#everyone is asleep post self indulgent nonsense

[aesfocus]

A farmer from Whiterun hold.

[gi4hao]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ ˎˊ- comforting their s/o that’s scared of talking too much

ot13 x gn!reader — no warnings i think

veeeery self-indulgent post i’m ngl :) if you relate to the prompt then hopefully this will provide you with some comfort! <3

— seungcheol

he will insist on knowing who put such nonsense in your mind, because how dare they make you feel self-conscious about one of the things he loves the most about you? he absolutely adores that you passionately ramble about the most random things; it always lifts his mood even after a long and exhausting day. and that’s what he’s here to remind you: that you should never be ashamed of talking if it’s something that makes you happy.

— jeonghan

any kind of negative thoughts on your part becomes his #1 priority so he takes time to discuss it with you and give you enough reassurance. he reminds you that talking a lot is not a bad thing at all, and that you’re also an amazing listener, which he’s very grateful for. “people are just jealous because you’re interesting enough not to run out of conversation!” he tells you, wiping your tears away. it truly breaks his heart to see you so self-conscious so he’ll definitely be extra careful regarding this topic in the future <3

— joshua

no matter where that insecurity comes from, he comforts you with immense patience and lots of cuddles, reminding you of how much your words matter. on a more personal note, he absolutely adores the sound of your voice, it’s one of his favorite things about you. “i’d fall asleep to your voice every night if i could,” he tells you, looking into your teary eyes with a smile, and you just know he’s being 100% honest, “and you should never ever feel bad about wanting to share things with the people you love.”

— jun

it really pains him to hear that’s how you feel because he can only imagine how long you’ve been thinking about it before even telling him. but jun is here to tell you that you always make people feel comfortable, which is something he finds absolutely wonderful about you. he knows it can be hard to overthink about your social skills so he will always make sure to encourage you to speak your mind (whether it’s through a gentle squeeze of the hand or a smile from across the room). and he also showers you with kisses because he knows it’s one of the best remedies for overthinking :]

— hoshi

what? you? talking too much? oh he’s not gonna let that slide. he proceeds to go off on a tangent about your countless qualities (some that aren’t even related to the topic, he just gets carried away), because he will not let you struggle alone with your insecurities, that’s for sure. as often, he wishes he could lend you his eyes to make you understand how perfect you are to him. “and so what if you talk a lot? i do too! it’s who i am, it’s who you are and that’s why we’re a match made in heaven.”

— wonwoo

it feels weird for him to hear that you’re self-conscious about something he really admires you for. according to him, it’s the ease with which you talk that made your first dates not feel awkward. he loves how good you are with words of affirmation, and he also insists on how it inspires him to be more vocal about his own thoughts and feelings. “i don’t think you realize how entertaining you are. but i sure realize how lucky i am to have you,” he tells you in a more lighthearted tone, pressing a kiss against your temple.

— woozi

he insists on the fact that he’s one of the people that spends the most time with you, so you can truly believe him when he tells you that it’s not true. “that’s just because you love me,” you tell him, comfortably snuggled up against his side. “it is,” he replies, “but that goes for everyone around you; the people who love you will accept you for who you are. and if they don’t… screw them”. because woozi may be an absolute sweetheart but he has very low tolerance for the people who mess with his partner’s head.

— dokyeom

first and foremost, he offers to hug the sadness away, which kind of works because he’s a professional when it comes to comfort hugs. he knows it’s normal to have insecurities but he hates seeing you so self-conscious, so he’ll definitely try his best to cheer you up. also, words cannot describe how much he loves talking with you, so he’d really hate it if these bad thoughts ended up changing your personality. most of the time he’s the bubbly one, but he also likes to be fueled by his very own sunshine from time to time.

— mingyu

as a professional yapper, he understands where that insecurity might be coming from, which means he knows exactly how to comfort you. he’s here to remind you of all the times you’ve been a great listener to either him or your friends, and the great pieces of advice that followed. mingyu thinks your inputs are always important, no matter the conversation, and he’s so freaking happy to be sharing his life with someone that can keep up with his own pace! as long as he’s here, you know you’ll always have someone to listen to your every word.

— minghao

he’s scared he might have accidentally made you feel that way while teasing you (lovingly ofc), so he apologizes profusely until you tell him that he has nothing to do with it. “you enjoy sharing your perspective on things and that’s beautiful,” he reassures you, “and you know me, i’d tell you if you were too overbearing… but you’re not. so don’t worry your pretty head, ok?”. and it’s moments like these that truly make you feel grateful for minghao’s wise and comforting words, always carefully chosen to make your worries disappear in a second.

— seungkwan

kind of like cheol, he wants names. because - and he’s saying that with all due respect - they should know they’re just stupid people spreading stupid lies. seungkwan knows you by heart, he knows you’re a selfless person that’s always here to help their loved ones, and he thinks you’re not giving yourself enough credit for that! “you’re absolutely perfect in every way, and i thi- stop. i can see you’re about to argue but i’m not letting you win this one. no way.”

— vernon

he has a really sensitive approach to this issue, knowing how hard it is when you get in your own head. hugs and cuddles are definitely a part of him comforting you, but he also makes you promise something (and you can see from the look in his eyes that he’s very serious). “if you ever start overthinking after any kind of social interaction, private or public, with or without me, please come and talk to me. i’ll try my best to help you get rid of these thoughts, alright?”. because at the end of the day, he wants to be someone you can be fully transparent with, just like he is with you.

— dino

according to him, you shouldn’t even be thinking about how much you talk in a day. instead, he worries that you might be surrounding yourself with people that simply do not appreciate this aspect of your personality. “if you have something to say, go ahead! being yourself should make you happy, and life’s already too complicated to worry about speaking too many words!” he tells you, and you can tell he genuinely wants you to let go of these hurtful thoughts. but he also knows how hard it is, and luckily chan is great at making long-term efforts (especially for your wellbeing), so expect lots and lots of carefulness and support on a daily basis.

rbs and feedback are always appreciated <3

[stardusthuntress]

A Gala-ctic Evening (Part 2)

ARC Echo x AFAB!reader 

(Part 1)

Word Count: ~6k (hehehehehe! Here there be pure smut, friends!) 

Summary: Echo and the classic ‘night at the gala’ trope, continued. What a fun way to start a relationship with a sweet, flirty trooper like Echo. Corporal, ‘fix it all and flirt the whole way’ is your date for tonight, and he’s more than ready to take it all the way!  

TW: Again, 100% pure smut! PiV (wrap it before you tap it irl kids), pull out method (not advised irl), orals (f receiving), reader is a bit self-conscious of her own body (Echo does his best to reassure her), Echo being flirty and confident because he knows the reality of yolo

A/N: who needs plot when you’ve got a man like Echo! No minors allowed! 18+ only! Purely self-indulgent. Echo can have the exact same kinds of love that the other boys can! And with a man as confident and dedicated as Echo, why would you want anyone else! This is also the first time I've written and posted actual smut... I hope you like it!

Echo dividers by @/djarrex, hyperspace banners are my own 

Now at the hotel for the night, the pair continue to let their hearts dance closer and closer.  

“I never did get a chance to ask you to dance, my Starlight.” Echo offers, tugging her heels from her hand, dropping them in a chair, and returning his hands to her waist. 

“I’m no good at dancing,” she mutters, slightly nervous and put out. 

“Nonsense, it’s just a chance to hold you close, skill doesn’t matter to me. Here,” he scoops up her hand and twirls her on the spot. 

“See? Easy, I’ll lead, just hold on to me. Besides,” he leans closer, to whisper mischeviously in her ear, “there’s no one here to watch, and I don’t have any skill at it either. I just want an excuse to hold you close and see your radiant joy again.” 

She giggles and hides in his shoulder. 

His arms settle loosely around her waist, and he ever so gently coaxes her to sway and move around the room in small circles. 

She relaxes a bit, nuzzling into his shoulder instead of hiding in it. 

Echo steals a moment to place a soft kiss on her hair as they sway and swirl around the room. 

She raises her head, a dreamy look in her eyes as they dart between meeting his and stealing glances at his lips. 

Their steps slow as their focus shifts, neither is sure when exactly their feet stop moving and they stand still, only that it means their lips meet in a dance of their own. 

After a moment, they break apart to stare deep into each other’s eyes. 

“My Starlight,” Echo whispers. Her attention is drawn to his lips, and the nervousness reappears. 

“Oops, maybe I should take the makeup off before it makes a mess of us both.” 

Echo smirks, “if that’s what you want.” He’s eager to see her face without all the getup again. Just her, the way he’s most familiar with her everyday in her armor. The way he’s dreamed of her late at night when everyone is asleep. 

She tugs him into the bathroom to clean the lipstick that transferred onto him, then reluctantly ushers him out so they can both change into something a little more comfortable. 

She takes off the makeup, and lets her hair loose, then needs help with the dress. 

And he’s sitting on the bed with his bow tie undone and shirt unbuttoned and untucked. Belt draped over a nearby chair atop his jacket. 

As she reappears in the fresher doorway, he can tell she’s a little self conscious after taking the makeup off. 

But Echo looks up with a relieved smile and instantly compliments how nice it is to see the real her without the makeup. 

“It was nice to be considered pretty for once”, she says. 

But Echo prefers her without makeup, and made it his business to tell her as much. “You don’t need it, I finds her natural beauty even more stunning without it.” His tone and eyes reflecting his genuine nature. 

Though, for now he keeps to himself how the dark color of her lipstick had made him aware of the finer details of how her lips moved that he hadn’t noticed before. But he was even more entranced watching those movements without the lipstick now. Knowing that he, and he alone could see those subtleties in the way she moved and the expressions she made. 

She doesn’t know how to respond, so instead she turns her attention back to getting the dress off. Besides, he’s made her a little hot and bothered now, perhaps he’s earned a chance to see her with a little less on? 

Then she turns, shifts her hair so she can still see him, and directs him to the fasteners on the dress. 

His scomp sits on her waist, anchoring them to each other. 

That’s when he notices she’s still wearing the belt. 

He tenderly traces the belt around her waist, peering over her shoulder, careful not to look down her top, just to find the clip with his handprint on it. One finger slips beneath the belt so he can grip the clip with one hand, and he unfastens it. 

As the belt slips away from her hips, he lifts the clip higher so he can look at it. He rests his chin on her shoulder, and rubs his thumb over the handprint shape. He’s dying to know how she found out about his symbol from his old unit. Or if it’s merely a coincidence? It can’t be, it’s too well coordinated with his old color. But that’s a question for later. Right now, he just wants her. 

Instead he simply raises an eyebrow and shifts his eyes to her, to ask if she knew what the symbol meant to him. Her cheek brushes against his and she shyly looks away, smiling at the floor. So she did know. Well, it worked like a charm. His heart was already hers, but everything that happened tonight simply solidified that. 

So he presses a kiss into her cheek, and squeezes her tight before reluctantly leaning back to look for the fastener of the dress. 

He finds the fastener on the back of one hip, and places his hand over it. He leans forward again, his lips near her ear to ask a quiet, “May I?” While pressing another kiss into her cheek. 

Her cheeks warm, and she smiles, nodding. 

This time he simply rotates one shoulder back to examine the clasp, keeping as much of their bodies in contact as he can. What do ya know, the clasp is easy to undo with one hand, and the dress begins to unravel, exposing her back to him. 

He can’t help but brush his knuckles against the soft skin of her back on it’s way back up to her shoulder, but his hand never quite reaches her shoulder… 

“Don’t stop” she whispers, eyes drifting closed. 

She can feel his breath on her neck as he takes a moment to prepare himself, then allows the tips of his fingers to ghost over her skin. He adds one finger at a time, each one feather light and smooth. His fingers find the edges of the exposed skin, but respectfully avoid dancing beyond the limit of what he can see. 

Her brow furrows, but her eyes remain closed. She hums, searching for a way to tell him what she is hoping for. “Like you did in the gardens,” she manages as the back of his fingers continue to glide across her skin. 

“Like this?” He checks, allowing his ring finger and pinky to slip beneath the fabric hanging loosely from her shoulders. 

“Yes!” she breathes. He’s happy to see her brow is no longer creased. 

“If that’s what you wish, My Starlight, then you shall have it.” The press of his hand becomes a little more firm, as his palm flattens against her and explores around her back. Slipping to her shoulders, he massages a bit, then finds his fingers already under the straps there. Using his thumb, he hesitantly pushes the strap off of his fingers a bit. 

“What if we—?“ he begins, starting to push the strap off of her shoulder just a bit. 

She can only nod and relax her shoulder, allowing him to slip it off a little easier. 

Echo is sure he’s fallen asleep and is in the middle of the best kind of dream. She’s letting him remove her clothes! 

He ever so gently slips his scomp link around her beneath the now loose material and runs the cold metal up her side to her shoulder. She gasps in pleasure and shivers again! Echo is in heaven. 

“Would you allow me to remove this one too?” He queries, scomp holding steady near her shoulder, but ready to retract it should she say no. “I won’t take it personally if you say no, Sweetheart. I promise,” He whispers. Consent means everything to this man. He knows first hand what it is like to not get a say in something to be done to his own body and would never inflict that upon anyone. 

“Don’t stop now,” her breathy voice does things to him, he discovers. 

Slow enough that she could easily stop him if she changed her mind, he eases the strap off her shoulder and lets the fabric fall to the floor, pooling like stars reflected in a lake at her feet. 

He holds his breath, realizing there’s no binder strap at her back nor shoulders. 

She shifts a bit, arms covering her chest, and he can tell it’s from nerves. So he immediately jumps into action, doing everything he can think of to soothe her mind. 

He leans forward and presses his lips to the back of her neck, and she gasps. It’s music to his ears. 

His scomp arm returns to her waist, wrapping delicately around her front, and pulling her back to his chest. His other arm doing the same, but angled upwards at the elbow, across her chest, wrist happily settling between her breasts, hand sliding into place along her collarbone, just below the spot where her shoulder meets her neck. 

Meanwhile, his lips leave more and more open-mouthed kisses down her neck and trailing across her shoulders. 

She tilts her head to one side, exposing her neck to him, and he rewards her communicative nature with more passionate kisses, pressing her firmly into his chest, hand beginning to wander towards her breasts. 

Finally he breaks away from kissing and sucking on her neck to look down at her body, exposed for his eyes only! 

“Oh, Mesh’la!” He croons in her ear, she can feel him shiver as his eyes light up, hand finding her breast and squeezing a bit. “You are a sight for sore eyes!” 

She clings to his arm at her waist, her other arm snaking behind her to the back of his neck 

“Echo!” She breathes. 

Echo’s restraint finally snaps. Stars, does he want her! Desperately! 

His lips immediately return to her neck, this time finding that spot just beneath her ear. Renewed vigor driving every move as he groans into her, squeezing her to him, and sucking harder as she moans at his ministrations. 

She whimpers, knees getting shaky. 

He feels her trembling in his arms, and stops, but only to scoop her off her feet and carry her bridal style to the bed, sitting her upright in the middle of it. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart.” And he kisses her with everything he has, hand on her cheek, as he begins to crawl over her onto the bed, supporting her weight as he gently lowers her back, maneuvering himself between her legs. 

Her hands cup his face, and she presses the kisses back, matching his passion and then some. Grasping at the untied bow tie again, she uses it as extra leverage to keep his lips in contact with hers as he hovers over her, one knee between hers. 

He can feel the tingle of excitement racing through his body as the kisses become more and more desperate. His tongue exploring her mouth like nothing else exists. And his thigh, his real, flesh and blood thigh pressing into her core. He can feel her warmth, and her wetness through her panties as she presses back. 

He begins to lower his body weight onto her, but is almost too careful not to let the weight of his metal limbs rest on her. 

She breaks the kiss to smile and giggle a little. Echo can’t help but watch as she radiates joy. 

“Love,” her half-lidded eyes, framed with her laughter find his own, “you can put your whole weight on me. All of you. You know damn well I am not delicate.” 

“You shouldn't have to bear the weight of my alterations, pun intended.” He smirks. 

She giggles. “As much as I love that you’re getting your sense of humor back, Hun, I’m not afraid of your alterations. I love them too. After all, they allowed us to meet. I am grateful, change doesn’t have to be a bad thing. We can decide if we want to make it into a good thing. It isn’t easy, and it takes a lot of hard work, but you won’t be alone for it. I’ll be right here. I rather like laying under you, Love.” 

Echo chuckles nervously, tucking his head into her shoulder. Doing his best to make sure his headgear doesn’t end up in her face when he does so. The last thing he wants is to let any of his metal parts become the reason she gets a black eye. 

He’s still partially hovering over her. His weight on his elbows on either side of her. Hips against hers, his thigh still pressed to her core. But his eyes are drawn down towards their hips when he feels her shifting beneath him. Ready to lift the awkward weight of his prosthesis off of her as soon as he can figure out which one is bothering her. But what he sees is not what he expected to see. 

Slowly, sensually, her foot arches as she uses it to stroke up his thigh, over the seam between metal and man, over his ass, and around to rest her calf on the small of his back, using her calf to press his ass down. Encouraging him to put his full weight on her. 

Echo groans, still next to her ear, allowing his eyes to fall shut, too aroused to do anything else. And the vision he’s met with is one he hopes he never forgets. The arch of her foot, pressed into the muscle of his leg. Her ankles at the same angle he’d noticed when he first saw her in heels when the night was only just beginning. 

He’s drawn from his reverie, eyes popping open, when he feels her other foot beginning the same journey up his other leg. 

Echo can only watch, wide eyed, and feel. Man oh man can he feel it! As she latches her ankles behind his hips, and tugs his full weight onto her, he starts to melt for her. He allows his legs to flatten so he can feel every inch of her, by her own volition, pressed tightly against every inch of skin he had left. 

Her hands sneak up his back, under his unbuttoned shirt. Slowly, giving him a chance to say no if he wanted. But he has no reason to protest any of it. With one hand at his lower back, and one hand between his shoulder blades, she urges the rest of him down onto her body. 

He lets his elbows slide out, until he can no longer feel the cool air between them, only the warmth of her. Only the softness of her skin as he nuzzles into her neck. He shifts his real arm so he can pet her hair, but finds himself momentarily stalled when he realizes he can feel her nipples against his chest. He wants to look down, to see her finally exposed to him. But first he needs to see the look in her eyes, make sure she’s still happy with this choice now that his full weight is on her. 

So his eyes flick up, to find her eyes so much more full of love than he ever expected anyone could ever feel towards him. 

His hand finally makes it to her hair, stroking it. And then moving to brush the back of his knuckles against her cheek. 

A flash of mischief crosses her eyes briefly, and she manages to catch his knuckles with a kiss. 

Echo’s own smile brightens. And he finds his eyes already tracing her lips, before he gives in and presses her into the bed with a kiss. Pushing harder into her with every second that passes. 

She licks at his lips this time, opening his mouth, and searching for his tongue. 

Echo obliges with a moan, his tongue surging forward to meet hers. 

Teeth clash as both tongues search deeper, wanting to know every inch of each other. 

With a final suck on her tongue, Echo pulls back to gaze into her eyes. His need to confirm that he’s still got it. The hunger in her eyes, all he needs to keep going.  

Then his kisses trail down her neck 

All the way to her breasts 

The way she tends to subtly cover her chest tells him she’s not very confident about her breasts, so he decides to spend a little extra time pouring his love into them. 

She begins to mewl beneath him, her arms and legs clinging tightly to him. He’s impressed by the strong grip of her legs, giving away how much she loves him. 

So he sucks harder, and licks slower, and plays longer. 

Her hand moves to the back of his neck, holding him to her breast, telling him without words how much she enjoys the way he’s loving on her. 

He begins to squeeze and knead her other breast, and lets a few fingers just barely brush over her nipple. 

Her legs get impossibly tighter around him. 

He pulls back, all but gasping for air, and cursing the fact that he needs air at all. His face turns to the breast that only received the attention of his hand, and she can feel his breath against her skin as he suddenly lowers back down to even out his love-making, now pouring his devotion into this side. 

His hand slides down her hip, until he finds the waistband of her underwear, and begins to play with the hemline that rests on her hip while he continues to lavish her breasts. 

She rests her hand over his to encourage him to keep it there. 

He can feel the growing wetness in her underwear as it rubs on his abdomen. 

Echo chuckles, the vibrations from his laugh doing a number on her breast. They’re both groaning now. 

His hand traces the hemline of her panties around the curve of her leg and towards the spot that’s aching for him. 

She huffs in protest when the soft touch on her hip slips away for a second. That is, until she bucks her hips upwards again, and finds his palm waiting to cup her core through her panties. 

His fingers rest near the waistband, his palm sits where she wants it most. 

One of her hands still cups the back of Echo’s head, the other now holds his hand against her sex, so she can buck against it repeatedly. 

Echo begins to break away from her breasts so he can look down and begin to allow his fingers to dance along the skin on either side of the panties. 

He still can’t believe this is real. She’s nearly naked in front of him, using his own hand to massage parts of her so private he thought he’d only see them in his dreams. 

He’s breathing heavy, moaning with each thrust of her pelvic bone against his hand. His tallest finger begins to ever so slightly tug the waistband of her panties down. He almost doesn't even notice his thumb beginning to slide under the fabric too. 

“Yes, Echo!” She breaths, head thrown back. 

“May I… remove them?” He asks, hesitantly, as though any words will shatter the moment. 

“Please!” She’s doing her best to refocus her eyes on his face, but he’s rather proud she’s already so infatuated with what he’s doing. She’s breathing heavily as she gasps out, “just rip them off, Love, I have no intention to unwrap my legs, if you’re alright with that.” 

He looks up at her, pressing his palm against her core, meeting her thrust for thrust. “Are, uhh… are you sure?” He whispers, “This lace is really pretty on you. I’d hate to ruin something I’d love to see on you again.” 

She laughs. “I’ll get more, I promise. Maybe even a complete set next time,” she winks, “but I need to feel you inside me!” She takes a breath before continuing, “use your scomp to rip through them, please!” No longer caring how desperate she sounded. 

“Yes, Ma’am!” He breathes. How can he deny her when she begs so pretty! And, she’d so willingly accepted his metal parts without even thinking about it. Echo felt himself falling harder for her with every passing second together. 

She props herself up on her elbows to watch, as Echo finally wraps his fingers under the gentle lace, to lift it from her skin. He takes a second to admire the soft patterns before bringing his scomp to the lace and brrrrrrrrrrrrr-ing right through the fabric just above each leg. 

He looks up at her, still in disbelief that he just ripped the panties off his partner on their first night together. Only to find her biting her lip as she watches him. 

She leans forward, cupping his cheek in her hand and kissing him so deeply, he forgets he’s still holding the shreds of her underwear. Right up until he feels them getting tugged from his hand. 

He looks down to see her stuff it into the back pocket of his pants. His wide-eyes return to hers, a hopeful question in them. 

“Keep them, Love. And maybe you can help me pick out the next pair,” she says with a kiss to his cheek. 

He feels a shiver race down his spine as he surges forward to press another passionate kiss to her lips. But when her wetness touches his abdomen, with no barrier this time, he breaks the kiss in a gasp. 

“Oooooh, that feels good!” He moans, reaching between them to once again cup her core with his palm, but this time without the hindrance of that last layer of fabric. 

“Echo! It does, I agree, but I need you inside me!!” 

Infatuated with her, and how much he loves her, he swallows hard, then licks his lips, focusing all his attention on her lower lips and starts to finger her, tracing her lower lips torturously slowly, dragging it out. 

One finger slides down either side of the labia, opening the labia and running a finger up the inside, one on each side and then together back down the middle, pressing into her ever so slightly. Dipping inside a teasing amount, and letting his fingers explore her inner folds. Teasing her entrance, Before a finger slips slowly inside. 

Her back arches for a moment as she groans with wild abandon, and he catches a nipple in his mouth. 

Slowly, sensually, he pulls his fingers out, and ever more slowly pushes them back in, once, twice. 

And then he feels it. That spongy spot, deep within her. He adds pressure to that spot, wiggling his fingers in tiny swirling movements as he does so. 

Her back arches almost immediately, tugging her nipple from his mouth with a pop, and her noises become even more desperate and needy. 

“There it is,” he whispers, watching her face as he pulls out and inserts a second finger with the first this time, before continuing to massage her g spot. 

The room explodes into white ribbons of hyperspace behind her eyelids as she clings to Echo as tightly as her fingers will allow. 

Echo’s hand is coated in her wetness, and he can feel her walls tugging him deeper in before losing their rhythm and fluttering around his fingers. 

When she cries out, he starts to slow his pace, massaging her through it, and coaxing her back to the here and now. 

When she opens her eyes, she finds his forehead against her own, eyes watching for hers with rapt attention. 

“That’s it, I’m here, my Starlight. Dank ferrik that was hot!” 

When she blushes and giggles he knows she’s returned from hyperspace and slowly extracts his fingers. 

She gasps at the empty feeling, but watches with rapt attention as he brings his fingers directly to his mouth. His eyes practically rolling back and closing as he indulges in the taste of her, sucking every last drop from his own digits.  

She begs him to put something back inside her. Fingers, tongue, cock, even his scomp (though she doubts he’s ready for that); any of them, as long as he’s iniside her. 

“I don’t think my manhood works anymore, Love.” Echo finally voices his concern, rather ashamed he didn’t say it before they started. What if she rejects him now? He’s not sure he can take that. 

Instead she giggles. “Maybe only a partner has the right tools for the job now,” she whispers against his headgear. “And you’re still wearing too much.” She’s already begun to peel the shirt from his shoulders. Once it’s on its way to the floor, she moves to unbutton and unzip his pants. 

It’s all Echo can do to steady his breathing and watch, wide-eyed, as she pulls the clothes from his body faster than he expected. 

Once they’re both nude, she flips him onto his back, and grinds down on him. 

He grips her hips as tightly as he dares, not hesitating to groan loudly with every swirl of her hips. 

Happily watching from below as she massages his length with her wetness. Surprised as he begins to feel himself growing and getting hard beneath her. 

Maybe she was right! 

She smiles as she begins to feel it too. 

Echo revels in the feeling of finally having her most intimate parts in contact with his own, still amazed that this is real. As her hips swivel over his own he lets his gaze wander lovingly over her body. 

He finds his attention drawn to her breasts again. His boldness growing, he asks if he can suck on her nipple. 

She complies without hesitation, leaning down to deposit one into his open mouth. Relishing the feeling of him licking and sucking every inch of it. 

“Echo!” She whispers. 

He detaches, wide eyes finding hers immediately, mind very hazy from everything she’s doing to him. 

“I need you,” she gasps, hips still swivelling on his. “I need you.” 

Echo’s restraint snaps with a thrust of his hips, and he flips her onto her back with gusto. She squeaks in surprise, but her eyes tell him she’s excited. He looks down, and finds himself surprised at how much of himself she’s managed to coax out of hiding. 

He looks back up at her with excitement as he lines himself up, searching her expression for any hesitation. 

Instead she smirks at him and bites her lip, and he feels her leg around his hips, adding just enough pressure to start slipping inside. 

Their breaths pick up, but their gaze holds steady, caught in the trance of each other as he slowly slides into place. 

He’s certain that her determination to hold his gaze and the way she gasps while staring deep into his eyes is the hottest thing he’s ever seen! 

Once in, they both hold still for a moment. Eyes and mouths conveying a thousand feelings their words cannot express while they gasp for breath and sneak kisses and nibbles. 

He shivers, and she clenches around him, making him moan and involuntarily thrust. 

“I’m not gonna last long, my Starlight,” he gasps out, “can I move?” 

“Not yet… need a minute… been awhile,” she mumbles between breaths, clutching him tighter. 

After a few deep breaths, her chest heaves a little less, and he raises his eyebrows, touching his forehead to hers. A silent question. 

A mischievous spark lights her eyes, and she locks her ankles together behind him, biting her lip, and shaking her head, no. “Let’s enjoy this for a bit,” she teases. 

They lay there, eyes also locked together, beginning to pant again. This time with the effort of not moving. 

There was only one thing she knew for certain, only one thought reverberating around the inside of her head: he felt so good inside her! 

When she clenched again, Echo’s eyes squeezed shut, and his head moved to the crook of her neck as he groaned in her ear. 

“Dank ferrik, Love,” he was shaking with the effort of holding still now, “not sure… I can… take much more…” 

As a means of agreement, she began to move her hips in small circles. 

With a loud moan of ecstasy, Echos arms tightened around her, securing her to him with all his strength, “C-Can I? Please?” He didn’t even try to hide the desperation in his voice. 

“YES!” 

And with that he began thrusting to meet her hips with a feral energy. 

His open mouth finding hers, tongues almost instantly seeking companionship to cling to and massage. 

Within moments both were struggling to keep their rhythm. 

Echo’s lips break from hers with a gasp. 

“Where?” She could hear him holding back, but barely. 

“Outside of me,” was all she could manage. 

Barely two thrusts later, and Echo hastily pulled out, careful to only paint her abdomen from the outside. 

She gasped when he removed himself, instantly missing the feeling of him. 

Even at the pinnacle of his climax, he knew she hadn’t finished yet. So he replaced his cock with two fingers. 

Barely in control of his own limbs, his fingers thrust in rather quickly. 

But the way she arched and let out a high pitched squeak next to the ear wells in his headset was almost enough to make him cum again as his length dances across his own mess on her stomach. His fingers search for the elusive spot inside her, as her moans serenade him with each shift of a finger inside her. 

He curls his fingers inside her, and her moans go up an octave. 

Echo smirks, an idea on the tip of his tongue, and he shifts his weight. 

The world around her is a blur, but she’s aware of Echo’s movement beside her and inside of her, until he suddenly pulls out. 

She sits up with a gasp. She wasn’t done yet. But the scene she’s met with is better than she expected. 

Echo, still smirking and watching her no doubt disheveled expressions with rapture, is arranging her legs on his shoulders, his hot breath dancing over the spot where she needs him the most. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you there. Just lie back, my Starlight.” He whispers, inching closer to her wetness with each word. He holds her gaze for a moment and then dives in, eyes still fixed on her face. He licks a long stripe up the expanse of her slit and watches as she throws her head back in ecstasy with a loud moan. 

He pulls back slightly to give her a moment to breathe, only to blow gently across her wetness. She squirms, hands searching for his in the sheets. 

Ever the perceptive ARC, he spots the way her hands feel for his, and he captures her fingers between his before diving in for more. 

He licks up and down, and lets his tongue dip in and out. Her whimpers serenade his every move and her legs tremble on his shoulders. She’s close now. He can feel it. 

So he exchanges his tongue for two fingers and latches onto her clit, sucking hard. 

White hot stars explode in her mind's eye, as she loses all control of her rhythm, fluttering around his fingers for a second time. Her hips tighten around his hand and shoulders, and her nails rake his back. 

He slowly pumps his fingers in and out, grounding her, and working her through her climax as her body begins to relax, still wrapped tightly around him. He glances down to remove his fingers, enjoying the sight of them both coated in each other’s release. But his eyes quickly return to hers, and he moves back up to cuddle her, keeping close watch until her eyes focus on his again and her breathing returns to a normal level. 

“How was that, my Starlight?” He asks with a giddy laugh. 

Her eyes narrow playfully, she’s still panting just a touch. “Was that your first time since… uh…?” 

“Yeah,” he laughs nervously, tucking his nose into her neck, careful as his headgear nears her face. 

“STARS, Echo! You must have a lot more experience than I do!” She starts to get a bit nervous. 

He scoops her into his arms, holding her close. 

“Not experience, dreams. Dreams of all the things I’d heard my brothers say worked well that I wanted to try, a few ideas of my own, and a handful of things that that outfit you wore tonight made me want to do. Dank Ferrik, I might need you to wear it again sometime, you looked amazing!” 

“Need, huh?” She asks, somewhere between eager and curious. 

He laughs, slightly embarrassed, and then takes a breath and just embraces it, “Yeah, need.” He declares, eyes bright with a fire she’d only dreamed she could ever find. 

She giggles, and he decides that all the noises she’s made tonight just made the top of the list of all his favorite sounds in the galaxy. 

They hold each other close for a few moments, until she shives slightly. 

“Let me clean us up, my Starlight. No, you stay right there. I want to do this for you.” 

She relaxes back into the bed and just watches as he disappears into the fresher and reemerges with a soft, wet towel which he proceeds to use to gently wipe between her legs and then absorb his own mess from her abs. 

They chit chat as he drops the towel off the side of the bed in his rush to feel her skin against his own again, wrapping them both in the sheets. His hand runs slowly up and down her back, coaxing her to sleep on him, more content than he, a trooper designed and raised for combat, has ever known before. 

Echo shifts, becoming aware of the world around him again, and snuggling into the soft warmth in his arms. He opens his eyes to find the gorgeous woman he’s been pining over for the longest time still wrapped in his arms, legs tangled with his, contentment on her sleeping face. 

He watches her for a moment, the soft light in the room making her look like the ethereal Angels from the Moons of Iago. 

She seems to sense his alertness and tries to find her way back to the land of the waking, brow furrowing. 

Hmm, Echo finds himself needing to fix the discontent of her expression, so he covers her in a barrage of kisses. She wakes with a giggle. 

They lay there chatting for a few minutes, enjoying the lack of needing to be anywhere for a while. 

A few more unhurried kisses later, they decide to get up to make the most of the morning before their ride gets there. 

So they start their morning routines, but this time with a lot more sweet touches and long gazes than usual. 

He exits the bathroom to find her wearing his shirt from the night before, with her lack of any undergarments peeking out beneath it, totally unbuttoned in the front, barely hiding anything, and is instantly aroused again. 

Offers her a hand with a smirk, and pulls her to him when she takes it, beaming at her. 

Both his hand and scomp slip underneath the shirt to wrap around her waist, and she smiles radiantly back. So he kisses her, and pins her to the wall, hard but gentle, like there’s no tomorrow. Slipping a leg between hers, he aches to feel her wetness on his own skin again. Her knee sensually slides up his leg to wrap around his waist. Still barely believing last night was real, Echo’s hand moves to her thigh, gripping it tightly. They still have a little while until Crosshair arrives to pick them up, plenty of time… for round two. After all, they are both still in need of a long, hot shower… 

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it! 

Taglist: (I gathered some of these from the reblogs and comments, I hope that's ok! If you want me to take you off the list just dm me!)  @amorfista (I promised it would be up soon! Hehe!) @the-hexfiles @starrylothcat @daimyosprincess @miss-mouse99

[semimedieval]

the beach part 8: much like early 10s hitmaker bruno mars, quartz does is gay

i'm eating the most crazy delicious leftovers maybe ever. my fan is on my window is open. i don't want to work but i maybe have another hour of little menial/argumentative tasks left in me before fullscale Weekend Indulgence. but this post isn't about any of that. this post is about quartz and spark going into town.

Last time we saw Quartz, she was in the middle of a plot significant/emotional development significant conversation with Rim for the second time, and casually fucked off from that conversation, also for the second time. It's funny how much the storyline ebb and flow of this roleplay depends on Who's Online �� there's no point in having Quartz linger indefinitely next to Rim if it's Jack who's online, not Moopy. Or at least so the logic goes – but there is no reason not to creatively stretch these limitations, to have Obsidian talk to Spark, to have Lupus talk to Ky (as they haven't meaningfully done for ages, not since breaking up and getting back together. there's a lot to unpack there but god forbid actions have consequences!!!)

Anyway the good news is that 15 year old Katia was bare-minimum competent enough to fuse those two Quartz/Rim conversations into one – a conversation that comes before the dragon, which threw me off a little because my dominant memory of events is the one in 2.0. They also, of course, put a Compulsory Heterosexuality spin onto this classic line:

Quartz had put on a pair of shorts a few hours ago. "What's up, Spark?" she asked her friend. "Nothing much." she stood up. "I'm going back into town! Sound good?" "Sure, I'll come too. I need to get away...from all the people..." she paused, aware of how odd that sounded coming from her mouth. It was Obsidian who was the misanthrope. Not her. Definitely not her. "let's go!" she said, taking her hand.

I'll give my 2012 self this: the level of 'constantly having a gay crisis' that Quartz was written as in this roleplay, apparently completely by accident, is fucking incredible. Her dogged avoidance of Rim every time it seems like things are getting too intimate between them. Her gravitation towards Spark. These weird floating moments of sadness, to which young Katia does not assign a source – as a writer, they themself seem only partially aware of what the source even is, but they know the sadness is there. Everyone should read their own writing from when they were a clueless child. Nobody's writing should be clueless on purpose, but clueless writing is fascinating and revelatory.

We get a little bit of what passes in this RP for detailed worldbuilding, which is fun.

Even though it was night, the town was still active and alive. Quartz looked around. "It's so different from Goatville," she murmured. "Back home, everyone was asleep at this time. There were no posh shops, and any sweets you could buy were cheap. The food was different in general." Sadness touched her eyes at the memory of the fire.

It's interesting – the thought of Quartz as a very outgoing and vivid personality who finds herself growing more melancholic with age is a compelling one, but it's nonsense, structurally, to insist that that process is a product of the roleplay's events. The most traumatic events in Quartz's life happen in the narrative's prologue and in its first major venture in the outside world – Silva's death and what follows, then the Goatville fire. That conclusion is kind of evident from the way I'm writing Quartz in 3.0, and the root of that is reflected in the source material – it's not a progression from perky to melancholic, it's that those two modes of seeing the world are always present in Quartz. If anything, her journey in 3.0 is defined by her relationships to people and to magic, how those relationships change, the new fears and new opportunities that they open.

In any case, Spark is too busy coming up with ice cream-related heist ideas to entertain Quartz's new contemplative mode.

Spark walked into an ice-cream store. She put her hands on her hips in indignation. "How expensive!" Spark walked over to the counter and put on her sweet girl face. Quartz held back a giggle; Spark's angelic look was quite a sight to see. She herself turned her toes inward, looked up, and put her hands behind her back.

What follows is a pretty dumb scene where Spark flirts her way into a free ice cream, does not share any with Quartz, and declares that this approach for acquiring goods and services "Works every time!" Rim catches this on surveillance cameras, which is funny because Quartz and Spark did not really commit a crime – if anybody would be getting in trouble it would be the poor kid at the cash register.

Ice cream acquired, the two of them walk back from town, and Rim hits them with "I saw all of it!" What a weirdo. Quartz reacts to it with a Draco Rizlak level of aggressiveness / throws her best friend under the bus, so I guess she is written to have a crush on Rim now.

Spark started blushing. "Wh-what?" Quartz's eyes widened unnecessarily and she clenched her fists. "Spark has rather odd...methods," she said finally. "What?" she made a show of raising her hands in the air. "I'm broke!" He grinned. "Uhuh, lucky for you a few minutes of video feed was mysteriously deleted. You had almost three cameras pointing at you" Quartz blinked. "Thanks, I suppose." He shrugged. "It's fine, I just guessed you didn't want people to be watching the entire scene."

Then it's his turn to fuck off abruptly and bother Lorcan. I'm not going to recap that because I do not care about Lorcan, but I did giggle about this.

Spark nudged Quartz. "You have a crush on him or something?" (No one should hear that but Quartz XD) "Why would I?" Quartz said in a steely voice. Then seeing Spark's look of hurt, she smiled at her friend and said, "Sorry. Let's go do something. Or something. Else." Spark laughed. "I see how it is. What SHOULD we do?" "Mmm..." she sat down on the sand and hugged her knees. "I honestly have no idea."

I'm still in the Dragon RP School Of OC Romances With Internet Strangers, which is to say "even if you're interested in writing a subplot like that, you have to play it cool by reacting to the possibility with the most aggression possible." I don't think this is in character for Quartz, and that I handle it better (though stupider in other ways) in 2.0, where Quartz's answer is something more "Yes. No. I don't know!"

There is so much Bruno Mars on this playlist, by the way.

Lorcan, Rim, and Ky scale some cliffs, Ky expresses some extremely PE-class-experience vibe thoughts about liking individual exercises but not team sports, and then they explore some caves, one of which has bones in it, a fact that goes more or less unremarked after Lorcan notices it. Spark commits to building a sandcastle, and Quartz helps. It's pretty adorable.

"What's that?" Quartz asked curiously as she built turrets. "Main structure." she cleared out the inside and drew little windows on the sides. Quartz nodded, smiling. Picking up a sharp, pointy rock, she used it to carve a brick pattern into the sand. Spark made turrets higher up on the main bulding. She then made little sand people and carefully placed them inside. "Quartz! Give them light!" Grinning, Quartz, carefully inserted her hand into the castle and snapped her finges. Merry little lights became visible through Spark's windows, lighting up the night.

Then we break the boundaries of magic a little bit, committing to the bit if the bit is 'nonsense.' We even get some continuity with That Damn Squirrel.

Spark made a bridge. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "How about you give the sand people light hearts?" Quartz's eyes widened. "Is that possible?" "Ky brought that squirrel back to life. Just give it a try!" She shrugged and touched the sand person. He waved up at her and blew a raspberry. "Haha! Cool!" One got up and walked around, taking the crown. Lupus walked up behind them. "Now you've got a proper castle. You need a coronation." Spark observed the tiny people."Looks like they're forming a kingdom." A king and Queen sat at the head of the castle, with servants running around. Lupus knelt down before the one with the crown. "I crown thee king," he said in a formal voice. The sand person looked up at him and straightened his crown, bowing. Quartz laughed.

I do not think I'm keeping this but 15-year-old me was right to spin it out into a labored metaphor, even though they fumbled the execution. It's asking to be a labored metaphor. Spark and Quartz and Lupus build a kingdom, with the rules and reference points they know structuring the way the kingdom looks. But in the end it cannot stay. Doomed to be washed away by the tide and the wind.

22 works less well as a throwback song. I have definitely heard that song in non-2013 contexts.

Crucially, Quartz and Spark walk alongside the beach. Quartz is still being written as if she is desperately in love with her best friend and close to opening those floodgates at all times, which is awesome.

Quartz took one last look at the castle, already bustling with activity. She then followed Spark. Spark walked along the beach, letting the water wash up on her bare feet. "Spark?" Quartz asked suddenly. "Hmmm?" she looked up at Quartz. "What is it?" "What's.... important to you?" she asked, looking down. "An odd question, that's for sure." "That's easy. My friends. Definitely. And you?" she asked. "Yeah, my friends, I suppose. And Obsidian. And, well. Light, in a way. Does that even make sense?"

I love Spark's confidence in contrast with Quartz's hesitation, and I love that, as the beach adventure progresses, the POV focus of 'who's the character with interiority, who's the accessory' shifts pretty neatly from Obsidian to Quartz. The problem with this, of course, is that they should both have interiority and that I miss hearing from Obsidian and to a lesser extent from Leander. The good news is that we get these iconic Quartz moments with Spark and Rim, which will set the stage for this character's stranglehold on my psyche.

Anyway, the two of them do the whole silly 'ah if only we were normal.... instead, we have, Powers....' thing that this roleplay loves to backtrack to when it doesn't have any better ideas.

"Yah. I mean, what would we be without the elements?" Spark gave a knowing look. "We'd be people. And with them we're Extranei. Outsiders." "Oh,god. Still stuck on that? We SAVE the people. That makes us heros. True, most of them fear us. HAve you ever....just....just..wanted to be normal?" ";No, not really. I was just saying. I don't really want much else... But I sort of miss the days when Silva was alive and I lived in Goatville. Sometimes." "What is the one thing you miss the most?" "I don't know," she shrugged, sitting down in the sand. "Anyway, it's fine."

that said, the narrative does go from there to somewhere pretty interesting: for what might be the actual first time, Quartz deigns to remember that Sylva was her friend too, that she misses the life she had even if she wouldn't trade it away. It's a belated but necessary character touchpoint, tangible evidence that I spent that whole summer teaching myself how to write with the unmatched power of Websites.

The bad news is that it doesn't go anywhere; the good news is that I take it into some productive, if still flawed, directions by the time that 2.0 rolls around. In this particular lull between moments of action and plot-moving, the outcomes are a lot more memorable and compelling than they were the first time, which is why almost nothing from the first time made it into 2.0 (2015–2016 Katia knew how to cut some stuff.) But the time for quiet contemplation has passed us by, because Augustine is back online for good. It's time to lose a surrogate sister and gain a future husband, Spark. Everyone else... do whatever.

[luminousscammer]

all for myself

Midari Ikishima x fem!reader

note: i was doing another thing but this idea screamed at me to be written, i just know this b would get off with this. also this is self-indulgent lmao.

I'm aware that the fandom is kinda dead here but i wanted to post this anyway.

Warnings: smut duh, yandere-ish, slight dumbification and overstimulation, gunplay, i can't believe I'm saying this but POSSIBLY snuff? lmao

Wc: 1.3k

tags: @interstellarpumpkin

The first time you met Midari it was kind of… strange. She had already seen you before, gambling against other students who you almost always beat, you also had your losses but not enough to have a debt. From that moment on she couldn't take her eyes off you.

She would follow you to your classes and she even sent members of the beautification group to you, just to make sure you’re staying safe. You "accidentally" bumped into her in the hallway at school, she took that opportunity to say all kinds of compliments, she said that she always watched you from afar, she knew your schedules, even your favorite food, where you spent time when you wanted to clear your mind, etc.

For other people that would have been a red flag, that they should run from there as soon as possible!

But you didn't think that, on the contrary, you thought it was considerate and thoughtful on her part. She was completely stunned when she heard your response, it was the first time someone accepted her. From that moment on, you two became inseparable, her carefree and impulsive nature when gambling fascinated you, although, there were moments that made you worry, for example that time she played with Yumeko. When you saw the state in which she left her, you felt… jealous? But why?! If you two were only friends!!

The truth is that you developed a crush on her, everyone said that she was a freak, weird and obsessive, but that's why you liked her. You wanted to make her feel what Yumeko did, you wanted to hear her pathetically cry your name.

“If I manage to break you, you will be my girlfriend,” That took Midari by surprise, but didn't stop her from nodding like an overexcited puppy in less than a second.

XXXX

With hands tied at the wooden headboard and her legs around your hips, she whimpers as you ram into her, not even waiting for her to adjust to the strap. Bottoming out, she throws her head back and cries out your name, the sound of her whines drowning out your own moans. She can feel her heart rate pick up as you pull out almost all the way before sinking back into her cunt in one fluid thrust. Sobbing and wrapping her legs around your waist tightly, she raises her hips to meet each of your thrusts.

But this wasn't enough for you, coming to a halt, you reached out to open the drawer of the bedside table, Midari was about to yell at you to continue but as soon as she saw what you took out she swallowed her words.

“Let's make this more interesting, shall we?” The smile on your face was as twisted as any of the girls knowing that they had the upper hand, “Where were we?” Putting a single bullet in the revolver barrel, you gave it a spin and with a flick of your wrist you put it in its place.

Midari was speechless, from the moment she saw the gun, her mind and breath quickened, but this wasn't a bad thing, she couldn't wait for what was going to happen, thinking of all the possibilities her pussy clenched around your cock. Slamming back into her, you started a brutal pace, seeing her tits bounce up and down, her flushed face and teary eyes, and oh, don't get me even started on the sounds she makes, it was fucking music to your ears, so desperate and sinful.

With the hand that is holding the gun, you put it right above her temple, the coldness of the canon made her let out a pathetic whine. The sound of you pulling the hammer back, makes her keen into you, noticing her reaction makes you let out ragged breaths. At first you were wondering if this was a good idea, what if I accidentally killed her? ... It wasn't normal, but the way she squirmed under you, and the faces she makes, made you forget everything. Plus, you would be lying if you said that you didn't want to pull the trigger to see what the result was.

In an impulsive attack, you pulled the trigger.

Clank.

The sound rumbling in the dorm.

Her face screw shut, tears littering her lashes. “Y/N! Yes! Do it again! Fuck, do it again!” she cries out.

And you did, you did it nine times more, but you lost the count in that moment.

“Look at you, getting off to having a loaded gun to your head while being fucked dumb. You can't even talk properly anymore. Are you having a hard time, baby? Do you wanna cum?”

“Y-Yes! Please yes! I’m so close.” She moans like a slut for you, her words hitting something deep and fucking feral in the pit of your stomach. She's babbling nonsense as you hit her cervix over and over again, her walls clench and unclench around you, pulling the trigger one more time, with nothing but the clank sound coming out again, her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and combined with a few more thrusts against her spot she cums. Her nails bite into the heel of her palms, body going taught as her cunt flutters against your cock.

Your hips stutter hard as you chase your own high. Her pussy gushes warm around you, muscles spasming rhythmically despite the stretch of you filling her to her limits. She chokes out your name with a final gasp. You pull out before the oversensitivity can become too much, you crawl down her body. She's too tired to check what you're doing and assumes that you're just trying to get off of the bed to grab a rag.

You don't make a move to leave her side, though, and when the rough texture of your tongue draws a long line down her pussy, her eyes go wide. You repeat the motion once more before pushing your tongue into her and lick her cum out of her until she's all clean. Taking off the strap and straddling her stomach, you untie her hands with care, the skin of her wrists was red. When you were about to apologise, you didn't expect that she still had enough strength to throw herself into your arms with your back hitting the bed to hug you really tight.

Wrapping one of your arms around her naked waist, you let out a content sigh. “You know what this means right?” looking at you with an almost confused face, her cheeks suddenly tinted a vermilion color and showed you a smile that it wasn't like her. It was sweet, her eyes full of adoration, you could swear that if you stared a little longer you'd see hearts in her eyes. She lets out a little laugh and attacks you, peppering your face with kisses, it makes you feel full, wanted. You laugh at the ticklish sensation, happy that your work has paid off.

“I want you to myself,” placing both of her hands on your cheeks, she confessed. “I like you, I love you. I want to do everything with you, I never want to leave your side, if I ever died because of you I wouldn't even care, because dying by your side would be such a heavenly way to die.”

Now it was your turn to look at her, the tenderness in your eyes was the enough acceptance and confirmation that she needed. Without a single word, she places her head in your chest and closes her eyes, your arms cradling her like a baby. In that position, you both fall asleep with the security that both will be there for each other in the morning.

[fluffnstuffjojos]

Fluffnstuffjojos Masterlist

Started: 05.27.20 Last Updated: 5.29.20 Total Number of Works: 314 

**Notes: If you are sending requests, please make sure to read the rules first. There are characters within the masterlist for which I do not currently write for.

**ITALICS LINKS ARE NSFW OR BORDERLINE** 

Jojo Combo Posts (All Jojos or Multiple Jojos):

**Note these fluctuate between being everyone and only the ones I currently write for based on the date they were written! A mess! I may reorganize some day, but for now, feel free to browse! Mix of headcanons/scenarios 

Longest morning routines 

Thoughts on horror movies

Disney Princes/Princesses

Peppering Josuke/Giorno with Morning Kissies

Facetime Headcanons

Getting Postcards from Traveling s/o

Rainy Day Headcanons

Social Media Headcanons

Modern College Headcanons

Dancing to Smashing Pumpkins (Suggestive NSFW)

Incorporating s/o into Workout Routine 

Josuke and Joots s/o with a stand that manifests while they’re asleep

Falling for a drifter

Jotaro/Josuke/Johnny Reacting to Affectionate s/o

S/o with chronic Nosebleeds

Duckling Imprinting

Joseph/Giorno/Jolyne Insecure s/o

Autistic s/o who hates loud noises/crowds 

Jonathan/Joseph/Jotaro/Josuke Flexing to Impress s/o 

Reacting to a cheating s/o

Butt squeezes

S/o has no sense of direction

Male s/o in a wheelchair 

Talented Baker teaches Jojos how to bake

Reacting to s/o placing a flower crown on their head

Missing and/or trapped s/o

Reacting to s/o getting a grill 

Playing with s/o’s hair as they fall asleep

S/o appreciating Jojo’s bodies 

S/o doing their makeup 

Types of Youtube Channels

S/o decking a trash-talker 

Rescuing s/o who is the “damsel in distress” type 

Reacting to s/o biting them 

Distracting s/o before hitting someone (Gappy style) 

Jotaro/Josuke reacting to s/o blacking out/hitting their head 

S/o who wears crop tops

Wearing Jojo’s clothes and mocking them/posing playfully 

S/o dies, but they are unable to find their body

Crushing on the same gender

How they feel about s/o calling them “Jojo” 

Cop Josuke hunts Mafia Giorno

3-8 comforting s/o with their stand

Jojo Hugs 

Playing dead to prank/scare s/o 

Vines/fave videos  

Indulging in fashion with s/o 

Great-Grandpa Jonathan with kid Josuke 

Contortionist s/o 

Jotaro/Gappy/Josuke s/o kidnapped by enemy stand user 

Fave memes

Serenading their  s/o 

S/o dying without them being able to say goodbye 

catching s/o after they fall 

S/o makes homemade Valentine’s Day chocolate 

Spoiling s/o on Valentine’s Day 

Self-conscious, chubby trans man s/o

Absent Father Comfort 

Giorno/Josuke/Jolyne insomniac s/o 

Taking care of s/o on their period 

Helping trans s/o into their binder

Jotaro/Josuke - s/o dresses like a sukeban/female delinquent  

Boys finding out the girl they’re flirting with is into girls  

Jotaro/Johnny/Gappy s/o steals their hat 

Playfighting with s/o

S/o playing with their hair 

S/o with mental illness(es) 

Squeezing Jojo bobbies (the original is linked here too!) 

Onesies (original is linked as well!) 

Androgynous GF 

Jonathan raising Joseph 

Jotaro/Johnny mute s/o

Joseph Raising Josuke 

1-4 + Johnny strong/small s/o 

Jonathan/Jotaro/Johnny s/o with anger issues 

Danger-seeking s/o 

Clothes stealing s/o 

S/o has a destructive/intimidating stand 

Getting s/o in the mood (nsfw-ish) 

Assorted Character Combos Grab Bag 

Johnny/Diego/Gappy Confessions Headcanons

Jotaro/Jonathan/Polnareff Painful Period Comfort Scenarios

Jotaro/Kakyoin/Polnareff/Josuke s/o talking in their sleep

Kakyoin/Polnareff/Rohan/Gyro S/o with narcolepsy 

Josuke/Jolyne/Rohan coaxing depressed s/o out of bed

Jotaro/Gyro/Rohan cheering up sad s/o 

Josuke/Giorno/Polnareff 20 Nugget Challenge

Jotaro/Polnareff/Josuke/Okuyasu Slow Dancing with s/o

Jotaro/Polnareff/Josuke/Okuyasu crush suffering from Hanahaki disease

Johnny/Gyro/Jotaro with a s/o who is a saddle bronc rider 

Jonathan/Caesar cuddles/fluff

Caesar and Gappy s/o fears rejection when requesting affection

Jotaro/Josuke - s/o telling him they’re pregnant 

Jonathan/Kakyoin - s/o hates their body 

Female friend asks Josuke/Polnareff for advice on flirting with women

Dio and Jolyne trans s/o 

Jotaro, Polnareff, Josuke, Okuyasu saving s/o from an enemy stand

Jotaro/Joseph/Dio with beautiful s/o 

Jonathan/Josuke/Kakyoin comforting lonely/stressed out s/o 

Okuyaus/Polnareff/Caesar/Jotaro Powderpuff GF 

Jonathan/Dio/Johnny/Gyro first “I love you” from s/o 

Jotaro/Kakyoin/Josuke/Okuyasu motivating s/o to work 

Jonathan/Part 4 Squad being protective

Caesar/Okuyasu/Josuke/Dio Taking s/o shopping 

Jobros Mario kart 

Jonathan/Josuke/Okuyasu/Kakyoin Comfort

Caesar/Polnareff/Josuke/Okuyasu winning the lottery

Jonathan/Josuke/Okuyasu/Polnareff musical roles 

Jotaro/Josuke/Okuyasu kickboxing s/o 

Jonathan holiday headcanons & Okuyasu sex headcanons

Jotaro/Kakyoin/Josuke/Okuyasu Sports/clubs 

Jotaro/Kakyoin/Josuke/Okuyasu with s/o who just applied for college 

“You’re safe now, I’ve got you” Polnareff/Jonathan

“Hey! I was going to eat that!” Joseph/Okuyasu

Cakes for Jonathan/Josuke/Okuyasu/Gyro

Part 1: 

Dio trying to steal/win s/o from Jonathan

Jonathan Joestar

Headcanons: 

Starting a relationship with someone outside of the aristocracy 

Modern headcanons! 

Father and Husband Headcanons

Descendants 

Ghost Jonathan watching over loved one 

Date at the Opera

Scenarios:

Forever and Always (Jonathan contracts Vampirism and s/o vows to stay with him)

Valentine’s Day  

My Immortal  (immortal Jonathan finds his soulmate) 

Happy Honeymoon

Dio Brando:

Headcanons:

Using Rich BOI™ tactics to woo shy s/o 

“Pillarman” s/o who loves being superior/intimidating to him 

Scenarios:

Rather Harshly (Post-snapping at s/o comfort)

Impeccable Tastes (Dio has to feed from s/o) 

A Sense of Belonging (Jealous/Possessive Dio)

Part 2: 

Joseph/Caesar with a fellow Hamon user who is laidback and silly 

Poly Caesar/Joseph swing dancing with s/o

Joseph Joestar:

Headcanons:

Reacting to Holly’s Wedding 

Raising Holly 

Scenarios:

Fierce Protector (Protecting s/o from a BUG) 

Indifferent (Chasing a girl who isn’t Interested)

Caesar Zeppeli:

Scenarios:

“What’s wrong, darling?”  (comforts s/o with depressive episodes (feat. my bad art))

Direct Instruction (S/o teaching him how to play violin)

Part 3: 

Dio and Jotaro Fluff 

Polnareff/Kakyoin Comforting stressed s/o

Poly Jotaro/Kakyoin Comatose S/o post Dio Nonsense™ 

Poly Jotakak Valentine’s Day

Jotaro Kujo: 

Headcanons:

Comforting Anxious/Stresses s/o

Cheating on his s/o (ANGST)

BFF Headcanons

S/o who gets upset when he raises his voice 

Joots being CUTE 

Crushing on a himedere girl 

Tranquil/gentle s/o 

NSFW Joots (Obvi NSFW) 

Mothering s/o taking care of Part 4 squad = Jealous Joots 

small gf 

Jewelry headcanons

Singing in the shower

Pastel s/o

Scenarios:

Forgiveness (Post-Argument Fluff)

Toxic Behavior (Crush is Leery of how Joots treats Women)

Tidepool Gatherings  (Meeting a Mermaid)

Maritime Fun (Boat trip with s/o)

Just Breathe (s/o teaches Joot how to use hamon)

Joots Jr.  (Super smart s/o makes a robot)

The Shape of Water (Joots meets a fishy person) 

Homemade (Homemade birthday cake & kissy) 

Introductions (Jotaro introducing s/o to Part 4 squad) 

Cop a Feel (Accidentally grabs a boobie while helping)

No Place like Home (Takes stand user s/o home after they’re injured) 

Past Scars (Self-Harm Scars Fluff)

“You look so cute when you pout like that”

A Joestar to Die for  (Zeppeli descendant gives their life for Joots)

A Joestar to Die for Aftermath  (Joots loses his cool)

Kakyoin Noriaki:

Headcanons:

s/o appreciating him 

cute relationship headcanons (plus my cursed art)

Fluff headcanons

Scenarios:

Firsts (Male s/o First Kiss)

Spelling Trouble (Honors student Kak falls for delinquent school girl)

Spoiled Rotten Spoiling s/o on Valentine’s Day 

Need a... Dad? s/o is a single mother 

Jean Pierre Polnareff:

Headcanons:

Part 3 and 5 Fluff 

Himedere GF with a hidden vulnerable/lonely side 

Giving s/o a tour of Paris

Part 4: 

Oku seeing Josuke without his hair up for the first time 

Josuke and Okuyasu New Year’s Kisses 

WHOMST is Josuke/Okuyasu checking out with binoculars in the header???

Josuke and Okuyasu antics 

Poly Josuyasu taking care of sick s/o

Josuke/Okuyasu with a s/o who always steals their clothes 

Part 4 Squad with a non-verbal/reserved crush

Part 4 Squad Music Tastes & Bonus oldie but goodie 

Vacations with the boys! 

Boys in a band! 

Famous boys 

Josuke/Okuyasu being Hayato’s big bros 

Boys as firemen

Secret Santa 

Josuke/Okuyasu future careers/relationships/families

Josuke/Okuyasu sharing a crush who likes them both 

Josuke/Okuyasu sharing a crush poly relationship (cont. from original) 

Josuke and Rohan Comforting s/o during a rough time

Part 4 Crew Ideal S/o

Poly Josuyasu and s/o with Mario Party 

Poly Josuyasu with severely injured s/o

Josuke/Josuke’s gf/Okuyasu as a Ron, Hermoine, and Harry trio

Josuke Higashikata:

Headcanons:

Werewolf Josuke and Female s/o

Male Crush

Childhood Friend Mutual Pining

Soulmate AU 

Protecting s/o from catcaller(s) 

Helping/keeping s/o company while their mom is in the hospital

Mutual pining shy crush 

Rural s/o is baffled by Morioh 

Twin Sister

Scenarios:

Waiting Up (Josuke has a late night and you wait on him) 

Hiding a Part of You  (Discovering s/o has a secret stand)

Sting of Betrayal (Forgiving s/o for Betrayal)

“For your eyes only..” (Josuke gets a text (NSFW-ish)

Star Crush Mario Party Confessions with Crush 

Tentative (Hesitant to makeout and ruin the romance)

Missing Something (Comforting s/o grieving a sibling)

Make it all Better (Bad day comfort)

Got Moves (Dancing with a boi)

Mornings Like These (Josuke Fluff)

Taste of your own Medicine (s/o mimics his pomp with their own hair)

Deeper Pain (Can’t protect s/o from grief)

Sound of your Voice (Reading to s/o)

Soft Boy (S/o teasing “delinquent” Josuke for being a big ol’ softie)

"Breathe with me” (Anxiety comfort)

Romance Kinda Guy (First Valentine’s Day date) 

“I had a nightmare” 

Batter Up! (Softball/baseball gf)

Dog Hair (Corgi antics)

Little Helper (Tries to win his ex-wife back with their kid’s help)  

Bloodlines (Crush is Caesar’s grandchild)

Christmas Tree Murder (Josuke knocks over the tree) 

Sunshine (Helping s/o fall asleep after a bad day)

Disinterested (Falling for someone who isn’t interested back) 

Single Father (s/o dies and Josuke raises their daughter) 

Feline Overlord (Cat Hates Josuke) 

“I’m not jealous” 

“You can’t keep doing this.”

“This is, by far, the dumbest thing you’ve ever done” 

PS2 Squared (s/o and Josuke have similar gift ideas) 

Okuyasu Nijimura:

Headcanons:

Foreign s/o 

Wedding/Honeymoon 

Proposal Headcanons

Sweet/shy s/o 

Clingy Oku 

Driving, hugging, anger headcanons

Scenarios:

Getting a Kitten

Fluffy Morning Lovin’ (NSFW AS HECK) 

“Yell, Scream, Cry” (Angst Prompt)

Baked Goods (Baking with the GF) 

Long-Distance (s/o Flies to Morioh to meet for the first time)

“You aren’t dumb, Oku,” (Comfort/fluff)

Fixer Upper (S/o and Oku fix up his house)

Love Letters (Flustered Oku gives male crush a love letter)

Valentine’s Day Korean BBQ 

Meeting the Fam (Bringing home s/o for the first time)

“You’re not falling behind,” 

Entrapment (Rescuing kidnapped s/o) 

“Come ‘ere” (Using his stand with GF (light suggestive nsfw))

Care (Taking care of hurt s/o)

Scatterbrained (So excited he forgets to respond to a confession)

Spirited (Ghost girlfriend )

“You can’t die”/”I’m not losing you again”/”Hold me back!” 

“I may be an idiot, but I’m your idiot” 

Stray Cat Adventures 

Loss (Oku is Missing Keicho)

Rohan Kishibe:

Headcanons:

Flexible/athletic s/o 

Daddy Kink (NSFW) 

Blind s/o

Pianist s/o

Scenarios:

Unique (Comforting s/o insecure over their “cutesy” art)

First Valentine’s Day 

Transgressions (Getting a cat without his permission)

Valued (Receiving expensive gifts)

“It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion” 

Part 5: 

Giorno Giovanna:

Headcanons:

Reacting to a member of La Squadra defecting to join them 

Finding a former classmate is a member when he joins the gang 

Don Gio romancing an American Tourist

Raising Kids 

Scenarios:

Surprises (Finding out s/o is pregnant) 

Hanging On (Has twins, but one is in critical condition) 

Young Love (Falling for a younger Passione member) 

Part 6: 

Jolyne Kujo:

Scenarios:

“You look tired” 

Part 7: 

Drunk Johnny and Gyro Headcanons 

Johnny and Gyro on s/o’s birthday 

Gyro/Johnny Christmas/Holidays

Poly Johnny/Gyro/Diego convince s/o horses aren’t scary

Johnny and Diego trans boy Crush

Johnny Joestar:

Headcanons:

Valentine’s Day 

Kissing Headcanons

Scenarios:

Fall for You (Falling for female friend)

Left Behind (S/o leaving him for someone else) 

Jealous Type (Jealous over guys hitting on s/o)

Quality Time  (Fluffyness) 

“I could kiss you right now” 

Gyro Zeppeli:

Headcanons:

Fluff headcanons

Small/strong s/o 

S/o with chronic pain and in a wheelchair 

Scenarios:

Fatherhood (Finding out he’s going to be a dad)

Twists of Fate (Crushing on foreign executioner who hates him!)

Lady and the Tramp (Spaghetti Kiss)

Bundle of Nerves  (Nervous proposal)

Chance Encounter (Pretty Lady at the Bar)

Diego Brando:

Headcanons:

Petting and Feeding him ROCKS 

Show-rider crush

Having his boobies squeezed 

Scenarios:

Sharing is Caring (Sharing a bed with his crush)

It’s a Date (Dinner Date)

Thoughts of the Future (Dinner Date Proposal!!)

Part 8:

Poly Yasuho/Gappy

Gappy (Josuke) Higashikata:

Headcanons:

Falling for Female Crush

Soft spot headcanons

Scenarios:

Fatherhood (Finding out he’s going to be a dad)

[sableflynn]

Sable! Do you have a particular moment or a turning point you recognize, when you decided or were hit with 'fck it, I'm going in?' Essentially something that made you get over any and all things/perceptions/fears/anxieties/hate etc etc that may have been tying down your wonderful butterflies? So that you could just let us have all the indulgent content that you have been writing and sharing? Asking for... a friend. ;) [Eeloo] <3

hi cutie!! so i guess the path i took with creating stuff was like. for the longest time, basically my entire life starting from preschool, i have fallen asleep to sort of whumpy fantasies. i think a lot of people in the community had a similar experience! and it used to be fandom characters and then as i got a little older it became a set of ocs i inserted all the whump onto. it was something i kept 100% to myself and allowed myself to be totally self-indulgent with...and then october 2019 i found “my name is human” by @whump-tr0pes and her entire story of “woman gets kidnapped and tortured and rescued dramatically at the last second” that was EXACTLY what i was about, and she mentioned in her notes that david and nia were characters she used to “explore some whumpy tropes and feelings” and i kind of had this lightbulb moment of, wait there’s an audience for this sort of thing?? and so inspired by her i made this account, fully intending to just write my own self indulgent nonsense and not care what anyone else thought...but then i started diving deeper into the whump community and started getting that “ok but what they’re doing is ok but i’m the real weirdo” (mainly wrt lady whump and nsfw whump) and so i started to feel self conscious again...but then i made friends gdi but they’re wonderful lovely friends who i can say “what if...manhandling” and they’re all like HELL YEAH!!! anyway i’m grateful that athena’s stuff was the first i found bc it was lady whump and nsfw and helped me feel less self-conscious about those particular things. idk what the point of this ramble was and i don’t have a particular answer for you other than that everyone who has written something before me is a trailblazer who helped me feel a little more confident posting my own work, and every bit of encouragement and cheerleading and kind kind feedback i get makes my life!

[b-rainlet]

📓📓📓📓

- the-scarecrxw

(Since you sent 4 of those emojis I'm gonna go off but I'll stick to one in this answer and make seperate posts for the others aksnsns)

I can't give you anything Jonathan centric (that isn't Tommy/Jonathan, one of my fave rarepairs) but Jerome features in lots of my AUs.

This one is one of my faves that's entirely self-indulgent and if it ever gets written it's probably gonna be the longest fic I ever published (Again: If it ever gets written):

I gotta apologize in advance, it's just a fun little AU I haven't put too much thoughts into in terms of plotting so this is gonna be A. Long, B. Messy and C. A little chaotic

- First off, you gotta understand that @nsfwitchy2 Me had some fun with a pretty nonsensical and definitely not canon-compliant AU where Jerome and Jeremiah have three Mums (Tabby, Lee and Barbara, who all date) and live with them and Barbara Lee as their little sister.

- Ecco also lives with them, she sees herself as both the twins' gf more than a genuine part of the family tho (for now)

- (Meanwhile at Wayne Manor Alfred and Jim date and are very tired parents of Bruce and his clone 514A, in this AU - and pretty much every AU - nicknamed Brook)

- (Selina kinda goes back and forth between living at Wayne Manor or at Lee's place)

- Also, everyone dates. The twins. The clones. Eccomiah, Jecco, Batcat, Valeyne, Wayleska, they're all fucking

- Which isn't THAT important for this particular AU but I figured I'd give a warning xD

- This is mostly my attempt to give Tabitha some more backstory? Just...how I personally see her character and how I could see her end up if things would've went differently after S2

- The google docs file is called 'How Tabitha started being a Mum while disregarding canon completely' lmao

- Like her current life involves having 4 kids (if you count Selina) and two wives and that's a hell of an AU and I just like to overthink things and play with the way things would have needed to have gone in canon to have her 'end up' like this

- Also I can see her struggling with having a family all if a sudden (that isn't a manipulative brother or a weird cult)

-Especially if that involves Motherhood

- So on one hand it's a 'S2 until now' fic, explaining what happened to her in my canon

- But also - mostly because I find that easier to organize in my brain - it's interwoven with a 5+1-esque fic of all her children calling her 'Mum' (and her getting emotional over that)

- So it switches back and forth between the past and the present but for rambling's sake, I'll start with the past

- She still leaves Theo behind and flees with Silver but she keeps Silver close instead of immediately sending her away

- And her and Silver get taken in by Fish after they leave Theo because they have nowhere to go and Fish loves taking care of strays

- (Fish, who probably didn't end up in Indian Hill but rather lives in hiding until she is ready to strike against Penguin)

- She refers to herself as Liza's Mother in canon, you can't tell me she wouldn't instantly adopt Tabby and call her 'Honey' and give her motherly advice while Tabby tries to be all bite but actually enjoys somebody taking care of her for once

- Selina🤝Tabby

'Trying so very hard all the time to not show how soft and insecure they are'

- Actually, I'd start diverting from Canon even sooner aksnsjd

- Well not full on changing canon, but I'd...pepper in some stuff

- Like some scenes of her back with Theo and the Maniax

- Mostly her talking to Theo about Jerome's planned murder, which, yeah, she knows it's been set in stone from the beginning but that doesn't mean that she isn't talking about alternatives where he doesn't get killed off

- And Theo's like "Don't tell me you're going soft. No one will miss him. He was just a boy. Not worthy enough to be remembered."

- And later on she betrays him and goes 'I remember him'

- Anyway, they stay with Fish for a while but Tabby doesn't wanna keep Silver in Gotham

- So she sends her back to the school she went to before coming to Gotham with Theo (but makes sure their weird cult can't get their hands on her there)

- And Silver wants her to come with but Tabby says she has some unfinished business

- Aka she just doesn't wanna leave Barbara (who is in a coma atm, if Memory serves right)

- And Tabby's reasoning is that it's not safe in Gotham but really, she thinks she can't be responsible for another person

- "She needs a mother. A Family. I can't give her that." - "You are her family."

- So Silver's out of the picture and Tabby hangs with Fish until Barbara wakes up and they get together again (and never ever seperate)

- Also there's no Butch/Tabby because that was unnecessary as fuck

- And I gotta be honest, I haven't thought more about canon because Butch/Tabby alone makes my head hurt already but somehow they start dating Lee

- Who brings Jerome into the relationship because I sure am fond of Lee being Jerome's Mother (like as in, I have several wips with that concept alone not counting this one)

- Jerome probably came back to life after S3 and Lee fought to have him not be treated like a violent criminal but rather a child who was taken advantage of and after his release from Arkham (where she visited him and made sure he got some proper treatment) it seemed natural to have him live with her

- (But also he's still a criminal aksnsjs, you can see how much I thought about this)

- (Sue me for sticking to the heartfelt scenes and avoiding the mess that is plotting)

- Tabby and Barbara already had Selina and through Jerome, Jeremiah and Ecco were added et voila! Their Family is complete

- (Why exactly Barbara Lee exists if Tabby and Barbara have been non-stop dating since S2 I can't tell you, I simply think she is neat and I like the idea of big brother Jerome)

- (This AU? Self-indulgent? Why would you ever think that?)

- In the present however she is dealing with what is mostly referred to as 'feelings'

- Mostly panic at realizing that the bunch of weird children she's been living with are seeing her as some kind of parental figure

- Because suddenly they all call her 'Mum'

- Unsurprisingly the first one to call her Mum is Jerome at breakfast

- She's reading the newspaper and there's an article about a hostage situation the twins planned and he goes 'Mum, are you done with that? Can we see?'

- And they snatch it from her and argue about how they didn't even make the front page while Tabby nearly chokes on her coffee

- And of course she breaks down talks to her wives about it later while they get ready for bed because no one ever called her 'Mum' before

- Barbara's braiding her hair, while Lee's off to the side, getting ready for bed and it's very domestic and I am very gay

- But neither see it as a big deal because both of them have been called Mum before (by Jerome at least. Like. Immediately upon meeting them)

- So she's trying to be nonchalant about it because it's only a big deal if she makes it one

- While also not being able to deny the warm feeling that spreads throughout her body when Jerome keeps calling her 'Mum'

- Miah and Selina on the other hand are both hesitant to call anyone Mum

- Miah cause of Pride, Selina cause of her Mummy Issues

- But they both do at some point

- I think I have more notes on this SOMEWHERE but I kinda wanna have Miah call her Mum while he's ill (because we all know he'd be super fussy and want attention 24/7)

- So she humours him and while he's close to falling asleep - and she's totally not carding her fingers through his hair because she isn't soft or anything - he mumbles: "Thank you Mum" and she melts

- Selina would be more angsty

- Like, maybe it's her birthday and she disappears for a while (as she tends to do) but Tabby (who's closest to her) knows how hard this day is for her (since again her Mum isn't there with here and looks for her and brings her back home but doesn't make a big fuss out of her birthday

- Just...lets her be, gives her space but also lets her curl up close to her and maybe Selina doesn't call her Mum on that exact day

- But it's the day she realizes she wouldn't mind calling Tabitha her Mother, so she hesitantly tries it out a while later (maybe days, maybe weeks, however long it takes for her to feel comfortable with it) and they share a smile

- Then there's Barbara Lee, but she barely counts because she's a toddler and calls everyone 'Mummy'

- Even her father ajsnsnsn

- The last one would be Ecco because I have a very soft spot for Tabby and Ecco being close

- Ecco's rather formal with them for the longest time (she calls Barbara, Lee and Tabby 'Ma'am' for the most part because she may like them, but she doesn't think they see her as family. She's just the token girlfriend).

- So there's a scene where they connect, possibly over Tabby's hand and Ecco's head since I hc that Ecco gets headaches and migraines a lot (considering that she still gets shot in the head by Miah, like I said, this AU isn't necessarily the most bullet proof in terms of linear timelines)

- But so is Gotham so-

- So there's possibly a scene where Ecco's headache is getting super bad and no one's around (especially not Miah to dote on her) and Tabby awkwardly tries to bond by telling her about her hand and how she can't feel much (is a little clumsy with it) and Ecco immediately imprints on her like a duckling

- Maybe it's even the first time anyone reached out to Ecco in a way that feels genuine, especially without the twins or any of her (various) other partners being present so now she's willing to die for Tabby

- Which ends in her also calling her 'Mum' (while she keeps calling Lee and Barbara 'Ma'am' and Lee's so mad ajsnsjdj she was trying so hard to bond with this kid but couldn't quite get it right and you're telling her her socially pretty clumsy - but still wonderful of course - wife managed with just one conversation?? Slander

- And of course because I can't stop myself, there would be even more tidbits here and there of Tabby overcoming her previous way of living (as in, thinking caring or showing emotions is weakness) by having her reminisce a LOT about Theo

- For example by having Jerome climb into bed with her while Barbara's sleeping and Tabby is waiting for Lee to come home

- Lee works as a doc in the narrows which may be a little illegal, but the people didn't just stop needing help after her Queen of the Narrows arc was over, so I vote she keeps at it (and is held in very high regard for it by pretty much everyone)

- Tabby always stays up until everyone is home because she likes knowing where everyone is and that they're safe while Jerome has frequent nightmares and wanders around the house, so this isn't a rare occurrence

- And sometimes, they talk Theo

- "You miss him?" - "Don't know."

- "I wish he was still alive so I could kill him." - "....Me too." - "Which one?" - "...Both."

- (ajajsbssj this is all just copy pasted and cleaned up a lil', leave me and my pretentious way of writing dialogue alone)

- Tabby also has a lot of interludes where she thinks about what growing up with Theo was like/her childhood in general

- How she always protected him from other children bullying him and how they swore to have each other's back but how in hindsight, she was the one doing all the dirty work for him, helping him fulfill his dream and enact his revenge

- Realizing that he probably never cared for her, not like she cared for him

- There's also allusions to them having sex because you cannot tell me they did NOT have sex

- And it ends with Tabby realizing that she is quite happy with how she ended up, even if it's neither how she thought she would ever live nor what her old self would've even wanted, possibly seeing too many attachments as 'weak' judging by the way she canonly used Butch for convenience sake at first

- And yeah, maybe now she can provide the family - the Mother - somebody else desperately needs

- So she brings Silver home

[iwrestlenow]

Many More To Die - Chapter 4

TITLE: Many More To Die (Chapter 4)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: Roman discovers that even the power of a king has its limits--but at least he has the power to help Logan in one critical fashion.

Logan is a needy wreck, and can't figure out which way is up, and as desperately as he needs someone--one man--to hold his hand through it all? It only makes things worse somehow.

Meanwhile, through all of this, another chess piece steps out of the shadows and onto the game board--and he's not going anywhere until he gets what, and who, he came for.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), future Moceit (Patton/Janus) and Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: Panic attack, but that’s it for this chapter. It’s mostly me having feelings, being TOTALLY UNABLE TO STOP WRITING WHAT THE HELL SOMEONE SAVE ME XD, and more self indulgent garbage that just felt good to write. So there. :P

Also, no betas, we die like men.

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more…hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

“Lord Janus? I want this man dead.”

“Certainly, Your Majesty.”

“Please—mercy, Your Majesty!”

“Now hang on there just a gosh darn, berry pickin', mother lovin' moment, buster! Janny, if you know what's good for you, you will just stop with this nonsense and put the flippin' sword down!”

Roman would have burst out laughing if he wasn't fighting so hard to keep his composure. It could hardly be helped—Patton came up to Logan's shoulder, but only just, and was standing in his cell with his hands on his hips, glaring at the captain of the royal guard like he was a child being scolded for a broken dish.

Janus hardly looked intimidated—but the fact that he stilled after drawing his sword, leaving a terrified guard trembling against the bars of the cell next to Logan's was telling. Seven years, Lord Janus had served as the head of the assassins' corps before retiring to become the captain of the royal guard. Roman had heard stories, but never met the man until today, which was hardly unusual given that Janus was a drake—the son of a human and a dragon. They were notoriously gifted shapeshifters, even with a handicap like his.

Lord Janus was powerful, deadly, and highly skilled at remaining an enimga...but a hobbled child necromancer in a cell had the power to stay his hand.

Janus raised an eyebrow at Patton, but finally glanced at Roman.

Roman nodded. Janus refocused on the guard, pushing the tip of his sword against the hollow of his throat, hard enough to draw blood.

“Majesty, I beg you! I don't want to die!” the guard begged.

Roman let out a bemused little laugh.

“How strange,” he replied as calmly as he could manage, “I was under the impression you did, given the fact that you refused, a second time, to obey a direct order from your king.”

“The Necromata must be bound! It's the law!”

“I am the law!”

Storming up to the guard, Roman let his emotions fuel him—exhaustion, grief, anger, confusion, and the tearing, unspeakable ache that throbbed through him every time his gaze ventured too close to the open door of the cell where Logan still leaned.

The wail he'd let out when Roman pulled free of his grip to order the cell door opened was going to haunt his sleep. The way he stood now, so carefully still, features so meticulously schooled into calm, unfeeling lines, was going to rob him of that breath of life Logan had only just returned to him.

“I am the king now, and I am the ultimate authority.” Roman spat. “Now, I fully understand the need to shackle a prisoner being removed from his cell, but as far as I am concerned, this man is no longer a prisoner here.”

“You can't--”

“I think you'll find that I can.”

“Your Majesty.”

Roman turned at the sound of Logan's voice, cool and even but too quiet, hoarse and thick with the tears he'd finally managed to stop from streaming down his face.

“The law is such that the king cannot overrule it.” Logan declared with deceptive calm. “The Necromata, once imprisoned by the royal family, can only be pardoned for the crimes of their birth with the blessing of the people. A vote, if you will...and no such vote has ever been successfully passed.”

“How do you know this?”

“I have been here for ten years with little more to do than read. I have the entire legal code of the Kingdoms and the criminal rules of order memorized, along with the family tree of the royal family and all available star maps of the area.”

Roman wanted to scream. He wanted to hit something—for a terrible moment, he wanted to order Janus to proceed with the guard's execution for real, rather than just trying to make a point.

Then inspiration struck—bright, blinding, and blessed as it filled him with light.

“My order will still be obeyed.” Roman announced. “These two necromancers—they may not be pardoned, but they will be imprisoned at my pleasure...and it is my pleasure to have them confined to guest quarters upstairs. Have extra guards posted at all available palace entrances. They are not to leave the grounds until the vote has been passed. Successfully.”

He shot a look at the offending guard.

“And the first person to shackle either one of them without violent provocation will be hung at dawn.”

Janus lowered his sword and slid it back into its sheath—the cane he'd been carrying with him—before moving to Roman's side.

“Bit extreme, don't you think, Majesty?” he murmured once he was close enough to ensure that only Roman would hear him.

“My father is dead, Lord Janus.” Roman shot back bleakly. “I have yet to shed a single tear for him--'extreme' feels like an appropriate response right about now.”

“Touche. Of course—and it has nothing to do with the traumatized necromancer you're apparently well acquainted with?”

Roman didn't answer as he moved towards the open door of the cell. Standing before Logan, he extended his hand...

...then suddenly realized that was a bad idea as he put his hand back down again.

********** More.

Logan could hardly string a single coherent thought together around the constant chant in his mind, his marrow, his soul for the prince to touch him again. He couldn't let him, not when it was so agonizing, fire and pressure and somehow affecting every nerve in his body when it was focused on such a small area...

More. More. More.

He didn't understand why restraining himself was so hard. It hurt, it was clearly doing him some kind of physical and psychological harm...and yet he wanted. Needed.

He couldn't remember ever experiencing the sensation.

It very nearly caused another panic attack when the prince dropped his offered hand—and that was another problem entirely, standing before a cell door standing wide open, and the use of the word pardon being thrown around like it wasn't capable of changing the world as Logan knew it—but the pause that seemed to last for an eternity must have only been a few seconds long.

Because a moment later, the Green Man—the prince—was reaching into his pocket and producing a pair of pristine white gloves. A missing piece of the military uniform, how had Logan not noticed? He usually noticed things like that...

When he finished tugging them on, he offered his hand to Logan again. He said nothing...just waited.

Logan shook with the force of effort it took to reach, slowly, to accept the offered hand. The gloves blocked some of that heat from skin to skin contact—and when he gently folded his fingers around Logan's, barely any pressure, it was still intense...but better.

“All good, Berry?”

Logan looked into his eyes sharply, the name ricocheting around in his skull in a manner he hadn't experienced in literal years—not since he'd first discovered his power was awakening again, all concussive force and electricity crawling against the underside of his skin.

All at once, the years fell away, and he was asleep in his cell that first terrible night, dreaming of every monstrous shadow transforming into a protector as green eyes lit the dark.

He opened his mouth to answer yes, he was fine—then realized...

“I do not know which of the princes you are.” he admitted with a bemused huff.

That got a smile from the other man—too brief, far too brief before it fractured to pieces, a crystal goblet slammed to the floor, raining shards of razor sharp light.

“Roman.” he replied. “Pr—King Thomas Roman II, but you may address me by my name.”

“Hardly acceptable, is it, Majesty?” Janus mused.

“Given that my life is currently in this man's hands—and the future of my father—I'd say he's earned a few niceties, Lord Janus.” Roman announced, raising his voice to ensure everyone within earshot was aware of it. Logan had a strange feeling that Lord Janus spoke up for precisely that purpose, to make his situation known.

Logan's, not Roman's—Logan knew that anyone with a shred of loyalty to the king would probably kill him if given the chance. There was no question that someone would likely accuse a necromancer with ties to the crown prince of the murder. Fear for Roman's safety would keep him protected.

Janus was that kind of man, shrewd and shameless—Logan knew precious little about Prince Roman, but to discover that he was equally blessed with the gift of strategy was...intriguing.

“Lord Janus, see to it that Logan's cell mate is made comfortable, and shown around the north wing of the palace. That is where I would prefer they spend the bulk of their time.” Roman declared. “I will take custody of this prisoner myself. When you are done, I want you, the dungeon master, the head prison mage, and a heart healer in the war room, immediately. Send for my brother as well.”

“Yes, Your Majesty—but I cannot send you alone.” Janus replied. Surveying the guards in their presence, and grimacing with impatience, he finally took a few steps down the corridor and flagged down another guard.

“You! Fetch the cadet from the graveyard patrol, now! I want him on the king's detail.”

Roman nodded his thanks, finally turning his attention back on Logan. Between those green eyes and the warm pressure enfolding his hand, ravaging his nerves and making his chest throb with pure emotion, he wasn't sure he could stand it much longer without losing his composure.

“Are you all right?” Roman asked quietly, stepping closer and into Logan's personal space. Strangely, Logan realized he could feel that as well, radiant heat and buzzing static crawling across his skin, too close and not enough and everything.

More. More. More.

“I am not.” he admitted. “Hardly unusual, given that touch starvation is a common condition among the Necromata, to say nothing of the Claim.”

“The Claim? What's that?”

Logan's mouth snapped shut, very real panic rising in his chest again.

“Whoah—Logan? Logan, breathe. Look at me, you need to breathe.”

The Claim. He knew, knew what Logan had done, was holding his hand and Logan could feel it, but now he'd spoken about the Claim, about his power, and he was going to die this time...

...two...three...four...hold for one...two...three...four...five...

“That's it, Logan. There you go, can you do it again?”

...good job, now again: in for one...two...three...four...

Pressure. Pressure, pressure, pressure, everywhere, pressure pressure unrelenting pressure...

“Hey!”

Logan blinked, attention snapping to the young man suddenly standing in front of him. He was nearly Logan's height, with straight black hair that hung in dark eyes, flinty as stone.

“Name five things you can see.”

“I...what?”

“Do it. Five things.”

Logan shook his head, and almost immediately his gaze was drawn back to Roman.

“Green Man.” he managed to reply. Roman smiled, and Logan felt that mantra start tattooing itself against the inside of his skull, blotting out the fear and panic.

“Okay, keep going. Let's keep going.”

Logan only realized they were moving because Roman still held his hand, was tugging him with the barest of pressure—and Logan's traitorous body followed. Between the cadet, demanding Logan name more things he could see, along with touch, smell, hear, and taste, and Roman's silent encouragement, he found himself moving out of his cell and towards the stairs of the dungeon.

Moving up each stair. Moving through the gate, and into the palace...moving, traveling, with only Roman's hand to restrain him.

Then he was in the palace, above the dungeons...and if he never saw the outside world again, Logan still felt like he could call himself a free man.

********** “Thank you.”

The cadet flinched a little, looking towards the king. “What?”

“Thank you.” King Roman repeated, still crouched motionless by the chair the prisoner had all but collapsed into. He'd basically passed out when they reached the war room, but didn't seem to be in any distress—just exhausted and overstimulated.

“That trick, focusing on his surroundings—it's greatly appreciated.” he went on, his gaze never leaving the sleeping man's face. He still held his hand, like he might vanish if he let him go. “How did you know it would work?”

The cadet had to grit his teeth for a second, finding himself watching the sleeping prisoner despite his best efforts not to. He looked...well, he looked like shit, and it was hard. It was so hard to watch, but he had to do it.

He was finally here, and he had to make sure that he didn't screw up again.

“I have anxiety.” he finally replied, keeping his tone even. “Nightmares, panic attacks, the works. My brother used to help me through them with tricks like that. He'd have me focus on my surroundings, or make me pick out colors—he even made me a special blanket to help me sleep. It, uh—it might be good for him? The guard who got me mentioned that this necromancer can feel your touch? If he's not used to contact, it could...”

“You'd be willing to do that?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Go and fetch it, then.”

“Sir, I was ordered to stay with you.”

“I'm the king. I overrule your orders.” King Roman replied.

The cadet lifted his gaze to the king's face, his stomach sinking when he realized he was being stared at. Hard.

Ohhhhh, shit.

“You don't call me 'Majesty.' Why?”

The cadet tried to be discreet about taking a steadying breath as he shrugged. “You have a pet necromancer now. All due respect, but I don't think you'll have the job long.”

“What do you know about necromancers?”

“I know they're not evil. Only reason I'm still here is that you seem to know it, too.”

King Roman nodded, gaze flicking down before it returned to the sleeping necromancer.

“Cadet...do you know what a Claim is?”

The cadet swallowed thickly. No...oh no.

“It's a binding ritual.” the cadet replied. “The Necromata are capable of manipulating death, but when they can't? They take it.”

“Away?”

“No—into themselves. They take the victim's dying breath, infuse it with their blood, and return it to the person it belongs to. That way, when the victim's time comes, they survive it.”

The cadet looked to the necromancer again.

Gods, Loganberry—what did you do?

“And the necromancer dies in their place.”

To his credit, the king paled, his free hand lifting to touch Logan's hair like the cadet itched to—so close for the first time in ten years, but he couldn't even comfort him.

He had to stay put. By the door, protecting the king and his charge.

After a decade, Virgil was finally, finally within reach of Logan in every way that mattered, and he would die before he jeopardized his one chance to save him.

Virgil was the one who got his big brother caught and imprisoned in the first place—he was damn well going to make sure that he was the one to set things right.

[hellas-himself]

More Than Enough

Remember that self indulgent crack ship holiday fic I was writing about Cassian and Feyre? And how I couldn’t seem to mix the past with the present? 

It’s a fic now. Still in the same AU just like... the year before. Leading up to the cheesy ass nonsense it is now. Originally it was going to be angsty at first but I think we have enough of that in our real life. If you haven’t read the crackship holidays featuring these two dumbasses, start here or on AO3.

Also. I promise all my other fics are not being abandoned. 

I’ve had a playlist to listen to when writing them but it is so incredibly inappropriate if you understand spanish. and i haven’t made it onto spotify yet. But this song reminded me of them and that’s where the title comes from. Which is funny because Alina is who i put beside Toni Mafud as Rhys and Feyre whenever fan casts come up. ANYWAY. 

Let’s follow Feyre as she thirsts after her best friend. 

.

.

.

I blame it on the music.

Cassian lost his shirt about half an hour ago and is doing pull ups. The garage door is open, letting in the cold winter air. My fingers are cold but I don’t like wearing gloves when sketching. I had been working on hands and eyes but once he tossed his shirt… It’s not like I’ve never seen Cassian without a shirt on before. Between him and his brothers, they seem to always find an excuse to not wear one. But the difference is I don’t find myself daydreaming about what it would be like to run my fingers down their backs.

It’s definitely the music.

Even if I didn’t understand the words, the beat itself is way too sensual to not be about anything else but sex. But the lyrics and Cassian’s sweaty, half naked body mixed with the fact that I haven’t had sex in months is probably the worst mix. I am not supposed to be imagining sleeping with my best friend.

I clear my throat, startling Valo who was falling asleep at my feet.

“Sorry, baby, I need a drink.”

I set my sketch book and pencil down on the crate beside my chair.

“Would you get me a drink, bunny?” Cas breathes out and my face flushes all the more. I didn’t need another detail to this stupid daydream.

“Yeah,” I squeak and head into the house. I already know his post workout drink recipe by heart. I drink ice cold water while the blender is going.

Cassian is suspended in the air, holding his entire body parallel to the floor with his hands. Goddamn him. He drops his head back so that he’s looking at me upside down and he smiles.

“I love you,” he says and I roll my eyes.

“I’ll love you more if you don’t bust your ass.”

He chuckles and just to drive the nail in the coffin that is my desire to be the reason he’s making noises like that, he slowly lowers his body and resumes his pull ups. I set his cup on the table where he has his tools and go back to sit down.

Cassian drops down and walks over to his mat to do his cool down stretches. A new song comes on and the words are so filthy that I find myself staring at him. His tattoos. My ex-boyfriend had always believed I was into Cassian- and I wasn’t. But I wasn’t blind and I’ve been at his house almost every single day since Thanksgiving- he is always without a shirt.

It’s just the music.

“Plan on drawing me?” Cassian asks and I blink. I look away from his tattooed chest and to his face. He is smirking. Shit.

“Uh. Yeah. What better way to do anatomy studies than with a living reference?”

“Anatomy, huh?”

He flashes me a grin before he walks over to the table for his drink.

“Hey, what do you want for dinner?”

His question distracts me from looking at his ass.

“Uh, whatever you want… I’m not really craving anything.” Except you. I sigh and cover my face with my hands and lean over. I need a cold shower.

“Hey… You alright?” he asks softly.

I nod and slowly sit upright.

“I’m just… I’m fine. I promise.”

He doesn’t believe me but he walks over to grab his speaker.

“I love this song,” he says and starts to sing along to it as he gratefully goes back into the house.  

Cassian meets me in the living room now dressed in a white tee and grey sweatpants. He lifts both my legs up so that he can sit down. This is normal. I always use his lap to rest my legs.

“I ordered Greek, I hope you don’t mind.”

“I told you, I’m not craving anything except-”

Fuck my entire life. Cassian raises a brow and I toss him the remote.

“Why don’t we finish your show so then we can watch my movie?”

This pacifies him and thankfully, his stupid show is so violent and bloody that all thoughts of fucking my best friend fade from my mind.

*

Our annual Christmas party is tonight and I’ve found an outfit. It is the kind of outfit Tamlin would have told me not to wear. It’s blood red and insanely inappropriate for winter with its spaghetti straps and super low neckline. Mor says it’s the perfect thing to wear after a break up and just the thought of all the pictures we’ll take with me and Cassian together makes me believe it.

I hang the dress up in the closet of Cassian’s bedroom. The heels are set beside his dress shoes and I can’t help but think about his reaction. Of dancing with him all night and coming back here and-

“Bunny!” 

“I’m in the closet!”

I hear him chuckle. 

“Shut up,” I call out and walk into the bedroom to find him pulling off his shirt. I feel my face go hot.

“I’m going to shower… do you want me to use the other bathroom?” 

“What? No, this is your house,” I say far more casually than I feel. “Besides, we’ve got time, we can share.” 

I want to punch myself in the face. Cassian starts to grin. 

“The shower might be a little too small for the both of us but I’m sure we could find a way to-”

Cassian laughs when I smack his arm. 

“Not exactly where I like being spanked but I’ll take it.”

“Oh my god, Cassian.”

He laughs and disappears into the bathroom. I force myself to leave the room when I hear the water.  

*

Cassian walks into the kitchen in nothing but a towel, his hair wet, water dripping down his chest. He walks over and takes the sandwich from my hands.

“Fuck, we’re out of beer,” he mutters as he opens the fridge. I grab the second sandwich I made, expecting him to steal from my plate and force my gaze up. On his stupidly gorgeous face.

“I can go get some,” I say but he shakes his head and walks over to take my cup of iced tea.

“Are you cool with us taking a cab tonight?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.” 

Cassian drinks from my cup and sets it down before pinching my cheek. 

“It’ll just be you and me,” he says softly. “So don’t worry about it.”

I blush at this and Cassian kisses my forehead. 

“I’m gonna go get dressed. Thanks for the snack,” he says with a wink and walks away.

*

I keep my makeup rather muted; lip gloss and the usual winged liner. Nude eyeshadow. Cassian picked out the highlight and I have to admit, he chose well. My hair isn’t going to get any better, so I leave it in loose waves rather than the curls I’d wanted. I’ll leave that to Mor. I feel nervous, this is the first time since the breakup that I’m going out with all of our friends but Cassian will be there, and that’s enough to ease my nerves. Almost.  

“Our ride is here,” Cas says as he walks into his bedroom. He stops and just stares. I approach him and hold out my ID card and debit card, needing to ignore the way his attention has me feeling.

“I don’t have pockets.”

“What?” He blinks and looks down at my hand. He laughs and pulls his wallet out. “You only need your ID.”

“Maybe so,” I say and reach out to smooth down the collar of his shirt while he puts my cards away. I remember my lip gloss and put it in his back pocket, giving him a wink.

Cassian holds my hand when we go outside, helping me down the steps and the driveway. It’s a regular occurrence, but I blush when he opens the door for me. And when he slides an arm around my shoulders when he sits down beside me. We take a bunch of pictures and call Cassian’s parents to check on Val- as if we hadn’t seen him an hour ago. 

When we get to the club, Cassian holds my hand as we walk inside. Cassian and the boys are all friends with the owner, so we get to skip the line.

“Where are we going?” I ask as Cassian leads us up to the VIP lounge.

“Meeting up with Rhys.”

“What’s he doing up here?”

Cassian chuckles. “You know Rhys never passes a chance to be extra as fuck.”

I can’t argue with that.

Upstairs, Cassian helps me out of my coat. His fingers brush my skin and my mind takes a swan dive into the gutter.

“What do you say to a few drinks before we go downstairs?” he asks as he takes my hand. The bouncer outside the lounge acknowledges us with a nod.

“Yeah, I could use it.”

Cassian flashes me a grin and then opens the door.

“SURPRISE!” Everyone shouts and I find all of our friends standing under a Happy Birthday banner.

I am at a loss for words and Cassian laughs, bringing me further into the room. I’d completely forgotten about my birthday, I hadn’t cared enough to even think that anyone else would. But Elain is here with Az. So is Rhys and Lucien, Amren, Varian. Viv and Kallias, too. I’m separated from Cassian as I’m hugged and kissed by everyone. I realize Tarquin and Cresseida are here as well. Rhys is the one who breaks open the first bottle and we all stand around the little table to take shots.

“There is a cake,” Elain says as she hands me another shot. “But that’s later.”

“Later?”

She winks at me and shouts for Azriel.

“That’s my favorite song!” she exclaims and her husband happily ditches his brothers to go out and dance with his wife.

Lucien and Rhys pull me in for another hug as the others begin to trail down to the dance floor.

“You look good enough to eat,” Lucien mumbles and I laugh.

“Don’t tell me you’re already drunk, Luce.”

“We may have pregamed at the house,” Rhys admits. “But we took an uber! It’s okay.”

I roll my eyes.

“You both suck. I’m going to go find me two other cute boys to dance with. Boys who would have invited me to pregame with them and no amount of flirting is going to fix that.”

They begin to whine and I laugh, holding onto Rhysand’s forearms as they keep me caged between them.

“Alright! You win!” I say with a laugh and look over to find Cassian looking my way. He smiles.

I want to ask him to dance but Mor pulls him away before I can open my mouth.

We drink and dance and drink and dance and drink some more. I feel light headed and everything makes me laugh. But I haven’t danced with Cassian yet and that’s enough to dampen the mood. I push my way through the crowd until I find Cassian at the bar. I take the empty barstool beside him and sit down. I order myself a margarita before turning to face him.

“And where have you been all night?” I ask and Cassian smirks.

“Enjoying the night,” he says and takes a sip of his drink.

“Without me?”

I don’t understand the look in his eyes as he takes a sip of his drink. He sets the glass down and leans forward. I didn’t really understand just how short this dress was until he lays his hand on my thigh. If I turn my chair completely, if he moves his hand just an inch more…

“Yes,” he says and kisses me cheek. “But I think I’m about to enjoy it more now.”

“Why?” I manage to say. Cassian’s hand brushes my thigh as he sits upright.

“I’m about to go dance with my best friend.”

“Are you now?”

My drink is set before me and I grab it, chugging it down as Cassian slides off his chair. He turns mine so that I’m facing him completely and puts his hands on my hips.

“If she says yes, of course.”

I finish the last of my drink and set down the glass.

“When have I ever said no to you?”

Cassian grins.

I have danced with Cassian many times. At parties, at the beach, at clubs and bars and festivals. At his parents’ house. I should be used to the feeling of his body against mine, of his hands on me while we dance but not like this. I want nothing more than to take him back up to the lounge and push him down on the sofa or go find an empty bathroom stall.

But I don’t.

Birthday cake and alcohol isn’t the best mix, but I haven’t felt this alive in months. My face hurts from laughing, from smiling. My vision is spotty from all the pictures we’ve taken but I don’t care. Everything is right in the world.

“My feet hurt,” I complain and sit on Cassian’s lap.

“Want me to rub your feet?”

I shake my head and lean into him.

“No. Not until I’m showered.”

He laughs. “Okay.”

I sigh when he wraps his arms around me. He is so warm and smells so good, I want to stay this way forever.

“I think the birthday girl is done for the night,” Rhys says teasingly and I realize I was dozing off. I look up to see Rhys standing there with a stupid smirk on his face.

“Fuck you,” I say and curl up in Cassian’s arms. I feel his hand holding my dress down from showing everyone else my ass.

“Tempting,” Rhys says and then shoves his hands in his pockets. “But I think I’ll pass.”

I don’t think much of the look Rhys gives Cassian in favor of playing with his hair. I take way too much satisfaction in the knowledge that not everyone gets to do this, and that he enjoys it. Cassian seems to win whatever silent staring contest he and Rhys were having and Rhys rolls his eyes and goes after his boyfriend.

“You’re making me sleepy, bunny.”

“Good thing we’re going home together then,” I say before my mind catches up. But Cassian only chuckles and hugs me a little closer.

*

Cassian and I are a laughing mess as we stumble into the house. I lean on him to step out of my heels and he laughs as I shrug off my coat and toss it at him. We’re both trying to catch our breath, and I swat his hand away when he tries to tickle me again.

“I’m taking a shower,” I breathe out and walk off but he stops me.

“Wait,” he says and I turn to find him smiling.

“What?”

“Happy birthday,” he says softly and pulls me in for a hug. “I promise I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”

“Hm… you really know the way to a girl’s heart, Cas.”

He pinches my side and I yelp.

“Go shower,” he says and kisses the top of my head.

“I won’t be long.”

My shower is clumsy and not at all relaxing. My feet hurt. So I put lotion on my body and grab the bottle of perfume that is on the dresser, except it’s not perfume but cologne. I shrug and put on Cassian’s Nirvana tee shirt and double check I actually have underwear on before I go looking for him.

“Cas?” The house is dark save for the light coming from his room. “My feet fucking hurt.”

He says something but I don’t understand it. His room is open and I step inside, finding him lying on his bed. He’s got basketball shorts on and his hair is loose.

“Bunny!” he says as if he hadn’t seen me all day. “I almost busted my ass in the shower.”

“Me, too.” I say with a laugh. “Maybe we should’ve showered together. It would’ve been safer that way.”

“I like the way you think, Archeron.”

He holds his hand out to me and when I’m close enough, he pulls me into bed with him. “You smell good.”

I snort. “I smell like you.”

“Exactly.”

I swat his arm but he ignores it, putting his arms around me.

“My feet hurt,” I complain, hoping he’ll make good on his promise.

“Just stay here,” he says simply.

My heart stops and starts too fast.

“Like… sleep here?” I ask too quietly.

“Mhm.” He goes quiet for a moment and then groans. “I forgot to turn the light off.”

“I can do it,” I say.

“No… Stay here.”

He goes quiet once more, and I let myself relax. We haven’t shared a bed since we were kids, playing video games until Adela would force us to go to bed. I smile at the thought and rest my head against his chest.

“Goodnight, Cas,” I say quietly, my eyes getting heavy.

“Goodnight, bunny,” he says and lets me go to stretch. Then he wraps his arms around me again and moves us so that we’re on our sides. He presses a kiss to my forehead and I close my eyes, letting the warmth of him lull me to sleep.

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@mythicaitt @bookloveaffair @nalgenewhore @candid-confetti 

[like-the-wings-of-butterflies]

This Moment In Time (Racetrack Higgins x Reader)

Summary: Upon moving into your first apartment with Race, you’re reminded of the moments that led you to where you are

Warnings: Some mild angst quickly followed by sweet sweet fluff because I’m an absolute sucker for it

Word Count: 2,244 (this is longer then any of my usual stuff wtf)

A/N: I KNOW I’M A QUEEN BLOG BUT I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS AND DIDN’T FEEL LIKE SETTING UP ANOTHER BLOG TO POST IT SO ENJOY SOME OF MY OTHER FANDOM NONSENSE

A.K.A - I rewatched Newsies for the upteenth time (god bless you disney +) and it sparked an idea which is only a tiny little bit self indulgent

Feedback and comments are always appreciated! ♡

“So this is it.” You breathed into the darkened room, a smile dancing on your lips.

Race placed the burning candle in the centre of the one room apartment before rising to his feet again and grasping hold of your hand. The gentle flickering glow revealed that the small apartment. It was neglected to say the least, paint peeling from the walls, dust-encased windows and the odd squeaking floorboard; certainly a step up from the lodging house however. “I know it ain’t what we were dreamin’ of, not even close, but it’s-“

“It’s got a roof and it’s got you,” You finished for him, squeezing his hand in assurance with an honest smile despite him barely being able to see through the darkness. “It’s perfect. Nothin’ a bit of cleanin’ won’t fix.”

Truly, you couldn’t help but fall for the mess that was Racetrack Higgins. When you first showed up on the doorstep of the lodging house at the age of 13, it was Race that volunteered to take you under his wing and teach you the fine art that was selling newspapers. Staying as his selling partner permanently wasn’t exactly part of the plan, either was becoming one another’s best friend, but the pair of you couldn’t imagine selling with anyone else; having grown too accustomed to each other’s company.

He’d always flirt with you - as he would with every other person who’d give him the time of day— flattering you with compliments and cheesy pick up lines at every opportunity. You’d flirt back of course, not being able to resist the handsome blonde’s charm, but at the cost of catching feelings; no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, a childhood crush steadily emerged, turning the heads of the other newsboys.

But as the years progressed, you both matured into young adults. Your experiences bringing you closer together as you grew fonder of one another day by day.

Never in your entire life did you think you’d be living anywhere else but the crumbling walls of the lodging house or in one of New York’s damp alleyways. Yet here you were, hand-in-hand with your fiancé, settling into your first home together. Many were shocked that you were engaged at such a young age, but neither of you could truly see yourselves without the other in your life. Now too old to live in the lodging house, Race ironically managed to find work operating printing presses, and you as a server at Jacobi’s. In a unlikely twist of fate, you managed to earn enough money to move into the small apartment and support yourselves, all while keeping a close eye on the other Newsies.

“Should we check out the penthouse?” Race grinned ear to ear, running to the window upon your nod. He wrestled with the frame for moment before it opened with a satisfying ‘crack’ that echoed through the apartment, before stepping out onto the fire escape.

“M’lady~“ Race offered his outstretched hand with a charming smile, helping you step onto the raised surface. Your breath hitched as you saw the landscape in your surrounds. You were about four floors up which made the view expansive, and you suddenly became keenly aware of how many beautiful sunrises you’d be able to watch from your current position. You’d been in Jack’s penthouse on a couple occasions, but never just to sit and admire the view.

“How the hell did we make it here Racer?” You breathed in awe as you watched lights and lampposts decorate the otherwise dull streets of New York, like little stars in a blackened sky.

Race wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a sweet embrace, your back pressed against his chest and his head resting on your shoulder, “I was just the prettiest Newsie you’s had ever seen and you’s couldn’t help but fall for me,” He teased, pressing a long kiss against the side of your neck as he giggled lightly to himself.

“You don’t think growin’ up or working together our whole lives had anythin’ to do with it?” You jested back, reaching a hand behind you to fiddle with the curls upon his head as you closed your eyes and leaned into his embrace.

“Absolutely not. But the strike?” He mused thoughtfully, “That’s when I realised I loved you.”

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

It was no surprise waking up to Race sitting on the cold floorboards beside your bunk the night after the strike had been announced. Your beds weren’t too far from one another and Race always slept lightly, often being the call of comfort whenever anyone was having nightmares. He gently shook you awake while brushing away the tears that stained your face, smiling lightly once your eyes opened.

“What’s goin’ on Doll?,” He whispered out, careful not to wake the others, “Why you’s havin’ nightmares?”

“I’m scared what we’re doin’ is gonna get us all hurt,” You croaked out into the darkness, doing your best to hold back a sob. “That we’s gonna end up in the Refuge.” Nobody was oblivious to the chances of the strike ending in violence, the stakes were high; you were only a group of kids fighting against one of the most powerful men in New York after all.

Race’s hand stilled on the side of your face, his warm palm flat against your cheek grounding you and bringing you a sense of comfort. He could see in your eyes just how scared you were.

“I’m scared too,” He admitted before pausing, seemingly collecting his thoughts, “But we’s gonna be okay. Jack and Davey are smart, they’s know what they’re doin’.” He vowed, taking hold of one of your hands and rubbing his thumb against your knuckles.

You both sat in silence for quite some time, both too distracted by your thoughts swirling around your heads. As you felt your eyelids growing heavy, you lightly tugged on Race’s arm who brought his eyes up to meet yours.

“Stay with me?” You queried, eyes hopeful.

Without so much as a second thought, he lifted the thin sheet covering your body before sliding into the small bed, his chest pressed against your back, “Anythin’ for you (Y/N).”

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

A few days later, when the bulls attacked, you were an absolute mess; much like the others. In such a short amount of time, your entire world had flipped upside down and everything was shrouded in a new sense of seriousness.

Of the entire group, Davey, Mush, Albert and yourself had come out relatively unscathed - save for a couple bruises - meaning you’d been tasked with patching up the others who weren’t as lucky. You’d just finished tying up Les’ arm into a sling, only as a temporary measure however, just to stop the energetic boy from exercising it too much until he got home. You bargained on the fact that Mrs Jacobs would have a far better fix to his seemingly broken arm, knowing that if worst came to worst, the family could afford a doctor.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” You grinned softly as you walked towards Race in the back corner of the lodging house, shrouding himself in the shadows of the late afternoon sun.

“Ha ha.” He imitated, his usual playful attitude absent as he refused to look in your direction.

Something wasn’t right.

With your bodies facing each other, his legs hung over the edge of the table he was perched on as you remained standing. After a few moments of unmoving silence, you lightly tapped his knee, asking him to move so you could stand between his legs. He complied, but kept his eyes secured to the wall on your right. Slowly, you reached out to cup his jaw with a gentle hand, tilting his face to meet yours. You face fell the instant you saw the extent of his injuries.

His left eye was swollen shut, with hints of black already forming on the delicate skin. His chin was tinged an unforgivable red from where he’d wiped away the blood from his busted lip and damp trails ran from his watery right eye.

He’d been crying.

Your own tears welled up when he looked you in the eye, and you found yourself biting your lip to stop any from falling.

With your other hand, you grasped hold of the brim of his worn hat and placed it on the table beside him, letting the mess of curls fall lose against his face.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded solemnly, bringing a hand up to wipe away at his own tears before resting his head against your chest and wrapping his arms around your back, “You?”

“Just shaken up.” You stated, wasting no time in wrapping your arms around his shoulders and placing your chin upon his head. The pair of you stayed like that for an extended period of time, without anyone questioning you. It was a hard day for everyone, no one needed to make it any harder. After some time, the sun had set and the lodging house was quieter then ever before. You longed to sit down and fall asleep yourself, your legs sore and aching. But you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb the heavy sleeping form of your best friend. The years of denial on your behalf, stating that you hadn’t caught feeling for Race were long forgotten now.

The things you’d do to make that moment last forever.

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

A few days later, you and the other Manhattan Newsies had recovered for the most part. Physically, everyone were well on their way to healing, but emotionally there was still a fair way to go. Crutchie was still in the Refuge and Jack was still missing but everyone had managed to rest up while Davey reassessed the group’s future movements.

While the others sat glumly in Jacobi’s, you’d decided to go for a long stroll around New York to clear your head, musing the thought of visiting Crutchie in the Refuge. He was one of your closest friends, so sweet and so caring with an equally as vibrant personality, the thought of him in such a wretched place brought tears to your eyes.

You’d helped Jack smuggle food and blankets on too many occasions to count; how difficult could it be without him?

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the shout of your name from a long way down the busy street. Race’s figure came into view quickly, his chest was heaving as he sprinted down the cobblestone footpath towards you. Immediately, you panicked, thinking Race had been caught stealing cigars again and the cops were on their way but much to your surprise, he slowed as he neared you. Rather then desperation being painted across his features, his face held joy. Pure, unadulterated joy.

“We’s in the papes (Y/N)!” He gasped out, bending to place his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

“What are you talkin’ about Race?”

“Katherine got us in the paper!,” He heaved, sweat glistening on his forehead. He pulled the rolled up newspaper from underneath a strap of his suspenders, before unrolling it to the front page and holding it out to you, “Look! That’s us!” He beamed, pointing a finger at the image underneath the headline: ‘NEWSIES STOP THE WORLD’.

In your slight state of shock, you glossed over the story and mentally took note to personally thank Katherine later on.

You actually made it into the papes.

“You’s know what this means?” You queried, your smile transforming into a bright grin as you grabbed hold on Race’s hands, tucking the paper under your arm.

“We’re famous.” He finished for you, his grin matching yours.

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

“Newsies of New York City.” Jack addressed from the top of Newsies Square, Joseph Pulitzer at one side and governor Theodore Roosevelt at the other. It was nice to see him back where he truly belonged, the so-called ‘King of Manhattan’. You could feel your heart beating painfully in your ears as you awaited the news, the anticipation making every second feel longer then what it actually was. Race’s hand was tight in your grasp as you sucked in a final breath, “We won!”

The chorus of cheers that sounded was deafening. It was finally over. After two ruthless and unforgiving weeks of striking, and everything had finally come to a close.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realise you were holding and turned towards Race. Race grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, laughing and chorusing while you were grinning ear to ear yet entirely speechless.

When he pulled away, you were slightly disappointed with the loss of contact, but when his arms around your body were replaced by his lips against yours, the world melted away. Slow and soft yet fiery and passionate the same time, as unpredictable as Race himself. His hand moved to cup your jaw and draw you closer, your arms finding their way to wrap around his neck.

When you pulled apart, there was stars in both of your eyes.

“I love you (Y/N).”

“I love you too Racetrack.”

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

You sighed lightly at the fond memories, feeling incredibly grateful for all that had happened in order to bring you to where you were.

“We’s really made it huh?”

Race briefly chuckled into your shoulder, before raising his head and placing another long kiss against your neck, “We’s really made it.”

[byronblogs]

For the Fanfiction thing? If that's still viable... I'm not sure about anything ever. But! Underswap Papyrus gets sick?

Flu Season

Oh my gosh this was so fun to write! I got a little carried away and wrote and edited it in one sitting. I hope you like it as much as I do!

This is the second fanfic in the series of fics I plan to write (the one a week thing) and I have so far enjoyed writing them. I hope everyone likes them!

Go ahead and keep sending in requests, I haven't chosen anything for the coming week yet, so if nobody sends in requests I'll do something self-indulgent.

Anyhow, I'll shut up now. Here's the fic!

    Of all the stupid things for monsters to be vulnrable to, it had to be human illness. Stretch thought grumpily, rubbing his aching skull. Skeletons don’t even have any of the organs to get sick! Magic is so overrated. Thanks to this lack of organs, skeletons were forced to deal with being sick in a different way, to cope with the virus, their magic would send terrible aches and pains through their bones, it made it nearly impossible to function some days. He meandered slowly to his room and shut the door, falling flat on his face on his bed and regretting it immediately as his head pounded sharply in bitter retaliation. 

    “Papyrus!” Blue whined from downstairs, loud as ever. It made Stretch’s skull pound. He loved his brother, he did, but if he wouldn’t quiet down a little…

    “Papy! There you are Lazybones! You are supposed to be going to work right now.” Sans groaned, leaning over the edge of his brothers bed and practically yelling in his face. Paps buried his head under his pillow. 

    “Sans, please quiet down…” He whined out, his bones starting to ache as bad as his head. The tone had Sans worried. 

    “Papy, are you alright?” Sans gently lifted the pillow to see his brother’s eyes scrunched shut in pain.

    “I’ve just got a headache, Sans, just let me sleep it off.” He grumbled. 

    “A headache?” Sans questioned loudly, wincing when his brother flinched and lowering his volume. “Here, let me help.” he removed the pillow and gently placed his hand down on the side of his brother’s skull, lighting up the room with a soft green light as his healing magic kicked in, taking away most of his brother’s sharp headache, leaving behind only the aftershocks of the pounding. 

    “Thank you.” Stretch sighed in relief, sitting up slowly and rubbing away the aftershocks of the pain from the back of his neck.

    “You got sick, didn’t you?” Blueberry frowned at his brother, keeping his volume down.

    “Yeah, it’s… it’s not that bad though, just a cold.” He shrugged, sighing, “You’re gonna be late for work, Sans, you should get going.” 

    “Absolutely not!” Sans cried, “You’re sick, and taking care of you is far more important than anything I could do at work! I’ll phone Alphys and tell her we won’t be in!” He declared, standing up and pointing to the sky before promptly trying to walk out the door.

    “No!” Paps yelped, catching his brother’s wrist, “Really, it isn’t that bad, I was just gonna head out for work now that the headache is gone.”

    “Nonsense! You’re ill and in need of care! It is my job as your brother to take care of you!” Sans stated, poking his brother in the stomach, as it was about as high up as he could reach when the taller was standing (as rare of an occasion as that was). 

    Paps flinched away from the poke, the action sending electric shocks through his spine and making him smile briefly. Sans dropped his hand after his brother stepped back. “No, Sans,I’ll be fine, you should go.” Paps rubbed the back of his neck.

    “Or…” The shorter grinned, a devilish look adorning his face as he came up with a cruel idea. “I could always make you accept my aid.” He stepped closer to his brother.

    It took Papyrus no more than a couple seconds to realize what his brother was talking about. “Sans…” He stepped back, “Don’t you dare do what I think you’re about to dOOO-!” He cried out as he tripped over his bed and fell flat on his back atop the mattress. His soul promptly turned blue and he looked up at his brother.

    “Too late.” The shorter chuckled brightly, pouncing at his brother and getting to work immediately, digging playfully into Papyrus’ ribs. 

    “No! NohohoHOHOHO! Nohot the rihihihihihihibs! Ohohoh gohohohod! Sahahahahans! Stohohohohohop ihihit!” Paps cried out in mirth, curling in on himself and kicking his legs, struggling against the magic that held him in place as he tried to roll away.

    “Let me take care of you without complaining.” Sans demanded stubbornly, fluttering down Paps’ ribs to knead into his magical sides. 

    “Nohoho! Ihihihi’m fihihihine!” He cried, arching his spine and throwing his head back into the sheets of his messy bed. 

    “I’m not surprised you got sick, Papy, living in a room this messy there must be all kinds of stuff to get you sick!” Sans lectured camly, as though he wasn’t slowly dismantling his brother’s sanity. The fingers jumped to Papy’s exposed neck, fluttering around where his ears would have been had he been human, drawing forth adorable giggles. 

    “Wahahahit! Nohoho! Mwehehehe!” it was the laugh, the one Papyrus hated. “Sahahahans!” He whined, trying to shove his brother off and only receiving magic pushing his wrists away gently. 

    “You know my terms, Papy.” Sans stated flatly, digging into his brothers exposed underarms suddenly. 

    “Gah!” He yelped, falling into helpless laughter that only intensified when Sans moved to his brother’s hips. “Dahahahahamnihihihihit!”

    “Language, Pap.” Sans chastised, slipping his hands under his brother’s hoodie and assaulting his spine. This turned out to be Papyrus’ last straw as any sanity he had left disappeared into a puff of smoke. 

    “NonononoNO! NOHOHO! SAHAHAHAHANS! ENOHOHOHOUGH! NOT THE SPIHIHIHINE!” was all he could coherently get out before dissolving into kicking and hysterical laughter, shoving weakly at his brother’s wrists. It wasn’t until Sans leaned his head down and blew a raspberry on his brother’s spine that Paps finally caved. “OKAHAHAY! OKAHAY! I GIHIHIHIVE! PLEHEHEASE, SAHAHAHANS!” Paps had tears running down his face by the time his brother stopped, and he was still laughing when his soul was released and he could roll over. 

    “That’s more like it!” Sans smiled brightly, hands on his hips.

    “You’re evil, you know that?” Paps chuckled, eyes growing heavy. 

    “What can I say, you needed some convincing.” Sans smiled, Paps nearly falling asleep before there was a loud crash downstairs, jarring both of them to be alert.

    “Sans!? Pap!? Are you two lazybones in here!? Why aren’t you at your posts!?” They heard Alphys’ familiar voice call out from the living room, allowing both of them to let out a relieved sigh, Paps falling back down to the mattress. She must have kicked the door in.

    “Oh! Right, I was going to call her!” Sans exclaimed, rushing out the door. Paps listened to the far-too-loud conversation from his place. “Sorry Alphys! I meant to call you! Papy and I can’t come in today! He’s terribly sick and I need to look after him!” Sans called over the banister into the living room.

    “Sick? What do you mean sick?” Alphys’ steps echoed up the stairs as she marched toward the shorter brother.

    “Yes, he had a terrible headache. I had to heal him and then convince him to let me take care of him.” Sans sounded a little concerned. Alphys stormed into Pap’s room. 

    “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting sick!?” Alphys demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

    “I- well…” Paps gulped, sitting up.

    “Wait, convince? How did you convince him? He never let’s anybody help him!” Alphys blinked, turning to Sans. 

    “Oh! He’s just super ticklish.” Sans smiled cheerily.

    Alphys got an evil look on her face. “Oh, is he now?” She turned to the taller brother as his eyes grew wide.

    “Alphys… No. No no no. Not you too! Come on!” He scooted back to sit against the wall.

    “I think it’s time you pay for all of your slacking-off.” Alphys grinned, moving toward him with wiggling fingers.

    “NonononoNO! WAIT-” 

    And once again, the house was filled with the panicked laughter of Papyrus the skeleton. 

[kiraziwrites]

Ugh, you guys, it has been A Day. I got home at one in the morning, because I left the office at five before midnight (this is NOT usual for me) and of course the fucking train was running local by then, and the streets were a slushy snowy windy mess, and possibly the only reason I didn’t stay in a foul mood the whole way home was the delightful preview I got of @firesign23‘s advent romcom fic.

And after that cheered me up, I spent the rest of my very late and slow commute finishing this moody bit of nonsense that I started writing over the weekend when I was supposed to be untangling my uncooperative WIP chapter. See under the cut for eight hundred and fifty words of extremely self-indulgent tropetastic post-nightmare h/c in Winterfell. I am very tired and can’t edit for shit right now, so apologies for any typos. Did I mention this was self-indulgent and tropey af? Anyway, if that’s also your jam, enjoy.

dreamed of you

It’s the fourth, maybe fifth night he’s spent in her bed that Jaime finds himself waking abruptly, scanning the dim chamber with a soldier’s instinct for something wrong. But there are no dark forms lurking in the shadows, no figure slipping through the door—there’s just the harsh, ragged sound of Brienne’s breathing, giving way to a low, desperate moan. She’s still asleep, but her back and shoulders are rigid, locked with tension, and in the faint glow of the embers he can see her eyes darting rapidly under the closed lids—and he realizes that it’s there, the wrong thing, it’s whatever she’s seeing in her mind’s eye. So he reaches for her arm, to shake her awake—and a heartbeat later he’s flung on his back, pinned and choking, a muscled forearm over his throat and her other hand holding his good arm fast to the bed.

“Brienne,” he croaks, gasping for air, “Brienne, wake up,” and it takes another two heartbeats, or three—his pulse loud and sluggish in his ears—before her eyes begin to focus, her gaze stumbling back from whatever she was seeing to the present, the room, to him. And then her face floods with realization, and heat, and she makes an awful little sound—she lurches off him, as quickly as she’d pinned him down, and hurls herself away, to the far end the bed, curling in on herself, hands coming up to cover her face.

“Brienne,” he breathes, again, once he’s dragged air enough back into his lungs. He levers himself up, feeling the searing imprint of her grip as if it’s been branded on his skin—he’ll have bruises, he thinks, in the morning, and a shocking jolt of desire goes through him at the thought. But it dissipates just as quickly at the sight of her, huddled in a miserable lump, out of reach.

“Are you,” he says, and stops, because she’s obviously not all right, and he has no idea what the fuck to do about that, and he’s not sure if he should touch her, not until he understands what’s wrong. She’s not used to sharing a bed, he knows—of course, neither is he, not like this, night after night in a row.

“Don’t worry,” he says, after a moment more. “You didn’t hurt me,” he tells her, trying to sound steady and reassuring, even though what he’s actually thinking is you did, a little, but I liked it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, sounding small and humiliated, and oh, he can’t have that, so he makes himself chuckle and say, “My fault entirely, Ser. I ought to know better by now than to startle a knight awake like that.”

She uncurls a little, the tension in her easing just a fraction, but she still won’t look at him, and she’s trembling a little, from the battle-ready tension burning off, or she’s shivering—she’s bare, they both are, all the covers knocked aside in the tussle. So he reaches for the furs and leans over just far enough to draw them back over her, up her gooseflesh arms, moving slowly so as not to startle her again. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t shy away, so he keeps his hand there, waiting, feeling the skitter of her pulse at the juncture where her throat and shoulder meet.

She takes a deep breath, and then another, and he recognizes it clearly enough, the way she’s pulling herself back together.

“Wights, or dragons?” he asks, light and conversational, as if he’s inquiring about how she prefers her tea. “It’s usually fire, for me, although not always from a dragon.” He doesn’t elaborate; she knows enough of his past to fill in the rest, and he’s not going to mention the other things he dreams about: the children, everyone he’s loved and lost, all the possible fates of the few left to him now.

“Neither,” she says, quietly. There’s a pause, and then: “Locke’s gang,” she tells him, like she’s admitting to something, and amid a prickle of surprise and discomfort, he realizes she is. Oh, she’s bold enough facing down an icy death with a sword in hand, his lady knight, but she hates to reveal any weakness. He thinks of her baring her teeth at the bear, bloody and defiant and unwilling to show her tormentors any shred of fear. He draws his hand across her collarbone, then, gentle, until his thumb can reach the scars on her shoulder, caress the faint white lines.

“It’s strange,” he says, “that I’ve never dreamed about them taking my hand. The memory is vivid enough when I’m awake, but it doesn’t haunt me in my sleep.” He pauses, watching her. “But I’ve dreamed about—that I didn’t make it back to Harrenhal in time.”

Brienne’s eyes are wide and dark, deep shadowed pools drawing him in. She doesn’t say anything, just looks at him, steady, for a long moment, and then she shuffles closer, until their heads are sharing the pillow, and he loops his arm around her back and draws her close, holding her warm against his chest, waiting for sleep to come claim them once more.

[marvel-lucy]

The Walking Disaster, chapter 4

All chapters are on the Walking Disaster Masterlist ...

As always, I’m writing this too fast, not editing, and not paying attention to anything, so it’s not good. Definitely writing as distraction to myself rather than quality at the moment, sorry x

I have successfully avoided Steve for nearly two weeks now. According to Nat, I should own up to my failings and sucker punch anyone who dares to laugh at me, but it’s not really my way, so instead I’ve turned on stealth mode.  I stand behind my door, squinting through the eyehole to check the coast is clear, then I’m out, down the stairs and outside on my way to work in seconds flat. I haven’t tripped once so far. I collect my post at 2am, and I don’t buy coffee out. I don’t even order pizza to be delivered, in case I open my door at the same time as Steve. I’m cooking instead. Two of my fingers are currently bandaged, and I may have lost part of an eyebrow, but it’s OK, I cut myself bangs to hide it. Then I wore a cap to hide the bangs….

Anyway. The point is, I don’t know why it’s got to me. Well, I do.  I’ve lived in this small circle of friends for so long now, and they accept my calamities.  They know that for every time I trip over and break something (cup, TV, bone) I’ll pick them up if they’ve got a broken heart. For every time I spill something on myself, I’ll let them spill their secrets on me and I won’t tell (my own, I’m not so good at keeping). For every bit of rambling nonsense I blurt out, there’s a good heart behind it. Ah, maybe I’m talking myself up too much, but what I’m trying to get at is that they accept me for being a bit of a disaster area, and that’s nice.  But now there’s these new people in the mix, and… I want them to accept me. No, that’s a lie. I don’t want to be tolerated, and be an amusement that’s accepted. I want them to like me. To think I’m cool and beautiful and smart and fun. And I can’t do that with a purple bruise on my forehead, or the inability to pass a field sobriety test when sober (don’t ask. It’s another thing).  So I’m avoiding Steve. In the hope that – I don’t know. That in the next two weeks I suddenly stop walking like a new-born giraffe? That he gets his memory wiped in some horrific accident and doesn’t remember the sight of me upside down over a box, or walking into a door, or spraying coffee on my far-more-attractive best friend?  I don’t know, why are you expecting logic. You’re my internal monologue, you should know better.

Nat’s currently being my spy. She’s great at this. She and Bucky hit it off after the coffee shop meeting (and while they all waited in the ER waiting room for me to be cleared of concussion). Swapped numbers, and they’ve met up twice – once for coffee (without me there, so it was a lot cleaner) and then for dinner and a movie. She came round after the coffee, and before the dinner, to fill me in. They’ve been texting apparently and sometimes she sends me screenshots. It’s all very sweet and sickening and normal. I want sickening and normal. Ugh.  While she’s snuggling up to Bucky, she’s also sounding him out about Steve. He’s single apparently, is very sweet and respectful, and a bit of a knight in shining armour. He’s also, according to Bucky, a jerk, reckless, and the world’s expert in waiting too long for love. None of this makes my crush any less soul-destroying. I feel like I’ve had a building dropped on me.

So that’s why it’s Saturday night, and Nat is out with Bucky again, and I’m sitting by my open window, staring at the skyline and indulging in some major self-pity.  At least I have company tonight.  Not human company, everyone I know is out actually living their lives instead of burying themselves for shame, but the apartment cat has decided to visit.  She belongs to the super, but she obviously sees the building as her own, so if the window’s open, she’s up and down the fire escape and sniffing around to see what there is to eat.

I’ve given her some tuna, even though she’s too tubby, just so she’ll sit and I can talk out loud for a change. She’s got tuna, and I’ve got wine. Or I did. The bottle seems to be surprisingly empty, so I can only assume the cat’s helped herself while I wasn’t looking. Only possible explanation.

So here I sit, less than sober, let’s say. Cat is on a cushion next to me purring, and I’m leaning out the window listening to the sounds of the city and blathering on about my failings and my crush. I’m all why can’t I be normal and cool like Nat? and nobody likes me the way they like Nat and he’s so hot and all muscly and has lovely eyes.  You know, eloquent. Anyway, the cat’s obviously had enough of it after the first hour or so, because she gets up and looks at me with disgust, then hops out the window onto the fire escape. She never even said thank you for the wine.

I’m kinda hanging out the window, rubbing my fingers together and doing that ‘pss pss’ thing that people do so cats can ignore them, and she walks away. She walks along the short length of fire escape that separates my window from apartment number four. That separates my window from only the window of Steve flaming Rogers, and then. She. Walks. In.

I swear she looks back at me before she jumps down, and winks, but anyway, she walks into his open window that is about three feet from my open window. The window I’ve been baring my soul through, at an alcohol-enhanced volume.

Oh sweet Jesus, let me die now.  I can feel cold sweat trickling down my back, and my spine is tingling as embarrassment runs up and down it.  Maybe he left his window open before going out on a date with some beautiful woman. I mean, Bucky said he’s reckless. Leaving your window open in New York is pretty reckless. Maybe he’s eaten something really bad and spent the whole evening in the bathroom. That’d be good, right? Not so much for him, but for me. Maybe he’s secretly deaf and has been doing some amazing lip reading this whole time. Work with me here, make me feel better.

As quietly as I can, I close my window and walk to my bedroom. Then I lie down, pull the duvet right over my head, and scream.

So here’s the thing. I love the city at night. I know that orange glow from street lights is just light pollution, and the sound of police sirens is probably a bad thing, but it just feels cool. Like I’m living in some movie. So I like to sit by the window on warm nights and soak it in. I love the feeling of breathing in that sun-dusty evening air. I had bad asthma as a kid and there’s still a pleasure in taking a big breath in. Saturday nights are good for me, I’ve relaxed from the previous week’s work, but I don’t have to gear up for next week yet, so it’s the sweet spot where I can be me.

According to Bucky, I should be out clubbing, drinking, meeting women, but I’ve never been that guy. I’m waiting for the right partner, and I’m just not ready for what Bucky gets up to. Not that he seems to these days. This Nat seems to have got to him. Can’t say I blame him, she seems nice, and she’s pretty, but she’s a bit too perfect. Seems to have a lot of walls in place so you don’t know if you’re seeing the real her. Bucky’s having fun, but I want real… I want someone who’s just themselves, even if that’s not perfect. God knows, I’m not perfect, but I try to be a good man, and I just want someone to make me smile.

Sheesh listen to me. This is why right now Bucky is out with Nat, and has just sent me a blurry picture in a text that could either be him dancing, or doing something I don’t need to see. And me, I’m sitting here, wrapped in a blanket like I’m 95, and sketching by the window.  I’m also quite far down some beer that I forgot I had, and I can’t quite make out the number of bottles on the floor, but it’s more than one, and they’re mostly empty. I don’t get tipsy easy, but these ones must be stronger than normal, because I’m losing track of time, and the world’s a bit blurry and I’m half-asleep when a sound snaps me back to myself. It’s a voice from next door. THE voice from next door. The one I’ve found myself thinking of, and unable to think of an excuse to hear it.

And then my brain tunes into the words, and I could kick myself.

‘Ugh, Cat, why can’t I be like Natasha, then he’d like me…’ and ‘ I’m a walking disaster, nobody wants that, that’s why people want Nat’ and ‘God those muscles of his kill me. Can you imagine, Cat… hey, where are you going, psss, pssss’.

Then this cat appears, walks in, knocking over a bottle that slowly trickles beer across the floor, then stands on my leg, looking at me pointedly. That’s when I look down and realise what I’ve been doodling in my sketchbook while half-drunk.

Her.

Apartment 3.

There’s a picture of her the first time I saw her, lying on the floor, with her hair all spread out like a mermaid. If mermaids lived on land and had big streaks of dust on their faces.  Her eyes were all shiny then, then she got this beautiful flush that made me think all kinds of things my Mom wouldn’t approve of.

Then there’s a picture of her with a bag of groceries in her arms, which made me feel all old-school manly and protective, like I wanted to say ‘allow me, ma’am’ and carry things for her. Maybe she’d even hang on my arm and tell me I was a proper gent for that.

Ahem. There’s a picture of her when her skirt was all caught up, and I swear, I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t work out how to say it without it sounding really inappropriate, so I was just about to call out something when Bucky clamped his hand over my mouth and pulled me outside.  Still, this one’s giving me less than gentlemanly thoughts.

I haven’t sketched the time my knee kept bumping into hers under a table, while she chatted, and I swear I could have stayed there for hours because she just lit up when she was talking. There’s no sketch of when she walked into the door and I ended up half-carrying her to the ER because she said she kept seeing stars, and she was just so warm.  

Yeah, I’ve got to admit it, this is why I didn’t go out with Bucky, or anyone else.  I haven’t seen her in two weeks and I really just wanted to hang around in case I did, because she’s adorable.

But, here’s the killer. As always, she’s taken with Bucky. I swear it’s been the same since we were kids, even when he set us up on double dates, they were both there for him, and I was this asthmatic hanger-on.  She’s next door mooning over wanting to be Nat so she could be with Bucky, and how great he is.

I need to get some air. The apartment feels too small now, like I’ve suddenly grown two foot in the last five minutes. I shove my feet into some shoes, and grab up my keys.

Lying under a duvet is pretty boring after the first scream. It’s also too hot, so I crawl myself out after a few minutes and come face-to-face with myself in my mirror.  Bangs stuck to my forehead with sweat, one eyebrow half gone, a wine-flush in my cheeks, and wine-stained lips.  Maybe it was better under the duvet.  

But I want out, for a few minutes. I want to go buy all the ice cream that I can, so I can indulge myself fully. I need some air, so I shove my feet into some shoes, and grab up my keys.

-----

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[runawayballista]

yuugure sketch #1

(originally posted in 2020)

here is 5000 words worth of self-indulgent weeby nonsense i’ve been fleshing out as i go. this started out as an excuse to write expy ninja yaoi but then i got way more invested in the backstory and worldbuilding instead

Shigeaki hated getting home at dawn. The only thing anyone wanted to do after a long night was to crash, but the gradually rising light made it impossible for him to drift downward into sleep, pulling him back toward consciousness with every brightening shade. He complained about it frequently, always in a sour mood the next day, until finally, one day Oetsu and Tatsunaga showed up at his apartment with a set of blackout curtains and swiftly installed them despite Shigeaki's sputtering protests. Exactly who gave them permission to redecorate his apartment, anyway? Tatsunaga had told him that at least this way, everyone could get on with their lives in peace the day after Shigeaki Kusafuka had a red-eye mission. Apparently it was endemic to the whole block.

As he kicked off his shoes at the front door and hung his scuffed jacket on the hook, he was starting to feel a little more grateful towards his friends. His small apartment was still comfortably dim, no bright stabs of light to interrupt the half-asleep reverie he was already falling into. He tugged his hair loose from the tie holding it back and collapsed promptly onto his futon, face pressed to his pillow. God. He could sleep for a whole day.

And then the birds began chirping.

Shigeaki rolled over, cracked his eyes open, and groaned. If they wanted him to sleep after a red-eye so badly, he was going to crawl in through Tatsu's window and kick him out of his own bed next time.

Well, there was nothing doing now. Shigeaki dragged himself upright and toward the tiny kitchen. He cracked open the can of instant coffee next to the sink only to discover it was down to crumbs. He peered into the narrow cupboards, but all he could find for food were four tins of sardines, a can of soup concentrate, and a box of oats with a thin but distinct layer of dust. When he opened the fridge, he was instantly assaulted by the cold smell of rotten food. Shigeaki slammed it shut immediately and doubled over, trying not to heave on the linoleum floor.

Right. Not only had he not gone shopping before leaving for a mission he knew would take him away from Yuugure City for at least a week, he hadn't even bothered to throw out the leftovers in his fridge. Now he was home, tired, and dirty, he was out of coffee and anything immediately edible, and his tiny kitchen smelled like liquefied cabbage. The cafeteria it was.

He was just locking the door behind him when he heard footsteps clanging down the aluminum stairs. Hnnghh no. It was too early.

"Yo, Shige!"

Oetsu's voice had a tendency to carry even when Shigeaki wasn't feeling a sleep deprivation migraine coming on. With a groan, he rested his forehead against his front door. In an instant, she had him in a headlock, knuckles digging into his scalp. Shigeaki let out another sound closer to a yowl and tried to wrestle away, but she outweighed him by half and was nearly a head taller to boot.

"Cut it out, Oetsu, I just got home!"

Oetsu let herself be shaken off without fuss as Tatsunaga caught up to her, his pack slung over one shoulder. The two were nearly a matched pair in terms of build, both clocking in at over six feet and looking more like bouncers than spooks. Oetsu's dark-tinted glasses only completed the look for her.

"Oetsu, give him a break," Tatsunaga sighed. She just grinned, holding up empty hands, and the sunlight glinted off her glasses as if in attestation to her innocence. He just shook his head and looked sidelong at Shigeaki. "Shouldn't you be asleep right now?"

"I'm being harassed by birds," Shigeaki muttered, combing his hair more or less back into place with his fingers. It had a tendency to stick up on its own when he hadn't washed it in a few days, and the last thing he needed was to walk around the compound with a massive cowlick. "Strongly considering pioneering tiny yakitori as a local delicacy."

"Oh, we'll just get you some earplugs," Oetsu said, then slapped a fist into her palm. "Oh, right! I brought you back a souvenir from our mission."

"You know you're the only one who does that, right?"

"That's what I keep telling her," Tatsunaga said as Oetsu fished a waxed paper carton from her hip back.

"It's right — aw, man! It got totally crushed!"

Sure enough, the flimsy paper container had caved in on itself during its journey, and judging by the bits oozing out through the sides, it had once contained tiny filled sandwiches of some kind.

"I told you those wouldn't keep," Tatsunaga sighed, shaking his head, and unslung his bag from his shoulder. "Here, I got you something else."

"You're just enabling her, you know," Shigeaki said. Tatsunaga handed him a brightly colored can wrapped in a paper bow. It was instant coffee, Shigeaki's usual brand. "Hey, getting someone's groceries is not the same thing as bringing back a souvenir!"

"You're probably out anyway, so just thank me." He shouldered his pack and nodded toward the stairs. "You getting breakfast too?"

"Yeah, that was the notion. Bring me some milk next time, huh?"

Tatsunaga rolled his eyes and turned for the stairs. Shigeaki left the can of coffee in front of his door and then hopped the railing, dropping partway down the stairs just behind Tatsunaga and Oetsu. The downward swing made his stomach churn unpleasantly, and he instantly regretted it.

He paused as they hit the landing, staring at the apartment at the end of the row. There was a modest little doormat in front and a woven reed talisman dangling from the doorknob. The place had been vacant when he'd left for the mission. It'd been vacant since Shigeaki joined.

"Did someone move into 2R?"

"Oh, hey, yeah!" Oetsu snapped her fingers. "The new recruit moved in yesterday, right?"

"Hm, yeah. Oyori did say something about that." Tatsunaga rubbed his chin, glanced at the newly if sparsely decorated door, and headed down the last flight of stairs. "I guess he passed the interviews after all."

Shigeaki wrinkled his nose, an expression that looked somehow grotesque in combination with effects of sleep deprivation. "What new recruit?"

"That kid from the Sen clan," Oetsu said. "Some kind of sword prodigy or something."

Shigeaki's mouth opened in a scoff. "The Sen kid? I thought that was just a rumor."

"Nope, it's the real deal. He's, what, sixteen?"

"Fifteen," Tatsunaga said. "Youngest recruit in the Black Masks' history, according to Captain Yui."

"Seriously? They're letting fifteen-year-olds in now?" Shigeaki rubbed his cheek, his expression descending into a scowl. "This is black ops, not a temple internship. What's next, letting literal children enlist? How does a fifteen-year-old pass the interviews? In what world is a fifteen-year-old stable?"

"Would it make a difference if he was sixteen?" Oetsu said. Shigeaki glared at her.

"No!"

"Stable is a high bar to set around here, all things considered. If he got past Captain Yukari, he's sound enough." Tatsunaga's usually serious face lit with a faint smile, a little grim around the edges. "You're not jealous, are you, Shige?"

"Why would I be jealous?"

"Oh, I don't know." Tatsunaga shrugged. "I mean, you were only eighteen when you joined up, and you were always pretty proud of that, so..."

Shigeaki's brows drew down in a sour look. "You were both over twenty when you joined!"

"Yeah, 'cause I had a few things I wanted to do with my life first." Tatsunaga paused as they exited the apartment complex into the courtyard, his mouth pulling into a frown. "Still, you have to worry about someone who wants to get into this line of work at his age."

"Exactly! That's what I'm saying. There's no way someone like that would actually be able to handle the work we do. Honestly, it's practically neglect to let him join."

"Nah," Oetsu said. "The captains know what they're doing. If the new recruit were really some kind of liability, they'd turn him away. Besides, it's not like the bias is in his favor to start with."

"Exactly," Shigeaki said through his teeth. It sounded like she was agreeing with him, but it didn't feel like it.

"I bet he's some kind of badass," she said, swinging one arm in an energetic downward chop. "I mean, those interviews are pretty grueling. Plus, there's no one who doesn't look cool with a sword."

"I won't lie, it would be interesting to see the Sen sword style firsthand," Tatsunaga said, tapping his chin. Shigeaki rolled his eyes fiercely and stalked off across the courtyard to the cafeteria. Oetsu and Tatsunaga kept on behind him without any apparent care for his obviously very not sensitive feelings.

"I heard he's pretty good with magic too. According to Oyori, he's got experience with spirit mediation."

Oetsu nodded with conviction. "Of course he'd be considered as a candidate. We don't really have that many people with extensive experience with spirits."

"Yeah, because that's not our job," Shigeaki pointed out over his shoulder. "We deal with people, not spirits. If you want to spend your days purifying the earth, you don't join the Black Masks."

The doors to the cafeteria swung shut behind them. The three of them headed for the counter, but Oetsu stopped suddenly, slapping both Tatsunaga and Shigeaki's arms.

"Hey, isn't that him? That's gotta be him, right?"

Shigeaki turned to look, and his mouth opened in disbelief. Oetsu was right, it had to be him — he was the only unfamiliar face in the sparsely populated room, and he was certainly the only one under twenty. But this kid was decidedly not a badass. He was a skinny little thing — Shigeaki might even be inclined to say shrimpy — his toes just barely touched the floor from the chair in which he sat. Dark hair hung around a pale face, looking ruffled and uneven, down to the bangs that hung heavily over his forehead. It had the looks of an awkward self-cut. His face had a generally dull disposition, serious and uninterrupted by any smile, and his eyes, though lidded, were focused on the book laid out in front of him. With the owlish way he blinked and the faintly bruised circles under his eyes, he gave off the distinct impression of someone about to fall asleep.

Next to the book was a small plate with a single slice of toast on it. Just toast, nothing else. Not even a smear of butter. What kind of teenager ate plain toast for breakfast? For some reason, Shigeaki found that detail the most offensive.

"Ooh," Oetsu said, her mouth twisting uncertainly. "Kind of anticlimactic-looking, isn't he?"

The new recruit turned to cough into his elbow, a wheezing, dry cough that suggested he ought to be in bed and not upright and in public. His wide-sleeved jacket wasn't oversized, but it seemed to hang off his frame nonetheless. Oetsu made a face, wrinkling her nose. Tatsunaga looked kind of disappointed, too, but he had the grace to try and hide it.

"I mean, appearances aren't everything, necessarily..."

"Yeah, but he doesn't really give off a sword vibe, does he?"

"You were the one who said anyone could look cool with a sword."

"Yeah, but I mean...he really doesn't give off a sword vibe, does he?"

The corners of Shigeaki's mouth drew up in a smile. All that fuss over this little wisp of a thing. He looked like he might be toppled by a stiff breeze. The captains must be getting desperate, or they were losing their touch. Shigeaki's hand drifted toward his hip pack. He hadn't bothered to change before heading back out. Tatsunaga caught the movement and gave him a hard look.

"Shige." His voice had a warning tone. Shigeaki scoffed.

"What? I'm not gonna hurt him." He withdrew a thin metal dart, twirling it between his fingers. "Relax, Tatsu. I'm aiming for the wall. I just want to see what happens."

"That is a terrible reason. If Captain Yui - "

But Shigeaki had already sent the dart sailing with a neat flick of his wrist. It whistled through the air at almost invisible speed, rushing to meet the wall.

Without looking up from his book, the new recruit raised his left hand and caught the dart out of the air. He looked at it with a slight frown, then followed its trajectory back to Shigeaki and the others. Aside from that downward tug of his mouth, his expression hadn't changed.

Shigeaki's eyebrow twitched, his expression morphing quickly from brief surprise to annoyed. He could hear Oetsu fail to stifle a snort behind him. Just who the hell did this kid think he was, exactly? Who did that? Who just caught shit out of the air without batting an eye? Besides them, anyway, because that was exactly the sort of shit Black Masks did. The show of skill grated on his nerves. He'd been hoping to rattle the kid.

The new recruit placed the dart at the very edge of the table and returned to his book as though nothing had happened. Shigeaki clenched his teeth, his lips drawing back in an expression that could only generously be described as a smile.

"Shige." This time Tatsunaga's voice was more plaintive than reproachful. Shigeaki ignored him and headed for the kid's table. Tatsunaga looked at Oetsu, sighed, and waved her away from the coffee bar.

"You practice catching flies with chopsticks, too?"

A shadow fell over the book, and the new recruit looked up at Shigeaki's tired smirk. Truthfully, he probably didn't look any less like shit than this kid did, but he at least had an excuse. The new recruit's brow furrowed slightly, and he frowned that little frown again.

"No."

What the hell kind of categorically uncool response was that? It wasn't even a comeback. Instead of returning the banter volley, the new recruit had just kicked it out of the court and walked away. Shigeaki was at a momentary loss for suitably cutting return fire, and when he didn't respond right away, the new recruit's brow only furrowed deeper.

"You can have your dart back."

He had so carefully deposited it on the edge of the table, after all. His voice was thin and reedy, only just loud enough for Shigeaki to hear — as understated and flimsy as the rest of him. The new recruit was watching Shigeaki with a guarded look now, as though trying to assess whether he was actually dangerous. That should've been Shigeaki's line. Who'd thought admitting another member of the Sen clan was a good idea, anyway?

"So you're the Sen kid, huh? You don't look like much to me."

The new recruit's guarded look was turning into something more dubious, although it was hard to tell exactly what he was thinking. There was something opaque about that dull gaze. His mouth pinched, and he asked plainly, "Did you want something from me?"

The kid was supposed to defend himself or get nervous or offended or something. "Excuse me?"

"If you don't want anything from me, then can you leave me alone?"

Shigeaki could hear Oetsu laughing behind him. He was having strong feelings about putting a brick through somebody's window just now. He was underslept and still coated in the psychological film of a mission that had gone on too long, and he would at least have gotten a kick out of rattling the new kid.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, can you leave me alone?" the new recruit repeated with infuriating patience, although the flat line of his mouth betrayed some sliver of displeasure. "I'm in the middle of breakfast right now."

"Yeah, okay, that's another thing, though." Shigeaki could not seem to stop himself now. He pointed furiously at the lone piece of toast that looked like it might as well have been nibbled at by mice. "What the hell kind of breakfast is that, anyway? One piece of dry toast? You don't even put butter on your toast? Haven't you ever heard of protein in the — hey!"

Tatsunaga and Oetsu each hooked one arm under each of Shigeaki's and neatly hoisted him off the ground. "Sorry about our Shige-kun," Oetsu said with almost cheerful ruefulness. "He didn't sleep last night and he hasn't had his coffee yet."

"Will you put me down?"

"Absolutely not," said Tatsunaga, and he nodded at the new recruit. "Sorry, really. We probably shouldn't have let him around other people this early. Since our friend is chemically incapable of being polite right now, can I get your name?"

The new recruit's expression had shifted to suspicious bafflement. If he wasn't sure how to take Shigeaki, he definitely didn't know how to interpret the three of them. "Tsugutora."

Tatsunaga flashed him a smile, if a slightly strained one. "Nice to meet you, Tsugutora. I'm Tatsunaga, that's Oetsu, and this underslept mess is Shigeaki. Don't mind him. Some people just get a little funny after missions." He gave Tsugutora a polite nod and a little salute with his free hand. "I look forward to working with you, Tsugutora."

"Same here!" Oetsu waved as she locked her arm tighter around Shigeaki, who was starting to act less like a bully and more like a stubborn toddler. Tsugutora blinked.

"Um...nice to meet you too," he said as Tatsunaga and Oetsu turned, carting Shigeaki out of the cafeteria. Tsugutora watched them leave, then glanced down at the dart that they'd left behind. After a moment's thought, he pocketed it and returned to his book.

===

By the time they dragged Shigeaki back to his apartment, his physical resistance was starting to wane, but he was making zero effort to help, letting his heels drag along the courtyard path with a surly limpness. Oetsu and Tatsunaga dropped him unceremoniously in front of his apartment while Tatsunaga fished in his pocket for his key. Shigeaki hit the walkway with a thud, his exhaustion-dulled reflexes failing to catch him.

"Warning, please!"

"Your legs are fine, you were just choosing not to use them," Tatsunaga said heartlessly, and pushed open the door as Shigeaki got to his feet, snatching the tin of instant coffee from the doorstep. Shigeaki stuck out his tongue as he sidled past into his apartment and headed for the kitchen.

"Well, I'm choosing to use them now to expedite the process of getting coffee into my body." The coffee in the cafeteria was objectively better than the instant grounds Shigeaki liked according to his friends, but it was okay to be friends with people with wrong opinions. The thought of waking his brain above the overtired buzzing was enough to lighten his mood. He grinned a little and turned toward the kitchen — and then Oetsu was suddenly there. He jumped, nearly dropping the instant coffee.

"What the hell!"

Oetsu's dark glasses glinted. "Shadow tag." She pointed down with a grin. Sure enough, the daylight from the doorway cast a shadow from Shigeaki now directly in Oetsu's path. He gave her a disgusted look.

"You spent mana for that?"

Oetsu shrugged. "Not all of us have the mana capacity of a little kid's bladder."

"I swear to god, Oetsu, if you keep standing between me and coffee, I can't promise what will happen."

"You do not need coffee, you need sleep," Tatsunaga said wearily. "You don't take care of these post-mission jitters, you're gonna wind up dead and everyone will know it was an inside job. Oetsu?"

"Hoi!"

Before Shigeaki could react, Oetsu had executed a neat half-spin and thrust her open hand at Shigeaki's chest. Her palm glowed briefly, and he rocketed across the small apartment and slammed into his bedroom wall, trailing particles of light in a straight line. He toppled forward onto his futon with a little wheeze. Oetsu whistled.

"You do need sleep. Not even a spark of defense."

"Why do you hit so hard," Shigeaki gurgled into his pillow, rolling onto his side. A faint aroma started to drift into the room, and he sat bolt upright. "Tatsu! What are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Making you some sleepytime tea."

"What? No!" Shigeaki scrambled to his feet. "That stuff is nasty! I am not drinking — hngh!"

Oetsu laid him low again with a palm to his lower back, this one with a little less excessive force. He went facedown onto the bed.

"Why do you get so punchy when you're tired?" Tatsunaga sighed. "Look, you get the post-mission jitters, you drink the sleepytime tea, you get some sleep, everyone is happy, or at the very least, less pissed off. If you can sleep on your own, great, no tea needed. But man, one way or another, you have got to sleep."

"It's disgusting," Shigeaki protested, lifting his head from the futon. "It makes my stomach feel all shivery. That's going to stink up my kitchen for like, a week."

Tatsunaga emerged from the kitchenette with a steaming mug. "You can drink the sleepytime tea, or Oetsu can Open Palm you into unconsciousness. One of those two will leave you a screaming headache tomorrow. Your choice."

Oetsu brandished her hand at Shigeaki cheerfully, mana sparkling at her fingertips. He sat up with a suspicious look at her, then turned it on Tatsunaga and the steaming mug. He looked like a child being faced with the inescapability of having to eat his vegetables. After an unhappy moment in which he seriously considered kicking the mug out of Tatsunaga's hands and diving out through the window, Shigeaki made a face and took it from him.

"It's offensive to even call this stuff tea," he muttered in final, weak protest.

"You exclusively drink instant coffee," said Tatsunaga. "You don't get an opinion."

Shigeaki stared down at the mug with resignation. The smell was cutting and acrid, and while it probably wasn't actually going to stink up his kitchen for a week, it still churned his empty stomach. Every agent in this apartment block had a box of those packets in their cupboards; it was widely used for general recovery and convalescence, especially in the case of mana exhaustion. The dead sleep it put you under tended to facilitate faster mana recovery, at the expense of — well, being in a dead sleep until it wore off. The powder could be mixed with just about any liquid, but it tasted almost as bitter as it smelled, and it was generally agreed that it was easier to stomach with hot water. Thusly, it had earned the nickname 'sleepytime tea' among the agents. Shigeaki resolved to get it over with as quickly as possible and chugged it down in one go.

Tears were starting to well up in his eyes by the time he finished with an explosive breath, and then he let out a shuddering sort of burp, sticking his tongue out. His stomach lurched, but the tea stayed put. "That was disgusting. I might still die. You don't know. I don't even feel..."

Shigeaki's eyes rolled back and he started to topple over. Oetsu caught the mug with one hand and his collar with the other, and gently lowered his head to rest on his pillow.

"I'll bring some earplugs next time."

"I'll bring a funnel," Tatsunaga muttered, taking the mug from her. "Seriously, that was embarrassing. I've seen him pick fights from time to time, but I don't think I've ever seen him try to haze anybody. I don't think I've ever seen him that...jealous. I'm pretty sure that was some seriously misplaced jealousy. What mission was he on, anyway?"

"Mm...don't know. Pretty sure it was a solo mission, though." Oetsu tossed the blanket over Shigeaki and patted his shoulder. "He's just got a fragile ego. He liked being the baby for a while, even while he was demanding to be taken seriously. I think it was the first thing he was ever really proud of, and he's always leaned on that. It's kind of a rickety foundation for self-esteem. And then this new kid comes along, three years younger than Shige was when he joined, and he feels threatened by that. If Sen can handle himself just as well as Shige at that age, it's like Shige has nothing to be proud of anymore. Ah, he's always making things into a competition."

Oetsu frowned at Tatsunaga, who was giving her a harrowed look. "What?"

"I know that's all true, but you really don't have to lay it out like that." He let out a slow sigh, rubbing the back of his head. "Probably better stay a while, make sure he stays down. Somehow I wouldn't put it past him. Will you go back and grab something from the cafeteria? Pretty sure he hasn't gone grocery shopping."

"Yo," said Oetsu with a salute and headed for the door. Tatsunaga looked at Shigeaki's soundly sleeping form, rolled his eyes with a sigh, and went to wash the mug.

===

Shigeaki came to slowly, becoming gradually aware of the dryness in his mouth and the heaviness of his limbs. He was usually a pretty light sleeper, and his thoughts slowly gathered into a fuzzy ball of alarm as he realized  he'd been drugged.

Yes, he had been drugged. By himself, with the fucking sleepytime tea. Shigeaki rolled over and wiped a smear of drool from his cheek, blinking heavy eyes. It was nearly pitch dark in his apartment, the blackout curtains shutting out most of the moonlight.

"Yo."

Shigeaki nearly jumped, but his body still felt like stone. It was only Oetsu anyway. She was sitting propped against the wall, one leg drawn up, and she gave him a lazy wave. Tatsunaga was slumped against the wall next to her, softly snoring. Shigeaki blinked bleary eyes at the both of them.

"Have you been here the whole time?"

"Had to make sure you got some sleep." She grinned at him in the dark, her dark glasses catching the scarce light. "How you feelin'?"

Shigeaki sat up slowly, rubbing his cheek. "Better," he admitted grudgingly, wincing as he cracked something back into place on his neck. "Was I a huge asshole yesterday?"

"Big time."

He grimaced, pulling his hands down his face. He needed to massage some of the feeling back into it. He had slept hard. "Sorry."

Oetsu nudged him with her foot, blowing a stray lock of hair out of her face. "Stop trying to play the tough guy all the time, Shige. You don't make it to retirement age if you burn out first."

Shigeaki was glad for the dark. He flopped back onto the futon with a thump. "Yeah, well," he said lamely, then followed to come up with a suitable followup. Instead he rolled his head to the side to stare at the opposite wall.

"My man, you are not a trainee anymore." Oetsu sat forward, drawing her legs in. "You are a whole-ass agent. Solo missions and all. What's a new kid coming in and breaking a record got to do with that? Only person in the world who can fuck that up for you is you."

Shigeaki pressed his face into his pillow. If there was anyone he hated being Seen by the most, it was Oetsu. "Gee, thanks."

"Anytime, pal." Oetsu patted his leg. It was probably fortunate, all things considered, that his body still felt too heavy to do anything petulant like kick back. There was a moment of quiet as Shigeaki let out a long breath and turned back to stare up at the ceiling. Oetsu let out a little hum.

"Stability's overrated. You know that, right?" She tented her fingers in her lap, and though Shigeaki couldn't see her eyes through through the dark lenses, he could always feel when she was looking directly at him. "You have to be a little fucked up to do this for long. You either come in fucked up or you get fucked up learning the job. The former's better, 'cause you probably already know what to do when you lose your shit a little bit. That's part of why you were able to adjust so quick. So, yeah, they want to make sure new recruits won't implode in on themselves after every mission, but everyone flies off the handle a little bit here and there. Prime example: cranky agent throwing darts at the new kid for fun."

Shigeaki covered his face with his hands. It was not dark enough in here.

"The point of the interviews and tests and all that is to determine two things: that they can physically handle the job, and that they are one hundred percent sure they want to join up. You really want to be here, you find a way to get the job done. If the Commander approved that kid's recruitment, it's because he convinced the captains of those two things. And you know that's no cakewalk."

Shigeaki was one of a number of agents whose first scars in service of the Black Masks had been received as part of their petitions to join. He touched his fingers to his left ear, feeling the small notch along the side. "You think someone's really capable of deciding that at fifteen, though?"

Oetsu shrugged. "You ever tried to tell a fifteen-year-old what they're capable of? Besides, it's not like our ranks are overflowing these days. Seems like he's pretty serious about it, at any rate."

If there was a single word Shigeaki would have picked to describe the new recruit — well, it probably would have been frail, but serious was next in line. The kid had looked way too serious. Shigeaki made a resigned little noise in the back of his throat.

"I guess I should probably apologize to him too."

"Probably," Oetsu said. "There's no point in alienating new recruits. We all need to learn to work together eventually."

Shigeaki got the uncomfortable sense that that was primarily directed at him. No, not sense; he knew that was exactly what she was trying to say.

"Yeah, yeah," he sighed. "But you've gotta agree — he doesn't really look like a sword prodigy."

Oetsu let out a honk of a laugh that somehow did not wake Tatsunaga. "Oh, yeah. I'll have to see it to believe it. I'm sure we'll get a chance to before long." She cracked her neck and settled back against the wall. "Go back to sleep, Shige. You've got a few hours before the birds come back to heckle you. I'm going to take a nap."

It was impossible to tell when Oetsu's eyes were closed, but her breathing slowed before long. Shigeaki turned over onto his side, bundling himself in the covers, and found he had no difficulty falling back asleep.

[matskreider-blog]

i was going to post something really self indulgent and keep it short and sweet but it got kind of long so it’s under the cut

i just cant get the image of eddie asleep in his bed at worlds and he passed out while snuggling hank, but when he wakes up he thinks he’s with lu, and it’s not lu, it’s hank, but he doesn’t really realize that yet, so he curls up in hank’s arms and hank’s like “uhmmm...” but it’s fine, for then

and then later that morning, they’re standing in the kitchen, because eddie really doesn’t want to be alone just yet, and while team sweden might have the day to relax, team canada is still busy, and eddie doesn’t want to really feel that kind of alone nonsense

and eddie snuggles up to hank on the couch and hank’s just kind of letting him do this, and eddie looks up to see thank you but hank’s really close to him and he didn’t mean to do this but he just kind of kisses him gently and then backs away, in shock, stuttering apologies

and then hank just cups his cheek and is like “it’s not hurting anyone, as long as lu knows, right?” 

and eddie’s just like, “i-i-i mean, he knows that i s-s-sometimes kiss my teammates...” 

and hank’s just like, “if you want to, you can.”

and then eddie’s all shy but then kisses him again, and hank kisses him back and it’s the softest kisses and eddie still misses his husband but it’s so soft and sweet?? and lu comes back and walks into this and eddie gets up to greet him and hank’s only the littlest bit (read: a lot a bit) awkward in this moment but lu’s just holding eddie and there isn’t any tension between them

and hank just kinda tries to peace out but eddie stops him with a little “thank you” and hank doesn’t really know what to do with that, so he just takes his leave, but it sort of becomes a thing (tm) for them to do when lu isn’t around and eddie needs it

ofc eddie is the only one to initiate this, hank would never press and also doesn’t think of eddie in that way, but eddie sort of explains it to him that he views kisses as another form of intimacy, like it’s like the cuddling to him, and sometimes he just needs it, but there isn’t a romance there

but they kind of neglect to tell anyone else about this?? so when eddie’s chilling in the locker room post practice, after it’s announced that hank’s their new starter (which comes as a surprise to absolutely fucking no one), after the coaches have left he gets up and kisses hank, and it’s soft and sweet and everyone is 50 shades of confused because??? eddie doesn’t even try to not have his wedding ring on when he doesn’t absolutely have to?? so what is this?? 

and i really just have no idea where this was going but i just need casual intimacy with eddie getting the kisses and cuddles that he needs, until lu can be available, and eddie having people that he can trust to sort of back up his need for this attention and intimacy without compromising on his marriage because let’s face it, lu is a one man type of guy, and eddie is too, in his heart of hearts

but he does thrive on physical affection, and it’s probably something that’s led to complications in the past, in past relationships or what have you, but lu and hank understand that that’s great

and i just, i dunno - soft make outs on hotel room couches or planes, if lu can’t be with team sweden for whatever reason, that’s where this stems from, that’s what i’m talking about