#no creative juices were flowing

[andejoe]

No one wanted to ask. Someone had to. It was terrifying. But it made sense.

Of course humanity finally abandoned its planet. Everyone was surprised they hadn’t abandoned it sooner. Still, the concern was there.

What made humanity abandon their planet in a mass event? What thing was finally found to scare them off their favorite death world?

Of course not every last human abandoned the planet, but enough did that Earth was no longer considered ‘inhabited’. Humans flocked to other worlds, most choosing death worlds with similar biomes to the ones they preferred. (And there was a suspiciously armored ship heading towards Disney planet.)

The concerning thing was the humans kept going back. Never landing. Never breaking the atmosphere. Just driving by.

Finally, a delegate was chosen to ask the human council member. Poor Laeri was nervous, but they had been called friend by council member Daryl before. Surely this question wouldn’t be an offense.

“Daryl, may I speak with you a moment?”

Daryl paused, and nodded, careful not to smile. He was well practiced in the art of not offending. “Of course Laeri. What is the matter?”

“Humanity has recently applied for habitation permits for a dozen planets. As soon as the permits were awarded, humans left very quickly.”

“Well sure. The permits took three earth years to be approved. Most of the planet had been preparing for over five years at that point,” Daryl explained.

“Yes, that is not my question. The question is why?”

“Why were they ready?”

Laeri shook their head. “Why did they leave Earth? Humans have made it a point to ‘stick it out’ despite better options being available. Why leave now?”

“Oh, that. Well.” Daryl paused. He knew he didn’t have to report officially yet, but his friend wanted to know. “Will you keep it a secret from the council?”

Laeri paused. The answer being a secret did not occur to them. What could the humans possibly be hiding? Would they be able to hide it as well?

“I do not think I can keep any dangerous thing a secret,” Laeri finally admitted.

Daryl nodded. “Nor would I ask you to. It’s not dangerous, just a little experiment more like.”

“If it is an experiment, then you should speak with-“

“No Laeri.” Daryl interrupted calmly. “This isn’t something we want help with. That’s why we haven’t mentioned anything to the Viyon Academics. We just need time to see if it works.”

Their curiosity finally got the better of them.

“If what works?”

“A new society. A new civilized species.”

Laeri didn’t speak, but either from awe or concern, they weren’t sure. Daryl continued.

“We believe a species evolves when they start to take care of their injured and impaired. It means they have compassion. Well an intelligent species on earth has been observed showing compassion. We simply want to give them the space they require to evolve.”

Laeri considered the intelligent species that lived on earth. They were suddenly very concerned. Had the humans been duped?

“The dolphi are showing compassion?” Laeri asked.

Daryl almost laughed. “Not even close. No, we wouldn’t break the agreement we made. They’re not escaping earth anytime soon.”

Laeri felt immediate relief. “Then which species is it?”

Daryl smiled. He couldn’t help it. He liked birds. “Corvids.”

“But, but they’re so small.”

“We know. That’s why some humans are still there, zoologist types to help them grow, learn, and show them the way.”

“What if another species wipes them out before they get the chance?”

Daryl shrugged. “Well that’s why we left some warriors behind, to help keep the corvids alive while they grow. And of course to keep the dolphins contained. We do take that assignment very seriously.”

Laeri was excited now. Another avian species may be joining the galaxy soon. They wanted to tell everyone.

“Promise you’ll keep the secret?” Daryl asked.

Laeri felt their excitement dash upon the cruel rocks of reality. “I will.”

“Good. Here.” Daryl held out a small computer drive.

Laeri took the drive. “What is this?”

“The live feed of the experiment. You really think we wouldn’t watch? As soon as they reach civilized status, I have to report them. Until then, they’ve been completing some very complex puzzles and problem solving lately. You’ll want to start at the beginning but they post new information all the time.”

Laeri clutched the drive to their feathered tunic. Suddenly the small drive was priceless. “I, must go now.”

Laeri took off as fast as would be ignored by others. Daryl watched his friend, surprised by how excited they were. His watch gave him an alert.

“Ooh, a group puzzle. Wonder if they managed it this time.”

Daryl walked off to his own private quarters to watch the newest update on the corvids.

#humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #humans are dumb #sorry I’ve been gone so long #the writing thing just wasn’t happening #no creative juices were flowing #but then this one hit me out of the blue #hope you enjoy

[natasha-in-space]

Hi! I noticed that your requests were open and I really love your writings! I was wondering if possible could you do a Jumin and Saeran x reader (separately) Soulmate AU if you can? It’s fine if not but if you do thank you! And I hope you have a good day/night!

So, funny story: this was supposed to be done by the start of this week! Turns out I love the concept of soulmates way more than I originally thought, so I hope you don't mind this being pretty long ':D

Jumin

Soulmate concept: You have a mark of the first letter of your soulmate’s name on your wrist.

Jumin never liked looking at the small single-letter mark that was forever etched onto the underside of his wrist. It's not that it looked weird or unpleasant to him, quite the opposite actually. It was almost frustrating just how perfectly it fit in there, no matter how hard he would try to ignore it. No, the reason why he would always cover his wrists up with long-sleeved business suits was that he absolutely refused to accept the idea of a soulmate. At least, in a traditional sense that his father would explain it to him.

And how could he not? With the way his father would latch onto anybody whose name began with that cursed letter that was embedded onto his wrist, the idea of doing the same was borderline sickening to Jumin. In some ironic sense, by trying to find your soulmate so desperately, you would lose all sense of authenticity in your relationships. It was all about finding that so-called 'the one'.

Why would he care about that? He had Jihyun: his childhood friend of many years with whom he shared countless of precious memories to reminisce about. His memory was so precise, he could write an entire book about their friendship if put his mind to it. He had Rika, before tragically losing her along with everyone else in the RFA. If there really was such a thing as a soulmate, he thought Rika was the closest thing he ever got to it. Her name did not begin with the same letter as the one that could be seen on his wrist... But, he foolishly hoped that her real name would surprise him. Rika was the first woman in his lifetime who saw the tangled mess of threads that he had so meticulously hidden away in the deepest parts of his conscience. She saw it. And, she accepted it.

Of course, Rika was happily engaged to another. His precious best friend, nonetheless. The last thing Jumin would do is ruin the happiness of those few he holds dear. He's not his father. Besides, he has Elizabeth the 3rd. She's all the company he needs at the end of a particularly stressful day. She never judges him, and she would never go somewhere he couldn't find her.

He was fine with his current life.

By the time you came into the picture like a hurricane, Jumin was certain he would go through his entire life without worrying about that mark ever again. Surely it was just a coincidence that your name began with the very same letter as his mark. And, of course, your lovely personality and good heart were the only reasons behind his growing attachment to you the longer you two talked through your first days in their organization. What else could it be? You were a thoughtful and compassionate person. That's all there is to it.

Oh, how mortified he was when he first saw your uncovered wrist with the visible 'J' etched onto it.

You were asleep at the time, looking way too adorable for your own good as you curled into your blankets like Elizabeth the 3rd would often do as well. He didn't mean to look. Truth is, he had no idea what pushed him to gently take hold of your hand and gaze upon your wrist.

There were a lot of things he couldn't understand. And you were in the center of it all. He wanted to understand you. He wanted to understand the strange and captivating effects your every action would have on his conscience. And... most of all, he wanted to understand his own heart.

Maybe it's because, much like Rika once did, you saw the tangled threads of his heart: weaved together so tightly, it was practically impossible to discern where each thread would begin, and where it would end. He stopped trying to untangle them a long time ago. But, you were different from Rika. Ever since you met him face-to-face, you started trying to untangle those threads of his. With every kind word of yours, with every caring touch and patient gaze, you would gently detangle each tiny knot one by one. And, what shook him most of all is that...

It didn't hurt.

Was it really you helping him figure out his own detached heart, or were you just motivating him to search for those answers on his own? Jumin didn't know. All he did know at this very moment, as he stared at that single letter visible on the soft skin of your wrist, is that he felt strangely... hopeful. Just because both of your names fitted the letters of your soulmate marks didn't mean anything... It could be a mere coincidence. And yet, he couldn't logic his way out of this. Not anymore.

"Jumin...?"

He almost jumped as you suddenly opened your eyes and looked up at him with a groggy look crossing over your features. Damn it. He shouldn't have disturbed your sleep like that.

"I apologize." He swiftly let go of your wrist, absent-mindedly rubbing his fingers together without even thinking about it. "I didn't mean to wake you."

You let out a small sleepy groan, slowly sitting up in bed as you let your blanket clumsily fall from your shoulder. He tried his hardest to ignore the unfamiliar warmth in his cheeks as he took in your slightly disheveled appearance and drowsy eyes.

He wanted to touch your hair... Was it soft? It looked soft. Even when it was all messy like that.

"What were you looking at?" You asked, shifting your attention to your wrist. Some part of him wanted to change the subject, but no words came out. When was the last time he found himself so frozen on the spot? You momentarily met his gaze, a sense of understanding flashing through your eyes. Ah, so clever, as always. "Oh... Was it this?"

You caressed your soulmate's mark with the tip of your thumb, a thoughtful hum emitting from your throat. For some reason, this one simple action made his breath get caught in his throat. Before he could even think about it, Jumin reached out with his own hand, gently taking hold of your wrist again. You didn't seem to mind, just raising your eyes back up at his face as he crouched down in front of the guest bed. He let out a breath. "Yes. I just..."

He trailed off, not really knowing what he wanted to say. He decided to change the subject instead.

"...Do you believe in it?"

"In what? Soulmates?" You asked, sounding a bit puzzled as you tilted your head to the side. He drummed his fingertips against your wrist, finding this action to be oddly comforting.

"Yes."

A moment of silence passed, one that felt way longer than it actually was. Finally, you shrugged. "I don't deny it... But, It's not like finding a soulmate is all that matters in life. I'd like to believe that I will find my soulmate, whoever it is, once the time is right. Until then, I will focus on flourishing in my own way."

The smile you gave him made his chest fill up with ticklish warmth. You were truly such an admirable person. He couldn't help but be so very enamored by you. You shone so brightly, both on your own and with other people around you. Your heart was open to the world, but it was strong enough to sustain you independently. You didn't need anyone to be fulfilled, but you knew the importance of meaningful connections, and you cherished every single one of them. In Jumin's eyes, you were perfectly imperfect in that way.

"Do you believe in soulmates, Jumin?" You brought him back from his thoughts with your question, one of your hands now lightly pressing atop of his. Almost like you were testing the waters. He let it stay there.

Still, your question made him suck in a breath and look away, despite his every cell practically screaming at him to keep on looking into your eyes. "...I don't know. I never understood why everyone around me was so obsessed with finding their soulmate. My father would jump at every person whose name would begin with that cursed letter, no matter what it meant for me or anyone in the company. I think... love should be voluntary, not forced on you by some invisible force."

He could see you nodding out of the corner of his eyes. And then, he felt your thumb gently caressing the palm of his hand, this single touch making him shiver. God, what were you doing to him...?

"You have a very good point... But, I don't think a soulmate bond means that you will instantly be head over heels towards each other." You mumbled. Your words made him pause as he mulled over your point of view. Eventually, he turned back to look at you, feeling more comfortable discussing this touchy subject. He wanted to hear your thoughts. Talking to you was always so insightful and comfortable. Another thing he appreciated about you.

"Then... What do you think it means?"

You hummed. "I think... It just means that this person is your perfect match. But, this doesn't mean that just meeting them is all there is to it. You still have to learn and grow together... work on loving and understanding each other one step at a time. Does this even make sense?"

Another long pause followed as he let your words sink in for a moment.

"What if... I was your soulmate?"

Saeran

Soulmate concept: When one soulmate feels pain, the other does too

Your soulmate had to be the saddest person on this entire Earth.

It started out from such an early age, you were sure your parents were deeply concerned for you at the time. For as long as you could remember yourself, you felt it. Your soulmate would get hurt almost every day, and you had no choice but to adapt to it. At first, you were confused, upset, frustrated. And, who could blame you? You were just a kid. You couldn't possibly comprehend what you were feeling or why. You just knew it was bad, and you didn't like it.

At first, you were angry.

While your parents explained to you the concept of soulmates in the simplest way they could to someone so terribly young, you still found it so very unfair. Nobody around you seemed to struggle as much as you did. Maybe one of your playmates would suddenly start crying over an uncomfortable burning in their knee, or a stomachache, but... for you, it was very different. You felt uncomfortable and sickly almost every day. And, you had no choice but to adapt to it, whether you wanted to or not. All you could find solace in was the comforting touch of your parents as they would share a worried look, while you would curl up on their lap, whimpering about feeling so hungry and thirsty, but not actually wanting to eat or drink yourself, because it wasn't your hunger or thirst you were experiencing.

With age, came understanding.

As you grew up, you learned about how the soulmate bond would work in a more complex way than what you thought of it before. You understood that your soulmate was hurting. That they were probably very sad. And unable to do anything to change that. Your anger was replaced by sympathy. How could it be that your soulmate was growing up like this? How can that be fair? Or unchanging for so many years? You found yourself being very careful about getting hurt as you grew up. Your soulmate was already in so much pain... You didn't want them to suffer any more than they already did.

And then, came acceptance.

As years passed by, you learned a certain pattern of sorts. You learn to work around it. You learned to expect it. Your soulmate would get hurt every other week it seemed, although you couldn't really figure out if someone was hitting them, or they just were very unlucky in terms of coordination. In your teen years, something new came. You hated when something new would happen. You couldn't really figure out what it was. It was dizzying and confusing, almost like having a very mild migraine of sorts, but very far from it all the same. You would feel your head get all foggy, your throat tingling like you accidentally swallowed something very hot and spicy, and your stomach would feel achy and uncomfortable for the entirety of that day. You didn't like when that happened. But, it was something new you had to get used to now.

Just when would they finally stop hurting...?

Soulmates would share their pain with each other. It's something that was supposed to bring comfort and solace to those suffering from it. Knowing that, no matter how hard it would get, they were never truly alone. That sentimental concept, however, would shatter completely once you start thinking about other things than just mundane types of pain a perfectly healthy human being would deal with. You knew you were not alone in your predicament. Lots of people shared the similarities of your situation. But... it didn't make it any easier. Of course, you would never be able to feel the direct pain your soulmate was going through. It was just an... uncomfortable dulled out reflection of it.

When your soulmate would get hit, you would feel a sharp jolt in that same area, making you stumble a bit. Sometimes, it would even knock the air out of you, particularly whenever your soulmate would get hit in the chest. Every few months, your scalp would itch uncomfortably, making you huff and curse as you tried to ignore the irritating burning feeling the best you could. It reminded you of that one time you accidentally used too much bleach on your hair in an unfortunate hairstyling accident. You wondered why it reminded you so much of it. Surely your soulmate wouldn't fry their hair off every single time they wanted to dye their hair, right?

With how observant you've grown over the years, it didn't take you long to realize that Ray was, in fact, your soulmate. Actually, you figured it out on the third day of your stay in this place. It was obvious. Your head would ache annoyingly at the same time as him mentioning a migraine, and your fingertips would itch as you saw him nervously biting at his gloved fingers when he thought you weren't looking. That, topped over with the way you felt naturally drawn to him, made it fairly clear what was really going on here. Still, you decided not to bring it up with him.

Not yet, at least.

You cared for Ray, both because of him being your soulmate and because of your genuine affection towards him. Your affection, however, never clouded your logic. You knew that he was hiding something from you, that there was more to this place than he let on. And... you weren't sure how he would react if he found out about your soulmate bond to each other. He seemed rather attached to you... Sometimes, it was sweet and lovely. But, sometimes, it would make your heart ache as you wondered... just what did he have to go through to think so lowly of himself? To grow so desperate for companionship?

Desperation would often lead to rash decisions. Which is exactly why you were being patient. You would tell him, eventually. You just needed him to trust you more, and you wanted to grow to know him on a deeper level. You wouldn't leave his side, of that you were certain.

But... things didn't quite... went according to plan.

Yesterday, you accidentally tripped over the carpet and hit the edge of the bed with your hip quite badly. You wouldn't be surprised to see a huge purple bruise on that very same spot, to be completely honest. Surely, Ray felt that. You felt a bit bad for causing him this discomfort. This is exactly why you were being extra cheerful to him on your walk through the garden today, trying to conceal the way you would occasionally limp once you put your foot in the wrong way. It wasn't painful or anything... but, it was uncomfortable. Sadly, Ray didn't seem to buy it. Or, at least, judging by the worried look in his piercing mint eyes.

He suddenly stopped walking, just staring you down, a whole mix of conflicting emotions swirling in his gaze, making it hard for you to distinguish what is it that he was feeling at this moment. It made you a bit nervous, quite frankly. But, you tried not to make your soft smile falter. "Is something wrong?"

"You're hiding something from me."

You blinked, a bit taken aback by just how blunt he came off. He didn't sound angry or suspicious per se... You couldn't really figure out what he was thinking. You haven't seen Ray like this before. Or, at least... without him trying to hide it. You let out a breath before giving him your reply, picking your words carefully as you did. "What do you mean?"

You could see him pursing his lips, his fingers twitching as he mulled over his thoughts. He seemed a bit frustrated. Like he didn't really know what he wanted to say. It definitely made him look a bit paranoid, and you couldn't blame him. "I just... Please, you must tell me if there's something on your mind. You must. You trust me, right?"

...Did he not know the reason behind his suspicions himself?

"Of course I trust you... Ray, is something bothering you?" You tried a softer approach, hoping to get to the source of this.

He darted his eyes around the garden, not really focusing on anything in particular. Yeah, he was definitely feeling nervous. "I don't... You didn't answer my question. You're not hiding anything from me, are you?"

It seems like both of you were just going in circles. But, what else could you say? You were starting to feel a bit confused yourself. What was this about, exactly?

"Not that I know of... Say, how about we talk about this back in my room? Maybe we'll figure something out. I don't like seeing you so nervous."

You didn't mention the fact that there would be fewer ears listening in on your conversation in there. Either way, he seemed to consider your suggestion before nodding and offering you his glowed hand, which you quickly took.

"...Yes, that sounds wonderful. Thank you, Y/N." He gave you a small but genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat for a moment. He looked so pretty when he smiled...

But, as your thoughts drifted somewhere far away, centered only around Ray's delicate facial features, you completely forgot about your hip. One clumsy step and you instinctively winced, quickly placing your foot into a different position. This, however, made Ray freeze again, his hold on your hand tightening. You didn't know whether it was due to him automatically trying to hold onto you in case you would trip, or... Well, the other option concerning that special bond of yours.

"...Are you hurt?"

This time, it was your turn to avert your gaze. You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly. "Ah, it's... it's nothing. Just a bruise."

"A bruise?"

Oh, God, he sounded rather... intense. You didn't know how to respond to that. You felt him take a step closer, your breath getting caught up in your throat as he did. "Where is it?"

...Should you tell him? That didn't sound like a question, more like a demand. You hesitated, unsure whether or not you should just make up some excuse. Was this really the right time to reveal that you were, in fact, his soulmate? You didn't know. You weren't ready for this turn of events at all.

"I, uh... It's nothing. I just tripped over the carpet yesterday. It's not serious, I'm just a bit sore." That was vague enough, but truthful nonetheless. You hoped your answer would suffice. Judging by the deeply troubled look on Ray's face, your hopes wouldn't be met.

Geez, he was acting like you broke your leg or something!

"Let me see." His grip on your hand tightened again as he took yet another step closer, bringing your bodies together in a way that was definitely beyond just colleagues or friends hanging out. You gulped. Again, he didn't sound angry, but... firm. A side of him you were not used to whatsoever. Still, strangely enough, it made your cheeks burn. Especially when you remembered where this bruise was exactly.

"N-no..." You shook your head, averting your gaze from him nervously. Well, there's no winning this. You'll just have to come clean. You certainly did not want Ray to get even more paranoid than he already was. "It's... It's on my hip, alright? So, it'll be... a bit embarrassing to show you, if you know what I mean."

A choked gasp was all you heard, his fingers quivering where they grasped onto your hand. Did he figure it out? You were too anxious to ask.

"Your... Your hip? You said you... you got this bruise yesterday?" He muttered, sounding both nervous and hopeful at the same time. He gently nudged you a bit closer, tilting his head to presumably take a look at your eyes. "Please... Please look at me, okay, Y/N? This is... This is important."

Of course it was important. You swallowed, feeling your heart picking up the pace as you did turn to meet his gaze. Honestly, it made your knees feel weak with just how many emotions he was looking at you. He looked like he was about to cry or laugh, or faint, and you were not sure which one of these options he would take.

You decided to just be upfront about it now. "...Did you feel it?"

His eyes widened, another strangled breath falling from his lips as he began to tremble, overwhelmed with so many different emotions. You didn't have to spell it out to him. It was obvious. This time, it was your turn to hold onto him. You had no idea what would happen after you utter those words... But, you knew there was no way around it. You were meant to meet one another. You were determined to see it through, no matter what secrets this boy kept hidden in his heart.

"You're my soulmate, Ray."

#mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #jumin han #han jumin #mystic messenger jumin #jumin x reader #ray choi #saeran choi #choi saeran #mystic messenger ray #ray x reader #BOY did i not expect to sit on this writing nonstop for like 2 or so hours a few days in a row #in a good way! #my creative juices were flowing! so to speak #also did i write jumin stimming? yes yes i did and i will do that again #OOF time for my fingers to rest #also a bit of danger ray? #more likely than you'd think!

[thecrowperson]

Kaidou manga panels I like: (pt 71)

Patterns: feat. Hairo, Saiki, Nendou, Teruhashi, and Toritsuka

From: vol 4 ch 38

#saiki k #tdlosk #shun kaidou #kaidou shun #kineshi hairo #hairo kineshi #kusuo saiki #saiki kusuo #riki nendou #nendou riki #kokomi teruhashi #teruhashi kokomi #reita toritsuka #toritsuka reita #as you can see the creative juices were not flowing when I was coming up with a title

[pocket-ozwynn]

Offline Valor: Chapter 3

[Borrower!AU]

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Next Chapter: Chapter 4

Word Count: 3874

CW: blood, mentions of death, light adult language

Not two minutes after being called a ‘titan’ and Zelly had nearly fallen on her face. She’d been so caught up in trying to make it out into the hallway, that somehow she’d stumbled over her feet. She choked back a bark of profanity as she clutched the chilled can of Baja Blast and braced herself against the wall. At least she was out of sight from Rowan.

She felt the rising need to scream. This was insane.

She shook her leg until one sandal flew off, then did likewise with the other before hurrying off towards the opposite end of the house. Hopefully that would give her enough privacy to vent some of her anxiety without totally unnerving her diminutive guest. Her feet thumped across the cool hardwood as her mind swam with noncoherent thoughts…

Wonder and worry mingled caustically as Zelly hurried Rowan in. And while she couldn’t deny the quiet marveling she had carrying this finger-tall man in her hands, there was also a certain degree of horror and concern. He felt so frail. His breathing was shallow and his muscles faintly trembled as he spent the last of his energy just staying awake. And when he slipped into unconsciousness and nearly fell out of her hands, she was run through with a fresh spike of anxiety. She couldn’t ignore how delicate this life she held in her hands was—like flickering embers of a dying flame.

She made a mental checklist of what to do: first, she’d need to stop the bleeding; second, she’d need to get his core body temperature down; third, water. Rowan was bound to be dehydrated, so she’d need to make sure to get him a bottle cap full and make sure he sipped.

As she got the kitchen sink going, she noticed something. It was a little thing–literally–but she noticed his hand. The palm was upturned and the fingers were slightly curled…

His hand looked just like hers.

After staring for perhaps a beat too long, she shook herself from her stupor and gingerly laid the Borrower out on the countertop. Carefully pinching the front of Rowan’s shirt between her nails, she ripped it twain with an effortless tug. The sight of a red-slick chest was all too familiar to her as she peeled back the halves. With lips pursed, she tugged the ruined tunic and microfiber cloth-turned-cloak off and set them to the side before gathering him up once more to examine the man closer.

Zelly’s eyes widened slightly as she examined him. Not because of the blood, but rather because of how much more worn and strong his body was than she first thought. Rowan had been covered up before, but now she saw the pale scars marbled into surprisingly lean muscles.

And that burn. Not the sunburn (that thankfully was contained to everything above the neck), but rather the second degree scar tissue that went up from his waist to armpit—it covered a huge chunk of his right side. What had done something like that? If that was on someone her size, that would’ve been an utterly massive injury that would’ve called for immediate hospitalization. But for someone like Rowan, it could’ve been anything she might’ve considered mundane…a grill? A firework? Had it been an accident, or something more cruel? She couldn’t consider the possibilities—she had to focus.

Step one, stop the bleeding. She briefly tested the faucet’s flow before gently bringing his body over so the tap water would flow over him like a cool waterfall. Zelly examined Rowan as she carefully washed him, her eyes scanning every detail of his chest for any signs of injury. And as the light refracted off of the glistening skin as she cradled his body in her fingers, she couldn’t help but wonder what life was going to be like after she turned off the sink.

She found the source of the bleeding after getting him washed off. It was a diagonal cut roughly the size of Rowan’s hand that ran across his breast.

Thankfully, it was largely stitched up with the bleeding only coming from the sternum-ward side. It looked like a few stitches had popped. And while she couldn’t be sure what caused that in the first place (Chu Chu maybe?), her mind was caught up with who did the stitches in the first place. Rowan? Or someone else?

Thankfully the treatment was easy enough. His blood coagulated fairly quickly after she applied pressure on the wound with the tip of a clean kitchen towel for about five minutes. From there she applied some Vaseline, then—with the smallest band-aid she could find, which was still huge in comparison—she wrapped the band-aid as best as she could, then got him settled into a shot glass filled with cool water to get him started.

And yes, the shot glass was a stupid idea. But hey, it worked.

Wood turned to carpet as she reached the living room. She fumbled with the pull tab on her soda as her hands uncharacteristically shook. After a few moments of losing the fight to her Baja Blast, she finally cracked it open on the third anxious lap around her living room. She took a drawn out swig and savored the fizzing lime as she allowed the last ten minutes to sink in.

God, what the actual hell, Zell, she silently lamented. She still felt the imprint of Rowan—the sensation was burned into her memory: a full-grown man breathing shallow, ragged breaths as he lay unconscious in her pal-

“Okay, so tiny men just-” Zelly exhaled through her teeth. She tried violently shaking the feeling from her hand, as if it was covered in fire ants. “-EXIST now? Great, cool, good!!! Nothing insane about THAT, right?!”

With no one to respond to her exasperated query, she took another defeated swig. She silently wished for a stronger drink, but she knew better than to consider that when she was dealing with a patient. She chugged the rest of her drink, set it on the nightstand, then threw herself onto the couch. She buried her palms into her eyes as she just groaned.

Before stepping out of the kitchen, Zelly had left Rowan with a Gatorade cap filled with water. It had been comically large in comparison, but it was clean water that he could drink and that’s what mattered. Food would be next, despite his insistence. 

But what came after that? 

A familiar, useless feeling percolated at the corners of her heart, and she had to be careful not to let it overwhelm her again. But thinking realistically, she was just some idiot streamer right? What was she going to do to help this weathered warrior, aside from putting a band-aid on his chest and getting him a bowl of ramen? 

God, her eyes were just…Opened now, weren’t they? That terrified Zelly. As an EMT she saw a lot of gruesome things that she could never unsee, but she eventually grew desensitized to it. But Rowan and these Borrower (she still had no idea what that meant) had been living right under her nose this whole time…how many were there? Were there other things like fairies that were real too? And all of those scars on his body…were those by accident? Or did someone inflict those upon him?

“You’re spiraling, babe,” Zelly noted quietly to herself as she felt the anxiety rising. She needed something to keep her busy. And while she sorely doubted there was a WikiHow that would help her reconcile her new reality, she still wanted to give it a shot.

So she fished out her phone and frantically typed with it held above her face at arm’s length. First she searched for Borrowers—that’s what Rowan called himself after all, so it seemed appropriate to start there. Nothing came up, though she wasn’t really surprised. She screwed up her lips and tried Little Men next, but only an old-as-dirt book from the 1800’s that apparently was the sequel to Little Women. Interesting! But still useless.

No matter how hard she searched, she couldn’t find anything that matched Rowan’s description. She tried Googling fairies, leprechauns, Pikmin, tiny-little-elf-men…

Nothing.

And while she got close, everything she found missed the mark (though it didn’t help that she would find herself aimlessly scrolling through Instagram without realizing it at times). Her anxiety now mixed with frustration. Surely she couldn’t really be the first person to meet a Borrower before right? The weight of that implication was too much for her to really consider–she never asked for that burden of responsibility.

Zelly racked her brain for more possibilities. She hadn’t tried pixies yet, right? She was three letters in, and a migraine began to blossom right behind her eyes. A string of colorful swears tumbled past tired lips as she stopped typing. 

“This is pointless,” she murmured to herself. She kept her phone lifted as she closed her eyes to just try and focus on her breathing. She could hear the distant squawking of a mediocre marching band, the splashing of unseen cannonballs, and the laughter of children amidst the anxious yells of fretting parents.

Why did it have to be her?

Before Zelly could bemoan her fate further, her phone vibrated and slipped through her fingers. It dropped and smacked her square in the face—a nonsensical cocktail of profanity and anatomical slang was her only response after a brief yelp of surprise. She sat up with a humiliated huff before answering the phone.

“S-Sup?” Zelly ran her fingers through her hair and prayed she could keep the nervousness out of her voice. She hadn’t even checked who’d called her anyways…

//Hey babe!// It was Nikol. //Sup? You okay?//

“Yup,” Zelly lied with a smile. She knew she couldn’t be honest with how she was really feeling, but her reality was too insane to admit at the moment, “Toooooooooootally fine. What about you?"

There was a pause. //Oh, cool! I was worried. Are you still comin’? I thought we were grabbing Starbucks?//

Realization hit Zelly like a truck. Nikol was the whole reason she found Rowan in the first place—her silly little “mental illness Starbucks trip.” It was the reason why she was able to save him from the jaws of her neighbor’s cat.

“Oh shit, I-” Zelly gasped. “Dude, I TOTALLY spaced! I’m so sorry!”

She chewed her lip as she entertained the notion of telling Nikol.

On the one hand, Nikol was her best friend—Nikol knew EVERYTHING about Zelly. But on the other hand, she couldn’t violate Rowan’s privacy. That poor man had clearly been through a lot. And while she did trust Nikol to keep a secret, it didn’t feel right to talk about Rowan without his consent.

“Something came up,” Zelly replied as guilt gripped her gut. “S-Sorry baby girl. I hate to bail on you like this, I just…have to take care of something. Rain check?”

//For sure, no worries. Do what you gotta do. Just let me know if you need anything, ‘kay?//

Zelly licked her lips, her heart beat heavily in her throat. “Y-Yeah, for sure. Thanks dude. I’ll, um…I’ll text you when I can, alright?”

//Sounds good. Mwuah.//

Zelly echoed the affection before hanging up. She let the phone drop to the floor before ruffling her hair with a restrained groan.

Now what?

—

Zelly held her breath as she peered around the corner back into the kitchen. There was a 50% chance the guy just bolted while she was away (wouldn’t be the first time), but to her surprise Rowan hadn’t left.

Since she’d been gone, he’d climbed out of the shot glass and hung his boots to dry along the rim of the glass. Meanwhile, the man knelt quietly on the countertop with his head bowed and eyes closed. Unlike Zelly, Rowan was remarkably calm–which was shocking, given how much worse his day had been in comparison. Sunlight poured through the kitchen window and washed over him as he held his microfiber cloak reverently in his hands.

She caught herself staring again. 

Zelly tried to keep her approach deft as she crept into the kitchen, lest she startle him. She spied his ruined shirt and a teeny satchel over by the obnoxiously bright orange Gatorade cap she had filled with some water for him to drink while she was away.

The closer she got to him, the more she found herself marveling again. And she wasn’t sure why.

“H-Hey,” Zelly croaked as she finally got within arm’s reach. She jumped as Rowan scooted back with a start, his eyes snapped open with wild surprise—he dropped a hand and went for one of his thumb tack daggers. When he saw it was Zelly however, his demeanor shifted. He took the cloak in his lap and in a single, fluid motion threw it around his shoulders and wrapped it in such a way that it fell like an impromptu poncho to cover his scarred chest.

“S-Sorry!” Zelly took a step back in reply, her hands raised. “I didn’t mean to startle you!”

“N-No no,” Rowan murmured bashfully. “The apology is mine, I would have covered up had I known you were there. I was just, ah…”

His voice trailed off before he cleared his throat. “Never mind. Forgive me.”

“You’re fine dude,” Zelly chuckled softly. “It’s not like you’re the first guy I’ve seen shirtless, so…”

Rowan didn’t reply. She wasn’t quite sure if he was spacing out or still feeling the fatigue of the heat exhaustion, but he still didn’t look great. When was the last time he ate? Originally she came in ready to learn all about him and his world, but now…that didn’t seem nearly as important.

“How hungry are you?”

Rowan looked up with bleary eyes. “Sorry?”

“How hungry are you?” Zelly repeated with a raised eyebrow.

Rowan looked somewhere between confused and conflicted. After a pregnant moment of hesitation, he shook his head. “‘Twill be alright. I-“

“Yeah that’s bull,” she teased. She realized that might’ve come off a bit harshly, but she didn’t back down—she knew she was right. “Do you have any allergies?”

Rowan looked bewildered. “No, but I-“

That was all she needed. With a nod, Zelly grabbed her phone and pulled up GrubHub. She leaned up against the counter, but kept Rowan visible right in her periphery. “Swag, I’m ordering Greek then.”

“W-What do you...?” Exasperation crept into Rowan’s voice as he moved to stand. He couldn’t even finish his question, he seemed too tired to bother, “But please, Miss Zelly, you do not have to worry about me. If this is too much of a hassle, rest assured I am fi-“

“It’s not a hassle.” She flashed him a smile as she got their order put together: two Deluxe Gyros (one lamb, one falafel. She wasn’t sure if Rowan was a vegetarian or not), some fried pita served with a couple sides of tzatziki sauce, and some sweet potato fries. Most of this stuff would be MASSIVE compared to him, but she hoped it would be a nice spread of some mild food that Rowan could pick at while also making sure he didn’t eat himself sick.

“Besides—” Zelly dropped down slightly so she could be at eye-level with Rowan. He took an instinctual step back, but he didn’t seem overly surprised by the sudden motion. Then, with a dramatic flourish, she hit the order button, “—the order’s been placed, they’ll be on their way!”

“I…do not understand,” Rowan furrowed his brow, looking from her to her phone. Borrowers probably didn’t have phones, huh? Well, that was a question for another time.

“Look dude,” Zelly huffed after noticing his conflicted expression. “I’m starving. And if I’m starving that means you sure as hell are. You can try and be big, tough, macho-man or whatever, but there’ll be plenty for both of us. And I’ll feel a lot better when I know you’ve eaten, okay?”

Rowan seemed to sense that this wasn’t a fight he was going to win. “Thank you, Miss Zelly. I appreciate your generosity. Though I do feel guilty…”

Zelly put a hand up on the counter and grinned. “Well don’t then, that’s stupid. I’m offering you food.”

“You wanted answers, correct?” Rowan asked. “And I promised not to leave before I gave them, but I did not mean to impose and force you to provide food.”

“First of all, I wasn’t forced,” she pointed out. “Second, I mean…yeah. I do have questions. But they can wait.”

Zelly pursed her lips. She could spy the burned tissue peeking out from what his cloak couldn’t cover on his chest.

“You’ve been through a helluva lot,” she breathed, her gaze returning to Rowan’s. “And I want to help—even if it means getting us some takeout. So yeah, don’t worry–I can wait.”

Rowan’s expression was conflicted. There was frustration, but the exhaustion seemed to outweigh it…and even for the briefest of moments, he looked grateful. Zelly smiled.

This she could do.

…

…

Basil was disgustingly sober.

Were it not for his fast, he would’ve been nursing his brewing frustration with a frothy pint. The day was blistering, and the prospects of good work were few. Clip had gathered some scavenging listings from the Carvers League in town, and the rest of their crew had split off for the afternoon. 

Wanting to get out of the sun, the pair ducked into The Lively Priest. And though Basil quietly hoped he could relish in the second-hand revelry of others, he was met with the sleepy, boring atmosphere of a handful of farmers and travelers just looking to grab some shade and water. They’d grabbed a corner table and he’d been forced to settle on iced water while Clip barely touched his ale. 

The Freewalker’s mind wandered as he tuned out the insistent rustling of leaflets as his companion did his research. He peered over the scrawny Borrower’s shoulder to see if he couldn’t find a little entertainment. There was a trio of merchants from the Cherrycliffs who had come in not too long ago who were just sitting at the counter silently signing to one another. Closer towards the entrance, the chef spoke with a baby faced courier who wore the colors of House Silver.

But what really caught his attention was the waitress.

She was a beautiful, ageless Faofolk with literal porcelain skin and curves chiseled in all the right places. She glided gracefully, her feet clinked against the wooden floor as she moved. She was a pretty little dancer, and Basil was confident he could get her spinning to his new tune.

The rustling stopped.

“No.”

Basil sneered, his eyes snapping back to Clip. His partner knew what was on his mind, and it made his blood boil. “Do your job.”

Clip sighed as he peeled back from his papers and splayed both hands. “I am–in fact, I believe I found myself doing BOTH of our jobs. Sometimes I feel like I should be in charge of the crew–you barely do jackdreg while I’m the one stuck doin’ all the REAL work.” 

Basil picked up his empty plastic mug and tipped it back. The teeny trickle of melted water did little to whet his appetite, so he took up a bit of ice and chewed it.

“Skies yer annoying,” was the best retort the giant of a Borrower could muster. “Just read the damn papers and get us somethin’ GOOD this time.”

“The last job was good,” Clip insisted with a pointed glare. “300 notes got us three meals, yeah?”

“The last job was sifting through bodies,” Basil’s lips curled back with a sneer. He leaned back till his chair groaned beneath him. His skin crawled as he remembered the stench of the dead and picking bloodsoaked pockets. “I want somethin’ with riches–not whatever skuggin’ cud Ash was suckin’ on.” 

“Careful for how you speak of the dead,” his companion warned him as he picked up his own mug for a careful sip–the ungrateful man didn’t even seem to enjoy his drink. “Clan Ash was snuffed out violently, I doubt their spirits are at peace…”

Basil ignored the superstitious warning. “Listen, I wanna snag a BIG job this time! I wanna rub shoulders with the ELITE like the Silvers and Blooms–not with the molderin’ dead and mumblin’ priests.”

He swirled around the crushed ice as he mused. “How ‘bout a job with arcana? Courtiers pay good for that junk, right?”

His companion’s expression turned grave. Clip took a longer sip on his spirits this time, “Nothing good ever comes from titanis arcana, boss–and you know it.”

Clip shot a careful glance at Basil’s empty mug of ice. “‘Sides, don’t your people have taboos on even touching it?”

Basil’s blood boiled as his stomach growled. He slammed the mug down–a faint crack spidered up the side. It caused enough noise to prompt the Faofolk waitress to jump and shoot him a glare. Despite his infatuation prior, the Freewalker now had little care for the brittle woman at the moment–Clip had poked the hornet’s nest.

“Like I care what the ‘Walkers think,” he spat. “Who cares about skuggin’ taboos when you could eat? Tell me bud, when was the last time you ate? Not crust, not rat–but ate REAL food?”

Clip hesitated.

“Exactly,” Basil replied with a huff, his syllables coated with crushed ice. “Harvests ain’t yieldin’ what the use’ta, and the Crown’s taxes are drainin’ us dry. …I say we go big. Just cuz arcana is a bitter dreg for some, don’t mean it hasta be for hardworkin’ guys like us–know what I’m sayin’? So how ‘bout we get on that cricket first, and snag a big payout while we can?”

The seconds ticked. Eventually, Clip sighed. “Well…there is one job we could try…” A crooked grin split across Basil’s face.

“Adda boy,” the Freewalker rumbled.

Clip carefully rummaged through the pile before drawing out a surprisingly clean piece of paper. He gave it a once over before pushing it towards Basil with his fingertips. It had pretty, useless filigree along the edges and a picture which Clip tapped.

It was an unremarkable piece of arcana: a thin, boring rectangle. And while the diagram indicated it had a sheath that could slide back to reveal yet another, smaller square hidden inside, he sneered at how shockingly simple Titans could be.

“‘S’all?” Basil demanded. “What the Sky’s shite is that suppose’ta be?”

“The Faofolk call it a Youesbee,” Clip shrugged. “Dunno much beyond that…only that some newly wedded noble wants one, and he is willin’ to pay a queen’s coffer for it.”

“How much we talkin’?” Basil huffed. “I know of some pretty poor queens…”

“Fifteen hundred notes.”

Basil balked. “Bullscrap.”

Clip shook his head. “Like I said…queen’s coffer. Dunno what is so important ‘bout it—but he wants one. Now the trick is finding one… ’s’not something you would find just anywhere.”

Basil tapped his finger against the mug. His mind swam with ideas of where to look, but one particularly colorful and bright domain stood out. He’d seen plenty of arcana there before…

“I think I know a place,” he smirked. “Get hungry, bud–we’re eatin’ good tonight.

#g/t #giant/tiny #sfw g/t #g/t writing #sfw g/t writing #wholesome giantess #gentle giantess #The Borrowers #Borrowers!AU #Borrower x Streamer #Offline Valor #ogtoc Rowan #ogtoc Zelly #HA I don't care if it's midnight imma post this NOW #this is still on a technical hiatus #but the creative juices were flowing enough that we got to this point<3 #also we HAD to introduce The Goons eventually #so meet Basil and Clip<3 #wonder what this Youesbee thing is huh

[the-holy-ghosted]

nobody sends me asks about breekon and hope like they used to

#tma #breekon and hope #voice from a pure black void #those tags next to each other. whiplash #i miss when i was popular for this #erin and i were Discussing Them this afternoon and now theyre on the brain. if the creative juices are flowing enough... i may Create...... #in the meantime though! im going to pilferthrough my blog for posts. i am deprived i need inspiration

[jeonqkooks]

Do whatever your heart tells you

that was so fast, that post was up for less than a minute i think asdfkgjk. thank you 🥺 i'll sprinkle some love onto my other babies that haven't experienced the spotlight in a while <3

#i was gonna make a long rambling post about this but i might just do it in the tags here #so i was reading a really nice feedback for strictly platonic this morning and ofc i went back to quickly reread the fic #i had a good time writing SP. like my creative juices were just flowing so naturally without me trying to force myself to write #altho there was a period after the fic was released where i genuinely disliked it so much that i cringed every time i saw it in my notifs- #but we're not gonna talk about that bc i overcame my SP hatred and i like it now lmao 💀 #ANYWAY! i think SP was the fic that kinda helped me develop a 'style' ?? which i felt so good about #and then i subsequently lost it bc for some reason i started comparing myself to every single writer i came across lmao #so i have a profound discontentment with all of my writing from august to at least december and maybe even now #so idk i guess i've been trying to find that 'style' again #that certain je ne sais quois (i deserve to be punched just for saying this 💀) #and i think i'll have to look beyond obs for that bc i've been focused on just obs for last few months so everything feels like it's just- #blending together #like i had a relatively pleasant time writing obs4 and it's not the same #idk this doesn't even make sense 💀 and it sounds v dramatic and i'm sorry that i'm a dramatic person when i'm left to my own devices 💀 #sooooooooo yah idk #anon #answered

[yaolmao]

Had the greatest art plan ever.

I have a problem where I fixate on a particular character/person, and not even bother give anything else the same amount of attention. Which is quite sad considering being into hc means there’s so many awesome creators and I don’t even bother to draw them as much as my favorite hermit(s)-

So my plan is to just draw all the hermit members and watch their videos as I go through em alphabetically. I’ll get inspired by their skins and other associations of their channels and even fanon concepts; it’ll totally not backfire on me.

The number one plan is to get this doneeee hmmmm before my school year ends. I’m a very slow drawer so this will take a while, but I wanna dedicate my time watching these people more lmao.

#I watch a lot of the hermits but I’d like to put out of my creative juices flowing for other hermits and not just tongo tak here. #i love tango a lot but I can never draw him the way I want to like ever #so I guess I’ll consider this whole project a warm up of some sorts #i also just overall wanna see how the other hermits were doin while I got attached to the redstone man

[rikisradirarara]

hello! just was wondering when you last updated, and if you were updating famille? i don’t mean to rush you or anything like that.

Oh hello!!! To answer your questions the last time I updated Famille was back in 2021 when the year had just started so in January and from then on I did actually start working on a fourth chapter! As you can see from a post I made a while ago I did actually lose interest on writing Famille and had hoped for myself to continue the story this year- overall I proceeded to lose even more interest in aidan gallagher and tua and while I have watched the new season (in fact I will rewatch it soon) and enjoyed it my main focus isn’t really on creating or proceeding Famille, that’s sort of something I’m deciding to close and maybe I will continue writing it but for the time being it’s not something I’m interested on starting up again. I’m sorry to disappoint but Famille is truly not something I’m planning to spend more time on and i’d rather focus my time and energy on writing stories for people and characters I’m more interested in right now. Thank you for asking and being interested in Famille tho! I’m glad people have enjoyed it so far!!

#wow that was unnecessarily long- #and even tho i haven’t written in a while ik its gonna be difficult to start that up again #overall starting famille was fun! and the creation of the chapters posted so far was really fun and I enjoy rereading them even now! #but posting thise chapters with not an actual backbone to the story and just going with the flow was essentially a kinda bad idea on my part #I’m in no way responsible enough to have my hobby of writing be such a constant thing in my life and my creative juices are always running #low #and yeah tbh I shouldn’t have even posted the chapters but back when i was a big fan of aidan gallagher there wasn’t enough interesting and #good content for him so I decided to turn my self inserts into x reader fics and so far I’ve decided not delete them because there’s still #a good few people every now and then who are interested in the story i started and i created so far #going off that again I’m so sorry for not continuing it but ik it’s best if I didn’t strain myself to continue something I’m not genuinely #interested in #i know it would also not be fair towards the people who have read so far and the first few chapters were made with actual care and the rest #being just thrown together quickly and in a bad way yk? #parker talks #asks for parker

[debbiechanclub]

Okay, I had a bit of writer's block trying to figure out piecing together the new chapter 3 of TMHWMP, but I finally got it worked out. I'm hoping to get it posted before the weekend is over... if not though, it'll be next week.

#it also didn't help that my creative juices were flowing for man in the blindfold but yanno #that will be out soon too hopefully

[vampirecatboy]

what if i took Rhys and made him a cowboy outlaw

he's still extremely scottish but

yeehaw ye wee cunt

#stuff and things #elsie was made to work in a saloon in one of those pretty dresses #and erin is like peak horse girl energy #it would definitely give me a solid aesthetic for him #because i really struggled figuring that out for him before #give him a sheriff's deputy love interest #trans of course #i'm cookin #i'm really cookin here #rhys knew him back when they were teenagers and the deputy was still presenting female #and he doesn't recognize the deputy when they encounter each other again but the deputy recognizes him ohohohohoh #and he had a thing for rhys but then rhys fucked off to do crime #and he comes back and deputy confronts him #and then something happens deputy pulls the bandanna down from his face or he gets really up close in rhys' face #and rhys suddenly realizes who he's talking to #ahhhhhh I'M COOKING #i had a good week so the creative juices are flowing lol #redd's grave

[starslite]

best time of my life was when i watched musical animatics on youtube at 4am on school nights back in 2014-2019

#i would listen to these songs on repeat #i will never feel that amazing high of daydreaming while spinning in a desk chair again. straight up my form of a drug #like i still do that but man the creative juices were FLOWING much more back then

[mercuryislove]

last year was unintentionally the year of sonam and I have recently decided that 2024 must officially be the year of ciaran

#i wrote like 100k words just about sonam last year and i must do the same for my favorite boy ciaran. #you know what that means. time to write a bunch of GAY SEX #YIPPEE!! #oc talk #for real though any time i feel a creative slump i sit down and write graphic violence or gay sex #really gets the juices flowing as it were.

[autumnalsteahouse]

Writing when I should be sleeping because I have a 9 hour shift in like 3 hours :D

#I Go sleepies now— the creative juices were flowing but now I’m concerned #I’m tired but… not?

[honeykaes]

sorry for albedo's being so short compared to the rest, I don't know why but the brain was flowing for the rest of the scenarios haha.

but lemme know your thoughts! I think these are the best headcanons I've written in awhile.

I'm about to update my "chai's greatest hits too" so while I do that please keep me posted on feedback!

#—​kaeyatic krambles #me saying I will post this on the weekend #me doing it now sdkjfhksdfh #the creative juices were flowing lol

[signedkoko]

Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!

I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3

🦷 anon

Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]

In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.

One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping

Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you

Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts

The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar

Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else

The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe

On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look

But this time, the guy would just not get the hint

" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "

Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly

Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand

That's when the bleeding starts

You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door

Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot

You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake

A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen

But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch

Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak

It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone

The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed

Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh

" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "

That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon

" I'm only worth one finger? "

" Nah. Just being generous for once. "

Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked

Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off

He usually goes for the latter

He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'

You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles

Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended

During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip

" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "

Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms

" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "

Jealousy 3000

He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees

New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy

Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #mammon #mammon x reader #vox #vox x reader #husk #husk x reader

[angel-of-the-moons]

Aggravating

Dad Bod!Miguel x Spider-Woman!Reader

TW/CW: Smut. Smut in general. NSFW, PIV sex, office sex, teeth, hints at venom useage, a bit of pining(?) feelings! Body hair! Soft tummy Miguel! Dom(ish)!Miguel, a bit of bullying

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Blame @cupcakeinat0r for this. I really needed the distraction and our conversation is helping me a bit getting the creative among other things juices flowing!

Taglist: @tojishugetiddies

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

You had been... less than covert about the way you ogled your boss. On one hand, your Spidey mask was useful for hiding your eyes and face away from somebody's view; on the other hand, Miguel just somehow knew you were staring at him.

And... yeah. At first you were crushing on him, a young, single fresh-faced Spidey welcomed into a bigger picture suddenly comes face to face with the body of a Greek god. He swooped in to save you from a variant of Kraven before he could make a possibly fatal swipe.

After that, he admitted that he'd had an eye on you, such a promising candidate who just needed the right amount of guidance.

(The fact he has that gorgeous jawline and cheekbones that could cut glass plus those jaw-dropping eyes of his certainly helped you make your decision too.)

But you had been too much of a wimp to ever fess up, instead settling for pining in silence, throwing the occasional stare his way at his perfectly globed ass. (Seriously, did he purposefully design his suit to accentuate his ass or what?)

But the plain, flat-out ogling didn't begin until he began to gain more weight. Realizing his stress didn't have to be solely on his own shoulders, Miguel began to relax. He began to eat more, sleep more. Or, well, as much as a normal person should be eating and sleeping. You surmised he was likely dehydrated a lot, too...

Because once he picked up a steady diet (of what you didn't know, maybe he was a secret chef in the kitchen in addition to having the multiverse's greatest brain?) he began to look... healthier.

He gained weight, his formerly slim and perfectly cut abs and waistline began to fatten out, gain a delicious softness you wished to just lay your head over, or perhaps snuggle and squeeze.

Peter B made a joke to Miguel about comparing "dad bods" and god, when Miguel indulged him (mostly just to get him to leave him alone) he used his tech to have the top half of his suit vanish in rainbowy spiderweb-like patterns until he was naked from the waist up.

And... fuck. Your legs went weak at the sight of him.

Dark wisps of hair across his chest, spreading down his soft, plush-looking midsection to disappear beneath the waistline of his pants.

Even with that soft belly, Miguel looked built like a shitbrick house. Peter B had pouted, knowing he'd lost his little game before sauntering away, bragging about something along the lines of "well at least I have the prettiest baby mama in the whole multiverse!". Good for him, you had thought.

But very quickly as your eyes greedily raked up his frame, you realized he had been staring right back at you.

You very quickly rattled off some excuse and dropped off your report on your most recent mission, yanked your mask back down your face and scurried out of there.

Though you'd be lying if you didn't immediately shove your hand down your pants once you got home, playing with yourself at the mere thought of being pressed up against Miguel's soft-yet-imposing frame; feeling his dick (oh you just knew he was packing a monster, down there) stuff you full and stretch you out, the coarse dark haira brushing your clit with every slam of his hips.

You went to sleep thinking this was merely some kind of office crush, trying to force down the thoughts you had of your boss.

Little did you know, he often stole his own glances at you.

He needed to find a way to solve your little problems, soon.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

"This is what you wanted, isn't it, princesa?" Miguel grunted, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass sinfully loud in his dark office.

Your body was perfectly illuminated by the dim orange lights on his monitors; every curve, dip and deliciously squeezable part of your jiggling ass as he fucked you.

The sounds your pussy made as you swallowed him deep were the most lewd you ever could have imagined yourself making, especially the little sounds coming from those pretty lips of yours.

Your suit has been torn right between your legs, freeing your soaked, swollen folds to his lascivious gaze before he had crammed two heavy fingers into your needy cunt.

Your tits squished against his desktop, and a whimper comes from you when he settles over you, the weight of his body pressing tighter down around you.

You could feel the soft flesh of his belly mold around your back, almost like a hug. Almost like how he had your head trapped in a headlock as he bullied his cock into you and stuffed you full of him.

Your brain was so set on your one-track focus of how good it felt to just have him fuck you, to use you, that you barely registered a word he said.

Having his warmth surround you and fill you had effectively rendered you dumb.

You choked slightly when you heard him hiss in your ear, his sharp fangs grazing the soft skin; he squeezed his arm a bit around your neck and that's what knocked you back into reality.

You were here. In his office, bent over and having your guts reorganized by a man you had been pining for for months.

The pent up sexual tension had finally exploded when he confessed his own interest in you, and he met you halfway with a kiss that was all tongue and need; loud and messy.

Like how he was bullying his cock into your tight little hole.

"My dick that good, bebé?" He panted, leaning back away from you to grip your hips in his meaty palms, squeezing your soft flesh as he stared, almost mesmerized at the creamy ring at the base of his cock as it disappeared into your dripping wet pussy.

Already on the floor between you was a small puddle of your slick.

"So good that I fucked you stupid after just a couple thrusts?" He said, his voice gravelly as he tried to keep it even, to betray the fact he wanted to just rut into you like a mad animal.

All you could do in reply was whine, a breathy sound that was almost a squeak as you mourned the loss of his soft body surrounding you.

The sound of him relentlessly fucking you cunt was abruptly halted and he let out a shaky breath, staring down at you. "I swear... did I nick you with my fangs? Shit... Maybe we should stop--"

"N-no!" You moaned out, desperately trying to roll yourself back against him in his grip. "Please, don't! I just--I just need more!"

Miguel grinned as you flattened your hands on the table, desperately trying to fuck yourself onto his cock but getting nowhere.

"Ahhh there's my good girl. Doing so good f'me." He purred, leaning back over you once again, his arms caging around you, encasing you in his wonderfully soft warmth, the hair on his body tickling your skin.

His lips traced the shell of your ear, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty skin;

"Wanna watch you take my cock all day. Gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a month--"

You made a long, loud mewl as he snapped his hips in suddenly, bottoming out so hard you felt him smash into your cervix; almost making you pass out from the force of it alone.

"This is what you wanted, sweetheart. Jus' giving it all t'you." He groaned, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he began relentlessly pounding into you once again.

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