#worrier writes

[hylianworrier]

Fire In Rainy Season - Bloodweave AU

Expert Witness part 3!

[witchofthesouls]

Another stray timeline or fun idea with the Donor Clause Au, but with an uneasy armistice between the Autobots and the Decepticons due to the revival of an intergalactic version of the Olympics/Hunger Games.

The nurse got shanghai’d into it because Cybertron wanted to send the “right message” and Windblade was adamant to send you.

That message was supposed to be “good neighbors” in the hopes of continuing potential trade with nearby galaxies.

What you, a Camien Seekerkin under the tutelage of a Camien Healer that often went into the hostile and wild regions of the planet and off-world expeditions, took it as “root out Quintesson and their allies because we remember and FUCK ‘EM!”

(Windblade knew exactly what she was doing, but she misinterpreted that the rest of them knew. She thought that the ‘cons understood because Nurse was among them for a while. With a Conjunx and bitties to boot!

Even Chromia softens her dislike because she thought that the Cybertronians understood what kind of message they were sending by allowing a potential Healer to participate against such a bloodsport among their historical enemies.)

Everyone is talking about the nobody that got sent in and then talking about how it's a Colonist and not a true native. Of course, mechs shut their mouths when Tarn is in the vicinity.

Tarn's looming over anyone who dares make a comment about your survival chances, and bets are taking place if he's crashing into the tournament.

His temper is getting worse with each day you're not at the finish line and he's staring into the ceiling at night with all the sparklings squirming in his berth because he's getting anxious and hides it under the guise of a 'sleepover.' He's simultaneously freaking out and chilling down because on one hand you have Vos, but on the other hand, it's fucking Vos.

On the final day, there's the D.J.D. in the booth with the brood of six to nine sparklings that are all chirping because look there's tor/ori/riri/mom on the big screen that's blood eagling someone from the opposition with ties to the Quintessons with a skirt made out of assorted alien and cybernetic lifechords and Vos hung across your back.

Meanwhile Tarn is feeling something as he watches you ritually take someone's spinal cord, while the rest of the team are commenting that you've been holding out on them and everyone watches in stunned horror as you march to finish line to empty out all the tokens of the annihilated teams that Quintessa and her allies sponsored.

Surprisingly, there are other planetary systems that hate the Quintessons and/or dislike the Galactic Alliance, and look forward to doing business and building ties with a planet that can go toe-to-toe with both powers.

[heytheredeann]

#in which Illya is a worried worrier who worries

[soulinkpoetry]

That’s why opposites attract. Worriers and over thinkers need someone who can make them laugh. Someone who makes them see that life isn’t as serious.

.

.

[loafbud]

I SUBMITTED TWO QUIZZES AT THE LAST POSSIBLE MINUTE BEFORE THE DUE DATE ENDED

[astral-from-afar]

If there is one thing you should know about me is that I am an emotional wreck

[bastardgoblinwolf]

no one to make out with me while listening to fall out boy cd... v. v. tragic

[heartstringsduet]

Do you ever wonder about fandom writers who haven't posted in years? I seriously ache imagining something happened to them.

[mushroom-for-art]

Sequel to Stormy Night Panic, Maple belongs to our lovely @cinnatwo and Moth is our joint son causing problems on purpose

And Three became Six

"Something must have happened!! Rosy is late! And Rosy is never late! She always arrives a few days early!! And you know why?! And I quote!" The fluffy tailed mew with yellow paws ranted, she moved her paws to her cheeks to fluff them up similarly to how the missing companion Rosy does, she battered her eyelids and spoke in a voice similar to Rosys, "well, I often try to get to these things on time but with my luck I always end up in some situation that makes me late," Maple paused to mimic Rosys laugh, "so I guess I just get here early to counteract that." She shook her head quickly. "End quote!" Her voice back to normal as she flailed her arms in distress.

Moth watched her fly back and forth ranting about how something was clearly wrong. "AND it is not as though we just haven't seen her yet, whenever she gets here she always goes about collecting berries and cuts them up into little cubes to to into flavor fruit bowls made of leaves and I haven't seen any evidence of such! So she's not here!"

"Oh so that's what this is about, no fruit bowls?" Moths tone was as usual far too casual and jokey for Maples liking as he smiled at her casually as she felt her temper flaring.

"Moth. Now is not the time for such jokes! She could be in real danger and all you do is make senseless quips?! What is the matter with you!!" Maple gestured with her paws wildly in frustration contemplating attempting to strange the other.

"I already checked in with her while you were rambling, quick psychic ping, she says she's fine and I believe her I ain't gonna press." He shrugged casually as Maple stared at him for quite a few moments.

"You got in touch with her and DIDN'T TELL ME?!?!" Maple moved to grab Moths shoulders choosing to shake and rattle him rather than strangle as he made a series of noises as he was shaken about.

He pulled her hands off of his shoulders though taking a few minutes as his world spun before speaking, "in fairness you never gave me a chance to speak around your ranting." Maple growled at him and he only smiled at her casually.

"Rosy said she's gonna be late because something came up."

"What in the world possibly came up that stopped her coming to meet us? Is she hurt?"

"She said she was fine, I dunno maybe some orphan Duckletts needed swimming lessons."

"Moth."

"What I'm not entirely wrong shes been distracted by baby Pokemon before and baby humans."

"A! OF COURSE! HUMANS! THAT'S WHAT'S KEEPING HER! WE NEED TO GO GET HER NOW!" Moth felt his ears ringing as Maple yelled in furious confidence that their companion must have been captured by humans and was lying to protect them and they needed to go free her and destroy said humans right now.

Moth groaned softly rubbing his temple as Maple looked around desperately searching for Rosys signature or hints of her signature to track her down.

"Have you considered that Rosy probably would've said and maybe she's being secretive because it's something personal or embarrassing? She probably doesn't want us barging in on her if she's going through some spiritual personal character development. Or if she got sprayed by a Skunktank."

"Rosy doesn't need any spiritual whatsamajig she's perfectly outstanding as she is! She's maybe a bit too kind and empathetic for her own good but she doesn't have any issues she needs dealing with." Maple glanced at Moth uncertain if he knew something she didn't, "Right?" Her expression fell into a scowl at his unhelpful shrug. "Oh why am I asking you you don't know anything." She grumbled in frustration.

"I know some things, like which leaves are edible," Maple audibly scoffed and rolled her eyes, "and that Rosy is pretty dang capable and you know that too. I don't think it's a human situation, she just sounds tired, she's probably just burnt herself out but she hasn't called either of us to her so we should respect that."

Maple grumbled and groaned flying back and forth in a frustrated pace, "you need to stop being good at that." She chuntered, for all his goofiness he had his undeniable moments of being wisdomous and annoyingly right in this situation. She swished back and forth in a stressed pace as Moth watched her.

"Maple, if you're worried maybe try reaching out to her? Ask how she is for yourself? Maybe see if she'll ask you to come see her? If she's tired she probably doesn't want to see big ol me and have to deal with my menacing but maybe she'll enjoy having you with her? You're her sister after all."

Maple sighed softly moving to lightly headbutt into Moths stomach and briefly nuzzle against him, "you're right..right..I'll see what she says.." She nodded against his fluff as she felt his paw rest softly on the back of her head petting her fluff softly.

"She'll appreciate you having such trust in her." Maple made a noise of appreciation at his reassurance before pulling away from him as she felt him starting to fluff her fur in the wrong direction.

"Youuu stop that you-" She smacked at his paws as she fluffed and brushed her fur back into place sticking her tongue out at him grumpily at his inappropriate menacing as he grinned playfully his ears flapping in a playful way as she turned away from him to focus on reaching out.

"Rosy? Can you hear me?" She projected her psychic voice outwards stretching reaching to find her.

"Maple?" Rosys own psychic energy met hers intertwining to create a solid connection. "I can hear you darling is everything alright? Did Moth tell you what was up?" Her tone was soft in the way it usually was with underlying exhaustion.

"He told me you'd be late? That something came up? Gosh Rosy you sound tired."

"Sorry sugar I suppose I am, just, had a lot on my paws lately, don't think I'll be able to travel for a few days, so I hope you both enjoy yourselves without me."

"How can we enjoy ourselves without you?! It's not the same, plus don't leave me to deal with this bidoof alone!"

Maple could make out the sound of Rosys laughter within the psychic connection.

"Don't be mean now, but I suppose Moth is a handful when you're alone, especially as he does love menacing you a lot.." Her tone was thoughtful and floating.

"Can I see you? Please? I'm worried about you, I want to see you and know you're in fact okay." Maple didn't hide her desperation, she knew she should've wanted for Rosy to offer but she needed to know, with Rosys history of accidents she needed to be sure she wasn't badly hurt.

"...Maple.." Rosys tone sighed softly as her tone went quiet, "I'm sorry about worrying you so much," She went quiet again, "I'm in a forest in Johto, not sure where exactly, there's a large cliff and an even bigger tree here, I'm sure you'll find me fine, just keep an eye out for a Tyranitar when you arrive maybe bring Moth to be safe." Maple's tail swishes as she listened, immediately aware that Rosy likely had a run in with said Tyranitar.

"Right, we'll head off now we'll be there lickity split!" Maple gave an affirmed nod to herself ready to start tracking Rosy down

"Oh and Maple, uh, just be ready for a surprise when you arrive." Maple face wrinkled in the same way one furrows their brow as the psychic link ended and she was left confused. She floated a few moments, blinked then quickly shook her head to get her thoughts straight.

"Moth we're going to Johto!" Maple hollered before aligning herself the way she needed to go and shooting off like a speeding bullet with Moth tilting his head to watch before flying after casually keeping a pace behind Maple as they flew.

They ducked under flocks of flying bird Pokemon and soared over the strange machines humans used to get around, though Moth couldn't resist looking in one of the windows of the long tube like machine, apparently a plane, and accidentally scaring a human passenger inside before they drifted away and rolled from the sky around each other heading down towards land.

Moth took in the scenery of Johto the forests and cities, he was glad it was Johto they were going to personally, he had some personal issues revolving around Kanto but for now they scanned the landscape. Maple spotted the large tree first flying forward with him following, she reached out with her psychic energy to search for Rosys weaving in between trees while keeping an ear out for any Tyranitar.

She zipped past the cliff previously mentioned and paused flying backwards and taking in some vines hanging down, she moved her paw touching a vine and felt her hand slip past it into a hidden outcrop. Slowly she pushed the vines aside to peer into the dark shelter, the natural sunlight illuminating light pink that she recognised immediately.

"Rosy!" Her tone was joyous as she fully entered the drowsy head of Rosy lifting from her paws and turning to look at her friend immediately beaming a large smile.

"Maple my darling you got here fast." Rosy moved slowly standing to catch Maple as she hurried forward holding her in an embrace. She saw Moth slowly entering behind, though with a bit more difficult, it wasn't the largest nest ever and Moth was bigger than them. Maple could be heard purring as she nuzzled into Rosys soft fur before she pulled away to look at her face holding it in her paws.

"What happened, tell me everything, where's the Tyranitar that hurt you? How long have you been stuck here? Where's your wound? Does it need healing?" Maple began to frantically pat and look Rosy over, quickly honing in on the dried flaking blood on her leg feeling her digits through Rosys fur to locate the new scars as Rosy only softly tutted in response.

Maple made a slight yelp as she was pulled backwards by her tail in a light tug by Moth turning to hiss at him unhappily before a soft mewing cry could be heard. Maple blinked frantically looking to Rosy confused as Rosy carefully turned to the side and moved back to where she had been revealing what previously hadn't been noticed.

Rosy lay down behind three mew kittens, the largest was the same pale pink as her back with splotches of a purple like color and pink coloring in their tail as their bouncy curled ears twitched bouncing their top tufts of fluff, Maple watched the large kitten stretch and yawn squinting with eyes not quite ready to fully open before it flopped back to lying on their stomach, besides them another more red pink colored kitten with markings like a rising sun on their face and stripes of sunlight with a singular heart shape at the end of their tail and curly cheeks like their mother, and finally to the largest other side the smallest kitten of them all with a fuzzy half curled collar fluff and a short kinked tail they were a lighter shade of pink than Rosy with slightly darker pinks and purple hues on their toes tail and ears with a half folded much too large ear that they'll probably eventually grow into, in fact they all had rather large ears to grow into.

Maple's mouth opened and shut, and opened again to shut as Rosy gently groomed the top of the largest head flattening the tufts of fur before they bounced back up again in defiance.

"I thought I sensed some extra signatures with you," Moth stepped past the still shocked Maple as he crouched down to lay on his stomach offering a paw out and softly touching the tip of the runts nose who immediately started kicking and squirming spitting and hissing in fiesty blindness swatting with baby paws to attack whatever was touching their nose clearly aware Moth wasn't mom.

"You…so.." Maple started struggling for words, "they're, yours?" Rosy nodded as she carefully scooped up her hissing kitten to groom their fluff.

"I was, hoping to make it in time to be with you both when I gave birth but the tyranitar attack uh kind of ruined that plan," Rosy laughed awkwardly, "went into labor prematurely right here, been well figuring out motherhood ever since."

"And, you've been here all alone?! Why didn't you call for us? We would've came immediately!" Maple's tone was distressed and frustrated that she wasn't able to do anything to help.

"I tried, I honestly did but I wasn't strong enough when it first happened and, then I felt too awkward as I didn't know how to bring it up." Rosys ear twitched to the side as she made another awkward laugh putting down her settled kitten, "and I haven't been alone, I met another Mew here this is one of his nests actually, he's been taking care of me and the kids he's been wonderfully helpful, he even healed my leg while I was in labor and kept me company letting me crush his paw, he's just out collecting food he'll probably be back later."

Moths ears were vertical as he listened, sure they all managed to find each other but it was rare for them to meet other mews and he was intrigued. Maple seemed more suspicious.

"And, have you and this other Mew, met before?" Her gaze falling to the kittens.

"No never, I would've introduced you to him had I known him a while."

"So how'd you make these? What recipe did you follow?" Moth was staring at the kittens in wonderment.

"I, well, I'm not sure, I think it was some flowers I saw, they had an unusual but wonderfully pleasant scent and I've never seen such flowers before but I'd heard stories of Mews born from plants, and perhaps those stories hold true or at least are a bit more metaphorical."

Moth nodded his head, "I've heard of that, rare things those flowers they're supposed to have come from the tree of life that Arceus made, so I can see that."

Maple watched feeling more than a bit lost as they discussed becoming pregnant by some flower watching the kittens roll around and make various chirps.

"Maple? You okay?" Rosy looked over to her in concern, worried it was perhaps a bit much for her. Maple blinked again, slowly approaching and sitting next to Moth.

"Yea..yea just..a lot to take in..cant believe our trio is a sixlet now.." Rosy moved, reaching out a paw to hold Maples reassuringly, giving it a squeeze.

"I suppose we are aren't we," Rosy smiled gently picking up the runt with her tail and placing then gently in Maples lap, they wiggled and hissed but seemed to settle after discovering Maples soft long fur kneading it and beginning to purr, "this is Pecan," Maple chuckled softly.

"Like the nut?"

"Well, it was more cause of his tail, thought of those pesky pikas that used to raid our berry stash and well Pika turned to Pecan." Maple chuckled again at Rosys thought process.

"This big lad is Drift, not long after birth he showed some brief ability floating and nearly drifted away, and he's always trying to escape so Drift. And my little baby madam here is Sunbeam, you can probably tell why, the sun was rising as she was born and the light blessed her face as it shined on her."

"Woah for real?" Moth asked, amazed as Drift attacked his paw.

"No," Rosy laughed, "She came out looking like this, it was still night."

"Ahh! Tricking me! Deceiving me! Horrid wicked sister!" Rosy laughed at Moths dramatics as Maple gently held Pecan in her arms gently rocking him.

"They're perfect Rosy…you did an amazing job…"

"Thank you Maple, I can't wait for them to open their eyes and start seeing the world, I'm so glad that their aunt and uncle will be some of the first things they see." Rosy smiled as Maple let out a faint purr. They were a little family and their family had just gotten that bit bigger and it was perfect.

[saiintofdiirt]

Literally dropped everything when i saw the fic update.

Unfortunately dont have anything smart to say (unless 3 lines of keysmashing counts as smart) but i am very excited for this fic. Your writing style is lovely and i want to eat it

(and your characterization! i'm a big fan of Parrot and i like how you've written him.) idk. good chapter i loved it

idk if 3 lines of keysmashing counts as smart but they do count as honest and we appreciate that in this house !!! and my writing is always available for eating LOL

it's always a gift to hear feedback on parrot's voice in my work, im so glad you're enjoying it! im trying my best to make him sound like him while also filtering that through wifies's POV so i worry a lot.

thanks!

[stolenslumber]

oh nooooooo i just saw the trailer for puppy love w/ lucy hale and grant gustin and why am i thinking that should be a jake fic

[hylianworrier]

Rise and Fall Chapter 8

A Bloodweave Bakery AU

[ronmanmob]

Tag a quality blog, You’re it! Quality doesn’t means that you have a lot of followers, or a lot of messages. It means that you’re nice to other people, and you deserve to be happy. If you get this message, someone is telling you that they love you as you are, and they don’t care how many followers you have. Send this to 15 blogs who deserve it. If you break the chain, nothing will happen. But it’s just good to let someone know that you love them. 💙

[luveline]

Jade I’ve been WAITING and HOPING for you to ask about spider verse and/or Miguel requests. He is the epitome of grumpy love interest falls for sunshine reader, would you maybe write something where he’s like in the midst of being scary and intimidating and then when reader walks in he is trying to maintain that image in front of whoever else is there but she just like totally ignores it and basically exposes how soft he is?

Obviously feel free to take or leave whatever parts of that you like I just love grumpy x sunshine

SPOILERS FOR SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE BELOW

thank you for your request! for you my love, grumpy (lovesick) miguel x sunshine spidergirl!reader, 1.5k

Miguel spends a lot of time arguing with Peter B. Parker, or as you've so fondly nicknamed him, Sweatpants-Man. Well, Miguel spends a lot of time yelling at him. It stopped for a while; Peter B. Parker took some time away from the Spider Society, but eventually he returned with a brand new spider. A baby girl. 

You linger at the door, startled to find him in company, but pleased when he isn't yelling as loudly as he could be. He looks desperately as though he wants to shout, and is holding back through sheer force of will, his eyes widened and his hair falling in unruly waves over his forehead, strands of it curled into his eyes. 

Miguel is a worrier. It isn't his fault. He's a great man with responsibilities beyond his control, and he may not always react how he should, but he tries his best. You don't agree with everything he does, but you like him. You adore him. For all of his goodness, his bravery, and the smile he gives you when you're alone. 

He's clearly troubled by something. 

"I don't really see the harm, I won't tell him a thing," Peter B. Parker says.

"Why do you refuse to listen to me? No. End of discussion." 

"I think we should reopen the discussion," Peter B. Parker says. 

He and Miguel are friends, you think. They would have been best buddies by now if Peter could abide by Miguel's rules. Then again, you ignore the rules often and indiscriminately, and Miguel likes you.

He's scraping his hair out of his eyes now, a fierce glare fixed on Peter's face, and you have the urge to go in there and try to persuade him to give Peter whatever it is he's asking for. You're almost certain you could do it. 

Not through your sheer mastery of the persuasive arts, though you have mastered them, but because Miguel O'Hara has a soft spot for you. He tries to hide it and you refuse to let him. You haven't tried to kiss him or anything (you secretly aren't that brave) but you run circles around him for fun, only letting him boss you around every now and then to keep things loose. You could be much meaner about the whole thing: what is so humiliating as falling for your lackadaisical subordinate? But you don't hold it against him, because he likely isn't finished falling yet, and because you really do like him. 

You pull your mask off of your face and then your gloves, shoving them into a concealed pocket on your thigh. 

"Miguel," you murmur, knowing he'll hear you no matter the volume, "what's wrong?" 

Miguel doesn't glance your way. 

Peter B. Parker's shoulders sag in relief at your appearance. "Thank god you're here," he says. 

You hadn't realised Peter knew who you were. "I'm here," you repeat mildly. 

"Tell Miguel that the risk involved with visiting Earth-1610 is super, duper small." 

"Well, it is negligible," you murmur, though Peter's quest isn't your prerogative. 

Miguel groans loud and unapologetically. 

You stand near Miguel and look up at him. He's ridiculously tall. You’d have to crane your neck if you stood at his feet. You maintain some distance and look him over from a gentler incline, cataloguing the dark circles under his eyes for the hundredth time. They don't look too bad today, but you wish he'd get more rest. 

He has a very fierce face, but you know how it softens when he laughs. It's hard to find his glaring intimidating when you've witnessed the white flash of sharp teeth as he smiles, the way his eyes light up and his eyebrows relax from their stern set when you bring him something to eat on late nights. It's almost always smothered as soon as it happens, but it does happen. 

"The risk involved is not super small," he says, still not looking at you, "the risk involved is actually incredibly big, and it isn't worth it." 

Peter puts his arms out just as Mayday drops from the rafters above. You huff a laugh at his coordination and Mayday starts to laugh, her knitted beanie drooping into her eyes. 

"Hi, baby," you say softly, reaching out to hold her hand. She squeezes your fingers. 

"It's worth the risk. Absolutely, it's worth the risk, and I would argue that me visiting would actually strengthen the state of the multiverse–" 

"In what scenario–" 

"–and, like, make your job easier." Peter stops Mayday from climbing up your shoulder. 

"If there's one thing you've never done, Peter, it's make my job easier. I can't believe you're asking me again," Miguel says, taking a big breath, like he's going to pop. 

You step away from Peter to catch Miguel's attention. When his eyes lock onto yours, you smile as fondly as you're able, the kind of smile you know he likes. Your eyes widen just a touch and your eyebrows rise, the corners of your mouth not quite dimpling. It's a smile that says all the same stuff you love to say aloud. Hi, handsome. What's got you so stressed today? 

"Don't be like that, Miguel," Peter says. 

You tilt your head to one side. "You don't look very well," you say. 

"I'm fine." There's a thread of gentleness there, almost indistinguishable from his serious tone. "Or I would be, if Peter would listen to me for once." 

"I'm listening, man, I just think you should see sense." 

Miguel's face flickers like he wants to correct him, but he keeps getting caught on you. Nothing specific, just that his gaze lands on your face or your shoulder or your arm before he looks at Peter, and all the steam rushes out of him. He’s trying not to smile at you.

"I see sense," Miguel insists. It's like he wants to be angrier than he has, gritting his teeth weakly. "It's not feasible right now." 

You smile at that. Right now. You're not sure he's ever said something that could lead to a compromise. You are sure that he hadn't meant to. Peter is understandably thrilled, hiding his own smile as he puts Mayday back into her carrier. 

"Alright. Well, I've gotta take her home. But I'll see you both again soon," Peter threatens, wiggling his eyebrows. "Thank you," he adds, nodding at you. 

You laugh as he leaves. Miguel is nowhere near as pleased. 

"You did that on purpose," Miguel says. 

"I did what on purpose?" 

"Coming in here." 

"Yeah, of course. I come to see you all the time on purpose. Did you think I was drifting in here on the breeze? That would be difficult, considering." You gesture to the entrance of his office, which is far from easily accessible. 

Miguel looks at you, unimpressed, with his hands on his hips. You wonder what it would take to make him put his hands on yours. 

"Don't even think about it," he says. 

"About what, handsome?" 

"You think I don't know what that look means?" He sounds fond rather than angry. It's a win. 

"I bet you know, but I'm in the dark, so if you'd… illuminate it for me, that would be greatly appreciated." 

He checks that no one's about to enter his office. You feel your heart jerk in your chest, and if his super senses are anything like the other Spider People, he can hear it. 

"You really can't come in here when I'm trying to set people straight," he says. 

"Why?" you ask. You could pout at him, but you think that might be too much. 

"You know why." Somewhere between words he drifts closer, soundless, his face inching down toward yours with a surprising swiftness. "You know why," he repeats.

You lift your chin as much as you dare, which isn't much, but enough that your giggly confirmation fans over his lips, "Yes, I do." 

He nudges you away, and it isn't without affection. His warm, big hand lingers on your shoulder, even as he says, "Go, go do something." 

"Miguel, I came to see you." 

"I know, and I have a meeting with Jess in a minute, so you can't be here. It'll undermine my authority." 

"What will?" you ask, smiling, because you already know. His fondness for you. 

"Go away. Come and see me later," he says. 

You sigh and spin away from him. "I will, but not because you told me to!" you call, leaving the office with an awful sense of victory. 

Miguel scrubs his face with his hands as you go. He's really not sure what he's going to do with you. His plan to hold you at arm’s length isn’t working anymore, and honestly? He doesn’t think he could stand it a minute longer. Thank whoever’s watching over him that you actually do as he asks for once and leave. 

Miguel was one sweet smile away from kissing you up against the wall.

[lovings4turn]

୭ 🗝️ ✧ ˚. 🪩 you’re my painkiller . . . (j.s.)

— your boyfriend apparently has zero regard for his own wellbeing. you, on the other hand, seem to have enough concern for you both (1.6k words)

+ aka the classic ‘patching up your injured s/o’ trope. brief mentions of injury and blood but nothing serious

+ also my first time writing any sort of nhl work so pls don’t be too too harsh ! a special shoutout to my lovely @wintfleur for all of the support and for listening to my various ramblings n complaints about this fic😭

juraj regrets nothing.

even now, sitting in the penalty box with a bust lip, he couldn’t care less. not about the player that he was swinging at two seconds ago, nor about how well the small cut on his face is going to heal. shit happens, after all.

though, no.

maybe there’s one small thought gnawing away at him, sitting persistent at the front of his brain and demanding his attention. it’s the knowledge that you’re sitting at home and have definitely just watched the whole ordeal unfold.

fuck, he thinks, taking a drink and pushing his hair back. cold water brushes against his split lip and he winces slightly, breathing still laboured from the exertion of both his play and his onslaught of hits onto the opposing team. you’re a worrier by nature, and juraj’s sure that whatever close up of his face that they’ve displayed on the broadcast has done nothing to quell your concern.

scraps happen all the time in hockey. it’s a fact that you were well aware of long before you’d even started dating juraj, and it would be ridiculous to expect him to never get caught up in a bit of a scuffle. if anything, it should be assumed. but this doesn’t mean you have to like the thought of it, either. 

no one likes to see their partner roughed up and bleeding, no matter how good they may or may not have looked whilst getting into said fight. especially not when you have to wait another two hours or so to see them again.

two minds intertwined, both you and juraj desperately wish you could have attended the game tonight so the distance between you could be a little smaller. he would find a way, some method of conveying to you that he was completely okay, and worrying was the last thing you needed to do. the dickhead deserved it, after all.

sadly, things can’t always work out the way that juraj wishes, and now he has to deal with the consequences. it’s a painful rest of the game, and his drive home is even more laborious. how he will find a way to quell your worry, to assure you he was fine, and that if anything, this method of getting out a little extra aggression was pretty healthy depending on who you asked, is beyond him. luck and charm is all he has on his side. 

turns out, all of his planning and preparation isn’t needed.

he doesn’t even have the chance to get a word out before you’re rushing over to him, a surprise yet fond oof escaping his bitten lips as you bury your face into his sturdy chest. large calloused hands find their way to sit at your waist, the fabric of your hoodie hiking up slightly to grant juraj’s fingertips access to your skin.

he’s granted a tight hug before you’re pulling back far too soon for his liking, your warmth lingering against his chest and tunnelling through his skin to reach his heart. juraj’s thumbs stroke at the exposed strip of your waist as he awaits your next move.

in an effort to reach his face, you push up onto your toes and juraj automatically stabilises you by tightening his grip on your waist. cautious to not hurt him, you cup his jaw with a gentle hand, the dusting of faint hair familiar against your skin. your thumb barely ghosts over the dried crack of blood sitting on his bottom lip, a place you’d pressed countless kisses in the past now marred by a mark of frustration.

with your furrowed brows and pouty lips, you look downright adorable to juraj as you survey his scrapes, which are arguably nothing in his eyes. he’d be lying if he were to say he wasn’t enjoying the way you were fussing over him, and he was a little amused at just how concerned you were over a few little cuts.

finally, your observation comes to an end.

“you’re an idiot,” you surmise, clicking your tongue softly as you fail to hold back a smile.

the blunt nature of your words takes him aback, and he barks out a laugh.

“it’s not bad.”

his voice is thick, accent heavy, and it takes a lot of effort for you not to swoon.

“there’s blood.”

he holds his hand up, pinching his pointer finger and thumb close together. “little bit.”

“still blood.”

his eyes are locked onto yours, and though you want to do nothing more than kiss him silly, the thought of causing him any more pain or discomfort is out of the question. all you can do is stare at one another, hoping your expression can convey far more than touch or words.

eventually, your hand leaves his jaw, and juraj finds himself having to stop his face tilting, wanting to follow the caress of your palm, to chase the warmth it gives him. the longing doesn’t last long as your hand finds his own, squeezing it in a show of love.

he doesn’t think twice as you lead him into the bathroom. your hands are on your hips as you huff out a breath, squinting slightly in a laboured effort to remember where exactly you stored the haphazard medical kit that was invented for moments exactly like this.

luck is on your side, as your guess of rooting through the cabinet underneath the sink proves to be successful. your fingers swipe through various medical products, and you pluck out some plasters and antiseptic, hoping that they would do the job.

juraj stands behind you like a lost puppy, half amused and half concerned at the speed at which you’re moving. he truly doesn’t think his injuries are anything to dwell on, but the way that you’re acting prompts him to think twice.

oblivious to his hovering, you plant your palms firmly onto the cold marble of the bathroom counter before you push yourself up, your new height bonus granting you easier access to the scrapes on juraj’s face. you pat your thighs and give him a smile.

“come here then, let’s get you patched up.”

juraj doesn’t need to be told twice. in two long strides he’s standing between your split legs, hands finding purchase on your thighs as you take a minute to properly assess the damage done to your boy’s face. truly, it could be far worse - you’ve seen players lose teeth in the past, after all - but you think you’ve earned the right to be a little dramatic.

“this might sting,” you warn, beginning to pour some of the antiseptic liquid onto a cotton ball. the strong scent causes your nose to scrunch and juraj can’t help but to press a kiss to the wrinkled skin, a silent communication of consent.

it hurts like a bitch. you murmur apologies throughout, cursing and wincing with him as you dab at the area around the wounds in an attempt to clean up as much of the blood as possible. it’s impressive, how efficiently you work, considering you’re not exactly well versed in cleaning up wounds. 

“what even happened?” you ask. “whole thing happened out of nowhere, from what i saw.”

juraj drums his fingers against your thighs, jaw clenched slightly as he distracts himself from the harsh sting of the antiseptic liquid. your question gives him something to think about, to focus on.

“eh, nothing really. was frustrated, he chirped me. next thing i know, we are fighting.”

you can’t help but laugh at his nonchalance, and your smile reflects onto his own face, the sun lending light to the moon. the motion stretches the gash on his bottom lip and he hisses a little, letting out an indignant sound as you swat at his curious hand.

the plasters you purchased are far too big for the small cuts along his lip and cheek, so you’re forced to slim them down slightly with a pair of rapidly acquired nail scissors, tongue poking from the corner of your lips. you delicately press the bandages to his injuries, smoothing over the fabric with a level of caution reserved for fine china or glass. 

evaluating your half-assed medical job, you move to cup juraj’s face once more and relish in the way that he steps closer to you. a hand swipes at his cheekbone, and you tsk slightly as your knuckles graze the mottled skin in an act of sympathy. “that’s definitely gonna bruise love.”

“eh, it will make me look tough,” he jokes, puffing out his already large frame even further. it’s impressive, you have to admit.

“don’t want you looking tough,” you huff. “want you looking okay. no matter how good you look when y’roughing someone up.”

though you’re joking, juraj senses the underlying worry in your tone, your mind wandering to the threat of him stumbling through your doorway in a far worse condition. 

“i’ll be more careful.” a promise.

“what am i gonna do with you, hm?” you tease.

your hands come to rest around his broad shoulders, and juraj slides you off of the counter, hands coming to support your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist. he carries you towards your bed like it’s nothing, laying you down gently before crawling next to you. he wastes no time in pulling you into his chest, your ear against his chest as the steady thrum of his heartbeat lulls you into a calmer state.

“for now? cuddle me. all i need.”

“i’d love nothing more.”

[yandere-kokeshi]

Hoooooly crap I am BLASTED rn. Can I ask for poly 141 (it can be werewolf if you want) react and be with a reader tgat gets all giggly and snuggly while high. Also i love your work so mich like genuinely i just binge ypur stuff and constantly read things over and over and over again. Youre such a talented writer and honestly we should paying you for us to read your work. I hope you’re doib well, i love ya a toooon

— Yandere TF-141 with a gn darling who gets giggly and snuggly whilst high

Warnings: yandere behavior, being high, and being taken advantage of.

A/N: there’s no need to pay me, i’m happy to share my writing with you + everyone who likes my writing; thank you for the sweet compliments. This isn’t werewolf AU, but enjoy <3!!

To start off, they don’t mind pot. They know the real story, and how the government hides it. This said, they don’t necessarily have an opinion on it — it’s weed, nothing wrong or right about it.  

However, they also don’t condone it, as they like you awake. But if you do it, you do it and hey, they get to see a side of you that nobody else does, and you quickly become a doofus.  

To say they love your giggly and cuddly side is an understatement. All of them chuckle when they come home, seeing you laid down on the couch with reddened eyes. They love to plop you on their lap, laugh at your weird and not-in-the-moment-thinking conversations and ask you dumb shit, just to see your reactions. 

Soap can be a little shit, especially when you do a joint. He likes to ask deep-conversational questions, loving how your nose crinkles when thinking of it. And when you stutter, he loves to lean in and say: “Hm? Didn’t catch ‘at, sweetheart.”

To be honest, they all love to take advantage of you. Seeing you all calm and welcoming makes their dark heart darker than ever. 

Simon likes to ask you questions with promises, such as marriage, or even kids. Watching your reaction, and smiling with soft touches. And when the next day comes, asking if you remember them, and if you don’t? He’s hurt. Those promises were real, weren’t they? 

Honestly, Kyle and Price are worriers. Even though they know the side effects are normal, they worry like hens; constantly checking your head with the back of their hand or making you drink water to stay hydrated, as if you’re sick. 

As for Johnny, he’s in the middle — but still a little shit. He laughs when you laugh, even at the horrible jokes, and tries to make you stay in the ‘high state’ because it’s cute.

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