#even if the only way she can talk through them is in a journal or a letter than she never sends

[robinbckleya2]

also robin is such a verbal processor, it drives me crazy, i love it so much

[aemondsbabe]

The Queen

summary: dairy/letters & lingerie kink || alicent stumbles across a secret of yours and is more than happy to make it come true

pairing: modern!alicent x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, wlw, pre-established relationship, dom!Alicent, sub!reader, queen honorifics used in the bedroom, lingerie kink, use of a leather crop, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, thigh riding, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 3.3k

a/n: happy day seven of 12 days of smuff!! i went into a fugue state and wrote 10 pages in 2 hours. the hold that olivia cooke has on me should be studied by science. anyway.

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @olliviacooke

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Alicent’s POV

She was humming, swaying her hips to a new album she’d downloaded earlier that week as she smoothly moved the duster along the wooden surface of your nightstand, careful as she guided it between the lamp and the small potted plant you loved so much. Getting a bit too into the music she was listening to as she tidied up your shared bedroom, though, she accidentally bumped against the growing stack of books on your nightstand. 

“Shit!” Alicent hissed as a few went tumbling to the ground. Sighing, she bent down to grab them, half-heartedly cursing you for insisting on buying new books before you’d finished the ones you had. 

“Huh?” She wonders outloud, pausing the music on her phone when she sees her name scrawled in your familiar handwriting. Her fingers brush over the soft, leather bound book as she picks it up, her lips pursing as she reads the words “Personal Journal” embossed on the front in fancy gold lettering. Her brown eyes widen and quickly glance around the room, despite the fact that she knows she’s the only one home. Biting her lip, she runs a finger over the spine of your diary, weighing her options. On the one hand, she knew it would be a horrible invasion of your privacy to look but… well, what if it was something important? 

She shook her head at the thought. She wasn’t going to be one of those snooping partners! You already told her everything anyway, it’s not like there would be anything in your diary she didn’t already know! You were basically an open book, in fact, it was one of the things she loved most about you – your willingness to be so honest and transparent. 

No, she thought, carefully setting the diary back on your bedside table, I’m not going to! I’m simply – 

Okay, sue her. She’s only human and her name was right there! She’d make it up to you. 

Glancing around one more time, she flipped open the leather-bound book, flipping through it to the page she’d spotted a moment ago. She found it pretty quickly and nervously bit on a nail as her eyes scanned over the page, noticing the date first. It was from only about a week ago. She read on.

I’m not even sure how to bring up the topic, it doesn’t really seem like something you’d just bring up at the dinner table? Like, “Oh, honey, yeah work was great today! Kevin from accounting is finally getting married, I know! Can you believe it? Oh. yeah, one more thing! Can you boss me around in the bedroom like a drill sergeant?” I mean, come on. 

What if she isn’t even into it? What if she wants to be the submissive one? I don’t think Alicent’s totally vanilla, I mean, there have been so many sparks of… something. Sometimes she tells me to do something, usually innocuous like making sure the door’s locked before we leave or to get the laundry hamper from the closet but… God, the way she says it makes me shiver. And when she’s talking on the phone to someone at work? That authoritative voice makes me melt. 

Sigh. I just need to find the courage to ask. 

Alicent finally finished the entry and looked up from your journal, blinking as thoughts raced through her head. After a minute, she closed the notebook and placed it carefully back on your bedside table, just like it was before it fell off the table. 

She could barely keep the smirk off her face as she grabbed her purse and keys and shut the front door behind her, a devious, delicious plan quickly forming in her head. 

She knew exactly how to make up for her actions. 

Reader’s POV

You sigh as you unlock the front door, quickly tossing your keys into the small bowl on the entryway table before kicking off your shoes.

“Babe?” You called, furrowing your brows at how unusually quiet the house was. Alicent’s car was in the driveway and normally she’d be playing music by the time you got home but today… nothing. You’re about to call out again when the sound of heels clicking down the hallway makes you stop in your tracks, your bag falls from your hand as your girlfriend finally appears from around the corner.

“Good day at work?” Alicent asks coolly, tilting her head as she leans against the doorway. Meanwhile, you feel dumbstruck as your eyes scan over her appreciatively, taking in every dip and curve as if you’d never seen any of them before. Your eyes skim over her outfit, a black, lacy bustier perfectly framing her chest, with a matching black thong clinging to her soft hips, fishnet stockings held up by an enticing garter belt, all the way down to black, pointed toe heels. She’d even taken the time to straighten her usually curly hair, smoothing it down into a clean, nearly intimidating style. 

She smirked, brown eyes sparkling at your awe-struck expression, smiling when your eyes finally landed on her face; you couldn’t help but swallow when you saw that she was wearing that expensive red lipstick she only brought out for special occasions, the one you love so much. 

Her heels click on the wood floors as she strides over to you and it’s only then you realize that she has something in her hand – a black leather crop. The sight of it makes your knees weak. 

“I asked you a question, baby,” she says gently, locking eyes with you as she gently cups your cheek with in her hand, “It would be rude not to answer.” There’s a hard edge to her voice that makes you lose what little train of thought you had.

“I… uh,” you stutter, blush rising to your cheeks as you stare helplessly at her, fighting to keep your gaze locked on hers, “W-Work was good, yeah. Same as… as usual.” You finally finish, your chest already heaving as you rub your thighs together, desperate before you even know what’s going on. 

“How wonderful,” she smirks and leans in, giving you a sweet kiss like she normally would, but today it has your head spinning, “What do you think of my little surprise?” She asks, though there isn’t really a question in her tone – she already knows your answer.

“I love it,” you breathe, hardly giving her time to finish speaking as you let your gaze wander over her yet again. “What, uhm,” you cough nervously, “What gave you the idea?”

She smiles again, shrugging; you nearly jump out of your skin when she softly runs the leather crop up the inside of your thigh, starting at your knee and stopping tantalizingly close to your core. “Just got the sense that maybe you’d be into it…” She says casually, like you’re talking about the weather, “Was I right?”

All you can do is nod your head, but that’s not good enough, apparently. Her eyes narrow and she wraps a hand around your neck, not too harshly, mostly just sitting it there but it’s enough to make you whimper in the back of your throat, breath catching as her perfectly manicured red nails just barely dig into your delicate skin. “I don’t think that’s the proper way to address me, is it?” She coos, a faux pout to her lips. 

“N-No,” you say shakily, your eyes searching hers, “No… ma’am?” You try, inwardly cringing at how your voice squeaks. 

She clicks her tongue like a disappointed mother, the sound going straight between your legs, as she fixes you with an intense stare. “Baby, you know how I sometimes call you princess?” She asks, smiling proudly when you eagerly nod, “Well, tell me. Who’s more in charge than a princess?”

Your throat goes dry and you swallow thickly, darting your tongue out to wet your lips before speaking. “T-The queen?” You ask softly, pride feathering out in your chest like the train of a peacock when she smiles and nods again.

“That’s right!” She praises, almost as if she was speaking to a child; perhaps you should be offended at her condescending tone, but, if anything, it just makes your heart beat faster. “The queen. Do you want me to be your queen today, sweet one?” Again, you nod, so she continues. “So, address me properly.”

“Yes, my queen.” You breathe the words, core clenching softly around nothing. 

“Very good,” she praises, leaning in and lightly brushing her lips over the pulsepoint on your neck, “Do you want to keep being a good girl for your queen?”

“Yes, your grace, please.” You say with an eager nod, feeling like you’ll explode if she doesn’t touch you, or so something soon.

“Then be good for me and go to the bedroom,” she nods as she speaks, her big brown eyes looking directly into yours, “And strip.” She finishes coolly, leaving you no room to argue. 

You nod quickly and practically leap down the hallway, blushing when you hear her giggling behind you. As soon as your feet hit the soft rug in the bedroom, you tug at your clothes, quickly shedding your sweater and work trousers before unclipping your bra and sliding your underwear down your legs, haphazardly shoving everything into the hamper because you just know she’ll say something about the mess if you don’t. Finally, not knowing what else to do, you stand by the bed, arms clasped in front of you.

She doesn’t make you wait long and you bite your lip in anticipation as her heels click slowly down the hallway, smiling shyly when you finally meet her gaze again as she enters the room. Just like you knew she would, her eyes immediately dart to the hamper and her smile widens when she sees your clothes from today resting on top. 

“What a good girl I have,” she praises as she saunters over to you, her hips swinging enticingly as she moves. Without another word, she sits on the edge of the bed and gently places the crop down next to her on the bedspread, before she beckons you over with a crook of her finger, “You like your queen’s special surprise for you, huh?” She questions, tilting her head as she peers up at you, her hands resting gently on the curve of your hip. 

“Yes,” you nod, your eyes trailing down to her cleavage before you can help yourself and it’s only then that you notice that she’s breathing nearly as hard as you are, a blush extending down her pale neck and chest, “I love it, my queen, so much.” You nearly whisper, dizzy at the thought that she might be enjoying this just as much as you are. 

“Don’t you think you should thank me for your surprise, princess?” She asks coolly, smirk widening as she sees a look of realization in your eyes. 

“Yeah, yes, please,” you nearly beg, already tempted to sink to your knees.

She smirks at your eagerness, all but laughing when you whine as she pushes herself back further, out of your grasp and into the center of the bed, making enough room for you in front of her. Again, she crooks her finger and you hastily follow after her, kneeling between her fishnet-covered legs. With another smirk, she silently spreads her legs, bending them at the knee enough that the heels of her shoes dig into the bedspread. 

Something between a gasp and a whimper escapes your lips as you let your gaze travel down, between her legs, where you’re met with the shocking realization that the black thong she has on is indeed crotchless. Your eyes stay glued to her center, now beautifully framed by two strips of lace fabric; the sight makes you lick your lips without thinking, taking in the way her folds shimmer, even in the low light of the bedroom. Finally, you manage to rip your gaze away and lock eyes with her again, your blush deepening at the hazy look in her eyes as she leans back on her elbows. 

“Go on, princess,” she breathes, that familiar, aroused rasp finally present, “Thank your queen.”

You spring into action, wrapping your hands around her soft thighs as you lean in, kneeling between her legs. Your eyes flutter as you look up the length of her body while you press soft, sweet kisses to the inside of her thighs, your eyes widening when you see her lean over and quickly grab the crop. 

You jolt as she brings it down, smacking one ass cheek with it, not enough to hurt but enough to leave behind a pleasant little zing. “I don’t believe I asked you to tease me,” she admonishes, a playfulness to her tone still as her other hand brushes into your hair, red nails scratching soothing against your scalp, “Thank me properly.” She commands, guiding your head to exactly where she wants it.

You’re more than happy to obey and you press a kiss to the center of her folds, right on her clit, moaning against her as you feel it twitch against your lips. She lets out a breathy moan as your tongue licks a long, straight line up her center, right down the middle, before your lips gently seal around her bud. 

Your eyes flutter closed again as you softly suck at her clit, moaning lowly in your throat at her familiar sweet taste. You move in just the way she likes, kissing and licking over her heat with a practiced ease, pride blooming in your chest with every moan, whine, and sigh of your name. You shake your head against her, attempting to bury your tongue in her twitching core as the tip of your nose teases her clit, your chin dripping with her when you finally pull back. 

“Princess, fuck,” she breathes above you, head tilted down so she can watch as you feast on her, “Fuck me, come on.” She orders, giving another sharp little spank to your bum with the crop. 

You do as she says, smiling as you flick your tongue over her bud while you glide two fingers through her folds, making sure to get them nice and wet before you slide them carefully into her, relishing the long moan she lets out as you do. You can’t help but whimper as her walls clamp down tightly, pulsing around your fingers as you crook them up in the way you know she loves, your lips sealing softly around her clit again, eyes fluttering as you watch her chest heave. 

“Good fucking girl,” she whimpers, accentuating each word of praise with another slap of her crop against you, the pleasant sting you clench around nothing, “Make your queen come, princess, good girl.” She moans, tilting her head back as you redouble your efforts. 

Your arm aches as you fuck your fingers into her, keeping them quirked up against that small rough patch within her, but you pay it no mind, focusing only on the hand in your hair and the taste of her in your mouth, your hips canting desperately in the air. 

You flick your tongue against her bud once more, in just the right way, and it sends her over the edge with a gasp. You moan into her as the hand in your hair tightens and her walls rhythmically squeeze against your fingers, nearly tight enough to push them out. You move steadily, bringing her through her high as you have so many times before, only stopping when she finally goes lax against you. 

You press kisses against her thighs and hips as she comes down, breathing heavily above you. Eventually, the hand in your hair tightens once more, and you sigh happily as she pulls you up. 

“You did so good,” she praises softly, her voice breathy as she presses her lips against yours; she moans softly as your tongue licks into her mouth before she pulls away to trail kisses down your neck, “So good for your queen, my sweet princess.” You sigh happily, eyes fluttering shut as you straddle her, one of her legs between yours.

Your eyes shoot open as she bends her leg, pressing her fishnet covered thigh firmly against your center with a knowing smirk. “Goodness,” she gasps, her beautiful brown eyes widening once she feels how wet you are against her, “I think you deserve a reward too, for treating your queen so well.”

“Please, holy shit,” you gasp, your hips already moving on her leg, the pattern of her stockings adding a delicious friction, “P-Please, your grace.” You quickly correct yourself when she brings her crop down once more, making your back arch. 

“Good girl,” she whispers, mouthing at your neck. She lets the crop fall to the bed again as she cups your ass with both hands, guiding your hips as you move against her, “Take what you need, princess, you earned it.” She breathes, smirking as you shudder above her. 

You nod mindlessly, swallowing thickly as you already feel the knot in your stomach tightening dangerously, each drag of your clit over her stockinged thigh sends shockwaves up your spine. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier as you get closer and she smiles happily, bouncing her thigh against your wet core in the way she knows drives you insane. 

“My beautiful little princess,” she whispers, red lips ghosting over your chest, “Behaving so well for her queen.” 

You fall apart once her lips seal around one of your nipples, sparks of pleasure bursting behind your eyelids as she carefully sucks the sensitive bud into her mouth, gently teasing at it with her teeth. Your body tenses up as your walls clench again and again, your fingers grabbing at the sheets as you gasp her name. 

Finally, your eyes flutter open as your high subsides. Thankfully, you have just enough presence of mind to roll to the side, cuddling against her as your chest heaves. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe through a small laugh, your face flushed as your eyes meet hers. 

“So, you liked it?” She asks, a shy lilt to her voice now that both of you have had the chance to come down. 

“Liked it?” You question, staring at her wide-eyed, “I… I loved it. That was incredible.” You breathe, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder, “Where on earth did all that come from?”

She giggles softly, a guilty look appearing on her face. “Promise you won’t be too upset with me?” She asks softly. 

“Of course,” your reply is instant as you card your fingers through her soft hair, “Just tell me.”

“I was cleaning a few days ago, when I had that day off,” she explains, swallowing as you nod along, “And I… may have accidentally knocked your diary off the table and then got curious when I saw my name and… yeah.” She finishes, teeth biting at her lower lip. 

Your face reddens a bit, instantly knowing which entry she must’ve seen, but you merely shake your head, about to tell her not to worry about it when she starts speaking again.

“I do feel really bad about it,” she sighs, continuing quickly, “I know it’s a breach of trust but I saw my name and then… I’ll make it up to you, I pr – !” 

She gasps as you cut her off with a sweet kiss, shaking your head dismissively, “Consider it made up.” 

“You aren’t mad?” She asks hesitantly.

“Mad?” You echo, laughing softly, “My sexy girlfriend bought ridiculously hot lingerie, and a riding crop, just to surprise me and fucked me to within an inch of my life and I’m supposed to be mad at her over a little diary?” Both of you dissolve into a fit of giggles as you finally finish, nuzzling happily against each other, “I think not.” You quip, smirking as your eyes search hers. 

“Okay, yeah,” she says with a small eye roll, “I am pretty great, huh?”

“And oh so humble,” you laugh, pressing kisses over the curve of her shoulder before leaning back to smirk at her, “Your majesty.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[strangeshoepatrolbandit]

Batfam x GN!Bat!Reader.

Summary: Bruce had another kid in Arkham asylum that nobody knows about.

Warnings: Murder, Suicide, Arkham asylum, Reader can see the dead, Bruce being a bad father, mentions someone who can "hear God".

Part Two

~☆~

Nineteen.

Nineteen miserable years that you have been alive. Five of which you have spent in the hell hole, that is Arkham Asylum. Thrown in here with the approval of the man known as your father. The man Gotham city praises. The man who does nothing but help those around him, even going as far as adopting a group of orphans. Bruce Wayne.

You had always had an "overreactive" imagination as the people around you called it. When you were around twelve, you started having "outbursts", claiming things that weren't there actually existed, things that happened actually were caused by another being, one that only you can see.

So when your mother was unexpectedly murdered, and Batman walked onto the scene, you told him you weren't even home. But the journals your mother kept that had scribbles all about your claims made them believe it was you who killed her, only, you were believing a delusion, so you didn't remember. Of course you remember, you were out running the streets to get yourself just a scrap of food from wherever you could get it from.

The city wanted a DNA test before they threw you in Arkham, trying their best to put a face to the empty signature on your birth certificate. You could always tell your mother knew who your father was. Her dismissive attitude that presented whenever you would ask gave it away.

When the test came back and told you that you were the Prince of the city's kid, you told yourself that he's unreliable and not to be trusted. Your mother had to have a reason not to tell the man that she was carrying his child. She wouldn't have raised you in your shitty one bedroom apartment for nothing. Maybe she did tell him, and he just told her to get lost?

You just know that as he watched you get dragged away and thrown in one of the most vile places, you had decided that he was the worst thing you would ever see.

He never one visited or called. Even when the DNA came back and he was allowed a short meeting with you, he denied wanting to see you. A far different man than his TV persona.

×

"This piece goes over there.." A female voice spoke from over your shoulder.

"Thank you, Alice."

"Mhm"

Alice was a nice girl. She had shaved off brunette hair and a pair of strikingly blue eyes. There were marks that stuck to the temples of her head from years of electro-therapy. She had been a patient at Arkham years before you were thrown in. She had even died there. She had whispered a story about her time awaiting her death through her electro-therapy...it was almost the same as the electric chair.

"And this one goes here." A young male who sat in front of you pointed at the puzzle you were putting together.

Mathew. He, too, had dark brown hair and matching blue eyes with Alice. Siblings that came from the same rotten seed. He had killed himself in Arkham after he found out about Alice's death.

Nothing was really wrong with them, they had been transmitted to Arkham at a bad time in the world. The both of them were just severely traumatized and scared.

Far different than Ruby, who claims God was talking to her, but his whispers stopped when she strangled herself.

"They have brownies in the canteen today." Mathew whispered, watching you with his usually wide eyes. The brownies happened to be the only good thing in this entire facility.

"Finally, I've been waiting all week." You mumbled, looking down at the table in front of you.

"Y/N." The familiar voice of Dr. Conley spoke. "It's time."

Wordlessly, you abandoned your puzzle and left your room, following her all the way to the bare office that they would bring the catatonic patients. Your breakdown last week had landed you to not be able to leave the main building.

"Please sit." She instructed you. You did as told and reached for the sickeningly white chair that waited for you.

You watched as she took in a sigh and looked around the room. "I thought you were getting better-"

"There is nothing to recover from." You interrupted her, growing defensive. "I'll name off a patient who died here, and you can go see if you can find their papers!"

You know you should've given up explaining by now. None of them would ever believe you. "Y/N, you know that's not possible-"

"But fucking aliens are!?" Your breathing became heavy as you looked at her.

"Look, Y/N-"

"I want to go back to my room." You mumbled, interrupting her for the third time.

You could hear her sigh yet again before she tried to speak, but you only banged on the table in front of you. "I WANT TO GO BACK TO MY ROOM!"

×

Dick had been searching through Bruce's at home office for the past few hours. Looking for his adoption papers because of some stupid shit at work. With a sigh, he closed the filing cabinet he was looking in and went to go find Alfred instead.

As he approached the dining room (where he expected the older man to be), he not only found Alfred, but a giant box filled with papers as well.

"I believe you were looking for this." Alfred stated as he turned to look at Dick. "Master Bruce keeps all of your legal documents in a safer place." Of course, he was talking about the other adoptees and blood child that lived in the Manor some point in their life.

"Yeah, thanks, Alf." Dick smiled as he started sorting through the papers. The older man only nodded his head and walked off.

Alright here we go..Jason, Tim, Damian, Jason again, More stuff for Tim, a copy of his own birth certificate, Y/N L/N, Jason- Hold on..Y/N L/N?

×

Dick had loudly entered the batcave, making a b-line straight for Bruce.

"Who is Y/N?!"

"Wha-"

"Who the fuck is Y/N, Bruce?!"

Bruce let out a sigh as he stepped away from Dick, watching as his son waved a handful of papers in his face.

"Father, what is he talking about?" Damian (who just happened to be in the cave) asked.

"He has another kid- one that he's kept secret!" Dick yelled, looking over at his younger brother. He knows it's not really any of his business, but he can't help but feel angry over how you might have not even existed in Bruce's eyes. "Another ACTUAL kid of yours!" He put emphasis on the 'actual' trying to hint to you being another blood child like Damian.

"Go get ready. I'm calling Tim and Jason." He told Damian, already grabbing his phone from his pocket. Damian hesitantly got out of his seat and did what Dick asked.

"Dick, you don't have to make this serious." Bruce slackly tried to grab for the phone.

"Don't make it serious?!" Dick yelled, shocked at Bruce's words. "They're your kid?!"

"They're a murderer!"

Dick let an ebrupt laugh fall from his lips, slowly lowering the phone from his ear. "Jason's a murderer."

"B-but-"

"Damian's a murderer, Tim's a murderer, I'm a murderer!" He yelled out the last part.

The two of them continued to stare at each other for a few seconds before Dick brought his phone back up to his ear. "Yeah, Tim, I'm here."

~☆~

Hehehhe, just something I came up with. I'm going to post another ArkhamPatientBatkid!Reader later. It's gonna have a different plot and stuff, but it's just stuck in my head.

[umeoniii]

aot men as pervs

eren, jean, reiner

!: masturbation,

eren: he’s the type of pervy to literally stalk you and record your every move. he’ll write down stuff such as the lotion you use and will purchase it just so he can ‘smell you’. he probably does yucky things with the lotion while smelling it. also does stuff like slapping your ass while you’re caught off guard, will say it’s an accident even though it clearly wasn’t.

~

vanilla mocha martini eren thought to himself, quickly pulling out a pen and writing down the name of the lotion you pulled out of your bag. eren had been heavily infatuated with you for quiet a while. it was so much so to the point he had a whole secret journal dedicated to you and everything about you. it was honestly weird, anyone would file a restraining order against him if they knew just how far he went. he loved you even if he didn’t know you and just admired you from afar.

you turned around looking at the noise coming from behind you. a pen fell on the floor, eren’s pen. you watched as eren picked up the pen off the floor, his green eyes met yours, you dismissed him with a soft smile turning around.

you always found him peculiar, not necessarily in a rude way, but he was more reserved and kept to himself only speaking when spoken to. occasionally you’d see him walking and talking to his close friends but that was it. it always felt like he was watching you though. everytime you turned around his eyes were always in your direction before he’d avert them quickly.

she smiled at me.

when class was over he walked closely behind you, obviously invading your personal space. but it was worth being in your presence. when he walked passed you felt something like a hand rub against your butt, but when you turned around you saw no one too close to you. and when you turned back forward you saw eren walking slowly in front of you, phone in hand.

couldn’t have possibly been him, he’s not weird like that. you thought to yourself catching up with your friends.

he in fact was weird like that. because as soon as he got back to his dorm he grabbed his keys and drove to the closet mall, dashing straight to bath and body works to purchase the exact lotion he saw you use. even willing to stand in the long line, just to have the scent of you closer.

as soon as he got back to his dorm he immediately locked the door, his roomate should’ve been at a lecture during that time so he had nothing to worry about.

he sat on his bed and read through the contents of the lotion. opening the cap he squeezed a little bit onto his hand, rubbing it in and inhaling the intoxicating smell. it was too much for him.

he looked around before slowly undoing his belt and pulling out his dick. he rubbed his tip collecting the precum and rubbing it on his shaft.

he knew it was a bad idea to do what he was about to do. surely this lotion wasn’t good to be used as lube, especially considering it was scented and it could probably cause issues. but he just couldn’t find it in himself to care. he squeezed a generous amount of the lotion onto his hand and rubbed it onto his pulsing cock.

he thought about you while pumping, all his brain was focused on was the sweet smell, he wanted it to be your hand instead of his. your saliva instead of the lotion. he wished he could get even closer to you than he does in class.

his heavy pants and the wet sounds of him stroking himself were the only noises in the still, quiet room. he squeezed himself tighter, picking up his pace as he moaned your name.

“ y-y/n…. y/n what do i… have to do… to get closer to you” he groaned breathily

his long hair stuck to his forehead and neck, imagining what he would do to you if you were his. bending you over his desk, stuffing you with his twitching, sticky cock. there was so much he wanted to do to you, he was gonna do it. he would find a way to lure you in.

he felt himself getting closer to his high, tears brimmed his waterline from the pleasure he felt. hands starting to become shakier, as well as his rythym.

whines left his parted lips as strings of his white semen dispersed onto the wiry brown hairs on his lower abdomen. his abs were drenched in sweat, rising up and down as he sat trembling.

vanilla mocha martini still lingered in the air.

。

jean: it’s very hard to find him perverted bcs i feel he’s more respectful. BUT i didn’t say he wasn’t. he comments on your body often, even during the worst of times.

“your ass looks nice in those jeans, wear em’ more often.”

you and him would both laugh off the comment. and he created a mental image (maybe even a physical image) of your ass and painted it and hung it on his walls. it’s curves, dips, every detail of it. everytime he looks at it he… thinks and gets hornier, then relives himself. he probably pulled it off the wall once just to cum all over it. it probably would’ve been artsier if he left the cum on it, but that would lowkey be too much for any guests. an ass on the wall is already a lot.

~

you sat next to your brother’s best friend jean while your brother got up. your brother had invited you along with him to have dinner. he didn’t mention jean being there but it didn’t matter that much to you. jean was cool, you liked him. though you’ve only been aquatinted to him very few times he was very funny and charming in the stories you heard about him.

your brother had left off to the restroom leaving you and jean alone at the table. jean liked you, a lot for a good amount of time. he stalked all your social media, your brother and your parents’ socials. he always made sure to listen whenever your brother mentioned you and how annoying you could be.

“i don’t know man, she doesn’t sound that bad” he would say, imagining the scene in his head.

of course he never told your older brother about it for so many reasons including the fact you’d probably end up finding out about it. he wanted to let you know his feelings on his own.

brown eyes scanned the entirety of your outfit. the tight fitting gray long sleeve , your jewelry, and especially those jeans. blue jeans that were so very tight, revealing your curves in all the right ways. he couldn’t help but to sneak a glimpse at your ass any time you stood up.

you got up to go wash your hands and felt a hand grip your waist. his thirsty eyes met yours complimenting your dress choice.

“you’re body looks amazing, especially your ass.” he winked slyly at you.

your body grew hot and you gave him a weak smile. you laughed with a small thank you ignoring the last part of what he said. though it did make you feel good inside. even lower if you were honest with yourself.

the whole rest of the dinner felt heated, sweaty well at least it was to you. jean nonchalantly sat there talking to you and your brother as if he didn’t say anything to you at all. when it was over he gave you a hug, his large hands grabby at your fleshy hips. he gave you a kiss on both cheeks before waving you and your brother off.

as soon as he got home he took out his easel, paint and canvas. he was very artistic, he attended a very prestigious art school in which him and your older brother attended together.

he rough sketched your body, reflecting your form onto the canvas with a pencil. then he painted over the sketch. blue, red, brown so many colors. and a few hours when he was finally finished he fixated his eyes on his creation in amusement.

he loved it. looking at it he couldn’t help but touch himself as he stared at the canvas in admiration. he looked down whiled his hands went down to his underwear band, pulling it down slightly just enough for his hard dick to be freed. he bit his lip softly stroking himself looking back up and eyeing the portrait.

he groaned raspy, his pink tip peeking out of his fist after every stroke.

there’s no way she didn’t know what she was doing. she wore them on purpose, just for me.

so many thoughts flooding his muddled brain his eyes squinted and eyebrows cinched as he rubbed himself. heavy breaths, whines and moans filled his quiet apartment, the portrait sitting in between his legs not yet mounted.

“y/n honey i need you so bad, please you really don’t know just how bad i need you. i get so rilled up thinking of you. at this point i’m a creep with the things i do.” whines slipped from his pretty, pink lips.

“god what would eric even think of me doing something like this? painting an explicit portrait of his baby sister then jacking off to it? he would hate me wouldn’t he.” he laughed out of breath

his continued to get off, the cold rings on his fingers gliding against the veins on his shaft.

grunts left through gritted teeth as jean felt himself getting closer. he looked at the warm colors painted on the canvas in between his thighs and couldn’t help but to smirk to himself.

what’d he give to actually come all over your real ass is the last stable thought he had before he painted on the portrait even more.

with his own semen.

。

reiner: now he’s #1 perv on this list. he stares you up and down all the time, sometimes he doesn’t even bother hiding it. manages to find ways to see you naked. like he’d walk in on you while you’re changing bcs “he forgot his charger” he touches himself to your insta photos, your panties that he stole, literally anything that involves you bcs he’s that desperate, it’s lowkey pathetic. but i love me a pathetic man. he doesn’t even hide the fact that he wants to touch you, he’d find any kind of excuse and would touch you. he’s just really thirsty.

~

reiner sat on his couch staring at the frilly lace panties in his hands that he stole from your home. earlier you had invited him over in hopes he’d help you understand your work better. if he was being true to himself he didn’t care anything about calculus. he only came over so he could flirt with you.

when he sat down next to you at your desk he sat close. your legs and his were touching and you could hear his shaky breathing. and his hands, if they weren’t on the paper or on his phone they were on your thighs. rubbing and gripping your skin, and when you looked up at him he’d act completely oblivious and get back to teaching you.

he knew what he was doing. he told himself by the end of the day he would have you on that bed begging for his mercy. and that he did.

the whole time he endlessly flirted with you. his large hands rubbing your upper thigh and pinching your cheeks. he saw how he charmed you and finally gave in.

“you know you’re such a pretty girl. you’re the type of woman i’d want to fuck senselessly then marry.” his hand rubbed yours

you couldn’t believe that he just said that. your eyes trailed down to your thighs, his hands moving towards the inside.

“can we please just study.” you said staring forward trying not to pay attention to him.

“yeah sure ignore what i said i guess…” he sighed “ if you can get these ten correct i’ll give you a surprise.” he winked

you thought he’d buy you dinner, get you a small little gift, chips, candy, something. instead you lay on your bed griping his back as he thrusted his girthy cock into you.

“maybe this’ll help motivate you ” he grunted

“y-you’re so weird” you whined, your heart-shaped anklet charm hitting his neck.

“don’t act like you don’t like it” he growled in your ear sarcastically

long nails gripped onto the satin sheets for leverage as reiner pounded into you mercilessly. you didn’t understand why and how you even let him do this to you.

reiner was the word ‘pervert’ personified. always looking up peoples skirts, making smart comments, getting touchy. you detected something was probably going to happen with him in your home, but he was somewhat smart and you really needed help.

and you couldn’t deny the fact that it actually felt good and that he was very appealing to look at. it was just one of the last things you expected to be doing that friday night.

“keep going just like that” you hiccuped

“thought… i was weird?” he chuckled breathlessly into your ear.

you couldn’t even find it in you to give him a snarky reply as you were too occupied with how he was inside of you.

the way his sensitive tip rubbed against the ridges inside of you was enough to literally drive you both insane. he became more touchy as he went on.

“f-fuck, you’re so fucking cute. i’ve always wanted to fuck… you.” he groaned in your ear.

“i can… tell” you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“no seriously, i ain’t even smart. i had no clue …what i was talking about the whole…time.”

it was a scheme to get into your panties.

and it worked.

you couldn’t attempt to be upset at him either, because with the way your pussy gripped onto him and your ever so audible moans and whines left that mouth of yours, he knew you were enjoying it.

your labored breaths and his became louder as the tension in your room grew.

“you gonna let me cum inside of your precious cunt?”

you shook your head.

“awww… c’mon it’s not… gonna be… that bad” he taunted in between heavy breaths

he didn’t care because he was gonna do just as he pleased.

“oh god reiner” your nails scratched at his sweaty back feeling yourself reach your orgasm.

you tightened around him while your pretty eyelashes fluttered as he still pounded into you, heavy balls slapping your pretty cunt.

greedy lips kissed your neck, chin and cheeks, the scratchy stubbly feeling blending in with the overstimulation.

“ m’ gonna cum all inside of you y/n” he nipped at your neck

you felt as he his cock frantically twitched inside of you, his grip on you becoming tighter.

he moaned almost inaudibly into your ear as he filled your womb with his silky cum.

♡

tags!: @hangesgirlypop @negrospirit @yiugen

a/n: just started the taglist! u can always b apart of it w the form on my pinned post if u want! (^з^)♡ also if there’s someone else u wanna see feel free to request!! (￣∀￣)

[tsunami-of-tears]

Someplace better

Azriel x Reader

A/N: This is dark. There are no happy endings. Please read the warnings.

Wordcount: <1K

Warnings: angst doesn’t even cut it; emotionally abusive family dynamic; suicide; it does not end well, you’ve been warned.

My mother is a horrible wench. 

We just had yet another fight that ended in screaming and tears and slammed doors. 

I thought our relationship was getting better. I was trying to open up about the struggles I’ve been having, only to have them all thrown back in my face. 

“Before you point the finger at everyone else, maybe you need to consider that you’re the problem,” she sneers. 

I’d been trying to tell her how overwhelmed I felt, that I felt stuck and couldn’t see a way out. I can feel myself starting to crack under the pressure, pieces of me splintering as I try to be everything for everyone. 

No matter how hard I try, it’s not enough. There’s always something I’m not doing, something not done right. 

‘You’re a failure and a burden,’ that little voice says, harmonising with my mother’s insults.

“I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself,” she says dismissively. 

So much for motherly love… 

————

Later that evening, I’m heading to the River House for a family dinner. These events have become less frequent with everyone’s busy schedules, and I’m looking forward to seeing my friends. 

Rhysand greets me at the door, pulling me into a hug. “Y/N, it’s been too long,” he smiles down at me warmly. “Everyone else is here already, come in.” 

“It’s good to see you, I’ve missed everyone,” I give Rhys a tight smile in return. 

Time appears to stop as we walk down the hallway. The awkwardness drags on for what feels like forever. My thoughts race with things I could say, but my tongue cannot form the words. Rhys notices my silence, furrowing his brows at me. I plaster a huge smile on my face, attempting to conceal my inner turmoil. I can’t tell if Rhys picks up on my forgery. 

We enter the living room which is alive with chatter between my friends. 

Mor, Feyre and Cassian are laughing together, likely about something Cassian said. 

Amren and Nesta are engaged in a heated discussion.

And then Azriel… He’s with Elain, talking softly together about gods knows what. My heart starts to crack at the sight. 

I really don’t want to get between Nesta and Amren, and I can’t face Azriel and Elain together, so I sit next to Cassian as Rhys perches on the arm of the chair beside Feyre. He leans down to kiss her softly on the top of her head and I look away quickly, the crack growing until I feel like my heart is split in two.

Cassian gives me a quick peck on the cheek as I sit before returning to his conversation with Feyre and Mor. 

I struggle to engage with anyone, feeling more alone than ever while surrounded by my chosen family. 

————

The rest of the night is much of the same. 

Every single word is a monumental effort. 

I’m hyper-aware of every single person around the table. Every single smile and hidden touch. I feel as if I’m watching from behind a window. I’m on the outside. Alone.

‘They’ll be fine without you,’ that little voice whispers in my ear. ‘Look how happy they are. They don’t need you. All your efforts are wasted. You are a waste.’

After dinner I bid everyone goodnight, heading up to my room. 

I miss the concerned glances between my friends, who noticed I’ve been extra quiet tonight.

I miss the shadows that follow behind me. 

I miss the way Azriel zones out from what Elain is saying as he watches me leave. 

————

I can’t remember the last time I stayed in this room but all my things remain untouched. Clothing, journals, even some beauty products - all where I left them. 

I pick up one of my old journals and flip through the pages. I mostly write down the bad stuff. It usually helps get the feelings out, but right now, it’s only adding to the storm that’s brewing inside me. 

I carefully set down the books in a stack on my nightstand, picking up a scrap of parchment. As I always do, I write. 

I’m sorry to do this here, tonight, but I cannot go on any longer.  I truly believe this is for the best. The world was not made for people like me. I’m far too soft.  I love you all. Y/N

I set the note down on the bed and rummage through my various medicines. I’ve always struggled to sleep, so I should have some extra tonics in here somewhere… 

I find four bottles of sleeping tonic in one of my drawers, plus the one in my pocket. 

I arrange them on the nightstand in a straight line. 

I pick up the first bottle, uncorking it and raising it in the air. 

A toast, to finding someplace better.

I bring the glass rim to my lips, chugging the clear liquid. 

One down. Just a few more. 

I make short work of the remaining bottles, though I feel a bit queasy from the sheer volume. 

As I set down the last bottle, a wisp of darkness curls around my wrist and snakes between the empty bottles. 

“You’re too late,” I tell it. 

The shadow vanishes and my eyes start to droop. 

I lay down on the bed, my entire body feeling heavy. 

As I feel myself losing the battle for consciousness, a mass of dark shadows appears next to the bed. 

Azriel. 

He is frantic as he reaches towards me. 

So close. He was so close. 

I never get to feel those hands again as the world fades to black and I give myself over to the endless sleep. 

A/N: I’m not gonna lie and say I’m okay when clearly I’m not, but I’m not unsafe tonight. 

Mental Health Resources*:  If you’re in immediate danger please call your country’s emergency number. Australia: Beyond Blue: https://www.beyondblue.org.au/ Mental Health Hotline: 1800 011 511 Lifeline: 13 11 14 USA:  Crisis Line (call or text): 988 UK:  Lifeline: 0808 808 8000 *If I have gotten anything wrong or if you have other resources to add, please let me know

[writingwithfolklore]

3 Important things about Traditional Publishing

                This post is for people who want to be traditionally published. If you’re down to Indie publish, or are only interested in posting your own fiction online—don’t worry about it!

                First things first, traditional (or trad) publishing is when you go through an editor at a publishing house and they publish your book. They also take a hefty percentage of the profits, but handle the editing, cover design, titling, promotion, etc. for you. Sometimes you may also go through a literary agent who will represent you (send your work and advocate for you) to publishing houses.

                Indie publishing (independent) is when you do it on your own, also known as self publishing. You have more control, but have to build a team behind you to help you edit, design, format, promote, etc. (or do it all yourself). and it can be difficult to get your book in places like book stores and libraries since they usually only do dealings with publishing houses.

                With that out of the way, let’s talk 3 important things I know about trad publishing.

1. Don’t share your work online

If you want to be traditionally published, don’t post any of your work online anywhere. Including little bits and pieces, including excerpts, including characters, including titles. Nothing. Keep it locked down.

                This is because many trad publishing contracts will consider you posting your work online as it being “previously published”, and may reject your work for that reason. To be on the safe side, don’t put any of your work online or submit it to other journals/magazines.

2. Be prepared to let go of some of the decision making.

When you go through lit agents and publishing houses, you give up an amount of creative control to get your work published. They just want to make it as good (and marketable) as possible, so trust that they know what they’re talking about.

                This means they may choose your title, you may not have any control over the cover image, they might even ask you to get rid of a character or change the ending or any other amount of larger edits. You are allowed to reject some ideas, but choose your battles. Taking this feedback and making these edits is what will get your work published, so if that is your goal, be accommodating, trust that they have so much experience and will make your work better.

3. You should NEVER have to pay them

If you’re paying a traditional publisher to publish your work, you are being scammed. The money works this way:

The reader buys the book for say $20.

To make this simple, let’s say $20 then goes to the publishing house.

They take 50%, so $10 goes to your literary agent (if you have one).

They take another 50% so $5 goes to you.

Never, ever should the money be flowing the opposite direction where you are giving money to these businesses to publish your work. I will say it again, if you are paying these people, you are being scammed.

This is really important, because I knew a girl who was working three jobs to get her work published. They were asking for almost 20K. My heart absolutely breaks for her—she just didn’t know that that’s not how it’s supposed to work.

Whether it’s 20k, $100, or 3 cents. You don’t pay them.

(Of course, if you’re in indie publishing this is a whole different story. In indie, you pay people to do any of the work you don’t want to do. If you need an indie editor, you pay them, if you want an artist to design your cover, you pay them. This rule only applies to trad publishing!)

Anything else important that I missed?

[scrubbinn]

Slime HRT Day 1: First Pages

I was told I should write down my experiences in this journal. I'm only really doing this because I was told I didn't have to share my writings with anyone except for emergencies, whatever that means. Today is the first day of my new life, and becoming something not human anymore.

I've seen a lot of social media about species HRT. I think it’s supposed to be “Human Removal Therapy”. There’s a lot of people online bashing it, and I'm sure someone is going to try and ban it eventually, but for right now it's pretty unrestricted. To be honest, I am fascinated by it. Becoming something inhuman seemed so, I don't know, cool I guess, but it felt distant, like it would never happen to me, or I'd be labeled a freak by my friends. It was only until my girlfriend brought it up in a passing conversation that I gained the courage to admit I was curious about it. She said I should go for it. The amount of joy I felt then and there was like a 20 ton weight had just exploded out of my chest, but in a good way! We spent the rest of the night talking about treatments and articles, I never felt so happy except then and there, to be seen like that.

My legs were shaking when I met with that doctor. I was told it was normal to be nervous, but it really felt like I was going to just have a breakdown the entire time we talked. There was a lot of psychological exams and way, WAY too much paperwork that basically said I was sure I would be happy and cool with going through with this process. The doctor was patient at least, though he was rude with how little he tried to hide the boredom of his job. Besides that, there was something about him that just made him feel like this was the last thing he wanted to do, the kind of man who’s a total pushover. We eventually got to the question I was dreading “what was I here for, what am I looking to be?” My voice just suddenly stop working right there. It's so funny how I saw an actual dragon on my way here and somehow my request seemed so much more ridiculous. That stupid doctor kept prying me to just tell him until my frustration surpassed my anxiety, and I was able to blurt out that I wanted to be a slime.

I don't know when or why, but I've always liked the idea of slimes. It's their fluidity I think. Being able to morph myself the way I want whenever I want. I mean, how can I trust I'll be happy with my body shape everyday when I can't even pick a favorite color. I spent so much time writing out my own ideas of how their biology worked, or creating a bunch of slime girls for stories I never finished writing. It took me a while to realize I wanted to be just like them, like how it took me a while to realize I wanted to be a girl too.

I thought I'd get laughed out of his office, I mean I've seen the photos and stories of people on slime HRT but it just felt different, like I was going one step too far, I was probably just super anxious, I felt so relieved when he just showed me a list of slime variants instead of laughing. There were so many different options on the list, slimes made of just gel, sap, wax, and there were so many different colors, but that was the problem, they all felt right, I wanted to be any of them.

It was so selfish to ask, but I needed to know if a slime that could change color was possible, or something that could truly transform into any kind of slime. He asked what I meant, if I was looking into becoming a shapeshifter. I shook my head no and said I wanted something like a chameleon. He took off his glasses and pinched his nose, like the weight of every request he ever had just hit him. We, kind of, argued for a while. Well it was him telling me all the different reasons it wouldn’t work or how some people had set up safe LED strips to become a slime strobe globe of different colors, but for some reason it was the one thing I didn’t want to budge on. The one thing I was certain I wanted was that I wouldn’t be certain about my final choice. I was actually ready to just punch this old man until he suddenly folded to my demands and told me he'd need time to make a new variant for something like that. Something about a membrane and chromatophores I think. He also stated, bluntly, that I still needed to pick the type of slime. Being able to switch from red to blue is one thing but there needs to be a base. 

There were a lot of good options, to the point it took me an hour to go through everything and just think about it. I was probably pushing him a bit too close to his next appointment with how long I was searching through options. It certainly makes me wonder how anyone can just know the answer right away. Eventually I had to settle on one and chose the soap variant. I was told it wasn’t actual soap, but it smelled nice and helped deal with germs. I’m not a germaphobe but I like the idea of smelling nice all the time.

After that, I was told I would be contacted eventually when my medication was ready. The wait could be best be described as brutal. There were a lot of calls I made only for me to be told it wasn’t ready yet. I thought I got scammed, like I went to the wrong place and that quack doctor was just faking everything and I wouldn't ever get to be the real me. The most I got was a message once a month saying the research was going well, if I was lucky. 

It was about a year when I got a call back from him, explaining that my medication was ready. I'll be honest, I thought he wouldn't have ever completed it and just stole $600 out of my bank account for a single appointment. I have it now though, a bottle of gel capsules. They taste awful, like shoving soap into my mouth, which makes sense thinking about it. Apparently I won't need to take my normal hormone medication after a bit. Which is good because it's really expensive to pay for both. I guess that concludes my thoughts on the first day. The doc wants me to keep writing down my physical changes but also that I write down my emotional state as well. I don't really get why that’s so important, but whatever, it’s the least I can do if I finally get to be the slime girl I always wanted to be. I can't wait to see how I turn out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next

Thank you for reading through this story. While I’m sure it’s obvious, this is a story inspired by @ayviedoesthings own Dragon HRT as well as @welldrawnfish Fish HRT. I’ve loved these stories ever since they first came out. But I never felt like I had a story of my own to write until I read @sandyca5tle own slime HRT. Please check out all these people’s stories if you haven’t already, and thank you to sandyca5tle for really lighting the fire in me that made me want to try my hand at this sort of thing. I have plans to continue this for a while, not sure how long it’ll be but I want to be able to write a new segment at least one post every one to two weeks. I hope you enjoyed this, and please let me know if you have any advice on how to improve my writing. Thank you so much for reading all this, seriously, it means the world to me. 

[theoreticslut]

「 like she hung the stars 」

steve harrington x fem reader

summary: although you’ve been with steve for nearly a year, you can’t help but wonder if he’s using you as a stand-in for nancy. 

requested: yes

word count: 3.1k

warnings: pretty angsty but it has a cute, fluffy-ish ending; mentions of alcohol consumption & being drunk, insecure relationship, pet names (baby, babe & sweetheart), mention of future relationship, mention of marriage & children

a/n: this request was so cute!! i had to write it asap, & i’m lowkey in love with it if i do say so. it’s really kind of angsty the entire way through, but there’s a cute ending. i really have a hard time leaving a fic ansgty. it’s a weakness of mine. anyways, i hope you all like this! Xx

It’s been well over an hour since you and Steve arrived at this house party, which has given you plenty enough time to drink your fair share of the spiked punch. It was potent, but it was drinkable, and it got you drunk which is all you wanted. 

You hadn’t ever told Steve that you felt insecure in your relationship, mainly because the reasoning behind it felt silly. He had asked you out a few months after he and Nancy broke up last year, which shouldn’t be of any concern, but you had seen them while they were together. It was clear that Steve loved her - deeper than you’d ever thought possible. 

Having noticed this, you couldn’t stop the thought of him still loving her - even though he was currently with you - from settling in the recesses of your mind. You couldn’t stop the thought from tormenting you late at night, even when he slept beside you.

Within the last few months the thought had only become more incessant, tormenting you not just late at night anymore, but throughout the day as you went about your classes and your clubs, even when you sat around talking with him and his friends. It was exhausting, but you couldn’t easily ignore it anymore. Not when you’ve been finding Steve staring at her more and more whenever she was around. 

Hence why you’re getting drunk off of shitty punch at some house party that you’re not even sure who’s throwing. You were simply tagging along with Steve, and even he had wandered off from you.

At first it was fine, you knew he was popular around school and it had been a few months since he graduated. You figured he was just catching up with old friends and classmates. 

Within the last half hour though, you spotted him chatting with Nancy and her boyfriend, Jonathan. You didn’t want to think anything of it, knowing they were trying to be friends, but as you watch him laughing and smiling at Nancy, you can’t help the ache that settles in your heart.

Not thinking much of it, you find yourself taking a deep breath before cautiously making your way over to the small group. You didn’t want to come off as insecure or jealous, but you couldn’t sit back and watch the scene any longer. Figuring that you’d test the waters by nonchalantly approaching them, you do just that.

Although worried that Steve might get upset with you joining them, you’re relieved when he smiles as you come up next to him. Wrapping an arm around your waist, you let your head rest on his chest as he continues talking.

“No, th-that’s really cool, man. I hope you like it.” Steve comments, replying to something that had been said before you came over.

“Yeah, I-I do. It’s nice. Pays decent enough, you know?” Jonathan mumbles, chuckling awkwardly as Steve nods.

Without even being a part of the conversation you can tell it’s been awkward like this for some time.

“Nance is actually, uh, looking to apply there this summer too.” 

“Really? That’s awesome. I mean, y-you do like journalism. I’m sure it’ll be, you know, a great fit.” Steve mentions, Nancy nodding politely with a terse smile on her lips. 

“‘M gonna get another drink, Steve.” You murmur, wanting to leave the awkward aura of their conversation. That and you really don’t care to hear how much Steve knows about Nancy.

“You’re not done with this one though?” He questions, having noticed your cup was still about half full when you first came over here.

Tilting it to make sure he hadn’t seen it incorrectly, he frowns when he realizes it’s actually more than half full. Only then does he notice just how much you’re leaning against him for support while your eyes are half closed.

“Baby, are you drunk?” 

“No, just tired.” You huff, your speech sluggish as you answer him. 

As you do so, though, you attempt to take a step back to look at him, but you stumble and spill your drink all over yourself.

“Shit. Let’s get you cleaned up, baby. Yeah?” He questions, taking the cup from your hand as he holds you up.

“Sorry guys.” You hear him apologize to Nancy and Jonathan and you can’t help but feel a little hurt.

You know it’s irrational, he’s essentially just excusing the two of you from the conversation, but in your intoxicated state you feel like he’s ashamed of you - like you’re an embarrassment he didn’t want them to see.

As the thought settles in your head, you pay no attention as Steve leads you through the crowded house to find the bathroom upstairs. You don’t even realize you’re in the bathroom until he closes the door behind the two of you, starting to  look for a cloth he can wet and dab your shirt with. 

“I don’t know how you’ve been drinking that punch all night, sweetheart. Shit’s strong.” He chuckles as he crinkles his nose at the smell of the cup as he tosses it out.

“Not that bad.” You mumble, staring at your hands as you sit on the sink counter while he continues searching for a cloth.

“Aha, found it.” Steve smiles, not even acknowledging that you said anything. Truthfully you’re not even sure he heard you, but it doesn’t matter.

You watch as Steve wets the cloth, squeezing the excess water out of it before he brings his attention to you and the stain on your shirt.

“You liked this shirt, too, babe. You gotta be careful.” He comments, voice gentle as he begins to dab at the stain, holding the material away from your body as he carefully presses the wet cloth to it.

You figure he’s just talking to fill the silence so you let him, not worrying about responding.

“‘M not sure how well this is going to come out, but we’re going to try, okay?”

~.~

Steve frowns lightly when he doesn’t hear anything from you. He wasn’t expecting a long answer of any sorts, in fact he wasn’t even expecting a single word, but he did expect a little hum or something from you. 

Bringing his attention to your face, he realizes you’re staring at your shirt as he works, but that your mind is somewhere else entirely.

“What’re you thinking about, sweetheart?” He murmurs, continuing to work on the material in his hands, using a hand to lift your chin to look at him briefly.

“What’s on that pretty little mind of yours, huh?” 

He can’t stop the small smile that comes to his lips as he glances up at you, taking a moment to realize just how pretty you are sitting here.

“Nothin’.” 

“Nothing? You sure, baby?” He frowns, having noticed how your shoulders dropped when you answered him, not to mention the fact that you started wringing your hands together - a nervous habit of yours.

He doesn’t like the idea of you keeping something from him, especially if it’s something that upsets you. 

“Do you love me?” You suddenly question, voice seeming scared.

“Do I lov-? Of course I love you, y/n.” He splutters, not sure where this would have come from.

“Why would you think I don’t, sweetheart?” 

“You’ve just, you’ve been watching Nancy a lot when she’s around.” You mumble, still wringing your hands together as Steve settles his hands either side of you on the counter, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he frowns. 

He can’t help the ache that begins in his chest as he listens to you already sounding defeated. Scanning over your face, he can’t help but sigh deeper when he realizes you won’t look at him.

“Will you look at me, y/n?”

~.~

You can feel him watching you still as you softly shake your head, being too anxious to do so if he’s going to study you, which you know he will. He may have portrayed himself as an asshole most of his life, but deep down he’s always been a softie, taking great care to notice things about those he cares for. 

He doesn’t like hurting people, which is why he’s so meticulous when it comes to reading others emotions. He doesn’t want to miss something.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her, like she’s the moon on an otherwise dark night. You look at her like she hung the stars in the sky…” you start, needing to get all of this off your chest.

You can’t hold onto the ache any longer without some sort of an answer. You can handle the hurt that would come if he does still love her, but you can’t bear this ache of not knowing if he actually loves you like he says he does.

“It’s…it’s the same way you looked at her when you were dating. When you loved her.” You murmur, feeling your throat tighten up with the threat of tears.

Taking a moment to breathe through the onslaught of emotion, you will the ache of threatened tears to fade away so you can finish your thoughts. You need to tell him how you’ve been feeling, not smother them into coercion. 

“I can’t shake the feeling that you maybe still love her. That I’m just…a placeholder until you can have her again.”

A silence falls in the small bathroom as you get the words out, only glancing up to him to see if he’s still listening. At the extended lull of conversation, you feel your stomach start to twist with dread. 

You had a feeling that you were simply a distraction for him, but you didn’t want to admit it, afraid that if you did it’d make it a reality.

“I’m not going to lie…” he starts, clearing his throat.

“I do still love her, and I think a part of me always will. She woke me up from the dreamworld I lived in for so many years.”

You nod, a fat, unannounced tear falling from your eye straight to your anxiously-tangled hands.

“But I’m with you, sweetheart, and I plan to stay with you until you get sick of me.” He smiles, grabbing one of your hands in his and squeezing to let you know he’s there with you. 

A moment passes without a word before he lifts your chin up with a finger of his free hand so he can meet your eyes.

Finding them filled with fat, unshed tears, he frowns with an aching heart. Wiping the tears away as they begin to fall over your lash line, he brings his lips to your forehead with a soft kiss.

“I am so sorry to have made you feel this way, sweetheart. I never meant to make you feel so insecure in our relationship. I love you, and I don’t ever want you to feel like I don’t.”

“Nancy and I are in the past and I know it. I accept it. I wasn’t what she wanted, and that’s okay. She left me so I could find you, and everyday I’m happier because of it. You make me happy, baby, and I don’t want you to forget that.”

“I-if that’s true, then why have you been watching her so much? Why are you so awkward around her?” You question, sniffling as occasional tears still roll down your cheeks.

“I watch her because I do still love her and wonder what would have happened if things worked out, but I know she’s happy with Jonathan so I let it be. Her and I are done, y/n, I promise you.” 

“If she were to say she still loved you too, would you go back to her?”

“I don’t know.” Steve sighs as you nod, heart feeling as if it’s cracking a little more as you drop your head back down to look at your lap.

“I’m not sure she ever really loved me if I’m honest. I was a shit boyfriend to her, baby, and she realized that. She’s the one who ended the relationship in search of something better, and I don’t blame her one bit. I needed a wake up call and she gave me that.”

“She gave me the push I needed to change myself and be a better person so I can be better to you. I want to be better for you, and I don’t think I could leave you just because of her saying she still loves me. You mean the world to me, sweetheart.”

~.~

Steve simply watches as you nod at his words and he can tell you don’t believe him. He doesn’t blame you, knowing how ruthless invasive, insecure thoughts can be. He especially knows how hard it is to let go of them when you’ve got actions to back them up.

It pains him to think he was feeding into your insecurities of the relationship by watching Nancy. He never meant anything by it. He was simply thinking of the “what if’s,” but he never once thought about leaving you for those daydreams. 

He knows that they’re irrational anyway. Him and Nancy don’t work, and even after he’s bettered himself, he’s positive that it still wouldn’t work between them. 

You and him on the other hand? He can see you two working out. He can see himself marrying you and settling down here in Hawkins - or wherever you want to go. He can see the two of you having children together, both of you running around outside with them with wide smiles on your faces. 

He can see himself making you coffee before you’re even awake only so he can wake you up with it and a kiss day after day for the rest of his life, and he can see himself loving you even when the two of you are old and gray. He can see himself with you, and he only hopes you can see it too.

Watching you sit here, though, heart breaking in front of him on the counter in the bathroom of some long-forgotten house party, he can’t help but feel like he’s screwed everything up. He loves you and yet you so easily believe that he loves someone else.

“Y/n, I love you. I love you more than I ever thought possible, and it honestly scares me.”

He can see you let out a shaky breath even though you’re refusing to look at him. He’s sure his words are simply going in one ear and out the other because you’re already convinced that he doesn’t love you even though he’s been trying to prove otherwise.

“I can see us getting married sometime down the road, you know?” He mentions, voice soft as he lets himself be vulnerable with you. 

Sure he’s been honest with you about everything so far, but he hasn’t been vulnerable. He’s been trying to reassure you with empty words instead of letting you see how he actually feels. 

“I think about our wedding quite often actually,” he chuckles, embarrassed to admit that fact.

“I think of how it’ll be filled with everyone who loves us and wants us to be happy. I think about that first dance we’ll have together, and how I’ll say something cheesy just to get you to smile and laugh as we pretend there’s no one else in the room.” 

“I think about all the planning we’d have to do for it, and how I want to be there for every part of it. I don’t want you to do all the planning and stressing when it’s just as much my day as it is yours. I mean, it’ll be the day I marry the love of my life. How could I leave all the planning for such an important day to one person when I’m the only one who can answer for what I want?”

“I mean, what if you choose seat covers with a bow and I want simple seats with personalized place cards?” He asks, smiling when he hears you chuckle at the absurdity. 

“I can see us sharing that first kiss as husband and wife, and it makes me all jittery inside at the sheer happiness it brings me.”

~.~

“I can see this, y/n. I can see us, and I never once saw it with Nancy.” 

“With Nance, it was more of a ‘I see us sitting at lunch together’ thing than it was a ‘I see us, still married at the age of 85’ thing.” 

You can’t help the little snort that leaves your lips as you think of yourself and Steve at 85 years old. It surprises you, but you find it easy to see the picture yourself. You’ve never thought much about it, too afraid that it’d be getting your hopes up, but you can see yourself marrying Steve and it makes your stomach tingle and your chest feel light.

“All the big stuff, though? I see you at my side for all of it, y/n.” Steve finishes and you take the risk to look up at him.

Meeting his eyes you catch a glimpse of uncertainty within him. He can see this, but he worries that you can’t, and for some reason that’s enough for you to believe him.

Laughing at how pitiful you must look, you wipe at your cheeks before you grab one of his hands, playing with his fingers as he watches you. You love him, and for the first time in a long time you believe that he loves you too.

“Just for the record,” you start, blushing a bit as you think about the words about to leave your mouth and the sheer absurdity of it all.

“I think specialized place cards are a must, and that seat covers with bows are terribly tacky.” 

Looking up at him as you pause your anxious playing with his fingers, you watch as a smile breaks out on his face, wider than you’ve ever seen from him as he laughs in disbelief.

“I love you, y/n. I love you so fucking much.” He smiles, not hesitating to bring his hands up to your jaw as he kisses you fiercely and yet still so soft.

You can feel all the heartache he was feeling at your admission through the kiss, just like you can feel all the happiness inflating him now. He wants you, and you’ve never felt more sure of that fact. 

As he keeps his lips on yours, although the kiss grows softer and more smiley, you feel your heart slowly being glued back together, and you can’t help but smile at the realization that all you needed was a little bravery and honesty in order to feel so secure with him. It’s a new feeling, but one that’s pleasantly welcomed as you let yourself completely melt into the kiss - and into Steve - for the first time since he asked you out.

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[agendabymooner]

mamma mia (again) ! daniel r. x ofc (måneskin member! ofc)

“they ask me why i’m so hot, ‘cause i’m italiano.”

summary: a series of video clips, but it’s only just danny ric being in love with a certain lester alessandro.

content warning: hint or two of suggestive comments (nothing detailed or graphic), use of explicit language, filler blurb or something, danny being a simp for few videos straight (“have my kids” type beat), lester being an etsy and pinterest enthusiast, literally posted this blurb from my phone so they’re crazy about their image limits 😩

note: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE 105 FOLLOWERS?! UHM? seriously, i’ve never been so happy. i honestly only started posting these because i have them ingrained in my brain and won’t let go until i write or make something. just indulging my imagination you know? enjoy xx

masterlist

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐁𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐏

【VIDEO ONE — daniel ricciardo is a gatekeeper】

[1st image: yeah, i dunno. everyone just found out that i made it official with my girlfriend and i’m pretty sure i just saw lando weeping in his room. max was the second to react to it and i’m so sure he recoiled. he did say that he didn't want to know what happened in imola few months ago.]

[2nd: interviewer: what happened in imola few months ago? daniel: *chuckles* wouldn’t you like to know - nah, i’m messing about. nothing happened in imola besides from me retiring to my bed early. i think we were both drunk when i posted that photo and i know it looks lewd but there's no way we could've done anything questionable.]

[3rd: d: but yeah. we didn't really want to catch that much attention until maybe i don't know... when we're married or something *chuckles* i: keep it a secret until the wedding? d: yeah. but charles, the absolute fool, posted videos during the concert with me in the background. It would've been real nice if no one caught onto it until we had a mini ric running and racing, you know? just to wreak havoc.]

【VIDEO TWO — daniel ricciardo talks about lester’s love language in his gq video】

[1st: i got this journal from lori. it has my initials "DR" on it for daniel ricciardo*laughs* it's one of those many first gifts that i’ve gotten from her throughout our first few months of dating. her love language isn't just shitting on my life -she has every single aspect of love language within her and this is one of them.]

[2nd: when she gave this to me, all she said was "you can write out your thoughts if you can't let them out through your mouth. *giggles* "she clearly had her thoughts sorted out that time especially when she showed me a page with an embossed phrase or nickname, "tasso di miele" - it means honey badger. she apparently bought the custom embosser from etsy and almost fought tooth and nail just to get it in time. *laughs even more* i love her so much, i honestly wanted to cry that day.]

[3rd: lori actually has a laptop with *laughs* itunes on it and she still got some playlists from 2010-2014? yeah. she’s put a lot of old taylor swift songs in my ipod during the christmas break. my favourite album right now is speak now. she loves red.]

【VIDEO THREE — lester hates ashy hands confirmed】

[1st: daniel: i think i should just cover my hands with gloves all the time. lando: that literally has nothing to do with anything that we're about to do. d: lori tells me that my hands are rough whenever she holds them.]

[2nd: l: or you know... you can just use a hand lotion all the time because your hands dry up real fast? d: ah that's true. i wonder if that's why lori just casually put a bottle of hand cream on my travel bag. the thing smells nice though. it’s chamomile.]

【VIDEO FOUR — it’s okay to spoil your partner; even if it’s an accent chair from her pinterest board】

[1st: d: lori just sent me a picture of an armchair from ikea. l: why was she randomly in ikea, by the way? I saw the text. d: window shopping. but anyway, she saw this armchair that she had on her pinterest board. she asked "pretty or no?" with the green velvet chair. l: what did you tell her?]

[2nd: word to word? I texted her "LOL you should see the accent chair I've gotten you for our flat in monaco." l: are you serious? *laughs* d: she wouldn't tell me what she wanted for her birthday. I only got a brief idea when she left her phone in my pocket once and gave me a free access to her pinterest boards.]

[moneymartin]

teen gf Shauna headcanons pleaseee

🐶 - losergf!shauna hcs

warnings: mostly fluff but a lil smut under the divider :p

a/n: i know u didn’t ask for loser but shauna shipman is soooo loser girlfriend u cannot tell me otherwise. kinda messy and trash… i’m so sleepy rn i’m writing this half awake nd lowk a lil drunk UGH

taglist: @deerlottie @ultrone

my brown eyed beautiful baby where do i even start.

def the most athletic yj i will stand by this till the day i die

MUSCLE MAMAAAA

rolls up the sleeves of her flannels so you can see her muscles pop 😮‍💨

not a gym freak though but she works her arms 100%

cuddlebug fosho

little spoon and you can argue with me about that all you want this girl loves to be held

when she big spoons though she’s burying your face into her chest all the time

she plays with your hair tho no doubt abt it

even when you’re cuddling her instead

super soft kisses all over you while you doze off

sleeps after you do just to make sure cause sometimes you end up sleeping a lil too hard and she needs to make sure you aren’t dead

well thats what she thinks.

wakes up early even though she sleeps the latest out of the both of you

when you sleep for way too long she ends up full on wrestling you until you wake up

music geek

she def loves the smashing pumpkins, radiohead, the cranberries, the cure, mazzy star, jeff buckley, pavement, the cardigans. artists and bands of that genre

had a walkman like nat’s that you guys share on walks together

also has a vinyl player that she keeps at hers so you could listen to music with her when you come over

writes about you in her journal while she listens to the music

also writes these cute little love letters for you and she’ll write what songs she listened to while writing

sleepovers all the time though she’s one of those girls

drives you all over the place too

no matter how far so that you know she truly loves you

she goes absolutely nuts when you’re wearing her clothes i fink

esp her flannels

the moment you’re seen wearing one she can only think about taking it off of you cause it looks so good 😞

loves when you wear her jersey too

or her letterman jacket

funny sock gal

wears the one w monster faces on em or something like that

south park socks… hmo

SMARTY PANTS

got accepted into brown for a reason

she’s always helping you with assignments in case they’re too hard

she runs through them so fast though it actually baffles you to how she can do it

book geek too

has probably read harry potter a million times

edgar allan poe is her main dude she def likes poems and stuff from him

genuinely has a momma instinct

before you even get sick she tells you to be careful with the cold

and you don’t listen.

so you do end up getting sick and she has to take care of you until you’re all better

babies you but is also teasing you cause you didn’t listen to her warnings about it 😭 she could tell beforehand that you were gonna get sick

unlike lottie i think shauna has the ability to cook and stuff like that

not a 5 star chef but she’s good enough for you

being touchy in her public is her thangggg

you guys are always touching somehow

pinky holding, interlocked arms, holding hands, her just grabbing your wrist. she’s always gotta hold you no matter whaaaat

not very possessive but definitely a jealous person

makes it known she’s jealous w her attitude

has those anger issues we all know it

is not afraid to make a scene in front of a bunch of people she will cuss someone out for even looking at you

but she’s just jealous cause she’s really insecure :( poor girl my god

she thinks that the people you talk to are better than she’ll ever be

you have to reassure her countless of times so she can feel better about herself cause she’s always questioning you abt it

she loves little make out seshes behind the bleachers

its def the thrill of being caught like she loves that so much 🥸

when she kisses you she isn’t rough i think she’s very gentle actually

caressing your jaw and cheeks so you know she’s there and its not just some dream 😭

loves sitting on your lap while kissing cause it makes her feel like she’s the one in charge

also cause your hands are always in the spots where she wants them without her having to ask

biting…

teeth marks EVERYWHERE!!!

dom fosho but that’s not relevant rn

during arguments this girl is ruthless

not because she wants to hurt you but it’s because she’s always bubbling up

bottles up everything cause she’s afraid people won’t listen to her

but she’ll apologize eventually after if it looks like whatever she said got to you

won’t mean anything she tells you she just gets so mad at everything cause she can’t express herself as well :(

she regrets it so fast too like she’s immediately saying sorry afterwards

def a lace girly

loves showing off her new sets for you…

red black and white are the favs

OUUHHH

whiny as fuck but also holds her noises in cause she thinks they’re embarrassing

PANTER AND GROANER FOR SUREEEE

switch i think

like if she really wanted to she could top you but she’d rather be a power bottom

have you ride her strap or whatever…

its blue.

loves when you eat her out though cause she gets to pull on your hair

makes you talk her through it and when you’re topping but when she tops shes SO bold

she loves when you praise her thats the only thing she wants to hear from you during it

makes you kiss around her tits for sure

thats where she always wants you to be

when she’s jealous you’re constantly asking if she’s okay which leads into an argument

meaning that it’ll probably lead into really hot angry sex from her

the car scene really spoke to me

initiates everything too

anyways i’m done i’m so tired

[callmeklair]

this has been on my mind for a while but still didn't say it because I didn't want people to come after me and cancel me. just know I like ayato, but I don't like the overrated hype on him by people. I'm not hating on Ayato stans, because I was one myself but this overrated hype got me out of it after discovering more knowledge on other characters.

the way some people hype the Ayato "overrate" is too much. like I get it Rejet gave a lot of signs of painting Ayato as the main lead, but it was prolly to have some easier ideas on merch and fanservice contents (like youngblood). yes there might me Rejet's favoritism too here, especially in anime, like all the boys barely have any interaction with Yui except when it came to suck her blood, but that wasn't the case with Ayato. I feel like if Rejet had shown favoritism towards Subaru or actually tried to highlight Shu or Reiji or even Laito's trauma like they did with Ayato, then the main love interest would have pointed towards them.

people saying that Ayato "truly" deserves to be the ML because he had it "worse" are we starting to compare everyones' trauma now??? I'm sorry but trauma can never be compared because everyone has their own experience, sufferings and hardships going through it.

alright if you wanna compare "worse" then, what Ayato had worse? Cordelia abusing him to study 24/7 to become number one and not letting him play + venting her anger out on him? then what about Shu??? as the first born I'm pretty sure it was way worse for him especially how strict and cold Beatrix was. and the only solace, his friend edgar aka Yuma, was also snatched by him. If you guys would have read Shu's LE vampire end starting monologue, then you guys would have known how Shu was talking about his trauma and how he dealt with it using music, pushing people away, etc. + plus it's side effect on him.

"Ayato forgave Cordelia in DF in his route even after what she did to him" okay? so did Yuma. He forgave Reiji for what happened in the past. Laito also forgave Cordelia in his DF route after discovering Karlheinz's journal. Carla was ready to help vampires, the species he hates the most, just on Yui's saying.

Yes Ayato had development, but I feel like Reiji, Ruki, Kou, Shu and Laito had the best one and more better development than him. Like through each and every game you can see them coming over trauma through Yui's help and becoming a better person. While in Ayato's case I just felt like they dumped the "main hero" plot on him by reviving Cordelia. yeah DF was the only route I saw his development while in other games, I didn't see much unlike what I witnessed with other characters.

Subaru was the green flag from the start and if Rejet would have given him the screen time instead of Ayato, he would have become the Main Interest.

[existentialgaybirdnerd]

How the 141 show love to each other

Ghost:

He sends Soap random pictures of flowers and stuff, the sunrise when he's up for it, or even a bumblebee he found resting on a flower. Knows how his coffee is made perfectly when it's homemade. Gives little forehead kisses when they're alone or with the 141 only. Will hook his ankle under Soap's feet and stay there for hours if necessary, anything to keep the contact.

He hands Gaz small things he likes, a particularly pretty leaf or a loose bolt he found on the ground. He also gives him samples of teas he thinks he'll like, makes sure to pay attention to if he needs a blanket.

He'll sit next to Price on a rough day and say nothing, just be a grounding presence. He'll save him his favorite foods from the mess hall and put them on his plate when Price comes and sits down.

He includes Laswell during team activities when possible, making sure she can take a call and face timing her so she can see the dumb shit that's happening, putting the phone in the best position to see the chaos. Sends her and her wife their favorite candies for holidays.

Soap:

Makes and fixes things for Ghost, sends him pictures of the stray cats he sees on his walks and while he's making his way around base. He knows Ghost's cafe coffee order by heart so he can order for him while they're in public. Cheek and nose kisses, likes to gently bite Ghost's cheek when they're alone, claims it's to "show dominance" but does it so softly that it just feels like a love nibble. Puts his hand under the mask at the back of Ghost's head and plays with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

Cuts Gaz's hair for him, Gaz once got a bad cut at the place he went to because they had a person who was new to styling do it hair so when he got mad about it back at base (not at the person, never at the person) Soap fixed it for him and made it better. Kicks his feet when he's nodding off in places he shouldn't be.

Steals Price's hat at least once a month to make sure nothing is falling off or tearing or ripped. During these inspections he'll add another bobble to the collection, something light and small to its unobtrusive. Draws little cute pictures and slips them in his vest pockets when he gets close enough.

Will send selfies and pictures of the group to Laswell, texting her a fun fact or a pun every day, telling a funny story about the recruits or what Gaz or Ghost or Price did that day too if there is one.

Gaz:

Gets Soap new drawing journals when he runs out, new pencils too. Gets him socks with dumb ass designs for Christmas and Halloween, the latter one because he thinks it's hilarious to give gifts then. Listens to and talks about special interests and really pays attention, even educating himself on aspects he doesn't know about.

He'll do the same thing for Ghost that Ghost does for Price. He'll sit next to him in silence and do his own thing while Ghost is having a bad time, waiting until he wants to speak. He learned sign language and taught Ghost so they could speak easier on days where his brain felt too heavy to conjure up the right syllables. Keeps every leaf Ghost gives him and puts them in a scrapbook with a date and location, shows Ghost after it's done.

Hugs Price almost religiously. He's Price's most common hugger, being the majority of where he gets his touch (platonic) so he's not touch starved. Will drag Price out of bed on a bad day since Price asked him to if he deems it an appropriate day to do so, will talk Price through boring paperwork and make it more fun so it goes faster.

While everyone else texts Laswell every day, he does every other day if that, leading to barely any exchanges but when there are some, they're meaningful to both of them. He's her vent partner, the person she goes to when she needs to complain about someone or something, he gives advice and is an overall good listener.

Price:

He gave Soap a fitbit once, something he won one time and never wore himself, he has the account linked on his phone so he can keep track of his heartbeat and sleeping habits, making sure he's getting enough rest and enough time to himself so he won't lose himself trying to be a people pleaser. He also gives him chocolates he knows Soap likes, orders them and stockpiles them for a bad day and then goes up to Soap and hands him a few wordlessly. Trying to silently tell him that he knows what he's going through and it's ok to break sometimes, to stop being strong sometimes.

When Ghost gives him his favorites from the mess, Price exchanges for Ghost's favorites. When he sees Ghost getting overwhelmed he tells him he needs to see him in his office and gets him out of the situation, handing him a blanket when he gets inside and telling him to lay down for a second because Ghost is so overwhelmed he's on the verge of giving himself a migraine.

He gives as good as he gets with physical contact with Gaz, hugging him just as hard, a hand on the back of his neck here and there to make sure he's emotionally balanced, fingers brushing his shoulder to remind him he's not alone. Will make sure he's having a good day or not based on how badly his hands shake. When Gaz gets too into his own head, he makes a game of giving Gaz his hat and telling him to play keep away with Ghost and Soap, knowing leading them into a game will help.

He sends cards and videos and pictures of anything and everything he can think of to Laswell, he's her second vent partner and will be the "beat his ass" version rather than understanding like Gaz. He shows he cares by being willing to burn the world for her and her wife and she appreciated it immensely when he jokes about taking her to a bar fight to let off some steam.

Laswell:

She doesn't like showing that she cares too much with physical things, so her care for Soap is mostly sending him tv show and movie recommendations.

She sends Ghost pictures of plants she found on the internet and what they're useful for. They have a "plant a day" thing where she has a whole list or book detailing various plants in alphabetical order and she picks one to send its information to him.

Give Gaz music recommendations and lets him vent back to her, she has a Spotify they share where they put random music on it if they like it.

Tells Price specific updates about her home life and how her wife is doing over the phone. Nothing too revealing but enough to make him feel like she truly trusts him.

[daegutowns]

your enhypen hogwarts boyfriend 

tags: hogwarts au, gn!reader, this is the grind rn

gryffindor: heeseung, niki 

heeseung: quidditch team chaser 

secretly (not so secretly) an attention seeker

please expect to hype him up and fawn over him on quidditch match days -- especially on matches with slytherin (he always has a bet with jay) 

“babe i need you to boo jay if he ever comes near you.” 

and he is so serious about this 

mcgonagall claims she doesn’t like him but he’s just lucky that he’s actually really good at quidditch (bc his transfiguration grades are not sexy) 

excels in defense against the dark arts AND potions but snape hates him 

he swears up and down he didn’t do anything this time to get detention but you know better. and he’s always begging the captain to not kick him off

“please, you know snape wants my left buttcheek!” 

talks shit before the match (especially to jay) and then feigns innocence if he’s asked about it 

this is the result of years of watching quidditch matches with his dad (their favorite team is the montrose magpies -- and he WILL badmouth puddlemere united if that team is mentioned) 

likes to sleep next to you in the library after practice while you study 

riki: quidditch team beater  

rebellious, passionate, and playful -- riki is a gryffindor through and through

always getting caught up in pranks. denies ever being inside zonko’s even though that’s the first place he goes in hogsmeade 

like okay ????

claims mrs. norris (filch’s cat) is best friends with him, but he has no real way of proving this 

shy about pda because of his friends, so he likes meeting up with you in secret and passing you notes in class 

…until he gets caught and has to read them out loud

then he decides that fuck it! it’s better to just air it out anyways. not his problem what they find disgusting! 

straight up livin’ that thug life y’all #getrekt

lowkey getting brainwashed by heeseung (go magpies!) 

makes up all his dreams for his divination dream journal but always makes it about you so he can pretend to be offended if someone says it’s fake

hufflepuff: sunghoon, jungwon 

sunghoon: prefect (head boy) 

this hard-working and kind-hearted boy is a true hufflepuff through and through

everyone thought by his looks that he’d either be in slytherin or ravenclaw, but it’s more obvious when he opens his mouth 

he’s kind of like cedric diggory -- super well-liked, popular, good-looking, and smart

he’s got all the hufflepuff girls and gays giggling around him n shit 

“first years follow me to the common room” and the new hufflepuffs are tripping over their feet trying to ask him questions 

it’s okay because he only has eyes for you <3 

haha jk sometimes he’ll tease you and say “are you jealous? you look jealous~” and then backtrack and say nevermind that he’s sorry and he doesn’t actually know what other people look like. in fact he only knows one name and it’s yours. 

he doesn’t really need to be doing all that but it’s fun messing with him 

goes around humbly (not so humbly) bragging about you until he gets smacked by snape for messing around during (but that doesn’t stop him) 

he likes taking you to cheesy date spots, like madam puddifoot’s tea shop or the covered walkway near spintwitches sporting needs where everyone else had their first kisses 

jungwon: quidditch team seeker   

well-rounded, responsible, and dependable -- these are all traits of a hufflepuff that describe jungwon perfectly 

to be honest, he’s really just here for the vibes

his favorite pastime is collecting chocolate frog cards 

(he is specifically looking for the gold and silver albus dumbledore cards that have been out of circulation for years)

he’s a very talented seeker, but everyone else’s praise doesnt mean anything. he needs YOUR praise specifically and will pretend to not like it just so he can hear it more (but you know better!) 

please help him study… he is definitely getting that quidditch scouting from a professional team but jungwon said he might get a T (troll) in history of magic 

he has a black cat named dooly that terrorizes him before he sleeps

you like dragging him to the kitchens to eat chocolate snacks with him before bed, but he gets nervous sneaking out sometimes

likes sitting underneath the big willow tree near the black lake with his head in your lap. please run your hands through his hair! 

ravenclaw: jake 

jake: quidditch team beater  

everyone really would’ve expected that he would’ve been in either gryffindor or hufflepuff just based on personality alone 

the sorting gave him a choice, and he just went with the house that had more of his friends that he made on the train 

he loves it when you show up to practice because now it’s even more awesome! now even more of his favorite people are in the same place

“babe look at this!” while he does a flip ??? 

if he falls off, now both you AND the rest of his team can laugh at him 

loves it even more if you show up to his games fully decked out (beyond his imagination) in his house colors, even if that’s not your house

he never expects this from you but he’s soooo happy when it happens that it motivates you to keep doing it 

self-declared next quidditch captain (and flitwick will give it to him) 

he’ll even tutor you in transfigurations (his best subject) for kisses, because despite being an athlete, he’s also got good grades???? sometimes god has favorites 

“if you think i’m a cool boyfriend, give me a kiss” 

his favorite type of date is sneaking out to the kitchens with you and sharing a pudding cake

slytherin: jay, sunoo

jay: quidditch team keeper  

unsurprisingly, jay comes from a long line of other slytherins

he’s pretty laidback compared to the rest of his family, but always insists that you go with him to family functions (because “baby they’re too boring without you!”) 

you two always end up at the snacks table gossiping with his cool cousins anyways 

flexes by buying you all your snacks on the train + of course covers all the dates 

pretty popular within slytherin house, but only because he’s good at quidditch and also has pretty good grades (in everything except herbology) 

hates the keeper pickup lines and jokes but likes 

lined up to be the next captain! 

claims he wants to work for the ministry of magic’s department of mysteries

“i got an image to keep”

whatever you say babygirl ^^

expects to be holding hands whenever you’re walking the halls with him

requires a good luck kiss before every quidditch match

sunoo: prefect 

a lot of people expected sunoo to get into hufflepuff! he defies expectations 

seriously, he made a name for himself within the house

with as ambitious as he is, it’s not that surprising to see that someone has confident and charming as him is in slytherin 

he’s someone with friends in every house, probably in every year too

he’s got an “in” with every club on hogwarts campus, so take your pick bae. the world’s your oyster! 

he flexes like jay, but instead of galleons, he takes you to restricted areas of campus using his prefect badge 

would actually help you break the rules if you wanted to

“you want to break in where?! okay, wait, let me get--” 

likes it when you compliment his thoughtfulness or talent in these areas 

his best subject is charms ;) 

his favorite pastime is watching quidditch practices with you, but all you do is yap together

[deathbecomesthem]

Chapter 1 - Study Buddy | 1.6K

My So-Called Hawkins

An introduction to a MSCL Stranger Things AU. This reader is heavily inspired by Angela Chase's personality, and Eddie Munson is our Jordan Catalano. I'm taking it back to high school, where all the feelings feel so very much.

Reader's Journal Entries - Invisible and Pencil

Fem!Reader x Eddie Munson

Every day is the same, and I wonder if there’s a point. Even if there is, I’ll probably never find out what it is. I remember thinking that when I got to this age, I’d be someone. I’d understand things enough to feel like I have a place. Like, did I miss something important? I don’t cheer, I don’t act, I don’t sing, I don’t play the flute - god I can’t believe my parents let me get this far without making me do something. Be someone. 

Maybe it’s easier this way. Dad thought it was weird that I dug out his old flannel shirts from the basement last week, that I wear them to school. He thinks it’s weird that I spent my Christmas money on boots when they buy me perfectly good sneakers whenever I need them. I asked mom if I could get my nose pierced for my birthday. She laughed and shook her head. “You’re so pretty, why would you want to scar your face like that?” She has no idea. I’m not pretty. I’m boring. No one sees me. 

-

You went to the mall with Robin over the weekend. There’s not much else to do in Hawkins. Not much else to do anywhere, really. Babysitting for the Johnsons has been good for pocket change, enough to get a slice at Sbarros at least. Plus, maybe you’ll have enough for a new lipstick. You’ve been thinking about that for a while, seeing if something other than the peachy shade your mom bought you would look like on your face.

You’re staring at the mirror and considering your raisin stained lips, wondering if there’s any point in matching the worn brown and beige flannel with any makeup at all. You think of Chrissy Cunningham and her cute-as-a-button smile. How flawless she looks in that fluffy rose pink sweater she wears so often. That’s part of it, you know. The things that make the other girls look so gorgeous make you look wrong. Make you feel like crawling out of your skin. You envy Chrissy and Heather, the way they effortlessly move through the world.

You sigh and grab a handful of toilet paper, roughly wiping off as much of the lipstick as you can before heading downstairs. Your stomach is in knots, thinking about seeing Eddie this morning. Seeing him standing outside of the back entrance of JCPenney with Gareth and Jeff on Saturday afternoon felt surreal. You could feel his eyes watching you make your way back to your car with Robin’s hand in yours. 

“Who’s that?” You heard one of the other guys say. You’d waved to him, like an idiot. Like it was a normal thing to do. Eddie didn’t wave back. You heard his voice, though. 

“Uh, she’s in one of my classes.” 

He probably doesn’t even know my name, and I waved at him.

You push the memory aside and run down the stairs while saying a silent prayer that no one will be in the kitchen when you skate through it. You don’t want to talk, you don’t want the silent judgment from your parents about your chosen outfit. You just want to walk out the door, get in your car, and drive. Hurry up and get the day started so you’re closer to the end of the thing. It’s a short week, only 2 days of school with an extra long weekend. Blessed relief. You’re already planning to spend the intervening days at the Buckley house where no one seems to care if you eat the allotted portion of vegetables on your plate or dye your hair black.

“Woah, slow down there, Pumpkin.” You nearly walk straight into your father as you round the corner. In your attempt to avoid him, you catch your hip on the faux marble island. His hand steadies you.

“Shit, oh, I’m sorry.” You can feel your skin heat up, and hope he lets the slip of your tongue pass without comment. “I just don’t want to be late.”

“You won’t be late. Sit down for a minute, eat something.” His words aren’t a suggestion, so you perch yourself on the edge of one of the stools at the island and grab a banana. Your stomach flips at the thought of trying to eat it, so you stand.

“I’ll take it with me. I need to go pick up Robin.” You stand on your toes to leave a kiss on your dad’s cheek. Something you’ve done every morning for as long as you can remember. 

“I don’t understand why Robin needs you to pick her up, she lives 2 houses away. It’s a 10 minute walk to school, you don’t even need to be driving.” 

You push your feet into your boots by the back door and throw a wave back at your dad. You opt to tie the laces in the car, not letting the old man get into a groove with his chosen complaint for the morning. You’re just glad your mom left early today, her car is already out of the driveway. Maybe she has an early showing.

There’s only a hint of light in the sky when you pull your car into the Buckley’s driveway. You kill your headlights, Mrs. Buckley’s been working thirds and you don’t want to wake her up if she’s already in bed. Robin comes bounding down the stairs of her house zipping her bookbag, a piece of toast in her mouth. Her sweater is inside out.

“Your sweater is inside out,” you tell her before she even rests her full weight on the passenger’s seat.

“Oh, shit. Goddamnit. Just drive, I’ll fix it on the way.”

“Better do it quick, unless you want to give a free show to everyone heading to Hawkins High this lovely winter morning.” You tell her, throwing the unopened banana into the backseat of your car where it will inevitably be forgotten until it’s rotten and mushy.

Robin’s arms flail while she makes muffled annoyed sounds. You hear the occasional crunch of her toast while she fumbles with the sleeves of her oversized fluffy sweater. “I think I’m, shit, my earring, I think I’m gonna talk to Munson about buying some weed for this weekend.”

You grip the steering wheel tighter at his name. Robin doesn’t know about your weird fixation on Eddie. 

“What’s this weekend? Is there a party or something?” You keep your voice level while you focus on the road in front of you. Two more turns and you’ll be in the parking lot and away from this unexpected conversation topic.

“Steve’s thing. Please tell me you didn’t forget. You promised you’d come.” Robin’s pulling down the visor to fix her disheveled hair and check her lip gloss. You hadn’t forgotten, you just never actually planned on going. You secretly hoped the weekend would never come, or that Robin would decide that it would be more fun to just skip the party.

You pull into your usual spot without responding and sigh. You check yourself in your rearview mirror, surprised to see the raisin lipstick still clinging to your mouth. You flip the visor back up and turn to Robin. You see her eyes are pleading with you. 

“I didn’t forget. I guess I can go. Nobody will care if I’m there or not, though.”

“I care. I’m the only one that matters, remember?” You can’t deny her words, not when she has those big wide eyes trained to your face.

–

Eddie isn’t late today. He’s sitting in his seat when you walk through the door to your first period class. You don’t look at him, but you can feel him looking at you. You can’t breathe until you’re seated with your own eyes looking at the back of his head. The way it should be. You looking at him, not the other way around. 

“Good morning,” Mrs. O’Donnell’s usual greeting is being said before she’s even stepped both feet into the classroom. Never a wasted moment for that woman, it’s exhausting to deal with before 8:00 a.m. five days a week. “Pick a partner. I don’t want any excuses about how hard this exam is tomorrow. You can spend the entire period studying together.”

Pick a partner. Dreaded words that you hate to hear unless you’re in a class with Robin. You choose the tactic you use most often. You wait to see who everyone else chooses, you’ll be the default partner for whoever is left. The sound of desks scraping the linoleum floor floods the room as people turn to face their study buddy. It’s all you hear until -

“Do you have a partner yet?” Eddie Munson asks. It takes you a beat to realize he’s talking to you because you’re doodling on the empty sheet of paper in front of you pretending to not notice that you’re supposed to be doing something. You look up and see his dark eyes staring at you, until you remember that he’s asked you something.

“Oh, uh, no. I don’t have one.” Should I ask him to be my partner? Should I give him a shy smile and bite my lip? Should I burst into flames and turn to ash? It doesn’t matter, because Eddie takes that as an invitation. He stands up and starts moving his desk so that it faces yours. And now, there’s nowhere to hide. 

Eddie Munson is your study buddy.

[small-z24]

Shadows of Fate 3

Summary:

Y/n, Cassian's shy and quiet sister, prefers to keep to the shadows. Unbeknownst to her, she is Azriel's mate. His shadows are inexplicably drawn to her, and as they grow closer, a slow-burn romance ensues. Cassian, ever protective of his sister, watches over her as the bond between Y/n and Azriel deepens.

Word Count: 966

Warnings: None

Chapter 3: Unseen Bonds

Y/n’s days at the House of Wind had taken on a new rhythm. Each morning, she would retreat to her favorite quiet corners, only to find Azriel already there, his presence a comforting constant. As their bond grew, she found herself feeling more at ease, her anxieties quieted by the soothing presence of Azriel and his shadows.

One afternoon, Y/n was reading in the garden, the vibrant flowers swaying gently in the breeze. She was so engrossed in her book that she didn’t notice Cassian approaching until he was right beside her.

"Hey, little sister," Cassian said, sitting down next to her.

Y/n looked up, a smile spreading across her face. "Hey, Cass. How was training?"

"Grueling, as usual," he replied with a chuckle. "But I wanted to talk to you about something."

Her smile faltered slightly. "What is it?"

Cassian’s expression turned serious. "I’ve been thinking a lot about you and Azriel. I want you to be happy, Y/n, but I also worry about you."

"I know you do," she said softly. "And I appreciate it. But Azriel and I... there’s something special between us. I feel safe with him."

Cassian sighed, his protective instincts warring with his desire to see his sister happy. "I just want to make sure he’s treating you right. That he’s not rushing things."

"He’s not," Y/n assured him. "We’re taking things slow. And he’s been nothing but patient and kind."

Cassian nodded slowly, his gaze softening. "Alright. I’ll try to ease up a bit. Just promise me you’ll come to me if anything feels wrong."

"I promise," she said, squeezing his hand.

Later that evening, Y/n found herself in the library, a place that had become her sanctuary. As she browsed through the shelves, she felt a familiar presence behind her. Turning, she saw Azriel standing there, his shadows curling around him like loyal pets.

"Hello, Y/n," he said, his voice like a warm embrace.

"Hello, Azriel," she replied, a smile lighting up her face. "I was just looking for something new to read."

He stepped closer, his gaze soft and affectionate. "I have something for you." From behind his back, he produced a small, leather-bound journal. "I thought you might like this. It’s empty, so you can fill it with whatever you want."

Y/n took the journal, her eyes widening with delight. "It’s beautiful. Thank you, Azriel."

"I thought you might use it to write down your thoughts or dreams," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "Or even just to keep track of our adventures together."

Her heart swelled with emotion as she hugged the journal to her chest. "I love it. I’ll cherish it always."

They spent the rest of the evening together, sitting in a secluded corner of the library. Azriel read aloud from one of his favorite books, his deep, melodic voice weaving a spell around them. Y/n listened, her head resting on his shoulder, feeling more at peace than she ever had.

The next morning, Y/n awoke to find a note slipped under her door. Unfolding it, she recognized Azriel’s elegant handwriting.

Meet me in the training grounds at sunrise. I have something I want to show you.

Curiosity piqued, Y/n quickly dressed and made her way to the training grounds. The early morning light bathed the area in a soft, golden glow. Azriel was waiting for her, his shadows already swirling around him in anticipation.

"Good morning," he greeted her, his eyes bright with excitement.

"Good morning," she replied, her heart fluttering at the sight of him. "What’s this about?"

"I wanted to teach you something," he said, holding out his hand. "Come with me."

Y/n took his hand, allowing him to lead her to a more secluded part of the training grounds. There, he produced a pair of slender, beautifully crafted daggers.

"I thought it might be good for you to learn some basic self-defense," he explained. "Just in case."

She looked at the daggers, then back at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "You want to teach me to fight?"

"Not to fight," Azriel corrected gently. "To protect yourself. You don’t have to become a warrior, but knowing how to defend yourself could be useful."

Y/n hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. I’ll try."

Azriel smiled, pride and affection shining in his eyes. "Good. Let’s start with the basics."

Over the next hour, he patiently guided her through a series of simple exercises. His touch was always gentle, his instructions clear and encouraging. Y/n found herself enjoying the lessons, the sense of empowerment that came with each successful move.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, they took a break, sitting together on the grass. Azriel handed her a water bottle, his gaze warm and approving.

"You’re doing great," he said. "You have a natural grace."

"Thank you," Y/n replied, feeling a flush of pride. "I didn’t think I could do it."

"I knew you could," he said softly. "You’re stronger than you realize."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. Y/n felt a surge of emotion, a deep, unspoken connection that went beyond words. She reached out, taking Azriel’s hand in hers.

"I’m glad I have you," she whispered. "You make me feel like I can do anything."

"You can," he replied, his voice filled with conviction. "And I’ll be here with you, every step of the way."

As they sat together, hand in hand, Y/n knew that their journey was only just beginning. But with Azriel by her side, she felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, confident in the strength of their bond and the love that had grown between them.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter of Y/n and Azriel's story. Feel free to leave comments and let me know your thoughts!

[sergeantsporks]

writing request: hunter carving waffles :)

Sorry that I'm writing this over a year after you sent it. The passage of time eludes me always

xxx

“What’s that?”

Hunter quickly closed his notebook before Luz could take a peek. “Homework.”

“Uh-huh. You know, you could just say it was your diary, and I wouldn’t try to read it.”

“It’s not a diary.”

She flopped dramatically against him, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. “Your tortured poetry, perhaps? Or Cosmic Frontier fanfiction?”

Hunter moved to the side, letting her fall. “It’s homework. Palisman homework.”

Luz picked herself up. “Palisman homework? On paper? Are you making designs or something? I thought you just… carved.”

She wasn’t going to let up, was she? Hunter sighed, flipping the cover of his journal back and forth. “If you must know, I’m brainstorming. Dell’s dead-set on me carving my own palisman, and I’m trying to figure out what the best fit would be.”

Luz’s face softened into something that was close to pity, but felt more like understanding. “Oh,” she said simply.

It wasn’t that he necessarily OPPOSED the idea of having a palisman again. Spending time with the Bat Queen and all her abandoned palisman had opened up an ache in his chest, an ache he could only describe as ‘pining.’ He wanted a palisman so badly it hurt.

But whenever he tried to think about what that palisman would be, what he would carve, who he wanted to spend his life with, all he could think about was Flapjack. Or, when he wasn’t thinking about Flapjack, the form of his future palisman slipped outside of his grasp. All he could think about was the feeling, the connection. Like his palisman was already curled up inside of his chest, like he was already bonded to them, even though they didn’t exist.

“I’m just having trouble picturing it. Can’t think of what I want, you know?”

“A wolf?” Luz suggested.

“Maybe.”

He’d actually carved a wolf out of practice wood and gifted it to Eber—besides a songbird, it was probably the shape he was most familiar with. But holding that little wolf statue in his hands hadn’t felt right. It hadn’t clicked the way he’d always imagined finding your palisman’s shape would. He’d carved a few for others, and when the wood shaped underneath his hands, he could feel the palisman’s soul bursting through, could feel already the hum of connection with its partner. He’d seen it on his clients’ faces, too, a sort of light in their eyes. The way their faces sparked with recognition when they saw the animal carved into the wood.

“You could always carve an egg, like I did. Let them decide.”

That didn’t sound quite right either. Not that he minded his palisman choosing their own form, or that he thought Luz had picked a worse route, but he wanted to give them form. He wanted to give them something special, to handpick something just for them, something that said ‘I know what I want and I know who you are, and I’ve thought about you for so long.’

“So…” Luz tapped the journal cover. “Ideas for what it’ll be, then?”

“Some of them.” A flush crept across Hunter’s face and ears. “I’m also… brainstorming a list of things that might be my greatest wish?”

To Luz’s credit, she didn’t laugh, although her face screwed up like she was trying very hard not to. “You’re… making a list.”

Hunter nodded. “I figured I could make a list of all the things I want from life, then arrange them in tiers to narrow down which wish is most likely to wake up my palisman.”

“Uh-huh. Well—” she was trying so hard to not say something about spontaneity and living in the moment, he could see it. “—whatcha got so far? Maybe I can help.”

“It’s my greatest wish, not yours.”

“Aw, come on, two heads are better than one! I didn’t realize my greatest wish until I talked to my mom.”

“Fine. Nosy.” Hunter opened his journal. “I think—I mean, so far, I’ve mostly got what I said to Belos that night, you know? Studying wild magic, going to Hexside, playing flyer derby with my friends, learning to carve palisman… those are the things I want. But, well, I’m already accomplishing those things, you know? I’m enrolled at Hexside, Eda’s already told me I’ve got a place at the university if I want it, I play with the Entrails every other day after school, and I’m carving palisman with Dell the days I don’t practice with the Entrails. They’re still things I want, but they’re also things I’m doing.”

Frustration built up in the back of Hunter’s throat, and he ran a hand through his hair. Surely there had to be something else, something he was missing. “Belos is gone, the throne room is destroyed, so everything I used to want… it’s done! I accomplished it. I can’t use those wishes to wake up a palisman—they didn’t even work to save the palisman I had!”

The moment the words left his mouth, he froze. Luz gave him another one of those looks, those looks of terrible, sad understanding.

“Oh, Hunter—”

“I’m fine.” Hunter closed the journal again, tucking it into his schoolbag. “I’ll figure it out. I’ve got to go meet Dell.”

In reality, his carving tutoring didn’t start for another hour, but anything was better than sitting here for another second. He swung his bag over his shoulder and warped away before Luz could say anything else. He could practically hear her voice in his head, though—Hunter, what happened to Flapjack wasn’t your fault. Hunter, there was nothing you could do. Hunter, Flapjack would want you to be happy. Hunter, your wishes back then have nothing to do with healing palisman so why don’t you just use one of those perfectly-fine statements and get it over with; stop overthinking it.

Okay, the last part wasn’t Luz’s voice, but it was still true. Flapjack had chosen him based on an off-hand statement about wanting to choose his own future. He hadn’t even been talking to the palisman. Why put so much effort and time into considering the perfect wish? Because he’d watched Luz agonize over it? From what he’d heard, Willow and Gus’s palisman had chosen them quickly, with a simple statement. Why was he searching so hard for the perfect wish? The palisman wouldn’t wake up without the right words anyway—he could say whatever he wanted to them, and he’d know he’d made the true wish when they came to life.

Dell had already set aside the wood for him. A beautiful, perfect stump of palistrom, taken from one of the tree’s thick branches. The rings sat in exact circles, not a single knot or lump in the wood as far as Hunter could see. Hunter almost wished there was an imperfection in the wood. “Oops, sorry! Can’t get to work on this! Oops, it’ll take a while to sand out this knot, so why don’t we leave the whole project off for later?”

Instead, he picked up the perfect piece of wood, imagining each stroke of the chisel. Peeling back layers of wood in perfect blue curls, until the wood became…

He thought again of Flapjack, and put the wood down. He wouldn’t carve a cardinal—he knew better than anyone that it wouldn’t be the same, that a recreation of Flapjack wouldn’t be Flapjack. It would probably hurt worse to have a palisman that looked exactly like Flapjack but wasn’t, and for a brief, spiraling moment, he thought he understood how Belos had felt about him.

“Thinking about your future palisman?”

Hunter jumped at Dell’s voice, nearly knocking the wood off the table. “You’re early.”

Dell chuckled. “So are you.” He sat slowly down at the workbench, holding his cane between his hands and looking at Hunter expectantly.

“I still haven’t figured out what I want to carve.”

“I see.” Dell’s eyes twinkled. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Hunter swallowed. What secret? A carving technique? A shortcut to finding one’s deepest wish? “Of course.”

“I didn’t carve my palisman.”

It took a moment for the words to register in Hunter’s mind. Five simple words, and for a moment, they made Hunter feel like the ground had fallen away. “What?” he said finally.

“I didn’t carve my palisman,” Dell repeated easily, “She was passed onto me—she’s been in the family business for a while. The day my mother died and I inherited the carving business, she flew to my shoulder and has been there ever since. She did the same for my mother, and for her parent, and for their father before them.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Was he planning on giving his palisman to Hunter when he died? Not that Hunter minded taking care of her, but it was a heavy topic.

Dell sighed, stretching. “My palisman was passed on to me. Despite guiding many others to their heart’s desire, I’ve never had to confront my own. I’ve never been in the place you are now, trying to pick the perfect creature to carve. I can only offer the same advice I’ve offered to countless young witches trying to find their way in life.”

“Which is?”

Dell smiled, pointing his cane at Hunter’s chest. “Stop thinking with your head. Let go of the stress, the anxiety of picking something so permanent as a palisman. Still your thoughts, quiet your heart. Then, and only then, will you know what you want. Then, your palisman will find you.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Take the wood home.”

“What?”

“Take it home. And your tools. No carving lesson for today.”

“I—”

“When your teacher gives you a project in school, they give you time to work on it, yes?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Today is a work day. I want you to focus on your palisman. Go.”

Focus on my palisman.

I can do this.

An hour and a half of staring at a lump of blue wood later, Hunter almost wanted to throw the palistrom through the window. He wouldn’t, of course, not after everything the species had been through, but he was very, very tempted.

Finally, he picked up the wood and his tools. “Still thoughts, quiet heart,” he breathed, “Fine. Carve. Just carve! It’s not like I’m going to wake it up right now, I’m just carving. It’s just like anyone else’s palisman, except it might maybe be mine.”

Hunter took a deep breath, and started to carve. Petals of blue shavings fell to the floor, and Hunter thought briefly of how Darius would gasp if he saw the mess. But his attention turned quickly back to the statue forming underneath his hands with every rhythmic scrape. At some point, Darius turned on the bedroom light, scolding him for how he’d strain his eyes, but Hunter barely registered the complaint. He noticed even less when Darius came back to warn him not to stay up too much later, or he’d be exhausted at school. There was only him and the palisman. Blisters rubbed onto his hands, and a dozen tiny splinters stuck in his fingers, but it wasn’t until one of the blisters popped, oozing blood and pus, that he stopped, shaken from the trance he’d fallen into.

“Ow.”

Hunter shook his hands. It wasn’t just the blisters and splinters—his hands had stiffened up from gripping the chisels and knives, sore and achy. He cautiously rubbed his eyes. When was the last time he’d blinked? The clock beeped an accusatory “5 AM” at him, and he wandered to the bathroom to take care of his injuries. First, he used tweezers to pluck out the splinters, then dressed his blisters and applied about five thousand band-aids to them. He chuckled at the sight. Back in the coven, his hands had constantly been bandaged because of blisters from training with his staff, or bruised and busted knuckles. But even in this peaceful life, it seemed he couldn’t escape the blisters and bruises.

Well, maybe you could if you stopped carving and went to bed at a reasonable time, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Darius’ said in his mind.

Hunter returned to his room, picking up the palisman.

A bird.

His heart sank, even as he kicked himself for it. Of course when he’d zoned out and emptied his mind he’d carved a bird—why had he expected anything else? Of course Flapjack was still in the front of his mind, of course he’d carve a…

Hunter realized dully that this bird wasn’t a cardinal. He hadn’t painted it yet, of course, although the blue of the wood seemed to suit it. But even so, the head swooped back instead of up, the beak was thinner, and the wings tilted down rather than back. This wasn’t the same bird.

“It’s just that I couldn’t carve the shape right,” Hunter said out loud, “I messed up. It’s not because… because…”

Had he just failed at carving a cardinal? Something about this palisman seemed different. Hunter sat it back down on his desk, resting his arms on the table’s surface and his head on his arms. Maybe it was just delirium from lack of sleep.

“You’re beautiful,” he told the bird, “I’m sure I can find you a good home—you deserve someone better than me. I mean, I didn’t even try. I just carved what I’m most familiar with. I’m sorry.” He gently brushed her—how he knew the palisman was a she, he didn’t know—beak with bandaged fingers. “I just wish…” he trailed off, fighting to stay awake. “I just wish every witch and their palisman could have what Luz and Stringbean have. What Eda and Owlbert, Amity and Ghost, Willow and Clover, and Gus and Emmiline have.” His eyes finally drifted shut, his hand still gently patting the palisman’s head. “I just wish everyone could have what Flapjack and I had,” he murmured.

Somewhere outside of the haze of sleep, Hunter heard a chirp.