#been having a rough week but drawing them always makes me feel happy

[jowoeyclaire]

riding somewhere

[thegnomelord]

I REALLY LOVE THE STRAIGHTFOWARD WEREWOLVES SOAP. OMG. Its just really funny in my head, imagine the way soap would act so shameless around the reader, uncaring about the stare he got because thats just how they are! The werewolves race with their no-shit and unfiltered attitude, and oh if they take interest in you, prepare your heart especially if you has a weak one; because surely they'll cling their every waking moment with you, sniffing every spots of you that they can reach. Absurd yet endearing flirtiratios compliments would hurled at you, catching you off guard cause they just come out of nowhere. Baring their fangs at potential rivals, worst case scenario if its their own race, because they can and will get violent, best calmed the werewolves down before anything awful happened. Just a thing between werewolves to prove which one is the stronger and more qualified, whose more worthy of your love, in their point of view.

If you have the time can you make a short fic, it would be the highlight of my life for weeks!!

Okay yes but also because I love needy clingy pathetic Soap too much lol

CW: NSFW, gn reader, grinding, somnophillia, quick and rough.

You've noticed that Soap has started to act. . . strange.

He's started trying to feed you all types of stuff, mostly meat, seeking you out at all times of the day. You'll see him go out to the woods and come back with some large animal, and an hour later he'll be coming to you with a plate of food and a 'Kiss the cook' apron on (every time you have to bite back from drawing attention to the fact the arrows point down to his dick). "Hey, need that wonderful mouth of yer's to try this out." He says, watching with rapt attention as you try his food, taking every critique with a wagging tail.

And if you like his food, oh, there's a giant grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, ye like that?" He comes closer, the plate in your hands forcing distance between you two. "Reckon this cook should get a reward." He's already stepping around to press his chest flush with your back before he can finish his sentence, and you don't have the heart to stop him because the food is mouth watering and he's just scenting you, even if the occasional flick of his tongue against your nape makes you shiver. (You, again, try not to draw attention to a hard bulge grinding into your ass)

That's the other thing. He's gotten really clingy.

He's always been clingy with all the team members, nuzzling his cheek against Gaz, whining like a kicked puppy when pushes him away with a hand on his face, tail wagging as he scents Price. Usually he's satisfied after he's done scenting the lads in your team, happy to continue with his business.

But with you. . .

You can't even sit on the couch for five seconds before his burly body is snuggling up to you, taking his seat in your lap like he owns it, like he's a lap dog. Doesn't even excuse himself before his hands are groping your biceps as he nuzzles your neck. "Aye, yer so hoht," He purrs, full body rubbing against you. "Could use ye fer a blanket on cold nights." You don't know how to feel about that, his words causing your mind to stutter long enough for him to replace the scents lingering on you with his own.

And when someone enters to find you like this, he doesn't even throw them a glance, gripping onto you like a koala and all you can do is mouth a 'help me'. Doesn't work though, as the second he senses someone is getting near he's growling like a monster truck's engine, glaring at the poor sod with his face still stuck in your neck.

Or, if you're busy with something, he'll saddle up to you, ears perked up. "Oi, bonnie, hold som'ting fer me." He'll whine, tugging on your arm until you sigh.

"Fine, just give it here." You growl, holding out your arm, still concentrated on what you're doing.

Next thing you know you're cupping his jaw, his head resting on your hand. "Anyone ever tell ye, yer got perfect hands te grope with?" Johnny grins at you, that one snaggletooth fang pinching his lip, using your confusion to rub the scent glands in his cheeks against your palm, making sure you smell like him.

You shake out of your stupor and pull your hand back, resisting giving in when he gives you such a heartbroken whine. "No, Johnny." You growl and shoo him away, but he still manages to brush his tail against your leg.

You make the mistake to fall asleep on the communal couch after a grueling day of training recruits. When Johnny finds you, his nose immediately trying to get a whiff of your scent, he growls when he can barely get traces of it beneath the smell of dirt and sweat and way too many people when the only scent you should have on you is his. His inner wolf growls along with him, his ears pricking up straight, staring at your sleeping form.

He's more than happy to rectify your mistake.

He lays on top of you, purring happily to himself when you don't even shift. "Good mate," He hums to himself, wrapping around you like a blanket, face buried in your neck once again. His hands slide beneath your shirt, making him pant into your skin from the sensation of your muscles beneath his hands. He moves his body slowly, seeking to have as much skin contact as he can, mouth watering and angel bells ringing in his skull at how he can taste his scent replacing everyone else's on your skin.

He doesn't notice when he starts to nibble on your neck, but it's the sensible next move, what better way to keep competition away than let everyone know you're taken? Johnny's marks bloom across your throat as he sucks hickeys into your skin, his wolf and himself standing on common ground to make sure you're covered in his marks.

He pulls back his head to look at his work and groans, cock immediately hardening in his pants from you covered in his marks. His hips gain a life of their own, thighs gripping your own as he grinds down, already half drunk on your scent.

You wake up to find his hot breath fanning over your face, the sensation of something hard grinding against your leg dissipating any residual drowsiness. "Johnny, what the fuck?" You ask, voice rough from sleep, only now registering his weight on top of you.

"'m sorry bonnie," Johnny whines, burying his face into your neck to muffle his whining. "Just- hah- needed ye."

You grumble, but you can't hide the way heat burns through your veins at the sight of him, his face flushed, claws gripping you like you'll disappear, desperately humping against your leg.

"I can see that." You say, tensing your thigh to give aid him in his grinding, your eyes growing wide at the loud moan that escapes him, like he's a whore on camera.

"Oh, shite, thank ye, thank ye, thank ye-" He whines, his humping growing faster, butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the way you hadn't pushed him away, that you're accepting his advances, muttering 'mate' under his breath as he chases after his orgasm.

He cums before either one of you knows it, a dark stain forming in his pants as he bites down and groans into your neck. You grunt, but Soap's quick to release your skin and lap at the aching spots with his tongue, soothing the pain.

"'m sorry bonnie." He mumbles, cock still hard in his pants, his wolfish eyes settling on you. Shame nibbles on his stomach for cumming so fast when he can't smell a lot of arousal on you, his wolf growling at him to show you how good he can be.

You jump when his hand slides down to grip your crotch roughly, his pupils dilating at the way a small moan slips past your lips. "Lemme make it up fer ye yeah?"

[greenishghostey]

It's Fantasy, babe

Pairing: Eddie Muson x fem!reader

Summary: You decide to indulge in a fun fantasy with your boyfriend: Eddie, sneaking into your room and cumming inside you.

Warnings: This fic contains graphic 18+ content. Please do not engage with you are underage! Unprotected sex, penetrative sex, rough but with lots of love, established relationship, fingering, fluffy smut, Eddie cannot shut up ever, enthusiastic consent, Eddie just trying rock your world as best he can

A/N: This is the first smut I've ever written and I promise I tried my best. The idea had been rolling around in my head for a while so I bit the bullet and just tried it. DO NOT REPOST OR EDIT MY WORK

///

The discussion between you and Eddie had been a long time coming. You’d found a particularly filthy romance novel about a princess and her noble knight. They’d shared a night together rolling around in her royal quarters, and he came in her until she was dripping, full and shaking. He had snuck into her rooms after the castle fell asleep, embraced her in her soft, flowing nightgown and showed her heaven and hell simultaneously.

You wanted that too. You wanted to be the princess. You wanted Eddie to push your legs back, knees to your ears and fuck his cum into your cunt as many times as he wanted to - possibly even making love to you at the same time. You weren’t going to be too picky. You wanted your soft pastel blue bedsheets to be stained and sticky under your ass as he. Just. Kept. Going.

Eddie had jumped at your request for him to sneak in on Friday night after your parents fell asleep. They’d had busy weeks at work. They wouldn’t be stirring until at least 10 am the next morning.

And that was how you found yourself under the gorgeous weight of Eddie’s naked form. He was smiling down with immeasurable happiness. He was so warm and solid and beautiful. Dreamy was the word that came to your mind. So dreamy, so pretty, and all yours.

His thick, calloused fingers were deep in your soaked cunt, massaging and stretching your puffy walls. Eddie always did this thing with his middle and ring finger, crooking them up to push you to the edge of orgasm and keep you there for a while. You said he only did it to show off his guitarist fingering skills; he said he did it because he just loved you that much.

“Gotta get you ready for me, princess. You wanted a long night, and you’re gonna get it.” He teased before licking a long, fat stripe up the column of your neck. “God, babe, I’m gonna slip right in. She missed meeee.” Eddie chuckled as you gripped his fingers and wiggled your hips. He had to appreciate that his being a little goofy during sex still got you squirming. 

“Eddie,” you whined, groping your tits and gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes, “Hurry. Up.” You moved to knot your fingers in his shaggy hair, now grinding desperately on his fingers - one of his rings bumping against your clit and fuck. You came with a muffled moan, Eddie having quickly silenced you in a deep kiss. He made sure that his tongue tasted every pretty noise you were making for him.

Eddie’s chest heaved as he pulled away. Like it was agony.

He ran the head of his swollen cock up and down your hole, pressing the tip in ever so slightly to have you claw at his forearms. You were going to draw blood from the bats, but, shit, it felt phenomenal. Nothing got his blood running hotter than seeing his lady all desperate. Craving, yearning, maybe even a little feral, much like himself.

“My girl wants it so bad, huh? My dick, my cum, me. Fuuuck, I love you.” He groaned, continuing to push his angry tip in and out of your cunt. He liked the tease of sex with you. The raw feeling of pushing both of you to the point of nearly mauling each other.

“Ed - Eddie, come on, please. I need you. I’ll ask so nicely if you want. Just-“ your pleas and begging were cut short by the glorious stretch of Eddie’s cock as he seated himself fully inside. It usually took some time for him to get in fully, but he was right; he slid right into the hot, sticky bliss. Your head slammed back into your fluffy pillows, and you had to bite your hand to contain the urge to scream. After two years of being together, he was still just so big. Fucking perfect, but still big. It would be best if you guys had done this at his place. Sure, the entire trailer park would find out that the Munson boy was getting his dick wet, but you would be able to be loud. However, the fantasy required your soft double bed and floral bedspread - your “chambers” that he would sneak into. 

The pace that was set immediately was brutal, like animals, like in the book. Yes, God, yes. It was all skin slapping skin and the obscene squelch of fucking without any barriers. Eddie leant down to press his forehead to yours so he could pant, whine and grunt into your mouth. He was so considerate when he was at your place and knew you guys had be quiet - well, quieter.

“You’re so so tight, baby. Is this what you wanted?” he whispered, hot breath fanning across your burning cheeks, “raw and fucking filthy in your nice, cosy bedroom, yeah?” He laughed breathily and moulded his full lips to yours. The slam of his hips never faltered as he grabbed and rubbed your waist - still maintaining a level of tenderness while splitting you open on his cock. He was chasing his orgasm with more desperation than usual. You made it clear that you would need to be leaking and creamy to fulfil this fun little fantasy, and who was he to deny the princess her requests? You’d been so damn polite when asking him for this too. 

“You said you wouldn’t laugh, Eds,” you murmured, pulling away from the searing kiss by literal millimetres. Legs wrapping around him and feet digging into his ass, he wasn’t going as deep as he could, and that needed to be changed. You could feel yourself gushing with every hard thrust, dangling on the precipice of cumming.

“Would never laugh at you. I’m having the time of my goddamn life here.” He sighed, a wide beaming smile spreading across his sweat-covered face. He was glowing under the light of your bedside lamp. Wow. Eddie’s big hands moved from your waist to the backs of your thighs. Yes, yes, yes, he hiked your legs up and back until you were folded in half. If you wanted deeper, then he was going to go as deep as physically possible. Eddie needed you to feel him in your fucking stomach.

Never in your life had you been so thankful for getting rid of your old spring mattress. Because the force behind Eddie’s thrusting was insane. He prided himself on having impressive stamina that only seemed to come out when he was inside you - quite frankly, Eddie never wanted to leave your cunt. That was especially the case now, with your toes accidentally tangling in his hair. “Oops, sorry,” you muttered, breaking away from your sex-induced haze to angle your feet differently. It would have been awkward, but this was with Eddie. Awkward was never even part of the conversation.

“You could kick me in the head right now, and I’d say thanks, don’t worry.” Eddie giggled, running a thumb over your sweaty cheek. He shifted slightly to get more comfortable for what he had planned - it might be a little risky, but it would be worth it. You reached up to fix the hair you’d messed up with your feet and giggled, but Eddie’s face showed that he was deep in thought about something. Before you could ask if anything was wrong, he spoke, “What’s on the other side of that wall?” He nodded his head towards the wall behind your metal-barred headboard.

“Linen closet, why?” you asked, the gears in your head turning quickly and figuring out his plan. He was calculating risk; you were so proud of him.

“And how far away is your parents' room?” 

“Other end of the hall.” Your breathing had moved onto panting now. The headboard had already started to knock against the wall a little, but Eddie was about to make it a whole lot worse. 

“Perfect. Hold these pretty legs back for me, please?” He was grinning like a horny maniac. You did as he asked almost a bit too quickly, holding your legs back and as wide as you could get them in your current position. “Atta girl. First load’s gotta be an extra special experience, right?” One of Eddie’s hands got a strong grip on your headboard while the other moved to flick and massage your clit in tight little circles. You whined at the contact, knowing that your fantasy was about to reach the first of several climaxes.

Eddie started up his almost punishing pace again. But this time, he had more leverage to force his cock into you and mould your walls to the shape of him. The squelch of fucking was somehow even louder than before. Now mixed with the sloppy sound of Eddie playing with your clit and grunting like an animal in heat. You weren’t much better with your whining and mewling. Reaching up to hold his ecstasy-coloured face as best you could.

“Aw, she’s all sensitive and weepy for me, isn’t she, babe?” Eddie groaned straight into your ear. Your legs had started to shake from just how deep you could feel his cock as it pounded into your g-spot. The reply he got from you was a sniffled nod and your big wet eyes staring up into his. “You wanna beg for it? I think you wanna beg for me to fill you up.” Fuck, he was so right. You hated when he was right.

“I-I need you to cum, Eds. I wanna feel it so fucking bad,” you hiccuped; it felt like you were on the verge of crying from how deliciously overwhelmed you were. “I’ve been good.” Eddie’s gaze snapped down to meet yours, and the look on his face was beautiful. His big eyes widened, and his jaw was slack as he whined at your comment. You had been such a good girl for him. You always were.

That did it. Eddie slammed into you with a few more, and his rhythm was pretty much gone by that point. When he came, he silenced his guttural wail by biting down on your shoulder hard. Normally, you would have scolded him for leaving a mark, but right now? It made the whole experience so much better as you came with him. 

The two of you stayed together, panting, for a while after that. Eddie didn’t want to pull out of you until he absolutely had to, and you relished in feeling his sweaty weight press you into the mattress. The intimacy for the moment was your favourite. For all that Eddie tried to make the world believe that he was mean and scary, he was far from it. He was practically purring as you ran your fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp - a big dorky smile on his face and everything. 

Eddie untangled himself from your body and sat up, scraping his hair out of his hair and fanning himself. The demon head on his chest was staring at you like it was proud. Bastard. Before you could form words to ask if Eddie needed water or anything, he flipped you over onto your stomach and pulled your ass up, back arching all pretty how he liked it. He stared at his cum oozing from your cunt in fascination. Yeah, you guys were going to be doing this again.

“Good for round two, sweetheart?” Eddie chirped, giving your ass a sharp smack. You whimpered and nodded - words wouldn’t be possible for the rest of the night; you could feel it in the throb of your clit. 

[lethalchiralium]

a domestic happiness ask because the amount of times i’ve read missus dying is offensive !!

completely domestic it hurts tbh

it’s the morning, simon just arrived back home the night before and the babies don’t know

missus and simon have some fluff in the kitchen - making tea, listening heart 70s radio (some swaying to the radio?🙏🏻), reading books in comfortable silence, best banter known to man

maybe winnie comes down and sees simon but has to be quiet to not wake her siblings😭 and then the 3 go and wake up mellie & baby together

just cuteness overload

#happinessislifefr

ugh this makes me so happy

happiness au! (again not decided on the sex of the baby yet)

The cigarette on his lips felt heavy as he sat on the front porch of his home. Knowing you were inside, asleep in your large bed, it made Ghost feel comforted. The family he’s protecting is quiet, eyes fluttering as they sleep and are oblivious to his return - yet he hasn’t stepped through the front door.

One last cigarette and he could go inside, peel off the mask and hold you until his little hellions woke up.

He stubbed the filter into the concrete before picking it up, shoving it in his pocket to throw away later and taking out the singular silver house key beside the keys to his truck. He opened his front door, noting the house was quiet - yet he still heard footsteps in the kitchen. He toed off his boots, closing the door and locking it behind him before he pulled off his coat, then shoved it into the closet so you didn’t smell the cigarette smoke on it.

He could hear something being poured, shuffling around in the kitchen - he knew the sound of your footsteps well enough to know it was you.

You knew the sound of his coat and the heaviness of his footsteps, so you weren’t scared out of your skin when your husband kissed your cheek - your cold hands pouring hot tea into his favorite cup. You didn’t mean to wake up this early, Nathan having kept you up a few hours longer than you intended. You placed the pot down, turning your head to look up at your husband - only to be met by the porcelain colored skull plate.

“Bad?” You whispered, the first word you had spoken that morning. It wasn’t often that he came in with the mask, Simon never liked you interacting with his protective shell, Ghost.

He didn’t move his head, his body stayed still yet his eyes flickered down. You frowned, your hand coming to settle on where his cheekbone was - your palm touching the dirt dusted plastic of his mask. You didn’t need to ask him what happened, he wouldn’t utter a word. You may have not been married for more than two years but that doesn’t excuse the way you knew him. Like he was sculpted from the same block of clay, the way soulmates are always intertwined.

Your fingernails tapped against the plastic, his cold brown eyes flickered to meet yours. You turned fully, the thin t-shirt you wore pressed against his taut stomach and rough belt. His large hand settled on your hip, gloved fingertips begging to feel your warm skin as he felt as cold as ice.

“The boy?”

“Givin’ me Hell in Riley fashion.”

He hummed a little chuckle, his free hand coming to rest right on your chest - right above your heart. His index and middle fingers pressed a little into your skin, trying to feel your heart through his glove.

“He’ll be happy to see you.”

“He’s only six weeks old.”

“He knows who his dad is.”

Simon wasn’t prepared for a son before, but now that he had held Nathan, he knew that he was more than ready. How did he know? Because as soon as he looked in the face of a little Simon Riley, he only felt love. He didn’t feel the despair he thought he would.

“The girls have missed you so much.”

“It’s been two weeks.”

“A long time for them to go without you, honey.” You watched his eyes as they memorized your face, a sleepy smirk tugged at your lips. “Mellie’s been trying to draw you pictures, she’s playing more and more.”

“That’s good.”

“She’s not trying to hide Winnie as often. Or me. Or Missy.”

“She’s too little to be having problems.”

You knew the look in his eye was clear self-deprecation - he thought his daughter having anxiety was exclusively his fault. “Honey.” Your fingertips grazed across the bottom of his mask, the hand on your chest moved to yours as a warning. You understood, keeping your hands on his chest with your nails scratching the old balaclava. “I know you think it’s your fault, but it isn’t. I’ve talked with the doctor, her herding and hiding her family makes her feel safe.”

“She doesn’t feel safe because I’m not here.”

“Simon-“

There was a creak from the staircase, Ghost’s head whipped up to gaze at the doorway - you looked too, only to see your seven year old as she creeped into the kitchen. Her eyes lit up as she saw her father, her arms instantly out as tears burst from her eyes. He let go of you instantly, striding over to scoop his daughter into his arms.

He desperately needed to smell that lavender shampoo you always used, needed to feel her curls against his face - his body was too hot, his face felt like it was on fire and he needed his mask off. All he could smell was the ichor of the battlefield, all he could taste was the metal in his blood.

“Mum was gonna help me get my mask off. Can you help me?”

The girl in orange pajamas nodded a little, a yawn came from her lips as her little hands ungraciously grabbed the top of his mask - including some hair underneath - and pulled. Without a wince, Simon let his oldest child tear off his mask, revealing the black paint around his deep brown eyes. His Winter Grace smiled, hands settled on his cheeks as she whispered, “Good morning, Daddy.”

Your hand settled on his lower back, he didn’t flinch like he would have with his skull plate over his face - his breathing slowed as he pressed his lips to Winnie’s curly hair. “Hello, my little love.”

Your hand gently squeezed your daughter’s foot, she slightly squealed as you whispered, “What are you doing up, baby?”

“Didn’t sleep good.”

“Didn’t sleep good?” Simon’s voice became as light as a feather, his hand cradling her head as he whispered, “I’m sorry. Do you want Mummy to tuck you back in?”

She shook her head, her warm hands tapping a little melody into his skin. “No. Wanna go to bed with you and Mummy.”

You gently shook her leg, your head resting on Simon’s shoulder. “Don’t forget that baby Nathan’s in Mommy’s room, you have to be extra quiet.”

She nodded before she wrapped her arms around Simon’s neck, her round face gazing at you with a smile before she whispered, “Daddy’s home.”

“I know, my love.” You whispered back, seeing Simon’s smile grow in your peripheral vision. “Do you think Melsie and Nate are gonna be happy too?” She nodded vigorously, you gently laughed before you kissed her nose. You looked up to your husband, your smile wide. “Let’s go.”

Simon’s mug of tea grew cold as you spent the early hours of the morning cuddling your children beside your husband.

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[alittlefanatic]

hello! would it be alright to request something for a reader who really looks up to howdt as a sort of father figure?

idk man, i collect fictional parental figures like pokemon, welcome home happens to be my latest obsession, and YOU happen to be my favorite fan writer for said obsession, so i figured id ask- no pressure though! college is rough, and i want you to take care of yourself!

I'm going to cry qwq THANK YOU SO MUCH! That means the world to me that I'm your favorite! I never thought that I'd be someone's favorite writer awawawaw.

🐛 Howdy Father Figure Headcanons! 🐛

Child Version

🐛 Howdy LOVES to hold you and pick you up! You are just so tiny and small!

🐛 He would love to give you head pats and even ruffle your hair! (If you are ok with it of course)

🐛 Got a boo boo? He will be right there by your side like a frantic parent! "Are you hurt? I have cute little butterfly bandages! Let's get you cleaned up!"

🐛 He will hang all of your crayon drawings throughout his Bugdega! He wants to show off how creative and how proud he is of you!

🐛 If you knock over a stand at his Bugdega: "It's alright bug! Are you hurt? No? Ok good.. mistakes happen, don't be upset! What do we do when we make a mistake? We clean it up! See? It's better! Mistakes make us feel bad but they don't define us!"

Teenage Version

🐛 He would have you work in his store! "It helps build character and understand responsibility better!"

🐛 With that being said though, he also helps you define your boundaries!

🐛 "You don't want to work on Saturdays and Sundays? Do you need the day off to rest and work on things? That's ok! Thank you for telling me! Let's work things out if we need to~"

🐛 If you are wanting to sell anything, he will help you put up a little stand in his store! He's your biggest supporter and will personally send out your work to other neighbors to get them interested to buy!

🐛 This man has absolutely no idea how to drive a car (mainly because he cannot fit in many, nonetheless drive) but he will try and guide you nonetheless! That is until he gets one of the other neighbors to help. He would get you a little 'beetle' car purely for the name.

Adult Version

🐛 He would absolutely cry at the thought of you moving out but he would help you 'spread your wings' if you did want to move, or at least have a place of your own nearby!

🐛 "My little bug is all grown up! I can't believe how fast it flew by...I'm so proud of you! Know you can always come back to your ol' pops ok? I may be getting older but I still have all these arms to hug you!"

🐛 He would let you take over the Bugdega if you wanted it! He would feel like you would do a phenomenal job.

🐛 If you don't though, he will be your number one supporter and will send you baked goods in the morning for your work as a courtesy gift!

🐛 If you move away, he would send you letters every week updating you about what's going on in the neighborhood and how he misses you and loves you, and that he's proud of you every day!

🐛 He is a very sentimental man, keeping every letter you write to him, or anything you've ever given him. Don't you ever think it wasn't appreciated, because he has a little area in his room dedicated to things from you.

I felt so bad that I haven't been able to write, I got a few more personal things to do then I'm completely free so expect more soon I promise! I'm so happy to finally be able to write more content for this fandom soon it brings me joy Be sure to get some water and a snack neighbor! Howdy would like you to take care of yourself 🐛

[yesimwriting]

Final Girl (Part 3)

- Final Girl Series Masterlist (updated part 1 - 9 and extras) 

A/n yall have been so kind!! all of the messages, likes, comments, and reblogs for this series have made me so happy! this chapter is a little bit of filler bc my original idea for this part was way too long especially with how busy this week is supposed to be, so i sort of split it!! 

also if this has pacing issues, i’m sorry, i had a panic attack yesterday and a really bad migraine today so it’s been kinda rough lately but i wanted to get this out!! Part 4 is going to have a little more going on :)

if this is messy pls don’t give up on me 😭 i promise the next part will have more going on i just didn’t want to leave y’all waiting forever and we needed a bit of a filler

also if anyone wants to leave me an ask about this series pls do:) i’ve had so much fun talking about Final Girl

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at  Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s. 

Chapter Summary: Y/n’s first day back after the incident. 

----

My reflection has never bothered me more. I know vanity is such a stupid thing to worry about now after what happened to Casey, but I can’t help the way I scrutinize my appearance. 

The attention drawing cotton-y bandaid that was placed on the gash on the side of my temple has been (thankfully) downgraded to a regular bandaid. That’s fine--I can accept that. What I can’t accept are the stupid cuts caused by all of that glass.

After being released from the hospital, it took no time for me to learn that it’s going to be awhile before I can comfortably wear pants again. My arms are a little less cut up, so the white, long sleeved shirt I picked out covers my injuries without irritating them. I tried on a pair of leggings and I barely got them to my thighs without wincing.

So now I’m wearing the most comfortable skirt I own. Normally, I wouldn’t even think twice about it, I wear this skirt so often, but it barely covers any of the cuts on the back of my legs. God...people are going to think I’m doing this for attention, especially since media outlets keep calling my house. 

Ugh--this is as good as it’s going to get for my first day back. I pick my backpack up from my bed. My eyelids feel so heavy I have to fight the urge to collapse back into bed. 

The walk downstairs is painfully slow. Once I’m finally in the hall that leads to the kitchen, I stop. A vague confusion clouds my thoughts. Was I going to the kitchen? What did I want from the kitchen?

“Mornin’, kiddo.” I blink at the sound of Wells’ voice. At least it’s offering me a sense of a direction. 

Stepping fully in the kitchen, I greet back, “Good morning.” 

He eyes me for a long second, piercing blue irises lingering in a way that makes me feel uneasy in my own skin. “Skirt’s a little grown, ain’t it?” When my only reaction is to furrow my eyebrows, he continues, “What happened to those little girl dresses you used to wear? I liked those.” 

I grab the strap of my backpack, shifting slightly. I stopped wearing those dresses after he had been dating my mom for a few months. “Outgrew them, I guess.” 

Wells nods once, the motion gruff as he moves to grab his mug. He lets out a curt, gruff noise. 

“Oh, Wells.” Like always, my mom’s voice chases away all the tension. “Don’t you know better than telling a girl what to wear? Especially a teenager. Now ease up, 16-year-old me would make Y/n look like a saint.” With that, my mom finally looks at me. “You look pretty, like always, I especially like your top.” It takes me a second to realize that my mom’s referencing the fact that I stole this shirt from her closet. I let out a soft, slow laugh. “You okay?” 

I nod drastically. “Yep, just want to get the first day back over with.” 

“I can’t believe you only took one day off. When I was your age, I’d have taken half a week off for less.” 

“It’s going to be bad no matter when I go back. My name’s been all over the news.” I release the strap of my backpack, scratching the back of my wrist. “Plus it’s junior year and that one day off already has me drowning in makeup work. I can’t afford to fall behind. Junior year is the year colleges look at most. This year could make or break whether or not I get into Princeton.” 

My mom holds her hands up in defense. “Yes, I know, you ranted to me about it yesterday. Just promise me you’ll listen to your body. I don’t love that you haven’t had your follow up appointment yet to confirm whether or not you have a concussion.” 

“Mom, I’m fine, promise. I’ll let you know if I start to feel weird.” 

She watches me for a long second, likely attempting to scan me the way an MRI machine would. “Fine, you need a ride or--” 

“Actually, a friend’s picking me up.” 

At that my mom tilts her head in a way that’s so knowing I feel the urge to confess even though I’ve done nothing. “A friend as in one of those two boys that spent all weekend calling and checking in on you?” 

My mom spent the last two days at my side. Normally it would have annoyed me, but it was actually nice. It reminded me of life before Wells. There was one downside, though. She saw how often Billy and Stu called. It wasn’t terrible and she probably would have picked up on it anyway, but it’s opened the ground to a lot of jokes and comments on her part.

“You’re the one who brought them into this. I would have never thought to call Billy while I was at the hospital.” That’s true. Even though we were friends before the incident, I wouldn’t have thought to call anyone except my mom. “And they’re just trying to be there for me like good friends.” 

At that, my mom leans against the kitchen island. “Y’know when I was your age, I had a guy that just wanted to be a good friend and drove me to school. Now I have a daughter.” 

I roll my eyes, “Haha. Yes--I’m going to get pregnant in the less than 10-ish minutes we’re going to have before we need to get to class.” 

“It only took about 8 minutes to make you, and that includes me getting dressed and fixing my hair after. Just saying.” 

I make a point of fake gagging. “Bye mom, Wells.“

“What? I was joking!” 

I walk towards the front door. A hand on my shoulder makes me nearly jump out of my skin. “Mom! You scared me.” 

She offers me a sheepish smile, “You know I’m kidding, right? They’re nice for caring.” 

“I know, mom.” 

With a sigh, she continues, “Just be sa--” 

“Oh my God, mom! I’m not having se--” 

“Easy, pumpkin,” she laughs off my outburst, “I mean in general. Don’t strain yourself and don’t feel like you need to push through. You want to go home early and I’ll pick you up.” 

I smile softly. “Yeah, I will.” 

With that, I open the front door. The sun is so bright I have to drop my head as I walk down the driveway. Wells’ house is objectively nicer than the house my mom and I lived in when we were still in Texas, but I still find myself missing the familiarity of our old front porch. 

Squinting, I look up and notice a car waiting next to the mailbox. How did I miss that? Rubbing my eyes with one hand, I approach the vehicle. 

I pull open the door to the backseat. Two sets of eyes turn towards me. “You know you guys didn’t have to wait for me.” I push my backpack into the car before sitting down. “You could’ve honked or something,” 

“We just got here,” Billy says easily, but I’m not sure I believe him. 

Stu turns in his seat to face me better as I shut the car door. “Plus we don’t mind giving you time to get all dolled up. Especially since today’s going to be a total bloodbath.” 

His wording leaves me more confused than upset. I draw my eyebrows together, shifting awkwardly. “What do you mean?” 

“Everyone’s gone crazy over what happened. I think more people were talking about you than Casey, and Casey’s the one that got gutted. It’s all over the news. They hung her from that tree in--” Billy moves his hand from the console in order to smack the side of Stu’s head. “Ow, man--what was that for?” 

“It’s not even 8 yet, at least let her wake up first before you traumatize her.” 

The thought of Casey makes my stomach twist, but I’m not focused in on anything enough to really react. Tiredly, I pull my backpack onto my lap and squeeze it to my body. “It’s fine,” I’m not sure if I’m talking to them or myself. 

Stu and Billy exchange a look that I barely register before resting my chin on my bag. “Are you okay? You didn’t even do that cute, little glare thing you do when you want me to shut up.” 

“I’m fine,” I answer a little too quickly, forcing myself to sit up some more, “A little tired.” Stu’s watching me a little too carefully and I catch Billy glancing at me through the rearview mirror. “Seriously?” Sighing, I shift in my seat, “First my mom and now you guys. I’m fine.”

My reaction is just a little too angry. Maybe if I felt a little more rested, I would have known better. Stu moves until he’s siting in the passenger seat normally. “Crying over the fact that you’re a total mommy’s girl.” 

Rolling my eyes and ignoring the way the motion irritates my migraine, I lean back in my seat. “Put on a seatbelt, asshole.” 

Even though that’s said with more bite and irritation than anything I’ve ever said to him, Stu laughs. It’s light and terribly offensive. I frown, looking over at Billy as heat crawls up my neck and towards my face. He’s just barely fighting down a grin. “It’s not that funny.” 

“No,” Stu sarcastically agrees, “That was so mean of you. I can’t remember the last time someone insulted me and tried to take care of me at the same time.” 

I cross my arms around my backpack. “Why did I agree to getting into a contained space with you two so early in the morning?” 

“Because you don’t have a license.” Billy looks way too smug as he turns the wheel as we move down a curb. 

I glare at him. “You extorted that information out of me while I was super out of it and half asleep.” 

“You said it yourself, it’s not like one of us asked.” 

He’s right and I hate it. I sink further into the seat, tempted to shut my eyes, but knowing that there’s no guarantee that I won’t fall asleep if I do. “Whatever.” 

Stu half laughs at that before starting to talk about a new scary movie that’s coming out. The plot sounds kind of basic, but I’m not one to judge until I see the movie. Normally, I’d be totally invested. I kind of like when Stu rambles about something he’s interested in, but now I’m struggling to hold my head up. 

I don’t register that we’re in the school parking lot until both Billy and Stu get out of the car. Once they’re both out, I shake my head once in an attempt to clear my thoughts. Get it together.

When I step out of the car, I make a point of keeping my eyes on the ground in front of me. Stu may exaggerate every once in awhile, but I don’t think he’s wrong about school. My mom has been fielding calls since the morning I was discharged from the hospital and last night while I was flipping through channels, I saw my face three times.

Before I can even think, a bright flash makes me flinch. The light is like a punch behind the eye thanks to my headache. That is followed by a series of other equally bright and irritating camera shutters. 

Shit. 

Billy steps towards me, dropping his voice so that only I can hear, “You know we don’t have to.” 

Taking a settling breath, I tilt my chin up a fraction of an inch. “It’s fine,” I say, hoping that I’ll convince myself, “Can’t hide forever.” 

We walk forward, me a few steps ahead of Billy and Stu. My fast pace is a sad attempt at ripping off the bandaid. 

“Excuse--Excuse me, miss!” I squeeze the strap of my backpack so tightly my knuckles must be white from the tension. “Miss Y/n L/n.” The woman that waves me down is holding a large microphone. She barely glances at me before turning her attention back to the camera man that followed her as she chased me. “Hi. Gale Weathers. I covered the last one of these.” 

I wince. “I’m sorry, when you say ‘the last one of these’ do you mean the last murder or--” 

“...And we’re rolling!” In nature, bright colors are meant to warn living things of poison. I think that logic could be applied to Gale Weathers and her auburn hair and blood red lips. “I’m Gale Weathers and I’m bringing you an exclusive with the lone survivor of what some are calling the worst murder in Woodsboro history.” She then turns towards me, “Now, Y/n, our viewers want to know exactly what you’re feeling.” 

Her microphone is way to close to my face. “Well, Gale, I’m glad you asked,” I’m speaking in the polite tone I used to reserve for rude customers when I worked in the mall last summer, “I’m feeling fan-freakin’-tastic!” 

The false enthusiasm jars her the way I hoped it would. She brings the microphone back to her. “Really?” 

“No, you vulture. Ambush interviewing is as tacky as that suit.” 

With that, I turn away and attempt to storm into school with an aura that scares away reporters. I’ve only ever seen that kind of confident magic come from my mom, but she’s half my genetic material, that means it must be in me somewhere, right?

Apparently wrong, because the cameras continue to flash. One man gets so close to me that his rapid photographing leaves me dizzy. 

“Okay,” an arm quickly wraps around my side, stabilizing me, “You got your pictures, now leave her alone.” The scent of Tatum’s perfume is comforting as she guides me the rest of the way inside. Once we’re inside, we’re granted the semblance of some privacy. “And I thought they were bad yesterday. Are you okay?” 

I nod, relaxing a little at her casual expression. Maybe if I try hard enough, I’ll be able to pretend that this is an average Tuesday. “I’m fine, I’m just tired, and I can’t believe how obsessed everyone is.” 

“Of course they’re obsessed.” For the first time ever, Randy’s voice is completely unwelcome. “You’re the sole survivor, the only witness to tell the story, the--for lack of better term--final girl.” 

Being in a friend group with so many people that are really into horror movies is all fun and games until they summarize the great trauma of your life in a movie trope. “Really? I never would have thought of it that way.” 

Sidney glares at Randy in defense of me. I appreciate it, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. “It’s too soon for those kinds of jokes.” 

My sarcasm was pure venom and Sidney’s reaction, though well intentioned, only made me feel sorry. Randy offers me a sheepish sort of look that immediately makes me feel bad for being so snippy. His comment wouldn’t have bothered me so much if it wasn’t for what just happened, and he wasn’t really trying to be mean. That actually might have been an attempt to lighten the mood, especially since he knows that the final girl storyline is one of my favorites. He’s always recommending movies that end like that. 

“Thanks, Sid, but I came on a little strong. I’m sorry, Randy, I’ve been a total nightmare all day. Just ask Billy and St--” I look around, a little surprised that they’re not right behind me. Aw, I lost them in all that commotion. “Weird--they were just behind me.” Shaking off the slightly lost feeling with the turn of my head, I move on, “Ask them later. The point is, I’ve been awful. It’s not your guys’ fault that this is my life right now.” 

Randy’s expression morphs from being almost hurt to something that’s even more of a punch in the gut. He seems sympathetic. “It’s okay, you’re holding it together way more than I would be. I don’t even know how you’re at school today.” 

“Yeah, how are you even here, Y/n?” Tatum echoes, her voice a little softer than before. 

It’s a good question. Now that I’m here all those points I made about school and grades and Princeton feel so far away. “It had to happen at some point, I might as well rip off the band aid. I just want everything to go back to normal.” I shift awkwardly, watching them watch me. “And the man that did this doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of my fear.” 

After a moment, Randy prompts, “...And?” 

“And what?” 

He half smiles. “Come on, Y/n, if you want this to feel normal, you’re going to have to give us the Princeton rant.” 

I roll my eyes before scoffing. “I do not talk about Princeton often enough for you to warrant naming it a specific rant.” 

Randy raises an eyebrow at my obvious lie. “You must have really hit your head hard.” 

“Rude.“ I turn towards Tatum, “Tate, you don’t think I’m like obsessed with Princeton.

She parts her lips as she debates the way she wants to respond. Before she can say anything, Stu walks up from behind me and pulls Tatum into a hug. He then gives her a soft kiss that feels linger-y. Wait--why am I noticing that? That’s...that’s weird of me. And why does this feel more uncomfortable than the time I caught them full on making out in the girl’s bathroom? Why is that tiny display of affection sitting in my chest in a way that makes it hard to look at them? 

More annoyed at my thoughts than the way Stu cups her face, I force my myself to stare at the locker in front of me. There are polaroids of people I don’t know tapped to the front of it.

Ugh--screw the guy that threw me into that wall. My head must be totally messing with me. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Billy’s sudden appearance surprises me more than it should. At this point, I should know that when I see one the other isn’t too far behind. He has an arm around Sidney’s shoulders, and she’s leaning into his touch just enough for it to be noticeable. Since when is Billy so into PDA? 

Oh my god, what’s wrong with me? Maybe my mom was right to think I have some kind of brain injury. My eyes snap back to the locker. “Nothing.”

“Y/n’s obsession with an Ivy League school in New Jersey.”

After a moment of silence, I realize that everyone’s waiting for me to speak. “Not an obsession.” My response lacks my usual level of conviction when talking about Princeton in any capacity. I can feel the fragile way they’re all looking at me. My eyes focus on the polaroids in front of me until everything else blurs into the background. 

The polaroids have my eyes watering and I don’t know why. They’re just stupid pictures of people I don’t know. Casey’s voice echoes in my head. It’s a punch in the gut.

Stu’s voice cuts through the static of my thoughts. “Y/n? Are you o--”

“I think I remembered something.” The admission is so low I’m surprised anyone hears it. “Randy, do you have a copy of the news article? Not the first one, the second one that lists everything found at the crime scene?” 

“Yeah,” Randy admits it like it’s an apology, “In my backpack.” 

“Can I see it?”

Everyone stays quiet at that. There’s an energy in the air that makes me feel as trapped as I did in the hospital. “Come on, guys, I don’t need to be babied. The pictures aren’t going to freak me out, I was kinda there for the real thing.” 

“At the hospital, didn’t you say you were unconscious for most of it?” Billy’s remark earns him a glare so harsh that he moves his hands to hold them up in defense before dropping them to his side. 

“Fine. Whatever. Don’t show me the newspaper, I’ll find my own copy, it’s everywhere. There’s a good chance some jag-off shoved one into my locker anyways.” Ugh--why is everyone so impossible? I turn on my heels, unsure if I’m fuming or ready to burst into tears.

I don’t even make it a full step before something locks around my upper forearm. My head snaps back as the hand’s sudden grip softens. “Come on, bug.” That leaves me hesitant. Stu called me that the day after we first met. Since then, the nickname has mainly been reserved to calm me down. I’ve asked him about it before, but he always refuses to explain it. “You’re just going to make yourself sick.” 

Biting the inside of my cheek, I frown. The group learned about my weak stomach early on in our friendship. My first night drinking with them ended with me throwing up in Stu’s bathroom. That wouldn’t have been so embarrassing if I was totally wasted, but I was objectively way too sober to get that sick.

There’s some underlying quality to his words. A quality that’s too knowing, too sure. He’s being more condescending than sweet. “I think I can manage.” I pull my arm away, ignoring the way his expression blanks. “I’m not a vase or a little kid, I don’t need you all treating me like I’m that unbelievably fragile.”

Stu angles his head to the side. I force myself to tilt my chin upwards in an attempt to stand my ground. I don’t fully get whatever face off we’re in, but I’ll be damned if I lose it this quickly. “Since you’re all grown up, Y/n, look at whatever you want, but don’t come crying to me about it.” 

I take a step forward, indignation leaving my spine straight. “When have I ever--” 

“You couldn’t even spend a few hours by yourself in a hospital.”

The unfairness of his statement forces a scoff from my lips. I take a step forward. “I didn’t ask for your help then and I’m not asking for it now.” 

“Stu.” Billy’s voice is level, bordering on neutral. 

At that, Stu exhales, but he doesn’t stop staring at me. “It’s fine, Billy.” 

“Yeah,” Stu echoes, shifting towards me, “Y/n’s fine, she doesn’t need anyone.” 

A sarcastic, half thought out reply rises up my chest and jams itself in my throat. I don’t think I’ve ever thought about how much taller than me Stu is. He’s looking down at me with an intensity that hits me straight in the stomach. Great, another feeling I don’t understand. “Whatever,” I mumble, “I need to get to class.” 

The bell rings a moment after I turn. I walk to homeroom, not thinking twice about it until I’m sitting in front of an empty desk. 

My face is hot, my head hurts, and Mrs. Ramirez’s announcements are drowned out by a ringing in my ears. When the bell rings, I can’t get out of the room fast enough. Normally, Stu’s around right after homeroom, ready to walk me to math. 

I don’t know what that weird argument was in the hallway, but I’m not ready to deal with it yet. So even though I’m gripping the straps of my backpack so tightly it hurts, I take the long way to class. There are no memories of Casey in AP Calc AB, so this time when I sit at my desk, I can breathe.

By the time I’m pulling out my notebook, the bell rings. Mr. Williams walks to the front of the classroom, “Alright, everyone in their seat. For today’s exam, you are permitted the use of a graphing calculator.”

Shit. The test. I forgot about the calc test. Mr. Williams begins to hand out the exam. When he gets to me, I stop him, “Mr. Williams, I-I was wondering if I could possibly take the exam on another day? After the events of this weekend, I--” 

“Ms. L/n, I made it clear to the entire class that I do not believe in scheduling a makeup exam the day of.” 

My fingers nervously scratch at the back of my wrist. “And I understand that, and normally I’d never ask, but if you’ve seen the news--” 

“Ms. L/n, do you want to take the test or would you rather me put a 0 in the grade book?” 

I could scream. I want to scream, but instead, all I do is nod, “Take the test.” 

And with that, he places the packet on my desk. The sound it makes feels like a death sentence. The next 50 minutes are a nightmare. I don’t remember how to do half the problems, and what I do remember, I can’t seem to do right. By the time the bell rings, I’m in full on panic mode. Mr. Williams collects the test and I leave the room like it’s on fire. 

The sharp pain in my head has never been this bad. I reach my locker, unlocking it to grab my bottle of ibuprofen. I take two Advil without any water. Today totally, unbelievably sucks. I need to splash some water in my face. 

The bathroom is thankfully empty. Pushing my backpack off of my shoulders and onto the counter, I turn on the sink. The water is cool against my fingers, and for the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe. My bandaid is sticking out to me too much so I force my gaze downwards. 

There’s a long abandoned copy of a newspaper on the counter. Its corners are so wet that the words at the start and end of the article are unreadable. The page it’s opened to has no photos. I’m sure if I flipped through it I’d find something listing everything the police found inside the house that night. 

Stu’s earlier claim echoes in my head as I pick up the newspaper. I’m not sure if I’m more motivated by spite or the desire to answer the question in my head, but I guess it doesn’t matter, because the end result is the same. I turn the page, skimming the article. The intro is so long that I still haven’t gotten to the murder, let alone what the police found after. I flip ahead until I find what I’m looking for.

I read the section about everything that was found twice. They mention everything down to the burned jiffy pop and the tube of lipgloss Casey left in the living room. The paragraph never mentions the polaroids from the kitchen.

He took pictures of me from the crime scene. 

Unease leaves my stomach in knots. The killer, who talked to me on the phone like we were best friends and chose to not kill me took photos of me. 

I turn the page frantically, desperate to see if the polaroids are mentioned there. Big mistake. Casey’s photo is staring at me, but she’s not her in it. She’s hanging from that big tree in her yard and her--her intestines... 

Cold sweat leaves my hands clammy. My body knows what’s happening before I do. A stall door gets thrown open just in time for me to throw myself onto my knees. Bile and whatever’s left of last night’s dinner burn as they come up my throat. I wretch. 

An unexpected but not unpleasant touch is pressed into my back as my hair is pushed out of my face. More bile leaves me. 

After a second passes and I don’t throw up a third time, I turn my head just enough to see who’s next to me. Billy. He doesn’t say anything at my recognition, he just moves his hand up and down my back gently. 

“...I found a newspaper.” 

“Yeah, I assumed after i heard the…”

He’s trailing off to be nice. I shift in order to sit cross legged on the floor. “Right. That’s fair.” 

His hand stalls against my back. “I didn’t mean it li--” 

“I know.” My voice is too small.

Billy moves his free hand. I don’t know what he’s doing until he’s pulling the paper away from me. I let him take the newspaper and place it somewhere on the other side of him. “Why’d you look?” 

“I--earlier, I was looking at this locker in front of us and it had polaroids taped to it, and-and that made me remember that on Saturday, Casey took a bunch of pictures of me. Polaroids.” I wipe at my face with the back of my palm. "The article’s super detailed, but it didn’t mention any pictures. I-I think that means that the person took them.”  

Billy’s eyebrows draw together. The corner of his mouth turns downwards. “You’re making yourself sick over this.” 

“Because it’s a big deal!” My reaction is harsher than it should be. He’s being nice to me after I blew up at everyone this morning and they were just trying to be good friends. And after this, I’m in no position to talk about what I am and am not able to handle. “It’s a big deal that I’m alive and Casey isn’t.” Taking a shaky breath, I continue, “And I should--I have to make it right somehow. Casey’s dead and I’m alive because it fit whatever plot he wanted to make. It was total chance, the killer probably flipped a coin while outside of her house to pick which one of us would live and which one would end up like...” I gesture vaguely in the direction of the newspaper, “That.” 

He’s quiet for so long I think he may not respond at all. His hand begins to move up and down my back again in the form of small circles. “Do you really think that?” 

Shrugging, I lean into his touch. “I mean, it’s probably either that or a stalker scenario.”

“You don’t have to figure it out. Just because you’re the one that survived doesn’t mean you need to put yourself through this. Especially now. It just happened, give yourself some time.” His voice is so assuring and oddly comforting I feel my eyes water. “What’s wrong?” 

Despite myself, I almost snort. “I think you know what’s wrong.” 

He gives me a semi bitchy look. “Something else happened, I can see it on your face.” 

Frowning, I let my gaze drop to the ground. “Am I that transparent?” 

Billy moves, the hand that’s not on my back coming beneath my chin. I let him tilt my head upwards until our eyes meet. “You have no idea.”

Warmth crawls up my face. He smiles. “Fine, I’ll tell you but it’s stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid.” 

I raise an eyebrow. “Well, I’ve had a really bad headache all day and then I get to first period and Mr. Williams starts talking about an exam. And that’s how I realized that I completely forgot about the calc unit test. I tried using the whole almost murdered excuse--I kinda hated myself for it, but it doesn’t matter, because he didn’t even go for it.” With a dramatic, deprecating sigh, I start to pick at a loose thread in my shoe lace. “Mr. Williams doesn’t believe in getting out of the test the day of. There’s no way I didn’t fail it, and it’s an AP class so that’s going to mess with my entire GPA.” 

He doesn’t comment on my teariness or the way that I almost sniffle, he just continues to softly rub my back. The gesture is starting to feel somewhat maternal, but it’s nice. “He made you take the test?” 

“Mr. Williams’ is a total asshole.” 

Billy’s mouth turns upwards, “He sounds like it.” I smile, leaning into his touch. “You should go back to the doctor.” He frowns when I move away from him. “Your head hurts, you’re moody--” 

“Am not.” 

“Right, because that stand off with Stu earlier was like you.” 

Right--that weird moment in the hallway. Great, Stu’s probably mad at me, and there’s no way that me going out of my way to not see him before math is something he’s going to take lightly. “He’s probably so mad at me.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Billy says, “He can’t stay mad at you.” 

I give him a look. “He’s petty.” 

Billy smiles after a second. “He’ll be petty about it, but he won’t actually be mad.” Before I can respond, Billy stands, “Come on, you need to go to a doctor.” 

After a second, I stand, taking his hand. “Fine.” 

----

Taglist: @cole22ann @i-amnotokaywiththis 

[bittersweetorpheus]

this idea has been boiling in my head for WEEKS I tell you WEEEEKSS so I thought I might as well just let it out:

what if you worked for the tsaritsa as just another fatui skirmisher or cicin mage and slowly climb the ranks until you manage to land a position as the personal assistant to the personal assistant to the harbingers! yay! a promotion! but also maybe not so yay since it’s highly likely you get killed in like the first week or so… but whatever, you’ll take what you can get.

they don’t pay much attention to you at first but they eventually warm up to you and even start seeking you out more as time goes on.

meanwhile, you, on the other hand, have started to notice this- how could you not when you could feel the captains gaze on you whenever youre bent down over paperwork and thinks you can’t see him or the way the balladeer always drags you away from whatever you were doing for something “urgent” when he really just wandered around somewhere while ranting about random things to you or the fiery red butterfly that’s seemed to take a liking to you and could almost always be found resting on your shoulder

…and well, there were less subtle ones too- like the random segment that would always be a few steps behind you no matter where you went or the almost weekly chess games that the jester kept invite you even though you kept losing miserably to him hey! it’s not you’re fault when you also have to focus on ignoring the suprising amount of sexual tension!

but even more suprising is the way damselette calls you over to just. lay her head in your lap and sing or doze off while you do your work.

however, unlike damselette, the marionette is one for more silent appreciation. she shows you the projects she’s working on and if you show interest in a particular thing, say, one of automaton she’s creating, she’ll take note of it and might even make a pocket sized version to give to you- something that you could put on your keychain or keep as a figurine if you’re into that type of stuff!

Speaking of gifts- the regrator. gives. you. so. many. at first, he gave you jewelry with a price tag that even glancing at would probably send someone into debt but if you don’t wear jewelry, he’ll probably take note of things you like or hobbies you have. you like drawing? prepare to have trouble opening the door with how many expensive art supplies are piled up infront of it. you like stuffed animals? BOOM!! Your bed is overflowing with so many stuffed animals! You’re hyperfixating on something? Don’t worry- hes got ya covered!

Now, if you ever wanted to get better in combat, who better to ask for help than the Knave herself? However busy she is with the orphanage, she can always find time to help you fix your posture or get better at using a different weapon or anything you might need help with. While she’s cold and straightforward to everyone else, she’s surprisingly patient when it comes to you and sometimes, on the particularly rough days, quietly reassures you that you did good.

And lastly, Childe. He’s one of the more openly friendly ones that you can have actual normal conversations with. He’s definitely more comfortable with showing affection because of the traveler and his family and such so he’s someone you could go to if you just need a hug and a headpat.

Soft harbingers. That’s it. I WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY PLEASE MIHOYO PLS GIVE THEM HAPPINESS

anyways so sorry that this turned into just me rambling or if this is incomprehensible or something 😭

[miistymemorii]

Adam Stanheight SFW Alphabet

A/N: hoping to do these for all the characters, I love headcanons lol. Please enjoy! These are all GN!reader, I believe.

Affection

Adam is most comfortable with affection in a private setting. He's not one for PDA, but in the comfort of your home, he's practically clung to your side. Besides physical affection, he is fond of gift giving, but in the most money-safe ways. He dabbles in art, leaving drawings on your bedside table if you've had a stressful day, and he will sometimes photograph things outside that remind him of you, presenting them to you in a small photo album.

Best friend

The two of you started out as friends pretty fast. He really liked your personality, so he tried to spend as much time with you as he could. He did consider you his best friend at one point, but he was really happy to become more than friends.

Cuddles

He does cuddle but does so by flopping on top of you when he came home from work. He is DEF a little spoon enthusiast, but he won't say it out loud, instead he just huffs and shuffles restlessly in the bed until you hold him.

Domestic

He loves when you stay over at his place and the two of you play house. For the longest time, the honeymoon phase seemed like it would never end. You stay over at his house a lot, just consuming all of your time together. Whenever you're over, Adam insists on cooking. It's rough at first, but the more you stayed over meant the more practices, and eventually he got decent at cooking.

Ending (if they had to break up, how would they do it)

GAH THIS KILLS ME TO WRITE BUT there's no way he'd want to end a relationship. He is desperate, anxious to hold on to anything good in his life. He knows it's wrong, but he develops sick addictions to his partners. If the two of you were to break up, you'd have to dump him.

Fiancee (how do they feel about marriage)

I think he would be pretty okay with marriage but is not too into the pageantry of it all. His logic is that marriage would be just like dating, but with tax cuts. Just like dating was the same as being best friends but with sex. And so on. He would save up to buy you a decent ring, just to show that it matters to him.

Gentle

Adam can be a very gentle person. He cares about you so much; he constantly keeps himself in check to make sure he's not screwing up what y'all have. He may not be mushy-gushy, but he's certainly affectionate, in his own ways.

Hugs

Adam gives amazing hugs. Each one is enveloping, but never too tight. He likes to hug you and hold you, a physical reminder that you, the thing that grounds him, is real.

I love you

Adam definitely said "I love you" first, but it was on accident. You had been dating for, like, two weeks, and as you kissed his cheek goodbye and headed out the door, he called out "love you, bye!" before shouting, "SHIT!". You ran back inside, laughing, and gave him a kiss before telling him you loved him too, leaving him standing in his livingroom with a goofy smile.

Jealousy

Adam isn't a jealous person, but he is insecure. He knows you would never cheat, and he knows you can hold your own against a drunken stranger, but if he could tell someone was hitting on you, he would probably start to doubt himself. Over time, he opens up to you about this negative mindset, and you help him through it.

Kisses

There is always so much affection behind every kiss you and Adam share, no matter how big or small it may be. If you two are busy, he'll rush past you with a small peck on your forehead, or if you come home and sees you had a bad day, he'll kiss your hands, then gently rubbing the tension out of them.

Little ones (kids)

UGHHHHH controversial, maybe. but I think Adam would be good with kids. I think he has a lot of "childish" hobbies, like video games, action figures, old cartoons, and he thinks the way kids think is funny, so he's good at carrying on a conversation with a kid. The first time you see him interact with a kid, and so well at that, you swoon, and know he's who you want to raise kids with.

Morning

Adam is NOT I repeat N O T a morning person. God, he dreads the sudden start he gets when the sun shines through his bedroom curtains juuuust right and laserbeams his eyes. You have to drag him out of bed, but if you leave before he starts work, he most likely ends up back in bed.

Night

Adam thrives in the night. Well, "thrive" is a strong word for what state he's in when the sun goes down. He usually works well into the night, but even when he comes home, he's restless, needing time to relax before bed. His body is exhausted, screaming for slumber, but his mind stays awake. Eventually, you have to coax him into bed, or else he'd be up till sunrise.

Open (how revealing, comfortable, open are they)

Adam is not a very open person. When he met you, he knew that there was something about you, a safety that made him compelled to talk to you about serious things. Still, he has a tough time expressing himself when he has intense feelings, getting upset when something potentially traumatic becomes the topic of discussion. Over time, he realizes that he needed to trust you, and himself, so he started small, getting a small journal to write in daily.

Patience

You're the only person Adam has patience for. He doesn't like public spaces or large crowds, growing anxious when the two of you go out. The first few times you went out to somewhere crowded, you were surprised how short he was with other people during small inconveniences. Eventually he learned to be better, but he would still return home with his social battery drained.

Quiet time (what is quiet time like with them/free time)

I feel like Adam reads and has a few books BUT a large collection of comic books. When the two of you have quiet time, he is most likely reading said comic books. He also like to sketch, mostly crude cartoons, but he still scribbles away in his sketch book from time to time.

Remember (fav memory about the relationship)

His fav memory is definitely from the first time you slept over at his house. The feeling of holding each other, the warmth of you beside him for the first time, so used to waking up alone. That night he had also made a pizza, which actually turned out exceptionally well.

Security (how protective are they)

Adam knows you can hold your own, but he won't hesitate to tell someone off if they're being rude. He secretly likes getting to say, "my girlfriend"; not in a possessive way, just as a fun reminder that the two of you are in love.

Try (how much effort do they put in)

Adam is really good about putting in effort, and not just in a 50%/50% way. He understands you have bad days, and he acts accordingly, either pampering you as you need or giving you space to think. Adam tries in every aspect of the relationship..

Ugly (how do they react to your insecurities? What about their insecurities?)

Adam has plenty of insecurities, so he understands what it's like to feel insecure. He also understands that he can't possibly know exactly what you're thinking, because that was something only you knew. Still, he tries as best he can, always reminding you that he's here to talk, to vent, to get reassurance. Similarly, you keep that connection open with him, but he's a little more reluctant to open up. It's not like he's good at hiding his insecurities, though, but you provide him with the support he needs.

 Vanity (how groomed/consumed with their looks are they)

Adam remembers to brush his teeth.

OKAY, and he showers regularly. He doesn't do anything special with his hair or clothes, but he still looks relatively put-together. He puts a lot of effort into more formal settings, wanting to look as good as you.

Whole (do they feel incomplete without you?)

Adam would say yes, but it's only partially true. He has spent a lot of his life alone or holding meaningless relationships. He appreciates the space you fill, the bond between the two of you precious to him. Still, he understands that the two of you are separate people. However, if you're apart for more than a week, he becomes restless.

Xtra (random headcanon)

Before the two of you have kids (if you even want that), Adam would be really into having a pet. A cat or a dog, sure, but I could see him secretly wanting some kind of lizard or snake for a pet.

Yuck (what are some things they wouldn’t like, in a partner or just in general?)

Adam used to date alot of ruse girls in his early 20's, wanting to seem edgy. However, as he ages and matures, he realized how exhausting those relationships were, so he doesn't like rude people, ESPECIALLY if they're the type of person who makes being rude their whole personality.

Zzzz (sleeping habits)

This man hasn't had a stable sleeping schedule since elementary school. He is used to sleeping all day, going out at night, but since being with you he tries to go to bed at a reasonable time and wake up before noon. He definitely moves in his sleep, flopping on his back and yanking you to his side, or smothering your body with his heavy, sleeping form.

[gxthicwxrm]

Good Choice (Without Him Part Two) - m. murdock x reader

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader

Warnings: angst, happy ending, cursing, pregnancy

Word Count: 1,814 words

Summary: Matt and Reader find common ground regarding their child and future.

Part One Masterlist

---

"Ms, L/N. You are having a beautiful baby boy. " Your doctor speaks in a soft gentle tone as her hand glides the ultrasound device across your protruding stomach. Tears welled as you looked at Foggy who was holding your hand with an intense stare on the monitor. A smile washes over his face as the doctor confirms what we suspected. 

A boy. Smiling widely at the monitor looking at your precious baby, warmth filled your heart. Thoughts of baby cuddles, taking him to the park, good field trips, sports, all the potential memories but none have him in them. You thought you'd never regret leaving him after what he did with her but all you want now is for him to hold you, not Karen, Not Foggy. But the father of your child.

Karen and Foggy have been taking turns for doctors' appointments, despite your protests, eager to be with their niece or nephew. Despite not being blood-related, you all were family. 

"I know it's been rough for you these last few months between him and this baby. Just know I am always one call away, even if it's just to talk no matter how small. The next three 9months are going to be scary, but worth it in the end. " Your doctor smiles gently, making you nod a 'yes' knowing you'd never take her offer. "Well, I'm all done here. Imma get Rachel to draw up those discharge papers and get out of your hair. Keep taking good care of her, Fog. She needs it. Extra rest, stop stressing the baby." She says with a wide smile as she waves goodbye, closing the door on her way out.

Foggy wipes your stomach with the rag provided to remove the goop from the machine and sticks his hands out, which you take and allow him to pull you up. He grabs your underwear and pants, handing them to you before he stands by the door, facing away from you. 

Reaching down with underwear in hand, you go to bend over before realization hits you. You can't. 

"Uhm..Fog..I can't reach." When he turns, you are barely hunched over, belly blocking you from seeing your feet. Your best friend starts to laugh.

"Y/N, you look like the Hunchback from that Disney movie." He moves to grab your pants, holding them out. 

"Shut up and help me!" You laugh, shaking your head. You sit back down on the bed, doing your best to cover yourself as he slips your underwear up to wear so you can reach them before quickly turning back around to face the opposite of you. 

"Tell me when you're done." He says obviously. 

"No. Imma tell you to turn around now to see my cooch, yes I will tell you when I'm done." Sarcasm drips from your words as a chuckle follows them.

"Between you and Matt, this kid is gonna be the definition of sarcasm." At the mention of him, everything comes crashing back down onto your happy moment.

Your feelings for Matt were still as strong as when you left, you hated him for what he did to your family. But your love for him was just as strong too. You couldn't let all that love go, so you focused on your son. But it was like being stranded at sea. Every time you think you're strong enough to do this and swim back to shore, another wave would snatch you up and take you away. Your love for him was drowning you and you fucking hated it. You shouldn't have any love for the bastard. You tell yourself as a memory of the night you think you become pregnant haunts. You both were filled with so much love and passion for each other. 

Immediately, a tear runs down your face and you wipe it away. Pulling up your bottoms, you tap Fog with your foot. 

"Can I get my pants?" He turns around and quickly wraps you in his embrace.

"I'm sorry I brought him up. But you have to talk to him at some point. This is his baby, too. He's begging Karen and me to give him information from the doctors, you, everything." Foggy pleads for the fifth time that week. You know he's right. Matt should be here for his son and he would if I let him. But letting him means letting him near you and you weren't ready for that.

"Would you drop this if I said I'd think about it?" Pulling back with his arms still holding your shoulders, he nods with a soft smile. "Okay now get my pants. Please, Karen has Chinese food with our names on it!" You say in a sing-song tone. Smiling he repeats what he did with your bottoms to your joggers, but instead of turning he pulls them up for you and slides your slides onto your feet before sticking his arm out to you.

"Come now Milady. Off we go!" He says as you take his arm. "Time to stuff our faces, nom nom nom!" He says in a gruff, raspy voice, using his hands to peck at your shoulders.

"You are so weird!" You say as you leave the doctor's office, heading home.

---

Laughing, you push the door to Karen's apartment as Foggy holds the food behind you. Stepping into the apartment, you go straight to the bathroom, ready to pee on yourself. Closing the door, you hear Foggy say "the fuck" loudly before muffled voices. 

Finished in the bathroom, you go back to the living room with food on your mind.

" I can't wait to dig into this Rangoon! I've been dreaming of it since last we- what the fuck?" Sitting beside Karen is Matt. Foggy is still standing but the food now rests on the coffee table between the group. Gritting your teeth, you shake your head. Unbelievable. You look over to Karen in disbelief. 

"You let him in? Knowing we were on the way back? Fuck this." You turn to go to your room but am stopped by a hand on your arm. Lightning speed, you twist around with your hand raised ready to hit the man that caused you so much pain but stop when you see it just Foggy.

"I know this isn't how you wanted to do this and I promise we did not plan this! Right, Karen?"

"You know how I feel about this, Y/N. He just showed up and refused to leave. I didn't know what to do."

"Call the cops." You mutter under your breath. A sad smile finds its way to Matt's face. With a sigh, Matt stands up and turns in your direction before taking a step toward you. Silently, Karen nods to Foggy for them to leave, you wish they would stay but you let them go, knowing how awkward it is to see a couple, especially your friends, fighting. Or in our case, separating. 

"I'm so sorry. And I'll always love you and want you. But, I'm not here to try to win you back. I know what I did was wrong and can never be forgiven, at least not for a while. I just want a chance to be a father to my child and if possible, your friend." Your eyebrow shot up at the word friend.

"Or just co-parents. I just want to be in their lives. Please." His voice is genuine, dripping with guilt, sadness, and even hurt. Seeing him like this kills you, but then flashes of him in Jen's bed pop into your head. 

“How could you do this to me?” If it wasn’t for his super-hearing, Matt wouldn’t have heard you, you mustered the words. Hurt flashes across his face as his eyes soften, his hand flinches to reach for you but he decides against it as he drops his extended hand. 

“There’s no excuse for what I did. I was drunk-”

“Oh, that lame-ass excuse! You just said you didn’t have any, but lied in the same breath.” You yell, shaking with anger. 

“No! I’m just trying to explain what happened. Please just let me talk.” He begs, hands out open and waiting: an invitation, not a demand. Everything in you tells you to grab him and let him hold you, you need his comfort after months of doing this without him. But, you couldn’t break. However, you couldn’t keep Matt out of his child’s life. You take a deep breath, trying to calm down. 

“G-Go ahead. Explain.” Your voice is shaking, you can tell if you're ready to cry or if you are angry. His begging eyes relax a little bit before glassing over with tears.

“I had too many drinks and I felt so out of place there. I was lonely and missing you. I was at the bar the next thing I know I was in someone else’s bed. I felt sick. I wanted to throw up. She woke up and I told her everything about us. We both got so drunk neither of us remember what happened. None of this is an excuse. I fucked up so bad and lost the best two things I ever had. Please give me a second chance, even as a co-parent. Just let me be in his life, p-please.” His voice cracks as a tear slides down his stubbled cheek.

Looking at his still-extended hand, you put yours in his. His eyes focus in on your general direction as a smile forms on his face. 

“We can be friends. Friends are okay.” You whisper, happy tears rolling down your face.

“This baby will need us and I want us to do this together, even if we aren’t..together.” His face fell as you mentioned no longer being a couple. Maybe you two could grow to pass this, for your baby and each other.

“I can do friends.” He says. “Can friends hug?” He asks. Instead of answering you rush into his embrace. His warmth wraps around you as his scent fills your nostrils. He feels like coming home. 

“I refuse to move and refuse to sleep on the couch so you can take your pick of the floor or couch.” You say into his chest, a low rumble coming from his chest as he laughs while his arms tighten around your waist, cradling your stomach with one hand. 

“I missed you so much.” He mutters into your neck, feeling your skin against his. 

“That’s not an answer.” Pulling back slightly, you look up at him. Annoyed, he huffs as he looks down at you.

“Couch.” He says making you smile at him.

“Good choice.” You beam as you snuggle back into his chest. You couldn’t help but love him. You knew you two weren't going to be friends forever, but your heart needed time, time to heal, time to forget.

part three coming soon!!

tags: @scarletsloveletterr @margoo0 @echos-muses @pbeckn26 @rockyhayzkid @lportes-22 @sinnah8

[userlando]

✧･ﾟ 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮

alejandro vargas x female!reader [3.1k] summary ⤍ alejandro comes home three days earlier than expected. warnings ⤍ 18+ (mdni) explicit language & smut, unprotected sex (piv), oral sex (f receiving) a/n ⤍ i have been obsessed with call of duty lately and this man does not have enough fics written about him. also been feeling like crap lately so this was just very self-indulgent. any and all feedback is appreciated and welcomed. my spanish is also super limited so don't judge too much pls

The door creaks when Alejandro steps over the threshold, eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness as he sneaks inside and makes a mental note to oil the hinges in the morning. He toes off his combat boots and pushes them to the side, scanning the downstairs area for any signs of life. There's none, but it's clear that it's been a rough day judging by the endless clutter of toys strewn from the hallway leading into the living area.

It's hard not to smile in fondness at the mess, heart squeezing when he approaches the coffee table where his daughter had clearly been kept busy with drawing. His fingers touch the messily scrawled letters spelling out 'daddy', taking in a drawing of what he assumes is him - with weirdly tall legs - holding hands with a little girl that resembles his daughter. He shrugs off his jacket, drapes it over the couch and gets to work on collecting all the toys and cleaning up the mess as quietly as he can. It's a big house, so he's not too worried about waking someone up.

When the dishes are washed and placed on the rack to dry, he turns around and heaves a sigh. The exhaustion is starting to creep up on him as he finally lets himself relax, shoulders dropping from where they'd been tense. It had been a hard and gruelling mission, one that had kept him away from his family for over three weeks. The sudden need to see his two favourite girls becomes too much, too fast.

He skillfully sneaks into his daughters room, locates her sleeping form and spends more time than he should've to look at her. He knows she's a light sleeper, refraining from stroking the brown locks away from her face or giving her forehead a kiss. Alejandro made another silent mental note to wake up early to surprise her with pancakes. Maybe he could keep her from school and spend the day with her.

Leaving her sleeping soundly in her bed, he walks quietly down the hallway to the bedroom he shares with you. The door is ajar, soft light spilling from the open crack and he remembers how you'd been doing that ever since you had your daughter. What if she needs me and I can't hear her? You'd once replied when he asked why you insisted on keeping the door open. Alejandro was trained to hear a needle drop, but he could understand your worry all the same and didn't protest at all.

The bedside lamp was on, shedding enough light for him to spot your sleeping form spanned over the mattress. He smiles at the way you're sleeping on your stomach, hands shoved beneath the pillow your head is resting on and he tries to contain the way his heart jumps in his throat when he realizes you're sleeping on his side and on his pillow. He had a feeling you'd been doing that when he's away, it's hard not to notice the smell of your sweet shampoo on his pillow but seeing it in person does things to Alejandro that he couldn't even put to words even if you tried.

He yanks his sweater off as quietly as he can and wastes no time to crawl onto the bed, the mattress dipping where he places his knees. Alejandro should probably let you sleep, judging by the little circles under your eyes and the way your nose is softly whistling with every breath. Btut he really can't help it, dipping his head down to nose into the juncture of your neck and throat. You're ticklish there, always squirming when he kisses you there but you're soft and warm, and you smell so good that he can't help but nuzzle into the little space with a small, happy sigh.

As predicted, you stir in your sleep at the soft touch, shoulder tensing up as his eyelashes tickles a particularly sensitive spot. The tired giggle that escapes your lips almost has Alejandro keeling over.

"Mi amor." Alejandro presses a kiss to your cheek and watches your eyes flutter.

Your lips stretch into a smile when you start to wake up, struggling to turn around with the way your husband is straddling you; Covers wrapped around you messily. He helps you turn onto your back and then you two look at each other with matching smiles on your face. You take in the slight stubble on his face, hands reaching out to touch the prickly skin as you stroke your thumb under his eyes.

"Welcome home." You murmur and that's the incentive he needs to bend down and kiss you.

He loves on your lower lip for a moment before trailing small kisses over your jawline, up to your cheeks.

"You're not supposed to be home for another three days." You say, trying to sound accusing but the smile on your face is too happy.

Alejandro smiles and noses along your cheek lovingly; Like he needs to feel you with him, here, alive. It's not unusual for him to become like this after his missions because God knows what kind of horrendous things he experiences on the daily. That's one of the biggest reasons why you'd decided to move out to the country side, settling down in a farm house with minimal civilization. I need to know that my two favourite girls are safe when I'm not there to protect them, he'd once said. The fear in his eyes and the urgency in his voice was enough conviction for you. He already had a million things to worry about, you didn't need to add his family to the list. Even though you were pretty sure that you were the highest ones up on the list already.

"Needed to see you." He murmured, sighing against your cheek. The puff of air makes you squirm.

"And you're okay?" You cup his face and bring it up in front of you so you can take a look at him.

He doesn't seem harmed, the darkness under his eyes the only indication that he's been struggling. His eyes search your face before he nods once.

"I'm alright, corazón." He grabs your hands in his and presses kisses to them. "Are you two alright?"

You grimace and it makes Alejandro laugh.

"Your daughter is hellbent on challenging me every day," You pause and smile bashfully at him. "I guess you saw the mess downstairs."

Alejandro smiles and bends down, placing his elbows on either side of you. You can't help but crane your neck up to steal a kiss from him.

"Already taken care of, cariño." He goes for a second kiss and you respond eagerly when his tongue touches yours softly.

He kisses you deeply enough to forget what you were talking about, fingers sliding between his strands of hair to grip it softly. Alejandro gently moans into your mouth and you kiss him harder, not realizing how much you'd missed being touched like this until now. Granted, it had only been three weeks but it had been three weeks too long. And your husband seems to share that sentiment, judging by the way he grips your hair and tilts your head to the side so he can suck kisses into your neck. You pant into the air at the feel of his stubble against your sensitive skin, feeling feverish all of a sudden.

"And you?" He whispers into your skin, bringing his sinful mouth back to your ear. "Do you need to be taken care of?"

You can't help the moan in response, feeling your body light up just from his words and Alejandro seems to enjoy it. You can feel his mouth stretch into a smile, kissing his way up to your lips and claiming them once again.

"Yes, yes please." You reply belatedly, feeling a little like your head is swimming.

Alejandro doesn't waste any time to pluck the straps of your nightgown down from your shoulders, slipping them off enough to expose your breasts. He moans in appreciation at the sight of them, scooting down to mouth at the swell of them. You squirm beneath him, hands gripping his hair when he wraps his lips around one nipple to suck and lightly tease with his teeth. The slight sting of it makes it all the more pleasurable.

"Seems like I've been neglecting you, sweetheart." He releases your nipple and pouts at you.

It doesn't make him look regretful nor sad. He just looks outright devilish with his eyes locked on yours, hands coming up to grab at both your tits to knead and massage into his palms. He marvels at the way your mouth drops, taking in your fluttering eyelids and decides that he's waited enough.

His hands wander down, pushing the covers to your feet before he slides his palms up your legs. You try not to think too hard about how you hadn't had time to take care of yourself and taken the time to freshen up and shave, but Alejandro looks enamored all the same when he takes his time to knead your thighs. You had been together for four years and married for three, so you knew that he had absolutely no qualms when it came to body hair or the way you looked.

"Eyes on me, baby." His voice brought you out of your drifting thoughts, pads of his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as if to ground you.

You locked eyes with him, warmth spreading over your cheeks when you realized that he'd caught you worrying silently in your head. He somehow knew exactly what you were feeling and thinking, and the reassuring smile he sent your way was enough for you to relax and spread your legs so he could wedge himself between them.

"You look perfect," He trailed off and looked down at his hands travelling up your thighs, pushing the hem of your night gown with it. You squirmed when he flipped it up to your stomach, eyes hungrily taking in your center. "Fuck, so gorgeous."

You'd foregone underwear completely, feeling way more comfortable sleeping without them, but it seemed to stun Alejandro into silence as he trailed his fingers down over your mound until he nudged your clit. It wasn't a surprise that you were soaked, almost closing your legs when he swiped a finger down your hole and slicking it up. He scooted down further to lay on his stomach, pressing small and reassuring kisses to your inner thighs before he licked up your center.

A startled whimper escaped you and you clamped a hand over the crown of his head, the other one grabbing onto the sheets by your side. You sighed out a small moan when you felt his tongue circle your clit, pursing his lips and sucking it into his mouth. He placed a hand on your hip and pushed you back down into place when you bucked up into his mouth, eyes flickering down to find him staring at you.

He looked captivating, mouth working sinfully between your legs and eyebrows drawn taut. His eyes were dark, resistant and not moving away from your face in fear of missing a single facial expressions flickering over your face. It was a struggle to keep your sounds in, especially when he worked a finger and then two into you. It should've been embarrassing how easily you sucked them in, but you were too far gone and too close to your orgasm to care about it.

Alejandro hummed low in his throat when you started making those hitched noises he loved so much, indicating that you were close to your release. You wrapped your legs around his form and whispered a string of yes, yes, yes when the vibrations of his humming sent you straight over the edge of oblivion. Your body taut as a bowstring, back arched and hands gripping the sheets, you gasped out your orgasm as Alejandro licked and sucked at you through the waves of intense pleasure. He snuck a hand into his pants and gripped himself at the sounds you were making, your taste on his tongue and the blissed out expression on your face. He was so hard he felt like all the blood had rushed down, making him feel lightheaded when the stroke of his hand gave him some form of release.

It wasn't enough though and he placed multiple kisses to your inner thighs before he climbed up once again to claim your mouth in a filthy kiss that had you whimpering. You were still shivering, hot puffs of breath escaping your lips and melting Alejandro's insides from how incredibly hot he found it. Found you. You looked absolutely destroyed already, eyes blown out and satisfied; Just as he liked you.

"More," you murmured against his lips and it sounded like beautiful music to your husbands ear. "Need more, Ale. Please."

You didn't need to tack on the please, because Alejandro would move mountains and collect every star in the sky for you if you asked. He didn't know how it was possible to love someone like he loved you, and it only seemed to grow every day.

He made quick work of shedding the rest of his clothes, struggling to keep from preening when you stroked your hands over his broad shoulders, bulging biceps and touching the hairs on his muscled chest. The admiration in your eyes made something in his stomach go tight from adoration for you and pride because a body like his didn't just appear out of nowhere. He'd worked hard for it and it kind of came with his job.

Your hands wandered and came to a stop on the back of his neck when he leaned close to you, cock nudging your entrance. You both let soft gasps when he let himself slide along your slick pussy, legs wrapping themselves around his body. Alejandro's breath stuttered when he buried his face against your neck, sliding himself home and making you clench on instinct. He made a sound in his throat at the sudden tightness and warmth, arms wrapping around your torso to hold you as close to him as possible.

"God, you feel so good." His voice was hushed, spoken warmly against your cheek and you turned your head to press a kiss to his lips as he bottomed out inside of you.

"You feel huge." You said, not really meaning to vocalize your thoughts out loud but it made Alejandro laugh in your ear.

"Oh, really?" He pulled back and thrust back in slowly, making you moan. "Like that?"

You nodded your head, leaning your head back against the pillow and closing your eyes. Alejandro built up a rhythm, hips meeting your flesh with every thrust he made as he started fucking into you. It had been a few weeks, enough for you to forget how incredibly thick he was. Even though you'd pushed out a baby, and had four year to get used to his size, it just... Never got easier. It did mean that he could stretch you out so deliciously good that you'd feel it for days after. Like the time when you'd had Rudy staying over for a few days and he'd noticed your limp in the morning as you went to prepare the coffee machine. He hadn't outright said anything, too embarrassed to point out your funny walk, but it had been written all over his face when you'd turned around to face him. You didn't know why you ever thought you could hide it from someone like him. Alejandro still found it hilarious to this day.

"He estado pensando en ti." Your husband nosed along your cheek before giving you a kiss.

You knew he thought of you often, but it never failed to warm your heart because you always thought about him whether he was away or at home. And that's exactly what you voiced out loud.

"Pienso en ti siempre." You spoke against his lips, watching as his lips stretched into a breath taking smile.

He gave a thrust, mouth dropping open into a sinful O and you watched, mesmerized. It was clear he wasn't far from orgasming, thrusts faltering a little as he started speeding up. You moaned and grabbed at his shoulder, letting him nip at your throat and press filthy kisses against your lips as he fucked into you. It was only a matter of time, the slickness of your pussy and the clenching set him on edge; Made him bare his teeth like an animal. It was hard to look away when he sat himself up and grabbed at your knees to push your legs up and to your stomach, growling low in his throat at the tightness around his cock. He looked breath takingly beautiful, bushy eyebrows scrunching up and eyes fluttering shut when he tilted his head back.

A couple of thrusts into you and he gasped into the vastness of the room, breath stuttering as he came inside of you. You grabbed at his arms, pulled him down into you and kissed him just so he could moan freely into your mouth without waking up your kid in the other room. He slowly recovered, body quivering and twitching whenever you'd clench involuntarily around his sensitive cock and you ran your fingers softly through his damp hair as he gradually came down from his high.

You grimaced against the top of his head when he slowly pulled himself out of you with a hiss, and he must've felt you tense up a bit because he placed a gentle kiss to your naked shoulder.

"Lo siento." He moved his head from your chest to pull your night gown over your exposed chest and the straps up your shoulders.

You were too tired to protest when he eventually moved off of you, making his way to the adjoining bathroom to clean himself up. It took a moment and you didn't realize that you'd dozed off until you jolted awake when the mattress dipped. Alejandro whispered an apology, to which you gave him a sleepy smile, and then went to work on cleaning you up with a damp rag. He threw it to the side when he was done and made himself comfortable right beside you.

"I'm happy you're home." You broke the silence with a sleepy whispered confession.

Alejandro gently pulled you into his arms, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck with a happy sigh.

"Me too, mi amor."

[wannab-urs]

The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 26

Howdy!

I am still on soft hiatus, but I think I've read enough over the last few weeks to do one of these. Apologies if I read your fic and it's not on here, I had to kind of dig around to find what I read since I wasn't keeping track.

I have 16 fics for you this week. I'm just pasting in the author provided summary and warnings instead of my usual nonsense bc I still don't have the mental capacity to do that.

As always you can find all of my fic recs here and feel free to tag me in your fics and I'll add them to my tbr!

Recs below the Pedro (a drawing of Pedro as Reed Richards by justralphy on instagram)

The Clink a Javi P one shot by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Summary: Prison Guard Javi Tags: DUBCON due to power imbalance (reader is an inmate and cannot legally consent), oral sex m!receiving, unprotected PIV, creampie

The Sweepstakes a series of one shots by @katareyoudrilling

Summary: A collection of standalone one-shots featuring various Pedro boys. A popular porn site runs a contest for viewers to win a night with their favorite porn star. Tags: Unprotected PiV (paperwork is involved), oral sex (m and f receiving), kink negotiation, some choking and breath play

A Very Furby Christmas a Joel one shot by @proxima-writes

Summary: it’s christmas eve 1998 and joel miller thinks everything is perfect. well, until his brother admits he didn’t get sarah the one present she wanted - the furby. now, joel has to go out on christmas eve to find the year’s hottest toy that’s been sold out for months. turns out, you’re on the same mission. and you’ve both found the last furby in town. Tags: pre-outbreak, no use of y/n, holiday/christmas fic, the last toy trope, no smut, age gap - not explicitly specified but joel is 31 and reader is mid-20s, the great miller gingerbread construction competition, operation get sarah miller a furby, some kissing.

To Touch Darkness a Din one shot by @djarincore

Summary: Din becomes possessed by the darksaber, forcing all of his darkest fears and deepest desires to manifest in a way that threatens to consume you. Tags: dark, dubcon, biting, blood, oral (m/f receiving), hair pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, possessive behavior, name calling, dirty talk, breeding kink, breath play, degradation, unprotected PIV, manhandling, mainly smut

All Mouth a Max Phillips one shot by @idolatrybarbie

Summary: max phillips and prompt no. nine— "you look so pretty like this." with a twist! Tags: reader is not American/not an "American vampire", porn with mild plot, pet names (honey, baby, sweetie, Maxxie), all the usual vampire genre warnings, including but not limited to - graphic blood and gore, cannibalism, mention of scars, horror themes, love as consumption, smut - mommy kink, degradation (max gets called a slut), cock slapping, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, handjob, alcohol mention, fluff.

Sated a Joel one shot by @softlyspector

Summary: Joel just wants you to eat well Tags: love as being consumed, blood drinking, smut from start to finish (piv, f!receiving oral, fingering), Joel's praise kink, talk of eating, consuming, drinking, hunger, etc, vampires you get it.

When My Time Comes Around a Joel series by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Summary: You’ve spent much of the time since the outbreak began alone and isolated. Until, one day, you come upon a man dying in the snow. You save his life and in return, he saves yours. Tags: canon divergence, detailed canon typical violence, detailed descriptions of blood and injuries and wound care, major character death, child loss, grief, suicidal ideation, THERE WILL BE A HAPPY ENDING but it will take a while to get there, ANGST, major angst and this is going to be VERY SAD for a while and I am sorry about making you sad kinda

Uncut a Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

Summary: You give Din his first blowjob and he’s insecure about a little secret he’s been keeping. Tags: no physical description used for Reader, porn with little plot, uncircumcised!Din, shy!Din, oral sex (M receiving), body worship, pet names (baby for Din, cyar’ika for you), cum eating, no use of y/n

The Watch a Joel one shot by @justagalwhowrites

Summary: You try to do something kind for Joel but things backfire in a way you never expected. Tags: SMUT! Canon-typical violence. I did almost no proofing on this so... ya know. Basically no age-gap, reader is 3 years younger than Joel. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

The Checklist a Joel series by @thetriumphantpanda

Summary: Your new boyfriend Joel finds your hidden stash of porn, full of pages with their corners folded over, marking the things you like the most. Expecting him to feel bad about finding things you're into, things you haven't asked for from him, you're surprised when he offers to help you tick them off. This is basically just a kink fest. Tags: Explicit smut, oral sex, established relationship, orgasm denial, breath play, rough sex, exhibitionism, overstimulation, temperature play, free use, bondage, anal play, porn without much plot. Please see individual chapters for additional warnings. No Outbreak AU. No use of Y/N.

Sexfiles.mp3 a Tim Rockford one shot by @beskarandblasters

Summary: You’re a true crime podcaster and you land the interview of your dreams with Detective Tim Rockford. What will happen when you two are alone in the studio after the interview is done? Tags: F!Reader, uneven power dynamic (Tim is a guest on Reader’s show) pet names, oral sex (M and F receiving), semi public sex (I think), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, drinking, no use of y/n

Lover, Be Sweet a Marcus Pike series by @idolatrybarbie

Summary: the beautiful evolution of your relationship with fairfax county's newest and cutest resident. Tags: social isolation, touch starvation, alcohol, themes of alienation, allusions to failed relationships, self doubt, light angst, fluff, anxiety, smut

Just a Taste a Joel one shot by @covetyou

Summary: Joel helps you clean up a mess. Tags: daddy kink, cuckolding, creampie, cum eating, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, male masturbation, one single pussy slap, rimming if you squint, pet names (baby, sweetheart), dd/lg vibes, established relationship, mention of original male character.

Crawling Back to You a Dieter one shot by @prolix-yuy

Summary: Have you no idea that you're in deep? (it's incubus!Dieter, friends) Tags: religious corruption kink, bastardizing prayers, brief drug use, mentions of alcohol consumption, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, breaking a hymen, descriptions of blood, biting and drawing blood, pheromone incubus anatomy, size difference/kink like whoa, monster transformation, monster fucking, PiV sex, wildly unrealistic sex, kind of dubious consent in the way that she has no idea what she's getting into so Dieter checks in A LOT, consent is sexy and monsters especially should ask for it, Reader has no idea what she's doing when it comes to summoning an incubus.

New in Town a Joel series by @justagalwhowrites

Summary: When you move to Austin for work, your best friend Sarah recommends that you hang out with her dad, Joel, to get to know the area. Sarah just never mentioned the fact that her dad is just your type. Tags: Contractor Joel, No outbreak, Joel is reader's best friend's dad, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, protected sex, Age Gap

Point A to Point B a Din series by tothestrongones (AO3)

Summary: Escorting a former Empire prisoner of war to a Rebel Alliance safe zone? It should be a piece of cake. Absolutely no problems whatsoever. Tags: Slow Burn, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Sexual Tension, Amnesia, Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Smut, Mutual Pining, Peril, Violence, Flashbacks, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Dirty Talk, Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Canon Divergence, Mando is Very Religious

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I'm very happy to tentatively be back in this space. i missed you guys a lot. I'm kind of reworking how I do things here - not putting so much pressure on myself to put things out and be present and read every single thing I can. I have a life and it's a busy one and I can't spend all my time here (unfortunately) but that doesn't mean I have to leave completely. I'll still do these... weekly-ish. Love y'all

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Happy Reading!

[veeples]

ockiss24 - valinter

Well hi there. I'm really just doing OC shipping these days, so <3. Happy ockiss24 to everyone! For @ockissweek! No theme used. title: bright, aching longing pairing: faustus valentine/winter collins (@narrativefoiltrope) rating: gen word count: ~1.2k ao3 link!

When Faustus opens his eyes, his bedroom is that surreal shade of blue before the sun can gild it gold. It must be very early. Winter’s alarm hasn’t even gone off yet. Her back is facing him, half bare with her summer pajamas. If he focuses he can make out the freckles on her shoulders, freshly vibrant from the weekend gardening.

Looking at her fills him with a bright, aching longing. They haven’t had a morning to themselves in weeks . Months, maybe. Between the kids and both their jobs, they can only manage to find their privacy at night. Faustus recognizes that familiar longing as loneliness.

He misses her.

The distance between them becomes suddenly, acutely intolerable. He wants her in his arms, like, right fucking now.

“Winter,” he says, voice low and rough with sleepiness.

After a moment, she hums so low he almost misses it. She’s probably tired. The weekend had been as hectically busy as they tend to be now with kid’s birthday parties and local events. He almost hesitates. It would be kinder to let her sleep, but he’s always been a selfish bastard.

Reaching out to stroke her spine with his knuckles, he says, more insistent, “Mm, no, don’t go back to sleep. We have to enjoy this while it lasts.”

Sleepily, Winter mumbles, “Enjoy what?”

“The joy of the kids not being up.” She shifts a bit in interest, head turning towards him. Faustus smirks, scenting blood in the water, and continues. “Nice, isn’t it? We could have a little morning snuggle.”

“Hm…” 

“Come on ,” Faustus whines impatiently. “Honeybee, I’m cold. I’m freezing. Come warm me up.”

“Freezing in summer?” Winter laughs quietly. Faustus grins, smug with victory. He can tell she’s ready to give in.  “Alright.” 

Then, with a little sigh of effort, Winter rolls around until they’re face to face. Their eyes meet across the sheets and Faustus is too shameless to regret bothering her.

Gripped with excitement, Faustus does a stupid little shuffle towards her. Winter giggles, but she’s shuffling too, sheets rustling noisily in their otherwise silent room. Then: Faustus sighs happily as soon as he gets an arm draped across Winter’s waist and she’s got hers curled around his back. She smiles at him, drowsy and imperfect. Her hair is an ugly flattened mess on one side. Creases line her cheek on the side she slept on.

I love her, Faustus thinks, overwhelmed with the force of it.

“Hey,” he says in a whisper, like any louder and he’ll break the moment.

“Hi,” Winter whispers back.

Settling into the cuddle is as natural as breathing for Faustus. That bruised, aching thing in his chest quiets with Winter’s solid warmth in his arms. He has always been so hungry for affection. It’s insane to him that even now that he’s married, that hunger still hasn’t left him. 

Maybe he would always be like this. Maybe it was a simple consequence of their constraints: his touring, her job, the kids now. Even holding her, he finds himself wanting for more. Wishing they had endless time to indulge.

“I miss this.” Faustus says, stroking his thumb along the curve of her hip. “Mornings like this.”

Winter’s mouth goes soft and sweet with understanding, sad with a little longing. “I do too.”

Her hand draws a line up the worn cotton of his shirt to the overgrown fringe of hair at his nape. Faustus closes his eyes as she scratches there lightly. He could sink into this shared warmth for hours and hours. He really, really would like to. He’d love for everything – her job, his music, even the kids – to fall away for a while so they could enjoy each other without worry. 

Not for the first time, Faustus feels that nasty twinge of guilt. He loves his kids. He loves that parenthood fills him with a huge love, bigger than he knows how to really hold, and he even loves that it scares him shitless. But there’s also that nagging desire to monopolize Winter’s time. Bad habit of his, really. He’s an insatiable beast.

Ah, whatever. This really isn’t the time for that conversation. Later, he thinks, he’ll have to admit they need to figure out how they can get more time together or he might, like, keel over from wanting. It’s kinda funny that, even married, he finds himself wanting for her. 

Kinda funny. Mostly unfair.

For now, all he wants to do is fully enjoy the luxury of having his wife in his arms, her fingers in his hair, before the day pulls them apart again.

Soon – too fucking soon – Winter’s alarm interrupts their happy cuddle time. The look she gives him is one of strained regret. Faustus groans, lifts his arm, and watches her roll over to silence her phone on the nightstand with a pout. He waits until Winter’s out of bed, feet stuck into her pink plaid slippers and standing at their closet, to decide to poke her a bit.

Faustus sighs loudly, dramatic and jilted. “Is it worth it to convince you to come back to bed?”

“You can always try,” Winter says lightly as she examines her wardrobe. There’s a note of teasing in her voice, the bully she is. 

“Five minutes, Winter.”

Winter pulls out two sweaters, one blue, one tan, both equally grandma like in style. She considers them both before putting away the blue one. “Skylar will need to get ready soon though.”

“Three minutes?”

“Oh Faustus, what could we do in three minutes?”

“Cuddle some more?” Only now does Winter turn to him, eyebrows slightly raised in the mild astonishment of someone who knows Faustus hardly ever stops at cuddling. Faustus raises his hand in mock salute. “Scouts honor! Just a cuddle.”

Unmoved, Winter smiles at him like she really wants to give in, but knows she can’t. Instead she crosses back to the bed and cups his face between her palms and kisses him in way of an apology. It’s very tender, very loving, and again he wants more . Faustus tries to chase after it when she pulls away, but she stills him with a gentle squeeze to his jaw.

Faustus looks at her, helpless. For the second time that morning, he aches to have her in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” Winter whispers against his skin. “How about we get a babysitter for the end of the week for a little date night?”

That stirs some definite interest in him. Almost enough to make him drop his primadonna act, but not quite. “You’ll make me wait all week?”

“I’ll give you extra cuddles tonight.”

“And the rest of the week.”

“You’ll get spoiled like that.” Winter grins wide enough he can see her little tooth gap, all sweetness and affection. “Alright, all week.”

The rest of the morning goes exactly as all of them have since they added Clover to their little family. Check the baby, wrangle Skylar into his clothes, get breakfast on the table. Put on the kettle for Winter’s tea, start his coffee. Winter kisses him goodbye and he steals two more before he lets her go.

Faustus spends the rest of the day, after the kids are dropped off at daycare and he’s plopped his tired ass in the recording studio, looking forward to their nightly cuddle.

[glazesunflower]

When You're Catching Feelings For Somebody Else

Characters: Ayaka, Hu Tao, Shinobu, Eula, Lumine, Ganyu, Beidou, Shenhe, Thoma.

Warnings: Angst. Implied Reader cheating on the Character. F!Reader.

Notes: I apologize for the angst, but not really <3

Ayaka is not experienced in love, your affection is all she’s ever known, your hands the only pattern she’s learned to remember. But she’s not stupid, she’s not naive, and when you draw that smile that she loves so much, the one that makes your eyes wrinkle at the corners, the butterflies that bloom in her chest leave a bitter taste in her mouth. She’s not oblivious to the way your eyes seem less bright, your touch less warm on her cold hands, your words of love less often. Are we okay?, she asks you, her heart pooling on her hands, and you draw one of your beautiful smiles for her, tucking a white lock of hair behind her ear and resting there, soft and gentle, in the curve of her jaw. We are okay, you lie, and Ayaka can read it in your eyes under the sorrow that you keep tucked away in shame, but she stretches a smile all the same, sheltering into your touch in a way that makes her body ache at how easy it is to believe your words, to deceive herself for another night.

.

Hu Tao hears the rumors, they’re all around her, they always have been. The voices change, the words shift in motion, but the meaning behind stays all the same day after day. She’s learned to ignore them, pretend she’s oblivious to them, plaster a fake smile on her face and move on. She loves me, she repeats to herself. She loves me, she loves me, she loves me. And you do. You tell her every day, in the way your hands brush her cheeks every morning, the kiss you leave hanging on the edge of her lips, the texts you send her every hour letting you know where you are and when you’ll return home. But the rumors are there, and Hu Tao lets herself listen quietly, remembers thinking how alive you felt around her at the beginning, how grey you seem now, and the doubts creep up her mind like a vine. Do I make you happy? You throw your head back laughing, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and Hu Tao’s chest shudders. You make me happy, you say, but she can’t help but think that there’s someone out there that’s making you happier.

.

Shinobu knows something’s off. She’s learned to read your expressions like an open book, ever since the first day you stumbled upon her, and she can confidently say that you’re hiding something. She reads into your quiet mood, rough hands unused to affection all too familiar around your own. “Is everything alright?” She hates how she can’t bring herself to ask you the real question, Is there someone else? You look up at her, a smile blooming in your lips, and Shinobu’s heart shatters at the sight. Everything’s okay, my love, Shinobu doesn’t miss how your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, how it hasn’t done for a while, now. She hates her own weakness, her trembling heart as she leans down to you and lets you hold her in your arms, the warmth she knows so well. I love you, she whispers to your skin, despising the bitter taste they leave on her mouth, knowing she’s not strong enough to keep you or let you go.

.

Eula isn’t used to not being the center of your attention, can’t really pinpoint when it started. For a few weeks now she’s noticed you being distant, your eyes cast on the horizon like you’ve got so much on your mind, yet you’re reluctant to share your burdens when she asks. What’s on your mind? She would wrap her arms around your waist, pressing you close to her; but the tighter she holds you, the further away you feel from her. You, of course, Eula loathes the easy smile you draw for her. She detests being lied to, and you know that better than anyone. She’s not naive, she’s aware of your longing stare, how you try to keep telling her I love you every day, but it doesn’t have your honest ring to it, and Eula despises the fact that you’re dragging her along with it. If only you were straightforward, she could take it. If only you came clean about it, she could learn to hate you and let you go altogether. But now, with her arms wrapped around your waist and your thumb drawing circles on her hands, Eula feels more alone than she’s ever felt in her life.

.

Lumine feels it, even when you deny it. She feels you hold her with the fondness she’s learned to love, the gentleness she’s learned to take shelter in. You drag the pads of your fingers through her skin and draw patterns with your touch, whispering words of love like you did the first night she layed with you, but Lumine feels it all the same. She feels you slipping away from her worn out fingers. It’s okay if you’re tired, she says. It’s okay if there’s somebody else. Lumine wants so bad to believe that you’ll stay, but she’s not stupid and, most of all, she’s the furthest thing from being selfish. Hers is a long journey. It’s tiring, full of blood and fear and missing pieces. Lumine feels the honesty in your voice when you tell her, I’ll stay. When you say, I love you. When you promise, There’s nobody else but you. But each day she feels you slipping further away, and she forces herself to give you up now, before she crumbles down to your touch, before she can’t live without you, before you wake up and realize that you want to leave her, shattering whatever is left of her heart by then.

.

Ganyu worries, she watches the bags under your eyes grow every day and she fears there’s something keeping you up at night, something she can’t possibly wish to fix. Ganyu kisses your cheeks and makes you herbal tea, stays with you all night, hands in your hair as you cry into her chest. My heart, please, tell me what’s wrong, Ganyu begs, and begs, and begs. She wants nothing more than to be the sun in your life, the curve of your smile, the blooming of petals inside your ribcage. You only seem to cry harder, and Ganyu wonders what is left of her that she hasn’t offered you yet. She doesn’t realize how that is the problem, how she’s nothing but gentle and loving towards you, and you know you’ll break her heart into a million pieces if you come clean. Ganyu isn’t oblivious, isn’t dumb. But she is in love with you, so she chooses to hold you for as long as you’re beside her, not voicing how her chest aches with every breath. She’s learned that beautiful things vanish in time, and she’s terrified that if she lets go of you now, you’ll be gone from her life altogether, leaving her an empty shell of the person she used to be.

.

Beidou feels uneasy. She’s been at sea long enough to know, to feel it in her bones when a thunderstorm is coming, even if the skies are crystal clear as of now. And she’s been picking up on your hints. How you leave the house earlier every day, how you forget to text her you’ll be coming late, how you hold her hand when you’re out in the Harbor when you used to interlace your fingers together, always searching for more ways to be close to her. But at the same time, Beidou hates being suspicious of you, despises the tightness sitting at the pitch of her stomach when you’re close by, fearing that you’ll smell nothing like you and everything like someone that isn’t her. So she kisses you harder, she hugs you tighter, and she talks to you when she thinks you’re asleep. Stay with me. Don’t leave, she would whisper when you’re not awake to listen. I will make sure it’s worth it.

.

Shenhe waits for you. She waits for your, I will be home late, don’t wait for me, my love. She waits for your, I’m going for lunch with my colleagues today. Waits for your, I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it today. Can we go some other day? Shenhe stays awake, the bed you both share suddenly feeling less comfortable, and she waits for you to arrive. She’s never had a relationship before. She trusts you to guide her through mundane things, through her emotions, through what it feels like to love somebody, give yourself to them. But you’re not here with her, and Shenhe wonders if the throbbing pain in the depths of her ribcage is something normal to feel when you’re in love. But you love her, she has no doubt. You come home, because you always do, and even if you’re often late, your hands cupping her cheeks and brushing her skin feel all too familiar, achingly soft against her storming heart. And she tells herself, Everything is okay. She loves me. And even if she knows you’ll do the same thing tomorrow, Shenhe will wait for you, because you tell her that you love her, you cook her favorite meals and you kiss her hair, and Shenhe watches you sleep in her arms, wondering if this is what it’s supposed to feel like when you love somebody.

.

Thoma figures you’re not alright, but he can’t exactly tell what’s worrying you. He senses you shifting in bed at night, eating less as the days go by, and your smile isn’t as big as he remembers it to be. Radiant, bright and so full, he hasn’t seen it in a while. It’s like you’re a shadow of who you used to be, dragging your feet and sinking under your own weight when he kisses your hair, rubs your back, a gentle expression on his face when he asks you, Is there something you want to talk about? You’re always quick to shake your head, drawing a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, like you’ve been caught doing something you’re not supposed to. You wrap your arms around his waist, press your cheek to his collarbone, feel him return the hug and embrace you with his warmth. Thoma feels like you’re so far away from him at times. Why are you hiding away from me? But he can’t bring himself to ask you. Instead, he cups your face with his strong hands, watches you lean your forehead against his, oblivious at the tears that are pooling behind your eyelids. And when you whisper, I love you, Thoma holds you tighter. No, I love you more.

If you enjoyed this, please consider liking or reblogging it <3!

You can check more of my writing on (this link!). Thank you!

[valeffelees]

WIP WEDNESDAY

g'morning. ☀️

thank you very kindly @hushed-chorus for tagging me bright and early today, it's seven o'clock for me and i am so fucking delighted to have started my day with SELKIE SIMON! 😭💞 and a big thank you to everyone who tagged me on Sunday, too, 'cause altho i didn't participate in SSS (🐍) myself this week, i really do love seeing what y'all are working on.

how many of y'all signed up for COTTA? 😄 i know posting isn't until September iirc, but i'm stuuupidly excited for it. i thought about signing up myself (and even went as far as to rough up a 1 000 word outline for a fic for it on Friday lmfao) but i feel a bit too nervous, i think. n e way, since Without Sun is still in that ✨ spoiler zone ✨ and very close to being finished, i thought i'd share a snippet from a different WIP today instead. it is a veryyy tropey 5+1 Things fic called Wonderful Life that follows Baz's POV from fifth through eighth year. 🫥

Moonlight pools across the shallow valley of Snow’s stomach. It fades softly from green back to blue as the silencing spell on the room wears out—not a second too soon—leaving the darkness behind chalky and thin. Baz isn’t sure what he was expecting. An explosion, he supposes. For Snow to go off like an H-bomb. All heat and fire and flat, blackening waves of power, so much power. The Power. Spilling out of him like he’s a cup left under a waterfall. Like he did during their fight with the chimaera at the start of the year. But Snow wakes sluggishly, moves slowly. Stares at Baz with dim, blinky blue eyes as he wipes the sweat from his chin and props himself up against his headboard. He draws a long breath in. Then, “You woke me up.” It isn’t a question. “You were having a nightmare.” “I always have nightmares,” Snow says, and his voice is tender and husky from sleep and strain. He furrows his nose. “What do you care?” Baz rubs his palms against the tops of his thighs, trying to press into the coolness of his own skin through the smooth Mulberry silk of his pyjamas. He can still feel Snow’s warmth in his fingertips. A clingy, feverish spiderweb. “I don’t,” he replies waspishly, “but I couldn’t very well sleep with you making a fuss all night, could I? You’ve been screaming. You should be grateful I didn’t choose to spell your tongue off instead.” “Oh.”  Snow lifts a hand to his forehead, probably looking for innocent curls to abuse. He’s always messing with them. Fluffing them up, combing them out. Pulling and tugging and twisting. His hair is always a bird’s nest by the end of the day, every spiral frayed apart like a thread of broken yarn. He thumbs at the centimetre-or-so of brownish fuzz above his temple. Baz wishes Snow looked bad with his head shaved, that his skull was a funny shape or something, but he doesn’t. He just looks like a boy. Younger, maybe. More like he did when they were eleven. (And it draws attention to the way his ears curve out a bit at the top.) (It’s frustratingly cute.)

happy today, and have a good week, remember to drink lots of water and rest when you need it and maybe listen to a kick-ass song or two.

Tag, you're it! @cutestkilla @raenestee @thewholelemon @larkral @artsyunderstudy @blackberrysummerblog @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @imagineacoolusername @ivelovedhimthroughworse

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @winterandwords to uh... talk about a WIP I guess? :D

I'll pass on this tag toooo... @starlit-hopes-and-dreams (as always <3) but I'm not sure who else, so if you feel like talking about a WIP, consider this an open tag.

Oh boy, which to pick. There are currently only 2 projects where the P in WIP actually stands for "progress" (for the others it stands for "procrastination".)

I think I'm gonna pick Till Death. It is the one I am currently obsessed with, and the only one I am writing, not editing.

Here's the blurb:

Finnian is a wandering healer down on his luck. When one of his patients dies, the village turns against him, beating him half to death and leaving him for thirst and scavengers to finish what they started.

Eilis lives deep in the forest, hiding from the world. When she finds him, impaled on a tree and barely alive, she can‘t leave him to his fate, even if it means upending the peaceful life she has built for herself.

As Finnian slowly recovers, days filled with quiet companionship make the prospect of him staying less daunting than either of them had expected. But he carries too many scars, and Eilis too many secrets, threatening to destroy their fragile relationship as the shadows of the past draw closer. When everything falls apart, will they save each other, or will the price be too high?

You see, in April I finished the last chapter of all my ongoing stories, which left me in a very weird mood. For 1,5 years I always had something to work on, and suddenly, there was nothing started. Sure, I had a few outlines, but nothing really called to me, with the added problem that for those, I have to figure out bullshit like politics. I needed something new. New chars I didn't know yet, a fresh story - and 🌟violence🌟 :)

I've been talking about wanting more gore with happy end, but sadly, existing OCs are so fragile, I can't even break all their bones without them dying 🙄 So it was time to fuck up another healer.

For a few weeks, I threw concepts against a wall like cooked spaghetti, grabbed whatever stuck, and then I just started. It's the first time in a year that I actually write a story without posting as I go. I can leave a little note "this sounds weird, fix later" or remember "shit, I forgot this injury" or change a name halfway in. I know. That's how a draft is supposed to work 😅

I'm at over 60k words, and it's looking good. There's a few 'first times' for me, a lot of things I love and a lot of things I am excited about. I have a rough outline of events still to happen that leaves me enough freedom to go wild. And wild I go; half of the scenes are gratuitous pain and suffering, and there will be more - but it's also a story of love and finding a place to belong. Which brings me to the next point:

I'm tired. Tired of feeling like I don't belong anywhere. Of having no genre and being "just whump" because it fits nowhere else. Of being "not enough whump" while still finding myself on every squick list.

So this one's written for a target audience of some very close friends - a target audience for which I don't have to write CWs at the top of each chapter, a target audience who doesn't grow bored at the first calm moment, a target audience who will call me a bitch while asking for more pain.

I love you, pocket friends 💜

Here's the start of the book (unedited, rip):

Finnian hated dealing with sick people.

Considering the fact that he earned his money with healing, that was rather unfortunate. If he didn’t want to starve to death, he had to grit his teeth and ignore the stench of sweat and blood while taking care of coughs and aches and fever.

Sometimes, he wished he had learned something else after it had become clear that this wasn’t the right profession for him. Then he wouldn’t be sitting here, explaining to a grown ass woman that when he had told her to keep the wound clean, that included keeping the bandages away from dirty water. And that yes, it fucking hurt, because now it was infected, and if she didn’t plan on losing a finger or two, she’d better keep her hand dry and clean this time. And that perhaps, just perhaps, that was a bit more important than cleaning the windows.

Unfortunately, he had not learned anything else, so he left the house half an hour later with barely enough coins in his pocket to make up for the supplies he had used. Most roots and herbs he could gather himself, but bandages and tinctures didn’t grow on trees.

[arcadekitten]

How do you stay as motivated as you usually are? I... I'll be honest and I'm sorry for sounding so personal, but I've been going through some rough times, I can't even pick up a pencil to draw, and I've been feeling so unenergetic... Which sucks, I want to become as great as you, as I really do!!

I'm crazy /hj

I'm just very passionate about my characters and work!! It's no exaggeration when I say I am thinking about them every second of every day. I mean it with my whole chest, I am always thinking about them. They make me happy and so I'm always happy when I get to do stuff with them!!

HOWEVER!! That doesn't mean I'm immune to burnout either! I don't know you or what you're going through--maybe it's burnout, maybe it's a depressive episode, maybe it's something else entirely! etc--but when I'm feeling in a rut (which I actually have been this week, I'd say!), there's some things I like to try and do to make myself feel better. I don't know if they'll work for you, but it's worth a shot!

-Take dedicated breaks. Not just like, a 15 minute break. Like a whole day or 2 or even longer break. Of course if you have responsibilities like school and/or work you might not be able to take a break from those, but take a break from your creative endeavors for a bit. Play a videogame, watch a tv show or movie or video you want to/like, go outside if you're able to even if just to sit in the sun or listen to music! (Though it's winter in the nothern hemisphere, so maybe just dance around to music in your kitchen or something haha!) I often find that once I've been able to actually let myself have fun in other ways, I then want to come back to doing all my creative stuff and I feel more energetic about it!

-Be creative in other ways! Try to branch outside your normal mediums. If you draw a lot digitally, make something traditionally! If you usually illustrate, try playing with something like clay or strings or building blocks! Cut apart magazines and try to make collages! Of course, this isn't always accessible to everyone, especially if you need to spend money to buy some of this stuff. But even if it's as simple as filling a notebook page with doodles, it's still worth doing! The MOST important part of this though is to do it for yourself--do not worry about how the end result will come out, do not worry about sharing it to other people. You can later on if you want to, but you need to go into it knowing that your goal is to HAVE FUN! not to make a successful or consumable product.

-Draw what you want to draw. It's not secret that my most popular games are games like INMIMB and Crowscare. I could probably be attracting a lot more attention on that stuff if I drew those characters more. But Mary and Reggie are my favorite subjects to draw, so that's what I draw! And when I do that, it makes art feel like not-a-chore, but something to be enjoyed! When making my games, I have to make a lot of art for them too! Sometimes I can choose between getting a new cutscene image done, or drawing an idea I just really want to draw. And sometimes choosing the latter is rewarding because I had fun drawing it and then I can come back to the cutscene image satisfied! Draw the things you like and it will help remind you why art is so fun! Hope this isn't too long of a read! Keep your head up, champ! Just because you're not where you wanna be now doesn't mean you'll never get there! I believe in you, but most importantly believe in yourself!