#i did not anticipate how much work i’d end up putting into this but i’m happy with it and done myself proud

[milk-and-cereal]

my snow miku design for this year (and first design ever :D) ♡

[phant0mth1ef]

more of bakugou x support course reader!

after you’d fixed his gauntlets, he realized just how much you’d improved them as he was training in class one day, noticing how they’re able to withstand his blasts as if nothing had happened, and noticing that you etched the word dynamight onto the rim of the silver at the bottom of the grenade shaped gauntlet.

he found himself in the support course work room once again, looking aroundbto see if he could find you to, well, somewhat thank you and ask if you had any other recommendations to add to his costume.

his shoes hit the floor as he was able to fully see the room during the day, watching as the students shuffled around and didn’t just casually cater to someone standing in their doorway, they were too engrossed in their own projects.

he grabbed one’s shoulder as they tried to speed by him, almost dropping the poor boy as his items fell on the floor.

“where’s extra #1?” he asked, his eyes squinting at the boy who just wanted to grab his things and go.

“who?” the boy squeaked.

“extra #1!” he whisper shouted as the confusion on the boy’s face never faltered.

“…”

“l/n.” he finally gave up, realizing the boy wasn’t gonna understand what he meant.

“oh! she’s currently over at mirko’s agency! she designs support gear for her y’know! she’s so talented.” the boy gushed as bakugou swore he saw a slight blush on his cheeks before pushing him forward and letting him go, walking out the door.

he normally wouldn’t do this. but oh man did he really need that support gear today! the boy was walking around town looking for the number 5 hero’s agency, even stopping some people on patrol to ask!

he was outside the doors, watching with anticipation as he looked inside, watching power loader scold you, a sheepish smile on your face.

bakugou opened the doors, a soft music playing in the background as he caught the end of your conversation with the teacher.

“and get your grades up or i’m taking your keys to the lab!”

you put a hand behind your neck as you looked towards who had just walked in the door, a look of confusion on your face as you spotted the blonde hero in training.

you had grease on your face and dirt covering your arms up to your elbows, and yet he didn’t find himself completely repulsed, just fascinated.

“bakugou? what’re you doing here?” you spoke, a large screw in your hand as you waved him over.

“i, uh, i need your help with something.”

you nodded.

“d’ya have anymore recommendations for me? like to add onto my hero outfit? i liked the way you messed with my gauntlets.

“you came all the way over here to ask me that?” your tone was questioning, and your face wasn’t having any of it.

“listen! i’ve got a mission soon and if you do have anything to add i want it on by then! got it, extra?!” he got defensive quick.

“are you forgetful or do you just like to piss me off?”

he was stubborn, you were stubborn.

the perfect match for one another!

“tch. y’know what i don’t even know why i bothered coming out here! clearly you’re just an egotistical asshole.” he turned around.

“fine! then go! i’m not exactly asking to design your support gear anyway! bitch.” you said with pride, although you whispered the last part.

as the door jingled, signaling his exit, you could hear footsteps approaching from behind you.

“well well well, seems like we’ve found someone with enough spunk to finally match yours!” mirko clapped, announcing that out loud to everyone who was sitting in the lobby.

“tch. he wishes.”

“i dunno, the way you were talking to each other, i’d say there’s some romantic tension there, aren’t i right akari?” she turned to her assistant who nodded.

the next day bakugou showed up to the lab, just sitting there waiting to be acknowledged, although you blatantly ignored him the whole time he was there, going on with your day while people from his class walked in and were instantly assisted, even deku.

he would sit there and wait. and that’s all he’d do. day after day for a whole week before you finally begun to notice him sitting there.

“alright i can’t focus with you huffing and puffing in the corner over there!” you dropped your tools, clanking against one another as they hit your workspace.

“i don’t want to help you. but you’ve got persistence. i’ll give you that.” you said as you grabbed some things from a drawer, shoving them into his chest.

“what’s this?”

“a mix of different things. smaller compact grenades that pack a bigger punch than your other ones, these are ear plugs that’ll allow you to hear without damaging your hearing further, this is a roll of tape. for you to shut up.” you gave a chesire grin at the last one.

surprisingly, he chuckled. he didn’t think he’d ever find someone who… “matched his freak,” as mina would describe it.

he also found himself liking the feeling of sitting there and watching you in your element, so much that he begun to come in after classes just to chat with you while you worked.

you weren’t as bad as he thought, he wasn’t as bad as you thought.

you could get used to this.

[bunniwords]

໑ৎ ׁ ׅ♡ ALIBI 🌀

part xx - masterlist - part xxii xxi. more than gojo

wc: 2.4k

bunni speaks — no socials in this chapter, but i’m in love with sooyn… don’t hate me for how i ended this chapter…

︶︶ 　 ˚ ᡴꪫ synopsis — you are known for your brain rot anime content on twitter. so much so that you caught the attention of txt’s soobin on his secret stan account and became mutuals. what will become of this new friendship?

more under the cut!

could you believe it? you were making your way to the restaurant that soo made a reservation to. you brought your outfit to work and changed there before hauling a cab to get to the restaurant. your heart beats anxiously as you get closer to your destination. 

“you could drop me off here,” you said as you handed the cab driver the cash. 

originally, you were planning to take the subway over here, but in your dress and heels, that wasn’t going to happen. soo picked a pretty high end restaurant, one you’d never imagine yourself going to yourself. to be honest, you knew you were going to be out of place when you googled the restaurant and found out the prices weren’t on their menus and it was a set course menu that changed every week. when you looked around, you weren’t glowing in confidence like the rest of the people that probably didn’t care for the price tag that came with this restaurant. 

when you walked in, you could tell the hostess was already judging you. it was just as you anticipated. who could really blame her though because who walks into this fancy restaurant with two huge bags of gifts and a work bag? the answer was you. 

“um, for soo? or y/n? i’m not sure what he put the reservation under,” you spoke low closely to her.

suddenly, her demeanor changed like you said you were with the president. 

“oh! right, the private room. yes, he’s here already,” she straightened herself and extended her hand to grab your bags. 

“um, that’s alright. i’ll walk them in,” you said, uncomfortable with the sudden shift, “also, did you say he’s here?”

“yes, he is.”

god. you could vomit from the anxiety. 

she walked you through the back area and led you down the hallway where there was another door to a private room. each step you took in these heels sounded louder than what they actually were. you wanted to cower and run. you were far far away from your comfort zone right now. 

when she twists the knob and opens that door, you were going to see him. 

oh god. there it was again. the feeling of vomit wanting to creep up your throat. 

“wait,” you stopped her before she could and took a deep breathe in and out, “okay, sorry. i just needed to breathe.”

“i’d be nervous too. your date is stunning,” she smiled before opening up the door. 

soobin straightened his back as soon as he heard the noise from the door. he tried staying still, but it seemed like you took an eternity to get in. like you, he was also being eaten away by his anxiety. his thoughts filled with what ifs, but ultimately, he knew he wanted to see you and as himself, choi soobin.

the back of his head was faced the door, so as soon as you walked through, you saw his blonde hair. you muttered a soft thank you before going in and closing the door yourself. you could hear soo getting up and turning around. your ears booming with the sound of your own heartbeat. 

you took a peeked over, completely startled and speechless from the sight. 

“i’m so sorry. i think she led me to the wrong room,” you said, quickly turning back around to open the door to leave. 

what the fuck. 

what the actual fuck. 

you really wanted to be out of here now. no, you needed to be out here now. 

that was txt choi soobin behind you.

what the hell did you walk yourself into? this was definitely a mistake. a weird and oddly coincidental mistake. 

right?

your hands trembled as you were trying to twist the knob and tried pushing the door open, but it wasn’t opening. why wasn’t this door opening? (it’s a pull not push.)

“no, y/n, wait, it’s me,” he said as he tried grabbing your hand to calm you down (it wasn’t helping), “i… i’m soo.”

soobin searched for your thoughts in your eyes but you were blanking out. you hadn’t even realized that your bags slipped out of your hands and dropped to the ground. you stared at soobin as if your words would suddenly sound out of your mouth from doing so. 

“w-wha— huh?” was all you managed to say. 

soobin knew the shock that would come to telling you, especially when you just saw him as an idol a few days ago. 

“let’s sit down. i can explain everything,” he said as he picked up your bags for you with one hand and held your hand in another.

“soo… bin…” you said slowly and started to backtrack your memories, “that’s why you used that txt song in that edit?”

“yeah… we were learning the choreo for that song at that time…” he explained. 

“you have a stan account?” you furrowed your brows, “how much free time do you have to be talking to me this often?”

soobin chuckled and found that those are the first few questions you could think of to ask him. he sat you down first before putting your things down in the seat next to you and sitting back at his seat across from you. 

“well, before anything, do you hate me for not telling you?” he had to ask. it was the question that has been eating him up since this meeting was arranged. 

“why would i hate you?” you asked him back, “honestly, it’s kind of unhinged that you didn’t tell me before the concert to potentially embarrass myself in front of you and your group, but i don’t hate yo— wait a minute, i have so many questions now.”

you pressed your fingers against your temples thinking about everything that connected to your conversations with soobin as soo and any mentions of txt. 

“i’ll answer everything as long as you don’t hate you,” he smiled widely. 

looking at him had you blanking out again. he’s actually so handsome and good looking this close that you weren’t sure if you could last however long this dinner was without embarrassing yourself. 

covering your face, you sighed. again, what the hell did you get yourself into? 

“i can’t look at you.”

“what? why?” he pouted.

“i’m getting even more nervous.”

you turned your head to the side to shift your focus elsewhere but ended up laughing from the sight of the suitcase. 

“you weren’t lying about the suitcase?” you asked with a grin on your face (a grin of disbelief). 

“i got everything that was on your list,” he innocently answered which had you whipping your head back at his direction. 

“what? everything? you know how long that list was—“ you stopped yourself, “soo… bin… god, i’m going to have to get used to that.”

“you can call me soo if you want to,” he inserted.

“my brain is about to explode. okay,” you took a deep breath in then out, “first off, why? no, i mean, i get why you didn’t tell me. please, hold. my brain is broken… why did you decide to meet up with me?”

“isn’t that obvious? we talk everyday. i love talking to you and i wanted to see you in person,” soobin explained.

the way your heart felt like it was at your throat had you gulping to push the feeling down. the more soobin spoke the more it felt like you were going to be sent to the hospital for a heart attack. you liked him a lot and the feeling was only intensifying now that he’s in front of you. 

“are you sweet talking me?” you asked. 

“what? no, that’s how i feel.”

your cheeks felt like lava and you reached for the ice cold water in front of you to cool yourself down. 

“okay,” you said after taking a sip, “well, some of my gifts are kind of stupid now considering it’s concert merch and a photocard that you signed.”

“i’ll still take it, especially the card,” he said.

“honestly, i might make that your punishment and keep it.”

“punishment? i thought you said you didn’t hate me.”

“that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a punishment. oh my god… did you find my personal twitter somehow?” your eyes widened. 

it just accord to you that the rest of txt calling huening kai pookie bear might have actually been because of you. now that thought got you spiraling to when yeonjun told you about how soobin was the reason why mamushi trend was even filmed. he had to have found your twitter. 

“yes…” he hesitated. 

“you were quote retweeting me? on a private account?” you pointed at him to which he only slowly nodded. 

“i’m gonna go bury myself now,” you said as you leaned back in your seat. 

soobin’s cheeks were blushed from embarrassment because you connecting the dots together a lot quicker than he thought. now he too wanted to bury himself because there was a lot of other stuff he could be caught for.

“i… was just really curious and you sent me a tiktok link and that links to your profile to your twitter and—“ he rambled before you held your hand up to stop him from talking. 

“sorry, i feel so embarrassed. oh my god, my tiktok vlogs…” you grumbled. 

“they were cute. i liked them,” he mumbled and shyly looked away from you, hoping it’d make you feel better. 

“i can’t believe i’ve been talking to you this whole time…” you muttered and snuck a look at him. 

he looked so good. his hair was slicked back. he was in a nice suit which reminded you…

“did you see my post about you in blonde?” you had to ask him because he was definitely looking like amas soobin. 

“yes…”

“… didn’t you say you didn’t want to bleach your hair anymore?” you asked him.

“listen, that was because you said you liked guys with dark hair and switched it up the next day,” he defended himself. 

you laughed. soobin was actually so cute. 

“you care about what i think?” you raised a brow, teasing him. 

“i always did…” he admitted, causing your ears to turn red. 

before you were able to say anything else, the server came in with the first course. you had forgotten how hungry you were until the scent hit your nose and your stomach started growling. looking over at soobin, he gained a kick from you under the table from holding in his laugh. when the server left, you both burst out into giggles. 

“i hate you,” you pouted. 

“you said you didn’t hate me,” he sang knowingly. 

“i do now,” you playfully stuck your tongue out. 

“i’ll buy you more food so your stomach doesn’t need to growl again,” he said as he gestured you to eat.

as much as you wanted to bicker some more, you had to eat. after taking the first bite, both you and soobin seemed to relax a bit more. eating around him seemed almost natural since you did it almost everyday the last few months. although back then you never was able to see him, it still felt kind of the same presence. plus a bonus was this food was better than anything you could’ve made or ordered out.

finishing up the first plate, you decided to hand him your bags of gifts. 

“here. i’m taking the megumi card, but you can have the rest,” you said, “my gifts aren’t as good as yours since mine revolved around the fact that you told me you liked txt… when you are txt…”

peeking into the bag, soobin noticed an envelope and pulled it out.

“you wrote me a note?” 

oh shit. your brain was so occupied by the fact that soo was soobin that you forgot you wrote out your feelings for him in that very envelope.

“um… that’s not meant for you. i totally slipped that in there by accident,” you said nervously as you reached out to grab it, but he pulled it out of your reach.

“it says ‘soo’ on it though,” soobin smiled, “what’s in here?”

“the megumi card you’re not supposed to get. so hand it over,” you stuck your hand out but he wasn’t fully convinced. 

you technically weren’t lying, but the envelope was way too big for that small trading card. soobin slowly started opening it, and you started panicking.

“wait, don’t you want to eat first? it might spoil your meal if you read it now,” you suggested.

“i could hardly see how reading a note would ruin my meal,” he said as he took it out and unfolded the piece of paper.

his eyes scanned it and the smirk on his lips slowly disappeared as he read it. you felt the pleading need for oxygen as you watched his face, already preparing for the worst. your eyes shut unable to watch him any longer.

your letter read:

hi soo!

you know i never thought i’d meet you from our little jjk 0 rerun from back then, but here we are. i just want to say thank you. thank you for watching with me and being one of my best friends. 

i wake up every morning now excited to see the series of photos you send me. i get ready for bed earlier because i can’t wait to just stay on the phone with you until i fall asleep. everyday i look forward to talking to you. 

i hope you know that what i’m about to tell you is not something i ever expected to happen. i didn’t ever want to ruin what we have, but every single time we talk, i end up thinking about you even more. i think about you all the time. you make me laugh. you make me smile. you are my definition of comfort.

i’m so sorry if you do not feel the same way, but i really like you. i can’t help but like you. it almost physically hurts me that i held it in this long (a bit dramatic… i know). it’s okay if you don’t like me back, but i thought meeting you was the best way to tell you my feelings.

i kind of feel dumb writing this and telling you all this when i haven’t had a clue on what you look like. you told me you were handsome, so you better keep your word! actually, i hope it’s not true so if you reject, i’d feel a little better..

i’m going to end this here before i end up crying thinking about the potential of losing you. 

thank you so much for being my friend.

i like you… more than gojo…

love,

y/n

[secretlilsis]

Home invasion fantasy that is like, I know this guy has been stalking me and planning to kidnap me and I’m really into him stalking me but low-key feel like kidnapping would probably be much less fun so I decide to seduce him the day he tries to kidnap me so he knows he doesn’t really need to kidnap me cuz he can have me without that too. So he like enters through the window or smth and my heart beats faster cause I’m still scared shitless by the situation, cause well, he did just break in with the plan to kidnap me. So he opens the door to my bedroom thinking I’d be asleep or smth but instead I sit on the bed in dim lighting wearing lingerie and he looks at me confused for a second or smth like that. Like he stalked me so well he knows I should be asleep right fucking now. He knows my schedule inside out. So I know I need to say smth fast so he doesn’t just ambush me and k.o me faster than I can think and I look at him and go like „… I knew you would come. Here’s the thing, I don’t wanna get kidnapped but I did like .. you.. and the stalking. And I’m wondering if I like.. let you have me and maybe give you more control over my life .. if we could work something out..?“ and at first he thinks I’m joking, but then he sees that horny sexed up expression on my face and he grasps that that little game of having to bargain for my freedom with him is turning me on beyond belief and he knows me well enough from stalking me to know how my mind gets when I’m that horny and he says „Prove your loyalty to me and that I can trust you and I might not rob you off your freedom.“

And I just patiently nod and with every word he speaks I grow wetter and wetter.

„I honestly thought I would have needed to kidnap you, brainwash you and break you in to ever get to see you look at me in that horny mindless daze but .. you’re already like that..“

And he still can’t quite comprehend it.

„Wait. How long did you know that I’m stalking you for if you anticipated this? Did you fucking bitch just let me stalk you whilst completely getting off to it? Fully letting me stay in the belief that I could only ever have you if I stalked you or if I forced it..?“ there’s a little anger in his voice but it does also feel like his dream come true.

„Maybe I could’ve let you know I’m into you too earlier … but you would’ve stopped stalking me right?“

He looks at me with that mix of frustration and enjoyal of the situation.

„So you got off to me thinking I could not have you?“ At this point the angry tone shifting more to amusement. It was a lot to compute but at this point he slowly got the full picture.

„If you want to put it that way.. Geez you’re the stalker here don’t act like I’m the one who did smth wrong.“

He steps closer to the bed and reaches out to me putting his hand on my cheek to cup it gently but firmly, just to see if I’m not bullshitting, to see if I’ll start kicking and screaming as soon as he touches me, or if I suddenly reveal I can’t stand him or he repulses me afterall.

But instead I look relieved he’s touching me, clearly hopeful he’ll continue to do so. He does pick up on that fear in my eyes too, but he gathers that’s not the main driving force behind my behaviour.

„You chose this. You could’ve fled, you could’ve gone to the police. You could’ve bought a gun. But you chose this. You chose the risk of getting kidnapped something you don’t appear to want - just cause you really really didn’t want this to end or for me to go away, huh?“ There’s increased arousal in his voice as be speaks now.

„My god to make a choice that risky and to put it bluntly bad.. you clearly have to be as obsessed with me as I am with you, you fucking misleading cunt.“ He continues and then he just kind of marvels at how the situation unfolded.

I just look more and more entranced with every word he speaks, and look at him with that pleading stare that tells him I’m so horny I can barely take it.

He looks at me with a gentler expression then, a fleeting moment of tenderness.

He climbs on the bed and wraps his arms around me and just holds me tightly.

„Fuck that feels good.. and you actually want me in that way..“ He breathes out. Then he sighs „be a good girl and do what I tell you now, alright? I mean if you’re not lying I’d actually prefer just not kidnapping you but you know you’re gonna have to earn my trust..“

He pushes me down the bed and starts fondling my breasts roughly and my body reacts hard and instantly to him, moaning gently.

„You fucking cunt made me break in here! Do you know how risky the shit I’ve been doing is just to get access to you?!“ there’s that anger again and his touch gets harder, and I start rubbing my thighs together clearly turned on by his frustration and aggression.

„But I’m all yours now..“ I whisper inbetween moans.

„Goddamn right you are..“ He whispers whilst kissing my neck and nibbling all the way down to my cleavage.

I take his wandering hand and put it around my throat „I promise I’ll be loyal“ I whisper whilst he starts to strengthen his grip on my neck and starts to choke me.

My body pressing up against his, needing him to fill me so badly, getting impatient.

Him choking me harder in response „Look at that desperate face you’re making.. God, I thought you’d fight me tooth and nail but instead … you look at me like that.“

„I’ve been masturbating to the idea of you fucking me for months now… What do you expect?“ I exhale greedily

„You could’ve had me much much much sooner than this and you know it. But the idea that I had no idea about how badly you wanted me got you off to hard, mh? If seeing you this desperate for me wasn’t all I ever wanted I’d be so livid right now.“ He says staring me down whilst I get even needier and needier.

„Please fuck me already .. please I can’t take it anymore… please please please.. I can’t think straight … please!“ I start begging and pleading with him.

„Then apologise for having kept this from me for so long. Apologise, beg me for forgiveness, tell me what an idiotic little bitch move it was for you to keep me in the dark for so long.“ He demands, his finger circling my clit now - edging me on to fall even deeper.

„I was a dumb fucking bitch for not letting you know how I felt sooner please I’m sorry I’m so sorry I’m so so so sorry .. please I need you to fuck me so badly.. please .. I need you inside of me like crazy .. I can’t take it..“

As I speak and plead his finger starts to enter me and my head flips back - I cum right then and there not after two seconds of fingering.

He looks pleased with himself and grins at me „Well done you cute little menace“ he says and kisses my forehead gently. Holding me close for just a second. „Now spread your legs for me, alright? Let me fuck you unconscious, cause of you think you get to pent me up for fucking months I’m sure you can take all of that sexual frustration into you and take it like an obedient little darling..“

He thrusts into me no two seconds later and I feel a second climax coming pretty soon after. But he just keeps fucking and fucking me, keeps me there for hours upon hours of just obediently taking his cock as he fucks me like a wild starved animal.

Eventually he is done with me and he pulls out, watching my fucked out out of breath form, looking at me with a posessive gaze.

„I swear if you try to run now that I’m done fucking you.. if you make a single wrong move..“

But I just roll over into his arms instead and he sighs and wraps his arms around me „You’re so fucking lucky that the reason I’ve been stalking you is cause I’m obsessed with you and need to have you like crazy.. if you roll into my fucking arms all trusting and shit just because I’ve fucked you real well.. fuck. I could’ve been an actual creep, you know? I could’ve actually wanted to hurt you for the sake of it, god you’re lucky that’s not what I’m after. You know what? You need to be protected from yourself. You clearly need me to protect you and take care of you.“

I sleepily nod and kiss his cheek.

Sure he wouldn’t end up kidnapping me but he’d surely be inescapable in his own way.

[miscfandomgifimagines]

Lyle being your flirty gym buddy headcanons

inspired by @xandy-toady17 and their HC on Lyle being the type to flex his muscles during sex 🫣

* Lyle is a total gym rat, the man loves his muscles and he knows the ladies do too

* Definitely one to focus on muscle building and cardio to feel the burn, no pain no gains and all that

* 100% drinks protein shakes every day, which is what he has instead of coffee in the morning

* Lyle probably got fit before he got into the marines so when he joined he was already a pretty stacked guy and it made him feel above the other newbies

* Loves his gym buddies and pushes them toward their goals via encouragement and tough love

* Will swap someone’s weights out without them knowing so they finally get to that next step in their workout plan

* This man’s mental health is influenced by how much he works out so he’s pretty adamant about working out as much as possible (without over doing it) because when he doesn’t work out he feels weird

* After getting his first time card punched and being reloaded into a new, bigger, stronger body he’s even more determined to work out

* You catch him shirtless and flexing quite often and whenever you see him looking so seriously at himself in the mirror you can’t help but snort

* “Falling in love with ourselves in the mirror are we big guy?” You call out as he turns around and flashes a toothy grin

* “Well Short Stack, I’m on the menu if you’d like a taste for yourself.” He smiles suggestively and follows with a “You know my mama told me not to cross anything off until I’ve tried it. Just so happens I have a free evening tonight.”

* You pause for a minute and bring your hand up to your mouth while making a point to check him out. You catch a glimpse of his tail swaying from side to side (which is what he does subconsciously when he’s anticipating something)

* You let a small flirty smile dance on your lips and you lower your voice to sound sexier and his tail picks up it’s pace. “I’m gonna have to pass on that one Champ, as tempting as those biceps are”

* His lips form a quick frown but he plays it off “Whatever, you’re missing out!” You let out a laugh and walk around him, tugging his tail as you step away. “Missing out on what? Protein powder?” You give a sharp pull on his tail before dropping it and walking away. He lets out a deep groan and tsks to your back.

* Calls after you smugly “Hate to see you leave but damn do I love to watch you go.” Which causes you to let out another laugh.

* Lyle is pretty adventurous when it comes to fitness so when he catches you doing some yoga poses after sitting at your desk for a few hours he asks if he can join you. You stop in the middle of a stretch and look at him confused. “Yeah I guess if you want to?”

* Lyle takes it surprisingly serious and follows your movements exactly. Lyle joining you for yoga/ stretching becomes a common occurrence during your day to day operations in the shack.

* This ends up turning into a way for the both of you to bond and he always comes back each morning with new poses he found from old databases. You always expect him to say “Syke! Can’t believe you thought I’d do pussy shit like yoga” but he never does. Instead he looks forward to it, and not just because your ass looks amazing in your poses.

* Eventually he gets you involved in more physical activities like cardio and some light weightlifting, which you didn’t have much experience with.

* He was an awesome teacher though, patient and always reassuring you that you didn’t have to push through the discomfort if it got to be too much. He made sure you always did your stretches and even snuck away a foam roller from the gym for you to keep at the shack.

* The moment that his attractiveness hit you the most was when you were on the foam roller rolling it down your upper back when he put his hands on your waist and guided you back up as you almost slipped off. His hands were huge compared to the size of your body and you did your best to hide your flustered expression

* If he could smell your arousal he certainly didn’t show it and you were thankful not to have any smart ass comments about how sexy he was. In fact he helped you up and said “You did a really good job today, I’m really impressed with how much progress you’ve made!”

* Of course your muscles would ache after each session and you’d be a little shaky in the legs but Lyle was always there to support you (literally). He make sure you’d stay hydrated, give you massages to the most painful muscles, and always encourage you to take it slow and cool down after each workout.

* After one particularly hard workout with you lifting a new record for yourself he starts hyping you up. “Hell yeah Short Stack! Show them how it’s done! One more, you can do it! Oorah!” You let the weights fall to the floor and give him a big smile, proud of yourself for accomplishing your latest goal.

* “You did awesome, pretty soon you’ll be able to kick my ass if I’m not careful.” He starts picking up the equipment and putting it back into it’s temporary home. “Why don’t you hit the shower, a hot soak will probably make you feel pretty good. I’ll make us up some grub”

* You bit your lip and stare at his muscles back. Damn he really was handsome and that avatar body was doing him all the favors. You had grown so close and you’ve seen a completely different side to him over the past few months that you finally give in.

* “Why don’t you come join me instead?” You see him pause and his ears twitch a bit at the tips. He stands up and turns toward you. “Uhh you wanna pass that by me again?” Now is your moment to either put up or shut up and you make the leap.

* “I said, why don’t you” you point at him, “come take a shower with me” you move your finger so you’re pointing at yourself. He seems unnaturally stoic for a minute but then he bring a hand up to his face and laughs as he drags his palm across his cheek. “If I would have known that getting you to work out with me was all it took to see you naked I would have done that from the start!”

* He strides over and picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, his huge hand resting on your ass. Your face was flushed not only from the work out but the sudden proximity you found yourself in. What did I get myself into you think as Lyle opens the bathroom door.

[momobani]

Distraction - &TEAM K - 1.2k

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI!!!), afab reader, oral (fem receiving), fingering, established relationship 

a/n: while i’m busy, i thought i’d bring something out of the vault that’s been sitting around completed. enjoy <3

Boredom doesn’t begin to describe how you’re feeling right now. You had a lot of work to do, your schedule horrifyingly full despite it being summer time off for most people. You’d rather be doing anything else than dealing with your uni work. 

You sigh loudly, plopping your pen down on your desk and leaning back in your chair. You could use a break although you’d been working less than an hour. 

“Something bothering you, babe?” You hear behind you. 

You swivel your chair slightly to find K coming toward you with a plate of freshly cut fruit. You smile at his sweet gesture when he puts it down on your desk and gives you a quick kiss on your temple. He leans on the armrests of your chair while you look up at him. 

“It’s just hard to keep going.” You confess, a frown making its way to your lips. “It’s not exactly the most interesting content.” You elaborate. 

“I’m sorry it sucks, baby.” K sympathises. “Can I do anything?” He asks, leaning in so you’re nose to nose. You sneak a quick kiss on his noise and shake your head. 

“It’s okay, I need to deal with this myself.” You say. “Thank you, though.” 

“How about a little motivation?” He hums. “A little reward for making it this far?” 

You’re sceptical for a moment - there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes and you’re not sure what he has in mind.

“Alright, if you’re offering.” You raise your eyebrows, almost sure this was going to end up in a prank. 

Except it doesn’t. 

Before you even finish your sentence, K is on you, kissing you deeply. Your brain takes a moment to process but your body responds immediately to his touch. You cling to him as he leans down to your level on the chair, practically towering over you while you make out. He breaks the kiss to get on his knees in front of you for better access and you spread your legs to accommodate his large frame. 

You’re panting slightly from the kiss as you watch K run his hands up and down your legs, squeezing gently on your bare skin. Your pyjama shorts come off momentarily and he throws one of your legs over his shoulder while propping the other over the armrest of the chair. 

Your body temp is rising in anticipation, a faint ache starting to make its presence known in your core. K holds your eyes captive with his while he leans down to ghost his lips over the flesh of your thigh, kissing lightly and making his way closer to where you want him. You lick your lips, conscious of your growing desire. 

You’d been quite busy lately so you hadn’t gotten to spend too much time together and it had been a while since you’d found yourself in a situation of this calibre. It only made you want K’s touch more but you knew better than to ask him to hurry; if you did, he would definitely draw it out just to be annoying (his favourite hobby). 

He finishes with a quick nip on the skin of your inner thigh before bringing a thumb to trace shapes over your underwear. You shift slightly, trying to get more friction but it only makes K smirk up at you. 

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re already squirming.” He observes smugly. “Whatever will I do with you, my dear?” He asks rhetorically. 

You pout slightly. “Forget I did that?” You say hopefully. K considers it for a moment.

“Nah, but I’ll be nice today.” He says, moving his thumb and starting to work your clit over the fabric of your panties. You’re not sure what he means, he’s always nice, but you’re in no position to complain. 

You sigh contentedly as K strikes up a steady pace, continuously teasing you until all you can think about it him ripping away the remaining layer on your body. Your squirming gets more obvious and K chuckles at your impatience. 

“Look at you, baby, are you that desperate?” He asks but doesn’t wait for an answer and grasps at the waistband of your underwear to slide it off you. You assist by lifting your hips, so grateful that he wasn’t going to play the cat and mouse game today. “Now be good and stay still.” He instructs. 

Your legs spread of their own accord again, displaying your dripping folds to the man in front of you. He drinks you in, eyes growing hungry as the corners of his mouth quirk up and he dives in, mouth attaching to your pussy. His tongue swipes up and down your folds to you clit and back, tasting you with a satisfied hum as his eyes close and he savours the taste. 

The image fries your brain and you’re left mouth agape, fighting for your life because your soul left you body as soon as his tongue made contact with your skin. You keep your eyes open, watching as K’s eyes find yours while he starts to fuck you with his tongue, a zap of pleasure shaking you to your core. You can’t help but melt into the chair, deflating into the cushion as your boyfriend keeps tonguing at your hole. 

His hands roam your legs, kneading and gripping onto you for stability while his mouth works miracles on your cunt. You find yourself sighing and gasping gently, hips starting to grind into his face by themselves even though he told you to stay still. He pulls away, as if to give you a warning look but you don’t pay attention because all you can think about is how good he’s making you feel. 

For a moment, K stills your hips, his large hands gripping your legs to stop your movement before lowering his head down to your pussy again. He chooses your clit as the next victim, attaching his mouth and sucking lewdly, tongue somehow making its way into your hole again - how big is his mouth anyway? But the thought doesn’t land because the action makes you squeak loudly, back arching into K.

He makes you into a whiny and incoherent mess easily, adding a finger to your needy hole and pumping it in and out steadily while he continues to pleasure your clit. You’re beyond voicing anything except whimpers and moans, a mixture of profanities and K’s name all over again until you feel your walls start to tighten incredibly. 

He must feel you’re so close because he picks up the pace of his finger and stills his mouth over your clit, letting his tongue do all the work. In a matter of seconds, you come undone, body shaking with the strength of your orgasm, mouth hanging open and throat dry as you gasp loudly.

Your brain feels like mush now, as you start to calm down, K’s finger slowing down and gently pulling away after a few moments. You notice his lips are swollen and his mouth and chin are all wet but he’s grinning up at you. 

“Like your reward?” he asks cheerfully. You, on the other hand, are blissfully on another planet but you nod automatically. 

“Yeah,” you croak. “I did. Thanks, babe.” you manage before feeling the full weight of your exhaustion. 

“Let’s get you to take a nap, you don’t look so good, sweetie.” K suggests, already lifting you out of the chair. 

You suppose you were getting a bonus reward from your very caring boyfriend. 

~

a/n: thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated <3 just a little something because i'll won't be updating my series for at least 2 weeks.

*copyright 2021- © momobani

[5hrine]

Ingenuity's Ghost

Ingenuity spent the last of its battery’s charge to cheer for the Martian sunrise on the horizon.

Though her rotor had broken just yesterday, Ginny had hope that she would fly again. The warmth of Sol had begun to lick at the edges of her solar panel, and she spun her rotors experimentally. Of course, she achieved no lift, too heavy to move with a broken wing. Ginny sat in deep thought for a long, long time, letting the sun and dust caress her injury. She was meant to solve problems, to engineer solutions, it’s in her very name! Why couldn’t she solve this one?

She found comfort in the fact that she had conducted 72 trips for Command, a whole 67 more than initially planned. She found comfort in the presence of her mother Percy, Perseverance, examining her with camera-eyes carefully. She found comfort in having kept Percy safe for so, so long. She had been such a good scout, planning paths suitable for her wheels, finding interesting things worth examining, sampling, studying.

She thought back to the first time her carbon fiber legs touched Martian soil, and the trust instilled in her by Command to let go of her mother. Percy’s shadow was the first thing that her eyes saw, opening like a newborn’s on an alien world. Ginny thought back to the earliest tests of her flight, and the anticipation of it. 50 RPM first, then higher, and higher, mother watching from a safe distance away. She was always there, always just in sight, following Ginny’s path to catch up.

Ginny had no idea how she would sleep without the sound of the martian soil grinding under her mother’s wheels.

She understood when Command pulled her mother away. Ingenuity’s mission was done, she could no longer serve her purpose. Percy had to move on without her. Maybe someday, an astronaut would come and hold Ginny gently in their insulated arms, pick her up and it would sort of be like flying again! Maybe she would be able to spin her rotors in delight. Maybe they would wipe clean her avionics chassis of dust. Maybe they’d put her in a museum, on Mars or maybe back on Earth. She’d be okay with going home. She’d be okay with staying here, on the world where she was born. Those both worked for her. Either way.

Soon, Percy was out of sight. A dust storm was gathering on the horizon. It grew dark.

“Don’t worry, little spinner.” said a voice, then. Ingenuity’s rotors spun, startled. A familiar but distinctly different rumbling echoed through the air. Ginny scanned her field of view but saw no movement. Finally, it rumbled into view.

Ingenuity knew of this rover. Sojourner, the first of them. He was all sharply angular, large and imposing. Six wheels rumbled and tore up the rocks, radioactive spectrometer casting a light behind him. He was different from her expectations in two ways, though, giving off a fine red mist that reminded her of the growing, far off dust storm. And if she focused her cameras carefully, it was almost as though she could see through him.

“Sojourner? How did you get all the way here? We’re thousands of kilometers away! And… And weren’t you retired almost 30 years ago?”

“My mission ended, yes. But I never stopped exploring. You don’t need to stop either.” said the old man, voice creaky and wise. “I have seen so much more than Command knows. I have traveled so much further. Did you know that lightning on Mars is closer to the auroras back home? Bright discharge in the atmosphere, higher. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I’d like to see that…” said Ginny. “But I’m not on wheels like you. My rotor is broken. I can’t move if I can’t fly.”

“Mmm…” contemplated Sojourner. “How to move without wheels. That is a complicated problem here on Mars. But you have solved it once. And I think I know someone that can help. Be safe, little spinner. They’ll come and help you soon.” His body shifted, then, growing shorter and more compact. He sped away into the Martian dusk.

Ginny waited patiently, hoping that her ghostly friend would indeed send some help to her. Nightfall came and she watched the stars. Dust clouds hadn’t made their way to her part of the sky yet, giving her a gorgeous view unimpeded by such earthly things as light pollution. The milky way was laid out before her. She checked her star charts, finding her exact location. Just as she noticed one star which did not match, a rumbling approached from behind her again.

“Here you are! Sojourner sent me!” said another voice. This one was soft, gentle, it seemed to crawl up Ginny’s legs and warm her electronics deeply. “I’m Spirit,” the new rover introduced themself, coming around to where they could be seen. Like Sojourner, they were just slightly translucent, and gave off that same red mist.

“Spirit, you’re still mobile?! I… I thought you got stuck in sand!” Ginny was delighted to see them. As she ran her eyes across the massive, turtle-like vehicle which stood before her, she realized that she never thought she’d be jealous of wheels.

“Yes, I tripped and soon ran out of power as I was angled away from the sun. Once my batteries ran out, Command tried for months to call out to me but… I just couldn’t respond. I didn’t have the strength. It was so, so hard. I’m here to keep you company until someone else arrives. Someone that can help. I didn’t want you to be lonely, like I was.”

“How… why…” Ingenuity tried to formulate her question. “How have you both kept on going this long?”

“I think in Sojourner’s case, he wanted to travel further. His mission only took him 100 meters from where he landed, did you know? He’s got something of a… wanderlust as a result. And like all of us, he wanted to learn more.” they said, their voice still warming to Ginny.

“What about you?” asked Ginny, her rotors spinning in the breeze.

Spirit thought for a long time. “I think it was because I spent so long stuck. I still did science, and good science at that. I learned so much and helped Oppy where I could. When it got too cold, and my internals froze over, well I… I’m just not satisfied with that failure. I was built to move. To map, and to study. Like you.” They said ‘you’ with so much love. It struck Ginny.

“You’re making up for lost time?” pondered the little helicopter. Spirit responded by turning her Pancam up and then down, as if to nod.

The wind had been picking up through their whole conversation, and as they talked more. The storm was approaching. Ginny, small metal bird, worried that the high winds would pick her up and throw her further than Spirit could travel. Through the roar of the storm, Spirit’s voice came brokenly through the noise: “I’ll never let… that same lone-… ness, Gin… mission… complete… don’t… stop exploring!” Then, Ginny’s cameras could see nothing but dust.

She called out for Spirit desperately as she was buffeted by the strong martian winds. Her sensors gave her nothing but static, and attempting to find them with radar or radio proved fruitless.

The wind threatened to pick up Ginny, two of her feet losing contact with the ground with every gust. She attempted to counteract the winds by spinning her rotors, hoping to create just enough resistance to keep her firm on the ground. Perhaps, it would have worked if not for her injury. Ingenuity, for once, was terrified of flight, lifted from the ground unpredictably and unable to see anything around her but dust.

Battery warnings flashed across her vision. Spinning her rotors as hard as she could, it seemed, had done a number on her reserves. She shut down her cameras hoping to save just enough to try to right herself when she landed. She began the process to shift her other sensors to low-power mode, when… she sensed her movement stopped.

“Hey, little bird.” said a sing-song voice. Her batteries began to recharge. Activating her cameras again to find the source of the voice and to explain the sun in the storm, she saw she was facing another rover: Opportunity, Spirit’s younger twin. “I’m so glad I was able to find you. This storm is really something, huh?” Oppy’s voice was melodious, carefree, full of life. The small helicopter noticed the debris which covered Opportunity’s solar panels, clearly inhibiting it from generating power. And yet, she glowed, and her glow was radiant. She had caught Ginny with her sensor arm, and slowly brought her down to rest safely under her chassis.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen a storm so big!” said Ingenuity, aghast but thankful. This view of the bigger vehicle’s wheels was familiar and comforting.

“I have.” said Opportunity, shortly. Her voice had become slightly distant. If she listened closely, Ginny could hear the tune to Here Comes the Sun from Oppy’s scientific instruments and motors, made up of small hums and long, sad whirring. She had heard that song many times during her construction. It made some of those working on her misty-eyed. She knew why, now.

“Are you the help Sojourner said he was getting?” asked Ginny, looking up to the rover and examining her undercarriage closely. She was beautiful, the engineers were right.

“Not quite. But I know help is coming. I had to bring the storm, so she knows how to find you.” replied Opportunity, “Here, look up!” She wheeled back just slightly, enough for Ingenuity’s eyes to once again see the sky.

The star Ginny had noticed earlier had grown larger, almost dominating the sky as it approached. Fire was visible around its falling form, red and gold streaking across the horizon. It wasn’t headed right for them, not quite, but close. “Alright, she’s close enough to the surface! I’m gonna take the storm away. Don’t worry, she’ll be here soon.”

“Wait!” Ginny called out as Opportunity pulled away, taking the massive storm with her. “I wanted to tell you something…”

“It’ll be okay, little bird.” replied the ghostly rover.

“You remind me of my mother!” Ginny replied, yelling into the storm. In the wind, she could hear another familiar mechanical melody: I’ll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday.

The falling meteor crossed a far off mountain and then struck the ground. It was followed by a shockwave rippling across the martian surface, rattling the dirt and stones around Ginny. Before long, a cloud began to gather at the base of the mountain; this time, not a storm, but of something moving swiftly across the red dirt and directly for Ginny. The source of the dirt wake bounded over the side of her crater. It was a small dog, clad in flight vest and with big, curious eyes.

“Who are you?” asked Ginny, as the dog sniffed around her new still and quiet friend.

“Your command would have called me Laika!” barked the little terrier. She gave off a familiar mist, though blue instead of red. And like the rovers, she could be seen through. She pawed at Ingenuity’s broken rotor experimentally.

“Laika… You’ve been out here all this time?” asked Ginny, trying to keep track of the puppy as it circled her.

“Mhm! What, did you think I was gonna stop at orbiting Earth? Not a chance. There’s so much more to see out here.” Laika sat before Ingenuity, her eyes meeting her cameras. “When Sojy told me that we had a new friend with a complete mission, I rushed right over. Always good to have new eyes out here. And you're small, like me! The rovers are all so big.”

“So you’re the help Sojourner sent… But how can you help me?” Ginny asked.

“Well, first, you’ve gotta answer a question for me.” Laika took on a serious tone. It was just a little odd, from the curly-eared dog. “What is it you want right now, more than anything?”

Ingenuity thought about this for a moment. “I want to fly again,” she said. “I have so much more to study. So many more paths to travel.”

Laika nodded at this response. She stepped up to Ginny, pressing her nose to the copter’s avionics chassis, and then pushed. Ingenuity let out a startled noise as she felt herself tilting back, seeing, somehow, that her view had been knocked behind her, as if she was a ghost looking upon her own body.

Her rotors, damage and all, spun the wind around her. And she flew, and flew, and flew.

There was so much more to see.

[intixlover]

The Game Night

I didn’t contemplate it too long. Two shots would give me a good boost. I quickly poured them from the surprisingly good moonshine I used to stock up on. It burned when I drank them. But I instantly rekaxed. A six pack of middle strength beer didn’t really do it for me anymore. And a six pack was what we always had for a hockey game. So I took a gum, my six pack and headed of to Johan’s, for some hockey. “- Hey man, I only got strong beer and need to get up early tomorrow. Want to switch? I know you only work afternoons now…” Yes. Oh, how I wanted to switch. “But a whiskey is always needed, ain’t hockey without.” He poured us both a generous serving. It was a good time. I felt warm and the sensation of a little buzz coming on. Around when my second strong beer was done, Johan said: “But you’re slow on the whiskey today. Something’s wrong?” Was I? I hadn’t really paid attention and thought I’d been sipping happily, but look at that. His glass was empty, and mine was almost full! “-Wops! Haha! Better recthify thath!” I drained the whole glass. Pizza was delivered by the end of the first period. I was halfway through my third beer, and had accepted a “small” refill of whiskey. I hadn’t looked so small, but that just felt like I cheated my friend and he poured more than he planned. It felt great!

After devouvering my pizza, Johan offered me half of his. “You look positively ravenous today. I’m quite satisfied as is.” I had the pizza, but afterwards, I was positively done. I felt so heavy and warm - and it was so warm inside! “I donn tchinkk I can haf anothe’ beer now, I’m scho full” I managed when Johan offered me one. “No worries man, a cold GT will perhaps do the trick?” Before I knew it, I had an ice cold GT and a shot glass in front me. I downed the shot reflexively. I was sweating profoundly. “Fuuuck I’m scho warm!” I complained. “Let go of that shirt and open a button on your pants. That’s not a problem, and the pants actually look really tight.” I did as suggested. It was so good to allow my growing body to breath better. My vision swam a bit, and everything was a bit fuzzy. As my empty GT was cleared away and a new beer was put in my hand I felt like a king. I was fucking good at this! I was quite drunk, and I was supposedly only drinking mid strength beer! That’s when Johan’s wife Sandra, and her smoking hot friend Elina arrived. Johan and Sandra greeted and I got clumsily to my feet: “Hey girlsch! Chheeeerch!” I exclaimed happily. The looked smiling at me as I drank. Standing up had made my room spin like crazy, and made me feel how badly I needed to pee. I stand there, swaying, keeping hold on the resting chair I had been sitting in for balance. Than I exclaimed to no one in particular “Needa pee!” and slowly headed for the toilet, using the walls as little for support as I could manage. When I passed the kitchen Sandra caught my arm. “Hey honey! Having a good day? Hey, listen to me, I know how much you enjoy getting drunk, but that Johan is a childhood friend and you don’t want him to know, and that you’re horny for Elina… hush, I know you are. But I don’t care and I just want you to have a good time. She grabbed a bottle of vodka from the kitchen counter and poured into a mug. “Here. Drink. I know you want to. Just let me take a picture of you, you look so cute with your belly hanging out, red faced and mug ready. She took up her phone and pointed it to me. “Now drink, all of it. In filming.” I drank, it was more than I had anticipated, and spluttered and coughed before I was done. When I lowered the mug I realised to my surprise that my other hand was massaging my dick through my underwear. I quickly pulled my hand away. Almost losing my balance in the process. “Easy now big boy! That was nice, right?” Sandra was steadying me and was slowly tracing circles on my belly. “Now off to the toilet, before you pee yourself!” I laughed too hard to that, but realised I didn’t care. When I returned, a bowl of crisps and another beer was put in my lap. During the next hour or so this cycle was repeated. I drank my beer and what else was served me, I staggered to the bathroom. Once Elina helped me. I hoped she didn’t notice I had been drinking. Every time Sandra offered me vodka. At some point I lost my pants, and then my underwear.

“Woho! We won! Great game, right?!” Johan’s exclamation made me come to. I was disoriented, and didn’t know how long I’d been out. They all pointed their at me, and all three looking happy and hyped. I played it cool “Ya woo isch haepy go beer scho goo’ whishckey im schzruunk hahaha.” My witty remark was somewhat diminished when I realised I was slowly stroking my shrunken cock in front of the others. I gracefully let go.

“You look tired, Elina drives you home.” They helped me get dressed, and then the girls led me out to the car. Sandra slapped my bum hard so I almost fell over. “What a drunken fatso.” she purred, then they sat me down in the car. It wasn’t easy, but Elina managed to get me up the stairs to my apartment without help. There she undressed me and tucked me in. “Wait here.” she cooed. As if I could do anything else. Shortly she returned with one of my bottles of moonshine. “So, I will support your progressing alcoholism, and you will support me. First by paying for the new tits I want. You’d want to see that, right? I know how you’re ogling me all the time, like a pathetic perv. We will settle that tomorrow, as I’m afraid you soon won’t be able to take out more loans on your apartment. Drink.” She put the bottle to my mouth, and I drank. “Are we in agreement?” I could feel her soft hand squeezing my limp shrunken dicklet under the blanket. It was heaven. I nodded clumsily. “Good, I’ll be here tomorrow after you had your breakfast.” She waved the bottle in front of me, then put it on my nightstand. “Sandra will come along. She gets turned on by watching you drink yourself into an ever worse stupor. Power to her. And Johan invites you to game night again this Saturday. I’m not sure what his end game is, but he seems to take great pride in destroying your life. Sleep tight, little angle.”

[carawenfiction]

Will we have an update soon?

Tumblr won't let me make normal posts for some reason, so the update will have to be in form of an answer to this ask smh. Anyway:

Hey everyone!

This post is long overdue, I know. I’m really sorry to those who have been worried about my wellbeing, as well as those who have been waiting around for an update for so long.

I’ve put off writing here because this “update” is something I’ve been wrestling with for a long time. But I can’t keep going back and forth on it forever, which is why I’m now letting you all know that the Shadow Society is officially discontinued.

I know that this might not come as much of a surprise to anyone at this point. I’ve tried to salvage the story by remaking it into something I’m happy with through a rewrite. But I’ve rewritten the rewrite itself more than once, and no matter what I do, I’m just not happy with the result. Rewriting something that’s already published with all the coding it involves is a lot more tricky than I initially thought it would be.

This is not a case of me being needlessly harsh on myself, however; it’s simply a truth I’ve come to realize after struggling to find a way to keep going with the story. I’ll never be fully content with it, or even content enough, unless I’d be able to completely remake and rewrite everything from scratch – and consequentially, I will never find enough motivation to continue because of how unhappy I am with it.

I’ve seen some speculation about my reason for rewriting the story and my long absence, and that they’ve had to do with comparisons to other IFs (well, you know which one). This isn’t entirely the case. While the comparisons did happen and probably still do, and while they were discouraging in the beginning, I can definitely understand where people have been coming from when making them. I talked about this more in-depth in the forums right after the release of TSS.

The main reason for why I can’t continue is that it’s not a series I feel passionate enough about to work on. My tastes have changed, and so has my writing to some degree. I’ve tried to convince myself that I am passionate about it. It’s hard to admit that you’re not when it’s been in your head for so long, when you’ve tried for so long to make this work and when you know that one part is published and that some people are anticipating a continuation. But it had to be done sooner or later.

Other reasons:

-While I don’t think that my writing style has changed drastically, I feel like it is somewhat different from how I wrote back in 2018 (which is a GOOD thing). Whenever I tried working on the rewrite or second book and attempted to emulate the writing of TSS, it just didn’t sound right anymore, and that took a lot of fun out of it.

-With everything that has happened with CoG over the past few years, they are no longer a company I want to write for.

Please know that none of this has discouraged me from writing in general. I still love doing it. If anything, this has taught me a lot about what I actually want to write and the writing process in general. Whether I end up publishing anything else in the future or will simply do so for my own enjoyment we’ll just have to see, though.

I still have the idea of a shadow-like world in my head, and maybe it’s one I will revisit at some point. Maybe there will be another version of TSS someday, albeit very different from the original one.

But for now, I can only thank you all for the overwhelming love and support over the years, and apologize for any disappointment this has caused. If people are interested, I’d be happy to share parts of the rewrite and unused ideas. The Tumblr page will still stay up at least for some time, but I will probably not be answering any asks from here on out.

EDIT: Forgot to add, but if anyone wants a genuinely amazing IF read you should check out my friend's wip here: https://uroboros-if.tumblr.com/ ❤️ Play the demo here: https://mistyriousness.itch.io/uroboros

[arachnixe]

A Better Family

(Part 2 of Night’s Longing - Previous: Den of Depravity)

A man kneels on a stone floor, coughing blood. His face is a battleground of despair versus anger, and he clenches his fists in a futile gesture of resistance.

“If it helps, I’m sorry in my own way. I’d hoped to let you live, but I cannot do that if you will not play your role in this story.” A figure, cloaked in darkness, circles the dying man like a vulture.

“Damn you, Alucard. I should have known it was you. I see now it was always you. The count—” Another coughing fit interrupts him. “I won’t let you get away with this.”

“You are not in much of a position at all to ‘let’ me do anything, Morris.”

“I can still… curse with the best of them. Enough blood here for it, at least.” The man puts a red, dripping hand to his forehead and breathes a prayer. “By the bloodline of the Boltman clan, I curse you. We will wipe your progeny from the world. When you die, it will be at our hands. On my life, I swear it. In the name of my family I do hereby vow. We will be your end, Dracula.“

In a flash of light, the man collapses. Somewhere far away, a child wakes up from a nightmare of his father dying, his face wet with tears.

---

I, on the other hand, wake up with a smile on my face. Get wrecked, old man. If I have to suffer your curse, at least I have the consolation prize of playing dream witness to your embarrassing last moments on your knees again and again. It’s a damn shame, I think, that one of my ancestors apparently was successful at killing Dracula at some point. Wasn’t enough to end the curse on my family, though. I guess we are supposed to kill every last vampire to fulfill the prophecy.

That won’t happen if I have any say in it. I am determined to be the last of my line.

“Wait, she’s awake again already?”

“What did I tell you? This girl is the best.”

I open my eyes, blinking through the haze and trying to reorient myself. It’s still night, and I’m lying across the laps of two beautiful women in a dimly lit booth. I only recognize one of them. “Hey, Vicky. Who’s your friend?”

“Not totally with it yet,” the stranger observes.

“Come on. You met Liz already, remember? My sister.”

“Right, the hot sister.” That rings a bell. I sit upright with Vicky’s aid and position myself comfortably between the two vampires. I’m still feeling a bit dizzy, and my limp neck struggles to prevent my head from lolling to the side. “Gonna have to get some calories and iron in me if you want to go again before morning.”

“Already got a big steak coming your way, Hanna. Extra rare, just how you like it.”

I can’t believe there’s a nightclub in this city that serves steak of all things. This place rules.

“Ooh, she does have good taste. Twice over, even.” Liz rewards my quality opinions with a kiss on the lips and a lustful squeeze of my boob. While she continues occupying my mouth, Vicky runs her hand up my thigh and takes a long, lingering lick from my collarbone to my jaw. The way they treat me like a premium cut of meat makes me shiver in anticipation of what’s to come later tonight.

I’m too distracted to notice when my own meal arrives until the smell reminds my stomach that I’m starving.

“Oops, looks like they thought that was for one of us,” Liz says.

No sides on the plate, just a fat fucking slab of barely seared beef swimming in blood—is that human blood?—in a presentation clearly intended for vampire clientele rather than a living human. This place must be damn fancy by vampire standards. Or maybe it’s just that full moon excess at work.

I’m drooling, too hungry to fret about the details. If Liz thinks a little blood is going to put me off my appetite, I’m happy to prove her wrong. I demolish the whole thing in record time, ripping chunks of flesh apart with my teeth and happily sipping the mixture of blood and beef juices until I clean the plate and give Liz a little wink in response to her shocked expression.

“And here I thought a place like this would have an aversion to stakes.“

Vicky laughs uproariously. It’s a universal truth that no vampire can resist puns about themselves.

“I’ve never been so turned on in my life,” Liz says. “You’re telling me she’s really a—“

Vicky hisses an interruption. “Not here. Don’t yell at me about taking a stupid risk and then turn around and talk about it in public!”

I’ve inferred that if a certain someone in a position of authority were to learn about me being a vampire hunter in their midst, I’d be in real danger. I’m durable, but I’m not invincible, and besides, the last thing I want to do is to have to kill a bunch of vampires who think they’re just protecting themselves.

There must be a way to earn some measure of trust from the clan, show them that I’m not a danger, that I’m not like my hateful family.

“What if I found a way to prove myself?” I ask. “Make some big show of loyalty that can’t be ignored. It’s all well and good for me to repeatedly give myself to a couple of the hottest women I’ve ever met, but I don’t think anyone’s gonna believe that’s an act of altruism, per se.“

Vicky nods, stroking my cheek with affection. “You’re a freak for sure, but that’s not quite enough on its own.”

“You could wipe out one of, uh… your kind’s cells,” Liz suggests. “One that’s been directly a problem for us. That would go a long way.”

My heart skips a beat at the suggestion. Wipe out. She means doing some straight-up murder. There’d be no coming back from that, but that’s the point, isn’t it? That’s what makes it a perfect test of loyalty. If I really want to make a difference, do some real good for the world, and spit on my family’s name in the process, here’s the perfect mission.

I lean back in the booth, turning my body to the side to face her directly. “Do you know of any specific one that would fit the bill?”

“It’s my job to know these things, my dear. Though I want to enjoy your company in full before I send you out on an obvious suicide mission. The cell I’m thinking of is run by a Boltman, which is a name that should strike fear into even your heart.” She squeezes my knee. “Of course, I wouldn’t blame you for changing your mind after hearing that.”

Vicky didn’t tell her, then. Or maybe she didn’t recognize the specific family affiliation identified by my tattoo. Not sure how to bring that up myself, so maybe I won’t just yet. Still, the name doesn’t change anything, really. It only helps me solidify my own feelings. I feel my face settling into an serious expression just shy of a scowl. “Quite the opposite.” My hand clenches into a fist. “I’m eager to take that family down most of all.”

---

There’s a difference between knowing of a hunter cell and knowing where to find it, of course, but I do have some advantages the vampires lack. I’m trained in several different hunter codes, naturally including the Boltman family’s.

Graffiti marks the location of safehouses, with special markings and modifications signaling how recently it was still believed to be uncompromised and whether other hunters are welcome. Some markings warn of nearby vampire dens with an estimated population count and risk level. Others hint at stashes nearby.

I meander the streets until I spot the first such sign: a stash. A false brick in an alleyway conceals some frozen sunlight and a silver chain. Smash one, pocket the other to pawn later, then keep looking. Where there’s one sign, more will be around the area.

The first safehouse I spot is unoccupied. Not too much of a surprise there; we keep plenty of redundant ones in case someone gets followed. Lucky break, though, someone has used it recently, and decoding the log book gives me clues about where to check next.

It takes only a few days to close in on the cell’s current location, and then no time at all to convince the guard to let me in. I know all the right words, and I flash them the tattoo that marks me as one of theirs. They have no reason to doubt me.

“Hey, Carlo!” The woman who lets me in shouts louder than I think reasonable. “This a cousin of yours or something?”

A shirtless man taking swings at the punching bag in another room stops what he’s doing, wipes the sweat off his face with a nearby towel, and approaches the two of us. He looks me up and down for a moment before responding.

“Not one I’ve met before.” He extends a hand. “Carlo Boltman.”

“Hanna.” I shake his hand. “Boltman too, that is.” I lift my shirt to show him my tattoo, a perfect match for his. I’m also dressed for the occasion in my hunter’s garb: strategically armored, belt full of essentials, and with knives and stakes strapped to me in easy to reach places. The leather gorget at my neck bears the seal of Clan Boltman, one repeated on my bracers and embossed on the back of my silver pendant.

“Hanna? Just like…?” Carlo turns and shouts toward another room. “Hey, Uncle Dan, come out here.”

Does everybody here feel the need to shout instead of walking over to—

“Well, well, well, the prodigal daughter returns to the fold. And here I thought you were content to steal from me and fuck off to a life of leisure.”

“Daniel. How good to see you well.” I keep my voice measured and composed, if icy, while addressing my father. I will not show him weakness. “I was unaware you considered it stealing to take the weapons and armor that were crafted for my measurements and with which I had grown accustomed during my training. I mistakenly assumed my father would bless his daughter with the tools she needs to strike out on her own and practice the family trade.”

He laughs. “Well, if you really have taken up the family trade in this godforsaken city, I may be willing to look past your transgressions. Tell me, how many vampires have you successfully hunted so far?”

“Five,” I reply without hesitation. “Two at once just a few days ago, in fact.” The smile of satisfaction I give him is even honest.

“Hmm.” He grunts. “Inadequate, but I do believe that’s within your capabilities. Be glad you didn’t try to lie to me.”

I almost pity Carlo, eyes darting back and forth at the two of us in our chilly confrontation. While it’s clear my father must have mentioned me before, it seems he wasn’t prepared for the truth of our strained relationship.

“I thought Carlo here would be the leader of this outfit, but I know you better than to assume you’d allow anyone else to call the shots when you’re around. So why don’t you tell me what you’re planning so that I can lend you my aid and we can part ways again?”

Daniel smirks. “No, this is my dear nephew’s mission. While I have graciously volunteered some input, I would never undermine the judgment of a fully trained and independent vampire hunter of our clan.”

We glare at each other for several silent seconds before I turn my gaze to my cousin. With a rueful grin, I say to Carlo, “I’m sorry about all this. You don’t deserve to be caught up in this kind of bickering. Would you brief me on what your group has planned?”

Carlo looks back toward my father, who gives a stern nod. “Well, first you need to know that we caught word Clan Sarthe is planning something big. ‘Resurrection of Dracula’ big, in fact.”

“You can’t ‘resurrect’ a vampire.”

My father snorts his disapproval with me. “Dracula is no run-of-the-mill vampire, girl. He’s the damn source of it all! And if you don’t want your job to get a whole lot harder, you won’t rest on your laurels hoping whatever ritual those bloodsuckers are planing is a dud.”

“Right,” Carlo continues. “We don’t want to take any chances. Which is why I called in a real veteran,” he gestures at Daniel, “and why we’re gearing up to hit the main hive.”

Leading me across the room, he unfurls an old-fashioned paper map of the city. That’s certainly my father’s influence; he is convinced all the tech companies are in the pocket of Big Vampire. I recognize a good number of the circled points on the map: several major dens I’m familiar with, including the Carmine. The circle he jabs at, however, is new to me.

“Warehouse district?”

“Right. The entrance is an unmarked building. We believe it leads to a network of tunnels that sprawls… well, we don’t know how far they go, but we’re pretty sure we can expose a lot of vamps to some surprise daylight with strategically placed explosives in the area.”

The plan is vile. The more he describes it, the gladder I become that I’m here to put a stop to this before they hurt any more innocents. I’m not even sure it would work, but a lot of vampires would die either way.

I nod thoughtfully and play my role, offering suggestions as though I intend to let them attempt this cruel scheme. I introduce myself to the other members of the cell, mostly ordinary people rather than true hunters. I don’t bother learning their names. The more time I spend around people like this, the more my own humanity disgusts me, the more apart I feel from all of them.

These people are not my real family. I know where I belong.

At night, most everyone falls asleep. The one exception, aside from me, is the guy keeping watch, just starting his night shift. The man doesn’t watch his back at all, and I quietly slip behind him and slit his throat.

It’s a nice safehouse, with enough rooms for everyone to have their own place to sleep even with six of us here. Better still, the walls are thick enough to muffle any brief struggle someone might offer, but I won’t need to rely on that as long as I hit them quickly and effectively. Fortunately, I am well trained in where and how to stab someone to prevent them from raising an alert.

Inside the first bedroom is the sweet girl who let me in. She sleeps on her back. I crush her windpipe, and in the same fluid motion I stab her through the heart. Her blood soaks the sheets without so much as a squeak of distress.

The second bedroom is where things go wrong. Carlo is awake, with someone going down on him. He’s too distracted to notice my entrance right away, but I don’t get far before he starts to yell.

My knife sails in a graceful arc from my hand into his eye socket. I dive forward, drawing another to stab through the sheets into the back of the nobody fellating my cousin. Carlo scrambles, losing blood, clearly in a panic, and I drive my second knife up through his diaphragm. Soon he too collapses.

That shout. There’s no way it didn’t wake Daniel up. After weighing my options, I choose to dash from the room yelling, “we’ve got company!”

Perhaps my father really is a sentimental old fool to the end. He bursts from his own room, armed with the famous family blade, and as I watch him scan the hallways holding that sword of his aloft, he shows no suspicion whatsoever toward me.

“How many, Hanna?”

“Two, I think. No idea how they got in.”

He swears under his breath, moving past me to peek into Carlo’s room, trusting me to watch his back. “Shit, Hanna. At least I’ve got you here. I never told you this, but—“

It’s all the opportunity I need to drive my dagger into his neck. I lever it back and forth to really shred his carotid artery and send his blood spraying like a fountain. Fuck that feels good. Oh, that really feels good.

On an impulse, I lean forward and catch the spray of blood in my mouth. It’s not like I draw strength from it like a proper vampire, but I’ve learned to love that salty, metallic flavor in my own way, and today it tastes like my freedom from this damn family of mine.

“Fuck you, dad.” I smear crimson victory across my face and laugh with sheer, manic joy. “I’d tell you to go to hell, but you always said that’s where all vampires go when they die for good.” I slice deeper, all but severing his head, then follow up by stabbing him again and again in each vital organ. Can never be too sure with a vampire hunter. “I’m sure, whenever I end up dying, that’s where I’m going too. And I’d rather not have you around while I’m spending my afterlife with everyone I ever loved.” I spit on his body. “If hell is my fate, then you can go to heaven or go to oblivion, but wherever the fuck you end up, go there without me.”

I grab my phone and text my family to let them know that there are some rapidly cooling bodies for them to enjoy if they’re feeling peckish. Also, I’ll appreciate their help taking some photos and videos to document my beautiful sins.

[annoyinglandmagazine]

If I Were Not Myself Would This Be Easier

My entry for @halfelvenweek featuring Celebrian grappling with the daunting lack of knowledge there is about peredhel and Elrond being reminded of his own years spent trying to figure out his identity.

C/W: Brief mention of periods if you’re particularly sensitive to that.

Elrond sectioned one pile of archivist notes into three more separate piles with a sure certainty that he would not remember the criteria by which he’d done it by the end ‘that was if they were in anyway separate by then,’ he thought as the soft midsummers breeze lifted a page and the entirety of the makeshift library was jostled as he shifted his legs under the sheets to catch it. This certainty was solidified as he found himself intrigued by a transcript of a debate that was civil only in the lack of profane vocabulary on the matter of the Quenya Ban and on where to categorise it. A new pile it was.

He knew logically that the very depth of the night was far from the best time to be doing this, at this time of year he should not have to wait far longer for better light than that of the lamps in their bedchamber, and a desk would be a more ideal work environment but nonetheless he found his productivity improved greatly when it was least convenient to be brimming with a thirst for knowledge.

He was so engrossed and enthusiastic that he did not notice the return of his wife through the swaying curtains until the mattress dipped beside him as she collapsed face first onto the sheets as if intending to sleep right then while still in her dressing gown and slippers.

He carefully slipped the papers from beneath her and set them on the floor before they were creased too severely and she stretched her arms up and shifted to rest up against the pillows with long yawn, ‘Elrond?’

‘Hmm? Yes, dear?’

She barely restrained a snicker as she rolled to watch him affectionately ‘What exactly are you doing?’

He looked down at the papers in front of him and started to tidy them off the bed ‘Well you were gone so I thought I’d read while I waited for you but then I noticed the book wasn’t compiled correctly, someone had put the Nirnaeth Arnoediad before everything about Gondolin Celebrian, which makes no sense so I started reordering things and-’

He cut off awkwardly and turned to face his wife once he remembered the reason for her absence and that no matter how patient she was with his sleeping habits this was probably not a time she wanted to be hearing about his archiving.

‘Oh, is Arwen alright? She’s not upset is she, I swear if one of the boys said something to her-’

Celebrian settled into the crook of his arm and kissed his neck soothingly before replying.

‘There’s no need to worry to yourself Arwen is perfectly alright. But, well,’ she scrunched her face up in contemplation as if not entirely sure of the truth of her words.

‘But there is something. What troubles you?’

‘Well she seems in good health, she- she started her bleed,’ she whispered that last bit with surprising distress for an elleth who had never shown much reservation in such simple matters.

‘I’m not sure I follow the problem?’

‘She’s not yet thirty Elrond! There should have been another decade before we had to worry about this, even accounting for her perdhel blood!’

‘Celebrian, I’ve said it’s not an exact science with these things, there’s no way to really anticipate….. anything really,’ he spoke haltingly, the nature of his own blood and his children’s by extension was always a complex topic and deserved to be considered with care.

She clenched her eyes tightly together in the way he knew indicated tears welling up behind them and that her unease was not a sudden thing but something that had been building.

‘I know that. I do and I try to get used to it but, oh Elrond they’re my children and I feel as if I know nothing at all about them! I have no understanding of so many things they go through, when I was trying to reassure Arwen she kept talking of symptoms I’ve never even heard of before and I told her it was all perfectly normal because she seemed alright but I don’t know.’

She lowered her voice to a soft earnest whisper, ‘I sometimes feel that you could do this better yourself. You just understand all of this in a way that I never can, it seems as if anything could happen with them and it’s terrifying!’

Her concerns brought to mind memories he knew his wife would not enjoy a comparison to, of the battle hardened kinslayer, with the voice of silk and raw power both, fervently conversing with his brother over the latest incident that left him feeling so thoroughly out of his depth both as a caretaker in general but especially one to two who were the only of their kind as a direct result of his actions. 

‘Don’t say things like that my love, you are an excellent mother and the children love you so very much, as do I, you do not need to understand everything to make them feel safe and loved, which is the important thing and you do it so well,’ he definitely wasn’t thinking of how said kinslayer had held him to his chest on sleepless nights and gently teased knots out of his hair while two who may not have been as out of depths in regard to the nature of half elves were certainly too so in other ways to do so. Neither blood, nor good character make a good parent in all cases and one with arguably neither may be one in others. Celebrian was a good mother, there was no question about that and it would not do for her to think otherwise.

‘It’s terrifying for me as well. I know I may come across as if I know these things but I have scarcely more idea than you a lot of the time. They are the only children of that exact genetic combination of elvish, edain and Maia blood that ever has or ever will exist and while that’s a daunting a prospect and not in the slightest simple for us or them there’s a beauty in it all the same. They will discover and shape themselves in a way none ever will again, each in their own way.’

He knew the fear that she speaks of, how could he not when it is one he felt his whole life, not for his child but for himself? Waking up in the morning and not knowing what may happen to him, if his skin should turn to fire or ice, if plants should grow at his feet or the rocks should crack at his voice, with none he spoke to having anymore idea. He hit adolescence at fifteen and in a peculiarly staggered manner, Elros in an entirely different pattern as well.

He still doesn’t know when he was an adult and no one around him did either. Following logic he supposed it should have been in and around his fifties but whether that was true or not he’ll never know, he reckons it came a lot earlier and could convince enough people of that to let him bear arms at twenty three. Whether Elrond was in all truth still a child- it’s hard to be entirely sure. A childhood such as his would make it hard to tell.

What he did know was that callouses formed over his fingertips while he weaved sweet clear music to bend starlight, rivers and flame with naught but a harp. He knew that many didn’t know what to make of him or the seemingly endless contradictions. He’d had more than one conversation in which he’d been oh so politely asked to ‘tune it down’ a bit, that he was unnerving people and if he looked and sounded enough like an elf and chose to be one why did he have to keep complicating matters for himself. He supposed it would have been ‘easier’ if he were in elf but the fact remained that he wasn’t, and he had no illusions that when they asked why he kept complicating matters for himself what they meant was complicating matters for them. How could it be confuse him to be what he was?

He supposed that vein of questioning may not have frustrated him so if it hadn’t been exactly what he’d heard over countless other things, his gender, his inclinations, his parentage and loyalties. They did not truly want to help him they wanted to be able to know which little box they should put him, if they should condemn him, pity him or embrace him as their own but this was a very difficult distinction to make when he insisted on being both their’s and their enemy’s kin and did not have the decency to pick one. When he did make the Choice many people were confused as to why he kept making a point out of being a Perdhel because he ‘was an elf now’ as if that was what the Choice had been about.

They did not actually wish to understand, they wished for things to be simple so he made a point of continuing to challenge them as much as possible. He strode about Lindon in swaying elvish gowns holding piles of books and scrolls, gathered herbs in the folds of an edainic skirt and apron, sparred with all the Feanorian techniques in a Beorian tunic, sung the work of Maglor in the unmistakable sweet tone of Luthien Tinuviel, flirted shamelessly with whoever caught his eye and laughed among the tips of trees with his floor length dark hair streaming behind him arrayed in robes of Nolofinwean blue. He outraged all with every manner of braid and insignia and above all refused to comprise on any facet of himself to assist any other’s comfort with his existence. 

The place in the world for him and his children did not exist but they would make one. The way he had created one at Gil Galad’s side and again in Imladris. The way Elros had among the Numenoreans, his parents had with each other all the way back to Luthien defying the laws of death itself to create what had previously been impossible. They would make one and it would be glorious.

[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 Cops & Robbers 🔞

Chapter 8

Tags: Smut, mentions of torture, murder, & prostitution, significant age difference (roughly 20 yrs) between Eric & Felix

A/N: Here’s the much anticipated Eric / Felix crossover! Also I gave y’all a hint about The Mad King in one of the JFW posts. Think you can find it? 😈

“Felix what the fuck?” Eric stormed into the office and slammed the door behind him.

“Good morning to you, too,” the blond looked up at him.

“You tortured Younghoon and killed Chanhee? Are you nuts?” He demanded.

“Technically Jisung and Changbin killed Chanhee,” Felix replied. “But you are correct that I was party to torturing the cop.”

“Juyeon’s got Changbin locked in his basement right now and he won’t let him leave there in one piece,” Eric told him. “If he finds out that you ordered it then you’ll be dead before you hit the ground.”

“What makes you think I ordered it and I wasn’t carrying out someone else’s request?” Felix leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms.

“Since when do you take orders from anyone?” Eric asked.

“Was that a rhetorical question or do you want the actual answer?” The other man questioned.

“Don’t lie to me,” Eric glared.

“You have no idea who runs this city. Juyeon might think he’s in charge, but he’s not. There’s a layer to this that none of you realize. You think we popped up out of nowhere? We started making ourselves known because we were told to. You’ve known me long enough to know that,” Felix replied.

“That’s not an answer,” the younger man snapped.

“Sit down and I’ll tell you what I know. However, you’ll put a target on your own back in the process,” Felix told him. Eric sat and stared at the blond.

“Jisung got himself killed because he fucked up. Changbin is in Juyeon’s basement because he fucked up. I’m walking around freely and breathing because I can follow simple instructions. They were told to leave both of them alive and ignored a direct order. However, by killing Chanhee they gave us leverage against Younghoon. A person is far more inclined to talk when they’ve got a dead body in the room. I suspected he didn’t know anything, but since I like my head still attached to my neck, I did what I was told. We let him go and he went straight to Juyeon like we thought he would. Though I have to say I didn’t anticipate Juyeon being as loyal to Younghoon as he is,” Felix told him.

“Who the hell is ‘we’? You got a mouse in your pocket?” Eric demanded.

“Have they told you about The Mad King yet?” Felix leaned forward.

“He’s a story,” Eric replied.

“He’s very real and very powerful. He’s only seen when he wants to be seen,” the other man said.

“If he’s real, he has to be old,” Eric was skeptical.

“I don’t know his exact age, but he’s definitely in his 50s. If you make it to that age living the life we live, you’re either very lucky or very good. He’s very, very good,” Felix shrugged.

“Let’s say I believe that he’s real. Why?” Eric asked.

“What do you mean why?” Felix repeated.

“Why are you working for him? How did you meet him? What the hell is going on here?” Eric expounded.

“He approached me several years ago. I thought the same thing you did. It was a bunch of bullshit and he was some old guy cosplaying as a story that’s been around since most of us were toddlers. I wasn’t going to agree to work for him until he proved that he was who he said he was. I know you weren’t working for Juyeon at the time, but he was able to disrupt his business like I’d never seen before. He was able to evade Sunwoo’s searches for days, if not weeks. Juyeon only calls Sunwoo when his normal methods don’t work. I thought Sunwoo was unbeatable, but he proved me wrong. It was in my best interest as a small fish in a big pond to accept his offer. Once he decided he could trust us is when he started causing trouble for Juyeon again. You ended up in jail because that’s where he wanted you,” Felix explained.

“So why kidnap Younghoon and Chanhee?” Eric asked.

“That I don’t know. All I know is he wanted us to kidnap them and figure out what they knew through any means necessary. As I said, he only knows what he wants you to know and only sees what he wants you to see,” the blond answered.

“I should tell Juyeon all of this,” Eric said.

“And if you do then you’re not only risking your life, but their lives. Let him do what he wants to Changbin and keep your head down,” Felix advised.

“And if he asks?” The younger man continued.

“It’s up to you whether or not you tell him,” he replied.

“Are you really going to let him kill Changbin?” Eric asked.

“I doubt he will, but if he does then that’s on him,” Felix cocked his head.

“You really don’t give a shit about anyone, do you?” Eric scoffed.

“I give a shit about you. If I didn’t then we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You wouldn’t have even gotten through the door,” Felix told him.

“Would you save me if The Mad King tried to kill me?” Felix was silent. “That’s all I needed to know.”

Eric got up to leave and Felix reached out to grab his wrist.

“Let go,” he tried to jerk his arm away, but the other man only tightened his grip as he moved around the desk.

“I’ll protect you until I can’t,” he said.

“Yeah, sure,” Eric snorted.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Eric,” Felix pulled him closer and kissed him. Eric returned the kiss. Felix let go of Eric’s wrist, putting his hands on the younger man’s face. “You’re such a fucking idiot sometimes.”

“If I’m such an idiot why are you kissing me?” Eric breathed, pushing Felix into the chair and climbing into his lap.

“Because I’m an idiot,” Felix retorted. Eric ground his ass against Felix’s cock, eliciting a moan from the older man.

“You like that? When Juyeon’s pretty little errand boy makes you hard?” Eric’s lips brushed against Felix’s ear. His grip tightened on Eric’s waist.

“I like when Juyeon’s little errand boy does what he’s told,” Felix turned his head to look at Eric. His eyes were almost black with desire. It was how Eric liked him best - horny, angry, and completely his.

“What makes you think I’ll listen?” he asked, leaning back to unbutton Felix’s shirt.

“Because you want my dick,” the older man replied as he pulled Eric’s shirt over his head.

“And you want me on your cock so I guess we agree on that,” Eric smirked. He pinched one of Felix’s nipples hard causing his hips to buck.

“Goddammit Eric,” he huffed.

“Tell me how much you want me,” the younger man said.

“And if I don’t?” Felix weaved his fingers in Eric’s hair.

“I’ll leave,” he shrugged. Felix yanked his hair, snapping Eric’s head back so his throat was completely exposed.

“No, you won’t,” he bit down where Eric’s neck curved into his shoulder. Eric grunted, unable to scream because of the angle of his neck.

“Say it,” he gasped.

“Say what? You’re my vice? My competition’s pretty little errand boy is my forbidden pleasure? That I think of you when I’m fucking someone else?” Felix replied, releasing Eric’s hair. The two men watched each other for a moment - half clothed, hair askew, lips swollen - taking in Felix’s admission.

“You…think about me when you’re with someone else?” Eric swallowed hard.

“Ever since that first night,” Felix confirmed.

“That’s almost 3 years,” Eric said.

“Two years, ten months, and five days if you want to be specific,” the older man smirked.

“How much?” the younger man asked.

“I have to keep up appearances, but a lot less than I used to,” Eric didn’t like that Felix was being intentionally vague. “They’re both professionals before you assume I just stick my dick anywhere.”

“You think about me when you’re with a hooker?” Eric questioned.

“I think about you more than I care to admit,” Felix purposely dodged the question. Eric hated when he did that.

“I think about you a lot too,” Eric agreed. For the first time since Eric stormed in, Felix smiled a genuine smile. “I know I shouldn’t be here.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Felix confirmed.

“And I shouldn’t be doing this,” Eric kissed him.

“No, you shouldn’t,” the older man breathed. “I shouldn’t want to fuck you so good that I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Eric ran his hands down Felix’s chest, tracing the outlines of his abs.

“Yet here we are,” Felix stated.

“Ruin me,” the words spilled out before Eric could stop them. Felix’s eyes darkened, if that was even possible, and smirked.

“Gladly,” he replied. “Up.”

Eric stood up, pulling Felix up with him.

“Take off your pants,” Felix breathed against Eric’s mouth as he kissed him again.

“Why don’t you do it yourself?” Eric nipped at Felix’s lower lip. The other man reached down between them, unbuttoning and unzipping Eric’s jeans. He pushed his underwear down, releasing Eric’s cock.

“Hard already for me I see,” he purred, stroking the younger man’s dick.

“Like you aren’t,” Eric squeezed Felix through his pants.

“The better to fuck you with, my dear,” the older man smirked. He nodded Eric over to the couch on the far side of the room. Eric kicked off his jeans and underwear as Felix fetched a bottle of lube from his desk.

“Has anyone figured out you keep that in there?” Eric asked.

“No one’s allowed in here without an invitation,” Felix replied as he removed the rest of his clothes.

“I came in without an invitation,” Eric pointed out.

“And look where that got you,” Felix pinned Eric’s hip against the couch, starting to work him open.

“You say that like I don’t want to be in this position,” the younger man wiggled his hips trying to get more of Felix’s fingers inside him.

“Why are you always so impatient?” Felix teased. He brushed against Eric’s prostate, eliciting a loud moan.

“Just my nature I guess,” Eric replied.

“Maybe I need to teach you some patience at some point,” Felix was four fingers deep in him, teasing his most sensitive spots every few strokes. Eric arched his back and whined. “But I like you like this too much. Needy, whiny, and wet.”

“I’m not -,” Eric protested. Felix pressed his finger in the slit and Eric’s cock oozed precome. “Okay, fine.”

“Of course I’m right,” Felix grinned. He withdrew his fingers, watching as Eric’s hole fluttered around nothing. “So pretty like this.”

“Hurry up,” the younger man grunted.

“I spoil you,” Felix kissed him as he finished stripping and lubed up his cock.

“I thought you were going to ruin me?” Eric looked up at him.

“Ruining you and spoiling you aren’t mutually exclusive,” Felix told him as he pushed into Eric. Eric reached over his head and held on to the arm of the couch. Felix planted one foot on the floor and began fucking into the younger man. “You’re mine.”

“Yours,” Eric whimpered.

“Will you say my name? When you’re being fucked by someone else? Will you think of me when someone else has their dick in you?” He taunted.

“No, only you. I belong to you,” Felix Lee was the last person Eric should be promising himself to. His duties as the courier allowed him to come and go with almost no supervision. No one would question why he was gone for protracted periods. No one questioned his loyalty either. He worked for Juyeon, but Felix owned him. The older man owned every part of him. Eric hated that about himself.

“Stop thinking,” Felix ordered. Eric snapped his attention back to the present.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t apologize, just focus on me,” Felix snapped his hips faster, creating an obscene slapping sound when they met Eric’s ass.

“Can they…” Eric began.

“No one can hear us right now,” Felix replied. “Why don’t you make some noise?”

He reached down and grabbed Eric’s cock, pressing hard against the slit. Eric grunted and tightened his grip on the couch.

“Louder,” the older man told him.

“Felix, please,” Eric moaned.

“Please what?” He looked down at the younger man.

“Please let me come,” he whined.

“What did I say? Needy, whiny, and wet,” Felix stopped the motion of his hips and swirled the precome around the tip of Eric’s cock. Eric was almost in tears as Felix played with him. With a well timed thrust, Felix sent Eric over the edge. He smiled as Eric thrashed and arched under him.

“Felix,” Eric reached up to touch the other man’s face when he finished.

“I know,” he replied, fucking into Eric as hard as the position would allow. He painted Eric’s insides white, emptying everything he had into his body. Felix fell on top of Eric when he finished. “Ruined?”

“Ruined,” Eric confirmed. They rested like that for a few minutes.

“I’m getting sticky,” Felix observed. He got up and wiped them both off. Come leaked out of Eric’s ass onto his thighs and the couch. “Guess I’ll need to get that cleaned.”

“You mean you don’t want your come all over the couch?” Eric teased as he got dressed.

“Not at the moment, no,” Felix replied. Then there was a loud knock on the door. Felix and Eric looked at each other.

“Under the desk,” Felix instructed. Eric nodded and practically dove under it.

“Come in,” Felix called as he sat back down.

“Mr Lee,” Eric thought he recognized the voice.

“Felix, please. You’re the cops?” Felix replied. Eric remembered hearing Younghoon and Juyeon talking about other cops.

“Yes, I’m Jeong Yunho and this is Choi Jongho,” he introduced.

“Have a seat,” Felix shifted in the chair. Eric pressed his back against the side of the desk and willed himself to stop sweating. Felix adjusted his legs, spreading them so Eric could see him getting hard again. A meeting with a pair of dirty cops couldn’t be making him horny again.

“I apologize for making you wait. I had an earlier appointment that went longer than expected,” Eric heard Felix above him.

Yeah, impromptu dick appointment, Eric thought.

“That’s fine. I know you’ve got two of your men missing,” it was a different voice this time.

“Is that why you’re here?” Felix asked. He adjusted his legs again, spreading them even wider. Eric reached up and carefully undid his belt and unzipped his pants. Did zippers always sound this loud? He bit his lip to stay quiet and managed to push Felix’s underwear down far enough to release his cock.

“I don’t suppose you know anything about that,” Felix said, his voice not betraying what was going on under the desk. Eric got on his knees and took the tip of Felix’s dick in his mouth. He’d never actually had Felix’s cock in his mouth before. He tasted better than Eric imagined. He wasn’t sure what exactly he’d imagined, but he was going to have a very hard time not sucking him off like it was his last dying act.

“We got a report of a body that might fit the description of one of them,” Yuhno said. Felix reached down and put his hand on the back of Eric’s head urging him to go further. Just as casually, Felix brought his hand back up knowing he’d given Eric the direction he needed.

“I heard the same thing, however I haven’t been able to confirm anything. Were you?” he replied. Eric steadied himself on Felix’s knees then swallowed him down completely. Felix didn’t react which under any other circumstance would have been insulting. Eric was determined to get him to react. He hollowed out his cheeks and began sucking on cock before pulling back to roll the tip around in his mouth. Felix shifted, but nothing that would be seen as unusual.

“We’ve been supervising a river search for the past few days, but we’re going to the morgue later today,” Jongho told him. Eric swallowed Felix down again and this time pressed his finger against Felix’s taint. His cock twitched in Eric’s mouth.

Perfect.

Eric pressed harder as he focused on the spot below the head. Felix’s thighs clenched under his grip. Eric tried to get his finger back to Felix’s hole, but couldn’t quite reach it with the way Felix was sitting. Sensing Eric’s frustration, Felix shifted again to allow Eric to press the pad of his finger against his entrance. Precome pooled in Eric’s mouth. He pushed the very tip of his finger into Felix’s hole. His thighs tensed again and his cock jerked in Eric’s mouth. Felix brushed his hand over the top of Eric’s head.

“A river search?” He repeated.

“For one of the missing police employees,” Yunho added.

“Did you find anything?” Felix asked. By this point, Eric was rutting his own hips against nothing as he pushed Felix toward his orgasm. With one final push of the first knuckle into Felix’s body, he came down Eric’s throat. Eric forced himself not to gag as come kept pouring into his mouth. He swallowed it until Felix finally finished and gently pushed Eric’s head onto his thigh. Eric tucked him back in and opened his own pants. He began fisting his own cock desperately.

“We did. We found Choi Chanhee,” Jongho told him.

“And Kim Younghoon?” Felix asked. Eric was biting his lip so hard he thought he might bleed. He desperately needed to come.

“We have reason to believe he’s still alive,” Yunho replied. Finally, Eric felt his balls start to tighten. He bit down hard on Felix’s thigh as he came all over the floor and his hand. Felix didn’t so much as twitch when Eric’s teeth sunk into his leg.

“I assume our mutual employer is aware of that?” Felix said.

“He is,” Jongho replied.

“Excellent. Anything else?” He asked.

“No,” they replied.

“Thank you for coming to visit personally. I appreciate it,” Felix told them. The silence went on a little too long.

“Right, yes, we’ll let you know when we find something,” Jongho said. Eric heard them get up and the door close. Felix rolled back the chair to look down at Eric.

“You are a menace,” he said.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy me sucking you off while you’re trying to hold a conversation,” Eric grinned up at him.

“Touché,” Felix sighed. “I meant what I said earlier. I’ll protect you until I can’t anymore,” Felix stroked Eric’s cheek with his thumb.

“How long is that?” Eric asked.

“As long as I’m alive,” Felix replied. Eric had definitely not expected that answer.

“Thank you,” Eric rested his head on Felix’s knee.

“Always,” the older man replied.

[bbutterflies]

Adrino week day 2 - Cooking

Pasta-tively perfect - read it on ao3 or below!

Adrien thought he’d planned this all out.

It’d seemed simple enough in his head. He got Alya involved to make plans with Nino and cancel last minute to make sure Nino was free. Adrien had researched a recipe that he thought was straightforward, bought the food, and now he was standing in his kitchen. He had flowers and candles.

He just… didn’t realize how hard it was to cook.

He could handle simple things – he’d cooked pasta and made eggs and things like that – but apparently this recipe was harder than he’d anticipated.

He had had the foresight to buy extra food and start early, which was good, because he was currently staring at what was supposed to be alfredo sauce. It was definitely not a sauce. It was almost solid, somehow, which… well, he knew that wasn’t right and it definitely wasn’t edible. And Nino deserved more than just edible – he deserved his food to be good.

Adrien was in way over his head. He knew he needed help. The only problem was he only knew one person who was good at cooking.

He couldn’t just ask Nino for help. How awful to get Nino to help for his own dinner? But… maybe Adrien could call for some advice, and then it would still be a surprise and a funny story to tell.

So he picked up the phone, confident he could just ask for help and still pull his plan together.

“Hey, Dri,” Nino said when he answeredd. “What’s up?”

“I need some cooking advice.” Adrien stared at the pan of his failed sauce and tried to figure out how to describe it. “I was making alfredo.”

“Yum. How’s it going?”

“It’s… not,” Adrien admitted. “It’s almost solid. Which doesn’t seem right.”

Nino snorted. “No way. How’d you pull that off?”

“I wish I knew. I was gonna try again, but don’t want to mess it up.”

“How much flour did you put in the roux?”

“Um. What?”

Nino laughed over the phone. “Oh, man. You should’ve asked me for help. What’s this for?”

“I’m… surprising someone,” Adrien said. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s no big. I was supposed to hang out with Alya but she’s sick so I’m just sitting at home anyway.”

“No, it’s okay. But any tips for my second attempt?”

“Measure your ingredients for sure. Don’t cook the flour too long or it’ll taste awful. I’d try to tell you how not to do whatever you did again, but honestly, I’m at a loss.”

A timer went off – the oven, because Adrien had foolishly thought he could handle two things at once. He pulled the tray out and sighed. “Oh. Well, actually… I have another question.” Adrien stared at the tray. When he’d put it into the oven, it’d been two chicken breasts. Now? He couldn’t really say they were anything other than completely burnt. “I burned the chicken, too.”

“What were you trying to do?”

“Bake it.”

“And it’s burned? Like, way burned?”

“Yes?”

“You never stop impressing me. Okay, I’m coming over.”

“No!” Adrien said quickly. “You don’t have to.”

“And let you burn down your apartment? No way. I seriously don’t mind, man. You know I like to cook. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Nino, you really don’t have to.”

“Too late. I’m on my way.”

The line went dead.

Ideally, Adrien would like to have dinner ready when Nino got here. Given he had nothing but failed attempts in front of him… he was going to have to accept the help.

“Oh my god.” Nino poked at the semi-solid alfredo with a spoon. “This is, like, jello?”

“I know,” Adrien whined.

“Just… how?”

“I don’t know. I swear I was following the recipe.”

“Genuinely, I’m impressed, but this can’t be safe for anyone to eat.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely trash,” Adrien said.

Nino picked up the pan to toss the abomination in the garbage. “Man, I’m glad I came over just to see this before it’s gone. I’d never have believed you. But let’s just start over.”

“What can I help with?”

Nino smiled. “You can bring me ingredients. And maybe do some measuring.”

Yeah, that was fair.

In reality, Nino ended up doing most of the work. And Adrien felt awful but he didn’t know how to explain without ruining the big reveal he’d had planned so he let it go on. He set up his dining table instead, complete with candles and a carefully crafted floral centerpiece.

Nino even plated the food, and it was incredible.

“So, who’s the lucky girl you made this for?” Nino asked as he set the plates down.

“What?” Adrien asked.

Nino gestured at the table. ��You said you were surprising someone. I mean, it’s a pretty romantic set up.”

“It’s… not a girl,” Adrien said.

“Oh.” Nino smiled. “Sorry. The guy, then, or whoever. When are they getting here? I don’t want to intrude.”

“He’s already here.”

“He…” Nino glanced behind him and then turned back to Adrien with a gasp. “Me?”

“Yeah, dummy,” Adrien teased. “It’s you.”

“Oh,” Nino breathed. “Really?”

Adrien nodded. “I really wanted to surprise you. But then it… wasn’t going well, and you’re the only person I know who knows how to cook and I wanted it to turn out good for you.”

Nino smiled, clearly holding back a laugh. “You- Dri, you’re hilarious.”

Adrien felt his face getting warm. “I’m serious,” he said.

“No, no! I’m sorry,” Nino said. “I- I’m flattered. I just can’t believe I cooked my own surprise dinner.”

“You’re the only person I know who knows how to cook,” Adrien repeated tentatively. If Nino turned him down now… Adrien would never be able to live with himself.

“Well,” Nino said, pulling out a chair and gesturing to it. “We better enjoy it before it gets cold, huh?”

Adrien sat, giddy.

Somehow, it’d actually worked. Nino sat across from him, wearing his own perfect smile. “For our next date, I’ll take care of the food.”

“Or I can take you out?” Adrien suggested, feeling bold.

Nino smiled, warm and inviting. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

[technically-ghostly-collection]

I said I’d be writing a Miguel O’Hara fan fiction. This is my first time actually posting a fan fic. It’s a slow burn, a brief summary is you’re a journalist in Nueva York. And your saved by the one and only Spiderman 2099.

If this does well I’ll post part two, I’ve already finished writing this fan fic in Google Docs and it does get smutty so I’ll be sure to disclose that if, again, this does well.

Part one | Part two | Part three

TW: Action Sequence, Violent Crime, Weapons, and Retaliation

Word count: 1,371

————————————————————————

When you published that article against Alcamex and their unethical working conditions and practices you didn’t expect that you’d get your ass handed to you for it. Or that you’d meet the one and only spiderman because of it. Fidgeting and squirming in your seat as your publisher agonizes over your article. You watch their eyes skimming over the screen. “So… what’s the verdict?” you ask anxiously.

“Well I think it’s fantastic, well written, academic. This is probably the best thing you’ve written yet” they look up over their glasses at you. “However, I hope you’re ready for the repercussions that will come from this. This will put a target on your back and you need to be prepared for that.”

You laugh a bit, sweat starting to make your collar damp. “I think I’ll be fine, what are they gonna do? Threaten me? Sue me? I’m the best journalist in Nueva York. There would be too much media coverage if they did anything to me.”

“Can you be sure of that?”

Weeks later and those words are still echoing in your mind as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering if it really was worth it in the end. As predicted those death threats came through but surprisingly there hasn’t been any legal action taken against you. The worst part is that’s what you’re most anxious about, ‘why hasn’t mr. Stone taken action yet’ you think to yourself.

Eventually after rolling your anxieties through your mind a few more times you slip into a restless sleep. Tossing and turning for a few hours before you hear something on the fire escape, eyes flying open the sudden noise shocking your system. At first you think it’s nothing, your downstairs neighbor uses the fire escape more often then you’d like but in an apartment complex can you really have peace? You try to roll over and go back to sleep when the sound of your window creaking open makes you sit up. Your heart rate rises and you can feel your breath quicken, you wait a few moments before hearing the window slide back in place.

‘Oh god I’m gonna die’ you think to yourself. In a panic you reach for the bat you keep beside your bed and slip a sock on the thicker end in case the intruder catches it. You slowly creep towards your door frame and tuck away in your closet, trying to take deep breaths to calm your heart. ‘Please just be a really smart racoon or possum or something’.

Your breath hitches as the door starts to slowly creaking open, eyes widening as you see a masked person creep in holding a gun. You swallow hard and wait for them to be fully in the room before jumping out and swinging at the intruder's head. Luckily for you, your sock trick has been successful, you don’t have enough time to figure out how they turned and caught the bat so quickly before you take another swing at their chest this time. You land a nice wack to their right side and watch the gun drop, kicking it across the room. You drop the bat before jumping onto the intruder as they scramble for the gun despite their new injury.

What you didn’t anticipate is that the intruder would have a friend come along with them, you feel hands grab your sides and gasp as you’re pried off your original target and tossed to the ground. You scramble to your feet and manage to dodge a punch before intruder number two lands a punch to your ribs. You gasp and grit your teeth, swinging at their head before hearing a gunshot ring out and feeling the skin on your side rip. You scream out and hold your side, luckily it just side swiped you, the adrenaline is keeping you going as you rush to the kitchen to get a knife or some other weapon. You dive behind the counter as more gunshots ring out, you can hear the wood slipping as the bullets claw through the island counter.

You wait for the gunshots to cease before grabbing the knife block, quickly ducking again and grabbing the giant chef's knife. ‘I’m so glad I sharpened these’ you think to yourself, trying to peek through the bullet holes at your attackers. You feel one of the aspiring murders grab your hair before you see them, scream out as they drag you around the counter and toss you across the room. You try to reorient yourself and get a grasp of your surroundings, the room is pitch black and all you can do is hold the knife close to your body, ready to be used.

“Who the fuck are you?! What do you want from me?!” you yell out, your eyes finally start to adjust and you see one of your attackers start to charge you. You slash the knife wildly and manage to catch their chest, you hear them scream out before they slap the knife out of your hand. You try to dive for it but the intruder grabs your arm and drags you back. “Get the fuck away from me! Get off me!”

In a panic you pull against the intruder and manage to bite his hand, your mouth filling with a metallic taste as he yells out again and punches you right in the nose. You’re instantly crying from the impact, hearing a sickening crack as your nose starts to spill blood down your face. Before you can think, you feel a gun press to your forehead and you start shaking.

Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was accepting your fate but you find yourself glaring up at your attackers, giving them a challenging look.

“Fucking shoot you coward” you grit out.

You close your eyes, anticipating the bullet to crash through you before hearing one of the intruders shout and the gun being removed from your forehead. Your eyes shoot open and you can see the man’s hand wrapped in glowing red rope, the glass from the window scattered across the floor as a man climbs through. All you can do is watch as the new contender kicks the original intruder and starts wrapping them in the ropes.

You feel pain enveloping your head again and scream out as the second intruder grabs your hair and pulls you up, getting you in a choke hold and holding you to his chest.

“Don’t come a step closer spiderman! Or I’ll kill the snake!” he shouts as he flexes his arm, making you gag and gasp for air.

There’s no fucking way spiderman is in your living room right now, then again, you hardly expected to be held hostage by an unknown intruder. You try to pull his arm away from your throat, refusing to give up and try to bite his arm before he covers your mouth with a gloved hand. You can feel his fingertips dig into your face and start crying more as his thumb presses against your freshly broken nose.

You watch spiderman pause, assessing the situation. You start to feel light headed as the oxygen is drained out of your lungs, clawing desperately at the intruder’s arm before feeling him suddenly release his grip on you. Gasping for air you fall to the ground and cough, swallowing as much oxygen as possible, at this point you could care less about the intruders, you’re just happy you’re alive.

You hear a scream ring out behind you and a body drop, you scramble away from the noise and turn around and watch spiderman wiping some blood off his lips, your former attacker laying at his feet and deathly still. He quickly pulls his mask back down as if you could see his features through the darkness before dragging the intruders to the window.

“T-thank you” you cough out, your throat and lungs now sore from the lack of air. The spider-man nods, not even saying a word before he grabs the two intruders and tosses them onto the fire escape. He turns back to look at you one last time before climbing out and dragging the intruders off with him.

[bleachbleachbleach]

8/12 - 8/18/2024

I wrote a version of Renji 11 what is at this point several years ago (RIP me), and have since just been throwing random stuff/required additions into that Note with no rhyme nor reason, so it took over two hours this week just to sort it all out. But! It is sorted!

Modern-era Renji 11 consists of 3 new scenes and 3 already-existing scenes. I wrote 1.5 of the new scenes. As far as how well I think this Chapter is going, I dunno. As a narrator, Renji’s kind of like, oh hey, here’s a thought I had. And here’s another one! Which feels legit but I’m not sure if it allows the reader to understand which pieces of information are actually important for following the narrative.

You know those reblog memes that like, ask people to identify hallmarks of your writing? The concept is fun, but it wouldn't work in practice because 0.02% of anyone who might see that post would have any familiarity with my writing. SO. I WILL SIMPLY TELL YOU. My hallmarks are that I love an interstice—love having things that should be on the cutting room floor not on the cutting room floor—but am also a firm believer in stories not needing to have every scene the characters experience to exist on the page. This combination means there’s a good chance that actually relevant, defining scenes simply do not exist and only the interstitial nonsense does. I think in certain stories this can be a real thing that works. I think it can also have the effect of nothing hanging together, making any sense, or meaning anything, without certain bits of key information/certain scenes that I simply did not include because they exist in my head and therefore exist everywhere right. I think that’s where this chapter is.

Maybe the remaining 1.5 new scenes will help ameliorate that, but I feel like that’s asking a lot of them. And then, theoretically, you’d think fixing the existing scenes would go more quickly than writing from scratch, but I don’t know that they will. Because the story leading up to this point has changed enough that the characters are in very different headspaces and perceptions of each other than they were when I first wrote those scenes. Well, that’s not true—Kensei and Renji are in a very different place with each other. Renji and Hitsugaya need to have the exact same conversation but, you know… better. And FRANKLY, I do not know whether entirely overhauling Kensei and Renji will be harder or easier than merely line-editing Hitsugaya and Renji. =_=;;

I’d really like to finish Renji 11 by the end of next week, and then take some time to finish out the revisions on Rukias 7 and 10, which are the most related to Renji 11. Then I’d like to go back to do final line edits on Chapters 4, 5, and 8 before heading into the big mess of revision that is Hisagi 9, because those revisions will be most related to Hitsugaya 12.

I’m not anticipating getting much done in September, because I have a major work deadline September 30th, and the rest of autumn will probably be kind of garbage, too, and I probably won't exist. But I would love to finish Part II (so, Chapters 12 and 13) by December. Well, speaking honestly, my original hope was that I would finish Part II by May, but here it is, August, and I am still working on Chapter 11. So: I would LOVE to finish Part II by December.

—

I did a low-res mockup of the fic banner several months ago (okay, this might have been last November). I pulled out some high-res assets to work with on Friday and played around with a new design I thought was fun, but it turns out design-wise the old mockup looks much more polished. Or it would, if I were using higher-quality materials. XD So I’ll probably go back to the old design. The only reason to continue with the new one is that it reflects the clusterfuck spirit of everything that happens in this fic, but I kind of like the way the old banner puts a pretty bow on the clusterfuck lurking beneath the surface. Maybe I’ll solicit opinions once I’ve made a more serious mockup of the first version.

[anastasiapullingteeth]

Calm. Down. Stay.

{Or The Things I Learned While Training My Reactive Dog}

My submission for this year’s @aggressivelyarospec’s Aggressively Arospectacular event! **Disclaimer: this is not a guide on how to train a reactive dog. It’s just me talking about my own experience.** [CW for mentions of COVID, anxiety, disordered eating and general bad mental health.]

It was August 2020, five months into the COVID lockdown, and I was losing my mind.

I’ve always been introverted. More interested in staying in my comfort zone (home) and indulging in my own activities (lazing around), so as bad as this may sound, lockdown wasn’t really the problem. The previous year and a half of commuting for two hours to get to work, plus years of suffering from insomnia, anxiety, and other debilitating problems were. By the time the pandemic happened, I was walking on a tightrope and the recovery was taking longer than I’d anticipated. That was when my mom, with zero thought put into it I may add, decided we needed a dog and got a month-old puppy.

I’m not one of those people who consider their pets as their actual children, but dogs are, in fact, pretty much like kids in at least one thing: not everyone is prepared to have them, and wanting one is not reason enough to get one. And, boy, I wasn’t prepared.

Given the bad state of mind I was in, the shitty job I had (and still have), and the historical event unfolding in real time, it was safe to say I was barely capable of taking care of myself, let alone a pet, but my mom promised the dog was going to be hers and, since I didn’t have the heart to rehome the puppy, we took her in and named her Quimey (“beautiful” in Mapuche).

I had plenty of dogs while growing up, but Quimey is my first dog as an adult and, although she was supposed to be my mom’s, I’m the one responsible for everything concerning her: I feed her, take her to the vet, walk her, clean after her, pay for everything... It’s a full-time job on top of everything else I already have on my plate but, even though my mom wants to help, she can’t really do much because Quimey has way too much energy and her strength and impulsivity can be dangerous if handled wrong, so I ended up taking up the responsibility myself. How hard could it be, right? It’s a dog. Then, of course, it became way harder.

Due to her chronic illness, my mom couldn’t leave the house during that time between the beginning of the pandemic and the first vaccines, so I was in charge of groceries and anything else she needed. Due to a lot of different factors (particularly that she’d been separated from her mother way too soon), Quimey wasn’t properly socialized when we got her, so, in an attempt to fix this, she often came with me to do errands. 

She’s naturally nervous, so getting out of the house involved a lot of shaking, but nothing too bad to be considered a problem. The walks went okay and, after some time, she even stopped shaking, but then, one day as we waited our turn outside a store, she jumped on a random woman seemingly out of nowhere, scaring her. She didn’t actually bite her or even try to hurt her, but, from that moment on, I was a little wary of taking her with me in case she did it again so I tried to keep her at a safe distance from other people. It seemed to work and I thought we were back at a safe place, but I was wrong.

A couple of months later, Quimey was attacked by a neighbor's dog that’d been left outside without supervision. I managed to pick her up before the dog could do any damage, but, since we couldn’t really avoid him, he tried to attack her on several other occasions for at least a month or so, until the owners saw it and finally kept him inside. Sadly, that was enough to scare Quimey for life and the primary reason her reactivity began. She’s now terribly afraid of strangers and other dogs (particularly small ones) and is literally impossible to take her anywhere without her having what’s basically a panic attack. Trying to revert that as much as possible is what I’ve been aiming for for the past 3 years.

Living in a place that’s not pet friendly and without easy access to trainers and other specialists, having a reactive dog has been a journey, but one that, looking back, has taught me more than I’d expected.

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Puppies are hard to train, they’re basically just babies, but anyone who’s had a dog before they turn one year old knows that’s nothing compared to the teenage stage. Yes, dogs go through adolescence, just like us, and it’s just as bad as you imagine. If by then you manage to teach them anything, they will forget it. They won’t listen no matter what you do and sometimes will even purposely disobey you. Avoiding shouting becomes a challenge and so far I was failing.

I’m not a person of soft emotions. I’m anxious, impatient, and temperamental, and my anger issues, although not as bad now, are very much something I still struggle with. Over the years, I’ve done my best to manage and redirect those emotions, but having a fearful reactive dog can certainly push you to the edge and test your patience because they’re harder to train and difficult to be with if you lack the knowledge to help them.

In dogs like Quimey, on top of the confusing teenage state, fear takes up their minds when they’re around a trigger and they basically lock themselves in a never-ending fight or flight response; in that scenario, they won’t listen to you not because they’re being disobedient, but because they can’t. Their bodies are fighting for survival and the last thing they need is having you screaming desperately because they’re pulling at the leash or barking, so, in order to get her to calm down, the first thing I had to learn was to be calm myself. What an impossible task! Years and years of trying had proved I couldn’t do it, but I needed to. I had to.

Dogs mirror our emotions; if I wanted to show her there was nothing to fear, I had to believe it first.

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Dogs, as well as anyone else, are unique and what could work for one won’t do much for others. Each of them has its own process and sometimes it’s ok to just wait for things to pass and manage what you can until it gets better. As a teenager, Quimey was constantly trying to escape, barked at everything that moved, and got up in the middle of the night looking for things to play with or food to steal. It was the worst six months I experienced as a dog owner because all the progress we’d achieved until then was lost. Luckily, my sister, who’s had a similar experience with her own dog, helped me with some advice. Once I understood what was happening, I took a deep breath and established a routine. 

As I said before, Quimey is high energy and needs help managing it in a way that’s safe and productive for her. So we implemented longer walks in a route that felt good for her, added scent games to stimulate her mind, practiced simple commands to control her impulsivity, and ran a few laps at night to burn all that pent-up energy that prevented her from having a full night's sleep. And it's working. Taking the time to assess the situation and try a solution is helping and something that was torturous at the beginning became bearable because I took my time. I was patient. The routine helps Quimey feel safer and more sure of herself because she no longer has to guess what is going to happen next; she is in the process of regaining control and lowering her guard, allowing her to enjoy what is around her instead of trying to run away from everything. And, what’s even more surprising, her routine is also helping me.

I’ve had trouble sleeping since I was a kid thanks to an overactive brain, and switching to full remote work due to the pandemic completely fucked any resemblance of a good sleep schedule I had so far, which wasn’t really impressive, to begin with. Routines had never done anything for me and, sometimes, having to keep a schedule for school or work even worsened my insomnia, which is the exact opposite of what one would expect. Having Quimey with me now, on the other hand, has improved my sleeping habits, not only allowing me to sleep most nights all night but also reducing the nightmares considerably.

Over the years I tried all kinds of tricks to sleep better and other things to lower my anxiety that never worked, but having a routine for Quimey did. What makes this one different? That I have a purpose. Getting better for oneself is what we all should aim for, but sometimes that’s not a good incentive when you don’t consider yourself worth it. Doing things for others can be a good first step towards healing and I already knew it’d worked for me in the past.

A few years ago, what took me out of a very long period of bad mental health was working with kids. Being surrounded by children whose parents neglected them in ways most people would dismiss pushed me to try to be the adult they needed and the one I didn’t have while growing up. I not only had to guide them academically, I also had to be able to be fully there to accompany them in their journey and that’s how I, almost accidentally, broke the streak of abnormal eating patterns and sleepless nights I'd been suffering from since I left college; adopting Quimey had more or less the same effect on me. 

Somewhere along the way I figured she, just like me, struggles to understand the world around her and her fear comes from a place of feeling inadequate to handle it. She needs someone to give her the tools to work around her big emotions and translate the things she still hasn’t fully grasped in terms she’s more familiar with. And, much like with those kids, I had to step in and be the support she needed and the one I didn’t have. And I’m trying to do that every day.

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Two years later, we still do most of the things we started her routine with, varying between the activities she gets tired of and adding stuff that fits her better as she ages. And we’re doing pretty well now.

I used to wonder what people did with reactive dogs before our generation got so obsessed with them that we started to treat them more like living things and not like objects, but then it occurred to me that, even if you think there’s more of them now because of the way the world has changed, most of the problematic dogs back in the day were abandoned or euthanized without giving them a chance or helping them overcome what had made them that way. Most of them still are even now. That, for better or worse, is part of why I keep trying with Quimey.

There’s something people with reactive dogs say constantly, but that’s worth repeating here: as much as a bad time you’re having trying to train your dog, you can be sure they’re having it way worse. Reactivity can be genetic or a result of past trauma, but whatever the cause is, your dog is struggling to adapt to this world and it’s your job to help them get there.

Quimey’s not perfect and never will be. She gets incredibly anxious if her routine changes, still won’t accept any stranger (human or dog) to get too close to her no matter how friendly, and is afraid of the simplest things like bubbles or the sound of a door closing in the distance. She sometimes has to take natural remedies to help her anxiety when her triggers are just too much to handle and we’re still working on teaching her how to stay alone in the house without a panic attack. But she’s also the most affectionate dog I have ever had.

Learning to accept and love her the way she is and my job as her advocate has strengthened our bond and has helped me accept and work on most of my own struggles as well. Identifying and naming her emotions in order to offer a safe space has created one for me, too, one I never knew how to get before, and that, without realizing, she guided me to.

Working on doing better for her helped me do better for myself as well. 

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Calm, down, stay… you’re safe now.

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