#If this flops I’m going to cry /silly

[mossy-paws]

PHIGHTING! Album cover challenge

God-ish

I feel as if I have been neglecting my tumblr followers lately, so here’s this full course dinner that took away 8 hours of my life

OG album cover: (Specifically this was more inspired by Ado’s cover of the song!)

[charliemwrites]

Bark bark bark awoooo

No content warnings

You’re gonna fucking combust.

Somehow, someway, this is Johnny’s fault. You’re not sure how yet, so he it isn’t fair for him to be in trouble, but you know it.

“This is your fault,” you tell him, pouting in bed — bare ass naked, but that means nothing to him, he’s a dog. He cocks his head, and you wave your (broken) vibrator at him. “I don’t know how, but it is. Is this because I wanna chop your balls off?”

His mouth closes, eyes big - like he actually understands you. In your horny delirium, you almost believe he really does.

You flop onto your back with a sigh, eyes a little wet with frustration.

It’s been two months since you last successfully got off. Your vibrator (and its replacement… and its replacement’s replacement) keep breaking, or running out of battery. The plug is defective or falls out of the socket.

Once you successfully got right to the edge - just for it to die. You almost did cry that time.

Sure, there’s your hand. But every time you try ol’ reliable a certain four-legged roommate interrupts one way or another. And when you tried to kick him out of the room, and then ignored the howling, scratching, and general drama - there was loud and rapid knocking at your door.

Like fucking clockwork. If you get anywhere at all, you never get to finish.

It wouldn’t be so bad, either. Your libido isn’t anything crazy, you don’t think. At least it wasn’t before. But now there’s Soap.

Soap who you should not be so attracted to. Who has no sense of propriety or boundaries, who murmurs the dirtiest things to you in the most public and otherwise mundane places. And he just keeps. Showing. Up.

Like he’s got a tracker on you or something. (You’ve checked, he doesn’t.)

He’s like every guilty fantasy you had as a good, studious girl back in high school. The kind of guy to grab your thigh under your parents’ dinner table and take your virginity in the back of his car. Maybe corner you by the lockers between classes to kiss you silly and drive up your absence record.

You never actually went for those boys — and perhaps gratefully, they never went for you. In romance novels, it would be a quaint little coming of age story. The stuff to swoon over. But reality was a lot scarier for you, especially with your older sister always keeping an ear out to report back to your parents and… well, yeah.

You’ve always been a firm introvert, anyway. That’s why you live out in the woods with only a dog for regular company.

But Soap. Soap is some unholy amalgamation of those innocent, shy girl fantasies turned R-rated. Like the grown-up version of those cute YA novels.

And you have no defense for it — except distrust, that is.

Soft-hearted as you are, you know you don’t do casual well. And you know that guys like Soap just like to spin you up and up until you finally give in, think the dreaded words “maybe it’ll work out” despite that rational voice in your head saying, “don’t bet on it.”

Doesn’t stop you from secretly wanting him though.

Fear is the only thing keeping you in check now. Some of it for you own feelings; of getting invested in a guy that has done nothing but treat you like a prime cut of meat. The rest of it is a genuine concern that he might be a bit dangerous. He’s so much bigger than you, visibly stronger. Has gone out of his way to make you uncomfortable (doesn’t matter that a very dark and slutty part of you liked it) and ignored your attempts at brushing him off.

Fear, unfortunately, is beginning to add to the temptation.

“I’m not going to do it,” you tell yourself, or maybe Johnny. Soap’s contact is on the screen. You don’t remember putting it into your phone, but you must have at some point. “Nope. No way.”

You slide a sideways look at Johnny, tail wagging at a steady clip.

“He’s probably a former frat boy or something, right?” you muse.

Snort.

“No, you don’t think so?” you question, sitting up. He happily crawls into your lap when you pat your thighs, chin resting on your tummy. “Nah, you’re right. Could almost imagine him beating the hell out of one for pissing him off.”

A little grumbly noise. You smile and start petting absently over his head and ears, phone forgotten now.

“This is dumb anyway,” you sigh, head tilted back to the ceiling. “You don’t like men. I couldn’t bring him back here.”

Johnny’s ears flick. You giggle and start flopping them around, making airplane noises. Eventually he huffs and starts licking at your face until you stop, complaining that you’ll need to wash off now.

—

“Fuck it.”

Johnny picks his head up, staring at you as you run a hand down your face.

“Fuck it all. I’m going to a bar. I’m getting… I dunno. Laid or something.” Thank god it’s only Johnny here. You don’t think you could live with the embarrassment of someone else hearing the way you talk.

You set your hands on your hips, nod to yourself.

“And if it happens to be Soap, then… sign from the universe, right?” You grimace a bit, striding for your bedroom. “Please don’t let him be a murderer or something…”

For once, Johnny is perfectly behaved as you get ready. He doesn’t try to lick at you when you come out of shower (freshly shaved and lotioned and everything). Sits patiently on the bed as you pick through your closet, even noses at a pretty pink dress you rarely wear but were considering for this.

He doesn’t try to bump your arms or hands while you do your makeup, just watches attentively. You choose a pretty, matching bra-panty set, apply a light spritz of perfume. Hesitate over jewelry.

“Is it normal to wear jewelry when you plan on fucking?” you wander allowed.

A little “boof” from the bed. You’ll take that as a yes.

You decide on a set of faux pearls with a gold heart pendant in the center. Not quite a choker, but high enough on your throat to suggest one. A delicate bracelet, a pair of stud earrings, and you’re just about set.

“Christ, I hate doing this alone,” you mutter, fumbling with the zip on the back of the dress.

Lastly, the shoes.

“Fuck it,” you say again. Your mantra for the evening, apparently. Wobble into a pair of heels, a bow on the outside of each ankle where you buckle them.

You pause when you’re done, giving yourself a once over in the full length mirror. Pleased with what you see. Coquettish and pretty, not necessarily bombshell sexy maybe, at least not on first glance. But the necklace, the heels, the cutouts at the waist of your dress… it’s all exactly what you wanted.

“Alright,” you breathe, tummy swooping with excitement. “I can do this… right?”

Johnny’s gotten down off the bed, is keeping a respectful distance. You appreciate it, don’t want to have to lint roll hair off yourself.

“Oh, god. What if he’s bad?” You ask, giving him a horrified look. “What if he’s been, like, compensating?”

To your shock, he stomps his paw and starts damn near howling. Carrying on and on like he’s bitching you out. You blink in shock, almost laugh — then check the time.

“Oh! Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you starve!”

You toddle off to the kitchen and prep his dinner, scrunching your nose at the raw chicken and beef liver. He grumbles and fusses the whole way, making you laugh as you pretend to have a whole conversation about the economy with him.

“Okay, bonnie Johnny,” you coo, setting his bowl down. “Be good, okay? If I bring someone back here please don’t eat them, okay?”

More grumbles and whines and growls. You roll your eyes, blow him a kiss, and slip out the door.

You tell yourself you just need action with someone. Don’t admit to yourself that there’s really a specific someone you’re hoping to see.

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Masterlist

[gingernut1314]

Extra Special

A Songbird Story

Buggy x F!Reader

Summary: Buggy wants to make this Valentine's Day special. Extra special for his extra special songbird.

Warnings: fluff, like the tiniest bit of angst, smut (p in v, biting)

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: Sooo....I got this out a bit later than I wanted (like an hour late) so it's no longer valentines day...but let's all pretend I got this out in time 😂

This is a part of the Songbird series, though not part of the main storyline (if you want to add this extra little story into the main storyline, it could be read between part 8 and part 9). I hope you all enjoy!!! 🩷🩷🩷

↞ to Songbird Masterlist | Buggy the Clown Masterlist | One Piece Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

“SHIT!” The screaming voice of Buggy and the sound of shattering glass jolted you from your sleep like some alarm clock you hadn’t asked for. You started up, ripping the blankets off your body as you fought against your sleep-blurred eyes to find your captain in the dim light of his room. Panic at the thought of something having happened to him struck you hard and fast.

“NO!” Buggy shouted at you, a detached hand flying your way and shoving up back down in bed with a bounce.

“Hey! Buggy, what the hell happened--” 

“Nothin’! Stay asleep!” Your concern turned to irritation as he continued to hold you down. 

“I’m not going to stay asleep you jackass!” You huffed, grabbing for his hand to hold it in a way so you could sit up once more. 

The door to Buggy’s chambers lay open, the light illuminating the hall filtering into his room and allowing you to see the predicament Buggy had gotten himself into. 

He skillfully held a tray of food in his last remaining hand while his sea-glass eyes looked downward mournfully at the shattered mug and spilled tea on his floor. It was your mug, one you had picked up on the last island the Big Top had landed on. 

“I-I’m--I broke your mug.” He said slowly, almost as if he was nervous about how you would react. 

“Were you bringing me breakfast in bed?” You asked, completely glazing over the subject of your broken mug. Buggy’s mouth fell open as his eyes glanced towards the tray he still balanced. 

“Uh--yeah.” You kissed the bit of exposed wrist of the detached hand still in your grip before letting it fly back to his body, a smile pulling to your lips. 

“Then what are you waiting for? Come here.” You said patting the empty space next to you. Buggy looked to the spill, then back to you, and then back to the spill once more. “It’s just a mug, baby. I can get a new one.” Those eyes found you once more, his mouth opening and closing like some fish out of water. You sighed, patting the bed a bit more aggressively. 

“We’ll clean up later. My stomach is eating itself I’m so hungry.” Buggy rolled his eyes at you dramatically, closing the door before starting for you.

“Now that’s a bit dramatic, don’t ya think, songbird?” You scoffed at him and his silly little grin which was growing wider and wider the closer he got to you.

“Dramatic? I’m dramatic? I’m not the one who was about to cry over--” A gloved hand came up to cover your face, shoving you not so gently back onto your pillow. 

“Scoot over, yeah?” The bed dipped as you swatted Buggy’s hand away from your face, shooting him a daggered glare that he merely winked back at. 

“Asshole.” You huffed, sitting back up as Buggy passed over you to his side of the bed.

“Yes, but you like this asshole.” A detached hand came around to bop you on the nose as he flopped down next to you. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You huffed, watching as he extended the tray of breakfast foods out to you. 

“You’re favorites of course.” Your playful annoyance was quickly replaced with that giddy feeling in your chest you still weren’t used to feeling. A feeling that was warm and pressing dangerously against the seams of your heart at Buggy’s thoughtful kindness. You took the tray, placing it in your lap as you smiled gratefully up at your captain. 

“And--” He said, a detached hand flying into the bathroom only to come back out with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. They were in the colors of yellow and white and sat in a red and white striped popcorn container. You realized the flowers were supposed to mimic the food typically within such a container. 

You’re mouth hung wide open as Buggy handed you the flowers, his grin turning all too goofy. A smile that was even more stunning than any flower you could ever receive.

“Thank you, baby. What did I do to deserve all this today?” You asked, bringing the flowers to your nose to smell their sweet scent. 

Shit--they even smelled like popcorn. How’d he do that?

“Cause today’s Valentine's Day, duh.” You blinked up at him. Blinked once, twice--

“Valentine’s Day? I don’t understand.” Buggy’s eyes all but fell out of their sockets in shock. 

“What? You don’t know what Valentine's Day is?” You shook your head and Buggy continued to gap at you. “It’s only one of the biggest holidays they celebrate in the East Blue.” You shrugged at him, leaning over to place the flowers on the nightstand next to you.

“I grew up under a rock, remember? My dad didn’t care about shit like holidays.” You said, looking over the assortment of food on the tray in your lap. You went for the fruit first, popping one in your mouth as Buggy gave a huff of annoyed air.

“The more I learn ‘bout your daddy the more I dislike him.” You shrugged, moving so you could hook your feet over Buggy’s lap, bringing the warmth of his body flush against yours. His hand was quick to find purchase on your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze as you raised a bit of fruit to his lips. 

“Tell me about it?” You asked, Buggy taking the fruit from your fingers. The brush of his painted lips made your skin tingle and burn and wish to feel over them. 

“Well--ya know. It's just a day you spend with the people you care about.” He said between chews. “Do nice things for ‘em. Treat ‘em extra special.” 

You tried to play it off cooly by taking a bite from some of the other foods on the tray, but you were anything but cool. Your heart was beating against your rips in a near-painful manner. That giddy feeling rolling around in your chest so fast it made your heart ache with its wildness.

He cared about you. He was telling with his words that he cared about you. 

“Oh? And--I’m getting treated extra special?” You asked, raising a fork full of food for Buggy to take. He did and gave your thigh another squeeze.

“No, I’m gonna treat Cabaji to a good time. I’m gonna go snuggle up in bed with him while I feed him breakfast.” You rolled your eyes at Buggy’s tease, taking another bite of your food. 

“But you’re not feeding me breakfast. I’m feeding you.” You said, bringing another fork full of food for him to eat. He took it with an audible chomping sound. 

“Hand over the fork then, smartass.” You smirked, keeping the fork far away from him.

“I thought you were supposed to be nice to me today.” Buggy was quick to snatch the fork from your hand, his other hand moving from your thigh to pinch at your side in a way that had you yelping and squirming to get away. The tray of food Buggy had so kindly brought to you almost found its way onto the floor to join your mug had Buggy not sent a detached booted foot to nudge it back into place.

“I am being nice. See how nice I’m being.” He insisted, skewering a piece of fruit onto the fork and choo-choo training it towards you. You mocked irritation once more at his antics but ate the fruit with a chuckle.

“I’ll forgive you if you say sorry.” You said after swallowing. Buggy gave a chuckle of his own as he grabbed your cheeks in a squishing hold, pulling you closer and closer until his lips crashed into yours.

His grip loosened, giving your lips the freedom to move in tandem with his. To taste the spices within your breakfast and the sweetness of the fruit. 

Buggy pulled away all too soon and you chased after his lips, needing that little buzz of happiness kissing him gave rise in you. 

“I’m sorry.” He said against your lips, which claimed yours once more. 

“Humm…I don’t know if I forgive you.” Buggy gave a rumbling growl that shook through your chest, burning at your skin.

“Oh yeah? Do I need to beg for your forgiveness?” You smirked, running your fingers over his exposed arm, feeling over the smooth skin and the course blue hair that lay there. 

“Begging is a very good start.” He gave that little whimper you loved oh so much to hear. One that had you grabbing him closer, the tray of food forgotten fully as he grabbed you right back.

And just as Buggy had opened his mouth to start to beg, sweet sounds your body begged itself to hear, a knock sounded at his door. One that had anger spiking in Buggy so sharp and fast he was ripping himself off of you and hurling himself from bed, leaving you a drunk kissed mess. 

“WHAT DID I TELL YOU IDIOTS?” Buggy shouted as you fought to calm yourself back down. 

As he screeched and howled at whoever had interrupted his alone time, you went about picking up the bits of food that had fallen in your hast to get your captain closer. 

You ate the rest of your breakfast as you pulled yourself from bed, yanking on a pair of Buggy’s pj bottoms which lay scattered over the floor as you went about tidying up the red sheets, as well as picking up the mess that was your shattered mug.

As you did this, you caught bits and pieces of Buggy’s conversation with, who after a quick peek through the crack in the door Buggy had left, found Mohji standing there looking very, very stressed. 

“There is a tax to dock, captain.” 

“Then don’t dock. Go around the island.” 

“We-we did sir. There are docks all around the island and the beaches are very populated--guards posted on each.” You threw the mug away as Buggy fumed at these words. 

“And the next nearest island?” 

“A day’s journey, captain.” Buggy cursed. And cursed and cursed some more. 

“Fine! Pay the godsdamned tax.” Mohji left with a quick yes, captain and an apology before his footsteps rushed off. Buggy came back in looking like he was about to pop a blood vessel. It was a look that only deepened when he found you were finishing up cleaning the spilled tea. “What are you--”

“You never pay a tax. We should just go to the next island.” Buggy huffed, slamming the door shut behind him.

“We can’t just “go to the next island” ‘cause today is Valentine's Day. Not tomorrow. And this island has the best beaches for miles.” You blinked at him slowly--beaches. You loved beaches. Loved the sun on your skin and the sand between your toes. It was a fact Buggy knew of you. A love he had learned of during both of your time on the Going Merry.

“Are you--are you taking me to the beach?” You asked calmly, trying to not get your hopes up. Buggy huffed away, trying to settle his raging emotions as he snagged a small, light blue bag from under his vanity. 

“Take a look.” He said, pulling a smile to his face that seemed to help him calm down greatly. 

Fake it until you make it was the philosophy you believed Buggy went with to get through life. It was a pretty good philosophy--one you might even pick up living by. 

You took the bag from Buggy’s hand, pulling the red tissue paper out to find a few pieces of folded, polyester outfits within. 

The first you pulled out was a pair of blue, yellow, and red diamond-patterned swim trunks. Trunks that were definitely meant for Buggy who was now genuinely grinning again as he watched you open the gift. 

The next thing you pulled out was a matching bikini. It was tasteful, but still cut in a fashion you knew Buggy was eager to see you in. In other words, small but covered the important bits pretty well. 

The suits were bright and flashy and so Buggy. You loved it. 

“Wha’d ya-” You didn’t let him finish his question before you were attacking him in a hug and in smacking kisses to both his cheeks. 

“I love it! Thank you, baby.” Buggy grabbed hold of your hips, finding your lips for a kiss. 

“How ‘bout you get ready and I’ll make sure everything’s in order with this shitty tax, hum?” You nodded, kissing him again quickly before rushing off to the bathroom. 

The beach was crowded, just as you had heard Mohji tell Buggy, but you and your captain found a space a little ways away from everyone. And, as an added bonus, it was far enough away from the water that Buggy’s nerves were put at ease. 

You dug your toes into the sand as you watched Buggy set up camp, pulling beach chairs open and laying a blanket down before your chairs. He placed a picnic basket down on top of it, one he had surprised you with on the way here. Buggy even put up an umbrella, though that was mainly for him. 

And he did this all in just his flashy swim trunks. 

The sun was no help in the growing heat in your body. 

No help as you watched the muscles throughout his arms and legs work. No help as you watched his blue hair, which he had put up in a flowy ponytail, fall over his shoulders, leading the eyes to his chest. A chest covered in a dusting of blue hair that you had run your fingers through many, many times before and wished to do now. 

It had you almost wishing to take Buggy by the hand and drag him all the way back to the Big Top just so you could see those muscles work to pull those swim trunks off. So you could see the delicate skin that lay hidden beneath and run your tongue--

“Tah dah!” Buggy exclaimed, a pound smile on his face as he gestured towards the set up. 

“Good job, baby.” You praised, swallowing down the sudden dryness in your mouth. Buggy beamed like one of the rays of sunlight shining down on you two under your praise. 

“You gonna take that cover off? Let me see how good you look in that bikini?” You nodded, placing your beach bag into one of the chairs before yanking your cover-up--which was just one of Buggy’s old t-shirts--over your head. 

Buggy gave a low curse as you showed off your new swimsuit--you moving your body in a way that put it on full display for him.

“You like?” You asked as you watched Buggy’s tongue shoot out to wet his lips.

“Do a little twirl for me.” You did so without question, moving your hips in a sultry rotation that earned you a low groan from your captain. “Shit, songbird--maybe we should call it quits? Head back to the ship.” You smirked as you faced him once more.

“Humm we could…but no. I want to get some sun.” You said, the clown all but whining in displeasure. “You were the one who chose this bikini. You only have yourself to blame.” Buggy dramatically pouted. 

“Let me at least put lotion on ya. Don’t want you to burn.” You shrugged dismissively.

“I don’t burn.” Buggy’s hands flexed at your continued denial to let him touch you. 

“I do.” You scanned over his body slowly, making the clown all but squirm under your gaze. 

“Would you like me to put lotion on you?” He nodded frantically, sending a detached hand for the lotion in your bag. He all but shoved it in your hands before sitting down on the blanket before you. 

You knelt down behind him, putting a dollop of lotion on your hand. You moved his hair over his shoulder before beginning to rub the lotion in, your captain humming and leaning back to be closer to your touch. 

You took your time rubbing it into his skin, tracing shapes into his skin, and digging your fingers into the tenser bits of muscle you came across. The whole time Buggy was a huming, groaning mess and it was making your body utterly ache to have him hum and groan in other such pleasurable ways. 

Once every last bit of skin was covered, you moved around to sit before him, his eyes dazed and struggling to focus. Eyes that scanned over your body, which he began to reach for. 

“Uh-ah. No touching.” Buggy huffed, those green-blue eyes snapping to look into your own. 

“Why not?”

“Because I only get to touch.” This earned you another, rumbling groan, and those eyes lulling closed. You watched him shift, his trunks seeming to grow just a bit tighter around his crotch. You smirked at his flushed state. 

“Let’s go back to the ship.” He asked on a whisper, as if your answer might change. You put another dollop of lotion onto your hand and began to rub it into his shoulder, chest, and abdomen. 

“Later, baby. You went through all the trouble to get these swimsuits, make us lunch, and pay that tax.” You said, his sea-glass eyes opening to watch you near mournfully. With a chuckle, you leaned forward and placed a soft, lingering kiss on his painted lips. A kiss he savored and whined when it ended. “Thank you. You’ve made me feel extra special today.” 

A small smile pulled to Buggy’s lips, that warm emotion flashing through his eyes. A look you thrived under whenever he graced you with it. 

“Of course, songbird. Speakin’ of extra special, I have another gift for ya.” He said, sending both of his chopped hands towards the basket. 

“Another one? Buggy, baby, that’s too much--” Buggy shushed you with a quick kiss. He pulled away as his hands reattached to his body, the box he had grabbed thrust into your hands. 

“Nothin’s too much for my songbird. Now open it.” He said excitedly. You sighed, your own excitement dancing around in your chest. 

You tugged at the box’s flaps, freeing them from the colorful tape holding them closed. A small gasp left you as you pulled one of the gifts out. 

It was a notebook. A beautifully elegant notebook that, in looping letters, said Songbird’s Songbook #1. 

And there were more notebooks within the box. Books of different colors and designs but had the same title drawn on the cover. Each was labeled with a number as well. 

You felt your eyes prick and you fought to keep from making a fool of yourself in front of Buggy. 

“I-Buggy…” You said in a small voice, looking back towards the man you cared for so, so much. A man who had changed your life for the better--who had pulled you from such a dark, dark place.

Guilt panged in your chest. A guilt that rose your anxiety and had you tapping your fingers against the hardcover of the songbook.

“I didn’t get you anything. You should have told me you were doing all this. How--this is--baby, I want to get you something too. Something as thoughtful and beautiful as this. I--” Buggy cut you off with a soft, comforting cradle of your face between his ungloved hands.

“Baby, you’re gift enough for me.” You huffed, feeling those tears begin to pool in your eyes. “I don’t need anything but you. Don’t worry. Please don’t worry.” But you couldn’t not worry. Because you were worried every day that you wouldn’t be good enough. That he would find some reason to toss you away--to abandon you.

“Hey--if you really want to give me something, you could sing for me.” You blinked a few times to clear the tears stinging your eyes on a nod. “Ya? Okay--hey, stop that.” He chuckled, running his thumb under your eye to try and comfort you further. “A song and your company would be a perfect gift.” You nodded again, clearing your throat from its tightness. 

“What--what would you like me to sing?” You asked, leaning your cheek further into his palm. 

“How ‘bout that song you’ve been workin’ on?” 

“It’s not finished.” He nodded, his smile pulling wider.

“I know. But it’s still my favorite.” You smiled, that giddy, warm feeling filling your chest like a flash of lightning. With a quick kiss to his lips, you two laid out on the blanket, facing one another as you began to sing your song softly. 

Buggy watched you like you were the most interesting thing in the whole world. Watched you with that warm look in his eyes and an easy smile on his lips. His hand found its way to feel over your side, running his fingers up and down your skin. 

You sang your song of lonely and restless need. Of freedom and the sea and of a feeling for someone so strong it could drive them mad. 

When you finished your unfinished song, which you had added just that much more to since the last time you had sung it to him, Buggy pulled you in for another soft, lingering kiss that had your heart soar like some dove. 

You almost grabbed him back into you when he pulled away but thought better of it--there would be plenty of time to hold and caress each other after this little beach trip. 

Buggy went about presenting you with lunch then in a flashy manner. The lunch was simple but perfectly catered for a beach day. 

After lunch, you two sat in your beach chairs. You soaking up the sun and Buggy sitting in the shade of his umbrella, hand in hand. 

Once you had had your fill of sun and sand and the sound of crashing waves, you helped Buggy pack everything up before heading for the Big Top. 

The ship was as quiet as the grave, the rest of the crew out enjoying the beautiful day and exploring the island you had paid to stay on. 

“I don’t get mad,” Buggy started, pulling you towards the circus tent that stood proudly close to the bow of the ship. “But I might have one more gift for ya.” You smiled and squeezed his hand a little tighter.

“Then I owe you one more song.” Buggy squeezed your hand right back with a nod. 

“I would love that, songbird.” He led you to the entrance, placing all of your beach gear on the deck before turning you around and covering your eyes with his hands. “No peaking.” He whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You held onto his hands as he led you into the circus tent, your steps a little stiff from your momentary blindness. Buggy positioned you and turned you just a little bit this way and that before you felt his breath on your ear again.

“Okay…ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be.” Buggy chuckled before removing his hands from your eyes. 

You gasped at the sight before you. A wonderful scene, one with a candlelit dinner table, a meal still steaming and ready to eat. You gathered it must have just been laid out, meaning one of your crewmates was making a mad dash for the exit. 

Flowers covered the surrounding area, filling the space with their forally sweet smells. Music played softly in the background as well. Songs from your favorite artists and inspiration since childhood. 

But on top of the dinner and the candles and the music, sitting in the middle of the circus ring was a shining, sleek piano. Another one of those songbooks lay on the music stand, a single rose pressed between its pages.

“I’ll have it moved to one of the backrooms so you can have a little more privacy to practice and create your music. I know you’ve been needing a piano so--” You snapped around and attacked Buggy in a tearful kiss before he could finish. 

Your captain was quick to wrap you up in his arms, pulling you flush against his warm body. Your lips moved in perfect synchrony. In a sweet, tearful kiss that gradually grew more needy. More wanting and fiery. 

You pulled away, littering kisses over his cheeks and jaw and neck, your hands sliding their way downward. Fingers pulled at his bright swim trunks and you were just about to follow your hands downward when Buggy stopped your descent. You whined but it was silenced by his burning kiss. 

“Nah-uh. Want to make you feel good.” 

“But--” A voice stealing kiss found you again, Buggy’s body moving you backward until you ran into the piano he had just gifted you. 

His feeling hands found the strings to your bikini and loosened the top so that the triangle-shaped fabric fell away from your breasts, hanging loosely around your waist. Those stunning eyes of his darkened in lust at the sight of you, his tongue coming out to wet his lips in something akin to hunger. 

Your fingers were gripping the back of his neck and guiding him towards your pebbled nipples, Buggy readily following your lead. His teeth grazed over the sensitive heft of your left breast, making a low moan pour from your chest. A low thing that turned mewling when his lips encased your nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue over its peek. 

You held him closer, your body giving out onto the keys of the piano, making the instrument give a screeching ring that echoed throughout the circus tent. 

Buggy’s strong arms grabbed you around your thighs and shoved you up onto those keys, abusing the poor, elegant instrument once more with your weight. 

You would have been worried about breaking such a beautiful gift had a pleasure-filled fog not begun to roll through your mind, blocking out any sense or reason. 

He removed his mouth with a pop from your breast only to latch it around your untouched and lonely left breast. Your fingers scraped over the back of his neck, pulling low moans of his own from his throat, the vibrations of it buzzing at your body and adding to the growing wetness between your legs. 

Buggy’s hands grabbed for the bottom of your bikini, yanking them off with help from his chop-chop abilities to fully do so without pulling away from you.

He switched breasts again, biting lightly at your flesh and making you squirm in his hold at the flashes of pleasure that pulsed through you.

You spread your legs further, giving Buggy full access to your weeping pussy. It wanted his touch--needed it and you were beginning to grow desperate. 

A chopped hand crawled its way down your stomach, finding its home on top of the mound of your pelvis. 

“I should make you beg for it, ya know.” He murmured around your breast, flicking his tongue over your nipple and pulling a needy little whine from you. “For teasing me at the beach.”

“Y-your fault. You--” You sucked in a shuttering breath as he dipped a finger into your dripping folds. A finger that rounded your cilt but never once dared to touch it, sending you just enough pleasure but never enough to scratch the deep itch that had been building within your body all day. “You bought the damn bathing suit.” 

Buggy chuckled, pulling away from your nipple to lick a wet trail up the valley of your breasts, sinking his teeth into your neck. A pinch of pain that only melded and mixed with that dulled buzz he had lifting in you. 

“I wanted to match. So fuckin’ sexy.” And his finger finally moved to land on your clit,  rubbing circles into it and sending your body radiating in ecstasy. 

“Oh--oh gods--yes--thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You rambled into his hair, holding his face that much closer to your neck, which he continued to bite and suck a deep bruise into. “I-I love this fucking suit--oh my gods!” 

Your hips began to move on their own accord, rocking against his finger and his cock, which had tented his trunks in his own arousal. 

More, more, more. 

You need more of him. All of him. 

With these foggy thoughts in mind, you reached your hand down to tug his suit as low as you could. It was an action that only exposed more of that happy blue trail which led to your real goal, still hidden breath those bright trunks.

“C-Captain--Captian, please, please, please! I-I need you in me please!” You begged, continuing to pull at the band of his trunks to spur him on.

“F-Fuck--yeah, baby. Anythin’ ya need.” He grit out pulling away just enough to shove his swimsuit down, letting his cock spring free from its restraint. He hissed at the sudden exposure to the chiller air, his tip already leaking milky pearls of precome. 

You grabbed for him, running your thumb over his slit and spreading it around the mushroomed head of him. Your mouth fell open on a needy pant as he thrust mindlessly into her hand, bringing his cock that much closer to your sobbing pussy. 

Digging the heels of your feet into that perk little ass of his, you dragged him closer and closer until he was pressed oh so nicely against your entrance. 

It took only took one thrust and your guiding hand to have him sinking inch by glorious inch into your aching pussy. Your walls flexed and relaxed around him, sucking him deeper and deeper into you. 

“Oh fuck.” Buggy cursed in your ear as he bottomed out, his last unchopped hand coming up to grab a fistful of your breast. You nibbled at that pierced ear, humming your growing satisfaction for him. 

“M-move, baby. S-so good for me.” You breathed, raking your fingernails up and down his back, sending shivers through your captain’s body. 

“Yes--fuck, yes, songbird.” He said on a whimper, his hips pulling him all the way out all the way to his reddened tip, only to sharply thrust back into you. You gave a deep moan of his name, hanging onto him for deep life.

Each thrust sent low humming through your body. Humming that grew louder and louder and louder until it was all you could hear. 

Each bite and suck at your neck spread sparks along your skin like the start of some wildfire. 

Each circle and flick of your cilt ignited and deepened that built within the depths of your abdomen. 

Buggy chuckled against your skin, his thrusts never once faltering in their steady, pleasure-pulling pace. 

“Wh-what?” You panted, grabbing hold of his chin to look into those sea-glass eyes. Eyes a swirl of blown-out lust and mirth. 

“J-just--heh--this wasn’t what I had in mind when I said--m-makin’ music.” He huffingly laughed, a rather brutal thrust pulling a deep moan from your chest. A thrust that pushed your body harder into the keys beneath you, the piano letting out a horrid sound at the sudden movement. 

“I-It’ll be inspiration.” You wavered, moving his lips against yours in a sloppy dance of tongues and spit.

That deep build rolled around within you. Rolled and spurred your hips to move that much faster against Buggy’s. The added pressure of his pelvic bone slamming against his finger, which pushed against your clit that much harder had that white buzz spread through your thighs, into your hips, and then to rush wildly down through your core.

Buggy pulled from your kiss, free hand shooting up to hold your neck in a loose hold so that he could watch your brows furrow and mouth hang open in a gasping call of his name as you came. Your walls fluttered and clenched around his cock, pulling your name and nicknames alike from Buggy’s panted lips. 

He pushed fully into you, nose brushing against yours as hot ribbons of come shot into your constricting pussy in spurts.

Buggy whimpered, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His body fell slump against yours, only held up by your legs around his waist and your arms around his waist. You held him tight, pressing your forehead into the side of his head, breathing in his scent with each heaving pull of air into your lungs.

“I think--I think we broke the piano.” You panted with a chuckle, kissing his shoulder. Buggy groaned, his body finding strength enough to hold you back just as tight.

“Whatever--I’ll steal you another one. I’ll steal so many pianos you won’t know what to do with them all.” You kissed his shoulder once more, a large, goofy grin pulling to your lips. One that, just like that warm feeling in your chest, you couldn’t help.

“Thank you. Today was very extra special.”

Original Requester for main Songbird series: @srgtjamesbarnes

Tag List: @lostfirefly , @fanaticsnail , @empressofmankind , @synoname-wordsmith , @cefni , @solarrexplosion , @luvrsbian , @misadventures0fdes , @fanshavegottensotoxic , @wasabiprophet , @ane5e , @friedtacokitty

[naurimastaur]

Seeing them for the first time, again

Summary: losing a lung and your friends to wkcd meant Gally had a pretty shit year. What’s the harm however, in seeing a familiar face?

Pairing: Gally (maze runner) x nb!reader

A/N: this is so cringe but I’m so obsessed with him Idc if this flops with the dying tmr fandom// also this is my first attempt at angst so go easy on me

———————————————————————

“Hey everybody relax, we’re all on the same side here,” Gally called out amongst the chaos. The faces of his old friends turning towards him in apprehension. The familiarity of his voice momentarily pausing their act of rebellion, the concealment of his face enhancing their confusion.

“What do you mean, we’re all on the same side? Who the hell are you?” Thomas, ever the skeptic, interrogated.

Gally’s eyes weren’t focused on him however, for lingering in the back was the reason he joined the right arm to begin with; y/n. Wretched and messy but all in one piece, they stood in front of him.

It was like seeing them for the first time, all over again.

———————————————————————

Gally had heard the familiar siren of the box’s arrival. He wasn’t remotely interested most of the time on seeing who came up with it. On this day however Gally had overworked himself, and the idea of joyfully revelling in a greenie’s newfound terror seemed like a treat.

Towering over the box he spotted a figure hiding amongst the supplies, crouched like a caged animal, eyes wild and ferocious. He had to admit his curiosity was peaked, most greenies were crying at this point. This one however had looked at him in rage, a hand lingered behind their back.

“Where the hell am I?” They snarled, chest slightly heaving, the only real indicator of their fear.

“Your new home,” Gally had replied, a sarcastic smile on his face. His gaze never left the greenie, whose eyes had regarded each and every teen boy in front of them with predatory caution.

“Why can’t I remember anything?” They questioned, eyes never focused on one person.

“All part of the glade’s charm,” Gally said, before he had reached out an arm for them to take. His admiration controlled his limbs before his brain did.

The greenie considered his offer before they had hauled themselves up, and bolted towards the maze doors. Gally hadn’t bothered to run after them, leaving the job to someone who actually cared like Newt. He had however returned his gaze to the supplies, noticing one of the crates was missing a shard of wood, no doubt a fault of the greenie’s.

He had to admit he was enamoured from that point onwards.

———————————————————————

Now they stood adjacent, mirroring their first encounter. Y/n was looking at him with rekindled fury, this time paired with their tainted memories. Their gally had died back in the maze, physically and figuratively. This version was a stranger; a defying act against fate.

The fire within them was awakening once again, where it was quieted by the nature of the glade, it now burned with the raw desire for revenge.

Their wrath was overcoming their joy. For where their heart was aching for the comfort of Gally, for the ease of his embrace, the overbearing rage was all-consuming.

Wkcd had taken Gally, that much they were certain of. This was a trick, a taunting illusion created from the depths of their imagination and wkcd’s tampering. Their time confined within wkcd’s laboratories meant they were forever trapped in their own mind, never knowing for certain what was real.

What was real was that there was a time when Gally had been theirs, when his company mellowed their temper and gave them faith. But those feelings had died with him, things were different now. They were both different; no longer two sides of the same coin but two puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit anymore.

( why did I write this cringe corny ass ending)

———————————————————————

A/n: might write a part 2 if I’m feeling silly. Also, why did I describe y/n so animalistic? Bc I’m so crazy and quirky and I can do what I want!!!! If you’d like to leave a request for any character for me to write, feel free I’m open to any! To my Weasley twin enthusiasts I will write them again don’t sweat it, I’m going through a phase<3

@thescrunkler despite you not being in a tmr phase, you’re getting tagged anyways x

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Writing prompt (It’s silly)

- They sit down and TALK (while cuddling maybe). Stede explains what happened that night, and Ed explains what happened that day (was it at daytime? I don’t remember. But it’s izzy’s confrontation. That turned depressed ed into Kraken (and also depressed) ed )

““You don’t have to tell me or anything- I just- I’d just like to know what happened. The night you…”

Abandoned me was left unsaid”

They thank each other for being sincere at the end, ed feeling particularly guilty for leaving the crew at an island and throwing Lucius overboard.

I just want them to sort it out, to know the full story. Stede to tell ed he ended up faking his own dead in the most dramatic way possible to be back with him. And Ed to tell stede how it was when he first went back to the revenge, just curled up on bed and crying

I love heavy dialogue fanfics, sue me

LOVED this one! It wound up being one of my personal favorite fics I wrote for my birthday! <3

“Was it the kiss?”

Stede paused, his fingers stilling in Ed’s hair. He might’ve been close to drifting off, before Ed had to open his mouth. “Hm?”

Ed had to take a moment, push down the urge to leave this conversation for an easier time. They were trying to get past that. Talk it through as a crew of two, Stede was saying. And Ed had been thinking about this all fucking day, ever since Stede woke him up with a smiling kiss.

“I, uh,” he said, humming softly when Stede’s fingers started right back up in his hair. They’d taken to going to bed a full hour early, lately, just so they could cuddle and chat, and Ed never felt safer than he did just like this, his head pillowed on Stede’s chest. They could talk. He would be okay. “I was just wondering. Y’know, that day. Was it the kiss that made you panic?”

“Ah,” Stede said softly. “No. No, Ed, I promise it wasn’t the kiss. I loved the kiss.”

“Okay,” Ed mumbled.

Stede offered no further elaboration, instead moving his hand down to scritch lightly through Ed’s beard in a very obvious ploy to distract him. That could be the hard part about talking it through as a crew of two. Stede was a slippery motherfucker.

Tough luck. Ed could multitask.

He nuzzled into Stede’s hand, eyes closing at the feeling of Stede’s fingers in his beard. “You don’t have to tell me or anything. I just - I’d just like to know what happened. The night you…”

He trailed off. Hadn’t quite thought through where that sentence was going to go, distracted by Stede’s lovely fingers lovingly brushing along his jaw, and the last part, the abandoned me, hung heavy in the air.

“Because, like,” Ed went on, desperate to fill the silence, “if it was something I did, then I’m kinda scared I might repeat it -”

That was it. Fuckin’ bulls-eye. Getting Stede to open up could be like pulling teeth, but if he realized that his silence was making Ed suffer…

“No,” Stede gasped, reaching his other hand away to land on Ed’s side. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and like this, Stede’s hand always rested protectively over the cluster of scars on his tummy. “No, Ed, sweetheart, you didn’t do anything.”

Ed hummed softly, invitingly.

“I don’t want to make excuses,” Stede whispered, his eyes wide in the dark of their bedroom.

“No excuses, but I just want an explanation,” Ed said.

“Well…” Stede let his head flop back against the pillows. “Honestly, Ed, if I’d been woken up, I probably would’ve been there, but -”

“Wait, back up,” Ed said, resting his hand over Stede’s on his tummy. “If you’d been woken up? What do you mean if? I had a guy -”

Stede let his eyes close, like he didn’t want to watch Ed’s face. “That guy never woke me up, Ed,” he admitted, his voice a near-whisper. “It was Badminton -”

“The admiral?” Ed frowned. “What would he - shit, Stede, did he hurt you?”

Stede grimaced.

Ed sat bolt upright in bed, looking down at Stede in shock. “Did he -”

“It’s alright, sweet pea.” Stede sat up, too, taking Ed’s hand, putting it on his chest so he could feel his heartbeat. “Think he was a little pissed. About the whole thing with me killing his brother. He was so worked up, marched me out there at gunpoint -”

“What the shit,” Ed whispered.

“It’s okay,” Stede hurried to say, “because he tripped. Shot himself right in the eye. He was really drunk.”

“Stede, holy fucking shit,” Ed whispered, bringing his hands up to cup Stede’s face, just feel for himself that he was alright. “That’s fucking - shit! You could’ve died!”

Stede frowned, like he was digesting that.

“Oh my God, Ed,” he near-shouted, then. “I could’ve died!”

“Are you just now realizing that?”

“It’s the first time it’s really - fucking sunk in, thanks,” Stede snipped, shaking his head at the cieling. “Holy shit, I almost missed out on…all of this!”

Ed rubbed Stede’s back, trying to help ground him. Thankfully, Stede seemed a bit pissed more than truly rattled, and just mumbled about how Badminton really should’ve been kicked off the base acting like that before he was able to get to him, and…

Was Ed happy that Stede had been held at gunpoint? No. Fuck no. He wished he could bring Badminton back from the dead so he could shoot him personally. But…it was nice to know the context. He didn’t think he’d ever actually been angry with Stede, but it was still easier to swallow the whole thing knowing that Stede had been through something that would’ve made anyone panic.

It meant that it hadn’t been Ed’s fault.

Which led him directly to - 

“Hey, Stede,” Ed realized, shaking Stede’s shoulder. “Do you think what happened with me was your fault?”

Stede paused in the middle of his tirade about poor guard management at the barracks (“really, there was no reason he should’ve been able to march out a registered academy member at gunpoint without us being stopped by some authority”), and he blinked at Ed a bit blankly. “Uh,” he said, “yes?”

“Alright, that’s what I was afraid of.” Ed squirmed a bit. “Can you hold me for this?”

They repositioned, moving Ed between Stede’s legs so he could lay with Stede’s arms around his back and his head resting on Stede’s wonderful soft tits. The world was better from this vantage point.

“You really don’t have to get into any of it,” Stede told him, resting a hand on Ed’s cheek.

Ed nuzzled into his palm. “I want to,” he said, a bit surprised by how much he meant it. “You don’t deserve to think it was your fault. Just like…”

“Just like how you didn’t deserve to think me not showing up was your fault,” Stede finished with a smile, encouraging.

Ed took a deep breath.

“So,” he began, haltingly, “you know what happened when I got back to the ship?”

Stede frowned. “You pushed Lucius?”

Ed let out a little frustrated huff of a breath. “No, man. I mean, I was upset, but I was okay. I cried a lot, made a blanket fort. Slept in your robes because they smelled like you. I wrote some lyrics. I sang for the crew. I was feeling so much better. I thought they were gonna support me, in not wanting to be pirates anymore.”

Stede’s frown was deepening, a confused line popping out between his eyebrows.

“It’s not an excuse,” Ed hurried to say. “But Izzy, y’know, I said I wanted everyone to call me Edward, and then Izzy came in and told me he should’ve let the English kill me, and he said death was better than how I was acting, and he yelled at me until I tried to choke him - just to get him to stop, I swear - and then he said that was me, the violence was me, and he told me I better watch my fuckin’ step.”

He was rambling, a bit, because Stede had gotten very still and very quiet.

“Stede?” Ed prompted, nudging him a little.

“You’re telling me,” Stede said, his voice quivering with an anger Ed was a bit thrilled to realize wasn’t directed at him, “that he did that and I mourned his death? I let everyone blame you for what happened with his leg? Fuck, Ed, I would've shot him in both legs my fucking self, if I'd known! I just let him walk around my ship and -”

“Hey, hey, babe!” Ed rested his chin on Stede’s chest. “It’s okay, he got better -”

“Holy shit.” Stede dragged a hand over his eyes. “You had to interact with him - he came into our bedroom and opened the curtains on us in bed, after he did that to you.”

Ed frowned. “That’s - it’s okay, he was just being Izzy.”

“It’s not okay!” Stede shook his head emphatically. “You must’ve felt so unsafe -”

“I didn’t,” Ed promised. “I didn’t, because you were there.”

Stede let his breath out, long and slow.

“It doesn’t excuse what I did,” Ed mumbled, deciding to play with Stede’s chest hair instead of meet his eyes any longer. “And I feel awful for the crew. I shouldn’t have pushed Lucius. It wasn’t right, to take it out on them.”

Stede, apparently, had not moved on. “If I were you, I would've eaten his toes myself, just to really drive home the point.”

Ed snorted. “Babe.”

“I’m serious, Ed.” Stede held Ed’s face, making him meet his eyes. “Be sorry for the crew all you want. They’re okay. But you did not deserve that - do you think Buttons can bring people back from the dead? I’d like to have a word with someone.”

“Stede.” Ed let his body relax, curling around Stede’s. “Y’know, I wasn’t planning on giving you visions of bloodlust.”

Stede huffed. “You deserve the bloodlust.”

That was an idea, that Ed was worthy of the protection. Ed tabled it for later.

“Anyway,” he said, forging bravely ahead, “the point was - it wasn’t your fault.”

Stede blinked. Looked at him. Blinked again. 

“Oh,” he said, then. “I mean, it didn’t help -”

“Did not help, no.”

“But it wasn’t…” Stede nodded. “It wasn’t all me.”

“Wasn’t primarily you. Wouldn’t have happened at all if it had been just you.”

“Huh,” Stede said. “That’s…good to know.”

It was. It was good to know that it hadn’t been Ed’s fault, for Stede to know that it hadn’t been his.

“Life’s a dick,” Ed shrugged, figuring that was really the best way to sum it all up. “Hey, uh, if you don’t mind me asking - how did you leave Barbados? If you went back to your wife?”

“Oh!” Stede cuddled Ed close, his face breaking out into a smile. “Ed, you would’ve loved it! It was amazing - so, it all started when my ex-wife tried to stab me in the earhole with a skewer…”

Ed laughed and gasped through Stede’s story, and something in him felt quiet, for the first time in a long time. He still thought he had more amends to make. He still felt awful for the crew. But the whole world felt lighter.

Ed snuggled close to his boyfriend, and the world felt easy.

[ccstiles]

imagine one evening, Alphonse is lying next to Boo when they’ve already fallen asleep. He’s also sleepy, but his thoughts are keeping him up.

It surprised him when he found out he was Boo’s first relationship. Out of anyone they had ever met, they chose him. They had waited patiently for all these years to find someone and then they met him and decided he was worth a chance.

Al’s not sure what they saw in him, but if being with him makes them happy, happier than they’ve ever been before, then perhaps it’s worth it.

I’m making myself cry

NO WAIT THAT IS SO CUTE OH MY GOD???

Sugarboo and Alphonse said farewell to Seth as he rode off on his motorcycle, Betty in hand.

It had been a lot of stress to get the two boys to a point where they didn't want to strangle each other, but to Sugarboo it was worth it.

The two flopped onto Al's couch, happy to be done with that situation when Alphonse spoke up,

"let's just hope that when your ex comes to town, it's not as difficult to deal with" he joked, turning to Sugarboo.

"well that won't be much of a problem," they said quietly, nervous to tell Alphonse, "Because I don't have any exes."

"wait, what?" Alphonse was confused, "what do you mean you don't have any exes?"

"I mean, you're my first ever relationship." Sugarboo hid their face in their hands, "I never really found that... Connection with anyone else."

Alphonse just sat there in shock for a moment. He was Sugarboo's first relationship? He couldn't believe it. All this time, they hadn't been able to find a connection with someone, but they had found one in him?

Sugarboo yawned then and changed the conversation. "As much as I love talking with you Al, I'm really tired"

"oh yeah, me too," Alphonse smiled as he looked down where Sugarboo had laid their head on his shoulder, "wanna cuddle?"

"is that even a question?" Sugarboo giggled as they turned to wrap Alphonse in a big embrace, giggling as he maneuvered the both of them to lay comfortably on the couch together.

"good night boo," Alphonse kissed the top of their head once they were comfortable.

"mmm, g'night Al," Sugarboo was already dozing off, content.

Alphonse just smiled at them as he too tried to go to sleep.

But no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept on wandering to what Sugarboo had said. It was still so astonishing that Alphonse was their first ever relationship. He, out of everyone that Sugarboo had met on their journey of life, was the first person whom they fell for.

He didn't know what it was about him, maybe the charm, maybe the good looks, maybe the attitude. But deep down, he knew. It wasn't because of how he was as a person, no, it was something deeper than that.

Seth had always gone on about magic and fate and Mothman or whatever, and Alphonse always thought it was silly. But now, here he was, with his beloved Boo, and he gets it now.

They were fated to be together, to love each other, to be each other's whole world

And Alphonse wouldn't have it any other way.

[whumpy-wyrms]

The Last Lab Rat #9: Alone - part 1

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content: lab whump, captivity, nightmare (italicized), parent death mention, isolation, fear of abandonment and death, sensory deprivation, starvation, emotional whump, claustrophobia, escape attempt, needle mention, winged whumpee

sorry this took so long i’ve been busy irl but hopefully i’ll be back posting weekly chapters soon. also today is Dew’s birthday!! i’m gonna draw something but i might post that a bit late but happy birthday Dew!! silly guy

—

Dew woke up sprawled out among his pile of blankets on his bed. He yawned and sat up, stretching out his wings with a sigh of contentment. He sleepily rubbed his eyes and flopped back on the bed. That was the best sleep he’s had since…

Wait.

Dew’s eyes shot open, remembering last night and the days before. But when he expected to see the scientist standing over him with needles and knives, he saw nothing. Literally nothing. Dew sat up in bed, still groggy from his rest, and looked around. His eyes were open, and they were working— looking out the window, he could see the faint red glow of a few digital clocks and other machines— but the light was off. All of the lights were off, and the scientist was nowhere to be seen.

This had never happened before. Anton had always arrived super early in the mornings to check on his favorite little lab rat. Even if he wasn’t in his room waiting for Dew to wake up, he was still working in the lab on other things Dew couldn’t comprehend. The lights were always on, usually dimmed in the mornings before the experiments began, but the only time the lights were all completely off was at night. But it wasn’t night.

Dew looked out at the glowing digital clock: 8:12AM. Anton always woke Dew up at 7. He was late.

Whatever was going on this morning, Dew was too tired to do anything about it. He flopped down into bed and snuggled under the covers. He’d take advantage of this strange start to a day. A bit of extra comfort now would make up for hours of painful experimentation that would surely happen later. Dew closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

. . .

Dew woke up. He was sleeping in a bed, but the blankets were fluffier, and green and brown… not white like the ones on his bed in the lab. He sat up, bumping his head against the… ceiling? Where was he?

Dew opened his eyes. His gaze fell to his old minecraft themed bedspread he had as a kid. On the walls were posters for his and his roommates favorite shows and bands and video games. The light was off, but the sun was shining through the windows, and he basked in the warmth on his skin. He was home.

But how? Dew spread his wings and glided off of the top bunk, feeling the soft carpet under his feet. He took a look around. Everything was almost the same as he left it, but his friends were nowhere to be seen, and neither was their cat Sir Bonkles. But that didn’t matter right now. Dew could cry. He was back.

Dew ran though his old house– no, his home. Anton’s lab wasn’t his home and it never would be. He ran to the living room and saw Layla sitting on the couch with Sir Bonkles purring in her lap. Mars’s enclosure sat on a table against the wall, the ball python curled up inside. Dew caught the smell of something cooking, and looked in the kitchen to see Hayden and Sawyer painstakingly trying to make breakfast for everyone. Wait, Sawyer was here?

“Hey,” Dew said.

“Oh, hey Dewdrop!” Layla exclaimed, pausing her show.

“Where’ve you been?” Hayden asked. “We missed you.”

“I… I um, I was…” Dew’s mind flashed with memories he’d rather forget. Memories of fear and pain, of being kept in a room, trapped in a lab, memories of failed escape attempts and needles. So, so many needles. Memories of his captor taunting him about how nobody was coming to rescue him. Dew tried blinking away the tears forming in the corner of his eyes, but they fell anyway. “Weren’t you looking for me?”

“Of course we were!” Sawyer said. “I didn’t stop looking. I’m happy you’re back, Dewey.”

“W-wait, how’d I get h–”

“Oh!” Layla exclaimed, looking out the window. “Scooby Dew, your parents are here!”

Dew’s heart skipped a beat. All his strange excitement for being back immediately vanished and was replaced with a sense of dread oozing through his body. This wasn’t right. “W-what…?”

The door opened, and Dew’s mom and dad walked in, holding bundles of balloons. They looked just like Dew remembered them… not from the funeral, but back when they were alive. They looked happy. They were smiling. They were alive.

Oh. It was a dream.

This was all just a dream.

“Everyone’s so happy you’re back, Dew!” Hayden said, bringing Dew a plate of chocolate chip pancakes. “We have to celebrate, you’ve been gone such a long time.”

Of course it was a dream.

“Yeah, we have a whole season of our show to catch up on!” Layla exclaimed, patting the spot next to her on the couch. Dew sat down. “And I’ve gotta show the progress I’ve made on the game we’ve been working on. I can only code so much, you’re the writer Dew, you gotta help us!”

Of course he wasn’t actually out.

“Oh! Dew,” Hayden said. “That new video game you’ve been waiting for was released! You missed it, we were gonna play it together, remember?”

“Hey Dew,” Sawyer said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I wanted to say I forgive you for what you said to me a few months ago. I know we haven’t talked, but I would still like to be your friend.”

No. He wouldn’t say that!

“Stop!” Dew exclaimed, jumping from the couch and flaring his wings out. Everybody stopped and stared. It was eerily silent.

“Th-this isn’t real! This is just a dream! It’s just a fucking dream!”

He heard his parents talking. He couldn’t understand what they were saying to him, their words were jumbled and their voices didn’t sound quite right. Dew tried to look away, tried to squeeze his eyes shut but he couldn’t help but glance up at them. From a distance they looked familiar. A distant memory, nostalgic, a blurry photograph taken from far away. But up close they were blank, their faces jumbled and unrecognizable. Dew rarely made eye contact with people, he always had trouble remembering faces and after his parents died, he avoided looking at photos of them because it was too painful. A constant reminder of what he would never see again. That was five years ago. They only haunted his dreams now.

“N-no… you’re not real. J-Just leave me alone!”

Everybody disappeared. The room was empty, and Dew was alone again.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” Dew cried. He opened the front door and looked at the sky. It was weird. Not a normal sky. But he didn’t care.

Dew took off. He flew through the air at a speed that felt faster than light itself. He felt the wind blowing through his feathers and a flock of birds surrounding them as if he was one of their own. The trees were tall, never ending as they stretched up into the sky with him. But he eventually flew higher than those too.

But it wasn’t real. Dew wasn’t flying through the sky and clouds and air like he’d always wanted, he was having a dream in Anton’s lab. And he knew this.

But he didn’t care. He flew and flew and planned to fly forever, higher and higher and higher. It felt so real, he hoped he would never wake up. That way, everyone would get what they wanted. Dew could fly forever, and Anton could use his body as a test subject, unable to resist.

But after a while, the more he spiralled, the more the sky turned colors and his flesh warped around him, the more the birds started talking to him in human words, and his nonexistent watch displayed numbers that didn’t exist, the more this fucked up reality faded away.

The last thing he saw before he woke up, was a little mouse in his hands, telling him the words, “I’m sorry.”

. . .

Dew gasped awake. “Dammit!” He screamed into his hands as tears flowed down his cheeks. It was just a dream. It was just a fucking dream.

Dew grabbed the blanket and yanked it over his head, curling into a ball and squeezing his eyes shut. Anton had to be in his room now, watching him, mocking him. He had another bad dream that was almost making him burst into tears, how pathetic was that? But it was too hot under the blanket, too suffocating. Dew threw it off of him, almost falling off of the bed by the force of his throw. If Anton was there, he would’ve laughed… Wait, he still wasn’t there?

Dew wasn’t expecting the lights to still be off in his room. He wasn’t expecting all of the lights to be still off. It was pitch dark in the lab. Dew blinked a couple times, maybe his eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark yet? No… nothing had changed. Dew looked out the window to the glow of the clocks. 11:24AM.

Okay. This was fine. Anton was over three hours late. He had probably just slept in from being woken up last night. This was fine. Dew couldn’t see anything, not even his hands frantically waving in front of his face. This was fine.

Maybe the power went out? No, that wouldn’t explain how the clocks were still working, or why Anton was nowhere to be found.

Dew looked up towards the door, at where the camera would be. If Anton wasn’t in the lab, he would surely be watching him through that, right? That was how he found out about Dew’s nightmare last night, after all.

Oh shit– Dew cringed. How could he have been so stupid? Asking Anton to stay with him last night? What was he thinking?

Dew hated Anton. He hated him! He’d always hated him and sometimes the thoughts of killing him and escaping were the only thoughts that got him through this hell. But thinking about what had happened last night, it wouldn’t make any sense for Anton to just abandon him like this. The scientist wasn’t the type of person to just forget, or sleep in, or decide to take a random day off. He had a rigid schedule that he stuck to, and he seemed to never want to spend too much time away from his test subject if he didn’t need to.

Dew was his test subject though. Thinking about it like that made him want to cry, but at the moment, stuck in Anton’s lab, it was true. He was a test subject, and the scientist controlled every part of his life. Dew needed Anton if he was going to survive here. Anton knew he needed him. Dew didn’t want to die, but he surely would if Anton didn’t take care of him. As much as Dew didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to need Anton, he did.

“H-Hey!” Dew yelled, hoping the camera also had a microphone. “Why are all the lights off? I’m- I’m hungry!” Dew felt silly screaming into the air at nothing, but what else could he do?

“...I know you’re watching me!” Dew lied. “Stop ignoring me!” Nothing happened. “If- if this is some trick or- or experiment, like if you wanna see how I react to isolation or something, well, your cover's blown! I know what you’re planning now so you might as well come feed me!”

Silence.

Dark, suffocating, eerie silence.

“...Anton!” Dew shouted, not even at the camera anymore. He ran to the wall that looked over the lab and banged on the glass. “Anton! Anton! Anton?…” His screams died down after a little while, when he was sure he wouldn’t get a response.

“Just fucking great,” Dew sighed to himself. He stood in his room, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in this dark void. It was a small room, and there was almost nothing to do but wait until whenever Anton showed up. Dew didn’t understand what was happening, why, of all days, Anton just… Wasn’t here. But it was fine, he supposed, it meant he’d be free from pain for a little while.

Even if Dew did have something to do, it was impossible to see anything. He didn’t want to just go back to sleep though, after two terrible dreams in a row. And besides, he’d gotten a lot of sleep by now. He was wide awake.

Dew paced his room, trying to calm down. He was hungry, but he could go a few more hours without food, it was fine. Dew held his arms out in front of him, feeling the walls for the bathroom door. Dew was thankful Anton had removed that chain from his ankle a few weeks prior, at least now he wouldn’t have to worry about tripping over it in the dark.

Brushing his teeth was easy in the dark, and so was showering. It was a routine, a pattern. Not being able to see didn’t change anything. And Dew liked the dark, he’d always loved being in small, dark spaces, it had always been a comfort to him.

It was only until recently that he first felt the creeping fear of the dark, a cold chill go crawl up his spine whenever it was too dark to see what was lurking behind him. It didn’t make sense; Anton was the only other person here. But still, Dew hated the constant feeling that he was being watched, even in the darkness.

It was only until recently that he had grown to hate confined spaces. His growing wings needed to stretch out, and Dew was forced to spend his time out in the open. Yet another thing his captor took from him.

But that was fine. That didn’t even matter. There were so many more things that were more important than not being able to have slumber parties with his friends in the tiny room under the stairs anymore, or listening to music in his dark closet.

The shower helped Dew’s racing heart, but did nothing to get him out of this… situation. It was strange, wanting the things that hurt him; the too bright lights to turn on and Anton to walk through the door. It meant pain, most likely, and fear… but it also meant he wasn’t alone.

Dew almost hated being alone more than being with Anton.

And he hated that.

Dew didn’t have any dishes, so he cupped his hands under the cool sink water and sipped it from there. At least he knew he wouldn’t die from dehydration. But he still had no food.

He checked the clock. 13:23. He learned how to read a 24 hour clock at this point, it was a little over 1pm. Anton was over six hours late.

This wasn’t fine anymore. Of course it wasn’t. Where could Anton possibly be? Dew thought of all the things that could've happened to his captor to keep him from coming down here, and it just didn’t make sense. Anton hadn’t left Dew’s side for almost two months straight, why had he suddenly abandoned him?

Maybe he got caught? Maybe Dew’s friends or the authorities finally found him and locked him up… but then why weren’t they coming to Dew’s rescue? Did Anton destroy the keys to the lab? Was Dew now stuck here forever, his friends on the other side of the door, waiting for some miracle to open it?

Dew shook those thoughts away. Of course they weren’t. Of course, they must still be looking for him, but he’d know if they found him by now. They wouldn’t need a key to open a door when they could just kick it down.

So what was it then? Where the fuck was Anton? Was he in trouble? Did something happen? Dew supposed the worst possible thing would be if something bad did happen to Anton, and he wasn’t around to help Dew. At all. That thought, that feeling of sheer abandonment and knowing that if Anton disappeared, nobody would ever find your body, deep underground in the secret lab.

Dew laid down on his stomach, resting his head in his arms while his wings fidgeted nervously above him. He felt his stomach growl with hunger and he wished he had his music to listen to… If not that, then humming his favorite songs until Anton showed up would have to do.

Because he would show up, and Dew would have the slight comfort of knowing he wouldn’t die here, at least not abandoned and all alone.

. . .

Dew couldn’t take it anymore. How long had it been? It was 6PM already. Eleven hours after Anton was supposed to wake him up. He’d hummed the lyrics to probably 100 songs by now, all of them jumbling together as the minutes slowly ticked by. He felt like he was going insane, there was absolutely nothing to do. There was nothing to see, to hear, taste, smell… it was torture.

Dew wished he’d asked for a notebook, or a book to read, or anything to make his time here less boring. But he’d usually spend time with Anton in the lab during the day, and resting during the night, too tired from the experiments to do anything else. So he never bothered to ask for things to keep him entertained. How he wished he did now… even if it was too dark to see it.

The only sound he could hear besides his rapidly beating heart and racing thoughts was the air conditioning start up every hour. The white noise drowned out some of his spiral, but it was no use.

Eventually Dew decided to take another shower, to feel the warm water turn freezing cold and smile as Anton’s water bill went up. But that got boring quickly too. He kept the water on though, the silence he onced loved turning suffocating.

Dew stared at the clock. 19:45. It’d been over 12 hours. He’d stopped trying to sleep a while ago. Dew was curled up in a ball on the floor in the corner of his room. He stared at the camera with hatred in his eyes.

“I bet you think this is funny, huh,” Dew spat. “You found out last night I hate being alone, so you thought you’d leave me all alone in the dark today, huh? With no food? Or stimulation, o-or company? You just wanna torture me now, is that it?” Dew wrung his hands through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut at an attempt to hold back tears.

“You think– that maybe being ‘nice’ isn’t working, it’s not making me want to stay here willingly… So you decided to abandon me, make me see how much I need you and d-depend on you. S-so that when you come back and feed me, I-I’ll want to stay because I can’t stand being alone– all fucking alone in this cage! You wanna see me break, is that it?! You want me to be compliant and obedient while you fucking experiment on me like some animal?!

“I’m not an animal… I’m a person, Anton! I’m a person and I know you know that! I know you have this strange fucking– perception of me and sometimes you treat me nice but the other times you treat me like I don’t even have a fucking mind! You don’t make any sense! I don’t understand you!

“But if this– if all this is some trick to get me to willingly take part as a test subject like you want– It’s not working! I won’t fall for any of your fucking tricks again! Go fuck youself! Go fuck yourself and go die! I’ll kill you, you hear me!? When I get out of here I will fucking rip you apart!”

Dew hadn’t realized he stood up, but he found himself standing in front of the door, staring at the camera as tears flowed down his cheeks– he hadn’t noticed he started crying either. Dew grabbed the camera and yanked it from the wall, throwing it to the floor and laughing as it smashed into pieces.

“Fuck. Fuck!” Dew collapsed to the ground and cried in a ball. Anton wouldn’t be happy about him breaking that. But the scientist couldn’t even see him now. He wasn’t watching him anymore.

He wasn’t watching him anymore.

Dew’s breath hitched at his sudden realization. He was alone. He wasn't being watched. If Anton had been watching through the surveillance camera, he’d surely come down to see what happened to it. But if he wasn’t… He wouldn’t know it was even broken.

Dew’s heart sped up. He uncurled himself from the floor and stood on trembling legs. He was alone. He wasn’t being watched. Nobody was here to stop him. He could escape.

Dew frantically started to try and open the door, kicking it and banging on it. He moved his hands and felt along the walls, as if he’d push a brick in and unlock a secret entranceway. He knew it didn’t make sense, nothing did right now. He was starving, he felt like a feral animal, proving the scientist right as he picked up the chair and threw it at the door. When that did nothing, he then threw it at the glass wall, but that too, was too strong. Dew tried picking up his entire bed frame, but he wasn’t strong enough. He hadn’t eaten all day. He was starving and weak and exhausted.

The air conditioner started up again, signifying the endless passing of time that never seemed to stop. The sound of cool air flowing through his room just reminded him how trapped he was—

Wait a fucking minute.

Dew looked up to the corner of his ceiling, above his bed and to the left. Of course he saw nothing, the room was still dark. But he knew what was there. He knew what’d always been there since day one but the thought never even occurred to him to try and open it. He was too short, too weak to pry open the metal hinges. Especially not with Anton watching through the camera or being in the lab all the time. But now… he was all alone. He could reach the vents now. He could. He could go through them and the scientist would never know because he wasn’t here.

Dew’s wings fluttered in anticipation. Excitement. Suspense. Hope. This wasn’t like the other times he’d tried to escape. He didn’t randomly decide one morning that today would be the day, he didn’t impulsively decide to escape and run and be chased and get hurt. This was controlled. This time, he was alone. He was by himself and Anton was nowhere to stop him or mind control him or hurt him. Dew could escape and there was nothing Anton could do about it because he was gone.

And at this point, Dew didn’t care where Anton went. He was done waiting around for his captor to come back. He had a plan now. This was the chance he’d been waiting for.

Dew waited another half hour, making sure he truly was alone. Maybe a part of himself tried to talk him out of it, told him he’d just be hurt more, worse than before for escaping. But he ignored that part of himself, the part that tried to keep him safe, the part that saw himself as just a test subject.

He couldn’t wait any longer and let that part of himself win. He took a glance at the clock– 20:16, 8PM– before he hopped up on his bed with nervous, shaking legs. He was too short to reach the vents with his arms, so he grabbed the chair in the corner and stacked it on his nightstand and climbed on top of that. If he fell from there, it would hurt, but not as bad as what Anton would do if he caught him escaping.

Dew took one last look towards the direction of the window, down where the door to the lab would be. If it opened now, he could just hop down and pretend everything was normal. He could wait until Anton arrived like the good test subject he was, but Dew knew that wasn’t gonna happen. Fuck that shit. This was it, no going back now.

Dew’s wings fluttered as he jumped in the air and grabbed the bars of the vents with his hands. His legs kicked out and knocked over the chair, having nothing to step on, but that was fine. His wings kicked into action and despite his room being so small, and despite not being able to see where the walls began, he was flying. He positioned himself upside down, hands gripping the vent, feet placed on the ceiling, on either side of it, and pulled with all his strength.

The vent suddenly swung open, causing Dew to fall backwards, but he expected that to happen and he was ready. His wings flapped rapidly as he lunged himself upward, through the hole in the ceiling, and into the unknown.

He collapsed in the small, cold, metal space. He closed the latch back up, covering his tracks, and began to crawl through the tight tunnels. It wasn’t as a tight space as Dew was expecting, which he was thankful for. There was enough room to sit up and turn around if he needed to. It was still dark, and he had to hold his arms in front of him to not bump into a wall, or fall down a sudden turn.

Despite the high stakes situation, Dew couldn’t help but smile. Crawling through the vents like he was in a heist movie was something Dew had always wanted to do. He just hoped it would end with him making it to the surface.

He was crawling for a few moments until he found his first turn, his sense of direction was abysmal so he had no idea what way to go, so he just chose a direction and kept crawling.

A sudden, terrifying thought occurred to him. The lab was located underground, deep, deep underground. If Dew never found an exit, if Anton never got him out of the air ducts, Dew would just die here.

He gulped that thought away. He couldn’t think like that, he wasn’t going to die.

After more twists and turns, he found an opening. He couldn’t see what was out the other side, as the lights were still off, but he didn’t want to be in the vents anymore. So, with the bit of strength he had left, he kicked it open and jumped down, his wings softening the landing.

Dew was out. Dew was out of his room and even though he was hungry, that didn’t matter anymore— nothing mattered now except escaping the lab.

Dew looked around frantically, recognising the familiar feeling of the tiles on the floor, and noticing the glow of the clocks closer to him. He was in the lab. Alone.

It was around 9PM. Dew didn’t think anymore, not about his hunger, not about Anton, not about what would happen to him later, only about finding a way out. He ran to where the clock was, that was a good start. He tripped over some boxes on the floor but regained his footing quickly, fueled solely on adrenaline.

He made it to Anton’s desk, and felt around for anything. He opened drawers until he found a flashlight. It clicked on and Dew let out a sigh of relief. Finally, he could see.

First thing first was finding out what fucking day it was. Dew tried to keep count, but only had a rough estimation at this point. He shined his flashlight over Anton’s desk, picking up a small bag and stuffing it with papers, files, tape recorders, any evidence that would be helpful once he gets out of here. He found a small blank notepad, and a pen, and stuff that into his pants pocket as well. And then his eyes landed on a calendar.

Dew looked at the calendar. All the days that had passed were marked with an ‘X’, except today: October 3rd. It was October already? Dew realized in horror. 

Dew flipped through the calendar a few pages until he got to August. Some of the days had writing over them, important events Anton was waiting for, Dew supposed. One of the days was circled with a blue marker. “New test subject day!” it read. Dew felt sick. Anton had planned it, written the day he was gonna kidnap him down on his calendar like it was any other special event.

Dew had been taken around the beginning of August, and it was already October. Dew felt numb. How had he let eight weeks pass like it was nothing? How could– How hasn’t anybody found him yet? Surely people have been looking, right?

Dew crumpled up the calendar in his hands, tears freely falling down onto it. He’d been here so long, he only just realized his birthday was already two weeks away.

Dew missed out on seven consecutive gamenights with his roommates. He missed over 40 days of work. He missed feeding Hayden’s snake every Wednesday. He missed sitting on the couch with Layla to watch a new episode of her favorite show every Friday, with Sir Bonkles purring on his lap. He missed out on long nights awake playing video games with Sawyer. He missed playing with Sawyer’s dog. He missed Sawyer.

“C-calm down,” Dew told himself. Breaking down wouldn’t help his situation now, he had to focus.

He’d see Sawyer, and Hayden and Layla and all their pets later. He’d reunite with his best friends and confess his most likely unrequited love to them later. Now was not the time to think about all this.

Dew stood up on shaking legs, forgetting about the half-assed bag of evidence he made, and pointed his flashlight towards the direction of the door. He was hungry, he hadn’t eaten in a full 24 hours, but Anton was gone. He was so close, he could just leave if he got the door open.

He shined the flashlight to a nearby shelf, jump scaring himself at the sight of needles, but he shook that fear away. He didn’t have time for fear. Dew took a deep breath and looked over the various strange tools and weapons, any of these outta get that door open.

Just as Dew was heading towards the door with a crowbar in hand, the lights suddenly turned on, briefly blinding him. Dew stopped in his tracks, dread pooling in his stomach, acutely aware of the situation he was in. He hadn’t felt this sense of pure terror before, almost animalistic, this deep sense of dread that made a chill crawl up his spine and his entire body tremble in terror.

He was caught.

Anton was back.

—

:)

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[vampcubus]

Hi, same anon from before who sent the TikTok! I was truly kicking my feet and giggling like a lil maniac watching that Izuku edit 🤭🤭🤭

You and me are the same!! I got dragged back into my MHA hyperfixation 😭 Anyways, after seeing that catboy post of yours, I got inspired to write a bunny hybrid Izuku drabble instead, so here you go <3 I’m not sure I sent this to you already, or if I’m thinking of another person entirely but I hope you enjoy anyways??

— Roseberry anon (if it’s not already taken)

Drabble starts below vv

CW: Sub!Izuku, hybrid behavior, heat/ruts, breeding

Thinking of bunny hybrid Izuku who’s so shy around you, his new owner, for the first few days or so. Thinking about how his long ears stand on high alert, or twitch downwards when you come near him. So skittish, yet curious at the same time; his eyes never straying from your form when you walk around your apartment, in which you’ve been so kind to give him his own room, his own big, comfortable bed. And even though he’s a bit wary at first, he never fails to thank you for your kindness, his hands wringing themselves together as he endearingly thanks you for making him his favorite food, or giving him extra materials for his bedding.

And eventually, over the next couple of weeks, he warms up to you, becoming clingy, wanting to have his possessions scented by you, to be surrounded by you because you bring him comfort in every aspect of his life. He can’t help but to hop in place, a wide smile pushing dimples into his freckled cheeks as he excitedly welcomes you home. You giggle at his adorable actions, at the way his cotton ball tail is constantly twitching and wiggling. It’s this sight that causes you to reach out and touch the fluffy appendage, without much thought. And to your utmost delight, Izuku’s face goes bright red, his eyes becoming round as coins as his breath hitches cutely and his tail twitches once, twice in your hold. Testing the waters, you squeeze experimentally and Izuku lets out the most adorable whimper you’ve ever heard, one of his scarred hands shooting out to feebly grasp at your forearm. Though, it wasn’t to pull you away, but rather to encourage you, to ask for more of your delicious touch.

And after this, Izuku’s still so shy, except this time, he’s shy when asking for more of your touch, for your help during his painful ruts. Ruts that make him think only of you, your lips kissing him, and your fingers trailing down his heated body, all the way to his sensitive cock. It makes him delirious, makes him want to do anything you ask of him, if only you keep making him feel this damn good. In times like this, he doesn’t know whether he wants to breed you, or for you to breed him; his hips present themselves to you while he’s on all fours, his tail twitching sporadically and his ears flopped over to cover his burning cheeks as he pushes his ass back invitingly, mewling and crying out for you. It’s something you can never deny, something you always give in to, because how could you ever not? Especially when he looks back at you, his eyebrows tilted up in bliss, his mouth set in a cute pout as his hand reaches back towards you to once again set your fingers onto his fluffy tail, a breathy whine escaping him afterwards with tears beginning to dot along his lash line. Under your ownership, you take care of your cute bunny hybrid to the best of your abilities, and if he asks you to fuck him silly until the only thing he remembers is your name, then so be it. It’s a win-win scenario after all.

NONNIE YOU PUT YOUR WHOLE PUSSY INTO THIS. I'M SALIVATING!! MAKIN' ME WANNA WRITE FOR HIM AGAIN SO BAD. you know what you're doin' comin' in here and presenting such a meal as this, and with bunzuku no less! you're not slick 😤 (but i'm slick cus this is so hot) for shame! (please feed me more 🧎‍♀️)

curse you (thank you for your service 🙇‍♀️)

[beneathashadytree]

Hii how are you?❤️ I'd like to request prompts 41. and 58. with either Avdol or Polnareff from JJBA. Could you make it so the reader is pregnant or postpartum, and they're not the most confident in their body, which is noticed by the man who wants to show them that they're not any less attractive to him (all of this during a vacation abroad)? I apologize if there are any mistakes but English isn't my first language.

I love your work and I hope the request isn't too much </3

PERFECT - JEAN-PIERRE POLNAREFF X READER

Warnings : reader has twins, mentions of pregnancy, post-partum insecurity and body-image problems, kissing, light nipple play, fingering, this is not proofread, reader is female-bodied but gender-neutral!

Genre : fluffy smut 🫶🏽

Word count : 1.6K words

Additional notes : Hi nonnie, I’m doing alright, thank you for your sweetness! I chose Polnareff for this, since it felt fitting for his personality. However, please take care that I do not write for female readers at all. I haven’t written except for gender-neutral readers in over a year, actually, as that’s what makes me most comfortable. I wrote this with they/them pronouns, though the reader has female anatomy. Hope you like it!💗

Prompts : “This part of you...seems to be very sensitive.” “That’s it, there we go… just like that.”

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

“Ma chérie! There you are,” Jean-Pierre exclaimed as he unceremoniously burst into their shared bedroom. “Sorry I took so long. I was putting the twins to bed, when they started crying all over again.”

Without looking up from the night creams they were applying underneath their eyes, they chuckled. “You would think the sounds of the sea from their window would calm them down.”

“Greece doesn’t seem to be to their liking,” their husband sighed dramatically as he flopped onto the bed. “Quite tragic really, when there’s so much to enjoy.”

“Hard for them to enjoy it, when they’ve inherited their strong lungs from you.”

“I’d rather have them loud and healthy any day.” And despite the twins’ wailing at all times of the day and night, they knew that Jean was being honest. After all, he never uttered a word of complaint, and always offered to be the first to help his little angels calm down and see to their needs. If he had it his way, he’d never let his spouse lift a finger.

Humming in agreement, they brushed back their hair for bed, before climbing into their side. With a cheeky grin, Jean-Pierre was quick to lean over them and pull them into his embrace, before peppering their face with loud kisses all over. A sudden burst of laughter escaped them, and his strong arms kept them from wriggling out of his hold.

“There you are,” he said, playfully nipping at their ear. “How I missed hearing that lovely sound.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” they asked, a look of confusion on their face as they half-turned to look at him. Jean had a half-smile on his face, though he looked a little wistful.

“You’ve been a little… forlorn, I guess. I don’t know what it is that’s on your mind, but I do hope you know that you can always share your thoughts with me.”

Sighing, they refused to meet his blue eyes. “They’re silly thoughts, anyways.”

“But nothing is silly when it comes to you!” His voice was earnest as he gave their hips a loving squeeze. “Ma chérie, s’il te plaît. Je veux effacer tous tes problèmes.”

“But this is one you can’t erase, my love.” They smiled sadly as they stared off into the window in front of them. “You can’t exactly bring back my body to the state it was before having the twins, can you?”

He stilled, and for a moment they could swear that they felt him stop breathing altogether—that is, until he inhaled sharply and cursed under his breath. “I should’ve known.”

“Jean—“

“—I should’ve seen the signs. Your avoidance, your hesitance—“

“There was no way you could’ve foreseen this,” they firmly interrupted, gripping his wrist with trembling hands, overwhelmed with their own emotions. “It’s simply how I feel. You can’t control that either. If I find myself unattractive, then that is no one’s problem but mine.”

“But you’re not!” he cried out, “Mon dieu, chérie, do you not know what you do to me?”

Swallowing thickly, they chose to remain quiet. A strangled sound of despair left the Frenchman, before he cursed yet again. After a few seconds of what seemed to be an internal battle of his, he shook his head and pressed a kiss to their temple.

“I can see that no words will comfort you now,” Jean murmured against their skin, “But will you let me show you instead? Exactly how I feel about your body?”

Hesitation was clear on their face for a second, in which he stopped all his ministrations. Then, finally, they said, “Alright.”

“Perfect.” Another sweet kiss fell on their cheek, followed by one at their jaw. “Just relax, will you?”

“I’ll try.” And good as their word, they seemed to untense in his arms.

“That’s it, there we go… just like that.” Jean’s praise sounded like the sweetest thing in the world now. His hand splayed over their stomach began to gently rub circles onto their soft skin, as his kisses trailed a little lower down their neck.

A keen of pleasure escaped them as his lips found that particular spot on their neck that they loved the most, his teeth grazing it and causing them to moan louder at the sensation. After having spent so long without falling into this lovely routine with him, their body had grown quite sensitive—a fact that only grew more apparent as Jean’s hands wandered and tugged their robe completely off their body.

One gloved hand tentatively reached up to their breasts, where their nipples were already growing harder with each kiss. It was rather embarrassing, seeing how their body reacted to him almost instantly. With expertise that only he could’ve had with their body, he groped the softness of their breast, gently squeezing and watching as they gasped at the feeling.

“Does that feel good?” he breathily asked, sucking at their neck and tugging more of those beautiful whines out of them. “You look heavenly when you’re like this in my arms.” Pinching their aching nipple between his fingers, they cried out his name as he tugged just the way they liked it. “Too beautiful when you call for me like that.”

“Don’t tease,” they huffed, gripping his muscular arm for leverage. Jean-Pierre shook his head.

“I’m not teasing you. I’m saying the truth. You really are breathtaking, even more so after you’ve had our twins.” Though his actions were anything but innocent, his words were so full of love that they could feel the sting of tears in their eyes. “You’re radiant.”

Rolling their nipple between his fingers with one final tug, he switched to their other breast to lavish it with the same attention. Clamping their thighs together to hide their growing wetness was futile, as Jean’s other hand teased them open. He drew small, slow circles around their skin, earning a shudder from them as he kept growing closer to where they were aching for him, but never quite giving in to their need.

“Please,” they asked, still a little teary from before, “I want you, Jean.”

“And you’ll always have me, in every way,” he was quick to reassure them, “But I want to spend a little more time loving you before filling you up. Would you like that?”

This time they did not hesitate to nod, and Jean couldn’t hold back the grin at the way they grew more eager for his touch. “Your wish is my command, mon amour.” His other hand left their breasts, only to gently tilt their chin for a proper, hungry kiss. As his warm tongue caressed theirs, and his fingers deftly stroked their chin, his other hand delved between their legs.

They both moaned into the kiss; them at the feeling of his thumb drawing small, fast circles onto their throbbing clit, and him at the feeling of just how wet they were as his index finger traced their dripping entrance.

It felt like their body was on fire, their strings pulled taut as their husband pulled them closer and closer to the edge with his every touch. They could barely even form a thought, let alone do anything but writhe in his arms and pant into their all-consuming kiss.

Jean-Pierre pulled back for a moment, eyes full of want gazing at their hazy ones. As he picked up the pace with his thumb, they began to shift in his embrace, clearly wanting more. “This part of you...seems to be very sensitive.” He chuckled, tapping their clit twice and causing them to cry out. “But I want to make you feel even better. You deserve it, ma belle chérie amour.”

With little warning, he dipped his index finger into their warmth, curling into them in the way he knew they wanted, before a second finger delved into their wetness. He knew every inch of their body like the back of his hand; knew that they would begin to sob with pleasure before he’d even put a third finger in. They were always so sensitive to his touch, so wet for him, and so perfectly tight as their walls fluttered. In fact, he knew…

“You’re close,” he observed, curling his finger even deeper as his thumb circled their clit faster still. “Do you want to cum? I’ll make it feel good, I promise.”

“You always make me feel good,” they sighed, tears clinging to their fluttering eyelashes, before their eyes snapped wide open as his fingers pumped inside them faster with an obscene squelching sound. “Oh, fuck!”

They knew they must’ve been drenching the sheets underneath them, but at the moment, with his fingers filling them up so nicely and his mouth seeking theirs again, they couldn’t care less. All they cared about was how incredible it all felt; how in love they were with everything about the only man that could bring them to the precipice of extreme pleasure without even using his cock, while showering them with lovesick praise.

All it took was another stroke to that particularly sensitive spot inside them, and they were cumming all over his long fingers, sobbing his name and babbling words of love as they rode out their high. Jean’s gaze was nothing if not adoring, and the hardness of his cock against their back was more than enough proof—if they weren’t yet convinced by his actions—that he found them intolerably sexy.

That thought alone made them cry all the harder. He was too lovely, really.

“There, there,” he cooed, ever-so-patient with them, though the passion in his eyes never diminished. Jean-Pierre’s lips kissed every inch of skin within his reach, and nipped and teased whenever he liked to see a blooming red mark on their skin. “See? You’re just as stunning when you cum too. A few more rounds and I’ll have you convinced of how perfect you look in every position possible.” His grin was positively wicked now. “We might even use the mirror for extra emphasis.”

“Jean!”

Taglist : @blondeboyfriend @mrsgiovanna @boorishbrambling

[tickle-bugs]

I have a Glinda and Elphaba prompt idea! Feel free to change things or take anything out. My prompt is semi based on the scene in the show where Glinda tells Elphaba that they should share secrets with eachother. Glinda’s secret is that she is really ticklish so of course Elphaba has to take advantage of that. Elphaba then shares her secret which is that she has never been tickled so Glinda (with Elphaba’s permission) helps Elphaba learn what being tickled feels like.

Secrets, Secrets

“Your very first party? Your very first party ever?! How do you feel?” Glinda bounces around in front of Elphaba’s bed. 

“Different.” Elphaba crosses her legs beneath her. She tracks Glinda back and forth, back and forth. 

“Of course you do! Elphie—“ Glinda comes to a screeching halt, blinking her big, sparkly eyes— “Can I call you Elphie?” 

“It’s a bit…perky.” Elphaba grimaces as supportively as she can. 

“To christen our new friendship, we should…tell each other something we’ve never told anyone.” Glinda flops onto Elphaba’s bed and they both bounce. She grabs for Elphaba’s hands, loud and insistent. 

“I’ll go first. Fiyero and I are going to be married!” Glinda squeals. 

“He’s asked you already?” Elphaba frowns. 

“No, he doesn’t know yet.” 

“Then that’s not much of a secret, is it?” Elphaba raises her eyebrow. Glinda pouts. She hums to herself in thought as her eyes scan the room. 

“Fine…I keep a reserve of extra glitter for formal events.” She gestures to a small tub on her shelf that’s genuinely emitting a low level of light. 

“No.” 

“I’m a natural blonde?” Glinda tries. 

“Definitely not.”

“I am—“

“It’s not a secret, Galinda.” Elphaba pulls on one of her ringlets. She pouts, then gasps with an idea. 

“My entrance essay was called ‘Wands: Need They Have a Point?’” She gestures as if the title would appear in the air.

“I was there when you announced that.” Elphaba snickers. 

“You are so—“ Glinda cuts herself off with a little growly noise that makes Elphaba snicker harder— “I have nothing else to share. My life is a beautifully open book.”

“Dig deep, Galinda. Surely you’ve got something.” Elphaba pokes her stomach and Glinda jumps. She does it again, then again, and keeps going until a stream of squeaky snickers fills the air. 

“E-Elphie, that tickles! Let me think!” Glinda swats her hands away. 

“Now there’s a secret.” Elphaba grins. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” Glinda narrows her eyes.

“Wouldn’t I?” Elphaba mimics the pitch of her voice. Glinda splutters in offense, and then she’s spluttering with laughter as the poking resumes. 

“I’ll turn you into a frog!” Glinda shrieks. Elphaba snorts and keeps poking at her waist. It starts to get less and less effective, especially as Elphaba’s touch gets harder. She frowns, but persists. 

“Y’know, I—eep! I expected you to be better at this.” Glinda still jumps at every poke, even as her laughter grows quiet. Elphaba recoils as if she’s been burned. 

“Oh. You don’t know how, do you?” Glinda murmurs. Elphaba turns sharply away. It’s a silly thing to cry over, but her nose stings with the promise of tears. She can’t help it. 

“Well, because I am so noble and full of dignification…I will assist.” Glinda bows. She takes Elphaba’s hands and places them gently at her waist. Elphaba considers tearing her hands away, but Glinda’s gaze is warm. 

“Now wiggle your fingers. Gently.” Glinda holds Elphaba’s wrists and nods in encouragement. Elphaba presses her lips together.

“Like this?”

Glinda collapses with a bubbly yelp. Elphaba immediately lets go. 

“Did I hurt you?” Elphaba leans over her. 

“No, no—you’re just a quick learner.” Glinda looks up with a dazzling smile, her curls fanned around her on the bed. 

“Oh.” Elphaba flushes a dark green. Glinda could be so much, sometimes. 

“Okay! Your turn!” Glinda boops Elphaba’s nose. 

“My turn?” Elphaba swats her hand away but doesn’t break focus. 

“For a secret, silly!”

“Oh, I don’t really…have one. I think.” Elphaba fiddles with her fingers. 

“Well, I’ll make this easy for you. I expect a rain check on a real secret later.” Glinda scoots so she can sit against the headboard. Her glossy smile tilts into something devious. 

“Are you ticklish, Elphie?” Glinda’s voice catches teasingly on her name. It steals the breath from her lungs. 

“Isn’t everyone?” 

“Dodging the question. Interesting.” Glinda smirks, leaning close. Her eyes rove over Elphaba’s already-warm face. 

“I don’t know. I’ve never been…people usually don’t want to be that close to me. Let alone touch me.” Elphaba sniffs bitterly, dropping her gaze. 

“That’s a shame.” Glinda says firmly. She stays close. Something in Elphaba flutters. 

“May I?” Glinda hovers her fingers over Elphaba’s stomach. Elphaba nods and exhales shakily. 

Glinda must not like that shakiness though, because she frowns deeply and takes Elphaba’s hands instead. She clutches one and spiders her fingers across the palm of the other, tracing up and down from elbow to fingertip.

“How’s that feel?” Glinda hums. 

“It’s…I…” Elphaba’s nose scrunches. Her smile breaks little by little, like the first sunbeams over the horizon. She tries to keep it together, but her lungs keep doing this indomitable shivery thing she can’t kick. Her whole body trembles with the force of restraining herself. 

“I’m barely trying to tickle you. I’m trying to take it easy on you,” Glinda snickers, her glittery nails dancing across Elphaba’s hand. 

“I-It can’t possibly get worse than this.” Elphaba peeks at her through one eye. 

“Don’t speak so soon!” Glinda says cheerfully, squeezing Elphaba’s side with a viciousness that contradicts everything ‘good’ about her. Elphaba crumples into a fit of ringing laughter. 

She wants to crawl out of her skin hearing her own laugh, the shrieky, cackly thing that it is, but every ounce of her self control has fled her. She falls backwards on the bed and Glinda crawls on top of her, tickling with reckless abandon. Elphaba tries to curl up, but she folds right into Glinda’s waiting hands. 

Elphaba throws her head back and snorts twice in a row. Glinda gasps.

“You are adorable.” She whispers gleefully. Elphaba hides behind her hands. Glinda tries to pull them away to no avail. 

“Kill me,” Elphaba groans, muffled. She resists Glinda until pointed nails poke just right into her ribs and she screeches, immediately flailing to defend herself. Glinda catches her wrists easily and pins them down to the bed.

Elphaba lets out a stream of nervous giggles, hearty and tumbling. Glinda flops on top of her with a dramatic wail. Elphaba’s hand finds her back instinctively. 

“What’s happening?” Elphaba hums, confused but not surprised. 

“You’re so cute, you don’t understand.” Glinda pops up in a distressed bounce of curls and ruffles. “I just want to tickle you for the rest of eternity.” 

And tickle she does. Elphaba squirms and giggles, tossing her head back and forth. Glinda coos at her, terrifying in her accuracy. Feeling another snort coming on, Elphaba grabs Glinda’s hands and pulls them away. 

“W-Well, if you keep doing that, you’ll kill me, and you need me for your sorcery tutorial.” Elphaba points at her, eyes wide with a giddy sort of desperation she’s never felt before. Glinda pretends to think hard, but really, she’s smiling. 

“You drive a hard bargain, Miss Thropp. I’ll think about it.” Glinda brushes Elphaba’s hair out of her face. Elphaba deflates in relief. 

Then: a suspicious tickle at her kneecap makes her release that snort she’d been desperate to suffocate. Glinda cackles evilly. 

“W-Wait, Galinda—“

“Oh, you didn’t think I was going to think about it now, did you?” 

[aut1sm-mess]

Hey, Ttte followers! I have an announcement!

I got HEAVILY inspired by @askthefamous8 ‘s wedding ceremony that they had last year!

And I am pretty sure that I announced this at the end of last year but here it is again!

The official date is July 15th 2024!!

It’s very obvious that I’m a Rex and Bert shipper because imo they go well together. So, I’ve been planning a fictional wedding for the two!

I plan on using a very similar format that Sleepyhenry used. But my goal is actually me wanting to get more people familiar with the arlesdale characters and railway. Because, let’s be honest, most people forget that they exist or flat out don’t know about them.

This is the same template photo that sleepy used for their Henry and Gordon wedding! Mine will (like I said) very similar to theirs.

Please don’t hesitate to draw yourself in!!

It makes my day when people interact with my posts! And you don’t even have just draw! You can use picrew, and Gacha as long as it fits into one chair!

I will also make drawings and you will get to see my human designs for the arlesdale sillies!

Again, I want to thank sleepy for giving me permission to use this!

@bluy1206

@be-kind-and-rewind-again

@yamileth2561

@verypsbfan019

@winds-of-roses

@ anyone else who wants to join!

(If y’all let this flop I will cry)

[gin-juice-tonic]

Hey Gin this might be a silly thing to ask, but how did you realize you were trans? Cause ever since I saw your trans Stan and Ford I think I had some sort of relivation, it started with just really enjoying the art you drew to me feeling some sort of envy. Either that I want to dress more masculine or that I actually want to be a man, cause honestly when I look at your trans stans I just feel so much gender envy (jealousy?) And on my last period I had a whole crying fit over it starting, which has never happened before. I just don't know if this is actually what I'm feeling or if it isn't. I've had thoughts of telling my mom and fearing the consequence. This is just all so new and I'm honestly scared. I figured I'd ask you since I look up to you and from what I've seen you are quite wise. I don't really know why I have so much self doubt and constantly flip flop over things. It's frustrating, I just wish I could be certain about something for once. Sorry about this, I'm a mess really.

It’s not silly to ask. My answer is unfortunately a little silly, because I’m a goober. I also typed A LOT so its all going under a read more

So, I was 16 and on tumblr even more than I am now, and I was (still am) friends with a trans woman who reblogged a post that was like “Just trans girl things: eating dark chocolate because it has substances similar to estrogen” and I went “Haha i guess I should stop eating it.” followed by “…why do I feel that way” and THAT was followed by quite the crisis.

Trans men weren’t as well known about back then, so I was like “Well, it means nothing, since only women can be trans”. And then I found out men could be trans too and that pushed my crisis further along. And I started to think. About how I liked when people defaulted to male pronouns for me on the internet, or how when i was a kid I would use a crazy amount of shampoo to make my hair look short and flatten my chest in front of the mirror and look at it. Things like that. And I got upset because “no i can’t be trans that’s impossible”. I would google things like “how do you know if you’re trans”, “quiz to see if you’re trans”, ect.

But the idea of being seen as a man was exciting. It was tantalizingly exciting. And I knew it could be possibility for me someday, and I knew that made a part of me happy and I couldn’t un-know it.

Final straw was a nonbinary person I had been following made a post about how they were going to start taking testosterone. And instead of feeling happy for them I just got mad and started sobbing to myself. Because I was so extremely jealous. So jealousy absolutely has its place in figuring things out.

You should think. Think about attaining the things you’re envious about. Does this make you happy? It’s okay if it’s upsetting or scary at the same time. Change often is. But if it makes you happy, excites you, gives you hope for the future, it’s worth thinking more about.

-

You don’t have to jump into telling your mom right away (and I wouldn’t really recommend it till you’re a little more sure of yourself). You can go at whatever pace you want to. I didn’t tell my mom (or anyone in my real life at all) till I was like, 20. And I’d known for 4 years at that point. You’ve sent me a tumblr message, so I’m assuming you’ve got an account here. I’d say asking your friends on this website to address you as male would be a good way to ease into things. And you can see if you like that or not.

For how you dress, again, you can ease into it. Personally it made me happy to dress in athletic clothing (especially tank tops- to show off my non existent guns), or to dress like a greaser (Though I preferred a black t shirt to a white one), or a golfer. None of those things particularly scream ‘man’ but they were man enough to me. You can find things man enough for you. If you want to try out a binder and think you can get one without anyone noticing, my first ever one was a Tri-top from Underworks. They’re like $30 or so. I was able to get away with buying it because I was a cosplay nerd so I just said it was for that.

If you’re the type of person who owns makeup- you could try to find some time alone just to have an experiment of mimicking drag king makeup, or makeup for cosplayers doing male characters. I did that once early on, and while it looked admittedly goofy, it made me ecstatic at the time.

-

Er sorry for things getting so long. But I just want to say lastly that self doubt is both normal and okay. And thinking far in the future (ie- things like coming out to people or hormones or anything like that) might scare you. But you can take things one step at a time if you want to. Play with just looking at clothes, making outfits on pinterest or whatever, imagining scenarios where people address you as male, thinking of names you might like. See what makes you happy, and expand on the things that do from there.

And regardless of what you discover, in the end you will have learned more about yourself. And that's always a good thing.

[jujutsukatsuki]

The plush leather seat welcomed you as you slipped into your usual spot. A sigh you held between your lips. He was going to show up soon. Your best friend, Eren. You needed to vent to him lately about how work sucked. You ordered both your and his normal coffees.

The bell of the cafe door dinged as the door was pulled open. The sound of the wind outside was quite strong inside the quiet little café. You watched as Eren walked in, hands stuffed into his pockets, hair tied back in a messy bun with strands flopping every which way. You smiled as you remember the day you met Eren.

You were suppose to be on a date, but you got stood up. So crying in a booth seemed more fun. Not really but here you were. Sniffling to yourself when a tall figure loomed over you.

“Hey, you good?” You looked towards the sound. The lighting behind illuminated him to look sort of like an angel.

“I’m okay. Do you want the booth? I’m sorry I’ll move.” You wipe your tears on the sleeve of your jacket and start to get up.

“Nah, it’s all good, can I sit with you?”

You nod before you can really think about the fact you’re crying and sitting with a handsome stranger. You took the time to finally look at him. Brown hair that was pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head, strands of hair hung down framing his face. His grey eyes popped in the café lighting, flecks of blues and greens that you could get lost in. His form normally would intimidate you but something about him comforted you instead.

“I’m Eren. Eren Yeager.” He smiled and gave you a napkin to dry your face.

“Y-Y/N.. Y/N Y/L.” You took the napkin and dabbed at your face.

“Well Y/N, why don’t you tell me why a gorgeous girl like you is crying?”

The way he looked at you made you feel like you were the only girl in the world. You noticed that his lips were slightly chapped. Unsure if that was for the cold weather outside or maybe a bad habit. You continued to analyze his face, His jawline was sharp, like it had been handcrafted by the gods. His appearance could be very intimidating, but it was like he had the aura of a puppy.

Eren sat there, looking at you. He waited for the answer for your tears. He ignored the buzzing phone in his pocket of his friends wondering where he had run off too after the birthday party for Historia.

You started to explain how you were suppose to be on a date with a guy but he stood you up. You told him how you knew it was silly to cry over. Eren countered that he understood and it wasn’t silly. You scoffed internally, like anyone could turn this god like man down.

He couldn’t help but notice the way your hands shook as you talked, how your eyes wandered down to the table. One thing led to another and you were spilling your life story to him.

You told him about your parents and how they fought, how you only saw your father cry once and it was when your mother said she regretted meeting him. You talked about how your dad told you that marriage was a waste of time.

Eren didn’t mind one bit, he loved hearing your voice, you comforted him in a way he didn’t understand.

Somehow you told him stories of your first boyfriend being awful to you, how your second one seemed like the love of your life but he unfortunately died before anything could progress.

He shared stories of his friends, how they were a bunch of misfits all stuck together. Mikasa the goth, Armin the brain. They sounded lovely to you.

So you shared stories of your friends. The ones who meant the world to you but you didn’t mean much to them. The ones who loved you but left so you could grow without them. Eren gently grabbed your hand when you talked about your parents divorcing when you were young. How messy and uncomfortable everything was. You even shared how mean your mom could be when she doesn’t approve.

The touch of his hands on yours was everything, it was like thousands upon thousands of electricity went through your body when you and him touched. Eren became your everything that night. You went as far as to tell him about your thoughts on yourself. That your heart was damaged beyond repair and couldn’t be returned because someone threw the receipt away.

It was like once you opened your mouth. You couldn’t stop. Neither could Eren. He loved talking to you about everything and anything. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he got to have a conversation this meaningful, he opened up about how his father was an asshole who didn’t care about him or his mother. How he cheated on his mom all the time, even had a older brother to prove it. Eren told you about how he saved Mikasa from a home invasion, that she came to live with them after.

Eren opened up about the nights he’s quiet, how he gets lost in his own weeded mind. The nights he forgets about anything that’s appealing about himself. How he feels like he loses his balance and falls into an abyss of thoughts that never seem to stop.

You share with him about the nights you trip over your own feet and stumble on your words. How your mind forces you to apologize over and over for the mess you made even if it wasn’t inherently your fault. Eren gives you a look that calms the screams of anxiety and worry.

You tell him that. That the way he’s looking at you seems to feel like a short cut in her labyrinth mind. A labyrinth you built yourself as a defense mechanism to protect yourself. The smile that shines on Eren’s face as you talk about how you feel like the only girl in the world when he looks at you. A smile that holds zero judgement or malicious intent.

By the time either of you are pulled from the trance of each other, it’s late. You’ve learned about Eren’s issues with his self image, the war he fights in his mind. The issues he has with feeling alone. That he feels like he’s in a wrestling match with himself, he feels like he’s always about to get pinned and wants to tap out but something or someone makes him keep fighting.

The two of you end up at Eren’s apartment. Sitting on the plush couch, you’re wrapped up in each other as you watch a random movie to make fun of together. A fresh layer of snow is coating Shiganshina.

Eren sits down across from you, a smile on his lips.

“What are you thinking about princess?” His voice is gentle as he talks to you.

“The day I met my best friend.”

Eren smiles and grabs your hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“That’s my favorite day babe.” You nod and smile at him, someday you’ll tell him you’re in love with him, but not now.

You can’t lose him.

[afarcryfrommymain]

Far Cry OC Tournament Round 1B: Jason Spero v Jestiny Ellen Rook

Contestant info and voting under the cut!

Jason Spero (@levithestripper)

About: Jason is 28 years old and the newest Junior Deputy. He’s a Hope County native, growing up with Nick and Sharky. He’s known as a big prankster, filling out the trifecta of silly little guys from Bumbfuck Nowhere, Montana Jason’s favorite memory is when after school one day, Nick double dog dared him to microwave a fork. Jason’s hair didn’t lay flat for a week after that.

Does your OC have anything to share?: “Shark said if I win—or at least not lose immediately—he’ll buy me dinner! Which is perfect, ’cause I’m starving!” —Jason

Anything else we should know?: Jason has mostly fluff where his brain should be. He and Sharky share a quarter of a brain cell which they both lost track of a half-mile down the road. Neither he nor Sharky realizes they’re dating until one of them kisses the other good night. Himbo 4 Himbo relationship goals. Jason also likes to call Sharky “Shark”.

Jestiny Ellen Rook (@adelaidedrubman)

About: “the sorriest excuse for a soldier I ever seen.” - description from brother nathan, participant in jestiny’s trials and known gossip. jestiny is a hope county sheriff’s department junior deputy by vocation, clown by nature, fisherman by preferred pastime, dolly parton enthusiast by virtue of good taste, opossum surrogate mother by luck, and — above all else — a cringefail pathetic loser by the grace of god. credit to @starsandskies for the portrait!

Does your OC have anything to share?: jestiny’s presence in the ring is immediately intimidating. she boasts strong, brawny arms and powerful, calloused hands she knows how to use. she also boasts in the literal sense, hurling graphic threats and vicious mockery even before fists begin flying. between the brash attitude and the sturdy, sculpted jawline, it’s also clear she can and has taken a punch in her time. but most terrifying are those wild, fiery eyes with an obvious violent temperament and quick wit behind them. she thinks as fast as she moves. and she moves FAST. she lunges, swift and unyielding. she corners. she squares up. she goes in for the kill. she winds her arm back. she swings towards her opponent with a deadly speed — she misses by a foot, the force causing her to fall face-first onto the floor. it’s thirty seconds in. jestiny is knocked out with a fractured skull. her opponent has not thrown a punch. jessie instantly progresses to the loser’s bracket.

Anything else we should know?: HIIIIIII in case it wasn’t clear i want jestiny to lose all her matches and go to the losers bracket and then lose there first. she is a failure and constantly fumbles the bag when it matters most and my goal and dream is to have her voted Most Pathetic Biggest Flop around. PLEASE PLEASE vote for whoever jestiny is up against to win so she can officially be crowned the ultimate failure.

[capseycartwright]

“it’s awfully dull around here without you” 🥹💖

Buck was trying not to look at his phone - really, he was - but it was hard not to check it every five minutes. He hadn’t heard from Eddie in a few hours (and look - not to self diagnose, but he definitely had separation anxiety from his boyfriend) and he just missed the sound of Eddie’s voice, and the way he texted, and just the emoji’s he chose to add at the end of texts. Buck missed everything about Eddie, really, even that weird, adorable way he snored when he was really tired, and - 

“Hi, baby,” Buck couldn’t help his breathless excitement as he answered the incoming call.

“Hi, love,” Eddie laughed. “You answered quickly.”

“I was waiting for you to call,” Buck blurted. “Which I now realise makes me sound like a sad golden retriever, but…” he trailed off, chewing on the corner of his mouth.

“I already knew you were one of those.”

“Asshole,” Buck huffed, flopping down on his couch. “How is Texas?”

“It’s fine,” Eddie hummed. 

“Fine, as in genuinely fine, or fine, as in I’m about to have a crying fit because my family are driving me insane and I need you to drive to Texas to get me?”

Eddie laughed. “My family are driving me insane,” he conceded. “But in a normal, ‘my family are annoying’ kind of way, so hold off on driving to El Paso.” 

Buck huffed. “I would, if you needed me to.”

“I know,” Eddie reassured. “But you don’t need to. Really. They - well, they’ve been good about it, actually. Mom and Dad took me coming out better than I expected them to.”

“Yeah?”

Buck could almost hear the way Eddie was nodding. “They - I don’t think they fully understand,” Eddie admitted. “But they’re trying to be supportive. That’s more than what I had expected.”

Buck’s chest felt a little lighter, as Eddie spoke. Eddie had been nervous about coming out to his parents, and given Buck’s tendency to soak up other people’s emotions like a sponge, Buck had carried those nerves too. Buck got it, though - Eddie was trying to repair his relationship with his parents, and he was worried that coming out would completely wreck all that progress. Buck was jealous, sometimes, of the ways the Diaz family were working together to try and heal: but he’d had enough conversations with Doctor Copeland to feel settled in his decision to go no-contact with his own parents.

“Buck?”

“Sorry,” Buck twisted onto his side, propping his phone against the stack of books on his nightstand. “I was thinking.”

“About?”

“How proud I am of you,” Buck admitted, smiling to himself as he looked at Eddie’s contact picture. It was a silly photograph he’d taken on a recent hike, Eddie pulling a stupid face, cross-eyed under his sunglasses and sticking his tongue out at Buck. It was a side of Eddie that only Buck - and Christopher - got to see, and Buck treasured every silly, delightful moment he got to spend with his boyfriend.

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbled, bashful. 

“I’m serious!” Buck replied. “You - you’ve been incredible, Eddie. Coming out isn’t easy, and you’re just - doing it. You’re allowing yourself to live this wonderful, free life, and I just - I really admire it. I’m really proud of you.”

Eddie was quiet, for a second. “I love you,” he hummed, the words still feeling like a novelty as Buck let them wash over him. They’d been together for months, now, and Buck’s heart still thundered in his chest whenever Eddie said those perfect three little words. 

“I love you,” Buck breathed - because that, he was realising, was what it was to love Eddie Diaz: it was as easy as breathing. 

“How is life in LA?” 

Buck sighed. “It’s awfully dull around here without you.”

“I’ll be home Friday,” Eddie reassured. “And…” he paused.

“And?”

“Next time I go to Texas, I want you to come with me,” Eddie said. “I want you to meet my family - as my boyfriend.” 

A warm feeling flooded through Buck’s entire body. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie confirmed. “That okay with you?”

Buck was never going to be able to wipe the smile off his face. “That’s okay with me.”

send me a lovers reassurance prompt

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

HIHIHI ARI!!! MY LITTLE SWEET IRIS MY DEAR BELOVED!!!! DID U SLEEP WELL? how is the gojo fluff coming along? are the words working with you? (they better be smh!!!) anyway anyway i am here to thank u for ur words. sleepy sugu swims in my head and everytime he speaks it's just your words that are coming out idk u guys are kind of One in my head i think... YOUR WORDS MEAN THE WORLD TO ME I AM HOLDING THEM IN MY PALM N I AM NUZZLING AGAINST THEM OK!

btw i was thinking whether he'd say please in the end too or not... bc i think he wouldn't wanna come off as too bossy? but then i decided to not put it in bc i think his tone would already indicate that. a very very silent plea....

and hahshshahaha i'm glad u liked the silly little poetry lines too that made me feel so warm WAHHHHHHHHHH okeoke i'm giving u a big hug and a wet fucking smooch on ur forehead MWAHHHH thank u for existing my love<3333333333333 i hope ur day will go sunnily that is not a word but i am making it into one rn the sun will warm u always always always

- @catchuuu

MICKEYYYY MY ANGEL MY LITTLE SUNFLOWER SEED good morning to u too !!!! <333 i slept like a fucking log LMAO i had to drag myself out of bed.. almost fell asleep on my way out …….. i think i had a scary dream but it was fine i snoozed a bunch I HOPE YOUR SLEEP WAS JUST AS SOFT <333

and wahhh thank YOU sm for writing it 🥺🥺🥺 AND FOR THE TAG I ALMOST EXPLODED WHEN I SAW IT IN MY NOTIFS mickey!sugu is such a gift i love him sm :(((( pls kiss his little head for me.

“u guys are kind of One in my head i think” I’M SO HONOURED?????? it’s crazy that u say that too bc i 100% associate soft sleepy satoru with u 😭😭 i’m writing the fic rn and i’m just constantly going… ohhh mickey might like this line….. i wonder if i can make mickey cry if i make toru cute enough………. this part is very mickeycoded…………… PHDJSP u get what i mean. the duo is duoing <3333

AND AND AND!! that’s such a good question tbh….. i agree with u i think that under normal circumstances sugu would say please bc he is in fact a big ol people pleaser smh BUT…. when he’s so sleepy and unguarded i think it would just kinda slip out :((( it’s desperate in a way!! he just needs to feel u. he’d explode if u stopped. :((((

i think that when you get down to it sugu is a bit of a brat tbh.. he’s similar to satoru he just hides it better. but i think he’s such a sweet whiny little clingy brat when he truly trusts u <3333 when you guys have been dating for a while he’s flopping down on you like a big dog and asking so sweetly if u could play with his hair pls 🥺🥺…. if you tease him or decline he starts demanding it though PHDJDBD … “i do so much for this family and you can’t even spare a minute out of your day to appreciate me” IT WAS NEVER THAT SERIOUS SUGU ??? I WAS JUST JOKING ??????? he’s the silliest man alive… (the “family” in question is u + ur three cats btw <33 he’s a cat dad. it’s canon.)