#◤ .To You ◈ 2000 Years From Now. ◥ Drabbles

[erudianokabe]

Nat-san (@quiveringdeer) and I were talking about this scenario. So. As requested, I am posting this here. But this is seriously the first time I'm doing something like this, so I do hope I do this justice, and for whoever reads it to find some enjoyment in it.

Afternoon gets a bit boring when your husband wasn't around. But what can you do? You're new to this wife business and as much as you want to spend as much time as possible with him, you can't. How could you when he was a man of particular importance? The war was over, sure, but the army and the military weren't going away which meant that your husband— former Vice Chief, now appointed a rank higher— wasn't all yours for the taking.

Sometimes, you wonder who he was REALLY married to. Was he married to you, or was he married to Marley instead… with you being some mistress that he went home to so very late into the night; like you were the secret.

"Aren't you worried that he's spending too much time at the base? What if it's not work? What if someone has him intertwined around their little pinky?" A concerned friend asked you. It's not always that you ask her to drop by. After all, she was not from Marley. You could only ever ask Hitch to visit when she was in town AFTER she's done with her own series of work. You were just so lucky, weren't you? Every one of your friends just had to be from one form of military to the next. Still, you can't help but want the company. There were just some days when you felt a little lonely, a little frustrated even, when you know that Reiner won't be coming home early because Marley comes first.

It's not as if you don't understand why he does what he does either. Keeping Marley safe meant keeping you safe, and with those little details inserted into the equation, your husband was even more eager and zealous about Marley's stability as a nation. He no longer has the Armor, but that doesn't mean that he can no longer protect his homeland. He was a warrior and a soldier. He's equipped with enough knowledge, training, and experiences to make things work.

"That'd be easier to remedy if that's the case." You started, shrugging your shoulders whilst leaning back against the wooden chair. You threw your head back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. A small pout etching itself on your features.

"So, what you're saying is it's fine if he has a lover?" She continued to interrogate, her honeyed tone of voice taunting. A digit pressed itself upon your cheek and all you could do was swat away at Hitch's hand.

"Absolutely not. What I'm saying is, I don't even need to be worrying about others when I'm already losing to his duties as War Chief. And I'm telling you, Hitch, at the rate that Reiner's going, he won't have eyes for any other man or woman— me included." She could hear the frustration in your voice, and couldn't help but laugh a bit. Who knew that your man of choice would be Mr. Boring. That Reiner guy, the one who wrote Annie the dullest letters.

"He sounds as soul-crushingly boring as ever." She says, this time, taking hold of her cup to take a sip of the tea that you've prepared prior.

"It's not like that, he's just really busy. Besides," You reasoned, pausing a while as you folded your arms over your chest.

"Besides?" The curiosity took over your companion for a bit, mildly eager to hear what you had to say to defend your workaholic partner.

"Besides, it's not like I can strangle his paperwork. And if I shred them, he'll get mad at me…" Again. You noted; Hitch raising a brow at you, a silent way of asking if you've actually done it. Which you have; something that she picked up on when you looked away guilty as a criminal. It took a few seconds for the woman beside you to burst into a healthy fit of laughter. Oh the way she would have paid good money to see his reaction to that.

"It's not funny! He really got mad at me; you know!" And yet, the crimson that painted your cheeks hardly seemed like an indication of what's usually supposed to be disappointment. "Well, if he was really mad, how come you look so flustered, hmn~? Are you skimping out on some juicy tidbit? Come on, you can tell me~"

"I-I'm not. It's just that…"

And you trail off, murmuring unintelligible words as you try to force the memory back, and failing in the process.

You remembered it so clearly. Your husband's hulking frame before you, looking at you as if you were some sort of miscreant. The War Chief looked like he was waiting for something, an explanation that he couldn't wedge out of you because you were being childish. More or less however, he was aware of your crimes because he caught you red handed.

"Do you know what you've done?" His voice was stern, disappointment dripping from his mouth like venom from a viper's fang.

"I was getting rid of competition." You clicked your tongue then, arms folded, eyes cast to the side and pouting like a brat. You were a little younger than him, but he didn't expect you to act like a child. Granted that on most occasions, he found that charming, but this time was different. There was no reason for you to have ripped his documents to shreds. No matter what reason you had, that was something that you shouldn't have done; and an act that he couldn't exactly condone. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose, one hand massaging his temple. How was he even going to explain this to the brass? "I hope you know that those were logistics reports, maps to supply routes, as well as an analysis for the next mission. I can pretty much draft everything else, but how do you expect me to go to base tomorrow without those maps? You've gone a little too far with this one."

"Tell them your wife ate it." The spite that was seething from your lips made him furrow his brow. Perhaps it was his fault because he's been working nonstop lately, but he's explained this to you time and time again. He knows that you're smart, that you and him have an understanding, but this was just a little too much, even for you. And this bratty answer, you weren't 12 years old to be saying things like this.

"What are you? A dog?" He asked sarcastically, gathering new sheets of paper from his desk in order to draft new reports while there was still time. "With the way that you're being pretty difficult lately, I should eat you instead." A thoughtless remark, for sure.

"Do you even have the time to do that? You're so busy flirting with your work, that I think I prefer you taking whiffs of Historia's letters instead." You said, also rather thoughtlessly. This made him look up from his drafts. The stare he gave you was absolutely indignant. You were really doing this right now, weren't you?

"Hey, I stopped doing that a long while ago. Now, I only do that to your letters." Reiner attempted at a taunt, maybe that would get you to back down.

"You could be doing that to things other than letters, but of course, you don't have the time." Your answer definitely made him believe that this was all his fault. Him always letting this rebellious attitude of yours slide. A part of him found your jealousy for the mundane adorable, and he loved you for it, but sometimes you also really got on his nerves. And when you do, when you're visibly annoyed at him and making that face… pouting, it makes him want to forget what he's doing and indulge in you. Maybe play your game, put you in your place. Wreck you a bit.

"Are you really challenging me right now?" And when he thought about putting you in place, it was to remind you that you were his top priority even if he's showing it through this obsessive means of insuring you a safe future.

"Sir, with all due respect." There wasn't even a shred of respect in your tone. "If the boot fits, lace it up." Your reply was cheeky and defiant. And he didn't have any words for that in that instant. How that attitude of yours made him chew at the inner walls of his cheek. How that made him undo his tie and unbutton his shirt's collar just to give him some room to breathe. Sometimes, putting you in place also meant giving you your just desserts for being so… you. Sometimes, he just couldn't hold back the urge to make you bite more than you can chew.

Needless to say, two things happened that night. One, someone ate their words. Second, someone was reminded just what Reiner specialized in as the Armored Titan.

"By way of your silence and that look on your face, I'd say Reiner showed you who the boss was." You were pulled out of your thoughts when Hitch's voice broke the silence. You were going to protest but that grin on her face just made you all the more guilty. See, Hitch was the best and the worst person for these conversations. She was the best because she listened attentively to these little girl talks, was invested in the details and the little gossips… but she was also the worst because Hitch was invested in the little details that, when pieced together, gave depth to the entirety of the puzzle. Why was she extra sharp when it comes to things like these?

"P-pretty much." You admitted because the glint in your friend's eye was already an indication that you couldn't lie your way out of this one.

"Well, was it good?" If Hitch could stop hammering you like this… but when she starts, she can be pretty relentless. For a moment, you were silent. Unsure if you even wanted to answer this because it was embarrassing. Soon enough, you folded your arms against the table and pressed your face against it. So helpless. Red as a beet, gaze thrown coyly at the interrogator.

"He was amazing." You whined in defeat, unable to hold yourself back from bragging about your husband. It was the truth anyway, so there was nothing wrong with admitting to it, right?

[distortionbobble]

this is just a silly little warm up drabble to get me back in to writing but.... modern!anakin as the fun but lowkey deadbeat dad and you, the kids' babysitter after he divorces padme is haunting my brain. this is a little different from my usual writing style so if it's a flop everyone close their eyes ok thanks

warning there's no actual infidelity here but it's a little iffy it's a little close. as per usual minors dni

you know he's not the best dad. really, most of the time he just feels like a kid that never grew up. he's childish, snappy, and if you ask him who leia or luke's teacher is he's got no idea.

but man does he love those kids.

you started off as padme and anakin's babysitter; a bandaid to padme's problems with a marriage that's falling apart. she's exhausted, tired of taking care of two tiny seven year olds that are a little too good at getting into trouble. you'd know, you've seen it yourself so so often.

when anakin comes home, he gets to be the fun parent. always away on business trips or whatever-- and you know he's not cheating, he's too faithful to their marriage to do that-- but it doesn't change the fact that he really isn't doing much around the house.

padme doesn't confide to you often but when she does, over a glass of wine after the kids are tucked in and some thriller from twenty years ago is playing on their flatscreen, she tells you things. about their dead bedroom, created mostly by the fact that she can't stand anakin's touch anymore.

and you sympathize with her, you really do; he needs to do more chores around the house, he needs to stop contradicting padme when she gives a consequence to the kiddos and back her parenting up. he's making her the villain in the kids' eyes, you hear her!

but... you don't fully understand how she's able to keep her hands off of him. if you were in her position, you'd probably feel the same, but you're not and anakin skywalker is really. fucking. hot.

but that's none of your business.

until they've divorced. anakin's moved out but the kids are over there the weeks that he's in town and not on business trips. you come early one day, forgetting that the kids come home later on wednesdays, and anakin's in the garage, slid under his car, fixing something that you don't care about right now.

what you do care about is that he's shirtless, with motor oil streaked across his abs, his skin glinting in the afternoon sun and you want to lick it off of him. you should look away, should feel some type of shame, but you don't.

you only realize that you've been ogling him when he slides out a little more and laughs at your sight glued to his body, putting on a show of gulping down water and letting it fall messily. you can't help it, you watch the beads of water trail down his chest, down to his happy trail, and you have to hold back a whimper because dammit, you want him to bend you over the hood of his car and fuck you.

"d'you wanna come in?" he asks, getting up to turn off his music. some blend of early 2000s rock that fits him a little too well. "kids aren't home," anakin says. you don't have it in you to say no.

you're not sure what exactly started everything, but it doesn't matter when he's got your legs spread, has you leaning on the back of the couch and his face is buried between your legs, sucking on your clit and fucking your hole with his tongue. you can feel his nose drag against your labia, and it feels so good you have to hold back the whimpers and moans with your hand clamped to your mouth.

at this, anakin's just laughing at you, teasing you, "when was the last time you got laid, baby? just seein' a little skin got you this worked up?" and you can't manage a word back, distracted by the feel of him and the anxiety of needing to get this done to pick the kids up from the bus.

anakin's not worried about time, tho. he knows he can make you cum in five mins, that's all. and he does. by the time you're finished, his face is fucking soaked, and you'll be more than lucky if the neighbors didn't hear.

doesn't take much convincing after that to start coming in earlier on wednesdays.

[leclsrc]

Hi! I just found your blog and am in LOVE! Congrats on 2000 followers by the way! You deserve them all and more, I'm a new follower so you're over 2000 now hehe~ Could I please request the 'hugs from behind' prompt with Charles Leclerc? It sounds so cute! I hope you're doing okay. Congratulations again! 😘❤️❤️

olive you – cl16

genre: fluff, 2k celebration, olive theory drabble

auds here... finishing out my drafts from the 2k celebration... i have like 65 more i have to filter thru lol... love u guys

Waves crash softly against the pebbly shore, salt filling your nose as you twirl pasta onto your fork. There is something so enchanting about Italy, something so romantic and unbridled, that keeps you alive and happy whenever you visit. Perhaps it’s the food, the locals, the souvenir shops, the signs reading alla spiaggia right by the summery coast.

You chew on your fettuccine, and watch as a fork slowly deposits olive segments onto your plate. Perhaps, then, it’s none of those things. Perhaps it’s him. “Mmm. Grazie,” you hum gratefully, mixing the olives into your pasta.

Like many routines, this came to fruition with years of habit. On your first date, at an Italian place in Monte Carlo, you’d gushed about how much you liked to eat olives. Charles had done the complete opposite—he couldn’t stand them, he droned. Not in pasta, not in martinis, not anywhere. So it came to be that he would buy you jars of olives or give you the little bits he found on his plate.

It wasn’t a big deal to either of you at first, but your friends thought it was just about the cutest idea in the world, the pinnacle of the opposites attract concept, the perfect balance. And every time you get together they ask Charles if he likes olives, and each time, he kisses your hair and murmurs never.

He loves to kiss your hair, your legs. Nobody has ever come that close, you tell him every time. Only the air, only the water, only my spritzes of perfume. Nobody.

—

“Martini?” Carlos asks.

“Oh, I—” Charles smiles dopily, shaking his head. “Olives, I don’t like them.”

“Took a shot with the order. Sorry, mate.” They shake hands, wait for the meeting to start, make small talk about work and the off season. Being back at Fiorano always gives Charles a daunting kind of feeling, one that typically quells once he catches sight of you. Carlos pauses, takes a sip from his cold drink, then, “Are you sure you don’t like olives?”

Being a relatively new close friend means Carlos hasn’t yet been privy to the olive theory that’s spanned years and continents. Charles nods, opening his mouth to explain why, and why this fact matters so much, then—

“When we got a 1-2 in Bahrain last year,” his teammate starts, “and we all got drunk, Isa didn’t let me have alcohol because she didn’t want to drive me home.” He laughs. “Anyway, I saw you eating olives. You had a little toothpick thing, picking out olives from the aperitivo.”

Charles’ heart pounds. “Huh? Well… I guess I wouldn’t… mind them.”

“Eugh.” Carlos grimaces. “Olives are shit. Isa thinks so, too.”

—

You’re busy at the stove cooking a half-assed meal when he wrestles himself through the flat entrance, following the smell of garlic and approaching you instantly from behind. His hug is intense, his lips latched onto your neck. He inhales your scent, comforted by the traces of your perfume, his own scent lingering on his polo that hugs your body.

“Don’t be mad,” he says thinly, half-muffled.

“I told you don’t get a tattoo of my face across your arm.”

“It’s not that,” he says, resigned. He pouts, and you turn to comfort him, fluffing his hair up. A rogue strand falls in front of his face and when you lean closer to brush it away, he takes the chance to kiss you.

You smile while you kiss. Whaaat? You ask into his lips, amused by his silence and shyness. He still is quiet, lips just resting on yours. You pull away, a bit more worried now.

“Charles.” Your hands find purchase on his arms, shoulders, then his face in your grip. He holds your hands there.

“I…” He pauses. “I think I—I like olives.”

You relax, and the smile that arrives at your lips is purely involuntary. You can’t help it. “So we both like them,” you say simply, with a smile. “We’ll have to work out a system where you don’t steal all my jars from me.”

What your goof boyfriend fails to realize, you think as he bends over the stove and helps you finish off the pasta (extra olives, this time) is the olive theory has never mattered to you. It was never about the olives. It was never about the jars.

If love was about anything—it’d always, always be Charles.

[en-gelic]

Fireworks

Pairing ๋࣭ ⭑ friend!jake x friend!reader | genre (s) ๋࣭ ⭑ fluff, drabble | word count ๋࣭ ⭑314 warnings ๋࣭ ⭑ fluff, some mentions of the world ending and de*th (not really) status ๋࣭ ⭑ proofread ! 𓍯 library ๋࣭ ⭑

60 seconds until it was all over.

18 years spent with laughter, friendship, academic rivals, and most importantly, him.

Sim Jake.

You sat across from your best friend and love interest and regretted not telling him how you feel. It didn’t matter now since the world was ending anyway. Still, a part of you yearned for him.

Watching his side profile, you got lost in mere moribund wishes.

30 seconds left.

He turned to you and shot his ever-so-familiar boyish grin, just like the day you first met.

Instead, this is the last time.

Just do it.

“I can’t believe it’s going to be over.” He muttered, eyes scanning your face as if you were the thing that was keeping breath in his lungs. Memorabilia crept in as your wishes prodded through your mind in an attempt to stay alive.

20 seconds left.

Just do it.

You will yourself to meet his gaze as your heart knocks violently at your chest.

15 seconds left.

Taking a deep breath, you began, “I know the world is about to end and we’re not going to see each other after this and that even if we do, I don’t think I can do this in heaven, but I like you.”

Fireworks erupt in the sky, reflecting through his coffee eyes, now slightly wider due to your confession.

A sigh escapes your mouth as the reporter yells through the radio. “We made it! Happy 2000!”

Your eyes shut, ready to brace for the pain of either the world tearing into shreds or the pain of his next words. Without having time to think, you feel a pair of soft lips gently colliding with yours.

Immediately, you opened your eyes, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours as he pulled away, eyes hinted with cheekiness.

“I like you too,” He said, a slow grin growing on his face.

๋࣭ ⭑ authors note: first drabble >.<

౨ৎ perm taglist: @i57berry @cholexc (open)

All rights reserved, en-gelic 2024 ©

[dawnagustd]

party time || jhs

Part of the Jack N’ Jill Series: Encore | Danger! | Party Time

⇢ Drabbles: Kink Hours Drabble

❃ Festivaled Away: Hope Fest hosted by @bangtanbathhouse​ 

    ⤞ Ticket: Early 2000s Block Party     ⤞ Main Event: No Underwear     ⤞ Games: BDSM Chambers/Sex Rooms | Humiliation | Clothed Sex | Makeshift Restraints | Edging 

 ❂ Lovers Through the Ages    ⁂ Hosted by: Professor Naia through @bangtansorciere​ 

⤐  AU Type: A Modern Love ⤐  Themes: Secret Relationship | Forbidden Love ⤐  Kinks: Public Sex | Exhibitionism | Doggy Style | Praise Kink | Mutual Orgasm | Mutual Pleasure | Overstimulation / Edging | Clit Torture | Spanking | Body Worship | Orgasm Denial | Crying / Dacryphilia | Pain Kink | Losing Mind to Pleasure | Restraints | Dirty Talk | Bimbofication | Corruption Kink | Multiple Orgasms | Nipple Torture

⤞ title: party time ⤞ pairing: lead rapper!hoseok x drummer!female reader ⤞ genre: angst | smut | supernatural | secret relationship | friends with benefits | rich kid!reader | bad boy!hoseok | rock band au | early 2000s setting | forbidden love | undead/zombie au ⤞ summary: Why run away from bad, when it feels so good? ⤞ word count: 4.7k ⤞ warnings: strong language | alcohol consumption | cigarette & weed smoking | mentions chemicals & hazardous areas | mentions arson & other criminal activity | some dark humor | neither of them are completely human anymore | mentions death | strict parents | jealousy | explicit sexual content | consensual knife play | standing doggystyle | dom!hoseok | sub!reader | body worship | public sex | teasing | exhibitionism | finger sucking | spanking | cum play/eating | degradation | light brat taming | clothed sex | gagging | bondage/restraints | nude photography | erotic humiliation | overstimulation | sadism & masochism | crying | nipple play/pinching | multiple orgasms | forced orgasms | corruption |  unprotected sex | fingering | edging | hair tugging/pulling | voyeurism | throat grabbing | big dick!hoseok | orgasm denial | bimbofication | hoseok with painted nails | toxic behavior | clit play | marking | rough/passionate sex | limit testing | name calling | creampie | This story contains dark themes. If you know you are not comfortable with any of these warnings, please do not proceed. It is my job to warn you, but yours to read responsibly. Also please remember that this is fiction. Infections, STDs, and other health risks do not happen unless I write them in. ⤞ rating: R/18+ ⤞ a/n: Heyy!! It’s here!! As promised, it’s short lol. I wrote this during the peak of my pmsing lol so I apologize if it’s not giving what it’s supposed to. Thanks so much @jjksblackgf​ for reading a portion of this for me and to @raplinesmoon​ for volunteering her time to me. Well, I’ll stop chatting and let you all get to it. Also, I reviewed this but there still may be mistakes. Please let me know if I missed any warnings.

Playlist | Main Masterlist | Kink Hour Drabble | Danger!

The “move bitch!” hits harder when you actually need someone to get the hell out of your way. Whatever Ludacris was on when he recorded the song playing through the speakers, is the same mood you’re in tonight

You’re usually the most rational person of the group; your friends blame your strict upbringing for that—but tonight it's the hell with it. You’re pissed off, restless, and a little horny. Just having a little trouble adjusting to this change mostly. 

You still bleed, but your heart no longer beats. Wounds heal quickly, but you don’t eat or sleep. And most importantly you lack two things—a soul and self control.

“Hey Mandy,” you chirp, sitting on the couch you let your friends “borrow” from your parents’ living room.

Every weekend this is the hotspot for young adults, especially when Hoseok throws a party. This asylum shut down in the 80s, but Hoseok and his friends claimed it as theirs a few years back. Now it’s used as a hang out spot, and a place cops don’t dare to enter at night. There are people spread out everywhere, even on the neighboring deserted streets. 

Your band got off stage an hour ago, but music still blasts through the old ward speakers. The members and a handful of groupies usually chill in the lobby—where they drink and do all of their other extracurricular activities.

This place is a hazard, but it’s the only escape some of you have. Your parents would have heart attacks if they found out their precious daughter was here with the guy they told her to never see again. But they were foolish to think you’d ever leave Hoseok alone.

They were right about one thing though—fucking around with him did lead to you digging yourself a grave. However, the unknown chemicals floating around in the basement didn’t want you to leave this world so soon.

You have no idea how or why you’re still living or breathing—but you feel great. As long as no one triggers any negative emotions.

Like the bitch sitting on your man’s lap, for example. She looks at you with disgust covering her features and gives you a forced smile. “Hey?”

You nod and turn your attention to the man of the hour.

“Hoseok.”

“What’s up, ma.”

You ignore the sting that comes with the dry greeting and shift the conversation to a more interesting topic.

“Hey Mandy, what kinda car you drive, babe?”

The slut nearly shakes loose her updo while whipping her head in your direction. Her prideful smile is only seconds from being wiped away.

“The pink Benz. Like the one from the new Chingy video,” she boasts.

You can see Hoseok and the rest of your friends becoming alert because they already know something’s up.

“Hm, that’s cute. Not pink anymore, though.” You take the joint from Yoongi and take a hit, leaning back on the sofa with a long and very much needed exhale.

“Please, girl. You see the body work on my baby. Why wouldn’t it be?” She laughs and looks around at her crew, oblivious to the horrible news she’s about to receive.

“It’s on fire, sweetheart,” you inform.

“WHAT?!”

She jumps up in her little jersey dress and white K-SWISS, then runs outside screaming. Her little clique follows closely behind. Your smirk widens and Hoseok gives you a look.

When she’s out of sight, conversations carry on like nothing’s happened.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, taking the joint from your hand. If only he knew the types of things your body goes through when he speaks to you in that tone.

You usually don’t allow your emotions to control you, but it’s hard to watch the person you’re fucking show everyone else attention except you. You know it’s for the best, to keep the peace between him and the band, but sometimes it’s just a slap in the face. Do they think you’d rat them out before one of their little groupies? You have no reason to; you’re just like them. Sure, they may be better at handling this new life than you, but they also aren’t tested every day by a man as hot as the one sitting next to you.

Maybe you should just blame it on the way he behaved on stage tonight. The way his body moved to the music was sinful, but the growling was fucking demonic. How you managed to get through that performance with him acting like that will always be a mystery.

You assume you were mesmerized, so caught up in his aura to realize that your thighs were rubbing together—just like one of the whores drooling at his feet.

So, yeah you get jealous whenever he acts like that in front of them, but what are you gonna say? What can you do about it?

“Nothing.”

You try to get up so you can leave the party, but Hoseok is too stubborn to just drop it. When you feel his cold hand wrap around your arm, you fall back into the couch and allow him to slide closer to you.

“No kiss tonight?”

“Hoseok, my parents have been calling me,” you lie. “And I’m wearing lipstick, and people are watching us—” 

He scoffs. “Pretty, but full of shit. I see how it is.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a liar. A horrible one,” he tells you.

“I am not—”

He reaches in his pocket and pulls out your little flip phone, tossing it on your lap carelessly.

It almost slides to the floor, but once it’s secured you open it and examine your screen. 

“Not one person has hit you up since you told me to hold your phone 4 hours ago,” he informs and your cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment.

“Fuck, am I really that lame?”

“You are…” his fingers begin to draw small circles on your skin. You panic because this party is huge. Someone from your school could be here, private university isn’t that big. Or one of your friends could see and would want to kick you out of the band, “but it’s sexy…and I like it.”

Of course, when you try to pry away he squeezes a little tighter.

“Am I taking you home or are you staying with me tonight?” 

You look at the time and the bright “1:00 AM” mocks you. There is no way you can walk through the front door at this ungodly hour—high as a kite, dressed like what your mother would call a whore, wobbling because Hoseok’s bent you over twice on the way there.

“No, I’ll stay,” you sigh.

“You don’t sound happy about it.” He lifts his eyebrows and it disappears behind his bangs. 

“I’m just not looking forward to arguing with them, you know. All they do is argue, and when they aren’t, they’re ganging up on me.”

“Ah, let’s not think about all that shit right now; it’s bad for my soul.”

The eye roll comes naturally because only he can tell a bad joke and get you to smile. 

“You’re dead. You don’t have a soul, Hoseok.”

“Half dead, actually. My dick still works and I could’ve sworn my heart skipped a beat when I saw you in that skirt tonight.” His smirk should annoy you, but his dimples make you squirm in your seat.

“Are you sure it wasn’t because I was bending over?”

“Could’ve been…”

His words trail off and he becomes distracted by something or someone across the room. You look in the same direction and to your disappointment there’s a girl dancing promiscuously to Dirrty while taking off her clothes.

It’s about more than you can take, so you try to stand. However once again, Hoseok snatches you right back. “Slow your roll, baby.”

You huff when your plan to escape fails.

“Where are you running off to?” he questions with amusement present in his voice.

His painted nails trace the hem of your skirt, caressing your thigh to calm you down. You hate that it works, and bite your lip to stop yourself from relaxing your muscles. But it’s only seconds before you lean into his touch.

“I need to leave.”

“And miss the show?” he chuckles while pointing at the woman twirling her hips. His lips press against your ear and he whispers, “I rather see you doing that, you know.”

“You’re a pig,” you scoff and he squeezes your thigh as a warning.

“And what does that make you?” 

You gulp as his soft kisses make their way down your neck. Your clothing is bunched in your hand as you fist them tightly. Your breath hitches when his teeth graze your skin. Curious eyes begin to watch the act unfold and as soon as he starts, he suddenly pulls away.

You release the breath you were holding and suffer silently with disappointment.

“It’s attention that you want, isn’t it?” You don’t even have to answer for him to know that it’s true. He laughs, his whole body shaking so much that everyone around, including you turns to look at him. Instantly, he stops and looks directly at you. “I’m gonna leave the room and only one person’s going to follow me—it better be you.”

Your panties are soaking by the time he throws back his drink and stands up. Hoseok begins to walk away and people in every direction look on to see what your next move is. Before he can even leave the room, you’re grabbing your bag and following him out of the lobby into the asylum’s dark and eerie halls.

You have tunnel vision as you bypass all the envious eyes and side jokes. Only one thing is on your mind because you already know what time it is. There’s only one person more spiteful than you when you’re angry and that would be a pissed off Hoseok. No matter what he has planned, it’s going to be bad—but it’s still going to feel so damn good.

“You look so beautiful when you cry.”

Hoseok circles the table, his shoes thudding against the grimy floor each time he takes a step. He searches for the perfect angle, the best moment to snap a photo of you squirming and moaning in agony.

All you want is for him to touch where you need to be touched. However, all he’s done for hours is taunt you with broken promises.

“Say cheese, baby.”

As if you could do anything with your panties shoved in your mouth. 

The more you struggle the tighter your bindings become. You’d think the old cords and tubes just lying about would snap easily, but Hoseok took extra measures to make sure you couldn’t move.

“So…beautiful.”

He aims the camera at your wrists so he can capture the way the cords dig into your skin, only temporarily scarring your flesh. The sight of you tied to a gurney, defenseless and at his mercy excites him in ways only you can understand.

You share a fetish for pain—he to inflict and you to receive.

You have a whole catalog of private photographs to show the lengths you’ve gone to fulfill your twisted fantasies.

He’s always said he struck gold when he met you. Girls would laugh and call him weird for the things he liked, so when he met someone who wasn’t afraid of the dark side, he couldn’t resist tainting you and making you his.

“Now this is art,” he whispers while inserting two fingers into your pussy. You attempt to scream his name, but it only comes out as a muffled cry. “So wet. I bet you wanna come so bad right now, huh?”

“Mmhm!” 

Your eyes are blown out and beads of sweat form on your skin. Hoseok twists and curls his digits inside of you as he moves them in and out, making legs buckle and threaten to give out at any moment.

Your body works desperately to gain more friction, and just when he hits the right spot—his movements stop and he pulls out of you. 

“Not right now, sweetheart.”

The tears sting as they form in your eyes; denial seems to be the theme for tonight.

Hoseok laughs while he sucks your juices from his long fingers, and teases you for thinking he was going to let you come so easily.

It’s been hours of this—him torturing and capturing his favorite moments on camera. Your body’s so worked up and overstimulated. Though, since you’ve crossed over your tolerance is higher, and you can withstand so much more. 

Neither of you can ever resist the urge to test your new limits nowadays. Even if it means dragging it out for long periods of time. The results are always worth the wait.

“So delicious,” he comments, and you can only stare ahead at the wall as embarrassment washes over you.

His mouth is filthy and his desires are sadistic. You had no idea that either would turn you on strongly.

Hoseok snatches your panties out of your mouth and tosses them across the room. He walks over to the window, looking over the crowd before he returns to your side. 

The first blow he delivers comes without a warning, and so does the second. You’re sure everyone can hear your screams, but it’s become too much to contain them anymore. 

He stops for just a moment, only to ask you a question. His hand still rests on your ass, attempting to soothe the skin he’s abused only seconds before.

“Now you wanna tell me what’s been up your ass lately?”

His chilling touch does little to tame the heat rushing through you. Your dormant heart begins racing for the first time in what seems like forever, the throbbing nearly as intense pulsing within your core. You clench your fists as tightly as the bindings that strap you to the gurney.

“It’s nothing, Hoseok. Please, just—ahh!” you wince. “Fuck, this isn’t fair.”

“Liar, liar…if you lie to me again your ass will be on fire,” he chuckles.

The moonlight that shines into the darkness enlarges his silhouette, making him appear twice his size. The hollowness of the room allows his voice to project and ricochet off the grungy walls, giving you chills and shakes.

A sigh leaves your lips as the stinging subsides. Although the ghost of his touch still lingers in the reddened marks that resemble the shape of his palm. You cave and submit to the pleasure, moaning while his hands continue to roam all over your body.

“It’s them. Isn’t it, baby?” Hoseok leans over your body, pressing his ear against your back so he can listen to the sound of your blood pumping through your veins again. “Jealous, aren’t we?”

Shamefully, you confess.

“A little bit.”

He shushes your whimpers and strokes the hair out of your face. You feel the cords grow slack around your body, and you relax under his gentle touch. However, your reverie is short-lived because your punishment is right around the corner.

“Well sweetheart, if you wanna be a whore…” He growls out his words as he tugs your hair. The back of your head collides with his shoulder and you can only stare at the stars through the hole in the roof as you wait, your legs trembling with need. 

He collects arousal from your inner thigh and brings it to your swollen lips, smirking when you absentmindedly dart out your tongue to taste yourself on his fingers. “Oh, I don’t have any problems treating you like one.”

Hoseok moves swiftly when freeing you from the device he’s created to restrain you. He pulls you to your feet with your hands still tied behind your back, and you require his support to stand properly because your legs can no longer keep you up on their own.

“Come here,” he commands, and he drags you towards the glassless window.

He uses his body to pin your lower half against it, and his grip on your hair to keep the upper portion from toppling over. “Hoseok…”

He ignores you and continues to yell in your face.

“This is what you want, right?” You hear his zipper sliding open, and seconds later the blunt tip of his dick touches your ass. “You want everybody to know you’re getting fucked, don’t you?”

You bite your lips raw trying to suppress your moans, but he squeezes your cheeks and forces you to let them out. The people below are clueless to what is happening five floors above them, but you’re sure before this is over they will be well aware of what is going on.

“Answer me!”

“Yes, Hoseok! I do. I fucking do,” you say while looking him in the eyes. 

He shakes your head slowly, and the tone in which he speaks is condescending.

“Shut up, you know what you want.” He lets go of your face so he can position himself at your entrance. Desperation leaves you trying to push back on his erection, but he wants to move at his own pace tonight. “You’re just a dumb little whore who’s needs me to make decisions for her. Isn’t that right?”

“Hoseok, please.”

“Uh-uh, not until you accept it,” he tsks.

You turn to him again. “I am, okay. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Still with the attitude, I see. But no worries…I can fix that.”

He chuckles and tilts your head downward to look at the people below.

“That’s a long way down, isn’t it?” he asks, and you respond with a nod.

You gulp. “Yeah, it is.”

“It’s a good thing that you trust me, huh?”

“Mmhm,” you moan once he starts to probe you with very shallow and tiny thrusts. You almost allow your mind to slip away, but his previous statement comes back to haunt you the second you remember your fear of heights.  “Wait. What are you talking about?...Ohh, shit!”

Without another word, Hoseok impales you with every inch of his dick—leaving you gasping, panting, and balling up your fists to cope with the intrusion. 

He curses as your walls squeeze around his girth, making him twitch inside of you. You both fight through the sensitivity in silence.

“Better keep your back arched if you don’t want to fly away from me,” he warns, voice dripping with amusement. His impatience grows, and he can no longer stand there buried in your warmth. Hoseok’s pace starts fast and strong. Your eyes roll back as you get lost in the feeling. 

Even though you can’t move, you still feel like you’re floating away from yourself each time he plows into the depths of your womb. “You probably wouldn’t even care, would you?”

The skin slapping noises echo through the room and drowns out your soft incoherent babbling. Your vocal cords are totally trashed after a night of singing and screaming his name over and over. You mumble responses in hopes that he can hear you, but he’s quick to tell you that he can’t.

“Speak up, bitch. I can’t hear you.” He pinches your nipple through your shirt, growling in your ear when your cunt clenches around him like a vice as a response. “Well, fuck me. So your pussy talks, but you can’t?...It’s a good thing you’re pretty.”

“Come. I need to—”

“What was that?”

“I said I need to come,” you rasp, but once again your request is denied.

“Sorry, I don’t speak whore. Try again.”

You can’t do anything but sob. Mascara runs down your cheeks, and leaves a bitter taste on your lips. “Hoseok, please. I can’t.”

“I don’t give a shit!” 

Nearly at the speed of light he snatches your hair, his hunting knife coming out of nowhere to lay flat against your jugular. Your gasp seems to travel through the open air, and alert several people surrounding you. Hard bangs are heard on the door behind you, but Hoseok just keeps going, slowing down his movements momentarily.

“I knew this would get you to speak up. You were gonna come all over my dick had I not stopped,” he grunts in your ear. “Shit, you feel so fucking good.”

“Hoseok…”

“Shh. Don’t talk, just listen…and comprehend if you can,” he interrupts.

Your eyes close, trying to focus on anything other than the intense feeling in your core. You’re exhausted, overstimulated, but still begging for more like you aren’t already fighting to keep it together.

“Tell them,” he requests.

“Tell them what?”

“To fuck off. You’re fucking your boyfriend.” The sharp blade moves across your throat slowly, and then over your shoulder. Your body shudders when it travels down your spine, stopping at the lower portion of your back where your hands are bound. 

Your scalp stings from all the tugging and pulling, but isn’t enough to pull you away from the high you’re trying to reach. Hoseok is like the devil in your ear, feeding you whatever he needs to so he can have his way. “Do it,” he encourages.

“But—”

“But, nothing. You said you wanna be a whore. Well, whores don’t give a damn about who knows…or who sees. Tell everybody or I’ll stop. You want that?”

“No!”

His smile widens at your reaction, knowing he’s got you where he wants you. “Then tell them who you belong to, and stop being such a pussy.”

He slams into your sensitive heat, making you yelp out his name. 

“Hoseok!”

Pleased with the way everyone is now paying attention, he cuts your bindings, instructing you to hold onto the ledge and continue calling his name. He fucks you from behind and abandons his blade so he can tease your bundle of nerves beneath your skirt.

“Please don’t stop,” you beg and he promises that he’d never.

His painted nails dig into the sides of your throat as uses you like a toy and pulls you back on his throbbing cock. You’re covered in his marks already, but he still takes the opportunity to leave more with his teeth. 

The feeling in your center begins to build up again, and you’re certain you’ll go insane if you don’t reach your high this time. Hoseok’s moans and growls fill your ears, drowning out the squelching and lewd sounds coming from between your thighs. Whatever song is playing, it seems to be one that he favors because his thrusts aren’t missing a beat as he plows into you.

“Fuck, Hoseok.” This time he doesn’t need a warning because he can’t take the way you’re squeezing around him. “Please?”

Finally, he caves.

“Yeah, baby. It’s okay.”

You don’t wait for him to tell you twice. Your orgasm hits fast and hard; you have to reach behind you and grab his hair to ground yourself, leaving scratches on his arms in an attempt to cope with how deep his dick travels into your womb. 

Feral noises leave your lips when an intense wave of pleasure takes over you, and the feeling leaves you floating on air as your body attempts to come down from an overwhelming high. However, Hoseok isn’t done with you yet.

“Just one more,” he moans, but you shake your head. He continues pounding into you, and sobs begin to tear from your throat. 

“Too much, Hoseok,” you whine, but he’s only moments away from pleasure.

“I know, baby. I just can’t get enough, sweetheart. Just one more,” he begs, returning his attention to your sensitive clit. “Please.”

“Okay…!”

As soon as he gets the greenlight his only mission is to release his load, and rob you of the last bit of strength you have left. Within seconds you both are howling out each other’s name, and everyone who is witnessing the sight before them are left speechless. 

Hoseok’s seed fills your womb and soothes you until you are no longer tense with oversensitivity. Your head lolls back on his chest and your body goes limp in his strong arms.

He gives you a few seconds to pull yourself together then slowly slips out of you before he turns you around.

“Is there something you wanna say to me?” he asks, forcing you to look at him. You nod your head, and Hoseok asks you to elaborate. Your post-orgasmic high allows you to tell him without any fear or shame of rejection.

“I’m tired of sharing you,” you confess.

“Sharing me with who?”

You roll your eyes in pretend thought. “Mandy, and whoever else sits on your dick when I’m not around. I get it, you like brats, but why am I not enough?”

Hoseok kisses you before you can continue your rant of self destruction. He holds you and caresses your body in a way that brings you comfort and peace—something you’ve been craving for so long. He stares at you after your lips part, but you’re too afraid to ask what he’s thinking.

“If you haven’t realized, I’m a little fucked up,” he says after what feels like an eternity. 

“So am I, Hoseok.” You look down at yourself and then back at him. “If you haven’t noticed.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”

“But ever since…you know. I’ve never felt more alive. I’m becoming less afraid to be myself,” you admit.

“A crazy bitch who burns people’s cars to a crisp?”

“Shut up.” You throw a light punch to his arm, but he acts as if it did severe damage by clutching it and whining. “It was in the heat of the moment.”

“Literally,” he adds, and you both start laughing. His smile is everything, and you wonder if it’d be too much to tell him that. Hoseok senses your conflicting thoughts even amidst the jokes, and pulls you deeper into his embrace. “I’m yours, okay. I only did that shit tonight to piss you off…because apparently that turns me on.”

“I hate you. You’re such an asshole,” you cry, but still hug him tighter. “Our hearts are beating.”

He sighs. “Yeah, they are.”

“Does that mean?...”

Hoseok pulls away before he answers. “No, your marks are disappearing already.”

You look down when he touches your wrists.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” he says to you.

Immediately, you shake your head. “This isn’t your fault, Hoseok.”

“I was talking about tonight. Seeing you mad is sexy, but I don’t like hurting your feelings or making you feel like you aren’t enough for me,” he admits.

You tell him it’s all forgotten and his grin returns. This time you don’t hesitate. 

“I like seeing you smile.”

He nearly chokes on his saliva. “Please don’t make this weird.”

“Shut up! It sounded smoother in my head, okay. Forget it,” you laugh, pulling away to give the bird to whoever is shouting at you from the ground.

Hoseok wraps his arms around your waist and looks out into the night with you, using the position to kiss your cheek.

“Thank you. No one’s ever said anything that nice to me before,” he says after a while.

“Wanna hear some more?”

He scoffs. “Fuck, no.”

You giggle and focus on the city lights in the far distance, a thought running through your mind suddenly.

“So what now?”

His lips pout and he shrugs. “Depends on what you mean, I guess.”

“Like are we going to stay here or…”

“We?” he repeats and you nod.

“Yeah, we.”

“Us?”

“Hoseok,” you warn.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, earning a glare. “Chill. I haven’t really thought about it. What do you wanna do?”

“Well, Mandy is the mayor’s daughter and I kind of just destroyed her car so….”

“I guess we have to leave town then,” he suggests.

“We?”

Hoseok nods and ushers you towards the middle of the room to grab your things. “Yeah, we. Did I stutter? We die together, we ride together. Simple.”

“No matter what?” 

“Through everything,” he assures.

You stare at your feet, and you can feel as he begins to sense that something’s off. “Even if one of us got angry and busted the other’s car windows?”

Hoseok’s entire mood changes, and he removes his arm from around you.

“Run.”

You smile nervously. “Can I call you later?”

“Get out!”

You leave without another word, but your smile doesn’t fade. No one would ever have the balls to pull something like that with him, but you aren’t everyone. 

And that’s exactly why you were able to walk out of there alive—partially, at least.

[onsunnyside]

sonny, i need this man on some kind of bike. i wanna see him doing extreme downhill mountain biking or freestyle motocross. something that gets his adrenaline pumping and requires a helmet. i wanna suck on his lip ring and ride on the back of his motorcycle.

he looks like such a meanie. he 100% is set in his ways and still bumps the same music he listened to in the late 90s and early 2000s. maybe he’s a retired riding legend and he's been training and acting as a mentor to your up-and-comer boyfriend. you took a gap year or put off uni altogether to follow aforementioned bf around the country while he chases his dream, so when chris threatens to take it away, you use yourself as a bargaining chip.

oh, oh, or maybe he's your boyfriend's childhood bff and you accidentally get knocked up after a drunken hookup or some noncon, so you try to pass the kid off as your boyfriend's. oof. wait. i like this one. imagine taking your baby to competitions or races to see your bf and chris coming over to taunt you and talk to your baby, like, "you come to see daddy win? yeah, you miss daddy? tell mommy to let you come see me." and then he looks up at you and he's like, "maybe we can make you a little brother," with the evilest most self-satisfied smirk on his face. comments about how you make cute kids. forcing you to accept money that you don't need bc "i take care of what's mine". your bf made him the godfather and always has him around. i hate him. i'll have two. - bratty spice

BRATTY SPICE AKA @bimbofawn STRIKES AGAIN !! i don't know if i'd write it with Chris, bc i'm leaning towards total hunk Steve/Ari all tatted and pierced 😵‍💫

retired riding legend screams dilf, dark daddy who isn't afraid to ruin your boyfriend's career before it even starts.

dark boyfriend's best friend: NOW THAT IS SPICY (hehe). [dark thots drabble below]

he's always been controlling and inserting himself into your relationship, crashing dates at restaurants, movies, or even your bf's house. you let it slide for a bit until you had enough and brought it up with your boyfriend who told him to give you two some space. and Steve/Ari did not like that.

he gets his revenge by inviting you out while your bf is out of town to "make amends" but it's really just to get you vulnerable and alone. as expected, no one bothers you while you're out bc Steve/Ari looks terrifying and his quite the reputation. that night you two hook up, you're drunk and he's sober, taking full advantage of you, "I'm prepared, don't worry, baby." He says, rolling on a condom, only to take it off when you're fucked dumb in his bed. he fills you to the brim, grunting the filthiest things into your ear about owning you, claiming you, knocking you up (something tells me he knows all your kinks bc of your boyfriend or from perving on the two of you).

fast forward, you find out you're pregnant and know who the father is, and it isn't your bf. you don't tell him, and let him think it's is. Steve/Ari is smug as hell watching you grow his child, while your boyfriend/his best friend gets all lovesick about his baby and the future ahead of you two as a couple.

Steve/Ari supports you all the way through too. filling in for your bf at appointments (he takes up more work for your child), and not correcting strangers when they say congrats to the two of you. he drops by some nights too, eager to get his hands on your body, feel you all over, help with all those hormones while your bf is working long, tiring hours.

this affair stretches all the way to the child's due date, and after the birth is when you finally end the affair, only begrudgingly accepting his money. you may have ended the months-long infidelity, but you'll never escape him bc he's your child's godfather, and still your boyfriend's best friend.

me thinks... one night when your kid is off at your parents, you and your bf plan a date, and guess who shows up !! oh, but he's sulking about a 'broken heart' which is absolute bullshit and you know it. your bf falls for it so easily and invites Steve/Ari in, comforting his best friend about the girl he never knew he was dating: "she wanted to keep us private. she was scared of what people would think." it's so painfully obvious he's talking about you, going on and on about how this girl changed his life, and stole his heart before shattering it to pieces.

he ends up spending the night and takes the guest bedroom. your bf doesn't let you lock the door, "why would you need to do that?" and you can't answer that so you just go to sleep.

and well... Steve/Ari makes his presence known a few hours later, waking you up with his head between your thighs and a sick smirk, "you thought you could get away from me, baby? I own you." you immediately call for your boyfriend, even reaching over to tap him while trying to kick Steve/Ari away but it's all useless. He's is too strong and your boyfriend lies there, knocked out. "Wipe that look off your face, he isn't dead. But he won't be waking up anytime soon. Which means your real daddy has you all to himself."

UHM FIC ?? 🌚 PLS TELL ME IF YOU WOULD READ THIS BC I AM SO INTO IT also, i don't know which dark daddy to choose 🫡🫡

[niloycentral]

Welcome to Niloy November 2023!

We’re glad you want to join the fun in our inaugural year! This is something I hope to generate every November for fans of Aloy x Nil, new and old.

What is it?

Above, you’ll find a table of one prompt per day of November, most of which contain special significance to the relationship between Aloy and Nil. For those participating, simply take the prompt and create something around it for that day.

What can I make?

Whatever you feel most comfortable creating!

If you’re a writer: a drabble, ficlet, even a poem! No word count minimum or maximum, but in the spirit of the event, I recommend no greater than 2500 words.

Artists can do sketches, doodles, fully rendered pieces, comic pages, whatever they are inspired (and have the time) to create.

Gif-makers, virtual photographers, and other types of visual media are also more than welcome to participate and we encourage it!

For prompts that limit gifs and virtual photography, alternates have been provided – though you are welcome to use the alternates for art and/or fic for the given dates, if they inspire you more.

In addition, you are not limited to one form of creation. If one prompt inspires art, another inspires writing, another has the perfect shot from in-game photography, feel free to mix it up!

The only ask is that whatever you create be new for the prompt. However the prompt inspires you, run with it! Some may feel “on the nose,” but those can be fun to explore metaphorically too!

What are the restrictions?

For fic submissions, please use the appropriate submission tags below the text box. All ratings are welcome provided they are properly labelled.

As per Tumblr guidelines, we cannot show any NSFW art or photomodes. If your submission contains NSFW material, please submit a suitable crop preview or censored version that can safely be displayed on Tumblr. The post will also, if possible, have a Mature community content label. This also applies for other types of Mature content.

Can I team up with someone for art or writing for a prompt?

Yes! Fics and art are welcome to inspire each other.

Where do I post?

Wherever you feel comfortable sharing. Fics should be posted on AO3 and you are welcome to share the link on your own social media or in a server. Mostly, I encourage you to submit it directly to the niloycentral tumblr.

If you have a Tumblr: You can submit it directly to niloycentral, or tag your post with either #niloynovember or #niloynovember23 – both will be tracked! You can also @niloycentral.

If you don’t have a Tumblr: You can submit the art or photomode itself directly, or link to your creation on other social media (Twitter, Instagram, AO3, wherever it is hosted) through our niloycentral submissions page using the following format:

Creator: your @(social media) or your alias

Prompt: what day/prompt you have submitted

Plus any applicable tags as per checkboxes below the submission area.

#niloynovember and #niloynovember23 will also be tracked on Twitter, but to make sure we see and catch everything, I encourage submissions to niloycentral Tumblr!

Do I have to do every prompt?

We don’t want anyone to get burnt out or frustrated. Some prompts will inspire more than others and we all have days where we just can’t. You definitely don’t have to do every prompt to be included! Your creation will be featured whether you do all 30, or 19, or 12, or if you even only do 1. You’re more than welcome to continue working on the prompts after November as well.

Do I have to do them in order?

No… but if you do submit to the blog for a prompt from later in the month, we will schedule your submission to post on the proper day (based on EST). Any submissions from previous-day prompts will be posted as usual.

Prompts are being released now, but we ask that you do not post until November 1.

Happy creating!

Prompt list below:

Light

Rain

Fire

OT3 (Alternate: Sharp)

Triumph

Honour

Sun

AU - Historical [pre-2000s] (Alternate: Fly)

Wink

Remorse

Throwback

Cleanse

Partner

AU - Genre [sci-fi, horror, etc.] (Alternate: Mask)

Free space/Your choice

Shadow

Hands

Release

Moon

Coping

Reputation

Joke

Hope

Loss

Steel

Innocence

AU - Modern (Alternate: Mask)

Soft

Ride

Meme

[agustdiv1ne]

Hi hi congrats on your 2000 followers !!! I would like to request some fluffy Namjoon with #099a43. Thank you so much 😁

thank you hun!!! ♡♡ so sorry this took ages to be written :(

wc: 612

warnings: none!

asks are now closed

2k drabble masterlist | main masterlist

when namjoon asked that you wear something blue — particularly a lighter shade of the hue — for your upcoming date, you weren't sure what he was on about. however, as you emerge from your shared bedroom in the exact color he asked, you now understand his intent: he wanted the both of you to match.

you're definitely not complaining; you take in his brown slacks and powder blue button-up with significant appreciation. he stands up from the couch as soon as he spots you, a grin stretching across his face while his hands find your waist. 

"so where are we going, exactly?" you question in a playful tone. your fingers play with his shirt collar and move to smooth any wrinkles around his chest.

he gives your waist a light squeeze. "that's for me to know, and for you to find out, love."

you deliver a light slap to his chest with a whiny, drawn-out "c'mon," but he simply chuckles, entangling his hand with your own to lead you out the door.

much to your joy, you end up at a quaint little botanical garden on the outskirts of seoul, far from the hustle and bustle of the central part of the city. he guides you in with a hand placed on the small of your back, through arches of vibrant green vines. you explore every nook of the beautiful garden, both of you pointing out certain types of flowers that you recognize and taking brief breaks on the benches scattered about.

namjoon's thumb brushes over the top of your hand as you sit hip-to-hip beneath a wisteria tree. the sun begins to dip below the horizon and paints the sky in a spectacular explosion of pinks and purples and oranges. he suddenly stands up feom the bench and gently pulls you up with him. you send him a questioning look, but allow him to guide you to a corner of the garden that you hadn’t noticed before. 

you meander down a stone path illuminated with strings of lights to a small gazebo. the last sliver of the sun steadily disappears behind the horizon, and you look over to find namjoon beaming lovingly down at you.

you squeeze his hand. "why do i have a feeling that you're up to something?" 

he says nothing at first as he envelopes your hands in his own. your body turns to fully face him, and your eyes hold an obvious curiosity. your heartbeat quickens when he takes a deep breath.

"five years we've been together," he starts, eyes shining in the low light. "but it feels like i've known you for much longer. you understand me in a way that my own family won't ever understand. you give me strength whenever i'm overwhelmed or down. you are the loveliest, purest soul i have met in this lifetime, and i feel so honored that you have decided to love me."

you whisper his name as he lets go of your hands for one to dip into his trouser pocket. a gasp passes your lips when he presents you with a glimmering ring. 

he looks up at you with hopeful eyes. "i can't fathom spending the rest of my life without you by my side. will you marry me?"

you feel yourself nodding at him. tears dot your eyes while you exclaim a joyful, teary, "yes!"

your heart swells in your chest as he slips the ring onto your finger, rising up to press a sweet kiss to your lips. you feel him smile into the kiss until you finally pull away.

"kim namjoon," you whisper, leaning your forehead against his. "i am so in love with you."

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[silkendandelion]

The Real Thing (original version)

A Fears to Fathom: Ironbark Lookout drabble, related to My Own, Distant Home

We reached 100 hits on My Own, Distant Home while I wasn't looking, that's so exciting! Thank you all for your support, and have this as a gift. I'm working on another long fic for Ironbark, a proper sequel to this one, so this should line up as a teaser. Something soft and sweet, with just enough dread

UPDATE: This is the original version. A new, longer version is posted to the masterlist and ao3, which is considered the canon version in this AU.

Jack Nelson x Connor Hawkins Words: 1.3k Genre: Fluff (too sweet maybe), horror elements

~*~

Tall, bright green trees lined the winding blacktop road, obscuring the path around the upcoming curves, but not able to block out the sun on such a clear, summer day. The RV navigated the road with ease at the hands of it’s owner and operator, most recently passing a green interstate sign, “You are now leaving Idaho”, and the doubly large sign after it where a cowboy on his horse declared “Welcome to Wyoming: Forever West.”

“I think you were more excited to get your CD collection back than your truck,” said Jack, as Connor flipped happily through his shoe-box of albums, the edges worn down to the cardboard where it had been slid out and back under the bench seat over and over for years.

“The joy is split, for sure. I let the kids keep all the Journey and Alice Cooper. They were vocal about wanting those.”

Jack took his eyes off the road long enough to smile at him, admire the childish joy on his face as he hunched over the box, thumbing over the track lists like he was a teenager again, in a music store for the first time. Behind their RV, they towed along said truck, a 2000 Toyota Tacoma in what Connor affectionately called “Stacy’s favorite green”, bought brand new for cash the year he left the army. The truck he only drove for a few months before he became a fire lookout at Ironbark, and since then had been driven almost exclusively by Stacy: Connor’s older sister, another deceptively charming blonde with two children under 10 and no one to rely on besides her brother.

“That was an incredible thing you did, Connor,” Jack said seriously. “To buy Stacy a car in exchange for getting the truck back. When it was yours to begin with, and she wasn’t going to fight you on wanting to keep it with us.”

“Nah.” He shooed away Jack’s admiration, flipping over the CD in his hand. “I wasn’t gonna leave her with nothing. And it wasn’t like I got her a Mercedes, just a little something for her to get back and forth to work and the kids to school. I should be thanking you, actually, you’re the one who looked over the engine and told the guy to change the oxygen sensors before we would pay for it.”

Jack offered a shrug, managing a shy smile when Connor reached over to nudge his cheek, unable to kiss him with his seat-belt on.

“What kind of albums do you have, Jack? I think we’ve listened to nothing but the radio since we left Washington.”

“I like the radio. It’s got NPR, weather, rock, every—THING! Connor, no.” He yelled (squeaked) in alarm when Connor began rummaging through the glove compartment, looking for evidence to the contrary. Curse the RV for being so wide, he risked swerving if he reached far enough to slam the lid closed. Meanwhile, smiling and completely unbothered, Connor continued to snoop.

“What do we have here? Oh, Jack. Jackie, baby, what are these?” He grinned in triumph to hold up a handful of CDs: his partner’s most private feelings in rhythm and prose. “Is this what you listened to before you picked me up? Toto, Tracy Chapman, Annie Lennox, BOBBY Caldwell—Jackie? Blue-eyed soul?”

Jack’s face was red enough to pass for a farmer’s market tomato, hands tight on the steering wheel. If Connor squinted, he might see steam rising from his collar beneath the tight line of his lips. “Don’t make fun of me, Connor, please.”

“I would never, Jack,” he replied earnestly, all whiskey and warmth as he popped open one of the cases and began to decipher the RV’s stereo system. Static seemed to be the most common channel in their current neck of the woods, among a brief news transmission: ‘—ark state park in Washington, where the body count is up to 9—’, lost to both their ears with Connor’s searching for the right button.

With a slip of the disc in the slot, a sensual piano filled the cabin, only worsening Jack’s embarrassment when a sultry saxophone joined the singer, the iconic croon of a soulful ballad. He burned, resisting the urge to enjoy himself, and chanced a quick look at Connor.

To the tune of his fluttering heart, he only found him smiling, no longer looking through his box or reading the billboards. Smiling at him, all warm brown eyes as he began to sing along, as if to say that between them, everything was sacred because nothing could be wrong.

“I want the real thing, or nothing at all. I need someone that I can be sure will catch me if I should fall. Someone who’ll be there when I call, then I’ll know that it’s the real thing.”

“How… do you know all the words?” Jack mumbled, and Connor cut off his amateur singing.

“Why do you think?” He reached across the console to touch his hand where it loosened it’s grip on the wheel. “You never have to be embarrassed, Jack, not with me.”

Easy for him to say, when he’s the one playing with both the tempo of the poor man’s heart and the temperature in the room. They came to a stop under a light, and Jack busied his hands tapping his thumb on the wheel until he heard Connor’s seat-belt click, saw him rise to walk towards the back of the RV.

“Where are you going?” As long as he was out of sight, he would miss him.

“Use your imagination, Jack, I can’t exactly wander far. Although, I suggest you find a place to park soon, or you might miss the good part.”

“The wh—” He kept his foot on the brake, turning away from the red light to look for him, only to bite down on his words as Connor slowly slipped his belt free, let it fall to the rug with a quiet thump. Next came his shirt, pulled off by the hand on the back of his collar. Among the slow reveal of his toned back, the moles on his spine, the song urged Jack onward, a different one, something about “Come to me” and “Let me love you, honey”.

“The light’s green, Jack.” Connor smirked at him, tossing his shirt in the vague direction of the driver’s seat.

He snapped his eyes back to the road, pressing the gas a little too hard and hearing Connor’s laugh drift up from where he grabbed the kitchen counter to steady himself. If Jack didn’t find a place to park in the next 3 miles, he vowed, he would pull them onto the damn shoulder and hope this road was as rarely traveled as the map had suggested.

From the bedroom, a quiet moan piqued his hot ears, among the sound of what might have been his name if the CD player wasn’t still going in the speaker beside his feet.

Shit. All right, 1 mile.

By the grace of somebody, otherworldly or other, the parking lot to a campsite appeared on his right, empty too, all thanks to the heat advisory that was meant to last for the rest of the week. Jack was probably the only person in the county grateful for it, if only because it meant leaving the key in the ignition to keep the AC running left the music on too.

They deserved their break.

Neither of them knew the winter was going to be a hard one. That before the end of the year, they would be in danger again. Better to grab some comfort while they can, hold each other close, before the leviathan resident of those Ironbark woods extends itself from the trees and begins to seek out the only survivors who know it’s name.

They couldn’t know it was already awake.

[trrickytickle]

Ten-Tickles 🛸

the punchline was “what does it take to make an alien laugh?” but then again, title would get too long. last fic i did for this franchise was so bad (it was pretty much a glorified headcanon list) so i deleted it 💀 Be warned, a lot of these drabbles have the same sort of wafer-thin setup, I just need excuses to write the situations they're in.

Self-indulgent switch Ben+Gwen drabbles I did in between prompts and such. because 1) I’m a 2000s CN kid and 2) I’m trash lmao. Props to my brother for putting up with me for asking him questions about a show I haven’t seen in years and then again it was only bits and pieces of said show. they should have had a tk scene let me live my truth. and yes i've never watched this show in years but i do have a human encyclopedia at my disposal (shoutout again to my poor brobro)

But anyways, oh my DAYS, Ben and Gwen. Still essential parts of EVERY tickle doodle sheet. They were THE ler-leaning switches ever in my day (old hag voice). DEF annoying lers, tk potential THROUGH DA ROOOOF but the shenanigans are better in small doses. footerfeet tickles in ditto + wildvine + greymatter drabbles btw (if u dont like) (OH and in the last drabble as well)

I am NOT familiar at all with any of the story stuff or like 128923 other serieses. All I know is that there's a blue furry now and what my brother tells me (a whole bunch, it's the tism) (same). This is just my brainvomit.  So yeah. These are the small shenanigan doses. 10 drabbles, 10 aliens, that’s the gist.  YEAH IM TRASH SUE ME

Putting the weird gut-wrenching feeling he got after the Omnitrix would power down again aside, Ghostfreak was a fun one. What was not to love about phasing through walls like a peeping Tom and scaring the crap out of little kids? Best part was- Gwen didn’t seem to like him.

This past summer, the Rustbucket had parked its tires down next to many, many art museums, much to Ben’s dismay. The Cleveland Art Museum was no different to him (it was in Ohio, so it was probably worse).  Marble statues and paintings filled a lifeless square with ivory walls as if to compensate for something. Like the art strung up on the walls, it was a tragic sight. Ben gave a loud groan, to which Grandpa Max shushed in response.

“Look, it’s all part of the deal-” he lectured. “We went where you wanted to go-”

“Blehh-bleh-blehh-bleh-bleh-bleh-bleeh..” Ben mocked, just barely brushing past a delicate display.

“Can’t you have some culture, mush-for-brains!?” Gwen snapped. “This place has lots of history behind it!”

They kept walking, stopping to admire piece after piece after piece, and then they just had to read the little information cards on the bottom. Boring.

“Yeah, yeah, history, schmistory. The guy who drew that’s probably dead anyway. Speaking of dead…” Slamming the dial on a spooky silhouette, Ghostfreak floated up with a chill in the frigid air. 

 "Boo!" he joked, startling Gwen (and everyone else in the museum) with a jolt. She scowled, glaring daggers into Ghostfreak's single pupil.

“What? This place is practically a ghost town already.” Another glare from the ginger. “Tough crowd, I guess.”  Ghostfreak phased through a few statues and peeled off its skin to scare onlookers, then went back to bother Gwen again.

“Heeeeeyyy…” 

"What.” Gwen snapped, turning around from her view of a sculpture. The alien dove through her torso, phasing through and quite literally getting inside her head, possessing her and stringing her hands around like a disorganized puppeteer.

"Stop tickling yourself." Ghostfreak rasped. Out of her control, Gwen's own hands danced around her tummy. Her possessed body struggled to keep from breaking out in a laughing fit, snickering, snorting and gritting her teeth.

"NGH-gh-hh-heh.." Gwen grunted, contorting her twisting smile into a grimace. Her own arms still moved unwillingly around her sides, and Ghostfreak's teasing whispers rang through her own corporal body.

"Stop tickling yourself. Stop tickling yourself. Stooop tickling yourself~" Her cousin's nagging voice surrounded Gwen's thoughts louder than usual, and if that wasn't bad enough, her own fingers involuntarily dug their way into her ribs, and along the hallowing halls reverberated her shrill, loud shriek.

'Hehehe-haha-hYIEEEEK!! Youhohou're such a dweeb!!" Through laughter, her own hands squeesed their way down her sides.

Ghostfreak phased out of her, laughing in a strange demented manner. Scowling, Gwen and Grandpa Max were dragged out of the building whilst Ben floated behind, gloating.

Well, this wasn't the first place they were kicked out of.

The Plumber base was cool at first. The secret entrance was cool. The alien ray-guns were cool. Even the prospect of plain old Grandpa kicking butt for a living was cool. As visits became more frequent, the wow-factor dulled. Grandpa Max would almost always be off discussing confidential matters, and Ben and Gwen would be left to their own devices under the vague condition of "don't touch anything", and more often than not, Ben would run into a room he wasn't allowed in while Gwen ran after him, and such was the case. A monitor twice the size of a movie screen fell before the cousins' eyes, with a keyboard thrice as wide to boot.

"Too many failed login attempts. Try again in fifteen minutes!?" Ben groaned. "You'd think we'd be allowed to test some of this stuff out.."

"What part of "don't touch anything" do you not understand, bozo?" Gwen retorted.

"Relax, it's not like he'll notice.." Ben shrugged in response, fingers wriggling over the cluttered keyboard. Before he could lay a finger on it, Gwen held him up by the back of his shirt.

"Hey! Do I look like I want Grandpa to kill us?"

Writhing, Ben looked down, turning the Omnitrix dial and slamming it, resulting in a mass of neon-streaked ferrofluid coagulating into his technological form. Upgrade slithered its way out of Gwen's reach and enveloped the screen, and Ben was interlinked to the monitor.

"Wo-ho-hoah! Look at all these! I don't even know what to name all of them!" Upgrade chirped, putty-like head popping out of the monitor. Slides of alien data files popped up in duochromatic green and black. Gwen groaned in frustration and scoured the keyboard for some sort of power down switch.

"Come on, come on! The Plumbers should know where to put a dang off button!" Disgruntled, Gwen's fingers closed as many tabs as her cousin could open. Ben felt jolts of static zapping at his mechanical form. For every press on the unnecessarily complicated contraption, the little zaps would grow increasingly inconvenient. And they tickled. Bad. Upgrade thrashed, threatening to jump out of the screen.

"-ngh- Would you stop -ugh- bothering me? I'm trying to get us- YOU out of trouble!" Gwen dodged the assault of his synthetic limbs while resuming her attempt to shut the device off.

"Hehe-heh-hey! I'm nohot trying to, you're tickling me!" Upgrade jittered. There was an eager glint in Gwen's eyes which made him regret his choice of words. Like a pianist, she cracked her knuckles, wiggling her fingers before the keys.

"Oh yeah? How's this for tickling? How about this?" Gwen pressed a crescendo of keys in a sadistic cacophony in a quick, succeeding fashion. Her fingers precisely clicked away from the top row all across the bottom. Upgrade's putty-like construct could barely constrict, only jutting outwards as each shockwave coursed through his synthetic body.

"G-gh-HA-HA-heh-HAHA-hah-heh-ha-HAHAHAHAHA! Quihihit it, lame-brain! Stohop, stohoho-hop! Ihi-hihi'm beheh-hehe-gging you!"

"Nope. Serves you right!" Gwen continued, smirking in sadistic glee at her newfound knowledge. Her hands criss-crossed across the board, aiming for certain nooks and crannies (the space bar was especially bad), laughing along with the Mechamorph.

As what was left of ten minutes ticked away, the clicking of keys grew louder and faster, and Upgrade's chippery laughter rang through the hallowed halls of the Plumber base.

It wasn’t fair. No matter how many games of license plate bingo Ben betted it on, it was always Gwen who got to sit and soak up the AC in the front seat. It was torture, seeing her kick back, a gloating grin square on her face when she looked back at the shaky, sizzling back seat- and desperate times like this called for desperate measures. Annoying ones. Wandering his way down the matted carpet of the Rustbucket on his tiptoes, Ben crept up at his cousin and goosed her in the sides with an evil glint in his eyes.

“Poke.”

A squeal! made Grandpa look back from the steering wheel and groan dejectedly. Gwen scowled, gritting her teeth.

“Rrrr!  Why do you have to be such a- EEEEE!!” A plethora of pokes followed from her sides up to her ribs, along with occasional digs at her armpits- that is if they weren’t slammed shut in preparation for imminent attack.

“Gr-Grandpa! He’s being annoying!” To no avail, Grandpa Max kept on driving, trying to shut out her high pitched laughter.

“I’m only stopping if you’ll let me sit up front..” Ben retorted obnoxiously. “Poooooke- OW!” Gwen flicked him on the index finger in response, giggling smugly. He attempted to reach in numerous times afterwards, but each one would be deflected by Gwen’s hand.

“Nice try, doofus! That won’t work on me!” she stated, hands on hips. It was desperate times like now which called for desperate measures. Knowing Ben, he wouldn’t back down from a challenge, and when Gwen heard the dial-turn of the Omnitrix, it spelled trouble.

“But this might!” Four-Arms’ booming, baritone voice growled. His massive size bent him double against the roof of the RV, which only made Gwen closer to (two) arms’ reach.

“Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.”

But think about it he did. Gwen’s wrists were grasped by Ben’s single muscle-bound alien arm, lifting her up, and his other three were prodding away while she squirmed at the hands of the squatting extraterrestrial.

"Hihihehehehehe-AH-haha! Puhuhut me dohohown!" She bucked, instinctively kicking the window so hard the air freshener swung like a pendulum. Grandpa Max lifted one hand off the steering wheel to facepalm and rub his temples. Kids.

"Surrender the front seat!"

"Or whahahat, you slimeba-ha-hall!?"

"Or I'm amping it up!" Halting the stabbing jabs, Four-Arms lifted Gwen's legs up, receiving full access to her torso. Her long-sleeved tee was pulled to reveal her midsection, which his brawny lower hands then toyed with like an organ. "So, about that front seat.. Ready for it to be mine now? Huh??.." " ..Huh? Aw, MAN!" Like it was fate, the Omnitrix timed out in a flash of red, and Ben was met with a stern Grandpa-glare.

Why'd she always have to win?

"Kk-ggh-HA-HA! That's unfahair! G-Gwen, you're che-hee-HEA-ting!" 

"Hah-how is it chehe-heating if- -ngh- I'm nohot letting you cheat!?" 

The plasticine squeak of chafing against polyester was frequent as gunfire in the warzone that was the Rustbucket and laughter filled summer air like mustard gas- an all-out tickle tussle had arose in the midst of a stop for gas and supplies. Gwen had the upper hand, as Ben had slid off onto the carpet from her dirty tactic of holding up his left hand (conveniently also his cool alien watch-wielding hand) and targeting his armpit. Hypocritically, she reached over for her spellbook,  leaning over on the booth seat as her cousin floundered on the carpet, and she had let go, unaware, only to look back at a flash of neon green. Ditto emerged, splitting into one- then two- then three. 

"Uh-ooooh, looks like somebody's outnumbered!" One chatty clone piped while the other snuck up behind her back, putting its arms above Gwen's shoulders and mercilessly targeting her tummy. The other two, however, grabbed her ankles and tossed her shoes off and gave each other the same shit-eating knowing smirk, cartoonishly wiggling their free fingers. 

"Hah-hehe-HA-ha-HA! Ahaha-ha-quit it, quit it, qui-hih-hi-hit it!" Gwen repeated, giggling.

"Raspberry on three?" the Ditto at her left foot remarked, the rest nodding. 

"Three.. two.." 

"One!" Gwen yelled, squeezing the Ditto behind her's side. All three yelped in unison, and the smile on her face shifted to one involuntary to a knowing grin. Smirking, she pinned the clone down, pursing her lips and leaning in for a satisfyingly sloppy raspberry, then  another, and then another. All three laughed hysterically, swatting at air. 

"guh-HA-HAHA-AHAHAHA-HA!! Stoppit! P-puh-PLEEASE!" 

"Hah-HA-Ha-HAHA-Haha-have MERCY!!" 

"Nnnnghh-HHHAHA-HA!! It TICKLES!!" 

"Not 'till lunch, dwe- ACK!" Gwen called back as the Omnitrix timed out, only to be greeted with a pounce by her now-human cousin, his fingers threateningly spidering over her. "Don't even! B-Be-hehe-hen!"

Typically, Gwen wasn't one to boast. It was mainly Ben's antics that kept her humble during the road trip. Today seemed to be a rather obnoxious exception- she'd just grasped a spell, and used it every chance she got. Throughout this long summer day, cries of "Reanima Verdanica!" irritated Ben and to an extent, Grandpa Max to no end as flowers bloomed wherever she went.

"Alright, alright! I get it! You can make a few posies and pansies, what's the big deal!?" Ben whined. No response. Thinking the campsite they were parked at could use a little sprucing up, wildflowers sprouted from the mana on Gwen's hands onto the ground. Flowers that were tenfold their original size were visible from the sun-faded windows. Ben slumped onto the dinette table, rolling his eyes, when not long after he decided to take matters into his own hands.

"A little Wildvine'll show her who's boss!" Evergreen now surrounded the inside of the vehicle in a flash of light.  Ben, in Wildvine's form, slithered out the door and snuck up behind his cousin.

"Reanima...verdanicAAHHH! What is WITH you, freakazoid!?" 

"Hah! How's this for a plant?" Wildvine growled. "Betcha flowers can't do this!" Extending like a jumper cable, a tendril from his left hand extended, grabbing Gwen by her legs. Upside-down, the spellcaster struggled in her surprisingly strong bonds. Her spellbook fell to the floor with an underwhelming thud.

"Grrrr! Let me down, or-"

"Or what? You're gonna make me a flower crown?" He gloated. Wildvine's tuberous face shifted into a smirk, and from his sides, he conjured three sets of rakelike vines- two of which wormed into Gwen's armpits, the other pair slowly skittered against her ribs and tummy, and, to her relief, the last pair laid still against his roots. His methods were slow, but boy, were they evil.

"Ngh-hehe-gGGGGH! Reanima-haha... Verda-HA! Reanima Ver-daha-HAnicA! Ngh.. STUPID spell!" Continually, Gwen attempted to say the spell straight-faced, but humiliating giggles would slip out in between her attempt to resist. Not even weeds would grow from the ground. 

"Payback, princess!" Wildvine rasped, the last set of arms shot up and the left arm grabbed hold of her left foot, whilst the right took off her shoe and began to scribble and shuffle against her sole in quick succession. The other vines followed suit, speeding up.

"Ugh! Reanima-HA-HAHAHAHA! Eeee-ya-hehehe-HAHAHA! You are so-hoho getting it when I'm out of here!"

She'd keep that promise and keep it well.

(oh ma JESUS i had to do research (ick) to get this one to work, i'm also a dog person if you couldn't tell)

Most people associated summer with sweltering heat and running through sprinklers. Most people, however, would not associate it with a life-or-death journey to retrieve lost alien DNA samples across the galaxy on a spaceship. Half the Omnitrix's rogue's gallery had been magically corrupted in a battle with Hex, giving Ben limited access to its library. 

It wasn't as grueling as the past battle against Vilgax- the aliens scanned in the past had offered themselves up again without a fight- but Wildmutt's sample was different. Its home planet Vulpin also housed heaps of malignant radioactive waste, so Tetrax, the crystalized mercenary, took matters into his own hands and brought it onto the ship. Flighty, feral and difficult to control, it was hard to ease. 

"Now, no sudden movements.." Tetrax husked. "Just touch and scan." 

"Aw, yeah! Just one left and it's hero time!" Ben boasted. To prevent further damage, the Vulpimancer was surrounded by a ring of creeping green crystal. 

"Nice doggy.. good doggy.." Gwen attempted to reason. The alien responded, eagerly lapping her face and showering it in thick drool. "Ugh! Gross!" Sniffing the air, the canid alien inched toward the two human children. It snarled, then with a series of curious pants, leapt at Ben. 

"Yeesh. Talk about a sudden movement." Gwen chided. The Omnitrix-bearer was nervous- its sharp teeth and cud-like drool was an inch to his face. Tetrax and Gwen flinched. Ben knew Wildmutt, and he knew him well- this beast could maul him at any second. 

What came instead was much less lethal- the alien's panting changed to that of excitement, and nuzzling against the fabric of Ben's shirt, it started to sniff him, the gusts of hot air blowing against his tummy. 

"Nnghh! Gh-hh-Ahah-Hh--" 

Gritting his teeth, it didn't take long before he'd burst into loud, embarrassing laughter. 

"AH-hah-ha-ha-HAHA! Hehe-haha- Te-hetrax! Make him stohohop!" 

Tetrax stood, smiling innocently. Boyish laughter urged the Vulpimancer to lean in closer and pepper Ben with slobbering dog-kisses, much to Gwen's delight- this was perfect blackmail material. 

"Aw, who's a good boy? Whooo's a good boy? Who loves torturing my doofus cousin? You do, ooooooh, yes, you do!" Gwen cooed, teasing Ben with wriggly fingers. 

"Gaha-guh-Gwen! J-Juhust ge-heh-het Wildmutt offa mehe-hehe!" 

"What's that? The doofus says he likes it?" She chided. 

"Now, now, don't tease him too much. Scanning mode will trigger soon." Tetrax responded, ceasing playing dumb. 

Ben bucked, as the Vulpimancer's head wormed its way into his armpit, instinctively causing him to conk it on its skull with the Omnitrix. The watch glowed a dim orange as a robotic voice reverbrated-

 "Scanning mode engaged." Finally. Both Tetrax and Gwen helped the mushy, giggly puddle on the floor which was Ben Tennyson up. Panting in relief, the tingly, shaggy sensation passed. The Omnitrix was complete, and it was safe travels back from here- safe, long, travels where Gwen wouldn't let him live this down.  

(this picture looks really stupid HAHA)

Despite the wide range of useful alien heroes in the Omnitrix, it was no secret that Ben had a clear bias towards Four-Arms- what more could you want? Heck, the guy was hulked out, with four knuckle sandwiches at the ready- and his strength could fare useful for any situation.. especially annoying Gwen. The cousins were tasked to work together on setting up camp, and knowing them, things would only take a turn for the worse. Littered across the campsite were pinewood not yet built into a campfire and tents left unpitched- all because the two were too busy squabbling. 

"...What part of "pitch a tent" do you not understand, bonehead!?" Gwen nagged, hands on hips. 

"Grandpa said that was your job! Remind me who helped gather the firewood earlier?" 

"Four-Arms." she chided. "It's not fair! You get to go hero and I've gotta do everything myself!" Just as fate had intended, the Omnitrix sparked green once again, and Ben gave a mischievous grin, making the redhead want to swallow her words. 

"Oh, I'll have fun showing you what else he can do!" He wiggled his fingers, pressing the watch dial down. In a flash of quick metamorphosis, the boy emerged as- 

"CANNONBOLT!?"  

"Hah! Please. Like that thing can pitch a tent." 

Ben, disappointed with the form he had taken, looked down at his radish-like feet, then back up at his armor plated shoulders- then his fluffy claws... and a devious idea hatched in his spherical head. Grabbing Gwen, Cannonbolt curled up halfway, and though she couldn't see it through her predicament, there was a wide, fanged smirk across his face. 

"AH!! Whatever you're doing, don't even-" 

"Too late! Tickle-tickle tickle tickle-tickle.." His four-pronged claws wormed their way into Gwen's shirt, scribbling and squeezing against her sides while their unbearable fur fluffed against her midsection. Her tummy jerked around as she writhed and threw her head back. 

"Ggg-rr-HHH!!-Hh-HAHAHA-hahahEEEEK! Eeee- Sss-HH-Stoppit! Put me dOHOWN!" 

"Hmm... no. Unless.." Laying on his plated shell, Cannonbolt remained nonchalant as Gwen squealed, cackled and bargained. He upped the ante, lightly tracing over her navel and going over her shirt to poke at every individual rib while she was held snug in a bear-hug. "You let me go hero." 

"Nnnnn-NEHE-Never!" Fighting the press of its claws, Gwen put up a fight- only urging Ben to further egg her on. Bad idea. 

"Well, in that case..." A barrage of quick, spiderlike claw-movements were skidding and skittering around Gwen's tummy. The pine forest clearing around them were as much as a wreck for once, and a familiar voice boomed from within the trees louder than her laughter. 

"Benjamin. Kirby. Tennyson." Grandpa Max scolded. Gwen and Cannonbolt stood like deer in headlights, darting their eyes along the mangled campsite. At least there was someone who could keep Ben in check.

Nothing in the Rustbucket worked like it was supposed to. Flushing the toilet was a three-man effort, the oven would start sparking when the stove was on, and most inconveniently, opening the fridge cut the air conditioning- which was left running as the Tennysons trekked back from a strenuous hike at the Grand Canyon, and to their dismay, Ben and Gwen were greeted by a snail trail of melted ice-cream stretching from the faulty fridge.

“Aw, man! That was our only real food!” Ben whined, wiping his brow, standing at the puddle like it was blood at a crime scene. Gwen stood next to him, equally distraught, as the chunks of cookies and cream barely reached their shoes.

“Yeah, if only SOMEONE didn't leave the AC on!” she snapped.

"Oh, that's an easy fix. A little Grey Matter'll work wonders!” The tiny trooper jumped up onto the kitchenette’s counter, over the stove and made a springy leap up to the top of the fridge and launched himself toward the dusty air vent. Incessantly technobabbling to himself, Gwen looked up with a little too much faith in him. 

"You know, I think this is one of the only good ideas you've had all summer.." 

Grey Matter crawled, slimy hands soldering wires to the best of its abilities. Almost there. Wiping out gunk from crevices without breaking a sweat, his sagacity was paying off well.

“I think it’s working!” exclaimed Gwen, a moment too soon.

“Just a clean around the filter, and..” Red light creeped through the vent as a low jitter signaled the Omnitrix’s cooldown. There was a thud- and Ben’s lower half stuck out through the roof, leaving the air conditioner in worse condition. 

"-Unf! Oooowww!!" 

Stuck in the vent from his shoulders up, he could do nothing but kick and flail- as Gwen erupted in mocking laughter. 

"Hey, hey! Help! Seriously! Stop laughing and let me down! Ugh, I'm telling on you!" Ben whined and kicked at Gwen's face, unaware. 

"Oh, I'll help you down, alright.." Her smug smirk, one of pure, unadulterated childlike mischief, was out of sight, which left Ben oblivious to the assault that was to come. Yanking his shoes off with a struggle, and swiftly, her shifting fingers swooped along his socked feet.  This was so worth losing an entire tub of ice cream.

"WAIT!!- Nnng- heh-HUH-hahaha-Whahaha-what gi-HI-hihives!?" 

"I'm just helping you down, what's with the attitude? Do you want to spend the rest of summer vacation with your head up a vent like an ostrich!?" Gwen played dumb, almost-reluctantly sliding off Ben's left sock, nimble fingers flossing through toes, ringing unrelenting laughter. 

"Ggh-HAH-haha-HA!! Stohop making f-huhun of me!" With each trace at the arch and dig at the toes, his face flushed from above. Gripping desperately onto the roof, he thrashed, threatening to crash on the carpet. 

"I bet there's a spell in here somewhere.." pondered Gwen. 

"nn-NNN-PLEAHASENO!" In fear of the mere suggestion, Ben fell facefirst into the confection on the carpet. Holding back giggles, Gwen walked away as he grumbled. 

They wouldn't be getting any cool air for days.

"G-AAAAAAH!!" 

A failed leap of faith sent Gwen, donning the Lucky Girl mask, careening down the Seattle Space Needle hopelessly, just barely escaping Charmcaster and her bag of tricks. Her own hero exploits were as infrequent as they were dangerous- which was why, for safety's sake, she would be frequently accompanied by Ben.

"huh-huh-Phew..-whoo-.." 

As her arms flailed in an ostrichlike attempt in flight, Stinkfly's gangly hands had grabbed her mid-air, a light buzz coming from his insectoid wings. Gwen was safe and sound- but his putrid smell couldn't escape her. 

"I really saved your butt there, didn't I?" his phlegmy voice reverbrated, Charmcaster's flying golems hot on their trail. They weren't any trouble- they were easily apprehended by the goop from his eyestalks. 

"Yeah, but you really didn't need to smell like one! Now, hurry!" As they lost the evil enchantress, Gwen sassed and the duo flew toward the Rustbucket. Manoeuvreing over buildings with beating wings and showing off to onlookers, Ben was taking his sweet time for someone she told to hurry.

Gwen rolled her eyes. "What part of hurry don't you under-ST-eEK! " With a mischievous smirk, Stinkfly's legs reached over to poke at Gwen's middle- exposed from the wind blowing against her costume. Letting go of one arm, its brittle claw wormed (insect pun) into her armpit.

 "Ahaha-HA! Y-yooo-you-hoo-hoo STINK!" she bucked. 

"I know!" Keeping it up, two legs squeezed at the midriff like dough, while another set prodded at her ribs. "Not so lucky, are you now? Are you?" Even in a repulsive form, Ben still couldn't help but boast. 

"Ghh-AHAHA-Heh-sto-STAHAHAP!" Gwen cackled. Fortunately, he heeded her demand- but only when they noticed Charmcaster, brandishing her magical bag behind them. Glowing red, the Omnitrix cooled down. Trouble. 

"Looks like Lucky Girl has a weakness!.." she cooed. "And, oh, would you look at that! I have just the thing.." As wriggly, teasing stone hands flew towards Gwen, she couldn't help but grumble under her breath. Cousins.

(I ran out of "good" aliens.)

(also Gwendolyn's design is just so fucking good I literally love it for reasons I can't explain)

Another time adventure was the perfect opportunity to whisk Ben and Gwen away from a lunch of fried grasshoppers. Though their presence would cause many, many timeline discrepancies, they were the key to thwarting a major anomaly in Ben 10,000's way ..but their importance wouldn't stop the two from running amok in his headquarters. The two marveled at their own accomplishments, their egoes only expanding in the process. 

"Woah! I get to learn more spells?" Gwen leafed through collections of magical runes, unusually eager. A slew of scrolls rolled off onto the metallic floor making a mess. "And that's my black belt!" 

"Another hoverboard? Oh-ho-HO, check it out!" Pushing buttons and flipping switches they shouldn't have, the cousins made a mess of the tall tower- and it wasn't long before their future selves stepped up from the elevator doors, glaring dourly. 

"What have we told you two about not touching anything?" reprimanded the older Ben. "That was a present from New Petropia!" 

"You too, Gwen." Gwendolyn deadpanned. "You know, I'd think us- you out of all people would know better." 

"Ugh, jeez! Guess you're still no fun.." The ten-year-old Ben rolled his eyes, blowing a raspberry at his elder- who exchanged a sly, knowing smirk with Gwendolyn.

"Well, we do know a thing or two about fun..." In the blink of an eye, Future-Ben went Four-Arms, holding his younger self up by the wrists with his first pair of arms. Gwendolyn straddled the latter cousin's legs with a wry smile. 

"Consider this revenge." she teased, baring her long nails at Gwen, tracing, scribbling and spidering over her sides. Four-Arms, bigger and more rugged than he was in the past, dug into Ben's ribcage and armpits, just harsh enough to be unbearably soft. 

"Wha-What are you- Wait! No! We're really so-HORRY! Ah! Haha-hah-heh-HA!" Gwen pleaded through laughter, throwing her head back as her older self dug into her armpits while she thrashed with every touch. 

"Ple-HEASE! I'm -huh- not gonna-ha-ha- touch yo-hour stuff! You're gonna KI-HEHE-HILL ME!" 

"No use bargaining, shrimp." Changing form, a (new!) agile simian alien emerged and webbed Ben up. "I call him Spidermonkey." Its tail yanked his shoes off, and eight fluffy fingers spidered over his soles. Hitting the floor, he thrashed in silky bonds as one of many new forms exploited weaknesses that he himself knew better than anyone. 

"Just s-huh-SE-hehend us to the Null Vo-hoi-d ahat thi-his point!" 

"We're just getting started! I've got 9,998 heroes left!" 

"You know, Gwen.. great point earlier. I did get to learn more spells. Esthesio Pluma!" The younger redhead gulped, preparing for the worst. Fluffy feathers descended out of nowhere, flitting and floating at the flick of Gwendolyn's wrist. They ghosted over her stomach, telekinetically flying into her shirt to fluff at her belly button. The other plumes brushed over her neck in slow methodical fashion, and into her armpits. 

"AH-hehe-HEH-hehehe! Lemme GO-hoho! You've behehe-heen through this!" Gwen reasoned, attempting to swat away the feathers, curling up into a kicky ball. 

"Should we let up?" Nonchalantly, the older Ben rasped whilst running around in XLR8's form, waggling his tail quickly over his younger self's stomach while his claws targeted multiple spots simultaneously.  

"We don't want us to suffer forever.." Gwendolyn assured, relinquishing control of the floating feathers. As quickly as he started, XLR8 stopped, reverting back into Ben. The past-cousins had a moment to catch their winded breath before getting back on their feet. 

"-huff- I'll get me back someday.. Maybe.. now!" Just as Ben was about to slam his watch, his future self poked him on the stomach. "-y-IEEK!" 

"If you tried, we'd know." she jeered. 

----------------------------------------------

and that's the end of that! damn, that last one was long. back to requests!

[erudianokabe]

Monsters

My father often told me that I shouldn’t be here. 

I can still remember the look of disappointment on his face when he realized what I had been striving so hard to achieve. As someone who served in the military, my father knew the hell that followed where war was concerned. A nation like Marley was one that thrived during battles. Conquest was something that was always on their mind. Defending and capturing territories was hardly anyone’s idea of child’s play, but for Marley, having monstrous weapons in the form of Titans, it might as well be the case. 

He knew the perils of being a soldier. He knew the hardships and the trauma that came with it. Most of the time, he believed that these were things that I took lightly. After all, what did I know? I was just a girl who wanted to follow a dream that seemed too far-fetched to even… well… dream about. 

It’s not as if I was following in my father’s footsteps, and it’s not as if I truly wanted to be a soldier in the first place. Perhaps if I’ve never happened upon that one boy from years ago, I’d never find myself here. In fact, now that I think about it, there were so many paths that I could have taken if all I wanted was to help people. 

For one, there’s always a shortage of doctors in this place. When I say this place, what I meant is the Internment Zone. The “pure bred” people of this nation considered the inhabitants of the Internment Zone menaces. They were treated so poorly, as if they were plague incarnate. Shunned upon by society, these people— the Eldians, were nothing more than swine to many. Monsters and devils is what the people of Marley would call them… something that I never really understood. In fact, they looked pretty normal to me. Without the armband that they were forced to wear as a form of label, I feel like no one would have been able to tell the difference. 

They were good people in my opinion, but one person’s thoughts and views hardly mattered in a society that was teeming with both fear and disdain. 

When I think about what my own people do to these poor men and women, I begin to wonder just who the real monsters truly were. 

Marleyans treat the Eldians like cattle… no, even worse than that. At least cattle were desired by most for their meat; prized for the sustenance that they can provide to the body. The Eldians… despite their use in terms of protecting a nation that would readily spit at them and leave them for dead, were used as weapons and were expected to die for the nation’s cause… the very nation that would abandon them given the chance. 

But Marley can’t. 

Despite their hate and their fear, they needed these people to fight their wars. Eldian children were trained and conditioned to inherit specialized titans in order to bring Marley victory. The chosen would be elevated to the status of Honorary Marleyan, a title only in name… the treatment, however? Still the same. Those who were found with crimes were sentenced to a fate worse than death… forced to become monsters that they didn’t even want to be in the first place. Others, of course, were conscripted for the part in hopes of better treatments… and where does that lead them? An untimely demise if one was luck, or a lifetime of trauma if anyone survived to live another day. 

It was tough being an Eldian in the nation of Marley… you were less than the dirt that everyone walked upon. 

It’s disgusting… this place… the people…

Everyone here were monsters; some worse than the rest. 

I’m one of them, apparently. I’m not going to think of myself like I’m some kind of saint… after all, I’m in charge of training the children that would become the next generation titan shifters. I’m no better than anyone even if I want to be. But still, at the very least, I can do something to help them out. I want to understand the people who mine, considered evil. 

And honestly… they were hardly the offspring of the devil. They were no different from the children that played along the streets of Marley’s capital… Well, I hope that at least, others saw it that way too. 

But of course they didn’t. 

The military only saw these children as weapons, expendable resources that needed to be replenished after a certain amount of time. 

It was horrible.

I feel like a monster… and since I’m helping mold them to be weapons, I probably am one as well. But at the very least, if they were considered devils, then I should be too…

…because deep down inside, we’re all the same… aren’t we? 

If my father could see me now, I hope that he’ll be proud of the monster that I’ve become. 

[roosterforme]

roosterforme's 2k followers party

There are 2000 of you now! Let's celebrate like it's y2k and flashback to my teenage dirtbag days. I would love to write some drabbles about the members of the Dagger Squad when they were in their awkward teen years. Send me an ask with some prompts or ideas (perhaps Bob had braces, maybe Hangman was still a virgin at age 19) and I'll write as many as I can! (Send them in today and tomorrow, and I'll write them and reply this week.)

Super embarrassing pics of me from 2000 below the cut.

Once again, thanks so much for following my blog and loving the TGM (mostly Rooster) content! I appreciate you and have really enjoyed getting to know a number of you!

I'll be linking all of these blurbs to my masterlist in my profile!

[noodles-n-soba]

He didn't came home

Scenario: A short angsty drabble because Xiao didn't come home today. :') (guys I'm so sad actually wtf-)

Characters: Xiao, (y/n)

Warnings: Death

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Masterlist

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Your feet traveled amongst the wooden floor of the Wangshu inn's floor, your hand in his and your eyes almost never taken off his'.

'What a rare occasion..' You brought out softly, he turned you around and pulled you close again to his body.. The perfect starlit night above the two of you, crickets chirping in the grass far below and the boards creaking under your dancing feet. 'A rare occasion on a beautiful night..' He muttered, his hand around your waist as he took the lead, guiding you everywhere and nowhere. A smile settled on your face, his eyes sparkled, forgetting all his worries for a minute. Finally, being with you would calm down his mind and heart, nothing to disturb the little peace the two of you had.. He even laid his weapon at door, not glancing at it once. You closed your eyes, your hand slowly slipping out of his leading one and snaked around his waist.

'Xiao..' You begun, slowing down your pace and hugged him. His body jolted lightly, but almost immediately got used to your presence so close to him. 'Yes, (Y/n)..?' You inhaled deeply, a certain anxiety rushing over your mind and body. 'Will you forever be with me..?' He caressed the back of your head as the two of you slow danced, his warmth comforting you in the silence of the yet to be given answer. '.. I will.' He responded, not too fast and also no hesitation.. You nodded.

'.. But, won't I just come and go...?'

He gulped, staring straight ahead of himself and ignored your dancing hairs in the wind for a second. '... I'll be restless once again, if I lost you (Y/n).' He admitted, holding you tighter for a second. 'Be sure to call out my name.. Always, okay..?' Hearing him so vulnerable, breakable. It hurt you, but that moment wouldn't come so soon. Enjoy it, so far you could. You would enjoy your life with the boy, but you didn't achieve anything to extend your life for thousands of years.. You were a mortal, and he was immortal. There would come a moment where the two of you would separate, maybe death, maybe a break up. You'd prefer the day would never come, but life could be unpredictable..

'Im not going with you to the Lantern Festival.. It's something for mortals.. Tch.' You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressed a short kiss on his lips. 'Cmon Xiao! For once.. You've never been there your 2000 years..' He rolled his eyes, a squint on his face. '... I'm no people pleaser (Y/n).. You should know that..' With a pout you sighed, letting go of him and set a few steps back.

His hand quickly grabbed yours, a firm grip as he looked off to the side. 'But, once. To make an exception for only you. I won't do this again tho.' He muttered with a hint of irritation to his voice. You smiled and happily cheered, jumping into his arms once more. 'You don't know how happy this makes me! It'll be the best experience in your life, I'll tell you that..!'

Your eyes widened, hearing the news from the God himself. 'W-What.. I'm sorry, Rex Lapis but.. What do you mean..?' The basket filled with freshly found almonds fell out of your hands, it's contents falling out and the basket rolling down in the grass. 'I'm sorry to.. Say this (y/n), it hurts as much for me.. As for you.. But..'

Your heart teared apart, you couldn't believe your ears. It was all just a bad dream, right? He couldn't.. He would never. He was the strongest of all, he never lost a battle.. Every enemy feared him, victory was always his..

'Our last Yaksha.. Has fallen. His last word was your name, .. I am deeply sorry for bringing it like this to you.' You felt your eyes burning, tears prickling behind them.. God what did the almonds matter right now.. The Tofu you were going to buy? Nothing. Your hands trembled, frozen in place and not knowing what to do, your first reaction after hearing his news was to fall down to your knees and cry.. Bail your heart out, trying to wipe away your tears but they just kept on coming and coming. It was as if life didn't have any purpose, a key point in your life completely vanished.. While yesterday he was there, he hugged you.. Talked to you, kissed you.. Comforted you.. Told you it would be okay. Not a single word of him this morning, he was needed.. And proceeded to never return again.

Xiao. He passed away.

When the realisation hit you, that you would never feel his embrace, hear his voice.. Hear him shout your name, see his rare smiles.. Dance with him while bathing in moonlight.. You felt as if you were suffocating, not able to breathe in enough air.. Tears overtaking your vision and your mind being a whole mess. Your cries were loud.. Once more. You had to try one more time..

'Xiao.. Please. Come back.. Hear my call. Let the wind carry my voice, and return to me..'

...

Normally, his hand would be on your shoulder.. Now, it was completely empty. No feeling, no nothing. Just a cold breeze flying past your shoulder, but not a warm hand. You grasped towards your chest, your shirt clenched in your hand and your forehead almost reaching the floor at this rate.. There was no need to act tough, not now.. Never. You simply hoped that Xiao's spirit would be somewhere out there, watching over you.. And telling you it was okay. Your tears slowly stopped, but there was no way that you could ignore the hole that was formed in your heart.

'... Let us grief and hold a proper goodbye like he would like us to do whenever you are ready (Y/n)..' Zhongli carefully placed a hand on your shoulder, waiting for you to reply. You gave him a slow nod, your head hurting.. But that wasn't the only thing that hurted. Your entire body seemed to give up, body.. Soul and mind.

Forever. Till eternity? Was the promise too surreal?

[baubeautyandthegeek]

Birthday Bingo Madness

Prompt related details: Family is designed to be vague to fit whatever you feel you want to write where Family Values is more fixed on who teaches their family things or people who taught your chosen character something. The Loose Rules: Submissions can be anything written for example : a ficlet, headcanons, drabbles, one shot, whatever you want.   Fics can be a ship, a reader insert, an OC, basically whatever you want. Any/all fandoms we share welcomed, but here’s some ideas; - FBI - CSI (All variants) - Law & Order (All variants) - Criminal Minds - Star Trek - Star Wars - Blue Bloods - NCIS - Dracula 2000 The     Firm Rules:         You must tag me @baubeautyandthegeek and use the hashtag #flickbirthdaybingo35     on each creation  Bingo     begins May 6th  And ends the same day a     year from now.  Please     only post one creation each day. And only one square per creation on each     board.  No     underage characters/readers/oc's in sexual or romantic situations please.  Anything     that gets to over 1000 words should be under a read more.  Please     use appropriate tags and trigger warnings  Ensure     trigger tags are also shown at the top of fics         Please do ask if you have any other questions

Prompts under the cut if you can’t see the boards:

My Current Top 35 Characters: 1. Elle Greenaway 2. Emily Prentiss 3. Erin Strauss 4. JJ Jareau 5. Penelope Garcia 6. Alex Blake 7. Kate Callahan 8. Tara Lewis 9. Ashley Seaver 10. Kate Joyner 11. Katie Cole 12. Clara Seger 13. Abi Borin 14. Holly Snow 15. Hollis Mann 16. Jenny Shepard 17. Kate Todd 18. Abby Scuito 19. Kasie Hines 20. Sarah Porter 21. Alex Cabot 22. Casey Novak 23. Melinda Warner 24. Kim Greylek 25. Dani Beck 26. Connie Rubirosa 27. Serena Southerlyn 28. Alex Eames 29. Serena Stevens 30. Zoe Callas 31. Megan Wheeler 32. Jackie Curatola 33. Erin Reagan 34. Isobel Castille 35. Marisol Delko 35 Smut Prompts: 1. Daddy Kink 2. Mommy Kink 3. Spanking 4. Breathplay 5. Lingerie 6. Choking 7. Consensual Somnophilia 8. Biting 9. Marking 10. Collaring 11. Scratching 12. Vibrators 13. Strap-Ons 14. Tied Down 15. Cuffed Down 16. Mild Flogging 17. Begging 18. Body Worship 19. Dirty Talk 20. Praise Kink 21. First Time Together 22. Virginity 23. Light Whipping 24. BDSM 25. Dom/Sub Dynamics 26. Alpha/Omega Dynamics 27. Fingering 28. Oral 29. Professor/Student Kink 30. Uniforms 31. Suit Kink 32. Blindfolds 33. Temperature Play 34. Delayed Orgasm 35. Multiple Orgasms 35 Random Prompts: 1. Vampire AU 2. Werewolf AU 3. Hurt/Comfort 4. Losing A Child 5. Losing A Loved One 6. First Kiss 7. Workplace Romance 8. Soulmate AU 9. College/School AU 10. Model/Photographer AU 11. “I miss you” 12. “I thought I’d lost you” 13. “Please come home.” 14. “Marry me?”

15. Gunshot Wounds

16. “Why are you bleeding?”

17. “Kiss me!”

18.  Secret Romance AU

19. Celebrity AU

20. First Fight

21. “Bring the fucking fight box… I’m not losing you over this.”

22. Polyamory

23. Poison

24. Crying

25. Movie Night

26. Family Values

27. Family

28. Birthday Party

29. “Birthday Girl”

30. Wedding

31. “My wife…. Still not over that.”

32.  Honeymoon

33.  Sickfic

34.  Accidental Baby/Pet Aquisition

35. “What did I tell you about breaking the law???” “I didn’t…”

[eveningearlgrey]

I think I didn’t introduce this AU properly when I posted the "Warmth", "Rêverie", and "Good Things about Percival Morton" drabbles. So let me sit back for a while and rearrange my thoughts for a bit.

Okay, I’m ready. Here we go again.

May I present to you, ‘Percival meets Peter Smith-Kingsley because why not?’ AU.

The story started in 2016, two years after Kingsman : The Secret Service, which means James died for real. Percival’s emotional state was a total trainwreck and never actually recovered from the loss. No matter how much he tried to act as if he was fine, at the end of the day he was still broken. He would come home, mourned every night he saw the bed he shared with his husband empty.

It went like this for two years after James's death. Time helped ease the pain a little bit. However, it would take only one trip to Italy to render his recovery process back to zero again.

It could be either a long-term mission or a vacation. I haven't decided on this yet. One thing for sure was during his stay in Rome, fate sent him another twisted and cruel test in the form of one young pianist, who looks almost identical to James.

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Peter Smith-Kingsley.

I like to imagine they met on a street or in a cafe. Like, Percival was enjoying his coffee when another customer came in and sat at the table not very far from him. And when he glanced at the newcomer’s face, he was shocked to see his husband there, except that he looks about ten years younger.

It took years for Percival to heal from the loss, to put himself together, to forget the pain. All the efforts he took to overcome grief immediately diminished at the moment he saw Peter, when the face he just saw reminded him of what he had lost.

On the other hand, the young pianist was fascinated by the sight of a man he saw. It might sound cheesy if he called it ‘love at first sight’, but that was the closest words to describe how he felt the moment he locked eyes with this one stranger.

Peter felt attracted to Percival since they first met.

Percival wanted to push Peter away, but at the same time he also wanted to keep him, as he saw Peter as a remedy to the loneliness he had been enduring since James was gone.

A second chance, even.

Meanwhile, Peter was more than willing to offer his sincerity, his warmth, his feelings, basically everything he had to get to know Percival more. 

He wouldn’t mind being a placeholder. As long as Percival was happy, that was all it mattered.

And that marked the start of their journey.

Since my attention span is too short to write anything longer than 2000 words, I decide to make this a series of drabbles about them in different situations. I'll start posting them more from now on(hopefully).

There’s a bit of an age difference, but not so different here. Peter is 28, while Percival is 36 in this AU. So prepare for the 'you're too young to be with me' excuse. Actually, there's a lot of excuses Percival could come up with.

You can find works and drabbles related to them in my Peter/Percival tag.

[softxsuki]

Celebrating Your Birthday With Zeno

Pairing: Zeno x Fem!Reader

Warnings: little bit of angsty thoughts, nothing crazy though

Genre: Fluff

Post-Type: Drabble

Word Count: 860

Summary: In which you're in a field of wildflowers with Zeno on your birthday

[A/N: For the special birthday girl, @kyanma137!! Happy Birthday <33 I hope you enjoy this, I wanted to do one last little thing for your birthday so I hope this makes you happy <3 Enjoy :D ]

A gust of wind blows over the field of wildflowers you were currently sitting in. You squeeze your eyes closed as the breeze reaches you, blowing your hair wildly across your face. A small giggle escapes your boyfriends’ lips as his hair also moves with the wind.

“Cute~,” Zeno smiles, tilting his head at you, reaching over to brush your hair back in place, “You look like an angel.”

Heat reaches your cheeks, instinctively leaning into his touch, but feeling shy all of a sudden. Zeno was never low on compliments towards you, it was something you were still getting used to even after a year of dating.

“Stop~,” You shyly whine, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, now in his embrace as he holds you close.

You had both stepped away from the Happy Hungry Bunch for a few hours, just enjoying quality time together; talking about your hopes and dreams, your thoughts, your future. Zeno never missed an opportunity to have you all to himself so he was making the most of your time together in the empty field of wildflowers. 

Wildflowers–they kind of reminded him of himself. Left to fend for themselves in a field, no one to de-weed them or water them–just leaving it up to nature. But they turned out alright, and they were as beautiful as any flower you could buy from the local market.

Removing yourself from Zeno’s arms, much to his dismay, you lie down in the grass, staring up at the clouds as your boyfriend occupied himself with the flowers nearby, fiddling with a few of them. It was a fairly sunny day, nice and cool out–perfect weather, not too hot and not too cold. A beautiful day to be celebrating your birthday. Another year older…

You wondered sometimes what you would do the older you got. Would Zeno be okay? He can’t die, so what would he do? You hated the idea of leaving him behind to be alone again. You knew what he went through for almost 2000 years, you didn’t want that to happen again. But you had both come to an agreement–you’d make the most of your days together with a smile, enjoying every second you had with each other.

You sigh to yourself, trying to shake those thoughts out of your head when Zeno’s face appears above you.

“Hm?”

With one hand behind his back, he sticks his other hand out for you to take, pulling you up so you are now sitting instead of lying down. 

“Close your eyes,” he softly instructs.

You follow his instructions without a word, closing your eyes as another breeze blows over you. He shuffles a bit and you hear him plop onto the grass in front of you.

“Okay open them,” he sounds excited.

You open your eyes, blinking a few times, allowing them to focus on what was in his hands–a flower crown. Your mouth flies open, a tiny gasp leaving your lips.

“What’s this?” You ask in awe, reaching for the beautiful flower crown in his hands.

“Happy Birthday,” he smiles, excited from your reaction, “Zeno made it just now. They’re thunbergia alata (let’s pretend like these flowers grow in fields okay)! They symbolize encouragement; they’re super adaptable and strong, just like you. They remind Zeno of you–absolutely gorgeous.”

You were at a loss for words. You knew Zeno was smooth, he was beyond wise, and just always had the right words to say to you. “Thank you,” your voice wobbles, tears beginning to brim your eyes. No one had ever been so sweet to you, and you were beyond blessed to have a man like Zeno in your life now. Someone who always reminded you of your worth when you couldn’t see it for yourself. 

“Aww, pretty girl, don’t cry,” he coo’s wiping your tears away, “C’mon, put it on, Zeno wants to see how it looks!”

You laugh a bit at his excitement, placing the flower crown swiftly onto your head and turn to him again, “How does it look?”

His eyes could have been mistaken for stars at the sparkles that lit up in them.

“Perfect, just like Zeno thought,” He attacks you once again with a hug, the both of you falling back onto the grass as he peppers your face with kisses, repeatedly calling you his ‘pretty angel,’ not that you were complaining as giggles erupted from you. 

“Y/N, Zeno! Yoon finished cooking! The celebration is about to begin! C’mon birthday girl!” Yona calls to the both of you from the camp set-up not too far away, making Zeno pause his kiss attack.

“Coming!” You shout back, getting back to your feet with the help of your lover. 

“Shall we?” He asks, holding an inviting hand out to you.

“We shall,” you smile, interlacing your fingers together and rushing off back to camp where your friends were getting rowdy.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N!” They all shout as soon as you arrive, hand in hand with Zeno.

It turned out to be a successful celebration as you were surrounded by your friends and the love of your life–things couldn't have been more perfect.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 2/12/2023