#HOPE THIS IS ENOUGH <3333

[seungkwan-s]

this man. who is he. is he married. does he have kids. am i hotter than his wife. give me the lore.

PUTTING THIS UNDER A READ MORE

AAAA i get to talk about dougie, ok here we go

so that's dougie poynter, he's 35 (36 on nov 30th) and is the bassist (HE DOES SING AS WELL THO - ANGELIC VOICE FR) for my absolute favourite band of the last 19 years - mcfly <3 he doesn't have a wife or kids but apparently he is in a relationship?? ur hotter than everyone

he's literally my absolute favourite person, he's a weirdo, he's chaotic af but he's my chaotic weirdo. he once got us to chant PENIS! at a gig 9 years ago :')

he also has a looooot of ink.

mcfly do have three other members - danny, harry + tom. the whole band are gorgeous and hella hella talented af. i've seen them 33 times but who's counting 😭

THEY WERE ALSO IN A MOVIE WITH LINDSAY LOHAN AND CHRIS PINE, IT'S CALLED JUST MY LUCK 💕

dougie was also in a tv series called i'm a celebrity get me out of here AND HE WON AS HE SHOULD HAVE HE WAS PERFECT.

i would say try not to fall in love with him but it seems like you already have so good luck to you <333

if you wanna listen to them, here's some song recs:

5 colours in her hair (their debut song!!) happiness (this song is everything 2 me, they are my happiness) red (amazing amazing AMAZINGGGG, so much fun to dance to at gigs) where did all the guitars go (this is from their recent album, and is suuuper rocky) route 55 (my fav song from the new album) god of rock & roll (also from their recent album) all about you (one of their best songs, it's always on their setlist) star girl (also a song always on their setlists) growing up (it's got MARK HOPPUS ON IT) that's the truth (makes me cry every time) everybody knows (ICONIC) party girl (they went for a kinda poppier sound but it WORKS WITH THEM) do watcha (this is by FAR one of my top 3 favourite songs, i love the sound so much, dougie sings in this one too, he doesn't sing the second verse) with consent i would do whatever i want to him hahahaha friday night (one of my absolute fav songs, they played it last night and i almost lost my shit even tho i already knew they were playing it) love is on the radio (i LOOOOOVE this song and the mv) forever's not enough (i jumped so much to this last night, i pissed off the girl behind me oops - we were standing I WANTED TO DANCE)

okay lmk how you get on <3

p.s. if you ever get a chance to see them live, GO, genuinely the best live concert i've ever been to, they always make sure fans have fun at their gigs and go home with a smile on their faces :)

[upperranktwo]

☆Tomura Shigaraki☆

Happy Birthday Adrienne ♡ @tenkoushimura​

[onegani]

merry bloomicmas

[delzinrowe]

happy valentine's day ღ to favourite yuji girlie @glassrunner

[spaceratprodigy]

doodled the science club hehe 🥺 they're helping low go through a breakdown or smth

i swear i'll finish this at some point btw

RED OHMYGODDD LOOK AT THEM!!!!!

I wish you could see the smile on my face rn omg I'M GONNA BE STARING AT THIS ALL DAY LOOOOOOONNGGGGG 💕💖😩💖💕

[eremin0109]

So Episode 8 was a...LOT. Like it solidified the relationship between Do young and Dong soo by LITERALLY forging it in blood and shaked up their power dynamic a bit by having Do young call Dong soo and himself "True Partners" (gay as fuck) but it also gave me the dreadful feeling that all of this is going to fall apart terribly.

The one thing that was unintentionally hilarious for me was the penultimate scene where Do young puts the knife between Dong soo and Moon Sang guk and asks them to fight to death.

Like girl, wasn't it you that personally walked your ass to the hospital to save Dong soo from getting killed like an episode ago??? So you want me to believe you'd just let him die like this? Sure, jan.

[aeb-art]

so i made myself sad with this one actually oopsies

mall toons belong to @8um8le 🙇

[seoafin]

Can I share something? Something so insane happened because today, my younger sister hesitantly told me she wrote fanfic and also hesitantly let me read one of her works. I’m not surprised that she’s going off and expressing her creativity in a way similar to how I did at the same age, but what the fuck? The way she wrote was? So? Insane? Crazy? Are you even fourteen? When I was her age, I was writing really bad MHA fanfics with horrid plots 😭

Told me this: “its just brainrot ahahaha kinda cringe” but when I read it I was Genuinely astonished. I hope she never loses this passion, even though she might find it cringe. I feel insanely proud :’) sorry for the happy rant hehe

one of the best fics i ever read in my life was written by a 16 year old who lived in indonesia like i definitely believe it

[fightwing]

trade offer: i receive: a like you receive: a million little memes in ur inbox

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: A Truly Slothful Start

*points at Erebus* Bro is NOT built for this lmao (btw I drew the sloth demon a v long time ago enjoy)

Suggested battle music: Grandma (Destruction) from NieR: Automata (spotify | youtube)

←Previous - Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: combat whump we fight monster, amputation hehe (not gory tho!), slight drowning, undescribed eye whump

PART III: Untitled World

The things that hit him first were the suffocating darkness and the awful chill in the air.

Erebus knew he didn’t belong here. All around him, strange rock formations jutted out every which way, no sign of life among them. There didn’t seem to be any source of light, and yet everything was clearly visible, casting hardly any shadow. The silence was nearly absolute, pressing in on his ears. The only thing he could hear was the freakishly loud sound of his own heartbeat, amplified by the collar around his neck.

Wait, the collar-he reached up for it, fingers closing around the awful strip of leather that he’d been forced to wear since the start of his captivity. He had a sword, he had claws, and N...no one would make him wear another one if he broke it. So he should take it off, right? He should destroy it. He’d always hated it, the way it meant he was owned, how it let-let people put leashes on him and lead him around like a dog. She...she’d said it herself, that he had to wear it so he wouldn’t forget that he belonged to her, but now they were...not together. So it shouldn’t matter. 

But he couldn’t stop thinking about when she’d taken it off for the procedure with the envy demon, about how utterly, embarrassingly exposed he’d felt without that stupid collar. Maybe the feeling would pass, and he would just have to get used to being without it. He hadn’t worn one for the vast majority of his life, so it should be easy to adjust back, right? Besides, it was more than just a collar, it was a way for her to know if someone other than her was touching him, and that was violating, it was...it was a way for her to know he was alive. Assuming it worked, assuming whatever signal it was could be sent to another world.

Erebus lowered his hands, still chained together, as he blinked away tears. He-he was really here, in this other world with only a slim chance of ever going back. He’d take every tie to his old life he could get, no matter how painful. And if the spell on the collar worked, then…he owed it to her to let her know he was still alive. He could wear the collar for a little while longer. The muzzle, on the other hand...he didn’t mind tearing that off and throwing it away in the slightest.

Shakily, he stood, grabbing the sheathed sword in front of him. Being expected to fight was…strange. But, looking at himself now, he was practically designed for this, almost every modification giving him some sort of advantage. It made his blood run cold to think about how this had been the plan from the start, how obvious it seemed now. He wanted to lay down and sob and process what had happened, but everything was so different and strange that he didn’t feel safe enough to let his guard down like that. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he buckled the sword belt around his waist and began looking around.

Behind where he’d appeared, there was a bag lying on the ground. Inside was a cloak with holes for his wings, a knife, and a bedroll. Well, better than nothing, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about food and water or lighting a fire. Maybe that demon tongue would be coming in handy, after all. He put on the cloak, grateful to have something to help him keep warm in this place, along with the shoes he still had on from their trip to the desert.

Nothing else here, he began carefully making his way along one of the stone cliffs, leaning on it since there had never been a chance to fully heal the gash in his leg. Progress was slow, and maybe it would have been a good time to think things through, but he couldn’t stop tears from forming in his eyes at the mere thought of what had happened, so instead he just focused on the pain in his leg, flaring up brighter with every step.

Time felt impossible to grasp, as if this place was outside of it entirely, but at some point Erebus reached the end of the maze of stone. He was greeted with what looked like a vast ocean, but the water was unnaturally calm, not a single ripple on the glass-like surface. Had there been stars above, it would have been beautiful, but under the canopy of uniform blackness, it just looked like a cold, empty void. 

Erebus hesitated to step out in the open, no walls to protect him, but the silence was so absolute that he couldn’t imagine there was another living thing anywhere near him. His leg didn’t hurt quite as much anymore despite how much he’d been walking, so he was able to hobble to the water’s edge and investigate, setting the pack down to make moving around a little easier. The sword, however, still hung at his side, just in case. 

The water was clear, and as far as he could tell, there was no sign of life in it whatsoever. It was jarringly different from the seaside at home, where you could hardly take a step without spotting a shellfish or aquatic plant. Here, it was just pebbles, no broken shells or bits of dead coral among them. He crouched and dipped a finger in, finding the water both cold and salty. The ripples created by his finger traveled far, seeming to get bigger as they traveled along. Suddenly, even bigger ripples rushed to meet them from farther out, and Erebus’s stomach knotted in terror as he bolted upright, pulling out the sword, having to hold it with both hands since they were still chained.

He strained his eyes in the darkness, looking for whatever had caused the disturbance. Was that...there was something  in the water out there, he was sure of it. He took a few steps back, sword still held in front of him, watching the strange shape grow larger and larger as it approached. The moment the tip of its nose emerged, the surface of the water erupted, spraying Erebus with cold mist and shooting tendrils out into the open air that coalesced into a large sort of web. Arches of water now crisscrossed all throughout the space, severely limiting how much he could fly around, especially since he never had a chance to practice it much. In the middle of the watery network was a large bubble, and when he saw what was inside it, Erebus’s jaw dropped.

The creature was enormous, big enough to swallow him whole in one bite. Its pale gray body was long, with two pairs of flippers that were almost as big as Erebus and a webbed, spiny ridge going down its back. A cruel, curved hook jutted out from the end of its tail, almost as sharp-looking as its conical teeth. As Erebus looked at it in horror, it turned its gaze to him, its blank white eyes staring into his own identical pair. So this…this must be a sloth demon. He was supposed to fight that? 

He could leave, just run and hide, this thing couldn’t follow him through those rocky canyons, he could stop and take a moment to think, but this was an enemy right in front of him, and no matter how terrifying, it had revealed itself, no more surprises. Erebus tightened his grip. If he could-could beat this thing then he could really rest. It would be safe here. He would be that much closer to going h…somewhere that wasn’t here. He could do this. He had to.

Despite how much he was shaking, Erebus took flight and approached, finding it difficult to do so while he was holding the sword, but not enough for him to fall out of the air. The demon just watched as he flew past the jets of water, and Erebus hated those blank white eyes boring into him, which just made him loathe his own all that much more. How…how exactly was he supposed to attack it? It was so huge and he couldn’t see any kind of obvious weakness, not to mention that it was surrounded by a sphere of water. While he knew his eyes worked underwater, he could only imagine his wings would be a hindrance, not to mention the heavy sword. 

Maybe…maybe he should just retreat for now. Come up with a plan and come back. This was just…it was too much. Reassuring himself that the demon couldn’t follow him, he cautiously turned around and started to weave his way through the tendrils of-there was a sharp jerk on his wing, and suddenly Erebus was being dragged through the air, crashing into pillars of water as he went, barely registering the splash of his sword hitting the sea below as he scrambled to get his wing free of-of-it was that hook it was pierced through the top of Erebus’s wing he couldn’t get it out his fingers were slippery and freezing and useless he had to do something kick his legs flap his wings anything-

Just as those awful teeth came into view, Erebus managed to swing himself back, but the chain on his wrists was caught, wrapped around a tooth, his fall jerked to a halt, he was hanging by his wrists, the hook was gone but his wing wouldn’t work, he had to do something, that eye was so big and so close, watching him struggle, the beast’s throat humming with an ancient growl, hungry, he couldn’t just let this happen, he grabbed the tooth with his left hand and the chain with his right, he could do this, pull himself up enough to-

The great jaws snapped shut, and Erebus tumbled into the water below. 

Cold shocked his system, despite the fact that his left arm felt like it was on fire. 

He couldn’t stay down here. He had to get to the surface.

But, down there, a faint glint. Metal. His sword. His only hope of winning.

He swam towards it, progress slow and painful and-

His left hand was gone. 

There wasn’t time to mourn it. 

His remaining hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword. It was heavy, too heavy for him to swim up with. 

He was running out of air. He had to try. This couldn’t be the end. Not here. Not so soon after-

The hook pierced through his wing again, and it was all he could do to hold onto his sword this time around.

The sloth demon pulled him up and out of the water with its tail, tossing him high into the air as it opened its great jaws to swallow him whole. His wings torn and useless, all Erebus could do was flap them desperately and hope it would be enough, hope he could at least-his foot landed on one of those teeth, holding him for just a moment before he slipped, but it was enough to aim his sword hold it steady launch himself down drive that point right down into the demon’s eye paint that awful soulless white with red hear the roar of agony so loud he could feel it in his bones and now the water was collapsing falling back down the great corpse falling with it he had to get away wrench the sword out jump back splash into the water struggle to the surface to the shore drag himself out of the water collapse on the shore and breathe.

He-he’d won, but just barely, and the losses were-Erebus bit back tears, looking away from the ragged stump at the end of his left arm. There was no way he could survive six more fights like that.

This horrible, hostile place was going to destroy him, and there would be nothing left of him to go back home.

Next→

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump @mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump @unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump @redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog @whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910 @whumpinggrounds @pumpkin-spice-whump @suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet​ @pumpkinsncoffee​ @aryreads​

[boyjoan]

hi lover. i demand a lame thing in my name 🤲🏻

MY KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOUR MY LOVER MY DARLING!! YOUR lame thing is i would offer to light your cigarette very suave very sophisticated....and then i would struggle to get the lighter going for like 20 mins until eventually i pull out a box of matches and strike your fag with a real match. Which works! But is very impractical. Also the whole time the lapel of my jacket is on fire from the lighter <3

[lighthouseas]

written in my phone notes app not betaed not edited etc etc lol based on this post

there is *1* dirty joke in here but i think we can put on our big kid shoes and handle it yeah? we can agree teenagers are horny? if not then scroll past :)) kisses xx

It's a Saturday in January.

Mike likes Saturdays, mainly because Holly has dance practice on Saturdays, and his dad has work, and Nancy has homework - so, more or less, he has the house to himself.

Logistically speaking, he could invite Lucas or Dustin or maybe even Max over so he could have some company, but he doesn't really feel like it. He never really feels like it, nowadays, which he knows is cause for concern - but it just doesn't feel right anymore, hanging out with the Party with two missing.

So. Saturdays are for Mike and Mike only.

He has homework to do. Homework which he really should be doing considering he's bordering on getting a C in his algebra class, which he knows is unlike him. Instead, though, he's slumped across the La-Z-Boy (which is now vacant due to his father being at work), spooning Cheerios into his face and only half paying attention to whatever was showing on the television. He's kind of tired, even though he woke up fairly late. His eyes droop lazily. He thinks that, maybe, he'll just drift off - no one's here to stop him - when a knock sounds at the door.

Mike shoots up, nearly spilling milk onto the carpet as he does so. This is odd: it's rare someone comes to the Wheeler house unannounced, which is mostly due to his mother's adamant demands to keep the house clean when guests are over.

It could be Max; she has a tendency to walk into his house, grab food from his fridge, and then ask if he wants to play video games without missing a beat (hence why his mother has grown to have such a distaste for her). Or maybe it's Lucas, who lives next door and comes over sometimes for homework answers. It couldn't be Dustin, though, since he lives across town and has never seen 11 AM on a Saturday (he like sleeping in).

Maybe it's the mailman. Which is equally weird, considering he could've just left whatever package he had on the doorstep. Mike ambles over to the door, Cheerios still in hand and flannel pajama pants hanging off of his hip. He's wearing a faded Queen t-shirt that has definitely seen better days, but he figures it doesn't really matter. The person - whoever it is - probably won't be here for long and won't care if Mike looks utterly disheveled.

He swings the door open, and is immediately proven wrong.

It is not Max. Or Lucas. Or Dustin. Or, hell, even the mailman.

Mike has never seen this boy in his life, and, in that moment, he's kind of glad he hasn't.

He's a jock, for sure. Probably on the football team. His biceps are fairly defined through the long sleeved white shirt he's wearing. Actually, scratch that, his entire fucking body is basically protruding through his shirt, almost like he isn't even wearing one. He definitely has - what - Mike's eyes dart down to his stomach - a six pack. Definitely. Mike's heart does a weird palpitation, and he suddenly realizes it's getting hard for him to breathe.

Oh, God.

He looks like shit.

"Hello?" The boy waves a hand in front of Mike's face. "Uh - is Nancy here?"

Mike's eyes drift upwards - because, somehow, this boy is taller than him even though Mike knows he's nearing on 6 feet - and he's met by obnoxiously shiny brown eyes and sandy brown hair that's swept to the side, like - like this boy got all dressed up to come over here, and that triggers many fantasies in Mike's head that he'd prefer not to dwell upon-

"Hey. Kid." The boy snaps his fingers. He sounds annoyed, now. Mike should probably pay attention.

"I-" Mike croaks, because his tounge suddenly feels like sandpaper, "sorry, what?"

"Nancy. Is she your sister?"

Oh.

Oh. Of fucking course.

Mike had conveniently forgotten that Nancy had taken on a tutoring gig at her school. This was mostly due to the fact that, whenever Nancy had her tutees come over to the house, it was during weekdays - never weekends.

So this boy - this - this boy, this unbelievably jacked boy had showed up, unannounced at the Wheeler doorstep, and was now looking for his sister.

Let him inside let him inside let him inside let him-

"I'm Mike," Mike blurts, and he kind of wants to smack himself. "Nancy is. Um. Nancy is my sister. Are you-" the boy moves to lean against the doorframe, his bicep flexing as he does so, and Mike is thanking the stars above that he's wearing the loosest pair of pajama pants that he owns. His question comes out in a squeak. "....looking for her?"

No SHIT he's looking for her. He ASKED for her, you absolute dumba-

The boy squints. "I'm Alex." the boy extends a hand. Mike shakes it - his hand is cold to the touch. Mike hopes it's impossible to detect the heart palpitations he is currently experiencing. "And...yes, I am looking for - oh, thank God, there you are."

Mike feels his sister's hand shove him out of the doorframe, but he's still staring. He probably looks bug eyed. His Cheerios have gone completely soggy, but he can't bring himself to care. He backwards walks back towards the La-Z-Boy. If Alex is a magnet, then Mike's eyes must be made of pure iron.

"...so sorry Alex, that's just my little brother-"

Mike hears snippets of their conversation from where he has resituated himself on the couch. Nancy is probably going to yell at him for being "impolite" later.

He tries to turn his focus back to the TV - really, he does - but - Alex's voice is so soft, like caramel, and okay, what the fuck, Mike. You were totally weird.

Mike shifts, curling his knees up to his chest. Alex and Nancy have gone to the dining room to study for - was it an English test? Maybe.

Whatever.

Mike is beginning to rethink his philosophy about Saturdays.

[livelaughlovelams]

guess who *finally* downloaded the Du Ponceau biography :D

yeah pretty disappointing of me I know

anyways have a lovely day

OMG YAYAYYAYA

AT LEAST YOU DID IT♥️♥️♥️

We are proud of you ♥️😔✊🫶👍😭🥹😰😰🗣️👨‍👨‍👧‍👧🇬🇧🌶️💀☕😮😲🌄🌎✅🥇🎹👨‍❤️‍👨🎸🌱🏹😜😋😛🖤💔😘🏳️‍🌈😁👹😝🤪

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <33

[mickmundy]

50 or 74 would be cute! 🥺(Kiss prompts)

oohohoo... >:) you are so right! shall we? these are Mini Fics so i'm going to stick them under a cut; apologies in advance for Potentially Ass Formatting KSDKFSDKF

50. kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing

Medic knew better than to try and distract Sniper while he was training. Honing that aim of his was just as important as Medic fine-tuning his uber technology... not that the doctor particularly cared about either of their mercenary legacies at the moment. He had his fingers laced loosely around Sniper's middle, resting against his belly as the sharpshooter was perched in his lap.

Medic knew this was also the kind of training Sniper enjoyed best; Engineer had gifted him some kind of contraption that shot little frisbee's into the air of various sizes and at various speeds so that Sniper could shoot them down with the deadly accuracy that the team had come to expect of him. His hat sat on the crate beside them as his mouth found the salty-with-sweat skin at the back of his neck, pressing chaste kisses to it and feeling Sniper go rigid for a moment, suppressing a shudder. Medic smirked against his skin, making the bushman heave a sigh, followed by a low hum. "Dovey," he warned, which only made his lover smile wider.

The doctor drew in an excited breath as Sniper's shoulders tensed, bracing as he took a shot, his ears ringing as he heard the TING! of one of the little objects being shattered, nearly felt the kickback of Sniper's rifle as he pressed his chest tighter against the marksman's back. "Hmm?" Medic cooed, running his hands over Sniper's waist and triumphantly eyeing how magnificent his lover's sweaty skin looked when showcased in nothing but those white tank tops he wore when he practiced.

Sniper had invited him up here with him for some lunch (the remains of which now lay discarded beside them) and figured Medic would trot off to his lab... only to be pleasantly surprised as the doctor perched himself on a crate and pulled Sniper into his lap, all while insisting he'd behave so that his beloved could practice, of course. "I'm clearly not distracting you!" He reasoned, gnashing his teeth gently against sniper's sweaty shoulderblades, bare palms running over the damp fabric of his shirt just under his breasts. Magnificent. His breath hitched as he watched the muscles under his skin move to take another shot again, admiring the physical marvel that was his greatest achievement, and love of his life. TING!

"You always distract me," Sniper purred. If he was objecting to it, he certainly didn't seem all that inconvenienced. Medic smiled and only cooed in faux-naivety, which made the bushman chuckle, low in his chest. The doctor felt the sound rattle within him as his hands shamelessly groped his breasts and flanks, eliciting a pleased purr from Sniper's throat. "You're rotten, you know that?" He murmured tenderly, listening as Medic hummed along in agreement, too distracted by running his hands over the muscles in his shoulders as he poised himself to take another shot. Tendon and muscle and skin and fat and scars rippling underneath his fingers... have mercy! Another successful shot: TING!

"The worst?" Medic asked like a lover requesting praise, running his tongue greedily between the dip between his shoulders, along his spine, uncaring of the thin garment that separated him from Sniper's skin. Sniper rocked his hips slowly as he braced for another shot, using the roll of his hips to steady himself before shooting. TING!

"Sure as. Absolutely diabolical," he crooned, making Medic bite his own lip and giggle, giddily bucking his own hips (and Sniper's with him) at the sentiment. So romantic! His spatzchen always knew just what to say! The movement didn't hinder the marksman's performance, which only served to rile Medic up more. He adored Sniper's focus, his dedication. More hungry kisses to Sniper's rough, tanned skin, plain in their wanting as his intentions were made abundantly clear. Sniper smirked as he kept his eyes trained on his targets. "Hope you brought your mean streak," he goaded, feeing Medic's breathing stutter. That was a challenge. "'Cause I plan on being up here for a while." he mused, feeling Medic's toothy grin against the back of his neck. Who was the good doctor to back down from a challenge?

74. surprise kisses, in which your lover weren’t prepared for it but responds immediately

A radio serial that they'd only been partly listening to was the only accompaniment to the soft whirr of the medigun powering down in Medic's lab, the doctor swiveling away the ceiling-mounted contraption as he eyed his work. "And we're done! How are you feeling, my-" A clammy hand reached up, cupped the back of his neck and clumsily drew him into an attempted-tender kiss. Medic's eyes fell closed as his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, fogged up from both of their slow, content breathing. What a wonderful post-operative surprise!

Sniper tasted like morning breath as his large, typically-nimble hands pawed lazily at the doctor's broad chest, gently palming and caressing the outer curves of his breasts before traveling over his belly and wrapping around his middle. The kiss was fresh-out-of-surgery slow, the grogginess of being absolutely weightless seeping slowly out of Sniper's pores. Even his heart drummed at a consistent, not-too-erratic-yet pace, the EKG making Medic's ears ring with the proof of his beloved's precious life.

Sniper hummed a vague-sounding mhn, voice a little hoarse as his hands had since wandered up and wrapped around Medic's neck, the doctor parting his lips for their tongues to slide against one another's. What a wake-up call! "How are you feeling?" He whispered against Sniper's mouth, kissing softly at the stubble that adorned his hollow cheekbones and sharp jawline. Sniper clumsily tried to twirl the curl at Medic's crown, but couldn't quite manage the dexterity yet; capable fingers knocked uselessly, feather-lightly, against his doctor's forehead. Medic smiled fully, cooing at the intent and execution of the gesture. Perfekt.

"Better, if you'd get up here with me," the bushman frowned, "What're you doing way over there, anyway?" Way over there? Ha! The doctor was standing beside the operating table, hips flush against the cold metal edge that had since been covered with towels to keep his beloved more comfortable. He didn't like being cold, after all.

"Well," Medic mused, running a blood-stained glove through Sniper's damp, sweaty hair and rubbing his thumb over his hairline, "I was closing you up, and I was going to update your chart while you woke up, but you surprised me with quite the waking-up present!" He giggled softly, pecking his lips gently while Sniper purred happily. Guilty as charged.

"Which I wasn't done with, by the way." Sniper grunted, cupping Medic's face and bringing him into another lazy kiss. "Y'know rejoining the waking world's not easy," he yawned against Medic's lips, making the doctor giggle and nibble at the corner of his mouth, happily letting his face be cradled in his lover's rough hands. "Need a reminder'a what's worth wakin' up for," he breathed, and Medic could hear the EKG beginning to beep much more frantically. Sniper always swore he wasn't great with romance, and yet he'd say things like that. It always took Medic's breath away; it felt so personal, a love language of life and death made only for them. Sniper felt it so openly now, expressed it so freely. It made the doctor's heart clench.

"Oh, well, in that case," Medic finally said after a few moments. It wasn't often that he was at a loss for words. "I encourage you to..." Sniper's tongue slid over the doctor's bottom lip, and his train of thought promptly stopped. Michel, Michel, Michel. Sniper let out an affirmative hum; Oh, he was encouraged. And he planned on celebrating this, and every re-awakening moment he'd have in the future, by celebrating Medic, and the life he gave him.

[chaotictomtom]

aough....pain