#trying to focus on the two main rooms for now... and then the smaller room to add a bed

[alcyonsa]

In the middle of decorating my Orbiter... it's taking forever...

at least aiden got his little depression corner <//3

[loverslodge]

not my professor

summery: Ari falls in love with a girl who studies in the same university has him.

pairing: professor!ari Levinson x reader

warnings: fluff, SMUT, swearing, size kink, begging, age gap (reader is mid 20s and Ari is mid 30s)

A/N: i am slut for Ari Levinson

Ari didn't think that your presence would affect him that much. But he did this on purpose this time. He promised himself he won't but the heart wants what the heart wants.

He first saw you in the main cafeteria. You were getting yourself two large hot chocolates with five packets of sugar each to go. You looked calm but the amount of hot chocolates you were going to consume said otherwise. He found it amusing. He unknowingly followed you but sat close to hear what you were talking to your friends.

“You’re gonna kill yourself with that much amount of sugar and hot chocolate.” Your friend tried to throw away your packets of sugar.

“Then at least I will die happy.” You hide your sugar packets in your jacket.

Ari found it funny. He was worried about you, yes but he found you funny and witty. He didnt see you the rest of the day after you left for your class, only to catch a glance of you leaving the campus.

…………………….

The next time he saw you was when you were in the book nook for your department. His office was moved in that room with two other professors who, he didn't know, were your professors.

He got to know about your focus when you were exiting the office of one of your professors with a friendly smile on your face. He found out you were a masters student and you were there for just one more year.

He was relieved that you were here only for a year but it also came as a jerking shock to him that if he wanted to know you, he didn't have time.

You were not part of his focus. You were nowhere near him but he was still a professor. The only way of knowing you was by a chance encounter or a social event where you would want to attend.

He was struggling. He was never the one to struggle. He always had it easy with women because he was the one being approached and not the other way around.

To him, this was all new because not only did he want to know you but also the important fact that you were unaware of his existence. He wanted you to know about him, think about him and spend time with him.

Seeing you so close to his office created weird feelings in him. He hadn't seen you smile. Now he had. He wanted to reserve that smile. The way your eyes crinkled and grew smaller when you smiled crinkled his own heart. His blue eyes got wide and dark just seeing you smile, imagining what else he was missing out.

You were so close to his office that all he had to do was open the door and he could easily pull you in. He shook his head, trying to remove the arousing thoughts out of his head.

You waved at someone and you immediately left the room, leaving him with those thoughts he had to manage behind the desk, thinking about his boring lecture.

…………………..

“Hi! I am looking for this book but i cannot find it in the shop. Can you check if you have it?” He heard a very familiar voice near him.

He turned around to see you standing in the bookstore, looking for a book. His heart raced. It was like the universe was sending him a chance. He was going to grab this chance by the throat and choke in.

He followed you to the shelf where you were told you would find your book. He wasn't being creepy, at least that’s what he thought. He was going to approach you today.

He saw you peruse books after grabbing the one you needed. He had seen you scrunch your nose in disapproval when you had picked the book reluctantly. It was part of your assignment and not a book you would ever want to read, you knew that book was definitely going to get gifted to someone as a birthday present.

He saw you step into the romance section and he saw your eyes sparkle with joy. He saw you pick so many romance books, only to put them back because you couldn't afford to buy them all. He saw you eye them sadly. He would buy them all for you, he thought.

You were about to leave the store when  a surge of courage stepped in him. “Hey.”

You turned around with eyes wide. You thought you had stepped in the person’s way or something. Why else would a man that tall and that attractive talk to you? “Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be in your way.”

“Oh no! You're not in my way. I just- I have seen you around the university and wanted to introduce myself.” He stepped a little closer to you, enough to not invade your personal space. “I'm Ari.”

“Oh, um- i’m-” you were a stuttering mess but you managed to say your name. He found it adorable seeing how pink your cheeks had turned.

“Can I see what book you have?”

“Yeah. If you want it, I can give it to you after next week.” You were too eager to get rid of the book.

“Sure. I can give this back to you after I'm done reading.” Ari wanted a reason to see you again.

“Oh no! I'm asking you to keep it. I, um, I don't like this book. It's not really, uh, my style.”

“Oh! But what if I want to see you again after this? How will I find you then?” Ari was done playing around. He went straight for the kill.

“Oh!” Your shock was very evident to him. “I, uh, you want to see me again?”

“Yeah. You are pretty and I would like to get to know you.” Ari really wanted to approach you slowly but his brain short circuited when he talked to you.

Your wide innocent eyes and your soft voice was killing him. He wanted to tell you how much he liked you but he knew it was too soon.

“You think I'm pretty?” You never thought of yourself as a pretty person. This was the first time someone had called you pretty. Your cheeks tinted with more pink and you look down, unable to look into his captivating blue eyes.

“Real pretty.” Ari walked a little closer to you. You made no effort to create space between the two of you. “But, I have to tell you something, honestly. Will you listen?”

You look back to him and give him a nod, your eyes full of anticipation. “I am actually a professor in your university. I saw you in the main cafeteria but I couldn't just approach you.”

You couldn't tell him that your insides were melting. Not just because he was bigger, taller and prettier than you but also because he was a professor. Not yours though, you knew all of your professors. But he was one and all your bottled up fantasies were slowly opening up.

“A professor?” You tried to act as cool as you could.

“Not your department though.” Ari got defensive. He didn't want to think that there was no chance. He was worried there would be an immediate rejection without a consideration.

You just looked at him with wide eyes. You were trying to process a lot of things at once. One of which was climbing him like a tree.

“This is coming off as creepy. I'm sorry. I'll just go.” Ari was ready to leave. Your silence was enough to tell him he was rejected. He didn't want to push it.

“No! Wait! I'm sorry. I just- you're gorgeous. It's hard to think someone like you would be interested in me.” You held his wrist and you were trying to scramble together your thoughts. “It's- I don't mind that you are a professor. I'm just, um, not good at social interactions. Also, I have never had someone ask me out before, openly, so, uh, i'm sorry you felt rejected.”

His wrist was burning with your touch. It was as if he was getting electrocuted. He walked closer to you and he saw your eyes darken and dilate for a few seconds before they turned back to their innocent selves.

“So you are not rejecting my advances?” Ari wanted a verbal confirmation from you. When you nod, he lifts your chin up. “I want your words. Give me your consent, please.” Ari practically begged for you.

“I am not rejecting your advances.” Your soft tone caught him and he was elated. If he was in the privacy of his office or his home, he surely would have yelped in cheer.

He hummed in happiness and brought out his hand for you to hold. You looked at his hand quizzingly and took your hand to hold. You were a blushing mess. His hand was so much bigger than yours. Your mind was going on overdrive. He chuckled when he saw you trying to hide your red face. He was going to love making you blush everyday now.

…………………….

He wanted exclusivity. He was too afraid to ask. What if it is too soon? You have been dating for over two months. You went to his office once, because you were worried your professors would see you and ask questions and you had no answers.

This was your second time visiting his office. He had told you that you were allowed at any time to find peace. You liked that. You liked to read in silence and his office really was perfect. You were working on your creative writing pieces and so you thought his office would be the perfect destination for that.

You grabbed your hot chocolate from the cafeteria and took the elevator to his floor. You opened his office doors and there he was, staring at his computer with glasses on and his hair flowing. If your pussy was a faucet, it would be leaking.

“Hi.” You set your things down on the coffee table across his desk.

He looked up and a very loving smile spread across his face. He looked stressed, he was stressed, but seeing you made everything so much better. He opened his arms, inviting you.

You walked up to him and stood between his manspread. Your knees touched the edge of the chair and his arms wrapped around your waist. You automatically cup his cheeks and your thumbs started smoothening the mild dark circles under his eyes. He closed his eyes to savour that moment with you. You have a small smile on your face and so does he.

“Can I, uh, ask you something?” Your soft voice opened his eyes. There was a hesitation in your eyes and voice. Your hands had left his face and were fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. He sat straight in the chair but he still held onto you.

“What is it, baby? Talk to me.”

“Not to pressure you. I was just, I know it's too soon, but, um…” Ari held your hands and caressed your knuckles. You took a deep breath and looked into his eyes with what looked like determination. “Can we, uhm, be, um, together?”

“But we are together, baby.”

“No. Not like that. I mean, um… uh, never mind. It's fine.” You tried to walk away but he tugged on your hand and settled you on his lap. You yelped in surprise and tried to wriggle out but he tightened his hold on your waist. You huffed out.

“Baby, don't shy away. I think I know what you want to say. I was thinking the same thing.” He played with your fingers on your lap and kissed your cheek.

“How do you know what I was thinking? You're not a mind reader.”

“I don't have to be a mind reader to know that you want me to be your boyfriend. Exclusively.” Ari brushed your hair back.

You gasped and then scrunched up your nose in disgust and then chuckled. “Eww. it feels weird to call you boyfriend. You're a man not a boy.”

“That’s the issue? That I'm a man?” Ari lifted up his eyebrows. He was in a teasing mode now.

You hit him lightly on the chest, earning a light chuckle from him. “You know that is not what I meant. But, to answer your question, yes, I would love to be your girlfriend. Exclusively.”

“Oh so that's how this is going to be. You're in charge.” Ari pulled you even closer by your waist and cupped your neck.

His lips were hovering over yours, looking for permission. Your smile faded as your eyes darkened. You liked this. Being in charge but also letting him take charge. You seal the deal with a kiss. You cupped his cheeks and pulled him closer as your lips worked well with his.

His hand from your waist slipped into your shirt to hold your back. You hum into the kiss and he angled his head for a better angle. This is why he loved having you in his office. He can kiss you any time.

You pulled away slowly, resting your forehead against his and breathing heavily. Ari had that tendency on you. He always took your breath away. You were so close to saying ‘i love you’ to him but held back. It was too soon.

You pecked his lips again and got up to work on your writing. He looked at you for some time and then went back to grading.

…………………….

Six months of your relationship with Ari had flown by. All in all, eight months since you first met Ari. He was a very understanding man. You were very stressed with your semester and had no time except several makeout sessions in his office.

You had fallen in love with him. He was caring, kind, understanding and above all, he held almost all of your fantasies. You had not revealed it to him obviously. Who in their right mind would tell their boyfriend that she would like him to go feral on her or that she would like it if he ate her out for hours.

Ari had noticed some things though. He had seen how when he did certain things, your eyes darkened with lust. He was impressed by the amount of control you had. He hadn't touched you intimately. He had wanted to, so bad, but he wanted you to initiate.

The fall semester was over and the winter break was here. You weren't going home because of your internship. You had told Ari about it. When he got to know you got the internship of your dreams, he had bought your favourite cake and cooked your favourite cuisine at his apartment.

You had brought a wine bottle to match the cuisine and you had stayed over at his place for the weekend. You were a bit disappointed that he didn't do anything except cuddle and kiss but you were also glad he was letting you take the lead.

All of your roommates had left for the winter and you were alone. It was a big ass apartment and staying alone got a bit creepy. You mustered courage to ask Ari if you could stay with him that winter. He had said yes.

Ari had hid his enthusiasm really well when you initiated something. He picked you up from your place and went back to his place with a stop at the local Target to grab more snacks and food you liked. Not that he didn't already have his place stocked with your things. You liked wine so he insisted on buying at least 3 bottles which sounded ridiculous to you but he had bought them behind your back.

You had shared his room and his bed before so it wasn't a problem. He had actually bought a new dresser for your clothes saying he was going to buy one anyway your reason was just an added bonus.

He also bought a big standing mirror and a vanity table for you which made you blush even more. You hardly used makeup because of your anti-social nature but he still considered the possibility and that won over your heart even more. His consideration was making you hornier or you were just done with your periods. Who's to say which is which.

Ari helped you unpack your things. You had grown more comfortable around him but you still blushed heavily from time to time and he loved that he still affected you.

Ari saw you buzz around the apartment and put your things beside his, making it feel more at home. After unpacking your things, the place felt more lived in and he loved that. Maybe he should ask you to move in? But he should say he loves you first. Or should the both of you just get naked and have each other all over the apartment? Ari was thinking too much.

You both were tired so after dinner it was straight to bed. It felt very domestic. You loved it. You snuggled into Ari’s chest and he pulled you closer than ever. Both of you sighed in relief in a sync and sleep enveloped, leaving all those extra thoughts for the next whole month.

You had woken up all warm, toasty and horny, thanks to your large boyfriend. He had no right to look that hot and bear-like in the morning. You wiggled your way out of the bed and cleaned yourself up. You wanted to make breakfast for him. The first ever.

Ari wanted to see your face the first thing he woke up but instead he saw an empty bed. He sprung up thinking that yesterday was a dream till he heard light singing in the kitchen. He cleaned himself up and followed the voice to the kitchen.

The sight he saw made his heart skip several beats. You were singing along one of your playlists and dancing a little while flipping pancakes. He felt like this is the moment he would want to live again and again for the rest of his life. Your soft voice singing stirred places in him that shouldn’t stir.

“Morning, baby. What are you making?” Ari announced his arrival before he wrapped his arms around your waist.

You squeak in surprise but regain composure. “Morning, babe. I'm making pancakes. A lot of ‘em. I thought we could have brunch instead of breakfast.”

“Sounds fun.” He trailed kisses all over your neck. Soft moans escape your lips and you lean further into him.

“Ari…”

“I love you, baby,” Ari whispered in your ears.

“I love you too, babe.” You were a blushing mess but you finally said it. It felt like a boulder was lifted off your heart. “I've been meaning to say that for so long. But I thought it was too soon so I held myself back.”

“Nothing you do too soon, baby. I too wanted to say it long ago but I thought you wouldn't like it.” Ari moves away from you and you turn to him.

“We've got to stop thinking that it's too soon. Nothing is when it comes to us, right?” You cup his face and peck his lips. You turn back to finish the last of the pancakes.

“You are always right, baby. Now let's eat. You sit and I'll grab the juice and syrup.”

The brunch went by peacefully and now you had enough courage to ask him to get you off. Honestly, you found it embarrassing in yourself that you had to masturbate when you had such a hot boyfriend at your disposal. His thick fingers had to be put to better use than making a class schedule.

He was working on the sofa and you approached him with hands on your back. You were so nervous, you didn't want him to know that you were fiddling with your fingers.

“Do you want something, baby?” Ari does not look up from his laptop but he can sense you have a question.

“Canyoueatmeoutandhelpmegetoff?”

“What?” Ari swore he heard something really provocative come out of your mouth but he wanted to confirm. He always paid attention to what you said but with the speed you used, he wanted you to verbalize it again.

You took a deep breath and tried to look him in the eye but couldn't. “Can you eat me out and help me get off?” You practically whispered.

But Ari heard you, loud and clear. He threw his laptop on the sofa. He walked to you and hoisted you on his shoulder like a sack and gently laid you on the bed.

“I want you to tell me if you feel uncomfortable. I will stop. No hard feelings, okay?” Ari was hovering above you. It was turning you on seeing how large he looked.

You nodded but he tsked. “I need words, baby. I am not doing anything until you verbalize yourself. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He cupped your cheek and pulled you in for a hot searing kiss. Your hands wrap around his neck and hair while he starts wandering his hands all over you. You squirmed when you felt his hands on your exposed waist. You hadn't realized he had lifted your t-shirt to expose your stomach.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want clothes on or off?”

“Um, off?”

“Are you confused, baby? If you're not ready, I will get you off with clothes on, it's fine and if you want to get off alone, I will go to the living room.”

“I want you. I really do. You make me so horny. Your thick fingers, larger than life body and your kissable lips makes me want to do so much but then i become so conscious about how i look and you wont like it. But I desperately want your fingers inside me, your lips on me and your body crushing the life out of me. Please.”

“My god, baby! Why didn't you say you were in so much need? You are beautiful with clothes and you will be even more beautiful without them. I don't love you just for your body but also because of that smart brain of yours.”

Ari removed his shirt and his pants, standing before you in just his boxers. “Now, let me help you out of your clothes so I can fulfill that fantasy of yours.”

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts and dragged them down along with your drenched panty. He held back the need to dive between your legs since he wanted to take it slow for you. He tried not to touch you till he had your t-shirt and bra off.

He let himself tower over you and let you take him in. a whimpered moan escaped your lips seeing him so big all ready to please you. “I'm going to touch you everywhere, baby. Yes?”

A breathy yes fell out of your mouth and his hands cupped your breasts. “Kiss me again, Ari, baby, please.”

He let himself fall on you, trying not to crush you entirely and pulled you in for another searing kiss. This time he had no clothing getting in the way so he started kneading your breasts and pinched your nipples. You moaned in his mouth and bucked your hips up to try and grind against him.

Ari trailed his lips and kisses along your neck and collarbone. You held the back of his head and guided him where you wanted his lips and he let you. Today was about pleasing you and he was going to let you take the lead. He did not leave any part of without a kiss but he also tried to hold back marking you.

“Will you mark me, Ari? Please? Mark me as yours.” You whined so well for him. Your demand spurred Ari to a frenzy. He latched his lips to your neck and sucked and bit till he was certain he left a significant number of marks.

He trailed down to your breasts that were kneaded well. He also marked your breasts as his and sucked your nipples so well. You were a whimpering and moaning mess. While your one hand was buried deep in Ari’s hair, the other was clutching the bedsheet.

You were dribbling out of your pussy and Ari was taking notice of it. “Baby, I'm moving down. I can't let you go to waste, now can i?”

You couldn't form words and whimpered yes barely fell out of you. Ari hummed on your lips, giving you one last kiss before moving down, between your legs. He even left marks on your inner thighs.

He had seen you dribble all over the bedsheet and he was pleased that he was the one making your pussy crave. After leaving one last kiss on your thigh and he dove right in to devour you.

You moan Ari’s name out loud and clutch the bedsheet tightly, arching yourself off the bed. Ari pushed your legs around his shoulder to get into a better position and laid down on his stomach. He wrapped his arms around your legs to keep you from squirming away.

He was loving this. He had been craving this. He had been dreaming about this since he met you. Seeing you writhing under him while he devours you was his very first fantasy.

He was taking his sweet time. He licked, sucked and kissed your pussy very slowly, savouring every moment. You whined and whimpered, making him smirk. He let his tongue play with your clit every now and then, increasing your simulation.

“Please.” The words barely came out of your mouth. The knot in your stomach tightened and you gripped his hair. You adjusted his head to focus on your clit and he readily agreed.

“Gonna cum, baby?” Ari kept on fucking you over his mouth.

“Yes, please Ari. I'm gonna cum. Please.”

He increased his speed and the knot broke, making you convulse and arch on the bed with Ari lapping up all the juice you released. He drank up every last drop you had to offer. When your body rested back on the bed, you realized you had been crushing Ari in between your thighs.

“Oh I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.” You tried to sit up and move but your weakened body and Ari’s hold on you made you lay back in the position.

“That was fucking sexy, baby. You can crush me between your thighs any time.” Ari sat up on his haunches and grabbed the bottle of water from the bedside and gave it to you.

“Now, are you still willing to have my fingers inside you after this or do you want to do it tomorrow?” Ari didn't want to overwhelm you.

“Maybe you can use your fingers some other time but I want something else right now.” You had received a boost of confidence after the mind-blowing session.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Ari brought his hands to your cheeks and caressed them lightly. He loved how fucked out you looked, all thanks to him.

“I want you in me.” You sat up and grabbed the waistband of Ari’s boxers, trying to pull them down.

“Are you sure? This is a bigger deal than my fingers.” Ari wanted you to make a confident decision.

“Oh I'm counting on it to be bigger.” You pulled his boxers down and gasped. He really was bigger. You gulped and looked at him and a small smirk came on his face.

Ari let you get rid of his boxers and he was back sitting in between your legs. “I will ask again, baby, are you sure?”

“Yes Ari, I am sure. I have been wanting you for a while and if I don't do it now, I am pretty sure I will take a few more months and I don't want that. I want you. Now.”

Ari leaned over his bedside table to grab condoms but you held his hand and shook your head. “No. I want to feel you, Ari. take me raw. Please.” You gave him your best pout to which he sighed and retracted.

“As you wish.”

Ari sat back and brought your pussy closer to his cock. Your pussy juice was giving him enough lubrication. He rubbed his cock on your folds a few times. You whine and pout at him. You were being impatient and Ari loved seeing you beg for him.

Ari very slowly slid his tip into you. You gasped. He slid further in and he saw you arching your back, matching his speed as a loud moan escaped your mouth. He jerked you on him a little and your ass met his thighs, hilting the cock deep into you. He waited for you to get adjusted to him.

Ari looked at you to get some sort of response. Your eyes were closed as you relished in being filled by Ari. “You can move now, Ari. I'm okay.”

He moved again and he still maintained the slow pace that he had set. You moaned and whimpered but you needed something more. You were not able to think what but that only made you whine louder.

“What do you want, baby? Why are you being whiny?” Ari maintained the slow pace, he slowed it down even more and you whined again.

Ari caught on to what you wanted but he wanted to experiment. He moved out of you, leaving just his bulbous tip in you and slammed into you with speed. You moaned his name loudly and arched your back and went crashing back down.

He sped up into you and you groaned feeling satisfied with the manner. But in the middle of a fast thrust, Ari slowed down again. Your eyes met his and you saw a glint of playfulness in them. You tried to wriggle out of his hold.

You made a plan that if he wanted to play then he would learn a lesson to not mess when you were horny for him.

Ari caught onto you again and tightened his hold around your thighs. During this time, your legs were wrapped around his waist which was advantageous to him now. You whined again and he stopped completely.

“Your whines are not going to get you fucked, baby. Use your words.”

“Please Ari.” You were slightly overstimulated which made tears fall, covering your face.

“Please what, baby.”

“Fuck me harder please, Ari. don't go slow. I'm very needy for you.”

“Now that wasn't hard to say, was it, baby?”

You started fucking into faster and harder. He leaned over and crushed you under him while he kept on digging himself into you.

“Oh f-f-fuck! Ari! You fill me up! This is so good! Fill me up s’good, Ari! Fuck!”

His lips on yours and he kept the pace, drowning your moans into his mouth. The kiss was sloppy and none of you cared. Your breasts were entirely pressed against his chest and the rubbing of your sensitive nipples against his chest spurred you on even more.

Ari’s cock was being tightly clenched by your walls and he let out a loud moaning groan. “Fuck, baby. You're milking me so well.” He thrusted even deeper. “Make me cum, baby. Milk my cock.”

The knot in your stomach got tighter. “Cum in me, Ari. please.”

“Fuck.” Ari sped up his thrusts and brought his hand to rub your clit. His thrusts got sloppier to tell you that he’s almost there and your walls got tighter around him that told him you were close too.

“Cum, baby. Cum for me.” You spasmed on the bed as you found your release and ropes of his cum filled your tight pussy up.

He felt boneless and he just fell on you, crushing you under him. His cock was stirring in you, releasing the last of his cum. Your hands went to his hair and his back, caressing him and soothing him from the high. He hissed in a slight pain but then remembered why. You had, without realizing, scratched up his back with your nails, not that he minded. He loved this wild side of yours.

You might not tell him, but he knew his strength and so he slipped out of you, making you whimper and rolled to the side. His cum dripped out of your pussy and that sight alone could’ve made him hard if he had not seen your fucked out and tired face. Your eyes were completely glazed over and your limp hand was reaching for him.

“Baby, let's get you cleaned up. Then I can cuddle up to you.” Ari got up from the bed and turned on the shower and brought it to a warmer temperature that would help you soothe.

He carried you to the shower and held you, bathed you. You did the same to him, at least trying. He cleaned himself off and you. He dried you with your towel and he dried himself off with his and sat you down on a comfy armchair in the room while he changed the sheets. You tried to help him but he shushed you and forced you to sit down.

He brought you to bed and cuddled you after making you drink ample water. You weren't going to sleep, he knew that, no matter how tired you were. Why? Because you were sometimes neurotic and it was not time to sleep.

“I'll fall asleep at this rate. Let's order dinner and then cuddle.” You sat up and turned to him. None of you had bothered to get dressed and your marked up body was fully visible to him. He was pleased with himself.

“Okay. let's get dressed and ill order us some pizza?” You nodded and you both got up.

He saw your naked self walk closer to the mirror and look at all the love bites he had left on you. The bright smile on your face, seeing you marked by Ari made him melt. He had never thought he would see a girl so pleased with his work.

After dinner, you both cuddled up in bed. He was playing with your fingers and you slowly hummed yourself to sleep. He looked at you and kissed your forehead, letting sleep catch up to him too.

…………………….

Time flew faster and you had moved in with Ari. you were working in the publishing house you’ve been wanting to and Ari had become a tenured professor at your alma mater.

It had been a year and a half since you graduated and moved in with Ari. your parents had met him and they liked him, even with the age difference between the two of you.

You wanted to get married to Ari. You had admitted that to yourself a month ago.

Ari wanted to get married to you. He finally had the courage to ask that to you after almost four years of togetherness. You will say three but he begs to differ but at the end of it all he always says that you are right.

You were out shopping for new books again with him. You were looking through the books when a gorgeous cover attracted you. You pulled it out and looked at it. It was a hardcover and it had beautiful art design on it of a couple in their coziest outfits. The title of the book said ‘Will You Marry Me?’

The couple on the book cover looked eerily similar but you paid no attention. You opened the book to see two rings laying in it. You gasped. You were about to put the book away when you felt a familiar pair of arms around your waist.

“The question is for you, baby.”

“Do I get to keep the book? Or is it the case? Whatever it is, do I get to keep it?”

“That's more important than the actual question?”

“Obviously! It's gorgeous. I'm not going to throw it away.”

“Yes, of course you get to keep it. It's yours. Now, answer the question, baby.”

“I thought the answer was obvious.”

“How?”

“I asked to keep the book.”

Ari turned you around and kissed you deeply and passionately in the bookstore, with no care of who was watching. He gave you a huge smile and slipped the ring on your finger and you did the same.

“Thank you for getting a ring for yourself too.”

“Of course, I knew you would have dragged me to the jeweler to get a matching one for me.”

“I want the world to know that Professor Ari Levinson is no longer up for grabs.”

“Point taken, Mrs. Levinson.”

[wheresarizona]

Thunder (only happens when it’s rainin’)

summary: In the middle of the night, during a bad thunderstorm, Javier helps you through a fear-induced panic attack. 

rating: T (Javier POV, age gap (about ten years), Husband Javier Peña, panic attack (physical descriptions only), emotional hurt/comfort, Javier calming you down, thunderstorm, banter, domestic fluff, suggestive mention of Javier’s dick, Javier offering to help you fall back asleep by either reading you The Fellowship of the Ring or a smutty book)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (a nurse with no physical descriptions)

word count: 1.2k+

a/n: This can be read as a standalone or part of the Learning to Live ‘verse—in LTL, it takes place a few months after their wedding. This one goes out to the anon who asked how Javi would help Cielito through a panic attack. He’d use this method or a variation of it any time she has a panic/anxiety attack. This is unbeta’d; all mistakes are my own. 

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

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Laredo, Texas - March, 1999

The window-shaking boom of thunder isn’t what has Javier jolting awake in bed and bolting upright to turn on his bedside lamp. It’s the blood-curdling scream beside him that’s like a shot of adrenaline with how it wakes him from the dead of sleep with his heart pounding and has him blearily looking around the dimly lit room for any sign of danger. 

Their bedroom door is still closed, and there are no intruders; rain can be heard battering against their windows, and when he focuses on his wife next to him, she’s also sitting up, worry cutting through him at how her breaths are coming out too fast and shallow as she hyperventilates, and tears stain her cheeks—she’s having a panic attack, triggered by the storm. Where she grew up, it rains the majority of the year, but they don’t have many thunderstorms, unlike right now when it’s Spring in Texas and severe weather season—it’s not the storms that scare her; it’s the loud noise that gets her. 

He’s scooting closer to her, pressing his big palm to her shirt-covered back, rubbing little circles, his voice husky and soft as he says, “We’re okay, Cielito—you’re okay.” Javier reaches with his other hand to take her smaller one into his, putting it on his bare chest over his heart where he knows she can feel it thudding. “Focus on me, baby—look at me.” Her head turns his way, and he’s met with panicked eyes and glistening cheeks. “Feel my heartbeat. You feel how it’s beating?” She’s still breathing too fast. “Focus on the beat—you feel it?” he asks again, and she looks at their hands. “Thud, thud, thud…” he repeats at the same rhythm of his heart. 

The therapist he’s been seeing for a while now taught him some techniques for when he has his occasional panic attacks, and right now, he’s trying to help ground her.

“See,” he says. “I’m right here, baby—you’re okay. I promise we’re gonna get through this. What are five things you can see?” 

“You,” she answers between heavy breaths.

“There’s one.” 

“Hand...” Her eyes move down. “Blanket…” Her head turns toward their bedroom door. “Door… Dresser...” 

“That’s it, Cielito.” He’s still rubbing her back reassuringly. “Tell me four things you can hear.” 

“You…” she says. “Fan…” Their small fan on his dresser by the door they use for white noise at night. “Rain…” Thunder rumbles in the distance, and her body tenses, a small whimper leaving her, and Javier’s hand on her back moves to hug her against him. She whispers, “Thunder…” 

“It’s moving away, baby,” he tells her. “Sounds like it just passed by. You’re doing so good for me—name three things you can touch.” She’s beginning to calm down, her breathing is slowing. 

“You…” There’s movement under the sheets of her wiggling her feet. “Blankets… Me.” 

“Good.” He kisses the side of her head. “What are two things you can smell?” 

“You… Candle…” They had a vanilla-scented candle burning before they went to bed.

Her breaths even out, and he knows she’s focused on him based on her answers. 

“There we go.” The following crack of thunder is so quiet that it’s barely heard over the rain outside and the whirring of their fan. “I think the worst of it is over—tell me one thing you can taste.” 

He’s sitting close enough to her that the sides of their bodies are touching. He’s got one arm around her back, keeping her against him, and his other hand still holding hers over his heart. 

Her face turns his way, and she lightly bites his shoulder, speaking with her mouth open, “You.”

Yeah, she’s calmed. He smiles. 

“Do I taste good, mi amor (my love)?” 

She’s still biting him. “Yes.” 

“Are you feeling better?” 

“Yes.” 

“Is there anything I can do to help you fall back asleep?”

Her mouth finally leaves him, and she meets his gaze, her eyes rounded. “Can I lay on your chest while you read to me?” 

Something she enjoys and relaxes her. 

He leans in to kiss her tenderly and asks against her lips, “Fellowship of the Ring—” What he’s currently re-reading for probably the thirtieth time. “—or whatever that book is you were reading last night that got you so hot and bothered you begged for my dick?” 

She broke away to look at him once more, and he let go of her hand to use his thumb to wipe away the remnants of the tears from her cheek. 

“As great as it’d be to have you narrate my smut,” she replies, “it’s gotta be Lord of the Rings ‘cause I am so fucking tired, like so tired, and queasy—I think I’m getting whatever that bug is that’s going around the hospital—" She’s a nurse at the local hospital. “—and I really don’t appreciate the stupid thunderstorm interrupting my beauty sleep.” 

Her answer makes him frown, and he presses the back of his fingers to her forehead. 

“You don’t feel warm…” he says. That doesn’t mean she isn’t coming down with something. “I’ll stop by the store on my way home tomorrow and pick up stuff to make you caldo.” The soup his mom always made when he or his dad were sick.

“That’d be nice, but,” she emphasizes, “food has been pretty hit or miss over the last week, so if it makes me puke, I swear on my ABBA Souper Trouper record—” Her favorite and most prized that she’s had since its release in 1980. “—it has nothing to do with your mother’s recipe and is just whatever the fuck this sickness is.” 

“I know, baby,” he replies and kisses her forehead. “Let me fix the pillows, and I’ll read to you.” 

When he starts to move, her hand quickly grabs his arm to stop him, and he turns his attention back to her. 

“Javi?” 

“Yes, mi amor?” 

“Thank you for calming me down.” Her eyes dart away. “Texas summers are literally hell, but for all of the years I lived in Dallas before coming here, I hated Spring the most because of the storms—what I’m saying is this isn’t the first time thunder has woken me up in the middle of the night and caused me to freak out.” The thought of her alone and scared makes his chest ache, wishing with every fiber of his being that he could’ve been there with her. “It’s happened before,” she continues, “and I always had to ride it out on my own. So, thank you for being here and helping me. Don’t get me wrong, it majorly sucked, but it was nice not having to go through it alone.”

He caresses her cheek to make her look at him, and he smiles. “I can promise you, you’ll never have to go through it alone again. I’ll always be here to help you, just like how you’re always there when my brain’s being an asshole because I love you, Cielito.” 

She matches his look. “I love you, too, Javi.” She quickly pecked him on the lips. “Two months, and you continue to reign supreme as Husband of the Year.” 

“And am I living up to my other title?” 

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Which one? ‘Cause Sexiest Man Alive, yes, you’ve got ‘99 in the bag. God of Sex, also yes, and I remain your devoted devotee. And you’re definitely living up to being the Hunkiest Hunk to Ever Hunk; no one will ever be able to out-hunk you, babe.” 

“Good.” 

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[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 4}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: Worried about Joel's reputation from defending you, you try to get some distance. But the man has a way with words and you end up at his place for dinner. If he's so intent on being friends with you and touching you in ways that speed up your heart, why was everyone else getting cutting boards and kitchen utensils crafted by him?

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, two (2} instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, talk of pregnancy, talk of birth, talk of labor, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, kissing (!!), yearning, protective joel, protective tommy, marsha gets her own warning now, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: this chapter was brought to you by arcade fire and euphoria of finishing three essays and watching four lecture videos + taking notes for class

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

The air was stifling inside the room, causing sweat to drip down the small of his back and bead up on his temples. The motion of him moving back and forth, back and forth tiring but satisfying. His hands ached, for the grip they held, holding secure to the object of his attention. His focus was striking, eyes dark and lips parted as he worked.

He had been at it for a long while, body humming with the effort he was putting into the movement. A grunt broadcasting the longer stretches of his back, the harder press of his hips. His arms were straining against the short sleeves of his shirt, the fabric tight around his muscles as they worked.  

Sweat slick arms coated in sawdust as he painstakingly sanded down the planks of wood he had cut to proper dimensions to rest atop counter tops.

Huffing out, he pulled down the mask he had secured over his face, his breath causing the dust from his ministrations to billow up into the air.

No, he thought as he looked it over. Turning the wood over in his hands to inspect it. The fabric of his work gloves hushing over the smooth surface. No, he didn’t think he liked the idea of a circular board for you. He pictured you stood before a larger piece, sturdier. With little soft feet to hold it in place while you chopped expertly away at some herbs or broke down a chicken before roasting it. No, it had to be perfect. It had to feel like you, it had to be the best he could create. And the shape in his hands wasn’t right.

It needed to be perfect, because to him, you were perfect.

“Did you talk to Marsha about me?”

Joel sputtered, the sip of coffee he had just taken dribbling down his chin and shining in his beard.

“Did she apologize for how she’s been spreadin’ rumors?” You offered the kerchief from your back pocket across the space between your horses. They were moving slow, the morning sunlight shining down a warmth that hadn’t been seen for days. His hand grasped at it, the other trying to prevent the liquid from running down his neck and onto his clothing. Despite his rather comical reaction, he was serious as he looked you over.

“No, she was just…more cordial?” You raised a brow, fist tight over the saddle horn raising and opening as you tried to find the appropriate words to describe the weird encounter.

“She didn’t apologize?” Joel pinned you with a stern look, but you were sure it wasn’t really aimed at you if his tone of voice was anything to go by. He had been fine until you brought up Marsha’s name.

“She didn’t apologize.”

“Did- did you tell her to?”

“Yes. I did. She was rude when I was fixing something for her about a month back.”

“About me?” You guided Lowry to a stop, comforting her as she knickered, thrown off a little at the shift in normal protocol. Joel guided his own horse stop beside yours, watching with concern as you dismounted and tied her off to a nearby tree. You began to pace back and forth, the hush of the fallen leaves under your boots mimicking the anxiety that flowed through your veins. “You-you talked about me.”

“Said she was worried about me going out on patrol with you. So I set her straight.” He said as you watched you, pinpointing the tell tale signs in you that he felt too often himself. You removed your wide brimmed hat to rest it atop the empty saddle,

“Because she doesn’t want me to get you killed.”

“Nothin’ you could do would cause that, you don’t have to worry about me. You shouldn’t listen-“

“I did get someone killed. My best friend.” You admitted, mentally berating yourself for just blurting it out. You had planned to calmly tell him about the patrol that had changed your life, set you up on the path you currently walked, your status of the town outsider. But of course you botched it, mouth running as it so often did around him. Wanting to share things with him, of feeling safe and calm enough to say what came to mind around the man.

“You-what?”

“Five years ago.” You settled down on the ground, back against a thick trunk, head in your hands as you told the man you couldn’t get out of your thoughts the thing that made you an outsider within the settlement. It was rather unfortunate. People made it back alive and well for the most part, but in this case it seemed that the blame for what happened had been put on your shoulders. Almost as if you had done so out of jealousy or ill-intentions. The most common rumor was that you hadn’t liked how quickly and well along Aiden and Millie had once arriving and being accepted and offered refuge inside the gates.

But that wasn’t true. Aiden had only ever been a friend, a close one with the way you had to be in order to survive as long as you two did. He had been the only remaining part of your life from Before. You felt more like his guardian than any potential personal connection. He had been young, bus boy in the restaurant you had worked as a chef in. A ten year age difference between you, compelling you to take him with you when it all broke down. You two had been the only ones to make it out of the restaurant, some of the only ones to escape the round up and corralling of people within your small city.

You had been happy, unbelievably happy, when he had told you of his crush on Millie. Feeling like everything you had done and sacrificed was worth it if he could create a life for himself. For people to twist the situation and narrative to something it wasn’t, never sat well with you and proved to have been the cause of the divide between you and a majority of the residents of Jackson. Marsha taking it upon herself to blame you for the grief of her daughter’s lost love.

“We were on Teton and I didn’t notice we had a tail. They followed us and waited until we had scavenged through the village before they came at us.”

But he didn’t turn away, didn’t guide his horse in a complete one eighty and turn back toward the gates, he didn’t take a deep breath or look disturbed by the news at all. Instead, he took you completely by surprise and -

“Do you want to come to mine for dinner tonight?”

Your head shot up, taking in the way he was still atop his horse. The casual air about him as he regarded you with a warm smile. 

“Joel, I just told you I got someone killed and you…invite me over for dinner?”

“Well, yeah. Been meaning too, Ellie wants to-“

“Joel, we shouldn’t be seen together. And you can’t be defending me around town. People are going to think-“

“People aren’t going to think anything, they been saying stuff out of line, and I set them straight. Simple as that.”

“Joel, people don’t like me. But they do like you, I don’t want your association with me to drag that through the mud.”

“I don’t care, you hear me?”

“That’s not the point!”

“Sweetheart, I will defend you until my last breath. You don’t deserve the way they talk about you. You feed them, make sure the meals actually taste good and have nutritional value, you put your admittedly very good looking ass on the line to protect them, and you share the harvest of the trees in your yard.”

“This is serious, Joel.”

“Olive,” He heaved a sigh, chin tucked low before he brought his eyes to yours. They were clear and set, intention behind them as they caught the brittle sunlight. “You are my friend. Friends defend each other and spend time with each other. They care about each other.”

“We are not friends.” You broke eye contact and shoved off from your spot. Feeling foolish for the overly simplified way he described the dynamic you two had. As if it was actually so simple. It was anything but, his reputation on the line the more he talked with you, the more he became your friend within the walls.

His hand caught yours as you walked by, stopping you from getting back to Lowry. He said your real name, stilling you even further with the way it fell from his lips.

“We are friends. I do care. I care a hell ova lot.”

“Not just cause I apparently have a good looking ass?” A weak attempt to lighten the mood, to play off his own easy banter.

“I mean, that might be a part of it. I’m not gonna lie to you.” The lopsided grin he brandished made your heart skip a beat, desire sparkling in your middle. “We’re friends, Olive. I heard the way people reacted when I first showed up, last winter. How they reacted when I showed up again months later with a noticeably more damaged Ellie. I-I know we don’t talk too much about it, but I’ve done some bad things too. Why would I fault you for what you think you’ve done?”

“I did other bad things,” You confessed, watching as he dismounted his own horse, coming to stand in front of you. He didn’t give you the chance to ask him what he was doing or give him one of your looks before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. Heart tittering, you slowly wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your face into his chest. His hands splayed across your lower back, warm and comforting, holding you up while you shared something new and difficult with him. Something you didn’t know you shared with the man.

“Bad, immoral things. To keep us alive before we got here. He was young when it happened, I had ten years on him. Aiden, his name was Aiden. I hadn’t been ready for the responsibility of someone depending on me, especially as everything we knew collapsed around us. But I did it. I did what I had to for us to survive and find a place like Jackson.”

The horses whinnied, sensing the tense emotions flowing from you, but a calming hush from Joel had them minding their own business as they stood tied close together.

“He-he was happy here, it took us so long to find a place that wasn’t just a trap or full of worse people than us. We stayed away from the QZ’s. Too much going on and too little freedom. But here? It was like a breath of fresh air. And he should’ve had a long, happy life the second we walked through those front gates. But instead he got a year of courting a love he never got to marry and was killed because of my oversight and lack of attention.”

“No, sweetheart, that’s not why.” You felt more than heard the deep rumble of his voice, feeling the light scrape of his facial hair along the top of your head as he spoke. “Patrol ain’t easy. It’s long hours on a horse, on foot, on a constant swivel to keep an eye out for any threats to what we have. And we have a lot to be worried about protecting. People tend to forget the reality of the world behind the gates, getting caught up in rumors and gossip and who’s sleeping with who. But you know what’s out here, I know what’s out here. And if they can’t accept the fact that shit happens, that good people die all the time, then that’s on them. That’s not on you. You hear me?”

He held you until your breath evened out, until you pulled away enough to look up at him. Until you leaned up and pressed your lips to the column of his neck. Smiling into the skin there when you felt his hands tighten around you in response.

“Thank you.” You whispered, pulling away slowly, his arms unwinding from around you.

The rest of the route was covered with simple, easy questions.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Blue he had responded, a deep indigo, erring on the side of purple almost. Your was brown, an amber tone that you didn’t say resembled his eyes in the sunlight, but of the way coffee looked before it was mixed with cream and sugar.

“What’s your favorite genre of music?”

Rock, generic and so spot on for him. You had teased him that he probably listened to bands categorized as classic rock and he had barked a laugh so beautiful you hadn’t heard him ask what yours was. Jazz, you had responded. For the sound of strings and wind coalescing in calming crescendo.

Conversation flowed until you were both safe inside the gates, tacking and brushing the horses in the stables. Until he bid you goodbye with a teasing smile that made your heart warm and your stomach flutter.

“You better bring that good looking ass to dinner later, ya hear me?” He said as he walked by the stall where you tended to Lowry. “Wanna see what the personal chef whips up.”

Tingly. You felt so tingly, even if all you had was two tumblers of amber liquid. One while cooking and one with dinner. Ellie had been glued to your side, the teenager eager to learn how to make something that wasn’t breakfast food. She had been attentive when you showed her how to carefully cube the meat to put on some skewers with onion and peppers. Mindful of keeping an eye on the potatoes as they boiled and maybe a little too enthusiastic in mashing them. But the meal was perfect, the sauce you whipped up a delicate balance of spice and tangy.

Bad puns shared at the table and Joel rolling his eyes more times than you could count. His smile so bright as he laughed and sneered in faux disgust at the really terrible ones. It had wound down, Ellie dipping out as clean up began, but neither of you had begrudge her for it. Friends calling on her for an evening in the mess hall, a movie to be played for the town.

Now a third one, on the couch in the living room of the man who surprised you as you spend more and more time with him. A fire crackling in front of you both, Joel down on his knees as he made sure it was fed enough to keep going.

With a huff, he plopped down onto the cushion beside you, causing you to dip into him from your own spot. The liquid splashed around in your glass and a small sound of surprise whooshed out of your chest as you tried to prevent your body from pressing up against him so completely. One of his hands wrapped around the wrist of the one you had placed on his shoulder to prevent it from happening. The other fixing itself on the back of your head to prevent you from butting against him. But he didn’t let go when your gaze snapped up to his face.

Something glinted in them, his breath puffing out in a hearty chuckle that vibrated through you. Your entire right side felt like it was on fire with the contact of him pressed close. The feel of his pants rough on the part of your thigh that had been exposed as the skirt of your dress rustled up at the movement, revealing that the cloth over your legs were thigh highs and not tights.

“Smooth, Miller.”

“Hush,” His lips quirked up in a smirk. His hand moving from your wrist to take the glass from you and set it beside his on the coffee table. His palm splayed on the exposed skin, and he was suddenly leaning even closer, pulling your legs over his lap completely. The fabric riding higher to expose the tops of your thighs to his searching eyes.

“Oh.” Your breath pushed from your chest at the action. Hand reaching to settle on the side of his neck, skin warm and startling heady thoughts to make your head swim. Make your stomach flutter and your pulse hammer. Bad, oh this was so bad. He was so close, he was so warm, so solid. He was practically curled over you, encasing you in his loose embrace. A warning that sounded more like a plea in the form of his name whispered. “Joel…”

“Hush.” He repeated, his nose bumping against yours as he leaned down. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, wondering if he could smell it on yours. His eyes flashed down to your lips, causing your heart to skip a beat, the brown of them almost eclipsed by how wide his pupils were blown. No doubt matching your own.

“W-we shouldn’t.” It wasn’t even an argument, not really. His top lip brushed yours, the feel of his mustache tickling magnifying the tingles cascading over your body. The smell of him, that heady cedar that made you inhale deeply, reveling in how much comfort it settled into your bones.

“Just, lemme in.” He rasped, lips brushing yours chastely.  A shuttering breath giving away his own nerves. “Please.”

His need for clear consent, the feel of hands on you, of his body pressed up against you was all so dizzying. Your eyes fluttered shut, body absolutely humming. How could you deny him, the man who settled into your thoughts, made a space in your heart that only he could fill. How could you deny him when he smelled so good, felt so warm, asked so sweetly for the one thing you already wanted to give him.

Before you could even finish shaping your mouth around an ‘okay’, his lips were pressed fully against yours. Gentle, chaste, a tame thing.

You pulled back, breathing hard only after a few seconds, eyes flying open. His own were searching yours, his breath fanning over your face. Ensuring that you were okay, that you were still okay with it, with him. With this. A friendship shifting into unknown territory.

His fingers tangled in your hair, scrunching it and pulling it in just the right way to cause a groan to travel up your chest. Pleasure bolted through you, pushing you to reach out and wrap your hands around his neck, forward and into him. Lips crushing against his in deeper kiss as you shifted your legs in his lap, moving them to rest your knees on either side of his thick thighs. His hands gripped your waist, helping to pull you closer.

He moaned out as you settled over his lap, chest to chest, allowing for you to lick into his mouth. Gentle and careful giving way to desperate and urgent as you moved against each other with intention. You could feel the swell of him hard beneath you and you shifted your hips to press down, flush against him everywhere. Swallowing the groan he let out at the action, one of his hands moving underneath the skirt of your dress to-

“JOEL!”

“Fuck,” He growled, hands tightening on you as the sound of his name on a loud shout echoed down the dark street had you pulling away. Fast steps rushing toward the front of his house. The only warning before his front door slammed open, hitting the wall of the entry way. He captured your lips in bruising kiss as his name was shouted again inside the home.

Sighing, you rested your forehead against his, sharing air with him as he closed his eyes. His hands on you clenching as the moment effectively shattered.

Tommy’s form appearing in the doorway to the living room.

“Joel, it’s Maria. The baby- she, the baby’s co- oh!”

You knew how it looked, you pushing off from the older man, him sunken into the couch, both of you trying to catch your breath. The tension in the air, the fire crackling happily in the fireplace, the twin glasses of whisky on the coffee table. The way the skirt of your dress was wrinkled and on of your thigh highs shoved down by your ankle. Joel’s clothing no better, your hands having begun to unbutton the flannel donned. The obvious bulge he moved a hand over to try and hide from view.

“D-don’t.” You warned lightly, leaning down to pull the fabric back up your leg. Moving to put as much distance between you and the man you had just been all over like a teenager. Joel reached for you, aware of the watching gaze of his stunned brother. But you swerved, not allowing his fingers to graze you and shoved past Tommy.

“Olive-“ Joel tried to catch your eyes but you wouldn’t look at him, heart in your throat and stomach twisted up in knots. Tingly, you were still so tingly.

“I-I-I’ll see y’all….later. Tell Maria she can call on me if she needs anything!” And then you were shoving your feet into the unlaced boots, shrugging your coat on and taking off out the still open door into the cool night. Your heart didn’t stop racing even as you crossed the threshold into your own home a few streets over or when you stepped into a scalding shower. Or when your back rested against the cold tiles of the stall and you slid down to sit in the tub underneath the stream.

You just kissed Joel Miller.

It was supposed to be a good thing, you had wanted to, it had been all you could think about, the desire in the back of your mind all the time. But then why did you feel like you just made a huge mistake?

Tommy had come by a few days later, explaining that you would need to take his place on the longer routes Joel was assigned to. Sparse on the roster with so many to rotate the patrols with. Maria, now stable and back at home. A new baby boy to tend to and shower with love. His attention and focus needed here within the gates, not outside of them. His little brother’s worry and anticipation pulling a smile from him.

He had sat up with him far too late, assuring him that he was more than capable, that he was ready, that he would do just fine. The excited chatter had turned somber, memories of time so similar permeating the air and quieting the two men.

“I see you two, when you take off for patrol and when you come back. It’s the same when you’re with Ellie.” Tommy’s voice was low, nearly whispering as he confessed. “It’s the closest I’ve seen you look alive, look like you used to. Before.”

“She makes me feel like I’m alive.”

“She can pull a laugh outta me easy as can be, even if I’m a little pissed off with her.”

“Joel.” Incredulous, almost berating in tone, just his name. Nothing prefacing or following it and it irked him. To hear it spoken in such a manner by his younger brother.

“No, Tommy, no, don't just say my name like that. like it's a whole goddamn conversation that I should know about.”

“Just…be careful, brother. She doesn’t have a lot and I’ve noticed a difference in her since you rolled in.”

Joel recalled the way you had felt in his arms, pressed against him. And then how you had practically fled the scene, how you hadn’t been able to look at him afterwards. Careful, he agreed quietly. He had to be careful, for both your sakes.

Patrols were easy, neither of you mentioned the kiss. Or how one had turned into a handful, how gentle had turned into desperate. Going about the responsibility of ensuring the safter of the settlement like normal. Upon returning one day, Tommy had been waiting at the gates, almost buzzing with excitement as he prompted you both to take a piece of paper from jar. Citing that it was for the annual gift exchange of the holiday season fast approaching.

He felt bad for the relief he had felt when your name wasn’t the one scribbled onto his folded scrap of paper. The three planks of wood he managed to cut from the trunk drying out on his back porch. He checked on them each day before bed, inspecting them to ensure they were safe. One had already been lost to a disease that had rotted in the crack of the tree, seeping into that part of the trunk. He had just sat there with a tumbler of whiskey, lamenting the loss of it. The others wouldn’t be ready for months, he realized, as the holidays loomed on the horizon.

Just like he was doing now, thinking of the planks of wood on the other side of his house. It was one of the few moments he didn’t have anything pressing calling his attention so early, allowing him to take a moment to enjoy his coffee in the crisp air. The leaves were a myriad of colors, scattered along the streets and leaving the trees bare. He idly wondered if this was your favorite time of the year. And if it wasn’t, then what was?

“I know you got me.”

Joel startled where he sat on his front porch, coffee spilling from the mug he had a hand around resting on his knee. The soft voice breaking his reverie, his thoughts of you. But when he focused and looked up, it was Marsha who stood on the top step of his porch. Watching him with an entertained smile, eyes taking him in like she tended to do. He wasn’t blind, he knew the way she watched him. That she harbored a small liking to him, but he had never even thought to give into it. Even if it weren’t for the way she treated you and spread ill-notions of you around town, she wouldn’t be his type.

She had been here ever since the start, been here when the walls first went up and the town of Jackson was established. And he wished he didn’t feel a twinge of jealously and ire for it. But he was only human, someone who had to fight and claw and lose themselves in what the world became. Wishing it had all ended, would end when he lost more and more each day. Pieces of his heart shattering and pieces of his humanity ripped from him. But Marsha, her family, they hadn’t experienced that. And it allowed them to feel like it was completely normal to partake in gossip and petty vendettas.

He realized that being behind the walls allowed him to appreciate more what people endured outside of them. It wasn’t the woman’s fault she hadn’t had to fight for her life, that she hadn’t lost parts of herself to the world as it fell apart and tried to turn anything it could into a twisted version of its original self. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t have to figure out who she was after it all. How to life with herself and the things the world drove her to do.

No, that was him. It was Tommy. It was Ellie. It was you. And she would never understand.

“I was thinking about how you scolded me, and while that was…intense.” The tips of her ears tinged pink, telling him more than her words what she had thought of the interaction. Focused on how his attention had been on her and not on the words he had meant with every fiber of his being. The need to protect you, to stand up for you when you wouldn’t do so overwhelming him in that moment.

“I did try but she…my daughter doesn’t agree…I might need a little more incentive.”

“Ma’am, I’m not interested in playing games.” Joel made to stand up and seek shelter inside, unwilling to take part in whatever the woman was up to.

“It’s not a game, Joel. I just…she did a lot of damage. It’s going to take more than one conversation to settle five years’ worth of tension.” She tried to argue, to explain. But he wasn’t having any of it, too tired for the circles she was bound to lead the conversation.

“You didn’t even apologize, she said you were cordial with her.”

“I…I know. But listen to me, if you agree to help me build shelves in the living room as my gift, I’ll work on shifting the way people talk about her. I’ll intervene or cut them off if they start up about her. I swear to you.” He did stand at that moment, his coffee gone cold and his morning taking a turn for the worst.

“You apologize to her and I’ll think about it. She’s a good girl, she doesn’t deserve the crap y’all put her through.” Joel set her with a look, hoping she understood how serious he was about all this. Because you truly didn’t deserve the status of outsider that you wouldn’t toss around but inevitably felt. You were good, to him, to the town, to Ellie, even to the people who talked behind your back. “You better make sure that whoever drew her name gets her somethin’, you hear me? Apologize to her, I’ll be by to get the dimensions tomorrow.”

Joel turned his back on the woman, not bothering to look over at her to ensure she agreed to his terms before he was safely back in his home. Sighing, he dumped the coffee into the sink and moved into his workspace, anxious and needing to relieve it until he had to begin crossing things off his list.

It’s slow, the way the crafted planks of wood crop up around the settlement. From the first one in Tommy’s kitchen to the one in the creators own. To the ones fawned over in each of the older women’s homes, a rather prominent subject to be heard over the hours spent tending the gardens. Many hands busy preening, clipping, removing, sifting the soil while many mouths form praise around his name: Joel Miller.

Autumn is pivotal time to cleanse the gardens, tend to the waning perennials, prepare and protect the soil to ensure its intact for next years plantings. It’s nearing the end of the season, a dense chill settling over the land and sticking. Much like the frost you can see glittering in the early mornings when you leave for patrol or to help in the mess hall. Hearty, nutritional stews and stocks your specialty provided in the times when fresh isn’t available. But you didn’t mind, it kept you busy.

But you could do without the dotting words of so many for a man who had become something complicated in your life. A kiss, a lapse of judgement that had made it so.

While Joel was ever the same out on patrol, with the sharing of coffee and trading of questions, it was beginning to shift within the town. You hadn’t been hurt before when his attention was pulled before he noticed you, but now having had some of it to yourself you begrudgingly acknowledged that it was beginning to.

Wanting to desperately to be folded into the community, into the social circles that were prevalent all around. And you didn’t like how much you wanted that, knowing it would never be so.

Marsha was hovering close, sitting next to him in meetings and in the mess hall when they both happened to be there. And it irked you, because you weren’t sure what was going on between them. It certainly wasn’t any of your business, but the way that he seemed to always be close to her despite his words of having talked to her about being nicer to you settled heavy in your gut. It was sticky and uncomfortable, to carry about the realization that perhaps…perhaps she had listened to him because they were together.

But just like the worn fabric of his back pockets, it was none of your business.

Neither of you asked about personal stuff like relationships or the nonexistent sex lives you led. Or thought you both led, but the difference in ages revealed a subject off limits apparently. Which was alright, Joel did have a decade or so on you. His beautiful curls a steel gray, while you were just beginning to find streaks of silver in your own hair, more prominent when it was pulled up and away from your face. But you had wanted to know if they were together. If you were being too out of line with your thoughts of the man, of how you felt like you could talk to him, ask him questions, like he was still yours while out on patrol.

And you would take what he would give you, even if it meant you were both acting like the kiss had never happened.

It was felt even more so, the isolation and lack of a personal life as the holidays loomed near. Joel busy now more than ever, that damned little spiral notebook with its never-ending list. Tommy and Maria deep in the life of being parents to a newborn. Even Ellie was smitten with her friends, laughing more and seeming to enjoy herself as she finally began to find her circle. The reality of having pulled Joel’s name for the secret gift exchange burning a hole in your back pocket.

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dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

taglist: @merz-8 @morning-star-joy @joelsgreys @orcasoul @sawymredfox @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag @pascalpvnk @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @idontknowyou-12345 @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @fluff-lover @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom@communism-bitches @formulafun @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc @ohhellotherebumblebee

[scr11bles]

Hi! Could I have a medic x fem! Reader Italian espresso with a side of chocolate macaron and chocolate cake?

order up for anon! wanna order something for yourself? here's the menu!

- italian espresso: "Try to stay quiet, understand?" + chocolate cake: forced proximity + chocolate macaroon: rough sex

(MDNI UNDER THE CUT!)

cw: technically cnc (reader wants it but theres no explicit permission given), a little bloodplay but its barely there so??, unprotected sex

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Honestly, you thought Medic hated you. Really, most of the team did when you first showed up, mainly because you were a new face (and also a woman but you reprimanded them swiftly and proved yourself overtime), but Medic always seemed to be the one that would ignore you the most. Even Spy treated you like you existed, which is saying a lot in reference to the Frenchman and his closed off put together personality.

Medic ignored you so much that you haven't even gotten your surgery to have the ability to be Übercharged. Which, in retrospective makes the situation worse for him and you. Ultimately more him than you, since without the ability to Übercharge, you were a prime target for the other duplicate team, constantly being the main focus of their ire. With this, Medic had to follow you around more, pushing himself away from the group and heal you with his medigun before walking away with a scoff and grumbling under his breath.

That particular incident was even happening now, Medic having to strafe away from the group and running behind you to heal you as you outran and skillfully shot at the Blue Scout that wouldn't leave you the fuck alone. Though just as you turn the corner with medic in tow, the enemy Heavy and his own Medic appear, causing you to skid to a stop and turn around, your shoulder crashing into Medic's, making you to trip and catch yourself before running in the opposite direction, barely avoiding the rain of bullets that whir from the Blue Heavy's gun. Running on pure adrenaline and the fear of feeling the pain of being killed (You bitched about that for weeks when you began- how do these people have the ability to literally undo death, but not be able to prevent the pain that comes from it?).

You feverishly turn another corner, entering one of the spacious rooms of the Teufort location and scrambling towards one of the nearby doors, opening it wide and grabbing onto Medic's arm to pull him through with you. Sure, the man probably hated your guts and didn't give two shits about how you ended up, but that doesn't mean you would leave him behind, he is your teammate after all.

Though when you expect to run into a different room, you slam into the wall of... A closet? Fuck. Medic crashes in after you, his medigun clattering to the floor as the door is shut behind the two of you. The closet is smaller than it appears to be, forcing you to squirm against the doctor as your heart pounds in your chest from the combination of fear and adrenaline, making your chest rise and fall quickly, your lungs screaming for the air that was stripped from you during the chase. All of the sudden you feel your heart drop as Medic's large hand wraps around your mouth, silencing your frantic breathing. The smell of latex and blood making your head feel fuzzy.

"Try to stay quiet, understand der Schatz?"

His voice is silken but with a twist, the tone he uses holding a sort of rumbling growl in its depths. You feel Medic's other hand snake around your waist, tugging you towards him to press your back against his chest, and you can feel that he too is panting, his warm breaths ghosting against the back of your ear. You turn your head to the side slightly, making eye contact with him and letting your expression get away from you as your eyes go wide from the shock of him being so close and willingly touching you. The way your eyes must've been bugging out of your head makes Medic smirk down at you, the man chuckling darkly. It isn't the first time you've heard the sound, but when he's so close you feel the rumble and baritone of the sound, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

Footsteps pound against the flooring outside the door to the closet and you swear you feel Medic pull you closer to him, his hand still staying pressed against your mouth to keep you quiet. Your eyes stay wide as you hear the enemy Medic and Heavy talk, praying to whatever god that they wouldn't find you and your own Medic and shoot the two of you dead. As the footsteps of the enemy fades, you imagined crying from the relief. Thinking that Medic would let go, you try to move forward and reach for the doorhandle until you feel Medic tighten his grip on you and keep you in place, making you cinch your eyebrows together and crane your neck to look up at him behind you.

"We should wait. They could be lingering..."

He murmurs against the shell of your ear, immediately feeling your face burn from the close proximity. You suppose he was right, and this position didn't really hurt, in fact- you really liked this position. Medics hand splays across your stomach, his gloved fingers practically teasing the edge of the shirt of your uniform, threatening to slip the cool latex under the fabric and tease your skin. You in turn arch you back into him, the chill of his gloves making you squirm, causing Medic to tighten his hold on you even more.

"Careful Schatz, you're not trying to provoke me, are you?"

He teases, sliding his gloved hand under your shirt and letting his fingers roam across your stomach, slowly inching his fingers up to your ribs and feeling him shudder as he touches the bottom of your ribcage. His deft fingers prodded at your ribs before sliding his hand up further and cupping your breast through your bra, giving the sensitive mound of flesh a rough squeeze that elicits a hiss from you. Once again, Medic chuckles against your ear, lowering his face to nuzzle the side of you neck before biting onto the curve where you neck meets your shoulder, sinking his teeth deep into your skin and pulling away when you whimper to lick at the blood that pools at the marks.

You murmur his name, and you feel the twitch in his pants start to grow behind you, his hand around your breast tightening once more for a rough squeeze before trailing back down to your pants, sliding his gloved fingers beneath the fabric and pushing aside your panties before swiping a finger across your slickening folds. The wet sounds that echo off the closet walls make you whine, embarrassment and pleasure flooding through your veins at the sound of your arousal.

"Don't be shy Liebe, I've wanted this too."

Medic growls against the skin of your throat, his gloved fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit while relishing in the small noises that escape you and the quivers of your body. You swallow shakily, letting a particularly large moan tumble past your lips when Medic pushes two fingers into the depths of your wet heat, the texture of his gloves and thickness of his fingers making your brain short circuit. He curls his fingers deep inside you and keeps his thumb on your clit, the stimulation making your knees grow weak and pathetic whines exude from your throat. At a particular brush against your sweet spot, a loud moan escapes past your lips. Medic curves his fingers deeper into you, thrust his fingers knuckle deep into you and eliciting a louder moan from your lips. When you part your lips to make more noise, Medics hand around your jaw shifts, the doctor forcefully shoving his fingers into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue.

"Ich hätte nicht erwartet, dass du so laut bist."

He murmurs into your ear, withdrawing his fingers from your cunt and grinning wickedly when you whine from the loss of stimulation. Bastard. Though your whining comes to an end when you feel him yank down your pants and undoing his just as swiftly, shuddering as you feel his cock brush against your skin. Medic shoves his fingers deeper into your mouth, causing you to gag on the latex of his gloves while he pushes your head back against his shoulder. The doctor loops his other arm under your knee, forcing your thigh to press against your chest to give him easy access to your weeping core. He guides his cock to align with you dripping cunt, rubbing himself through your folds to create a makeshift lube before plunging deep into you, ignoring the gagged moan that drips from your lips at the burn and stretch of him within you.

Medic doesn't let you adjust, needlessly and roughly thrusting up into you and letting out faint pleasurable grunts while pressing down harder on your tongue with his fingers, not caring that some of the blood from his gloves is smearing onto your lips and your tongue, the copperish-iron taste making you gag further. Your body convulses beneath the doctor as he doesn't relent in his pace, the piston of his hips making you hiccup and stutter over your already barely formed words. Medic bites down on your neck again, sucking what you know is going to be a deep hickey later into your skin. At the sound of your muffled moans, Medic chuckles his usual dark chuckle into the skin of your throat, his grunts morphing into deep moans.

"So tight Schatz, I should've done this sooner."

The man grunts, a piece of his usually slicked back hair falling from its hold and brushing against the lens of his glasses. His thrusts start to stutter, turning his body and pushing you up against the wall of the closet to pound into you harder without abandon. The new pace and angle makes you weak in the knees, bracing yourself up against the wall as you moan and whimper while drooling over his fingers. Through the flutter of your walls, he knows your close, shifting his hold under your knee to position his fingers perfectly over your clit, rubbing harsh circles onto the sensitive bundle of nerves.

With the stimulation you feel the heated band growing in your belly snap, your hold against the wall becoming weak as you cum and squeeze him like a vice, the pressure pushing him over the edge too, making him paint the inside of your cunt with all he has. Medic thrusts harshly a few more times while nipping at you neck as the two of you come down from your highs.

Medic pulls out of you with a strangled grunt, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth and patting your cheek with a small chuckle as he helps you back into your pants, the sentiment coming off as odd but endearing all the same.

"You failed!"

Fuck. The Administrators voice rings out through the whole area of Teufort, signalling your loss against your mirror team. You turn to Medic and grimace, the two do you are definitely getting interrogated on where you were instead of helping. Surely you can come up with something convincing, right?

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

first request!!! i hope i did medic justice he was my og crush when my brother introduced me to tf2

[kamari333]

A 2025 Recap of Kam's Fanfics

This took me all day to put together, for some reason XD But now I've got it and I can share it!

I hope if you read through all this, and click into a fic, you find something you like! Let me know with a comment (or two) if you do!

The very first fic I every posted on AO3 was "Resonance".

I had never actually played Undertale before, but I had watched someone else play it. I stumbled into the UTMV on complete accident, and was greatly inspired by the fanon at the time (early 2017). I decided to just.... go for it. Try writing a story where all the AUs I liked and thought were cool got to come together. I got to experiment with characterization, motivations (and the logic behind them), prose, dialogue, and of course narrative. From May 3rd 2017 (i only posted on May 5th because that's when my account activation was approved -- this was back when you needed an invitation and there was a waiting list) to June 30th, 2018, I wrote this story with no plan and (if i remember correctly) no betas.

"Resonance" is an action-adventure story. It's initial premise is to compare and contrast various AUs by pulling them all together in one place. If you've ever seen "Into the Spiderverse", it is a lot like that, but with Sans Undertale, and written before "Into the Spiderverse" was even a thing. It takes the '6 Skeletons' trope that was pioneered in the xReader subgenre of UTMV and puts it in the context of Fontcest and Sanscest (as well as other ships like Soriel, Papyrus/Chara, Frans, and Papdyne). It gives some passing exploration to heavy narrative tropes like incest, self-harm, major character death, rape, torture, the yandere, drug and alcohol abuse, and sacrifice for the greater good, making it a Dead Dove if I've ever written one.

"Resonance"'s greatest strength, I think, is its character depth. I think I put a lot of good work into fleshing out the 6 main characters throughout the story, justifying the choices I made for their deviance from canon and their purpose in the narrative. It's other strength is its emotional impact: I think, for a first try, I did fairly well with the big emotional setups.

Where "Resonance" falls a little weak, admittedly, is its narrative drive. This is the most obvious in the ending, which drags on a bit without really giving a solid conclusion. While the story serves the purpose I intended for it, the open ending lacks a concrete satisfaction that i cannot articulate. Even so, it is an ending that leaves no room for doubt about what the status quo going forward will be, and at the time of writing it, that was enough for me.

I consider "Resonance" to be my Magnum Opus, proof that I can finish what I start.

💙❤️💜💛🩵🧡

The next big work (skipping over a few smaller things) is my "Ebott is a Multiverse" series.

"Ebott is a Multiverse", or "EMV" is a series of fics which lend focus to various ships, all taking place in the same continuity (and tristate area).

The first installment in EMV is "The Last Laugh".

"The Last Laugh" is a 5 chapter story detailing key events for its focal relationship that take place over 9 months. From February to November of the 4th year since Monsters came to the Surface, we follow a Classic Sans and an Underswap Sans as they figure out how much they're in love.

This first fic was originally intended to be a sort of 'revenge', inspired by both a fic and a prompt left by another rather talented writer in the Fandom (if you're still around, hi again CrushingOnRazz!) I worked hard to build up to the climax of the fic, so that everything would fall into place for the most emotional impact. I think the ending ended up being one of the most impactful of any ending I've ever written.

That being said, I ended up feeling like it still needed more to the story, a continuation as it were, so I planned out the 'skeleton' and rough path for the direct sequel "Happily Ever Laughter".

"Happily Ever Laughter" is still ongoing, however, because before I could even start it properly, I had already been sucked into another fic in EMV.

The true monster of EMV is "Burlesque". For certain reasons, "Burlesque" has both a "Censored" and an "Uncensored" version. The Censored version has all onscreen erotica removed, with fade-to-black cuts and some references changed. At the current chapter count of 57 (still unfinished), the wordcount difference between Censored:Uncensored is 224,949:254,502 words (so ~30k).

"Burlesque" is a another ship fic, this time following the relationship events of an Underfell Sans, Dancetale Sans, and Underlust Sans, all navigating their polyamory, personal issues, trauma, and the subtle pressures of late stage capitalism in fantasy U.S.A.. Together, they overcome their self deprecation, the price of rent, invasive honey badgers, sexual harassment, and the strength of their own horny, all so they can say "I love you." The story begins in February of the 4th year of Monsters coming to the Surface, and extends into December as of Chapter 57 (a work in progress).

EMV also features two other ships as focus ships (with at least two more planned). One of those ships is Outertale Papyrus/Underfell Papyrus/Underpatch Sans, which has enough content in "The EMV Anthology" that I am already planning to transplant it into its own sidefic. The other ship is Dancetale Papyrus/Fellswap Sans, which has comparatively less screentime but is no less delightful for it.

Having had so much fun writing erotica, I ended up participating in Kinktober 2017 in October 2017. This was the beginning of an annual holiday (of sorts) for me, as I have participated in Kinktober every year since (2017-2024).

My complete Kinktober Archive is currently in a series. In it, I get to explore different relationship dynamics, ships, kinks, and possible story elements. I alpha-test a lot of stuff that sometimes gets refined and filtered into more serious fics. Included in (but certainly not limited to) my experiments are: Doggo/Burgerpants, Vegetoid/Reader, RottenCherryBerry (which has become a Kinktober tradition), Mafiafell/Outertale Sanscest, the closest thing to Bad Sans Poly I will ever tag, and Stretch/Nightmare (which will be mentioned again later). The series currently has over 500,000 words of kinkplay in it, with a Table of Contents at the beginning of every fic so you can find the exact tags for every chapter quickly.

I also began an xReader in November of 2017. "Welcome To The Underground" started as an experiment to see if I could write 50,000 words in a month (in an event known as NaNoWriMo). I ended up meeting the 50k goal by the end of the month, but the story was still not completed to my satisfaction. I would continue to chip at this fic until 2020, when I finished it at just over 102,000 words.

"Welcome To The Underground" is an Isekai xReader Songfic where you, the Reader character, are a young adult (in your 20s) who is dropped into Undertale's Underground. In it, you resign yourself to the fate of every other fallen human who isn't Frisk (re: to die), and only make the effort necessary to make your remaining time as worthwhile and comfortable as possible. Throughout the story, you make friends, sing songs, get hurt, get back up again, and discover that you can do things you didn't think you could do, even if it sucks to do them.

I think this story was something I needed, a sort of symbolic rite of passage into adulthood for me (since at the time of writing, I was strugging with my identity as an adult, and lacked the confidence I needed to take control of many aspects of my life that I should have already). It certainly wasn't a solution to all my problems, but I think writing this story was the start of some kind of personal growth which I have worked hard to cultivate since. Whether it has any similar meaning to my readers, I don't think I'll ever know, but hopefully a little bit of that 'just-keep-going' vibe gets rubbed off on you guys if you come on this journey with me.

One of my favorite parts of writing this story was picking the songs. About halfway through I also started writing Parody lyrics to some of them, adjusting words here and there to fit better with what the Reader character needed. The most satisfying of all parodies, however, was the true, complete parody I wrote of a Weird Al song. I am still very proud of "Sans Pick Up Your Fucking Sock" (the song).

I became a big fan of Nilchance's "ain't this the life" series, which is about the relationship between a classic Sans and the incestuous Underfell skelebros. It's a fantastic read if you're a fan of Kustard and Kedgeup and Fellcest. I mention this, because I ended up starting not one, but two fanworks that spin off from ATTL.

The first ATTL spinoff I wrote is "Ain't this a Lamia". In it, the Undefell bros find a lamia in their livingroom, and gay shit ensues.

I dunno why, i just thought that the poly would be even cuter if they had a horny snake with trauma and sass. I adore Slinky very much and hope he gets everything he wants <3

The second ATTL spinoff I wrote is "Ain't this more than Lust" In it, Red and Sans discover an Underlust Sans confidently selling himself for lunchmoney in a back alley, and gay shit tries to ensue but gets tripped up by trauma and sincerity (as of now -- I hope to add another installment to increase the percentage of gay).

I'm actually really excited to develop this story more, because i love the way these characters foil each other. ATTL Red just FITS next to an Underlust guy and it fills my heart with fluffies.

Both of these are the start of a series of the same names. The fics in them have an accumulated wordcount of ~30k each.

Kinktober 2019, Day 12, (Oct 12th 2019) is the inciting moment of my "Dr33mtal3" AU. (which is loosely, loosely inspired by, but is decidedly not Dreamtale). It's the first bit of writing where I tried to take my own idea and give it some life. Although technically i wouldn't start work in earnest until April 2020, when the first designs were made. That's why I consider April 7th to be Dr33mtal3's Birthday.

[Post 1] [Post 2] [Post 3] (These are all very ugly art compared to what I can do now lol)

After getting the designs started, i went into the fics!

The "Dr33mtal3" fic series on AO3 has substantially more multiverse content than content focusing on the isolated AU at this time, but isolated AU content is being worked on.

To delve into more of the isolated AU, I started taking Character Asks on the "Dr33mtal3" AU Blog in April 2022. Doing these asks really helps with improving my art. I have so much fun with them! I especially love when I get asks for other characters, like MadMewMew and Burgerpants !! But I do still also love the asks for the skelebros!

As for the Multiverse content, you will find plenty, both on the blog and on AO3!

Some of my finest work can actually be found in the 'Anthology' fics, specifically "An Anthology of Nightmares", which turned out to be of the gothic horror genre, and "An Anthology of Dreams", which was written with the intention of cerebral horror. They're both a little lovecraftian too, if you squint, although I was aiming for something else.

In An Anthology of Nightmares, you see what it's like to get picked up by Nightmare from many different peoples' point of view. You also see some of Nightmare's Castle, and what living there is like.

In An Anthology of Dreams, you follow along viewing Dream's life from the point of view of those around him. You start with the PoV of a Science!Sans (Sci), and eventually see Dream from several thoughtful angles!

You can also find my 3-Longpost long super-essay about Dream's house in these fics here on tumblr!

[Dream's House Post 1] [Dream's House Post 2] [Dream's House Post 3]

These desolate and unsettling anthologies are, however, only backstory for the Romance I am cultivating in what I plan as the main fic of this series: "Poignance". Although this story is only 14 chapters and 30k words in at this time (clearly unfinished), you can still follow an Underswap Papyrus into what will eventually be the slow burn epic romance he doesn't see coming.

This list is not comprehensive: there are numerous oneshots as well as unfinished works which have been pushed down my list of priorities. A few I want to make brief mention of because I like them:

"The Body Snatchers" Where an Underlust Sans starts a queerplatonic relationship with Fresh.

"A Night of Guns and Feathers" A thinkpiece about a relationship between a Mafiatale Sans (specifically the one detailed by my friend Catsitta, whom is called 'Karma') and D3!Nightmare.

"My Best Wingman" An Underlust fic I wrote for the To The Bone zine. Focuses on the brotherly relationship between Sans and Papyrus.

"Site Skin Ideas for UTMV Readers" A meta-fic to help make AU Disambiguating Freeform Tags easier to read and identify in the UTMV fandom.

"Bitty Magnitism" On of the fics I wrote when I was on a Bittybones kick, writing for the EMV spinoff series "EMV Bittybones Event" . Its about a Fellswap Sans going to a Bittybones adoption center, and the consequences that ensue.

Thanks for reading this far! I hope you found something you like!

[timbit-robin-art]

you got into emh???? what did you think of it???? :33333

I’m actually kind of nervous to answer this, bahaha. There are a lot of people who would cook me alive for the opinions I have on superhero cartoons. But I guess I’ll try to get my thoughts in order.

I’m very mixed on it. I love the characterizations and the universe so much, but I felt like the execution was meh. I think part of it is the fact that everyone hypes it up to be a god-tier show, so I was going in with higher expectations than I probably should’ve. That’s definitely on me.

While I know it got canceled and left a lot of unresolved plot threads, I personally think it has a YJ seasons 3-4 problem, where the writers bit off way more than they can chew. They’re setting up too much for future plot lines that it kind of messes with the flow for me. It’s hard to focus on the dynamics and developments of the main cast when the over-arching plot’s a little bit all over the place. And also when there’s a world-ending threat every other episode. I was a little bit annoyed with that.

For me, the show really shined in the character department (even when it felt like the writing room really didn’t like certain characters, but that’s a rant for another day). They all have such distinct personalities with amazing character arc potential, and I wish we got more smaller-scale threats with the episode focusing on one or two Avengers. Give me more Clint and T’Challa shenanigans, damnit.

I have much more thoughts, but I don’t want to come off like I’m totally trashing the show. I know this is a classic childhood cartoon for a lot of people, and I can see why. I just want to go into the writing room and be like, “thanks for the amazing idea, but I’ll take it from here.” Now I have new toys to play with.

[crybaby-bkg]

sᴄᴏʀɴᴇᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ sɪх

Bakugou x f!reader Warnings/Tags: some brief flashbacks, the tiniest bit of tension, brief mention of manga spoilers from chapter 362, negotiations of hero talk Word Count: 4.6k Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI!

Main Masterlist

AO3

It’s been a couple of days since your temporary stay at Bakugou’s house, and its more peaceful than you had expected it to be. You don’t see him much for the first few days, with your schedules conflicting with hero work and regular work. You haven’t gotten any major calls as The Red Medusa, and the smaller issues you leave to the other vigilantes like you. You haven’t heard anything from Vanity, and it scares you more than anything to hear what she has to say about your living situation, but you don’t reach out first. 

Instead, you pretend to live in bliss with your warm blanket and even warmer cup of tea in your hands. You cradle it in your palms as you sit on the couch, watching the news with an unfocused gaze. Your eyes clear though, the moment you hear the doorknob rattling, and find Bakugou entering with a frown on his face. 

“Didn’t catch the villain, sunshine?” You ask, tone droning on as you survey him—woah. Your eyes immediately snap back to the television, face as warm as your cup as Bakugou kicks off his boots and angrily sets down his heavy gauntlets. 

“‘Caught the bastard, but he ripped my fuckin’ pants with his stupid fuckin’ quirk!” He bellows, eyebrows downturned as he barely casts you a glance before he goes stomping off to his room. You keep your eyes zeroed on the screen, but its all for naught when the news anchors now focus on the fight Dynamight just wrapped up, camera zooming in entirely too close to his crotch for it to be FCC approved. 

The rip in his pants is high up on his thigh, exposes more than it should, his pale flesh splattered in blood and whatever blue goo the villain spits out. You can see Dynamight cursing up a storm, his mouth blurred out, as the news anchors try to withhold their laughs, one even making a dirty joke. 

It makes your stomach twists—how could they sexualize him like that, in a moment of battle? Of fighting to protect the citizens of this city? How could they focus on how strong the muscle in his thigh flexes when he jumps up and blasts himself into the sky? Focus on how more and more of his skin peels out with every turn he does in the air? How can they focus on how…how nice…

You stand up abruptly, beelining to the sink as you turn your cup upside down, emptying its contents down the drain. It must’ve been that stupid sleepy time tea Bakugou keeps stacked up in his cabinets fucking with your head, because you could never, ever look at him like that. 

Like the way you look at him now when he stomps out into the kitchen, roughly running his fingers through his hair as he stands there in only a tank top and shorts that stop right above his knee. The scar in his shoulder has healed nicely, you think to yourself, fading from pink to his skin tone. 

“Why’re you wasting my good tea?” He grunts, brushing past you to open up the cabinet. You avert your gaze, mouth twisting—in shame, so much shame—as you try to remember what he’s just asked you. 

“Because its shit.” You answer plainly, finding it in you to start washing the dishes you had left from earlier. Bakugou flitters around the kitchen comfortably, eyeing you when you go quiet. 

“Bullshit. You’ve used at least two bags everyday since you started staying here, and that’s on a good day.” He throws at you, leaning against the counter to square you off with a look to the back of your head. You bristle at that. 

“Why are you watching me, pervert?” You snarl at him, but your voice is shakier than it usually is. He picks up on that, but doesn’t comment on it. 

“Because you’re using up my good shit.”

“It looks like that’s your only shit.” You counter back. “Do you even have any other tea flavors? And why do you have so much of that sleepy time shit anyway?” 

Bakugou doesn’t answer for a long while, and you wonder if somehow, you’ve struck a nerve. You look over your shoulder to see if he’s still there, if he’s somehow stalked off with his freaky hero abilities without you hearing him, but he still stands there. Arms folded, gaze drifted away somewhere far. He looks up when he realizes you’ve been staring at him, frowning, and he opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by the beeping of the microwave. He turns, and takes the water out, steam curling around his hand. 

“Just like it, ’s all.” He answers with a shrug, turning his back to you this time, as he starts fixing his tea. You don’t say anything else about it, but your eyes lilt down to where his pale leg sticks out of his shorts. 

“Your thigh okay?” You find yourself asking, turning quickly to the spoon you’ve been washing for two minutes now, when Bakugou turns in your direction again. 

“Yeah? ’S alright. Just a few scratches.” He hums, walking up beside you to dump the spoon he used to stir his tea up into the soapy load you’ve finally dwindled down. You sneer at him, and he only quirks an eyebrow at you over the rim of his cup before walking down the hall. 

“Get some sleep, dumbass.” He tells you, almost fondly, and it makes your heart squeeze a little tighter than you’d like it to. You fumble over your words, looking for a comeback you’ve been struggling to come up with since you started staying with him. Instead of using words, you flip him the bird again, soapy and unseen to the back of his head. 

…

It’s been a couple of hours since you laid down for bed, even longer since you drank the tea, and you think that the shit is a scam. The whole point of sleepy time is to put you down to sleep, right? So why the fuck is it 3:41am, and you can’t sleep through your usual nightmares? 

Maybe, you just need another cup. 

You swing your legs over the bed, throwing the purple blanket away from your form as you slide into the slippers Bakugou lended you (you yelled at him for buying you something, and he yelled back that he didn’t need you slipping and breaking your damn neck on his hardwood floors). You go to exit your room, but you hesitate for a second. You don’t typically leave your room until the sun rises, even in times when you have to pee really fuckin’ bad. 

It brings back memories of creeping around in places that weren’t inherently yours, and being hunted, preyed upon, in long dark hallways with men who wanted to get a taste of your flesh. But you know that this place is safe, even if it pains you to admit it. So you scurry back to your bed, slide your pocket knife into the waistband of your sleep pants, and cover your shoulders with the purple throw blanket. 

You stand in front of the door for a few seconds, taking in some deep breaths before you unlock the door. You wait, chest shaking with the forced air you pump into your lungs, before swinging the door open. Your hand rests on the knife as you survey the silent house, looking down the hallway to Bakugou’s room, and find his door cracked. 

You turn and start heading to the kitchen, seeing that a single light above the stove has been left on. He must’ve done it, because you swore you turned off all the lights before heading to bed. You had made that mistake once and woke up to a snappy text of running up his light bill the next morning. So you walk a little faster, ready to turn it off, only to be stopped in your tracks at the sight of Bakugou in the kitchen himself. 

His head snaps up when he sees you turn the corner from where he rests against the counter by the microwave, looks almost as if time had done a rewind of the day. Only this time, he looks tireder, and you see the mug he used earlier is in the sink, and he nurses another one in his right hand. 

“What’re you doing up this late?” He slurs quietly, sipping at his drink before resting it on the counter beside him, folding his arms across his chest. You jut your chin out to him, as you mirror his position across the kitchen. 

“I could ask you the same thing. Don’t you have work in the morning?” You ask him, eyes fluttering to the cabinet that holds that scamming ass tea. Bakugou follows your line of sight and must connect the dots, because he huffs out a laugh before turning to reach into the cabinets behind him. He pulls out the mug you’ve been favoring, and waves a dismissive hand at you when you take a step forward to protest. 

“You don’t have to,”

“I know I don’t. Doing it because I wanna.” He yawns, starts taking out the materials he’s seen you use for the few days you’ve been here. Water from the tap, the black mug that reads “fresh out of fucks” in white lettering, the sleepy time tea bag, a scoop of sugar, and a squeeze of honey. 

“You really are a pervert.” You tack on quietly, jumping a little at the laugh that shoots out from his chest. 

“For knowing how you like your tea?” He asks, looking over his shoulder as he takes the warm water out (never actually hot—how did he know that though?). 

“Yeah, since I’ve only been here for a couple of days now.” 

“‘M a hero. My job is to observe.” Bakugou counters back, crossing the kitchen to hand you your tea. He looks down the bridge of his nose at you, corner of his mouth quirked up in such a way that it makes the pit of your stomach twist uncomfortably the longer you look at it. Stupid fuckin’ face. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, taking a hesitant sip, realizing quickly that its the way you’ve always liked it. Bakugou doesn’t say anything, just returns to his spot across the kitchen from you, sipping at his own drink as he takes you in. 

“You never answered my question,” he calls out, making you tilt your head in confusion. “Why’re you up this late?” He asks. You roll the answer around in your head for a few seconds, taking another drink, as you wonder where the harm comes in with sharing. It’s almost four in the morning anyway—anything you say right now doesn’t even really count. 

“Same old night terrors.” You hum into the rim of your cup, eyes drifting down to the squeaky clean floors of the kitchen tile. Bakugou doesn’t respond, and it makes you glance up to him, wondering why he’s fallen so silent. 

“You get reoccurring nightmares, too?” He asks gently, and in this light, you don’t think he’s ever looked softer. The light above the oven is dim, and casts an almost eerie glow on the pro hero, if not for the sunken bags under his eyes and the frown lines etched permanently into his skin. His hair looks fallen, a little puffy at the roots still, and his mouth is such a gentle line across his face, bottom lip puckered slightly. He looks…tired, exhausted with the seemingly never ending days of hero work. 

Will this be what you’ll look like if you agree to become a pro hero? Restless and overworked, all for the sake of “justice”? Do you not already look like that, though? 

“Yeah,” you answer softly. “About the shit that happened to me in the past.” You don’t know why the word vomit starts, but its hard to cut it off once it starts spilling. 

“I know Miruko killed them, but they still haunt me in my dreams, most night. Feels like I can’t escape them, even if I try, and gods know I’ve fuckin’ tried.” Your voice falls to a whisper, your throat tightening with every confession. You can’t open up to him—what if he uses what you say against you? What if he takes your pain and contorts into something even more grotesque? Into weapon, into battery, into destruction of your very being? 

But Bakugou only nods with you, as if he knows. As if he understands everything. 

“Same with me, it’s why I keep so much of that fuckin’ sleepy time tea ‘round.” He grunts out, eyes casted low as if in thought. “We killed the fucker that took me out years ago, and still,” his voice becomes strained, and he sets down his cup as if he’s afraid it’ll explode in his hands. It just might, with the way his teeth grit to hide the wobble of his chin, angrily. 

“And still I get these fuckin’ nightmares about—about,” 

“You don’t have to share in detail, if its too hard to say out loud.” You cut him off quickly when his voice starts to elevate, throwing off the serenity in the space you two have created for yourselves. Bakugou cuts his eyes up to you quickly, his gaze hardened and distant, but it clears the longer he looks at you before his upper body deflates. 

“Do you journal your nightmares?” You ask him, voice tiny. “Had a therapist tell me it helps. The only thing it helped was forgetting the dream after writing it down, but I remembered the next night when it happened again.” You laugh humorlessly, hiding your trembling chin behind your mug, blinking away the frustrated tears. 

“Not much of a writer.” Bakugou confesses. 

“You don’t have to be. Just write down what happened; its supposed to help you process shit.” You offer to him, narrowing your eyes at his slowly forming crooked grin. 

“Are you treating me like one of your patients?” He asks quietly, finishing the rest of his tea as you roll your eyes dramatically. 

“Only if you’re willing to pay for my services.” You throw back at him, your own mouth cracking into a small grin. You both share a look before growing quiet again, taking in the spacious kitchen, and the other occupying the opposite end of it. Bakugou stares at the blanket covering your shoulders, and speaks first. 

“You remember the first day we met, when—”

“When I kicked your ass?” You interject, eyebrows raising as you down the rest of your tea. He scoffs with a roll of his eyes. 

“When you were upset, and calling me sexist?” He asks instead. Instantly, your joking mood disappears, and you find yourself sinking into the counter behind you. You hop up on top of it, wrapping the blanket closer to your form as you think back on the day you first encountered Dynamight, days after seeing his viral video. Your mouth sours. 

“You never let me explain.” He says quietly into the silent room, commanding your attention, which you’ve settled onto the small crack in the corner of the floor. Your eyes snap up to his, and you think, I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. You think, I’ve finally started liking you as much as a damaged person like me can. You think, why does he have to bring up the Red Medusa and Dynamight right now? You think, why are you ruining this moment for us? You think—what moment? 

“We had a running joke, back at UA.” He starts, despite the way your mouth downturns and you start to curl into yourself. “That me and Ponytail—Creati, were in competition for the biggest boobs.”

At that, an unexpected laugh rips out of you. You cover your mouth in shock, eyes wide, mouth trembling as you try to keep your shocked giggles at bay. On instinct, your eyes travel down to his chest and—yeah, he really doesn’t help his case with how he folds his arms under his chest, giving himself a sort of cleavage. He narrows his eyes at you, and another giggle escapes from the palm of your hands. 

“Shut the hell up,” he tells you, no bite evident in his voice, and it only makes more laughs run from you into the quiet air of the kitchen. “And we had a little reunion a few months back, and we all started reminiscing ‘nd shit. And of course, dumbass Sparky records the worst part of our conversation, crops out what was said before and after, and uploads it.”

Your smile dies down a little as you think back on the video of Dynamight, obviously a little buzzed by his slur and reddened cheeks. You remember him sitting away from everyone else captured in the video, grunting that Ponytail’s tits have gotten so much bigger over the years, he’s surprised that she hasn’t tipped over and created a fuckin’ crater bigger than Musutafu by now. 

“Out of context, it was gross.” Bakugou admits, nodding his head once, his eyes casted to the back of the couch seen from over the kitchen island. “But beforehand, the fuckin’ idiots had brought up the whole boob contest thing, and we were all joking about it, you know?

“Shitty Hair said I still had her beat, and I made that comment that you heard. But then, she came back and said mine were so big that she was sure that I took a leave of absence a few months back to get them done just to beat her.” He shakes his head at that with a huff of a laugh, and you chuckle under your breath at the thought of that. Big bad Dynamight going under the knife to get bigger tits. The thought makes you laugh a little harder than you expected to, before it dissolves into a full blown cackle. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You keep repeating, waving your hand at him as you wipe away a budding tear in your eye. Bakugou tries to sneer at you, but he can’t help the small smile creeping up on his face. You’re laughing, he thinks, he made you laugh. 

“It’s just that, the imagery of you doing that just surprised me, is all.” You catch your breath after a few seconds, a big smile still stretching your cheeks as you look down at his chest again. He covers it with his arms, and frowns at you. 

“Looks like you’re the perv here.” He counters. You chuckle, hiding your face behind your hands as you shake your head. Once you’ve finally calmed down, do you emerge again, smile not as big, but it still ghosts your face softly. 

“Thank you.” You state simply, bowing your head slightly to him. He cocks an eyebrow, goes to pick up his mug before realizing its empty, frowning at it. 

“For calling you a perv?” Bakugou asks, and you snort at that, shaking your head. 

“No, for taking the time out to clear that up for me. You didn’t have to.” Your voice drips with sincerity, makes Bakugou take you in more. The softness of your face, the gentleness in your eyes that he’s never seen before, how the low light shadows the highest peaks of your cheeks. 

“Yeah, but I knew it bothered you in that moment, and I didn’t think we could ever fully move past everything if I didn’t clear the air.” He tells you, voice softening the more he speaks. His eyes grow kind, and it becomes too much too fast for you, so you hurriedly look away to the mug in the sink. 

“Guess you’re not too much of a pig to be around.” You retort back, always falling back on insults when conversations get too serious. You hear Bakugou snort, and you snap your eyes to the fond look on his face. He stares at you for entirely too long, makes your face grow much warmer than you’d like it to, before he pushes off of the counter. He places his second mug in the sink, and when he gets closer to you, breathing suddenly gets a little more difficult. 

You eye the pinkish scar still on his shoulder, and now you understand why it doesn’t give you the same gratification that it usually does. You glance back at his eyes, and the soft look he reserves for you, flinching a little when his arm raises. But he only pats you on the top of the head once, his hand heavy, making you bow a little under the weight. 

“Get some sleep, nerd.” Bakugou tells you gently, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice this quiet before. His lip quirks up in a tiny smile, and he starts off into the hallway. But you find yourself blurting out before you can even think about it,

“What would the conditions be if I agreed to become a Pro Hero?” Your voice is shaky, unsure ground you’re settling on as your eyes try to find his form in the swallowing darkness of the hallway. You hear his footsteps come to a halt, and you’re too afraid to look at him when he backs up in the entryway of the kitchen. 

“So, you agree? To become a hero?” Bakugou asks slowly, and you’re terrified to look him in the face, see the curiosity, the hope, meld into his features. You shake your head abruptly. 

“Not until I know the conditions.” You tell him firmly, looking up to find his face in the shadows, how the carmine of his eyes seemingly gleams in the darkness. It both unsettles and calms you when the tiniest hint of a smile graces his features. 

“We can talk about it in the morning.” He tells you, nodding his head once, looking to you for confirmation. But you only eye him as you hop down from the counter, and place your mug beside his own two in the sink. 

“Along with the rent?” You bite at him, aware that he still hasn’t given you a price yet. But Bakugou only grins at you, shrugging, as he starts his way back down the hallway again. 

“Possibly.” He shrugs before he disappears into the darkness, waving over his shoulder. “Goodnight.” 

You mumble a goodnight under your breath, face entirely too warm for your liking. Maybe you’re catching a cold, you think. Because there can’t be any other explanations to feeling like this when Bakugou is around. 

Right?

…

You guys don’t talk about rent in the morning, and instead only about the conditions of you becoming a hero. Bakugou sets up an online meeting with Deku and Yuu to discuss what would become of you if you do agree. 

Condition #1: No more being a vigilante. (You figured that, but hearing it out loud still made your face sour.)

Condition #2: You shadow Dynamight most days when he patrols, so you’re not alone out in the field for the first year. (That’s a long commitment, you had told Bakugou, and he only frowned at you before turning back to the screen.)

Condition #3: You start actual hero training with a private tutor that will be funded by the agency Dynamight works at. (Why is everything centered around him? You mumble to yourself, which makes the blond bristle and mumble that no one else would take your rude ass.) 

Condition #4: Your Red Medusa tattoo has to be covered at all times in public, and you must pick another name for yourself that does not include red nor Medusa. (That one isn’t as reasonable as you wish it could be—there’s an attachment to the name. How can they expect you to just drop it, dead and weightless, like it meant nothing? Leave it to die in the streets, the same way you almost did?)

Condition #5: Do not let anyone know who you used to be. (Are you gone? As you sit here in Bakugou’s kitchen, have you already ascended, have you already had your memorial? Have they already snuck you into soft earth and Frankenstein’d your remains?) 

You tell them that you’ll think it all over, but you agree for the most part. You can ask Yuu about bringing in Vanity once you’ve proven yourself to not be a lost cause, but that’s if she would even be willing to change who she is for the justice system. In all honesty, you doubt it. But you don’t think it’ll hurt to try. 

Bakugou closes his laptop once the call is over, turning in his seat at the kitchen table to face you. You’re in your head, gnawing at your bottom lip as you mull everything over. 

Is this really what you want? To put your days of being a vigilante behind you? Can you really stomach saving just anybody, even if they don’t deserve it? Can you even fathom the attention you’ll get, positive and negative, at an even bigger rate than before? Knowing everyone will have access to your name and your face and your body and—

“Hey.” A gruff voice calls out to you, and your eyes snap over to find vermillion ones already staring back at you. You hadn’t realized just how tight your chest had gotten, how your breaths had started picking up, your hands shaking against the granite table. You search Bakugou’s eyes for some kind of safety net, some kind of tether that will anchor you back onto this plane. 

“Don’t overthink it. Do what’s best for you, yeah?” He says so quietly, as if it weren’t just you two in his spacious loft. But it works, the softness, makes you whisper back a quiet okay, your voice tiny as you place your feet in your chair to rest your chin on your knees. Bakugou stares at you for a couple of beats, speaks before he sees you sink too deep into your head again. 

“Ready to get some early training in?” He asks you, corner of his lip lilting when you instantly furrow your brows in confusion. 

“But I thought you didn’t work today?” You mutter, frowning at him when he stands and rests his hands on his hips, almost as if in waiting. 

“I don’t,” he shrugs. “But I figured this could be good for you. Know you like beating someone’s ass from those viral videos of you.” 

You think back on the many videos of you while in the streets, doing your vigilante work. A couple of times when your gun had jammed, or it was knocked too far away from you, or you ran out of ammo and had to resort to hand to hand combat. Those moments were always thrilling, and it would take you back to your days of self defense training. How your instructor would yell at you, push you to go harder, to not show mercy because the other person would never grant you the same grace. 

Every time you had to use your fists, you would always picture the person as your attackers’ faces. Every single one of them. Their smug faces suddenly blue and black, swollen and bleeding, begging at your feet for some reprieve, the same way you used to do. Hand to hand combat made you nervous if you didn’t have the safety of your gun, but it also gave you so much power you never felt as if you had before. 

“Yeah, I’m ready to go whoop some hero ass.” You nod, eyes far away as you stand from your chair. Bakugou has to take a step back as you almost bump into him, and he shakes his head at you as you make a beeline for your room, suddenly determined. 

“Can’t say that, when you’re gonna be a hero soon, too!” He calls out to you, but you only flip him the bird. He can’t say he didn’t expect it. 

chapter seven

please do not repost or rec on tik tok!

tag list: @endlessfreaky@iamaconfusedpan

[isisthedemon]

Sneak Peak

I have something exciting to announce, I’ve been working on a big Poppy Playtime fan fiction project and I’m so excited to share it! It’s not done but I did get a chunk of it done. The person who’s reading over it really likes it.

This takes place in the same world as the Hunger Games but it will focus on the Experiments, rather than the humans. There is still a lot of human interaction but more focus will put on torturing the lives of the Experiments.

Meet our main character, 5988. A Doey Experiment made out of four females from the Playcare orphanage. Yes those are piercing in their face, it’s he style of one of their personalities.

And I feel like just one little drawing on my homework isn’t enough. So how about a little bit of my work?

————————————————————————

“What’s all this junk?” I ask as I pull put top hat from a wooden chest. “It’s some stuff to test what we do when confronted with consumes, or how we respond to touch. Like fluff or scales. Oh! Here!” Doey grabs me a hat with a red bow on it. “Look at it!” I grab my hat and look at it. It’s a small, deep blue hat was my hands. The red ribbon made it feel… different. More me. I put the hat on my head. “I love it!” “You’re supposed to-“ “I’m keeping it on. In fact… I might as well go all out!” I say as I grab some fabric. “Uh… our skin kinda likes to suck in the fabric. Maybe try with something small and non fabric.” 4600 asks and looks around the room. I find a mirror and look at myself in a mirror. I looked like just about every Doey, but I felt fat. Lethargic. Gross. I pinch my belly in disgust. I lift up my belly and release it, watching it jiggle. I watch as my eyes start to get wiggly. “5988?” Doey looks at me with concern. “What are you doing?” “Nothing.” I say. I look around the room and find those linking rings that magician use. I morph my arm through them and use them as bracelets, the where big enough to be considered a bracelet. But small enough to stay in my arms I put two on my right arm and two on my left arm. “Hey, I found these.” Doey says was he holds out a hand full of piercings. “Sweet! And now I don’t have the repercussions having holes in my face.” I say and grab them. ‘You’re going to feel little pricks, nothing to worrisome.’ Arabella says. I look in the mirror and study my face. I pick up one of the ones that look like a small curve with two gray dots at the end. ‘What are you doing?’ Sabrina asks with a hint of challenge. ‘You do not get to speak right now Sabrina!’ All of us say at her. “What are we feeling? Eyebrow or anti eyebrow?” I ask aloud to myself. “Hm?” Doey walks up to me. “What are you doing?” “Piercings one of mine wears these all the time.” My fingers manipulate into something smaller to unscrew the ball on the piercing. A hand stretches out of my shoulder and a little bit of pain is felt. It was nothing really, more of like I stubbed my toe. I felt a little prick as the piercing was placed above my left eye. The hand screws it back in and I look at myself in the mirror. I felt more human with this. I grab an ear cuff and place in on my lip for a fake lip ring. I pull my lip down and watch as my body screws in sometimes call ‘shark bites’. I look at myself again. I liked myself a little more. “How to I look?” I walk over to 4600 and spin. “Oh my god! You look amazing 5988! It’s very unique!”

————————————————————————

So yeah, that’s what I’ve been working on. I’m super excited, and can’t wait to show you all the final project. I’ve even been thinking about adding some art to the fan fiction, make it feel more alive. But you’ll have to let me know.

I’ve not died (I think) just been super busy with writing. I hope that I can post some more drawing, and get this fan fic ready for all of you to read.

I hope you all have an amazing day!

[neonponders]

Part 35 for @wrecked-fuse ‘s pocketverse ~

( A special honorable mention to @akioukun for this one 🦈 )

Part 34 (main plot)

Part 31 & 32 (werewolf!Billy chapters haha)

( pt. 7′s art 🎩 ) ( pt. 9′s art 👀 ) ( pt. 14′s art 💨 ) ( pt. 19′s art 🦇 ) ( pt. 20′s art 🍳) ( pt. 27’s art 🦦 )

~ on ao3 ~

• • •

Steve awoke with two clarities: One, he was drooling. Two, tiny hands were touching him.

“I think he’s waking up!”

“Is he stiwll leaking?”

Steve fumbled to get a hand up to his mouth. For all the good it did, Billy’s shirt had caught most of the drool. Steve had no idea when he had started using Billy’s chest as a pillow, but now he mumbled, “Yum.”

The littles giggled as Billy asked, “Yum? ”

“You’re not as bony as I thought you’d be.”

“And your brain says yum? I always knew you were a tiny tits man.”

Steve heard himself laugh stupidly with morning vulnerability, but he got to have Billy’s baritone right in his ear.

The smaller version walked over Billy’s chest to stand very close to Steve’s eyes. “What’s for bweakfast, Stevie?”

Brain function was not an option at the moment. “What’s f’breakfast, Billy?”

Steve and the littles rose and fell with Billy’s deep breath. “Waffles and sausage.”

“Yummy!” little Steve exclaimed as he ran to hug small Billy. Big Steve lifted a hand to gently rub his mini’s back before receding off Billy’s chest. He covered a huge yawn with his hand and moaned into the stretch it devolved to.

“Oh no,” small Steve warned before he too yawned. Billy looked down at both littles catching Steve’s yawns and huffed. The movement of his chest made them topple over.

“Hey!” his little scolded. “We’wre standing hewre!”

Little Billy looked down at his hands and tried to wipe them on his shorts. “Ugh, Stevie. Why d’you leak when you sweep?”

Steve sat up and offered his hands to them. “It means I’m sleeping great.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” the little Billy countered, but little Steve held his hand up to his mouth when big Billy looked at him.

“Biwwy weaks too,” he giggled, and ran to jump onto Steve’s hands.

The focus of the morning became the bathroom and breakfast, until Steve said to Billy with a fork laden with waffles, “Do you want to go to the aquarium?”

The littles perked up to listen on the coffee table, while Billy otherwise processed that. “Aquarium...isn’t that kind of a hike?”

“If we left after breakfast, we’d be there by lunchtime.”

Billy’s brows pinched dubiously as he gestured with his fork. “What’s the longest you had these two in a car?”

Steve’s eyes went wide in that way he had, when small Billy knocked a fist - ding! ding! - against a plate for their attention. “Aqwarium? Like with fishies?”

Steve nodded, and the little man’s jaw went slack with wonder. The former reached for his juice as he added, “It’s an off-day, too. There won’t be many people there.”

Billy disagreed, “It’d be better if there were crowds. Nobody’s watching anybody in a crowd.”

Little Steve exclaimed, “Then we bwing more people! Eddie and Chwissy can come!”

Big Steve sat up just as quickly as he slumped at the intended company. Billy chuckled and licked his lips, suddenly much more on board. “Come on. Watching Munson try to behave in a family friendly environment will be hilarious.”

The phone calls were made and a deal was struck to meet at the aquarium. Steve figured out how to secure the littles’ shoebox room on his backseat so they wouldn’t have to be seatbelted to their beds the whole time, and climbed out of his car to face Billy with a fist in the air. “What are you doing? A magic trick?”

“Rock, paper, scissors for who drives.”

Steve barked a laugh. “It’s my car. I’m driving.”

“Driver picks the music,” Billy refuted.

"How about you pick the music but I pick the volume,” Steve said as if that were the end of the discussion. This...surprisingly worked, although it meant the music played low enough for little Steve and Billy to yell along to the lyrics.

Somehow, Eddie and Chrissy beat them there. Chrissy jumped in the parking garage when Steve honked his horn, but got out of the way for him to turn into the space next to Eddie’s van. She waved a hand as the other put a cross-body bag over her head and Steve turned the music off.

“Hi, guys. Thanks for inviting us.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, less enthused, “thanks.”

Chrissy pointed accusatory eyes at him and apologized, “He’s worried about Eds’ excitement.”

“What’s wong with being excited?” said the little one, himself. He flew out of Chrissy’s bag and through one of her gold hoop earrings. “DING! Ten points!”

She laughed, “You’re getting better. Now behave. I’ll be sad forever if we lose you.”

“You can’t lose me. I’m too big!”

Small Chrissy called from Eddie’s battle vest pocket, “Eddie! Stay with me! What if therwe are spiders?”

Big Eddie consoled as his little guy joined Chrissy in the pocket, “No spiders under the sea.”

However, big Chrissy pointed out, “Crabs. They’re just armored spiders.”

Eddie opened his mouth, but froze, stuck and unable to argue that one.

Steve laughed after helping his littles into Billy’s shirt pocket under his leather jacket. “Let’s get our tickets.”

Since Billy and Eddie carried the small cargo, they stood back while Chrissy and Steve bought their tickets. Steve let Chrissy go first, after which she handed Eddie his ticket. He smiled, “I like the lady handling the money.”

Her lips flapped with her exhale as she fanned her face and Billy opened a map pamphlet. Behind the large paper, he held his jacket open. “Where to first?”

Steve joined them and Billy got his ticket. “There’s an interactive otter thing in five minutes.”

“Ottewrs!” small Steve called from the pocket.

Eddie’s pants crinkled suspiciously as he took a hand out of a pocket, which held a potato chip. “How’s it interactive?” he asked before a bite, and then held the chip inside his own jacket. They all heard the telltale chomp! chomp! from his denim vest pocket.

Chrissy paraphrased while she read the back of her ticket and Steve led the march to the otter exhibit. “We can give them enrichment toys.”

Eddie tipped his head as he thought about it. “Little dudes are smart. Smart becomes reckless without enrichment.”

Billy smirked at him. “Speaking from experience?”

“No, I’m speaking of myself.”

That gave Billy pause. “You failed senior English three times.”

“It’s failed enrichment, is what it is!”

“Guys,” Steve corralled as they came in sight of a staff member in the otter exhibit. She greeted them with a smile and took them into some back hallways usually reserved for the handlers. The experience was less interactive with the otters and more informative about how they lived in captivity. The animals had everything from floating basketball hoops, blocks, and every manner of things to occupy their little hands.

They did, however, get to have a closer look at feeding time. It wasn’t much, just staying behind an acrylic partition while the otters sleuthed through the water with their fish, or beat a clam against the fake rocks right next to them.

Little Billy and Steve were more invested in the clam opening than they realized, because as soon as it cracked open with a satisfying sound, they screamed in victory. One of the animal handlers frowned, following the sound, for which Billy dodged, “She really loves otters.”

Chrissy lifted confused eyes on him, but took the blame with grace.

On their way out of the staff area, Billy let one of his steps sag so that he collided with Steve, “Did you see those basketball hoops? Who would win if we were otters?”

“Me, obviously. Co-captain of the swim team.”

“Swimming in a pool isn’t shit compared to the ocean. And I remember beating you in basketball.”

“I told you I lifeguarded, and we trained in the lakes. Is this going to come down to freshwater versus saltwater? Because those were freshwater otters, and I’d own your ass in a lake.”

“I’m so impressed by an animal with only catfish for competition.”

Steve smiled mirthlessly at him. “Well I guess we’ll never know - ”

Little Steve interrupted, “Biwwy, are you saying you’d be an otter with us?”

Big Steve smiled more genuinely at Billy being caught in the line of fire. Billy visibly thought over that before his lashes hung heavily over his glassy blue eyes. “Someone’s gotta stand between the little guys and the sharks.”

“Sharwks!” small Billy clipped.

Billy drawled, “It’s not that deep - ”

“SHAWRKS!” he bellowed, pointing out from Billy’s chest as they all realized what room they were in. Wall to wall, the octagonal room domed over their heads so they were in a bubble of glass, water, reef, and all who lived there.

“The flwoor is prwetty!” small Chrissy chimed, gazing at the shimmering, mosaic floor mirroring the various aquatic life around them.

The bigger Chrissy read a standee and narrated, “They’re black-tipped reef sharks. Aw, they’re like when a dog or cat has that paint-dip on their tails.”

However, small Billy’s eyes were huge as he gazed at one swimming over their heads. “They’wre beautiful...”

Eddie stood beside Billy, allowing his little to look over at small Billy and ask, “What’s pretty ‘bout ‘em?”

Small Billy waved his arm outside of the shirt pocket. “Wook at ‘em! He’s not awone at all! He’s cool. He’s got fishies everywhere; colorful fishies and trees - ” Billy shrieked and pointed to a very large, abnormal fish. “SCAWRY MERMAID!”

Big Steve smiled. “That’s a scuba diver, honey bee. It’s just a guy in a suit.”

“What’s he doing with my shawrks?” he accused.

“Feeding - ” Steve began, but then gaped at the guy catching a shark by its nose. “Uh...playing with them.”

All the littles gasped and watched the diver carefully tread water so his fins did not harm the coral. Whatever his original task, the sharks clearly knew him, based on how they swam right to him and rolled their eyes back when their noses booped his palms.

Chrissy laughed and pointed at the standee. “It says sharks have great sense of smell. It probably feels really nice to have their noses pet.”

The diver waved to them, and they all waved back as he tried his best to reroute the sharks’ swimming paths while he otherwise guided a hose to the aquarium floor for a vacuuming.

[rizardofether]

Meeting of the Inquest

A short story of my Inquest characters meeting each other. Main focus on Rouk and Rell.

Rouk was sitting on a couch in the break-room of an Inquest lab. He was waiting for his next job to come. Just then an asura with strikingly bright green hair walked in.

“Hi there! You’re Rouk, right? Gotta be! You’re the modified big and strong muscle guy here!” The smaller asura grinned, twirling around the table in the room. Rouk looked at him with confusion. He had never seen this guy before, but could he be a superior here with a job for him?

“Right! My name is Rell! My job is to dispose of any unwanteds of the Inquest! Sometimes I just go dispose of some by myself just for fun too though. Anyway! I wanted to try working together with you, exchange some techniques. I wonder, are you strong just from the enhancements, or do you do muscle training as well?” He leaned closer to Rouk, examining his body with interest.

“No.” Rouk refused immediately. If it wasn’t an order from a superior, he would not get tangled up with anything messy. And this guy seemed very messy. He turned his head away, ignoring Rell.

“Oh, come on! Don’t you ever wanna let loose? Have some fun? Aren’t you bored? I’m very bored right now, and thought I’d find a kindred spirit here. Guess I assumed wrong!” Rell huffed, jumping on the other side of the couch, crossing his arms and pouting. Rouk was perfectly fine to ignore his antics though. The silence only lasted for a moment though.

“Augh! What are you doing just sitting here anyway? Is it not boring for you?” Rell grabbed Rouk’s arm, trying to pull him closer, unsuccessfully. Rouk shook his arm free with ease.

“Waiting for orders.” Rouk replied shortly, continuing to turn away from Rell.

“How about I give you some?!” Rell smiled with excitement.

“Not qualified.” Rouk shook his head.

“Hmph! Do you even do anything with your free time or do you just seriously sit around doing nothing?!” Rell raised his voice, slamming his hands on the table in front of them. “Ouch!” He immediately recoiled, rubbing his hands.

“... No.” Rouk remained firm.

“You’re seriously boring! Fine! I’ll go on my own to find something to do!” Rell huffed again. Just as he was about to leave, another asura caught his attention. He ran up to a blue haired asura who was just passing by.

“Hey, hey! You’re Nizz, aren’t you?! The one infamous for the kinds of cruelties you’ve committed? I’m Rell, and I was thinking-”

“Silence! Like I’d ever associate with the likes of you!” Nizz looked at Rell with contempt.

Rell fell silent, more so than the loudmouthed asura had been so far. Just as Nizz was about to continue on his way, Rell raised his arm, summoning fire to his hand.

“Ahaha! Is that so?!” He snarled, taking Nizz by surprise. Before either of them could act, however, Rouk had grabbed onto Rell’s raised arm.

“No fighting.” He looked down at Rell, his face even more terrifying than normal. The three of them stood there in silence for a moment, watching each other and considering what to do.

“...Fine! I’ll just go! You’re such buzzkills, both of you!” Rell extinguished his flame. Rouk nodded and let go of his arm. Rell stuck out his tongue at the two of them while walking away.

“Uh.. Thank you..” Nizz said quietly, looking at Rouk with a sullen expression Rouk wasn’t sure the meaning behind.

“Just doing my job.” Rouk replied.

“Um, well.. If you ever need help from me, just let me know.” Nizz offered with a half-smile.

“Huh… Okay..?” Rouk raised his brow in confusion.

“Alright, I’ll return to my duties now, see you around.” Nizz smiles once more before leaving the room, leaving Rouk alone in confusion.

The room is once again left completely silent.

[skalidra]

Fic Writers Showcase Game

@there-must-be-a-lock tagged me!

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason.

~~

First fic published on Ao3: That would be The Other Side of the Mirror, an Earth-3 continuity mess with a JayDick main pair, featuring Roy as a 3rd PoV. First chapter was posted in September, 2014, currently 200k, 20 chapters , and as of yet unfinished, though I think as it stands it ends on a decently hopeful note. I do still recall the main plot points of where it goes, and would like to finish it someday.

Last fic published: I posted the first chapter of Five Finger Discount just yesterday, which is the 5th piece in my Worth Counting series, an alpha!Slade/alpha!Jason series exploring a variety of kinks but with a focus on non-formal dom/sub vibes, competence/strength kink, and mostly-play fighting. (The last finished story was Shifting Into Fourth which is the 4th piece of that same series, so, I'm a little bit on a theme here.)

Fandom/ship I only wrote once: I uh. I wrote Hamilton/Jefferson/Madison room-where-it-happens porn. For the Hamilton musical. It's called Do Whatever It Takes and I think it is still the thing that makes me feel the most sinfully dirty of all the things I've ever written. So there's that.

I also have Let's Be Clear, which is my only fic set anywhere in the MCU, and is a Daredevil oneshot of an asexual!Wesley being invited to join a Fisk/Vanessa relationship, as I vibed real hard with Wesley as a character and never really got over his unfortunate demise.

(Honorable mention to my four stories that are technically fandoms of their own, but all fall under the 'DCU' umbrella, being for the Arkham games, two shows in the CW Arrowverse, and the Teen Titans cartoon.)

Favorite fic in most popular fandom/ship: This is a little hard to quantify. Technically 'DCU (Comics)' comes in at 93k in stories, which would make JayDick the most popular pairing, which makes my favorite story Captain's Privileges. It's a Star Trek mirror!verse fusion with Captain!Dick and Engineer!Jason and so many unhealthy relationships everywhere, and I love it.

However! 'DCU (Comics)' is a very broad umbrella and it's not really fair to say it's my biggest fandom, since the slice I belong to is much smaller. Which means the more accurate winner is Voltron, at 85k stories. I technically have a Klance story but given that it is a big poly clusterfuck dark!fic I really have to actually give this to the second most popular pairing by stat, Sheith. Out of those, I think my favorite is I'm Not That Man, which was an early false-memories/brainwashed!Shiro fic set just before the wormhole split them all up.

Fic I wish more people read: An Extra Shot, hands down. Come read my gen, Wilson-family-focused exploration of what happens if Adeline dies during the attack on Joey! Come read Slade Wilson being forced into confronting the fact that he is a terrible dad and also now a widowed dad of three kids! Come read Billy trying his best to bludgeon all the terrible communicators of this family into actually working things out! READ THIS. THERE'S A SEQUEL IN PROGRESS. IT'S GOOD I SWEAR.

Fic that was hardest to write: I think the award for this has to go to Me, Not Her, a CaptainPan/CaptainSwan piece which I was apparently so frustrated with at some point that I straight up deleted the file. Four years later (no I am not kidding) I had the vague memory of it. Some sketchy thing I could maybe expand, now that I was having thoughts about OUaT again. I pull it out of the (then eternal) trash of Google Drive. It is five thousand words long and needs no more than pretty basic editing and a little padding at the end to round it off. I don't know what the hell was happening with me when I deleted it, but wow, lesson learned.

Fic that popped out fully-formed: I don't recall any that were explicitly like this, but I also don't tend to write like, neat little packaged stories all that often. If I'm writing oneshots they're usually for events. So my best answer to this is probably Fucking Androids? It's a Reed900 relationship origin story that blazed its way out of me during NaNoWriMo one year, named entirely for the sex pun and then in the end absolutely refusing to have any sex in it, so it won that fight. I remember at least most of it coming really, really easy.

Fic I'm proud of: Pulling out a weird little one, here. I'm going to say Take a Ride. It's a JayDick, Gotham City Garage story that I wrote for Firefright's birthday one year, and on reread I actually still really, really like it? It's just a neat apocalyptic-desert vibe relationship building thing, set in the criminally under-explored and rushed GCG world, and I really like how I put Dick together in this one. I recommend it.

~~

Not tagging anyone specific, but if anyone would like to do this as well, feel free!

[commenter2]

I'll be okay with Hazbin Hotel season 2 only having 8 episodes IF that season mainly focuses on the smaller stuff, like Charlie again trying to focus on redeeming sinners and the Vee's plans against the main characters.

As much as I want to see more big moments about things such as Lilith and what she has been doing all this time, getting hints about Eve and Roo, seeing Charlie interacting with angels like Jesus Christ and her angelic aunts/uncles, and seeing other HH characters like the von Eldritch family and Crymini (who again I think should be a Hellhound) I would like to see those stories be expanded and explored properly and not be rushed in a small season like Vivize and the writers had to do for Hazbin Hotel season 1.

I got a few ideas for what the 8 episodes can be about related to these things:

The season premiere has the hotel crew meeting their new resident Baxter. I can see the episode going over several other things such as the aftermath of the season 1 finale, like how stopping the Extermination has made the Pride ring a little crowded and sadly the characters learn there is going to be another Extermination happening in about 9 months. We could learn that Charlie has a bit of PTSD from the battle and is still guilty about Pentious' death. Maybe as a way to coup wiht this she has doubled her efforts to find a way to get sinners into Heaven.

I also could see such an episode having a plot point where people are checking into the hotel BUT most don't want to actually be better people, something Baxter does at first before slowly changing, so Charlie and co. now need to weed out those that want to be redeemed from those just using the hotel for various purposes. I could see the last idea being the premise of its own episode, as it would be a great way to add several characters to the hotel staff/group at once.

Exploring Vox and Alastor's past. This could explore a bit of Alastor's human life, but also what happened to Alastor 7 years ago. Great way to start dabbling into the Roo (or Lilith if you believe in that) connection theory.

Charlie trying to terminate Angel's contract with Valentino once and for all. I have brought up the question why Charlie hasn't made Angel leave his job as a requirement of him staying at the hotel and after seeing how badly Val treats Angel and with the Vees being the main antagonist of S2, this should happen. This would basically be like Helluva Boss's mid season 2 episode but I can see it being more dramatic and pleasing to see Val lose. this can also lead to Val getting more motivated to take down the hotel crew in the end.

Charlie goes to Lucifer for information on how Heaven and Hell decided who goes where after they die, in hopes of finding a clue or angle for her redemption program. This episode could also count as the eventual flashback episode showing how Lucifer and Lilith met, the whole apple thing, and the war between God and Lucifer's forces. Charlie could learn the shocking truth about how something really went down compared to the version she was told/led to believe.

A episode in Heaven where we see Sir Pentious getting use to Heaven while he and Emily deal with Lute. Like I brought up in my first season 2 episode idea post, they could decide to disobey Sera's orders and try to contact Charlie to show that redeeming sinners is possible.

Alastor cashes in the favor Charlie owes him by asking her to show her a legendary item or place, which leads to Charlie taking him to a special area. In no time shenanigans happen like something gets stolen or gets out of the room, causing the two to clean up the mess before something bad happens. Along with seeing Charlie and Alastor bond, especially if we get more of Al's life in such an episode, there would be a twist at the end where we find out this was part of Alastor's plan/mission as someone else was able to get in the special area get either another item, read something from a powerful book, or something else mysterious. Maybe Mimzy steals something in it and we get some development from her and she joins the hotel.

An episode about Niffty and her backstory. She didn't get any serious development in season 1, and such a premise was one of the scrapped ideas for the original HH season 1. I could see this being a good episode that is more entertaining then doing anything to advance the main story.

Speaking of which, another scrapped HH episode had Angel getting kidnapped and Husk and co. go searching for him, especially Husk. That would be a GREAT episode to have airing before the season finale.

A crazed Lute performs the Extermination attack of Hell earlier than scheduled. The events here could lead to the season finale, as I could see the Vee's attacking the weakened Charlie and the other characters after they have just dealt with the angelic forces.

The finale would be a battle between the hotel crew and the Vees, where maybe near the end Emily and other heavenly forces come to aid Charlie' side. I can see it ending with the Vees being punished by Charlie like maybe Val and Vox temporarily lose their Overlord titles (though Velvette getting out of it somehow) but Heaven as an apology for Lute's actions says that while the angels are currently debating on the topic, they will hear out Charlie's redemption plan again if she can redeem another sinner or two without aid from her father or and demons/angels before the end of a set deadline (AKA the season 3/4 finale). The season ends with everyone being happy until they are surprised by the appearance of Lilith at the hotel.

Another good thing about having season 2 focus o these things is that it will mean other, bigger stories will have to be told in later seasons and while currently mixed about Helluva Boss' planned 4 season run, I LOVE the idea of Hazbin Hotel having a lot of seasons.

Do you think these things should be the focus of Hazbin Hotel season 2? What could you see happening in it?

[rwfanficrw]

Visiting Hagi

Continuation of the story with Sayako. She and Rowen go visit the main Mori home to get her grandmother's help since their mom refuses to be of use.

POTS – Visit to Hagi

“Are you sure you’ll be ok on your own?”

Sage just smiles, “For once, I’m confident to say yes. I’ve got help here at my family’s home. They were nice enough to let us stay. It’s a large house, so we can stay away from everyone.”

Rowen looks to Sayako who hadn’t entered the Date Family home yet. “Do you want to say hello?”

“I will when we come back. He’ll just question why I’m here in the first place.” She shrugs pulling her over night bag up on her shoulder. “You told me he was confused enough when you and Sage brought him here.”

“Ok, I want to at least say hello and make sure he’s doing ok. Then I’ll be out.”

“Our train leaves in four hours so don’t take long.” She looks to Sage. “He said you had the paperwork?”

The blonde walks over handing her an envelope full of documents. “My Uncle flagged the ones that will necessary for the power transfer to happen.”

“Right. And I’ll fill them out on our way. Rowen will have to sign each one as well, right?”

“Yes but only after your grandmother does.”

“T-This feels so wrong, Sage. Just pulling this without our mother knowing.”

“Say, he needs this. The reason Cye was so confused as to what was going on – he hasn’t been awake long enough for us to explain it to him. The doctors said there were medications that could help lessen the chances of fainting this many times but we can’t try it unless we have the right signatures.”

“…and my mother refuses to help.” She hangs her head gripping the enevelope tightly. “S-She’s not the mother we grew up with, I promise.. s-something’s changed, Sage. She wasn’t always like this. When Cye was younger, she would have died for him before she’d let any harm come to him.”

“Spite can make us do evil things, Sayako. You can help give Rowen the ability to help Cye. Then if things ever do calm down between Cye and your mom, she’ll be grateful he’s alive to hear her apology.”

She nods wiping her eyes before straightening up. Sage gave a nervous smile before motioning her to the sitting room, “My sister made us tea. Kacy is still learning, but she does make good cookies.”

*~*

Rowen stood quietly in the doorway of the large bedroom they had helped Cye into. It was a more traditional room than what he was used to. He stepped in looking around for the futon before he found it.

He had to admit it actually looked comfortable. There were numerous pillows tucked around the smaller warrior’s body keeping him comfortable. And the futon comfortor was fluffy and looked warm.

He gets a small moan as the other starts to come back. Forcing a smile he hurries over and kneels beside him, catching the hand that goes into the air to figure out who was there. “Hey buddy, easy. I’m here. You fainted.”

“…Rowen..?”

“That’s me.” He sits down completely before pulling the comfortor down to the other’s waist. “Do you know where you are?”

“…the floor..?” The water bearer opened his eyes and looked around groggily. His vision was going in and out of focus as he tried to figure out exactly where he was. “..not my apartment.” He starts to sit up but only sags to the side being caught by the his friend.

“Woah, hey now. Don’ be tryin’ to sit up.” Rowen catches Cye as he sags against him hugging him to his side. “Look, I uh.. I have somethin’ I need to do for a few days.”

“What?”

“Yeah. We’re visiting Sage’s home and he’s going to stay with you, ok? I need ya to listen to him and tell him what’s goin’ on. You can’t be hidin’ stuff from him.” He gently eases the younger warrior back into the pillows getting a pained moan in response. “Can you do that for me?”

“…I-I guess so. I still don’t understand what’s going on…”

“I’ll explain it to you when I’m back, ok? Just rest and try to take care of yourself for a day.” He hated having tto leave his side and had numerous times asked the other two if Cye could come.

That was of course an impossible task right now. The trip to Osaka was way too much for him as it was and he would be bedridden for the next several hours at least.

Rowen knew it would be a happy miracle if Cye met him at the door tomorrow night when he returned. The more likely scenario would him be sitting up and standing/walking with Sage’s heavy supervision.

Cye nods slowly as he lays back into the numerous pillows and plush futon mattress, his eyes growing heavy. His hand weakly clung to Rowen’s sleeve as he didn’t want him to leave.

The other sighs as he smiles, “Go on. I’ll stay until you fall back asleep then Sage will be here when you wake up.” He reaches out placing a hand on the red hair keeping it there as he ran his hands through it gently.

It only took a few seconds with how exhausted the bearer of Torrent was. Rowen reluctantly pulled himself away from the weak grip and covered him back up before getting to his feet to go meet Sayako.

*~*

“Woah… this place is huge.”

Sayako smiles proudly, “This is where most of the Mori family live. We live at the secondary kiln that were opened around the __ period.”

Rowen tilts his head before his eyes widen, “Wait a second.. can Cye make-“

“He sure can! He’s better than I am by a lot. He’s almost as good as our mother.” She sighs pulling out the house key handing to him, “Cye made this when he was about to go into Middle School. I’ve kept it ever sense.”

“I’m surprised you were taught how to do it.”

“Oh because we’re not blood related? I am as well. I just remember when our father died that his family took us in. My mother was a mess and we were worried she wouldn’t live much longer. We all needed a distraction and my grandmother taught us how to throw clay. She stayed by us and we learned the ancient techniques that had been passed down for hundreds of years. Now, believe it or not, we run the secondary kilns. Both have been burning for centuries. The ones here have been going for 200 more years than ours. It’s fascinating.” She explains happily before taking a deep breath and knocks on the door.

A few long seconds pass before the door pulls open and an older lady stands in the doorway peering out curiously. “Ahh Sayako! It’s been so long since you visited us.” She looks past her to the young man standing on the sidewalk. He had blue hair and looked nervous. “And who did you bring with you?”

“This is Rowen. I spoke about bringing someone with me? We need your help, it’s about Cye. We think he’s sick, but Mother isn’t helping us a-and..”

The old woman’s eyes widened before moving out of their way, “Come in and tell me everything.”

*~*

“I see, what a terrible line of events. How long has this been happening?”

Sayako looks to Rowen for an answer, “I’m not sure. I was pulled in a month or so ago.”

Rowen looks up from the teacup he was drinking out of, “How much do you know of the armor that Cy- your grandson bears?”

“I know everything. His father and I were the ones who pushed him to find it.” She explained sitting back on her knees.

“After we finished our battles with that emperor from the Dynasty, we all kinda split ways for a bit. Ya know to go see family a-and stuff. Sage, our other friend who is helping with all of this, and I met up with Cye about six months ago. He fainted on us during lunch and from there it just spiraled. He woke up and seemed to be okay but fainted again less than an hour later. Sage and I took him home and it just got worse. The doctor doesn’t know whats going on and without signatures, we can’t run any tests.”

“Signatures?”

“Yes, Cye’s not legal yet in Japan. He still has two years.” Sayako explains. “It usually wouldn’t be that big of a deal. Me and mother would sign and be done with it..” Her head drops as she sniffles. “..b-but its not working out.”

“Sayako?” She asks reaching out to place her hand over her granddaughter’s, “What is going on?”

“Mother won’t sign. She won’t help. I had to drive over to the house and force her to do it a week ago. S-She said she wasn’t sure if it would help or not and refused to admit that he was even sick. Said it was going to happen because he moved out.” Sayako wipes her eyes her shoulders shaking. “I-I told her it maybe POTS. You know, like what she has? But she out right refused to believe it and just said Cye was faking it.”

“If he’s faking it, he deserves an Oscar.” Rowen adds sadly. “He’s not conscious for very long anymore and keep food down, the nausea and vertigo have gotten a lot worse… it’s gotten pretty bad.”

“Then we need to discuss this with your mother.” The older woman starts to move to get the phone when she feels hands on hers. She turns back and Sayako is crying this time. “S-Say…”

“It won’t matter. S-She doesn’t care. No matter what we say, or do, she won’t believe us.”

“I’m not sure what else I can do, my dear.”

“There is somethin’ ya can do.” Rowen sighs reaching into Sayako’s tote bag. He pulls out a document enevelope and undoes the clasp, papers come out and he hands them over. “I-It’s a little weird but we don’t know what else to do.”

She took the papers and sat back skimming over them, “….is this a form to sign over the Mori Haki stamp? Sayako, you can’t be asking this-“

“It’s just until he’s of age and it will only be used for the medical tests.”

“Where is Cye anyway? What does he think of this?”

Rowen’s eyes darkened, “He’s at Sage’s house and he’s not doin’ that great. We can try and call him if you’d like. I’m not sure he’d even be conscious.”

“He doesn’t know. But he’s not awake enough to know what’s going on most of the time. Rowen’s right, we can try and call.. but..”

“I’d like to at least try.”

Sayako looks back to Rowen, “Do you know Sage’s number?”

“Yeah.” He gets to his feet and pulls a paper out of his back pocket. “Mrs. Mori, I-I’m warnin’ ya.. it may not be pretty.”

She only nods moving to sit beside the small table the phone was on. She watches as he dials the number with shaking hands and reaches out before he can finish, “I won’t blame you if anything happens, I promise… I just need to hear him.”

Rowen glances over and nods putting the receiver to his ear. “Hey? Kacy is that you? Is Sage around? Oh? Cye’s awake? …only kind of. That’s okay. Can Sage do both?” He hears some rummaging, “Hey Sage.. yeah we’re in Hagi. His grandmother wants to talk to him. I know, I already warned her. Kacy said he was kind of awake? Okay, hang on.” He lowers the receiver and presses a button on the phone it’s self near the numbers. “There, can ya hear us? You’re on speaker.”

“I can hear you.” Sage’s voice answered him then continued but sounded softer, “Cye? Your grandmother wishes to speak to you… do you want to talk with her? I know, you don’t have to talk long. She’s worried.”

The speaker goes silent except for some rummaging before they hear a barely audible familiar voice. “…grandmother? I-Is everything alright? How did you get this number..?” He sounded dazed and exhausted, like it took a lot of energy to put words together. He was left breathless after it all came out.

“Sayako was telling me you aren’t doing very well…” She tried to contain the nervousness in her voice not expecting her grandson to sound that bad.

“…I-I’m alright..just…just dizzy a-and I keep fainting.”

“Are you seeing a doctor?”

“…not really.. I-I tried to go but they need mother’s signature a-and…” He trails off for a few seconds. “….s-she won’t sign them.” His voice broke slightly. “Says I don’t need the tests…”

“I will deal with that.” Her voice sounded angry for a split second before dropping back to normal, “Are you resting? You sound tired.”

“…exhausted. I-I can’t-“

His voice drops off and it sounds like he dropped the receiver. Rowen swallows nervously, “B-Buddy? Are you okay? …Cye?” He puts his ear close to the phone speaker trying to listen for the usual strangled gasp that came when Cye woke up from fainting. “Sage?!”

“I’m here. He fainted. I stepped away to get him a drink.” They can hear a worried sigh and grunt as something heavy is moved. “I’ve got him. Look, is that all? He really needs to be resting. I don’t mean to sound rude, but if I force him to get back on it will just get worse.”

“N-No, I apologize for bothering you when you’ve got your hands full helping my grandson out.”

“Mrs. Mori, we’re doing our best. But if you could help us with that one part, it would help immensely and we could run the tests he needs and figure out what’s going on.” Sage’s voice trails off, “He’s waking up. Forgive me, but we need to go. He’s going to get sick again.”

The phone hung up and left the room in silence. The older woman stared at the phone, her heart breaking. A pit of worry was forming in her stomach and anger was boiling to a point. “And your mother refuses to help?”

Both Rowen and Sayako nod silently.

“T-This is what he’s like every day?”

“Sadly, yes. He’s not been doing well.” Rowen starts to explain nervously. “Some days are better than others but-“

“I’ll do it. Where are the papers?” She turns around and picks them up from the floor.

Sayako fumbles for a pen out of her purse before handing it over. She watches relieved as her grandmother flicked through and signed everything.

“Your mother can wallow in herself pity but I won’t stand by and let her hurt you or Cye because of it. Get him the help he needs, Sayako… Rowen. Please do whatever is necessary. Money is not object. The Mori family will help in anyway we can.” She gets to her feet and walks down the hallway into a large bedroom.

Sayako and Rowen stand in the doorway watching curiously. She pulls out an old looking box and pulls layers out before finally getting to where she needed to be. She pulls out a small gray felt box and walks over, “I don’t need to tell you how important this is.”

“I-it’s a lot fancier than mine, that’s for sure.” Rowen attempts to joke as he swallows nervously. He watches as she puts the box in his hands before holding him there.

“It belonged to his father and his father before that.” She looks into his eyes with a serious determined gaze, “You must promise me that the day of his 20th birthday that you will give this to him.”

“Of course. That’s the plan. We hate havin’ to do this to begin with.” He smiles reassuringly.

Sayako walks over and hugs her grandmother tightly crying into her shoulder, “T-Thank you so much… w-we’re going to figure out what’s going on and I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything.”

Her grandmother hugs her tightly, “You’ve been such a great help to him as you always have. Stay strong, my dear. He needs you. He needs all of you.” She reaches out and squeezes Rowen’s arm.

*~*

Sage sits up groggily looking around his large room. He rubs his eyes looking to his side and saw Cye was thankfully still asleep. He reaches out and rests one of his hands on his friend’s head before hearing the noise again. “Kacy?” He calls out as softly as he can.

He slowly gets to his feet making sure not to jolt his friend then walks barefoot on the tatami matt, his orb appearing his hand out of habit. He pulls the door to the side and sees Rowen stumbling in the darkness trying to get his shoes off without touching the tatami in the hallway and failing miserably. “Rowen?”

The other startled and dropped his shoe hitting himself in the head with it. “S-Sage …s-sorry I-I … Kacy let us in.”

“Us? Is Sayako here as well?” He looks past Rowen to see his sister’s light on before the door closed. He sighs kneeling down and helps untie the other tennis shoe. “You could have let me know via the armor you two were coming back so soon.”

“It was kinda last minute. We’ve been on the bullet train for several hours. I lost track of what we were doing to be honest. She and I both decided we couldn’t stay another night away from Cye and we both came back.” He leans back embarrassed that the other had to help him take his shoe off. “I kinda forgot your house was full of Tatami …so.. don’t get mad?”

“It’s fine.” Sage’s voice was at a whisper as he sat the tennis shoes beside his door in a neat way. Then he stands and offers a hand down, “Come on. Cye is fast asleep but I know he’ll relax more knowing you’re here.”

“We got what we needed. She is angry with his mother.” Rowen whispered back as he got to his feet following the other into the room.

The room was inviting and warmer than expected. The door was slid open and the sound of the small waterfall could be heard.

He finds himself relaxing and sits down on the ground undoing his jacket. He lays it over the over night bag then turns and crawls over to Cye. “Hey buddy, I’m here.” His hand rests on the other’s waist.

“I have an extra yukata if you’d like to borrow one. Cye is wearing one of my winter ones but he got so cold. I never thought my room would be considered cold especially during summer.”

“Uh sure…” Rowen smiles nervously as he gets to his feet walking over to where Sage was. “Is it green?”

The other rolls his eyes before handing over a gray one, “No. Not everything I own is green.”

“Yeah uh huh. Just like everything I own isn’t blue.” He takes the offered garment before looking around. “Where do ya want me to strip.”

“Over there.”

“Fancy. A bamboo partisian.”

Sage sits back down and glances over making sure Cye was still asleep. “Was Sayako alright?”

“She broke down to her grandmother a-and well I don’t blame her. She did tell me that the Mori Family runs one of the oldest pottery shops in Japan. The kilns have been lit for hundreds of years.”

“Yes, my family owns several pottery pieces from them that date back to the __ period.”

“Apparently the main kiln is in Hagi and the secondary kiln is where Cye and his sister and mother live. The three of them were taught how to do it after his father passed away. Kind of neat actually.” Rowen walks out from behind the screen and attempts to tie his yukata.

“Let me help. If you do it wrong, you won’t be sleeping comfortably.” The blonde stands and ties the yukata closed without making a big knot. “There.”

Rowen sits down grinning, “So graceful about it all…” He looks around the room. “Ya know, I just realized… Cye probably grew up with a lot of this as well.”

“It makes sense. Most older families in Japan are very traditional. The Hashiba’s are as well aren’t they?”

“I-I wouldn’t know… I lived with my grandfather only a few years once I got to Japan. He had a house like this but I ran away as soon as I could. I could never get used to all of this. I was born and raised in New York. I kinda assumed that Cye was the same because of his accent.”

“It sounds like he was raised with both.”

“You knew didn’t you?”

This time a smile crosses the blonde’s features, “Yes. His mannerisms and ways he sits and removes his shoes. It indicated a home life like this. Just as yours indicated a more western life style.”

“Thanks.”

“Never said it was a bad thing. I can see the two ways of life are fighting for dominance with him though. You can hear his accent when he speaks Japanese and that is not an easy feat. Just as you speak with your accent as well.” Sage goes quiet as he lays out another futon. “I only have a rice pillows is that ok?”

“Are those the pillows that are hard as rocks?”

“They help your posture.”

“I’ll say they do.” Rowen shrugs, “Can’t be worse than the floor! Rice me!”

Sage rolled his eyes before pulling one out and placing it on the futon properly. “I’ll sleep here. You need to be beside him.”

“A-Are ya sure?” It was then he noticed the bedding was a forest green. He started to joke but heard a sleepy sigh from the younger one beside him. “He looks comfortable for once..”

The other nods, “I haven’t seen him sleep so peacefully before.. he’s always tossing and turning in his bed at home.” Then his eyes widen, “I wonder if a futon would help him sleep better until we know what’s going on.”

“it would be safer that’s for sure. He wouldn’t have to worry about fainting and fallin’ off the bed.”

“Its probably helping with the vertigo and nausea as well. He can feel the ground and know it’s not moving… alright. We’ll take this one back home when we leave.”

Rowen sits down and stretches before he attempts to freshen his pillow up. He glances around the room then to the closet door that was still open.

He could see an orange, red and dark blue futon sets in the dim moonlight. He glances back down and sees Cye is curled up on a skyblue one that had a fish pattern. He tilts his head, “…Sage, buddy.. do you keep color coded futons for each of us.”

“It’s only proper to have bedding for your friends ahead of time incase of an emergency. I didn’t pull yours out, I assumed you’d want to be next to Cye and share one.”

“You’re right as always.” He scoots under the covers and pulls them back over Cye and himself. He blinks as Cye moves closer in his sleep then smiles. His hand smoothing the red hair down, “Shh, I’m here, buddy.”

He glances over and sees Sage has already drifted back to sleep. He lays back the pillow not bothering him this time, he was so exhausted and just relieved to be back with them and have Cye curled up against him. His head dropped to the side as he fell asleep just as quickly.

*~*

Cye rolls over onto his back groggily as his body wakes him up from the vertigo. His hands grip the futon as if that would slow everything down.

He heard movement and expected Sage’s voice to greet him. “Easy buddy, just breathe through your nose.”

He tried to force his eyes open, “..r-ro?”

“It’s me. Feelin’ dizzy again?”

 A hand dropped onto his forehead and he relaxed as best he could. “…the room feels like its spinning one direction and the floor is spinning the other direction.”

“I’m happy to inform you that it’s not spinnin’ around as much as you feel like it is.”

He finally forced his eyes open and they slowly focused so he could see Rowen hovering over him with a smile on his face.

“Hey there. Good morning! We’re still at Sage’s house. Sayako and I came back late last night.”

His memory was hazy as he tried to remember why he was at Sage’s house and where his sister and Rowen went. “…I’m s-sorry I don’t remember…”

“It’s okay. Say and I went to see your grandmother. She signed the paper’s over and I now have “medical guardianship” over ya until you’re of age.” Rowen tries to explain it as best he can doing his best to keep it simple. “Basically, any test you need we now have the ability to get it taken care of.”

He could tell Cye wasn’t fully coherent. The bright green eyes unfocused and he looked confused. He smiles down as best he can, his hand pushing some of the red hair behind his friend’s ear. “Just relax. We’re going to get you back to your apartment and to the doctor as soon as we can. We’ll figure out whats happenin’ one way or another.”

He watches as Cye goes limp and sighs heavily, another fainting spell. It was a good thing he was on the floor. He didn’t have any where to fall this time.

“Rowen? Is Cye awake?”

“Was. He fainted again. He asked where we were, said he didn’t remember, but then he fainted before he could comprehend what I was telling him.”

“I have a doctor’s appointment ready a day after we get back. It will be a long day but they said they are going to run a lot of tests. Maybe we can get some answers.” Sage enters the room with a tray of food setting it beside Rowen. “Here is breakfast for the both of you.. at the very least I want to see if he can keep the rice pudding down.”

“If he stays awake long enough to eat it.”

“We have to try. You can’t tell me that whatever this is isn’t being made worse with him being unable to eat and have energy to fight it or to level it out.”

“No, you got a point.”

The art I made for this story.

[kny-stardust]

Chapter 13 — The Color Changing Katana

Word Count: 3559

Summary: You did it. You put an end to the tragedy that followed those you began to call family. You returned to your family, both old and new. However the two years and the struggling week among demons, were only the first step. A long road awaits you, but for now you receive your reward: a colorful blade heavy with meanings.

“I’m almost done… And… There it is.” Hanako cries with a proud smile as she leaves your back, smiling proudly. “Did you like it, sis?”

You look at the river close to the stone you’re sit in, and watch your reflection on the water. There, you can see your sister’s hard job on your hair. She was saying she wanted to braid your hair with a couple flowers she found by the river when she was walking around with Rokuta. She would usually do this to Nezuko, but your sister was an oni and you found it dangerous for her to leave at such a late time, so you decided to allow her to do so. Besides, you found it hard to say no to her big puppy eyes, not after two years without seeing them on a daily basis. After checking her job, you smile to her.

“It’s lovely, Hanako.” You tell her, hugging her tight. “Thank you, dear.”

“You’re welcome, sis!” She says smiling, before groaning a bit. “It’s… a bit too tight, sis.”

“My, oh, my. I’m sorry, Hanako.” You tell her, letting her go. You stand up and show her your hand. “Now, let’s go back, shall we?”

“Yes!” She says, holding your hand with her own, bringing a basket of flowers in the other.

Happily, the two of you began your way back to your uncle’s house.

It’s been around fifteen days ever since you returned from the Final Selection. You were greeted with a surprise when you found Nezuko and Tanjiro awake. You didn’t had much time to rejoice, since you fell asleep for two days straight. When you woke up, you found yourself in your siblings room, with Tanjiro and Nezuko in their smaller forms cuddled up to you along with Rokuta. Hantengu said it was probably because of all the physical and emotional stress, along with the lack of proper rest and food and the few wounds you sustained that lead you to that point.

You’ve made a full recovery from that time and were spending quite the little time you had left with your siblings before you began your actual job. Your sword should arrive today, but you still had no news from whoever was supposed to deliver it to you.

Although you worried about it, your main focus was being with your family.

“We’re home!” Hanako cried happily as you reached home and found your uncle and Takeo doing something outside. Your brother flinched at your sister’s high pitch.

“We’re home, uncle.” You said too, but on your normal tone, to not bother him.

“Welcome back.” Hantengu said, before noticing that your hair had flowers in it. “Oh, what is that? Did you do a make over on your sister’s hair, Hanako?”

“Yes! Isn’t she pretty like this?” Your sister asked proudly.

“Yes. The prettiest in the area.” Your uncle said, chuckling lightly at the small girl’s behavior.

“It doesn’t make much of a difference.” Takeo said, rubbing his ear.

“What do you mean?” Hanako asked, pouting.

“I mean, even back at the village, (Y/N) has always been the prettiest. She has even received marriage proposals.” He said, patting your sisters head. “So, it doesn’t change much.”

“Well, well. It seems that my dear niece is actually pretty popular among the opposite sex. Should I worry about it?” Hantengu asked, as if in deep thought, but with a mischievous smile on his lips.

“Uncle!” You called him on it, but he just laughed.

“There. There. Don’t take it too seriously.” He said while chuckling. “I know I don’t have to worry about it. You’re so focused on your family that the boy would actually have to be a god to get your attention.” You blushed at his words, making him laugh louder.

“Anyway, what are you two doing?” You asked them, trying to quickly change the subject from your non-existent love life.

“We're making a box to carry brother and sister.” Takeo said.

“Carry them?” You asked him, confused.

“I believe that once you find a cure for, you'll want to give it to them as soon as possible, won't you? It will be faster if they are with you.” Hantengu said, adjusting the box. “Besides, your siblings can be of help. Demons are strong on their own, and I believe Tanjiro and Nezuko want to help you on their own way too. You've been working hard for them these past two years, right? They want to pay you back.”

His words leave you silent as you turn to the house, where you knew Tanjiro and Nezuko were.

“How do you know that?” You ask him.

“Well... Tanjiro read the journals you made while you were asleep, and he cried. Then, he spent the next two days pulling my sleeve as if trying to ask me something, but he couldn't speak.” He said, scratching the back of his head. “I just assumed it was it, but I guess I was right, since he was happy when I told him what I would do.”

“I see.” You whispered, then turned to him. “Thanks, uncle. I don't know what I would have done without you.” You smiled to him as you said so.

“You're welcome, (Y/N).” He says, looking at you, before his eyes go wide and he tiltes his head to look at something behind you.

You notice this, prompting you to turn around and see what he was looking at, with Hanako and Takeo doing the same. There was a person coming in the direction of the house, using an ajirogasa (japanese straw hat) over their head, a long, black cape with crossing white lines, black pants and boots and really big something wrapped in a cloth on their back. You couldn't tell much about them, except that they looked short, certainly shorter than you, but taller than Tanjiro, considering that your brother hasn't grown at all in these two years.

“Hey, Hanako.” Your uncle called, getting the attention of all of you. “Would you mind making some tea? For our guest?” He asked, standing up, to which your sister just nodded, rushing to the house. “Takeo, could you help her?” Your brother also nodded, following her soon behind.

“A guest, uncle?” You asked as he walked to your side.

“Yes. Today is the day your sword arrives.” He told you, before looking at the arriving person. “Although, I didn't expect for it to be him.”

Him? Was this person someone your uncle knew?

You looked at the person who stopped a couple meters away from you two. Silence settled between the three of you

“Long time no see, Zohakuten. It's been what? Five years without even a letter?” Your uncle was the first to talk. His tone was light, but you could sense his body tense and his racing heartbeat. The silence remains, so your uncle continues. “You sure have grown in this time. How's your grandfather? The same nagging old man I knew?”

The silence remains for some time, but none of you speak a word. The tension in the air was so dense that you could cut it with a blind knife.

“It's really been really a long time, father.” The person, Zohakuten, said taking off his hat. The voice is deep, but when you see the face, you realize is a young boy, around the age of your brother. Looking at him, you could see the resemblance between him, your uncle and your auntie. He had your uncle's tan skin and firm expression, especially his glare, but he had your auntie's eyes, like all of his brothers (you knew that Karaku and Urogi had the same eyes as Sekido and Aizetsu cause you saw their picture from when they were younger). His eyes were golden, like Urogi's. He also had a pair of purple string-like earrings. “You look better than I thought you'd be.”

“I can't really blame you. I definitely wasn't on my best shape when we last spoke.” Your uncle said, with a sorrowful shine in his eyes. “From what I see, you certainly been doing well. I can assume you became a fully fledged swordsmith?

Zohakuten nodded before turning to face you. You couldn't help but flinch under his gaze. Should a child have such an intense glare?

“I didn't know Aizetsu had taken in a bride.” Zohakuten said, crossing his arms.

A bride? You?! What on earth was going on on this kid's mind?!

Your uncle didn't hold back at his laughter at your flustered face.

“She's not Aizetsu's bride. You should know your brother is too busy nowadays. He has no time to think about love, much less take in a bride for himself.” Your uncle said chuckling, before putting a hand on his chin. “Although, I wouldn't complain if she would become my daughter-in-law either."

“UNCLE!” You practically screamed at him, your face burning red while he laughed joyfully.

“If you're not Aizetsu's bride, then who are you?” Zohakuten asked, his arms still crossed.

“My name is (Y/N) Kamado. I'm uncle's, Mr. Hantengu's apprentice.” You tell him, calming yourself, with your cheeks still a little bit red.

“Ah!” He said, widening his eyes slightly. “Then, you're the one I'm looking for.” He said, reaching up to the thing he had wrapped on his back. “I've come a long way to deliver you this.” He said as he crouched, unwrapping a clothes box.

“Wa-Wait a moment. Your bag is going to get mud on it this way.” You told him, holding him by the shoulders.

“She's right, son.” Your uncle said, calming down his laughter, before pointing at the house. “Let's come inside first. I'm pretty sure the tea is ready by now.”

Zohakuten said nothing, just nodding and standing up, but carrying his bag on his arms. You motioned to offer carrying it for him, but he just took a step away from you, and continued his walk.

Okay, then.

The three of you made your way to the house. When you entered, you saw Hanako pouring some tea, with Shigeru by her side and Takeo by the door. Tanjiro and Nezuko were there too, hidden under thick covers to protect themselves from the sun, and Rokuta also hidden between the two of them. Zohakuten stopped by the door, eyeing them.

“Are you taking new students now, father?” He asked.

“No. Just (Y/N), since your brother asked me. These are her younger siblings.” Your uncle explains as he sits.

“Very well then.” He said, before going to sit by his father's side, finishing unwrapping his bag.

You sit in front of the two of them, your brothers and sister gathering around you. You all watched in silence as he brought out a really long sword, which made your siblings gasp.

“A real sword!” Shigeru exclaimed, his eyes shining.

“Isn't it too long, though?” Takeo asked, eyeing Zohakuten. “On the wandering theaters, the actors' katanas seemed shorter.”

“This is no regular katana. It's a nodachi. Basically, a katana with a long blade.” He explained. “Usually, we make normal katanas, but your sister seems to have no trouble using a longer blade. It should even be better for her.” Then, he turned to you. “Quickly, unsheathe it. I want to see which color it will change to.”

“It can change colors?!” Your siblings cried at the same time, fixing on their gaze on the weapon.

“That's a trait from the nichirin blades.” Hantengu said, chuckling at your siblings reaction.

“It doesn't happen always. If the slayer isn't strong enough, then it won't change.” Zohakuten said, looking at you. “What are you waiting for?”

You nod and look at the sword. Yours was pretty long, almost as long as you were tall, just a dozen centimeters less or so. You also noticed how it didn't have a guard, like your uncle's. You sigh, standing up and unsheathing it. You look at the blade, which had a pretty normal iron color, like the one from your handaxe, however, as you held the handle, you notice how the color began to change, from a normal metal color to a dark shade.

“For real?!”

“It really changed!”

“So cool!”

“Wow!”

Your siblings reacted, watching the blade change color in your hands.

“Is it black?” You uncle asked, taking a closer look.

“No. It's dark purple.” You said, laying it on your lap. You hear a distressed sigh and look at Zohakuten. “Is... Something the matter?”

“I just thought I would see a bright crimson colored blade this time around. What pain...” He said, crossing his arms.

“It seems your grandfather's obsession has rubbed off on you. But now that I think about it, your mother always spoke about a red nichirin. It must be a family thing.” Hantengu said, sighing. “But this isn't your only assignment, right? You'll have plenty of chances of seeing one.”

“Actually, she's my first one. I've just been approved as a swordsmith, and she was assigned to me since she was your student and I was your son.” He said, resting his chin on his hand.

“Then, look at the bright side, Zohakuten. You'll meet a lot of slayers and make them swords.” You tell him, before looking at the blade. You didn't understand much about katanas and blacksmithing, but you could tell that he put a lot of effort to do this blade. “I'll make sure to take good care of this one.”

“You better do so.” He said, while growling lowly. “I'll kill you if you break it.”

Did... Did you hear him right? He'll kill you if you break his sword?

It must be a joke, but he was glaring at you and his tone made him sound like Sekido.

Scary...

“Caw! Caw! Cawmado (Y/N)!” You are dragged out of your thoughts by (C/N), who entered flying and stopped by your side. “Hurry up and go to the northwest town! Caw! Go and kill demons there! This is your first assignment! Caw!”

“Whaaaaaa!”

“That crow-!”

“It talked!”

“Wow! Birdie!”

Your siblings are shocked by the arrival of (C/N), with only Rokuta amazed by it. You, your uncle and Zohakuten just stared at them.

“Remember this, Kamado (Y/N)! Remember well!” The crow continued, ignoring your siblings amazed eyes. “In the northwest town, there are girls are disappearing every night! Every night, there are girls, young girls, constantly disappearing!”

You step out of your room, wearing your slayer uniform. As all others, according to your uncle, yours was black with your rank written on the back, but you used trousers instead of skirt and a pair of boots, which you would wear when leaving the house. They were very comfortable. You were wearing a (F/C) haori that had the same pattern of your favorite kimono, which you’ve been using ever since you could remember. Hanako had prepared one for you to use once you returned, using a couple of money she saved from helping around the nearby village. You can’t help, but smile at her care.

“So, what do you think?” You ask your family, that was looking straight at you.

“You look amazing, sis!” Hanako and Shigeru said, with sparkles in their eyes.

“Pretty.” Rokuta said, clapping his hands.

“You could easily pass by as one of those government office agents we saw in the village back then.” Takeo said with his arms crossed.

“Big brother!” Hanako cried, glaring at him, while Shigeru chuckled.

“What? It’s true!”

“As good as I expected you to be.” Your uncle said, before motioning you to get closer to him, while your brother and sister fought among themselves. “There’s a couple of things I need to tell you. Just the normal protocol.” He said, and you nodded, looking intensely at him. “The fabric of which your uniform is made of is very breathable, but repels moisture and won’t burn as easily, and also is able to resist to attacks of weaker onis, so it won’t tear easily.” He says, before pointing at your blade. “As Zohakuten said, the nichirin blade changes color, but it depends on the user which color it will be, and each one has different proprieties. Yours seem a mix of black and purple. You told me that you made your breathing based on mine and a dance that your family performed, right?”

“Yes. I couldn’t learn yours, but there were a couple things I understood, so I applied it to combine with my family’s dance.” You tell him.

“Usually, the breathing are passed down as traditional dances when there are no heirs to the technique, so the one from your family must be a long forgotten breathing that found no heir to it. A long time must have passed and this knowledge was lost to your family.” Hantengu explained. “That would explain how you forced Aizetsu to defend himself more than it would usually be necessary, how you could blend it with mine to make your own breathing. And also the color.”

“The color?” You repeated, confused.

“Yes. Usually, the color of the nichirin is a reflection of the breathing. The oldest breathing techniques are Flames, Stone, Wind, Water and Thunder, and they have their respective color, those being reddish-orange, gray, green, blue and yellow. The other colors are usually derivations of those five, which reflects a breathing being derived of these five oldest breathing techniques.” He said before picking up his own sword. “The breathing I was taught was Water Breathing, but my blade turned purple since I couldn’t exactly perform it and changed it to make it suit my style. This happens all the time, and you and I aren’t rare. However, black nichirins are rare and their wielders don’t usually live long, so their proprieties are unknown.” Then, he looks at your blade. “Yours was so dark that I mistook it for black, until you said it was just a really dark purple.”

“Where are you trying to get, uncle?” You ask him, touching lightly your sword.

“Perhaps your family’s dance is one of the oldest breathings, since the color is completely different form the others.” He said, putting his sword away. “I believe your blade was supposed to be black, but since you mixed it with mine, which is mostly based on the Water Breathing, it turned a bit purple.” He sighed, before looking at you. “Well, at least that’s my theory. In any case, be careful with it.” He said, looking you in the eyes, the same way he looked at you when he told you his reasons for not wanting you to take part in the Final Selection. Like back then, you smile and nod at him.

“Yes. I’ll take extra care, uncle.” You tell him, melting his worried gaze. “Is there something more?”

“Just two more.” He said, before going to pick up the box he was making with Takeo. “This box was made with a light wood, but it’s extremely sturdy. Despite that, I made sure to reinforce it with rock lacquer, just to be sure.”

“I see.” You tell him, before picking the box up yourself, and you’re surprised with how little strength you use to lift it up. “Amazing, uncle! This is really light!” You tell him, sounding like a child on their birthday party. You also turn to Takeo, who was watching you two talk. “You also did a good job, Takeo. I’m proud of you.”

Your brother smiles, puffing his chest, with a slight blush on his cheeks. You smile at him, before going to your hidden siblings.

“Nezuko. Tanjiro. Could get inside here, please?” You ask them. You watch them hesitate at first, approaching the box before retreating, but they soon enough enter the box, which is spacious enough to have the two of them there side by side. You look at them with a smile. “Nezuko. Tanjiro. From now own, we’ll be always together. We’re gonna have to be a bit away from the others, but once this is over, we’ll all be together at home, with mother and father, okay?” They nod at you, as you close the box door.

“It’s just my theory, but I believe that your brothers are replenishing their energy through sleep, instead of going for humans.” Your uncle said, getting your attention, but he was looking straight at the box. “This may become handy in case you meet one of the higher ups in the Demon Corps, but still, you must pay attention so they won’t get killed by accident.” He turns to you, his eyes meeting yours before you close them, nodding. “Now, it’s time for you to go.”

So explaining myself about the joke of reader being Aizetsu's wife: there was this reader of the series that reblogged one of the chapters and on the tags told Hantengu that they would be a good daughter-in-law. I found it funny and while writing this chapter, I remembered that joke, and seeing as the original Aizetsu and Zohakuten were delusional about things, I thought it would be a funny "misunderstanding", so it came out this way. Either way, I hoped you enjoyed it, and thank @hesvelg for the idea.

[eternalstarlitwonderland]

Wrestling With Lust In Mind

Chapter One

The sounds of cheering spectators echoed throughout the locker room. 

Where a young man named Luke Sullivan sitting in complete solitude with the determination to be the global open-weight champion. 

He stands up and starts to sharply exhale, which eventually leads to doing warming-up exercises. 

As he prepared himself for his first-ever match, his name was called by an associate. 

He quickly got out of the locker room with a confident smirk on his face, sauntering to a vast sea of spectators. 

Seeing every one of them waving a poster of him and even a banter with his name written on it, made his day more special, and his debut match for the main roster. 

This is now or never, Make or break. 

The crowd began to loudly chant for Luke, the babyface hotshot 

"LUKE! LUKE! LUKE! LUKE! LUKE! LUKE!"

Chanting his name and addressing him as the shining star. 

"SHINING STAR! SHINING STAR! SHINING STAR! SHINING STAR!"

As he approached the ring with anticipation, his opponent looked at him with intrigue and probably lust. 

"Hmm, Just another meathead"

With his hip-length black swaying left and right, his appearance is more feminine than the former which shocks him because he thought he was wrestling with a man, not a pretty woman. 

"Wow, he's beautiful… He is a woman?"

He quickly shakes off any thoughts about him and gets into the ring, facing his opponent for the first time. 

"No! No! I have to focus!"

The latter introduced himself as Jamie Siu, the global open-weight champion. 

"Hello there I'm Jamie Siu, The global open-weight champion"

"Hello I'm Luke Sullivan, I'm here to take your title"

Luke introduced himself to the champion as the challenger to take the title from him, Jamie just laughed, and scoffed at him and said that there was no way a person like him was going to beat him and take the title from him. 

Luke equally shot back at Jamie saying that he is going to beat him and take the title no matter what. 

The sound of the bell rings for the match, as the two strategize for each other's weak spots and points that they can export for an advantage. 

"Hey Pretty Boy, I'm going to be the champion" 

"HAHAHAHAHA! I think you losing it, Meathead"

"Hmmm, Not really"

"You're merely beneath me! Meathead, You couldn't last a day with me!"

"Aw did I anger Pretty boy here? Aww you're so cute when you're mad"

"How dare you insult me! You idiotic meathead! I'm going to kick your ass!"

"Bring it on, Prettyboy!"

{DING!}

"Okay I have to play my cards right"

"Hmm, He seems to be an easy guy to defeat"

"I know this guy is pretty tough but I'm sure I'm going to be the champion"

Jamie starts the match with a flurry of quick kicks to knock down the challenger, Luke encounters kicks with some kicks of his own. 

While the two try to get the other to yield, engaging in a power struggle. 

{Footsteps Approaches}

{Fighting Grunt}

{Grunting}

Jamie performs his signature finisher dubbed the drunken master's principle causing Luke to be knocked down to the mat. 

"Take this!  Here's this drunken master's principle!"

"Huh?" 

{Pained Grunt}

Seeing him lying there on the mat and not moving his body, it's his chance for an easy win, he quickly goes for a cover, and the referee sees the cover and goes to where Jamie and the unconscious form of Luke are. 

{POUND!}

"1…"

{POUND!}

"2…"

As Jamie is hoping the referee counts to three already until all of a sudden Luke gets up and quickly wraps his arms around Jamie's neck and wraps his legs around the smaller man forming a guillotine-like hold. 

Performing his signature finisher dubbed the catching shining star, causes Jamie to writhe and thrash in the center of the ring. 

"Damn it! Say three already!"

"Huh?" 

{Pained Grunt}

"SHINING STAR! SHINING STAR! SHINING STAR! SHINING STAR!"

As the cheers get louder and louder, Luke strengthens his hold on him causing Jamie to squirm even more. 

"Give up, pretty boy!"

{Pained Grunt}

"Fuck you, Meathead!" 

{Determine Grunt}

{Pained Grunt}

"Don't make me go even further"

"Do it then, meathead!" 

"Fine then, Prettyboy"

Jamie tried to do anything to escape from it, but unfortunately for the champion. He tapped out, resulting in a loss for him and a win for Luke. 

When Jamie tapped out, then Luke knew he was the winner. 

The bell rings, and he is announced as the winner of the global open-weight championship.

"The winner of the global open-weight championship, Luke"Shining Star" Sullivan!!!"

{Breathing Heavily}

He gets up from the mat and gives him a hand, at first Jamie hesitates but he relents. 

"Here, Pretty boy you want to get up?"

"Don't call me pretty boy, okay?"

{Laughs}

"Help me up"

"Fine pretty boy"

{Effort Grunt}

"Sorry I thought you were a woman because you're so beautiful"

"Really?"

"Yeah"

{Blushes}

"Did I make you blush?" 

"Maybe"

"Hmm, do you like guys or girls?"

"What kind of question are you asking me?"

"Of course I like guys"

"Phew! I thought you going to punch me"

"Why would I do that?"

"I'm pretty bad at flirting"

{Laughs}

"I can definitely tell"

"So I want to take you out on a date, are you interested?"

"Of course, I would be interested"

Luke pulled Jamie into a kiss, wrapping his arms around the smaller man's waist. 

Having a passionate making-out session with one another, being unaware of everybody else, noticed that something was going on between them. 

When they finished making out and they noticed that everyone was glued to them and even cheering them on as a couple. 

"Wow, Pretty boy you're a great kisser"

"You're a great kisser as well"

"JAMIE! LUKE! JAMIE! LUKE! JAMIE! LUKE!"

"#LUKEJAMIE! #LUKEJAMIE! #LUKEJAMIE! #LUKEJAMIE!"

"Let's get out of here"

"Let's go!" 

They quickly got out of the ring and ran to the safety of the locker room. 

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1aUgsd5ZRds-Fo9bb9wIayndsoq2CrmlavQ5O2vOvYtk/edit?usp=drivesdk

#lukejamie #luke Sullivan #jamie siu #sf6 #streetfighter6