#bitchin replies

[bitchin-tubs]

Your version of Millie is, in definition, the perfect Ring of Wrath country girl. It's so wild and adorable! and her colors are great, in addition to the pompous and beautiful texture of her hair.

Thank you!! I’ve got special love for Millie since she’s overlooked in the canon material and I redesigned her both to fit her playful personality and Wrath background

Apologies for the lack of colors but her skin is a deep dark red while her clothes got more earthly tones. For my version of Wrath imps her horns are much thicker, she has a colored iris and has extra spikes in her chest, hips and tail.

Funny enough I find this hairstyle much easier to draw than the canon version, the original has so many individual strands and then include the details in her rips, white spots, etc she’s almost as tedious to draw as Blitzø. And then considering she’s black coded I wanted to reflect it in the few human features seen in imps.

She’s rather bubbly for her Rings typical nature but has a healthy crave for blood which she can proactively channel into her job now that she’s moved out of her hometown

I also love the idea that she picks up friends easily, even moody Loona has warmed up to her and is typically gossiping with her in their breaks which, even through Millie doesn’t participate much, highly appropriates how open the hellhound is with her

[amischiefofmuses]

Sometimes I wish I could have some chill because I'd be able to multitask so much better. Plan on making a new blog header since the old one is hot garbage and could be watching the old x-men animated series while doing it,,,, except I've been writing notes on the episodes to help me develop gambit (and eventually nightcrawler) and I can't do that while photoshopping. Sigh.

[wraithlafitte]

even it up

pairing: dean winchester x f!reader

CONTENT: violence (hunting), graphic descriptions of injuries and repairing them, SMUT, unprotected piv, dean might have a pain kink (or a competency kink), praise (m!receiving), blowjob, riding, (reckless) choking, edging (m!receiving), begging, biting, overstimulation

word count: 4.7k

a/n: part 2 to bitchin'. sorry it took so long! i got busy with schoolwork, but the semester's almost up so we'll be back to our regularly scheduled programming soon. thanks for your patience!

Silence filled the rental car as you and Dean drove to the location you'd tracked the missing vampires to. You had woken up tangled together, naked, dried bodily fluids a stark reminder of how far you'd fallen. You hadn't said a word to him all morning, and even Dean was devoid of his usual quips. At least you seemed to agree: last night was a mistake, and shouldn't happen again.

You parked the car in an unmarked, cracked parking lot a few blocks away from the abandoned house. Dean was out the door before you pulled the key from the ignition, rushing to the trunk to grab his weapons. You sighed and went after him, slamming the door behind you.

You stopped to the side of the trunk. "Dean."

"What," came his gruff reply from under the trunk lid. The sparse weeds growing through the pavement were suddenly very interesting.

"We should talk-"

Dean slammed the lid of the trunk, causing you to jump, and tossed you a machete, which you caught easily despite being startled.

"Let's just get the job done," he said, his face hard and unyielding as he made eye contact with you.

You looked away quickly, avoiding his stony gaze. "Fine," you mumbled. Those weeds sure were growing. Kind of how Dean had started to grow on you... persistent, despite the unforgiving terrain.

Shaking your head, you fell into step behind Dean as he started walking down the uneven sidewalk.

Your hands were deft as you picked the lock of the back door to the old, peeling green house. All the windows were boarded up, so you had no idea what was waiting for you directly behind this door, but if there was one thing you could count on, it's that if something did charge you, Dean would chop its head off. Not necessarily because he wanted to save you, but because he liked killing monsters. And you had a feeling that he had some anger he might want to take out on something deserving.

The lock finally clicked and you pushed the door open cautiously. It opened into a dirty mudroom, scattered with shoes and coats of all sizes and styles. Your stomach turned as you realized they must have belonged to victims.

Dean noticed it too. "Let's go," he said grimly and pushed past you into the building, machete held high.

You picked up your own machete from the ground where you had set it to pick the lock and followed Dean. He was quick, peeking past corners before whipping around and advancing down the hallways, pressed flat against the wall. You were less... dramatic about your caution, choosing to let him clear the way.

Dean stopped suddenly and threw an arm back, stopping you in place. For a second, you were distracted by the way his hand pressed back against you, fingers almost curling around your shirt, touching but not quite. A breeze through a broken window sent a wave of his Old Spice scent in your direction that almost overtook you. Then you came to your senses and slapped his hand away.

You peered past him to see what it was. You had come across a bedroom, in which three vampires were snoring away unwittingly. You recognized them from the warehouse.

Dean looked back at you and nodded, creeping into the room. You each went to a side of the bed and made eye contact over the sleeping monsters in front of you.

One, Dean mouthed, raising his blade.

Two, and you followed suit.

Three, and both of you swung. The blood of two vampires splattered the white sheets, and the third leapt up immediately, fangs descending. She stood on the bed, ready to pounce on Dean, when you pulled her legs out from under her. The vamp fell to the mattress, where you unceremoniously chopped off its head.

"Nice move," Dean muttered, wiping his blade and already walking towards the door. "Let's clear the rest of the house."

You checked the remaining rooms on the ground floor, while Dean hurried upstairs. You found nothing in the dilapidated rooms except some mice and rotting wood floors.

A loud pounding and scuffling sounded on the ceiling above you, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of metal hitting the floor. You turned and ran up the stairs two at a time.

Dean was locked in hand-to-hand combat with a vamp on the landing, his machete lying some distance away. Blood trickled down his temple. The ornate bronze candlestick the vampire wielded had a matching red stain.

The vampire hooked his beefy arm around Dean's neck and slammed him face first into the wall, shattering the glass on a picture frame that hung there. You seized the opportunity of having his back to you and rushed up behind him, hacking at his neck. Only his neck was so thick and muscular that your blade barely went through a third of it.

The vamp dropped Dean on the ground and slowly turned on you, your machete still stuck in its neck. Your eyes darted to where Dean's machete had fallen, and you scrambled backwards to pick it up, almost tripping on a rug in the process, but successfully retrieving it anyway. You brandished in front of you as you got backed into a corner, your last line of defense.

It had the audacity to laugh at you. "You think that's gonna work?" he taunted, bearing down on you and shadowing you from the meager sunlight coming through a window in an adjacent room.

In your periphery, you saw Dean rising from the ground, eyes fixed on the weapon stuck in the vampire's neck. You suppressed the urge to glance at him fully as he crept up behind the monster. He took hold of the machete handle and yanked.

It was no good. The vamp whirled on him, socking him in the jaw. You saw your chance. Dean was down for the count and the vampire had its back turned again. You ran up and swung with all your might in the opposite direction. The vamp's head rolled.

Dean looked up at you from the ground where he had fallen, panting hard. “You’re welcome,” he breathed heavily.

“For what? I saved your ass,” you reminded him, holding out a hand to help him up.

“If I hadn’t distracted it, you wouldn’t have been able to get it,” he said while standing, obviously trying to repair his ego.

You rolled your eyes and dropped his hand roughly. “Oh please.” You started down the stairs to head back to the car.

“At least we got them all now,” Dean commented, stomping down the stairs behind you.

You ignored him all the way back to the car and all the way back to the hotel as he continued to try to convince you that you hadn’t done all the work.

The sun was setting by the time you got back to the hotel, all shades of red and orange that reminded you of the blood you had spilled today. It reflected off the Impala, parked in front of the side door of the hotel. And it bathed Dean in a warm golden light that bounced off his freckled skin and made him look like he was glowing.

Ew, what am I thinking, you scolded yourself. He's just sweaty. He's a gross, sweaty man who you hate and never want to be intimate with again. He doesn't look sexy at all right now.

You were brought back to earth as Dean winced heavily while hauling his bag out of your trunk to transfer it to his car. His hand went to his ribs, tenderly feeling around for cracks.

"You should come inside so I can check you out," you said without thinking.

Dean looked at you incredulously. "Yeah, I bet you'd love to check me out, but I gotta go."

You rolled your eyes, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "Not what I meant. You're obviously hurt, let me take a look. I can patch you up better than you can yourself."

He threw his bag into the trunk of the Impala and slammed it shut. "Fine. If you'll let me leave after."

You prepared your first aid kit while Dean stripped off his top layers. You could have just gotten what you needed as you went, but you were preparing yourself for seeing him shirtless again... in the same environment that you'd fucked in last night.

You turned around, heart rate picking up. You were just making yourself nervous more than anything. You'd seen him shirtless thousands of times before. It's fine, it's normal.

And there he was.

Half-naked.

Sweaty.

Groaning.

Dean sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed, trying to look down his side, where deep red bruises were already formed. They were accompanied by a gash on his chest, presumably where the vampire's claws had cut into his skin as it tossed him around.

You kneeled in front of him and began examining his ribs, making sure to be gentle as you ran your fingers over each bone. Goosebumps rose on his flesh in the path of your hands. "Well, good news, nothing's broken."

Dean gave a pained sort of grimace-smile. "Great. So I can leave." He made to get up off the bed, but you held down his thighs.

"Not so fast," you said. "Let me fix up that cut."

"It's fine, really, I can do it myself," he protested. He met your determined gaze and slumped back.

"Fine. Make it quick."

You poured some antiseptic on a gauze pad. "This is gonna sting."

"I know, sweetheart, this ain't my first rodeo," Dean griped.

You gave him an expressionless look like I-am-so-done-with-you and pressed the soaked gauze to the cut. Dean hissed through his teeth, fingers tightening into the blanket beneath him. You wiped away the blood and the grime, revealing how deep the cut was.

"I'm gonna have to close this up," you told him. "It's deeper than I thought." You begin rummaging through the first-aid kit for the suture needle you knew was around somewhere. A hunter's first-aid kit was a little more elaborate than most.

You carefully threaded the needle, tongue poking through your lips, then looked up at him. "Ready?"

Dean's expression hardened and he grabbed the t-shirt he had been wearing, wadded up one end, and shoved it in his mouth.

Your brow furrowed in concentration as you wove the needle through his delicate skin, meticulously joining the two sides. You worked as quickly and as steadily as you could, painstakingly making sure to sew him up in a way that wouldn't scar too much. Dean did his best to keep quiet, occasionally grunting in pain, his face scrunching up around the shirt in his mouth.

You reached the end of the cut and adeptly tied off the thread, snipping the loose end off. Dean spat the chunk of t-shirt out of his mouth and tossed it to the side.

You made eye contact for a moment as you covered the wound site with a bandage, then Dean shifted his eyes to the side. "Thanks," he said after a minute.

"You sure you want to go? Why don't you rest one more night before getting on the road?" you asked softly, placing your hand on his knee soothingly. His leg twitched under your hand.

"I should go...." Dean protested half-heartedly, not making any move to get up. Did he want to stay?

"Got somewhere to be, Winchester?" you teased. Testing your theory, you rubbed his thigh a couple times. His eyes fluttered half-closed and he looked at you darkly through his lashes.

"Don't," he murmured, uncharacteristically non-combative. His hand crept around your wrist, holding your hand on his leg.

You looked up at him from your place between his legs. "You say one thing, but do another," you said softly. "What do you want, Dean?"

Dean bit his lip and let go of your hand, clasping his together in his lap and dropping his gaze to them. You waited a beat, then grabbed his hands, pulling them to your chest.

"Look at me, Dean," you commanded. His eyes flew up in surprise. "Tell me what you want."

His expression changed from surprised to irritated to aroused. He grabbed you by the shoulders.

"You."

You grinned and stood up to clamber onto him, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss, Dean's hands ghosting across your back and legs, helping you into his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him as close as possible as you made out and rolled your hips down onto his hardening cock.

Dean groaned and broke away. "Let me fuck you," he rasped, pupils blown.

A lovely mischievous idea occurred to you. You pouted. "You'll hurt yourself. Let me take care of you." You slid off his lap onto the floor and turned away, pulling your own shirt over your head. "Get comfortable on the bed."

In the fake gold plated mirror on the wall, you saw Dean look you up and down hungrily. Then he quickly stripped the rest of his clothes off and sat against the headboard. You slowly lowered your jeans, then your panties, being as teasing as possible, knowing he was watching.

"Come here," he barked finally. You turned to face him, bra still covering your breasts.

"So demanding," you breathed, but went to him anyway. You sat down on his thighs and looped your arms around his neck again, pulling him in for a kiss, which he swerved in favor of mouthing kisses into your neck and jaw. You moaned a little as he paid attention to a sensitive vein. Your hips almost involuntarily rolled forward, meeting his lower stomach.

His hands, which had just been resting on your thighs, squeezed harshly into the supple flesh of your hips. You yelped as he dug his fingers into the bruises he had left the day before.

"You said you would take care of me," Dean said snarkily, staring pointedly at his cock between you. You smirked and wrapped your hand around its base, admiring the reddening tip. You slowly squeezed your hand up from the base to the tip, and were rewarded with a thick drop of precum leaking out and dripping down the side. Dean huffed, a dark flush spreading across his neck and chest.

You scooted down his legs until your face was level with his crotch. Making teasing eye contact with him, you slowly stuck out your tongue and licked his cock from his balls up, flicking off the tip. Dean growled, his skin and gaze fiery.

"Quit'cher teasing," he slurred, tilting his head back to knock against the headboard.

You found significant pleasure in weakening him, and although you'd have liked to keep teasing him, you wanted to make him come undone. So you took his cock into your mouth, sucking gently on the fat head, savoring the salty taste of him.

"Fuck," Dean whispered, head still back, eyes closed. You swirled your tongue around a few times, then started lowering your head, taking him further and further into your mouth. He reached for your head but you caught his hand and held it down to the bed.

You raised your head, letting his cock fall from your mouth, a string of drool still connecting the two. "Trust me," you said, raising your eyebrow.

"I don't trust you as far as I can throw you," he groaned.

"Don't make me tie you down," you warned. "I will."

"I'd like to see you try- ngh!" You squeezed the base of his cock tightly and watched as it turned red and Dean squirmed beneath you, mouth agape and panting. He truly was a beautiful, lewd sight.

"Mind your stitches," you reminded him gently. "Lie still." You loosened your hold on his cock and began sliding your hand along it languidly.

Dean visibly relaxed, eyes fluttering open. You lowered your mouth back onto his cock, taking him all the way to the back of your throat and swallowing around him. Your eyes watered and stung, but the groan he let out was worth it. You repeated the process a couple more times, then pulled off and looked up at him. He regarded you darkly and lustfully as you grabbed his hand and brought it to the side of your face, allowing him to lace his fingers through your hair and grab a handful.

A handhold.

You nodded slightly and dropped your jaw, mouth waiting above his heavy cock. Dean's mouth slowly grew into a grin.

"Want me to fuck your face, huh? Guess that's one way you can help me out." He shoved your head down onto him. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat. "Fucking slut, letting a guy fuck your mouth just 'cuz you feel sorry for him." He began bobbing your head up and down. His grip on your hair made your scalp tingle.

You made a little moan of protest. It turned into the most obscene gurgling, gagging sound as he continued to use you like a human fleshlight.

You gripped his wrist and tugged his hand out of your hair so you could pull off of his cock. You looked at him through narrowed eyes. "I will stop."

"Yeah, right," Dean scoffed, out of breath. "You practically threw yourself on me."

You smirked, moving up to straddle him, and pinned his hand to the headboard. "I think you'll find that, both times, it was the other way around."

Before Dean knew what was happening, you ambushed him with a handcuff snapping around his wrist, the other side looped haphazardly on the bedpost. It didn't matter that it wasn't secure. He didn't have enough leverage to lift it over the tall post and free himself.

While he snarled, distracted, you trapped his other wrist in the same way. You smiled down at him sweetly when his angry face turned to you.

"I did warn you," you said, grinding down on his lap. "But I guess I should've known better than to give you any control. It was always going to come to this, wasn't it?"

"You bitch," Dean said through gritted teeth, straining forward against his restraints.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his neck, his jaw, his earlobe. "Just say the word if it's too much."

You felt him relax underneath you, then he nipped at your ear. "How weak do you think I am? Do your worst," he sneered.

You rose above him, triumphant. "Oh, I will, baby." You ground your wet core against his cock, still slick with your spit. He ground his teeth more, trying not to react. You threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged gently.

And oh, how beautiful it was that he let his head loll back, giving himself into your control, eyes fluttering shut. Then he seemed to snap to his senses and he opened his eyes, muttering, "Just ride me already."

"Patience," you whispered, and began kissing him. You kissed down his neck, across his chest (avoiding the stitches), down his stomach through the soft hairs that led back down to his pretty cock, laying on his stomach and leaving droplets of precum like dew in the hairs.

You blew softly across his length as you considered the best way to make him unravel for you. He let out a low groan, quiet and strained. You smiled to yourself and lowered your mouth back onto his cock, running your tongue lightly along the thick vein that ran up its underside, tracing the life-force that pulsated beneath his skin. He huffed softly in quick succession.

"Breathe," you murmured against his dick, and licked the tip gently, slo-o-owly. Dean made a pretty noise that was halfway a grunt and halfway a breathy sigh, and your pussy fluttered between your legs.

You clambered back up his body, your knees framing his waist as you hovered over him. His eyes were completely clouded by lust, an eager expression taking over his face. You took hold of his cock and lined it up with your body. His breath hitched in anticipation.

You cocked your head, smiling. "What do you say?"

Dean scowled. "Fuck you, I'm not begging."

"Oh, but you already have, Dean." You stroke his cock gently where it waits between your legs. "What's one more word?"

His eyes threatened to close against his will. He gritted his teeth, opened his mouth, closed it, sighed, and spoke. "Please," he whispered.

"Good boy," you praised, sinking down onto his cock slowly. You moaned loudly as you felt him fill you up again. It almost felt better now that you were taking your time with him. Dean moaned softly, arms finally relaxing in his bonds.

Your head dipped down and you kissed him. His mouth was soft and pliant against yours, not fighting, not working to dominate, and you had the fleeting thought that you had tamed him. You didn't know how, but in this moment, he was completely submissive. And you liked it.

You raised yourself up and drew off his cock until just the head remained inside, then slid back down slowly, like you had at first. Dean leaned forward, held back somewhat by the cuffs, to suck and press kisses to your breasts. You ground down on him, pressing his cock as far in as it would go until it ached, and your chest vibrated with Dean's responding groan.

"Please move," he begged hoarsely, hips twitching underneath you.

"Since you asked nicely," you breathed. You began rolling your hips against his steadily, watching as his pleasure flickered through his rugged features. It was a stark contrast to last night, when he had been scowling and making quips the entire time as he fucked you into the mattress. This was almost... loving. Or perhaps you were simply providing him a service. You did agree to take care of him, and maybe that's what he needed.

You reached up and unclasped the handcuff on Dean's left hand, somehow trusting that he would not go anywhere. His eyes flew open and his hand was on you like it was a magnet and your hip was the opposite charge. His hand massaged into the flesh of your hip, making a dull ache arise from the bruises of the previous night.

You looked into his eyes as both your moans filled the air. They were wide and asking, and since his hand was gentle on your body, and he had been on such good behavior, you released his other hand as well.

It was like a switch flipped. His right hand darted to your waist and dug in, the hand on your hip tightening as well as he took control of your movement. You yelped and he began pushing you faster, your thighs screaming with effort as you tried to regain control.

"Dean," you gasped, clawing at his shoulders.

He grinned, slamming your hips down on him until you were forced to fall against his shoulder. "You were too slow," he gasped between heavy breaths, the wind rushing from his lungs each time your hips met his.

You managed to push yourself back up, bracing your forearm against his throat. His gasps turned ragged as you cut off his air. His thrusts slowed as you regained control of him.

"Be good," you said harshly, catching your breath and narrowing your gaze. "Only good boys get what they want." Dean scowled as he realized you were parroting his words from the night before.

"Fuck you," he spat hoarsely, voice barely audible from the pressure on his vocal cords. You cocked an eyebrow and leaned a little heavier on his throat. His cock twitched inside you.

Letting up on his throat just enough that he could breathe, you picked yourself up and began fucking yourself on his cock again, this time fully in control as his hands just clutched at your hips. You swear he went bug-eyed at the renewed friction combined with his light-headedness.

You felt pressure build in your core as you watched Dean's face, red and straining, mouth hanging open as he gasped in a desperate bid for a full breath. All that came from his mouth were raspy moans and heaves. He seemed determined not to beg still. You supposed he had been faking before. That wouldn't do.

"Tell me when you're close, baby," you purred in his ear as you began rubbing your clit, the sensation causing you to clench around him tightly. You readjusted the arm on his throat so he could speak.

"I'm close," you continued. "If I come on your cock, can you take it? Or will it be too much?" You pouted in mock pity. Dean was barely listening, eyes rolled back in his head, mouth moving in something that might have been words, if he wasn't so pussy-drunk and oxygen-deprived.

The look on his face finally pushed you over the edge, and you fell on his mouth hungrily as your pussy spasmed around him, eating up his desperate whines and moans as they fell from his lips.

You didn't stop your pace, overstimulating yourself and building another orgasm while Dean... finally broke.

"Please," he gasped hoarsely into your mouth, teeth clashing against yours as he jerked forward, drawn towards you, needing to be closer and closer and closer. "I'm so close."

You smirked down at him and slowed drastically. He was going to feel everything you were subjected to last night. He whined and buried his face in your chest, hips wiggling in an attempt to thrust into you again. "What do you say?"

"I just did," he growled, scraping his teeth over your skin.

"You didn't," you said cheerily. "You know what you need to tell me."

He let out a drawn-out groan followed by what could be considered somewhat of a sob. "Fuck."

"That's not it," you chastised.

Dean gritted his teeth and looked up at you, meeting your gaze. But he couldn't hold it. "I need to come," he whispered, eyes dropping. "Please make me come."

You resumed your last pace, touching yourself and clenching down on him as your body reacted to the feelings. Dean let out a broken moan as you leaned on his throat again. "Fuck- fuck-" he gasped against your skin, more his mouth just forming the words than speaking, hot and wet and open. His entire body tensed and he stopped breathing for just a moment-

And then he came inside you, shuddering and digging his nails into your hips so tightly you thought you might bleed. You didn't slow until you were following him, wringing every drop from his spent cock as he begged you to slow down in half-human sounds. You didn't slow until you were overstimulating yourself too, and he was straining against your arm, all but crying as his face contorted, all gritted teeth and tense muscles and red cheeks.

At last, you seated yourself fully on him and just stayed there, finally un-obstructing his airway. Dean's hands fell limply to your sides as his chest heaved, panting heavily and looking at you with a glazed expression as his cock jerked weakly inside you.

You made a quick scan of his injuries. Nothing had burst or ripped. He was catching his breath. Satisfied that he was physically okay, you smirked down at him.

"Now we're even," you told him slyly, dragging yourself off of him and laying down beside him.

"Fuck you," he croaked.

You smiled and nipped at his jaw. "Think you better just stay the night, wouldn't want you to drive like this."

Dean hesitated, then decided to take the bait. "Like what?"

"All weak and worn out," you said sympathetically. "Driving tired from a good fucking is the same as driving drunk, you know."

He let out a sharp chuckle. "I don't think that's how the saying goes."

"Really?" you asked sweetly, propping yourself on one elbow to look at him. "Could've sworn it was something like that...." You pretended to think.

"I'll stay," Dean sighed, snaking his arm around you and pulling you into his side. "If you promise we can do this again before checkout."

"I don't know," you said. "We might sleep too long. We might have to take it out to the car."

Dean shivered at the thought of fucking you in his Impala. "I guess that wouldn't be so bad."

[goo-goo-for-goggins]

Joy Ride

Lee Russell x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI! PWP, dirty talk, pet names, no use of Y/N, degradation, begging, unprotected sex, creampie; this is literally just smut lol

first time writing in this fandom, not proofread! I just needed to get this out of my brain lol so the ending kinda sucks but just roll with it 😉

divider @/firefly-graphics

You hate his smug face and his asshole attitude, but regardless, you still find yourself back at his place. The house is a blur as Lee leads you to his bedroom. The hot, biting kisses he drags down your neck on the way there makes slick pool in the gusset of your panties. 

“Oh, sweetheart, is this all for me?”

His shit eating grin widens when you gasp— his fingers sliding up your skirt to cup your hot mound.

“Fuck off,” you bite out through clenched teeth, eyes fluttering as he slowly pets your pussy through your soaked panties. 

“No can do,” he murmurs, hazel eyes flicking up to watch your expression. “‘sides, this sweet little pussy is just dripping for attention.”

Whining in the back of your throat, your hips rock forward when he slips his hand past the band of your underwear to drag his fingers through your wet folds. Reaching up, you grab onto his shoulders to keep grounded. 

“I hate you so much,” you pant.

“You might, darlin’,” Lee smirks, fingers circling your swollen clit, “but this fat cunt sure don’t seem to. Look at her, she’s gushing for me.”

More slick leaks down your thighs as he teases your pudgy bud. Your nails sink into his shoulders in retaliation, and he only laughs. 

“Always bitchin’ at me like you ain’t fucking gagging for my dick,” he coos. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

You shake your head no in reply, and he presses you down onto the bed. Your skirt pools at your waist when Lee rucks it up, showing off how wet your panties have become. Without any preamble, he hurriedly undresses you, tossing your clothes aside until you’re completely naked. 

“Well, the cat may have got your tongue, but this pretty kitty’s ‘bout to get mine,” he chuckles and kneels down.

You moan softly as he licks a broad stripe up your slit. With another smirk, he kisses across your cunt to bite at the crease of your thigh. Hissing, you glare down at him, an insult on the tip of your tongue, when he buries his face in your glistening pussy, making you toss your head back with a cry. 

“Where’s your smart mouth now, slut?” He murmurs against your clit, tongue slowly circling the soft bundle of nerves. 

“Oh, s-shut up,” you moan, hands reaching down to tangle in his hair. 

He grunts and licks up the slick leaking down your thighs before nuzzling your cunt to lap at your hole. 

“Taste so good,” his muffled voice causes vibrations that make your toes curl. “Mmm, could eat your needy pussy all day.”

“Lee, please,” you hump against his mouth, eyes locked on his blown out gaze.

He hums, and the vibrations make your clit throb—more slick dripping onto his tongue. The thick muscle slides in and out of your hole before he licks his way back up to your clit, softly sucking the swollen bud into his mouth. Your thighs tremble as his tongue swirls around your pudgy clit before sucking it gently. 

“So good,” you whimper, thighs falling open as far as they can go. “Lee, please.”

Spearing his tongue, he fucks your pussy until sloppy, wet sounds fill the room. With his hands grabbing underneath your knees, he shoves your legs up to your chest. Pulling back, you moan as he spits on your cunt, followed by him burying his face against your soaked pussy. His rough stubble makes you whine and pant while he licks and sucks at your pussy. 

“So fuckin’ wet,” he smirks, pulling back to finally shed himself of the rest of his clothes. 

He strokes his cock to take the edge off, and your mouth waters at the precum beading at the tip. With a groan, he notches the tip against your hole and glides the fat head up to smack against your clit. He presses his hips flush against you, and you whine from the feel of the blood hot skin of his cock pulsing against your pussy. 

“Gonna ask me nicely?” He slaps his cock against your cunt, the wet plap plap plap driving you wild. 

“Look how deep I’m gonna be in this slutty pussy,” his voice murmurs low, conspiratorially, making your nipples ache.

He uses his thumb to press his tip down against your skin as your bleary eyes take in how far his cock will be inside your wet cunt. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whine. 

With a mean chuckle, he glides his cock along your pussy, sliding across your pudgy bud to grind the head against your sensitive clit until you’re whining—dripping more slick onto his sheets. Pressing his cock into your pussy, he laughs as you moan loudly. 

“Let me in, sweetheart,” he coos mockingly.

Leering down at you, he rocks his cock another inch into your clenching hole. 

“Pussy’s so tight, honey,” his condescending tone only makes you wetter. “Almost like you don’t even want it.”

“I-I can take it,” your voice hitches, and it makes him smile all sugar sweet. 

“I bet you can, but I’m gonna make damn sure it does.”

Your walls clench down on his dick, making his hips stutter. His eyes darken, pupils swallowing up the hazel, and he pulls completely out. 

“How about we make it a little easier, hmm?”

Not letting you answer, he flips you over onto your stomach, one palm pressing down in the middle of your back and the other gripping your hip to raise your ass up. Sliding his dick in, he bottoms out with a loud groan as you claw at the bed. 

Gasping, you press your ass backwards, working more of Lee’s thick cock into your dripping pussy. 

“Hurts,” you slur, nails digging into the plush sheets, “it’s too deep.”

He growls and buries his cock to the hilt inside your cunt, making you cry out from the sudden stretch. Your walls clamp and pulse around his dick while you catch your breath.

“Yeah?” he whispers into your ear, making you shiver all over. “Thought you could take it? C’mon, darlin’, where’s that fucking attitude now?”

“Lee,” you whimper, pussy walls fluttering around his thick length as he slowly ruts into you.

“Goddamn,” he moans, “who knew all you needed was me pounding this soft pussy t’get you to shut your fucking mouth.”

He groans and pulls halfway out before bullying his dick back into your sopping wet hole. 

“Fuck,” he bites your shoulder, teeth digging into your skin, “tight fucking pussy. Made for me, ain’t ya, honey?”

“Uh huh,” you gasp out, voice raspy as Lee pounds your cunt hard enough that your thighs shake. 

Shuddering, your body arches back like a cat in heat as Lee keeps thrusting his cock right against your g-spot. You squeal at the pleasure-pain when the head of his cock kisses your cervix, drool spilling from your lips as you heave in shaky breaths.

“Too deep, Lee,” you whine, tears beading your lash line. “S’too much.”

“Think you like how it hurts,” he murmurs in your ear. “You like how deep I can reach inside your wet cunt. Fuck, your slutty pussy’s gripping me so fucking tight.”

Your eyes roll back as your walls flutter around his throbbing cock, feeling cockdrunk while he grinds against your cervix, making your pussy squeeze him tighter and tighter. 

“Wanna cum,” you whine, tears beading your lash line. “Lee, please.”

“Aww, y’need me to make you cum?” He spanks your ass, making you clench down on him. “I’ve gotta do everything for you, huh? Poor thing. Well, if you ask me real sweet, I might help you out.”

“Please, Lee,” you whimper, completely swept up by the building arousal pooling in your core. “Fuck, please, make me cum, w’nna cum so bad.”

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls your back to his chest. You move your hands behind you both to clasp together behind Lee’s neck, body arching and allowing him to fuck your pussy even deeper. Your fingertips brush against his hair and he sighs. 

“You can do better than that,” he nips your ear, dragging one hand up to loosely wrap his long fingers around your neck as his other hand hovers over your clit. “Beg for it, you little slut.”

“Please, please, please,” you chant under your breath, walls sucking his dick back in every time he tries to pull away. 

He groans, fingers teasing across your slippery clit. Your pussy clamps down on his dick while he softly rubs the bundle of nerves.

“Can be such a good girl when you wanna be, huh?” His lips brush the shell of your ear while he squeezes your throat. 

He continues to rub your swollen clit until you’re digging your nails into his neck, whimpering while you cum all over his cock, orgasm making your brain complete mush. Ears ringing so loud, you don’t even hear as Lee curses against your neck, hips snapping against your ass before burying his cock deep in your spasming pussy. 

You moan brokenly as Lee pumps his cock inside your pulsing walls, using your pussy to milk rope after rope of thick cum until it’s dripping down your thighs. 

“So good for me,” he groans, hands smoothing over your sides and back, easing you down into the mussed sheets. “So fucking perfect, darlin’.”

You sigh, tired yet pleased, as Lee shifts until you’re both able to lay on your sides comfortably, hands skimming over your body. 

“Feels nice,” you mumble, eyes half lidded as you relax further into the pillow.

He hums, pulling up the sheets while you both relax in the afterglow. 

[gl6ss]

unnoticed

5 years earlier

"kageyama!! you didn't tell me oikawa had a sister our age!" hinata yelled. "yeah, i don't know much about her." he replied back.

3 years earlier

"i can't stand this tooru oikawas younger sister shit, it's so annoying. like for gods sake you graduated two years ago, you would think i'm my own person." yn ranted to her older brother.

"my beauty is remembered by all." tooru joked, earning a punch in the arm from his younger sister.

2 years earlier

"if you ever wanna come home you can. you can stay with me, is that what this is about? you don't wanna live with mom? come live with me, you don't have to leave." tooru spoke before he sent his sister off to london.

"i'll be fine, quit your bitchin'. i'll be back before you know it." yn reassured. "take my money." tooru shoved 60 dollars in her jacket pocket. "no!" yn protested, but before she knew it he was walking away from the gate.

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Prologue: Prom Night

Your best friend, Joel Miller, takes you to prom. The first chapter of Halcyon, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 3.7K

AO3

A/N: This fic is a modern no outbreak AU fic. All but this chapter will be set in 2022/2023

Austin, Texas 

May, 2008

“I can’t believe you still have the keys to the press box!” 

“Shhhh!” You hissed at your best friend as you climbed the stairs to the top of the stadium, the bottom of your blue satin prom dress clutched up around your thighs so you wouldn’t trip. “Just announce it so the whole school can hear why don’t you.”

“No one is over here,” you heard him roll his eyes. “Everyone is still at the dance there’s no one here to hear me. I just can’t believe golden girl Goldie didn’t return the keys…” 

“Shove it.” 

“Stealin’ shit,” he teased. 

“Joel…” 

“This is probably breaking and entering, you know,” he said cheerfully. “They can try us both as adults now since you caught up…” 

“Fuck you, Miller.” 

“Awfully adult language comin’ from that smart mouth…” 

You rounded on him, taller than him for a change from your perch a few steps ahead.

“Didn’t you just say they could try us both as adults now that I’m 18, too?” You raised your eyebrows at him. He rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure that means I can swear. And if you’re not careful and I’ll shove you down these stairs…” 

Joel scoffed. 

“They’d try you as an adult for that, too.” 

“Not once I testify about how annoying you are they won’t.”

He scoffed again. You turned back around and kept climbing the stairs. 

“This view had better be worth it is all I’m saying,” he said, sounding short of breath. 

“Oh quit your bitchin’,” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound breathless, too. “Which one of us is in heels?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

You made it to the top of the stadium and dropped the hem of your dress before selecting the large, utilitarian key from the keyring in your clutch, letting yourselves in. 

The press box was dark and so was the field below. You gathered your dress again and made your way to the windows, the city lights beyond casting the desk against the glass in a warm glow. 

“Damn,” Joel whispered, coming up alongside you and looking out at the view of the city. 

“Told you,” you said, smug. But you were awed, too.

From here, you could see the Capitol all but glowing in the distance, the skyscrapers lit up along the Colorado River beyond, the UT tower standing tall. 

“Never seen it without the stadium lights on,” you said quietly, looking out at the city. “Wanted to experience it at least once before I left.” 

“See why,” Joel said, serious for a change. You could feel his eyes on you. “Can’t deny that view.” 

You felt your cheeks get hot for a moment and Joel cleared his throat. 

“So,” his teasing tone was back. “Could you even tell it was me playing from up here?” 

“Oh sure,” you smirked, glancing at him for a second before pointing at the sideline. “You always rode the bench right there on the end…” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he elbowed you lightly and you laughed. 

“No, I could tell it was you,” you smiled up at him before looking back out at the field. He’d gotten so much taller since you’d first met him, shooting up half a foot over the span of a few months after you became friends in the first place. “Always head and shoulders taller than all the other jocks out there, spaghetti noodles for arms… Also the fact that you have a number on your shirt helped, you dork.” 

He snorted and you looked back over at him again, the way the light fell on his skin. It was almost like he was glowing, too, like he was made up of everything on the horizon in front of you. He turned to look at you, smirking. 

“Wanna drink?” 

The two of you perched on the desk against the glass, facing out toward the city. You bunched the restrictive skirt around the top your thighs so you could actually move and Joel loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar of his crisp white dress shirt before reaching into the pocket of his suit coat. He pulled out a flask wrapped in worn leather, the name Miller elegantly stamped into the front of it, and offered it to you. 

“Fancy shit,” you said, taking it from him. You took a swig, cheap rum burning as it went down. You handed it back to him. “Where’d you get it?” 

“It was my dad’s,” he said, looking at it for a second, his eyes tracing over the lettering before taking a drink himself. He flinched as it went down. “So was the rum, actually. Not sure what I’m gonna do once we burn through it all, my mom never buys the shit. Lucky for me that means she never checks it, either…” 

You laughed a little. He held the flask back out. You took it. 

“Yeah, that would not work in my house,” you said, taking a sip. “Even when we were living with my dad, my mom watched that shit like a hawk. Never had a chance. Now it’s just not allowed under her roof. That’ll be one perk to college, I suppose. Don’t have to dodge him and don’t have to hide the beer from her.” 

You passed it back. He took it and took a sip before he wrapped his arms around his knees in front of him and sighed. 

“So you’re really leavin’ huh?” He asked, looking over at you. 

“Yup,” you nodded. “Getting the fuck out of this damn place.” 

“So sorry to be such a let down,” he teased, but there was a hint of hurt in his voice. 

“Hey,” you looked over at him. “You know you’re the only thing I have here that makes life worth living, right?” 

“You’re just sayin’ that because I was willing to be your back up prom date,” he smirked. You rolled your eyes. 

You weren’t joking when you said that. Joel was, easily, the best thing in your life. The only thing you’d really miss when you moved away to go to college. 

When you’d moved across the city just before your sophomore year of high school, you’d expected it to be hell and you’d been right. The school you transferred to was cliquey and close knit. Everyone had known each other all their lives, they had their own groups and ways of doing things and you were an outsider, an interloper. 

Which would have been fine if they’d have just let you keep to yourself, but they weren’t content with that, either. One of the guys at school grabbed your ass as you stood at your locker your second day of class and a friend of his girlfriend saw it. The girlfriend decided it was far better to hate you, the new girl, than actually confront her shit head boyfriend and you were suddenly stuck bearing the brunt of her toxic relationship’s misery. 

That’s how you’d met Joel. This girl - fucking Hannah - had sicced her older brother and his friends on you. They had you pinned down against a stadium wall, your heart in your throat as you clutched your diary to your chest. 

“Like tryin’ to take shit that ain’t yours?” The biggest boy - more man, really - said as he crowded in toward you. “Maybe I should…” 

“Hey!” 

The new voice was surprisingly deep, you half expected a teacher to come running over. Instead it was a boy about your age, baby fat still on his stomach and cheeks, his curls messy. But he didn’t move like a teenaged boy, he moved like a grown man who knew how to bend the world to his will. The others seemed to recognize it, parting like water, giving him a clear path to you. 

“The fuck you doin’, Young?” He demanded. “Threatening some girl?” 

“Fuck off, Miller,” he snapped. “Not you business.” 

“Makin’ it my business,” the newcomer positioned himself in front of you. The first boy had a few inches on him and plenty of muscle but it didn’t seem to bother him. “Happy to make punching your fuckin’ face my business, too.” 

“You think just because…” 

“Think coach’ll let you play Friday if he finds out you were gonna hit a girl?” The boy cut him off. “Heard UT is already scoutin’, don’t think they’ll be interested in some jackass ridin’ the bench.” 

The older boy glowered at him but, eventually, looked over him to you. 

“Keep your hands off my sister’s boyfriend.”

You didn’t bother to fight him on the specifics of what happened. You weren’t sure you were able to speak to do it, anyway. Instead, you just nodded and clutched your diary tight to you. He nodded once, face stern, and stalked off with his posse, leaving just you and the other boy. He waited until he knew they were gone to turn to face you. 

“You OK?” He asked, looking you up and down. You just nodded again. “Good. You really go after Hannah Young’s boyfriend?” 

“No!” You said, your ability to speak almost surprising you. “I’m not going after anyone’s anything, he just grabbed my ass yesterday in the hall and…” 

The boy laughed. 

“I’m fucking with you, Goldie,” he smiled. “No one in their right mind would go after him. Bryce is a jackass and Hannah’s a dumbass. They’re a match made in heaven. I’m Joel.” 

You frowned. 

“Nice to meet you,” you said. “But my name isn’t Goldie…” 

“Be a hell of a coincidence if it was,” he smirked and nodded at your diary, the cover gold glitter with an elastic loop holding a matching pen. “But sure seems like you like the color well enough.” 

You looked down at the diary, your prized possession, the one thing that kept you sane. You wrote in it constantly, everything from your thoughts to what happened to you during the day to ideas for stories to poems. You filled up the notebooks that slipped into the gold cover in a matter of weeks, had stacks and stacks of them sitting in your closet at home. It had been the one thing you’d made sure you packed when leaving your dad’s house. 

You looked back at Joel and gave him your name and he nodded, like he was considering it, trying to figure out if it suited you. 

“You’re new,” Joel said after he’d apparently decided about your name. “Freshman?” 

“Sophomore,” you said. “Just moved.” 

“Me too!” He said, sounding a little excited. “Well, not just, we got here about 2 years ago now but feels like just. Everyone here has known each other since they were fuckin’ born. You get used to it.” 

Joel showed you how to get into the stands even when the main gates were locked and sat with you, telling you the basics about the school, figuring out that you’d moved into an apartment complex that was only about a five minute walk from his house, learning that you both were excited about the new Curtis and Viper movie coming out in a few weeks. 

“Have you watched the director’s commentary for the third one?” You asked. “It’s like that man thought they were making the next Citizen Kane, it’s hilarious…” 

“Miller!” 

Joel’s head snapped around to the field where a bunch of other boys in uniform were flooding out of the locker room and onto the turf. 

“You just itchin’ to go on tour?” 

“No Coach!” Joel said. 

“Then get your ass dressed!” The man yelled. “Move it!” 

Joel jumped up and waited for the coach to turn his back before turning back to you. 

“What’s on tour mean?” You frowned. Joel laughed. 

“He means runnin’ all the stairs in the stadium. His favorite punishment. If you wanna hang out for a bit, I can give you a ride after practice. I technically don’t have my license yet but I’m turning 16 in a few weeks and I already saved up for my truck and my mom’s so busy she’s just happy she doesn’t need to haul my ass around anymore.” 

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.” 

“Cool,” he smiled back. 

“Miller!” 

Joel flinched. 

“Yeah, I gotta move my ass or it’s gonna get chewed out. But I’ll see you in a bit, Goldie!” 

You watched him jump the railing at the base of the stands onto the track below, making you gasp and scramble to your feet to see if he was alright. But Joel was already jogging into the locker room when you made it to the end of the bleachers, like what he’d done was nothing at all. 

The two of you had been inseparable ever since. He dropped you off that night and, the next morning, you opened your front door to find him there, playing his steering wheel like a snare drum with his fingers, like the plan had always been to pick you up and drive you to school. Even when you started working at the school paper and Joel made it to the first string of the football team you saw each other every day. You didn’t knock when you came to his house, you just let yourself in, his mom calling you Dorada - golden in Spanish - and telling Joel to listen when you tried to get him to study. Your little sister, Anna, had Joel wrapped around her finger to the point that he had a stash of fun sized candy bars in his locker that he’d raid before coming to your apartment so he had one to present to her. 

Even when you started dating Steven, your now ex-boyfriend, you saw Joel all the time. Steven never seemed to like him much but, to his credit, didn’t seem threatened by Joel. 

Which made sense. You knew better than to think Joel was interested in you that way. You were certain he saw you like a sister, like family. You weren’t someone he could look at and want. He was Joel Miller. He was handsome and funny and scored the winning touchdown in the playoff game that sent your school to the final. Boys like that weren’t interested in the girls who spent all their spare time with their nose in a book and tracked the GPAs of the other top students in the class to know where she fell in the fight for valedictorian. You were lucky he was friends with you at all. It didn’t matter how you felt about him, you weren’t about to press your luck. 

But when Steven dumped you two weeks before prom and you showed up outside Joel’s last class with eyes that were red from tears, he jumped up, grabbed his backpack and just gave his teacher a wave before slinging his arm over your shoulder and guiding you to his truck. 

“You know what’s so stupid?” You sniffed, perched on the gate of his truck as you poked at the Blizzard you’d gotten at Dairy Queen but couldn’t bring yourself to eat much of. “I think I’m more upset about the fact that now I can’t go to prom and I got the best dress for it. I know it’s insane but I was going to actually look kinda hot and I’ve never gone to a dance with a guy and…” 

“Why can’t you go to prom?” Joel frowned, reaching his long, red spoon into your ice cream cup. You rolled your eyes and tilted it his direction. 

“Because you can’t go by yourself,” you said. “That’s pathetic. Especially not when you just got dumped.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Joel shrugged. “My mom keeps sayin’ that she thinks I could wear some of my dad’s old shit now, he had at least one suit.” 

“I’m not about to ask you to cramp your style with the ladies by being my prom date,” you rolled your eyes. Joel had gone out on at least one date with every hot girl in your year and a few of the junior and sophomore girls, too. The longest anyone had lasted was Carly Smith, who held the prestigious title of Joel Miller’s almost girlfriend for 10 days and the three class periods before lunch when he told her he wasn’t interested before asking you if you wanted to run to Whataburger. 

He scoffed. 

“Not interested in any of them,” he said. “Setting my sights a little higher these days.” 

“College girls?” You teased. 

He laughed, reaching his spoon over for your ice cream again. You tilted it in his direction and shook your head a little as you did. 

“Somethin’ like that,” he said. “C’mon. Let me take you. It’ll be fun and you can still wear the fancy dress.” 

You ate another bite of your Blizzard, thinking for a second as you sucked on the spoon, the plastic edges sharp on your tongue. 

“Alright Miller,” you said eventually. “Let’s do this thing. You and me at prom.” 

“Gonna be fun, Goldie,” he said. “Promise.” 

He was right. It had been fun. Really, really fun. Honestly, way more fun than you’d ever have with Steven, anyway. Joel picked you up in his suit that was a little big around the middle but actually fit his broad shoulders and long legs. He’d gotten his truck washed and he’d even vacuumed the inside and he came to your door with a corsage in a box that was still cool from being kept in his fridge until he came to get you. Your mom took pictures of the two of you together and you hoped you didn’t look as stupid as you felt when you posed with your hand on Joel’s chest, tucked against his side like a real date while your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was threatening to burst from your ribs. Your dress was long and sleek and fit you just right, highlighting the womanly curves you’d grown into through your teenaged years. Your mom styled your hair so that it was elegant but still framed your face just so and you spent an hour working on your makeup. 

“Steven is gonna feel like a total fucking dumbass,” Joel said as he drove you to the hotel near campus where prom was being held. “You weren’t kidding about that dress.” 

You laughed. 

“You clean up pretty good yourself,” you said and he winked at you, making your heart flutter. 

The two of you danced and laughed and you took silly pictures next to the over the top decorations with the disposable camera you’d bought just for the occasion. 

But as prom wound down, Joel talked you into slow dancing with him, his hands warm and soft besides the callus he had from playing guitar and football on your exposed back. You had to fight to stay focused on the fact that it was Joel. He was your best friend, not your boyfriend. He was slow dancing with you because that was the nice thing to do when you took someone to prom, not because he was interested in you. Even though his eyes were on yours in a way that didn’t feel like was just to be nice and the way his fingers sank into your skin made it seem like it was more than just being nice. 

“Wanna get out of here?” He asked quietly as the song wound down. 

You tried to think of a place you could go that wouldn’t just be his truck or wouldn’t involve the two of you humoring Anna or his little brother, Tommy. For some reason, you wanted to be with just Joel. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Think I know a place.” 

You looked at the Capitol dome in the distance, the soft glow of it, and sighed. 

“You don’t have to leave, you know,” Joel said quietly after a moment. “Could just go to UT. Shit, we could even be roommates, I’ve already got a job lined up…” 

“If I stay I’m just going to get swallowed up by my mom’s needs and Anna’s and my dad is going to keep trying to fuck everything up…” you sighed. “And do you really think you’re going to move out? Or are you going to end up basically living at home so you can help your mom with Tommy?” 

“I’d move out if it was with you,” he said.  

You scoffed. 

“Sure you would,” you said, incredulous. “Joel, I love you, but we both know you’d be right back at home the second Tommy acted out at school again.” 

Joel sighed. 

“He’ll get his shit together eventually,” he said. “It won’t be forever. Stay.” 

“I can’t just be in one place my whole life,” you said softly, looking over at him. “I need to try to be someone somewhere that isn’t here.” 

He sighed heavily.

“I know,” he took another drink. You scooted closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath as you just looked out the window a bit longer. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you,” you said softly after a few minutes. 

“You’ll be fine,” he waved you off. “You’re the smart one, the one with the real skills and shit. You were always going to do great things, Goldie. Just liked being close enough to you to see you do it.” 

You tilted your head just enough to see that he was looking at you, watching you, his brown eyes glistening in the hazy light of the city. You realized, suddenly, that you were close to him. Very close, so close that your nose brushed his cheek when you lifted your head from his shoulder, your eyes still on his. Your heart was pounding. 

“Joel…” you breathed. 

Your heart kept pounding as your best friend kissed you. It didn’t stop pounding for a while.

A/N: Welcome to Halcyon! This is a totally different kind of Joel Miller and I'm so excited to share him - and Goldie - with you all.

You can expect weekly updates as we watch these two try to navigate all the curve balls life throws their way.

Thank you thank you thank you for being here! Follow my updates account here and subscribe to get alerts when new chapters are posted.

I can't wait to go on this adventure with you all. Love you!!

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 6

Yes, my darlings, you read that right. I promised I would get back on this one once I was done with In the Midnight Hour and admittedly I did get side tracked for a week doing the Valentine’s fics, once that was out of my head I have written almost 7000 new words for this story. I went from half way through this one to a few hundred words into part 10. So yeah. Expect to see this one updated fairly regularly. I haven’t given up on Star Child I’m just trying to decide which direction the next part should take.

Also on the tagging, I HAVE REACHED MY HARD AND FAST LIMIT OF 50. I love the response this story has gotten. I do. I love you all. I love every reply, like, and reblog. It brings me so much joy, you don’t even know. But tagging is hard for my ADHD brain. I have gone up from 20 to 30 and finally 50 as my system improved but I think if I do any more than that I’ll go insane. So any future tagging requests will be ignored. Sorry.

The best way to keep update on these stories is follow me and set me on notifications. I rarely do a lot of reblogging these days (too busy churning out stories like whoa), so more often then not a post will be a story. I try to post at least once a day (some times twice if I’m trying to rush through the posting a bit like I did to make sure the Valentine fic got out in time without making people wait on Vamp!Eddie), just never at set time.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

*

They all met up by the fountain in the middle of the mall. Eddie was bouncing on the balls of his feet nervously.

“You sure he’s going to come?” Jeff asked.

Eddie tried to peer around the crowd. “That’s what he said.”

And then they spotted him. He was in a nice red sweater with a white polo underneath and fitted jeans. Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth in appreciation.

But then he noticed the gaggle of children following behind him. And what a gaggle it was. It consisted of Red, his new best friend, another girl with a thousand yard stare. The tall black kid must be the Sinclair boy. The remaining three were also very interesting. There was the short curly haired kid with no front teeth. The last two were both dark haired, but the one on the right was darker. Hair and attitude, judging from the rounded shoulders and down cast expression of the other boy.

Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I’m late. Dustin called asking me to take him to the arcade, only when I told him that I was going to the mall, suddenly they all wanted to come.”

“And then I got roped into this because they wouldn’t all fit in Steve’s car,” a voice called from the back.

The person jostled his way to stand next to Steve. Jonathan clasped Steve on the shoulder. “I gave Will money to call me when you’re done so I can pick up him and El. Make sure he doesn’t spend it on the gumball machine.”

Steve nodded. “Thanks, man. I’ll see you later.”

Jonathan nodded and waved goodbye to everyone, but especially the timid one. Which Eddie figured must have been Will.

“Your children, I presume?” Eddie asked, eyeing the thirteen year-olds warily.

“Yup,” Steve said with a put on expression. He pointed to each of them in turn. “That’s Dustin, Mike, Will, Lucas, Max and El.”

Eddie did the same to his friends. “I’m Eddie, these are Jeff, Gareth, and Brian. Or collectively, the band Corroded Coffin.”

“That’s bitchin’,” El said with a smile.

Steve ducked his head as he tried not to laugh.

“Hell yeah, it is,” Jeff said, taking an immediate liking to her.

“All right,” Steve said, turning to the kids. “You are to stay in pairs at the very least. And you know who your partners are. Will and Mike, Max and El, and Dustin and Lucas. Regardless of what you are doing, you will meet up here at 2pm. No later. I have plans with these guys at three and I’m not going to be late because of you guys a second time.”

There were a lot of eye rolls but everyone agreed to meet at the fountain at two.

Once they had left, Steve turned back to see that all four of them were struggling not to laugh.

“No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Go ahead and laugh. Because fuck knows it’s hilarious.”

So they promptly burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” Gareth wheezed. “It was like watching ducklings.”

“Yes!” Eddie agreed. “My dude, I hope you are charging their parents for this.”

Steve shrugged. “It’s not like I need the money.”

They all just shook their heads.

Eddie clapped his hands together and rubbed. “Right, Stevie, this is how it is going to go. You’ll have one hour to get the most outrageous gift. Ten dollar maximum.”

“Each person or total?”

“However you want to swing it,” Jeff said. “But forty bucks is a lot.”

Steve nodded. “I guess my one concern is that I don’t know you guys very well and I don’t want to offend anyone.”

“So take Eddie with you,” Gareth said. “And then for the last ten minutes split off to buy something for each other.”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, “that could work. What do you say, Stevie?”

Steve shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

Every one but Steve set a timer on their watches. Steve’s wasn’t a digital one, so he couldn’t.

“On your marks, get set,” Brian said. “And go!”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand and suddenly he was being dragged along.

Steve giggled. “Where to first?”

“We are going to Suncoast,” Eddie said with a grin. “It’s the best place for all your metalhead needs.

“Lead on, MacDuff!” Steve said with a grin.

Eddie finally let go of Steve’s hand as they neared the store.

“I found out in drama that a lot of the sayings and words we use today are because Shakespeare couldn’t find the right word and made them up,” Steve said nervously.

“Wait, really?” Eddie asked, coming to a complete stop. “Like what?”

“Well, ‘Lead on, MacDuff’,” Steve said, “just for starters. It’s from Macbeth. Green eyed-monster. Just loads that I can’t think of off the top of my head.”

Eddie stood there for a moment blinking. “If they had taught that in English, I think would pay more attention.”

Steve laughed. “I know, right?”

They entered the store and everything had a dark red neon glow to it and it was clearly separated between the movie part of the store and the music part of the store. It was almost jarring. The movie part was dark like the inside of a movie theater. The music part was well lit and almost sterile white in its design.

They wandered around the music section. And they stopped by the minuscule instrument section. It had mostly accessories but also a couple of guitars. Mostly acoustic but one or two electric as well.

“This is pitiful,” Steve said staring at the selection.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, dude,” Eddie said. “There is an actual record shop with a full on instrument section. But that is not the point of this.”

Steve stopped by the drumsticks. “Gareth is the drummer right?”

Eddie nodded.

“I’ve been to a couple of concerts and I saw that the drummer had a bucket of sticks...”

“Are you asking if you should get Gareth more drumsticks?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded. “Go for it.”

“What’s his favorite color?” Steve asked.

Eddie frowned, but Steve pointed to the drumsticks on display and the had all sorts of different colors and patterns.

“The black ones with the flames on them, for sure.”

Steve grinned and picked them up. They got a couple more things here, but it was time to move on.

They hit up the stationary store, the weird little shop that sold incense and little Egyptian figurines, and Hammond’s Toys.

As they were passing Shapiro’s on their way to Hammond’s Toys, Steve found his gift for Eddie. It took every bit of will power not to just rush back and grab it, afraid it would be gone by the time he got back.

Eddie came up to him. “All right, Stevie. This is where we have to part ways. We only have ten minutes left and we need to get each other something, too.”

Steve smiled and nodded. He doubled back to Shapiro’s and quickly bought it. He raced to the fountain to be there first. He sat down on the edge of the fountain, his packages tucked under his legs so people wouldn’t steal them.

It wasn’t long before the others started showing up. Brian showed up first.

“How the hell did you beat me, man?” he asked as he sat down next to Steve. “I’m always the first to arrive.”

Steve blushed. “I got lucky.” He was practically vibrating with anticipation.

Brian eyed him suspiciously. “And you got a present for everyone?”

Steve pressed his lips together and nodded.

Gareth was the next to show up. “Now that’s just embarrassing. Being beaten by Brian is one thing, he’s a shopping guru. But Steve Harrington, too? However will I get over the shame?”

Jeff laughed from behind him, having just shown up himself. “You’ll live.”

Eddie was the last to arrive showing up exactly at the hour.

“Ooh,” Jeff teased. “By the skin of your teeth. Is Steve-o here really that hard to buy for?”

Eddie grabbed his knees, panting for breath. “No,” he huffed. “Just on the other side of the fucking mall.”

“So,” Gareth said turning to Steve. “Now for the next phase of our little get together. We meet up at my house at three and exchange gifts and play a one-shot.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “Is that like a D&D thing?”

“Yup!” Brian said gleefully rubbing his hands together. “It a story meant for a single day instead of multiple days like a campaign.”

“Yeah,” Jeff said. “We roll up quick character that are meant to die and just go to town no real rules. Just fun.”

Steve nodded. “Sure I could do that.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got twenty minutes before the kids show up.”

The other three backed away slowly.

“Yeah,” Jeff said, “we aren’t going to wait for that mob.”

“Oh, hell no,” Brian agreed. “I’m sure they’re great kids and all but I have three younger siblings, if I wanted chaos, I’d hang out with them.”

“Middle schoolers, man,” Gareth said, “are the plague of the earth. See you at three.”

Steve laughed. “Agreed on all accounts. I see you at Gareth’s. I’ll get the address from Eddie.”

The three boys walked off, shoving and pushing each other, laughing as they made their way to the exit.

“So what about you?” Steve asked. “You going to run before the hoard gets here?”

Eddie laughed. “I should. Leave you to the wolves.” He grinned. “But nah. I want to properly meet the kids that Steve the pied piper of Hawkins has taken under his wing.”

Steve blushed. “I wouldn’t call myself that. They barely listen to me.”

Eddie’s face softened. “I’m sure that’s not true. I bet the little sponges are just soaking up everything you tell them.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “That would explain the language problem.”

Eddie tilted his head to side. “What language problem?”

“They swear like sailors.”

Eddie blinked a couple of time before he burst out laughing. “Having trouble not swearing around kids, Stevie?”

“You would be swearing too if you had to deal with them all the time,” he said with a shake of his head.

“So why do you do it?” Eddie asked.

Steve huffed out a sigh and kicked the side of the fountain with the heel of his foot. “Most of them don’t have great home lives. Except the Sinclairs, of course. Especially when it comes to caring adult men. I know what that’s like, so I try to be that for them.”

“Huh.”

Eddie didn’t have much time to comment on that because the first of the terrors had arrived.

The two dark-haired boys that seemed joined at the hip.

“Hey, Mike,” Steve greeted, “hey, Will. Did you already call Jonathan to come get you?”

Will nodded.

“Good,” Steve said. “Eddie here DMs for his friends.”

Both heads turned to him in shock.

“There is no way,” Mike said. “Steve would never be friends with someone who likes D&D.”

“Hey!” Steve protested. “I’m friends with you assholes!”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Fine. Steve wouldn’t be friends with people his own age that play D&D.”

“Mike...” Will protested, speaking up for the first time. “What’s your favorite class?”

“Bard. It’s kinda self-insert type of thing,” Eddie said. “I play guitar, so I get the class. Um...second favorite would druid. I have a twelfth level druid named Kilmar Goatfiend in a campaign my club is doing right now.”

“You have a D&D club?” Dustin asked coming up from behind Will and Mike. “No way!”

“Yep!” Eddie said with pop of his lips. “The Hellfire club. Lenny Fitzpatrick is president this year. Next year, it’ll probably be Janice Montgomery.”

“You have a girl in your club?” Lucas asked, think of his sister Erika.

“Girls don’t play D&D,” Mike growled.

Steve hit him on the back of the head. “Oi! Your sister played. She’s the one that taught you. Show her some respect.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Nancy Wheeler plays D&D.”

“Did,” Will clarified. “She’s the one that gave me my wizard robes to DM in.”

“You dress up?” Eddie asked. “That’s so cool.”

Will blushed.

Just then girls arrived both of them eating ice cream cones.

Dustin spotted them and gasped. “You got ice cream cones?” He turned to Steve. “Why didn’t we get ice cream cones?”

Steve stood up and put his hands on his hips. “Because they saved their money and bought themselves ice cream cones?”

Max stuck out her tongue at him and El giggled.

“You better finish those up before you get into my car,” Steve said wagging his finger at them.

“Hey, I could take Max home,” Eddie said with a shrug. “I’m heading that way anyway.”

Steve looked at Max. “It’s up to you. You can go home with him or I could drop you off at Hopper’s and you and El can continue to hang out.”

Max thought about it for a minute. “I’ll think I’ll go home with Eddie and hang out with El tomorrow.” She turned to El. “Is that okay?”

El nodded. “I wanted to spend time with Will and Mike today.”

Mike blushed.

“What about you two?” Steve asked. “Where am I dropping you two off?”

Dustin and Lucas just shared a glance and shrugged.

“Well then you two can sort it out in the car,” Steve said and then turned to Eddie. “So what’s Gareth’s address?”

Eddie pulled out a pocket notebook and pen and scribbled out the address. “There you go, see you later, man.”

Steve took the piece of paper with a smile. “Do you always carry a notebook and pen with you wherever you go?”

Eddie grinned. “Sure, sometimes the muse will strike while I’m out and about so I need something to jot down lyrics or chord progressions as needed.”

“That’s sooo cool,” Mike said, a little star struck.

Will and Lucas looked over at each other and rolled their eyes. Eddie fought back a grin.

They split off, with Will, Mike and El, staying at the fountain to wait for Jonathan.

Part 7  Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19 Part 20  Part 21

@shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @garden-of-gay @anaibis @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @jinxjinn @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @dangdirtydemons @lovelyscot @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread

[runraerun]

leotards & sun-in

Written for the @harringrovemicroficandart challenge for September. The prompt was: ☀️Summer & Jealous💚

ao3 | rating: T (just for language) | length: 1k

summary:

Billy takes another puff of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out the window in a pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable.

“I saw you with her.”

“With who?”

“Teal leotard! Fucking Jane Fonda, I don’t know!”

“Cindy? We were just talking.”

“She was touching you! And you weren’t—you didn’t stop her.”

“Baby…” Steve smiles. He fucking smiles! The no-good cheating bastard…

Or, Billy catches Steve cheating. Or does he?

Billy should’ve known when he had to park his Camaro at the ass end of the Starcourt parking lot that the place would be packed. The heatwave was driving everyone inside, and the mall had a pretty bitchin’ AC system. Billy didn’t mind the heat—in fact, he’d be out there right now, shirtless, soaking up some rays if he didn’t have to pick Steve up from his shift at Scoops.

The whole him and Steve thing was still sort of fresh. They’d been messing around for a while, but it was only in the last few weeks that they’d agreed to put a label on it.

Boyfriends.

Jesus Christ…

He knew moving to Indiana would change him, but he didn’t know to what degree. Not the queer part—Billy knew he didn’t like girls. The only thing that got his dick hard was another dick.

But the boyfriend part? The holding hands at the movies, the making out on the hood of his car, the pet names, the Valentine’s Day gifts… he was turning into a fucking sap.

It’s almost embarrassing how gone he is for Steve.

So when Billy catches sight of an exceptionally pretty girl through the glass store front of Scoops, clad in one of those leotards that look like they're painted on, and with her hand buried in Steve’s hair—he sees red.

Billy’s furious entrance through the glass doors was somewhat damped by the stupid little bell chiming above him.

The girl jumps, pulling her hand free from Steve’s—his boyfriend’s—hair.

“Oh, hey Billy.” Steve says, all smiles.

And as much as Billy wants to fucking explode, he keeps it bottled up. Knows he can’t lose it right now. Instead, he focuses on taking deep, even breaths.

Both the chick and Steve stare after him, waiting for Billy to make some kind of reply. When it’s clear that that isn’t gonna happen, she just turns back to Steve.

“Well, thanks for the tip, Steve. See you tomorrow.” She says.

“See ya.” Steve returns. The girl then gives Billy a wide berth as she walks out of the store.

“Ready to go?” Steve asks, like nothing was amiss.

Or maybe this is just Steve’s own way of keeping his cool. Maybe… he was waiting until he got Billy alone to explain. To call this whole thing off.

It was all sort of too good to be true anyway. Real pie in the sky shit. It was stupid. Billy was stupid.

So he just nods, not trusting his own mouth. Doesn’t know whether he’ll yell or cry.

It’s not until they’re walking across the parking lot that Steve nudges him with an elbow. “You okay? You’re kinda quiet.”

Billy’s fingers are suddenly itching for a cigarette, so instead of answering Steve, he fishes out a smoke and his lighter.

“Did something happen? Your dad? Did he–”

“It’s not my fucking dad.” Billy snaps.

“Then what is it?” Steve stops walking. He looks at Billy with his head tilted, eyes squinting against the sunlight.

Billy takes a drag of his cigarette and holds it in his lungs for as long as he can before he exhales through his nose. It barely touches his frayed nerves. “Don’t play dumb with me.”

The line between Steve’s brows deepens. “What?”

But Billy turns his back to Steve, taking long strides toward his car.

“Wait! You can’t just–”

“Do you really wanna do this here?” Billy turns, motioning with his cigarette to the handful of random shoppers just searching for their own vehicles.

“Do what?” Steve asks in a voice pitched higher than normal.

“I saw you!” Billy barks, probably too loudly. But in the moment he doesn’t fucking care.

“Saw me? Saw me do what?”

Billy just huffs and takes his last remaining steps until he reaches his vehicle. “Just get in the car. I’ll still drive you home.”

They get in, but when Billy puts the keys to the ignition, Steve swipes them from his hand and holds them out of reach.

“Harrington, I swear–”

“We’re not going anywhere until you explain to me why you’re practically foaming at the mouth.”

Billy takes another puff of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out the window in a pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable.

“I saw you with her.”

“With who?”

“Teal leotard! Fucking Jane Fonda, I don’t know!”

Steve pauses for a beat. “Cindy? We were just talking.”

“She was touching you! And you weren’t–-you didn’t stop her.”

“Baby…” Steve smiles. He fucking smiles!

“It’s not funny!” Now it’s Billy’s turn for his voice to go high.

“It’s not funny, you’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just–Cindy’s married.”

“So? Married people cheat.”

“So she was just asking me where I got my highlights done, because she wanted some. I told her my boyfriend put me onto Sun-In, and I was just explaining to her that it didn’t dry out my ends. I told her she could feel my hair to prove it. And, I don’t know, maybe that’s weird but I wasn’t really thinking about–”

Billy’s mind had gone blank after hearing— “You told her you have a boyfriend?”

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like he actually had been caught doing something wrong, Steve confesses, “well, her yoga instructor is definitely gay and she doesn’t seem to care, so I figure it wouldn’t be that big of a deal… Look, I know it’s stupid, and dangerous but… I like telling people.”

Steve’s excited to be dating him, Billy realizes, his chest suddenly feeling tight enough to burst. So excited that he wants to tell people.

“Oh.” Is all he can say.

Steve finally lets himself laugh. “I’m sorry! It’s just… You’re really cute when you’re jealous.”

“Shut up.” Billy says, but there’s no heat behind it. He leans over and presses his lips to Steve’s.

To his boyfriend’s lips.

Jesus Christ…

He’s so fucking gone. It should be embaressing, but Billy’s too fucking in love to care.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Convenience Store Vampire, part 3

Part 1, Part 2

While I undertook the task of hauling a ghost out of its mortal shell (which was ridiculously hard, mind you), Hash held my parasol up with one hand and called someone with the other. We awkwardly shuffled into the shop, where I deposited the ghost, who was almost stable, into the storage cabinet. I thanked my lucky stars that spirits and ghosts were tiny, because he could barely lie down flat in it, despite being all of one and a half metres tall. (Or so I guessed. Another nice thing about vampirism was that it gave me the ability to estimate things with ridiculous accuracy.)

Hash hung up on her caller, and immediately began dialling another number. As she did, her features shifted and melted to become more wrinkled and concerned, taking on the form of a middle-aged woman in mom jeans and a t-shirt. (I had no idea how she shifted her clothes. One of the many mysteries of ‘shifter magic.)

“Hi?” She pitched her voice high, with a confused and anxious lilt. “I think I found a dead man? Yeah, he got rolled over or something? He's wearing an Exorcist uniform, I think? Erm, the address?” She paused, pretending to check the location. “I'm along Chesseri Lane, outside the Smiley Mart Convenience Store. What- What should I do? Oh, okay! Thank you, Officer, and may Ina bless your precious hearts.” 

She hung up and grinned at her phone, her skin rippling to return to their original features. “Guess what, Davie? 'Em coppers fell right fer it! Gods, I love watching ‘em fall fer my tricks. Ya'd think three thousand years of dealin' with my kin' would prep ‘em for dealing with us tricks'ers, but nay!” She snickered gleefully to herself.

I frowned at her, though there was no real heat in my gaze. “Hash, I just watched you speak a perfectly unaccented sentence. Why do you persist in speaking that gods-awful pidgin? You've been making me endure that thing for so long, you know,” I chided her.

She giggled some more. “Ya sound like my boyfrien'! He's always bitchin' ‘bout the accent. By the by, he's the one I called. Figured ‘cos he's a spirit, he'd mask the scent of our ghostie here, don't ya think?”

Sometimes I forgot that for all her antics, Hash was both very old and very smart. “Yeah, that should work,” I said. “But will he make it in time? The Luxatian Exorcist Corps are notoriously fast, you know.”

She pondered that thought, then laughed it away. “I told ‘im to hurry. He'll make it just fine,” she replied casually.

Right on cue, the door jingled as it opened.

An old friend of mine always said that spirits were so solemn because they were likely to be mistaken for children otherwise, and I saw it to be true. Hash's boyfriend could easily have passed for a twelve-year-old had he not been wearing a neatly pressed suit and the most dour of expressions. As I met his golden eyes, I could feel the disdain pouring off him.

“You could give most vampires a run for their money in the superiority complex department,” I said, unable to clamp down on my overly enthusiastic tongue. The spirit gave me a stern glare, but it only made me laugh. 

Taglist :)

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[bitchin-tubs]

I'm curious what Adam's redesign would look like with your artist eyes (you're really cool)

I’m glad someone asks me abt Adam because here’s what I have so far!

Ok soooo I actually hadn’t thought much about Adam’s role in the plot itself since I am changing the original role to Cain (who repents his sins by being Heaven’s best soldier) but I still knew I wanted him there as a figure of both admiration and fear to Adam (not because he’d do anything to him, he fears disappointing his parents again)

From then on I had nothing in mind for him until I found this draft

Personally I love the vibe here, he looks softer and wiser yet dominant, all which I can expect from the first ever human. Me personally I don’t like that winners have alternative forms when I’m Heaven, I don’t see the point other than to avoid designing humans. I can forgive it for the angels and even then I like to make more human-esque designs now and then

So for Adam’s designs I definitely wanted to keep him more human but to reflect a bit of his lore his form he has certain inhuman features. He wears no clothes (hehe) and uses his hair as a tunic of sorts, under all those locks he is an old man for sure but his hair and beard twists and connects in impossible ways to give him a slightly regal look. That and his wings.

Winners do not have wings or physical halos (their chest glows gold reflecting their “clean” soul)

Because of his greater status as the first human he takes a greater role in Heaven usually advising the angels and bringing wisdom to souls that reside in Heaven. I plan to have an arc where Cain’s duties conflicts with his ideals and his son goes ballistic over it wahhh

Here are some more concepts

And THANK YOUUU I’m always happy to share my ideas and even happier y’all like them

[universallydestinytaco]

A Wild Nerve-Ending on a Friday Night (Oneshot)

*mood music*

Well, tonight is the end of S2, beautiful friends…it’s been a lot of fun. I’d like to thank each and every one of you who made this off the wall, chaotic shitposting journey with us. This blog wouldn’t have been anything without y’all! Hopefully this show left us with some good memes….

So, until S3, I’m gonna keep writing silly little fanfics like this! Stay gold, critters.

….bang. /ref

Inspired by this post from @friendlysmiler

Pim is canonically quite the party animal himself from what we saw in everyone’s favorite episode so who knows what hijinks the little pink imp gets into? XD

Side Note: Bill and Smormu are not only both alive here but they’re a wlw couple here, Bill is a he/him lesbian and Smormu is transfemme and sapphic, because that’s how I roll.

Monday, 7:15am

A fresh start to a brand new week at the Smiling Friends charity has officially began as everyone punched in and awaited their breakfast Alan theatrically-prepared while he channeled his inner Joichiro Yukihira in the breakroom kitchen.

Charlie was scrolling through his phone while smirking at old Rage Comics from over a decade ago with Glep watching on his shoulder and making a similar goofy smirk while Pim happily drew a picture of his co-workers in colored pencils to stick onto the fridge while quietly singing a song from one of his comfort shows.

“Take a moment to think of juuuust, flexibility love and truuust~”

Once Pim colored inside the lines, he hopped out of his chair and scurried to the fridge to display his masterpiece. “Excuse me, I’m just going to grab the cheese to melt over our deluxe omelette.” asked Alan in his usual monotone voice while Pim let out a nervous squeak while stepping out of Alan’s way. While Alan grabbed what he needed he inspected Pim’s drawing a with an impressed smile. “I really like your picture here, you even perfectly replicated my scales.”

Pim started excitedly fidgeting his hands as he chirped: “Thank you, Alan, I always find it weird whenever people draw you, they tend to forget or deliberately leave it out. I think your scales are beautiful!” Alan got a bit bashful while trying to stay focused on finding the cheese grater, uttering a somewhat-shaker “Thank you, you’re too kind….damn can’t find it, don’t want to burn the omelette so I’ll just-“ Alan grabbed a knife and precisely peeled thin-layers of cheddar to gently lay on top of the fluffy eggy clouds seasoned with garden-fresh herbs and spring onions.

Charlie couldn’t resist making a cheap shot at his slinky red co-worker: “Hey guys, Alan cut the cheese.”, such was a line that caused him and Glep to burst into laughter as if they where in grade school. Alan, who was serving plates carrying slices of the omelette, wasn’t amused and was tempted to gift the two wisecracking ingrates each an equally-tasteless surprise of pulling a Glep into their food, but took the high-brow road with a classy remark: “Let’s switch the conversation to a topic with actual substance…so, how did everyone’s weekend go?”

Charlie piped up first: “I played through the entirety of this one cool RPG for two days straight then when I finally beat it I celebrated getting wasted at the bar before getting kicked out for starting another brawl and spent all Sunday sleeping off my hangover.” He lifted his right sleeve to reveal the cherry on top: “On the way home I got this bitchin’ tattoo.” Lovingly detailed on Charlie’s arm was a crudely-drawn snake-dragon thing with arms breathing fire.

Alan then turned to Pim, asking: “How was yours?” to which Pim casually replied: “Oh, nothing much, the highlight was me and some friends hanging out at a pool.”

…

Friday, 6:00pm ~ Three Nights Ago…

Pim was sneaking around with a group of familiar faces as the moon hung in the sky like a charm on a bracelet, a chorus of snickering harmonized with the chirping crickets and the hooting owls. They stop at their final destination: the fence barring access to a familiar estate from the common folk….that didn’t stop the wild bunch from helping each other break in by climbing over and slipping through. Greeting the mischievous party was a grandiose pool yard just begging for the crowd to jump in. “Ah, the perks of having connections with an A-List Celebrity….” Pim monologued to himself, before taking his shirts and shorts off revealing underneath was a hot sparkly teal one-piece with a star-shaped hole at the back for his pollywog tail to peek through. Smormu, who wore a pink floral-print bikini under her button-up and capri-pants whispered to Pim: “Are you sure we’re not going to get caught?” Pim replied with a grin: “Don’t worry, love, Mr. Frog’s out and about somewhere, probably at a crummy bar, and probably causing his usual commotions there so he isn’t too concerned with whatever’s happening here.” As Duncan and Dj Spitz set the mood by the former playing a 90s bop out of a retro boombox and the latter breaking out the booze, Everyone stampeded over to the pool in unison, each individual jumping in the cold crisp waters in various amusing ways as the loud victory cry of “GERONIMOOOO!!!!” bursted out of the ever-excitable Filmore’s mouth like a firework into the sky. It was a rip-roaring time with just a hint of good-old-fashioned chaos, just the way Pim liked it.

Just three nights night ago around this time, Pim was uncontrollably sobbing to himself in a pillow over the fact that his fickle sister Amy invited literally everyone she knew to her wedding… except for her ever-loyal and loving baby brother, bragging about having Mr. Frog as a celebrity guest. Sick of crying his eyes out and being excluded from his family’s lives on a daily basis, he figured he could have a celebration of his own! The only downside was his co-workers having plans of their for that weekend, otherwise he would have invited them over for this late-night dive.

“A toast to our dear comrade and member of the Pennsylvania UFO-Hunting Squad, the ever-lovable Pimling!” Bill proposed as he raised his glass, everyone followed suit, chanting Pim’s name, except for a heavily-intoxicated Dj Spitz pounding in his chest and hollering out: “FUCK YEAH ROCK ON LIL PINK MAN!!!” Of course Pim immediately got flustered, his face turned a vivid shade of hot pink as a result of all the positive attention while mustering the confidence to reply until grinning sheepishly and raising his own glass, stuttering: “T-thank you everyone, you’re all too kind…all this hype about little ol’ me.” In a rush off of the praise and the sheer audacity of his actions, he chugged his drink down without a second thought. Everything after that was a string of vague, discombobulated visions of what happened in-between the rest of the night…

Saturday, 5:02am

It was a very early morning when the dizzy, light-headed Pim woke up front-facing the twilight sky melting into daytime, getting up and finding himself floating inside Mr. Frog’s grandiose fountain in front of his house until he immediately snapped out of it upon just noticing the strewn toilet paper and graffiti all over the statue. In a panic, Pim swam out and scurried around looking for everyone else and making sure nobody was left behind, his heart raced discovering more of the shameless if not karmic defilement of Mr. Frog’s property: overturned lawn chairs with one thrown into a window, discarded junk inside the pool and the jacuzzi, more TP strewn around like party streamers and someone’s trunks (presumably Duncan’s) hung like a flagpole like a comical take on a windsock. It seemed everyone except Pim had taken off before sunrise if not gotten arrested. Combined with the panic attack he was getting and the unambiguous symptoms of a hangover reeking havoc on his body, Pim tried to reach for a trash can to stress-vomit until he collapsed and relieved his bile in the jacuzzi. Minutes went by as Pim felt weak like a newborn kitten, prepared for the legal trouble he was about to get himself in if Mr. Frog wasn’t going to maim him Spamtopia-style first….just then a familiar voice rang in Pim’s ears that filled him with relief, Pim’s eyes cracked open as he started upward at a sober Bill holding the hand of his stumbling partner, Smormu. “Morning, buddy, need a hand?” Pim responded without so much words as it was a tired grunt and raising his stubby pink hand to initiate Bill and Smormu helping their friend up. “Let’s hurry and get out of here, unless we wanna throw a party in the county tank.” Bill chuckled.

Later that day saw a double-dose of tea and drama Pim was secretly and gleefully catching up with, from Pim’s mother recanting to Pim how much of a disaster Amy’s wedding was when Mr. Frog showed his ass once again by getting drunk and trashing the place, even spilling red wine on her wedding dress. Then the news that Mr. Frog came home to his place utterly savaged, claiming he’d seek revenge on the purp but considering the type of person he was, everyone assumed that Frog did it himself after coming home from the wedding he was invited too and was too drunk to remember.

Monday, 7:27am

Pim finished with an uproar of laughter from his co-workers plus Mr. Boss, all of them in shock and awe that the one always perceived as the cute little “goody-two-shoes” of the Smiling Friends charity was capable of getting up to some serious frat boy-level shenanigans. Charlie felt as if he wasted his time spending his weekend the same as the last, so he asked his best friend: “Hey Pim, you think I can hang out with you next weekend?” Pim made an innocent pose, putting his finger on his lips as if he was a kid who got caught stealing from a cookie jar. “Well, maybe not same-the-same-place but I know another celebrity’s pool yard to break into! I hear the Krombledashians are hosting the Meep Gala next Saturday…”

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Alien Day falls in Lesbian Visibility Week, so that means I need to write for the lesbian Crowlien au because we love monster women here. Even though this story technically takes place before Aziraphale mutates into an alien.

I just wanted to write a little soft fluff with them before shit happened. Even if there is mentioning of what happens post-alien encounter.

On with the fic!

--

Crowley was grinning as she crossed through the ship's halls, looking for the medical wing. She had something hidden behind her back as she slipped past an irritated looking Furfur, nearly dropping it when he almost tripped her. "Whoa! Who pissed in your cornflakes?" She sniffed, giving him a look.

Furfur looked back at her, clucking his tongue. "Just the annoying, forgetful redhead who, once again, left me doing her job!"

Crowley blinked, then considered what he meant. "You went and fixed the issue with the lights in med bay?"

"Yes. Which your... wife kept trying to get you to fix!" He spat the word 'wife' out as if it tasted terrible. God, he was never going to get over Crowley rejecting him, is he? "Apparently she'd been trying to contact you all morning, and you didn't answer any of her calls."

"Was busy with that repair job Gabe's was bitchin' about at dinner last night, the one he told me I had to do first thing in the mornin', remember?" Crowley stuck out her tongue at him. "Anyway, I need to go and see my wife about something more important than the malfunctionin' lights in the keyboard of her computer! Ta~!"

She cackled and ran to Aziraphale's office, slapping the door button, watching it slide open.

Aziraphale was inside, typing away at her computer with just her index fingers. It's amazing how much of an old lady she could be, even at her age, it was so cute. She seemed so focused on whatever she typing that she hadn't noticed Crowley or the door opening.

Crowley chuckled softly, leaning against the door frame, waiting for her wife to finally notice.

In three... two...

"Oh! Darling!" Aziraphale looked up, smiling brightly. "I didn't hear you come in!"

"Course not, too busy doin' nerdy medical stuffy, eh?"

"Hush you." Aziraphale replied, then pouted. "Where were you? I've been trying to contact your communication device all morning! Did you forget to charge it again?"

"One, no, it was charged, remember? You saw me plug it in. Two, just call it a comm, angel, no one calls it a 'communication device'." Crowley moved from the door, hearing it shut behind her, hands still kept behind her back as she approached the desk.

"And I was fixin' that thing for the captain, cause if I didn't, you know he'd hound me for it all fuckin' day."

"Ah, that is true." Aziraphale said, then glanced to the side, trying to see what Crowley was hiding. "What's that?"

Crowley grinned. "Do you know what day it is?"

Aziraphale blinked owlishly behind those little glasses she wore when reading. "Tuesday?"

"Well, yes, but the date?"

"It's August..." She glanced at her calendar, then gasped. "It's my-!"

"Happy birthday!" Crowley shouted, holding out the yellow gift bag she had been trying to keep hidden.

Aziraphale stood up, looking so excited as she walked around the desk. "Oh, you clever snake, you didn't have to get me anything!"

"Too late, got it right before we left, so I clearly can't take it back! WAAAAYYYY past the thirty day return limit!"

The doctor laughed and kissed Crowley on the cheek before taking the bag, looking inside. "Oh, oh Crowley..." She pulled out a book, one that was clearly old, but in a very well-kept condition. "Is this...?"

"A first edition copy of Persuasion? Your favorite book? It might be."

"Darling, this is just... it's too much!"

"Nothing is too much for my wife, my favorite person, my beloved angel." Crowley smiled, holding her close, kissing her neck. "Do you like?"

Aziraphale set the book and bag on her desk, then leaned into the hold, kissing her right on the lips. "I love it. I love you. You make me so happy."

Crowley kissed her on the forehead. "Good, when you're happy, I'm happy. I love you too, angel."

--

Crowley looked at the pages in front of her, having paused mid-sentence in her reading aloud of the book. She heard the soft sounds of Aziraphale sleeping, felt the warm, moist breath through those terrifying teeth against her shirt where her wife was resting her head.

She grabbed for the bookmark nearby, slipping it into place, then closed the book. She looked at the cover, seeing the single word of the title. It was still in good condition, minus tiny tears from where Aziraphale had tried to grab it in her clawed hands.

It bothered her to not be able to hold her precious books anymore, but Crowley was there to do that, to help her enjoy them by reading the stories aloud. Granted, Crowley didn't often like the books Aziraphale enjoyed, some of them were so gloomy, but it made her wife happy, and that's what Crowley enjoyed most.

She sighed softly, setting the book aside, looking at bone-white locks of messy hair, at a face that seemed more like a skull than the cherubic face she was used to, but she still saw her wife there, that beautiful angel she married.

Things would never be like that birthday when Aziraphale got her book, when it had been such a good day, only for things to go to shit just two weeks later.

But that was alright, Crowley still had Aziraphale, even if she was a bit different than before. Her angel was happy, even like this, and that meant Crowley was happy.

--

Something sweet, before all hell broke loose.

Also, yes, Crowley reads to Aziraphale now, it's so hard for her to do it herself.

Oh, I really like the idea that Furfur has feelings for Crowley, who has been married to Aziraphale for years. Sir, move on, you're never gonna get the girl. (Also, you die anyway, but still).

[artisticbones]

Welcome to my blog!

Last Updated: 9/20/2024

Status: Still Active.

My name is Onyx, I'm 23, Transmasc Nonbinary (They/He). I have been struggling with Anorexia for what feels like forever. My anorexia is personally in large part trauma based, however it does have it's other origins. I may talk about these things on here, along with posts about my general life.

I am also diagnosed with BPD with Antisocial features and am medically recognized as having DID and will be having a diagnostic assessment in the upcoming months. These factors do contribute and will probably be discussed.

I'm also Autistic with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. I also have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, which does not help things. As you can see, I'm a fucking mess lmao. I also rely on weed and just any substance to help with my chronic pain and just generally shitty mental health.

This said, I do not encourage any of my own unhealthy behavior. I use this as a safe place to vent and ramble. If you are in recovery from any eating disorder, don't follow, in fact I'd encourage you to block me.

Ramblings of my life and shit will be tagged as: onyx rambles

For rants those will be tagged: onyx is bitchin'

I would prefer if you were also 18+ please and thank you.

Stats

CW: 113.2

GW: 98

UGW: 88

Last thing, if you're 18+ and ever wanna talk, not like coach bs but just need a friend my dms are open, however I can be on and off when it comes to replies so do understand that. Once again, to be clear, if you're an adult and need a friend, someone to talk to, my dms are open. I understand what it's like to feel alone and while I may not always reply quickly or as consistently as some may, I will do my best to be a listening ear.

[zeravmeta]

moments after the knk event ends void hops onto discord and dms king hassan like "duuude there was this really funny guy you should check them out sometime they got my trampstamp on em" and king hassan replies with a singular but powerful "bitchin"

[blood-orange-juice]

Tumblr doesn't let users send asks with side blogs that are attached to user's main blog account so this is user bitchin-witchin up in your ask box. I saw you reblog on a post about childe liking the aranara with the reply that if he could see them it would be too spoilery. I'm curious what you think would be spoliery about it. theories are difficult for me to follow with how heavy genshin lore can be and when I think about childe and the aranara I have a difficult time rationalizing in my head that he would be able to see them. I want him to be able to see them and I can think of reasons he could but I can also think of counter arguments. Though I suppose if you don't pick a direction with theories you could go in loops like that forever xD Anyways, all this to say: would be very interested to hear your thoughts behind that comment :3

(necroreplies are my forte)

I'm not sure if I'm right, but wasn't the inability to see Aranara a byproduct of Sumeru's people inability to see dreams? So now that Akasha terminal has been shut down they should go back to to seeing them.

Also Childe is not from Sumeru to begin with and he's fairly open-mided, so he at least stands a chance.

As for spoilers... I think there's something wrong with how his mind functions, he's a bit too comfortable with holding mutually exclusive ideas in his head at the same time, and his personality structure doesn't fit any personality structure that I know of (even split personality disorder), even if I make adjustments for anime logic. Anyone with an ability to walk through dreams or read minds would notice that.

Also after Narcissenkreuz and Aranara quests I have an impression that the importance of childhood dreams that he talks about in his personal quest doesn't simply stem from trauma ("I want others to have the things I never got for myself") but rather happens to be some important worldbuilding detail.

Childhood games are too similar to ancient creation magic in this game. This seems like endgame lore to me and I think that's exactly what he'd like to talk about with Aranara if he met them.

So... no Aranara-Childe interactions for us. *sad Rinn noises*

art by HAZE

[seabirdtxt]

Hi, I’m Bird. welcome to my sideblog! i hope you have a good time :) thanks for reading! 🩵

Ask box is: On hold

WIP tracker

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Rules & TOS:

- I am using this blog as a place to put my self-indulgent fandom fics. i don't proofread or beta my stuff so if i make typos no i didn't 🫡

- blank blogs please do not +follow! i will assume you are a bot and block/softblock you. You can remain empty/anon as long as you have some profile customization and maybe a post/reblog or two

- you can send asks/requests and i'll tackle 'em asap but please don't expect too much of the social aspect from me, i struggle with socialization like a feral cat

- i write reader fics. this means: gender neutral, no physical description/indicators, no gender-biased nicknames clothes or scenarios, you/yours and they/them pronouns only.

- do not call my Reader she/her, or any fem-aligned nicknames. im dead serious, this is a ‘block on sight’ thing, it kicks up my dysphoria and it's the same reason i won't read fem!reader fics. i won't block for the first time, but if you commented on something or sent an ask/request and I deleted/didn't respond, this is probably why. I'm giving y'all the benefit of the doubt that maybe you didn't check my page first though! but continued behavior will earn a block .

- i’m not holding a taglist atm, you either perceive me or don't. (if i ever write smth longer that warrants a taglist i’ll be sure to mention it!)

- no bigotry or discrimination allowed, please use your good judgement when consuming media, etc. there will be no bitchin in my kitchen!

- no reposting, copying, or heavily referencing! plaigarism is the 8th cardinal sin 😊 yes this includes feeding my writing to AI. don't do it.

- re: above ^ making stuff inspired by/expanding on concepts is totally fine though! i'm inviting everyone to come play in my sandbox :3c if you do, please tag me! i'd love to see and rb from you 🥰 (AI is still 100% off the table though)

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Request Rules:

currently in genshin/sagau fandom so mostly stick to those themes please! (and do let me know if you want canon or other AU settings! otherwise i'll assume sagau)

i won't do crossovers sorry! i'm not too knowledgeable on many other media or fandoms and i'd rather not butcher something im not familiar with!

willing to write both platonic and romantic! (specific character romance with the male characters only, sorry, but platonic is free game!)

i write kinda slow tbh, so please don't send me anything that is time sensitive or has a deadline bc i probably won't make it in time :')

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General Tags:

Writing -> #seabird.txt

Doodles -> #seabird.png

Asks/replies -> #seabird.inbox

Personal -> #seabird.exe

Reblogs -> #seabird.rb

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Masterlist below the cut:

Glitch in Irminsul AU

SAGAU setting, where the Irminsul tree behaves like a GIT repository, and the Creator's arrival accidentally merged old branches into the current data.

Blog Tag - [p1] [p2] [p3] [p4] [p5]

[hc1]

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Bloodletting AU

SAGAU cult au, the Creator descends to Teyvat with no obvious godly powers and is rejected by the acolytes, until it's discovered that their golden blood has strength-enhancing properties.

Blog Tag - [p1] [p2]

[rb1] [rb2]

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Voice of God AU

SAGAU cult au, set pre-isekai. The Shouki no Kami is powered up and connected to Scaramouche, who then experiences a sudden jarring connection to the Creator.

Blog Tag - [p1] [p2] [p3]

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Wish Upon series

Stardust AU, canon setting. Wanderer tries to catch a fallen star to get a blessing from Celestia and obtain a heart. Instead, he gets you.

Blog tag - [p1]

Misc. fics

Not aligned to any specific AU or series!

[200 Follower Event tag]

[Creator!Reader and Cyno's bad jokes] [dollmaker!Reader and the scara gang]

🔞 [18+ tag] 🔞