first encounter (n.)

/fəːst / inˈkaʊn.tər / first en·​coun·​ter ───────────────────────── as in reunion, searching, again

[angelesca]

call me angie for short! | 20+ | she/her | attempting at hobbies😂😂❁

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[angelesca]

HIIII CONGRATS ON 500 FOLLOWERS!!! i'm so happy for you!!!!! you deserve it, i love all your writing and art and silly posts (,,>ヮ<,,)!!!! may i please request a doodle or drawing of Truck Driver! Sunday as a loyal member of the Truck Driver! Sunday club? 🥹🥹

CULT MEMBER DIVINITY, 0' VENERABLE SUNDAY HAS HEARD YOUR PLEA AND BESTOWS THIS ART (of him getting tackled for no reason) UPON YE!! ₊·◟(˶╹̆ꇴ╹̆˵)◜‧･

petah

[yomoleen]

"As you wish, my lady…"

[tyuoui]

I'm sure he'll send more than just biceps...

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

the softness of home

pairing: ex-detective!ashveil x gn!detective!reader

genres: modern!au, domestic fluff, mild angst

word count: 1.5k

content/warnings: cuddling, mister n and co are dogs!, animal shelters, brief allusions to euthanization, volunteering, dog walking, flirting, i snuck in a murder she wrote reference ;)

notes: happy final planarcadia patch (for now at least)! This idea has been rotating in my mind for a couple months now, and I finally got to writing it. This fic was based on a lot of my experience volunteering at a local shelter, and my memories of catching late-night re-runs on cable :). All in all, this fic turned out really cute and silly, just like a certain detective... enjoy!

Read it on ao3!

Soft golden light brightened your curtains, muted birdsong greeting you as you stirred. Dark bedsheets tangled you to Ashveil’s side, the blanket’s tight hold nearly as comforting as his. Quiet snores filled your shared bedroom, your face tucked into his neck as you cuddled closer. His hand came to rest on the back of your head, fingers brushing through your unruly hair as he groaned awake.

His right hand patted around the nightstand, searching for his phone while he refused to open his eyes. They only squinted open once the dim screen came to life, quickly returning to where he found it. Your hand rose to twine with his, a kiss landing on your forehead.

“What time is it?”

“Seven-thirty.”

You grumbled, “Can you check mine?”

More scrambling and scratching sounded, “Nothing. You’re clear for the day.”

“Finally, a day off means an actual day off.”

Ashveil chuckled, the sound rolling like gentle thunder, “You could say that again.”

“Oh, please, you have nothing but now. Be glad they’re not calling you out anymore, much less for nights,” you yawned.

“They might as well be.”

“What do you mean?”

His bangs fell over his eyes as he turned to you, “I mean that I can’t sleep without you, especially knowing you’re out dealing with who knows what.”

You smiled, leaning in for a kiss, “My dramatic old wolf…”

Just as your lips were about to touch, his junior’s old K-9 jumped onto the bed. He stared at the two of you unimpressed, softly howling something similar to “Feed us.”

You laughed, leaning back into the former detective’s side.

“Five more minutes, Mister N!”

—

Barking and chatter echoed through the shelter lobby, Ashveil’s favorite place to spend his newfound free time. Here he could continue to help the community, taking care of furry little creatures without a home. After years of delivering proper justice to the people, it was time to find some for them.

You had tagged along plenty of times before, finding your own joy in the taxing work. It was heartbreaking at first, to walk through rows of kennels filled with sharp barks and whines. Some people stood reading their information, others sat on the floor, a book in hand as they tried to familiarize some of the dogs to their voice. You couldn’t help but feel even more demoralized when you happened upon one kennel, a small sign reading “Save My Life!” next to their info sheet.

Yet just as quickly as that sadness and dread came, it passed. You still had the power to do something, to help in any way you could, even if it was just giving them joyful last days.

After a day of cleaning kennels with Ashveil, you asked a simple question on the ride home, “What do you think about adopting another dog? Or fostering some at least? We have the space and money now.”

He didn’t waste a beat, “I was thinking the same thing.”

Soon your family grew, three new dogs steadily moving in with you. A fluffy chihuahua mix named Musician, a border collie named Poet, and a black labrador mix named Archer. Narrator accepted them quickly, managing each of their personalities with ease. He led their little pack, teaching them how best to tease Ashveil and help you. Once, they had cornered him in the kitchen, begging for treats as he stood firm. You couldn’t help but break into laughter, his “hard” demeanor melting as he gave in.

He smiled brighter with them in the home, one of his longtime wishes realized.

“Detectives! How’ve you two been?”

The older lady managing the front desk came from behind it, wrapping you both in a hug.

“We’ve been good,” you replied, watching her beam.

“That’s so great to hear! You deserve it for all you’ve done. Go ahead and sign in whenever you’d like and get back there!”

Ashveil tipped his hat, walking over to the check-in kiosk to put in your information.

“What do you want to do today?”

“Hmm… how about we take some of them for a walk around the lake?”

“Sounds perfect.”

~

Temperate breezes blew through the courtyard, three pathways branching out to different buildings. One housed cats, with the other two being split for small and large dogs. Adoption counselors sat in the gated play areas, watching and questioning potential owners as they played with their chosen pet.

Ashveil opened the door to the building for large dogs, standing aside with an exaggerated bow.

You took his empty hand, “Come on, you goof.”

Barking rattled your ears as you entered the kennels, heading straight to the service aisle. You put treats and supplies in your satchel, fetching two slip leashes before closing the curtain. Together you returned to the main walkways, searching for the most active and stressed dogs kenneled together.

A grey pitbull terrier jumped up against the walls, a yellow card beside her name. Whining in bed next to her was an Australian cattle dog, her brown eyes looking up at you pleadingly.

You softly called Ashveil over, “Let’s take these two out for a while.”

The pitbull terrier, Pebble, came over as soon as she saw your partner, sniffing his hand through the bars with a wagging tail. She walked back and forth, spinning around and coming back to lick his palm.

He laughed, “Alright, girl, I’ll get you.”

You went back to the main hallway, letting him open the kennel and slip the leash over her head. He tightened and secured it, locking the door and giving her some back scratches. Her body wiggled as he walked her over to you, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“I’ll see you outside.”

You left one on his, heading back over to greet Pebble’s kennelmate. Willow’s ears perked up as you knelt in front of the bars, letting her come and sniff your hand. Her tail swayed as her paw rose to hit against your palm and you couldn’t help but coo at her.

You copied Ashveil, shutting the kennel while Willow waited patiently. You opened the back door toward the lake and she brightened, walking faster to her friend. Pebble ran ahead of Ashveil as he jogged back and forth at the path’s beginning, helping her work out some of her stress and energy before your walk.

He panted as you came to meet them, “She’s giving me a run for my money.”

“Well, it’s not like you get any field work anymore.”

He laughed, his canines catching the light, “Is that a challenge?”

You already started walking backward along the path, smiling brightly, “Maybe.”

You turned, dirt crunching under your shoes as you took off running.

Willow kept up with your pace exceptionally well, likely reveling in the opportunity to stretch her legs. Wind rushed past your ears, the lake’s waves lapping against the shore. Birds chirped as fishers cast their lines, music sounding from their chairs as ducks quacked along.

You had to give the old wolf some credit – he was still able to keep up with you. His steps were fast, decipherable only to your familiar ear. A large birch tree provided shade ahead, the perfect place to give the dogs a quick break. You came to a stop, turning around with your hands up while Willow caught her breath. Ashveil sidled up to you, his hands reaching up to take yours and leave a kiss on your lips.

“Guess I’ve still got it.”

“Yes you do,” you smiled, pulling him in for another kiss.

He blushed and looked out to the lake, reaching into his pocket and leaning down to give Pebble a treat. You took two bottles of water and a collapsible bowl out of your satchel, handing one to Ashveil and pouring the other into the bowl for the dogs. They flocked to it, and he handed the bottle back to you, watching as you took a sip. You put everything back in your little bag, pouring the bowl out at the tree’s base.

Pebble and Willow sniffed each other’s faces, their tails wagging. You took Ashveil’s leash-less hand, ready to continue your walk.

—

Musician preened under Ashveil’s pets, your thumb rubbing the side of her neck as she reclined in your arms. His warmth encompassed you as you leaned back further into him, his other hand resting on your thigh. The television played quietly in the background, Angela Lansbury sighing and answering the phone. Archer and Poet fought over a rope toy, Narrator coming to sniff around the coffee table. Empty takeout containers were scattered across it, remnants of your dinner tempting him.

He found a full spring roll on one of your plates, slowly stealing it away as you snickered.

Ashveil followed your eyes, his own growing unimpressed, “You’re welcome.”

His chin landed on your shoulder as he played with Musician’s paws, gently squishing them between his fingers and booping the pads. You couldn’t help but smile, tilting your head to look at him. You placed a kiss on his temple, and an affectionate huff left his lips.

His steely eyes met yours as he whispered, “Thank you for giving me a home.”

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[twis-world]

Thinking about how Sunday would love tucking his head into your neck.

It made him feel safe and secure. Plus, it was a great spot to give small pecks and kisses when he was feeling particularly mischievous. It was his safe place.

However, there was the issue of his wings.

His beautiful wings were just too excitable for your liking. Sunday was a sensitive man, prone to getting overwhelmed by the slightest bit of emotion, including love.

It wasn't his fault! You were just too you! How was Sunday ever supposed to act when you let him so freely near such a vulnerable part of you? How you let him rain love upon you?

His wings would inevitably begin to flutter every. single. time. And every single time the feathers would brush against your neck and make you release a giggle or two. And god was it embarrassing for the Halovian. How could he, the previous head of the Oak family, be unable to control his own wings!

Yet, some selfish part of him relished in your laughter every time he wings began to flutter along your neck, tickling your senses and causing you to throw your head back in joy.

You know what, maybe his wings weren't so bad.

[knarchive]

Himeko Nova

[angelesca]

I NEED ENGLAND TO WIN TOMORROW😭😭😭😭I WILL WRITE AND DRAW PHAINON STRIPPING HIS CLOTHES OFF IF IT COMES HOME😭😭😭😭

[angelesca]

okay

[angelesca]

I NEED ENGLAND TO WIN TOMORROW😭😭😭😭I WILL WRITE AND DRAW PHAINON STRIPPING HIS CLOTHES OFF IF IT COMES HOME😭😭😭😭

[cerebralinvasion]

I really like the idea of Sunday’s tuning growing less and less effective the more often he uses it on you, but he really can’t help it.

He doesn’t want to constantly have to mess with your head. He doesn’t want to go through these lengths just to keep you placid. But you make things so difficult. And he understands your concerns, he really does, but how much energy can you spend hurting him and yourself— despite it changing nothing? If anything, his tuning is for your sake, even if you don’t see it that way.

But the more he has to reach inside of your head to push away some of those unpleasant thoughts, the more often he has to do it. What would at first be something he does every few weeks, slowly becomes every few days. You’re noticing inconsistencies and gaps in your memory faster and faster each time. The same pieces he’d notice you ruminating on for days suddenly take you a few hours to put together. Each time he gets less and less of a heads up on how much longer he has before you lash out all over.

He’s grown on edge, constantly worried now that something might tip you off again. He’s getting exhausted from constantly enacting the harmony to such intense degrees. But he just. can’t. stop.

He wants this to work out, he wants you to be happy. And maybe he’s a coward, but he doesn’t want to face that look of disdain, from you specifically, ever again. He keeps himself tethered to the idea that if he just gets it right this time everything can be fine again.

[greiilock]

[geuvreq]

Wip

[angelesca]

preganannente sunday pt.2 (◐▂◑)

[angelesca]

reposting a stoopid doodle doo based off by this art ft. cas & hya ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

flipped phai appreciation ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿he make my heavenly pillar rise ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

[angelesca]

i shall repost my recent drawing and see if it works this time;;;;; please dont brick my account tumblr what did yearner phai ever do to you ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿meow

[angelesca]

stoopid doodle doo based off this art i did ft. cas & hya ( ՞ਊ ՞)

flipped phai appreciation bc i almost risked it all

[angelesca]

just 33,550,336 more bdays to go!!! ᕦ〳 ⊙ ڡ ⊙ 〵ᕤ