#Fern writes

[fern-writes-stories]

Miguel O’hara Headcanons

MINORS DNI !!!!!!!!!

♡ [a/n]; I am so fucking unhinged about him. anyways 🧚✨✨

✧ Pairing: Miguel O’hara x reader

✧ Summary: List of relationship headcanons for Miguel my bbg 😔<3 (smut and fluff) > > (tailored towards f! reader)

✧ Warnings: 18+/some NSFW under the cut, second POV, google translate spanish, mentions of oral (f receiving), marking/biting kink, mentions of bondage, mentions of edging, discussion of size kink, discussion of orgasms (f), lmk if I missed any!!!!!!

✑ You can find all my stories here!

✑ My request guide is here (and you can place a request here)!

✑ Like what I write? Consider leaving me a tip here!

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>> Miguel loooooves using his fangs on you. Nothing too brutal usually; he loves biting your neck, biting your shoulders, biting the insides of your thighs, biting your lips- whatever he can quite literally sink his teeth into.

>> He is very needy when he wants to be and gets touch starved very quickly, especially in his line of work; where Miguel might be away for days (or even weeks) at a time.

>> Although, somehow, he’s still very reserved when you’re in public. Nothing more than brushing your hand with his and giving you dreamy glances.

>> But once the two of you are away from prying eyes he isn’t afraid to kiss your neck or caress your thighs in a casual sense.

>> Miguel is positively crazy about you, and as such wants to make you feel so undeniably good that he will do damn near anything and everything to achieve that and get you to orgasm as many times as possible during sex.

>> For the same reason he loves giving you oral, and would do it for hours if the universe allowed him to. While he’s not stressed about receiving it in return, preferring to pleasure you, he won’t object if you offer it every once and a while. But in the end he’s quite happy to eat you out to your heart’s content.

>> Miguel alwaysss talks you through sex, and though he’ll degrade you if you ask he’s all the more about praising you for everything you do.

>> Especially in Spanish; “Eres mi niña buena, ¿no?” (You’re my good girl, aren’t you?), “Usted está haciendo tan bien, mami,” (You’re doing so well, mami,), etc.

>> Speaking of which, he has an endless supply of Spanish pet names for you. Cariño, mami, hermosa, mi cielo, mi amor, princesa and chiquita to name a few.

>> Definitely has a size kink. Just look at this fucking unit of a guy!!!!!! He loves how small you are when he looms over you in bed, how he can easily caress any part of your body with his calloused hands, how dainty (in his mind) you are compared to him. It makes him feel protective of you, too; like he’s the only person in the entire multiverse capable enough to keep you safe and happy.

>> If you asked him to pick his favourite body part of yours he wouldn’t be able to give a straight answer, he worships your entire body. Your supple breasts, your soft thighs, your sleek shoulders and tender neck, your hands which fit so perfectly entwined in his, and that preciosa (gorgeous) face of yours which he loves to kiss and admire; especially when you’re all hot steamy from sex.

>> He loves an s/o with a bit of chub, too. So much more of your delicious body for him to trail kisses across, run his hands over, to hold when he’s fucking you senseless.

>> Although Miguel loves pleasuring you he doesn’t shy away from teasing and edging, and a lot of the time he insists that you beg for your climax. He can’t help it; he just loves how you look on your knees, pleading for him to finish you off. It drives him mad with lust and you never shy away from such requests.

>> He goes crazy for any and all noises you make during sex and it’s a huge turn on for him. It lets him know how good he’s making you feel and he relishes every moan and squeak- and that fact alone nearly sends him over the edge.

>> He is so unabashedly gentle with you though, especially given his enhanced senses and abilities. There was the odd occasion where he had lost control once or twice and unintentionally roughed you up with his claws- not that you were ever excessively injured.

>> It didn’t matter to Miguel, though, because he would apologise for days and days on end regardless and do everything he could to make up for it, leaving a trail of soft kisses along the mark every day until it was gone.

>> But he’d be lying if he said there weren’t a part of him deep down that secretly enjoyed it- seeing you marked, by him, walking around with physical proof on your body that you were his and his alone.

>> He felt the same about whenever he left hickies or bite marks behind on your skin, drinking in the feeling it gave him like it was a drug.

>> If you ever feel the desire to spice up the sex you two enjoyed, Miguel is more than happy to incorporate his webs as a form of bondage. He adored the way it tied you together below him, wrapped up like a present on Christmas day just for him.

>> On that note, Miguel is never too worried about trying new sex concepts. He is open to every idea, of course, and enjoys the way you will occasionally present a new idea to him. The way you always ask him so shyly makes him want to fuck you right then and there and he laps the sensation up every time.

[witchyfern]

a poem for Brigid

Tell me, O Goddess

when they weave their words into worlds

do they still beseech you to grant them inspiration?

Brigid, of smiths, of healing, of poets

do you crown them with their wish

whether they do or don’t ask?

Goddess of many names, which have you favoured?

Bride, Brigantia, Saint Brigid

were you shaped by them as time passed

and again, and again, 

as folk put letters upon you anew?

In this age of constructs that pierce the sky 

and disdain for ancestral beliefs

what is it that keeps you here, watching over 

as the twentieth day stretches on for centuries?

Let it be that you yet know remembrance. 

Let it be that you get know honour. 

O Brigid, know that the poets still pray. 

please don’t repost this as your own!! it isn’t!! (reblogs are okay)

[diedbydeth]

i made a drabblet based on my classmates throwing away their art projects lmao

If Art Could Cry

[pt: If Art Could Cry /end pt]

The girl cried, looking at her rock with googly eyes and a drawn-on crooked smile. She turned away with her face in her hands. The rock, cursed to smile, looks down as gravity condemned it to, screaming silent pleas, shedding empty tears, and feeling emotionless feelings. Little did she know, it would stay there. When sun met ground, when rock met earth, through dusk and through dawn, through life and through death, it would stay there. Whether in a closet, whether in a dumpster, perhaps obliterated to a million pieces, perhaps set on fire. There it would be, smiling, awaiting the day where she would turn around and smile back.

end

its not my best by far (i thought this up and wrote it all in one hour (which was 1 am if you’re curious)) but idk.

(ps this does NOT represent my stance on thrown away art, i do not give a shit about what you do with your art. that’s just what inspired me.)

[littlefernghost]

Hiii! My name is Fern or Finn and I use they/she/faer pronouns.

I am a minor and an age dreamer. I will post most often about things relating to age dreaming. My middlespace age is most often 7-12.

I am autistic and have anxiety.

Tags:

#Fern writes: rambles and other stuff that doesn't fit under other tags.

#Fern's library: stuff about stories and storytelling. Will be tagged with #Fern's archive if it was not created by me (e.g. books or RPGs).

#Changeling Fern: stuff related to fairies and changelings, often fits under the Changeling core aesthetic.

#Fern makes: art and stuff

DNI if your blog is not safe for kids or you wouldn't show your blog to a kid. Toxic fans, ableist racist, and anti-LGBTQ+ blogs DNI.

[fern-writes-whump]

Whumpee pleads for mercy, begs to be spared. "I want to go home!" they cry and whimper.

Whumper shakes their head.

"You don't get to want things."

[captainfern]

May i request your majesty 🐈..

Cosy! Sfw (or if you find a way to make it NSFW then go wild) headcanon/ imagine of fem! Reader, reading to the boys every night or after a mission?? Like.. so mother ?? Bc they mostly fight and train and wrestle so, they have a lil calm, story time moment with the reader ??

Ugh I’m reading a book rn and thinking I just wanna mother these boys and read them a story!! Babies !!!

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"This Is Not A Book Club"

141 x gn!reader [platonic!]

[Imagines 1]

[SFW]

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• summary - what the request says :) • rating - sfw • wordcount - 1.8k • warnings - ik the request is for fem!reader but no specific pronouns/gendered language are used in this, pet name "love" is used once tho, strong language, no smut sorry fellow whores ✋

this idea is so fucking cute i just had to write it omfg. also i love that gif soap and ghost's interactions are just too adorable *pat pat*

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You didn't mean for it to become a habit.

It began on a whim.

After a strenuous mission, you relaxed in your respective room, curled up in your bed, reading a book. The main light was off, and you relied on the soft glow of the lamp on your bedside table. It was a relatively new book— you were only a chapter or so in— when a light knock at your door made you jump.

You hadn't been expecting it. It was pretty late, too.

You were surprised when Gaz poked his head in, apologising for interrupting. He figured he could unwind in your room, since the rest of the 141 were doing their own thing, and he needed some company.

You accepted, of course— how could you not when he looked at you with those deep brown eyes?

He settled on the bed next to you, sprawling himself across it near your feet. You laughed as he sighed, face buried in your duvet. He lifted his head, peering at you quizzically.

"What are you reading?" He asked.

You held the book up. "I... honestly don't know. It's pretty good, so far though."

He hummed, intrigued, as he scooted closer to you, head now resting parallel to your thighs.

"Read to me?" He asked, long eyelashes casting shadows across his cheekbones beneath the lamplight.

You smiled. "I'm two chapters in."

"That's okay," he muttered. "Just fill me in on what's happening."

You did, explaining the last couple of chapters in as much detail as possible. You then told him what the book was about, reading the little summary on the back. By this stage, his head was now resting on your lap atop the blanket, hand cupping your slightly bent knee.

"Right, okay," he said. "Now you can read from where you were reading."

You chuckled at his enthusiasm for you to hurry up and begin. So, you obliged, reading a couple of chapters before his breathing slowed. You looked away from your book, realising that he had fallen asleep, head still resting in your lap. You smiled, gently patting his head.

He mumbled incoherently.

"Gaz, come on, you fell asleep," you giggled, nudging him. "You need to go to bed."

He yawned, forcing himself to sit up. His eyes drooped, bleary with drowse as he stumbled off of your bed.

"Fine, but I'll be back for the next chapter tomorrow." He muttered, leaving with his eyes barely open.

The next evening, at roughly the same time, Gaz found his way into your room again. This time, with Soap in tow.

"Soap?" You greeted skeptically.

"Gaz said you're reading to him. I like a good storytime, too." He smiled, sprawling himself out on the rug beside your bed. He didn't give you any room for argument as Gaz resumed his place resting against your lap.

"Oh...kay... do you want me to fill you in?" You asked as you grabbed your book from your bedside table.

Soap shook his head. "No, no, don't worry. Gaz filled me in on the way here."

You laughed. "Of course he did."

So that's how you began reading to both Gaz and Soap. That night, Soap did much the same as Gaz did previously by falling asleep— face to the ceiling, stretched out on your plush rug. His soft snores prompted your eyes away from the pages. Gaz, too, was drifting in and out of consciousness.

You closed the book gently. "Okay, you two, time for bed."

Gaz got up without much of a fuss, but he had to shake Soap to get the man to cooperate. Soap grumbled and complained the entire time Gaz hoisted him to his feet. Then, still muttering grumpily under his breath, he let Gaz lead him out of the room.

The next day really confused you.

Both Gaz and Soap turned up, and once they were comfortable in their usual positions, a soft knock echoed through your room. Soap opened the door for Price, much to your astonishment.

"You too?" You questioned as your captain took up position in your desk chair, near the foot of your bed.

He relaxed in the chair, legs spread and arms folded across his chest.

"Got nothing else to do, love." He said simply, imploring you to pick up the book with a nod of his head.

You were in slight disbelief, but nevertheless, you continued with the book. While Gaz and Soap relaxed, listening to the peaceful lull of your voice, Price asked the occasional question. You stopped patiently and replied, ignoring the frustrated groans from Soap on your floor.

"Just shut up and listen, Price."

"Watch it, MacTavish."

Not long later, you managed to finish the chapter before Soap fell asleep. You waved them all goodbye as they filed out of your room, and you forced yourself not to laugh as they did.

Now, if you were confused before, the next day threw you completely.

Once again, Gaz lay sprawled out on your bed beside you, Soap on the floor with his arms behind his head. Price returned, too, taking his place in your chair. Then, just one word into the newest chapter, the door creaked open.

Ghost slipped in, almost silently, and you couldn't help but gape at your lieutenant as he lumbered into the room, cozy black hoodie on and hands jammed into the front pocket.

"L.T, I knew you couldn't resist," Soap beamed from the floor. "You want in on the book club?"

You scoffed, smiling. "This is not a book club."

Ghost just shrugged at Soap. "Lonely outside when I can't hear you lot making a racket."

He stepped over Soap and sunk himself onto the end of your bed, leaning himself up against the wall. He stretched his legs out, brushing your and Gaz's feet, knees cracking as he settled down.

You stared at everyone, slightly dumbfounded. Then, you turned to Ghost.

"You're... here willingly?" You asked him.

"Mhm."

"You... willingly want to listen to me read my book?"

"Mhm."

You took a deep breath. "Right, okay, cool. Um, do you need—?"

"Johnny's given me a rundown." He mumbled.

Of course he had.

And that's how it started, just over two weeks ago. Every night, especially after a particularly rough mission, the boys seemed to gravitate to your bedroom. They'd curl up and listen to your soft voice as you read to them; reading them to sleep on many occasions.

Despite Ghost and Price's lack of enthusiasm compared to Soap and Gaz, you could tell they enjoyed it just as much as the younger two did. It made you smile, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside knowing you could bring these hardened military boys some peace and comfort.

"Okay, so you're telling me, the kid didn't even know he was a wizard?" Price asked, leaning forward in his chair.

You laughed. "No, he didn't. Well, now he does."

"Ridiculous." Price muttered, shaking his head.

Ghost scoffed. "It's unrealistic."

Soap rolled his eyes. "Obviously, Ghost, it's a fucking fictional book about wizards an' shite."

"No, I mean, some big cunt with a beard turned up with a fucking ugly cake and told the kid he's a wizard, and the kid just believed him?" Ghost grumbled. His attitude had definitely shifted since the first time he joined their little, as Soap called it, book club.

"Yeah, basically." You smiled.

You had just introduced them to the Harry Potter series. You weren't even halfway through the first book yet.

"Ridiculous." Ghost said, echoing Price.

"Well, what would you have done, eh?" Soap questioned, sitting up, now cross-legged on the fluffy rug.

"What, if a big cunt called Hagrid turned up on my eleventh birthday and told me I'm a wizard?" Ghost mused. "Woulda knifed him, Johnny."

"Whatever." Soap scoffed.

When they weren't arguing about the book you were reading them, the night's with the boys were really peaceful. Relaxing, too.

A balm for their tortured souls, and a salve for the wounds they had earned during battle.

Dusk would fall, and they would limp into the comfort of your bedroom, warm and smelling sweetly of you. Waves of exhaustion would pin them in place while they clung to the presence of you for stability. Some days, all four would find themselves curled up on your bed— Gaz laying next to you, head on your lap; Soap on the floor, but his head resting on the edge of your bed, a hand resting in the crook of your arm as you held the book; Ghost with his back to the wall, your legs propped up over his, his gloved hands stroking circles on your shins; Price settled next to Ghost, shoulder to shoulder, his legs beneath yours as well, a hand resting warmly around your ankle.

They listened carefully, silently, as you read to them, basking in the comforting warmth of you. Battered, bruised, and bleeding from the cuts of battle, they rested tranquilly at your side. Their ears were no longer ringing with echoes of explosions, nostrils no longer filled with the acrid stench of gunpowder and death. They could hear only you, voice silken with each word you spoke. They could smell only you, the candles that burned and permeated the air, rich and sweet and a consoling sense of familiarity.

Towards the end of a chapter, you could sense a shift in the room. Some time ago, Soap had wiggled in beside you, head in the bend of your arm and shoulder. He breathed deeply, slowly, eyes closed and hair dishevelled against the sleeve of your shirt. Gaz, too, breathed slowly as sleep had overtaken him, hand still heavy on your knee.

Ghost had slumped to the side, somehow managing to tuck his hulking frame between Gaz and the wall. Mask still on, you could see his eyes, closed and smeared with black. Price, too, had fallen asleep; still, impressively, sitting upright. His head tilted forward, hat low over his forehead, snoring softly.

You sighed to yourself, closing the book and carefully putting it back on your nightstand, mindful not to disrupt Soap curled into your side like a cat. You nestled back into your bed, snuggled up with your task force, a sight you had never thought you'd see. As you wiggled to get comfortable, Soap stirred, groaning as he looked up at you, still resting his head near your chest.

"S'all right, go back to sleep." You whispered, angling your arm so it draped securely over top of him.

He didn't reply verbally, just burrowed deeper into your side, reaching a hand around to physically tighten your arm around him. He ran his thumb over your knuckles, before he fell back asleep.

Your other hand found Gaz's head, delicately skimming his hairline, smoothing along the soft skin of his forehead and cheek. You heard him sigh contentedly, still deep asleep.

Eventually, the warmth of the room and powerful bodies around you carried you to sleep.

And it was the best sleep you ever had.

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idk if this was good or not lmao but thank you my darling anon <3 this was nice to write mwah mwah xx

[taro-pdf]

Humans are Space Oddities: Foster Human

When humans went to space, they expected themselves to be one of the more advanced species, only to find that space was already very populated. To less advanced, they were predators, and to more advanced, savages. Space is vast, and eventually some humans were kept as novelties.

Guang was excited to foster a human. After all, it had read about how humans would fight anything, eat anything, and survive anything. And though Guang was not strong, it’s partner, Hei, was, and would keep it safe.

The human arrived disgruntled, but Guang was not perturbed. It had heard of their pack-bonding abilities, and was ready to be patient and gentle. It even made sure to pick one that knew the Universal Interplanetary Language, so they didn’t need to wait for translators to work. Guang moved and spoke slowly; they didn’t need anything to slow the communication process more. It bent down to eye level.

“Hello. My name is Guang, it/its, a light alien. I process slowly, so don’t speak too fast. I am glad that you arrived safely. You are called Fern, she/her, human, correct?”

The human flapped her hands, nervous, or maybe excited. “Human, correct?” she repeated, then spouted out, “Hei is a powerful space fae that was born on earth but left as its magic grew," she inhaled, obviously making an effort to slow her speech. Guang blinked. It appreciated her effort, but why was she telling it about its own partner? The human continued, “this is common for fae. Did you know space fae are understudied due to the fact that they are extremely powerful and hard to approach? It’s theorized their power comes from dark matter.”

“Right,” Guang replied, “well-”

“Light aliens are a species often used for service for the ultra wealthy,” the human interrupted. “They are treated as living lamps due to their ability to produce both bioluminescent and electrical light extremely efficiently, as well as their ability to stay still for long periods of time.” 

Humans did like to talk, but Guang was unsure if this is what they usually talked about. 

“That’s correct,” it replied. It sat down and held out its hand, which the human grabbed and studied. “I was also on a ship from hatching until Hei approached me and I was given to it as a gift. But it treated me as a being, and I learned to think of myself as a being as well.”

“I’m a being as well,” the human said, dropping Guang’s hand and turning to the door. Guang followed their line of sight to see Hei walking in. It had taken a smaller, humanoid form, as Guang had asked it to.

“Hello Fern,” it said, speaking its native tongue.

“Hello Fern,” Fern repeated in the same language, approaching Hei. It squinted at her.

“Pardon me, do you understand what I am saying?” it asked. The human didn’t reply. She gazed at Hei’s translucent wings, and it turned so she could touch them.

“She’s been repeating what I say as well,” Guang explained.

“Call the agency and ask. The human should have been told how to introduce itself.” Hei handed Guang a communicator. The human mumbled something about aerodynamics.

“In the broader universe, convergent evolution meant that wings…” Fern started to explain.

With the human telling bits of information in the background, Guang called the agency. It was referred to a specialist that told it that human neurology varied greatly. The human’s behavior was not worrisome, but it may socialize differently than typical humans. If that’s a problem, it could be returned. Guang assured them it was not a problem.

At the end of the fostering period, Hei and Guang had learned much about their visitor. They learned to avoid certain textures, loud noises, and flashing lights. They learned that the human could tell them about almost any alien they wished. They learned that not every human would fight anything, and definitely wouldn’t eat anything. 

“Fern,” Guang’s chest had been feeling tighter and tighter as the day to return her grew closer, “I was wondering if you would like to stay?”

Fern was outside tending to the various lower species that she had befriended during her time on Hei’s planet. She didn’t turn toward Guang, but she did repeat its words.

“Like to stay.”

“Right,” Guang agreed, “I don’t want to treat you as a belonging to borrow and return. Being once one myself, and knowing you so well… I want you to stay”

“Humans have a rich history on their planet. They fought each other in countless wars. Some wars were for resources, others were for freedom.”

“I didn’t know that.” Guang was silent for a bit.

“Humans want freedom. It’s in their DNA. I’d like to stay.” Fern smiled, and Guang smiled back. Humans were ferocious, tenacious, and violent, but they were also gentle. Fern was proof of that.

[ivymarquis]

ghost + "like what you see?"

😘

Sin Sunday

Cardio

Pairing| Simon Riley x F!Reader Rating| T Word Count| ~450 Kinks/Content/Warnings| Nothing too exceptional; some jokey slut shaming because we love a good grey sweatpants 🤭 Technically SFW just because Im trying to keep these short otherwise they will become 5k works and take 3 calendar years to answer. Also TECHNICALLY this fits @glitterypirateduck’s ghost challenge with the grey sweatpants so 😎😎😎😎

“Where are you going, dressed like a slut?”

Simon might be a man of few words, but there are few times in life where he’s rendered well and truly speechless.

It takes a second, but he does eventually find words. It’s obvious from your tone that you’re being a little cocktease, but he’s fully dressed. A session at the gym with Johnny is a routine occurrence. He’s wearing a T-shirt and full length sweatpants for fuck’s s-

Ah. The grey sweatpants. That’s what’s got you all hot and bothered.

He doesn’t get exactly what the appeal is- wasn’t even thinking about it, really when he got dressed.

You’re staring him down like a dog tempted with a bone, and Simon’s got a decision to make, doesn’t he?

“Like what you see, do you?”

Your answer is a simple nod, eyes trained on the sweatpants.

“Was gonna go hit the gym with Johnny. Not sure if that’s the plan anymore.”

He most assuredly can continue on with his plans for the day- go get a workout with Johnny, come back and fuck you stupid.

But clearly he’s got your attention front and center. That is a difficult thing to walk away from.

“Don’t let me get in the way of your plans,” you assure him. “But do hurry back. I’ll uh,” your eyes flick up to him and roam, appreciating the absolute unit of a man you get to call yours, “I’ll be here.”

“That so?” He questions. “Cause now I’m thinking today’s more a day for cardio.”

You pick up on his subtle implication immediately, and given how you go stock-still he shouldn’t be surprised when you’re shooting up from the couch, using the piece of furniture as a barrier to tease him.

Oh now it’s fucking on. You want to play a game, do you?

He can’t help but feel the affection he has for you spill over as he watches and immediately complies with your game. The bright eyed sparkle as you grin and giggle at him, faking out one direction or the next and leading him to chase you around the furniture- just out of reach that he can’t grab you across the shorter side.

Course, he’s on a highly skilled task force and you aren’t, so this little game will only go for as long as Simon feels like. But there’s no fun in not humoring you, is there?

Simon gets in his head enough you actually do manage to fake him out, taking advantage of the opportunity to bolt past him towards the bedroom.

The best kind of quarry is one that wants to be caught, he can’t help but think to himself as he chases after you.

[fern-writes-stories]

Together Again

♡ [a/n]; I love these two so much!! :(

✧ Pairing: Sonic x Shadow

✧ Word Count: 4,457

✧ Summary: Sonic and Shadow have not seen each other in a very long time, and old feelings get rekindled when they meet face-to-face again.

✧ Warnings/Tags: Fluff, aged-up, I know hedgehogs don’t actually wag their tails but idc, Shadow POV, legal alcohol consumption/mentions, confessions, first kiss, wholesome, lmk anything else I should tag !!

✑ You can find all my stories here!

✑ My request guide is here (and you can place a request here)!

✑ Like what I write? Consider leaving me a tip here!

-

It was funny. 

To Shadow it was, at least. 

He and Sonic had slowly grown apart over the years, though not of their own volition. It was occupational, really. Team Dark had decided to pursue broader horizons, leaving them no choice but to move away from Green Hill. Tails and Sonic had moved closer to the city and Amy had made the full leap to city life. Knuckles was the only one who stayed rural at all. 

At least they were all within a town of each other,  Shadow brooded. He’d had no such contact with any of their old friends since they’d left. Not that he didn’t enjoy the company of Rouge and Omega; he’d decided to move across the world with them, after all. But he was not the type to upkeep online appearances and soon enough Sonic’s bright demeanour and even brighter smile were all he could remember amongst the constant missions and assignments.

He couldn’t recall how close he’d actually been with Sonic before they’d parted ways; how much of it was real, how much was twisted in the mind of his younger self and warped further by time. 

Yet somehow Shadow could still recall how naive he had been about it all, nonchalant and insensitive. He wished he had left in a kinder manner. He regretted coming across as though he did not care. He still distinctively remembered the aching in his chest after finally coming to terms with it all.

No more petty arguments. No more spontaneous sparring matches. No more of that smug smile he so desperately wished he could punch clean off Sonic’s face at times.

And then when Team Dark had finally decided to move back home- or at least closer to it- Shadow so desperately did not want to. Being forced to face them all again and deal with the repercussions of a younger Shadow’s ego and pride was something he was not ready for.

It had been three years. Almost four. 

He felt like he knew nothing about them anymore. It made him so inexplicably nervous not to know something, especially when it was people he used to know so well. Shadow wanted to preserve the good memories he had instead of trying to make new ones. He knew he was being drastic- but he didn’t much care.

So only Chaos knows how Rouge managed to convince Shadow to move back near Green Hill with her and Omega. Perhaps there was a part of him that was curious enough to oblige. But all curiosity had left him the moment that they arrived.

And there he sat, neatly placed at one end of a couch. The walls were bare and smelled of fresh paint. The air was cold and felt abnormal. He did not like having a new home.

“Come on, Shadow- you’re sitting on a couch, why do you look so stiff?” Rouge chided. The sound of her heels clicking against the floorboards became louder as she neared.

“I do not like it here,” he muttered.

“Not yet, you don’t,” Rouge replied, moving to stand in front of him. “We still have to unpack everything. It’ll start feeling more like home after that.”

Shadow’s ear flicked. Rouge sighed.

“Can you at least pretend you’re happy to be here?” She joked.

“No.” Shadow moved to fix his quills, smoothing them several times before his hands returned to sit neatly on his lap again.

“Well, regardless, can you please help Omega bring up the rest of the moving boxes-”

“NEGATIVE,” a robotic voice rang out, and a moment later Omega appeared through the front door. “I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF COMPLETING THE ASSIGNED OBJECTIVE SINGLE-HANDEDLY.” A large box was positioned on one of his shoulders as he ambled his way farther into the room. Then he stopped suddenly.

Shadow and Rouge watched as Omega outstretched his arms and purposely dropped the box, a loud shattering noise ringing throughout the house. He offered a nonchalant thumbs up before turning around and leaving- presumably to grab another box.

Rouge sighed again, pinching above her nose. “I guess we’re going to be using paper cutlery for the housewarming party...”

Shadow’s ears perked suddenly and he turned back around to face her. “The what?”

He sounded panicked and Rouge felt herself cringe at her own callousness. “Sorry, Shadow. I meant to tell you at a better time.”

“When is it?” He asked quickly, referring to the party. 

Rouge looked off to the side anxiously. “It’s... still a little while away...”

“NEGATIVE. OBSERVATION: ROUGE IS LYING TO MAKE SHADOW FEEL BETTER. THE TRUTH: THE SO-CALLED “HOUSEWARMING PARTY” IS SCHEDULED FOR THE END OF THE WEEK.”

“Omega!” Rouge exclaimed. “We talked about this! You promised you wouldn’t say anything!”

Shadow began to fidget with his inhibitor rings.

“NEGATIVE. I NEVER SETTLED ON SUCH AN AGREEMENT.” Shadow heard another box crash to the ground before Omega’s heavy footsteps trailed away again.

“You need to cancel it,” Shadow said, staring at the ground.

“I can’t, hon, I’ve already sent out all the invites- I’d feel horrible if I had to cancel everything now.” A moment of silence passed. “I’m sorry, Shadow. I just thought you’d like to see some familiar faces again. I know you don’t like sudden changes, including us moving back here in the first place, so I was hoping that meeting up with all of our friends again would lessen the blow.”

Rouge moved to sit beside Shadow on the couch. “I’m sorry if I just ended up making things worse.”

Shadow swallowed a harsh remark. He knew she was only trying to help. “It’s... okay.” He sighed, looking up from his inhibitors finally. “I appreciate that you attempted to do such a thing for me.”

Though his expression was blank, Rouge had known Shadow for long enough to know that he was speaking sincerely. 

“It... will be okay,” he continued. “This new house will be okay. The... party will be okay. Maybe it won’t be so bad.” 

He ignored the anxiety clawing at his stomach, screaming and pleading with him to beg Rouge to cancel the party anyway. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Rouge placed a comforting hand on Shadow’s knee, offering a small smile. “I’m glad. Now let’s go stop Omega before he destroys any more of our dinnerware.”

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

What was funny to Shadow was how inexplicably nervous he was. He tugged at the hem of his jacket- Rouge said he would look nice if he wore it tonight. He felt like a little kid again.

He’d been through much worse, surely. The past few years had presented him with many unique and dangerous scenarios, yet somehow nothing held a candle to this.

There’s not even anyone here yet, Shadow scolded himself. Yet somehow that almost makes it worse…

It was the waiting that got to him the most. Far different to staking out undesirable individuals or the stealth required to infiltrate a building. At least with those scenarios his stomach didn’t churn with anxiety and his quills didn’t stand on end.

Shadow glanced around the house; once empty only a few days earlier, now covered from head to toe with tacky streamers and cheap balloons. Multicoloured lights were strung along the walls and loose ends hung down, an inch or two too short to finish tying up.

The first knock on the door had been Amy which was less than a surprise. She was early, and Shadow immediately noticed how different she looked. Her quills were cut differently and she was wearing a stylish colour of eyeliner which matched her long dress.

Upon seeing her Shadow finally realised just how much everyone must have grown up. Surely not everyone had changed so much! Though his fears were all but confirmed when more guests began to arrive. Even Knuckles had changed to some degree; various beads and wraps decorated his spines and looked as though they had been a staple of his appearance for a while.

Shadow tried his best to greet everyone alongside Rouge, though other than that, he remained reserved and away from the loud music and blinking lights that were assaulting his senses.

Then eventually Tangle and Whisper arrived, hands entwined. Rouge made some playful comment that Shadow didn’t hear and Tangle replied to it.

“Man, I forgot how long you guys have been gone for… yeah, Whisper and I have been together for a while now,” Tangle explained bashfully, glancing over to her girlfriend for a moment.

“I’m so happy for both of you!” Rouge moved to embrace the two excitedly. “I was wondering when you two would finally get together,” she added playfully, though Shadow had stopped listening after that. He had begun to feel quite ill.

I wonder if Sonic will be with anybody. He thought anxiously. Shadow thought for a moment.

It doesn’t matter, he snapped quickly to himself. Why would I care, anyway?

Soon fewer and fewer guests began to arrive until eventually the flow stopped completely. Shadow now stood at the edge of the main room beside Rouge, red cup in hand as he stared at the front door. Rouge was catching up with Amy and Blaze. He hadn’t the brightest idea what they were talking about, too entrenched in his own thoughts.

“Shadow?” He heard Rouge’s voice. She snapped her fingers in front of his face and he turned to look at her.

“What is it?” He asked.

“I was worried the door was about to burst into flames,” she muttered. “What’s wrong? Is it too loud in here? I can get Omega to turn down the music if you’d like-”

“No, it’s fine,” Shadow reassured her quietly. He honestly hadn’t been focused enough to hear the music until now.

“Then what’s wrong?” Rouge pressed.

“Are you waiting for someone?” Amy asked, turning to glance at the door as well. Shadow began to feel his face heat up and he took a sip from his drink, burying his face in the cup.

“Who’s not here yet?” Amy asked, turning back to Rouge and Blaze. “I thought everyone would have arrived by now.”

“Sonic and Tails,” Blaze pointed out, and Amy rolled her eyes. “Sonic isn’t exactly known for his punctuality.”

“You’d think he would have learned some responsibility by now,” Amy jokingly agreed.

Shadow stared into his cup still, using the strong smell of the alcohol to ground himself. His ears flicked towards the door as he heard Omega move to open it. He must have been too distracted to have heard anyone knock.

The door opened and Shadow was unable to see who it was from behind Omega, but when the robot finally moved he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

“Speak of the devil!” Rouge exclaimed, Sonic ambling through the front door behind Tails. Shadow barely processed that Tails was about as tall as Sonic now, if not taller.

“Sorry we’re late, everyone!” Sonic called out bashfully, and the entire cohort seemed to sigh and roll their eyes communally.

“It was Sonic’s fault,” Tails muttered, though that seemed to be collectively agreed upon already.

“For the fastest hedgehog in the world, he sure does love being late all the time,” Amy muttered.

“Uh… Shadow?” Rouge whispered, trying not to gain the attention of Amy or Blaze. Shadow managed to drag his concentration from Sonic to turn and look at her again.

“What?”

“Why are you doing that?” She asked. Shadow was about to ask for clarification before he followed her line of sight, realising that his tail had begun to wag involuntarily.

He quickly leaned back against the wall behind him with a loud thud, making Blaze and Amy turn to see what had happened.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He moved to take another drink from his cup.

“Rouge, Shads!” Came Sonic’s voice suddenly. Before he could even redirect his attention Shadow was engulfed in a tight embrace, the blue quills that were mere inches from his face clueing him into who was responsible. From his position in the hug Shadow could see that Sonic’s tail was wagging very quickly.

“Oh, right- sorry!” Sonic stumbled over his words for a moment as he pulled back from Shadow abruptly. “I forgot that you aren’t really a hugger,” Sonic apologised. Shadow wasn’t sure how to respond, frozen in place.

“Well I am,” Rouge said, moving to embrace Sonic once he’d distanced himself from Shadow.

“Hey, Rouge!” Sonic greeted her, returning the embrace happily. “It’s so good to see you guys again- Are you happy to be back?”

“I am- Shadow’s having a harder time adjusting, though,” she replied as they parted. Shadow’s ear flicked at her comment.

Now that Sonic was standing in front of him Shadow could take in his appearance fully. Surprisingly, Sonic looked majorly the same as he had before Team Dark left- albeit being taller now, and slightly scruffier somehow.

He was wearing a red and white letterman jacket. Shadow also noticed that Sonic had new shoes, wondering if they were what he usually wore or if they were just for the party.

“I like your jacket,” Sonic said suddenly, nodding towards Shadow. Shadow felt himself startle at his words.

“I like yours too,” he replied. Shadow then became acutely aware of the fact that he had begun to crease the plastic cup he was now holding far too tightly.

“Hon, why don’t you go show Sonic where the drinks are?” Rouge suggested, pushing him off the wall and almost directly into Sonic. Shadow caught himself quickly before glaring back at her.

“Looks like you need a new cup, anyway,” she pointed out. He tried to ignore the knowing smirk on her lips.

“Fine. Sounds like a great idea.” It took all of Shadow’s willpower not to crush the cup entirely at that moment. He turned back to Sonic.

“Follow me,” he muttered quietly before sauntering off.

Shadow could feel Sonic’s eyes on him as they walked and decided to pull his jacket down over his tail before it began to wag mindlessly again.

Chaos, this can’t be happening. He was thankful for the current darkness of the house and tried desperately to focus on the lyrics of whatever generic pop song was playing.

A moment later they arrived at the kitchen and a large ice-filled cooler was now visible on the floor.

“There’s more in the fridge,” Shadow said, standing so his tail was once again squashed against the wall.

“Wow, and you guys are just letting people have whatever they want?” Sonic asked in disbelief, opening the fridge and staring in awe at the sheer amount of alcohol.

“G.U.N gifted us a large amount of money for our services,” Shadow explained.

“What, did you guys retire for good, or something?”

“No, just taking a step back from it all.” Shadow turned to toss his crinkled cup into the trash. “They wanted to organise a ‘thank you’ gift for us. Some of it was alcohol but it was mostly money. Rouge wanted to buy some extra refreshments for tonight and Omega over-spent on everything, so now we’re stuck with it.”

“Omega bought all of this?” Sonic laughed, grabbing from a shelf before finally closing the fridge.

“Yes,” Shadow held back a laugh of his own. “Though unfortunately, Rouge is particularly partial to wine, alcohol has little to no effect on me, and Omega cannot ingest it at all. So we’re letting people take what they like.”

“I’m certainly not complaining,” Sonic said as he twisted off the bottle’s cap. “I was in such a rush to get here that I forgot to organise my own drinks.”

“Why were you late, anyway?” Shadow asked. Not that he was upset about it- only curious.

“Er…” Sonic took a quick sip of his drink. “Do you still have Dark Rider?”

Shadow blinked at him. “My motorcycle? Of course, I do.” He wondered what the question had to do with Sonic’s punctuality.

Sonic reached into his quills and his hand returned a moment later holding a small parcel, handing it to Shadow.

“Sorry it’s kinda messy,” he apologised, taking another anxious sip from his drink.

Shadow took the box gingerly and looked it over. It was wrapped in crumpled red wrapping paper and taped crudely along the edges, as well as in places where the paper appeared to have torn. It was accentuated with a black ribbon that was poorly tied around the entire box and finished into a bow on top, the ribbon barely long enough to hold itself in place.

“Oh.” Shadow looked between the gift and Sonic for a moment.

“You can open it now if you want, you just can’t tell Rouge or Omega about it, yeah? I haven’t exactly got anything organised for them yet…” Sonic rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Shadow untied the bow and began to tear the wrapping paper away to reveal a plain cardboard box. He lifted the top and stared down at a pair of black motorcycle gloves.

“I hope you like them! I wasn’t even sure if you still used your motorcycle- or if you already had a pair of gloves-  or if you’d even use them-” Sonic had begun to ramble, looking anywhere but Shadow and waving his hands around as he explained himself.

“Th-Thanks,” Shadow said suddenly, and Sonic stopped speaking to look at him. “They’re… perfect. Thank you, I really like them.” He felt his face get hot again as he stumbled over his words.

Sonic looked elated by this response and Shadow could see his tail wagging again. Sonic must have noticed him staring before he realised what was happening, moving to grab his tail quickly.

“S-Sorry! This thing’s got a mind of its own, I swear,” his face reddened.

Shadow could feel his own tail begin to move as well, moving to grab it too. “I’ll be right back. J-Just need to… put this away quickly.” He cursed himself for stumbling again and sped off before Sonic could respond.

Shadow dashed to the stairs and quickly climbed them, turning into his room and all but slamming the door behind him. He stood pressed back against it for a moment, trying to calm himself down.

All this time he had thought his anxiety stemmed from the idea of the party itself, maybe even the sheer amount of old faces he felt terrible for feeling distanced from- but everything only felt so much worse when Sonic had finally arrived.

Worse? Is that what he was feeling? Surely not, if his tail insisted on having a mind of its own. Shadow felt anxious and like his heart was racing a million miles an hour. But every time Sonic did something- anything, really- he was overcome with such immense joy and his face would feel like it was on fire, his thoughts becoming foggy.

This was very unusual behaviour for Shadow, and he feared that he might have been coming down with something, stomach twisting with nausea suddenly.

He moved to sit on the edge of his bed, staring down for a long moment at the gift Sonic had gotten him. It was extraordinarily thoughtful, especially for someone Shadow considered to be quite air-headed at the best of times.

There was a light knock on the door and Shadow looked up at it. When the door didn’t immediately open he deduced that it mustn’t have been Rouge coming to collect him- who else could it have been, then?

Whoever it was knocked again and Shadow was brought back to the present, moving to place the gift box down delicately on his bedside table before standing to answer the door.

“Hello-?” He started as he opened it, stopping short when he was met face-to-face with Sonic again. Shadow could feel his quills standing on end.

“Hey, Shads… Um, Rouge said your room was up here, and that I should come and check up on you. She said she didn’t think you’d be returning to the party any time soon.” Sonic looked nervous, face still flushed. “But if you want me to go, I can-”

“No!” Shadow said far too quickly. He cleared his throat in an attempt to recompose himself, opening the door wider. “No, it’s fine. You can come in if you’d like.”

He moved to the side and Sonic walked into the room, Shadow closing the door behind him.

“I brought you a drink,” Sonic offered, holding out an alcoholic beverage.

“Oh. Thank you.” Shadow took it before moving to sit on the edge of his bed again. Sonic glanced briefly around the room before deciding to sit beside him.

“I was a little surprised when we received the party invite from Rouge,” Sonic began.

“Oh?” Shadow took a small sip of his drink.

“Yeah, I didn’t think you would want to throw a party in the first place.”

“I… didn’t.” Shadow corrected him. “It was Rouge’s idea. She tried to keep the party a secret from me so I wouldn’t ‘freak out’,” he added.

Sonic laughed, the sound making Shadow’s stomach do somersaults. “Well, I guess some things never change.”

“I see Tails is starting to grow up, though,” Shadow said, trying to keep the conversation going. Sonic sighed.

“Yeah, he’s as tall as I am now. And he’s only- what, 14?”

“Time flies, as they say.”

“Sure does,” Sonic agreed lightheartedly. A moment of silence passed.

“So…” Shadow began slowly. “Are you… seeing anyone at the moment?” He covered his question with another, very long, sip from his drink.

“Are you?” Sonic replied, a wide smile on his face. Shadow looked away from him abashedly.

“Sorry. You don’t have to answer that question, it’s none of my business.”

“Nah, I’m not with anybody,” Sonic replied after a moment, leaning back on one of his arms as he looked around the minimally decorated room. “I just… haven’t got enough time, I guess. I move too fast for most people.”

“I don’t think so.” 

Sonic turned to meet his eyes and Shadow began to fiddle with the zipper on his jacket. He turned away suddenly. “And to answer your question, no; I am not seeing anyone, either.”

Sonic looked like he was about to say more when something caught his eye. “Hey, is that what I think it is?” He asked, leaning across Shadow to retrieve the item from the bedside table. “Wow, I can’t believe you kept this!” He exclaimed excitedly.

“Of course I did,” Shadow replied almost timidly, turning his head to the side in a shy manner. He glanced back at what Sonic was holding; a black coffee mug with some corny pun on it pertaining to the owner.

“Why isn’t it in the kitchen?” Sonic asked, looking it over in his hands.

Shadow shrugged. “I packed it separately from the rest of our things. Omega is prone to mishandling delicate items.”

“Aw, you care about it that much?” Sonic teased. “I mean, you’ve kept it all this time.”

“It… helped remind me of home. I didn’t let it leave me for the whole first week after we moved,” Shadow admitted embarrassedly. 

“I told Tails you’d like it!” Sonic smiled brightly. “He kept insisting I could have picked a better going away present.” 

“No, it was perfect.” Shadow reassured him.  Just like always. Everything you do seems so perfect. He had to stop himself from speaking the rest aloud.

Sonic gave the mug back to him and Shadow’s hand lingered for a moment before he finally took it. He placed it back on the bedside table.

He turned back to see that Sonic was staring at him. “What is it?” He asked.

Sonic startled and his ears flicked back in embarrassment. “Sorry, I just…” He looked away for a moment. “I’d almost forgotten how handsome you are, after all these years.”

Shadow’s heart lurched and he began desperately wondering if he’d heard him correctly. He froze up completely and Sonic must have taken this for discomfort.

“Sorry! Sorry,” Sonic began frantically. “I know you’ve only just got back and are still trying to adjust to things, I shouldn’t have just said something like that out of the blue,”

“I…”

“I just haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day you left, and- and then I showed up late to the party anyway which I’m sure made a great first impression- but it isn’t technically a first impression if we know each other, so it was a second impression, I guess-?”

“Sonic…” Shadow could feel himself beginning to blush again, noticing Sonic was also becoming increasingly flushed.

“-And I wish that I’d done more before you left, then maybe then you wouldn’t have gone- or we could have at least kept in contact or something, and maybe it would have been better to tell you how I really felt before all of this- oh, I feel like I’m just making everything worse, and- and-”

“Sonic,” Shadow interrupted him more sternly this time, grabbing his hand.

Sonic fell silent and immediately turned to their entwined hands, face still a bright red. Shadow could hear Sonic’s tail wagging against the bedsheets.

“It’s okay,” Shadow began quietly. “I…” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I… like you too.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, both hedgehogs stunned and not quite sure what to do.

“You… you do?” Sonic finally broke the silence.

“Yes, of course I do,” Shadow laughed quietly. “How could I not be so hopelessly in love with somebody like you?”

Shadow could hear the sound of Sonic’s tail managing to wag impossibly faster, laughing again. Sonic was snapped from his daze at the sound and moved to grab his tail.

“Ah, I really wish I could control this thing sometimes…” He muttered through gritted teeth.

“I think it’s endearing,” Shadow commented, watching as Sonic tried feebly to immobilise his tail.

“Sonic?” He started after another moment. Sonic immediately abandoned his task and looked up to Shadow almost expectantly.

“Yes?” He replied quietly.

“Can I kiss you?” 

There was no immediate response as Sonic stared back at Shadow with wide eyes and a startled expression.

“Sonic?” Shadow prompted him, worried that he was moving too quickly.

“Yes- yes, of course you can,” Sonic finally spluttered out somewhat breathlessly.

Shadow suppressed another chuckle, instead leaning forward and meeting Sonic halfway with a delicate kiss.

When they parted Sonic appeared even more dazed than he had before and Shadow felt himself swell with adoration. He brushed his thumb over Sonic’s hand which seemed to bring him back to reality.

“Come on,” Shadow said, standing up and leading Sonic by the hand. “Let’s get back to the party.”

[officialspec]

self indulgent dnd yuris

[fernlessbastard]

okk love your blog, so I rlly wanted to send an ask even if its nothing too especific ;-;

soo, since u like tntduo (like me :]) whats your favorite hc for their relationship? I love hearing about hc's, and since your art its so cute, u probs have some cool hc's

Thank youuuuu I appreciate it so much, and by all means flood me with asks! Asks are great, I love asks, be it random thoughts, art ideas, opinions, etc etc, asks are always welcome (unless they're from the 🥝 anon 🙄🙄🙄 /j/loving)

And a favourite headcanon? Hm, i don't know, hard to say. I have multiple headcanons, idk if I favour any in particular

There's one where after revival Wilbur's body is kinda fucked up in the nerves and blood vessels department, so he has some trouble with kinda controlling it, which particularly expresses itself in his hands being unsteady. They're so unsteady, that the first time he picks up a guitar again he can't play right. He blows up over it and has a breakdown, and vows to never play again. He still ends up trying a couple times, but each time he just immediately gets pissed off and upset, and tosses it away. It really breaks him. At some point he's at Quackity's place, and he sees a guitar. He looks at it for a while, but doesn't say anything, of which Quackity makes note. Next time they meet up Wilbur shits on Quackity for not having touched it recently, so Quackity takes it as a challenge. Once the music starts, Wil goes quiet. He's sitting to the side of Q, slightly behind him, and after a while for just a moment he leans against his upper back, and closes his eyes, simply l taking the moment in. This situation repeats, a couple times, and each time Wilbur lets himself relax a bit longer. He starts playing with Quackity's hair as he listens, and one time he l begins trying to braid it. His hands are shaking, he's struggling to divide the thick hair into even parts, he's having trouble keeping the braid even, but what's crucial is that he does it. Next time it repeats. And next time too. And the next, and eventually the braids start to look actually pretty decent. Time passes, they meet up more often, and eventually comes a day when Wilbur takes the guitar. No words are exchanged. No ridicule, but no praise either - no verbal acknowledgement. Instead Quackity just sits slightly behind him, and begins gently braiding his hair. The notes are wonky and don't always sound quite right, and the rhythm is messy, and strumming only goes well sometimes, but he's playing...

Quackity kisses Wilbur's head, right above the new braid. He leans in, partially hugging him, as the other's playing. It's been a bit over a year since he started playing again, and the difference is big. Neither knows if he'll ever fully regain the control and steadiness of his hands, but he manages to keep the rhythm, and the notes now ring out clear a big majority of the time. He plays quicker songs too, now; sometimes they both sing, and laugh when they mix something up. Quackity smiles, closing his eyes as Wilbur once again butchers a random song by changing up the words completely to make it as on the nose as humanly possible. He begins to wonder what they should eat tomorrow for their anniversary breakfast.

[onebarofsoap]

played pokemon platinum recently and swept the league with nothing but my overleveled team of two guys named steamed bun and egg tart 💪

[existentialcynic]

knight in black leather

Janine ditching you on a night out might just work in your favour.

Pairing(s): melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

Word count: ~1.4k

Warning(s): suggestive themes but no actual smut, mild harassment

You didn’t realise you were even tipsy until you stood up from the couch you were sharing with Janine - scratch that, Janine and Gregory. When did he get here? Why were you here? When the decidedly reserved Miss Teagues invited you out with her to the hookah bar with a woman you had already forgotten the name of, you expected to have one drink before your work friend called it quits and wanted to leave. Instead, she’s one encouraging nudge away from shoving her tongue down another colleague’s throat, and you couldn’t interrupt to ask her to drive you home.

Shouldering your way through the thick crowd, you walk into the - surprisingly - empty bathroom, grimacing at the way your shoes stick to the floor as you sway slightly. Pulling out your phone, your finger presses the screen to call Jacob.

“Hello,” he answers after a few rings, dragging the word out and causing you to raise a brow he can’t see.

“Jacob? Janine is… busy and can’t drive me home. I don’t want to waste half my paycheque on an Uber, can you come get me?”

He laughs a little too loud, making you pull the phone away from your ear. “No can do I’m afraid, I’m getting turnt with Barb and Mel.”

Laughter bubbles out of your chest - you can practically feel the eye rolls your other colleagues are giving the oblivious man on the phone. A faint voice floats through the phone, the unmistakable Philly accent making you blush in your inebriated state. “Who’s that? Your shoe guy boyfriend?” Jacob huffs into the phone, and you listen quietly as he explains “the deets” to Barbara and Melissa. A bit of shuffling meets your ear before the woman of the hour speaks directly into the phone.

“Hey, I’ll come get you, I’m not drunk like numb nuts here. I live closer anyways.” You can hear Barb start to say something, but Melissa cuts her off. “If you puke in my car you’ll wish you never went into teaching in the first place.”

“I’m not that drunk,” you groan, “Janine just ditched me and she’s my ride.”

“Whatever hot shot. I’ll be there soon.” She hangs up before you can respond. Deciding one last drink can’t hurt, you exit the bathroom and slide into an empty seat at the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention.

“Now what’s a sexy thing like you doing all alone,” questions a jarring male voice from behind you. Plastering the most convincing smile you can muster, you turn to see a man undressing you with his eyes and leaning in way too close for comfort.

“I’m just waiting for my ride,” you reply, turning back to sip on the drink the bartender brought to you as the man spoke up again. “I can be your ride baby, in more ways than one,” he smirks, gripping the buckle on the front of his pants. Downing the drink, you grimace before stepping off the chair and away from the guy that just won’t take a hint.

“I’m good, actually.” A well-timed text lights up the screen on your phone, letting you know your redheaded colleague is outside. Shouldering past him and into the crowd, you slowly make your way to the door.

The icy December wind hits your body as you leave the warm, tobacco-scented air from the bar. You can almost feel yourself sobering up in the cold. Spotting Melissa idling at the curb, you start towards the parked car before a hand grips at your upper arm.

“C’mon baby, let me show you a good time.” The man from the bar turns you towards him, the stench of liquor coming off him in waves. “Don’t be a tease.”

“Hey I’m not interested, get your hands off me,” you snap, yanking your arm back with no luck. The man is inches taller than you, and strong if his grip was any indicator. Your heart races when you see that he’s starting to get angry.

A soft, warm arm wraps around your waist, fingers digging into your hip. The contrast between it and the man in front of you makes you shiver. The voice that you heard over the phone earlier is eerily sharp, accent thicker now that the owner is irritated. “Is this guy bothering you, sweetheart?”

Turning your head, the redhead holds your gaze; her eyes are soft but have an edge to them that would have made you blush if there wasn’t a stranger gripping your arm. “No, I’m okay.”

A dark chuckle escapes the older woman’s lips. Moving to face the drunkard in front of the two of you, any kindness that she had shown you dissolves as she starts to speak. “My girlfriend is a lot nicer than me. Get your hands off her or it’ll be the last time you use that hand for a long time, I guarantee that.”

“Whatever bitch,” the man spits out, loosening his hold and moving back towards the bar. That soft hand around your waist moves up to your bicep, massaging it gently as its owner ducks her head to look at your face. “Hey, are you okay honey?” You give her a dazed nod, your brain only focusing on the woman touching your arm.

“Are you sure?” Her other hand moves to your face, palm cupping your reddening cheek. You nod again.

“I think that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you return, hand coming up to slap over your mouth after your thoughts slip out. Damn that last drink. The laugh from earlier meets your ears again, Melissa’s eyes darting down to your covered mouth. Her fingers slip around your wrist, moving your hand away from your face and using the grip to pull your body closer to hers.

You knew you were sobering up fast but the touch of the woman in front of you is making your head swim, your stomach flutter. A stuttering breath escapes your lips when Melissa’s hand grabs your hip possessively, no longer putting on a show for anyone. “Really? That was nothing. I can do so much better than that, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” She nods, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. Eyes glancing at the ruby lipstick, you watch a smirk bloom as she catches you staring. Your cheeks are no doubt the same shade as the swipe of colour you were looking at, and you slowly meet Melissa’s fiery gaze.

“Why don’t you show me then, Schemmenti?”

Instantly, the soft lips that had you hypnotised earlier are now pressed against your own. The hand wrapped around your wrist moves to your bicep, your shoulder, and up the nape of your neck. Sharp acrylics drag across your scalp before gathering a fistful of hair and giving an experimental tug that has you practically whimpering. It gives her the leverage to slip her tongue into your mouth, confidently brushing it against yours. She tastes like sugar cookies and wine as red as her lips. Fumbling, one hand grips the lapel of her jacket - leather, your favourite - while the other moves underneath it to dig your fingers into her lower back. It pulls an appreciative groan from the other woman, and she starts to back you towards her car.

Your back hits the side of Melissa’s car, forcing a chuckle out from your chest. Pulling away from the redhead, you press kisses down her jaw, stopping just below her ear. “You playing the protective girlfriend role is doing something to me, Mel,” you sigh, biting her pulse point softly enough that it won't leave a mark. It prompts her to tighten her hold on your hair, and you let out a deep moan at the slight sting.

“Is that right, honey?” You hum in response, pulling her free hand forward until she's cupping you through your pants. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, red as sin itself. Pupils blown, Melissa kisses you hungrily, not removing her hand but not daring to go further. Pulling back, you grab her chin to make her look at you.

“Take me somewhere private and I’ll show you just how much,” you murmur, watching Melissa stutter before turning to the car door she’s pressed you next to and opening it for you. Settling in the seat as Melissa rounds the car, you’re still catching your breath as she starts the engine. “I live closer,” Melissa states, just as breathless as you are as she pulls away from the curb. Chuckling as you remember that phrase from earlier - in a much different context - you squirm in your seat at the thought of what’s to come.

[fern-writes-whump]

question for my fellow writers/readers:

do you also have a default floorplan? like a flat / house layout you'll imagine until the description conflicts with it?

[captainfern]

fern rant below lol

yk one thing i have noticed both on tiktok, here and the rest of the internet is the “pornification” of media

by that i mean the standards people are being held to in regards of sexual attraction or just “beauty standards in general” and how there is this sudden increase of ideals and values built on the foundation of toxic pornography

i mean there are several examples, but the most common ideals you see typically relate to someone’s body and someone’s body hair and i have a bit to say on the matter, especially as someone who creates “pornographic” content

let’s talk body first

you are beautiful. it does not matter whether the internet perceives you as anything more or less than that. you are beautiful exactly the way you are

the pornification of modern media will tell you that you have to look a certain way. you will be told you can’t be plus-size, or you can’t be too skinny, or you can’t be tall, or you can’t lack curves, or you can’t have hyperpigmentation, etc. don’t listen to that bullshit

you are beautiful and i luv you

i don’t want to see negative body image portrayed in fanfic: x reader’s can be plus-size, they can be tall, they can have no curves. they are x reader for a reason !!! the reader should be described as little as possible !!!

and in saying that, yeah, your favourite fictional characters would fuck a bigger person. they’d fuck a taller person. they’d love you for you and be completely and utterly obsessed with you. “but actually— 🤓☝️” shut up please <3

now body hair

its natural !!! it grows !!!

if you don’t wanna shave, don’t shave. if you wanna shave, shave. baby it’s your choice. do what YOU want. don’t let anybody else influence you and your body

the pornification of modern media has really fucked this kind of thinking up because people (a lot of men unfortunately) think they can dictate the way people / women present themselves ??? gtfo what lmao

“body hair is nasty, body hair is unnatural, body hair is unhygienic”— honey please don’t. it’s not any of these things. body hair is completely ok (and so is not wanting it on you ofc— as long as it’s your decision, not the persuasion of anyone else)

i saw a tiktok of these guys being like “oh i’d never have sex with someone who didn’t shave” and “ew i’d never eat hairy puss” brother you literally suck (it’s ok to have preference, but don’t make it out to be vile or weird or something other people have to agree with)

it’s natural. it’s normal. it’s perfectly hygienic if you keep it that way. if you meet someone like the guys i mentioned above, they ain’t worth your time

and yeah, john price and simon riley and johnny mactavish and kyle garrick would fuck you and eat you out if you didn’t shave cause they’re MEN

love yourself because you’re beautiful and i’m telling you so right now !!!

i felt the need to say this as i write pornography. i write x readers. i try to keep everything regarding body as neutral as possible (and if i ever fuck up, please let me know !!)

i often write about “fat” or “flesh” in my writing but that’s because i don’t see a lot of fics with it. if you want something different, specify in a request and i will write your request more to your liking <3 i want everyone to feel accepted and welcome here because it’s important !!!

on that note, you won’t catch me writing about “bare pussy” or “hairless legs” or whatever. i try to keep it all up to your imagination !!! (you will find hairy men tho !!! the lads i write for will always be hairy but that’s cause i’m a whore)

anyway i luv you and you are so so so beautiful and i hope you have an amazing day / night wherever you may be

this post is not an attack or anything of the sort. i’m just speaking my mind :)

lots of luv <3

[taro-pdf]

HaSO: Not all humans are the same Humanity, neurodiversity, and connection in space

[Fern (human) walks through the break room of a spaceship. Two minutes later, she passes through again.] Egor [bromid]: what is the human doing? Vuna [bromid]: I do not know. We are just transporting her. Human Jeffery? Jeffery [human]: I don’t know either, Vuna; we call that pacing, but who knows why she’s doing it.  V: but you’re a human. J [shrugs]: I’m not a human expert. [Fern enters the room] V: Fern? F [not stopping]: Vuna? V: Where are you walking? F [at the door]: Just walking. E: I’m going to join her! [F and E exit. Two minutes later, they walk through again, giggling together] V: Well, whatever floats their ship, to use the human phrase. J: Boat. But yeah, happy to see them happy.