#help this train of thought got very very derailed

[yndrgrl]

katsuki bakugo is the only man who can help bunnygirl! you during heat.

established relationship. normal! au. first time as a couple.

warnings: nsfw, lowkey angst ngl, fellatio, praise, slight degradation, creampie

if you're here for the nsfw part, i marked it >:)

a/n: dude, idk why my last fic has that "mature" label 😭 also is this a hypersexual comfort fic? yeah.

---

"are you okay? you look hot?"

"your forehead is on fire!"

"you look red. drink some water."

you've been hearing that non-stop all day. of course, you know that everyone has good intentions, but it was so annoying.

no, you didn't feel fine, nor did you feel sick. it was a strange, embarrassing thing to admit. in a world full of truly remarkable quirks, you just had to get a basic one. your quirk was rabbit. you know mirko? yeah, well you two are in the same boat.

you have floppy bunny ears the same color as your hair, a puff ball of a bunny tail, & muscular legs. all so cutesy & alright to deal with. the behavioral traits were what got you though. increased hearing, jittery/easily scared, & most annoying of all, the heat that came with it.

though it wasn't unusual to have heat, it was definitely not something you mention in a passing conversation. heat made it hard to focus on anything except for breeding & sex. your senses are enhanced, making clothes feel itchy at all times. your train of thought always derailed to live making. that's why you were prescribed heat repressant.

no side affects & it worked like a charm.

however, this month you forgot to stock up on them, & you just so happened to run out. you would've just skipped school to get some, but it was midterms, which comes with tests & presentations that simply could not be made up. it was either fail your classes or bite the bullet.

"oi! what's your deal?" someone barked at you. ah yes, your boyfriend of six months, katsuki bakugo.

"nothing," you said with annoyance. another thing about your heat is that you get irritable because of the overwhelming feeling of needing to do a certain activity. "don't worry about it."

taken aback, katsuki reached out for you & spun you around. your eyes welled with tears of frustration & utter embarrassment, the tips of your ears were red, & every thread of your clothes made your skin crawl. "hey, what's going on?"

"i-it's nothing, just leave me alone. class is about to start." you understood how much katsuki prides himself in his academics. you're not gonna be the one to drag him down; that's not very amazing-cool-awesome girlfriend of you, after all.

he wanted to say that he didn't care & let's just ditch class, but you both knew you couldn't. the exams were too important. luckily for the both of you, the last period of the day was study hall. most kids just skip it, starting their free time early.

just a few classes, then i can go get medication, that's not bad at all, i've been through worse, you thought in attempts to calm yourself.

yeah, but imagine how could it would feel to be absolutely railed, oh fuck, imagine katsuki-

you had to cut yourself off, he was standing right beside you after all.

your relationship with katsuki has been slow, healthy, & true. the most you two have done in the span of six months is make out, grind, & grope each other clothed. both of you saw a future together so having sex didn't have to happen right then & there. if it happens, it happens, but there was no need to have it to connect.

you didn't want you first time with the love of your life to be because of your current circumstances.

"did i do something?" he asked, making your ears twitch.

"no, it's not you," you reassured, "there's nothing going on." you both entered the classroom, & you could feel katsuki's worried stare focused on you the entire time.

you took exam after exam, which, in of itself, is a long, stressful process. the bell rang throughout the school, & your classmates shuffled out of the room to go to their last period. finally, it was study hall. you threw everything into your backpack without a care. you were practically panting.

throughout the school day, the pressure building inside of you only gotten worse. you couldn't stop thinking about katsuki. his god-sent body, his perfect face, his rugged voice. god, he turned you on so much-- too much, actually.

you felt bad for ignoring all of his texts throughout the day. if you didn't, however, you had a feeling you would've sent some embarrassing messages.

as you exited your class, someone grasped your wrist, dragging you out of the school. their touch lit you on fire. you knew exactly who it was. "let me go, katsuki."

"no, not until you tell me what i did!" he growled at you. he doesn't even realize how wet i am for him-

you had to shut off your thoughts, but that's easier said than done.

"i told you already. you didn't do anything."

"well something is going on with you. tell me what's happening," he raised his voice, a vice grip still hanging onto your wrist. you were getting overstimulated & overwhelmed. once again, you couldn't help the angry tears from forming. you couldn't help but hyperfixate on your panties brushing against your sensitive clit. you couldn't help that your nipples were painfully perked.

you can't just admit that though. it's such a stupid problem to you. you felt so wrong & disgusting for thinking about sex all day. "you wouldn't understand!" you finally yelled back. "you wouldn't get it."

he didn't respond. katsuki continued to drag you throughout campus, leaving you with your thoughts.

god, i made him mad, you mentally cried out. hopefully he'll hate fuck you then-

you want to rip out your own brain & throw it on the concrete. it was a constant cycle of that the entire walk.

a few moments later, you realized you were in his dorm, sitting on his bed with him across from you in his desk chair. both of your hands were in his as he brushed his thumbs against your knuckles. that alone gave you goosebumps. "please tell me what's wrong, baby," he said in a hushed near-whimper. "i'm worried about you."

"you really wouldn't get it, katsuki," you whispered, finally letting a few tears roll down your cheek.

he placed his index finger underneath your chin. he gently raised your head, your gaze following suit. the two of you locked eyes, his swirling with worry & yours sprawling in uncertainty. "then make me understand."

"it's my stupid quirk," you exasperated. you tried coming up with ways of how to say what you want to say without scaring him off.

"what about it?" he asked.

"you have such a nice quirk, you know," you started, avoiding his question. "it's just so much flashier & cooler than mine. there's already a rabbit hero!"

"what are you talking about? you do have a cool quirk."

"i'm a bunnygirl. nothing more. people already know what to expect-"

"what is this really about? you brag all the time how you get to come up with new ways to make your quirk yours," he countered, not convinced with your answer. "there's something more, isn't there?"

katsuki was so good at reading people-- at reading you. the other times you've confided in him, your voice lacked clarity, stability. why would it be different now? it wouldn't, that's why.

"yeah, there is," you admitted, tugging on his hands so he'd get closer. "i just don't know how you'll react or how to even say it-"

"it's fine. just tell me, i won't get mad or judge you or whatever," he assured. you began to cry even more, staining his dress shirt.

he smelt so good, i can feel his muscles through his shirt, he's so sexy-

"i need you," you muttered into his chest.

"what was that, baby?"

you glanced up at him, eyes glossy, lips pouted. "i need you."

katsuki's breath hitched, "what are you talking about?" yes, he's had theories about your quirk & its drawbacks. was this it? was his theory correct?

more tears of frustration rolled down your cheeks as you tried to explained, "i have... you know."

his cock stirred, scolding himself mentally for getting hard during a time like this. "have what?" he wanted you to say it, confirm his suspicions.

you took a deep breath. "i have this thing every month or so, & it just makes things so much harder."

"tell me." his stern voice sent shockwaves through you.

it made you obey him automatically, robotically. "i'm going through heat." a silence followed. "it's normal for people with quirks like mine to go through this. i usually have repressants! & i know this probably makes you so uncomfortable; i understand if you don't want to be-"

-- nsfw starts here --

katsuki cut off your rambling, almost offended. "don't ever say that. i want you, all of you."

"p-please don't say such things," you begged him as you felt your pussy throb. "i'm r-really trying to hold back-"

"let me take care of you, princess," katsuki purred, finger tips ghosting over your exposed thighs. he buried his face into the crook of your neck. "do you want this, y/n? because i want you right now. if you tell me you don't want this, i'll stop."

all you could do is nod, your breath turning uneven.

"say it, y/n."

"i need you so bad. please, katsuki," you cried out as you rubbed your legs together.

he smirked into your neck before he started kissing your neck. you couldn't help but whimper. he noticed you holding back, so he bit your neck. he sucked hickeys all over your neck. your unsteady breathes turned into needy moans.

"t-take off my shirt, please-"

katsuki took in your demand by ripping it off your skin as if it were poison. he unhooked your bra, throwing it on the floor. "ah fuck," he groaned, cupping your breasts.

"are they o-okay?"

"you're fuckin' perfect, baby."

with one, he replaced his rough, calloused hand with his mouth. you grinder against his thigh as flicked your nipple with his tongue. "k-katsuki~"

he switched to the other one, giving it the same treatment. "all mine," he growled in between. he nipped at the skin around your nipples. your neck & chest were soon littered with purple marks & bites.

"let me touch you," you begged & you began to fidget with the buttons of his shirt. "take this off~"

"so needy, aren't you, princess," katsuki teased, yet he gave into you. he threw off his shirt, looming over you. goosebumps pricked at your skin, all over your arms down to your legs. you found yourself trailing your hands all over his abs, his muscular arms, around his back. it was like your hands had a mind of their own.

you flipped the two of you around, so now he was under you. "c-can i please mark you?"

he let out a laugh of amusement, making your face turn a deep red. "you don't have to ask, baby," he told you. as a response, you mimicked his actions from earlier. your lips kissed all over his neck, leaving marks in its wake. you trailed down to his chest, then his abs then his v-line until you reached the band of his pants.

the entire time, he was groaning, feeding you praises that shot straight through your core. when you stopped, he looked down at you, & there you were, staring back at him with eager, wide eyes. he could read you so well. "go ahead, y/n. pull them down."

to which you did. you hands hooked both his uniform pants & his boxers. you pulled them down, & your mouth watered when his cock sprung out. "i-it's so big," you moaned; you meant to only think that, but you couldn't help it.

his mushroom tip beaded precum, his veiny shaft twitched in anticipation. "you see how hard i am for you? all for you," katsuki told you, watching your eyes dart to his then back down to his cock.

you started licking him to test the waters. you saw as his eyebrows furrowed together, his mouth agape, narrowed eyes. your licks evolved into you sticking his tip into your mouth. your tongue flicked around his cock. you crossed your eyes & whined when you tasted his precum. thanks to his quirk, it tasted almost sweet, salty, & god, was it addicting.

you bobbed your head up & down his thick rod. the tip hit the back of your throat while spit flooded your mouth. it was hard to breath, but you didn't care. having katsuki inside of you was more important than breathing. "slow down. you're gonna make me cum, good girl."

that was enough inspiration for you. you needed his cum. you forced your head all the way down his cock, your nose buried in his pubes. your eyes watered (for the fifth time today), & you stared into katsuki's eyes. both of his hands tangled themselves into your hair. "i'm gonna fuck that slutty, little throat, okay? just tap if it's too much," he informed, but he had a feeling you were going let him do whatever he wanted.

you moaned as a way to let him know that you heard him. the vibrations quivered his tip. "mmm, fuck. you're doing so good," he praised, jutting his hips forward the drawing them back.

his thrusts at first were small, in fear he was hurting you. however, as he looked down at you, your eyes rolled back, drool spilling out of your mouth, rubbing your aching clit for some sort of release, he couldn't hold back. he started using your throat as a fuck toy.

fast & rough, & all you could do was take it. take it, even though you're crying & it's hard to breath. "i'm close," he uttered out in between moans. his sultry voice turned a pitch higher in a humiliating tease, "you want my cum, baby? huh? c'mon, tell me you want it."

you choked out muffled, "yes please" & "cum down my throat please." he laughed at you trying to form sentences with your mouth stuffed. "such an eager bitch. fine, i'll give you what you want."

he thrusted his hips forwards, keeping your head in place. you face smushed against his hips. his cock twitched as he unloaded spurts of cum down your throat.

he pulled away, & strings of saliva mixed with his semen leaked onto your skirt. you looked back up at him, finding his cock still erect. "you look so surprised," katsuki said as he caught his breath. "i'm still so hard for you. after all, i told you i was going to take care of you."

"p-please have sex with me," you barely even whispered.

"what was that?"

"please-"

"i still can't hear you," katsuki told you, stroking his dick. he really knew how to push your buttons

"please fuck me, katsuki! i need it, i need you so bad~ i need your big cock inside of me," you blurted out. you finally let you stupid, nasty fantasies get the better of you.

judging from katsuki's smug expression, he wanted you to indulge in them. "alright, alright. you've been such a good girl for me. it's the least i could do," he shrugged before flipping you over so you were trapped under him. even in your most intimate moments, he was cocky. & god, did it make your pussy wet.

as he started to pull your skirt down, your hands shot to grab his wrists. "no, fuck me now, i can't wait. it hurts too bad," you whined, your glossy lips pouting.

"of course, princess," he said with a smirk. "whatever you want." katsuki's fingers dove under your skirt to push your panties out of the way. he held your legs up, placing your calves over his shoulders.

he lubed the tip of his dick with your juices by running it through your folds. "you're so wet for me, good girl."

"it's all for you, katsuki~" you purred, anticipation practically killing you. you felt pride as he turned his head to kiss the meat of your calf in approval.

"can't let it go to waste," he told you. he lined his thick, heavy cock with your entrance. something must've taken over you because, the moment it lined up with your hole, you shoved your hips forward with your entire body.

you let out a squeal of pleasure, your pussy stretching to accommodate for katsuki's lengthy cock. "shit, baby, you almost knocked me over," he chuckled as he readjusted. both of his hands were on your hips.

"shut up & fuck me," you growled at him. his cock twitched, brow raised in amusement.

"yes ma'am," he replied, "but remember you said that." from the get-go, his thrusts were powerful, immediately finding the cervix. your nails dug into his biceps down to his wrists. moans, whimpers, & screams spilled out of your lips.

katsuki took his fingers to your mouth & demanded in a low voice, "suck."

the action made you quiet down. he found your g-spot soon after, & you felt lightheaded. with his fingers down your throat, his cock abusing your most sensitive spot, & katsuki whispering dirty nothings into your ears, you shut your eyes & released all the tension building up.

"f-f-fuck, i-i'm cumming, katsuki," you rasped, voice having a small lisp thanks to his fingers. you squirted all over his abdomen, breath heavy & uneven.

he didn't stop though. he still rammed his big fuckin' dick in & out of you, not letting you calm down from your euphoric high. in fact, his hand that you slobbered all over found their way to your clit. he drew small circles around it. "ah, katsuki!" you moaned. "it's too much!"

"you'll be a good girl, & take it, won't you? i haven't cum inside you yet," he responded while his other hand pinched your nipples.

"i-i-i'll be a good girl, katsuki~" you slurred, speaking on beat with his thrusts. he made you cum three more times then you felt as his hips became more robotic, shorter, uncalculated.

"i'm cumming," he groaned through gritted teeth. "i'm cumming. fuckin' take all of it." thick jets of hot, white cum stained your walls. his dick pulsated inside of you. you came again; who could blame you?

he took a few deep breaths, collapsing on top of you as he pulled out of your pussy. cum spilled out of you & onto his sheets. he embraced you, whispering, "round two?"

[1800titz]

Hi! I write this fic on Wattpad, but figured I would put it up on tumblr, too!

WARNINGS: THIS IS A BDSM FIC

WATTPAD ALTERNATIVE | TRAILER | ALPHABET PROMPT | tdiag things

DESC:

"My name is Eros," the masked male cocks his head a smidge at her, and, if only slightly through the shadow cast between the parted zipper, Isla catches sight of a smile tugging at his lips on the latter fragment of his statement, "But you already know that. I'd hope, anyways. We've had a chat. Or two."

His lips - his mouth. Isla ogles the latex through the peepholes of her own and wonders what shape the rest of his features take, what carves and forges his face, how his nose slopes, the assemblage of it all.

"Although we are acquainted," Eros smooths his fingertips over the arm of the chair, a lavish facade of plastic masquerading, "You will address me as Master."

Isla swallows. Despite her prior train of thought looping so intently on the tracks to decipher what she believes he'd look like beneath his mask, it's entirely derailed by the serious note in his previously light cadence. She wonders how a mere introduction manages to send such a thrilling rush rolling down her spine. Eros leans forward, forearms braced to his splayed thighs, almost as if to bend to her level.

"Or Sir. Master, Sir, it's all the same to me. Your preference."

CHAPTER 1

The one with Masks & First Meetings, Mr. Executioner (or Mr. Friendly??), and a scene feat. a blindfold and an unexpected participant

CHAPTER 2

The one with negotiations in a room that draws memoirs of therapy appointments (fancy chairs — comfy chairs), Harry: “Crying = enjoying... Got it,” testing the limits, face-fucking, and a glint of teeth

CHAPTER 3

The one with shoplifting grapes, drafting a contract feat. a debate on honorifics, creampies — according to Harry, generally too sweet, floggers, fear-factor-except-it's-kinky, and four too many orgasms

CHAPTER 4

The one with a manacle and a mean man who lends a helpful hand in a house hunt, the same mean man being nice .63737382 seconds later, sloppy cunnilingus, and a Series of Mysterious Knots

CHAPTER 5

The one with a Series of Mysterious Knots Part 2, sleeves caught in car doors and impromptu rope swing climbing, a pair of dress shoes, and sixteen minutes too many

CHAPTER 6

The one with the birth of the infamous yada yada, Isla “what happens at three?” Cleery, the glove (singular!) comes off, a very jittery ottoman, a cane, and some (unwholesome) late night talking

CHAPTER 7

The one with another house tour, a …vivid imagination, the rise of the green-eyed monster, Harry “your actions have consequences” Styles, the importance of taking breaks, and emotions brewing and bubbling to the surface

CHAPTER 8

The one where (more) emotions brew, a ham and cheese croissant, an oat milk latte, and a book about pain-slut-ism, the discovery of villain origins, even more emotional brewing, and an exploration of boundaries

CHAPTER 9

The one with a sprinkle of consensual violence, the cane, feelings-ish (that Harry buries in pussy), and the D word

[just-jordie-things]

omg you’re back?! and you’re doing prompts?! this feels like christmas!!

can you do 28 with inumaki?? but also maybe if you’re listening to something nice 25, i’d like to know what song inspires the drabble (:

25: Kiss Inspired By A Song (stargirl interlude - lana del rey) 28: First Kiss ___

you don’t know why you think to ask such a personal question, especially to someone who can’t express his answer very easily- not that it’s his fault- but the thought creeps in your mind like a parasite and you just know it won’t go away until you have his answer.

“have you ever kissed anyone?”

at first toge thinks you’re only asking this question to distract him, because his focus shifts away from crossing the finish line on rainbow road, his thumb stilling on the joystick of the pink remote and his eyes are on yours.  simultaneously, you’re passing his character and claiming first place for yourself, a victorious smile on your face, until you see his perplexed gaze.

in your brief silence, you catch the change in song on your shared playlist.  you can’t help but nod your head along as your current favorite melody begins.

he’s raising a brow at you, the slight frown on his face making you realize your suspicious timing.

“that wasn’t on purpose!” 

you try to explain yourself, but toge’s not sure he believes you.  you had to have known such a sudden and personal question was going to throw him off his game.  you and toge certainly spent a lot of time together, often playing mariokart or smash bros, but even outside of your free time you were a duo.  he was your favorite person to train with- maki was too rough and that made her a better match for panda, and yuuta barely even went to this school anymore- and you seemed quite comfortable with his odd way of communicating.

still, as close of friends as you were, you’d never really talked about these sorts of things with one another.

“okay, i’m sorry,” you apologize when his gaze remains unrelentingly upset.  “i wasn’t trying to distract you.  i just got curious” 

the first question on his mind is the obvious, why? what had gone on in your head to make you wonder such a thing? did you assume he had? but his thoughts derail quick as a more pressing question pops up.

have you ever kissed anyone?

you’d never really talked about any romantic interests before- neither of you had, hence his initial surprise with your question- so toge wasn’t sure he could safely assume you had kissed anyone.  that said, you were a pretty girl with a warm personality, if you wanted a kiss from someone, he was certain you would have gotten it by now.  

and now he wondered what kind of person you would look for to be potentially kissed by.

surely he’s blushing in front of you now with how off track his thought process had become, and he wishes he’d worn his uniform instead of the tee shirt and sweats he sported because at least then he’d have a collar to hide behind.

“so… have you?” you ask, impatient to know the answer, and you sound like it too.

you have toge absolutely bewildered by your anticipation for his response.  what impression had he made to make you think he could have kissed anyone? it was sort of hard to get to that step when you couldn’t even talk, after all.

“bonito flakes”

his voice is quiet as he shakes his head for good measure.

“really?” you ask in surprise.

his brows are furrowed as he tilts his head you, silently asking what you’re trying to imply, before his cryptic words question you.

“mustard leaf?”

“i dunno,” you shrug, setting your controller down now that your game had finished.  “i guess i just wondered.  you’ve never talked about it before” 

toge laughs, and it comes out more like a scoff.  you understand him somehow.  he’s amused that you thought about such a thing.  but then he’s smiling at you, quirking an eyebrow as he seems to shoot the question back at you.

“what?” you feign misunderstanding, even though you both know perfectly well that you know exactly what he’s asking.

it’s obvious in the way your cheeks turn pink and you pick up your controller again so your fingers can fiddle with it.  despite being sat on opposite ends of the bed- with toge leaning against the headboard and you at the foot of the mattress- his bed suddenly feels small.  the whole room suddenly feels small.

you’re anxious, you both realize.  although toge finds more interest in it than you do.

“mustard leaf?” he questions you and you curse yourself for getting to know him so well that you understand he’s repeating your question back to you with those two words.

when you turn to look away toge scrambles to straighten his posture, suddenly very invested in your answer.  he’s grinning excitedly, his eyes wide with amusement.

“salmon cod roe!” he demands through bubbling laughter, and despite your embarrassment, you give in, because he’s just so adorably curious, and he’s your friend, right? he wouldn’t judge you, would he?”

“no!” you cry out, covering your face as you fall back onto the bed.  

you kick your feet in the air in childish frustration.  your face is burning from the admission, but you suppose you brought it on yourself, seeing as you asked him first.

toge’s laughter is silenced as he watches you throw your arms to your sides and let out a huff.  he gives you a comforting smile.

“salmon” he tries to communicate to you that it’s okay, that he doesn’t judge you, but you frown back at him.

“don’t you think it’s a little embarrassing?” you ask, your eyes staying on him to gauge his honest reaction.  “or down right humiliating?” you mutter bitterly.

“bonito flakes” he mutters back in mock offense, but you seem to ignore him.

“it’s not like i haven’t tried,” you say to the ceiling, and it leaves a bitter feeling in toge’s chest.  “but the options aren’t exactly… numerous,” you mumble the last part.  “i think if i asked, maki would kiss me,” you think aloud, before turning your head to look at toge again.  “but i’m too scared to ask,” you whisper, as if she could hear you from her dorm across the hall.

toge chuckles at your wide eyes, and smiles at you again.  your worry about something so silly was funny to him.  you’d clearly had this on your mind for a while to consider kissing one of your friends- the scariest one of your friends, too.

he reaches behind him to grab the little whiteboard on his night stand, uncapping the magnetic dry erase marker so he could scribble on it.

why maki?

you shrug back after reading it, folding your hands over your stomach.

“figured she’d kill me if i asked yuuta.  figured you’d say no” you reply.

he blinks back at you, but you’re turning to look at the ceiling again, humming along as your song comes to an end, so you don’t see the way your answer stuns him.

of course he wouldn’t say no! is his initial thought, but the way it crosses his mind so loud and certain has his heart stuttering in his chest.  did he want to kiss you? he’d never really thought about it before, he’d never really thought of it as an option.  your friendship meant a lot to him, more than he could express, whiteboard or not, he couldn’t do anything to jeopardize it.  but of course if you asked him, he’d say yes.  he’s certain of it.

in the name of being a good friend, of course…

“mustard leaf?”

you hum curiously back at him, tilting your face his way again to watch as he scrawled across the board again.  the marker squeaks softly as he tries to write as quickly as he can while still keeping his handwriting legible.

when he lifts the board for you to read, your eyes follow each letter slowly, carefully.

why do you think i’d say no?

the insinuation behind the question has you opening and closing your mouth a few times, struggling to find the words.  you’re beginning to fluster, and toge can see it in the way your fingers tangle and untangle themselves where they rest over your stomach.

“i- i don’t know,” you stammer, your eyes landing on his only briefly before you grow too shy to hold his stare.  “figured you’d think it was a dumb thing to worry about,” you say, and there’s some truth to your words.

the rest of the truth would have been admitting that kissing toge had been on your mind for some time now.  a long time.

“but i just- i just want to get it out of the way, you know?” you sigh, your eyes falling shut.  “that way, in the future, when there’s someone i- i really want to kiss…” you grow quiet as you realize you’re really only embarrassing yourself further.  you sigh again.  “i just don’t want to be humiliated by kissing someone badly” 

it’s quiet for a minute, long enough that you peek over at toge, just to make sure he was still there.  he nods at you in understanding.  maybe he didn’t share this anxiety, he didn’t feel any sort of rush to get his first kiss out of the way, but kissing someone wasn’t exactly on his realistic bucket list.

your song ends, and soon the familiar echoed strumming of guitar makes it’s way to your ears with delight by you- another one of your favorites.  lana del rey’s angelic voice follows shortly after.

he holds your stare for a moment before deciding to take a leap of faith, and then he’s writing on his board again.  you keep your focus on him this time, watching the way he bites his lip as he writes, and how he re-reads his words a few times before he finally presents the board to you again.

if you want to ask, i’ll say yes.

as soon as you finish reading it, your eyes shoot back up to his, quickly trying to make sure he wasn’t joking, that he wasn’t going to burst out into laughter and tease you for jumping on the first offer of a kiss you could get.

when you find that he’s smiling at you, so kindly you could just melt, you sit up right away.

“really?” you mumble out, just to be sure he’s not pulling your leg.

toge wipes the board clean before scribbling on it again.  you move quickly to peek over at it while he doodles two stick figures with their faces pressed together and a big MUAH written above them.  you giggle at the cute drawing, and he beams at you.

he caps the marker and sticks the magnet to the board before setting it aside, giving you his full attention.

you’re right across from him now, and you move your legs to get more comfortable, sitting criss cross.  the exhale you let out is a little shaky, but you give him a hopeful look.

“promise not to tell anyone if it’s bad?” you ask him quietly.

toge wants to laugh, because there’s not a chance that your plump looking lips could ever bestow a bad kiss, but he doesn’t.  he wants you to feel perfectly comfortable.

“salmon” he says with an affirmative nod.

you nod back, eyes flickering between his apprehensively, before falling to his lips.

you’d looked at toge’s mouth many times before.  it was easy to get distracted by the markings, sure, but they were a good cover for you to let your mind wander to curiosities you had- such as if his soft lips felt as soft as they looked.

“tuna” he tells you, raising his hand to cover your eyes.  you chuckle nervously, but follow the command and let your eyes fall shut.

toge can’t help but admire you for just a moment.  he feels an excitement bubble up in his chest at the prospect of kissing you.  his heart was suddenly beating very fast, and he had to bite back a smile as his eyes wandered your pretty face.

what kind of good deed did he do in a past life to earn such luck in getting to kiss someone so perfect? 

maybe he was a little too ready to kiss you.

his fingers touched the underside of your jawline delicately.  the action was so new and intimate he nervously watched your calm expression, praying you wouldn’t flinch.  you didn’t.  the corner of your lips tilted into the smallest of smiles, and as he slid the rest of his hand against the rest of your jaw, you tilted your chin up, bringing your face just the slightest bit more towards his.

he followed the movement, his nose brushing against yours carefully, and he found his own eyes falling shut on their own accord, a soft sigh escaping his lips as a wave of exhilaration washes over him.

when you don’t instantly feel his lips on yours, you prod your nose against his in a small, gentle movement.  he smirks at the action, intrigued by your impatience, and he wonders if you’d meant to do it or if your anticipation was getting the better of you.

but he doesn’t spend any more time stalling, and leans in the rest of the way to connect your lips.

you’re a little slow to react, stunned by the new sensation.  but it only takes a few seconds of getting used to the feeling of having someone else’s mouth on yours for you to fall into it, naturally, and you kiss him as if you’d kissed him a thousand times before.

he feels your hands tremble as you rest them against his arms, the pads of your fingers barely pressing into his skin.  your lips move over his curiously, enjoying the velvety sensation of his soft mouth.  it was even softer than you could have imagined, you thought in a cloudy daze.

the gentle but alluring beat of the song seems to synchronize with the fast paced beating of your heart, and the distant cooing of lana’s harmonizing has you feeling all the more six feet off the ground.

but i love it, i love it, starboy… 

when you do part, it takes a moment for your eyes to flutter open.  your mouth is still parted, and you find yourself fixing your gaze on toge’s lips, as though amazed by them, before your eyes peer up at his.  an amused smile stretches over your face, your eyes positively twinkling at him.

he knows he should probably move back a little further, you’re still inches apart and his hand is still on your face, but toge stays put, just to bask in the warm feeling for a little longer.

you’re not rushing to move away, either.

“is it always gonna feel like that?” you whisper, your dazzling smile demanding all of his attention.

he could tell you that sure, it could if you wanted to.  but he decides that you don’t need to go finding that out for yourself, that if you want it to always feel like that, then you’ll just have to stick to kissing him whenever it is you so please.

so with a cocky smile and bright eyes, he shakes his head at you.  and when he pulls you in for another kiss, your eyes flutter shut and you meet him halfway with a newfound eagerness for kissing your best friend. ___

a/n: i adore this song and just thought it'd be the best to makeout to yaknow? hope you enjoyed <3

xoxo ~ jordie

[myseungsunglove]

Don’t Mess with a Good Thing | Hjs

Pairing: Jisung x Reader

Warnings: All the fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You’ve loved your best friend Han Jisung for as long as you can remember. Really there has only ever been him, but neither of you have ever owned up to it. Until one morning when everything changes.

A/N: I adapted this fic from many years ago when I used to write very regularly. Hope it works okay and that you enjoy it as much as I do.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

Feedback Welcome

「© July 31, 2023 by mysweethannie」

You sat on the balcony of the condo you shared with Jisung, Changbin, Chan, and Hyunjin watching the sun rise. Han Jisung had been your best friend since you were fourteen. The last nine years had been some of the best times of your life as well as some of the most trying and confusing.

When you first moved to Seoul to train at JYP, you didn’t really know anyone. At least not anyone training. Your family had moved away from South Korea to the States when you were five. You’d spent most of your formal school years there but always went to Seoul to visit grandparents. You spent every summer in Seoul and every summer your grandparents made sure your music lessons were always a priority and continued while you were with them.

Fast forward and it was 2014. You impulsively auditioned for JYP over the summer and got accepted into the training program. The entire trajectory of your life shifted in that moment. On the first day of training, you met Han Jisung. Somehow, over the course of the next three years you’d find yourself friends with Jisung, Chan, and Changbin, helping them produce music and lyrics for songs as you all trained together at JYP. It got even crazier when JYP himself allowed Chan to form a group of self selected members for trial debut and Chan pulled the biggest surprise on JYP he could have managed. He picked you along with 8 other guys. 1 girl, 9 guys. It was something JYP had never even thought to try. He made it pretty clear from the beginning he thought it’d never work when he decided to allow your group to compete on the Survival Show Stray Kids. He even eliminated members from your tight knit group in effort to derail your hopes of debuting as a unit, but you were dumbfounded that you were never in danger. When Minho and Felix had both been eliminated, you’d all been floored. Devastated. When they came back in the end, it was like you were whole again and gave one of the best performances of the show with all of you together. The rest was history. you’d all go on to debut as Stray Kids in 2018. During all of that, 3Racha1 was a constant and important pillar in your life. They had added the one to 3Racha when it was clear that you were an extremely important part of their unit and they wanted to move forward with you, whatever the cost may be. And of course the other members of what would become known as Stray Kids became like family as Chan intently and purposefully picked each one.

Han Jisung was the best friend you had ever had, though. You shared things with him that you wouldn’t dare tell another living, breathing soul. You were fairly certain that door swung both ways. You knew secrets about Jisung that you didn’t think any of the boys knew about him. That only seemed to strengthen your relationship and bond with Jisung. He was the most important person in your life. You lived with the boys so that you weren’t excluded from bonding with the group simply for being a girl. It worked out better than anyone really could have expected. When the one dorm was just too cramped for the nine of you after four years and it was time to split into two groups, the natural order suggested that 3Racha1 stay together. You guys would drag poor Hyunjin along for the ride, but you knew he secretly loved the chaos. Deep down. Maybe way deep down but it was there.

You sighed contentedly as you sipped your coffee, reminiscing about the last nine years and how the hell you had gotten to where you were in 2023, two days shy of leaving for fucking Paris to headline at Lollapalloza. It really all felt like a dream, but with the boys and especially Jisung by your side, you know it was all worth it.

You realized that you were in love with Jisung about a year and a half ago while prepping for the Oddinary comeback . You were always stubborn about admitting your feelings and letting yourself actually feel. If truth were to be told, you’d probably been in love with him most of your friendship. Who could blame you, really. The two of you acted like a married couple. You did everything that couples did short of making out and making love. Some days you desperately longed for that element of your relationship to blossom, but you were never sure if Jisung saw you as more than a friend or not. So you kept it strictly platonic. Ish.

He took you out on surprise date nights to quite corners where no one could find or bother you, you cuddled up together in bed and watched anime and Kdramas for hours on end on your days off hiding away from the world. He’d occasionally make you breakfast in bed which was always entertaining because he wasn’t the best cook, but he still liked to spoil you all the same. He’d often surprise you with plane tickets home when you had longer hiatuses, always insisting that he come along too. All of your friends at home would joke with him about when he was going to get you a ring and make it official. He’d laugh and say that you would never see it coming, winking at you as he pulled you into his side right where you belonged. It was the running joke every time you brought him home with you.

You weren’t really sure you were ever going to get the chance to tell him how you felt. You worried about the dynamics of the group and the viability of 3Racha1 if he didn’t return your feelings. Your mom always told you, “Don’t mess with a good thing, Y/N.” And who were you to screw up nine years of friendship? You cared about Jisung too much.

You took another sip of your coffee, pulling it close to you for warmth. A smile broke out across your face as the sun peeked out over the horizon. The warm golden yellow filled the air suddenly, taking your breath away.

“Beautiful,” Jisung said from the door behind you.

“It is, isn’t it?” you replied, turning and expecting to see him looking out at the gorgeous sunrise. Instead, his eyes were trained on you. He smiled at you as you cocked an eyebrow at him suspiciously. “What are you up to, Han Jisung?”

“I’ve been thinking,” he started, but you cut him off.

“Uh oh. Stop the press. Ji is thinking. We’re all in trouble!” you laughed as he sat down beside you.

“Seriously,” he chuckled, stealing your coffee from your hands and setting it on the coffee table, but not before taking a long drink from your cup and sighing contentedly.

“Hey! If I don’t drink that, I’ll be falling asleep on any surface I set foot on in the studio this morning. Give it back,” you whined, jutting your bottom lip out in a pout.

“God, I love you,” Jisung laughed, pulling you close into the crook of his side, right where you belonged.

“Damn straight you do,” you giggled as you wrapped your arms around his waist and snuggled into him, your face pressing close to his neck, your head resting gently on his broad shoulder. The air suddenly felt a little chilly and you burrowed closer to him, thankful that, for such a small person, he radiated heat like the sun.

Jisung kissed your temple, lingering longer than usual, inhaling deeply. You sighed. You really could stay like this forever. He spoke aloud what you were thinking.

“I could stay here just like this forever,” he said, pulling you closer, the tips of his fingers ghosting your skin where your shirt was riding up slightly. You shivered in response and his fingers dug into your bare skin lightly. “Only one thing would make it better,” he mumbled.

You placed your hand on his chest and pushed yourself up, so that you could look into his beautiful brown eyes.

“What could possibly make this better, dude?” you glared, pretending to be insulted that you weren’t enough to make the moment perfect. In truth, you were a little disappointed.

“This,” Jisung answered, his free hand landing on the base of your neck, pulling your lips to his. A jolt of electricity shot through you. You had only dreamt of this moment. Was this a dream?

His lips moved against yours with reverence, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip and daring into your mouth.

You pulled away, breathless. “Ji,” you whispered, your fingers running along the base of his hairline, the muscles in his neck responding to your touch.

He reached for his pocket, pulling something small from it. “That and this,” he said with a smile, holding the most beautiful ring you had ever seen.

You were speechless. Tears pooled in your eyes as you tried to process what was happening. Jisung spoke before you could form a sentence.

“I love you. You’re my best friend. I tell you everything. You are the person I spend 99% of my time thinking about. I think about how I can make you laugh. How I can make you smile. God, I think about what your lips would feel like against mine and damn if I wasn’t right. I’m cursing myself for not acting sooner,” he said, kissing you deeply once more. The connection was real and intense and you’d never felt anything like it before. The way his lips moved against yours, it’s like they were meant to be yours and yours alone.

He pulled away hesitantly, you chasing after his now kiss swollen lips. He chuckled softly.

“I think about how I’ve been madly in love with you for years, and how I think you love me too. I think about how you are the person I want to come home to everyday for the rest of my life. I think about what it would be like to make love to you, and I lose my mind. You make me lose my mind in the best way possible. That’s when I realized I wanted you to be my wife. What we have right now is a thousand times better than most couples I know, and we aren’t even dating. We’re better. I finally figured out the only thing we were missing was you having my last name and me knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are mine and I am yours. From the moment I met you, I knew there wouldn’t be anyone else baby,” Jisung finished, smiling at you, wiping away the tears that were steadily falling down your cheeks.

“Ji,” you whispered, pulling his lips to yours with passion. Once you were both rendered breathless again, Jisung pulled away hesitantly, not wanting to let you go now that he really had you for the first time.

“Y/N, will you marry me? I know we’re skipping a few steps and the boys will have to adjust, but this couldn’t feel more right,” he said, taking your hand and holding the ring in his other hand, looking at you like you held his entire world in your answer. In truth, the guys all treated you like you were together anyway. This wouldn’t really change anything except making it official. Sure you’d have hoops to jump through with the company, but you knew Chan would help you guys navigate those waters. Since he was like a big brother to you and Jisung, he was more than aware of your feelings for each other, both of you having confided in him over the years.

“Jisung, I love you. Yes. I’ll marry you. It’s always been you. It will always be you,” you said through tears as he slid the perfect ring onto your finger. You were marrying your best friend. The love of your life all without the pressures of dating.

“I told you you’d never see it coming,” Jisung smiled, kissing your temple.

“I always thought you were joking,” you grinned, beaming from ear to ear.

“I’m glad. If you thought that I was serious it would have ruined my plan. I could not have been more serious, baby.”

“My family is gonna to be shocked,” you laughed, staring at the ring as it sparkled in the morning light.

“I don’t think so,” Jisung smiled. “They saw the way I looked at you when you weren’t looking. Your dad told me the last time we were there that I better take good care of you. That he knew where to find me. Said he would be proud to have a son like me. Someone who loved his daughter so unconditionally,” Han confessed.

Your hand flew to your mouth. “He didn’t,” you gasped with a giggle.

“He did, but Y/N he couldn’t have been more right. I had the ring then. I’ve had it for almost a year,” Jisung revealed.

“Wow,” you managed as Jisung’s lips fell on yours again, his hand roaming your sides hungrily, slowly pushing the fabric of your night shirt up. His lips traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The way his touch set you on fire only served to confirm that being with him was always meant to be. You were on a collision course to this moment and neither of you had known.

Jisung was your best friend. Now fiance. You couldn’t wait to call him your husband, you thought as his lips traveled your body, showing you just how much he loved every inch of you.

“Is it done?” A chorus of voices rang out onto the patio, startling you and Jisung apart.

“Oh god!” Hyunjin cried when he saw Jisung’s hand up your shirt, laying across you on the bench.

“My eyes!” Chan mocked, covering his eyes.

“I think it’s done,” Changbin laughed.

You sat up, straightening your clothes and easing a very reluctant Han off of you as he settled down by your side.

“You’re looking at the future Mrs. Han Jisung,” he boasted, his hand holding yours as he showed the boys your ring.

“Bout fucking time,” Chan laughed which made all of you laugh in turn. “We should all get moving along. I’m pretty sure the early bird house is probably all already ready for the celebration breakfast. They actually sleep at night, unlike us,” he chortled with a yawn.

“Celebration breakfast?” you questioned, looking at Jisung. “Did everyone know about this?”

He smiled mischievously. “Maybe,” he admitted.

Your mouth dropped open in shock. “How did Jeongin not spill the beans?” You laughed. “Hell, how did you all keep this locked down so long?”

“Chan, Minho, and Seungmin are the only ones that have known longer than a week,” Jisung laughed. “The rest of these knuckleheads couldn’t have been trusted to keep their mouths shut.” He glanced at Hyunjin.

“Hey! I resent that,” Hyunjin pouted.

“You know he’s right,” Changbin laughed, clapping Hyunjin on the back.

You smiled fondly at them, leaning in to kiss Han once more. His hand came to rest on your cheek as he pressed closer to you once more.

“Alrighty,” Chan said, clapping his hands together and walking back inside, dragging the other two with him. “Don’t get too handsy, you two. We should probably leave within the hour before Minho shows up at our doorstep,” he warned with a chuckle.

“Shit,” you mumbled against Jisung’s mouth. “Can’t have that. Between him and Seungmin, we will never hear the end of being late even if this is all about us,” you laughed.

Jisung tossed his head back, a belly laugh emitting from him at the thought.

“You’re so right. Better get moving,” he agreed, jumping up and offering you his hand, the most beautiful smile on his face. You took it, the stupidest, happiest smile plastered on your own. He pulled you close, kissing you slowly once more. “Damn,” he sighed. “Why haven’t we been doing this all along? I’m never gonna get enough of you,” he admitted with a low growl against your lips.

“I’m all yours, Han Jisung. Tonight I’ll show you just what that means,” you promised, running your hand along his chest as you walked past him back into the house, heading for the shower.

“Fuck,” he whispered, watching you walk away, daring a glance back at him with a wink. “How about you show me now,” he teased, chasing after you which caused you to take off toward the bathroom. You reached it before he could catch you and closing the door and locking it behind you. “Sorry, babe. Guess you’ll have to wait,” you teased. You heard him sigh and moan, slumping against the door momentarily.

“Just you wait, y/n,” he warned. “Just you wait,” he repeated as he trudged down the hall to his own room to get ready.

You leaned against the door with a happy sigh. You couldn’t believe how much your life had changed in the last hour and you couldn’t be more excited for the changes it meant for the future. You were engaged to Han Jisung. You were the luckiest girl in the world.

[confessionbrain-writings]

Backbone part two - Syverson

Summary: You had a confrontation with The Captain but got interrupted before things could escalate. But that doesn't keep the grumpy Captain up as he orders you to meet up later. And meeting up you did.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, unprotected p in the v, spanking, let me know if I missed something.

Word count: approx 2,7k

A/N: So hi there. It's been a while, but life kinda happend (which I'm not gonna bore you with). So a (wayyy) bit longer than I wished but here is part two of Backbone. You can read part one here. English isn’t my mother tongue so apologies for typos or mistakes. I hope you enjoy. Feedback is very welcome!

As soon as darkness fell, the camp grew silent and prepared itself for another night. But it wouldn’t be like any other, not for me. I had slipped on my boots and tiptoed my way back to the Captain’s office. Even though it was dark, it wasn’t that hard for me to navigate back to the designated spot. Without a lot of thoughts I silently stepped into the hallway and eyed the closed door of his office. 

The sight of it brought me back to our banter from earlier today. It had played over and over in my head and that didn’t exactly help to keep my hormones and the throbbing pulse between my legs in order. But not only his words were the culprit, it was also the ghost of his touch. How his body had felt, pressed against mine and how he had grabbed my jaw. It was like I was this horny teenager again who could only think about dicks and sex. Sex, sex, sex. It was a silent chant in my head and I cursed myself for it. Since when did I let it affect me so much? 

A mix of excitement and anxiety settled in while eyeing the door closely, almost burning holes through it in hope to see if he was behind it. What if he wasn’t there? What if he just wanted to vex me? What in the bloody hell was I even doing… 

I’ve shoved the train of thoughts down before they could derail and stepped into his office, silently closing the door behind me. It didn’t take long for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and I quickly could make out his shape. He was leaning back against the wall, one foot popped against it and arms folded across his chest. Without seeing his face, I knew he had his brows furrowed. 

“Ya late,” he stated and pushed himself from the wall, taking slow and tensive steps towards me.

The tiny hairs on my body stood right up as my defense mechanism kicked in and screamed at me to run while another part of me wanted to stay, anticipating the Captain’s actions.

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?” The retort was out before I could stop it. Somehow there was something about him that just hit all the wrong nerves that’d put me on edge. And I was damn well sure he knew that too. 

“Ya think ya smart, hu?” He asked as he stepped closer. I kept my stance right as it was. Confident.

“You wanna know what I think, Sir?” I asked and cocked my head, lips pursed. 

“No.”

“Well, I’m gonna tell you anyway.”

That earned me a scoff.

“Then why do ya ask?”

“I was attempting to be polite.”

“Mmm,” was his only reply as he folded his arms across his chest again. Even in the darkness, I could make out his bulging biceps.

“I think…” I started but my words were cut off as he closed the distance between us. I noticed his approach, but I let him as his hands curled around my biceps and pushed me back against the closed door. 

Shit, this was so wrong but it was also exhilarating. The heath between my legs started to pool again, going from zero to a hundred. I inhaled through my nose and took my gaze back to his face as he opened his mouth.

“I don’t care what ya thinkin’” he growled and pressed his lips hungrily against mine. One hand slid to my jaw as I clawed at his buzzcut, pulling him in. 

The kiss was wild and full of need. Our lips moving in unison as his other hand found my waist. Quickly tugging the shirt out of my pants and placing his hand on my bare waist. The feeling of his warm palm against my skin sent an electric shudder across my skin. And that electric feel shot straight to my lower stomach as he made his way up, roaming over my ribcage and squeezed the skin just under my boob. 

A deep moan escaped my throat. My own hands skimming over his warm skin and solid muscles. It was no secret that he was well-trained and muscular, since that was easy visible to the naked eye, but feeling those muscles under my palm. Damn it. It only edged me on.

“Fuck—“ I whimpered against his lips and clawed at his shirt, needing more of him. The Captain seemed to notice and slipped his shirt over his head in one swift move. My hands instantly roaming the exposed skin. 

He was quick to grab the hem of my shirt and let it follow his on the floor. He cursed when he met my bare breasts, since I didn’t bother wearing a bra. What would be the use anyway?

“Jesus, Sugar,” his hands quickly shot forward, kneading the plump skin which made me gasp. 

“Ya came prepared,” he stated and shot me a dark look. That look only could make me cum right then and there. 

“Ya needy lil’ thing, ain’t ya?”

Lost for words I just nodded. Somehow the need to defend myself and stand my ground like before suddenly flew out of the window. The need consuming my body and started to haze my mind. It almost was like I was in some sort of drunken state. High on his touch and craving for more. More, more and just more. 

“Hu.. Cat got ya tongue? Do ya want it that bad?” He grits and empathizes his words by squeezing my breasts harder.

I whimper and struggle to find words to answer. “I— yeah..” Is all I can choke out.

A feral grin starts to form on his face. He’s well aware how his touch and words affect me.

In an instant he takes a step back, leaving me a little confused and light-headed. Did he change his mind? Oh, he’d better not ‘cause there was no way my fingers could comply the building fire inside. 

He takes a deep breath and nods to his desk. “Take off ya clothes and place ya hands on the desk.” He orders and I gape at him.

“You— I— Wha—“ I spluttered but he interrupted me before I could finish.

“Ya heard me. Don’t make me tell ya twice, sweetheart.”

The new nickname and command shot straight to my core but did as he told. I felt his hungry gaze follow me as I made my way to his desk. Kicking my boots off, followed quickly by the rest of my clothes. The wooden desk under my palms was a bit clammy, but hey, what a surprise - you were in the fucking desert. 

As his heavy steps came closer I turned my head to glance at him. He still had this feral grin on his face and twirled his finger in the air. 

“Turn back. I didn’t order ya to turn around, now did I?”

I swallowed and turned back, looking at my hands on the desk instead. Suddenly I felt his broad hands on my waist which made me shudder. He leaned forward, his bare chest covering my back, his lips brushed the shell of my ear.

“I asked ya somethin’” he breathed which made goosebumps break out over my skin. 

“No,” I whispered back.

“No.” His voice is steady. “No I did not.” He continues as his hand slowly sank to my ass. Caressing my cheeks and then — WHACK. 

A yelp fell over my lips at the sudden sting. He just smacked me. He smacked me hard and I liked it, a lot. I bit my lower lip to contain my panting breath. 

He smoothens the smack by gently massaging the red skin. 

“Ya wanna know what I think?” He asks, copying my words from earlier.

I nod my head, afraid my voice will betray how rilled up I am.

“I think this is what ya like, don’ ya? Gettin’ handled by ya Captain. Should I find out?”

It feels like my heart would jump right out of my chest. The words making my face heath. Why was this so hot when not even a few hours ago I could strangle him? The need to fight him now nowhere to be found. The feeling of wanting this was immensely stronger.

Those thoughts quickly faded when I felt how his hand slid down over my spine, onto the curve of my ass, switching to my front and lower stomach and hovering over the aching part between my thighs. 

I swallowed thickly as I slightly started to spread my stance, giving him more acces. Hoping he would dip his hand further down to where I needed it the most. As if he could read my mind he did and I felt how his breath hitched against the side of my face when he met my undeniable arousal. 

“Just like I thought. Fuckin’ soaked for me already.”

I whimpered when he slowly moved two fingers up and down my slit, spreading the wetness. 

“Fuckin’, filthy little thin’ ” he hissed and it only made the inferno worse. So bad that I couldn’t stop the plead falling from my lips.

“Please, I need—” my voice broke as I pushed my hips back, trying to fuck his fingers. Needing him so bad, it felt like my body was as tight as a bowstring. 

“If you want it so bad, I’ll give it to ya.” He breathed hoarsely. 

Turning my head slightly so I could steal a glimpse at him, it was clear that he also was starting to lose it. He could pretend to be tough but seeing me bend over his desk - naked and needing - made him also threw his morals out of the window.

“Fuck it.” He cursed and he unbuckled his belt swiftly. Not even bothering to take his pants and boxer completely off, he shuffled them down to his ankles so his erection could sprang free. 

Holy. Shit. I watched as he fisted his big cock, giving it a few tugs before lining it up at my soaked entrance. Only the feel of the tip made me moan again. That seemed to bring back his attention and he growled as he gripped the roots of my hair with his other hand and pushed me face down onto the desk harshly. My right cheek meeting the wooden and sticky surface.

“What did I tell ya?” He barked through clenched teeth and I wiggled against him. I needed more. I needed more of him, now.

“Just fuck me,” I begged. “Please.” I added and that was enough for him.

He snaps his hips up and slides in, making the both of us moan and whimper. The stretch of him filling me suddenly made me hiss and clench my teeth. But the sting wasn’t that bad, the banter from earlier and his dirty words made the pleasure overrule.

Pushing myself back - as far a possible since he still held my face to the desk - to feel him more, feel him deeper. He planted his free hand on my waist, steadying himself and stopping me.

“No,” I whine and try to look over my shoulder. “Please, Captain,” I beg and he snarls.

“I was planning on takin’ it easy on ya but ya makin’ it so fuckin’ damn hard!” He’s clenching his jaw hard and I notice how he shakes slightly, his control starting to slip.

I can’t help but smile at him, suddenly feeling a bit of a victory for getting him rilled up as well. His brow furrowed and he smacks my ass again.

“Oh!” I yelp and he does it again. Twice. But my smile returns and his nostrils flare. 

“Is that what ya want?” He snapped and leans over me so his weight pressed me more into the desk. Even though breathing got a little bit heavier, the weight of him on me is.. good, nice, welcome. 

Due this angle his cock slides further in, stretching my walls and I whimper softly.

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Then let me give it to ya, sweetheart.” 

Without wasting a breath he snaps his hips and is instantly off on a feral pace. Fucking me right into the desk. This is punishment.

The sound of our arousal and slapping skin echoes through the office. The wooden desk groans under our weight as it’s moving back and forth with a scraping noise.

Whimpers, moans and pleads spill over my lips as he keeps rutting into me. Fucking me just like I asked him to and it’s hot as hell. This was wicked, this was madness and almost animalistic. 

“Is this what ya want?” He groans out. Releasing his tight grip on my hair and leans back. I place my palms flat on the desk and push myself up. Creating another angle that makes me see stars every time he thrusts into me. 

“Yes, sir,” I choke out and glance over my shoulder. 

Fuck. The primal look on his face makes me squeeze my core, pulling the strained bow even tighter. His hands are digging harder and harder into my hips which I’m sure will leave some prints. But I couldn’t care less. Not when he’s fucking me this good. This hard and raw. Both chasing our carnal desire.

“Fuck, Sugar.” He curses and his movements starts to falter, getting closer and closer to the edge. He grabs my arms and pulls them back, bending my back even further into a crescent curve. And with that movement the pull in my core is as tense as it can be.

Tears start to form in my eyes due the sensation. It’s almost too much to take. 

“Sy,” I sob and don’t even care when I called out his name. He reacts with a growl and curse.

“Again—Say it—“ he pants, “Say it again.” 

I willingly comply. 

“Fuck Sy— you— I’m gonna—“ before I can finish, the bow snaps and my orgasm washes over me. 

I feel his hand clamping down over my mouth, muffling my screams. He follows me just after by three feral thrusts. With my name on his lips as a curse he reaches his climax and spills his seed into me.

My heart is pounding like crazy, creating a ringing in my ears and I let my head fall back onto the desk. Taking time to catch my panting breath and lower my heart rate. 

The Captain slowly pulls out and I hear how he is dressing up already by the sounds of rustling fabric and the clink of his belt. 

How in the hell can he dress up already? It feels like I’m gonna need all night to pull myself back together and descend into my body again.

I feel his palm on the small op my back. “Ya good, Private?” He asks. 

Private. Alright, so I guess thats that for the nicknames. Fine.

Taking a deep breath I straighten myself and feel how my core is pulsing. Well, tomorrow is gonna be fun.

“Yes, Captain,” I answer and turn around. “Fine.”

He hands me a towel and while I wipe both of our releases off, he gathers my clothes and places them on the desk before he crosses his arms in front of his chest again. Just like he did when I walked in. 

I dress silently while he keeps his eye on me like a hawk. I take a deep breath and straighten to my full length when I’m finished.

We have a stare down for a few seconds and then I’m off to unlock the door and make my way back. 

Just as I open the door he slams it shut. His arm extends above me and I feel his presence close behind me. Giving me an immediate deja vu. I swallow tightly and only cock my head slightly to look at him.

He open his mouth but then closes it. He takes a deep breath and swallows.

“This cannot happen again, Private. Ya hear me?” 

His smooth and arousal-filled voice is replaced by the well familiar Captain’s one and I bit my tongue.

I nod at him and held his stare. “Yes, Captain. I hear you.” He nods and I watch how his gaze flicks to my lips. He leans in slightly and the movements sends a shudder down my spine. But whatever he planned to do halts and then he leans back, opening the door

“Goodnight, Private.” “Goodnight, Captain.”

taglist (some tags don’t seem to work): @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson@lizzystuffsthings @eldarwen333 @ysmmsy @astheskycries @daybreak96 @death-unbecomes-you @geralts-yenn @posiemax @mattmurdocksgirlfriend@greensleeves888 @justduckingaround12 @cricket66 @kebabgirl67 @identity2212 @leigh70 @kingliam2019 @theworldwonder @just-me-viktoria @foxyjwls007@gummydummy19 @enchantedbytomandhenry @sofiebstar @raccoon-eyed-rebel@evansabove1981 @teamfan7asy @summersong69 @lysarria @sunshine96 @bishhh2003 @midnight-stranger @eviesmith1810 @tumblnewby

[thebibliosphere]

Do you have any thoughts about the 27 chapter method of writing or are there other ones you might recommend more? I’m extremely disorganized and indecisive when writing which is frustrating because I never actually end up making progress. An existing outline method to at least get all of my thoughts down and decide where the story will go (instead of 27 possibilities and nothing concrete) would be extremely helpful but I don’t want a very obvious cookie cutter type story if that makes sense

The 27-chapter method works well for some people, but I'm not a huge fan. It fucks with my ADHD too much because if I map something out and define it as having 27 chapters, then it's got to have 27 chapters, no more, no less. If I realize during the writing process that the plan isn't going to be executed the way I envisioned it, so help me, god, my brain will derail this entire thought train, and there will be no survivors.

It was a problem I frequently ran into when redrafting the first Hunger Pangs book, and my brain melted trying to assign chapters to things. I told my editors at one point, "I can't do this. Can you find where the chapter breaks should go?" and they very graciously took my walls of text and figured out where the chapter breaks should go because it's just not something my brain is good at doing. In fact, it was preventing me from actually writing.

(I suspect that's why I enjoyed the earlier Pratchett books so much. No chapters = no breaking my focus.)

It sounds to me like you're a natural pantser, not a plotter, but you're also (like me) the type of person who needs a liittttle bit of structure to help you keep flying by the seat of your pants or the momentum drops off, and you get bogged down in the wrong details.

The way I do this is to basically sit myself down and figure out the A to Z of the story, write down a list of things I Absolutely Want to Have Happen that I set into stone, and then kind of start listing things off like bullet points. Like this:

So top of my page is the starting goal, what do I want to have happen? I want my Blorbo to go on an adventure. Why? To... defeat the Evil Blorbo!

That is basically as simplistic as you can get. Some people don't need to get that simple, but sometimes setting it down on paper really helps, especially when you're prone to getting stuck in other details that don't progress the plot.

Next, I list out the core things I want to happen that are set in stone. So things like: -Blorbo's parent dies. -Blorbo meets the ragtag band of adventurers who teach them to survive. -Blorbo gets a sword that is integral to world-building. -Blorbo gets a scar as a sign of both the physical and psychological changes that have affected them. -Evil Blorbo gets their ass kicked.

Those things are set in stone like milestone markers and I will usually try to make them hit certain narrative beats for whatever genre I'm in, though not always. Sometimes a cool sword is just a cool sword.

Next, I move on to figuring out how I get to those points.

This is when I start writing the plot out as a laundry list:

PART ONE

Blorbo wakes up on the farm one day. It is a [descriptor] day. How does Blorbo feel about this?

Blorbo and their dad have a meaningful and deep conversation that will make the reader instantly hate you for killing him off in the next ten pages.

Blorbo meets up with their friends. Character building and perhaps some world-building ensues.

An EVENT of some sort happens, and CHAOS ensues.

PARENTAL FIGURE eats shit and dies.

Blorbo is thrust out into the world.

Blorbo on the road: shit is terrifying, and they really wish this adventure was happening to someone else.

And so on, so forth.

I make a point not to number any of these individual parts, as it helps me to move them around if I need to without feeling like I'm breaking up some set-in-stone order. If you want to try and break your list up into Parts to follow conventional story arcs, you can do that too.

But you can also leave that until the end if you like. As I said, I split my stuff up into chapters and parts during the editing phase.

There's no one right way to do this.

I also try to keep the list vague, as if I personally go into too much detail during the plotting stage, I lose interest in actually exploring the narrative details while writing. Because fuck me I guess.

Don't worry if the above is too vague for you. Nothing is stopping you from going back to those bullet points and expanding on them later if that works better for your creative needs.

The main goal right now is just getting from A to Z and listing out the steps so that you have a roadmap to find your way before you get distracted. It really is just sometimes helpful to say "Character does X" so you can move on and keep plotting until you have the vaguest of outlines which you can then expand on further if you want to.

After I've bullet-pointed my way from start to finish, I'll maybe go back and identify some areas in the story where I should be hitting certain genre beats, but otherwise, I'll just start writing and see what fits where.

Some people are likely screaming at how simplistic and undetailed that is, but again, everyone's creative process is different, and it's really just about playing around until you find that one that works for you.

I've tried just about every "how to write" guide out there, and in the end what works for me is a bastardized amalgamation of all of them.

I can't be a true panster, but nor can I be a detailed plotter.

I absolutely cannot think of things in strict chapter outlines or I will get overwhelmed. But breaking them up into parts is fine.

I also have to remind myself that sometimes when you are writing, a better solution will present itself and this does not mean the whole project needs to change/you need to start over.

The destination is still the same, and you will likely still hit many of the same points along the way. It's just now you might be taking a detour, and thankfully, you don't have to redraw the whole map. You can just follow the signs marked "diversion," which thankfully, you can also control because all of this is within you control.

Even when it doesn't feel like it.

I hope some of that is helpful. I'm still trying to work out how to explain how I do things in a clear manner. So I apologize if this isn't helpful 😅

[229zmi]

CRASH AND BURN

PAIRING: Oikawa Tōru/Reader

CONTENT: reader is emotionally constipated, crying, comfort, i use the derailment of a train as a metaphor

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

(Picture this: an empty train in rectilinear motion, careening through rolling hills and lush greenery that appear to stretch on and on for miles. The exterior is scuffed, worn after decades of use, though the interior isn’t any better with its chipped paint, cobwebbed corners, and torn seats. Back outside, billowing wisps of smoke twist their way into the troposphere, slowly dissolving into the inky swirls of the sky.)

Oikawa can’t remember the last time he’s seen you cry. You aren’t one to wear your heart on your sleeve, and based on what he’s gathered throughout all his years of friendship with you, it would take a lot for you to cry.

Because you didn’t cry that time you painfully crashed your new bike into the neighbour’s garden and thus spent the rest of your summer break helping them replant everything as an apology. Neither did you cry the time you landed on your knee after toppling out of that old treehouse in your backyard nor when you knocked out a tooth during a game of tag. All Oikawa remembers is you sprawling out on the ground like a starfish and wailing until somebody helped you, but you didn’t cry. There were no tears.

You didn’t cry either at any of the sappy rom-coms movies you and him watched together, even though Oikawa figured you weren’t a very empathetic person anyway after he told you he found a roach in his shampoo bottle and you merely laughed in his face. You didn’t cry after a tumultuous breakup with your boyfriend of a whopping two months, not even after you got fired from your shitty job or during your high school and college graduation ceremonies, and you most certainly did not cry over the tragic end of another relationship years later — of a whopping two and a half months this time.

(Listen: the wheels clash against the rails with a continuous rumble. The wind whistles deafeningly, drowning all other noises of nature as the train picks up the pace.)

So you weren’t a sentimental person either, he eventually concluded, but for the longest time, he thought there was something wrong with you, or maybe you had a lacrimation allergy that he wasn’t aware of.

But no, that’s just how you are. The first image he sees when he thinks of you is exactly this: you with a loose grin, a thumb jutted at yourself, and your chest puffed out for the effect of confidence. Whether it’s mock or real, he can’t tell.

You’re an amalgamation of no use in crying over spilled milk, c'est la vie, and so on; you’re nearly the textbook definition of the jester archetype. Happy-go-lucky and lax, you laugh at the bad and then carry on as if the aforementioned bad never existed.

…At least on the surface, where it matters.

You’re like an onion in that sense, he supposes. Peel back all the layers, and suddenly the reality becomes clearer. You are nothing but a hollow, emotionally-constipated shell of everything you were taught, not through mundane lectures at school or how-to tutorials on YouTube but rather through reprimands that built up over time. Of crying equating to a display of vulnerability that would, in turn, only precipitate uncomfortable stares and artificial pity from others, and of repressing your shitty feelings so you wouldn’t have to deal with them.

(Listen, again: a sharp, grating noise rattles the vacant vehicle wholly. Too loud, too haphazard-sounding. There might be something wrong, but if a tree falls in a forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?)

The then Oikawa might have shared a similar sentiment at some point, a very low point back in high school, but the now Oikawa knows all too well that this facade you keep up is a lot like a banana with too much ethylene gas; it’ll only continue to get worse over time until it ultimately decays.

In your case, you’re bound to self-destruct sooner or later. He’s sure of it.

But — you turned out fine, didn’t you? After all, you had escaped most of your childhood injuries with temporary bruises and scars that faded later on anyway and a fucked up knee that only mildly inconvenienced you at times. You’re not sure what was the problem.

And anyway, he’s getting off-topic. The point of this is as follows: it would take a lot for you to cry, he’s never seen you do it anyway — that’s just how things have always been.

(The harsh noise repeats itself, and the wheels start to come off the train. Another screech — shit goes off the rails.)

It’s a Monday evening. A torrential downpour had hit the city approximately half an hour ago and still persists; the local weather forecast says it won’t be at least another fifteen minutes or so before the rain starts to clear up. Thunder echoes overhead nonstop with the occasional jagged flashes of lightning ripping through the sky.

On a Monday evening, you show up at the door to his apartment unannounced. No text, no call. Just you. Oikawa surveys you all in one glance, eyes quickly flitting from your drenched figure to your slumped posture as if there’s an invisible weight physically holding your shoulders down. There’s a downcast expression overtaking your face, your lips are twisted into a scowl, and a translucent sheen glazes your puffy eyes.

Almost like you’ve been crying.

“[Y/N]…” he breathes out, instantly alert as all the alarm bells in his mind ring. His jaw might as well have dropped to the floor and scuttled away with how visibly shocked he is. Opening the door wider, he grabs you by the shirt sleeve and pulls, no, yanks you inside. Various questions threaten to spill off his tongue, the most prominent being something along the lines of What are you doing here?, but one more once-over of your haggard appearance and he decides that perhaps the prying inquiries can wait. Regardless of the situation, you’re way more important anyway.

After closing the door and with an arm slung over your shoulders, he guides you over to the living room. Or, at least. Tries to. The thing is, you sort of give up halfway there against your own will, falling into safety net of his arms right before you crumple to the ground, and perhaps this situation could be considered romantic if it’s not for the fact that you’re now crying. Like really crying, snot-faced and uncontrollable hee-hawing type of crying.

For a moment, Oikawa isn’t exactly sure what to do besides hold your trembling body closer to him and gently rub circles into your back, hoping that will somehow help soothe whatever it is that you’re feeling right now.

“I’m—“ You inhale intensely as if it’ll help you gain your composure just enough to finish your sentence, but then you break into another sob, moving your hands up to aggressively swipe at your cheeks. Oikawa catches your wrists with one hand, not wanting you to accidentally hurt yourself in the process with how rough you’re being, and wipes away your tears for you with the other.

“It’s alright, let it all out.”

“Tōru— I’m so sorry,” you finally manage to blubber out, your voice all gurgly and muddled with hiccups in between. You sniffle and then curl your hands into the fabric of his sweater, suddenly despising the shameful feeling that now shrouds you. Regret bubbles inside of you like a loud burp waiting to be released as you stare at the large wet stain on his sweater. “I’m sorry— for messing up your sweater and— showing up without letting you know I was gonna visit. I just— shit, I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. You don’t have to be sorry at all,” he assures. His thumb swipes over the back of your hand tenderly. “Are you okay, though?”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak again without breaking.

“Do you want to talk about it? Need anything? Water?”

This time, you shake your head, and the conversation falls to a standstill. Outside, the sky emits yet another low rumble and a flash of light that briefly illuminates the two of you before darkness engulfs you again. Rain continues to lash violently against the window — a stark contrast to Tōru’s comforting embrace.

You speak up once your hiccups fully die down and you’ve had enough of listening to the sounds of the thunderstorm, “Still, I’m sorry for… y’know. Getting all dramatic on you.” You chuckle with a smile that falls short of your eyes. “I don’t even know why I was crying.”

Your words hang in the air for a moment before Oikawa processes them. His voice abruptly cuts through the silence, coming out harsher than intended.

“I don’t know whatever it is that’s bothering you, but you were not being dramatic, and I don’t want you to think that,” he snaps. You blink at him, momentarily stunned as if what he just said was outlandish in any way, though you quickly recover, painting on what appears to be a bashful expression.

“Aw, you don’t have to lie for my sake,” you tell him. There’s a hint of humor in your tone, yet the tension in his shoulders doesn’t ease. Matter of fact, it grows; you’re making him nervous. “I was literally full-on sobbing. Boogers and everything. You don’t think that’s at least a tiny bit dramatic?”

“That’s just you letting out your emotions after keeping them bottled up for so long.” You open your mouth to speak, but he’s not done. “[Y/N], that’s — that’s normal, and there’s no shame in doing so by crying.”

A loud roar of thunder shakes the walls of Oikawa’s apartment. You don’t respond in the couple of seconds it takes for the sound to dissipate, instead deciding to stare distantly at the ground for a moment as you gather your thoughts.

“Huh,” is all you say at first before your voice grows somber and tense, even more than it was minutes prior when you had just finished crying your heart out. Oikawa listens attentively. “You don’t think I’m weak or think any less of me for it?”

“Of course not! Look.” He stands up and gestures for you to follow him. The two of you stop once you reach the window, and he pulls away the curtains.

First, you see your reflection in the glass — a bleary image of your tear-stained face and Oikawa standing beside you, who offers a smile as your eyes meet, setting your cheeks aflame. You quickly divert your gaze out of embarrassment, and you next see the city — a labyrinth of towering skyscrapers and wide, open streets bustling with people and vehicles despite the deluge.

“It’s like this. You see that it’s raining outside, right? Lots of people say that means the sky is crying, the city is crying, whatever. Does the city look weak to you?” he asks.

“No.” You squint your eyes down at all the buildings, the cars, the people, as if it’ll magically improve your vision. You could say that it looks vibrant because of all the lights, that it looks busy because of those who still have places to be. But instead, you say, “It looks alive.”

“Does the sky look weak to you either?”

“No.” You look out at the torrent and the storm clouds and the lightning all at once and think the words to yourself this time: it looks beautiful.

“Then why view crying as a sign of weakness? It’s only a natural response to whatever you’re feeling,” he says. “And if anyone tries to convince you otherwise or says they think less of you for it, I’ll just— I don’t know. I’ll beat them up or something.”

He curls his hand into a fist, holds it up with the base knuckles facing you, and shakes it a bit as if the action is supposed to be menacing. Really, all that does is further dwindle his credibility, especially since you’re confident this man cannot fight for shit, but whatever — it’s the thought that counts anyway.

The ends of your mouth curl up, and a particularly strident laugh escapes you much to your surprise, cutting through the tension with ease. Your shoulders scrunch up and tremble and your eyes fill with tears of mirth as you try to contain your giggles, though it’s too late because Oikawa’s already thinking: he has never seen anything more beautiful.

Your own hand comes up to wipe away your newfound joyful tears once you find the moment no longer amusing. You exhale, like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Do you feel better now?”

There’s a beat of peace and quiet — a shift in the air. Neither of you can hear the thunder anymore. Eventually:

“I do,” you conclude. “I do feel better.”

Outside, the rain relents at last.

[isa-ghost]

I always want more q!phil headcanons, even if there are not asks about it

Oh fuck yeah man. Here's my previous sets if you haven't read them:

Set 1

Set 2

Set 3

And here's more:

He fucking HATES feeling on edge. He's extremely familiar with it, but that never dulls his hatred for the ick it gives him. That knot in his stomach, the flutter in his chest, the reeling in his mind, the fire in his nerves, the tremble in his limbs. That unshakeable feeling that no matter what or where he is, his back is vulnerable. This man wants to be Fight over Flight or Freeze EVERY time, so when he can't control the situation or can't anticipate what happens, he mcfreaks it. How can he prepare to survive when he doesn't know what to prep against? Or in the case of the Ender King business, how can he do anything to prepare against an all-powerful God?

He's struggling a bit with the whole Rose thing. Does he keep her a Death Family Secret? Does he extend her protection to his closest friends like Fit & Ramon? He'd like to give them the same extra layer of security he has from her, even if just to give Fit a little more peace of mind, but he respects Rose & values her & her aid deeply. He doesn't want to stretch her too thin, or worse, come off like he takes her love & protection for granted. It's the one case in which, while very tempting, he resists that urge to be overzealous. He's just torn because he doesn't want to see any of his friends hurt. So because of the way he is, he feels guilty that he has a secret extra oomph to how safe he & his kids are

Speaking of Rose, when there's no immediate crisis at hand, he loves to gush to her about life. He talks so highly of Missa & Fit & Etoiles. He asks her if she's seen the latest silly things Chayanne & Tallulah have done. He rants on and on about the Federation. Can you believe those guys Rose?

He tries and, like in all other situations, fails not to swear around/to Rose. She's a deity, a very.. not exactly formal, but Prestigious deity nonetheless. It's no place for swearing. But Phil is cursed with Autopilot Sailor Mouth so half the time he's dropping f bombs while heated or scared about something, he's not even registering what's coming out of his mouth. Besides, he's gotta focus his train of thought or else them 80 HDs he's got will derail it. Can't be focused on not saying the fuck word

Speaking of ADHD, much like his swearing, he sometimes doesn't register himself vocal stimming either. Boosh boosh boosh, he's tunnel-visioned on his task. The kids & polycule find it endearing to witness. Sometimes they get passed onto other islanders

He thinks Bagi is so fucking cool. Like yeah, it's cool his good friend Cellbit has a sister or whatever but that's not what makes her cool. She's fucking brilliant. She's headstrong, she knows what she wants & what she's looking for. She gets shit DONE. And god help whoever hinders her efforts. He's allergic to giving himself any credit whatsoever, so in his eyes she's a billion times cooler & smarter & more badass than he is, rather than like. A few thousand times cooler & smarter. But yeah, she's a superhero in his eyes

Tbh putting him with either of the Theory Twins is a sight to behold. Phil is a brilliant strategist & very resourceful. There's such strong, immaculate chemistry between this man who loves to think & is a natural at planning, and either of the twins who are good at making the puzzle pieces fit & seeking out nooks & crannies for more info. When put together they truly are a force to be reckoned with to the Federation

When left to his own devices & off-duty as dad + not needed by any of the islanders for something serious, he let's loose. No more wise bad bitch crow man who's palpably emotionally damaged yet won't admit it. He's off the shits. You've seen Eggza. That's him de-stressing by fully indulging his favorite things: preparing necessities for survival & being an absolute wildcard.

I can't tell if I like the idea he legitimately can't see glass bc crow hybrid or the idea that he fakes it to amuse the kids & his friends For The Bit better. Maybe he plays it off like a bit but he legit can't see it. Idk.

I said it in a rant about Phil's characterization and I'll say it again: this man doesn't fucking realize he's flawed. Like he thinks he is but not in the way he actually is. He doesn't recognize his actual flaws as flaws. Or doesn't realize they're flaws. Or maybe is ignoring that they're flaws because he uses them to cope or something. Either way. What this man THINKS are his flaws & his actual flaws are entirely different things. In his mind his actual flaws are something he thinks are normal bc he's just Been That Way for so long.

This one follows the assumption that hc!Phil & q!Phil are the same person but his memory is lost, BUT: while making multiple bases (Phil & Missa, The Nest, Uppies 2, etc) is a strategic move against threats, it's also perhaps... a subconscious thing on Phil's part. Discovering massive, beautiful places & adding his own touches to it to either restore or improve his finds... He can't quite place or even explain why he enjoys this.

He likes to collect things that make him think of his friends & the kids ("oh Tallulah will like this!" "Ooh, Fit said something about needing that!") but because he has that good ol ADHD memory, he'll store it in a backpack for later & then promptly forget about it or get distracted

God, he is so incredibly proud of Tallulah for liking to build pretty things like her farm or botanical garden. She really is su niña <3

[Wants to support Chayanne by being involved in his cooking hobby] [Observes Chayanne cooking] [Absorbs no knowledge whatsoever] :D

He hates the rain. Not only is it a Quesadilla Island Horrors omen, but it's also annoyingly wet & makes for even more dangerous mobs around. Also the bad weather makes his wing pain flare up

If only communicators (meta: in-game chat) allowed for sending pictures. At least then he could send Missa memes while they're apart 😭

Stay tuned, I have like 4 other sets coming because I got asks. :D

[quitealotofsodapop]

[Silly au idea]

Hmm... I'm most intrigued by The Split Soul Route - partly from the oddball and what sort of Nature Vs Nurture can occur here - but I also think the Found Baby in the Dumpster AKA The Bao Route is cute too. Because that's how Pigsy got MK and by the time the group could/does realize who Bao is, they've already gotten too attached to do anything to her.

[In the Shadowpeach route of my "Reincarnated LBD" au idea;]

But I do love me an immortal killing daughter of the Great Sage. Hard choice. Maybe a poll is needed.

[basically Macaque ends up "holding on to" the wild un-reincarnated soul of LBD]

Considering the shit she did, I doubt that he's just 'holding on to', that monkey probably put the soul in a jar and is shaking it like a madman several times a day - like Tom from the Chuck Jones era of Tom and Jerry in the invisible Jerry episode. But more maniacal laughter.

[Will it attach itself to the recently-reconcilled Sun Wukong and Macaque, becoming Yuebei Xing like in the au? Shadowpeach screaming ensues.]

HMMM!

What if they didn't know? Certainly, a ton of adrenaline petering off and a near end of the world could make everyone a little less observant of a stray soul going for a new host?

Don't know what she could even do in that form, but stay tucked away and wait for the chance to get a new body - like, unless she can manage to make Mac horny enough to go to SWK for relief and that's how they make the kid (sort of exes-with-benefits and maybe figuring-it-out-hate-sex), BUT!

By the time Macadoodle figures out he's got a bun in the oven - that's when the Brotherhood thing is happening. He was gonna tell SWK that day, but it all got derailed like the trains in Persona 5, so he kept it to himself until it got resolved.

Then he tells SWK, maybe after the beach party? Just, putting the other's hands over the still-small-bump and him putting it together.

TMKATI-Mac got lucky he didn't indulge too much in his first pregnancy...Yuebei Route-Mac did not get so lucky. Maybe as a sort-of final 'Fuck you' from LBD? XD

They'd figure it out later, but, like in the Bao Route, they're too attached.

And asking Pigsy for help/advice a lot. Pig-daddy raised a good kid, so they're taking notes.

current posts on the "Reincarnated!LBD au"; here (og post + very cool idea for the Ironbull side), here (shadow twins got made on accident), and here (Shadowpeach done goofed).

I'm leaning towards the "Split Soul" route cus I like writing around the chaos of the gang realising that there isn't just *one whole* super-ancient demon soul floating around. Almost mirrors the situation with the Rings of Samadhi.

Basically in her death; LBD attempted to "Piccolo Junior" (ty @dorothygale123) herself into a fresh new body - only for her soul to splinter into pieces. Two were able to be caught in the direct aftermath and stored away for the meantime - but Reincarnation has a 49 day deadline, and if those days pass without a solution the Underworld will repossess the soul fragments themselves.

So whats easier than for the Fragments to become New Souls instead of potientially reforming into LBD? ¯(ツ)/¯

[What if they didn't know? Certainly, a ton of adrenaline petering off and a near end of the world could make everyone a little less observant of a stray soul going for a new host?]

Hehehe.

Lets just say the adrenaline of fighting your possessed former-mate, making him remember what he's fighting for, and showing your parental side, is a Big turn on for a certain pair of monkeys.

But yeah, no one paid attention to how many Soul Fragments got formed in the aftermath.

[-that monkey probably put the soul in a jar and is shaking it like a madman several times a day-]

The thought of Macaque's storage solution for part of LBD's soul being a jar is hilarious. MK probably yells that he's "just making her angry!" when he catches him doing it.

Of course this form of torment is the reason Maccadoodle realises that the soul fragment is suddenly missing after he and Wukong make up...

Downside; Macaque does spend S4 el pregante and not telling anyone. First person to realise whats up is Nezha, who found out completely on accident. ("I turned my back for ONE SECOND, and you and Sun Wukong have two infants, with one on the way?!").

Also at least one member of the Brotherhood smelled that something was Off with Mac and mentioned it to the rest of them. Azure had a blue-screen error moment when he tried doing the math. Mac still kicks asses when he decides to fight, even with Peng taking a moment to mock his "egg-burdened" appearance. Peng gets shadow-slapped into the horizon.

[Then he tells SWK, maybe after the beach party? Just, putting the other's hands over the still-small-bump and him putting it together.]

Omg thats the perfect scenario for how Mac tells Wukong about the baby. They're sharing the shade, in addition to a pair of sleepy shadow monkeys, and Mac just takes Wukong's hand when he's offered the peach popsicle and brings it to his middle.

Wukong's eyes blink gold for a second before he starts sobbing with joy. Lots of loud, gross, sappy kissing ensues.

Bonus+: In theory each of the four New Souls represents an aspect of LBD that was too great for one little kid to inherit.

Yuebei (aka the Shadowpeach baby): Is much like how she is in the TMKATI au. Is a big, kinda-ugly, baby who's started cooking around the time of S4. Messy black fur, pale skull-shaped face marking, six ears and a shocking amount of strength for a newborn. Represents LBD's wrath.

Bao (Freenoodles): Dumpster piglet. Found in the trash during the post-battle clean-up of the noodle shop. Looks like the chubbiest little piglet with wispy white fur & black spots. Was assumed to just be a street urchin orphaned/abandoned in the chaos of LBD's destruction. By the time they realise Bao is even a Fragment of LBD, she's already Freenoodles pride and joy + MK's beloved baby sister. Represents LBD's hunger for power.

Guǐhuǒ (Ironbull baby, name suggested by @aokolpvxs): PIF and DBK planned to have a big big family together long before the complications with Red arose. So when Red Son explained to them about this little unreincarnated soul needing a "home"... who are they to turn down the chance at having a second born after so long? Red didn't even suggest it to them, they insisted. And you *know* that little half-bull princess is gonna have DBK wrapped around her little finger before she even arrives. Represents LBD's pride/decorum.

Shísuàn (Spider gang baby): Part of LBD's soul that got trapped in spider silk, and by-proxy became a spider (specifically a Diving bell) demon egg. Egg is lime green and about the size of a basketball. Despite initial reservations, the whole gang are soon fighting over who gets to name/take care of the spiderling inside. At least until the ginger-haired spiderling hatches and starts screaming with colic. Huntsman finally ends up asking Sandy and the Monkie Kid gang for help once the late nights get too much for him. Turns out the baby spider was just gassy. Has specific "favorites" among the gang, which includes new friend the Scorpion Queen. Represents LBD's mischief/discourse.

The Mayor is hanging around too. Got to keep an eye on where His Lady is after all. Gets beaten up by the gang the second he shows up anywhere. Later even gets beaten up by "His Lady" in the form of baby Yuebei deciding he failed the vibe check.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.64 Babies

The next day was Sophia's first day off, and it was so nice to see her still sleeping beside me when my eyes finally opened. I smiled as I got up to prepare breakfast, remembering we'd have the entire day together for the first time. My goal was not to wake her, but rustling around the kitchen definitely did. She threw her arms around my waist from behind with a breathy good morning. She had such simple way of making me feel loved and appreciated it. I wanted to return the sentiment, but again, I didn't feel like the moment was right.

As we ate, we discussed potential activities to commemorate our first day alone together. Everything I suggested required us getting dressed and leaving the house. But to my surprise, she requested to stay home, put her hair up, and wear sweats. I guess we had done a lot of socializing that week. It didn't bother me one bit, but she wasn't as outgoing and social as me, so I agreed to a cozy day in because any time spent with Sophia was time well spent, no matter where or what.

She gasped as a random thought came to mind.

"The dog! We could adopt our dog today!"

"Oh right!"

We were supposed to do that yesterday, but my impromptu trip to Mama's house derailed that plan. After breakfast, we got dressed and went to the adoption website.

"See anyone you like?" I asked.

"All of them?"

"HA! Nice try."

We had trouble narrowing down our choices and had the agent bring the three puppies we liked the most. We hoped interacting with them would help make the decision easier, but as soon as she opened the crate, those little guys ran out and completely ruined our ability to think straight. They were all so cute and had distinct personalities. How could we choose?

I thought I liked the one with the spots the best. He was very playful but wouldn't stop barking and was annoyingly loud. The adoption lady kept yelling at him, and I could have sworn I saw him giving her the evil eye.

Sophia and I both liked the brown one, so he was a definite yes.

But there was something about the gray one. She kept following me around, probably because she knew we were meant for each other. I couldn't let the adoption lady take her away. Our original plan was to adopt one dog, but I was incapable of choosing between the two. Luckily, it took zero convincing for Sophia to agree to adopt them both, so we became parents of two adorable fur babies.

Their names were Kooper and Rosie. I wondered if they knew each other from the adoption center because they took to each other like dye in melted wax. We watched them play happily together for a few minutes and knew we had made the right decision to get them both. Training and raising two puppies would be tough, but at least they would have each other, and Sophia and I wouldn't have to constantly entertain them.

After watching them play for a bit, we bought feeders, beds, and toys like the responsible dog parents we were. Once everything was set up, we looked around and felt pretty good about this new journey we embarked. Sophia got on the computer to work on her exam prep, and I sat next to her for moral support, scrolling through Social Bunny.

"Can you believe we adopted two dogs?" Sophia asked.

I snorted.

"We're crazy."

"How big do you think they'll get?"

"Hopefully not too big. This house is pretty small, even for the two of us."

I couldn't catch the words as they exited my mouth, and I hoped she wasn't offended, seeing as I never told her how I felt about the house. I was stating a fact, not expressing disgust. But luckily, she agreed and said she'd been thinking about moving ever since I arrived, and the only reason she lived there was because of the cheap rent. She continued that train of thought, but I couldn't hear her over my own thoughts. I'd been trying for two days to keep my feelings inside while I waited for the right time to express them. But I felt something like a volcano building up pressure inside me, and I couldn't stop it if I wanted to.

"I love you," I shouted.

She gasped and clutched at her heart.

"Tell me again."

"I love you."

In what looked like one movement, she went from sitting at the desk to sitting in my lap and kissing me like the world would end tomorrow. Clothes began flying, and before I knew it, we were in Sixam again.

We laid there in a catatonic state for a few moments, panting, sweating profusely, wondering how our bodies could handle so much pleasure. If the woohoo kept getting exponentially better like it had been, I wasn't sure if I could survive this relationship, heh. Sweet Watcher! She was dangerous.

Eventually, I came back to life and got up to see about the ruckus in the other room. I saw a huge puddle on the rug. But when Kooper ran inside and shook himself dry—creating yet another puddle—I exhaled in relief that it was only water from the rain. Our life with those two was going to be action-packed. I could feel it. But I loved those little boogers already and wouldn't have it any other way.

Need to catch up? See what you missed or start reading here!

[kenora-pizza]

My Thoughts on "Emily in the middle"

Based off a conversation I had w/@mean-scarlet-deceiver in the comment section of this post of theirs, because Tumblr comments have a word limit that I wasn't aware of, and I'm in the mood to speak my mind on this.

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

Alright. So. Emily in the middle. The last appearance of Donald and Douglas in the TV show, and imo, a pretty crappy one too. The Caledonian twins, (Donald in particular) are my favourite TTTE characters for multiple reasons, and there are many things in this episode which irritated or straight up pissed me off. And I've been holding these feelings in for months.

Now, to be fair, I did like some things about this episode. The visuals are gorgeous, and I love how they brought back the twins' season 20 theme from 'Love me tender.' They also carried over this thing introduced (and heavily featured) in 'Love me tender' where Donald acts like he knows better than Douglas, much to the latter's frustration. I REALLY wish they could elaborate further on this in another episode. Like maybe this behavior has been a constant but only now is it getting worse. Maybe this behaviour is related to the fact that Donald had to smuggle Douglas into Sodor, and started thinking of himself as the one who had to take charge and keep them both safe. Maybe it's from some sorta paranoia Donald developed regarding their status on Sodor, and for some time after the events of "Deputation," he still felt the need to protect and ensure that Douglas would remain on Sodor. (I don't know, I just came up with this). And the episode concept itself can be considered humorous, but imo, it would have been better with Bill, Ben and maybe Boco, Mavis or Edward.

First off, might as well get the obvious out of they way. The twins are HORRIBLY out of character in this episode. From the get-go, they're arguing about anything and everything, to the detriment of them and the engines around them. The TV show, especially in the CGI era, unfortunately started shifting them towards the very overdone trope of "They're twins and they argue a ton," but they went the whole way with it on this episode and it's flipping awful to watch. Especially at the end, when poor Emily got derailed by a snowball (while we're on the subject of that how the flying fuck did that thing get so big so quickly?) and they started blaming each other for the accident instead of helping or apologizing to her. Also doing seriously irresponsible things like stopping a HUGE ASS train on the main line and blocking the Express, and stopping the same train on a steep incline and leaving Emily to hold it while they bickered and chased each other up the hill. I mean honestly, they were acting more like Bill and Ben: Indistinguishable twins who frequently argue with each other over petty bullsh!t. The Caledonian Twins are absolute badasses who get sh!t done and clearly love each other very much. So why ruin them like this, Mattel?!

Second off.....this is something to do with a specific event (Brace yourselves for a long-ass explanation). In "Break Van," one of the notable events is Donald ramming a signal box (I'll explain). It's played off as an accident, but the book HEAVILY implies that this was intentional, with the line "But Donald didn't say what he was sorry for. We know, don't we?" and Douglas saying "Anyone would think, that Donald had his accident on purpose!" That's a huge wink wink from the book to the readers. And when you stop and think about it, Donald's motivation for this becomes clear. Think about everything that has happened to them thus far. Smuggling Douglas onto Sodor gave both of them a lot to lose, Douglas especially. By the time "Break Van" happens, Douglas has screwed up twice. And then the cherry on the top comes in the form of that motherf%^king Spiteful Brake Van making him late. At this point, the twins KNOW that Douglas is in TFC's black books and would be the one sent home after the trials if nothing is done. So to make TFC's decision more difficult, Douglas would either have to do better, or Donald would have to do worse. Donald chooses the latter option and it works, with TFC explicitly confirming this.

Now, In EITM, Douglas has been telling Emily about various incidents involving Donald from past seasons, and eventually start talking about the signal box incident. And given the significance of that event........it felt pretty darn scummy to hear them making light of that. That made me feel uncomfortable. Like... it's less "heehee, Donald is clumsy" and more "Donald purposefully injured himself and destroyed NWR property in an effort to keep his brother safe." I can see why Donald would be especially angry about this. It couldn't have been painless ramming into that signal box or fun getting lectured by Sir Topham Hatt, only for his brother to make light of it by laughing about it behind his back with another engine. And while we're on the topic, considering the bond between these brothers you cannot, in ANY WAY, convince me that Douglas would EVER talk sh!t about his brother behind his back to another engine. EVER.

Last off.....god, I REALLY feel for Emily in this episode. She may not be one of my absolute favourite characters, but she didn't deserve this, at all. I actually do like the idea of Donald, Douglas and Emily being a fun little trio, and I wish that it could have been done here.

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

Ok wow, this turned out way longer than I expected for my first written Tumblr post. I hope people actually read this. If you reached the end, thanks for reading.

Also, if you wanna see something funny related to EITM, @jammyjams1910 did a fan dub of some scenes from the episode which had me laughing my ass off.

-Kenora

[not-a-space-alien]

Magnanimous Moonrise Chapter 27M

Story masterpost

Complementary chapter

Warnings for this chapter: Domestic violence/intimate partner violence, vampires drinking blood and dehumanizing humans/typical vampire stuff, misgendering a transmasculine character

In this chapter: Valen plans a daring escape with the help of his one (1) simp at his husband’s estate

***

“Mistress, one of the groundskeepers found this outside.  You don't know who it could belong to, do you?  I don't think we've had any guests with children over recently.”

Right.  As the mistress of the house, it was Valen's job to oversee the affairs of the house.  Like the groundskeeping.  And apparently, lost and found.

He shuffled over to the servant.  He’d been feeling particularly low ever since Sebastian’s first hunt party a few nights ago, and being reminded of his wifely duties never helped.

Being in charge of the house was the least of his worries.  Priscus hadn’t insisted on having sex just yet, giving Valen a generous adjustment period, but he knew it was coming.  You can’t put it off forever, you know, Priscus had said with an annoyed smile.

Valen’s train of thought completely derailed upon seeing what object the servant was holding.  It was a stuffed cat.  Not just a stuffed cat, the stuffed cat Lex had given him.  The one he’d cuddled with in the coffin, crying into when everything got to be too much.  He slowly took the cat in one hand, dumbfounded.  “Where…where did you get this?”

“The groundskeeper found it on the patio.”

Valen’s eyes trailed up him, then over to Priscus to check if he’d noticed Valen’s reaction.  He was preoccupied with some business on the other side of the room, fortunately. 

Valen held the cat close to himself, trying not to look too bewildered.  “I don’t know how it got there.”  It wasn’t even a lie.  “I’ll have it washed, so it’s nice and clean for whomever comes back for it.”

The servant gave a polite bow and left.  Valen sat down with it on his lap, very deep in thought.

A very special, sentimental object from Lex and Ari’s house, which he’d definitely left behind in the coffin, all the way across the border in human territory, showing up on the patio outside his door?

Right after he’d gotten a scared phone call to Ari?

The Ari who’d fearlessly charged into vampire territory to snatch Lex back from the blood farms?

There was only one explanation, and his stomach flipped, with fear and exhilaration.  They were here.  That was so stupidly dangerous of them, but suddenly he was desperate to see them again.

He was so ashamed of himself.  Here he was, a vampire safe in vampire territory, pathetically asking for help because he didn't know what to do, and these humans fearlessly charged in to help him at the risk of their own lives.

He couldn't let anyone else find out they were here.

But he wanted to see them so badly he could cry.  Suddenly just knowing he wasn't here alone made it feel like the world had shifted.  The feeling of I want to go home came back, but this time home felt like wherever Lex and Ari were to take care of him.

That was sort of what the cat represented.  Comfort offered among a very hard and serious time.  That was what they were trying to say to him by leaving it here.  We will still take care of you.

He needed to get to them.  He had to be strategic about it.  The stuffed animal had been a calculated move to let him know they were here in a way nobody else at the estate would recognize.  Clever.

Priscus finished talking to whatever business associate had been occupying him, dismissing him and moving back over to Valen.  “Valen, you don’t need to resort to toys.  I got you a perfectly nice cat to suit your tastes.”

The cat.  The cat, Valen had to take the cat with him, too.  Said cat trotted into the room as if summoned, tail swishing like a feather duster.  It was a white cat with luxurious, snowy fur and a pink gemstone-studded collar emblazoned with its name: Snowball.  Priscus picked it up and set it on Valen’s lap.  

“Thank you, dear,” Valen said.  “I do appreciate the cat.”  He hadn’t appreciated the manipulation the cat had represented, but he did like the cat.  Priscus had gotten the cat as a “favor” to “help Valen get settled back in at home,” because gift giving was the only way he knew how to placate him.  Valen was familiar enough with double-edged gifts by now to see what it was really for: to make Valen less inclined to leave.  Priscus could see Valen was distressed and thinking about running away again, and Priscus had made sure Valen could hear him telling the head butler to take the cat to the pound if Valen left and was no longer around to take care of it.

Well, fuck Priscus.  That might have worked on the old Valen, who’d taken a while to notice Priscus’s subtler manipulations.  Valen was going to leave and take the cat.  He sat there petting it for as long as he could without raising suspicion.  Then:  “Darling, I’m going to wash up before bed a bit early today and read in our chambers until you get there.”

“It’s hardly three o’clock yet.”

“I’d just like to read in the quiet for a while.”

“That sounds fine,” Priscus sighed.  He ran his finger along Valen’s neck, pressing a soft kiss behind his ear.  Valen’s skin crawled, but he didn’t pull away.  “I got you some new scented soaps.  Why don’t you use the lilac one today?”

“All right,” Valen said rigidly.

Priscus pulled away.  “We’ll ease into it,” he said, not without disappointment.  He rang a bell to summon Valen’s handmaid.  “Help Valen get ready to retire for the evening.”

The handmaid curtsied.  “Yes, Master Kithrara.”

The cat leapt off Valen’s lap as soon as he started moving.  Priscus walked Valen to the bathrooms with a hand around his arm, then finally left him and the handmaid alone as they shut themselves in the bathroom.

The handmaid started filling the tub and putting the soap in–the lilac-scented one, so she must have been listening.

Valen stood in front of the mirror–vampires could see themselves in modern ones that were not silver-backed–to take his fine pearl earrings off, laying them on the sink.  The handmaid came over and unzipped the back of his dress.

Valen waited until Priscus’s footsteps faded and he was reasonably confident no one could hear them now.  He stepped out of the dress, then turned towards the handmaid.

Her name was Callidora, and she’d been one of Valen’s favorites before he left Priscus.  She was a simple and enthusiastic sort of girl.  Most importantly, Valen trusted her.  “Callidora, can I ask you to do something for me that I need you to keep absolute secret?”

“I would do anything for you, Mistress Kithrara!”  Valen had always been a favorite among the staff for his kindness and down-to-earth attitude.  Priscus certainly wouldn’t have gotten a response like that from any of his manservants.  It wasn’t hard, Valen reflected, to win the adoration of servants when you were surrounded by the most stuck-up, pretentious, condescending pricks on this side of the border.  It certainly helped that when he caught the servants sleeping on the job or breaking rules, he wryly declared that he didn’t see anything.

“This is going to sound strange, but when I was on the other side of the border, I met a few humans that rather caught my attention.  I think they might be outside the estate somewhere.”

“Humans coming this far over the border?  The poor things, don’t they know it’s dangerous!”

“Yes, that’s why I was hoping you could run out there and go see if you can find them.  They’re probably in a beat up old white van, you can try to smell the gasoline.  They probably hid up on the hill where they could watch the estate.  And do be careful not to startle them, I imagine they brought silver with them.”

Callidora nodded very seriously.  “I will!  I’ll do it on my break.  There’s plenty of time before sunrise.”

“Do make sure you’re back inside on time.  I wouldn’t want you to get stuck outside.  If you’re late back to work, just say it was because you were doing an errand for me so you don’t get in trouble.”

***

Valen was lying in his dressing gown on the comfy couch in the bedroom when Callidora came back.  She knocked on the door as usual, and Valen bid her to come in.

When he saw who it was, he peeked his head out of the door to check for Priscus.  He’d been coming in to occasionally check on Valen, to make sure he was actually reading in the bedroom like he’d said he was and not running off somewhere, and then occasionally circling in the hallway like a shark.

He wasn’t anywhere nearby now, thankfully.  Valen pulled Callidora in and shut the door.

“I found them, mistress!” Callidora declared, beaming.  “Just like you said!”

“Wonderful!” Valen said, clapping his hands together.  “Thank you so, so much.”

Callidora held out a folded-up sheet of paper.  “They asked me to give you this.”

Valen took it and opened it.

We’ll be right outside the gate at sunrise.  If you can wrap yourself up like you did before, come outside and meet us there.

Valen folded up the letter and threw it into the fire nearby.  Callidora watched Valen do it morosely.  “You’re going to leave again, aren’t you, Mistress?”

Valen took her hands, rubbing gentle circles in them with his thumbs.  “Yes.  I know I can trust you not to mention it to anyone.”

“Can I go with you?”

Callidora was obviously saddened by Valen leaving, but that did surprise him.  He looked up and saw tears brimming in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Valen said.  “You are such a sweet girl.  I am going somewhere dangerous, and I wouldn’t risk you following me there.  But I will miss you.  I missed you in my first absence.”

Callidora risked going in for a hug.  It wasn’t proper, and any other member of the nobility would have probably slapped her for attempting it.  But Valen just put his hands on her back and rubbed comfortingly.

***

Valen spent the next few hours strategically rearranging things, stashing them here and there, not drawing too much attention to himself, always going back to reading like he’d said he would.

Priscus came into the room as the night wore thin, and thankfully, thankfully, thank God, Valen managed to put off restarting their efforts at producing an heir for one more critical dawn, sparing him at least that further violation.

Valen waited in Priscus’s arms until Priscus had fallen asleep, then slid out of his grip.  He started by walking towards the bathroom to see if Priscus would wake up, but he merely rolled over, undisturbed.

Valen changed course, padding on light footsteps downstairs.  He went into the closet on the first floor, into which he’d moved things on the pretense of trying to make space in the master bedroom closet.  He stuffed a duffel bag full of clothes and valuables–the ones Priscus had taken off of him upon his return, which Valen had hidden in some of the dresses in the closet.  Most of his books were in the library and it pained him to leave them behind, but he could replace most of them.  He just took the few most important ones, which went into the duffel bag on top of the clothes.

Still moving as quietly as he could, he set the duffel bag down next to the cat carrier, which was still in the parlor.  Snowball was asleep on a couch nearby–despite the fact that she wasn’t allowed on the furniture.  Valen walked over and picked her up, and she gave a soft, sleepy whine of protest.

“Sh,” Valen said.  “Quiet now.”

Luckily Snowball was used to the carrier and let herself be shut in it without further complaint, sitting in the carrier quietly.  It had a blanket inside, along with the stuffed cat plushie that had started all this.

Next, Valen changed into the only garment he had that covered almost all his skin:  His wedding dress.  He pulled the gloves up over the long sleeves, letting the layers billow down to cover his feet, which were clad in hiking boots.  It was… a look.  He had the veil, and added more:  A jacket with a hood and long sleeves, a scarf, sunglasses.  He left them down for now, not stepping outside just yet.

There was one thing he had to do first, and it was something he’d been absolutely dreading.

Very, very quietly, he unlocked the deadbolt to the human quarters and came down the stairs, dress bundled in his hands.

There was only one human in the quarters that wasn't braindead from repeated exposure to persuasion.  The only one who wasn’t a hollow shell of a person.

His human.

Priscus had given him his own human, saying Valen didn’t need to worry about catching his own, since you’re going through such a difficult time.  And Valen had thought about what an uphill battle it had been to convince Priscus to let him drink blood packs the first time, and how Valen didn’t have the fortitude to fight Priscus on every single front.  Priscus would only give on so many things, and if Valen fought about drinking straight from a human, Priscus’s patience would run out and he wouldn’t compromise later when he took Valen to bed.

So Valen had been selfish.  He’d given up without even trying.  He used persuasion on his human and bit her.  And he’d used persuasion on her and bit her every day since then.  The idea of going back to being perpetually starved had just been too much to handle.  He couldn’t do it.

So now he had a human.  She was young.  Most humans on this side of the border were.  They were captured that way deliberately, so they would last longer, and most didn’t live to a great age.

He was tempted to leave her behind.  The old him might have left her behind.

But he couldn’t.  He would never forgive himself.  She was fresh.  She still felt things.  She could be saved.

His human sat bolt upright in her bed as he came down, panic on her face.

“Quiet,” Valen commanded before she had the chance to say anything.  “Come here.”

Her face went blank and she obeyed, a helpless puppet.  Her face betrayed no great emotion, though Valen could see tears brimming in her eyes.

He didn’t want to look at her.  Didn’t want to look at the evidence of his monstrousness.  Don’t look away.  Lex and Ari didn’t look away.  Look at what you did.

She had perpetual bite marks on her neck, just like every human in the quarters.  She was going to hate him, and it was going to hurt, but he would set her free and that would be the most right he could do by her now.

He also wanted to take Sebastian’s human with him.  That one was also still lucid.  It was too late for the rest of these mind-wiped humans.

But he was selfish.  He was too scared to do anything that could jeopardize his escape.  There was no way he could go get Sebastian’s human from a different building.  Even just this felt insanely dangerous.

“Do not make any noise,” Valen commanded, voice shaking.  “We have to leave as quietly as we can.  Follow me.”

Valen’s human followed as he walked back upstairs.  He wrapped the scarf around his face, put on the sunglasses, then the jacket hood.  The bridal veil went over the whole thing.

There, he was all wrapped up.  He took his duffel bag in one hand.  “Grab the cat,” he whispered to the human.

She reached down and took the carrier.

Valen strode over and opened the front door.  It was sunny out–of course it was, that was the point.  He was fully covered, no skin showing.  It wouldn’t be comfortable, but he could make it as long as the van was where they’d said it was going to be.

He hadn’t known what the sun felt like before.  He hadn’t gone out in the sun since his last failed escape attempt, which had ended with Bailey and Jerome darting him.  He was scared to go out.

He took a moment to work up his nerve.

“What on earth are you doing?”

It was Priscus’s voice, and that was all the push Valen needed.  He immediately stepped out into the sunlight.  His thrall followed, with the cat, with everything Priscus could use for leverage.

The sun prickled his skin faintly, or maybe that was just the fear.  Priscus watched him with a hard gaze.

The cat meowed.

“You’re mad,” Priscus said.  “Come back in here”

Valen took another step back, further into the sun.

“I can’t keep shielding you from the consequences of your actions, Valen,” Priscus said.  “Stop being foolish.”

Valen stood still for a moment, then slowly lifted one hand up and flipped Priscus his middle finger.

“Real mature, Valen.”

Valen turned and ran.  He was too scared to full-out run, and besides he needed his human to keep up.  But his heart pounded.

He came around the bend and–yes, there it was, the van at the main gate.  Ari and Lex were up front.  The side door opened to reveal Jerome and Bailey, hanging out, arms outstretched for him.

“Come on, baby,” Bailey said, waving him on.  “Get in, we’re going for a ride.”

Valen started crying instantly, beyond touched.  He touched the button to open the gate, and it buzzed and swung open.  He ran into those arms, barely able to see for the sun and the tears blurring his vision.

He fell into their hands, letting himself be pulled up and in, and just held.  And they just paused for one moment longer for the human following him to step in before they peeled out of the driveway, tires smoking behind them.

***

Tag list <3

@aceouttatime

@annablogsposts

@cc1010foxy

@darlingwhump

@dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night

@dokidokisadness

@emcscared-whumps

@melancholy-in-the-morning

@nicolepascaline

@oddsconvert

@pigeonwhumps

@pumpkin-spice-whump

@some-thrilling-heroics

@soursagas

@thecyrulik

@the-scrapegoat

@whuarri

@whump-cravings

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@whumpycries

@whumpsday

@writereleaserepeat

[vattenkokare]

sufin hcs except its written at almost midnight so i wanna sleep and its my train of thoughts that derailed

so i just wanna say it might not be 100% accruate bcs i havent done any medical/history research its just for funsies

1. fins journey on accepting his body

topic of fins body i think as a child he was rlly wild and as a teen he wanted ppl to fear him (when he had to attack) or take him seriously but due to his baby face it sometimes didnt work

due to constant stress (wars, complicated relationship with sweden) he found food very comforting so mixed with his type of body he was just more on a chubby side

he would also get stomach aches from stress and finally develop ibs so ofc he hated all that

it was rather long journey for him cause even tho he would fear swe sometimes he'd show his human side (probably due to being cold theyd often sleep together to keep warm) and swe would more or less intentionally cuddle him which would make him less dysphoric about his body (also calling him cute or other weird compliments that swe would think were adorable)

the real change for him would be actually becoming his own country and seeing he can do much more, be actually taken seriously and be very strong, mixed with some of his own thoughts would make him love himself more and finally fully accepting his body

2. sweden being silly

swe is complicated since in my hc he's autistic but also schizophrenic (or other disorder having some similar issues idk)

as a child he was just awkward and later in life started developing symptoms of schizophrenia, which for people in like middle ages wasnt a thing so they probably thought he was possesed sometimes-

disorders and confusion about his gay identity probably lead him to religious trauma and also were one of the reasons he hadnt confessed for the longest time

ofc fin was scared of him but also had some respect as swe was usually nice to him and was his "leading" nation as fin wasnt a country

so during swedens episodes at first he would be scared for his life, then later getting used to them started understanding and taking care of him as well as he could

swe ofc expressed gratitude in his way like cooking something nice, bringing gifts, taking care of fin when he had rlly bad stomach pains while swe was really cold or rather awkward he still tried to somehow make it up for fin

later with people actually learning about disorders he could be better understood and got the help he could, from fin also when he finally knew what was the reason behind swedens behaviour so then they both created a comfortable space and swe become more open about his emotions tho he isnt perfect still

3. the relationship with them was complicated but the simpliest way to put it will be:

as children they were on their own, later swe "adopted" fin as his friend tho fin was still a feral baby

as teens swe gained more respect so as young adults fin had to stay with him, even if he was scared of swe he had this soft spot as he was nice as he could, just weird

i also hc swe to teach fin how to use swords which swe loved and was really good in fighting that way and later how to shoot, in which fin became significantly better,

when they broke fin went his way and later formed a country so they werent around that much, fin focused on self improvement and his things while swe was more depressed that it was his falut that they "broke up" and was kinds jealous of fin, but in a way that he forgot him

they got together more after and during wars, tho swe helped he was more distant emotionaly not to get hurt and fin kinda holds grudges for earlier ages when swe treated him as his own property (which he did being more or less aware)

finally they get on more friendly manner and learn about new themselves

[heich0e]

two minutes yamaguchi tadashi/f!reader (haikyuu!!) word count: 2k tags: fluff, college!au, spiderman!au, spidey!yamaguchi, unwilling Guy in the Chair!tsukki, accidental flashing, coworkers to lovers a/n: this thought popped into my mind and has gripped me with both hands... if you would like this to be a series.... please let me know

"Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up."

Tadashi's muttered words come in tandem with the ringing line of the cellphone he holds pressed to his ear. In every unbearable second of silence that stretches between each ring, the sound of his frantic footfalls make themselves known.

"Yeah, what?" When Tsukki finally answers, Tadashi lets out a great, palpable breath of relief.

"Hi Tsukki!" Tadashi curses the way his voice pitches up nervously, but he's too busy trying to keep his panting breath concealed to be overly concerned by it, still running as fast as he can towards the approaching edge. "What's up?" 

"Not much," Tsukki sounds suspicious, if not a bit irritated. There's a beat of silence. "You hear about that bridge collapsing downtown?"

Hear about it? 

Yeah, he's heard about it. 

"A bridge collapse?" Tadashi feigns ignorance, eyes flickering down to the chaos unfolding on the city street so very far below him, then back to the edge of the roof he's quickly coming up on. "Where?" 

"South side of town, the second bridge that crosses the river. There's a dozen cars still stuck on the centre-pillar platform of the bridge deck and they say it could collapse any minute."

The edge of the building whose rooftop he's been racing across is just before him now--a twenty metre stretch of open space spanning the width of the city street to the next building, and another thirty to the asphalt below. 

Tadashi swallows hard. 

"Say, Tsukki... I’ve got a favour to ask."

"You better fucking not be,“ Tsukki growls.

"Too late!"

Tadashi leaps, the tips of his sneakers curling over the roof's edge until he's falling down down down towards the earth. 

"Do you have a death wish?” his best friend hisses from the other line, having clearly pieced together exactly what his friend is up to. 

"Sorry, Tsukki!” Tadashi says, but he can't help but laugh a little, undermining the sentiment entirely.

He always likes this part; the fall. He stretches his arm out, carefully aiming up towards the roof of the building ahead of him, and a length of solid, silvery web connects him to it. 

The tug is immediate, g-force hitting him as his body arcs up up up over the rooftop. He lands on his feet, stumbles slightly, and then he's running again. 

"I need you to tell me what time the next train is scheduled to pass through the tunnel under the bridge, Tsukki."

"Why the hell would you need to know that?" 

The sirens are louder now that Tadashi has gotten closer to the scene--the fire department and police doing everything they can to clear the area, though the crowd of onlookers gathering shows no sign of being dispersed. Tadashi swallows his irritation--crowds just make his job harder to do. 

“Job" is a word being very loosely used in this situation; if anything, what he's doing is more like a usually life-threatening (and always illegal) hobby he'd taken up in his oh-so abundant free time—what between the rush of university lectures, studying, and working part-time at a local animal hospital.

"Need to use--" Tadashi grunts as he shucks his backpack to the roof and keeps running, affixing it down with another spray of web over his shoulder lest some bird fly by and set its sights on his half-finished research paper, "--the train to lift the bridge deck up."

He knows that there's a bullet train that travels through a tunnel nestled under the riverbed every fifteen minutes, and that it exits at just the right point near the end of the bridge that the forward momentum should be able to raise the falling bridge deck enough for Tadashi to secure it--if only long enough to get the stranded people off safely--with his web.

"Won't that derail the train?" Tsukki asks flatly.

Tadashi mulls it over as he runs.

"No?" 

“There was nowhere near enough confidence in that answer."

Tadashi can hear the sound of rustling over the phone, and he can see the ill-fated bridge come into view as he hops from one rooftop to the next. 

"Tsukki I really need--"

"I'm putting on my headphones, gimme a minute,” the young man on the other line snaps exasperatedly.

The rustling stops, and Tadashi realizes that Tsukki must be freeing up his hands to look the information up on his phone like he'd asked. The freckle-faced boy--though his complexion is impossible to spot under the cover of his mask--smiles.

"They cancelled the trains." 

A groan is punched out of Tadashi as his plan is foiled. 

"Hey, you--"

"I know what you're gonna say," he cuts his friend off before he can finish the thought. Tadashi pauses on the narrow edge of the rooftop, desperately grasping for another plan in his frantic mind, "I can't just leave them there, Tsukki. I have to do something." 

His friend's breath hitches on the other line. 

"There's one train. It left the station on the south side of the river heading north about ten minutes ago, just before the deck cracked. They didn't stop it because it was already underground, and they don't want it stuck in the tunnel if the whole bridge collapses. It should be coming out on the other side in..." 

There's three heartbeats worth of agonizing silence before Tsukki speaks again. 

"Two minutes."

"Thanks, Tsukki!" Tadashi cheers, springing into action once more. 

"If you die out there I will kill you," Tsukki threatens uselessly. 

"Got it!" 

The call ends.

There are six blocks between Tadashi and the bridge. He counts them as he races from building to building, his heartbeat thumping, loud and wet, in his ears.

Six blocks, two minutes, one bridge, twelve cars. 

And him. 

He crouches as the edge of the last building before the river, poised to jump. His eyes rake keenly over the scene before him, taking in as much of the details as he can. The sirens are nearly deafening this close to the chaos, but he can still hear the terrified screams of the crowd gathering below as the watch the unstable bridge-deck sway ominously ahead of its impending collapse.

His nose twitches nervously under his mask--a habit he's had since he was young but has never quite been able to shake.

The sirens continue blaring, and Tadashi holds his breath. 

He hates this feeling. The fear that threatens to immobilize him. The anxiety seeping from the marrow of his bones, crawling through his veins and seizing his heart. It's always like this, and as hard as he tries it never quite subsides--not until the job is over, the people are saved, and the mask comes off.

He glances at the screen of his cellphone.

One minute left.

He needs to time it exactly right if his gamble is going to pay off. 

The hum of the train builds as it approaches.

He steps off the roofs edge, and then he's falling again.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” 

Tadashi tosses his coat and his backpack into one of the lumpy armchairs in the staff room as he races through the door, yanking open his locker in search of his spare set of scrubs he keeps at work for days like these. He finds them balled up at the back of the locker, pulling them out and shaking them in a haphazard attempt to get the stubborn creases to unfurl from the cotton. 

Once he deems the effort sufficient enough, he grips the back of his t-shirt in one hand at the nape of his neck and tugs it off over his head.

“Don’t think that’s gonna be a feasible substitute for an iron.”

Tadashi nearly jumps out of his own skin at the sound of your voice, whirling around to see you seated at the communal break table pushed against one wall, knees curled up into your seat with you. There’s a steaming cup of instant ramen resting atop the table in front of you, and a battered three-month-old copy of ‘Tropical Bird Lovers Weekly’ that had once lived in the reception area held in your hand.

Your eyes flicker down to his exposed chest, then back up to his eyes—your brow quirking curiously.

“I’m so sorry!” Yamaguchi crosses his arms over his chest to preserve his modesty, his scrub top fisted in one hand and his t-shirt in the other. “I didn’t realize anyone else was in here!”

“Evidently,” you remark. You make a big show of holding your tattered magazine up over your eyes to give him a bit of privacy.

Tadashi rushes to pull his shirt on, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

Leave it to him to not only show up an hour and a half late to his shift, but to flash an unsuspecting coworker—one he’d barely even spoken to since you’d started at the animal hospital a few months prior.

“I’m, uh, decent now.”

You let the magazine fall just below your eyes, peering at him over the crinkled pages. 

“I’m sorry about that.”

“You already apologized, Yamaguchi-san,” you reply with a dry laugh, “twice if we count the one you screamed on your way in.”

“Sorry,” he repeats himself again, then winces as he realizes what he’s done.

A moment of—more than slightly—awkward silence passes.

“You were on the south side of town, right? Near the bridge? That’s why you were late.” You toss your magazine onto the table and reach for your noodles, and Tadashi watches the way your lips purse as you blow over the steaming top, tilting the cup back and taking a long sip of hot broth. 

Tadashi nods, rubbing at the back of his neck. “The trains were cancelled and traffic was nuts on my way here. Total gridlock.”

You hum, setting your cup of noodles back down as you swallow.

“All those people were saved though, thanks to that weirdo in the suit. I saw it on twitter.”

Tadashi’s eyes scan the table in front of you, mostly ignoring what you’ve said.

“Do you need a set of chopsticks?” he asks, noticing your lack of actual utensils. “We keep some extra sets in the top drawer—“

“I just like the broth,” you explain dismissively, reaching for your magazine again.

“Are you serious?” Tadashi asks you incredulously, and you look up at him in surprise—your hand paused outstretched, fingertips just shy of making contact with the glossy pages beneath them.

The two of you don’t talk much—or at all, really—so he’s sure you aren’t used to hearing such an impassioned tone from a usually reserved young man. 

“The noodles are just…like the best part.” He concludes his thought a little quieter than he’d started it. 

You snort.

“Do you want them?” 

Tadashi pauses. He hadn’t had time to eat anything all afternoon, what with all the excitement—collapsing bridges, saving lives, etcetera. But he also isn’t quite sure your offer is serious.

You're difficult for him to read.

“I’m not joking,” you seem to read the hesitation on his face without him voicing the thought. “I’m just gonna throw them out.”

“I don’t know…” Tadashi wavers, but he takes a step forward in your direction anyway, his wrinkled scrub pants still clutched in his hand. “I’m already super late.” 

“I did all the checkups and cage cleaning. There’s not much to do until we do the medication rounds at 6:45.” You shrug indifferently. “Plus, how long is it gonna take you to eat some noodles with no broth? What’s two minutes in the grand scheme of things?”

Two minutes.

It’s actually quite significant, and Tadashi knows that truth first hand.

He sighs, his grumbling stomach winning out in the end, and he shuffles over to slump into the seat across from you. 

You push the cup of noodles across the table towards him, lifting your magazine up in front of your face again.

“Oh, and if you need a set of chopsticks I hear they keep some extras in the top drawer.”

[limetameta]

Played the Last of Us when I was a kid and now I watched the show for the first time and I gotta tell you what this has spawned is a TLOU au in Fmab where Riza and Edward are Joel and Ellie. Al is dead. Blood seal broke trying to save Ed from the infected swarming them. Ed is immune because he did human transmutation. Actually in this au it isnt a fungal evolution type infection per se as much as its a bioalchemy experiment on fungi gone severely wrong so the only people immune are those who did human transmutation because it's fun, chimeras can get infected but it doesn't really spread like it does with humans so they have a longer time before they turn or maybe they need to get bit multiple times to turn. Homunculi ofc are immune because of the ph stone. Want to say that they use a gotcha system where if they get bit one of the souls in the ph stone croaks and not them. Absolutely same deal with Mr I swallow ph stones like a whore Kimblee who doesnt broadcast he has a ph stone so ppl think he's legit immune and they're hunting this mf down for a vaccine.

The author that brought you gnarly scenes such as anything in Black Honour also brings you a scene where Maes has to shoot baby Elicia because she got infected and went wild trying to kill Ed :D

Berthold Hawkeyes house is the best place to be. That man made a bunker decades before anyone thought smth like this might ever happen.

Riza and Ed run into many different folks on their way to figure out what the fuck is happening (this is like set in the 1st month since shit hit the fan so double the chaos - think trains getting derailed because of people going crazy and trying to eat each other - absolute pandemonoum purge type shenanigans where everything is new and the government is losing its grasp on the people)

Riza and Ed are trying to find Roy Mustang whom they only heard is somewhere up north east. Maybe in Central City (it hit it here first and hardest - overrun with infected)

They sent most of the State Alchemist to try and take care of this. But some like General Grand and Colonel Mustang got orders to take care of the infected and make sure it didnt spread - ie theyre the bombs in this au eyy it wasnt enough to do this shit in Ishval guess you need to do it again but in towns with ppl u genuinely know :D !! Horrific shit. Reason why Riza isnt with Mustang and doesnt know where he is.

Radios are down and they need to reastablish some towers that were knocked down.

(Fort Briggs for example in this au would be 0 infected because they kill the infected imediatelly sucks to be u but they are preserving their numbers and they too are in a giant bunker of sorts)

The homunculi are very pissed off about this because you cant use the infected as a soul for their big transmutation circle so Father has put them on Top priority to get to the bottom of this because they are running out of TIME.

Just for shits and giggles. And this rly is the cursed timeline: instead of splicing his daughter with her dog for his recertification exam, Shou Tucker tried doing a lil bit of a bioalchemy experiment with fungi :) because he's such a fun guy eyyy

Riza and Ed are in CC and Riza gets stabbed so this is now Ed's solo arc trying to find medicine for her and anyone to help. He takes her to Christmas dive bar to recuperate. Not a soul to be found there. Everyone is fleeing Amestris. Folks in Resembool are going to Ishval because they know nobody is there in the ruins. Ed doesnt know if Pinako and Winry are even alive but he hopes they are. Someone has to be in this mess.

Ed doesnt rly want to use his alchemy because the more he does the easier it is for these infected to find him. And while he is immune he doesnt fancy losing more limbs to these bastards.

Riza looked super unwell. Ed doesnt know if hed be able to navigate any of this by himself. He doesnt know if anyone he knows is still alive. She is his lifeline at the moment and this means he has to save her. Especially if Mustang is still alive. They gotta meet him and they gotta succeed.

Ed knows the hospital is too far away. But theres got to be a pharmacy nearby or smth he can raid. He has to.

But all of them have already been raided. And the infected are growing in numbers. Yet Ed refuses to go back. He can't let Riza down. He can't let someone else he loves die protecting him.

Through a series of dastardly events, Edward winds up finding a shackled man trying to break free from some infected chimeras. The man is screaming for help and crying and really being pathetic. Ed is the people's alchemist so he will help you pathetic crying man! Winds up saving him. Winds up getting mugged because the seemingly infeccted chimeras and the man are in on a con together to survive.

Edward fights them. Gets overpowered due to numbers. "MOTHERFUCKERS!!!"

"Children these days are so rude :/ "

Anyway after some more back and forth Ed learns this guy is some big shot alchemist from Ishval and asks him if he knows Riza Hawkeye. He needs medicine for her.

The chimeras are all like sorry kid we dont have any medicine.

Kimblee, with a ph stone in him: I could heal her with some alchemy. Our party would benefit from a sniper.

So Riza gets saved via ph stone. Wakes up and sees Kimblee. Imediatelly takes a gun and tries to shoot him.

Especially when she sees his bite marks!! Motherfucker STEP AWAY. Hes like I got these weeks ago!! Liar! No, really! I'm immune! And I'm the Fuhrer President himself *cocks gun*

Fun times lay ahead on their search for Roy Mustang.

[swmoldacc]

For the prompt post: “Are you sure about this?”

I don't know if you wanted a requested pairing, but you write three of my favs so.. dealer's choice.

The words, ‘Are you sure about this?’ still ring heavily in Stiles’ ears. They’re shortly followed by an eye roll from a very gruff-looking Alpha and, ‘Yes, Stiles, I’m sure. Now get out there, you got this.’

He, in fact, did not have it.

It being the rough and tumble he had to endure whilst training with the wolves. Scott may have pulled his punches and linebacker tackles, but he was still a solid mass of supernatural vigor and after two, count them, two pile drives to the gut, Derek finally heeded the standard rule of tap-outs and let Stiles sit out the next few rounds.

He was busy cleaning up a bloody nose in the bathroom when Derek came up behind him a few minutes later. He could hear the rest of the pups still training outside through the small open window above the shower stall. It was a nice day outside, the sun high in the sky, a chill breeze whirling through the trees.

Stiles would have rather spent it inside, but he’d been dragged out of the house with the promise of coffee and breakfast foods. He had no idea he’d be duped into training with the pack on Derek’s old family land afterward.

He’d rebuilt the house one summer, after selling the loft and purchasing the land back. Stiles had helped when he could, but most of the time he’d defer to the pack who had the super strength and fortitude to build such a big estate.

This bathroom was on the first floor and mainly used for guests, but it was one of five sprinkled around the large house, usually between rooms save for the master bath in Derek’s room.

Stiles had never been inside that one.

“Did you know that tilting your head back during a nosebleed doesn’t really stop the bleeding?” Stiles asked amidst shoving tissues up his nostrils. Most of the flow had stopped by now but the sink looked like a massacre had occurred in it.

Derek leaned against the door frame, tucking one arm under the other. He’d decided to wear a gray muscle shirt today and Stiles had to stop himself from staring too long on many occasions. He couldn’t help but look now as he stared at Derek through the mirror, though.

“Nope,” Derek shrugged.

“Right,” Stiles nodded, rolling his eyes and regretting it a second later when it made his nose hurt. “I forgot, you magically heal within seconds. Do you even get nosebleeds?”

“Occasionally,” Derek gruffed.

Stiles had to resist the urge to roll his eyes again. “Cool, so-” He turned around, leaning back against the edge of the sink. “What’s up? Shouldn’t you be watching them?”

Derek glanced toward the open window and back again to Stiles. “Just checking up on you.”

“Well, I’m just dandy, big guy. Swell, even.” He shifted his weight, leaning back on the sink with his hands.

“Stiles-”

“Peachy keen.”

Derek huffed a sigh through his nose, clearly frustrated. But Stiles was frustrated too and he couldn’t understand why he had to do things like this when he clearly wouldn’t ever be able to match their level.

“Would you just-”

“I don’t see the poin-”

They spoke at the same time and Stiles would have continued on with the rant he’d been preparing the moment he set foot inside the house had Derek not stepped into the bathroom and derailed any present thought from his mind. “Shut up for a moment and let me talk,” Derek grumbled, a low growl forming in his throat.

Stiles wasn’t even sure how to respond to that, so he stood, quiet, waiting, and ready to listen to whatever drabble Derek might have to say about ‘pack dynamics’ and ‘how everyone should pull their weight’.

“You could get seriously hurt,” Derek said into the silence between them. “I’m trying to protect you.”

Stiles hadn’t been expecting that. “I’m sorry, what?” He’d set himself up to listen to the rantings and ravings of a frustrated Alpha and his wayward human, not the quiet concern he could just barely hear in Derek’s voice.

Derek sighed again and took another cautious step toward Stiles. He couldn’t back up anymore or he’d risk falling into the sink and he was pretty sure the back of his pants was already ruined by any of the blood spatter. “You need to be able to protect yourself. I - We won’t always be there to watch out for you.”

He knew what Derek was trying to get across but arguing was second nature to Stiles. The urge to question and pester was just as a part of him as the skin on his bones. “I don’t need you guys to watch out for me.”

Something flashed across Derek’s face and for a moment, Stiles thought he saw something akin to disappointment flare in his eyes. Stiles swallowed past a lump forming in his throat because he never wanted to disappoint Derek. It was just difficult to do what he wanted.

“You’re right.” And just like that, Derek was shutting down. Stiles could see it, feel it, and knew he didn’t need heightened senses to realize that the disappointment Derek was feeling wasn’t for him. It was for Derek. He’d spoken up and said something on his mind. Showed a sliver of vulnerability and Stiles had cut it off at the quick.

He hadn’t meant to, he just wished everyone would just stop worrying about him. He didn’t deserve it.

Derek turned to leave and Stiles did something stupid. He reached out, pushing himself off the edge of the sink, and grabbed at Derek’s arm to get him to stop. It was easy enough. Now all he had to do was speak.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles sighed. “I’m just - upset. I mean, you can’t mess with the money-maker,” He smirked, pointing at his face and trying to lighten the mood. Derek turned around but he didn’t exactly look all that amused. Stiles’ smirk fell and suddenly he realized just how close they were now, how warm Derek’s arm was underneath the palm of his hand. He released his hold as if burned to touch the wolf and sighed again. “Sorry, I-”

Derek wasn’t going far though, nor did he look offended by Stiles’ abrupt retreat. He towered over Stiles, took a brave step toward him, and looked down at him a moment before he reached out to grip his tiny shoulders in massive, warm hands.

That lump in Stiles’ throat was growing, along with the rising levels of embarrassment mixed with anxiety that was normally at a high but now felt like they were skyrocketing up and out into the room.

“We - I can’t always be there to fight with you. I need to know that you’ll be okay when I’m not.”

Suddenly training wasn’t that difficult of a request anymore. He could do it. He’d endured worse over the past few years, right? Sure, he’d end up with some bruises, maybe a broken bone here and there, but looking up at Derek right now made all those impending dooms feel like they were tiny and insignificant.

Stiles sighed. His shoulders, along with Derek’s hands, slumped a little. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be back out there.”

“Are you sure about this?” Derek asked, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. It was the kind of smirk Stiles wanted to eat up, but that was a hill to climb for another day.

Huffing a chuckle, Stiles offered up a smile instead, slapping a hand down on one of Derek’s shoulders.

“Yeah, we got this.”

Thanks for the prompt! It’s been a bit since I’ve done much Sterek so I went with them for a light, fluff piece :3

For anyone else whose looking for some prompts for me to write, visit —> here!