➳ Leona Kingscholar x GN!reader headcanons
➳ A/N:: last time I wrote a fanfic was 6 years ago so it might be wonky
➳ summary:: when he doesn't wanna let go just yet
➳ warnings:: n/a
"Leona"
"No"
"I need to go study"
'"I don't care"
"I will literally fail"
"Not my problem herbivore"
You sighed. What your boyfriend didn't understand was that not everyone could afford to fail as not all of us were rich royalty. There was no point of arguing back though since nothing could make him budge. You could've just walked away, but you knew that Leona would simply turn his back away and sleep and then ignore you for a week. You simply shook your head before plopping down beside him. He pulled you closer to him, tightening his grip on your body and laying his head on your chest.
"You're lucky I love you," you grimaced. He scoffed, "yeah yeah whatever now go to sleep." Slowly, you started drifting off, but Leona simply observed your sleeping figure. He though about how after evrything, you still deciede to stay with him. Even after his overblot you still loved him. To you he was Leona, not the prince, not the lazy second-born but himself. He saw how he truly was like and decided to stay by his side. Never once have you shown proper distaste towards his actions or attitude. He smiled to himself, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he began to fall asleep. Perhaps he was lucky.
summary: your neighbour natasha gets your mail when you’re not home, and one day a particularly interesting package arrives at her home.
warnings: Amazon delivery drivers (yes they have their own warning, cause they’re assholes), degradation, daddy kink, pet names (detka, good girl, sweet girl), cum-filled strap, dumbification, sort of innocence kink? but like not really, a tiny bit of overstim at the end | Minors DNI
word count: 2.5k
a/n: this was inspired by a post by @onmykneesforwanda. I….I tried my best. This is the first piece of smut I’ve published so none of you can hate on me if it’s bad.
masterlist
Amazon delivery drivers were assholes. That’s all you could think of as you stormed out your front door.
Despite leaving very clear instructions on the website every time to leave the package in your recycling bin at the side of your house, they always ignored it and instead left your packages with one of your neighbours.
Sometimes you wondered if they were all in cahoots and did it just to piss you off.
Sometimes it was alright because the delivery guy would leave it with your neighbour to the right, an old lady who you didn’t really see ever leave her house. She was always annoyed when you knocked on her door, but her anger was directed at the drivers and not at you, so talking to her wasn’t all bad. You at least both shared a hatred for Amazon.
The problem was when they left your mail with your neighbour to the left.
Natasha Romanoff. A Russian immigrant who moved here when she was a kid.
The redheaded woman wasn’t horrible to you. Anything but. It was the fact that you were insanely attracted to her which made it nearly imposible to knock on her door.
The Russian worked for some tech company up in the city, but she was more the brawn than the brains. As far as you could figure out from what she told you, her main job was to protect Tony Stark, the billionaire philanthropist who ran the company. But given that Stark had about a million different security guards, that gave Natasha plenty of free time to drive you to madness.
You stalked up Natasha’s driveway, catching a glimpse of her through the living room window.
You jogged up the front steps, realising you had no idea how you were going to get past your blushing to ask for the package as you rang the doorbell, and a second later Natasha was opening the door, a sight which made your breathe catch.
The redhead was wearing a tank top, her strong muscles rippling from where the fabric cut off on her broad shoulders, a braid flipped over the side of one of them. She seemed so relaxed, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and smirking at you. That god damn smirk. It would be a miracle if you didn’t faint or just outright drop dead before even asking for your mail.
“I think these delivery drivers are doing it on purpose now.” Natasha joked, although you barely heard what she was saying as you tried to focus on anything other than her biceps flexing.
“Yeah…it’s getting really inconvenient.” You laughed awkwardly, pulling at the end of your dress to give yourself something to do as you tried to distract yourself from the way her shirt rode up her abs when she reached to scratch the back of her head.
“Why don’t you come in and I’ll give you your package?” Natasha suggested, nodding into the house as she pushed herself away from the door, stepping aside to allow you to walk in.
You nodded, sliding past Natasha and into the front hall. The setup of her house was pretty similar to yours, just on opposite sides. There was a tall staircase leading to the second floor, pictures of Natasha’s friends and family lining the way up, her living room just off the the left of it, which Natasha led you into.
“So…where’s my mail?” You asked awkwardly, cringing at your slightly impatient tone as Natasha plopped herself down on the couch, manspread.
You were careful with your words when you asked, avoiding Natasha’s use of the word package, which she used intentionally, unbeknownst to you.
You weren’t one to normally buy sex toys, especially not on Amazon of all places. The strap on that was sitting in a box somewhere in Natasha’s house was an impulse buy, which you were embarrassed to admit was bought after you saw her working out in her garage on your way home from work a week ago, the door left wide open as she lifted weights, sweat glistening on her arms and forehead.
The smirk never left Natasha’s face as she stared up at you, leaning back comfortably with a cocky look on her face.
“Come and get it.” She told you, patting her thigh, and your eyes widened as you spotted the slight bulge in her sweats.
She was wearing your fucking strap.
You suddenly felt like you were in a bad porno with an even worse title to match. A blush stained your cheeks as you continued to stare at the print in Natasha’s sweats, something which didn’t escape her notice and only fuelled her arrogance.
“Come on, detka.” Natasha coaxed you towards her, leaning forward to grab your hand and pulled you into her lap. You ground your teeth together as you felt the tip of the strap grind against your clothed cunt, cursing yourself for wearing a dress since you didn’t have the thickness of jeans to help you maintain at least some of your dignity.
Natasha’s fingers wound themselves in your hair, tugging your head to the side to expose your neck, which her lips immediately began ghosting along, sending shivers up your spine as she pressed light kisses to your throat, “Let me make you feel good.”
Somewhere within the haze that clouded your head, common sense broke through. You started shaking your head as Natasha began sucking deep purple marks into your skin, although you made no attempt to push her away.
“We can’t do this. It isn’t right.” You told her. Natasha sighed as she stopped sucking on your skin, instead running her lips up and down the column of your throat.
“Why?” She asked, pressing kisses under your jaw after every other word, “We’re both single. Nobody else is here. And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you watch me when I work out, sweet girl. You can pretend to act innocent all you want, but now I really know just how much of a little slut you are.”
Her words made heat pool in your lower belly and you had to bite your lip to stifle a whimper as you discreetly tried to grind down on the strap, which of course Natasha noticed.
“Look at you.” She chuckled, suddenly grabbing your hips and forcing you to fully push against the strap. You had to bite your lip even harder, to the point of almost breaking the skin, to stifle a whine as you gripped at her shoulders for support, “Come on, detka. Grind against my cock like a good girl.”
The name, along with Natasha’s firm grip on your hips and the feeling of grinding down on her, almost made you loose control, burying your face in the crook of Natasha’s neck to try and hide your flushed cheeks.
“Aw, don’t go all shy on me now, sweet girl.” Natasha cooed, and in a second you found yourself being pulled to your feet and your front was bent over the arm of the sofa, ass in the air.
“You look so pretty like this.” Natasha said as she pushed up the skirt of your dress, leaving your bare ass on display for her, your thin cotton panties being the only thing now covering your centre.
You were eventually unable to mute your noises as Natasha began grinding the strap into your ass, a guttural moan leaving you at the action.
“Come on, tell me what you want, pretty girl.” Natasha encouraged as she cupped your sex, her fingers just barely touching where you needed them most.
“Please.” You begged, your resolve finally breaking as you tried to roll your hips against Natasha’s fingers, “Please, Natasha. I want you to fuck me.”
Natasha’s hand gripped your chin, forcing your head around to look her in the eyes.
“Do you have a safe word, detka?” She asked softly, her concern melting your heart a little bit.
“Yes. Red for stop, yellow to slow down.” You nodded as much as Natasha’s vice grip allowed you to.
“Good girl.” Natasha praised you, immediately settling back into her dominant demeanour, releasing your chin and sliding your underwear to the side before suddenly plunging two fingers into your pussy.
“Daddy!” You cried out suddenly, the title even making Natasha faulted for a second before a smirk plastered across her face.
“You like this, baby?” She asked, her thumb moving to lightly play with your clit and her fingers moved in and out of you, “You like being a good whore for daddy?”
You nodded your head eagerly, a mixture of whines and moans leaving your lips as you begged Natasha for more. What she was giving you was just barely enough.
“Use your words.” Natasha commanded, removing her fingers from your core when you failed to answer her out loud, pulling away from you completely.
“Yes daddy, I like being your whore.” You quickly reconciled, huffing in annoyance when Natasha didn’t start touching you again.
“Getting impatient, detka?” Natasha teased you, chuckling at your small huffs and whines.
Natasha reached out towards your hip, hooking two fingers around the waistband of your white cotton panties and pulled them slowly down your legs, letting them pool at your feet.
“So wet for me and I’ve barely even fucked you yet.” Natasha taunted, grazing your slit to collect the wetness that had begun to spread onto your thighs, “You’ve been so good for me. I think you’re ready now.”
Confusion clouded your brain at her words until you felt the tip of her strap rest against your entrance and you caught a glimpse of Natasha’s sweatpants being kicked away in the corner of your eye.
“You want my dick inside you, baby? You want me to fill you up with my cock?”
“Yes please, daddy.” You moaned, embarrassment flooding your body at how needy you sounded, “Please fuck me hard with your cock.”
“Aw, such good manners.” Natasha told you, and you preened at the praise, “You’ve been so good for me, such a good slut. You deserve a reward.”
A second later Natasha was sliding the fake cock into your dripping cunt and you practically screamed in pleasure as she bottomed out inside you, the redheads teasing until that point having made you drip down your thighs.
Natasha pounded the strap into you, setting a brutal pace that had you moaning so loudly you were sure the neighbours could hear, although you were too far gone to care as you rutted back against her.
“God, who would’ve thought innocent y/n would turn out to be such a desperate little bitch?” Natasha grunted, “Look at you. Your desperate pussy is practically sucking in my cock.”
“Fuck! Faster, please!” You babbled, Natasha smirking down at you. She complied, her thrusts picking up in pace as she fucked into you, moaning herself at the view of you writhing beneath her and the strap rubbing against her clit.
“Such an eager little cockslut.”
Your pathetic moans mixed with the sound of skin slapping together as Natasha continued to mercilessly degrade you. The strap hit the perfect spot in the back of your pussy every time, drawing out loud and deep moans from you.
The sofa began to shake as Natasha pounded into you with force, and you found yourself quickly reaching your climax as the coil in your stomach tightened.
“Daddy!” You moaned as Natasha reached around you to start rubbing harsh circles on your clit, the other resting on your hip to give her leverage, helping her reach an impossibly deeper angle in you.
“What do you need, detka?”
“Wanna cum, please!” You pleaded, your words slurred from pleasure.
“Yeah? You close, baby? Wanna cum on my cock?” Natasha asked as her strap continued to slosh in an out of your cunt.
You nodded fervently, incoherently begging for release in between wanton moans and cries of pleasure. You couldn’t even understand what you were saying, but by some miracle Natasha understood your mindless cries.
“Cum for me, slut. Cum all over your daddy’s cock.”
At those words your orgasm hit you, your vision blurring slightly as you came the hardest you had in a long time. Your knees buckled under your weight, and if it wasn’t for Natasha standing closely behind you with her hand on your hip you would have slid down the back of the couch.
You whimpered as Natasha continued to fuck her strap into you even after you had came down from your high. You attempted to move it out of you, but Natasha’s iron grip kept you bent over the arm of the couch.
“Too much, daddy.” You complained, wiggling your hips to try and shimmy away from her, only resulting in eliciting a groan from the redhead.
“Come on, detka. You can take a little more, can’t you? Take some more and let me cum in you.” Natasha swayed you, and you nodded in agreement, allowing the Russian to continue pounding into you.
“Gonna make daddy come so hard in you, dorogoy. You make the perfect little cumslut.” Natasha’s words reminded you that the strap you had ordered was a cum-filled one, spurring on your arousal as you felt a fire ignite itself in your belly again.
“Daddy.” You whined pitifully, squirming against Natasha as her breathes came out laboured.
“You already close again? God, such a fucking slut.” She chuckled, smacking your ass as her hips began to stutter and you knew she wasn’t far from the edge.
“Cum in me, daddy. Please. Need it so bad.”
A moan rumbled from Natasha’s throat at your begging, the redhead tilting her head back in pure ecstasy.
“Such a good little cumdump.” Natasha groaned, and almost immediately you felt the load of fake cum being shot into you, the feeling in your oversensitive pussy almost making you weep as you fell over the edge again, the pleasure overwhelming.
You hardly registered it when Natasha pulled out of you, a trail of your juices mixed with the fake cum leaving a trail connecting the strap to your pussy.
Natasha stepped out of the harness, throwing it, and the dildo, on top of her sweatpants a few feet away. She lifted you up by your waist, your short dress falling back over the curve of your ass as Natasha carried you back around to the side of the couch, laying down before placing you over her chest.
“Did you enjoy that, baby?” She asked as she stroked your hair, sleep already tugging at you.
“Mhmm.” You hummed along with some slurred babbling, your mind too scrambled to even come up with one coherent thought, causing Natasha to laugh.
“Aw, sweet thing. Have I fucked you dumb? Not one thought in that pretty little head?” You didn’t take notice of Natasha’s dark, almost possessive tone as you buried yourself further into her, seeking her warmth, “Don’t worry, detka. You can just be my pretty whore. You’re just a stupid slut who needs to be fucked dumb by her daddy, huh?”
Unable to even form the words to agree or disagree, you just clung to Natasha even tighter as sleep finally took you and Natasha smirked down at you triumphantly.
And now that she had you, there was no way she was ever going to let you go.
NEVER GONNA LET YOU (GO) || E || 1,987 || CW: public(ish) dry handjob
when eddie said that this would be their best date yet, steve didn't know what to expect, they had been to some nice restaurants in the seven months they had been official. steve's personal favorite date night was the night eddie had been served too much to drink at a bar and couldn't believe that he was dating steve.
truly, steve didn't expect too much from eddie - he didn't expect much from anybody. he was simply wired that way. his nonchalance was what kept steve's feelings from getting hurt after years of being let down (not so) gently.
granted, there was something different about eddie. there was something that made steve feel safe in a way that he couldn't exactly explain. no previous partner had made steve feel safe before and it was a feeling he could get used to.
here they were in the car, eddie driving and drumming along to the music coming from the radio against the steering wheel, focused on the road in front of them. steve had no clue where they were going and even if he asked, he was met with it's a surprise and you'll see when we get there. it was driving steve insane. when the car finally stopped, steve looked around. there was nothing.
"what, did you take me out here to kill me?" he joked, a halfhearted laugh leaving his mouth.
"oh, shut up," steve didn't even need to look at eddie to know he was smiling. the sticky sweet tone was in his voice.
eddie got out of the car after he'd turned it off, going immediately to the trunk where he had stashed away something steve hadn't seen before they left. he just told steve they were "secret supplies" and told him to mind his own business. steve got out of the car and stretched his arms up in the air, awaiting instructions from the other man. this was his date night and steve wasn't going to make any wrong moves.
"follow me," eddie said, holding his hand out to steve which he accepted graciously. he laced their fingers together and steve thought it was the tightest eddie had ever held his hand.
he couldn't see what eddie had packed in his canvas bag, but he could hear glasses clinking around as they walked through the uneven forest. they walked for what felt like ages through the woods - eddie was shit at holding the flashlight still, so steve took that duty over quickly.
"you're making me seasick," he joked, holding the flashlight steady on their walking path.
finally after a while, eddie stopped steve. he dropped his hand and moved to stand in front of him, a hand on each of his shoulders. "wait here while i set everything up."
eddie disappeared through the brush, leaving steve alone without a flashlight. steve wondered how often he'd been here or if eddie had even ever been where here was before as he watched the faint light of the flashlight bounce around while eddie set up. it was then, without the illumination of the flashlight, that steve noticed just how clear of a night it was. he looked up, noticing that the moon was full and that there wasn't a cloud in the sky. the light from the moon was enough to light up the woods around him.
when eddie returned, he had an even bigger grin on his face than before, motioning for steve to follow him. as they emerged from the thick brush, a field appeared in front of them; it was then that he noticed the blanket laid down with lanterns surrounding it, set up just for the two of them. there was a cooler set in the middle of the basket and even a bottle of wine set out alongside two glasses.
"eddie," steve started on an exhale, a bright grin across his face. "all of this? for me?" he couldn't believe his eyes. of course, when he didn't know what to expect, he wasn't expecting a full-on picnic stargazing date.
"i even bribed your mom into helping me make your favorite dish if you get hungry," eddie said, taking a seat on the picnic blanket. he patted the spot next to him, wanting steve to sit as well. the smile on his face was bright enough to rival the moon's beams.
"eddie," steve sighed, turning the flashlight off after he sat and wrapping his arms around eddie in a big hug. "you didn't have to go through all this trouble just for me."
"it isn't trouble if you're doing it for somebody who means the world to you."
eddie made quick work of pouring them both a glass of steve's favorite shitty, cheap wine and handed steve his glass after playfully stealing a sip from it. "had to make sure it wasn't poisoned," he teased.
steve sipped his wine before tilting his head up towards the sky, marveling again at the stars and the lack of light pollution around them. it was so clear he could see multiple different constellations. "that's the big dipper," he said, pointing straight up above them. "and over there?" he moved where he was pointing. "that's orion's belt."
"i didn't know you cared so much about the stars," eddie lied, reaching out to wrap his arm around steve's shoulder as he looked up. he'd always seen the way steve watched the sky on clear nights when they'd spend time on his roof late at night.
eddie positioned his body just right so that he could pull steve close to him. he adjusted his body so that steve was sitting between his legs, back to his chest. he liked sitting like this and he enjoyed the closeness. steve tilted his head back again, the back of his head resting on eddie's shoulder for support as he looked up at the stars once more.
eddie wrapped his arms around steve's waist, enjoying the closeness between them. he slipped a hand under steve's shirt, brushing his fingertips up and down steve's side just to make him squirm just the littlest bit. he could feel the goosebumps rising. steve's head was tilted back, the back of his head resting on eddie's shoulder as he watched the sky closely just in case he saw a shooting star. after a little while of silence and when both of their glasses of wine were gone, eddie tightened his grip on steve.
eddie's fingers gripped steve's sides, holding him closer to his body. he could hear steve's breath hitch in his throat when he skimmed his fingers from steve's side to his stomach where he hesitated for just a moment before turning his head to kiss steve's temple. he slid his hand down from steve's stomach to the waistband of steve's jeans, pulling at the button but not hard enough to pop it open.
there wasn't a soul around which gave eddie the wicked idea in the first place. maybe the glass of wine went straight to his head or maybe it was just steve. he slid his hand further down, stopping when his palm met steve's bulge in his jeans. when he pressed down, his pressure was met by steve's hips arching up into his touch.
"that's it," he murmured in steve's ear, letting steve grind his hips up into his stilled hand. the whine that left steve's lips was a little obscene, but left eddie wanting to hear more.
his hand pressed down on steve's cock through his jeans while his free hand moved up to rub over steve's left nipple, twisting and pinching to elicit groans and whines from steve's mouth. eddie took his hand from steve's crotch, making quick work of the zipper and button of his jeans. he pulled the material as open as he could with one hand, his other busy scratching red marks into steve's pale chest.
"should we be doing this?" steve didn't actually sound too concerned about the situation, too focused on the electricity in eddie's touches to his skin.
eddie shushed him with a whisper in his ear, "nobody can hear you out here." steve shivered in response to the whisper, paired with eddie's teeth grazing the shell of his ear.
eddie was back to palming steve, this time through his boxers. he could feel steve getting hard beneath his palm, accompanied by steve's desperate hip rocking in an attempt to get more friction.
"easy, big boy," eddie cooed into his ear, his free hand gripping tightly at his side now. steve was sure he was going to end up with fingertip-shaped bruises, which he didn't mind. his grip tightened, voice turning gruff, "stay still, let me do all the work," he ordered.
just like that, steve's hips abruptly stopped, leaving eddie to press down just a little bit harder on his cock. while his nails dug into steve's side, earning another whine, he pulled steve's cock from the split in his boxers.
"fuck," steve whined, turning to press desperate kisses along eddie's jaw and anywhere he could reach from his position between eddie's legs.
"i've got you," eddie soothed, sliding his hand into the slit of steve's boxers and pulling out his cock. his thumb slid over the tip of steve's cock, working steve's nerves as he drew out what steve truly wanted.
when eddie finally decided that steve had had enough torture, he wrapped his hand around the base of steve's cock and gave him a teasing squeeze causing steve's hips to jerk forward involuntarily. he was putty in eddie's hands.
"please," was all eddie needed to hear from steve's lips.
eddie moved his hand up to steve's nipple again, squeezing it harder this time which caused steve to whimper in response, doing his best to be good and keep his hips still. the hand on steve's cock slowly started working up and down to draw out steve's whines. eddie was getting drunk off of the noises steve was making, he couldn't help himself when he tightened his grip just the littlest bit, speeding up his hand.
"that's it," he hummed, watching steve's face the best he could as he moved his hand to play with his other nipple.
his hand still moved on steve's cock, speeding up just a little bit more now. while he didn't do a good job of keeping his hands to himself ever, he also didn't want to ruin the dinner he'd packed for the two of them that was sitting in the picnic basket to the side of them.
"fuck," steve gasped, chewing at his bottom lip. he moved a hand to the back of eddie's hair and tangled his fingers in it, tugging.
"think you can cum like this," eddie groaned, mouthing at steve's jaw again. "cum for me."
steve nodded and took a deep breath, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he focused all of his energy on eddie's request. over the months they'd been together, eddie had gotten good at controlling steve's orgasms, but steve hadn't been tested like this before. hadn't been asked to cum so soon.
he broke eddie's request to stay still, not even thinking about the consequences that would come later, he was too focused on eddie's newest request. finally, he came with a loud whine, his hips jerking as he writhed in eddie's arms.
"there you go," he cooed. "good boy." eddie smirked and held his hand up in front of steve's mouth, "go ahead, clean me up," he ordered.
once steve was finished, eddie moved steve into his lap, letting the other man rest his head on his shoulder as he held him tight. he then started to repeat affirmations on the top of his head.
"i love you," eddie breathed out before freezing. neither of them had said those three words yet and he wasn't sure if steve even felt the same.
HEHEHE i have a feeeew to answer these two with so i'll add em in
sunshine: a snippet where your characters are having fun outdoors
silly whoopsverse folklore/small town au
It was a few weeks later that it happened. Vas was hanging out with Cris and Jay, skipping rocks over a stream and shoving each other near the water, when Jay brought it up.
“Let’s sneak into the farmhouse,” he said, out of nowhere. Cris shot straight up from where she’d been leant over the water, sputtering.
“Why the heck would we do that?” she scoffed, flicking ice-cold water at Jay. He ducked out of the way, sticking his tongue out at her. Vas reclined against the rock she was sitting on.
“Everybody’s always telling us to stay out, but I want to see what the big deal is, myself!” Jay plopped down onto the muddy stream banks, kicking his feet out into the water. “It can’t be that scary.”
Vas thought back to the way the woman’s gaze had almost pinned her in place, and shivered.
“What would we get out of it, even?” Cris groaned, brushing her muddy hands off on her knees. Her knees were also muddy, so it didn’t do much.
“I dunno, curiosity?”
“It killed the cat,” Cris chimed.
“Satisfaction brought it back,” Vas finished, shrugging. She shielded her eyes against the bright autumn sun. “Maybe if we go, we can finally put an end to our bet, yeah, Cris?”
There was a pause. Cris blinked, but Vas could see her resolve crumbling just as much as hers was. “You can’t seriously be considering going.”
“Come on, Cris, don’t be a wimp,” Jay goaded. “Vas is in, I’m in, are you in?”
Vas didn’t know why she wanted to go so badly. By all accounts, she should really have been frightened out of her mind like all the other people in Sunfell. It was just… There was something about the way the lady held herself. She seemed so…calm.
Cris looked between Jay and Vas, dismay clear on her face. Eventually she groaned, throwing her hands in the air in defeat. Jay cheered, and Vas smiled.
“Fine,” she grumbled, climbing out of the stream and shaking the excess water off her legs. “But I have to be home before dark, or Mum’s gonna kill me.”
and also
toh oc potion shenanigans
Sol crossed her arms smugly, waiting for the potion to take effect. Seriously, the potion was his idea. Sure, it had been an off-hand comment about beastkeeping magic and potions and wanting to pet a fox, but it was still his idea! He didn't have to be so skittish about it.
"Is it… working?" he asked, looking uncharacteristically nervous. She was about to reply when the bushes rustled nearby. Both of them froze, waiting with bated breath as a small nose poked out of the foliage.
From the red leaves emerged a beautiful little auburn fox. It trotted right up to Goldie and sniffed at his boots. He squeaked, then crouched down, cautiously extending a gloved hand.
"H-hey, buddy," he whispered. The fox sniffed at his fingertips, now. Apparently it deemed them worthy of affection, because it started licking them. Goldie giggled. Giggled! Oh, Solstice would hold this over him forever.
Another set of bushes rustled. Both of them nearly broke their necks with how fast they snapped their heads around to look at it. Out came another fox, who joined its brethren at Goldie's boots.
"Oh, hi," he cooed, clearly taken with the creatures. Sol's brow furrowed. She hadn't thought the potion was long-lasting enough to attract two animals… They must have been close by.
But then the bushes rustled again. This time, only Sol turned to look at it. Out crawled a…tortoise? It slowly shuffled through the grass to bump its face into Goldie's heel.
Okay. Weird. But surely there couldn't be that many animals hiding in this corner of the woods… right?
The bushes rustled. Solstice, you fool. Even GG looked up, this time. He looked nervous again.
"Sol? How many animals is this supposed to bring here?"
She didn't answer, staring in dread at the trees around them. She hadn't noticed it until just now, but about 50 birds had settled silently on the branches surrounding the clearing. One brave soul fluttered down to perch on GG's shoulder, and then another, and then another. Soon, he was swarmed by birds. And there were fiendcats and crawling boas and king deer entering the clearing, too. Before long she couldn't see or hear Goldie past the sheer mass of wildlife burying him.
warmth: a snippet that gives you the warm fuzzies
keepska wingswap au
It doesn’t stop happening. Every time they’re in a room together, one of Kiska’s wings finds its way over to him, like a fleshy feathered blanket. Or an umbrella. Or-- Well, frankly, there’s just not a good metaphor for it. He’ll say it like it is: Kiska’s sheltering him under her wing like a fretting mother bird, and he’s pretty sure she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.
It’s not like it’s a bad thing. Honestly, Keeper finds it hilarious. Birdbrain, he thinks to himself, in a tone of voice he refuses to admit is unbearably fond. Beyond that, though, it’s…comforting. It really is, in a way he can’t quite put a name to. Even when the wing doesn’t physically rest on his shoulders, having it cupped around him, warming, protecting-- It’s nice.
It’s better when it does drape over him, though. Take right now: Kiska has taken it upon herself to disturb his work, and that means she’s pressed up against his side while he sits and tries and fails to write an account of a farmer who invented a new species of wheat. He fails in large part because Kiska has her wings wrapped fully around him, and not only are they getting in the way of his movements, they’re also highly distracting. They’re warm, and they feel heavy and comforting, like the softest weighted blanket you could ever imagine. Mostly, though, they’re distracting because it’s Kiska, with her cheek smooshed onto his shoulder and her wings wrapped around him securely, like protection, like a claim. He puts his pen down and allows himself the indulgence of carding a hand through the feathers. She hums and burrows further against him, her wings flexing around his like a hug.
He ends up falling asleep there, nodding off until his temple is pressed against the crown of Kiska’s head, with the rest of him comfortably nestled in her wings.
ways to say i love you number 35: as a goodbye 💕(platonic)
this is a part of the 35 ways to say "i love you" writing collection. check out the rest!
PREVIEW/SYNOPSIS:
"At the present moment, noise is the ever-slowing drip of his son’s blood onto the ground as it sieves through Phil’s trembling fingers.
If Phil had not been holding the body of his dead son, he would be thinking about all of this." (or, the cycle of tragedy as told by a man experiencing it himself for the first time)
content warnings: depictions of war and violence, blood, death/ corpse, grief
There is a rock on the ground that looks like a broken heart. This, if you are as old as he is, is the first clue of a tragedy.
People always describe wars as large, sweeping events, numbers and heroes and bloodshed and tears. But when Phil remembers the wars he has fought, he remembers very little of those things. What he does remember: a child with only one shoe, trying to tie their shoelace for some semblance of normalcy; bakers handing out fire-resistant gloves to rescue workers, to help sort through charred rubble; a man tearfully volunteering his life’s worth of intricately woven blankets and scarves as burial shrouds. Right now, there are many small rocks shattered into frightful existence by the explosions, but only one of them looks like a broken heart.
There are still explosions echoing around in his ears as stray bits of gunpowder light below him. There are enough screams that poets might have called it a chorus, but he knows better. There is no poetry for screaming. Noise is another clue of a tragedy.
Sound never truly stops-- as true as it is that you will never hear true silence in nature, you will never hear true silence during destruction. After the first round of noise-- whether it be a single arrow whistling through the wind, a blade unsheathed, or a thump, those young enough to be naive will recall a vacuum of noise, the winds’ howls paused as the world collapses around them. But the winds do not stop for the end of the world, and those as weathered as Phil know that noise never truly stops. Noise is this: waves lapping at the shore of new rubble, groans of pain that no one remembers making, then the screams that they do; noise is reaction, and action, and inaction, and it is always making and being made, even when life ends. At the present moment, noise is the ever-slowing drip of his son’s blood onto the ground as it sieves through Phil’s trembling fingers.
If Phil had not been holding the body of his dead son, he would be thinking about all of this. He was well versed in tragedy-- some civilizations even cited him as the birth of it. How ironic that he used to brush them off. Tragedy is inevitable, he would say to those who asked. I am simply passing by. But right now, for the first time in his life, he agreed. Tragedy was a cycle. A cycle that he was cradling in his arms, a cycle that he watched be born, take its first steps, write its first song. A tragedy that built mini-cities and tore them down, that smiled every time it saw a songbird, a tragedy who laughed when its father dropped its birthday cake instead of crying. A tragedy that was open windows and fresh breezes, and a serious look in its face as it learned how to play a song. Phil had never felt so ancient as he did, watching the cycle of a tragedy from birth to death, never felt more deserving of the title of God many had tried to conceive him as. This was a Godhood so human and tainted that he could never have imagined it, so innate that it was laughable he hadn’t seen it before.
Grief, he thought, that is another clue of a tragedy.
His head whipped around as a new kind of explosion started, and the skies darkened as undead monsters grew their sinews out of soil and bone and soul. Silence never lasted in tragedy, nor was there any time for it. He gently set down the burned and torn thing that is-- was?-- his son, but not before kissing its head so folly it could have been a brush from one of his many feathers.
“I love you.” He said before leaving, understanding at last the last clue of a tragedy.
A belated Halloween drabble, Best Friends Frankenstein au
A/N: This is uuuuuuh not a full return to writing? More of a "Hey look! I'm not dead!" Hoping to start writing more again soon (hospital trips be dammned!!)
"To be friendless is indeed to be unfortunate, but the hearts of men, when unprejudiced by any obvious self-interest, are full of brotherly love and charity." - Chapter 15, Frankenstein
Chuck wonders if he knows it, past the stitches and scabbing, how beautiful he is. How horrifyingly beautiful he is, burning cold starlight against the walls of the darkened laboratory.
He walks past Orange, horror plastering himself as far away from their creation as possible splayed out on the ground, past Kris' still terror, past Trent's hollow pleas to Stay Away, and reaches out to the young man in front of him. Wheeler, remade and wholly the same and totally changed, flinches. Stares at Chuck for a heart pounding moment in complete animal fear, he can't tell if it's an unrecognizing gaze or one that remembers Too Much of how he got here.
Chuck's eyes water as unbidden tears well past the stone levee of his heart, he reaches out again to the brilliant light before him. It seeps from Wheeler's pores, his eyes, his mouth as it opens to scream? Speak? Chuck doesn't know, just like the dozens of times before, as Wheeler's voice is nearly heard the light dims. Snuffed out. Again.
A body heavy thud reverberates in the lab, and the lights flicker back on.
"Kris... How long this time?" Tired anguish is impossible for Chuck to hide in the seconds after, has been since he started this.
"Two minutes." Her voice scrapes out raw and tight.
"Progress. 5 seconds of progress. More than we've made in months." He says gingerly moving Wheeler back onto the table proper, ignoring the silence of the room. It's quickly broken by Orange's baffled, huffing voice.
"Has he ever-"
"No. No he's never said anything." Kris interrupts, urgent as if begging Orange not to drag this out more than it already has been.
"We don't know if he ever will. I don't think he ever will." Trent's shaking voice just as resigned and angry as he looks.
Chuck's teeth grind, knuckles whitening as he grabs the white sheet to cover their boy and inter him back to the refrigerator. They're wrong, they're wrong.
Hello everyone, Briar here. I’m starting off October by writing some Inktober prompts. The list I’m using is from @theamberalice so go check out their list if you’re curious.
Look forward to more tomorrow everyone!
Shining blue eyes flit across the empty stage, remembering a time when it was full of life and wonder. A small smile came to their face and they took a seat in the very front row of the old, rundown theater. The old plush seats covered in dust, velvet curtains torn and tattered on the stage, and cobwebs hung down, but it still felt like home.
Closing their eyes, they began reminiscing to when they last stood on the stage. When they called upon magic with a flourish of their hands and a dazzling smile on their face. The hot lights beating down on them, as they had to move around the stage. But, it was all worth it to hear the applause and cheering at the end of each show.
The smile grew wider as they remembered the people they met throughout their career. The dancers, the animal handlers, and of course their wonderful assistant. She had been a bright, curious young lady who wanted to learn everything they had to offer.
However, like with many things in life, it didn’t last. There wasn’t any big shocking reason as to why they were no longer a magician, they just wanted to retire and live a quiet life after all of the excitement in it. They didn’t regret their decision, it had been good. They got married, had two wonderful children, and grandchildren on the way.
A calm and gentle hand was placed on their shoulder, and a soft voice called out to them, “Hey, mom, are you ready to go?”
“Hmm, oh, yes of course dear. I guess I got carried away by my memories.” blue eyes closed as she smiled. “You know, I can’t wait to see what you do with this old place, sweetie. I know that it's in good hands now.”
As they left the theater, the old woman turned around one last time, and there on stage was a young magician. Her eyes a shining blue, long chestnut hair pulled back, and a bright smile on her face. She waved before fading away, and the old woman chuckled to herself. Perhaps it was time to start teaching a new generation of magicians.
