#when actually he's a complete sap

[captain-huggy-bear]

A Love that Gives, Gives, Gives

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Toplessness/nudity but completely non-sexual, just intimate/tender

Summary: Sometimes you think you have the perfect fitting bra and it turns out that it's actually a traitor in disguise. Sometimes your boyfriend is personally offended that an article of clothing would hurt you so much because he's a sap.

Notes: Reader's skin goes red from the pressure of the bra band so apologies if this isn't what happens for you i'm just basing it off my experience as someone who's skin goes bright red.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

There's a special sort of excitement as you get older about seemingly boring and uninteresting things like new underwear. A new fun pair of socks makes your day a bit better, new knickers make you feel more put together than the old ratty ones in your drawer and a new bra make you feel more confident, like you can take on the entire world.

Today is no exception, you had gone into your long day with a sense of confidence thanks to a new underwear set. It had fit just right, or it had originally felt like it had fit just right, when you'd put it on at 6am before going to work. Either way, in that first moment of the day, you'd felt like a bad bitch and like you could take on anything.

Your day had been long, like normal you were out of the house from 6am until near 6pm, and in that time the comfort of your new bra had shifted to a discomforting sort of torment. A level of discomfort that had fallen into pain.

If there was one thing you cursed about being a woman it was the inconsistency of bras. How you could buy the same size in different places and find that they all fit differently, how one style could fit perfectly and another could be torturous, what you hated even more than that was that a bra could feel comfortable and like it fit right for the first few hours, for the time that you tried it on, only to betray you later in the day when it was too late.

This bra had done just that. Perhaps it had been that the band was too narrow? Or maybe that the straps were too tight? Or the style was just the wrong sort for you? Whatever the root cause, by the end of the day you could feel the band of your new bra digging into the skin of your side and back so harshly that you were certain it would be imbedded in you forever if you didn't get it off immediately.

You were quick as you unlocked the apartment door, slamming it a little too hard behind you as you kicked off your shoes, dumped your work bags on the floor without much care and began to rush past Quinn who had sat up from his space lounging on the sofa to greet you.

"Hey, baby," You barely acknowledged him, not more than a grunt as you passed and he frowned. Those green eyes of his following your hurried footsteps to where you disappeared into the bedroom.

It wasn't really a choice that he found himself up and following behind you, leaning against the doorframe of your shared bedroom. More of a compulsion really, an unthinking action, something he couldn't have not done if he tried. Where you went, he followed. You weren't always in the best of moods when you got home, but when you weren't in a good mood you usually sought him out, curling up into his lap as soon as you could for comfort. It was unusual for you to practically ignore him and it left a bad taste in his mouth, a worry that festered.

You feel bad for practically ignoring him, but the burning discomfort of cotton and lace digging into your skin was a more pressing matter, literally. You can feel Quinn's eyes on you from the doorway as you rush to peel out of your work dress in such haste that Quinn's almost certain he hears a rip as you shrug it off your shoulders.

He watches as you reach back, fingers fumbling with your bra clasp and slipping each time despite the years of experience with it. It's your urgency, the frustrated whine you let you that has him stepping forward and reaching for you unthinking, not questioning why this is so urgent but knowing it.

He has the clasp undone in half a second, and the gasp he lets out is as sharp and loud as your sound of relief when the bra falls away from your body and to the floor. Your skin is indented, a divot where the band of your bra had dug in over the day, flesh bright red, every stitch mark clear as day on the surface. It looks so uncomfortable to Quinn, painful and he can tell by your relief that it is.

"Baby..." There's abject concern in his tone, a quiet sort of worry that can be heard in his voice but also felt in the way his fingers barely graze your side. Fingertips careful and cautious as he traces the edge of the welts in your side.

"It's fine...I just clearly brought the wrong size...or style or something..." You lift your arm, looking at your skin in the mirror as you say this. It doesn't reassure Quinn, in fact your casual disregard for your own comfort pisses him off.

"It's not fine." Quinn's tone is short, clipped. His hands find the dip of your waist pulling you back against his chest, chin dipping down so he can press soft kisses to your shoulder, as if it will erase the discomfort of your skin, "Burn it."

"Quinn, I just bought it! It cost like $80!" The price itself makes you wince, $80 on something that seemed to fit but actually couldn't be worn comfortably for more than a few hours no matter how pretty it was.

"So? It hurt you, it can go in the trash and i'll buy you a more comfortable bra, one that won't do this," His hands trail up from your waist, over your skin until they meet the welts in your side. He's gentle, so, so gentle, as he massages little circles into the red marks. "Or, you can go without, who needs bras anyway?" He grumbles into your skin like bras were a personal affront to him. In that moment they felt like they were, anything that hurt his girlfriend was personally offensive.

"Quinn, I can't go around work with my nipples out. It's highly unprofessional." You roll your eyes at him even as you relax into his touch. His fingers are just cool enough that they provide a sense of relief against your burning skin. It's almost like he thinks he can massage the marks away, that if he caresses them enough they'll disappear.

"Okay, so just wear those bras that are stretchy." He thinks to the bra in your drawer, the one that you've managed to fall asleep in before, that never left marks on your skin

"You mean my bralettes? The ugly, shapeless things?" You think of the white that's now off-white from overuse, the fabric pilling, the elastic overstretched from wear. It's not exactly a bra you consider sexy, something practical instead, comfortable.

"They're not ugly. They're comfortable." He mumbles it into your neck, beard scratching your skin and making you twitch. His fingers are running along the indents in your side, giving up on small circles, and going for long strokes instead.

"I...I just wanted to wear something pretty."

"You're pretty enough on your own, baby," Quinn's kisses travel up your neck, pressing into your jaw and cheek as if he can kiss the thought into you, as if he can make you believe it with just a few presses of his lips, "but...if it's that important, we'll go get you fitted properly at one of those fancy lingerie stores and I'll buy you all the pretty bras you want as long as they don't hurt you."

"Really?" You catch his eye in the mirror, the look he gives you is soft and sincere, eyes crinkling at the edges. Quinn's good with his money, responsible, but he loves to spoil you, even more so because you don't expect it or ask for it. Even more so because you're so careful with your own money.

"Mmmhmm, still prefer you without a bra, but I can compromise, for you." He smirks as you twist to whack him in his shoulder, he laughs as his hands slip back to your waist.

"Quinn." Your voice is a bad attempt at sounding disapproving, the slight laughter you're trying to hide still coming out from underneath as you frown at him.

"First things first though," You watch as Quinn slips to his knees in front of you, still tall enough that he reaches the centre of your chest. There's something about him on his knees like that, looking up at you from beneath long lashes that feels devotional, like he's praying at an altar or shrine. It feels practically blasphemous and makes your stomach flip nervously.

"What are doing?" Your hand fingers his hair without much thought on your part, fingers glinding through dark waves, nails lightly scratching his scalp in a way that makes his eyelashes flutter.

"Kissing it better, then you're going to get into one of those really oversized t-shirts I have and we're going to watch your favourite movie and i'm going to order your favourite take-out."

"All because of my bra?"

"Mmhmm, gotta look after my girl."

He doesn't entertain your conversation any further, Quinn's lips trail over waist before they meet the left side of your ribs. He kisses across angry, red skin, warm to the touch from the pooling of blood under your skin. He takes his time as your eyes flutter close, revelling in the simple quiet intimacy, the tenderness as he cares for you. It's perhaps all in your head, but you think every kiss seems to erase a little bit more pain, a little bit more discomfort.

Your nails trail across the back of his neck as he shifts, lips pressing kisses across your ribs until he reaches the marks on your right side. He's as careful, as gentle as before as he presses kisses over the deep red grooves, nose brushing the skin lightly as he goes. It sets an ache of the best kind in your chest, an ache of affection of love, for this man who will supplicate himself to you, who will press kisses to your skin over something as simple as a too tight bra.

Until Quinn you'd never known this sort of love, all consuming, but not loud. Quiet, gentle. The sort of love that seeks to provide for you in every way imaginable even when you argue, even when you fight. The sort of love that sees all your broken and tender parts and just seeks to soften them, soothe them. A sort selfless love that seeks to give, give, give.

"I love you..." You whisper it, the quiet atmosphere too tender and delicate for anything louder. Your thumbs moving to rub against his cheeks as Quinn places one last kiss on your skin before looking up at you like you've hung the moon.

You're not entirely sure what you did in a past life to deserve Quinn and the sort of love that he gives you, but you choose not to question it. Scared that if you do it will disappear like a puff of smoke.

Quinn is no less gentle when he rises to his feet and guides you by the hand to your bed, no less gentle when he finds the biggest, softest t-shirt he can find and helps you slip it over your head.

His love for you is evident when he puts your favourite movie on without asking what one it is again, its evident when you hear him on the phone ordering your exact favourite takeout order, not forgetting a single item off the list. He doesn't need to say it, it's evident in all his actions, still he does. He mumbles it into your hair as you curl up together in front of the television.

For Quinn there is no greater goal in life than making you feel seen, known, loved and he does it so effortlessly.

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The "Luffy's fruit is a Zoan" reveal/retcon was extremely controversial when 1044 was first released; do you think Oda did a good job foreshadowing it?

yes!! it addresses a lot of idle questions i had about luffy's powers for quite some time (while also raising a ton more, of course, but that's the nature of one piece).

(all of my thoughts here and on gear 5 in general owe some credit to @grainjew, who has been my main discussion partner on this topic)

luffy's fruit has always been, from what we've seen, kind of weird for a paramecia? obviously since the categorization of 'paramecia' is sort of a grab bag and a lot less well-defined than logias or zoans, that's kind of a hard claim to make, but generally speaking, most of the paramecia users we see throughout the series do not have their powers always on. (the strongest counter-example i could think of to this trend is brook, and even that is one i think you can argue.) luffy's power is way more passive, in the sense that he doesn't have to activate it- it's just there, always. even seastone and seawater do not make luffy not rubber, they just sap his energy and stop him from stretching himself, as we see as early as arlong park.

that is weird! what we see of most other paramecias is that they have to use their powers intentionally, even when those powers do involve transforming their body in some way, like with mr. 1 or alvida. there's a whole plot in dressrosa about knocking a specific paramecia user unconscious so she'll lose her grip on her power and it'll disappear. luffy will stretch when he is asleep, when he is underwater, and without knowing he's doing it. he's always rubber.

so luffy is weird for a paramecia, though not completely unprecedented. his power has always seemed to me to be... almost logia adjacent, in the sense that he's made from a specific material and all his powers are based on being that material, but that doesn't quite track either. aside from the fact that the thing he's composed of is tangible and, again, he can't turn it off, he clearly has access to a greater level of complexity in his transformations than logias do (whose devil fruit powers seem to be basically a binary system).

which actually leads me to compare him to chopper, who is the zoan we know the best, and who, conveniently, also ate a version of the hito hito no mi.

i think the way luffy and chopper interact with their powers is actually very similar. much like luffy, chopper was fundamentally altered by his consumption of a devil fruit in a way he cannot return from. he can still look like a normal reindeer, but he can never actually be one, because the most important trait his devil fruit gave him was human sentience. and he would still have that if you put him in seastone, he just wouldn't be able to transform. similarly, luffy had his body fundamentally altered by his fruit in a manner he does not seem to be capable of even temporarily reversing. he can't make himself not rubber any more than chopper can return himself to being a normal reindeer.

like chopper, luffy's power progression has been based around finding new ways to transform his body and force it into new and more powerful forms. his gears are roughly comparable to chopper's points. that is zoan stuff! chopper is the main other person we see interact with his fruit in that specific way. so, yeah, i actually do think it does make sense for luffy's power to have actually always been a zoan. at the very least, it makes more sense than him being a paramecia, to me.

however, having said that, i also don't think it's as straightforward as luffy just being a zoan instead of a paramecia. we see that the awakening of his fruit definitely has both paramecia and zoan qualities, since he's transforming both himself and the environment around him, as well as other people. (the wiki puts this down to him being a mythical zoan but i just don't think that's true. kaidou is also a mythical zoan and he is completely baffled by what he's seeing.)

i made a bunch of jokes in discord about luffy being devil fruit nonbinary while i was reading this chapter- there's three genders and you have to pick one, and you can't just go switching it up, etc- and i do think that what luffy's fruit indicates is that the sorting system of devil fruits itself is imperfect. outliers do exist that don't fit cleanly between the lines- which we already knew! just look at katakuri.

[devilfic]

thinking about lyla hiring you as miguel's in-person assistant because as good as she is, she can't stop miguel from throwing chairs across the room. she introduces you to miguel on your first day and he immediately tries to fire you, insistent he doesn't need someone to "babysit" him, let alone someone with half the muscle mass and twice the mortality. except lyla's the one paying you, and even if it's miguel's money, lyla has made sure he can't stop the checks from clearing. so you're here to stay.

he does his best to ignore you at first and for the most part, you rarely get in his way. he goes about his duties and you shadow him, only ever speaking when spoken to if ever at all. but then one day, he's had a particularly difficult time with an anomaly and suddenly his fangs are splitting his lip, his claws are punching holes into his desk, he's snarling and the rage is taking over him again.

he grabs the thing and flings it across the room-

and you catch it. you set it down, calmly, safely, and it's so shocking to miguel because he's never seen you exert more force than needed to open a door, and you caught it.

miguel's anger melts away just like that. he watches you exhale, watches you drag the heavy thing back over to him where he stands dumbfounded and feeling. silly. he didn't think- "instead of throwing things, you can take your anger out on me."

miguel goes blank. he sounds so pathetic when he fumbles for a "w-what?"

you smile, the first time he's ever seen you do so, "I'm a good partner."

this had to be a. prank, right? lyla had put you up to this? he knows it's been a while, and she'd made the joke plenty of times before, but. were you. really? miguel clears his throat, ready to rebuff you, but he thinks about it and...

I mean, it has been a while. "you work for me." he reasons. it's not a refusal, you notice.

"it's okay," you assure him, stepping closer, "this kind of thing's in the job description."

and god. miguel doesn't know, is it actually? had lyla really. done that? he'd muster up the embarrassment if you weren't standing right in front of him and smelling so good and this whole time he'd been convinced that if he even dared to touch you he might break you but you'd caught it without breaking a sweat. what else could you handle? what were you offering to take?

you step even closer and then-

your fists are up. you're crouching and your fists are up. miguel stares.

"come on, then," you taunt, smiling wider, "I've fought bigger."

sparring partner.

now miguel's really embarrassed. he doesn't even have it in him to actually take you up on your completely innocuous, innocent offer. you wanted to spar. you wanted him to take his anger out on you in a fight. you'd sapped the anger right out of him just from this conversation. maybe it'd be better if he took a nap instead. he hadn't had one of those in a while either.

when he continues to just stand there, staring, red hot in the face, you raise an eyebrow and your smile becomes a little... mischievous. "what? did you have something else in mind?"

part two

[mellosdrawings]

I just stumbled upon you recently - I love the N2 Squad content! What's your favourite headcannons about them?

Oof, I have a bunch of headcanons (and some doodles).

I like to think Leona gifts the other two flowers on a daily basis. Just abandoning the flowers in Jamil and Vil’s belongings for them to find later, never an outright gift but like a cat bringing back stuff from its hunts and leaving them at its human's feet for when they wake up. Amaryllis (red poisonous flowers that mean pride, strength and determination) for Jamil and Lilies (purity, beauty, commitment) for Vil. Behind his burly "I don't give a damn" attitude he's a sap and he spends so much time in the botanical garden that he just knows where to find the flowers he's looking for.

(Sometimes Jamil gifts him a Marigold (prosperity, passion, warmth) back.)

Another headcanon of mine is that Jamil and Vil regularly dance together (for practice or unwinding). When I was a kid I saw a representation where the lady was dancing ballet and the man was doing breakdance on the same music, together, and it was the most lovely dance I've ever seen in my life. There was so much dedication and admiration in the man's breakdance that it came forth as completely soft and devoted towards the lady. I imagine Jamil and Vil doing the same, Vil doing the most beautiful and graceful ballet like an actual goddess and Jamil complimenting it with breakdance. That's an image that just stays in my head.

I think Vil is very fond of doing the other two's hair. Whenever he has the chance he'd ask to brush or style their hair. Jamil agrees most of the time but Leona does tend to play hard to get.

Also once Jamil relaxes after the initial steps of their relationship, he and Leona tend to playfight a lot. Just wrestle the shit out of each other while Vil rolls his eyes and goes to do something else. (Leona is very surprised the first time Jamil throws him or actually "wins" a fight.)

I'm gonna stop here for now, but if I think of anything else I'll draw it anyway!

[wheneverfeasible]

🧠🪱Wriggly Wednesday🪱🧠

Thanks for the tag @stervrucht!

So I was literally just thinking about Sugar Daddy Steddie with rockstar Eddie, coincidentally enough…

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

Okay so get this. Eddie Munson is some fucking metal legend. Corroded Coffin made it big, right? Right out of high school some scout saw them playing and swooped them up immediately, and before you knew it they were household names. Even people who don’t listen to metal know who they are.

And look, Steve Harrington? Metal is so not his scene. That much is obvious with his striped polos and overly large noise cancelling headphones, but he’s there in the crowd, front row, with a pack of teenagers scampering about. Obviously not his own, but he’s watching them, a glorified babysitter. He looks kind of bitchy, but the occasional fond smile settles over his lips as he takes in the lot who are having the time of their lives.

They all have backstage passes and are there for Dustin’s birthday because Corroded Coffin is his all-time favorite band and he’s always wanted to meet the guy he idol worships. They go backstage, meet the band, and it’s great. Fantastic even. The band is a lot more down to earth than Steve had been expecting, and there’s no naked ladies or drugs in obvious places, so he decides maybe they aren’t too terrible.

Except the frontman keeps hitting on Steve.

At first it was startling, because Steve isn’t some cheap whore (no hate to actual cheap whores, Steve is 100% sex work positive, but he’s there as a babysitter), but Eddie doesn’t spend the whole time hitting on Steve. He actually spends the majority of it talking to Dustin and the others, and he gives way more free shit to the teens than was agreed upon with the backstage passes, and he and the rest of the band sign anything and everything the teens want.

(Eddie also offers to sign Steve’s tits, which gets him a flat glare.)

And that should be it when they leave. Except Eddie slips Steve his number. For when he’s not acting a babysitter.

And that’s the thing. When Steve isn’t in babysitter mode? Fuck. Eddie Munson could get it.

Steve might not be a whore, but he is a bit of a slut. And Eddie had been far more charming that he let it be revealed, not least of which being because of how he handled Dustin and the others, especially sweet El. He’d absolutely beamed when she called his outfit “bitchin’” and there was no artifice there.

Now, Steve wasn’t some groupie, but…he wasn’t opposed to hooking up with a hot rockstar in a band he couldn’t really care about if it got him some good dick.

And good dick he gets. But first, Eddie actually takes him out, taking him out to a really nice and fancy restaurant, despite Steve not dressing for the occasion expecting this to be a hit-it-and-quit-it situation, but Eddie pays off the staff to look the other way. After all, Eddie’s not really dressed all that appropriately either.

Then Eddie takes him for an honest-to-god moonlit carriage ride around the park, complete with flowers and cheesy romantic music. Steve would like to say he was unaffected, but it really did it for him. He was a romantic sap but he was used to being the one always having to be the giver, never the receiver. It was…nice. And sweet, because god, Eddie Munson was secretly a sweetheart when you got him alone.

And then, after the sweet and romantic date, the two of them have the most disrespectful sex of Steve’s life.

He can’t get enough of it.

He knows what this is, however. He knows someone like Eddie Munson probably does this every tour, picking up some random person and wining and dining them and then teaching them things that would make the Kama Sutra blush.

Except, when he sneaks out Eddie’s room in the hotel penthouse in the morning, bruised and rumpled in all the right ways, the rest of the band lounging in the sitting room are as surprised to see him as he is to see them. Because, it turns out, apparently Eddie doesn’t do this. At least not to the extent he showed Steve.

No one was ever asked to stay until morning, at least.

But Steve has to go home, and he thinks that’s it. But then Eddie comes out and asks for a second date when he tries to leave. Offers more backstage passes to the next show for the kids, and Steve is hesitant to say yes, and that’s when Eddie hits him with another surprise.

Eddie says that he doesn’t care that Steve is a babysitter or a nanny or whatever, he isn’t doing this out of pity over Steve’s financial issues, which he accompanies with a slight tug at the worn and slightly frayed edges of Steve’s polo. He says that he just wants to treat Steve right because Steve deserves it. That he wants to buy him pretty things and shower him with whatever he wants. Wants to keep having the sweetest dates with the most disrespectful sex with him.

And Steve…well. Steve is stumped.

Sure, he’s wearing old clothes, but he thought he was just having a dick appointment. And yeah, he was a babysitter, but the teens were actually weirdly his friends despite the age differences, not to mention many were the younger siblings of his other, more age appropriate friends. And yeah, Steve had blushed when Eddie mentioned going to a fancy restaurant and said he didn’t have the money for it, but that’s because he left his wallet behind because, as previously stated, he’d thought this was just a dick appointment.

But you see, Steve Harrington was the CEO of a major international corporation that had been in the Harrington family for generations who, once Steve took the helm from his father, had also recently begun work in far more charitable organizations and activities. His company was, in fact, one of the major donors that supported the arena in which Corroded Coffin had just played in last night. The company’s logo, a small crown with the company’s initials, was printed on all the tickets and on the backstage passes.

How else would Steve have been able to afford over half a dozen of them if he was living on just a babysitter’s salary.

Yet, here was Eddie, offering to be his…sugar daddy?

Steve would have laughed, was tempted to even, but Eddie looked so genuine and earnest and like truly all he wanted was to spend more time with Steve.

And really. Steve was so used to having to be the one to provide luxuries for his dates, to be the one in charge, to always have to give give give. Maybe, just maybe, he could play along with Eddie’s utter misunderstanding and take just a little bit. He’d pay Eddie back when the rockstar got bored of him and moved on, so really, what was the harm?

So yeah, Steve just smiles and says Okay, Daddy, and accepts the goddamn gifts Eddie had apparently already bought for him even before their date, and he lets himself have his fun.

After all, it’s not like it’s gonna turn into anything long lasting, right? Nothing serious, right? And there’s absolutely no way that they could ever fall in love…

…right?

Aaaaand yeah. Other things that I envision could pop up in the story:

Robin is his best friend and works for him with international clients due to being polylingual. She discovers what is going on and calls him a dingus. She also wants all the gossip.

Dustin finds a diamond studded collar in his bedroom that says “Babygirl” and asks if Steve is getting a dog. He was looking for something to wear to impress a date and Steve forgot Eddie’s latest gift was still on his bed.

Steve is in full sugar baby mode when they accidentally run into one of Steve’s business associates and/or they are at one of the venue locations Steve secretly owns and he’s trying desperately to hide anything that might have his name or face on it.

In the end, Steve starts buying Eddie expensive gifts too which freaks Eddie out because he doesn’t want Steve to waste what little money he has on him. Or so he thinks.

Some big angsty misunderstandings and the truth finally being revealed. It ends with them agreeing to spoil each other, but only Steve gets to be called “Babygirl” and Eddie remains “Daddy”. Everyone is sick of how in love they are.

-

Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus

No pressure tags: @scoops-aboy86 @endlessmusings1801 @viviseawrites @steddieassheg0es @stevesbipanic (if you’ve previously been tagged, just ignore me!)

[hyperions-light]

That'll Get You Killed: Harding and Neve in the Ossuary

Second post in a series about the Ossuary. Read this one first.

Harding's Room

Rook enters the second occupied room, which has Harding. You can see her plants overflowing into the prison, as well as her books, chair and sleeping bag. Harding's notes are:

Which all center around the fear that he will be unable to contain Spite, and that his friends will be hurt as a result. Interestingly, the third one also indicates that he doesn't want Spite to be hurt, either. When you speak to Harding, she has some very fascinating dialogue:

Don't worry Rook. I've got my eye on the prisoner.

and then

Rook, are you sure Spite isn't tricking you? What if there's no Lucanis- just the demon?

Lucanis is afraid that his friends still see him as his captors did; a dangerous thing to be contained-- and, moreover, he's afraid they're right. That maybe there is none of him left, after the Ossuary; that all there is is Spite.

Rook refutes this idea directly, saying Lucanis is not a demon. Harding then says:

Look around. This isn't the mind of a human being, let alone an Antivan Crow.

Lucanis is afraid that he is too broken by his experience to be useful, or even to be human anymore (this fucks me up guys... brb crying). Rook can refute this by affirming that Lucanis is still himself, even after what happened; that everyone has mental scars, and that it is Lucanis' choices which define him; or that the state of Lucanis' mind is irrelevant, and that Rook is trusting him to save the world. For the first two Harding will warn Rook that their attitude could get them killed. For all of them, she warns them to be careful and disappears.

Neve's Room

Neve's room is based on the one where you fought Calivan originally, signalling her place as one of the two biggest obstacles to Lucanis leaving the Ossuary. Her notes are on her desk (behind Rook when you enter), on the clue board behind her, and near the exit in a pile of books. They say:

All of this text surrounds Lucanis' fear that he's out of control, that he's become a monster that can't help anyone; that he's completely lost himself (this fr almost made me cry ;-; the fear and pain and helplessness here is staggering ;;;;-;;;;). When you talk to Neve, she asks if Rook should be there, since it's dangerous. The following description of Neve by Spite is the only difference I can find between the romanced/non-romanced versions of this quest (besides flirt dialogue); he'll say something different if the Nevecanis romance is active, but essentially he identifies Neve as someone strange/new but intriguing. Neve then says:

You know how he is, Rook. Even if you open the door, Lucanis won't walk through it. This is where he wants to be.

Reflecting his fear that even if people try to help him, he won't be able to accept it; that in some way he is doing this to himself, and that he'll choose it over something better. Rook and the others HAVE reached out to him before this; they have offered their help sincerely, and he has rejected it because he was ignoring his own suffering, and because he's afraid he's incapable of accepting it. Neve says this because she has been one of the most kind, and still, Lucanis has refused her help, to this point.

Rook has a choice here where they can say either that Lucanis always has options that they are here to show him, that they are not going anywhere until they help, or that Lucanis is losing himself in masks, and Rook can handle the real him. Neve then says:

You really think you can help him? You're such a sap, Rook.

Which is Lucanis reflecting the fear that he is not actually worth helping, and that the people around him are wasting their time trying to do so. Rook then says she needs to let them try, and Neve disappears.

We've again hit the limit of how long I'm willing to stretch dashes, so the (hopefully) final post will be here.

[acepalindrome]

I imagine that Johanna can be kind, but in the roughest, bitchiest way possible. She actually exercised a lot of restraint in keeping her mouth shut for the first few days after Rook got trapped in the Fade, but after several days of watching Emmrich have panic attacks and jumping between different stages of grief, she finally has enough and tells him to knock that shit off.

You’re perfectly capable of solving this puzzle and rescuing your paramour, who is somehow even a bigger sap than you, but you have to stop being a big dramatic baby about it. Get a grip, Volkarin. You look like a ten day old corpse. Go take a bath, eat something, get some sleep and start fresh tomorrow. You’ll fix this. You defeated me, didn’t you? I know you’re capable, because I’m capable and I wouldn’t allow a complete moron to be my lifelong rival.

This is roughly the same pep talk she gave him about 35 years ago when he was having a breakdown about his graduation thesis. Believe in me who believes in you, dipshit. I have absolute faith in you, so get a fucking grip.

And once again, it snaps him out of spiraling and gets him moving forward again. He thanks her, much later, after Rook is home and safe again, but she just brushes it off. The sounds of him moaning and crying and hyperventilating were obnoxious, that’s all.

[elementroar]

Analysis of Paracelsus' initial bloodlust and its longlasting effects on A.B.A (Part 2)

Analysis behind the backstory and personal story arcs of A.B.A. and Paracelsus (part 1)

So this actually started out more of a 'funny' post, but I realized that it really is a very important insight into how A.B.A. and Paracelsus function and interact, especially for his earlier days in XX/Accent Core +R

And I wasn't joking about the vore. It's not in the erotic sense...but it certainly is in the 'literally eating parts of your partner ' sense...

Also apologies for the long word dumps, it got wordier and longer than I expected.

Paracelsus (used to) REALLY love blood

It goes without saying, Paracelsus really loves blood. Well he used to anyway.

By STRIVE, he says he felt he lost his sanity whenever he gets hyped on blood in the past. To the point, he has sworn off blood (and violence) as if it was an addiction. Basically, he has managed to go clean sometime between their last appearance and STRIVE.

To not go too far into his backstory again (which you can read here), Paracelsus is a magical axe that fed on blood and increased his own power with blood; and would use warriors as hosts to cause more bloodshed and thus gain more blood and power for himself. Paracelsus doesn't need to 'eat' blood to survive (he was left host-less for about 20 years, and now abstains in STRIVE and is just fine), making the addiction metaphor seem to be accurate.

Back in XX/ACCENT CORE, he needed to drink fresh blood to transform into his superpowered Moroha mode (this is mechanically replaced by Jealous Rage mode now). Similar to his current gameplay, he could get blood and transform by A.B.A. piercing someone with his bladed end; or if A.B.A. fed him one of three blood packs she'd have on her.

He reacts pretty much like a dog getting a treat, anticipating it when she reaches into her pockets for a pack too. And he truly didn't care where the blood comes from, even if it's from A.B.A. herself.

A.B.A. coughs up blood and all Paracelsus wants to do is have a taste. Note that he barely actually reacts to her or himself getting hit or fighting in the old games. It's kind of a stark contrast to his many reactions and concern for her wellbeing now.

Make no mistake, despite being "kinder and gentler" than how he treated his previous hosts - by not completely mind controlling her into a frenzy and caring enough that he doesn't want her to die - Paracelsus was truly obsessed with drinking blood still, and all the fighting skills and power he imparted on A.B.A. was to make her strong enough to defeat opponents and gather blood for him too. Hence the 'manipulation' he felt guilty of in STRIVE.

And he gets even more bloodthirsty in Moroha mode aka what Paracelsus is without his 'sanity'.

You're the worse you when on blood

Prior to STRIVE and Paracelsus' current sludgy form, his powered-up form gave him a goat's head and his persona changes into that of his old berserker self.

This increase in aggression and bloodlust also affected A.B.A. through their empathetic bond, making her also take joy in violence and also clearly hyperventilating and tweaking out in some animations, like she's high.

Not to mention that to fight in this mode, every time Paracelsus makes a successful attack, A.B.A. also gets damaged (hence 'Moroha' mode as it means 'double-edged'). In-universe, this could mean that Paracelsus is sapping both the blood of an opponent and A.B.A. at the same time, indiscriminately as he says.

And he seems somewhat crueler in this form, as he has an even more violent and vicious state above Moroha mode called Goku Moroha mode. He enters it by consuming another blood pack, but he also seems to bite down on A.B.A.'s hand without a care and holds onto it while he transforms.

The impact of all this on A.B.A

Picking up Paracelsus was truly a double-edged sword/axe for A.B.A. On one hand, he was older and savvier about the outside world (even though he spent like 20 years just rusting away on the ground somewhere) and having him as her emotional support key and literal weapon led her to actually daring to explore the outside world, and he provided and (attempted to) advised her on things she didn't know about.

On the other hand, Paracelsus' satiating his bloodthirst was still his main objective, and it was also hurting A.B.A. Although Paracelsus was making some effort to not outright get her killed, A.B.A's additional resilience as a homunculus probably also helped her survive take being Paracelsus' host as long as she did.

Paracelsus was the original toxic element in their relationship, and it's likely over the years he's come to realize and regrets the harm he was doing to A.B.A. constantly, and why he has completely sworn off blood and violence entirely by STRIVE.

However, his bloodlust fueled and amplified the worse tendencies of A.B.A. from early on, and this seems to have stuck with her till the present in STRIVE. Her current extremely violent reaction when feeling jealousy or anxiety is likely how she's been conditioned to do so by Paracelsus, even when he himself is no longer the source of that bloodlust.

The difference now is that A.B.A.'s new powered-up state of Jealous Rage is mainly fueled by her wrath and fear instead of Paracelsus' bloodlust. Paracelsus becomes sludge now, affected by the toxicity of her unstable emotions going haywire and her will becoming decidedly dominant over his. The one who is toxic has become inverted.

What's more, it seems that the skills Paracelsus imparted on her before also carried over and stuck with her, allowing her to fight independently since Paracelsus isn't trying to encourage her to violence this time. She's become so dominant that she now can even force a new form/transformation onto Paracelsus when she does her Overdrive The Law is Key, Key is King while in Jealous Rage.

In the game files, this red form is called the "Hyoui" form, meaning 'possession'. It being red is interesting because it seems to be a callback to Paracelsus' moniker of being the Sanguine Gale. The concept art also shows the pretty disturbing way he's being morphed into it by A.B.A. when she does the Overdrive.

When in her Jealous Rage mode, the bottom half Paracelsus' where his axe blade is, somehow becomes more axe-like than it ever has been in the games. In the earlier games, his blade half didn't change, only his head does into the goat-head. What's more disturbing is that eyes already started appearing on the axe half even while Paracelsus tries to maintain his original face as much as possible.

When executing the Overdrive, A.B.A. swings with the axe half as the sludge pulls from Paracelsus' face to form this new toothed red axe head. Is it a new persona? Is Paracelsus still conscious in his face half or in the axe half at all? Does 'possession' have double meaning where A.B.A. is possessed by her own wrath, but also Paracelsus is now the one being possessed by A.B.A.'s will into forming the red axe form?

The interesting thing too is that A.B.A. executes the Overdrive with precise strikes, liked a skilled warrior. IMO, at this moment A.B.A. ironically became the exact kind of warrior that berserker Paracelsus would have wanted and caused him to even revert back into that primal early form of his that was barely sentient. They gained perfect synergy for the attack, but both are literally out of their minds.

What started this post

Just a funny thing but the reason why I even thought of, and then looked into all this, was because of A.B.A.'s biting of Paracelsus at the top of the post. I was wondering why Paracelsus doesn't say a word of protest when she does this to him, then remembered that he used to kinda drink her blood (and turns out he too has bitten her before), and I think he's prolly thinking "I deserve this".

[flowercrowngods]

this wouldn't leave me alone, so have my thoughts on a steve-centric "who did this to you?" steddie concept inspired by @imfinereallyy (i hope this is okay, even though it's uhhh nothing like what you mentioned)

When Eddie gets to the boathouse, he immediately notices that something is off. The door is cracked open but he can’t hear anyone talking or moving stuff around. No one ever comes here — it’s been his hideout spot since the ripe age of thirteen when he’d had hist first real fight with Wayne. 

No one comes here. But now the door is cracked open and Eddie stares at it for a good minute as though that would make it come to life and tell him who’s inside so he won’t have to look and deal with whoever decided to steal his spot. He’s really not in the mood to start any shit today, or to be called all sorts of names — most of which aren’t even half as true as people fear. 

His first instinct is to leave, find somewhere else to hide from this miserable world today, when he hears it. The sound of sniffling, followed by wet, heavy breaths. 

Oh. It sounds like someone’s crying. In his spot.

Maybe it’s some girl who got her heart broken, some dude who lost the last bit of faith in his family, or some kid who— 

Ah, fuck it, he’ll just come back later. Not his problem. Definitely not his problem. And it’s definitely not guilt or worry that gnaw at him as he turns on his heel to leave. 

But then there’s a groan. A pained groan. Someone’s in pain, and crying in his spot, and Eddie really shouldn’t make that his problem. He shouldn't. Nopbody cares when he's crying and in pain either! But fuck if he won’t be thinking about it for the rest of his life if he turns his back on whoever it is. Maybe they need help. 

They most certainly sound like they do.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie is already at the door before he can think about it too much. 

“Hello?” he asks the darkness, and immediately the sniffling stops. 

Silence falls, but only for a moment before whoever it is has to draw shaky, wheezing breaths that make Eddie swear under his breath. 

“Listen, I know you’re here.” He’s taking slow, deliberate steps, his eyes roaming he mess of boats, tools and tarp he knows so well.  “And I’m not trying to start anything. Tell me to go away and I will. But I have a first aid kit in my car and, uh, you sound like maybe you need it.” 

There’s no response, but the wheezing breaths turn into whimpers with every second that whoever it is tries very hard not to make any noise, and Eddie’s heart starts to race in his chest. He can feel worry and panic starting to rise. And overshadowing it is an overwhelming sense of dread.

What the fuck is happening? 

He tries to be careful but his mind is racing and his limbs are starting to feel like lead. His wary steps become heavy and clumsy, and then he accidentally boots something that makes a terrible, horrible noise, breaking the eerie silence. Eddie cringes and is about to apologise, when finally there is movement in his peripheral vision. 

And then he sees him. There, hidden in the shadows between a boat and the far wall, his face breaten and bloodied, his eye swelling around a nasty bruise. Wait, do bruises bleed? Should they look black like that? Is it a cut? Something worse?

Even after years of constant bullying and goading in middle school and high school, he has never actually seen someone look like this. With their face completely smashed in. It makes him freeze for a horrible, horrible moment before he saps out of it.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, hurrying over as fast as he can, stumbling over tools and tarp as he does. Something falls to the floor with a loud clunk and it makes the boy flinch again. Eddie curses. “Sorry, shit, sorry!” 

He makes it to the boat rather quickly, crouching down in front of the boy a few feet away so as not to spook him, not to crowd him. And then his heart only plummets further, because he knows this one. 

Steve Harrington. The boy who’s come to school with many a black eye over the past two years — but never this bad. The boy who’s been looking like the world might be about to end each time he rounded a corner in school; ever since things started happening around Hawkins. Since the Holland girl died and the Byers boy disappeared. 

It fascinated Eddie, the way Steve fell from grace. The way he turned quiet, and showed up with healing bruises. There are stories woven around it, because teenagers like to gossip and word spreads fast, and Eddie always listened with rapt attention as Harrington turned into a bit of a myth. A legend. A ghost story.

But fascination is not what he feels right now, seeing Steve like this.

His eyes are unfocused and Eddie knows about the danger of head injuries. He knows about the consequences of blood loss, he knows that Steve will be warm to the touch even though he’s shivering already, and… Fuck!

“Shit, Steve,” he rasps, not daring to speak louder lest he spooks the boy. Of all the reasons he’s had to be afraid of talking to Steve Harrington, this one might be the cruellest. "I..."

He takes in his wounds, his bruised and scraped knuckles where his hands are wrapped around the knees he’s pulled to his chest, and his split lip that he keeps biting. 

Eddie swallows before he asks, “Who did this to you?” 

But Steve just shakes his head clumsily. Sniffles again, and then his breath comes in wet heaves, and Eddie worries for a moment that he’s going to throw up now. 

He doesn���t. 

Steve’s just staring. Eddie isn’t even entirely sure he can see him, or maybe he did and then forgot, or maybe he’s fading. Eddie should do something, he should get help, he should— 

“Steve,” he says, and dares to touch him when he doesn’t react. 

A light touch to the knee shouldn’t make anyone flinch like that, but Steve’s whole body jumps, and then the shivers and the wheezing get worse. It almost sounds like a whimper, and Eddie curses again. Feels like crying now, scared and helpless as he is.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I— Jesus, okay.” He swallows hard, trying to think, willing for the panic to subside and a plan to form. “You’re okay. I... I’m gonna, I’m gonna grab the first aid kit. I have it in my car. It’s not, it’s not far. And a blanket. So you'll be warm again. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move, don’t…" He gestures wildly, caught between reaching out and pulling away. "Don’t move.” 

Eddie takes a wavering breath and moves to stand on numb, tingly legs, nearly missing Steve’s, “Can’t.” It’s barely more than a whisper, hardly even a wheeze. It’s like he’s just breathing out words because everything else is too much effort. 

Right. Right. This is messed up and Eddie’s panicking, but Steve will be okay. Because things like that don’t happen, not here, not today, and not to Steve Harrington. 

Except this is Hawkins. Where Will Byers disappeared and Barb Holland died and many people are missing and weird shit just ends up happening everywhere even though they’re all just kids. They’re just kids. And Steve’s not even conscious enough to realise that right now. 

Eddie all but runs outside, sprinting to his van with a speed that would make the coach swallow his stupid whistle if gym class only mattered right now. It doesn't. Nothing matters, because Steve is... He's hurt. And there's no one else around to help.

Grabbing the first aid kit, a bottle of water and a thick blanket he always keeps spread out in the back of his van, he makes it back to the boathouse in no time. 

He wasn’t even gone for three minutes, but still he sighs in relief when Steve is still awake. He even looks up. Blinks. Frowns in what can only be confusion and makes Eddie's heart fall.

“Munson?” 

Fuck, that’s not a good sign. That’s messed up, it’s fucked up, it’s— Focus, Eddie! 

“The one and only,” he says, voice shaky and his smile not fooling anyone. He wraps the blanket around Steve, whose eyes are unfocused again, though he tries so hard to blink it away. 

Brave boy, stupid boy. Head trauma isn’t blinked away. Though Eddie is inclined to let him try. Maybe he’ll find a way. 

“Here.” He hands the bottle over to Steve, who grabs it with clumsy hands. He can hold it, but he can’t get it open — again, not a good sign. 

Eddie opens it for him, then turns to his first aid kit. It seemed like a great idea five minutes ago, but he’s petrified now. It’s too dark in here and he can’t really see the wounds, he doesn’t know what to use, what’s in there, he doesn’t, he can’t, he— 

The bottle, empty now, is handed back to him, bumping into his hand, tearing him away from his spiralling thoughts. 

“Thanks,” Harrington breathes, and there’s a small smile visible in the darkness. Eddie just nods and takes it with hands that are still shaking.

“I wanna help you,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “But I don’t know how. You gotta tell me where it hurts, Steve.” 

A beat. “Everywhere.” 

Eddie sags, falling back to sit opposite Steve, frantically rubbing at his face. “Shit.” 

“Yeah.” Steve chuckles, but it sounds so wet with tears and pain, Eddie never wants to hear it again. “Thought I could do it.” 

He’s talking. That’s a good thing, right? He can’t pass out as long as he’s talking. That’s how that works, isn’t it? So, Eddie asks, “Do what?” 

“Doctors told me,” Steve sighs, his voice slow and slurring. “Told me to... to stay out of fights. Stay out of them. Said I had to make sure my head won’t—“ 

He makes a motion with his fist, and Eddie thinks he’s simulating a punch, disoriented as it is. It makes his heart fall. Is that what happened? Someone beat Steve to a pulp? Again? Just like that?

Eddie is so stuck on that thought, trying to piece together the puzzle, that he almost misses Steve’s mumbled speech. 

“Y’know, th— Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.” He says it to matter-of-factly that Eddie’s heart stops for a second.

What the fuck happened to Steve Harrington? Not just today, no. What happened to him?

What happend to make him look up at Eddie Munson, out of all people, with glistening eyes so endlessly scared, and say, “I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture. I can't—” A wheeze, a keen, a whimper, and Harringtin pulls at his hair, uncaring that he's making things worse.

Meanwhile, Eddie is stuck on his words. Because what. 

“Can’t, can't die now ‘cause Tommy thinks he’s so… He’s… He’s just sad, man. Griev'n' and confused. But Billy’s gone, an'— And now I’ll…”

Steve looks at him now, his eyes shining with tears and something that Eddie’s written poems about and created characters around. This expression, like the world will end. And inspiring as it is, it fucking breaks his heart now. 

“They said my brain is hurt, Eddie.”

Eddie swallows the hurt and the fear and the complete overwhelm he's feeling. Steve is telling him things that Eddie doesn't know how to handle.

“You won’t die, Steve,” he says in as gentle a voice as he can muster right now, because that's the only thing he knows.

And he won’t, right? People don’t just die. Not from taking a punch, not when they just graduated high school, not when they’re Steve Harrington. Right? 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay,” Steve breathes. “That’s good.” 

Eddie wants to hug him in that moment. He never knew that this was possible, wanting to hug Steve Harrington, wanting to wrap the blanket around him even tighter and keep him safe and convince him that he won’t die. 

And then the rest of what he said catches up with Eddie and leaves anger in its wake. 

“Hagan did that to you?” 

Steve nods. “Started going off about Billy.”

Eddie’s blood freezes at that name. "Hargrove?” 

Another nod, though Steve doesn’t look too happy about moving his head, and he groans quietly. “They were friends. Tommy is angry. Grieving. Con— Confused. He was just saying shit, like it’s my fault. And it is. Kinda. But Tommy’s, he, he’s... Just saying shit. And then he punched me. A lot. And he didn’t stop. And now… is now.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes dumbly, carefully bandaging the glaring wound at his temple, needing to start somewhere. “Now is now.” His blood is still frozen as he tries very hard not to listen to Steve. Nothing that Harrington says has any right to matter anything to him; they live in two different worlds. If Harrington confesses to murder while severely concussed under Eddie’s watch, then there are no witnesses to drag either of them through the mud for it. Eddie is just gonna forget about it. Or try, anyway. “But you’re… Shit , Steve, you’re really hurt.” 

Steve blinks. Pauses. And Eddie thinks he’s lost him. But then, “Yeah. I’m always hurt.” 

And that, in this little voice, is like a gut punch. Because Eddie knows something about always hurt. “What?” 

“What?” 

There is ice in his veins as he asks, “Who’s hurting you, Steve?” 

Steve looks at him, opening his mouth once, twice, like he’s about to say something and Eddie holds his breath. But then Steve’s eyes droop and he shrinks in on himself a bit more. 

“Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.” 

Know what, Harrington? Eddie can barely breathe anymore.

“’M tired, Eddie,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. “Don’t wanna hurt anymore.” 

“Hey, hey, no!” Eddie reaches out, catching Steve’s head and preventing it from colliding with the floor as he’s slumping and falling over. 

And just like that, the panic is back, frantic but determined this time. He’s going to get help; there’s nothing he can do with his lousy first aid kit, not when Steve keeps going in and out of consciousness like that. Not when he can barely see anything or clean the wounds properly.

He’s going to get Steve to a hospital and allow them both to forget this ever happened. Because Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson don’t breathe the same air or share traumatic stories in a boathouse like this. 

He’ll get out of Steve’s hair the second the hospital doors close behind him, and get out of whatever trouble someone like Harrington could be in. Eddie doesn’t even want to know. He doesn't want to be part of his ghost story.

But as he’s scooping him up and helping him out of the damned boathouse, clumsily preventing him from stumbling over his own feet or tools or tarp or planks or whatever fucking shit is littering the floor of this godforsaken place, he can hear Steve speaking quietly. 

"Where‘re we going?"

And even though a second ago he was determined to take Steve to a hospital, there is only one place on Eddie's mind right now. Only one place he knows where he won't be scared anymore.

"Somewhere safe," he says, tightening his hold on the boy even though his hands are shaking now, too. He looks over his shoulders the moment they're out of the boathouse, stupidly worried that whoever did this to Steve – Hagan, apparently – would still be around, would follow them and do the same shit to Eddie.

"Safe?"

"Safe."

"Okay," Steve sighs, like he believes him. Like he trusts him. Hell, they've never even spoken before, but something inside Eddie breaks at the little sigh, at the way Steve goes slack in his arms. And even more at the little, "Thanks."

If Eddie's eyes are filled with tears and the hands around the wheel are clenched so tight to hide the way they're shaking, then Steve is not conscious enough to comment on it.

(addendum 7 december) onwards to part 2

[lustlovehart]

I LOVE TWST monster au. It so cool and interesting!!! I'm INLOVE

I don't know if your taking requests or not but if you are I NEED to know more about Vil. Like have he every try to seduce you?? Like make you kiss him or worse 😳.

Anyway have a goodnight or goodday

Warnings: NSFW, some canon to the au, some past drafts, GN! Bodied Reader, Possession/Obsession

Ahaha… Funny you say this, in the monster list, Vil’s entire snippet was centered around reader and him being freaks before I realized I should tone it down 💀

First, Non-Canon/Draft stuff! The dynamic between reader and Vil was basically just

( They were fighting and then they somehow ended up in bed while they screamed hate at each other. When they were done they realized they lowkey liked it. )

Essentially, Vil is the only one in the monster cast who has ever been intimate with reader. In my mind, MH!Reader still understood it was wrong, so you never go all the way with him. You think this arrangement is completely reasonable, considering of firm Vil is on not letting you kill him. You’re entirely convinced he hates you, so letting him feed off you to feel the self indulgent pleasure of his tongue, is a fine arrangement.

Unbeknownst to you, every time he finds himself in the bed with you, he can only clench his nails. He’s been starving this whole time… Why? Because, contrary to you thinking he’s sapping your energy away, he hasn’t consumed a single piece of your vitality. Neither, has he seen anyone else to quench that desire.

It’s pathetic, he’s losing the soft feeling of his pure skin, simply cause he can’t bear the idea of slowly killing you. But, he doesn’t wanna do this with anyone else now. The only one he wishes to taste is you.

… Truly, what have you done to this all famed incubus?

Fun fact! The Incubus Vil fic I have written is actually before I changed this part of his lore, sooo, there might be a small chunk in there where it’s implied you and Vil had a freak off ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

And now onto Canon! This one will be a little vague to avoid heavy spoilers, but, you’re basically right! Vil does attempt to seduce reader, and it works, but only slightly.

Unlike MH!Reader previously, in the current au, they have a bit more self control, so you notice his seduction, and the sweet smell that wafts the air, but through simple will power, you push through the temptation.

There are several times where you wonder if you should just go through with it, but then you remember the hoard of monsters who act as your second shadow, the two monster hunters who will no doubt shoot Vil at every possible chance, and the angel Vil has a strong hatred for. Yeah, probably not the best choice.

Honestly, it ticks off Vil, but also is what makes him continue pursuing you. It would be easier to sleep with other people if you stopped looking at him with those eyes.

Yet, you don’t, so it’ll never happen.

[aainiouu]

Imagine if once Buck finds a curious looking bug on his shoulder when they are lounging in Tommy’s backyard and gets excited.

He starts babbling to and about the bug and googling what kind of a bug it is.

Tommy watches him for a bit, amused and fond.

”There isn’t a living creature you don’t find love for, is there?” he says and Buck laughs and blushes a little.

”Well, yeah, they are all just so fascinating! And just…”

”What?”

Buck laughs and his tone is nervous as he continues.

”Well… I just think that even the most strange creatures need some love, don’t you? I used to think… well… I used to think myself as a strange creature, just hoping for someone to notice me and take interest on me and love me. I— it’s stupid.”

Buck tries to wave it away but Tommy is suddenly very alert.

”All the strange creatures deserve love, babe,” he says and rubs Buck cheek under his thumb. ”And if you are a strange creature then I am your scientist, loving all of your bits and habits and being utterly, completely fascinated by them. Always.”

Tommy smiles.

”Actually, I think I would make you my life’s work. I would get my PhD in Evan Buckley studies and eventually I would win a Nobel Prize for it.”

One stray tear escapes when Buck blinks.

”They don’t give Nobel Prizes for zoology, they did add—”

”I would definitely get a Nobel Prize for it. It’s such an important work. Don’t argue with me.”

Tommy’s voice is mock stern and Buck can only kiss him after that.

”You are a sap, Kinard.”

”Maybe, but it doesn’t make it any less true.”

[awooghan]

[11:41 pm] ✧.* l.mh

➳ PAIRING: lee know x gn!reader

➳ GENRE: fluff, slice of life, silent/mutual pining, friends to (implied) lovers

➳ WARNINGS: none, just tooth-rotting fluff and simp!lino :]

➳ WORD COUNT: 1k exactly which is a bit long for a timestamp but are we surprised

➳ SUMMARY: you and minho are out with your friends one night. minho notices you won't leave his side.

➳ NOTES: wow i actually completed a fic and it wasn't for christmas LOL hope you enjoy <3 also i know the banner is lee know in a puffy coat but this is supposed to be a summer night timestamp and this was the closest photo i could find 😭 (and as always ty @ujimoo for helping me make a banner)

➳ SONG REC: headliner (seventeen)

network tags: @kflixnet @straykidsland-main @kwritersworld @k-labels

“Ah, Y/N…” Minho says, lightly nudging you. “When are you gonna get off me?”

His voice, flat but gentle, cuts through the air around you, making the crickets chirping nearby sound like a mere pin drop. He doesn’t mean to sound rude, though his tone alone would have raised the eyebrows of strangers passing by. Luckily, there aren’t many people around to spare him weird glances this late at night.

It’s a genuine question, though. Instead of stomping around on the playground down the slope with your friends, you have effectively trapped Minho next to you atop a nearby hill. Your legs are outstretched before you, your shoes innocently tapping against his as you rock your feet side to side. Your arm sits comfortably next to his, and your head rests on his shoulder. He’s all but stuck now, like sap on a maple tree in January, and if you don’t move soon, he’ll be doomed to spend the rest of the night here in the grass.

He feels you shrug next to him.

“Hmm?” Minho hums. His eyes widen just slightly as you scoot closer. Your hand brushes against his, and your fingers lazily drum a pattern into the warm earth below you. He tries to ignore this and pokes you repeatedly in the arm.

“Come onnnn…” he says. “When are you gonna get up?”

Your quiet “I dunno” in response fills his ears.

“What do you meeeaaann, ‘I dunno’?” He makes a show of rolling his eyes, then clicks his tongue. “Why don’t you wanna get up, hmm?”

A scream echoes through the park and makes Minho look up for a moment. Changbin’s short figure flies through the air, his arms flailing. The swing behind him rocks erratically as he falls onto the mulch with a thud. Wooyoung points and cackles loudly from the swing next to him, but quickly lets out a shriek of his own and grips onto the metal chains. Further right, Jungwoo and Chaeryeong’s silhouettes chase each other around on the main playground equipment. Lampposts at the edge of the playground cast a dim yellow glow across the space, like the ones in retro film recordings. Minho can imagine the little “PLAY” icon floating at the top left of the scene, blinking periodically several feet above the dark blue awning.

He feels a light tap against his shoe again.

“Owww!” Minho feigns a cry. He picks up his feet and swipes them away from you in one swift move, the corners of his lips pulling down in an exaggerated pout. “Y/N, that hurt~ how dare you…” 

Looking back at you, you’re mindlessly clicking your feet against each other, and you’re still all cuddled up on his shoulder. His heart thumps a little louder in his chest when you shove your head closer to him.

“Yah, Y/N…”

“Hmm...” Your soft hum comes out more as a statement than a reply.

You flutter your eyes closed, your lashes gently batting against your skin. He heaves out a sigh, and the warm breeze tickles his cheeks with a light blush. It seems to have more mercy on you, though, as it delicately brushes your stray hairs away from your forehead, framing your face perfectly. Almost too perfectly. The crickets blend into the quiet air as he takes in the sight.

“Hey…” Minho tries one more time. He tilts his head slightly as he gazes at you. “Why don’t you get up? Our friends are waiting.”

The breeze picks up for just a moment, making you scrunch up your nose. Minho gestures down the hill. It’s getting more difficult to look away from you. “See?” he continues. “Playground's right over there. ‘S loads more fun than I am.”

Another shriek rings out from the playground area. Chaeryeong lies in an awkward position at the bottom of the slide. The wind picks up again at the same time, whistling against Minho’s ears right as Chaeryeong yells something at Jungwoo. All he can make out is another scream as Jungwoo tumbles down the slide and knocks Chaeryeong onto the gravel.

But a light tap sings louder to Minho than all of it.

Looking back at you, his eyes trace down, stopping where your fingers meet his arm. As light as a hummingbird’s wing beat, your fingers tap across his forearm and leave a path of spreading warmth in their wake. They seem to float in the air as they skip further down. Your touch, so faint and gentle, nearly lulls him to sleep. He lets his eyes fall shut.

It’s like Minho is at the beach for a moment, and your fingers brushing against his skin are the ocean waves calmly swaying over his feet. Then, he feels a sudden blast as a tidal wave crashes over him, its currents pulling him under and leaving him unable to breathe. His eyes snap open and right toward the spot where your hand has come to a gentle rest over the top of his own.

Minho’s eyes meet your soft ones. Your head is still comfortably nestled on his shoulder, and your cheeks seem to glow in the dark when you smile at him. For a moment, perhaps a moment too long, time comes to a still as he takes you in, watching you slowly melt into his side. You look so at peace, and he dare not disturb you, despite his urge to spring up and run down the hill and scream at Changbin. Thankfully, he’s too engrossed in the feeling of your hand on top of his to even try. He thanks his lucky stars once more that you’re also looking down at your hands, so you can’t notice the blood rushing to the tips of his ears.

Slowly, he spreads his fingers and gently threads them with yours. He glances at you, then looks down at his lap, a shy smile finally forming on his lips.

“Ah…” he says softly. “ Our friends can wait a little.”

[celestialsequels]

stupid cupid keeps on calling me, but i see lovin’ in his eyes ¡! ❞

— synopsis: jimin takes you on a museum date.

— warnings: fluffy, a couple of kisses here and there, jimin and y/n being complete losers for each other.

— w/c: 1.7k

— part 1

a/n: guess who’s back from hiatus. thank you for being so supportive and considerate over the last few weeks as i was gone. this one is for you guys and i hope you guys enjoy it !

•

after being interrogated by yeonjun, you rushed home as fast as you could. every part of you jittered in utter excitement. the evening glow had began to radiate off of you ever so slightly as you thought back to the events that took place earlier—the way her lips felt on yours, the way she gazed into your eyes as if you were the last person on earth.

yeah, you were so done for.

your steps seemed to have their own rhythm as you walked home, all drowned in your thoughts. everything around you seemed so much happier. the people around you felt like they were more in love than ever. the murals painted on the buildings you walked past felt as if they were speaking to you. hell, even nature blushed when you smiled. you finally reached home and entered through the backdoor, since it always seemed to be open. you quickly took your shoes off, almost stumbling onto your cat, flipflop, as you made your way inside. you threw everything onto the ground and headed upstairs to your room to get dressed for your date.

hangers? on the ground. accessories? on the ground. your entire wardrobe? on the goddamn ground.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“jun, nothing looks good on me. i’m starting to think this date was a bust,” you pouted as yeonjun did nothing but laugh at you.

“maybe try that outfit you always say you’ll wear but never actually end up wearing,” he suggested when he sensed you had been silent for too long.

you ushered yourself to your pile of clothing that remained still on the ground for the past hour, simply hoping that something would begin to look appealing. suddenly, an idea popped into your head and you just knew this was going to be the outfit of a lifetime—okay, you were exaggerating, but at this point, it was better than nothing. yeonjun simply stared at you pacing around the room in what seemed like excitement but was, in fact, insanity. he had never seen you so eager yet so anxious about meeting a person; this was definitely something out of the ordinary. it made his heart swell with joy, finally seeing you so happy after so many years.

“you know, y/nnie, i’m really happy to see you all happy and chirpy after so many years. i never thought i’d see the day,” yeonjun spoke softly as you admired yourself in the mirror with a fond smile.

“jun…she truly makes me so happy. my worries seem lighter than a feather when she looks into my eyes. my soul feels lighter when she places her lips on mine. she makes me feel whole. god, i sound like a sap,” you chuckled at your own words as you realized that this girl was all you wanted.

“you are a sap, little shit–”,

before he could let out another word, you threw your half-eaten, almost-rotting pudding cup in his face.

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it was nearly seven-thirty, and you only seemed to be getting more and more anxious. you started to ponder at what the future held for the two of you, thinking about nights when you two wouldn’t be able to sleep, so you’d spend it in the kitchen together, or when life might get a bit rough, and you’d find comfort within each others’ arms. the thought of living together made you blush a little harder than you would like to admit. the sudden ring of the door bell jolted you out of your thoughts, practically making you jump in front of the mirror to check if you looked perfect—and that you did, just oh so perfect. yeonjun’s snores seemed to emphasize as you made your way out of the room, not before kicking him in the shin as you ran to the front door.

“You—,”

his words zoned out as your blood rushing through your veins was the only thing you could pay attention to. you propped yourself in front of the door, giving yourself military-grade advice, but who were you kidding? not even a defibrillator could put your heart at ease. you peeked through the peephole of the door to make sure it was jimin. opening the door, and there she was. her hair flew in the crisp evening wind like the finest hazelnut spread. her eyes bore into yours as you finally opened the door after what felt like an eternity. a distinct silence fell between the two of you as your hearts soared with passion. the music playing from your ipod playing in the distance had you wanting to grab her hand and pull her as close to you as possible.

“pack it up, you two, i’ve gotta get in my beauty sleep,” yeonjun spoke up from behind you, scaring you two in the process.

“uh huh, okay,” you eyed him suspiciously since you knew damn well he wasn’t the type to sleep this early but chose not to say anything else.

“take good care of her jimin otherwise…” he threatened playfully while leaning against the wall.

“okay, hobbit,” jimin reached for your hand and pulled you out the door with her before giggling at her own joke.

adorable, you thought.

you two ran before you could hear him yell out anymore curses. soon, you heard the door shut and you two stopped running. Your entire body turned red as you realized you were gripping onto her hand for dear life. the crickets chirped from the nature surrounding you two. a calm yet fervent tension settled between you like an expecting nebula.

“you look so pretty tonight,” she broke the silence, mentally cursing herself for sounding like a loser.

“and you look all mine tonight,” your boldness surprising the two of you as the both of you turned into a giggling mess. of course, you two were losers in love, but you were each others’ losers, and that’s all that mattered.

after about half an hour of walking and flirting, you two finally reached the art museum. solace taking over you two as you floated in your little microcosm full of love. the lights shone down upon the entrance, colors displayed all over like an orchestra. mellow music could be heard from the speakers as you dragged jimin to the progress of love: the meeting. the viridian of the painting speaking directly to you while your eyes traced down the two lovers that sat patiently. jimin didn’t say a word given that you were so invested into the artwork, so she just let you tug her around the entirety of the museum. her eyes outlined your face whenever your eyes filled with sparks of interest at whatever you were looking at. her heartbeat intensified whenever you reached for her hand so she could pay attention to what you were saying.

“jimin, look, it's the lovers by rené magritte. i had to work on it for art class; it was fascinating—”

before you could say more, she eagerly pulled you in by the nape and placed her soft and succulent lips onto yours. all air was knocked out of your lungs as you still hadn’t gotten used to her lips being on yours, moving ever so fervently while her hands remained on your nape, gently playing with your hair. the lights in the museum suddenly dimmed, and the cold temperature of the room hastily became warmer. jimin’s fingers hovered across your arm, causing goosebumps to form all over your body. a few flower petals began to fall all around the room as you slowly pulled out of the kiss only to find jimin cheesing at you.

candles lit up right on time as she put her hand out for you to hold so she could show you exactly what she had in store for you. every part of you was radiated happiness. the entire museum fell into a soothing silence as jimin walked you outside into the garden. the entire garden was decorated with candles, with petals creating a walkway to the picnic she had prepared for you.

“jimin...is this all for me?” you questioned in surprise as you had never been treated so gently.

“pretty girl, everything i do is for you,” she turned a few shades redder when she saw you looking at her with the most admirable gaze. you smiled to yourself, realizing in the moment that this was the love of your life, whether you wanted to admit it or not. out of the blue, a small note sitting on the blanket caught your eye, causing you to curiously go examine it.

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“hi y/nnie…

i left you a polaroid camera

because i knew you would forget it at home.

go make memories with your future wife

- love jun”

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“so, this is why yeonjun told me he was going to sleep early?” you chuckled in disbelief as you recalled back to how they were eyeing each other down earlier.

“mhm, i wasn’t gonna say anything but you know how he is,” jimin responded behind you.

“jiminie, i really want you to know how loved i felt with you tonight. i-i don’t think i’ve ever been treated so softly before. you’re my person and i want you to know that,” you admitted tearfully.

“baby, you’re my person too. i adore you too much to ever treat you wrong. i didn’t think you’d like the date this much, so i was slightly nervous,” she spoke to you, affectionately rubbing her thumb over your cheek.

“you are my favourite date,” you said before pressing your lips onto hers.

the lights of the museum had completely turned off, leaving you two all alone in the garden to make memories. candles swaying along with the zephyr of the night. the flowers serenading with the music that was once playing from your ipod at home.

you two were finally home.

stupid cupid keeps on calling me, but i see lovin’ in his eyes…

[cherrygenshin]

Obey Me! Rut HC's - pt.2

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT. Minors DNI. Again, no special warnings, just breeding.

GN reader.

Satan

His rut is average, lasting up to a week.

He's not too big on nest building, he finds it gets too stuffy in his room with too many items in it (let's be real, it's really cause it won't fit due to all his damn books)

Actually remains kinda the same? Just touchier?

Won't let you leave his room once you enter, if you do leave he won't let you back in, no matter how desperate he gets.

Snaps VERY quickly, but will try his best to keep his cool around you. He's just so worked up, he can't handle the pressure.

In post nut clarity he will be very smoochy to you, thanking you for putting up with him and giving you the best food he can find.

He's not great at regulating his emotions at the best of times, but now instead of 'ANGRY ANGRY ANGRY' his mind is full of 'BREED BREED BREED'.

Enjoys bending you over so he can pound in to you and groan lewdly in your ear.

PLEASE scratch him up, your marks on him means he's fucking you just right, he wants to see them.

Asmodeous

Longest rut out of everyone, tbh he kinda always wants to breed and be bred so it's not that different for him.

He will seek you out the moment he feels it coming. He normally has demons lining up around the block for a chance with him, but he'll choose you over anyone else. Of course, if you're down to enjoy his rut with more people, then he's down for that too.

Prefers being bred over breeding, I HC that he's got both a juicy cunt AND a nice dick. He uses both, but definitely prefers getting his pussy filled.

You think Levi was loud? Try Asmo. He LOVES the sound of his voice, and he knows you love it too. He will moan the house down.

He's ridiculously sensitive and very bratty, will try and push you further in to him/push himself further in to you, he's very needy.

Unlike his brothers, he's actually not very clingy during his rut, and enjoys his personal space, like taking nice long baths before the next wave of horniness overcomes him.

Overall he's very casual about the whole thing. You wanna breed him? Okay. You want him to breed you? Easy done. As long as someone gets to enjoy him, he's happy.

Beelzebub

Another vote for average rut length, lasts about a week.

Enjoys making a lil nest for you and him to spend the week in, takes pride in his nest building abilities.

OKAY so, Beel wants a family. Idc what anyone says, he's a family man through and through.

Being that he wants a family, his rut hits him very hard. His desire to breed completely overwhelms him, he becomes the most animalistic out of all his brothers.

Also, BIG DICK = LOTS OF CUM

He will FOLD you like a deck chair, just to shove his cock as far into you as he possibly can.

Grunts and groans, will also grip you tight enough to leave bruises, he just loves u so much he wants to be as close to you as possible

"Gonna cum in you darling", "gonna make you a parent", "Fuck- you're gonna be so hot carrying my child."

Will literally carry you to impale u on his dick if you get too tired, he is not stopping until you're pregnant.

Belphegor

Lucky ass bitch has the shortest rut, lasting only two or so days.

Probably will sleep through it ngl wet dream city

If he happens to be awake, he won't ask for help directly, he'll just expect it.

He kinda already has a nest in the attic, won't really add much more to it. He'd rather preserve energy to be able to fuck you properly.

Another for 'I don't really want kids but damn nutting in u is kinda nice'

Gets more whiny during his rut, when he's close he'll let out the most angelic soft moans and whines you've ever heard.

Although he isn't super energetic on the best of days, being in his rut really saps all his energy. He's got a cycle of fuck, sleep, fuck, sleep.

Unfortunately you will have to feed him as he really does put his all in to fucking you, he doesn't even have the energy to feed himself afterwards.

Big on show, don't tell. He won't tell you how much he loves you (he's getting better at expressing his emotions, but he's getting better!) But the way he holds you close as he sleeps says more than words ever will.

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

Is it just me or do 2003 Leo and Raph have the best relationship out of all the iterations? It's my favorite, at least. Like they do get snappy with each other sometimes but their spats aren't nearly as often, as intense or festering as long as some others I've seen.

It was refreshing that Raph didn't challenge Leo's position as leader nearly as much. Sometimes he would challenge the decisions he made while leading but not undermine his position. He learned and mostly accepted that Leo would be a good leader in childhood and he backed him up nine times out of ten (even when Leo didn't know it: e.g. the "If Leo needs us, we're here. But let's see what this is all about." An instance of Raph pulling a Leo-type move, hanging back to recon rather than rushing in, while Leo's judgment was clouded. Learning from each other and supporting even from a distance)

How ready they are to be there for each other? How openly protective they are of each other? Like they're not as coy or begrudging or emotionally constipated as others about showing how much they care. Small gestures, big gestures, it doesn't matter. Leo's having trouble focusing on a plan because of the noise? Raph makes the noise go away. Wasn't Raph the first one who wanted to look for Leo when his morning training (getting ambushed by the Foot) ran unusually late? Or the scene where Leo's suddenly getting pulled away by an unknown magical force and he calls out to his brothers in alarm. Don cries, "Oh, no!" as he and Mikey stand there and watch; they freeze up. Raph dives headlong after him instantly.

And how they take it when they can't be there for each other? He dove headlong and he didn't actually make it in time to grab Leo's hand before he's gone. Master Splinter has to physically hold him back as he's still shouting and fighting to get to him (and then he has to be restrained again by magic when it looks like Leo's in danger in the 1v1 he was pulled to. Screw the fact that he's obviously outpowered by the almighty binding rules of the duel, he'll go kicking and screaming anyway, that's his bro!) And the scene where they're on top of a moving car, Leo loses his grip on Raph and he falls and from Leo's POV, time slows until he sees Raph land alright. Raph facing his fear ick about bugs, jumping down to defend Leo from the big boss bug with no hesitation when he sees him get stung? And of course when he cries just the once (as far as I recall) in the whole series when Leo's seriously hurt. How he makes me cry in SAINW as he crawls to Leo's side, reaches out for him, calls his name with his dying breath, his last word is his brother's name as he falls beside him, hand against his??? And that was after being estranged in that what-if future! LIKE BRO THAT SCENE MAKES ME WANT TO SCREAM

Even just the two or three lines where Leo's waxing poetic about their family, being completely sincere, and Mikey bursts out laughing and teases him for being a sap. Raph immediately tells Mikey to lay off and that Leo's got a point.

They're just so good. They have a few arguments like all siblings do but there is zero doubt that they love each other to pieces and they don't hesitate at all to show it on the regular. And outside of that estrangement timeframe where they were traumatized and grieving and in a literal apocalypse where they lost all hope, they didn't let their relationship fall apart the way some other iterations did. (Like I love 2007 but that fight on the rooftop? Where Raph could have killed him? I watch it and I can't help but think to myself, "2003 Leo and Raph would never." We saw them have a tussle on a rooftop and the moment there was a possibility he put Raph in real danger, Leo came to his senses and dropped everything to make sure he was okay. I dunno)

Asfjskjfks this is all just biased four AM rambling. The point is I love them, your honor, best/closest/healthiest R&B dynamic duo forever in my heart <3 (Natural disclaimer: I don't say any of this to crap on any of the other iterations. I like them all! I just like 2003's portrayal the most)

[just-some-trans-nobody]

December Christmas Monster stories

December 10.) Werewolf neighbor

Ok sorry about this one, it might technically be December 11 by the time I post it but it's still the 10th day. This one is actually going to be a two parter as I wrote so damn much for this one, it was actually meant to be far more longer than this but the rest will be for later. Walter is definitely going to have more stories writen about him.

Warnings: bodys pressing together, neck sniffing with no promotion, meantion of divorce, seasonal depression

Minors Don't Interact!!!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sitting on your couch you looked down at the pathetic box of christmas decorations. It was your first time spending Christmas completely alone. No family to come over, all your friends were too far away and spending the holidays with their own families. You didn’t even bother with getting a tree this year, you didn’t see the point of doing one all by yourself. 

Looking at your empty living room, void of any Christmas decorations it only served to make you sadder. “Maybe it couldn’t hurt to get a little tree?” You mumbled to yourself. Perhaps that’s what you needed to help cheer up your seasonal depression even for a little bit.

Throwing on a jacket and some winter boots you headed out to find a store for your impulse christmas tree purchase. You definitely weren’t planning on getting a real tree. It would be too much of a hassle getting it home alone plus you really weren’t looking forward to cleaning up pine sap and needles once it started to die. 

Making your way to the store you noticed a very familiar fuzzy shape walking on the path alone. Slowing your car down to a crawl you rolled down your window getting a much clearer view of your next door neighbor Walter the recently divorced werewolf. He was walking on the snowy sidewalk with a big flannel jacket and black jeans. The sound of your car slowing down caused his ears to perk up on high alert. Without even looking at you he sniffed the air, his tail wagged when he recognized the scent he was smelling. “Well isn’t it (Y/n)!” He said, turning his head to look at you. “Heya Walter, you need a lift? It’s pretty cold to be walking around.” You told him offering a ride, you didn’t mind pushing off shopping a little longer if it meant making sure Walter was out of the snow, nothing else at all totally not because you wanted to spend more time with your recently divorced neighbor, none at all nope. Seeing the smile he flashed you at your offer made your heart skip a beat, you blamed it on seeing his sharp teeth and not because of his smile so bright it could melt frozen butter. 

Not refusing the offer to get out of the snow Walter walked to your passenger door and got in. It was only then did you notice he was wearing booties on his paws. You wouldn’t want to be walking in the snow barefoot either. Though the sight was rather funny to see, a big bad werewolf in booties with a fur trim. 

“So where were you headed? I don’t want to take you away from where you were going too much.” Walter said not bothering to buckle up, he couldn’t buckle up in your car even if he tried. He was a little too big to sit comfortably in the passenger seat but he made it work. “Oh I was just heading to the store to see if I could find any Christmas trees for my place.” You answered honestly. In the corner of your eye you could see something moving after you spoke. Glancing his way you realized it was his tail wagging. “What a coincidence! I'm on my way to get a tree too!” He said smiling, his eyes not leaving you. As if he could pull them away, how could he when you looked so cute bundled up in that jacket. “That makes things easier then.” A chuckle left your lips as you talked causing his tail to wag again. 

Pulling into the store's parking lot you tried to find a spot closer to the front, you didn’t want to walk far in the snow. You were glad the plow trucks already came or else you would have turned around and gone home. “Want to do our shopping together? I find shopping more fun when you have someone with you.” Walter offered looking down at your shorter frame, he was just so damn tall it made you feel so small. “I don’t see why not, it makes leaving easier sense we rode here together.” Your agreement made his tail wag again, you assumed it was because he was glad he didn’t have to shop alone. 

Going in you were about to grab a cart when Walter beat you to it, stepping in front of you. “I got it, you drove me here, buying your things is the least I can do.” He said pulling out a cart, as you began to protest he held up a paw stopping you. “I insist, please.” That managed to get you to quiet down. “Alright fine, I was only going to get the tree though.” That wasn't fully true, you were looking forward to getting a shit ton of junk food and eat your feelings but you didn’t want him spending a bunch of money so you would just have to get them for your next shopping trip. Walking next to Walter you soon learned you should be walking a few steps ahead of him after you consistently got hit on the mid back by his wagging tail. It seemed almost every thing made his tail wag. A good deal on something? Tail wagging. Something he wanted was back in stock? Tail wagging again. A song he liked started playing on the store's radio? You guessed it, tail wagging. It would have been very entertaining if you weren’t in the line of fire of his wagging tail. The thing hit harder than you thought it would. You weren’t even sure he noticed he kept hitting you with it as he happily rambled on about deals going on. Seeing his cart was getting more and more filled, you started to worry a little about how much he was spending that you yourself hadn’t noticed how he kept asking if you liked certain snacks. The ones that got a positive from you went into the cart, ones you didn’t like very much went back on the shelf. Once the cart was filled to the brim with snacks, the two of you made your way away from the food area. Walter was making his way to the outdoor section for a real tree and you made a turn to the Christmas decor to get a fake tree. Noticing you weren’t next to him Walter stopped and looked around for you. Spotting you walking in a different direction he turned the cart and followed you catching up quickly thanks to his larger size. “Trees aren’t over here silly.” He said, chuckling softly. “Oh uh I was just going to get a fake one, I don’t feel like getting a real one this year.” You explained shrugging lightly as you looked up at him. “Really? Why not?” He was confused on why someone wouldn’t want a real tree. “Just doesn’t feel right getting a real tree if it’s just me, no point to it.” The effort didn’t seem worth it to you, why bother if no one was going to help with any part of itWalter’s ears flattened as his shoulders visibly dropped hearing what you had to say about getting a real tree. “Oh… there really isn’t a point for me to get a real tree this year either. Just got one every year. I didn't think about not getting one.” His voice held a sad tone as his eyes lowered to the ground, tail long stopped wagging now was tucked between his legs. 

You felt like an asshole when it hit you. This was his first christmas since his divorce, it was most likely his first christmas alone in years if not his first ever one alone. Mentally cursing yourself you raced to think of something to make this all better. “How about I spend Christmas with you? So then you can still get a real tree?” You blurted out with wide panicked eyes. Hearing that his ears perked up as he looked up at you. It was an immediate change in his demeanor, tail wagging much faster as it had been before he stood up taller. “Really? You would spend Christmas with this old fluff ball?” He asked, stepping closer to you. The closeness really putting it in your mind just how much bigger he was than you were. Gulping nervously you nodded your head, mind still reeling from your own actions. Walter swooped you up and spun you around in one fluid motion squeezing you tight. You had only seen him do this with his family before, not once had he ever with you. Stopping he looked down at you with a big smile on his face as his tail wagged a mile a minute. “Um Walter?” You spoke up after an agonizingly long moment like this. He responded with a soft hum as he leaned his snot in closer. The hot air of his breath grazed against your face sending shivers all over your body. “We’re in the middle of the store, remember?” He had seemed to have forgotten this. Lifting his head he looked around seeing there were people giving the two of you strange looks. “Whoops, got a little excited there.” Walter apologized, setting you back down on the ground. His tail hadn’t slowed down one bit. You feared he might form a tornado with how much his tail stirred up the air around him. “Well come on then, let’s go get that tree!” He said, grabbing your hand with his paw. You couldn’t help but stare at your hand intertwined with his paw. When the two of you had first met he had shaken your hand and at the time you noticed in that brief moment how soft his paw pads were. Holding his paw for much longer you really got a good feel of just how soft they were. It wasn’t just soft, no they were squishy too. You wondered if he would let you play with them some time. As your mind wondered about his soft paws your thoughts slowly grew to wonder how they would feel on other parts of your body. Catching yourself before the thoughts grew more impure as they had already gotten you shook your head trying to shoo them away. 

Walter hadn’t noticed this and you were damn glad of it. He just kept pushing the cart around with one paw as he walked much slower than he had before. You were walking slower too, it was the pace you usually had. It took you a moment longer than you would like to admit when it clicked with you that he was walking slower for your sake. Smiling softly to yourself you looked away wanting to put your focus anywhere else than Walter. Making your way into the out door section you shivered feeling an especially harsh gust of wind hit you causing you to brace yourself from the cold. It stung at your eyes making you close them tight. Expecting more wind to hit, you braced yourself again turning a little but stopped when you felt Walters paw leave your hand and wrap around you not a moment later pulling you into his side. “Look at you shivering like a chihuahua. You don’t got no way to keep you warm. Here stay close to me, I'll keep you warm.” Walter said, leaning against you. It was just so warm you couldn’t find the will to fight him on it and just accepted his embrace. Lucky for you, you were able to hide your smile by burying your face in the side of his coat, plus it kept your already freezing nose out of the snow. Walking to the trees with him Walter quietly hummed along to the song currently playing through the store's speakers. You left the tree finding to him. It seemed he knew what he was doing while you were clueless on the matter. It was obvious when he found the right tree as he excitedly moved from one paw to the other. You tried to stifle a laugh at the sight of a werewolf doing tippy tappys.  As much as you didn’t want to pull away from his warmth you knew he wouldn’t be able to drag the tree through the store while pushing the cart and also holding onto you but when you went to move away from him his grip on you tightened pulling you in closer to him. “We can still check out here right?” He called out to the one employee working gardening, they nodded their head yes. “Oh good we’ll check out here and take everything straight to the car.” Walter said, picking the tree up. “Can you come scan this for us?” He asked, holding the tree up. Walter was making things harder for himself, he should let go, why wasn’t he letting go? Looking down at you he smiled softly as he gave you a gentle squeeze. “Step onto the cart I’ll push you around, that way you can still be nice and warm.” Oh… you hadn’t thought about that, could work. Without a word you stepped up onto the cart holding onto the cart's handle bar for support. The moment you felt Walter press his chest against your back you lost every ability to breathe. You didn’t think this through. Being this close to him like this in this position? You're glad it was cold, you could blame your face being so red. 

Standing there on the cart trapped from all sides, oh boy did it make you feel things you shouldn't.

Next few minutes were a blank for you too deep in your ever growing thoughts as Walter checked out all his groceries and paid for it all. You could hear him hum again as he started walking to your car. The parking lot was quite bumpy causing the cart and you in turn to raddle like crazy. That is until Walter pressed his chest against your back stopping your shaking. His muzzle was right next to your ear. You could feel his hot breath on your neck. It sent a flood of dirty thoughts into your mind, a gasp left your lips before you could stop it. You prayed to any god out there that he didn't hear it. If he had he hadn't said anything. 

What he did notice was how your scent had changed, grown more aroused. You realized something was up when he suddenly pressed his nose to your neck and took a deep breath in. A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he inhaled your scent. The moment he caught himself doing that he pulled away in a jerking motion. “I um…” He stammered trying to think of an excuse. “I like your body wash. What is it? Daisys?” Walters heart was practically beating out of his chest, you could feel it against your back. “No uh sweat pea actually. Was on sale.” You answered in a quiet voice trying to possess what just happened. “Ah, sales love them.” He mumbled softly.

The rest of the ride home was completely silent. Neither of you baring to speak after that little incident. Pulling into his driveway you put your car in park and quietly gulped. The two of you sat in silence a few minutes more before Walter finally broke the silence. “Want to come in and decorate the tree with me?” He asked, looking at you through the corner of his eye gauging your reaction. Thinking about it you lightly chewed the bottom of your lip. Oh what the hell, what's the worst thing that could happen? “Sure.” Your answer made his tail wagged as he lit up with a bright smile. What could happen? You weren't sure what but you wanted it.