#just glad the one i care about has what i feel are the Correct takes

[zeppelinlvr]

Dating Dean Winchester

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Notes: I just wanted to post some head cannons since I don’t have any fic ideas rn. Also thank you guys for all the support, i can’t even begin to express my gratitude, i’m so glad you guys like my work! 💗💗

Warnings: Fluffy, some cursing

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

- Protective like no other, if you join him on a hunt he makes sure you stay close and is throwing punches the second anything gets near you

- Dean has trouble saying he loves you but he shows it through his actions and taking care of you.

- Takes him a while to let you get close but when he does you’re his whole world, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you or to protect you.

- Loves loves loves taking you out to eat, he always wants to try new foods and restaurants with you, both of you overeating and cuddling while watching a movie until the stomach ache goes away.

- Sam helps you plan surprises for Dean on your anniversary or his birthday

- Opens up to you about wanting a family (Dean is such a girl dad ugh)

- Lots of teasing and playful banter, if you mix words up or say something dumb he’s sure to let you know he heard it.

- Petty arguments over things that definitely don’t need to be argued about

“Dean where are my shoes”

“probably by the door” he said without looking up at you

“i’m standing by the door dumbass” you told him

“i didn’t take them” he responded flatly

“yes you did” you shot back

“why would i take your shoes?”

- Arguments end when one of you finally laughs or you just kiss and make up.

- Both of you asking Sam to take your side in an argument

- Going to bars and laughing at everything after too many drinks

- He LOVES kissing the back and top of your head.

- Def holds the back of your head when you hug him.

- Tries his hardest to make you feel better when you’re upset, he lets you talk through it and tries to make you laugh. He’s not good at helping people with their emotions but he tries his hardest for you.

- Getting a cat with him and he acts like he hates it but you catch him cuddling it and letting it sit on his lap.

- Says he hates the cat even though he babies it big time.

- Calls you a dork but he loves how smart and educated you are in certain areas.

- Singing together in the car and making dumb faces at each other.

- Talking with him about music and gifting him cassettes that you pick up at thrift stores and music shops on the road.

- He let you drive the impala one time and was sweating and twitching the whole time. (no hate to you he just loves his car), he prefers to drive you around.

- Defends you in public, corrects you in private!!

- Telling him everything that comes to your mind and he lets you yap because he’s secretly interested in your leg pain, the people you saw at the gas station and what new perfume you want to buy.

- Will laugh at something for an hour with you even though it’s definitely not funny anymore.

- Feel like he likes Johnny Cash and old country so you make him a mixtape of old country songs.

- He rolls his eyes at your complements but you see the smile playing at his face.

- Calls you sweetheart, sweet cheeks, doll, sweet girl, pretty much anything he can add sweet in front of.

- Both of you eat up the themed motels, trying to find the most ridiculous ones you can.

- Even though you guys bicker and you get on his nerves Dean would do anything for you, he’d literally go to hell and back to keep you safe.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

[charliemwrites]

Part 6 of Charmed Slasher Simon!

Simon really ought to teach you not to look at him like that. Those big watery eyes and pouty lips make his teeth feel too sharp for his own mouth. He wants to sink them into you, find out if you taste as sweet as you look. He knows you would, knows it like he knows the slick heat of fresh viscera.

“What.” he demands, voice hard to keep the rasp of dark desire from it.

“I have a little favor to ask.”

He arches an eyebrow, does not believe you. Not when you’re looking at him so beseechingly. He’ll have to get you to make that face again, maybe when he’s got you on your knees, asking to suck his cock.

“Go on.”

You seem ridiculously, foolishly charmed by this stoic, unimpressed front he puts on for you. A little beam of sunshine refracting off of a black mirror. Wonders sometimes what cruel maker built you so unintentionally self-destructive.

“There’s this work trip coming up…”

He has to cross his arms to keep himself from snatching you up and locking you in the bedroom. Mistaking the gesture, you hurry to continue.

“And I have to go, but! We’re allowed to bring plus ones.”

Satisfaction curls warm in his gut, a purring predator cat. He wants to hear you ask, though.

“I’m not hearing the favor.”

“Riley….” you complain, face adorably embarrassed.

“I’m waiting, luv.”

You damn near stomp your little foot at him. “Will you please come as my plus one?”

He arches his eyebrows. “That’s a big ask.”

You could ask for the stars and moon and he’d make them bleed for you. Paint the sky crimson and make a necklace of the heavens to collar you in.

“I know and I understand if you don’t want to - but… but that coworker you met, Brandon? He’s going too, and he’s been looking at me weird all week. Please, Ri? I-I don’t want to go by myself and you make me feel safe.”

Oh it was a sure thing that he’d be going with you, but now there’s no question. He’s so glad for the video cameras; he going to milk himself dry tonight listening to you say please like that. Admitting that he makes you feel safe. His poor, stupid, fragile thing. It’s a good thing he found you.

“Alright, alright,” he soothes. “No waterworks now. I’ll go with you.”

Like a switch, you light up and throw yourself into his chest.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you trill. “I’ll make it up to you somehow, I promise.”

He snorts. You’ve done him the favor by giving him an excuse to follow you - but he’s not about to correct you.

“You let me worry about that. Just send me the details and I’ll be there.”

—

Your job has rented out a ski lodge for this little trip. Not only is it secluded, the booking is for the middle of the week. There will be few, if any, people over than instructors and your coworkers.

He couldn’t plan it better.

The day is spent pretending to care about your coworkers’ names and babysitting you along the slopes. You nearly crack your head open twice, each time he scoops you up, frowning down at your giggly face.

You also nail him in the head with a snowball too. That. That’s he’s going to get revenge for.

When night falls, you squeeze his hand at the door to your room. He leans his palm against the door over your head, relishes in the way you fluster as you tilt your head to look at him.

“Thank you for coming, Riley,” you murmurs. “You’ve made this really fun.”

He lets himself smile at you, just a bit. Knows it’s lopsided and probably a little too sharp, should raise alarm bells in your pretty little head, but you only smile back at him.

“Mm, you’ll have to make it up to me. Doin’ you this big favor ‘n all.”

You laugh. “Yeah? Let me know when you want your pound of flesh.”

Oh he’ll be taking more than a pound.

“Better be ready when I come to collect.”

“Ooh, so scary!” you tease, sticking your tongue out.

“You’ve no idea.”

—

A storm hits that night. A wicked, frigid thing that brews up and boils over in a matter of hours. Whiteout conditions. The power goes out a quarter past 11.

Well, you’ve had your fun. Now it’s time for Simon to have his.

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Masterlist

[jymwahuwu]

idk i like to think sunday is a firm believer of no sex before (cough forced) marriage. but when the vows are exchanged, the first kiss is celebrated, and the doors are closed… he’s more than ready to take you to poundtown.

he takes you in all the right angles and even in the most humiliating positions, and makes sure every hole of yours is satisfied and fulfilled.

he has an elegant smile that charms even nuns, but behind that seeming innocence and grace is a lustful sinner with a relentless libido he’s been patiently keeping away until now. he adores and coos at your dumb-looking face as you were being fucked dumb by him. what, “no more”? ah, he thinks you meant “please more” when your eyes involuntarily rolled back with your tongue lolled out. you look so happy and cute, a stark contrast to your ever so vicious, and wild nature when interacting with him.

he likes you this, so fulfilled without that savagery of yours to ruin it. he feels like he successfully domesticated a wild animal, and the only finishing touch is having your belly round with child… or children ;)

and if you ever complain or say those disgusting, sinful words against him, it’s okay. he’ll wash that filthy mouth of yours, over and over again until it’s only praise about him that’s dripping from your tongue.

tldr; sunday’s always been a freak but has hidden it all his life until he married you.

>_<🪭anon thank you for such a great story!! I love how Sunday changed after marriage. He hides his true nature and controls himself…

cw: yandere, dub-con, overstimulation, penetration, nipple stimulation, gag, spanking, reader has female reproductive system

Sunday believes in chastity before marriage and protecting chastity before eternal commitment. He does not indulge you in your desires. The body is a sacred temple and cannot be defiled.

And this not only means no sex before the wedding, it means you can't masturbate, read erotic novels, comics, watch pornographic movies, none of these are allowed. Before the engagement, Sunday showed appropriate care and closeness. After the engagement, you had just platonic dates, walking together, dining in restaurants, watching movies and playing games. Sunday likes to read some books with you and share opinions. He doesn't mind if you read books other than philosophy, even popular ones, but… there's only one category he doesn't like… He checks your browser and reading apps.

Switching accounts to browse pornographic novels/browsing pornographic websites will not work. You had done this sneakily, and after you were discovered, your hands were on the table, your underwear was on your calves, and the whip in your fiancé's hand was in close contact with your butt. Clearly, you violated his trust and indulged in lewdness.

Depending on your personality, you might scream and curse at him. Or you whimpered and repented. You emphasize that you will really correct yourself and beg for forgiveness. Both options without exception ended in a spanking. (He also tells you to bend over his lap and get spanked…it's important to bend over in humiliation first. Your butt is so sore it feels like it's burning.) After the punishment is over, Sunday rubs ointment and lotion into your butt. He puts you on his knees, wipes your tears and kisses your forehead.

It's for your own good, he insists. He derived no pleasure from it. You wisely chose not to point out his rising smile.

Wedding!! Sunday was months in preparation for the wedding. He and you exchanged vows and kissed each other. Robin even shed a few tears. She was deeply touched. She was glad that her brother had his happiness. When you get married, you think it's going to be a conservative life, like once a week, missionary position, that sort of thing.

But, no… it was completely unexpected, like you said, Sunday penetrated you at every right angle and humiliating position. He had never done it before but was a quick learner. He explores your sensitive areas and sweet spots, focusing on attacking and teasing those spots. The gloved fingers circled your areola, occasionally pinching and scraping gently. He pinched your raised nipples as if you were about to produce milk. His balls ravaged and slammed against your vulva, his elegant glans hitting your sensitive spots accurately, and his thick cylinders stretching your tight, layered flesh. Fill you with seeds not just once but several times a day. Long periods of abstinence can make you very sensitive to touch. Just caressing your breasts can bring new excitement and tremors to your body, not to mention creampie. You… squirted. When you get your first squirt, Sunday watches you curiously and the amazing amount of squirt. You look completely engaged and surrendered, muttering shakily, rolling your eyes, and spreading your legs.

"No - no more…"

Uh-huh, yes, and if you keep that mean attitude when you're in a relationship with him. The satisfaction this gives Sunday is indescribable. Watching the look in your eyes go from aggressive to melting into orgasm, screaming and begging for no more rounds. You didn't know that a man who had been abstinent before turned out to be like this… His load that had been accumulated for a long time was released inside you, flowing through and filling you up. His cock stayed inside you for a moment, until it was hard again and the thrust returned, slamming into your ass.

And wash your mouth haha, that's a little too hardcore(?) for me and that's just for being a mean and condescending reader. Sunday might not like a rough approach, so… maybe a gag? As long as you keep being mean and saying horrible shit, eventually your mouth will get gagged. All you could say was "mmm!!" and "eh", "wh…" and other unwritten sounds, and you glared at him. Regardless, eventually you'll learn how to compliment him properly and without any swear words. (If Sunday realizes your taunt, he will put the gag in your mouth again without hesitation.)

All in all, you discovered another side of Sunday after marriage. Maybe he is not an ascetic man. He knows how to control. He knows he wants you.

[bokettochild]

I cannot BELIEVE no one told me we had an update!!!!!

Anyways, here's my favorite bits as always, because I need to SCREAM about this one!

The rupee acquisition!

I love how JoJo included that traditional *item acquired* pose that all the Links do, and gave it a reason in the comic (Wind insisting he hold it up is just so fun)

Sky's comment though, "don't spend it all in one place". Isn't that a line you get in Skord when you acquire rupees? The cute little easter eggs here are so fun!

I also really love how Legend is taking an instructional role here, both with Wars and the champion!

While also letting his veteran show

and I love that the rest recognize that! Wild calling Legend "an expert" and actually listening to what he has to say, even if he doesn't agree with it.

I also super like the panels of Twilight's interaction with Legend here

Very eldest and middle sibling discussing the youngest child, and I love it. It reminds us that, even for all the cuteness we got between them in the last arc, Twilight still sees Legend as too rough around the edges, enough that it borders on bullying when it comes to some of the rest, and he's trying to curb that. And Legend is LISTENING, because (as I've said a thousand times) Legend respects Twilight and values his opinion. Twilight is his big brother too now and Legend, while still being himself, genuinely seems to care about his opinion.

Twilight's just tense in general, although why, I think is mostly because of Time's sharp scolding in the last update. Even though he's snapping back at the younger ones, he's not very happy to be snapped at right now, and he's eager to get out from under Time's watchful eye.

Time and Warriors

Because while he feels e has grounds to correct Legend for telling Wild what to do, Warriors straight up subtly scolding his protege is different. And the difference is that Legend and Wild and Twi had camaraderie (see Dawn p.3), they're brothers, but Wars is approaching this as a commander, a captain, and Twi doesn't appreciate that. Warriors isn't their leader though, but he's taking that role anyways. (Old habits die hard, I'm sure)

I mean, we all knew Wars was going to confront Wild sooner or later, but I'm glad he was so calm about it. Twilight's ruffled feathers (fur) is more from Time being overbearing, I believe, so it aggravates any slight annoyance Warriors might present.

Even despite some of our suspicions earlier, I like this bit here. Wild was a soldier once, and the captain is very much the image of what he would have worked with before. JoJo mentioned wanting to play with that dynamic, with them bothering having military background, and I think this is that training (hundred years ago though it was) kicking in and making the champion defer to the man who outranks him (as far as they know). Granted, they all call Wars "Captain" but this felt pointed.

I do love Four acting as the word of wisdom here, advising Time, just like he does Twilight, as to the best way to handle a team. it's a reminder that he's done this before, and he knows how teamwork can be, but also that sometimes you need space and working together means working in different areas.

Anyways, here's a couple bonus things that make me happy!

Bunny stance!

(shh, I know he's making a point by stepping on Wild's toes, let me have this)

Wars being so freaking pretty! Dear Hylia help me! (Is it wrong I understand Cia a bit now?)

Wind being the youngest sibling who is Done With Your Chatter

A competent boy being competent (and not as experienced as Ledge, but pretty darn close (if you've played both their games you know))

Showing off items! (I can hear the little ✨da nana na✨)

And of course, I love Time being a tired, overprotective parent (he looks like my mom here, good grief!)

[cupcaketeddybehr]

taking care of you in the hospital (pt. 1/?)

featuring: geto and nanami!! if you'd like a part 2/other characters, please let me know!! im very very happy to grant requests :)

for anyone who has a request/just wants to chat, my ask box is open!! (please please please please send me requests)

Suguru

suguru rakes his hands through your hair as you lean against the cold porcelain tub at the hospital. “i’m sorry, sweetheart” he says for the millionth time as he combs through the millionth knot.

you close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of your boyfriend playing with your hair, “it doesn’t hurt, sugu”

he hums, “tell me if it does”

you nod, hearing the pump of the shampoo bottle and feeling his long fingers massage your scalp.

you peek one eye open to look at the brand of the hospital shampoo bottle. for some reason, it feels so much more expensive than a hospital amenity. it’s at the opposite end of the tub, pump locked and untouched. you’re sure you can see the plastic wrapping still around it.

suguru laughs, knowing exactly what you’re looking at, “i brought the shampoo you like from home, sweetheart. you can’t have those gross parabens and sulfates in your hair.”

you giggle, “you’re funny, sugu”

you hear his lips form a smile, “i’m glad you think so, baby.”

after conditioning your hair and washing your body gently, suguru plugs in the blow dryer.

“we can just wait for it to air-dry” you suggest.

“it’s almost eleven, baby, you need to sleep.” he turns on the blow dryer and adds, “you can’t sleep with wet hair, you’ll get sick.” he waves it around his hand a bit, making sure it’s on the correct power level. “also, i’m gonna use the cold setting so it doesn’t cause damage”

“okay”

he parts your hair carefully, blow drying every little section. when he’s done, he separates the top part of your hair into three parts. “what do you want, sweetheart? dutch or french?”

“french, please”

“you got it” he replies, crossing the strands over each other as he makes his way down to your neck. he ties off the braid with a pink ribbon and drains the hot water from the tub. he picks you up, lifts you on the bed, and begins rummaging through your pajama drawer. “how about this one?”

after you nod, he gently puts the shirt over your head.

“sugu, i can dress myself”

he shakes his head.

“i really can, baby, it’s okay.”

after he gets the shirt over your head and arms, he pulls it down, refusing to meet your eyes. “i feel helpless” he mumbles, “there’s nothing i can do to help besides this”

you stroke his cheek, “you’re helping me more than you know.”

he smiles, but it’s not really there. he’s more worried than anything. “just let me know whatever you need, and i’ll get it for you, okay?”

“okay” you say as he tucks you into bed. he walks around, making sure that all corners are ninety degrees and that theres zero chance of the blanket falling off. he takes a seat in the chair beside you and plays with a strand of hair that’s escaped from your braid.

“are you hungry? thirsty? do you want anything?”

you shake your head, “all i need is right here.”

he smiles, squeezing your hand.

you reach up, untie his long black hair from the bun it was in, and rake your hands through it. “lay your head here” you say, patting your stomach.

when he does, you massage his head and play with the tips of his hair.

“i love you, y/n”

“i love you too, sugu”

Nanami

nanami has slept in a chair next to your hospital bed every night since you were admitted. he always combs through your hair as you close your eyes, softly humming the tune of your favorite song. he never fails to come right after work, sometimes bringing your favorite pastry with him. today was no different.

“hi honey!” he greets, walking through the door with a brown paper bag and coffee cup in his hands. he set them down on the table next to you. “i got you dinner and some tea to help you sleep”

you smile and thank him, “ken, you don’t need to do this every day… but thank you”

he shakes his head, “hospital food is disgusting”

you reach your arms out to hug him as he bends down to meet you halfway. you notice that he hasn’t even gotten the chance to change out of his work clothes, his button down shirt and tie pressing up against your chin.

“are you going back to work?”

“of course not darling, i brought my pajamas” he says as he rummages through his work bag for his glasses and clothes.

you frown, feeling guilty that he’s spending his nights in a clorox-smelling, un-homey hospital room. “you should sleep at home” you mumble, even though you don’t really want him to.

he pauses and turns to look at you, “whatever you go through we go through together”

“i feel bad”

“you would do the same thing for me, would you not?”

“i would” you sigh.

he nods, “exactly. now hold up your phone so i can take my contacts off” he says.

after washing his hands, he uses your phone as a mirror to pull his contacts off of his eyes. he replaces them with his glasses, which you love. you think he looks more relaxed this way.

he leans down so you can unbutton his shirt. before you were admitted into the hospital, you did this every night. having continued this routine in the hospital too, you appreciate how he’s done his best to keep most things in your life normal.

eventually, he’s out of his work clothes and in his grey shirt and long flannel pants. he shuffles around the hospital room in his slippers, getting you a fork and spoon to eat your pasta and soup.

he sits down in the chair next to you and spoon feeds you the meal he brought. while you chew, he tells you about his day.

“darling, they’ve been trying to get me to work overtime, isn’t that ridiculous?”

you pause, mid-bite, looking at him with wide eyes.

he laughs, “of course i said no, you’re in the hospital. i just can’t believe the higher-ups could be that inconsiderate.”

“do you think they’ll be nice enough for you to take a week off for when we go to malaysia?”

“if they don’t let me, i’ll quit” he says as he feeds you another spoon of soup.

“wait-ken, did you eat?”

nanami nods, “i ate before i got here”

“next time you should save your food so we can eat together!”

he smiles, “okay, my love. i was just eating before so i could give you my full attention”

you shake your head vigorously as you look down at your hands, “honestly, sometimes i feel guilty because you spend all your time looking after me… if we ate together i think that would help me feel like less of a burden.”

nanami looks at you, concerned, “honey… you’ll never be a burden to me. i meant what i said before, we do everything together, okay? you’re never alone. i promise” he takes a moment to brush back your hair, “but if that would help, i’ll start bringing my food”

you look at him, tears starting to well, “okay, thanks honey”

he feeds you the last spoon as he kisses your forehead, “of course, my love”

soon, you start to doze off. as usual, nanami’s head rests on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing yours as you both drift away into sleepyland.

thank you so much to @saradika-graphics for the beautiful dividers and support banners 🫶

and thank YOU so much for reading! i appreciate you!

[honoura]

Shaaloani: The Land of Enchantment Part Two

Hello again! First of all thank you so much for your responses to these posts -- I've really enjoyed reading your reblogs. I'm glad folks are enjoying this!

As I mentioned in the first post -- here is the second half! It's covers the plants and animals I thought worth special distinction. By that I mean animals that communicate how much research was done regarding this zone. So no rroneek, no uxtena. It's pretty clear they are both meant to be buffalo and rattlesnakes.

And if you're somebody who hadn't caught that, um... surprise! That's what they're based on.

If you're somehow getting this post without reading or seeing Part One first, here is a link to Part One. I'd recommend giving it a read first.

With that taken care of, let's pick up where we left off before!

Shaaloani Flora

Aside from the cacti, there are a lot of plants I recognize as native to the regions discussed in Part One! First is this scrubby, short and wide tree. It took a few screenshots and a lot of scrutiny. I was torn for a bit thinking it was a creosote bush, but upon zooming in close I'm of the mind it's a redberry juniper tree instead!

The leaves are long and thing, and the shape gives to mind of juniper needles more. Juniper 'leaves' kind of scale over each other and between texture resolution and my horrible eye sight I can't tell if this does the same. Still! There's a photo below my two screenshots for further emphasis:

These are also the trees turned red near the ceruleum fields -- junipers tend to do that when they are dying. They are also incredibly hardy so typically when you've managed to kill one it's likely not good.

I will say when I was out here I noticed the botanist gathering log has mesquite beans on it -- and you harvest them from these trees! Which is too silly for me; so here's a link to the the wiki about honey mesquite, and a photo of the beans on a tree.

It's probably a reach to try and ID this grass in the Yawtanane Grasslands, but given that it caught my eye I felt inclined to make a pitch. For context child me thought a fun and engaging after school club project was to learn how to identify grass and other plants native to Texas. So when I looked at it I wanted to take a guess based on other regional clues:

To me I think it could be cane bluestem, a grass that's drought tolerant and popular for grazing animals. And its seeds are dispersed from these little fluffy heads like this.

I will say as a caveat that a lot of grass in this area can be dispersed by wind. So it might not be cane bluestem -- hell it's a stretch to even try this. But I like to think they also considered the grass.

The bush above I also hmmed and hrmmed about for a bit before positing if it was meant to be black persimmon. It's commonly called Texas persimmon or Mexican persimmon -- and it's found in Coahuila, Tamaulipas and Neuvo León. They generally just look like big shrubs instead of trees.

I mentioned this in part one, but I'll go ahead and reiterate here a few things:

One is I think Lake Taori's about the only place that reads as specifically Texas

Two is it's not a bayou. That's an East Texas ecosystem and way too wet for Shaaloani

Three is there are cypress trees west of San Antonio growing along the Frio river, and doing quite well! Garner State Park has quite a few of them

I stand by this because these trees are show to be reproducing by making 'knees' -- offshoots from their root system. Think of it like Pando.

I also feel cypress is correct; the trunks are wider at the base than higher up, and the leaves are the right shape. I also appreciate there's Spanish moss hanging from them, which is also pretty common.

The last plant I want to cover is this flowering bush -- I'm going to admit this one was a struggle because I don't know of a lot of bushes with large white flowers like this. I've seen flowers of this shape, but most tend to be ground cover plants that grow very low to the soil.

What I think it might be, which would feel appropriate, is a take on the datura. They can get a bit higher off the ground than most wildflowers. And they were used by several native tribes for cultural practices.

The flowers are bigger in real life than depicted here -- so this is a reach! If someone has a better suggestion I'm open to it.

Shaaloani Fauna

When Fate farming out here, I've seen several players comment like 'huh, there sure are a lot of dinosaurs on this map'. And you're right! Because a lot of this region is home to some incredibly rich fossil formations.

Big Bend National Park contains part of the Javelina Formation -- home to large creatures such as the Quetzalcoatlus, a pterosaur that boasted a 39 foot wingspan. You can read about fossils found in Big Bend here. The Javelina Formation has its own wiki article that details some of the specimens found within it, including the Bravoceratops and the Torosaurus. The Ojo Alamo Formation in New Mexico is home to the Ojoceratops. Just south of these is the Aguja Formation in the Mexican states of Coahuila and Chihuahua. These formations are home to fossils of all three types of scalekin above -- as well as alligators, who are also on this map!

Other Formations in the Southwest home to great fossil finds are:

Kayenta Formation (Colorado & Utah)

Tepetate Formation (Mexico)

Black Peaks Formation (Texas)

There's even a fun sightseeing lore blurb which acknowledges this!

I think this is a fun addition to the zone that strengthens the real world inspiration sources and have fun with world building -- a lot of the formations near the Permian Basin were along the shore or under the waves of the Permian Sea!

And that's all I have! Thank you all for indulging me, and by all means take any and all of this to do with what you will in roleplay. Have fun with it!

[leclercstars]

ROCKSTAR. [pt.4]

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando invites you to his hotel room after your text exchange. Warnings: 18+ SMUTTYY!! Cursing, unprotected sex, dom!Lando, daddy kink etc.

hope y’all loved this series 🙈

“Ughhhh,” you groaned as the light shone through the curtains in your hotel room. Somehow even after your late-night shower, your mascara did not come off. You looked like the poster child of “partied too hard last night,” with your hair looking more like a lion’s mane and clothes half on. In your hungover daze, you rolled over and saw the slew of text message notifications on your phone. Two stood out, “Attachment: 1 image” and “thanks!” from a number that appeared to be Lando’s. You typed in your passcode and clicked on the texts.

“Holy fuck!” you exclaimed, hurling your phone across the bed. You stared with wide eyes at the phone- hands covering your mouth in shock. You tentatively reached for the phone again as if it was a cobra that was about to bite you or something. Yep, confirmed. Those are Lando’s abs splattered with cum. You were laughing, mostly because this whole situation still felt so unreal to you.

“Well good morning to you too!” you responded. It didn’t take long for those three dots to pop-up on your screen.

“Just come over tonight.” 

Well that’s fucking bold, you thought. But like- there was not a chance you would decline his invite. This is like having one-night stands with the annoying frat guys at school but 10x more justifiable. You were going to play it cool though, even though your skin was tingling with excitement.

“Time?” you replied. 

“10 works.”

Early as hell for a booty call, when is his bedtime? You laughed to yourself.

At 9:00 p.m., he texted you the address of the hotel he was staying at, and you slipped into the only Victoria’s Secret lingerie set you owned. Thank goodness you had impulse bought that for the man you were sleeping with last month who didn’t care if you were alive or dead.

There you were. Outside Lando Norris’ hotel room door.

“What the fuck am I doing,” you muttered to yourself before knocking.

He answered quickly, “Come in,” his voice already sounding sultry and thick. You had the feeling that as soon as you walked in, no time would be wasted. 

Boy, were you correct. He backed you up against the wall, and pinned your hands above your head. “Stuff like this okay?” his tone softened for just a moment. 

“More than,” you replied before planting kisses and bites all along his jawline. You didn’t even make it to his lips before his hand joined the dainty gold jewelry around your neck, pushing you back against the wall. His surprisingly soft lips slammed into yours, his tongue quickly finding its way down your throat. He stripped you down with such an ease that you could tell this was far from his first time around the track. He ripped the lingerie you were wearing off your body.

“Oh come on! That was hot but that was so expensive.” you laughed between the kisses.

“I’ll send you money for 4 new sets, don’t worry about it.” 

Oh that’s right- he’s like rich and is probably used to fucking ultra rich girls too. 

He picked you up and tossed you back down onto the bed- much nicer than yours over at the Hilton. Your neck looked like a vampire had gotten to it- covered in bites and bruises. Him signing your tits should have clued you in on his affinity for marking up his territory.

His fingers slipped into your pussy, and you tightened around him with a loud moan.

“Fuck I don’t think anyone has ever been this wet for me. Glad you like how daddy has been treating you.” Lando growled as he pumped in and out of you, making you more and more obedient with each curl of his index finger against your g-spot. 

He didn’t take himself out of you as his mouth made its way to your boobs.

“This is what I have been waiting for,” he said as he started circling your nipples with his tongue. Fuck- he is so good at teasing you. You squirmed desperately as he cupped your other boob in his hand. 

“Fuck Lando, come on just put your mouth on them.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that without you asking for it,” his eyes glimmering with specks of lust as he looked up at you with his face smushed between your tits. 

Wow, he looked so cute just right there, but you couldn’t wait much longer. 

“Please daddy, suck on my tits. I want it- you so bad.” you whined, giving him the “fuck me” eyes that you had perfected after plenty of experiences just like this one. Those other guys had not been quite so dominant, but it was actually kind of fun being able to let go of all control. His warm mouth meeting your excruciatingly hard nipples was a pleasure like no other. He closed his eyes as he switched between them, biting and sucking. All that dominance really seemed to leave his body as he moaned into your boobs- almost whimpering. You were thrilled that your tits had that affect on him. It felt like you were taming him as you ran your hand through his curls and he fully relaxed himself into your chest. Did it always feel this good when guys did this? You loudly moaned and that seemed to snap him out of whatever boob-induced trance he was in. Thank goodness it did, because you were about to orgasm from his nipple play alone.

He grabbed you by the neck again, and that alone made you whine as his strong fingers pressed on the back of your head.

“You ready to be a good girl for me?” he was staring down at you, his eyes dark and hazy. You could tell he was thinking about what he was going to do to you, how he was gonna treat you like this.

“Yes, daddy.” Before you could even punctuate your words with a whimper- he had thrusted his entire length inside you. You gasped and sat up as his massive cock hit the back of your tight walls. He wasted no time as he started to pound into you. He pressed his entire naked body onto yours- as you buried your head into the crook between his neck and shoulder that looked like it had been sculpted by Davinci. Your nails dug into his back- and he cried out pleasurably- you knew you had to be leaving marks.

You had never been fucked so hard in your life, and certainly not by someone who looked like this. His perfectly tanned skin glistened as he made your pussy his, every single muscle in his arms on display as he held himself up. 

He took one hand and started flicking and pinching your nipple- and that was enough to bring you right to the edge.

“Lan-Lando,” you were barely even able to speak- he had really created such a mess out of you with his attitude, the big dick might have helped too. 

An orgasm shot through your body as he twisted your nipple- white sparks appearing in the corners of your eyes as you gave yourself to the ecstasy of it all,

“I’m gonna cum in your mouth,” Lando groaned as he pulled out of you.

You stuck your tongue out as he slapped his cock on it. You gripped the base and he shoved himself into the back of your throat- making you gag. That was what did it for him- as his hot cum filled up your mouth. His orgasm face was unlike anything you had ever seen before. Contorted so perfectly with pleasure, it was an image you never wanted to forget.

He flopped down onto the bed- no longer the dom-daddy that was fucking you five minutes ago. He grinned up at you, still naked. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of his ass, still a little woozy from his cock.

“STOP LOOKING AT IT!” he yelled with mock rage. You spiraled into peals of laughter as he grabbed the sheets to cover himself up. He was laughing too, looking like such a fool with his makeshift toga. He sat back up on the pillows and gestured for you to join him. He pulled the covers up and you rested your head gently on his chest. 

“So should we like watch a movie or something? I think this TV has HBO on it.” He was smiling down at you.

You could stay in this spot for a while.

part 1 part 2 part 3

taglist: @eviethetheatrefreak @thewritingofspencerrose @formulaa-1 @supremebaddietrash @moonayu @aexitizen-ln4 @notturlover @maxv33rstappen @coco-bitch

[onelittlespiral]

Hey hi! I've heard you've got some kind of offer or sale going on, not too sure what its about but I'd like to buy your services. My best friend is a bit of ladiesman jock type and he keeps complaining he can't find a good relationship. So I wanted to know if you could maybe turn him into less ladiesman and more men's man, maybe daddying him up a bit? So i could maybe get a chance with him, and he'd get the relationship he wants.

Subject: Order #100714

Dear Dopple,

Thank you for your recent purchase from The Spiral, home for all your transformation needs! Your order #100714 has been received and is on its way as we speak. Your order includes:

(1) Daddy_From_Friend(Best;Jock)

(1) Mystery(Self)

Expect delivery in 3-5 days. Please note that joint delivery is expected.

Sincerely,

The Spiral

We knew you’d come around and round and round and round…

It was only a few days later when you heard another notification come through from The Spiral. At the same time, you hear a knock at the door. You were glad for the interruption. It was nice to head over to your friends’s apartment and hang out for the weekend. But if you had to listen to him complain again about how tough the dating market was for a white, straight, good looking guy like him you were going to scream. Glancing at the notification for a package delivery to this address, you realize that it is probably about time for the show to begin. No need to interrupt the process. You dart into the restroom as you hear him pick up the package. As you close the door, a rip is heard outside, and as you lock it, a faint poof is heard. A faint fog creeps under the door crack. It smells like fresh grass and sandalwood. Another notification comes through, as The Spiral provides you with product details:

Due to selected target changes, we have elected for our rapid delivery transformation system to best meet your needs. Upon receipt, subject will open box and full product delivery will commence. A dense cloud of product will be released directly onto target and rapidly absorbed. Your friend will age to around 35, with associated physical changes. His previously smooth, young body will change rapidly. Skin is expected to tan, hairline recede, muscles grow, and body and facial hair develop. As the product is breathed in, expect tastes to change. Your new friend will prefer whiskey and beer drinks, along with the occasional cigar. As mental changes set in, they will find themselves drawn to care and maintenance hobbies, like regular workouts, yard work, renovations, cars, and sports. He will be drawn to jeans and beat up tennis shoes or boots, and only prefer to wear a polo when they must go into the office. At the same time, his mind will be filled with images of men. Men staring at him. Men holding onto him. Men worshiping him. This will start the final change, a libido adjustment. He will feel a deep need to fuck, to control his partners, and leave his seed planted deep inside them. The added girth and heavy sack will ensure he never underperforms. As he adjusts and embraces his new personality, he will settle and seek a single partner to fulfill his needs.

Thank you again for choosing The Spiral

You finish reading and unlock the bathroom door, running from the upstairs bedroom through your friend’s spacious house to meet him on the porch.

He is standing on the porch, a box still in hand, just as described. You didn’t know he could be more handsome, but he has aged like a fine wine. He takes one look at you and simply holds out the package in his hand,

“It’s for you.”

For you? You check the label and he is correct. You grab the box and he crosses his arms, waiting. Unsure what is inside, you open the package.

“Ah, good. Been waiting for these,” he snatches it from your hands and inspects the well-worn frames. You try to turn away, but he catches you in his arms,

“This should make you behave.” He takes the sunglasses and sticks them on your face. In an instant, the world is dark. And then a pair of screens flicker to life. As spiral fills your vision, you try to take them off. But your friend is holding you tight. You can’t resist it’s allure for long. It’s right. You do feel so sleepy. As it counts down from ten, your body begins to sway and relax. But you can’t bring yourself to mind. The spiral knows best. You fade away, held in the warm embrace of release and the strong arms of a man…

You come to laying in a bed that feels familiar and foreign all at once. You scratch at your beard and inspect the scene. Lube is left open on the bedside table. Tank tops, jeans, and boxers are strewn over the floor. A pillow is still wedged under you. Heh, still got it. You wander downstairs as you stretch your muscles and rub some sore muscles from the night before. You find him in the kitchen preparing some eggs. Your love. Your master. Your beast in the sheets. You sneak up behind and wrap your arms around his waist.

“Stop, you’ll make me burn them.”

You don’t listen. You plant a kiss on his cheek. He turns around, spatula in hand, and smacks your ass.

“Act your age, boy.”

Something in that statement hits a trigger. You remember something. A younger body. Slender, taut, pale. A firmer mind. Less corruptible, less controlled. Then, you feel an arm around you.

“You okay, cuz you look faint. Don’t break a hip old man.”

You stare at your husband and the world comes into focus. He smirks and gives you a little growl, and you swoon a little in his arms,

“Give daddy a kiss,” he commands.

You lean forward, pressing your hairy chest against his, and love on your husbear.

“I’m going to finish these eggs. Go set the table and look cute,” he says with a wink. You walk off, dizzy for a new reason. You ignore the buzz in your pocket as you get ready for breakfast.

Subject: Order #100714 Fulfilled

Dear Dopple,

Your order has been fulfilled. We know you have many options, but thank you for supporting The Spiral.

Sincerely,

The Spiral

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.60)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Life changes come in many many forms; courting gifts, leaving jobs, and...Murder

Tags: Slow burn getting warmer, Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, Trans! Tae, Transphobia, gender thoughts, workplace discrimination, flashbacks, murder, the word 'r*pe' is used to describe what Geumjae did to her but there are no graphic depictions of it, allusions to physical abuse, graphic violence, there is a brief moment where someone not in the pack touches the m/c's ass without her consent, blood, briefly implied suicidal actions- but it's nothing like what you haven't seen before.

W/c: 12.6k

A/n: i'll be attending my cousin's wedding at the time this is posted so! give me lots of love when you read it cuz i'm so nervous~ i've never been around so many fancy people before <3

Previous part ~ Masterlist

You dab at the skin under your eyes carefully. You know they must look red and puffy. Tae’s careful instruction to treat your skin well as all good baby pups should has somehow stuck.

Even here. Even now.

“Do people like always loose it with you? Like when they walk in, do they all cry?”

Your therapist (yes, your therapist) across the narrow room is the opposite of threatening; soft face, pulled back hair, neutral clothing that might just as well be out of a country living catalog.

You don’t know where Jin found her, what little medical booklet he perused like a take-out menu, or how much her services cost per hour. Those kinds of details were not for delicate little pups like yourself to worry over in his opinion.

Most of the time, you're glad not to have to worry about things like this. But right now you're chomping at the bit. Weighting your odds. The other unknowns hover before you. One sticks out. One you're most concerned about.

Is she trustworthy?

Nothing about Dr. Rima seems outwardly threatening, yet you curl in on yourself. She smiles, scrawling something on the top of her notepad before she answers, and something taught in you ticks tighter.

“You’re correct in assuming that most people I meet cry in the first few minutes when they meet me, but you are the first person to cry on my threshold. Most of the time people wait until they’re at least in the chair.”

That has a smile tugging at your lips, albeit unwillingly. Your smile is like a leashed wild animal, with too many teeth when you feel threatened. Contained for now.

If you got up and walked out right now, would she call someone to restrain you? Will you be committed if you tell the truth? Or are you just misinterpreting the stakes?

You are here of your own volition. Even if it was a condition that Jin and Namjoon weren't willing to budge on after the events of last week. It's not like the pack is having you put in a mental institution or something, although they did come with you today. For moral support.

The waiting room was stuffy and yellow, one of those little waterfall mirrors in the corner that you’d watched in a fog sat between Yoongi and Jimin while Jin filled out the necessary paperwork. His pen hovering over the small boxes every few seconds. He'd taken the afternoon off of work to make sure he was there, just to fill out paperwork.

Are you on any medications? Do you have a history with substance abuse disorders? Do you have any intent to harm yourself or others?

Sending glares to anyone who dared to come too close, Jimin had looked and smelled threatening. You're not sure he’d have let you go into an isolated location with her if she’d been an alpha. Jin too had looked close to snapping.

yoongi was the only one who looked somewhat calm, althoug his hand was tightly laced with yours (and a little sweaty)

It’s a wonder that the rest of your pack had agreed to stay home for this. This was just one of several concessions you’d made after what the pack has politely begun referring to as 'sad pup time' during your more vulnerable moments, and blatantly 'your breakdown' during less fragile ones.

But sweet words or not. The facts remain; You are here in this chair after a nearly tearful departure.

You’d met the therapist in the doorway, shaking in your boots, and upon being separated from your pack with the promise that they’d be just downstairs in the lobby, you’d followed her inside.

Yoongi had made a noise in his throat, making you turn back. Dr.Rima turned to watch as he’d pulled you in for a last-minute hug, ducking down to your level. “One hour, okay? We’ll be just downstairs. Text me if you need me.”

His eyes were heavy-looking at the stranger. Unwilling to let you go just yet. A little stalwart, a little standoffish.

“Take good care of her please. She’s very precious to us.”

Precious.

That much was evident by the nearly three-page document that both your pack alpha and omega sent through once Namjoon and Jin had selected Dr. Rima as your therapist. Dr. Rima has quite a bit of experience dealing with overprotective pack alphas and pack omegas. Let alone a pack alpha and pack omega who have such a clinical background.

Yes, you must be well taken care of. At least on paper.

She’s already itching a little, to get her hands on all the others. Packmates and their names are written out, as a part of all intake files. Large packs aren't so common anymore. Her eyes fix on one name; Min Yoongi (beta, mate) unemployed.

The big windows help it feel not so small, on the second floor, the trees block out most of the view of the park below. A small voice that sounds like Hobi whispers that it’s a shame she doesn’t have any plants in here, they'd do so well with all of this natural light.

Your knees clack together a little, moving listlessly, the anxiety in your body begging to be released somewhere.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Why don’t we start with why you wanted to come in today.”

You avoid her eye contact, looking instead at the tops of the trees, you don’t know why they haven’t changed color yet, all of the trees on your street are half bare already. She has a smooth inoffensive scent, but you’re mated to a beta so you know what to expect when it comes to the relaxing effects, the subtle haze at the edge of your vision. It must come in handy, having the biological upper hand, when it comes to patients in distress.

If therapists are rare, beta therapists must be even rarer.

You can practically hear Jin, “Nothing but the best for my pup.” There is a part of your brain that won’t ever turn off, appraising everything around you. The designer pumps that she wears. The knickknacks on her desks, there are no photos of any packs that she might call her own, just a pink calendar in the corner.

Your breath goes just a little bit rapid, just a little, hitching when you think of it.

“Did Jin tell you anything?”

“He didn’t. Although my secretary did inform me that he filled out the paperwork for you.” The air in the therapist’s office is cold. Cold enough that it has you wrapping your sweater sleeves over your knuckles.

Your cheeks heat “My pack they- get a bit- protective.” Your fingers circle your wrist. You’re glad that Hobi convinced you to take one of his sweatshirts. He'd had a strange look on his face while he zipped it up, and you'd had to worry and wonder about it the whole morning. You'd worried more once he texted, just after he must have gotten to work.

“I have kind of a history of self-destructive behavior and I- I kind fell into bad habits a few days ago and blew up. It was all kind of triggered by this like- thing that happened with me and my other packmate.” It’s surprisingly easy to tell the truth.

You’re a right side better than you have been the last few weeks, now. A little bit more present, less foggy. The doctor just looks at her screen and not at you. What is it with her asking questions that make you not want to lie? Why does it feel like you should anyway?

Dr. Rima reads between the lines, what you're trying to say without saying it. “Is there a possibility of you hurting yourself again?” She clicks at the screen a little rapidly.

“No.”

The truth is you have no idea. It seems best to lie in this situation. But you consider it; one of your packmates making the call that you are too much to handle, that you need more help than they can offer. You imagine what it would be like to be in inpatient care. Grippy socks and group therapy and probably observed mealtimes. Maybe Iv's and feeding tubes if it came to that. Away from the pack and away from Yoongi.

He’s just downstairs, but that feels too far. There was no way that he was going to let you do this alone, you wouldn't be surprised if he never left the waiting room.

It’s just a therapy session. The very thing that you once refused. But now that you're here you might as well heal, you might as well work to stop this endless train of brief highs and endless lows. you'll give it a go, why not? What do you have to lose?

And yet, the texts from Hobi remain unanswered:

Ho-🐝 (9:48): Hey, I’m really proud of you.

Ho-🐝 (9:48): I’m really happy I get to be your packmate. In case you ever worry.

Ho-🐝 (9:49): And your best friend too &lt;3

Ho-🐝 (9:51): Just so you knowwww

The pack has kept you substantially plied with little solutions since your breakdown last week. They haven’t let you rot like usual. They’ve kept your days full of little activities; nothing too extravagant or tiring. Letting you rest when you need to and encouraging you to get outside of your comfort zone when it’s clear you’re giving in.

It comes down to that more often than not; giving in or not giving in.

Not giving in looks like trips back to the beach with Hobi. Like going to the salon with Tae and shopping with Jimin. Or another workout class with Jungkook where you’d spent more of the time lounging on the yoga mat than actually moving your body. But you'd still tenuously agreed to sign up for more classes under the encouragement of Wonho and Jungkook.

And now twice a week, you’ve got a mat to call your own during any classes, in the back, if you decide you want it. Your callender hasn't felt so full in years, it feels strange, to have something to do during the weeks that isn't just scraping the bottom of the barrel and doing house chores. Strange in a good way.

Not all of the pack's solutions aren’t silly but sometimes, silly is a good way to push out the dark.

The morning after your breakdown; you'd watched your pack work, fighting back a flush. Sitting at the kitchen bar stool while Yoongi applied painter’s tape to the floor, not intent on keeping back paint this time, but marking it off for you.

You’re a little bit more determined this morning although your first night without nightmares in a little over a month had kept you in higher spirits. You feel more well-rested than you have in ages.

“You don’t need to- I promise- I’m not going-“ but your requests had fallen on deaf ears. Worry building until Jungkook stood up fast grinning up at you, pupils wide brown pools from getting scented stupid this morning.

(Scented stupid, you'd been scented by the pack too, had struggled a little against it, too shy as Namjoon dragged his throat along yours, squirming until yoongi held you down a little, checking with you each few seconds that you wanted that, that your squirming was really just needing to feel a firm touch, a dominant one.

You will go nowhere until your pack have had their right to you, scenting you up, making your scent gland tender and swollen under their teeths and tongues.

It felt so much better to be made to handle it, each of the pack, even hobi, hovering over you to scent you with their wrists and throats. until you smelled so claimed by them that you couldn't breathe without smelling it- Pack.

Jungkook had pouted until he'd gotten the same treatment, although the omegaspace haze had lasted longer on him than it had on you.

He stands up so fast that his hair fluffs. Catching himself on your leg with a giggle before he topples over. grinning up at you before pressing a sleepy sloppy kiss to your knee and then another to your lips,

“No pup zone!" Omega Space Jungkook can get a little bit ridiculous even at the best of times. He's got a case of the morning omegaspace zoomies as he giggles and nips at your nose. You playfully push at his chest. He doesn't budge.

"Your whole face is a no-pup zone." The dissatisfied pur-chirp he'd let out had sounded half hurt, half encouraged.

Namjoon had eased your discomfort. Pulling you from the stool to lean back against his chest, fingers drumming out a rhythm on your legs as Jungkook huffes into your throat.

Having this failsafe- this rule, does not mean that they think you’re going to fail, these are guard rails to keep you on track. Namjoon looks down at you, his full bottom lip tucked a little, not a pout but close. “This is the easiest solution, if you don’t go near it then maybe, maybe it helps.”

His fingers drum against your skin again, and you lean back into him. Uneasy but willing to let him soothe you.

So yes, you’ve been banned from the kitchen, banned from crossing that line that runs from the edge of the coffee stand and just in front of Tae's library room, to the island and over to the fridge. Unless there is someone else close by. You are not allowed here without supervision.

It’s a simple solution, limiting you from the place that you use to hurt yourself. Never mind the fact that there are dozens if not hundreds of other possible avenues you could use. Your creativity knows no bounds when it comes to pain, but you quiet that part of yourself when the desire for hurt gets loud.

You can’t say it hasn’t helped. But then again, the pack has kept you so busy since your breakdown that you haven't had any time to think of hurting yourself let alone put any plans into action.

Across from you, Dr. Rima waits expectantly.

"It was kind of triggered by this thing that happened."

The tip of her pen bobs a little as she writes. “Could you describe the event to me? Or is that something you're not ready to talk about?" You nod and she waits patiently. It takes you a breath to answer.

“A little less than a month ago one of my packmates and I found a dead body."

You feel a little vindicated at her inhale of breath. Wide eyes that say yes- that is something traumatic, yes, it's fair that it kinda triggered you into a more fragile state.

"It dredged up a lot of feelings about my past. Before that, I was kind of starting to feel s-safe which I haven't like, ever been able to feel."

“And your packmate?"

There is new treacherous wetness balancing on your waterline. “Hobi’s a lot stronger than me, his past and mine are really similar but he just- handles his better. A lot of the time it feels like I learn from him even though he’d tell you the opposite is true. He’s my best friend." Your voice goes quiet, "I love my mate more than I love anyone else, but sometimes- Hobi just- gets me you know?" You go a little misty-eyed. Hands tightening on Hobi's sweatshirt.

“Yet he’s not the one sitting in my chair right now.”

You close your eyes, "he's not."

“For what it’s worth- you can have more than one best friend.” Dr. Rima writes as quickly as she can, taking it down. “How long have you been romantically involved with him? Who came first, your mate or him?”

You jolt forward, “Oh no- we’re not- Hobi and I aren't-" You take a deep breath to clarify. "Everyone else in the pack is together but Hobi and I are just friends. We all have our like… little units?”

"Primary partners." Dr. Rima offers.

"Yeah, that." But even that doesn't really cover it, because while Jin and Namjoon are JinandNamjoon and Jimin and Tae are JiminandTae. Jungkook is everyone's problem (in the best of ways) and you and Tae are something else too. The pack's girls the rest of them would say.

(You and Hobi are, well, YouandHobi.)

It sounds weird to say it once it comes out of your mouth. It makes an odd choked feeling lodge in your throat. Too much hope and too much shame for hoping blooming in your chest.

“I don’t know if I want to talk about him.”

She folds her hands over her knees, setting her pen down. Dr. Rima has chubby hands, disproportionate to her body. They look like they'd be soft.

She reminds you of your mom a little bit.

“That’s okay, we can talk about whatever you want. What you want and need is going to be the focus of our sessions. You’re the pilot here. I’m just here to help you interpret your thoughts and feelings.”

She folds her hands over themselves, setting her pen aside, “Why don’t we talk about the last time you remember feeling safe.”

"Physically or mentally?"

"Either, you can choose."

The rest of the session passes frightfully quickly. You can’t say that you don’t cry again. When you finally talk about Geumjae, her smile quickly dissipates. You talk and talk and talk until your throat is raw. Until you’ve depleted the whole box of her tissues. She shows you she's got more hidden under her desk when you apologize, her secret stash gets a laugh out of you.

“The fact that your pack omega filled out your paperwork isn’t the most unusual, but his preference for daily meetings or every other day is a little bit on the nose for a pack omega, I’m wondering if you share his preference.”

“He’s just overprotective.” She eyes you like Jin has good reason to be. You don’t blush this time, a little more comfortable with Dr. Rima than you were at the beginning of this. “I think maybe more than once a week but not every day.”

“How does Monday- Friday sound?”

~-~

When you walk to the door with Dr. Rima Yoongi stands abruptly from his chair.

You can tell by the shiny edge to his to his scent that he doesn't want to stay here any longer than necessary. He gets the information about your next appointment and then tugs you out the door.

Jins got his legs crossed, fancy leather shoes glinting in the sunlight by the windows. The lobby is buzzing with people coming and going. This building isn't just a therapy office but a collection of other businesses with a few shops and restaurants on the ground floor as well. He looks up and double-takes when he spots you, not standing from his chair, but he opens his arms and you fold yourself along his side, conscious of the other eyes but this.

This you need.

You press your face along the column of Jin's neck, breathing his cream scent in deep.

“Oh pup.”

Your red-rimmed eyes are too obvious and you sniffle wetly, “It was okay, I like Dr. Rima.” He laces your hands together and resists the urge to pester you with questions. Yoongi's hand is still tangled in the hood of your (Hobi's) sweatshirt. Your therapy sessions should be yours and only yours. Yoongi and Jin do not have Dr. patient confidentiality.

And yet the need to know if that helped burns through them. They won't have to wonder for long.

By the coffee stand, Jimin waves and he returns to you when the barista hands over a bag of sweets and a quad of cups. Jin continues scrawling something out for another second before he’s standing and pulling you in for another chaste scent mark.

“Let’s go home.” It's somewhere between an order and a request. But no one disobeys.

On the drive back (37 minutes total) you're a little quiet. You let the sounds of the others be your buffer. You look down at your phone and stare at Hobi’s texts. You respond with just a little heart emoji when you finally still can’t figure out a good response and you're close to home.

Home is its usual conflagration of moving bits and pieces. Each of your packmates is like a shiny cog in a pretty clock, tick tick tick tocking along. Tae and Namjoon are at the table looking through some of the pack’s bills, the pastries and coffee cups litter the table with little piles of powdered sugar and cinnamon. jimin bought enough for the whole pack.

You look at them a little too long, although not because you don't want to eat them. It’s been a while, a few weeks since you’ve made something like that, but every single one of the pastries is something you know how to make. You don’t know why you keep looking at them.

Tae smiles at you, still in the doorway. and it makes you feel a little less like you want to burst into tears. Her voice speaks of the quiet time you have in the library (the tenderness of having someone else do your makeup, another person combing your hair). You hope you'll get some dedicated one-on-one time with her soon.

"Hey little lovely, How was it?"

"She put me through the wringer but I think she got some suds out."

She and Namjoon giggle and you smile small. and you can tell that Namjoon wants to ask you more but he doesn't after a pointed look from your mate. There are footsteps in the hall and before you can move to take off your shoes Hobi is standing in the archway.

Yoongi efficiently strips you of Hobi's sweatshirt with a frustrated huff. It's Kind of like he’s trying to peel away the sadness (your clothes are soaked with your sour scent, rainy and unhappy. Regardless of Jin’s scent mark, you kind of stink).

You might have overheard their words just before you got into the car. Jin's hissed admonishment. “A lot of people cry during therapy Minnie, she’s not in trouble, can’t you smell it?”

Your scent is mellow underneath the memory of your distress, going sweeter by the second. Yoongi wants all memories of your sad scent banished from the house. Hobi stands at the door to the hallway, shifting back and forth, his eyes a little warmer than usual, hands shaking a little bit.

You’ve caught him looking at you a lot since the night he ran away, in the quiet moments when he thinks you’re not noticing. Eyes a shade warmer than usual, a sweetened franticness to his scent. Nervousness and happiness mix like blueberries and whipped cream.

When he pulls up beside you during movie nights and sits thigh to thigh with you. When his hands intertwine with yours over his knee or sometimes or when he pulls your legs sideways across his lap. He looks at you like that when he's doing the small things and he's looking at you like that right now.

You know how love starts, that it starts with the small things.

Hobi resists the urge to open his arms. would you come to him? Would you fold your body along his front so that he could feel your heartbeat? Pressing again and again to the opposite side of his chest with every thump?

He doesn’t say hey, but he does step a little closer. Fingers reaching out. The pad of his index finger slides down the meat of your pinky till it reaches the ball of your wrist. His own special hello.

Your breath hitches, just barely, almost imperceptible if it wasn’t for how close he stands.

A look behind you says Yoongi hasn’t made himself scarce, instead fussing with the pack's coats. Now that it’s getting colder, they don’t all fit by the door. You look behind Hobi and find Namjoon watching the three of you, he raises a singular eyebrow.

“How was it? Bad?” Hobi asks, breaking the silence and the tension, drawing your attention back to him. The next breath you let out is a lot less heavy, and your eyelashes flutter as he steps closer. Hobi smells good, a little earthy, mellowing out his usual sweetness. Sweet for an alpha.

“It was kind of hard, I kinda wanted to run away for a bit at the beginning." You can't keep meeting his eyes with how intensely he's looking at you and they flutter down to his hands. "I almost did.”

"I'm glad you didn't pup." Jin comments, full of reproach, the mirror to you and Hobi as he leans down to press a kiss to Namjoon's forehead. Shucking off his lapelled jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt.

“If you’d have called me, I’d have picked you up. We could still like- run away, if you're down.”

But the house is starting to heat up, and Jin and Yoongi are starting to cook. The light is still honey-yellow happy. And you tip your cheek into his arm. He finally- finally lets his arms settle around your waist.

“Nah, not yet.” You drag out the syllable all playful, and something forbidden stirs in Hobi’s gut. “Jin’s making my favorite tonight. not until later?”

Hobi goes silent, pulls back, biting his lips, eyes flickering from your eyes down. and-

You laugh and Hobi blushes. “Just spit it out.”

Everyone’s been a little bit touchier with you since that night (a little more overbearing too). You won’t immediately chalk Hobi's touchyness up to what you're all thinking. But the affection makes your scent gland feel tender. Zinging when Yoongi steps up behind you and nuzzles into it, huffing again.

Friends can hug each other after therapy right? Hobi swallows thickly and you feel it against your collar bone as he pulls back and steps away from you. “I ugh- got you a present?”

You brighten up instantly, and Hobi's anxiety increases tenfold. A bit of casual mischievousness on the edge of your lips that always have Hobi feeling like he’s being teased even though he knows he isn’t.

“Oh? A present? You’ve never gotten me a present before!”

He kicks at imaginary dust bunnies, fighting back what he knows is a noticeable flush. “I ugh- still owe you, from the car you know and honestly it's not even like a big gift it's like- so small in comparison and-”

Yoongi huffs and continues to disrobe you. Pulling your sweater over your head when he’s not satisfied that your unhappy scent has dissipated. Muttering something like. “hopeless alpha” under his breath. Your tank top pulls up, inches of your hip and skin on display. It's nothing that Hobi hasn't seen before and yet the blush reignites. The sunshine to your morning glory.

“I guess you're right.” But it doesn’t feel like it. Hobi doesn’t owe you anything for that, not when it was so easy to give. Not when you’ve gotten so many late-night drives from that gift.

Hoseok got the idea for your courting gift, one morning while watching you say goodbye to Namjoon:

The pack alpha has always been a fan of goodbye kisses, good morning, and goodnight kisses too. The particular kiss that morning had ‘I’ll miss you’ written all over it. It was so pretty in the way that you lingered, arms around Namjoon’s neck. His hand is underneath your shirt on the small of your back. Such a small touch and yet so gently possessive that it had Hobi aching to see it.

Hobi is unfortunately prone to jealousy and it turns the back of his neck hot. Makes his hands feel oddly tender. He's distracted by the visual, the task of packing up his work bag forgotten. Hoseok’s shift at the flower shop doesn’t start for another few hours, and he’s waiting, watching, an unhappy voyeur.

You and Namjoon have quite the height difference, if he was in between the two of you he’d be the perfect middle ground. That’s just another stupid thought, another stupid thought in the countless number of stupid thoughts that he’s had. (I like my alphas a little pathetic, and nothing's more pathetic than an alpha pining after an omega.)

He grumbles.

Yoongi prattles on, more awake than all of them as he outlines what you have to do today to make progress on the house- which is to go find a place that sells cheaper tile than the ones you first thought of using in the bathroom on the first floor. And maybe change it up a little.

The bathrooms escaped the renovations somehow, and a few nights ago- Jimin had admitted how much they actually use it even though it’s not the pack's primary bathroom anymore. Now that it’s not in use, they’re more willing to part with it for a few days for some very necessary re-styling. it toes the line from vintage to old a little too hard. The yellow is a little…yellow.

Yoongi wants to go light and airy with the color scheme, like he did with the upstairs bathroom and it's seafoam and brown tones. But like with most of the house, your vote is for colorful. “How about a light blue-” Yoongi continues to argue while you kiss Namjoon a little senseless in the doorway, at least Namjoon seems properly dazed, chasing your lips when you pull apart.

“No- we don’t have a room that’s magenta yet!”

This starts the same argument as always; “We can’t make every room in this house pink for Tae.”

But goodbyes take precedence, and when you turn back and smile at Hobi he flushes, shy to be caught looking. He moves, stepping around you and Namjoon to put his water bottle into his bag when you shout, “Stop, Seokie!”

Seokie is a new nickname, one that Jin only uses in the quietest of moments that you've somehow adopted when you don't want to call him Hobi. Hobi always thought that if you’d use any other nickname with him- you’d use daisy (he might want you and yoongi to share that pet name). But he’s a good pup and stops what he’s doing. Every atom in his body every electron no longer circulates neutrons but circulates you instead. Pulled in by your gravity.

You’ve moved so suddenly that you’ve spilled a bit of your coffee onto the floor. Maybe kissing Namjoon has left you feeling a little dizzy too. Yoongi just sighs fondly and wipes it up. Jimin looks up from his phone, smiling when he sees.

“You’ve got a rainbow on your cheek.”

It’s a trick of the light, early morning sunshine refracted through the mottled window just right to cast a single rainbow on the wall and on Hobi when he steps in front of it.

You cup his cheek, finger skimming across where the rainbow sits.

"Pretty."

Hobi feels hot all over.

At Tae’s call of, “If I have to do my eyeliner one more time I’m going to scream!” You giggle and dart away from him. Going to tend to Tae with a soft reply of "I've got you baby."

Hoseok is left, blushing in the morning light. Staying still like you might come by and cup his cheek again, Like a flower staying still in the hope of pollination.

Hobi is left, wanting to scream and somehow demand you back, both would be fair. His plight isn't missed by his packmates, who lean in like a set of jackals, grinning ear to ear at hobi's flustered predicament.

She's going to send him into rut if she's not careful Jin thinks, but doesn't say. instead he teases, “You’ve got to leave in the next ten-minute Hobi.”

Only then does Hoseok move- released from his spell and finally losing the rainbow on his cheeks though they might as well have stayed with how happy and warm he feels. How absolutely incandescent the love is glowing in his chest. A full spectrum of feelings, longing for you to come back.

He almost trips over noodle, darting after you with his tail raised high, catching himself on the edge of the couch at the last second, one shoe on and one off, his water bottle falling and spilling in the process.

yoongi sighs, and stoops to wipe it up. Jimin giggles and pulls Hobi up by his hips, the alpha's fingers feel hot where they've touched him, scalding. “What’s wrong, omega got your tongue?” yoongi returns to his breakfast, throwing the wad of soggy paper towels into the trash.

Jungkook laughs, “It’s more like he wants an omega to have his tongue in her-“

“You guys are gross,” He pushes at Jimin’s shoulder finally moving right. Yoongi hides his smile in a mouthful of Captain Crunch.

Hobi doesn’t think about the rainbows again until his next afternoon shift. When the low angle of the autumn sun cuts through the windows and catches the suncatchers that they hang in the doorway of the flower shop and cast more rainbows- dozens of them really across him and the flower.

He remembers when you came to visit, how you'd lingered over them, looked at them a second longer than you looked at the plants.

It’s a bit of a kitschy display. Other polished stones and nick nacks sitting on the deep shelf along with some smaller potted plants. A little tray of rose-quartz stones falsely advertises themselves as ‘heat reducers.’

The colors start to blend, and the rainbows sway softly in the light, gentle and pretty. He snaps a photo and thinks about sending it to you, but doesn’t.

The store is blissfully empty of Hobi's coworkers when he selects three of them. It's quiet when he packages them in tissue paper, one with a huge pink stained-glass moon at the top, another with three tiers. Each of them is delicate and pretty in their own right. No one’s bought a single one of them in the last three months anyway. They'll hardly be missed. Hobi gives himself a fat employee discount.

Hobi is unfortunately bad at hiding things, especially when he's nervous. Luckily the pack alpha doesn’t have it in him to tease. Namjoon had in fact been only too encouraging and given him a pep talk just this morning about courting and courting presents.

“The worst that can happen is that she doesn’t like it- and then you just have to try again which you were already planning on doing anyway.” Namjoon is quite simply the best at courting. It doesn't matter which subgender; alphas, beta’s, and omegas have all fallen under his touch. At least Hoseok has the opportunity to learn from a professional. Somehow the thought that you'd compare him to namjoon doesn't cross his mind.

Hoseok isn’t good at the romantic gestures that courting necessitates. He’s more of the ‘there when you need him’ kind of lover. Ready to make the small changes to make his loved ones' lives more manageable. Ready with his car keys for adventures. Those parts are easy, this is out of his depth.

Especially when it comes to you. Even After the love confessions, (are confessions still confessions if they’re so internal?) Hobi feels mostly unmoored. About to shatter upon unknown shores.

God, crushes are so frustrating (in the best kind of way, the way that keeps you sighing and daydreaming, the kind of way that makes you look in the mirror a little longer).

Tae helped him half an hour before she started on the pack's paperwork. They'd spent an hour deciding which places were best to hang them to get the greatest number of rainbows. She had even fussed with his hair a little to make it lie right. Having him hop up on the couch so she could see Hobi's face from your angle.

Hobi wanted to make sure there were at least one or two rainbows when he shows you. But when he leads you to the sunroom, his hands over your eyes (the same position you found yourself in when Namjoon surprised you with the nesting pod) there are more of them than there were when he set them up, whole constellations swaying softly.

The suncatchers are pretty and twinkly sparkly in the golden hour light, and your lips part in a simple show of awe when Hobi tells you you can open your eyes. It's so bright, they send dozens of little rainbows across the walls and your nesting pod. Over the white couch and the fig in the corner.

It’s very very pretty. and when you turn back to look a thim, Hobi once again has a rainbow on his cheek.

Your eyes twinkle, but you don't say anything. you stay quiet for long enough that Hobi gets nervous. his anxiety makes him talk fast. “I hung them here- but you can put them wherever you want- in the kitchen or upstairs or I can get you more for any places you want to put them- or- or- ”

You just about tackle him, arms looping around his neck resting your weight in his arms that instinctively grip around your waist. Hobi teeters, unsteady with such a heavy heart, toppling both of you onto the couch as you cry. "I love it!"

You’re sprawled not lying across him but his hand goes out to support the way you cling and rub your face into his chest, a happy little chirp slipping past your lips.

The wild thing in Hobi’s chest settles, settles, and curls around you. Tight and protective like a vice. You pull back, and your smile is just as bright.

Hobi sags, and rests his neck back against the couch, "Good- thank fucking god- I was so fucking nervous-" You fiddle with the buttons on his flannel, it's one of Yoongi's. It seems fitting that you steal his clothes and he steals Yoongi's.

"What brought all this on?"

Hobi doesn't have a good answer, in the quiet with the rainbows, or at least an answer he's ready for. He doesn't say that this is a courting present, and he doesn't need to because instead of answering your question- he replies with one of his own.

“Wanna go for a drive later?” he asks, voice tremulous like he thinks you might refuse him. You’ve never said no to him before, never said not tonight only not right now. Do you treasure our little talks the same way I do?

“Sure, after dinner? like I said? Just-" You lean back against his chest, and Hobi’s hands go tight tight tight around your waist. Holding you close. Clingy. He does not slip his hand under your shirt to cup the side of your hip the way that Namjoon might, but the thought crosses his mind.

Hobi is a good alpha, he won't cross that line until you tell him it's okay. Until then a thin layer of fabric separates his skin from yours. You're still warm to the couch.

“Sit and watch them with me?” You ask quietly. Almost shy, like you think he’d refuse you. He nods and the two of you sit on the couch to look at the rainbows together.

Eventually, Noodle finds the two of you, meowing and hopping up to stretch out along your thighs. Worming his way between the two of you.

The rainbows don't last forever, but Hobi sits with you until they fade.

~-~

Tae’s library is just like every public library:

Tall windows, wide quiet shelves with room for the stories to breathe. A colorful young adult section and an even more colorful kid’s section. A bit aways from the tables and computers so that any over-excited pups don’t disturb the adults. Big deep beanbags for small children to cuddle up to while they ponder fairy tales and adventures only a plastic-covered book away.

Tae’s long plaid skirt barely makes a whisper along the ground. The colder weather has allowed her to live all of her cottage core fantasies, her dark academia aesthetic truly flourishing. Her shirt is a little translucent today, and the fading summer tan of her skin pokes through it in spots where her tank top doesn't hide. Pretty long earrings dangle and clink in the quiet while she works on her shelving.

Wearing her chosen clothing items at work has been a bit of a work in progress.

Most of Tae’s coworkers approve of her transition in that overly willing-to-be-an-ally way that middle-aged women who generally consider themselves progressive outside of closed doors all do. And the ones that don’t approve have swallowed their words with lingering sour eyes and raised upper lips after the general receptiveness to Tae’s social transition.

It's hard to know who's genuine with it, who just doesn't want to cause a fuss, and who just doesn't give a shit. But most of the time her outfits get one or two compliments and thats it. Tae would rather them say nothing than anything negitive.

Tae likes the quiet of the library at this time of day, the silence gives her enough room to let her imagination wander. Tae likes to file away books in mid-morning, when there are fewer people around and her humming is less likely to disturb any of the library’s patrons. She sings to the stories and they sing back, tempting her with every well-worded title and delicately chaste summary.

But she doesn’t just think about stories or the book she's writing (her book is currently giving her hell on the 30th chapter) No. Today- there is a much more interesting love story blooming in her head, in the pack's den too.

She’s been thinking about you all morning (Tae thinks about you almost every morning) there are even little poems scrawled on the edge of her newspaper. Lines that are you and a bit of Hobi too.

I wished that I might be your hair clip / to know what it feels like / to be pressed against the nape of your neck/ To be your suntan/ perched on the edge/ of what you show everyone and what you show no one/ To be the bearer of every freckle/ like the sky holds the stars/ To hold and never let go/ Like birds hold sunshine / and flowers hold songs.

Everyone had noticed of course, how much time you and Hobi have been spending together.

The pack had even talked about it during a quiet moment without you and Hobi. Yoongi’s lack of communication regarding you and Hobi. “I don’t know anything” he’d unsuccessfully lied, and nearly been heaved up and wrestled to the couch as a result. But Jungkook’s puppy eyes had unsuccessfully endeared him.

Yoongi has kept Hobi's secret, but it's kind of hard not to notice. Tae isn't a fool. Tae is a much better liar than Yoongi is- because when you'd come to her after your late-night drive to gush with her about Hobi and the rainbows over makeup. She hadn't said anything about what she knows.

Tae couldn’t tell you how many times she’d noticed little touches, Hobi’s hand lingering on the small of your back, grabbing your waist when he moved behind you in the bathroom. When he take the greatest care to set out his sweatshirts in the morning and even asks Jungkook to make sure they’re clean. They’re practically not even his sweatshirts anymore with the amount you’ve been wearing them.

Tae isn’t an idiot, she knows that Hobi’s finally realized it. While she doesn’t trust herself to play matchmaker given how poorly the first time she pointed out Hobi’s attraction went. that doesn’t mean she’s not going to park herself firmly on the edge of her fantasy land with a box of popcorn.

If they were gonna get married, would Hobi wear a red tux or black or grey? Her brain is already thinking of wedding dresses. One of these days she’s really going to have to make a Pinterest board. Hobi would probably want to do sunflowers, and that might clash with the red unless it was a fall wedding- ooh, and what about pearl details and daisies? a beach wedding might be a little too on the nose for you.

Tae is so absorbed with her shelving and her daydreaming that she doesn’t notice the sound of small shoes on the carpeted floor. Nor does she notice the light-up flash of tiny iorn man sneakers. Her musings are easily interrupted by a small tug on her skirt, shy almost. She startles a little, looking down at the sudden touch.

The little pup's thumb is wet from where it was clearly placed behind their bucked teeth. He's got wide brown eyes and soft-looking hair, Tae can't stop the smile that comes to her lips.

“I wanted to read a book but I couldn’t reach, can you help me? Please?”

Tae’s heart swells as she leans down to the pup's level. “Of course, I can! Why don’t you show me what one you wanted,” diligently Tae follows the little one a few isles over, tugged along by their insistent pulling as he tells her about the pretty cover.

The little pup turns back, furrowing his bushy brows up at Tae, “are you a princess?” he asks. Tae almost has to laugh, a bright happy gender euphoric feeling filling her chest, that feeling of I could be filling her.

She makes her whisper just a little more hushed, playing along, “Don’t tell anyone okay? It's a secret.” The little pup nods, eyes darting around like there are dragons that would threaten her.

“What gave me away?”

“Princesses wear long skirts!” the pup says cheerfully, like it makes the most sense in the world. He's a little too loud and Tae winces. He finally finds the shelve with the story. The spine glimmers pink and gold and Tae is unsurprised to find the illustrated copy of Cinderella. Not the Disney or PJ version, but the Brothers Grimm version.

Tae cringes at the pair of doves on the cover.

Tae doesn’t say that the little pup is too small to read a book so big, or that there is one with more pictures much more appropriate away from the young adult section. The child can’t be more than 6 years old.

But still, Tae retrieves it and delivers it to their waiting arms. The little one clutches it to his chest, thanks Tae, and then promptly plops themselves onto the carpeted floor right there.

He opens the first page, huffs, and then looks up at her imploringly.

“I just realized I can’t read.”

He pouts and Tae melts. Tae wonders where the pup's mother is, but really, there certainly can't be much harm in this. This isn't the first time Tae has been guilted into reading a story to a pup while their parents work or make use of the library's computers.

"Just the first page.” She intones, caution for the child’s hopes in her voice, she presses her skirt under her knees and sits on the scratchy carpet. The pup curls close to see the pictures. Resting his tiny chubby cheek in the billow of Tae’s big puffy sleeve.

Tae's chest is all tight as she reads. The pup is very well-behaved, he pauses, and asks questions in a soft voice only when Tae gives him space to respond. Tae easily ommits the parts that aren't appropriate. but tae finds herself watching the pup a little bit more as the minutes stretch.

In a few years with your own little ones around, will Tae become the defacto bedtime story reader? Will she do this with the pack's pups one day? Will she be the one to take that bright little light in their eyes that imagines things as greater and more and cultivate it? Her cheeks feel warm at the prospect, heart beating like a hummingbird's wings in excitement.

Your pups and Jin's pups too- they're gonna be so loved. Tae's gonna be the best mom to them, The best alpha too.

One page turns into two and then three. In this quiet corner with only Tae’s voice as ruler and god, the little pup hinges on every word. Until there’s another voice close by. An adult not wishing to be loud, a whispered name.

“Jae?”

Tae smiles up at the woman at the end of the aisle of books. Her smile turns sweeter when Jae hops up and runs to press his face into her jeaned thighs. Tae remembers how that felt, how every scent besides Tae’s own omega mother felt overwhelming and icky.

Tae stands with a crack of her knees and makes to hand over the book, “This makes a great bedtime story until about chapter 8, that one you might want to skip until he’s a little older.”

The woman makes to smile, but it only goes so far. Tae watches in perfect detail, everything in slow motion, as her eyes flicker down to Tae’s Addams apple.

She drags her child close by their wrist quicker than Tae can blink. Tae sees the moment that the child realizes this touch isn’t gentle, wide eyes going fear-stricken as he's tugged behind her back. And then it's all downhill from there.

I'll spare you the more vile bits.

But the saddest moment of the argument that follows (Which involves not one but three of Tae's co-workers to calm down the hysterical woman whose screeches echo around the quiet library) is when the pup tries to get his mother's attention. "Mom, I liked that she was reading to me."

"He" the certified Karen hisses, moving in a way that makes the pup flinch back. "-should know better than to corrupt a pup with such- such-" her eyes dart down and up, and Tae's skin burns. "Disgusting behavior."

The misgendering doesn't even sting. What does hurt is the eyes peering in. She isn't being quiet and it's causing many of the library's patrons' attention is diverted. Tae's coworkers have put themselves between Tae and the woman. But there still aren't enough people (enough packmates) in between her and the verbal tirade.

An hour later, after the woman has left after threatening to call the police, Tae talks with his boss and his boss’s boss. The room behind the front desk is glass, and he knows that the door doesn’t keep the sound of their raised voice out.

“I wasn’t harassing her child; I was just helping him find a book for Christ sake!”

The worst part is that this isn’t the first time that this has happened. No- since Tae came out there have been two other complaints leveled against her from bigoted patrons. Both right at the beginning before she got the hang of presenting how she wanted to.

At least those confrontations weren’t face-to-face. At least those complaints didn’t end with someone threatening to call the police and a pup cowering, tugged along too roughly out the door.

The little pup had glanced back at Tae, mouth in pout, eyes swimming with tears.

Even if the woman felt righteous in her anger, the least she could have done was not yell in front of the pup. Tae promises herself right then and there, that she'll never raise her voice in front of the pack's pups, not in anger.

The book has stayed on the counter at the front. Pink and gold and treacherous. Tae hopes that if anything, the pup finds it and reads the ending one day. Stories have a way of finding us, even when the world makes us let them go.

Now in the back room behind the check-out counter. Tae’s boss levels her with an expectant look, the kind that people give when they don’t want to be transphobic not really- it’s just so hard for them not to, so learned. Tae is the nail that sticks up. It’s bullshit really. Tae can tell it's bullshit before she opens her mouth.

“Really? He asked for Cinderella?”

“Yes.” Tae’s biting tone is an alpha’s tone, not a man’s, and yet she knows how it sounds.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m not lying.” Is Tae supposed to only help some children find the books they want? Is she supposed to look at them and make her best guess if they’ve got homophobic parents and skip them over? It’s not her fault that the sweet sweet pup’s parent was a bigot.

“I can’t help but feel like- you’ve got a personal agenda-“

"Charlie-" the district manager cautions.

Tae can’t stop herself from snapping, alpha anger sparking with the intent to burn. “Little boys should be allowed to read Cinderella if they want to” Rats and all. Her hands are shaking, and it isn’t missed by them. The room smells thick with Tae’s spicy cinnamon anger.

The district manager sets her hand on Tae's shoulder, and her anger ebbs just a little. “I think maybe you should go home a little early today, just to cool off. We can talk about it more tomorrow.”

Tae doesn’t want to go home early, Tae doesn’t want to go home at all as she packs up her books. Her bag lighter than usual, absent of the stories that she wants to take home. For once there aren’t any that she wants to read.

She walks to the train station because Jimin won’t be off work for another 2 hours and that’s when he’d usually pick her up, the last three days he’s gotten her flowers too; white roses the first day, pink the second, and red the third. She sends him a text.

Tae <3 (1:48): I left work early today, you don’t have to pick me up, I’ll get an Uber home.

Mini-alpha (1:49):!!!!!

Mini-alpha (1:49): What happened? Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up? I can leave now.

Tae sighs, looking down at her phone while she waits for the crosswalk light to come on. Red still, green in a few seconds, she only has to wait. She can practically feel Jimin's nervous energy through the phone. it's a wonder he doesn't immediately call her.

It makes her soft. It isn't in Jimin's nature to give any of his lovers any space but he always makes an effort when it comes to her.

Tae <3 (1:53): No. It’s fine. I’ll talk to you when you get home.

Tae doesn’t want to talk to Jimin about transphobia again. At least not yet. It’s too much energy. It’s not that Tae doesn’t want to make what happened during Namjoon’s rut better. It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk about it- it’s just that there’s nothing to talk about, the explanation of his actions are such a burden for Tae to bear. And Tae trusts that Jimin’s heart is in the right place even if he makes mistakes. And even telling Jimin off, yelling at him, wouldn’t change it.

Either one day Tae will not have to deal with bigoted parents, either one day she’ll pass and won’t have to worry, or she'll always be in this awkward middle ground.

Trans people are like toupees, you only notice them when there’s something off, something a little misplaced about them. Tae fears that most of all. Femininity, as much as she wants it, as much as it's hers to take, what if it won't ever fit right? What if she never passes?

Tae loves her job at the library, it’s the perfect mix of boring and safe and easy even if it doesn’t pay enough. But even as she's gained things like skirts and puffy sleeves, she's exchanged them for days like today. Really, the library was her favorite place before today and now, every step away from it makes her feel a little lighter. She's not even angry anymore, just exhausted mentally.

Tae decides to walk home at least she’s in her most conservative channel flats, they could use a little bit more wear and love and Tae’s thoughts are still too sharp. She dulls them to a palatable edge that all falls apart when she gets home.

You’re there, thank fucking god you’re always there when she gets home. You’ll always be Tae’s comfort person.

Tae opens the door with a creek and push of cold air, you're saying something to Yoongi turning with a toss of your hair, eyes brightening when you see her before you've even said her name.

You look a little healthier today, with a little bit more of a rosy glow to your cheeks and a healthy brightness to your eyes, not all glassy.

"Tae! You're home early!"

Tae will never stop being proud of how hard you try, and will never stop being a bit envious either because Tae-

Tae looks at you and wilts, bag flopping onto the floor, and predictably burst into tears.

"Oh- oh Tae."

"Baby girl-"

You and Yoongi are just about the best security blanket a packmate could ask for. You're so good as you pull her down to your level so you can kiss away her tears, maneuvering her like a perfect team onto the couch. Yoongi's strong hands slide off her shoes. Yoongi's fingers digging into her sore heel as you kiss away her every tear.

A substantial amount of babying and a Sos packmate in distress text later, and Tae is reclining across a freshly fluffed nest, the muscles in her body relaxed. The blisters on the back of her feet are bandaged and kissed. Every inch of her body is too.

You don't talk about it until after the pack's facemasks are finished, and hobi's clear coat has dried over the tiny nail sticker that you left. a small bumblebee.

Your skin smells sweet after a long long bath full of fancy bath bombs. Jinnie had also rubbed oil onto her freshly shaven legs. You helped, dragging it along oh so carefully to not nick her skin. Ending each pass with a kiss to her ankle and then upper thigh.

Tae’s head is in your lap now, cheek pressed against your (slightly chubbier) thighs. Her sniffles the background music as Tae gives her final recap of what happened.

Your nose gets a wrinkle in it when you go cross. "There's so much meanness to the world, I hate how people have to add to it."

Jimin’s anger leaves an undercurrent in the air, dragging the other alphas along, Hobi’s hands are strong where they dig into Tae’s shoulders, belly down in the nest while you play with her hair, braiding it back and forth. The attention makes her feel a little tingly.

“Do you know what her name was? Did you get a look at her car-“ Jimin asks, nearly barking. The library has cameras. Jimin knows it does.

Jin sets a hand on the back of his neck, a scruff threatening. “Down pup. Tae doesn’t need you to track them down.” Jimin’s teeth look particularly sharp in the light. For a face so soft he has quite the mouth on him.

“They made her sad,” he growls, but it's softer, more pointed as he crouches over her.

Namjoon’s quiet voice unlocks the whole world's worries, massaging gently down the column of Tae’s delicate neck, rough hands, worn tender touching her regardless. Namjoon is rarely ever so pointed, but it's logical, from an alpha's perspective, Tae knows what he hints.

"I think that if your bosses aren't going to protect you from people like that, then I want you to leave your job." Jin gives him a look like, 'Now you know where I'm coming from' but Tae's the important packmate right now.

Tae rolls Namjoon's words around her tongue, her hand loosely twined with his. Namjoon has the steadiest hands out of everyone in the pack and a few minutes ago he repurposed his surgery skills to do her nails. Took off the chipped red and re-did them because Namjoon knows she feels best when her claws are polished. He checks them now. Tapping them lightly to not smudge them.

It's a girl's night, the first girl's night you've ever had with the whole pack. Tae's face is still glossy from the face mask.

“I don’t think I want to quit; I don’t think that would help at all that’s not going to like- solve the world and all its issues.”

“No, but- if it’s making you more sad than happy. Then maybe it’s worth considering.”

Tae knows Namjoon’s not saying that she doesn’t make enough to affect the pack's finances, but that's still the truth. Hobi pulls himself along her other side and you watch him with heavy-lidded eyes.

Hobi presses a kiss to Tae's temple, “All you want to do is write every day anyways, and we just want you to be happy,” 6 heads nod their agreement.

Hobi isn't wrong; The last four weekends in a row Tae has woken up several hours earlier than the pack would usually stir from morning cuddles, just to get a few hours of uninterrupted writing done. She’s also spent nearly every night in her library room, staying up late after the pack has retired upstairs until one of you comes down and wrangles her upstairs. The pack's prettiest alpha needs her beauty sleep.

But is it enough to count on? Is it worth quitting her job over?

You duck down low, kissing the same spot Hobi did, your lips touching just a Tae away. a heavy breath wooshes out of her chest. "Yeah why wouldn't we want you to quit? If you're always here then I can always do this."

Your kiss is gentle, and it tastes like belonging more than Tae would ever be able to write, to describe. A love that makes you feel like you belong is a rare thing. And Tae's hand goes up to tangle in your hair, keeping you there for just a shared breath longer.

The next breath tastes a bit like freedom. It's scary to be free.

(But Tae leaves her 2 weeks' notice on her boss’s desk before the end of the next work day, and she doesn't feel bad about it one bit).

~-~

(1 year prior)

Maybe the truth is that the reason why you don’t feel you deserve agency is because you know what your agency looks like. The choices you’re willing to make when it comes down to it.

The secrets you tell and the lies you have buried deep in your pocket like one of Hobi’s found things. Something you can’t get rid of and cast back into the ocean. No matter how hard you try. There is something about murder that sticks, that stays no matter how many times you try to wash your hands of it.

It's not guilt, because you don't feel guilty for what you had to do.

Being backed into a corner can make someone do a whole hell of alot of monstrous things. And back then Life was monotonous. Back then there was Anguish without change.

Your life went like this: Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Wake up. Meet up with Hyejin. Make poison. Make pastries. Go to the Don’s house. Feed it to them. Listen to Moonbyul tell you to wait. Go home. Get beaten again and again. Get raped every night. On and on and on.

Clean up your blood from the tiles. Clean it from the carpet. Hydrogen peroxide and not bleach. Cover the bruises up with color corrector first before you put concealer over them.

Smile and tell everyone that your husband and you are perfectly happy. There will be a pup on the way soon enough, I'm so lucky to have someone who supports me, and I'm so lucky to have a love like this.

Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Go to sleep and don't cry because then he'll beat you for keeping him awake.

In the darkness that curls around you. Blood going tacky between your legs, you start to dream of wicked sweet things.

What you've been through would be enough to make anyone go crazy, Enough to make anyone consider drastic action. Enough to make anyone consider murder.

Enough for you to slide a pair of small syringes off of Moonbyul’s night desk and a small packet of arsenic too. You know how to make a simple syrup. You know how to mix in arsenic to it, how to make it liquid soluble without breathing it in.

You make it in the fine china and break it after so that you can throw it out without worrying. You get a beating for it but you hardly feel it when Geumjae drags you across the floor by your hair. It hardly breaks your heart when he steps on your ribcage with the intent to break bones because you know what you have to do.

After, with your own blood on your teeth, you make sure to leave it in the bottom of the trash, and ask the cleaning staff not to take it out yet. They're supposed to find it.

You don't care if you die, you just want to make sure the necessary villains are punished. When it comes to blame the person who is most to blame is you anyway. You are simply numb to pain, numb to your own anguish. Numb to the idea of your own death too. Geumjae's already killed you in every way that matters.

Cut off a wolf's head and it still has the power to bite; give a girl an enemy and she'll do dangerous things.

Your meetings with the Don and beta always go the same; gossip, and greetings. Sometimes when you come bearing bruises, they tell you to wait just a little longer.

Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Wake up. Just give it time for his temper to settle. Once you're mated it will get better.

Even Moonbyul and Hyejin tell you that planning the perfect crime takes time. That you'll be saved if you only wait. Help is coming.

Bullshit.

You’re tired of waiting for him to kill you, you're tired of waiting to die. You're smarter than all of them because you know exactly how to get everything you want and you're willing to do anything to get it.

The next time Moonbyul and Hyejin take you to the Don and Beta’s house under the guise of afternoon tea, you are prepared for war and dressed with revenge in mind. Your white dress knotted at the shoulders falling in a heavenly sheet, like an avenging angel, neither pious nor sinful.

You are a force of nature and nature does not ask when it takes lives.

What’s worse; the people that enable the abusers or the abusers themselves? Who is more to blame for the pain caused?

You are no longer hiding and you won't let them hide this time. The bruise on your cheek is purple and mottled, the rings of bruises on your wrists from his hands while he held you down.

When you smiled at Geumjae over breakfast this morning, there was only one thought in your mind.

You’re next.

Your agency looks like this; elegantly done hair your skirt a little short for fall. A basket of arsenic-backed goods in a basket as is usual. Fluffy pink cupcakes with the perfect Swiss meringue buttercream in little spirals.

A gentle smile at the beta when she opens her doors for you, letting the monster in, because you’ve been over enough times that she trusts you. You suppose that's your doing too, you've fooled her into thinking you're just another idiot girl who decided to marry rich and didn't bother to consider the strings attached. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, you bare your teeth when you smile.

Hyejin has helped on that front; over the past few months, she has taught you exactly the kind of conversation that the beta likes- the useless conversations about family drama, the small little bits that you let through about your husband’s opinion on which pup is marrying whom, which alpha is good or bad for the packs near dozen omega pups that aren’t mated yet. Which alphas are likely to be a liability? This kind of gossip is all information and strategy.

You might have lied in your call to her and told her you were fearful of one of the younger ones- and a conversation you’d happened to witness on a street corner, a shadowy figure that looked a little too severe not to be the authorities. Of course, these kinds of things have to be handled with discretion and ginseng tea.

The Don does not bother to turn down the TV when you walk in, sitting vulnerable in his recliner with his feet up. It doesn’t appear that he has any sort of inclination or plans to interact with you when you sit here at his kitchen table and talk. Instead, he lounges and watches his sports, loud because his hearing is so bad, nearly deafening.

It’s good. hopefully anyone nearby will not overhear.

You hope that if this goes south before you have a chance to confess that they find the letter you wrote at home; the one that says your husband is the one that put you up to this.

You know that the pack’s retribution will be swift, that any sort of alibi he has will be null and void with the evidence you’ve been leaving. A little trail of breadcrumbs that leads right into a pretty little grave for your husband. Even if you won't be around to see it.

You're already a friend of pain. You already find comfort in it. If they kill you (which they will) then at least it will finally be over.

You wait until the moment you know is coming, when the Don looks over his shoulder at you and comands “Be a dear and bring me one.”

You put one of your artfully created confections on a pretty gold-rimed plate and walk to his side, you lean over to put it in his lap as he indicates. the same way he does every time you come over with sweets.

The lingering hand on your ass is hardly abnormal. behind you the beta's tea cup clinks as she sets her tea down and says nothing. even though you know she notices.

He’s so busy coping a feel he doesn’t notice your other hand, going to the syringe duck taped to your thigh.

It happens quicker than the Don can blink. The most powerful man in the underworld can't be bothered to protect his life for a pretty little piece of ass. You smile down at him, and his hand squeezes the round apple of your behind.

His hand is still on your ass when you whip your arm around with as much force as you can and drive the syringe and plunger into his neck.

You must have hit something in his neck because he barely has a second to splutter before he’s going still and quiet. Mouth falling horrifyingly slack. His breath rattles and his eyes dart as his whole body is paralyzed near instantly, in the time it takes for his blood to circulate.

Two paces, swing, plunge.

The beta barely has a second to scream or stand to attack you. You are so much younger than they are. Your body might be fragile and frail but It’s still stronger than hers. Her brief scream is easily drowned out by the scratch of the TV.

She ends up on the floor, the icing on the cupcakes sticky as she falls into half of them, tossed onto the floor by your brief tussle as you straddle her struggling form. Her pushing gets weaker and weaker and she sobs.

It doesn’t surprise you when you see the black tracery of a dying mating mark itching up her skin.

One thing that the family had always been oh so careful of was to talk only in their mother tongue around you. Secrets are best kept when they’re spoken in foreign tongues. It was a way to isolate you. To make them speak English for you to understand felt like a beholden request. At one point It was a point of insecurity for you, always left out of the loop, always relying on your husband to keep you in the know.

You bend over her as her pushing gets weaker and weaker, the arsenic doing its job, causing numbness and the tingling of extremities before it causes paralysis and then coma and death. Your hair falls in a sheet over the beta’s face.

You’ve studied much over the last few months. Enough that you lean in close over her and speak your words in perfect Korean.

“You look so angry,” you croon softly, dragging a finger down her cheek. Spittle froths at her mouth as she breathes heavily. “You shouldn’t- if you want someone to blame you only need to look in the mirror.”

You lean in close until your lips brush her ear, “it's your fault you see- you're the one who lied" you mimic her voice, making it scratchy, "'just wait a little longer, it will be better for the family if you stay quiet." you laugh, "as if that where true, the only person it benefits is you. You where ready to let him hurt me and kill me if i just stayed quiet."

You wipe away a bit of spit from her lower lip, "You always told me how it was your duty to protect the family- but you only serve yourself. If you'd have done something, if you'd have helped me I wouldn't have had to do this. You just wanted me to shut up and die quietly.”

You switch back to English, “Well now it’s your turn.”

You watch her tongue go numb, paralyzed, but the poison hasn’t advanced far enough for her not to speak.

“Fucking- worthless bitch.”

You laugh and stand brushing some crumbs from your skirt. She’s already too weak to move, to shout, or fight you. You watch the light start to leave her eyes, winking out so slowly, like a dying star. But she still looks so pissed.

“You don’t have a right to be angry, you killed me first. You can’t blame me for fighting back.”

She gives her last breath and the TV plays on. Your shoe ticks her hand, her fingers twitching weakly. You watch as she gasps her last breath, a small smile on your face.

You sit at the table and turn the TV down. You wait a few minutes, but it quickly becomes an hour. You have yourself a nice little treat while you watch, turning the channel to a food network while you eat.

You really are a fantastic cook. The crumb on this batch is so nice you don’t even taste the metallic tang of poison. You eat through one, and then another, until the whole basket is empty.

Before you know it there is a concerned knock at the door. The lock clicks and turns when you answer it.

When Moonbyul opens the door, you laugh at the expression on her face. Licking the frosting from your lips. Even that is delicious.

She takes in their bodies, crumpled on the floor the frosting on your cheeks. The evidence. Both of them dying. A violence you cannot undo.

Her voice is somber. “Oh Pup, what have you done?”

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 every word helps motivate me to write the next chapter!

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Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

~-~

Notes:

this chapter is a very classic bily chapter, in the fact that there is a fuck ton of fluff and then bang the mafia bits just take you out. we needed to get back into the mafia bits of the story sooner rather than later though 💀

i felt like i was going a little too over the top with certain bits of puptalk in this chapter, but i really wanted to use it to show that like yeah- the pack has been treating her alot more gently since her breakdown, they've been babbying the fuck out of her, even if we don't get to see it :(

Hobi's texts are so???? Fucking cute?? He's so hopeless my god he wants to make her feel loved without actually saying it and i hope you read them and just go "oh, you're an idiot."

I have this whole elaborate backstory to how wonho's gym works with monthly subscriptions to classes where people can decide how many classes they want to take a week, ie gym dues for facilities and then discounted classes on top if they pay for it before hand, with several tiers.

this chapter almost feels clerical- this is definitely more of a set up chapter- where i needed to check off a lot of boxes, like hobi's courting present- before we go any further into the story. things are going to start amping up in terms of stakes pretty quickly.

That one part, where hobi is kinda malfunctioning after the m/c touches his cheek and everyone teases him feels the most representative of the pack as a whole. like that part where they're all replying- feels very real. i struggle a little to capture a sense of domesticity in concise ways, but i think this part is very tidy.

That little touch with hobi- where he touches her wrist and her finger, that touch has so much weight to it, i personally think the whole pack was tasting the sexual tension on the air, can you guys feel it too or is it all in my head?

idk why yoongi calling tae babygirl makes me so flustered but it does 🥵

i really wanted to work calling tae mommy into the chapter someway but tbh this chapter felt complex enough without it.

there is like- one plot hole in this whole story, and that is in the first chapter of the story when yoongi gets a call the person on the other line says "grandfather is dying." implying that his death wasn't instantaneous like this is shown to be. however, in my mind- the injections don't actually kill the don and beta but plunge them into a coma that they never wake up from- is this an actual possibility with arsenic poisoning- NO IT ISN'T lol, you're just going to have to suspend your disbelief for me.

the m/c has always been the person who killed the don and the beta- i've known this since like...maybe the 4th chapter? it wasn't in the og og plan for the story but almost everything in bily has been hammered out since then. and tbh you already knew she killed them just not that it was this violent! does this count as a secret???? idk! maybe!!!

she's a little murder baby just like minnie <3

[fanofstuff01]

HERE I AM! Here I am with a little writing of mine!

Before we get started, this AU belongs to @woah-why-i-am-here and they have pretty cool drawings about it. GO CHECK IT OUT!

Considering the show itself is 16+, this is aswell, know it then read this, also it has Valentino.

DEAR TUMBLR! PLEASE DONT TAKE THIS DOWN!

A little summary: Adam fell to hell, needed money, and Valentino was the only one hired him. He owned his soul, and it was too late when Adam realized what he agreed to work on. He is one of Valentino’s top whores now. And of course, Adam and Angel met, in fact, more than ‘met’. Their films sure sell a lot. They slowly become friends and Angel convinces Adam to come to the hotel. This is after these happened. Also not shipping Angel x Adam.

ENJOY! (Also since you love holydust @rius-cave , tagging you!)

“And cut!” Valentino said proudly, ending the scene. “One hour break and we’re here till 8!”

Adam panted as he tried to collect his mind. He slowly backed away from the fish demon gal, wore his robes back and got up to go to his dressing room. This was the third demon he was on top of that day, and sure enough she was not gonna be the last. Today was gonna suck. Val was planning to work on eight fucking movies, not to mention six of them were gay and two of them were with Angel. He was glad the one-hour break came.

“Addie~” He heard someone behind him and felt that certain ‘someone’ gripping his shoulders.

Valentino. Awesome. Just who he needed.

He attempted to not show the fear and hatred he felt to his face and mask. Too bad the fucking thing was programmed to show every emotion on his face, and sometimes they didn’t even needed to be on his face, him feeling them was enough. Angel had a -probably true- theory about it, he thought that it was ‘connected’ to his brain when he wore it. Adam was already regretting that he put the “I will only work with a mask” in his contract. He didn’t like the idea of showing his face on films, but this was much worse. He couldn’t fucking took it off till his shift ended!

“Yes, Val?” He asked, trying to avoid the movements he was doing to his chest. Yes, prick? he corrected himself in his brain.

“You were so, so good in the last one, babe” he chuckled.

“Thank you, Valentino.”

“Go ahead. Rest, baby.” He thought he was gonna leave him, but instead, he leaned in and kissed his cheek, completely disgusting the sinner. He didn’t flinch or resist though, he knew what’d happen if he did. “Oh, I can’t wait to see you and Angie on stage together.” he let out another one of his creepy chuckles and finally let the first man go. Adam almost runned to his dressing room, closed the door behind him and threw himself on the couch.

“Fuuck.” He groaned and tried to grab his wine bottle without getting up.

“Adam?” A familiar voice came from outside.

“Door isn’t locked!” He yelled.

“Hey, dickmaster.” A pink spider demon came inside and sat down beside him, tilted his head back and watched as the demon managed to grab the bottle and drank it without standing up, like his life depended on it.

“Y’know you can choke yourself doin’ that, right?”

“Meh, who the fuck cares.” He get up dazedly and looked inside the bottle with one of his eyes.

“I don’t recommend dying on work hours, Val punishes the ones who do.”

“Unholy shit, that actually happened?!” Adam asked, his pupil-les eyes went wide.

“I saw three accidents.” Angel shrugged. “Any left for me?”

“Sorry, I guess that bitch camera guy sneaked up here again and stole my stash.”

“It’s fine. Wanna eat your food? We’re gonna need energy.” Angel asked and took out two containers out of his bag. “I made lasagna yesterday.”

“Oh, you bet I do then.” He smirked and took his own. Angel knew the best ways to make it.

They chatted together until their break ended.

“Adam! Get your ass here or there will be consequences!” A little window appeared in Adam’s mask, almost like a pop-up ad. It was their costume designer. “And bring Angel with you!”

“Fine, fine! Ugh.” He groaned, swiped the page to make it dissapear and get up. “Who’s idea was putting this shit on this again?” He mumbled to himself. “Let’s go cocksucker, we have another job to do.”

HOW IS IT!?

By the way, Adam’s mask in this is practically based on his original mask, a Voxtech product just for Adam. Like Vox’s screen, it’s like a screen-face.

I’ll continue this

[pregnant-piggy]

hey I want wondering if you could do a harry j potter x reader oneshot when the are dating for a few months (takes place in ootp or hbp I don’t really mind which) and reader is still not completely comfortable with cuddling and that kind of stuff with harry cause she just isn’t used to physical contact and one day when harry wants to cuddle with her in the evening she stiffens or flinches and harry is extremely worried (yk him and his adorable overreacting) cause he doesn’t know if she has any trauma or something and you can make the rest up just make it extremely fluffy (only if you want to do it tho I just think it’d be very cute <3)

hi love, so while my requests are technically not open, you were lucky there weren't many requests from my celebration so i did write this :) and it wouldn't be a blurb from me if it wasn't 1.3k words (i swear i'm not doing it on purpose)

Flinch

The fire spit out sparks near your feet as you poured over your Divination homework. You were halfway but it was becoming harder and harder to come up with solutions and explanations of your dreams and with every minute that passed your concentration grew smaller. Not that there had been much to begin with when you'd started, but whether you liked it or not, the deadline was approaching fast.

Just as you'd finished describing your dream of last Thursday—something to do with unruly black hair and glasses—you got interrupted. Someone dropped to the couch behind where you were sitting on the floor and let out a loud sigh. Then in the corner of your eye you saw a flash of red hair darting to the last empty chair on your side, followed by a "How gentleman-like of you, Ron".

Hermione sat down next to you on the floor and glanced at your parchment. "I feel sad for you."

"You should," you said, dropping your quill and massaging your forehead with your fingers. "It's a wreck."

"Wait a minute." Ron perked up from his slouch in the armchair. "Why did you not feel sorry for me when I complained about it today?"

Hermione shook her head. "Because you don't even try, Ron! You predicted you'd be caught by a mob of horses and be forced to turn into a centaur."

"So?" Ron shrugged. "That's just what my dream meant."

"Be careful," you said to Ron. "Or soon you'll dream it's a mob of Hermiones chasing you."

Ron shivered as if that was the worst nightmare anyone could have and behind you Harry barked a laugh. You looked back at your boyfriend and smiled. The dating thing was still new and you were trying to find your way with it, but you were glad to have made him laugh.

"Hush now," you said, waving a hand towards Ron. "I want to finish this."

You did get silence but only for five minutes or so before Ron started to talk about the upcoming quidditch game against Ravenclaw. You, who had been busy coming up with a dream for Friday—maybe Ron's technique wasn't all that bad after all—got pulled from your focus. You tried for ten more minutes, but eventually had to admit that you were doing more bad than good and would have to correct everything you wrote tomorrow so you gave up  You threw your quill down and rested back against the bottom of the sofa, right next to Harry's legs.

Without turning away from his conversation, he laid his hand atop your head and started massaging it.

You froze, heart skipping a beat and pumping twice as fast after. Every muscle in your body grew rigid, frozen, and you carefully moved away, pretending to grab something of the table, but in fact trying to get away as unnoticeable as possible.

No one noticed. Harry's hand fell back but he said nothing nor did he move closer again. With a pounding heart you stared at your Divination paper, pretending you were fixing a mistake.

It wasn't Harry's fault. Really not. You'd never been good with physical contact but you also never thought it a real problem till you got together with Harry. Now each time he wrapped an arm around you or reached for your hand, you froze, panicked, feared. You weren't even sure why.

You also didn't know if Harry had noticed. He had never said anything about it and whenever it happened and you pulled away he seemed not to notice it. But you knew it wasn't fair to him and you did try to do better. Just yesterday he had taken your hand and without too much panic you'd held onto it for the entire walk.

It was a slow process and many times you were on the verge of telling him about it, but you were scared.

After a few minutes of calming down, you got up and sat next to Harry on the sofa, leaving enough space so you weren't touching but no one would think anything of it.

Ron was animatedly telling a story about Flitwick who had fallen off his chair and Harry turned to you.

"You alright?" he asked softly.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine." You bit your lip and Harry's gaze flicked down but back up quickly.

"Are you sure?" he went on. "You seem a bit off."

"No, all's good. Don't worry." You shrugged. "Just tired."

"Okay." Harry's mouth split into a smile. "'Cause you'd tell me if something was wrong right?"

"Of course." You tried a smile and apparently it was convincing enough for him to drop the subject.

"It's not that funny, Ron," Hermione said, tearing your focus from Harry. She shook her head while Ron wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Next to you, Harry smiled lazily. "It kinda was. He made the funniest noise ever." He proceeded to make some high-pitched noise that had Ron roaring with laughter in his chair until he fell off.

"Serves you right," Hermione mumbled, but there was a smile on her face.

You laughed and sunk a little more into the sofa. So much that you almost didn't see what happened next to you. Almost.

Harry stretched out his arm to lay it over your shoulders and before you could stop it, you flinched.

And this time there was no mistaking it. He noticed.

"What-?" he stuttered.

Your eyes were wide, your body frozen in shock. You hadn't meant for it to happen, didn't even know it would happen. You'd been on edge all day, tired, overworked, but you never figured it would end up like this.

And unfortunately not only Harry noticed.

"Ron," Hermione said. "Ron, come on. I want to talk to you."

Ron looked up from where he hadn't even bothered get up from the floor. "Why?"

"Just something." Hermione's eyes flicked to your frozen body and Harry's face that you were too afraid to look at. "Quickly. Come on, Ron."

"Alright, fine. But I don't see what could possibly be so important."

"Just come!"

Hermione quickly left, Ron following after her reluctantly. You were glad she'd given you some privacy, but you didn't want to see the undoubtedly hurt look on Harry's face.

"y/n?" Harry didn't reach out for you and somehow that hurt. "Can you look at me?"

You took a deep breath and looked up. You had expected pain, anger, disappointment, but instead there was only worry and confusion. Harry's eyes were full of concern and that gave you the slightest of hope. He didn't hate you.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

"I'm trying really hard, Harry. It's just... physical contact and touch and everything---it doesn't come easy to me. I don't know why; it's just always been so for me." You looked down at your hands in your lap. "And I want to change that. I do. But it takes time."

Harry was silent for a long time and you didn't look at him. You'd understand if he didn't want to see you any longer, if he wanted to break things off. You'd hate that, of course, but you'd understand.

"We have time."

"What?"

You lifted your gaze to his face. He was watching you with a smile.

"You said it takes time. We have time. All the time in the world if we need."

"You mean that," you realised.

"I do. I don't want to lose you over something like this. We'll find our way with it. I promise."

A watery laugh fell from your lips. You nodded, more relieved than words could describe. He didn't hate you, not at all. Your fears had been ungrounded.

"Thank you," you said. And very carefully, you placed your hand atop Harry's one. Nerves spiked in your chest, but you pushed them down. "It's not that I hate you touching me. It's just a bit more difficult."

Harry turned his hand over and held yours. He was careful, soft.

"That's alright," he said. "I'm still yours."

- - - - - - -

hp taglist: @kingalrdy @missswriter @awritingtree @ananad1 @secretsthathauntus @izzyyy-1 @nyotamalfoy @xxinvisiblexx @idli-dosa @lacunaanonymoused @kitkatkl @d22malfoys

[sanguineterrain]

it shall pass | miguel o'hara

Summary: Miguel isn’t alone, not anymore. Sometimes, he needs to be reminded of that.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader (some Spanish endearments are female-gendered, but other than that, no gendered descriptions.)

Word count: 1k

Content desc: bathing together, Miguel has a tough day, insecurity, established relationship. Lots of fluff bc he deserves to be taken care of!!!!

A/N: hi guys! I’m back with more Miguel <3 as usual, it’s not anyone’s responsibility to correct my Spanish, but I always appreciate corrections, if offered. Also, I try to use Mexican slang only, since Miguel is Mexican, so if something is off with that, please feel free to let me know. 

Translations: 

Hola, cielito - hi, sweetheart

Mi amor - my love

Estoy sucio - I’m dirty.

Solo para que pueda sentirte - Just so I can feel you.

¿Puedes hacerlo frente a mí, por favor? - In front of me, please?

No es nada - It’s nothing.

Tonto - fool/idiot 

Yo no sería nada sin ti - I’m nothing without you.

Es verdad - it’s true.

If you enjoy, please let me know through comments/reblogs ♡

the divider

Even after eight months together, Miguel enters your apartment like a cat burglar. Like he should not be here. 

You'd told him, at first, to stop that and used the truth as your reason: because he didn't need to. This is your home, but it's his too, and it puts pins in your heart every time he comes in like he's doing something wrong. Like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Then you'd tried humor. You scare the soul out of me when you do that, Miguelito. Maybe we should put a bell around your neck.

It hadn't done anything. He still acts like he's not allowed to jingle his keys in the lock and leave his shoes by the door and help himself to your shampoo and orange juice. 

So when you hear his footsteps at the door and you can track him as he heads for the kitchen, you’re worried. You rarely hear him coming. Miguel always finds you immediately, even if you're a block from the house. You'd asked him once how he knows it's you; he told you it’s because you have a distinct step. 

You might find that a little unnerving if you weren't so damn enamored with him. 

"Miggy? That you, sweetheart?"

He appears like you've summoned him, hunching in the doorway of the kitchen. You turn from the chopping board with a smile. It dims as you take in his appearance. 

"Hey," you say, putting down the knife and walking to him. 

"Hola, cielito," he says quietly, gaze downcast. 

You reach your hands up and Miguel bows his head slightly so you can cup his face. Your thumbs brush over his smooth jaw, caressing up and down in a pattern. 

"What happened, mi amor?"

He shakes his head. Miguel isn’t small, but you learned early on that he holds the most weight in his eyes. Every shard of guilt, every worry, every fear, they all sit in those crimson eyes. 

“Just—” He clears his throat, swallows. “Just a hard day.”

He brushes your hips with the pads of his fingers. You make a small noise, encouraging him.

“Touch me,” you say. 

He opens his mouth and maybe it’s because you’ve known him for so long, but you hear the words before he dares to say them. I don’t deserve to.

“I want you to,” you say before he can speak. 

“The dinner…”

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, Mig. We can eat later.”

He’s still in his suit. You try to scan him for scratches or bruises, but the technology repairs itself, which makes it impossible for you to detect anything. 

“Estoy sucio,” he mumbles, still not touching you.

You think for a moment. Then you lace your hand with Miguel’s and tug him towards the bathroom. He follows, brow crooked in confusion but he trusts you. You know he does.

The bathtub had been a special installation. A treat, for you and Miguel. He doesn’t use it on his own; only at your prompting. But you’re glad for it anyway. 

You kneel and turn on the faucet, plugging the drain. You look up at Miguel, tilting your head at the tub. 

“What soap do you want?” you ask.

“The one you use,” he says.

You smile and take the honey and cloves bubble bath: one of the few things you allow yourself to indulge in. Miguel tightens his hands into fists. 

“Will you join me? Not—solo para que pueda sentirte,” he clarifies. 

You soften immeasurably, reaching to remove your shirt. 

“Yeah, baby,” you say quietly. “Of course I’ll join you.”

His hands relax. 

You stand to slip off your shorts. The tub fills quickly, and it’s only another minute before you have to turn it off. The water is foamy. Steam rises, and all the mirrors fog up. Miguel silently removes his suit. You watch his back muscles shift as he gracefully steps into the water. His shoulders are strung with tension. There’s a quickly fading bruise on his right shoulder and another on the side of his ribcage. You can’t do anything except let them heal.

“Want me to wash your hair?” you ask as he settles in the water, barely sloshing any.

“Okay,” he murmurs. 

You start to climb in behind him, equally bare, but Miguel stops you with a hand on your thigh. 

“¿Puedes hacerlo frente a mí, por favor?”

He looks up at you. A dark curl has fallen out of place, sitting over his eyebrow. It makes him look so young. He is young. You forget that sometimes. 

“Sure, honey,” you say, changing your position. “Sorry.” 

He shakes his head. “No es nada.”

You take the little cup you keep on the edge of the tub and scoop water. You shield Miguel’s eyes as you wet his hair, pushing the water back over his scalp. Then you take the shampoo, lathering some between your palms. Miguel bows his head forward so you can reach. His hands creep to your waist again, more solid in their hold this time. You can feel the blunt divots where his talons rest in his fingers. They trace tiny circles on your skin. He’s trying to ground himself.

“Do you remember when we first met?” you ask.

Miguel snorts. “How could I forget? I was such a tonto that day.”

“You were not!” you insist, smiling. 

“I was. I can’t believe you agreed to a date with me.”

“Well, I don’t know why that’s so hard to believe. I was very charmed by you, O’Hara. Still am.”

You fill the cup with water and cover Miguel’s eyes again as you rinse the shampoo out. You gently scrunch definition back into his waves. His hand slides up your back and Miguel pulls you into him, so your chest is against his. He rests his chin lightly on your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his neck in response. 

“I missed you,” he says into your skin.

“You saw me this morning, mi amor.”

“I know.”

Miguel is warm and all-encompassing. You lightly massage the base of his scalp, nose pressed to his hair. He smells like the both of you. 

“Yo no sería nada sin ti,” he says.

“That’s not true,” you say, squeezing his shoulder. “Not true, Miggy.”

“Es verdad. You make me better.”

“We make each other better,” you correct. “And I have a year and a half of proof.”

Miguel sighs and it sounds a little wet. You hug him tighter.

“I got you.”

The water turns cold. Neither of you feel it, wrapped in each other.

[moodymisty]

Tumblr most likely ate it. It’s always doing stuff like that 🙄 But the request was a gender neutral reader where reader was captured and Guilliman had to choose between them and the imperium and it turns out fluffy.

Author's Note: Hey! Sorry for tumblr eating your request and taking so long, I hope this is at least somewhat worth it. I feel like given circumstances him choosing to abandon the Imperium isn't an realistic option for him, but I did what i thought would make a good compromise.

Relationships: Roboute Guilliman/Gn!Reader

Warning: Nothing really

Every astartes in the room can hear the metal of the Guilliman’s Armour Of Fate tighten and groan as he squeezes his fists; Even such meticulously designed armor is unable to stay completely unyielding against the full strength of a primarch.

“And what,” Guilliman turns to his men with a fierce gaze, one that can falter all but a few of them. “You just expect me to leave them behind?”

Sicarius looks at him stoic, as always. It makes Guilliman angrier, to not even see a hint of emotion on the man’s face. As if he has no understanding or no care as to what he just implied Guilliman do.

"The Macgragge’s Honour is needed in defense as a Tyranid hive fleet moves towards Imperium space, we can stay here no longer. Not for one person.”

One person. That one person had been the only guiding light in his life for months now, your smile is the only thing that makes him believe that perhaps his endless, tiring, tortuous work means something. He has a thing to work for; His life with you.

Guilliman keeps his face and lips tight, and only parts them to hiss out:

“Your Imperium can wait for a moment longer.”

Sicarius straightens up, even more than the rigid posture he had previous.

“Are you suggesting you would ignore a call for aid from the imperium if your consort was in danger? You would abandon all that your father has made to xenos?”

Guilliman opens his mouth. The rage he wants to spew- about his insult to you, the implication that the Emperor is his father, it is all only quelled when his vox device crackles to life.

“Lord Primarch! We found them! We’re returning to the dropship now.”

Guilliman swears he nearly feels his heart explode from hearing those words. That you’ll be safe and with him soon.

He turns to Sicarius, who is still hot in the face from Guilliman’s implications of abandoning the broader Imperium. Guilliman can see the red heat underneath his tan, olive skin.

“You best remember the words you’ve said here. I will the next time you find yourself calling for aid.”

Guilliman would never consider himself petty. But he would find it difficult to not remember this conversation if Sicarius or his men were ever in need of similar treatment as you. Perhaps he would never act upon it, but he will always remember.

With haste he struggles to remember a time he used last he makes his way to where you've been brought aboard the Macragge's honour; Bruised and cut but not much worse for wear. They've already brought this planet and it's denizens to heel, but if they had more time he would consider far worse for what they've done to you. Your wrists are still clearly raw from being chained, something that makes him grind his teeth when he notices.

But Sicarius was at least partly correct; They are needed to protect against a tyranid hive fleet, and can stay no longer.

Guilliman quickly gestures for his men to leave you both alone, and they do without pause, leaving you and him alone in the hanger in which you both stand.

Once they're gone the primarch falls to his knee with ease, and his armoured hands rise to cup your face.

"You have no idea how happy I am that you are unharmed."

His hands hold your face tightly, covering your jaw with how large they are compared to you. You smile weakly. You must be tired, but your eyes are still so bright, and your smile feels like it warms his cold, old heart.

"I'm so glad to be back with you. And I imagine you'll be better company than my captors," His face stiffens up, but he's still soft.

"You shouldn't be joking about this, you could've been killed."

You raise a hand to hold against his own gauntlet- a gesture he can feel a ghost of despite having no skin on skin contact - before reaching forward to tuck a piece of limp blonde hair behind his ear. He needs a bath, his hair is messy and limp from being in his helmet so often, but now isn't the time to say.

"You do enough of the seriousness for me. I need to balance it out; For both our sake." Guilliman shakes his head and lets out a defeated laugh.

"They wanted to leave you behind. I was considering saying damn it all to this worthless Imperium just to go get you myself." You can't contain your surprise. The Imperium is all you've ever known, how could anyone just leave it all behind?

"You're the Lord Regent, you would abandon the Imperium for-"

"I would, yes." He says with no hesitation, looking right at you. "I have no interest in saving an Imperium without you in it." He ends the conversation with that, and moves to pick you up.

"Lets go. I want to make sure you are well."

You can't make a fuss; He's made up his mind and you have no choice but to go along, holding on and relaxing in his arms as he walks off.

[majorproblems77]

Hello LU fans! I'm back with another LU update analysis! :D

Are you ready cause there's so much to unpack I'm gonna be here a while. Like last time I'm gonna put a timer on lmao, see how long this takes me.

As always grab your popcorn and drink of choice, cause we need hydration in this life.

all art belongs to @linkeduniverse and Jojo, and if I pull panels from any other pages I'll let you know where it's from! :D

Obviously spoilers for Dawn 8 :D

And a note, I've not played TP or WW, you'll see why thats important later.

Let us begin, shall we!

Man, Poor wild, he's probably beating himself up like there's no tomorrow right now. He looks HORIFIED.

Probably because in technicality, he failed.

I love how he's holding his sword here too. Kinda acting as a shield to the conversation.

Same expression as wild. He also looks horrified. Infact the resemblance between these two in uncanny.

Man time really is the dad isnt he. Unimpressed dad look at 12'oclock. Jokes aside he doesn't look angry about it. He looks like he now gathering information from those who finished the fight. As we know once he left with Twilight he was the only other one to not make it back to the fight.

Thats a fair sentence, thinking about it, I think the only other game where Iron Knuckles appear is in one of Hyrule's games? I'm surprised he's not mentioned anything about it.

Most of the others do have armoured enemies though. So while the others dont have direct experience I assume they have the basics.

All but, Sky and Wars None of them fight armoured enemies like that in their games.

I assume because he's defeated this thing like it was a guardian (Stasis and then wailing on it cause that's what i would do lmao) He assumed it was defeated when it exploded into pieces. Like guardians are prone to do. tbh he was probably gonna go back to look for loot at some point.

You tell them Wind. The small hero, underestimated by everyone BUT Time. Was correct thank you.

Justice for the windy boy.

God Wild really is beating himself up about this. I love the fact that we see four's reaction to this statement. As to be honest. Over the last few nights, Four and Wild have had plenty of bonding moments. These guys are gonna become best friends.

And now we get Time.

The way he's looking over these panels. That look. He know's he's the leader of this group but something that Time isn't used to is making Permanent mistakes.

He has the Ocarina of Time, and when he was back in Termina every time something went wrong he could just play the song of Time and restart the three-day cycle with no trouble at all.

Time, as a person. Isnt technically used to failing.

This panel is stunning. It's what I assume is going on inside his head. It's so pretty. It's so detailed it's just oh man easily one of my favourite panels.

now you know i had to talk about panels with my beloved blorbo in.

first off he's so pretty. Jojo has really outdone herself with just how amazing these updates have looked. The lighting the shading its all just so incredible.

The first half of this panel with Sky's face. He, He is beating himself up about the injury. He had nothing to do with it but he cares so much about the rest of the group he feels bad. He kinda looks like he's thinking about it. Like he can see it. Like time did but we dont see inside Sky's head.

Makes me think about what exactly he saw.

And Twilight's face, he looks so sad. His little pout. Poor wolf boy, which we can now call you properly as the rest of them know now.

And to be honest I'm glad he's standing his ground. Mr, My injury isn't that bad before falling over. the stubborn ranch hand strikes again.

The parallels from this frame and the one from later have been mentioned elsewhere but I'm just gonna post the frame here as it's turned up. Run you coward lizard. Run.

Captain link is back. Poor warriors, he's still showing signs of being stressed. He's one of the only one's who hasn't been able to rest over the downtime that they've had. He's been busy being in charge of the group while Time was out.

I can only assume it's only a matter of time before this comes back to get him. Maybe he is next on the chopping block? (Pun kinda intended) Something could happen and he messes up and gets hurt of causes someone to get hurt.

oh and also

THE SCARF

THE SCARF THE SCARF

IT HAS RETURNED ALL HAIL THE BLUE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BLANKET WARRIORS NEEDED YOU.

None of us did, Hyrule.

The boys ever, I'm glad they are talking about this like this. And that it's legend who's starting to throw ideas out there like this. As the one who's got the most experience in the group, it makes sense that he would be the one to start offering ideas as to Why not just how.

Because you pissed it off Sky. Because half of you pissed it off. In fact I do believe he had a bunch of panels in Shifting Shadows pt2 where you indeed pissed it off.

The entire reason it started running from you and Twilight had to track it was because of FI's reaction to his sword.

Wait... that explains the guilt. It is actually potentially Sky's fault. Or if he's anything like I think he is. He remembers that fight with the shadow and knows.

He knows.

Also, with clenched fist Sky is ready for a fight. Next time the shadow turns up I assume he's gonna go after it when it's inevitablebly goes after Twilight/Wild. Maybe he'll jump in after being told not too because the Master sword appears to be the only thing as of right now that can fight the red stuff that comes off the shadows sword.

did you hear Warriors shiver? I did.

And you'd know all about that wouldn't you Four. :D

Also

Mandatory Sky appreciation picture

Him's my beloved blorbo. He's wonderful. Such a lil guy. Bestest bean. My beloved. /pl

Anyway moving on

Oh yeah, the amount of power that the items list contains We've seen the arsenal that they have between them (in the December art).

We saw what just Time could do.

Now add the rest of them and the enemies dont stand a chance. They've just gotta figure out how to either avoid the weapons of each other or work as a team with the arsenal in hand to fight better.

Like imagine if Twilight used his gale boomerang to send Wild into the air.

(Writer brain go brr, gonna write that down)

It's basically Revalis Gale.

This man is so damn dramatic I love him

And here's the parallel frame

the shadow running towards Warriors vs running away from Twilight.

You know thinking about it... Shadow didn't shapeshift until Twilight did. The push towards Warriors was when shadow thought they were on level footing.

But when Twilight went after Dink, he was the one who had to flee because he lost his advantage.

ANGRY SKY ANGRY SKY ANGRY SKY

The man is pissed that Shadow hurt Twilight. He is so damn mad and I think that he is saying what he would assume Fi would. (With more emotion because well, Fi)

Also that last frame.

TIME AND SKY ANGST ON THE HORIZON?

time is looking towards the master sword. And he looks angry. This will absolutely have gone unnoticed by the others because if they saw he was angry it was probably just because of the conversation topic.

god I love the dynamic here and I'm excited to see if it goes anywhere

Him's I love his simple way of agreeing its wonderful.

I approve to wind let's go blow some stuff up!

Hyrule shows the group why he is called the traveller. The man just wants to go on his adventures let him go!

Sky is so proud of himself

this face says 'Look guys I didn't give it to the weird toilet hand! :D'

I love this man a healthy amount.

One last thing before I go

I love this update as a whole, seeing the group gear up and getting to see the layers of the armour and straps and fastenings being put on while they are having this discussion is amazing.

I'd give you a collection of pictures but Tumblr is being rude and I can't post more than 30. So you can have these as all four panels show what I'm talking about.

Twilight adjusting his gauntlets warriors adjusting his scarf.

Hyrule attaching his shield to his back and putting his sword strap on.

God, I love this update so much. It was amazing and I very much enjoyed it. Let me know what you think! :D

Thank you as ever for reading my rambles i appreciate you :D

Have a wonderful day and dont forget to hydrate! See you next time!

[lemonwood31]

This is not so much an analysis as an appreciation post: I don't think I'm saying anything that hasn't already been said, and it's mostly just some general long-winded appreciative flailing. This time about my absolute favourite aspect of Halsin's character: his self-confidence. 

I absolutely see Halsin's self-confidence and his emotional vulnerability as two sides of the same coin: barring a few moments when he's genuinely taken by surprise (like accidentally wildshaping during sex), I see most of Halsin's vulnerable moments as risks that he's taking deliberately, and that takes a lot of guts. It interests me that those moments start very early on in your time with him; he doesn't strike me as particularly testing the waters with you to see if it's safe to open up, and then becoming more willing to be vulnerable as he gets to know you better; he's just... up front about his feelings and his doubts, right from the beginning. Like, if you're willing to ask a genuine question about what he thinks or feels, then he's going to respond with honesty, even if he doesn't know you very well. 

So, as much as I adore emotionally-vulnerable Halsin, that aspect of his personality (for me! I don't think there's any such thing as the One Correct Take!) is on a continuum with self-confident Halsin. 

Halsin who will talk to you about his doubts about his leadership ability, but also stands by his decisions: he doesn't give two shits what you, a person he's just met, think of his decision about Kagha, to the point that if you approve of it in a way he finds condescending, he literally tells you 'I'm glad you approve, but I don't care'. 

Halsin who is surprised you're interested, and shows it, when you ask about his likes and dislikes, but also refuses to feel embarrassed or apologise for using nature metaphors and talking about the Shadow Curse a lot, and has some fairly strong lines to tell people off about it when they try to suggest he should. 

Halsin who is nervous to tell you he's interested in you, and admits it (which again, takes a lot of guts), but who, before that moment, has a bunch of flirty lines with you where he basically lets on he's interested but is biding his time ('Not what. Who. But all in due course.' I have never in my life fallen harder or faster for a fictional character than when he said that to my Tav on my first playthrough), lines which speak, I think, to the fact that understandable nervousness aside, he really does know what he's doing in romantic situations; there's a quiet, restrained deliberateness about that flirting, on a par with the deliberateness I think he approaches most situations with. 

Halsin who may well not have fully dealt with his time as a sex slave, but who responds to your scepticism about whether he's processed it by hearing you out, admitting you have a point, but also (I think) not just adopting your view of the situation as his own, and instead resolving to take some time to reflect on it, to try it on for size and see how it fits in with his own views and recollections. 

Halsin who can struggle in social situations, and has been hurt a lot by other people's cruelty or indifference, and has led a life curtailed by his guilt and grief over the Shadow Curse, but has also lived for 350 goddamn years and had time to develop a whole lot of wisdom and perspective. Who has been a leader for a hundred of those years, and despite his doubts and failings has had a lot of experience with it, and probably has a keener sense of his failings because he's had so much experience of watching his own decisions play out and knows intimately, now, how much of leadership is about trade-offs and least worst options. Who is always, when it comes down to it, completely, unapologetically himself, even when other people don't like it, even when it might be convenient to pretend otherwise, even when he's risking being hurt again by doing so. It takes a lot of confidence to be that true to yourself, I think.

[narcissistshandler]

I don't know if you are taking requests for the spiderverse, if not you can ignore me, but if so could you write afab!hobie being eaten out for the first time by the reader?

𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝘼𝙂𝘼𝙄𝙉

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. gn!reader x hobie brown

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. afab!hobie brown, reader has no gender or genitals mentioned, clitoris/lips/folds words used to refer to hobie's genital organ, oral (reader giving), hobie having some insecure thoughts at first, virgin hobie(?)

✧ 𝖠/𝖭. I wrote this request in 30 minutes and honestly? Anxiety doesn't allow me to reread what I write many times, but I really liked it here and I can't stop rereading it, thanks for the request and trans people please feel free to correct me if this offends anyone, it's not my intention.

Heat warms Hobie's skin, making the clothes uncomfortable and the way you are positioned perfectly between his legs, kissing him while rocking your hips together doesn't help. He knows he's already wet from just that, you know it too, there's a stain getting bigger and darker on his pants.

Hobie can't decide whether or not he's glad he decided not to wear underwear today.

Your mouth pulls away, breaking the kiss. A magnet seems to pull your bodies together and neither of you makes a move to put an inch more than necessary between you. You both take a deep breath, seeking for oxygen against each other's lips. It's something simple, damn simple and yet, it makes that excitement bubble in his stomach.

So is this, Hobie thinks, what it feels like to be loved?

"I want to suck you," you say and Hobie's head spins. He must be crazy, he must be dreaming, completely out of his mind because there's no way you would want to touch his body in such a way, but then you're repeating, louder and clearer: "I want to put my mouth on you, I can?"

Hobie takes even deeper breaths, shivering. He thought about it over and over again, you between his legs, your fingers on him, your tongue... and maybe something else. But Hobie never genuinely clarified these desires, he joked and made innuendoed at times filled with an unusual sense of lack of confidence.

Your hands tightened firmly around his waist and you pulled away, now really putting some real distance between you. Hobie immediately grabbed the hands still on his waist, he didn't want you to leave but you just pulled away to get a real look into his eyes.

"You can say no if you don't want to, that's fine," you said.

"I want it," he admitted, feeling his black skin ignite. Hobie didn't know how to say he wanted this more than anything. "Put your mouth on me."

He had never done this before, no one had ever volunteered. You barely started taking his pants off and Hobie thought he was in heaven, that was it, you were his heaven.

The fresh air in the room made him more aware of the mess between his legs and Hobie made two feeble attempts to stop himself from covering his face; he needed to look at you, to know you were okay with this. You however looked mesmerized, hands stroking his tense thighs.

"You are breathtaking." There's pure adoration in your voice and Hobie feels himself tighten under your gaze.

Your fingers are careful but firm when touches his wet folds, Hobie moans at the feeling of someone else touching him in such an intimate place. Your fingers travel between the soft lips, running up and down unhurriedly, mapping his body, his reactions, before running the index finger over the swollen, sensitive clit, that throbs under your attention. 

"Beautiful," you compliment, before warning, sounding so sweet and filthy at the same time: "I'm going to put my mouth on you now."

Hobie can't take his attention away from you as he tries to mentally prepare himself for what's to come next. But nothing can prepare him for the hot, devastating sensation that is when your mouth closes and your tongue slides against him for the first time. His legs start to shake, nothing in the world is enough to anchor him, his head falls against the pillow and Hobie faintly hears the sounds he's making.

You eat him, hungry and Hobie wishes he could immortalize this moment.

Your tongue exploring every fold and crevice, lapping up his intoxicating essence. Your moans mingle with his own, reverberating against his heat. Hobie's hand sneaks down to your head, fingers tangling in a painful tug in your hair, the hesitation fades and gives way to pleasure, the urge to take you deeper into his core. You oblige, thrusting your tongue inside him with fervor, swirling it around and curling against his lick walls.

With each flick of your tongue, each gentle bite of your teeth, Hobie shudders in delight, hips undulating against your face. He's loud, moaning, whimpering, saying something that could be your name or just a jumble of letters that seem to make sense. His scent, his taste, permeate your senses, is all Hobie can think of. Of you giving him such pleasure, of you seeming to enjoy it so much.

Mind spinning with ecstasy, body lost in a cacophony of moans and pleasured gasps, he doesn't notice the heat bubbling to bursting, doesn't notice the orgasm threatening to knock him out of consciousness. Hobie straddles your face, his wetness coating your lips, mingling with your saliva. His hips sway, grinding against your mouth as you eagerly lick and suck his swollen clit, helping him ride the pleasure.

His hands grip your hair, strong legs wrapped around your neck, pulling and tugging with each joyful spasm that wracks his body. He gasps as if it's hard to breathe and his orgasm seems to last forever.

At some point, your mouth left him and now your lips are on his sweaty neck and face, saying words Hobie can't understand, pressing your bodies so close while your skilled fingers tease and torment his clit, amplifying the waves of pleasure that goes through his body. You pleasure him until it's too much, until Hobie decides it's enough, the problem is he's afraid he wants it forever, him belonging to you, you touching him; over and over and over again.