#you would think it being for a multi would make it easier right

[ja3yun]

Picturesque | P.SH

bf!sunghoon x gf!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (m&f receiving), pet names, fluff, pornography (? sunghoon takes pictures while they do the deed), multiple orgasms, they're sickeningly cute, not proof read, anything i've missed lmk

wc: 4.6k+

synopsis: it's your boyfriend sunghoon's birthday and you want to make it special. your present goes down much better than anticipated.

a/n: hi! it's my best boys' birthday today <3 i know you're all waiting for the next part of tstab but i couldn't resist to post this. its just a one shot because i love him sm and my brain is always thinking about him but esp on his birthday. hope you like it!

You open your eyes to darkness, the only light coming from the orange streetlight outside. Warmth is felt around your waist and down your back as your boyfriend, Sunghoon, sleeps soundly. Looking at the clock you see it read 3.34am. Perfect.

Today was Sunghoon’s 21st birthday. He said he didn’t want a big fuss, simply to have everyone around to your shared apartment for some dinner and drinks. One thing about your boyfriend is that he was a simple guy with simple needs. That didn’t mean you couldn’t decorate the place for him though.

Planning this was a strategic effort even though it seemed simple. Sunghoon was smart, too smart, and if you slipped up even once about your plans he could easily piece it together. It’s not like you were preparing some big extravagant surprise with fireworks and magicians or something, no, you couldn’t even dream of something so lavish. Truth is with both of you being University students with minimum-wage part-time jobs, you were barely making rent. You don’t regret moving in together, it was the right decision, you just wished the government wasn’t filled with incapable idiots and put everyone in a cost-of-living crisis. So you have to make do with what you have, even if you think it’s not enough.

Peeling your lover's arm from your waist you make haste to start decorating the living room. Your flat was small so you had to be extremely quiet, like don’t breathe quiet, but with you and your lack of ability to produce any noise lower than 120 decibels it is going to be a challenge. Sunghoon loved how loud you were compared to his quieter demeanor, making sure to tell you to be as loud as you want and that he would never complain. He especially made this known in your bedroom.

You put on his white shirt from the night before and gingerly shut the door behind you as you vacate the room, leaving Sunghoon sleeping. In your hall cupboard, you had hidden an Asda bag filled with decorations like banners, balloons, and streamers. Their selection of stuff is to be desired and none of it matches but you’ll make it work. 

Looking around your living room with a sigh of discontentment you place all the decorations out on your coffee table. “Okay, where do I start?” Your voice is a whisper as you speak to yourself. “I should start with balloons. Yeah, balloons.”

The balloons you wanted were the big number balloons so you could have the 21 as the centrepiece but the very bitter middle-aged lady in Card Factory made it very clear there weren’t any 2’s in store. What kind of place runs out of 2’s? You had to settle for black, white, and gold multi-pack.

You shut your eyes tight and swallow your breath down as the plastic rustles far too loudly. “Shhh.” A warning to the inanimate object is wasted but it’s all you can think to do. This is going to take a while.

As the morning goes on you’ve managed to blow up the balloons and group them into 3-a-piece, hanging them up on each side of the big window and in the corners. You thought you were a goner when one of the white balloons almost escaped your grasp and started flying around the room but you grabbed it just in time. Checking the time on the clock you see it’s 4.30am. It really took you an hour for the balloons. Banners were next on your list but they should be easier surely.

Grabbing the automne you’ve been using as a ladder you successfully put 3 banners up in 20 minutes. If you had the time you’d celebrate but you still had so much to do before he gets up. “One more.” You place your hands on your hips and blow some hair out of your face as you smile. It’s ugly, it doesn’t match the others at all. The banner is silver with just the letters ‘Happy Birthday’ held together by a tacky white ribbon. You really wish you could do better than this but alas here you are climbing up to situate it above the TV. This is a little trickier since you have to stretch to reach the wall because of the TV unit that sticks out. 

You fail to notice your boyfriend leaning by the doorframe with his arms crossed and a cheeser of a smile on his face. He wanted to see how long it would take you to notice his presence but he thinks he’ll be waiting a long time. You’re too engrossed in your task to even hear his footsteps coming up behind you.

“Babe?” His deep morning voice scares you and you stumble on the automne, almost falling backward. Sunghoon’s eyes widen as he registers what's happening and rushes to catch you. “Shit, Y/N. You okay?” He places one of his warm hands on your backside and the other on your knee, stroking them both gently to make sure you’re okay.

Only your heart was not okay, thumping loudly as a rush of heat spreads through your chest from the adrenaline of nearly crashing into the table behind you. When you calm down you laugh and lean on his shoulder to step down. “I’m okay.”

Now you’ve properly come to you bring your hands to your mouth as your eyes widen. “You’re not supposed to be up this early!” As if it’s his fault you slap his chest and he chuckles in disbelief.

“Sorry, babe, if I had known you were planning to surprise me I would have slept longer.” Oh. He’s right but still. Not fair.

“I didn’t even get to put up the streamers or that shitty banner.” Dramatically, you wave your arms around and scowl at the devil banner. “It was supposed to be finished so when you walked in I could go ‘Ta-Da!’ and you would be all like ‘Oh my god, Y/N. You’re the best girlfriend ever. This is incredible.’” Sunghoon lets out a loud laugh and brings his hands to your face.

“Okay, okay, let me walk back in and we’ll do it again.” You pout at his suggestion but shake your head as much as you can considering he’s now squishing your cheeks.

“There’s no point now.” Sunghoon sees your disappointment and he matches your saddened expression.

“I’m sorry, babe. You worked so hard on this and I ruined it.”

“Yeah, you did.” You joke while he places a kiss on your forehead and lets you go. 

Sunghoon looks around the room at all your efforts. His eyes are filled with admiration and love, everything you did was his favourite but somehow you top it every time. All that energy you spent wasting on worry because you couldn’t give him more was so silly because he was so appreciative that you would even take the time to do any of this, especially when he said he didn’t want a  fuss.

His eyes meet yours and he sighs, “Beautiful, you didn’t have to do all this.” You are so busy between all your Uni work and grueling shifts at the restaurant that he doesn’t even know when you had time to get any of this stuff. “It’s just my birthday.”

“It’s your 21st! It’s special!” You protest. “I would have done something more extra but,”

He knows. It’s tight right now between bills and time but none of that matters to him, not right now, not when he has you beside him. “Babe it’s perfect, really. I like the uh,” he points between the decorations, “the green and pink banner and the gold balloons, brings a certain class to the room.” He jokes and you hide your face in embarrassment in his chest, mumbling a little ‘It’s all they had’. “Y/N I love it.” He bends down a little until his face is just below yours, “Seriously. Thank you.”

All the trouble was worth it just to see his smile right now. You peck his lips, “Happy Birthday, Hoonie.” Circling your arms around him as he towers back over you, he kisses the top of your head and then pulls away slightly to kiss your lips. Sunghoon feels so loved by you. The kiss is filled with love and desire so when you pull back he audibly groans.

“Do you want your present?” Not unlike you, but you’re nervous. You had been saving up for his gift since February so no pressure or anything. Inside you’re screaming, your brain working overtime in the anxious department. What if he hates it? “Or do you want to wait a bit?”

“If you’re the present then I’ll take it right now.” He captures your lips back into a kiss. If he wasn’t so into this kiss he would have noticed your playful eye roll. Sunghoon had the impeccable ability to make you have butterflies in your stomach while also frustrating you at how horny he is. He truly is still just a man.

“Hoonie I’m serious.” You pull away and he sighs.

“So am I.” His large hands grope your ass to pull you towards him. When he looks at your face he removes his hands from your body and holds them up defensively. “Okay, I get it. But I told you nothing crazy.” 

Sunghoon didn’t care for gifts and that’s why giving this one to him made you feel like you were going to throw up and cry. He was either going to love it or be mad that you bought it.

“Close your eyes.” Doing as he’s told he screws his eyes shut and you turn to dig through the automne. It wasn’t the safest place to leave it considering it took for him to look for one letter or magazine to find it, but it’s better than nothing. The present is perfectly wrapped with glossy white paper, accented with a gold ribbon, you wanted it all to be perfect. “Put out your hands.”

Once his hands are flat you place the box gently in his hands and he opens his eyes. His smile falls a little as he looks between the box and you. “Y/N this is big.” He’s skeptical and his face doesn’t hide it which sends your anxiety through the roof. “Please don’t tell me it’s something exp-”

“Can you just appreciate it and open it please?” He’s hurt by your words. Of course he cherishes anything you do or buy for him, he just doesn’t want you wasting money on him and with the size of this box, he fears you might have.

“Babe of course I appreciate it, you know I do.” You pout and push the box to his chest. 

“Then open it and tell me you love it. And don’t get mad.” When you say that he shuts his eyes. “I promise it’s nothing like mad expensive. Scouts honour.” You hold a hand to your chest and one in the air.

Sitting down on the couch he unwraps the gift and sees a plain black box. His fingertips feel the edges before he opens it and his eyes widen bigger than they ever have before, he doesn’t move. 

He hates it. Obviously he does. You bite your nails looking at him slowly take out the gift and examine it. “Y/N this is..” He trails off, looking intently at it.

Last year Sunghoon had gotten back into photography, just a hobby, nothing major, but he found a real passion in it this year. He carried the thing everywhere, taking pictures of everything he found pretty - most of the memory card was filled with you. Nonetheless, he didn’t have a case for it, and considering it cost him like 2 months' worth of rent, and that was it being second-hand, you felt like he needed to protect it properly. 

So you got him a custom leather case to fit his vintage Minolta TC-1 camera, his initials embroidered on the front lefthand side. The Etsy seller was even nice enough to throw in a strap that matched. You were lying when you said it wasn’t super costly, it did take months to save up for, but as you see his shocked face change into one filled with glee, you know it was worth it.

“Y/N, this is too much.” The smile on his face said otherwise, it was just perfect.  “Babe, seriously, this must have cost you a shit ton of money.” 

Shrugging you play it off, “Nah, got a good deal on it.” 

Like a child at Christmas, he stands up and strides over to embrace you, the hug said everything he couldn’t. There were no words to describe how much he loved it, how much he loved you.

“Let me go get my camera!” Sunghoon was easily excitable and as he ran to your bedroom to retrieve his camera you could only laugh. The pitter-patter of his feet getting faster the closer he got back to the living room was the cutest thing you have ever seen. Struggling to get the camera in the case due to excitement, you walked over and took the case from his hands, “Here, babe.” You slot it in and thank the heavens it fits and in hindsight, you probably should have checked before giving it to him.

“Babe, I love it so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He kisses all over your face. He was such a cutie, you never understood why people were intimidated by him. But then again, with a face so gorgeous who wouldn’t be? And you were the only one that really got to see this side of him.

“I’m glad you like it, Hoonie.” He corrects you and repeats the word ‘love’ which makes you smile.

Turning the camera on he brings it to his face and adjusts it. You take the opportunity of his preoccupied state to clear up some of the mess from the decorations and his present. You contemplate whether you should attempt to finish decorating but you don’t see the point, maybe finish it before the others come over.

A shutter sound echoes in the quiet room and you spin around to see your birthday boy smiling widely as the camera is pointed at you.

“Hoon, stop! I’m not even dressed yet.”

Your words seem to spark a mischievous glint in his eye and you have no clue what he is thinking. Sunghoon slowly walks over to you, “You know,” he wears the strap of the camera around his neck and takes the rubbish from your hands and discards it to the couch, “That’s not a bad idea.” Perplexment shows on your face. When did anything you just say sound like an idea? “I could take your picture.” 

“Babe you always take my picture.” 

“Not while I’m fucking you I haven’t.” 

Your jaw hits the floor. For the first time in your life, you are speechless, utterly gobsmacked. “No way.” You’re a generally shy person despite your loud personality so you would never think to do anything like this.

“Come on, Y/N.” He strokes your hair and uses a lower octave voice to try and persuade you, “They’ll just be for me, literally no one else will see them. You know I would never show them to anyone.”

Evidently he wouldn’t, he doesn’t even like it when you both go out dressed up nice and guys even think about looking at you. This was for him when you were on long shifts or in classes. Something he could use to jerk off to when his wank bank of memories won’t suffice. 

He’s too persuasive because the next thing you know you’re taking his hand and pulling him to the bedroom. Glancing around the surroundings you sigh. “Can I tidy up first?” 

“Why?” He laughs confused.

“I just don’t want the pictures taken with all this mess lying around, it’s un-aesthetically pleasing.”

His quiet almost silent laugh rings in your ears and you smile defeated. “Baby, do you think for one fucking second I am going to be looking at the slippers on the ground or Mr. Giles in the corner.” Mr. Giles, your childhood teddy bear, has seen far too much of what has gone on in these four walls but why is it when Sunghoon mentions his name you want to cuddle him and apologise?

“Mr. Giles is camera shy okay?” Your boyfriend picks him up, places a kiss on his nose, and places him facing the wall. 

“There. See.” He pushes you to lie on the bed, “Now, let me do my job, yeah?” His hands are on your waist in no time, the camera swinging from his neck now lays on your stomach as he bends down. The coldness of the object makes you shiver but you’re soon heating up when you feel his fingers dip into the waistband of your panties and pull them down. You hear him mutter ‘So fucking beautiful’ as his face is level with your core. Thinking he’s just going to get right down to business, you spread your legs but he stands up. “I need to take a before shot.” 

Click

Click

Click

He takes pictures as you lay there in only his shirt, some at a lower angle to get your perfect pussy in focus. His eyes are telling you he’s trying to refrain from just delving in, from absolutely ingurgitating you, it’s a patience he usually doesn’t have. 

“On your knees for me, beautiful.” Being obedient like always, you do what he says. “Gonna get you to suck my cock, okay?” You don’t wait to be told what to do next because your hands are reaching for his boxers to pull them down. Cocks are either fucking beautiful or ugly, and Sunghoon had the prettiest cock of them all. His reddening tip slaps his stomach and you mewl out loud. “Don’t show off for the camera baby, okay? Just do it the way you always do.” 

Sunghoon loves the way you lovingly lap his cock, trying to fit it all in your mouth but he’s so big you can’t take it all the way in without choking. It’s cute to him how eager to please him you are.

You sit your hands on his hips and lick a stripe from his balls to the tip before taking his tip in your mouth. “Fuck.” You hear Sunghoon breathe out and it makes you look up. This is the moment you wish you could take the camera and snap a picture of him. Maybe you need to suggest that at a later date.

Right now it’s Sunghoon’s birthday and it’s whatever he wants. You suck his cock in earnest, grabbing the base to cover the part of his cock you can’t fit into your mouth. He’s like you’re favourite meal and while you used to hate sucking dick there’s something so pleasing about him and the way he tastes. 

Forgetting his original intentions he grabs your hair and tightens it into a tight pony, pulling at it. “B-babe, so fucking good at this.” It’s not until he looks down at you working him up and down he sees the camera. He uses both hands to put you into focus and takes a few pictures. Some are just a close-up of your lips enveloping his shaft, others are simple POV shots. It’s when you look up as you hear the shuttering from the camera that he starts really taking the pictures with determination to capture how beautiful you look in this moment. The eye contact to the camera has his chest growling. “That’s my pretty girl, made for the camera, huh?”

He wasn’t big on dirty talk but right now he felt like a whole different person, and this person wanted you to hear how good you made him feel.

Picking up the pace you start to slabber down your chin, losing yourself in the action. Sunghoon is so close to cumming that when he pulls you off his cock he whimpers. You are both panting and clouded with lust, your plumped-up lips aren’t helping Sunghoon, and his leaking cock isn’t helping you. 

“You’re a natural on this camera, babe.” His hand reaches down to wipe the saliva and particles of his cum from your lips. Click. Another perfect moment. “Can’t wait for you to see it from my point of view.”

“Sunghoon, I love you but I am not looking at those ever.” There is a big part of you that actually would like to see it, but you’re too embarrassed to even imagine what you look like. 

“You’re missing out, beautiful. Nothing more picturesque than you choking on my cock.” Sunghoon says the filthy sentence so casually and it flips your stomach. “Lay down for me.”

Removing the camera from his frame he places it on the bedside table. Is he finished taking pictures? “Hoon wha-”

Sunghoon’s face is in between your legs and licking up your folds before you can ask your question but his actions answer it anyway. If he was your favourite meal, you were certainly his. Fuck, you were his favourite everything. He was sucking your clit so suddenly you arched your back, the action pressing your pussy further into his face which elicited a hum of approval from him. The sucking was harsh, overwhelming, so much so you hadn’t even noticed how his fingers lightly trailed your thigh. 

His palm pushed your right leg open further, his mouth never letting up on your sensitive bud.

“Hoonie,” A moan of his name leaves your lips, your hand grabbing him and pushing it towards your entrance. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing but still listens to your silent request, his middle finger circling your opening. 

The birthday boy wishes he could do this and take pictures because he knows you look so fucking beautiful right now. Even the image in his head of you arched in his work shirt, mouth agape and moaning, could make him cum right now. Instead, it just fuels him so keep going at your clit, throwing in some light nibbles every so often.

Slipping his middle finger into you he curls it exactly how you like it. After 2 years of fucking you, he’d say he could easily get a PhD in how to please you, certainly how to make you cum. And what you like is way more than just one finger, so he adds two more sending you crazy.

“Fuck, fuck, Hoonie, so good.” The moans and profanities leaving your lips make him smirk, knowing you’re close. He makes his tongue rigid and uses it to stimulate your nub, going fast and hard in rhythm with his fingers and within a minute your thighs are clamping his head and your coating his tongue with your cum. “Shit, my god, m’cumming.”

He almost laughs at you because of course you’re coming, he’s tasting it right now and it’s better than any meal or cake he’s going to get today. 

Your trembling thighs open slightly and he peaks his head up to see you, quickly grabbing his camera. “What a fucking sight,” Sunghoon whispers before clicking. Your arm is laid over your face, his shirt is held together by one button in the middle of your torso, and most importantly your cunt is glistening. He wants to blow this picture up on a canvas and hang it in the living room, but you would never agree and his friend would never leave your house. 

As you catch your breath, Sunghoon crawls to hover over you. “Babe you look so fucking good right now.”

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You laugh and finally bring your arm away from your eyes. Your essence still on his lips somehow makes you wetter than you already are.

“You’re so funny.” His sarcastic tone makes you laugh harder. “Now I need to make a decision

“What?”

“Do I want your pussy filled with my cum, or it splattered on your stomach?" 

Oh, you might just have a second orgasm right now. It’s not implausible at this moment. “Well, you have my permission for anything,” You kiss his lips, moaning as he instantly sticks his tongue down your throat. Breaking the moment you bite your lip, “And y’know, if you can cum twice you could get a double shot.”

The camera is pushed back on the table and his dick is touching your entrance, “I’ll make it a surprise what one comes first then, huh?” With that, he’s sliding into your heat, both of you gasping in unison. You’re tight around his cock, your walls dragging themselves perfectly along his hard shaft. 

“Shit, babe, feel so fucking good.” If he could record this moment and make it 4DX he would hire out a Cineworld screen every day and watch it on repeat.

Thrusting into you with purpose, one of his big hands gently encloses your throat, not tight enough to cut off your air but enough to have you roll your eyes back. It’s taking all his willpower not to just fuck you rough and hard because if he does he’ll cum instantly and that’s just not going to happen, not on his watch. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. So perfect.” He brings his mouth to your ear, “My pretty girl, I love you so much.” 

You cry out in love and pleasure as he starts to pick up the pace, his cock hitting your soft spot every time. To him, you were the only present he ever needed. 

Sunghoon nibbles your earlobe, keeping his rhythm steady, continuing to whisper in your ear, “You wanna cum?”

“Yes, fuck yes please, Hoon.” He takes your hand from your throat and places it beside your head to give him more stability as he relentlessly fucks into you, his lips sucking in yours as he loses control, his only thought right now is to make you come undone on his dick. 

From the last orgasm you had it doesn’t take long before you’re cumming again, the aftershocks still buzzing and only adding to the sensation. You’re gripping his arms and crawling down them, legs shaking as you loosely wrap them around him. There’s no energy left in your body so as he fucks you deep, your spent body only moves due to the power of his thrusts. “You’re doing so good, I’m nearly there, babe.” He mumbles into your neck as he nuzzles into you.

You’re getting a tiny bit overstimulated but you know he’s close so you bear with it, mustering up all you have left to whisper, “Come on, Hoonie, don’t you wanna get the perfect shot?” 

His seed fills you instantaneously as your words echo in his ear, his body jittering as he coats your walls, his hips losing their rhythm and coming to a standstill. 

Heavy breathing and banging heartbeats are all you both hear as you compose yourselves. Sunghoon falls on top of you, his softening cock still buried inside you. Rubbing soothing circles on his back makes him smile widely and look at you. “Thank you, babe. For the present.”

“You’re welcome.” Lazily you plant a feather kiss on his nose. You reach over and grab the camera, “Well, you got a picture to take.” 

Smirking, Sunghoon takes the camera and slides out of you, taking in the view of his cum dripping out of you onto the bedsheets. It’s a work of art. “Pose for me, pretty girl.” You open your legs a little wider and try your hardest to look sexy for him.

The camera clicks a few times, each shot more beautiful than the last. You’re his muse, his everything, his best birthday present.

“Now,” He puts the camera away and lays on you once again, “I think for my next birthday I might ask for a camcorder.” 

#sunghoon smut #enha smut #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enha x reader #aj writes #i love him sm i hope he has the best birthday ever fr

[total-dxmure]

✦ MARLEY AND ME →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER FOUR

pairing: modern!ellie williams x single mom!reader

summary: you’re a single mom just doing the best that she can to make ends meet. ellie can’t help but think that you're the kindest, most beautiful girl that she’s ever met. compared to taking care a little girl that's in her terrible twos, coming to terms with the fact that you’re a lesbian is a walk in the park. awkward first encounters, ellie’s broken gay-dar, and her overwhelming urge to take care of the care-giver. . . the road to domesticity is a long one, but it’s well worth the pining that it takes to get there.

warnings: eventual substance use, no use of y/n (you have nicknames/petnames), the reader is marley’s biological mother, talk of coming to terms with ones sexuality, mention of a shitty baby daddy ( though there is no co-parenting between them), ellie is a total girl mom, lots and lots of fluff, ellie is an anxious dork in this fic, reader is broke but happy, ellie takes pride in being a provider, this is going to be a multi-part fic, ellie is an absolute simp for the reader since chapter one and will remain her #1 fan.

The knock on the door is to the tune “Head Over Heels”- or at least you think it is. Ellie doesn’t have enough time to fully get through the chorus before you’re yanking it open, cheeks flushed all pretty and eyes wide. They glitter in the dim sunlight like jewels, staring up at her like she was the one that hung the moon. Ellie’s got that same dumb look on her face; mossy eyes wrinkled at the corners from the force of her smile. You would never know that she’s been up since seven o’clock in the morning, cramming for an exam that she had aced. She’d talked to Joel for the fifteen minutes that it took to get to your house, bragging on and on about how much easier it had been than she’d initially thought that it would be.

He let her brag. Of course he did. She wasn’t quite as talkative as she had been when she was a teenager, but she was still famous for her little tangents. Joel was good at listening, and Ellie? Well, she was a professional yapper. It was a match made in heaven.

Ellie smells like lavender, musk and patchouli incense. The scent of it clings to her hair and clothes. She’d mentioned a couple of times that she was a daily smoker, but she made sure to go out of her way to never smell when she was over at your place. The thought of your daughter cuddling to her when she smelled. . . funky made her cringe.

There’s a moment of appreciative silence as she stands on your front porch. The two of you just stare at each other, breathing the scent of each other in. The novelty still isn’t lost as far as your courting goes either. You can’t imagine the nervous butterflies ever going away. They’ve made a cage out of your ribs, fluttering away madly in your chest.

“Hey,” She breathes through her smile, her eyes dancing over your features. “Did I miss anything exciting?”

You look absolutely exhausted. Gorgeous, but exhausted nonetheless. Ellie has noticed that you do a very good job at putting others' needs before your own. You’d been at work for two whole hours before Ellie had even woken up this morning, and now you felt like you were on autopilot. You’d walked to your mom’s to pick Marley up, gotten her bathed and dressed in little play overalls and now the two of you were spending some quality time together. You could barely keep your eyes open, and yet you knew that you wouldn’t be able to get your screaming toddler to sleep for at least another three hours.

“Marles and I are making homemade play-doh right now,” You opened the door wider, tempting her into the house with a sweet smile. Who was Ellie to deny you of all people? “She’s been excited ever since I told her that you were coming over.”

Marley had taken to Ellie like a bee to honey.

The college student hadn’t had too many opportunities to be around children- especially ones as young as Marley was. She was unfamiliar with the tiny sticky hands, drooly mouths and unpredictable attitudes. Still, she was a natural. Marley gravitated towards her. Ellie was sure that the constant presents and sweet treats buttered her up, but she would be selling herself short if she claimed that those were the only reason that your daughter loved her so much.

Your three year old babbled from the kitchen, excitedly trying to piece together a sentence. Ellie closed the door behind herself, only to sweep you up into a bone crushing hug. Your laugh was muffled by the fabric of her soft cotton button up as you nuzzled your face into her neck. Closer, closer, closer. If she could absorb you into her body she would. It was hard to describe the level of admiration she felt for you. It was too early to classify it as “love”, but she supposed she did love you and Marley. Being in your house, as small as it was, felt right to her.

“I missed you.” You mumbled, arms fastened tight around her waist.

She barely had enough time to brush a gentle peck to your lips before Marley was bounding around the corner, bare feet slapping against the linoleum floors. You’d recently learned that wearing socks wasn’t a good idea. Your poor little girl had slipped and fallen far too many times for your liking.

Marley had become more comfortable in her body, which meant she was now running, jumping and climbing. Just a year ago you had been relieved that she could walk by herself without you holding her hand, and now keeping her off of your furniture was an impossible task. Nothing had prepared you for the constant changes that came with motherhood. You blinked and suddenly she was sassy and genuinely funny. She complimented you when you were wearing something unusually flashy and wanted you to put blush on her while you were getting the both of you ready so that she could “look like mommy”.

You never expected anyone outside of your family and close friends to appreciate your daughter in the same way that you did.

But then there was Ellie.

Self indulgent. Waking up this happy felt sinful.

Your fingers gently glide over her gentle planes and curves, making a map in your mind of every inch of her. Each freckles a continent, each line a river.

You didn’t want to wake Ellie, too frightened that you might break whatever magic spell was currently suspended in the air between the two of you. This moment between you felt too good to be true, and that scarred little voice inside of you that you loathed so much was begging you to enjoy this while it lasted.

You were always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Happiness was fleeting. You felt like you didn’t deserve whatever was going on between the two of you. Your entire identity for the last three years has been summed up in a singular label: “ a mother”. You were a sexless, wantless, selfless creature meant only to teach and please. How dare you need a night off. How dare you choose yourself over an abusive relationship. How dare you need, want, desire, change.

But this? This was nice.

No, it was better than nice. Great? No. . . It was perfect. She was perfect. And that terrified you. Ellie scared the absolute shit out of you, and yet you couldn’t take a step back. It was like you were falling head first for a very, very long time. The ground is nowhere in sight.

You were free falling and you had no clue where you would end up when all was said and done. It felt selfish to put so much effort and care into so many new things at once. Especially since those new things could shatter your heart into a million pieces at any second. You knew that Ellie didn’t owe you anything. She was nice enough to give you a chance despite all of your faults. Your baggage had become too heavy for you to hold at times, so how could you ever expect someone else to help pick up the slack?

You weren’t even sure what the two of you were doing together. The two of you hadn’t put a label on your relationship, but she’d brought you flowers yesterday when she popped by for a movie night. She’d even gotten a small bouquet for Marley, who was far too small to appreciate them for longer than five minutes.

Ellie wasn’t your girlfriend, but she’d slipped Marley’s shoes on for her before you’d all left the house last night to pick up dinner. Ellie wasn’t your girlfriend, but she’d spent the night with you last night in your bed. Ellie wasn’t your girlfriend, but she’d held you all throughout the night.

She didn’t even try to get handsy at all last night, probably having seen the exhaustion written all over your face. She kissed you because she wanted to show you affection. She held you because she wanted to be close.

What you didn’t know was that Ellie felt the same way that you did. She was lost as to when to ask the dreaded “what are we?” question. The thought of pushing you away or losing you was agonizing, so instead she had deluded herself into thinking that she didn’t have to define things. It was clear that she liked you, right?

She’d never felt this way about anybody before. This wasn’t like any other crushes she’d had in the past. She felt fresh and new. Ellie even felt like she looked a bit different when she looked in a mirror. There was a glow to her; a sense of happiness that wasn’t just rare for her but something that she had once deemed an impossibility. She felt changed for the better.

It was easy to love Marley. It had happened naturally- like breathing. You don’t have to remember how to breathe. . . it just happens. With you it was different. Obsessive, maddening, all inhabiting affection. You’d wrapped your dainty hands around her heart tight, tight, tight. Every skip and butterfly is a gentle reminder that this was something. The both of you are something, and that is enough.

She smiles before she even has her eyes open. She can feel your fingers on her bare arms, and for a second she ponders whether or not she’s in heaven. . . or perhaps still dreaming. Waking up in your bed, the scent of your shampoo on all of the pillows and your soft hands on her- she could die right there, your room, her tomb. The headboard, her headstone.

“Are you real?” She whispers, her voice hoarse and still thick with sleep. She’s looking at you with those great, big green eyes. Your eyes are glued to the small collection of freckles just above her top lip, but you hear her.

“M’ real.” You mumble out a confirmation, propping your head up on your hand so that you can lean over her. You know your hair is a mess. . . but she’s studying your face with a silent sort of appreciation that has your throat feeling thick with emotion.

She’s soft. Ellie’s soft and wants to take care of you. She showers you and your daughter with affection without ever having to be asked to. Why? Because she wants to do it. You find it hard to believe that anyone would want to go out of their way like this. Especially for someone like you. You were a young mother who hadn’t gone to college. You lived in a tiny house, operated paycheck to paycheck, and had a few stretch marks on your tummy. You weren’t perfect. Not like Ellie deserved.

So why was she looking at you like that?

Oh god, how she stared at you. Her eyes were velvet soft as her eyes flickered over your face, taking in every feature. She’d never woken up next to you before. Your bedhead and glassy eyes had her heart blooming with warmth. The ceiling fan had a few strands of your hair falling into your eyes. She took the opportunity to tuck them behind your ear, feeling the softness of your skin. She committed that to memory too.

“I really like this.” Ellie finally admits, bottom jaw quivering a bit. She fiddles with her fingers under your comforter, a nervous habit.

“What?” You ask her incredulously. If Ellie’s eyes weren’t open she’d still know you were smiling. She could hear it in the way you spoke, and it had her seeing stars. And Ellie really, really loved stars. “Looking at my bedhead? You better not take any pictures.” You were already smoothing your hair down with your hands, brushing through a few tangles.

She caught your arms, shaking her head the best she could with it still resting on your pillows. “Waking up next to you. Being here with you two- this is really nice.” It was more than nice, but she didn’t want to scare you away by coming on too strongly.

You opened your mouth, getting ready to agree with her, but the familiar sound of tiny feet had you sitting up fully so that you could turn and face the doorway. You shot Ellie an apologetic smile, but she merely shook her head, sitting up as well with a small smile. She didn’t seem burdened by the existence of your daughter, which was something you weren’t used to.

Marley’s hair was an absolute disaster, per usual. It looked like she’d been caught headfirst in a tornado,wispy hairs bobbing as she shuffled closer to the bed in her footie pajamas. She had insisted on wearing them last night despite the fact that it wasn’t exactly cold enough for them. Her cheeks were pink and it was obvious that she had sweat in her sleep last night. You felt a tinge of guilt for letting her get her way, praying that Ellie didn’t think you were a bad mother for giving in so easily to her sweet demands. Sometimes it was impossible to say no to her.

She stood at the side of the bed for a few seconds, eyes still half lidded and dazed with sleep. For a second she just stared at you and Ellie, as if trying to connect the dots that someone else was in your house. It was incredibly unusual to have guests over at the house. . . well, that was before Ellie. Marley climbed up onto the bed, pushing away your eager hands when you tried to reach out for her.

Your little girl was headed straight for Ellie. You bit the inside of your cheek, feigning a look of jealousy when Marley wrapped her tiny arms around the other woman’s neck. Ellie’s eyes widened as she held the small girl to her chest, cheeks growing warm when she realized just how much your daughter liked her. She wanted to blame the constant presents and sweet treats, but that wasn’t the case. Marley loved Ellie because she was patient with her. She took the time to sit down with her, ask her questions- hell, Ellie even played with her, which your own mother often wasn’t in the mood to do.

“I can’t believe you, Marles.” You gasped out, nose wrinkling in faux dismay. You rubbed her arm up and down, trying to gently get her attention. Marley looked up at you through her long lashes, plopping her head down on Ellie’s shoulder in a very dramatic, very Marley fashion.

“She chose me fair and square.” Ellie boasted, using her hand to try and smooth down her crazy bedhead.

You took a mental picture, eyes pinching at the corners with the force of your smile. Marley had curled herself up into a ball and didn’t seem prepared to budge any time soon. Ellie didn’t even attempt to hand her off to you. Instead the woman stood up with a small groan, her black sweatpants hanging low on her waist. You tried not to stare at the exposed flesh of her stomach as her tank top rode up but failed miserably. The brunette turned her head to face you, having felt the heat of your gaze, and the both of you exchanged a knowing smile.

“She has her legs pulled up to her chest,” Ellie said with a chuckle, her arms secured tightly around your child. “You’re like a little potato.” She pressed a quick kiss to Marley’s hair when the tiny girl started giggling at the comparison.

“M’ not!” Marley squealed, sticky hands tanging into Ellie’s cropped hair. You watched as she gave her hair a tug, your stomach tensing in panic.

You started to stand up, ready to scold your daughter for her rough treatment, but Ellie was already walking down the hall. You sat in disbelief for a second, questioning whether or not you should go in and check on the two of them. You so rarely had time to yourself like this. It felt wrong to take advantage of this opportunity, but you had a feeling that Ellie had done this on purpose.

Was she trying to drop hints that you looked bad? You were absolutely exhausted last night, so you wouldn’t be surprised if your face was a mess and your clothes in disarray. You anxiously raked through your hair, kicking the tangled sheets off of your legs so that you could run to the nearest mirror.

“Are pancakes for breakfast alright?” Ellie had ducked her head back into the bedroom, a beaming Marley still propped up on her hip. You jumped at the sudden voice, glaring in her direction as she chuckled at your expense.

You weren’t used to being so hard on yourself as far as your appearance goes. Impressing people, these days, was the last thing on your mind. Ellie felt the same way though. She’d be a liar if she said that she hadn’t checked herself out in the mirror you had in the living room, anxious that she looked like hammered dog shit after drooling all over your pillow.

The weight of your head on her chest had her sleeping like a damn baby last night. Marley had acted as a wonderful distraction from her own embarrassment, especially when she realized the back of her hair was practically sticking straight up.

What you didn’t know was that she’d never spent the night with a girl. Not romantically, at least. The both of you were in the exact same anxious boat, and while Ellie knew that she was your first, you had no inkling that you were a lot of her firsts as well.

“Pancakes?” You parroted back to her, wetting your dry lips.

You began tallying up totals in your head, trying to figure out whether or not you had the cash to grab breakfast. You would like to treat Ellie and Marley. . . but after paying the water and the power bill two days ago, you barely had enough to put gas in your car. You felt your cheeks heating up as you tried to come up with a nice way to say “I don’t have the money for pancakes” without sounding like a shitty adult and an even shittier mother.

Ellie could see the way you were over thinking things, her eyes nervously flickering to your closet. You only had a few articles of clothing for yourself, and yet she’d never seen Marley wear the same outfit twice. She’d seen you with your calculator at the grocery store, nervously staring at a total. She knew that you weren’t financially secure- you were a young single mother. The brunette smiled at you, shoving her hands in her pockets as she leaned against the doorframe.

“I make really good pancakes, and it looks like you have everything I need. Marley would be an amazing help too. She’d make my job a lot easier.” She rocked back on the heels of her gray socks, biting the inside of her cheek as she looked at you.

You looked nervous, tired, and adorable as hell. Your band t-shirt was rumpled with sleep and you were standing in tiny white socks, all self conscious and overly critical. She wanted to kiss you… but she hadn’t brushed her teeth.

“Let me go ahead and take her to the bathroom first,” You ran through your daily checklist in your mind, though not forgetting to flash her a thankful smile that nearly had the girl’s legs buckling. “Oh! Uh. . . I have an extra toothbrush. You can have it. Do you want to use the restroom first? It’ll give me some time to get her outfit together for the day.”

Ellie wanted to be selfless and tell you that she didn’t want to go first, but her breath was probably stale and the last thing she wanted was for you to be grossed out by her. She couldn’t fuck this up. She refused to.

You found Marley in her bedroom, having already strewn toys around the room. You let out a small huff of breath, realizing that today was probably going to be a rough one. Each day was different with your little girl. One day she was a perfect angel, only doing what she was told. Other days. . . well, rambunctious didn’t fully encompass her level of energy. Today was going to be one of those days.

“Alrighty, Marles! Let’s pick out a pretty outfit, alright?” You started to walk to her closet, but froze as she began shaking her head. “You don’t want to put on a dress? Or what about some overalls so you can play better?”

“No!” She screamed, running to the other side of her room so that she could grab a few more stuffed animals off of her bed. She tossed those on the ground too, even going as far as to plop down on the floor.

You had hoped that Ellie wouldn’t see this. At least. . . not so soon into the relationship. If she couldn’t accept Marley on bad days like this then you knew she wasn’t the right person for you, but still- you had hoped to slowly introduce this lifestyle to her. Not flat out throw her to the metaphorical wolves. Or. . . to Marley. You felt your bottom lip quiver, but you caught it between your teeth, giving it a few nervous chews before you sat down next to her.

“Do you want to stay in your pajamas?” Your tone was nothing but loving and patient. You were used to this, but Ellie wasn’t. You could only pray that she could accept you. All of you.

“Yes! Please, mommy.” She was getting better at articulating her thoughts and feelings. You found it impossible to deny her when she spoke to you like this. Especially when she asked politely.

So you found herself nodding, flashing her a megawatt smile that she happily returned. You could make a special day out of this. Pancakes and pajamas? It sounded heavenly.

“You’re so polite, baby girl! Alright, we’ll stay in our pajamas today. How about that? And Ellie said that you’re going to help her make breakfast. Are you going to be a big help?”

“Yeah.” She replied, already focused on the baby doll in front of her.

Her hands were still stained a little pink from making the play-doh last night. Once she remembers that she has that to play with too, you can only imagine the mess she’ll make on your dining room table.

You’re beautiful and patient. Ellie watches the two of you interact from the hallway, her breath all minty and her smile all wide. She thinks that she can live like this forever.

And she prays that she gets to.

@viswifetotallyreal​  @lillysbigwilly​  @overtrred28​  @corpsebridenightamare​ @jokerpokimoon @macaroni676 @eveshyper @lil-elliesgf @fuckingstarellie @gold-dustwomxn @madislayyy @moonbluz @vianna99 @sawaagyapong @mrsromanoff @glory-grl @sadeyedsugar @inf3ct3dd @teatimedisaster @laucalo @ellieswilliamsgf @machetegirl109 @moonchild184 @onlinelesbo @lasting-lover @luvrrcharr @koremis @elsmissingfingers @whoreshores @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @circe-is-struggling @cqrrnts @elliewilliamsmiller0 @harrysslutsstuff @shewantstoknow @laundrybag29 @darkerstarsstuff @elliesdesperatewife @rulerzreachf4n44 @eviestevie-14 @deliriousrn @diddiqueen @bready101 @felsweb @jaeminpookie @elliesswearjar @2012wannabe @abbysbae @boobabietch @amorqts

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #college!ellie williams #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #the last of us x y/n #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tlou x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fic #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us x female reader #the last of us fic #tlou part two #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #tlou ellie

[twelve-forfend]

Well, I did say this was a multi-fandom blog... Alright, let's do this.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House

(and the symbolism therein, as recorded in the donghua)

I was snooping through the establishing shots of the Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House, and had to laugh as I always do at all the gay symbolism that managed to sneak its way inside. But then I looked a little closer, and was floored by just how much passive storytelling was packed into background assets. I talked about it at length over discord, and at the urging of others decided to make a shareable post on social media as well.

First, the shots which first piqued my interest in this topic years ago:

Shen Yuan transmigrates into the stallion-genre webnovel entitled 狂傲仙魔途 (translated as Proud Immortal Demon Way). The author's and his own usernames are dick jokes.

Notice the chrysanthemum vase, the cock vase, and the stallion statuette.

The stallion and cock are obvious nods to these jokes on their own, but for the uninitiated, the chrysanthemum is a symbol of gay sex between men, as the asshole itself is often euphemistically referred to as a chrysanthemum. This should have been Shen Yuan's first clue that not all is as it seems here! These are the personal quarters of Shen Jiu — the original Shen Qingqiu!

But let's move to the main room you first walk into upon entering the bamboo house.

There it is: the writing on the wall.

As the Peak Lord of strategy and the scholarly arts, Shen Qingqiu would naturally have calligraphy and paintings hanging everywhere! So let's break it down.

On the top we have 道㳒自然 ("Dao Follows Nature"), which comes from a Dao teaching by Laozi (founder of Daoism) meaning that life, death, the entire universe, the heavens and earth and everything outside and inbetween, all follow a set of laws referred to as the nature of things. Although unrelated to the Buddhist couplet below, it's certainly relevant!

Originally hanging in right-to-left order, I've arranged them to read left to right here to make things easier to keep track of. The calligraphy reads 西方竹葉千年翠；南海蓮九品香 and is a couplet commonly found in Guanyin temples. My classical chinese is not as strong as I'd like, but this translates roughly to "The bamboo leaves in Paradise are green for a thousand years / The fragrance of lotus flowers in the South China Sea is as thick as 9 sticks of incense."

The character 西 for West is used to denote the destination of enlightenment/purity: the buddhist Paradise (think Journey to the West). The South China Sea is where Guanyin was born. Upon the Lotus flowers is where Guanyin is commonly depicted as sitting. The "9 sticks of incense" though literal can also refer to the 9 tiers/grades of reincarnation lotuses with the 9th tier being the lowest, meant for those who in life committed the most evil of crimes — the 4 parajikas — and who can only manage a sincere Amitabha recitation 10 times and no more than this.

To put this in context with Shen Jiu (the same jiu as in 9/九), the 4 parajikas committed by the 9th Tier Lotuses Reborn (officially entitled the Lowest of the Low) are:

Sexual Intercourse

Stealing

Murder

Claiming attainments of stages of pure mental concentration that have not been achieved (in other words, rushing or lying about your cultivation/enlightenment, or maybe even becoming a Peak Lord without having formed a golden core beforehand).

From what we know in the context of the novel, Shen Jiu is innocent of at least the first of this parajikas, but the overall view of Shen Jiu in the eyes of others in the story is that he is guilty of them all. This calligraphy can be seen as a condemnation or a reminder for the character Shen Jiu, who even as the Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu is widely thought of as a scum villain and the lowest of the low.

Phew! That's a lot to unpack.

But if you turn your gaze to the original screenshot, you'll see to the right that there's a vase painted with a blue bird. This vase appears in several rooms of the bamboo house, and seems to be the image of a qingniao (青鸟; lit: Qing bird, wherein 青 can mean blue/green/clear-but-brackish black).

These qing-coloured birds are messengers and foragers of the Goddess-Mother of Paradise (Xiwang-mu 西王母, the "west/paradise" character from before, lit West-King(unisex)-Mother). They're a highly intelligent species who are exceptional in song (a good representative for Qing Jing's scholarly arts and pursuit of qin!), and the older ones might learn to speak human tongue. As a subspecies of luanniao (鸾鸟 lit: luan bird), they're thought to be related to The Phoenix and indeed thought to be the lifetime/samsara just before being reborn as a Phoenix.

If given to a "master" they don't like, the qingniao may refuse to pass messages or sing until they're set free, but if they do get along with you then they're loyal to the end.

As a point of interest, the Qing generation of Peak Lords uses the character 清, which is 青 ("colour of nature; brackish black, blue, green; young) + the radical for "water," resulting in the meaning of clear (as in water or heart; see-through); distinct; quiet (as in still); just and honest; pure; to settle or clear up; to clean up, expunge, or purge.

And as a bit of trivia, Liu Qingge's sword Cheng Luan 乘鸾 means "to ride the luan, take flight on the back of a luan." (Relevant, because the qingniao is considered a subspecies of luanniao).

With the Lords of both Qing Jing and Bai Zhan referencing this bird, I really wonder about its significance! It's spawning plenty of theories and headcanons for me.

Heading back outside for a moment, you'll find that in the Quiet Pool (清静小池 qingjing xiaochi (yes, the same Qing Jing the peak is named for)), there are lotuses, and on land there are flower shrubs which are either wide-petaled chrysanthemums (gay bottom jokes ahoy), or a type of peony, the king of flowers demarcating wealth and prosperity. Either way, a blossom fitting of our Qing Jing Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu!

My one regret is that I cannot get a clear shot of the fan hanging on the wall to try and translate the calligraphy on it. If anyone can snag one, please tag me! I also couldn't translate the paintings with poems hanging in Shen Qingqiu's bedroom (it's just too small and blurry for my bad eyes to make out). If I make another post attempting these things, I'll append them to this initial post in an edit afterwards.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #liu qingge #i started writing this at 3am #and now it's 8am #what am i doing with my life #who have i become #qing jing peak

[ridhearts]

can you tell my heart is speaking? {misc.}

@diodellet​ requested: how would these characters react to getting an anonymous love letter from their crush who, ~plot twist~ has really really illegible handwriting? (like doctor's penmanship but ramp it up by 200% hahaha) like who would try to deduce the sender's identity or who would mistakenly throw the love letter in the trash?

this was one of those requests where i read it and INSTANTLY got inspo - even though it ended up a little silly. i hope you like it!!

!! information !!

characters: ruggie + jamil + rook + lilia + sebek

reader: gn!

cw: none!

masterlists ⇿ requests

• • • • • • • Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie is one of the easier ones to slip a note when he’s unaware. Just ask if Crewel needs to bother Leona about retaking any tests, go tell Leona about these tests until he threatens to bite a piece of you off your body, then slip into Ruggie’s room and leave the note squarely on his pillow. Most of the guys in the dorm don’t care enough to watch the weird freshman and remember what they’re doing, or they just assume you’re dropping something off for Ruggie as you tend to do.

When Ruggie gets the letter, he at first thinks he’s too tired to read. But then he blinks a few times, holds the letter closer and further from his face, and realizes that, no, his vision is just fine. He’s just got a mysterious letter to figure out, on top of all his regular work. Now, he just has to figure out if it’s a ransom note or a love note…

His consideration of it being a love note is 100% a joke. He doesn’t mean it. But after checking all of his belongings (the stash is still meager, but it’s been growing substantially) and realizing nothing is missing, he crosses ransom off the list. So he starts wondering if he forgot to repay someone, or if somebody could be collecting an IOU. But the list of people he allows to hold favors over his head is notably short, and they all accuse him of trying to hasten the process of them deciding what to use him for when he asks them about leaving a message for him. Ok, so it’s not debt collection, either.

At lunch, Ruggie holds the note in the sun and turns it around in his hands. Some of the symbols actually look like words…written by the kids back home, of course. When he thinks about it like that, he can actually make out a few words: confess, his name, and…love??

OH. So he was right when he found the note. He laughs at himself then, and is thankful he chose to sit by himself in the courtyard today.

That makes narrowing down the suspects way easier. There’s only one person in this school who even pretends to like him, and luckily it’s the one person he doesn’t mind getting a love letter from. Yeah, he wishes he could actually read what you wrote, but something tells him he’ll hear it straight from the horse’s mouth soon enough.

Did you think he’d run straight to you like a lovesick prince and clear the air, saving you from your multi-day suffering of wondering why you haven’t heard a response? You’d be right! - well, partially, about him beelining for you. But you know he’s going to tease you for your handwriting, mentioning how some of the kids back home wrote better than you. Lucky for you…a lot of them can write so well because of him. He’s not the neatest writer out there, but you can READ his handwriting, which would be an improvement on your part.

Ruggie showing up at your door nearly gave you a heart attack, even though it was what you’ve been hoping for. You noticed instantly the piece of paper held in his hand, full of your deepest thoughts and feelings for him. But why did he look so confused?

“What does this say?” He immediately asked, not allowing you to get a word in. Your eyes darted from his face to the note, an embarrassed heat creeping up to your face.

“Uh. Well. If I wanted to tell you, I wouldn’t have written it out, you know?” 

Ruggie stared at you for a few moments before laughing, crumpling the paper in his hand as he did so. Your heart sank - was he really going to reject you in such a cruel manner?

“Listen up, prefect! I’m going to give you some lessons in penmanship,” He declared. “I used to teach some of the kids back home, so this should be a breeze.”

“Oh, okay,” You agreed, not wanting to sound too eager. You didn’t wanted to say it (out loud), but he got a million times cuter when he talked about the kids in his neighborhood. “But...what about the letter?”

“I can’t read it.” 

“Oh.”

“But don’t worry!” With the mischievous look on his face, you were suddenly reminded that Ruggie wasn’t simply some innocent underdog in the school just because he wasn’t one of the infamous overblots. “Your final exam will be rewriting it, and I’ll be watching you write every single word.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being flirty or mean, but your heart did somersaults anyway.

• • • • • • • Jamil Viper

Jamil is a difficult one to catch off guard, especially since (mostly unbeknownst to you) he has a crush on you, too. When you’re in the room, he finds himself watching you from the corner of his eye (or sometimes straight on during his less subtle days), noticing little things that only make him all the more wistful.

The one time he won’t do this is during basketball practice. This is for two reasons: one, he’d die of shame if he missed an easy shot because you were in the room, and two, he happens to be in a club with one of the people who would instantly blurt out any strange behaviors from him if spotted (Floyd). At least Kalim has the sense to stop talking when Jamil gives him a very pointed glare that would only encourage Floyd further.

So, as long as you rope Ace into your plans, talk to him by the bleachers for a second and sneakily place a letter on Jamil’s bag, he probably won’t even notice. And if your note is just on a piece of paper and not enveloped with stickers (please make it discreet, he would also DIE if he had a very obvious love letter on his stuff, regardless of who it’s from) then he won’t even suspect anything until he’s already reading the letter!

…unfortunately, Jamil can’t read the letter.

He tries! He really does! For about 30 seconds. Then he decides it can’t be deciphered and is probably a stray page of somebody’s notes that got stuck on his bag somehow. Ace, who is very aware of what it actually is, tries to casually question Jamil as he crushes it in his hands.

Jamil responds flippantly, saying he couldn’t make sense of it and it’s nothing any of them need to worry about. Before Ace can casually try to offer to decode some of it, Floyd takes that as an invitation to snatch the paper ball, shout a popular baseball player’s name out (nobody is sure if he chose a player of the wrong sport on accident or not), and throw it in the wastebasket across the room instead of the one right next to him. (It makes it! As the basketball club cheers Floyd on and Jamil rolls his eyes, Ace swallows nervously. He’s 90% certain that you just got rejected, hard.)

Ace not-so-subtly breaks the news to you the next day, and he winds up pulling Deuce into ‘Operation: Cheer Up The Prefect!” This involves ice cream (coincidentally they bring home more than you need in their own favorite flavors) and keeping you as far away from Jamil as possible. With how brutally Ace told the story, you’re positive you’d die of embarrassment if you had to meet him face-to-face.

But Ace notices during practice one day that Jamil keeps staring at him. When they take a water break, Ace almost implodes in relief when he’s finally approached.

“Hey, Ace. Is anything wrong with the prefect?”

“You care?” Ace asked, purposely taking the bite out of his words. 

“Well...” Jamil shoves his hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt - sweat tank? - and looks to the side, as if choosing his words carefully. “Kalim was planning another party, and I need to know if they’re sick or anything so he doesn’t get sick.”

“Oh. Yeah, they’re fine.” Well, as much as he hates it, Ace feel sorry for you. This guy is ruthless. But he can’t just leave it at that - he’s gonna get you closure, whether you wanted him to or not. “Hey, what did you make of that weird letter on your backpack the other day?”

“You still remember that? It was a piece of-” Jamil stopped, looking right at Ace. Shrinking away, Ace watched Jamil as his eyes shifted slightly, trying to figure out if Ace was messing with him. “What do you mean, a letter?”

“...I may or may not know the basics of what it said. And could’ve read it. Because I know who wrote it. And I can read their handwriting.”

Jamil’s eye twitched once as he started to connect the dots. He looked more annoyed than horrified, which Ace couldn’t decide if it was good or bad. “This letter is sensitive in nature if you only know the basics of what it said, and it just so happened to be the event right in between the prefect talking to me every day to avoiding me when ‘they’re fine?’ Did I get that right?”

Ace laughed nervously. “They don’t call Scarabia one of the smartest dorms for nothing...”

“Sevens,” Jamil cursed, turning on his heel. He was out the door before anybody could ask him what he was doing, but Ace figured out where he was headed. You were in for quite the surprise. To walk out like that...Jamil must really like you.

Gross.

• • • • • • • Rook Hunt

Epel tried to fight you tooth and nail when you asked him to deliver the letter. However, after several rounds of Rock, Paper, Scissors and even more accusations of you cheating, Epel finally (and begrudgingly) agreed to be your mailman. If Vil wasn’t in the room when he delivered it, he would’ve just tossed it at Rook and been done with it. However, he handed it over with as much grace as he could, listened to Vil’s curt corrections, and scurried out of the room (while Vil called out something against said scurrying.)

Rook knew exactly who wrote the letter as soon as he saw the first word. With handwriting as unique as yours, how could he not? You thought you could hide it when romance seized you so wholly you couldn’t help but express it in written words? How foolish!

Rook began giggling like a madman, and eventually, Vil’s curiosity got the better of him. “What do you have there?”

“It seems the little lovebird has finally decided to sing their song!” Rook exclaimed. Vil wasn’t sure if he’s ever seen such pure glee before.

“Ah, of course. Any highlights?” Code for give me the details, please!

“I would tell you, but I’m afraid I can’t read a single word.”

“Huh?!?” They don’t talk about the utterly disgraceful noise that left Vil’s mouth at that.

See, Rook knows what he received through deduction alone. He’s been expecting you to make a move for some time now, actually! And while he’s touched by what you decided, it’s such a shame that your feelings didn’t break through like you thought they might! Fortunately, Rook gets told he speaks cryptically all the time, so he can play your little game with you if you’d like.

Suddenly, you have Rook trailing you even more than usual, spouting long, wordy praises(?) and sonnets that put Shakespeare to shame. He uses excessively flowery prose and more dramatics than usual, so what little words you catch just don’t make any sense. You enjoy the show, and you’re happy to see he hasn’t rejected you entirely, but you’re also completely lost on any progress you thought you would’ve made with the letter.

Rook has had his fun. Now, it was time for the moment you’ve certainly been waiting for - he was going to answer your feelings and return them in full!

With the recent theatrics, he decided a simple flower and a knock on your door would be enough to express how genuine he was being. After all, he didn’t want to overwhelm you entirely and have you doubting him! So he knocked on your door between the end of classes and dinner, certain you’d be winding down from the day and have a second to spare.

When you opened the door, Rook bowed and offered the flower in his hand to you. “Ah, mon cœur, how lovely it is to see you again. I’ve come to officially accept your feelings and see...if you might be interested in pursuing a relationship with me? You know I do love a good pursuit.”

You took the flower cautiously, an eyebrow raised. “But I thought..”

“Hm?”

“Oh! Nothing.”

“No, no! Do not be keeping secrets from me already!” Rook lamented, straightening his posture and grabbing your hands in his. “Tell me what it is that confuses you.”

“Well...” All of a sudden, you were feeling very embarrassed and sort of like a fool. “I guess, when you started with all the poems every day, I kinda thought...that meant we already were in a relationship?”

Rook blinked at you, unable to hold back his singular laugh. “My feelings are as strong as they have always been. I could feel the passion in your letter, I could see the love-”

“You couldn’t read the letter, could you?” You sighed. “Grim warned me this might happen...”

But Rook, thoroughly amused with the situation, only brought your hands to his face and pressed a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Perhaps we are soulmates, then, if we so thoroughly understand each other with such indirect communication.”

• • • • • • • Lilia Vanrouge

Are you confessing to Lilia via letter because it’s old fashioned and romantic, or because you’re scared? As you walk up the hill to the front door of Diasomnia, you still can’t figure out the answer for yourself.

If you know Lilia well enough to even considering there’s a CHANCE at a successful confession, you’ve definitely picked up on how he’s much…more than he leads on. Even if you didn’t know him that well, with the way everybody who knows him respects and admires him, you’d have to be stupid not to know SOMETHING was hiding beneath those “innocent, adorable eyes” and those “boyish good looks” and his “smooth, youthful cheeks.” (All, of course, are direct observations made by the fae himself.) So perhaps the chance at being gently let down is greater than you’d hoped, but certainly you’re trying to appeal to his more private side, right?

You approach the door, stand frozen in front of it, and slip the envelope with his name beneath the door before hurrying away. Okay, you wrote your confession because you were scared.

Lilia allows you to leave the dimension of his dorm before curiously picking up the letter. You aren’t very good at hiding your tracks, but against fae, most humans aren’t. He smiles at the hearts you’ve drawn on the envelope, carefully peeling off any stickers to keep. What a sweet way of telling him things he already knows.

Oh, he doesn’t mean to be demeaning! You’re simply so cute, it’s hard for him not to coo over every little thing you do! He’s been carefully tiptoeing around the subject for ages, but if you were brave enough to confess to him first…perhaps it’s time for him to truly confront the feelings that have been building ever since he met you. You are strange, and you are reckless, and you are oh so dear to him. It couldn’t hurt to at least see where a relationship would go within the year, right?

(Read: Lilia has some hangups about the difference in your lifespans, but fae aren’t exactly known to be selfless creatures. Lilia doesn’t hoard jewels and gold so much as he does the people he holds close to his heart, so it was really only a matter of time before you found yourself by his side anyway.)

Of course, even if Lilia can read the letter just fine, he has to have some fun with it! The hope and apprehension in your eyes when he meets you next is too enjoyable not to toy with, just a little. So, instead of asking you to dinner, Lilia asks if you need help with your unit on hexes and curses. Confused, you cautiously agree and suddenly, instead of a date, you have a two-person study group. At least he’s not avoiding you completely?

Lilia has you carefully drawing out the symbols in your textbook while he watches with his sharp eyes. You’re almost positive he’s leaning too close to you on purpose, and you’re 100% sure he’s being such a perfectionist just so he can fluster you more. When he purposely puffs a little air on your neck just as you’re finishing this round of symbols, making you jolt and mess up an otherwise perfectly straight line, Lilia clicks his tongue and begins to tell you to start again. You interrupt him.

“You’re being weird again.”

“Am I?”

“Yes,” You respond, turning to face him. Ah, right, he never backed away and now your faces were inches apart. Leaning back, you turned your head and huffed. Normally you’d find this endearing, but now you were beginning to feel like a toy. “What’s with this whole studying thing, anyway? I never mentioned having trouble in class. Actually, I’m doing just fine.”

“And yet you accepted my help anyway?” Your face began to heat up. Lilia backed away to give you your space again. “No, I just thought I might help you, since whatever curse you slipped underneath my door was absolutely abysmal.”

“Curse?”

“I’ve gotta say, though, hearts are a strange choice of rune...”

“Oh,” Your face got hotter, and you sighed. “Listen, Lilia, if I overstepped...”

Before you could finish, Lilia leaned in again, one hand on the back of your chair and the other on the table. You weren’t caged in at all, but you felt as if leaving would be a big mistake - not that you wanted to, of course. Lilia was smiling, the carefully constructed way someone does when they’re waiting to prove you wrong.

“Don’t say that, little one. It appears I’m the one that overstepped. I only meant to tease you a bit, that’s all. I never meant to imply I wasn’t interested.”

• • • • • • • Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek’s eyes have been on you all day (more than usual). Lilia joyfully proclaims that he has “‘got it bad,’ as the youth are now saying,” but Sebek knows it’s deeper than that. Sebek knows you are planning something.

You and your two friends (which, now that he’s got suspicions, he refuses to admit are also his friends) have been hunched over something, whispering conspiratorially and laughing all day. What’s more is that the Young Master has been hanging around you at night more and more frequently. Dots are connecting in Sebek’s head, and he doesn’t like it one bit.

Before he can best decide how to confront you, you leave with your little entourage. But what’s this? Upon closer inspection, Sebek realizes you’ve left behind a piece of paper. He scans it closely, once, twice, then realizes…

YOU’RE PLOTTING AGAINST THE YOUNG MASTER AND WRITING YOUR PLANS IN A SECRET CODE?!?!

Sebek is beside himself with grief, fury, and shock at your audacity. At your betrayal!! How could a human such as yourself - weak and simple-minded and kind and attractive and determined - stoop to such lows?! This isn’t right! It keeps him awake at night, and he decides the next morning that he must confront you before you do something you cannot undo.

You hear loud, aggressive banging on your door far earlier than Ace and Deuce ever arrive at your dorm. Excitedly sending the two a text saying Sebek is right on time, you jump down the stairs and try not to be too excited. After straightening yourself out one final time, you take a deep breath and open the door.

...Only to see a very frantic Sebek?

“HUMAN.” His voice is loud as always, but it almost sounds more tense than usual. You’re thankful Grim is the only other one in the dorm who sleeps, otherwise you’d have some very angry roommates right about now. “What is it that you’re planning?!”

“What am I planning?” You repeated. This was not how you were hoping this conversation would go.

“Don’t act like I haven’t seen you and the others plotting in the shadowed corners of the school!” From his pocket, Sebek presents your letter and waves it in front of your face. “I know this is a secret code, and I know you’ve got something nefarious up your sleeves!”

“What? I don’t-” You grab his wrist to stop his waving, only to look past the paper and see him so worked up, he’s got tears in his eyes.

“If you denounce all your evil plans to me right now, I’ll let you off with a warning! As a future knight of the young master, I really shouldn’t be making such deals, but-” And he cuts himself off, like the emotion is too much for him to handle. It’s almost sweet, how he offers up his integrity just to keep you afloat. Or maybe he’s finally accepted that Malleus actually likes you and would miss you if Sebek were to chase you away. It was hard to tell.

What wasn’t hard to tell was how distressed Sebek is, so you took the paper out of his hands and look at it. Deuce did warn you that your handwriting was rather messy. It would make sense that he couldn’t read it. How he got this idea in his head, you weren’t sure, but you didn’t want to watch him suffer for much longer.

“You figured me out, Sebek,” You responded sadly. Sebek looked absolutely scandalized. “I wanted to leave the young master vulnerable, so I was trying to take out the rising star that would one day defend him.”

“And how did you plan to do that?” Sebek scowled at you. You heaved a dramatic sigh.

“...You. I was trying to take you out.” For the effect, you paused for a moment before continuing. “On a date, actually. This isn’t a plan written in code, it’s a love letter.”

Sebek stared at you before clearing his throat. “OH.”

It was going to take a while to sink in and even longer to convince him, you could tell. You ushered him to your couch before he could faint.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jamil viper x reader #rook hunt x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #ruggie bucchi #jamil viper #rook hunt #lilia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #awww yiss princess and the pauper title #i think......listen mon coeur is the best french pet name imo #but i also think he'd call yuu lovebird it's SO cute that's what i want #also i like to clown on sebek but i promise i do adore him. he's sweet #he's just also fun to mess with

[mountttmase]

A Mountain To Climb: The Sequel

Chapter Eleven

Note - the penultimate chapter 😔 I can’t believe we’re here. Chapter 12 will be posted on Sunday but for now I hope you enjoy this one and I’d love to hear what you think 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 5.2k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut and angst

Masterlist

When Freya came to visit it was usually the highlight of your week. This time however you were nervous. She was observant and you were desperately trying to hide a secret.

You’d managed to fool Mason, him being busy with the end of the season nearing making things easier and he was currently at an away game so you could suffer on your own but it had always been the plan for her to come and stay and if you cancelled now she’d be suspicious.

‘Hello my love’ she smiled as you opened the door, pulling you into her body and you felt your eyes prick at the feel of her. Freya was home to you and you knew you couldn’t hold anything in for too long.

‘Hey Frey’ you whispered, trying to clear your eyes before she pulled back but the sound of your strangled voice caused her to pull away quickly and hold you at an arms length.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’ you laughed, hoping the smile you sent her would be enough for her to move on but she only eyed you’re curiously.

‘Oh yeah like I’m gonna believe that’ she laughed, hooking her arm through yours before walking you into your living room and sitting you on the sofa. ‘Now spill’

‘There’s nothing to tell’ you smiled, trying to shrug her off but she wasn’t having any of it and the panic of having to tell her what was going on in your brain made the tears spill from your eyes again.

‘Oh baby, come here’ she breathed, pulling you into her side as she rubbed your arms soothingly. ‘You know you can’t keep things from me you silly goose, so you might as well come out with it’

You knew it was something you had to tell her, this thing was big and if you left it it would only get bigger and there’s no doubt she would find out eventually but the fear kept the words in your throat. This thing was the biggest secret you’d ever kept in but you were a ticking time bomb and you knew you needed to confess.

‘I’m late’ you suddenly choked, Freya’s arms stopping for a second as she stuttered before carrying on. Your words shocking here a bit before she pulled you a little closer to comfort you even more.

‘How late?’

‘Three weeks’

‘Does Mase know?’

‘No’ you sobbed, shaking your head as you tried to wipe your eyes.

‘Let’s not panic yeah? Is there anything else?’

‘I’m exhausted, like all the time. Everything aches and I feel sick constantly in the mornings like I’ve gone through a multi pack of mints this week trying to settle my tummy’ you told her and you could see the cogs turning in her head. She knew it didn’t sound good but she was trying to be the voice of reason and not freak you out but you were absolutely petrified.

‘Right well there so use sitting here panicking eh? Let’s go grab a test and find out’

‘But I’m scared, frey’

‘I know my love. But there’s no point putting it off is there?’ She asked and you shook your head. ‘Exactly. So we’ll go find out and we can deal with it from there’

‘Okay’ you sniffed, giving her one last squeeze before jumping in the car. The ride was pretty silent and you let her pull you around the store until found what you needed but you had no idea what you were meant to be looking at so you let her assess your options before giving her opinion.

‘Get the multi pack, I’ll take one with you’ she told you, causing you to eye her suspiciously but she just shrugged with smile. ‘It’s always good to check’

‘I can’t even imagine a mini you and woody. Like my brain won’t let me visualise it’

‘Let me tell you, mini woody is not-‘ she started but covered your ears with your hands and sing loudly, not wanting to hear the rest of what she had to say. You were feeling sick enough already and the thought of Woody naked didn’t help.

You couldn’t wait to take the tests I till you got home, anting to know as soon as possible what you were dealing with so you pulled Freya into loo’s where she dished the tests out for you to take before meeting by the sinks where she sent you an appreciative smile.

‘You fancy putting them back in the box so we can play pregnancy test roulette?’ She winked but you shook your head with a panicked expression.

‘No way, I’m not risking anything and I’m not taking another one’ you told her, packing your stuff up so you could go check them in the car and once you were settled down you took a deep breath in preparation to look. ‘What does yours say?’ You asked, gulping down a lump as you tried to distract yourself from the bomb in your hand.

‘Negative’ she smiled, showing you the test before you handed her yours.

‘Can you tell me, I cant look’ you asked before hiding your face in yours hands. It felt like the longest wait in the world as you shut your eyes and tried to keep your breathing normal. The next few words from Freya had the power to change the rest of you life and as your heart hammered away in your chest you weren’t sure you can handle what she was about to say.

‘It’s negative, babe’

The rush of relief you were expecting to feel never came. If anything you felt your heart sink just a little bit but you were quick to dismiss the feeling and take a deep breath out that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

Not pregnant.

You were okay.

‘Let me see’ you breathed, taking the test back from her and looking over it. There it was in black and white, not pregnant and even though your heart rate was slowly getting back to normal you felt your eyes prick at the sight.

‘You okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m glad I know now. I wonder why I’m late though?’

‘A woman’s body is a mystery’ she shrugged before looking back at you. ‘You sure you’re alright?’

‘I feel a little bit silly but I’m fine’ you laughed, hoping she’d buy it and even though you knew she could tell you were a bit upset she thankfully knew not to push. ‘Shall we head home? Mase’s game will be on soon’

Thankfully she didn’t ask any more questions and you put it to the back of your mind so you could focus on the game and you watched on with pride as he ran around like a maniac on the pitch. Seeing him on your tv only made you miss him even more and you couldn’t wait for him to get back home tomorrow so he could wrap you and make you feel better in the way only Mason could.

Freya left the next afternoon and you used your alone time to sit and think through your feelings so that you’d be fine for when Mason returned home the next morning.

You were freaked out that it might be positive, but now you knew it was negative why were you feeling so weird about it? You didn’t want a baby, not right now at least but the weird sensation settled in your stomach and you didn’t know how to feel. What would happen when you told Mason? Would he be disappointed? Or relieved? And what was worse? If he was disappointed then at least you knew you could try again but any type of relief would make you think that’s not what he saw for your future. Did he even see a future with you?

You were driving yourself crazy with all these thoughts so you did the only thing you knew how and went to sleep in hopes you feel better tomorrow when Mason got home.

You tried to busy yourself the next morning and make sure the house was spotless for when Mason got back but it was no use. Again finding yourself laid down staring up at the ceiling as you ever thought everything about the last few weeks.

Soon enough it was time for Mason to be home and as soon as you heard the door go you were up and rushing over to greet him. His wide smile and excited eyes settled you and you just prayed you could fool him into thinking you were fine and that the last few days hadn’t happed but one look at him and you knew you were gone.

‘Hello baby’ he smiled softly as he took you in, pulling you into his arms so he could hold you, your body melting as you took in his smell and you automatically felt at home ‘you alright?’ He asked, pulling back and eyeing your curiously. It was scary how quickly he knew something might be wrong even when you tried to hide it and the concern on his face made your bottom lip wobble. ‘Hey, what’s happened?’

You didn’t mean to as you were trying to hold it together but you burst into tears, your comfort person was all that you’d wanted for the last few days and now that he was finally here you needed to get your emotions out. You didn’t think you’d be this upset but the tears kept coming so he bundled you inside and into the living room so he could pull you into his lap.

‘I didn’t play that bad did I?’ He laughed, trying to ease the tension and even though you were sobbing your little heart out you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in his neck to reassure him before sitting back so he could help calm you down and the gentle kisses along your forehead were working wonders. ‘It’s okay baby, just take your time’

‘Sorry’ you hiccuped, letting him wipe your eyes before leaving a delicate kiss on your nose.

‘No need to be sorry. Whatever it is you can tell me’

‘I know’

‘You’re not hurt or anything are you?’

‘No no I’m fine. Just something happened and I thought I was okay but maybe I’m not’ you laughed, rolling your eyes to try and play it off but he wasn’t having it.

‘You’re worrying me now, what’s happened?’ He asked, holding you by your jaw and you let you cheek rest in his hand as he gently stroked under your eyes.

‘I’ve not been feeling well for a little while. Nothing major just a bit sick and dizzy and some other things and I think I freaked myself out a little bit’

‘I thought you seemed a little off before I left but I just presumed it was your special lady time’ he joked, one hand moving so he could tickle your side to make you laugh and when you eventually smiled he smiled back twice a brightly before his face turned sympathetic. ‘Was it a bad one this month?’

‘If only’ you joked but you realised he didn’t understand from his confused expression so you gulped down a nervous lump before explaining further. ‘My period never came, Mase’

‘Oh well that’s alright then, one less to worry about’

‘No I don’t think you get it’ you laughed, thinking his puzzled face was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen and you weren’t sure if you had it in you to burst his bubble. ‘Normally it means something if it doesn’t come’

It took a few seconds but you saw it when the information clicked in his brain. His eyes going wide as his mouth dropped open but you were quick to break the news as not to make him think something would be happening.

‘I’m not, I just thought I might be’ you explained, your voice breaking at the end and you thought you saw his face drop slightly before the tears started flowing again. ‘I don’t know what I’m crying so much’ you laughed, hiding your face before he held you to him again.

‘Shhhh it’s okay’ he told you but your attempts at trying to calm down were futile. ‘It’s probably been a stressful few days huh? It’s no wonder your upset’ he whispered whilst rubbing his hands over your back gently. ‘You don’t have to tell me yet but when you’re ready to talk we can’

‘I love you’ you whispered into his neck, feeling him squeeze you a little bit tighter as he kissed your forehead gently. He was your rock and no matter how bad you felt you knew you were so blessed to have him.

‘I love you too’ he told you before a comfortable silence fell over you for a few moments. ‘I tell you what. Why don’t you go get into bed? I’ve got a few bits to sort out and I’ll come join you soon’

‘It’s 11am Mase’

‘I know but you’re tired baby, and I am to. We can have a nap or just cuddle for a bit yeah?’

‘Okay’ you agreed, letting him help you up before you went up to your room to get settled. You could hear him moving around downstairs but your eyes were heavy from your tears so you let them shut until you felt Mason slipping into bed besides you.

‘You alright?’ He whispered, kissing your cheeks and you nodded as you cuddled up to him. You weren’t sure if you were ready to talk but now he was in front of you you felt as if you owed him an explanation for everything.

‘I’m okay. Just feel like a lots gone on I should tell you about. If you’re ready that is’

‘I’m all ears’ he smiled and you sent him one back before spilling everything that had happened.

‘When Freya got here the other day she could see something was wrong and it kinda slipped out. The missing period, the sickness and dizziness. All of it. She came to the same conclusion I did so we took a test together but it was negative’

‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’

‘I didn’t want to disappoint you’ you laughed ‘We’ve not really spoken about any of that and I didn’t know what you’d think’

‘What? About kids and stuff?’

‘Yeah’ you breathed, you bottom lip wobbling again but you held your emotions in so he could say his piece.

‘You want me to be honest?’

‘I always want you to be honest’ you winked and he laughed whilst nodding his head.

‘All I’ve ever wanted is a family of my own. Yes it may be early days but if it’s something you wanted then I’d find a way for us to work it out. You don’t ever have to worry about telling me anything like that. I love you and I want us to have all of that and more’

‘I know, I feel silly about it now but I was all hormonal and stressed’ you laughed. ‘I’ve never thought about kids and as awful as it sounds I was praying for it to be negative at first but when I finally saw it, I didn’t feel like I thought I would’

‘How did you feel?’

‘A little disappointed. Is that weird?’

‘I don’t think so’ he laughed ‘is that why you’re so upset?’

‘I think so. Maybe in the back of my mind I knew if it was positive then things would be fine and you’d be happy. Now I feel like I’ve disappointed you a bit’

‘You could never disappoint me, gorgeous’ he whispered, kissing your nose before leaving a gentle peck on your lips. ‘Of course I would of been happy if it happens, you’re the love of my life and I can’t wait for all of that stuff to happen for us but we can do it in our own time yeah?’

‘Yeah’ you agreed, smiling at his words as he always knew what to say but you could feel the tears welling in your eyes again.

‘Are you alright though, with all that stuff’ he laughed, hands tickling your sides to indicated he was talking about your womanly issues and you nodded with a laugh before he kissed you again.

‘I guess so? I mean still no movement on that front so who knows’

‘I wonder why? Could the test of been wrong?’

‘I’m not sure, I have a spare so we could always take another just to double check’ you mused and he nodded at you shyly.

‘If you think it will sell your mind a bit more then we can’

‘Wait here I’ll go take it’ you told him before scurrying off. When you came back Mason was sat up against the headboard and you settled yourself next to him with the test in your lap.

‘You know whatever it says on that test, we’ll be fine. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us for mini Mounts and whatever else comes our way’

‘I know’ you laughed, eyes filling with tears again as you looked up at him but he was quick to brush them away. ‘I think I was a little unsure but I really like the sound of mini Mounts now’

‘Yeah?’ He smiled, eyes brighter than you’d ever seen them and you felt your heart thump at the little intimate moment you were having.

‘Yeah, someone to look after and keep me company when you’re away. And considering how cute you are I can only imagine how adorable a mini you would be’

‘I think they’d be cuter if they looked like you’ he laughed, kissing your nose. ‘You’re so perfect’

‘Well then I want them to have your resilience. You never gave up on me and I’ll always love you for that. You dragged me up our mountain kicking and screaming but I’ve never been happier’ you told him, smiling proudly at the way he blushed at your words before he pulled you in even closer.

‘Well I want them to have your brains cause let’s face it they won’t have any hope if they’ve got mine’

‘You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for’

‘Well I managed to pull you so I must be good at something’ he winked before leaning down to give you a soft kiss that made your heart flutter. ‘I want them to have your eyes cause they’re the prettiest ones I’ve ever seen’

‘And I want them to have your smile. Though I think I’d let them get away with too much if they did’ you laughed but it was true. Mason melted you so you could only imagine what a little one of him would do to you.

‘Shall we have a look then?’ He asked, nodding down to the test and you took in a nervous gulp. His fingers were on your chin in an instant though so he could pull your face towards his and the look of joy on his face settled you instantly. ‘Whatever that says on there, it changes nothing okay? You’re my girl and we’ll get through whatever it is together’

You didn’t have the strength to reply but you hoped he knew that you felt the same. His eyes were soon on the test and you followed them so you could pick it up, taking one last breath before flipping the test the right way around.

Not pregnant.

You knew it was coming, but it still didn’t sting any less and you bit your lip as you let out the breath you’d been holding.

‘It’s not our time yet, but we’ll get there’ Mason whispered into your hair, pulling you close as you melted into his body. ‘Now we know it’s something we want we’ve got more time to prepare’

‘I guess so’ you whispered and even though you didn’t want to you let him tilt you face up so he could look at you.

‘No tears okay? Breaks my heart seeing you cry and not being able to do anything about it’ he smiled and even though your heart was still breaking a little bit you sent him a smile back. ‘Lay down with me’

You did as he asked, wrapping yourself around him and settling your head into his neck so you could hold each other. The stress of the last few weeks freeing you now that it was out in the open and you left yourself fall asleep in the arms of the man you loved more than anything.

Things went back to normal in the coming days and soon enough the sadness lifted. In it’s place a sense of joy and excitement about the future and even though you both agreed there probably wouldn’t be any babies in your near future plans, you were high on the knowledge that one day you could have the family you never did with the man of your dreams.

‘I’ve been thinking about something you said the other day’ Mason said as you slid in to bed next to him a few days later and you looked up at him with raised brows. ‘About having someone to keep you company when I’m not here’

‘I’m not having Woody move in’ you told him, watching him roll his eyes with a smile.

‘I didn’t mean Woody. But don’t tell him that he might get offended’ he joked before pulling you into his chest. ‘What do you think about getting a dog?’

‘Really?’ You laughed, loving the idea instantly as you looked up at him with a wide smile that he matched.

‘Yeah, I’ve always wanted one and I feel like we’re pretty settled now so it’s the perfect time. I’ve been looking at shelters and there’s one not too far from here. Thought it would be nice to re home one’

‘Like doggie foster parents’

‘Exactly’ he laughed, kissing your nose as he was so happy at how excited you were. ‘I’ll give them a call tomorrow and see if we can sort an appointment out for my day off’ he told you and you could hold in the excited squeal. You had always wanted a dog but never been able to afford one or have the right space but Mason was right. You were settled and it would be great practice for whatever else came in the future.

Sunday came around quicker than you expected it to and soon enough you were sat in the car park of the dog shelter. You couldn’t help but bob you knee up and down in excitement as you were so full of adrenaline at the thought of getting to see some dogs and you could see Masons smile out of the corner of your eye.

‘Do you think we should set some ground rules?’ Mason asked, his hand settling in your knee so you would stop moving it and you sent him a shy smile.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well I have a feeling we’ll get in there and suddenly I’ll be agreeing to adopt 7 different dogs’ he laughed and you rolled your eyes in his direction. ‘So rule one, we’re getting one dog. That’s it’

‘Fine. But rule two is that I get the final say on what one we pick’

‘How is that fair?’

‘Cause I’ll be the one spending more time with it’

‘Okay well I’ll see about that one’ he laughed before turning to face you properly. ‘This is the game plan. We do a lap and see all of them so we can make a list of our favourites and then hang out with those ones a little more until we find the one we vibe with most’

‘Sounds good. Can we go in now?’ You asked impatiently and after he nodded quickly you were out of the door.

Once you spoken to a few of the staff you were lead through to some kennels and you started your hunt straight away. It was difficult though and each dog seemed to be cuter than the last but you were having the best time seeing them all and learning all about them. As cute as they were you still couldn’t pick one out to say that was the one you wanted and you started to loose a little hope.

You were nearing the end of your search when you came across Parker, a three year old German shepherd and you fell in love with him instantly. He was a big boy with big brown eyes like Mason but you could tell he was so soft and gentle and when he came straight up to the glass to say hello you felt yourself melt.

‘Masey, come here’ you called quietly and he came over quickly with a slight laugh to come and see what you were looking at.

‘Who’s this?’

‘His name is Parker, look at him I think I love him’

‘Parker? Like Peter Parker?’

‘Yes Mase’ you laughed and even though he was smiling you could tell he was about to rain on your parade.

‘Baby, he’s massive’

‘Bit of luck you bought us a massive house then, eh?’ You teased but you could see in Masons eyes he was slowly falling for Parker himself. ‘And don’t call him massive, you’ll give him a complex’

‘I’ll give you something in a minute’ he said under his breath but you chose to ignore him for now.

‘I want this one’

‘Well hold on. What does his fact sheet say?’

‘See Mase, he’s perfect for us. We can give him a large space and you can take him out on runs and stuff. Can we at least meet him properly?’

‘If you really want to we can but I get the feeling you’ll be sold as soon on him as we do’ he laughed but with a quick kiss to your nose he was off to reception to enquire about Parker. The receptionist told you that Parker had been at the shelter the longest out of all the dogs they had as he was quite large and you we’re starting to think the more you knew about him the more you felt like he was put there just for you.

You were lead to a separate room and someone bought Parker in shortly after. He seemed curious about you at first as he quietly came over to sniff the pair of you and soon enough he was sat in your lap with his head cradled in your arm as you scratched in between his ears.

‘I want this one, Mase’ you whispered, looking up to him as he was staring back down with just as much love in his eyes. ‘He’s so sweet’

‘Yeah, he’s pretty cute. And he loves you by the looks of things’

‘He’s got good taste’ you winked before Parker shuffled over to inspect Mason and once he was happy with him he cuddled into Masons lap and you almost lost it. ‘Oh look, Mase. He loves you too’

‘You sure you’re 100%? There’s no going back if we get him’

‘I’m 1000% sure. He’s perfect for us’

‘I’ll get it sorted then’ he smiled before you let a squeal of delight out.

‘Thank you, Mase’

‘Anything for my girl’ he whispered, leaning over to peck you gently but the pair of you couldn’t stop smiling.

Mason arranged everything with the shelter, the house having to be inspected before the final agreement was made and two weeks later when you were getting in from work you dashed upstairs to get ready. Mason would be home any minute with your new fury friend and you couldn’t wait to finally be a little family unit.

You heard Parker’s bark before anything else, causing you to rush to the door where Mason was half struggling to keep him from coming to you but as soon as you were near he calmed down and let you pet him.

‘Hi baby, welcome to your forever home’ you smiled, gently scratching over his face as he panted at you and it almost looked like he was trying to smile.

‘I’m gonna have to bulk up some more, Parker’s got some pull on him’ Mason laughed as Parker began to attack you with face licks until you were on the floor in a fit of giggles. ‘Wow, he’s trying to steal my woman already’

‘You’ll have to learn how to share’ you told him as he laid down next to you so Parker could lay over the both of you.

‘Are you happy?’

‘I’m always happy with you’ you smiled, leaning over to place a light kiss on his lips before Parker wanted to get in on the action.

‘Come on Parker, let’s give you a tour of your new house’ Mason exclaimed, stroking his head as you all got up and you watched on with so much love in your heart as your boys ran off into the living room.

Y/n

Liked by: masonmount, freyaaaaxo, declanrice and others

Y/n Happy homecoming Parker. We’ve had the best week with you so far and we’re so happy to have you here. We can’t wait to be your forever home 🩷

view 254 comments

masonmount parker loves his mummy just as much as I do 🩷 family 🏠🐾

Y/n my boys 🥺 what a trio we make 🩷 ily

declanrice bringing Raffa over for play time

benchilwell Oscar is coming to join

masonmount my dogs bigger than yours

freyaaaaxo auntie frey is coming over for cuddles 🥰

Y/n we can’t wait to see you 🙊

lukeshaw23 not Mase being kicked out of his own bed

Y/n he’s my protector

masonmount I only went down to get a cup of tea and he’d taken over. Had to bribe him with treats so I could come back

woody_ that’s a smart dog

petrehomeruk that smile 🥺 Parker looks like he’s having the time of his life and we’re so thankful you came to us 🩷

Y/n Thank you for all your help and for making this process so smooth. We love Parker with all our hearts 🩷

Tagged: @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @mm-vii @footiehoemcfc @masonmount07 @aundercover

#mason mount #mason mount one shot #mason mount fluff #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagines #mason mount drabble #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fan fiction #mason mount fic #mason mount fan fic #mason mount angst #mason mount story #mason mount series #mason mount scenarios #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #a mountain to climb series #footballer imagines #footballer imagine #footballer fan fiction

[sootical]

Permanence

->Wilbur Soot x Reader (hinted but never explicitly stated) ->No use of Y/n ->I tried to be as gender neutral as possible.

*Hurt, minimal comfort, hopeful ending TW: Su*cidal ideation, Self destructive thoughts and actions, SH mentions/references, depression, lots and lots of depression. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK Summary: You are stuck in a multi-month long depressive episode, and it's gotten so much worse. You're on your last leg, and you need someone to help you. Good thing best friend(?) Wilbur and his band are there to help :] Word Count - 2.4k

Wilbur Soot. Twitch streamer turned famous musician, heartthrob—you get it. He’s everything anyone could want in a partner. Trust me, I would know. He’s been my best friend since form. And since then, he’s only ever been kind and considerate and just overall an amazing person. What a guy right? With his stupid brown hair that covers one of his eyes when it’s outgrown. Stupid brown eyes that have just the right amount of dark and light brown in them. It’s stupid of me really, to ever hope for a future with him that involves us being more than friends. I can only hope though, right? He’s up there, in the states, singing his heart out on a stage. While I’m stuck, on the other side of paradise–more like purgatory–lamenting on how many people adore him. I’m feeling sorry for myself, rotting away in bed at 2 in the morning. It’s not like I have to work in three hours–whaaaat nooooo… A knot develops in my stomach at the mere thought of leaving my bed. Maybe losing my job isn’t so bad. Wilbur has told me time and time again he’d pay me to edit for him. But I could never make him do that. Never would I take advantage of him like that. I’d feel like more of a burden than I already do. The thought of him having to support me financially makes me want to vomit. It makes my skin crawl, so it’s okay if I waste away. If I end up rotting away in my bed. It’s fine. At least then I wouldn’t be able to consume too much of Wilbur’s time. Taking up too much of his time has always been my biggest fear. To me, it came true a long time ago and I’m finally reaping what I sowed. It sucks really, how I thought I'd have a shot. Just for it all to blow up in my face. Now he’s somewhere in America–having the time of his life. Good for him. Bad for me.

Reaching over, I grab my phone. My coworkers probably hate me. I keep asking them to cover my shifts so I can rot in bed for another day. It’s been like this since–September? It started off just once every few weeks. Now, it being almost December, I’ve not gone to work in over two weeks. What’s the point anymore anyways? I can’t do this. I can’t do anything. Deep down, when I started doing things for myself–I knew I wouldn’t be able to do this. That was two years ago. I guess I’m finally breaking.

Pulling the duvet over my head, I try not to think about how my breath smells, and the uncomfortable way the oil sticks to my face. I shove my head into the pillow. Trying to block out the sounds of people existing below my apartment. It’s so much easier to rot away when people don’t rely on you. When you have no reason for existence. I don’t want to die. But at the same time I don’t want to live. I’m too much of a coward to do anything about it, so I lay and wait. I wait for some omnipotent being to strike me down and judge me for how I’ve managed to mess up any and all relationships I’ve ever had with anyone. Me and Nikki haven’t spoken in almost a year. Me and Wilbur haven’t even seen each other in months My family doesn’t talk to me.

I wish I could say “The world is fucked and everyone hates me.” But that’s not the truth. The truth is I am my own undoing. I have destroyed everything I’ve worked for. Any relationships–platonic and romantic–have fallen through because of my own emotions and insecurities getting in the way. It’s not fair for anyone. Well, anyone except for me. I brought this upon myself. My phone is the only thing lighting up my face. I looked at the time. Suddenly it’s six in the morning, and I’m late for work. The thought makes me want to cry, but I can’t. I can’t tell if it’s apathy—or dehydration. 

I call my boss. She answers. “Where are you?! I haven’t seen you in weeks! I’m worried about you hun, do you need me to call someone?” She opens, sounding both relieved and shocked I even called. I clear my throat the best I can, swallowing saliva feels like eating sandpaper. “I uh..I was calling to let you know I won’t be coming back. I’m quitting. And I’m sorry for not putting in my two weeks. It’s not–” Something foreign is bubbling up in my throat, I force myself to swallow it down. “-It’s not fair to you. And I’m sorry.” I whisper, hanging up shortly after.

I feel terrible for worrying her. I feel terrible for upsetting her. I feel terrible. I am terrible. I’m a parasite. I always have been. Mooching off of others in order to help myself get by. My thoughts fall back to Wilbur. I’ve been mooching off of him for however long we’ve been friends. I want him to be happy. I don’t want him to feel like he needs to be my friend to keep me alive. But at the same time–I can’t do this anymore. I can’t look myself in the mirror and tell myself it’s me. I can’t. I’m not the person I thought I’d become. I’m not the person I thought I was. I’m useless. My phone rings again. I go to decline it, I can’t. 

Wilbur’s face greets me. His contact photo, the two of us at the amusement park I helped them film for Tommy’s vlog channel. We’re smiling. His arm over my shoulder, and my head on his arm. I remember that day. Wilbur held me for a bit while Tommy and Phil were off filming a different part of the vlog with Russ. I was overwhelmed and so was he, so we took the time to chill by the snack stands. He got tommy cotton candy, and we split popcorn even though he couldn’t really taste it. We spent a good time just taking funny pictures with each other. I remember that day, it was a great one.

Tears breach my eyes before I can stop them. A sob ripping through me, I force my face into the pillow to muffle it. The ringing stops. My tears don’t, and that makes me feel so much worse. My chest convulses as my sobs reverberate through the room. I’m a mess. I’m laying in my bed, rotting. Wasting away and feeling sorry for myself. Everything is terrifying, every breath I take reminds me of how I’m alive. Reminds me of how I can’t escape the feeling of impending doom that washes over me. I’m going to die here. I’m going to die. I was never permanent. 

I knew I couldn’t do this. I’ve been lying to myself, little lies, white lies. To convince myself everything was okay. That it was fine for me to fall in love, it was fine for me to believe I wasn’t just taking up space. That I wasn’t slowly getting tired. 

Contemplating whether or not cut myself some slack–but ending up just cutting myself loose. I lift the duvet from my head, staring at the ceiling. My eyes flick to the ground, clothes and food everywhere. Some of it’s moldy. It makes me feel worse about myself. Turning my head, I look to my PC. I should sell it. Someone else would be much happier with it. I haven’t used it in a while anyways. I can’t take care of any of the stuff I have can I? 

My phone rings again, this time I do answer. 

“Oh my god–” I hear multiple people take a sharp breath in. I can’t stop myself from making a small noise of confusion. “Hey..Your boss–called us.” I recognize the voice to be Joe. I lift the phone, checking the caller ID. It was Wilbur again. “Wil—?” It hurts so bad to talk, I haven’t used my voice this much since the end of October. I hear a choked noise and whispers. “We’re gonna—come over there okay? The tour ended last night, no gigs for a while. Wil’s been missing you y’know.” I can’t tell who said that, “I–no. Sorry.” I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know why I hung up either.

Maybe deep down I did want them to help, I do want their help. But logically–It’s for the best.

I swing my legs over the side of my bed, cringing at how my clothes hang off of me. My back hurts something awful. I’m so tired. 

Yet I stand on two feet and walk to my bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t recognize them. My hair–too long and too oily for it to be mine. My skin is pale and the bags under my eyes are so dark they could rival a racoon. 

It’s then that my legs decide to give out. I can feel my knees split as I hit the tile. I’m so tired. I look down at the sweater I’m wearing. It’s one of Wil’s. I can’t remember when I put it on. I can’t remember a lot of things recently. Like when this got so bad. Or when my arms started to sting. My eyes are heavy, I can barely keep them open. Maybe a nap wouldn’t be so bad.

When I wake up it’s to voices around me. I’m laying on something warm–It’s moving. I can’t find it in myself to open my eyes. My breathing picks up, and I hear an intake of air accompanied by a hand on my forehead. My eyes are shooting open in fear before I’m trembling. He’s above me, looking down at me like I could break.

I look around, there's two other people. I can barely make them out. Joe and Ash. It’s hard to think. It’s so hard to think. 

“There you are..” Wilbur whispers, his pointer finger gently stroking my cheekbone. “What happened to you love?” I can’t tell if it’s his tone, or the fact he looks so broken. But I can’t stop my eyes from watering and my body from turning into him, hiding myself away. Embarrassment filled me, they’d seen it all. The moldy food, the dirty clothes. They probably saw the abundance of mail I'd gotten as well. People are walking out the room. Not Wilbur, he stays. He stays and makes me look at him. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m gonna help you shower, and they’re going to clean and get you food. Okay?” My eyes widened. I shake my head so quickly it hurts. His face falls, he looks down at what I’m wearing. His face falls even more. “Love…” He whispers. “I don’t–I can’t. Don’t make me.” I whisper. Wilbur wipes away my tears and shakes his head. “No. You’re going to get clean, eat, and then you will sleep for however long you need to.” He lifts me like I’m nothing.

He sets me on the toilet, turning to the tub and turning on the faucet. He waits for it to get warm before he’s plugging the drain and helping me get undressed. He brushes the hair from my face, he frowns at the sight of the back of my head. He looks down at my arms before I can see him clenching his jaw. “We’ll work on the matts too.” He picks me up again, placing me in the tub and going to shut the door. He grabs a towel from the cabinet, as well as a washcloth. He swipes the comb from the counter.

“I’m sorry.” I can’t help but whisper. He sighs. “I know. But it’s alright. We were worried about you.” Was all he said before he’s dousing my hair in water. He keeps a hand on my forehead, stopping the water from getting into my eyes. And with that, he applies conditioner and starts to de-matt my hair. An hour and countless tub refills later, my hair is de-matted and I’m clean. Feeling slightly better too. Wilbur gave me the crewneck he was wearing for comfort, before planting a kiss on my forehead and leaving the room to grab other clothes. The sounds from the outside are a lot less foggy now. I can hear the boys outside bickering and talking. “Are they okay Wil?” “What happened?” “From your face, I can tell it wasn’t good.”

I can’t help but stand weakly, the towel wrapped around me. I look in the mirror. I look a little more like myself. I touch my face, I look pale. I am pale. My hair is a bit longer now. I don’t smell bad anymore. I do feel better, but I can’t help but think I’m making Wilbur do this.

Wilbur reappears, he looks at me and smiles. He hands me the clothing he picked out before leaving the room once again, though he stands just outside the door.

I dress quickly. Slipping on Wilbur’s crewneck once I have my shirt on. I walk out, giving Wilbur a small smile. “You uh–You didn’t have to do this.” He takes my hand and leads me through my now clean apartment. “I did. Because if I didn’t–If we didn’t, you’d be dead right now, or you’d have killed yourself soon.” He says, sitting me down at the table that’s been cleared off. “Now, be honest. When is the last time you remember eating something?” He asks. 

My face drops. That’s the thing–I can’t. “Uh–Tuesday?” I say, like I even know what day it is, his face falls. “It’s Friday.” He deadpans before going into the kitchen, he comes back with Ash, Mark, and Joe. They each have both in their hands. Wilbur has two.

“It’s just soup. Easy on the stomach.” Joe pipes up before sitting on my right, Wilbur sits on my left, and Ash and Mark sit across from me. “We don’t need to talk about things right now, no one is going to make you. But you need to talk to someone soon. Maybe not us, but someone.” Wilbur said, putting his hand on my knee. “Yeah. I think I can do that.” They smile, I eat my soup, and for the first time since September–I feel permanent. 

#wilbur soot #fluff #wilbur mcyt #wilbur #angst #x reader #wilbur soot x reader #Wilbur Soot x Reader angst #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #heavy angst #hurt/comfort #Minimal comfort #lovejoy

[prokopetz]

Brief summary of my thoughts so far now that I've done character creation and played half a session (we broke in the middle but may come back to it):

1) 7 players and a GM is too many. I know you know this already but I want to reaffirm it because that was what we had and it was really hard to understand what was going on.

2) I made my character 100% random and then backsolved an identity from there, and it worked better than it had any right to. The Traits are very evocative and I immediately had ideas of what I wanted my God Eater to look like.

3) I'm not sure the Calamity Clock is explained as clearly as I'd like it to be; to be honest, Tests in general are explained in a pretty convoluted way. It felt like some of the less-experienced TTRPG players at the table struggled with them, especially coming from a 5e-only background.

Sorry if this isn't the most helpful feedback; I'm just getting my thoughts down before any more time passes and I forget how the session went. I'll do a more full writeup if/when we finish the session.

(With reference to this post here.)

I definitely agree that the process of making tests could use a cheat sheet, and that's something that will be present in future revisions. However, it's worth noting that it's probably impossible to boil it down to something that a player with a 5E-only background would find intuitive because of some pretty basic differences in what kind of games they are.

In brief, 5E (and Dungeons & Dragons in general) keeps its conflict resolution mechanics almost entirely GM-facing in order to make it easier to onboard new players. Those mechanics are structured in such a way that it's completely feasible for the GM to figure out the target numbers, the applicable modifiers, the range of plausible outcomes, and the interpretation of the results with no player input whatsoever, with the player's sole responsibility being to roll a die with the correct number of sides (and if push comes to shove, the GM can do that part, too).

Eat God, conversely, is designed from the ground up to readily support GMless play (the specific rules for that will be in a forthcoming revision), which means that its conflict resolution mechanics can't be purely GM-facing. It puts a lot more responsibility on the player in terms of figuring out what the hell is going on, both narratively and mechanically, because its design goals mean it has to.

That said, it might help to frame it for a 5E player like this:

Making a test in Eat God is like playing blackjack: rather than rolling as high as possible, you want to roll as high as possible without going bust; "going bust" means all of your dice came up higher than your relevant Facet.

Everybody gets one die to start. If you can use any of your Traits to help with whatever you're trying to do, you get advantage on the test and roll an extra die. Unlike 5E, advantage stacks, to a maximum of five dice.

Instead of having a separate "damage roll", Eat God gets "did I hit or miss?" and "how much damage did I do?" from a single roll. A test's "damage" is the face value of the highest die that didn't go bust; the rules refer to this "damage" as a capital-R "Result".

You can get bonuses or penalties to a test's "damage" based on how effective the GM thinks your approach is. The GM will generally tell you about these modifiers before rolling. A penalty can't turn a success into a failure, no matter your Result; just like in 5E, a successful hit always inflicts at least one "damage".

Instead of critical hits, Eat God has critical fuckups. These have a range of dice roll values that trigger them, just like conventional crits; for example, you might score a critical fuckup on a roll of 11+, just like a champion archetype fighter in 5E gets a critical hit on a roll of 19+. This range can vary depending on how goofy the GM thinks your approach is.

Critical fuckups are assessed on a per die basis, so if you're rolling multiple dice, it's possible to generate multiple critical fuckups on the same roll. Yes, this also means that rolling multiple dice makes you more likely to succeed and more likely to fuck up, and creates the possibility of doing both on the same test. This is intentional.

When you roll a critical fuckup, the GM doesn't have to make something bad happen to you right away. They can do that, or they can take the fuckup and bank it toward a countdown to a really big fuckup that affects the whole adventure. You can see this countdown, but the GM is not obligated to tell you what will happen when it hits zero.

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs #eat god #game design #playtesting #swearing

[csphire]

Sad because you need more Dammon?

Here is a guide on how to make him into your player character or guardian. ->New Guide here that includes mod suggestions!

To start with I made sure that all his stats were at least 10 in everything like his original. According to the Wiki Dammon is an Asmodeus Tiefling.

For the extra points left over, I put them into upping his Dexterity (as it helps with dodging damage), the main stat for his class (in this case Wisdom for a Druid), and a bit in Charisma just to make conversation rolls a bit easier. For background, I went with Guild Artisan to further help him with persuasion, give him some insight, and for roleplaying purposes since he was a blacksmith. For cantrips, I would highly recommend picking Guidance to further aid all conversation rolls.

For Class, I went with Druid because it lets him wield a scimitar right at the start. On the Nautolid you can usually find two of these weapons. The second reason is maybe being at the grove rubbed off on him a little. He did after all pick up a few skills while in Avernus why not at the Druid Grove too? The third reason, your doppelganger gets a discount from Arron the other merchant to be found there. But of course, you can make him any other class you wish or multi-class him. I did so myself by adding dragon sorcerer and bard to him later on. (I am tempted to try and get the Jack-of-all-Trades achievement with him.)

When it comes to his eyes there is a slight hiccup. They are currently only unique to Dammon. The closest we can get to them is Blue 3. I vaguely recalled that if one was a tiefling in Early Access even if one were to pick the more human/elven eye colors they would still have a slight glow to them. This is currently not the case as of launch and I'm not aware if there are any mods out that can give us the proper eyes. :

Actually, after some thought, another color might be better than Blue 3 called Sapphire 4 as it's a little more intense.

For make-up, I don't think Dammon wears any but I did add a subtle amount to try to make his eyes stand out a little more and added the tinest amount of color and gloss to his lips. So the following is optional. Personally, I find that particular eyeshadow comes in handy for guys overall at a 10 or 20 intensity level to make their eyes look a little deeper set and um... more broody?

For the hair, you may want to experiment with the red highlight. I don't think I got the color spot on. Below, I outlined other possibilities. On a darker red you may want to go higher in intensity than just 60.

The horns I also worry I made a touch lighter than Dammon's but if you go with a Dusty 6 or 7 that might correct the minor difference.

Below is a final side-by-side comparison in the same lighting. Again, you might wish to experiment and go with a slightly darker red for the red hair highlight and the same with the horns. Also, the dyes I end up using for his gear are Swamp Green or Green to complement his original outfit colors.

Enjoy!

And Special thanks to @deir-emmett for coming up with the guide for the Dammon Dream Visitor available here.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #Dammon #build guide #Dammon as Tav

[spacelazarwolf]

I really hate how often neo ra/df/ems will go on and on about how trans fem's transitions are waaaaaay more difficult and they're waaaaaay less likely to pass, but if a trans masc dared to make any similar comparisons, they'd be fucking crucified.

There are a lot of feelings I have around sex-based discrimination and the difficulties of a masculinizing transition. On one hand, I don't think comparing struggles like that is useful (i.e. trans women have harder transitions).

On the other hand, I feel like the reality of the situation is actually quite the opposite for many people (everyone acknowledges that testosterone makes your voice drop and you grow hair, but nobody seems to want to acknowledge hysterectomy vs orchi, voice training is still often needed, electrolysis for phallo, the fact that bottom surgery is usually multi-staged [even metoidioplasty is sometimes 2 stages] with a lot of moving parts and far worse scarring, top surgery is almost a necessity for passing whereas not every trans fem wants top surgery + scars are easier to hide, face masculinization is far less common w/ fewer options, puberty begins earlier in perisex people AFAB and puberty blockers don't always allow for full height to be achieved bc they don't typically allow you to start testosterone until you're about 15 even IF you were a "classic" trans-since-3-years-old kinda case, the extreme body horror that is accidental pregnancy and abortion and menstruation when that's dysphoric vs not being able to carry a pregnancy just feels like an insulting comparison sometimes and I've had multiple trans women call me inconsiderate for expressing horror at getting my bodily rights taken away bc "that triggers my dysphoria", testosterone is a scheduled substance and has more difficult administration methods than simply a pill, etc.)

And so I bite my tongue and try to be the better person, because stooping to that low doesn't help anything. But at the same time it's so extremely frustrating to be told that you "have it better" when, considering the facts, it REALLY feels like the opposite. There's this level of bitterness around that that I am DESPERATELY trying to resolve within myself. I have a therapist. I know it's projection. I'm working on my own bullshit. But please tell me I'm not alone in feeling this way? I just wish they'd stop with that rhetoric and realize just how difficult the average trans masc transition truly is

yeah it's really frustrating for ppl to present Trans Women's Experiences and Trans Men's Experiences as diametrically opposed, with one experience being Eternal Pain And Inescapable Suffering and the other being Barely A Blip On The Life Radar. and while i understand it's coming from a place of pain, i've also experienced a lot of trans women shutting me down when i try to talk about how abortion rights affect me. back when i was first dipping my toe into trans spaces, i was friends with a trans woman who told me it was transmisogynistic of me to want to transition because "trans women would kill to have been born in your body." and while it absolutely comes from a different place than when cis men try to assert control over me and there's not the same power dynamic, it's still a complete stranger feeling entitled to tell me what to do with my body because of the sex i was assigned at birth. it's frustrating to have people i'm supposed to be in community with play into the same sexist bullshit that other people, regardless of gender, have been holding over my head my whole life, feeling like they own my body bc women and ppl who are forcibly assigned the role of women in society are seen as public property. our bodies aren't our own. everyone feels entitled to comment on them and touch them and make decisions about them. and it sucks when it comes from other people who should understand how that feels.

and like. obviously this idea that trans men's transition is so much easier than trans women's is unhelpful bc 1. there is no one particular way for trans men to transition, 2. not everyone who transitions in the way typically associated with trans men is a trans man, 3. it doesn't take into account how disability, race, ethnicity, etc. play into people's experiences before, during, and after transition, and 4. it's just not a fucking competition????? the fact that a disabled black trans man is going to be more systemically oppressed in society than a wealthy white trans woman doesn't mean trans men as a category are Objectively More Oppressed than trans women. bc gender is like. the worst possible way to try to gauge a group's place within the system. bc at this point, gender is not the most powerful system, race is. and i feel like a fuck ton of people really do not recognize that.

another thing that has bugged me for as long as i've been in trans spaces is this bizarre attitude that trans women are doomed to this miserable life of clockability and will never be able to pass as cis women thus they must accept that their life will be nothing but pain and suffering. and that's just very much not true! i know plenty of trans women who "pass" or who are happy with their bodies, who have jobs they love and friends and family who love them, who have a community that supports and celebrates them. and it has just always rubbed me the wrong way that people think they're helping trans women by presenting their existence as Inevitably Miserable when all it does is terrify closeted trans girls who think they're better off never coming out or transitioning, or better off dying. like. we have to understand that these narratives we create, the idea of the perpetually suffering trans woman and the lonely isolated trans man, are absolutely driving people to suicidal ideation. and if we give a shit about trans people, we should be changing these narratives.

#ask avishai #atm

[oleander-nin]

The Weight of a Letter(2)

A/N: Guess who forgot it was Wednesday💀. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

Taglist? If you want to be added or removed, just say so: @ssak-i @sinister-things @ancreativename @t0ta11y-n0t-cup1d @idiotreblogger

Part 1 - Next

Words: 3233

Content warnings: mentions of stalking and paranoia, technical parental abandonment, elevators, my writing, multi-chap fic

Summary: The first one I received was innocent. Nothing more than a love letter from a secret admirer. But as more letters came, so did the fear and paranoia. Guess secret admirers aren't so romantic after all.

Chapter 2: A Lasting Effort

My eyes drift once more to the clock in the upper corner of the room, every tick of the hands captivating my attention more than the teacher could ever dream of. My leg bounces under the desk, my hands sneaking the supplies on my desk back into my bag, hoping to the stars above I wouldn’t be caught and held back. I jump at the sound of the bell despite my preparation, all caution quickly thrown to the wind as I toss my bag over my shoulder. I catch the tail end of the homework reminder as I dash out of the door, weaving in between the other students and faculty. The simple thought of the dreaded homework made me have half a mind to become a dropout, knowing that it’d be a pain to complete in time. It blew my mind that she had the nerve to assign two pages of notes to go over and solve by the next class, right before finals.

I keep my head down as I run through the halls, muscle memory helping me find my way to my locker. While stopping between each class can get annoying, I really did appreciate not having to drag all of my belongings to every single class. I adjust my bag on my shoulder, wanting nothing more than to drop off the unnecessary supplies and books weighing me down.

I turn the last corner and stop in front of my locker, the click of the dial as it turns soothing my ragged nerves. Right before I get to the last number of the sequence, two hands land harshly on my shoulders. I jump in surprise and my hand turns violently from the sudden movement, cursing under my breath as I mess up the number sequence. I try to pick up the latch, wiggling it around as I desperately try to convince my locker to open, but alas, it stays shut. I slam my palm into the locker, venting out a small bit of frustration before I turn to look at the cheeky-eyed perpetrator.

“Seriously Irma? You couldn’t have waited ‘till, oh I don’t know, my locker was actually open?” I say, my lips pressing together into a thin line. I glare playfully at her before turning to start opening my locker once more, my hands spinning the dial to get the numbers to get the correct numbers in place. The lanky brunette shrugs as she moves to lean up against my locker, her smug grin never falling off her face.

“I mean, would you have rathered me do it when you had your laptop in your hands? I think doing it now was a sign of my humble mercy.” 

I ignore her antics as I finally getting my locker open. I do a small fist pump in celebration, a grin of accomplishment on my face. Her laughter reaches my ears, her being obviously amused by my simple achievement. I bat at her hands that have started to poke at my side, glaring at the grinning brunette once more.

Her babbling chatter reaches my ear as she starts to tell me about her upcoming basketball game tomorrow, her fists pumping up and down in small motions as she bounces on the balls of her feet. I swung my bag so it was in front of me, making it easier to start depositing my supplies into my bag. I mess with the zippers, struggling to get my bag open when the chatter stops and two hands are on my shoulders once more, shaking me violently. I pretend to bite at her hands and she lets go, squealing as she points into my locker. I follow her finger, something catching my eye. In the middle of my locker atop the discarded papers and old notebooks sits a little white envelope, my name scrawled on the front alongside a heart-shaped box. Sitting on top of both objects was a single red tulip in full bloom, the color vibrant and eye-catching. The flowers' delicate perfection amazed me, almost seeming as if it wasn’t real, something manufactured by delicate, loving hands. I set my bag down on the ground next to my feet, my hands grabbing at the objects as if I was in a trance.

The brunette snorts at the sight, laughing as she gazes upon my hypnotic state. Her laughter breaks my trance and I roll my eyes at her, popping open the box of chocolates. I look them over, smiling slightly. It was quite obvious they were homemade, the chocolates muddled and misshapen with a piece of parchment paper lining the inside of the small heart box. My heart melts at the sincerity, it was sweet to know someone took such care to make me something like this. Irma snickers slightly at the sight of the chocolate, bumping my shoulder with her own. “They’ll need to get their money back, those look more like lumps of coal than chocolate.”

I playfully hit her on her side and she laughs, covering her mouth as it turns into a snort. I roll my eyes, sticking my tongue out at her. “You’re just jealous no one made you chocolate too.” I toss one of the sweets into my mouth and let it melt on my tongue as I open up the envelope, caressing the flower in my hand while I read. 

Dear (Y/n),

I was told that getting things off one’s chest would help clear the mind, so I made the executive decision to let you be aware of my interest in you. You have wormed your way into my heart, and while a part of me detests that, I have finally come to the conclusion that this interest I have in you is better than it is worse. The mere thought of you makes me smile, and I want you more than anything in the world. You are the reason I strive to be all I am and I will not disappoint you. You are more special to me than any of my inventions, and despite my efforts, nothing I do even comes close to how you make me feel. A part of me is scared of expressing my feelings to you in a more 'normal' way lest you react negatively, so I chose this method of semi-confession instead. I am not quite ready to reveal myself to you, and this method of expression seems appropriate in keeping my anonymity while still appeasing the need to make you aware of how I feel. You truly are the most important thing to me and one day I will find the courage to tell you properly. I would give everything to you if you asked, I only need you to wait a little longer. I can’t describe my feelings in the way I want to, and I have never been a man of words, so I hope the gifts and the knowledge that someone as great as I is formally addressing his desire for you suffice for now. I learned how to make chocolate for you, and I would do so much more for you given the chance. I know you will not be disappointed when you figure out who I am, after all, there is no one better for you than me.

-Othello Von Ryan

When I notice peering eyes trying to read over my shoulder, I angle the note towards the brunette to make it easier for her to read. I nudge the open box of sweets towards her, silently offering her to try one. They were really good, much better tasting than they looked. Knowing the mystery man learned how to make them just for me made them all the more sweeter. Accepting the chocolate with a grin, she pops it into her mouth as she bends down to see the love letter. She seemed to scan more than read however as she quickly looked back up at me, curiosity painting her features.

“Someone’s egotistical, eh? I gotta admire their resolve though. Let’s just wait to see if they’re as great as they claim to be. Got any idea who it is?” Irma scans the note once more to see if the handwriting was familiar, analyzing every loop and smudge in the letters. A slight frown tugs at the corners of her mouth, unable to match the handwriting with anyone she knew.

“Nope,” I pop the p at my statement, mentally running through all the people I know. The letter was too sincere seeming to be a joke, but I also couldn’t quite trust it. I didn’t know anyone who might write something like this, let alone have the possibility to love me enough to claim such things. “Can’t say I do. Especially no one called ‘Von Ryan’. I’m more concerned about how they got all this into my locker, however. The slits aren’t big enough to fit the chocolates or the tulip.”

The side shaved girl mutters something at my shoulder, and I turn my head to give her my full attention. She looks at me and shakes her head. “Sorry, I’m just trying to think of possible people who wrote it. And yeah, how they managed to get it into your locker is strange, but maybe you left it slightly dislodged earlier?” 

I think back to the earlier passing periods, completely sure I shut my locker all the way. I know I shut it all the way, considering I always jiggle the lock to make sure it’s shut. I had trouble freshman year with people stealing my stuff and I wanted to make sure it never happens again.

But maybe I didn’t do it as well as I thought. Doubt starts to flood my mind as I try to picture how I shut my locker earlier. I couldn’t quite remember if I did it as securely as I usually did this morning, considering I was in a rush. I shrug it off, assuming they might have shoved it in somehow completely ignoring how the chocolate box was way too thick to fit through the small slits, and that the flower would’ve been demolished as soon as someone tried. Maybe tomorrow I can try to see if I can brute force open my locker and check if that’s how the gifts were delivered. 

I put the note back into its envelope and put it into my bag along with the chocolates, being careful not to crush the tulip I was keeping in my palm. I grabbed the rest of my stuff out of my locker as well, carefully checking to make sure I had everything I needed before we left. “Oh well, hopefully I’ll figure it out soon. I mean, the worst it can be is a prank, right?”

My friend nods, shooting me an enthusiastic smile accompanied with a thumbs up. “Yeah, that’s the spirit! You’ll find out who it is soon. And keep me updated, will you? This is so cool, it’s like a bad rom-com!”

I laugh at their excitement, nodding as we begin to walk towards the front exit of the school. I let Irma change the subject to her upcoming basketball game against a rival school. I push the letter to the back of my mind as she gushes about different strategies and such. Figuring out who sent it can wait, after all, it’s only a love letter, chocolates, and a flower. What’s the harm in that?

I push open the front door of the school, holding it open as I bow mockingly. “For you, m’lady.” I tease, grinning at her. Irma rolls her eyes, bapping her palm against my forehead.

“You’re such a dork, you know that?” She states, pushing me to the side of the sidewalk farthest from the road. I stumble into the strip of grass lining the concrete, laughing as I move back onto the path. We link arms, pinkies interlocking as we continue to throw insults at each other in good fun, occasionally shoving each other towards the grass.

We move more into the city area, heading to our shared apartment building. I glance around the area, shrinking back slightly as the hair on my neck raises. The feeling of being watched floods my veins, my hand not holding the tulip moving to fiddle with the hem of my shirt. Irma notices and pulls me closer, looping an arm around my shoulder. “Are you still seeing the shadows following you?”

I nod, sighing. Irma grimaces, gently squeezing my arm. “It’s been 3 months, Y/n. You need to tell someone.”

I shake my head. She made a good point, but what would I tell someone? I kept seeing shadowy figures following me? I always felt like I was being watched? I’d be passed off as crazy or paranoid. It wouldn’t go anywhere. Plus, it’s not like I had proof. My fingers rub at the petals of the flower in my hand, feeling soft against my fingertips. Irma shakes me slightly at my non-verbal no, groaning in slight frustration. “I believe you, if it makes you feel better.”

I roll my shoulders, humming in response as I lean my head against her as we walk. Irma pats my arm in sympathy, her eyes darting across the street for incoming cars or danger. She opens her mouth to say something else, but closes it again. She leans her head against mine, not knowing how to help. So instead, she changes the subject. “Any word from that mystery guy at the dump you won’t tell me about?”

I snort, rolling my eyes fondly. I was thankful for the topic shift, not wanting to discuss my unwarranted paranoia for the past few weeks. “Nope. Haven’t seen him since. At this point, I think he’s hiding from me.”

Irma chuckles at that, letting go of me as she moves to open the door of the apartment building. I duck under her outstretched arm, reaching the door before her. I open it, bowing once more as I grin at her. “Here you are, m’lady.”

Irma shakes her head, moving into the building as I follow behind, letting the door swing shut behind us. We make our way to the elevators, Irma pressing on the call button repeatedly. I stand beside her, bouncing on the balls of my feet in anticipation. “You’re coming to my game, right?” Irma asks, looking at me as the elevator arrives. We stand to the side as a small group of people come out, moving in once they disperse. Irma hits the buttons for our respective floors, her hands running over the braille underneath the buttons in comfort.

“It’s tomorrow, right?” I confirm, looking at the lanky teen. She nods, grinning. My stomach lurches slightly when the elevator starts to move, my back leaning against the wall.

“Oh, it’s going to be so cool! I’m going to beat that stupid school into the ground, they won’t even know what hit them!” Her eyes are filled with joyful delight, her fists moving up and down in a quick repeated motion. I smile at her excitement, happy she’s so pumped for the game. I came to all of her games, there was no way I would miss this one.

The elevator stops on Irma’s floor and she gets off, waving at me as she adjusts her backpack on her shoulder. “See you tomorrow then! Remember, the game starts at 10 o’clock in the morning!”

I watch her walk down the hall as the elevator doors close, moving to a corner of the metal box and pressing my back against it. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I pull and twist at my fingers as the elevator brings me higher, stopping at my floor with a small ding. I exit quickly, making a beeline for my apartment. I unlock the door with the key I kept in my backpack, jiggling the doorknob up and to the right so it actually opens. I take off my shoes before stepping into the foyer, the faded carpet on the ground feeling plush against my socked feet. I try to ignore the bags piled next to the door, the shadows of my parents in their room still packing leaking into the hall. I drop my bag off on my bed, moving to the kitchen with the tulip still in my hand.

I grab an empty vase from atop the fridge, bringing it to the sink and filling it with water. I set the tulip in it, carrying it back to my room. I wipe the vase with my shirt, trying to clear off all the water droplets before setting it on my desk. I look at it for a moment more before leaving my room, shutting the door softly behind me. 

My parents exit their room, both discussing their trip. I step out of their way, letting them cross the hall to put their stuff down at the door. One turns to me, smiling gently. They cup my face in their hands, squishing my cheeks. I try to pull away from their touch but they huff angrily, over exaggerating a pout.

“I’m leaving tonight and you won’t even let me cuddle you? You’re my kid, you can’t pull away.” They say, continuing their assault on my cheeks. I finally pull back enough and they let go, huffing. They pout while my other parents stands at the door, looking over the luggage.

“Is that everything?” They ask, turning to the other who had me trapped in a hug. My captor nods, grinning. "That's all. We're ready to go." They give me one more squeeze before letting me go, moving to grab some of the bags.

My parent who was by the door earlier cross the space to stand next to me, pulling me into a tight hug. I hug back, sighing softly. They kiss me on the forehead, rubbing my back comfortingly. "Don't do anything stupid while we're gone, okay? We'll be back before you know it. You're turning 18 in a month, we'll call you, okay? No parties, and try not to die or get kidnapped while we're gone. We'll be back by the time summer ends."

I sigh, leaning my head on their chest. They pat my back before pulling away, grabbing the rest of the bags before moving to join my other parent who had already left. "Don't be stupid. We love you."

And then they're both gone, luggage in their arms as the door shuts behind them. I stand stupidly in the hallway for a moment more, not sure how to feel. My emotions are high and my hands are shaking, clenched into fists at my side. I stare at the door, a part of me willing them to walk back through, to laugh and joke with me like they weren't going to leave for half a year. Like they weren't going to miss my 18th birthday. I shake my head, turning on my heel and heading back to my room. It didn't matter. They were gone and there was nothing I could do about it but wait. I had all the time in the world. I frown, my lip trembling slightly. I move onto my bed and slide under the covers, pulling the blankets over my head. I promised myself I wouldn't cry.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt donnie #yandere rottmnt #yandere tmnt #yan tmnt #yan rottmnt #yandere donnie #yandere story #tw stalking #tw paranoia #rottmnt yandere donnie #tw yandere #male yandere #yandere #yandere male #yandere donnie x reader #donatello hamato #tmnt donatello #donatello #donnie rottmnt #rotttmnt #yandere donatello #donatello x reader #tmnt drawing #yandere donatello hamato #yandere donatello x reader

[whoblewboobear]

I was kinda dreading the “Brennan railroading or being a bad DM” posts bc I had a feeling they were coming. At the end of the day, If the table is having fun literally who cares.

This is a table full of comedians that can and will commit so hard to the bit that it becomes an entire 2 hours where nothing gets accomplished. With this being a show, you can’t do that.

For everything with Fig/Emily she’s a phenomenal player that will go above and beyond, she thinks outside of the box and she’s the player I aspire to be BUT that’s also a DMs nightmare sometimes because you have to decide what you do and don’t take seriously. Like.. I genuinely think if Emily could’ve avoided picking exactly what she wanted Fig to multi class in, she absolutely would’ve for as long as possible because that’s exactly what fig /would/ do. But because there’s a narrative to tell, Brennan has to do some reigning in. There’s probably a ton of behind the scenes conversations from DM to player to decide what direction their characters should go in.

The stakes are high for the party especially when Fig and Kristen potentially failing could lead to the entire group becoming pass/fail. Fig not committing to a class could’ve fucked a lot up and sent the entire season in a completely different direction. Which, in a home game wouldn’t be too detrimental if you’re doing theater of the mind but yall, they have sets and different plot threads and beats the HAVE TO be hit.

Do I hate that on paper fig is a barbarian now purely because it was a call that Porter made to spite Fig & Gorgug? YES. But if Fig had the choice to keep doing fuck all, it would’ve been bad for everyone in game especially when downtime and stress tokens are in the mix. Having Emily roll with a high chance of failing with like.. 4 different academic tracks would be just as scary if not more than it already is with Zac’s rolls for Gorgug. Some thing has to give and if it makes at least one person’s life easier then I think it was the right call to get that MCAT signed. She fully had the chance to have the bard teacher sign and didn’t. That’s a consequence of actions

#not all his calls are gonna be fun especially if you’re a huge fig/emily fan (me 🤧💖) but sometimes they’re necessary #also Is2g if you read this and get angry this post isn’t for you #blah blah reading comprehension and all that #d20 fhjy #d20 fantasy high #dimension 20 #fhjy #Brennan is objectively a stellar DM

[cophene]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄 | ohshc; twenty-two.

* • ° by some twist of fate

previous chapter || next chapter || table of contents

pairing : ohshc x gn reader summary : perhaps no one at ouran is more qualified to deal with a broken heart than the host club. with a student’s heartbreak painfully obvious to everyone but themself, the host club takes it upon themselves to remedy that. all against that student’s better judgement. notes : multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 2.2k+

Embarrassingly, Keiji found you as you were standing outside, calling your chauffeur to pick you up. As he appeared in your periphery, you genuinely considered hopping into one of the random cars that were pulling up alongside the pavement, or maybe feigning a phone call and walking in the opposite direction. But Keiji reached you before you could decide on either of these things, and the small, uncertain smile he gave you stopped all trains of thought.

“Hey,” he said. 

“Hey,” you said. 

He looked good. It was easier to admit that now that he was standing right in front of you. His eyes. His jaw. His stupidly perfect hair that Renge had astutely pointed out. You suddenly felt ridiculous in your flowy shirt and loose trousers.

“We didn’t get a chance to talk earlier. I guess I was too nervous about my speech to remember that you would be here. Stupid of me.”

“There are a lot of people here tonight,” you said. “More than we usually have. They must have come for you.” The words were faintly surprising to you. Slightly teasing, slightly mocking. Like how the two of you had used to talk.

“Yeah, I doubt that.” Keiji shook his head and laughed quietly. You were staring at him. You had to stop.

“Is it okay if we talk? I know we left things kind of … in the air.”

You had been dreading those words. Can we talk? After Malta, all you had wanted to do was talk but now that Keiji was here and you were hearing his voice and seeing the slight quirk in his lips—

“Okay,” you said over your pounding heart. “Yeah, we can talk.”

You needed to take control so you led Keiji to somewhere quiet—still outside, though, in case you needed to make an escape. You sat on the steps of one of the side entrances and after a beat, Keiji joined you. A good few inches away, but it still felt too close.

“So,” you both said at the same time, and then stopped. Keiji smiled. You tried not to. 

“What happened to you?” you blurted. You couldn’t handle these false starts and bashful smiles anymore. “You said we would keep in touch. We had each other’s numbers. Were you really that busy?” For weeks on end? Not even a text? I had to assume we broke up. Do you know how hard that was? I kept giving myself false hope. Is that what you wanted?

Keiji frowned. He glanced at you, and then off into the distance. “I don’t really know how to tell you this.”

“Just tell me. I think it’s the least you owe me. We spend all that time together and then nothing. Did you enjoy leading me on? Is that it? Did you expect to win me back tonight?”

“No, that’s not it at all,” Keiji said. The force behind his words caught you off guard. He sighed. “I was scared, okay? I didn’t know how I felt about you, but I could tell that you really liked me. Maybe more than I was ready for. I didn’t know how to react. So I didn’t say anything when you left to give myself time to think. And then when I figured it out, so much time had passed by already and it seemed easier to just leave things be. I didn’t know how to bring it up without making things awkward. It was a stupid thing to do, but it was the only thing I was comfortable with. I know I should have said something. However you feel about it, it’s completely warranted. It’s probably unfair of me to assume that we can just go back to being friends but I’m sorry. I should have realized however uncomfortable I felt, how you felt would have been worse. I really am sorry. I’m stupid. I know that.”

You hadn’t looked at Keiji the entire time he’d spoken. This wasn’t like his speeches. It was rushed, long-winded, confusing. But his heart was still there. Keiji never said what he didn’t mean.

That didn’t mean it was any less of a sucker punch though. His words stung; everything you hadn’t wanted to hear.

“I thought you hated me,” you said, your voice hoarse. “I thought I did something wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It was just me. I just didn’t know how to handle things.”

You shouldn’t ask. It would only make things worse. But you wanted to hear Keiji say the words you were thinking.

“What do you mean, you didn’t know how you felt about me? I thought—weren’t we together?”

Keiji must have found it just as hard to look at you as you did him. His jaw was clenched.

“I liked you. A lot. Being together seemed natural at the time but—I don’t want to hurt you.”

You already are. “I want to see it from your side, Keiji. Tell me what you couldn’t before.”

Keiji swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I liked what we had together. Being with you, listening to you, all the time we spent, I don’t regret that. It’s just that I never felt … more than that. Even after the first time we kissed and every time after that. It was nice, but … it wasn’t what I was looking for.”

In all of the times that you had run through this scenario, you had never considered this. The electric thrill of his touch, the way his smile jolted butterflies in your stomach, the way his voice could dip and send everything haywire—

Keiji had felt none of that. Or at least, nothing like you had.

“You’re an amazing person,” Keiji said when you stayed silent. His voice trembled slightly. “You’re smart and funny and you put your entire heart into everything you do. You were perfect. It’s just somehow … you’re not my person.”

Despite everything, his voice was still sweet. Still adorably sincere. It was the only thing keeping you from going over—how earnest Keiji was. He didn’t mean to hurt you. This was just the truth.

Keiji’s hand found yours. He squeezed it, and when you looked at him, his smile wobbled.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so stupid. But I hope you understand.”

It would be easy to hate Keiji. To wonder what any of that in Malta had meant and why you had wasted so much time hung up on someone who didn’t  feel the same. But you did understand. In a different life, the two of you might have played out the way you and Mayako had. It was awkward and uncomfortable but feelings were like that sometimes. You didn’t hate Mayako and you didn’t hate Keiji. There wasn’t much you could do to reign in your feelings once they were set on someone.

You squeezed Keiji’s hand back. He slid his hand over your shoulder and drew you to him.

“You really are amazing. You’ll find someone. Someone way better than me.”

“What I don’t get is how you managed to come here at all to speak at the gala,” you said.

“Your parents were the ones who reached out to me,” Keiji replied. Then, before you could storm off for their heads, he added, “I think they knew I needed to talk to you. Or maybe they didn’t. I just knew that I had to use this opportunity to see you. No matter how scared I was.”

“I’m glad you told me, Keiji. I can’t say everything is okay, but … I appreciate your honesty.”

Keiji looked into your face. His eyes softened at whatever he saw there.

“I should get going then,” he said, rising to his feet. “I—see you later?”

You nodded, your throat suddenly tight. Keiji walked away, slowly, as if he were waiting for you to call out to him. You didn’t. 

You didn't know how long you sat out there on the steps, not thinking about anything in particular. The Host Club was probably wondering where you were. You didn’t want to go back to the gala, but you didn’t want to go home either. You felt listless. Strangely empty.

Someone cleared their throat and you nearly jolted out of your skin.

“Mori, you scared the crap out of me,” you hissed as Mori melted uncannily into view. It wasn’t fair that someone so tall could move so quietly.

He gave you a once-over. You must have looked bad because he asked, “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

You shrugged. Mori took up the spot Keiji had been in a few minutes ago. His long legs took up more space, though, and his knee brushed against yours slightly.

“You must have heard everything,” you said dully.

“I didn’t hear anything. I only saw you and Keiji go around the corner. I waited for a while after I saw Keiji leave, but you didn’t follow, so I came to check on you.”

“Well, here I am. Still in one piece.” You sounded weary. You were weary, you realized. Suddenly all you wanted to do was lie down and close your eyes.

“... Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” you sighed. “Things could be worse. I could be on fire. Or you could be on fire. Or, worse yet, we could both be on fire.”

Mori’s mouth twitched. “That would be the worst thing?”

“Of course. Compared to that, a talk with your ex is nothing.” Your voice chipped off at that. You felt your eyes burning. The urge to cry hadn’t surfaced since Keiji had left but maybe now was it.

“You sound like you’re going to cry.”

“Geez, Mori, keep this up and I just might.” You drew up your legs and rested your forehead on your knees. “I feel so dumb, Mori. I thought Keiji and I were supposed to be something. But Keiji didn’t feel any of that. How did I read the signals so wrong?”

“It’s hard to tell what people think.”

“Yeah, but you’re supposed to know, aren’t you? When it comes to things like this? Aren’t you supposed to know who your person is?”

“When has it ever been that simple?” Mori whispered, and those words nearly did you in. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling tears slide down your cheeks.

“I liked him. I like him a lot. I’ve never felt like that about anyone. Keiji was my first crush.”

“He’s a good guy. You’re lucky to have met him.”

You gave an enormous sniff and wiped your face with your sleeve. You punched Mori in the arm and he looked at you, surprised.

“You, me and Honey. That’s the way things should have stayed. Me talking your ear off during Math while Honey did my homework. You remember that? None of this Keiji bullshit. I didn’t know what love was. I was still playing volleyball. I was blissfully ignorant about the Host Club. Those were the days.”

You were putting up a brave front and Mori seemed to know it. Thankfully, he didn’t press it.

“Those can still be the days,” he said. “Volleyball season is starting up again.”

“Yeah, but my hours with the Host Club are some that I can never get back.”

You got to your feet and pulled Mori up too, even though he didn’t need you.

“Let’s get back inside. They’re going to be wrapping up the gala soon and I want to know who won the competition.”

You were grateful for Mori’s quiet presence as you returned to the gala. He was steady and reassuring. He just understood you. You didn’t need to spell everything out for him.

And then panic doused you like ice water.

“Oh shit! I’m supposed to present the award cheque!”

“The what?”

“For the winner! The 300 000 yen!” Your parents loved the humongous display cheques used during lotteries and made a similar one every year for the gala. They’d asked you a few times to be the one to hand it off but you’d always declined. Your father had feigned a heart attack when you’d actually agreed this year. You’d feel even worse than you already did if they thought you had ditched them.

You started sprinting back to the dining hall and the stage, thanking your volleyball coach for all of those laps he’d forced on the team. You skidded into the dining hall just as the judges were wrapping up their closing remarks, startling a few of the back tables of people. You darted backstage, grabbed the giant cheque from a waiting stagehand and hurried up the stage steps, trying not to trip. 

“Oh! And there’s our prize money! Thought someone made off with it,” your father quipped as your mother shot you a dirty look. The audience chuckled and you plastered on a grin, brandishing the cheque in front of you. You even flipped it into the air, earning a few more chuckles. You thought you might have seen Keiji in the crowd, but you couldn’t be sure.

A mousy college student was announced as this year’s winner. When her work was brought forward, you weren’t surprised in the least to see it was the lane of sakura trees you and the twins had been admiring earlier. The college student gave a few words of thanks, expressing her hope to use the prize money to rent out a studio. There was more applause. Praise given to the runner-ups. You grinned broadly through it all, genuinely happy for the college student. Mostly, you just wanted to go home and throw yourself into bed to decompress.

The gala drew to a close. Your parents squeezed your shoulders and moved off to give obligatory farewells to sponsors and patrons. You hung around to help with dismantling the stage.

“Oi, Y/N, we thought Keiji strangled you out there,” Hikaru called from below the stage as you were passing down set pieces. Somehow, the Host Club had taken over from the volunteers your parents had recruited.

“Nope. Still here,” you said, passing down a chair.

“Well what happened?” Renge said, practically drooling for gossip. “What did Keiji say?”

“That’s none of our business,” Haruhi said flatly.

“Thank you, Haruhi. All you need to know is that me and Keiji sorted things out. We set the record straight.”

“So you hugged and made up?” Honey said. “That’s great! I’m so glad!”

“As long as they didn’t kiss and make up,” Hikaru snickered, to which both Kaoru and Haruhi glared at him.

“You seem different,” Tamaki said as you passed down the last of the chairs. “Sad, but relieved. You are okay, right?”

Sad but relieved. That seemed about right. You had your closure now. You and Keiji hadn’t broken up. Only drifted apart because you hadn’t really been together to begin with.

You’re not going to cry until you’re alone in your bedroom, you internally snapped as your eyes started burning again.

Once the stage was cleared, you realized you hadn’t heard Kyoya’s droll voice at all. You wondered where he was until you realized he hadn’t bothered to help with the cleanup and was instead off in the corner, speaking to a few of the judges. Your mother had even drifted over there at some point and they all laughed at something he said.

Kiss-ass.

“Thanks for helping, everyone,” you said, dusting off your hands on your pants. “I think we should be good to go now.” You made to hop off the edge of the stage instead of using the stairs, too lazy to take them. It wasn’t that high off the ground anyway.

“Wait, Y/N, don’t!” Haruhi yelled, but it was too late.

You had misjudged the distance from the stage to the ground. Or else your shoes had skidded on something. Whatever it was, instead of a neat hop, your foot slipped and then you were toppling off of the stage, letting out a strangled scream.

If it had been an anime or a manga, you might have righted yourself just in time and landed firmly on your feet with a cocky grin. Or Haruhi, being the closest person at the time, would grab your arm, saving you from a nasty fall.

But this unfortunately was cold, cruel reality. You tripped, your heart shooting into your throat. The only manga-like thing that happened was the astonishing speed that Mori had, rushing out to break your fall.

He didn’t catch you bridal-style, or even catch you at all, really. You knocked him to the ground with a loud crash that had to have broken something. By some twist of fate, you ended up on top of him—

—your mouth on his.

previous chapter || next chapter || table of contents

#disceohshc #ohshc x reader #ohshc #ouran high school host club #ouran host club #gender neutral reader

[camp-mithril-lake]

In a society built around the Grand Cybertronian Taxonomy that is obsessively revised and reinterpreted, the one thing that never changes—the one thing that must never change—is the system itself. Every revision, every reinterpretation takes place within a rigid framework of social stratification. Nothing must threaten the Functionists’ core philosophy: utility as an organizing principle. If you could step outside the system you would recognize it for what it is: a prison, worse than that, it is a prison full of willing prisoners. And not only are you a prisoner within the system, you are a prisoner within your own body. Whether you were born or made, forged or constructed cold, you are trapped inside your alt mode. The Functionists built the lock and the Senate holds the key, but most of us are unaware we’re locked in. Make no mistake: your life is mapped out in front of you, as clear as the grooves in your transformation cog. You can no more choose to change jobs than Cybertron can choose to stop orbiting the sun. You can no more acquire a skill unrelated to your vocation than the sky can acquire a conscience. In denying you the ability to reject your alt mode—in preventing you from pursuing a path of your own choosing—both the Senate and the Council say they are acting in your best interests. They have a responsibility, they say, to ensure that you make best use of your god-given form. If you turn into a drill, it is because Primus knows that Cybertron needs drills. To deviate from your function is to risk invoking the wrath of God and bringing the world to its knees. In truth, it is about control. A multi-skilled population is an empowered population. And if you reject your alt mode, what next? Would you reject your class? Would you reject your government?   The Functionists don’t rely solely on theology when rebutting arguments for change. Working outside of your alt mode would be confusing, they say. Imagine being treated by a medic with tank treads; you would question their competence. And they extend the same question to miners. “Would you feel comfortable working alongside a microscope?” And to the military: “Would you put your life in the hands of a soldier who turns into a data slug?” And it is true. People would be unnerved—at first. But the Functionists—enabled by the Senate—have created the conditions that have given rise to this culture of suspicion; and they have done so deliberately, because it reinforces the status quo. Moreover, it fosters division, and division is another means by which they can control the population. The more walls you can put up between people, the easier it is to contain them, and the stronger the structural integrity of the system. And that is why when you see a stranger you don’t think, “What are they like?” You think, “What are they for?” You don’t think, “What are their hopes, dreams, aspirations?” You think, “What do they do?” And then you think, “Where are they positioned in relation to me? Do they sit above, alongside, or below? Are they better than me, or I them?” Even if you believe in the Grand Cybertronian Taxonomy, ask yourself this: who decides on that order? And then: why should there be an order? And that is the question that the Senate and the Functionists fear the most, because they know that their world would collapse if people arrived at the answer. Why should there be an order? I’ll tell you: there shouldn’t be. Be happy in your work, they say, for it enriches you. Be grateful for your alt mode, for it defines you. Be thankful for the system—it protects you. Be mindful of your betters—they think for you. I say enough. Reject your work. Reject your alt mode. Resist the system. And your “betters”? You have none. We are all equal. And we have a right to decide how to live our lives.

Megatron of Tarn, Towards Peace

#idw transformers #idw megatron #transformers worldbuilding

[pedroscurls]

Title: Broken Souls

Character(s): Joel Miller, Reader (female, second person POV) Summary: What happens when you realize love isn’t enough? And when years later, you meet again that all the pain and heartbreak comes rushing back... Like it never left. Word Count: 2,017 Author's Note: This idea has been brewing in my mind for a while now since I wanted to write a very angsty story. For now, this will remain as a one-shot, but I might come back to it later and delve it into a multi-chaptered story. Anyways, enjoy and thank you for reading!  Warning: Angst. A lot of it. Also mentions of alcoholism/use of drugs.

You knew Joel and Tommy long before the outbreak. Being Joel’s neighbor meant that Sarah was over quite often whenever he was stuck at work, which happened to be most of the time. You didn’t mind though; you had developed a very strong bond with the young girl and a crush on her father. 

It had taken Joel a while before he finally asked you out on a date and it excited Sarah so much to know that her two favorite people were together. She always made it known that she couldn’t wait until you and Joel got married, already looking up to you as a mother figure in her life. Joel always told her it was too early to tell, but he would always spare you a glance as if he was saying…

Not right now, but we’ll get there.

Being with Joel gave you a glimpse of a life you always dreamed of. The fact that his presence always made you feel safe and seeing him with Sarah always made your heart flutter. He was such an amazing dad and despite working so much, he always managed to find a way to make it up to her. 

You and Joel were together for about two years before Outbreak Day. Your lives had changed all in one night and Sarah…

It still hurts to think about that night. Being there with Joel, with Tommy, seeing Sarah take her last breath in her father’s arms… It was never going to be the same anymore. 

But that was twenty years ago. 

And it had been ten years since you last saw Joel. 

No one had ever come close to him. No one had ever made you feel as safe as he did, as loved as he did, and every night, nightmares plagued your dreams. You couldn’t sleep, not after everything you had done to survive. 

Not after your decision to leave Joel ten years ago. 

It was the toughest decision you ever had to make, but it was one where you decided to choose yourself over the man that Joel had become. 

Long gone was the man who was so full of life, of love… He had become a broken shell of a man, putting up walls around himself not even you could break through. And you were tired. Tired of seeing him work himself day in and day out, busying himself of the thoughts you were sure were plaguing him as well. 

But you had enough. You were exhausted, seeing him numb his feelings with alcohol and pills. He hadn’t said he loved you since that night he lost Sarah and while you couldn’t even fathom the pain he felt as a father, it was as if he dismissed your feelings and your pain while numbing his own. 

“I’m tired, Joel,” you said, seeing him seated at the small table with a bottle of alcohol and pills he managed to trade for. While he had done odd jobs in the middle of the day, he was also smuggling every other night, which made his and your life a bit easier than most. 

“Then go to sleep,” he replied, void of any emotion.

“Joel, that’s not what I mean.”

Joel took a deep breath and looked over at you. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, you could still visibly see the pain in his eyes. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me that me being here is enough, that you love me, that you’re hurting… I want you to just be open with me.”

“M’fine,” he replied.

“You aren’t!” You stood over him, hands on your hips and tears stinging your eyes. “Why can’t you just say it?”

“This world is fucked and I’m doin’ my best.” Again, no emotion. No reaction. 

“You’re killing yourself slowly, do you realize that?” You said with a shaky breath. “I am watching you numb your feelings every night and it hurts. I am hurting… I was there that night too and–”

“Don’t,” he replied, his jaw tightening. Finally, a reaction. “Don’t say her name.”

“Joel,” you sighed. “I miss her too. You think I just forgot? That I just stopped thinking about her? You aren’t the only one that lost something!”

“She was my daughter.” Anger laced his voice. He was looking at you in a way he never had before and it terrified you. 

“I know,” you sighed heavily. “But I loved her too…”

Joel shook his head. He grabbed the bottle and took a long swig of it, staring up at you. Then, he set the bottle down and stood from his seat. In this moment, you felt so small, so tiny in comparison to him. You had always felt safe with Joel, but not right now. 

“You want to leave?” Joel said. “Then go. I ain’t stoppin’ you.”

“Joel,” you whispered, tears now trickling down your face. “I want you to tell me that you love me, that our love is enough in this shitty world, that we can heal together!” 

“I can’t!” Joel yelled. “I’m not the man I was and I don’t think I ever will be! I ain’t gonna beg you to stay, so if you wanna leave, then fuckin’ go.”

“When did this all change?” You said quietly, wiping your tears away from your face. “When did we drift apart…?” 

“The day the world ended,” Joel replied. And there it was. A slight quiver of his lip. It was barely there, but you noticed it. He was in so much pain and yet, he didn’t want to admit it. He was fine with the way things were, but you weren’t. As much as you needed him, you didn’t want to continuously watch him waste away. You didn’t want to continue to wait for him every night, watching him go straight for the alcohol and pills to help him sleep. 

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t even blame him for what he was feeling. 

You just wished you were strong enough to stick around. 

“I love you too much,” you whispered. You were staring at him, taking note of every inch of his face because you were sure this was going to be the last time you would see him. Behind his facade was a man who was once happy, filled with so much love. The man you were looking at now… was void of it all. “But I can’t stay here, knowing that one day you might not come home.”

Joel felt his heart breaking. He wanted to give you what you wanted, wanted to be the man you deserved, but he couldn’t. He lost a part of himself when Sarah died and he was sure there was nothing that could help. Not even you. He didn’t want you to leave, but he knew you deserved better. 

Better than him. 

“Then go,” he said quietly, softly, voice trembling just a bit. “Go…”

“After all that we’ve been through?” You replied. You were yearning for him to just say don’t leave. 

But your hope was crushed the moment he replied. 

“Yes.”

That was all it took. You weren’t going to beg anymore. As much as you hated him at that moment, you still leaned up to gently peck his lips. You could feel him kissing you back, but you pulled away as quickly as he tried to continue it. You knew that if you didn’t leave now, you weren’t ever going to. 

“I hope…” you said with a shaky breath, tears now falling continuously down your cheeks. “I hope you find happiness again, Joel, because if anyone deserves it, it’s you…” 

Joel stared at you, his eyes softening for the first time in a long time. But it wasn’t enough to make you stay. 

Your love wasn’t enough and it hurt. It hurt like hell. Love was supposed to conquer everything, but right now, it just wasn’t enough. 

“I love you,” you continued, bringing your hand to cup his cheek, feeling his beard against your fingertips. He leaned against your touch, never breaking eye contact. You knew this was it, so you tried to memorize his face, the way his skin felt against yours, and it just broke you even more. “But I can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry.”

Joel then pulled away, walked back to the small table and looked away. “Me too.” 

—

Ten years later and here you were, at Jackson. You still couldn’t bring yourself up to say his name, but the conversations you had with Tommy about him always left you a crying mess in the comfort of your own home. He even tried to set you up with the many eligible bachelors in Jackson, but they never worked out. 

Because they were never him. 

Since leaving, you had become a recluse, only talking to Tommy and Maria, and sometimes the person you were on patrol with. No one in Jackson fully knew your story, except for Tommy and Maria of course, they just knew that you had known Tommy pre-Outbreak and that you were a good shot. 

Plenty of practice being out on your own, smuggling. Oh, if only he could see you now. 

Time helped, though. It didn’t heal all wounds, but the days got easier, the pain settled, but whenever you thought of him, it came rushing back. Always one step forward, two steps back. 

Today was your day off, but you were helping Tommy with some construction in the main center of Jackson. It was snowing and you were freezing, making sure that Tommy knew of your discomfort. 

“Come on,” he said, chuckling. “You tellin’ me that you’d rather be at home than spend time with me?”

You glared, the tip of your nose red from being out in the cold. Your body always ran cold, so whenever the outside temperature matched, you were ten times colder than most. Luckily, you were wearing a beanie and some gloves. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

Tommy laughed. “And what would you be doin’ at home, hm?”

“I don’t know, maybe be warm.” 

“Alright, alright. You got a point there. But, you’re always at home when you’re not workin’.”

“I don’t see that as a problem,” you replied. 

He gave you a knowing look. “You haven’t made any friends.”

“What? Yes, I have.”

“Who?”

You cleared your throat and lied. “Luke.”

“Who the hell is Luke?”

“Okay, fine. You’re right,” you sighed. You knew Tommy knew everyone in Jackson, so you didn’t see why lying would work. “I just– I’d rather keep my circle small.”

“Jackson is safe,” he sighed. “You’ve been grieving my brother for–”

“Don’t,” you replied. “Just don’t.”

Tommy set down his tools and looked over at you. “It’s been ten years.” 

“Not enough time,” you replied too quickly. 

“He did a number on you, didn’t he?” 

“You’re telling me that if you lost Maria, you wouldn’t act the way I am?” 

He cleared his throat. “Okay, valid point, but you left him.”

You sighed. “You don’t think I regret that decision? You don’t think that I wish I could have been strong enough to just stay? Pretending to be happy is exhausting, Tommy…”

“I’m not sayin’–”

“I’m just gonna go home,” you interrupted. 

Tommy let out a heavy sigh, watching you walk away before he reached out a hand to touch your shoulder. He turned you around, taking note of the tears stinging your eyes. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just–” 

Then, you both heard a voice. 

His voice.

“Tommy!” 

You both turned around, looking at the man who yelled Tommy’s name. He was on one of Jackson’s horses and while he looked older, grayer, he was still the same man you fell in love with all those years ago. 

“Shit,” Tommy whispered. He gave you one glance and ran over to his brother, enveloping him in a tight hug. 

You noticed the younger girl he was with, seeing her glance around the community. 

Then, your eyes met his. 

Joel fucking Miller.

---

Part 2.

@pedrostories​

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #story: broken souls #one shot #one-shot #oneshot

[thithesandofferings]

Be-comings of Ardor:

Summary: Raian sees you as something other than nothing

Pairing: Raian x Reader

AN: Shorter chapter this time. Smut coming soon muahahaha

Tags: Descriptions of violence. Slow...slow burn. (Its actually not that slow theyre obsessed with each other) Eventual smut. Multi-chaptered. Nothing too crazy. I havent decided if I wanted to get any crazier lol. Honestly this is just an excuse to learn how to write descriptively so please bare with me.

Part 1

Its two weeks before you see him again.

You don't even try to look for him the first few days. Knowing that his presence will be celebrated by others, you would rather die than have that kind of uneasy attention on you.

Doesn't mean you don't feel him. He's a constant being in your psyche. Pressing heavily at your tendons. Puncturing your dreams and basking wantonly in your nightmares. He avoids you, but you see whispers of him. Your peripheral is haunted by the monsters he creates around the corners. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he wants you to put him back where he came from. To retract your winnings.

Your silence and withered patience seems to please him. If only a little. Humor sings cruelly into your fingers when you know he's close by. Because once the two weeks is over, you hear him beacon for you. Its startling. Grating when you hear his voice in your head. Pains the nerves, making you blink rapidly as shadows vibrate the hollow of your skull. Doesn't even deem you significant enough to say words. Just lets his intention fold you into an obedient thing.

Your sandwich tastes of dust, gritty-digging into your gums and eating away at your flesh when you chew. looks even less appetizing. This does not stop you from grabbing it and bringing it over to him. Where he sits alone. A throne in its own right. Not a follower to be found. You hear whispers burn into your neck, but when you turn, heads are down and the heated words are not towards you. Not that you believe for a second they aren't interested in what you have to say.

Or why you're not dead yet.

Picking yourself up becomes easier the closer you get to him. You sit, but make sure to leave his heated gaze. It burns to look at him. Blood vessels crack when your knees press against his. You don't deem it important enough to move it. There is an unspoken crime to be had. One where the strangers of the Kure family didn't think important to tell you. Your shoulders start to lift straighter, and breathing becomes easier. They don't tell you that being away from your demon causes your soul to experience lacroysmic pain. Tears and sheltered screams covet the pillows every night. Or if there inst a brush encounter, then you forget who are for hours. Dissociating as your skin becomes parlor and your cells take on a pewter tone. Hollowed and feeble, for once, you want something permanent. Want him to stain your skin so you never have to go through the kind of pain you did for those two weeks.

"You feeling it now?" You don't even have time to feel embarrassed. Needles prickling at your spine when he speaks to you for the first time. You barely can scramble out a mumbled reply.

"If I had known that not being around you would cause this much annoyance, I would have followed you just like your little groupies" Being snarky with a war demon may not have been the best idea, but two weeks and having to deal with soul sucking despair, you'll say just about anything.

He seemed to enjoy the comment. Studying you before the next moment and smiling cruelly.

"You weren't ready for me, brat-" He leaned in to grab your jaw, pulling you closer. "I needed to know how loyal you were." Wrenching yourself back before his touch burned you alive, you couldn't help but scoff in anger. He could have just asked, or even let you know what was going on with his little test.

He gets up suddenly and doesn't wait to see if you follow. He knows you will. The sandwich is laid limp and cold on the table. The Kure family begins to hover over it. Birds flocking to pieces of meat that smell of you and your demon.

The demon says nothing as you both walk, but you make sure that you are close to him. Breathing in his ashen scent, brushing the molten skin minutely. You take your time to gaze up at him. He looks like he was getting used to the skin he'd been given. Starting to look like the old pictures his relatives had. You didn't see him sporting the purple hue anymore, it fading into a skin tone not quite grey, not quite purple. Blending seamlessly into each other. Didn't seem to care that you were staring either. Making sure to look over at your form, slowly roving over your form in a way that feels like he's pushed you into a lake of fire.

"Stop-" You start, only for him to deliberately stop short.

"You started it first. Don't look if you don't want that shit returned." It has your nerves pushing and trembling anxiously when you follow his broad back passed the back entrance to the training room.

You're about to fight.

Specifically. You're about to fight a demon. Your demon.

Its all a blur after the third time he puts you on the mat. The pain is irrelevant. It always is. But the rush of satisfaction bleeds into your disappointment.

He's out of breath.

His resolve blows gently against your face. Soothing the itch that has been shadowing you since he walked away. Contentment digs its way through your belly, unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. The demon sees it in your face, when you look up at him, brief flashes of surprise melting into the blacks of his eyes.

When he pulls away from you, it feels like puling flesh from muscle. Aches in greedy ways. You want to keep him on you. Inside you. As one. The hunger borderlines on inappropriate. Makes your face flush in embarrassment when you finally start to hear the excited echoes of the Kure family needling at one another.

Silence balances the room entirely when he sticks a hand out. To help you. Roughened palms from decades of blood spilled underneath his fingerprints. Its warmer than you'd expect when you grasps them. Callouses digging into your palm, wanting to rip away tender skin in the brief moments of contact. Rough skin scorching when it presses against yours. Seeing the size of his palm eclipse yours and it makes your throat run dry. Clicking hard as you swallow through your need. His eyes flicker a garish red only to blink and its gone quickly. But you feel it, old weight buried on your body as he assesses the damage he has done. Can hear the eldritch being admit a deep rumble of a satisfied purr when he sees that you have his marks on you.

The look wrenches you open, swallowing you whole in its rapacity. Its hard to look away from him, but his followers take his attention- pushing you out the way without ever touching you. You're used to that by now. Being the strongest doesn't always give way to respect you've learned. That doesn't stop the demon Raian from looking away from you. Eyes shifting and pulling pieces away from you and making them his. You'll have to decide what offering is best to give him the next time you meet.

#raian kure #kure raian #raian x reader #kengan ashura #Kengan omega #kengan x reader

[fyrewalkwithmee]

Thin Walls Pt. 1

Special Agent Dale Cooper x reader

Sooo there's a serious lack of Dale Cooper x reader and I'm in my Twin Peaks era and plan to change that. This will be a multi-part story because I can't physically write anything under like 1k words lol.

word count: 1.8k

WARNINGS: 18+ due to sexual themes, descriptions of masturbation, sexual frustration/tension, pining, smuttyness ;)

Please let me know if you enjoyed the story and want pt.2 I'm also happy to take requests for Agent Cooper if you have any naughty ideas.

Thank you for reading <3

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Chapter 1, The Agent Next Door

Your mind flashed to what happened earlier that day as you fixed your just-curled hair into an elegant but wild bun. You had been interrogating two high school girls who were Classmates of Laura Palmer. You and your partner had discovered evidence possibly linking them to the Palmer case.

You and Dale had decided it would be best for you to question them first as they may be more likely to talk if it were a younger female agent grilling them. You had a way with young girls that almost always made them spill their secrets. Perhaps you saw a bit of yourself in them. Maybe it was your gentle nature and 'kind eyes' as Dale liked to call them. He was always saying things like that, complimenting you, uplifting you as an agent. It never went any further than that, Dale was a professional after all, and what could he possibly see in a rookie agent like you? You never told him but somehow you could sense he knew that you always felt a bit insecure being his partner. You were always afraid of letting him down or being the reason a case went south. You knew it was doomed and a pathetic cliche, but you had grown quite fond of him and were desperate for his approval. And that's not all you were desperate for…

You always thought he was handsome and charming and had just accepted it for what it was. But after seeing him work, the way his mind would reel trying to solve a case, the way he was so kind and careful with a victim's family and those in pain. You couldn't help but feel yourself grow more and more attracted to him.

Sometimes when working late at night his large hand would accidentally brush up against yours when going to grab another file amongst the mess of papers on the desk. Electricity would shoot up your hand and travel down your body to places where it probably shouldn't. He would mumble a "sorry" as you brushed it off, trying to look lost in whatever you were reading and not thinking about those hands. So much bigger than your own, so experienced. You imagined what they could be capable of in the right situation, the way they would rub that spot in between your thighs, stretch you out and become wet with your arousal. How he would make a mess of you as you reached closer and closer to that delicious breaking point.

At this point, you would shift in your seat, trying to alleviate the intense need for him beginning to pool in your panties. Sometimes, you thought you could feel his eyes fall on you and linger a little longer than usual when you did. You were almost certain he could read your thoughts, often sharing a new theory with you that you were just about to bring up yourself. You secretly wished he could, that would be a lot easier than actually telling him how you felt. Telling him wasn't an option, you couldn't risk compromising your partnership if he didn't feel the same way. So you kept it all inside, frustration building with each new case and each hour spent with your special agent.

You often found yourself having to relieve that tension in the wee hours of the morning when you couldn't sleep. Your own fingers taking his place, slipping in and out of yourself, imagining you and Dale in an array of naughty and scandalous scenarios until your desperation reached it's climax.

Dale's POV. It had been 2.25 hours since the special agent had recorded his final comments to send to his trusty assistant. He had had a smug, prideful grin on his face, "Diane remind me to tell agent y/l/n how impressed I was with her work today and how she has continuously proven herself to be a highly skilled and valued member of the bureau and well, just a lovely partner. I will report back to you tomorrow with details of the interrogation of Laura's two classmates. This is Special Agent Dale Cooper saying, goodnight." he placed down the recorder and turned off the light, more than ready to rest after a long day of investigatory work.

It was approximately 2 and a half hours later that he was woken by a thump coming from the wall right where his bed ended and his head lay on the plush hotel pillow. He kept very still, eyes wide, trying to see through the darkness of the room. Another smaller thump followed by a bigger sound made him lean over and grab his recorder, "Diane, I ask you again to please express post those earplugs to my room at the Great Northern. It appears that whatever animals that have been having relations in the walls for the past week have returned tonight for another session. Note that February must be mating season in Twin Peaks. Another note, the Great Northern has excellent coffee but very thin walls." He placed the recorder down and sighed deeply, closing his eyes when he heard another thump followed by another sound entirely. It sounded like a high pitched squeal coming from one of the animals, "at least the animals are getting some action" he said to himself with a sigh.

It was an unfortunate part of the job. Maintaining any romantic relationship was hard due to the travelling nature of his work and becoming involved with anyone he met along the way was against his guidelines as it could compromise the case. To put it shortly, he hadn't infact been intimate with a women in a long long time. He pushed himself closer to the wall and placed his ear against its coolness, maybe if he could figure out what animal it was the staff could find a way to expel the creatures.

Upon getting closer the muffled sounds became a lot clearer. He could now tell that it wasn't an animal at all. It was a human voice, a woman's voice, it was familiar to him. It was his partner's voice… He quickly shrugged back down into the covers, a million thoughts passing through his mind and one particular feeling shooting straight down into his crotch. "Agent y/l/n, no it couldn't be." He thought eyes wide with shock and confusion.

He had thought she'd taken this work seriously. she knows the risk of getting involved with people while on a case, especially in a town as small and tight-knit as Twin Peaks. Who could it be? He wondered an unexpected feeling of possessiveness rising up from his chest. He heard another more pronounced moan come from behind his head, more desperate in nature. He felt cock twitch in his pants and shifted around a bit, trying to keep his mind and body distracted by who the mystery man was. Harry is seeing Ms Packard so it wasn't him. It could be Hawk but he hadn't picked up on any tension between the two. It definitely wasn't Andy, he wasn't her type. She had spent 90% of her time in the town with him, so who was it and why was this getting on his nerves so much?

Yes his partner was exceedingly beautiful and intelligent and he would often have death stare the slimey men that would ogle at her when she would get dressed up to go undercover. The way he would sit in anticipation every morning waiting for her to join him for breakfast and how his heart would race every time their bodies would press up against each other trying to avoid gunfire didn't go noticed to him. He had pegged all that down to adrenaline and not having been this close to a woman for a long time. Except this feeling he had now… Knowing that there could be another man in her life, touching her, kissing her, making her scream. it was all too much. All at once the feelings he had pushed down for so long rose up to the surface and he had half the mind to go into that room, grab whoever was in there by the collar and beat them bloody for touching his girl… Well, his partner, he mentally corrected himself.

He hadn't realised it but while lost in his thoughts his hand had travelled down to the bulge that had formed in his pants and he was palming himself, rubbing his aching cock to the sounds of his partner in the next room. The agent felt ashamed but her whimpers were too much for him and he knew he wouldn't sleep at all that night unless he felt his release. He pulled himself out of his shorts, he was uncomfortably hard and his length slapped right up against his abdomen. He let out a relieved sigh as he circled the beads of precum that had leaked from his tip using them to help slick his member as he started slowly stroking. His hips bucked at the sensation, face painted with ecstasy. He felt the urge to make sounds to further release his pleasure but knew he had to stay quiet. If he could hear her, she would definitely be able to hear him.

He wondered what she would think. Would she be disgusted or would it turn her on further knowing her sensible and trustworthy partner was touching himself madly at the sounds and thought of her current predicament? this idea pulled him closer to the edge as he added more pressure to his movements, sliding his hand at an impossibly fast pace up and down his cock, hips bucking and sweat building around his temples. He tried his best not to think about the third person in this situation, not wanting anything to distract him from his impending orgasm.

It was as if his partner had read his mind because it seemed that she too was close to climaxing, her cries becoming more and more laboured. He was so so close to release, about to tip over the edge when he heard a sound that he never thought he would hear in his wildest dreams or fantasies. The familiar voice called out in pleasure a singular name into the nightly abyss, "Oh Dale, ohh fuckk". The proclamation was followed by a lengthy moan and then the silence of the night returned.

The detective halted all movement his seed pumping out of him, spilling onto his stomach. He lay there with his eyes and mouth open shocked at what he just heard and disappointed at his ruined climax. "I must be going insane", he thought to himself, "there's no way she just said my name as she-" he just couldn't believe it. As one agent on one side of the wall fell into a deep frustration free sleep, the other lay in his bed wide awake. Unable to shake the millions of thoughts now cluttering his already busy mind. He wouldn't get any sleep that night but he knew one thing for sure…

He needed her desperately and after tonight there was no going back.

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