#also if you want to send me questions or prompts or just ever chat in general please feel free its so fun to me!

[simplybakugou]

Story Mode 4 | Mystic Academia: Kaminari Denki's Route

⋆ PAIRING: gamer/streamer!kaminari x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: mentions of hospital and stab wound; fluff ⋆ WORD COUNT: 747

A/N: finished this at 1 am again yup yup. only two more parts left AAHHHHHH

NOTE: credits to @eraserhead-transparents for the kaminari cap

Mystic Academia: Kaminari Denki's Route Masterlist

“Y/N! Are you in here?” Sero questioned, barging into Kaminari’s room, not aware of the moment he had just ruined. Sero paused his movements as he took in the scene before him. Your hand was in Kaminari’s and you were sitting awfully close to his bed. Kaminari was leaning towards you. “Wait, did I just walk in on something?”

“You’re an idiot and I should kill you,” Kaminari said through gritted teeth, absolutely seething at how stupid Sero was. “Now get out.”

“Wait! I wanted to say hi to Y/N!” Sero exclaimed, watching as Kaminari got out of bed and started shoving Sero out of his room. “It’s my first time meeting her!”

“I don’t give a fuck. You’ve pissed me off,” Kaminari responded, successfully getting Sero out of the way.

“Bye Y/N!” Sero managed to squeeze in as he waved to you while getting maneuvered out of the way. 

You waved and laughed at the two, amused by how similar they were in the chat rooms and in person. Kaminari closed the curtain again, turning back and walking towards his bed. He sat at the edge of the bed, facing you.

“I guess the responsible thing to do would be to tell you to get home since it’s late…” Kaminari stated with a twinge of disappointment in his voice. 

“Hmm… I could just stay the night.”

Kaminari perked up after hearing that. He wanted nothing more than to spend more time with you. He had finally met the girl he had fallen for after over a week of non-stop messaging. But he knew your safety came before everything else. 

“You’re really making this hard, you know?” Kaminari said, feigning a glare at you in which you smiled in response. “But the party’s tomorrow. It already sucks that I have to be here tonight and leave tomorrow. We can’t have our event coordinator be late, too.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” You sighed, glancing down to your lap as you fidgeted with your fingers. “But I wanna stay here with you.”

Kaminari felt like his heart had burst at that moment. He reached out and grabbed your hand, prompting you to look up at him. “I want you to stay, too. More than anything.”

He gave your hand a small squeeze. “After what happened I can’t let you stay here knowing that freak is out there. That Unknown dude might take advantage of you being here and come after us while we’re sleeping. And I won’t be able to live with myself if anything ever happened to you, Y/N.”

Your heart nearly skipped a beat at his words, so much so that it surprised you. How did Kaminari go from strangers just over a week ago to someone you wanted to be close to so desperately.

Kaminari continued rambling on about being conflicted about sending you home but also wanting to spend time with you. However you weren’t paying attention to a single word coming out of his mouth, practically staring a hole into his face from your intense gaze as you were lost in your thoughts. 

Only a few days ago you felt overwhelmed by how quickly you were developing feelings for Kaminari. And after finding out the gravity of the situation he and Sero were in, you felt a fear instilled in you as you worried about his well being. You desperately wanted him to be okay as you were fidgeting anxiously in the taxi ride to the hospital.

And here he was, acting as happy-go-lucky as always as he was concerning himself with your safety after quite literally being impaled in the same night. 

“Hey are you even listening?” Kaminari questioned, noticing the blank stare on your face. 

“Just shut up.”

“What?”

“I’m not waiting for us to be interrupted again.” Before Kaminari could question what you were going on about, you pulled your hand from his grasp, reaching forward and grabbing his face in your palms as you pulled him towards you. You locked your lips over his, taking Kaminari aback as his eyes widened. After registering your bold action, Kaminari wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you down onto his lap. 

At that moment, Kaminari didn’t care about anything else. The hacker, the stalker, and even Unknown who had stabbed him only a few hours ago, none of it mattered. He’d take the pain he went through a thousand times over if it meant being with you.

JOIN THE TAGLIST

[whydoeseveryonewanttobangchan]

✌🏻 That was so hot… but don’t you dare do that again… ✌🏻

✎ Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

✎ Genre: Smut

✎ Summary: Channie’s Room is live, but you’re bored in the bedroom. Good thing he’s already looking at his phone.

✎ CW: Established relationship, sexting, nudes, vibrator use, swearing, teensy bit of dirty talk, unprotected sex

✎ Word count: 1,373

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

“Everybody put your hands up, Stray Kids sing it loud loud loud…”

As usual, Fam plays at the beginning of Channie’s Room. The webcam is pointed at an empty chair, and he appears as the song comes to an end.

“안녕하세요!” Chan sings, greeting the fans watching his stream. “Helllloooooo!”

The chat is full of the usual comments and questions:

ur so hot!

what are you working on? excited for the next album 💕

marry me!

when are you coming to Brazil?

But then there’s yours:

check your texts, babe 🎡☄️🛋️🎒

It’s the odd combination of emojis you agreed to use if you wanted him to know that one anonymous fan was actually you.

He’s reading through the comments, humming between replies. The chat moves so quickly, you’re prepared to send your comment multiple times before finally catching his eye. But then his finger stops scrolling and thumbs at the bottom of the screen to close the app. Bingo.

The “delivered” under your photo changes to “read,” and you can see his expression change ever so slightly. He clears his throat and tries to keep his cool, but blood rushes to his head, spreading from his ears to his cheeks to his throat. Practically every inch of visible skin is now a deep pink.

“Uh, Stay are being so nice today, you’re making me blush,” he says kind of convincingly. But you know better.

While he set up for the stream, you freshened up and donned your new lingerie. You considered being sweet and waiting until he came back to the bedroom to surprise him, but honestly, this is way more fun.

You took a bunch of selfies: one angled down, one angled up, one straight on your tits, another right on your ass. Lots of options, but you decided on the full body shot from above — your lower lip pinched between teeth at the top of the screen, fingers pulling at the bra strap in the middle, and your long, smooth legs crossed in front of the tiniest pair of underwear at the bottom.

He’s having trouble focusing on the chat now, and who could blame him? You look amazing, and there’s just a wall and some wiring between your bodies right now. Two dozen steps, and he could be on top of you, inside of you.

Chan readjusts his body in the chair, undoubtedly making more room in his jeans for his stiffening cock. He fidgets uncomfortably and tries his best to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

Whoosh

Off goes the second image — this one focused on your chest. But the straps are pulled down and one hard nipple sits just above the edge of the bra’s cup, pinched between two fingers.

This photo goes unseen for a little longer than the first, and you’ll let him open it in his own time. He’s seemingly back in his groove on camera, reading fan-suggested pickup lines and discussing whether a tomato is actually a vegetable or a fruit. You know he won’t be able to resist forever, though.

And of course, you’re right — you know him too well. A shaky inhale from virtual Chan encourages you to check your phone, and, yep, he saw the second one. The blush is back and this time, it’s accompanied by a tiny smirk and narrowed eyes. He cheekily stares at his phone’s screen for just a second too long, prompting commenters to ask if something’s wrong.

“Oh, naur, all good here!” he reassures. “I’m gonna play some songs for you guys and I’m just picking the first one!”

Ok, liar. Fib your way through this one.

Whoosh

Photo number 3 is simple, but speaks volumes. A long, thick vibrator sits atop your bare thigh. It’s a new toy, and he’ll know that. He’ll also know you’ll use it if he takes too long, and the thought of him sitting there listening to music on a livestream while his girlfriend fucks herself in the next room over will drive him crazy.

🎒🎡 wow i’m so bored……. ☄️🛋️

Another comment to push him to check his texts. You may get some less-than-nice replies from Stay for this one, but that’s fine. This is for him, not them.

…but there’s no reaction. You’re not sure if he didn’t see it or is simply ignoring it, but he’s vibing to Le Sserafim’s Antifragile like he isn’t thinking about your tits. Too bad you don’t give up that easily.

💕 you look so good today, 🛋️🎒 차니 🎡☄️

Still nothing. Fine, you’ll just start without him.

Your slender fingers pull the lacy underwear to the side to check how wet you are. Teasing your boyfriend like this always revs you up, so you’re not shocked to discover that two fingers slide in with more than enough room to spare. Time for photo number 4.

This one crosses the line from suggestive to straight-up filthy. Half of the vibrator is visibly slick from your arousal, and the other half is buried deep inside your cunt.

Whoosh

You were so distracted with your little photoshoot that you didn’t notice he replied two minutes ago.

you’re so bad

The last photo shows up as “read” almost immediately, and you glance at your laptop to see his reaction. He’s slumped into the corner of the chair, nervously giggling at his phone. So much for keeping his cool.

He’s stopped paying attention to the chat almost entirely, but you don’t even know if he’s noticed. You tend to have that effect on him. One more text while you know he’s still looking.

get your ass in here 🫦

He bites his lip just a little too seductively for YouTube, then he’s saying his goodbyes with unmistakable urgency.

“Bye Stay!!! Big hug? Big hug!” he coos, leaning in and closing his arms around the camera.

Even the hug is shorter than usual.

“See you next time, byyeee,” he chirps, throwing up that signature peace sign with a wink before disappearing from view.

Seconds later, he’s at the door with the same eagerness you saw on screen. But this time, you can also see the outline of his huge, hard cock in his jeans, complete with a small wet spot of pre-cum where the tip pushes against the denim.

“Hey, handsome,” you hum. “Need something?”

“You know what I need, you fucking tease.”

He’s on top of you before you can blink, groping at your tits and sucking at your neck.

“That stupid thing is nothing compared to me, and you know that,” he says, pushing the shiny new sex toy off the bed.

He unzips his pants and unsheathes his cock, giving it a few solid pumps before sliding those panties he saw earlier to the side and driving himself inside you.

“Oh fuck,” Chan breathes. “God, fu-”

Your lips engulf his, ending his moaning and mumbling. His mouth is citrusy, and it’s making your tongue tingle.

There’s really no rhyme or reason for any movement or grasp. You’re going at each other just like you did when you were nothing more than horny teenagers exploring something — and someone — new. Fingers and nails drag on skin and rake through hair, and you’re not sure how much longer you can last.

“Channie, I’m gonna…” you moan, breaking the sloppy kiss. “Are you…”

“Yeah, baby,” he pants. “Come.”

Manicured nails dig into his shoulder blades and you finish with force, crying out his name over and over. God, you hope he actually ended the livestream.

Then he’s coming too, emptying his balls deep inside you. His thrusts weaken, but the small movements are still enough to push some liquid down your legs and onto the comforter. Something to worry about later.

He collapses on top of you, lacking the strength and will to even pull out. His deep breaths tickle your neck, and you’re still seeing stars on the ceiling. Warm, wet fingers caress your damp collarbones, then he speaks.

“Baby, that was so hot… but don’t you dare do that again. I will fucking block you.”

“Agreed, and deal. I’ll only do it when you’re live on TikTok.”

He can’t tell if you’re serious, and if he’s bothered by the idea, he doesn’t show it. As he said, it was hot. And he was 100% right.

[ratatoast]

Son coeur est le tien

Alastor x Reader qpr (general headcanons)

a/n: halfway through writing this, i realised that maybe my idea of a qpr might be different than someone else's haha,,, also, this is the very first time I've written for hazbin hotel lol (and should i mention that english isn't my first language? haha)

that being said, i hope y'all enjoy this mess :P

also also if y'all would like me to continue writing Alastor qpr (cuz there's def a shortage on that), feel free to send me prompts :)) i obvi wont write nsfw, but other than that, i think anything is fine (?)

Being in a qpr with the radio demon would include…

Long talks over tea/coffee

There’s never any awkward silence between the two of you. You two could be chatting about the most mundane things, and the conversation would still flow perfectly.

He’d definitely learn exactly how you like your hot beverage.

I personally can’t imagine him being an avid coffee drinker tbh, but I don’t think he’d mind if you are one.

Takes your tea parties very seriously, knows all your favourite pastries, puts on some smooth jazz, brings out the fine china, etc

Loves listening to you talking about your day, your current interests, hobbies, etc. Even if the topic itself isn’t all that interesting to him, he’ll still listen to you.

The both of you love gossiping with each other. Neither of you will admit it to others though.

Petnames

You very rarely hear your given name come out of this man’s mouth.

He never calls you anything that he deems too sickly sweet, usually sticks to dear, sweetheart, or darling.

If he’s having a particularly great day, he might call you love, but that doesn’t happen very often.

Constant praises & words of affirmation

I think words of affirmation is one of his main love languages.

He constantly showers you with praises, telling you how gorgeous you look, how witty your jokes are, etc.

We all know that this man is a charmer, however his compliments to you are more than just empty words… most of the time :p

Do keep in mind that this man is a master manipulator tho, so he isn't above using sweet talk to get what he wants.

Playful banter that keeps you on your toes

He loves a good back and forth, especially if his darling is a particularly witty individual.

The two of you can turn any conversation into a battle of words.

However, if you take it too far, he’s not afraid to put you in your place with a couple of sharp words, aimed to hurt.

But most of the time it’s just good fun :)

Never having to so much as lift a finger

He’s very big on acts of service.

Forget about opening doors or pulling out chairs for yourself.

He takes being a gentleman very seriously, especially when it comes to you.

But not only is he a gentleman, he’s also a powerful overlord.

So if you ever need anything, be that a new pair of shoes, or getting rid of a particularly nasty demon, consider it done.

Being his closest confidant

We all know that Alastor has many acquaintances, however he falls short on meaningful connections.

He doesn’t let people get too close to him, and it is sort of understandable why.

You are one of the only exceptions to that.

You know more about this man than all of hell combined.

It took a while for him to open up to you, and even longer until he started telling you about his past.

He’s the kind to drop hints about himself and let you figure out the rest.

Trust goes a long way with him, I think he’d be more open to sharing his plans and such with someone that he knows won’t question his every move.

Even so, there’s still a lot that you don’t know about him, but you’ll just have to take what you can.

You can dress however you want… as long as it fits his taste

He’s not all too picky about what you wear.

Contrary to popular belief, he wouldn’t expect you to be in full glam 24/7.

If you like more revealing clothes, well, he’ll just have to make sure that anyone that dares to as much as look at you the wrong way is taken care of.

That being said, looking well put together is a must.

You represent him in a way, and he expects you to look the part.

He can’t have you wandering the streets of hell in rags that not even the lowest sinners would wear.

Absolutely no modern technology allowed

Do I even need to explain this?

He’d rather be safe than sorry when it comes to the possibility of Vox messing with you.

You are never truly alone

Alastor would make sure to accompany you on your outings as much as his schedule allows it.

But let’s be real, he’s a very busy man.

He makes sure that a few of his shadows keep an eye on you though, even in his absence.

I don’t think your personal strength matters in this case, as I’ve mentioned before, there’s very little that this man wouldn’t do for you, especially when it comes to your personal safety.

Lets you get closer to him than anyone else

This time, I’m talking about physical closeness.

We all know that he isn’t big on physical touch.

However, I feel like you could get away with a lot more than others.

When the two of you are walking somewhere, it’s not unusual for him to offer you his arm.

When you’re standing next to him, he sometimes rests his hand on your back, although that is often a subconscious thing.

If you’re having a particularly rough day, he isn’t too opposed to letting you hug him.

You can also get away with laying on his lap sometimes, and if he’s feeling exceptionally gracious, he might even pet your hair.

PDA is definitely a big no-no, on one hand he has an image to protect, but I also just don’t think he’d be too comfortable with showing his more vulnerable side in public.

As for kisses… if you haven’t seen each other in a while, he might greet you with a kiss on your hand, but that’s as far as it ever goes.

He’s not a very touchy-feely person, so if that bothers you… good luck finding someone better than the radio demon ;)

me af tbh lmao

anway, thanks for reading pookies mwah (slash platonic lol)

[familyvideostevie]

5k celebration: emma's garden

THIS IS NOW CLOSED. THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO PARTICIPATED! YOU CAN FIND FINISHED FICS AT THE BOTTOM.

thank you so much for being here. i know this blog has changed a lot since i started it about a year and a half ago, but it means so much to me that even one person wants to hang out, let alone this many. writing is deeply personal and sharing my work with you continues to be both cathartic and also a challenge. i will never stop being grateful. none of this happens without you, so, please celebrate with me! : )

navigation, masterlist, guidelines

anyone can join whether you follow me or not!

send as many as you want, but make each ask separate please!

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DO SEND: anything for the characters listed in my guidelines/anyone you want to ask if i'd write/talk about, fun thoughts, questions about me

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so, let's celebrate! send me any of these ⬇️

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you do a little bit of work and i'll do the rest! pick a character from my guidelines, an au theme, and a prompt and i'll write a blurb (<1k words) for you. use this post or come up with your own!

🐝 look at the beautiful bee hive!

send me the title/description of a fic of mine and i'll tell you a little bit about what it was like working on it/a headcanon/behind the scenes moment.

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send this and a little bit about your taste to get a personalized book or song recommendation.

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help spread the love and make a beautiful bouquet for someone else. send me a fic rec/author rec/gush about your favorites here.

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CELEBRATION FICS (coming soon):

roommates!au with steve harrington: trying to not hit anything or each other, when there is a power outage and it’s way too dark | 1.3k

coworkers!au with bradley bradshaw: it's hard to hide your relationship from your coworkers, when your whole team is a tight knit group and basically one big family.

friends with benefits!au with bradley bradshaw: they have been friends long before the benefits came along and they don’t know if they’re ever able to go back to just being friends

[lighthouseshepard]

ahhh been too afraid to pm you but hi from a silent mutual!!

writing prompt: john and yorick chat while arthur sleeps :))

HI HELLO!! im also always too afraid to pm everyone! thank you so much for sending this in and so sorry it took me a while! been a very busy few days (:

"Is he fully asleep, my king?"

John groans in annoyance among the relative darkness he'd been sulking within. Ever since Arthur's eyes shut once he fell into an exhausted, heavy slumber nearly thirty minutes prior, he'd been reluctant to try and exercise what little muscle control he possessed to squint them open again. Manipulating those muscles usually woke him regardless of how careful he was, leaving him with a splitting headache neither of them could explain. And at the moment, John couldn't bring himself to disturb the hard won sleep, as fitful as it was.

Yes, he's asleep, he hisses impatiently. Yorick's voice came from somewhere to their left, still attached by the chain threaded around their waist. Arthur's right arm twitches, fingers scrabbling for some imaginary thing, before falling still.

"Excellent," says the skull. "Our master requires much rest after that entire ordeal."

Our master? John snorts. The subtle stirrings of a cool night's breeze brush against the skin of his left hand, welcome after the wet, stale air of the cave. He's your master, not mine. 

"He is master to both of us!" Yorick exclaims, far too loudly. "Just as you are a king to him and myself. An inseparable pair, the dies irae, intertwined inexorably, dominion over one another and all else."

Jesus fucking Christ, John mutters, wishing he could wince. What does that even mean?

“Exactly as I said. Would you like me to repeat it?”

No, no. Can you quiet down? You're going to wake him.

“Certainly, my king.” His reply drops to a tone only slightly less loud than before. 

 And stop calling me that, he adds irritably. I'm not a king.

"You were once a king," Yorick states matter of fact, jaw clacking solidly as he speaks, a peculiarly troubling imitation of human life. "I do not see the issue with proclaiming this."

Once, he emphasizes. I'm not... I'm not that being any longer. I don't claim to be any kind of ruler anymore.

"Fair enough! What shall I call you if not a ruler, then?" 

John, he grinds out, the last droplet of water among the barren desert of his patience threatening to dissolve. John is fine.

"Alright," Yorick says, sounding pleased. "King John, how may I serve you?"

John heaves a haggard sigh. Unbelievable, he groans, and attempts to turn his attention away for a brief, blissful second to collect what surely remained of his sanity.

The thing that called itself vanguard spoke incessantly. Within the caves, climbing out into rain-damp earth and sky, walking to find shelter for nightfall in the hopes of catching at least a few hours sleep - it had not stopped talking the entire way. John had half a mind to untangle Yorick from Arthur's belt when he wasn't paying attention and throw him as far as his eyes could see. He'd never liked the thought of the vanguard anyway, had never wanted Arthur to take the head, keep the tooth. Something about a creature which existed simultaneously in the Dreamlands, the Dark World and their own reality never sat well with him. 

A hypocritical perspective, possibly, considering. Yet that similarity alone made him nervous, straddling a razor's cautious edge. He knew what he was capable of. Yorick remained a mystery.

They'd found an oak tree, its canopy stretching out far enough to provide cover from the last stray rain clouds rolling by, so long as Arthur kept curled at its trunk. He had fallen under almost immediately. One or two words exchanged between him and that damned skull, and he was out, John's name half formed on his lips in what sounded like the start of a question. It would likely be forgotten upon waking. Already Yorick was taking time meant for him.

Regardless, John knew him to be valuable, an asset they couldn't afford to get rid of. Certainly not now, with nothing to their names except the clothes Arthur wore and the bag he carried, no money, no food. If Yorick could be a wealth of information like he claimed, they'd have to put up with him a while longer. 

And then John could toss him into a lake.

In the stretch of thankful silence, Yorick apparently finally listening to his demands, he reaches over and inspects what remained of the wound. Dried blood coated Arthur's wrinkled shirt close to his heart, stiffening the fabric. Laying his palm flat and hesitantly across his chest, John takes solace in the flighty pulse tangibly felt there. Not too long ago there was none at all.

Arthur murmurs something wordless under his touch. John retracts his hand quickly, mildly guilty at having potentially disturbed him.

“You dislike when he sleeps,” Yorick says. Despite his position by Arthur's hip, rolled sideways where he'd come to rest as they laid down on dry grass, his voice still seemed to come from somewhere else around them. 

John waits a second for more to follow. Nothing comes - it's a statement, not an inquiry.

I don't dislike him sleeping, he huffs. He has to rest, obviously.

“Yet it troubles you regardless? The absence of him.”

I don't, John sputters out, struggling to keep his voice level. I'm not… lonely if that's what you're suggesting. Will you just shut up already? We're both going to wake him up at this rate.

“Our master is blind to the world in multiple senses of the word,” says Yorick. “Deep within a dream. He will not wake for some time.”

How do you know he's dreaming? he asks, perplexed. You can't… see into his mind, or-

“I know a great many things.” Another beat of silence, decorated by the cricket song in the surrounding brush shielding them from view. Again John waits for an explanation, growling agitatedly when none is forthcoming.

Such as? he prompts. What is he dreaming about? 

“I do not know the specifics,” clacks Yorick. “Yet I'm aware of the turmoil of his thoughts. There is a string of piano keys tied like wire around his ankles, a bathtub overflowing, a yellow sun-”

Okay, I get the specifics! John mutters. So a nightmare, clearly.

“Precisely! Excellent conclusion, King John.”

He was starting to immediately regret accidentally adding John to that title. Is there a way we can help him, then?

As if on cue, subconsciously aware he was being discussed, Arthur lets out a low, pained breath of air. Instinctively John’s hand jolts to attention, fingers delicately skimming the wound like he would find answers or assistance there. His legs were twitching, again his arm reaching and then recoiling from something John couldn’t see or understand. 

Nightmares were the only times he felt useful, whenever Arthur slept. Lingering in the corners of his mind, stuck between drifting into his own thoughts and keeping an active listen for anything that might hurt them while he was out - it wore him down in ways be couldn't explain. Yorick was right, even though John would rather revisit the Dark World than admit it. He did hate when Arthur had to sleep for the emptiness it left him with. Being able to wake him from a bad dream as soon as he caught the signs left him aware of a strange, disjointed sense of selfish pleasure. Even if it came at the risk of Arthur’s unhappiness, helping him out of a nightmare was one thing he could do consistently right.

“He will not wake until the nightmare is complete,” Yorick says nonchalantly. “He is too deep.”

Which will take how long?

“I know a great many things,” he says for the second time. “Yet this, I do not.”

Another whimper, softer than the last. John taps the side of his head, tugs at his shirt collar, goes so far as to flick his nose multiple times in a row, as hard as he could manage. Nothing caused him to stir. He could slap him, sure, but in this state he might break apart altogether.

Great. John heaves a sigh. So we just have to listen to this, then? Until he’s, what, done dreaming?

“That is correct. We could always pass the time discussing, my King.”

Discussing what? He snorts. The maggots we just crawled through? No thanks.

“Or,” Yorick adds, “you could always return your hand to his chest.”

What? 

“Your hand,” he repeats, jaw clicking knowingly. “It is the one thing which calms the dreams. I’ve witnessed it many times before.”

You didn’t even have eyes, then, John says sardonically. What could you possibly have witnessed?

“I have no physical eyes now, but I can see you and the master. I was aware then, and in a way, I am aware now.”

In the shrouding blackness of Arthur’s slumber, John imagines the two points of white light where the prince’s eyes once rested staring sideways up at them, awash in tendrils of green smoke. Was this how Arthur felt all the time, kept in the dark, left to wonder how everyone was looking at him? 

Carefully, he puts his hand back in the center of Arthur’s chest. Fingers splay out, one wooden pinky, the rest a thin collection of bruises and scars and broken, chipped nails. That fidgety pulse returns, a bird’s caught wing under his palm. The rhythm remains so for nearly a minute, stuttering and jumping to some melody John couldn’t follow along, and he’s about ready to give it up for nonsensical, stupid advice before he hears Arthur sigh.

It’s not the same troubled exhale as before. This one comes calmer, more even-keeled. As he focuses on his heartbeat he notices it begins to slow, calming bit by bit into a steady, softer pattern. Arthur’s movements drift to a halt. He shifts among the roots, mumbling something too quiet to comprehend, and eventually falls silent.

“He sleeps much like the dead in appearance,” Yorick states thoughtfully. “I believe the dream has come to a close, for now.”

Good, remarks John, at a loss for anything else to say. He wasn’t going to tell Yorick thank you; but it was tempting. The gentle rise and fall of Arthur’s breathing is a placid current, subtler than the new rain beginning to break through the clouds overhead in the night. He could plainly picture him, sprawled out uncomfortably, breeze touseling sweat damp hair, a downward curve in a mouth which always seemed to be frowning lately. Protected just enough beneath the oak, protected enough beneath John’s palm.

Well, at least one of us is content.

“I am much content, King John.”

That makes a total of two. Can you please shut the hell up now? 

“If that is what you wish," the skull says amicably. "Then I will."

It is, John bites. Just thirty minutes of fucking silence. Please.

Yorick says nothing. Relief settles over him as the break distends. Minutes pass until he finally accepts his desire had been properly observed. Crickets sing around them once more.

Sleep well, he whispers, hand firmly over heart. Perhaps we can wait a little longer to get rid of him.

[moodymelanist]

Nessian surprise pregnancy announcement

happy April fools 🩵 also combining this with this prompt ⤵️

After nine long months, Cassian could hardly believe he was seeing his daughter in his wife’s arms. She was the most perfect thing he’d ever seen — second only to Nesta herself, of course — and he didn’t think he’d ever forget the moment he’d first gotten to hold her in his arms. She was so tiny that part of him had been scared he’d somehow hurt her, but he’d stopped worrying about that the moment her small fingers curled around his pointer finger.

Nesta looked completely exhausted in her hospital bed, but she seemed just as in awe as Cassian was. “She’s so beautiful.”

“Are you surprised?” he fired back, looking away from their daughter’s perfect face to look at his wife’s stunning one instead. “I mean, look at the material.”

“Shut up,” she replied with a good-natured roll of her eyes. “She’s all you, anyway.”

Seraphina did look a lot like him, with her dark hair and golden-brown skin, but Cassian had studied Nesta’s features enough to know them when he saw them. “Nah. She definitely has your nose.”

“Whatever you say, baby,” Nesta responded tiredly. She shut her eyes and gently shifted around to find a more comfortable position, sighing as she found the relief she was looking for.

He couldn’t decide where he wanted to look more. Between being in total awe that his wife had brought their daughter into the world and that said daughter was absolutely adorable, it was almost like sensory overload. He decided to look back and forth between them every few minutes, more than happy with the pretty picture his family made.

He never thought he could have this for himself, but damn did it feel good.

“Don’t tell Feyre and Rhys,” Cassian murmured, his fingers gently combing through their daughter’s hair, “but our kid is way cuter.”

“Fuck,” Nesta hissed quietly, not wanting to wake Sera as her own eyes snapped open. “We never told them!”

“Fuck,” Cassian repeated. Sera opened her eyes and immediately narrowed them at him from his volume, and he sheepishly passed the baby over to Nesta before it turned into a full-blown crying episode. “Come here, let me get a picture.”

Nesta had been so nervous about something happening to the baby after the experience Feyre and Rhys had had with Nyx that she’d begged Cassian not to tell anyone. It had been hard keeping such a big secret from their family, especially with how often they liked to get together, but they’d somehow managed to pull it off. The first few months hadn’t been too bad, but once Nesta had started showing, they’d had to come up with increasingly more elaborate reasons for why Nesta couldn’t come to their family get-togethers.

“Say cheese,” Cassian said, holding up his phone for their first picture as a family. Nesta gave the best smile she could muster given how tired she was, propping up Sera’s head so her little face was visible, and Cassian snapped a bunch of pictures. “These are nice.”

He picked the best looking one and sent it in their family group chat, sending all the details about Sera’s weight and height and time of birth. It didn’t take long for people to start texting back, but instead of the congratulations texts he was expecting, he got a wide array of question marks and confused emojis.

Whose baby did you steal for this?? Mor had written.

Ha ha, very funny, Lucien added.

Cute baby, though, Rhys texted, replying to Mor’s original message.

“Why does everyone think I’m joking?” Cassian asked, showing Nesta the texts.

“Probably because it’s April Fool’s, you idiot,” Nesta answered fondly. She took his phone and sent another picture, this time of a close up of her sweaty, exhausted face. “Bet you they won’t think we’re joking now.”

He laughed as he read the caption she’d written with the picture. Trust me, the thirteen hours I spent in labor aren’t a fucking joke.

Sure enough, within the hour their entire family was gathered in the hospital room with a truly ridiculous amount of balloons and baby gifts. Judging from her victorious smile, Cassian knew Nesta would be holding this over him for the rest of their lives.

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard

[moonbcrry]

yes, you've read it right. the bitch is back. she rose from her grave and ready to whisk the dust on her gown. would you guys care to give a hand to the little lady?

<event is closed!! ty everyone who sent requests ill be posting them asap!>

to celebrate the arrival of autumn, and the revival of my desire to write, i decided to make a little event with you guys. where you'll help me write with your fun ideas, give me tropes and such so i can make playlists of them (my newest obsession), and of course, i dearly missed talking to you guys.

>>> i am planning to continue the event through the september but i may close it earlier, depends on the requests and my mood.

>>> are you new here? get to know me !

>>> check out who i write for before requesting

🕷⛧ there will be rain lately i am feeling very much angst, so why not send me your character of choice and the scenario you want or pick a prompt from the following lists (please send the full prompt with in your request) &. 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. , &. 𝐡𝐢𝐭 ‘𝐞𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. , &. 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

✟🖤from my rotting body (+18 ONLY) i am back hornier than ever! send in your filthiest thoughts and i shall make them come alive! or pick a prompt from the following lists (please send the full prompt with in your request)   𝑺𝑶𝑭𝑻 𝑫𝑰𝑹𝑻𝒀 𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑲 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 , consent is sexy ! , 𝑩𝑼𝑰𝑳𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺. 

♡⛓ dream sweet in sea a good old fluff won't hurt anyone! warm me up with your smushiest, fluffiest ideas or you can pick a prompt from the following lists ( please send the full prompt with in your request) “say you won’t let go” , kiss me with your eyes closed , Saying "I love you" without saying "I love you"

♥⸸ melting waltz give me a highly specific trope and a character to make a playlist for!! you might also check out my spotify account for inspo.

⚰.ೃ only lovers left alive i know how much you guys enjoyed my moodboards, so send any moodboard idea you'd like, i'll do my best!

✮𖤍 old letter lets chat!! ask me questions, ask for advice, give me advice, fun facts etc.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

and tagging some of my mutuals to reunite with them because i've been a bad friend and neglected them 😔 i don't even know if you guys are still active, i just hope you are!

@leydileyla , @1985houndsoflove , @velvetcloxds , @psychedelic-ink , @luveline , @ddejavvu , @catholicdaredevil , @siriusblackloml , @inklore , @murdocksluvrr , @sereinegemini , @saintmurd0ck , @vestrangel , @thrashc4n , @thousanddreams , @shysneeze

i'm not even sure about if i should tag you guys or not i hope you won't mind! :/

[mandareeboo]

Unfinished Work #60: "Untitled" (Finished)

I never felt up to publishing this, but I've been rewatching BoJack and felt it'd be good to put here! A little goodbye to an old friend between Hollyhock and Diane.

Title: N/A

Summary: N/A

"Sorry about this," the horse said. "You're probably really busy with writer things."

"You wanna know what I was going to do before coming out on the porch to have a smoke and chat with you?" Diane asked dryly. "I was about ten seconds away from telling my husband I was going out onto the porch to have a smoke. It's not even half the inconvenience you think it is."

"Oh," she responded, and fell silent.

Diane let out a gust of lung cancer in a long, drawn-out sigh. Texas is pretty in postcards but hotter than the sun in person, with the added bonus of all sorts of creepy crawlies straight out of the official nightmare catalogue, but it's kind of nice? There's trees everywhere. Lots of open, bumpy land. The spider currently weaving its web a few feet from her isn't even venomous- it's an orb weaver of some sort. All in all, better than death.

It'd be nicer if her company talked, though.

"Let me guess," Diane prompted, making her jump. "You're Hollyhock, right?"

"Bojack told you about me?" Hollyhock asked, ignoring her question.

"He told all his friends about you. He was really excited to have family he didn't loathe with all his being."

"Oh," she repeated, softer this time.

"Relax, you're not gonna end up on his wiki page or anything. And, for what it's worth, I'm really happy to meet you in person. You're shorter than I thought you'd be."

Hollyhock looked at her hands, where her phone was situated, then back at Diane. "Bojack's told me about you, too. He talked a lot about a lot of things, but you especially."

"And that made you think I had answers?"

She shrugged helplessly.

Diane took another drag. "You want the truth? He's an asshole. Whatever you feel or suspect about him is absolutely vindicated."

"Yeah." she said. "But I miss him anyway. Isn't that... awful?"

"No? I don't think it is. I mean, the part that sucks about people is that they're more than just one thing. Sure, Bojack is a sleezy, emotionally-abusive jerk who's slept with almost every woman he's ever met, but he also sends stupid little text messages about stuff he saw on his drive home, and one time when he got drunk he sang the lollipop song and it was actually the prettiest thing ever, and he helps you pack even though he complains the whole time. He's all that shit."

"He once threw his mom's doll out a window."

"I know. He told me."

"He did?"

"He's always drunk-dialed me. Fifteen years now, and I'm his drunk-dial SOS." Diane considered her cigarette a moment. It was her first one of the day. A new record low. "I never met her, but I spoke to Beatrice twice- for his book."

"Oh, yeah, that thing. I never read it?"

"It sold alright, but it wasn't the next great American novel. Anyway, I called the retirement home to get a statement- got the phone number off of Bojack's long-time manager and friend Princess Carolyn- and called. This was before the dementia really ate up her brain- think, I dunno, almost nine years before you knew her- and she was still pretty sharp. I said, 'hi, this is Diane Nyguyen, I'm ghost-writing a novel about your son, Bojack' and she said, 'what, is he too lazy to write it himself'?"

Hollyhock winced. "Woof."

"Oh, I'm just getting started." Diane flicked some ash away. "We went in circles a bit, but eventually I laid it out for her. 'Mrs. Horseman', I said, 'I'm writing about your son's life, and as such I have called to see if you had any note-worthy stories or quotes you'd like to add'. She was pretty quiet for a minute. Then she said, 'sure, why not, I'm dying anyway. Might as well debase myself even more.' She told me all about her husband, Butterscotch-"

"Bojack never said much about him."

"There wasn't much to say, honestly. Bojack took after him and he always hated himself for it. Beatrice despised her husband for being unfaithful, bitter, and sexist. And she told me, 'now, put this in your little book, girl, and put it word-for-word. Bojack took after him, but he had the sense to be a bit quieter about it; which is a bit like saying the hissing roach is less disturbing to the eyes than the American one because it eats leaves instead of garbage. They're both insects, and they're both a waste of the paper their books were written on'." She paused. "Gotta say, she was damn eloquent."

Hollyhock winced again. "Double woof."

"It's the one story I never put into One Trick Pony. Not because I thought she'd regret saying it, or because it wouldn't fit the tone of the book, but because I knew it'd rip Bojack apart. Even back then, I was putting him above my own job. He has a way of worming into things like that." Diane stamped out the rest of the smoke, then pulled out another one. "I used to smoke like a freight train, but now it's only when I get worked up. Sorry about the second-hand."

Hollyhock was quiet again, but this time it was more pensive than anything else. "I... wrote him a letter. I actually don't even know if he read it, because he kept sending me voicemails telling me he would, but he never told me he did before I changed my number. I thought it'd be over. I thought I was moving on, but..."

"Moving on isn't the same as moving away," Diane said. "Trust me. I've packed houses before. But even now, I still find myself looking for him in the news, or thinking back to the good times we had."

"Mhmm. He tried to learn sports for me, you know? Because he wanted to cheer me on. And that still means a lot to me. But then I remember that interview, and I just... I just can't do it. I can't talk to someone who's done stuff like that."

"That's completely in your right! I know you're a grown-up, but you're still pretty young, you know? Bojack's in his fifties. His problems shouldn't be on anyone, but they especially shouldn't be on you."

"You won't tell him I came, will you? I know you're friends, but..."

"I think your definition of friendship is a bit different from us, kiddo. I mean, we haven't spoken in almost a year now. I just go see his movies, and he sends me long rambling reviews about my books, and we follow each other on social media."

"That feels like friendship," she concurred. "Mrs. Nyguyen?"

"God, don't. Diane."

"Diane. Did you and Bojack….?"

"Nope. But not because he didn't want to. I was dating when we first met, and married a good chunk of the time I lived in L.A. Now I'm married again. If I hadn't been... well, he would've tried, if nothing else."

"And you?"

She pursed her lips. "There was a time where I lived in his house and spent every day getting shitfaced drunk, and nothing skeevy happened. He'd come home, I'd be drunk and when was Bojack not drunk? We'd drink more and we'd watch reruns of Horsin' Around. I liked that. It wasn't healthy, but I liked it. And I liked him. I try not to think too hard about it, but... I dunno, honestly."

Hollyhock pulled her knees to her chest. "I came here hoping to find a way to stop missing him. Now I just miss him even more? I hate emotions."

Diane smiled. It was bittersweet. "Now you sound like a true Horseman."

[spicysix]

event masterlist

can you guys believe it's been a whole year since we've met Eddie Munson?! since I've fallen head over heals for that man? since i've been reading a different ST fanfic every night before bed? since i've flipped this blog Upside Down (heh) and made this little TV show my entire personality?

and since then i've done a lot! i went back into writing fanfics after 5 years of nothing, first of all. and i've met and befriended so many special people, and i've admired so many special fanworks, and we all bonded over some children and their gaggle of babysitters.

and you saw my little blog dedicated to our little blorbos and decided to stay here ♡

so because of all that, i'm kickstarting a double (and my first one ever) celebration! pop one of those below into my inbox and get me working!

・celebration begins May 27 and ends May 31 ・meaning you can send requests until the end date, but i'm a bit slow so it can take me longer than that to answer everything. be patient, please ♡ ・you can send in as many requests as you want, just please send different emojis requests in different asks! ・you don't need to be following me to participate (but if you liked it, consider following anyway? let's be friends!) ・minors and billy stans DNI

🦇 eddie's pet demobat - send me this emoji + a fic or fanwork you'd like to show some love to! make the authors/artists happy and give us readers and enjoyers something to appreciate. you can also rec your own work of course! ♡

🎸 eddie's warlock - send me this emoji + a number from 1 to 11 and i'll post a promotional piece or a snippet from a chapter of my biggest WIP: it feels like i'm going home - a eddie X reader roadtrip fic! the numbers can only be asked once each, so be fast and choose wisely!

📖 robin's russian dictionary - send me this emoji + a word, song, prompt or scenario + a character or ship and i'll write you a ficlet! ↳ here's some prompt lists to give you some ideas if you need! ↳ check out my guidelines to see who i write for ↳ if you want you can specify if you want fem! or gn! reader

🏏 steve's baseball bat - send me this emoji + a character, ship (specify if you want romantic or platonic) or gang and i'll share my favorite headcanons. or, send me the emoji + your favorite headcanons!

📸 jonathan's camera - send me this emoji + an episode (from any season) and i'll share my favorite scene. or, send me the emoji + your favorite scenes and let's talk about them!

🍄 argyle's shrooms - send me this emoji + any question you want, anything you wanna know about me or that you wanna share about yourself! let's chat, play games, and get to know each other ♡

🔫 nancy's (childsafe water)gun - send me this emoji and i'll give you my first impressions of your blog through a moodboard!

thank you so much to everyone that follows me and interacts with me or supports my fics in any way!! i love you all to the moon and back, hope to stay here for a long while to talk about our beloved ones. and here's to many more friends to come! ♡

tagging some mutuals that i adore to help me spread the word (no pressure!): @thornsnvultures @beep-beep-sherlock @sunshine-munson @chaoticgood-munson @pollenallergie @wormdebut @paranoidmunson @districtsof-treason @willowsgrl @steviesnailbat @mvnsoneddie86 @inourtownofhawkins @singledadharrington @pepsimunson @itwasallblue @taintedcigs @chrissymjstan @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @beenabutterandjelly @king-calycanthus @callingmrsbarnes @chaotic--agraphia

[hermannsthumb]

hello! the summer prompt list looks so fun <3 what about pool floats and lemonade.. maybe someone's been coaxed to lounge by the pool... IN the pool.. an unheard of idea. and with a (plastic) cup of lemonade too.. how risky!

26. Pool  + 19. Lemonade

from the summer prompts meme here

it's still sad and vaguely cold here but i am fantasizing about not being sad and cold, so i'm sending the boys to somewhere random and warm and doing some summer fills i didn't get around to last year!

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

When Newt makes his way into his and Hermann’s shared hotel room, he's disappointed—but, tragically, not surprised, like, at all—to find Hermann shrouded in darkness and hunched over his laptop, tapping away wildly into what looks like his PPDC email. Shades and blackout curtains drawn in front of the two big windows, all lights but some tiny desk lamp switched off, Hermann himself bundled up in a sweater and his thick wool slacks like it's not ninety-fucking-degrees outside, all that shit. He's got the air conditioning blasting at least, but it's still enough to make Newt (flourishing happily in a pair of cut-off shorts and a tank top) wince. He sighs instead of greeting Hermann. "Dude," he says. "This is really pathetic."

He flips the overhead light on, half expecting Hermann to turn away and hiss at him like a vampire or something. No hissing, but he does scowl at Newt in a way that's probably even scarier. And also kind of funnier. For all of Hermann's posturing and stuffiness, sometimes he really does just look like a mean, puffed-up cat. "Go away," Hermann says.

"Nah," Newt says.

He tosses a brown paper shopping bag on Hermann's bed.

"It's a bathing suit," he says, before Hermann can poke his way inside. It's a hideous bathing suit, actually, but Newt was limited to the options the gift shop in the lobby offered, so it was either something floral and speedo-adjacent that Hermann wouldn't be caught dead in, or standard(/boring), baggy blue trunks with the hotel logo stamped across the left leg. He's actually kind of regretting not going for the floral ones, if not just to see if he could somehow coax Hermann into them. Hermann's skin above the small pale sliver just exposed by his pants hemline remains a tantalizing mystery to Newt. "I had to kind of guess the size, but I think it should fit okay."

"Bathing suit?" Hermann echoes suspiciously.

"It's nice out," Newt says. "There's a pool, you need a break, so we're going swimming." Newt spotted the pool the second their taxi dropped them off and has been fantasizing about it ever since. It's what got him through every minute of the week-long conference, every bitchy look Hermann tossed his way, every dumb question posed to him in the Q&A sessions. Compensation. Vengeance. They have twenty-four hours of downtime before they have to pack things back up and head back to the Shatterdome (which does technically have a pool, but it's indoors, rarely cleaned, and technically off-limits for anyone who's not a ranger, unless you're like Newt, who sneaks in to go swimming anyway), and Newt's going to enjoy himself.

Hermann pulls the blue trunks out of the bag, examines them skeptically, and drops them to the floor with more disgust than strictly necessary. He uses the end of his cane to push them even further away. Newt bends down with an eyeroll. “Don’t be a dick, man, those cost like, fifty bucks.” Official hotel merch or whatever. Okay, they actually cost closer to thirty-five, but Newt wants to make Hermann feel as guilty as possible. He picks up the trunks and kindly returns them to his ungrateful lab partner. “Look,” he says, “either you hang out with me outside for like, an hour, tops, and I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night, or I’m hanging out with you in here. It’s my room too, bro. Roomies.”

He's thinking movie night, pizza, chatting loudly with (at?) Hermann until he can get the guy to snap and probably attempt to smother Newt with a pillow. There’s a visible flash of dread behind Hermann’s eyes: it satisfies something deep within Newt’s soul. “You’re a despicable waste of space,” Hermann spits, but he slams his laptop shut, and angrily rips the bedspread off from around his body. The cuffs of his baggy wool slacks are rolled around his ankles and Newt catches a glimpse of sock garters. “Fine, you bastard. I’ll go for a swim with you if it makes you happy, and buys me a moment of peace tonight. You’re like—you’re like a bloody toddler sometimes, you know. You’re like—”

“Cool!” Newt says. Hermann gapes at him in wordless fury. “I’ll meet you in the hallway in ten.”

Hermann fidgets and tugs uncomfortably at the waistband of his little swim shorts the whole ride down in the elevator, and, lingering by the poolside, he does the drawstring back up twice while Newt kindly blows up a small, inflatable lounge chair he also bought for him at the gift shop for way too much money Hermann looks wrong like this somehow: out of his element of hunching over computer screens and breathing in chalk dust, swim trunks paired bizarrely with his little brown Oxfords (the only shoes he brought with them), glasses on a chain still bouncing against his chest. The pool is deserted except for them—their own private swim club. Probably because people are understandably kind of wary of bodies of water these days, even ones chlorinated and decently far from the Pacific. “It’s too hot,” Hermann gripes. He shields his eyes with his hand as he glares up at the sun. He smells almost nauseatingly like sunblock. He’s missing a sunhat, Newt thinks. One of those big, dumb, wide-brimmed ones that a movie starlet would wear in 1940-whatever. Or cat-eye sunglasses. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

“You were ruining your posture in there,” Newt says. He hoists the lounge chair over his head easily and tosses it into the pool, where it hits the surface of the water with a satisfying splat. Hermann wrinkles his nose as no more than two droplets of water have the audacity to land on one of his skinny, hairless calves. Newt pats the lounge chair. “In twenty years, you’ll be like, 'man, I’m so glad my best friend in the whole world Newt was there to rescue me from a life of slouching and back pain, I should send him a gift basket.'”

“‘What was the name of that annoying fellow who used to make my every waking moment miserable?’” Hermann says. “‘I’m so thankful that I haven’t seen him in twenty years and will never have to, ever, again.’”

“Get in the pool, you drama queen,” Newt says.

Hermann delicately undoes each button of his crisp white button-down with one hand, and slips it from his shoulders one arm at a time. It’s strangely mesmerizing and even more strangely alluring, like Newt’s in the front row of the world’s stuffiest strip club, though Hermann is still wearing a loose undershirt beneath it. His arms are pasty and tinted a ghostly white with more sunblock. He has nice shoulders, unfortunately. “If you wouldn’t mind,” he says, easing himself out of his shoes, and hands both his shirt and cane to Newt as Newt offers him an arm.

He doesn’t look any less uncomfortable on the floatie once Newt helps him down onto it. More uncomfortable, in fact: one leg straight out in front, the other crooked half-under the water at a weird angle, slouching in worse on himself than he had been in bed as the floatie bobs and drifts with the rippling surface of the water. He squints up at the sun, scowling, and then squints over at Newt, still scowling. His knuckles are clenched tightly around the edges of the float’s pink vinyl. “I feel so relaxed,” he says, bitchily.

“I’m getting you a drink,” Newt says. “Stay right there.”

The small outdoor bar is thankfully open and manned despite the lack of poolgoers other than Newt and Hermann. Newt gets an overpriced cocktail with several skewers of pineapple in it for himself, and a modest spiked lemonade for Hermann, which he makes sure to stick the largest bendy straw he can find in the hopes of making Hermann scoff and roll his eyes. Hermann is still swaying awkwardly on his little pink throne when Newt finally kicks off his sandals and clothing and (flinching very slightly at the sudden chill on his skin) wades in to join him. Hermann greets him with an expression of mild horror. “What on Earth is that?” he says.

“It’s some sort of piña colada, dude, I don’t know,” Newt says. "It's good though."

“Not that,” Hermann says. He looks down pointedly at Newt’s waist. “Where did you find that thing? It’s absolutely hideous.”

Newt couldn’t get the floral speedo-thing for Hermann, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t absolutely get it for himself, even if it maybe, like, fits very badly, and he’ll probably toss it out the second they get back to the Shatterdome. He loves it. He loves it even more now that he knows Hermann hates it, and models it for him happily. “I think it’s funny,” he says, and hands over the lemonade. (Hermann's eyes widen in momentary mild scandal at the prospect of drinking in a public pool—the bar is there for a reason, man!—and then takes it anyway.) “Here, seriously, drink this, relax. We’re not on the clock. You can like, not be miserable for once. Isn’t it nice to not be miserable?”

Hermann looks kinda miserable.

“When’s the last time you went swimming?” Newt tries again.

“In the summer of my twelfth birthday,” Hermann says, solemnly. “We went on holiday to the coast. That was before—” He gestures at his left hip, where his undershirt has bunched up and his trunks have ridden down just enough for Newt to catch a glimpse of puckered scar tissue. “—so I was actually a decently strong swimmer then.”

“See? That sounds—”

“But I nearly drowned, of course, when my brother pushed me off some rocks,” Hermann continues. “He’d meant it as a prank; I suspect he didn’t realize how strong the current was, or how deep the spot beneath the rocks was. It was a bit frightening, really. My sister had to go in after me. We never went on holiday again.”

“Oh,” Newt says. “Okay.”

Hermann gives him a weird, half-smile. “I’m kidding.”

“Oh,” Newt says again, not entirely sure which part Hermann’s kidding about, and whether or not he should laugh. He gives an equally weird chuckle and takes a long sip of his drink to avoid thinking of something else to say as Hermann does the same with his own. Newt’s adjusted enough to the water temperature that it actually feels good now, especially with the hot sun beating down on them overhead. He shuts his eyes and curls his knees up until he’s no longer touching the bottom of the pool, letting his body go loose, relaxed. He feels Hermann reach out and snatch a skewer of fruit from his glass.

“Yours looks much better than mine,” Hermann says through a mouthful of pineapple. “Let’s swap.”

“Bathing suits?” Newt says.

He cracks an eye open enough to watch Hermann make a face at him, but he passes over his fruity drink anyway, accepting the spiked lemonade in its place. Hermann sticks his straw in Newt’s drink and drains it quickly. Between that and Newt’s extremely thoughtful(/expensive) trip to the gift shop for them both, he kind of feels like Hermann’s getting more out of this little adventure than him. Whatever, though, it’s fun seeing Hermann shed some layers. Of the metaphorical emotional sense. It’s fun seeing him shed some physical layers too, but those are strictly unprofessional thoughts for Newt to be entertaining about his stuffy co-worker. He’ll say this though—it’s great finding out Hermann’s limbs exist beyond the constraints of sweatervests and oversized pants. It's even better finding out he's kind of hot, in a bony, gangly sort of way.

Hermann polishes off the remaining few pieces of pineapple and sets the empty glass on the edge of the pool. He grazes one hand across the surface of the water, dipping his arm in up to the elbow, and smiles lazily at Newt. Newt feels a little funny, a little too warm—like maybe his few sips of booze have gone to his head already or he’s been out in the sun too long. Then Hermann flicks water at his face. “Dick,” Newt says, but he grins as (Hermann giving a half-hearted grunt of protest) he uses a dry part of Hermann’s undershirt to wipe off his glasses.

“I could go for another drink,” Hermann says. “If you wouldn't mind, that is, Newton."

"Ugh, fine."

[laura1633]

I’ve always wondered, what kind of ask is your favorite? Do you prefer prompts or questions about your works already on Ao3 ? Either way, thanks a lot for always answering!

Ask me anything and I will answer honestly game

This is a really interest one anon, thanks for the ask <3

Honestly getting any sort of ask is fun and I always get excited to see what an ask says so I'm not sure I have a preference as such.

If anyone ever sends an ask about a fic I have written on ao3 and has a question about it or wants to chat about it then that is absolutely amazing and I will always get a huge smile on my face. The writing process is fun but knowing there are people out there who have read what I have written and enjoyed it and want to discuss it any way is just the best feeling. I am always more than happy to answer asks about my fics no matter how old they are.

The prompts in terms of people giving their headcanons and fic ideas are always super fun to share with everyone. They are also hilarious or adorable or really hot. It's like getting mini little Lestappen fics to my inbox which is a nice way to brighten up the day.

[munsonsreputation]

200 CELEBRATION!!! 💐✨💌💫

Hi everyone it's Kay!!

I just reached over 200 followers on my blog and WOW WOW WOW!!!!! Thank you guys so much for showing me appreciation, kindness, and love...I'm wishing each and every single one of you all a wonderful new year full of happiness and growth 🤓🌱❤️

To celebrate this surreal accomplishment I've decided to open up my asks (though they are ALWAYS open) so that we can get a little more interactive and you all can get to know me better <3 I'm not too familiar with these kinds of things so please excuse me if some of these don't make any sense. Below I've listed different requests/prompts that you all can slide into my asks with and I will be doing my best to reply to all of them and feel free to send in as many as you'd like and ask any other questions that aren't on this list as well!! You can also send them in as anon or not, which ever you are comfortable with 😊

Request #1: Stranger Things x Taylor Swift ｡･ﾟﾟ･ send me any stranger things character and I will tell you what taylor swift song(s) I associate them with 🎶👤

Request #2: Rant ｡･ﾟﾟ･ need to get something off your chest and desk? take this opportunity to rant about anything and you can either ask for advice or simply words of encouragement. sometimes we just want to be heard and do not need unsolicited advice so please let me know if you want either or both!! 🔊🤗

Request #3: Chit Chat ｡･ﾟﾟ･ ask me some random questions, I literally do not care how many you ask me hahaha I will try to answer all the ones I feel the most comfortable asking! Ex: coffee order, favorite dilf, current playlist, ect. 📩☕️

Request #4: What's To Come ｡･ﾟﾟ･ send this in if you want a random sentence from one of my wips with no context 💻🤓

Request #5: Blurb x Stranger Things ｡･ﾟﾟ･ send me brief prompt or saying (angst, fluff, or smut) and I'll write a short blurb for a Stranger Things character you pick out of Eddie, Steve, Robin, or Nancy📝📺

I'm so excited to interact with you all and I can't wait!!! Last, I want to thank each and every single one of you guys who has liked, reblogged, and left comments/tags on my stories. It truly means the world to me and you guys put a smile on my face everyday...so thank you so so so much 😭💘🌎

Mutuals are tagged below, but please don't feel pressured to participate, however your reblog to spread the word would mean a lot if you are able to!! thank you all 🌟💘 : @tvserie-s-world @esme-viridian @translatemunson @ur-local-geek-fest @maddipoof @mediocre-daydreams @hopelessromantic87 @mapleransom-blog @zariaskz @deliriousleyserious @rvdsxmz @hstoria @tasmbestspdrman @moonxxlight @sillypurplemurple @munsonswhore86 @john-joong @str4ngerthingshavehappenedhere @chervbs @sodapop182 @wordsbymae @eddieandbird

[tonguetiedraven]

Seeing that adult bonrin fanart sent me feral, can you possibly write something where Rin and Suguro grew apart a little after highschool, like they got busy with their own careers or something like that, and when they finally meet again after a while bc they collab on an exorcism or smth Rin just starts hitting on Suguro HARD.

The fantastic @marble-wolf helped me write this one <3 It's a little long, so only part of its going here but you can check the link at the bottom for the full story! We tweaked the prompts some but I hope it fits any way :)

(Also, you can check out my for here I am standing here loving you for more aged up bonrin stories)

— — — — — —

The mission report was handed to Ryuuji by Lightning, and the Arch Knight didn’t even pause to act like there was anything unusual in it, so when Ryuuji opened it up to peer at his newest assignment, he got a double shock.

The first was that he was leading a team on resealing Ix Chel, a goddess, so that she didn’t go on a bloody and destructive rampage.

He hadn’t led a mission against such a powerful demon before. And shouldn’t Osceola be handing this mission out? Why had Lightning—

Flipping the page to the list of his team members answered the question of why Lightning. The head of his defense was the one and only Rin Okumura.

Ryuuji stared at the picture for a moment, snickering a little at the wide-eyed shit! You’re snapping the picture now?! Sort of expression on Rin’s face, and felt a swell of emotions that were a tangle of too many things to possibly name.

Working with Rin Okumura on an actual mission. Not a text or a call or a group chat or an email or a note left in an office when they’d missed each other (again.) Not a picture from his ma saying “we missed you!” because everyone always went to her ryokan for their vacations and so she got to physically see his friends more often than he did.

An actual mission where they could catch a meal together and talk and do one of those back breaking hugs Rin always gave, and stay up way too late and get into a competition they absolutely shouldn’t because they were adults now, and just see each other.

Nirvana, he missed Rin. They talked but it wasn’t like school had been. They couldn’t just take a short jog across campus and crash in the other’s dorm and spend hours talking about everything and nothing or just sitting in silence together. Just being together, uncomplicated and right and peaceful and fun and hard and too many things to possibly ever describe, all of them vital and all of them something he’d wanted back and could only hope to find a way to get back someday. (He was so close to being able to settle down at Joukhai-ji and lead the Myodha from there. So close to having the resources they needed and being done with this endless travel and someplace different to spend every night.)

But he’d get to see Rin in a handful of days. They’d fight a goddess together. (Maybe finally get the promotion to Arch Knight. He had to beat Rin to that one. It was the final challenge before he tapped out. He had no interest in Paladin.)

He finished the report, buzzing a little with excitement and got up from his desk, snatching his phone up to type on his way to the library to start on his research for sealing the demon goddess. 

He typed the message up as he walked, sending it to Rin with a toothy smile he didn’t notice.

[Ryuuji: Get your new assignment yet?]

[Rin: Not yet 👀 why?]  

Ryuuji just smiled.

— — — — —

Rin stepped over the threshold into hot and humid misery which wasn't a surprise because even he knew that Cozumel was going to be hot. But that didn't stop it from being utter misery. 

The sky was cloudless, the air hot and the floor under his feet rolled gently with the gentle sound of ocean waves splashing against the sides. The yacht was obviously Mephisto's, with a pink floor and everything was sparkly and shiny which was painful to look at with the heaviness of the sun. The yacht pitched slightly, making a soft bumping noise and a rumble and Rin abruptly flinched at the realization that the yacht was most definitely alive and a demon. 

Rin squeaked an apology and ran off the yacht as quickly as he could, sighing in relief as his feet landed with a thump against the wooden bridge. The demon yacht had a figurehead of a rather Mephisto-like statue that nodded his way and tipped a solid gold hat before beginning to move. 

Rin caught a glimpse of horribly long fangs sticking out of the water and sharp fins on the sides and forced himself to look away. No. He learned long ago to not question Mephisto and his entourage of demons. 

Rin didn't let the weather or his weird arrival get him down though, because he was going on a mission with Ryuuji Suguro for the first time since they graduated and that knowledge made it easy to push past all that and start off down the bridge, searching hopefully for a familiar face. 

When he had been given the mission, he had been skeptical at first. They somehow hadn't gotten a mission together since they graduated and he had wondered "why now" but then he decided he didn't care about that and he was excited to see the Aria after years apart. 

And just thinking about the man made his cheeks go red, but he could play it off as the heat. And even without that, the heat was way too much anyway and he paused, setting his duffle bag down with a thud and scrambled to remove his coat. (Why did no one tell him to change? At least Yukio who has seen him off, should have said something.) 

The heavy black wool coat was off, leaving behind just a sleeveless shirt that he wanted to shed as well and he made up for the lack of uniform by keeping the True Cross emblem on his necklace with his keys. (He should have found something like what Osceola wears.)

Rin moved to continue his quest to find Suguro and made it another couple feet (why was the bridge so long?), his thought on Suguro and seeing him again but then he was seeing the shine of the sun on the water. He rarely got a mission on an island like this and he wanted to see if the water was nice. 

(Nice enough to maybe swim in with Suguro but he wouldn't admit that outloud.)  

It took Ryuuji all of a second to spot Rin. The halfling had never blended in when they were younger, and he still wasn’t blending in now. 

He’d gotten a bit taller since Ryuuji had last seen him. Broader too. Handsome as always, but he’d grown into the wild looks. He was in the standard True Cross Unifor, and either no one had bothered to tell him there was a hot weather version, or he’d forgotten to bring it. The boy was already covered in sweat, flushed from heat, and hanging over the edge of the bridge like he wanted to flop into the water. 

(Ryuuji had no doubts he did. Rin was always the first into the ocean.) 

“Oi, Rin!” Ryuuji called, drawing Rin’s attention before tossing a bottle of sunscreen at him. “Put that on. We gotta get you changed into the other uniform before you pass out. It’s hot and bright here.” Not that the bright would bother them too much. They were here for a moon goddess after all.

His own shirt was long sleeved to help fight the sun (and bugs), loose, fast drying, light enough that he barely felt it, and with a few vents he’d already opened up. He had a hat to block some of the sun, but he’d also left his hair loose to block some of his neck. The cargo style pants had enough pockets to make up for the lost coat. 

His sunglasses didn’t do anything to block the first real sight of Rin, and it had his heart squeezing. It really was Rin. A couple of years hadn’t changed those eyes, and Ryuuji would know them anywhere.

The water was every bit as cool as Rin had hoped and it felt great but then Rin's name was being called and then he couldn't breathe. Suguro was talking to him, tossing something at him that bounced off Rin's hip and landed at his crouched feet and Rin couldn't hear a word he said, just heard the low familiar voice that had somehow gotten deeper as he blatantly stared. 

His eyes looked Suguro up and down, appreciating the proper clothes he wore and the fact that the shirt was blowing in the soft breeze and showing off Suguro's muscled arms. Suguro's eyes were hidden by the sunglasses and his hair, partially hidden by his hat, was a longer version of his high school undercut that Rin immediately wanted to touch. 

Suguro had gotten taller and he was standing more confidently, as if he had settled into his role and enjoyed it. 

"Suguro!" Rin cried, scrambling to stand and he bounded forward to tackle his old friend in a squeezing hug, lifting him off the ground a little with Rin's delight.  

“Woah!” Ryuuji yelped, and then broke into a laugh as his arms wrapped around Rin. Still just as much of a monkey as he had always been.  (And just as dizzyingly strong.)

He hugged him back, not caring that he was already a sweaty mess (it was hot as hell here and everything was a sweaty mess) and just stayed there for a moment, registering some of the differences and feeling like he was stepping back into a dusty old dorm as Rin’s scent of campfire smoke and something a little spicy filled his lungs. It had him holding tighter for just a moment, and then swallowing a bit too thickly and letting Rin go, settling back on his feet and giving Rin’s arm a light punch.

“Didn’t anyone tell ya it was gonna be hot? You’re dressed like this is another arctic mission.”

"I didn't think it was gonna be this hot! But Yukio watched me leave, so it's his fault." Rin returned the punch and leaned back to look Suguro up and down. 

"You're looking great!" Rin exclaimed, moving to pick up his duffle bag, discarded coat and sunscreen. "Mature. Hot."  

“Probably not as bad as you,” Ryuuji said, moving to help with the luggage. “I actually realized we were going to a sub tropical place and planned.” He gave his head a fond shake. “Was that all you brought? I got some spare stuff you can wear, but it’s gonna be baggy on you. Even if you have grown.”

He paused, tilting his head and taking in the difference. He didn’t have to look down quite so much. “When did you get taller?”

Rin gasped and jabbed Suguro with his finger. "I did know! I just didn't expect it to be so tropically."

He stood straighter, beaming. "I don't know when it happened but I think I'd look great in your clothes." (He had brought other clothes. Just not exorcist clothes.)  

“Probably feel great too.” Ryuuji motioned towards the other side of the dock. “The hotel we got is over there. The air condition isn’t great ‘cause True Cross is still cheap as hell, but it’s better than that shithole dorm was.” 

Didn’t expect it to be so tropically. Rin was an utter nut and Ryuuji was so happy to see him. 

“Did you actually read the report?” He asked, lifting one of the supply bags and leading the way, tempted to snag one of the handles of Rin’s duffle bag to keep him from getting distracted and wandering away. “Know what we’re doing here?”

(Aside from hopefully catching up with more than typed messages.)

"Yuck, so a shit hotel and hot as hell." Rin grumbled before answering Suguro's question. 

"We're here for the Itchy god demon." Rin told Suguro. He had read the report but only understood a part of it. 

"Oh! Look at the bird! It's green!" Rin gasped and turned completely around to watch the bird fly.  

Ryuuji gave into his earlier urge and snagged one of the handles on Rin’s bag. He’d lose him otherwise. Then he let his gaze follow Rin’s to see what had caught his attention. 

“Parrot,” he supplied, grinning himself. It was a beautiful bird.  He’d never seen one outside of a cage. 

(A benefit of hanging with Rin that he used to see as an annoyance. Rin always saw and got distracted by the things Ryuuji didn’t see.)

Satisfied with that answer, Rin turned back to get to the hotel. If nothing else, he hoped it had cold water. 

"But yeah! We're going to hang out and then we're going to catch Itchy and…" he paused and looked over at his old friend. "Seal? Exorcize?" 

Rin was enjoying how they had fallen into their old roles but it was different now. Easier and something was softer, and Rin was sure it was from the years they had spent apart. (And Rin needed to not fall victim to the urge to flirt continuously. His earlier efforts had been… Well, Bon seemed oblivious to them.)  

“Seal. There isn’t a known exorcism method and she’s a lot to try and kill. We’re gonna try and put her back to sleep. Apparently it was last done around five hundred years ago.” He gave Rin a teasing grin. “Which you would know if you had read the report.” 

Looking back ahead, he led Rin towards the beach path to their motel. It was away from the bigger tourist spot, which was probably just as well. 

Confident Rin had his footing, he let himself give Rin a poke. “You’re still skipping out on homework.” 

"I read it! Skimmed but I still read it!" Rin corrected, swatting away Suguro's hand and his fingers brushed the prayer beads on Suguro's wrist. 

"Some things never change! That means you will be writing the reports." Rin said. 

Ryuuji looked ahead, feeling his cheeks go a little warm at Rin’s fingers on his wrist. (Stupid reaction to have over what could barely even be called a brush.)

“Guess that means your chicken scratch hasn’t changed either?” 

Rin was getting sweatier by the second. Ryuuji was actually starting to worry about that. Rin really wasn’t equipped for this kind of weather.

Ryuuji pulled his sun hat off and plopped it down on Rin’s head. The wide brim blocked some of the sun from hitting his shoulders as well as shading his face and neck. It also was too big for his head and sank down a little, drawing another laugh from Ryuuji. 

Rin looked up at Suguro with a grin, making the hat sit crooked. "Thanks Suguro! This will help! I was tempted to just start taking stuff off." 

It was so gross under his shirt and he hated the sticky humidity. 

"My writing has gotten better!" Rin told him before humming as he thought over the mission. "Five hundred years… so we're going to kick her ass and make her take a longer nap!"  

“She’s a goddess of destruction. We’re gonna try and keep her asleep and get everything done before she wakes up properly.” 

Ryuuji started up the steps to their hotel and pulled the door open. A weak puff of cooler air washed over them as he did, and he motioned for Rin to go inside, closing the door behind them and waving off the desk staff because he already had Rin’s key. 

“We don’t know what all she controls on this island. The exorcists from five hundred years didn’t really take good notes. We know she’s powerful and that they felt the effects of whatever she was doing on the mainland.” 

The elevator wasn’t working, so it was the stairs. “We’re on the third floor, by the way.”

Rin nodded and walked towards the stairs, already mourning his cool apartment. "On the bright side, the exorcists in the future will have your notes and you do take good notes!" 

Rin took off the hat and put it back on Suguro's head, following it up with a bump of his tail against Suguro's side. 

"And I would complain about this hotel to Mephisto but then he'd put us somewhere worse next time!"  

“A tent.” Ryuuji decided, and found himself falling into memories again. He hadn’t gotten bumped or tickled or poked or whacked by Rin’s tail in years. It was weird how much he immediately adjusted his weight to anticipate the sway from the poke. 

Honestly, they’d probably end up in a tent before the end. Ryuuji had a twelve hour aria he was going to have to perform with only a few drinking breaks. He might not have a voice at the end of this.

“This is you.” Ryuuji stuck the key in the door and unlocked it, shoving the door open and sweeping his arm in a ‘tada’ motion. 

It wasn’t anything to write home about, but it was much cleaner than Ryuuji had anticipated. 

He motioned to the room across from Rin’s. “I’m there, and I will be getting you up in the morning.” 

"Awe, you didn't get us one room?! No sleepovers?" Rin teased. "I wouldn't mind sleeping with you." 

The words were out before he had time to think them over (never did anyway) and it made him bark a laugh.  

“Yeah?” Ryuuji asked, dropping one of the bags on the bed. “‘Cause I get up at four-thirty now.” He gave Rin a wink, trying not to think of sharing a room with Rin. (A bed with Rin. Rin who knew Ryuuji’s preferences on that sort of thing. One of the few people who did.)

“A.M.” He added, just so it was clear. High school Rin had slept in until noon when he could get away with it, and Ryuuji rarely got a text before ten in whatever time zone Rin was in at the time. He was pretty sure Rin would try and burn him if he got up and did things at four-thirty in the morning and woke Rin up.

Rin scrunched his nose and rolled his eyes. He leaned against the doorframe, dropping his duffel bag in the room with a careless toss. "Why would you do that? Shouldn't you be sleeping later with this mission anyway? All that moon stuff? Princesses need their beauty sleep. Not that you need it."  

Ryuuji shrugged. “I like mornings.” 

And what did Rin mean by that? That he didn’t need the sleep? Was he saying that it wouldn’t help or that he didn’t need it? 

He was blushing a little more. “Hang on a sec and I’ll get ya some stuff to change into that won’t make you melt.” He set the key down on Rin’s dresser and moved to his own room, opening it up and going to his suitcase, pulling out one of the spare uniforms, an extra hat, a spray bottle, and some bug spray. He came back to the room and set it all on Rin’s bed.

“They’ve got a ‘conference’ room downstairs we’re gonna meet in. It’s not a conference room, but it’ll work?” He paused, not quite wanting to leave, but not wanting to overstay his welcome. “Still like strawberry tea?”

Rin sighed in relief at the lighter uniform and immediately began shedding his thicker one. "Yeah, still like to drown yourself in green tea?" 

He tossed his clothes on top of his duffle bag and delayed putting on the other uniform, not wanting anything on when it was so goddamn hot.  

Ryuuji tried not to look, but there was a lot to look at. And he had always found Rin attractive as hell and time had been kind to him. It wasn’t quite fair that he’d filled out in all the right places and —

“Is that a tattoo?”

When had Rin gotten that?

Rin gave a gasp and whipped around to fully face Suguro. 

"Oh yeah! I haven't gotten to show you!" Rin trotted over, and showed off the reddish orange tiger on his chest. It stretched down to just below his belly button, the twin tails curled and the back angle of the tiger showed off the intricate design of the stripes. The tiger's face was turned to the side, a fierce snarl on it's face and it's eyes a vibrant shade of blue. 

"Pretty cool, huh?" Rin proudly asked.  

Ryuuji stared (and tried to do so respectfully) and was fairly certain he was nodding. It was a fantastically done piece of ink, and the details were intricate and the double tails were an obvious nod to Kuro (and the tiger itself had him remembering too many things and Nirvana, he was going to just be stuck in memories this entire week.)

His hand had moved when he wasn’t paying attention to it to hover over the eyes. “Cool,” he agreed, “Same color eyes as yours,” he said, and dropped his hands back to hang against his side. 

Meeting Rin’s eyes, he gave him a smile. “That’s a summoning tattoo? That where Kurikara is?” He’d noticed the bag missing, and if it was, that was a relief. Ryuuji had stressed about that sword. Rin always seemed a fraction of a second from losing it from that old bag.)

"Yeah! I should've gotten it in school. It's handy!" Rin said, tracing a hand down the tiger's back before he beckoned to the bed. "Wanna sit down? It's been way too long."  

Ryuuji was too old to be blushing like this.

“Sure,” Ryuuji said, still staring at Rin’s very bare chest before lifting his eyes towards the boring ceiling. He was not going to stare. He was not. 

Sitting down on the bed, he took the hat off, setting his glasses and the spare key down in it and turning a little to face Rin. (And it had to be an attention drawing bright orange reddish tiger.)

Rin got the pants on, tugging them up and laughing a little at the looser waistband. He looked over at Suguro as the hat came off and he grinned, reaching over to satisfy his curiosity and flicked the longer and wavy, nearly curly hair. It was as soft as it looked, a little frizzy from the humidity and the hat. 

"I like your hair! You look so cool!"  

Ryuuji grinned, feeling a bit embarrassed about his hat hair, but mostly trying not to stare at Rin’s chest and shoulders that were now way too close.

“Gotta keep up with you—” And he cut himself off before the tiger could escape him. That was probably too much. 

“Besides, it’s easier to manage. Kinda curling like my ma’s.” He brushed some out of his eyes and shifted on the slightly lumpy bed. “Probably gonna regret the length here.” 

Pushing that aside, he fixed his gaze on Rin’s face, taking in the freckles and frowning at something else. 

“Hey,” he brushed his fingers over a scar on Rin’s cheek. “When’d ya get this?” And why hadn’t he been told? He’d told Rin about his new scars. (Not that he had a lot. Just a few close calls he didn’t want Rin hearing about from any of the other people they knew.)

Rin's hand lifted to cover Suguro's fingers and the scar. He could see the concern on his face and Rin tilted his face so Suguro could peer at the scar if he wanted to. He could feel a flicker of shyness at the soft tone Suguro was using and the gentle touch.

"'Bout a year ago. Just a fast demon, was all. Nothing bad." Rin comforted, and his hand was still covering Suguro's fingers but he didn't want to move yet. "I missed having my favorite mother rooster to fix 'em up though."  

“It’d be a mother hen,” Ryuuji corrected, even though he’d been a rooster since he’d met Rin. He couldn’t decide if he believed that it was just a fast demon or not. Whoever had tended to it hadn’t done a good job if it had been. It frustrated him that he hadn’t gotten the chance to help. It wouldn’t have scarred.

He brushed his thumb over the spot again, met Rin’s eyes, realized that was a bit of a mistake with how close Rin was, and let his hand fall.

He smiled, and tried to ignore how it didn’t quite feel right. It was a little too soft. “I’ll make sure you don’t get any here.”

But it wasn’t going to be that long of a mission. A week and then Rin would be running off somewhere else and getting hits and doctors would be doing shitty jobs on him. (And he was willing to be Yukio chewed whoever did that shitty job out.)

Rin lifted his hand to brush back Suguro's hair, humming, "rooster." 

"And I'll make sure you don't get any either!" Rin returned, "I'll keep ya safe!" 

Satisfied, he turned back to throw the rest of the uniform on with a groan. "I'd rather go in my underwear everywhere. Still hot." 

But not deadly hot like the goddamn coat. 

"Know what? I bet I know why Yukio didn't correct me." Rin realized abruptly. He snapped his fingers and felt the urge to go bitch at his brother. "I… may have picked up a demon on my last mission. And I asked him to take care of her while I'm gone. She's just a Kotobuki! Harmless!"  

“Harmless?” Ryuuji cackled. “You’re lucky he didn’t threaten to shoot you. Tell me it’s at your place.”

Apparently Rin picking up strays was never going to change. 

“And keep that on. The uv rays here will get ya and I don’t know if your regenerative stuff will help against that kind of damage. If you go around with out anything, you’ll need to be putting sunscreen on every five minutes.” 

"She is at my place but she gets lonely and Kuro doesn't like her much. She's… different." 

That was putting it lightly. Rin flapped his shirt, scrunching his nose at Suguro. "This is going to suck, isn't it?" Then he continued before Suguro could answer. "But I mean… we could go swimming."  

“It’s the year of the rabbit. Kuro probably knows she’s going to get wild.” 

Ryuuji reached up and started to pull his hair back into a pony tail, stretching his arms a little as he gathered most of it up. There were a few strands that fell around to frame his face no matter what he did. 

“Yeah, it’s gonna suck, but most of the real work should be at night. She’s a moon goddess after all.” His nose wrinkled. “A bit of a weird one. Destruction, death, weaving, childbirth,” then with a blush because he was still on Rin’s bed, “physical love.” He shrugged. “No telling how she’ll respond if she wakes up.”

It was a lot of responsibility for his first entirely solo leading experience. This was a far cry from his usual job of following Lightning and cleaning up whatever messes were made.

Rin paused in his clothes fussing (it was quite large on him but he liked it… it smelled like Suguro. Suguro was talking about a god with physical love in their domain. That could be a problem.) "Oh. But aren't these— what is she, Mayan?— gods all complicated like that?" 

Any demon that was considered a god was a lot harder than the typical demon. (Rin did not let himself slip into the past as a certain demon declared himself god.) 

"Destruction, death, fucking, birth and… while she does all that she weaves?" Rin laughed a little, unable to come up with a better response.  

“Yep. Or fucks with weavers—not in that way. Maybe she gets frustrated with it and goes off on a rampage.”

Ryuuji exhaled tiredly. “Ready for the debrief? We’ll have a couple of hours free after that, if you want to, uh, get dinner.” 

Rin groaned and threw himself on the bed next to Suguro before sitting up with a grumble. "Lumpy bed… yeah, I guess we can get that over with." 

"Then, we can absolutely get dinner."  

Find the rest of the fic here! (Rated T)

[sinsandsweetness]

rules for this page:

No minors please. I cannot control what you you might read but please do not interact if you are under the age of 18. This page is basically straight up porn and very much adult content. Underage/ageless blogs are at risk of being blocked!!!

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Anons are welcome! I again ask that you’re over 18!!! Feel free to send in prompts, requests, comments on fics or anything rlly! I love to hear random, general thoughts as well. Interact with me! It makes my day<3 I basically just love to talk and am chronically bored :)

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as for my writing/requests/prompts:

I will write for Rick, Daryl, Shane, Rosita (sometimes Merle and Negan) Dean Winchester, and Frank Castle <3

I only write x reader. I mostly gravitate towards fem!reader but I will gladly write gender neutral or afab with no use of pronouns. I try and mix it up and keep as many works as neutral as possible. If nothing is specified in a prompt, I will typically write it as fem!reader. And If we’re mutuals and I already know your pronouns, I’ll go based off those for your requests:)

For requests, a specific situation/plot line is easiest for me to work with. General requests (like Rick x hyperfeminine!Reader) are usually not specific enough for me to come up with something. Prompts with a plot line or situation (like reader finds a cat and brings it home to Rick and Daryl) are so much easier to work with and will often come out much quicker <3

As far as requests go, I may not write every one. Some, I am just simply not into and wouldn’t want to write, some I can’t seem to come up with a situation for/are awaiting a spark of inspo, and others are too similar to something I’ve read or done (in that case I will lead you towards those fics)

Please note- I do have a lot in my inbox most of the time so requests can tend to take a while. I apologize for this, but I am a student and I write on this blog for fun and to connect with people so I don’t ever want to feel stressed or pressured. I’ll usually get around to them and I will try my best, but I’ll admit I’m pretty slow <3

Most of my content is smut, but I really love fluff too though so please don’t be shy to request situations for that as well:)

I’m not huge on angst, generally I’m trying to escape when reading and writing, so I’d rather not write about sad things.

my absolute no’s:

incest (stepcest is fine), underage, scat play, age play/age regression, pet play, anything with self harm, abuse or eating disorders. Take a look at my work and see if it’s on par with what you may want to request. I will politely tell you if I don’t feel comfy writing for it. There’s also no harm in asking if you’re ever unsure. I truly don’t judge.

☾ darker themes, such as dub-con or consensual non consent are cool with me (to an extent. If you have questions feel free to ask…) ☾

prompt list here

(please do not plagiarize, copy, repost or translate any of my work here or on any other platforms and make sure to give credit where credit is due)

[more-than-a-princess]

Just a small reminder:

As I get ready to share IC starter memes again (IC starter memes and plotted starters are the best ways to begin a thread with me! I rarely, if ever, do starter calls), I just want to remind my mutuals of the following. These are in my rules and pinned post, but the latter hasn't been working properly for some time:

I am a multi-para to novella roleplayer for most IC threads, and prefer my writing partners be as well. I leave one liners and 1-2 paragraphs for dashcomm and/or crack only, and I tend to write these with muns I'm already threading with.

I use most starters as a starting point for threads. If you are sending me a prompt, please be interested in writing a thread! It is discouraging on my end to write a detailed starter and then never see a reply. If you have questions or concerns about the starter I've written you, please reach out and chat with me.

I cap all starter meme submissions, but please don't let that put you off from sending something in. This is more for my benefit, so I do not get overwhelmed with the amount of starters I write at any given time and so I can stay on top of current threads as well. I never want to take on more threads than I can keep up with at any given time: that's not fair to me or you!

For romance dynamics: this is a slow-burn blog. It is very unlikely Sonia will fall in love with your muse at first sight or in her first thread with yours (unless you are writing Gundham, and even then, she will not act on those feelings immediately). It's very unlikely she will fall in love with your muse during a first date, either. The romantic ships you see on this blog have grown from many interactions, many OOC chats and plotting, or most likely both. Platonic friendships are much easier for my muse to form than romantic bonds: please don't try to push a romantic ship too early, and especially without chatting with me (it's also why I don't do shipping calls over here: those tend to reveal themselves along the way!).

I'll be reblogging this again later tonight and during the day tomorrow for maximum visibility, but I've had some questions and issues regarding these points in recent months and wanted to clarify them for mutuals new and old before I start taking on new threads.

[coffeebanana]

wish i had some prpr ideas but they mostly amount to *insert location* *insert the love square* see was happens. (Beach day?)

Non prpr I have plenty and I’ll divulge a few.

Adrien tries to tell Nino he’s Chat Noir. Basically LB gave him the go ahead to tell one guy (just in case he tries to tell her, must be male). Adrien can’t just SAY it. He has to make Nino bring it up. Cue increasingly ridiculous scenarios where Adrien tries to make him bring it up. (I’ve wrote it a bit as warm up and I got, Adrien wears cat ears and Nino thinks he’s in love with Chat Noir and googles ‘how to support your gay furry bestfriend’)

Love square moves into small shitty apartment and are in love but Adrien’s guilty and they are in love.

Dating, no reveal. Enemies. Adrien (the bad guy) decides he should probably tell his gf he is (the bad guy) but then Mari accidentally reveals she’s (the good guy). (You decide how.)

AH! I wish I had more and better. I might pop back in if something hits me (something usually does)

See that's my current problem with trying to come up with PRPR prompts anon--all i can think of is locations and then I'm like "but what would I write about". But thank you for this!! It does give me a couple ideas 👀. Beach day could be fun omg and the apartment one begs the question of why they're stuck in a crappy apartment like what happened to Adrien's money and why does he feel guilty and well I did say I wanted pining prompts but I'm always a sucker for angst crumbs 😂 Also I just need you to know that the Adrien revealing himself to Nino idea is DELIGHTFUL and I think you have something there. Do they kiss by the end? Haha. Nino would totally be the most supportive and omg the shenanigans would be so fun. If you ever feel like playing with that idea more anon I'd love to read it some day 👀👀👀 (No pressure though!) Also as another possibility jakbdkjsb Ladybug tells Adrien he can only tell a guy so he reveals himself to Marino LOL that would be a solid crack concept.

Thank you for the ask, anon!! 💜

Feel free to send me prompt ideas for warm-up ficlets (preferably PRPR or other ships ft. zero braincell mutual pining). I may or may not actually write them but the brain is craving ideas kajdkfjsbfdjk