#I think they’re called soft emojis (?)

[jynjackets]

VELCINTA / VEL SARTHA / CINTA KAZ ICONS

for VelCinta Sept. Day 21: “stuck” ~

250x250 px icons of ship and individuals. Feel free to use. Credit not required but greatly appreciated. Also can take requests since I couldn’t fit all of them here <3

[s-4pphics]

click! finale (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black, parental trauma, self-worth issues, slight disordered eating, brief alcoholism and hypersexuality, heavy grief, pining but depressed

A/N: finally on break yaassss….. sequel? LOL 

The air around you is strangling. You haven’t left your room in two days. You’re not passing this semester. 

The room next to yours, however, is filled with life. Ellie’s back to blasting her music and banging on walls, but you have yet to cross paths. Not in class, not at home; You haven’t seen her. Pickle never hesitates to scratch at your door for hugs. And kisses. She’s brought you so much comfort, even in times where you feel like you’re undeserving. 

Christmas is around the corner, and you’re alone. Amaya never shied away from taking you home for her breaks, but she’s gone. She hasn’t called in a while; You hope she’s doing okay. 

So, you seek escape in a different way and do what you haven’t in a long time. 

Tears flood your vision, your thumb hovering over a number you haven’t touched in ages. Your hands won’t stop trembling. You’re going to regret this. Your heart's already breaking into pieces at the heart and cloud emojis of the contact. 

Soft paws knead your thighs and you kiss kit-kat’s tiny head as she nuzzles your chin. You’re trying to keep your sobs to a minimum, but they’re tearing your throat to shreds.

Your thumb comes down on the contact and the line rings. And rings… and rings until the dial tone sounds. 

“At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, you may hang up or press one for more options.”

You knew no one would answer. No one ever answers, but still, you listen for her voice. The steadiness of her breathing. You take a shaky breath, “Hi, mom.” Mindless sentences pour out of you like a waterfall. You just sit there and allow Pickle to playfully bite your finger. 

“I, uh… I’m not…” Another sob, “I’m not doing well.” 

You would never say that if she were here. You always masked your true feelings for her sake; She never needed any additional stress. 

Void images of your father reoccur in your memory, “I think there’s something wrong with me… I don’t think I’m a g-good person.” A barbed tongue affectionately licks at your finger, and you try to smile. 

“I… We found a kitty in the snow,” You whisper, “She's the cutest thing ever.” Pickle looks up like she knows what you’re saying, and you weep at her delicate eyes. 

“It was the weirdest thing…” You huff wetly, “It felt like you put her there to stop me from making a mistake.” More tears flood your shut eyes. 

“I just miss you…” Your palm digs into your eye, “and I wish you w-were here. I’m not…” Pickle climbs to rest in your lap; You always did that with your mom for comfort. Another loud sob. 

“I lov— “

You jolt at the loud dial tone, and the line ends. You drop your phone on your blanket and search around your room, the portrait of your mother standing tall on your desk. You need to make another one for her birthday. 

Your eyes travel over your space, and for the first time, you don’t feel comfort. Your mind is racing with thoughts that expose your truth; They’re vile and dirty and they make you feel like scum. A disease walking. 

The dark nights are restless and the days are silent, halls only filled with soft purrs and pattering paws. 

Your home no longer holds the joy that it once did when Amaya was here. Excitement used to burst through you whenever she prepped your movie nights after work, the living room filled with laughter and corny love lines that made your stomach secretly twist with warmth. 

You’re not happy anymore. Anxiety brews in you whenever you walk into the kitchen, the living room, go to feed and snuggle Pickle. It’s fucking miserable in here, and as difficult as it was for you to admit, it’s all your fault. 

It’s almost finals week, and you’re nowhere near prepared. You can’t focus on anything except the treacherous silence of your space. It’s almost like Ellie’s already gone. 

You should be anticipating her departure, antsy to have your space to yourself again, but your chest aches. This past month was anything but smooth, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. For some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to live your main character moment, even if it was just for a few hours.  

Ellie, as much as you hate to admit it, deserves better. Just like how you deserve to spend your life alone, trapped and secluded with your own thoughts. She should want better for herself; Nothing is worse than being in your presence; Maybe that’s why you have no one. 

You desperately want to do better for yourself, but you’re tired. Your mother would be so disappointed in you. You retire from wallowing and climb under the covers, Pickle clutched tightly to your chest. You hope she doesn’t mind the tears from your tee.  

The portfolio is finished. Ellie can’t stop staring at the booklet enclosed in leather on her desk. 

The online submission process was infuriating, mainly due to her laptop dying during the portfolio render, but it’s done. Her ticket into a life-changing position is no longer hers to judge; It can only go up from here. 

All she needs is that phone call from the recruiting manager and it’s over. She’ll be in the city in no time. She’s excited and jittery; Every buzz from her phone is met with clenched hands and a sweaty forehead. Her disappointment heals when she sees her father’s classic thumbs up emojis surrounded by black and red hearts; Even from miles away, he knows when she needs support. 

Ellie lays her forehead on the leather, sighing in relief for what seems like the billionth time. It’s a surreal feeling, relishing in accomplishments. She's never done it, mainly because her mother never wanted to acknowledge happenings she wasn’t the center of. Hearing congratulations is still a mindfuck years later. 

… Your photos looked stunning. You’re made for this, even if you don’t believe it. 

Ellie will never admit how much energy she put into editing those pictures, specifically the ones you’re in. She spent hours recoloring, scaling, sharpening those photos, and they turned out incredible. Probably some

of the best shots she’s ever taken, and you’re in the center. And your eyes… There’s so much light in those hazel specks. 

Another mindfuck. 

Whenever Ellie comes home, she checks the small space between the floor and door of your bedroom to see if you’re awake. If you’re alive. The relief she feels when she sees a lamp light or shadow eases the tension in her shoulders. 

She never knocks, though. Never. 

So why are you? 

Ellie’s back instantly straightens at the soft pats on her door, heart pounding in her ears. You never knock. 

She’s embarrassed at how fast she stands, chair nearly falling over as she flies to pull her door open. 

She’s met with you; She hopes you can’t hear the shatters from her chest at the sight of your disheveled appearance. Your hair is matted and the brunette river in your eyes are surrounded by redness

“Sorry, I—“ Your voice cracks like you haven’t spoken in ages, “She was lying there and I felt bad. She missed you, I think.” She’s never heard you sound so tedious. You’re always the loudest, goofiest person in the room. Ellie’s brows furrow before following your line of vision. Pickle’s sleep in front of her door, curled like a cinnamon roll. Ellie sighs as picks her up as fluidly

as she can, trying her best not to wake her. 

“You’re gonna have to take her when you leave.” 

Devastation sets in your tone as you stare at the little fur ball, “Why?” She asks. 

“My dad’s allergic.” You whisper.

Ellie peers down when Pickle stirs, “Is… is he visiting?” She asks, just as quietly. 

Your head shakes, “I’m going home.” 

Ellie does an impeccable job of hiding her shock. So many questions race in her mind: going home? Where’s home for you? Is it permanent? Are you moving out? When? Are you and your dad close? 

You’re turning away back into your room, but Ellie blurts out before you can shut the door. “I finished my portfolio! It’s… it’s done. I turned it in.” 

You turn, and your eyes are watery. Your smile is tiny, but genuine. “Congratulations,” you’re so quiet and your voice shakes. Ellie’s mind whirls, “They’re gonna love it.” You take one last look at Pickle, and your bottom lip wobbles. You shut and lock the door before Ellie can say thank you for helping me. 

Ellie’s eyes lock onto the floor, watching your lamp turn off, ears honing in on the shuffling of blankets. She swiftly scurries inside her space when she hears crying. 

Her chest concaves at the sobs echoing through the dark, silent halls. Through the thin wall as she sets the kitty on her favorite pillow to sleep on. She paces around her room and yanks at her pinky. How she wishes to be a fly on the wall; She wants to knock on your door so badly, but she doesn’t know what to say. How to comfort. She's always relied on her father for that. 

So, she just listens with regret and makes her final decision.

If you move from this counter, you’ll faceplant into hardwood. You don’t like the blaringly loud song coming from above, so you down another seltzer. It’s distracting enough. 

You feel yourself leaning forward, so you force yourself back up, practically flung over the counter. You’re never drinking again, you promise yourself. How many times has that one been broken? You don’t remember. You miss Ellie. 

You’re going to fall again, but this time, you’re supported. And not by the counter. You instantly relax at the familiar scent. 

Abby’s mumbling something about something, but it sounds like gibberish. You throw your arms around her neck, inhaling deeply; You miss Ellie terribly. 

We gotta get you outta here. You frown; You don’t want to leave! The party just started! 

Her strong arms wrap around your waist to maneuver you. You’re not sure where she's taking you, but you don’t fight. You simply allow her to snatch your heels off and carry you into the piercing-sharp cold. Just allow her to drag you to safety. You wish it was Ellie. 

The world around you moves in a blur; The pace is making you dizzy. You don’t want to vomit in Abby’s car. When did she get a car? 

“Abby…” 

“Yeah, hun? You good?” She sounds so far away. Your mumbles are incoherent. She's so confused, so she asks you to repeat it. 

You face her from the passenger seat with a sultry grin. You miss Ellie, “I missed you.” Your words are garbled and your hands are as loose as your tongue, shakily landing on her muscular thigh, massaging the skin. 

Abby tenses with a sigh, planting a gentle hand on your traveling one. Her grip tightens when you try to move. “Did you really?” 

That's your green light. Your smile grows as you clumsily unbuckle your seatbelt, “Stop… stop the car.” 

Abby’s foot plants on the break, and you jerk forward. Like the night you found Pickle. Like when Ellie… 

“What’s the matter?” 

I miss my roommate. “I’m horny.” 

Your friend scoffs and shakes her head. Either you’re too drunk or she’s disappointed… Not the reaction you were seeking. Your smile tries to fade, but you force the corners of your mouth back up. 

“No, you’re not.” She snaps, and it takes you a second to catch it. Abby’s upset again. What the fuck did you do this time? Your facade finally falters. Now you’re irritated. 

“How’re y… how’re you gonna tell me what the fuck I am?” You sound like a fucking idiot, but your rage ignites your slurs, “If you don’t want me, why’re you here!” 

“Because you fucking called and I’m your friend! I didn’t wanna leave you by yours— “

“You should’ve!” Your shriek is piercing; You’re shocked the windows didn’t shatter and slice you both. 

“That’s how you fucking feel? Really?” 

You try to swallow tears, but they flow. The words you want to say are on the tip of your tongue; Thank you for coming to get me. I’m sorry for being awful. Don’t leave me by myself. 

But none of them escaped. They sit and rot in your throat. You’ve never seen Abby so… 

And she doesn’t let up, “Now you wanna cry? Are you serious?” There’s fire in her eyes; It burns in a way you’re not used to, especially not her, “This victim shit is getting very old— “

“I don’t care!” 

“I don’t fucking care, either! If you wanna keep getting used like a piece of meat by random bitches, then do that! Leave me the fuck out of it!” Abby slams her hand down on the armrest, and the car doors unlock, “Matter of fact, get the fuck out!” 

“Fuck you!” 

“Fuck YOU! Get out! Get the fuck out!” 

Curses and heated exclamations leave the two of you until you wobbly exit the vehicle, slamming the door as hard as your brain would allow. The wind blows like tacks, stabbing through the skin of your bare arms and chest. Abby zooms off, and you scream. 

You dig in your pocket for your phone, ineptly dialing Ellie’s number. It’s fucking one in the morning

“… Hello?” She was asleep. Your heart eases at the steadiness of her tone. 

You’re shivering, “… E—Ellie?” 

“Hm?” 

“I’m… I’m really cold and I don’t,” sob, “I dunno where I am— “

“What do you mean?” She asks abruptly, alert. Your heart flutters. 

You whimper, “I’m lost, I don’t… I’m a bad person— “

“Send me your location. Where’re your keys?” 

“I— I don’t remember— “

“Are you drunk right now?” 

“Yes,” You mumble meekly. This is so fucking embarrassing. 

Ellie sighs heavily, “Just… Is there somewhere you can wait until I get there?” 

You search through tears, finding mostly dark retail stores and restaurants across the street… Except Jack in the Box! The munchies hotspot never fails you. 

“There’s a Jack in the Crack over there.” You point like she can see you. She snickers softly. 

“Go, then. I’ll be there soon, okay?” 

“Wait! Don’t… don’t hang up, please, I’m scared— “

“I wasn’t going to.” 

You closely listen to the shuffling on the other line as you wobbly trek across the street. You sharply inhale at every slip and stumble on your journey, almost sobbing through every confirmation to Ellie’s small are you okay? 

You finally make it inside and thank God that it’s warm. You take a seat and sigh at the familiar jingle of keys. 

“You in there?” 

“Mhm.” 

“I’m coming, send me where you are.” 

“K.” 

It takes you longer than it should’ve to get her the location thanks to the Casa in your system, but she’s on the way… You really want curly fries. Fuck. 

You hate how your thoughts wander, self-loathing at the forefront of your lobe. You take after your father more than you thought: a filthy, lying train wreck. You’ve ruined every glimmer of hope, of positive influence around you, and you’re forced to bathe in the treachery you’ve created all over again. 

“Hey.” 

You leap out of your seat at Ellie’s raspy tone, seeing your hoodie draped over her forearm and keys dangling in her hand. Your tummy growls when you wave. Ellie’s gaze softens. “Hungry?” She hands you the hoodie for you to throw on. You nod. 

“What do you wanna eat?” 

“… Fries,” you croak, “Curly, please.” 

Ellie nods and waddles to the service counter. You watch her backside under her puffer as she pays and collects a small baggie and water before nodding towards the car. You follow close behind her in silence, munching on your snack. 

The ride back home is silent, but for once, the air isn’t deadly. You’re eased back from your breakdown, and it’s definitely not due to the forest in your roommate’s vision. 

You enter your warm apartment and get greeted with soft purrs, Kit-Kat skipping over to rub against your leg. It’s almost enough to make you break down all over again; You can’t believe you have to say goodbye to her next week. 

You kick your sneakers off and squat down to her level, “I love you so much, baby girl. Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper and pet her head, all the way down to her tail. She meows like she loves you. Ellie shuts the door and watches you silently. You turn to face her. For the first time, she doesn't fidget at your inspection.

Her eyes are much glossier and she’s picking at the skin on her pinky. She wants to say something. 

“You okay?” You murmur, and Ellie nods. You don’t believe her. Her eyes are downcast. Why does she look so nervous? 

The silence is killing you, so you speak. 

“Ellie, I’m… I’m sorry for everything,” You stand and ramble. “I’m the worst roommate imaginable and I-I’m terrible and impulsive and I fucking suck, but I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” 

I also kinda like you. 

Not even your word vomit lets that slip. So, you apologize, sloppily and snot-filled. Tears drip down your face in waterfalls, “I’m— I don't wanna go... and I don’t want you to go…”

Ellie’s timid facade breaks, only slightly, eyes closing gently as she listens. “I know I don’t deserve t-to ask that and it’s not… I wasn’t apart of your plan— “

“You’re drunk.” 

You’re plummeting into the void all over again, succumbing to a familiar, oddly comforting darkness. 

“H-Huh?” 

Ellie’s as firm as a tree, unmoving. Strong. Still. You’re transported back to your first conversation and how intimidated she made you feel. “You’re drunk… and I leave in the morning. I got the job.” 

Drowning. That’s what this feels like. Strangely proud. Oddly suffocating. You’re underwater, but refuse to resurface. “I-In the morning?” 

Her head jerks. “I, uh. I got rent covered. Sorry for the late notice.” She shoves her hands in her pocket. You shake your head, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “It’s okay.” You whisper. “Where’re you gonna go?” 

“My dad’s. He’s a few hours out. The truck comes tomorrow.” 

Your head bobs in acknowledgement, “H-How was the stats final?” She pauses; Her eyes sadden, tilting like an unwatered rose. “You’ll do fine.” She whispers. 

“Promise to take care of my daughter?” You blurt between sniffles, already moving down the hall, ignoring the loud shattering in your heart when you peep all her boxes in the now vacant room beside yours. 

Ellie mumbles your name but you’re sick of ugly crying in front of people. “Good luck with everything.” You mutter with hot feet.

And with the last click of your bedroom lock, you shut out the vine who entangled your heart for the last time. You give into the feelings of loss, the emotions that come with failure, and release them into your hands. 

What could’ve been, your brain hollers while your heart wails. What could’ve been if you weren’t you. 

You don’t remember waking up, but you’re in pain. Physically, mentally; You're hurting. The intensity of it somehow gets worse at the sound of Ellie dragging boxes out of her — the room. 

You just cry. There’s nothing to do but cry. Your phone has been ringing all morning, but you don’t have strength to reach for it. You relish in the deserving pain of your hangover. Tequila hasn’t done shit for you. 

Hours pass, and your home is silent. Ellie’s gone. Pickle’s gone. Amaya’s gone. Abby’s gone. Your mother’s gone. You take their departures as signs. It’s probably time for you to go, too. 

Your shower is incredibly long. You wash and wash and re-wash, wanting the feelings of cleanliness to cascade down your skin, but it never comes. You tearfully accept your lecherous nature and every vile entity attached to it. You’re a vessel for heartbreak and villainy. Forever your worst enemy. You look in the mirror for the first time in days. Just for a second. You can’t stand to see yourself for longer than that, your naked form a reminder of every violation you’ve had to endure since you were fifteen. 

Ellie isn't thinking twice about you, and yet, she terrorizes your mind, trying to convince yourself that your time together wasn’t all bad. You’ll never forget the color she brought to you. Her seed is forever planted and growing in your heart, her roots forcing their way into your system, intertwining with your rough, cracked bones, enclosing around your lungs with each breath. 

Too bad you impacted her in the worst way. You couldn’t even manage to give her a sober apology before she left. It’s hard to accept the fact that you’ll never see her again, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. 

Once again, you’re too late. 

The short lap around your living room crushes your spirit. Somehow, all of your memories are shrouded in emptiness. All the proof of Ellie’s residency is gone… Except the indent of her body on the couch. She always loved sleeping there.

One last heavy exhale. That’s all you can manage before you grab your coat and beanie and exit, locking the door behind you. You keep your head down on the way to the parking garage, hopping into the driver’s seat. The ride to the academic advisory office is silent and swift; It matches the finality of your meeting. 

Tears glaze your eyes when you ask your counselor, “What’s… What’s the first step of withdrawing? Like, from school.” 

-

-

-

CHRISTMAS EVE 

Your fork picks at the pasta noodles on your barely touched plate. The wine is delicious. 

“Honey, are you…” Your dad says softly before sighing, “How’s the meal?” You blink up at him, focusing on the crinkles in his eyes. He seems youthful somehow. Healing looks good on him. 

You gulp down more maroon, “… It’s great. Thank you.” You mutter. You’re not used to talking to him; You’re glad the feelings are mutual. He only nods, head downcast onto his plate. At least he’s eaten. 

He sets his fork down on his plate and wipes his mouth with a napkin, “I hope you like your gift.” He says before standing to place the dish in the sink.

A dark smile spreads behind your glass. 

“Never thought you’d buy me anything.” You snicker sarcastically. “Don’t start.” His voice slices through the kitchen. You hold back your flinch. You’re not ten anymore. 

You shrug, shoulders heavy, “Just saying.” A glass shatters in the sink, and he curses and storms off, the bedroom door nearly swinging off the hinges with a slam. Your smile grows at the booming echo. Like father, like daughter you suppose. 

-

-

-

DECEMBER TWENTY-SEVENTH 

“Are you ready, kiddo?” 

Ellie’s heart is pounding through her chest as she stares out the window. She can’t believe her father hasn’t commented on the bursting organ. “No.” She whispers, adjusting the camera strapped around her neck. She's fighting not to bite her nails; Her dad hates that. 

He chuckles softly, “Yes, you are.” 

No, she’s not. 

The photography studio is fucking huge and surrounded by tall windows that display suited individuals laughing, conversing, perfecting their lenses. She can see the bright specks of neon color on the white floors, white walls, white couches. It’s so much brighter than she ever imagined.

The colors are reminiscent of you. Vivid. Captivating. Beaming like your smile. There are flashes coming from all directions inside the studio and it’s making her shake in the passenger seat. A strong hand plants on her blazer, giving an encouraging squeeze. “Look at me.” 

Ellie’s head turns, eyes locking with her dad’s. 

“I love you. You got this.” He says with confidence. Ellie nods in agreement, but he doesn’t accept it. “Say it.” 

“I got this.” Not as confident. A lot quieter, but getting there. 

“Eh?” Her dad leans in closer, ear pointed at her. She giggles and repeats herself. A little louder. He decides that it’s good enough, pulling her close over the center console. Ellie inhales as deeply as she can, right in the crook of his neck. He plants one last kiss on her cheek before releasing her. She grabs her bag from the floor and pushes the door open, looking over her shoulder one last time. “I love you.” She whispers. He bops her nose with the most delicate grin. Pride is radiating off him, and it warms her from the cold outside. 

Ellie departs with one last wave, shutting the door and skipping onto the sidewalk, walking right up to the front door of the studio. A final peek at her dad; He sends her two thumbs up. She smiles. 

Breathe in, one… two… three… 

When the door pushes open, she's greeted with wide grins and warm hugs. It feels like home already.

Finally... Finally.

BIG ASS TAGLIST LOOOOOL LOVE YALL: @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane@muthafuckingstargirl @mina-281 @yuckyfucky @aimformyheartt @elstoy @skylerwhitwyo @sawaagyapong @nil-eena @dewylittlestars @sakiigami @feelsoseencantdream @ellieslittlegf@fictionalgap @liabadoobee @whooknooows @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @qtgaslighter @p4ison1vy @eviestevie-14 @weaselot @elliewbbg @elsmissingfingers @lmaoo-spiderman @lyssaspengler @elliewilliamsmunch @gummydummykj @kiwikeysblog @juniorsfav @louleele @alittlextrahoney @tohoko@333-starhotline @girlkissersco @saplingkoi @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @diddiqueen @alexisvs-world @mostlyhornyandsad @lolaaa699999 @elsblunt @niyahlovesu @randomhoex @sunnmoon @elliesaesp @callmewhenyoukan @rubycruzsbitch @deathby1000sluts @skylerwhitwyo

[tuerescringe]

Shaw Pack Headcanons:

(inspired by my friends! yet again!)

- Whenever Asher dies in a game due to lack of trying, he describes it as “playing with my meat out.” It’s terrible and instantly kills everyone in vicinity.

- Asher calls everyone but David a variation of “little bro.” David is instead given the wonderful title of “Big Dog.” He hates it.

- Angel plays Fortnite with Asher. Which sucks because they play on switch and it’s the worst possible way to play it. They refuse to touch the console simply because they are lazy.

- Baabe is a Glee enjoyer.

- Sweetheart has been begging everyone to play Lethal Company together because they find it absolutely hilarious.

- Milo is surprisingly not as adverse to the idea. He thinks the tiktoks that SH sends him of it are pretty funny. Actually playing it is horrifying though. He stays in the ship.

- David kinda adores Lethal Company.

- David tries to backseat whenever Angel plays a game that he likes.

- Whenever Darlin is gamer raging/jokingly insulting Asher, he responds with something like “You’re my friend and I care about you so much :) Did you know :)” It shuts Darlin up.

- Sam and David always take the lead when playing multiplayer horror games.

- Angel fucks with Roblox heavy. David absolutely does not get it.

- Asher does though.

- Milo had a soft spot for terrible medical dramas. His favorite is Grey’s Anatomy.

- Sweetheart watches it too but they get so stressed over the workplace atmosphere.

- David is a 60’s-70’s era anime enjoyer.

- Darlin’s top used emoji is the middle finger.

- Milo and Darlin are the same level of pussy when it comes to horror.

- Angel describes things as “yucky disgusting.”

- Sam and Baabe like playing chess together.

- Darlin constantly debates others on whether it not they could beat their faves in a fight.

- They are adamant on the idea that they could solo Gojo.

- Asher and Angel greet each other by going “Hey buddy!” in a strange little nerd voice.

- They all have little beaded bracelets. Angel got them for everyone during a trip to their hometown.

- Whenever David is explicitly affectionate towards someone besides Angel, they feel strangely frightened.

- Asher sends everyone slop content tiktoks and thinks they’re the funniest shit ever.

- His favorite currently is a clip of a Flash villain saying “and now I am the ruler of gorilla city and all of the gorillas will follow me.”

- Whenever someone says something mildly upsetting in the gc, Sam replies with “Jesus wept.”

- Sam’s top used emoji is “😕”

- Whenever someone says something stupid, or unfunny, Milo responds with “That sucks, by the way.” It immediately makes the recipient rethink their life choices.

[snnnailmail]

THE NEW CHAPTER IS SO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVGDFCHBVKDSVBKHFBJLSVBJLSSJLVBSLJBVLS🦅🦅🦅🦅💥💥💥💥 GOOD FKN SOUP IM DEVOURING IT RN it might be my fav chapter thus far........It has elements of The horrors tm and scenes that make me kick my feet in delight GODDDDDD🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 AAAAnd as usual I have some new silly doodles that I've got (Sadly I cant draw fast enough to finish my fan art for this chapter BUTIMWORKINGONSMT). I do have the RGB reader designs that I mainly use so that other fans could (maybe....just maybe...) mold their reader/player into whatever they want but I DO have a design that caters to my fav design tropes...

ALSOALSO- I've got a folder righttt 👉here where I'll compile some more sketches (and the animation with the right sync good gracious me-) so that I dont BOMBARD you with 50plus images.

the last "AGAIN"- THE CHAPTER WAS SO SCRUMPTIOSSSSSSS- KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you I'm so glad you love it!! 🦅💥 (Nonsense emojis are becoming a habit I have to stoppp...)

It's so funny you said that cuz I have a Doc called "kicking my feet blushing giggleinf" that I use to jot down the "fluffy" moments when the inspiration worms hit x0

And take your time with the art gurl!! What you've already done is amazing!! The most important thing is that it's fun and engaging for you,, no pressure 🫶

Those RGB designs are a banger btw they have so much personality!! I forgot to mention I loved the color scheme of your animation. I'm a sucker for some super saturated RGB...

OKAY now I'm gonna gush abt your art >:o] I love your insert she's too spunky!! She looks so done w him LOL. Also your style is delightful and fun!! I love your habit of drawing ppl with tired eyes and no mouth. It speaks to me.

The “You look lonely” piece is gorgeous btw :) He’s so shinyyy,, Insert looks tireddd. I know it’s the meme format or whatevah but I would be too.

I hope you don’t mind me sharing screenshots? Just let me know :o) I’m abt to holler abt some sketches.

THESE!! These made me so soft oml. I know in my heart he feels like a Squishmallow or whatever those fat chibi stuffed animals are.

DRIP KINITO 🔥🔥🔥 I giggled. Also baseball Kinito is canon now. To me. I just KNOW he picks up random human sports and tries his darndest to play them with only two people. (Reader cheering him on and also looking thoroughly depressed is so real LMAO)

I think that's all I have in my heart for now... TY for this plethora of art you went above and beyond <3

BTW I’m gonna provide a pic of the players here for easy viewing cuz they’re cool as freak 💯🐊

EDIT: I am so glad!! You love my fic!! I heart U!!

[jagibee]

Call Me Luna

(Stray Kids x Reader)

Chapter 8

5,994 Words

A/N: A bit of a longer chapter as an apology for taking so long but also bc it was originally supposed to be two chapters and I just couldn’t find a good split point😭, and I did change the story title bc I got bored with Stray Pack but this is the same story and plot, and I’m sorry but my taglist is at its limit (which I didn’t even know existed?) so if I didn’t tag you on this post, it will be on the reblog!

Also, Happy Birthday to the love of my life who isn’t in this chapter nearly enough, but will be in the next chapter. Bang Chan, you have brought me a light and inspiration that I haven’t felt in a very long time and even if you have no idea who I am, you will always be the one for me🖤

Also

Nobody:

Me with the foreshadowing in this chap:

Let’s get started!

TW: references to sex, mentions of spanking (not necessarily sexual but could be interpreted that way)

…

You all settled down so that they could get through recording. Felix was sandwiched between you and Hyunjin, just as a small precaution in order to prevent any more growling. On your other side was Jisung and Seungmin sat on Hyunjin’s other side, providing extra padding against alphas. Chan and Changbin were both at the sound table and Minho was currently being recorded, so you didn’t have to worry much about them getting too close anyway, at least, not at this exact moment. Jeongin himself was settled at Felix’s feet like a trusty guard dog.

You, Chan, and Felix had all taken off your scent blockers as well, which helped to calm Innie down.

Minho was the last one recording, so everyone was a bit subdued. Changbin had paced around a bit while being sure to keep enough space between him and Jeongin. When the youngest alpha had recorded, everyone in the room held their collective breath, but he seemed to be doing fine.

Next to you, Jisung had leaned down so he was laying down on the couch with his feet splayed out in front of him, body posture indicating that he was zoning out, but one look at his eyes told you that he was paying rapt attention to what was happening in the recording box and at the table.

On your other side, Felix leaned his head against you and pulled out his phone instead of watching the older boys.

He pulled up Twitter and started scrolling through. You wanted to give him some privacy, but curiosity got the best of you. It’s not like he’s actively turning his phone away, you told yourself.

Once the word ‘caretaker’ caught your eye, you gave up the pretense and shifted even closer. The movement caused Felix to notice and he tilted his phone so you could see it more easily. “They’re sort of all over the place with the caretaker news.” He told you, deep voice soft as he tried to not interrupt the others. “Some people are really supportive of it but of course there are some people who think that either caretakers are sasaengs who manipulated the system so that you could be close to us, or that you’re going to steal our attention away from our fans.”

“Both of those statements are true, also, did I forget to mention I’m a spy from Dispatch meant to expose your secrets?”

Felix giggled and you let your eyes scan over the comments.

Maybe if y’all stanned TXT this wouldn’t have happened🤷‍♀️

tell this random weirdo to stay away from my lixie!!!!!!!

YALL IVE CONNECTED THE DOTS THE CARETAKER IS THE ONE IN FELIX’S BUBBLE POST

Reading over the last one, you bumped your shoulder lightly against Felix. “What exactly did your bubble post say?”

He frowned. “It just said ‘lunch with a new friend’ with a yellow heart emoji. It’s kind of impressive that they did actually connect the dots.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Well, at least people probably won’t recognize me out on the street just from my hand.”

Felix smiled and went back to scrolling, giggling at a semi-professional debate about what Lee Know would give up for the rest of his life between pudding or butt hunting.

Said pudding lover and butt hunter then finished recording, striding out of the recording box as Chan spun his chair to face the rest of the room. Changbin rolled his own chair across the floor until it stopped in front of Minho, who grabbed it and spun it so he could sit in Changbin’s lap. Changbin squeaked in surprise but didn’t make any signs of protest when Minho brought the younger’s arms to wrap around his waist.

“Alright,” Chan began, “I think it’s pretty much a free day from here on. I know Jisung has a vocal lesson and Hyune wants to talk to Y/N, but other than that, I’ll be in the studio and Minho is going to be going over choreography so if anyone wants to join either of us, feel free.”

“But not too free, I need a break from you degenerates sometimes.” Minho retorted from where his head lay against Changbin’s shoulder.

You missed what Chan said in response as you leaned across the back of the couch behind Felix to consult Hyunjin. “You wanted to talk to me?”

His wide eyes met yours then quickly moved to Felix’s hair as Hyunjin started twirling it nervously between his fingers. “Yeah. Chan-hyung said we should talk about my h-heat. Especially since it comes so quick after Felix’s that we might not have enough time between our heats to properly talk.”

You could hear the other members join Chan and Minho’s discussion, but your focus remained on Hyunjin. “That’s a good idea,” you murmured, “But you don’t want Chan or another member to sit in with us?”

He shook his head, glancing back at you and biting his lip. You didn’t want to push him when he was so clearly nervous so you nodded and turned back to the others.

Right next to you, Jisung was declaring that “this group is not a democracy, hyung”.

“Sungie, you are the one person in this room that has a strict schedule today.”

“Don’t you start with me, Kim Seungmin-���

“Okay, okay!” Chan raised his hands. “I think that’s enough. So, Han will go to his lesson, Jinnie and Y/N will talk, Seungmin and Felix will come to the studio with me, and Bin and Iyen will go with Lino to the dance studio. Wait.” He paused and turned to you. “Is it okay to have Innie with the two members he’ll be aggressive towards?”

You considered it for a moment. “I think it should be fine. It might actually be better, hypothetically, since Innie won’t have to deal with either of them getting too close to Felix, so I think he’ll actually be less aggressive.”

“If my aegi-alpha gets too aggressive, I’ll just give him a good spanking.”

Chan turned to Minho and stared at him, narrowing his eyes while his knuckles turned white from his grip on his chair arms.

Instead of retracting his statement or apologizing for it, Minho simply basked in the attention, leaning back against Changbin and crossing his arms with a smirk on his face.

You glanced at Jeongin to see his reaction, but he was a bit preoccupied with Felix’s fingers running through his hair. Innie’s eyes were shut as he leaned his head back in between Felix’s knees.

You felt like you were intruding on a special moment, so you looked up and your gaze met Chan’s. He had a soft smile as he glanced from you to the two boys.

He blinked as if coming out of a trance and cleared his throat. “So, everyone know where they’re going?”

“Wait, hyung!” Jisung’s hand shot up in the air like he was a student eager to be called on. “I know you told us that we can be comfortable around Y/N-noona, but exactly how comfortable is that? Like, is it the same level as we are with our managers, or our makeup noonas or what?”

Chan smiled at him and swiveled his chair to face him more directly. “Since Y/N’s job actually involves a little more… familiarity with our group, especially when it comes to our emotional and physical health, I figured that we could be a little more open with her. She knows about our relationship and everything. The company did ridiculously thorough background checks and she’s signed several NDAs, so we can be as honest with her as we want.”

Han scooted forwards until he was barely on the couch and gestured with his hand for Chan to come closer. When Chan rolled his chair over, Jisung leaned to whisper in his ear. Whatever he said caused Chan to giggle. “Yes, we can kiss in front of her.”

“Oh.” Jisung blinked twice. “Well, in that case…” He grabbed Chan’s collar, pulled him close, and planted an obnoxious, cartoon-level, lip-smacking kiss right on the alpha’s lips.

Chan sputtered and his ears burned as he pulled away. “I meant- why did- you didn’t have to kiss me now!”

“Nope.” Jisung wiped his mouth with the back of his hand theatrically. “But I enjoyed it.”

…

Once everyone had reapplied their scent blockers and straightened themselves up, you followed Hyunjin out of the recording room.

Instead of going to the small meeting room like you did with Chan and Felix, Hyunjin led you in the opposite direction you had come from.

He fidgeted with his hands as he walked you rode down the elevator. First, they fiddled with his jacket buttons, then his rings, then tapped against his thighs.

It was obvious he was nervous, but you didn’t want to make him even more so by pointing it out.

The two of you made your way into a room and you realized that it was the same small dance studio you had met Hyunjin in.

He stopped in the middle of the room and frowned at the wooden crates you had all sat on last time. “I guess we could move them so we sit across from each other, that seems the most professional,” he murmured while rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb.

Your mind blanked for a second before you refocused. “Well, this doesn’t have to be super professional. No one is grading you,” you joked. “Here, we can even chill on the floor if you want.” You brought some cushions from a stack in the corner of the room and brought them to the middle of the crates.

Hyunjin smiled at you and adjusted one of the cushions before sitting down on it.

You placed your own cushion on the ground across from him and pulled one of the crates over so you could use it as a back rest.

You sank down and Hyunjin smiled at you politely. “Where should we start, noona?”

You pulled your bag over and pulled out the file on him and his bandmates. Handing it over, you told him, “What Felix and I started with was going over the information the company gave me so that you know what I know and you can tell me if there’s anything wrong or anything big that the company doesn’t know or didn’t share with me. I don’t want to be overly nosy or creepy or anything, but as a caretaker, it’s important that I know things that relate to both your physical and mental health. Also, client confidentiality applies in my job, so I couldn’t tell your company anything even if I wanted to, unless it involves you hurting yourself or others.”

Hyunjin blinked at you wide-eyed, the file bending slightly in his tight grip. Then, his eyes narrowed and his lips pouted slightly.

You felt your own fists clenching around the straps of your bag at the sight, but you collected yourself when he started to speak.

“I thought you were hired by the company. Doesn’t that make them your client?”

Your smile widened at him. “What a smart question!” At this, you could see the corners of his mouth flicker up. “The company is my employer, but they hired me to be a caretaker for you, not for the company. If I had to be a caretaker for everyone in this entire company, I would scream.” You raised your eyebrows playfully. “Could you imagine if I went up to JYP and asked him to tell me about his sex life?” You shuddered theatrically.

Hyunjin let out a startled exhale which quickly morphed into full-on cackling. He threw his head back and clapped, leaning backwards and almost falling over which only caused him to laugh harder. You giggled along with him, relieved that the slight tension was dissolving.

Once you two managed to mostly calm down, he looked at you with his hand hovering in front of his mouth. “Oh my god. “‘“Oh my god”’”. Eugh!” He scrunched up his face and stuck his tongue out in disgust, which just set off another round of laughter for both of you.

You took some deep breaths and noticed Hyunjin doing the same. You both smiled at each other and he ducked his head as he went to pick up the file he had dropped when he started clapping.

He flipped through it and got to the page with his information. As his eyes scanned the page, his smile slowly faded.

“Not particularly possessive of my nests? The only reason I’m not possessive is because they’re my pack! My m- my band! They’re always welcome in my nests! I may not be as protective as Felix but it’s not like I would let just anyone in!”

Noticing his distress, but most notably, the lack of a distressed scent, you realized that you both still had your scent blockers on. You took yours off and allowed your calming scent to sweep the room. It wouldn’t be as potent to Hyunjin while he had his own scent blockers on, but you hoped he could sense it nonetheless.

You didn’t want to touch him without his consent, so you gently pushed the file down, away from where it covered his face, gaining his attention and making it easier for him to see you.

You smiled at him. “Hey, Hyunjin. You want to take a deep breath for me?”

He blinked at you twice before nodding and inhaling. He held it for a second before his cheeks puffed out as he exhaled.

“Good job! Now, I know that you’re probably upset since the company is making these assumptions about you based on limited information. I would be, too. But, since you aren’t exactly inviting your managers into your nests, does it really matter what they think about you?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he considered it. After a minute, he shook his head.

“No, it doesn’t matter. And the ones whose opinions you do care about know that you keep the nest open to them because you trust them and love them. I promise you, they don’t think any lesser of you because of the way you keep your nests.”

Hyunjin’s tense eyes softened around the edges. “I guess… that makes sense.”

Your voice took on a more teasing tone. “Do you not believe me? I could call Chan right now, and I’m certain that he would march on down from his studio just to tell you how wonderful your nests are. And I’m certain that your other packmates would be right behind him.”

Hyunjin smiled shyly as he traced a shape on the ground that vaguely resembled a heart. “Yeah, they would.”

You tapped on the file still in his other hand. “Now that that’s settled, is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Hyunjin put the file down on the floor and rested his hands on top of it, like he was trying to press it into the ground. He turned his head to look at the wall of mirrors next to you and you could see him swallow. His eyes flickered back to meet yours and you could see the pure vulnerability in them. “Since you’ve been so upfront and honest with all of us, I figure I should return the favor. I… In Korea, male omegas- or, just, omegas in general, I guess, are sort of taught to hide their heats? Or, not hide them exactly, but it’s not something you really talk about? Not even with other omegas. We’re pretty much taught that heats are signs of weakness or that they’re gross to talk about, so you sort of pretend that they don’t exist, even when we would get a week off of school or work.”

He paused to look down at his hands and you waited while he took a second.

“When Felix first came over, obviously there were a lot of cultural differences between Australia and Korea. He would casually mention how he was nervous about spending his heats here. Channie-hyung and Minho-hyung helped him the most, not just because they’re the oldest, but because Chan could sympathize with the change in culture and Minho… had a lot of omegan friends back in Gimpo when he was growing up. Even when Felix got used to spending his heats here, he still never really stopped talking about them. Of course he didn’t say anything when we went out in public or anything like that, but he never tried to hide it around us.” Hyunjin’s mouth curled up at the corners. “There was this one time when we were in the dressing room and he was complaining about his pre-heat cramps loud enough for all of the staff to hear. Changbinnie-hyung’s face was so red,” he snickered.

Suddenly, his face sobered up. “I really wish I had been there for him more. As the other omega in our pack, it should have been me, but at that moment, I just felt… all I felt was shame. Shame for him, for letting other people know that he had heats, shame for me, for being the other omega and being afraid that people would think that I would talk about my heat in the same way, shame for the poor staff members who had to listen to that,” Hyunjin took a deep breath. “But then, one of the coordi-noonas came up and recommended a good painkiller brand, and one of our managers told Felix that they could buy some ice cream on the way home, and I… I was so amazed. Talking about anything related to heats was supposed to be this horrible, embarrassing thing, but instead, Felix just got sympathy and support.”

Hyunjin looked back up at you and stared deep into your eyes. “I know that I don’t like to talk about my heats, even after seeing that and being with Felix all this time, but I know that you’re here to help me and my pack, so I’m going to do my best to not be ashamed anymore.”

You took Hyunjin’s hands in yours. “Thank you so much for telling me. I really-”

You were suddenly interrupted by his stomach doing its best impression of a whale song. His eyes widened before he hid his face in his hands. “Talk about embarrassing and shameful. I guess we forgot to eat lunch.”

You cackled and stroked his shoulder in what you hoped was a soothing way. “Well,” you giggled, “should we get some now? I’m pretty hungry, too, now that you mention it.”

Hyunjin’s hands slid from his face as he looked back up at you. “Hmm. I’m kind of craving something sweet.” He turned until he was lying on the floor with his face turned towards the ceiling.

As you scooted over to lay down beside him, he sat up and stared at you with his eyes lit up. “I have a genius idea! Have you tried any good Korean snacks since you moved here, noona?”

You thought back to everything that happened since you got off the plane. “Uh… not really? There were some chips or something in the hotel room but I didn’t want to spend the company money on ridiculous stuff like that.”

Hyunjin waved his hand dismissively. “Even if you did eat them, it wouldn’t really count. Expensive places always overcharge for mediocre things.” He set his hand back on the floor and turned back to you. “Do you know what this means?”

“That I need to order more of my own snacks from home before I run out?”

“No!” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, but you could see a hint of mirth in them. “Well, yes, noona, you should definitely do that. And order some for us to try. But we should raid the vending machine and have a taste testing! I even stole Binnie-hyung’s credit card this morning, so we can use that!”

You giggled at his enthusiasm for both having a taste testing and using his member’s money to pay for it. “I’m up for it if you are, but if Changbin finds out, I’m pinning everything on you. He’ll probably go easy on you, anyway.”

Hyunjin shrugged, his expression somewhere between fond and smug. “Yeah, he’ll definitely go easy on me. Especially when I tell him our pretty noona coerced me into it. He’ll understand. How am I supposed to say no to that? Anyway, we could also get some snacks to drop off at the dance studio after we’re done with our taste test, I’m sure that Changbin-hyung and Innie would be glad for a snack break.”

“I- okay.” You stuttered, trying not to fixate on the phrase “our pretty noona”. “Let’s do a taste testing. Lead the way to the vending machines.”

After reapplying your scent blocker, you both made your way down two flights of stairs and down a long hallway before you came to the vending machine. Hyunjin explained that there was one closer to the room you were in, but that this one had better snacks.

You stopped in front of the vending machine, a little surprised at how high tech it looked. You were more used to ones with sticky buttons that refused to take your dollars more often than not and that you would occasionally have to shake to free your snack. This one had a whole mini snack elevator.

“Let’s see, Innie likes these cheesy crackers, Changbin-hyung will cry if he finds out we used his credit card and didn’t get him anything, so let’s get him the barbecue chips, and this is Lino-hyung’s favorite pudding…”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you watched Hyunjin mutter to himself about his bandmates’ snack preferences. “You’re so considerate of your packmates,” you told him.

He blinked at you in surprise, like he had forgotten you were standing there with him. “Ah, well, it’s really more of a survival tactic. I have had one too many pudding lectures from hyung, so if I show up with the wrong one, who knows what he’ll do to me?”

Back in the studio, you spread your bounty around the two of you, like you were preparing for hibernation. The three snacks for the boys in the other dance studio were carefully set off to the side, so that neither of you would mistakenly eat them.

“So,” you started, “I know the nest thing sort of threw you off, but is there anything else you think I should know before your heat? It can be anything, things you like to avoid, your favorite things to nest with, things you like to eat,” you asked, shaking the bag of chips you were currently eating from. They were a bit different than what you were used to, but still pretty good.

Hyunjin hummed around a ring-shaped gummy. “Well, I like to do laundry before my heats and then get my members to scent my stuff. I just feel a bit icky when I’m not sure when the last time I washed something was. Felix likes to bake during his preheat, which is sort of perfect because I eat more than usual during my preheat, so I can just eat whatever he made and put in the fridge. But I don’t like eating during my actual heat. As for the stuff in my nest… I have this scarf that Seungminnie bought for me once when we visited Paris. And Lino-hyung gave me a scrunchie that he drew a bunch of Jureumis on that I like to wear on my wrist. Also, Jisungie got me a dumpling plushie that also has a hot water bag inside. I have some other things from the members, too, but those are the first things that come to mind. Most of the other stuff is pillows and blankets. Felix likes fluffier blankets in his nest, but I like the smoother, silkier ones. And I love having my members in my nests with me. Also, I have at least three fans going on at the same time because I hate how hot I get. I do react a bit… dramatically when my members accidentally move something in my nest, which sort of confuses me a bit because that really only happens during my heats.”

You quickly brought out your notebook and pen and scribbled down all the information Hyunjin had given you. As you wrote semi-legibly, you did your best to talk to him at the same time.

“Well, that’s definitely a heat-brain thing. Do you only feel anger or annoyance at your pack when they move your nest around or is it something else, too?”

Hyunjin stopped chewing and set down the bag of candy. “I guess… it does hurt a bit. At first. And then I growl or nip them or something like that.” He shrugged dismissively.

“And that hurt, could it be that your anger is sort of a way to get around it or cover it up?”

He looked up to meet your gaze and squeezed the plastic package so it crinkled. “That… it could definitely be that, I suppose. I think… my brain is sort of telling me that my packmates are changing my nest because they don’t like the way I arranged it.”

You nodded and set down your notebook. “Well, I know that no matter what I say, during your heat, your omega is still likely going to react like that because you don’t have the same level of brain processing power as you do when you aren’t in heat, but maybe, hopefully, you’ll feel less guilty about it afterwards. Hyunjin, you know that your members love your nests. They don’t want to move it or change it, and from what they’ve told me, they always try to move carefully so that they don’t offend you. They also understand that you’re protective of your nests and that you react, as you put it, dramatically. They know that that can be a risk to stepping into your nest, but I am sure that it’s worth it to them. Even if they get nipped or growled at, they made the choice to enter your nest and they obviously think that it was worth it if they come back again and again.”

Hyunjin watched you with wide eyes before his face broke out into a soft smile. “Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Plus, Lino-hyung bites the others enough that they should be able to deal with me if I bite them once or twice during my heat, even if I bite them a bit harder than he does.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes and leaned backwards until he was lying down. “I can’t believe I’m in a relationship with those losers.”

You smiled at him, glad that he could go from serious topics to more light-hearted ones. You grabbed another candy bag and a question formed in your brain.

“What exactly does the company know about your relationship?” You asked, tearing open the packet, this one with cartoon purple lizards advertising how “de-liz-cious” the gummies were.

Hyunjin hummed, popping a chocolate-covered cracker into his mouth. Once he chewed and swallowed it, he passed the bag to you.

“The company knows that we help each other through our heats and ruts, that’s why they had you sign a bunch of NDAs,” he told you, “but they don’t exactly know about the actual relationship between us. They know Hannie and Lino-hyung go out together, but they don’t know they’re actually going out together. They know Binnie-hyung flirts with me, but they don’t know that I flirt back when the cameras are off. They know that Chan-hyung and Felix sleep together a lot but they don’t know that they sleep together a lot.” He paused. “And I mean a lot. Honestly, most of the time, sleeping seems to be the last thing on their minds. Horny losers.” He shook his head fondly before refocusing. “The company tells us to play things up for the camera a bit for fan service, but what they don’t know is that we’re actually toning it down.” He finished with a smirk.

You grinned. “Wow. So they don’t know you’re in a relationship at all?”

“Nope. Just our families and some of our friends know. And now you, noona.” Hyunjin rolled over and stretched his arms out. “I guess we are pretty affectionate towards each other around our staff, but I think the whole 8-members thing actually throws them off. Poly packs aren’t as common as they used to be, so it probably hasn’t even occurred to them. They likely assume that some of us are together, just in couples, but they’ve never asked us outright, I think they’re fine with acting ignorant as long as we don’t let them or the public know anything.”

You had collected all of the empty snack bags and were about to throw them away while Hyunjin stretched his arms above his head. “So, is there anything else you want to tell me? I feel like we covered a lot, but just let me know if there’s something else.”

Hyunjin had moved on to stretching his back but paused to smile at you and shake his head. “No, I think we talked about everything we needed to, noona.”

“Okay.” You collected your notebook and bag before shoving the extra snacks in there as well. “Do you think now is a good time to interrupt the dance practice?”

Hyunjin stood up gracefully and sighed. “It’s always a good time to interrupt dance practice. I think Changbin-hyung and Innie will be eternally grateful to you.”

“Not you?” You questioned. “You picked out the snacks and it was your idea.”

He waved his hand dismissively as you made your way out of the dance studio and into the elevator. “They’ll be grateful for about five minutes until they conveniently forget it. Or they’ll ask me why I didn’t come and save them earlier.”

The elevator ride was silent, but much more comfortable than when the two of you had been in the same elevator earlier. You stepped out into the hallway, following Hyunjin until he came to a door on the right.

He peeked in through the window and smiled before gently opening the door.

The song and dance they were doing weren’t as intense as some of their other tracks and routines, it was a B-side they recorded earlier that day, and were still dancing to the guide version, but you could see that they were putting in the exact same amount of effort, no matter what the tempo or sound quality was. Their moves were soft, almost floaty, but they were still very deliberate and precise.

You saw Minho’s eyes glance at you and Hyunjin in the mirror from where he was at the front of the formation, but he gave no other acknowledgment of your presence.

I.N and Changbin also noticed you, but they were less smooth about it. Changbin faltered in his movements and Innie fell behind rhythm.

“Yah, finish up the song, brats. Then we can take a break.”

At Lee Know’s words, the other two seemed to come alive, dancing with more energy than before. The song wasn’t much longer, and their positioning for the ending pose almost made you laugh out loud. Of course, the dance was meant to be for eight members, and there were quite a few missing, so there was Minho and Innie posed together on one side of the studio and Changbin all alone on the other side. Evidently Hyunjin shared the same thoughts as you, but didn’t keep quiet about laughing, even as you two clapped politely.

“Oh, my Binnie-hyung, are you lonely over there?” Hyunjin teased.

Changbin unfroze from his pose to flop down on the wood floor, all splayed out and breathing heavily, but focused on Hyunjin. In a high-pitched voice, he called out, “Yah, Hyunjin, I’m always lonely when I’m away from you!” He wriggled on the floor in a way that you guessed was supposed to be cute, but his obvious lack of energy made it seem more like a fish flopping around on land.

Hyunjin giggled and walked over to Changbin, squatting and grabbing the alpha’s outstretched hand as he murmured something you couldn’t hear.

Innie had flopped down as well, almost mirroring Changbin as he took deep breaths. Minho had walked over to turn the music off, and then sat on the couch with a water bottle.

Seeing that he was mostly okay, you turned back to I.N. “Hey, little alpha. Do you want me to bring you your water bottle?”

Jeongin let out a loud groan that echoed around the studio. “Oh my gosh, noona, you are seriously my new favorite person. Yes, please. It’s the green one.”

You walked over to the wooden counter and retrieved the green water bottle. You spotted a blue and pink water bottle next to it and, deducing that it was Changbin’s, you handed it to Hyunjin to give it to Changbin before you headed back over to I.N.

You squatted next to him just as a loud groan pierced the air. “Y/N! You are welcome to stay with our group for the rest of our lives! I’m going to produce a song about you and sing it at every single concert and award show!”

You smirked at Changbin’s words as Innie thanked you for his water. “Just for brining you your water bottle? At least wait until you see what Hyunjin and I brought in my bag for you.”

Changbin sat up like he was possessed. “What do you have?”

You walked over to your bag and unzipped it, pulling out the barbecue chips Hyunjin had picked out. You tossed them over to Changbin, whose eyes widened as he caught them and read the label. “Yah, Y/N, how did you know I liked these?”

You shrugged as you made your way over to Minho, pudding in hand. “A certain omega packmate of yours might have told me. It was actually his idea, so make sure to thank him.”

Hyunjin had fully sat down next to Changbin, but now, Changbin tackled him onto his back and wriggled the two of them around like happy earthworms.

Minho smiled and thanked you as you handed him the pudding before peeling it open and lying down on the couch. You weren’t entirely sure how safe it was to eat the pudding like that, but he seemed confident in his abilities, like he had done this before, so you left him to it and walked over to Jeongin with the cheese crackers in hand.

Innie had been staring at the other two members, his expression one of disgust, but you could see the fondness sparkling in his eyes. “Gross,” he stated, as Changbin started kissing all over Hyunjin’s face.

“Hopefully, you’ll find this a little less gross,” you told him as you handed him the crackers.

His eyes lit up as he took the packet from you. “Thanks, noona.”

You zipped up your bag and threw it to the other side of the room. “You should be thanking Hyunjin, he picked them out for you.”

Jeongin frowned as he ripped open the snack package. “I don’t need to thank him. If anything, this is what I deserve as compensation for dealing with him.” His eyes wrinkled with his smile as he stuffed a cracker in his mouth. “Oh, thank you, noona! I’ve been extra hungry all day for some reason.”

You smiled and were about to respond when you were interrupted by Hyunjin flopping down next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. “Yes, thank you, noona. I’m really glad that you’re our caretaker. We haven’t known you for long, but I can tell that we’re going to love you.”

…

Sorry for any mistakes, I edited this and posted it in my college’s parking lot😭

Taglist:

(Bold means I can’t tag you, sorry for the inconvenience!)

@eastleighsblog

@detectivedoodle

@niaalove

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@peachbokkie

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[laracrofted]

we'd run inside out from the cold

synopsis: jake takes his girlfriend home for christmas. (or i realized jake seresin will never chop down a christmas tree for me and had to soothe the ache somehow.)

pairings: jake seresin x fem!reader (no y/n, a few uses of a call sign)

warnings: all fluff all the time, swearing, just kissing, smut is implied only but jake has some impure thoughts so... 18+, minors dni

note: inspired by this mood board i made. it was supposed to be short and sweet and instead, it's 2000+ words and suggestive. happy december, babes!

tagging a few people who might like this one @theharddeck @double-j @bioodforbiood @t-nd-rfoot @bradshawsbitch (who wrote a winter-themed bob fic that was so cute and cozy, it sent me into a downward spiral. read it here!)

You are nowhere to be found when Jake patters down the stairs, freshly changed from his stiff denim jeans into flannel pajama pants that’d probably fit him back in his Academy days. They’re a little too short now, exposing a stretch of bare ankle between the hem and his wool socks. 

He shivers in the cold stillness of the living room, tugging the sleeves of his sweater down to cover his palms. 

You are the last ones up, and Jake hasn’t unplugged the tree yet, expecting you to stay up a little longer.

You want to put the Christmas cookies in the oven and watch Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman find love in While You Were Sleeping.

He just wants to wrap his arms around his girl and drift in and out of sleep with you pulled tight against his chest, warm and cozy under a pile of blankets. 

He wants to sneak some raw cookie dough, and when you inevitably scold him for it, lecturing him about salmonella and the like, Jake wants to shut you up with a kiss that tastes like gingerbread and molasses; wants to feel you melt into him like the sugary frosting on his tongue. 

In the soft multicolor glow of the Christmas lights, Jake looks for the familiar shape of you buried under the handmade quilt that Grandma Seresin gave him for Christmas last year. Never mind that Jake has enough quilts to carpet his apartment back in San Diego. Ma has to hold onto the others, keeping them folded upstairs in the closet of his childhood bedroom. 

Still, Jake accepts each new one with a dashing smile and a kiss on her wrinkled cheek.

No one is hidden beneath the quilt.

He folds it over his arm, still warm with her body heat, and Christmas lights gleam off the black iPhone screen on the coffee table. He picks that up too, smiling at the case, clear and covered in little illustrated butterflies that match your call sign. Sets it back down and looks around the room. 

Not in here, Jake thinks. 

He was gone for all of the five minutes and definitely would’ve heard you come upstairs. Ma still hadn’t gotten anyone in to fix the creak in the third and second-to-last stairs. Sounds like a damn cat in heat.

Or… Jake remembers with a slight smirk, like the strangled sound Rooster had let out when Phoenix accidentally nailed him the balls during a round of football one time. They’d never known Rooster’s crows could reach that pitch. 

That reminds him… 

Jake owes Rooster a Christmas Eve text.

He’d gone to the mountains with Maverick for Christmas. Penny Benjamin rented some picturesque cabin in the woods, in an area that was known for good skiing and snowboarding, so Rooster was probably having the time of his life. Still, Jake wants to check in, just in case joining the Mitchell and Benjamin family unit hadn’t gone well. 

He punches out the text. 

A casual, non-invasive How’s it going with Mav? that Rooster immediately responds to with a string of emojis that’d be unintelligible to anyone who doesn’t spend 40+ hours a week with the dude. He seems to be having a good enough time, so Jake slides his phone back into his pocket, looks down at the abandoned phone again.

“Now,” Jake says out loud. “Where did you sneak off to, sweetheart?” 

His voice is almost too loud in the near silent room, and Jake cocks his head to listen more closely for any signs of his girl. He is met with the low buzz of the baseboard heaters and the occasional whoosh of the wind blowing snow against the windows. 

He shivers again, and Jake has an epiphany. 

It shouldn’t be so cold in here with the heat on, which means…

He pokes his head into the kitchen and sees the back door is open. Not enough to let the weather in, just a precaution someone might take to keep themselves from getting locked out. Someone smart, like Jake’s girlfriend. 

He grabs his snow boots, pulls them on over his socks, and quilt in hand, slips out into the bitter night. 

Snow crunches softly under his boots, and Jake will need to sweep the snow from the deck in the morning. He already did it this afternoon, after getting back from the Christmas Tree Farm, but Texas is facing a historically cold winter with record snowfall this week.

Snow paints a pretty picture for a white Christmas, making everything glitter and gleam in the pale moonlight. 

Nothing could ever paint as pretty a picture as the one Jake finds outside.

You’re bundled in one of his old coats, a nice one with a fur-lined hood, and a familiar knit hat. Ma made that one, and after you forgot your beanie in your suitcase, Jake made a big show of setting it on your head during their search for the perfect Christmas tree this afternoon.

He purposely pulled it down too far, covering your eyes too. You scrunched your nose at him and acted all annoyed, but Jake could see the pleased glow to your cheeks, already flushed from the cold. 

It made him feel the same way that Jake feels right now, like your visible happiness is a hot lance through his heart. You’re seated on the brick stairs that lead down to the yard and the stables, but Jake holds back and watches his girl for a moment, unobserved. 

How in the world did Jake Seresin become to the luckiest man alive?

He was always the insensitive one, always the asshole, always second-best even after giving every part of himself over to the pursuit of ice-cold perfection. Him. 

He presses his hand to the soft material of his woolen sweater, right over that aching spot in his chest, and lets out a deep breath. 

“There you are,” Jake says, calling your name. You half-turn.

Snowflakes catch in the hair that escapes from the hat, shining in the dim light from the kitchen windows, and Jake brushes it from the jacket, dropping onto the step beside his girl. He can feel the wet snow seeping into the flannel pants, making them damp. He doesn’t mind much.

You smile at him, bright as the Christmas lights on the tree inside, glittering as the fresh snow on the ground in the blue beams of moonlight. Lean your head on his shoulder.

He wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you against the line of his side, wanting you as close as possible. Not even an inch of space between you. 

He always wants you there. 

Ma was the first of his family members to notice, though Jake’s sisters didn’t take long to catch on too. Damn Seresin women…

“She’s not gonna disappear while I’ve got you washing the salad forks,” Ma joked, smacking him lightly on the shoulder with a plaid hand towel. 

He probably deserved that, missing her prompt to pass the pile of utensils yet again because Jake was too busy looking over his shoulder, tracking you from across the room. 

He whipped his head back around, face warm. 

Ma didn’t miss that either.

“Look at that…” Ma commented, taking the bundle of spoons that Jake handed her and dunking them into the soapy water. “You two gonna okay sleeping in separate rooms? Wouldn’t want you to come down with separation anxiety.” 

“Give it a rest, Ma,” Jake grumbled, embarrassed. He blamed the heat of the still-warm over for the blush that crept down his neck. He waited until Ma was preoccupied looking down at the sink before Jake cast another quick look over his shoulder. 

You might not be sharing a room, but Jake sneaks across the hall into the guest bedroom every night to slip beneath the comforter for a few blissful hours, one arm underneath the pillow, the other wrapped around your torso, cradling you against him. Legs so intertwined that when Jake has to untangle himself to lean over and kiss you in the early morning, slithering his hand across your collarbone, coaxing your head back with a gentle press of his fingers. 

It is hard to leave you there, softly moaning into his mouth in the pre-dawn blue, but Jake has to be back in his own bed before Ma gets up to feed the horses. He’s starting to get dark circles under his eyes from doing it every morning. It’s well worth it. 

“Didn’t meant to disappear, babe. Just wanted to see the snow at night.” Your words are barely louder than a whisper, brushing against the side of Jake’s neck, as if you’re matching the muffled tone of the snowfall. “So quiet out here.” 

“It is,” Jake agrees. “Far cry from San Diego.” 

He notices your knee bouncing and unfolds the quilt over your legs, cocooning you both in a pocket of warmth. It’s cold enough out to fog the windows and cover them in a thin sheet of frost, and Jake can see the puff of your breaths. 

You are warm against his side. 

Soft again, quiet as snow. “Thank you for bringing me here.” 

He swings his gaze to look at you, pitching your chin up with two fingers and looking into your sparkling eyes. It hits him again. Adoration pierces through him, right through the heart, and Jake strokes the side of your face with the pad of his thumb.

You sneak your hand from under the blanket, reaching up to cup the side of his face in turn. Run your palm across the prickled scruff that’s grown on his jaw over the past few days. 

He leans into your hold, closing his eyes for a hushed moment.  

And then Jake pulls back, catching your hand in his and kissing the center of your palm, then interlacing your fingers. 

“Thanks for comin’ with me, Butterfly,” Jake murmurs, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss to your cheek. You happen to turn at the same time, eyes bright, and Jake catches your mouth. 

Your lips are cold, but Jake makes quick work of warming them, coaxing them open, licking into your mouth. You taste honey sweet. Like the white wine from dinner and peaches from the after-dinner cobbler, and Jake drinks in every bit of sweetness, every soft sigh that spills from your lips. 

Hands itching to pull apart the buttons of the coat, to tug the loose sweater away from your neck and press open-mouthed kisses all the way down the line of your throat… 

Jake breaks the kiss. 

Leans his forehead against yours to catch his breath, calming the heart that’s threatening to beat out of his chest, racing like a wild horse.  

“You okay there?” 

He can hear the amusement in your voice. 

A smile tugs at his lips. “Just… Give me a second while I hold back the urge to lay you down in the snow and…” He lets the sentence die. All in the name of holding back the urge. 

You laugh. It echoes like the jingle of bells around the snowy woods.

Wind whooshes through the frosted trees, carrying your laugh back to you, and Jake notices more and more snowflakes gathering on their sleeves, frosting your delicate eyelashes. It’s starting to come down harder. 

“We should head inside,” Jake says, pushing up to his feet. He shakes the snow from the quilt, making a mental note to hang it over the staircase railing to dry overnight. 

You look up at him, and Jake holds out a hand. 

Your eyes sparkle with mischief. “Head inside to watch the movie and make cookies, right?” 

He shakes his head, smirking. “No. I’ve got to get out of these wet pants before I get hypothermia. Thanks to you.” 

Hand slipping into his, Jake watches your mouth drop open, biting down on his lip. He tugs you to your feet, fast enough to send you crashing into his chest, just to hear that familiar surprised exhale shoot from your parted lips.

You look at him with narrowed eyes. “Watch it, Lieutenant. I’m cold too.” 

“Really?” He walks you back under the shelter of the doorway, shield you from the snow with his torso. Icicles glean from the edge of the roof. “Don’t want you getting hypothermia either then, darling. Think I might need to run a midnight shower for the both of us. How’s that sound?” 

Home makes his accent thicker, and Jake plays it up even more, watching the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks. He’s got you, hook, line, and sinker. 

“What about the cookie dough?” is the only protest that falls from your lips. 

“Put ‘em back in the fridge,” Jake instructs, leading you back inside and closing the door behind you both.

 “And don’t you worry, sweetheart…” He presses the next words into the hollow right below your ear, planting a wet kiss there, skating his tongue out to lick the delicate skin. “I’ll go easy on you. You’ve got to be able to get on a horse tomorrow.” 

A wonderful gasp graces his ears, and Jake can’t help his grin. 

You scowl at him, but Jake feels you shiver against him. His grin widens, sharp and intent. He heads back into the living room to unplug the Christmas lights.

Ma sees you headed back from the horseback ride early on Christmas morning before the rest of the Seresin clan will come around to exchange well wishes and open presents.

Frowning slightly, Ma pulls him aside and asks, “Where’d you take that girl this morning?” 

Brows furrowed, Jake recounts the route, taking you around a local trail that ran the length of a frozen stream and gave you a good view of the stables, dusted in white like a gingerbread house. You’d been giddy at the picturesque view, wearing an old film camera around your neck to snap a few shots. You’d pressed your gratitude against the line of his neck, and Jake probably needed a cold shower before changing into his Christmas attire.

“It was an easy one,” Jake asks, confused. “Why?” 

“Wasn’t a rough ride with the snow, was it? She’s limpin’ a little bit.” 

And Jake buries his grin behind a cough. 

end note: butterfly comes from me listening to phoebe bridgers's so much wine cover on repeat while writing this. hope you liked it, but i'd love to hear your thoughts and feelings!

part two with the shower smut, lmk? now posted here!

[lisbeth-kk]

Clues

Thanks for the prompt @calaisreno and the tag @raina-at

Sometimes you need a push.

“You’re going to lose him, you know,” Molly says earnestly.

Sherlock just huffs, focusing on the fingernails on the corpse they’re examining.

When they’ve concluded, Molly continues the one-sided conversation.

“He’ll get tired of waiting. You must know how he feels about you by now, Sherlock. It’s totally obvious, but he’s not exactly…”

“Gay, you mean,” Sherlock snaps at her, puts on his Belstaff with his usual flaunt and exits the morgue.

He gets a text from John in the cab.

Ordered sushi. Can you pick up a few bottles of wine on the way?

Consider it done. SH

He gets some funny emoji in return. A blue-grey two headed thing. When he searches the emoji bar, he finds it next to the lungs. Maybe John’s just touched the wrong one, though none of the other emojis stands out, if you don’t count the inner organs like heart and brain.

Sherlock starts to ponder Molly’s words after he’s stopped for wine. Losing John. Just two words but the meaning of those words is something Sherlock can’t think about without getting nauseous. And then it’s the other thing Molly mentioned. How John feels about him. Sherlock knows John loves him. As a friend, but it stops there, doesn’t it? Has John ever shown interest in Sherlock in a more romantic way? If so, he's hidden it well. From Sherlock at least. There have been no clues. Perhaps Molly just sees what she wants to see. That must be it. She’s a romantic soul, and clearly wants Sherlock to have what she has with…Peter? No, Patrick…Paul? Never mind. 

***

They’ve eaten and finished one bottle of wine. John’s eager to open a second one.

“You’ve got excellent taste in wine, Sherlock,” John beams as he struggles with the cork.

“Need a hand with that?” Sherlock offers amused.

John’s getting tipsy, and it’s a state Sherlock can appreciate. When he let’s go of his Britishness, John gets all affectionate and flirty, and sometimes Sherlock craves that. Craves John’s attention. His indisputable admiration. The aftermath of such events can be devastating for Sherlock. When John apologises, gets awkward, goes for long walks, and dates for several weeks. Tonight though, Sherlock decides to push John a bit. He’s gotten a bit tipsy himself, and Molly’s words refuses to leave him alone. What if John feels…

“There!” 

John interrupts his train of thought when he finally manages to open the wine bottle. He grins at Sherlock.

“Some more wine, gorgeous? You’re glass is empty,” John states and concentrates while pouring wine into both glasses.

Did John just call him gorgeous?

John’s never called him anything like that before. Git, twat, idiot, and his name in all variations, but never endearments. Could that be a sign, or is John too inebriated to notice what he’s said? He needs more data.

“You seem happy today. Any particular reason?” Sherlock prompts, fishing for clues to John’s odd behaviour.

John clears his throat and blushes a bit. It’s quite adorable.

Adorable! Since when did he start using words like that? Too much wine probably.

“I just…um…realised something,” John begins, not looking at Sherlock, instead seems to find his socks quite fascinating.

Sherlock waits for John to continue. It takes a numerous amount of time. When he speaks again, his voice is almost sober and there’s a hint of captain Watson in his stance.

“I’ve decided to stop dating,” John exclaims.

Sherlock’s heart skips a beat at that. Molly was right. He’s going to lose John. Stop dating means that John’s found a woman he wants to settle down with, get engaged to, marry, have kids with. It means John’s leaving Baker Street. His brain buzzes and Sherlock’s afraid he’s going to black out. John has apparently continued talking, but Sherlock hasn’t heard a word. Three words are playing in his mind making him want to vomit.

I’m losing him!

***

Sherlock feels warm, steady and familiar hands on his knees. Thumbs stroking, soothing. John’s voice soft and concerned, now forming coherent words.

“Hey. You alright, Sherlock? What happened? Didn’t you hear me?”

Sherlock blinks rapidly and John’s face comes into focus. His blue gaze has a lovely expression.

Of course it does. He’s finally found the love of his life!

He closes his eyes. Can’t stand to see all that joy directed at a person that’s not Sherlock. His eyes prickle. He can’t cry in front of John. Pinches his thighs to redirect the pain and focus on that instead of the ache in his heart. He knows he’s failed miserably when he feels John’s hand on his cheek.

“Look at me, Sherlock. Please don’t panic. I can…um…just. Damn, I got the clues wrong, didn’t I? Sorry.”

John withdraws and Sherlock’s suddenly cold, bereft of the warmth of John’s proximity. He opens his eyes. John’s standing by the window, a hand over his eyes, silently cursing himself. Sherlock walks over to him, uncertain how to proceed.

“John. What did I do wrong? I’m sorry. I should’ve congratulated you, but I was caught off guard. Didn’t observe.”

John looks over at him incredulously.

“What?” he asks.

Stupid! Stupid!

Sherlock pulls at his hair in frustration. How can he fix this? 

In the end he doesn’t have to. John, wonderful John, his conductor of light, his beloved John solves the puzzle.

He closes the gap between them, takes Sherlock’s hands and squeezes.

“I should’ve known you would go offline and draw the wrong conclusions at that outburst. It was stupid of me. I’m sorry. I was just so damn happy. No, Sherlock, don’t,” John says when Sherlock’s about to withdraw his hands.

“I’m rubbish at this aren’t I? The thing is, Sherlock. The reason I’m giving up dating, well, it’s you.”

John looks up at Sherlock, his feelings laid bare. His eyes are so full of…it can’t be, can it? Love? Surely Sherlock’s mistaken.

“John?” Sherlock whispers.

John lets go of his hands and cradles his face instead, his thumbs stroking his cheekbones. Sherlock closes his eyes and revels in the unfamiliar sensation.

“Look at you,” John murmurs. “So beautiful.”

The awe and affection in his voice, makes Sherlock shiver. He opens his eyes, feeling brave, desperately hoping he’s read the signs correctly. When their eyes meet, Sherlock knows. Knows why John’s giving up dating. It’s written all over John’s face. He lowers his head, reasting their foreheads together.

“You love me?” Sherlock asks shakily.

“God, yes, Sherlock,” John says and beams at him. “Can I kiss you?”

Sherlock doesn’t answer, but acts. He places his hands on John’s shoulders and finds John’s lips with his own. Soft and tender kisses turns deeper, and Sherlock feels like his body’s filled with fireworks. It sparkles all over. In his stomach, thighs, calves, arms, fingers, and god, when John runs his fingers through Sherlock’s hair, he moans with pleasure.

“Jesus,” John whispers reverently. “Your voice!”

***

It turns out that the two women closest to John and Sherlock had taken matters into their own hands. Both Molly and Mrs. Hudson were at their wits end when it came to the clueless men. Mrs. Hudson had warned John with more or less the same words Molly had used to get Sherlock’s attention, and in the end, it worked out perfectly.

“Witchcraft,” Sherlock mutters once he and John had compared stories.

“Well, I prefer to call it magic, my love,” John says gleefully and traces his fingers down Sherlock’s naked body.

“You’re one to talk,” Sherlock gasps as John’s fingers find his nipples.

John laughs in a low, wicked voice, and Sherlock shivers in anticipation. Witchcraft or magic, he doesn’t care. He makes a mental note to buy the two women flowers or… 

“Focus on me, Sherlock,” John whispers, and Sherlock’s nothing but obedient.

Cunning women working their magic on the boys. The story almost wrote itself when that idea emerged in my mind.

@totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @topsyturvy-turtely @peanitbear @missdeliadili

[take-taker-taken]

hey there, "first time asker" is back! i'm so glad i that i was able to inspire something last time:).

i recently had another idea: so it would be shawn x taker again (i'm sorry i just love these two so much). this time a little more explicit? so taker is usually very dominant and a big fan of tying shawn up. this time tho, shawn wants to tie him up for a change and taker agrees. but we all know that shawn is the biggest tease known to man(kind sorry i couldn't resist). taker then loses his patience. but we all know that he is somewhat of a supernatural being, so he manages to undo the restraints without shawn noticing. now its time for taker to reverse the roles and have his way with shawn.

again any era you want and if you want to add or remove something go ahead. hope your cold is gone by now :)

Hellooooo, second time asker! Here is your fic - sorry that it took me so long and I hope it hits the spot! Feel free to picture whichever era you most prefer!

Give & Take - Interrupted

Shawn pounces on Taker right after he walks in the door, wrapping his arms around the bigger man’s waist and stretching up for a kiss that very quickly becomes heated.

“Someone’s keen,” he comments when Shawn finally lets him up for air.

“Well, if you will insist on sending me suggestive texts in the middle of the afternoon…” Shawn says with a smile.

“Suggestive? It was a few little pictures, that’s all.” Despite his flippant reply, Taker’s hands slide down to cup Shawn’s pert ass.

“They’re called emojis,” Shawn says, planting a lazy kiss on his lover’s neck. “And it was that special one that you use - as you well know.”

Unseen by the blonde who’s still nuzzling at his throat, Taker smiles. “Yeah, OK - you got me. I’m a bad man.”

Shawn leans back so that he can look Taker in the eye. “Nah. You’re actually very good. But… I don’t suppose…” He trails off and worries at his bottom lip with his teeth.

Even though it’s obvious that Shawn is plotting, the big man takes the bait as he gently lifts his thumb to the blonde’s mouth and frees the lip before it gets hurt. “Don’t suppose that what?” He prompts.

“I was thinking… maybe we could change things up tonight?” He does his best puppy dog eyes when he adds, “And I could be the one to tie you up?”

Taker looks at Shawn for a long minute as though searching for any trace of an attempt at ribbing but all he sees is wide, honest blue eyes. And so he nods.

“Sure, why not?” His cold heart melts a little at the excited smile that appears on Shawn’s face and he can’t help adding, “But I’m not calling you ‘sir’.”

“No. No, that would be weird,” Shawn agrees quickly and then settles into Taker’s arms again happily and makes a soft, contented little sound when Taker leans down and kisses the top of his head.

“Uhh, put your hands up over your head,” Shawn says, eyeing the railings of the headboard and toying with handfuls of rope. Having already had each of his feet bound to the bottom of the bed Taker silently complies, holding loosely on to the rails and Shawn has to take a minute to just drink him in. Sure, he sees his partner naked all the time, but rarely on display like this. Taker is a big guy and the position he’s in right now shows all the definition in his huge arms. Shawn wants to lay down on him with that broad chest as a pillow and sink his teeth into those pecs… and then he realises that he can. Still wearing his jeans, he drapes the length of rope around his neck and crawls on to the bed, straddling Taker’s hips. He leans forward and begins to wind the rope around the bigger man’s wrists - his work isn’t as neat as Taker’s but he’s sure it’ll be just as effective. He wraps and knots it around the railings as best he can and then places his hands on Taker’s chest, splaying his fingers out across the pecs.

“Does it feel OK? Not too tight?” He asks the same thing that Taker always says when their roles are reversed.

The big man raises a dark eyebrow. “It’s fine,” he says. “But then, it’s not like I have regular circulation.”

Shawn gives a small shrug in capitulation and then digs his fingers into Taker’s flesh slightly and wriggles backwards. His gaze leaves the green eyes and roves across the broad chest below him and then he does it - he dips his head and mouths at the big man’s left pec just above the nipple before gently biting down.

Taker lets out a breathy moan the sort of which he’s never heard him make before and Shawn looks up in surprise.

“You like that?” He tries to keep his tone in check and sound more confident than questioning.

“Yeah,” Taker replies, his voice sounding a little strained. “I like it just fine.”

Shawn understands his stoic lover well enough to know that liking something ‘just fine’ actually translates as, ‘give me more of that right now’. He briefly considers making Taker ask him to do it again but decides against it as while that’s exactly the kind of thing the big man would do to him, he has a feeling it would just send his partner retreating into his shell. So instead, he dips back down and bites again - harder this time, to the point of leaving teethmarks. He’s rewarded with another moan and so he begins to devour Taker’s chest like a starving man, licking and biting his way across it.

By the time he sits back up Taker’s eyes are closed, he’s breathing rapidly and his skin is pink and covered with marks. Also, his dick is as hard as a rock, which Shawn notices when his ass bumps against it and he smirks a little.

“Guess you really liked it, huh?”

Taker’s eyes snap open and Shawn startles as he notices that the other man’s pupils are blown so wide, his eyes look nearly black.

“Enough teasing now.” Taker flexes his arms and stares hungrily at the blonde wriggling on his lap. “You got it like that, so now you can take care of it.”

“All in good time,” Shawn replies, with a cheeky wink as he shuffles backwards. He wriggles his jeans and boxers off and then lays down on his stomach between Taker’s legs in order to be properly on a level with ‘it’. He rests his chin on his hands as he takes some time to admire the delectable treat in front of him, while his partner stares impatiently down the line of his body, glaring at the smug blonde.

Shawn reaches out and wraps his hand around the base, guiding the column towards him before sticking his tongue out and licking steadily from root to tip. He presses his tongue hard against the flesh, feeling it track over the thick vein while at the same time feeling Taker’s thighs tense beneath his hand. He’s sure that he hears a creak from the head of the bed.

In a bid to quell any sense of mutiny from above, he takes the spongy head into his mouth and sucks hard which automatically causes the bigger man to thrust upwards, chasing the pressure. Shawn merely moves with him and continues to tease, curling his tongue around to tickle at the frenulum as a muffled growl is heard from above.

“I told you enough teasing,” Taker’s words come from between gritted teeth. “Take it down your throat.”

“I told you all in good time,” Shawn counters, emboldened by the safety of distance. “I wanna play a little first, and then I’ll slide right down on it.”

“I’ll remember this,” Taker grumbles, flexing his fingers.

Shawn dips his head to hide a smile. “I’m counting on that,” he answers and then noses at Taker’s balls before licking and nipping at the sac while he reaches up with his right hand to slowly jack the now weeping erection. This earns a few sharp intakes of breath as his victim struggles to adjust to the new sensation.

“C’mon, baby…” Taker’s voice is soft now, cajoling. “You know you want to take me all the way…”

Shawn’s head pops back up in almost comic fashion but the smirk on his face is predatory. His expression matches his actions as he crawls slowly back up Taker’s body, making sure to let his muscled abs drag against the bigger man’s dick on the way.

Taker closes his eyes against the insanely erotic sight of his lover advancing upon him and presses his lips together to prevent any kind of sound escaping. He knows that he shouldn’t do what he’s currently considering… That is, using his powers in the bedroom, right now… it wouldn’t be in the spirit. On the other hand, Shawn has now reached his chest and has begun to bite and suck on his left nipple while simultaneously pinching his right. Unnggh.

Decision made.

It takes Shawn nearly a full minute to realise that something is… not wrong, exactly - just different. He’s laying atop the big man having transferred his attentions from nipples to neck and he’s happily nuzzling away there when the familiar, huge arms wrap around him and a kiss is pressed to the side of his head. The big hands slide down his back and then cup his ass and squeeze before-

Hang on a second!

He scrambles to an upright position, to find Taker’s hands very much no longer tied and a quick glance behind him confirms that while his legs are still spread, his ankles are also free. Taker at least has the good grace to look a bit sheepish and he shrugs awkwardly.

“I got impatient?” He offers as Shawn folds his arms and pouts down at him. “The worst torture was not being able to touch you…”

Shawn can’t get mad - he’s still feeling a little high from the dose of power that he was given and so he leans down and kisses Taker gently.

“Well, now you can touch all you want.”

Taker raises a hand to hold the back of Shawn’s head as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into the blonde’s mouth as the smaller man whimpers his submission. As soon as he breaks the kiss, he rolls them in one movement so that their positions are reversed and he stares down into bright blue eyes that seem to be begging him to take charge. He pins the slim wrists to the bed and when he feels Shawn push against the hold he tightens his grip and watches with satisfaction as he shudders.

“Wh.. what are you gonna do with me?” Shawn asks, a tremor in his voice that even if it’s only done for effect, goes straight to Taker’s dick.

Taker doesn’t answer at first - just uses his grip on each wrist to push Shawn’s arms out wide and then dares him with a Look to move as he lets go and untangles the rope from the headboard’s rails. He quickly and efficiently completes the ties and then asks Shawn to confirm that nothing is too tight. Comfort established, Taker drifts the tips of his fingers down the blonde’s arms, watching them tense as he reaches that ticklish spot on each armpit before finally replying.

“I’m going to make you beg, boy toy.”

Shawn can’t prevent the low whine that’s a combination of lust and trepidation. Taker smirks at the noise, leans down and proceeds to visit upon Shawn exactly what was done to him. He flicks his tongue over the heaving chest and then sinks his teeth slowly into one perfect pec. He takes time to appreciate how the flesh feels under his bite, increasing the pressure until he’s sure that imprints will be left behind. Shawn’s head thrashes from side to side as the torrent of pain-pleasure is inflicted upon him.

He teases the blonde’s nipples, the very tip of his tongue dancing insistently over the hard little peaks and then turns his attention to Shawn’s neck. He takes a good handful of his lover’s hair and uses it to hold his head back as he kisses and bites his throat. Shawn mewls quietly as he’s devoured, straining at the ropes just to feel the restraint more fully.

“Please,” He gasps out when Taker finally kneels back up, watching him writhe impatiently.

“Please, what?”

Shawn’s dick twitches at the prompt and he swallows before replying, “Please, sir…”

Taker smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Please, sir… what?”

Shawn bunches his hands into fists, knowing that it will make his biceps flex a little. “I want… Can I come, sir?”

Taker laughs quietly and merely shakes his head ‘no’, before shifting forwards and offering his dick up to Shawn’s lips. “Open up, boy toy; let’s put that pretty mouth to good use.”

Shawn’s eyes close as he takes his lover’s erection into his mouth and caresses the underside with his tongue. Taker thrusts gently, letting out a quiet grunt of his own as Shawn’s teeth softly scrape over his flesh. “Look at me,” he commands and his heart swells just a little when the blue eyes flutter open and meet his own. Taker holds on to the top rail of the headboard and slowly fucks Shawn’s mouth for a while - never pushing too far, just enjoying as much as the position allows.

Eventually he withdraws and stands up, making his way to the foot of the bed, trailing his fingertips along Shawn’s torso and down his leg as he goes. He stands and contemplates the gorgeous creature on the bed, all mussed-up hair and whimpers.

“That looks uncomfortable,” Taker says, with a nod towards Shawn’s straining dick. As if performing on cue, a bead of pre-come leaks out of the dark red slit and dribbles down over the head. “Want me to do something with it?”

Shawn nods rapidly. “Yes, sir - please. God, yes!”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Taker drops forward, catching himself on his hands and then leans over to lick up the drip running down the side of Shawn’s dick. The blonde shouts in surprise and Taker has to clamp his hands down on the smaller man’s legs to prevent him from moving too much. Far from backing off at the extreme reaction, Taker instead captures the weeping head in his mouth and swirls his long tongue around it a couple of times before sucking hard, drawing back off it with a pop.

Shawn’s hips thrust up pathetically despite Taker’s hold and he looks confused that all the bigger man has done is make matters worse. “Wha..?”

“Said I’d do something with it. Not get rid of it.” Shawn looks bereft which just makes Taker smile. “Didn’t I say that I’d remember what you did to me just now?” Somewhat defeated, Shawn nods as he grasps the bars of the headboard. He looks so pitiful that Taker decides to progress things and crosses to the bedside cabinet to retrieve the lube. He very deliberately holds Shawn’s gaze as he squeezes some out on to his hand to warm and then steps up close, tapping the nearest thigh as a signal to bend his knees.

He gently pushes a well-lubed finger into Shawn, working it in and out while the blonde lets out the most adorable breathy little moans.

“Like this part, don’t you?”

“L - like all of it, si-ahh!” Shawn’s response is cut off to a gasp as Taker chooses that moment to add a second finger. “God, that feels so good…” He writhes and pulls against the ropes as Taker seeks out that little bundle of nerves and presses insistently. The pleasurable burn as he’s carefully stretched is all-consuming and he begins to feel as though he’ll come from Taker’s fingers alone.

“You look good all spread out like that,” Taker comments. He twists his hand around and gently scissors his fingers inside Shawn’s grasping heat and the smaller man mewls.

“Please… Fuck me sir, please!”

“You sure you’re ready?”

Shawn nods rapidly in response. “Please!” He says again, thrusting his hips up.

Taker has half a mind to make him wait, but truth be told he’s more than ready himself and so he withdraws his fingers and then slathers more lube on to his dick. As a final tease he bites his way along one of Shawn’s thighs and then kneels on the bed, hooking his hands behind the blonde’s knees. He lines up and then pushes slowly in, gritting his teeth against the squeeze and intense heat until he bottoms out. He takes a few moments to adjust and then draws back, the beginning of a torturously slow fuck.

Shawn stares up at the man above him, relishing the feeling of being completely owned as he’s held in position. Sure, the idea of topping had been fun but nothing can beat this, he’s sure of it.

“Faster…” The words slip out unbidden and result in Taker ceasing to move altogether.

“You giving orders now?” He asks with a raised eyebrow and serious expression.

“N - no, sir. I just… so good…” Shawn bites his bottom lip and does his best to look contrite.

“That’s what I thought,” Taker says and starts to move again. He moves his left hand from behind Shawn’s knee and places it loosely about the smaller man’s throat. “Your job is to lay there and take it. What are you?”

The question takes Shawn by surprise and at first he’s not sure what Taker’s looking for so he blinks, swallows and hopes for the best before replying,

“I’m your boy toy, sir.”

A mildly satisfied smirk turns up the corner of Taker’s mouth and he rewards Shawn with a few rapid thrusts to stab against his prostate before returning to the previous slow pace.

“What else?”

Shawn swallows again, his stomach flip-flopping before he closes his eyes with faux-shame and quietly answers, “A slut, sir.”

Taker gives Shawn’s throat a gentle squeeze. “Whose slut?”

Shawn’s eyes fly open, expression mildly panicked as though he’s desperate not to be misunderstood. “Yours - your slut.”

“Damn right,” Taker mutters and again rewards the admission with more rapid thrusts. “What else?”

Shawn lets out a small whimper as the pace backs off again and then looks Taker right in the eyes as with more intensity he says, “Your whore, sir.”

This time the increased speed is maintained and Taker shifts his hand from the slim throat to Shawn’s chest, plucking hard at his nipples.

“One of these days I’m gonna label you up with those names,” he says darkly. “Get a Sharpie out and spend a while marking ‘em out on you.” Shawn’s chest heaves and Taker knows he’s imagining that act taking place and so he goes on. “We’ll go out for dinner, real civilised, but you and me will both know that under your shirt you’re branded with all those dirty names that you love.”

“Fuck… please, sir. Please let me come?”

“You’ll wait ‘til you’re told, boy toy.” Taker puts his hand back behind Shawn’s knee, using it to anchor him in place for more vigorous treatment. He’s close himself but there’s no way he’s going to admit that so soon.

Beneath him Shawn looks down the line of his body at his dripping cock, the head weeping and red and wonders whether he’s capable of obeying.

Returning vaguely to the evening’s apparent theme Taker adds, “Bet you’d let me fuck you in front of the whole locker room, huh? You’d let everyone know that you’re all mine, to do whatever I want with, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes! God, yes, sir - want everyone to know - know that I’m yours!”

“Good boy.” Taker slows the pace but gives several deep thrusts, aiming them to hit Shawn’s prostate and grunts with satisfaction when his moans of pleasure become shouts. “Might even put a collar on you - nice one with a pretty tag that tells everyone who you belong to.”

Shawn squeezes his eyes shut, a thought fleeting through his brain about whether Taker might let him choose the colour. “Please, sir… please… I don’t know if I can… fuck, please!”

Without missing a beat Taker grabs the lube and gets a dose on to his hand before grasping Shawn’s cock and sliding it up and down. Shawn sobs and clings to the bed rail for dear life as he cries out desperately and Taker can’t help but feel some pity.

“Go ahead, boy toy - come for me.”

With a shout of relief Shawn lets go, his release shooting out in an arc as Taker milks him expertly even when the fluttering of his channel triggers the bigger man’s climax, making his hips stutter and shove hard against the blonde. The two of them are falling together in a bubble of perfect pleasure and as they eventually come down from the peak a silence settles over the room. Breaths slowly return to normal and having slipped out of Shawn, Taker crawls up over him once more and undoes the ties. As soon as his arms are free Shawn wraps them around the broad back and plants a kiss on to Taker’s shoulder.

“Can I choose the colour?”

Taker lifts his head in order to look down at smiling blonde. “Huh?”

“The collar. Can I choose the colour?”

Taker huffs out a laugh and kisses the tip of Shawn’s nose. “Nope - it’ll be black leather. But I’ll let you choose the tag, OK?”

Shawn lets out an honest to goodness giggle and nods happily. “Deal.”

[nerdieforpedro]

Nerdie! I should be getting ready to go into the office, but let's be honest. I'd rather ask you some of the emoji asks than go to work. This is way more interesting.

I also wanted to send you the entire list but I'm only going to send you four: 🍈, 🍍, 🍒, and 🍊. Four may be extra but in context, I'm showing some restraint.

Merci!

Some restraint you say Em? 😆 My Blorbo? MY BLORBO?! There’s three favorite blorbos. 🫣 Don’t tell the other Pedro boys okay? Shhh 🤫

1. Dieter Bravo - he enjoys horrible jokes and puns, touches all the things and people, has his robe, is an artist and he doesn’t always do drugs. He’s sensitive and smarter than people think okay?! He’s the little grabby trash panda that can! 🦝 Dieter likes to roll with what his partner does in the bedroom but on occasion, he’ll take charge. He enjoys surprises in and out of the bedroom.

2. Frankie Morales - he’s usually a pilot, sometimes a mechanic. Always does something with his hands. Those hands they take machines and bodies apart. No longer in combat, as a civilian. Sometimes it’s on a car or plane that they pull things apart. Other times, it’s the body of his partner as he makes them call and cry for him. He also isn’t good with his words so he’s more about actions though it can get kinda muddled. Frankie can switch between being dominant or submissive depending on his partner’s needs. They’ll need to remind him of his own needs.

3. Din Djarin - Sometimes he’s modern, sometimes he’s canon with his beskar. Always kind behind his sighs and despite looking like he’s break everything, he’s gentle and feels deeply. He might be a bit neurotic. It bodes well for plans of attacks and escapes not so much for over-analyzing everything a partner says or does. He’ll always take care of any foundling or child in his care - no matter if it’s Grogu or someone else’s child. Din is a soft dom. I will die on this hill.

I don’t really have any AUs I hate. I’m not a fan of school AUs mainly because I never know what to write for them and they’re kids and I didn’t stay on campus for college so I don’t have a reference for that. I enjoy modern AUs - easy to write for. 🤣 I should try an actual AU, maybe fantasy since I had an idea for that with Din but nothing is written. Just bullet points and vibes.

My favorite character dynamic usually starts off as plutonic and then becomes romantic or is some sort of meet-cute. I do like when maybe the reader or Pedro boy has been watching the other for a bit, and then finally makes their move. Hehe! 😆 I could write plutonic but I feel like there’s plenty of that in the movies and shows so let me live out my twisted dreams 🤗

There’s two characters I want to write more for:

I need to write more for Pero. Either canon, modern or in some other AU. I need to have more of this man on my masterlist being grumpy, growling, mutter Spanish at me the reader or OFC (we know I love my OFCs ok? I like names! 😁) his broad, curly haired self with a sword or soaking in a tub. 👀

I also need to write more for Jack Daniels aka Agent Whiskey, aka, the only reason I would ever don cowboy boots. A stronger southern drawl than Joel in 200% more denim and 100% more ten gallon hat. I’m not sure where I would stick him except in between some thighs.

I hope I answered your questions and fruits throughly. ☺️

[artoriarts]

Ok I don’t want to go make art and I don’t want to go find something good to scrounge up and post so I will instead spout assorted madcom headcanons. these are far from the last you will see from me.

- sanmos 4 lyfe (big sloppy heart emoji) they are both like playfully flirty in diff ways with other people but also so so monogamous at the same time they love eachother sooo much have the healthiest relationship known to man. ignore all the killings.

- 2bhank with the same energy as medic tf2 x heavy tf2. but like also 2b is catboy herder for hank. he holds the laser pointer in the relationship. hank isn’t like full creature I’m still the kind of girlie to place him solidly as kind of the stoic and dysfunctional sociopath but he’s got some of those beasty tendencies in him. the two have such strong attachment to each other but they both have such difficulty expressing it. hank doesn’t know how human well and 2b simply isn’t a soft person even when he wants to be. but they work with what they have. deimos and sanford are so invested in their relationship they chitchat about it constantly. in the most supportive way they want it to go well they just talk about the two being cute and try to help when they hit rocky points. the power couple is so stable they can take on other couple’s drama.

- I don’t know what the ship name is for tricky and hank but there’s like a tiny bit of that too. tricky is hank’s crazy ex but they were never in an actual relationship clown has just been desperate for the dick day one and has not let up for a single second. especially after the halo fiasco literally everyone hates them but they stay silly

- whitehank exists because of something along the lines of hank’s genome getting copied to aahw database when he went in the magnifier and using that agency got the bright idea that if they can’t beat hank. they can make their own. I don’t know actually how she should fit into everything but I like the idea it feels appropriately silly for madcom. the only thing I’m really decided on is that she eventually switches sides and 2b, carrying the entire trans community of nevada on his old man spine, hooks her up on titty skittles and him and hank informally adopt her because cold sad clone babygirl needs parents. she’s like all of hank’s feral swagger if you made it sopping wet and also like garage band punk. I can’t decide if she’s musclegirl as I’ve drawn her before or make her skinny legend I need to lock down the vibes. One important design thing that i know is coming however is that since she’s a copy of mag hank specifically, while hank gets demagnified in my little post canon design shit, she does not, so she is de facto tallest out of the. what do you even call the gang. just the gang? agency for hank wimbleton? the motley crew. the dnd party. nevada’s most wanted. that one actually works we’ll go with that

- funny thing I’ve considered for sheriff is that after whatever happens in project nexus dude just. pisses off somewhere. half hooks up with jeb to make a neutral party for people who just want to fuckin live. while jeb’s on the offensive side of that trying to actively stop the madness sherrif is the defensive side just making settlements for normal people to live they lives. something along those lines. it’s quaint. him and whitehank get together maybe. little guy woos the giant cryptid lady with his southern charm.

- the auditor is workplace sexual harassment personified. simultaneously in the fanfic suave way and the restraining order kind. they talk like stephan weyte. they think they’re soo cool and when someone doesn’t think they are when they want them to they run away and cry.

- I wish I could come up with something for jeb to like round out the primary cast but like honestly he’s the one I spin around in my head the least. I like his motive of make shit normal but maybe he’s just like too clear cut. he’s already got a full character there’s nothing for me to add.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

[writingjourney]

ziplocked love pt. 2 | dew x fem!reader

Summary: Dewdrop is away on tour and you’re struggling more than you care to admit to him.

Content: 4k words, fluff, a bit of angst, smut (18+ only, facetime sex, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, nudes), more soft dew, more banter, aether being a cutie

Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3 | Part 4 | Ao3 link

Again, this is 18+ only because it contains explicit content. I am already preparing for this to vastly underperform xD Thanks to everyone for your help with the donuts! Hope you enjoy!

⸻

Summary: Dew is away on tour and you’re struggling more than you care to admit to him.

One big advantage of living in the ghoul’s den is that they have their own kettle. You don’t need to walk all the way to the kitchens for the comforts of a late night tea. Instead all you have to do is carry your mug from the kitchen area down the hall to Dew’s bedroom, lock the door and settle into your pile of blankets. The tea doesn’t warm you up quite as well as your boyfriend does, but the options are limited and you take what you can get.

Your phone buzzes right when you take the first sip.

S: Send me a hot pic to keep me going ‘til I’m alone later, baby.🍑 

You  smile at your screen and contemplate Dew’s request, staring at the peach emoji he added. You could just do it or… No. You end up sending a pic of your steaming tea mug instead.

Y: Like this?

D: Haha.

Y: Have to be more specific.

He doesn’t reply for another five minutes. The ritual starts soon and with the time difference, it’s getting late for you. While waiting, you try to snap a seductive picture of your baby blue panties. You’re wearing Dew’s shirt with a big inverted pentagram on it but his smell has already faded and even though his room does still smell like him, it feels like you’re taking over more and more. He’s only gone for a month but time stretches so long these days.

D: Skin, baby. Please.

You send him one of the pics you just took, your hip only covered by the tiny panties, the hem of the shirt visible at the edge right where your belly starts. Y: Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.

D: Cute.

You frown at the screen. Y: That’s all I get?

D: Babe, if you want more you have to send more.

Y: And what do I get?

D: Compliments.

Y: Nah, thanks. I know I’m hot.

You think you got him, watch the three dots on the screen blinking, then stopping, then blinking again. He’s probably speechless now, used to you revelling in his praise, maybe you can even get him to beg. But no. You lose the game, the dots disappear. Never gamble with a demon. 

You startle when the device starts vibrating a second later. As always, his picture lighting up your screen makes your heart flutter. You saved him under Little Menace after you learned that he saved you under Little Minx. Seeing the name always makes you smile.

„Hey, handsome,“ you say. „Calling to beg?“

Dew scoffs. „Calling to hear your voice since you won’t give me anything else.“

„Aw, I love you, too.“

„Babe,“ he warns.

„What?“

„Is it so bad that I miss your body?“

You chuckle. „No, but you already have a ton of nudes.“

„I need new ones every day, you can’t expect me to be happy with the one hundred and fifty-three that I have!“ He sighs when you don’t answer. „You just love being mean to me. Letting me starve.“

„I do. Because you’re cute when you get desperate.“

„All I heard was I’m cute and I agree.“ He hums, a happy drawn-out sound that makes you smile. „Okay, I have a proposal. You send me a pic. A really good pic. And later, when I use it, I’m recording that for you.“

„I’m listening.“

„What, that’s not enough?“

„No, I have a bunch of nut vids of you. And I’ll be asleep by then. Where’s the excitement?“

You’re teasing him. Of course it’s enough, of course you’re happy with any crumb he throws your way. He often sends you pictures of himself in front of the venues they’re performing at or just random things he finds interesting and you eat it all up. Last week he sent you a pic of some random person’s cat, saying it reminded him of you, and you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face for hours.

„How about I add some extra pictures? Come on, you’re getting a video and a bunch of pics for just one nude. Great deal, if you ask me.“

You can’t help but chuckle. „Hmmmm. Alright, I think that’s okay.“

„You’re messing with me. You know fully well that you’ve got me wrapped around your finger, you little minx.“

„You’re just very horny,“ you say, smirking at the use of the nickname. „Making deals while horny is never a good idea, baby. Shouldn’t you know that, as a student of the infernal dealmaker?“

„I do know that but you left me no choice.“ He pauses and you wish you could see him. „Wait a sec. How the hell did you manage to trick me when I’m the one who’s supposed to trick humans?“ You hear shuffling on his side, a door, voices. „Fuck, I need to get ready. I love you, baby. And send the fucking pic, I swear it’s urgent.“

With that he’s gone and you let out a sigh of disappointment, the sudden quiet surrounding you like a heavy fog. You’d sell your soul to have him here. But then again you kind of already sold it, agreeing to a romantic relationship with a demonic creature. It’s all fun and games up until the moment you realise they’re not human, that their emotions, their whole minds work in mysterious ways you don’t always understand.

You snap Dew the picture he wanted, trying to bury the doubts, six feet under. He misses you, you know it. Of course what he misses most is touching you because that’s the one thing you can’t do over phones, but it’s not like your body is the only thing he misses, right? 

Unless ghouls don’t feel like that. They are eternal creatures, forged in the ever-burning fires of hell. What’s a few earthly months to them? And he has so many distractions, he has no time to properly miss you.

The thought stings more than it should. It’s not his fault. You know who you’re in love with and he does the best he can. You know he’s already way out of his comfort zone, being committed to you, why can’t you stop wanting more?

After sending him a better photo, you change into sweatpants and a hoodie. No point in looking sexy now and it’s cold in the ghoul’s den, your tea already lukewarm. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that you’re sleeping in Dew’s room, snide comments by Siblings and hushed whispers when you come up the stairs a daily occurrence. But no one has stopped you yet and so you continue to wrap his blankets around you, bury your face in his pillow until you’re close to suffocating.

Even now, you sometimes find one of his silky long hairs in bed or wake up with one of his blond lashes stuck to your cheek. Missing him always feels hardest in those tiny moments – pulling a new shirts out for you to wear and remembering the last time he wore it. Passing by one of the spots in the abbey that he kissed you in. Or fucked you in. Sometimes he just stops you in the hallway to nibble at your neck and tell you he loves you. And you half expect him to do it before remembering that he’s gone. Because he is gone and yet he’s everywhere. Walking around the abbey feels heavy now, the echos of these moments following your every step.

You close your eyes, reminding yourself that in two weeks you’re going to fly out to see him. You can only visit for a few days and then he’ll be gone for another month. But it’s better than nothing, it’s better than whatever this here is.

You’re not sure when your basic bodily functions became dependent on someone else. 

Okay, that is dramatic. You know you can live without Dew, you don’t really need him for survival.

But ever since he left, you sleep like shit. 

There is just something about the empty bed that depresses you. It’s not even the lack of sex, even though him tiring you out most days probably does help, but you’re pretty sure it’s being alone with your thoughts that wakes your insomnia again. Before Dew, these nights were frequent. You’ve gotten used to discussing your days with him, receiving his comfort and undivided attention, clearing your head before it hit the pillow.

Now, you’re just alone with yourself again. 

The longer he’s gone, the more sleep-deprived you are. It doesn’t help that you’re on kitchen duty all week, getting up at five a.m. to help with breakfast and then nearly falling asleep during Morning Mass a few hours later. The same exhausting rhythm every day, slowly grinding you like wheat in a mill, until you’re nothing but dust.

When Dew finally FaceTimes you on their day off on Thursday with a five hour time difference you’re knackered and emotionally drained. For him, it’s still a young evening. For you, it’s midnight on day four of this agonising cycle.

You answer with a forced smile that turns into a genuine one once you see his face. „Hey, baby.“

„Hey, babe.“ He’s lying in a hotel bed, white pillow propped up behind him. „You look so beautiful.“

„Thanks.“ He’s either lying or the dim light in his room hides the bags under your eyes. But you take it nonetheless, any kind word welcome. „You look really handsome, too.“

„I’ve been thinking about you so much today.“ He sighs dramatically. „See, we were at this donut place and they had all your favorites. It felt wrong not to get you anything.“

You hum. „Sounds great. What’d you get?“

„Thought about getting Boston Cream but then they had Red Velvet, so I couldn’t not get that. I mean, it was red.“

„Why am I not surprised?“

„Aw, baby you know I like stuffing my mouth with sweet red things.“

You can’t fight the smirk. „Was it good?“

„It was incredible but nothing compared to your taste,“ he says. „Which is also something I’ve been thinking about all day.“

„Are you alone?“ 

The inquiry is stupid. Literally any of the other ghouls would have been heard snickering or crudely commenting by now. But for some reason the question alone feels seductive.

„Yea, Aeth is over at Rain’s for an hour or so. We’re all by ourselves.“

An hour is good. You can muster enough energy for that.

„How about you show me what’s under that black t-shirt, then?“ you ask.

„Will you show me what’s under yours?“

„Trying to bargain again?“

Dew smirks. „Always.“

You both shed your layers until you’re completely bare and it’s exciting to watch it only via small frames, tiny glimpses, to hear the shuffling but not see all of it just yet. You catch a pierced nipple, a stretch of bare, charcoal skin, the beginnings of his happy trail, slender muscles and boney joints, his hair spilling over his shoulders, until he’s done and holding you up to his face. You can tell he’s flushed, not only horny but properly turned on, ready to do the nasty things you’ve been dreaming of ever since your last phone date. You wish you were more awake, more in tune with yourself.

„You’re so beautiful,“ you say. „I miss touching all of this.“

He smirks. „Me too. Show me more of you, baby.“

You know he wants to see your breasts, they’re pretty much already in frame anyway, and you squeeze your arms together to push them up some more. Dew gives an appreciative hum, followed by a wistful sigh.

„Touch your nipples for me,“ he says. „I want to see them perk up. Like they do when I blow on them.“

You do as he says, moving your fingers over your breasts, circling your areola, squeezing, then rolling your nipple between two fingers, all while watching over the screen how he starts stroking himself. He’s hard and beautiful, veiny and slick with his own spit. It really gets you going to watch him, even though you hate that you don’t get to touch him in any way. He’s already leaking, the skin of his boney fingers glistening wetly. You lick your lips, trying to conjure up his taste, to imagine his hands touching you right now. For a second you close your eyes and it’s almost real. You run a tentative hand down your belly, finding your pussy dripping, waiting, aching for him.

„I’m so wet, baby.“ You whimper when you brush your clit. „So, so wet.“

„Show me.“

It always takes you a while to get comfortable wielding around your phone, to stop worrying about the camera angle or if it looks weird in any way. In the dim lighting, your curves look soft, your skin ashen, almost like it’s dressed in shadows, and you hope it translates. When you move the camera between your legs and play with your arousal, Dew groans.

„Fuck, I can’t believe I don’t get to taste this,“ he says. „I would kill a man to eat you out right now.“

You smile, mostly because you know he’s not exaggerating. But at the same time, you’re aching for his cock far more than for his mouth, mostly because you really need his lips on yours. You want his whole body surrounding you when his tongue pushes past your lips. The lack of kissing during phone sex is infuriating.

„Babe, I can’t see you,“ you complain. He gets sloppy when he’s focused on you.

„Right, sorry.“ 

He readjusts the camera. „Better?“

„Yea.“

„You think you can show me if you’re ready for me?“

It’s easy to imagine he’s sprawled out beside you, giving you orders to touch yourself before he does. You’ve done that before. So you slowly push a finger inside of you, testing the waters before you add a second one. „So ready,“ you say. „Please.“

He curses but you can’t keep your eyes open. It’s painful to know he’s not gonna do it for you, no matter how much you’re begging. You pump your fingers into your dripping cunt but they’re not as long as his, not as nimble. And they certainly don’t stretch you like his cock does.

„Doing so good, baby. I know you’d take me so well.“ His voice is strained, you know he’s pretty far along, his hand moving faster now, rhythmic, obscene sounds coming out of your speakers. They’re not as clear, not as melodious, muffled by the microphone.

Nevertheless they have the same effect on you. „Mhm, Dew.“

„Keep going,“ he says, groaning as his hand moves over his length. You only vaguely register what he’s doing, too busy with yourself. You wish you had your second hand to touch your breasts or even better, to squeeze your throat like he does. It’s not enough stimulation, not enough to drown out your thoughts, the white noise buzzing in your brain, making it hard to let go.

„You have to keep talking,“ you say, knowing it’s the only way you’re gonna come. „Please.“

„Fuck, you just have to imagine it’s me. I’d fuck you so good, you’d scream down the whole abbey.“ Another groan, faster sounds. „You’re doing so well, baby. I can see how much you want me, keep giving me those pretty noises. Make yourself feel good for me, huh. So damn good. Shit, that’s my girl, my good. fucking. girl.“

You tumble over the edge when you hear Dew’s unrestrained moans and whimpers mixing with your own, the slick sounds of his hand spreading his seed over his length as he rides out his orgasm. His groans fill your ears as you press your fingers into your spongy walls, trying to reach higher. It’s intense, despite the lack of body contact, and you feel your heart clenching in your chest. It’s pleasure mixed with a range of other sensations you can’t quite place. Already you can feel your emotions whirling around, thoughts becoming muddled again. You fight back, to cling to sweet oblivion for a while longer, but you’re too vulnerable right now and it takes all the restraint you can muster to bite back a physical reaction. All you want to do is cry like a baby, to let it all spill out.

But Dew is still there, he can’t know.

„Fuck that was so much better than the fucking donut.“ You hear a few more deep breaths. „Aight, baby, I’m just gonna clean up and get dressed before Aether comes back.“

He’s gone then, camera facing the white hotel ceiling as you vaguely hear running water in the background. It allows you to let out the sob you’ve been holding in and the tears fall on their own accord. Your body is sensitive, you’re stripped bare not only physically. You put the phone away, face down so he can’t see you weeping but the quiet only lasts a few seconds.

Because of course he can still hear.

„Are you crying?“ he asks, shuffling back onto the bed.

You fight another sob. „No.“

„Baby, show me your pretty face.“

„No.“

„Hey, don’t shut me out.“

His velvety soft tone makes you pick the phone back up, pouting into the camera as you try to fight back more tears. There is no way you can get rid of the grimace on your face but he doesn’t show it; his face is scrunched up, brows knit together in concern. He’s wearing a black t-shirt now and you miss seeing his bare chest.

„What’s wrong?“ His voice drips with worry. „Baby, tell me.“

„I’m sorry.“ You sniffle. „I’m so sorry, I ruined it.“ 

„No, no, it’s fine.“

„I don’t know what’s wrong with me.“

„That’s okay, it’s all too much, huh?“

All you can muster is a weak nod, closing your eyes to fight the approaching headache.

„What can I do to make it better?“ Dew asks.

Come home. 

But you know the request is unfair and you don’t really want him to. You know he loves touring, he’s having the time of his life based on what you see in all the videos and you want him to soak up all of it. You’re just being selfish, codependent and clingy. And you don’t want to be selfish, codependent and clingy. You want to give him the space he deserves.

„Nothing,“ you say. „I can handle it.“

„You’ve been a bit off for a while now but I figured you’d tell me if something was wrong,“ Dew says. „You trust me, right?“

„I don’t know what you mean. Of course I trust you.“

He ignores you. „Is it just missing me? Or something else?“ 

You frown. Just missing him. For some reason this feels like the wrong answer. Just missing him. He’s obviously doing so much better than you.

 You swallow, the lump in your throat making it painful. „You know orgasms make me emotional.“

„Baby, this is not that and we both know it.“

He gives you a minute to search for an answer which is fair and very unlike him and his impulsive nature. You appreciate his patience and to see his handsome face so full of concern eases your worries. He’s trying so hard for you. You don’t need to hide.

„I sleep really bad,“ you admit, looking away. „And yea, I really fucking miss you.“

„You’ll be here soon, though. In a week.“

„Yea.“

„You can do it, right?“

„Yea, I’ll manage. I can handle it,“ you say, barely hiding your irritation. „I told you.“

„Hey, don’t be snappy.“

You look back into the camera. His face is surprisingly soft, not upset like you expected. He looks beautiful with his hair slightly messy like that, eyes still glinting with that post-orgasmic bliss.

„I miss you, too. You know that, right?“

„Yes.“

„And I can’t wait to see you.“

„Mhm.“

He scoffs. „I can’t wait to see you too, Dew,“ he says in a high-pitched voice, a poor imitation of yours. „I love you sooo much.“

Despite yourself, you smile. „Idiot. I don’t sound like that.“

„Look, there’s my baby.“ He smiles. „So fucking pretty.“

His words cement the happy expression on your face. It feels good to hear him say it, feels good to have him cheer you up. His virtual comfort is a bandaid that’ll carry you over the next week. Seeing him will be a proper remedy.

„I guess I’m just really tired,“ you say in defeat. „I’ve been on kitchen duty all week which means getting up at five and then I can’t sleep until three most nights.“

„You’re running on two hours of sleep?“

„That’s being generous, yea.“

„Now I’m not surprised you randomly start crying,“ he says. „I would have most likely killed someone by now.“

You giggle. „Oh, yea, you would’ve.“

A door opens and Dew groans in annoyance.

„Heeeeey,“ you hear Aether calling. „You decent?“

Dew rolls his eyes. „No.“

„You are, you liar.“

Aether comes into frame, plopping down behind Dew and pulling him close to his chest, saying your name. „Hi.“

„Hi, Aeth.“

„You look pretty,“ he says.

„Stop staring at her boobs,“ Dew says. „Baby get a shirt. He’s ogling you.“

You roll your eyes and put the phone to the side, slipping into the shirt from earlier. „I don’t know why you care, he saw me so many times by now.“

„Only because he doesn’t know what knocking is.“

„Hey, if you don’t lock the door that’s like an invitation,“ Aether says. „Besides, your girlfriend loves when I come over to cuddle at night because then she can finally be someone’s little spoon.“

„What are you talking about? She loves being the big spoon. Don’t you, baby?“

You grin. „I love both.“

Dew makes a face while Aether’s smile widens. He squeezes Dew to his chest, engulfing him in a hug that is so tight he almost drops the phone. „You are very small spoon shaped,“ Aether says. „I get it.“

„Fuck you,“ Dew replies.

„Wish I could squeeze myself in there,“ you say with a sad smile.

Dew’s eyes find yours over the display and he gives you a knowing look, aware of your pain, but Aether doesn’t seem bothered.

„If you want something to cuddle with you can take my huge banana plushie, that’s basically Dew’s size anyway,“ he offers, then snickers. „Well, the size of his body.“

Dew makes to complain but you interrupt him. „Thanks, that’s a nice idea. Hey, if you two are tired, we can just say goodnight.“

„No, we’re not tired,“ Dew exclaims. „It’s only eight.“

„I am tired,“ Aether says.

„Not my problem.“

„It’s okay,“ you say. „I can just…“

„No, I want to fall asleep with you.“ Dew awkwardly wriggles free from Aether’s grasp. „Or watch you fall asleep at least. Would that help with your sleeping issues?“

„Maybe.“

„She has sleeping issues?“ Aether asks.

„Stop listening in,“ Dew chides. „This is a private conversation. Private. Do you want me to spell it out?“

„It’s not private. We’re in the same room. I can’t not hear you.“

„Try harder?“

While they bicker, you put the phone away, clean yourself with a tissue and finally pull the covers over your shivering body. Then you prop the phone up on Dew’s pillow. After a few tries you get it to stand so you don’t have to hold it anymore. It takes a few more minutes until Dew has his bed for himself again and you see his face.

„Want to try and sleep?“ he asks. „I’ll just… hang around until you do.“

„You don’t have to.“

„I don’t want you to fall asleep alone and sad. So, yea I have to.“

You reluctantly nod and close your eyes. You are tired, or at least your muscles are, getting heavier by the second. You’re almost asleep when you hear his voice again, a whisper that gives you goosebumps.

„Hey, baby? I love you.“

You smile. „I love you, too.“

Somewhere in the background you hear Aether call over the buzz of a toothbrush. „I love you, too!“

⸻

I hope this was at least a little bit of what you wanted it to be because ngl I don't do well with the pressure of expectations. I can see myself writing a part 3 with a reunion, so lmk if you'd want that. Prequel is in the works, too. Feedback is as always much appreciated and a big motivation for any writer, remember this is not the clock app and we're real people. Have a nice day friends and thanks for reading!

Part 3 here

[aseuki]

I'm not entirely sure which ones were asked yet, so just do whoever you want for these emoji:

🥘☀️🌙🍒

[ask meme]

Ah, for sure!! *rubs my little hands together*

Oh this ended up WAY longer than I expected so shoving it all under a cut to spare everyone's dashes!

🥘 (Stew) - Do they have any favourite foods or comfort foods? What are their eating habits like? If absorbed by the Cook ability, what healing item would they summon?

Stell's favorite food is strawberry shortcake! Freshly-baked goods are a rare commodity when one is an interstellar wanderer, so they definitely take whatever chance to grab one when running errands planetside.

Outside of the occasional treasured sweet, much of Stell’s diet actually comes from the produce he personally grows in his star through hydroponics! They’re surprisingly quite good, when he does remember to eat haha

For Phemus, she likes to claim that her favorite food is whatever sludge they call coffee in the Underworld Office Break Room asdkfjsdfkn

Under the Cook Ability I think he deserves to drop Battery Acid Spaghetti -50 hp don't eat this

or an actual food item though it'd most likely be the soft serve ice cream cone! Cold and sweet! Little guy is like the snowball after all

it’s honestly debateable whether she actually drinks it or simply pretends to and makes slurping noises to piss off her coworkers >:’D I think she’s pretty partial to the idea of freshly baked bread though, especially something sweet like brioche 🤔

If shoved in the big cooking pot I think she’d drop an orange cream soda! Fizzy and colorful!

☀️ (Sun) - What’s their morning routine like? Do they take a lot of time getting ready in the morning? How do they groom themselves? What are they having for breakfast?

Stell's routine is relatively simple: get up, check in with Anima to see if he missed anything while unconscious, and work from there! Any urgent issues will lead to jumping immediately to work, but if allowed to work at their own pace, they'll take a moment to grab a quick bite and maybe fit in a training session before hopping back to fixing Anima up--working on a planet-sized piece of clockwork is hard work after all! Most of the big personal hygeine is taken care of at the end of the day, so that he can wash off all the grime and grease and dust en masse before bed haha

Phemus is like that weird fucking coworker who you never really see clock in and yet she’s always there before you who knows what her AM routine is like asdkfjn her daily routine is to get up, ✨manifest✨. Sparkle on, it's Monday!

🌙 (Moon) - Is your OC a particularly light or heavy sleeper? Somewhere in-between? Do they take naps?

Answered for Stell here, but for Phemus, it's virtually impossible to catch her actually sleeping on the job--she likes to pretend to when it's funny (or when she's slacking) but don't be fooled by the incredibly obvious snork-mimimimis

🍒 (Cherry) - Out of all of the Dream Friends [Kirby included], which ones would they get along with the most? The least?

Looks at Stell and their extremely asocial nature. Honestly, the question may be who would tolerate each other the most asdkfjn That being said, Meta Knight or Dark Meta Knight have the highest chances for allowing mutual tolerance since they’re both the least likely to poke into his business outside of the inevitable challenge for a spar (which he’d happily oblige).

As for who he’d get along with the least, well it’s said that like repels like, and let’s just say the nuclear fallout of Stell and Susie’s egos clashing would be. Something, to say the least!

For Phemus, her easygoing nature makes her pretty likely to gel with just about anyone, but for the sake of the prompt I’d say her gossipmongering ways would earn her a pretty steady friendship with Daroach, canonically the chattiest motherfucker in the entire kirby canon asdkfjn

It’s hard to imagine her not getting along with anyone in particular, but I can see some of the more reserved folks being repelled by her outgoing demeanor. On her end though, I can likely see her initially approaching someone like Gooey with some level of unease and confusion before settling into ‘ah, this is just how he is!’ and moving right back to being pretty amicable!

That's all I got for now, thank you so much for the ask Kachi!!

[c-and-matteo]

Hi! I discovered I'm a switch with my most recent boyfriend, who happens to be a switch but is more inclined to be a sub. I am still exploring my domme side, which I didn't know I had until I met him and dwelved into the world of kinks. Because I've been more exposed to the idea of women ( I am myself a woman) being submissive and vanilla sex all my life, because I am a shy person, and because I became aware of my domme side fairly recently, I think, sometimes it is hard for me to find the confidence to dom my partner as much as and in all the ways I would really like to. Do you have any advice for women who are just starting in their domme 'journey'? Any advice would be appreciated.

For me when I started, a lot of my confidence came from having a plan. Or at least an idea of what I wanted to try during the scene. Of course things won’t go exactly how you think, but just focusing on the energy I wanted to create in the scene.

One thing that helped me a lot when I first started out was doing things to my partner that I would have liked a Dom to do to me when I was subbing. (If those things work for your partner, that is.) I started very simply with a scene structure where I laid down a couple of rules for my sub to follow (I.e. always say “yes ma’am” after i tell you to do something, no touching me without my permission) and then “punished” (more funishment, really) him if he broke one.

I’ve always liked spanking, so I leaned into that when I started because I felt like the concept of it turned me on enough that I might like doing it to someone else— and turns out I was right.

Another thing I did was to create a questionnaire for my partner to see what kinks he was most into that I wanted to try. I made a list of the kinks I knew I wanted to try and I created an emoji key like this he could use to communicate his answers:

🥵 = very horny yes

☺️ = sounds nice

🫣 = nervous but yes

🥴 = embarrassed but yes

🧐 = curious

😶 = neutral

🫤 = eh, soft limit

👎 = hard limit

I gave him time to fill it out on his own, and I had other questions in there too that required written responses.

Once I got his answers we went over them together and I asked follow up questions and clarifying questions where I felt it would help.

Another thing I’ve found to be crucial is establishing not only your safe word / words (we use the classic green/yellow/red system) but also making a plan for what will happen if they’re called. And we practiced calling them before being in a scene, too.

I was surprised with my partner how difficult it was for him to call yellow/red in a scene, he often felt worried it would mess up the flow, so we would practice in a space that was not as sexually charged before going into a scene. This helped me feel more confident that he would communicate with me if something was off

When I’m playing with my partner my biggest concern is often if he’s okay, if he’s enjoying himself. Having safety guards in place and knowing he will call yellow/red if he needs to helps me feel confident.

The journey is so personal, so please take all of this with a grain of salt and follow what feels right to you.

I feel like this was just the tip of the iceberg, but hopefully it helps. 🤍

[sakumasmut]

I wish I had horny thoughts to share, but the head is just full of soft Himeru. Both him being soft and being soft with him. Also the fact that his hair must be super soft. I wanna run my fingers through it so bad. Watch him get so sleepy from a bit of physical affection. Dozing off soundly right then and there. From tense to completely boneless in seconds. Good luck getting him to move. But why move at all? Stay on the couch... or bed... snooze a little too. Might as well when used as a pillow by the pile of vaguely human-shaped goo. There's no going anywhere anyway... because no way you'd ever have the heart to wake him, right?

Also (because this is a smut blog after all lol): sleepy sex best sex, I will die on this hill. It'd be really hard to convince him not to get up early (or would it really? If he doesn't have any urgent work... the protest is little more than keeping up appearances...) but once you do? No one is moving - at least not to get up - anytime soon. The sort of day where being awake and asleep blur into one, much like the lines between your bodies blur when he lazily grinds into you... or just cockwarming... spooning... the good stuff.

Semi-related other way of making him relax and melt? Peg him. I wrote half a novel on that for a reason. It needs to happen. He deserves it.

An oddly specific scenario (maybe one day to be written properly) lives rent free in my head about him just coming home exhausted, but the kind of exhaustion and stress that lingers and won't allow him to relax at all. If he feels like it, he gets to vent, whether it's actual verbal complaints or just him sounding generally disgruntled lol But while that helps (as does the aforementioned playing with his hair or giving him a much deserved backrub) instead of passing out with his head resting on your thighs like he usually would from that alone, it's clear the situation calls for more drastic measures. Cue the strap. Maybe he doesn't ask outright, maybe he doesn't even know how badly he needs it himself, but when a completely unintentional touch on his butt (Can't skimp on that! It's part of the back, so it gets rubbed. It's only right. Doesn't matter that he's flat as a board...) provokes such a sweet (not at all a reason to be embarrassed, Meru!) reaction, how could you not? I don't think him the type to be overly inclined to sub regularly, but after a day like that? No thinking for Himeru please and thank you. And just handing over the reins to be fucked silly is certainly the nicest way to ensure that. It's fine to manhandle and order him around a little, he's happy to do as he's told. But make sure to reward him plenty. He works so hard. Better appreciate him.

Lmao okay, never mind. This did end up horny after all. Mission accomplished.

I did contemplate whether to sign off with the emoji I still have claimed since you asked for a sign of life from your anons, but I feel like after this ramble you as well as anyone who's spent more than 5 minutes on the smut side of the enstars x reader fandom knows who wrote this anyway lmao

- @deepersea

I’d be surprised if his hair wasn’t soft to the touch, he’s got a whole makeup and skincare routine, so fancy shampoo and conditioner seem like they’re hand in hand. Definitely something you wanna run your fingers through rather than ruffle up.

Sleepy sex!! always good!! I do think meru isn’t the type to stay in bed too long in the morning, even when he has no work he has a sleep schedule to maintain. but a bit of lazy grinding won’t do any harm, maybe it’ll even wake him up. if you reaaaaally insist on clinging to him, he’s not against sleeping with his cock inside you, pulling you close so that he wakes up to your body warmth embracing him in the best way. though trying to pull out without you noticing is a whole separate thing, maybe it’d be better to wake you up with some thrusting instead…

I fully agree with you when you say pegging could fix some of himeru’s problems. getting him to be vulnerable is hard, but I’d assume if you’re already in a relationship with him he’s got lots of trust in his partner. so, if they want to help him relax, after a stressful day, he’s not going to decline. I imagine during foreplay you can run a finger down his spine and get lovely shudders if not moans from him, so while you’re pegging him, stroking his cock and rubbing circles along his lower back, you’ll probably have him cumming in seconds.

and let me know if you still wanna keep the sign off! I usually delete them if the owner reveals themselves like with crow

[anxiousgaypanicking]

Oreo

Synopsis:  As a joke, Roman's forced to ask Virgil out after losing an oreo. Flustered, and somewhat embarrassed and humiliated by the connotation that dating him would be such a bad thing, he says yes out of impulse, and must now deal with what being Roman's "boyfriend" entails. Taglist: @renys @falsemood

Part Five: Oversleeping Masterlist

Does he even have a reason to despise Roman? A real reason? 

He knows he hates Remus, but he can’t drag Roman into his brother’s bullying. Well, technically he could, but it’d be immature. 

Huffing, Virgil tries to think of a reason - perhaps an annoying interaction they’ve had or teasing that was taken too far - but he ultimately comes up short. He just seemingly decided one day after seeing him around Remus that he didn’t like the man. Overlooking the fact they’re brothers in order to justify his bitterness. 

Virgil squeezes his eyes shut. 

Okay, he’ll admit that was a bit unfair of him. Deciding that he didn’t like Roman just because of who he’s related to was silly. 

But, at the same time, Remus harassed him and his friends constantly. How could someone as wonderful and caring as Roman be related to someone who’s so pathetic that he picks on other people to feel some semblance of self worth? 

Virgil’s fists roughly hit against his pillows, letting out a frustrated groan as he struggles to sift through the thoughts flooding within his mind like unruly waves crashing against a beach. He can’t focus on anything for more than a few seconds; a thought would come, he’d feel guilt or justification, and then a new thought would take its place. 

He sits back up, adjusting his position on the couch, before he turns and presses his face into a new cushion. Closing his eyes once again, the “date” he’d just gone on plays in his mind like a movie. 

Roman’s smile… The ease by which he talked... 

And his laughter. 

Virgil pulls his knees up to his chest, sighing as he urges himself to relax. The sweet taste of a milkshake on his tongue seems to linger. A wave of exhaustion overtakes him as the exertion of today finally catches up. He’s not an extrovert by any means, and spending the entire day out with Roman was taking a toll. 

He leans back on the couch, yawning dramatically, before pushing his face hard into one of the cushions. He lets his eyes close. The date seems to play in his mind like a movie, and he lets the memory of Roman’s soft chuckle lull him to sleep. 

***

He wakes up the next morning with a headache. 

His phone is beeping repeatedly, and when Virgil looks at him, he’s quick to push himself onto his feet. 

Groaning as a wave of vertigo overtakes him, he watches a call from Janus suddenly end, adding to a culmination of missed calls currently capped at “16,” but still threatening to increase. He doesn’t bother answering, instead quickly unlocking his phone as he stumbles towards his room, being met with a barrage of texts including ‘where are you?’ and ‘class started fifteen minutes ago!’

Fifteen minutes. And to make matters worse, Virgil can tell he’d overslept, meaning he feels exhausted as ever. Next time he gets home early from a date, he’ll try to keep himself up until ten. 

Quickly, Virgil sends an ‘i overslept’ text to the group chat, met with the singular reaction of a thumbs-down emoji from Logan. Truly helpful. 

He quickly gets ready, shrugging off his dirty clothes in favor of a different hoodie and another pair of black jeans, before patting his pocket to make sure he has his house key. He throws his backpack over his shoulders, and nearly trips down the stairs. 

Under his breath he curses himself for putting off getting his driver’s license. It’s not a long walk by any means, but with him already being late, having a quicker mode of transportation would definitely help. 

Essentially sprinting, he can feel himself getting sweaty, and he shakes his head and groans as he realizes he forgot deodorant or toothpaste. Gross. 

When he finally hauls his ass into school, he desperately explains his situation to the main office, and is given a late pass which he shamefully carries as he makes his way to his first class. He looks a mess, and he knows it, and so tries to keep his head down as he walks inside. 

Every head raises to stare at him, including Janus’s, and the teachers. He shifts uncomfortably where he stands. 

"Mr. Addams," she addresses him, sounding rather annoyed. "Glad to see you're finally joining us. Do you have a pass?” 

Virgil raises her arm to hand her the slip, and she reads over it before nodding and setting it on her desk. 

“The office will adjust your attendance,” she says, dismissively, and Virgil walks to his desk in the back of the room. His chest aches as he feels everyone’s eyes following him. How stupid does he look? Did he remember to lock the front door?

He collapses into his seat, feeling his legs throb as he keeps a hand on his chest, trying to steady his breathing. Running here took so much effort, and keeping his eyes open wasn’t proving to be any easier. He feels as though he’s going to fall to the ground unconscious at any moment. 

He resists the urge to lay his head down on his desk, and tries his best to pay attention, not wanting to upset his teacher any further. She already wasn’t pleased with him; he’d hate to do something that would result in a stern talking-to, or even worse, a referral. 

In the corner of his eye, Virgil watches Janus type on his phone under the desk, though his head stays straight. His eyes look between Virgil and the teacher. Though he’s curious, Virgil doesn’t bother to check the vibrating phone in his pocket, not wanting to risk fumbling and dropping it. He’d already drawn enough attention toward himself today. 

Thankfully, the bell rings after just a short while for Virgil, and he trudges out of the room, Janus at his side.

“Geez, you look like shit,” he comments, making Virgil roll his eyes. He rubs at his face, focusing around his eyes, as he tries to wake himself up more. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I might pass out,” Virgil groggily responds, before forcing himself to stretch. As he reaches his arms over his head, he lets out a slight groan, and then relaxes again. It didn’t help much, but his body feels less strained. 

Janus sets a hand on his back. It’s a light touch, but it’s clear he’s helping guide Virgil, if only a bit. 

That doesn’t keep Janus from grinning, though. “Don’t worry. All you have to do is stay alive until lunch, and then you can fall asleep on that hunk of a boyfriend you have.” Janus wiggles his eyebrows, attempting to entice some bitter or embarrassed refute from Virgil, but all he gets is a slight hum in response. 

Janus whistles. “You must really be tired, hm? Not a glare? No shoulder punch?” He stops their walking to set the back of his hand against Virgil’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re just feeling tired? You’re not running a fever or anything, are you?” 

Virgil finally scoffs, and pushes Janus’s hand away. Janus was right in a sense though. He just had to make it to lunch. Then, he could take a quick nap! Hopefully, he’d feel better after that.

Thank god tomorrow was Friday.

Virgil sleepwalks through his next few classes, but it doesn’t seem like any of his teachers notice. Janus and Logan accompany him through a few of them, but he hardly notices. With his head down, he struggles to keep awake, and resorts to kicking his leg in order to stay awake.

Finally, after what seems like centuries to Virgil, lunch comes around. 

His eyes burn, and he feels like he’s shaking with every step he takes. He just needs to make it to the cafeteria. Then, he’ll be okay. 

As he’s walking - rather slowly - towards the loud chatter and open double-doors, an arm wraps around his shoulders. Virgil jumps, and stiffens as he cranes his neck upwards, only to see Roman. 

“Lacking the pep in your step, I see,” Roman jokes, and Virgil can’t help the small smile that graces his lips. 

“I’m tired,” Virgil clarifies, as he lets Roman guide him forward.

Roman chuckles. "You shouldn't be; you told the teacher you overslept.”

Virgil rolls his eyes, but Roman suggests “you can nap at lunch. I don’t think all the screaming would make the greatest white noise, but to each their own.” 

Virgil laughs softly. “Janus told me a similar thing.” He leaves out the bit where Janus joked about Virgil falling asleep against Roman. Being reminded of that, he’s quick to pull himself away from Roman, who eases his grip and allows Virgil to do so. 

People whisper as they pass. It was still big news that Roman decided to date some social outcast! Virgil still needed to ask how people found out about that, though, with Roman’s love for affection and his brother’s big mouth, he definitely had a few guesses. 

Once they sit down at their table, Virgil immediately slumps over it, and tucks his head into his arms. Roman, who’s apparently decided this was his new table as well, pats Virgil’s back comfortingly. 

“I take it you’re no longer completely against dating Roman?” Janus teases, alluding to the fact they walked in together. 

Virgil just shrugs, too lethargic to care at the moment. 

Janus laughs. “Better watch out, Roman! Virgil might actually be falling in love with you.” He winks, and Roman smiles, but Virgil lets out a string of muffled words at Janus’s teasing. 

They’re mostly incoherent, but Janus can just assume the obvious; Virgil was obviously saying something along the lines of “I could never fall in love with someone like him.” 

Roman has no qualms laughing at Janus’s words, though, cheeks a nice pink at the idea. Virgil actually falling in love with him? Never. And Roman becoming equally smitten? He doesn’t see it happening. 

There were no real romantic feelings between them, and Roman knew that. But he’s not a quitter, and if Virgil insists on being in this “relationship,” then Roman will make sure it’s the best relationship Virgil’s ever partaken in. 

Sneaking a glance downwards, Roman’s met with Virgil’s (supposedly) sleeping figure. He was breathing rhythmically, so Roman assumes he’s finally managed to drift off. 

Out of courtesy, Roman lowers his voice, and when Logan finally comes over to join them, he does the same. Logan has a book out as he eats, but he has no problem talking while reading, as if that wasn’t an impressive task. And as lunch carries on, Logan and Janus become more invested in each other, leaving Roman to eat his lunch quietly, side-by-side with Virgil. 

When the bell rings, Janus and Logan get up and walk off together, leaving Roman with a sleeping Virgil. 

With a sigh, Roman gently shakes Virgil awake. Virgil groans, before weakly swatting at Roman’s hands. His accuracy is horrid, but Roman’s arms retreat anyway, giving Virgil space to stretch. 

“Don’t touch me… you heathen….” Virgil yawns, blinking his eyes open. 

Roman grins. “Heathen? That’s an awfully mean thing to call somebody who’s looking out for you. Here I am, selflessly making sure you get to your next class on time, and you insult me.” Roman sets a hand on his chest, feigning being struck, as if Virgil’s insult had punched him square in the torso. 

Virgil stands, yawning again, before cracking his back. Then, he begins walking. Roman walks with him. They don’t share the same class this period, but it’s in the same general direction.

“Believe me, Roman, I could call you worse,” Virgil threatens, voice gravelly. He still sounds exhausted, but he looks a bit better. Hopefully, with a quick cat-nap, he’d be better suited to finish the rest of the day. 

Roman laughs, but doesn’t respond. Silently, they head to Virgil’s class, before Roman waves and turns away to walk to his own, leaving Virgil to settle himself at his desk. 

Their afternoon classes are uneventful, and the two are both fairly happy when the dismissal bell rings. Roman runs to his locker, which is already swarmed with fellow football players, other boys trying to associate with the “cool” jocks, and girls desperate to talk to them. 

He manages to worm his way to his locker, but in attempting to grab his stuff and leave, he’s stopped by Remus. 

“Hey, loser,” Remus greets him, with a wide smile. He’s leaning against the locker next to Roman’s. “Have you convinced that outcast to break up with you yet?” Remus picks at his teeth with his pinky as he waits for an answer, seemingly intrigued. 

“No,” Roman replies, as he shuts his locker a bit louder than necessary. “I haven’t been trying.” 

Remus looks a little surprised. “Why not? Don’t tell me you actually caught feelings for that accident?” 

Roman narrows his eyes, turning to Remus with comically red cheeks. He was frustrated, but such a look could easily be mistaken for fluster. A strange compulsion to defend Virgil wells up in his chest. Maybe it was because Virgil wasn’t here to stick up for himself. 

“So what if I have?” is his immediate jest, threatening Remus to raise any sort of objection. “Is that such a problem?” There’s a glare not normally present in his soft green eyes, and it makes Remus jut his chin out in a mixture of curiosity, and amusement. 

Roman doesn’t actually have feelings for Virgil, but he has respect and basic decency. Unlike Remus, apparently.

“You barely know him,” Roman continues, as the increasing volume of his voice draws the attention of the people around them, “and from what I’ve seen, he’s a better person than you are.” 

“That’s not a hard bar to surpass.” 

Roman groans, before stomping his foot dramatically. “Whatever, Remus! Get out of my way; I’m going to see my boyfriend.” 

He pushes past Remus, purposely bumping his shoulder against his brother’s, before stomping off, leaving Remus there, intrigued. 

Roman takes deep breaths as he makes his way to Virgil’s locker, where he hopes the latter is. And he’s pleased when he sees Virgil there, though Virgil looks exhausted. 

His forehead is pressed against his locker, eyes closed. He was holding his bag by his strap, though it hangs down, being drawn to the floor. 

Roman sets a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, and apologizes immediately when Virgil jumps. His eyes are wide as he stares at Roman, before sighing out a short “what do you want?” Ever so polite, Virgil wastes no time getting straight to the point.

Roman smiles. “I came to ask if you wanted to come over!” 

“Why?” Virgil responds, voice sounding tired. It’s enough to make Roman shift his weight from one leg to the other, debating whether or not he should just drop the topic. 

“You mentioned earlier that you didn’t like being alone,” Roman replies, smile faltering slightly. “I came to provide you an alternate option!”

“Who said I’d want to spend time with you instead?” 

Roman lets out a sigh, adjusting the bag on his back. “I guess you have a point. I’ll take that as a no, then.” He turns to leave. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow-” 

His hand is immediately grabbed, and Roman turns to see Virgil looking a little anxious. He quickly masks it when they make eye contact, and releases Roman’s hand just as quickly.

“I never said no,” Virgil replies, wiping his hand on his pants as though Roman had infected it with germs. “I’ll come over. Are your parents okay with this?” 

Roman just shrugs in response, but he smiles wide. “I’m sure they won’t mind.” 

He takes hold of Virgil’s hand, pulling him through the school and out the front door. He pulls a pair of car keys out of his pocket, and leads Virgil to a slick, white car. Not a single splatter of mud or pile of bird shit over it. Roman unlocks it, and even opens the passenger side door for him.

The seats are comfy, and Virgil settles into his with a pleased groan, as Roman gets into the driver’s side and starts the car. 

“I could fall asleep right now,” Virgil comments, making Roman laugh. 

“It’s a short drive,” he assures Virgil. “I have a comfy bed you can fall asleep on at home instead.” 

Virgil lets his head fall to the side, staring at the window as Roman drives them out of the school parking lot, and down the street. They go straight for a while, before Roman turns down a certain street. The houses lining the sidewalk were giant, and looked incredibly old. 

Virgil’s eyes go wide. 

“The historical district?” Virgil exclaims, pressing his forehead against the window. “But… but the houses here are super expensive! Do you really live here?” 

Roman nods, and slows his car as he turns and drives up a nice paved driveway, leaving Virgil to stare at the large house they’re pulling up to. It’s white with many, many windows, and a faded blue roof. Large pillars act as support, and a giant yard is freshly trimmed, with marble decorations. Flowers grow along the driveway and the path to the front door. 

Roman parks the car on the driveway, behind two black cars parked side by side. He pulls a key out of his pocket and walks Virgil to the front door, before unlocking it. He shuts the door behind them, and then interlocks his arm with Virgil’s. 

“Dad, Papa, I’m home!” Roman then calls, giving Virgil’s arm an assuring squeeze. “And I brought somebody you might want to meet!”

[shivroyisbisexual]

one of those things that I find pathetic are those succession fans who make videos and comments on videos where they GENUINELY root for the man with the most “top dog” vibes and have a whole running hierarchy in their minds about it.

It’s one thing to analyze the show for that — I definitely do, and the characters within the show definitely are keeping score within their different information-limited perspectives. It’s important, a key part of the culture and what makes the characters tic as people.

It’s another thing to really buy in and huff top dog farts about it.

Here’s my list of red flags for boring dude bro succ commenter (woman inclusive term though it’s usually men)

In honor of it being a show about rich fucks I’m using the little golf red flag emoji

⛳️ promotes and defends Logan’s politics and behavior as great and true right down to repeating his lines on being totally self made, knowing how people “really are”, how everyone is out to get him for no reason, he’s a strong family man, he should be in charge because he’s strong enough to tell it like it is blah blah

⛳️ that fucking “hard times make hard men who make good times that make soft men that leads to hard times” crap or however it goes — they really believe in this shit

⛳️ Logan’s word is gospel, to the point of quoting his views line for line as THE literal truth summary of a situation or character

⛳️ The above is taken as true especially about himself and his kids, but this goes triple for anything he says about Shiv. If he says Roman has no fucking acumen that’s taken to be probably mostly true, but Roman is seen as able to rise up and prove him wrong. If he says Kendall is not a killer, that’s probably mostly true, but Ken is seen as able to “rise up” and prove him wrong. If he says Shiv has no real experience and isn’t as smart as she thinks she is, not only is that unquestionably true but she can never rise above it AND she’s not just not as smart as she thinks she is she’s downright stupid. The worst. Definitely married Tom 100% because she’s a coward and that’s alllllll there is to it because notorious family man Logan is an oracle. Perfect font of wisdom. Interestingly this is also how the wrapped around Logan’s finger grown up abused kids act when stressed — they throw Logan’s take downs of each other in each other’s faces as unquestionable truths

⛳️ has little or nothing to say about Connor other than memeing him or calling him likable because he’s not in the fight for succession really and he’s too on the nose a parody of “anarcho capitalists”/“libertarian” crank leaders whose 1%er (in more than 1 sense) runs for high office these boring dude bros have likely donated to and hyped before

⛳️ succeeding Logan is consistently viewed as an unqualified “win”, as is becoming “a killer” like Logan even if a few flourishes toward how evil he is are made, or how they would be better off cashing out. Commenter still reverts to succession = winning. Adopting Logan’s personality = winning. Except for Shiv mostly, she’s just a cold two faced b*tch especially if she acts more like Logan to Tom.

⛳️ former game of thrones viewer who’s main interest was Who Would Win (tm) mostly adjudicated based on who was confident and powerful with snappy lines or bold moves that day and probably was a dude or could be said to owe her shit to a dude or they predicted she’d win but would be horrible as a ruler and wouldn’t “deserve it”

⛳️ even if they hide it you can tell the vibe is they do think any sign a character is gay or bi is a mark against them like they’re definitely laughing at it in a “haha eww” (mentally deducts points) kinda way

⛳️ super basic conventional dude bro views on the wives, girlfriends and escorts being gold diggers, with 0 introspection on the dynamics of that when true being the fault of the rich man leveraging being rich and choosing it also, not being some poor baby getting taken for a ride by a master manipulator, and 0 interest in the complicated cases where yes the money is the main part of it but also there’s real relationships there in some cases too, or the heartfelt delusions of them at least

⛳️ tends to not remember the names of characters like Sophie, Iverson, Rava, Jess and just call them Kendall’s kids, Kendall’s ex wife, Kendall’s assistant lady

⛳️ hard to quantify or prove but they say the SAME thing like at first you think it’s the same dude but no it’s like 100+ different yt commenters saying the same thing word for word on different succession clip vids. Part of this is for sure yt commenter culture where people get into saying whatever broadly appealing thing gets likes or upvotes or whatever they’re calling it there, similar to reddit

⛳️ switches their views on the likelihood of a character to “win” on a dime with the whole dude bro commenter crowd moving as one, and not really seeming to take time to analyze why they were mislead (if they were) before. Like if they now think something else, they were wrong before, and that raises how and why. Here I’m thinking of the group that was totally all up in arms about Machiavellian Greg now hyping Kendall the Killer After-all. With no introspection on why they were SO easily convinced this other guy was going to get it (more or less because it would be a funny narrative if he did and they saw themselves in him and his “perchance” shit). They just really have a gut reaction to narrative beats that Feel Snappy and either clever or dominant, and therefore significant. But they have to rationalize and act like it’s more than it is.

🪂 Special shout out to a different set of succession commenters who annoy me: those think piece writers who claimed Greg and Tom had more “humanity” for sounding like stilted try hards and brought in academics to try and push that.