#its actually. pretty gross. i need more chips

[soft-spooks]

me when lemondrop <33333

[tigermark]

extra sweet •ू♡ lee taeyong

- pairing : taeyong x gn!reader

- synopsis : before spending the night with taeyong, you head to the convenient store to by snacks!!

- genre : fluff, like 2 seconds of angst

- contains : established relationship, food, cuddling, watching a scary movie

- a/n : shalala is SO GOODDDDD oh my gosh taeyong is absolutely adorable i love this guy!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy and make sure to stream shalala 😛

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you basically spent the whole day with taeyong, and it was time for you to head home. however, it was very clear that he wanted you to stay. every time you got ready to leave he'd interrupt you with a 'wait but...' and some excuse so you'd have to stay a few extra minutes.

halfway to the door, you were stopped by taeyong who had grabbed your forearm.

"one more kiss?" he says, lips pouty.

you nod, and he pulls you close, connecting your lips. one hand finds its way to your waist, the other combing through your hair. he pulls away, pecking you one last time before he allows you to escape his grasp.

you continue towards the door, looking over your shoulder before opening the door. taeyong's lips have a very pronounced pout, all red and puffy from the endless kisses over the last few hours.

that's when you break.

you run towards him, dropping your belongings somewhere along the way. your arms wrap around him in a bear hug, swaying him side to side.

"i'll spend the night, i know you want me to," you whisper into the back of his neck.

a huge smile creeps onto his face, and all he wants to do is just cheer like he won a nobel prize.

"can we watch that new horror movie on netflix? i heard its really good," he asks excitedly, playing with the hairs on the back of your neck.

you pull away from the hug to look him in the eyes. "taeyong, when have you ever sat through a horror movie without screaming your head off?"

he breaks the eye contact, staring at the floor. "like never.. but, i'll man up, i can power through!" he says determined.

you give him a look that says 'i don't believe that for a second, but alright' and nod slowly.

"well, if we're gonna watch a movie we need snacks. do you have any?"

he turns towards the kitchen. "we can go check, i don't think i do though."

you both walk to the kitchen to his snack cabinet, and open it to see a few protein bars, trail mix, and sugar free jello.

"gross, let's just go buy some stuff yeah?" you suggest, looking towards his direction.

he nods, closing the cabinet as you get ready to leave.

"ready?" you ask as he finishes tying his shoelace.

"yup, let's go!!" he says enthusiastically.

the whole walk to the store you held hands. holding hands with taeyong was something else entirely. he made you feel comforted, and 10x closer than you were. his thumb caresses, giggles when you swung your hands, and unnecessarily hard squeezes were more than lovely.

"you think they'll finally have those chips we tried that one time? i guess they're so good that they're always sold out..." he asks, not expecting an actual answer.

"hmm, maybe. i went here a few nights ago and they did, but you know how fast things fly off the shelves," you respond, attempting to be as useful as possible.

upon arriving to the store, taeyong pretty much dragged you to the chip isle. "yn, yn look!! they do have them!!" he says, overjoyed.

"ohmygod we need to buy them!!" you respond, sharing his excitement.

he nods eagerly, shoving two bags into the basket he grabbed on the way in. he wanders down the aisles, you following closely behind.

"what candy do you want?" he asks, looking at you.

"hmm.. how about some chocolate? i'll let you choose which one," you respond.

he smiles at you, reviewing the selection of chocolate they have. he grabs his favorite, the one you knew he would grab, and puts it in the basket along with the chips.

"i have some soda at my apartment, so unless you want anything else we can check out," he says, turning to face you. he sees you eyeing a bag of gummies on the shelf. you grab them, and they get placed in the basket with the other array of snacks.

you make your way to the cash register, and place your basket on the counter.

after making some small talk with the cashier and watching them scan everything, taeyong pays and you're on your way.

"are there any movies you had in mind? you know, in case we do chicken out," you ask, aware of the possibilities.

"not really, but we can always look," he answers, looking down at your hand in his. "i usually just watch some funny youtube videos to calm me down."

you nod at his suggestion, trying not to laugh at the image in your head of taeyong cuddled up on his couch watching something funny after screaming to a jumpscare. you accidentally let out a little giggle, causing taeyong to look in your direction.

"what's so funny?" he asks innocently.

"nothing," you say between laughs.

"no, c'mon tell me!" he pushes.

"it's just the idea of you watching some stupid cat video compilation after a scary movie is so funny to me," you say before bursting out into laughter.

he whines, squeezing your hand tighter. "stop making fun of me! it actually helps, just wait and see!"

you nod through your laughs, and the rest of your walk home is filled with your occasional giggles and taeyong defending himself.

upon arriving back at taeyong's house, you place your bags next to the couch and get some drinks before settling onto the couch.

he turns on the tv and opens netflix, searching for the movie. he pauses to read the movie description, and you hear him let out a shaky breath before pressing play.

the start of the movie pulls you in, and you're more interested than you thought you'd be. taeyong, however, is on edge the whole time. even when there is just a quick camera change you can feel him jump and scoot closer to you.

the actual horror part of the movie starts with a simple jumpscare, and taeyong pretty much screeches. he jumps into your arms, burying his head in your neck. you wrap your arms around him to comfort him, trying your absolute best to not laugh at him.

"is it over..?" he asks, voice shaky.

"well i paused it so unless you wanna finish it yeah," you respond, nodding in the direction of the tv.

"i feel bad ruining this," he rests his head on your shoulder, face turned towards your neck. "i don't wanna move though."

he kisses the skin on your neck closest to his lips, keeping his lips puckered against you. when you trace small shapes on his upper back, you feel him smile. he pulls away from your neck, meeting your eyes.

"can we just watch those kitten videos now..?" he murmurs.

"of course we can," you smile, grabbing the remote to open youtube.

taeyong turns around on your lap, sitting himself in between your legs. you type 'funny cat videos' into the youtube search, clicking on the first result.

you wrap your arms around taeyong's waist, your head resting on his shoulder. you both giggle at the video every now and then, slowly getting tired.

after about an hour of watching stupid youtube videos, you and taeyong are both on the verge of falling asleep.

"c'mon, let's go to sleep.." he says, tiredness lacing his voice.

you nod sleepily, and you let taeyong guide you to his bedroom. his smell travles through the air, making his room seem even more comfortable than it already was.

you both head into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and doing your skincare together. you put on some of taeyong's clothes to sleep in that he gave to you, and collapse into bed.

taeyong follows you shortly after, tangling your bodies together in a lazy cuddle. his head finds its way to your chest, and you go to play with his hair immediately while taeyong slowly caresses your skin.

it doesn't take very long for the both of you to fall asleep, finding comfort in each other's warmth.

[youreaclownnow]

Since I've been asked now, about my recipes by my dear friend @spacedustpan I decided yes I'll make a post.

"Slop from the trough" is more of a category of foods than any individual recipes. There are also different levels to it.

Slop- food that's mixed together but doesn't look too gross, think pasta with chopped hot dogs and broccoli in it.

Pig Slop- slightly grosser looking than slop but not terrible. Mac n cheese with tuna and spam and green beans falls here, as do many egg dishes. Usually includes hot sauce to increase sloppiness.

Hog Slop- if it doesn't make me ask myself the question "why the hell am I even eating this?" Its not hog slop. Brown sauces are key here. It can taste good but it has to look honestly pretty bad for it to count.

***these are only slop from the trough if I use a big dish to eat it from otherwise it's just slop in a regular bowl.

Fujo Fuel is actually a meal.

It's a grilled cheese (can have meat but not required) and a pickle. Chips can be added as well but like meat, aren't necessary.

Now evil fujo fuel? It's the same meal with the addition of what I've been told, is a fucked up choice of beverage to have with such a meal.

That beverage? Mocha iced coffee with a peppermint schnapps nip. Not evil in and of itself, but I'd be lying if I said that pairing it with a grilled cheese didn't make my stomach angry everytime I do it.

Now, why's it called fujo fuel? Because it's a super fast meal to make that fills me up and doesn't cut much into time I could be doing yaoi related activities.

And lastly, we have Cocaine Lite, also known as Evil Elixir. This is a genuinely dangerous drink that is not without its risks. I cannot stress this enough. Nothing I've ever consumed ever has filled me with more fiery burning violent rage and the physical energy to match, than this drink has.

⚠️DRINK AT YOUR OWN RISK AND DONT SAY I DIDNT WARN YOU⚠️

1 can of 300mg ghost energy, citrus flavor

2 shots of jager

3 shots of vodka

About 4oz orange juice

About 1oz lime juice

Poured over ice in a big glass.

Genuinely I cannot recommend this drink. I've made it exactly once and unless I need to go fight somebody irl I'm never making it again.

[choicesfrog]

what do your ocs/mcs/lis smell like? (not in a weird creepy way asdfghjk but in a what's their fav scent/their house smell way yk)

Thanks for the ask! Don’t worry I got what you meant! This got way too long, but it was fun to think about 😄

Dez really likes the scent of mint (and also eats mints/chews mint gum peppermint not wintergreen). I imagine Indigo having a citrusy smell from body wash.

Since Sloane likes lavender I imagine Carolina started using lavender scented shampoo. Also, lots of lavender soaps and candles.

Milo I think would probably have some super strong smelling cologne that gets its smell all over everything. He thinks it smells good, as for anyone else? Not so much 😅

I imagine Eloise and Hana really liking floral smells. Lots of flowers in their house. Gardenias, roses, lilies the works. I would imagine they both use some kind of floral perfume, but with a softer smell.

Elaine loves the smell of the ocean and tries to visit the beach whenever possible. I imagine Liam enjoying the smell of baked bread and baking scents in general (if that makes sense), reminding him of baking with his mother.

Similar to Liam, Lennox and Kate enjoy the smell of baked goods. You’d think they’d be tired of it after working in a bakery all day, but they both have a major sweet tooth. I imagine they still bake at home.

Jade likes the smell of cinnamon and strong smells in general. Naomi enjoys fresh air, nature, and just the smell of the outdoors, bringing her back to her time living on her family’s ranch.

So for Valentine my mind keeps coming back to this really gross smelling candle we had where I used to work that was a Halloween themed scent. I can’t even describe what it smelled like other than strong and gross, but I feel like he’d be into that? Also, herbs and spices. I imagine he’d join Ava on her witchy endeavors.

Marella likes the smell of typical bubble gum, cotton candy, and really any candy related scent. For some reason I imagine Andy liking the smell of movie theater popcorn. Those two probably watch a bunch of ridiculous movies together, so buttery popcorn is a common smell.

Cassie actually likes the smell of garlic. She’s also one that likes smells that remind her of cooking and happier times with her parents. She remembers eating large, strong smelling meals with her family. Garlic reminds her of her favorite garlic and butter noodles. The smell of hay and the forest remind Imogen of her beloved horse. I still picture her to be a major horse girl. Maybe opening up a rescue for them after the story. She also wears fancy perfume, and she likes floral and vanilla scented ones.

Theo likes the smell of coffee and coffee grounds. They needs their coffee in the morning to wake up/stay awake after all nighters. Trystan likes the smell of books having read a lot when she was younger.

Ruelle is another who loves the smell of nature, the forest, the river rushing by. They’re all smells that she can carry with her to remind her of home, even if she’d rather keep on traveling than return. Nia likes the smell of roses and sweet pea. I imagine her gravitating more towards floral and springtime smells.

Charlotte likes the smell of chocolate, crisp air, and wood burning in the fireplace. She enjoys cozy nights in, in the winter. I think of Emma as a fall and pumpkin spice person for some reason, so fall smells.

I imagine both Lily and Olive are super chaotic, and their home probably doesn’t smell too great sometimes, when they’re in their apartment and not supervising the Shadow Den. Lily likes the smell of pizza and uses really outrageous toppings. Olive is pretty similar in liking food smells. Usually fast food/junk food, French fries, potato chips (sour cream and onion). Just because vampires don’t need food, doesn’t mean they don’t like smelling it.

I feel like I don’t “know” Erica and Amalia enough since I’m not too far into It Lives Within, but I’ll probably update this when I figure something out.

[ready-set-shenanigans]

Take two on sendin this request lmao ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ 15-25 for nolan and/or kris por favor -💚

If you had to choose a single object to act as a symbol for your oc, what would it be? Why?

Nolan: uhhhhh idk maybe a spade? ♠️

Kris: something nerdy or related to his job i guess? Maybe a screwdriver or like and ai data chip, idk

If your oc could only eat one thing for the rest of their life (while miraculously not suffering from malnutrition), what would it be? Does this match their favourite food?

Nolan: Really likes meaty stews (think like hearty beef stews, Irish stew, or Italian style)

Kris: Imma say prolly Pepper Steak (for my own sanity rn djdbjd)

How prepared is your oc? Ready for the worst no matter what, or completely lost in every situation? Would they have a medkit when it was needed? Would they have an umbrella if it rains?

Nolan: Maybe not prepped in the sense that he'd have things readily on hand, but he's at least always ready mentally and has pretty good knowledge of survival skills in the absence of like, medkits or devices.

Kris: Absolutely not, no. Dude rarely goes anywhere that's not home or work. I think at most he'd have an umbrella available in either location or his car tbh. Also OTC pain meds (like advil or tylenol). But any situation that isn't tech related, he's not really prepared for nor all that helpful.

How charitable is your oc? Or are they more stingy with their resources and money?

Nolan: He can be charitable, but usually will keep things to himself. Still gets in the mindset that he has to be careful with his resources from well before he got yoinked to a whole different universe.

Kris: Surprisingly very charitable despite his grumpy and anti-social disposition. Basically one of the few things he learned/picked up from his parents regarding resources/money. (Really only stingy when it comes to project work and doesn't really share work load or materials until he's done)

If someone was describing your oc to someone who had never met them, what distinguishing features would they mention? How would one identify your oc in a crowd?

Nolan: Uhhhhhh gruff/scruffy, littered in scars/has a burn scar on his right shoulder, looks extremely tired from stress.

Kris: Practically looks like a blond JD (Heathers), resting bitch face, often wears a lot of shirt layers, lab coat.

Does your oc have any pleasure that embarrasses them so they keep it secret? Or are they open about all the things they enjoy?

Nolan: He typically keeps any info of that kind to himself, lest it gets used against him honestly. But I guess maybe cross-stitching?

Kris: He also keeps what he enjoys to himself, more so out of "its not anyone else's business". He does like to watch those acne videos tho (but only the ones by actual professionals), he thinks theyre oddly fascinating, even if they can be gross. Or listens to reddit stories in the background while at home.

What is your oc’s stamina like? Would they be able to run a marathon, or not run at all? What about walking/another physical activity? How are they with exercise in general?

Nolan: He's got excellent stamina, often runs/jogs a few miles everyday/every other day along with some other exercise routines when he can.

Kris: His isn't all that great but it's not too terrible. The guy sits most the day, but he's got decent arm strength considering all the things he lifts and lugs around his office space during projects.

How long can your oc stay focused on one task before they get bored? Do they constantly have to switch things up or do they hyperfocus? What sort of things is it the opposite for?

Nolan: Can focus fairly well for short periods, but will typically have to switch things up for a couple minutes before returning (otherwise gets hit with s similar thing to highway hypnosis, idk, might just be zoning out tbh)

Kris: Dude could stay focused for hourrssss and gets rather upset upon being interrupted. (unless it has anything to do with events that his parents set up, then he'd rather do anything else, anywhere else)

What is the most annoying sound to your oc? What’s the most pleasant? Is there any reason?

Nolan: Sounds caused by things like tasers or exposed wires, or things that sound like they explode. Some of the punishments or experiments at Star Labs included tasers or exposure to relatively low volts of electricity. Anything that explodes or sounds like it has him going on high alert and ready to rush people to safety.

Kris: Certain types of pop music mostly (from childhood contests) and large amounts of people chatter really grates his nerves and tests his patience (very much not a people person)

What smells bring back specific memories to your oc? What are those memories like?

Nolan: Open fire smoked fish/cooked rabbit, reminds him of the time he was part of a rebellion and camped out in woods for long periods of time, eating what they could catch and staying up late to keep watch. While not a particularly good time frame, he looks back at those moments with fondness on the bonds he made with others.

Kris: Anything that has to do with beauty products, like hairspray or make-up. Brings back the memories of pageants he was forced to participate in as a kid and how his mom would spend hours fixing him up and nagging at him for not sitting still or complaining, some of the worst times in his life he would say.

How jumpy or easily spooked is your oc? Do they have a fight or flight reflex to being startled, or are they never startled at all?

Nolan: Not easily startled, but does have a huge fight response in the rare case. (attempt at own risk)

Kris: Sorta easy to startle?? Has a mix of both fight and flight, followed by angry yelling/swearing depending on the situation. (also attempt at own risk, usually holding/carrying something considered sharp or hot, like a pen, screwdriver or soldering iron)

[phoenixyfriend]

Re: the AU where Anakin, Ahsoka, and Rex are stuck on Tattooine pre-TPM, how much of the truth does Shmi know? Is she aware that Local Weird Mechanic is her baby boy all grown up?

I addressed this in a previous ask but Shmi is the first person to know they’re time-travelers and, for three years, the only person to know.

Base Post

Anakin didn’t actually think to give a fake name at first, because he wasn’t aware that he was in the past, and assumed that between his Very Famous face and Rex’s Very Recognizable armor, people would just know who he was on sight, even on Tatooine. I imagine that Tatooine, despite mostly ignoring the war, had a lot of the lower classes being very eager for information on the Jedi General with a slave name. Like all else aside, That’s One Of Ours.

So Anakin doesn’t bother with a fake name, and by the time he realizes what’s up with time-travel, it’s too late. He’s already cemented himself in the memories of at least a handful of people that, for whatever reason, he needs or wants to stay on good terms with.

[more under the cut]

The next issue is that Anakin doesn’t want his mom to have her choices taken away. She has friends on Tatooine, despite everything. A husband, in the future, that he understands she genuinely loved. Anakin doesn’t know for sure that his mom would want to leave the planet. He wants to give her the choice, but if she wants to stay on Tatooine, then he needs to free her the “legal” way, by buying her (and little Ani’s) freedom, because otherwise she’ll have to be on the lookout for Hutt Law Enforcement who are looking to get Watto’s property back for him.

If she wants to leave the planet, then it’s easy enough to steal in, deactivate/remove the slave chip, and smuggle her out. They’ve done that before. It’s fine.

But it has to be Shmi’s choice, and Anakin is very adamant about that.

This means that he needs to, you know, talk to her. And ask her what she wants. And the thing is, if he just asks “Hey, can I talk to your slave for a bit,” Watto will have very specific assumptions about what Anakin wants, gross ones. Shmi is also likely to have those assumptions until Anakin clarifies what’s going on. If he just asks her the questions about slavery without a specification as to why he cares, then there’s a solid chance she might assume that he’s there to trap her in questions she can’t answer because he’s been hired to find runaway slaves, and that’s just a mess of its own.

What it really comes down to, for Anakin, is that he has to go to his and his mom’s hovel, where Watto can’t interfere OR make assumptions out loud that have Bad Connotations, and talk to Shmi one-on-one (probably he brings Ahsoka to distract little Ani). His options at that point are two versions of the truth: 1. Former slave who is looking to free her and other slaves, and is contacting her at this point because he wants to prioritize those with children 2. Just telling her that he’s her son from the future

But this is Anakin, who often puts his emotions before his logic, and also really misses his mom. He is a dramatic mess who shows up at her door with a hood to hide his face, says something dramatic but with like... whatever code makes it clear that he used to be a slave and is there for that business, and tells her “here, my teenage apprentice can distract your son while we talk.”

And they sit down, Anakin feeling very awkward, and then he just... takes her hands and lets her feel him in the Force because I imagine Shmi was at least a little Force-Sensitive, if only because it’s more convenient for me if she is. Anakin proves that he is the future version of her adorable six-year-old, and he explains the choices and his plans, and Shmi firmly tells him that if he’s a Jedi now, and doesn’t have an official obligation back on Coruscant, then he can help a LOT more people by staying on Tatooine and joining a freedom trail of some sort. People need help, there’s no war to fight, and Anakin can do as much good freelancing at home as he could going back to Official Jedi Work. She’ll stay to help since she’s got more contacts than he does.

Anakin’s like “yes, absolutely, I will do whatever you say” because he can’t say no to Mom.

They have to come up with a cover story for Anakin and Anakin having the same exact name, especially once Little Ani grows up enough to look like his older self, so Shmi and Anakin work out a plan to claim that she once had a younger brother named Anakin, whom she was separated from years ago, when the brother was a child and she was a teenager. She heard through the grapevine that he’d died, and a few years later had a child that she named after the little brother, as one does. Turns out the little brother isn’t dead, he was freed and joined an army of some sort, got married and picked up an apprentice, and is now back on Tatooine to Free His Sister (and also everyone else).

The “I am my own uncle” cover story will not hold up without Shmi’s full involvement, which is fine because Shmi is willing to play hardball in this situation. Big Anakin is a trained Jedi and war general, and Rex is very good at logistics, and Ahsoka’s a sneaky little shit. They are a great addition to the network of freedom trails on Tatooine, especially since the mix of skills they have is pretty much guaranteed to provide a solid cover for a lot of what they do. Anakin is an expert mechanic, Ahsoka is good enough to proudly claim to be his apprentice, and Rex’s logistic management of the paperwork is good enough to hide a lot of the more secret money that flows through once Hutt Tax People show up.

Running a space mechanic shop means it’s really easy to excuse basically any large ship that stops by. That freighter is just here to get a tune-up, sir! It’s definitely spice they’re hiding in the secret cargo holds, not three dozen escaped sentients.

We have all this medical equipment because of the number of burns we get welding things into place, or the incidents where someone slips and gets cut on a saw. Definitely not there for removing slave chips.

Those shipping manifests are definitely just here so we can project our possible income in the next few seasons by guessing who’s going to be coming through the city, and not us trying to figure out how many of Jabba’s goons we can sabotage without getting caught.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Ch. 3

18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing: Shigaraki x Dabi (just this part), Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader (very brief and vague reference to Dabi x Hawks)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: smut and feels, it's literally just smut, blow jobs, friends(?) with benefits, blow jobs, anal fingering, light degradation (both for shigs and reader), could maybe be interpreted as slight dubcon, dirty talk, slutty dabi, dabi is an asshole, so is tomura, reader has gender neutral pronouns, I'm keeping it fem cause Shigs hates women and calls them that

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which the boys share in some good ole roommate bonding activities and Tomura has a blow job induced epiphany.

AO3 Mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg (shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged and make sure to check my rules!)

Dabi’s mouth was wet and so fucking warm as he swallowed around Tomura’s dick.

“Oh fuck…” he groaned as Dabi hummed around his length and did that thing where he flicked the ball of his tongue ring over Tomura’s slit.

Bright blue eyes stared up through deceptively long lashes, smirking at the way Tomura drooled as he got his soul sucked out the tip of dick. The mattress underneath him creaked despite the negligible weight of both their bodies. Dabi settled on his stomach between Tomura’s pale thighs leaving fingerprint bruises in soft flesh.

They did this sometimes, though he wasn’t quite sure when exactly it started. Dabi had been his randomly assigned roommate freshman year and he grew so used to living with him that the two of them had just silently, yet mutually agreed not to fuck something up that wasn’t broken. They both berated each other for their strange and somewhat disgusting habits—Dabi would say that Tomura was a gross shut-in creep who needed a fucking shower and Tomura called Dabi out on his slutty pastimes and obsession with piercing the hell out of every available inch of skin.

And sometimes they sucked each other off.

It was overall not a terrible arrangement—Dabi got his fill of dick and Tomura could no longer be made fun of for being completely inexperienced. Plus, as much as he was loathe to admit, Dabi was really fucking good at oral. Like, demonically good. He’d been going down on Tomura for so long now too that he’d learned all the things that had him spilling onto that pierced tongue in minutes.

Tomura jerked from his thoughts when two, lube slicked fingers prodding at his ass.

“Dabi, what the fuck are you—” he protested, wiggling his scrawny hips up the bed and inadvertently letting his cock slip out of the inviting heat between his roommate’s lips.

He couldn’t see much other than the shaking mop of black hair and pale hands with chipped black nail polish digging into his legs, yanking him back.

“Shut up freak,” Dabi slurred, words slick with spit and Tomura’s precum. Dabi said it tasted like battery acid, but it never stopped him from guzzling it like he did with cheap whiskey and cigarettes on the weekends. “I know you like it.”

He did like it, but Tomura wasn’t about to contribute to the fucking evil grin Dabi was giving him as he circled the tight ring of muscle, slipping in a finger to the first knuckle.

Tomura’s head flopped back on the pillows as he bit back a low moan, “Fuck off.”

“If you say so,” Dabi shoved his finger in roughly, squeezing a second in behind it and letting Tomura bask in the burn of being stretched too quickly before ripping his hands away.

“No!” Tomura wailed pretty fucking shamelessly and grabbed the retreating wrist, placing Dabi’s tatted hand back on his dick that throbbed and leaked painfully.

“Dude, what’s gotten the fuck into you?” his roommate asked, smirking still, but pumping Tomura's cock loosely nonetheless. “Our walls are thin as hell, you know I can hear you jerkin' it in here every night, and now you’re practically begging for me to suck you off. Usually I gotta come to you.”

He was infuriatingly right again.

Tomura had indeed asked for him to do this, which was definitely out of character for him. Most of the time when they ended up in this position, it was because Dabi spent hours hounding him about it or just fucking dropped to his knees and whipped Tomura’s cock out in the middle of a movie night or snuck into his room while Tomura was gaming and swallowed him whole just to laugh at the way his online friends reacted to the noises.

He’s just been so pent up lately, and you insisting on fucking touching his arm or sitting on the floor between his feet at League meetings was really not helping it.

“I don’t know,” Tomura lied, both to Dabi and himself in the hopes that the head of black hair would just go back to bobbing on his dick like he so desperately needed it to.

“Bro, I have fucked with enough people to know when they’re wishing I was someone else,” Dabi scoffed and ran a blessedly hot tongue from base to tip and suckled softly at the blush pink head before pulling back with a wet pop. “So who is it?”

“I’m not fucking thinking about anyone,” Tomura hissed, fisting Dabi’s spiky, black locks and thrusting into his mouth till he felt the contractions of Dabi gagging around his length. “Usually you're jumping at the chance to get dick in your mouth, so why does it matter?”

Dabi pulled back, wiping the silvery string of spit leaking past his lips away and scowling as his fingers ghosted over Tomura’s balls and sank back into his pliant ass.

“Seriously creep, I’m five seconds away from ghosting and you can fuck your hand like the sad little bitch you are. So tell me their name or I’m walking right now.”

Tomura huffed as he felt Dabi’s long, rough fingers pulled from him again and the heat of his mouth growing farther away.

“Ugh fine, it’s that bitch I’ve been working on the English thing with.”

Dabi made a face like his brain was buffering.

“Seriously?” he asked, mouth gaping in a way that had Tomura even more furious his dick wasn’t buried in it.

“Yes!” he shouted and grabbed Dabi’s cheeks in both hands, sinking past his waiting lips and practically purring when he felt them close around the base as his long tongue massaged the shaft. “Oh god yes…”

Dabi rolled his eyes, managing to look smug even with a cock stretching his lips taught against the piercings. He used to try and tease Tomura about how small his dick was, but it was hard to believe him. Especially with how he choked sometimes when Tomura got rough with him despite his boasts of lacking a gag reflex. Not to mention how he looked now, jaw probably aching with the stretch and loving every second of it.

Tomura lazily bucked his hips up and whined high when the fingers in his ass curled and thrust against that fucking spot he hadn’t known was there until Dabi found it for him.

The pleased sound he made tapered off into a growl though, when his roommate with questionable benefits pulled off again to run his slutty fucking mouth.

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled, kitten licking at Tomura’s cock and running the ball of his piercing through the slit again. Tomura gulped when he pulled it back into his mouth to swallow the bead of precum he’d collected. “I’ve seen your fucking paramour around before, pretty serious about school though. And kinda out of your league too, not gonna lie. So, what would you do if your cute little partner was here instead?”

Tomura bristled at the insult but couldn’t keep his pissed off look when Dabi went back to sucking his cock like a pro and curling those fucking fingers against his prostate. When he did speak, he blushed hard at the way his voice cracked and sounded like he was crying.

“I don’t fucking—holy shit—know,” he gasped and Dabi hummed both to egg him on and to get a whole new wave of precum gushing out of Tomura’s dick.

“C’mon man,” Dabi groaned, and Tomura distinctly heard the sound of a pants zipper and felt Dabi’s hips canting against the sheets.

That fucking masochistic whore. He would get off to Tomura dirty talking about someone else while he sucked his dick.

He considered stopping the whole thing right there, but then Dabi was sinking a third finger into his ass and thrusting hard while he hallowed his cheeks around Tomura’s cock and sucked—

“Tits!” Tomura cried and covered his burning, red cheeks with his hands. “I want to put my fucking face in them and taste them in my mouth. Sometimes I can see the outline of their nipples when we’re working and the air conditioning comes on and I want to suck on them so fucking bad I can’t think about anything else the whole night.”

Once he got started, Tomura found the words just spilled from him like a dam had burst. Dabi, the depraved bastard, groaned loud and ground his pierced dick harder against the mattress as he continued to deepthroat Tomura’s cock and fuck his ass at that perfect angle.

“Sometimes when they drag me to their stupid club I lose the rounds cause I—oh god, oh fuck—just imagine them in my lap, sitting on my cock and fucking writhing and squeezing me while we face off. Such a fucking—Dabi more!—stereotypical try-hard, bitch but I want to be inside them so fucking bad,” he felt actual tears stinging the raw corners of his eyes when Dabi sped up on his dick.

Tomura scrapped his nails against Dabi’s scalp, holding on for dear life as his breathing became even more ragged than usual. His friend’s cruelty streak reared its ugly head as Dabi sensed the tensing of Tomura’s balls and the clench of his tight ass and slowed down a fraction, keeping him teetering on the edge of an explosively pleasurable release.

“Fucking asshole,” he growled, but didn’t dare try to fuck Dabi’s face lest he make good on his threat to leave Tomura high and dry. “I just—shit, ah, don’t stop—they talk to me sometimes and I just wanna suck their tongue into my mouth so they shut up and I need to hear them fucking falling apart or using that stupid, stuck up teacher voice on me and fucking my ass—Dabi Fuck—is that what you wanted to hear?”

Dabi, because he got off on being a little shit, gave him one last delicious swallow before pulling back and fisting Tomura’s sopping wet cock. The fingers had stopped thrusting and were now pressed hard against his prostate, sending shocks through his body and making him twitch violently as his blood rushed with endorphins. He never stopped grinding his own dick against Tomura’s cotton sheets the whole time.

“You got it bad huh, don’t ya creep,” he mused, letting a fat glob of spit fall from his lips and keep his palm slick. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about fucking anything, much less another actual person.”

“No I fucking don’t, “ Tomura writhed against the pillows, giving in to the undeniable urge to simultaneously fuck up into Dabi’s hand and ride his fingers.

“Who knew you were such a desperate whore, falling for the first person to show you a modicum of attention,” Dabi jeered and squeezed the tip of his dick hard, listening to Tomura let out a choked sob. “I’m actually kinda proud of you, bro. My little incel baby’s growing up.”

Dabi cooed at Tomura, sinking sharp teeth deep into the meat of his thigh and sucking a bruise into the flesh.

“You’re the one—nghh—getting off on it,” Tomura clapped back but didn’t bother denying it again.

There was a sense of dread growing in his gut alongside the mounting pleasure of his orgasm that Dabi was currently holding hostage. Dabi may have had a dickish personality just as massive as the actual dick that was currently painting his comforter in stains, but he knew Tomura.

And he did, admittedly have much more experience with these types of things.

“Fuck yeah I am,” Dabi grunted. “Last time I let you return the favor you bit my fucking cock. I gotta get off somehow.”

“Don’t say rude shit to me and I won’t bite you.”

“Watch it, Tomura,” Dabi huffed and nipped at his thigh again. “You should be thanking me for my services.”

“Not if you’re gonna keep running your mouth instead of sucking me off,” he tried to sound intimidating but he was well and truly wrecked and couldn’t find the energy to give his words an edge.

“You should ask them out,” Dabi continued, ignoring the failed attempts at banter. “Bring ‘em over or some shit. Maybe then if I lock down that blonde piece of ass I’ve been talking to, we’ll both have much more interesting things to go down on.”

“Your whore ass is the one always jumping me, don’t act like it’s a fucking chore,” Tomura groaned as Dabi started licking at his cock again, pressing sloppy, half kisses on the tip as he jerked it in his fist.

“Not my fault I get bored sometimes,” he replied and closed his eyes as Tomura clenched particularly hard around Dabi’s relentless fingers. “But seriously, you should go for it. I’d kill to find out if you’re just as bad at eating pussy as you are sucking dick.”

“Fuck y—” Tomura started to say when Dabi reared up till they were chest to chest and their foreheads knocked together.

“I fucking will if you don’t shut up, creep, and I think it’d be so much better if you handed your fucking virginity to that pretty little partner bitch instead,” he said and stunned Tomura into silence when he licked into his mouth.

Dabi had kissed him before, but Tomura could count the number of occasions on one hand and almost all had been when his punk ass roommate was drunk as hell and in his feels about some tortured past. But Dabi’s eyes were bright and lucid now, blinking down at Tomura as he dragged their tongues together, flooding his mouth with the faint taste of cigarettes and jizz.

Their cocks brushed together too, the stimulation making Tomura whine into Dabi’s lips, who dropped a merciful hand down, taking them both in his fist and began pumping.

He didn’t stop as he pulled back, grinning down at Tomura like a fucking maniac—all shitty tattoos and silver piercings. The little barbels that stuck through Dabi’s nipples brushed against his own and made him moan at the cool metal and hot skin on his sensitive chest. Tomura was fucking sensitive everywhere, as Dabi had helped him discover, probably from a lifetime of being touched more by cheap sweatshirts than human hands.

“Now,” Dabi grunted as he thrust loosely against Tomura’s cock and his own fist before pulling away to settle back between his legs. “Shut up and cum down my throat—gotta give your virgin ass a refresher on mind shattering orgasms, so you know if that bitch is any good or not.”

Tomura’s tongue was halfway around a witty comeback when Dabi swallowed him to the hilt once again and started working his ass even harder. He really fucked hoped the neighbors were not home to hear him get his shit rocked at 2pm on a fucking Tuesday, cause Dabi might have been flunking out of his classes but he’d get a goddamn A plus for sucking dick.

The hand on his thigh, spreading him open, migrated to his hip so that Tomura could snap his legs shut hard around Dabi’s ring littered ears as he guided Tomura to grind down on his hand. The pressure in his gut built up exponentially higher now that Dabi wasn’t trying to hold him on the edge of climax. It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to acquiesce to Dabi’s request, as he tightened up in a full body clench before gripping Dabi’s hair and spilling rope after rope of hot, sticky release straight onto his roommate’s tongue.

Dabi, the fucking slut, made a show of swallowing every drop that spilled from Tomura’s abused cock, milking his prostate the whole time and only letting Tomura slip from his mouth when he was soft and finally spent.

The fingers in his ass remained though, still for the most part and slowly dipping in and out every so often. Tomura whimpered and clenched but was somewhat thankful for the remaining feeling of fullness.

“So, did you really mean all that?” Dabi asked with his signature smirk. “You really want your group project partner to cockwarm you and fuck your tight little ass?”

“Fuck off,” Tomura scowled and smacked Dabi hard across the face with an errant pillow.

Dabi yanked it from his grasp and tossed his ammunition onto the floor. “Hey, it’s not actually too bad in here,” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis which elicited an embarrassingly high gasp from Tomura, “give ‘em my number if you need a reference for asshole tightness.”

“Get the fuck out of my ass and my room,” Tomura kicked at Dabi’s back as it shook with laughter that lacked it’s usual jeering bite.

“What? Saving the cuddles for your new S/O?” he shot back, nuzzling his cum and spit covered face into Tomura’s neck.

With their chests pressed together, Tomura could feel the cooling, sticky remnants of Dabi’s own release coating his stomach. He squirmed against the sensation and pushed at the offending chest until his friend flopped down onto the scant space left between the mattress and the wall.

“Ew,” Tomura ran a finger through the mess Dabi had left smeared on him. “I’m taking a fucking shower.”

“God, finally!” Dabi exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and producing a cigarette from god knows where. He let the paper rest between his lips unlit. “I should have thought about getting you fucked out on the reg earlier, creep, if it’ll stop you smelling like ass.”

Tomura launched the discarded pillow which hit it’s mark with a dull thump.

“You better be fucking gone when I get back,” he hissed and stumbled naked, on shaking legs into the hall and to their shared bathroom.

Dabi’s cackling followed him until the door shut and the lock clicked behind him.

Tomura turned the water on quickly, letting steam cloud the mirror before he jumped under the spray. The only products on the shelves were Dabi’s for the most part with the exception of a store brand bar of soap and some 3 in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

Tomura knew he should clean himself more often, but his skin was so fucking raw all the time it hurt to do, so he mostly avoided it unless the smell got really unbearable—or Dabi was painting him in jizz whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He tried to get in and out as quickly as possible so he didn’t have the opportunity to think too hard about the admission his fuck buddy roommate had pulled from him mid blow job. Because if he did—in his post nut, clingy state—he’d most certainly imagine you were with him, tits pressed against his back and your soft, insistent tongue dipping past his lips, tasting like fruit gum and expensive cafe drinks instead of nicotine and cum.

And he really couldn’t handle that. Cause Dabi was right, he had something fucking bad for you and the thought of another rejection loomed large.

When he did towel himself off and shuffle, still naked back into his bedroom Dabi was nowhere to be seen. Tomura’s phone however, was left sitting right next to the jizz stain on his sheets. He frowned at the open balcony door where Dabi was no doubt smoking and snatched the device before tumbling onto the pillows.

He powered it on and scrolled through his notifs before one caught his eyes. You and Dabi were really the only people that ever texted him, but the contact name above this one had changed.

bitch (endearing)

— hey, starting an impromptu round of Smash soon if you’re interested <3

The stupid text heart made his chest throb and he stared at Dabi’s new nickname for you, not even noticing the fucking grin that tugged at his cheeks.

He bit his lip to stop the twitching when it pulled too hard at the chapped skin and scrambled for his clothes before shooting a quick confirmation text back. Tomura opted for his only pair of black jeans this time instead of sweats and the least stained sweatshirt he owned.

Dabi peaked around the corner when he heard the clink of Tomura’s keys. The bastard was smoking in just a pair of underwear that left half his ass on display for all the whole fucking street. He smirked, quirking his eyebrows and bringing his hands up to slip his index finger through the circle he made on the other hand in a silent, vulgar gesture.

“Screw off,” Tomura shouted over his shoulder and made for the door.

“Wrap it before you tap it, bro!” Dabi called after him, cut off by the subsequent slamming.

Tomura took the stairs two at a time, pulling out his phone and tucking the hood over his damp hair, this time to hide the growing smile playing at his lips.

[raziroo]

Cotton Candy

Pairing: Lotor x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Saying "Shit" twice

Word count: 2,076 (yay) (also, I edited this, I still need to update the word count)

Author’s Note: I'm crap at writing dialogues, and this is my first time writing for a gay couple. I'm so sorry if it seems forced or unnatural or shitty. Don't be afraid to call me out.

Story Moodboard!

It’s with a grunt of effort that I manage to lift the carton containing the cotton-candy-maker.

‘Here, dad,’ I say as my dad takes the box from my hands. ‘That’s all?’

‘Yep, that’s all of it. We’ll conquer this carnival with our delicious cotton candy,’ I nod, doing jazz hands while saying the last part. Dad chuckles. I grin.

‘Hey, Honey!’ I turn back, squinting to spot where my other dad is in the crowd of bustling people. Where, where…? Yep, there he is – in his embarrassingly brilliant sunshine yellow and bottle green striped shirt and hot pink trousers, a sharp contrast to his natural bright red hair. Don’t say that it can’t look that bright; you’ll never know just how blindingly bright bottle green can really be until you see the shirt my dad’s wearing. And trust me, he usually dresses in simpler tones; such bland tones that you’d be surprised to know he was capable of wearing colourful hues as well. It’s only that he’s very passionate about his job, and so whenever we set up a booth in fetes such as the current one, he never misses to match the shop logo.

‘Hul-lo, father dearest, how seems to go your day?’

‘Oh, quite lovely, if I do say so.’

‘Well, that’s simply charming –’

‘Alright, enough,’ my other, not redhead dad snaps with an exasperated sort of smile on his visage. You see, my not redhead, a.k.a. brown-haired dad happens to be British. And that means that me and dad would rather paint our teeth blue than to not tease him. ‘You both need to shut it and start helping me with the decorations, now. You know I’m trash at all that.’

‘Aw, now don’t get discouraged,’ I say, patting dad on the back. ‘After all, not everyone can be as blessed as me, can they?’

‘Hey, why don’t you go look around for a bit? You’ve been helping out since before I have.’

‘Yeah, he’s right, pet. You should.’

I huff, rubbing my palms on the fabric of my jeans. ‘You guys sure? I’m not tired, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘We’re not worried, we’re just saying you should also get a look, you know? There’s a lot of surprising booths this time around. I mean, there are aliens participating too, so…’

‘Hmm,’ I play with my bottom lip a little, then, ‘yeah, okay. I’ll be back in like, an hour? Forty five minutes? Sound okay?’

‘Sounds great.’

‘Bye, then.’ And with that, I turn on the heels of my Converse, wandering about the pretty stalls and eager children and kissy couples and aliens with curious features.

It really feels bizarre, just how astonishingly fast mankind has accepted the existence of aliens. It seems simultaneously ages and just a day before when conspiracy theorists raged all around the world, presenting baseless theories and concepts as to why and how the three-man squad on the Kerberos mission disappeared. Then came the Galra, bringing along with them global terror – because alien life, intelligent alien life existed and humanity remained oblivious all these millennia, and now they were actually attacking us. It could’ve been, perhaps even was, in some other dimension, the end of Earth. But then a defender appeared; Voltron appeared in all its glory, bringing along with it proof that however much these purple aliens claim that humans are scum of the universe, humans were, in the grand scheme of things, the ones that saved the universe too.

It feels even more puzzling to actually be on a first-name basis with the leader of Voltron; that’s right, I’m personally acquainted with Keith Kogane. It was around six months after him leaving the Garrison did I come across him. He’d been loitering around the neighbourhood, had ended up in a fistfight with some other kids, and along with that a split lip and bruised cheek. I’d been watching. When the fight ended, I (somehow) persuaded him to come along so that I could at the very least provide him with a band-aid.

Long story short, we’d bonded over how our moms were no-shows and how dads were the best and we became surprisingly close friends; the only difference was that after the death of his old man, he lived alone. I’d been adopted by my two current fathers. I told him about how when they’d initially adopted me, I was excruciatingly shy. I wouldn’t even come out of my room except meals. It was only when I came to know that they knew how to make candy floss had I timidly approached them if I could have some, because previously I’d always been grossed out at the thought of having to eat that. I’d overheard this group of kids saying that cotton candy was actually just dyed granny hair, so that’s where that came from.

I love cotton candy now. So much so, that even at the age of twenty-six, I will pout if someone takes some of mine without my permission. As if I’d ever allow them to.

Speaking of Keith, I haven’t seen him in years. We lost all contact when he turned eighteen, and then he went off into space, and even when he came back, I didn’t get a chance to meet him. I bear no ill will, though. He must have formed some close relationships. Our past friendship is comparatively much more trivial.

I spot a booth selling grilled corn. I instantly head there.

As I’m about join the crowd of humans and aliens who also want corn, a familiar call of my name leads me to pull a three sixty.

Lo and behold. Keith Kogane.

Despite him having obviously grown a lot, the face was still the same. I’m sure that, if he gets a split lip and bruise on his cheek right now, he won’t look all that different.

There’s a questioning hesitance on his features; he’s probably wondering if he’s got the right person. My pleasantly surprised smile and raised eyebrows assure him. As I step away from the grilled corn stall, I notice a motley crowd behind him; some are purple, some are holding Voltron plushies, and some look way too curious to be in a carnival. The introduction is going to be fun.

‘Keith! You're gonna live a hundred years - I was just thinking about you. But anyways, it’s – it’s great to see you,’ I say with a little giggle. ‘Though I am kind of surprised you actually approached me. The sixteen-year-old you would never.’

He smiles awkwardly in return. ‘Y – yeah… I, just… oh God, this is – I’m sorry,’ he says, his inner turmoil evident.

‘It’s all good. I know you’re shit at small talk, so… like, introduce me? Maybe?’

He nods rapidly, brows furrowed. ‘Yeah, um,’ he turns to the people behind him, telling them my name, how we met, the whole affair. I give them a wave. Most of them greet me back.

‘And, this is Shiro and Curtis,’ he points to the tall, white-haired yet young man, holding hands with a tanner guy, ‘Lance, Pidge and Hunk,’ he points to a lanky, bright-smiled guy, a buffer, kind-seeming person, and a short chestnut-haired woman who, despite wearing baggy jeans and a baggier tee, looks somehow better dressed than me. ‘Then that’s Allura, Coran, and Romelle, they’re Alteans,’ a woman with enchanting beauty and a regal aura surrounding her, a redhead who’s significantly older than the rest with an impressive moustache, and a youthful appearing girl with a big grin, ‘and Lotor, he’s Galran. The Galran Emperor, in fact.’ Lotor is a tall, lilac-skinned man with aristocratic features who shares the same cheek markings as the Alteans. Oh, and he’s unfairly gorgeous, his hair a luscious mane of white which I just know will be soft. It’s hard not to stare. You remember how I said Allura looked like royalty? Yeah, the way this man carries himself, he has the aura and visage of a God. Even in a white tee-shirt and jeans he looks way better than should be legal.

I rip my eyes away.

‘So…are Noah and Oliver here too? I’d love to see them. I mean, I never did get to thank them to permit a possible criminal to sleep in their house.’

I laugh. ‘Never mind that, but we actually sit up a stall here. I could, you know, maybe even get you guys something to eat.’

‘Free? Please don’t.’

‘It’s nothing, really, just… I don’t know, accept it as a small thank you present for not letting the planet go to shit.’

A bit of thinking. Even after a nod from Shiro, it was Lance who said yes. Good ol’ Keith.

When we reach the stall, my British dad is the only one we find there. He looks up, about to say something to me, when he notices Keith.

‘Dad. You remember Keith?’

‘Your possible criminal friend who turned out to be the saviour of the universe Keith?’

‘That Keith. He wanted to see you.’

‘Oh? Well then,’ he dusts his hands, stands up, and greets Keith. Both of them engage in a conversation.

‘You guys wanna try something?’

‘What do you got?’ asks Pidge.

‘What do we got? Um, we got chocolates, candy, marshmallows, jellybeans, tortilla chips, ice cream, popcorn – butter, cheese, caramel, peri peri – Lays, like, a lot of Lays, and the good old cotton candy. What d’you want?’

So, after providing the humans with two Cream n’ Onion Lays, a pack of tortilla chips, a double scoop of butterscotch and chocolate, a small tub of popcorn, and three cotton candy sticks, I turned to the aliens.

‘I’m assuming you guys aren’t familiar with a lot of this stuff, so you could either pick whatever looks to be good, ask your friends, or I could recommend something. What’ll it be?’

Romelle was the one who asked, ‘What’s ice cream like?’

‘It’s sweet. It’s cold. And it’s like… heaven in mouth.’

‘Ooh. I want an ice cream. The… pink one?’

‘That’s strawberry. You can eat it in a cone, or in a cup.

‘What’s the difference?’

‘Well, the cup you can’t eat. The cone is like a crispy biscuit,’ judging by her face, she didn’t know what biscuit was. ‘I’ll just give you a cone. It’s all on the house, so no worries if you don’t like it.’

I watched eagerly as she licked the ice cream. An unreadable look crossed her face. Then – ‘This is almost as good as Hunk’s cookies!’

‘Really?’ Coran asked, twirling his moustache. ‘Well, then…’ he squinted to read the names of the various flavours. ‘I would like “cookies and cream”. Yes.’ A cone of cookies n’ cream was served.

‘Allura?’

‘Do you have something that isn’t sweet?’ That was a plot twist. I’d have taken her as someone who appreciated sweeter foods.

‘We do. You want spicy?’

‘…Sure.’ Peri Peri popcorn was given and enjoyed.

And last… ‘Lotor. What would you like to have?’

It takes me a lot of will to not laugh at Lotor’s way too analytical expression. ‘What would you recommend?’

‘Me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Out of all this stuff, candy floss is my favourite.’

‘Candy floss… the item that looks simultaneously like a cloud and an old woman’s hair?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I would like a helping of candy floss, then.’

As I hand Lotor a stick of cotton candy, I wait with anticipation for his reaction.

‘How am I supposed to eat this?’

It takes me a moment to process that. ‘Uh, you just… pinch a little of the stuff in between your fingers, then eat it. Or you could just, um, go in directly, which I’m thinking isn’t really your style.’

He narrows his eyes, but follows my instructions nonetheless. Only a second after putting the stuff in his mouth, Lotor purrs.

Everyone around him, being me, Coran and Romelle (Allura’s off telling Lance how great Earth food is), looks with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Lotor appears as if he’s just died inside. The berry-shaded blush on his face is adorable, though.

'I didn't, like, poison you or something, right?'

'No. It's that... I would never in my lifetimes have expected something so tooth-rottingly sweet to be this delicious.'

'So you're okay?'

‘Yes. In fact, I quite like… this cotton candy.’

I grin.

[glitteryhellhole]

alright lets do this

here we go

Title: The Tent Fandom: Z nation Pairing: 10K x female reader Word count: approx 3k Rating: 18 Description: fluffy smut with awkward cinnamon roll 10K

A gas station. A real life, untouched gas station. Apart from the bloody handprints smeared on the concrete walls.

It didn't take long to sweep and secure the area, then fill up the truck and the reserve cannisters. Afterwards Warren gestured with her gun to the convenience store. “Look for anything useful.”

The place had been untouched since day one. Mummified hot dogs still sitting on a rack. The register hanging open- perhaps in the beginning some people had looted cash, but it didn't take long to realise money didn't mean anything anymore.

You shoved bottles of water and packets of candy into your rucksack before following Addy's gaze to the toiletries shelf. Pads and tampons, little travel-sized bodywashes, an actual toothbrush.

“It's a whole new kind of mercy,” she whistled.

You picked up the first aid kit and the two crushed boxes of painkillers, turning to ask Doc if they'd be any good- and found him and Murphy kneeling on the counter, pulling away the plastic panel which guarded the cigarettes.

Priorities, huh.

Loaded up, you looked around you. Warren was on watch so 10K had let his guard down for once and was poking at the faded magazines. You saw his pink lips move as he mouthed the titles to himself. Something familiar caught his eye, probably the one with guns all over, and he reached up- and the whole top shelf came tumbling down. Suddenly 10K was surrounded by glossy double-page spreads of unnaturally bronzed and perky breasts and butts.

He froze like an animal in a trap.

“Found what you're looking for?” Doc's voice was loud and his arms were cradling an impressive quantity of alcohol. “There's a lot of generic lesbians, over forties, asian fetish, but for a beginner I'd recommend-”

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a crash as 10K backed rapidly out of the shop, cheeks ablaze, taking down a stand of air fresheners and sending sunglasses skittering across the floor in every direction.

The rest of you laughed, for the first time in a while. Back in the truck and passing round bags of only-slightly-stale chips, you all agreed that the gas station was your best find in quite some time.

Except perhaps for the tent.

A little way back, a stranded family had been incredibly grateful for a tow out of the ditch, and had gifted you their spare tent. No ordinary camping gear, this thing was foil-lined and had a built in waterproof, cushioned underlayer. On an especially hot night you'd probably want it to yourself but the rest of the time it comfortably housed two people, keeping in the heat. You'd been taking turns each night, with priority to the injured, meaning that every morning there was at least one person who was fully rested and recharged. Ideal when every day was a battle for survival.

Of course, there was one other advantage to the tent. Privacy. Human needs didn't really get talked about in this un-human world, and whatever got overheard in the night would also go unspoken.

It was nearing dusk and you were pulling over to make camp. “Who's turn in the tent?” Murphy called out as he threw himself down on the ground. “Dibs.”

Warren, who was unloading a heavy bag, gave him a kick in the side. “Get up and help. I don't think 10K's had a turn yet.”

“Neither's she.” He nodded at you.

“Settled then.”

Murphy sniggered.

Since there was plenty of water, there was a rare chance to wash up a bit. Ladies first while the men stood watch with their backs turned, and then vice versa. Nowhere near to having a hot shower in privacy, but it was something. You noticed that 10K didn't bother putting his shirt back on afterwards as he squatted by the fire cleaning his weapons, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

How could somebody so skinny be so strong? Must be the result of life outdoors.

He raised an eyebrow and you realised you were staring. Oops.

“Here.” Somebody passed you a can of cheap beer that had come from the store along with the snacks and cigarettes. It was almost like being at a camp-out. The beer was gross but it gave you a nice warm feeling in your chest, and the idea of lying down somewhere soft started to seem quite appealing, so you said your goodnights and retreated into the tent.

You weren't sure how long it was until you were joined, perhaps you'd started to drift off- the sound of the zip jolted you back to your senses as 10K flopped unceremoniously into the tent, stretching out next to you. “Beer makes shoelaces hard.” He complained.

You giggled and sat up to help. “When was the last time you slept without shoes on?”

“Probably before my voice broke.” He scratched his head while watching you remove his boots and then said, “I'm not good at talking, especially to girls, but you don't scare me.”

“Thanks for the compliment, I think?” You laid back down, closing your eyes and pulling your blanket over you. There was silence for a minute but it was oddly comfortable, the security of a warm person breathing next to you.

“What was your first word?” You asked into the silence. “I bet it was gun.”

“Actually it was primrose.”

“Huh?”

“My momma's favourite flower.” He rolled over onto his stomach, closing the gap between you, and rested his cheek on his folded arms. “I was six. Doctor said I wasn't learning but I was paying attention to everything. She used to take me to the library in town to look at all sorts of books, that where we learned to sign.”

You couldn't help but ask. “When did she...?”

“When I was nine. Pops wanted me to try and be a normal kid but once she'd gone he didn't want anything to do with the rest of the world and stopped sending me to school.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's ok.” He wriggled a little to get more comfortable. “Can you talk for a bit now?”

So you talked about your own parents, and your hometown, and it surely wasn't very interesting but 10K watched you intently as he sobered up, studying your face, and you hoped you weren't blushing. After a while you came to a natural conclusion in your story and realised that his fingers were twitching, as though he were nervous.

What's up?” you asked softly.

He blinked slowly. “Ain't always easy to tell when you're supposed to say stuff and when you're not.”

Unsure what to expect, you gave him an encouraging nod.

“Can I... touch your hair?”

Your heart started to beat a little fast and you nodded again. 10K's fingers reached out timidly to feel you hair, twisting strands and brushing them away from your face.

You hadn't felt human touch in so long, and you couldn't help but rest your head on his arm as he stroked. The pair of you seemed to breathe in unison. It was almost peaceful.

Almost. Apart from the little sparks of electricity that seemed to fizzle into life where your skin touched his.

Could he feel it too? It didn't seem so. There he was growing more and more serene, while you were   warming up in a way that had nothing to do with the insulated tent.

“Um...” You fidgeted awkwardly, trying to choose the right words. “10K? You know why they were giggling right?”

“Uh-huh.” His eyes were closed. “People do stuff in the tent. Its pretty obviously I've never... y'know.”

“Does it bother you?”

“A bit, but its not like I can go meet a girl and ask her Pops if I can take her to the barn dance.”

You couldn't help but laugh a little. “I mean the teasing.”

“Oh.” He blushed slightly as he opened his eyes to look at you. “I get why, you're near my age and you're pretty. Any guy would be lucky to date you.”

Oh indeed. Maybe he did feel it then.

“You could...” You bit your lip and steeled yourself. “You could pretend that you were.”

He sat bolt upright, making you jump, and a wide grin spread across his face. “I could ask you on a picnic, at my favourite place in the woods.” His words were tumbling out fast from nervous excitement. “Make nice bread, Mom's special recipe with the dried fruit. And we could talk like we did earlier and I could pick you flowers and then I could kiss you.”

His lips were clumsy as they first met yours, but eager, and didn't take long to find a groove. You sighed and leaned in, one hand reaching up into his hair, and-

A single gunshot cracked through the air.

In an instant 10K was lurching for the tent entrance where his gun was propped. You reached for your shoes, panic rising in your chest.

“False alarm.” Doc's voice came from outside. “Nothing to worry about. Hey, you okay in there kid? Need me to give ya a quick pep talk on anything?”

“I'm good.” He zipped the flap back up then turned back to you. “Actually do you think maybe I should? I don't really know what to do.”

You couldn't help but laugh again. He was way too innocent for someone so good-looking.

You put and hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.  “Just do what feels natural.”

“Okay.” He gave you another wide grin, showing those adorably crooked teeth, and then practically launched himself at you, so you landed on your back and he was on top of you, lips moulding to the shape of yours. You gasped for air and 10K made an apologetic sound without pausing the kiss, propping himself up on one elbow so that you could breathe.

His hand rested on your stomach, fingers still for a moment before balling up your shirt and gently navigating the exposed skin. Tentative. Like soothing a spooked animal.

You reached your hand up to touch his shoulders, feeling hard muscle under surprisingly soft skin. Tracing his collarbones and around the back of his neck. He shivered and broke the kiss, and you saw his tongue dart out to wet his lips.

“Maybe I could take your shirt off too.” He mumbled. In answer you sat up and held your arms above your head. 10K pulled your shirt over your head- sending the little lamp tied to the tent roof swinging- then looked confused as his thumb hooked into the shoulder strap of your sports bra. You kind of wished you'd been wearing something nicer for this occasion, but you'd dressed for practicality before hitting the road.

“Here. Let me.” You wriggled out of the bra, trying not to elbow him in the process.

“Wowee.” 10K let out a whistle. “You look even better without clothes on. Why would anyone want to look at random pictures?”

It seemed like he could have sat there and stared forever, but you didn't have forever, and so you pulled him in to kiss again. He trailed his lips across your face and on to your neck, one arm supporting you from behind and the other hand landing on your chest, squeezing experimentally.

“Not so hard,” you gasped.

“Sorry. They're squishier than I expected.” He let out a humming noise into the crook of your neck as his fingers found a hard nipple and brushed back and forth.

You dipped your head down too, lightly touching your teeth to his throat. A low growl escaped and he pushed you back down, pressing his body close to yours, and you could feel his eager hardness against your hip.

10K tried the same move, nipping at the skin under your ear. His breathing was very shallow and rapid as he licked and sucked experimentally, moving down over your breasts.

“You taste good. But not in a zombie way.”

Your hands rested on his hips, fingers splaying out to softly squeeze his ass and then dipping below the loose waistband.

“Oh, wait.” He rolled off you to shed a pile of concealed knives and the little sharp discs that he used in the sling shot.

“What else are you hiding down there?” You smirked. For a moment he turned beetroot red and covered his crotch with his hands, but then met your smile with one of his own.

“Just means I like you and I like this.” He shrugged. “Do you-”

“Mmhmm.” You reached out to ease his trouser buttons undone, fumbling slightly, but you weren't nervous. It just felt right with him. “I like you. And I like this.”

He groaned softly as the restriction on his hardness eased and grabbed you for another kiss, this time hungry and slightly sloppy. 10K's fingers found the fastening of your own jeans and made quick work, tugging them down to your knees. Then he paused for a moment, putting a finger to your lips.

There was no noise from outside.

“We're good.” With a bit of awkward shuffling, you both shed your trousers and then looked at each other.

“We probably shouldn't go all the way,” you said almost reluctantly. “No protection and all that. But there's still stuff-”

“Anything.” 10K blurted out without a second's pause. “Everything. I'll do whatever you want. But not what you don't want.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips again as he stared at you earnestly.

You felt a shiver travel down your spine. Nobody had ever looked at you quite like that before. Not just lust but something deeper, as though he was seeing through your skin and right inside you.

“Come here,” he whispered huskily, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap. You sighed into the kiss and slowly moved your hips, letting your centre rub against his as you straddled him, tangling fingers in his messy hair.

10K moaned something that sounded like “shucks” and you couldn't help but snort. What would it take to make him swear? You dug your nails in a little, catching his lip between your teeth.

“Want to touch you.” He moaned, gripping your hips. “Want you to touch me.”

You trailed your hand from his cheek all the way down to cup the pronounced bulge in his boxers and his eyes rolled back in his skull, but then he visibly shook himself and swatted your hand away. “Ladies first.” The hand slid a little clumsily down into your knickers.

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against 10K's, feeling how hot his skin was. His curious fingertips traced your labia and in between.

“It's wet.” He sounded surpised, and brought a thumb to his mouth to taste.

“That's a good thing.” You felt a little self-conscious as you explained, watching him suck his thumb. “It means I'm, you know, turned on.”

“Show me how to make it feel good,” he murmured, lifting you off his lap and laying you back down before tugging your knickers all the way down and spreading your legs.

You took his hand in yours and guided him, showing him your clit. His marksman fingertips quickly picked it up and he kissed you again as he touched you. “Am I doing it right?”

“Yeah you're- oh, yeah thats good.” Your voice was high-pitched and breathy. 10K made a satisfied “hmph” and nuzzled into your neck. He smelled of safety. Less dirt and blood than usual, traces of soap, whatever he was using for hair gel, engine oil. Sweat but not in the just-been-running-and-fighting way, in the musky hormonal way.

The feeling swelling inside you was something you hadn't experienced, hadn't even thought about, in a long time. But here and now it was growing, consuming, and you couldn't imagine anything other than his touch, his hot breath on your cheek.

“Hey.” 10K's voice was husky again. “You need something else?”

You became aware that your hips were twitching. “A bit faster maybe?”

A moan escaped your lips as he obliged, and 10K grinned. “That's hot.” Then he cocked his head to one side, raising his eyebrows. “I assume girls can- y'know-”

“It looks a bit different but yes.” You were gasping now as you spoke, chest rising and falling.

“Do it for me.” He murmured, watching you as though hypnotised and biting his lip. His words and his gaze loosened the coiled spring that was weighing down your abdomen and the endorphins came rushing as you climaxed.

“Shh.” He pressed his mouth to yours and swallowed your moan, pressing his fingers harder as you moved beneath him until it became almost too much. “Do you want them to hear us?”

You shook your head, trying to control your breathing.

“Maybe you do.” He raised an eyebrow again as his fingers finally slowed to a halt. “I kinda do. So they all know what I just did to you.”

“Do you want your turn or not?”

That shut him up. He glanced down and you followed his gaze. He was still very much erect, and there was now a distinct wet patch where he'd leaked a little in excitement.

You pushed 10K onto his back and settled yourself next to him. “Let me know if something's not ok,” you told him. “I won't do anything you don't want.”

He nodded and closed his eyes. He flinched a little as you pulled his boxers down but then his face relaxed and his lips parted as you touched him.

“Have you done this to yourself?” You asked. “So you know what you like.”

He nodded, looking somewhat bashful. “A few times. But this is different. Better.”

It was your turn to grin as your fingers circled his erection and found a rhythm. 10K's head tilted back and the smallest of high-pitched noises escaped his open mouth. You lowered your lips to his exposed neck and sucked gently at the skin. There was a red mark when you pulled away.

“Mmmph.” He rasped through gritted teeth. “Again.”

“It'll leave a bruise.”

“Don't care.”

You began to create a trail of little hickeys down his throat and across his collarbones as you continued to stroke, and his tiny whimpers grew more frequent. You knew it wouldn't be long.

10K was holding onto you tightly, nails digging in, droplets of sweat visible on his forehead. “I think I'm gonna- ahh....” He seemed to lose the ability to speak as you attacked his neck again, eyes rolling back. A few moments later, his hips bucked and you could feel hot sticky warmth coat your fingers.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

So he did swear after all.

You kissed him again, and then looked down. “Um, got anything to clean up with?”

Still breathing heavily, 10K sat up and reached for his trousers, pulling a bandana out of one of the many pockets. “It's my least favourite. I'll burn it.”

Like the gentleman he'd been raised to be, he wiped your hand off first before tending to himself, then tossed the soiled cloth out of the way and pulled you close. You rested your head on his chest. You'd heard the term 'afterglow' but never really thought that it was a thing; it apparently was. The chemicals your brain was releasing and the protective hold of his arms made you want to laugh, and cry, and drift off to sleep, and run a mile, all at once.

Just for a moment, there was no apocalypse. There was only you and him and the little lamp above your heads.

It was 10K who broke the spell. “I need to pee.” he said apologetically. “Like, real bad.”

You laughed at the face he was pulling and threw his trousers at him. 10K slithered with some difficulty into them, kicking the side of the tent, and then stumbled outside.

You realised how cold it was now and reached for your own clothes. As footsteps indicated 10K's return, you could have sworn you heard the sound of a high-five.

“What was that?” You demanded as he re-entered the tent.

“Never mind.” He grabbed the blanket and laid it over you.”I  want to do that again. But we should probably get some sleep.”

“The whole point of the tent is to get proper rest right?” You scooted closer as he laid down, offering the blanket, but he refused, tucking it round you and then wrapping his arms round too so you were tightly cocooned against his side.

“Yeah. Sure.”

>>>>>Thanks for reading! This is the first fanfic i’ve done in literally years. Open to feedback and even perhaps requests :) PS i am v english so I apologise to any Americans insulted by my attempts at your words

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 6: Fan

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[masterlist]

 “And that’s how you cook rice,” Kita says as he puts the pot in the rice cooker. You nod, embarrassed. You settle back on the floor. hiding your face from the two boys as they talk about how their friends. Osamu’s phone starts ringing so he answers it and a loud voice speaks.

“Bro! (Y/N) really lives with Shinsuke?” The caller says in awe so you look at Osamu. He turns the camera to you and you wave your hands, mouthing a hi. “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!”

“Aran, calm down. You act like it’s your first time meeting a celebrity,” Osamu tells the person on the line.

“I can talk to him if he wants to,” you offer to Osamu which Aran hears loud and clear. You hear him shuffle around before Osamu gives you the phone. You greet him with a smile, forgetting about the rice incident. “Hello, Aran-san. Is that right?”

“Yes. I’m a big fan! Actually my whole team is! We watch your vlogs on our breaks,” Aran rambles, making you smile. Interacting with fans is something that helps you cope up with your stress, and knowing that you got a group of athletes as your fans, makes you feel overwhelmed, but in a good way.

“Really? It’s nice to hear that you enjoy my videos. I’ll upload more content soon,” you reply, the smile not leaving your face.

“Who are you talking to?” You hear someone ask from the background.

“(Y/N),” Aran replies excitedly.

“You might have gone crazy,” the other man replies.

“No! I’m serious! Look!” Aran flips his phone to who he’s with, revealing you on the screen. You awkwardly bow then wave.

“It is her! How did you-? Does she have a fan event or something! Hello, (Y/N). I just finished watching the vlog you uploaded yesterday,” the man tells you, coming in close to the camera. “I’m Gao!”

“Hi, Gao-san! It’s nice meeting you!” You greet him cheerfully and the three of you continue to talk.

Kita and Osamu just watch you talk to them. They feels like an online fan signing is happening in front of them. The two of them continue to talk on their own. Minutes later, Osamu hears the rice cooker’s alarm go off so he stands up and gets the rice, leaving you and Kita alone on the table.

You are still talking to the boys, which have now turned into a whole team.  Kita observes you carefully. The way you smile on the phone as if they’re really in front you is making him feel weird inside. And you’re really listening to what they’re saying, which is making that already weird feeling even weirder.

‘Am I becoming a fan?’ Kita asks himself, unsure of what he’s feeling.

“The rice is here,” Osamu announces as he puts the pot at the side.

“I have to leave now,” you tell the men in front of you. “It was fun talking to all of you. And I promise to go to one of your games one day. Bye!” You wave at the phone. You hear a chorus of good byes before you end it. You give the phone back to Osamu, apologizing to him for using his phone.

“It’s okay. You seemed like you were enjoying talking to them,” he remarks, sitting across you.

“Yeah. I love talking to fans,” you say confidently, smiling at Osamu. And there is it again, the weird feeling Kita is new to.

‘Maybe I am becoming a fan,’ he tells himself, getting rice from the pot. “How much rice do you want?” Kita suddenly asks you. Your mind short circuits from his question. It’s not a big deal and even back home, someone does it for you but since Kita is the one doing it the rice feels extra special.

“I think that’s enough,” you answer as he shows you the bowl of rice. He hands it to you and you accept it with both of your hands.

The three of you eat and talk. You ask them questions about their friendship, and you learn that Kita used to play volleyball. You also find out that Kita stopped studying after high school so he can provide for his grandmother. The more you know about him, the more you start to like him despite being the complete opposite of your ideal type.

You see Osamu out while Kita offers to do the dishes. As Osamu’s car leaves,  you hear a dog bark. You look around the parking area, searching for the source of sound. You spot white fur by the bushes so you slowly approach it. Suddenly, a small white dog jumps on you, making you yelp in surprise. After you’ve regained composure, you properly hold the dog.

“Hi, there, little...” You lift him up and check its genital. “Boy. You’re a little boy. Are you lost?” You nuzzle your nose on its nose, shaking the dogs body slowly. You take a better look at him.

He has a puffy long coat which is snowy white, but his ears are grey. He has amber eyes and a very smiley face. He looks like an extra tiny fox. He’s small so you assume that he’s a puppy. You look for a collar or any tag, but you don’t see any. You can’t say that it’s Kita’s neighbor’s dog, because he doesn’t have one. The closest house to his is at least a 5 minute drive.

You stare at him intently, wondering why he looks familiar. Then you finally know who he looks like.

“You look like, Kita,” you coo, bopping its nose. It licks your nose in return so you giggle. “Want to meet Kita?” He barks in response, which you take as a yes. You carry him inside excitedly, not taking in mind about Kita’s reaction to the strange furry animal.

You finally step in the kitchen where Kita is and you proudly show him your new found friend. Kita drops the fork he was washing, totally frozen on his spot. Why are you carrying a dog in his house? Where did you even get that dog?

“What’s that?” Kita asks you, picking up the fork he dropped.

“It’s a dog!” You answer with a proud smile. “Isn’t he cute?”

“Where did you get that thing?” He looks so horrified and grossed out. If anything, he’s ready to throw the dog out of his house.

“I saw him outside. He doesn’t have a collar or any tag on so I brought him inside,” you reply with an innocent tone so he takes a deep breath in.

“What makes you think you can just bring any animal in my house?” His voice is louder than a while ago so you frown. “Bring it back to wherever you found it.”

“No! Look at him! He’s so small! What if a car runs over it?” You gasp, hugging the dog even tighter. Kita looks at you in disgust.

“That’s his destiny,” he remarks but you ignore him. “This is my house, you know. And I don’t want animals in here.” You and the dog stare at him with puppy eyes but he just gags. “You take it out of my house now.”

“But-”

“No more buts. My house, my rules,” he tells you firmly, but you don’t back down.

“Can we let him stay inside just for tonight? I promise I’ll find him a home by tomorrow!” You beg him.

“Nope.”

“Please, Kita!”

“No.”

“Please. Please. Please. Pretty please.”

“Still no.”

“It’s just for tonight. Right, boy?” You ask the puppy and he barks. “See? He’s a good boy.” Kita groans, defeated. You’re even more persistent than the twins, and those two are tenacious as hell.

“Fine. As long as it doesn’t make a mess and noise, he can stay. Just for tonight. I’ll be the one bringing him to the compound tomorrow,” Kita finally agrees but you don’t like his idea.

“Compound? No! I’ll find him a good home myself,” you argue once again. Kita sharply looks at you, but you don’t seem moved or afraid by it. “I’m searching for a home now.” You put the dog on the ground and run to your room to post a picture of him online.

The furry animal and Kita stare at each other for a long time. “Why does he look like someone I know?” Kita questions, tilting his head to the side. The dog mirrors his action. “Osamu when he had grey hair? Or that guy from MSBY?”

“I’ve found a name for him!” You shout, sliding your feet back to the kitchen.

“You’re supposed to look for an owner, not a name,” Kita snaps at you. You ignore his words and pick the dog up and stretch your arms towards Kita’s direction, presenting him the dog.

“Rice. Let’s name him Rice,” you state and he turns around, completely in disagreement with your plans. You put Rice down and move closer to Kita. “It’s a cute name! It suits him. He even looks like you! Rice is just the most suitable name.” Kita grimaces at how you compared him to a dog.

“You’ve only been here for a few hours, and in that few hours you’ve made porridge and brought a strange dog in.” Kita faces you, the distance between the two of you small but safe.

“I’m sorry...” You lower your head, frowning. You hear him sigh so you look back up anxiously.

“I’ll go to the vet tomorrow and see if he’s chipped and has an owner. If he doesn’t, he can stay here. But you need to take care of him,” Kita tells you, giving in to your pleads. ‘Why do I feel like I have a child?’

Out of excitement, you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him. Once you’ve realized what you’ve done, you pull away from him then run back to your room, Rice following you.

“Why did I do that?” You groan, your face buried on your pillow. Rice barks and you see him sit across you. You smile widely, a blush creeping on your cheeks as you remember the hug again. “He’s so warm!” You squeal like a teenage girl. You start rolling on the floor, muffling your squeals and shrieks on the pillow. “He smells even better up close.”

Meanwhile, Kita is back to washing the dishes, but is completely distracted. He can’t stop thinking about your hug. The thought of your hug turns into a smile. Then, it becomes your voice. After that, it’s your face. ‘She’s cute.’ He finds himself smiling while washing the dishes.

He finally realizes what the weird feeling is.

‘Do I like her?’

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Facts:

Dogs noses are wet to help absorb scent chemicals

Three dogs survived the Titanic sinking

Pomeranians weren’t always so little. They used to weigh as much as 20 to 30 pounds before being bred down in size by Queen Victoria of England.

Despite their small stature, they are famous for thinking they can take on big dogs with their little bark. This makes socializing a Pomeranian with other dogs important in order to avoid aggressive behavior.

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Taglist:  @vicassa  @ptv-hades  @steggy4ever  @booklover240  @toripersonalacc @mkazuyuh  @smoltiddygf  @adrasteiaxandromedaa @leinnah  @a-applepi @kellesvt @xxlightsaberxx  @youpieceofwasabi @bandolls @wheelzzzies @apollochjld @sakusa-simp @neomuxuxi @aquzairus @ynjimenez @sempiternal-amour  @tnu-ree @mindofess @alittlebitofrain @agaashesmilktea​ @aquzairus @ynjimenez @sempiternal-amour @diyosku @dinablossom @atomicpie1115 @lililiynx @onlyshinji @melodiamore @bunnybitesthedust @angrylittleriri

[rommahh]

Blanket Forts and Promises

{This is apart of the fratrry universe I wrote two parts of. It can be read without the prior two works but like...wheres the fun in that. I just wanted to write something short and sweet. There will be more of these two. Love, R.}

Word count: 1.2 k

Read I Carry Your Heart here

Spring break. Literally the best time for any college student. At least thats what its supposed to be. Harry and Y/N were supposed to be on their flight to the nice and sunny Florida until a huge tropical storm hit. It was so bad that hundreds of flights going into Florida were cancelled. Y/N was devastated by the news of her flight cancellation. She was so excited to be on a beach with her bubs. She couldn't wait for swimming with him, yummy tropical dinners with him, she couldn't wait to do...things with him…in their beautiful hotel room. In all she just couldn't wait to spend a beautiful non-school related trip with her boyfriend.

Y/N sighed as she hung up the phone with an airline representative who helped her receive her refund on the plane tickets. She laid on her bed back at the farm watching as the rain poured outside. Her school did not allow for students to stay on campus during breaks unless they had special circumstances- leaving Y/N to come home. Harry was back on campus in the frat house. Y/N would have stayed with him, but the frat house was the worst place to be right now. It was gross there, having been completely run down by boys.

“Y/N! Can you get me one of the brooms from the guest house? Take the truck so you don't get wet!” Y/N heard her mom yell at her. ‘Get the broom?’ Y/N thought confused. Why would her mom need the broom from the guest house. Deciding not to question her mom, Y/N threw on her thick rain jacket and mud boots before grabbing the truck keys and driving over to the guest house.

The guest house was a mile out from the main house and barn. Between the house was a field containing whatever crop her dad was growing. The animals on the farm roamed on that piece of land as well. Parking the truck on the gravel outside of the house, Y/N rushed inside to grab the broom her mother ‘drastically needed.’

Y/N’s mouth dropped in shock as she walked into the open concept house seeing a large blanket fort covering the entirety of the living room. Hearing the door slam, Harry crawled out from the mass of blankets, a smile on his face seeing his girl's shock.

“Harry? What are you doing here? Oh my gosh what is this?” She was amazed by the large fort, shoving her wet jacket and shoes off her body. Harry grabbed her arm pulling her into the fort. The fort was being held up by the two couches and a few stools from the kitchen. Sheets were used as the ceiling and plush quilts and comforters were used to pad the hardwood floors. In the middle of the spacious fort was a collection of pillows, snacks, fuzzy blankets, and Harry’s macbook and charger. Twinkle lights encompassed the tops of the fort, wrapping around from stool to stool. Y/N sat on the pillows in the middle of the fort looking around shocked.

“I know you are really upset about our trip to Florida so I wanted to do this for you. Also our anniversary is coming up so...yeah.” Harry sat beside her rubbing her thigh as the girl took in her surroundings. Suddenly she leaped out of her seat tackling Harry down onto the blanketed floor.

“Harry, you are so sweet. I love it but how’d you even do this?” She layed on top of his chest chin resting on her hands as his hands rested on her lower back.

“I called your grandmother and asked her if there was anywhere in town to stay because I knew Florida would get cancelled and she told me to just set up here. She actually bought all of the snacks and found extra blankets and pillows. She knew how special I wanted this to be for you.” He softly spoke looking at her eyes filled with admiration.

“This is perfect bubs.” She kissed him, their lips moving together perfectly. She pulled herself further up his body. Leaning on her elbow beside his head, he turned his head to reach her for more kisses. She smiled into the kiss at his eagerness. He reluctantly pulled himself away from her.

“I actually bought you some new pajamas and fuzzy socks to wear tonight- they match mine.” He grinned cheekily. Pushing her off, he nudged her towards the small gift bag containing the clothes. She plucked the bag off of the floor crawling out of the fort to change.

She came back moments later in her matching pjs and socks as harry. The pjs had cute little puppies on it making Y/N giggle at the sight. She sat next to Harry as he scrolled through disney plus in search of the right movie.

“I think you're looking for Black Panther.” Y/N jokingly whispered in his ear. His laugh filled the fort.

“Oh am I, I could've sworn I was looking for tangled?” His eyebrow rose as he continued the banter. He clicked on Black Panther, setting the laptop on top of a stack of flat pillows. He started pulling the snacks over ready to chow down. “Your mom made us sandwiches to eat. I swear I would live with your mom and grandmother for the rest of my life if I could.” He moaned at the sight of the thick sandwiches.

They ate so much food from sandwiches, chips, and sweet tea, to pieces of cake and assortments of fruit. Harry laid back full of all of the junk he ate. Y/N rubbed his full stomach chuckling at his extraness. They laid together watching her favorite movie on top of those fluffy blankets and digesting their food. Eventually, as two horny adults do, they both started to get handsy. Harrys hands drifted down to hold her bum and her hands brushed the muscle that stretches into his goodies.

He turned his head to look down at her only to find her already staring at him. He closed the space making their lips touch. This kiss was sloppy and rushed. Tongues pushed and prodded each other as hands touched intimate places. And just like Y/N wanted...things happened.

The next morning, Harry woke up wrapped in the arms of his girl. Her bare chest warmed the side of his face as her arms cradled  his head- fingers interlocked with his hair. Their legs intertwined with each other. Harry never felt happier in his life being wrapped in his lover's arms having shared a night full of laughter and genuine love. He detached himself from the girl and reached into his backpack. He pulled out a small box- smaller than a bracelet box- and just stared at it. Opening the box, he pulled out the promise ring he had been saving up for since christmas. He used all of his Christmas money and did some extra paid tutoring on campus to buy the simple jewelry. Its band was a pretty gold color, two strands twisted with each other to come together making a knot. Sliding back over to Y/N he slowly lifted her left hand and slipped the ring on her finger watching it as ifit on her finger perfectly.

He wouldn't propose just yet but he could promise her a lifetime of love and a commitment to carrying her heart with him everywhere he goes.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for Friends to Lovers with Rodrick Heffley

Rodrick Heffley x reader

warnings: mentions of a bad home life

a/n: YALL I FUVKING DID IT AND IM TERRIFIED OF THE REPERCUSSIONS

prompt: y/n and rodrick have been friends for a long time, so long boundaries seem to be blurred

you’ve actually known rodrick since elementary school

it all started when he asked you to join his band

“i can play drums, you can play the tambourine because that’s the only other instrument i have! it’ll be wicked!”

your band lasted a week and only had one gig, it was for rodrick’s parents

who LOVED you by the way

they somehow permitted you to sleepover almost every other day, you practically lived at their house

FOR YEARS you did this

terrorizing lil greg

“what’s he gonna do, pee his diaper?”

“rodrick!!!”

always trick or treating together, exchanging candy when you got back go his house (or occasionally yours)

you guys didnt like hanging at your house, your parents were kind of....a lot to handle

starting middle school together, wreaking havoc on all the teachers

rodrick did it to impress you, according to mr. and mrs. heffley

but he’d give you a stupid little smirk from across the classroom after he got scolded so you believed them

whenever anyone gave you shit at school, rodrick wouldn’t hesitate to step in and show them who’s boss

“rodrick, you’re gonna get detention again!”

“yeah, well, i’m not gonna let them be mean to you”

you went to his house after school most days, sometimes you’d get there first while he was in detention

mrs. heffley had after school snacks

“y/n, why don’t you play some video games with greg while you wait for rodrick to get home?”

playing wii sports with greg, who cried when you won

you also had time to do homework while you waited, rodrick usually copied afterwards

when rodrick came home, he’d drag you to the garage to show you his drum skills

he hit himself in the head with his drumstick

“ooh, that’s gonna leave a mark”

next step was high school, which was a weird step up

but you guys had each other

you still spent most nights at the heffley residence, but you had to sleep on the couch instead of on the floor in the attic (aka rodricks lair)

“you two are growing up, so we think it’s best that you don’t sleep in the same room together, right?”

rodrick emptied one of his drawers for you to put your clothes in

but you still end up stealing his clothes half the time

“i wish i could be mad, but you wear all of my clothes better than me”

subconsciously doing couple-y things without realizing it

like rodrick would pull you closer to him when you two were together, put his arm around you, give you his jacket, etc

“are you guys serious? you’ve got to be dating!” -everyone

“rodrick, when are you and y/n going to get together?” -mr. and mrs. heffley

the answer was always the same: “we’re just friendssssss”

watching his band practice and cheering him on no matter what

you’re his guest vocals ☺️

when he got the van, it was a whole new world for you guys

you could go out wherever whenever

(with parent approval usually)

“wanna go ride around for a little while? hit a gas station and get a bunch of candy?”

“do you even have to ask?”

watching scary movies in his room

“platonic” cuddling in his bed

stuffing your face in the crook of his neck during scary scenes

“come on, y/n! it’s not that bad!”

him having to hold onto you for comfort so you’d keep watching with him

sometimes falling asleep together and his mom or dad coming to check on you later

“alright, time for bed! y/n, you get your usual couch...”

laughing your ass off at rodrick when he messes with greg

manny loves you, sometimes rodrick is jealous of the attention you give to his baby brother instead of him

rodrick scooping you up in his arms when you least expect it, never fails to make you scream

“hey there, hot stuff”

“you’re impossible!”

roller skating together, he held your hand the whole time bc he was worried you’d fall

his friends ENDLESSLY taunt him over your relationship

when he makes plans with others, he always says “let me ask y/n first” which just SENDS his friends oh my god

“dude, that’s your s/o!”

“no, they’re not! shut up!”

hating being apart a lot its so stressful

sometimes you’d have a pretty hard time at home and show up to his house at odd hours, but you were always welcome

you have your own key

“hey, what’s wrong?”

“my parents...they’re just the worst”

rodrick knows its bad when you start crying

he took you up to his room and played some music (quietly as not to wake the house)

you laid on top of him while he rubbed your back and told you that he was there for you

dozing off on him, as per usual

dude, the amount of pictures you have? astronomical

you playing his drums, the two of you going 🤘, an actual nice picture of you guys, him carrying you on his back, kiddos on your first day of school by year, you kissing his cheek “platonically”

comforting him when he was having his own hard times, whether it be an argument with his parents/greg, difficulties with musical inspiration, or anything else

“come here, you need a hug”

“i need several”

“you’ll get ‘em”

talent show! talent show! talent show!

you completely cussed out the rest of his band before they went on bc they had the audacity to replace him

but greg managed to save the day

“greg, my dude, give me a high five, that was awesome”

he wasn’t actually half bad but like, his mom kinda stole the show

more joyrides in the van

absolutely BLASTING the music in there while you and rodrick sat on the floor in the back and ate the taco bell you’d just picked up

“dude, you gotta try my potato griller, it’s a godsend”

“okay, but try this slushie, its so good. i mean, not as good as a 7-eleven slushie, but it’s up there”

finishing your food and laying in the van for another hour bc you just loved each other’s company

but after sitting together alone for so long, you felt like there was something left to do, what was it?

you and rodrick were moving around a bunch and ended up next to each other sitting against the wall of the van

you looked over at each other and hesitated before leaning in to kiss

and you guys kissed for a while

okay, so, you made out on the floor of his van with led zeppelin playing in the background

✨magical✨

it wasn’t awkward or anything, just long overdue

okay it was a little awkward actually

“well, that was” *clears throat* “that was cool or whatever”

“yeah...wanna do it again?”

“oh, for sure”

not like it was a surprise to anyone when you announced you were FINALLY dating

“wait, you guys just started dating? i thought you’d been together for like, at least 5 years” -mr. heffley

“this is great! obviously, we’ll need to set up some boundaries so that everyone is comfortable and safe, but yay for young love!” -mrs. heffley

“gross” -greg

mrs. heffley wrote a column in the newspaper about you titled “my teenage son’s fantastic significant other”

not much changed after you and rodrick got together, just kissing, “i love you’s” and more teasing from friends and school faculty

“we were all rooting for you two, actually!” -the teachers

summer vacation with him

it was always SWEET

going to the pool together, he’d usually lay out on the chairs with you but you were able to drag him into the pool a few times

“come onnnn, it’ll be funnnn”

“you’re lucky you’re cute”

hugs from behind!!! kisses on the top of ur head!!!!

PROM AH HAH HAH

seeing rodrick in a tux was too funny for you, you almost couldn’t stop laughing (especially at the eyeliner he insisted on wearing)

but he just couldn’t stop staring at you

“rodrick!”

“what?! you’re stunning!”

honestly, prom wasn’t all it was cracked up to be

you danced like maniacs for a few songs and ended up ditching early on

but you did end up renting a bunch of movies and getting tonssss of snacks and changing into pajamas as soon as you got to his house

im talking popcorn, candy bars, ice cream, cans of pop, chips, chicken nuggets and so on

and also passing out on each other

“i think i love you a little more, i didn’t know that was possible”

“i have that effect on people”

he makes u breakfast before his mom gets the chance though

“pancakes? for me?”

“i put chocolate chips in them too, you’re gonna love them”

(they were a lil bit burned, still good tho)

you guys really did just spot on get each other

okay but i know you also roast each other sometimes so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

relationship goals, honestly

fresh outta ideas 🤠 goodnight

[platypanthewriter]

Third Time's The Charm (Mindflayer: Take three)

Day Two of Harringrove AUgust, prompt:  Darkside AU

Billy’s eyelids felt as dry and crisp as potato chips as he tried to force them open. He could hear the shuffle of shoes against the linoleum, and the beeps and whirs of the hospital equipment, and then something brushed his face. Cool fingers.

“Open your eyes, William,” said Steve Harrington’s calm voice, and Billy jerked back in the bed, blinking at the dark shape hovering over him. His bandages tugged, and he flinched at the deep ache in his chest.

“Harrington,” he tried to say, but it came out more of a hoarse wheeze.

“I pushed you too hard before,” Harrington said, “—with no reward, but I think I know how you work, now. You want this boy, don’t you?”

“What,” Billy breathed, staring.

“You want him to pat you with his fleshy paws,” said the thing that was not Harrington, and Billy laughed sharply as Harrington’s hand stroked up his bare arm, and ran a thumb up his jaw. The thing smiled. “You want to taste his saliva.”

“Gross,” Billy choked out, shaking, but the thing leaned in, and Harrington’s lips were warm on his own.

“You will help me,” said the Mindflayer, pulling back, “—and you will have what you want.”

“Let him go,” Billy whispered, with no actual hope that it would. “What—what do you want?”

“You know what I want,” it said, and Billy’s stomach churned, remembering. “And if I don’t have it, I will—”

“Wait, I—I’ll do it,” Billy breathed.

It wasn’t hard to pick a victim—Billy’s dad may have been completely reasonable in hating his faggot son, but he was shitty to Max too, and Susan, and Billy’s mom—and there weren’t a lot of people he figured would listen to Billy Hargrove.

Problem was, Billy’s dad didn’t want to be lured out. Billy stared at the phone in the phone booth, thinking, and then tried saying he was injured at the abandoned drive-in theater on the edge of town—his car had broken down—and his dad just suggested he learn to not drink and drive.

As Billy tried to think of something more convincing to say, the Mindflayer grabbed the phone, and said “This is Steve Harrington, sir. We could really use your help. Bring the sheriff.”

There was a pause, and Billy knew his dad was repeating the name Harrington, like he always did talking about the richest family in town, the ones with the life he wanted, the people he wanted his family to match up to.

“See you soon,” said the Mindflayer, but it was frowning with Steve Harrington’s face, and Billy wondered whether Steve was the one who’d grabbed the phone.

 Billy’s dad didn’t take long, pulling up to the phone booth in the parking lot of the abandoned drive-through theater, and slamming the door of his car. He hadn’t brought the sheriff. Harrington grabbed his arm as he reached for Billy—and Billy didn’t have to watch, now, what the Mindflayer did with its victims.

He sat gripping one of the dilapidated benches, curled over to puke at the sounds, until he heard shoes scuff towards him again, and looked up to see a smile on Steve Harrington’s face. The Mindflayer knew which muscles to contract for a smile, Billy reflected distantly, but it didn’t look quite like a person, more like a doll, a ventriloquist’s dummy’s wide-stretched grin.

“Get up,” the thing said, and Billy staggered to his feet as his father—not his father, anymore, he reminded himself, another thing—drove away. The Mindflayer yanked him up when he didn’t move fast enough, nearly yanking his arm out of its socket as it slammed him against the bottom edge of the old projection screen. “Time for your reward. Take what you want,” it said. “Do you want to put things in his holes?”

“No!” Billy wheezed, wincing as it clenched Steve’s hand on his shoulder to hold him in place. He screamed as his collarbone broke under the force of its grip. It fixed Harrington’s mouth over his, hot and clumsy, and Billy tried to just let it happen, his brain a jumble of pain, lust, and terror as Harrington’s grip closed around his neck, and teeth clonked into his—until Harrington’s voice sounded different, suddenly, low and urgent.

“Let me,” he said. “Let me, let me, you’re killing him—you can’t—if you kill him, he can’t help you—”

“Harrington,” Billy gasped, choking for air, and then Harrington was really kissing him, one hand steadying Billy’s jaw, the other against Billy’s side, holding him steady as he staggered.

It was so good, Billy thought, his stomach twisting with revulsion, the pain of his broken collarbone making him pant as his eyes filled with tears.

“You taste like puke,” Harrington said, making a face, but he leaned in again, his brown eyes open as his lips met Billy’s and opened against them.

Billy moaned, a little—he couldn’t help it, not with Steve Harrington’s actual hands on him, and Steve’s tongue against his. Even possessed by a monster, Harrington looked kinda smug, and Billy hated him still, a little, for barely knowing Billy existed, and all the things Billy’d done by himself to survive, because he didn’t have anyone he could call.

Harrington had friends, Billy reminded himself. Billy didn’t need to think too hard about kissing Harrington, because Harrington’s friends would come, and they’d stop the Mindflayer, and help him, and Harrington wouldn’t come to himself a bloody mess at the mall, barely able to keep from murdering a child.

Somebody’d probably put a bullet in Billy’s brain, he thought, hissing in pain as Harrington shifted closer, and the broken edges of Billy’s collarbone scraped together. His brain filled with the white noise of pain, and he shuddered as he felt the new scraping agony of his collarbone, and the old, dull ache of his wound at the mall.

Harrington’s hands were careful, tipping Billy’s head to kiss him deeper.

His friends would kill the Mindflayer for good, Billy thought, humming a little hysterically against Harrington’s lips. They’d make sure Billy’s body didn’t get used again, either to transport a monster, or as leverage. All Billy had to do was keep the Mindflayer distracted, until then. Until they saved Harrington, and put Billy down.

“Enough,” came the still, calm voice from Harrington’s mouth, and the smile, as he stepped back.

“Who else do you want me to lure out here,” Billy asked, his hands flat against the wall of screen behind him to keep himself upright. The Mindflayer’s face twitched, and Billy wondered, his whole left shoulder and side pounding with pain, whether Harrington wished Billy’d let him die.

 The Mindflayer suggested Steve’s girlfriend, Wheeler. “We need him to stop fighting,” it said, smiling as it staggered and nearly fell. Billy walked away, breathing through the pain as he tried to get far enough away to call without the Mindflayer hearing.

He stepped into the phone booth and ruffled through the pages until he found Henderson—the kid he’d seen Steve with, the one whose name he was fairly sure of, because he hung around Max. “The Mindflayer has Harrington,” he said, flatly. “You gotta...trap him, or something. Better than you did me.”

“What in the hell,” the kid started, and Billy sighed.

“We’re at the drive-through theater,” he said. “He’s gonna be suspicious if I try to lure him anywhere.”

“Max has been looking for you,” Henderson said, and Billy bet she had.

“Hurry up and do something,” he said, watching the Mindflayer, in Steve Harrington’s body. It waved. “It’s gonna kill me,” he said, feeling a weird calm distance at the words, “—and I’m pretty sure he’s not gonna stop it, this time.”

“Shit,” Henderson said.  "We'll need some time to get ready."

“Oh, also,” Billy said, nearly high with pain, adrenaline, despair, and the taste of Harrington’s kisses. “I gave it my dad. That’s important, right?” he asked. “You probably need to know that too.”

“Holy shit, you fed it a person?! Your dad?!” Henderson yelled, and Billy nodded, running his tongue over his teeth as he sighed.

“Yeah, I’m a monster.” He snorted a laugh and hung up, wandered out to sit on the bench next to the Mindflayer, and watch the sunset. After a couple of hours of staring at the sky, he reached over and squeezed the Mindflayer’s wrist.

“You’ll let him go if I do everything you want?” he asked, and the Mindflayer smiled again.

Billy’d thought he’d be reassuring Harrington by asking—even if he didn’t believe for a second that the Mindflayer would just politely leave—but then he remembered that Harrington could probably tell the same thing, and that he, Billy, was a moron.

 When the sirens started, Billy winced. “I called the sheriff,” he said. “Told him I wanted to turn myself in. Told him I...took you.”

“The sheriff,” repeated the Mindflayer, focusing its unblinking stare down the road.

When the sheriff arrived, it wasn’t in his usual vehicle—it was a huge old Jeep, and he scrambled down with a groan, stretching until his back popped, and wiping sweat from his face. “Get in, boys,” he said, sighing, and jerking his thumb at the Jeep. When Billy was slow getting up—any motion of his arms flexed his collarbone, and his legs felt shaky on their own—the sheriff grabbed him by the shoulder.

Billy swallowed back a high noise in the back of his throat, realizing wildly that there was no reason to believe the Mindflayer had Harrington, no reason to believe him, only a waste of space they’d all seen possessed before, now making threatening phone calls. He closed his eyes, grimacing, and waited for the gasoline to soak him, or the muzzle of the gun to be pressed to his head, but the sheriff just watched Harrington walk towards the Jeep.

Harrington—the Mindflayer, Billy reminded himself—yelled, and he opened his eyes to see him lying on the ground, while the deputies, Hopper, and some other people held him down with their feet. Billy stared, watching the thing try and pretend they were wrong, laughing and pointing at Billy. They were wrapping his whole body in what looked like duct tape, wrapping his arms to his body and his legs together as he thrashed and swore.

It was probably assuming it would kill them while they drove, he realized, and opened his mouth, but they just tossed it into the Jeep and closed the doors, just watching it, like the Jeep was gonna take the Mindflayer back to the future, or start driving itself, or something.

Harrington started screaming. His feet banged against the inside of the tailgate, and the sheriff wandered back over to Billy.

“They trained us in those Jeeps for the National Guard, and for ‘Nam,” he said, with satisfaction. “The heaters can melt the snow two meters around, in January.”

“What,” Billy asked, completely lost. The sheriff put his hands on his belt, and Billy held his arms out, wrists together, expecting the cuffs, this time, but the man just shook his head, his lips thin.

“Go siddown, kid,” he said. “We’ll get you back to the hospital.”

 Billy awoke again to the beeping of hospital machines. His arm was in a sling, and he remembered his broken collarbone, wresting his eyes open on the ceiling, and a dark shape. He flinched, hissing with pain, and Harrington’s voice came again.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I just—I feel like—”

“Fuck,” Billy breathed, shutting his eyes again.

“It seems wrong to thank you for...that,” Harrington muttered. “But you—your dad—you’re why I’m alive, so. Uh. Thanks.”

“Whatever,” Billy sighed, wondering if he sold everything—his car, his records—if he could afford a plane flight back to California, and out of this conversation where the straight boy he’d masturbated over—who’d gotten possessed, who Billy’d groped and kissed while he was possessed—thanked Billy for helping him murder Billy’s dad.

“...so. Yeah,” Harrington said awkwardly, and Billy snorted a laugh.

“Fuck off, Harrington,” he whispered, his throat raw.

“You did all that to save me,” Harrington said, blankly. “All it had to do was take me, and you helped.”

“I got a history with that thing,” Billy reminded him, rolling his eyes.

“You’re a really horny bastard,” Steve said, still vaguely, like he was figuring it out, and Billy started laughing so hard he hurt. “Y’know who else pulls pigtails,” Harrington said, darkly. “Kids, that’s who. Children. Fucking...kindergartners.”

It wasn’t even that funny, but knowing Harrington knew, and wasn’t pissed off, was such a relief Billy couldn’t stop giggling. His eyes blurred with tears.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Harrington said, belatedly, and Billy breathed out a sigh he didn’t even know he’d been holding.

“...d’you know what they’re gonna do with me?” he asked, hoarsely.

“What?” Harrington asked.

“I wasn’t possessed,” Billy whispered, laughing, a sharp painful bark. “Why am I—am I going to jail, or—?”

“No,” Steve said, blinking at him. “No, you saved me. We’ll figure it out.”

“Can’t believe you wanna be in the same room as me,” Billy laughed again, shutting his eyes and cringing through the pain.

“...oh,” Harrington said, and Billy winced. “I don’t...I don’t mind if you’re in love with me,” he said, and in the cold blue light from the hallway, Billy could see a smirk on Harrington’s stupid face. “I know you’d do anything for me now, right,” he said, grinning.

I don’t love you, I just wanna fuck you, Billy thought of saying, or I’m a fucking faggot, I’d do anyone, or I thought I was gonna die anyway, moron, something to shock Harrington out of looking illogically happy to find out Billy was willing to commit murder if Steve Harrington was a hostage. “...fuck,” Billy whispered.

“Oh! I know...your um, your...dad,” Harrington said incomprehensibly, grimacing. “But uh, Max and Susan are okay,” he said, squeezing Billy’s hand, like that was a thing now, and Billy stared at him, remembering squeezing Harrington’s wrist, when he thought they’d both die. “Thanks for saving me, Hargrove,” he said again, his hand tight over Billy’s, and Billy swallowed, watching his face. “Now go the fuck to sleep.”

Harrington sat beside him the whole night, his warm thumb stroking Billy’s wrist after Billy’s eyes drifted closed.

[normal-thoughts-official]

I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR BEAUTY AND THE BEAST IDEA. But may I also propose: Magnus cursed from a young age (probably bc of Asmodeus) that anyone who touches him is hurt by a blast of magic he can't control. (This may result in his mother's death). He locks himself away of his own will. Alec teaches then that it's fear that makes him lash out. Featuring: touch starved Magnus.

this idea is GENIUS actually and i love it. tbh me and my friend have a similar idea that we talk to each other about (lol) but it isn't a B&B thing, its more of an adventure AU. anyway, lets go!

so in this universe i guess magnus banished asmodeus like in the original sh verse but asmodeus cursed him with the "everyone you touch will be in indescribable pain" thing. maybe just as revenge, maybe to try and use it as bargaining chip because okay magnus, is it freedom that u want? u want to be able to have ur own friends and ur own life? fine. get me back, and ill leave u alone, and ull be free to have friends again. if not, ull be still isolated just like before. so is it gonna be win-win, or lose-lose?

but magnus doesn't budge because he knows that if he lets asmodeus free things will only get worse not only for him, but for the whole world. he is too dangerous to be out there. so, magnus resigns to his fate

and i guess in this version he wouldnt have a lot of close friends because he had been with asmodeus his whole life before he was cursed, so he was just. alone in his self-imposed isolation with no one to talk to. maybe he enchants the furniture so they gain sentience but they can't really feel pain, so at least he has someone to talk to. god im so fucking sad already

so is the furniture his friends in canon? im not entirely sure how i feel about that but also the idea of ragnor as that clock from the original movie is great. thats my most important thought on the subject ngl

btw its 4 degrees Celsius in here so im typing with gloves on so ull have to excuse my typos i am a mere brazilian and i want death

anyway okay so i guess his friends are like pieces of furniture that he spelled into sentience and they aren't his servants or anything cuz that's gross but they just like, hang out. wow im actually managing to type pretty well all things considered

so at least magnus has people to talk to but he's still touch starved because you know... a clock can't hug you and that'd just be weird. maybe them becoming sentient was an accident? lmao like magnus just wanted to automate some functions like having the clock talk to tell him the time or something and it turned out that they became sentient. possibly his magic is a little fucky because of the curse so that's why that happened? or maybe he just is way more powerful than he realizes and we all know he invented the spells he used to try and automate the things anyway. but if he gets people to talk to, well, he's not complaining

im focusing too much on this. anyway. id also like to note that im making rapha the cook/stove thing because i mean, come on. it's right there

and ok i guess alec comes into this because he uhhhhhh no u know i might go with that izzy thing. so izzy ran away from home because of maryse's bullshit and alec was sent to bring her back. so he was going after her but in the middle of the path there was the whole wolf attack thing that scared off his horse and LUCKILY magnus' house/tower/whatever was right next!!! so of course they take alec and his horse in but also WHOOPS there's a huge snowstorm that lasts for days (par the course for where magnus lives, actually. he DID want somewhere people would avoid. but also i think maybe his magic being fucky has something to do with it) so i guess alec is stuck at magnus' for the foreseeable future

which is HELL for magnus because he is terrified out of his mind that they will accidentally touch and alec will be hurt. and like.... his Constant Crave For Touch is already bad on a regular day, but having someone who could actually hug him in theory just makes it worse, you know? he hasn't interacted with other human beings in so long, just having one there is enough to make his need for touch almost unbearable and just... completely constant. it's hell

so magnus is scared, which means that he keeps to himself. so he tells alec not to go into his room, he tries not to eat at the same time, and other stuff like that, bUT his friends keep sabotaging his plans because they want him to have another friend, jesus christ!! (rapha being like "come on now magnus, you don't want my soup to get cold, do you? i'll be deeply offended. i guess you have no choice but to eat with alec". so magnus goes but the first thing he does is magic his regular table into a gigantic rectangular table with 41908410 seats and seat on on the side opposite to alec. alec just sighs

so like he's constantly coming across as rude because he is trying to avoid alec, alec just doesn't know why

but alec is also a stubborn bitch who goes stir crazy and refuses to just sit around isolated doing nothing while they wait for the stupid storm to finally be over so he can go get his sister. and magnus saved his life, so it's the least he can do to repay him in some way. besides, this is what, the first time that he's been completely away from his mom? for such a long time too? and he's finding that he feels... weirdly free and just relieved and he doesn't want to waste that opportunity with standing idly around alone all day. he had enough of that at home, thank you very much

besides yeah magnus is being rude but alec is used to straight up assholes and abusers (jace. i'm talking about jace. also maryse ofc but mostly jace) and magnus is not that. in fact he makes very polite conversation and is actually pretty fun during dinner, all things considered. he's just.... super private, i guess

AND magnus' friends are all being a nightmare with the making them interact so you know. they end up interacting. and alec makes it a point to help him take care of his house because it is a certified Depression Lair™. magnus can take care of it magically but it's like... so dark and almost suffocating at times and there is stuff like bad painting and piping problems that he never bothered to fix because it isn't affecting the functionality too much but it DOES makes life harder and alec "everything must be at 100% always" lightwood is not here for it so for a few days they are working on fixing the house and... magnus actually feels a lot better when the place has actual sunlight and looks inviting and like a home, he has to admit. when he says that to alec it might be the first time he's given him a real smile and man, is alec smitten

sidenote i guess this means that magnus doesn't exactly... dress well in this au lmaoo i mean it makes sense too because canonically magnus uses dressing up as a way to convey an image of power and untouchability and he doesn't really need that in this AU since he is completely isolated. so i guess he is a bit more like twi magnus - bare-faced and wearing comfortable clothes and the like. this isn't a twi au i'm just saying that it makes more sense for him to dress like that in that context

anyway. after the whole house fixing thing, they officially become friends. it turns out that alec also knows a bit about what it's like to feel isolated and touch-starved (altho he's always had izzy to help in that department, but still) and also what crappy parents are like. magnus shows alec his little mirror that he's enchanted to be able to show him anything he wants and how he uses it to be able to see all the places in the world he'd like to visit - he loves people, he loves culture, and sometimes it's all he can do to watch what's going on in Mumbai and it makes him feel a little better, so, he does that. he also admits that sometimes he catches on some drama happening and uses the mirror to see the people involved and make sure they are okay. kinda like a soap opera of his own but he has the means to interfere and help because of magic, so he will have someone who's struggling with money suddenly find hidden cash or have an "unknown dead relative" give them a lot of money in their will, or something like that. and if he also watches some of their personal drama that unfolds, well. he is lonely and it's not hurting anyone

but magnus doesn't tell him about the curse, and he still makes sure to keep his distance. it stings a little to alec, but it hurts magnus the most because fuck, maybe he just desperately needs someone who will give him the time of day, but he likes this guy and that only makes it harder to keep his distance. he makes it a point to always be at at least two arms length from alec, which alec thankfully respects and doesn't try to get him to breach, but. shit. it's still so hard to not want to just rest his head on his shoulder or get a hug or even fucking touch pinkies like stupid children and he can't. alec even once jokingly suggests that they have a ball since magnus doesn't know how to dance and magnus is actually excited for a second before he remembers that he can't, it would have to mean that alec touches him, and he can't

someone - maybe ragnor - even suggests that maybe he could try gloves and heavy clothing so alec isn't really touching him but magnus refuses to try because he doesn't want to risk it not working and alec getting hurt, because he'd never forgive himself. besides, getting a taste would only make it hurt more. he can't. he can't

but it's alright because at least he has some human company - he loves his friends, he does, fiercely, but it's different when they kind of have no choice but to be with him and also are enchanted creatures. he doesn't even know if they aren't nice to him just because he enchanted them into life, even tho to be fair if he had a choice ragnor wouldn't be that grouchy - and alec makes him laugh and gets him and helped make his place feel more like home, a little bit. and he can pretend that he feels the warmth from alec's body when they are sitting by the fire and feed these crumbs to his desperate need for touch and company

and then the snowstorm ends and it's time for alec to go

honestly, alec himself is kind of heartbroken, but- he loves his sister, and he can't just leave her alone in god knows where, even if he dreads the thought of coming back home now that he's been away from his family for so long. but magnus doesn't want to keep him, and doesn't want alec to feel pity for him, so he's all but pushing alec out of the door (not literally, of course. he can't do that, it would mean touching him) all "go, go, you never know when another storm might start. go see your sister. take my mirror, you can find her more easy". and alec's all "but it's been the only thing-" and magnus waves him off, of course, all "i can always make myself another one. besides, you'll have something to remember me by. now go"

so.... alec goes

and hooo boy magnus is heartbroken and a mess because even tho he knew how much having someone else there helped he had almost forgotten what it was like to be the only human in the house. he just feels extra lonely and even kind of bad about it because hey, his friends are there - not that they begrudge him for it, of course. it's not like they don't also hope for the chance to get out of the house and do other things, but well. they can't. so they understand him. and they know how awful he's feeling right then, but what can they do?

meanwhile alec finds izzy pretty quickly - she's living with this one insufferable villager named clary that alec absolutely can't stand, but- she's happy. and she doesn't want to come back, which alec expected, but he finds that he can't actually insist for her to come back. how could he, when he himself doesn't want to go?

and izzy insists that he stays with her - there's no reason for him to come back. they can stay in the village, and work, and build a life for themselves. alec is the only thing she's been missing ever since she left, and in here the both of them can actually be happy. and do it together, like they're meant to

and when he first gets into the village is the first time since izzy ran away that he was hugged and fuck, it's hard to say no to her

but also... he misses magnus already

and he doesn't know if he can just stay and leave him behind

and of course izzy is like "who is magnus?" so alec tells her the story, how he was attacked by wolves and rescued by this house that miraculously was in the middle of the single most inhospitable placealec had ever seen in his life. and the kind but wary stranger who always keeps his distance but seems so eager for connection, who made alec feel welcome and laugh and feel like he built a life for himself there

and clary tells him that she's heard of the story, but she never knew it was more than a legend - no one really remembers what happened. some say that magnus made a sacrifice to rid the village of a demon, and it turned him into a beast, forever locked in his castle. some say that he himself is the demon, and it's the tower that's containing him and keeping the village safe. some even say that he died battling the demon, and it's his ghost that keeps watch on the tower

she wants alec to explain which one is true, but it's all alec can say that none of these are right and he knows nothing because magnus never told him. all alec knows is that he doesn't want to leave magnus behind

and clary is like... well, if he's not a demon or a ghost, maybe we could bring him to the village too. he has magic, right? he could bring the tower closer. and maybe the other villagers could, you know, visit him and hang out. and he wouldn't be as lonely, and then alec and izzy could both stay

driven by this failproof plan, they decide to go back to magnus and tell him their great idea

except they are IDIOTS and forget about. you know. the damn wolves

and like holy shit is this pack big or what? like no seriously why are there infinite wolves in that one singular pack in beauty and the beast. like holy shit dude there's more wolves near the beast's house than in the whole yellowstone park

anyway there are Many Wolves and while alec is a good archer, izzy is a fantastic fighter, and clary is Fucking Crazy if you give her something stabby, there's only so many wolves they can take on at the same time

good thing magnus is a pining idiot who did in fact make himself another magic mirror and was watching alec with it. so he knows that the dumbass is in trouble and for the first time in years, he uses the portal (his own invention, and he had never gotten to use it before!) to get to them and fight off the wolves

so magnus saves all their lives, at the cost of getting severely injured and passing the fuck out. izzy, who's the one closest, runs to get to him and help put him on one of their horses... and is immediately hit by a blast of magic that almost makes HER pass tf out too

which is when they finally learn that, oh. that is the curse

izzy is fine, of course - the pain ended as soon as she was away from magnus

but it does pose the problem of How The Fuck Are They Getting Him Back To Safety, because they can't exactly wait for magnus to wake up (it's freezing, for starters) but with this amount of pain it won't be physically possible for them to hoist him up and get him on the horse. shit, will the curse work on the horse?

they bring alec's horse (by far the strongest of them because alec is huge buff mcgee) and try to get him to touch magnus and the spell does NOT work on the horse because in order to be dramatic asmodeus was like "you shall never feel human touch again" when he cast the spell, which accidentally gave a LOOPHOLE for non-human animals. so magnus could have had cats the whole time, which he had always dreamed of, but he didnt want to risk testing. besides, his house would be a poor environment for a cat and [self torture noises]

anyway thats one less problem to deal with, 99 to go, so they use some ropes to hoist magnus on top of the horse and bring him back to the tower (it's closer than the village) so they can tend to his wounds. thankfully, as the assigned Big Brother of a very irresponsible izzy, alec has experience with first aid, altho he never really dealt with anything quite this bad. and magnus' friends help, too, as much as they can. inevitably this means that alec ends up touching him even if by accident sometimes, but he knows what to expect so he Powers Through It because he won't let magnus die, damn. and as horrible as that is alec has experience with powering through pain, so. he's gonna bandage him up god damn it

izzy can't stand to see him dealing with that himself tho, so she helps, and clary ends up helping as well because they figure sharing the pain makes it easier and alec doesn't have to be too hurt. minimal touching accidents for alec! good

*narrator voice* And Then Magnus Wakes Up And Alec Hugs Him

full on launches on top of him and brings him into his arms and Magnus screams like NONONO OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING ALEC NO GET OFF ME YOU'LL BE HURT and his shock and distress at the whole thing sends another whole blast of magic that explodes that whole mf before it can touch alec and alec feels no pain and magnus is like.............. did i just COUNTER the spell? and everyone's like well! it looks like u did!

which earns him ANOTHER hug (oh my god alec stop he's so stressed out by this) (who knew alec was so touchy?) and this time he's paying attention to that gut reaction and because magnus is a Certified Magic Genius he realizes what it is that he's doing to counter the spell and immediately starts working on a way to turn this into unhexxing himself for good

which he DOES after some time idk how long but alec stays with him meanwhile and maybe izzy and clary do too, because magnus needs all the company he can get and besides, izzy has always wanted adventure and clary has never left the village before, so this is interesting to them at least. and magnus gets to meet new ppl which is nice

eventually the Begone Spell spell is performed and it works and turns out that when it does that it also unfucks magnus' magic and perfects his sentience spell turning all of his friends into humans WOW WHOD HAVE THOUGHT. so all of them are free to leave the tower as ppl at the same time and GROUP HUG!! and magnus cries like a baby in the group hug because holy shit hes been needing something like this so bad for so long and he never expected to have that with his friends but here he is :)

and then yeah they all move to the village to live a simple but fulfilling life and Magnus and Alec start living together in a little cottage and become husbands the end <3 this is so long too rip me

[tummyachesandchocolatecakes]

i really liked your writing about the chinese food? don't know if you remember what i'm talking about lol but something else like that would be great. sorry if this is too vague

I’m pretty sure I know the one you mean! If it isn’t and this isn’t what you had in mind, just hit me up again and I’ll write something else!

The annual fair has come back into town, and you and your friends decide to head out. Everyone is excited as there isn’t much to do in your small hometown so the fair is a big deal. Everyone is excited for the rides and entertainment, but you’re most excited for the food. Just thinking of the sweet treats and savoury snacks has your mouth watering.

Upon arrival you all decide to have a bite to eat before exploring too far. You head to a food stall close by, and decide on loaded fries. They all sound so good you order two portions so you don’t have to choose, you pick the chilli beef and the spicy pulled pork. You all sit down at a picnic bench and dig in.

You take a bite of the chilli fries first, the flavourful spices igniting your tastebuds like fireworks. You devour half of them before deciding to try the pork. When they said spicy, they meant it. You can handle your spice but even you find yourself needing a drink. Leaving your food with your friends momentarily you head to the milkshake stand. Peanut butter chocolate chip of course, and you make it a large. Why not you think, it’s part of the fun!

Returning to your friends you have a large gulp of your shake, the sweet taste feeling amazing in your mouth. You finish off the chilli fries before moving back to the spicy pork. By now you acknowledge the fact that actually, you’re not hungry anymore. But you can’t waste the fries so you eat them anyway, interchanging every other mouthful with a swig or three of thick creamy milkshake. Everyone else is ready to leave so you eat it all at lightning speed. You finish the fries and down the last of the milkshake before leaning back slightly. You’re overly full. Not completely stuffed, but beyond the point of being “comfortably” full. You give you’re belly a little rub, it’s protruding a tiny bit but not hugely bloated. You encourage up a huge belch, it’s thick with the milkshake and it lasts a long time. You’re friends laugh, and you all get up and make your way to the next activity.

You all decide on watching a fire eating show, followed by playing some carnival games. By now you’re feeling a lot less full, so when someone suggests a snack you’re all for it. This is where you’re gluttony sets in. Choosing just one snack out of all of the wonderful choices is too hard. So you buy a selection, stating you intention is to share it all out with your friends, though you yourself know that you’re going to have more than your fair share.

Donuts, churros, candy floss, ice cream, popcorn, deep fried mars bars, and chocolate coated strawberries (fruit is healthy right?) fill your arms as you find a shaded place on the grass to sit.

You go for a donut first, followed by a churro. Your lips and fingers covered in sugar. Annoyingly you find yourself feeling full already. Another small rub to your belly brings up a little gas, allowing for some more room. Next you eat the ice cream, it’s soft where it’s started melting in the heat. Each lick taste wonderful and refreshing, you chose a vanilla and it’s super creamy. And of course what goes better with vanilla ice cream than chocolate strawberries? You devour the lot in under five minutes. To break things up a little and refresh your palate, you then chug half a bottle of water. Once you pull the bottle away from your lips, you become aware of a heavy feeling in your stomach. You try to encourage up yet another burp, but instead get a regurgitated mouthful of water mixed with undigested ice cream. Swallowing it back down, you lean back, suddenly acutely aware of how full you are. The fullness is increasing by the second, and you’re stomach begins to ache a bit. Letting out a deep breath, you place your hand on you belly and begin rubbing circles on it, praying to aid it in the digestion of all the food crammed inside it. Your belly grumbles and whines unhappily as it tries to break down all of the sugar and fat soaked food inside of it. You can feel it bloating, expanding to accommodate all of the food it’s that you’ve shovelled inside. You feel a gas bubble forming, but even the thought of burping makes you feel queasy. You rub a little harder, hoping against hope that you’ll be able to disperse the bubble and hold out on burning until everything is a little more settled inside you’re now pretty upset tummy. But no, the rubbing just encourages the air up and you feel it rising within you, along with a lump of undigested dough filled stomach acid. No matter how much you try and suppress it, this burp is coming. You lean forward over your gurgling tummy, anticipating vomiting. But all that comes up is a gigantic wet, sickly belch that vibrates through your entire being. Once again you’re friends laugh, commenting on you gluttony and your iron gut. You don’t have it in you to tell them that actually your belly was feeling far from iron clad, that in fact you were in a lot of discomfort, bordering on actual pain. But it’s okay you think, as you’ll have some time to let your belly recover before moving on. Except you’re wrong.

One friend suggests moving on to the rides and attractions. Everyone eagerly agrees and you’re encouraged to finish up. You place the popcorn and candy floss into your rucksack, they’re both in plastic bags so can be eaten at a later date. Then you get to the deep fried mars bar. The grease from the batter has already leaked through the wrapping, meaning you can’t put it aside for later. You offer it around but nobody else wants it, all of them seem a little grossed out at the idea of the deep fried candy bar. You go to throw it away, but you are stopped by a friend who tells you what a waste it would be. That leaves only one option, to eat it. Your belly is upset already, still bloating bigger as you’re all wondering around choosing rides. You can feel all of the food mixing together and not settling at all. You’re gut has started feeling bloated and gassy lower down too, meaning that the fries from earlier are also upsetting your intestines, as much as you love spicy food it doesn’t always love you.

But you do it. Despite your poor tummy practically screaming at you not to, you take a bite of the mars bar. The mouthful of batter mixed with the sweet candy bar tastes divine, but you don’t have time to enjoy it. You forcefully swallow it down, taking another bite before your belly has time to process what you’re doing. Bite, swallow, bite, swallow, bite, swallow, bite. It’s the last bite that gets you. You hold it in your mouth way longer than necessary, because you can already feel the rest of it practically sitting in your oesophagus because there just isn’t any room in your tummy to put it. After a slow deep breath through your nose, you force yourself to swallow. The battered candy slowly slides its way down your throat, and sits itself in what feels like your chest. But you’ve done it. It’s all gone.

And then you get a sharp pain in the centre of your stomach. You’re tummy catching up to what you’ve just put inside it. It’s not happy, not happy at all. A long, deep gurgle comes from your stomach as it moves things around to find room. Room that doesn’t exist. Your stomach stretches, pushing tightly against your skin, tighter than it’s ever been before. Your belly gurgles some more, and the food settles like a rock in your tummy. Hard, heavy and unmovable. You’re friends have chosen a ride, one of those ghost trains with questionable scares and even more questionable sanitation. You excuse yourself from this ride, telling a half truth, that you think ghost trains are lame. You place yourself on a nearby bench as they get in line.

Once they’re out of sight, you allow yourself to feel the full effects of your food consumption. You leans back into the wooden bench, spreading your legs wide to accommodate you’re severely bloated tummy. You pull up your top. You are huge, like 8 months pregnant kind of huge. Your stomach is protruding far out from you, your jeans cutting into you tightly. You would love nothing more than to pop the button, but know if you did that then it would not go back together. You place your hands on your stomach and rub it desperately. It’s solid, when you push it doesn’t give at all, it’s so tight and round it almost feels like it’s actively pushing out against your hands whilst your rub. Sickening groans and sloshing gurgles continue to be emitted, as you experience the hot flushes and tingling sweaty sensations of nausea. Your bend forward, cradling your aching belly and rocking back and forth whilst also rubbing hard and fast circles over your engorged abdomen.

All to quickly you see your friends returning and you straighten up, not wanting to be caught. They all agree that the ghost train had been lame, though you’re not really listening as you fight off wave after wave of nausea. Standing up to join your friends brings a new issue. As soon as you’re upright you’re stomach seems to go into overdrive, gurglings and sloshing in your tummy, whilst huge cramps suddenly engulf your intestines. You double over, not sure if you’re going to throw up or shit yourself. You cradle you’re tummy and groan, feeling like a bloated whale out of water. Once the cramps finally pass you’re able to straighten up, only to see that your friends had already began to walk away and hadn’t noticed. You sigh a small sigh of relief before slowly waddling to catch up with them.

Walking isn’t helping. Each step increases the pain surging through every inch of your poor bulging belly. Your jeans are cutting so deeply into you that you’re beginning to fear they’ll actually draw blood. You walk with your hand up your shirt, rubbing profusely at your aching sick tummy. And then someone notices. They slow down, joining you at the back of the group. They ask if you’re okay, and by now you don’t have it in you to lie. You tell them how much your tummy is hurting, how sick you feel and how upset your tummy is. You pull your shirt up and let them see the swell of your stomach. They’re shocked, placing they’re hands on your tummy and pushing it slowly. You feel something rising in your throat and turn away, but only a small sickly burp escapes you. And then you stop. Your friends have chosen a ride. A roller coaster. You begin thinking up excuses to not go, but know they all know that you’re a roller coaster fiend.

That’s when your friend turns to you and quietly asks if you want to leave now feeling so sick or if you want to feel a bit better first. You look at them questioningly as they point at the ride. Oh. You stand there, wondering what to do, but your tummy is so sore, so bloated, so sick, you know what needs to be done. As you all queue for the ride, you and your friend remain at the back of the group. They place their hands on your tummy, rubbing it gently and soothingly. The pressure in you tummy is still growing, your belly so big and so tightly packed you can barely breath. Your friend moved their hands down and pops your button. Your fly undoes itself from the pressure, and your belly let’s put a huge groan of relief as it has more room to accommodate the greasy food and ever building gas and awfully digested food. You groan in painful pleasure at the release of some pressure, though by the time you reach the front of the line your belly is fully bloated and tight as a drum again.

They sit you two by two, your friend sat by you to offer comfort and continues tending to your belly as everyone boards. When the lap bar is pulled down, it pushes tightly into your stomach, and you let out a huge sickly belch along with a wet, gut wrenching fart. Your friend chuckles a little, patting you reassuringly on the knee before the ride begins.

The rollercoaster begins it’s incline and the contents of your tummy sloshes backwards making you nauseous once again. And then the coaster drops, and turns and jolts along the tracks. The insides of your belly splash and move in all directions. You close your eyes as the nausea builds and builds and builds. All of the food mixes and swirls within you, and you can feel it all bubbling sickly. Your skin is prickly with sweat as you feel acid rushing up your throat whilst you swallow thickly to keep it down a little longer. Finally the ride stops, the lap bar raises, and you run off of the ride and out of the exit. You don’t have time to find a trash can, your tummy is so sick and upset and the nausea is building fast.

Finally you exit the ride area and dash to the side of the path before collapsing onto your hands and knees. You wretch once, nothing but spit comes up. You wrap your arm round your belly, it’s so tight and painful that you can’t not do it. And then you feel pressure building again and you know what you have to do. You push your hand into you tummy forcefully, and that’s all it takes.

A wave of sickly sweet vomit projectiles our of your mouth, splattering onto the grass. You have no time to even breath before another wave forces it’s way out of your mouth. You vomit with such force you feel like you’re going to fall into your own sick. But a pair of hands grabs your shoulders holding you up.

Wave after wave of projectile vomit escapes you until you’re left dry heaving profusely into the grass. Your friend pulls you away from your sick and seats you between their legs. They tell you that they’ve made the others leave and it’s just the two of you. They rub their hands deeply into your tummy, interchanging between circular motions and palpating you’re still very bloated tummy. You assess yourself, seeing that you still look pregnant and that your tummy is still rock solid. As they rub your tummy you begin bringing up gas, belching wet sickly burps that occasionally bring up mouthfuls of partially digested food that you forcefully swallow back down. Then your intestines cramp, you force your friends hand deeply into the pain, and they rub hard forceful circles into it. Once the cramp passes they then focus on the lower area of your tummy. Groans and gurgle escape, and they get louder and more urgent sounding. Cramps begin to hit more frequently, and pressure continues to build. You know you’re going to need a toilet pretty soon and you know it’s going to be an awful experience, but you’re glad you’re friend will be here to help you expel all of the upset and pain from within your poor distended tummy.

[ollie-ollie-oxenfreee]

then came the morning (aka: the post - canon cuddle fic)

The work in progress is finally done! I’ve been chipping away at it for the past couple weeks now, and it’s gone through many drafts / iterations, but I think I’m finally happy with it. :)

Title from an album by the Lone Bellow. 

The first time the two of them “shared a bed” was about as awkward as one might imagine. The initiating circumstances were hardly any better.

 The heating apparatus in their quarters had given out a week or so back in a spectacular fit of dust - laden wheezing. The engineering crew called in to inspect it informed them that it couldn’t be fixed until they could pick up the right parts at the nearest trading post (which was naturally thousands of klicks away on the ragged edge of nowhere). With the ambient heat from the nearby engine room seeping through the wall, the conditions were deemed “unpleasant but survivable.” They were issued two extra threadbare blankets and told in tersely formal military - speak to deal with it. 

 And they’d dealt with it really well for a while! They grit their teeth and carried on like a couple of champs: Harrow, having been thoroughly warned against using her magic too frequently, layering on spare cloaks and sweaters until she almost disappeared under a mountain of black fabric; Gideon curling up close to the engine room wall and wincing when the cold sent spiteful twinges shooting through her still-very-busted knee. 

 But then one night their grand flagship of the revolution chugged through a particularly empty sprawl of space and began to slow down. The heat from the engine room guttered like a candle flame. Frost spiderwebbed across the thin plex of their window. Harrow’s breath showed in thin wisps of vapor as she huffed, glaring down at the pages of her book like she wanted to reprimand the cold for daring to interrupt her studies. 

 Gideon had half a mind to encourage her to try (that glare could stop a full - fledged Lyctor in their tracks, who knew what other horrifying powers it possessed?), but thought better of it when she saw the genuine exhaustion in the other girl’s eyes.

 “You doing alright over there, my vulturine vicar?” she asked. “I know it takes some time to absorb all that good bone knowledge, but you haven’t turned a page in like half an hour.”

 The thunderous look on Harrow’s face darkened further as she set her book aside with an exasperated thump. “This is ridiculous. I studied in the depths of Drearburh for years without any issue, and yet here I am struggling to focus like a novice. It isn’t even that cold.” She bit her lip as a shiver ran through her at the words. 

 “Evidence seems to suggest otherwise, o mistress of melancholy. Do you want me to go ask that guy in the supply room for another blanket? He still owes me for his son’s fencing lesson.”

 Supply room guy didn’t really owe her anything, but she knew that mentioning it would make Harrow feel better. If she could believe that the nice things Gideon did for her were actually for Totally Self - Serving, Debt - Settling reasons, she could accept them without feeling guilty.

 (Guilt had haunted Harrow more than ever upon returning to her own body, making it hard to breathe on good days and leaving her shaking with sobs on bad ones. 

It was one of those fun little things they had in common.)

 From the way Harrow’s shoulders stiffened, though, it seemed that Gideon Nav’s patented Guilt Workaround wasn’t going to be as effective as usual. She shook her head - a stiff little gesture that made her earrings rattle - then sighed. 

 “No. Thank you, though, it’s kind of you to offer.” 

 The thank you was sincere, and that was admittedly pretty nice, but all the sincerity in the world wouldn’t change the fact that Harrow was still  very obviously shivering. She looked miserable beneath her usual mask of face paint and stoicism. The dark red bead of blood-sweat trailing down her temple indicated that she'd probably tried using some kind of homeostasis theorem, but it wasn't working well enough. 

 There had to be a solution to this problem somewhere. Harrow's stubborn pride meant that she wouldn't accept help outright - she would sooner set her books on fire than admit what she thought of as a weakness - but if Gideon could play it just right, maybe she wouldn't have to. It would need to be done carefully - too sappy and she'd be uncomfortable, too straightforward and she'd balk.  Casual, Gideon decided. Nice and casual was the way to go. It would just be a matter of execution.

 "Soooo," she said at length, leaning back against the wall all cool and easy. (She folded her arms up behind her head as an afterthought, appreciating the way it made her still-atrophied-but-getting-there muscles stand out through the thin fabric of her shirt. Confidence boosts were going to be scarce and sorely needed in the conversation to come - she’d take them where she could get them.)

 Naturally, Harrow did not appreciate the change in tack or the cool-and-easy-ness. She did, however, manage to muster up a look so steeped in wary disapproval that it cut through her earlier frustration like a hot knife through bone marrow. “So.”

 “You sure about that blanket? Because really, it would only take me a second -”

 “I’m sure. Thank you.”

 “Then, um, did you want to borrow mine?”

 Harrow blinked. “You need yours.”

 “Yeah, I know! I meant that we could maybe - share. Pool our resources.” She patted the edge of her bunk gamely, then instantly regretted it when Harrow’s eyes narrowed even further. 

 “You want us to sleep together?”

 "No? I mean, technically, but no. In the literal way. Not the other way.” Well maybe the other way sometime if you wanted to but that’s a whole other weird conversation that we probably shouldn't touch with a ten foot pole or we might explode. 

 "How exactly would that work?" The caution was still heavy in Harrow's voice, but some of the disapproval had ebbed away. 

 "I mean. We'd probably need to use my bed, since my sheets aren't covered in gross bone gobbets, but you could bring your blankets over and layer 'em over mine and then we'd have twice the blankets! And, you know, body heat. Which has its perks." Even Gideon's cool-and- easy-ness faltered at that, but she bravely soldiered on. "The point is, we'd both be warm."

 "And it won't - make things weird?" 

 "Nope! Not weird. All perfectly chill, my shivering scion."

 Harrow paused for a moment, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'll get ready for bed," she said at last, clipped and decisive. "And I'll think about it."

 "Take your time. I'll be here."

 Moments later, after the shivering scion had swept grandly out of the room, Gideon's Thinking Brain crashed unceremoniously into her Talking Brain. Things were not, in fact, going to be perfectly chill. There were going to be some logistical problems with this arrangement. Big logistical problems.

 Big logistical problems namely revolving around the mutually exclusive facts that the midnight monarch was not especially comfortable with touch, and Gideon Nav, space - bee slayer and resurrected badass, was a sleep cuddler.

 Or, well, she was in theory. She didn’t have much (any) “real world” experience to go on, but she’d woken up many, many times back on the Ninth with a bundle of blankets wrapped up in her arms or nestled close to her chest. The habit had never really embarrassed her back then - she actually kind of liked it. She felt warmer and less lonely when she had something to hold, even in the frigid emptiness of her cell. 

 But that was back then. Things were different in the here - and - now. Harrow was in the here - and - now, and Gideon would never forgive herself if she ruined things with Harrow right when their relationship was on the upswing. They were actually talking, slowly figuring out how to work together again. The furious, tearful intensity between them in the wake of their reunion had calmed and warmed into something almost like real friendship. 

 After all that had happened - everything that had gone wrong over the past year and a half - they’d found a fragile sort of peace. There was no way in Hell she was going to ruin that peace now.

 So while Harrow swished about getting ready for bed, Gideon leveled with herself and laid down some ground rules. Don’t make this weird, Nav. Make sure she’s comfortable, give her her space, and don’t think about cuddling with her. 

 ...even though it would probably be warmer, and she has shitty necro circulation and essentially no body mass so she needs all the warmth she can get, and she gets that kinda soft peaceful look on her face when - no, fuck, see? You’re doing it already. Even if she did like you like that, which she absolutely doesn’t because she’s got a good old-fashioned frostbite girl back home, that’s not what you’re here for. You’re her cav. Her sworn sword. You’re here to do your job and make sure she doesn’t get her thumbs bitten off again. That’s it.

 “You’re staring.”

 Harrow’s voice cut sharp as a bone shard through Gideon’s nervous thought - spiral. Having apparently completed her grim evening rituals, she’d settled lightly on the far edge of the to - be - shared bed, countless dark layers poofing out around her like the feathers of a posturing crow. Her face was flecked with dots of gray from scrubbing off her paint, and her short hair stuck up in messy licks of black fluff despite her increasingly irritated attempts to smooth it flat. 

 It shouldn’t have been endearing. It really, really shouldn’t have. 

 It was.

 Gideon was so screwed.

 “Shit,” she muttered, scrubbing a hand over her face to ground herself. She glanced over to meet Harrow’s eyes (and wow, was that a mistake, they were as mesmerizing a swirl of black and gold as ever), then forced a smile like she wasn’t screaming internally. “Sorry. Zoned out a little. You good to go?”

 The wryly exasperated glint in Harrow’s eyes made them glow even brighter in the dim light. “Yes, I’m ‘good to go,’ thank you. Are you, though? You look … troubled.” 

 Shit. Shit. Shit. Think nice, normal thoughts. Don’t let her know. She cannot know. 

 “I’m always good, my chthonic countess,” she lied, smooth as could be, throwing in a roguish wink for good measure. That was distractingly stupid enough, it was bound to work.  

 Harrow frowned. “Why are you blinking like that?”

 The roguish wink apparently had not worked. 

 “No reason! Just dust. In my eye. Lots of very rude dust landing right in my eye. Anyway. How are we doing this?”

 A flicker of genuine, anxious concern ghosted over Harrow’s face as her frown deepened. 

 “Gideon,” she began, in that slow, reluctant way of hers that heralded Incoming Indignity. “I know that you were the one to suggest this, but I want to impress upon you that if you aren’t - certain about it, there is another possible solution.”

 She cast around the room for a moment and reached for a massive, dusty tome at the top of a nearby stack, flipping determinedly through the pages. “I've had the idea for some time, but I only just managed to convince our commanding officer that I could use theorems 'responsibly' without their constant supervision, so I haven't been able to test it until now. Small - scale thanergetic fission reactions produce sparks of flame that, if handled extremely carefully, could give off enough heat - "

 “Wait.” Gideon held up a hand, her own anxious brain jolting back online at the word flame. “Wait, wait, wait. Harrow. Seriously? The concern is sweet, don’t get me wrong, but your other solution is death - fire?”

 “I said that it was a possibility,” she snapped back, that old brittle defensiveness calcifying over the vulnerability in her voice. Her posture straightened with a great rustling of robes: shoulders back, chin high, eyes gleaming with disdainful pride as the bones scattered about their room twitched to life. Looking for all the world like she had when they were ten - twelve - fourteen - sixteen, bitter and vicious and spoiling for a fight. 

 She seemed to realize it right when Gideon did. Her eyes widened, then closed. The bowstring tension in her shoulders slowly ebbed away as her half - formed constructs clattered to the floor. “Sorry,” she said at last, her voice a threadbare murmur. “I’m sorry. That was - uncalled for.”

 “It’s a reflex. I get it.” And she did - she’d done the same thing countless times, had a hand on her sword and a barbed insult on her tongue without even thinking about it. 

 Another one of those fucked up things they had in common. 

 An uneasy silence settled between them, broken only by the rumbling hum of the engines, the thud of footsteps in the hall. 

 “I meant it, you know,” Harrow said, after a long moment. “About other options. It was a half - baked and immature attempt, but I wanted to give you an out if you were uncomfortable.”

 “Yeah, I know, my sepulchral sage. I appreciate it. Half - baked immaturity and all.” She bumped her shoulder gently against Harrow’s, then flopped back on the bunk to stare up at the low ceiling. “Are we, like, committing to honesty hour tonight? How deep into feelings do you want to get?”

 “As deep as is comfortable.”

 “That’s what she said.”

 “It’s a reasonable thing for her to say.”

 Another hush fell over them, marginally more comfortable than the last, as Gideon worried her lip between her teeth and counted the cracks in the ceiling above her. There were nine of them in total. Go fucking figure.

 A bony finger poked her in the side after a few cycles of counting. “Were you going to elaborate, or was that all just a set - up for one of your charming jokes?”

 “I can’t believe it took you eighteen years to finally admit that they’re charming, but no, that’s not why I said it. I’ll lay bare my tender squishy heart for you, penumbral lady. Because you asked so nicely.” 

  Because I think you might already have it. 

 No avoiding it now. Might as well bite the bullet and dive in. 

 “I was on board with the cuddle thing from the beginning, but I felt like you wouldn’t be, and I panicked. You probably already knew that because you’re way more creepily observant than you have any right to be, but there it is. Out in the open.” 

 She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could just run away and hide from the other girl’s piercing gaze. “I just don’t want to fuck things up with you, Harrow. I feel like we’ve got a kind of good thing going now. You haven’t called me a useless halfwit in forever, and I haven’t called you a heinous bitch in forever, and I haven’t wanted to. That’s unheard of for us. I don’t want it to go away.”

 Her voice cracked, and the most damning words burst forth like flowers through concrete: “I don’t want to give you a reason to shut me out again.”

 The memories of those nine months flashed in fragmented mosaic through her mind - the slick stone walls of the well, the freezing churn of the water, the burn in her muscles as she desperately thrashed up toward the surface and reached for someone who didn’t even know she was there. The gut - wrenching loneliness that defined her entire fucking life coalescing in that pit of brackish darkness. The chant rattling on loop in her mind as the water pulled her under: Harrow, what happened, what did you do, why the fuck did you leave me here, I had a purpose, I threw myself on that goddamned rail for a reason, was that not enough for you? 

 Was I not enough for you?

 A cool, fine - boned hand laced with hers and squeezed, just once. The memories blurred. 

 “Gideon,” the voice that had haunted her all that time said. “You know - you have to know that isn’t why I did it.”

 “Why did you, then?”

 A tiny hitch of breath. A soft, almost incredulous laugh. Then:

 “Because I loved you.”

 The words hung heavy in the frozen air. 

 “You - what?”

 “I loved you.” She said it so simply. Like it was something she’d come to terms with long ago. “I loved you beyond reason, and for once in my life I wanted to do right by you and keep you safe as you did me. The motivation doesn’t justify a moment of it, I won’t pretend it does, and I can’t even begin to erase the hurt it caused you. But I need you to understand that it was never because of something you did wrong. You are good, darling. Good to the core. You always have been.”

 Bright spots bloomed before Gideon’s eyes as her reeling mind fought to catch up. Three thoughts sprang unbidden to the forefront:

 Mmf.

 And: Darling?

 And:

“Loved. You said ‘loved.’ Why the past tense?”

 She sat there, staring blankly up at the ceiling, half - expecting a don’t be presumptuous, Griddle or something even remotely normal, at least. What she got instead was another laugh, halting and shaky and suddenly deeply bitter. The hand in hers went rigid and drew away. 

 “I came to my senses. I remembered the countless awful things I’ve done. Saw myself for the leech that I am. I’ve taken and taken and taken from you, over and over again, torn away at your life like a scavenger, I can’t steal anything more  - “

 “Who said anything about stealing?”

 For the first time since the grand awkward commencement of honesty hour Gideon felt a genuine smile bloom across her face. “Come on, Nonagesimus, give me some credit. You honestly think I would have stuck around this long if I didn’t know what I was giving you? If I wasn’t getting something out of it too?”

 “What could you possibly be getting out of it?”

 “You. I like you. Like, a lot. More than I ever thought I would. And I know the brain weasels are going to start yammering about how that’s impossible, and you don't deserve it, and we've still got a mountain of baggage left to work through, but I’ve thought about it a lot and I really mean it. Having you with me has made this whole shitty thing infinitely less shitty."

 With a surge of sudden bravery and dizzy emotion, she reached out to take Harrow's hand again and, giving her ample time to pull away, pressed a feather - light kiss to the back. “If you want me here too, sunshine - as your cav or your friend or something else - then I'm not going anywhere."

 Harrow closed her eyes, took a deep shuddering breath, and - smiled. A real one, slow and hesitantly sweet, lighting up her careworn face. "I need to think about it - we both should think about it. But I do want you here, in whatever way you want to be."

 "Yeah? Cool."

 "Cool."

 Silence settled upon them for the third time that night, but this time it was different. It was soft and tentative, fragile and new, like budding grave - flowers reaching for the sun. First flowers, the both of them, clawing up out of the grit and finding a way to bloom.

 "Should we go to sleep now?" Harrow asked at last, her rasping voice low and quiet. "It's getting late."

 "We probably should. Cam and Pal are gonna kill us if we're not up by 6:00 tomorrow. Are you still up for this, though? Like, the whole 'two girls, chilling in a military bunk, zero feet apart 'cause they're freezing and also maybe like each other' thing?"

 "Yes. On one condition."

 "Anything."

 "This might be difficult for you."

 "Seriously, Harrow, just tell me. Name it and it's done."

 "No sex jokes."

 She heaved a sigh, mock - exasperated and so stupidly fond. "As you wish, my dearest darling death omen. As you wish."

 It took a while to get comfortable - with Harrow's knobby elbows jabbing Gideon in the stomach, Gideon's clunky knee brace getting tangled in the sheets, the blankets collectively giving up and puddling on the floor at least ten times - but eventually, like everything else, they made it work. They fumbled through the sleep - cuddling confession with an admirable lack of panic on both sides, culminating in a firm agreement that they would let each other know the moment they were at all uncomfortable and an "I trust you" from Harrow so pure in its sincerity that it would be ringing through Gideon's mind for at least a myriad.

 Harrow was the first to fall asleep, curled up tight in a cocoon of black fabric, the dark crown of her head just barely brushing the sunburst scar on Gideon's chest. Her shallow breaths fell into an even, steady rhythm, interspersed with whistling snores that Gideon was definitely going to tease her about when her heart was less of a melted puddle of goo. 

 The minutes slipped by warm and slow as drops of honey as her own eyes grew heavier, fluttering closed. She gave her necromancer - her Lyctor - her beautiful baneful bone empress one last sleepy smile, and drifted off.

 (When Camilla went to shake her sparring partner awake the next morning, she found the two of them still sound asleep, wrapped up in each other's arms and looking more peaceful than she'd ever seen them. She huffed a laugh, muttered "finally," and let them be.)