#me? posting a prompt on time? unheard of.

[latibvles]

keep me pretty.

another prompt fill for the bomber girls — using kinship from the prompt list, here's something that takes place during episode one, before the girls make their appearance at Bucky's little send-off before he heads over to England, featuring the baby of the group: one Carrie Hughes :)

—

For the first time in a long time, the barracks is quiet.

And rarely was it ever quiet, especially on a Friday night. Not when there was a bar to go to and enough reasons to celebrate: this time, their Air Executive was crossing the pond, and soon, they’d be doing that too. Greenland, and then Europe — the idea of actually seeing combat suddenly seemed less slim then it once had. They’re all dressed for it too, in their Class As, jackets cast to the side for the moment but soon to be donned with their silver wings and respective insignias. Still, the barracks is quiet and June Cielinski is sitting on her footlocker and staring at the door, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.

“This is stupid,” Carrie declares impulsively, the first to break up this tentative quiet. A couple eyes land on her, June’s included, and the latter rolls her eyes.

“You’re more than welcome to head out on your own, Hughes.” Carrie puffs out her cheeks, breaking away from June’s piercing stare to divert her attention towards Harrie’s empty cot.

“Then I’d just be stuck waiting for the bus forever,” she points out in a smaller voice. It’s a flimsy excuse, which is really just code for I don’t want to go alone. No one faults her for it, but it does elicit a handful of laughs from some of the older girls. Through her periphery, she watches June toss her straw-colored hair over her shoulder and lets out a quiet sigh of relief, knowing she’s evaded a round of the bombardier’s relentless teasing, if only for a moment.

It was a piece of advice they carried with them from Des Moines. They didn’t go anywhere alone. It was safer that way, going in groups or pairs, having the extra set of eyes and hands to help avoid the trouble on base. So no, Carrie wasn’t going to wait at the station by herself and no, June didn’t actually want her to anyway. They didn’t have to say that part out loud to know it.

One day, maybe they’d laugh at their current dramatics — but right now it all felt very life-or-death, do-or-die.

No one really thought June was going to go through with it. She delivered the idea (or was it a threat?) with the same fire that she did most of her retaliatory statements. It seemed silly then, but now at least half their crew feels a little foolish for thinking it wasn’t possible for her to actually see it through.

Carrie especially, couldn’t help but think it was crazy for someone with hair as shiny and golden as June’s to cut it all off, whether if it was in retaliation or for practical reasons. Keep it off the collar, sure, they had a million different ways to do that — wrangling their hair into rolls and buns and braids had been a part of civilian life that they’d carried with them from Des Moines to Utah, Nebraska to California. Cutting it all off was extreme. More permanent. Sure, it would grow back eventually, but until it did she’d be stuck with whatever awkward phases that could arise from hacking off all that length.

Hell hath no fury like a girl who didn’t want to be on magazine covers, apparently.

Harrie opens up the door and returns to the crew, something shiny in her hands and June’s typical sour expression melts away for something more gracious.

“Got ‘em! Here y’go, Juney,” she announces happily, handing over the clippers and a comb. “Blakely said I could just give ‘em back tomorrow.” And June nods, rummaging through her footlocker until she pulls out a small mirror and offers it up to Fern, who holds it in front of her so she could better see what she’s doing.

“Don’t cut your ear,” Carrie offers in a soft voice, and June snorts.

“Well there goes my bright idea.” But Carrie can’t help but hold her breath a bit as June brings the clippers to her own head, and there’s a heavy silence broken up only by the soft snip snip snip as pieces of June’s hair fall to the floor of the hut, like golden thread being cut from it’s spinning wheel. She uses her fingers as a guide — and while anyone outside of this hut would assume June would just hack away at herself with reckless abandon, there’s a meticulousness to the way she works. Slow and steady.

“Did you work at a salon or something, June?” Josephine asks from her own spot, curious as she watches.

“No, but my mom used to cut all our hair to save us money instead of going to a barber. Then I cut a bald spot into my hair when I was seven and she started teaching me so I wouldn’t do that again,” June pauses, giving every girl in the hut a narrow-eyed look. “...That story doesn’t leave this hut.”

The tension breaks, a small round of laughter before they lapse into side conversations, Josephine makes a promise to let Fern take powder to her face if they ever go out in England. Carrie watches, quiet, while Harrie starts talking about the state of the Nissen hut she’d just ventured into as though it was as foreign of a place as the Pacific Islands. Lorraine, who’d been watching June’s process with a quiet interest, clears her throat as she approaches.

“Could you do me next?” Straight to the point, June pauses, looks up, then nods.

“If you can tell me how the back of this thing is looking, sure.” Lorraine leans over to take a look at the back of June’s head, stares with discerning, narrowed dark eyes, before her thumb pops up and she gives an approving nod.

“No bald spots.” There’s a ghost of a smile playing at Lorraine’s lips, before she takes the seat behind June on her rack to watch. Harrie was half-leaning on Carrie by this point — enthralling her with some tale about how Brock from Just-A-Snappin had been spraying himself in cologne like his life dpeended on it, and the idea of the whole hut stinking of Old Spice has Carrie laughing to herself quietly. Still Harrie perks up upon hearing June and Lorraine’s conversation, tilting her head to one side like a curious puppy.

“You’re givin’ ‘em out, now?” She asks, almost hopeful. By now, June’s hair is effectively off her shoulders, an uneven yellow shag brushing against her jaw. She dusts off her shoulders haphazardly, content for now, and gives a bit of a shrug.

“That’s what it looks like.” Harrie presses her lips into a contemplative line, tugging at one of her light brown braids as she seemingly weighs the pros and cons, then she speaks up again.

“Y’know, one o’ ma’ pals back home says t’me that hair could get snagged on one o’ them engines if y’ain’t careful,” Harrie admits with a slight shrug. “Don’t know how true that is, but uh…”

“Better safe than sorry?” Inez, from her quiet corner of the Nissen hut finishes the thought. Harrie smiles, appreciatively, and nods in agreement.

“Uh huh. ‘Sides, I think I’d look ‘real cute with a little crop. Do me too.”

“Didn’t realize I was running a salon out of here,” June drawls, half sarcastic as she looks around. “Anybody else? Should I make you all line up? Set up a waiting room?” The other four exchange looks. Then Fern gets that grin on her face: half scheming, half earnest, as she rises only momentarily and makes her way over to Josephine.

“Josie would look great with a little bob, don’t you think?” she remarks, and they know she’s being genuine from the way she starts fussing with Josephine’s hair. The dark-haired girl makes a squeak of surprise, and then her face seems to flush in that modest sort of embarrassment. “And I need my ends cut anyway. Might as well go all the way.” Fern immediately starts taking the pins out that had held her hair in its neat bun.

June looks over at Lena, who shrugs.

“Everybody stares either way. Might as well give them something to look at.” And June then looks to Carrie on one end, Inez on the other, cocks an inquisitive brow.

“Carrie? Inez? Y’in or out?” Carrie, feeling silly, looks over to the Second Lieutenant in the corner of the Hut. It was easy to forget that Inez was four years her senior — they both had a quiet flightiness about them. And like Carrie, Inez seemed to flush under teasing as opposed to fire back or take it on the chin. She gives Carrie a smile, something small and encouraging, then turns to look at June.

“Why the hell not, make sure I’m still pretty at the end of it.” Inez offers, a joke that’s stiff but they laugh all the same. June rolls her eyes lightheartedly, then looks at Carrie.

Carrie simply nods, and she knows it’s enough, because June returns it and then sits Lorraine on her footlocker with a firm order not to move too much. She volunteers the thin sheet on top of her cot to use to keep hair off their uniforms, and goes to work on Lorraine’s pale colored hair with a steady hand and a careful eye.

Now, as opposed to quiet, their hut is busy with girls debilitating over length, how much to cut. For some it’s a big thing: Fern smiles like she’s running on adrenaline as June clips away at perfectly curled auburn locks. For Harrie, its two quick snips to both braids before June goes to make it shorter still, and Harrie voices sending the severed braids to her mother with a picture of her, the next time they get their hands on a camera. Carrie decides if she’s going to do it, might as well go all the way — and although June’s face is unreadable, she gives the girl a gentle squeeze to her shoulder. She’s going last — and after six other haircuts, she’s fairly certain she can trust June to keep her looking pretty.

The door opens though, and all their heads snap to it curiously.

Captain Savorre has simply poked her head in — it reminds Carrie of something her mom would do, a “just checking on you” posed on her tongue. It’s not that though, because their Captain opens up the door fully, does a sweeping motion as Neumann steps in. Savorre lets out a low whistle.

“Was just coming to see if there were any stragglers. Didn’t realize we were all planning on being fashionably late,” she jests, taking in the varying fresh bobs and crops that now dotted the rest of the crew. “Did I miss a meeting, or something?” She fixes her gaze on Carrie, sits on the footlocker, and June, with a piece of her hair that she’d just cut in her hands. Carrie feels her face flush pink, but she clears her throat nonetheless.

“June was cutting her hair and… and we wanted in, I guess,” she can’t help but feel small — being the last one to want to do it. Lena’s idea to give them something to stare at echoes in her head, but she knows those words wouldn’t sound right on her tongue. She could do without the staring, honestly, hadn’t been used to it when they arrived in Utah and still wasn’t used to it now. But there was something… freeing about it. Like shedding old skin and letting something fresh and new breathe. “Like a sendoff, I guess.”

“A sendoff, she says,” And it’s not mocking, the way Savorre says it, but rather with intrigue, looking over to Neumann. “Well I’d hate to be the odd woman out. What’d you think, Willie?” Carrie thinks that they might all be holding their breath now. If Neumann thought something was dumb, then she’d call it dumb.

She doesn’t do that; instead, Neumann’s face cracks into a small smile.

“There’ll be a lot less to do in the mornings.” Savorre smiles at that, then looks back to June with a nod.

“Right then, do me after Hughes, June,” and their pilot takes a seat on her own cot, shedding the jacket, and the anxiety in Carrie begins to settle as June goes back to snip-snip-snipping at her hair.

#hboww2rewatch #*poet writes #ch: carrie hughes #I think about this a lot #my lovely girls #me? posting a prompt on time? unheard of.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Heyy could you maybe do the verbal fight with bucky from the bingo thing if it isn’t finished yet? love what you write btw <3

Thank you! Also to everyone that helped with their amazing ideas. I couldn’t decide which one to write... I will definitely take another prompt from this post (you can view it as a WIP list lmao)

I had to go with the most detailed one this time because my head is literally blank. Thank you @winterarmyy 💕

Verbal Fight (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

BuckyBarnes x Reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: fluff, misunderstandings, and Bucky’s sad internal monologue

Bucky’s eyes jolted open when Natasha and you laughed on the sofa next to him. He had been up for 36 hours now. But he wanted to spend time with his girl after the mission - a mission which left him with little to no sleep on top of physical exhaustion. 

His arm was resting on the couch behind you, fingers grazing your shoulder ever so slightly. It was enough to send him into a drowsy state. But as much as whatever he was doing right now neared sleep more than anything had done in the past day, he needed to go to bed. Preferably with you, cuddled up under the warm blanket, the smell of your hair in his nose and your soft body pressed into his. Bucky felt all warm just thinking about it and it plastered a small smile on his face.

“I think I'm going to hit the hay,” he said as he stood from the sofa, and waited once he had done so. 

“Ok,” you answered before your eyes wandered to him, an asking eyebrow urging him to talk again. “Anything else?”

His eyebrows raised before his hand reached out to you, a silent plea from him to just take it and follow him. You didn’t always go to bed together, but he liked to believe that you enjoyed it just as much whenever you got the chance to. “Aren’t you gonna join me?”

Your features softened once his request had passed, but you shook your head slightly. “You go ahead, I’ll be right behind ya.” And then you were back to giggling with Natasha. 

Bucky’s smile fell. He just wanted his girl in his arms and finally some sleep. Was that so too much to ask? But he didn’t want to sound desperate either. 

“Geez, clingy much Barnes?” Nat laughed before you agreed with a giggly “I know, right?” And then started whispering something with her. 

Bucky’s shoulders slumped, his heart seemingly doing the same. He just liked being with you. Especially after a mission or when he didn’t get to talk to you much. Was that clingy? Bucky thought it was normal to miss the people he cared about. You always told him you missed him when either of you was away. But apparently, he was a little too much. You had spent the entire evening together after all. 

A hoarse ‘okay’ drowned in the giggles in front of him before Bucky turned and headed to his room. How could he not have noticed that he trapped you with his presence? How long had you felt that way? All the questions were eating Bucky up inside. He couldn’t not bother, but he was hoping that his exhaustion would take care of it for now - let him sleep and forget about his racing mind. 

-❁-

Unfortunately, Bucky’s wishes remained unheard. He wasn’t sleeping. It had been 43 minutes since he tried. He knew, because every time he opened his eyes in hopes of having dreamt his newest dilemma, the watch hand of the clock on his nightstand had barely moved.

He was constantly bothered by the ways he could change his behavior. The last thing he wanted was to annoy you. But it was hard. He enjoyed your presence so much. It was new for him to feel this attached to a person, and because it felt so nice for a change, he pursued it in all the ways he could. 

It was about time it came to bite him in the ass now. Because in his experience, good things never lasted long, not for Bucky anyway. Hell, he was surprised the last four months of your relationship had gone so well. He was bound to mess up - it was in his nature...

The door to his room opened, but Bucky stayed in his position on the bed. His back turned to you, and his face pressed into the pillow frustratedly, we waited for you to just get ready and sleep. He told himself it was so he could be alone with his thoughts again, when really, he just didn’t know what to do - he needed to give you space.

Though Bucky should have known, you weren’t one to ignore an issue - and you always knew when there was one. 

The bed dipped but he didn’t move. Your hand reached out to him but he didn’t move. You attempted to turn him to you and he shook your hand off. 

“What’s wrong, Buck?” No response. It would only make it worse. 

“Come on, talk to me.” You touched his arm again and Bucky finally sat up and turned to you, eyebrows scrunched, breaths heavy. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” There was no way to navigate this. Even if Bucky were able to steer this conversation toward the revelatory outcome he wanted, he had no clue how to do it. It was better to just get space - give you space. 

But you wouldn’t budge. You scooched closer to him on the bed, halting when Bucky flinched back. When he caught your eyes then, he found hurt and confusion turning your features. It made his chest sting, his hand clammy.

“You were fine just then. What happened?” Another attempt to reach out to him but he reacted the same. You averted your eyes, picking on the covers. “You know you can tell me anything right? I’m here if you need me-“

“Well, I don’t need you.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue. But how else could he tell you that he was anything but clingy? 

“You don’t mean that.”

“How would you know what I mean?!” He snapped, his effort to stay calm breaking like a dried stick between his fingers. “I feel like I don’t even know you! You don’t even want to spend time with me.”

But he didn’t miss the fire light up in your eyes at his last words and it sent a shiver through him. “Well, it’s hard when you pull yourself out of every social interaction to ever exist!” You moved away from him and he felt a pull at his heart. 

“Maybe I wouldn’t do it if you would actually pay attention to me for once!” Bucky didn’t know where that came from. There was frustration and confusion, and hurt all mixing in his brain, making it hard to distinguish intrusive from rational thoughts.

“Oh, so this is my fault?” You huffed.

“Or maybe I’m just fucking broken. Is that what you’re trying to say?! In this case, I don’t even know why you keep up with me.”

“Buck-”

“If I’m so broken why don’t you just get back to having fun with everyone else on the team and just leave me be? That’s what you do best, right? Be social! Show me how it’s done because I can’t do it. Ever!” Bucky caught a tear falling from your cheek. No. Nonono. This had not been his intention. Shit.

The room fell silent and Bucky took a deep breath. He was just angry at himself. Angry that he was incapable of connecting with people. Angry that he upset you by being clingy once he found the one person he could attach himself to.

“Alright stop it!” Another tear spilled from your eyes but something inside him was still not finished.

“Why? Is it making you uncomfortable to hear the truth?” He hadn’t intended to say it, but his mouth just opened and did. Stupid fucking mouth.

“Bucky!” He flinched once you raised your voice. You had never done it at him. Neither of you had ever fought with each other in fact. “Where the hell is this coming from?” Now your tone was softer and Bucky could feel his heart pumping blood through his body again. Yeah... where the hell was this coming from?

Bucky fumbled with the blanket. He didn’t even notice he was crying until a fat hot tear landed on the covers. He felt you shuffle closer again, relieved that he hadn’t scared you off entirely.

“Do you really think you’re broken?” You spoke so carefully, as if he were to break at any second. And honestly, that might have happened.

“It feels that way too often for it not to be true..,” he whispered ashamed. 

“Baby,” You reached out again and this time, he allowed it, needing your touch more than ever before. You pulled him into your chest, your arms encasing him as he slumped against your frame - finally exhaling, relaxing, and falling into your embrace. “Everyone feels like this from time to time. You don’t have to always be happy and confident to be normal or okay.”

Your soothing voice traveled through his exhausted haze, tears still falling from his eyes. "But it feels like I get stuck in my sorrow.”

“That is normal. I have those days, too. Nat has them, Steve does too.”

Bucky moved to look up at you, a silent request for confirmation in his stare, but this time, he felt, you understood. You probably always had.

“It’s true, babe.” Your body rocked softly and it soothed Bucky further into your soft chest. He felt the tension draining from his body, the sleeplessness replacing it in every inch of him.

“Please, talk to me when you feel like this again. I can help you. I want to help you.”

“Thank you.” He smiled weakly. How could he have ever thought you would neglect him? It was stupid, just as stupid as that attempt of his to give you more space.

“Not for this, Bucky.” You kissed his forehead, ultimately lulling Bucky into his well-deserved sleep - with a calm mind, and the promise to never let his insecurities get the better of him again. 

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[eleanore-delphinium]

My Mate

DamiRae Week 2023

[ Fantasy, Book Inspired, Exploring Each Other’s Bodies / Intimate ]

DISCLAIMER: Contains Mature Content, Sexual Themes (but not the most graphic that I wrote, and yes lemon)

[ Small Author Rant ]

This was not part of my plans. I initially wanted to post for After Flashpoint continuing the Familiarity AU, Fairytale which is Maleficent inspired which I have had the idea for, since I joined the fandom, and God's AU wherein it's Greek God related... But I was time constrained.

The Gods I have written quite a bit already and I thought I'd make it...but nope time was not enough.

Then I got obsessed with reading about werewolves and mates... And greatly unsatisfied with what I've read. And this idea came up and I thought it would be short... But here I am 8k words later.

I didn't think much about this fic and it wasn't planned much like most of my work. So if anyone has questions please feel free to ask, I'd like to explore this possibility. I think it has potential.

And when preparing this post (yes, it’s scheduled, I'm away on a trip thus the time constraint), I realized that this fic actually hits most of the prompts unknowingly. So, I'm posting it on the 6th day.

Even though I didn’t plan this fic that much or prepared it, I hope it was enjoyable. Low-key made me want to have a sad sad fic when I was proofreading.

Anyways, enjoy AND PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!! 

~.~.~.~.~

In a forest, there was a black wolf curled up in front of a big boulder. It was whimpering in pain and eyes were closed. 

Loud howls echoed through the forest and the wolf’s eyes fluttered open, revealing violet irises. It struggled to stand but ultimately fell. 

Three wolves came from the trees opposite it. They were bigger than the weakened wolf. The three observe the cornered thing, who looked resigned to their fate. They gave it a low growl and slowly approached the violet eyed-wolf.

Suddenly, an even bigger wolf jumped from the top of the boulder behind the unconscious wolf and bounced off the boulder to land between the sole wolf and the three other wolves who were actually of average wolf size. Its growl was threatening and made the other three wolves whimper. 

There was a standoff for a moment and then the newcomer barked so loudly that its bark was probably heard throughout the forest. The wolves that were no longer the predator fled as fast as their paws could take them. 

The newcomer growled slowly at where the three fled, then his green eyes softened and turned to the small wolf behind him. And it was clear that this wolf was a male, the strength and dominance he showed was no longer there. It was replaced by whimpering, his tail drooped behind him. 

He was sniffing the air a little. The wolf before him was female.

‘Mate…’ A disembodied male voice whimpered. The wolf’s green eyes locked on the smaller black wolf. He realized that the wolf’s fur that he was looking at, looked a little bit purple under the sunlight from the canopy of leaves above them.

‘Mate…’ The bigger wolf froze before the female, fear struck him. He nudged her and called for his Mate. He noticed her inhale deeply at the touch and he calmed.

‘Mate.’ It claimed taking the smaller creature by her neck.

~.~.~.~.~

The small black wolf was curled up on top of a bed with white sheets. The room was rather bright and the color was mostly white with some black, green, and gold here and there. 

A tan man was in the room observing the curled-up wolf. He wore black pants, his chest and feet bare. He approached the whimpering wolf with bandages around its body. His green eyes studied the wolf on his bed, the same eyes that the big wolf in the forest had.

“Mate…” He mumbled, gently brushing her black-purple fur. “I am here…”

She was still unconscious for a week. 

And the man had grown anxious.

“Why is she not yet awake! Why has she not shifted into her human form!” He was yelling at his doctors that flinched at their master’s harsh tone.

It was not unheard of that some Mates were actually animals. And if his Mate was the same, does he kill her or keep her as a companion like what others in the same predicament do and then mate with someone else. At this point, his doctors weren’t even sure if she was a werewolf.

“Alpha Damian…” One of the three doctors in the room weakly called the tan man.

His green eyes glared at the doctor, “What?”

“She is getting better, let us not assume the worst…” The doctor finished and everyone in the room could tell that the Alpha was so close to ripping them all apart.

The wolf on the bed whimpered and his head snapped toward her. “Out! All of you!” He yelled and they all scrambled as he calmly walked to his bed and sat on it, patting his mate.

“I have longed for you for so long, please let me meet you.” He whispered, nuzzling his face to the wolf’s neck as it seemed to calm down from whatever nightmare she was having. 

It’s been weeks and she seemed stable but was still in wolf form. Damian’s anger became more quiet in the time that passed, but it brought everyone more stress than his outright barking.

His back was turned to the bed, he wore black pants, and he was barefooted, but had a white loose shirt on. He was getting convinced that his Mate was indeed a wolf and not like him who could shift.

He sighed, brushing both hands through his black hair. 

“Who are you?” The sweetest female voice echoed through his bedroom and he held his breath as he turned to face his bed.

There on his bed, atop his white sheets, was a pale-skinned woman, with long black hair cascading on his sheets, her eyes were violet. He didn’t think he’d gaze at such beautiful eyes.

Heck, he didn’t think he’d gaze at such a beauty, her nakedness he could not fully ignore too. 

She was beautiful.

And he was drawn to her, and as such, his feet found their way to her side. His calloused fingers brushed her waist, and his other hand rested on her shoulder.

Her violet eyes gazing at him, he kneels on the bed to bring his face closer to hers. 

“My Mate…” His eyes only saw her, his nose against her neck.

~.~.~.~.~.~

He was so happy to know her name, to have met her. He waited for so long.

“Raven.” He called to his Mate that was on the bed wearing one of his shirts, reading a book, her back against a stack of pillows. 

“Damian.” She greeted her Mate, looking up from the book. For a moment, his eyes brushed her long and bare legs. 

He sat on the space beside her and brushed his fingers on her face. He always looked forward to seeing her, even when it was for a few minutes.

Raven placed her book to the side, and soon her Mate’s lips were against the skin of her neck. His hands were roaming over her body and she quietly brushed his black hair. 

He had not marked her yet, but he could not control wanting to be this close to her, and she never pushed him back. And never made a move on him either.

She had been awake for a couple of weeks, but because she was still recovering, she remained in his bedroom. And in this space, he got to know her very well. 

She was calm, rational, and kind. Her eyes would appear to be the wisest he has seen whenever she gazed at him.

And he loved her so dearly. Admittedly, rather obsessively. Perhaps it was just their nature as wolves. 

And yet, as he placed wet kisses against her skin, she showed no hint of any possessiveness in the way he was displaying.

~.~.~.~.~.~

His Mate was wearing a white silk crop top with matching shorts, peacefully sleeping. And as he approached her, the smell that was coming off of her was getting stronger.

His eyes turned black and when he blinked, his green eyes returned but it glowed with a yellow glow around his green irises. 

He placed his hands on her hips and this startled Raven awake. He was over her legs and he leaned forward and so she parted her knees for him. He pulled down the garter of her shorts a little lower and his tongue made contact with the space just above where her pubic hair would have started growing.

Damian was just licking her there, sometimes his nose brushing her skin. He didn’t notice her biting her lips from the contact. 

“My future pups…” She heard him mumble and she blinked. “You’re ovulating, my Mate, is ovulating…” 

She noticed how the veins on his arms were bulging.

“My future pups,” Damian said, glancing at his Mate who was looking at him now. He was clearly fighting himself from something. He was breathing heavily.

The silence helped him gain back control from the animal within him, “I’m sorry.”  He pulled away, but he was clearly shaking, he was in pain. “I can’t help it.”

“I know.” She said, fingers extended to touch him, but he pulled away and shook his head.

“No, you don’t.” He whispered he looked so guilty and ashamed. “Normal wolves wouldn’t act like me.” His eyes glanced at her for a moment, then quickly looked away.

He covered his face with his hands, “You don’t understand, I want to keep you all to myself. The thought of anyone else laying even just their eyes on you drives me mad!” He growled and then breathed deeply. He took a peek at her from between his fingers, “I don’t want to justify my thoughts… but your mate is imperfect… no one would want me…”

“I don’t–” She tried to reach for him again but he pulled away. The look on his face made her freeze.

“You don’t get it.” He quietly said he looked so weak and from the short time they met, this wasn’t how she saw him. “My family… they wanted a better and stronger wolf, and so they did– they altered me to become what they want.” There was understanding in his Mate’s eyes. 

“It’s why I am so much bigger in my wolf form.” He added even more quietly than he expected. “As if the Moon Goddess was angered by this alteration– I…” He paused, closing his eyes and looking down, looking so ashamed. “I’m more obsessive and possessive than normal wolves. I try so hard to control myself. I’m imperfect– an abomination.”

Soft hands touched his arm and he looked up with clear shock on his face and his Mate was nothing but calm.

“I’m sure you have noticed.” He looked at her in confusion and she faintly smiled and added, “Why am I so small in wolf form.” He perked up. “I’m half-witch.”

He blinked at the revelation and it made sense. 

“So, I guess imperfect meets imperfect– and so we become a whole?” Her words made him feel like he could breathe properly as if his sinuses were cleared after breathing from one nostril for a little too long. “So, we are a perfect match, my Mate.”

He held his breath for a moment at her calling him Mate and she continued to talk, “ The Moon Goddess has not forsaken us.”

He smiled weakly at her, so enthralled by her presence.

“But why have you not marked me yet?” She quietly asked, breaking his quiet admiration for his Mate.

Damian looked away, “You didn’t seem interested to be my Mate…”

Raven shifted on the bed, “What? No!” Her tone was pouty.

She cleared her throat, “It’s not like that. I could tell that you were controlling yourself. I didn’t want you to feel bad or guilty, so I concealed my desire.”

He stared at her and he looked relieved, then suddenly frowned, “But I don’t want to hurt you.” He was looking away from her. “I know I won’t be able to control myself if we do it. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then hurt me.” She said and he looked at her with wide eyes. Her hand slipped down to hold his, and as she settled back to the spot she laid, she tugged him a little, bringing her closer to him. Her legs spread before him, feet on either side of him as she adds, “Hurt me. And Mark me.”

Damian stilled and breathed deeply like he was suddenly attacked. He was suddenly hit by her desire and scent. His lips part about to say something but he was cut off.

“Please, Mark me.” His Mate’s plea drove him to the edge. His eyes went from green to pure black and then his irises returned but they weren't green, instead it was yellow. All he could smell was the sudden release of desire– arousal, her scent of lavenders, and all laced with the fact that his mate was ovulating. 

Damian growled and it was clear that he was no longer in control. He ripped her shorts along with her underwear, leaving her bare for him. And oh, how bare she was. He brought his nose closer to her vagina and he was tilting his head a little and sniffing, and Raven was left to hold her breath in anticipation.

He could smell her begging for him even more. His tongue stuck out of his mouth and he started licking her folds. Her legs were over his shoulder, but she kept her feet planted on the bed.

He was going to claim her while the sun was still up and it hadn’t even reached mid-day. Everyone would surely know what he was doing. One of his hands pressed against where he was licking her a few minutes ago, just beside her hip bone.

“Beautiful…” He mumbled and then bared his teeth tugging at her vulva gently. “Mine.” He growled and then sucked the skin between her legs.

And he did that for a while, his mind intoxicated with her scent. His mouth filled with her taste.

Raven’s pale fingers found their way to his black hair and he glanced up. She knew that he was no longer in control. His eyes were yellow.

“Beautiful.” He claimed again locking eyes with her, giving her vulva a sloppy kiss while he was at it. His eyes never left her. And he noted how his Mate gulped. “Mine.” He said again, this time crawling to her. 

He cupped her face, “Mine.”

“Yes. I am.” She answered back shyly and she saw how his eyes were reflecting nothing but the animal inside and her.

He growled again, “Mine.” And went for her neck, first licking then his teeth grazing her skin.

Damian wasn’t gentle at all, it was clear that he wasn’t himself anymore, and that it was the animal in him in control. But Raven didn’t mind, it just showed just how much her Mate wanted her.

His fingers were finally done toying with her wet cunt after he made her orgasm at least a couple of times. Whilst his lips ravaged every part of her body.

He brought his wet fingers to his nose, “Ovulating…” He mumbled as if he just found out and there was an emotion that flashed in his eyes. 

He hissed, arms pulling her legs back to be on her sides. “Ovulating.” He licked his fingers that were wet with her juices and her face flushed a reddish hue.  

Raven was still anticipating the marking, he was biding his time to mark her and it was driving her mad. Then she felt it, a thickness and firmness against her wet cunt.

He studied her, tilting his head a little like a curious animal, his eyes still yellow. “Mine.” He bends forward to whisper to her ear and before she could reply she felt him enter her. 

Her eyes rolled back, her chest raised.

He smelled it, blood. “Virgin.” The simple word was dragged out and his eyes narrowed at her.

She thought that something had already long snapped from her Mate the moment he smelled her ovulating and begging to be marked. But the way he narrowed his eyes at her at this moment was something else.

She gulped.

Then his hips started ramming her. His touches felt even more animalistic. And with his pounding, she came closer to the peak and she could tell that he was in the same boat as her because his scent was overwhelming.

He tugged at her face, making her look at him, “Keep your eyes on me.” He growled and so she followed his order.

He could feel it, his close release and his Mate’s, and he was timing it perfectly. And when he knew they were at the cusp of release, his canines grew and he bit her shoulder just as they reached climax.

And Raven’s eyes widened. 

Just when she thought that what she was feeling was the climax she was waiting for, the venom from his marking said otherwise.

Raven passed out from the intensity, but her Mate was not yet done. His mind was still trapped in the desire for his Mate.

Raven would wake, in different positions, being tossed and turned by her Mate who was relentless, then would pass out. She wasn’t angry with him, it was just how their animal sides were.

The need to mate and produce. 

When Damian came to, one hand was on the lower back of a voluptuous ass sticking out to him. His breathing was shallow, as he tried to understand where he was and who he was with. He pulled his dick out from the tight cunt he was certain he was pounding. 

He knew that he had just released himself into her tight pussy.

He was disoriented and vaguely recalled that he was with Raven, his Mate this morning, but it was clear that the sun had set a long time ago. His fingers brushed the skin just above her butt and then unconsciously touched the stray white fluid back to her gaping hole.

He felt like his body wasn’t his, and that is when the scent of his Mate filled his nose. He blinked and glanced at the pale body before him. 

This was his Mate. Raven. And she had so many bruises, hickeys, and bites on her body.

He wanted to vomit. His mind could see images of what he had been doing to his Mate– even when she was passed out. 

He really wanted to vomit. 

He was a monster.

Damian was shaking as he pulled away and attempted to flee, but a weak hand wrapped around his wrist. And he froze.

His eyes were back to green as he stared at his Mate, her ass still sticking out at him, her cunt dripping from both their juices. But that sight was forgotten when he saw the sadness on her face and he felt her grief from the bond.

“Please, don’t.” She said hoarsely, but her lips were chapped and swollen that his guilt was heavier than her sadness.

Another flash of sadness that wasn’t his came to him, it was from Raven. She didn’t want him to leave her, not after marking her, she felt like he was abandoning her.

“No, it’s not like that.” He quickly explained but her sorrowful gaze pained him.

He knew what she was feeling and he pursed his lips, “I hurt you.” He quietly said, looking away.

And he vaguely heard her voice in his head telling him to stay. He also felt that she didn’t blame him but in fact, felt quite loved, and also knew that if he left, he would truly hurt her.

He studied all the marks of his passionate but sadly one-sided lovemaking on his Mate. He wanted to leave, he should, but he couldn’t hurt her like that. He helped her get a more comfortable sleeping position and somehow her lips found his neck. He felt her contentment.

And he realized that she wasn’t able to mark him.

When Raven woke, her body was extremely sore and it was still night out. Her arms touched the space around her, looking for her Mate. And dread filled her when she realized he wasn’t there. She sat up with eyes wide. 

He left her. 

Her eyes searched the dark room for her Mate. Her Mate who marked her and then just abandoned her. It hurt her ego as a werewolf. 

“Raven!” Damian’s voice roared as he opened the door, a basket in his hand. His green eyes searched for his Mate. He thought something had happened to her.

When she saw him, she instantly struggled to get up from the bed. He closed the door behind him as he quickly walked to her.

“No, don’t.” He begged her, not wanting her to come closer to him in her state. But she met him halfway and stumbled to his chest.

“You left me.” Her eyes were filled with water that threatened to spill and he felt her sorrow. She thought he had abandoned her. 

She-wolves were known to be particularly sensitive after marking, the duration varying from one Mate to another. The knowledge just popped up in Damian’s mind. He didn’t think he’d get a Mate, so these little details were something he didn’t bother with.

It was kind of similar to the human belief that human females grow an attachment to their first sexual partner. But with wolves, especially in their case– that Raven’s first was her Mate, the attachment to her first and only sexual partner was even more extremely heightened. He at least understood this much.

He cupped her face and brushed her cheek with his thumb, this was the first time he saw her with so much emotion on her face. “I’m sorry.” He quietly said, but her eyes were pleading and her chapped lips pouting at him.

“You weren’t able to eat, so I went to get you some things to fill your stomach. I didn’t think you’d wake up. I’m sorry.” He quietly confessed.

He felt her joy from his show of concern and his heart fluttered, or maybe it was hers. Regardless, from where he stood and with the moonlight's help, he could see all the marks he left on her body. What he did to her flashed before his mind. 

He wanted to apologize again, but a small hand against his chest stopped him.

“Please, don’t.” She whispered, eyes pleading again, “If you do, it’s like you're telling me you regret marking me.”

Her emotions felt like a punch on his cheek and so were her words. 

“No!” He hated the thought. He didn’t regret it and she flinched at his sudden outburst. He calmed himself and added, “ It’s not like that.”

He caught himself from apologizing again, he leaned forward pressing his lips against his mark on her shoulder, “Mine.”

He felt her feeling proud and happy with his actions. And he too was pleased. 

Another information entered his mind, some wolf packs do not allow their females to mark their Mates or partners. He wondered for a moment if she came from a pack like that. 

~.~.~.~.~

“Alpha! There are trespassers!” Someone told Damian and he frowned.

“Alpha! The she-wolf is approaching the mansion!” Another yelled as he ran to the mansion just as Damian was rushing out. “The she-wolf refused to talk to us, but she was being chased and was evading us and her attackers.”

Damian frowned, he didn’t have time for this, he had not seen his Mate and could not hear her or feel her.

“She was being chased?” He asked as he glanced up, seeing a familiar small wolf running to them. Even though he couldn’t see from where he was, he just knew that the approaching wolf would have violet eyes.

“She is coming to the Alpha!” Someone said, alerting the others, silently telling them to stop the approaching she-wolf.

Damian ran to said she-wolf and shifted mid-way, and it looked like he was going to trample the poor wolf, but instead, he barked, landing a little behind her. His snarl put a halt to everyone and even the trespassers that he could smell from across the forest where the small wolf came from. 

Everyone stilled and Damian turned to look at the shaking wolf behind him. Her eyes were exactly his Mate’s. He nudged her and she whimpered, he urged her to communicate with their exclusive Mate telepathic connection, but nothing. He even sniffed her. 

He couldn’t smell her or his scent on her. He couldn’t even feel her or hear her.

But those violet eyes were clearly his Mate’s and it was pleading to him.

He recalled how he barely smelled her when he first met her. He was only certain that she was her Mate the moment his eyes laid on her in her human form. 

He growled slowly and the wolf before him blinked. It was undeniable that this was the same wolf he saved from the forest. His Mate.

He grabbed the creature by the neck and snorted at his men. He was disappointed that they could not identify his Mate. But recalling that even he could not smell her scent and that no one had seen her shift in her wolf form, he calmed down a little.

The smaller wolf looked pitiful being carried like that by Damian in wolf form. But he padded his way to their bedroom and laid his Mate on the bed.

He shifted into his human form, he wore black pants, it was enchanted to accommodate shifting. 

“Raven, it’s alright, you can shift.” He urged her but the wolf merely whimpered. He was confused. He brushed her black-purple fur and comforted her and she merely nudged his head a little.

Three days passed and she was still in wolf form, “What’s wrong? You can’t shift back? Is it similar to when we first met?” He patted her head and he noticed a tear fall from the she-wolf’s eyes.

Later that evening, when Damian was about to go to the bathroom, he smelled his Mate’s scent and he turned to the bed to see his naked Mate on the bed. Tears in her eyes.

“Damian…” She whispered her arms extended for a hug and he went to her instantly and wrapped her in his arms. “I was stuck.” She mumbled, shaking her head to the nook of his shoulder.

“Why?” He asked her gently and she froze.

Raven suddenly burst into tears and kept apologizing, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Your Mate is selfish, I didn’t– I couldn’t reject you when I met you.”

He inhaled deeply at her last words: reject. She wanted to reject him. The animal inside of him was angry at the thought.

“I didn’t tell you everything, I didn’t give you a choice. I’m sorry.” She sobbed and he felt the misery she was feeling, thus his anger at the thought of being rejected disappeared.

He wanted to understand her, “What do you mean?”

She stilled again on the spot and she held back her tears as she stared at him, “This isn’t common knowledge but when some wolves meet their animal Mates, most times, they really weren’t born as animals.”

Daman furrowed his eyebrows, he tried to recall this information from all the books he had read, and there was no information like this. 

“They were likely half-wolves, who lost the ability to shift into their human forms,” Raven revealed and his eyebrow twitched. 

It makes sense.

“One day– I might not be able to become human.” The tears in her eyes fell again and her dread and his dread merged into one in his body.

After a moment of silence, “No.” He said. “If my mother can find a way to alter me– I’m sure there is a way around that.” His green eyes were determined.

She shook her head, “I shouldn’t have mated with you– we shouldn’t have met. If I was stuck as a wolf, you probably wouldn’t know who I was. And I wouldn’t either.”

“No!” He yelled and Raven stared at him with wide eyes. “I’m not mad at you,” He clarified, calming himself. “I don’t like the thought of not having you.” He buried his face on her shoulder.

“You’re mine.” He softly added.

“You could have mated with someone else, and we wouldn't have known what we could have been.” She added and he growled. “I was selfish, I couldn’t let you go.”

He licked his mark on her, “Then I’m glad that you are.”

Another moment of silence then he recalled something, “Is that why I can’t smell you?”

Raven pushed him gently, looking at him, “I am half-witch, I was hunted down for what I am, as a precaution when I shift I conceal my scent, but… it has become my default so I find it hard to control it.”

He nodded and kissed her forehead, “We’ll find a way around it.” 

“But Damian, if I fall pregnant and shift into a wolf, I will lose our child.” Her eyes twitch as the tears fall. “I don’t want that.”

“I’d rather lose the child.” He said and he felt her heartbreak at his words. She didn’t realize it but she had also held her breath. She believed he didn’t want children with her.

“It’s not like that, Raven. I don’t want to lose you.” He made her look at him by cupping her face. 

But she was not convinced and attempted to be freed from his touch.

“I can’t lose you, my Mate.” He looked in pain frowning at her, “We can choose not to have kids for now until we figure this out. Alright?” 

She was still distraught by his words but she nodded and he embraced her as he comforted her.

“I do want pups with you. I don’t want kids with anyone else.” He reassured her. “If you get stuck as a wolf, then I will live my remaining life as a wolf with you.”

He heard her gasp and felt her heart sink into her stomach, “No.” She said, eyes wide in fear. “No, you can’t.”

With firm hands on her cheeks he said, “Yes, I can.”

~.~.~.~.~

“How certain are you that this information is true?” Talia asked, glancing at her son and then his Mate.

“It is quite known to families who are not pure, and to a certain coven of witches,” Raven replied. “We… Impure wolves were hunted as a sport, so this information is concealed. We have packs or covens dedicated to us. But please, keep this a secret, I’m not supposed to be even telling you this.” She glanced at her Mate. 

Damian knew that it was only recently that half-werewolves were accepted. Of course, there were still some who liked the old ways. But he had never heard of packs of half-wolves and witch covens that help said half-wolven packs.

“But there are still some who treat us as a game.” Raven unconsciously rubbed her arm.

“Is that why you were being chased?” Damian asked, containing his anger, he had always wondered why she was being chased, but he didn’t want to force her to answer him by asking. When she confessed that she was half-witch, he didn't even ask questions.

To him, she was his Mate. That was all that mattered. 

Raven looked uncomfortable with the question and glanced at Talia. And her son frowned at her. He suddenly recalled that his pack used to hunt the impure wolves for sport too.

He growled, “If you hurt her.”

Talia raised her hands up, “She is your Mate, I have no intentions, and anyways, we stopped hunting them halflings down a long time ago. We saw that they offered more benefits as they are– earlier than anyone else did.”

Damian growled, placing himself between his mother and Mate.

“We also believed that maybe we were cursed too…” Raven quipped trying to change the topic and calming her Mate. “There was a way to make sure we don’t get stuck…”

Damian turned to her hopeful, but she avoided his gaze, “If we forsaken our wolves, then we wouldn’t become animals.” Damian did not understand her words and she adds, “You would have thought your Mate died, and if we crossed paths, we wouldn’t have known that we were destined for each other in accordance with the Goddess's will..”

He visibly took a step back, his head shaking. He couldn’t imagine being without her. Maybe it was the animal inside of him or the bond, but she was his. There is no other option for him.

Or maybe it was his imperfection showing. He was obsessed with her.

“I clearly… didn’t…” She mumbled, shaking in fear, when his eyes studied her, he realized what she was feeling.

“We can figure this out,” Damian reassured and turned to his mother, “If you can make me this strong, I am sure you can find something around this.”

He was nothing but determined. 

And Talia smiled, “I do like a compelling experiment.”

~.~.~.~.~.~

Raven was in their bedroom, and she had not seen him for days after having a meeting with his mother. She was very very upset. She was feeling abandoned. 

She decided to step out of the bedroom and walked barefoot to the end of the rather long balcony. She wore her white silk sleepwear made of a crop top and shorts again.

She gazed outside at the vast yard and into the forest from Damian’s huge balcony. She was told that her Mate had been running through the forest since they last saw each other.

She believed he regretted meeting her. She thought about leaving and just when she was about to go over the ledge of the balcony, despite being on the second floor, she heard a growl from behind her.

She turned and there was a very huge black wolf. She froze, one of her legs was over the banister.

The wolf growled as he slowly walked to her. 

‘What are you doing?’ An angry disembodied male voice asked and she recognized it as her Mate’s.

“I–” She couldn’t even say what she was doing and he growled again. “I thought you hated me.” She ultimately answered and the wolf was now before her. His head caressed her neck.

‘You are my Mate.’ His voice was gentle and suddenly before her, stood Damian, with only his black pants on. “Come, let us go back in.” His hands found her hands as he guided her away from the ledge. 

The next moment, she found herself in the center of the bed. She was sitting crossed-legged while he was before her on his knees, mouth caressing her neck.

“Why haven’t you marked me?” He suddenly asked her and she was taken aback. And he felt it.

He pulled away to look at her. She stared at those green eyes.

“I– I wanted it to be special, but…with everything– I don’t–” Her words stopped there because his eyes told her not to continue, she knew he knew what she was about to say. 

That she didn’t deserve him.

“I can hear you and feel you.” His fingers brushed at the side of her face, “I want you to hear me and feel me too.”

She gulped and nodded, “But maybe–”

“I rather not wait.” He cut her off knowing what she was about to say again. He was clearly displeased at her thoughts thinking that she wanted to find a better time and place to do it. 

“Okay.” She whispered, placing a hand over his beating heart. He saw what she wanted to do from the bond and he was anticipating her next moves. 

And Raven acted on it. She pushed him a little, urging him to sit and she straddled him, and he held his breath as she rocked her hips and caressed his neck with her lips. 

Eventually, after all the foreplay, his dick was inside of her with her clothes still on and his pants still around his hips.

He was moaning against her as her canines elongated and she bit him on his neck. He groaned. And as the venom sank in, making him further aroused he could feel her in his mind.

‘Damian.’ He heard her voice whimper inside his mind. And he couldn’t help but growl aloud.

His Mate was asking for more. Of course, he will fulfill her desire. 

She had bitten him higher than he did on her body, she wanted to assert her dominance over other she-wolves. Which he didn’t mind at all. But it honestly made him even more hornier.

~.~.~.~.~

They were in his bedroom, it was late at night. Raven was on the bed naked and on all fours with her nice ass sticking out to him. She was at the edge of the bed and he was behind her ramming her from behind, one hand holding her arm by the wrist and the other caressing her lower back.

Her moaning was endless.

He couldn’t help but sear the image into his mind. Her pale skin, her nice ass sticking out for him. His scarred arms and hands holding her. There was something quite alluring to be able to fuck her this way. 

They were animals by all means– being werewolves. They were.

And yet, to have her in this position in their human forms– there was just something about it that hit him differently.

His green eyes started to have a yellow glow around them.

Raven groaned and shook her head, “Slower…” She mumbled but he chuckled.

He went faster, “You and I know you want it faster.” 

She buried her face against the bed, one hand gripping the sheets and the other gripping his wrist as he held her by the wrist on that arm.

Soon enough the two had reached release again. And he felt it, just as he was pulling out before she even burst into tears. 

His Mate’s sheer sorrow.

He was already picking her up and comforting her as she cried.

“Hey, hey, baby, what’s wrong?” He caressed her leg and he was before her on his knees. All he could feel was her emotions.

“I am your Mate. I am supposed to be giving you strong pups, that is my honor as your Mate.” She sobbed. “But I can’t give you that.”

“Hey, hey, you will. It will just be a little bit longer than we’d thought.” He told her, brushing her tears away.

“We are wolves, it is in our nature to breed a stronger generation– and I can’t give you that. What kind of Mate am I?” She sobbed again.

He felt her strong desire to have his pups– their kids. There was a sense of joy he couldn’t hide and he knew she felt it from the bond. 

She wanted his kids. 

And Raven couldn’t help but stop sobbing as she stared at him. He was proud that she wanted his kids. 

His calmness and stare made her blush.

“I don’t want you to face losing our children because you can’t control your shifting. We’ll work on that and we can fill this damn whole pack house with our kids.” He said firmly.

The image of her having a dozen kids came to his mind, an image from his Mate whose ears were red. 

“No- not that many.” She couldn’t help but mumble and he laughed wholeheartedly. Her thoughts of her having saggy tits and not being attractive to him of course were sent to him through the bond too.

He leaned forward, making her lean backward and unknowingly spreading her legs wider. He whispered, “If anything, you will suck my dick dry.”

His green eyes glanced at her shoulder and it was slightly red in embarrassment. 

Damian pulled away, his green eyes glowing yellow again, realizing the position his Mate was in. Her legs were spread wide before him, his cum slipping out of the tight slit between her legs.

“Well, since it might take time to resolve our small shifting issue,” His index finger swiped his stray cum up back to her hole, “We can continue to practice how to make pups.”

Raven couldn’t help but gulp.

~.~.~.~.~

Damian was able to help Raven shift back into her human form whenever she got stuck. Her marking him had helped immensely. He can at least now smell her and his scent over her and communicate telepathically when she is in wolf form. 

It took time but at least now she didn’t feel alone when she was stuck.

In their bedroom, Raven was leaning against a stack of pillows that were resting on their headboard and Damian’s head was resting below her belly button. One of her pale hands was playing with his black hair as he was gazing at her.

He lifted a hand and placed it beside his head, “One day, I will have pups growing right here.” He rubbed small circles on her skin.

She chuckled, they were now quite comfortable talking about this. Raven was quite certain that she would soon be able to have his pups, so the topic wasn’t that painful to talk about. And if she didn't, she had him. Those green eyes that only knew her.

She brushed his forehead and teased him, “How do you know that there isn’t one already?” 

His eyes widened and lifted his head up as he stared at her lower abdomen, “Did I crush our pup?” 

The sheer concern he felt traveled to her. She smiled faintly. “I would know, do not worry Damian.” He looked at her and she reassured him that she wasn’t with child through their bond and he nodded. He did not look the least disappointed. Instead, he couldn’t help but send an image of him caring for her as her belly grew. 

“I can’t wait to be the mother of your pups.” She said and she felt and smelled his arousal. He knew she could tell that he wanted her. And he knew she wanted to avoid his gaze, but surprisingly she held onto his lustful gaze. “You will be a great father.”

The sun was still out, but here they were making love again.

Everyone in the mansion knew that the Alpha couldn’t keep his hands off of his Mate. 

Everyone has already accepted her, but she was still not part of the mind-link between the pack. 

~.~.~.~.~.~

In their bedroom, Damian was leaning on the headboard with his Mate between his legs, her back resting against his chest and his arms around her waist. 

They were fully clothed. He wore his black pants and a white loose long-sleeved shirt, his hard chest poking out of the deep v on the front of his shirt. His Mate was wearing a white fitted off-shoulder top with tight shorts.

He kissed her shoulder, particularly his mark on her, “I will admit, I really don’t like the thought of other males hearing your voice in their heads.” He was pouting and she laughed, her hands finding his and intertwining their fingers. 

“But they are wondering why I am not part of the mind-link.” She moved her head to rest her forehead against his neck and he groaned.

“But I want your voice to only fill my head.” He whined and he could feel his animal growing possessive and he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

Raven laughed again, “But you and I know it is time and inevitable.” She kissed his jaw and he frowned. His green eyes were surrounded by a yellow glow that slowly faded.

He sighed, “I know.”

~.~.~.~.~.~

In a room full of people in suits and gowns, Damian was across the room, his eyes laying on his Mate who was talking to some other man. He had just arrived and came later than Raven.

His eyes instantly found his Mate. He couldn’t help but growl seeing the sight of his Mate welcoming some other man. He tried to control himself. What really ticked him off to the edge was the scent of her ovulating. It was sudden and she tried to conceal it, but he had smelled it from this distance. Perhaps it was the mating bond.

Raven felt him from across the room and smiled in his direction to comfort him and then brought her attention back to the man she was conversing with. Her smile did not comfort him.

He growled, his eyes glowing yellow. He worked so hard to control himself and he normally can, for the most part, but tonight was not the night.

No one knew she was his yet, and his scent doesn’t stick well on her body, and so did her scent on his body. And it drove him mad. 

He excused himself from the man who was attempting to talk to him. Everyone in the room could feel his growing anger. He stopped at his Mate’s side, his lips against her ear.

“Oh, I think you know my Mate.” Raven smiled at the man across from her, Damian gave the man a side glance, his green eyes had a yellow glow. He kissed her neck.

“My Mate, you know I am the jealous type.” He said with a deep tone. Raven smiled at the man, her fingers finding her Mate’s, silently calming him.

“Then, I must excuse ourselves, sir.” She told the man, smiling faintly, her eyes fluttering at him and Damian couldn’t help the growl that escaped his lips.

Raven quickly ushered her Mate out of the party hall with great elegance and into the dark halls of the castle. When the two were alone he pinned her to a marble baluster.

“You are ovulating.” He growled, his eyes yellow. And she cupped his face.

Her thoughts of wanting to see his green eyes came to his mind. He wished he could, but the animal in him was in control.

“Everyone must have smelled you.” He growled, lifting her up seamlessly onto the banister.

She couldn’t help but giggle, “You know that since we are mated, you are the only one who is this sensitive to my ovulation.” She pulled him into her arms.

He blinked and his green eyes were back, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it, I tried to control myself.” 

“Your self-control is insanely good, my dear Mate.” She reassured him. “I knew the moment we met. And don’t be too hard on yourself, you and I both know that the male wolves can’t help it because as animals, we can’t help but desire to mate and produce. And it is even more intense when it is with your Fated Mate.” 

She suddenly pulled him even closer with her legs that were now wrapped around his waist, “A desire to make your Mate carry your pups.” She whispered in his ear.

And he growled his green eyes emitting a yellow glow yet again.

And her eyes turned blue.

He controlled himself, and placed a firm kiss on his mark on her shoulder, and filled her with his pheromones– his scent. 

She couldn’t help but moan from his aggressiveness– his show of possession. It was natural for the female to long to be marked and be enveloped by her Mate’s being. And it likely didn’t help that she was currently ovulating mid-party, her body begging for his seeds and to produce.

The heat cycle can really drive wolves insane. At least, it did for this couple. 

~.~.~.~.~

Raven was stuck, and she was on their bed in wolf form growling at Damian. Her eyes were blue.

He tried to calm her but she snarled and attempted to claw him.

“Hey, it’s me.” He gently told her. Her eyes reverted back to violet and she rubbed her head against their sheets and calmed. She looked at him with one of her violet eyes pleadingly.

He approached her and brushed her beautiful fur, “It’s okay, remember what I taught you?” 

He could feel her trying to reach him through the bond and could feel her struggling. He buried his face into her fur, letting his pheromones set into her. 

“It’s me,” He coaxed her, “Remember how I taught you.”

The wolf in his arms sounded like she was in pain and eventually, the voice of a struggling woman replaced the wolf sounds.

“Damian.” Raven sobbed, naked as she hugged him and he hugged her back. He stroked her back.

“You know, I really think you should get some enchanted clothes now, so when you are stuck you aren’t stark naked when you return to your human form.” He groped her ass, distracting her for a moment.

She pulled away pouting and he added, “It was shorter this time.” 

She nodded, feeling comforted by her Mate.

~.~.~.~.~.~

Another day, and Raven was stuck in wolf form. They had just finished a really hot session of mating– well practice because his Mate couldn’t have children yet, and Damian had merely stepped out to pee in the bathroom, only to be greeted by his Mate in wolf form.

“Damian, I can’t…” Her voice meekly spoke to him in his mind, since they were now mutually marked he could hear her when she was stuck in her animal form. It was vague at first but now she was louder and clearer. 

He quickly walked to her, her wolf form was close to tears. Midway he shifted and his huge figure circled her, “It’s okay, I am here.” He said, his Mate seems to have merged into his pitch-black fur, but he could identify that hint of purple in her fur.

He knew exactly where she was.

Raven whimpered but cuddled to her Mate.

When Damian woke, he found his Mate in human form, tangled up in his furred body. There was something about keeping her warm like this that tickled his heart.

Her getting stuck has lessened and it comforted both of them. His Mate always avoided shifting for fear of not being able to turn back. 

“I am more witch than wolf…” He recalled her telling him once, her voice close to tears. 

“It doesn’t matter.” He replied.

Damian snuggled himself against his Mate’s pale body, marking her again with his scent which elicited a moan from his Mate. 

He paused, deciding to stop before he triggered her into heat. 

It was so difficult being part man and wolf. His green eyes started to glow yellow and he tried to calm himself.

FIN.

Did I end it abruptly? Even I was thinking that, but like at 8k, this is enough. 

Happy 91st post to me!

#damirae #damirae week 2023 #fantasy AU #book inspired AU #intimate #exploring each other's bodies #robrae #demonbirds #Damian Wayne #Damian al Ghul #raven #raven x damian #Robin x Raven #rachel roth #fanfiction #werewolves #mates #damiraeway #teen titans #damian wayne #romance #damian al ghul #dcamu #eleanore delphinium #timeskips

[star--joy]

Inspire

Vex doesn't understand why Percy keeps giving her arrows, but she's sure there's some ulterior motive to the whole ordeal.

-

Prompt: “You really inspire me.” (creativepromptsforwriting.tumblr.com/post/673924497584291840)

-

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: Arguments

Words: 1644

Originally posted: 8/11/23

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49274167

The first arrow was a simple thing.

Well, that’s not true. The first arrow was complex in construction, delicate and complicated enough that it kept Percy tinkering for weeks. Crafting one that explodes upon impact is no small feat. In that way, it hadn’t been simple at all.

Perhaps a better way to phrase it is this: the first arrow was nothing important.

Yes, Vex was pleased to have such a weapon at her disposal, and yes, she was flattered that Percy spent so much time creating it, but that was it. A small gift between friends.

Except not much time passed before the second arrow was presented to her. Similar to the first, but more fine-tuned, according to Percy.

Well, fine. Vex can handle that. She knows how their gunslinger likes to perfect his inventions, to improve them until they can’t be anymore. That’s what she’d assumed it was. He’d simply wanted to create it for his own benefit.

The third arrow, yet another advancement, was considered the same.

Sometime around the fourth one, however, Vex hears a warning bell sound off in a deep corner of her mind.

“It’s a siege arrow,” Percy explains, ignorant to her sudden caution as he hands her the weapon. “Maybe now we’ll have more luck getting through doors.”

“Indeed,” she hums, testing the feel and weight of it, though her mind is elsewhere. “Thank you, Percy. I have to say, you’ve been spoiling me with all these gifts.”

The unspoken question of why hangs over her head, but apparently, it goes unheard to the gunslinger. He just grins. “Yes, well. I do hope you enjoy them.”

And then, just like that, he’d walks away. Vex watches his retreating form, lip caught between her teeth, before retreating back to her room for a night’s rest. Sleep does not come easy as she ponders the motives of his kindness.

The fifth, sixth, and seventh arrows come and go, each one sparking more confusion in Vex. Barely a week ever goes by without a new creation finding its way into her hands, and a part of her is going mad with it. If he wants something so desperately, why doesn’t he just come out and ask? Percy never struck her as particularly manipulative, at least to his friends, so why the fuck is he desperately trying to suck up to her?

Perhaps he had done something terrible, and this is his way of apologizing. Yet even then, Vex can’t figure out what he might have done to warrant such profuse gifting.

Well, she’s done with it. No more beating around the bush. Steps firm and steady, she finds herself marching down to his workshop, fully intending to put this whole ordeal to an end.

Percy meets her halfway down the stairs, another fucking arrow in his hands. “Oh, Vex, I was just about to come find you,” he says.

Vex looks down at the arrow in his hands, looks up at his proud expression, then grabs him by the collar of his soot-covered work shirt and drags him down into the workshop once more. Percy yelps. “What in the hells—?”

“What are you playing at?” Vex demands, all her careful composure thrown out with the force of her frustration. “What’s the goal here? And don’t lie to me, Percival. I’m not in the mood.”

Slowly, he reaches up to fix his shirt collar from where Vex had snatched it. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. Have I done something?”

“You know what I’m talking about! What do you want? Money, is that it? You want me to be looser with your funds? Fucking— fine! Here,” she snarls, unclipping her personal coin purse and chucking it at his feet. The anger coursing through her is more potent than it’s been in years, boiling her very blood in a way that’s almost alarming. Percy has no right to play her for a fool. Vex thought he’d respected her more than that, but apparently she was wrong, and it fucking hurts.

Percy stares at the coin purse on the ground, mouth open and eyes wide. “Vex, I— are you alright?” He’s stepping closer, arrow still in hand but long-forgotten. 

“I’m fine. Take your money. And next time, just ask. Don’t play these games with me.” Her voice is wavering and she hates it, hates how much she cares.

“What in Pelor’s name are you talking about?!” he asks, sounding so genuinely baffled that it gives her pause. Then, “Vex’ahlia… Vex, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Teeth grinding together, Vex snaps, “The fucking arrows, Percy! I don’t appreciate your bribery.”

Percy looks at her, looks at the arrow in his hand, looks at the coin pouch on the ground. His face twists, but not with guilt or anger. Instead, he just adopts the expression of a kicked puppy, all furrows and pouted lips. “Bribery? That’s what you think I’m doing?”

“You’re denying it?” Vex asks, arms crossing over her chest as if that could shield her from the way his sadness is wringing her heart.

His mouth opens and closes several times. Slowly, he picks up the coin purse and hands it back to her. “I apologise. I hadn’t realised that you— that I was giving that impression.”

Vex twitches. She couldn’t have been wrong. What other reason would he have to be so fucking kind to her? And, Gods above, if she is wrong, then why is he handling it like this? “What impression were you trying to give, then?”

Percy’s hand ruffles through his hair. When he speaks, it’s little more than a murmur. “It’s— I spent a long time creating things out of anger, Vex. Horrible things that I had no right to invent.” It’s clear that each of his words is chosen with a great deal of thought. He won’t look at her.

Stepping forward, Vex lets her hands uncross from her chest and fall to her side. “So, what, is this some kind of penance? Your way of apologizing?”

His jaw flexes. “No. It’s more selfish than that, I’m afraid. I… when I made the things I did, the firearms, I was inspired by rage. When I make arrows for you, it’s different. Rage isn’t my inspiration.”

“What is?” she asks, breath held.

He looks up at her, all gentle and sad. “You are. You really inspire me to create something better. To be something better.”

Oh.

Vex swallows, breaking his gaze to stare at the arrow in his hand. Her heart withers with guilt as the reality of the situation sinks in. Gods, she’d been screaming at him, accusing him of such terrible things, when his whole motivation was that? “I’m— Fuck, I’m such a dick. I’m sorry,” she whispers, burying her face in her hands.

“No, I’m sorry. I should have been more clear with my intentions—”

“Shut up, you did nothing wrong. I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, why I assumed—”

“Nothing is wrong with you, Vex’ahlia,” Percy interjects, voice still quiet, but with a firm, passionate undertone. His footsteps approach, and then his hands are gently pulling hers away from her face, exposing her distressed expression. “Of all people, I understand not knowing what to do with kindness.”

Vex breathes in, inhaling his unique scent of soap and metal. He’s very close, and she feels utterly exposed to his eyes, but it’s not such a horrible feeling when he understands. “Percy… do you still want to make the arrows? I understand if you don’t, but… I really do love them.”

His lips curve into a smile. “I’ll make as many as you want.”

And then, somehow, their lips are connecting. Vex doesn’t who leaned in for the kiss first, or if they were both in sync, but either way, it’s wonderful. Soft and slow, like nothing she’s ever experienced.

Her hand finds purchase on the back of his neck, idly stroking through the baby hairs there, smiling against his lips when he melts into her touch. His own hand is on the small of her back, holding her close to him, thumb rubbing mindless patterns.

“That was…” Percy whispers when they finally break apart for air, coming to rest their foreheads together. “Wonderful.”

Vex laughs, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Agreed. Do you think you can pull yourself away from the workshop for the rest of the day? I would like to spend some time apologizing for… everything. I really am sorry.”

“I’ve already forgiven you, Vex.”

“I’d still like to make it up to you. However you like. Besides, I’m not exactly getting the short end of the stick here, darling. Your company is a lovely bonus.”

Percy’s throat bobs. “I would enjoy a dinner with you, if you’re offering. But I don’t want you to do it as a payment, or an apology.”

Vex sighs, pushing through her instincts in order to be honest, peel back some of her armor, exposing her vulnerable underside. “That’s not what this is. Not in your case, anyway. I… I care for you, Percy, and I am going to keep apologizing for a little while, because I feel really fucking bad. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t also enjoy a dinner together. Genuinely”

His smile is radiant as he leans down to kiss her once more, if briefly. “Alright. I’ll ask Laina to cook something for us. There’s not much privacy to be had in the dining room, but we’ll make do—”

“Oh, don’t be silly. My room is big enough for us both. Meet me there with the food, yeah? Don’t keep me waiting,” Vex hums, pressing one last teasing kiss to the corner of Percy’s lips, quite enjoying his blush as she flutters out of his workshop. 

She’s sure of one thing: this is going to be a lovely dinner.

#critical role #vex'ahlia #perc'ahlia #percy de rolo #percival de rolo #percahlia #vexahlia #vex #bad news bears #Percy de rolo #tlovm #the legend of vox machina #lovm #legend of vox machina #cr c1

[harmlessghosty]

Florist!MC X Mhin + mutual pining?🥺

Florist MC, I am sobbing…! This is an adorable concept and I am in LOVE with it.

Little bit of an AU, but MC still has bandages on their hands to fit with canon. It ended up a little long, so I put a break.

Prompt is from this post:

—

Mhin was never the type to buy flowers. What for? They had no one left to give them to, and the only person they cared about was basically just their doctor. Plus, the crappy things died within a week, and they rotted like a smelly carcass, and they didn’t even look all that pretty.

At least, that was what they thought until they met the florist.

They were kind enough to offer Mhin a rose when they passed by, with nothing more than a simple, “You looked like you could use a cheering up. Here. On the house.”

Having not experienced that kind of appreciation for many, many long nights, they took it with a confused nod.

Now, they couldn’t hold themselves back from visiting the florist even on their busiest days. Instead of spending their free time looking for hunting jobs or relaxing (well, not relaxing per se, but biding their time) at home, they walked to the stupid flower shop to look at some stupid flowers and buy a stupid lily for no other reason than to talk to the stupid florist.

But they were so kind to Mhin, and they didn’t ask questions aside from the regular, “Are you from around here? What’s your name?” And suddenly, after a few weeks of visits, the more interesting question of, “So, do you mind if I ask who you’re buying flowers for?”

Mhin froze, thinking back to their one vase full of a range of decaying flowers on their kitchen counter and trying not to scowl. How weird was it to say that the flowers were for themself, not for a lover or a relative? “No one,” they admitted, averting their eyes.

“No one?” they asked, confused. “O-oh. You’re here so often that I thought maybe they were for…a partner.”

“No…No partner,” Mhin replied, feeling a flush of heat rise up their neck. No partner, they thought, not that they were looking for one anyway…but the florist was kind of cute, at least…and they were nice, so it wouldn’t be unheard of to ask politely in return… “And what about you?”

“N-no,” they stammered, turning their gaze toward a bouquet of the reddest roses Mhin might have ever seen. “I’ve been busy with the shop, really, so I haven’t…found anyone. It’s hard in places like this to find someone with the same goals as you have, you know?”

“Right. That’s important, having the same goals,” Mhin repeated, nodding in understanding. They agreed, hoping their face didn’t show the relief that they felt in hearing that the florist was single. It was their chance to try something they weren’t prone to doing; just, hopefully, they weren’t being too forward. “How much for the dozen roses?”

“Seven copper.”

They rooted through their pockets and passed over the coins, taking the huge, bright bouquet with both hands. To their shock, their fingers brushed the florist’s bandaged hands, and a simmer of heat bubbled in their stomach. Not even skin-to-skin, and they could feel how chilly and clammy their palms were.

Without thinking further or allowing their nerves to well in their stomach, Mhin didn’t let the roses touch their chest before jutting them back out to the florist. “Here,” they said, their voice muffled behind the fabric of their collar. “Take them.”

They looked at the flowers with a furrowed brow. “Take them?”

“They’re for you,” Mhin said, feeling that bastardized heat rush to their cheeks. Why wouldn’t they just grab the damn bouquet and let them sprint away in embarrassment? “Put it in your room or something, but don’t sell them again. It’s a gift, so take it.”

Eyes lighting with a beauty Mhin had never seen before, they hugged the large bouquet against their chest, ignoring the thorns pricking at their shirt. “Really? No one’s ever given me flowers before.”

Now was Mhin’s turn to be confused. “But you sell them.”

“But that’s the thing. No one gives them to me because I have so many.” They grinned, stuffing their nose into the flowers and taking a deep breath, then releasing it high into the air. “Mm, thank you, Mhin. This is the greatest gift anyone’s given me in years.”

They struggled not to roll their eyes. Why did the florist have to be so…adorable? “You should be more careful acting like this in Eridia,” they warned. “People like to take advantage of people like you who act soft.”

Waving off the concern, they embraced the flowers again. “You’re always here though,” they said with a smile. “I know you’re strong, and you check up on me almost every day.”

“I’m not going to watch over you like that forever. I have things to do outside of buying flowers.” It was half of a lie; they’d been watching over the florist for ages now, making sure they got home safely in the evenings and that no one ruined their little shop. Clearly they had noticed or they wouldn’t have said anything. Was Mhin really that obvious with their interests? Ugh…

“Well, if you have time, maybe you can walk me home tonight?” the florist asked, a lilt of shyness and interest in their voice.

Mhin’s body froze for a moment before a scoff sneaked from their throat. “I told you, I have things to do.” But the look on their face betrayed them, because the florist let a small pout cross their pretty little lips. Giving into the temptation, Mhin sighed. “Fine. Six o’clock sharp, I’ll come back for you. Be ready, or else I’m leaving.”

They straightened their posture and bent over the table of flowers to take Mhin’s hands firmly in their own. The old bandages scratched their calloused skin. “Thank you! I’m so excited to see you! I’ll be more than ready!” they promised with the happiest grin Mhin thought they’d ever seen on a person before.

Grumbling and embarrassed, Mhin felt their hands automatically squeeze the florists—their first touch, and Mhin’s first touch from anyone outside of medical care in a long, long time. It felt…welcoming and nerve-wracking simultaneously.

And Mhin’s heart hurt in a way they hadn’t felt for a decade at least.

When they released each other, they tucked their face into their hood and crossed their arms. It wasn’t exactly a date, but—

“So it’s a date!” the florist said, setting their new bouquet of roses into a gaudy vase behind the countertop. “I’ll see you at six.”

“It’s a date,” Mhin repeated, biting their lips to stop from smiling in excitement. They had to hide it, but they looked forward to the meeting later in the day. Besides, maybe they’d be able to show off their strength—get them to grab their hand in surprise or fear at a roaming Soulless or gang member, not that they wanted to scare their new company. They simply wanted to keep the florist safe on the shitty streets of Eridia. If that meant a little hand-holding, then so be it.

So help them God, they’d be the best damn guard anyone ever had.

#ghostywrites #touchstarved game #touchstarved mhin #mhin #ghosty’s asks

[musashi]

(feel free to ignore if you've already talked about this) Hey so I love your posts analyzing the prosecutor sibs and Im having thoughts. I haven't seen anyone else mention it except to be like "that was dumb" but Edgeworth picking up the gun in turnabout goodbyes. Oh my god. We know has ptsd from dl-6 and if he was having a flashback after yogi shot into the lake and threw himself overboard (which he most definitely was) then of course he picked up the gun. History was repeating itself. He picked up the gun in the elevator all those years ago when he thought he'd killed someone. And that night on the lake, he picked it up again. No wonder he was like "i don't know why" when first prompted about it.

not only was history repeating itself but the crime was exactly the same: a defense attorney shot through the heart alone in the darkness where no one could see. a secret, unheard gunshot being the decisive evidence that reveals the truth.

and, in an act of what i'm sure he perceived as glorious reclamation and revenge, yogi completely reversed the roles. in his head, he took the fall for what miles did. this time, miles takes the fall for him.

and obviously, the truth was the same both times. there was always one mastermind in the shadows, and both times that mastermind was the same.

turnabout goodbyes makes me insane. and youre right! of course miles picked up the gun! that's what he does! in that moment im sure his head was in a hundred different places at once. "my body reacted on its own" yeah no shit traumaboy

[letstalkwhump]

Let's Talk Whump No.5

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! ! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host. 

Today I’m talking whump with the wonderful @painsandconfusion! 

So good to have you here today, @painsandconfusion! Tell us a fun fact about yourself!

I'm a lawyer but don't seem like a lawyer at all - everyon'es always confused when I say so. I'm a fan of jumping between fluffy pink dresses, standard hipster vibes, emo styles, and who knows what else. It's different every day. I just like variety!

What does whump mean to you?

Oh dear, tricky to answer...

Whump is when a character is at their highest stress point (or...at least higher than average). I suffer from severe and vivid nightmares, but I found out that when I write whump, I can process my fears and anxieties through those characters and their experiences. I can only go about two weeks without writing before the nightmares start again. It's kinda amazing to see just how effective and healthy it is for me. I live vicariously through my whumpees for a moment, and they help my brain keep its shit together. Then I get to meet all these lovely people online and it just makes my heart so happy!

Wow, that’s really great to hear! Whump can be really cathartic at times. How did you find the whump community? What made you want to join? 

I think this is a standard story, but I discovered the hero x villain community first, and it wasn't /quite/ my cup of tea, but it was close. After I saw a few people reblogging things with #whump, I checked it out. 

I have a vivid memory of skipping class for the first time in my life, just sitting in my apartment, all but crying as I scrolled through everything. I was so relieved to find that I wasn't alone. I spent so much of my life hating myself and hating whumperflies and hating that I was drawn to violence and not understanding why. After I found this community I felt so much more at home. 

I made a blog and started reblogging.

Then of course, I relapsed into hating myself and deleted it.

Then I made another. Started posting gifs I made from my favorite whumpy movies.

The kink community kinda took it over - which is fine and lovely and I'm happy to share content, but....they were the only ones who saw my blog. So everything I made was taken in a way I didn't mean and I felt very isolated and unheard.

So I deleted it again.

A couple years ago, I tried again. I started just reblogging, then I impulsively added to a prompt list in one of my reblogs and people really liked it? So I made more. And more and more and more- eventually I started posting scenes, and I've been having a lovely time here ever since! 

Do you think your view on whump has changed since you joined? Are there tropes you now love/hate that you didn't at first? 

Absolutely. Like. Wow so much. I used to dislike pain a lot and only enjoy the fear leading up to it. While I still prefer the suspense, nothing really squicks me out anymore. I used to hate pet whump but now I'm a fan. 

I have started making whump art as of late, which has been a fun new adventure! I picked it up almost solely because there's so many fantastic writers in this community who deserve some good fanart. I'm having fun working through a list of my favorite creators!

Tell us about your favourite whump trope!

Dear goodness, do I love a chin tilt.

No no...hmmm.....I get to run wild with this question and there's nothing you can do to stop me! Muahhahahhaaaaaaaa~

Okay so. Picture this.

Whumpee stumbling slowly backward, breath catching in their throat and burning at their lungs. Their feet drag against the ground as they stare up at Whumper, eyes shaking and sparkling with tears that cling to their lashes, refusing to fall. Not /quite/ yet. 

Whumper strokes a knuckle down their cheek, drawing a twitch - not quite a flinch, no no, Whumpee wouldn't dare to pull away. Whumper's hand flips softly as it reaches their jaw, pressing to their throat instead.

Whumpee finally lets a sound pass their lips, a soft whimper as their back hits the wall. The momentum topples the wetness from their lashes, and Whumper's eyes roam down to follow them as they soak hot into the fabric of Whumpee's shirt. 

Whumper's hand turns up just /once/ more, curling a finger under Whumpee's chin to tip their head up, drawing hiding eyes back into place.

Then they say something whumpy, I guess - you get the picture.

LOVE that shit. 

Intimate whumpers? Slow pacing? Vivid sensation? Yes!

Absolutely loving the detail in that! It’s all about the sensations! And speaking of favourites, do you want to share a piece you've written?

Hard Question!

First one that comes to mind is The Party. It's one of my favorites because my hands were shaking so hard while writing it. It was a great way to kick off that event (@thewhumperssoiree) which I'm inadvertently yet shamelessly plugging by answering with that piece I guess! It's very very fun, I loved what that piece created. Everyone who wrote for it did such a great job! (Event is still open, I don’t know why I'm talking about it in past tense)

Do you have a standard writing style/routine or does it vary?

I absolutely change up my paragraph style depending on the intensity of the scene or the place in the scene. I'm a big fan of elaborating and writing moment to moment so the oc's sensations and emotions bleed into the reader. I don't write much on visuals at all - almost entirely on sensation, which I think works well in this medium.

When I'm writing, I kinda forget everything else exists, so I don't have food or drink or if I do, it's neglected. If anyone tries to talk to me, tough luck to them, I'm in the Write Zone and I cannot hear them!

I write solely when inspiration strikes which.......is a lot!

Is there a noticeable difference in how easily you write things? Do the words always flow or do you have to beat them out sometimes?

There's characters who don't get in my head nearly as easily, and ones that are effortless. Getting fucking Alec in my head? Impossible. He's a bitch, then does bitch things once there. Ethan? Dream. Miracle boy. So easy to write that emo little shit. For clarification, the seven chapters of Alec's series vs the thirty of Ethan's. Alec is a bitch. End of story.

But, I also do much better describing little moments rather than full scenes. I'm good at scenes, but it takes so many spoons. Hence why I have three hundred or so random drabble posts or lists, but only like fifty total from my series. It just takes more effort to have to think about plot and pacing and all that good stuff. 

Fun? Yes. 

But hard.

Is there anything you're working on at the moment? Finalising the final chapter of your series? Starting a new au? Trying a different style of writing/pov? Revisiting fanfiction? Maybe you've really gotten into poetry....

Oh dear goodness, I'm working on everything all at once and I need to stop!

I also need to roleplay less and write more for you lovelies! I’m so sorry I’m just really distractible…

Give us some writing advice. Bless us with your wisdom!

I have posts for this but:

1. Keep your descriptions to the textured senses. Less visuals, more sensation. Caretaker has brown hair? So what? Tell me about how Caretaker's hair curled at the ends, just barely tickling at the corner of their eyes until they flicked it away with a twitchy shake of the head.

2. Personify the shit out of your nouns. Whumpee bled? No. The blood soaked through Whumpee's shirt. Make it an external factor that's affecting them. Much more engaging.

3. Pacing. Whumpee got dragged into the car, then into a house and chained in the basement? That's not one scene, that's at least three. OR. It's a two sentence summary that Whumpee is musing about while already in the basement. 

4. Speaking of, don't start with the boring, just get right into the action. You can weave the 'how we got here' bits in after a few sentences, but get your reader hooked right away. Don't start with "Whumpee got out of bed, glancing at their blaring alarm". Try instead "Their hands were shaking so hard they had to try three times to dial the number, fingers as clumsy as they were that morning, trying to slap their alarm off through the fog of blissful sleep." Or just don't mention it at all! Skip to the good stuff!

Lastly, let’s hype up some of your favourite blogs! Any friends, writers or just really cool people you want to shout out?

@whumblr was like my idol before I started! It's so cool just casually knowing her now? Still not over that, to be honest.

I always tag her but @distinctlywhumpthingmpthing is so good? Seriously, you want to see some god-tier writing, go over there. (minors read tws well please, its not all for you.)

@brutal-nemesisemesis is always a delight. Castys gives me life.

And of course,  I'm gonna give a shoutout to @wormwritinging, my beloved. We met here and as much as I adore this community, they're hands down the best part of it. 

Anything you'd like to add? 

I can't think of anything but thank you for doing this. This blog is so cool!

It’s been a honor to have you here, @painsandconfusion!

And to all you folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

#whump community #whump interviews #lets talk whump

[deepspacedukat]

Compromise

This is it! The final installment of the SoC Challenge! 🥳 I know it's been a wild ride, but thank you so much to everyone who stuck with me through all this chaos! All of your encouragement and kind words have really been so uplifting, and I couldn't have made it through without you, my gentle readers!

So, a little context: this is an AU version of my OC, Kollos, when he was still a Minister of the High Command. This is not connected to any other story about him that I have written/will write. This is set in the ST:ENT part of the timeline prior to the incident with the Kir'Shara, and from what I gathered, there are somewhere between five and seven members of the High Command (four to six Ministers, plus one Administrator). That number could be incorrect, but from watching the show/scrolling through Memory Alpha casting info, this was the impression given. Anyway, enjoy this final installment of the 2023 SoC! Thanks for dropping by!

Day 31: Free Choice - Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Facial, Come Swallowing

SoC prompt list here. SoC Masterlist here. Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Entire Vulcan High Command (ENT Era) x Reader, Administrator V'Las (ST:ENT) x Reader, Minister Kuvak (ST:ENT) x Reader, Minister Kollos (OC) x Reader, Other Unnamed High Command Ministers x Reader

[A/N: This is smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Everything is consensual!!!! Interspecies sex, Human/Vulcan sex, oral sex (male receiving), voyeurism, masturbation, spit-roasting, multiple orgasms, creampie, come swallowing, facial, Vulcans becoming aroused in a completely logical manner.

~*~

Apprenticeships like this were practically unheard of. A Human student being allowed to train under a Vulcan scientist at the most prestigious academy on all of Vulcan was a first. I could hardly believe that out of all the applicants for the position, I'd been one of the three selected for this honor.

For two years, I lived and worked at the Vulcan Science Academy. T'Van, the Professor with whom I'd been studying and working, had been reluctant to participate in the program when he found out that he'd be paired with a Human student. As time passed, however, I'd proven myself to be intelligent and dedicated to my work.

T'Van pulled me aside a couple of months before I was scheduled to return to Earth to express his concerns.

"I cannot offer you an extension myself. However, I will encourage you wholeheartedly to request one from the Academy's Board of Directors. It would be...inconvenient to train a new apprentice," T'Van murmured, and I couldn't stop a small smile from stretching my lips.

"You can admit that you'd miss me, y'know. There's no harm in finding the absence of another being displeasing, especially one you've come to think of as a friend." He lifted an eyebrow at my insinuation, and to my surprise, he nodded his head.

"It would be...logical...to assume that your absence would be disconcerting. I have become accustomed to you," he admitted as he practically shoved a data PADD under my nose. "This is the correct set of forms required to request an extension. I have already affixed my signature in the appropriate places and taken the liberty of setting an appointment for you with the Board tomorrow morning."

"T'Van–"

"As you are only scheduled to be here for another two months, I trust I needn't remind you that time is of the essence." With that, he swept from his office, leaving me to ponder what exactly I needed to say to persuade the Academy's Directors that I deserved to stay.

--

The next morning came both too quickly and not quickly enough for my tastes. I said my piece with as much eloquence as I could muster, hoping that I'd done well enough to avoid an immediate rejection.

"You have some interesting theories, t'sai, and your accomplishments are not in question. However," the Vulcan in the middle of the group steepled his fingers as he spoke, "we do not have the authority to grant you an extension in this instance. Our receptionist will provide you with the correct set of forms that you will require to present your request to those whose authority exceeds our own. Should you be successful, the Vulcan Science Academy will be agreeable to your continued presence. Live long and prosper, t'sai."

The next group of officials I spoke with responded in nearly the exact same way, acknowledging my accomplishments, giving their apologies, and shunting me off to the department above theirs to become someone else's problem. After three more such instances, I was quite used to the placating words and abrupt dismissals that punctuated each of these meetings.

As my quest for an extension continued, I found more and more people looking at me in the hallways of the Academy. I had been an interesting sight to the Vulcan students and professors before given that I was a different species, but the day before my final meeting nearly two weeks later, I caught a phrase that made my eyes widen.

"...believe her next appeal will be to the High Command," a Vulcan woman said to her companion as T'Van and I walked through the hall to his office.

As soon as the door was closed behind us, I blurted my thoughts in a panic.

"What did that woman mean about the High Command?"

T'Van looked up from his desk with a raised eyebrow.

"You have exhausted all other bodies of authority. Your next appointment to request an extension is with the council of the High Command tomorrow. Were you unaware?"

After the professor's casual statement, the rest of the day was a blur. Right up until I got into the elevator in the building that housed the High Command's office, I felt a sort of detached calm as though it wasn't really me who was going to be speaking with the heads of the Vulcan government.

"You're the woman who's requesting an extension, right?" I turned to find a perky, blond woman standing next to me in the elevator. She was clearly Human, like me, and I felt a dim sort of comfort.

"Yes, but how did you...?"

"I work as a secretary to Ministers Kuvak and Kollos. My own assignment was supposed to be temporary, but here we are," she said waving a hand airily. "May I make a suggestion?"

I nodded my head, and she pulled a small bottle from the pocket of her robe.

"None of the Ministers are in happy marriages. They were all arranged for political gain or social status by their parents. Your best bet for getting that extension would be an appeal to their pride...and a little flirtation. A spritz or two of this pheromone enhancer wouldn't hurt, either," she said. "They're a tough room, but the few times I've seen them interacting with women who aren't their wives...well, let's just say they were much more agreeable with a little ego-stroking."

I accepted the spritz of seemingly-odorless liquid, and as the door opened to our floor, I couldn't help but let my curiosity rule my tongue.

"Thank you. I'm grateful, really, but why are you doing this?" I asked quietly as we walked down the long hallway toward a pair of thick double doors.

"Because, I know what it's like to deal with this planet's bureaucracy. It's a pain in the ass, and when we spoke to set up your appointment, I couldn't help but notice that you sounded a bit frazzled," she murmured as the doors hissed open.

There were a few desks in this space, two of which were currently occupied. A third stood empty to one side of the room, and it seemed to be my companion's destination. Not exactly knowing where to go, I opted to follow her. Setting my stack of PADDs down on an empty corner, I allowed myself a short pause to gather my thoughts and my courage.

Admittedly, the thought of flirting with the Ministers to better my chances had crossed my mind - Vulcans were quite attractive - but before Jana suggested it, I had dismissed that as a possible solution. Surely people in such important positions would be even more stoic and disgusted by such blatant attention?

"Alright, the Ministers are ready for you now. Good luck." How long had I been standing there lost in thought? Mentally shaking away my nerves, I strode to the door leading to the council chamber and watched as it slid open before me.

"Come in, t'sai," a surprisingly warm voice called from the center of the large room that lay before me. A tall, broad Vulcan man with graying hair stood behind a long, highly-polished desk. I recognized him as Minister Kollos from the rather hurried research I'd done the night before.

He took his seat along with the other four Vulcans, only two of whom I recognized. Administrator V'Las, a harsh-looking Vulcan sat dead center, and to his other side was Minister Kuvak. The two younger Vulcans flanking the two ends of the desk were a mystery, though. I remembered their faces, but I couldn't quite put names to those faces.

"We have convened to hear your appeal for an extension of the duration of your apprenticeship with Osu T'Van at the Vulcan Science Academy," Administrator V'Las called as he folded his hands in front of him. "You may begin when ready."

Taking a deep breath as I walked farther into the room, I launched into the speech I'd given repeatedly over the past two weeks. handing each of them a data PADD with the relevant information as I spoke, I made my statement as quickly and concisely as possible.

"Your accomplishments cannot be denied, but forgive me...it sounds as though you have rehearsed this several times," Kuvak said with a hint of amusement sparkling in his eyes.

"Ah, that would be the result of having given that speech to five groups before you. Administrator, Ministers, I was hoping that, given your combined wisdom and logic, this little request of mine could be sorted out rather easily," I said giving the most attentive of them all, Kollos, a small, hopeful smile. "You are my last hope. Surely there's a way we can resolve this situation today...?"

Truthfully, I was probably being a little too obvious with my praise, but in my social encounters with Vulcans, I found that it was sometimes necessary to lay it on a bit thicker than normal. I could have been imagining things, but I could have sworn that a faint, green blush was rising in his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

"T'sai, we have already heard and denied the appeals of both the other candidates from your selection pool," Administrator V'Las intoned from his seat at the center of the long table. His cold, steely blue eyes watched dispassionately as I took a steadying breath. "What makes you believe that we should rule differently in regards to your case?"

Okay. Okay, not all hope was lost. The other two apprentices were men. I was familiar with them and their unfortunate personalities. They likely came in here brimming with arrogance and puffed-up theories which had no logical basis. They likely assumed that they would be granted the extension they sought once the Ministers recognized their brilliance. I needed to use a different tactic.

"I have no logical reason to believe that I deserve to stay more than the others. I do, however, believe that this council is wise enough to distinguish between a theory concocted of assumptions and one based on solid research. Each of you gentlemen has an achievement-filled career prior to your current appointment. To accomplish everything that you have and also serve your people in so selfless a manner...I must admit that I admire your dedication," I stated, allowing my eyes to skim over each in turn. Minister Kuvak looked practically stunned. "I only hope that one day, I will be able to say that I attained even a fraction of your success, and I firmly believe that my continued apprenticeship with Osu T'Van will be instrumental in giving me the best chance at accomplishing that lofty goal."

There was silence for a long, tense moment, then came the rustling of fabric. Minister Kollos stood and made his way around the polished wooden table, pausing only a few feet in front of me. How was one man that broad? His robes were clearly tailored to hug his figure closely, but really, the further reminder of how much he towered over me made my breath hitch.

"You present a convincing argument, t'sai," he said in a voice as deep and smooth as top-shelf whiskey. "We will deliberate and inform you tomorrow of our decision."

Wait, it was over already? Throwing caution to the wind, I took a few slow steps closer to him and bit my lower lip.

"Thank you for your consideration, osu, but...is there anything more that I could do to convince you to decide in my favor?" I asked looking up at him and batting my eyelashes as my fingertips brushed lightly over the back of one of his hands. Kollos's eyes widened, but he didn't protest or move away. His jaw clenched, and his gaze darkened significantly. "Anything at all...?"

"T'sai...you needn't feel pressured to take such actions," Kollos stated, but he didn't move away. The other Ministers likely had a good view of how scandalously I was touching a member of the Vulcan government.

"We would likely rule in your favor regardless of your personal persuasion," Kuvak called, but despite the concern on his face, there was hunger lingering in his gaze, as well.

"If she feels the need to seduce us to make certain of our decision, who are we to stop her? Proceed, if you wish." Administrator V'Las posited as he leaned back in his chair. Minister Kollos's free hand turned my head back toward him and he looked somberly into my eyes.

"You don't have to do this." His voice was barely above a whisper, but the vehemence in his voice made up my mind for me. The two younger Ministers who sat at either end of the long table seemed to have no opinion on the matter, choosing instead to defer to the wisdom of the three more experienced members of the High Command.

"I want to, osu," I replied firmly, and in a flash, Kollos had spun me around, pressed my back against his front, and curled his fingers with mine.

"Are you quite certain that you know what you are doing?" Kuvak called as he shifted in his seat. "Humans are fragile–"

Kollos's warm breath caressed my neck, and a quiet moan escaped me. Any further protests Kuvak might have had were silenced and replaced with slow, hungry exhales.

I vaguely noted one of the younger Ministers ordering the whole council's schedule cleared for the next two hours.

"Is this what you originally planned to do when you made this appointment with us, girl?" V'Las called as he stood and made his way over to us. I couldn't bring myself to answer. Kollos's hands had already begun to wander, divesting me of my robes and exploring my curves as his colleagues watched. "Look at me."

Opening my eyes - I hadn't even realized that I'd closed them - I found the head of Vulcan High Command breathing heavily and palming the growing bulge in the front of his robes. Once I was fully nude between them, V'Las freed his erection and guided one of my hands to grasp him.

"Make yourself useful, then," he growled, and I looked up at him as innocently as I could.

"Wouldn't you prefer my mouth?" Both men let out a groan, and soon I was speared between them. The broad-shouldered Minister Kollos thrust into me from behind, grasping my hips tightly so I wouldn't fall, and Administrator V'Las grasped my hair, pushing himself farther and farther into my throat.

Moaning around the lok in my mouth, I fell apart when Minister Kollos rubbed my clit in quick, deliberate circles. V'Las practically shouted his release moments later, shoving himself deeper in my throat as he came.

When he finally pulled away, Kuvak appeared before me looking both concerned and aroused.

"Are you alright?" He murmured, but instead of answering, I pressed a soft kiss over his own clothed erection. After a split second's indecision, he began fumbling to free himself. Grasping his hand as I took him into my mouth, I relished the skill in Minister Kollos's fingers.

He brought me to orgasm twice more before he spilled himself. Kuvak came a moment after him, and I swallowed his pleasure. The sound of hurried footsteps made me open my eyes. The two youngest Ministers, who had until a moment before been stroking their lengths to the show before them, now stood in Kuvak's place and groaned as erupted.

Hot ropes of their come splattered across my cheeks, and after a few quiet murmurs of gratitude, it was over. Kollos helped me to my feet, handing me a cloth to clean my face. I was attempting to replace my clothing in some semblance of the order it had been in prior to our tryst when V'Las spoke.

"T'sai, I think I speak for all of us when I say that should you need any other requests granted in future, you need only come to us and we shall ensure that you are not refused," he paused, "assuming that we have more sessions like today's, of course."

Kollos laid his hand lightly on my shoulder.

"You are not obligated to agree to that. We would grant your requests whether or not we repeat today's activities," he said with a glance of reproach at the Administrator.

"And you will receive your official extension notice this evening," one of the two younger Ministers called.

"I appreciate your concern, Ministers, but I'd be more than happy to come back do this again," I replied. They all seemed rather pleased to hear that.

As I made my way back toward the elevator, a familiar head of blond hair appeared next to me. Jana looked like the cat who got the canary. Clearly she'd guessed what happened.

"I'm just going to assume you're getting that extension. So...knowing how much the Ministers appreciate a steady routine, should I set up an appointment for the same time next week?"

~*~*~

Vulcan Words:

t'sai = lady (title)

osu = sir (title)

~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

#deepspacedukat fic #Entire Vulcan High Command x Reader #V'Las x Reader #Kollos x Reader #Kuvak x Reader

[l-e-morgan-author]

on mental health, autism and my life lately

Contentedly, Patience settled to her knitting, glad to have the hardest part of the day over. Now all she had to fight was complicated patterns, and cables that didn’t really want to work exactly how they were supposed to. Much easier than people.

*points* autism

Anyway this is. I originally put the rest of this in the tags and then I typed it up here again because no, it has to be part of the post, actually.

So two weeks ago I was completely convinced that I would die in a matter of days. By my own hand. I was severely suicidal, at an eight on the Emmengard scale, except for the frequent times it tipped up to nine. It was hell. I had a friend overseas who the entire year so far, I didn't think I'd see again because I would have killed myself before she got home. It was that bad.

And she's got home, and barring accident, I will see her again. I've been on the brink of suicide for more than two months, and now, that's changed. Truly I didn't realise how bad it was, really, until I was delivered from it.

This might seem completely separated from the original excerpt, but bear with me. I was realising just now that if I'd written Patience, Changing a year ago, it wouldn't be half so good. So far I'm up to 18k, and it's good. It has a lot of stuff to work on, of course, and I'm still distilling the true centre of it. It'll take a few drafts, but it's good. Patience is autistic, and I knew that a year ago. But I didn't know I was autistic, not then. Now, I understand myself a great deal more, and I understand her because of that. She's me, to some extent, including aspects of me that I didn't even realise were a thing until recently. Because I know me more, I now lean into the aspects in which we are similar, and relish the ones in which we're different. She has one good, close friend in a way I just don't have, not precisely like that. (Look, I love and cherish my friends, truly, but Patience and Nathan's friendship is just Different. And I certainly didn't have anyone like that at her age. Maybe if I had things would have been different for me.)

My heart is full of love today; I can't stop thinking, Patience, we made it. We both made it. We had patience (ha!) and we MADE it. We got here, and for now that's enough. I did an artwork once that was featured in my university's mental health exhibition, about how today is enough, sometimes.

Anyway, the reason I've been so much better (and written about 20k in the last week alone, unheard of for months because of severe depression) is anxiety medication. My doctor put me on medication for anxiety, as a last-ditch attempt before hospitalisation for suicide concern as well as self harm. They're highly addictive, and thus he doesn't want me on them for much longer, so I might be singing a different tune in a few days when he tells me to stop taking them or something, but even so. For now, this is enough. Sure, I'm still depressed. But barely. I've been on the line of severe/extremely severe for both depression and anxiety for ages, and whether it's the anxiety med alone or that it gives the antidepressant I've been on a while space to actually work, the difference is drastic.

So I'm drafting Patience, Changing. And having enormous fun. I'm planning all sorts of things. (Check my tumblr blog, @l-e-morgan-author for more fun and exciting things I get up to.) I'm even planning to hit 25k tomorrow on Patience, Changing, and I'm on 56k total draft for all the Patience things, including fluff prompts that will turn into a novella, and the existing novella The Patience of Hope.

So this might be a short-term thing, but guys. We made it. We made it. And I talked to my grandmother today about being autistic, and told her I think she's autistic, and she was fascinated by that, and was very autistic about it, and she asked all sorts of lovely questions.

And I debated something with someone who doesn't share my faith, and I failed in the debate because I didn't know enough to answer their arguments, but hey. That's okay.

That's okay. I'm okay. I'm planning for uni already. Gonna be a difficult semester, but even so. I'm excited for it. Excited! Something I haven't been, not really, for months and maybe years.

I leave you, then, with this excerpt from later on in the chapter:

You are whole, said the anonymous letter. You are whole, Patience, you are not broken.

this post was published on my blog, with minor edits.

Patience taglist:

@pilgrimsofworship

@stealingmyplaceinthesun

@noisette-tornade

@graycedelfin

@choasuqeen

#patience changing #patience shepherd #actually autistic #we made it guys. we had patience and we MADE IT

[sawyerconfort]

Jess McCready cuddle fluff imagine pls

HEY!

Sorry, it took me a while to post this.

Anyway, I hope you like it. I'm slowly coming back with imagines from other fandoms and, as I'm missing aloto these days (I'm still not over it), I thought I needed to post one.

Enjoy!

Please be patient with the asks, it takes me a while, but I'll do it!

---------------

Grumpy Kid | Jess McCready x Fem!Reader

PROMPT: When you date someone who apparently doesn't like physical touch and you're secretly crazy about spooning.

***

It was raining. And you were accompanying your newest girlfriend's baseball team on a trip out of the state they usually stayed in.

It was common that early in the morning, before the game, the Rockford Peaches would go out to practice a little, and you would follow Jess there too, from the stands. But you had met the bad weather, and that was common as well.

Now, without practice or games, the girls tried to have fun the way they liked best. Some had gotten involved in a game of chess, others were drinking and smoking, some were sleeping peacefully. You and Jess were just relaxing, in the room she shared with Greta, her forcefully cutting her nails while you were in bed, feet up.

"You're going to come to bed, aren't you?"

Jess looked at you. "All I'm missing is my big toe. And then I'll go, yes."

You smiled, knowing she was serious. But of course, your girlfriend's stay in bed came with a price: no spooning.

Jess wasn't fond of physical touch, and that was clear from the moment you met, in a gay bar at the game the girls played in your state. She tried really hard to ask you to dance with her and was a little afraid when you rested your face on her chest in the middle of the slow song.

It kind of confused you at first, but now, it was a matter of habit, more than anything.

As she had said before, she finished doing her toe nails and threw herself on the bed, surprisingly opening her arms and looking at you as if to say: "come to my hug", which was unheard of.

"Don't get used to it, just so you have something better to lie on than those hard, horrible pillows, God..."

You smiled and nodded, hugging her and laying your head on her chest. Jess didn't hug you or anything, just kept her arms up, sighing.

"I wish we could practice, this is so unfair," she complained, sighing again. You looked at her with a frown.

"Unless you want to catch a cold, of course, I agree."

Jess looked back at you and chuckled. "Then you would take care of me," she laughed again. "Oh come on, (Y/N), don't make that face."

You raised your arms in surrender and she laughed. Then, she dodged when you tried to touch her chest, caressing her.

"Jess..."

"We've already talked about this, love."

"But the weather is perfect for cuddling...", you pouted and she laughed. "Please..."

Jess rolled her eyes playfully and continued with her arms up, not making a point of hugging you. Until you threw yourself at her and surprised her, in a good way.

"(Y/N), what the actual fuck?", she whispered, not in an angry way, just confused, her way.

"Okay, my bad. I was just trying", you explained, now feeling guilty. Jess looked at you with teary eyes and a frown, then grabbed your chin with her pincer finger and lifted it.

Her little eyes... Jess McCready was definitely tough and a lot stronger than she even looked, but she was just as affectionate when she was with you, especially.

"It's okay, baby, I know," she whispered. "I'm the one who owes you an apology. I was too rude this time, sorry."

"No, love... You were just being you."

You laughed and pressed your nose against hers, which she allowed, without fear, without backing down this time. Jess pulled you closer, holding you by the waist, and then rested her chin on the top of your head.

"I think I'm starting to like the idea of ​​spooning in the rain. You’re very comfortable, (Y/N).”

"You think?"

Jess nodded, and the minutes-long kiss she gave you afterwards was breathtaking.

"My comfy girl..." she whispered, laughing. "But please, just don't tell the girls that we're spooning, okay?"

“Okay, grumpy kid,” you teased back, laughing. "Okay, that would be a good name for a superhero, hmm?"

Jess rolled her eyes, but didn't let go of you, not even with the bad jokes you made for the rest of the time you were there, until the rain stopped for good.

#lgbt #romance #oneshot #imagine #fluff #aloto x reader #aloto #a league of their own x reader #a league of their own #jess mccready #jess mccready x reader #she's too cute i wanna kiss all over her face #ok next one is a prompt from heathers should be out soon also don't worry

[latibvles]

something to write about.

we are back with another one of these!! yay!! this week's prompt is recuperation — and so we're tackling willie and some post-bremen dilemmas, featuring John Brady no this isn't just an excuse for me to write them who said that? anyways im fond of them and this and I hope you are too :) me? posting at a reasonable time? unheard of.

It was almost offputting, how a phrase could change meaning in a little over 72 hours. Nothing to write home about becomes nothing you can write home about. Willie always struggled with writing letters, and Viv often teased her about how she’s the only person in the Hundredth who could struggle with making piloting sound exciting. Of course, Willie didn’t want it to sound exciting, even if she could manage that. She didn’t need Otto getting any wise ideas to end up on the fast track for enlistment. But now, there was nothing she could write home about.

Thirty people, gone, just like that. It was hard to be optimistic when there were no chutes to give some scrap of hope — and Willie hated watching June wipe Carrie’s blood from her hands almost as much as she hated watching Carrie get carried away on a stretcher, her collarbone a bloody mess haphazardly subdued with the sulfa powder and rag June held to it until she had to drop their bombs in the channel. They only knew how upset she was about the whole thing after she kicked her footlocker like it’d personally wronged her after interrogation.

If this is what it feels like being the last man standing, Willie hates it most of all.

That was three days ago, and now most of Mouse Hole’s flak holes were all patched up, and Willie’s certain that if she hopped into it right now, there would be no blood on that bombsight, no remnant of the fact that Bremen, in plain terms, had been a failure.

But that was nothing she could write home about, now was it?

She couldn’t tell home about the dead or about the hole torn through a nineteen-year-old girl. She couldn’t tell them about the flak or watching three planes go down or the engine fire. She couldn’t tell them that ten women she’d considered friends were gone, just like that — no funeral, no fanfare. She just had to live with it, like they all did, even if she still couldn’t make sense of what she’d seen and much less make sense of the fact that she’d have to witness it again.

“Willie?”

The sound of her own name catches her offguard — she wants to kick herself for the reflexive jolt her body makes at being caught offguard. But she turns her head and there’s John Brady, looking apologetic for startling her.

And that fact really makes her want to kick herself.

“Hey,” she breathes out, then inwardly cringes at her own lackluster response. Real smooth, Willie.

“Hi,” That makes it better. He walks closer still, nods, and Willie looks over the details of his face quickly. Furrowed brows and a bit of a tight lip — he’d given them that same look when they came out of interrogation. 418th. The first group grounded, huh. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” She counters, brows raising. This, however, makes him nod, the frown cracking a little bit. Good enough.

“I asked you first.” Willie clicks her tongue in mock surrender, then gestures to Mouse Hole — the Mickey Mouse decal grinning down at the two of them like a flak-happy lunatic — then gives him a half-shrug.

“Came to check on my house,” she explains, a statement that chips away at the rest of that tight-lipped frown and makes him smile a little bit. Much better. “Thought I’d catch Swanson out here or something. Wanted to ask a couple questions but now I guess I’m just having a staring contest with Mickey Mouse.” His brows shoot up towards his hairline and he chuckles.

“Oh yeah? Who’s winning?”

“Me, obviously. I don’t lose,” He makes a noise that she’s pretty sure, or rather, hopes, is a laugh — based on how the corners of his eyes crinkle a little, how he ducks his head down for a moment to rub the nape of his neck with a quiet muttering of ‘of course.’ Then he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, tilts his head up to also, presumably, try his luck against the flak-happy mouse. He’s pretty bad at it though, because he glances at her again out of the corner of his eye.

“Where’s Viv?” Viv and Willie. Willie and Viv. Wherever one goes the other trails. Willie reaches up to rub at her earlobe a bit.

“Fifteen minutes behind me, probably. Or keeping the rest of them out of trouble,” Because that’s how it’s probably gonna be — she’s gonna make sure no girl walks home alone in the dark and I’m gonna sit and grumble until we make piss-poor jokes about it, just like we did over smaller things in Utah, Iowa, and Nebraska, too. “She’ll end up at the club one way or another.”

Brady nods, giving little more than an understanding ‘Ah’ and there’s a moment there where they lapse into something of a familiar quiet.

This, funnily enough, is the most normal she’s felt in days. She couldn’t really shake that restlessness that settled in after interrogation — a loud, harping feeling that she should be doing something. Which is at least half the reason that she came out here to begin with — to do something, maybe find something worth writing about on the hard-stands. I could tell them about Sandy Swanson and her crew of mechanics, or…

She looks Brady up and down for a moment. There was something assuring in knowing he didn’t seem off-put by her silence, that he was fine with sitting in it instead of prying words out of her that she couldn’t give. But words always came easier to her when she was comfortable anyway. And when it came to comfortable…

“You played well, last night,” Willie shoves her hands into her pockets. You always do. He raises a brow, his smile turning lopsided and boyish in a way Willie thinks she likes more than she reasonably so.

“You think so?”

“Well I’m no expert on the subject, but yeah,” Willie nods, affirming her own statement. “I do.”

There’s a look shared between them, and Willie feels that shyness starts to overtake her as it so often does when it comes to him. There’s the urge there, to say more: to show how much attention she pays to him when he picks up his instrument. There’s also the acute awareness that anything she says she’ll have to live with after saying it, and so she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something too bold.

It doesn’t change the fact that he’d quickly earned a soft spot with her, whether he meant to or not. Maybe that was something she could write about.

…Not the soft spot— the band. The music. She hadn’t really talked about that part much, beyond that there is a band, and there is music; jazz most nights, meant to provide them with some means of relaxation day in and out. There are words the more she thinks on it, waiting to be phrased in the right way to statiate the needs of both her worrying mother and her too-curious little brother. If there’s a few sentences in there about an unnamed saxophonist being, in her eyes, maybe a little bit better than the rest — then it’s a good thing she censors her own mail.

She reaches up to pat the body of her fort twice, takes a couple steps back and gives him a once over.

“I’m gonna head over now, I think. So I don’t make the missus wait on me,” there’s a snort there that’s so uncharacteristically Brady, and yet somehow he makes it work.

“Right, okay. I’ll walk you.”

“Think I can’t handle myself, Brady?” He clicks his tongue, turning as she walks past to keep step with her. He mutters something under his breath that she doesn’t quite catch, then continues to look at her as they walk.

“You caught me. I’m trying to keep you from dancing on tables.”

“Damn, there goes my weekend plans.”

Laughing is a shared sound, his deep chuckle overlapping with her breathy one, and she likes the combination. They lapse into that quiet again, the comfortable kind that feels normal when everything else doesn’t. Willie says nothing of the fact that their shoulders bump every now and again — if this is as much of a reprieve as she’s getting, then she’s more than happy. She’s never been a greedy type, but she could start to be if it meant there would be more of this. She steals a momentary glance at him, before committing wholly to it with a clearing of her throat as they get closer to the long rows of huts that line the path to the Officer’s Club.

“You never answered my question,” Willie points out, and Brady responds with little more than another ‘hm?’ “I asked what you were doing out there, you never answered.”

Brady’s brows raise to his hairline and he nods slowly before looking away from her, tongue poking out to run over his lips for what feels like a full minute before he looks back at her with that boyish smile of his again. There’s that brief, fleeting thought that recuperation looks less like the shine of brassy instruments and more like the warm, welcoming glint in those gray-blue eyes of his. If nothing else, he’s serving as a pretty great reminder that she is not, in fact, the last man standing.

“Heard there was a mouse running around by the hard stands, wanted to make sure she wasn’t scurrying into any of the forts and trying to take off,” The smile on his face gets a little wider with every word. Willie can’t help it — she laughs a little louder than before, shaking her head, half-disbelieving and yet surprised all the same that she couldn’t come to that conclusion on her own.

“Seriously? Did Viv put you up to that?” She asks, not upset at all, but Viv had a tendency to worry so Willie wouldn’t be especially surprised if she had.

It’s the barely there shake of his head, ‘no’ that almost knocks the wind from her lungs, and even if she doesn’t write this part down: Willie knows her mind will return to this fact often. And she won’t be able to hide her smile when it does.

#*poet writes #ch: willie neumann #ship: willie/brady #masters of the air oc #john brady x oc #mota oc #hbo war oc #putting them with the 349th not realizing their emblem was Mickey Mouse is one of the funniest things ive done to date #I love when this happens to me /gen

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Hey! I love what I’ve read so far! Can we get a kiss prompt #23 with Hangman x Reader? 🫶🏼

Hi Jordan! Thanks for liking all of the kisses I've posted so far! Here's Kiss #23 - in relief with Hangman and Reader!

Relieve Me Of My Burdens With A Kiss

It’s always nerve-wracking to see your babies hurt or sick and know you’re not able to do more than you’re already doing. It hurts even more to see your husband go through the same pain you are. It had started off as a fever for poor little Everly, but as a mom of three, you thought you knew exactly how to handle fevers. After all, Arabella had fevers as a baby and so did James. But this fever wouldn’t drop despite every technique you applied. You’d been near tears when you’d called Jake on the phone and told him you were loading the kids into the car to take your baby girl to the hospital.

“I’ll meet you there, Sweets,” was all he said before hanging up. Thankfully the hospital ER was mostly empty, but you weren’t expecting to hear that she’d have to be admitted to the ICU. By the time Jake blasts through the doors at the end of the hallway, hair mussed and khakis creased, you’re already working yourself into a panic attack. Arabella and James are on one of the waiting room sofas, James with headphones in his ears and Arabella reading a book. But you’re at wits end. The worry, the ever-present worry and panic that resides in your diaphragm and has ever since you gave birth to Ari is roiling. You’ve been cataloging everything you did and running your actions over and over again in your mind.

Jake takes one look at you, tugs you out of the older kids’ earshot, and wraps you in his arms.

“It’ll be alright, sweetheart. The doctors will help our Evie girl.” His voice is a rumble in his chest as you sob with your head over his heart.

“B-but what if it’s something I did? I-I can’t lose her, Jake. She’s only four months old. She’s our baby.” Jake’s lips are gentle against your brow as he kisses your head.

“Nothing is going to happen to our baby, sweets. She’ll be back to our giggling, bouncy mischievous baby girl in no time.” You sniffle even as you nod, stepping away to take Jake’s hand in your own.

His wedding band is smooth against your palm, the metal shiny and worn after years of wearing it every day. You fixate on the feeling of Jake’s hand in yours and focus on hoping that Evie will be alright.

“Captain and Mrs. Seresin?” The doctor’s voice brings your worry back to the forefront of your mind.

“How’s Everly doing, Doctor?” Your voice is tremulous as Jake wraps an arm around your waist.

“You’ve got one strong little girl, Mrs. Seresin.She’s just got a regular run of the mill viral bug, probably something she caught from her siblings. Some fluids here in the hospital tonight and a round of the medicines we prescribe and she will be back to herself in no time at all.”

Your sigh of relief goes unheard as Jake finishes speaking to the Doctor and leads you into the hospital room. Evie’s so tiny in the crib, her rambunctious fists and feet still. Your fingers are light as you brush her honey blond tresses off her forehead and kiss her little brow.

“You’ll be alright, baby girl. Mama and Daddy are right here waiting for you to wake up, okay, darling? We’re right here.” Jake’s voice is hushed and gentle and rough like he’s holding back tears.

You curl your hand around his collar and kiss him, pouring all of your love and relief into the kiss.

“She’s going to be alright, Jake. Our baby girl’s going to be perfectly healthy soon.” He blinks back tears before kissing you again soft and slow, ignoring Arabella’s tween sounds of disgust at her parents kissing.

Want to request a Kiss and a pair for me to write? Guidelines are here.

Want to see other Kisses I’ve written? Here’s the full Masterlist.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader

[jerzwriter]

Simple Pleasures

What are the Carricks doing this Valentine's Day? Waiting on their little one and loving each other. And no one could capture the moment quite like Aianna! 💗

I'm sending a huge thank you to @lucy-268 for gifting me a commission from @/artbyainna for my birthday. I was so incredibly excited to create this - and since Kathy is my fellow Tobias stan - I hope she loves it as much as I do! You are the best, Kathy! 💗

Simple Pleasures 💗💗💗

Book:                   Open Heart (Post Series)

Pairing:                Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey Carrick)

Featuring: Ethan Ramsey, Sienna Trinh

Rating:                 Teen +

Warnings: SLIGHT sensuality at the very end

Category:            Valentine's/Domestic Fluff

Words: 2,000

Summary: Tobias is driving himself crazy trying to create the perfect Valentine's Day for his new wife and momma-to-be. Meanwhile, Casey forgot about it until the last moment, then worried she couldn't make it special. Luckily, they heeded good advice from friends and went on to enjoy a beautiful evening together.

A/N: Since Kathy was kind enough to gift this to me I merged in a prompt she requested: having sleepless nights because they can't think of the perfect gift. I'm participating in @choicesficwriterscreations Valentine Event. @choicesflashfics - prompt 1 in bold below. @choicesholidays - Let's have a baby. @choices-february2023 Day 9 - "Maybe I'm Amazed", and lastly @choicesmonthlychallenge "To Be" luv you, hubba hubba, I'm urs,

An unexpected snowstorm had blanketed Boston overnight, and no matter how accustomed residents were to this, it didn’t make the morning commute any easier. Still, being a doctor didn’t afford Tobias the luxury of staying home. So his inability to sleep finally worked to his advantage. He marched into the team's office with time to spare; it may have required the two cups of java he carried in each hand, but somehow, he made it and was awake. A double win.

Ethan raised cocked his head in the direction of his almost comatose friend.

“Good morning,” he chirped, in a tone far too cheery for Tobias to take.

“Mmmh.. yeah,” he mumbled without enthusiasm.

“You know, you should consider moving a little closer to the hospital. Especially with the baby on the way. If you were in my neighborhood, you probably could have tacked on an extra thirty minutes of sleep, even in this weather.”

Tobias was all but sleeping, so Ethan’s advice went unheard. Looking to ensure no one else was in earshot, Ethan upped the ante. He knew would get his friend’s attention.

“Plus, if you moved, you and Casey could run home for your little afternoon rendezvous. Then I wouldn’t have to field complaints from your neighboring offices.”

“Mmmm,” Tobias mumbled, resting his head on his hand, his eyes beginning to shut. "That's nice."

Ethan was concerned. There is no way Tobias would pass up a verbal sparring match after that. Undeterred, he tried one more time.

"... and then I dropped my trousers during the middle of my speech, swiveled my hips, and shook my skin snake for the audience to see. They were quite impressed.”

"Hmmm... oh, that's good...." Tobias muttered.

"Really? I thought discussing my skin snake would get your attention.”

"Wait… your WHAT?" Tobias startled.

"Finally! What has you in such a daze? I haven't seen you this quiet, well... ever."

"I haven't been able to sleep...it’s been over a week now.”

“Well, with Casey going into her third trimester, I’m sure sleep is more difficult for her, and you’re bound to be impacted, but….”

“But she’s sleeping fairly well… better than me if we’re being honest.”

Ethan scrunched his brow in concern. “Has something got you worried?”

Tobias chuckled as he ran his hands down his weary face. “Well, I don’t know. My wife's pregnant, we have a baby on the way… I’m constantly worried about both of them. Then, I’m going to be a DAD in a few months. A Dad? Me? Can you believe it?”

“It's a horrifying thought. This is why I’ve always supported certification and licensing to be a parent. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way.”

That seemed to awaken Tobias, who shot back. “Screw you, Ramsey.”

“You don’t want to screw me, Tobias,” Ethan laughed. “But, seriously, you’ve been jumping out of your skin with excitement about this baby from the moment Casey learned she was pregnant. So what has you so rattled now? Is reality setting in?”

“No. I can’t tell you. You’ll judge me.”

“Probably,” Ethan confirmed. “But I’d still be here for you.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Tobias sighed.

“Valentine’s Day? I hate to compliment you, but you seem to have had a knack for nailing that holiday down since med school. Now, you have a pregnant wife who adores you, so what do you have to worry about?”  

“Because I have a pregnant wife who adores me. Casey, she’s… she’s everything. She’s given me so much, and now I see what she’s going through to have our child. I want to make this special for her, and nothing I have thought of is good enough.”

A small smile tugged at Ethan’s lips. “Tobias, it’ll be fine, and it’s not worth losing sleep over.”

“I was talking to my Ma. She said I could go to the vault, maybe get a piece of heirloom jewelry….”

“OK, slow down….” Ethan interrupted. “Now I see the problem. Vivian is an amazing woman, and I know she means well. But now I understand why your brain is going haywire. Tobias, Casey is more of a homemade cupcake than an heirloom jewelry person, you know that.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Tobias smirked. “She seems to enjoy my family jewels.”

“Annnnd he’s back,” Ethan laughed. “Seriously, don’t put so much pressure on yourself. Casey will be happy just spending time with you.”

“Kerry said, too.”

“So your two best friends vs. your well-meaning but…”

“Insane mother….”

“You said it, not me! Just keep it simple and get some rest tonight. Can you do that?”

“I’m sure gonna try.”

~~~~~

Back at Casey & Tobias’s townhome, Sienna fixed her best friend a cup of herbal tea and brought it to her on the couch when it was done.

“I really could have gotten that myself, Si,” Casey insisted. “But I do appreciate it.”  

“You could have, but not while I’m here. Your doctor said you need to rest when you’re off duty, and I’m making sure that you do!”

“Mmm,” Casey said, sipping her tea. “You sound just like Tobias.”

“Good! This way, I don’t have to kick his butt.”

“I’m glad you approve of my husband," Casey teased.

“You know I do,” Sienna smiled. “He takes such good care of you, I would have believed it when I first met him.”

Casey beamed as she took a moment to reflect. “You know, he is the man he always was. He just needed….”

“You!” Sienna grinned.

“Yeah, and I needed him too.”

“You two are so adorable! What have you got planned for Valentine’s Day?”

“Oh, shit!” Casey exclaimed. “I completely forgot! It’s tomorrow! Now I won’t have time to do anything special.”

“Define special? All you really need is each other.”

“But I wanted to do something really nice for him. I always get so frustrated because he’s impossible to buy for. The man has everything.”  

Sienna snorted, earning her a peculiar stare from her friend.

“What?” Casey asked.

“Isn’t that how you ended up doing the boudoir shoot for him? And isn’t that what led to….” Sienna’s cheeks turned red as she pointed to Casey’s rounded belly. “That was one hell of a gift!”

“Yeah,” Casey giggled. “Jackie will never let me live that down. But you have to admit, I succeeded. I got him something he loves, and I gave the man who has everything something he never had before.”

“So, then your Valentine's Day gift is taken care of already!”

“That gives me an idea!” Casey enthused. “I did buy a teddy bear for him last week and some of his favorite chocolates… and you just made me realize I have the final touch.”

Sienna scrunched her nose in confusion. “If you say so. I’m glad I could be of help.”

“You always are, Sienna. Now, I need red paint!”

~~~~~

Valentine’s Day arrived at the Carrick's, and the delicious aroma of steak burritos filled the air. Tobias was overjoyed as he watched his wife delving into the meal he prepared. The way her eyes shut, and the noises she was making... she usually reserved those for different activities... so he knew she was happy, and that made him happy, too.

“Mmmm,” she hummed with a full mouth. “These are so good!”

“Only the best for my girl. Besides, I know my burritos make you happy.”

Casey pulled the fork from her mouth and smirked. “Are we still talking dinner here?”

“We’re talking whatever you like,” he chuckled. Leaning across the table, he gently tugged her head toward him, their lips meeting in a tender kiss. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Eager to get the rest of the night underway, he began to clear the table. “So, where do you want to have dessert and open gifts? In the living room or upstairs?”

“That depends. What’s for dessert?”

“I made homemade cupcakes and got us a vintage bottle of sparkling cider.”

“Ooh, trying to get me tipsy,” she quipped. “It’s nothing messy, so why don’t we go to the bedroom. But, T, promise me you didn’t go overboard on gifts.”

Tobias raised one hand in the air. “Scouts honor! I swear! Ma tried to convince me to gift you some family jewels, but I told her we were keeping it simple…” then his heart sank when he saw Casey begin to pout.

“Really?”

“What? Would you have liked… I could always still get you something… I just didn’t think….”

“Tobias,” Casey winked. “I’m teasing. Besides, my favorite Carrick family jewels are already right here in our house.”

Shaking his head in laughter, he let out a little moan scooping his wife up in his arms.

“You see, MacTavish….”

“Uh, that's Carrick, thank you very much!”

“Oh, that’s right, that’s right! Give me some time, baby; it’s only been three months.”

“Mmmm.”

“But seriously,” he smiled. “This is why you’re my perfect match? I’d never want to be married to anyone but you.”

“Good, because you’re stuck with me!” She took his hand and placed it atop her swollen belly. “Well, with us.”  

“And that’s why I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

~~~~~

Casey rushed upstairs to finish preparing Tobias’s gifts while he gathered dessert. She put a red, heart-shaped box of candy on his nightstand and sat a teddy bear, wearing a pink t-shirt… just like hers… at her side. Then she hiked the front of that shirt up to under her breasts to expose the rest of his gift, finishing just as he walked in the door.

“What the….” Howling with laughter, Tobias needed to place the tray of desserts to the side.

“Please tell me you’re laughing because you think this is adorable, not ridiculous,” Casey asked with pleading eyes.

“Do you even have to ask ?” He slipped into bed at her side and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “So,” he put his hand over the big red heart she painted on her belly. “Is this my Valentine?”

Casey nodded impishly. “I’m making it just for you. Well, and for me, too. I’m making it for us… and your Mom… she’d kill me if I didn’t include her… and my parents but… but mostly you.”

“And it's the best gift you could ever give me.”

Leaning over to his side of the bed, he pulled up a bouquet of red roses and put them in her arms.

“I’m afraid my gift pales by comparison.”

“Nonsense! You know I love roses.”

“Hey, I got you chocolates too!” He beamed, offering her a large, fancy box.

“Even better,” she squealed, eyeing the teddy bear in his hands. “Oh! And you got me a teddy bear? I got you a teddy bear, too!”  

“Hey, slow down there, greedy,” he teased. “Don’t be so presumptive! The candy and flowers are for you, but this little guy, he’s a gift for our little girl.”

“We don’t know that it’s a girl.”

“I do!” he beamed.

Casey looked at the tiny brown bear holding a big red heart. “Aww… it says I love you! It’s perfect!”

“Do you want to give your bear to the baby, too?” he asked.

“Oh… oh, no…” she chortled, handing him his bear. “I don’t think that would be good.”

“I’m Horny!” Tobias exclaimed, his eyes crinkling as laughter echoed off the walls. “Really, Casey?”

“Well, I am! I mean, sure, we still do it more than the average American couple….” She started as her husband lowered his lips to her neck.

“That’s why people are so grumpy,” he breathed.

“I agree! But... we have been a little tired lately... with me pregnant and you never sleeping... so while we're still ahead of the average, we're not living up to our personal best, and that leaves me a little...."

Tobias stopped kissing her just long enough to answer. “Horny?”

“YES! But now you see why the baby can’t have this bear.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “We’re gonna pass on that."

He swopped back up and kissed her lips as he gently pushed her back onto the bed. Her hands moved up his muscular chest, then wrapped behind his neck as he eagerly explored her every curve. Relishing his touch, Casey tilted her head back with a faint whimper, which left her husband smiling with delight.

“You like that, baby?” he hissed.

“Mmmm….” was all she could manage.

“Then I think I have one more gift for you tonight.”

“Does it involve the family jewels?” Casey giggled.

“You better believe it!”

“YES!” She blurted, raising a fist in the air. 

Laughing uncontrollably, Tobias fell to her side and cupped her cheek in his hand.

“You know, the word ‘love’ doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what I feel for you.”

“And I feel the same way about you….” Casey purred. “Now, do I need to pull my bear out? Or are you going to give me that last gift you were speaking of?”

Tobias's eyes were bright as he slipped his hands under her shirt, eagerly pulling it over her head.

“With pleasure.”

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @crazy-loca-blog @differenttyphoonwerewolf @doriopenheart @fayeswiftie @genevievemd @gryffindordaughterofathena @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks @openheartfanfics

OH Tags: @annfg8 @binny1985 @coffeeheartaddict2 @mysticalgalaxysstuff @parisa-kh @queencarb @wanderingamongthewildflowers

Tobias: @icecoffee90 @kyra75

@openheartfanart

#choices fanfic #open heart fanfic #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #tobias x casey #valentines fics #valentines day #choices fanart #playchoices fanfic #playchoices fanart #artbyainna #domestic fluff #fluff #open heart choices #open heart #choices open heart

[nutzo0001]

june travelogue - TA(L)KING FOR GRANTED - 0/25, 30/5/24

got idea - maybe it was daydream - about this very topic... i(t) was thinking out of nowhere - maybe i am idiot, or just censoring myself... because now, - bolts on my head - but i mean, wasnt this (except for data grab and so...), the reason why internet on which [we are] here, but to discuss [taboo]s!? now when, let me start, - we can argue later (in comments)! here here! what got me prompted, was idea - "men feel weak/useless - and so does/seems Mankind contra ["Rotten apples"]!" "Rotten apples", in quotes; had no better comparison, naming, and it quite fits [the reasons]. it, to me, points to [this; problem]; where, - to say - we are more comfortable, it is easier - to [throw away] rotten apples - than to take care of main issue, - our luxury and comfort, - that it is to [eat it] on the right time; to not forget (to care about ourselves too...) - and to not "miss forest for the trees", to say... (**) to "Men feel weak" - it is an nod to all Rogan, Tate and Peterson broskis Manosphere, who [slurp from] use inceldom, - turning desperation, basic needs (compassion /***) and call for help, into weapon. (prime example of) Rotten apples. - it is easier to militarize vulnerable ones with propaganda cheap promises and "tricks", than to admit, "yes, 90s were Woman decade never to be left alone; we (men) are sorry that when you are man, then all you do, is to be taken for granted (on that basis alone; when women turn "men", manhood, on basis of purpose, starts to lack behind...), no matter how left alone and unheard; maybe even silenced, you might feel!" (tl;dr: "to be born = to owe <pardon>") and other things we take for granted (dont worry, this is not cry-to post) :

#it's common sense #common sense #a priori #comfort trap #men mental health #june #travelogue #blogging #creativewriting #blogger #blogs #take for granted #millenial-net-utopia-2010

[coraleethroughthelookingglass]

Ten Year Fic Favourites

As I mentioned in previous posts, last week marked the ten year anniversary of me posting fic online so as a way to celebrate, I thought I’d put together a little list of my favourite pieces that I’ve written over that time.

2013 - Heart (Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Rated G, 7 Chapters, Fairytale AU)

Only a true champion and an act of love can bring back one lost to the snow and ice.

My very first challenge fic, this was written based around Hans Christian Anderson's The Snow Queen (and I think was posted around the same time Frozen came out - and after the multiple times I’d read the original, by the time I saw that film, I was highly disappointed in it)

2014/2015 - From Winter to Spring (Series, Modern AU)

Rush Hour Crush - (Dacey Mormont/Robb Stark, Rated T, One Shot)

Returning to work after Christmas may bring the same rush hour problems for Dacey but it also proves to be a little more interesting than normal due to the red headed man she quite literally runs into.

Sugar Plum - (Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Rated T, One Shot)

Sansa has jitters before performing in The Nutcracker in front of one of her idols, Olenna Redwyne-Tyrell. Luckily Margaery is there to make things better.

The first fics I posted that weren’t for Jaime/Brienne, both are just very fluffy and sweet. The first is a meet-cute, the second more of an established realtionship.

2016 - 33 (Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Rated T, One Shot)

A Westerosi Battlestar Galactica AU mashup. One of my all time favourite things that I’ve ever written.

2017 - Found in Forbidden Nights (Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth/Cersei Lannister, Rated E, One Shot, Canon Divergence)

And my other all time favourite thing I’ve written, which feels very strange to say given that when I wrote this the GoT fandom was plagued by shipping wars and a threesome with these characters was almost unheard of. I feel very proud that I challenged myself with this fic and came out the other side a better writer.

2019 - Carry on My Wayward Son (Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Rated T, One Shot, Modern AU)

The Jaime and Brienne hunt monsters in the Supernatural universe fic no one asked for but I really wanted to write anyway 🤣

2020 - All Veth’s Fault (Caleb Widogast/Jester Lavorre, Rated G, One Shot, Modern AU)

My first, and so far only, step into Critical Role fanfiction, this is a Caleb/Jester meet cute at a modern day music festival. It came after a long period of writer’s block and was something that came together very quickly.

2021/2022 - El Tango De Rose (Rose Tico/Armitage Hux, Rated G, One Shot, Modern AU)

Written slowly during my pandemic writers block but not posted for a long time (since I’d psyched myself out of posting at that time), this is a Dancing with the Stars/Strictly Come Dancing AU where Hux is partnered with Rose and has to learn to dance the Tango.

2022 - Poison and Wine (Galadriel/Sauron, Rated T, Part One of Exiles)

My first Haladriel/Saurondriel fic written for this prompt by Scriberated - So… *awkward silence* who’s going to write the fic where shit goes to shit and in desperation Galadriel agrees to marry Sauron to save what’s left of middle earth? This was honestly meant to be my one and only fic for this pairing but clearly I was only deluding myself as I’ve written so much more since!

2023 - The Decurion’s Wife (Galadriel/Halbrand, Rated E, WIP, Roman Era AU. Part of the Time and Time Again Series with my amazing friend @somebirdortheother)

And this brings me right up to date as I’m currently working on chapter 4 of this Roman Era AU. This is the one fic I think I’ve done the most research for and it has been an absolute delight to learn about so many things about Roman Era Britain and the lives of soldiers and civilians up on Hadrian’s Wall.

The likelihood is if I’m still writing in another ten years I’ll have found other ship(s) to explore (or who knows, maybe I’ll have actually written a novel!) but for now this is what I have. And through all the inspiration and writers block, all the tears and laughter, I really couldn’t have kept going without all the love and support that each fandom I’ve dipped a toe into has given me. I know writers say this a lot, but for anyone who’s ever felt weird in leaving a comment on anyone’s fic - please don’t! Even two or three words can mean so much. And that kudos email makes me smile every time I see it. It’s a little thing but it means a lot. I love you guys and I think after ten years, I can confidently say - I AM a writer 😊😊😊😊

#the joys of writing #ten year anniversary #jaime x brienne #sansa x margaery #dacey x robb #game of thrones fanfiction #critical role fanfiction #caleb x jester #trop fanfiction #halbrand x galadriel #sauron x galadriel #most of my weird AUs altogether #thank you to everyone who’s gotten me to this point

[unbloomingmoonflower]

Mangst Prompt 3: You Don't Remember, Do you?

I'm late AF lmao. Using this as an excuse to write angst for my JJK oc x canon ship because I'm an angst whore and their story within their canon is angsty anyway.

Mangst Prompt Post here

Everything was blurred between light and shadows. Her eyelids felt so heavy, like a weigh was upon them, yet it also felt as if every signal in her brain was commanding her eyes to open. Upon the heels of her burdening consciousness, was the instantaneous impact of *pain*. Everything from her neck down was on fire.

Even breathing was agonizing.

"Sana?" The voice calling to her was so familiar, one she'd heard so many times before--but not like that. She'd never heard that voice sound so...broken before.

She'd never heard Gojo Satoru sound so broken before.

Sana was aware of the pressure to her hand, her vision still swimming in and out of focus, as she tried to flex her fingers. Pain shot from the tips and it took everything inside of her to not whimper. Not when her throat was in burning pain too.

"Sana, can you hear me? Do you know where you are right now? Do you remember what happened?" Satoru's voice was still so broken, yet softer than she had ever heard it. And by the gods, she wanted to answer him so badly. She wanted to answer so he could stop sounding like that.

But her throat was still burning in agony; even trying to make some sort of sound felt that her throat was being ripped apart.

Ripped apart...

Her body tensed, her fingers curling around what held her hand so tightly. As if it remembered something, something so brutal. Yet her mind was in a sea of fog, drifting, as she was in pain with every breath she took.

The pressure to her hand tightened and there was more grit present in Satoru's voice. "You don't remember, do you?" The way he said those words, Sana knew it was rhetorical; it was clear to Satoru that she couldn't recall what happened, much less find awareness for where she was.

Her ears buzzed at the addition of another voice: Geto Suguru, Satoru's best and closest friend. "Satoru. She still needs to rest. I know that you're anxious, but remember what Shoko said..."

"I know what Shoko said," Satoru bit out, the venom in his voice unheard of before--especially when talking to Suguru. Sana knew that the tone was the very last one Satoru would take with his closest friend.

What happened to her? That was the only question on her mind and one she couldn't even muster the strength to ask. Sana had never felt so weak before and the fact that helplessness was creeping into the deepest depths of her heart was bringing with it the cold grip of despair.

Satoru must have noticed this; the pressure on her hand was gone, yet his voice held no inflection of emotion as he spoke. "Get some rest, Sana. I'll be back soon."

That's when Sana's vision slowly ebbed into focus--and the last thing she saw was Satoru's back as he walked out of the room without another glance.

#moonie writes #mangst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru x sana #satoru gojo x oc #angst #i was late to this and hello me and angst are like pb and j