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kyeomsense · 7 months

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svt hyung line’s reaction to surprise kisses

felt like i needed to write tonight so here we go!!

svt x gn!reader, all fluff (again x2)

wc: ~800

read the maknae line ver

seungcheol

he’s distracted when you strike. he’s doing the dishes, scrubbing away at the grimy plates when he jumps from a small peck on the back of his neck. as you attempt to escape, he tears off the comically large rubber gloves and chases after you. when he catches you, he basically wrestles you into a hug, laughing as you whine and playfully hit his chest. he doesn’t let you go until after he finishes pressing a loving kiss on your lips and leaving a few love bites on your neck.

jeonghan

jeonghan isn’t the type to let things go easily. so when you pretend he has a bit of shaving cream left on his face only to kiss his jaw and dash off, he’s already formulating a plan to get revenge. at jun’s birthday party the next day, he purposely brushes his cupcake a bit too close to your face. when he offers to help you clean up, he presses his mouth to your cheek and kisses the frosting off, laughing as you go red in front of your friends.

joshua

you mess with joshua, you get what’s coming to you. you surprise him in the pool, while he’s lounging on the sidelines for a bit and sipping on a juice box. you leap at him from under the water, splash him, and press a chaste kiss on his nose before diving under once more and swimming off. he returns the favor after a couple hours, when you’re standing by the poolside. he asks for your hand, which you happily give in order to prevent him from completely turning into a prune. he’s waited hours for this moment. with a strong tug, he yanks you into the pool and catches you in his arms, laughing and peppering kisses along your pouty face.

junhui

when you surprise him with a soft kiss to his cheek, he immediately wraps his arms around you and locks you in place. he smirks. and then he starts to tickle. he doesn’t stop, no matter how many times you try to use the excuse that you’re going to pee yourself if he keeps going. he continues to torture you, taunting you and getting payback for the lack of a proper kiss. for a moment, you think you actually are going to pee yourself, but he stops before you do and stares at you expectantly. you sigh teasingly. there’s only one way out of being tickled to death by jun. with a huff, you press a long kiss to his lips, feeling him rest his arms around you and melt into the kiss.

soonyoung

the two of you are in the middle of a duet, dancing lazily. he doesn’t notice your mischievous smile for the longest time, completely focused on the movements and the choreography. when there’s a moment in the dance where the two of you are facing each other closely, you suddenly rush forward and press a quick kiss to his lips. he breaks, body refusing to move even as the song continues on. when the choreographer asks him what’s wrong, he flushes red and tries to play it off. he requests a break and playfully scolds you the entire time, even with his reddened face in his hands.

wonwoo

in the middle of his league game, wonwoo suddenly feels a set of lips meet his cheek. he doesn’t seem to be affected, only reacting with a soft hum. his hands and eyes stay focused on the screen. you huff, suspecting that he’s immune to your surprises. after his game ends, while you’re laying on the couch reading your favorite book, he pulls the book out of your hands, shoves the bookmark in, and dives onto the couch with you. the two of you spend the next hour cuddling and kissing. you learn that he won his league game after he doubled down and sped through his lane, motivated by your kiss.

jihoon

while he’s bopping his head to one of the tracks he put together, you press a quick kiss to his temple. he’s surprised. he didn’t even know that you were in the room, thanks to bumzu leaving the door slightly ajar for you on his way to the bathroom. you laugh when he reacts, eyes wide and mouth open. he’s happy to see you, and he’s certainly happy to receive a kiss. a smile blooms on his face and he pulls you in close for a hug before he unplugs his headphones and lets you listen in on his newest work.

a/n: ive been having the biggest writer’s block lately when it comes to some of the longer fics i’m writing.. but i just felt like i needed to write something, so have this! i’ll probably finish up a maknae line version later this week :]

#svt fluff #svt x reader #svt drabbles #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol x reader #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #joshua fluff #joshua x reader #jun x reader #jun fluff #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #woozi x reader #woozi fluff #hoshi fluff #hoshi x reader

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cowboydisaster · 9 months

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Just Like You

pairing: SImon "Ghost" Riley x single mom reader word count: 1.6k summary: Ghost can't get used to the fact that he's your son's favorite person in the world, but damn- he's trying. ("You- You're me for Halloween??") a/n: this fic references the comics, so for those who didn't know: Joseph was Simon's nephew. Super angsty and fluffy. Simon bonding with your kid. beta read by @margowritesthings

masterlist

Leo loves Halloween. It’s your son’s favorite time of year. The five year old boy, with your help, worked incredibly hard on his costume, and he’s sure it's going to be the best costume on the block. You may be a little biased, but really, it’s very good. Leo has put extra effort into perfecting every detail of his costume, because this year is special.

It’s the first year that Simon will be accompanying Leo with trick or treat. Leo loves Simon to pieces– but Simon can’t figure out why. The soldier elicits fear from nearly everyone that he encounters, his mask makes children scream and run in the other direction. Hell, his mask makes adults piss themselves in the field. Many enemy soldiers have surrendered at the sight of Ghost running towards them. So Simon can’t wrap his head around the fact that his girlfriend’s little boy looks up at him like he’s the greatest person in the world.

Simon is less than stellar with children. He tries, but he’s not entirely sure how to talk to them. He’s always a little awkward, generally avoiding children when he can, but this one seeks him out. Simon loves you more than anything, and he wants to form a relationship with Leo, he’s just not exactly sure how. He’s trying, for you and the boy. Leo’s biological dad is a piece of shit, which Simon has lived through, and he tries to shield the poor kid from that pain as much as possible. Maybe it’s because Leo reminds him so much of Tommy and Joseph, but your kid is special.

–

“You ready, bud?” You ask, pulling a hoodie over your frame. It’s Simon’s and it’s oversized, stopping just above your knees. But it's comfortable, and late-October in Manchester is not. Immediately, you find yourself encompassed in its warmth and the smell of Simon’s cologne.

“Almost, mummy!” Leo yells from the bathroom. “Simon is gonna love this!”

You chuckle, “I know he will, baby.” You grab the fresh mug of tea from your nightstand and head down the carpeted stairs. Simon was to be here an hour before trick or treat. You check your watch. 18:00. As if on cue, the doorbell rings, sounding out loudly through your little home. Always punctual. Leo squeals out of excitement at the sound.

“Coming!” You holler, padding across the chilly living room towards the door. You jog lightly, causing a few drops of tea to spill over from the lip of your mug, dripping down to the floor and splashing against the hardwood floor. Ignoring the little mess, you pull the frosted glass door open. Simon is wearing his less civilian mask with the hard plastic skull face. You’d specifically requested that he wear it, though he wasn’t sure why.

“You can just come in, you know. You don’t have to ring the doorbell.” You chuckle, nodding for him to come in. He steps inside the door, hands softly gripping onto your waist as he kicks the door shut.

“I told you to keep your door locked.” Simon raises an eyebrow, squeezing your waist.

“Oh, right…” You hum, squinting your eyes as you recall that conversation, “I forgot.”

“Course you did, love.” Simon smirks, “Happy Halloween.” he says, and you chuckle, gripping his skull mask by the teeth and pushing it up over his face. His scarred lips are sporting a smile, and you kiss it away. It’s over all too quick as he pulls away, nodding towards the cup of tea in your hand.

“The kettle’s still on, yeah?” He asks, pulling the mask back down over his face.

“Yes, I’ll get you a cuppa.” You roll your eyes playfully. He’s cutting your kisses short for tea, something he’ll make up for later, you’re sure. Simon glances around the living room, noting the few abandoned truck toys that lie around the living room.

“Where’s Leo?” Simon asks, looking around the living room as you walk towards the kitchen.

“He’s just finishing getting ready upstairs. Why don’t you go up? I'll bring your tea up.” You hum, grabbing a tea bag and Simon’s favorite mug. You hear heavy footsteps going up the stairs, and take that as his response.

You shake your head, amused as you slowly pour the steaming water over the tea bag, watching it turn a rich brown. Once it’s properly mashed, you add his preferred amount of milk and sugar, and then carefully start up the stairs. Your footsteps are naturally much quieter than Simon’s, and with the added fact that you’re trying not to spill his tea, he doesn’t hear you coming up the steps. You reach the top, and stop dead in your tracks at the sight around the corner. Simon is walking towards Leo’s bedroom, but from the angle you’re at, you can see Leo hiding around the corner as if he's about to scare Simon. Leo is fully dressed in his Halloween costume, a little replica of the exact outfit Simon is currently wearing, skull mask and all.

“Boo!” Leo screams, rounding the corner that Simon was just about to go around.

Simon clutches his chest, jumping back a comical amount. Simon literally screams, attempting to sound terrified. Obviously Simon isn’t scared in the least, but Leo doesn’t know that. Simon lets the boy proudly think that his costume is scary enough to frighten the unshakeable. Leo’s smile is as bright as ever under his mask, and you grip the cup of tea a little tighter as a smile pulls at your own lips. Simon’s eyes are comically wide as he fakes terror for the young boy. Entirely satisfied with Simon’s reaction, Leo pulls his mask off, giggling madly.

“It’s okay, Simon! It’s just me, don't be scared!” Leo giggles, jogging up towards Simon who is bent over at the waist, pretending to gasp for breath and holding his chest.

“Bloody hell, mate. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Simon chuckles, scooping Leo up into his arms. Once settled on Simon’s hip, Leo holds the plastic mask up to Simon’s face. It’s an exact replica of the mask he’s currently wearing, just much smaller.

“Look! I'm just like you for Halloween!” Leo smiles, showing Simon all the little details that he’d put into perfecting his mask.

“You–” Simon’s brow furrows, “You’re me for Halloween?” He asks, piecing it all together. Leo holds the mask out to Simon, who takes it and looks over the smaller version of Ghost’s infamous skull mask.

“Yep! Do you like it…?” Leo asks, sounding a bit worried. His little eyebrows pull together, and Simon is quick to reassure him.

“I love it, mate. It’s perfect, looks just like mine.” Simon whispers. There is emotion in his voice, unusual for him, you note. Tears prick your eyes as Leo puts the mask back on, looking up at Simon.

“I wanna be like you when I grow up.” Leo says, wrapping his little arms around Simon’s neck.

“You’re gonna be better than me, Leo. Much better, yeah?” Simon whispers, looking the boy in the eyes. Leo nods, curling up against Simon’s chest. He rubs his hand up and down Leo’s back, comforting him.

“You know, Leo, you remind me of a boy I used to know.” Simon mumbles in a rare show of emotional vulnerability, his eyes glazed over as he pats the boy’s back.

“Who?” Leo asks, propping his chin on Simon’s chest to look up at him better.

“Uh–” Simon hesitates. “His name was Joseph… He was my nephew.” Simon whispers, and your heart wrenches in your chest.

“Maybe I could meet him someday and we could play.” Leo whispers, hopefully looking up.

“Yeah. Maybe someday.” Is all Simon says, nodding lightly as old, ugly memories pull at his brain, ones he’d shoved out and burned long ago.

“I love you, Simon.” Leo whispers, hugging his little arms as tightly around the man as he can manage. He pulls Simon out of every dark thought he was having, those three little words pulling at his heart strings. Simon hesitates, voice stuttering for a moment.

“Yeah– I love you too, little mate.” Simon whispers, voice heavy with emotion.

“This is gonna be so much fun– Mummy even helped me with my costume!” Leo adds, unintentionally changing the subject. He creates a perfect time for you to announce your presence.

You hastily wipe your eyes and walk up the last step, rounding the corner you were just hiding behind. You catch Simon off guard, and he turns to you, slowly placing the young boy back on the ground.

“I didn’t hear you come up.” Simon whispers, taking the mug from your outstretched hands. He’s far away, lost in thought. Leo runs down the hall to grab his treat bag as Simon wraps his arm around your waist.

“Didn’t want to spill your cuppa.” You explain, resting your head on his chest for a moment. Leo comes back around the corner with his bag, excitedly waiting for trick or treat to begin.

You smile up at Simon, noticing a few little tear tracks running down through his eye black.

ghost taglist: @moths569

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #ghost cod #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2

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eve-dawntower · 4 months

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Treasure (Rafayel x MC)

Rafayel used to have all your attention, but now a rival has arrived. Who would have thought that the most formidable rival he'll ever get is his own flesh and blood?

Warning: None

Pairing: Rafayel x Reader

Tags: Fluff

Rafayel was truly happy when he found out he was going to be a father. I mean, a child is a combination of a small bit of him and a small bit of you, right? He was genuinely ready to become a father despite whatever nonsense Thomas was spouting. But what he wasn't ready for was you focusing all your attention on the half-merman toddler the two of you had created.

Rafayel glared at the small being splashing in the swimming pool in the middle of the baby room. The water in the pool was actually seawater and at the same temperature as the deep waters. Normally, Lemurian children could withstand the temperature above the sea, but babies and toddlers can't. It was all thanks to the protocore technology that they were able to create a baby room appropriate for a half-Lemurian and half-human brat. Brat. That's right. That's what he called his own spawn.

The toddler giggled as you tickled him, making Rafayel pout more. Why was he getting all your attention? The first few months after the baby was born were fine, but he's already eight months old! Isn't it about time for you to turn all your attention back to him, the father?

"At what age will he be able to learn to change his tails to legs?" you asked, not taking your eyes off your son. See? You can't even spare him a small glance, even though you're asking him questions!

"Around three or four. I still need to teach him how. But it's still up to him if he'll be able to master it or not. Not every Lemurian is capable of doing it. Only the talented ones," he replied sullenly.

Noticing that familiar tone, you turned to look at him, and for the first time, you realized he was pouting.

"What's the matter?" you asked him.

"Nothing," he turned away and stomped out of the room.

You look back to your son who was playing around the pool, oblivious to his father's mood.

Days turned into weeks, and Rafayel's frustration lingered. His days were now filled with a mix of responsibilities and longing for the attention he once had. The house echoed with the occasional splash from the baby room, where your son continued to explore his aquatic abilities under your devoted guidance.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you found Rafayel brooding in the dimly lit living room. The soft glow revealed the depth of his emotions, and you couldn't ignore the strain on the relationship.

"Rafayel, we need to talk," you said, settling beside him. He sighed, reluctantly turning to face you.

"It's just... I feel like I've become a background character in my own story. Our story," he confessed, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

You took his hand, reassuringly squeezing it. "I understand it's been an adjustment, but our son needs our attention. We can find a balance."

He nodded, but the ache in his eyes lingered. The following days, you made a conscious effort to involve Rafayel in the daily routines with your son, trying to bridge the emotional gap that had grown.

However, the problem with Rafayel was that he's very stubborn, and no matter how hard he tried, it was difficult for him not to be salty about how much attention his son was getting from you.

One day, you were suddenly called into a mission. Normally, Thomas takes care of your son when you're away, but Thomas is away for now, and calling a babysitter is obviously not an option. After all, you can't let anyone know about your half-Lemurian child. Left with no choice, you have to leave the child in Rafayel's care.

"Rafayel, please take very good care of him," you said, looking at him with a comically desperate expression.

Rafayel gave you a very offended look. "What do you think of me?! Incapable of taking care of my own child?!"

The conversation you had regarding what he was feeling about your child having all your attention lingers in your mind, but you decide to shake it off. Rafayel dislikes cats, but he took good care of one for you back then. What more if it's his flesh and blood? Despite what he was feeling, he wouldn't be irresponsible, right?

You nodded and planted a small kiss on the child's temple before leaving.

Rafayel stared at the doorway with an offended and exaggerated expression of shock.

"She didn't kiss me goodbye!"

The toddler giggled, making Rafayel turn to glare at him.

As Rafayel continued to glare at the toddler, the little mischief-maker seized the opportunity and splashed a handful of water in Rafayel's direction, prompting an unexpected reaction.

Rafayel dramatically recoiled, clutching his heart with mock horror. "Assaulted by a baby! This is outrageous!"

The toddler found this uproarious and burst into giggles, thoroughly enjoying the water-based escapade. Rafayel, however, continued his theatrics, staggering around the room as if gravely wounded.

"You've wounded me, my aquatic progeny! I'm a victim of watery aggression!" Rafayel declared, sinking to his knees in a theatrical display of defeat.

Your son, finding this turn of events entertaining, crawled over to Rafayel and patted him on the head. Rafayel seized the opportunity to cradle the toddler in his arms, feigning weakness.

"Ah, the betrayer himself consoles the wounded party. What a world!" Rafayel exclaimed dramatically, earning more giggles from the toddler.

The baby room transformed into a stage for this impromptu comedy, with Rafayel playing the role of the aggrieved victim. Despite the initial frustration, the absurdity of the situation broke the tension, and laughter echoed through the house.

Rafayel sighed after a few moments. "I wonder if your mommy still loves me. It's unfair! I'm the first! Why does it seem that she loves you more?" He whined as he poked the baby's nose, making him laugh. "Yeah, keep laughing at me. Pour more salt on your father's wound." He sighed. "I don't really hate you or anything. I mean, how can I? You're my son. Your mommy's and mine's son. But it really makes me sad how I ended up being shoved aside when you arrive in our life."

Just then, the child dragged himself off his father and slowly pulled himself towards the drawer. Rafayel watched him and mentally compare him to a seal.

The baby then looked at Rafayel, then back to the drawer, babbling.

"What is it?" Rafayel approached his son questioningly.

The child babbled as if trying to communicate with him.

Rafayel sighed. "I really don't have any idea what you're trying to say."

Pouting with a pout that resembles his, the child tried to reach and pulled lower the drawer handle.

"Hey, don't!"

Rafayel grabbed him away from it, making the child look at him in displeasure.

Rafayel groaned. "I guess Thomas is right. You really do look like a spitting image of me, especially when you're unhappy. Fine. You want to open this?"

Rafayel pulled the bottom drawer open, where he saw a book. He took it out and inspected it.

"What's this?" he muttered as he sat on the couch with the baby on his lap. He flipped the first page and realized it's like a diary. Only, it was a diary of your pregnancy.

When you were pregnant, you decided to write all your thoughts in it and how you felt at that time. Rafayel was unaware of it.

He started to read what you wrote.

"Rafayel is always childish and insufferable. He always annoys me, and sometimes I really want to choke him..."

"What the heck?! Is this all about her complaints about me?!"

The baby chuckled as if understanding what his father was saying.

Rafayel glanced at him. "Your mother... Seriously..." He shook his head and flipped to the next page, reading the contents.

More complaints about him were written. The farther he got, the harsher her words became. By the time he was halfway, he was more than ready to burn the diary. But then...

"Rafayel might not be the most mature guy out there, but he is really trying. Despite my mood swings and weird cravings, he was there, never leaving my side. Even if he always ends up receiving my anger, he never retaliated. Well, after I cried when he talked back once, he stop with his sassy remarks. I guess my cries traumatized him. Haha. If you gave me a chance to exchange him with someone else, I'll never do it. Because he's the only man I ever loved and will always love. He is also the one who gave me my treasure. My child."

As Rafayel read the diary, the realization dawned on him that, during your pregnancy, you had poured your heart onto those pages. The entries spoke volumes about the emotional journey you went through, and he found himself becoming a central figure in the narrative.

In the heartfelt words, you described how Rafayel was your pillar of support, always there to ease your fears and celebrate every milestone. The diary chronicled his late-night runs to satisfy your sudden cravings, the countless moments of reassurance, and the joy he brought into the preparations for the baby's arrival.

As Rafayel continued reading, a mix of emotions played on his face—astonishment, gratitude, and a touch of humility. It was a revelation that he had been a vital part of your pregnancy, more than he had realized.

He glanced at the baby in his lap, who seemed fascinated by the unfolding drama. Rafayel couldn't help but smile, a newfound warmth settling in his heart.

"I had no idea," he murmured, a genuine appreciation for the role he played during those months.

The entries continued to paint a picture of a loving partnership, with Rafayel actively participating in creating a nurturing environment for the upcoming addition to the family. He discovered how, despite his initial grumblings, he had been a source of strength for you.

Closing the diary, Rafayel looked at his son with a newfound understanding. The baby, sensing his father's softened demeanor, reached out and touched Rafayel's cheek, as if acknowledging the unspoken connection.

He hugged the baby. "If she consider you a treasure that I gave her, it makes sense how much she cares about you." He kissed his son's temple. "I also care about you but I guess I just felt so left out, I started seeing you as a rival. I promise it will never happen again."

With the diary in his hands, Rafayel felt a newfound appreciation for the bond he shared with you and the significance of his role in your life. As he embraced his son, a sense of warmth enveloped the room, dissolving the remnants of frustration that had lingered.

In that moment, the past frustrations and perceived rivalries faded away. The baby room became a sanctuary of reflection and realization. Rafayel embraced the depth of his role, not just as a father in the present but as a constant support throughout the journey of bringing their child into the world.

_____

After the particularly challenging mission, you returned home, exhausted yet relieved to be back. Opening the door, you realized it was too quiet.

"Rafayel?" You called out, worried about your husband and child.

You receive no reply and so, you went to the baby room.

Just then, you were greeted by a scene that melted away any residual weariness.

In the dim light of the baby room, you saw Rafayel peacefully sleeping on the pool, the baby nestled on his chest, both in a serene slumber. The sight was heartwarming – a testament to the newfound understanding and unity that had blossomed in your absence.

You couldn't help but smile at the peaceful tableau. Gently, you approached the sleeping duo and planted a soft kiss on Rafayel's kiss. He stirred, slowly waking up with a dazed expression.

"Welcome back," he whispered, his voice still heavy with sleep.

You nodded, savoring the tranquility of the moment. "What happened while I was away?"

Rafayel grinned, gesturing to the peacefully sleeping baby on his chest. "Well, we had a little water-based escapade, a dramatic showdown, and a realization that we're all in this together. Oh, and I read your pregnancy diary. Turns out, I played a more significant role than I thought."

"What?! Where do you find it?!" Your cheek reddened in embarrassment. You almost forgot about that diary.

"Well, a little fishy showed it to me," Rafayel gently shifted, allowing you to join them on the poolside. You gave him a look, annoyed that you wanted to get in the pool and have your hunter outfit get wet.

Sighing, you got in the pool.

"It's my real feelings, by the way," you said, referring to the diary's content.

"Yeah. Sorry for being so childish. I guess I just got used to having all your attention. I mean, I'm used to having everyone's attention. As a child, everyone fawned on me, and even when I became an adult, being the artist that I am, everyone looks up to me. So now, having another being get the attention of the person that I love the most made me anxious. I promise I'll never try to compete with my own son for attention."

"I also want to apologize, Rafayel. I guess I really did neglect you." You kissed his lips, as if apologizing for the times he felt neglected.

"It's fine. But promise me, once our child is old enough, I'll be the number one again."

You chuckled at that and snuggled to him.

"I promise."

"And I'm sorry for being a bit of a drama king," he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckled, "Well, I wouldn't have it any other way. Our story may be a bit dramatic, but it's uniquely ours."

The three of you shared a moment of quiet happiness, basking in the love that bound your unconventional family.

With your son sleeping peacefully between you, the challenges of the past were replaced by a sense of unity and understanding. As you leaned in to share a tender moment with Rafayel, you knew that every twist and turn in your story had led to this beautiful chapter of shared laughter, love, and the promise of a bright future together.

As the moonlight filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow on the room, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the journey that had brought you to this moment.

END

MASTERLIST

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel #rafayel x reader

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little-star-library · 20 days

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I absolutely love hearing Astarion’s laugh, whether it’s from a cheesy joke or when he cracks himself up with his twisted sense of humor. And I don’t think we see him genuinely smile with joy that often other than the times he’s being flirtatious or in his menacing aura when he’s slaughtering his enemies.

But just imagine as the two of you grew closer, it would be so easy to get him laughing. It would start out with small chuckles and the briefest hint of a smile, maybe when some of your fellow traveling companions would get in a stupid argument over the pettiest of things or when you would accidentally trip over your own feet and land flat on your face in the dirt. But as time passes, you would make it your sole purpose just to hear him laugh and it would eventually grow into a sort of a competition between the two of you to crack each other up because he would slowly come to realize how much he loves to see you smile and laugh even in the midst of all the chaos.

At first, he would hate the fact that he was growing soft and vulnerable around you and he felt like he had no control over his boundaries and would think that you were secretly plotting some sort of scheme to get him to trust you further or had him under some sort of spell. But then he started to see that you held no malicious intentions towards him and you just had an aura about you that was full of joy and happiness and was simply contagious for anyone that was around you.

And he would look so cute when he’d be smiling and seeing his crimson eyes light up, with his fangs poking out over his bottom lip and the occasional twitch of his pointy ears whenever you would share a funny story or a witty quip at his overdramatized theatrics. He would playfully pout while you would tease him and mimic his voice and actions, but it was just too hilarious for him not to smile at how comical you looked while doing so.

And if you were in a romantic relationship with him, he would enjoy having those soft moments with you where you could get him to giggle at your affections towards him, from peppering kisses all over his face to tickling and poking each other throughout the day. One of his favorite moments was when the two of you got into a water fight when you were bathing away the sweat and grime from a long day, splashing each other in a fit of laughter and genuinely enjoying your company. And he is so fond of having tender and lighthearted sex with you and making each other laugh at how ridiculous you both are in the heat of the moment while you knock foreheads together and sharing sweet kisses.

You love being able to see him in this new light where he can let his walls go down and you take pride in seeing him act more goofy than usual and he adores you for showing him a different side of intimacy that is pure and virtuous in its simplicity.

(I could go on and on about how to make this man smile and laugh because he deserves to have some happiness in his life and that’s all I want for him, he’s just so sweet.)

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #dungeons and dragons #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x y/n #fluff #little star library

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kitashousewife · 9 months

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“m’gettin sick,” osamu sniffles from his cocoon on the couch. ever since he got home he’s been quiet and sleepy, cuddling up with a blanket despite being hot to the touch.

one thing you’ve learned about osamu, is that he is never sick. ma always joked about how despite every illness that passed through the twins’ schools, teams, or even work; osamu made it out perfectly healthy. you’ve found this to be true. even when you’ve been at your worst, osamu’s immune system has never faltered.

“i can’t be sick,” osamu’s mumbled voice is stuffier than normal, and his nose is a rosy pink. “i got work in the mornin’.”

“not like this, you don’t,” you pour some water from the kettle into his cup and dip the tea bag inside. he waves you off.

“what? just close shop for a day? i can’t do that,” he snatches a few kleenex from the box on the counter, turning around when you raise an eyebrow at him.

“you can actually, and you should.” you slide the tea over to him before heading towards your shared bathroom. “just post something tonight to give everyone a heads up.”

osamu shuffles behind you, tea in one large palm with tufts of kleenex in the other. he huffs when he feels hot once again, flinging off his sweat shirt as quick as he can.

“but kita-“

“kita can deliver to our house, baby. we can bring the rice over a different day.”

you fold your arms and stand by the bath as it fills. osamu copies you, leaning against the doorframe with a pout.

despite being sick as a dog, he won’t go down without a fight. out of principle, of course.

“what about the special i was gonna run?”

“you can do it next week,” you test the water with your palm before adding some epsom salt in.

“what will the regulars do when they head to the store?” osamu puts his palms up dramatically and snorts when you roll your eyes.

“im heading into town tomorrow, i can put a sign in the door. trust me ‘samu, i think they will appreciate you being closed. who wants to eat onigiri from someone with a runny nose?”

he doesn’t say anything. for a minute, you think he’s finally rested his case. after he slips in the bath and lets out a comfortable sigh, he decides to put one last ditch effort in.

“produce gets delivered tomorrow! i have to be there for that!” he’s comically large in the small tub the two of you share, knees folded up as he tries to sink in. you shake your head and he groans.

“fine, fine. okay. i’ll close tomorrow. ya happy?”

“thrilled,” you place a towel next to the tub and sit down. “you need to rest, samu. the shop will be there when you’re better, i promise.”

he pouts again, but this time it’s genuine.

“but i’m never sick,” he splashes water on accident when he leans his head back against the wall. “i take good care of myself! i take my vitamins, drink lots of water, get good sleep,”

your lips tug into a smile.

“and that will help you beat whatever you have even faster. but for now, let’s take it slow okay? get plenty of sleep, heal your body, and stay home.”

osamu nods, and let’s his eyes close. he soaks for a few minutes, relishing in the relief his achey joints feel for the first time all day. while he gets ready for bed, he can’t help but feel his heart swell as he watches you grab extra blankets for his side, knowing he will probably be chilly tonight.

“i’m probably gonna sore with all this shit in my nose,” he sinks under the covers, propping his head up on the extra pillows you set up for him.

“you snore anyway,”

“do not! ya liar,” he smacks your bum when you snuggle up next to him. “don’t touch me, i’ll get ya sick. i’m real contagious,”

you place a big kiss on his forehead before getting back to your original spot.

“i’ll take my chances,” you listed to osamu’s steady heart while he falls asleep. osamu is always taking care of you, grabbing your favorite things from the shop because he’s thinking of you. carrying you when your feet hurt from the heels he told you not to wear, bringing you glasses of water because he knows you aren’t drinking enough, and never asks for anything in return.

“i love ya,” osamu whispers, half asleep and hums when you squeeze him closer.

“i love you too, samu. sleep well.”

#osamu x reader #osamu x reader fluff #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #osamu

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cursedonyx · 17 days

Text

Sebastian and Ominis Headcanons

Sebastian

✧ Adores chocolate to the point it’s almost comical. His absolute favourite is Honeydukes Best Chocolate (which in my mind tastes like a Hotel Chocolat’s milk chocolate with just a hint of caramel and vanilla), but he’s happy with any chocolate except really dark chocolate. Anything above 80% and he’ll turn his nose up at it. Left to his own devices with free reign at night in Honeydukes, you’d find him in the morning in a sugar coma with his tummy almost bursting his shirt buttons, his face covered in chocolate stains and looking about as happy as it’s possible to look.

✧ He’s got rotten hay fever and may occasionally make use of the bubblehead charm when the pollen count’s high. He doesn’t care if people laugh and is happy to explain why – this led to a lot of students capable of using the charm imitating him if they have hay fever.

✧ Loves cats but adores dogs, particularly if they’re big and dopey, like Labradors or Great Danes. He’s not particularly fond of small, yappy dogs like Jack Russells, which is the complete opposite of his twin.

✧ He’s got an immune system like a tank and will shake off most colds and tummy bugs with relative ease, but when he gets poorly, he gets really poorly. Even so, he’ll try and pretend that nothing’s wrong, even when he’s white as a sheet and sweating, barely able to stand. Ominis has had to knock him out and levitate him to the Hospital Wing on more than one occasion to get him to accept help.

✧ On that note, he absolutely refuses any kind of help unless it’s on behalf of someone else. He’s happy to accept help when he’s searching for a cure for Anne, but if he’s struggling with an essay, confused about his feelings for someone, or just needs to process something, he won’t ask for help, and tries to play it off as him just having an off day.

✧ Sebastian thinks fart jokes are hilarious. The whoopee cushion was invented in the 1930s, and Sebastian was a menace with the damn thing. Think Leslie Neilsen bringing a fart machine to interviews.

✧ Sebastian is a proper summer baby and loves being outside in the sunshine. He loves the excuse to splash about in streams or go swimming, and has tried to teach Ominis how to swim. Sadly, Ominis isn’t keen on the idea as he can’t tell where anything is in the water.

✧ Sebastian’s temper is like a firecracker; quick to spark, quick to explode, and just as quick to go out. He doesn’t forgive easily, especially if the person who’s annoyed him has deliberately tried to hurt him or someone he loves, but he doesn’t tend to hold grudges. Unless it's serious, if he can’t get revenge in a week or two, he tends to move on from the idea though that doesn’t mean he won’t hate the person for a time.

✧ Sebastian’s opinions of people always start out neutral, and they can be swayed positively or negatively through a variety of factors. Lots of little positive things can be overshadowed by one huge negative, but it takes a lot more effort to change his negative opinion to a positive one.

✧ He eats anything and everything. He’s got a big appetite and tends to consume food at a rate that would shame a graphorn. If he didn’t have so much nervous energy, he’d probably end up a little porky.

✧ His boggart would be Anne’s corpse. If Anne is cured, or he has to spend any time in Azkaban, this changes to a dementor.

✧ His animagus form and patronus would be a fox without a doubt – his colouring would be browner than most foxes and mottled with darker ‘freckles’ all down his back and tail. His favourite part about being an animagus is having a tail.

Ominis

✧ Doesn’t like sweets, and particularly loathes chocolate, much to Sebastian’s horror. This is due to his upbringing and a particular trauma around his parents trying to cure his blindness then forcing him to eat chocolate as a ‘reward,’ no matter how much he didn’t want to, and he was shouted at until he ate it. Consuming something chocolatey will bring back those memories, so he avoids it where possible.

✧ He absolutely adores tiny summer strawberries though, and he will actively seek them out. They’re very hard for him to find by himself and he usually gets a bit down if he can’t find any, so if you go foraging and present him with a punnet, there’s a pretty strong chance he’ll fall in love with you.

✧ Has no allergies, but gets poorly relatively easily. If there’s a cold going about Hogwarts, you can bet that Ominis will catch it if he’s not patient zero. He’s like an illness magnet in that way. Similarly to Sebastian, he won’t complain about it unless he’s in a romantic relationship, then all he’ll do is whine because he knows his partner will make a big fuss of him and look after him the way his family never did. He’s a sucker for being pampered.

✧ Ominis has a bit of a sensitive tummy, and he tends to stick to foods he knows are safe. He’s happy to try new foods, but he prefers to try them in very small amounts to minimise the risk of upsetting his stomach.

✧ Ominis gets hilariously embarrassed around toilet humour, and for the most part pretends that people don’t go to the bathroom. If it comes up in conversation, he either won’t engage and pretend it’s not happening, or he’ll change the subject at the first opportunity.

✧ He’s a cat magnet, and even the most aloof or grumpy cats will be happy to curl up in his lap. They love finding Ominis during one of his naps, and unless he’s in his dorm or the Undercroft, he’ll wake up in a puddle of cats. He finds them very comforting.

✧ He adores snakes and longs to have one as a pet, but after an incident when he was seven involving a snake he made friends with that he called Daisy, and his brother Marvolo, he’s absolutely terrified of making friends with another one, just in case Marvolo does what he did again (Considering doing a very angsty and painful short fic of this idea, but it’s pretty unpleasant so I’m in two minds).

✧ Hates being cold, but suffers terribly in the heat. UK summers are horribly humid, and he can’t stand it. A dryer summer heat like the South of France is the only kind he can tolerate, and he’s grateful the Slytherin common room is in the dungeons, so at least he can still sleep in the summer. Otherwise, he will complain constantly about how hot it is.

✧ Ominis is a filthy gossip. Any kind of rumour and he’ll hear about it and spread it with relish, especially if it’s about someone that’s wronged him in the past. Even without this, he loves to gossip about absolutely anything, and those that know will often seek him out to ask if rumours are true. He wields this small power with satisfaction, especially as it means he’s able to field any rumours about his friends and turn attention to other things going about the castle.

✧ Ominis has a long memory and a fertile imagination. Though his patience for shenanigans is short, it’s unending when it comes to plotting revenge. If you wrong the Prince of Snakes, you better be on your guard for the rest of your life. He will not forget, and the punishment will always fit the crime. Unless of course he hates the person in question or is protecting his loved ones, then you can expect Ominis to go scorched earth in order to get revenge.

✧ Ominis’ boggart doesn’t have a physical form, but it takes on the sound of hissing snakes. To the casual observer, they’d think he was frightened of snakes, and Ominis is perfectly happy to let people think that. In actuality, it’s his family speaking to him in Parseltongue, reminding him of his worst experiences of home and threatening to take him away from his friends, forcing him to live with them and bow to their ways.

✧ Ominis has a healthy dose of fear of his parents, but he’s absolutely terrified of Marvolo. Marvolo bullied him relentlessly when they were young, and once Noctua went missing, it only got worse, and their parents never discouraged it, claiming it would help Ominis build character. Marvolo is the person Ominis nightmares about the most.

✧ Ominis’ patronus and animagus form is a serpent, but contrary to typical animagi/patronuses, which tend to mimic each other, Ominis’ patronus is an enormous snake, similar to an anaconda, while his animagus form is more similar to a ball python, pale gold in colour with darker scales that mimic his beauty marks.

Masterlist

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy headcanons #sebastian sallow headcanons #ominis gaunt headcanons

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television-overload · 6 days

Text

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 34/34 - epilogue

[Read on AO3]

Greenwich, CT

May 2001

-.-.-

“Smile at the camera, sweetheart!” Mulder calls, holding the camcorder up in front of him and peering through the viewfinder. “You too, beautiful.”

Scully pauses her search for seashells with Madeline, tapping the little girl on the shoulder and showing her where to look. As soon as she spots him, a chubby little finger points in his direction, her face lighting up in a smile, and with his free hand, he waves back.

“Hi Miss Madeline!” he says, zooming in on the two of them as they go back to their search for seashells in the sand. “Are you having fun?” He pans down to the gentle waves as they lap at the shoreline, coming closer and closer and finally tickling at the toes of Maddie and Scully, eliciting a shriek of joy from the now toddling one-year-old.

“Is it cold?” he asks.

“A little cold, still,” Scully answers, leading their daughter by the hand a little further from the ocean. He zooms back out, capturing the full picture of this lovely New England beach as it nears sundown, the warmth starting to fade along with the light.

“How about this one?” a soft, older voice cuts in, walking carefully over the sand toward little Maddie, who holds out her hand in acceptance. Teena Mulder leans down and places a large white seashell in her hand, which little Maddie thoroughly inspects.

“Did Grandma find a big one, baby?” Mulder asks, walking closer to his family to get a better look at the spoils of their seashell hunting trip.

Maddie holds it up for the camera. “Ah!” she answers, tugging at Scully’s hand to bring her closer to her dad.

“Oh, look at that!” he says enthusiastically, widening his eyes comically. She grunts and stretches her arm out as far as it will go—her way of telling him she wants to give him something. He chuckles and holds out his hand, accepting her gift with a wide brimming smile. “Thank you, sweet pea. Should Daddy hold onto that for you?”

Scully’s lips pull back in a smile as she looks up at him. “I think that’s probably a good idea,” she answers for Maddie.

Mulder tucks the shell into his pocket, pressing the record button on the camcorder and checking that there’s still battery left before looping the strap over his shoulder.

“Alright, Daddy’s turn, little stinker,” he says, grabbing Maddie by the hands and lifting her into the air. She squeals in delight, swinging in an arc until he plops her back down in the shallowest bit of water where the sea meets the shore.

“Mulder, you’re gonna get the camera wet!” Scully calls out, her brow slanted in either worry or disapproval.

Maddie stomps around in the water, giggling at the way it splashes up when she does.

“Did you hear that, Maddie?” Mulder asks in mock alarm, addressing his question directly to his daughter, though speaking loud enough for Scully to hear. “Mommy thinks I’m going to drop this expensive camcorder into two inches of water, can you believe it?!”

Madeline gapes up at him, clearly having no clue what he’s talking about, but just happy to be included.

“I did not say you’d drop it,” Scully corrects, pursing her lips and crossing her arms in that way that he’s always thought looked so adorable, especially with how tiny she is.

Mulder walks Maddie back over to the others, silently handing her and the camera off to his mother with a playful glint in his eye.

“You’re worried about getting the camera wet, Scully?” he asks, his voice dangerously low as he approaches her, taking one long, drawn out step at a time.

“Mulder, don’t,” Scully warns, suddenly catching on to this game he’s playing, but she’s too late. She tries to escape, but he grabs her around the middle and lifts her into the air, taking off toward the ocean with laughter on his breath.

He bridal carries her as he wades out into the water, the salty seawater soaking up to his knees. The cold temperature invigorates him—makes him feel alive. Or maybe it’s the pleading screeches of his wife as she yells at him to take her back in between irrepressible fits of giggles.

She clings onto him for dear life, lifting her feet so they don’t dangle into the brisk ocean as he comes to a sudden stop.

“I think this is far enough,” he says thoughtfully, looking around them with a contemplative gaze.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she says, her jaw dropping open. She can pretend to be aghast by his actions all she wants—she can’t hide that underlying amusement that pulls at the corners of her lips.

“Sorry, honey,” he says, meeting her eyes with a shrug. And with that, he drops her into the water.

She comes up gasping, her mouth open wide in disbelief that he’d really gone through with it.

“Mulder!” she yells, wiping water from her eyes and smoothing her hair back out of her face. He doubles over laughing, unable to restrain himself. “Help me up,” she demands, reaching her hand out for him to grab on to.

He acquiesces, gripping her slippery fingers with both hands, and pulling, but instead of pulling her up, he finds himself being yanked downward, and it’s not long before he, too, has pants full of sand.

“You happy now?” he asks, resigned to his fate.

“No!” she shrieks, her brows raised to her forehead. Water drips down and gets caught in her eyelash, and she wipes it away, fighting back a smile. “I’m all wet, Mulder!” she complains. “We have to drive back to your mom’s house like this!”

“So what?” he says, pulling her toward him by the waist. He presses a firm kiss to her cold lips, warming them with his own for a moment before pulling back. His fingertips tease at her sides, causing her to squirm away.

He remembers the day he found out Scully was ticklish. One of the greatest days of his life, for sure.

“Mulder…” she complains, though this time with a little less fervor. The waves crash against them incessantly, occasionally splattering one of them with a splash of seawater to the eye.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, this time actually helping her to her feet. “I’ll wrap you in a big fuzzy blanket as soon as we get home, I promise.” He gives her one final peck on the lips once they’re upright again, and leads her by hand back to the shore, where his mother watches on in amusement.

“Was that really the best decision, Fox?” she asks, her scrutinizing eyes traveling over their soaked clothing and back up to their reddened faces.

Best decision? No. That honor goes to the day he’d decided to pursue adoption with Scully. This family—one of their own making—that was the best decision he’d ever made. Nothing else would ever come close.

But having a little fun, dumping her in the water and getting absolutely soaked…? Well, he’d never regret anything that made Scully laugh. From the first moment he heard it in the graveyard in Bellefleur, it’s been his life’s mission to hear it again. In the past year, he’s succeeded more times than he can count.

“No regrets,” he declares proudly, pressing a kiss to the back of Scully’s hand, still intertwined with his own.

Teena shakes her head in fond disdain, setting Madeline down on the sand so that she can focus on walking over the uneven terrain back to the car. Maddie reaches up with both of her hands, and Mulder grabs one while Scully grabs the other.

“Wet!” she says, her little forehead pinching in concern, the word apparently one of the few that she knows.

Mulder shakes his head over top of her, sprinkling her with water droplets from his hair and causing her to shriek. “No!” she squeals. “No, Da-da!”

Scully laughs, her feet slipping a bit in the sand as she walks.

“Come on, now, you two can’t team up on me!” Mulder protests.

“You’re outnumbered, Mulder,” Scully points out, and he heaves an exaggerated sigh.

By the time they get back to Teena Mulder’s house—only a short drive away—the seats of their car are damp with seawater and Scully has informed him that he’ll be the one cleaning it when they get back to their house in Virginia. He responds with, “Yes, dear,” a phrase that never fails to make her roll her eyes.

Madeline falls asleep on the ride home, clutching the seashell that Grandma Mulder had found in her hand like a stuffed animal. As much as they hate to put her in bed still covered in salt and sand from the ocean, they really don’t want to wake her, so they do the best they can to clean her off before setting her down in the travel crib they brought. It’s their last day anyway. The sheets can be cleaned.

Scully gives him first dibs on the shower, biding her time by packing up the little room they’ve shared at his mother’s house for the past week. He re-emerges feeling like a new man, free from that grimy feeling of being covered in salt.

Her shower takes longer than usual. He starts to miss her, not wanting to go to bed without her, but feeling the undeniable call of the down mattress and pillows.

He knocks on the door, asking her if she’s almost finished.

She opens it slowly, holding a piece of plastic in her hands and looking astonished.

He glances down at it, two blue lines the same color as the paint in his mother’s coastal-themed guest bathroom beaming up at him.

He’s not sure whether he should laugh or cry at first. She looks up at him, uncertainty darkening her face, and he settles for scooping his wife into his arms, rocking her back and forth in complete disbelief.

After he’s taken a moment to absorb this new information, he pulls back, holding her in place and grinning uncontrollably down at her.

“Scully, do you ever get the feeling that the universe is laughing at us?” he asks, chuckling a little as he takes in the glow that he’s just now noticing around her.

“I don’t know if the universe is capable of laughing, Mulder,” she responds in her shaky voice, ever the skeptic. “But someone definitely is.”

“Well, Dana,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead and splaying his hand over her abdomen. “I was just thinking about how much I missed the newborn stage.”

~~~

end.

~~~

I have so much to say, and I don't know where to start. Apologies in advance for the long author's note.

To all of you who have read and commented here and on AO3 (I'm still a bit in shock over just how many of you there are), thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your response has meant the world to me, and to know you've looked forward to updates just as I have for stories by authors I look up to… Well, it's humbling.

Since I started writing fanfiction a decade ago, I've always wanted to find the patience and inspiration to write a proper slow burn and have people follow along. Now, this turned out even longer than I expected it to--and at times during the three months it took to write, I felt like I had overestimated my patience to keep writing--but I'm really happy with how it turned out. Checking this one off my bucket list!

To @numinousmysteries: Your help with beta reading and offering suggestions is so appreciated. I've never written anything of this magnitude before, and your encouragement was a much-needed reassurance prior to posting this. I think the story is better off having taken into account your advice, so for that, I am so grateful.

To all X-Philes: I am continuously amazed by how alive this fandom is over 30 years later. You have been so welcoming. I only watched the show for the first time in February 2023, so while I'm still fairly new around here, it doesn't really feel like it.

Now, to answer the question some of you have been asking… Will there be more?

At this time, I don't have anything planned and am not sure when I'll be writing again, but I certainly have some ideas. The way the final two chapters came together obviously skips over what could be some important or at least interesting character moments (Charlie comes to mind, as well as the whole Scully clan). If inspiration strikes, of course I'd love to expand this story into it's own series, probably consisting of mostly one-shots.

I also think it would be fun to take prompts on here for scenes you'd like to see in this universe. No promises on how quickly I'll get to them, but why not--if you have something in mind, feel free to send me an ask and I'll try to get to them as the muse hits. If I do, they'll be posted here and on AO3.

This is turning into a "midwest goodbye" of an author's note, so… Okay, that's it. Yeah. Thanks again for reading. Till next time!

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [thank you all for following along and/or letting me clog your notifications for a month!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption

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juuuulez · 7 months

Note

i sound rlly weird asking but can u make a part two of the jerk!ng off head cannons for carl 😇😇

literally of course my man ALWAYS deserves to feel good

this is short and sweet, also strayed away from headcanons and did a little bit of a fic….actually loved writing this

NSFW under the cut, all characters depicted are 18+, MDNI.

It was a hot summers day in Alexandria, resulting in a group of teenagers making their way down to a nearby lake, intending on cooling off and having some fun.

Usually, Carl considered himself more… mature than his peers. There was a war actively brewing, and that’s not to mention walkers, so he didn’t see the value in such a meaningless activity.

Yet, you’d convinced him to come.

“Please, Carl. It’ll be fun!” You’d pleaded, “What else were you gonna do all day? Read comics?”

At the time, he’d protested, made some excuse that he was helping his father. But he wasn’t, and you were right.

So here he was, sitting on one of the large rocks lining the lake, flannel still cast over his shoulders.

The few other teens, yourself included, were enjoying the cool reprieve from the heat. Splashing around, throwing handfuls of sand at each other.

Carl was trying his hardest not to look at you.

Now, he’d never actually seen.. so much of a woman before. Sans those lewd comics, but this was different.

Your bikini was tiny, spaghetti straps wrapping over your shoulders, little triangle cups covering a portion of your breasts. Though the bottoms didn’t match, they were equally small, riding up your ass cheeks and showing a sliver of your inner thighs.

“Carl! Come in!” You’re suddenly calling out to him, which immediately draws his gaze. There’s no avoiding it as you tread closer, propping your elbows up onto the rock that he’s sitting on.

It only squeezes your breasts together, presented nicely in the frame of your arms. Sitting there, waiting.

He forces himself to maintain eye contact, not wanting you to pick up on his obvious disarray. The flush of his cheeks, or the way he squirms a little under the attention. “No, I’m alright.” He excuses.

But you won’t accept this, your grin widening as you hoist yourself onto the rock, coming to sit next to him. “C’mon, you’ve gotta chill out a bit, sometime. Taking a quick dip in the lake isn’t gonna hurt anyone.”

As you speak, your wet skin brushes against his flannel, the contact only worsening the flood of emotions that Carl is experiencing. It’s too much, too quickly, the presence of a pretty, dripping wet, girl is too much to handle.

The sun shines down through the trees, reflecting off your water-coated skin and hair, making it shine. Little droplets slip down your curves, and his eyes fall to one in particular, travelling down the open valley of your breasts.

“I’m going to check the perimeter.” Carl quickly says, swiftly standing up and turning away from you, not wanting to spare another glance at your body. It’s too tempting. That, and a shameful blush makes it’s way to his cheeks, his own body reacting to the contact in a way he’d rather you not realise.

He trudges past the treeline, out into the expanse of forest that circles the lake. It’s not too far off from Alexandria, in fact, he can just see the walls from this distance.

Carl wants to stay, he really does. Anything to put that smile on your face, where you’d say his name in that happy tone, completely enamoured by the smallest thing.

But he’s got a problem to deal with.

He leans against a tree, the thin flannel acting as a barrier between his back and the bark. There’s an obvious tent in his swimmers, poorly hidden due to the loose material.

“Fuck..” Carl curses under his breath, a little annoyed that he even has to do this. It doesn’t feel leisurely, but a chore, an irritating burden that needs to be solved before he can go have fun with everybody else.

So he takes another look around, making sure the area is clear before snaking his hand underneath the waistband, letting his fist wrap around his half-hard cock. A few strokes brings it to its full length, already hot and throbbing, where he can pull it free.

This isn’t the time to draw it out, so Carl clamps one hand over his mouth, the other working feverently to jerk himself off, as quickly as possible.

Yet, he can’t help but fall into a pleasurable rhythm, eye falling closed as he savours the feeling. His mind wanders, curious as to what you’d think of him now, doing something so lewd with no privacy.

It causes embarrassment to well in his gut, but it only fuels his desire, squeezing his hand a little tighter around his length, thumb collecting the precum from the tip only to spread it back down.

Each time his mind lingers too long on you, in that tiny bikini, he can practically feel it oozing out of him. Desperation floods his veins, now more focused on cumming, a reality that isn’t far away now that his brain is filled with images of you, on your knees before him.

What would your mouth feel like? Your hands? Would you take it slow, drag it out, or were you more of a quickie person?

Eventually Carl’s mind lands on you with your mouth open, plump lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. He similarly stimulates the swollen head, groaning into the back of his hand as he finally shoots his load onto the forest floor.

The pleasure begins to subside, ebb away, but the embarrassment stays. Though he takes a moment to compose himself, try and regain his footing, when Carl finally comes back to the lake, it’s quite obvious the boy is in some state.

There’s tree bark in his hair.

You smile, finally coaxing Carl into the water. He still doesn’t look at you, all embarrassed and flushed. This time, you make a point to lean as close as possible, to stroke your hand up his arm, let your thighs touch under the water.

How long will he last this time?

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #carl grimes #twd x reader #carl grimes x you #twd x you

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eluminium · 2 months

Text

SKIZZLEMAN WEEK LETS GOO!!!! May not have actually written and finished something for like two years BUT SKIZZLEMAN WEEK IS MORE POWERFUL THAN PROCRASTINATION!!!!

Thank you @skizzlemanweek for organizing and creating these prompts!

Prompt 1: Silent/Shout

It had been a weirdly silent few weeks on Magic Mountain.

Well, kind of. Of course, with seven hermits nearby and many more in horse riding distance, real silence is quite a rare phenomenon. But for the residents around Magic Mountain, an uncomfortable stillness louder than expected had settled into their hearts lately. As she cleans out the bones of her latest catch, Gem remembers mentioning it to Impulse recently.

"I didn't realize how much the man talks until he was gone. And now I'm like: Oh, this is what it's like for there to be silence, actually!"

The man in question? None other than Skizzleman, of course! Who isn't dead, just on some off-server business of some kind. At least that's what he told Gem and the others before leaving.

She rolls her eyes fondly at how Scar started talking about some conspiracy theory of his where Skizz is some heaven-sent spy barely a tick after Skizz took his leave. A rant that resulted in poor Mumbo explaining to a confused Joel that Scar's comic-book hero phase last season had some lasting side effects.

She unceremoniously drops the fish bones into the river outside her new anglerfish-shaped fish shop. They hit the water with a small splash before sinking into the murkiness below. Gotta give back to the river! Otherwise, it'll get mad. That's basic fisherwoman knowledge.

When she turns to head back inside so she can put the fish on the cutting boards away, her eyes catch the faint silhouette of Skizz's pyramid in the distance. The sight of it makes the silence around her somehow more prevalent. A sigh leaves her. She misses him. She never thought that the silence he leaves behind would suck this much.

But as she heads back inside, Gem reminds herself that she won't need to miss him for long. He said he'd only be gone for a few weeks, so he's due to be back pretty soon. Then she can go back to poking him for being old or something. In fact, she can almost hear him shout an overdramatic "HEYYY!" already as she points out that-

Wait.

She quickly drops the floppy boneless salmon in the chilled chest and rushes out the door. She may have a good imagination, but it's not THAT good! She looks around rapidly until her eyes catch something. Two figures in the distance. She squints, but it doesn't really help, so she pulls out a spyglass instead.

She can't help but gasp in surprised happiness when she spots familiar feathery wings and a bright spinning halo. It's Skizz! He's back!

Of course, Impulse stands next to him, his demonic tail flapping wildly in excitement. They seem to already be caught up in a conversation. Typical them, can't leave each other alone for five seconds. Seems like the perfect time for her to come and deliver some made-with-love Gem Punches!

But just as she's about to put the spyglass down and run over, she spots a shocking change in Impulse's facial expression. The happy smile decorating his face melts in a tick into something unreadable. (Fear? Annoyance? Teasing? A mix of that and more?) Confused, Gem stops and pans the spyglass over to Skizz's face. Is he…Is he making kissy faces at Impulse-?

Before she can even process what's going on, Impulse looks in her general direction and RUNS. Full-on sprints at top speed in a manner Gem would be impressed he could do if she wasn't so caught off guard. The spyglass quickly disappears into her inventory as she watches him approach with Skizz hot on his heels.

"GEM!!! HELP!!!" Impulse shouts in a clearly overdramatic tone.

"You can't run forever Dipple Dop!!!" Skizz cackles manically.

"What are you idiots doing?!" She tries to put on a tone of playful annoyance, but her amusement leaks through like water through a hole in a boat.

"He's gonna kiss me on the cheek, Gem!!! You gotta help me!!!" Impulse squeals as he runs around in circles on the shore, skillfully dodging Skizz's attempts to grab him.

Gem can't help it. She bursts out laughing so hard it almost hurts her throat. These dudes, she swears. Obviously, if Impulse was actually uncomfortable with the situation he'd tell Skizz, and they wouldn't have a silly goose chase on her front lawn, so she feels rather justified in cackling at his supposed misfortune. And she only laughs harder when Impulse lets out various desperate noises of desperation, which are comical enough that Skizz has to stop his chase because he's laughing too hard. His hands land on his knees as he completely loses it together with Gem. Impulse giggles and stops in his tracks instead of running further, all but confirming that they're just messing around.

"Wow, Gem! I beg for your help, and you laugh at me? I thought we were friends!" He says in an overly hurt tone while crossing his arms and sniffling dramatically.

Gem opens her mouth to respond, but before a single syllable leaves her, Skizz pounces on Impulse and finally scores his victory by snagging a smooch on the man's cheek. He even manages to catch Impulse in a hug. Gem lets out something between a cheer and an "awwwwwww!" as Impulse wiggles in his best friend's grasp.

"I missed you, Dipple Dop!" Skizz says with happy sincerity as he squeezes said Dipple Dop.

"Missed ya too buddy" Impulse responds, sounding like he's getting all air wrung out of him. He pats Skizz on the back. Skizz, in turn, lets him go and turns his eyes to Gem, still standing in the mouth of her anglerfish. He wastes no time jumping into the river, splashing water everywhere, and then swimming over to her.

"And I missed you too, Gemstone!" He cheers as she helps him up onto the solid (?) ground.

Gem can't help but smile as she tackles him for a hug of her own. As his sturdy and comfy arms wrap around her she feels, more than hears, how the hush around Magic Mountain fades away as one of its seven lively mountaineers has come home once again.

#skizzleman #hermitcraft #skizz week 1 #skizz week #my writing #impulsesv #geminitay #hermitfic #ARE YOU SURPRISED???#BECAUSE I SURE AM #HAVN'T POSTED ANY WRITING IN SO LONG BUT SKIZZ WEEK GOT ME IN A TRANCE #do people even remember that i write

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desiderio-dixon · 4 months

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Darkest Before the Dawn

Chapter One : Sugar, I'm going down

Pairing : Daryl Dixon x f!reader (endgame), (unrequited) Glenn Rhee x f!reader

Series summary : When Glenn Rhee comes into your life, you become convinced he's a guardian angel sent by your late best friend. You think he's your soulmate. But then he falls for the farmer's daughter, and you find that your own angel may be a little more blatant than expected; wings and all.

Chapter summary : The group sets up for a run to Atlanta, and you fall ill.

Chapter warnings : brief suicidal ideation, violence, language, typical twd themes

Word count : 1.7k (a little baby introductory chapter)

A/N : hello! im no stranger to the fanfiction community but this is my first time writing for daryl so be easy on me please lol. i have the whole series planned out so I hope somebody out there enjoys!

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The plan. What was it? What was the plan? You can't remember. You can't think. The blood is fresh and sticky and it pools in your hands. Bitter and metallic and filling your lungs. She gurgles, her head in your lap. More blood slips from her lips, running a path down her cheek. Somewhere distant, far off in your mind, you're aware it's leaking through your jeans. Warm on your thigh.

Her hand reaches to your jaw, trying to grasp it weakly. All you can manage is a shaky breath, closing your eyes.

Thump.

You know there's one left. Somewhere among the shelves. You just can't care. Let death take you. Let that thing pull you into it's cold grasp and sink it's rotting teeth into you.

You smell it first. The putrid rot overpowering the fresh metal of your best friends blood. And then you hear it too. The lazy shuffling of it's feet. That's when her hand grasps you harder. She can't speak but you know she's pleading. 'Save yourself'.

When it's close enough for it's ragged pant leg to brush your ankle, your body tenses. It's uncontrolled. You want this, but it will be painful. Your breath catches in your lungs, anticipating, awaiting.

But it never comes. And when the body slumps to the ground heftily, her hand slips from your jaw. Your eyes snap open.

That's the first time you see him. All clammy skin, panicked eyes, and splattered blood over his white T-shirt. "Come on, we gotta go!" He ushers. And he must see your eyes flicker to the limp body in your lap. "She's--She's gone. I'm sorry." Yes. She's gone. But somewhere in your soul, you find yourself believing that she sent him. You never were terribly spiritual or faithful; But in this case you hang on, desperately, to the concept. That, as she left this world, she gave you a gift. To keep you going.

And so you do.

"And that is how I met Glenn." You finish your recounting, though this version was much less detailed and much more comical. You wouldn't want to cry on the boat. Andrea told you it scares the fish.

Amy giggles and Andrea scoffs. "You? Some damsel in distress?" Andrea says, peering up at you while she tightens her knot. "I would think you're too stubborn for that."

You huff. "Yeah, well, things were different back then." You playfully defend, debating splashing her. Surely *that* would scare the fish though.

"Can't have been that different a month ago!" Amy chimes in. If the sudden end of the world taught you anything, it was that a *lot* could change in a month.

"Last time I join you guys out here!" You tease.

When you three return back to camp, Andrea and Amy garner various cheers over their impressive catches, though it's not enough for everyone to eat tonight. You, you're happy enough with your one minnow. Gotta start somewhere.

You dump your single fish by the fire, where the Dixon brothers sit. "Fishin' ain't your thing, huh, sugar?" Merle drawls. You pay him no mind, only sending a quick nod to the younger brother before strolling away. Merle was nothing but trouble. Crude words and cruder actions. Daryl, though, was nice enough. Quiet. He never seemed to say much to anyone but his brother. In your opinion, his value to the group was nearly unmatched. Most of the food in camp was provided by him.

You spot Glenn by the RV, chatting up Dale as per usual. Those two had an admirable student/mentor relationship. Raising your hand to block the beating Georgia sun from your eyes, you walk to join them. Glenn grins when he sees you approaching. It makes your chest warm. "Hey, guys." You call.

"Hey! We were just talking about you." Glenn says. Your insides feel like they do a somersault. They were talking about you? Stuck somewhere between honored and worried.

You chance a look at Dale. The older man always seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve. Wide eyes telling his wise tales for him. He seemed casual now. "Do I wanna know?" You joke, leaning into the side of the RV. Glenn puts his hands in his pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet as he so often does. You find it cute.

"Just another run in Atlanta. Shane wants a bigger haul though. Not just you and me this time." You and Glenn had been scavenging partners since the day he first found you, only a couple weeks in. It was just easy with him. While it was important to be compatible in the ways of scavenging and fighting, you found it even more valuable to be compatible in that human way. Humor, connection. It was difficult to go on runs with people you didn't much talk to. Tension with your partner led to being distracted.

But of course, Shane wasn't satisfied. He never quite was. No matter how many trips to the woods he took with Lori. You scoffed at the thought. "Well, is Shane gonna do some of the dirty work himself?" You ask.

Truthfully, in the time you'd been in camp, you felt Shane didn't contribute much at all. The women were set to cooking and laundry. The Dixons were to hunt. You and Glenn to scavenge. And Shane to reap the benefits while ordering everyone around.

Glenn laughed. "Course not. Shane is king of the swamp!" That earns a huff out of Dale. He shakes his head in amusement before stepping into the RV and shutting the door behind him.

In his absence, Glenn filled you in on the plans.

"Merle? Seriously?" You roll your eyes. The idea of being anywhere near Merle for longer than ten minutes was enough to make you rip your hair out of your scalp. Why couldn't it have been the more respectable Dixon?

Glenn shrugs, his eyebrows raised with a similar look of displeasure. "He volunteered."

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Trudging back to your tent that night, your legs felt like lead. You must just be tired from all the time in the sweltering Georgia heat. The act of laying on your cot made your head spin, spots rolling over your vision. Figuring you'd need rest for the run tomorrow, you decided to try sleeping immediately. No reading or journaling tonight.

You drifted off without even realizing. When you awoke a few hours later, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body, you couldn't remember falling asleep at all. Disoriented, you stood up. The world spun for a few moments as you stumbled out into the cool night air. The dry breeze brushing over your damp skin brought goosebumps onto your arms.

Something was definitely wrong. You could feel your legs trembling under you as you walked towards the communal area. The water was kept there. Maybe you were dehydrated. Finally reaching the stash of bottled water, you collapse onto your knees. The plastic crinkles loudly as you try to open one. With your weakened, shaking arms, you find that you can't manage.

"The hell 're you doin'?" Any other day and the sudden gruff voice would've scared the shit out of you. In your dazed state, though, you only manage to look towards Daryl. You must look like hell with the way his face blanches when he sees you. The moonlight does you no favors, exaggerating the shine of sweat on your skin. Your color is off too, two shades too light. He can see your hands trembling where they hold the water bottle. "Ya bit?" He asks.

You shake your head, clearing your throat. "I don't know what's wrong. I don't..." You trail off, voice going weak. At the confirmation that you're not infected, Daryl draws closer. His boots crunch over the drying leaves and damp soil. You wonder if he'd gone to sleep at all, given that he's fully dressed. You swallow. "...feel right." You finally manage to finish.

Daryl crouches in front of you, reaching his hand to brush your forehead. The contact seems more uncomfortable for him than you. He draws his hand back quickly, like the act of touching you is painful. "Ain't got a fever," He grabs the water bottle from you roughly, opening it easily before passing it back. "Yer right though, somethin' ain't right with ya. Im'a get Shane."

Before he can walk away, you grab his wrist. He jumps at your touch, whipping his arm out of your grip. You pay it no mind. "Not Shane. Get Carol, please." You plead, staring up at him. He hesitates before giving you one single nod, trudging off in the direction of Carol and Ed's tent. You sip your water while you wait. Part of you worries that Ed will be mad if he's woken, but you know he's probably too piss-drunk to wake to anything.

Carol's always made you feel safe. You wish you could do the same for her. Most days you find yourself wishing you could simply will Ed out of existence. Instead, you do your best to offer her and Sophia small comforts; a nice pair of earrings for Carol, a new doll for Sophia. Throughout your time in camp, you'd grown to see Carol as a sort of motherly figure. She looked out for you, and you, her.

Before long, Carol and Daryl are jogging up to you. Carol crouches down with you while Daryl hangs back, chewing the side of his thumb. He seems like he doesn't know whether he should stay or go. Carol's cold hands caress your cheeks and forehead, examining the clammy skin for sighs of fever surely. "You okay?" She softly murmurs, giving your cheek a soft pat before pulling her hands back.

"I just feel sort of--dazed? Sweaty and shaky too." You explain to the best of your abilities. Something about the way Daryl was looking at you from behind Carol made you nervous. You pick at the drying leaves on the floor around you, soil piling under your nails.

Carol nodded, pushing up onto her feet. She turned to Daryl, "She's probably low on sugar. None of us have had much to eat lately." She was meek around Daryl. Truthfully, she's meek around all the men at camp. Always careful to not raise her voice or make a joke.

Daryl just nodded, thumb still in mouth. Carol wandered off, muttering something about candybars in her tent. To your surprise, Daryl remained. You trailed your eyes up his body. When you met his eyes, he quickly averted his sight. "Ya ain't goin' on that run today." He says, tone leaving no room for argument. And just like that, he leaves you in the middle of camp, awaiting Carol's return.

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#twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x you #daryl dixon #daryl x female reader #daryl x y/n #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd imagine

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careydraws · 1 year

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Here's a writeup about the process of making this 12x18" poster that's in the booksamillion special edition of TAZ: the Eleventh Hour GN! It looks like there are still some available for preorder!

Long post about how I got from the initial options I sent to my editor to the final below the cut (or unlocked on my patreon here).

We found out pretty late in the life cycle of making the actual book artwork that we were going to get to do a special edition that included a poster, which was nice because it meant I had a good sense of what cool moments in the book we might want to highlight... and what existing art I might be able to use as scaffolding, because these books are on extremely tight deadlines and there was not a separate timeline for painting a whole poster. So when we can avoid doing that, it saves me a lot of time and heart/wristache... but it's not always possible! spoilers: it was not possible this time around.

I started out by sending my editor two options for poster designs: one that would save some work by letting me reuse cover & interior elements that happened to be drawn at a large size, and one that was loosely based on a page with a fun splash panel, but would require total redraw and repaint. As I said in an email,

...Unfortunately, we both agreed that the one that was going to be more work (A) was the cooler choice & would make for a better poster. Also, by this point I was thinking about doing a version of the cover for a lenticular, and I didn't want to double-dip with fun promo materials. So it goes!

The composition was off, since this was based on a comics page with, y'know, dialog and other panels on it. We talked about whether adding some kind of a text treatment might help balance it out, but ultimately,

[narrator: she would later regret this.]

ANYWAY, once I was all-in, it was time to get goin! First, I made a small color thumbnail, then scaled it WAY up for print and took it back to pencils to space out the trio & give everyone a little more room.

Next I inked and flatted it! Flatting is the only time I can really zone out & watch something while I work, it was a nice break.

Then I blocked in big hue shifts for the ground and sky; painted big shadow shapes, and drew in the text; and finally added some details like bounce light and atmospheric perspective blue shifts.

One final touch-up pass with some additional cool tones-- If I were to do this again, I might tone it down a LITTLE bit on the reflections on Magnus's gear… but then again, it looks cool, so I might not.

And there it is!

Next time I do this, I want to try to keep the initial color thumbnail much looser- I got frustrated at the rendering stage because I'd done most of the fun work of thinking about color already, and ended up feeling like I was treading the same ground twice. It's tough to find a balance between enough planning to be ready and not so much that I lose something in the work!

I'm always happy to get process questions over on patreon, it's fun to talk more about this sort of thing!

#thezonecast #taz balance #tazgn #process #taz #long post

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herebecritters · 9 months

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Welcome to my HTF blog, I have lore and gore all for you to enjoy.

What’s goin on here?

Well I make a Happy Tree Friends Au called Be Brave that delves into why htf is the way it is. Why is everyone dying all the time? Why won’t they stay dead? Why do I love laughing at their misery? What’s up with those weird little stone idols?

Well wonder no more…unless you have your own headcanons. That’s fine too. But if you’re hankering to hear my take, here’s a quick disclaimer and some convenient links to make navigating this blog a wee bit easier.

DISCLAIMER

This story and this blog is NOT intended for a child audience. There will be violence. There will be gore. There will be foul language. There will be sexual humor and adult jokes and topics. Consume at your own risk.

Ocs will play active and important roles in this story. This includes many of my friends ocs. If this is a problem then oopsie poopsie, aw well. Cry me a river.

Shipping is a thing. FlippyXFlaky is my main canon ship and it will be explored in this story. As well as a bunch of oc ships. A few other canon ships may be mentioned or shown as well. If any of this is also a problem then too bad, too sad.

Harassment is not tolerated. I am not afraid to block. I’m old and tired and I give no fucks. The real world is already enough of a stressful nightmare, and Auntie Critters needs their wine and story time to unwind. Just don’t be a dick. It’s as simple as that.

Be patient! Again, I am doing this for fun. But I want to be able to share that fun as well cus I really love the stuff I’ve been cooking for this. However, making content to convey all these ideas I have to an audience is a LOT of work. And I am doing this on my free time. So do not expect there to be a set schedule and understand that I am unfortunately a slave to the whims of my hyperfixations. But I will do my very best to deliver all these stories to you 😤

Now onto the fun stuff…

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Quick links!

Origins of a curse series:

* Dino-Sore Days Lore

* The First Civilization (coming soon)

* The 300 Year Colony (Coming Soon)

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Be Brave: An comedic adventure comic with notes of horror and existentialism sprinkled throughout. Follow Flaky as they are roped into saving the Isles and everyone trapped on them from an ancient and evil curse.

*To start reading the Be Brave comic, click here

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