#her eyes should be a brighter yellow (and her clothes should be a brighter blue/yellow) but I thought it might ruin the pallet

[dazzelmethat]

Been trying a 'Paint first sketch later' approach. And It is fluid and nice. But it leaves me with multiple stages of my searching in the painting that I like.. but also a sketch that fails to capture what I like best about all the 'searches.'

Featuring my oc Zina.

[bitumz]

Title: A withered Rose still has its thorns

Pairing: Cooper Howard / Lucy MacLean

Word count: 4k+

Rated: T [angst, depictions of past violence, hurt/comfort, mentions of death and loss, happy ending]

A/N: this was written for the incredible @valeriarts for this beautiful fanart they made me, and was heavily inspired by this insane Beauty and the Beast Ghoulcy Fanart they entered into the Ghoulcy Atomic Blast Event! As such, this responding work is absolutely riddled with BatB references, but is lovingly set in the Fallout canon world because I am an absolute goon for the old music and wasteland setting. A tale as old as time... Ao3 link

~~~~~

One year has passed since Lucy pulled the trigger on her own decayed mother, withered away and rotted from the inside out by the inevitable cruelty of the wasteland. A necessary evil she still tries to console herself with on such a gruesome anniversary, though these days the grizzly voice chiding her in her mind doesn’t sound like her own anymore. And Lucy thinks she's starting to realize exactly how decay feels.

One year of failed leads. Shattered expectations. The growing pains of being remade into a woman more familiar than she should be, even well beyond the reflection of a mirror. 

The old shopping center she and Cooper find themselves in that evening is almost painfully similar to the Super Duper Mart, old clothing and clocks, and half burnt candles and varying arrays of other decorative knick-knacks scattered about like hastily flung debris across the rotting floors. But unlike the mart, high walls divided large sections of the space, reminding her even harsher of the vault rooms back home, centered just so by a long, splaying hallway that seemed to go on for miles into the shadowed corridor. An old mall Cooper had called it, but to Lucy that meant nothing. 

She'd done what she could to keep her distance from him that day, him never being one to appreciate her foul moods, and instead of calling out the blood curdling hypocrisy of that whole idea (and the inevitable fight that would follow), she bit her tongue and did her best to sulk alone, in only the company of a few blessedly silent clothing displays and dusty bedroom furniture. 

One of the former caught Lucy’s attention more than the others, a headless mannequin donned in a flowing silk gown, royal blue cut through the middle with a bright yellow sash that drew in the curves of the waist and cascaded floor length at the rear with the rest of the flowing hemline to trail like a river of molten gold across the moldy tile. 

Her mother had always disliked her in dresses. And Lucy can't help but remember the hazy bits and pieces of her fifth birthday. Of her father presenting her with a beautifully boxed up gift. Her mother's disbelieving scowl over at the man as Lucy held the soft floral material up against her chest and beamed at her own reflection in the vault bathroom mirror. They way her father twirled her around the room in it for many a birthday after that, with only Norm, a few aging Cooper Howard movie posters, and blinding fluorescents overhead as audience, pride already flashing even brighter in her father’s eyes as every year she grew more and more into the perfect daughter she was expected to be. And though Lucy had been too young to consider yet just where that gift could have come from, those memories now scathed in the shadows, somewhere deep beneath her bones like a bustling city of thousands of people being blown to nothing more than ruin and ash. 

And at this point, after fighting through all the many foul factions of the wasteland for just over a year and searching for a sense of fairness and freedom for so long before, she was so so far beyond sick of monsters masquerading as man. 

It was why slipping from the confines of her vaultsuit and stepping into the rolling blue and gold layers of silk felt something like lying. Like putting on that ill-fitting wedding dress again and continuing to do as she was told. Adding her name to the list and filling the role set upon her from the very moment she came out screaming like a wild beast into her mother's arms and a carefully crafted existence. 

She tugged her own suit up the slender plastic hips of the mannequin in trade. Zipped it securely closed with the final brush of her hands tenderly across the shoulders.

The worn leather slacked too big around the petite figure, and Lucy felt her own muscles clench the slightest bit in her newly exposed chest and upper arms. Her time away from the vault had made her only stronger. She could feel it in the easing of their long days trudging through the sand and restless nights with Cooper beneath the stars. In his harsh lessons and even harsher truths. But looking back at her mother’s last little hand-me-down gift as it sat wrong on the headless figure before her made her feel a bit like a child again; lost and alone in a world that was still so very much too big.

So she did just as she would when she was little. Turned the oldies station on low on her Pip Boy. Sat cross legged upon the cold dingy floor. Sought out her mother’s advice.

“I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to do here.” Lucy said, eyes falling to her mismatched fingers in her lap. She curled them loose into the soft pile of golden fabric. “I wasn’t so sure I was going to make it through mourning you the first time around…” she admitted soft, swallowing at the pain rising heavy in her throat. “But this… now… knowing everything I do… I- I understand why you left. And I’m sorry I couldn’t help sooner… I’m so sorry…” And Lucy had long run out of water to waste on tears so she only clenched her fists tighter over her thighs. Waited quietly for a reassurance that would never come again, receiving only silence in answer apart from the lilting voice of Skeeter Davis softly reminding her from her wrist that the end of the world had already long since passed. 

Lucy could only blame her time above for being able to sense him well before she heard Cooper’s spurs clanging softly up the hall. And had it been even just a few months ago, she would have moved. Rose from the ground and stuck on a fake sunshine smile to avoid his prodding. Stood tall and still in the shadows like a predator in wait. But if he was going to continue to track her down every time she sought out solace, he was going to get what he got. Real and raw and just so very tired. 

“There ain’t shit for supplies,” his rumbling voice started before rounding the corner, “but I did find somethin’ interestin’ you may wanna have a look at wh…” Cooper stilled like the dead in the shattered frame of the once glass door. Rendered entirely silent, though she could feel the burn of his eyes across her newly bared arms, the curves of her shoulders, her dark hair falling loose and wild down her back. “What the fuck are you doin’?” He finally managed, sounding much farther away than he actually stood.

“Oh you know, just talking to my mom.” Lucy spoke flat to the mannequin, unmoving. “You’re interrupting.” She added in dismissal after a long dead-silent moment, but she only heard his boots close in closer behind her. 

So she held her breath and waited for the snide response to drawl from his lips. Something like ‘radaway’s losin’ its touch huh?’ she imagined first, or ‘Rose musta not took all the crazy with her when she left that fuckin’ vault...’

But as the pair of taunts grew hotter in her temples, nothing of the sort actually came from him... Which was odd enough in itself to make her finally look back over her shoulder. 

What she found was a world weary man who looked as lost as she felt. The darkness of the decaying building clinging to the protective cloak of his duster like a long drawn curse that was pained to let go. He carried the weight of his own deep in the lines of his scalded face, wearing his own many anniversaries of suffering in scattered jagged scars, jaw tense as if he fought not to set free a rising snarl at the sight before him, browline drawn beneath the shadow of his hat like she’d spoken a foreign language he couldn’t quite grasp. 

He eyed her hallowed vaultsuit as if personally affronted… Looked back down right at her, dark eyes sparking with something near that impenetrable mask of anger he so easily slipped on as they trailed slow down across the gathered yellow silk she fidgeted with at her waist, to the elegant tendrils of blue haloing in a wide puddle around her on the floor, shielding nearly as much of her body as the suit had, but still leaving her feeling so incredibly exposed to his studiously searching eyes. 

“What is it?” Lucy asked after a moment, unable to take the scrutiny any longer, heart rate rising as she shifted where she sat.

And Cooper blinked as if hearing her for the first. “What’s with the getup?”

Lucy forced the breath from her nose, long and heavy. Tugged a bit of the fabric up in a false curtsy. “Oh this old thing?” She tried to tease but fell flat. “I've never had a dress of my own, you know? Always something borrowed… and Mom used to say blue was my color.” Lucy smoothed the silk back down over her hips, missing the way the claim struck Cooper’s expression like the hail Mary of a well aimed brick. “My eyes, I guess.” She shrugged away.

“No.” Cooper disagreed low after a long beat. “It ain't your eyes.” Then he took the two last steps to stand near her side. Reached down a hand. “C’mon I wanna show you somethin’.” And for a moment Lucy sat unmoving, glancing away from Cooper’s gloved offering up to the plastic shell of her mother one last time. “She ain't goin’ anywhere.” Cooper promised soft after a while of watching her struggle, in a way Lucy now knew that only he had every right to vow. And it's what finally drew her hand out slowly into his. 

“Alright,” she breathed. And she rose.

—

The shop Cooper led her into was stacked floor to ceiling with disheveled shelves of books. Old wooden tables and chairs lined the front walls. Rows of cabinets had once cut lines through the center, now tipped and scattered by previous scavengers who must not have appreciated the incredibility of the rare bounty before her. But Lucy, however, was already mentally sorting through the contents of her pack and deciding what could be left behind to make more space.

It was the candlelight that eventually distracted her from the task. Lit aglow and sparsely set across the floor and on a few of the sturdier looking bookshelves all around the room, burning just bright enough to clear the murky darkness from the space…and it was the consideration of such a thing that emptied her chest, had Lucy steepling her hands over her mouth and gaping wide eyed all around her at the beautiful sight, the sheer number of books alone putting the vault’s ample collection to shame. But it was the man stood behind her in the darkened doorway that stopped her eyes. Silhouette framed in the soft glow of fire, features hidden almost entirely from view, but like the constant pull of the moon on the tide she could feel the weight of every ounce of his attention on only her. 

“Cooper,” Lucy called low, letting her hands fall slow to her sides. “This is incredible. I've never seen so many books in my life.”

And he ambled forward at his name like a bloodbug drawn to the life pumping quick through her veins, sharp features softened by the warm glow.

“Really?” He drawled in that way that preambled the rudeness she'd so long been awaiting. Downplaying the situation every time it got too close to - something. And he was never one to disappoint. “I thought all that Vault Tec propaganda down there would at least rival a two bit bookshop.” 

Lucy raised her eyes and turned away. Took another look about the room. Made her way to the closest shelf of books and let her fingertips brush lovingly across the dusted spines. Stacked a few aside that she had every intention of not leaving without. 

“It wasn't just propaganda,” Lucy informed, his jab unable to reach her properly through the soft flickering of flame. “Vault distributed media was delegated and traded by the overseers.” She sought him out again with the turn of her neck. “And as you know, ours was particularly fond of fairytales and cowboys. Villeneuve and Wister. That sort of thing. Not to mention the movies…” her smile was mean, a brazen curve of her lips.

And Cooper said nothing in riposte, instead simply closing the space between them with slow, lazy steps. Rested a hand against the shelf on either side of her head as she turned to face him, closing in and casting his shadow across her in a way that once would have made her feel small. 

Lucy only raised her chin, held his eyes above with the fire flickering hot in her own.

“Is that really what you wanna be doin’ today?” He asked her, a near growl as it rolled so close from his chest. “Defendin’ your daddy?” 

And the reminder twisted in her ribs like a spike, aimed and true; memories of laughter and life and being twirled around in loving arms slowly, agonizingly morphing into something more fowl in her gut like her father's guiltless eyes as he'd finally confessed aloud his many many sins down the barrel of a gun… Her mother's meatless corpse sagging gaunt in a chair nearby…

“Dance with me.” Lucy blinked, only truly registering the words as they settled skewed into her own ears. The violins dipped and drew out the start of Billie Holiday's, Crazy He Calls Me from her Pip Boy between them like a taunt and there was no better title for the way Cooper’s sharp eyes searched her face.

“Do what now?” 

“Dance with me.” Lucy repeated, just as unshaken. “You're right.” She nodded in truce. “I'd rather make new memories today than dwell on the old ones and my options are you or the mannequin.”

Cooper gauged her expression from mere inches above. Looked as if he awaited the splintering of her sanity beneath his glare. For the flinching call of her bluff as he raised his chin and thinned his eyes in a move she’d watched him use on countless others to sweeten a deal or seal a sentence. But Lucy only popped open the latch of her Pip Boy. Sat it nearby on the shelf. Held her hands out to him palms up in the dwindling space between them…

And Cooper took a step back and away. Squared his shoulders as if she had thrown a fist instead of anything near the beginnings of a dance. 

“Mannequin would suit better.” He said in faint protest, stilling only a moment longer to meet her unyielding eyes before sighing, shrugging his duster from his shoulders and draping it over the back of a nearby chair. Pulling his gloves off and dropping them unceremoniously into the splintering seat. 

And Lucy felt an altogether new sort of apprehension as he neared this time, sturdy arms straining against the worn fabric of his rarely seen sun-bleached undershirt. His bandolier of hastily crafted bullets glistened like sharp teeth across the visible rise and fall of his chest. He held a single bared hand out to her in offering, allowing her to take either that last fateful step forward or a silent final out…

And the thrill of it all was the best distraction she could ever ask for.

The fine hairs at the back of her neck rose in warning as she took this newest challenge in stride, just as she had the many before. “I don’t doubt it.” Lucy returned, resting a ruined-fingered hand over the solid curve of his shoulder. Cooper slipped her left into his and she couldn’t help but stare at that way her own something borrowed still looked pale and small against the rest of Cooper’s hand, wrapping warm and rough around her own. His other burned like a brand against her waist just as Billie sang of her own willingness to walk through fire and with it they were moving.

Cooper was a startlingly natural lead, sure in step and direction, guiding her along in soft curves of motion as if on instinct alone, whereas she stepped between his boots in thought absorbed angles, and it was a pre-war skill Lucy would not have imagined he cared to retain until that very moment. He’d always spoken so little of that time of his life, apart from Janey. And even if they weren’t spending an evening attempting to forget, she at very least knew better than to outright ask why. 

The thought brought her foot down hard on his for what she guessed was the second or third time judging by his growl.

“That supposed to be a two step?” Cooper rumbled over her instead. “‘Cause you’re movin’ like a goddamn sheet of plywood down there.”

And Lucy laughed a breathy thing at the very real exasperation in his tone.

“I’m distracted is all.” She forced herself to meet his eyes, so close and scalding in the candlelight. Reminding her even more of the last time she’d seen him display such a talent. The same way her father had taught her so many years ago… and she just couldn't help herself. “I remember this from the scene right after you killed Joey… Where you went back to town and danced with the widow in -”

“Deadhorse ya,” Cooper scathed in answer, spinning her silent in an almost violent twirl out to arms reach before snapping her back, her spine pressing flush against the buttons lining down his vest so that the “don’t start,” was hissed directly into her ear. It effectively scattered her thoughts and sent gooseflesh rising down the exposed skin of her arms for a much different reason than she knew was intended. But then he stilled them. Kept a forearm wrapped firm across the front of her waist. “Kick them boots off so you don’t take my fuckin’ toes too.” He nodded down over her shoulder, the brim of his hat brushing against her scattered hair. 

And she continued to follow his lead, shaking off one and then the other. Turned around again with minimal restraint as he took notice of her intention to face him once more. Lucy filled her lungs with the faint scent of old leather and smoke as his coarse fingers dragged slow patterns across the soft silk gathered at her hips. This time she brought both hands up to his shoulders. Felt his own slide home in a near perfect fit into the soft curves beneath her ribs. 

Then they were moving again, easier, a more natural sway that brought him the slightest bit closer. Allowed her to truly see his features painted warm beneath his hat in the firelight. Those most others would deem ugly, the proof heard often enough in wretched slurs and slithered curses from near every small bit of civilization they passed. But here in the safety of their solitude, the candles flickered deep against the rugged hollows of his face and brought somehow more life to his hazel eyes. And though they had always been so incredible to her, those eyes, something about the way the glow sparked in them now, subdued and scorching back at her in equal measure, was almost another distraction worthy of misstep. 

And she’d been doing so well until her eyes dropped to the side. Focused on the scattered splotches across his shoulders that proved his threadbare shirt had once been blue…

The music built and curled around them unimpeded by the realization, trumpets joining in with the strings to round out the repeated claims of being insane for all a number of reasons and Lucy couldn’t help but look down at her own feet again, strained and self deprecating as she focused on not stepping down onto his with the way her heart sped and cheeks flushed. His hands flexed at her waist.

“Relax.” Cooper bid low, undoubtedly sensing her struggle in her missteps and the growing tension of her muscles. “I ain’t in the mood for sparrin’ today and my drawin’ hand’s otherwise occupied, so you’re only fightin’ ya self.” 

The upward curve of his bowed lips and drawl of his words spoke only truths, something almost sad touching his eyes, and Lucy found trusting in him still came all too easy. She watched as the rise of his browline painted a told ya so look across his face while she focused only on her own breaths and the warmth of his tender hold about her waist, her movements growing more and more fluid between those very same hands that she’d seen reap death and destruction with ease for just over a year now in search of her father and the answers they were owed. Coming up just short on near every lead and tumbling almost as violently into each other's arms in one way or another so often now that it seemed only necessary for survival. 

“Perceptive.” She said finally. 

But this was something else… It was just so…

It was simply different, Lucy decided, rising up onto her bare toes to press her lips against Cooper’s just because she wanted to. Taking unapologetically in a way that he had been forcefully tearing into her from the beginning. And she softly parted her lips over his unmoving ones. Waited for the beast to surface and rear its fangs or draw its claws. To push her away with a shove or back her forcefully against the nearest surface in a deliciously dizzying coin toss of chance. Because, yes the beast was in there somewhere she knew well enough, but it was Cooper who had pulled her up from the floor of her vigil. Cooper who’d lit the candles that warmed the air around them; of a bookshop of all places. Cooper who still distracted her from her woes now in dance… 

And it was Cooper who kissed her back. Took her face into the sanctity of his hands to tilt and deepen it, his lips a hot brand across her own as he held her steady and tasted her slow in languid shallow swipes of his tongue along her lower lip. He parted from her just long enough for Lucy to draw a greedy breath from the shared air between them. Then he kissed her again, another sweet short press of his mouth over hers before he whispered “I gotcha somethin’ else,” near voiceless into the corner of her moony grin. 

Then he leaned back just enough to meet her eyes, his own expression sobering like he stood on the precipice of some great divide, and Lucy dared him to jump with the slight tilt of her head in question. 

Then he pulled out a drooping flower from the pocket of his slacks. A sun-bleached plastic rose that must have once been red before the end of the world and the crushing hands of time; petals welting and half melted... And her heart did a funny painful pair of skips in her chest at the sight of it held out to her in his own repeatedly scarred and sewn together hand. 

“What? It ain't enchanted or some shit.” Cooper said harsh, shifting an inch on his own two feet. A first misstep since they started this new dance. “I just know what it's like to not have a grave to mourn is all.” He tried again. “Don’t read too much into it.”

And what a feint it was to reach for in a room set aglow, filled to the brim with warmth and music; bound leather and parchment... 

Lucy’s smile was all straight white teeth.

“Of course not,” she succumbed, taking the rose from him carefully and tucking the stem safely away into the sash of her dress so that her hands were free to reach back out for what she really wanted. “I never really liked reading anyway,” she soothed, wrapping her wrists loose about the back of his neck and looking past him at a few new titles that would be soon added to her pile. “Though my bag has been feeling awful light lately.”

And Cooper chuckled soft, a deep rumble from his throat. 

“Fuck the books,” he said, breath ghosting warm against the sensitive skin at the side of her neck. Then his hands slid heavy through the silk pooled low at her back, drew her in close against his chest. “Pack the dress.” 

And for a long long while they danced together and forgot. 

[xxl1zardb3ansxx]

TADC AU time!

Since everyone's doing it thought I might make a TADC AU!!!

It's about Mire, (Not me the character) Faltor, Filorin, Falia, and Sninlia! The original characters are included too though!

Mire: Their head is an animated scribble that you can ever so slightly see the shape of an eye something. They wears a light-ish pink hoodie and black jeans, with one purple and one blue sneaker. However, when they are depressed, they wear a black and red striped over-sized sweater, with black runner sweatpants, and simple black and red sneakers with skull designs on them. They have the ability to basically transform their arms into tentacles to reach stuff. However, their entire body is actually made of one really long line thus they can only stretch so far. They can also store things in their stomach like it's a void of holding. Because of this, Jax likes to randomly shove stuff into Mire. They play the guitar and have anger issues. (Hint VERY gay)

Faltor: His head is a 2nd grader's impression of the sun. A yellow circle with yellow spikes. Yep. He has one eye placed vertically in the center of the sun shape. His iris is blue, but his pupil only shows when he's mad. Also when he is mad, all his visible outlines get fuzzy and static like. He wears the same demeanor of clothes as Caine just with different colors. Black button-down shirt with a white suit vest over it. The vest has a blue lining and little light blue clouds on it. He wears a blue ribbon around his neck, tied in a loose bow. (Although I should note that the sun shape floats a few inches above the neck.) He has white pants, and black fancy click-clack shoes. (Idk what they're called XD) He eats and drinks by just dumping the said food/drink in his neck. Jax likes to run his hand in between Faltor's neck and head, bc he's thinks it funny bc he's dumb. (Fight me)

Filorin: His head is a flame, glowing brighter or dimmer depending on his mood. He wears a simple back wool button-up shawl, covering his torso. He wears dark navy blue pants and simple buckle leather boots. He also has a little brown leather satchel. His eyes are little white circles that float a centimeter or two in front of his head. The circles are usually semi-circles as he is tired most of the time. He is very shy, and hates talking to people. (Unless it's Faltor) Yes, the fire that is his head will hurt and burn other people/items. Jax likes to toss random flammable objects into Filorin's head, to see if he can land a shot and watch it burn. Even though he hates talking, some people still try to be friends with him.

Falia: She is viewed as gorgeous by the other circus members, (Except for Faltor and Filorin and including Caine) Her head appears to be made of ink in a smooth sphere. She has a silver crescent moon shape on the front of her face, and a large purple eye filling most of the empty space left. She appears to be wearing 4-point star earrings (Despite having no ears) She wears an elegant black spaghetti noodle dress, that flows down, were there is almost a cape like section of the skirt that drags behind her. It seems to flow into stars and nebula's, looking like a piece of space was placed upon her dress. She has a cool, collected and royal manor. She speaks in a calm almost dead voice, the same every time. And no she doesn't get mad, or sad, or anything! That would be silly... (Heh heh, trauma related) Faltor is her brother, and she views his fondly. Jax will occasionally just...take scoops of Falia's ink to throw at Filorin. She acts like she doesn't care.

Sninlia: Sninlia's head is a snow flake. It has a very intricate and complicated, yet graceful design. (Which is why it makes it so difficult to get the shape back every time Jax melts her head) She wears a royal looking robe, (very similar to kinger's) except it's icy blue, and has icicles coming out the bottom. A light snow also drifts from the bottom of her robe, so you can always tell where she's been. She is rather quiet, but when she does speak she is very serious. Jax makes fun of her a lot for this. Jax also finds it fun to use Filorin's head to melt Sninlia's snowflake, forcing her to go place it in a mold like thing and freeze it again. Sninlia and Falia are dating (Although neither of them will admit it) and they are very close. Despite how Sninlia seems, she loves dancing to classical music or just dancing. She favors music quite a bit and will sometimes even listen to Mire play guitar, even though it's most definitely not her style of music. Sninlia is also Filorin's sister, and she wishes he would socialize more.

Jax: He is much more annoying with these new peeps around. Although, Caine and Bubble have noticed him blushing a little when he's around Mire. (Don't worry guys this isn't a cannon ship!)

Caine: He has a really big crush on Falia and has no idea she's already dating someone.

Ragatha: Yes, ButtonBlossom is cannon, but she likes hanging out with Filorin and Falia. Sometimes Mire, but only if she sees their lonely.

Pomni: She loves her girlfriend very much, and likes hanging out with Filorin. Although not that often, because she gets a bit weirded out by him.

Kinger: He didn't really like any of them but if he had to choose one to hang out with, it'd be Faltor. So they could autism together.

Gangle: Prefers to just hide from Jax, but occasionally try to talk to Filorin. *Ahem,* emphasis on the try

Zooble: Hangs out with Mire a lot and doesn't like any of the rest of them.

I post more about it if y'all send me some asks.

[froppy-butterflyfan2000]

It is a weekend morning in the city of Townsville. Instead of eating breakfast cooked by her godmother, Bloom, Stella Junior decides to head for Chillaxation instead. It is the weekend now, that means she has the day off from Roxy’s Townsville Animal Rescue Park. Stella decides to tied her hair by a night theme ruffled ribbon in a small ponytail to the left side of her head with the rest of her hair loose. A bedazzled denim jacket over her crescent moon patch black t-shirt, a purple skirt, and purple sandal heels for footwear. Stella Junior head out by walking on foot, taking the Townsville transit bus, and with magic from her Moon Sticks. As she reach for her destination, Stella Junior could see the cashier, who’s taken her order for Sapphire Diamond and Enya and the pixies’ order, coming. It would seem that she been going on an early morning jog.

Stella Junior waves a hello to Holly Test. Suddenly Stella Junior felt cold, her whole body shivered. “Why it is so very winter cold right now?” Stella Junior asked to herself. Frost is forming on her face and Stella Junior can see her breath. Her eyes are widened. Winter must be coming early. Stella Junior groaned, realizing she had find the perfect winter fashion that is stylish and to keep her warm. She wish she is back on Solaria because unlike Earth, this planet has longer days, brighter sunshine, and a longer summer.

“Hello.” Said a wheezing and tired Holly Test. Her legs are twitching and body shaking. The salty liquid comes out of her skin’s pore after an excessive jogging. Her sweat-stained workout clothing clung to her body, causing Stella Junior’s skin to crawl and gape in disgust . “Let me get the key…… *wheeze* I will open the coffee shop…… *haa* My dad is coming and the others arrived later, oh gosh… I’m dying!…”

Holly slips her hands into her pink and yellow sweatpants’ pockets. She found them in her left pocket. There, Holly unlock the door, entering the coffeeshop, switching the light of the lanterns on. Stella Junior enters the coffeeshop shop, being the first (unofficial) customer to arrive. She goes to the counter and order something for herself: a bacon, sausage, and egg wrap and a ssuk latte. Since the employees will be arriving later to have the coffeeshop officially start running, Stella Junior decides to picks a book to read from the bookshelf. She select Eleanor & Park from the bookshelf, taking it to an empty table.

‘Maybe I should have breakfast with Bloom and Enya.’ Stella Junior thought to herself. Stella Junior see three super-heroines and a familiar superhero coming inside the coffee shop.

“Hey everyone……,” Holly greeted tiredly.

Stella Junior hears a few replies, a grunt, and a groan. Oh jeez, even Ethan is here. Stella Junior has flashbacks of them sparring, she reverberated the memory many times through her brain. He seems quiet. Too quiet. Maybe it is now it is now the right time to talk to him . They must be an associating with Ethan as well. Droids came out of the kitchen, holding out a tray of drinks in each robotic arm.

“One yuenyeung for Dragon Girl and one large Rainbow Surprise Smoothie for the Bunny Girl,” said The droid. “One small chocolate strawberry smoothie for the Bee Girl.”

“Thanks,” said Candy dryly. She stretched her arms. Then Sunny grabbed her large rainbow smoothie. “So glad it’s Saturday.”

“Really Holly?” Said Sienna, grabbing her small chocolate strawberry smoothie. “I pre-ordered my usual morning coffee drink, not my usual smoothie drink.”

“Hmm?”, that is all Holly could say as she is bobbing her head, trying to focus on pouring herself a large mug of freshly brewed coffee for Ethan. She drink the entire thing in one gulp. Holly shake her head and blinks. She passed the mug of coffee to Ethan. Ethan is given two glazed doughnuts, two chocolate filled croissants, and two chocolate donuts by the droid. The symbiote, Serpent appears as a small dark blue tentacle slithered out of Ethan's sleeves and take each of the respective pastries. Ethan takes a sip of his mug of coffee. He sigh, wishing he can sleep late like he used to be, but can’t. Stella Junior ponders to see that the customers got their order before the coffee shop begins. Just why? Is this a VIP thing?

[An hour and thirty minutes later]

Stella Junior’s order of bacon, sausage, and egg wrap and a sookcha latte arrived and served at Stella Junior’s table.

“Thanks you so much for your patience,” said Holly, now rejuvenated thanks to the coffee. “I am so sorry that the order arrived late. Even though you shouldn’t be here, but I don’t want to kick you out. That would be so rude of me.”

Stella Junior is picking up her ssuk latte and tastes the earthy, grassy, and slightly bitterness of the drink. This drink is similar to matcha and the odour reminds her of the field of daisies in Linphea. “It is fine. I just want to reward myself for being here and able to finally get to enjoy the taste of this drink I have heard so much about. I actually feel that this is worth it.”

Holly smiles. “Oh, I am so glad you are feeling well.”, Stella Junior continues drinking her ssuk latte. Maybe Townsville is not so bad after all.

Candy, Sienna, and Sunny belong to @cooltmoney95

Stella Junior, Enya, Sapphire Diamond, Amaya and Tori belong to @gloriousdreamunknown

Ethan belongs to @ej-cappy-universe

Holly belongs to @froppy-butterflyfan2000 (me)

[toonatic92]

[Image description: A watercolour picture of three of my characters, Roger and Jess, who are sleeping and their imaginary sister Screwball watching over them. Roger (left) is a brown anthro rabbit with long, orange-tipped brown hair in a ponytail. He is wearing a colourful hoodie decorated with a jackalope shoulder patch and a desert with cacti landscape, a brown t-shirt with a rabbit skeleton on it, a Playboy bunny earring, and ripped blue jeans with a charm of Mirko from MHA hanging from the pocket. Jess (right) is a human girl with long, wavy red hair. She is wearing a Miffy hair clip, a yellow varsity sweater with her name on it, a red pleated skirt and yellow knee-high socks. Screwball (top) is a white toon rabbit with short, red hair, a swirl in one eye and a lop ear. She is wearing a blue and yellow polka dot bow, yellow gloves and a puffy red dress with different patterned patches sewn on it. They are in a colourful cloud world, asleep on a cloud table which has their real homework and textbooks scattered on it. Screwball's friends, various anthro foodstuffs and trees with pie-eyes, are partying behind them.]

In the world of my detective story Truth Seekers, there are many supernatural creatures with individual approaches to integrating with humans. Some hide amongst humans and some isolate themselves in their communities, but this can cause problems for human/supernatural hybrids like the two in the picture.

Roger (left) and Jess (right) are twins with a half-jackalope father and a human mother. Their father is determined to be fully human, to the point of forcing his kids to hide their non-human features and moving them to the UK to get away from other jackalopes. The pressure of keeping this secret and having to adjust to a new school and curriculum is pushing the twins to their breaking point.

Roger hides it very well behind his easy-going slacker persona and he has made friends very quickly, but having to constantly hold human form is taxing on his body and mind. Even at home, his jackalope features mean that he’s the scapegoat child, having to put up with his father’s blatant disdain for him. To spite his father, he’s taken to wearing rabbit-themed clothing and pestering him with questions about jackalope culture.

In contrast, Jess is hiding it a lot less well. Leaning on her alpha-bitch cheerleader persona was bad enough in America, but in Britain it just looks ridiculous and it guarantees that she won’t make any friends in her new school. In fact, she’s already made at least one enemy, a truant student named Ariel who has to put up with Jess harassing her any time she actually shows up for school. At home, Jess is a very different person. As the golden child, she has to be perfect and meek around her father, so that she doesn’t lose his favour.

All that Roger and Jess have is each other. Together, they have retreated into a private fantasy land. It started out as a story they wrote together based on the cartoons they loved as kids, but then they started dreaming of their cartoon land every single night. They knew that was strange, but they didn’t want give up their safe place, so they continued to dream. They soon decided that they should liven up the place by making a wacky toon rabbit to be their friend. They named her Screwball and made her their little sister. Her endearingly wacky antics made their lives a lot brighter, but there are signs that she’s a little too clingy to her big bro and sis. If it were up to her, they’d stay with her forever…

(Yes, this is all one big Roger Rabbit reference. These characters started out as fan-kids for Roger and Jessica that I made as a teenager and I'm repurposing them.)

Medium: Watercolour pens on paper.

Links to other versions: DeviantART Instagram

[leuke-rants]

Ok so,am I the only one who hates how the Motokids look like? Let me explain what I mean.

Look at how Filo looks like:

She is a white Filolial and in human form she has blonde hair,blue eyes and white wings.Her colour scheme is basic but it works,the warm yellow of her hair creates a contrast with her cool blue eyes and it helps you focus on her facial features more. In addition,her white wings make her hair pop out more and her white- blueish dress compliments her eyes and wings. All and all,this is a pretty basic but cute and effective design

Now look at the Motokids,starting with Sakura:

Sakura is a pink Filolial and in human form she has pink hair,pink eyes and pink wings. Why,just why? Although her wings are a lighter sade of pink they still kind of blend in with her hair and her eyes are literally the same colour as her hair. It creates this ugly pink blob and you can't easily focus on her face. Instead,your eyes immediately go to her dress since it's more noticeable. The cool green creates a good contrast with the warm pink colour,it also helps that it has white on it

Now let's look at Yuki and Kou.

Both of them have the same problem as Sakura. They are really top heavy with a specific colour,Yuki with white and Kou with yellow,and it creates an indistinguishable blob.

I know that Sakura is a pink Filolial,Yuki is a white one and Kou a yellow one and they want to show it in their human form,but Filo is also a white Filolial just like Yuki.Why does she get different colours for her hair and eyes while Yuki is stuck with white all over her?

This is how Filo should have looked like instead:

See how bad it looks? You can't focus on her face because she is really white heavy on top with the only colour being on her clothes.

I took it upon myself to try and implement the same colouring method to they used for Filo to the Motokids and this is what I came up with:

I gave Sakura green eyes to make her face pop out more and changed the pink shade of her wings. It's not perfect but you can at least tell her hair apart from her wings you can focus on her face better.

When I saw this manga cover where Yuki has blue eyes I immediately fell in love with her design . It's a minor change but a noticeable one,so I decided to give her blue eyes. I decided on a paler,more pastel shade,since her name means "snow" in Japanese and snow is associated with winter, a season that's often depicted with whites and pale blues. I also coloured the star on her bow because I like the way it looks in the cover. In addition,I gave her blue gradient on her hair to prevent it from blending in with her wings

Now Kou is not as bad as the girls,his hair is short and doesn't blend in with his wings but he is still really yellow heavy on top. I changed his eyes to blue, brighter and darker than Yuki's to compliment his clothes and changed his hair.The orange gradient is there to make his face pop out more and make it distinguished form his wings.

In conclusion,I don't understand why Filo gets to be different from the other Filolials when it comes to colour scheme. I know that the Motokids are from the spin-off series but they deserve a better than that.

[random-iz-stuff]

Irken beauty standards:

Height. Obviously.

Body shape. Being thin and slim is considered attractive. This is best seen with Skoodge, who is considered ugly in part due to his body shape, along with a slew of other factors. However, unlike height, this doesn’t have any actual societal effects besides surface level beauty, as people like Sizz-Lorr still have high ranking jobs like Frylord despite not being thin.

Posture. Stand up straight. It makes you seem taller and slouching is viewed as unattractive unless you’re already extremely tall, like the Tallest are.

Cleanliness. Although the extreme germaphobia and hatred of messes that Zim shows is unique to him (and Tak), irkens still view cleanliness as synonymous with attractiveness to a certain degree.

Antenna. Short antenna are viewed as unattractive, but so are antenna that are too long, so you want antenna that are right in the middle. Not too short and not too long. Luckily, antenna can be strategically cut to increase/decrease their length.

Symmetry. A more symmetrical face is considered very attractive. It’s like how we humans are attracted to symmetry, but taken up to eleven in terms of just how important it is. Just for example of how valued symmetry is when it comes to irken beauty, Tak’s beauty mark is considered ugly by irken standards simply because it throws off the symmetry of her face.

Many irkens will use makeup to either hide things that make their faces unsymmetrical or add identical things that mirror the imperfections to make it symmetrical. (For example, Tak using makeup to either hide her beauty mark or add a second beauty mark that perfectly mirrors her real one on the other side of her face.)

Eye colour. Irkens can naturally have just about any eye colour besides black, white and grey. And although Red is the most common eye colour, followed closely by purple, eye colours besides that aren’t uncommon.

The rarity of irken eye colours goes like this (in descending order from most to least common):

Red

Purple

Orange, Yellow, Green and every other colour that isn’t Red, Purple or Blue.

Blue

What eye colours are considered more attractive than others depends heavily on other popular irkens with said eye colour. For example, currently, red and purple is considered in style because of the current Tallest, but there are other factors that can play into all this as well, like popular Announcers with certain eye colours for example. Different irkens can have different colour preferences as well.

Blue eyes are the only eye colours that are always considered attractive, due to them being the only eye colour that’s actually rare, being a recessive trait that only appears if the irken gets extremely lucky when being made in the smeetery, as their genes are randomized. Blue is considered a rare, desirable and almost exotic eye colour, and is always considered very attractive as a result of that.

Brighter coloured eyes are considered more attractive than duller eyes.

Surprisingly enough, Zim is considered to be pretty damn attractive by irken standards, with a slim build and symmetrical face, along with antenna that are just the right length and bright red eyes. He also has excellent posture and is probably one of the cleanest irkens you’ll ever meet due to his hatred of dirt, grime and germs. The only thing he doesn’t have is height, being slightly shorter than average. This can also be said about Tenn, with them being Zim’s twin sibling.

On the other side of things, Skoodge is considered ugly by irken standards because he’s short and chubby, along with having antenna that are too short and stubby, an unsymmetrical face and dull red eyes. The fact that he’s often seen in dirty clothes doesn’t help.

Tak is slightly taller than average and has a slim body shape, along with bright purple eyes and excellent posture and cleanliness, which should make her extremely attractive among irkens, but her unsymmetrical beauty mark and the holographic system that she installed into the side of her head, which also isn’t symmetrical, is considered very unattractive at the same time, so that isn’t really the case.

Tallest Red and Purple are considered to be the most attractive and beautiful irkens in the entire empire because of their extreme heights, slim builds and bright eyes, along with the fact that they rule the entire irken race and insulting them can very easily get you killed.

[pinknatural]

After a long while, Jack straightens back up, wiping away his tears.

“Sorry about your shirt,” he says again. Dean waves his hand in dismissal. What’s some snot and tears? 

“It’s fine,” he says again. “I mean it, kid.”

Jack looks like he might begin to cry all over again, but he sniffs and makes a valiant effort not to. They’re in a motel room--Dean couldn’t bear the Bunker, and Sam and Eileen’s honeymoon phase. He’s happy for them, of course he is, but seeing them so in love is kind of painful, and Dean could tell Sam was trying not to be overt about it to spare Dean’s feelings, and Dean just felt that, well--he might as well remove himself from the situation, at least for a little bit. 

(Plus, now he has some peace and quiet--the motel room is littered with books and research, scrolls and files and other pieces of lore--all on the afterlife, of course. All on how to get there.)

“Okay,” Jack says. “Okay.” He raises a glowing hand to his own forehead, but he pauses when his fingers are about an inch away. He swallows. 

“Come on, kid, what are you waiting for?” Dean asks. 

“I could bring her back,” Jack whispers. “I should bring her back.” 

He lowers his hand, turns a stricken gaze to Dean. 

“Who?” Dean asks. He thinks, Kelly. He thinks, Maggie. He thinks, absurdly, Charlie. 

“Emma,” Jack says. 

Dean feels as if he’s been hit over the head. 

“What?” he says. Has he turned into a fish and been left out on the docks? Where did all the air go?

“You’ve been thinking about her,” Jack says, like a confession. “Praying.” He has, if only because he’s been wallowing in what he can’t have, the husband, the daughter. He has, if only because he’s been wondering if the way to the Empty could be through Purgatory. Would he have time to sweep the place first? Would he be able to find her, unlike the last two times he was there?

“Yeah,” Dean tries to say, but no sound comes out. He tries again. “Yeah. You could really…?”

“I can do anything,” Jack says, with a sad, bitter smile, and Dean reaches for him. Jack falls into the embrace, wrapping his arms around Dean’s back, clinging to his shirt. Dean runs a hand up his back, cups the back of his neck. 

“You don’t have to,” Dean says. It’s one of the hardest things he’s ever said. “God, kid, I’d like nothing more, but you don’t have to. You gotta do what’s best for you, you hear me?”

“I know,” Jack says. He sniffles. Dean thinks he might be crying again. “And I love Claire so much but I just want my sister. Dad, I want to bring her back.”

Dean squeezes his son. He closes his eyes. 

“Then bring her back,” he whispers, and one of Jack’s hands leaves Dean’s back. Golden light shines, starting behind Dean and filling up the room, making it brighter and brighter and Jack gets smaller and smaller and Dean just holds on, tighter and tighter. 

The light fades. 

A little boy has his face buried in Dean’s gut, arms wrapped tight around Dean. They don’t even go all the way around, anymore. Dean runs a hand through Jack’s hair, stunned even though Jack told him this was what he wanted, even though they’d talked and talked about it before Jack decided to go through with it. 

“What?” a tiny voice says, and Dean turns around. 

Emma is standing there, only she’s not--she’s not exactly the Emma Dean remembers. Instead of being sixteen, she’s something like eight years old, eyes wide and hair tangled with leaves. She’s splattered with blood, and wearing the same clothes she’d died in--the same clothes Dean buried her in. They’re too big for her, and she looks like she’s on the verge of tears. 

“What happened?” she asks, looking around the motel room wildly. “Where am I?”

“Emma,” Dean says, untangling himself from the three year old on the bed and kneeling, reaching out gently. He stays near the bed, afraid of spooking her. “You were rescued from Purgatory. You’re safe.” He turns to Jack. “Why is she little?”

“She’s human,” Jack says, shrugging. He’s chewing on the end of his sleeve, eyes wide. His clothes, at least, are three-year-old sized. Dean wonders where he’s supposed to get Emma some clothes, but there’s a pink suitcase sitting beside Dean’s duffel. The sight of it is too much, and he looks back at his daughter. 

“Safe?” Emma repeats, looking down at her hands. She flexes her tiny fingers. 

“Eight years have passed,” Dean says, still holding out his hands--he’s not sure if he’s trying to soothe her or reach for her. “You’re safe, you don’t have to kill anyone, I won’t hurt you.”

Emma looks around again. She sees her suitcase and stares at it, then swings her gaze back around. “Who’s that?” She points at Jack. 

“That’s Jack, that’s my son,” Dean says. “Your brother. He brought you back.”

“How?”

“He was powered up--he was God--but now he’s just a kid,” Dean says. “He, um, wanted to bring you back.”

“Dada was prayin’ for you,” Jack says, voice muffled around the sleeve he’s still chewing. Dean reaches out and gently removes it from his mouth. “He wanted you to come back. I wanted to meet you.”

“Oh,” Emma says. She looks down at her pants. “I’m all dirty.”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “The bathroom’s over there if you want to--shower. I can help you if you want.”

Emma shakes her head and reaches for her suitcase. She goes into the bathroom, turning around and looking back at Dean and Jack, eyes wide, until she shuts the door behind her. Dean collapses back onto his feet, running his hands over his face, laughing incredulously. 

“I did good?” Jack asks, sliding off the bed and crawling onto Dean’s lap. “I did good?”

“Yeah, buddy,” Dean says, voice cracking. He hears the shower turn on, the water begin to run. He curls up tight over Jack. “You did great.”

--

The first thing Cas is aware of is big blue eyes. The rest of the features on that face sharpen into a nose and mouth, grace smearing around the small face, and although it seems impossible, it can only be--

“Jack?”

“Daddy!” Jack cries, and he throws himself onto Cas. Cas catches him easily, holds his tiny body within his arms. Oh, he’s so small. His golden wings stretch as big as they go, which is not very big, to wrap themselves around Cas, and reflexively he wraps his own around Jack as well, holding him tight, rocking slightly back and forth.

Then he remembers--everything, and that he’s supposed to be dead, and he looks up.

Green eyes. Freckles, slightly crooked nose, beloved mouth, beloved jawline.

“Cas,” Dean croaks, and he falls to his knees. Cas is on the floor, legs crossed and Jack curled up on his lap. Cas doesn’t want to let go but Jack wiggles away, and Cas is afraid to reach out but helpless to do anything else.

Dean crawls toward him, falls against him. He presses his face into Cas’ neck and breathes, in and out, and Cas thinks he might be crying. But Cas is breathing Dean in, and he smells like the Impala (home) and guns (safety) and lemon (Dean) and Cas’ eyes aren’t very dry, either. 

“You dumb son of a bitch,” Dean says, voice tucked safe into the place between Cas’ neck and shoulder. “You goddamned idiot. You stupid fucker. You dumbass, you, you.”

“Dean,” Cas says, and Dean shudders out a shaky breath, breathes heavily against him. Dean is alive in Cas’ arms, and he couldn’t be happier.

He tilts his gaze up, looking for Jack, and he finds instead a little girl with brown-blonde hair. She’s wearing a pink t-shirt and denim shorts and one of Dean’s flannels. She’s practically swimming in it, but her sleeves are rolled up and her eyes are the same apple-green as Dean’s, and Cas holds Dean tighter. 

“Emma?” he asks. She nods and looks away uncomfortably. 

“Emmie, Emmie, my daddy’s back,” Jack says, bouncing over to her and dancing around, wings flapping madly. 

“Yeah,” Emma says. 

Dean clears his throat and finally leans back from Cas. He reaches out an arm and Emma comes over to him, sitting on the floor beside him and tucking herself against his side. Dean wipes away tears with his other hand as Jack barrels back around, throwing himself into Cas’ lap. Cas holds him and looks around. 

They’re in a motel room, two queen beds, identical to the countless ones Sam and Dean have stayed in over the years. But there’s a pink suitcase next to the TV and a blue duffel with sharks on it beside it. On one of the beds there’s a pair of stuffed rabbits, one pink and one yellow. There are various books and scrolls piled on the little table beside the couch and also piled onto the couch itself. Spell ingredients are on the floor, spread out over a placemat. 

“Daddy,” Emma says, and Cas looks at her, tugging on Dean’s overshirt. His heart melts. Dean deserves nothing less, of course, but he knows what toll gaining then losing a daughter has had on Dean. He’s so glad that Dean can have her back, that she can have Dean, too, that she can have another chance. She deserves it, and already Cas looks at her and sees her hair in a careful braid and her Wonder Woman socks and he knows he would die for her. “If me and Jack are siblings and you’re Jack’s dad and that’s Jack’s dad, too, then. Um.”

She looks at Cas nervously. Dean squeezes her shoulders. 

“Me and Cas have to talk about all that,” Dean says. Cas is astounded that it’s not an instant denial. 

“We do?” he asks, and Dean meets his gaze head on.

“Yeah,” he says. “We got a lotta stuff to talk about, you and me. Kids, why don’t you watch some TV and Cas and I’ll go outside.”

Jack scrambles off of Cas’ lap and turns around, presses a wet kiss to Cas’ cheek, then he climbs onto the bed with the stuffed animals. He grabs onto the yellow bunny and Emma crawls beside him, putting the pink bunny on her lap and pointing the remote at the TV. Cas stands and offers his hand to Dean, who takes it, lets Cas pull him up.

Dean goes outside and Cas follows, of course he does. They don’t let go of each other’s hands. 

“Why are we in a motel?” Cas asks. Dean shrugs. 

“Needed some space,” he says. “Then I wasn’t sure how big of a house to get.”

“A house?”

“Yeah,” Dean says. He rubs at the back of his neck with his free hand. “Can’t raise kids in a bunker, come on man.”

“What about Sam?”

“He’s fine,” Dean says. “On a hunt with Eileen.”

“Oh,” Cas says, slightly confused. 

“Yeah, I dunno,” Dean says. “Salt-and-burn in Orlando, I think. So, um, listen, man…”

“Thank you for getting me out of the Empty,” Cas blurts, afraid Dean is about to reject him. He has always known Dean would do so, but he thinks to hear it would be--upsetting.

“Of course,” Dean says. “You’re, um. I couldn’t just leave you there, you’re--”

“Family?” Cas suggests.

“Yeah,” Dean says. He takes a step forward. “Though, you know, I’ve been thinkin’ about what we are to each other.”

“You have?” Cas takes a step back when Dean takes another step forward. 

“Yeah,” Dean breathes. “Living together, raising a kid together, dying for each other. Never wanting to be apart.”

“Oh?” Cas says, and his back hits the wall. Dean stands over him, caging him in with only one hand--the other still wrapped around Cas’ palm, their fingers intertwined. 

“You know what that sounds like?” Dean asks, breath ghosting along Cas’ jaw, and Cas can’t really think. Why is Dean standing so close to him?

“Family?” Cas croaks, brain stuck on the word. Family, they’re family.

“I was thinking it sounded like husbands, Cas,” Dean says, and then Cas doesn’t have to worry about why Dean is standing so close anymore, because Dean kisses him, and Cas’ brain ceases functioning--but it’s okay, because if Dean says they’re husbands, who is Cas to argue?

--

Sam pulls up to the motel after dropping Eileen off at the Bunker. She was tired from driving all night and Sam doesn’t blame her, but he can’t believe he’s missed everything while he went to one measly salt-and-burn.

He parks the car and gets out, crossing the parking lot. He knocks on the door and Claire opens it. She looks the same as always, except she has a purple stuffed bunny peeking out of her jacket pocket. Sam is smart enough not to comment on this. 

She steps aside and lets him in, and Emma squeaks and practically climbs up Dean when she sees him. It’s a work in progress, with her, and Sam feels terrible but he’s not sure what he can do besides give her time, so he looks away and instead turns to Cas, who smiles when he sees him. 

“Sam!” he says, and he stands up from the couch, crosses the room and hugs him. 

“It’s good to see you,” Sam says, clapping Cas on the back.

“Sam!” Jack says, and he barrels towards Sam’s legs with the determination of a battering ram, and Sam intercepts him before he can make contact, picking him up and swinging him over his shoulder. Jack laughs and laughs, and Kaia waves at Sam from her spot curled up on the couch. 

“This motel room is very full,” Sam says, looking around, and Dean grins at him. 

“That’s why we’re shopping, Sammy,” he says, and he points at his laptop. 

“Find anything good?” Sam asks, crossing the room to sit on the couch so he can see the computer. He deposits Jack into Cas’ arms, and Dean comes to sit on his other side. Emma stays on the bed, hiding behind Claire, who’s obviously taking guard-duty pretty seriously since she’s half-glaring at Sam.

Sam looks away and turns his gaze toward the computer. 

“We weren’t finding any good listings so we’re looking for some land, now,” Dean says. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay in the Bunker? We’ve got a lotta room,” Sam says. 

“Nah,” Dean says. He slings his arm around Cas, who’s perched on the arm of the couch. “We need a house.”

“Windows,” Cas says solemnly, tangling his and Dean’s fingers, and Sam notes the movement with a pleased smile. 

“But if we build a house we can add-in wards and stuff, right into the foundations,” Dean says. “We can make sure it’s safe, and good.”

“Will you build it?” Sam asks, even though he knows the answer. 

“Damn straight,” Dean says. The silver band on his ring finger flashes as he shuts the laptop. Jack crawls into Kaia’s lap, and she wraps her arms around him. 

“I think it’s a good idea,” she says. 

“Yeah,” Sam says. He meets his brother’s eyes. “Me too.”

(ao3)

[theyungihven]

My Kittten

↳pairing : master mingi × cat hybrid fem! reader

cw: dollification, dom mingi × sub reader, established relationship, fingering, corruption kink, claiming etc

word count: 1k

rating: explicit!

genre: smut

↬synopsis : A calm Friday evening. 3:33AM. Mingi's kitten protesting to fall asleep shamelessly whispers nasty words in his ears which results in a rather nasty morning for the both of them.

masterlist

⨠A surprise post cuz Mingi's moan in Deja vu made me end up in a mess😭

The clock hands have slipped past the digit 3, anticipating golden streaks of blunt light to enlighten the room as the sky slowly grows brighter. Two figures lie upon each other, basking in each other's warmth. They stare at the screen in front of them, yet none of them in the right mind to concentrate.

"We should sleep, y/ n." The boy suggests, running his fingers through his lover's soft hair, caressing her feline ears.

"I'm not tired and I slept in the evening." His lover whines, snuggling closer into his neck as she snuggles in his lap, wriggle her black tail.

"Y/n." He calls out in a stern tone, his low voice echoing between the bedroom walls. She looks up at him, her sparkly purple eyes lingering in his chestnut ones.

"Only if you promised to do me right. From the back." A tinge of mischief glints in her eyes as she smirks whispering in his ear, fingers crawling up his hoodie to caress her master's face.

A whisper.

A blunt confession, whispered in his ear.

That's all it takes to tighten his grip across the waist of his kitten and a crimson tint to spread across his prominent cheekbones.

Her wet lips caress his earlobe, travelling down towards his jaw and eventually sucking love bites into the tender flesh of the boy's neck.

His breath hitches as his kitten's warm fingers slip under his yellow hoodie and he swallows nervously when they touch his sensitive buds.

"Mr. Song, is this all it takes to rile you up?"

Another deep whisper, is all it takes for his dick to twitch.

"Answer your kitten, Mr. Song.~" Her whispers are surely making him lose his patience as he struggles to move around under her hold.

"You know me very well, kitten."

The universe has switched its favorites in a moment.

He takes his chance to yank his kitten off his lap, fingers working on affixing a firm grip in her black lock successfully trapping her under himself on the bed as his hot breath flutters against her wet lips.

"Strip and get on your fours, kitten." He states out of the blue, lips dangerously close to his kitten's. Mingi watches her struggling to stand abroad on her heels as she begins to strip off herself down. "Want me to help?" He suggests with a sheepish smirk plastered on his lips as he watches his poor kitten tremble slipping off the clothing.

And that poor little cat nods unaware of the consequences then lays on the bed beside her master, who now stands in front of her overshadowing her tiny figure.

She whimpers as her master drags the lower garments off her skin in a teasingly-slow speed, his fingers grazing over every inch of his kitten's hip. She whines as her growing urge to be filled up and to be touched by her master, slowly eats her up.

"Relax, kitten. I'm not going anywhere." His whispers send shivers down her spine as she clenches her teeth against her lower lip, controlling the loud whines from spewing out but they unfortunately do.

"Mingi- please~" She cries out, from lack of contact as her master's lips plant kisses on her waist, slowly travelling lower towards her core.

Mingi's lips tear away from her skin only to be mere inches away from hers, as he presses his index fingers against his kittens lips muttering a little 'shhh'.

"It's still Master for you, kitten. Don't let me remind you of your place."

Poor little kitten gets flipped on her fours, as their master's eyes hungrily stare at her bare bottom.

His fingers graze against her sensitive, dripping core and his kitten couldn't help but speak incoherent sentences, overwhelmed by her master's touch as her tail wriggles around in dismay.

"You're so wet for me darling, so pretty." Her master's long digits spread her warm walls as she hisses at the stretch. Her legs tremble when he thrusts them in and out of her clenching core while his other hand plays around with her tail, exciting the poor little feline.

"God- y/ n—You're drenching!" He spreads her asscheeks apart kneading them with his huge hands while leaning in to lick her sensitive core. And that's all it takes for his little kitten to fall flat on her stomach. What a weakling! "Look at you, being a mess, when I haven't even started." He hisses, pulling her hips back and holding them tight.

"I'm sorry, master. It's too much-" The kitten's words are cut off when her master pushes his index and middle fingers back in her throbbing heat and the poor kitten doesn't hide her pretty little whines and moans.

"Master- too-too much-" His kitten barely moans out those words when Mingi slides in his third finger, the slide easy due to the amount of wetness dripping down her needy core. A few thrusts with his four fingers in, is all it takes for his pretty little kitten to come all over her master's fingers as she then lays limp on the mattress, muttering incoherent words and whining due to the over stimulation.

Her master then lays beside her after cleaning up the little feline. He pulls her close to himself as she snuggles into his chest, breathing in her master sweet perfume as it calms her down into a peaceful state of mind.

"Is this all it takes to make you come, my kitten? SO cute. Just for me."

[shprka]

LET'S ANALYSE MAX'S S4 OUTFITS FROM THE LEAKS

Seeing Max's outfits in the leaks got me thinking. It reminds me so much of Billy.

Sorry if someone else pointed it out before

But at this point I think we all know that at least part of her arc this season is going to be about her grief over Billy's death. And her look is a great way of showing that!!

EXAMPLE 1:

This is my fave look cos it shows so much of Billy here. Most important thing? The colour BLUE. Blue is prominent in the show bc most of the cast wear jeans and denim at some point but no one as much as Billy Mr. Double and Triple Denim even. Boy is not afraid of blue on blue. I would even go as far as to say - the boy is ASSOCIATED with blue. Mr. Baby blue eyes, California Surfer Boy, Lifeguard, water, ocean, Blue Camaro - that's how much blue. Max wearing THREE different blue pieces of clothing is NOT subtle. Also I saw some people speculating if the denim jacket/shirt is Billy's and it's not a shirt we see Billy wear but I love that idea, like yes the girl raided Billy's closet and wears his shirts bc the mofo has some good tastes. And she misses him. I'm sad thinking about it but I love it 🥺

Also THE HEADPHONES. It's the first time we see Max interested in music. Two people in the show are music lovers at this point - Jonathan (with his Should i stay or should i go, iconic) and Billy with his metal, also iconic and also not subtle. Hope that means Max saved Billy's tapes and she listens to them because they remind her of him (also she learns to love them, i need this like i need air, Max being a bit edgy)

Also in this photo, her backpack and her shoes are BURGUNDY. Which I thought at first doesn't mean anything (and it probably doesn't and I'm reaching but who cares 🤡). But then I was like WAIT, wait, wait, BURGUNDY IS ALSO A COLOUR THAT BILLY WEARS

Here's the iconic titty out shirt:

Hmmm. Might mean nothing, might mean the fashion people are being extremely thoughtful. I like to think they are bc the fashion on the show is immaculate

ALSO I just remembered burgundy is a colour that Max and Billy share in s2. Burgundy siblings

EXAMPLE 2:

MORE BLUE. On blue (if she's wearing jeans. I think she does because I saw the full pic at some point but can't find it now. But it's the 80s, it's safe to say she 99% does). So another blue on blue moment. Also with a WHITE T-shirt underneath! Where have I see it before?

Another few of Billy's looks are literally any white shirt + denim on denim combo.

Also she has some red and yellow accents on the jacket which can also be symbolical because red/burgundy is a colour both Max and Billy share and yellow is a colour (as far as I remember) only Max exclusively wears in the show

If I had to theorise and reach even more I'd say the fact that the jacket is light blue is significant. It's a nice vivid blue, which can mean at the point she wears is she's in a good mood or good mental space, dealing with her grief better. And the fact that there's some yellow thrown (and brighter colours in general) in there could mean she's finding herself in all that blue again

EXAMPLE 3:

This is where I thought, yet again, my theory fails. BUT WHAT'S THIS?

I have my clown shoes still on, don't worry ✌

Here we see Max wearing jeans and a brown jacket - a look Billy wears in s3. Is that a coincidence? You decide 🤡

Also I wonder what coloured shirt she has under the jacket. White or burgundy or blue would prove my theory

That's it for now folks unless some new photos come in. But from what we see, it's safe to say the designers of the show are doing it on purpose. When we look at Max, we're supposed to think: BILLY. And using Billy's colours to represent that is a brilliant choice. And those colours are BLUE, a lot of blue with some combinations of BURGUNDY, WHITE, BROWN and possibly RED (very "american" colours we shall say 😉)

And the change in Max's wardrobe this season is major. For the past 2 season the designers established Max's colours and it being a reflection of her personality - GREEN, YELLOW, RED/BURGUNDY then more colourful clothes in season 3. You can literally see the colour being stripped away from her life. She's in a full depression mode. She misses Billy 😭😭

So whether or not Billy returns as a flashback or a actually returns (I'm still hoping though), I can die happy knowing at least one person in the world cared and misses Billy Hargrove with her whole heart.

Now excuse me while I go cry in the corner for 13 minutes 😭

[burnedbyshoto]

quirk mastery

— In which Mirio gets his quirk back and he’s desperate to show you just how well he’s remastered permeation.

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pairing: togata mirio x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, pwp-ish, semi-public sex, clothed sex, anal, size difference, finger sucking, fingering

word count: 4,021

a/n: day three of kinktober and here we be!!! this was based on the concept of mirio being the perfect candidate for have clothed penetrative sex LMAOOO. make sure to comment (even if its a simple emoji) on any fics you like, authors super appreciate it.

main kink: anal

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To be quite honest, you never thought Mirio was going to get his quirk back.

You remember when it happened in high school.

The cold fall morning as you had woken up earlier than usual for a school day, deciding that maybe you should get a cup of tea given that it had been cold and something just felt off.

Nearly three years ago, when you had arrived through the doors of UA as a hero student, you had taken your seat in class 1-B, and almost immediately, your class became your family. Everyone was so talented, lively, and brimming with their own excitement of being here, but one person always just seemed to be brighter than the rest.

His smile captivated the first moment he looked at you, his blue eyes so precise and accurate you knew immediately he was someone to trust. 

His name was Togata Mirio, and true to his sunshine hair, his own sunshine personality allowed the entire class to address him by his first name within hours of meeting him. It was no surprise that you felt your heart skip a beat when he placed a strong arm around your shoulder later in the year because you had fallen for your classmate.

As a third-year, you still harbored deep feelings for your classmate and now best friend. But you knew better than to enact on them at the moment. You were busy with your hero work, and his latest work-study with the former All Might’s sidekick kept him busy nearly every day.

He would still be there once you graduated, you always liked to remind yourself. But as energetic as Mirio was, he definitely was not an early riser. So it shocked you that as you reached the dorm's kitchen area, he was standing there quiet and fully dressed in his school uniform. His eyes were concentrated on his phone, and his face was serious, for a moment, the off feeling you had seemed to make sense as you stared at his solemn face.

“Mirio?” you had called out, suddenly feeling a bit underdressed in your pajamas, and you held onto your elbow as you stared at your flirt of a classmate. “You okay? We still have an hour and a half before classes start.”

It seemed that he had not even heard you enter the room based on how he startled just the bit before turning his gaze towards you. 

Blue eyes murky with regret and guilt. You hated that they weren't clear, and you always hoped they would be cleared soon.

“I’ve got my work-study today,” Mirio answers with a soft smile that doesn’t clear his eyes. “Something came up, so I'll be gone for the morning. We’ll probably be back before classes end today.”

You nod your head, already knowing who belonged within that we.

“Are you doing okay? You’ve been looking a bit… uh, worse for wear, and I don’t want you getting hurt because you’re distracted by other things,” you admit, venturing further into the kitchen so that you leaned against the opposite side of the counter of where Mirio stood. 

The smile on his face grows just a bit, a small spark dazzling in his clear blue eyes before he shakes his head good-naturally.

“You admitting you care about me?”

“Have I ever denied it?”

Mirio laughs softly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck before a heavy sigh passes his lips, “I guess not.”

You keep the frown off your face at those words, his inability to flirt back slightly concerning, but you stop before you can frown. By the front door of the dorms is none other than Tamaki and Nejire from class 1-A, two other close friends of yours, and equally involved in this case of theirs that they all refuse to tell you about. Guess that’s what happens when you join Edgeshot’s agency.

Mirio follows your gaze and motions to your friends that he’ll be joining them in just a moment before he turns back to you.

“Well, looks like it’s time,” Mirio speaks with finality, his shoulders as stiff as his smile, and your heart aches just the slightest bit.

“Be careful, Mirio,” you say firmly, your eyes locked on his that have become emotionless. That pit in your stomach is unignorable as you speak up on your concerns. “I know you’re strong, but please be careful.”

Mirio stills for a moment before he nods, and he walks around the counter. His arms stretching out, pulling you into a tight hug that you more than willingly return. It seems like the two of you stand there hugging each other for centuries before Mirio makes a soft noise in an unwilling attempt to tell you to let go.

“I know, I know,” you sigh, pulling away, your eyes meeting his for the millionth time. “You’ve To-gata go now.”

And for the first time in weeks, his blue eyes clear up, and a proper genuine laugh breaks through his lips as he shakes his head, already walking away. 

“You’re pretty amazing, y/n-chan!” he shouts as he opens the front door, and you can hear Nejire calling her hellos to you. “I’ll be back before you can even blink!”

“You better!” you call out, waving at your three friends who bunch up and walk off.

As you watch their retreating backs, the pit in your stomach remains as you whisper softly: please.

It’s within twenty-four hours that you find out the case they were working, and you feel sick when Mirio doesn’t return, confirming to you that he was the one to have lost his quirk that day. When Mirio returns two days later, it’s not with good news as he admits to you that he’ll be leaving UA now that his quirk is gone.

His eyes are clear again, not at all like he was two days ago as the two of you seem to only be talking to one another within the crowd of both class 3-A and 3-B. It’s later once everyone is gone that he admits that a young girl who was responsible for his quirks erasure could potentially bring it back, but it’s unknown at the moment.

You remember holding his cheeks and promised him that even if it doesn’t come back, he would always be a hero who, in the end, did what he set out to do, saving a million people. It was almost shocking to you as you watched for the first time since his teacher died in front of him, Mirio crying yet again, his face buried into the crook of your neck.

But that was five years ago.

Five long years of being a Pro Hero in a society that no longer looked the same.

Three years of finally being able to call Mirio your boyfriend.

One year of organizing the current hero gala, the two of you are attending right now.

One month of Mirio finally regaining his quirk.

In a heavily watched attempt, Eri-chan, who had been able to figure out a way to train her quirk. It was all due to the help of a young yet brilliant support engineer, Hatsumi Mei, without having to interact with real soul-having things. It took almost ten hours, but the young girl was both resilient and determined as you watched as she sat with her fingers pressed to Mirio’s cheeks and a warm yellow glow surrounded her. 

The shriek that ripped through you when Mirio suddenly fell through the floor, your initial fear of Eri completely rewinding him from existence flaring in your chest, and undoubtedly hers as she gasped in horror. You watched his clothes dropping from where he once sat, and then you could hear the familiar, distant sound of Mirio being rejected by matter, and you bolted at Eri. It was a frantic team effort response to make sure Eri would not see him in his naked glory when he resurfaced, and that memory still sent you in a round of uproarious laughter.

But a Heroes Gala was something that was occurring recently, and it wasn’t quite what it had once been before. Pro Heroes were not recognized within these events; instead, the common man was, and more importantly, helping those deemed as outcasts within society. With the reign of AFO gone, and the destruction of what the heroism did to society, it had been a weird shift in energy, but a needed one.

Pro Heroes Deku and Ground Zero being the trailblazers on that front, pushing to look at the reasons the world deemed villains as so, and doing their best to fix it at the source. 

It definitely wasn’t perfect, far from it actually, but these galas helped to keep energies high on many different fronts.

Speaking of high energy, if your face was able to emit heat energy similar to that of a sun, right now, you would be a supernova.

Located in some hallway in the back of the event, you sat on a marble table. Your legs somehow wrapped around Mirio’s waist, arms thrown around his neck, pressing his gliding lips even closer to you as he enthusiastically, carefully, and completely dominated your lips. To the rest of the world, it just seemed like the two of you were simply indulging into your horny twenty-three-year-old needs. There was nothing conspicuous about what you both were doing, not if your clothed states had anything to say about it.

But that was just the thing.

Like a wolf in sheep's clothing, the large, voluminous skirt of your evening gown easily covered Mirio’s powerful, thrusting hips, blanketing his ulterior motives with fabric from the rare eye that managed to come and look at the both of you.

Maybe if they had x-ray vision, they would know the truth; they could see it too.

For not even five minutes ago, you had teasingly whispered just how hot Mirio looked in his get-up. Your teeth nibbling on his earlobe about how excited you were that when you two would inevitably get home, his clothes would be gone in a matter of seconds. It seemed that your boyfriend wanted to jump the gun and just show you what both of you had been missing these past three years.

You could barely keep up with his quick, long strides. Your heels caught onto the length of your gown multiple times until he had brought you into this hallway and picked you up without so much of a grunt and planted your bottom on the exceptionally sturdy table. It still hadn’t hit you just what he had intended to do when his lips crashed against yours, and the world exploded into white static as he kissed you, consuming your mouth with every fiber of his being.

A gentle moan left your mouth when his tongue entered your mouth, but the prominent, hard bulge pressing between you and the many, many layers of fabric made you yelp. You pulled away from his lips, your eyes, wide, impossibly frantic.

“Togata Mirio!” you hissed in shock, your hand slapping across your mouth as you simply stared at your lover who was smiling at you brightly.

The smile and the clear blue of his eyes let nothing indicate just how fucking hard he was and how much he craved your cunt around his cock just as you had teased him about earlier. 

“What is it, sunflower?” Mirio asks, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face. Your spine stiffens up as he leans in close, his mouth pressing against yours for a small, seemingly chaste kiss before he presses the corner of his mouth to your ear. “I think I’m having some issues with my quirk control, and I think this is the perfect way to practice the uh… fine-tuning of my quirk. Right?”

“Mirio…” you warn as he softly begins to grind against you, his large hand shifting from your shoulder blades down to your lower back. The pressure of his hand provided such numbing heat to blaze through your core, and it only added to the feeling of his cock against your slowly seeping cunt.

“Dontcha want to help me practice?” Mirio asks, his teeth biting onto your earlobe, and a wanton moan reverberates from your chest at the feeling. “Help me master my quirk again?”

You’re not sure what makes you cave, what makes you say fuck it under your breathe. It could have been the heat of his breath on your ear, the way he kissed down your jaw, the clear blue of his eyes glazing over darkly with lust, and maybe it was the way you could manage to feel his cock through the miles of fabric between the two of you. It didn’t matter now anyway, it couldn’t because you turned towards his face, your lips desperately seeking his, and thankfully Mirio met you there immediately.

Hot desperate mouths clashing together, tongues meeting in the middle, and you could feel his hands shoving you towards him until there was no space between your meeting hips if you ignored the dress and his pants. 

Your hazed over mind chanted to be ready for anything, to be prepared for the feeling of his cock against your already soaked cunt, and to not be surprised. Nevertheless, when you felt the hot, heavy, and stupidly thick head of Mirio’s cock pressing between your desperately needy folds, going against all of your brain's logic of how this shouldn’t be possible with your panties still on. 

“M-Mirio!” you cried, head knocked back at the feeling of his cock pressing through your tight, clenching hole. His cock thick, veiny, and hot, even in your inner walls as he kisses you. You couldn’t focus on him, your mouth agape and lax, his lips pressing against your teeth, tongue curling on the roof of your tongue, and you wantonly moaned as he shifted outwards and slammed right back into you.

For the past three minutes, the two of you had begun this desperate, needy, over your clothes public fuck. Your hands feeling so small, pressed onto his back. Your mouth biting into his neck as he slammed into you over and over again. 

The heat in your stomach was throbbing, the soft thrumming of your orgasm about to tip as Mirio claimed you like this.

“So cute like this, baby,” he laughed as if his cock wasn’t stretching you out despite all your clothes still being on. You felt his cock head press up against your cervix, and a loud pathetic whine stumbled out of your lips. “Did you like that? Finally, got to that little spot you like despite this angle?”

He hit it again, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, all noises that so desperately wanted to be heard getting cut off. 

“Look at you! You’re so cute like this, sunflower! You can’t even look at me, and you’re babbling! I think I’m doing great… job… at this, fuck, quirk control…”

Your eyes flutter shut, a gasping, needy breath expelling into his mouth as he kisses you greedily, and the heat grows exponentially when his hand permeates through your dress to pinch and pull at your clit. You’re so close, so deliriously near that, you begin to seize up, your walls fluttering with the actions that you know mean that you’re about to nosedive off a cliff into orgasmic bliss.

But there were always issues with having sex in public with a man who could not shut up.

“Togata-senpai, Y/l/n-senpai!” A voice yells at the two of you. Even with the thrumming warmth of your pre-orgasm, the voice washes coldly over you. Rippling the start of orgasmic bliss right from beneath your feet as you snap your head away from Mirio.

A loud, choked gasp escapes you when for a split second, his cock disappears from your clenching, denied cunt in an experience you could not begin to explain.

“Iida-kun!” Mirio exclaimed jovially as if the two of you weren’t at all fucking moments before, but as he did so, he seemed to deactivate his quirk on his cock.

“What are the two of you doing here! It is quite preposterous for the two of you to be… canoodling within the gala when we are all awaiting your presence!” Iida exclaims, his hands cutting and chopping at the air as he seems to frown at the both of you.

But you were busy with other thoughts.

With his cock completely solid back inside of you, tears were leaking from your eyes as white, hot pain erupted in your stomach and curled all the way down into your toes.

Mirio returned his cock into your ass, and the lack of any warning due to his quirk nearly had you throwing up in this new sensation. Your fingers curled roughly into Mirio’s shoulders, your ragged breathing “I’m-in-so-much-pain” breathes alerting both of the men before you who turned their attention to you.

“Are you okay, sunflower?” Mirio asked, his voice filled with genuine concern as he brushed a tear that managed to streak down your cheek. “What’s going on?”

“Yes, what is going on? What can I get for you, Y/l/n-senpai?”

“It h-hurts!” you cry, eyes locking onto Mirio’s, who seemed to gather just what was going on as his eyes grow with worry and also knowing actions. 

He shifted slightly, and his cock that was already so big moved within your ass, and you balked. You leaned forward onto Mirio’s chest, feeling absolutely dwarfed by your boyfriend as you held onto him with trembling arms and soft groans of pain and growing, intense pleasure.

“Ah, Iida-kun, would you mind if you could possibly give us some room? I promise we’ll join the gala in less than ten minutes?”

You can’t even see Iida’s reaction given that your eyes are leaking with your tears and the fact that you can’t even raise your head to look at your old younger-classmen. 

“Of course, I’ll leave y/l/n-senpai to you, but if anything happens, please come and get me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you!”

Your sniffling doesn’t seem to stop as Iida’s loud footsteps confirms his exit, but Mirio’s mouth is by your ear again, his hips taking a tentative, shallow thrust that sends you whining like a bitch in heat. Anal was something that Mirio loved to do. He always confessed to you each and every time as his cock would line up to your muscled rim that there was just something indescribably hot about you taking his cock that way.

Mirio was a big dude with a bigger cock, and you usually could, in fact, handle — thoroughly enjoy —  anal with the proper steps to lead into it, but this was a cock appearing in your ass without warning or knowing of it happening. You could feel your tears streaming down your neck, but bubbling moans of pleasure had already started again. The pain of the surprise was already wearing off by the time Iida had disappeared, and Mirio was once again shifting his hips for your best pleasure.

“God, I can’t believe you took my cock in your ass that calmly,” Mirio whispers in pure admiration, his hips taking longer, deeper strokes into you. “That was so fucking hot, I’m sorry I lost control like that.”

“S-Shut up…” you gasped, hands fisting into his coat as you tried to ride out the waves of pain instead. “Fuck m-me already.”

The laugh that seems to grow right from Mirio’s stomach makes your skin crawl as he nods his head, his hands grabbing your chin to stir you into a kiss as he begins to thrust into your asshole with much more daring conviction.

“I always forget how much you like this!” he sighs against your lips. “Always so ready for my cock no matter where it is.”

You whimper loudly, teeth burying into your lower lip, the slick from your cunt slowly gliding down to his cock, allowing for partial lubing. 

In and out, he moves, his hips moving faster than a manageable speed. Even without him being a hero, Mirio had kept himself in pique condition, and moments like this proved it. His fast rutting and delirious power into every slam of his cock into your ass was commanding and revolutionary. Your eyes welled with tears at the constipated feeling in your asshole, your mouth pressing back into his neck, sobbing his name. His fingers dive down and permeate through your dress and panties, and you swear you’re drooling when his calloused, hot fingers tweak and pull at your clit, savagely teasing it. 

Mirio laughs softly at the way you’re trying to hide your cries of pleasure. How you’re burying your head into his shoulder, teeth biting into his clothed skin. His thrusting movements became quicker, harder, and more consistent until a familiar sensation of his balls slapping your skin burned your mind. 

He was—

Holy shit—

He was making sure you could feel his once concealed balls against your skin and the warbled, shameless scream that he interrupted by shoving his fingers in your mouth.

“More,” you beg around his fingers, staring straight up at him. Your saliva coating his fingers, lips sucking around his fingers in hopes that he’ll heed your command. “Fuck my asshole harder.”

Mirio merely groans the pinch on your clit, making your hips buck awkwardly and pathetically against his cock and balls because of the table. And he began to barbarically slam into you so that the soft thudding of the counter hitting the wall shudders down your spine. 

Your body shifts with his every movement, the counter rocking with the force, your slick pouring from your cunt, and he let go of your tongue. In your crazed state, you sob at the loss of contact, but his hand that had been playing and teasing your clit shifts so that his thumb resides on your clit, and three of his fingers curl into your throbbing, orgasm denied cunt. The force alone nearly sends your eyes flying open, your vision still blurred with tears when his fingers drag against your puffy walls that you knew would let you squirt if he manipulated it just enough.

His fingers work at double the speed of which his hips slam into you. His fingers pushing the limits of your heat radiating walls, dragging them deliciously against your clenching heat. Then there was his cock, and at times the thin walls that separated his fingers and his cock brushed together, sending you into a new frenzy while you sobbed his name.

Begging for more, pleading to make you come.

“You needa come, sunflower?” Mirio huffs, his sweaty forehead pressing against yours, and you moaned loudly, knowing that he was also close. “Then come for me. Come against my cock and my fingers!”

“I-It feels so fucking good, so good baby,” you garble. Your jaw is unable to move for its slack against his shoulder. Your cooes only adding to the electrifying pleasure singing through your nerves, and with a loud squelch from your pussy, you come hard against his fingers, your ass instinctively tightening up at well.

You could feel the more foreign sensation of wet heat fill your ass as Mirio collapses against you, his heart hammering in his chest as the two of you just sit there. Your hands shifting to thread into his soft, fluffy hair as his limp cock disappears from within you, and you groan at the loss of feeling.

“Gross…” you mumble as Mirio stands straight up again after some time.

“Wha—”

“You came in my ass,” you sigh, although not at all displeased with it.

“Oh, sorry! I got a bit overexcited!”

It takes an additional three minutes for you to be willing to move to return to the event, but as you do, Mirio has an arm around your waist, readying to keep you upright all night if needed.

“Ne, Mirio?” you call as the both of you return to the main stage.

“Hm?”

“I think you’ve pretty much mastered your quirk again!”

[lumisfiction]

Just For Tonight

Kakashi x Black Reader

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kishimoto, gif not mine found on the internet.

Warning: Black Reader Insert, fluff

Part 1

****Part Two*****

Y/n’s house was the most enchanting place in all the Hidden Leaf, four miles into a secluded forest lay a stone path with handcrafted lanterns along it. The forest that surrounded it was filled with every color of wild flower that Kakashi had ever seen. It was as if he was no longer in the village, like he’d stepped into another world, y/n’s world. A world of fireflies, sun flowers, moon flowers, roses of every color, and lilies. A pastel painting with a deep green undertone of the entire forest. All around him were arches, tall trees with branches that entwined with evening birds perched on them singing their evening hymn. The dim light of moon peaking through illuminating the walk way. If it hadn't been for Sasuke and Naruto he would have never found this place.

Tugging eagerly at his vest Naruto guided him farther until they came to a large clearing. The moon and stars were brighter as it reflected on the surface of the small pond in front of them. It seemed all matter of creatures came out tonight in celebration of y/n, the sounds around him growing louder. A pleasant loudness that blended with the atmosphere of the pond and on its surface glowing lotuses glided past. Naruto reached down and picked one up, crystal liquid pooling over his small fingers. Kakashi watches as its blue light dimly lights the boy's youthful face. He looked his age then, like a child who held the most precious thing in the world. “These are her favorite” cupping it delicately Naruto presented his hands to him. “I know you came last minute Kakashi sensei, you can bring this as a gift” Naruto grinned a mischievous glint in his eye. “A gift” Kakashi scratched the back of his neck, painfully aware of his unpreparedness. In his haste to cheer Naruto up he’d forgotten that he just returned from a mission. His clothes were dirty and his hair was grimy. “I think a gift is the least of my concern” Kakashi pulled at his filthy pants, he could fill the dirt under his fingernails. He thought about y/n then how pretty she would look and her face when she saw him. It would be their first official meeting and this is what she’ll see. Her first impressions forever skewered by his dirty attire. It made his hands tremble and he felt heat rush throughout his body, a nervousness swelling somewhere deep within him. Nervous to meet y/n, like a school boy who finally gets to spend time with his crush.

Sasuke looked behind him observing a riled up Kakashi. Even in the moonlight and a half exposed face he knew exactly what his tinted cheeks meant. “She shouldn’t be home yet, you can freshen up once we get there” his arms practically spilling over with an assortment of flowers. Kakashi looked over at Sasuke sighing, was he that easy to read? How long has it been since he was social? Was he so out of touch that he couldn't even manage to hide his emotions from a prepubescent boy.

His mind wandered off again as he began to contemplate his decision to attend. It was all too sudden, what if he made of a fool of himself? Or worse what if he isn't welcomed? Thoughts were spinning around and round his head so much so that a scowl returned to his face and his exposed brow scrunched. His inner conflict occupied all of his attention so much so he hadn't noticed Sasuke making kissing noises. Not until the boy began to tease him childishly.

"Kakashi and y/n sitting in a tree k.i.s.s.i.n.g" Sasuke relentlessly teased Kakashi with a child-like twinkle in his eyes. It was perplexing, the cool headed vengeful Sasuke was the polar opposite of his former self. Laughing and smiling as he bent down to pick even more flowers along the water. Stopping to look them over and disregard the flowers he no longer wanted.

It was so out of character for him that Kakashi hadn't noticed he was gawking. “He always brings her freshly picked flowers” Naruto came into view with a smug look on his face. Kakashi hadn’t noticed until tonight how different with her in their life they had become. How both of them practically morphed into children right before his eyes. Naruto was feather light and cheerful while Sasuke was playful, thoughtful, and happy. They look so innocent he almost forgot they were shinobi, genin who’d soon participate in the chunin exams. He recounted to himself a time when he looked like them. When he too was happy and innocent. Just a boy and his father.

All of them fell in a silent stride as they began walking again. Crossing over a small bridge that brought them to their destination at last. Willow trees and what seemed like a thousand fireflies greeted them. There at the foot of the path stood the most beautiful wooden arch with yellow flowers twisting around it's bark. Dangling loosely from it a chipped wooden sign that read "Happy Birthday y/n. “I made that” Naruto’s face gleamed with all the pride of a not so masterful craftsman as he pointed his finger in the direction of if. Sasuke scoffed as he remarked how tacky he thought it looked. With an ego as big as his competition he stated how much better his lanterns were in comparison. Naruto glared at Sasuke, his eyes sharp as he retaliated with an insult of his own. There was no end to it, both of them going on and on about what y/n liked best. It was driving Kakashi a little crazy, having to go on missions with their insistent contest was one thing, but this was a whole other sort of annoying. The kind that made him so irritated that all the cool level headed temperament in the world couldn’t prevent the annoyed look on his face. He thought about home and his warm recliner. The green hardback book that he so often read to indulge his perverted mind. The faint feeling of heat coursing throughout his slightly reddening cheeks. What he wouldn’t give to go back in time and stick to his original plan. A plan that didn't involve two rowdy brats.

The house was a deep oak red with hints of a darker brown. It was large with a stairway above it that led to a smaller house. It had flags and a large telescope pointing toward the eastern sky.

The entire estate was homely and welcoming, the yard embedded with an even more alluring green. Fresh cut grass and lanterns that spread about it illuminating everything in its path. Nothing could make this scene before him more stunning he thought to himself as he looked all around in awe.

She descended from the steps, the most beautiful sight of all, Y/n. Her raven coils shining in the moonlight and her skin glistening like the surface of a smooth diamond. She was most certainly magical, the tail of her white dress flowing behind her when she walked a smooth glide only a goddess would have.

"Y/n" as fast as their feet would carry them Naruto and Sasuke ran to her open arms ruining her pretty dress even though she didn't seem to mind. She embraced them with a hug that only a mother would give her beloved children. When they parted Sasuke was the first to present his gift, a bouquet of wild flowers "Happy Birthday y/n". Her face lit up as she leaned over to kiss his exposed forehead and his face become even more redder than before.

From the distance where Kakashi stood he saw the pearls her pretty teeth, her full lips lifting the bones of her cheeks. The way her breast sat prettily in her clothes and the playful glint in her almond eyes. She seemed to get prettier as he came closer and his eye drifted downward and then up again taking in her full form. All of his former reservations escaped him,his heart thudding in his chest as he made his way closer. Yes, Just for tonight he'll indulge himself.

Author Notes: Trying to decide if this should just be a three part or more series. Next chapter will be released soon and it will contain light smut. Thank you for all your support!

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA AU Ideas : Your blessings are your curses.

Also on AO3

TL;DR:

Dead All Might acts as a guardian angel to this heroic quirkless kid he runs into. Izuku gets put into a dangerous situation and turns out – DNA wasn’t needed to pass OFA. Just intent. Izuku gains the ability to see All Might along with the ability to use his quirk.

Sadly, AFO notices.

Now Izuku is on the run with a ghost for a guardian after AFO’s goons kill his mother.

Your blessings are your curses:

TL;DR: Dead all might, acts as a guardian angel to this quirkless kid he runs into. Izuku gets put into a dangerous situation and turns out – DNA wasn’t needed to pass OFA. Just intent. Izuku gains the ability to see All Might along with the ability to use his quirk.

Sadly, AFO notices.

Now Izuku is on the run with a ghost for a guardian after AFO’s goons kill his mother.

So – In the fight between All for One and All Might six years before canon, All Might loses.

Not horribly. All for One is still left almost dead and retreats into hiding, but All Might falls unconscious never to open his eyes again, later dying of sepsis in the hospital. His eyes may never physically reopen, but he does awaken – translucent and noncorporeal.

For a while he doesn’t know if it’s a latent quirk, or maybe something All for One did as a final blow, but no – it’s One for All. One for All has a mind of its own and refuses to disappear until Yagi has found a successor. Not that Yagi knows that.

His old haunts are too painful to hang around, the whole nation is grieving for him and seeing that pain on his old friend's faces burns something fierce. So he does what he’s always done. He helps.

Midoriya Izuku is nine when his favourite hero dies. He sees how the nation is grieving and his desire to be a hero only burns brighter. The bullying he suffers worsens, hate crimes against the quirkless and those with ‘villainous’ quirks uptick. Japan isn’t a pillar of safety and security anymore – crime rates have risen to match or overtake worldwide averages.

Still, he feels almost, safer? He gets luckier – the book his classmate stole shows up in his bag by the next period, bullies trip more often, and sometimes as he runs from villain attacks or classmates with their quirks popping against the nape of his neck, he feels a broad hand push him forwards, giving him an extra burst of speed.

He decides it must be the All Might charm he bought the day before the news of All Might’s death broke. A small solid plastic charm meant for a phone with a bright yellow bell attached, along with a tag reading “I AM HERE”. He fills the bell with scraps of paper so no one can hear it ring as he holds it tight in his hand when he gets nervous.

Midoriya Izuku is nine when he is almost killed.

With All Might gone, organized crime spikes. Quirk trafficking rings spring up – very rare, but no less real. It’s one of these such rings that kidnaps Izuku on his way home from school. He awakens, sore and blurry-eyed in a warehouse with a half dozen other crying children. One by one they are forced to show off their quirks, to gauge their value.

Izuku has no quirk to show. He has no value to these people. They growl at him to stop playing around, to stop pretending to be a hero (his All Might charm is almost cutting into his hand from how hard he holds it. He needs his luck more than ever please all might save me one more time - ). He can't bring himself to shut his eyes as a flaming hand reaches towards his face.

For a moment it feels like he's being held. He feels safe.

A shockwave levels the warehouse, leaving he and the other children untouched, the villains buried in the rubble. Green sparks sink into his skin, dancing over the rapidly purpling bruises decorating his arm. He runs.

He comes back to himself in a park, sobbing and shaking, arms wrapped around his shaking form and an oddly familiar voice murmuring apologies and praise as a broad hand runs gently through his hair.

It seems One for All never needed DNA, only intent, to pass itself along. With the passing of the quirk, Yagi should have dissipated, but he refused, clinging to the child he’d accidentally burdened with his legacy, the same quirkless child he’d been playing guardian angel for all this time.

When Izuku sees All Might he freezes. It’s not All Might as he knew him, rather – this is the All Might that died. He’s translucent, faded around the edges, with a tattered and bloodstained costume, thick padded bandaging over his stomach hiding stiches staining to close infected wounds, doing little to stop the blood oozing through. Still – All Might’s eyes are bright blue and kind and his smile is as it always was. Izuku throws himself onto his hero and sobs.

All Might – Yagi, as he insisted Izuku call him – led him to the nearest police station, as he tried to explain what had occurred. It wasn’t easy considering Yagi didn’t seem to be sure himself, but Izuku was pretty sure the quirk he’d been accidentally gifted was sentient.

Izuku held his arms up to the sky, stretching his fingers to the pinpricks of light in the night sky. Sparks of glittering gold, green, white, blue and red jumped across his skin, like the static shocks he’d get when he wore his wool socks in bed, but less painful. They almost felt playful.

“What are they called?” Yagi looked at him, confusion clear on his face. One of his spikes of hair drooped, and if Izuku could ignore the dust and blood that ran through it it would almost be funny.

“They? My boy, do you mean the sparks? If so, they don’t have a name.”

Izuku frowned, letting his hand drop. He could feel the sparks gently brushing his injuries, almost soothingly. “No, I mean your quirk. They should have a name, they’re so nice to me.”

Yagi coughed, dark blood spilling from his mouth, never to hit the ground. “One for All. It’s called One for All.”

Izuku’s frown deepened.

“All Might, mama says it’s rude to call someone an it.”

Inko is reunited with her only mildly injured son, now excitedly gushing about a quirk he’d somehow manifested. She privately thanks whatever spirit finally decided to smile upon her son, even if it took so long.

Their happiness doesn’t last long. Days later Izuku receives a summons to the head office. He freezes when he sees the police officer, Yagi’s comforting hand on his shoulder the only thing that keeps him from running.

It was a villain attack, the officer says with kindness so forced Izuku wants to cry. Yagi looks angry. If you’ll just come with us so we can get you to the safehouse with your mother –

Yagi almost growls with rage. “She’s lying.” He whispers, habit enforced despite the fact Izuku is the only person alive that can hear him. “Follow her out of the school then run” Izuku does exactly that, quirk sparking up his legs and pushing him forwards, down the familiar path to home. He takes the stairs six at a time, quirk chipping the edges of the concrete as he hurls himself forward.

Their apartment is in shambles, bookshelves tipped, small objects laying scattered on the floor, a pale arm laying limply from a half-open bathroom door.

Yagi pushes him out of the apartment and confirms the identity himself. He urges a sobbing Izuku to say his goodbyes to his mother’s corpse as they quickly gather all the money in the house, a few spare clothes and whatever food and water Yagi could knock down from the pantry shelves for him. Izuku crams it into his backpack as he sobs, Yagi guarding the entrance as he boils with rage and guilt.

He didn’t think All for One would find Izuku. He didn’t think he would even be looking. He was wrong and now his boy was paying the price.

So starts his time on the run.

He meets Shinsou first, saving him from some rubble in a villain attack. He meets him again later, battered and bruised – not from a villain, but from his foster parents. Shinsou joins him, no matter how Izuku explains hes in danger. Shinsou wants to be a hero, and if the only way he gets to be a hero is stubbornly keeping Izuku out of trouble? That’s not a bad trade-off, considering izuku was the first person to save him.

A little while later the two run into Shouto feverish and badly burnt and try to nurse him back to health as best they can. A few days in Touya and Toga run into their little camp guns blazing, expecting them to have kidnapped Shouto only to see Izuku patiently trying to feed him rice porridge with a veritable pile of ‘liberated’ fever reducers on the floor beside them.

They apologise but Shinsou and a still feverish Shouto refuse to talk to Touya or Toga for like three days bc they made Izuku cry.

They refuse to leave no matter how Izuku explains he has a centuries old villain after him. These kids are ride or die. So Hitoshi, Shouto and Izuku are like 9 and trying to learn what they can from libraries and newspapers, never settling down for too long. Toga (12) and Touya/Dabi (14) try and keep them all alive by working or stealing what they need to live. It doesn’t take long for them to evolve into a mini vigilante group.

Aizawa becomes familiar with the messy group of short vigilantes that seem to bounce from prefecture to prefecture every second day, to the point that the force is pretty sure one of them has a teleportation quirk because they don’t seem to have any kind of home base. He’s completely uninterested in trying to arrest them in the beginning – they aren’t hurting anyone and are not half bad at what they do.

That changes when he meets them.

Battered and bleeding out in a rainy alley with a villain looming over him with a knife, Aizawa is pretty sure this is the night he dies. The knife swings back, glinting in the streetlights as he tries in vain to scramble backwards with heavy limbs. It never connects. The villain jerks back as a brilliant blue plume of flame cuts him off, burning the tips of his hair. Not expecting backup the villain bolts. Aizawa feels small hands helping him into a sitting position – his stomach starts to sink. When the short masked figure with curly hair speaks he feels his heart turn to ice. The figure couldn’t be older than 11, probably closer to 10.

He wakes up in the hospital and he makes it his mission to save these kids.

Ghost All Might is having a rough time. His boy is in danger and the best he can do is rattle windows and trip sprinting villains. He can’t help them enough.

He has a plan though.

He warns Izuku that he’ll be gone for a while and to keep safe without him and he goes out scouting. Being invisible and impermeable is normally a curse but when trying to find a paranoid 200-year-old super villain? It’s pretty damn useful. It takes months but eventually he’s not only tracked down All for One’s main hideout he’s also memorised his schedule. It’s nothing impressive considering the man is still mostly bedbound after what All Might did to him, but he won't be a pushover. It’s a start, though.

Izuku cries tears of joy when he sees All Might again and cries even more when he shares what he found. It’s do or die time. He offers every one of his friends the chance to split now because there is a good chance they’ll die, but none of them wants to leave him. With that, he starts planning.

They’ll need Eraserhead, no bones about it. Without him, there would be no way to strike the final blow. They spend a few weeks refining their stealth then they seek Aizawa out.

They knew he’d have a price for helping them, but they never expected it would be so high, but simultaneously so kind. In exchange for his help and a vow of silence he wants each child to let him help them, to find them a safe place to live, a school to go to – a future. Izuku has spent his whole life being told he doesn’t have a future, from when he was diagnosed quirkless to the almost 2 years spent on the run from Japan’s most dangerous villain. He’s still not sure he’ll have one, even with All for One dead, but he knows he wants his friends to grow up happy and safe.

He accepts.

With Aizawa’s help, with Dabi and Toga clearing the way and Shinsou standing in the wings as the last resort, Izuku kills All for One as he sleeps. Nothing flashy, nothing fancy, just quiet footsteps, a sharp knife and shaking hands.

Aizawa is horrified this child just killed someone in front of him, but Izuku is sobbing and All for One is notorious in underground circles so he keeps his quirk up until the blood stops flowing from his neck. He takes the children and flees.

[fromtheboundlesssea]

A Dream of Spring Chapter 69

Celia XIV

The dragons were frightening things.

They were beasts of fire and they felt as unnatural as their mother and as unnatural as the Pale Ones. They were made of fire, she could see it glow in their bellies sometimes, just as she saw the ice in the eyes of the Pale Ones.

She and Rickon were told to stay away from where the dragons were kept and Celia did so. But she could still see them when they flew.

Their mother was just as distant from the North as the dragons. They didn’t belong there and neither did she.

The Dragon Mother looked as though she belonged nowhere. She could easily slip from sight in her white and grey. Lady Sansa had said that the Northmen who wear brighter and prettier colors of blue and red and yellow. She had even shown Celia some of her old dresses that she might wear when she was older and winter had melted to spring. But it was winter now and the snow was harsh. They needed to wear dark clothing so that they could be spotted in the snow should the need arise. Even Celia knew that. Even the Dragon Mother’s people seemed to know that. But not her.

She stuck out like a sore thumb and it made it apparent every day that she did not belong. Her hair and clothes changed daily, while the rest wore clothes until they needed washing so as not to waste fire and water to clean everything.

A shriek pierced the sky and Celia pressed herself into Rickon as they studied their lessons and he slipped his hand into hers to make sure she knew that all was well.

He would keep her safe.

Continue on Ao3

[madtickler39]

Welcome to Club T’s

One of my fan favorites from the old blog, enjoy:

One could look at Emily and assume her life was perfect A nice home, well off family that was well known in California.  Naturally blonde hair, a petite little figure and long legs all around a smile that could turn a man to stone. Going to movie premieres, sports events and mingling with LA bigwigs, Emily was never long without something to do. Oh dont get me wrong, Emily never complained. She loved her family, loved her friends, loved her job. She’d never complain for a second. But still something was missing.  That’s why Emily found herself where she was, in a taxi outside a new and mysterious club in downtown LA.  She stared at the door for a long time before the driver finally asked “Are you gettin out or what?” Emily came back to reality and paid the driver, and stepped out of her car as confidently as she could.  What she couldn't sell her blue dress and black heels could. She walked into the club like it was nobody’s business, and was an instant bombshell to the eligible young men at Club T’s.   What made her walk into this particular club that night? Well, to understand that, we have to go back a little bit.  Emily had a friend named Stephen, and one time not too long ago Stephen did something she couldn’t get out of her head.  He tickled her.  It wasn’t her first time being tickled, not by a longshot.  For some reason, the feeling she got when he finally stopped kept coming back to her head like a drug, needing to come forward again and refusing any lesser pleasure. She had no trouble finding a man to do anything she wanted, but for some reason this one request proved elusive to her charms.  After a brief search on the internet, she found out that club T’s was the place to find what she wanted.  It wasn’t easy to find out how to get in, the people she was here to see were very secretive.  The main club was just like any other club. The music was too loud, the drinks were too expensive and you couldn’t see or move anywhere.  After a few minutes of moving around she found the specific corner that housed the VIP section of the club, she said the codeword to the bouncer, and with a smirk he let her in.  It was the look a wolf gives a deer after a day without food, and it unsettled her. Inside, the VIP area was another world.  The clothes were different, the lights were a bit brighter, and you could hear yourself over the music.  The men were dressed in anything from suits to T-shirts while the girls were wearing some pretty revealing clothing, anything that exposed the belly, shorts, mini skirts and few of them wore heels.  They wore colored wristbands, green yellow and red.  Green was an open invitation, yellow required an ask, and red meant not to approach.  Emily had a yellow wristband, fastened around her ankle like the website advised. There was more seating space than at any normal club here, couches and chairs everywhere.  The dance floor had some people, but others were chasing each other around the floor, and in a couch by the corner a man had a captive girl in his lap.  Her hands were bound and her feet were in his lap.  As he grabbed the toe of her sock, her bound hands came up to her face to conceal her smile and she shook her head.  He grinned evilly and slowly pulled the sock off, revealing her bare foot. At the edges of the dance floor were a few suspended cages, each with a girl inside and a person outside sticking a feather duster in.  Emily asked the bartender “What’s all that about?”  A cute redhead in a black corset said “Those girls work here.  The customers pay to use the feather dusters for a time.  They can also pay to remove clothing or lower the cages.  It breaks the ice for the newcomers.  Speaking of, is this your first time?” “Why yes” said Emily looking around. “Is this actually for real?” The bartender, whose nametag read “Sam” said “It sure is.  I can lock you in that cage if you’re too nervous to get started on your own?”  Emily blushed, and suddenly a voice came from behind her that said smoothly “Sam, hasn’t your boss told you not to mess with the new talent? Or do I have to tickle you for your tips again?” Sam blushed now, and backed towards the liquor shelf nervously.  Emily asked the tall, suit clad stranger “What?”  He said “Oh you haven’t heard? If you find their service in any way lacking, you have to give them the oppurtunity to get their tips tickled back into them.  That’s why she wears a corset, her pits are her worst spot.”  She hissed “Damon!” So you weren't kidding on the website” Emily asked. “This really is a tickle club.” Damon said “Oh yes, but if you want to see come by when Sam brings my bottle of Dom.  She needs a good tickling to earn her tips back after that hiss…”  Sam gulped.  She’d done it now.  Damon slapped down a 20 and said “Whatever the lady likes is on me.” Sam fixed Emily a drink and grabbed a champagne bottle, but Emily hesitated as Sam left.  Sam looked over her shoulder and said “You comin? This is what you wanted right?”  Emily finished her liquid courage, and followed Sam to a door labelled “Barefoot Room”  Upon entering, Sam said “It’s quite literal, no shoes allowed inside.”  Sam quickly kicked off her pumps and went inside, and Emily removed her peep toed heels to join her. “You learn quickly Emily” Damon smiled as he smiled at Emilys little feet as she flexed her toes “Im just amazed” Emily replied blushing as she felt Damon's gaze on her toes “Theres nothing to feel scared about Emily" Damon smiled as he took a sip of his drink. “so tell me what brings you here”” Emily took a deep breath, and then she started “It all started when my friend Stephen tickled my feet a few months ago.  It felt...well I guess how a normal person feels being tickled.  Sure, the laughing was fun but when it was happening I just wanted him to stop after a few seconds...afterwards I couldn’t get it out of my head.  I tried forgetting it, distracting myself.  Anytime I was alone with my thoughts, I thought of that sensation and how badly I wanted it back.  So I found this place...and here I am.” “And here you are.” Damon said.  He saw Emily look down nervously and said “Emily, come sit by me.”  She came and sat down next to him hesitantly, and drew her feet behind her knees, where Damon couldn’t see them.  It was all she could do not to blush.  He asked her “Sam needs to be tickled if she wants her tips from me, where should she be tickled?” “Her underarms” Emily replied without hesitation.  Sam shut her eyes and raised her arms, beginning to breathe heavily.  She begged “Please be gentle.” Damon looked and raised an eyebrow “you answered that quickly for a newbie; I think we may have a little sadist here.  Sam, I think we should let your new friend here do the honors” Emily looked nervous again, and said “You want me to tickle her?”  Damon nodded silently and said “If you'd prefer I can tickle her.  The whole time you watch her suffer knowing that it's coming for you next…” She was up in an instant, and facing Sam directly.  Sam felt her breathe and winced, that gave Emily an inexplicable pleasure.  She pounced. Emily dug her nails into Sam’s underarms, and Damon smirked as she screamed.  Sam was able to hold her arms up for a few seconds, but within 15 seconds they came down reflexively.  Sam laughed like crazy but Emily wouldn't let up.  Sam tried to turn away, but Emily kept at it, and pulled Sam closer. The punishment became a wrestling match soon as the girls came to the ground, with Emily straddling her hips.  Emily leaned forward and pinned the poor bartender’s wrists over her head and blew on her underarms, which drove sam into a mad fit of giggles.  She begged “HEHEHEHE Stop teasing!” Emily couldn't tell you why she said this, but she shouted “This is club tease!”  Before she could sink her nails back into Sam’s smooth hollows, Emily burst out laughing “HAHAHAHAHA!” And lost her grip. Sam scrambled out from under her, and went to Damon, who was holding Emily’s ankle, with his other hand gently stroking her sole.  She giggled gently with each stroke of his hands.  He patted Sam on the butt and said “That’s enough sweetie.  Call me when you get off work.  For now I have some soft, pretty feet to break in.” This comment made Emily blush, and wiggle her baby blue toes.  As Sam walked out of the room and grabbed her shoes, Emily looked down, anticipating the tickling.  The tickling was slow, methodical.  He was really tickling her brain more than her sole.  Reminding her that he could do what he want, control her body against her will.  He could make her laugh whenever he pleased.  All it took was a foot and a finger.  He had the finger, and the foot may as well have been a plaything of his.  It was in his grasp and she wasn’t getting it out. Emily remained on all fours(or threes, not counting the foot that belonged to Damon at the moment), and giggled when Damon wanted her to, otherwise she just accepted the breaks and caught her breath.  Sometimes she would look back at Damon, nearly melting him with that forced smile.  Other times she looked away and tried to just take it. During a break, Damon rubbed her sole with his palm and commented “I see you took the website’s advice and got a pedicure.  How recently?”  Emily giggled “A couple hours ago hehehe.”  she heard Damon inhale deeply and felt his lips rub along her sole now. His lips tickled ever so slightly. She giggled “hehehehe are you smelling my foot?” She read many of the men here also had foot fetishes, but never expected to find herself here tonight… He replied “You used a vanilla scented lotion.  It’s my favorite.”   “EEP!” She squealed, something had pinched the ball of her foot, and one look back at Damon licking his lips told the whole story.  Could she really drive him so crazy with just her feet? This could add some fun to the tickling...but before she could finish that thought, her mind commanded her to laugh again. Emily fell flat on her belly as she felt a warm, wet sensation streak across her arch.  She turned her head to the side to release peals of laughter, and started pounding the carpet with her fist.  If Damon’s finger was mean, his tongue was just cruel.  Emily was at once suffering and feeling an indescribable ecstasy.  All she could do to cope was laugh, and between breaths beg “Hahahaha! Stahahahahap!” Emily got herself a momentary respite from Damon’s tongue, but only because he needed it to taunt her.  His fingers returned to gently stroking her arches as he taunted “Oh you don’t want this to stop.  If you did you’d pull your foot away.  Look.”  Emily flipped over and saw that his hand was open, only cupping her heel.  He tickled with all his fingers slowly, and she reflexively pulled back a few inches, then paused. Emily hesitated a few seconds, it tickled so bad but there was just nothing like it.  Her foot slowly slid back into his grip, and his hand closed around her ankle.  She gasped, what had she done? Damon taunted “See? I knew you liked it!” And he tickled her sole all over again with his fingers, making her laugh even louder, wondering why she gave her foot to him.  He lifted her foot up to his mouth, but there was resistance from her tight little dress.  Damon lowered her foot and said “Emily, your dress is lovely but if you want to have more fun, it may be best to change.” Emily blushed again and said “I don't have a change of clothes.”  Damon began stroking her instep and commented “Not to worry.  There is a private changing room in here with spare clothes, better for our activities.”  Damon helped her up, and opened a wall panel that led to a cozy changing room. Emily removed her dress and placed it on a hanger, then found a pair of little pink shorts and a white tshirt to put on.  The shirt was awfully short, and only came down to her ribs, leaving her midriff vulnerable.  The shorts were quite short, revealing her long tanned legs. She emerged a little sheepishly, but Damon gushed over her, making her blush for the umpteenth time tonight.  She came up to the couch where he sat and requested “Where do you want me?”  She felt his eyes combing every inch of exposed skin, searching for a spot to make her squeal.  She felt uneasy, but exhilarated. Damon grabbed her by the hand and sat her on the couch next to him.  He draped her legs over his...and once she breathed out he lobster clawed her knees.  Emily shrieked, breaking down in helpless laughter as she tried to sit up and reach his hands. After a few moments of squeezing her legs and knees, Damon began to gently scribble his fingertips all along her thighs and up towards her hips.  Emily’s laughter went up in pitch as Damon reached her hips and pinched, and he licked his lips looking at that bare midriff. Damon gave Emily a break to catch her breath, and breathing heavily she sighed “hehehe that was fun.”  Damon had an evil smirk on his face, she asked him “What is that look for?”  Damon said “I’m going to have that cute tummy of yours next.  But I’m going to give you a choice, my tongue or my hands?”  Emily’s eyes bugged out, and she couldn’t possibly choose between tortures for a moment.  She thought about her feet, and his tongue was much worse there.  She answered “Hands.” Damon smirked, had she chosen wrong? What was he playing at?  She didn’t have time to think any further as ten fingers began wiggling along her midriff, and her tummy exploded with ticklish sensations.  She let out a loud belly laugh, and cursed as her hands wanted nothing more than to seize his and make it stop.  Despite this desperate need, her mind would not allow them, making them twitch up and down her sides in a comical fashion.  The game changed utterly when Damon managed to wiggle a finger into her navel, making Emily scream like a banshee before breaking down in frantic laughter.  She tried to get him off of there, but her hands were swatted away by his free hand.  This was almost as bad as her toes, or that tongue! Maybe she should have let him use his tongue after all… After a minute or so of her navel being explored and prodded, Emily couldn’t take anymore.  Her begs became more desperate, and Damon heard it in her voice.  She cried loudly “Uncle! Hahahahahaha! Please! Mercy! Hahahaha!”  Damon stopped rather quickly, but Emily didn’t manage to stop giggling for another minute.  He rubbed her belly during this time, and at last she recovered.  She propped herself up on her elbows saying “That was wicked...I’ve never felt anything like it before.”  Damon smirked, and said “I bet not.” Before they could say anything else, a blonde woman and a brunette with golden brown hair came into the room dancing with each other, kicking their shoes off as they entered.  They plopped on the couch opposite Damon and Emily.  The blonde said “I told you if we danced Damon would get us a snack!”  Emily covered her face nervously as she blushed like a teenager, and would have curled into a ball had Damon not held her knees.  The brunette asked “Who’s the tickle toy?”  Damon said evenly “Girls, this is Emily.  Emily, that is Shay, and Blair.  Two tickle slaves of mine, who need to remember what happens when they don’t use their manners.” Damon continued “Emily is new, and I think she has had enough for one night.  Blair, why don’t you tie Shay’s arms over her head?”  They got to work, enjoying themselves and clearly under the influence a bit.  Emily asked “So what, just like that we’re done?”  Damon smirked and said “For tonight, after I do one quick thing.  If you want another session I’ll see to it that you can contact me.  Sit tight.”  Damon got up and tested Shay’s bonds, who was standing on her tiptoes in the middle of the room, suspended from a chain.  Damon produced two more cuffs and said “Your turn Blair.”  She giggled as she assumed position for her restraints. Once they were restrained Damon instructed Emily “Give me your sole” holding his hand out.  She placed an ankle in his hand, and he produced a pen.  He slowly and painstakingly wrote something on Emily’s sole, but she couldn’t tell.  All she could do was laugh and scream until he finished.  It felt like an eternity of that ball point pen stroking her arches, but it was bliss for her.  When he finally finished, he pecked each of her soles goodnight and she left for the evening.  She inspected her sole before putting her shoes back on, and it read Damon’s number and address.

[tooruluv]

Kei Tsukishima x F!Reader ( part 7 ) [ final ]

❝ they were the sun and moon, destined to be together but only ever totally meeting once every hundred years or so. ❞

description: in a world where you only see color when you're in love, you've grown frustrated of the greyscale. but falling in love with someone you barely know was never something you planned. and, him not returning the feelings definitely wasn’t planned.

genre: soulmate au... except not quite. everyone is born colorblind. you can only see color once you fall in love (and it grows brighter until you see full color as the love grows). however, that doesn't ensure a lasting connection. it simply means that love exists in that moment, until it doesn't.

word count: 1,879

warnings/notes: that’s all folks!! thank you all for reading and leaving feedback on this one <3 it was my first time writing a soulmate au so i hope it was okay for the most part fsjklhalfkh anyway! enjoy and please leave feedback <3

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“ if you could only see how blue her eyes could be..  ” - if you could only see, tonic

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

You decided to keep your distance. You couldn’t be his friend when your heart continued to be shattered at a measly “no”. 

As he walked you home in silence that night, you considered a thousand different ways to get rid of the colors. To get rid of the love you had for him.

It was incredibly toxic, you thought, to continue to be friends with a boy your heart pined for.

You still volunteered with the Karasuno team. It was a bit strange, though, because you would do your best to either stay behind with Hinata and Kageyama, or you would leave with Ukai. Anything to get you out of walking with Tsukki and Yamaguchi.

Hinata was the first one to notice that things weren’t the same (always the observant one). 

“Did something happen with you and Tsukki?” He asked you after practice as the both of you cleaned up the last of the volleyballs.

“I can see color, and he can’t.” You confided.

“We knew that.” 

You chuckled, considering if you should tell him. In the end, you figured “what’s the harm?”, so you said, “We kissed. And even after that, he still couldn’t see color.”

He audibly gasped. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”

“It is not your place to be sorry.” You fluffed his hair. “Are you all done for the night?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Staying away from Tsukishima was harder than you anticipated. 

He was in your class, he had lunch the same time, he was on the team you voluntarily helped with. Everywhere you went, he seemed to be there.

“Do you really think the colors will finally go away?” Haru asked you.

You three were sitting at a picnic table at lunch. It had been almost a week of avoiding the boy and the colors were still as vibrant as ever. You figured falling out of love would be harder than falling into it.

“I hope so.”

At the same time, Tsukki and Yamaguchi walked by. They both looked your direction, and you only exchanged a small look with Yamaguchi.

“They miss you.”

“I know.” You returned to your food, no longer hungry. “I miss them, too.”

One day at Blu, Tsukishima had come in with only sweatpants and a hoodie on. He seemingly just woke up and rushed out without thinking much of it.

You thought he looked handsome no matter his attire.

“What can I get for you today, Kei?” You asked in your usual customer service voice. 

He didn’t glance at you as he ordered his usual black coffee.

You were about to punch it into the register when he added, “And a blueberry muffin.”

“I heard that blueberry muffins are actually purple.” You offered as conversation. Not that you knew what either of the colors looked like.

“That’s stupid.” was his reply.

After a month of avoiding the boy, you were growing frustrated. The colors hadn’t even dimmed, let alone left. They were still bright and loud.

It was like a taunt every time you woke up.

You shoved an (obnoxious) bright yellow shirt on as you cleaned your room. It was an old softball practice shirt that you found in the bottom of your drawer. You had no idea back then how incredibly bright a lot of your clothes were. Why did your mother let you leave the house? 

It was a weekend, and you figured that cleaning your space would also help in clearing your mind. Putting on the shirt was your way of saying “fuck you” to the colors.

As you blasted music, a knock on your door interrupted. 

“What did you do to her?” Yamaguchi asked Tsukishima the day after the kiss.

“What do you mean?”

“You did something to her.” He crossed his arms. “What did you do? She won’t talk to either of us, like I have some part of whatever fucked up shit you did.”

“I…” Tsukishima pushed up his glasses. “I kissed her. Well. We kissed.”

Yamaguchi nodded, thoughts processing. “Then you rejected her again right after, didn’t you?”

“Am I supposed to lie?”

“Yes.” He shrugged. “But you’ve been doing that a lot, huh?”

The knocking on your door persisted, and you eventually gave in and answered.

With a hard swing of the door, you sighed, very irritated, “What?”

Kei Tsukishima stood in front of you, hand still above your head in an attempt to knock again. His eyes made contact with yours. Those golden fucking eyes.

“You’re avoiding me.”

“No shit.”

“Why?”

“Why?” You scoffed incredulously. “You’re kidding, right? Why am I avoiding you?”

“Yeah.” Tsukki seemed sincerely confused as he shoved his hands back into his pockets. “What did I do?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. You shook your head, looking away from his eyes. 

He said, “It isn’t like I’ve lied to you.”

“That’s true. You’ve been brutally honest.”

“Then.. why are you avoiding me?” Tsukki tried to catch your eyes again. 

“Because every second with you hurts, Tsukki.” Your frustration echoed in your voice. “Every second that I spend with you is a painful reminder that you don’t and won’t feel the same way about me that I feel for you. And you constantly remind me of that little detail.”

Without a moment of hesitation he said, “Telling you that I don’t love you back should help you. I don’t see what your issue is.”

“You don’t see what my issue is?” You put your hand back on the doorknob. “How’s this: my issue is you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m done, Tsukki.” You met his gaze. “I’m done. I tried to be your friend, I tried to get rid of the stupid colors. But everything I do only makes them worse. And you consistently telling me that you don’t see the same that I do and always being an avid reminder that you don’t love me back… it sucks. And I can’t do it anymore. It’s draining.”

“So you’re going to… what exactly?” His voice got louder. Angrier. “Just forget that I exist and never talk to me, or Yamaguchi, or the team again?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, clearly still pissed off. “That’s the plan.”

You were pissed that he came to your house a month after you stopped talking to him. You were pissed that all of this started with your stupid part time job. You were pissed that he was standing in front of you looking fine as hell. You were pissed that you still saw colors with every waking moment. 

You were pissed that you fell into an unrequited love.

“You can’t just…”

“But I can.”

“No, you can’t!” His voice got louder. You could raise your voice, too.

“Yes, I fucking can, Kei.” You told him. “You don’t know how many times that I’ve tried to get rid of these stupid fucking colors. I’m so over looking like an idiot because of the one person who…”

“Can you shut the fuck up for just a second, I can’t even pay attention to what you’re saying with that bright ass yellow shirt you have on.” Tsukki interrupted, grimacing as he looked away.

The entire world froze around you. He seemed to figure out what he said far too late, closing his eyes. Your heart seized in your chest and you felt as though you just got the wind knocked out of you.

“Wh.. what did you just say?” Your eye twitched. 

“Hm?” Tsukki turned to you, pretending to be oblivious. 

“What did you just say, Tsukki?” You felt tears arriving, but you were forcing yourself to stare at him. “How long have you… How long have you been able to see color?”

“Since I ordered my first black coffee.” He stated. As if it was nothing.

As if it didn’t matter.

“You…” You let the tears free fall down your cheeks. But you laughed. “You could see color this entire time?”

“Just listen…”

“No! No.” You took a step back, putting distance between you and the cause of your heartache. “You just claimed to have never lied to me, yet you’ve been lying to me this entire fucking time.”

He started to say something, perhaps explain himself. But you could barely breathe.

If your heart hadn’t been damaged enough by his constant rejections and painful “no”s, it was completely shattered now.

“You let me believe this entire time that you didn’t feel the same way about me.” You could taste your tears, but ignored it. “For nearly a fucking year, you watched me go through hell. You let me ruin my own heart and let me become frustrated with my own fucking life. You kissed me and then told me that you didn’t love me. You…”

“I love you.” He interrupted, trying to get you to stop yelling.

It was the first time he had said it, and it had slipped past his tongue as if he had been meaning to say it for months.

“I guess it’s a bit late for that.” 

You watched as the colors drained from the world. Your focus turned back to the greyscale as if a vacuum sucked every single color that had existed. 

The last color you watched dissipate was the gold in his eyes.

fin.

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