#it is about 5 sizes too big but that just makes it cozy

[mrsbarnesblog]

i can't let you get hurt

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: You have just moved to New York, where your adopted brother Steve has been living for 5 years. Desperate to make new friends, you give the dating app another go. You didn’t even think that you would have to ask for help from the person who has not left your thoughts for the past month - your brother’s best friend.

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: fluff, reader is Steve's adopted sister, mechanic Bucky, creepy behaviour, protective Bucky.

Author's note: Does anyone know if community labels are reducing the number of likes and reblogs? because my last post received a suspiciously small amount of notes🤔 but I'm afraid to remove them because Tumblr might decide to block me again

Moving to New York was the idea that has been sitting in your head for a long period of time. Since your adopted brother Steve finished high school, he moved there without any money, without friends, and only with a lot of desires and dreams. You stayed in your small town with your and Steve’s adopted parents because you were only fifteen at the time. It’s been almost five years, and right now he owns an auto repair shop, and as far as you know, it’s a pretty successful place.

You knew that you had nothing to lose; you had no opportunities in your city, no close friends, and it was a really boring and gray life.

Steve only visited you two times, but you regularly spoke on the phone. So when your plane finally landed and you met him, you were kind of a crying mess. He was still your closest person, and you loved him with your whole heart. Steve was now much bigger, with broad shoulders and arms that were probably the same size as your head, but he still had that golden retriever energy, which you really loved.

Steve helped you find your apartment building, where you rented a small and cozy flat from a nice old lady. It wasn’t too much—just a bedroom and living room connected with a tiny kitchen and bathroom. Everything was clean, with light furniture and a lot of plants. It was actually surprising that this place had an affordable rent, and you were happy that luck was on your side.

On the next day, your brother finally showed you his famous place, which he owned with his now best friend Bucky Barnes. And talking about him, he was something else. A tall, big man with fluffy chocolate hair, stubble, and the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen. You knew that you were fucked as soon as he looked you directly in the eyes, shook your hand, and gave you a charming smile.

You met almost everyone in the garage. All the guys were super nice and friendly, they even showed you all of their cars that they were working with. You were happy that Steve found such a family here, they were all obviously so close to each other. 

Yet, after a month here, you had almost no friends. You found a job in the coffee shop down the street, where you met an amazing redhead girl named Wanda. You chatted a lot during the work, but you two were still far from friends.

That's how you ended up here. On a date with John.

For some reason, you decided to give that stupid dating app another try. John found you there, and he seemed nice, so when on the second day he decided to invite you to a bar, you agreed without hesitation.

How long has it been since the last time someone asked you out? Year?  Yes, it was a little sad to realize that no one was particularly interested in you. Before moving to New York, all the guys you talked to seemed to only want one thing, so you had high hopes for John.

Your evening went well at first. You ordered a drink and chatted. He really seemed nice. After the second drink, you decided to stop for a bit because the alcohol started to make you feel dizzy, even though John was persuading you to taste more of the cocktails that he had brought you .

"You know, I think I better slow down with drinks; I really don’t want to be drunk and embarrass myself on the first date." You pushed your glass back a little, smiling politely.

"Oh, c'mon, baby, don’t upset me." John chuckled and put his hand on yours. You awkwardly smiled, not ready for such physical contact. "You’re here alone, right?" He tilted his head, and you didn't miss how his eyes stopped at your boobs.

"Um, not exactly... I mean, I know like five people in this city, and one of them is my brother. But we don’t live together; he has his own life." John nodded his head and leaned a little closer to you.

"So it means that we can have some fun, right, baby?"

"Fun?" 

"Mhm." One of his hands stayed on top of yours, and the other one suddenly fell on your leg. Your body tensed at the feeling of his fingers as they started to rub the bare skin of your inner thigh. You definitely didn’t expect it to happen. "I’ll take an Uber; we’ll go to my place, and we can continue our night. What do you think?"

"I didn’t want to—I mean, that’s not what I was looking for—I thought that we were going to just talk and drink, you know…" You tried to take his hand off of you, but his grip only became harder.

"Don’t try to run away now, baby." He grinned. "You dressed up for me, huh? Your tight little dress that shows your boobs says it all. You just want me." You felt goosebumps all over your body because of his look. It was intense and not as innocent as it was before. You felt disgusted because of his words. You wanted to look good, yes, but seducing him wasn’t part of your plan.

So what are you going to do now? You felt unsafe, and you didn’t know how you could escape this situation. He was obviously a creep, and he just wanted to have sex with you. You can’t go home because either he won't let you go or he might find out where you live.

 "O-okay- um- just let me- I’ll go to the restroom real quick, and we can go, okay?" You nervously smiled and stood up, almost spilling your cocktail.

"Someone’s excited, huh?" He laughed, looking at your body up and down.

You left without an answer. You really went to the restroom because the bar was half empty, and John would’ve definitely seen you going out. Luckily, the restroom was empty. You locked the door and looked at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to do.

You reached into your purse to get your phone. The first person that came to mind was Steve. Only long beeps were heard, and after the third call, you gave up.

"Fuck, Steve, I really need you right now." You scrolled through your contacts again. It wasn’t a lie that you knew five people from New York. Steve was not answering his phone. Your neighbor Natasha and Wanda from work, were not your close friends, so it would’ve been weird to call them because of this. There was a number of an old lady who rented you an apartment, and she was obviously not an option. And there was another person.

Bucky.

Calling him in this situation was the last thing you wanted to do. Hell, he probably won’t even answer you because he thinks that you’re just his best friend’s little sister, and he’ll definitely make fun of you about this stupid date. But you had no other variants.

"Hello?" He picked up his phone almost immediately, and you even forgot what you wanted to say. "Y/N? Are you okay?" His deep voice was full of worry, and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach.

"H-hey, Bucky. Um… I’m really, really sorry that I’m calling you, but Steve is not picking up his phone. Do you know where he is?" You walked around the small room, trying to calm down.

"Yeah, he’s meeting with some girl he's been talking about for days. He’s probably really busy right now." He chuckled, and you felt like you were about to cry. Bucky must’ve heard your breathing change because he immediately went silent. "Doll? What happened?"

"My God, it’s so stupid…" You squeezed your eyes, not wanting to cry.

"Tell me." 

"I’m at the bar. I’m on a date with a guy named John, and he became very persistent. He wants me to go to his place, but It’s- I’m not interested in this. And I can't just leave because I’m afraid that he can follow me and find out where I live… fuck I really don’t know what to do, and I wanted to ask Steve to pick me up." Your phone stayed silent for a few moments, and you already thought that he got tired of your mess and just ended the call. "Bucky?"

"Where are you? What bar? Are you in the restroom?" His voice was low, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with all of this.

"It’s that new place a few blocks away from my crib. With big neon red signs at the top. And I’m in the restroom right now."

"I’ll be there in five. Stay there and don’t open the door until you know it’s me." He said that and ended the call, leaving you nervous and excited at the same time.

The loud knock on the door almost made you jump. Fastly, but quietly, you reached there and tried to listen for any signs of who it could be.

"I hear you. Open the door; it’s me." The familiar voice came from behind the door.

You opened the door and met Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes. He seemed a little bit out of breath, as if he had run here. You quickly scanned his body, and the fact that he was wearing your favorite leather jacket made you weak in the knees. His dark brown locks that curled at the ends almost asked you to touch them. It was not your fault that this idiot always looked ridiculously hot every single time. 

"C’mon, let’s get you home, doll." He grabbed your hand, leading you out of the bathroom to the bar, where you immediately saw a clearly annoyed John. You saw that Bucky looked at him too, but he stopped only when you were already on the street and when your bad date ran after you, loudly calling your name. 

"Hey! Where the fuck are you going? We were supposed to go to my place! You already found someone else to fuck or what?" He yelled, grabbing your other hand at the same time. You felt Bucky quickly move you behind him while still holding your wrist. 

"Don’t fucking touch her. She’s leaving, and if I ever see you near her again, I'll rip your useless hands off. Understood?" Bucky growled, straightening his body. He was obviously bigger than John, who was now less brave. John looked at you for a few seconds as he was thinking about what he should say to you, but then just turned around and left. Apparently, you weren't worth it.

You didn’t know whether it was the cool night air or this whole tense situation that made you tremble. You felt Bucky’s warm body get closer to you, and his large, calloused hand rested on your shoulder. It made you feel a little bit fuzzy because you were trying so hard to hide your little (big) crush on your brother’s best friend. Yeah, it was the biggest cliche, but you couldn’t even blame yourself. He was extremely beautiful, with those blue eyes, rosy lips, and a body that you knew was built like God's. Not to mention that Bucky was sweet and a true gentleman.

"You’re shaking, doll. Wait a second." He started to take off his jacket, and you tried to stop him.

"Bucky, no, what are you doing? You don’t have to; it’s not even that cold!" He just playfully rolled his eyes and still threw a jacket over your shoulders, leaving himself only in the tight black shirt. God, this man.

A sudden wave of his cologne surrounded you. Bucky always smelled good. Something clean with a spicy and woody scent. The leather was still warm from his body, and you fought against the desire to bury your nose in it. You didn't even realize that you actually did it, so when you opened your eyes, you saw Bucky, who had this annoying grin on his face.

"So you like it, huh?" He chuckled. 

"Oh, shut up. I didn't want to do that."

"Of course, doll. But we should go, I have to take you home safely, right?" Bucky said, leading you to the parking lot. To a motorcycle.

"A motorcycle?" You asked Bucky as you stepped closer to him. "No, I—where’s your car? I’ve never ridden on one of those." He had already sat there and had two helmets in his hands.

"I left it in the garage and didn’t want to make you wait here for too long. But you don’t have to worry; I know what I'm doing, and I'll take care of you. I promise." You came closer to him and let him put a helmet on you. You really tried not to tremble as his hands gently fixed it under your chin. "Now sit behind me and put your legs here." He pointed at the weird looking thing.

You felt weird as soon as you sat in the passenger seat. Bucky was so close, and you could feel the warmth of his body even if it was cold outside. Where should I put my hands? Hug him? Put it behind me? You awkwardly placed it on your own legs, and Bucky must’ve immediately felt your tense body because you heard a chuckle, and the next moment he grabbed your hands and put it around his waist. "You should put it right here, doll. You don’t wanna fall, do you?"

You slightly shook your head before you placed it on his back. It was really hard to control yourself when your hands were laying on his hard press. For fuck’s sake, he should be perfect everywhere, huh?

"Hold on tight, Darlin'." You heard another deep chuckle, and he finally put his helmet on.

You don't know how long you were driving, but when Bucky finally pulled up outside your apartment building, you felt sad and happy at the same time. The ride was something else. This man almost gave you a heart attack when you stopped at a red light and he put his hand on your bare leg and asked if you were okay.

He’s just being nice, stop overthinking this.

You knew Bucky for only one month, but it was hard not to fall for him. He was an attractive, kind, and really generous man; you knew that he was like a part of Steve's family. Sometimes, when you visited your brother and accidentally met Bucky, for a few seconds you thought that maybe he finds you attractive. You always caught him looking at you.

But you knew this type of guy—always charming and flirting—who could have pretty much anyone. It was stupid of you to think that he saw you as something more than just Steve’s little sister.

"See, I told you that I was a good driver and that you'd get home safely." He hopped off the motorcycle and stood before you while you were trying to take the helmet off. "Let me unlock it."

"Thank you, Bucky." You said when you were finally free. "For this, for the jacket... You were probably very busy, and I just ruined your night by making you take care of me. Oh my god, I’m really sorry. I just wanted to forget about one person, and I thought that going on that stupid date would be a good idea, but it seems like the only thing that men want here is sex." You chuckled and watched to the ground.

"Now listen to me, doll." Bucky suddenly stepped closer to you, and you almost fainted when both of his hands took your face and forced you to look him right in the eyes. "You shouldn’t apologize for calling me. I was just hanging out with the guys from the garage, but as soon as you called me, I left everything because I can’t let you get hurt." He nervously licked his lips, and you hope that he didn’t notice how you stared at this movement. Bucky’s hands left your face and ended up on your upper arms. Did he come closer to me? "I don’t know who you were trying to forget about, but I hope that he or she is worth your time."

"We– we’re not really close. I’m probably not even his type." You shrugged. Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he buried his hands in the jeans pockets, as if he was angry and tried not to show you. As soon as he made a distance between you two, you body started trembling.

"Is it someone from the garage?" His head was a little bit tilted to the side, and you knew that right now he wouldn’t shut up about it until you gave him a name. "Maybe Sam? Or Thor? Many girls like him, you know. Do you like show-offs like Stark? Or…"

"You."

You both were silent.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What were you thinking?

"Say it again." Your throat felt dry, and you just stared at him, not knowing what to do. 

"I– Just forget about it, Bucky. It’s stupid–"

You weren't able to finish because a soft pair of lips interrupted you. One of Bucky’s hands cupped your face, lifting you up to his level, and another one laid on your waist. He was soft, warm, and gentle when his lips moved on top of yours. Your head was in the clouds, and it felt like your knees became weaker. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck, completely melting into him. He wanted to stay like this forever. Your skin and your lips were so soft, he could smell your perfume and taste your sweet lip gloss. But he knew that he should stop and do it the right way. After a few seconds, he finally pulled away, but he put his forehead on yours, and it was so cozy, like you two were in a bubble.

"I’m sorry. Was this too much? I overstepped?" He licked his lips as if he were trying to get more of your taste. "I have been thinking about asking you out since the day I saw you. I wanted to do it right. To take you on a date, to be the gentleman that you deserve, and maybe get a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night. Sorry. I didn’t even know that you liked me." Bucky wrapped his hands around your waist, and you nuzzled into his neck, enjoying his scent.

"And I didn’t know that you liked me either. I thought that you felt obligated to take care of me because I'm your best friend’s sister."

"No, I promise you." He kissed the top of your head. "But Steve’s gonna kill me, by the way. He told all of us that you’re not an option and that we can’t touch you."

"Well, I love him, but he can’t decide for me."

"So… Does this mean that you’ll say ‘yes’ if I ask you to go on a date with me? On Sunday, maybe?" You lifted your head to look at him properly, and God, he was so cute when he was nervous.

"Of course, Buck, I wanna go out with you." You smiled at him, and he lowered himself again to give you another sweet kiss on the lips.

"Fuck, you should go home, doll. You’re too sweet for your own good. Wanna keep you all for myself." He mumbled against your lips. "Go."

"Goodnight, Bucky. Please text me when you get home, ‘kay?"

"I will. Goodnight, Doll." You left a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek before finally turning around to go home.

Only at home did you realize that you were still wearing his jacket. At least it was a good excuse for Bucky to see you again sooner. That night, you both ended up texting for hours until you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Maybe a date with John wasn’t that bad of an idea.

[moongothic]

MY BLANKET OF DARKNESS HAS BEEN COMPLETED

✨👁️✨ I AM SO COZY NOW ✨👁️✨

So I started working on this blanket around June of 2022. Got like, maybe half-way through the blanket and then the yarn I needed for the blanket went out of stock at my local yarn shop. Now I didn't know the yarn would be completely unavailable for like 6 months (until the stop closed permanently), so I just kept on waiting, hoping for it to come back in stock-- but it never did, so in January I finally looked online if I could find the yarn elsewhere and I did, I got the yarn I needed, and finished the blanket. So it kinda took me 6 months to make this blanket but also not

What made this blanket a truly exciting and fun project for me is that this has been the first blanket I actually made for myself and designed for myself. Like I've enjoyed every single blanket project I've had so far, but having a blanket that's Just For Me is just. It's nice

I originally planned the granny squares out digitally because I wanted to have a fun pattern of different granny squares, something that wouldn't be too busy looking and was carefully planned, and here's what I came up with

I had two versions of the square pattern, one with moon phases right in the middle of it and another without them. I do like how the moon version looked and part of me kinda regrets not making that one, but I'm not sure the moons would have really gone well with the eyes... So I did go with the first version

(Sidenote, it's not on the pattern above but I added extra rows of just black squares at the top and bottom of the blanket, so there's two rows of black instead of just one)

(Sidenote 2, although I knew I wanted the blanket to be mostly black from the begining, I wasn't entirely sure what accent color I wanted to use, it really was depending on what colors the shop had available. Like I used yellow as kind of a default color since it worked nice with the stars and eyes, but I could've gone with some other color too. In the end, because I didn't like the color options for the yarn at the shop I ended up going with a yellow anyways) (Also I tested out a reverse color version with the pastel purple and white base and no eyes, just for funsies, it looks kinda neat)

But yeah, that's how the planning of the blanket went.

The blanket is made of 231 squares in total, 11x21 rows. 186 of the squares are plain black, the rest are patterned. The star squares were the worst to make because of how many strands of yarn I had to weave in, 0/10, would not reccommend.

I used the Cedro 100% wool yarn (reccomended hook size 5, 50g=100m), and it took me about 38 balls of yarn to finish the blanket (including crocheting all the squares together and doing a single round of double crochet around the blanket to finish it off)

This is literally all the yarn I have left from this blanket; one untouched ball of black and three partially used balls.

I gotta admit.

I'm kind of shocked by the size of the blanket. Like I very carefully measured it to make it the exact size to fit my bed, and it fits perfectly. But I'm still kinda shocked how big it is. (Which is why I didn't make the border of the blanket any bigger, even though I could've with the yarn I have)

Also

It's HEAVY

Like, of course it's heavy, it's 100% wool and thick, but MAN I didn't expect it lmao

But that kind of makes it perfect for cold winters especially, it's super warm and the weight makes it cozy- like who needs a weighted blanket when you can have one of these lmao

Now I just need to figure out how to protect the blanket from being covered in my white cat's hair...

[meatonfork]

HELLO!! I've got an idea (idk if anybody request it already or u already wrote it). Can you write about grim stealing clothes from the 141? And their reaction? IT WOULD BE AMAZING I SWEAR! THX <3 P.S YOUR STUFF IS SO CUTE AND PERFECT. KEEP UP THE WORK💕🫂💕

A Thief

————————————————————————————————————————

pairings: platonic 141 x grim

warnings: none i believe

summary: grim gets caught read handed

————————————————————————————————————————

you’d always enjoyed winter. but, because of your small size, it was always harder for you get warm and stay that way.

the first time you’d ever stolen one of the task force’s articles of clothing was when you were stuck in the russian woods during winter.

you and ghost had been thrown into the field. alone. the mission actually went incredibly well considering it was tackled by a grumpy, closed off lieutenant, and a jittery, talkative, kid-sergeant.

the two of you were in and out- just like you’d been briefed to do so.

the issue? a giant fucking snowstorm that prevented evac.

the wind howled in your ear as you shouted over to ghost, “do you even know where you’re going?”

the wind pushed you back, but you prevailed. the cold nipped at your nose and cheeks. snow fell into your eyelashes, and your body was soaked from the wet.

“jus’ a bit further.” he was gruff, as usual, but even the loud wind couldn’t silence his chattering teeth.

you were severely underdressed for the weather. just a thermal shirt, your cargo pants, boots, a fleece quarter-zip, and your tac gear. ghost was no better off than you.

the small cabin came into view after roughly 20 more minutes of silence.

ghost rushed in, clearing it, before pulling you by your bicep.

the cabin wasn’t dirty, but it wasn’t exactly what you had hoped. luckily, there were two bedrooms. but, other than that, there wasn’t much. a kitchen, a bathroom, and a random couch.

“it’s not much, but it’ll do.”

the giant next you hummed in agreement, “go get in the shower. you’ll get hypothermia, kid.”

you almost argued, saying he could’ve gone first, but your body was shaking so badly you almost couldn’t stand.

you sighed with a nod and made your way to the bathroom. stripping yourself down to nothing and turning on the shower. the water was heavenly even if it wasn’t that warm. you stood there, letting it warm up your limbs. your red fingers finally gaining some feeling.

a knock on the door about 5 minutes later sounded through the room.

“yeah?”

“want me to take your clothes to dry them off? built a fire.”

“go for it!”

ten minutes later, you walked out with sweats and a t-shirt on. a towel bunched in your hands, with your head tilted to the side- drying your hair off. goosebumps raised on your skin as the steam rolled out of the bathroom behind you. looking around the small house, you found ghost crouched in front of the fire, warming up his hands.

“hey, big guy. bathroom’s all yours” you offered a small smile when his dark eyes met yours.

“thanks, grim.” he stood and made his way to shower before he paused right next to you.

you were about to ask him what was wrong before he stalked back the way he came, riffled through his pack, and tossed something at your face.

you squeaked as you caught it, dropping the towel.

you were about to scold him, but the soft material of a hoodie stopped you in your tracks. you offered your lieutenant a questioning look.

“you’re fucking shivering, grim. put it on.” his voice was gruff. and with that, he walked into the bathroom without a word.

later that night as you both sat in front of the fire, backs resting on the couch, ghost voiced out, “i’m not gettin’ that back, am i?”

“nope!” you curled up to him with a smile too big for your face.

———

since that mission, you’d taken it upon yourself to make yourself as cozy as possible.

ghost’s hoodies were just so much bigger than yours.

soap’s sweats were just so much comfier than yours.

gaz’s shirts just fit so much better than yours.

and price’s socks were socks, but you didn’t want him to feel left out.

this is how you found yourself being interrogated in the commons, surrounded by your team.

“why am i here, boys?” you almost sang out.

“grim. you have an issue. who’s clothes are you even wearing right now?” gaz was the first to break the ice.

“oh, a little bit of everyone’s i suppose.” you shrugged.

“kid. we need those back. you have your own clothes, for god’s sake!” price scolded you, arms crossed against his chest and head tilted to look you in the eye.

“but they’re comfier than mine! and, they keep me warmer! please?” you threw out your best puppy dog eyes, knowing it would hit them in the heart.

soap sighed out, a hand dragging down his face.

“let me tell you what, kid. keep what you have, but no more stealing them.” ghost’s voice was gruff from behind you.

you whirled around, “how about i switch them out when they don’t smell like you guys anymore? heh, variety!”

“whatever. meeting dismissed, i’m tired.”

————————————————————————————————————————

a/n: thank you for reading <33

[inmyicyworld]

I can't let you get hurt

Bucky Barnes x Reader (brother’s best friend AU)

Summary: you have just moved to New York, where your adopted brother Steve has been living for 5 years. Desperate to make new friends, you give the dating app another go. You didn’t even think that you would have to ask for help from the person who has not left your thoughts for the past month - your brother’s best friend.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: language, reader is Steve’s adopted sister, creepy John Walker, John is commenting reader's clothes, Bucky is a big softie, protective Bucky, idiots in love, fluff.

Author’s note: I’ve wanted to finally start writing for a long time. so I decided to share my thoughts and dreams about this man (aka my husband). English is not my first language and I’m really sorry if you find any mistakes. it’s my first attempt to trying to write in English so I hope it’s not that bad.

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

Moving to New York was the idea that has been sitting in your head for a long period of time. Since your adopted brother Steve finished high school, he moved there without any money, without friends, and only with a lot of desires and dreams. You stayed in your small town with your and Steve’s adopted parents because you were only fifteen at the time. It’s been almost five years, and right now he owns an auto repair shop, and as far as you know, it’s a pretty successful place.

You knew that you had nothing to lose; you had no opportunities in your city, no close friends, and it was a really boring and gray life.

Steve only visited you two times, but you regularly spoke on the phone. So when your plane finally landed and you met him, you were kind of a crying mess. He was still your closest person, and you loved him with your whole heart. Steve was now much bigger, with broad shoulders and arms that were probably the same size as your head, but he still had that golden retriever energy, which you really loved.

Steve helped you find your apartment building, where you rented a small and cozy flat from a nice old lady. It wasn’t too much—just a bedroom and living room connected with a tiny kitchen and bathroom. Everything was clean, with light furniture and a lot of plants. It was actually surprising that this place had an affordable rent, and you were happy that luck was on your side.

On the next day, your brother finally showed you his famous place, which he owned with his now best friend Bucky Barnes. And talking about him, he was something else. A tall, big man with fluffy chocolate hair, stubble, and the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen. You knew that you were fucked as soon as he looked you directly in the eyes, shook your hand, and gave you a charming smile.

You met almost everyone in the garage. All the guys were super nice and friendly, they even showed you all of their cars that they were working with. You were happy that Steve found such a family here, they were all obviously so close to each other. 

Yet, after a month here, you had almost no friends. You found a job in the coffee shop down the street, where you met an amazing redhead girl named Wanda. You chatted a lot during the work, but you two were still far from friends.

That's how you ended up here. On a date with John.

For some reason, you decided to give that stupid dating app another try. John found you there, and he seemed nice, so when on the second day he decided to invite you to a bar, you agreed without hesitation.

How long has it been since the last time someone asked you out? Year?  Yes, it was a little sad to realize that no one was particularly interested in you. Before moving to New York, all the guys you talked to seemed to only want one thing, so you had high hopes for John.

Your evening went well at first. You ordered a drink and chatted. He really seemed nice. After the second drink, you decided to stop for a bit because the alcohol started to take a toll on your head, even though John was pushing you hard with the new drink he brought you.

"You know, I think I better slow down with cocktails; I really don’t want to be drunk and embarrass myself on the first date." You pushed your glass back a little, smiling politely.

"Oh, c'mon, baby, don’t upset me." John chuckled and put his hand on yours. You awkwardly smiled, not ready for such physical contact. "You’re here alone, right?" He tilted his head, and you didn't miss how his eyes stopped at your boobs.

"Um, not exactly... I mean, I know like five people in this city, and one of them is my brother. But we don’t live together; he has his own life." John nodded his head and leaned a little closer to you.

"So it means that we can have some fun, right, baby?"

"Fun?" 

"Mhm." One of his hands stayed on top of yours, and the other one suddenly fell on your leg. Your body tensed at the feeling of his fingers as they started to rub the bare skin of your inner thigh. You definitely didn’t expect it to happen. "I’ll take an Uber; we’ll go to my place, and we can continue our night. What do you think?"

"I didn’t want to—I mean, that’s not what I was looking for—I thought that we were going to just talk and drink, you know…" You tried to take his hand off of you, but his grip only became harder.

"Don’t try to run away now, baby." He grinned. "You dressed up for me, huh? Your tight little dress that shows your boobs says it all. You just want me." You felt goosebumps all over your body because of his look. It was intense and not as innocent as it was before. You felt disgusted because of his words. You wanted to look good, yes, but seducing him wasn’t part of your plan.

So what are you going to do now? You felt unsafe, and you didn’t know how you could escape this situation. He was obviously a creep, and he just wanted to have sex with you. You can’t go home because either he won't let you go or he might find out where you live.

 "O-okay- um- just let me- I’ll go to the restroom real quick, and we can go, okay?" You nervously smiled and stood up, almost spilling your cocktail.

"Someone’s excited, huh?" He laughed, looking at your body up and down.

You left without an answer. You really went to the restroom because the bar was half empty, and John would’ve definitely seen you going out. Luckily, the restroom was empty. You locked the door and looked at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to do.

You reached into your purse to get your phone. The first person that came to mind was Steve. Only long beeps were heard, and after the third call, you gave up.

"Fuck, Steve, I really need you right now." You scrolled through your contacts again. It wasn’t a lie that you knew five people from New York. Steve was not answering his phone. Your two neighbors, Natasha and Wanda from work, were not your close friends, so it would’ve been weird to call them because of this. There was a number of an old lady who rented you an apartment, and she was obviously not an option. And there was another person.

Bucky.

Calling him in this situation was the last thing you wanted to do. Hell, he probably won’t even answer you because he thinks that you’re just his best friend’s little sister, and he’ll definitely make fun of you about this stupid date. But you had no other variants.

"Hello?" He picked up his phone almost immediately, and you even forgot what you wanted to say. "Y/N? Are you okay?" His deep voice was full of worry, and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach.

"H-hey, Bucky. Um… I’m really, really sorry that I’m calling you, but Steve is not picking up his phone. Do you know where he is?" You walked around the small room, trying to calm down.

"Yeah, he’s meeting with some girl he's been talking about for days. He’s probably really busy right now." He chuckled, and you felt like you were about to cry. Bucky must’ve heard your breathing change because he immediately went silent. "Doll? What happened?"

"My God, it’s so stupid…" You squeezed your eyes, not wanting to cry.

"Tell me." 

"I’m at the bar. I’m on a date with a guy named John, and he became very persistent. He wants me to go to his place, but It’s- I’m not interested in this. And I can't just leave because I’m afraid that he can follow me and find out where I live… fuck I really don’t know what to do, and I wanted to ask Steve to pick me up." Your phone stayed silent for a few moments, and you already thought that he got tired of your mess and just ended the call. "Bucky?"

"Where are you? What bar? Are you in the restroom?" His voice was low, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with all of this.

"It’s that new place a few blocks away from my crib. With big neon red signs at the top. And I’m in the restroom right now."

"I’ll be there in five. Stay there and don’t open the door until you know it’s me." He said that and ended the call, leaving you nervous and excited at the same time.

The loud knock on the door almost made you jump. Fastly, but quietly, you reached there and tried to listen for any signs of who it could be.

"I hear you. Open the door; it’s me." The familiar voice came from behind the door.

You opened the door and met Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes. He seemed a little bit out of breath, as if he had run here. You quickly scanned his body, and the fact that he was wearing your favorite leather jacket made you weak in the knees. His dark brown locks that curled at the ends almost asked you to touch them. It’s not your fault that this idiot always looked ridiculously hot every single time. 

"C’mon, let’s get you home, doll." He grabbed your hand, leading you out of the bathroom to the bar, where you immediately saw a clearly annoyed John. You saw that Bucky looked at him too, but he stopped only when you were already on the street and when your bad date ran after you, loudly calling your name. 

"Hey! Where the fuck are you going? We were supposed to go to my place! You already found someone else to fuck or what?" He yelled, grabbing your other hand at the same time. You felt Bucky quickly move you behind him while still holding your wrist. 

"Don’t fucking touch her. She’s leaving, and if I ever see you near her again, I'll rip your useless hands off. Understood?" Bucky growled, straightening his body. He was obviously bigger than John, who was now less brave. John looked at you for a few seconds as he was thinking about what he should say to you, but then just turned around and left. Apparently, you weren't worth it.

You don’t know whether it was the cool night air or this whole tense situation that made you tremble. You felt Bucky’s warm body get closer to you, and his large, calloused hand rested on your shoulder. It made you feel a little bit fuzzy because you were trying so hard to hide your little, big crush on your brother’s best friend. Yeah, it was the biggest cliche, but you can’t even blame yourself. He was extremely beautiful, with those blue eyes, rosy lips, and a body that you knew was built like God's. Not to mention that Bucky was sweet and a true gentleman.

"You’re shaking, doll. Wait a second." He started to take off his jacket, and you tried to stop him.

"Bucky, no, what are you doing? You don’t have to; it’s not even that cold!" He just playfully rolled his eyes and still threw a jacket over your shoulders, leaving himself only in the tight black shirt. God, this man

A sudden wave of his cologne surrounded you. Bucky always smelled good. Something clean with a spicy and woody scent The leather was still warm from his body, and you fought against the desire to bury your nose in it. You didn't even realize that you actually did it, so when you opened your eyes, you saw Bucky, who had this annoying grin on his face.

"So you like it, huh?" He chuckled. 

"Oh, shut up; I didn't want to do that."

"Of course, doll. But we should go, I have to take you home safely, right?" Bucky said, leading you to the parking lot. To a motorcycle.

"A motorcycle?" You asked Bucky as you stepped closer to him. "No, I—where’s your car? I’ve never ridden on one of those." He had already sat there and had two helmets in his hands.

"I left it in the garage and didn’t want to make you wait here for too long. But you don’t have to worry; I know what I'm doing, and I won't let you get hurt. I promise." You came closer to him and let him put a helmet on you. You really tried not to tremble as his hands gently fixed it under your chin. "Now sit behind me and put your legs here." He pointed at the weird looking thing.

You felt weird as soon as you sat in the passenger seat. Bucky was so close, and you could feel the warmth of his body even if it was cold outside. Where should I put my hands? Hug him? Put it behind me? You awkwardly placed it on your own legs, and Bucky must’ve immediately felt your tense body because you heard a chuckle, and the next moment he grabbed your hands and put it around his waist. "You should put it right here, doll. You don’t wanna  fall, do you?"

You slightly shook your head before you placed it on his back. It was really hard to control yourself when your hands were laying on his hard press. For fuck’s sake, he should be perfect everywhere, huh?

"Hold on tight, Darlin'." You heard another deep chuckle, and he finally put his helmet on.

You don't know how long you were driving, but when Bucky finally pulled up outside your apartment building, you felt sad and happy at the same time. The ride was something else. This man almost gave you a heart attack when you stopped at a red light and he put his hand on your bare leg and asked if you were okay.

He’s just being nice, stop overthinking this.

You knew Bucky for only one month, but it was hard not to fall for him. He was an attractive, kind, and really generous man; you knew that he was like a part of Steve's family. Sometimes, when you visited your brother and accidentally met Bucky, for a few seconds you thought that maybe he finds you attractive. You always caught him looking at you.

But you knew this type of guy—always charming and flirting—who could have pretty much anyone. It was stupid of you to think that he saw you as something more than just Steve’s little sister.

"See, I told you that I was a good driver and that you'd get home safely." He hopped off the motorcycle and stood before you while you were trying to take the helmet off. "Let me unlock it."

"Thank you, Bucky." You said when you were finally free. "For this, for the jacket... You were probably very busy, and I just ruined your night by making you take care of me. Oh my god, I’m really sorry. I just wanted to forget about one person, and I thought that going on that stupid date would be a good idea, but it seems like the only thing that men want here is sex." You chuckled and watched to the ground.

"Now listen to me, doll." Bucky suddenly stepped closer to you, and you almost fainted when both of his hands took your face and forced you to look him right in the eyes. "You shouldn’t apologize for calling me. I was just hanging out with the guys from the garage, but as soon as you called me, I left everything because I can’t let you get hurt." He nervously licked his lips, and you hope that he didn’t notice how you stared at this movement. Bucky’s hands left your face and ended up on your upper arms. Did he come closer to me? "I don’t know who you were trying to forget about, but I hope that he or she is worth your time."

"We– we’re not really close. I’m probably not even his type." You shrugged. Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he buried his hands in the jeans pockets, as if he was angry and tried not to show you.

"Is it someone from the garage?" His head was a little bit tilted to the side, and you knew that right now he wouldn’t shut up about it until you gave him a name. "Maybe Sam? Or Thor? Many girls like him, you know. Do you like show-offs like Stark? Or…"

"You."

You both were silent.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What were you thinking?

"Say it again." Your throat felt dry, and you just stared at him, not knowing what to do. 

"I– Just forget about it, Bucky. It’s stupid–"

You weren't able to finish because a soft pair of lips interrupted you. One of Bucky’s hands cupped your face, lifting you up to his level, and another one laid on your waist. He was soft, warm, and gentle when his lips moved on top of yours. Your head was in the clouds, and it felt like your knees became weaker. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck, completely melting into him. He wanted to stay like this forever. Your skin and your lips were so soft, he could smell your perfume and taste your sweet lip gloss. But he knew that he should stop and do it the right way. After a few seconds, he finally pulled away, but he put his forehead on yours, and it was so cozy, like you two were in a bubble.

"I’m sorry. Was this too much? I overstepped?" He licked his lips as if he were trying to get more of your taste. "I have been thinking about asking you out since the day I saw you. I wanted to do it right. To take you on a date, to be the gentleman that you deserve, and maybe get a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night. Sorry. I didn’t even know that you liked me." Bucky wrapped his hands around your waist, and you nuzzled into hisneck,k enjoying his scent.

"And I didn’t know that you liked me either. "I thought that you felt obligated to take care of me because I'm your best friend’s sister."

"No, I promise you." He kissed the top of your head. "But Steve’s gonna kill me, by the way. He told all of us that you’re not an option and that we can’t touch you."

"Well, I love him, but he can’t decide for me."

"So… Does this mean that you’ll say ‘yes’ if I ask you to go on a date with me? On Sunday, maybe?" You lifted your head to look at him properly, and God, he was so cute when he was nervous.

"Of course, Buck, I wanna go out with you." You smiled at him, and he lowered himself again to give you another sweet kiss on the lips.

"Fuck, you should go home, doll." You’re too sweet for your own good. Wanna save you all for myself." He mumbled against your lips. "Go."

"Goodnight, Bucky. Please text me when you get home, ‘kay?"

"I will. Night, Doll." You left a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek before finally turning around to go home.

Only at home did you realize that you were still wearing his jacket. At least it was a good excuse for Bucky to see you again sooner. That night, you both ended up texting for hours until you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Maybe a date with John wasn’t that bad of an idea.

[bellyprincess]

Been having this fantasy for a bit now:

You’re so full. Having your 6 foot 5’s baby you knew would be a challenge for your barely 5 foot frame, but when the scan showed you were having twins, you were already deep in thought with the idea of how big you’d be.

Now here you are; 39 weeks in, and still no signs that the time is drawing near. Your massive belly hangs low on your frame, a marble-sized navel poking out just above the waistband of the only pair of sweatpants your widening hips haven’t outgrown. Your swollen breasts are almost the size of cantaloupes, having to resort to a tank top to contain them as you can’t even fit into the maternity bras you bought last week. Everything about you just feels stretched, heavy, and done. You’re on the verge of tears just trying to waddle your overburdened self to the bathroom.

Your only bliss is in the nest you’ve concocted for yourself. Curled up in a spare bed in the guest room you and your babies’ daddy are taking way too long to convert into the nursery, you’ve stolen every pillow, blanket and comforter in the house, snuggled and swaddled yourself until you’ve reached maximum comfiness, and just relax the whole day away. A thick blanket and leg pillow in between your thighs allows you to lay on your side, your swollen middle resting on a memory foam pillow that is quickly making a mold of your frame, while the rest of you is cocooned in anything and everything else in the house that feels cozy.

Sometimes, your baby daddy cuddles in from behind with you after getting home from work. Rubbing, whispering soft conversations with you, maybe helping alleviate some pressure by slipping two fingers between your legs, he’s ever at the ready to dote on you while you nest up and rest up; waiting for the day that your Braxton Hicks turn into genuine contractions and you can finally get these heavy babies out of you, but with how comfy you are despite the pregnancy drawbacks, and how content they seem to be staying in there, maybe you should call work and tell them your maternity leave got extended another month!

I suppose it's about time I let the rest of the world read what I've been re-reading 🤣

There's not much to add, it's perfect. I love a good size difference, give me your big babies on my small frame, that way I'd be even more belly than human at that point. knock me up with as many ten pounders as you can! and maybe they'll go even a month overdue, just growing perfectly inside mommy's huge belly, so why bother disturbing them? sure, it's painful to even move to go to the bathroom, but I can't help but get turned on everytime I look down at myself. My sweet baby daddy deserves the world for taking such good care of me, but maybe ill just have to give him a football team instead of the world!<3

[psalacanthea]

Vegetarian Pot Pie

hey whats up i made this for my friends and they said it was good, so I decided to write the recipe down while i still remember it (for once in my life), so I can make it again. I will share it with you.

This is rich, filling, delicious, but doesn't just taste like a sad chicken pot pie with no chicken. This is a proper vegetarian dish, and perfect for winter. Extremely cozy and nice. If u need something to make for Christmas but don't want to work all day, this is for you.

It does not have peas because I'm not a fucking MONSTER

...

Ingredients:

1 leek

1 sweet potato (I used white sweet potato, orange are too sugary for me)

1 large russet potato or 2 small-medium

1 large carrot or 2 small-medium

1 large parsnip

mushrooms of choice (i used pre-sliced baby bellas)

2 decent-sized cloves of garlic

sage

rosemary

thyme

parsley

cream (milk or a milk sub is ok too but it won't be as rich)

3 tbsp butter

3 tbsp ap flour

1 carton (or 2 cans) vegetable stock

white wine (i used chard but any other non-sweet white like a pinot grig would be ok. just no sweet whites, the root veggies are plenty sweet)

s&p

store-bought pie crusts (if you like suffering make it yourself!)

utensils:

1 pie pan

1 small pot

Strainer (you can use a slotted spoon to remove stuff if you don't have [or let it cool and use your fingers])

1 lg. saucepan

Knife

Spatula or Big Spoon

(steps below cut)

To begin you're going to want to enhance your vegetable stock-- store-bought veggie stock is boring and often too tomatoey, we want to mitigate that. Veggie broth doesn't have to taste dull!

Separate leek greens from whites. If your leek is pretty stumpy, you can use 2.

In a small pot at medium-high heat, sear the leek greens on both sides, and sautee 1-2 mushroom, sliced. Once the leek greens have been browned in spots, add 3/4ths cup white wine or so (you can eyeball it). Simmer until all the alcohol smell is gone from the wine (won't take long.)

If you feel inclined, you can also add any carrot/parsnip tops you might have trimmed off, to save waste. Keep in mind that these are both sweet vegetables, though, and that might change the flavor a little. Carrot greens tho would add a nice bit of freshness, and would be a fine sub for parsley.

Add vegetable stock, a sprig of thyme, rosemary, sage, and parsley (you can tie them together w/kitchen twine to make a bouquet garni, but if you're gonna strain the stock you don't need to)

You can also add bay leaf if you have like 3 containers of them in your spice cabinet for some reason and need an excuse to use them.

Turn the heat under the stock down to low, and simmer until it's reduced by about a third, maybe an hour (it can hang out while you do other stuff.)

Peel potatoes, cut into 1 to 1/2 inch chunks (small but not tiny). You should have about two cups. cube size is partially preference, but smaller chunks mean you can get all the flavor in every bite.

Do the same for the sweet potato, but reduce amount to a cup. You won't use the whole potato for this recipe, but they're SO good roasted wrapped in tinfoil and eaten plain with salt.

Scrub parsnip and carrot, cut into pieces that seem about the same as the potatoes, about a cup of each. (I don't peel my carrots don't @ me.)

Cut leek whites into half-circles.

If your mushrooms are not pre-cut, slice mushrooms until you have about a cup of them ready to go.

Please note, if you have extra veg cut-- just add it. Extra filling is no big deal you can just eat it by itself or add it to your plate of pie. No need to waste anything.

Squash and finely chop garlic cloves.

In a large saucepan on medium- medium high heat, add 3 tbsp butter and 3 tbsp flour, mix together as butter melts to form a cohesive mixture- a roux.

Cook until roux is starting to bubble. Add leeks, add carrots, mushrooms, and parsnips. Salt lightly to encourage moisture loss.

Sautee in the roux for 3-5 minutes or so until the veggies are starting to smell good and the roux is getting gold, then add garlic.

Cook for 30 seconds to a minute more, stirring constantly, until you can smell the garlic. Garlic burns easily!

Strain enhanced stock into saucepan.

Add potatoes and sweet potatoes.

Stir until the roux dissolves into the stock and it begins to thicken, and then turn down to low heat (you want small and regular bubbles, but not big glorpy ones).

It might not look like enough gravy, but we don't want a ton. It's a pie, not a stew. If you REALLY think it's not enough, your stock might have reduced too far. Add a bit of water if you must.

Remove leaves from 1 large sprig thyme, and add to filling. Remove leaves from and finely dice 1 sprig rosemary. Do the same for sage. Toss out the stems.

The gravy should still be thin-ish, but we're going to reduce it down more as the potatoes are cooked through.

Cook until potatoes are just barely fork-tender. Even slightly undercooked is ok. Taste gravy for salt and pepper. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Add 1/3rd cup heavy cream/milk or so. Stir in.

Strip the leaves from 1-2 sprigs of parsley, finely chop, stir into gravy.

Taste again. Season again if necessary.

Let the filling cool. Try not to eat it all.

Unroll 1 pre-made pie crust, and put in the bottom of your pie pan. Try to make it even all the way around.

Now! The easy way to seal a pie (without egg wash) is as follows.

Fold down the edge of the lower crust so that it sticks out past the top edge of the pie pan.

Add filling. Get that shit as full as you can while keep that sticking out edge of the pie crust dry.

Place top pie crust over the pie.

Fold the edge of the lower crust over the upper crust, rolling them up together to make the crust edge.

Either with a fork or with pinching, make the edge crust look prettier.

If the edges of both the lower crust and the upper crust have been rolled inside themselves, you shouldn't have filling leakage.

Cut venting holes on top in whatever quirky design you want.

Stick in a 350f (177c?) oven until it's done.

I don't know how long, I don't measure those things. The crust will be golden brown and the filling will be bubbly.

the wine is skippable, yes, but it adds some acidity that you need. try a squeeze of lemon into your gravy if you don't use it.

[sugarsfics]

Messing Around In IKEA

Summary: Your pregnant with your second child, with your husband Steve. You have recently moved into a new house. Time to get furniture at the best store there is IKEA. 

Trope: Dad!Steve x Mom!reader 

A/N: I have never been in an IKEA store before :/ so bare with me. Also sorry I thought this posted yesterday and it didn't

Warning: BIG FLUFF, kissing 

Word count: 1.0k 

30 Day Challenge: Day 4 Send Request <3

The Harrington Clan pulled into the big blue store IKEA. “blue” your son Grayson said “Yes baby it is blue good job” your husband said. Grayson squealed at the praise his dad gave him. Steve pulled into a parking spot, turn off the car then quickly got his carbon copy, Grayson out, “no I want to go with mommy” Even though he was Steve’s twin he is the biggest mommy boy there is, that scared you and Steve a little bit because you weren’t sure how he was going to reattract when the baby comes. After he put Grayson into the cart, he helped you out of the car “My wife” he said taking your hand to help you out “My husband” you said back giving him a kiss, even after years of being with each other your kisses still make him blush. “hi mommy” Grayson chirped “Hi my baby” you said kisses his forehand “My boys ready” you asked “Yes” Grayson eyes went huge coming closer to the store “big” he mumbled. The store was huge, long, tall aisles, many displays, many colors. This was going to be hard.  

“Ok where should we start first” Steve asks “Ummm......let’s look for the living room” You had in mind what you wanted a nice big couch to fit all your friends and family, you and Steve want a big family and the house you just brought was going to be your family house. It was a beautiful house it was a light gray with white windows and a lovely porch, 2 story house with 5 bedrooms, a nice big backyard with a pool. It was on the outside of Hawkins, Steve wanted a fresh start and a clean slate to his name, but always wanted to be near his friends just in case they need anything. The gang love coming over at your old place, the harrington house was always so cozy and welcoming, and Grayson loved his aunts and Uncles, especially Uncle Will.  

You had some furniture from your old place but the living room is ten times bigger so you need a new couch to match with your old lounge chairs. Grayson was getting fussy in the cart “down Grayson wants down” he started talking in third person a month ago “Ok hang on "Steve told him as he stopped the cart and brought him down “Hold mommy’s hand ok” he nodded and grabbed your hand “mommy hand” you kept walking till you were met with couches “wow that is a lot” you said row and rows of couches were in front of you, so many colors, shapes, and size. “This is going to be harder than I thought” after spending a good 20 minutes looking at couches “Ok this is not working” Steve said “We need a new strategy” he continued. He grabbed Grayson and walked up to a couch and plopped down on it “STEVE” you pointed at the sign Please no seating on the displays “It says no sitting we are laying down” “Steve” “We need to find out of comfortable the couches are because it will be in our house forever and I don’t want an uncomfortable couch so” he patted the spot next to him “Come sit let's find our couch” 

Every couch you sat on Steve and Grayson made a pros and cons list “This one is very big, but it feels like carboard” “This one is cool but as sharp corners, and we don’t need them hurting you or the baby” “blue” Grayson said for every blue couch he sat on. At about the hour mark of sitting on couches there was a light gray big couch that got your eye “Let’s try this one” Steve helped you off the yellow couch you were sitting on the you waddle on to the light gray one. “Oh, this one is nice” he said “Just imagine movies nights on this” “I am going to 100% fall asleep on this” “It goes with our chair too” “I think we found it” he said smiling at you. Grayson wasn’t making a sound which scared both of you so you quickly looked over at him “Just like his daddy” you whispered he had fallen asleep mouth open on the couch “I think he likes this one” Steve giggled “He looks so comfortable makes me want to take a nap” you leaned your head on Steve admiring you son as he rubbed your belly “I can’t wait to have our house be filled with little Harringtons” he whispered into your ear while kissing your temple “Me too” you sigh  

You don’t remember how it happened, but you were suddenly woken up by a worker “Excuse me um... You're not supposed to be sleeping let alone on the displays” “I'm so sorry it was just such a nice couch and-” “Don’t worry about it this happens all the time would you like to purchase the couch” “Yes please let me wake up my husband” you shook Steve which startled him “What happened” you nodded toward the work “Time to buy the couch” “Oh ok” They wrote down our information and were going to deliver the couch to the house. After paying Steve scooped up Grayson and brought him to the car, he buckled him in then kissed his forehead. He walked over to your side seeing you struggling to get in “I told you, you can’t be getting up and down on things without help” “But you were busy with Grayson and I didn’t want to be a burden” “Babe you are my wife the mother of my kids literally carrying my second child into you there is no way that you are a burden you are my everything” he said sweetly kissing your lips then bring you into the car “Now let's go home I am beat from couch finding” You walked into the house and remember “Babe we didn’t find a dinning set or anything else we needed” 

Tag list: @thefreak0fhawkinshigh let me know if you want to be added

[that-giorgione]

You too wanna make Giorgione's Hot chocolate to warm your heart this holiday season?

Here's what you're going to need:

For 1 Mug

Ingredients

250ml of milk (whole or not, your preference)

5g of cocoa power

3g of corn starch (optional)

22g of dark chocolate, at least 50% cocoa (if you prefer you can also use normal chocolate too)

25ml of coffee (facultative)

a bit of cinnamon powder (about .5 grams, but adjust to taste)

one small cinnamon cookie

whipped cream

Preparation

Take the chocolate bar and chop it up into little pieces, either with a knife or by putting it in a cloth or bag and what it until it submits to your whims. This step is important, as it will melt easier into the milk. You can also use chocolate chips if it's more convenient to you.

In a very small bowl, put the cocoa and cinnamon powder, if you want your hot chocolate to be a bit more dense, add the corn starch too, then mix everything toghether trying to get rid of as many big lumps as you can

Take one (1) small cinnamon cookie and show it your wrath by crumbling it into small pieces. Be mindful, these are going to be sprinkled onto the whipped cream, so choose an appopriate crumbling size based on your personal preferences.

If you choose to start the day with this cozy beverage, prepare a little cup of coffe (about an espresso-sized cup)

Procedure

Pour the milk in a container (preferably one that has a little spout for ease of pouring) and slowly heat it up on the stove. If you wish to add coffee, you can add it now.

Once it warms up (about 45°) add the chocolate pieces and mix until they completely dissolve into che milk, Make sure to not let the milk get to a boil. [This step can also be done with a microwave, just frequently take it out of the michaelwave to mix.]

After all the chocolate has been melted into the milk, pour a little bit into the powders mix you prepared earlier and mix. In this way you are going to avoid lumps into the final product.

Keep adding milk and mixing until the powders have all been incorporated, them, after making sure you have no lumps, you can pour everything back into your main container and take it off the heat.

Mix until omogenous and pour into your favourite mug.

Take your whipped cream and spray a generous amount on top.

Sprinkle the crumbled cookie atop your mountain of whipped cream.

If you feel extra fancy add either a sprinkle of cocoa on top or shave a little bit of dark chocolate. Any other topping is welcomed too.

Drink. Enjoy. Warm the body and the soul. Maybe take a nap. You are going to need the energies for the coming days.

And that's all!

[lordgrimwing]

Marsupial au

[from this ask!]

The basics: everything is the same but the elves are marsupial and have pouches to carry around their babies!

Why would @nighttimepatrons and I make this au? Because it’s cute. Imagine little elflets trying to climb into their parents’ belly pouches to hide. Imagine the process of pouch-weaning an elflet who is really too big to be climbing in anymore. It’s just cute, ok?

Now, let’s talk about some elves and their pouches!

Nerdanel: Very roomy, very comfy. She’s had a lot of kids in there. Solid 8/10 (points deducted because occupants might get banged against rock she’s chiseling for her latest sculpture)

Feanor: Comfy place to curl up for a snooze but it gets a bit hot, and he will kick you out when he goes to the forge. 7/10

Maedhros: Excellent, so roomy, can easily hold two or more elflets at once, he’ll never bump against pointy table corners. 9/10 (some argue it’s too roomy)

Maglor/Celegorm/Caranthir: it’s fine, I guess, but why would you go in there when Maedhros is an option? 5/10 (at least Celegorm has good stories)

Curufin: “Leaving was the right thing to do, but I miss him sometimes. I miss all of them—who they were.” 3/10 (sample size of 1)

Ambarussar: The only things in those pouches are arrows. Unrated.

Glorfindel: A good place to hide for a few minutes or to peek out of during hikes to enjoy the view but he will evict you when he’s busy. 6/10

Erestor: Due to unfortunate childhood experiences, the only thing getting into this half-elf’s pouch is lent and yeast infections. 1/10 (Glorfindel’s trying to help)

Celeborn: He looks like the weak link during pouch-weaning, but it’s a trick. Grandpa will Not let you inside when mom says no more pouch. 7/10

Galadriel: No one’s dared to get in lately, but Celebrian reports that she was quite comfortable. 5/10 (points deducted for intimidation factor)

Celebrian: Cozy, a little tight with twins, very easy to fall asleep. 8/10

Gil-galad: Little Arwen’s claimed it as hers and only hers, so it mut be good. 7/10 (unfortunately she had to be pulled out after he fell at Sauron’s hands, which is very traumatic for an elflet)

Elrond: Much to his children’s confusion, he doesn’t have a pouch. No one in Melian’s line has one.

Marsupial clothing would be designed so that elflets have pouch access, so it isn’t an uncommon sight for little heads to suddenly poke out from between the folds of a robe, or for an elflet to start pulling at their parent’s clothes, trying to find the opening. Pants are a no-go when an elflet’s involved, there’s just no room to stretch.

Pouch hygiene is very important. A healthy pouch is a little moist and it should be regularly cleaned to prevent itchy yeast infections. Lent and dust can also cause irritation. Elrond gives Glorfindel salves to try to get Erestor to use in his crusty pouch so he doesn’t itch himself raw in his sleep.

There are some less fun parts, too, of course. Like the fact that itty bitty elflets might not be noticed if they fall out of the pouch, leaving them abandoned on the ground and too small to be alone for long. Or the way kidnappers can hold out a sack and some elflets will climb right in because it looks like a pouch. But most of this is happy! (outside of Erestor being relentlessly teased by his human playmates and Arwen being traumatized by Gil-galad’s death)

Oh, did I mention that Gil-galad, Elrond, and Celebrian are a threesome yet, because they are.

And kidnap fam totally happens. E+E like Maedhros’ pouch more than Maglor’s.

Ask me about fics that live rent-free in my head!

[bardic-inspo]

Writer Interview

Tagged by the wonderful @electricshoebox 💜💜💜 Thank you, friendo!!

Tagging forward @vixstarria, @littlejuicebox, @ravnloft if you'd like to do this, too. No worries if not! 💜

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

16 (and counting!)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

351,099

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Red Heart indicates smut included somewhere in the fic (or will be included in future chapters)❤️

All are Fallout 4 fics except the last two, which are Baldur's Gate 3.

Bring the Gasoline (MacCready x Sole Survivor Longfic❤️)

No Rest for the Wicked (MacCready x Deacon X Sole OT3)

We Never Go Anywhere Nice (MacCready x Deacon x Sole OT3)

Worried Sick (MacCready x Deacon x Sole OT3)

Midnight Chimes (Astarion x Cursed!Tav longfic❤️)

Honorable Mention: Blood in the Mortar (Ascended Astarion x Vampire Bride Tav❤️❤️❤️)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I'm sometimes (very) fashionably late in doing so. But it's really important to me for a number of reasons. I don't ever want anyone who takes the time to read/comment to feel like I take that for granted (I absolutely don't). It is so incredibly motivating to know there's someone out there enjoying what I'm writing. I want any/all commenters to know I just appreciate them so much.

I've also stumbled into friendships through commenting back and forth on fics before, which was wonderful and unexpected and just opened a new dimension of fandom/community for me. Compliments are wonderful, but I mostly share my writing because I want to feel connected to that sense of community and enjoy that mutual love of whatever universe sprouted the fics in the first place. Responding back to comments makes me feel more in tune with all of that.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I tend to follow a "more hurt more comfort" motto, so most of the angst I write is followed up by comfort (or at least, a comforting note at the end).

I'm gonna say Warm Bodies. It's an angsty Fallout 4 smut fic featuring Deacon x MacCready x Sole Survivor in an established (somewhat domestic) OT3. A close call with death rattles them and they have emotional sex about it. Although there's a lot of comfort with the angst, the ending note is slightly melancholy. It implies that either a) a pretty significant lifestyle change is in order for all of them, which goes against the grain of their characters or b) they'll have more close calls until, one day, it's really too close, and they lose each other for good.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I almost always go for a happy/hopeful ending. It's hard to pick one, but it's probably gotta be one my fluffy domestic MacCready x Deacon x SoSu oneshots, Hungry Hearts. Ends with a big happy family moment.

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not yet, at least. I did once thoroughly outline and started drafting an AU that was basically the plot of Casino Royale with Deacon as Bond and MacCready as Vesper and other Fallout universe characters (like Mr. House) inserted in. I don't see myself going back to finish that one at this point.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nah. I think I'm too small fry for that in terms of my audience size/reach and that's just fine with me. I'm cool tending this cozy little campfire over here.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yeah! I mostly enjoy writing smut with a ton of feelings/history to it, (Warm Bodies is a super emotional comfort sex OT3 fic; Blood in the Mortar is an evil power couple with an established dynamic relishing in some power play and spicy use of their telepathic bond). But I've also dabbled in some kink exploration in Follow Suit, which plays a little bit with dom/sub dynamics and very light bondage.

I'm really looking forward to writing upcoming smut scenes for Midnight Chimes. Astarion's relationship with sex is such a huge part of his arc, and I'm looking forward to writing the smut scenes in a way that shows his own individual progression with that, and also how his relationship with Naomi deepens/changes over time.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! I am so feast or famine with my writing process/preferences, I don't think I would make a great writing partner at this point. Maybe someday!

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Ahh that's tough. It's really going to be, whichever is at the forefront of my mind at the moment. Currently, that's Astarion x Tav (especially my own Tav, who I'm doing a lot OC work/development for). But MacCready x Sole (Natasha) feel like, nostalgic, warm and fuzzy friends to me. I think my heart will always get soft when I think of them together (and with Deacon!).

Really, any ships I used to be more fixated on are just dormant and still have a space in my head/heart.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I could very well come full circle and feel the pull to deep dive into Fallout again (especially if the TV show turns out to be good, or if they release a new single-player game in the series), but the only further Fallout 4 fic I see myself finishing at this point is Bring the Gasoline (most likely by hermit drafting the rest of it and waiting to share further until I'm done). I think the amount of ideas I had, unfortunately, outmatched my motivation/hyperfixation on that universe. I had a lot of ideas for fics showing the actual OT3 relationship "negotiation" that I've had vivid daydreams about, and lots of wild notes for, but I don't have plans to pick up again at this point.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I get a lot of positive feedback on my action scenes. Also a lot of feedback that my writing is really vivid/visceral/immersive. I think I'm good at putting the reader in the character's shoes/in the heat of a moment, and wrapping them into the character's thoughts/feelings right off the bat. I also feel like character work, generally, is a strong suit of mine (character voice, mannerisms, individuality).

Something that has been really touching to hear is how well people respond to my OCs. I've done a lot of work to make unique/compelling/flawed original characters that readers can get invested in. I am still absolutely floored by some of comments I've gotten re: Natasha (my Sole Survivor). And although Naomi (Tav) is a newer character in my arsenal, I've gotten to play with some alternate (evil) versions of her, and folks seem to be intrigued by both.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Echoing Riss on the crutch words and phrases. I do have some editing steps I use to try to mitigate this. In the past, I've also had a bad habit of transposing/mingling words from different fantasy universes (mirelurk vs. mudcrab; Storm Coast vs. Sword Coast) without even realizing I'm doing it. I'm hyperconscious about that, now.

I also struggle to be concise. I made a commitment to work more on this this year, and in doing so, am trying to strike a balance with it. Ideally, if I have a lot of words, there should be a certain density of ideas/information being shared. So, if a fic gets long because it's packing a lot of punch that way, I don't want to cut it off unless it's too much to share at once. If it's long just because I'm being wordy, well, maybe that comes down to self-confidence, and me needing to let my words stand on their own without so much hedging/propping up.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I've experimented with this (and now cringe about it in retrospect), but hey, I think it takes some trial and error to figure out what works. My general preference is to write the lines in the language being used for the bulk of the fic, but then add a phrase like "X character said in Elvish" after. I think the less the writer knows of the other language themselves, the more they should err away from writing a lot in it. I think short phrases or single words in a different language can also be to great effect (as long as they're properly researched/understood).

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Warrior Cats as a kid loose on the internet 😺

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I want to write some Shadowheart/Karlach smut! I'm a little intimidated as I've yet to add F/F to my smut fic punch card, and I wanna get a free sub but I think they have so much angsty sweet potential and I already have a little outline for it!

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Bring the Gasoline will always be my baby. It's my first real fic, and the thing that got me through a lot of ups and downs. I poured so much of myself into it.

But for now, I have to go with Blood in the Mortar. I just had an absolute blast writing it. It gave me confidence back in a way I really needed. It made me feel like I'd grown in skills I'd been working on for a while (particularly with writing dialogue and smut, and character work in general). I got to write villains, really for the first time, and was surprised I had so much fun with it. It was the perfect blend of challenge and getting back into my element, and writing/sharing it felt really uplifting. Felt like letting my hair down, hehe.

[authorcofficial]

REMAKE

Scarlett the wandering sweetheart🌹

"Everybody deserve to be loved... including you"

Pronouns : He/Him

Birthday : May 5

Height : 5'9/176cm

Personality : Optimistic Risk-taker

Likes : Roses, animals, cooking, crafting, art, dressing up, love, kisses, and hugs

Dislikes : Being left alone, witches

Fatal Flaw : Gets a 'little' crazy when gambling, lost control once anger take over.

Other : Could turn his body to a toddler size, don't make him too drunk or else he'll destroy everything he held.

More about Scarlett:

He's a very optimistic person who loves to think positively in any situation. He likes to give support to those who need it and will give the love that you wish for. Whatever kind of love it is.

He's like a puppy. Got excited when he sees somebody he's close with, just like a puppy when it sees it's master. He's pretty obedient too…

Growing up in a strict but loving parent, he always got told to do what his parents said because it's for his own good. So, he did it to other people as well. But don't worry, he knows when someone is not trustworthy to become obedient at.

He is from a group that I made called 'U7' and he got the title of 'the group's sweetheart' and the one who has the best visual from the others.

Older than he looks.

After getting to know Kuras and his love towards living creatures such as animals, he opens up a vet that is not far from Kuras' clinic. He'll accept any creature that you consider as 'pets'. He learned things from Kuras as well.

In the U7, he and one more person are the one who can freely go to different dimensions and timelines. But for some reason after he unintentionally transmigrated to Eridia, he could only do it with a certain short amount of time and used a lot more energy than before, even until he passed out.

He lives somewhere that is not far from the wet wick. An old small rusty cabin that he turned into a cozy one. He planted roses there to make it obvious that he lives there. Although, only those who are close to him are allowed to enter for some reasons. He also manages to have his own room at the wet wick and Kuras' clinic.

Very affectionate. His love languages are acts of service and physical affection. Kisses, hugs, fucks- actually, he's only give the fuck options to his believed.

Dudes magnet. Actually, not just dudes but you get the point. Due to some of his um… assets, he always gets the eyes of a few people wherever he goes. He really couldn't care less what kind of stuff he's wearing.

If he's in an anime, he would be that one character who always gives the viewers the fanservice… Just saying.

The eyes on the drawing are purposely drawn like that. He actually had a pretty big irises compared to others. He just goes that way.

He learned a magic that could turn his body into a toddler. Which he likes to use when he's sneaking up.

Even from his looks that really looked like a good boy, let's not forget that he's a monster as well. A creature that is NOT a human. A creature that could possibly kill people when he's not in control.

Don't bring him to a casino or any place that is related to gambling, that is a warning.

Love dressing up. He loves wearing something new and he's a fan of shopping for things.

A person who loves the feeling of danger and always injures himself. Well, he's not going to be an optimistic risk-taker for nothing, hunny. Always goes to the dangerous options when he's in a difficult situation. He will get wounds here and there, but he'll survive.

A violent drunk… totally not recommended to give him more than 3 tiny glasses of alcohol.

Very good with children. He's more of a mother than a father...

Remaking of this. I have changed his lore a little bit and now I'm satisfied with this one, for now. -Author C

[yilvue]

HELLO!! i love your kiriko post!! the format looks so nice!! can you make headcanons with junkerqueen with a fem! short! s/o? like 5”2!! also junkerqueen parent headcanons? thank you!! :)

omfogmgognmgmgmg my first request! hwhhehekekekekksohappy

anyway, of course, DUH I CAN MAKE THAT FOR YOU ;]

(also, i dont know if junkerqueen is the parent of you or you're her wife so am just gonna)

tw ; mentions of blood, australian | fluff but with spicy at the end!

junkerqueen x short!fem!parent!reader

Ah, Junkerqueen— the 7-foot-tall female who goes and all in every situation. A wild one, that. Who would’ve thought someone would catch her eye? (spoiler: it’s you)

She met you through errands of yours, somewhat connected to Junkerqueen herself. Your height caught her attention, “why is she a size of a bloody can?” she would think.

BUT NONETHELESS, you became her queen after all the times spent together. Ah, the sweet sweet memories.

Odessa LOVES how you fit onto her big-toned arms. Your warm hugs just hit differently.

She would compare her hands to yours on a daily basis and say how cute it is.

Though you are considered short and all, you're actually pretty strong. One of the reasons that Odessa pulled her heart onto you.

You use her big clothes as pajamas. Odessa would get red like a tomato after seeing you wearing her big clothes.

Odessa would dig into a pile of junk to find trinkets and music albums just for you. She calls it her whacko mixtape or something.

You two definitely shower together, in a playful way.

Somehow, using her as a pillow works as well.

She’s the big spoon. OBVIOUSLY. Well, it depends. She loves back hugs too and never complains.

Stealing each other’s blanket doesn’t exist anymore, it’s big enough for the both of you!

You have to look up just to make eye contact with her. One of the things that make her smile.

Odessa prefers that you do her eye makeup. On her lap.

You know that ''strong glare turns into a soft gaze'' in books sometimes? Yeah, Odessa does that to you.

She’s the cook of the house and makes her own recipe named after you. "KISS THE COOK, DARLING!" "Alright, alright, have it your way." "YESSSSSSSSSS!"

You use Junkerqueen as your walking heater. Her cozy, passionate body is enough for you to become warm.

You are mostly the one who takes care of her wounds and injuries. Loves the attention you are giving her every second.

Odessa would lift you up whenever you peck her on the lips. She finds it absolutely adorable. Her big hands fit onto your waist.

She would definitely ruffle and mess with your hair like a good girl.

Did I also mention that you two had a daughter together and got married? Guess not. (Odessa is the one who proposed btw hehe)

Though Junkerqueen appears scary and tall like a skyscraper, she takes care of her child in the most gentle way possible.

Would call you mommy accidentally and intentionally. "What? You ARE technically a mother, right, darling?" "Christ, Odessa... not in front of the kid, please."

Junkerqueen loves to spoil her only child, would try to be the best mother, and give her a good childhood.

Your daughter showed you a drawing of you three altogether holding hands, you burst into tears as a proud mother. Odessa laughs in the background because of the drawing.

Whenever going to get groceries— Odessa is the one who takes the best cereal at the back of the shelf. "This one, darling?" "Yes, thank you, dear."

INFINITE PIGGYBACKS GLITCH

She becomes calm and controlled because of you and the loving relationship.

DARLING, MY LOVE, BABE— her brain is pre-programmed to call you that at every sentence.

Pretty sure you're the only person who sees her with her hair down. AND SHE'S DROP-DEAD GORGEOUS WITH IT.

You love her with all your heart and she knows it. Brags about it sometimes.

Meeting her was life-changing, the feeling of regret never went inside your head while being together.

Would definitely prefer dying by your side.

A day without her makes the sky turn grey <3333333333

bonus bc am so cool (sexy stuff over here)

She likes cutting you with her knife. You know, blood. She likes the look of blood on you. (shut up i know what am doing)

Bit your tongue one time while making out. Promised she won't do it again, you liked it anyway.

definitely owns a strapSHUTJPOURTOPEJMKKL;;L'F,EGVOPRPOGK,EFMYINTRUSIVETHOGUHTSWON

Likes roleplays.

Necks and legs are her favorite place to kiss. LWARD HAVE MERuCY

Before making real real love, she would make a trail of kisses to your stomach till she's at her destined destination.

(author note; am sorry but typing specific genitalia parts makes me want to unlive myself SORRY AM GONNA TRAIN MYSELF TO SAY THOSE WORDS)

Usually three fingers. yk what I mean stop lying.

She loves to see you cry while doing it.

[idyllic-ghost]

the right moment; jun x reader

request: This came out of nowhere but it popped in my head so i needed to send it. Basically i was thinking of a medium?? (honestly do whatever size you feel comfortable with but please don’t have it be super short) sized fic request with 5, 15, and 18 from your promptlist with only fluff and do it for Jun from Seventeen (not a shock since it's from me) but i was thinking it could be about Junhui and his partner (writing them as gender neutral or she/her works fine!!) and how junhui has been trying to get himself to propose for a few days yet he is nervous and also he isn't being low-key about it AT ALL (keeps rubbing his fingers over their ring finger and is happy yet nervous yet loving yet stressed which his partner notices because they know each other like the back of their hands) so basically by his third try/day his partner kinda expects it but isn't sure if they are 100% right about it plus he doesn’t even realize so once he makes this plan for a amazing date to happen the next day and he is finally ready... his partner is just slightly waiting for the proposal as they enjoy their date but at the same time isn't fully focused on it even if they know about it because they are truly so so fond of him and find him truly so lovable even without the proposal thoughts that they basically forget yet because of that they almost reveal they might know the plan and almost ruin the wedding proposal (by saying something random that reveals they know) without thinking but then before they actually accidentally could, they get shocked by junhui (in some way?? Idk how but he does something shockingly romantic and/or something big happens that he planned) so they don’t ruin anything and they can't help but be 1000% genuinely shocked and more in love with jun then they already were and of course in the end they say yes to junhui’s wedding proposal and it’s a happy ever after for the both of them!! - from 🐼 anon

prompts: 5. "what are you smiling about?" 15. "it's always been you" 18. "kiss me"

synopsis: jun has been meaning to propose to you, but he just can't seem to do it... he needs some help.

a/n: ig i'm obsessed with writing jun and sunsets now idk. also, i'm not very good at writing about marriage or engagements, so pls deal with this half-assed storyline

cw: none

genre: fluff, established relationship-

word count: 1.8k

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆. .⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆. .⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆. .⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

It had been a week since his last attempt, and Junhui was more than ready to try again. At least he thought so. But when you're standing in front of him, prettier than ever, and looking at him expectantly, Jun stumbles.

"What did you want to tell me?", you ask softly.

He's holding your hands in his, gently rubbing them with his thumb. It's a nervous habit, constantly needing to move around somehow. The sun is going down in the background, and you're sitting in the kitchen. A quiet and homely proposal was perfect... cozy... safe. But Junhui didn't feel safe. He felt like he was walking on a thin line, strung over a giant pool filled with hungry killer whales.

"It's just...", he's already off to a bad start when those are the first two words that come tumbling out of his mouth after such a long pause.

Subconsciously, his fingertips graze over your left ring finger. The ring was in his pocket. He just had to pull the box out and as you to marry him. It seemed easy enough, but Junhui was incredibly stressed out.

"I love you...", he said meekly and paused again.

"I love you too, Jun.", you smiled at him, "You know I do."

"Yeah... I just...", he took a deep breath, "I wanted to tell you. Just in case you didn't know that I love you..."

He caved. And you let out a small laugh at his aloofness. At the sight of your bright smile, Junhui couldn't feel sad that he had failed for a second time. He was only happy that you were with him, and as they say: the third time's a charm.

You figured out that Jun wanted to propose during his fourth attempt. At the most random times, he would start getting emotional, taking your hands into his and anxiously rubbing your ring finger while he stuttered out some form of declaration of love. Every time you answered with reassuring words about the fact that you loved him too and that he could tell you anything. You couldn't understand why it was so hard for him to say. Then again, you only saw it from your point of view, and you were confident that you loved him and that he loved you. You had considered proposing yourself, but seeing him try so hard made you think it would be rude to not let him do it.

Maybe it wasn't very nice, but you had started teasing him about it. Sometimes you mentioned his mom as your mother-in-law, or you started showing him wedding videos you found while scrolling on TikTok. You liked to think of it as urging him to pop the question instead of just teasing. Of course, Jun didn't see it that way - he was only terrified that you had started catching on.

After his fourth attempt, Junhui went to his friends to get help. He wanted to have planned it all by himself, but now he realized he might just need some help.

"Why would you do it at home?", Soonyoung questioned, "Make a BIG gesture. They'll love that!"

"No, they won't...", Jihoon sighed.

"Why not?"

"Let's keep it low-key, Soonyoung.", Seungcheol agreed, "Cleary, Jun knows Y/N the best, so I think he would try to do something big if they'd like that."

They were sitting in a group in Jun's apartment that he had gotten with you. He had explained to his members that he was planning on proposing but that the moment had never felt right. Obviously, they were furious that he hadn't told them yet, but they were way more excited that they would get to help plan it all.

"Go to the first place you met.", Joshua suggested, "Get nostalgic, you know."

"I don't want to propose to them in a café.", Junhui sighed and leaned back into the couch, "It has to be private."

"What about a garden?", Jeonghan said out of the blue after having been quiet for a while, "Like a botanical garden or someplace with a nice lake."

"I know a place with a gazebo.", Soonyoung added.

"Why do you know that?", some of the members questioned.

"It's nice. I like nice things.", was his only excuse, "Anyway, it's a park, it's near a lake, it has a nice sunset view. If you want something low-key, I think it could be perfect."

Plans were made, and only a week thereafter it was time. Junhui asked you if you wanted to go out for date night. Date night strictly happened at home - it was a time for relaxation that only happened once a week. To spoil it by going out could be a big mistake, but because Junhui had been trying so hard to propose to you lately, you said yes.

It was a nice park, and there weren't many people around. It was the perfect place for a cute proposal. You thought nothing else of it. You were only happy that Junhui seemed much more confident. The two of you walked by a small stream, that was leading you to a much bigger pond.

"Jun, where are we going?", you said as you looked around.

The ground was covered in rocks and beautifully green moss, and everywhere around were trees. You couldn't see much ahead, you were only following Junhui.

"I swear, you'll love it.", he said with a cat-like smile.

"That doesn't answer my question, love.", you said with a giggle.

Jun only kept on smiling, you hadn't seen him this happy in a while. You stopped walking, making him stop as well since you were holding his hand.

"What are you smiling about? Are you leading me to a trap or something?", you asked.

Obviously, you knew he was going to try to propose to you - but you would really like to know where you were going. Sometimes Junhui got strange ideas, and you weren't about to go swimming in a lake even if it meant that he would finally propose to you.

"There's a nice view of the sunset just past these trees.", he explained and looked over to the west, "And if we hurry, we can still make it there in time."

"Fine...", you nodded, "But next date night I get to choose what we're doing."

Junhui only laughed because you knew so little. While the two of you were walking, his friends were placing out roses and candles around the area where he would propose. They should be done by now and far gone from the place. Even if they had argued that they should've stayed for the moment and taken pictures, Junhui specifically asked them not to. This would be a private thing between him and you, no one else should be there.

As you got out of the woods you saw the big pond. There were still some trees around, and the color green completely surrounded the area. Junhui squeezed your hand and led you to a small wooden bridge, with candles lining the railings and flower petals laying on the wood planks underneath your feet.

"Jun, why are there candles here?", you murmured.

Junhui didn't answer. He only kept leading you forward to a gazebo made in marble. Six marble pillars, beautifully carved, held up an iron dome which was sculpted into looking like vines. Music was playing from a speaker, something romantic that you couldn't quite place.

"Jun...", you said as you looked around the place.

He let go of your hand as you walked up to the structure. You rested your hand against one of the pillars before stepping inside. Why you hadn't seen this place before was beyond you, but the lack of other people around made you assume it was because it was well hidden. Jun's arms wrapped around your waist from behind as the two of you watched the sun settle into the horizon.

"Y/N...", he said as you turned around to face him, "I've been trying to ask you something for a while."

He grabbed your hands, his anxious fingertips grazing your ring finger as usual. You couldn't help but smile at the action, as it had become a very endearing trait to you.

"I haven't been able to do it because it never felt right... and I got incredibly nervous.", he chuckled, "But I wanted you to know... it's always been you."

Jun got down on one knee, still holding your hands. Tears started prickling in your eyes as you let out a soft gasp.

"Ever since I met you, something in my heart just... I knew it had to be you.", he stammered, "And I had a speech planned, but I can't remember it anymore..."

The two of you laughed nervously. Your cheeks were hurting from the utmost happiness. Jun pulled out the small black box from his pocket and opened it. A silver ring with a small diamond, something that fit just for you.

"Will you marry me, Y/N?", he said.

"Of course! Yes!", you let out another bubbly laugh.

Jun bit his lower lip in an attempt to hide his big smile. He took the ring out of the box and placed it on your finger... then he waited there.

"... I never planned this far...", he mumbled, "What do I do now?"

"Just kiss me!", you giggled.

He stood back up, his lips meeting yours quickly. Your arms wrapped around his neck and Jun put his arms around your waist. Teeth were clashing against each other when you couldn't contain your smiles. It didn't matter, nothing really mattered except for the person in front of you at this moment. As he suddenly lifted you up you let out a squeal and broke the kiss. Junhui put you back down on your feet and leaned his forehead against yours.

"You finally did it.", you let out a breathy laugh.

"Finally?", he furrowed his brows.

"Yeah, I started catching on that you were trying to propose after some time.", you giggled.

"Are you serious?", Jun sighed and shut his eyes.

"It's okay! I thought it was cute!", you assured him, "I was thinking of just doing it myself for a while, but I didn't want to steal your thunder."

Jun looked at you again. Butterflies, similar to the ones you felt during your first date, flew around in your stomach. Your hand cupped his cheek, and you pressed another kiss on his lips. Just a short one because you didn't want to look away for too long. The burning sensation of his eyes on you made you look away eventually. You took the opportunity to look at the ring placed perfectly on your finger.

"It's really pretty.", you said, "Thank you."

"Pretty people deserve pretty things.", he kissed your temple and you turned back to him to go back into his embrace.

[southern-god1]

I posted 270 times in 2022

135 posts created (50%)

135 posts reblogged (50%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@inanimatetffantasies

@southern-god1

@athleticbrutality

@alphadose

I tagged 178 of my posts in 2022

Only 34% of my posts had no tags

#ask - 118 posts

#inanimate tf - 41 posts

#southern avengers - 29 posts

#inanimate tf - 25 posts

#southernization - 23 posts

#story - 2 posts

#beard tf - 1 post

#vehicle tf - 1 post

#fallout - 1 post

#sted - 1 post

Longest Tag: 18 characters

#southern vineyards

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Hello Sir. Yankee named Jack here. Life is way too hard for me. It hurts to even think about. Can you transform me into something for a hot southern god to use. Take all the pain and stress away by using me until all I know is to worship a real man. Maybe some time as a boot or beard would do the trick so I can experience the life of a hard working man.

To say that Jack was having a miserable day was an understatement. He had been fired and his boyfriend of three years had left him that same day! Trudging home at night in the rain - because of course today of all days his car broke down and he didn’t have change for the bus-, Jack cursed the world. As if on cue, and almost as if it was mocking him, a bus drove by through a massive puddle, spraying him with a huge wave of water. Jack was about to scream with frustration…when it happened again.

A gigantic lifted pickup truck with Virginia plates had drove by, Sean Stemaly blaring from the speakers, and splashed him with water yet again! To his surprise, the truck’s brake lights came on as it pulled to a halt. Jack was angry and determined to give this hick a piece of his mind. When the Southener climbed out of the cab, he quickly thought better of it. The man was massive, a heavily bearded behemoth of a man, broad-shouldered, and easily 7 feet tall. Jack gulped nervously, but couldn’t help bring turned on by man’s size and sexiness. The man’s deep voice thundered down at Jack.

“Hey there lil Yankee! I’m sorry about that! You need a lift someplace?”

Jack had always been wary of strangers, -living in a big city of rude Yankees will do that to you-, but decided that the man seemed genuine enough, and he only lived a few blocks away.

“Uh, sure.”

“Hop on in!”

The huge cowboy opened a cab door and let the lil Yankee climb up into the truck. To his amusement, he had to help throw the Yankee up, but he climbed in with zero effort.

Jack was relieved to feel the hot air in the truck, and the warmth of the seats. The truck smelled like leather (the seats and the drivers boots), oil (self-explanatory), beer (there were Rebel Brew cans scattered around the floorboards) and musk (again, self-explanatory) and the hot air made it all intense and musky, but since had been shivering a few moments ago, he was happy to be in the warmth of the massive pickup. Over the seemingly earth-shaking speakers blaring bro country, the driver asked.

“Where to lil guy?”

Jack strained to make himself heard, but he gave his address, and asked the drivers name.

“Names Thomas. What’s yer’s, lil feller?”

“Jack.”

The massive Southerner turned down the radio.

“You alright lil feller? You seem…sad. If ya don’t mind my saying so.”

“I AM sad! I lost my job. And Bob broke up with me…stupid cheating bastard!”

Thomas didn’t respond. He approached Jack’s apartment, but then abruptly pulled off into a parking lot and parked.

“Alright lil Yankee…you need a hug.”

“No. Just take me home.”

“Look, yer upset, your still wet and cold, and ya just need a hug…”

He leaned over and embraced Jack, the immense Virginia titan’s body enveloping Jack warmly.

“Don’t need no puny Yankee. You need a real man.”

Jack faintly nodded, enveloped in the warmth and musk of the huge Southerner. It felt so nice and warm and cozy. Thomas smirked.

“Yer mine now Yankee boi.”

Before Jack could do much as question anything, the warmth and musk emanating from Thomas increased. His face pressed against Thomas’s chest, he saw a faint and quickly intensifying light coming from under Thomas’s shirt. A Confederate flag tattoo was glowing brightly, and Jake struggled to escape the huge Southerners grip. But within moments, he started to feel strange. Like he was getting…thinner?

Jack tried to escape, but Thomas had a firm grasp, and there was no escaping his mighty muscles. Jack felt oddly itchy all over his body, and to his confusion, Thomas seemed to be getting bigger! His arms and legs started to shrink in on themselves. The Yankee tried to scream, but nothing came out, his mouth now somehow full of hair! No, wait, everything was covered in hair!

There was a flash of red and white and blue light that filled the cab, and the world turned upside down. Jack wasn’t in Thomas’s arms anymore. He was now a beard hair on Thomas’s chin!

“Told ya you were mine Yankee boi. Your my beard slave now. Get to worshippin yer new God boi. No more cold and rain, no more worries, just worshippin me.”

He smirked and grabbed a Rebel Brew from a cooler. The ice cold beer was gulped down quickly as Thomas turned the radio back up, and soon he proudly rumbled out a massive BBBUUURRRRPPP! Jack was blasted by the thunderous wave of beer gas, and would have gagged if he had a mouth. Yet, despite the intense smell and the huge shockwave…something about it felt…good?!?

—

See the full post

66 notes - Posted January 8, 2022

#4

I’m a dumb yankee whose gotten bored with life. Any chance I can submit for a godly southern master like Jared Padalecki? Becoming his boxers or socks and being forced to absorb every scent, ounce of sweat, or even piss he decides to grace me with? I would do anything to submit to him

The wind whistled across the Texas plains, kicking up dust as you walked along the road, using your arms to try to shelter yourself from the storm. This had been the bad day to end all days. You had been fired while you weren’t even at the office (you had messed up an important meeting in Texas, in spectacular fashion, involving a cup of scalding hot coffee splashing across the conference organizers face and sending him to the hospital for burns, among other things), your boyfriend had dumped you over the phone, your car keys were apparently refusing the unlock the car door, and now you discovered your hotel room key was sitting in the car (and there was a parking ticket tucked under the windshield wiper).

Unwilling to risk making anything worse by breaking into the rental car (which would cost you money you no longer had), you decided to trudge back to your hotel. Who knows, maybe you’d get hit by a car and this miserable day would finally come to an end?

Headlights penetrated the darkness and dust and a long car pulled up. A handsome stranger rolled down a window.

“Y’all need a lift?”

Despite your morbid thoughts, you had to admit that getting out of this dust storm would be great. You nodded and hopped in. Within a few seconds, you recognized who your mysterious savior was; the towering 6’4 stud was Jared Padalecki, the hunky TV star from Supernatural. This was surprising! You could scarcely find the words to explain your predicament, your tongue was so tied up in the presence of the stud. When you had finished explaining, Jared chuckled.

“Well shit, that’s a bad day alright! C’mon, I’ll give ya a bed for the night.”

You sat in grateful and awed silence for the rest of the ride, noting that Jared was covered in sweat, his musk enveloping the interior of the car. You breathed in as deeply as you dared try without being too obvious.

Arriving at Jared’s mansion, your mind boggling at the wealth of the Southern stud, the two of you entered. Without warning, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside, striding across the room to grab a beer.

“Hope you don’t me gettin comfortable. You can crash on that couch there.”

You stared in awe, at his magnificent chest, the musk wafting off of him like smoke from a fire. It was strangely intoxicating, more potent than anything you’d ever smelled before.

“Heh, ya like my tattoo?”

You blushed as you realized he had caught you staring.

“Uh, um, ah, yes, yes sir…”

Jared smiled and approached you, setting his beer down.

“It’s alright lil Yankee. You can be honest with me. I know ya like me. You don’t know what to do with yourself, being around a real man like me, do ya? Like my sweaty musk? How’s about you go straight to the source?”

You meekly nodded, and watched in mute awe as Jared pulled off his pants and boxers and revealed an immense cock, bigger than even you had ever envisioned. He approached you, and with a single casual push, shoved you down to your knees before him. You were about to try to suck him off when he grabbed your head from behind and shoved it into his sweaty, musky bush.

Immediately your nose was overloaded with his godly musk. It was intoxicating, more than any alcohol ever could be, and you were surrounded by it in this sweaty mass of pubic hair. Within seconds, things started to change. At first your face felt kinda weird, as though it was stretching. Then, your arms and legs both went limp and numb, uselessly hanging there. They began to slowly but surely slim down, retracting in on themselves. By now you were almost literally drunk on Jared’s godly musk, feeling pleasantly numb across your whole body, so you barely felt as you body continued to slowly dwindle, and then stretch.

Your body kept stretching and stretching wrapping around Jared’s immense cock, huge sweaty balls, and beefy ass, soaking up more and more sweat. The heat radiating from Jared’s body was like that of the warm Southern Sun, shining into you, the heat and musk rendering you weak and obedient. You were so drunk on his godly sweat and musk, you almost didn’t notice when you lost the ability to move. You started to panic then, but shortly thereafter you lost the ability to speak, and see. You were lost in a foggy musky haze of musk and heat, and you could barely hear Jared’s voice booming like thunder from far above as he reached for his shirt.

“Heh, knew you’d like that! Your gonna be a damn good pair of underwear, lil Yankee…”

-

It took less then 24 hours for you to be completely broken. Jared’s intense godly musk, heat, and your previously existing lust for him combined, and within 13 hours, you had been broken down into a nearly mindless slave. Even while he was sleeping, you had been fanatically soaking up all the musk and stink you possibly could, breathing in and absorbing every beer fart, and descending further into obsession and servitude. A few days later, at a scheduled event, Jared very briefly showed you off to the crowd, who cheered. You didn’t care, you hardly even noticed. You had your new god and master to serve, obediently soaking up any musk or sweat or farts, and that’s all you needed in life.

See the full post

92 notes - Posted May 23, 2022

#3

So I got this asshole coworker from Connecticut, super like “Hamptons” you know? Always complaining about how much I smell when I walk into work. He don’t know how hot it gets down here. Maybe he could come to like it, and want it.

“You know, there’s this great new stuff they call deodorant. I don’t know if you have anything better than a country store where you live, but you should try it!”

This was the latest in a series of insults from Greg, your Connecticut coworker. The snobby transfer from up north wasn’t even an actual worker like you, he had the fancy title of “Safety Regulations Compliance Officer”…which translated to a lot of wandering around with a giant water bottle or staying inside and filling out paperwork instead of actually working under the hot Southern sun. Finally, after several weeks of insults and disgusted looks, you decided to put a stop to it.

Greg usually finished work pretty early, way before the rest of you. So you slipped out to wait as he left the construction site. You had a plan, and had already stripped off your shirt. You’d parked your truck next to Greg’s sedan, and just leaned against the truck, waiting.

“What are you doing? Don’t you still have work to do?”

“I’ll get to it in a minute. Takin a break.”

“In the parking lot? Whatever, it’s your job on the line, not mine. Just put a damn shirt on before going back to work! Big stinking walking safety hazard…”

Greg walked past you, wrinkling his nose as he smelled your sweaty stench. As he unlocked his car, you wrapped your huge arms around him and pinned him against your truck. Ignoring his screams, you quickly raised an armpit and shoved his face inside, the full brunt of your manly, musky, sweaty, Southern stink assaulting his delicate nose. His screams were muffled by your mighty muscles and armpit, but you smirked.

“Do I still smell bad? Guess I need to try some of that fancy deodorant you talked about. Fuck nah, this is what a real man smells like after a hard days work, you stupid Yankee fuck! You best get used to it…”

With a smirk, your eyes briefly flashed red, white, and blue, and then the changes began. Greg’s thin body began to grow even thinner, and shorter. His legs began to dangle off the ground, his body seemingly suspended from your mighty armpit like a fish on a line. His clothes vanished, and he began to shrink, slowly at first, but then faster and faster and faster. Soon, you were like a gargantuan god to him, his body now barely an inch long. With a grin and an earth-rumbling chuckle, you finished the job.

Greg’s body began to grow even thinner, narrowing as his arms fused to his torso, his legs fused together, and his head began to seemingly melt into your sweaty armpit. His screams instantly subsided, only to resume inside your mind. Greg was now just a pathetic little pit hair, a pit slave forever forced to breathe in and be surrounded by your musk and sweat. Because his terrified screams will now becoming annoying, you boomed.

“Shut the fuck up Yankee! You better learn to love my manly smells, cause you ain’t ever leavin my pit. Course, if yer good, maybe I’ll make ya into an ass hair or something like that. Now, gotta get back to work, like ya said…”

You smirked as he continued to panic, begging you to turn him back, apologizing, doing or saying whatever he thought would turn him back, but you just grinned, put your shirt and safety vest back on, and strode back into work, enjoying your new pit hair.

Hope ya like it!

98 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

#2

I'm 19 and i currently live in Illinois, I consider myself more of a city person and prefer cold weather however growing up i moved around a lot but consider South Carolina my home state.

Can i be considered worthy of southernization?

You stared at the wine glass suspiciously. Was this a trick? The waiter hadn’t carded you, and delivered it without a word, simply saying it was a Southern Vineyards scuppernong wine.

You tentatively took a sip, and found it sweet, nice. You took another sip, and felt very warm, a warmth that was more intense than any alcohol could ever cause. Your body felt warm, and as you took another sip, you felt the heat grow more intense, heating up, making you sweat. But it wasn’t coming from outside, it was emanating from within you, the warmth of the hot Southern Sun filling you, seeping into all the cracks, filling the sinews of your muscles and the marrow of your bones. Your bones popped and snapped as they stretched taller, become stronger to handle your newly muscled but beefy frame. Your muscles swell and expand, a nice layer of beef forming over them too, getting you up to a solid 200 pounds of muscle and beef. Your jaw itches furiously as a nice beard develops.

As your body changes, so did your mind. You became older, having already went to college, going to USC for business, and joining a frat, dominating Yankees. Memories of moving around? No, why would ever move? You were a big ole South Carolina boy. Those were memories of business trips, going around and buying out struggling Yankee companies and installing your Southern frat bros from Alpha Alpha Alpha as the bosses, producing Southern products like beer, bullets, and boots instead of green juice, organic smoothies, and high heels.

Your Yankee employees are paid barely enough to survive, while Southerners get paid tons, especially your frat bros. After all, business (like life) is meant to be a pyramid: Southern studs at the top, puny Yankees at the bottom. You’ll show up at a business and declare that your buying it out effective immediately. There will be no option to leave, and everyone will be taking pay cuts so you can extract more money from the undeserving Yankees. If the owners resist…well, you still have your TF powers (in fact, they’re probably stronger now, since every Southern stud can do basic TFs), and you’ve made good use of them. That whole outfit is made up of TFed Yankees who refused your generous offers: their companies and all their money in exchange for letting them remain human. They obviously didn’t believe you, until you had turned them into your ties, shirts hugging your beefy chest, pants tight against your strong ass, socks and dress shoes on your big feet, watches, belts, everything a strong Southern gentleman like you needs for success.

You paid the check and strode out to your car, ready to go initiate another hostile takeover. You almost hoped the owner tried to resist: you could use a new watch.

Hope you liked it! Figured I’d preserve the city boy stuff by making you into a Southern gentleman business stud. Haven’t done many Southern gentleman TFs, hope it turned out good!

162 notes - Posted August 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Guided Meditation

As you returned home from work, a package waited for you outside your apartment door. It was addressed to you, but there was no return address listed. 

You opened it and were surprised to find an old-fashioned tape recorder and a pair of headphones, a brochure for some guided meditation thing. 

Curious, you decided to try it. You found meditation calming, and a guided meditation experience sounded potentially interesting. You slipped on the headphones and pressed play. 

“Welcome to Guided Meditation. I will be your guide through this guided meditation experience, Dr. William Greyson.”

The man’s voice was calm and quiet, possessing a refined Southern accent, the quiet dignity of a gentleman. It was soothing to listen to. He continued. 

“Close your eyes and attempt to clear your mind. Remove any distracting thoughts. Politics, sports, pre-conceived notions. Take a deep breath in. Count to 5. 1…2…3…4…5. Exhale. Good.”

You took a few deep breaths, counted to five, and exhaled, trying not to think about politics or sports or anything else, to clear your mind, as you did with all meditation. The smooth voice continued. 

“Picture a pristine, babbling creek, full of fish, winding its way through the forest. Hear the soft babbling of the water, the sounds of birds around you. You are fishing in the stream. Feel the rod in your big, strong, calloused hands. Feel the cool air against your tough, sun-burnt skin, hardened from years of hard work on the farm. Your hairs stand on end from the cool wind, your skin prickling. Remain in this calming space for a few moments, listening to the water and feeling the cool wind on your skin.” 

For a few moments, you could swear you felt a cool breeze rush over you and hear water rushing nearby. Not the sound of waves crashing against the hot beaches of Oahu, but water like in a creek or a stream. Must be the power of suggestion, you thought. 

“Now, let us transition to another scene. It is fall, and as the leaves are falling, you are getting busier. Busy hunting and of course, playing football. Feel the adrenaline pumping through your body, the sweat after a hard-won game. Feel the energy coursing through your veins, through your big, strong muscles, solid and strong like white titanium. Feel the heat radiating from your body, the sweat and musk wafting from you. Feel your size 16 cleats crunching through fallen leaves, feel the sweat drying on your body. Smell the smoke of a bonfire, taste the ice-cold beer on your lips before you rumble out a burp.”

This was getting…weirder, you thought. Adrenaline and heat, energy? This was supposed to be meditation, not pumping you up! And what kind of a meditation tape would ever talk about beers and burps and bonfires? Maybe you should stop listening, you think, before a hot warmth swells up inside you. You felt sweaty, but you did have a hard day at work, and it was hot, like always. 

“Feel the pride welling up inside you. The pride from winning a game, winning a game against a weak team from up north, showing them Southern power and strength. Utterly dominating them, as you should. Feel your mighty muscles. Your huge boulder biceps, mighty pecs, your hard abs. This is the power within and without. It is your power. You are strong. You are mighty. You are powerful. Feel your white titanium muscles slowly swelling up bigger and bigger, getting stronger as you embrace your heritage.”

You had no idea what was going on at this point, and tried to reach for the headphones, only to feel the warmth inside you abruptly move, to your pecs. Your pecs began to grow and swell, swelling out into mighty slabs of muscle. Your abs became chiseled like thick cobblestones of muscle. You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, and it felt so good. It burned, but it was a good kind of burning, like a purifying flame. 

“Feel your arms and legs growing. Your cock becoming worthy of you, rather than the old, inferior you.” 

The heat shot out in several directions. Your asks and legs began to burn; you could feel muscles swelling up from nothing, being molded by the heat like clay being fired in a kiln, hardening into strong mounds of muscle, huge biceps, triceps, calves. As the heat spread to your cock, you nearly doubled over with pleasure as you felt your balls balloon in size, your cock growing, becoming a long, thick cock worthy of a man of your size. 

“You may feel disoriented as you adjust to your new reality. Feel your skin burn as you become a true Southerner, a Son of Dixie. Cast aside your old identify and be born anew."

You were finally able to open your eyes and felt an intense itching all over your body. You looked down in awe and horror at your new muscles. They were so big and strong, but slowly seeping across your body was a wave of white, almost like oil seeping across your body, climbing like kudzu vines up a trellis. Wherever it passed, your skin itched furiously for a moment before becoming pure white titanium, unblemished and nothing like the darker tone over what was left of your body. You frantically tried rubbing it off, and tried reaching up for the headphones, only for a wave of confusion to wash over you. Why were you trying to take off the headphones? This was helping you become a new, better you, a bigger you, a stronger you. 

"The process of acquiring new memories may be confusing, disorienting, traumatic. You are a proudly Southern country boy, you have always been a proudly Southern boy. You are a big, strong, cocky football player. You have always been a football player. Let go, give in, give up, surrender to who you are now." 

You shook your head vigorously, looking down at your body. Why had you ever thought you were Asian? Fuck that, you were a country boy through and through. Nah, the only thing Asian about you was the fried rice and egg rolls you ate at that cheap Chinese place on the corner. You and your team members had once eaten literally everything in the restaurant, forcing them to close early. After all, big muscles like yours needed big fuel. You were a big strong country boy, Will Hayes, a player for the Nocturne City Rebels. 

"Feel your memories slipping away. Do not be afraid, they are the remnants of your past life being erased so you may start anew, so you may be reborn. You will be a Southern country boy through and through, with no memory of your past life."

You had strange memories. Memories of someone else...someone who you thought was you. An Asian boy, living in Hawaii. Milestones of his life flashed by; a birthday party on the beach, learning to swim in the salty Pacific, his first car, attending a Harry Potter screening with friends. But these brief flickers faded quickly, like embers in a dying fire, struggling to survive. You shook your head, new old memories flooding in. You were born to a small family in rural Virginia, outside Nocturne City. You spent your childhood hunting, fishing, helping dad out on the farm. You had never left the continent, let alone been to Hawaii. You remembered the first time you shot a deer, your father proudly helping you mount it on the wall where it remained to this day. You remembered getting your truck, a big, lifted Ford that had speakers that could shake the ground when you blared Dierks Bentley and Florida Georgia Line. You remembered your first football game, the rush you felt when your team won against the pathetic little team from up north. 

"Now, clear your mind of any lingering elements of your old self. Interests, hobbies, all need to be destroyed that you may be born anew as a Son of Dixie."

Despite your country upbringing, you had weird tastes. A fondness for Harry Potter, Magic The Gathering, and musicals. All that needed to be erased. Within seconds, your knowledge of Magic cards and spells was replaced by a hard-won knowledge of how to fish and hunt. Your encyclopedic knowledge of lyrics from the songs of Wicked was replaced with knowing how to change a tire, fix an engine, and fix a leak. Your love of fictional British wizards was replaced with a love of all things football. Your favorite movies were now the Southern Avengers movies; you even had a framed poster for the original Captain Confederate on your bedroom wall. 

"Good. Now, there are just one more thing left to do. I assure you; it will come quite naturally to you. Explore your new body, and then jerk off. Purge yourself of your remaining impurities."

You looked down. Your work clothes were incredibly tight, unable to handle your new size, and looking comically undersized on your mighty body. Absolutely nothing remained of your previous appearance, aside from the clothes. You ran a hand through your scruffy facial hair, feeling the short brown hairs tickling your fingers. You felt your bulging biceps, flexing and feeling your immense muscles bulge with every flex. The sleeve of your work shirt tore, unable to handle your new biceps flexing. Your hands ran down, rubbing your huge pecs, massive slabs of beef topping your chest. You ran your hands down your abs, like rock hard bricks of white marble. Your hands found their way down to your immense cock; eight inches soft. You reached down and felt your balls, churning up seed. Normally you'd be fucking or being sucked off by a weak Yankee, or having sex with your boyfriend, Ryan, but you needed release now. You stroked your mighty country boy cock, and felt it harden. You slowly began to stroke it, feeling your cock quickly harden in response to your touch. As you stroked, more memories came to you. You remembered meeting Ryan in high school, the two of you falling in love on the football team; you were a running back, he was a tight end. You remembered your first time dominating a Yankee; making some weak Yankee nerd lick your cleats clean, get you beers, and suck you off. You stroked harder, cock lengthening to a ten-inch monster of country boy meat. 

"Purge yourself of what remains."

The voice was accompanied by the intense heat returning, concentrated in your cock and balls, and you groaned, stroking faster. Whatever this was, it felt incredible. You moaned loudly as you came, all traces of your previous existence being blasted out along with your load of thick salty cum. Your underwear and pants were soaked, and so was your chest and work shirt. This didn't last long through. The heat shot up to over your heart, and began to burn, more intensely than it had before. You nearly doubled over in pain and pleasure, as a battle flag tattoo formed over your heart. As you saw it forming, an intense wave of pride came over you. You were proud to be gay, proud to be Southern, proud of being a real man, proud of where you were from, and eager to show off your superiority to puny Yankees. You closed your eyes for a moment, reflecting. When you opened them, you looked down. Your work clothes were gone, replaced by a tank top and a pair of jeans, a pair of boots on your feet, which had grown to a solid size 16. A ball cap rested on your head. Despite the chill of the Virginia winter outside, you felt fine wearing just a wifebeater. You were no longer in Hawaii, you were at home in Virginia, about to go meet up with Ryan for a date; burgers, beers, and dominating a pair of Yankees he had caught. You grinned and took a pic before heading out to your truck. 

This was a commission for @dumbmusclehypnojockboy Thank you again for being one of my first ever commissions!

200 notes - Posted December 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[fitzrove]

1, 5, 15 for musical asks!

Thank you so much for asking!!!

1. What is your current favourite musical, and is it different from what it was at the end of last year?

Ahhhh it's so hard to pick :D I think objectively (how insane the themes make me and have made me for a long time) it's probably TdV, but right now (3:28 am on December 28th) it's LOTR because I've been listening to it on loop for like 2 weeks ajsjfjhk. Like it's kinda flawed but I love the music so much and it's giving me major nostalgic feels. Last December I think it was Elisabeth (or maybe TdV tbh, that one's hard to displace) but I think Elisabeth is maybe my 3rd favourite now so there's not a huge change :D

5. Did you see any live musicals this year? What did you think of them?

Yess, I saw a whole bunch of them!! Highlights include Rebecca (Vienna), Cabaret (Finland), Evita (Germany), Wicked (London) & Les Mis (London). I really liked Cabaret and Evita (both were staged in innovative ways), had fun and appreciated the casts at Wicked and Rebecca (both were staged in uninnovative ways XD) (ahdhgjgj half joking), but Les Mis kinda sucked (I couldn't see anything because I had a cheap balcony seat and a guy with a big head sat in front of me) ajdjgj. But the cast there was amazing so it's not like it was a complete waste!!!

In total I must've seen like 20+ pieces of live theatre ahsjjf, but some of it I can't reveal here because I'm not open online about where I'm living in Germany. I'm really hyped to be living there, though, because good and speedy train connections are making next year seem very very promising!!!

15. Infodump to me about a musical!

Oooh idk which one... :D Maybe something I haven't talked about on this blog a lot before but I really enjoy: The Lord of the Rings (2006/2007/2023)!!

I first listened to this one in like 2017, because I liked the books/movies and discovered that it existed. Mostly I played Lothlorien on loop because it's an amazing song and there's an actual proshot video of it on youtube and Laura Michelle Kelly as Galadriel is really sparkly and pretty. Then I listened to the rest of the album and the music is just great all over!!! It's done by AR Rahman (composer, multi-instrumentalist, winner of a million awards for film soundtracks mostly in Indian cinema), Värttinä (Finnish folk band - most famously creators of Ievan polkka) and Christopher Nightingale (don't know much about him ahdhf). The Finnish folk influence is especially audible in the songs of the elves, they have real ancient cattle call vibes sometimes (in a good way xD). But my favourite songs are actually the more story-based and cinematic ones that I'm drawn to attribute to Rahman, as well as the soaring instrumental sections. So I would rank my fave songs (yes, all of them are favourites):

Lothlórien

The Road Goes On

Now and For Always

Wonder

The Cat and the Moon

Star of Earendil

The Final Battle

The Song of Hope

That's most of the main songs actually ahdhfgjgk.

The show is flawed, like I mentioned before; for someone who doesn't know the story from the LOTR books or movies it would get confusing pretty quickly, and because of the size of the cast it's hard to get insight into many of them in such a limited timespan (Boromir and the elves other than Arwen and Galadriel fall especially flat). But I love the music soooo much and I'm so excited that it was produced again in 2023, and in such a cozy and compact way too (it was done in a 200-seat theatre with an actor-musician cast as a semi-immersive production). The London cast recording is on Spotify, everyone should listen to it!

[peninkwrites]

A Patchwork Powder Keg - Ch 4 of 14

Ponk and Eret have a sleepover.

[CW: mentions abuse]

crossposted to ao3

Ch 1

Ch 3

Ch 5

Mafia AU masterpost

~ Ponk ~

Ponk can’t sleep.  The guest room of Eret’s mansion– one of six guest rooms– is so big.  It’s about the size of the main room of their apartment.  The bed is massive and cozy and painfully empty.  They miss Sam’s snoring.

They aren’t in as much physical pain.  The medication they got at the hospital dulls the ache of cracked ribs, their arm bound in a cast stops it from twinging.

Ponk wants to go home.

They want to go back to their creaky old bed, they want Fran to sneak her way onto the bed between them, to wake up crowded almost to the floor by a faceful of fur, for Sam to reach his big arm around his dog and his boyfriend in one go.

It’s a bad idea.

Not bad enough.

They could do it.  They’re a ten minute walk from home and they don’t have a key anymore but they could knock.  And Sam would let them in.  Surely he’d let them in and surely he’d apologize.  Ponk gets up, treading lightly toward the grand entryway to the house, down a corridor, down some steps, the halls are lit by the occasional sharp white nightlight.  It must be distinct enough for Eret to see them and make out where the walls are in the dark, but it does make Ponk squint as they head down the staircase, broad and grandiose, beautiful polished oak railings.  They go to the coat room off the entryway and grab their shoes.

They’re not going to think about it, they’re just going to go, damn the consequences.  They want to see Sam and shouldn’t that be reason enough?

Ponk sits down on a bench along the wall and puts down their shoes.  They stop.

They can’t tie their shoes with a broken arm.

“Fuck…” Ponk sighs.  They don’t consider themselves to be one to cry easily, not like Sam did, getting weepy and emotional over a sappy movie or getting glassy eyed as often as he got flustered when Ponk called him handsome, but it remains hard to fend off the weight of grief on their chest, and that draws up sobs whether they want it to or not.

They cannot go home to Sam, because their Sammy won’t be there.  He might as well be dead.

Maybe it’s better this way.  They don’t know this, what would have been waiting for them at home, but if they went back to the apartment tonight, to find Sam beaten bloody, they would stay by his side in a heartbeat.  It’s hard enough to stay away as is, if that happened, Ponk would have stayed.  Sam probably would let them.  And then maybe they would’ve been fine, together and okay.  Sam was not naturally inclined to violence, there’s every chance he would never hit them again, they could have kept living with him.  Maybe not totally forgiving, but they would think that scolding Sam for breaking their arm would be enough and Sam would think the same.  Ponk needs to stay away.

“Ponk..?”

Ponk jumps, two white eyes stare at them from the dark, gleaming from the light filtering through the stained glass panes in the front door.

“E-Eret– Fuck, you scared me,” Ponk’s hand goes over their heart, it racing immediately.

“Sorry, Ponk.  I should’ve announced myself like you all do, I forget sometimes you all aren’t aware of me either,” Eret says.  She has her cane, a navy silk dressing gown leaves her far too elegant and composed considering she just got out of bed.  She isn’t wearing her glasses.  “How are you?”  She doesn’t ask are you alright? because she knows what the answer will be, so she asks for whatever they may want to give.

“I don’t know,” Ponk’s voice sounds strained.

“Okay,” Eret comes closer, sitting beside them.  “That’s alright.”

A pause.  Ponk just stares at their shoes.

“You’re sitting in the entryway.  Did you want to leave?”  Eret asks.  Ponk doesn’t reply so she continues.  “It’s alright if you do.  I could ask HBomb to drive you.”

“Why?”

“...why?”

“Why would you let me go back there?” Ponk’s voice tremors despite their best efforts.

Eret continues to face out into the empty hall, thinking carefully.  Ponk isn’t used to seeing her eyes, the way her eyebrows scrunch when she worries.  “I wouldn’t… it’s not about let.  If you want to go, Ponk.  It’s your choice to make.  And if you wanted to leave again, we’d be there in a heartbeat.  I wasn’t even sure if you were planning on going back to… to your old apartment, you could’ve been going somewhere else.  That’s your business.”

“I shouldn’t go back.”

“Yeah.  I mean, I wouldn’t want that for you, I’d prefer if I knew you were safe, but it’s not my call to make,” Eret shrugs.

Ponk knows they’ve been over this, but it still stings, the thought that Eret thinks Sam is unsafe and she would be right to.

“I mean, I was going to.  I was planning on going there, not thinking about it or anything, but…” Ponk doesn’t know why this of all things is what hurts them right now.  It should be insignificant.

“But what?” Eret asks.

“Can’t tie my shoes.”

“What?”

“I can’t– I can’t tie my shoes with one arm.  I don’t think, at least.  So.  I didn’t put them on.  And… and now I can’t go back home to Sam.  And that’s a good thing,” Ponk says bitterly.

There’s a long pause.  “...right.”  Eret doesn’t seem to know what to say.  “I… I don’t want you to take this as just pity, because it’s not.  But I’m really sorry, Ponk.  You deserve…” She pauses, each word weighted and meant, “so much more kindness than what you’ve been given.”

Ponk swallows thickly.  They don’t want to cry again.  They’ve done that enough.  “T-Thanks,” they know they sound choked up, but it’s the best they can manage.  "I won't go.  And not just 'cause of the shoes.  But..."  They feel as if the past 48 hours has lasted ten years.  "I actually don't know if I'll be able to sleep.  I want to sleep, it's just..."  They're exhausted.  They don't have a good answer to give.  "It's just hard."

“When I can’t sleep, I usually put on a record.  That helps me,” Eret offers.

“Yeah!  Yeah, I have my records, actually.  That’s– Yeah, that’d be perfect,” Ponk is grateful for a distraction.

“If you do want to talk about it, of course–”

“No, no this is fine.  I’m… I’m a little tired of it all, y’know?” Ponk stands, Eret following.  She moves through her house with far more confidence.  One of the only rules at Eret’s many parties is no moving the furniture.

“Yeah… yeah, that’s fair.  I was gonna say, if we’re going to do this properly, I guarantee there’s ice cream in the kitchen,” Eret goes down the hall to their equivalence of a library.

“Do this properly..?” Ponk is puzzled for a moment, before it catches up to them, not quite bitter, a gentler sort of ache.  “Oh.  Ice cream.  Break up recovery type shit.”

“Couldn’t hurt?” Eret enters the study, Ponk just behind her, turning on the light.

“Holy shit,” Ponk lets out a low whistle at the walls covered in shelves of records.

“I know it’s quite the collection,” Eret almost seems embarrassed by it.

“Yeah… I mean, how d’you remember what you have?” Ponk asks.

“Memory?  And I mean, they’re labeled.  It’s not hard to just…” Eret brushes a hand along the shelf, where Ponk can see the ridges of braille labels.  “You should go get yours, though.  You pick.”

“I’m mostly just impressed with what you have,” Ponk says.  “And… do you have anything… stronger than ice cream?”

Eret smiles.  “You know who you’re talking to, right?”  She works her way over to the wood paneling over the record player, feeling its surface, until with a soft clunk the panel unlocks and reveals a few glass bottles.

“You’re fancy as shit, Eret.”

“Thank you?”

They make quite the pair, Ponk struggling to open the bottle with one hand, Eret more adept at holding the neck of the bottle so she can feel it’s over the edge of the glass, but they end up okay.  Ponk doesn’t put on one of their own records.  There’s too many memories there, but they take their pick out of Eret’s collection.

“What is this, Ponk?” Eret turns the bottle toward them.

Ponk squints at the label.  “Twenty year old sherry.”

Eret hums, satisfied, leaning back against the sofa.  “Perfect.”

Ponk sits across from them, sinking down in their armchair, drinking wearily.  They glance over at her, slowly becoming accustomed to her intense white eyes.  “So, I was thinking of taking a few days off at the museum.”

“Obviously,” Eret says.  “Take all the time you need, Ponk.  We’ll manage.”

Ponk laughs, “yeah, Foolish can cover for me.”

Eret smiles.  “He’s getting better.  Not like our business is life or death, it’s alright if he screws up a bit.  If you wanted higher stakes, should’ve stuck with being a doctor.”

“Nah, museums are much more interesting,” Ponk says.

“And useful for, say, moving unusual packages?” Eret says innocently.

Ponk still doesn’t know how to deal with her being so blasé about it.  “Uh– Yep, that too.”

“Don’t worry so much, Ponk.  It keeps things interesting,” Eret says contentedly.

"How did you... how'd you find out about that, actually?" Ponk asks.  They were careful, on paper there would be no trail of their actions, and the actual things they were dealing in were kept securely in crates down in storage, them having almost a proper warehouse of room in the sub-basement of the building, making it easy to keep their own wares tucked between boxes holding everything from paintings to mummies loaned or given to the museum.  Ponk did their dealings away from the museum, saying they had to meet with some benefactor or another, disappearing only for an hour or so and never falling behind on their actual museum duties.

"Hm.  Maybe I just know things," Eret says mysteriously.

"Come on, do I need to pull the pity card for you to tell me?" Ponk says with an exaggerated sigh.

Eret smirks.  "How about this, I had my suspicions, and then Foolish asked me what the glass bottles downstairs were for.  He thought maybe it was for an art installation or something.   And that, along with other... let's say little nagging suspicions, I had a feeling," she shrugs.

"And you were just cool with that?  Me keeping illegal shit in the basement of your museum?" Ponk asks.

"I didn't see the harm.  I didn't open a museum to become a law abiding retired art snob," Eret scoffs.

Ponk hesitates.  “I dunno if I… I mean, I’ve thought about asking this and I haven’t, because, well, I dunno if I should, but, if you’re… if you’re blind, what–”

“–What made me want to run a museum?  Where things that cannot be touched are put on display for people to look at?”  Eret shrugs.  “Maybe I’m just fond of irony.”

Ponk laughs.  The sherry is making things easier.

Eret smiles, seeming proud.  “Although, I’m not fully blind, you know.  My favorite works, they’re the big ones.  The massive, abstract canvas taking up a whole room, because everyone who can see, even just a little, just sees a blur of colors.  Not the same, sure, but together enough.”

“I actually didn’t know you weren’t fully blind,” is the only thing Ponk can think to say.

“Well, enough that it’s pretty much useless for anything practical,” Eret shrugs.  “I like fireworks.  I can see the lights and colors.”

“Me too,” Ponk still feels like there’s a weight pressing on their chest, but it’s gotten lighter.  This isn’t home to them, and they don’t think it will be, but it’s somewhere safe to land, and it’s good company.  “Thank you, Eret.”

“Of course,” she nods amicably.

They settle in, growing drowsier as the record plays out.  Until Ponk spots a figure in the doorway.

“Jesus– Fuck–” Ponk jolts to their feet, almost knocking over their glass.

“Ponk?!  What is it?” Eret bolts up.

“There’s someone–” Ponk stammers.

Eret has her gun again.

“Why the fuck do you still have that on you?!” Ponk says, more startled by her than the intruder for a moment.

“Ponk, chill out.  It’s just me,” a familiar voice speaks from the corridor.

“Purpled?!” Ponk turns back to face him, relieved and bewildered.

“So you know this person?” Eret asks cautiously.

“Yeah– Yeah, he’s a friend.  Who breaks into houses,” Ponk says almost scoldingly in Purpled’s direction.

Purpled shrugs.  “I don’t break in, I get in.”

Eret eases up, lowering her revolver.

“A-And Eret, you just– You’re at home why do you have a gun?!” Ponk asks.

“Well, after that little run in at the hospital, I thought better safe than sorry,” Eret says aloofly.  “I’m not usually this paranoid, but apparently I was right to be.  Why the fuck are you in my house?” She says sharply in Purpled’s direction.

“Uh, sorry?  I guess?” Purpled says without an ounce of genuine remorse.  “I needed to check on Ponk.”

“You… you heard,” Ponk collapses back in their chair, weary.  “How did you hear?”

“Punz.  They wanted me to check on you,” Purpled scuffs his feet on the carpet, one glance at Eret’s pale eyes, and he lowers the purple bandana from his face.  “And I have some stuff for you.”  He rummages through his pockets before offering a messy fold of cash.

Ponk stares at it, unmoving.  “...what?”

“It’s yours,” Purpled nods, offering it more insistently.

“Purpled…” Ponk’s voice goes weak.  “Please tell me you didn’t.  Sam– For the love of god, tell me you didn’t–”

“I didn’t kill him,” Purpled scoffs.  “You told those Badlands people you wanted him alive.  So.  But I thought he owed you.”  Purpled waves the cash at them again, clearly not giving up until they take it.  “I will kill him, though.  If you want.”

“No.  I definitely don’t want that,” Ponk says sharply.  They hesitate for another moment before accepting the cash.  “I guess I should say thank you.  For you… doing this.”

“Couldn’t hurt.”

Ponk does feel grateful in some way, just knowing that their friend had gone out to do something for them, unprompted and unrepentant.  They’re also grateful that somehow it had gotten back to him that they wanted Sam alive.  Ponk isn’t even sure why they want him alive.

“Are you gonna tell me how the hell you got inside my house?!” Eret gestures irritably in Purpled’s direction.

Purpled stares at her.  “...Nope.”  He turns around and begins to leave.

“That’s it?” Ponk follows him to the hallway.  “You’re just leaving?”

Purpled pauses.  “Yeah.  It’s late.  I’m not gonna stick around for drinks, not that I think the King wants me to.  And my job here is done.”  He hesitates, clearly debating something.  "Schlatt is dead."

Ponk cannot process.  They feel like they just skipped a step.  "...what?"

"He's dead.  I can't give you details, me saying this at all is breaking my usual code of client confidentiality, but... well.  It's probably gonna turn up in the papers in a couple days anyway," Purpled says grimly.  "Just thought you might want to know that."

"Right," Ponk feels almost dizzy.

He gives them one last nod, gaze lingering on their arm in a sling with a cold resentment.  “Take care, Ponk.”

"Wait–" Ponk says sharply.  "Wait– When did he... when did he die?"

Purpled is silent for a time.  He shouldn't give away anything more, but if anyone has the right to know, Purpled thinks it should be Ponk.  "Last night."

"Last night," Ponk says hoarsely.

"I can't be more specific than that," Purpled sighs.  He's not good at this sympathy stuff.  "I'm sorry, Ponk.  I'll see you around."

“Yeah.  Bye.” Ponk doesn’t know what else to say.  Purpled is good at disappearing, he turns around the corner and will probably exit the house without a trace.  Ponk remains frozen in the hallway.

Ponk reenters the room where Eret remains on the couch.  They sit down heavily back in their seat, eyes glazed as they stare fixedly at nothing.

“So, someone just broke into my house, gave you something, and left.  Did I get that right?” Eret says wearily.

“Yeah.  Uh.  Sorry about that,” Ponk doesn’t know what else to say.  None of this is right.  They hadn't realized this could get worse for them, and somehow it had.

Eret shrugs.  “Better than the alternative.  I was half expecting someone to show up with far worse intentions."  Eret waits for them to reply.  They don't.  "...Ponk?  Are you okay?"

"No, no I'm not okay.  Why the hell would I be okay right now?!" Ponk can't help but snap.

"Did your friend upset you?" Eret says with a hint of warning, like she has half a mind to go running after Purpled.

"No, I mean yeah, but it's–" Ponk almost wants to scream.

Schlatt died the same night Ponk had gotten caught.  They had gotten caught earning protection from a man who might have already been dead.  It's like their grief is growing bigger inside of their chest, filling them up with this awful, helpless fury.  It's not fucking fair.   Their life, their love, all ruined for protection from a corpse.

"Everything I've done, all of this bullshit– It was for nothing," Ponk's voice still trembles and they wish it was just from anger.

"What?"

"What got me in trouble with Sam last night– I did it because–" Ponk feels like this isn't something they should be confessing.  How much do they really trust Eret?  Considering the last hours, how much can they really trust anyone?  "Fuck– I was– I did some things, I didn't- I didn't hurt anyone, alright?  But I did some things to... to protect Sam.  And–" Ponk is too tense.  It's hurting their arm and their ribs.  Eret looks grave, waiting with rapt attention for them to continue.  "It... It didn't matter.  Okay?  And– And it fucking hurts that I got my life destroyed, everything went to shit for literally nothing."

Eret isn't sure how to reply.  Ponk clearly is holding back and that's their business, but she doesn't know how to help with something like this.  She thinks it over carefully.  "You didn't get your life destroyed, Ponk.  Whether it's destroyed or not– I won't pretend it doesn't feel like everything's burning down around you, I don't think that's what you need right now, but... you didn't destroy it.  You are not responsible for Sam's actions."

Ponk doesn't understand her.  "But... okay, so I'm basically telling you Sam had reason to arrest me, and... you think he shouldn't have?" Ponk isn't debating that for themself.  Sam went too far, he refused to listen, and he's a hypocrite.

"Fuck no," Eret looks disgusted.  "He loved playing the benevolent cop, didn't he?  But he's just a violent dog like the rest of them."

"Yeah," Ponk is getting more and more tired.  "Guess he is."  Ponk can't help but think of the harm they had done to Sam over these past months.  A very different sort of harm, a quieter harm, but they are why Sam has been broken down by his job for months, they are why the police station went from managing to falling apart.  They almost destroyed Sam's career.  And at the time, the ends had justified the means because it's not like Sam could have a career if he's dead.  And now it turns out if they had just waited it out, Schlatt would've stopped being a problem the exact same night Ponk had finally gotten protection from him.  They don't want to feel guilty anymore.  They'd felt guilty when there had been an attainable goal, and it's all the harder to fend off knowing there was no point to any of it.  They find that big empty bed far more tempting now.  "I think I'm gonna... I'm gonna go to bed."

"Yeah, I am also getting very tired," Eret sighs.  "But Ponk, if you need anything, you come and find me, okay?"

"Right, I dunno if I want to come knocking on your door in the night when you're armed," Ponk tries to sound teasing, lighter like Schlatt's death still doesn't sit like a brick pressing on their chest.  “You should put your gun in a safe,” they say pointedly.

She smiles, giving them a sarcastic salute.  “With the company we keep?  Not a chance.”