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stllite · 1 year

Text

dream of mine •°ˎˊ˗

chishiya shuntaro x fem!reader

word count 1.5k

summary chishiya wanting you to do his makeup after seeing how pretty you do yours.

warnings mentions of smoking 🍃, a bit suggestive at some points, a bit of ooc chishiya, flufffff

authors note idk how i feel about this but i needed to write a lil fic of me doing chishiya’s eyeliner because who wouldn’t???? (also he looks so beautiful in this gif sjsjjsjs i’m down bad) lastly, pls pls pls send requests !! i’m going through a writers block rn but really want to write more chishiya fics and even other characters 🫶🏼

most days, you were exhausted after playing one of the games. practically fighting for your life and sometimes coming back to the beach with bruises or injuries was tiring.

however, this particular game wasn’t as tiring as the others. mainly because chishiya was by your side as he was every other game. this one just happened to be one of his fortes which made beating it like a breeze.

after the game, you decided to stay up rather than go straight to bed like you usually do and smoke a bit of the weed kuina gave you — one of the amazing wonders of being here at the beach. now you were feeling relaxed and most importantly good.

you wouldn’t take chishiya as someone who smokes weed per se but he surprisingly took the joint right out of your hand when you had offered.

so now, he was sitting against the head board of your bed while you were doing your makeup in the mirror right across from it, giving him a perfect sight of you.

you were so focused on what you were doing — your hand moving smoothly to create a beautiful sharp line across your eye, filling it in making your eyes seem more captivating than they already were. you moved your head side-to-side, checking if they were even. when you realized they were, you giggled to yourself. partly being the weed making you giddy but also because you were a pro at eyeliner and were always proud of yourself when creating yet another perfect cat eye.

chishiya noticed all this and kept his eyes on you throughout your whole makeup process. he didn’t know what exactly you were doing and didn’t think you needed any of it but he enjoyed watching you.

“i admire the way you do that,” he finally spoke.

you looked at him through the mirror, furrowing your brows. “do what?” 

“your makeup,” he gave you a small smirk before continuing. “you do it so smoothly like it’s almost natural to you. and it always ends up looking great.”

you turned to face him, your cheeks now pink and smiled at him.

and then you got an idea. you weren’t sure how he was going to react but you proceeded to ask anyway.

“do you want some?”

he raised his eyebrows at this making you regret asking in the first place. you turned back around and finished applying a bit of lipgloss.

“sure.”

you paused, turning back at him once again. wide-eyed, you wanted to be sure. “really?”

he smirked at you and nodded simply — his way of letting you know that he wanted you to do it.

you instantly grabbed your small makeup bag and practically jumped on the bed, sitting across from him.

“okay, what would you like?”

“what you have,” he replied.

“eyeliner?”

he simply nodded.

“blush too?”

he snickered. “i said whatever you had, didn’t i?”

“no need for the attitude.”

“just do my makeup please.”

you giggled, pulling out your eyeliner and moved a bit closer to chishiya. he stared at you whilst you tried to find a good position to be in without screwing up his liner.

however, you were struggling. you opened the eyeliner to get ready to draw them on his eyes then pulled away multiple times because every position was uncomfortable.

then, you broke into a fit of laughter, thinking about how ridiculous you must’ve looked.

“oh, you’re gone gone.” chishiya said blankly, looking at you as you were trying to catch your breath. he chuckled a bit.

“shut up. no i’m not, i’m fine,” you replied between laughs.

he rolled his eyes. “just do my makeup, dumbass.”

“okay, okay. i’m sorry.”

trying to be serious, you took a deep breath and leaned closer to him, attempting again to do his liner yet the position was still uncomfortable. you huffed frustratingly.

“do you want me to lay down maybe?”

you stopped your movements and leaned back, mouth opened slightly attempting to form a reply.

that’ll mean you have to be…on top of him.

“only if you’re comfortable, of course,” he reassured after seeing your reaction to his words.

you let out a breath. “yeah, i am. are you?”

he nodded and gave you a small smile.

then suddenly, you pushed him down on the bed gently and got on top of him.

“woah, okay,” he chuckled.

you then opened your eyeliner once again and got ready to finally draw them on his eyes. “this is much more comfortable.”

“told you. i’m always right.”

“shut up.”

you moved closer to his face, now drawing the lines on his eyes. you didn’t realize this because of how focused you were, but you were really close to his face. so close, he could feel your soft breaths.

he stared up at you with hooded eyes, paying attention to your every move. he noticed the slight bite of your lip — something you always did when you were really focused on something. he noticed the way your hair fell in front of your face, perfectly framing it and how you would get annoyed and push it back behind your ears. the way the blush on your face made you illuminate more against the room light — not like you needed it.

he also noticed how the hand you weren’t using to do his makeup, rested gently on his chest. how you were so gentle with your movements, he almost couldn’t feel you even applying the liner. this was such an intimate moment for you two. he was enjoying every second of it.

he tilted his head to the side and blinked, not realizing that you were still doing his liner.

“would you stop moving!” you called out, gripping his face with the hand that was originally on his chest. “gonna have to tie you up.”

“that sounds kinky.”

“god, i’m going to fight you.”

“that too.”

you abruptly stopped your movements, leaning back from him and squinted your eyes.  

“sorry, sorry.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and continued the liner on his other eye, still holding his face gently.

after a few moments, you finished his liner and then proceeded to give him a bit of blush — like he had asked. once you were done, you held his face with both of your hands and moved his face side-to-side, detecting if you needed to fix anything. when you were satisfied, you smiled brightly, giggling to yourself a bit. “you look pretty! wanna see?”

he snickered while you went in your makeup bag to grab your mirror. still, your bodies were close to one another as you were still on top of him. the way you smiled brightly at him and the way you handled him so gently throughout this whole process drove him crazy. he just wanted to grab your face and kiss you.

so he did.

you were still looking for your small mirror in your makeup bag, furrowing your brows wondering where you may have put it.

chishiya looked at you with an intent gaze, pupils widening. he moved his hand to cup the side of your face, moving your head to turn towards him, pulling your face closer. “sorry i must’ve left it at-“

he interrupted you by placing his lips on yours. shocked at first, it took you a moment to kiss back. but once you did, you melted into him, placing both your hands on his chest as he placed his other hand that wasn’t cupping your face on your hip, pulling you closer to him.

he tasted the sweetness of your lipgloss and he couldn’t get enough of it. he couldn’t get enough of you. kissing you felt like so right, even in a place like the borderlands. it made him forget about everything except you in that moment.

he didn’t want to, but he pulled away to catch his breath, seeing your lipgloss now smeared across your face.

it did something to him.

“wanted some lipgloss too,” he smiled.

you laughed. “you’re an idiot.”

“yeah, but you liked it. didn’t you?”

“i did.”

you leaned in again to kiss him once more and moved one of your hands from his chest to his face, him now placing both his hands on your hips. you both smiled into the kiss, laughing slightly. but that was soon interrupted by the door being opened suddenly.

“hey guys i’ve been looking- woah! what the fuck?”

you and chishiya jumped off of each other and sat up straight, staring at a very shocked kuina. she smiled wide and began jumping up and down.

“kuina, please. don’t start,” chishiya warned.

“okay one, it reeks of weed in here and two, about motherfucking time!”

chishiya huffed and collapsed on the bed.

“i like your makeup by the way!”

chishiya flicked her off.

you chuckled, looking at kuina with a smirk. she winked back at you then proceeded to walk out the door. “don’t have too much fun tonight.”

you giggled, turning back to chishiya who was staring up at the ceiling. you joined him, still giggling to yourself.

you turned to look at him. “want to go on the roof and smoke some more?”

“i don’t think you need anymore.” he turned and met your gaze. smirking, he replied. “but yes.”

you smiled wide. “by the way, your makeup really does look good.”

“i know. cause you did it.”

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sil3ntfr34k · 1 month

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ReaderxP3 if you write for him? Sfw or nsfw, both rule.

(I’m gonna assume that the last person also wanted me to change this one into p4 too soooo-)

(Also I had this planned eventually so this just reminded me ehehe)

‼️Minors DNI it’s Adult™️ time‼️

Postal 4 Dude NSFW headcanons

He’s old and sloppy you can’t change this. He’s been wearing the same old outfit for months straight, don’t expect TOO much from him

Luckily for his showcase ‘muscles’, he looks pretty good when he’s naked. Toned body with an ever so slight beer belly, but it somehow adds to his whole aesthetic

I imagine his dick is pretty average. About 5 inches when he’s hard, 3 when he’s soft and an average amount of girth. His balls are pretty big tho so at least he’s got that goin for him

Pretty good prep tbh. For fem aligned folk he’s kinda gentle and soft, letting his hands slowly run up and down your body before he keeps one behind your head to make his kiss more passionate

While for more masc aligned folk he’s a bit more rough, probably pulling you in with hard hands on your hips and pulling your hair back to get a better look at your face. Being around more manly people makes him feel manlier too, so he’s thinks he’s gotta act tough and all

Loves passionate sex. The heavy breathing, the grunting, the slaps of skin, the sweet dirty talk, he LIVES for it. If you keep kissing him during sex, he’ll cum gallons

Probably hates to pull out. Dude so desperately wants to feel you around him like this all the time, so much so he throws a little hissy fit when you make him pull out. Dude isn’t very smart when it comes to his own greater good, so for all you womb havers, you better make sure to pull him out yourself before he cums

Dude has an oral fixation as well (most dudes do). All you have to do is take off your panties/boxers and spread your legs for him to instantly dive between them and start licking/sucking. He doesn’t like to swallow tho, can’t stand the taste of cum smh

His favorite position is probably the mating press. There’s nothing Dude loves more than plowing into you as hard as he can so he can hear you moan. Not only does he get to fuck you mercilessly in this position, he also gets to see your face the entire time. (Yes he does try to make you cry sometimes)

Please wake Dude up with a blowjob, he will do anything for you for the rest of the day. Blowjobs in general are easily one of Dudes favorite jobs to have. Definitely jokes about it too. “Dude, I’m hungryyyyy what do we have to eat?” “You can eat my dic-“

Enjoys light BDSM. Spanking, slapping, and light bondage gets him goin good. Also blindfolds, adds to the excitement

Makes a lot of noise, on purpose. Dude knows you like his noises, at least he’s convinced himself you do, so he will not stop the constant groaning and grunting.

The way he lets you know he’s horny is by being extra loving. Hugs you from behind, kisses your neck, has his hands placed firmly on your hips and is slightly grinding into your ass, grunting

(That’s all I can think of rn idk I’m tired and outside pls give me my blanket)

#postal #postal game #postal headcanons #x reader #postal dude #postal dude x male reader #postal x male reader #postal x reader #postal 4 x reader #postal 4 #postal 4 dude

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fruitcoops · 11 months

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hello lovely eve. ive been having thoughts, recently. anyway wondering if you would want to write something to do with the day/time after a hard day. youve done some of my absolutely favourite fics for like Bad Days (im thinking esp rn of what we deserve (i think thats what its called)) but also after that? bc the after support is so crucial and i think the lions would do so well. any ship!! if not, i totally understand, i hope your day/week is lovelylovely!!

This is such a great prompt! The aftershocks of hard events are just as important as the conflict itself--this ask was combined with one for a timeskip followup to Self-Care, a fic about Finn's bad habits. All characters belong to @lumosinlove <3

Leo paused at the back of the couch and bent, nestling a kiss on the top of Finn’s head. “Good book?”

A quiet hum answered.

“Good part?”

Another hum; Finn pressed up and Leo tilted his head to leave another kiss on his temple. A clatter and a soft curse filtered out of the kitchen, but Finn hardly flinched.

Leo nuzzled against the wispy, silken ends of his hair until his cheek could slot just above Finn’s ear. The couch dug into his stomach a bit, but he didn’t mind. “You tired?”

Finn’s laugh answered his question before his words ever could. “Yeah.”

He picked at the hem of Leo’s threadbare Saints sweatshirt with a sleepy kind of apathy. His book hung limp from the fingers of his other hand, abandoned only two pages past where it had been the last time Leo checked on him. Finn’s breaths were methodic when he rubbed a palm over his chest and nibbled the shell of his ear, just to watch a smile pull at his tired eyes. “Come to bed.”

Finn cast him a sideways, skeptical look. “It’s 8:45.”

“And you’re the sleep police?” Leo hooked a finger in the collar of his sweatshirt and pulled. “It’s been a long day. You’re tired. We can fix that problem with our nice new mattress.”

Finn was quiet for a moment; Leo felt him lean back into the cushions and the cradle of his arm, a slow breath leaving him when Leo began toying with the hoodie strings. “You know, I kind of miss the old one.”

“It barely fit us.”

“Yeah.” Fondness shone on every word. “It was nice. Waking up all over each other. Always had you in arm’s reach.” Another beat of silence passed. “I lose you at night, sometimes.”

Oh god. Leo’s heart yanked—he held Finn a little tighter. “Sorry, cher.”

“Not your fault.”

“Is that…is that why you were upset today?” Logan came out of the kitchen with a precarious tray of tea, tongue poking out over his lower lip as he balanced their mugs on the table. Leo caught his eye and gave a small smile that relaxed the pinch of his forehead.

Finn took no notice of the change, save for a shift to the side in an obvious bid to have Logan sit next to him. “Nah,” he said as Logan took the hint and tucked himself between the arm rest and Finn. “Just a bad day, I think. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Logan tugged the book from Finn’s hands and set it aside, then replaced it with a mug of tea and pressed his fingers around the warm ceramic with an encouraging nudge. “Drink. You’ll sleep better.”

Finn smiled wryly. “Morphine? Chloroform?”

“Decaf. Very potent.”

“Thanks, Lo.”

Logan poked his ankle with his foot and snuggled Finn under his arm. “Don’t thank me for things you do every day.”

Finn went to protest, but something on their faces must have stopped him, because he bit back the words and took an obedient sip of tea. Leo didn’t know why he watched so intently—maybe for reassurance, maybe to make sure Finn was really on the up-and-up. Steam curled up around his copper lashes and turned the tips invisible when he blinked. He gave a nod. “ ‘S good.”

“Of course it is.”

“I’m—” Finn pressed his lips together and exhaled; steam billowed off his mug. “I’m sorry my brain doesn’t work right.”

Once, that would have broken Leo’s heart. Once, he would have jumped to soothe and bent over backwards to fix it all. Once, he would have taken it as personally as a slap to the face. Not enough. Not good enough. Missing Finn’s signals left and right—did Leo even love him, if he couldn’t pay attention?

The tight ball of insecurity in his chest may as well have been a marble, rolling about and looking for something to knock over in an empty room. He kissed the top of Finn’s head again. “I don’t see anything you need to be sorry for.”

“I’m sorry I missed your pass earlier,” Logan said, taking a long sip of his own tea. “It was a good one. I just wasn’t looking.”

Finn’s shoulders relaxed under Leo’s hand. Fuck yeah, Tremblay. There’s my MVP. “Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“What about—”

“You were on form.” Normally, Leo didn’t like it when Logan interrupted. This seemed like a much-needed exception. Logan raised his eyebrows at Finn’s suspicious look. “You were. I know you don’t feel like it, but you looked really good out there. That pass was on me.”

Finn’s punch to his shoulder was a roll of knuckles at best. Logan still smiled, still took it with faux-hurt and a hand over the heart. “Eyes up, Tremzy.”

Logan whistled quietly. “Five for fighting and two for roughing. What would Coach say?”

“Doesn’t count if you deserved it.”

“Oh, is that how that works?” Leo laughed. Logan glanced up at him with an impish grin, and passed the last mug over the couch. Peppermint filled the air, sweetened by honey.

They drank in relative silence, hands and legs and arms looped around each other until Leo could hardly tell where one ended and another began. Finn was right; however nice it was to not risk falling off the mattress in the middle of the night, he did miss the inevitable proximity of fitting three people on a single bed.

He supposed it wouldn’t be too hard to make an effort tonight.

The clock ticked as nine o’clock arrived at last. Leo finished the last of his tea and leaned over Finn to set it on the table, offering an apology in the form of a kiss to his cheekbone. “Bedtime.”

“Yeah.”

Logan took the mugs, Leo took Finn, and Finn went without protest into a brief, firm hug. “Love you,” Leo murmured. He felt the answering mumble more than he heard it. “Your brain isn’t broken.”

Finn sighed, slipping his hands under Leo’s shirt to rest against his skin. “Feels broken.”

“I think it’s pretty great, regardless.”

“You’re just a really nice person, Le.”

“I just love you a whole lot.” He let Finn pull away and cupped his face in both hands, running his thumbs along the summer lilac under his eyes. Exhaustion tarnished his bright edges. “Come to bed with me?”

Finn rested there for several seconds, then nodded. They went together.

Leo had only just managed to tuck Finn into the curve of his body before Logan was there, shuffling under the sheets to join them and reaching over Finn’s waist to hold the crook of Leo’s elbow. Finn made a quiet, sleepy noise and pushed his face into Logan’s chest; Logan’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and his expression only grew more contented when he looked up and found Leo already watching them.

Leo waited until Finn had mostly relaxed into drowsy limbo before risking a thumbs-up across the sheets. Logan fought back a smile and returned it, nose scrunching. Success. Another win for their tally. It was a shit day, a hard day, but they could still end it like this and that would be more than enough.

#leo knut #finn ohara #logan tremblay #oknutzy #cubs #coast to coast #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #hurt/ comfort #fluff #sleepy #caretaking

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ss-shitstorm · 1 year

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Okay okay I’m currently rereading fortuna primaginia for like the seventh or eighth time rn and I am genuinely very curious (and you by no means have to answer this if you don’t want to) but how would the story have differed if Ratchet had shot his shot first and reader had ended up with him before Optimus? My mind is just rolling at the parallels of what could be similar but what would be so very different. Would Optimus have even attempted engaging the reader after that? I love them so much!!!

(Anon sorry I'm sure you just wanted a simple little aside but you're getting a full blown greentext headcanon sloppy style fanfic)

Slaps ask This bad boy can fit SO MUCH angst in it good fucking god. This has been literally eating at my brain every waking second since I received it. There’s just so, so many ways this could go down. And since there IS so many ways this could go down, please by no means treat this shit my brain coughed out as the only way. It’s just a way. But it got my in a vice grip and won’t let go.

Also if anyone’s got their own ideas about how this could’ve gone down please, please share

-Around the time you guys had your first little late night/early movie pow wow, Ratchet, in a wired/half asleep delirium, makes a pass. -It’s a throwaway pass, probably relevant to something in the movie. He doesn’t expect you to even respond. -He definitely doesn’t expect you to reciprocate. -He knows he should stop right exactly here and never bring it up again

-But he doesn’t. -He’s old. He’s tired. He’s (at least a little) drunk. He’s been fighting for so long and passed up so many chances at happiness. Fuck it. He’s gonna see where this goes. -He starts making excuses to see you more often, and you do the same with him.

-OP notices this and immediately backs off, full stop. -You figure he wasn’t actually that into you to begin with, and (albeit reluctantly) shrug it off, and are thus freed to peruse Ratchet with no remorse. -In reality, it’s a knee-jerk reaction out of respect to Ratchet, since he’d done the same for him when they were dating, and he’d first started talking to Elita. Ratchet already sacrificed his happiness for him once before. he’s not going to let him do it again. -But that doesn’t stop his feelings from doing…whatever it is they’re doing. -You still saved Bumblebee. You still adopted Bumblebee, so this mech can’t not see you. -Every time he takes you to the park, or the movies, or on a nature walk somewhere, and sees you playing with his sparkling he wants to shove his head into an industrial trash compressor -He’s happy for you. He’s happy for Ratchet. He’s forever indebted to you for saving Bumblebee and Primus-fragging-blessed why isn’t that enough? -That and he’s still actively mourning the loss of Elita, whom you share an almost identical EM signature with, so every time he’s within sensing range of you he’s blasted with grief and guilt. -But he still spends time with you. It hurts just to look at you, but if the alternative is not seeing you at all then he’ll gladly endure the pain.

-When the heat cycle hits, you’re actually with Optimus. He, you and Bumblebee were in one of the training rooms getting some (gentle, for Bee’s sake) exercise. -When that electrical, wet, cracked egg sensation first drips down your spine, Optimus stops what he’s doing, stares at you, and starts trembling. -You’re understandably worried and ask him what’s wrong. -He manages to articulate something about you emitting an abnormal EM frequency, and to please to go see Ratchet about it immediately. -You have more questions, but he excuses himself from the conversation to walk a safe distance away from you Bee, and proceeds to tear a fucking wall out -You go to the infirmary to see Ratchet, who explains heat cycles and why he thinks your mutant little human body is mimicking one while crushing the edge of a medical berth with his servos. -You, already pretty riled up from watching two (2) of your handsome robot buddies crush and smash things on your behalf, tell him to go ahead and break the Hynek’s scale with you -Ratchet,having zero reason to restrain himself otherwise, mass converts, bends you over a human-sized medical gurney, and fucks you until you black out.

-You don’t go into a coma. Ratchet’s exceptionally skilled in maneuvering his field, so freeing it from your grabby, inexperienced one isn’t a problem for him. -Nor do you wind up with a busted pelvis, bruises or bleeding after sex(at least, not by much. His dick’s still the size of two tallboy monster cans duct-taped together.) -But after the third or so time you guys bone, you do start coughing a lot. And passing out a lot. And puking a lot. -Ratchet’s starting to worry he missed something in his evaluation of your body’s adaption to energeon and cybertronian bio fluids. So he runs some scans. -Lolnope. Turns out you adapted too well. You’re fucking pregnant. -He stares at the results for a whole-ass hour before he can even summon the courage to explain this to you. -By “explain” he means “I had no idea this was possible and I still don’t know how it’s possible or what the fuck it’s going to do to your tiny little squishy body if you decide to keep it.” -You, knowing full well how devastatingly close their whole species is to extinction, thinking about Bumblebee growing up without ever seeing another sparkling, decide “fuck it. We doing spacemom 2 : electric boogaloo”

-Ratchet’s whole ass world changes right exactly then. -In a bad way. -He’s going to be supportive. He’s going to take care of you. He’s going to monitor you night and day and give you everything you could possibly ever need, because not only is this entirely his fault and he cares about you, but- -He doesn’t want to be around sparklings. -Bumblebee is different. Bumblebee doesn’t exist because of him -But because of what happened with Soundwave, and the cassettes, he does not want to have a sparkling. He’s not allowed to. Not after what he did. -He starts drinking more. And loosing himself in his work. And finding reasons to not be around you. -Or anyone. -He’s in his lab constantly. He says it’s because he’s learning as much as he possibly can about human bodies and human reproduction and running what tests he can to find out how to give you the nutrients the sparkling needs without poisoning you, how to compensate for the effects of your weaker field on it’s organ and internal systems development. -He’s not lying. But he’s also using it as an excuse to stay the hell away from you. -Your relationship starts deteriorating, along with your health. -Seeing you getting sicker and weaker because of something he did to you is dredging all his baggage with the Iaconian hospital experiments up from the dark corners of his mind and you are in no condition for him to confess about that now. -So he hides. You’re left out in the cold.

-Optimus see’s you emotionally freezing to death, and offers warmth. -The time you’d normally reserved for spending with Ratchet is now spent with him. -You don’t want to dump your problems on him. You don’t. -But Optimus feels the sting of Ratchet’s cold shoulder just as badly as you do. So he winds up being less an emotional dumping ground and more of a commiserating partner. -You’re both so worried about him. -Op’s so worried about you, being balls deep in your carrying cycle, puking blood almost daily and in a terrible place with your baby daddy. -He tells himself it doesn’t go deeper than that. And it never will -He knows it’s bullshit. -He knows his spark screaming out for him to comfort you and screaming out for him to take you are two vines in the same jungle, hopelessly braided together and impossible to separate fully. -He knows this and he still invites you out to stargaze after Bee’s been put to sleep, wrapping you up in so many sweaters and blankets and bringing you to the top of the base for the clearest view of the desert sky. -He’ll lie down on his back and you’ll sit next to his helm and nerd out until you inevitably fall asleep mid-sentence somewhere. -He’s heard you name every single star in every single visible constellation a hundred times, and he’ll gladly hear it a hundred more. -He offhandedly compares you to Ursa while you’re pointing it out, and you break down in tears. -You’re not a bear. You’ve never been a bear. Bears are strong enough to keep their shit together. You’re not keeping your shit together. At all. -He tells you that’s bullshit. He tells you anyone in your position would be breaking down, yes including a bear. -He tells you you’re the strongest person he’s ever met and whatever’s going on with Ratchet’s not your fault. It’s not. -He has a point, but you still feel so weak, and tell him you can see why Ratchet wouldn’t want to be with someone as fragile as you. -Seeing you like this breaks something in him. There’s protocols blowing up left and right in his processor and spark telling him to stop the tiny human from crying. Stop the adoptive mother of his sparkling from crying. Stop you from crying. -So he rolls over, he cradles you against his cheek while you sob. You lean into him, throw your tiny arms around him and - -He kisses you -He realizes it’s a mistake the second he does it. He breaks the kiss, wracked with guilt, apologies immediately, tires to pull away- -You don’t let him. You kiss him back. -His field rolls over you out of nowhere like a tsunami, knocking you on your ass. -He can feel your field already sinking it’s inexperienced kitten claws into his, and he yanks it away before they can entwine further. -You two stare at each other in silence for a few moments after that, before wordlessly heading back inside. -You go straight to bed, too tired to analyze exactly what the fuck that was, or wonder if you were wrong about him not liking you. -He goes back to his room and stares at the wall. He has no excuse for what the fuck he just did. He doesn’t even drink. He made that mistake stone cold sober. -Both you and Ratchet need his support right now, not whatever shit he just pulled. -He’s a leader and a father. He can’t ever afford to make a mistake like that again. -But he can’t leave you alone, because he knows Ratchet won’t be here for you. -And he can’t leave Ratchet alone, because he won’t let anyone else near him. -He stares at the wall for the rest of the night.

-The next day, the sparkling sends out it’s first ping, seeking to start it’s nonverbal, psychic bond with it’s sire -Except, it doesn’t send it to it’s sire. -Ratchet’s field had been clamped so tightly around his frame ever since this started you haven’t been able to feel it at all. Naturally, the sparkling had nothing to cling to either. -Instead, it forms a bond with the mech who’s field dragged you in like a riptide -It forms one with Optimus -Neither of you bring this up to Ratchet. You can’t. You both already feel guilty as hell for whatever the fuck that was. -But neither of you can deny the gravitational pull you feel towards each other anymore. -The sparkling starts sending him clips of your voice. Of His voice. -Optimus feels his spark splitting in two both because this tiny little ethereal voice is calling out to him, not Ratchet, and because he can’t answer that tiny voice. -You make tentative plans to put your head through a fucking cheese grater the second this metal baby is out of you.

-Fortunately, that comes sooner than later. -Unfortunately, much like with Bee, the sparkling’s field gets lodged in your brainwaves during emergence, and can’t fully separate -They do finally become untangled once she’s born -But that’s only after your neural activity slows to a crawl when you blackout -NOW it’s coma time, baby.

-Seeing you comotose after giving birth to his sparkling is the last straw for Ratchet -He snaps -Hands the sparkling to Optimus, apologizes, and just leaves. -Optimus is left largely alone and flailing with this sparkling, who is basically recognizing him as her dad. -She repeatedly sends him clips of your voice, her way of asking “Where’s mom? I want mom? I waited so long to see them where’s mom?” -The first thing she blurts out with her primitive vox are the beginning notes to David Bowie’s Diamond Dogs. -Echo seems like a fitting name. He relays this experience and the suggestion to Ratchet. -Ratchet’s optics glaze over. His lip trembles. He unintentionally crushes the cube of hi-grade he’s holding, but agrees. -But beyond that, Ratchet is gone. -Wakes up, attends to any medical issues for the team, then drinks himself to unconsciousness, rinse and repeat. -He is a miserable, drunk old bastard barely fit for duty let alone to be a father -Thank god for Fowler, who’s kept people like Astoria, Carly and Raoul on call for exactly this outcome(He predicted robot fucking would have repercussions, and he was RIGHT) -Astoria takes one look at your comatose body and gets her tubes tied immediately. -They wind up having to take babysitting off base most of the time, though, because Ratchet refuses to be around any humans -Which is why when Jack, Miko and Raf wind up there eventually, he’s less than enthused. -They should leave. They NEED to leave, because he’s only ever hurt things smaller than himself. -Despite this, Raf and Bumblebee manage to still get through to him somehow. -His relationship with Echo, though. -It’s bad. -He can’t even look at her without seeing your face. And Soundwave’s face. And every single cassette he forced into existence.

-Optimus visits you while you slumber. -It’s not often that he can do this, pressure of being a leader. And a father. And now the lone diplomatic relation between cybertronians and humanity, after you decided to take a preemptive dirt nap. -Sometimes he tells you mundane things, like how his day went, how everyone’s doing -He likes to tell you how Bee and Echo are doing. That they’ve gotten along exceedingly well. Their so close in age, that’s to be expected. -But Bee adores her, and she’s aggressively possessive of him -And, when he’s run out of things to say, he’ll thank you. He’ll thank you for saving Bumblebee. For fighting so hard to establish refuge for his people here. For keeping him company. For being his friend. -For letting him love you. -He always chokes up on the last one, and leaves before he can finish, excusing himself from a quiet room and leaving as silently as he came.

-Ratchet visits you too. -A lot -In fact, when he’s not in the infirmary, or his quarters, or drinking in either of those places, he’s here. -But unlike Optimus, he comes up empty for words. -He just watches your unmoving body, and the gentle oscillations of the various monitors hooked up to you -He will say one thing, though, every time. Right before he leaves -It’s always the same thing. -”I’m sorry.”

-While this is going on, you’re busy cavorting around with Elita in the realm of the primes with Rumble and Frenzy -She (lovingly) berates you for not sleeping with her husband, which is a trip in of itself. -In between trials she teaches you how to hop in and out of dreams -Even the nightmarish, extremely unstable ones -So naturally, you dive right into one of Ratchet’s dreams -You’re flooded with every single last thing haunting his mind. -All of it. His history with the medical research. Everything he’s done. -It’s so horrific you can hardly stay for longer than a heartbeat, but- -You fight through the darkness to get to him, unrelenting until you grab his servo -And when you do so, you get to see him. Actual him. The him buried beneath the toxic walls he’s built up. -And that him bleeds nothing but the purest, unconditional love for you. For your sparkling. For Optimus and Bee. -He’s still there. The mech you fell in love with is still there. -He’s just drowning in his own regret and misery with no way out -His anguish is an uncharted mountain and he needs a guide -You’re going to have to be that guide -So with some intense astral fuckery, you drag him him out of his own dream, and Elita drags the both of you into Optimus’s dream.

-Optimus’s dream is more stable. -Thank god it can withstand the emotional shitshow that is the four of you being in the same place -There’s enough angst and self-blame to flood god’s basement -Elita, being dead and all, has even less tolerance for this bullshit then the three living of you combined -She grabs you with one arm and kisses you, and uses the other arm to push Ratchet into Optimus’s lap. -It devolves into a fourway pretty fast -You’re the luckiest human in the fucking universe -Afterwards, Optimus laments how guilty he feels for wanting this. For enjoying this. How bad he feels about wanting you. How much he still wants Ratchet. -He feels like a selfish asshole for pining after you both. You two should be happy together. Why can’t he just be happy for you two while silently drowning in his grief for Elita -Both you, Ratchet and Elita tell him that’s bullshit. -Both you, Ratchet and Elita tell him all of them deserve to be happy. -Elita tells all of you in no uncertain terms if you three don’t find a way to be a thruple IRL she’ll put each and every one of you in a sex coma IRL so help her Primus.

-You wake up. -It’s been 30. Fucking. years. -The first thing you see upon waking up is the last thing you saw before blacking out -Your little girl -She’s taller than a two story townhouse and her optics are the same color as your eyes. -”Welcome back, Mom.” -You can’t even begin to comprehend what you’re seeing -You don’t have time. The next person in the room is Bee, who’s even taller. -He knees down, trembling, warbling, tears in his optics. -”Did you have a nice nap?” -Reader.exe has stopped working -The next person in -Oh -Oh. -It’s Ratchet -Bee and Echo clear out before you can scream at them not to leave, leaving you alone with your estranged boyfriend

-He walks over to you slowly, mouth set in a firm, flat line. -He kneels down beside you, places his hand on the side of the berth -And starts openly weeping. -He’s sorry. He’s sorry for putting you in danger. He’s sorry for knocking you up. he’s sorry for icing you out. He’s sorry for fucking everything and tells you if you had even a shred of self-preservation instinct left in you you’d leave him and never look back and he’d never blame you and- -And you tell him to shut the fuck up. -You kiss him. He smells like highgrade and millennia of repressed guilt and you can’t get enough of it because it’s fucking Ratchet.

-You tell him about the coma. You tell him about all the dreams. You prove it to him by relaying everything about the cassettes. -His face pales further. You decide to (temporarily) withhold information about the dream orgy -You reassure him that where you were and how you got there, you could see shit. You could see the driving force and divine interplay of how bad decisions and poor judgment come to tangle hopelessly together and prompt action like puppeteers through the strings of the livings and you’re absolutely not done which this, but -You still love him. Nothing is ever going to change that. -Dude looks like he was fucking reborn. There’s something so young in those teal searchlights that make you feel like a child again. -For a moment, everything is okay. -He spends the rest of the night with you, never once leaving your side.

-You don’t get a happily ever after yet, though. -You still have two grown-ass children you need to catch up with -One of which doesn’t know you at all. -She’s extremely eager to start a relationship with you though because she’s been looking forward to this her entire life -She might be an adult, but the way she turns her optics on you and listens with rapt attention when literally anything comes out of your mouth makes you feel like you actually got your baby back -She’s utterly fascinated by you and worships the ground you walk on, treating you like some sort of beloved idol or storybook character come to life -It’s cute for now and probably not the healthiest reaction but that is by no means your biggest concern, because -Echo and Ratchet’s relationship is terrible -You can’t even call it a relationship -She’s got daddy issues out the aft -Blames him for everything that happened to you, which he happily reinforced with his self-depreciating lifestyle -Bee also low-key blames Ratchet for taking his mom away. He understand it’s not his fault, it was an accident, but you were gone for 30 years. -Echo is absurdly attached to the gaggle of humans that raised them, even more so than Bee. -She’s even more attached to Optimus, follows him around like a lost puppy and craves his approval -Which isn’t that hard to earn because he adores her. -He struggles with her grudge against her biological sire, though. Because no matter what he’s never found it in himself to blame Ratchet, and has tried, to little avail, to turn her towards him. -She’s shown considerable proficiency in medicine, but refuses to study it seriously because it’s what “that guy” does and FUCK “That guy”. -You know it’s not entirely your responsibility to fix her and Bee’s opinion of Ratchet -But it’s an enormous fucking mess and the burden’s going to be way easier if shared

-You go to Optimus for help -Because, aside from the humans, he’s the one who basically raised these two. -Alone -That cannot have possibly been easy -That cannot have possibly left him without some damage -He’s been kind, but distant ever since you awakened -Seems to be reluctant to speak to you alone -But once you have him alone, he breaks down -Sweeps you up in his hands -begs you to just let him hold you -He missed you. He missed you so fucking bad -He never told Ratchet about the time you two merged. Or the bond he formed with Echo because of it -Or the kiss -The guilt that comes over his face when bringing this up breaks your heart -You can’t take it anymore

-You go to Ratchet -You tell him about the dream in blinding detail -He looks like he’s watching a slow motion train crash when you bring it up, but he remembers every last vivid bit as though it were yesterday -Admits it was the happiest he’d ever been and waking up felt like getting kicked out of heaven -Admits he never actually wanted to break up with Optimus -Admits those feelings resurfaced when you were sick and Optimus was the only one he’d let anywhere near him -Admits that made him feel even worse because you were fucking dying -Probes you for your feelings for Optimus -This time you break -Fall to your knees and start fucking sobbing -You’ve loved this mech ever since you first laid eyes on him -Ever since fate determined you’d bring that tiny yellow sparkling from the brink of death -Being apart from him makes you feel like a plant without water. You’re shriveling up and drying out. -You need him. You don’t want to be apart anymore. -You tell Ratchet about the merge. The bond. The kiss. -Ratchet looks about as relived as he does devastated -Relived, because you want Optimus as badly as he still does -Devastated because he made himself physically unavailable for Echo to form that bond -He knows forming that bond with Optimus was probably the best thing that could have possibly happened to her at the time -But he also knows it happened because he fucked up and continued to fuck up for thirty whole ass years and his daughter wants nothing to do with him and it’s completely his fault -You tell him as kindly as possible, that yeah, he’s right, but also to shut the fuck up. -If she knew what he’d been through, she’d understand. -It’s gonna take a long time and a whole lot of work, but it’s not too late to fix this. -It’s also not too late to fix things with Optimus, and that probably won’t take as much work

-Since that’s the easier of the two tasks by far, that’s the one you guys start with -Both you and Ratchet corner him in the infirmary after he comes back from a mission a little banged up -Tell him in plain fucking english you both remember the dream, both want him romantically and carnally, both willing to move mountains to make this work, and if you don’t want Elita to make good on her threat you’d better sort this shit out now -Optimus doesn’t need any further convincing -Fucks you both till you see Primus and pass out.

-Now that you’ve made headway on sorting your relationship shit out, -It’s time to start sorting the parenting shit out -With the three of you working together, it’s a lot less overwhelming -Bee, emotionally mature as he is, winds up working through his grievances with Ratchet pretty easily -He never wanted to hold a grudge against him to begin with, and was pretty eager to drop it when given sufficient reason -That, and the fact that his dad, (who he’d been goading to confess to for years) has finally hooked up with his mom makes him pretty happy. -Echo is far less easy to appease -For a while, it actually gets worse, since she’s jealous of the time you and Optimus spend with Ratchet -But because of the time you’re spending together, it makes it harder for her to avoid him

-She asks you one day “what the frag you could possibly see in him” while she’s simultaneously re-calibrating the ground bridge resonance controls and running an experimental distillation on synthetic red energon -Staring stupidly with your mouth open at the similarities, you tell her -”Right now, I see you. Goddamn you’re just like him.” -She snaps her wrench in half, growls and kicks the shards across the room. -“Like him? I can’t fraggin’ stand him!” -You sigh. “He can’t stand himself either.” -She makes a face like she knows you have a point but isn’t willing to admit it even to herself, and that’s the exact same face Ratchet made when you told him you wanted to keep her.

-She finally approaches Ratchet the next day -Just walks up to him while he’s in the lab, drags a stool over and sits down -”So apparently we both hate ourselves” -Ratchet stops what he’s doing. -“What could you possibly hate yourself for?” -”Besides the obvious?” “-What obvious-?” “I’m the reason mom was in a coma.” -Ratchet drops his wrench. And his jaw -Tries to tell her that’s bullshit. -She won’t let him get a word in edgewise -”And I know you hate yourself for that too.” -He doesn’t even try to deny that one -”Hating you for the same reason I hate myself makes it easier to hate myself. And I…don’t want to hate myself anymore.” -Ratchet.exe has stopped working -She tells him she has absolutely not forgiven him for being practically non-existent in her life, and she’s not sure if she ever will but- -Maybe she doesn’t have to, to move on. -Maybe they can acknowledge this as a massive-ass problem that will keep coming back and never fully be resolved -And maybe they can move forward despite it -And despite both of them trying exceedingly hard not to be, they’ve wound up extremely similar, so -Maybe learning not to hate themselves will be easier if they do it together. -She tells him in spite of everything she still wants to like him. So bad. -Ratchet finally stops, and turns to look at her. -She’s gritting her denta, digging her digits into the side of the seat so hard it cracks, and holding back tears. -He tells her, after several tries to get his mouth working again, that he wants to give her a reason to like him. -”Yeah well-” she shakily pries her servos off the seat, jumps down, picks up his wrench and hands it back to him. “I guess we have the rest of our lives to figure that out.” -Her hands brush his as she hands the wrench back, and for the first time, she doesn’t recoil or jerk them away. -She leaves -He stands there for a whole thirty seconds after she leaves staring at the wrench before setting it down on the desk -Then putting his helm down on the desk -And starts crying harder in relief then he’s ever cried in his life

#Fp #optimus x reader #Optimusxyou #Ratchet/reader #Ratchet/you #optimus/reader #optimus/you #ratchetxreader #ratchetxyou #transformers #tf fandom #sparklings #what the fuck have I done oh god sorry

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milkinmoose · 1 year

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Your comments being turned off really shows how much of a snowflake you are to criticsm. 😊

Having your entire blog based on M/rston really shows the kind of person you are, I sure hope you don’t have siblings lol. I’m tired of seeing you freaks on Tumblr, on Pinterest, every. Fucking. Were,. And then you all acting fucking oppressed when you’re confronted???

I blockes you, I still see your art. I came for fucking Charthur and your freaky asses show up on my feed. For a while I thought you all stopped but no???? More show up. More. Not only do I have to deal with the fucking M*rballs and V*ndermusty shippers crawling out of the walls, but I come back and see M*rton shippers back at it. Fucking kys tf????

one, my comments aren't off honey bunches get your fucking facts right before talking to me 😊 also get educated with your yee yee ass typing and spelling. like fr you type like you're at gunpoint and shaking like a little woosey crybaby shitting your silly little clown pants

anyways, getting cereal.

I've seen your sorry lazy fat fucking ass copying and pasting towards other Morston creators, how unoriginal. i bet your response to that though would be "oH i HaVE nO tImE tO BE OrIGInAl wITh yOU" like every other person who supports Charthur 😋 most of you lot are snobby, defensive and extremely fucking racist whether you like it or not. get. your. facts. right. some of you complain about people drawing him skinny and fit? ffs he's canonically fit.

most people also draw him taller than Arthur? and larger? he's not. check his height comparison to Arthur. in game, they're around the same height, and the discussion is still on for his EXACT height, but i think he's between 5/11 to 6/1. all of you who make him a fucking mammoth are the racists stereotyping him for this massive black Indian man. disrespectfully, fuck you for massacring that beautiful man. 😊

idk what else to say anyways im losing brain joos soooo ima start getting silly teheheh

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS MRBALLS???? IM CRYING WHATTTT IS THAT THE NAME OF YOUR TRANSGENDER TESTICLES???? IMAGINE LOOKING DOWN AT YOUR DICK AND GOING "goodmorning MrBalls 😊" UNIRONICALLY

IM ON THE FLOOR BRO FUCKING WHEEZING LIKE GODDAMN PEPPA PIG RN YOU DUMBASS CHARTHUR SHIPPERS ARE SO FUNNY WHEN YOURE OFFENDED OR SEE SUMN YOU DONT LIKE 😭😭😭

I LOVE HOW YOU ALSO SENT THIS TO MULTIPLE MORSTON SHIPPERS???? LIKE TF POSSESSED YOU AND MADE MADE YOU TAKE TIME OUT OF YOUR DAY TO BLABBER SHIT WE DONT CARE ABOUT TO US

also crawling through walls is my favourite pass time, and it's where i have all my adventures with Barry, the paraplegic rat, and Sally, the overweight snail

FYI, for you snowflakes, the last half was just shit post. please don't take it personally and cry

thank you for reading whoever actually did read this far without shitting yourself from being offended. whoever is actually a chill Charthur shipper though, this is not directed at you. it's directed at the assholes who make Arthur hyperfeminine or Charles transgender 😊

have a good day to the nice people in the world i love you all <3

#john marston #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption two #funny shit #shit post #theyre idiots your honor #theyre fucked #funny to laugh at #charles smith #RACISM YOUR HONOUR

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miammey · 1 year

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HI OKAY

So on the the topic of Vampire Jouno that we talked about a few days ago..

Let's rewind back a bit

Remember this? Yeah, let's zoom in on that little 'Two Days Later'. Why did it take Akutagawa two whole days to get to city to start the infection? Don't tell me distance because Vampire Chuuya somehow made it to Europe in.. idk how long, but it was definitely a short time.

So let's set it as Akutagawa needed two days to become a full Vampire. Now why does that matter?

Remember this? Gin became a Vampire in a span of less than 5 minutes or so. Which is definitely much less.

We can't say the ability was 'dilute', because Akutagawa took the bite directly from Bram. Right?

Now this. Why did it take Tachihara so long to become a Vampire? Well, longer than Gin, that's for sure. But if it took a shorter time, Fukuchi could have had him go to the airport as a disguised Vampire.

Like these two guys

This could have reduced the suspicion, and reduced the chances of Teruko being somewhat influenced, no? well in the end she wasn't but yeah. He could've gone a as a regular guy..

But then. He didn't. So it makes me believe that he was undergoing the Vampire-ism process.

So, this leads me to infer that the Vampire process is affected by one factor; Mental Fortitude. The stronger someone's mind is, the slower the process. Akutagawa has a strong mind, being determined to be acknowledge by Dazai. Whereas Tachihara's mind got much stronger, after he decided that he wanted to be a mafioso over a Hunting Dog.

Gin and Higuchi have weaker minds, because they don't need stronger minds for whatever reason.

So it brings me back to my point.

This.

Jouno has one of the strongest mental fortitudes of all characters in bsd. Possibly only forth to Fyodor, Dazai, and Fukuchi. If his transformation was as fast as Gin's, he would already attacked someone by the time Fukuchi was trying to find Aya.

I feel like this means we may not see Vampire Jouno soon, because Fukuchi currently is already like threatening.

But maybe under Bram's + Fukuchi's combined ability, they may be able to force the speed up of any Vampire-ism processes happening.

Yeah I don't really know what this is so.

Hmm, maybe?? That is pretty interesting

It could also be that the infection was intentionally delayed for whatever reason, probably to fit Fukuchi’s plan better?? Idk, I’m kinda too tired to think rn lol

#asks

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mistydeyes · 1 year

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Hey I was hoping I could get a cod pairing? Sorry I haven’t done this before.

Umm as for appearance I am 5’4” I have layered curly brown hair that comes to just above my shoulder, blue eyes, freckles pale as hell, a few scars here and there that I’m kinda proud of (from various causes) I don’t really have a specific style it can range from a tank top and sweats to t-shirt and jeans or something completely wild, color coded decked out in jewelry, skirts, layers the whole bit. Relatively active build, used to be a gymnast until an injury now I just workout twice a week w a friend. Interests; I like movies top five rn probably Scream (1996), Spiderverse, 10 things I hate about you, the last unicorn, Dead poets society, +Star Wars cause I can’t leave it out. I like playing chess every now and then, I’d say I’m pretty good but I still have a ways to go. I’m also an artist, and I like music I can’t do anything music related I just like listening to it, all kinds. I like baking when I’m stressed, typically cookies during finals week at 2 am. My future prospects, or at least what they are currently, is just going to law school, after that I’m not really sure, I’ve thought ab going the military route, both of my parents served/are serving, so I’ve thought ab the possibility of being a military JAG or something in Intel, but I’m still feeling for it, I mostly like law cause I’m pretty good at it and I like knowing more than people. I’m Bi so my taste in Men/Women varies. As much as I’d like to say I don’t have a type, hot people are hot, there have been patterns in the past few fictional guys. Tbh my taste in men is shit, like I don’t have daddy issues, I have a great relationship with him, but my past fictional crushes say other wise. But basically, capability is HOT, if they’re good at something to the point of mastering it I’m entranced. Women are just pretty, there’s not much there. I’m relatively paranoid, even describing myself like this online is strange, I think it’s just growing up around military but I’m typically just cautious. That and trust issues. I’ve done some martial arts/self defense and I think sparring is really fun I just need someone to teach me. Also I am a huge simp (with shit taste as my friends say) I’m an ambiavert, so I like to be pretty adaptable depending on who I’m around. I’m also German/American but more American than anything else, I ‘grew up’ in south Germany and we still have family there but since we moved here I’ve forgotten most of it. JFC in hindsight I am SO SORRY about all this I got carried away. I hope it didn’t come across as self absorbed 😅😭 sorry again

thanks

John Price

a/n omg at one point of time i thought of going to law school instead of pharmacy so this was so interesting to see what could've been lol

How you met: Civilian as of rn ;) Here you stood, a second year of law school done and accepted into the US Army Judge Advocate General's Corps. Or I guess I should say, here you were physically but not mentally. When you applied from your cozy apartment, you hadn't expected the internship program to be such a challenge. But here you were in your second choice location of Washington DC (curse whoever got the Germany placement). It was your second day and you were already tired from the 6am wakeup time followed by whatever your trainer saw fit. Today was a grueling 4-mile run. Needless to say, you were exhausted by the time you entered the Military Justice office. As you entered, your attorney joked, "you look like hell." You rolled your eyes and tried to smooth out your hair. "Here take a break and make some copies for us," as he handed you a pile of papers. You looked and saw they were drafts for an attorney's prosecution memoranda. You left to make your way to the copier when you bumped head first into something. As you looked up, you realized it was a someone. Somehow this man had miraculously caught all your papers. "Sorry love, perhaps you could tell me where I would find a General Shepherd's office?" he asked in an enchanting, deep accent. You could feel the air fill with cigar smoke with each word. You silently pointed in the direction of the office and the man went on his way. "It gets easier, soldier, someday you'll be an officer," he called out and you smiled as you got up from the floor.

A peek into your relationship: This was the big day, your graduation from law school. Your time during your internship had paid off, many officers impressed by your ability to keep up with the trainings and your eloquent legal drafts. You sat in your seat nervously and twirled a loose curl as they prepared to call your name. Finally, it was time. As you walked on stage and prepared to get your hood, you could instantly hear your boyfriend cheering you on loudly. "That's my girl!" he shouted and you gave him a kiss from the stage, finally a lawyer. When the ceremony had finished, Price was the first one to greet you. He had dressed in a suit for the occasion but this didn't deter him from picking you up and spinning you around. "I'm so proud of you," he said before planting a soft kiss on your lips.

#izziespairings #madebyizzie #cod mwii #mw2 imagine #task force 141 #captain john price #john price x reader #mw2

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vwritesawholelothm · 1 year

Text

Ten Lines, Ten People

Rules: Share the first 10 lines of your 10 most recently posted fics, and then tag 10 people. I didn't go with exactly 10 lines since how much I should share felt different for each fic, but it's my post so whatever. And I went with 10 recent fics, not the 10 most recent fics due to the fact I'm in Multiamory March rn and that would mess stuff up.

I was tagged by the lovely @mad-elia, so go look at lilies entry first ^-^

“Almost everything you do is unsafe, Darling. At least you have an expert helping you, and a properly trained dragon.”

Bliss

“Oh my god, I forgot you guys are all way too Mormon. Did you not know gay people existed? I think the rest of them know gay people exist.” “No, I didn’t! What’s a gay?” “You, apparently, by how you’re all nervous about this.”

Viva la Gays, Right?

Sparrow, on the other hand, isn't as sweet. He'll only accept a flower if it's shot at him with an arrow, and he calls Daring a dork every time he tries to recite poetry. Instead, the way to his heart is through flattery.

Daring's Affections

“I hate America. Everyone has a gun and three Wasingtonians have threatened to shoot me because I’m on their property so far. That’s how I died the second time, I don’t need that!” “Jack,” Ianto said, voice level over the phone, “you sound American and you have dozens of guns. You do not get to make moral judgments here.” “I’m not making a moral judgment, I’m pointing out how annoying they are.” “Honey, you are also annoying.”

Vampire Hunter

Apple peers through the window, catching sight of a band. Almost all of them are girls, with one guy on the keyboard. He doesn’t catch her interest, though, as she’s too struck by how gorgeous the women in the band are. One has snow-like hair, interrupted by shocks of icy blue. Another one has matching white hair, but in a different style with streaks of pastel pink, matching her rebelliously torn skirt. There’s a girl with hot pink and red mixed into her brown hair, and a fiery, hungry-for-the-world expression plastered across her face. There’s one with a gentle smile, dawning baby blue and playing her instrument with her eyes closed, like she knows the song too intimately to look at it.

You Are Gonna Rock It, Apple! - Chapter 4: Rock Me To The Core

“I miss her, Apple.” “I’m sure.” “Is this what happens to everyone? Bones in the ground that no one thinks about? That get dug up a dozen times? Do we have no life after death?” “Philosophy is for when we’re at school, Raven.”

Ever After Hamlet - Act Five

As is often the case in stories like this, the hero only meets three challenges along her quest. The next figure she meets is her dear Sparrow. But he has obscured himself, his clothes replaced with those of a prisoner and the few items he has stolen. In addition, his time in the woods has changed him. His eyes have a darker look to them, and he’s far from the kept look of most noblemen. As for Cedar, she comes across as a miserable young man, her once perpetually happy face worn tired with grief and longing. Her eyes- those of a widow, while far too young for it to fit. With neither bringing a spark of familiarity to the other, they see each other as they would see any other figure in these woods. As a foe, to be disposed of.

Ballad 150

Good, Martha thinks. She’s no stranger to people getting melted to some degree– she’s seen some weird stuff during her interplanetary travels– but this time it’s deserved. They end up back at Martha’s flat. Kitty’s has been taken back by the landlord, so Martha says that Kitty can crash on her couch as long as she needs. Secretly, Martha hopes it’ll be a while. She hopes it might morph into forever, even, but that part is so secret that she herself doesn’t realize it. Plus, she and Kitty haven’t really solidified into a “something” yet. They’re more of an “almost” for now.

First Kiss

“Listen, you Sparrows and Bluejay have gotten on my nerves for the last time. Tonight you will be given a taste of your own medicine. Again, in trial by combat.” “This is stupid!” “Yeah, this is beep!” “Call it what you want. You all need to chill out.” “Wait,” a cat slinks forward, “are all of the ladies in the stands Cedar?” “Hey!” Bluejay chirps, “my girl is Woodpecker!” The cat defensively puts up his paws and hops backwards. Brooke sighs, “Yes, all of you somehow managed to pull your respective Cedars. How you managed it, I’ll never know.”

Into the Sparrowverse

Serena sits next to him, "You're still upset about that." "I am. But I talked through it with Greninja, and I'll be fine. I just have to ground myself next time I battle." Serena smiles, brushing some snow off of his hair. "You're a lot different from the guy who jumped off Clemont's gym." He shakes his head, "I jumped off a cliff while I was out there to save a Spewpa." "Hm. Maybe jumping off of things to save people is just a core part of who you are, then?"

A Slight Smile

Tagging! @thelivingmemegod @gender-snatched @calebs-hangout-corner @feline17ff @broadwaytheanimatedseries and uhhh @/anyone I don't remember any other URLs at the moment

#writing snips

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gigglessoloud · 11 months

Text

I decided to make a small fanfiction over a silly little tik tok. I tried to make it gender neutral as best as I could. Also, it is a part far into the story because I couldn't think of a start... Plot is basically the start-ish, but I'll do that later. This is like a teaser. NSFW warning.

Venom Miguel x You.

Y/O/N=Your own name. (i didn't wanna put y/n and make it seem like those stories on wattpad...)

h/c= hair color(brown, black, red, etc.

Plot for this small part

You lived with your twin siblings, Kiren and Kaila, both at the age of 14, in a three bedroom apartment in New York. Until one day, you were walking home from your office job, and the kids were at school. You were walking by until you abruptly stopped, hearing a noise from an alley. How foolish it was of you to investigate. Now, you're here. You've sold your soul to the devil. Well, to Miguel in a sense. And now, he's been protecting you and your little family for weeks, and he wants his payback.

Warning: This is farther into the story. This is not the start. I'll post the start at a later date. This is what I had currently.

You yawned as you settled in after a long night. You took a shower, changed your clothes, and tried to stop your younger siblings from fighting. Miguel had put them in check easily. It was like the kids were scared of him. You were slightly grateful for the help. When you finally decided to take the children to their rooms, you and Miguel stayed behind. You sat down, looking up at Miguel as he stood in front of him.

Miguel had a tired look on his face, which caused you to let out a huff. “Yes Miguel?” You asked, but you were immediately taken by the next set of words. “Im fucking upset, the kids are pissing me off and I can’t keep having them run over you because you act too nice to them when they do something wrong.” The dark haired male grabbed your face forcefully glaring when you tried to pull away. Miguel smirked, “Trying to pull away? You must've forgotten who owns you. Your body, your life, your entire EXISTENCE." Miguel squeezes your chin and jawline hard. "Do you understand me, Y/O/N?” Miguel could feel the way your hands trembled under his touch, your breath shaky and trying not to seem like you are enjoying this treatment. This harsh treatment. “Miguel.. stop before the kids come back out..” which seemed to be good enough excuse that he pulled away and sighed.

Miguel picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, scoffing. “Come on.. I’m sure they’re asleep by now. Plus, I can’t hold him in much longer. It hurts..” he sighed, which, at that realization, you blushed heavily. “Miguel! Im not letting you fuck me in your other form— I swear Miguel… He wont fit!”

Miguel groaned, “Shut up, Y/O/N, you’re being loud. We haven’t even got to the fun part yet.”

It didn’t take long before the both of you were in the bedroom, and you were put down onto the ground. Miguel groans as he turns into his monstrous form, in other words, Venom. You weren't sure about this. It wasn’t like you two hadn’t done it in this form before, but it usually took much more prep than his human form. You were snapped out of your daze by Miguel barking orders. “On your knees, mouth open, understood?” Miguel said as he parted the persons lip with small kisses. His cock hardening quickly. “Open your mouth slut. Stop wriggling and stay still.” He said as he guided the first few inches of his cock into your mouth, it slowly going into your throat.

Miguel grabs a handful of your h/c locs, “Fuck..." Miguel groans. You slowly start to gag on his cock, causing you to tear up slightly. He looks at you with a smirk. "Are you crying? Stop crying. This isn’t the first time you’ve taken it. Now I know it's a teeny bit bigger compared to the human form(it's huge bro...), but if it’s too much, you know what to do, right darling?” He said with a smirk. You nod to the best of your abilities.

The end! If you have recommendations of what I could do better or do next, please leave a comment! It is greatly appreciated.

#miguel o'hara #venom #venom symbiote #not safe for minors #not safe fw #miguel x reader #spiderman

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mangospams · 2 years

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Just thinking about how toddler Hotaru throws a fit when Dabi leaves for (villain) she probably cries how how she’ll miss him and dabi probably feels guilty about leaving her home. Tabiki probably gets teary eyed but is like “no Hotaru, papa has to work!”

Also how are you, mango? It’s been a while! My work is finally over and i have free time now! Im making sugar cookies rn💕-🌻

Awww 😭😭😭 I think that Tabiki used to throw fits about him leaving too but now he doesn’t. But Hotaru still does because she doesn’t understand yet 💖 Tabiki definitely tries to calm her down before you swoop in to pick her up

Also I’m doing good!! Work was tiring but it’s over now!! Also I hope you enjoy your cookies, I’m sure they’re going to be good!!!

#mango speaks #mango answers #🥭🥭🥭#🌻 anon

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heli0s-writes · 3 years

Note

The text post about “ your fav is fucking his fist rn thinking of you” please lord let it be for Steve ( I’m. Late I know)

a/n: heheh it is :) 1.5k words of male masturbation ayyye. also, if you have not already, go check out @heavenbarnes’ ficlet, which haunts me everyday. please stop reading if you are not 18+

brooklyn after dark masterlist

slow hands*

Steve jerks off— a lot.

Even before the serum, when he was just any other violently hormonal, grass-fed, free-range human boy, instinct couldn’t be denied. Even after a long period of reflection during his catechism days, he wasn’t able to make heads or tales out of why any creator might give two shits about whether or not Steve fucks his hand.

Now as a whopping 200-pound slab of grade-A, laboratory-engineered, serum-enhanced super-soldier, if he doesn’t pump one out every twenty-four hours, it’s hard to focus on much else. All of that unbridled testosterone crawls right up behind his eyes and his brain fizzles at the edges, agitated like an animal in a cage.

(So, although it’s mostly pleasure, it’s also necessity.)

He knows that it’s best before bed because early mornings or while showering requires working within the constraints of a ticking clock; if he’s got a packed schedule and needs a quick rub, fine, but not his favorite.

He knows that he likes certain activities, and if he’s looking at porn, specific categories and maybe a few performers will fit a niche—but sometimes he’ll spiral into a hundred other videos and he’s stayed up one (or five) too many nights doing that.

More than anything, Steve knows nothing beats his imagination, and he knows the best lies you can tell are ones with a bit of truth attached to them.

So, he plays a little game.

He thinks about you.

Cheeky you, who’s always teasing him about taking life too seriously. So prim and proper, Steve, you purr, always Mr. Punctual. Aren’t you tired of being nice? Loosen up—go dancing, meet a girl, have a one-night stand; fuck with the lights on for once.

Hm. Sure he’d like to, but all he’s got is about forty-five minutes before bed because he’s frankly too busy (see: stubborn, see: not interested in just any girl) for anything else.

For forty-five minutes, Steve takes a moment of truth and runs warp speed into the burning sunset with it.

The time you put your hand in his hair to fix a flyaway before a press conference—what if you gripped it hard, instead? Your candy pink lip gloss on Friday evening—what if it smudged off on his jaw, his collar, his eager cock? How you looked lifting out of the pool with rivulets of water dribbling into the hollow of your throat—what if he pressed his cheek to it, drank from it?

(The expression that might cross your face when you realize Steve would very much like to fuck you with the lights on.)

When you kissed him on that mission in Thailand, sliding into his lap to hide the both of you in a corner nook of a restaurant. The taste of sweetened coffee passed from your mouth to his, and he couldn’t help but dart his tongue out. You playfully scolded him about taking advantage of a dangerous situation (it wasn’t that dangerous), and despite all your usual attitude, it was surprisingly cute how you couldn’t make eye contact afterwards, making him want to kiss you again just to figure you out.

Last night—when you smiled, the glimmer in your eyes like a sliver of moonlit coin and if he blinked at the wrong time, he might have missed it. Your breathy laugh, your little giggle, how you raggedly pant while you spar, he thinks about those sounds mingled with his name. Your weight, a perfect amount of pressure crawling on top of him, mapping out the expanse of his chest.

He’d be happy just to watch, finally able to see you in glimpses not bordering voyeuristic like when you zip up in the hangar or concerned when you peel off Kevlar layers smudged with gunpowder. No, you’d be relaxed and tangible, full and felt—breasts, waist, belly, the sides of your hips as you straddle him, pulling his hands toward your body and letting him touch you.

Steve sighs into the darkness of his room, sweats shucked off, lube-slick hand feeling for his already aching cock. What’s he going to think about tonight? The small of your back when you lean over the pool table? The long, graceful shape of your fingers exploring his torso? Your face dazed, tipsy-tinged after a few drinks and sweet on his shoulder?

(He would like more of that. He could make you look like that if you ever asked.)

His hips move in careful circles, testing his grip, nudging at the tunnel of his fist like how your pussy would resist the first thrust until he wedges his way past it, slipping the head of his cock into your warmth. You’d be so, so warm. So soft and tight and perfectly fitted around him.

“Ah, fuck,” Steve mutters, eyes squeezed shut.

He fucks into his fist, the sound of slick gushing out like wet slaps, like the hot clutch of noise your tight hole would make as he’d stretch it out—as he’d stretch you out.

He’s panting harder. You‘d look breathtaking on all fours, head turned around to see him rutting inside, jaw slack in disbelief that your body could keep taking him like this, like you could break any moment.

The pretty, pretty whimpers at the harsh punctuation of every thrust. They’d tear loose from your throat and you wouldn’t be able to bite them down anymore. You could unravel because of him—shattering because he’ll have gotten past your defenses, gotten so deep you could do nothing but arch back for more, needing him further, needing him to know you how nobody else knows you.

Steve’s mind races through each position— every arrangement of your arms and legs in ways you’d give into because he would make the burn delicious, blurring discomfort into pleasure, and how you wouldn’t care if it might hurt because desire would be the drive— him behind the wheel taking you closer to that cliff’s edge.

He’s peeling off into the horizon now, moaning, bucking carelessly, blinded by the bright sun, by the white threatening to explode behind his eyes.

“Uhhhnn—” he looks down at his throbbing cock, swollen with friction and fiction, his other hand rolling the tender skin of his sac between his fingers. He squeezes a hair trigger tighter, in pulses, mimicking how you’d feel close to coming, begging for his release to fill you. Your hands gripping his hair for purchase, hard and frenzied, the scrape of your nails on his scalp. And finally, the abandoned, purely physical response of your body during orgasm, the undeniable wrecked wail of his name.

He’d be rough and gentle all at once, he’d make you taste yourself, clean up the mess you’ve made on him, and then he’d kiss it out of your mouth when he fucks you again. You’d be sore already, and sore the next day. He’d want to leave you aching, shuddering, babbling and delirious for more, for only him.

You’d cry, Steve, oh—my god—oh my god—feels so good, Steve. Fuck me harder, please. However you want—whatever you want, I promise.

You’d suck on his fingers, bite down when it became too much, too good. You’d shake, and shake, and shake and Steve— he falls.

Spun out, headfirst, off the steepest bluff of his inventions and crashes into open waves beneath. Your moaning mouth, your soaked cunt, your entire being an unprimed canvas waiting for his splatter.

And it’d be perfect.

He comes in ropes, gasping into the reverberating echo of his own breath, hips still moving, back still arched, wet slick dripping down into his fist where he keeps going, using it as another coat of lube. Maybe you’d squirt. Maybe you’d put your face in your hands, embarrassed, or maybe you’d lose all control and he’ll have to hold you up.

The second wave comes fast and better than the first.

The third, easy, only tinged with a prickle of rawness that makes his toes curl.

Steve’s chest is sweat-slick and heaving, heat rising off his body as he evens out, throat murmuring the syllables of your name in yearning. He nudges hair off his forehead with the back of his clean hand, and then he checks his clock.

Back to reality, forty-five minutes on the dot tells him he’s still punctual, as you say.

He cleans up, stretching his back as he ambles to the restroom before returning to bed, satisfied. And when Steve tucks himself in for another peaceful night’s sleep, he wonders what you do in the privacy of darkness and if your ritual is anything like his own.

Do you shuck off your lounge clothes? Do you fuck yourself beneath layers of covers with your fingers? A toy? Grab your tits and put those same fingers in your mouth? Do you think about someone—do you think about him? His dick is still half-hard, half-raring for another session because the fourth and fifth time, when it hurts even worse, feels like coming up for breath after a drowning-- feels beyond good.

He’ll think about you some more tomorrow.

(He’ll think about making you come four or five times.)

#steve rogers #marvel #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagines

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sw1mmingfoolz · 2 years

Text

✨ cake - lee donghyuck (haechan) ✨

requested? Y/N - '*cracks knuckles* let's do this // pairing: reader x haechan // prompts: 24, 30, 77, 84 // - livvie (who is looking forward to this') - @crimsoncauldron

a/n: thanks for requesting lovely! i hope i did it justice, honestly i suck at keeping my work concise this isn't even a drabble LMAO 😭 also not well versed in e2l so... here's hoping you like it uwu :) mad i can't add my usual 3 aesthetics because tumblr is being SO fucky wucky rn, i have tried to post this a million times already the readmores refuse to work rn too so. tumblr fix ur shit pls!!! feedback is always very appreciated! 💕💕💕

wc: 4.3k

genre: e2l, angst, fluff

pairing: haechan x gn!reader

content warnings: me being unable to not include cocky characters, swearing, mentions of toxic parents/family dynamics

24. “you’re safe with me, i’m here to protect you.”

30. “stop pretending you’re okay, ‘cause i can see that you’re not.”

77. enemies to lovers

84. college!AU

“You know 99% is like, ridiculously good, right?” Jaemin asked with furrowed brows as you shot daggers at your returned paper, looking for where you dropped a mark. Upon getting no answer your best friend elbowed you sharply in the upper arm, causing you to yelp and turn your glare on him instead.

“It’s not 100, therefore it’s not good enough,” you huffed, to which he rolled his eyes.

“Your expectations for yourself are way too high. Some might say impossible,” Before you could think of a snarky retort you caught sight of the last person you wanted to at this moment opposite you in the hall. You couldn’t exactly blame him for being there; your lockers faced each other after all, but his laid back smile as he showed everyone his perfect paper boiled a fury in the pit of your stomach you absolutely despised. Jaemin followed your raging eyes to Donghyuck and sighed, slamming his own locker shut and startling you.

“You’re so unsubtle it hurts. Why are you so mad at him for doing well?” He asked, glancing back at the small group of friends surrounding the ever-so-slightly older male. You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest and turning away so as to not get caught staring.

“I’m not. I’m mad at him for being a cocky asshole about it,” you grumbled, pitching your voice down the best you could to mimic his speech. “I don’t even like science, I didn’t even study for this.” Jaemin snorted at your incredibly far off impression and shrugged his shoulders.

“I dunno, Yn, if I got 100% on tests I didn’t study for I’d be cocky about it as well.”

“And I’d probably hate you for it too,” you shot back, shoving your paper into your locker and as such the back of your mind. “I’m hungry, buy me lunch?”

“Buy your own lunch, freeloader!”

It was a cycle you were used to, though not enough to stop being surprised when seeing Donghyuck made flames erupt in your stomach and dance their way up to your throat, acrid and bitter. Sure, it was probably rather one sided, for he barely acknowledged your presence, but there was nothing you hated more than his attitude. He rolled up to class only to be a distraction the whole time, wearing his invisible ‘class clown’ badge with pride, bragged constantly about how he never even needed to study (not that he had the time, with choir, dance club and football), and managed to score perfectly on literally everything he did. In a way your internalised rivalry drove you, furious graphite scribbles and messy notes consuming your evenings with his arrogant expression and smug smirk etched into the grooves of your brain. But you also knew it wasn’t exactly healthy, nor sustainable, and Jaemin was tired of greeting you outside every morning to find you having not eaten in over half a day, running on three hours of sleep and a sugar free Redbull with deep purple bags permanently camping in the skin beneath your eyes. There was only so much he could scold you - he wasn’t your mother as well as he fit the role - but your actual mom’s nagging was just as ineffective, if not moreso. Your actual mother’s nagging went in the completely opposite direction.

You were nothing but your grades, and it had been ingrained into you from a young age. How well you did directly affected your family and their status - and you were not to embarrass them by being a failure. Anything below 100% was indicative of your slacking, or worse, ineptitude, and it burned you to embers, stifled under the smoke of envisioned success. But even Jaemin didn’t know this, constant excuses keeping him from ever setting foot in your house, your strict curfew being the extent of his knowledge of your home life at all. You weren’t one to be a burden, after all.

Even the way Donghyuck strolled into class annoyed you. His shoulders back and head high, greeting everyone with a wide smile, you hated how ridiculously easy he had it. He noticed you looking at him and gave you a grin and a nod, which you strained yourself to return. Hell if you’d let him know how you actually felt, although you would be surprised if he’d never felt the intensity of your eyes boring holes into the back of his skull when he was nearby. Chemistry, again, his supposed least favourite subject (joining the other sciences), but one he was so incessantly successful in that there might as well have been no one else in the class. That is, in your professor's eyes. Chest heaving with the irritation at it all, you almost missed her informing the class of a partnered project worth a big chunk of your grade, and as such when Donghyuck turned around in his seat to face you your first emotion was pure confusion. He avoids me, and I like it that way.

“Guess we’re partners,” he flashed you such a confident smile it made your stomach churn, his legs kicking under the desk gaily. You swallowed thickly, unable to stop a small frown contorting your face.

“What?”

“Were you not listening? We’re partners!” his cheery expression didn’t falter as he explained to you, and you knew your face was reddening against your will when you felt it heat up. You didn’t know why exactly you wanted to burst into tears, but it hit you so strongly you had to excuse yourself, running to lock yourself in a bathroom stall down the hall and leaning against the door. You put your hand over your chest as you tried to calm your breathing, tears brimming in your eyes as the overwhelm you refused to let yourself feel hit you all at once. You felt the universe was against you - now you had to see his horrendous work ethic up close, probably put in twice as much effort as he did, and probably watch him sail by on an impressively perfect grade while you were left in the “almost there but just not good enough” limbo of 99%. Your fists clenched and you resigned yourself to the tears, letting them streak your face as silently as you could manage as you stared at the ceiling.

You didn’t let yourself feel weak for long, as you knew it would be suspicious. You splashed cool water on your face, waiting to be a little less puffy before you walked back into the classroom and took your seat again, however it seemed nothing escaped him as his eyes flickered over your face.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m good. I’m Yn, by the way,” you said, voice made even with great effort, realising you still hadn’t introduced yourself.

“I know.” That grin again. “I’m-”

“Donghyuck, I know,” you returned, flashing him the most self assured smile you could conjure. He nodded before pulling his notebook from the bench in front of him, pen readied in his hand.

“When are you available? My schedule tends to be pretty packed but we have to find some time to work on this, so,”

“Ah, so you’re not just going to leave me to do it all myself?” The remark slipped out before you could stop yourself, and you knew you sounded crazy, especially when you caught Jaemin glaring at you from the other end of your bench. Donghyuck blinked at you, confused, before laughing awkwardly.

“No, I hate people who do that in group projects. Do Tuesday afternoons work for you? We can start tomorrow if so, maybe go to the cafe off campus or something. Guessing you don’t want a stranger in your house,” he chuckled. You nodded.

“They don't even want their best friend in their house,” you heard Jaemin mutter under his breath, feeling his eyes on you.

“Tuesday is fine. The cafe is fine, too,” you said, ignoring your best friend.

“Well then. That’s… fine then.” his smile was softer now as he wrote 'tuesday afternoons' down. “Do you wanna exchange Katalk IDs? For arrangements and all that stuff.” Again you agreed, and as he sorted out the basics you hoped he didn’t notice how badly your brain had frozen upon having to actually speak to the man you had hated from afar for the better part of a year already. He did, but he didn’t say a word.

You wished Tuesday wouldn’t come, for Monday to become Wednesday somehow, or maybe for you to die suddenly in your sleep. But in spite of your own dramatism the days continued as usual, and you found yourself perched on a tall stool opposite him at an equally tall table, freshly made hot drink leaving a small sheen of moisture on your chin as you hovered your face over it. He had insisted on paying, for some reason.

“So I say we go with the caffeine from waste tea and coffee experiment because the project is pretty simple, it’s been done a hundred times before…” He spoke somewhat passionately for a subject he claimed to hate, pen never seeming to leave his hand. You quickly learned that he made a note of everything, no matter how miniscule seeming. They were neat and sometimes colour coded in highlighter. You looked down at your own chicken scratch and urged the ground to swallow you up before you had to take a second more of sitting across from him. Your chest felt heavy and you had no idea how you got through the entire hour you’d scheduled together, drink long forgotten until the end where you chugged it down cold in the hopes of relieving how dry your mouth felt. You’d lost count of how many times he’d asked if you were feeling ill, which you could only consider faux concern. You didn’t know why, though, as you were the only person who seemed to indulge in any kind of disdain for the other. Donghyuck was positively ambivalent, which you supposed was normal to say you had barely spoken at all before being partnered up.

“So, what’s your deal?” He asked, and you felt a chill wash over you. You were that easily read?

“What do you mean?” You tried to keep your voice steady, fidgeting with the pen in your hands.

“Like, where are you from, what do you wanna be in the future, all the basic stuff.” He beamed at you, oddly encouraging, yet the tension in your shoulders did not ease. He's trying to get to know me?

“Well, I moved to Seoul a few years ago, and at the moment chemical engineering is what I’m most interested in. So I’m pretty excited for this project. We relocated because of my dad’s job. Uh, I’m best friends with Jaemin, who is also in our class…” You didn’t know why you were struggling to find things to say - you had your hobbies and interests, plenty of them even - but you felt as if your head were spinning. “I’m a little boring, I guess,”

“I don't think so. Chemical engineering, that’s pretty cool. I can’t wrap my head around the sciences, I’m only even taking this course because-” He stopped himself mid sentence, looking away awkwardly and opting to sip from his iced americano instead. “Well anyway, we moved because of my dad’s job too. Technically. I was born in Seoul but we moved to Jeju for a few years when I was a kid.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Jeju is really pretty.”

“It is! I miss it sometimes, but Seoul is cool too. Better for good schools, I guess,” he chuckled. His pen twirled between his fingers, eyes constantly alternating between looking at you and the table, his demeanour a weird mix of timid and overly assured. You hated that you felt drawn to him, wanting to know more, wanting to know why he stopped himself from telling you why he took this course.

You didn’t mention it.

Next Tuesday seemed to come faster than the last, and the next even moreso, with a month passing in a blur of weekly meetings (and once biweekly), stolen glances at one another that definitely did not hold the same emotion, and his neat little notes preparing for the actual experiment. This particular Tuesday, you wished you’d at least applied concealer or something to make yourself look a little more alive, time flying from you during the night and dissipating in the white glow of your laptop screen. You had not slept.

You’d arrived and seated yourself before he did, a small clink meeting your ears as he placed a plate before you. A slice of cake sat on the delicate china, simple but pretty, your usual drink order following it.

“Cake?” You asked dumbly, brain seeming to have forgotten all words and replaced them with static. He smiled as he slid into the seat opposite you, producing his usual note taking supplies from his backpack.

“You look like you haven’t eaten much. I wanted to get you something a bit more proper but I don’t know what you like,” The ice you’d solidified your heart in seemed to melt a little, eyes softening with it.

“That’s really thoughtful, thank you,” you mumbled as you began eating it, consciously trying to look as graceful as you could as you wished you could shove the whole thing in your mouth in one go. You hadn’t realised how ravenous you really were, well accustomed to ignoring the growling monster of your stomach.

“I have time after this if you’ll let me treat you to lunch?” he asked nonchalantly, not looking up at you as he did. His mannerisms were shy, but somehow he still exuded more confidence than you thought you ever had. Ever the enigma.

“Why?”

“Because you need to eat better,” he scoffed, looking up at you this time. You frowned, shaking your head.

“No, I mean, why are you so nice to me?”

“You haven’t given me any reason not to be?” He looked confused, and suddenly the usually comforting background chatter and coffee machine noises seemed way too deafening. You cast your gaze down to your hands resting at the table.

“I mean, I haven’t exactly liked you much,”

“I caught you glaring at me a few times but I thought it was just a coincidence? I figured we were getting along quite well,”

“I mean, yeah, but no…" he looked more confused and you sighed in frustration, running a hand through your hair and meeting his gaze with every shred of will you could conjure. "I’ve found myself hating you so much it makes my blood feel like it’s genuinely boiling,” You admitted quietly, feeling suddenly extremely small as the man who had shown you nothing but amicability made no effort to hide his dropped jaw. His eyes watched you carefully, evidently not sure of what to say.

“W…why?” Everything in his body urged him to leave, to just accept that you did not feel anywhere near the same about him as he did you, ears burning. He felt stupid for thinking you were giving him the same energy as he had been you. Maybe your backstory was all fake, fabricated for the sake of being friendly, he thought, watching you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

“I just,” you sighed deeply, hands worrying at each other. “This is going to sound really pathetic.”

“I want to hear it,” he urged, and you understood, for if someone you’d been working closely with and sharing pretty affable casual conversation with for a month suddenly admitted to hating you that much you’d want to know their reason too.

“I just despise how easy you have it,” you murmured, words straining to escape your throat. You knew how bitter they were, and you knew you probably sounded a little crazy, but you’d already started now. Might as well let the mask fall.

“Easy?” he repeated, eyes narrowing at you. “What makes you think that?”

“You’re just so laid back about everything! You’re constantly distracting in classes, brag every time we have a test or assignment about how you don’t even study, and you still have perfect grades? And you’re in a bunch of clubs, and everyone likes you,” you realised you were rambling and bit down on your tongue slightly, eyes threatening to water again. “You just always struck me as a cocky asshole, I guess,” you finished, a good ending blow to knock the wind out of his sails. He sat, astonished, before his face contorted into a mix of anger and disappointment you didn’t think he was capable of.

“So, you took me for a cocky asshole while making a bunch of assumptions? Never spoke to me or got to know me, just decided who I was and how I have it?” He all but spat his words, packing away his notebook and his pens with a little too much fervour. He slammed a few 1000 won notes in front of you, face hot with rage, and your eyes swam. “Get something to eat, and talk to me when you’ve come to your senses. For your information, I have it far from easy, but you don’t get to judge me regardless.” He stormed out of the cafe as you stared at the money in front of you. As if he’s still buying me lunch.

You stared at your chatroom with Donghyuck solemnly, guilty swirling within you like a storm. It had been a few days and he was occupying your mind like it were his home, while avoiding you like the plague at school. Most of your messages were sending one another TikToks you found funny, random memes, and scheduling your Tuesday meets, but one message stood out over the rest.

hyuck: you’re so much cooler than I ever imagined, lol :)

He’d admitted he never paid you much attention because of how quiet you were but called you cute, and openly stated he admired your passion for the subject. You had started feeling quite lucky he was your partner - Jaemin had been left doing the brunt of his project as his partner was way more consumed by a party lifestyle that allowed little time for actual academics, his complaining sitting unanswered in your notifications bar. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard before you found yourself typing, then backspacing, then typing again, then backspacing again.

It took an hour to finally send a message; half of the time spent writing it and the other half spent with your thumb teasing at the send button, heart attempting to break free of your ribcage. Donghyuck’s phone lit up as the Katalk notification sounded, dragging his attention from the notes he’d continued poring over in your absence.

you: can we meet? i fucked up, and i owe you an apology and an explanation. if you’ll hear them

He hesitated in answering, watching his phone screen as if he expected it to tell him the answer. He was hurt by your admission and upset that he'd thought you were actually beginning to get rather close, but he was also one for actual communication. He rolled his eyes and typed quickly.

hyuck: cafe, tomorrow.

The air was so heavy it slumped your shoulders as you sat across from an empty seat, having arrived early on purpose. A cake, the same he'd gotten you a few days prior, sat next to an iced coffee, and your fingers drummed impatiently at the smooth wood as your breath raced. You didn't see him arrive, as you were staring down at your lap, however his presence was always one you could feel. It was usually warm and inviting, but at that moment, it was careful and untrusting, making nausea rise in your stomach. You sipped your own drink in silence.

"Cake?"

"A peace offering," you smiled weakly, gesturing for him to sit down. "Look, I know I fucked up, and I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have been so quick to make assumptions, it just always looked like you were sailing through and it made me feel so… inadequate," your eyes were anywhere but his, avoidant and skittish, while he watched you speak intently. He sighed before forking some of the cake into his mouth, chewing slowly deliberately.

"Well, I accept your apology, because to me it seems you're under so much stress you projected it onto me," he poked his fork in your direction, scattering a few crumbs on the table's surface. You blinked slowly, unable to believe he'd read you so well. You then remembered the psych elective you'd both had together.

"I'm fine, honestly. I was just being an asshole,"

"Yn," his voice was stern, eyes dark and serious. “Stop pretending you’re okay, because I can see that you’re not.” You gulped at his words, not expecting them to hit you as hard as they did, as your eyes started to well up. He moved a hand to place it over one of yours on the table, a gesture that shocked you.

"You're still so nice to me," you sobbed, mildly embarrassed but too upset to care much. His expression was soft and sad, silently urging you to unburden yourself to him. "You're right. My grades are basically my worth, in my parents eyes. If I don't do well, I get kicked out. My entire life is studying, I am constantly neglecting myself, and it has made me way more bitter than I'd wanted to admit. I saw how laid back you were and it made me feel jealous. I wanted that. I want to laugh freely and coast through my courses, but I can't. I am just suffocating, constantly," It all came gushing out before you could restrain yourself, tears flowing just as unabated. You hardly noticed as he stood up to move to the seat next to you, warm arms wrapping tightly around you and pulling you into his shoulder to cry, hidden from the curious gazes of other cafe goers.

After a while you were reduced to sniffles, head throbbing dully and breathing ragged. You did feel a little lighter, though. "I'm sorry if I ruined your shirt," you sniffed, to which he chuckled lightly.

"They're just tears, Yn, they'll wash out," You smiled and he wiped your cheeks with his thumbs, so gently you barely felt them. You blinked up at him sadly, and he swore he felt his heart break.

"I'm sorry, I really am. I don't think I ever hated you, I just hated my situation and needed a target,"

"I know," he murmured, a hand coming up to brush fingers through your hair rather clumsily. "It's okay, I forgive you. I really did feel we were getting pretty close, though,"

"We were! I mean, I'm honestly quite fond of you, even if I do still think you're a bit cocky," you jibed, poking his ribs a little.

"At least I'm not an asshole this time," he grinned. "And I really meant it when I said I don't have it easy. That time I stopped myself, I was scared of oversharing, but since you've allowed yourself to be so vulnerable with me…" he trailed off, voice small, and you took his hand and squeezed it.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, but I'm happy to listen," you encouraged, earning a gentle nod.

"My clubs are all that keep me sane. I really do despise the sciences, but I take them because my dad makes me. I kinda rely on him for tuition and all," You blinked at him as you processed what he told you, your gradually fading guilt coming back to punch you in the gut with a vengeance. You really had it all wrong.

"I know how that feels," you frowned, lower lip jutting out a little at the thought of him feeling the same pressure you'd been drowning in for so long.

"It's not easy for me to do well. I actually study like a maniac behind the scenes, but you can't tell anyone that," he giggled, and you rolled your eyes.

"Your secret is safe with me!"

"We have more in common than I realised," he hummed, hand still comforting in your hair. He was surprisingly tender in his movements, and coupled with the weight of your crying session it was enough to begin lulling you to sleep. You felt it hit you in strong waves, however you fought them, blearily blinking at Donghyuck. "Now we've sorted that out, I feel like you need sleep," he chuckled. "But Yn?"

"Yeah?"

"That time I asked to buy you lunch… maybe we can still do that? Like, as a date?"

"A date?" you were so stunned it brought you back a little more to the realm of the awake. He'd spent weeks falling for you, and you were too caught up in your own judgement to notice?

"Yeah, I mean. I really like you, and our little cafe hang outs. I'd love to get to know you even better, if you'll let me?" You watched his face, finding him nothing but genuine, before nodding, leaning against his shoulder as fatigue continued to batter your body.

"I'd love that, Donghyuck. You're quite the catch yourself, y’know," your speech was slightly slurred, making him giggle into your hair. He pressed a gentle kiss to your head, careful in case he was crossing a line, and when you hummed in contentment he allowed you a stronger one before helping you to your feet.

"Let me take you home, sleepyhead," he teased, supporting you as you all but slumped entirely against him. "You're gonna have to at least show me the way, though,"

"My mom is gonna be pissed that I'm wasting precious studying time on a man," you groaned, making him laugh loudly.

"That's okay, I'll fight your mom," You snorted at his serious sounding joke, though his next words immediately softened you, heart suddenly soaring because of the one man you thought you'd find yourself repelled by forever. “You’re safe with me, I'm here to protect you.”

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beyondspaceandstars · 2 years

Text

Treacherous (8)

Relationship: Druig x Reader Warnings: angst, fighting, maybe suggestive scenes Summary: Soulmate!AU - Soulmate tattoos are incredibly rare but you’ve never felt really proud to have one. Everyone else around you gushed over it while you found the whole thing ominous and a little inconvenient. Truthfully, you were never really convinced you’d find your other half… That is until a random camping trip leads you to a quaint village run by a dark and brooding man who just so happens to be your soulmate. Stuck in the forest with nothing else to lose, you agree to join his world, his little village, and see if there’s actually love behind the markings. A/N: I apologize this is the only content I rn have to give ksjdfalsjdflj I started a new job and have been trying to adjust but I get so tired after work lmao I'm gonna do better I promise

‘Treacherous’ Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You woke up the next morning sore and full of regret. In your fit of rage, you had decided to sleep on the couch, not wanting to even be in the same room as your soulmate. You hadn’t even bothered to change out of your pajamas.

These actions had concerned Druig. You could feel the worry radiating off of him when he finally came back into the house. You made sure to position yourself so your back was facing the door in order to avoid any eye contact or acknowledgment from him. But that hadn’t worked as well as you thought it would, not when you could sense him standing in the doorway watching you.

Thankfully, though, he didn’t say anything, choosing, as you had, to let the situation rest for the night. It maybe wasn’t the smartest given the fact everyone says not to go to bed angry but those people had never been in your shoes. Hell, you didn’t think any pair of soulmates had ever been in your shoes. You were making up the rules as you went.

You weren’t sure how much sleep you actually got. One second you were shutting your eyes, trying to block out your thoughts, and the next you were being awakened by the sound of someone cooking.

It didn’t take long for your tired brain to piece it together. Druig was making breakfast for you. Again. You didn’t know it was possible to feel worse about everything until the smell of fresh coffee hit your nose.

You had straight-out rejected his advancements — advancements you were enjoying — and stormed away like some kind of child yet here he was making you food. You covered your eyes in frustration and let out a low groan.

"You’re awake," Druig commented as food sizzling in a pan filled your senses. He was very monotone with his statement. It made you uneasy.

"You’re cooking," you replied, still facing the couch pillows.

Druig scoffed. "I’m running out of ways to apologize."

Your frowned, suddenly feeling mixed on everything. On one hand, you felt bad about your actions and wanted to apologize, but also… He had been the one to be so forward. Weren’t you upset because of him?

"Apologize?"

Druig let out a vague hum in confirmation. "I scared you. You… You’re so scared nearly all of the time."

Scared? He had called you scared last night but you hadn’t thought much about it given the fact he had you occupied with other things. But now, in the hazy, post-anger glow of it all, you could understand where he was coming from. You were scared — but who wouldn’t be in this situation? There was so much to be scared of, you didn’t think the feeling would ever end. You couldn’t believe he was… Surprised? Offended by this?

"That’s a natural human response," you bit back.

"But I’m your soulmate," he replied, throwing right back the snappy tone you had delivered. "You shouldn’t be scared of me. You should be happy or at least comfortable. You could feel safe, appreciated. Welcomed. I try and I wait and I get… I get to sleep alone, I get pushed away."

That was it for you. You weren’t going to let him throw a pity party. Fueled by the anger that has replenished in your heart, you shoved yourself off the couch and stormed into the kitchen.

"I’m sorry I’m hesitant to just jump in your arms but you have to look at this from my standpoint," you snapped. "I didn’t expect my soulmate to be some recluse that lives in the middle of the Amazon and I sure as shit didn’t expect to have to uproot my life to try to be with them."

Druig’s hand hit the counter in frustration. "But you’re not really trying, are you? There’s something here and we both can feel it yet you — you don’t want to face it." He wasted no time firing right back at you. "I understand you face giving up a lot but we won’t get anywhere if you keep acting like this. Have I truly done anything to force you away? To make you scared?"

He didn’t actually want an answer, that was evident in his tone. His sarcastic, aggravated tone you hated. It was becoming very quick to you that you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Druig’s anger and it wasn’t even a fear thing. It was a sad thing. You just felt…hopeless when your soulmate was upset. It was a sensation you couldn’t control.

“I’ve never felt anything like this towards another person before,” you admitted. "Even the…annoyance I have is overwhelming. It’s… It’s hard to handle so many new things at once." As your words flowed out, a splatter of tears in your eyes made an appearance. "But I think I want to try, I really believe I do."

Druig turned back to the food still simmering on the stove. He was making make fried eggs, over easy, you noticed.

"You think you do?"

"I’m still standing here," you said. "That must mean something."

"It might just mean you can’t navigate your way out of the forest, aye?" He retorted with a scoff, but you knew he didn’t mean that statement, you knew deep in your heart it was just the bitter end of anger talking.

In some form of defeat, you crossed the kitchen so that you two were now standing side by side. But Druig still wasn’t looking away from the food.

"I… I can do better," you said softly, blinking away the remaining tears.

"We’re a pair then, yes?" Druig asked, hesitantly. "Partners?"

"Mates, even," you added with a breathy laugh. Druig matched you with a chuckle of his own. Even a slight smile crept onto his lips.

"I’m sorry for being so harsh," he eventually muttered. "It is just that… Since you waltzed into my village, what I have felt for you has been consuming, exciting. I may not have been able to show it in the best of ways and to see you struggling with our bond…it’s all so heartbreaking. But I should’ve been fairer to you. I don’t realize what you have left behind, I just want to make right now good for you — the future good for you."

Druig’s words were so soft but the emotions hit you like a train. You had felt his care — his love, even — before but this was truly next level. You didn’t think he could get more passionate.

Your fight-or-flight instinct wanted you to push it aside, stay skeptical, but that part of you had been winning for so long. When you looked beyond it, there was something in you that found his actions, his words endearing. You could tell he truly meant all of it. Druig never half-assed anything, you realized.

"You must know that I can never fully leave behind what I had in New York," you sighed, "but I also know I can’t keep hiding behind it when I said I’d give…this, us, a try."

"I don’t want you to leave behind anything. I just wish for you to be here with me, in the present," Druig said. But after a thoughtful moment, he added, "Although, maybe we could do something about that little boyfriend."

Oh, of course. That storm cloud hovering over everything. Maybe that was one part of your previous life you could actually leave behind eventually. Perhaps without regrets. Even if the idea did make you feel guilty.

It wasn’t your boyfriend’s fault you were in the position you were but also…you never hid the tattoo from him, yet he chose to live by his beliefs and in some ways, you had, too. Unfortunately, his beliefs only got you so far.

They got you here.

"Well," you said, "hopefully we never have to cross that bridge." Frankly, you didn’t know what you meant by that. You were just looking to switch the conversation.

"No?" Druig hummed. "You don’t think he’s going to show up here one day? Finally having tracked down his lovely, loyal girlfriend?"

You chose to very much ignore the word loyal. It was just Druig showcasing his bitter side which never failed to make itself known when it comes to such…sensitive topics.

But there isn’t to say there wasn’t some point to his comment. Was your boyfriend tracking you down? Would he just show up here one day? Or had he taken rescue searches back to New York in hopes of someone or something there helping him? Chances of him giving up were slim but that didn’t mean effort would work.

"I… I don’t know," you admitted as you began pulling out plates to set the table for breakfast. Likely sensing your hesitancy, Druig dropped the topic and went back to the cooking breakfast, much to your relief.

***

After breakfast, Druig was back to being by your side as much as he possibly could. Now with the Big Date being done and over and having had the conversation, he seemed actually eager to follow you to the crafting circle (a name you had adopted for it but it was yet to catch on).

"How’s the knitting come along?" Druig asked as you two made your way across the center of the village. You could see the women were almost done setting up. Your project was laid out in the spot that had become your seat.

"Good," you replied. "I’m making a blanket."

"A blanket?"

You nodded. "I can’t wait for you to see it, actually," you admitted. You weren’t sure where the admission stemmed from but you couldn’t miss how it made Druig’s eyes light up.

"Is the blanket for anything in particular?" Druig inquired vaguely. You bit back your smirk.

"Are you asking me if I made you a blanket?"

Druig shrugged and looks away. "A blanket could be for anything," he pointed out. "Perhaps it’s a baby blanket."

You shot a look at Druig, appalled and surprised, but he just had a little playful smirk on his lips. Was he…making a joke? Teasing you? He had odd ways of doing it. This man certainly had the weirdest social skills you think you’ve ever seen. But, then again, what could you expect from someone that wasn’t technically of this world?

"Is there an abundant need for baby blankets here?" You asked as you passed other villagers heading off to their jobs and chores. They greeted you two with shy, meaningful smiles — smiles you weren’t sure how to return.

"Generations grow at a steady but manageable pace," Druig explained shortly, vaguely.

You let out a noncommittal hum in acknowledgment as you approached the group of women. They greeted you both with waves and a chorus of good mornings. Druig just nodded but you made sure to greet them individually, having found that they all keep great company even if you only caught on to half of their conversations. They had, in a way, taken you in.

After saying your greetings, you picked up your project and took your usual seat in the circle. As expected, Druig sat close behind you.

You looked over your half-done blanket before presenting it to Druig to see. His eyes grew wide as you showed it off which you didn’t quite blame him for. It was…a lot. You had used pretty much every color available to make some sort of chaotic rainbow blanket. It was lively and warming as you wanted. You could already feel how cozy it was going to be. You couldn’t stop yourself from picturing how it would look in…the house.

"I know it’s a bit crazy but I think it’s so fun," you said. "I also just wanted to try out all the yarn the villagers have made. I’m pleasantly surprised, it’s all so soft and bright."

Druig gently ran his fingers over the lines and lines of knitted yarn. His eyes scanned your work intimately, excitedly.

"It’s beautiful," he muttered as he took it in.

"Really?" You felt your face getting warm. "It—It’s not done yet but I think it’s coming along well. Hopefully, it makes for a good blanket."

"You’re doing so well, darling," Druig said, making your heart flutter without warning. Your body now felt like it was on fire. You didn’t understand his fascination — it was just a blanket — but your heart didn’t try to reason with it like your brain wanted to. Another blessing, or curse, from the bond.

You were about to respond, likely with something bashful and dismissive, when you heard giggling coming from the women in the circle. You glanced over to find everyone staring at you two as they knitted away at their projects. Frankly, it was quite impressive how they never lost their flow as they worked but also, you were concerned about why all their eyes were on you.

"Darling," One of the women repeated in English. She then muttered something in Spanish under her breath before adding, "Adorable, adorable." The group agreed with nods and more giggles.

"They think we make a nice couple," Druig translated. He nodded toward the woman who had made the comment. "Adorable, as she put it."

Were you on fire now? You felt like you were on fire. You were going to start a forest fire, you swore.

Slightly embarrassed, you pulled your blanket out of Druig’s grip and placed it in your lap. Your fingers fiddled with loose yarn absentmindedly.

"They don’t know that we’re not…a perfect pair," you stated. Druig shrugged.

"They see what they believe," he explained. "You know this already. They have their ideas, their myths, their stories. We embody it in their eyes."

How could you forget? The whole concept was both flattering and upsetting. Never in a million years had you thought there were people who…believed in you. Like you were an urban legend.

"What are their love lives like?" You asked, changing the subject abruptly. If villagers could discuss and awe you, couldn’t you do it for them?

Druig turned to you, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"These women must have partners, yes?" You looked back at the group. You could tell a few were listening in but you weren’t sure how much they were picking up on. The others appeared busy with their work but, again, you didn’t know which were being sneaky.

"I don’t really know, you’d have to ask them, dear," Druig said. "I don’t always keep track of my villagers in such a way. Generally, I am only aware of a couple when they come to me to share news about their engagement." Druig shifted his sitting form and added, "A few of these women are married."

Curiously, you observed the women. Sure enough, some of them had little silver bands gracing their ring finger.

"So, how does it work?" You asked and began working on your blanket as you awaited his response. You kind of liked knowing more about how this village operated. It could truly be like you were on a different planet given their purposeful isolation. "Do they have to come to you for, like…permission?" Gosh, when you worded it like that it sounded like you had landed in a cult… Well, then again —

Druig chuckled at your words. "Permission?" He shook his head. "I do not give out ‘permission’ for such a thing. They are free to marry who they please, I don’t wish to protrude like that. It is just that I must be informed of the engagement so I can marry them."

"You’ve never interfered?" You clarified, kind of finding that hard to fully believe given his abilities.

Druig shifted, uneasy. "I may be guilty of nudging people in certain directions but really, they have free will, I promise you."

You resisted rolling your eyes or scolding him for such actions and instead asked, "You lead all the weddings?" You hadn’t found any signs of a mainstream religion being present here. It seemed that Druig was the closest they got to a "holy" figure.

"I certainly do," Druig confirmed, "and I have for many generations. It’s…a nice part of it all." He paused. "You know, you will have to be apart of the process now."

You frowned as you continued making your knitting knots. You were just finishing up with a row of yellow and hoped to move on to the burnt orange next. "How so?"

"You are my partner," he explained. "You will have to assist me with engagement news, wedding ceremonies, the whole thing."

"I— What?" You did your best to process as you knitted but, frankly, this was overwhelming. Maybe you liked it better when Druig left you to your crafting circle. "So, they’ll have to come to us? And we will conduct the weddings?"

"Yes," Druig confirmed.

"I… I didn’t really sign on to be a…leader like you—,"

"Neither of us signed on for any of this, did we?"

You halted your hands. "Did you not choose to create this village?"

While you didn’t actually understand how this place came to be, this didn’t feel like part of the plan to save humanity or whatever. If it had been, where were the other Eternals? This appeared to be Druig’s and only Druig’s.

"Complicated," he replied sharply. "There’s nothing to fret about right now, darling. I haven’t caught wind of any couples in such a serious position."

You didn’t like him averting your question but you were slowly getting used to that part of him. You’d get it out of him one day, though. You knew it. He’d succumb to the openness the bond demanded eventually, just as you are.

"That’s sort of a shame," you eventually said. "Being apart of a wedding could be fun."

Druig hummed in agreement but never responded verbally. However, you could feel his eyes trained on you as you went back to making your blanket.

A few moments later, he dismissed himself, citing a need to check on how lunch was coming along. It was only then that you realized your hands were shaking.

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