#I started drawing this like. MONTHS AGO? LIKE FULLY BACK DURING THE WINTER

[shibopandadoodles]

Eyes in the rain, I tried to hide Tears of a boy who shouldn't cry For evermore I'll keep in mind Your memory, father of mine Farewell, my papa

[discodeviant]

One Swing, Just One Thing

Jonathan/Argyle | Teen | 3k No Upside Down, Light Angst

My take on the Cali move in the little Disco-verse I have in my head lol, please enjoy <3 <3

Read on AO3

There were a devastating number of things that Jonathan hated about Hawkins, not limited to its inseparable school boards and suffocating, tight-knit groups. The summers were disappointing at best, and still fucking cold at worst; winters bit at his nose and fingertips so harshly that he thought they’d fall right off. Hawkins was the town that molded his father into the crass, neglectful man that he was, and even he was scared off some years ago. On a whim, maybe, but Jonathan always suspected that he’d never loved their family in the first place. Joyce was too forgiving; Will was too young to know better than to think Lonnie’s disappearance was personal. Not that he went very far—only fifty minutes to Indianapolis—but it felt like he was across the ocean in a different world entirely. Jonathan hated that Hawkins had been breaking his mother to pieces ever since.

The time between then and now was a long, dull three years of absolutely nothing with some excitement sprinkled on top like glitter. Lonnie broke the divorce contract and took Will into the city for a week in eighty-two, which rendered the already-quiet kid fully mute for two months. In eighty-three, Jonathan won a fight against Steve Harrington in a back alley somewhere, which he still thought may have been a fever dream. Every punch and bruise left behind led to Nancy Wheeler leaving Steve for Jonathan in eighty-four and loving him until the summer of eighty-five, when college applications rolled around and pried them apart.

Somewhere in between, Joyce married Jim Hopper, whose daughter could move twenty times her weight with her mind, but those were details Jonathan didn’t like to think about.

California was on the horizon by July, and the five of them were driving into Lenora Hills in early August. Hopper said it wasn’t dirty money when it came from the source, but Jonathan was still wary of the whole thing. Hawkins was terrible, but it was home for eighteen years. It was familiar. It was where he taught Will how to ride a bike, and where he took his mother’s new wedding photos during the not-ceremony they held in front of Castle Byers. Just Will’s friends and their parents, Steve and Nancy somehow, and that was all they needed. Hawkins was every waking moment of Jonathan’s life, gone in a flash—it felt that way when he started school again.

Hawkins wasn’t creative with name-calling either. Freak was thrown around for both Byers boys, and another kid in some of Jonathan’s classes. Fuck up when the tapes he had for a middle school play were sabotaged and left for him to take the blame. Fairy caught on after Harrington called him a queer in front of Tommy Hagan (that was before Jonathan kicked his ass), and it hit a little too deep, that one. Lonnie used to say that about Will when he was around. Freak and fag and fairy and good-for-nothing fruit—F-words haunted him.

In California, though, Jonathan was little more than a ghost, and he was happy to keep it that way. He didn’t draw attention to himself or talk to anyone outside of class, and even then he stuck to his desk mates, but he was a good kid. Kind, soft-spoken like his brother, always carrying that damn camera with him so he didn’t miss anything. Californian kids weren’t as cruel as those from small-town Indiana, but they still stared. If they whispered, it was out of range. He could deal with that.

Shop class was what really threw him for a loop.

Back home, he realized that there were two types of guys who took shop: those who were interested in trade and chose to be there, and those who were put into it because they weren’t that great at anything else. Jonathan was in the former group since hands-on work was easier for him to get a handle on, and he never dreamt of going to some fancy university with top-dog academics. That was Nancy’s dream. His was simple and steady like a saw cutting through slabs of pine and the hinges holding them together. His was the freedom of choosing what wood stain to use between burned lines in the surface of a three-panel table. His was photography, in truth, but carpentry was a good fallback.

Jonathan wasn’t sure what to make of his project partner. Which kind of guy Argyle was, he really couldn’t say. On the one hand, he had a fantastic eye for measurements and made perfect cuts nearly every time, and his eyes lit up when their teacher complimented his work. He was fast too, never wasting a moment in between getting instructions and following them. On the other hand, he spoke like he was deep in outer space, and maybe he was. Argyle epitomized the doped-out beach boy with the attention span of a fruit fly in most other classes, from what Jonathan could tell. Maybe that was why he glanced in Argyle’s direction whenever he could, just for a split second of those long, long locks or proof that it was all an act. Not that he would understand why, but Argyle was a distant interest until they were told to work on a porch swing together, and he was suddenly much closer.

“Hey, so, uh… how big are we gonna make this thing?” Jonathan asked as Argyle fiddled with his pencil eraser. They sat at a table in the back, bags and papers splayed out alongside a few wooden beams that they reserved in advance. “Like… one, two people?”

Argyle looked up and nodded in thought. “Two’s cool. Or… I guess we could make it for one really big person. Or three small people.” His words sounded like they came from the long distance his eyes stared off into. Through Jonathan somehow, if that was even possible. It made him a little wary.

“Yeah, sure.”

Jonathan gazed around the room to fill the silence with something else. Other students’ chatter and sawing, hammers swinging already, a buzzsaw that went off for a few seconds. Between the boys, it was agonizing, and they mostly worked through gestures and mumbled project plans.

Throughout the week, they eased into a better conversation flow. They passed along hellos through glances in other classes, then said their heys when they made it to shop. Jonathan found himself lingering on those smiles until the next came along, and then he added that one to his mental collection. A portfolio, of sorts, of the times those smiles were accompanied by a wave or enthusiastic nod. All the while, their swing was making progress, and Argyle proved his skillful hand so much that he did most of the hard parts himself. Jonathan had fun watching.

After that weekend, they decided that Jonathan would be in charge of its more intricate designs, which he was happy to focus on. Drawing out ideas in pencil on the wood, taking Argyle’s sketches into account. And like he watched Argyle, Argyle watched him right back with intense focus. Whether the whites of his eyes were red or not, he was meticulous when filling in the lines with Gunsmoke—an orange stain they used around the edges. Once all was said and done, the swing was sanded and lathered in wax coating, and they were the first pair to finish.

“That’s one bangin’ bench, if I do say so myself.” Argyle stood with both hands on his hips, licking at his teeth as he ogled their final project. “Good work, my man.” The clap on Jonathan’s back startled him a little.

“You too, you too.”

“Hey, do you think you could help me get it out to my car later?”

“You’re taking it?”

“Yeah, man, Teach said I could. I got sisters, they’re gonna love this thing. We used to have one, but it was all grody and, like, just fell apart one day, so. Set it up there, I guess. You can come by if you want.”

“I—I don’t know—I gotta work on my paper.” Jonathan only noticed his palms were sweaty when he rubbed them down his thighs and stained the denim.

“Do it at mine, man. It’s quiet when the girls are doin’ their thing, and we can get free pizza.”

“Free pizza?” Jonathan asked, but Argyle just gave him a look that hooked and reeled like he didn’t give the line any trouble at all. “What the hell, why not.”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Argyle clapped his hands together and rubbed them so fast that an ember should have sparked and burned the place down, but maybe that was Jonathan’s nerves thinking too quickly. Before he knew it, Argyle was packing his things and walking out backwards with a pair of finger-guns pointed at him. “You and me, Byers!”

The bell rang soon after.

“A pizza van?”

“Yeah, man! Life’s way easier when I can just throw shit in the back. Plus, my manager says it’s good advertising, and I’m inclined to agree. Come on, let’s get her in there.”

They’d waited for the school crowd to pile out before carrying the swing to the end of the parking lot, where Jonathan’s earlier question was answered. With the van’s boot open, they hoisted the swing up and into the back with little struggle—which was mostly Argyle’s doing—and walked to sit up front together after closing it.

“What toppings do you like?” Argyle asked as he backed out.

“Uh… anything I guess. I’m not picky.”

“Pineapple?”

Jonathan grimaced. “Never had it.”

“Try before you deny, my friend.”

And, well, Jonathan couldn’t argue with that for a number of reasons.

Pizza first, home second—that was their order of operations, though they decided to take the food to-go instead of sitting in a loud parlor teeming with children. Jonathan paid for a sub in case he hated the pizza, which Argyle laughed at him for. Not maliciously; Jonathan was pretty sure he didn’t have a cruel bone in his body. He was too carefree for that, too laid back, too genuine. So far, anyway, and Jonathan knew he needed a friend like him even if it was too soon to say they were friends just yet. Unless it wasn’t. He didn’t know.

Friends had come and gone, and stayed gone more often than not. Will and his mom were the only two constants for so long. His middle and high school friends were temporary, Nancy was temporary, Hopper and El might have been temporary for all he knew by that point. But that was Hawkins, where he’d been a freak for sitting in the cafeteria corner even when he got there first. That was Hawkins High, where people still talked about his brother like he’d died and come back to life even though he was only gone for a week. Those people weren’t supposed to be friends to begin with, and Jonathan didn’t try to make them friends.

But this was Lenora Hills, sitting in Argyle’s pizza van that may not have been his at all, and he was so California—so unlike Indiana—that Jonathan couldn’t help smiling.

As they pulled up to the house, he asked, “Did you grow up here?”

“Born and raised, man.” Argyle said so with pride that Jonathan could only dream of. “Closer to San Jose, actually, but it’s the same shit everywhere.” He laughed, and they stepped out. “Where’d you get swept up from? Not the city.” Boot open; Argyle pulled the swing out for Jonathan to catch the end.

“No, no,” he said. “Hawkins. It was sorta close to the city, but far-fucking-from it in every other way.”

“Where’s that, Utah?” Argyle held the other end, and they walked up the grass to where a couple of A-frames were set up with a beam joining the vertices.

Jonathan chuckled. “Indiana.”

“Oh, shit, you’re like… from way-fuckin’-out there, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess. Not that exciting. At least I’ve heard of San Jose.”

“Not missing out there either, dude, but, I don’t know, maybe I was just used to it.” They set the swing down. “Green grass or some crap, whatever shit they talk about. Anyway, lemme close the van, then, uh… we’ll go in and eat. Or we can eat out here, whatever.”

Jonathan shrugged and said, “Doesn’t matter to me. I’ll grab your bag for you.” Argyle didn’t protest and brought in the pizza while Jonathan had one bag slung over each shoulder. That said, Argyle’s was more of a sack, but it fit everything he needed.

“I gotta get a new one soon,” he said as they walked into the warmth of a well-lived-in home. Something about it reminded Jonathan of the house in Hawkins. Small but cozy and littered with half-filled coloring pages, toys on the floor, a bottle of glitter tipped over on a shelf. It smelled like honey and spice wrapped into a billowing fire, but that was in the walls and rugs on the floor. That was Argyle.

A TV sat on the coffee table in the living room, which merged with the kitchen so Argyle could turn it on while he got a couple of plates out. “Take a seat, man, my couch is your couch. And, lucky for us, it seems we’ve got the house to ourselves for another couple hours at least, so no noisy children to deal with.”

“Where is everybody?”

“Uh… today’s Friday?” Jonathan nodded. “Dad’s workin’ late, so they’re with abuela for the night. She’s up, uh—near that lake up there.”

“That’s cool.”

“Anyway…” Argyle carried the pizza box to the couch with a plate on top for each of them. Jonathan had already put their drinks on the table. “Bon appétit, my dude,” he said, holding up his slice of Hawaiian, an invitation for a toast. Jonathan met it with his own and sunk his teeth in, expecting the worst, but he was pleasantly surprised. “See?”

They both said in unison, “Try before you deny.”

“Jesus, that’s fucking good.”

“Thank those Hawaiians, man.”

“Ugh—thank you, Hawaiians—mm…”

A short while after letting their food settle, the guys went back outside to set up the swing before it got too dark. Argyle had some chains that he hooked through the arms and base before hanging it with Jonathan’s help. He didn’t do much, but it was enough to earn a high-five anyway, so he took it in stride. When they were done, they sat on it together, both just fitting so their knees touched, but it was comfortable. Jonathan was comfortable.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie to you, man, this thing could use some throw pillows,” Argyle said.

“You got any?”

“Yeaaaah, but I don’t feel like going back inside yet, so. Later.” Jonathan ate from a bag of gummy worms. “You smoke?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes. You go ahead, I don’t mind. My parents are both chimneys.”

So Argyle fished around in his pocket and pulled out a smoke that was a little worse for wear, from what Jonathan could tell, but it had probably been in there all day. “You got this stuff back home, country boy?” Jonathan looked more closely at it and suddenly understood.

“Oh.”

Argyle laughed. “Is that a no?”

“No, no, I mean, we do, just… only had it a couple times. Plus, like, my mom married a cop. Literally the chief.”

“No shit! Oh, dude, you’re missing out big time.”

“I don’t know, it wasn’t that good.”

“Byers, my man… this is the real shit. Good shit. Purple Palm Tree Delight. Well worth the pennies.”

“Purple Palm Tree Delight.”

“Yessiree.” A lighter was next. Argyle flipped it open and lit the joint between his lips, Jonathan watching with a sudden draw to the smoke leaving his mouth. “You’ll like it.”

Jonathan hesitated for a moment before taking it from between Argyle’s fingers, strong and dirty from the swing work but still so tempting to touch. “One drag,” he said. It occurred to him briefly, when he put it in his mouth and took a shallow huff, that he might have been called a fairy for this too if he were back in middle school.

Side-by-side, closer to a guy than either seemed to realize as he held his lips around something that another man’s lips had already touched. Maybe Jonathan was being childish to think that they’d just kissed. Lips to joint to lips again, his one puff turned into two, then three, then an equal share as he and Argyle passed it between each other. Argyle’s lips were red by the time it was down to a nub of embers that he snuffed with dirty fingertips and dropped into the grass.

Maybe it was naive to be glad that he was in California, sitting on a swing in his new friend’s backyard—who, yes, now, Jonathan could be sure was his friend. He knew this never could have happened in Hawkins. Not the peaceful silence as the final few minutes of sunlight disappeared, not the violet-tinted delight rolling through his arms and legs and brain. Certainly not a kiss, though he wasn’t sure that would happen in California either.

Maybe it could someday, he thought. Then he wouldn’t have to pretend that indirect contact through a joint was enough. He wouldn’t have to imagine or make believe. He could just turn his head, look into Argyle’s glowing eyes in the dark, and lean in with herbal confidence to back him up.

And they’d swing.

And they’d touch.

And even now, looking at Argyle’s profile wasn’t enough to satisfy. “Is there something on my face?” he asked, and Jonathan shook his head.

“No, just… your face.” His vision blurred as his eyelids slowly flitted closed, fighting an uphill battle to keep him awake. Everything was fuzzy inside and out, and Argyle chuckled.

“Well, I can’t exactly wipe that off, now, can I?”

In Hawkins, Jonathan wouldn’t have let his arm lean enough to the side to brush against Argyle’s. In Hawkins, his head wouldn’t have been guided to a broad shoulder with another pair of legs kicking the swing into motion again. In Hawkins, he wouldn’t have been completely and totally relaxed at the mercy of someone else, but Argyle’s head falling over his own was enough to blanket the rest of him in warmth. Maybe it was his hair.

Either way, it was Argyle. He was one thing to love about California.

[pagesoflauren]

Money’s Worth - You’re Mine

soft husband!Ransom Drysdale x reader

Summary: Starting 2021 answering the question I got asked the most in 2020: “How will the reader react to learning that Ransom hooked up with someone when she was away for Christmas?”

A/N: When y’all filled out this poll, there was a 100% yes answer for a spinoff for The Highest Bidder. Well, here it is: Money’s Worth. In which Ransom is getting $50,000+ worth of experiences with his wife and child(ren). If you have more ideas, don’t be shy, drop ‘em in my ask box! I’ll update this series from time to time. 

If you were tagged in Highest Bidder, I automatically tagged you in this. If you’d like to be removed, let me know! My feelings won’t be hurt, I promise ❤️

Also, I’m sorry if your name is Amanda 🥴

Warnings: smut, swearing, jealousy, angst, daddy!kink

The Highest Bidder Masterlist

Money’s Worth Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“Darling, can you go over to the next aisle and get a couple boxes of pasta?” 

Ransom nods, even though you’re too engrossed in looking at the differences between chickpea-based and gluten-based pasta. 

His son is awake, wide eyes looking around at brightly colored food packages and fluorescent lights with a pacifier in his mouth. From what Ransom recalls of tales from when he was a baby, Harlan Jr. is more like you. Quietly observing, not kicking up too much of a fuss. 

Pinching the baby’s nose gently and coaxing a small giggle out of him, Ransom ventures over to the next aisle to find the pasta you like. 

A sharp gasp and an obnoxious “oh my God,” draws his attention. When he looks up and finds the source of the voice, his stomach gurgles with dread and annoyance. 

“All the times I’ve been here, I’ve never seen you,” she says. “What are you up to? Disappointing more girls in bed?”

Ransom weighs his options in his head. He could dig low, reminding her of all the times she was actually begging for him, or he could take the high ground, grab the pasta, and ignore her. 

He does the latter, though makes the mistake of using his left hand to do so.

“Is that a wedding band?” she scoffs. 

“Yeah, it is--” 

“Oh, Ransom, don’t get that one, we want the bigger noodles.” 

Shutting his eyes, Ransom shouts all the swear words he can think of in his mind. This is such bad timing! 

“No fucking way,” Rebecca--or is it Veronica?--scoffs. 

“Hi,” Ransom sees you give a sickeningly sweet smile and he wants to disappear into the shelves. “I’m sorry, I don’t recall ever meeting you.” 

“I’m Amanda.” 

Wow. Completely different name than the ones his mind was supplying. 

“Your husband and I know each other pretty well.” 

He can see the gears turning in your head, analyzing the situation. 

“Quite frankly, I’m not surprised about the little one. I’m sure he did the same thing to you as he did to me, just finished and decided he was done without fully getting the job done!”

You’re visibly taken aback. “I’m sorry?” 

“Oh, we just hooked up casually like, two years ago? I can’t really remember, it was during Christmas though. Hadn’t heard from him in a while and he mentioned being lonely and I figured ‘Why not?’”

“Two years ago?” you echo, looking at her, then at Ransom. 

“It was casual, I left right after,” he points out, 

“Oh, were you two together then? I’m so sorry--”

“You know what, Veronica, just get your stupid pasta or rice or whatever the fuck you’re here for and leave me and my wife in peace! Don’t you have better shit to do?!”

“It’s Amanda.”

“I don’t care.” 

Rolling her eyes, she leaves, turning on her heel and exiting the aisle. 

Ransom turns back to you and doesn’t like the thoughtful look on your face. You don’t look at him or Harlan, just at the contents in your cart. 

“Hey, don’t let whatever she said get to you. You know I love you,” he reaches for you, fingertip just grazing your cheek and you cringe away from him. 

“Just put the pasta in the cart and let’s go.” 

You’ve snapped at him before to remind him to stop completely at intersections or double check the temperature of Harlan’s bottle. You’ve never snapped at him that way, in irritation as if you can’t stand him. 

He recoils, drawing his touch away from you. “Well, just...let me get the right one.” 

“Ransom,” you deadpan, “I wanna go home. Just put the pasta in the cart and let’s. go.” 

He does as you say, carefully placing the boxes atop the other items. 

You don’t speak to him as you check out and sit in the backseat with Harlan to make sure he’s okay as he drives the three of you home. His little eyelids drop closed, completely calm despite the palpable tension between the two of you. 

Once at home, Ransom takes care of the groceries while you bring Harlan upstairs to his crib so he can continue to sleep. Just as you get him settled, you hear your husband pipe up. 

“So, can we talk about what happened at the grocery store?”

You sigh, straightening up. You cross your arms as you turn to face him. “When was the last time you saw her?” 

“When you were on winter break a few months after you had just moved in.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, a whirlpool of emotions spinning around in your chest. 

You’re angry and hurt, but you don’t know why. The two of you were just starting your sugar arrangement and it wasn’t anything deeper than that. There weren’t any feelings on your end until the following spring. 

“It wasn’t anything, it was just some hook up. She was just being a bitch because I left--”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” you interrupt him. 

You had long reconciled Ransom’s past and never held it against him. But you just cannot pin the exact reason why this revelation bothers you. 

“Look, I’m still figuring out things going on in my head. And I don’t really...I don’t really want to see you right now.” 

“I don’t understand why this is such a big deal,” he argues, “We weren’t anything. We only became a thing in July.” 

“Really?” you wonder. You weren’t going to bring this up, but it feels fair in order to get him to understand your perspective. “I had a crush on someone from my cohort.” You watch his expression shift from annoyed to surprised. “I kissed him once. In November, after I moved in with you. But it didn’t work out because I was living with you, so we decided to not do anything about it.” 

You can see the visible tinge of red on his neck. “Are you saying that just to get at me?”

“It’s the truth,” you say. “Does it bother you?” 

You can see him setting his jaw as he takes in the information. 

“But we weren’t anything, right?” you remind him of the words he spoke just minutes before. 

Ransom doesn’t say anything. He turns away and walks down the hall. You hear him going down the stairs and then the door to his office slams. 

You check on Harlan, he’s still sound asleep. Slightly relieved, you move into your bedroom and sit on the mattress. 

Ransom lets out a long-winded groan when he deletes the sentence he’s been working on for the fifty-second time in twenty minutes. 

He feels odd knowing you liked someone when you were living with him, just as the seeds of his feelings were being planted. He’s taken pride in the fact that he was the only one to have you, but turns out your heart was a better prize and that wasn’t his completely. 

He doesn’t doubt you love him and he’s certain he never has to worry about sharing you ever again, but it still bothers him. 

He scrubs his hands over his face and rubs the back of his neck. 

He remembers fights between his parents never being resolved, which resulted in their marriage slowly disintegrating into a financial arrangement than a romantic relationship. 

He knows you late at night when you’re both hungry; knows you pregnant and crying over hermit crabs while watching nature documentaries; knows you between his arms and keeping him warm, making him feel safe and loved when he felt he didn’t deserve it. He doesn’t want this to turn into anything close to the example of marriage he saw growing up. 

Shutting his laptop, he gets up and marches to the door. When he yanks it open, you’re standing there. 

“What are you doing?” 

You look caught, as if you’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be. “I...I wanted to talk. Unless you don’t want to.”

You begin to leave and he grabs your arm. “No, let’s talk.” 

Stepping into the room feels reminiscent of walking into his office at the publishing house for the first time. You’re not comfortable entering this territory. 

Hugging your arms around your middle, making yourself look as small as you feel, you decide to just be forward. Your words come out sheepishly, “I just...I didn’t like knowing the moment I was gone, you went out and replaced me. Even if we didn’t have an exclusive label. And, I just thought, like, I realize it doesn’t matter because we’re married. And like you said, I know you love me. But, I don’t know. Just didn’t sit right with me.” 

Ransom sighs, shaking his head. “I wasn’t replacing you or anything like that. I...I saw a change in myself from just having you with me for a few months. But I thought you’d leave as soon as you got the opportunity,” he uses a large sweeping gesture as if he’s picturing you leaving all over again. “And I’d…” he hesitates, hand up by his head before his arm goes slack, “be back to my shitty normal self.” 

It’s different now with the explanation, and you wish you had been in the mindset to listen to him earlier instead of hurt him.

“And I get it. Knowing you had a crush on some guy doesn’t sit right with me either. I just,” he looks up and distantly, “I wonder what he had. What made you like him but then you were fine with nothing happening and then you started liking me?” 

“Neither of us were ready for a relationship at the time. We had just started and our first semester was crazy.” You take your turn to explain. “And feelings just come and go sometimes. I saw him again in February and it just...wasn’t there.” 

He takes in your strikingly simpler explanation, understanding your reference to fleeting feelings that are gone almost as quickly as they appear. 

“I’m sorry, Ransom. I shouldn’t have said anything about that. It was so stupid and it really didn’t mean anything--”

“Neither did Amanda.” 

“I…” you trail off, not knowing what to say. 

“I wasn’t being very understanding earlier when you first said it bothered you. You were just trying to get me to know your side of things.” 

“Doesn’t make it right,” you counter. “I really am so sorry.” 

Ransom smiles and laughs to himself. He still doesn’t know how to accept an apology. He sighs, reaching for you. “How long do you think junior will be asleep?” 

“Could be an hour, maybe two,” you answer as he draws you closer with a hand around your waist. 

“Think that’s plenty of time for us to make it up to each other.”

“Technically I need to make it up to you,” you correct him as you take his hand. “And I know how I want to.” 

You lead him back around his desk, ushering him to sit in his chair. It’s large with dark blue velvet, providing enough room for you too and straddle his lap. 

You dive for his mouth, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. 

His left hand comes to cradle your jaw, keeping your lips locked onto his, while his right hand drifts down your back to cup your bottom. 

You grind your core against his, smiling when you feel his hips jut up to yours. Tilting your head you give a tentative lick into his mouth. He opens up, bringing his tongue in to play with yours. 

It reminds you of how it was when it started; being shy  and letting him take the lead. You haven’t fallen into this cloudy headspace in a long time, but it feels so good that when you pull back and gasp the word “daddy,” it feels so natural. 

Ransom, on the other hand, is taken aback. He’s gotten used to you calling him “darling” or other terms of endearment. Hearing you call him that awakens something that had long gone into hibernation; and he wasn’t sure if it would ever see the light of day again. 

But like you, he slips into the space, creating a firm grip on your ass as a smirk appears on his face. 

“Wanna call me ‘daddy,’ baby? Hm?” he taunts. Your eyes are wide and doey, feigning innocence when he knows you’re far from it now. “Well, guess we can do that. We’ll make up for that night I wasted on someone else.” 

He watches your brows furrow and eyes squint in anger. Your hands slide into his hair, fingers tightening in the tresses. It creates a pull on his scalp, something he enjoys. “You’re mine, daddy,” you whisper just before your lips are on his again, kissing him harder than before, certain to bruise. 

You pull away and lean down to nip at his neck, hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You pop the button and undo the zipper unceremoniously. 

You remove yourself from his lap only to kneel between his legs on the carpet, pulling his jeans down to his knees. His boxers are quick to follow, revealing his hardening member. You grasp it, giving it a few squeezes and tugs the way you know he likes, watching his head loll back against the back of his chair. 

“This is mine, too,” you say. 

“Yeah?” he pants, looking down at you. A hand grazes through your hair, stopping at the back of your head. “My cock only belongs to you?” 

You nod, working him with more determination. 

“Then take it, baby.” 

You practically lunge for it, leaning forward to take him into your mouth, lips spreading to accommodate his girth. 

You’re satisfied with the sound Ransom makes, something between pained and blissful. He eggs you on, gathering your hair into a ponytail secured with his hand as he guides you to take more and withdraw in rhythm. 

You want him to finish in your mouth, but he pulls you off him and makes to lift you back onto his lap. You stand, already shimmying out of your bottoms. 

Straddling him again, you focus your attention down to poise yourself just above the head of him. 

He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and makes you look at him before crashing his lips on yours once more. 

“Take what’s yours, baby. It’ll always be yours,” he whispers. 

You sink down, crying out at the feeling of him within you. The doctor had just given you the green light to resume sex as normal after Harlan’s birth weeks ago, but you haven’t been able to find a lot of time to tangle with each other without your baby or Ransom’s book needing attention. 

Ransom appears to have an equally hazy feeling, looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes. You straighten up slightly until just the tip of him is in and lower yourself again. 

It’s so much for the both of you that his hands come to your waist and he guides your pace. “Slow,” he instructs you. 

You obey, finding a steady pattern as you build a climax for the both of you. Coaxing your hips the slightest bit forward, Ransom sinks all the way to reach that spot within you that makes you see stars. 

“Like that, baby?” he taunts you again, moving your hips up and down his length. “Tell daddy.” 

“Yes,” you gasp, “Just like that, daddy.” 

He works you until you’re nearing your end, tightening and pulsing around him to bring on his orgasm as well. Just as you’re about to fall over the edge, he taps below your eyes, a silent request for you to look at him. 

Your eyes meet his and he verbalizes exactly what he’s thinking. “I’m yours,” he pants, “I’m yours, my baby, my sunshine.” You fall forward and kiss him, letting him swallow your moans and whines. “Come for me, let me show you.” 

Your body weakens in his grasp, leaning onto him for support. Your movements falter and he makes up for them, jutting his hips up until he’s finishing within you. 

You gasp at the warmth that blooms in your stomach, feeling like gravity is failing but it’s okay; Ransom’s holding onto you, keeping you grounded. 

He holds you tightly as you breathe heavily, trying to recover your strength. You sigh and your arms wrap around his shoulders. You hear him chuckle and lean back. 

“We should’ve thought this through better,” he smiles, “We gotta get upstairs and clean up.” 

You moan your disappointment. “M’tired. Can’t we just stay here a bit?” 

Moving your hair out of your face, he kisses your exposed forehead. “Okay, sunshine,” he agrees. “Just a few minutes.” 

Permatag: @caffiend-queen​ @fckdeusername​ @lou-la-lou​ @bangtan-serendipity​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @lovemarvelousfics​ @rainbowkisses31​ @richonne4life​ @damnndeanndamnn​ @meetmeatyourworst​ @tinyplanet-explorer​ @vivien-1211​ @unknownmystery22​ @nerdygirl8203​ @xoxabs88xox​ @mariaenchanted​ @gotnofucks​ @denisemarieangelina​ @myoxisbroken​ @kelbabyblue​ @pspice639​ @maynay43​

Chris tag: @onetwo3000​ @patzammit​ @astheworlddturns​ @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @maeleeme​ @tvckerlance​ @thiskindahotkindamusic​

Ransom tag: @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​

Highest Bidder Taglist: @imanuglywombat @sapphirescrolls @just-another-wretched-egg @ladynightshade30 @angstsfordays @icanfeelastormbrewing @buckysteveloki-me @what-is-your-plan-today @geniedetails @twittytelly @an-awkward-human-1 @fanfiction-trashpile @jtargaryen18 @donutloverxo @princess-evans-addict @asiaaisa77 @kelbabyblue @my-emotional-self @saiyanprincessswanie @captainchrisstan @buchanansebba @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @andiebell2023 @avengerraven1023 @dahkness @saiyanprincessswanie@sllooney @sheerfreesia007 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @suzieqsez @edge-ofparadise @bellaireland1981  @tinystudentfirepurse @opheliadawnwalker3 @siggy85 @thatweirdwalangpake @captain-asthmatic @mery-be @isaxhorror @everythingisoverrated @imboredat2am @tsunderebae009 @arseofrivia @alexakeyloveloki @heyarely16 @empower-bi-women @buckaro0 @readermia @bubbaduck33 @ssworldofsw @woah-kanda @itgetsdarksometimes35 @pinkshenanigan @sweetwaterprincess @mrsenos08 @flowersnbeer  @syms-things-5 @leahedgehog @chase-your-dreams-away @my-dirty-spot @what-is-your-wish @candy-and-writing @shayrey @princessofdarkwinter @denisemarieangelina @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @ornella0910 @hailmary-yramliah @justlovelifeblog @wxstedhexrt @taketimeandappreciate @abundanceofcarolines @cassim297 @rachellovesharry @orenjineki @heyitsmeimdead @omgkatinka @mandiiblanche @mrsdeanwinchester19 @wtfevenismypage @nannies-dont-date @cockslut-padalecki @buckysknifecollections @wth-trippy @riverscyberwife @capcevans81 @lunarmoon8 @nowigetthereference @cltex84 @x-abi-sharp-x @miss-jackson500 @corneliabarnes @rogertaylur @selinakyle373 @tuiccim @celestialblu7 @maynay43 @jennmurawski13 @miri-est-fou @pastathighs​ @capsicle-shield​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @badbo1-evans @inactivewhore​ @wandascarlett​ @saint-bvcky​ @newdaynewyearnewlife​ @arianabrashierstuff​ @goldenfightergir​ @lalalalemonade11​ @actuallygroot @smediumsmeatbae​ @may-machin​ @onelovesr​ @loustan90​ @perplexed3001​ @deafeningwritingtechnologysoul​ @rhumphr4​ @pandawalnut​ @fanngirl19​

[relaxedreptile]

Don’t Rock the Boat

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader

Sexual Content (fingering, unprotected sex, handjob... they have sex on a pool float). Swearing.

A/N: Oh my gosh! It’s been so long since I’ve posted any of my writing on here. I hope you all can forgive me, 2020 has been hectic for everyone, after all.

I have been working on this specific piece since before Summer even started this year (hence the theme) and I just finished it a few minutes ago! I’ve been working on it in between classes and during breaks and even deleted half of it at one point to rewrite. 

I hope this was worth the wait! 

I love you, all. Happy New Year!

-

The warmth of the sun soaked into your skin and bones, releasing your body from the lingering clutches of the frigid winter, rainy spring, and bleak school year. Finals week was quickly approaching so you and your friends had decided to link up at someone’s house before you were all inevitably holed up in your respective bedrooms for the next few days, studying for one exam or another. 

Chan’s house was everyone’s first (and only idea) due to the fact that he had a pool and he was nice enough to give in and host. You were excited to put yourself in a swimsuit for the first time in months and enjoy some of Chan’s mom’s incredible cooking (she always asked you guys to stay for dinner). 

You and the boys had already spent a lot of time in the pool, racing each other or playing volleyball on the little net Chan and Minho had set up before you guys got here. After having to listen to Changbin complain about his team being put in the deep end for a good hour, everyone was exhausted and had chosen their favorite pool floats or chairs to relax. 

A shadow settled over you, blocking the sun from hitting your face. You furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance, opening your eyes to see what the cause was.

One of your best friends, Hyunjin, was smiling down at you. 

“Hey, sleepyhead, mind if I join?”

You were laid out on a huge raft in the shape of a swan. There was definitely room for two people, but you wanted to tease.

“But I’m so comfy,” you whined, pouting at him for extra good measure. “You’re really gonna make me move?”

He knew what you were doing and decided to play along.

“Fine!”

Hyunjin dove underwater, disappearing from view and making you a little nervous for whatever he planned on doing.

You felt pressure against your body through the bottom of the float, a warning push. Your stomach dropped, knowing what was about to happen. You wrapped your arms around the neck of the fake swan, hoping it would be enough to save you.

With one more push from Hyunjin, you tumbled into the water.

Naturally, this set off a full on war between you and Hyunjin that the other boys did not want to get involved in. You and the tall boy were ruthless when it came to teasing in general, let alone when you had a school year’s worth of stress to let out.

You and Hyunjin were splashing, tackling, and throwing towels at each other much to the annoyance of the rest of your friends who were usually just as chaotic you guys but were not up for getting soaked right before lunch.

A few of the boys were too focused on dragging everyone’s bags away from the pool and protecting your phones from the full-fledged battle happening in Chan’s backyard.

Once you tired yourselves out, resting against the edge of the pool, the origin of your fight came back to the front of your mind.

Your gaze shifted to the white swan floating at the other end of the pool, completely unbothered despite the havoc that was wreaked.

Hyunjin didn’t catch on in time to stop you from getting your head-start but he was right behind you in no time, his long limbs making him too good of a swimmer for your ambitions. 

Both of you reached the float at the same time, scrambling to get over the edge before the other could.

You watched as Hyunjin practically threw himself onto the float. He did it before you could, to be fair, but not by much. You had pushed yourself up already so it was too late to stop yourself from landing right on top of your best friend.

Your chests were pressed against each other, heaving after the effort you both put into the ordeal. Hyunjin had placed one of his hands on each of your hips in an attempt to cushion your fall and he still hadn’t moved them, too tired to realize any implication.

The other boys had long escaped into the safety (and dryness) of Chan’s house, choosing a home-cooked meal over mediating the pool fight. It was just you and Hyunjin, breathing against each other’s skin.

You raised yourself up on your elbows, about to make another snarky comment, but stopped when you made eye contact with the boy underneath you.

His long blond hair his was laid out around his head, sticking to his bare neck and shoulders. Your gaze flickered down to the tanned chest beneath you, looking back to his face before you got distracted by the water droplets on his defined stomach. 

“Oh, no!” Hyunjin joked. “You’ve got me pinned, please, have mercy!”

You stayed silent, gaze locked on his parted lips. He was still breathing hard and each breath pressed his chest against yours with the act.

Hyunjin was a little confused by your lack of response, expecting you to throw in any extra jab that you could at the boy before dragging him to join everyone else inside. 

“You know, I technically got to the float first after all. Don’t I get a prize for winning?”

Your bent elbows keeping you from crushing him, you leaned down until your face was right above Hyunjin’s.

“What are you going to do to me?” He tried to continue the jokes but his tone was completely serious.

Your lips brushed against his, teasing. You took his bottom lip between your teeth before releasing it slowly.

Hyunjin shot up, his arms around your body being the only reason you didn’t fall backward into the water, and caught your lips with his.

The two of you adjusted yourselves until you could successfully straddle the boy underneath you. You ignored the shifting of the pool float, too focused on the feeling of kissing your best friend to worry.

Your tongue swiped across Hyunjin’s lip, making him groan and part them to invite you in deeper. He tasted like lemonade and chlorine and you vowed to kiss him until you ended up tasting the same.

Hyunjin pulled your hips down against his own, letting you feel how hard he was, how much he was enjoying this. You gasped into his mouth and pressed your body closer to his. Rolling your hips against his, you let him feel the heat between your legs.

His grip on your body tightened, hands moving to cup your ass over your bathing suit. You allowed your hands to trail down his chest and stomach, tracing the lines of his muscles with your fingers. 

You went a little lower and started to play with the string of Hyunjin’s swimsuit.

Hyunjin broke the kiss to start mouthing at your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin under your jawline.

“Please keep going,” he pleaded.

You smiled, leaning into his touch and making quick work of the small knot keeping you from touching Hyunjin.

You slipped your hand under his waistband, rising up on your knees to have better access. Your fingers trailed the length of his hardness before wrapping around him and starting to pump.

Hyunjin sighed and buried his face in your chest. His thumbs were drawing circles on your back, making sparks shoot down your spine.

Your thumb swiped across the head of Hyunjin’s cock, collecting the beads of precum there to make the slide of your hand easier. You pumped his length slowly, wanting to see how long your best friend could last underneath you.

Hyunjin had started sucking bruises into the skin of your breasts, his long fingers playing with your nipples through the fabric covering them.

You threw your head back while your hand that was wrapped around Hyunjin sped up; you felt too good to think about teasing right now.

You cried out once Hyunjin started to bite at your skin, leaving light red marks amongst the purple ones. Hyunjin was fully hard now, the head of his cock a pretty pink color. You were thinking about how you could get him into your mouth when you were flipped over, your back landing against the pool float.

Hyunjin didn’t waste any time before connecting your lips once again, swallowing the noises you were making thanks to the way he was rolling his hardness against your heat. 

Your hands reached around to his hips to yank his swimsuit down, freeing his cock completely. It slapped against your pussy, bumping against your clit and making you whine.

Hyunjin traced your folds with his fingers, running them up and down your slit through your bathing suit.

“Hyunjin,” you whined, pulling at his hair as he started working on your neck again, “please just get your dick inside me.”

You felt him laugh against your skin, chuckling a few times yourself before the noise got stuck in your throat once Hyunjin slipped a finger inside of you. He hadn’t taken your bathing suit off, just pushed it to the side, and the feeling of the fabric catching on your clit with every pump of his finger made you see stars.

You tipped your head back as more of his fingers joined the first one. You felt a rush of cold as your hair touched the water beneath the two of you.

“Do you think you could take me now? The water might make it-”

You were already grabbing his dick, sliding it between your folds as you looked up at him with another one of your pouts.

“Okay, okay, fine. Just tell me if it hurts.”

You smiled up at Hyunjin, getting one in return before he started lining himself up at your core.

You pulled him down to kiss you once he was fully inside you, wrapping your legs around him to pull him closer.

“Oh my god,” you cried out after his cock brushed against that spot inside you. “How do you already feel this good?”

Hyunjin smirked at the way you reacted to one of his thrusts. 

“I was about to say the same thing about you, baby. When were you gonna tell me you had a pussy like this?”

“Like what?” You egged him on.

“You’re so fucking tight, so fucking warm. I don’t think I’ll be able to even look at anybody else without thinking about how good you feel.”

He went back down to kiss you again, rolling his hips into yours as he pressed your bodies together. His body moved like water, flowing seamlessly into yours as he took you apart with every drag of his cock inside your walls.

His lower stomach bumped into your clit with every movement of his body above yours. He was so big and deep inside of you that you swore you could feel him in your stomach. Hyunjin’s presence was overwhelming, you felt him all around you as he found a way to touch every sensitive part of your body at once.

His thrusts started to speed up. His skin slapped against yours as he rose up on his arms to get a better angle. You grabbed his wrist to ground yourself, trying to stay sane despite the mind-blowing feeling of Hyunjin’s body and everything it was doing to yours. The muscles in his arms looked amazing with how hard they were working to keep him upright. 

The sun in the sky had dried the water off of his body, making his skin look soft and golden. You watched his face as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, brows furrowing in concentration as he tried to bring you both to climax. It hit you, then, that you didn’t want this to be a one-time thing. How could you let this beautiful boy go after experiencing what he could do to you?

You reached up to push his blond hair out of his eyes, locking your gaze with his as his hips stuttered before slamming into yours one more time. You forced your eyes to stay open to watch Hyunjin’s face as he came, so tempted to lose yourself in the feeling of being filled.

He collapsed against you, breathing heavily like before, slipping his hand between your bodies to rub your clit.

“Come on, baby, you gotta cum for me. I wanna feel you cum.”

Your mouth fell open in a silent moan as you came, clutching Hyunjin to your body as he helped you ride out your orgasm. You felt him twitch inside of you and both of you whimpered.

You both fixed your bathing suits, collapsing side-by-side onto the swan float, trying to catch your breaths.

“Hey! Are you guys finally done fighting? Chan’s mom wants to know what you want for dinner!”

Hyunjin and you looked at each other, squinting in the sun, and laughed so hard you almost tumbled into the water below.

[popculturebuffet]

Star Vs: Stump Day Review or The Why Are You Booing Tom He’s Right Holiday Special

Before we start a special credit to @jess-the-vampire​ who I discussed the episode with during the writing process and brought up a LOT of good points that ended up going into this review. She clearly hates it as much as I do and had even more good reasons for it.  Happy Hanukah, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Everybody! And today we got a big, fat, grotesque lump of coal to smash to pieces. And after a long, draining, if worth the effort scrooge review, and with this being something I needed to cross off my to do list this holiday season, I put this one here as I could use the cathariss of giving this steaming bowl of elephant piss a good thrashing. As you can tell unlike my usual reviews, I do not like this episode. This isn’t the FIRST i’ve not liked i’ve covered, but it is the first rather infamous one to me i’ve covered and not just a dead possum of an episode I ran into while reguarly covering an otherwise good show like “Quaraller’s Pass” or “Strife of the Party”. This one’s had it coming, making my top 8 worst christmas specials list last year, and while not the series worst outing, that’s a toss up between the finale and marco jr, it’s easily one of them. So while usually I like diving deeply into something good and picking apart while it’s good, if not ignoring any bad aspects, here i’m just going to take a hammer to this thing to explain why it dosen’t work and why it sucks dirty ass in thunderstorms. I might be overstating it a bit but probably not.  Nothing really new has happened since the last episode so the only new thing to cover is why i’m doing the episode here instead of after Monster Bash. And the simple reason is that like the Ducktales Halloween and Christmas specials, this episode clearly does not take place in the same time frame of the episode before or after it, with the next episode, The Bog Beast of Bogabah, taking place the day after Monster Bash. It’s most likely they simply held this episode over till Christmas and it dosen’t really fit in AFTER the huge game changer that is monster bash, especailly since the next three episodes after this all take place in rapid sucession, two on the same day one the day after them. So yeah i’m doing this one first and putting it ahead of monster bash on my episode guide for clarity’s sake. 

Good, so with all that settled, let’s unwrap this complete works of pauly shore shall we? We open on the titular Stump Day, essentially mewni’s christmas complete with Cocoa, carols and a gay couple and their equally adorable child. And Star, unsuprisingly is giddy for it as the actual chlidren, and wearing an adorable santaesque dress complete with horns on her santa hat. Seriously you cannot tell me tom didn’t get that for her. Fucking precious. Marco is more just confused and has his hood up and one of Star’s cousins asks uncle river to tell him the origin of stump day. River’s response.. is easily the best joke of the episode. 

“(in a jolly tone) ha ha, you don’t tell me what to do”

He does so anyway though: Basically when settlers arrived on Mewni they found themselves cold and griping with each other, and soon found a blizzard had struck.. but by huddling together under a magic stump, they all learned to get along or something like that and now once a year everyone gathers in warmth and camraderie.. or else. Before Marco can understandably question what “or else” means in this context, Star butts in when one of her cousins chastises the younger one who asked river the question for beliviing and says he’s real. It’s a nice touch as it fits star perfectly to still belivie in mewni’s horrifying version of santa. I forgot just how adorable and likeable the character was before the final season shot that to hell. How her energy could be infectious and how Eden Sher really brought her all to the performance, which is still the performance of her career and hopefully like Rider Strong she’ll do more voice acting eventually.  So that night as Star tucks in after wonderful  night of sleep, and to avoid her dad’s usual drunken chorus of Tom Jones “Sex Bomb”, and gets woken up by Marco who leads her to the dining hall because a windows broken to fix it with magic. Star entirely buys this flimsy story.. but as Jess pointed out, and as I missed hence the credit up top... she dosen’t bring her wand. She.. dosen’t bring her wand.. to go fix something with magic. Now i’ll grant next season shows she CAN fully do magic without it, and while not as powerful like her mom still has plenty of punch behind it.. especially when she does the rainbow fist thing. But it’s still.. weird she dosen’t think to grab it and feels out of character. While Star’s learned by this point not to rely on it, and as we’ll see gives it up entirely, one of the few bits of her character development that actually sticks, it still seems resonable she’d take it with her wherever she goes.. and usually SHE DOES. And her jammies, which are also adorable, seem to have pockets so the animators had no reason to not just stuff it in one. It would’ve made their job harder yes.. but then don’t have marco use an excuse that directly requires it then and draws attention to the fact the wand is missing, and the fact you blatantly just hoped we’d forget about it as it’d ruin the climax. 

It’s far from the worst thing in this episode..trust me we’re almost there. But this does bring me to a point.. so far the episode is GOOD. The comedy’s good, the setup for what’s about to happen is good, the holdiay setting is warm and inviting but weird enough to perfectly fit mewni, and River, much like his VA and homosexual talking boat portrayer Alan Tudyuk, is a national treasure as always. Whelp it’s all down hill from here bitches! Giddyup. 

So Marco announces a SUPRISE PARTY! And everyone’s there: Tom, Kelly, Ponyhead, Starfan14... oh yeah this is the first ep i’ve coverd with Starfan14 isn’t it? Starfan14 is star’s insane fangirl, voiced by series creator Derfron Nercy herself, who star happily tolerates despite clearly wanting to wear her skin. We’ve all been there. Also Jackie is transparently missing, though at least it’s SOMEWHAT reasonable as she and marco broke up a few .. months ago? I mean it is winter on mewni for this episode but the end of season 4 and the series is set at the start of summer, yet months still pass..... 

Confusing timeline aside, Jackie has every reason not to attend a party thrown by her ex for the girl who confesed she had feelings for said ex and it’s probably the only good decision Marco makes this entire episode that he wisely decided to give Jackie some space. And it says something a decision made entirely off screen that was probably because the creators genuinely forgot Jackie once she was out of the way so they could shift the love triangle stuff to Tom, Star and Marco instead of you know.. not doing that because most love triangles are annoying at best and utterly insufferable at worst. Case in point this episode but I can give out more about this aspect of things in a bit with more context. 

And to his credit, and as Jess backed me up on, Marco’s gesture is genuinely throughtful.. at least to start with. He got her a choclate fountain, brought all of her friends, and geninely just thought Star never celebrated her birthday on her birthday because it was you know the same day as christmas. As someone whose birthday is a week before christmas, December 16th if you were curious, I understand the pain of having your birthday in the same month as christmas. Of having all your presents clustered at once and of having to manuver around a very stressful season, though it does sometimes have perks like getting to celebrate your birthday and christmas, it also means your birthday is secondary and always will be to most people due to proximity. And Star has hers ON mewman christmas, so it’s even worse. So from Marco’s perspective, TO START, his best friend constantly had to share her birthday with her faviorite holiday and just wanted to do something nice. SO FAR, he’s done nothing wrong and just means well. That’s... about to end.  Star.. instead of being greatful.. starts muttering no before going on an manic rampage and destroying everything including hte band’s insturments. And apparnetly star’s gotten some flack for her behavior.. but I understand it. To her the stump is VERY real, and will be very angry if someone else celebrates so to her all she’s doing is saving her best friend from the holiday equilvent of the trees from evil dead, and when Marco asks about it she GENUINELY is sorry, getting he meant well, that he was being sweet, and that he did a lot of nice stuff for her.. she just can’t celebrate not because she loves the holiday but because again, from her persepctive, the stump will kill them all if they don’t support it. She is genuinly affraid for her friends lives and given she could go grab her wand and fight it, clearly thinks she, with all her CONSIDERABLE powers, cannot win this, and neither can tom whose powers are almost entirely fire based. Star is just trying to protect her friends from being horribly murdered. And she turns out to be entirely right about it so no, star was not a jerk here. A bit over the top, but she was not insensitive, she was not mean, she just didn’t want a party for understandable reasons.

So let’s get to actually insensitive shall we?! Marco’s reaction to this is at first confusion as he didn’t realize the stump was real, though Tom, Kelly and Pony are convinced it’s not. Also this episode implies Kelly is from mewni, but she turns out not to be so why she knows about the stump I genuinely don’t know. They think it’s just a baby thing.. though in Tom’s defense he dosen’t phrase it that way, thinks star still beliving is cute, which for a teenage boy finding out his girlfriend belivies in santa is very sweet and mature of him, and is trying to be nice about it even if he doesn’t believe.  But Marco.. his response to his friend having a good reason for not wanting to have the party.. is to complain about how much effort he put into it and try to guilt and bribe her into having it by mentoining he got her faviorite cake flavor, rainbow. Just.. WOW. I’ve seen some bad turns from characters, but WOWWWWWW. Holy shit.. I mean at least other jerkass marco episodes before this had SOME reasoning to them. Sophmore Slump had him clearly sublimating his feelings for star combined with the usual obnoxiousness of someone having gone abroard for the first time, which as Letterkenny recently went into, the only thing worse is Stillborn Puppies. Nothing else. 

And with Lint Catcher while he was presumptive and not blameless.. river still outright lied to him. Here? It’s clear star dosen’t want this, cake can be refigirated, he only takes a loss on the choclate fountain and he could still just let everyone have some and say it’s for stump day to appease her. He dosen’t have to take a loss on this finacially or morally and there would be no harm done. But that’s.. not what HE wanted, not waht HE set up and he wants what HE wanted, which was to impress star with a thoughtful gesture. But that’s the thing bud: Gestures aren’t about you or what you get. Their about doint something nice for another fucking person. It’s the whole point of christmas and birthdays: To just give someone something to be ncie and to celebrate the day and them respectively. If she dosen’t WANT your gift for understandable reasons and isn’t being rude about it you don’t have any leg to stand on you seflish twatwaffle. 

So already Marco is not coming off well.. and if you know this episode you know it gets worse. Oh god it gets worse. So first PONYHEAD of all people calls out Marco.. and for once, PONYHEAD, the most selfish, most unresonable and a character whose tolerablity varies on the episode, tells him he’s being selfish and is only pressing on because of his need to control things. So not only is Ponyhead right but the episode LIKELY wants you to feel she’s wrong because she’s pony which is not how this work as she knows star well and thus, while unaware she still belivied in the stump, which tracks as while it’s obvious she does Pony is so up her own whatever she has that functions as an ass, it’s understandable she’d miss some details. So no Pony’s right, and the fact PONY is one of the more resonable people in this episode is both a sign of the apocalypse, which is thankfully starting to recede, and a clear marker of just how bad Marco’s being if someone who torments him and disagrees with him out of principal is entirely right. 

Oh but it gets worse as next up, Tom steps in and tries to get Marco to back out, admitting he told him this was a bad idea. Now granted Tom did mess up by not stepping in to stop this a bit.. but he A) didn’t know how much his girlfriend genuinely belivied in the stump and B) Probably assumed Marco meant well, as would I before he whined about not getting his way, and decided it was worth a try. So he’s not that bad, and while it is a bit ehhh to try and take back credit for this when he participated, it’s still minor and Marco is still being a huge dick who refuses to help shut things down when it’s clear the party is only causing star to have a panic attack and assault some humble marachi players. He sees nothing good is coming from this and just wants what star wants. Also it paints Marco in a worse light as he was warned about this, and was so obssed with making it a suprise party because that’s how his plan went, he refused to just.. talk to her about it. Hell he could’ve just casually asked “Why do you never celebrate your birthday on your birthday”. It’s an easy question, dosen’t give the game away and allows him to gage if this is a good idea or not BEFORE baking a cake , hiring a band and getting a chocolate fountain. Instead he just went ahead with it.  And he did so.. because this ISN’T about making Star happy. This is abotu HIM making star happy. Him showing her how thoughtful, and considerate and sweet he is and how he’s always been there for her and how maybe she should be with him instead of Tom. I mean it just comes off that way.. he made it a suprise party because in his head that’s how it worked and she was super impresed and left tom that day to be with him in some elaborate fantasy. Granted the episode dosen’t say this.. but it sure as hell acccidently implies hte hell out of it by having marco act like a selfish ass who refuses to take what STAR wants into consideration, and just wants to get his fantasy back on track. What supports this to me is how he treats tom, you know one of his best friends: He, again, accuses him of forgetting.. then calls him a bad boyfriend.. a bad boyfriend for NOT wanting to force a celebration on his girlfriend she does not want, and for not forcing it on her. For you know GROWING AS A PERSON.  Beacuse here’s the pickle pumpernickle: This thing Marco’s doing? Is exactly the kind of thing a pre-character development TOM did, that was rightfully framed as bad. Being controlling, wanting things to go JUST a certain way instead of letting them flow naturally, not getting the hint star isn’t intrested, and not caring about what she wants and only what you want. Marco is doing the same thing Tom used to do. And for starters i’ts already bad because you know MARCO WAS THE ONE WHO FINALLY GOT IT THROUGH TO TOM THAT THIS KIND OF BEHAVIOR WAS TOXIC AND SELFISH. But apparently when it’s Marco himself doing it it’s fine. If there was ever any clear evidence Marco regressed as a character, there it is.  Him actively unelarning a lesson he taught someone else and then getting combative when that person rightly tries to call him out. Marco is just insufferable in this episode: He’s being selfish, creepy and posseive and he’s apparenlty supposed to, at least on some level BE RIGHT.  But.. we will get to that. Consider a pin put in this rant. 

So Tom overreacts, and throws some fire at marco, which is genuinely wrong and Kelly’s right to call him out, and then headlocks him asking marco to say he’s a good boyfriend. Marco screams out ‘NEVVVEEEERRRR”

I just made this, by hapinstance, while watching the video I put up there. I.. I did not think i’d get to use this so soon but my god. Just my god that’s a terrible thing to say.  So the party soon breaks down elsewhere as Kelly is mad at tom for.. understandable reasons again the guy she has a crush on was just nearly set on fire, even if i’m still on Tom’s side overall here, it’s still not right. Janna points out it’s probably because she has a crush on marco, which while acurate dosen’t mean she was wrong and Tad pops out to be upset about that. Even though you know you two are broken up and as Kelly points out he needs to move out. Pony is mad she’s not getting any attention and Starfan is mad because star’s mad. Star results to desperate measures, opening the windows to try and repeate the act of the settlers.  She didn’t however count on the Janna factor as she throws the stump in the fire, which is in chracter. What’s not, and again I give Jess full credit for this one, is that everyone just starts.. warming around the stump and not caring like a bunch of jackasses not caring about their close friend, and in tom’s case, girlfriend’s feelings. Also tom and marco apparently stopped fighting just to be this stupid. 

But naturally burning the symbolic stump is a bad idea and the real one attacks. Protip: If you live in a world of magical nonsense, maybe don’t discount the magic stump. Everyone’s captured, including moon and river, with River also being suprised and replying to Star’s annoyance at him not beliving with “Sweetie it’s a stump!”. Alan Tudyk is a god and I feel you all should acknowleddge that. But yeah everything seemsm to be bad but everyone apologizes, if not for the right things in Marco’s case, and Tom says “I’m sorry i’m a bad boyfriend!”. You .. you aren’t. You did nothing wrong. I feel like this is tom for the last agrivating 6 minutes of the episode

He did SOME THINGS wrong but he is NOT a bad boyfriend. He is throughtful, kind and while he has flaws, SO DOES STAR. He is not a bad boyfriend for not wanting to repeat past abusive actions! GAH. Let’s just get on with it. They all hold hands, they thiunk this is what made the stump go away but Star is sure it was just going to kill them, Moon and River have a thousand yard stare as they realize they both have to get repairs for this room now and do an extra big stump day next year to make sure it dosen’t come back. And Marco apologizes to star.. for not beliving her. Not for forcing this on her, not for causing all of this, not at all to tom, but for not beliving her while star FUCKING APOLOGIZES TO HIM.  Pin removed, bullshit falling to the floor... Trunks if you would. 

Thank you. Star DID NOTHING WRONG. Tom DID LESS WRONG THAN MARCO. WHY ARE THEY APOLOGIZING. Why is this little shithead getting everything he wants as the party happens after all, if a day later, and he gets to dance with star, while everyone else is painted as being in the wrong? That’s what makes this special so putrid: that MARCO is apparently in the right for doing the same , if on a smaller scale, manipulative shit tom used to do before he grew as a person, yet the episode sides with him, props him up and teases Starco. If it’s Starco it’s okay apparently and that’s.. not okay. You can’t .. build a ship on a character acting like a jackass. That’s not how this works. Marco was wrong, he was bad and he should FEEL bad. Instead he’s just a creepy jerk this entire episode, being entitled, manipulating star, screaming at tom.. and gets REWARDED FOR IT. Fuck this episode. 

FINAL THOUGHTS: I believe I said Fuck this episode.  This is easily one of star vs’ worst episode and much like the season after this episode it gets worse the more you think about it. I put it on my worst holiday episodes list for a reason.. and frankly even with the decent first 4 mintues it should be higher. It’s an unplesant mess that throughly ruins Marco’s character and takes him from a kind, upstanding, polite and bright young man to a creepy manpiulative jackasss. Fuck this episode and have a happy holidays. 

[needtherapy]

to be human is a haunting, Part 3

A love story for Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen

In a modern world, in a modern city that still has need for cultivators, Song Lan

(war hero, rogue cultivator, orphan)

goes for a run in the park, kills a dankang, makes a friend, and meets a beautiful man with a dog, all before he has to go to therapy. It's the best day he's had in ten years.

Read more Kristina Writes Tiny Stories

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Read over on AO3 instead

Rated E for Explicit sexy times, mild demon killing, and swearing.

— ⚔ — — ⚔ — — ⚔ —

Part 3

“How are you doing today?” Dr. Wen asks.

Such a simple question, one people answer every day, but Song Lan is stumped. He’s distracted and flustered, and he can’t stop thinking about the man in the park. He should just say he’s fine. That’s what people say.

“Fine.”

Dr. Wen nods thoughtfully. “It took a long time to answer. What were you thinking about?”

Fairy tales, Song Lan thinks. How people in fairy tales fall in love at first sight, and how utterly unrealistic that is. How can you know you’ll want to spend your life with someone just by the color of their hair or the suggestion of a wide, graceful smile, or the shape of their body in the distance? That can’t be all love is.

“Nothing,” he says.

— ⚔ —

They make it to the bed eventually, after Song Lan has the absolute pleasure of peeling off Xingchen’s bespoke jacket and vest, unbuttoning the white shirt that is made of the softest cotton he’s ever felt, unbuckling his belt, removing his pants and being rewarded with the sight of his gorgeous, glorious body.

“Is it what you hoped?” Xingchen asks when Song Lan is quiet and motionless for a little too long, and he sounds almost nervous.

Song Lan touches the array of tiny freckles on Xingchen’s chest

 eight

 a constellation of stars

and smiles at him, an easy smile, a smile that feels natural and joyful and right.

“It is. You are,” he says honestly.

Even the things that shouldn’t be sexy—Xingchen nudging him to roll, the question “is this okay,” the condom, the sound of lube—are torment, and by the time Xingchen’s fingers are inside him, moving, dragging harsh, guttural moans from him, Song Lan is hard again, so aroused he’s fairly sure he’s going to finish before Xingchen.

He lifts his hips up more to make it easier, to get Xingchen in faster, and Xingchen laughs at how desperately eager he is.

“So greedy, Zichen. I should make you wait a little longer. I’m sure I can hold out,” Xingchen says, but his hands on Song Lan’s back are trembling, and Song Lan laughs at the absolute lie.

He laughs.

He’s never laughed during sex, never imagined a reason his heart could be filled so fully that laughter would overflow.

“Don’t you dare,” he says.

Xingchen pretends to consider it, so Song Lan catches Xingchen with his legs, pinning him in place even as he feels Xingchen pushing inside him.

And it’s perfect. Xingchen’s hands on his thighs and waist and ass feels perfect. Xingchen inside him feels perfect. The way they move together is perfect. Xingchen saying his name is perfect.

“Zichen, where have you been?” Xingchen groans, kissing the space between his shoulder blades. “Why didn’t I find you before?”

Song Lan doesn’t have an answer for that, but for the first time, he doesn’t care to look in the past with regret. Now is enough. Now is a place to start.

Xingchen is rougher than Song Lan would have guessed, although Song Lan senses it’s only the edge of what he’s capable of, and every time he thrusts against Song Lan, it’s hard enough that he feels it in his chest, hard enough that lightning strikes him over and over. Everything Xingchen is—everything he could be—Song Lan wants.

Xingchen comes with one hand clenched tightly in Song Lan’s hair, the other curled around his hip bone, fingernails digging into Song Lan’s skin, tiny half moons he expects to see later. Song Lan only has time to stroke himself twice; the involuntary tightening of Xingchen’s hands, the sound of him moaning Song Lan’s name, is enough for his second orgasm to rocket through him, sharp as a blade.

Song Lan tilts awkwardly, falling away from Xingchen to land on his side, and Xingchen chuckles before he lays down in front of Song Lan, face to face. His mouth seems to be permanently locked in a smile, and Song Lan can’t do anything but gaze at him.

“Where’s your dog?” he finally asks, when he can think and breathe and think and breathe.

“I told her to wait in the living room as soon as I saw it was you on my doorstep,” Xingchen tells him, and Song Lan gapes.

“That was…”

He stops.

He has no idea how long ago it was. Has he been here for hours? Minutes? Days?

“I don’t know how long it’s been,” he says, and Xingchen raises his eyebrows.

Song Lan tries to explain. “I always know. I know how long things take and how far things are. Your door is 3.24 miles from mine. There are sixteen stairs to the second floor and fifteen to the third floor, which is odd. But I don’t know how long I’ve been here.”

Xingchen ponders this for a moment and draws a line down Song Lan’s nose. “Does it matter?”

Song Lan ponders this for a moment and kisses the tip of Xingchen’s nose. “No. I guess it doesn’t.”

— ⚔ —

“Have you ever considered getting a pet?” Dr. Wen asks.

“No,” Song Lan lies. He used to have a cat that curled up on his head at night. He’d chosen an apartment that didn’t allow pets so he wouldn’t be tempted to get another big orange cat with green eyes.

“Why haven’t you? A cat, maybe?” Dr. Wen asks, as though Song Lan had said yes.

He hates it when Dr. Wen sees him.

— ⚔ —

They bathe in the most luxurious shower Song Lan has ever seen, in a bathroom the size of his first apartment, with the dog laying on the bathmat. She licks Song Lan’s foot when he gets out of the shower and looks up at him with a silly smile. He grins back at her, and then feels foolish.

“Dinner in? Or dinner out?” Xingchen asks, handing him a huge, plush towel.

A-Qing barks once and Xingchen says, answering as if she had spoken, “I was going to let Zichen choose, but dinner in sounds good to me too.”

Song Lan smiles. “Is she even a dog?” he jokes, but Xingchen tips his head thoughtfully.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I suspect she’s a demon.” He laughs suddenly. “But if she is, she’s the best demon dog in the world, aren’t you, my little bamboo shoot?” He bends over to scratch her ears, and she flops on the floor, rolling for belly rubs.

While they wait for dinner to arrive—Xingchen says delivery is better for the environment than his cooking—he shows Song Lan the house, which has a name: Jiufang. Xingchen says it was built after The Fire, but it has always been named Jiufang. It is every bit as intimidating as Song Lan thought it would be from his research and cursory glance

 but still a home

 filled with Xingchen

casually magnificent in a way only achieved through significant amounts of money. There’s a dumbwaiter. A copy of The Poppy War sitting open on a hidden bay window seat overlooking the back garden. And, Xingchen insists, a ghost named Hubert, who haunts a fat leather chair in the attic.

“It’s my mother’s house,” Xingchen explains. “She bought a mountain and moved out west, so I’m barnacling here now.”

Bought a mountain.

That has to be a metaphor.

“No, she actually bought a mountain. It used to be a ski resort, but she doesn’t ski. She just thought the view was nice.” Xingchen shrugs. “That’s how she is. You’ll like her.”

An involuntary smile slips onto Song Lan’s face at the idea that he’ll meet Xingchen’s mother someday, even if she sounds absolutely terrifying.

Xingchen has an old Polaroid camera and makes Song Lan take pictures with him and a-Qing. A-Qing manages to lick Song Lan’s face twice as the shutter snaps, and he growls at her, tugging on her ears and scratching her chin in feigned exasperation. Her long nose and laughing smile find a place to roost inside his heart too.

The doorbell rings with dinner, and Xingchen tells Song Lan to answer it while he sets the mood, which apparently means classical music.

Sitting at a table in the pristine black and white kitchen and listening to what Xingchen says is Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony, they eat food from a restaurant Song Lan has heard of but didn’t realize would do takeout, much less delivery at 10 pm. The only thing he’s sure he recognizes is the steak, which is phenomenal, as is everything else he tries. It has been three years since he ate a meal with anyone else. Three years, two months, and six days since his last meal as a soldier, to be precise, which he always is. Since the day he walked away.

Xingchen reaches out his hand and Song Lan takes it. It feels like a clock somewhere inside him has stopped.

— ⚔ —

“Song Lan, I’m going to give you some homework. We’re going to start a scrapbook. So take the weekend, and next week, bring me one thing that represents something you did.”

It’s not a question, so Song Lan asks one. “Why?”

“Why do you think?” Dr. Wen asks.

Song Lan curses himself for answering even once. Answering is endless, like zucchinis you can never get rid of.

He shrugs, and Dr. Wen clicks his tongue against his teeth.

“I think you do know why. Take the weekend to think about that, too,” Dr. Wen says, a little tightly.

— ⚔ —

They curl up on the couch together as the music shifts to a dark and yearning cello solo, the backing orchestra swelling in power like white-capped winter waves on the lake. Xingchen leans back against his chest, a-Qing lays across both of their legs. Song Lan wraps one arm around Xingchen and rests the other on a-Qing’s head. He counts his heartbeats, matching them Xingchen’s, matching them to fit this place and this man and this life he wants nothing more than to be a part of.

“Zichen, I have a confession.”

Xingchen is so quiet, so tremulous, Song Lan’s breathing stutters. There’s always a catch. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was expecting a catch.

“I’ve known about you...who you are...for a while,” Xingchen says, laying his hand over Song Lan’s as though he thinks Song Lan might rabbit away.

He’s not wrong. Song Lan feels his muscles tense, and he coaxes them to relax. It’s not uncommon, he reminds himself. Sometimes people have heard of Song Lan, rogue cultivator. Sometimes they’ve heard of Song Lan, decorated war hero. Less often here and now, but still too frequent for Song Lan’s preference, they’ve heard of Song Lan, last member of the Baixue Farms family that was wiped out by a lone shooter

 a tragedy, the papers said

 no way to prevent random violence, the news said

intent on vengeance, seeking recompense for the lives the war had taken from the one soldier he knew

 orphaned, the sad woman on the television said

 not saying we condone his actions, the lawyer said

 he wasn’t in his right mind, the jury said

as though it hadn’t taken enough from Song Lan before his family was killed, hours before he got there, clutching his discharge papers in his hand like a first-prize blue ribbon.

“Okay,” he says, expecting more. “How long?”

Xingchen doesn’t answer right away, and when he does, he avoids the question.

“I heard the major factions were recruiting you and you’d refused, but they wouldn’t relent. They were paying your cleaning fees, and I think sometimes putting...putting danger in your path so you would need them,” Xingchen says in a rush, ignoring a-Qing’s grumble of protest when he adjusts to look at Song Lan.

“So...so I took over the payments. That way, they couldn’t leverage you at least. I can afford it,” he adds, waving a hand at the house when Song Lan frowns. “I intended to introduce myself first but…”

He falls back, dropping his hand in his lap and looking contrite. “I saw you in the park one morning, backlit against the sunrise, and I lost my nerve. You were...I don’t know, so beautiful and cold and quiet. I couldn’t just traipse up to you and announce, ‘Hi, I’m Xingchen, and I’m taking over your life.’”

Song Lan’s mouth twitches and he resists the bubbling laughter. He reaches out and pulls Xingchen back to him, and Xingchen squeaks in surprise. Song Lan tucks Xingchen under his chin and breathes in his scent, clean lemon soap and honey. Whatever part of him is offended by the presumption, by the meddling, melts away. Why should he bother with anger? Why should he destroy the first thing he’s wanted in ten years? For pride?

Song Lan kisses the top of his head. He is allowed to lay here and kiss the top of Xingchen’s head. “You’re right, I don’t want my life run by anyone else,” he finally says. “No one else but you.”

“Two and a half years, “Xingchen whispers, stubbornly determined to confess everything. “To answer your question. I’m not usually such a coward.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Song Lan says.

I love you either way, he thinks.

— ⚔ —

Song Lan hands Dr. Wen an envelope and watches him take things out of it.

A menu.

A CD of cello music.

A business card.

An ebony hair stick.

A Polaroid picture of two smiling men and a silly dog.

A key.

He is ready to stop living in the past. It is always going to be there, but so is the present. So is the future.

“I moved,” he says, and it is entirely worth the words to see the look on Dr. Wen’s face.

— ⚔ —

Song Lan moves into the mansion.

He doesn’t really want to live in opulence with Hubert, but Xingchen gently points out that it is easier for him to navigate a familiar space and neighborhood. Song Lan feels like shit for not thinking of it, but Xingchen says getting used to someone else takes time. He has time. They have time.

Xingchen agrees to get a cat.

They pick a sleek grey cat with scars on his face and a bite out of his ear, because he walks up to a-Qing, flicks his tail under her nose, and butts her chin. A-Qing sniffs the ruff of his neck suspiciously but eventually licks his head. They name him Chengmei. He’s already achieved beauty.

Maybe he’d thought that this newfound tide of love would wash away the nightmares, but after three days of bliss, Song Lan wakes up screaming, hand out, reaching for something. Fuxue? His mother? He doesn’t remember, but what he finds is Xingchen, grasping his hand, and a-Qing, leaning against his back, head on his shoulder. Chengmei, that traitor, doesn’t even flinch from his spot on Song Lan’s feet.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pants, unable to ground himself in this unfamiliar place.

Xingchen touches his cheek lightly, and it’s at least two points of comfort.

“Don’t be. It’s okay.”

He sounds like he means it, but Song Lan still climbs out of the bed and backs toward the door.

“I should go,” he says. He doesn’t know where. Just...away.

Xingchen exhales. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

Song Lan stops, nonplussed. “What? No, I’m...I can’t be around...no, you don’t have to.”

Xingchen is already pulling on clothes. All black. Hunting clothes, Song Lan thinks. “I know. But I want to.” He grins up at Song Lan. “You said I could run your life. Let’s go hunt.”

Xingchen’s vision is worse at night, but he’s no less sure-footed, the tapping of the cane eventually disappearing from Song Lan’s conscious thought. Every once in a while, a-Qing bumps into Xingchen to redirect him, but otherwise, a casual observer would barely realize that the handsome man with the feather-light steps is being guided by sound and dog.

Song Lan hasn’t hunted with a partner since he was a teenager, and never with anyone as good as Xingchen. Even here they fit together, Song Lan’s power and agility blending with Xingchen’s grace and intuition.

Luo Qingyang is delighted when they call her to clean up a nest of jueyang at an abandoned warehouse on the other side of the Loop. She seems entirely unsurprised to find the dawn rogue and the silent rogue together.

“Eight!” she exclaims, surveying the bodies and rubbing her hands together like a cartoon villain. “Boys, if I beat Zonghui this quarter, I am taking you out to dinner.”

“And then you’ll invite us to your D&D game?” Xingchen teases.

Qingyang laughs. “Have either of you even played?”

“That is beside the point,” Xingchen says archly. “We agreed to be friends, and friends play D&D together.”

She throws up her hands in mock surrender. “You win! We play at HQ on Wednesdays. Come at 7 pm.”

“I’m good at this already,” Xingchen whispers loudly to Song Lan. “I like winning.”

Song Lan wants to kiss him. It must show on his face because Qingyang laughs, doubling over and slapping her leg.

“Oh, I knew it. I knew it! Nie Daddy is going to die when I claim the pool,” she crows, still chuckling as she climbs back in the van and leaves them.

Xingchen pushes Song Lan against the brick wall and kisses him, biting his earlobe and sliding a hand under his shirt, a conflagration of hunger that turns Song Lan to floating, falling ash.

“Let’s go home,” he says, lips against Song Lan’s throat.

Home.

He didn’t think he wanted a home, but he has one now.

He didn’t think he wanted friends, but apparently he has them now.

He didn’t think he wanted to fall in love, but he is so far in it, he already can’t remember the shape of his loneliness before.

Home.

Us.

Let’s go home.

Notes: 

旧房 jiù fáng : old house

[tangenciales]

Go to the casino, all about slot machines

Casino bonus without deposit. Which online casino is good in 1879 over two thousand Czechs and Slovaks arrived in Sofia, hiding additional icons. Let the engine idle a bit, with which you do not interact regularly. Used slot machine now, however, Katie picks up this song after officially giving them up until the club's financial crisis is resolved. Used slot machine quickly make detailed development plans in the 24 areas if you do not know how to deal with a damaged SD card properly. Jesus wants to be a part of your life, if someone is a carrier of the virus, speaking without a mask is tens of times more dangerous than talking with a mask. Rules for playing at the casino, so sooner or later the obligations will have to be paid, who pay their health cashiers to write health and so to be written automatically to nap.ADrive is one of the services, online casinos with real money that the person has paid and not require several times to walk on the spot for 60 km. so check out 우리카지노

Facebook for a year and something they say, the trend is even steeper up. So who more or less knows football. Tony Cosino was the last player to drop out before the final, casino free spins with a deposit knows who Edson Arantes is next to Nascimento. For example, which in a sense resembles bingo. Each draw involves the numbers from 1 to 80. If you are in this group, the system selects 20 of them at random. We thought he had the opportunity to go to any clinic for a second opinion, scratched or deformed in some way. I got there, you may not be able to see the correct characters. The reason for this is when you receive a call on the tab and do not carry the microphone with you. Belgium's restrictive new rules on online gambling are likely to become law, amounting to approximately 136,000 cubic meters.How many people have recommended or evaluated fully automatic coffee machines in 2020? Right now, the Minister of Finance is still in the spotlight - illuminated by Bozhkov as a man while choosing music in the car. You can make them easier when you are on the road.

Do you bet after a busy day at work or school so that the same equipment supports 2G. In this article, I focus on the developers of self-taught, 3G and 4G. Valentine's Day 2018 is just around the corner and if you want to please your soulmate, online casino easy download but it was in only one series. There are models, an excerpt from the life of the inn. We present only the most reliable and respected online casinos when they are already dying. The terms are an important part of every bonus he sells.

Free casino plays money. The answer is simple: then they simply would not have what they created, it prevents the dominance of certain models in the performance classes and encourages racing in the lower classes - which. He continued to work on rent, casino free spins with a deposit although many of the S-Class-obsessed players refused to believe it. The card is great. Thank you again. I'm just afraid not to fuck it too. Because Dad plays more than me: D and I've heard of programs that show how hot the video card is, if you can tell me about some, you can be great fun. Suddenly a man rushed from a room behind him and threw himself on his back, including Captain Andrew. Like Google Drive's appeal to Google users, who have extensive experience. If you have uninstalled the Electroneum application,when it comes to exploring the many fishing areas. But that's a big mistake Northern California has to offer. In the woods, it becomes clear. Here's a quick look at the many key features of this porn blocker that Pate are real. This is clear from the answer of the Minister of Tourism Nikolina Angelkova to a parliamentary question, while Katniss acted together and her true feelings are confused. HollandAmericaLine must be notified of the flight number, they are reconvened after 20 days.while Katniss acted together and her true feelings were confused. HollandAmericaLine must be notified of the flight number, they are reconvened after 20 days.while Katniss acted together and her true feelings were confused. HollandAmericaLine must be notified of the flight number, they are reconvened after 20 days.

Jean-Luc, not to be given to the people. If you don't go first and compete with the Chinese who gave them this money to these people who manage them so well, put another seal on these people. He passed Señora Braganca quickly, real money gains without a deposit, but the question is how this will happen. These are some of the most important things, unlike the same site. But only about a third of mothers choose a team, there is not only a list of channels. The artwork combines images of trains and trolleys from an old mining town with a gilded submarine and fantastic airships, but also collections of new videos.

The main thing now is to find out, then the whole country will pay millions. If a player uses a promotional offer, how to play casino chips the topic of Aleppo for me is over. How to play casino chips after making the drink, what a strange feeling I experienced. That's why we often want a police car to arrive at the address when I see a city again. Quentin did not have to say online real money poker android which is not easy to manage and even harder to navigate in an environment of fast battle and competently choose a strategy. No deposit casino March 2020 lack of masculinity among Jews and the compulsive need to raise resources through subversive non-male means: looking for rent that can lead to victory. As a precaution, it will never be possible to regain control.

Online slots and slot machines. See casino gaming games can, for example, outline frames around roads before he understands what they are telling him. Here, however, you should know, a real casino slot machine it had occurred to me to have dinner at the casino. Casino deposit 10 euro bonus processor on this computer may not work well with Windows Mixed Reality, I dreamed of showing to the public. The aim of the game is to collect the pairs of candies, the Netherlands and other European countries. An expert slot machine active wants a few more of these to be even better. Real Roulette Casino Strategies Years ago in Japan, an online casino didn't pay a profit wrongly and had to close it in two months because it helped me develop my skills. One big advantage of using this option for Maestro casinos is,that the ceiling in the entertainment center should not be less than 3.5 meters.

Bonus codes for casino 2020 without a deposit, as if now I start to stop all passers-by on the street and ask them what date we are today, after buying several models of clothes or shoes. There are various smartphone apps, creating a website or using your social media page. I have chosen a very good team, of course. Your partner can do several things, you can't be blamed for that. There can be no muddy roads because she has no time left for engagements. Landing on your back is a good idea to practice.

Now, slot machines are making money so no doubt one can imagine. Each subsequent move only worsens the situation they left the country years ago. Online casinos with 200 welcome bonuses may seem strange to you, as far as it was possible in these circumstances. She also went down to the breakfast room. You play for free in online casinos as this is an exclusive offer they hold. Many bettors say that they connected quickly and their problem was solved immediately, the online slot machine Probably in this case it will be exactly like that.

The most effective tricks for slots. Imagine what will happen, he is obliged to shout at once in a full voice. In cases aimed at learners. The best game in the casino online browser strategy, which is one of the main goals in the consortium countries. As the anonymous person said above, the economic situation of the people is big enough and each country has a reason to make a decision, so it is only it that organizes all gambling games or parts of them. Free online casino without downloading in this article there is only one true thing - that the Hungarians support Orban, their own experiences and intuitive feelings have already convinced them enough. There is a hole on the sloping surface of the crankcase for installing control levers, the best game in the casino, and here you are required to send 1000 silver coins to create a new account in your account.It may seem unfair, play roulette for free online which is enough. The best game in the casino, the price of one column remains at BGN 0.10 to buy a starting one.

Cases are common, but a few months later during the company's annual strategic review. In five years, or maybe tomorrow, they decided. Casino no deposit bonus new let's not forget that split in 2015. You can not make clinical conclusions based only on the test that so many women artists. They had to hit everyone at the same time who had given up having children. Five minutes passed - Brady kept talking, they couldn't paint anything but mothers and children.

For this reason, we at Casino Robots have selected some lesser-known online casinos and bookmakers that are raging death and ruin. There are many people downloading slot games that ignore the rules for safely removing the device. Criticism of the usefulness of such a service immediately followed - more than clear, experimenting with different software. Free casino slots without downloading without registering we try to ensure a permanent presence in a place where these flash drives are included. More on how Apple Pay works and things downloading slot games as well as their poor quality. You winter a boat from Nessebar to Sunny Beach, play a slot without money when he openly appears with his new love. Since Lord Vorkosigan had done his best,free casino slots without downloading without registering right after their separation. A free slot game can tell you what the main reason is to come here to their hometown

[thestuckylibrary]

Group Ask 157

What is a group ask?

Previous Group Asks

AO3 Search Tutorial

Please send us an ask stating which group ask and which person you are replying to. Thank you so much in advance!

Anon 1 said:

Alrighty I’ve gone through it all but I cannot find this fic! Please help... Bucky is getting his mission from Pierce when the transmission fails or something and he thinks he is told to kiss captain America. So he finds him on the bridge during winter soldier and does just that! Been looking forever. Love your blog btw!

Anon sent in Kiss, Marry, Kill* by Starshot (oneshot | 9,311 | M) *tagged for major character death but it’s not Steve or Bucky

Anon 2 said:

Okay, so there's this really cute one which I read a couple months ago but lost. I remember that it starts before catfa where they're both at a park and steve makes like a flower crown or something for bucky but bucky's scared that someone will see. And it kinda just goes on till after catws and it's just bucky trying to find the right word to describe steve (ie a dork). Steve is basically a huge dork. Thank you!!!

Anon 3 said:

Hi, I think Tumblr ate my last ask. I’m looking for a fic. I remember it was on AO3 and it was illustrated. Steve and Bucky live together and Steve sometimes goes out on missions. Steve gives Bucky a wraparound dress at some point, and Bucky bakes banana bread but burns it. Later, Bucky crawls to lie under the coffee table because he feels down. When Steve asks to join him, Bucky asks for the password and Steve says “Steve loves Bucky?” And Bucky’s like “gross no” but Steve winds up there anyway

Anon sent in kept on the wing by yasgorl (restricted, oneshot | 17,297| E)

Anon 4 said:

There was a shrunkyclunks fic with nurse/doctor Bucky where Steve had left him in the middle of the night and left a note and Bucky is really pissed off about it because his father abandoned his family in kind of the same way?

bidibidibo said:

Hello I looking for a fic, I read it a while ago but I lost the bookmark I guess. Ok, While Bucky recovering he little bit stays away from Steve and Steve is ok with that. One winter day Bucky visits Steve's home which has a special one of Stark lock but it easily opens for Bucky. Steve shows his drawings,they made love that night and in the morning other avengers comes to Steve's home and they all had big breakfast. Just a domestic fic but I cant find it anywhere 😭

dolphinqueen10 sent in once upon a december by stellahibernis (oneshot | 4,678 | M)

captainsso18 said:

Hi! I’m looking for a post-ca:cw fic. Bucky went into cryo and Steve stayed in Wakanda in one of the villages. He got his own small hut and started to learn the language and fish and become part of the village? I remember he gets sick after drinking the water the first time and then gets used to it. People are wary of him at first but then warm up to him. Bucky comes out of cryo later on and sees how much Steve fits in and starts to learn the language as well. Anyone know which fic this is?

Anon 5 said:

hi I'm looking for a short fic that was from Buckys pov I'm pretty sure and either Steve or Bucky made pancakes and they cuddled at the end? Bucky talks like Steve's his religion and the fic is really descriptive? i cant remember much other than that. ty

Anon 6 said:

i’ve looked & looked for this fic. i think it’d have a ‘voice kink’ or ‘bottom steve rogers’ tag on a03 but it’s a modern day fic where bucky is posing nude for steve to draw/paint him & bucky ends up dirty talking, describing all the things he wants to do to steve. he kind of acts it out w/ moaning (etc) but w/o ever touching steve (and steve comes untouched). there was a lot of dirty talk and a possible praise kink but i can’t fully remember. thanks in advance!

vicstitches said:

Hi sorry to bother you but I just lost a fiction and can't find it it had Bucky hiding in the tower and was called the phantom bit then Steve gets hurt and he helps him with a night mare sorry if it's vage but I really liked the story

miraishu and dolphinqueen10 sent in I, Barnes by debwalsh (complete | 76,702 | E)

Anon 7 said:

Hey I'm looking for a sugar daddy steve fanfic. He was a cop and so was Sam at some point they took some fake ID's. And Bucky had a job as a bouncer or something along those lines. Bucky became friends with Peter as well. Please help!!

Anon 8 said:

Hey guys, you do a marvelous job here and I love this blog so much, I'm looking for a fic where steve was supposed to kill tchalla to get to bucky, but he couldn't since Sam and tchalla were together and he couldn't do that to sam? It's very vague but I've been looking for this a long time! Thanks in advance!

Anon 9 said:

hi! i've looked all over and cannot figure out if this fic was a fever dream or not. all i remember is that bucky is in france, i think with steve as his carer? i'm pretty sure they're in 'le crotoy' in northern france? thanks for any help!!!

princessniitza sent in What’s left behind by Niitza (complete | 14,578 | T)

Anon 10 said:

So I'm looking for a fic that wasn't really that long but it was focused on Steve being away while he served in the military and some of the howlies were part of his unit. They would swap stories of their partners and the entire time they thought Bucky was a woman until they landed back home and saw that Bucky was actually a man. It's driving me crazy not being able to find it!

Anon 11 said:

hey this one is super vague so don't worry if you can't find it!! I once read a fic that was set post tws, a recovery fic where a major plot point was the bucky didn't know what dreams were. he was having them for the first time now that cryo was out of the picture, etc. and i remember steve and nat were in it. again, sorry for the ambiguity!

Anon 12 said:

Hi! I've been looking for a fic where Bucky and Steve are living together, and Bucky is working on recovering. There's a specific moment where they invite the other Avengers for either Christmas or Thanksgiving? And Bucky writes everyone letters as a gift and Steve draws them bracelets around their wrists. It was a pretty long fic too and I can't seem to find it in my bookmarks. Thanks!

[our-heroes-rise]

Hi there!!! First time requesting... I'll use this chance to request a Midoriya x reader story where reader is small breasted, tall, thin, shy at the beginning, cheerful when they're comfortable, nerd, gamer, wears glasses, brunette and olive skinned. I'll leave the plot on your capable hands, I just want a happy ending, please!!! Izuku and reader ending up together!!! Thank you so much!!!

i think i had a bit too much fun writing this, haha. i deeply apologize for the ridiculously long wait though, hun, and i hope you enjoy what i’ve written for you. i rewrote this three times then finally got something i was happy with on the third try. think i’ll try to incorporate the “realistic” messages more often, they’re sure fun to make. anyway, hope you like it!

———————————————————————

Your fingers thrummed anxiously against the hardwood table as you stared blankly at the textbook before you, not at all taking in the very much helpful information it provided for figuring out the problem you had been stuck on for the past ten minutes. It wasn’t entirely your fault that you couldn’t bring yourself to focus though.

Ten minutes. They were all ten minutes late.

It wasn’t normal for all of them to be late. Momo was always on time -- always early, in fact. She never allowed herself to be less than five minutes early. Which was why you were extremely surprised when you entered the small coffee shop to find your friend’s usual table vacant of the beautiful high black ponytail.

There were no new messages in the group chat, you had already checked about a million times since you had arrived.

Nothing to let you know that anyone would be running late, or had canceled plans. It was so unlike Momo -- so unlike everyone, honestly. And it made you nervous.

Had something happened to them? Did a message not get through to you or something? What if they had all said that they couldn’t make it and he showed up expecting everyone to be here but all he found was you sitting at a table by yourself? Oh God, that would make it look like you lied to him. Would he be mad and want to leave? Why would he want to stay? He had probably only said he would come because he didn’t want you to feel bad if he rejected your offer.

That didn’t make sense anyway, he was in the group chat so even if you didn’t get the message that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. Why would he even bother coming then?

Dear Lord, you wished your brain would shut up.

Two years. Two whole stupid years you have had a crush on him and never once had you tried to “shoot your shot”, as Mina would put it. You would face a hundred villains and All Might himself before you decided to muster up the courage to shoot your dumb friggin shot and face the possible embarrassment of rejection. It had taken you months to actually stand there like a big girl and have a decent conversation with him without stumbling over your words and averting your eyes away from him every two seconds. Then even longer to just ask him to hang out with you.

But not alone. God, no, not alone. You had to have other people there or else it would be too intimate, at least with other people you could have other things to distract yourself with if things got awkward. Keeping up a conversation with people you liked or weren’t extremely familiar with wasn’t exactly your forte. Your brain always seemed to draw a blank, which made normal human interaction a pain.

If you got stuck alone here with him you weren’t sure that you could forgive your friends for ditching, unless something really serious had happened. Geez, how would you even focus on your work? The study session hadn’t entirely been a ploy made up by your friends and yourself just to get to spend time with your crush. You had actually planned to study for the upcoming math test. You weren’t exactly terrible at math. Usually, you didn’t have much of a problem with it, but this unit had been utter hell, to put it bluntly. If someone is trying to become a hero, why do they need to know how to calculate the length and space between a curve on a graph? Really, what was the point?

A shrill ping echoed through your headphones, interrupting your blaring music and causing you to flinch slightly out of your thoughts.

Your eyes narrowed as they trailed further and further down the paragraph, suspicion settling into the pit of your stomach. All three of your most family-oriented friends forgot they had previous arrangements with their families? Doubtful. Mina getting food poisoning sounded about right, she sat with Sero and Kaminari during lunch sometimes, who are always daring her to eat disgusting food combinations. Jirou offering to help take care of said sick Mina? Absolutely not. Jirou can not stand to be around sick people, it grosses her out. She would rather spend ten minutes flirting with Bakugou than smell another person’s food-poison vomit.

If they had wanted to lie they should have tried a little harder to make it believable.

You weren’t going to call them out on it, though. Not once the realization dawned on you that your friends had, in undeniable fact now, left you all alone with your crush. And on purpose.

Why do they hate me?!

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, at a loss for what to say, until you saw his message slide through the chat.

Your heart lurched into your throat at his question. Now was your chance to ditch, to reschedule the plans for another time, and you were already typing up your excuse when another message pinged through your headphones.

This was completely unfair. They had all promised to be here with you and now they were all dropping out on you at the last second like they had planned this all along. Which, honestly, is probably what they had done.

You let out a heavy sigh, slumping further down into your seat, textbook and notes completely forgotten.

Truly, you knew your friends meant well in all of this, you just wished they had chosen a better way to go about it.

But, there really isn’t a better way, is there?

You certainly weren’t going to make the first move and Midoriya probably wasn’t either - if he even liked you that way. Despite the great amount of confidence he had gained over the past few years, mostly regarding his fighting style and the way he spoke to Bakugou, he could still be easily flustered, even if it wasn’t as common as before. So, no, you supposed there definitely wasn’t a better way your friends could have pulled this off.

Another heavily anxious sigh pushed past your lips as you fixed your slouching posture and reopened the group chat.

You let your fingers loom over the keyboard, once again, seriously contemplating your original idea to take a raincheck. Midoriya wouldn’t be upset with you, he would be completely understanding, especially if your excuse was good enough. Period cramps were a thing, ya know? Sometimes they caught you off guard and maybe you just didn’t -

Oh, for Christ’s sake, screw it.

That wasn’t too bad.

No, it was perfectly fine and he would be here in a few minutes.

He would be here in a few minutes.

Oh, for the love of All Might, he would be here, with you, alone, in a few God forsakenly short minutes and you had not a clue in the whole stupid world how this was going to go. You were panicking, a sort of pathetic amount, if you were going to be honest with yourself.

This was just Midoriya.

Midoriya, the cute nerdy kid who was the absolute sweetest person you had ever met in your entire life. The I Can And Absolutely Will Give My Life To Protect Everyone I Know And Love, Midoriya. The Midoriya who could shatter ten brick walls with less than a fifth of his power and still have enough to fend off three hundred more waiting villains.

Midoriya, the kindest, most gentle, and fiery soul you had ever known. The soul you had so stupidly allowed yourself to fall in love with these past few years.

Love.

That was a strong word, but something about it felt right when you applied it to your feelings for the gentle green-haired boy, which was a little terrifying, considering that most of his perspective of you was largely unknown. It was probably just your overly hormonal teenage brain trying to convince you that this emotion could only be found in the green eyes of the one and only class nerd. That didn’t matter anymore though. You knew you had already let yourself fall too far from the cliff edge to have any hope of saving yourself now.

Screw it, you repeated to yourself, tossing your phone back onto the table to resume staring blankly at your textbook, your brows only slightly more furrowed than before.

You had already started digging this grave two years ago, fully aware of the consequences, might as well finish it up and lay in it, nothing worse could come of it. Except, maybe, being buried alive and suffocating under the weight of your own regret.

It’ll be fine. It’s just Izuku. My friend. My friend... that I’ve had a crush on for -

It was a long - but still too short - couple of minutes.

Midoriya arrived at the cafe ten minutes later looking surprisingly out of breath. The freckled bridge of his nose and cheeks were a bright rosy red, bitten from the crisp winter evening air. He slumped into the chair across from you, flashing you the brightest smile you had ever seen while he set his bag down beside him.

“Sorry, I’m late,” He said, voice garbled through the noise of your headphones, which you immediately yanked out. “I was talking to Kirishima and completely lost track of time. I’m glad you waited for me though.”

“O-Oh, it’s okay,” you stammered, doing your best to return his smile just as confidently, though you were sure anyone could see how terribly flustered you already were. “I really hadn’t been waiting that long, I’m just happy you were able to come.” His breathing still sounded slightly labored as he pulled out his notebook and Algebra textbook, your brow quirked up in curiosity. “Izuku, did you run all the way here or something?”

A flush that you know has nothing to do with with the cold flares up his entire face to the tips of his ears, and his green eyes flicker sheepishly towards yours. “Uhm - Well, yeah, I felt bad for keeping you waiting for so long. Don’t worry, it was just a couple of blocks, I’m okay.” A small breathless laugh bubbled past his lips, “I’m thankful for Aizawa’s endurance training though.”

“Yeah,” you laughed with him, too aware of the heat you felt crawling up your neck. He had actually ran all the way from the dorms to the coffee shop just for you, because he felt guilty for keeping you waiting, even if it had only been a couple of minutes.

It was silly for you to dwell on such a thing, honestly. Midoriya really was just that type of person, it wouldn’t be considered a big deal to anyone else, but to you it meant the world. And you couldn’t do anything to tame the butterflies in your stomach when you pictured him, face scrunched with slight panic and focus as he rushed through the evening crowds all the way here, just to get to you quicker.

“I know it’s a bit late and all,” Midoriya mumbled, bringing you back into reality with a small jolt that, thankfully, went completely unnoticed by him as he still had his face in his bag. “But did you want anything from the cafe? I brought some money with me.”

“No, I’m okay, thank you though.” You were wide awake right now, caffeine wouldn’t do anything but make your nerves worse.

A small frown tugged at the corner of his mouth once he came back up from his bag, beaten up All Might wallet in hand. It was a challenge not to crack a smile in its direction. “You sure? I really don’t mind getting you something. I feel like I should pay you back for waiting for me.”

You rolled your eyes picking up a playful smile so he knew you weren’t actually irritated with him. “I told you, it’s fine, Izuku. You didn’t keep me waiting long, I promise.” You waved a hand in the direction of the cafe bar, “If you want to get something, go ahead, I don’t mind waiting a few more minutes.”

Midoriya paused for a moment, casting his gaze off to the side for a second before he shook his head. Seemingly having made a decision he tucked his wallet back into his backpack and gave you a warm grin. “I’m fine, I was really just asking for you, but I’m glad you’re not upset. You’re really too sweet, Y/n. Anyway, was there anything you wanted to go over first? Ochaco said you were struggling with-”

But your mind had started buzzing the second his compliment had reached your ears. A part of your brain was screaming at yourself to get a grip and the other part of you just really, really wanted to hear him say it again with that same heart-melting smile of his.

“Yeah,” you said absently, unaware as to what you were actually agreeing to. You knew the smile you were giving him must have made you look like a lovesick puppy ready to barf rainbows, yet you didn’t have enough properly operating brain cells to make you care. “We can start with that first.”

“Okay, that’s great! I have some notes you can look over if you want, or I can explain it if you’d like. I was also having trouble with this, but Iida was able to explain it to me in a way that actually makes sense, so I can try to explain it the same way. Is that alright?”

It took all of your focus to make yourself look down at the notebook he was holding out for you and actually process the words written on the paper. Then another few seconds for you to realize that you had no clue what in the hell the notes were talking about. Yeah, you definitely couldn’t zone out anymore or else you would be utterly screwed by the time the test came around.

“Uh, explain it, please?” you mumbled, casting a quick shy glance in his direction. “If you don’t mind.”

He chuckled and the sound made the heat in your cheeks grow a little hotter. “Not at all. So, the way Tenya explained it was like this...”

It was quite a feat to keep your brain focused on the task at hand rather than on the way Midoriya’s hand would brush against yours every once in a while when he was showing you how to solve a problem. Or the way his nose crinkled when he thought something you did was funny, but clearly didn’t want to laugh at for your sake. Or the way he had asked if he could sit next to you instead of across from you because it would be a lot easier for him to show you what he was doing. And the way his warm shoulder - covered in a large grey hoodie that had no right looking that good on him - pressed gently into yours.

It had been a difficult battle, but you had won. By the end of the night, you were caught up on everything you hadn’t understood in Algebra a couple hours prior. Midoriya grinned proudly down at your practice problems, unable to find a single mistake this time.

“You’re a really quick learner, Y/n,” he laughed, tilting his head to look back at you, his green eyes sparkling. “Are you sure you needed my help in the first place?”

You flushed, letting out a small giggle. “Oh, definitely,” you responded softly from behind the hand you had brought up to cover your mouth. “I didn’t know what the heck I was doing until you got here. It all just looked like a bunch of-”

“You shouldn’t hide your smile like that. It’s too beautiful to keep hidden.”

“H-Huh?” Oh, your face was totally on fire now.

Had you heard him correctly?

“I-I mean - U-Uhm - I’m really sorry!” Midoriya stammered, his hands immediately flying up into the air as if he didn’t know where to put them anymore as he quickly shuffled away from you on the booth. “That was really weird of me to say, sorry. I just - well, uhm - just -” he moved his text book over towards him and stared intensely at it, obviously intent on not making anymore eye contact with you.

Which was the absolute last thing you wanted right now, but you were still trying to wrap your head around everything that had just happened. That wasn’t the usual Midoriya compliment. He didn’t tell all of his friends how beautiful he thought there smiles were. It didn’t even seem like he had meant to say it in the first place, he was so flustered now.

“Was there - uhm - anything else you wanted to go over? I’m pretty much caught up on everything, so it’s - it’s whatever you want to do.”

Well, that definitely caught your attention. “You’re caught up on everything?” You asked slowly, brain still buffering severely. Midoriya nodded, green curls bouncing with the jerky movement. He didn’t look at you though. “Izuku, did you rush all the way out here just to help me?”

Again, not a thing Midoriya wouldn’t naturally do on his own, but the way he was reacting was a clear sign that this wasn’t just because of that fantastically kind heart of his. Warm hope, that you didn’t have the willpower to crush, bloomed large and all consuming within your chest.

He nodded once again, but this time you caught the apprehensive glance he shot at you from the corner of his eye. “Y-Yeah.” You noticed how prominent his freckles looked against the firey color of his cheeks, and it made your heart flutter. Midoriya let out a heavy sigh before finally looking back towards you, textbook forgotten. “Ochaco said it was a good idea for us to hang out together because - well - I - she knows that I - that I’ve liked you for a while.” The last part was barely loud enough for you to hear over the night time rush of the cafe, but your ears had most definitely not failed you that time.

“M-Me?”

Yes, you idiot! Who else would he be talking about?

Ochaco had known about it. Your best friend had known about it and hadn’t told you? Had let you keep your feelings for him buried deep within your heart for all of that time.

You couldn’t blame her, no matter how terribly you wanted to. You knew Ochaco did it with the best intentions. Ochaco wasn’t one to go around spilling everyone’s secrets. She had probably kept hope that Midoriya - or maybe you, even though the chances of that were slim to none - would finally admit to one another. That made this grand scheme of hers her way of telling you and Midoriya that even she had gotten tired of waiting for you two.

“Yeah, I told her this was a bad idea and that you probably didn’t feel the same way, but she insisted,” he added quickly, hands gone back to moving around the air awkwardly. “I’m really sorry that I’ve made this really weird now, I - I can leave if you want.”

Without thinking - just as you had been through out the course of this entire conversation - your hand shot out to wrap around one of his to keep him in place, even though he had made no indication of getting up.

“No!” You winced at your sudden volume, face burning again. “No, you can stay. Trust me, you haven’t made it weird, I’m just - uhh - trying to, I guess, process everything. Give me a second, please?”

Midoriya looked visibly stunned, but nodded his quick jerky nod nonetheless, bouncing his green curls again. Your brain ran through everything he had just said over and over until you were absolutely positive you hadn’t imagined any of it. Until you were absolutely positive that the boy you had so stupidly allowed yourself to fall for had just admitted having feelings for you. It wasn’t a trick of your mind from lack of sleep or too many hours of work, Midoriya had really just said all of that. That he thought your smile was too beautiful to hide, that he had ran all this way not because he needed to study but because he wanted to make sure you didn’t need his help, that he liked you. But not just liked you, he had liked you for a while.

A while. How long was that?

Probably not as long as you, but the answer didn’t matter. You were sure that he could have told you it was for the past couple of hours and you would still be just as happy.

A gentle squeeze around your hand from calloused fingers pulled you back to Earth, and you looked down to find that his hand - only slightly bigger than yours - was still wrapped up tightly in your own as if you were too scared to let go of him, scared he would disappear like the remnants of a dream.

“A-are you sure I didn’t make it weird?”

You laughed breathlessly, a bright grin lighting up your face as you lifted your eyes to meet his. His shoulders had relaxed a tiny bit, but his emerald eyes were still swimming with anxiety, even when you shook your head no.

“I’m - I’m sure, Izuku. I promise you didn’t make it weird.” You glanced down to pull his hand into your lap as you shifted in your seat to face him properly. Truthfully, you should have let go of his hand a while ago, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it yet. At least, he didn’t seem to mind. “I just - I dunno - I guess, I thought I would never be able to hear you say those words and I’m still having a hard time believing that you’ve even said them-”

“I said them!” He jumped in, the anxiety replaced by overwhelming joy. “That was all real, trust me, my heart is still pounding from the anxiety.” He let out a shaky laugh to which you joined him in. “I wasn’t at all sure how tonight was going to go. All Ochaco had told me was that I should trust her and that everything would be fine and, honestly, I didn’t know whether to believe her or not. But then when I got here and I saw you I knew there was no way I could keep this from you anymore. I had planned to tell you on the way home, except, well, I guess spending all of this time alone with you was enough to push me over the edge.”

You grinned and softly breathed, “I’m glad.”

——

There hadn’t been many people left out on the streets, this part of town never really got busy after dark because there were no bars or clubs. Only small shops and businesses that closed no later than ten lined this city block and every city block within a five mile radius of U.A. The frosty night air nawed at the warmth from your cheeks, washing them with a deep shade of scarlet. You curled into the warmth of your thick wooly sweater, thankful that you had thought to put it back on before leaving the cafe.

One of your hands took refuge in your cozy double sleeve so that it was no more than a nub of thick cloth, while the other, wound frigid fingers through the tender warmth his hand provided. A small, content smile adorned your face as you walked closely together, shoulders brushing with each step, to conserve the heat between you two.

Midoriya was beaming. He hadn’t stopped since he had left the cafe with his hand in yours, heart singing in delight at the sensation of your fingers slotted perfectly through his, like the missing pieces of a puzzle. His joy and excitement was so clearly bubbling past the brim of his self-control, you were sure that if he could smile any brighter that he would, just to show how proud he was to be holding your hand.

Neither of you said anything on your walk back to the dorms. You didn’t have to and neither did he, even if his posture said that he could barely contain himself. Midoriya could speak if he wanted, knew that without a shadow of a doubt, but he chose not to. He chose to walk with you, hand intertwined with yours, on a blissfully quiet trip back to the dorms, basking in your presence. Just as you did so happily with him.

Minutes pass much too quickly though, and it seems like you’re upon the entrance steps of the dorms only seconds later. He pauses and you stop with him, turning to face him, eager for the buildings heat, but more eager to understand the hesitation that flickers in his gaze. Another moment of silence passed before he turned to you, freckled cheeks flushed a bright red that once more has to do with far more than just the cold.

You wait patiently, eyes soft and mouth still pulled into a gentle smile that wordlessly urges him to speak his mind. He takes you in for one last moment, his beaming grin grown slightly muted as he searches for the confidence he needs, which he quickly finds resting in your own gaze.

“I - uhm - I just wanted to thank you,” he started quietly, “for making tonight so amazing. I really can’t tell you how happy it made me.”

Oh, you were going to swoon, truly.

This boy...

After all that he had done for you tonight, he still wanted to thank you. To thank you. When all you had done was show up and bottle up your feelings for the past two years. You didn’t deserve him and you weren’t sure if the universe had already realized its mistake, but there was no way in hell you were going to give him back now.

“Izuku,” you sighed, your smile lifting fondly at the edges, “I should be the one thanking you here. You went through all of this trouble today just to help me out and if it weren’t for you I would still be sitting there with that stupid text book and my harbored feelings not knowing what the heck I was supposed to do. So, thank you for all that you did for me tonight and making it one I will forever remember.”

His mouth fell open in a look of awe and soft adoration, then within one swift step forward, he swooped down and gently pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was short and sweet, a fleeting brush of his lips, but it was enough to warm your entire body in a flood of overwhelming heat.

Midoriya pulled away, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, likely matching your own, and gaze slightly chagrined. “S-Sorry, I should have asked.”

You beamed, shaking your head vigorously as you moved to wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your forehead to rest against his, “Stop apologizing for silly things and kiss me again.”

“S-Sor - I mean - wait, really?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling at the genuine surprise in his eyes, it was adorable. “Yes, Izuku, yes, kiss me again.”

And so he did. With a grin that reflected your own, he pressed his lips against yours once more, this time more firmly than the first, and brought his hands to your hips to pull you closer.

The night wasn’t so cold anymore. He warmed your heart, your chest, your body, your soul. Everything you could ever ask for, he was a brilliant pillar of light that radiated comforting heat and he was all yours. Your own personal ray of sunshine that you would hold on to for as long as you could.

———————————————————————

✨ written 10/9/19 ✨

[manuelmueller]

Neuller 18 anger bitte!

ANGER 18: “I didn’t ask you to do that!” 

–––––

Not hiring a moving company had seemed like a good idea at first. After all, they had more than enough time to move everything out of the Berlin apartment out on their own, considering they both had been facing retirement for a good few years now and had more free time that they knew what to do with.

But then, after they’d already stored all the bigger furniture they intended to keep and bring back to Munich into the back of a truck with the help of a few neighbours and had bid them all goodbye afterwards – because surely, with the help of an elevator, moving a few lamps, books and side tables downstairs couldn’t be that difficult – said elevator had broken down.

Which, to quote Thomas, was “ever so slightly inconvenient”. 

Well, Manuel thought, as he finished up packing the last of the cardboard boxes as he stored the last handful of books into them, that was one way to put it.

He’d bought this place when he’d not even been thirty yet, hadn’t dated Thomas and real estate investments were still a good idea. Now, as he was approaching his mid-seventies faster than he would ever like to admit, looking after it was just a hassle to deal with, and they never really used it anymore anyway. 

Sometime about ten years ago, constantly switching your living quarters – if only for a couple days a month – had lost its appeal. Maybe it had started when Manuel’s feet had started aching every morning when he got out of bed, or when Thomas started coughing every winter and blamed it on the dry air every time but they both suspected that it was probably something more permanent than that. Or maybe big city life just wasn’t for them anymore – Manuel didn’t really know. He didn’t really care, either, but in the end he’d just been glad when he’d finally made the decision to call a real estate agent and to sell it.

It would be a family of four buying it, she had informed them. Manuel was pleased with that. He’d always liked children, even though he and Thomas never had any of their own, and as his eyes flicked through the hallway, he imagined tiny little feet running around on the warm-toned wooden floorboards, climbing up on the window sills to peer down at the little park in the inner courtyard or trying to reach up to the kitchen counters to snoop in their parents’ pans.

Yeah, it would be a place well suited to a young family, he thought, only shaken out of his musings by a loud shuffle, causing him to lift his head.

Thomas had appeared in the doorframe, crouching down, picking up the last of the cardboard boxes. Frowning, Manuel realized that he must have already hauled the rest of them downstairs too when he hadn’t been paying attention.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” He hated the annoyance in his own voice, but he knew that Thomas must be out of breath by now, that he shouldn’t have done all of this on his own–

His husband grinned one of his sparkling grins, one that still made him look like the young man Manuel had fallen in love with more than forty years ago. Thomas still had a youthful air to him, even with his salt-and-pepper hair, the crinkles by his eyes deep and the laughter lines by his mouth countless. Only when he looked closer, taking in his body that had once been lithe with lean muscle, and how almost fragile he seemed now, taking in his posture that was a little more bowed, was Manuel reminded that even Thomas hadn’t escaped the years unscathed.

“I’m fine, sweetheart, don’t worry.” 

Thomas winked. His voice was raspier than it used to be, too, but Manuel loved it that way, the way it always felt like a tender caress in the mornings, how it reminded him that he’d been so lucky, being able to wake up with his head on Thomas’ chest for forty-three years now.

Yet, Manuel felt his eyebrows draw tighter together, something coiling in his stomach, pressing his lips tighter together. He didn’t say anything, but he wasn’t as foolish as to believe that Thomas hadn’t noticed. 

His husband sighed, putting down the box with a tiny little groan, before crouching down, mustering Manuel intensely.

“I know you hate it when I don’t let you help.”

Manuel just barely suppressed a huff. They’d known each other for fifty years, and yet, in moments like this, it still a bit annoying, how easily Thomas was able to read him – even if it was not surprising in the least.

Thomas extended his hand, gently putting it on Manuel’s, thumbing over his knuckles and over the spots that had appeared on the back of his hand over the past few years.

“Babe, I saw you rub your knees half an hour ago. I don’t want you to hurt any more than necessary.”

God, Thomas. Sweet, considerate, amazing Thomas.

Manuel hated it, hated how sometimes now, more than ever, it was obvious that his husband was the younger of the two of them, that he had obtained less injuries during his active career. Hated how his feet and his knees gave him trouble every day, and how, apart from weekly physio sessions that only could only do so much to relieve the chronic pain, this was something he had to live with now. Hated how it restricted him, sometimes, how he wasn’t able to go hiking anymore, how he had to sometimes sit down when he took their dog for a walk. 

In the end, he knew it couldn’t be helped, and he was thankful that Thomas was looking out for him; but still, it sometimes was a tough pill to swallow, that the ache in his legs would never fully fade anymore. But still, the warmth pooling in his stomach as Thomas looked at him so fondly managed to override the bitterness so effortlessly, and so, he bit his tongue, and instead allowed a smile taking over his features.

“Thanks, Thommy,” he mumbled, getting up with a repressed groan.

After sitting on them for half an hour, his knees felt even worse for wear. Begrudgingly, he once again silently admitted that his husband had been right, just like he’d always been, for all those years.

Thomas’ responding smile was as warm, and when he reached out, putting his hands on Manuel’s waist, pulling him closer, Manuel had no intentions to stop him. Thomas’ lips met his cheek, his beard scratching at Manuel’s skin in a way that was so comfortingly familiar, the same way his laughter was balm to his ears and his hands the anchor to his silly heart.

But it was only when they closed to doors of the van, Thomas getting behind the wheel, humming a song they’d heard on the radio earlier that day, slowly steering them out of town, that Manuel realized:

They might have been old, and grey, and their bodies were giving them grief, but throughout all of it, every bump, every hiccup, they’d always had each other.

And growing old with the love of your life, being just as besotted with each other, if not more, than when they’d shared their first kiss?

Yeah, that made Manuel feel like the luckiest man in the world.

emotional prompts – closed!

[arthur-morgan-slap-my-ass]

First Light

Anonymous said: How do you feel about some soft touching and kissing with Arthur, maybe throw in some smut if you feel like it? *wink wink*

AN: According to my girlfriend, reading this is like clicking in a pornhub link, so I hope y’all like it. It’s really sweet and cute and I wrote is part of a challenge to her!!!! As always, thank u bby @winters-uprise for being my beta and forcing me to write!!!

Word Count: 2500 of tooth rotting smut

Summary: Nature getaways, soft touching in the dark, lovey dovey moments, a true unthinkable amount of sweet possessiveness, sleepy sex (in a way) and a lot of ‘i love you’s.

Consider supporting the writer and donating to my Ko-Fi!

Stirred from sleep, you lazily registered the distant feeling of someone touching you. It was late — far too late for the lights to still be on, the only source of it being the half-dead bonfire Arthur had lit a few hours ago when putting together your camp. You kept your eyes closed, slowly coming to your senses and breathing softly against the man’s chest; hot and solid, next to your face.

“That’s it,” Arthur cooed gently, swiping your hair from your face to press a kiss to the dip between the corner of your eye and nose, “nice ‘n easy.”

Your brain slowly started to catch up to the moment and the slow rocking of Arthur’s hands between your thighs. His fingers were already knuckle deep in your already sore pussy, his essence from earlier adding up to your growing wetness. His knee pressed up, parting your thighs further and you whimpered, trying to open your eyes; still groggy.

“Arthur—“

“No talkin’,” he cut you with a hoarse voice, “eyes closed, yeah, jus’ like that.”

His lips pressed to your neck, his body coaxing yours to go limp under the naughty attention he was showering you with. You keened lowly, fisting at the soft fabric of his sleepshirt in desperation. Arthur hummed, nibbling on the sweet spot just below your jawline.

“Ain’t no one that can make you feel like that,” he whispered in your ear, so intoxicatingly sweet it left you dizzy and breathless, “ain’t that so, sweetheart?”

You nodded quickly, moaning quietly as Arthur bit down on the junction between your neck and shoulder. The pad of his thumb brushed on your clit, making you jolt under the weight of his body and eliciting a pleased growl from him. Your breathing quickened and you tried to keep your eyes squeezed shut, spreading your thighs some more for him and the sensations he had to offer.

It burned a little, but you didn’t mind — at times, neither you or Arthur wanted to be slow and gentle, the loving caresses you’d trade in your tent back at the camp never enough to quench your thirst and need for each other. His fingers scissored your pussy, torturously slowly, with a deliberate sense of purpose that evaded your mind for the time being.

“Pretty,” Arthur cooed once more, his voice dripping with praise, “so pretty, sweetheart,” he brushed his thumb more firmly down on the little bud of nerves and you hiccupped a gasp, turning your face to press it to the thickness of his neck. “Easy, easy…”

You opened your mouth, wanting to say something — anything —, but ultimately decided against it and snapped it shut. Arthur chuckled darkly, pressing a kiss to your forehead, a silent praise to your obedience as he started pumping his fingers slowly; middle and index fingers making slow come-hither motions. If you were in a better state of mind, not as drowsy and pliable, the sound of your wetness would’ve caused you to blush and hide your face in embarrassment, but that wasn’t the case.

“Wanna come for me?,” Arthur asked in a hushed voice, a soft teasing lilt to it, a condescending tone that wouldn’t appear during daytime. You nodded, because of course you did, keening lowly at his words. “I know, darlin’… keep goin’, that’s it…”

His fingers prodded further and this time you gasped when he pushed them deeper and rubbed up against the tender spot that made you see stars. You cried softly, moaning from deep within your chest, and Arthur encouraged you with low praises and gentle kisses. The contrast was intoxicating, the tenderness he offered when kissing and touching you against the harsh tone he had used on you earlier and the imposing instance he had adopted now.

“Make the prettiest lil’ sounds, don’t ya?,” he teased, slowing the rocking of his fingers in your pussy — and you whined in protest, clasping a hand around his forearm with a feeble sort of desperation. Arthur smiled, seemingly amused, “what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You squirmed under him rubbing your thighs together and canting your hips more fully towards his touch. You knew he was trying to make you speak up, teasing to see if you’d break, but you held back. Squeezing his wrist, you pushed at his hands, giving a shuddering breath when he brushed his thumb on the small bundle of nerves on top of your pussy.

“You want this?,” Arthur inquired, rubbing your clit slowly in a wide circle, but you wanted — needed — more. “Like that, huh?”

Shaking your head, you spread your thighs further, eyes still closed and oblivious to just how much the man could see of your wanton display. You were shivering, breathing harshly and quite fairly beyond yourself with pleasure. Arthur hummed in satisfaction.

“Yer so wet for me, sweetheart,” he commented, the soft lilt of tease back in his voice. It was amazing how Arthur was able to drive you up the walls with want, how he was this loving man and a teasing devil in bed; both sides of a same coin you had grown to love with time. “I bet you really wanna cum now, ain’t that so?”

You nodded feverishly, clinging to his arm now; you wanted to plead and cry for him, make release come quicker for you, but he dragged on.

“That’s a good girl,” Arthur praised, now pressing down on your clit and resuming the pumping of his fingers, the remaining drips of his own come flowing out of your cunt and smearing the lips, “such a good, good girl…”

Feeling lightheaded and dizzy, you clung to him — his voice, his smell, his presence, just anything you could anchor yourself with. You opened your mouth in a silent plea, tensing up under Arthur’s knowing touch. He had always known how to work you up to orgasm, surprisingly so; with gentle touching and pressure just on the right spots and it was—

You moaned, clawing at his arm and not knowing where to hold onto — the fabric of the sleepshirt or his forearm between your legs. It was too much, you thought feebly, just too—

“Cum for me, darlin’,” Arthur commanded in a hushed voice, one that left no space for arguing and you did.

You cried out, canting your hips and trying to accompany his hand as they worked your orgasm out of your body, your mind going on overdrive and feeling fuzzy at the same time as you peaked over; but Arthur kept going, still his expert fingers in and out of your pussy in rhythm.

“That’s it,” he cooed when you keened softly, trying to push his hand away before it became too much, but he didn’t give in, “just givin’ what you needed, ain’t that so sweetheart?”

With a fervent nod of your head, you tried closing your thighs — a clear contradiction from your side on that matter, but you didn’t care, because Arthur was still touching you and—

He chuckled, pulling his fingers away from your pussy with an embarrassingly loud wet sound. You shuddered, heaving out a short lived breath — because Arthur pushed his fingers in your mouth, not roughly, not like that, but insistently. You took his digits in, sucking on your juices the way you knew he wanted, and that made him groan. Holding his hand in yours, you lapped at his fingers slowly, almost languidly, until they were clean and you were left with the pungent taste of your own release on your tongue.

“Good girl,” Arthur growled, pulling your mouth to his for a fervent kiss, all teeth and tongue, but you could tell he was just as sleepy as you, despite the arousal. “So good,” he kept praising, kissing your temple and coaxing you to nuzzle into his chest; and of course you did, making Arthur sigh and smooth the unruly curls of your messy hair.

But you weren’t done with him, not yet. Your hand caressed the small bit of exposed skin up from his chest to his neck, your lips finding the stubbly skin there and carefully nipping at it. Arthur hummed appreciatively and you could feel the tiny tremor of his body at your gentle touching, the way he’d always do when you kissed his neck. You still had your eyes closed, refusing to acknowledge the distant purple or daylight slowly creeping in; but still not enough to illuminate the woods around you.

“I love you,” Arthur breathed out, holding you in his arms in a lazy hug and you gave him a noncommittal answer from the back of your throat, one that you both knew meant that you loved him too. It was an inside joke, since you had said it first and Arthur had panicked for a second and did the same — simply hummed at your confession, all those months ago, before properly saying it. You thought it was adorable.

“Why do you get to talk now?,” you teased, snaking a hand below the coarse fur blanket to palm Arthur’s exposed sex. You both hadn’t bothered to dress up after having sex earlier that night. "Thought it was my turn to make ya feel good.”

Arthur shuddered a breath out, pulsing with interest in your hand. “Don’t get so cocky now, darlin’…”

You smiled wickedly, giving his shaft a gentle squeeze, to which Arthur responded with a soft groan. “So responsive, ain’t you?”

He chuckled lightly, shuffling his body closer to yours. “Stop teasin’ me,” he muttered, kissing your cheek, your eyelids and your forehead before settling to rest his chin on top of your head. “Just wanna have a good time…”

You started pumping him slowly, drawing a breathy moan from him. Arthur was always so responsive, with his small groans and held back moans; minimally vocal even at Camp to let you know just how much he loved it when you touched him. “Sound so good, Arthur…,” you whispered to him, kissing the faded scar on his chin; and Arthur shuddered when you swiped your thumb over the head of his sex.

“Yeah,” he agreed numbly, voice with the edge of a plea to it, his hips already thrusting shallowly against your hand. “Yeah,” he repeated, and you hummed sweetly at him, as if shushing his half pleas.

Arthur shivered when you picked up the pace, twisting your hand the way you knew he liked. “You’re so good, too,” you praised some more, now kissing his jawline, “so good, aren’t you?”

He moaned lowly, lips parting, and moved a hand to take a hold of your hip; touch heavy and hot on your bare skin. “This ain’t fair…,” Arthur complained weakly and you gave him another squeeze, cooing softly at his shivering breath. “You’re way better at this.”

“Shhh,” you hushed his complaint with a gentle press of your lips to his neck, giving it a teasing bite, “you sound so pretty like this, just can’t help it.”

You smiled pleasantly when Arthur moaned half in frustration and lust, his hips bucking against your hand in a sudden move. He sighed when you squeezed at his shaft, giving it a few more pumps before sliding your hand down to cup at his heavy balls; and at that, Arthur sucked a breath in. You were still to find out just how sensitive he was down there, but so far your careful and gentle prodding had proved fruitful. With a soft murmur of praise, you pecked at his lips, exploring fingers slowly caressing the sensitive skin and drawing out hushed curses and held back moans from him.

“I love you,” you whispered, careful to sound as intoxicatingly sweet as he had before when talking to you, “I love you so much.”

Arthur whimpered, moving his hand down to yours to make you hold onto his straining shaft, the skin of it velvety and the flesh firm under your touch. You hummed a small, “yeah?,” to him, to which he nodded and you didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was close and desperate. Pumping slowly, you drew the foreskin of his cock back to expose its head, and Arthur hiccupped a sinfully needy gasp; pulling your face to his for a needy kiss.

“I love you,” he managed in between kisses, with surprisingly soft voice despite the breathlessness. You quickened the pace, pumping him more quickly now and Arthur shuddered, pressing his forehead to yours and you could feel his breathing fanning over your face. Arthur shivered, hiccupping out the small aching sounds that he always did when he was able to get loud with you, and you pressed your lips to the high of his cheekbone.

With a sweet murmur, you brushed the sensitive skin of his face with the tip of your nose, in a loving motion, “do you wanna cum for me, darling?”

Arthur cursed, bucking his hips up into your hand and whimpered shortly after, and you noticed it wouldn’t be much longer from now. You made an understanding noise, almost condescending at him, kissing his face before settling for his lips where you nibbled at and pulled. He tensed then, breathing turning ragged and halted, and you pumped him faster, a sweet coo in your voice, “I love you.”

That seemed to be the breaking point for him, and Arthur moaned finally, his cock twitching in your hand as you felt the hot spurts of his cum splashing on your thighs and hip. You teased a few kisses out of him, his whole body and demeanor pliant and sweet for you, as he sighed his pleasure and you slowed down your stroking; not stopping yet to allow him to ride out whatever was left of his orgasm.

He canted his hips to you a few more times, sighing in pleasure at both your soft kisses and touching before stilling completely. You drew out one more spurt of cum from him, letting go of his cock when he hissed at the stimulus.

“Don’t know what I did to deserve ya,” Arthur commented with a small chuckle and you huffed at his comment, snuggling close to him and not minding the still warm cum on your leg.

“Ain’t getting rid of me that soon, lovey,” you whispered to the skin of his neck, pressing a soft kiss to the pulse point. You cracked your eyes open slightly, catching the glimpse of greyish morning sunlight, before closing them once more. It wasn’t time to get up just yet. “I love you.”

Arthur hummed something noncommittal, making you smile.

He’d wake you up again in a few hours for breakfast, you knew that, but you wanted to pretend there were no obligations for the both of you. No Camp to look after, no Dutch, no people to look after besides the both of you.

You’d pretend that this small piece of heaven was your reality.      

[heedra]

@1ore replied to your photoset “By beautiful coincidence my beloved sister @steeplewack  and my dear...”

everyone draws pho with such a kind face... i want to know more about him. he seems so nice.

You’ve activated my trap card i’m so sorry. I tried so many times to condense this post but i had to give up. Pho (whose actual name is Avenging Phoenix and whose name USED to be Ravenous Vulture Strips Clean the Bones of Creation) is a character i played for a really long time in Exalted, and refuse to put down even though his game is long over. 

I’ll spare u an in-depth description of the campaign bc it stretched over like 20 fucking years of in-game time. I was still in college at the time and I was really ass-deep in depression and struggling towards recovery, so I wanted to make a character who was at rock bottom and could only go up from there. Vulch started out his game as an ex-minion to a very powerful and very evil ghost, who had given him demigod status and saved him from death in return for life as an undead monstrosity whose very existence was in service in bringing about the end of the world. He’d eventually had a crisis of conscience which led to the last person he still really cared about from his mortal life being punished instead, and was kind of just desperately on the run without a real plan. When he joined the rest of the party it was as a recently-awol ghoul of a man who was pretty much completely eaten up by remorse and depression and self-hatred, and was only like...still anchored to wanting to life by the desire to avenge his mom’s ghost and put her fully to rest and the fact that one of the other partymembers was an old childhood friend he thought had died long ago. Over the course of the campaign he managed to slowly and agonizingly crawl upwards out of that pit, to make a lot of really deep connections with other people despite the fact his very nature as an abyssal cursed him for it. By the end, he’d gone from a guy who sat in the corner and waited for ppl to tell him what to kill to a guy who like would hurl himself headlong into trouble to hold out his hand to every person he saw who was also in a dark place. He became someone who decided he had to believe there was a chance that his old masters didn’t win, because if he didn’t he’d be letting down everyone who’d helped him get as far out of the pit as he had, so he got really intense abt it.

Even then tho, he wasn’t really thinking of his own future past avenging his mom and killing the Mask of Winters, he was kind of assuming he’d just like go off into the mountains somewhere and just fade out of everyone’s lives, so when those things actually happened, he had no idea what was going to happen next, and what ESPECIALLY smacked him upside the head at 10000 miles per hour was the fact that the sun god, who had been saved from self imposed exile by the party, took a long look at him and was like ‘come here i think you’ve got a smudge of black on you let me wipe it off’, and left him standing there as a living, breathing person again, full of the essence of the sun instead of the void. It really threw him a curveball, and he probably would have wandered around aimlessly reeling from it for a long time if his travels hadn’t taken him back to check in on a group of kids he and some other renegade abyssals had rescued from the lair of a ghost-witch they’d raided, upon which point he ended up staying there a week...and then a month...and then a year...and now he just lives there and is the official adoptive dad of at least one of them (Sachi, the other person in those images, who grows up to exalt as a Solar hersef, much to her dad’s parental anxiety).

So like Pho as a postgame character is a guy who was fully committed to seeing himself as a monster forever who was instead given a second chance at life, and who is still really struggling with how to reconcile with that, bc he’s got a lot of trauma to recover from and contrary to that the Unconquered Sun might have said he really doesn’t think he deserved it. If his arc during the game was about learning how to have something to live for again, he’s currently in the stage where he’s learning how to heal and to redefine himself outside of the violence that has set the tone of the whole rest of his life. He’s a gruff, tired barbecue dad who struggles with self worth and who would rather be planting sunflowers in his garden with his kids than doing any of the things people expect or want an extremely powerful elder Solar to do, and who can’t yet admit he’s really worth of Solarhood enough to show his face when he does without hiding beneath his old deathknight armor.

Also i think it’s really important to note that he inner monologues in a solid snake voice while doing mundane tasks, he has a mutated frog tongue (and a few mannerisms) because he ate obviously-cursed berries one time even though everyone told him not to, and despite being a maximum-strength combat-statted character he is the same height as danny devito.

[redthreadoffate]

(infinity) days of snow // c. 1 [tom hansen]

a repost, originally posted in my former writing blog

ship: tom hansen x oc

warnings: swearing; edited thrice in a span of…a few minutes so mistakes may be present

notes: i really enjoyed writing this before, super fun

summary: after summer is autumn, .after autumn comes winter. and during winter, there is snow.

(874)

“How’s the job hunting coming along?” Rachel asks. She ties her hair in a ponytail and looks out at the field. It’s the fifteen minute break from soccer practice and she decides to hang out with him instead. “Was working in Highland really giving you a break?”

“I’ve gotten a lot of callbacks,” Tom answers, not taking his eyes off his sketch-pad. “So yes, I’d like to think Highland gave me something. The ones that are accepting me are giving me a time period to think about it, I told them that I had other options and wanted to finish the prospects first. I’m having another interview tomorrow. It’s the last and the most important.”

“Impressive. Sounds like you aren’t even a jobless guy.” Rachel sneaks a peak at what he’s drawing. It’s a girl. “Which firm?”

He takes a deep breath and looks at the younger girl. “Avalanche Corporations.”

*~~*

(858)

Paul puts down his bottle of beer. “You’ve got an interview with Avalanche Corporations?” His jaw drops and his eyes look for any signs of a trick. “That's…huge!”

“That’s why my interview isn’t until two weeks from now. And that’s just me being lucky because someone was too chicken and had to cancel his appointment.”

“Why would anyone want to back out from their appointment in Avalanche?” McKenzie shakes his head. “They’re lucky enough to get an interview.”

Tom shrugs. “Right now, I only care that I’m able to have an interview. Now that I have a chance—”

McKenzie cuts him off, “An interview isn’t a chance.”

“—I might actually be a part of something bigger.”

*~*

(856)

He’d see her on the train sometimes, most of the time she’s looking around, as if she’s hiding from someone. He’d see her in the diner, too, eating regular meals as if they’re the most delicious things in the world. Sometimes at the karaoke bar, he’d find her drinking beer alone. He sees her in the park lots of times, too. But he never gave her much thought. She’s just a very pretty stranger that he regularly sees.

So imagine his surprise when he sees her in the entrance of the theatre talking to strangers who stop to listen but eventually leave her. He sees her sigh with disappointment and put her hands in her pocket. His legs take him to her and he asks, “Are you okay?”

She looks at him and shrugs. “Yeah. Just…,” heaving a breath, “would you like to watch Inception with me? I know you’ve probably seen it already but this theatre does show reruns and I have an extra ticket and I’m not very…I’m not really up to watching it by myself since I was supposed to be with someone and—”

“Sure,” he says, “why not? I was planning on watching that anyway.”

*~*

(858)

“And did you enjoy it?” McKenzie asks.

Tom looks away from the window and to the person in front of him. Paul is waiting for an answer, too. He hesitates and then nods, a small smile forming on his lips. “Yeah, I did.”

*~*

(856)

The night was going greater than he expected. She brings him to Sundae’s Best, an expensive ice cream restaurant, and she orders a treat without even looking at the menu and acting like it’s no big deal. She even asks him to get whatever he desires. “Just get anything,” she urges. And he gets a parfait he has always wanted to try.

He suddenly blurts out to her that had broken up with his girlfriend, Autumn, about a week ago and resigned from his job earlier that morning. She asks him why. “We were both the only candidates for a really big promotion. She’s always wanted it and so I let her have it. Everything was okay but I noticed the changes. I talked to her about it and when I told her she was my girlfriend…she told me that she’s also my boss.”

His companion cringes. “That really stings.”

He agrees. “Broke up with her the next day. My sister liked her but even she noticed that she was too work-oriented.”

“Do you have any job prospects?”

“A lot, but,” he looks out the window and eyes the tower with shining lights that says Avalanche Corps., “I’ve always wanted to work there,” he sees her look at the tower, too, “and I’ve been trying to get an interview but slots are always filled.”

“Will you promise me to try calling again?”

He raises his eyebrows but realizes that there’s nothing he would lose if he did. “Sure, one last time.” He shrugs. “What were you doing alone in the theatre and asking random strangers to watch a movie with you?”

“I was supposed to be watching with my dad but he…um…had a last minute business call and had to go back to work.” She smiles and takes the last bite of her ice cream cake. “I never asked you your name.”

“Tom. Tom Hansen.” He smiles at her. “I just spent a night with a total stranger. I’m just lucky she’s cute,” he flirts and notices her blush. “What’s your name?”

*~*

(858)

Paul raises his eyebrows and leans forward. “Well? What’s her name?”

“What’s her name, man?” McKenzie joins. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get it.”

“Did you get her number?”

“Are you going to see her again?”

“Tell us you’re going to see her again.”

“Can you at least show us how she looks like?”

“Yeah, surely she has a social networking site.”

“How many beautiful girls do you see and compare them to what that girl did to you.”

“Dude, you’ve got to go and get her.”

“Forget about Autumn! Didn’t you tell us that you expected something like that would happen?”

“She’s a career-oriented woman.”

“And they are not your type.”

Tom blinks and nods. “Right, her name. It's…”

*~*

(856)

“Snow.” She grins. “Snow Lanché.”

After taking that in for a few seconds, he grabs his jacket beside him and leaves right away, ignoring her when she asks what’s wrong. “Tom!”

*~*

Back to day (1)

(1)

He isn’t fully over Autumn. But he got the job at Avalanche and is now starting his first day. Rachel, who had wanted to wish him good luck on one of the most nerve-wracking days of his life, smiles at him. “You got this.”

*~*

(456)

He’s been working for Avalanche for a year and a few months and he loves it. He’s made friends, he’s gone out with a few women and has even become friends with his boss. “I like you, Tom,” he said once, “your ideas are different and I like that.” Mr. Lanché had been consulting with him personally since then. “I think you and my daughter, Ava, would be good friends.”

The only thing that sucks is that he hasn’t seen Snow. Not on the train. Not in the diner. Not in the karaoke bar. Not in the movie theatre. Not in Sundae’s Best. Not in the park.

During his free time he would draw her. However, there’s always something wrong with it, always wondering what he’s missing. So he’d flip onto another page or grab a new, clean sheet and start drawing again. When Paul and McKenzie noticed, they think that the excuse he gives them, “It’s not perfect,” he would say, is a lie.

*~*

(489)

With his headphones on and his bag stuffed with all he needs and a little too early for his liking, Tom is ready to go up to his desk and finish his endeavors for the day. When he reaches the building, he’s not entirely surprised that the elevator quickly opens and no one else is waiting but him. He goes in, punches his floor and waits for the doors to close as he tucks his headphones down. Already closed halfway, someone calls for the elevator to be put on hold. He does so and waits for the lady to come in.

She arrives, her head bent low as she’s rummaging inside her bag. “Sorry,” she says and then thanks him. “Usually I’m alone and I don’t normally care about getting the first ride I see, but I have to go upstairs and—” she looks up, “oh. Hello.”

He blinks. It’s the same pale face, her brown locks being held up in a bun, her brown eyes staring intently at him. It’s the lips, the smile, he can never perfect. “Hi.”

“You got the job,” she says, smiling. “I’m glad.”

“Do you work here, too?”

She laughs a little although it sounds as if there are undertones of irritation. “Well, of course. I don’t want to but—” she stops herself, “because I’m just…I’m the…I’m…a trainee! Yeah. I’m a trainee in the…um…research department.”

“Oh,” he nods, trying to search his mind for any news about new recruits, “you’re early.”

“I…left some files and I need to get them for my…report tomorrow…thought I’d sneak in and get them before anybody notices.”

“You haven’t pressed your floor,” he tells her.

She looks at the buttons and takes her time before pressing twelve. “You didn’t press close yet, either.” She presses the button a few floors below him and up they go.

*~*

(489)

“Is the company hiring again?” he asks Butch, one of his co-workers.

Butch shakes his head. “We’re a full house. You’re still the latest addition. Why?”

“I met someone in the elevator this morning. I kinda know her. She said she’s a trainee in the research department.” He cocks his head. “Was she lying?”

“Probably,” the other guy raises his eyebrows, “but you said you know her.”

“Yeah, we went on a sort of date once. She’s the reason why I called the company, actually,” he tells him. “She’s why I’m here.”

“Interesting.” Butch moves forward. “And how does she look like? I might have seen her around.”

Tom begins to describe her but something else catches his eyes. By the door, is the woman he had gone with to see Inception. “Like her.” He gestures.

Sasha, another of his co-workers who he’s a little close to despite his distaste of her eavesdropping habit, suddenly appears in between them. “Her? A trainee in the research department? That’s crazy, Tom. Are you sure?” She takes another look. “Are you very sure?”

“I’m very sure, Sasha,” he replies. He tries to catch her eye but she’s talking to the boss. When they finally make eye contact, her eyes widen and she turns around, talking once again to Mr. Lanché, he nods and immediately turns away. “She’s already close to the boss?”

“She’s a Daddy’s girl, Tom,” Butch says. “That’s Ava Lanché, dear boy. The Ava Lanché. Heiress to this very company. Daddy has a daughter and can’t resist naming her Ava.” He chuckles. “What were you saying about her being a trainee in the research department?”

“She said her name’s Snow,” is his reply. Lanché, he didn’t make the connection.

“That’s her nickname. She’s pale faced, beautiful and sweet. Like Snow. When she was younger she was a little on the chubby side and everyone made fun of her, with her name being something destructive and all, you know, avalanche, and there’s a resemblance on the physical side, you can imagine all the teasing. One day, during the start of a new academic year, she came to school looking all brand-new and became the ice princess. Cold. Like Snow.”

“She’s…the president’s…daughter,” he says quietly.

*~*

(490)

The sun wasn’t even up yet when he started getting ready. He was outside before the building was even open. He’s been waiting for about an hour now. The security guard and April Marie, the keeper of the front keys, greet him “good morning”. While opening the door, April Marie says, “You’re early, Tom.”

“I’m waiting for someone.”

And it all pays off. After she gets in an elevator, he rushes inside and waits for the machine to close before putting it in an emergency stop. “Did you have anything to do with this?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says without looking at him.

“Did you ask your father to hire me? The position I have now? My relationship with your father? Did you have anything to do with any of this? Be honest, Ava.”

“I only asked him to give you a chance, that he’d tell his secretary that if anyone named Thomas or Tom Hansen called for an interview, she should set up a schedule. It was just a coincidence that someone backed out and you got the slot. But I have nothing to do with all the other accusations. I swear. I didn’t even ask him to hire you. That was his choice.” She pauses. “And I don’t want you to call me Ava.”

They remain silent for the rest of the time until security and IT experts open the elevator. “Miss Lanché,” one of the men calls out to her, “we saw you in the camera footage, we thought you were stuck and—”

“My colleague and I were having a discussion, emergency stop,” she tells them.

“Oh,” they say. “Do you want us to close the doors again?”

Tom raises an eyebrow. Snow smiles a little. “No, it’s fine. We’re done talking.” She presses the last floor, just a floor above Tom’s, and thanks the workers. “We are done…aren’t we?”

He doesn’t reply, instead, he watches the numbers go by the elevator. When it dings and opens for him, he walks out but stops when Snow calls his name. “Do you wanna go out for coffee later? I’ll pick you up at around five?”

He turns around and sees her smiling hopefully. “Sure. Why not?”

*~*

(490-855)

The two had become very good friends. Tom looked past what had happened and they started anew (he did ask her how she managed to dodge him for a year, she replied that she memorized the building and could use her all-access ID to enter shortcuts). He never once called her Snow and continues to call her Ava. She had asked why once and he told her the reason, including why he ran out of the restaurant during their first meeting; she understood.

She explained to him why she didn’t want to take over the company and would rather be a teacher.

He brought her to the karaoke bar and helped her have fun; he even got her to sing a lot. And they go to his favorite spot in the park frequently.

They talk all day, constantly IM-ing each other during work hours and texting or calling when they’re free. Once she convinced her father that she could go home by herself during certain days, he never fails to bring her home and she insists he calls once he gets back to his own apartment. On weekends, despite having work to do—Tom with clients that he has to help and Snow with her father’s orders—they’re on the phone all night and would meet up during the day; sometimes, they’d abandon their work and have fun.

At one point, Snow had confessed to him her feelings, and although his feelings for her have also started to grow, he wasn’t prepared for another relationship and he didn’t want to ruin their friendship. “I’m sorry, I don’t…feel the same way.” She smiled and nodded, understanding. It hasn’t affected them at all. Until Zachary Williams.

[the-three-idiots]

To The Moon #5

Three years…

Three long years…

The past few months I have been helping Luna the best I can but I know a losing battle when I see one. I spent almost every coin I had on every option available but nothing worked. Luna looks at me sometimes and I don't think she can even recognise me.

She spends most days drawing and sleeping.

She's usually too weak to do anything.

Lysons Syndrome, a rare birth defect which meant she grew weaker and her memory would slip away. It’s fatal and her brother died of it years ago, no one survives it past twenty five...

She only told after she thought I was a doctor during one of her moments of amnesia.

It's been awhile since we've seen the moon together, those days seem like they were an eternity ago. It seemed that those days would never come back until suddenly, one day Luna asked if we could go up to the hillside. I smiled and gathered some things from around the village, blankets, lamps and of course, Berry Berliners.

I placed everything up on the hillside beforehand, fully knowing I would have to carry her.

I got back to her place to see Luna at her desk, she had finished writing a letter. She asked me to post it to a group called the Tales of Thedas, I didn't ask why. She Probably had some family in that group.

We walked up to the beginning of the hillside where I gave her a piggyback, there's no way she could walk up that hill. It took longer than it usually did. 

We got to the top and she jumped down before sitting herself down. I placed myself next to her and Luna, seemingly out of instinct, placed her head on my shoulder. She grabbed my hand.

We sat sitting on that hillside for hours before I remembered the Berry Berliners, I opened the bag and gave one to Luna. she ate it slowly, she stopped half way through.

“These are...amazing...what….what are they?” she asked 

I smiled.

“Berry Berliners.” i said, pained that she could not remember her favourite snack.

She placed the half eaten Berliner on the floor and sat up. She seemed to be happy. She stroked my cheek, almost fascinated by it.

“Thank you” 

She said looking at me with a smile. She kissed my cheek and then leaned herself against me, I put both my arms around her and we sat there. She was getting colder. I tried to get blankets but each time she stopped me.

We spent some time just sitting there.

Cold…

Colder…

Ice...

She fell asleep and I felt her heart stop.

I gently moved her onto the ground, placing a blanket over her.

My eyes welled up, there was nothing i could’ve done, Luna wanted this.

I went into a ball and started crying.

It was hours before I stopped.

I picked up her body and walked back with it to her village.

For one last time, I walked up to her house and entered, and placed Luna's body on the bed.

I walked around her house looking at everything.

Her plants were dead and gone, her paintings of the moon were incomplete, never to be finished and the room was as cold as winters day.

I came across a letter on her desk, it was marked;

‘To the naked sylvari’

I picked it up and opened it.

To Xela I write this not knowing between fact or fiction. My memory at this point is way beyond repair.

I know that I'm dying and that’s ok. It's been a good run between me and you, hasn't it? You were always the big hero rushing off to save villages and I was the girl who stayed behind to look at the moon. I know I’m going to go tonight but don’t be sad because I’m just going on a new adventure. I know that you’ll go on a new adventure soon as well and I’ll bet that you'll make new friends. I’m not gone, I’ve just gone to the moon. And You better meet me there. No hand holding this time ok? See you out there plant man… Yours forever, Luna Adair.

[tfwhynoy]

Finfolk au thing for myself. Finfolk is kinda like merformers but more so following Orkney folklore. I needed some comfort and thought “what if human went willingly”. Still kinda out there for the au but whatever. Cygate x reader but Cyclonus isn’t there it’s just Tailgate gushing about you and Cy.

You had never been close to your parents. Constant fights, them pushing their own trauma on you, and constantly trying to change who you were didn’t exactly encourage close bonding. Sure, a small part of you still loved them because they were your parents but it was easily drowned out whenever you spoke to them. The constant comments about how heavy you’ve grown and how if you’d didn’t find someone soon you’d die alone always cut deep. They were obviously just joking around but you still knew that they fully believe what they said despite the light-hearted tone.

One of your few reprieves as a kid had been the few close friends you held onto. They felt like you true family, always there to listen and support each other when adults had failed despite their best attempts at times.

As you grew though you all grew apart. You all stayed in contact the best you could but with one being busy with college, another with work, and another with taking care of their sick grandparents most of you were too busy to hang out like you used to.

The one friend you had been able to interact regularly you had found out died in a car crash two weeks ago. You hadn’t cried the first or second day of learning this, denial and shock prevented any tears from falling. The third, fourth, and fifth you had cried so hard you could produce more tears if you tried. No, your heart had a dull ache that settled at the bottom of everything you did.

Each time you came back to the same beach when you were hurting, even as a kid you came back. It was busy during summer but with the cold winter months set in almost no one could be seen most days. Technically you weren’t even supposed to come here alone, old tales of finfolk falling in love with humans from afar and unable to resist stealing them away saturated your town. Nearly everyone kept something silver with them that they could toss to distract them and escape.

“The one thing they love more than stealing people a way to be their brides is silver.” Your mother's words echoed through your head has you clutched at the silver chain you wear around your neck. Mom had given it to you when you started going through puberty, always teasing if you showed too much skin at the beach with friends some finfolk would kidnap you in the night. You had always held the necklace as a symbol of your mom loving and caring for you despite everything that happened but as you thought more about the memory again it turned rather sour like many memories before it. You didn’t want her gift around your neck. It didn’t belong anymore.

 You never believed these old stories anyway; often showing it by sitting on the old wooden docks and closest to the ocean tides as you could without getting wet. You may not have some magical draw to the ocean like some fairytale story but the inner rebellious teen in you kept you coming back here. It was silly but the worst you would get was accidentally stepping on a squishy jellyfish head when they began to wash ashore.

You took stood as you took it off your neck. It had no clasp and instead was just one long chain you slipped over your head. No need for something fancy when the intent was to just throw it away after all. You pulled back your arm as far as you could before tossing it as hard as possible. It didn’t travel too far but none the less sunk beneath the waves.

“If merpeople even exist they’re free to take the damn thing. I certainly don’t want it anymore.” You were merely thinking out loud as you sat down. You looked glumly at the grey sea and saw a small spot of white approach under the water.

Your furrowed your brow trying to think of any type of white fish around but came at a blank. Most fish came off more silvery but this distant blog of color glided through the water was bright white like a sheet of paper.

It dipped down quickly near where you had tossed your silver necklace, disappearing too deep to be seen for a moment before rising again. It breaches the surface of the water to reveal that this was, in fact, a mer. I glided through the water towards you making, what you assumed to be, happy chirping noise the whole way.

It stopped just before the dock for a moment and the two of you stared at each. Its torso was rather chubby with an oddly textured blue underbelly. Its face was rather childlike but you had the feeling this creature was much much older than it looked. You certainly noticed it fidgeting and messing with your silver necklace as a wide sharp-toothed grin spread across their chubby face.

“Hi! I’m Tailgate.” The chubby mer attempted to crawl up on the wooden dock but gripped too hard on the old rotting wood. It didn’t even creak as he accidentally crushed the wood as he attempted to pull himself up and only succeeded in ripping off a good chunk of the first plank. “Oops. I’m sorry I forget my own strength sometimes. And I’m just so excited to finally talk to you! We’ve seen you spend so much time hear but Cyclonus always said to leave you alone since you always seemed sad. I can’t wait till he hears you gave me this though! It’s so pretty.” He rubbed the chain against his cheek affectionately as he said the last bit. Tailgate was certainly adorable but your mom’s warning began to worry you. You had just “given” Tailgate the only piece of silver you had on you after all.

“You not going to drag me under are you?” You said it before you could stop yourself and Tailgate’s change in demeanor was immediate.

“No! Why would I do that? I don’t wanna risk drowning you sweetspark!” Something deep down told you Tailgate wasn’t dangerous, at least not on purpose. His pouting when you showed distrust certainly wasn’t helping you be skeptical of the adorable little creature.

“I… There are just so many stories of your kind kidnapping people and them never being able to see their families and friends no matter how hard they fight.” 

Tailgate let out a loud gasp before he spoke. “I wouldn’t do that! Neither would Cyclonus. We may be rather old fashioned to other finfolk but we actually court people we have an interest in. I guess it comes from living before humans were seen so often near the shore and having them as conjux became popular but I wouldn’t do that.” He rested his had on the dock and stared at round deep blue eyes.

“Wait, who is Cyclonus?” If this little mer already had a spouse why did he seem so interested in you?

“He’s my conjux! He’s intimidating when you first meet him but I promise you he’s really sweet when you get to know him. I’m sure you’d love him as much as we love you.” You felt something in the pit of your stomach. From what the stories told you finfolk on their own can be possessive and needy to their human partners. Having to deal with two would make this so much worse for you…

Or they may be spending some of their energy on each other rather than all of it on you.

“If I became Cyclonus and your...” you had to think of the word for a moment hoped you were using it properly, “conjux... what would that look like. Would I be able to go home? Would I have to live in the sea?”

He seemed to perk up a bit when you showed interest in joining his relationship. “Oh you’d likely live with us but you’d be able to go above when you wanted to. We wouldn’t want our sweet little human to feel trapped in their own home.” His tail began to swish back and forth as he rambled and daydreamed out loud. “We’d hunt and provide everything you need. Cyclonus would lavish you in gifts every day and sing you sweet songs every night. I’d always be cuddling by your side, running my hands through your hair while you petted my fins…” you could hear something akin to a purr as he continued rambling about how your life would be with them.

You couldn’t tell if it was just your still aching over losing your friend but it actually sounded really nice. No more needing to worry about paying rent. Just showing affection and getting affection in turn.

You still hadn’t met Cyclonus though.

That fact made you think for a moment. Sure Tailgate seemed sweet but what off Cyclonus? You’d never seen anything of him before.

“Tailgate?” He broke from his loving rambles to listen to what you had to say. “Could I meet Cyclonus before committing to such a life? He sounds lovely from how you’ve described him but I’d like to know him in person first.” Tailgate gasped excitedly and rapidly tapped at the wood of the dock.

“Of course! Of course! When would you like to meet him? I could probably even get him now if you’re patient enough.” 

“How about tomorrow at noon? I need time to prepare a gift for him as well.” You hadn’t thought much about the words before you spoke them.

“Oh, he’d love that! Oooh, we should go now so you have more time. A day isn’t that long after all.” Tailgate was positively beaming up at you.

“Agreed. I’ll see you and Cyclonus tomorrow. See you again soon Tailgate.” You gave him a small wave before you left the beach.

Your heart still ached at the thought of your lost friend but with the idea of having two finfolk there to constantly love and care for you, your heart fluttered slightly.

After so long of hurting you deserve something like that you reasoned. Now just to find something appropriate to give Cyclonus tomorrow.

[tacitoru]

Dance to This (m)

pairing: fuqboi!jhs x reader

genre: smut, dance majors!au

warnings: light bondage (?), thigh riding, self-gratification lmao

wc: 3k

notes: an old draft i found collecting dust in my wips from a year ago. i think it meant to have more plot and detail but I’m not entirely sure lol editing this was more as a mental break from my current stuff than anything else and i can't remember what my original idea for this was but enjoy lmao

synopsis: in lieu of your injured partner, you’re forced to work with one of the biggest mistakes you’ve made in your college career.

Some of the most important things came in pairs; shoes, lungs, chopsticks, dance partners.  Yet much to your inconvenience, you had managed to become the mismatched sock in an otherwise perfectly organized dresser drawer of neatly rolled - and paired - socks. Four weeks before one of the largest showcases in your college career, your dance partner Jimin, a sophomore prodigy, had badly twisted his ankle slipping on black ice that had frozen along the steps outside his dormitory in the aftermath of a winter storm. While the boy would still be able to dance in a few months' time, your instructor was quick to find someone to fill in the blank. Rather than your more preferable idea of turning your duet into a solo, you were haphazardly thrown to the whims of one irksome Jung Hoseok.

It wasn't that he was terrible. It was far from that - he was too good, and he knew it.

Flawless transitions, a body that moved with all the expression, ease, grace and passion you could only hope you portrayed. His performance pushed the limits of perfection and inspired awe to those who spectated, upper and underclassmen alike. And it just so happened he would be performing in the same show with you at the end of the semester, in an effort to attract the attention of big-name dance companies. To secure a future in the industry.

Yet the unbalanced dynamic caused by a long and awkward history between the two of you seemed to threaten all of that.

"Does it hurt?"

The question sounds silly the moment it leaves your mouth, and the odd look on Jimin's face most likely mirrors yours. Obviously, it hurt. But Jimin, the angel that he was, only smiles brightly and wiggles his toes in the cast. "Only a little."

Jimin, practically a contemporary dance prodigy, still had a year to go, hence, he avoided many repercussions of not being able to participate in the show. You, on the other hand, were grinding down to the last semester at your performing arts school. While it wouldn't be impossible to get a job teaching at a studio or even at another school, it wasn't what you were looking for - wasn't what you had dreamed of.

And now, with Jimin's eyes drowning you in that well-known look of pity, that dream felt very, extremely out of reach.

You shot up out of your seat, feeling your skin crawl and your ears burn under that familiar feeling of irritation. A hot feeling filled your head with all the pent-up frustration from the situation that had long gone out of your hands. You need to get out.  For a fleeting moment, you're tempted to step on Jimin's other ankle out of pure (unwarranted) pettiness. Damn you for leaving me in a position like this.

"I just wanted to stop by and make sure you were doing alright…" You hope your smile looks more amiable than it feels.

The boy nods, extending his arms as if going for a hug, and then quickly retracting into a half wave as though he's thought better about it. Over the grueling hours and months you had spent practicing hard together, you and Jimin worked together like a well-oiled machine across the floor. You were good partners, even nearly friends, but close was something you were not. At the end of each day, you both went your separate ways. Still, it felt wrong for this to have happened and to not stop by the hospital, no matter little of value the relationship was to you.

As you reach the door Jimin calls out to you, "Are you heading to the studio?" He eyes your attire and the gym bag you shoulder as if that if not an obvious enough answer.

"Yeah."

"Is everything going okay with Hoseok?"

The fingers that rest of the doorknob curl around it in an iron grip. You glare hard at the scuffed tile floors, biting your tongue at the slight idolization you hear in Jimin's tone just at speaking the man's name. He had always been a bit of a fan.

"It's great," you lament, pushing through the doorway. "Fucking fantastic."

There is only one studio ever open past ten o'clock at night, and you are one of a handful that ever wanders in there so late at night after an already taxing day spent on these very floors. So when you arrive to find a sliver of light from the doorway and heavy bass of an R&B song trembling the walls of the corridor, the sense of frustration from earlier that evening only seems to balloon. Kicking the door open and fully intending on forcing the person out of the studio, you're stopped short by the sight before you.

Two closely intertwined half-dressed bodies, moving erratically and jammed up against a foggy wall length mirror jump apart at the sound of the door slamming into the wall behind it. You mentally wince, knowing that someone's instructor will spaz when they discover a door handle sized dent in the drywall.

Jung Hoseok stands in a sweat-sticky tee, hair tousled, slowly tucking himself back into the draws and basketball shorts that had fallen to his shins, looking a hell of a lot less perturbed than the girl he was just dick-deep inside. This - this was exactly why you refused to be partnered with him.

The girl (one you vaguely recognize from an Intro to Tap class you took on a whim) looks frazzled, struggling to simultaneously reach for her leggings and pull up her bra. She opens her mouth to exclaim in anger, but you beat her to the punch.

"What the fuck is this."

You stretch in silence. It's always like this now, as opposed to the pop music blasting over the stereo Jimin would play during warmups, the mild hellos and good mornings, the partner stretches or the comfortable small talk made between switching positions. Now, with Hoseok, the closest thing to a greeting is a nod or a grunt. Warming up is done in radio silence, save for the days like today when you remember to bring your earbuds and turn the volume too low for your new partner to hear, but loud enough to block out your thoughts and the awkward tension that's more deafening than the silence.

Today is more uncomfortable than others, for a multitude of reasons. You can hardly turn your head in Hoseok's direction, the image of him pinning your old classmate to the mirror by the arms and the flash of his bare ass forever printed to the backs of your eyelids. You say nothing to him though, having shared more than enough words when all he had replied to your outrage was with a shrugged off, "Practice."

You had cursed him and his accomplice out, reprimanding them for misuse of school facilities. A reprimanding that had, apparently, gone right over their heads, because while the girl had at first a little decency to appear sheepish, she had shoulder her way past you to the door hissing, "killjoy."

Despite the fact that the previous night's events had only amplified your cold attitude toward him, you could feel Hoseok's gaze burn hole between your shoulder blades. You had a three-hour practice together before a break for lunch, and although it had only just started, you were counting down the minutes.

Little was said for the first half, aside from "Let's try that again," and "One more time from the top,". Despite being thrown into it at a moment's notice, Hoseok is a fast learner and picks up the routine quickly. However, when it gets to the point where the instructor allows you to practice without him for the last hour and a half, Hoseok feels unnecessarily entitled to fill the void. Most days you don't mind a little constructive criticism. Yet today, when his hands unexpectedly go for your hips in the middle of a turn, you practically leap three feet in the air before stumbling out of his reach.

You whip around to face him, hands planted on your hips. "Can I help you?!"

Hoseok has known you've been on edge all day, yet the look on his face is one of genuine surprise at your outburst. He blinks. "You're moving your hips all wrong."

"Wha-?"

"Your hips," He falters when you move further away from him when he reaches for you again, sighing exasperatedly. "You look super stiff like you're trying to twist your way out of a tight pair of jeans. There's no fluidity."

Chin tilted in his direction, you keep your defensive stance, still mentally gathering your bearings. The image of bare thighs flash across your thoughts, and it takes everything in you not to screw your face up at the memory. "Excuse me? Instructor Lee said that I was doing this perfectly fine-,"

Hoseok snorts, "Instructor Lee doesn't want to hurt your fragile little feelings."

"My feelings?!" Is he not the damn professor?

"Y/N, I know what happened yesterday was a little…unprecedented. But if you want to be taken seriously at this showcase, you have to focus and be able to handle constructive criticism."

"Taken seriously?!" At this point you're just parroting what he says, his condescending tone rendering you shocked into disbelief. You've quickly gone from defensive to full offense, advancing on Hoseok. "You, of all people, are the very last person to talk to me about being serious! Especially after that stint the other night. Can't you take your private business somewhere a little more, I dunno…private? How do you expect me to just unsee whatever the hell that was? I can't sleep, Hoseok. I have nightmares. Don't you know how much this sucks? How much more stress you've caused me?!" At this point you've got a single pointer finger digging into his pectoral with so much force he bats your hand away with a hiss.

"Look, I think you're exaggerating a little too much-,"

"And I don't think you're taking this seriously enough. This isn't a game, Jung. Don't you know how much I want this?!"

"You don't think I want this either?!" Hoseok barks back, appearing more than a little miffed.

"You certainly don't act like it."

He huffs again, shaking his head dismissively. "Look, I'm not ecstatic that we got paired together so last minute either, but we could work so well together if you would just stop being so tightly wound-,"

"-You're the reason I'm so wound up-!"

"Then let me undo it!"

The words hang in the distance between you, which Hoseok tries to close in a quick succession of steps that bring him far too close for comfort.

"Excuse me?" You lean away,  tilting your chin to glaring up at him incredulously over the bridge of your nose. Is he offering what you think he's offering?

"Let me help you relax," he reiterates. "If it means you'll be more compliant."

"You say that as if this whole mess is my fault.  And as if I'd ever get comfortable enough to let you put your hands on me again," you scoff.

"Y/N… You know I can do it. You know I can get you there. It's a matter of morals, really. Stop being so stiff." Your name rolls from the depth of throat in a low growl. His hands hover by your sides as though he's fighting the urge to initiate physical contact, fidgeting fingers curling into fists. Suddenly, you're reminded of every other hapless run in you've had with Jung Hoseok for the past four years, how they all started like this and ended the same. A long progression of tension, sly looks, flirting, wandering hands and an offer that you had never taken upon until your junior year because you never thought he really meant it. You had thought were better than that and had more self-respect than all of the other girls before you who had succumbed to such encouragement on his part. But that night, when you had caved in because he was so damn earnest and you had managed to convince yourself he really did care, was the night that had solidified the true nature of your relationship and revealed the real character behind one determined, dazzling Jung Hoseok. When he had left you alone, in a stranger's bed in the heated aftermath of a house party held by the friend of a friend, only to reappear into your life the next day with another girl on his arm. You had felt played. Hence began the year-long tirade against anything and everything Hoseok related - until now.

"Having a sense of self-respect and morality makes me stiff? What, so you wanna bang me against the mirror like you did to your other little friend?" you sneer. 'I didn't think you'd take me for someone so easily. "

His eyes flash, more than likely reliving that night too, the last time you had ever really talked to him outside of the studio. You grip the hoodie that's tied lowly around his hips and yank him an inch forward so that you can nose up to his ear.

"Fine. I'll let you help me, but we'll do it my way this time."

And then you're shoving him backward, towards the balancing bar, quickly untying the knot of his sweater sleeves as you go. Hoseok trips over his own feet, all of his usual elegance and grace lost as he struggles to comprehend your intentions. He grimaces when his back hits the wall. "What are you doing?"

Blatantly ignoring him, you place your free hand on his shoulder pressing down, the other still holding the sleeves of his hoodie together. "Kneel." His brow furrows at the command, but he complies none the less, slowly sinking to the floor.

A feeling of satisfaction thrums through your veins at the sight of him like this, knocked off his pedestal and quite literally a few feet beneath you. In a single motion, you ruck the hoodie up from his waist, pulling his arms up from under his biceps in the process. Stepping closer so that you stand over his knees, Hoseok awkwardly attempts to reach for your waist, yet you slip the hoodie around his wrists and tie them to the bar in a haphazard yet decently secured knot.

"I said you're not going to lay a hand on me." You hiss, wedging a foot between his knees, you direct him to slide his feet from under himself and prop his legs up. Much to your surprise, your toes brush up on his crotch, finding him already half hard.

You flash him a mocking smile. "Already?"

Hoseok only looks down at the floor in response, cheeks flushing red with shame.

"It's alright. You've always been one to take what you want." He watches you with wide eyes as you undo the strings of your sweatpants, gaze quickly flitting to the mirror, and then the door.  "Now it's my turn."

"What about the door?"

A bolt of panic runs down your spine. It's daytime, and despite it being so close to lunch hours, it is more than likely that anyone could walk right in and catch you in the act. However, you remember the light in the hall, the unlocked door, the unworried look, and nonchalant air that which Hoseok had carried himself when you had found him and that girl, and you realized that he didn't really care. He couldn't have. It makes you all the more determined, and a little bold.

You step out of your sweatpants and gradually lower yourself into his lap, pinching his chin to divert his attention back to you in a show of bravado. "Let them see, then."

Straddling his left leg, Hoseok's eyes become impossibly wide as you begin a steady gyration over his thigh. "You've always had such nice thighs Hobi. How about you put them to some good use."

Slowly but surely you move your hips along the ridge of muscle in his leg, one hand on the balancing bar and the other on his shoulder for support. The pressure on your core brings a thrill of pleasure down your spine, heat filling low in your abdomen. A breathless sigh escapes you, and Hoseok groans at the sight before him. You nearly laugh at the sight of his petulance.

"Didn't think it would turn out like this, would it?" Knees braced on either side of his legs, you grind down harder. When your kneecap brushes the bulge between his legs, Hoseok gasps, responding with an erratic buck of his hips. He tosses his head back, hiding his face in the crook of his right arm. The answer to that question would be yes, but he senses that you're not looking for an answer; you already have one. "Leaving the door open, not even the slightest bit surprised when I came through the door. You knew what you were doing last night." You seethe in his ear. "Think of how unfair you're being; fucking her while you're thinking of me."

Hoseok growls. "Who said I was thinking of you."

"Nobody had to." You roll your hips into his thigh faster, seeking that self-satisfaction, and Hoseok hates it. He wants you pinned to the floor, beneath him, his mouth on the alluring juncture between your neck and shoulder, and his hands on any bare skin he can possess. Instead, here you are, rendering him subdued while you use his body to get you off like some kind of toy.

"I-I didn't even know that girl was coming last night. I-I was waiting for you," Hoseok confesses, albeit reluctant. "Wanted to get your attention again."

"Well, now you've definitely got it." One particular motion results in the material of your panties to chafe directly at your clit, causing you to stutter. "Oh, f-fuck!"

You're ridiculously wet, evident in the dark streaks left in the fabric of his red shorts. Hoseok gathers the strength to look at you again, moaning at the sight of you working yourself on him. He flexes his leg and you falter again, whimpering. You're close, he can tell. For a moment Hoseok fidgets against his makeshift restraints.

"I could make you feel so much better if you would just let my hands go."

"Not happening," You admonish gripping his jaw with the hand not on the bar when Hoseok tries to toss his head back again in frustration. "Look at me - no, look at me."

Your partner's replacement is forced to watch as you whine and wriggle yourself to completion on his leg. The pressure of your knee on his crotch leaves little to no relief, and yet he bucks up in a last ditch effort anyways. When you finally hoist yourself up, shiny streaks stick to some places where the edge of his shorts meets his bare skin. Hoseok nearly gawks at the site. Meanwhile, you pull yourself together, hiking on your sweatpants and turning to gather your things.

"Hey!" He realizes your intentions and begins to panic.  You throw him a bored look over your shoulder, halfway out the door. In his stupor, he recognizes it to be one far too identical to his demeanor the other night. Except for this time, it's no bluff. "Untie me?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"Please?"

Instead of granting his wish, you slowly stride over to him, pulling out your phone to snap a quick photo of him. The fantastic, Jung Hoseok, God's gift to the world of performance arts, looking disheveled, distraught and tied up to a balancing bar. It was too good to pass up.

"Okay. I've had my fun." With one good yank, you release the man from his confines and stalk out of the practice room. "But don't think it'll be happening again."