even in his sleep. It not only woke him up, but compelled him to kick his blankets off and get out of bed to go to you.  

You were having a nightmare, reliving your fall, if he had to guess. You came out of it pretty quick when he carefully grabbed your shoulder. Every instinct in his body told him to gather you into his arms and cover you with his own scent and protective embrace to calm you down. 

Through sheer willpower, he managed to ignore every single one of those instincts.  

Two days pass, in which you and Dean say very little to one another, besides when he asks you what you want to eat, and how you’re feeling. The alpha seems genuine, but guarded any time you ask him about him; anything that’ll give you a clue into who this guy is, and why he’s here. 

You try again to strike up some kind of conversation over dinner one night. 

“Do you live here year-round?” you ask, around a mouthful of burger that’s absolutely delicious. He wasn’t lying when he claimed to be a good cook. He even made the fries himself.

“No,” he replies. “No Netflix, no internet? Think I’d die of boredom. I just come up here to uh…take a beat, I guess.” 

You smile. “I don’t blame you. Sometimes you just need a break,” you say, even though your tone is heavier than you meant it to be. Your gaze, a bit distant in that moment, sharpens and focuses back on Dean. “Where are you from, then?”

“Kansas,” he offers.

“Oh really?” You brighten with that scrap of information. “My older sister lives in Topeka. She moved there for a job, initially, but then she met her guy. He’s some kind of day trader. Which is just code for sits on his ass playing Call of Duty while she busts hers.” 

Dean huffs, then crams more burger into his mouth. He hasn’t been giving you a lot to go on while you two have been talking. Unfortunately, you have the tendency to ramble and fill the silence before it becomes even more stifled. 

“She works at a bank. Smart, driven, always knows what she wants. Meanwhile, I’ve had about seven jobs in the last three years, none of which were even remotely related to my almost useless degree in Communications.”

“Yeah, doubt you need a degree in communicating,” Dean remarks, popping another fry into his mouth.

 You purse your lips at him, but the glint of teasing in his eyes makes you fight not to smile. 

“All right, smart guy. So, what about you?” you ask.

Predictably, the man’s walls firm back up. “What about me?”

“Well…why’re you up here alone? Do you have family?” you ask.

Dean quirks a half smile. “I’ve got a brother.”

“Okay. Younger, I’m guessing?”

He tilts his head at you, a bit amused at your guess. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I can’t imagine you with a brother who’s older than you.”

His lips twitch. “You callin’ me old, sweetheart?”

You begin to blush with embarrassment. But also, sweetheart?

You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just mean like…”

Dean saves you with the return of his smile.

“Yeah, he’s younger,” he says. “But he’s the one with the quasi-wife and the apple pie life.” 

“Quasi-wife?”

“They’re mated. Just haven’t gotten around to the whole getting hitched thing,” he explains. “But they’re happy. Dean Jr.’s growing up fast, already running full speed into glass doors.”

His smile is genuine when he talks about his brother, just tinged with a bit of melancholy, you think. 

“Dean Jr.?” you ask in amusement. Dean Sr. laughs a little, and you enjoy the sound, the way it lightens up his face and pulls at the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, can’t say I wasn’t surprised myself to get that honor, but…hey, it works for the kid. He’s got my chin,” he remarks.

He digs into his pocket to show you a picture from his cell phone. Even though it doesn’t have service, you can still view the many pictures of the adorable infant in his camera roll, courtesy of Sam and his mate, Eileen. You coo at the chubby cheeks, the bright little eyes, and the swirled tuft of dark hair on his head.

“Where do they live?” you ask.

“Out west, a stone’s throw from the City of Angels.” Dean’s smile dims. “He just had to go back to California.”

“What’s wrong with California?” you ask.

“It’s full of pretentious douchebags, that’s what,” he says, his voice a dry whip. “Waxed up to the fucking eyeballs, smelling like Botox, Adderall, and sweaty desperation.”

You splutter laughing so bad that your diet coke escapes you in a spit take. It partially goes up into your nose, burning, stinging your eyes, but it’s made worse by the way Dean waves a hand up incredulously. You’ve just gotten half his sleeve wet.

He meets your gaze, and you can’t help but laugh even harder. 

“Wow,” he says. 

“God, I’m sorry,” you say, still giggling. You get up, hobble over to the kitchen counter, and rip off a paper towel to try and pat his arm dry. He takes it from you and helps you back into your seat.

“I got it, Spit Take. Just finish your food,” he says, if with a dancing gleam in his eyes.  

From then on, it becomes easier for you to pull the alpha into conversation. Besides reading, napping, and staring out the window while it snows, you don’t have much by way of entertainment. Not to mention the pain of trying to get around without crutches, as it also jostles your ribs. Dean often has to help you from one room to another, which of course, you get embarrassed by.

“I’m sorry!” you yelp, when he saves you from another crash landing in the hallway. You’re fresh out of a shower, and it had taken you twenty minutes just to figure out how to wash your hair on one leg, let alone dry yourself off and get your shirt and borrowed sweatpants on. The main problem in getting back to your room happened to be the pants themselves. Their length and bagginess made you slip.

At least Dean’s learned to ignore your apologies. He now holds you by the waist, having pulled you against his chest on reflex. With furrowed brows, he notices your pained hiss when you grab onto his arms for balance.

“You okay?” he asks with a note of alarm.

“Ribs,” you gasp. They’re throbbing sharply with his hold, especially after being rattled by the near fall.

He immediately adjusts his hold lower, holding your arm and hip to support you. His hands are strong, but gentle. The warmth and pressure of his touch rattles you more than almost falling into a heap. Cliché as it might be, your heart is beating faster, what seems like in and out of rhythm. A feeling you can’t name stirs and tugs at your lower belly when you hazard looking up into his eyes. They’re a nice shade of green, like a forest floor in the spring.

“You just go ass over tea kettle at any moment, huh?” he quips, his lips tugging upward. “Come on. Where were you headed?”

“To my room, wise guy,” you say wryly, even as your blush heats your face and neck. “But this is a great taxi service.”

He snorts. “Yeah, call it the Winchestermobile.”

“Winchester. That your last name? Like the rifle?” you ask, while he helps you carefully down the hall. He nods in confirmation.

“That’s interesting. You don’t meet many Winchesters,” you remark.

“Yeah, well, ain’t that many left,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, easing you down onto the edge of the bed. His hands go to his hips as he scrutinizes your form for further injury. “You good? I was about to get cracking on some lunch.”

You offer him a grateful smile. “Yeah, I’m good. What’s on the menu?”

“Nothing fancy. I’m thinking grilled cheese. Maybe some tomato soup, assuming I can find a can in the pantry,” he says.

“Honestly, that sounds awesome,” you say. “Haven’t had a grilled since…God, probably since I was a kid.”

At that, Dean smiles. “Well, I happen to make an awesome one. No less than three kinds of cheese.”

“If they’re as good as your burgers, then I don’t doubt it,” you reply. He seems pleased at that, and maybe a little bashful as his gaze falls away.

Cute, you think. Your smile grows.

“All right, well, stay tuned,” he says. He winks, tossing you a “gun for hand” gesture that makes you laugh. Dean wears a rugged exterior as easily as his winter jacket, but he’s also kind of a dork.

After lunch (delicious, as you predicted), you take the afternoon just to sort through Dean’s records and alphabetize them for him. You hunker down on the floor in front of the shelf, close to the record player. 

“I don’t need all that. I know where all my stuff is…more or less,” he says, with a lazy wave of the beer he has in hand. 

“Oh really?” you raise a brow. “Okay, let’s test that theory. Where’s Boston.” 

“Right next to the White Album, there on the left.”

Sure enough, you find Boston, as well as the White Album by the Beatles.  

“Oh my God, you actually have the White Album?” You open up the double-sided case in excitement to read the list of songs printed on the inside. “This thing is so expensive.” 

“Beatles fan, huh?” Dean says as he takes a seat on the couch. You turn your smile on him, and he stills in his seat.

“Uh, yeah. Who isn’t?” you say.

Dean shrugs with a smile of his own. “Put it on if you want.”

You bounce a little with excitement before you figure out how to turn on his record player. You put the vinyl album on Side B, moving the needle until you find “Blackbird.”

“Of course,” Dean says, slightly teasing. You turn to him with crunched brows.  

“What? ‘Blackbird’s’ a classic.”

“Eh. Everyone likes ‘Blackbird.’”

“That’s what a classic means,” you argue.

“More like a mainstream copout,” he says. You think it’s just to needle you, but you still purse your lips. 

“Fine, Mr. Music Snob. Then what’s your favorite?”

“On the White Album?”

“Any Beatles song.”

“‘Hey, Jude,’” he says, after a moment. There’s some kind of weight in his eyes, a note of melancholy. You don’t miss it, even though you don’t know why it’s there.

“Everyone likes ‘Hey, Jude,’” you quip, trying to lighten him. 

He smiles a little. “Yeah. Fair enough.”

Finally, the snowstorm breaks. Dean ventures outside and brings you back a long, sturdy stick to lean your weight on when you want to move around, though he claims he’s working on a better solution. Now that the snow has let up, he’ll be able to go out to the shed and do some work. 

Whatever that means, you think.

You watch him from the living room when he goes outside to chop some more firewood. 

He should really wear a hat. His brown hair is getting dusted white with snow flurries as he continues to swing down the ax. You notice the power in his tall frame, even covered by layers of his jacket, pants, and boots. You almost feel each chop of the wood resonate in your chest. 

Heat rises in your cheeks when he looks up, as if he senses he’s being watched. You bow your head and pretend to read your book.

His boots continue to crunch in the snow as he makes trips back and forth from the surrounding forest. Aside from the firewood, he brings back a few long, thinner logs that he takes to the shed. Soon you begin to hear the steady back-and-forth cutting of a saw. You wish you could go out there and take a look, but you can’t even get around the house that easily, let alone venture outside.

Your curiosity about this man knows no bounds, and you decide to use the walking stick he found for you in the meantime to get around without putting pressure on your injured ankle. You know it’s wrong, but you end up traversing the long, dark hallway, pushing open the door to the right, and venturing into Dean’s room. 

It smells like him, earthy and tinged with smoke. His scent is seeped into every part of it—the bed, the dresser and nightstands, the dark blue bedsheets, the desk and chair, and even the drapes. It makes you almost lightheaded at the pleasurable feeling of it washing over you.

A shudder suddenly runs down your spine and tugs at your core in arousal. With a sharp intake of breath, you have to shift on your feet, pressing your legs together against the slick already forming down below.

You’re shocked and embarrassed at first. You aim to bolt out of his room, but you stop short in the doorway as it dawns on you.

Your sister is a beta, and so is her husband. She’s never completely understood you as an omega. She never understood your parents either, or the bond they had. She always scoffed at the idea of “true mates.”

Soulmates. It was fantasy and myth, the stuff of cheesy Harlequin novels.

Growing up, you’d agreed with her, even though a part of you deep down always protested. It wanted to tell her not to open her mouth about something she knew nothing about, and would never know. 

The day you met Dean, you knew she was wrong. 

Your more logical mind tries again to reassert itself though. You remind yourself that you barely know anything about this man, no matter how attractive, kind, funny, enigmatic… 

And yet, you can’t shake that part of you that doesn’t rest until you see his face in the morning; until you make him coffee and eat breakfast together, and take any opportunity to pull more threads from him. It’s more than passing attraction. It’s more than just being stuck together in this cabin, unable to escape each other. You know, because the feeling scares you, and it electrifies your blood at the same time.

All these thoughts go through your mind when you turn back around. Slowly, you continue to look around his room, your whole body tingling. The room is neat, more or less, with everything in its proper place. It’s pretty bare though, décor wise. There’s a desk with a few scattered books and a journal sandwiched in between. A smile of surprise forms across your face.

No. Don’t tell me this guy is Mr. Dear Diary? you think in amusement. Though you wonder if it’s another way he passes his time here, especially when he’s holed up in his room.

You know you shouldn’t be snooping, let alone contemplating what you’re about to do…but you can’t help yourself. Biting your lip, you slide out the journal and begin to flip through it. 

You frown at the strange drawings and odd entries—dates, narratives, scraps of information on different types of mythological creatures, and even more strange, on how to kill them. 

What the hell is this?

That’s when you hear the front door swing open. You bolt from his room as quick as you can, not realizing you took the journal with you in your haste. You stuff it up your sweater and pretend like you’ve just come out of the bathroom on the way back to your room. There you slide the journal under your pillow. You jump when Dean knocks on your door.

“Hey,” he greets.

The jolting pains your ribs, and your hand goes to your left side in a hiss. 

“You okay?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern. He takes a step into your room, but you turn to him with a nod and a placating hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You just scared me,” you say, with a bit of nervous laughter.

He gives a half smile. “Sorry. Just come ‘ere a sec. I wanna show you something.”

He reaches out a hand to help guide you to the living room.

There he presents you with two rudimentary crutches. Your eyes widen as your free hand passes over the smooth chestnut color of the wood. Dean keeps a light hold on your elbow, just in case.

“You made these?” you ask.

“Yeah, just a bit of woodworking. Picked it up over the last couple of years,” he says.

He’s downplaying it, but you’re nothing short of marveling. You set aside the walking stick in favor of picking up the crutches, and they’re even the right size to position them under your arms.

“Now you don’t have to hobble around like Long John Silver,” Dean quips. You meet the sight of his grin with a raised brow, but you soon begin to smile. When you get close enough to him, you lean the crutches against the couch and give him a warm hug, resting your head on his chest.

“Thank you,” you say. It’s something he was wholly unprepared for, but he hugs you back with a chuckle.

“Uh, you’re welcome.”

Just then, he tries not to inhale your scent. He tries not to focus on the feeling of your body pressed soft and warm against his. You fit just right. 

After a beat, you have mercy on him and pull away. You take your crutches back up and continue to walk around the living room experimentally. 

“You think I’d be okay trying to go outside?” you ask on your way to the door. Dean tenses.

“Uh, I don’t think—”

But you’re already halfway out the door. He shakes his head and follows you with swift strides. He watches you step out carefully onto the porch like a baby deer. He cleared the snow this morning from the deck and the steps, but he’s more concerned when he sees you considering how you might step out onto the snow.

“Stay on the porch, all right, Bambi,” he warns. “You’re not wearing snow boots and it’s still pretty deep. Not to mention, I’ve been keeping an eye out for a bear that wandered through here last week—”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder in amusement.

“Okay, Alpha. Calm down,” you say playfully. “I’m not gonna go ass over tea kettle.”  

His brow twitches as he frowns. Alpha. He fights not to show his reaction to the way you said it; it calls to his baser instincts, almost stirring a rumble in his chest.

Cheeky little omega.

You keep to the porch, but regardless, you’re happy. You don’t even mind the cold. You see your breath on the air, and you tip your head back, closing your eyes with a smile as the sunshine warms your face. You inhale through your nose and let it out slowly in contentment. 

“It’s a good day, Dean,” you say quietly. 

You don’t realize that he’s watching you with a more reserved smile on his face. When he realizes it, he shakes his head at himself. He’s only been here a week with you, and it’ll probably take a couple more for your ankle to heal up well enough for you to walk again, let alone get down the mountain. 

He doesn’t want to leave you alone up here, so he’ll have to somehow keep fending off your probing questions into his past and personal life. There's a lifetime of blood, nightmares, and death that he just can't let you see behind his eyes.

Hell, he's been trying to shove it all down for the past year—in booze and odd jobs and trips to nowhere, always coming back to an empty bunker. He still wonders how Sam's managed to do it, to move on, and build a new life for himself.

If Dean's honest (and he's not), he feels a bit like this cabin; old, falling apart, and forgotten.

But he’ll have to keep taking in your brightness and warmth, continue arguing with you about music and other inane shit, and pretend that every small touch of yours doesn’t ignite his skin. That it doesn’t make him have to beat down every instinct he has to pull you into his body and blanket you with his scent, ravage you, claim you, and make you his. 

He never thought this would happen to him. He never thought someone like you was out there…for someone like him.

He knows it though, deep in his gut. You’re meant for him. You’re meant to be his mate.

Which means he’s already screwed. 

AN: And we're off! Special thanks again to Michelle (@luci-in-trenchcoats) for being my sounding board when I was first writing this series. Let me know what you think of Part 1! 💜

Next Time:

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed…

When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

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@lamentationsofalonelypotato @itsdesiree86

[jelzorz]

201.

Terry doesn't have siblings. He's always wondered, quietly, what it would have been like to grow up with one; someone to get in and out mischief with, someone who's supposed to be on your side despite everything else.

Claudia had been bitter about her brother.

Terry had wondered if he'd misunderstood what siblings were supposed to be.

Then he actually starts hanging out with Soren and Corvus, and well. Now he knows.

They are both older than him and decidedly more adventurous, and it's been a tough couple of months, y'know? Things are getting better—Evrkynd is almost self-sufficient, and Katolis Castle is still being fixed up but the builders have declared it livable again, and the refugees at the Banther Lodge have slowly started to move back in. Soren is not... irresponsible per se, but he does do a lot things because he thinks they would be funny, and Terry gets dragged into it because he's dragged into everything Soren and Corvus do nowadays, and that's how he ends up in their High Cleric's newly rebuilt office dressed for burglary and feeling like a child caught red handed with a cookie jar he's not supposed to have.

"Tell me again why you were sneaking into the wine cellar dressed like thieves."

Terry looks away. Opeli is nice enough and Soren and Corvus both promise that she's not as stiff as he thinks she is, but she is a formidable woman when she's annoyed, and she is, frankly, pretty damn annoyed. Corvus, for his part, looks like he's got a headache that matches hers, and Soren looks sheepish but mostly unapologetic, but Opeli isn't asking them—

She's asking Terry.

"Uh..."

Soren nudges him. Testing the security, he mouths obviously, so obviously that Corvus sinks further into his chair and hides his face by pinching the bridge of his nose.

"We were—uh—t-testing the security?" He parrots.

"And that involves sneaking a cask of wine out through the window, does it?"

Terry actually squeaks. "Yes?"

Opeli purses her lips. Terry falters under the pressure.

"Soren just said we were going for drinks! I thought he meant we were going out, I didn't think we'd be breaking into the castle—"

"You live here," she snaps, rounding on Soren and Corvus. "If you wanted a drink, why not simply walk to the kitchens like civilised members of society?"

"To his credit, High Cleric," says Corvus tiredly, "he really did make it sound like a security test."

"The fact that there was wine involved didn't raise your suspicions."

"He didn't mention the wine to me."

There's a pause. Terry wonders if she might want a drink herself.

"Come on, Opeli," says Soren at last. "It was just a little fun. We didn't even get a drink before we got caught, and we were gonna offer you some anyway."

"Why on earth would I partake in your stolen wine?"

"It's not stealing if it's our wine," he points out, flashing one of his more charming smiles at her. "It's all fine, no one got hurt, and y'know, the maids who caught us might have freaked out a little, but now we know there's a blindspot there! You can let us off just this once."

Opeli scowls at him, and then at Corvus, and then Terry. "I expected better from you two," she mutters at them. "Soren's been doing this for years, but you two..." She shakes her head. "Just go. Walk to the kitchens in future, if you please, and dress for the stations you occupy rather than scaring the maids by dressing as burglars." She dismisses them with a wave of her hand and they file out, but not before Soren reveals one of the two bottles he had stolen and leaves it on her desk. The other he uncorks as soon as Opeli's office door shuts.

"So maybe we approach from the South Wing next time?"

"Soren!"

"Are you serious?"

He laughs and raises the bottle. "Cheers to you guys," he says taking a swig before offering it to them. "Brothers in arms, right?"

In spite of himself, Terry snorts and hides his smile behind the lip of the bottle. Brothers in arms indeed.

[r7leee]

skates and slips

and the christmas fics continue!!!! i haven't written this much since i was 12 on wattpad 💀 (don't look that shit up) that aside, i had sm fun writing this one even if it’s a little short, so enjoy <3

pairing: billie eilish x fem!reader

summary: it's hot in la, even during the one time of the year it's not supposed to be. to help it feel more like the holidays, you decide to go skating

warnings: implied girly/femme reader, cursing, just christmas fluff!!

word count: 1,882, should take about 14 and a half minutes to read

listen to: any christmas song fits here

YOU’VE ALWAYS LOVED christmas. ever since you were young, you enjoyed the festivities, lights, caroling, traditions, gifts, all of it. you just wish it could be a bit more like the movies.

you were laying on top of your girlfriend, billie’s chest. she was playing with your hair and watching whatever show was in front of her as you napped. 70° in the midst of december wasn’t exactly enjoyable.

the heat made you sleepy, despite the industrial fan next to you blowing cold air on you. your head was burrowed in the crook of her neck, sweaty, sticky skin pressed against skin.

the show was interrupted with an ad break, a christmas themed commercial airing. the familiar tune playing made you envious. you just knew the commercial would have snow falling on the ground and you’d give anything to experience it.

billie could practically feel the loathing seep out of you. “you okay?” she asked, tilting your chin to make you look in her eyes. you groaned.

“i want it to actually feel like christmas and not the middle of june.” she laughed softly at that.

“trust me, baby, i do too. i do too,” she repeated the last few words.

it was the second day back after tour. when she was away, having the tree up and stockings hung really meant nothing when she wasn’t there. having her back after tour made all the difference. but, regardless, the lack of any real chill in the air made you gripe.

you sighed. “we might have to throw fake snow on the ground.” your girlfriend snorted.

“fake snow?”

“ya!” she shook her head at your answer.

“that’s gonna be like hell to clean.”

“who caaaaaares?” you whined. “i just really want it to be like…kind of like christmas.” billie understood your want. growing up and living in california her whole life, she never really got to experience a true, traditional christmas. but, that’s when something clicked.

“you know…we could go ice skating,” she suggested. you looked up at her.

"really? you'd want to?" the only reason you asked was you knew she didn't like to really be seen outside much. she nodded, a confirming, gentle smile on her face.

"ya. i'd want to." you sat up and leaned to capture her lips in a kiss. you felt her smile into it as her lips pressed against yours.

A LITTLE WHILE later, you were getting ready to leave. your outfit was made up of a black miniskirt, tights, and a simple white sweater. you were in the bathroom, applying your lipstick as billie waited eagerly on your shared bed. she'd already been dressed and ready to go ten minutes prior.

you fixed a couple things before shutting the lights off. you went to slip on some shoes in the closet as billie stood up. she walked next to you, leaning against the wall. “dressing to impress, i see.”

“you know i don’t mean anything by it. just wanna look nice for my girl, is that too much to ask?”

she shook her head, her classic smile on display. “you don’t gotta ask baby, not at all.”

you smiled up at her, toothy and wide. it made her wanna kiss all over your face and love on you, but she knew you had places to be.

she held out her hand for you to take as you stood up. you eagerly accepted it, feeling her cold rings clash with your warm skin.

shutting off the lights, you walked out of the room and the house and out to her car. as usual, she opened the door for you and you thanked her.

getting into the car, she put on her seatbelt and started the car. she pulled out of the driveway and started to make the drive to the ice rink.

the car ride was mostly filled with people watching everyone on the streets with the soft music of the radio in the background. it took you about fifteen minutes to get there.

billie parallel parked the car and quickly ran to the other side to open the door for you. she would never let you open it yourself.

you thanked her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, her face flushing pink in response. she couldn’t help it; you were just her sweet girl.

you quickly went to pay at the monitor, billie arguing with her. “it’s okay, i got it.”

“no.” you placed a hand over hers. “let me.” she huffed, but agreed, impatiently rocking on the balls of her face.

once you finished, you took her hand and walked down the sidewalk. like any day out, you both brought sunglasses and had on hats to hopefully hide your identities. it never always worked, but it did something sometimes.

the sounds of your shoes hitting the sidewalk and the bustle of the city were heard as you walked through downtown la. some people would walk by and turn their heads, doing a double take, but you kept walking, unaffected as billie squeezed your hand.

after a couple minutes of walking, you arrived at the ice rink. the outside was lit up, the sun casting a golden glow over the sky.

you both walked to the booth, waiting in a short line. after a few minutes of waiting, you approached the front. billie bought two admissions and got skates in your size, along with hers.

afterwards, she thanked the cashier and held your hand as you walked to a locker. billie helped you with your purse, placing it in the locker before she shut it, her own stuff in there as well.

you both found a place to sit and started to lace up your skates. you pulled the laces tight before you stood up. immediately, the blades caught you off balance and you fell over.

your girlfriend, who was busy lacing her own skates, had some sort of reaction go off. in a single second, she caught you, taking her attention completely away from the ice skate. she laughed softly as she hoisted you back to a standing position. “not even on the ice yet and you’re already falling.”

you gave the sweetest pout, her heart melting at the sight. “it’s been a while, don’t judge me.”

“i’m not,” she hummed as she finally finished tying her skates as well. she stood up, and just like you, stumbled forward. but, you weren’t quick enough to catch her, leaving her catching herself with her hands on the floor.

as she stood up, you raised an eyebrow at her. “oh, and you’re the one to talk.”

she rolled her eyes playfully. “oh, you love me. come on, let’s go.” she beckoned you to follow her with her hand.

the two of you stepped onto the ice. you stood still, getting used to being on a slippery surface. billie seemed to have it down. for now, at least.

she skated a little ahead of you then turned around. “come here, you got it!”

with full confidence, you pushed forward with your feet. but, instead of gently skating like you anticipated, you slipped and stumbled for a couple seconds before falling right on your ass.

immediately, billie laughed. hard. you looked up at her, faux anger on your face. “i’m in pain and you’re laughing at me! i hate you, you’re such a bitch!”

she kept laughing, tears staring to form under her eyes now. “oh- my god! how could you not laugh at that?!” she kept snickering as she reached down to help you up. you took her hand, but instead of being brought up, you fell right back down, slipping and bracing your fall with your hands.

this caused billie to laugh so hard, she needed to grab the railing for support. the whole time, your ego was minorly bruised. you stood up, dusting off your tights. “it wasn’t even that funny.”

“oh, it was sooooo funny,” she replied with snark in her voice after calming down. “you know what? let get you one of those walker things.” you immediately whined.

“noooo, i’m gonna look like an idiot.”

she started to skate back to the entrance. “no you won’t!”

a few seconds later, she returned with an ice walker. she scooted it in front of you. “if you still fall with this, i’m never letting it go.” that definitely inspired you to do better.

slowly, but surely, you started to improve, making your way across the rink with gentle motions. billie was by your side the whole time, making sure you wouldn’t slip and get too hurt.

you two skated, listening to the holiday songs, and for the first time this month, it finally felt like the holidays. people were laughing, the ice created a slight chill in the air, all was well.

billie looked to the side to see your happy, content expression. it made her feel proud inside herself. she loved seeing you like this. she knew this was a good idea.

the two of you continued to skate when suddenly, a kid came in front of you. he was pushing a sled, a kid his age on it. billie’s brain lit up. “should we do that?” you spotted the kid in front of you. you shrugged.

“i’ll fall if i push you,” you admitted honestly.

“then i can push you. pleeeeease?” and of course, you could never say no to her. so, you agreed, and billie was off switching your walker for a sled.

when she came back, she dropped the sled on the ice and motioned you to sit on it. you obliged, pressing your knees to your chest. once comfortably settled in, billie pushed and you were off.

she wasn’t fast by any means, but being on the ice was still fun. for the first time in a long time, you felt cold. being outside. it was spectacular.

after a couple laps, billie declared herself done. you called a break, getting up from the sled and putting it back for her.

as you put it away in the shed where it belonged, you spotted a concession stand. you were up for a little hot chocolate.

so, approaching your girlfriend, you asked her about it. she, of course, agreed as you walked to the concession stand.

both of you ordered piping hot chocolates and some festive pastries.

after thanking the worker, you walked to the dining area and found a spot to sit. you sat at a table that overlooked the ice rink. you sipped on your hot chocolate as you watched the people in front of you.

billie smiled as she watched you. “i’m glad we came here.” your head snapped back to hers. a smile of your own grew on your face.

“ya. me too. thank you for suggesting it.” she nodded, resting her hand on your thigh.

“only the best for my baby, ya?” you giggled and hid your head in her shoulder. you knew the next day paparazzi photos would go crazy. you knew you probably shouldn’t have done this. but this was a life moment. one you wouldn’t take back for the life of it. for now, you felt billie’s touch on your thigh and that was enough. it was perfect. the best christmas ever.

[kari-sims]

My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024🎉

Thanks @theplottdump for the tag, mwah! <3

-> tagging @kissalopa @sharona-sims @limeysims @mosneakers @eurosimmer @waaneco @pixelshary @pudsim @polarmoon @butteredfrogs @simsfvr @whyeverr @buildbuymode @zorteh @philodendrontrait @kazroze @marcishaun @nervousgnome @charsimsalot @enchantsims (sorry if you've been tagged/done this already! and no pressure if you dont want/can't do it, just have fun ˙ᵕ˙ ) and anyone whose my dummy brain forgot, please feel free to do so if you want too ♡

I don't have screenshots for every month unfortunately, (i took an almost two year break and came back to the game for real around april of this year) so this will be just 24 random screenshots i love (in no particular order). Not much happens in my game because i don't interfere that much, but i hope this isn't too boring heh

The usual Realm of Magic shenanigans: distracting Simeon from his job, fangirling over L. Faba, and old man being old.

Ellie's house renovation was my favorite thing to decorate over the months. I'm always adding things to it, and by things i mean frogs. All of the frogs.

Her garden is also my favorite place to be. Sometimes i just like to watch the bunnies running around, the grass moving, the birds chirping... and then i remember the game is running. It's really nice though.

Change doesn't happen very often in my game, but something cute sparked between these two after i decided to stop constantly ignoring and re-rolling her wants. I'm not gonna say much about it cause - and i know it's not that serious - i'm still processing it two months later lol, maybe one day...

Life and Death was so much fun, Ravenwood is now my favorite world to visit! I had no plans of getting the pack anytime soon, so i still can't believe i got to play with it when it released (thanks little fairy ♡)

Some of my favorite edits i've done this year. Apart from Ellie's shot (which was taken with no reshade on a day the game had some crazy good lighting), the others were done while i was trying to learn some stuff from one of my favorite editor's (strange-townie) speed edit videos. I hope i get more time this year to practice and learn more! (before & after album)

Favorite pictures of Ellie's best friends: old goofy lvl. 1 wizard relaxing in his new home & the unbothered rebel sage.

This year i also got to play with my favorite nerdy gamer boy. He was just a sim from a cas practice thing i did. I don't usually get attached to random sims i make, but for some reason he was just very special to me ( ꈍ ᴗ ꈍ ) ♡

I wanted to end this by saying i'm very grateful for everything i have experienced this year, and the warm welcome i've received. I'm really happy some people like my silly saturated pictures :D i promise next year i'll annoyingly fangirl and obsess over other people's lovely creations even more, so thanks for making this place such an inspiring one to be ♡ Happy holidays!◝( ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ )◜₊ ⊹₊ ⊹

[doodle-pops]

Lords of Gondolin Baking With You For The Holidays

Requests: May I request a baking with the Lords of gondolin for the festive season, sounds both fun and chaotic. Would there be anything to eat other then a mouthful of flour you threw at each other? Probably not. Unless you feel like eating cinnamon goop and crunchy burnt cookies. – anon

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this request, especially with Christmas approaching and the baking season in the air. Thanks for this request anon. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Navigation

Galdor

◇ He’s just too good when it comes to averaging ingredients, though he often got distracted by your playful antics each time you tried to eat the ingredients or break his concentration as he poured the vanilla syrup or honey. “Are you trying to sabotage my cookies?” he’ll whine when you throw flour at him.

◇ Might realise too late that you’re missing one of the ingredients—powdered sugar—and have to make a quick rush to the market. This unfortunately turns into a shopping spree where you two would return with extra ingredients.

◇ You’re the one to start a fight while Galdor is attempting to maintain the peace and his station clean, so your extra flour and eggs don’t end up in his bowl of cake batter. At some point, he got dragged into your ruffian behaviour and ended up covered in flour.

◇ Despite being the one making the cake and cookies, his knack for ‘quality control’ resulted in him tasting the batter/dough too often.

◇ When the first batch did come out of the oven, it was burnt which left you questioning all of Galdor’s ‘phenomenal’ cooking abilities he was renowned for. “I thought you were a great chef?” “I am, but when I have a little mouse in the kitchen, what else to expect?”

◇ Offended. At least there were a few cookies saved from the extra crispiness and the cake was decent to still enjoy your day’s labour.

Ecthelion

◇ He takes baking for the holidays the same as any military operation—detailed with a precise layout, and no straying from the outline. You will be gently scolded each time you attempt to do your own thing. Like measuring without measuring cups and spoon. He doesn’t do the whole ‘pour until your ancestors tell you to stop.’

◇ But Thel being Thel, still couldn’t resist breaking his own rules when the chocolate chip cookie dough was looking delicious and sticking his fingers to scoop a dollop. “Just checking to make sure they’re not poisoned.” As he shoves a spoonful in his mouth.

◇ You somehow managed to end up with too much dough? despite the way he was eating the dough each time you turned your back. He decided that you should share it, leading to an impromptu cookie giveaway.

◇ Spends a good portion of the evening walking through the streets of Gondolin handing cookies on trays to the citizens and his servants. Even Turgon is happy to receive his batch of cookies for the holidays.

◇ When it came to decorating, he took pride in it, the same way he takes pride in his appearance. He is in charge of the designs and hands out a sheet of paper filled with patterns for you to follow. Do not diverge from the original patterns, you’re ruining the aesthetic.

◇ At least in the end, you had the perfect batch of cookies to sit by the fireplace and eat with a nice glass of milk.

Glorfindel

◇ You’re never getting anything done on time, and surely your cake or cookies will be burnt because of his distractions. Which leads to you making a fresh batch and shooing him out the kitchen. He comes right back after sneaking in.

◇ Eats the dough like it’s food and gets all puzzled when you scold him for reducing the volume. “Laurë! We’ll have none by the time you’re finished! And you’ll get sick if you continue to eat the raw dough!”

◇ With a mouth full of dough, he looked hurt that you would deny him the right to taste-test the desserts to ensure the quality was up to his standards. “I just wanted to taste the cookies. Don’t have to be so mean.” Guilt trips you into letting him eat more.

◇ You obviously end up with less dough and Laurë earns himself a tummy ache from how much dough he ate raw. Some dough had less of certain ingredients while others had too much because he pulled you to dance in the middle of measuring, so you forgot and mismanaged.

◇ You end up with cookies that were undercooked, overcooked and er…not cookies? Still, it didn’t bother him because he was willing to enjoy the hard labour of your fantastic baking.

◇ “Baking is an art, and although it may not appear the way we intended, there is merit and beauty in the outcome.” He would cheer as he plopped a cookie into his mouth while you stood there with an exasperated look. Like he was the reason for the cookies being that way.

Egalmoth

◇ He wants to make gingerbread houses, cinnamon rolls, a ton of cookies and cake and roast turkey or chicken all on the same day at the same time. He’s elaborate about the activity if you haven’t caught on.

◇ When it comes to designing, he’s in charge and has everything in order, down to how to position the desserts and food on the table. Perfectionist, often redoing the steps to get them right. “Patience is key, darling,” he reminds you and boops your nose with frosting.

◇ Despite his meticulous nature, he loves a good laugh when things don’t go right. The image in his head wasn’t aligning with the image displayed after piping frosting on the cake to resemble the Christmas tree you drew on the paper.

◇ Mentions something about your artistry skills when it comes to drawing needs to be worked on so he could have a better understanding of what he was working with. That was enough for you to dump flour on his head.

◇ Did not take his clothes and hair becoming a mess because he put a lot of effort into appearing splendid to bake alongside you. So, if he had to look like a mess, so did you. “You look cute with all that flour and eggs—I might bake you instead to eat.”

◇ By the time you two were finished, the way you two were a mess, might as well hop into the oven to bake. More ingredients were wasted than used, and you found yourself eating the remaining frosting and dough off your hand.

Rog

◇ Rog’s all about efficiency, turning your baking session into a well-oiled machine. For him, it feels as though he’s back in the forges, about to craft an art piece with meticulous create and precision.

◇ You ought to expect his knack for improvising, often adding unexpected ingredients into the mix with confidence. “Trust me, mírë. It will taste great.” As he throws in peppermint, nuts and extra vanilla.

◇ Between the two of you, you’re the one who steals dough from the bowl when he isn’t looking or bribes him with kisses to have extra cookies. So easily he falls for your charm because he can never say no with those puppy eyes.

◇ Somewhere in the mix, the oven malfunctioned, which was no strenuous task for Rog to fix. You got to stand by and hand him his tools while watching his muscles flex and look like something to take a bite out of.

◇ With his skills and confidence, you two will end up with a variety of cookies, some traditional, others experimental. “A little bit of everything makes the holidays nice.”

◇ You two made just enough cookies to eat and also share with his fellow Lords and craftsmen he works within the forges. He left the wrapping and little notes for you since he prefers your handwriting suitable for the holidays.

Maeglin

◇ He was surprisingly enthusiastic about baking, eager to try new recipes with you and make new memories. The entire time, he would stand close by as he listened to your instructions and your patient voice as you guided him on how to mix or measure.

◇ Did have a tendency to get lost in the process, forgetting to remember the baking or resting period, so you might get burnt cookies and overrisen bread. Can’t blame him, you’re in the kitchen, an obvious distraction.

◇ He compares his crafting to baking cookies and wonders how could something so simple be difficult as he held up a burnt cookie that didn’t match the snowflake stencil.

◇ Discovered that you should leave the decorating to him when you explained piping the frosting on the cake and icing on the cookies. Even the gingerbread house was a masterpiece after leaving it in his hands. He designed an entire castle.

◇ When you happen to run out of frosting and icing, or the edible beads, he suggests a trip to the pastry shop for more items which results in Maeglin growing excited at the assortment of decorations and requests to buy out the entire shop.

◇ By the end, most of your desserts are more decorations than cake and cookies to eat. The layers you might have to bite through before you taste the pastry is immaculate. At least he had fun participating.

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @aconstructofamind @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @zheiya @lamemaster @eunoiaastralwings @elficially-done-with-life @addaigio @hermaeuswhora

[puckpocketed]

Trying to absorb everything there is to know about ice hockey within the shortest amount of time possible really does strange things to a person. You come up against questions such as what do defensemen even do aside from skate backwards and do tummy time to protect their goalie? (Broadcasts aren’t the most informative) What the hell makes defensemen effective? What do the casters mean when they say “gap”? What are defensive details?

I love watching games back, I love trying to understand the game. I love hockey <3 But sometimes it’s nice to have help, and sometimes my favourite writers/podcasters collaborate!!

Here is part 1/3 of a podcast mini-series about defending, putting it here so I can have a copy of it in case it ever gets taken down + wanted to share with everyone some of my findings! (All episodes are available if anyone just wants to listen to them!) Transcript + edits done by me, all mistakes are mine.

Published 6th November 2024, Hockey IQ Podcast: Modern Defensemen (with Will Scouch) Ep #1 - by Hockey's Arsenal, hosted by Greg Revak (apple / spotify / youtube / bonus substack link)

part 2

[START Transcript]

Greg Revak: On the Hockey IQ Podcast today, we open up a new segment: we’re bringing back our favourite Will Scouch. If you’re on the Hockey IQ Newsletter you know his work by now.

Will, good morning. Earlier than most of us probably normally get up, but it’s a good day.

Will Scouch: Yeah, Greg, thanks for having me, it’s a lot of fun. Me and Greg go way back. We’re boys from years ago and I’m excited to hop on the show. I’m a keen listener, keen reader. 

[They exchange pleasantries]

GR: Beautiful. Well, today we’re gonna talk about three concepts. We’re gonna break it into three spots though, so everyone’s gotta come back next week and the week after that.

We’re gonna talk about defensemen, because everyone knows they’re important but how do we actually play the position well?

WS: Yeah, I mean, it’s a position that’s still, to me, being explored; both by, I’d say youth and junior coaches and pro coaches alike. There’s a lot of different ways that you can do it.

I mean, I watch a lot of hockey from around the world, all kinds of different levels. I’ve watched guys develop from 15 to 24 at this point, and just seeing how their games evolve and everything, and how effective various versions of this position is. And I think it’s a very interesting area that’s still being explored in a lot of really interesting ways, for sure.

GR: Yeah, I think back to David Savard; he comes out of the [QMJHL] as this high-flying offensive defenseman, and if we just forgot about the rest of his career and you just saw him today as this great shutdown, defense-first player, you’d be absolutely shocked.

I mean, you think about Rasmus Dahlin — kid didn’t even play full time defenseman until his actual draft year, he was still playing forward a ton. There’s so much to be explored here.

I feel like [to get a lot of] — for you NHL fans — to get a lot of value in the later rounds out of your defensemen, take those offensive players first, and we can find a lot of hidden gems later.

WS: Well, yeah. I mean, actually, I’ve said this a few times but your listeners probably don’t know, but I did a presentation during the pandemic at the Ottawa Hockey Analytics Conference about this topic exactly; how, when you look at the numbers and the defensive value of players in the NHL, I found that there were just as many in the top 50 defensive value of players in the NHL, there were just as many undrafted players as there were second round picks, second and third round picks combined.

So the draft isn’t really a great historical gauge on defensive ability. Offense is a different story from defensive players, which we could probably get into a little bit.

But I find, personally, that evaluating defensemen and projecting defense to the NHL is still really spotty and questionable. And I don’t know, in my line of work, watching a lot of defensemen, a lot of the ones who I think are some of the better defenders kind of go a little unheralded, because a lot of the time you don’t need to be particularly noticeable to be a good defenseman, but scouts are always looking for the noticeable guys.

So it’s a very interesting world and it’s a very interesting thing to pick through, but there’s definitely a lot of case studies you could dig into, and a lot of players you could look at as cases of, “Oh yeah, nobody was really paying a whole lot of attention to them!” or maybe people were thinking about them the wrong way. But if you think about things a little bit outside the box, you might be able to see something really interesting there.

GR: Yeah, so let's dive into why that may be. Classic example would be Lane Hutson, so maybe we'll pick on him a little bit, but I definitely want to talk about Rasmus Ristolainen, because he is an interesting case study that we wrote about on the newsletter.

So where I want to start with this is just modern day defending. How are defensemen defending today versus old times? A lot of times it was the big hit, separate the head from body. The puck’s somewhere, but let's separate the head from the body, and we’ll worry about the puck later — that is going bye-bye.

Every coach I talk to now, they prefer having the puck rather than having a head on a stake. So for me, it comes back to this old saying of, “position before possession.” We're gaining body positioning, we're not so much separating head from body, but puck from player.

All right, so we've got position before possession. It's super valuable in gaining the space that you need to have first whack in a puck or put the puck where you want it, or just push it to a teammate. Just having the idea of owning space and there's no better league at this and no league that values it more than the NHL. If you don't do this well in the NHL, sooner or later, you're going to find yourself out of a job making a heck of a lot less money in a league that probably no one really cares that much about. You want to be in the show, the big lights: you have to value this more than anything.

And this is actually the one thing that I noticed about Hunter McDonald. He's in the Flyers’ system now — he was an overager, but I was like, “This guy is unbelievable!” He’s a huge frame, you can’t miss him out there. He would just get the positioning before possession, and I was like, “Okay, that’s interesting, let me watch him further.”

And I feel like he’s going to be one of those bottom of the lineup guys who, unlikely, made it out of being an overager in the [United States Hockey League], going to college for a few years, but has those little details of a defenseman that you see in modern day play, which is positioning overall, which is an NHL trait to the nth degree.

WS: No, I know. I think I would definitely agree. Those are the players that are always really, really fascinating to me because you look at a guy like Hunter McDonald and the production just isn't amazing. But it doesn't — to me, when you look at defensemen, it almost doesn't really matter. That's kind of a very secondary-slash-bonus style of thing that comes with a player.

I see a lot of defenders every year and it seems like a thing where a lot of them, maybe at the lower levels, there is a little bit more of that “separate the head from the body”-type of player. And I think there are NHL scouts who still gravitate towards those guys but, at the end of the day when it all comes out in the wash, it's a lot of the time the guys that are kind of, I hate to say ”boring”, but just very effective, and just they're always in a good position.

The guy I always reference as a young defenseman who, I think, is just a really, really high-end defensive guy is Kaiden Guhle in Montreal. We're going to talk a little bit about Lane Hutson in a second, but Kaiden Guhle is a guy who, when he was in the junior level, just played such a great, balanced style of defense.

He was a good skater, but he had really good length. He was a guy who didn't just lay the body every single time, but he certainly could if he needed to. It was about his lateral mobility, it was about tracking rushes, keeping inside the dot lines, and preventing chances from inside and leading with his stick, but then finishing with the body if he had the opportunity or the need to do so. And he seemed to have a really good read of just how to do his job really, really well.

And so that's been a lesson for me for sure. He was a really interesting case study a few years ago, and he's become a pretty solid NHL defenseman. I mean, on a team this year that’s kind of struggling defensively I think he’s been one of the brighter spots on that defense group there, [he’s] doing a pretty good job at least suppressing chances against.

GR: I don’t watch as much as you do, prospects, but Guhle I did catch. For me, the play style wasn’t very good. He had elements of it, you could see the flashes, but he was just really brash. His decision making and his reads were quite poor. But the tools were there, and it was like, “Can he adjust?” Which I think he’s done a phenomenal job [of], and I think Montreal is probably the perfect place for him to develop a lot of that.

So I think you're spot on like, “Okay, how does he actually apply?“ Having assets is one thing, having the tools is one thing, but how do we properly apply those assets, those tools that you have in a good way? So I think another piece, for me, is if you do have the speed, is just making sure that you're controlling speed and then you're also keeping small gaps.

And just knowing with my high school team that no one knows what a gap is, let's define that real quick, which is: the difference in space between the forwards and the defensemen. So the space in between, “How much space are you [allowing]?” in hockey term slang. It's underneath you versus on the other side, which is above you or behind you. So, “How much space, what's that gap between D and O?”

(Editor’s note: He says O instead of F here, I assume because the person attacking isn’t always a forward. As in, “How much space between the defenseman and offenceman?”)

So you got the speed, shrink that gap as much as possible. Don't give them the space to operate or work in, or, I even call it the space to think, which [it often becomes] for forwards, especially unsophisticated ones.

WS: Yeah, I mean, that's really the bread and butter of a lot of the position. It's so much of this, like you said, gap control. I actually just did a bit of video work for a really high end player, [an] NHL draft pick playing in Sweden this year, who is producing really well.

But in terms of the defending side of the game, he's not the most incredible skater you've ever seen, he's not the biggest guy in the world. And a big thing that I noticed, that even at the professional level that was kind of a bit of a work in progress, was that gap management. Especially because the footwork wasn't amazing, [he was] keeping his feet a little too stationary, gliding backwards and sort of allowing that gap.

And when you watch the NHL that's the point of the whole exercise, watching the NHL and how they play. Forwards are fast and they're smart, largely. The guys who can score are the guys who know how to get through soft defensive pressure, the guys who know how to find lanes and cross up defensemen, and if you don't have the footwork or the mobility or the reach or all of it — all of the above — to track all that and manage it, then it's going to be a lot tougher to do your job.

But the interesting thing, though, is that there's a lot of different ways that you can get defensive jobs done. That's always been very interesting to me; seeing how different players approach the position in different ways and seeing the efficacy of that come out in the wash, and how their offense balances with their defensive ability. It's a very interesting world to dig into, for sure.

GR: Yeah, I think you've got a rabbit hole there. You just kind of opened up around defensive skating. What do clean feet look like? What does defensive posture look like, that actually allows you to have that kind of mobility?

So we'll leave that for another day. If anyone wants to go check it out on the Hockey IQ Newsletter, they can do so. Just look up defenseman skating development. We've got two good pieces there talking about building and maintaining defensive posture and keeping clean feet, which — actually massive base for anyone.

It allows you to have the proper gap that allows you to kill plays early, and ultimately, it's a lot about just controlling speed. You don't want McDavid building up to full speed. You don't want MacKinnon building up to full speed. You don't want anyone coming up to you at full speed. It's very hard to maintain that kind of speed going backwards [that we] even generate in the first place. 

How do you kill it early? How do you get a hand on someone? Or, my favorite example is just proper pivoting. A guy dumps a puck on you, how are you going back? What does that pivot look like?

I'll let you open that up because at the NHL it's almost too good, where you can't see what a bad example looks like, but you can see it's everywhere.

WS: Yeah, I mean, it's a make or break skill in the NHL. It's where a lot of defensemen die. I mean, it's a cliche at this point to talk about pucks in deep, to talk about [getting] pucks deep in the offensive zone, get below the goal line, dump and chase. People make fun of dump-and-chase kind of stuff. But if your team is built to do it, you can do it.

You can take advantage of defensemen in the NHL who just don't have the speed or the agility or the skating ability that some of your forwards might have. It is a lot easier to skate forwards than it is to skate backwards. That's just, you know, anecdotal, but also pretty factual — you're naturally going forwards.

I think an interesting trend that you're seeing a little bit more of [is] what they would call ‘scooting’. You're the coach; I don't know if that's exactly what the terminology would be, but [it’s getting] your defensemen in the neutral zone, kind of pinching a little bit more and having them skate forwards, tracking play towards the boards.

So it's not necessarily that they're doing their backwards crossovers, it's not necessarily that they're entirely skating backwards, but you see guys who are really talented skaters or do have a lot of quickness driving play to the boards in a more aggressive way than having the play in front of them. It's about them sort of tracking that play laterally, which is an interesting thing I think you're seeing more of now.

I think there are definitely coaches and systems that love to play their defensemen more that way, and the weak side defense can sort of fill between the dot lines for them and sort of leave the weaker side of the ice a little bit more open. That's kind of what I mean. There's a lot of different ways to achieve these kinds of goals, and I think you're seeing a lot of different things popping up to adapt to this. 

In situations where you have a dump and chase or something like that, or just getting pucks in deep or whatever you say, when you have a defenseman who has trouble with their footwork and turning around… Trust me, I'm a defenseman, when I play hockey, I strap on the skates — I play defense myself and that's where I fall apart, when I do fall apart. Which is often. But definitely, when play turns around and I’ve got to change directions or change my area of flow, it can be tricky. And in the NHL, I can only imagine how tricky it can be there. 

GR: Yeah. I mean, a good pivot you're looking at three steps total, like boom-boom-bam and you're there. You watch an amateur game and it could be like five, six, seven, eight chops before [they] finally get going and [it’s] looking like a proper forward stride again. [Or just] getting into a good defensive posture and positioning. It's total scramble mode.

A big one for me, too, is just the direction that you pivot. Do you wait for that offensive player to commit to their lane? It's just a great defensive habit in general, letting the offenceman make the first move. If you're making the first move, you're the one showing your cards. It's kind of like showing your cards first in Poker.

Let them make the decision and then you can pivot into them. Now you can get that position before possession, or at least get a chip on them, slow them down. You can either make it easier for yourself or your partner. So one, there's the clean footwork on the pivot, and two is making sure that we're controlling the speed and we're pivoting properly in the direction that we want to pivot.

There's a ton of times where I see, especially the lower levels, players coming up, they're in a bad spot, they're skating forward, defenseman skating backwards and they just chip it off the boards. And the defenseman is like a dog just following the puck and it ends up in the middle of the ice where the forward actually went. Again, the NHL is the best at this so it's really hard to see bad examples of pivoting into and controlling the space of the opponent.

WS: Yeah. I do a lot of work outside the NHL, and the biggest thing I notice is not necessarily the number of chops it takes, but the amount of time. You can see guys taking two seconds, maybe more, to get themselves turned around, tracking pucks below the goal line.

To me hockey is a game of milliseconds a lot of the time, right? I was working with someone years ago who really shared the idea with me that, in the NHL, generally goals are not scored if you have the puck on your stick for more than either half a second or a second.

I can't remember off the top of my head, but it's so fast in terms of; when you score goals in the NHL, it's when you touch the puck for a very short amount of time in the offensive zone and get a puck on net. And so, if you have guys who take too long — and “too long” might not be very long… If the difference is relatively short at the time you're making those pivots or those changes, but the [opponent has] got a lot more speed than you and you're [taking more] time to then start generating that speed to match the opponent, you're in trouble.

And in my opinion, I think that you want your defensemen to be more assertive. I always fall back on the strategy of; make them make a decision, make them commit. That might imply that you do the committing first, but that's where the importance of footwork and tactics come into question. 

You have to have strong support, whether it's from backchecking forwards or your partner. You want to be able to adapt to quick players who might fake one way, go another, and be able to use your stick or use your feet or both to be a factor regardless of what happens. 

It's very interesting to watch defensemen play. I find it really, really interesting to see the different approaches of different players and especially how they evolve and get into the NHL.

But yeah, I mean, [it’s so pivotal], the skating ability; defensemen who can skate, it unlocks so many doors for their career. If you're an elite level skating defenseman, it just unlocks so many doors that interest me. If you're not, and if that's not a strength of your game, then it can be a big struggle, especially against faster opponents. Even if you're big and physical and pretty good throwing the body or whatever, there's a lot more of the game in the NHL these days. Very, very interesting stuff. 

GR: I think that's actually the perfect segue into someone who, early in his career, threw the body too much and sold out too much on plays that he probably shouldn't: Rasmus Ristolainen.

Great case study, great case study from when [John Tortorella] started working with him to where he is now. Will, I'll send in the link here from the Hockey IQ newsletter so we can track a little bit better with each other. 

I found him to be a fascinating player. High draft pick, 8th overall in 2013. Really pretty, smooth skating, big body — has all of the tools that you would traditionally say, “Yep, that checks [out].” And then you looked at his stat profile and it was just abysmal. His micro stats were terrible. I think the only thing he was good at was D-Zone Retrievals, which, being able to take contact, it was kind of an easy thing for him.

WS: Yeah. I remember watching Ristolainen when he was in junior hockey, because that was the earliest years of me being kind of curious about that side of the game, and I did not really recall that being a premier area of his game.

I remember him being big, but pretty mobile, and has some skill to play around with. He did have a bit of a physical edge to him, but it feels like it was that tail end of an era in the NHL where those big, mean, physical guys were kind of in vogue, and people were kind of curious and needing guys like that. And I guess that's what Buffalo drafted him to be.

I remember being very surprised that he was in the NHL the year he was drafted. It just did not look like it was really working out there. And Buffalo just seems to have been not a great fit for him, they kind of turned him into something that he wasn't, but I do think that he's turned into some sort of serviceable defenseman.

But he, to me, is a great example of one that I always look back on and go, “Man, what if?” Like, what if things went a little bit differently for him? Because there was good stuff there, it's just I feel like the development was focused in the wrong areas.

To me, 65% of the work [is] scouting, and developing — the easy part is drafting good players, the hard part is developing them and bringing them along into being good NHL players.

So to me, if you can find the most amount of things that get in the way of that process being easy, then you're doing a really good job. And with Ristolainen, I feel like in his case they inserted more things to make that journey more difficult and sort of turned him into something that he wasn't, which is always a scary thing for me to think about doing to a player.

But it's not over for him, obviously. He figured it out. Obviously, Tortorella found something for him to do, and he has shown a little bit better. But yeah, he's always been a what-if guy for me.

GR: I always liked how Tortorella, after the 2022-2023 season, was doing his media stuff and he was like “Yeah, he's our most improved player.” You're a guy who's getting paid big bucks — I think he was making five million plus that year, still is, probably — and even him, he was like, “I was just bad the first half. And then around Christmas break, I started getting going. The second half was much better.”

Basically, the first half, they were just trying to rebuild his defensive game, and this is true for anything. Zach Benson's another good example of this. If you can't play defense in the NHL, you're going to be out quick. Benson can play defense despite being — I think they list them at five foot 10, but there's no way.

WS: Yeah, no, no. I know. He's a little guy, but he's another great example of a player where I, in my work, I do not care how big you are. I just care about how you play. Even in the NHL. And I feel like Benson's a really, really good example of that; a guy who, just forechecking alone is a really… The easiest way to defend is if he can cause turnovers in the opposing team's offensive zone, a guy like Zach Benson does that extremely well.

And if he needs to track guys through the neutral zone and backcheck, he'll do it, and he does it really well, and he does it at a speed that I found to be projectable to the NHL. And again, that's another one where I was a little surprised to see him in the NHL so fast, but he didn't really look out of place there.

He's had a bit of a slow start this season, but just a really, really talented player, and one where you kind of do look at and go, “Yeah, these smaller guys can definitely defend.” They just — the expectations are a little bit higher, and maybe for good reason, but he checks all the boxes for sure.

GR: Yeah. So for Rasmus (Ristolainen), there's two big things that, when I dug into this, that Torts was working at. At this point, I was so intrigued [that] I was tracking every single time Torts spoke and Rasmus spoke to the media. So I was like, “I wonder what they're actually doing?” Which, Torts can be tight-lipped, but he gives it away if you follow long enough.

The big one was just inside, like too much, he was finding himself, Rasmus was finding himself on the outside. So whether that be outside the dots, outside on bad ice, for whatever reason, or just finding yourself outside, like losing defensive side positioning to the offensive player.

If you finish contact, but now you're on the wall and your player's got to step to the net, that's trouble. There's a great, great clip the other night featuring, I think it was (Aliaksei) Protas [who] ended up scoring the goal and K’Andre Miller of the New York Islanders. So Caps — Rangers, not Islanders — Rangers… Where [Miller] went in soft, didn't really take positioning, got beat back to net, and Protas just put out a stick and just tapped it in, Igor Shesterkin never had a chance.

A similar idea of; okay, good, maybe you got some contact, you tried to make the stop, but you still need to maintain defensive side positioning. You still need to finish on the inside. So if you're doing contact, you can't overreach.

You just can't do that. You have to stay in good positioning.

And the second piece was just, finishing with contact to get stops, like stopping movement. Offensive play is a lot about movement, and defensive play is about stopping movement, AKA getting stops. So he would maybe make a play, or get a poke check, but the puck was still moving and could be easily on the other team's stick. 

So how do you make sure you're always staying in good positioning? Staying on the inside, as Torts put it. Or the other piece, which is getting stops, or finishing with contact — but smartly, not chasing the contact for contact’s sake? Being tactful in your play.

I feel like Risto really just learned how to play defense smartly. He was actually thinking and being intentional about what he was doing, rather than like, “I see a puck and a player, I'm going to go end that!” And then, boom, in the big scheme of things, it’s a net negative. Even though at the moment, it may have, especially to him — otherwise he wouldn't make the play — seemed like a positive, really it was a negative for the team.

WS: Well, that's the interesting thing too, going back to talking about junior players and the context in the draft and how defensive players might go a little bit underreported or undervalued in a sense.

I see this all the time, especially with North American defensemen, especially with Canadian ones, but there are definitely players who everybody talks about how good they are defensively, everybody talks about how solid they are. They're big, they're physical, they're mean, blah, blah, blah. But then when you watch things in detail, it's this sort of Ristolainen-style thing. You're talking about K’Andre Miller where it's like, they're along the boards, they're doing the thing along the boards, but they're losing.

They're allowing guys to get low on them, get through them, and even in the junior level, right? What good is it if you're trying to pin a guy against the boards and they give you a little shove, crouch down a little bit, chip the puck three feet out from you, you don't adapt to that, they get three feet of space on you, throw it out in front of the net, and boom, you got yourself a scoring chance, right? I see that all the time.

It's the focus on the body and not focus on the turnover, turning that possession back over, that really seems to be a tough lesson for a lot of defensemen to get over. I find that a lot of defensemen from the age of 18 to 23, in the grand scheme of things, their style of play doesn't drastically shift all that often.

And so, when I see things like that happening, I'm going, okay, I gotta either hope that this guy puts in the time in the gym and becomes, just, a strength nut, and pins that guy to the boards so they can't do anything, or they figure out a way to get into those situations, take a step back, chip at the puck. Really battle for the puck rather than focus on the guy.

Because I've seen it so many times with guys who are bigger and more physical, they apply it in a way where I feel like coaches will go, “Wow, look at you go, you're playing hard, you're playing the thing!” But then they escape, this opponent might escape, and create a little bit of space for themselves. And again, this is a game of inches, it's a game of a couple of feet, and every inch matters.

So in some cases, yeah, you get those situations where guys like Ristolainen, yeah, you're doing the thing, people clip the hits, people clip the physical play, but then five seconds later, someone's got some space on you and they generate a scoring chance. And so what do you really value, right? Personally, fewer scoring chances would be ideal.

GR: I love it. Last piece to wrap this up, because I think it'll go well into our next piece, which is point play. Shorting the zone.

I was able to find some phenomenal clips and do some photos of this for the newsletter. But the concept of; if you're watching a game in the NHL, if you can see all five of the people trying to break the puck out, low in the zone… A lot of it, you think about the NHL today, is like a swarm. We're going to do close support. I'm going to try to crowd the puck out.

A good way to respond to that is to short the zone, which basically means your defensemen, instead of hanging out at the blue line, are going to go into the offensive zone. And they're going to start with small gaps, they're going to be [at the] top of the circles, if not a little bit lower.

Tortorella is another big fan of this, so you can see it with the Flyers a lot, too. I would say [Sheldon] Keefe is another example of a coach who does this a ton. So you saw a lot in Toronto, now you'll see a lot more in New Jersey, which is  the perfect d-core to make all of this work. So I think Devils are going to be good for — that's going to be a great fit.

But just the idea of crowding in the space, setting small gaps, so when you do start defending, you can either cut a play off early — it's an easy pinch there if you don't have to go very far — you can cut it off. Or, 2; create a turnover in a much better spot than what is in your own zone. Why not make it in the o-zone? So from a positioning standpoint, phenomenal place to start, good way to kill plays early.

Before they can get going, before the team can build speed, and just being able to put yourself in a good spot to take advantage both from a defensive standpoint, but offensive standpoint.

WS: Yeah, I love when I see this being deployed. I think, again, I'm a geek, like I'm a math guy, and even just thinking about the numbers here, it makes such a difference if you think about it.

The offensive zone from blue line to goal line is 64 feet. So you're looking at the difference between a guy standing at the blue line being maybe 75 feet from the net or at the top of the face-off circle where you might be 20 feet closer, maybe 20, 25 feet closer. So you're cutting down the time at which you give the defense to adapt, the goaltender to adapt. You're cutting that time down by a third-ish, a quarter to a third. I'm ballparking here, but that automatically is just based on where you are on the ice.

If you can compress the offensive zone on your opponent, you're laughing. The second thing I wanted to mention here is this is, again, why skating ability and quickness and speed are so important to me. Because it is objectively a better position to be in when you're in that position — closer to the top of the face-off circles for your defensemen.

But if you do have a situation where the opponent has possession of the puck you have to get set up, you have to cover that gap, you have to cover for yourself, or you have to have some sort of system in place where a winger can cover for you if you're caught in the offensive zone. Ideally, you have your defensemen who can wheel up, get some speed going, get positioned well to counter that attack, and have a system that can swarm whoever has that puck in the offensive zone.

I think it's a really interesting trend for sure. It's a simple little thing, it's a concept that you see definitely a lot more now than you used to, but I'm all about it. It just makes sense mathematically, and it plays into exactly the styles of player that I always look for: guys who do pinch a little bit more aggressively, but have the mobility and the skating ability to cover for themselves.

I would rather have a player who tries something creative, or tries some sort of play that could lead to a high scoring chance, but may relinquish some space on the ice, but has the ability to cover for themselves.

And I can at least as a coach, rely on them — not that I'm a coach — but rely on them to cover for themselves. To go, okay, I can rely on them to try these things, because I know that if it doesn't maybe go their way, which happens in hockey all the time, I'm not going to be upset at this player, but I know that I want them to backcheck, cover for it, because I know they're capable of it.

I think that that's sort of the trade off that you have to live with, but I'm totally cool with it.

GR: All right, so we're going to call this end of the day on some modern day defending, and we'll pick up on point play in episode two.

[END Transcript.]

part 2 <- convenient link at the bottom <3

[fruvittea]

whispers in the rain ✧˚ · . part seven

— ✺ pairing: jay x reader x jake

— ✺ genre: slice of life, angst, suggestive, fluff, childhood best friend, love triangle, college au, slow burn

— ✺ synopsis: jay is your childhood best friend. that’s all he will ever be. a summer with jay and his friends changes how you feel for him when jake comes into your life. and jay begins to think that was a mistake. — ✺ chapter summary: things have been on your mind lately and jungwon and sunoo take things into their own hands taking you out for a good time. the day ends with deep conversations and rekindling.

— ✺ warnings: some of the members are aged up since there is mention of consuming alcohol in this fic!!

— ✺ word count: 3.1k

— ✺ authors note! thank you for your patience, this is the first fic I am writing and it has been so fun, I decided to change things up and include a cute little day where reader spends time with two different people for a change! thank you again for reading!!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | ...

Being in the presence of both Jay and Jake was tiring. So you went inside to take some time to yourself. You’re curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when Sunoo plops down next to you.

“You, me, Jungwon. Ice cream and a thrift shop run and perhaps watching the sunset with your new besties,” he announces, already tugging at your arm.

Jungwon appears in the doorway, arms crossed but smiling softly. “You could use a break. We’ll be your emotional support for the day.”

Break? Have they really noticed that things have been on your mind?

You laugh and agree, the promise of a low-pressure outing too tempting to pass up. 

You laugh and nod. “Okay, okay, I’m in.”

You have yet to hang out with some of the group separately that wasn’t Jay or Jake so this was quite exciting. You always enjoyed Jungwon and Sunoo’s company. As you get up to grab your jacket, Sunoo suddenly turns to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ll go tell Jay that you’re going out with us. He’s been hovering, right?” he adds, almost to himself, though it’s more of a statement than a question.

You blink, a bit caught off guard. “Sunoo, don’t—”

But before you can protest, Sunoo’s already halfway down the hall, heading straight for Jay’s room. You sigh, hoping this won’t turn into a bigger deal than it needs to be. 

A few moments later, Sunoo walks back into the room, Jay trailing behind him, a hesitant expression on his face. You could tell that he might’ve not wanting you to go, for whatever reason. He was being a real downer these days. (And it may or may not have been because of you and Jake hanging out). 

“You’re coming with us, Y/n,” Sunoo announces, voice light as he steps to the side. “We’re heading out for ice cream and a thrift shop run, then maybe a sunset hangout.” He throws a quick look at Jay, who’s still standing in the doorway, his arms crossed.

Jay looks at you, his expression unreadable. “Are you sure you want to go now? You looked like you had a lot on your mind earlier.” 

You  smile, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m good. Just need a little time away. I think it will be nice with Jungwon and Sunoo, my new besties.”

Sunoo, coming to your rescue, steps forward quickly. “It’s fine, Dad. Let her go. It’s just us hanging out, no big deal.” His tone is light but firm, clearly trying to ease the situation before it escalates. You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. 

“Did you just call me da-” But before the two of your could hear Jay’s response, Sunoo lightly grabs your wrist and begins to pull you towards the door, a knowing smile on his face. “Come on, Y/n. We’ve got a full day of ice cream ahead.”

As you step outside, you hear footsteps behind you. You turn to see Jungwon approaching Jay, who’s still standing in the doorway, his body tense. Jungwon stops beside him, his expression calm but attentive.

“You’re worried,” Jungwon observes softly, glancing back at you and Sunoo, who are now on the way down the stairs. “But you need to let her breathe, Jay.”

Jay runs a hand through his hair, frustration clouding his face. “Well what are you two up to—”

“We just want to spend the day with her.,” Jungwon cuts him off gently, his tone firm but not harsh. “We know you have feelings for her, honestly finally, it’s been years. But c'mon you need to let her breathe. If she likes Jake then she likes him. If she is figuring her feelings out, let her. You’re her best friend, act like it.”  

Jay’s jaw tightens slightly, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he lowers his gaze, looking conflicted. Had he really been making you feel bad? 

“Just… cool down, alright? Let her have some space,” Jungwon adds, his voice softening as he places a reassuring hand on Jay’s shoulder. “She’ll come to you when she’s ready. But for now, let her have this time to herself.”

Jay doesn’t respond immediately, but his posture shifts slightly, as if Jungwon’s words are beginning to sink in. He watches you for a moment before exhaling, his shoulders slumping a little.

“Yeah,” Jay mutters, almost to himself. “I’ll… I’ll cool down.”

Jungwon gives him a small nod, his smile encouraging, before turning to follow you and Sunoo.

—

“So I saw this cute ice cream place in downtown with really cool flavors. I think we should go there, it’s called Sundae’s.” Jungwon puts the location in his phone and follows the route. You in the passengers seat and Sunoo sitting in the back. To your surprise the car ride with the two was so pleasant, Sunoo just singing along to the music in the back and Jungwon sparking up a casual conversation with you.

“You know I don’t think we’ve hung out before.” Jungwon’s head turned to you briefly before going back to the road. 

“I actually was thinking the same, it’s nice that I’m going out with the two of you.” You play with you fingers a little. 

“Yah, it’ll be fun!” Sunoo chimes in making you smile. 

At the ice cream shop Sunoo insists on ordering first, going for an extravagant and colorful flavor. Jungwon watches with an amused smile before opting for a simple green tea scoop. When it’s your turn, both boys playfully judge your choice—earl gray tea.

“What are you a grandma?” Sunoo judges before taking a spoonful of his ice cream.

“Hey! In fact I like earl gray, it tastes good.” You shrug him off, continuing to eat your scoop.

“It’s a solid pick in my opinion.” Jungwon adds in. 

The three of you sat down on a bench around the corner of the ice cream shop. Jungwon invested in his ice cream and Sunoo trying to pry out facts about you.

“Well what do you want to know?” You turn to him curious about his response.

“Mmm how did you and Jay become friends, because in my opinion I don’t see how you enjoy him.” You let out a laugh using a napkin to wipe the melted ice cream from your fingers. 

“We met in elementary school, he was always teasing me for not being able to color in the lines. I remember looking over at his paper and it was equally as bad. But anyways he would always tease me and I would do it back. We kind of just stuck together even after elementary and middle school. Now that I come to think of it I don’t know how we became friends because of how we started.” You continue to eat your ice creams reminiscing when it was just the two of you.

“That sounds like him…always teasing or nitpicking.” Jungwon lets out an airy laugh. “I mean rooming with him freshman year at the dorms, he would tell me to do my laundry a certain way, I guess he has always been like that huh?” 

"Yeah he has, I think that’s one of the things I like about him though, it’s his odd way of caring I guess.” You don’t look at any of the two boys afraid they’ll see right through you and your feelings. 

—

By the time you three finish ice cream, Jungwon is already inputting the thrift store into his maps. It was a short drive down the street but the three of you insisted on walking in order to walk off the ice cream. 

Sunoo immediately dove into the racks, pulling out the most outrageous outfits he can find and making you and Jungwon model them. At one point, he holds up a neon jacket, declaring it your “new vibe.”

Jungwon shakes his head, picking out a simple but stylish sweater for you instead. “This is more your speed,” he says with a small smile.

“Actually yeah, this for once is something I would wear.” You take the sweater from Jungwon and go to try it on. It was the perfect size, not too baggy and it was a nice creme color. 

Sunoo rolls his eyes but agrees, muttering about Jungwon’s “boring” taste.

Hours go by and you all go your separate ways in the store, actually taking the act of thrifting seriously You buy the sweater along with a thin green cardigan, Jungwon buys a leather jacket and Sunoo also finds a couple sweaters to purchase as well. The three of you proudly talk about the luck you had in the shop. 

—

As the three of you walk back to the car you hear your stomach growl. Before you could even open your mouth to tell them you were hungry Jungwon put a place into his phone. “Don’t worry, I was also getting hungry in the store, tacos sound good?” You and Sunoo agree and Jungwon starts the car heading to the spot. 

It was a nice little area, some chairs and tables set up with people eating in a parking lot with a taco truck up front. You all ordered takeout because Sunoo wanted to go to a  nearby park that had a pretty view of the ocean. Sitting atop a picnic blanket you three eat your tacos raving about how good they were.

Sunoo marvels at the ocean while Jungwon uses the left over napkins to make paper cranes.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” you ask, watching him with fascination.

He shrugs. “My sister taught me. It’s calming.”

Sunoo leans in with a smirk. “It’s also his way of avoiding deep conversations.”

Jungwon glares at him, but there’s no malice in it. “Says the guy who changes the subject every time someone asks about his love life.”

Their playful banter makes you smile, and for the first time in days, you feel a genuine lightness in your chest.

The day winds down with the three of you still at the park watching as the sun begins to set. Sunoo talks about his dreams and aspirations, his usual humor tinged with rare sincerity. Jungwon listens intently, occasionally offering quiet words of encouragement.

At some point, Sunoo excuses himself to “explore the area,” leaving you and Jungwon alone.

The silence is comfortable, filled with the sound of rustling leaves and distant laughter.

“You seemed happier today,” Jungwon says after a while, glancing at you.

You nod. “Thanks to you and Sunoo. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

He smiles softly, his eyes warm. “You’ve grown to become important to us. Don’t forget that.”

The sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows as you, Jungwon, and Sunoo sit on the grassy hill, watching the colors of the sky change. Sunoo has his legs stretched out, lazily reclining against a tree, while Jungwon is next to you, eyes focused on the distant view. There’s a comfortable silence between the three of you, but it feels like there’s something unspoken hovering in the air.

After a few minutes, Jungwon clears his throat, glancing at Sunoo before turning his attention to you.

“Hey, y/n,” he starts, his voice casual but there’s a hint of curiosity underneath. “Can we ask you something?”

You turn your head slightly, meeting his eyes. “Sure, what’s up?”

Sunoo, who's been unusually quiet, perks up, looking at you with a sly smile. “Have you noticed any… tension between Jay and Jake recently?”

You freeze for a moment, the question slightly catching you off guard. You had a feeling the two would ask, afterall they are Jay and Jake’s friends. Plus t he tension between the two had been palpable lately, and though you’ve tried to ignore it, it’s impossible not to feel the weight of it when you’re around them. You glance down at your hands, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sweater.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” you admit, sighing softly. “It’s a little hard to ignore.”

Jungwon watches you carefully. “Do you think it’s something serious? Or just a misunderstanding?”

You pause, trying to sort out your own feelings before speaking. “I’m not sure,” you murmur. “But I think it’s about more than just little things. I’ve never seen them like this before.”

There’s a heavy silence that falls over you, and you know both of them are watching you intently, waiting for you to continue. Sunoo leans forward, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a serious, almost concerned expression.

“Can we ask you something else?” Sunoo asks. 

“Yeah go ahead.” You nod.

“Do you…have feelings for Jay? Or did you ever have feelings for him?” His tone was soft almost hesitant as if he was debating on asking you about Jay.

You feel your heart race, a flush creeping up your neck. Jungwon, who’s always been quiet and thoughtful, looks at you with gentle curiosity, giving you the space to respond. But you can tell they’re both waiting for an honest answer.

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of the question settle in your chest. “I… yeah, I guess I always did,” you admit, the words coming out in a whisper. “Jay’s been my best friend for so long. I think I had a crush on him pretty much my whole life.”

The confession hangs in the air, and Sunoo’s eyes widen for a moment, before he offers a knowing, if somewhat sympathetic, smile. “That makes sense. It’s obvious how close you two are. But…?”

You glance down, unable to meet their eyes. “But I think it’s fading,” you whisper. “The crush, I mean.” You pause, your fingers tugging at the edges of your sweater, unsure of how to continue. “It’s hard to admit, but… I feel like something’s different now. I don’t know if I’m holding on to something that’s not really there anymore.”

Jungwon shifts slightly, leaning forward to look at you with a softer gaze. “It’s okay to feel that way. You’re not wrong for letting go of something that doesn’t feel right anymore.”

You nod, taking a deep breath, but the guilt creeps in. You feel like you're betraying something, or someone. "But I also don’t want to let go,” you admit, the words tumbling out. “I feel guilty about it, but when I’m with Jake, I don’t feel that way. He makes me feel good. He makes me laugh, and he listens to me. He’s different, and... I enjoy spending time with him. And with Jay too."

You trail off, unsure of what else to say. The emotions feel tangled, and you’re still processing everything that’s happening between you, Jay, and Jake. But you could tell the two boys on either side of you were listening intently, figuring out what to sway next. Sure it admitting these thoughts and feelings you’ve been having was not what you were expecting to do today, it was still nice to be able to release the weight and let somebody in. 

Sunoo’s voice breaks through the whirlwind of your thoughts. “It’s okay to like both of them. You’re not doing anything wrong by being honest with yourself,” he says, his tone calm but supportive. “Feelings don’t follow a strict path. It’s complicated, but that’s life.”

Jungwon, who’s been quietly listening, nods in agreement. “And whatever you decide to do, we’re here for you. It’s okay to take your time and figure out what you want. No one’s rushing you.”

Jake and Jay are, you want to say but refrain. Could the tension really be because of you? You finally look at them both, their expressions soft and understanding. For the first time today, you feel like you can breathe, knowing that someone—two people—are there to support you no matter what. You smile weakly, grateful for their patience.

“Thanks, guys,” you say, your voice full of sincerity. “It means a lot.”

The three of you sit in silence again, but this time, it’s comforting. There are no expectations, no pressure to figure things out immediately. Just the quiet support of friends who understand that life—and love—aren’t always as simple as they seem.

As the night continues the three of you decide to make your way back to the house. 

-

Opening the door to your room you place your bag from the thrift store onto the ground. Laundry can wait. Tomorrow I’ll do laundry, maybe Jay will end up taking over. You lay down on your bed and scroll through your phone until you hear a faint knock on the door. 

“Can I come in?” 

“Yeah.” 

The door opens and Jay appears. He was in his pajamas, his hair messy. You look at him and you couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat a little faster. He closes the door and sits at the edge of your bed. You were sitting against the headboard watching his every move. 

“How was your day out with Jungwon and Sunoo?” He asked.

“I actually had a really good time, I haven’t hung out with the two of them before and I really enjoyed it. They are really good friends Jay, I’m glad you found them in college.” Jay can’t help but smile. You always had something nice to say and that was something he really appreciated about you, something he really liked about you. 

“I’m sorry for seeming like a dad…Is it bad that I sometimes just want you to myself?” He paused, realizing what he said. “Li-like you know because we were friends first.” He let out a nervous laugh scratching the back of his neck. Shit. 

You play with the sheets, unsure of what to say, but if you don’t say anything it’ll be even more awkward. 

“I’ve felt that way too Jay, it’s okay, but hey I mean we’re getting older, things like this do happen.” You give him a smile. It is true you have definitely felt that way, especially when with his girl friends in high school. But of course you left that small detail out. 

“Yeah…” Jay’s eyes focus on the sheets of the bed. He didn’t want to leave just yet. Neither did you want him to, but you both didn’t say anything. Instead you both kept the conversation going little by little. You showed him your thrift haul and he told you about the book that he was  able to start that day. It was nice, like the two of you were back in routine again. 

You and Jay both ended up falling asleep on your bed, him curled up by the foot of your bed, you under the sheets diagonally across. 

✴︎🪷𓈒͏ུུ̑̑. ཉ — by @fruvittea

🏷️ tag list: @kyunlov @kawaiijellyfishtimetravelr

💌 pm me or comment if you want to be on the tag list !!

[heybaetae]

hi friends! 👋🏻

i am here with my little 2024 gif wrapped after being tagged by @jkvjimin, @cordiallyfuturedwight, @yooboobies, @taehyunghobi, @jinstronaut, and @btsjk-biased. i didn't expect so many tags, so i appreciate you all for including me and wanting to see me recollect some of the work i shared this year. i'll do so under the cut and leave comments wherever i see fit.

i've seen a couple different ways people have done this, so i'll do a variation of both. i'll list my favorite vs. most popular set per each month + some honorable mentions that i liked or were particularly proud of. feel free to go show any of the mentioned posts some love just as i plan to do with everyone else's some time after i post this!

JANUARY

my favorite - vmin holding hands ↳ because i'm Me and they are insufferable

most popular - thankful taehyung

honorable mentions - jimin at home, koo sprout

FEBRUARY 

my favorite - jikook...playing? ↳ i was mostly just continuing to test out panning gifs when i made this, but i liked it a lot because what the fuck is wrong with jimin

most popular - blue & grey yoongi in vegas

honorable mentions - hobi backstage, exhausted jimin

MARCH 

my favorite - bts debut solo albums as iphones ↳  this was the most labor intensive set i'd made probably since the first set in my social media series (aka the instagram feed...part two next year? i've already outlined the templates but hobi is holding me back) and mayhaps the most disappointing as far as steady engagement goes. it dropped off pretty fast and it really killed my spirit ngl...but we ball. i appreciate everyone who wrote really nice things in the tags <3

most popular - fri(end)s

honorable mentions - fri(end)s live film

APRIL 

my favorite - vmin stretching

most popular - favorite jungkook smiles ↳ i think this was requested by an anonymous person, but it sat in my drafts for many months and i thought "oh this could be an endless series for all the tannies if i'm ever running low on comp ideas". then i finally published it on a slow day and just never made another one. maybe some day lol

honorable mentions - ethereal jungkook, rawr xD jungkook

MAY 

i didn't post anything in may. actually, everything i posted in april was an old draft because i took a break during april and may (in other words: i ran away with my tail between my legs after the iphone set lmaooo)

JUNE

my favorite - life goes on vmin self-cam ↳ act surprised. i can't believe they let this sit on a hard drive for four years and then dumped it on me out of no where during festa, are you fucking crazy

most popular - jimin being small and cute

honorable mentions - smeraldo garden marching band, dino wrists jungkook

JULY 

my favorite - jungkook knows he's cute ↳ i also posted the before and after coloring of this because...girl 😭

most popular - taehyung filling the room with negative energy ↳ i would see that video edit all the time and was like...i need this as big gifs. lowkey the quality kinda slays

honorable mentions - ytc in busan jimin

AUGUST

my favorite - happy birthday jeon jungkook ↳ in my timezone his birthday starts at 8am on august 31st, so that's why i include this with august because it appears within that month in my archive. anyway this was fun and experimental and i'm glad i got it out of my system since i always wanted to try the google theme. i ended up merging it into the social media series because of the templates, but that was clearly a stupid move because if something says happy birthday in the caption people tend to abruptly stop reblogging it when the birthday is over so... 🤡

most popular - jimin struggling in connecticut

honorable mentions - sunscreen jungkook, giggly jikook, raggedy brothers, vmin in jeju

SEPTEMBER 

my favorite - maknae line sharing tae's glasses

most popular - park "believable ass" jimin

honorable mentions - jikook on the train, maknae line love gestures, jungkook being cussed out by jimin

OCTOBER 

my favorite - happy birthday park jimin ↳ another birthday flop but it's so cute

most popular - vmin in the car

honorable mentions - jikook clowning in the barracks

my recap stops there as i have nothing to show for november and december (with the exception of the yeontan tribute set and what i'll be posting for tae's birthday) as i stopped giffing at the end of october.

you can take a look back at everything else i made in my archive here :)

i don't know what the new year will hold for me as far as posting content goes, but thank you very much to those who never stopped supporting my work this year and the last four years since i started this blog. i've had a lot of feelings this year about my place as a gifmaker here and i've struggled a bit reckoning with the low engagement despite how much i know my work is loved by those who matter and never fail to let me know. i am working on reminding myself of this and i offer the same sentiment to anyone else experiencing the same feelings. you all deserve 100x more than what you get back.

for now though, my queue is gonna continue posting for me for a while. if i can get myself out of this funk by the time bts comes back, then i hope to provide whatever i can when the time feels right.

i think nearly everyone has been tagged to do this by now, but i’ll tag (unless you’ve already done it, just lmk or ignore me) @jung-koook, @kimtaegis, @btsiu, @namchyoon, @kookjinnies, @rjshope and whoever else wants to do this, please do and forward it to me or put it in my tracked tag so i can reblog it!

i love you all. happy new year 💜

[karasuno-planet]

Hi can i request a love triangle between Tanaka and nishinoya where the reader is a manager whose really sweet, the rest of the details is up to you. I'm also a big fan of your work!

a/n: wowowow it's been forever since I've written on here but it's winter break and I saw this request and want to revive the blog :) sorry it took me so long and thanks for reading! (fyi I am really in the mood to write for noya so if you have any requests plz send them my way!)

wc: 930

genre: just silly fluff

fem!manager!reader x noya and tanaka

Anything To Impress You

(gif not mine)

The Karasuno boy's volleyball team certainly never failed to make an impression. In fact, in hindsight Kiyoko's confusing words as you accepted to come along with her to learn about possibly becoming a team manager were really a much needed warning. As you walked into the gym for the first time, practically glued to Kiyoko's side, the boys seemed very nice at first, and honestly, a little timid. That is, until a little spikey-haired boy and his loud accomplice came walking in holding armfuls of volleyballs, until they suddenly were dropped to the gym floor along with the boys jaws.

"A new girl, really??" The spikey-haired boy exclaimed.

"Fresh blood!!"

Then they approached you like they had never seen a girl before, eyes wide and mouths wide open, pushing each other to try to introduce themselves first.

"Nishinoya Yuu! Guardian deity of this team, but you can call me-"

"Tanaka Ryunosuke!!"

Just as you were gathering yourself to speak, Kiyoko hushed them. "Behave yourselves.."

And just like that, they stood up straight, quieted down, pressed four fingers to their foreheads to salute Kiyoko and return to the rest of the team. But they had already found out everything they needed to know from your sweet demeanor and your failure to immediately shut them down. As they left, you caught Nishinoya mumbling "No promises.."

⚡︎⚡︎⚡︎

That was only the beginning of the competition. Once they learned your name, it was about every other word from their mouths.

"Y/N! Did you see that kill?!"

"Not as impressive as my serve receive... wait wait! Does Y/n know rolling thunder??"

And it was commonplace for them to try to keep you after practice for as long as they could. They'd volunteer to help you put the net away, and as soon as you knew it Tanaka's arm was slung around your shoulder, "So it's about time someone told you about your welcome-to-the-team party."

"What?" You looked at him, confused.

"You know, your welcome party. We always have those... Anyways, it's this weekend, at Noya's house."

Suddenly Kageyama scoffed as he finished picking volleyballs up off the court, "Do not go to either of their houses.."

Noya pouted, "C'mon man!! You're no fun. And no longer invited!"

Kageyama ignored him while Tanaka chuckled, "Fine, you caught us, no party...at least come get ice cream with us tonight?"

They turned and looked at you with pleading eyes, as if the teenage boys in front of you were convinced they were puppy dogs. But you didn't really have the heart to turn them down for something as small as ice cream, "Sure."

They lit up, throwing their bags together and getting out of the gym doors as fast as they possibly could, conveniently turning the lights off on Kageyama as they left.

After they finished fighting over who got to pay for your ice cream (They split it after realizing neither of them brought very much money), the night was relatively peaceful. Sure they spoke over each other, but whenever you had something to say they quieted as if listening to a sacred whisper, and kicked each other incessantly under the table when they wanted the other to shut up to ask you something else about yourself. They wanted to know everything.

⚡︎⚡︎⚡︎

Since the night you spent with them, their treatment towards you has only become more pronounced. You saw them in the hallways at school, even trying to catch your attention through the window when they passed by the classes you were in, and you knew they were bragging to the rest of the team about the attention you gave them.

They wrote cheeky messages on your locker in dry-erase marker, signing their initials underneath in case you were to suspect anyone else. And when you went along with the team for away games, they were downright vicious to any guy that looked your way.

"Did you see that idiot Loserkawa looking at y/n today?" Tanaka grumbled after a tournament match they played while Aoba Johsai played on the next court over.

"Tsk, least he didn't try anything. That's for the the better I think, y/n likes short guys anyways," Noya bragged.

"WHAT? That's not true! She never said that!"

"Did too! I totally heard it!"

"Well- Well I heard she likes guys with reaaal short hair... what do you think of that Noya?" Tanaka ran his hands through Nishinoya's hair, making a buzzing sound.

Sugawara laughed, "Don't joke about buzzing his hair- he might just do it.."

"And run the risk of looking like Tanaka? No way!"

While overhearing this conversation, you silently exhale after hearing Noya deny that he was going to buzz his hair. How ridiculous would it be to see them both running around like that...

⚡︎⚡︎⚡︎

As you walked to practice the next day, your attention was immediately grabbed by the sounds of muffled laughter coming from the gym and Asahi standing outside.

"Warning before you go in, y/n, Noya and Tanaka have, um... 'something real important' to confess to you?"

"Oh, uh, thanks Asahi," You say as you walk in, admittedly a little nervous. What could they have to say to you that causes such a commotion? Asahi clearly looked uncomfortable.

Upon your entrance, everyone quieted and Noya and Tanaka stood up straight, taking a breath and closing their eyes as if they had to work up the courage to speak. Your stomach began to turn, worried about what they could be thinking.

Simultaneously, they opened their eyes and burst out, "WHICH ONE OF US IS BETTER LOOKING??"

"Oh my god."

[masterlist]

[starrieangel]

🩷 Curly helps reader regress 🌻

Request by Anon: “How about Curly with a reader who wants to regress but struggles to due to responsibilities and stress, And Curly just, gently coaxing reader into relaxing and taking a break from all of that”

Features: CG! Curly x Little! Reader

Tags: Fluff, Female Reader, Age Regression, omg this is way longer than expected, my Curly bias is showing

Notes: I used Daddy, Papa/Papa Bear, Teddy/Teddy Bear as cg names for Curly (cause he's my f/o and that's what I would call him alskxndkslsnxhkz thanks for requesting this, it’s very self indulgent..!!!)

rbs appreciated !! ☆ ~

Curly begins to notice that you aren't regressing as often as you used to. You've been extra busy with work or school, just general life stuff, and it seems to be taking up a lot of your mental energy

Normally he could get at least a giggle out of you each night, getting you to either regress or just relax into a calmer state by tickling you or playing with your plushies or offering to read you a bedtime story- just anything that he knows you'll enjoy

But lately when you go to bed, you don't seem to smile as much. It's like your responsibilities are weighing you down, sucking all the joy from you :(

Teddy Curly cannot have his little princess be so gloomy..! It kills him to see you so clearly stressed, but he's not really sure what to do at first..

Until one day, you come home from work/school, and Curly insists you let him take care of you.

“I know you haven't been feeling well, Princess, so I was hoping maybe today could be a.. little day? I've seen how stressed you are and, I just really want to help you feel better.”

“I don't know, Curly, I haven't really been in the best mood lately...”

“That's what I'm talking about, just... let me help you, okay? And, if I'm being honest, I really miss my little girl, too.” He says the last part sheepishly, looking down at his shoes as he says it.

You think about it for a minute before reluctantly agreeing. He sighs a breath of relief before his lips crack into a shy smile. 

“See, there's my good girl..” He wraps you in a hug, running his fingers thru your hair. “Now tell Daddy what's wrong. Please, bunny?”

You're already starting to melt a bit, feeling his strong arms around you, and hearing his handsome voice saying your special title for him.

You tell him what's been happening at work/school that has you so upset, he's resting his chin on your head as he adds “uh-huh, I hear you” or “I know, baby, that sounds hard” you can feel tears prick your eyes a bit as you near the end of your story, your speech sounding more and more like your little voice. 

He cups your face in his hands, rubbing his calloused thumb against your cheek. “Thank you for telling me that, baby. It's all going to be okay now, though. Papa's got you.” He wipes away a stray tear from your cheek.

“C-can we start that little day now?” You say, the weight of grown up life was beginning to be too much.

He chuckles a bit, thinking of how cute you are looking up at him with big wet eyes. “Of course, baby.” And without warning he picks you up so that you're resting on his hip, arms around his neck. You start to feel even more little- He’s so strong that he can easily pick you up like you're a baby /)(\

“How does a nice warm bath sound, darling?” He says in his soft voice. He presses a kiss to your cheek, really rubbing it in so that his facial hair scratches against you. You giggle from his stubble tickling your cheek- he always knows how to make you smile ♡

You nod your head, and he goes to draw you a bath ~

I think I will do a part two for this since it's kinda long!! Part 2 will have Curly giving regressed reader a bubble bath and putting them to bed 😊 Thank you for reading! and leaving requests :) sorry if I don't get to all of them, I try to only write for fun and not force anything, but I love hearing other's ideas! 

Please leave a comment letting me know what you think! I love talking to other people abt fanfic aaaa ♡ Thanks again! 

🩷🌻🧸

Guys why is this so long. Why am I so cuckoo for coco puffs over a character from a horror game. This is deranged

[crownedcrowrow]

I put the boys names into a pokemon generator and picked the ones that looked like turtles. Then took elemets and colors to design the turtles because I thought it would be fun, and it was!!