#moving their hands so fast and with all kinds of gestured and stuff

[voidscreamns]

./

[gurugirl]

STOPPPPP IT THE SHORTS ARE SO SHORT! WTF THE TIGER IS SHOWING! OMG Y/N WOULD GO CRAZYYYYYYY OVER IT. okok so maybe y/n gets jealous that Harry was wearing such short shorts in public that she ends up getting moody and Harry makes it up to her by letting her ride his thigh and fucks her saying stuff like “y’know this cock belongs to you darling” and stuff 😩😩

HAPPY FRIDAY YOU GUYS!!!

PLEASE I've been looking at these pics all day. What is this man thinking????????? I cannot handle him. He's such a tease. And I wrote this way too fast. Sorry if it sucks but this picture deserves a smut piece written about it. He's too fucking hot.

1.6k words

warning: mostly plotless smut, not proofread whatsoever

Y/n was used to Harry being ogled. Always the hottest guy in the room with the most charisma and charm. Everyone flocked to him and everyone's eyes always followed him. He was magnetic. And he knew it too.

As much as she realized she had nothing to worry about she still got jealous of the attention he constantly got. He didn't even need to try. He could be wearing a backwards baseball cap and loose jeans with a t-shirt and people would still be after her man.

And today, their little break away from the business of life led them to a relaxing little outing in the Italian sun. Before they'd even left the villa she eyed his short green trunks and how his fit torso was in full view, the long sleeved shirt draped over his shoulders, totally unbuttoned.

Biting her tongue, she figured she was being silly wishing he'd cover up a bit. She certainly wouldn't take well to him telling her to cover up, not that he'd ever.

But once they were on the beach and about to board their private yacht she did notice women and men alike watching him. His bronzed chiseled abs and pecs peeking out from the shirt, and of course he'd tucked his shorts up a bit to protect the mesh lining from chafing this inner thighs (he always did that because he said his package was too large to sit comfortably in the lining and it gave him a little extra support). His strong thighs on full view holding his tall frame upright as he carried both of their bags.

"Come on," he held his hand out to her as he helped her up into the boat safely.

He could tell she was a little pouty. He knew her too well. Knew he was being eye fucked by half the beach as they walked to the yacht they'd rented for the afternoon.

"What's wrong, love?" He grinned as he pulled at the strap of her bathing suit teasingly.

"Nothing. Just looking forward to getting out onto the ocean."

Harry crowded her space, stepping in front of her so she couldn't look at anything but him, "Yeah? Is that it? You seem to have been awfully quiet all morning. Nothing else you want to talk about?"

She looked up at him and the smirk he wore told her that he knew just what she was pouting about. But she just shook her head and crossed her arms, "Nope."

The low chuckle that fell from his chest as he pushed her arms down and grasped her wrists made her cheeks warm up, "Liar. You're jealous."

Harry kind of liked that she got jealous. Because in all truth, he'd get jealous when anyone would look at her just the same.

"Am not."

Harry walked her backward as the driver of the yacht began to move the boat out to sea, "Let's go down into the suite for a bit. Need to show you something," he gestured toward the door that lead to the stairs to get to the lower level.

She huffed as she carefully stepped down into the furnished room. It was small but there was a counter with a TV above it, a mini bar with fridge, a bathroom, a sitting area and a bed in the center.

Harry closed and locked the door before grasping Y/n's arms and pushing her toward the bed, pressing his chest into her back and speaking into her ear in a dark baritone, "Let's figure out what's got you so moody. Maybe I can help."

She tried to keep her composure but his voice and his skin and his hands always melted her poise.

When he felt her relax into his hold he smiled and kissed the back of her neck, bringing her into the bed with him, "There we go."

Y/n climbed into the middle of the bed and sat on her bottom as Harry spread out next to her, "Hop on. Let's talk."

She looked down at his lap and back into his eyes. She knew his plan. It always worked.

Biting the inside of her cheek she quietly moved to straddle his lap but he stopped her from fully spanning his thighs with hers, "Just sit on the tiger for a minute."

She looked up at him like he was crazy but settled herself right over his thigh, the crotch of her swimsuit right on top of the inked tiger on his strong thigh.

"Good girl. See that," he looked down to how she was sitting on him, "No one else gets to do that. Just cause they can see it doesn't mean they can fuck themselves on me like this. Know you like that, don't you?"

She nodded bit her bottom lip.

"That's right." Harry put his hands at her hips and pulled her up and then pushed her back a bit, "Let's see you do it. Show me who this belongs to."

Once Harry got her momentum going she rocked over his taut, muscular thigh gently. Harry kissed her softly and moaned, "See? What they don't know is that this tiger gets his face fucked by the prettiest little pussy. Gets to have your scent all over it. Cause you own it. Don't you, love?"

"Yes." She squeaked pathetically.

She was already so turned on and it wasn't because of the way she was rubbing her cloth-covered clit over his thigh. It was the way he was speaking to her. She could feel herself getting wet slowly and the faster she rocked she noticed Harry's large bulge under his short green trunks.

"Getting him coated, love. Good job, honey. You need a little more? Want to come?"

"Y- yes. I do, Harry..." She lowered her hand from his shoulder to cup his thickened cock, "want this."

"Mmm... want my cock? Want to fuck yourself on my cock? Fuck what's yours?"

She nodded and the look in his eyes turned quickly from soft green to dark and lusty, "Take your bottoms off right now."

She quickly got up to her knees and pulled her swim bottoms down her legs as Harry pulled his green trunks off, his cock bobbing heavily as he leaned his back into the headboard.

She climbed after him, desperate to have him inside of her and she whined as she grasped him and placed his hot, thick crown at her entrance. She paused as she looked him in the eyes but Harry needed her just as much. He put his hands at her waist and pushed her down onto him, groaning lowly at the relief.

"Fuck. This cock is all yours, Y/n. Every bit of me is all yours, darling."

She keened as she felt him inside her guts so deep it ached.

Slowly she began rolling her hips back and forth, grinding her pussy down over him, keeping her clit satisfyingly smeared against his pelivs.

"It's mine," she whined as she put her hands on his shoulders and rocked quickly, the sound of her wet pussy sucking his cock in deep sounded between them.

"Yes it is. Fuck it like you mean it, Y/n. Want to see you own it. Need you to milk me dry."

Y/n gasped when Harry put his hands under her thighs and helped her ride him properly. It was always a task to fuck him this way but so worth the view and the orgasm.

She wanted to make him come so hard. Make him dizzy and mushy and drain his balls of everything he had. She wanted his come inside of her where it belonged. Because it was hers. No one could have Harry in this way. He was her man.

"Yes, baby. Riding me so good. Fuck yourself on me deep, honey. Make yourself come on me baby. Take what's yours, Y/n."

Her chest was getting hot and her thighs were burning as their wet skin slopped together each time she dropped down onto his cock, tucking him deep inside of her so his balls were up against her ass.

Looking down between their bodies it was a sticky, creamy mess. The trimmed hair at the base of Harry's shaft was white with cream and his girthy cock was stretching her out so beautifully.

"Harry! Oh my god. I'm gonna come!"

"Yeah?" Harry widened his thighs and bent his knees the slightest bit so he could take her over the edge and fuck into her so deep she could feel his come in her womb. The moment he began to move his hips into her she yelped and gasped and her fingers dug into his shoulders sharply, "Who's cock is this, baby? Tell me who it belongs to, honey," his words were grunted.

"It's mine! You're mine, Harry!" Her world was spinning as she jolted up each time he punched into her from his position below. His fingers dug into her ass and he clenched his teeth as he began to throb.

"S'right. This cock is yours. I'm yours, Y/n. Fucking gonna make me come aren't you, baby?"

She nodded and then her mouth dropped open and she grew silent as her orgasm washed over her body. Her ears rang as she pulsed over his cock.

Harry choked out a loud moan and filled her to the brim with himself as he stilled his hips and his thigh trembled at the exertion.

Gasps and soft inhaled breaths were stifled when Y/n pushed her lips to his and pressed her chest into his tightly, her arms wrapping around him.

Harry grunted a laugh and pinched her bottom and she jumped.

"Told you I could help. All better now?" Harry cooed at his sweet girl.

Pulling back to look at him she smiled, "All better now."

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @michellekstyles @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysmimi @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @harrys-foxy @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme

[superbat-love]

Bruce lay on the bed with Batman-themed bedsheets, his head resting on the bat-shaped pillow, surrounded by all kinds of Batman merchandise. He stared at a large life-sized poster of Batman above him on the ceiling, currently questioning his own life choices. It seemed a little strange to be hooking up with someone while having his own secret identity glare accusingly at him, but he supposed that there were weirder kinks out there.

The door creaked open and Clark stepped into the room, wiping away the excess water dripping from his freshly washed hair. Bruce sat up on the bed.

“Umm, I hope you don’t mind all my…stuff. As you can probably tell, I’m a huge fan of the hero.”

Bruce smirked flirtatiously at him. “I find it cute actually. How about we pretend that I’m Batman tonight? You can be the big bad villain that I’m apprehending.”

Clark looked sheepish. “I don’t think I’d make a convincing villain. Can I be another superhero? Maybe…Superman?”

Bruce’s smile faltered. Shit, he didn’t think the reporter would want to roleplay as the man whom he actually had feelings for. In the dim lighting of the apartment, the man even had a similar build as his superhero partner and could pass off as him. But this would only be a one-time thing right? Superman would never need to know. Bruce could write this off as temporary insanity caused by his own sleep deprivation.

“Well,” Bruce dropped his voice to a lower register, watching Clark shiver at the sound of his voice and standing up straighter. “Why did you call me here Superman? This better be good.”

Clark slowly approached the bed. Even the careful way he moved, like he was somewhat afraid of scaring him away if he moved too fast, was reminiscent of Superman.

“I don’t truly know why myself,” Clark answered. The look in his eyes was so earnest and hopeful that it hurts. He looked at him as though Bruce was really the Batman that he admired. He was, but Clark did not know that.

Clark took Bruce’s hand in his, and Bruce nearly flinched at the affectionate gesture. “But…I’m really glad you’re here with me tonight Batman.”

[svltzmans]

jealousy, jealousy (part ii) - h.m.

a/n: hi! i got a request for a jealous hope fic and i thought i'd continue the one i posted a while ago that i really had fun writing! i hope you all like it <3

warnings: smut (18+), dominant! hope, edging, rough sex, just some kinky stuff ok, forgive me for i have sinned 😭, also platonic reader and lizzie bc i love her, i didn't edit this so hopefully there are no mistakes?

y/n and lizzie sit across from each other at a table in the library, both engrossed in a biology textbook.

with exam season fast approaching, studying became top priority for almost everyone around them.

through conversation, lizzie and y/n had realized they both could use a study buddy.

y/n never considered herself to be close with lizzie. she always viewed the witch as an acquaintance. a classmate.

but ever since the two had started studying together, they developed a genuine friendship.

a friendship that involved hours in the library after class, laughing and talking despite the subject matter they were supposed to be reviewing.

y/n didn't feel the need to tell her girlfriend, hope, about her budding friendship with lizzie. hope wasn't the type to worry about y/n's friendships, and their relationship was built on trust.

however, when hope walks into the library and sees her girlfriend and lizzie laughing together, her blood suddenly runs cold.

maybe it was because another girl was making y/n laugh so much, or because lizzie was conventionally gorgeous.

either way, she felt the jealousy growing in her lungs.

before she can act on her feelings, she leaves the library, making her way back to her own bedroom.

hope springs up when she hears a knock at the door, and a smile creeps across her face when she realizes it's y/n.

"hey," y/n leans in for a kiss on the cheek, bringing an instantaneous blush to hope.

hope steps to the side, gesturing for y/n to come in.

once y/n is inside and the door is closed behind her, hope takes hold of her wrist in a way that makes y/n's heart drop to her stomach.

"hope, what's up?"

"what's going on with you and lizzie?" hope replies, blankly staring into y/n's eyes.

"lizzie? lizzie saltzman? hope, nothing is going on-"

hope cuts y/n off with a kiss, threading her fingers through strands of her hair.

y/n pulls away momentarily, a puzzled expression on her face.

"what was that for?"

"it just seems like you need a reminder that you're my girl."

"what, i can't study with someone els-"

hope cuts her off again, gently pushing her toward the bed as they kiss.

when hope lays y/n down, she makes sure her hands are wrapped tightly around her wrists to restrict her movement. she hovers above her girlfriend, their lips still attached.

y/n instinctively spreads her legs as her and hope continue to make out, hoping for any kind of touch from the girl above her.

as soon as hope notices, she moves her knee to y/n's still clothed core, putting more and more pressure until she earns a loud moan against her lips.

"mmph, hope, more," y/n mumbles between kisses, trying to grind into hope's leg.

"more, huh baby?" hope taunts, pressing harder with her knee.

y/n can't believe how close she already is, considering that her and hope are still both fully clothed. yet, the pressure in her stomach continues building until she feels like exploding.

"oh my god, hope," y/n practically screams, grabbing onto hope's shoulders.

just as y/n is seconds away from falling over the edge, hope pulls her leg away.

y/n can't help but whine at the loss of contact, and she looks up at hope with a pout.

"you didn't think it was gonna be that easy, did you?" hope teases, pulling y/n into another rough kiss.

hope moves to undo y/n's pants, running her hands up and down her legs slowly.

something in hope wanted to make this as tantalizing as possible for y/n. she wanted to see her writhe and beg, completely at her mercy.

but she also desperately wanted to fuck her.

and that desire only skyrockets when y/n is bare in front of her.

"so wet, y/n. just for me, huh?"

"god, yes hope, just for you."

y/n is growing desperate, and her first denied orgasm wasn't helping. she was flushed, lightly sweating as she continued to sink into the sheets below her.

hope gently rubs y/n's clit with her finger, knowing that she wasn't doing nearly enough for her.

"harder, more, please hope. want more," y/n arches her back, trying to encourage hope to apply more pressure.

it's then that hope effortlessly slides two fingers into y/n, the girl above her letting out a guttural moan.

"fuck hope, just like that baby," y/n praises, her hands both tightly gripping the blanket under her.

"this is what you wanted, huh pretty? you wanted me to fuck you with my fingers?"

y/n can't help but loudly whine at her girlfriend's words, growing dangerously close once again.

"gonna cum on your fingers, hope, so close."

when hope hears those words come from y/n's mouth, she stops moving completely.

"please don't stop hope, please. please make me cum," y/n begs, making eye contact with her girlfriend.

hope's eyes are dark with desire as she looks back at y/n, her finger lazily rubbing circles on y/n's clit.

"please, hope. gonna be a good girl for you."

with that, hope continues fingering y/n at a quickening pace, determined to finally bring her over the edge.

"right there hope. my god, please let me cum."

"cum for me, y/n. you've earned it."

y/n's whole body shakes, her hands desperately trying to find something to grip. the intensity of her orgasm wasn't something she had ever experienced before, the new sensation making her shamelessly scream in pleasure.

when y/n comes down from her high, hope has moved to lay next to her.

"you look so pretty," hope coos, tucking a strand of y/n's hair behind her ear.

"hope, you know there's nothing going on with me and lizzie, right?"

"i trust you, y/n. wholeheartedly. i love you," hope smiles, resting her hand on y/n's cheek.

"i love you more."

before hope knows it, y/n is peacefully asleep next to her.

she wraps her arms around her girlfriend, pulling a blanket over the two of them.

"goodnight, my love."

[suuuupernovaaa]

kurkung

kurkung [ˈkuɾ.kuŋ] n. asshole (vulgar)

Request from @darrarii: Could I request a Neteyam x reader where the reader's blunt and kind ofbitchy. The Sullys are arriving and meeting Aonung's best friend (the reader) and he hears her say some randomly blunt and out of pocket stuff under her breath. I live for kind and loving readers but imagine neteyam and reader just side eyeing people together.

Aonung nudges me, removing my focus from the task at hand, and I turn to admonish him. I have been working on this net all day, and I am nearly done. I have also asked him nearly ten times to quit bothering me while I work, but Aonung never listens to anyone who isn't Aonung.

"Look!" he says, and points. Above us fly five beasts, ikran, and it's a sight to behold. My anger melts away and I stand with Aonung and Roxto, who is never far off, our mouths agape. "Visitors."

Aonung charges forward, and Roxto scrambles to follow. I carefully set aside the net I've been working on, and have to jog to catch up.

The riders are dismounting as our clan gathers on the beach, gawking and whispering. They are strange people, a deeper blue than us, and I think they must be from the forest. Ikrans, dark blue, and as I get closer, I see their thin arms and tails.

What business do they have here, in the ocean?

They're a family, clearly. A mother, a father, and four children. The eldest look to be around our age, maybe 18 or 19, and the youngest cannot yet be ten. I must admit, she is very cute, but the features on the older boys make them look weak. They won't be able to swim, or hold their breath - but maybe they're just passing through.

Aonung and Roxto approach, and Aonung points out one of their tails.

"Is that supposed to be a tail?" Aonung asks, and Roxto laughs.

"It would be better to have no tail at all, than that useless little thing," I say to Aonung, who smiles at me. One of the boys turns his eyes to me, glaring, and I shrug.

I'm sure his tail is fine where he's from. Here, it will be little more than a nuisance to him.

Tsireya approaches, and slaps Roxto as he laughs, admonishing him and her brother, Aonung. She gives me a sideways glance, but again, I shrug.

"They do look strange, Tsireya," I say.

"As strange as we look to them," she replies. Where Aonung and I are harsh, Tsireya is soft and caring. I admire those characteristics about her, but don't see a use for them myself.

When I turn my attention back to the newcomers, the mother is telling our chief, Aonung's father, how her husband was Toruk Makto.

That grabs my attention - everyone knows the legend of Toruk Makto. I just imagined him to be... something different. I guess I pictured one of us, even though I knew he was a forest person.

"Toruk Makto is a Great War leader," Tonowari says, and I lean over to Aonung.

"I don't want a war here," I say to him, and he glances down at me, and nods once.

Again, one of the older boys looks to me, but he doesn't look annoyed this time - he looks sad.

"Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us," Tonowari says when I turn my attention back to him. Just a moment later, he's promising that Aonung and Tisreya will teach their children our ways.

I know what this means - I'll be roped into it too, as will Roxto. The three of us have always been somewhat of a package deal.

At least, I tell myself, this could be interesting.

--

I sigh and grab Neteyam's hands. "Bah, Neteyam!" I exclaim. "Are you watching me?"

He rolls hie eyes for the 100th time that day. "I am! You're going too fast. Slow down."

I have done the phrase what I think is slowly a dozen times, but he is still not picking it up. I am starting to think that these forest people are going to be hopelessly useless here, and I worry about them, just a little.

"Once more," I say, and move so slowly that it feels as if I am hardly moving at all. "Where... are... we.... going..."

Finally, when he repeats the gesture to me, it is correct.

"Yes!" I exclaim. "That's right, Neteyam!"

He smiles and laughs, and the sight of it... does something to me. I have seen Aonung smile a million times. He laughs with me every day. But never before has it made me feel this way.

There's a strange feeling, almost a fluttering in my stomach, and I snap my eyes away, trying to focus, but it isn't easy, not when he's still smiling.

--

Often, I find myself making excuses to be around Neteyam. I tell myself he must need help riding his ilu, learning how to slow his heart and hold his breath, or adding more finger speak to his lexicon.

Even as it becomes increasingly clear that he really doesn't need anyone's help anymore, I still find myself there, always there, offering a hand or a correction.

He never turns me away.

"Will the Sullys be stealing all of our women?" Aonung asks me as we ride our ilus together, the first time we have been alone since our arrival.

A pit settles in my stomach. I knew that Lo'ak and Tisreya had eyes on each other, but I hadn't known Neteyam had shown interested in anyone. I wonder who it could possibly be, and how have I not noticed?

Just the thought of him showing interest in another woman makes me sick, and I have to finally admit to myself that I care about the forest boy. Since the moment I saw him smile, he's nearly all that I think about. When we aren't together, I wonder what he's doing, wonder how he's adjusting to life here. I find excuses every day to talk to him, and I would even call us friends.

I'm hurt that he has found a woman, and I was unaware.

"What do you mean?" I ask, trying to keep the emotions off of my face and failing.

"First my sister, now my best friend," Aonung says, shaking his head.

"Me? And Neteyam? Bah, Aonung, no."

He rolls his eyes. "Don't treat me like I'm stupid. You like each other. I never thought you would stoop so low."

"Aonung!" I exclaim. "You are too harsh. They have been through a lot, and even you can't deny, they've adapted well here."

He rolls his eyes once more, and dives under and darts away from me. I want to be mad at him, but I'm too busy wondering if he's right - does Neteyam like me?

I have never been one to dance around what I want or how I'm feeling. Sometimes, I have been told, this comes off as being too harsh, a jerk, unfeeling and mean. I try to deliver the truth kindly, and only deliver it if it needs to be said, but I don't always know where the line is.

I don't worry about all of that now. When I return to shore, I head to where I know Neteyam and his family are staying, and hover in the doorway only a moment.

His mother and sisters are there, but not him.

"Do you know where Neteyam is?" I ask, and his mother's eyes snap up to mine.

"Fishing," the youngest replies. "Just left."

I nod and smile. "Thank you, Tuk."

--

It takes me a while to find Neteyam, who has swam far and found a little-used beach where the good fish rarely come. He couldn't have known that, so I hold my tongue on chiding him.

"Neteyam!" I yell as I step up onto the beach.

He turns, a spare in his hand, ready to launch, and smiles. "Y/N! How did you find me?"

"Well, I've been looking a long time. There aren't really good fish here, Neteyam. I can show you better spots."

He sighs and lowers his spear. "Damn. Okay."

"I want to ask you something," I say as I reach him, shaking the water from my hair. "Do you like me?"

He looks a little taken aback, with eyes wide, his tail swishing from side to side. "Like you? Yeah, I like you. You've been a good friend."

"No, no," I reply, stepping forward, shortening the gap between us. "Romantically, I mean. Aonung said he thought you did. And I like you. Romantically. So, I am asking."

When the confusion fades from his face, it is replaced with soft eyes and a wide, beautiful smile. "You are very straight-forward."

"I know. Most people don't like it, or like me. That's why I'm asking. I thought Aonung could be wrong."

"He's not," Neteyam replies. "I do like you. The first day on the beach, I did not," he tells me with a chuckle, "but I just thought you were... an asshole. I don't think so anymore. I think you just say what you are thinking, and it's kind of nice. I never have to wonder how you feel about something. And you've always been patient and kind to me, even when you didn't have to be."

Though Neteyam is right and I usually do speak my mind, my mind currently is a garbled up mess of joy and a little bit of fear. What will it mean, to fall in love with this forest boy? What will be permitted? Do we have a future together?

I'm not sure it makes sense to worry about that now. What I know is, nothing has ever made me as happy as Neteyam has. I wake up every morning, wondering what part of the day I will get to spend with him. To be assured that, going forward, I get to spend every single day with him... it is the greatest happiness I have ever known.

I am speechless. I wrap my arms around his waist and place my head on his chest, listening to his strong, loud heartbeat as he wraps his arms around my shoulders. I feel his chin resting on my head, and I take deep, slow breaths, enjoying this moment.

"I'm sorry I didn't make a good first impression. I'm glad you were able to look past it."

He reaches under my chin, tilting my head up to him, and places a soft, quick kiss on my lips.

Too soft. Too quick.

"You are lucky you are so beautiful, or I may not have given you another chance," he says with a wink and a teasing smile.

I want to shove him away for the comment, but I can't bear to tear myself away from him. Plus, he certainly owes me one.

I'll get him back tomorrow.

[bella-rose29]

How's your sister?

Nikolai x f!Verkov!reader

Nikolai falls in love with his best friend's sister, much to Dominik's (apparent) annoyance.

I've mixed stuff from the books and from the show which is why they're Verkov's (I don't think Dominik has a last name in the books but someone let me know if he does).

This is also an apology for Golden Boy (please forgive me, part two will be out soon).

Word count: 3k (It wasn't meant to be this long I got carried away oops)

Warnings: mentions of being shot, people getting punched (really only Nikolai, poor guy), swearing, a very fast-moving relationship at the end

Tag list: @bubybubsters, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @karensirkobabes, @kentucky-criedfricken, @notoakay, @naushtheaspiringauthor, @el-de-phi, @simbaaas-stuff

Nikolai met his best friend when he was 9 years old.

He didn't know it at the time, but Dominik would be his rock in the tidal wave that was life at court, and the two boys would be inseparable, no matter how far they were from each other.

They were sat in class, Dominik terrified of every movement, jumping and startled at any loud noise or harsh word, and when Nikolai's misbehaviour led to Dominik's pain, the prince knew that he had to change his attitude, the kindness in his heart outweighing his love for pranks. After that day, Nikolai was the perfect student, attentive and listening, although he quickly became friends with Dominik, creating a secret code to talk to each other in lessons, and spending the rest of their time running around in fields with the each other, covering themselves in dirt and grass stains.

When the two boys were 12, Nikolai had his first proper family meal at Dominik's house. He had snuck out in the evening, going unnoticed by everyone, and knocked on their door. Dominik had answered, giddy with joy that his friend had made it, but embarrassed at the state of their farm compared to the luxury that Nikolai was used to. Nikolai didn't mind at all, complimenting every detail and feeling more at home in this run-down house than he ever had in the palace, and Mrs Verkov's cooking was so good he thought he might have died and gone to heaven. He did the washing up, despite the family's protests, then reluctantly let Dominik help with the drying. His older brother was soon to go join the army, as Nikolai found out that night, and Dominik was worried for his safety.

It wasn't until years later that Nikolai would be able to help their family, but for now they were the ones helping him, giving him an escape and a place to just be himself (although Dominik's parents kept calling him 'moi tsarevich', and refused to use any other name).

One summer evening, the boys now 14, Nikolai was having dinner with Dominik's family again, laughing as he set out the cutlery and joking with his friend. A knock sounded on the door, startling the prince and making him drop a fork. Dominik rushed to the door, practically bouncing off of the walls, and as he bent down to retrieve the implement he listened to the sound of excited voices by the door. He had barely finished standing up and brushing the dust off of his knees when Dominik returned, pulling a girl along by her hand and chucking her bag in a corner.

"Dom! Be careful with that, it's got all my stuff in it!" she scolded lightheartedly, and Saints her voice was the most magical thing he had ever heard. She poked his friend in the side, laughing when he recoiled, and Nikolai decided that her laugh was even more magical than her voice.

"Oh, this is my friend, Nikolai," Dominik said, gesturing towards the golden haired boy. "Nikolai, this is my sister, Y/n. She just got back from boarding school in the south." Nikolai stared dumbly at her, face going pink. She was beautiful.

"Hi," she said, sticking her hand out. He took it, offering a shaky smile.

"Hi," he replied. "Wait." He furrowed his brow. "Are you sure he's your brother? Because I'm not seeing any resemblance here. I mean, you're gorgeous and he's... Dom." At her laugh, he flushed more deeply, and realised he was still holding her hand. It was warm, and soft, and he never wanted to let go.

She leaned in close, speaking in a loud whisper. "I'm fully convinced we're not actually related and he was swapped with my real brother, because you're totally right, I am stunning."

"You know that I can hear you both, right? I am stood right here. But please, by all means, go ahead." A wicked gleam entered his expression, and he opened his mouth to speak again. "Maybe I should talk about the time that Nikolai-" he was cut off by a hand slapping over his mouth, eyes going wide with silent laughter as he took in Nikolai's panicked expression.

"Please. I'm begging you, no embarrassing stories." Dominik nodded, still holding back his laugh, and Nikolai slowly removed his hand.

"I'll consider it. I'm expecting you to make it up to me at some point, you bastard."

"Language!" his mother shouted from the second room, and all three of them burst into giggles, with Y/n snorting loudly. "Dinner's ready too!" They made their way to the table, Nikolai engineering it so that he was sat next to Y/n after getting another set of cutlery for her. They talked about anything and everything, learning things about each other and pelting mash at Dominik when he commented on how close they already were.

"How come you go to boarding school?" he asked at one point, curiosity getting the better of him.

"My aunt is on the governor's board, but she refuses to send us any money. Luckily for me, she believes that 'all young ladies should have a proper education'," - at her fake posh voice, Nikolai laughed - "so she convinced them to take me in on a scholarship. Don't have to pay for a thing."

When dinner was over, washing up done and goodbyes said, Nikolai didn't want to leave. He'd had fun, more than he had in a while (which had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he had a crush on his best friend's sister), and he knew that tomorrow would be gruelling, filled with meetings and extended time with old ministers. The walk home was cold, the sun having set hours ago and clouds covering the night sky. When he went to bed that night, he couldn't stop thinking about Y/n.

~~~

The next time Nikolai saw Dominik, he immediately asked "How's your sister?" and his friend groaned.

"No, absolutely not. I am not doing this with you," he wagged a finger in Nikolai's direction, walking off in the direction of the lake, the prince jogging to catch up.

"Not doing what? I'm just asking a question," he said.

"You're not though, because I saw you the other night, chatting her up and everything, and as much as I love you, Nik, I also love my sister."

Nikolai spluttered, searching for the right words to convince his friend that his sister was Nikolai's soulmate (maybe a little over the top, but then again Nikolai was always one to have a flair for the dramatic).

"I was not chatting her up! And if I was, I would have done it so well we'd already be married, thank you!"

"You have far too much confidence in your abilities, Nikolai. You were chatting her up, and you were doing it badly." They reached the lake, sitting down on the grassy bank and going silent for a few minutes. Dominik sighed. "She's fine, if you must know. Asked where you were yesterday, since we were having a whole family meal again."

"Really? She asked about me?" He perked up at that, mind already racing with thoughts of her.

"Yes, she did. But not in a 'I want to marry him' way, just in a 'I'm a nice person and I'm curious' way, so don't get your hopes up." Nikolai nodded, smile on his face. He couldn't stop thinking about it all day, or the next, or in fact for the rest of the week, and when he next saw her, he'd planned everything out so meticulously, nothing could go wrong.

~~~

He face-planted in front of her.

He hadn't meant to, obviously, but he'd been distracted at seeing her in the Palace gardens, and had lost his footing, tripping over his own feet. She'd seen him walking and waved, shocking him and making him fall.

Rushing over and very clearly trying not to laugh, she helped him up, asking if he was okay.

"I'm alright, Y/n. Thought I was going to step on... a frog," he winced at his terrible excuse, then at the state of his clothes (state: covered in mud), but she didn't seem to mind. "How come you're here?"

"School trip. Something about how one day we'll all be in court if we're lucky, and marry rich. Personally I think prof just wants to get a good look at all the fancy women, since he's apparently a 'ladies' man'," she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder as she gestured to her teacher and Nikolai laughed. "Are you sure you're okay? Can't have been a soft landing."

"Seriously, I'm fine. I've had worse, like when Dominik shoved me in the river that one time."

"Well, as long as you're alright. Wouldn't want to damage your pretty face now, would we?" she said, then turned and walked off, a skip in her step as she rejoined her friend. He stared at her retreating form, blush creeping up his neck and onto his face as he took in her words.

Did she just...?

How come he was the hopeless one, and she was the one flirting? He chalked it down to the fact he'd fallen over, and wasn't quite himself because of it, then brushed himself off slightly and kept walking.

~~~

When Nikolai was 16, he was obligated to take his year of service in the army, and Dominik went with him. Instead of taking the usual position of power, Nikolai joined the infantry, becoming a normal soldier with the people of his country and building up connections with them.

For the past two years, every time he had seen Dominik (which had lessened the past year after Dominik's family were banned from the Palace) he had always started off with the question "How's your sister?" and although he had said it was just a joke now, Dominik knew his friend better. He always rolled his eyes in response, and eventually smiled about it too, after the night before they left for the army.

Nikolai had come over after the celebration at the Palace, sneaking out in the dark despite having been caught by Vasily the year before, not needing light since he knew the way like the back of his hand. Arriving at the farm, he knocked on the door, catching his breath for a moment.

He promptly lost it, however, when Y/n answered the door, juggling the handle and a towel as she dried her hair. She'd been back at school the past two years, staying there over the summer, so he hadn't seen her, but Saints, had she gotten more beautiful? She'd clearly just washed her hair, robe tied tightly around her and her hair wet and limp around her face, but Nikolai couldn't help but think of her as stunning.

"Are you going to come in, or keep standing there with your mouth open?"

He quickly shut it, then the door behind him, blushing (he seemed to do that a lot around her) at having been caught. He could never tell if she felt the same way or if that was just how she acted, but he hadn't seen her with anyone else to know.

"Aren't we all banned from seeing you, or something?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Everybody's having a party about me being sent off into certain doom, so it was easy to get out. I won't stay long, I just wanted to see your parents before I leave tomorrow."

"Well we're all in here, sorry about this," she gestured to herself. "Just had a bath since I got back from school about an hour ago. Carriage was boiling, I was practically sweating my tits off in there." He malfunctioned slightly as he tried to not think of her in the bath (it didn't work), laughing belatedly at her final comment. She looked at him weirdly, smiling in confusion, then moved into the family room.

"Nik! What are you doing here?!" Dominik jumped up, swiftly embracing his friend in a hug so tight he thought his lungs might burst.

"Couldn't resist. Besides, how's your sister?" the last part was whispered, a smirk on Nikolai's face.

"Why don't you ask her yourself, dumbass, given she is also in the room."

"Ask who what?" Y/n piped up, picking up on the fact the boys were having a conversation.

"Yeah Nik, what did you wanna ask?"

"Oh, just... How are you, Y/n? Haven't seen you in a while, is all. You still look gorgeous, by the way," he finished with a wink, revelling in her faint blush and small laugh.

"Thanks, Nik. I'm alright, school's horrible, though. Not that I'm complaining, mother, I just don't enjoy having to sit with a pole up my back for 10 hours every day." Nikolai and Dominik winced at the idea, and the prince could sympathise. He'd had the same training when he was younger, and eventually it got so bad he sat with such perfect posture the broom was never seen again (and definitely not because he'd burned it).

Dominik's mother stood, wrapping Nikolai in a hug similar to the one he'd received from her son not too long ago, and Nikolai mourned his possibly bruised ribs. His father did the same, slapping both boys on the back and congratulating them, wishing them the best.

Nikolai sat with them for another twenty minutes (at the request of Mrs Verkov, and he couldn't really say no when she presented a cup of tea), then got up to leave, saying his goodbyes to Dominik's family and promising to find his friend tomorrow.

"I'll walk you out," Y/n said, and he followed her out to the front door, waving at her parents and Dominik.

She stood nearby as he shrugged his jacket on, then as he turned to leave, she pulled him into a hug, and he realised she was crying.

"Promise me you'll be careful?" she sniffed, wiping the tears off of her cheeks when she pulled back from his chest. He moved her hand away, brushing his thumb over her face in a softer attempt to remove the tears.

"Promise."

"Okay. You'll... you'll come back to me- to us, right? Alive and in one piece?" His heart leapt at the idea that she wanted him to come back to her, and he nodded, hand still holding her face.

"Alive and in one piece. I'll come back to you, I promise." She nodded, then hesitated for a split second before pushing herself up onto her tiptoes and kissing him on the cheek.

"I'll see you in a year then, Kolya." And she turned and walked back into the other room.

"See you in a year," he muttered, fingers pressing to the space where her lips had been.

~~~

When Nikolai returned from the army, he redoubled his previous efforts to get the court to like him, becoming even more charming and likeable than he had been before. He told himself it was because he was the spare, and therefore needed some way of garnering support within a group of people that were more likely to favour his brother, but really it was because he'd heard that Y/n was getting married.

He hadn't seen her since he'd come back, but when he had met up with Dominik a few days ago, he asked his usual "How's your sister?" expecting the normal rolling of eyes and vague response. Instead, he received a wary look, and the knowledge that she was engaged. Nikolai had gone numb inside, and had thrown himself into becoming the person that court wanted him to be, all the way up until he had gone to University.

Running away and becoming Sturmhond was one of the best decisions he had ever made, but he thought about Y/n every day. Sailing the True Sea had been a dream they'd had together, and now that he was doing it without her, he couldn't help but feel the pang of longing for her company, married or not. He couldn't bring himself to find out anything about her life, not wanting to die of heartbreak when he found out about her incredibly handsome husband, their five children and a dog (maybe a little dramatic, but still).

Then Alina Starkov had turned up, and turned his world upside down.

After spending time with her hunting the Sea Whip, he figured that a back up plan would be needed, and decided that an alliance between the Lantsov throne and the powerful Sun Summoner would be beneficial. She would make an excellent leader, and in time he was sure they could grow to love each other.

Then he'd had to reveal his identity when they crash landed in the Ravkan first army, and she'd punched him in the face.

Dominik came over, laughing at his friend who was now clutching his nose, but bringing him into a tight hug all the same.

"Long time no see, how have you been?" he asked.

"Oh, same old, same old. Sailing around, destroying enemy ships, tracking mythical sea monsters, the usual. How's your sister?"

Dominik rolled his eyes, a smile forming on his face. Nikolai had told him that Y/n had kissed his cheek when they were in the army, gushing about it and how hopeless he was, and Dominik had agreed. It wasn't long after that his friend, albeit reluctantly, decided he wouldn't mind having Nikolai as a brother, and had warmed up to the idea of his best friend and sister being together.

"She's alright. You could always ask her yourself, though." Nikolai frowned, not understanding his meaning.

"Why do you want to know about his sister?" Alina cut in, still mad about the betrayal but curiosity outweighing it.

Dominik laughed. "Because he's hopelessly in love with her. Seriously, I can't get him to shut up about how she's 'the most beautiful girl I've ever seen', or how 'she's the-'" Nikolai shoved him, and Dominik stopped talking to prevent himself from falling over, breaking off into more loud laughter.

"Shut up," he muttered, face going red. Alina was smirking, and had apparently (for now) gotten over her earlier fury. "What did you mean, ask her myself? She's off in some country house with her rich husband, isn't she?"

"Nope. Never actually got married. Not when he found out I didn't like riding a horse sidesaddle."

Nikolai whipped round at the new voice, then stared in shock at the woman in front of him, looking somehow even more beautiful than the day he'd left her.

"Y/n," he said, the word spoken almost like a prayer. "You're... you're here. Wait, why are you here?" She laughed lightly, and Saints he'd missed that sound.

"Joined the army. As a medik, don't worry. I'm not actually on the front lines or anything, I just stay back here, tending to the wounded. Speaking of wounded people, who punched you? Because your nose is bleeding a little bit."

"I did, sorry," Alina spoke up, and Y/n just smiled, shaking her head.

"He probably deserved it, to be honest. I don't know what he did, but I'm sure I would have done the same."

Great, now they were bonding over the desire to punch him in the face. Y/n walked over, using a scrap of cloth to wipe the blood off his face, then throwing her arms around him in a hug.

"I've missed you, Kolya."

"I missed you too."

She pulled back, inspecting his face for a few moments. He was nervous, butterflies fluttering in his stomach as he realised that the last time they'd been this close, she'd kissed him on the cheek. He didn't have to worry about that this time, though, since she pulled even further away, and before he could miss her warmth, she slapped him.

"What was that for?!" He held his face for the second time in the last ten minutes, looking at her incredulously as she stood with her hands on her hips.

Pointing a finger at him, she said "For getting shot, you dipshit! And for leaving without telling me, and for never writing!" Before he could apologise, however, she brought her hands up to his face and kissed him on the lips. He froze, arms hanging in the air awkwardly and eyes open wide, then relaxed, bringing his arms around her waist and closing his eyes as he kissed her back. He was just about to slip his tongue in when a very obvious cough sounded from his left, and he reluctantly pulled away to see Dominik watching with a disgusted look.

"If you're going to suck face, please do it where I can't see you. I do not need to ever see my best friend and my sister making out ever again, thanks." He shuddered, then pretended to gag.

"Okay," Y/n replied, and before Nikolai could do anything, she'd grabbed his arm and was dragging him off to a tent. When they were inside, he realised it was her tent, seeing the little decorations that were so completely her. She stopped abruptly, causing him to crash into her back. "Shit, sorry, I didn't think I was gonna have anyone in here, to be honest, so it's a mess. Let me just-"

"Darling, you know I've seen Dominik's tent, right? This is perfection compared to the mess he creates," Nikolai cut her off, stopping her from tidying the space. "What was the kiss for?"

"You- what?! Saints, Nikolai, I thought you were meant to be smart?" She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Because I love you, idiot. I always have." He gaped at her, before remembering himself and closing his mouth.

"You have?"

"Yeah. Dom was pissed when he found out I liked you, though. Not sure why, given how close you two are. Thought he would have been glad to have you as an official member of the family, as an actual brother. But yes, I have loved you since that night we talked about what we would do if we were free, and you spoke about it as if we were both going. I knew I was a goner then, because of how easily you talked about your future as though I would always be a part of it. So yeah, I love you, Nikolai Lantsov. That's what the kiss was for."

"I love you too. I would have taken you with me, on the True Sea, like we'd planned, but I thought... well I thought you were married, so I didn't ask. Also it wasn't really planned, I just had an opportunity so I took it and-" he was cut off by her mouth on his, and she was smiling into the kiss.

"I get it, Kolya, you don't need to explain, alright? But next time I'm expecting an invite, no excuses."

"Of course. I love you," he said again, smiling broadly. He would quite happily spend the rest of his life telling her those three words over and over again, doing nothing else, and having no regrets. The next two words that came out of his mouth he hadn't planned to say, but they happened anyway.

"Marry me."

She froze in place, and Nikolai worried that he'd gone too far, opening his mouth to take back the words.

"Yes."

Now it was his turn to freeze, seconds later breaking into a grin as he picked her up and spun her around, kissing her when he set her down.

"Wait," she said, brow furrowed, and his heart skipped a beat in fear. "What about the court? They'll never accept me."

"I don't care. I love you, and I'm not wasting another minute of my life being without you. Besides, it'll be good for them. It's not like you're uneducated, you went to a fancy boarding school. And if that's not enough we can come up with some bullshit story about how we're marrying to 'unite the different classes of Ravka' and it'll be beneficial for keeping the 'commoners' on side," he used the same fake posh voice she had all those years ago at the dinner table, and she giggled, nodding as he made his argument. "We'll know that we're marrying for love, and so will the people that most matter, like your family. They're the only opinions I care about, alright?"

"Alright." She was smiling widely, joy written all over her face as she took in his words. Seconds later, fear crossed her features. "Oh fuck."

"What? What is it?" He panicked, thinking she was already having second thoughts.

"Dominik. He's going to freak out when we tell him. Poor boy can only just handle us kissing, what's he going to do when we're married?" Nikolai laughed, loud and booming, hands coming to hold her waist.

"He'll just have to deal with it. He dealt with all the pining for years, I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Pining? You were pining for me? Aw, Kolya, that's adorable!"

"Yeah yeah," he grumbled. "Like you weren't also pining for me, darling."

~~~

When they emerged from the tent a while later, holding hands and blushing, speaking to each other in soft whispers, Dominik could only smile affectionately, having overheard the whole conversation.

"Idiots. I've been planning this wedding since they met."

[icallhimjoey]

Here I come with a request after i’ve fallen in love with your writing …. How about something inspired by the song Black Treacle from the arctic monkeys? Like maybe you just moved to London in an apartment and you go up to the roof for a smoke or fresh air one night and … none other than Joe is up there, smoking ?

Again i looooove how you write, it just the perfect thing for us thirty somethings ❤️

okay SO, thank you for this request, it made my brain go SCHLOOMP and it's the first request ive done in a good while so, look what you did! (also sorry if its bad) Wordcount: 3.5K

---

Sticky Skies

Joe knew he was in trouble when he turned down hanging with a friend because it would collide with his balcony moment. Your balcony moment. He realised then, when he stayed home for it and you didn't show that night, that it had become a problem.

It took a while for it to settle within him, because for too long, he'd just wanted to believe he was being totally normal about you. His neighbour. His cute, pretty, witty neighbour that he somehow never seemed to run into outside of the moments you spent on your balconies together.

It started weeks ago. Months, if he was really honest, and he'd grown addicted way too fast. He didn't even count the first few times when you'd just smiled at each other and nothing more but a hey, or a good night, would pass your lips besides the cigarette smoke.

That first time, you'd opened the your door to an empty balcony, and immediately closed your jacket tighter around your body at the feel of the cold air. When you turned to close the door, you jumped a little when you saw your neighbour right next to you on his balcony. The banisters of either balcony might as well not have been there, if you placed two chairs next to the sides, you would practically be sharing a bench. You were close enough to touch just standing there, and so you did, out of politeness, and shook hands as you introduced yourselves.

Your neighbour seemed friendly. He had a kind face, nice hair and... big hands. None of it intimidating. Actually quite the opposite. He wore posh clothes, but, they didn't fit him right, which only made him more approachable.

Amazing. You had a kind neighbour! One that also looked... good. Hot? Good. Definitely good.

You'd only just moved in and still had get to get furniture for out there, so you leant against the cold metal, facing the door to your flat, and saw Joe copy you even though he had chairs, a small bench, a table and even a bike out on his balcony.

It was a little awkward, you didn't really say anything, but you also didn't bury yourself into your phone - neither of you did. You just stood, and smoked silent cigarettes and you stared at your own reflection in the window and would occasionally look up at the black night skies and blow up cigarette smoke into it.

It happened like that a few times, until one evening, you went out and Joe was out there too, and he immediately commented on the new chairs you'd placed outside earlier that day.

"You got chairs!"

You huffed a laugh through your nostrils, smiled and said, "I did!" before you sat down. "They're insanely uncomfortable for the price I paid," you followed in the same chipper upbeat voice, and laughed at yourself.

"They look nice, though, expensive," Joe blew out smoke and gestured behind him at all of his outdoor furniture, "This is all trash,"

You took a better look, nodded and said, "It looks it," which made Joe laugh.

Exchanging pleasantries in the dark, only illuminated by the lights from inside your flats, you smoked cigarettes and got to know each other better. You told Joe you worked in an office as an administrative assistant, very exciting stuff. Joe said he did something similar and then said he was an actor, which made you go, "Oh yea, totally the same thing, wow, we have so much in common," and you'd both laughed.

You knew the amount of rent you paid, so you immediately accused Joe of either being famous or a big fat liar, and he'd just said, "I'm sure you'll figure it out.".

So, famous, you concluded. Definitely famous.

Quick late night cigarettes on your adjoining balconies slowly turned from 5-minute quick before bed smokes to long two-hour conversations every night. You shared cigarettes if one of you ran out, would sometimes even pass the same cig back and forth for a bit, and had moved seats into the corners of your balconies so you essentially sat next to each other and talked through the metal spindles.

Joe told you about the other neighbours in your building, quietly, so none of them heard, and filled you in on who filled the halls with amazing smelling food, who would steal packages if you left them out too long, who had sex the loudest, and who complained about it the most.

You told Joe about why you'd moved into the building, about a relationship ending because your old flatmate shagged him behind your back for weeks.

Joe was shocked, said the same thing happened to him a couple of years ago. You cheersed cigarettes through the spindles, toasted to people being awful, and deemed the building you lived in the perfect spot for the heartbroken.

Right after, you both said you were actually fine, didn't want the other to think you were sad and lonely, because you didn't feel sad or lonely at all. But then neither of you mentioned that these late night cigarette chats were kind of the reason why.

"It really is a nice place, it's just... it's such a trek from the tube," you complained.

"It's a 15 minute walk," Joe chuckled.

"Not with these little legs!" to demonstrate, you took teeny tiny little quick steps around your balcony with straight legs, very obviously overdoing it for the bit.

"Is that how you walk?" Joe laughed and instantly copied you. "How do you still have functioning knees?"

If him shuffling across his balcony like an idiot didn't make you laugh, his facial expression sure did it.

It became a special thing, your balcony moments with Joe. Something you started looking forward to.

On especially cold nights, you'd drag a blanket out, and after about a month of talking, you saw Joe shiver and pushed one end of the blanket through the slats. It was a little awkward, and you both had to curl your legs up onto your seats to make it work, but then, it covered the two of you perfectly. When, after about an hour, Joe went inside to make the both of you some tea that he passed to you over the banisters, you ended up outside for far longer than you'd anticipated.

But Joe was just your neighbour, and you couldn't remember ever running into him outside. You hadn't exchanged numbers, or ever spoke about what time you'd meet again the next day - it was always accidental, sometimes right after dinner, other times just before bed, and you liked how even without setting anything up, you always found each other to end the day together.

Joe was also good looking. And very funny. Which, you know, helped.

When the temperatures softened a little, and spring slowly pushed more time into the evenings, you found yourself sitting outside just to catch the nice sunsets.

Joe caught you outside in your pyjamas, fuzzy socks, hair high up on your head and your face covered in a sheet-mask.

"Pfffff," Joe was immediately laughing at the sight of you as you were using the tips of your fingers to push the edges of the mask back onto your skin to make sure they stuck.

"Who are you and what have you done to my lovely neighbour?!"

"Yea, all right, laugh all you like," you said through narrowed eyes. "I'm going to look amazing after this, all hydrated, so moisturized," you mused and saw Joe quirk an eyebrow as he lit a cigarette. Then you saw his fingers absentmindedly find a dry patch of skin between his brows to rub at, and a smirk grew on your face.

"Hang on," you said and darted inside only to emerge seconds later, two hands unfolding another sticky sheet mask.

"Come here," you said, beckoning Joe closer to the banister with your head, and even though Joe frowned a little, he obliged and stepped closer.

"This is gonna be cold and gooey, but trust me, it'll be so nice after,"

Joe leant forward a little, cigarette held back as he closed his eyes, wholly accepting that you were about to touch his face. "Ooh that feels disgusting," he immediately commented through tight lips. "Don't talk! You'll get it in your mouth!" you said, unable to hold your giggles back.

Your fingertips softly tapped and pressed the wet fabric over every single inch of Joe's face, and Joe forgot to breathe for a moment.

You noticed how long Joe's eyelashes were, and had to be extra careful to make sure they wouldn't get trapped underneath the mask.

"Mmmh, this is like a massage," Joe said after a little while, eyes still closed, now smiling.

It was nice, being so close to Joe, having him be so open to letting you touch him all over. It made you spent way too long applying the sheet, passing your tapping finger tips all over his face twice. Cheekbones, browbones, hairline, jawline, his nose... Joe's face was nice.

You spent the rest of the night both wearing white sheet-masks, Joe trying his best not to get any of the liquid onto his cigarette until it had all dried, and you trying not to giggle every time you looked at him.

The next day, a loud knock echoed throughout your living room after you'd just walked in after work and you opened the balcony door to find Joe leaning over with a bowl of pasta.

"Here," he passed it to you, his face not giving anything away.

"Ooh, what's this?" you accepted immediately and sat down before Joe passed you a fork.

"I made too much and I'm out of town for the next four days, so I hoped I'd get you before you'd had any dinner,"

You were already munching and groaned at how great it tasted. Fuck, Joe was a good cook. This was a very welcome and a skillfully casual way of letting you know Joe wasn't going to be joining you for late night cigarettes for a few days.

"This is so great, I had an awful day but... what the fuck, I can't even remember what happened,"

Joe smiled warmly and sat down with a bowl of his own.

"Talk to me," he then said. "Why was your day so bad?"

"I honestly can't remember," you laughed, obviously joking.

For a moment you ate in silence, and then, you unleashed everything. Talked through all the shitty things. The lack of communication at work. Your new shoes that gave you blisters. The deadlines that were impossible. And Joe just listened. Ate his pasta and encouraged you to take bites in between your rambling. Joe kind of loved it. Felt like he was taking care of you a little. Fed you. Let you get all of your frustrations out. There was something cute about you when you got all worked up. He also didn't mind how you talked with your mouth full of his food. Gross, he knew, but he was weirdly into it. Couldn't explain it if he tried.

When you finished the food and your rant, you passed Joe his bowl back and asked, "Beer?" and Joe thought for a second and said, "Sure," before you both disappeared inside for a second, gathered whatever you needed for a full evening on the balcony together.

This was just what you did now. It was almost like having a flatmate. One that you didn't share your actual flat with, which, with your previous flatmate experience, was actually very nice.

You stayed out until the skies were pitch black, like molasses. You stayed out until you started getting noise complaints from neighbours, because Joe's voice carried, and your laugh was too loud. You stayed out until the temperatures dropped so much, you didn't really want to have your hands outside of your sleeves anymore.

You started noticing it was never Joe who would go inside first. It was always you who went, well, gotta get up early tomorrow.

Joe liked it too much.

None of his friends had a neighbour like he did. Sure, they had people they'd see outside in the hallways or down near the postboxes, and they'd say hi, were polite. Would sometimes run into them in the supermarket and say hi then too. But that wasn't what you and Joe had going. You'd become a very specific kind of friends. Neighbours who knew too much about each other not to at least be considered friends, Joe was sure.

And, okay, so you'd flirt with each other. But what was the big deal? There was always a banister that divided you. A barrier that you hadn't yet crossed, and Joe would wonder, would it still be like this if he did cross that barrier? He'd fantasize of going 'round and ringing your doorbell to spend an evening inside on your sofa, where it'd be warm and cozy. Or he'd dream of inviting you over for dinner instead of having to pass you a bowl of food with a weak excuse that you'd eat outside with metal spindles in between the two of you.

You never talked about dating. About your romantic lives. Joe kind of hoped the reason was that there wasn't anything to talk about. So, cue his surprise when on a Sunday evening, he caught you through the window, from the corner of his eye, on your balcony, with a man. He was just out of view from inside his flat, which was good. Joe didn't need to actually see him to know what kissing looked like.

The lack of stars that night should've warned him.

Surprised at the painful stab in his heart, Joe decided to get out. Head out, to the pub, maybe. See if some of his friends were about. He didn't need to stay inside with you out there, making out with someone that wasn't him.

Shit.

He desperately needed that to be him.

That night he let his friends talk him into confronting you tomorrow. Friends that hadn't understood this bond that Joe had with his neighbour. And then, when other friends asked him to hang out that next day, he said he couldn't, because he had plans.

But then you didn't step out onto your balcony all night, and Joe knew then, this wasn't normal.

Oh man. Joe was in serious trouble.

He imagined this is what having an addiction must feel like, where it starts interfering with your day-to-day life. Where you start saying no to seeing friends because you had secret other things to do by yourself. Like, staying out late stood on your own balcony to maybe hopefully accidentally meet your hot neighbour that you had a big fat crush on. You know, shit like that.

Joe purposefully didn't go outside for a few nights after that. Didn't need to be confronted by your absence, or your presence for that matter. Not if it was going to be you and someone else, again.

But then he had dinner out there in the sunlight with a friend and he realised how stupid he'd been.

He could be out on his balcony all day and all night if he wanted.

This was his spot.

He'd used it for smoking his cigarettes long before you'd moved in next door.

And so when a week later, he'd set up the little bench with pillows, a nice throw blanket and a fat glass of wine, he was all ready for a nice, relaxing time on his balcony by himself when suddenly, your door opened.

You made eye-contact, and for a second, you contemplated going back inside.

"Hey," Joe said when the silence lingered a little too long.

"Hi, sorry. Hi," you immediately apologised for being weird before stepping out fully and fumbling with shaky fingers to light a cigarette.

Joe eyed you carefully, and then asked if you were all right.

"Don't ask, I'll cry," you said, and chuckled humourlessly.

You kind of hoped that Joe would make a joke, would waltz right over everything, make you forget about the guy you thought might be one to stick around for a little while, if not longer, only to ghost you after you'd let him sleep over.

Men were dicks.

You needed Joe to say something dumb, to make you laugh, and then you'd be able to swiftly move on and forget about it forever.

Instead Joe got up and with his cigarette in his mouth, used both his arms to beckon you over to the banister.

You hesitated, and Joe removed his cigarette as he leant his hips against the metal bars. "Come on, in you come," and when you took a small careful step closer, Joe knew you'd be just within reach so he bent at the waist and grabbed at you with both hands, pulling you in for a hug.

It was so stupid, but you tensed under Joe's embrace and patiently waited for it to be over. Hugs between neighbours should only last two, maybe three seconds, right?

"Oh my God, relax!" Joe instructed, rubbing a flat palm strongly over your back, pushing you more into him and you exhaled. Loudly and all exaggerated. It was enough for Joe to pull back, but then he took hold of your arms and ducked down slightly to force eyecontact.

"I've got good wine," Joe then offered, eyebrows scrunched and lips spread into a caring smile.

"Ugh, yes, wine would be great," you let your shoulders slump, and Joe moved his cigarette back into his mouth before he turned to go and get you a glass.

Upon his return he nearly dropped it when he saw what you were about to do.

With one leg already flung over the banisters, you were about to hop up and fling your other leg over as well.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Stop!"

You froze, one leg dangling and Joe quickly set the glass down before you could change your mind and climb over further.

"We're on the 4th floor, are you actually joking?!" Joe's hands found your waist and he held you with strong fingers as he gently pushed you back onto your own balcony. "This is so dangerous,"

The space between your balconies was minimal, but definitely there.

"I just wanted to-" you started, and pointed behind Joe, at his bench that was laid out with nice pillows and soft blankets.

"Walk around, idiot! We have doors!" Joe interrupted, and the loudness of his voice made you flinch a little.

For a second, you and Joe just looked at each other, you now back on your own balcony, but Joe's hands still firmly holding onto your waist.

Joe then sighed, said, "Wait," and stepped back.

"Catch,"

Joe threw one of the pillows over - a risky move, you weren't the best catcher, but this one almost hit your right in the face. Joe then, much more sensibly, handed you more pillows over the banisters and instructed you to place all of them onto your chairs. The blanket followed, and then, the wine glasses.

And like Joe hadn't just told you off for trying to climb from your balcony onto his, Joe gracefully hopped and swung both legs over, landing on both feet like he'd done that a million times before. You were about to argue, let him know how unfair it was for him to not let you climb over and then deciding that jumping over himself was fine, but Joe was already arranging the pillows in your chairs.

You watched Joe move about, then before he sat down with his own glass of wine in hand, he handed you yours and told you to sit as well.

After working with one hand to drape the blanket over the both of you, you kind of looked at Joe a little bewildered.

Okay, so many not all men were dicks.

"So, will you actually cry if I ask you what's the matter?" Joe asked into his wineglass before taking a sip.

"I might," you said truthfully, but tried to dress it up as a joke. It didn't land.

"Will you let me comfort you if you do?"

"I might," you said again, this time much softer, something positive hidden within your voice.

Joe thought back to his friends who'd convinced him to just be honest with you, and he glanced up at the night sky. Black, more like black treacle than tar, with enough stars visible to persuade him to actually go ahead and do it.

He looked at your wineglass, clinked it with his own, sat back and shifted in his seat until he was comfortable.

"So," he smiled warmly, and continued, "What's wrong?"

----

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[fredwkong]

FWK Vacations: Czechia

You and your friend had been trying to get flights to Czechia for ages. It was a dream of yours to see Prague and experience the centuries of history the country had to offer. So when you saw a Prague Experience package on the FWK Vacations website at an affordable price, you booked it without a second thought.

“Thanks for your booking with FWK Vacations! Enjoy your Prague party vacation!”

You stared at the screen, confused. Parties? You were a “bed at 10 PM” kind of a guy, and so was your friend. Definitely not the type to party. If this was gonna be some kinda party tour, you should cancel. Before you could, though, you felt yourself nodding off.

You woke up to someone shaking you roughly. You rolled over and frowned at the big blond guy above you. He said something gruffly, in a language you did’t understand, and gestured for you to follow him. The language sounded Eastern European, though you weren’t sure how you knew that. You started to roll out of bed as he moved to the other bed in the small room.

As you got up, something felt different. You were surprised to see a buff, pale chest when you looked down at yourself. You ran your hands through your close-cropped blond hair. You had been… different, you were pretty sure. You couldn’t remember for some reason. It probably wasn’t important. You looked hot!

Your friend cursed in Czech at the blond man, and jumped out of bed. You recognised him, even though he’d also been transformed into a short, lithe Czech boy. You looked at each other, scared and confused. But for some reason, you felt your new Czech dick jump as you saw the nervous expression on his pretty face.

“Come with me,” said the big man. You understood him this time. As he left the room, the two of you followed sullenly, and you only belatedly realised that it had felt natural to walk out wearing only your underwear. In fact, as you felt the breeze on your ass, you realised you were just wearing a cute jockstrap. After all, that was what it felt best for you to wear. Clothes were for boring people who read books and did boring stuff, you thought.

The man led you two out of what seemed to be a hotel and into a black van, where a group of other similar-looking Czech boys were sitting in jocks, apparently waiting for you.

“Silly boys,” said one of the other Czech boys. “You’re too dumb to know when it’s time to go.”

You and your friend tittered, and then looked at each other. In the back of your slowing mind, this seemed strange. You had been smart, right? But no, the more you thought about it, you had always been kind of slow and silly, a giggly little Czech boy. You gave a high-pitched laugh at the thought of you being smart.

The conversation in the van was a little too fast for you to follow, not because Czech was hard, but because you hated listening to other people. You would much rather fuck. You hoped that, whatever party the manager had booked you at, there were lots of men who wanted to fuck you! You and your friend had come to Prague from the countryside just to fuck all the time, after all.

Whatever else people did in Czechia, you had no idea. You couldn’t wait until you made enough to move away.

[yaimlight]

Pairing: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki x gender neutral reader

Warnings: a hand full of swear words and the briefest most non-descriptive mention of sex having happened at some point

A/N: happy white day, here have some more fluffy goodness 😘

A continuation of this

This was turning into a nightmare.

Not the moving in together. No that had gone as perfectly as it could and true to his work Katsuki had been in before the end of the week, his stuff easily fitting in with yours. He had already been practically living at yours any way so it hadn’t been that big a deal, the two of you already used to sharing the same space. Sure there had been a few teething issues but that was to be expected. You were spending more time together than you had been, now not just working in the same agency but living together as well and there were bound to be a few personality quirks that neither of you had known about the other until you were actually living together. They weren’t deal breakers but they were annoying and compromises had to be made so you didn’t start screaming at one another.

It didn’t help that for the first couple of weeks your schedules didn’t quite match up, resulting in a miscommunication that led to your first big argument. You were both stubborn to a fault and those first couple of days afterwards had been full of a tense silence that neither of you had known how to fix. It had taken dunce face of all people to work out what exactly had gone wrong and point it out to the both of you, leading to a very awkward apology from the both of you and a promise to communicate better. Since then things had been fine, great even and the two of you were back to normal, Katsuki smugly rubbing his relationship in the faces of his single friends.

No, the problem Katsuki had was that he needed to come up with some gesture for white day that was equal if not better than you asking him to move in with you on Valentine’s Day and he had nothing.

Zilch.

Zip.

Nada.

It was driving him crazy, Katsuki unable to come up with anything even remotely worthwhile and his idiot friends were being no help, suggesting mundane boring shit that Katsuki had no intention of doing. Taking you out to some fancy dinner just wasn’t good enough and Mina’s suggestion of a romantic getaway to some tropical island just wasn’t feasible, the two of you so busy with work that you would never get the time off. Not that either of you would ever ask for it anyway. And anyway, Katsuki didn’t do all that romantic crap and you wouldn’t expect it of him anyway but it just made this kind of thing bloody harder than it already was.

He had toyed with the idea of asking you to marry him, and had even gone as far as to ask Eijiro to go ring shopping with him. That had been a mistake. Though the redhead had agreed to help Katsuki had been able to tell right from the get go that his friend had had his reservations about the whole thing and not five minutes into the first jewellery shop he had started prodding and poking, asking Katsuki if he didn’t think something like that was to soon, that he was rushing into things when you had only been together a short while.

That had pissed him off, Katsuki barely keeping from yelling at him but he supposed it was kind of his fault Eijiro would think that. To everyone else it probably did look like the two of you were moving too fast, but that’s what happens when you keep your relationship secret, even from your closest friends. Everyone thinks the two of you decided to date one day and then moved in together straight away when in reality you were already months into your relationship before Katsuki had even started staying at yours the night, let alone thinking about living with you. He didn’t rush into things, not things like that anyway and the fact that his closest friend still believed he had kind of pissed him off. It had got Katsuki thinking though and that had just pissed him off even more.

What if it was too soon? The two of you had only been actually dating six months with a couple of months of fooling around before that. Eijiro had been dating Mina for four years before he asked her to marry him and Deku had managed to wait two years before giving into icyhot’s insistent demand to get married. Maybe he was rushing into things. Just because you now lived together and had gone public with your relationship didn’t mean that either of you were ready for that, or even wanted to go down that route. Well, Katsuki did. He would be happy to go down to the registry office now and tie himself to you until death did you part. But that was him, he had no clue what you wanted going forward so he had let Eijiro talk him out of his somewhat rash decision and sent him home empty handed angry and panicking about what the hell he was supposed to do now.

Apparently nothing because white day was already here and Katsuki was left standing in the locker room of the agency dressed in his street clothes and yanking at his hair because he was about to head home empty handed and that was completely unacceptable. Katsuki was never unprepared. Never and the fact that he was going into this with no plan let alone a back up one had him spiralling into a panic quicker then his howitzer attack had him spinning.

“Fuck!” Katsuki yelled, slamming his fist into his locker. He knew he was overreacting. Knew that you wouldn’t care if he came home empty handed and admitted to defeat but he had never once conceded a fight and he wasn’t about to now. It was fine. Everything would be fine. He just needed to come up with something. Something that was going to blow your socks off and show that not only was Katsuki serious about your relationship but that he was an amazing partner, the best in fact. Something that should be easy because Katsuki was the best at everything so why was this proving to be so bloody difficult?

Groaning Katsuki tipped forward, letting his head smack into his closed locker with a dull thud. “Stupid. Useless. Idiot,” he grumbled, smacking his head against the cool metal after every word. Why was this so bloody hard for him? It was just a gesture, a physical representation of his feelings but he had always been shit at expressing his true feelings and it seemed like no matter what he was never going to grow out of that. Whoever said age brought maturity was a liar. Katsuki didn’t feel any more prepared for this kind of situation then he would have coming out of high school.

“You know, if you keep hitting your head like that you’re going to end up damaging the pretty face of yours.” Katsuki’s head jerked up and round at the familiar voice, eyes going wide when he found you leaning against the looker room doors, an amused smile on your face as you stared at him fondly. He jerked away from the lockers, stumbling slightly as he frantically tried to sort out his hair. It was ridiculous but Katsuki felt like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been, like he was five again and caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“What are you doing here?” Katsuki winced slightly at his harsh and slightly accusatory tone, his loud voice echoing around the large and empty room. He supposes he should be thankful that your amused smile didn’t falter even as you raised an eyebrow at his sudden outburst. “Just finished up, thought we could go home together.” Katsuki wanted to groan and smack his head against the locker again at your stupid answer. You were supposed to have gone home over an hour ago giving Katsuki the time to do something before you expected him back at the apartment.

Now he had no time at all. Not even a second to come up with something he could do on your next day off together. You were there already, waiting for him to do this grand romantic gesture that he just didn’t have. He could maybe put it off until you got back to the apartment, hell he might even be able to come up with something but it wouldn’t be anything near what he wanted it to be. Shit, he was a failure. How the hell was he supposed to prove how he felt about you if he couldn’t do something as simple as get you something for bloody white day.

“Hey, you good?” Katsuki hadn’t even noticed you had moved, not till your hand was on his cheek and you were standing before him, your smile long gone and replaced with a worried frown. Gritting his jaw, Katsuki turned his head away from you, not feeling like he deserved your concern. Your hand fell away from his face, leaving his cheek feeling cold and tingling. This was it, he had to tell you he was a lousy boyfriend and hadn’t gotten you anything for white day. Fuck, he was pathetic, getting so worked up over this pointless shit but you had been expecting something of him dammit and he hated that he had let you down.

“I don’t have anything for you,” Katsuki forced out, still refusing to look at you and feeling his cheeks begin to burn from embarrassment and shame. He braced himself for it, the disbelieving ‘what’ you were bound to give him followed by a disappointed sigh and a couple of days worth of silent treatment for his failure to reciprocate your gesture of commitment. He would deserve it, after all what kind of boyfriend failed to reciprocate their partner's valentines gift.

“Ok,” you dragged out, “Were you meant to?” Scrunching his nose up at the obvious confusion in your voice Katsuki finally turned to look at you again. Your confusion was obvious, your head tilted to the side slightly and your brows furrowed. Scowling, Katsuki really looked at you, trying to work out if you were being dense on purpose or if you really had no clue what the hell he was on about. From the way you were looking at him like he had grown a second head Katsuki was inclined to go with the latter. “It’s white day,” he said slowly, like you were some kind of idiot that needed him to spell it out for you to understand what was going on. Your brows furrowed even more. “Yeah, and?”

Katsuki just stood there staring unblinkingly at you, your complete and utter lack of understanding taking him by surprise. You couldn’t actually be that dense. How did you not realise what that meant, what was expected of him. Hell, you had even said when you gave him the key to your place that you were expecting him to top that and yet here you were, acting like you had no recollection of that ever happening and that he was the crazy one out of the two of you. All week he had been working himself up into a mess, panicking over what you were expecting of him when apparently you didn’t even understand what kind of pressure you saying something like that would put him under.

“And I don’t have anything to give you,” Katsuki yelled, his frustration finally getting the better of him. You blinked owlishly at him, taking a slight step back at his angry outburst. The two of you fell into silence, Katsuki breathing heavily and glaring whilst your eyes darted over him like you were looking for an explanation to his weird behaviour. Katsuki could see it, the moment you realised what was going on, your eyes going wide in surprise. “Oh.” Katsuki scoffed at that, crossing his arms over his chest and once again turning his head away from you so he could glare at his closed locker.

Oh. That’s all you had to say for yourself, just oh. Like this wasn’t all your fault. How had you forgotten after daring him like that? Practically forcing him to take part in a stupid tradition that he otherwise wouldn’t have had anything to do with. Was this all some kind of joke to you, getting him to the point of mental exhaustion all because he was trying to live up to your expectations of what kind of partner he would be. Shit, he had been ready to marry you and you had bloody forgotten what white day even was. “You know I didn’t expect anything right.”

Katsuki’s head snapped round so quickly he was almost worried he was going to break his neck. “Huh?” What the hell did you mean you hadn’t been expecting anything from him? Did you think so little of him that you had already written him off, deciding he would be a shitty boyfriend without even giving him the chance to prove you wrong? “You're not into this kind of thing,” you shrugged, like that was enough of a reason for you to be looking down on him and treating him like he was incapable of doing something like you had. It pissed him off and Katsuki could feel himself getting angrier and angrier.

“If you weren’t expecting anything in return then why the hell would you wait till Valentines Day to give me the key to your shitty apartment?” Katsuki yelled, his palm crackling and popping with his quirk as he gestured toward the locker room doors. You had the decency to wince slightly, rubbing at the back of your neck and looking like a kicked puppy. Groaning you dropped down onto the bench behind you, elbows resting on your spread knees and head hanging down between your arms and fingers laced together behind your head. You looked like you were bracing yourself for impact, shielding all your vital organs from a blow that could possibly hurt you. Katsuki didn’t like it, not used to seeing you in such a position of surrender. Suddenly he felt wrong footed, like he had missed stepped somewhere and now he was standing in a sheet of ice that was cracking under him and threatening to give out at any moment. He really didn’t like that feeling.

“It was Valentine’s Day, just seemed like the right time to show you I was serious about us.” It was Katsuki’s turn to blink at you like he was a dumb idiot. Was it really that simple? Valentine’s Day was supposed to be for people to declare their feelings to the person they liked, letting them know their feelings by offering up a gift. If you accept the gift you were also accepting that person's feelings. Had that really been all you were doing, using the romantic holiday to help get across your feelings and Katsuki was just to stupid to see it. That didn’t change anything though. It was white day and Katsuki was supposed to give you a gift in return to show you he felt the same but you had never actually expected him to so did that mean you didn’t think he was as serious about this relationship as you were? Was that why you didn’t seem to care that he hadn’t been able to return the sentiment? But he had agreed to move in with you so surely that was proof enough of how he felt. He didn’t do things he didn’t want to and if he hadn't wanted to live with you he would have told you there and then.

Wordlessly Katsuki sank down onto the bench next to you, your bodies pressed so close together you were practically touching. You looked up then, those sharp and calculating eyes watching him intently for any sign that he was about start yelling at you. When you didn’t find any you relaxed slightly, leaning into him slightly and shrinking the already small gap between the two of you. “Plus I wanted to see how flustered you would get at getting an anonymous valentines,” you said teasingly, a soft smile on your lips as you nudged your shoulder against him. Katsuki couldn’t help but huff in amusement, his lips curling up at the edges ever so slightly. “Asshole,” he mumbled but there was no heat to it and the gentle laughter it got him was enough to have his chest tightening and his stomach fluttering like he had swallowed a butterfly. Pathetic really but he was used to it at this point.

“Look,” you started, all playfulness gone from your voice and Katsuki turned to look at you only to find you staring at the lockers with the same serious look on your face that you got at a briefing. “I knew when we started this that you weren’t the kind of person to make big romantic gestures and sprout flowery words of love and devotion and I don’t want you to think you have to be anything other than who you are to make me happy.” Katsuki’s chest tightened painfully at that, his throat suddenly dryer then the Sahara and eyes wide.

No one had ever said anything like that to him before. That he was good enough as he was to make someone happy. His whole life had been about improving himself, about becoming the best he could ever be and constantly pushing himself to become more than what he already was. Sure he had gotten praised for his effort’s, had gotten enough of that to last him a lifetime but there had always been something negative they would pick at, that they would tag onto the end. Bakugou’s quirks are amazing but his personality is horrible, he’s far too mean to be a hero. Bakugou took down that villain so quickly and without any casualties but he’s so violent, if he wants to get anywhere he really needs to calm down or no one will want him to save them. There was always something, a but that pushed him to work harder, to push himself to his limits and beyond but not you. Never with you.

He didn’t know what to do, his instincts demanding he lash out or laugh it off, declaring that obviously he would make you happy because he was the best but his words had abandoned him, leaving him to look at you like the love struck idiot he was.

Turning, you lent into him, cupping his cheek and pressing your forehead against his. This close Katsuki could see all the different shades in your eyes and feel your breath on his lips. It felt intimate, more so than all the times before when you had cuddled up close or exchanged kisses after a rather passionate round of sex. This was different to those moments, it felt heavier, important. Like everything was going to change after this and Katsuki didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

“I love you,” you stated matter-of-factly, looking at him in the eyes as you ripped his world apart, “the way you are so please, just be you because that’s enough for me. You’re enough for me, just as you are.” Katsuki was shaking, a hand gripping at the front of his shirt over his frantically breathing heart like that was somehow going to stop it from beating right out of his chest. Everything was too much, the emotions overwhelming him and leaving him with tears running down his cheeks and a feeling in his chest so bright and painful that Katsuki was afraid he was going to pass out. You loved him, had said it twice now so there was no denying it’s now. He had never been good at expressing how he felt, especially with words. No Katsuki was better with actions so instead of even attempting to talk he instead fisted his free hand in the front of your shirt and yanked you forward, smashing his lips against yours and swallowing your surprised cry.

It was messy and desperate, tasting like Katsuki’s tears but he couldn’t stop not even if he had wanted to. You loved him. Him. The loud mouth blond with an explosive personality to match his quirk and a bedside manner so bad the agency had banned him from talking to any victims of villain attacks just in case he made things worse. You knew all that though and loved him anyway, despite his failures and shortcomings. He never thought he would be the kind of person to get all mushy and emotional over a live confession but things had never quite gone the way he thought they would with you so why would this be any different.

Eventually the need to breathe became too much and reluctantly Katsuki pulled away, hastily rubbing at his eyes now the tears had stopped. Leaning back in Katsuki rested his forehead back against yours, his hands settling on your waist as you draped your arms over his shoulders. “Love you too, dumbass,” Katsuki admitted, his chest tightening painfully as he waited for your reaction. You were the first person he had ever said that to and though you had said it first there was still that annoying feeling of apprehension that this was all some kind of big joke and you were going to laugh in his face and leave him broken and unwanted.

You smiled brightly at his words, leaning in and stealing a quick kiss before pulling back before he could deepen it. “Good because you're stuck with me now.” Katsuki had wanted to say something along the lines of ‘just try and get rid of me’ or something like ‘good’ but that wasn’t what he ended up saying to you. No, what he blurted out were two words he had sworn he wasn’t going to even utter until you had at least another year in your relationship but apparently his brain to mouth filter was fucked and he was blurting out every idiotic thought that entered his head.

“Marry me.”

Katsuki groaned as soon as the words were out of his mouth, already trying to come up with a way to take it back that didn’t involve him just demanding you forget you had even heard anything. There was a moment of stunned silence before you had started to laugh and Katsuki seriously considered moving to Alaska. “Shut up,” he grumbled, shoving away from you and shuffling down the bench so he was no longer touching you. It was his turn now to bury his head in his hands, fingers sinking into his spikes so he could tug at the strands in frustration.

What was wrong with him, spewing rubbish like that? Hadn’t he just decided a week ago that the two of you weren’t ready for that yet. That it was too soon, too risky to bring that sort of thing up without knowing how you felt about it. Fuck. What if he had just ruined everything and you took it all back, scared off by how fast he was moving? Your laughing wasn’t helping though it had died down into a gentle chuckle now. He supposes he should be grateful for your laughing, giving him the opportunity to play it off like it’s some kind of joke but from how hot his face feels Katsuki didn’t feel he would be that successful in convincing you of that. “Sure Kats, I’d love to marry you.”

The would slowed then, Katsuki feeling like he’s moving through water as he turns to look at you. He must look like a mess, hair sticking up in weird angles and eyes bloodshot from crying, his face burning red even though it feels like it’s rapidly losing colour as he struggles to understand what the hell just happened. You look happy, smiling at Katsuki as he looks at you as if you're some kind of monster from a horror film. He imagined that right. There was no way you actually accepted this piss poor excuse of a proposal.

“What?” he managed to croak out, his throat back to feeling like he had swallowed a fist full of sand. You don’t stop smiling even as you roll your eyes at him. “Me. You. Marriage,” you deadpans, pointing between the two of you and then your ring finger, like he wouldn’t be able to understand without the visual queues. “Honestly Katsuki, you shouldn’t go around asking people this sort of thing if you don’t mean it…ah!” Katsuki didn’t give you time to finish whatever it was you were prattling about, lunging across the small space and pressing his lips against yours in a hungry and demanding kiss.

You fell back at the sudden extra weight, sprawling across the bench and trapped under Katsuki who had moved with you, never once taking his lips off yours. Once the initial shock had worn off you began to kiss back, wrapping your arms back around his neck and practically melting against him. Katsuki groaned, wrapping his arms around you and slotting easily between your spread legs. The kiss went on for a while, both of you panting when he finally pulled back. You looked good like that, slightly dazed from his kisses and lips red and puffy. Too good really, considering where you were and though he really wanted to show you how much he loved you he didn’t want some extra walking in and seeing a part of you that was only for Katsuki.

Trying to get back some form of control Katsuki pressed his face into the crook of your neck, his eyes closed and just listening to the sound of your breathing.

You had said yes and to that pathetic accidental proposal at that. Shit. He didn’t have a ring to give you, not after letting that idiot Eijiro talk him out of getting one for you. Ha! Prove him wrong didn’t you. Katsuki would make sure to yell at him next time he saw him whilst pointing out how wrong he had been. Katsuki still needed to get you a ring though but maybe this time you could come with him instead. Katsuki smiled at that, pressing it into your neck as he imagined you in the middle of a jewellery store, fingers adorned with diamonds and rubies as you decided what ring would be good enough to show the world that you were his.

“So,” you said, dragging out the o and pulling Katsuki away from his fantasy. He automatically tensed up at your tone that suggested he wasn’t going to like what came out of your mouth next. Do you want to introduce me to your parents before or after you tell them we’re engaged?” Katsuki’s smile fell instantly at your words, dread filling him once more.

Fuck.

He hadn’t even told the old hag he was moving let alone he was dating someone and now he was going to have to skip all that and tell her that he was getting married after only being in a relationship for six months.

She was going to kill him.

Maybe the two of you could elope instead.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 8

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,794

Hiccup learns. Or, well, he tries. And then he doesn’t.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, the earth is round, the earth is flat, quiet moments pt 2, Changewings

<Previous - Next>

“Chores?”

“Yeah, you know, fetch water, deliver parts and do laundry. Clean carts, a bit of herding on the side, I wash down dragons sometimes for a few extra coins. Plus doing all of my stuff,” You picked at the sleeves of your tunic then decided better of it.

“Your stuff.” Hiccup stated.

“Laundry, clean out the hay in the barn, cook, repair the shed, which is really nasty by the way, I hate it, something’s always wrong. Like that.”

“That’s… A lot. And you’re not getting paid? For all of it?”

“Yeah. I am, I mean. I get food and board. Coin, I only get that sometimes. The stables get kind of chilly in the winter, otherwise it’s alright.”

Hiccup looked at you oddly, “No, no, it really is not. You live… in the stables.”

Most Vikings even across clans would take the time to hunker down together during the winter, especially during the devastating season even if they hadn’t yet gotten to the point where everyone had to be ushered into the Great Hall together. You knew at least that much, which was maybe why it came across as odd to Hiccup.

“I mean, yeah? I don't see you getting paid for working in the forge.” You shrugged.

“I guess, well, point, but also I get to build what I want with whatever I want. Which can get kind of… expensive.” You nodded. That made sense enough.

“Well, I guess it is what it is. I can’t really be picky, you know.”

You were both sitting on the hill in front of his house. He’d caught you in between jobs somehow. You always seemed to be busy.

There were a few Vikings below putting effort into rebuilding 

“This is really comfy,” You sighed. While making a delivery for the Chief, Hiccup had come by and the two of you had stumbled into each other, getting whatever he had in his arms spilled all over onto your shirt and sizzled a bit.

It probably had something to do with the cleanup going on. You were just glad you cleaned up fast enough to avoid getting burned.

“It’s my favorite,” He said.

“Really?” You sat with your knees up to your nose, arms wrapped around your trousers, which were salvageable, though your skirt was not. Your arms were donned in red fabric of a familiar shade, which was extremely comfortable despite its scratchy exterior.

“You gave it to me, so…” Hiccup shrugged his shoulders oddly. He avoided looking in your eyes as he spoke.

“That’s awfully flattering.” You said kindly. You could tell why it was. Or maybe you were just extra thankful to be in something dry. Whatever Hiccup had been carrying was very sticky and hard to scrub off, which you had a ball doing, hidden away behind a curtain in their home with a small wash bin and rag. 

You spent the whole time in a rush hoping that Stoick wouldn’t come back early and catch you in the nude, or something, despite the irrationality of it. That would be incredibly embarrassing.

“I’m sure,” Hiccup nodded his assent fiddly, before he gestured with his hands, laughing awkwardly, then staring down at his own knees, “But, you know. So, what brings you up here?” 

You yawned, resting your hand over your mouth, “Well… Package for the Chief, mostly. Also, I wanted to say thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“For helping me out, earlier. I would have died, you know.”

There was some drama earlier, a Dragon attack that had something to do with lucky stones, which you didn’t have a lot of time for. 

You paused running, probably not a very smart move, as you spotted a small group on the other side of the clearing standing far enough apart for you to watch and ogle as someone who you thought was Tuffnut pet the base of a fire tower.

“Oh, well,” Hiccup said, scratching his neck, “It was nothing.”

Hiccup was the one who got you out of the way in time. To not die. You owed him another favor, you guessed. You sighed.

In the time it took for either of you to come up with something new to say, Toothless came and lumbered in from the back. You’d seen him wander off there earlier. He probably spent a lot of time out when he wasn’t stuck like glue to Hiccup’s side. Berk was going through a very rare and treasured heat spell, which the dragons were very much taking advantage of.

“What do you think about?” Hiccup asked, leaning backwards.

You blinked at him, and at the set of bandages peeking out from under his green tunic.

“Not much. What I’m going to do later, what’s for dinner. I think about home sometimes. And… The world is round,” It was a bit random. Admittedly, You usually avoided talking about future your-world things, but you had gotten into a tizzy over a few things earlier with one of the Vikings by the fields. Maybe you were feeling a little peckish about it still.

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“But…”Hiccup raised his eyebrow, squinting quizzically, “The world isn’t round.”

This world, apparently, did not operate on cartoon physics. It would have been a really cruel joke on you if it had, you thought, You double checked. It was just the people. So there was no reason as to why they shouldn’t be able to get it.

“You’re kidding, right? Come on, Toothless.” 

Toothless deadpanned at him, turning around to walk away, his tail ending up smacking Hiccup in the head and arms as he made an effort to protect his face.

“Oh, wow, great, thanks, Bud.”

Hiccup squinted, and waved his arms at his dragon, mock brushing him away.

“See? He agrees.” You grinned.

Hiccup turned to look at you, “That’s my best friend, if you would believe it.”

“Are you sure about that?” You sniped, “Because I’m not so sure about that.”

“I can tell.” He deadpanned, shrugging playfully.

You shook your head. There were more important things to be talking about. Like…

“I don’t understand how you guys fly around all the time and you still don’t know the earth is round,” You snickered.

“It’s not,” He insisted, “Flying wouldn’t change that.”

“It would!” You insisted, “It’s all about perspective.”

You shook your head as one of a pair of vikings down below dropped a large log from his shoulder, causing it to roll off and back towards the other houses.

“You’re up in the air, or somewhere up high, really, and you see that the horizon line is round.” You’d been up to Gothi's enough to be sure, “It’s like when you look really close at a ball or something. And the ball is spinning a lot. It’s physics. Science.”

“What kind of science? The Thorston kind? I find it hard to believe, if that’s the case.”

At some point, you realized that, despite it all, he didn’t actually know a lot about you. Where you came from, what your family was like, if you had one. What you liked to do. You really did have to explain.

You wrinkled your nose at his sarcasm, ignoring it as you decided to go on, “The world is really heavy. Like I said, it also spins. Like when you sit on something soft and it sinks. It works like that for both the top and bottom. It’s Gravity.” You used the English word for it.

There was a thump on the roof above you as a flock of Terrors landed by your feet. Probably one from the group. They tended to spin out of control often, especially if it was breezy out.

“It’s common knowledge where I come from,” You said, 

“Is it?” Hiccup squinted, as if he was seeing you in a whole new light. A whole new, mental light, “Well, I don’t know about the whole round thing, but- What next, are you going to tell me that the sun revolves around Midgard?”

“Also yes,” You interjected, with a vendetta, gesturing with both hands, “Why do you guys always lead with that? Is it really that crazy of an idea? Seriously.”

You glowered at him, “I think you all are busted in the head. Or the lightning scrambled your brain, or something, because I have no idea how you’re seeing this.” 

“What? No,” Hiccup said, “No, I’m perfectly healthy.”

“Yeah,” You snorted, “You guys lack what I would call common sense.”

There was a loud rumbling from back inside the Haddock House. It was definitely Toothless. At least someone had your back. It probably didn’t help that the only ones who agreed with you were the twins.

Hiccup turned back to shoot a nasty look at Toothless, probably forgetting about his bandages. And the burnt skin under.

“I probably owe you another favor, don’t I?” You winced as he jerked back around, cursing. It was kind of silly, and kind of nerve-wracking watching his scrawny shoulders curl in over his stomach. 

“Nah,” Hiccup looked up from his knees and feet, resting on the steps to his home, to you, and then back, trying to hide his wheezing, “This one’s… on the house.”

Your hands hovered over his bak unsurely, worried if you tried to help you might agitate his burns more. You would probably take a trip up to Gothi later and ask if she had anything more to use to help.

“And, well, We’re Vikings.” Hiccup grimaced, “And, hey, I have some common sense, too.”

You stayed silent, giving Hiccup a moment as he gathered himself. You hoped he hadn’t any acid left in his skin. You felt awful about it.

Hiccup sat up steadily, and you made sure to scoot back and give him space as he did. He kept an unhandy smile on his face, the corner of his mouth twitching, eyebrows pushing up as you attempted to make sure he was alright.

Your face fell, molding into something more confused, as he mouth a question under his breath.

“Why did you leave?”

“What?”

“Sorry, I’ve just… Been wondering. What brought you to Berk?” Hiccup brought a shaky hand back up to his neck.

You felt your eyes unfocus a bit.

You guessed it was probably the natural progression of things. You wondered whether you were supposed to come up with something, or just not. You decided on something more square in the middle.

“I don’t know,” You huffed, a little lost, “One day I just started walking and ended up here.”

Hiccup looked at you skeptically, though not without sympathy. You were on an island surrounded by all water, but still. You stood up straight, puffing out your chest.

“Take it metaphorically, if you don’t believe me.”

[wheels-of-despair]

Classy Girl and the Scruffy Boy Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie's girl invites him over for a romantic dinner and a movie. It's... not exactly what he expected. Contains: Dinner and a movie? Word Count: 1.2k-ish

"Hi," you whisper, easing yourself onto Eddie's lap in the school library.

"Hi?" he responds, a little surprised to see you.

You wrap an arm around his shoulders, and his circle around your waist. He tilts his chin up for a kiss, which you gladly give him.

"So I just found out that Mom has a meeting this evening," you tell him quietly, "and she won't be home 'til late. I'll have the house allll to myself."

"Oh yeah?" he asks, instantly perking up.

"Yuuup."

"What are you gonna do with that big empty house all to yourself?"

"Hmmm…" you wonder aloud, tapping your chin thoughtfully with your free hand. "I thought maybe I could invite this really cute guy over… and I could make him a romantic dinner… and we could watch one of the best love stories ever told."

"Is it a chick flick?"

"It's not a chick flick."

"It's a chick flick."

"It's about a classy girl who falls for a scruffy boy. I think it's technically a love story, but there's some pretty scary stuff in it too. I might need you to hold me."

He looks like he's considering it.

"If you're a good boy, maybe we could even re-enact one of my favorite love scenes."

His eyes widen.

"It might get a little messy, though," you tease with a whisper.

"Sold."

"That's what I thought," you give him a kiss on the forehead and rake your fingers through his hair.

"I've gotta get back to class. Meet you at the van after school?"

He nods, breathing a little harder, his pupils blown. You lean down for another kiss and get off his lap. He gives your ass a smack as you walk away, and you turn to shoot him a fake glare before spinning back around and heading toward the exit with a grin on your face.

He'll never know what hit him.

He was already by the van when you arrived at 3:03. His last class of the day was farther away than yours; he must've run all the way there.

You had him stop by Bradley's Big Buy on the way home to get a few extra ingredients. He didn't mind. It was for him, after all.

When you got home, you put your groceries away, sat at the table, and started pulling homework out of your backpack.

"What are you doing?"

"Eddie, it's not even 4 yet. Are you seriously ready for dinner already?"

He pouts.

"Go get your damn books, I know you've got work to do."

His jaw drops indignantly.

But he listens.

Two hours and several completed assignments he'd been putting off later, he's happily watching you move around the kitchen, making the romantic dinner he was promised. He wasn't thrilled about being tricked into doing work, but you'd helped him get enough done to keep his teachers off his back for a few days, so that was nice. Now, he got to relax, and see what kind of surprise you had planned.

Oh, Eddie. If only you knew who you were dealing with.

Some time later, you bring two steaming bowls of spaghetti into the living room and place them on the coffee table next to your glasses of soda and a plate of bread, buttered and toasted to perfection.

"Do you want me to put the movie in?"

"It's already in," you answer, picking up the remote and turning the TV on, trying to contain your glee. You'd put the tape in while he was taking a bathroom break, not wanting to risk him seeing the box and ruining the surprise.

The VCR clunks to life, and you fast-forward through the previews. You press play and watch him from the corner of your eye.

He's confused. He's so confused.

"This is a cartoon."

You say nothing, struggling to keep your face blank.

Once he realizes he's been had, he grabs the remote and presses stop, then turns to you with a hard look in his eyes.

"What the fuck?"

"What?" you ask innocently.

He gestures to the TV.

"You were promised a romantic dinner and a love story, were you not?"

"You didn't say it was Lady and the Fucking Tramp!"

"I said it was a love story about a classy girl and a scruffy boy."

His jaw clenches.

"You said it was scary."

"Have you SEEN the size of that freakin' rat? That's trying to EAT THE BABY?"

He fumes. He fumes at you for tricking him, and at himself for falling for something like this AGAIN.

"You purposely got me all worked up over a CARTOON!"

"It's not my fault you're a pervert!" You bite back your laughter.

"I had to go to the BATHROOM during ENGLISH and rub one out!"

You lose it.

"THAT'S IT!" he yells and lunges at you, howling with laughter at his expense. Next thing you know, you're on your back and he's on top of you, nipping at your neck and grinding against you.

"Oh yeah, you got me good Munson, please stop this unbearable torture!" you choke out between cackles.

He goes limp, dropping all his weight on top of you. He may look little, but it knocks the wind out of you with an "oof!"

You wiggle, trying to shake him off. He moans. Nevermind.

He lifts his head and cocks an eyebrow. "Wait, what were we supposed to be re-enacting from the DOG movie?"

"The spaghetti scene, duh."

"The what?"

"Have you not seen it?"

"Not… all of it?"

"Get up. This is unacceptable."

"So we're not going to do anything? After all that?"

"I mean, if you don't mind cold bread and reheated spag--"

And suddenly his mouth is on yours, your romantic dinner growing cold just a few feet away.

Your mother returns from her meeting a few hours later, eyes narrowing when she sees Eddie's van in the driveway. She's still wary about you two being alone together. She debates between loudly announcing herself so she doesn't see anything gross, or quietly coming in and catching you in the act, which would secure free, complaint-free labor for the deep cleaning she'd been putting off.

The house is silent when she enters. There's a big pot of spaghetti on the stove, and the kitchen table is covered with books and what appears to be finished homework. Curiosity getting the better of her, she creeps toward the living room, still a little afraid of what she might find.

But it's a blue screen on the TV, a pile of dirty dishes on the coffee table, and two fully clothed teenagers sleeping on the couch. She turns off the TV and goes to get herself a bowl of spaghetti.

You later told her how you Lady and the Tramped him with the promise of a romantic dinner and a love story about a classy girl and a scruffy boy, and she'd laughed almost as hard as you had. (You'd also told her how Eddie had teared up when he saw all the sad dogs at the pound, but she was forbidden from ever repeating that.) That was the day she decided that maybe you could be trusted together. You two definitely weren't like other teenagers.

What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

[spctrsgf]

Inspired by your ‘attack’ story, what if marc and the reader get into a fight over something(significant or not its your choice!) and they end up raising their voice & he goes into panic from his trauma. Fluffy ending pls he needs all the reassurance & love he can get!! If you’re not comfortable writing this thats fine <3

try me

a contination of the attack

word count: 1.8k

warnings: established relationship, language, panic attack, angsty then floof

a/n: anon. you are my first request everrrr! that's crazy * insert lil celebration dance here* thank you so much for your request, and i hope i interpreted it right

You had to get home.

You had to get home, and fast.

The sun didn’t slow its steady descent towards the horizon, even as you glared and grumbled at it while willing your feet to move faster. The decision to walk home from work was one you were quickly regretting as the back of your calves burned and your grip on your bag tightened. Time wasn’t your friend either as you lifted your wrist to check it, noticing that it had inched to a full ten minutes since you’d scrambled out of your office.

It wasn’t entirely your fault, really. A colleague of yours had wanted you to proof something of theirs before the big meeting they had tomorrow, and being the person you are, you just couldn’t say no. It’d pushed your departure from the office closer and closer to the sunset, and before you knew it, it was five o’clock. 

Marc didn’t like it when you were late. You were a punctual person, very rarely late, and he was a big ball of anxiety. You knew all too well about worrying about the millions of things that could have gone wrong as you waited for him to understand his same line of thought. Last time you’d been late, he’d been two seconds away from summoning the suit and flying out to find you himself.

Come on, you can move faster than this. You pushed yourself to break into yet another spur of jogging, clutching your bag closer to your body to prevent it from slamming into your side. Your apartment building was in sight; after a few strides you managed to slide in the door and then the elevator, thanking the kind person who held open the door for you.

“In a rush?” She asked, smooth British slicing through the silence. “Yeah,” you nodded, reaching over to press the button for the fifth floor. “My boyfriend is waiting for me at home.”

The woman’s gaze followed your hand. “Fifth floor, huh? Who’s the lucky man?”

You paused, unsure whether you should mention Marc or Steven. Did Jake even introduce himself to anyone? “Uh, do you know Steven Grant?”

“The quaint little British man? A little all over the place?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, that’s Steven for ya.”

“I know him. Nice fellow.”

“Yeah, he’s great.”

The woman went to say something, surely about Steven, but the elevator rang and opened up to your floor. You shifted your bag strap and walked out, turning around to wave and say goodbye to the woman, to which she returned with a bright smile. The small gesture put you in a good mood and your lips stayed in a smile as you walked to the apartment, knocking in the knowledge that Marc would be there.

Yeah, about that happiness? Marc’s expression wiped it clean from your face.

His lips were a barely visible thin line, his hair was unruly yet looked like it’d been run through several times. His eyes were hard and his silence was like a punch to the gut as he simply stepped aside and let you pass. You ducked your head and fumbled through your routine of putting away your stuff, well aware of the piercing stare scrutinizing every move you made. 

When you turned around again to face Marc, he was right behind you and grabbing your arms, twisting you left and right. “Marc,” you shoved his hand off your shoulder. “I’m fine.” He sighed. “I just need to make sure.”

“So you don’t just take my word for it?”

“I do, I just want to make sure myself.”

“Well,” you spun again and pinned him with an annoyed stare. “I’m fine. Now stop staring at me or you're gonna burn two holes into my sweater.”

Marc huffed, heading for the kitchen. “Jeez, I’m sorry for caring.”

You see, the rational part of you was screaming that you should stop there. That you should sigh and apologize, knowing that he would as well and that everything would cool down. Maybe you two would even get around to watching that show you both were procrastinating. 

Oh, but no, you kept going.

“That’s not showing you care, Marc! That’s babying me!”

“I’m trying to make sure you're okay! How is that babying you?”

“Why? Do you always think that if I walk outside I’m going to get fucking jumped?”

His hands tightened their grip on the countertop, turning white. “You know that I trust you–”

“No, I don't, Marc!” You yelled at his turned back, nearly shaking in fury. “Because you wouldn’t let me do shit!”

He whirled around then. “I don’t let you do shit, huh? I let you do way more shit than I want to!”

“Then you want to? You're not the only person in this relationship!”

“Yeah, you make that pretty fucking clear.��

“And why do you think I do that? I don’t want to be in another relationship where I’m being tugged around like a doll!”

Marc glared. “Really? Then don’t treat me like one either.”

You tossed your hands up in the air. “You're unbelievable.”

“I’m unbelievable? You’re fucking unbelievable.”

“Really?” Tears glistened in your angry eyes. “No wonder Layla left when you have this bitchy attitude.”

In hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have said that. Layla was always a topic that Marc very rarely brooched, and when he did, it was a small mention. Actually, most of the stuff you knew about her was from Steven, though you get the idea that he saw her in a more romanticized light than Marc’s down to earth viewpoint. Marc had a reason for his lack of excitement about talking about her, Steven said: he said that Marc didn’t want to think about her and instead he wanted to focus on you. 

And now you’ve gone and said something really bad. 

You watched as Marc’s brain registered the words, as it skittered through the circuit boards in his brain. His face fell from where it was scrunched up in anger and tears began to glisten in his eyes. Your legs propelled you forward and towards him as profuse apologies fell from your lips, but he shrank into himself. You stopped your pursuit as he held up shaky hands, begging you not to hurt him. 

You were dumbfounded, but mostly scared as Marc met the floor with a quiet sob, pulling his knees up to his chest. Each murmur of please don’t hurt me, I’ll be better dug into your conscience and scooped out a cup of guilt. Your own eyes were shedding tears and you wanted to shut down, to crash yourself in on the perpetual guilt of Marc’s panic attack, but you knew you had to stay strong and fix what you had started. 

You knew of a way your mom used to deal with your panic attacks. You hoped that it’d work as you backed away from him, putting a solid six feet between the two of you. You sighed as his shoulders relaxed a bit with the lack of proximity, and you gathered all of your will and put into hoping your plan would work. 

“Marc?” you tried quietly. “Marc, can you look at me?”

He shook his head violently. 

“Marc. I’m gonna need you to pick your head. You can do it, I believe in you.”

“I don’t wanna.” He mumbled, broken by surprise inhales as he came down from his crying. 

“I know it’s hard, I know. But I need you to look at me.”

He didn’t want to look up. He didn’t want to see the pity etched from your lips and the guilt hanging from your eyes. But he couldn’t control the way his head jerked up, nearly violently, and forced him to look into your eyes. He watched in surprise as your eyes softened in relief and your lips reached up to the ceiling in a shy yet proud smile. He watched your eyebrows, previously knit, relax and meet their resting position, your shoulders following the same movement. His own shoulders relaxed as well, glad to see that there was not an ounce of anger anymore in your stature.

“Hey.” you said with a smile, head tilting slightly as your eyes filled with love. “Hey.” his voice was more hoarse than yours, granted, but held the same tone.

“You alright? Anything I can get you?”

He shook his head. “No, I think I’m okay. Thanks.”

You nodded. “Listen, Marc–”

“Don’t apologize.” He pulled his hand up as if to block your next sentence, but the words still came tumbling off your tongue.

“I’m sorry. I was being unreasonable and I said some shit that I should have never said. To anyone. And-” you scooted closer. “Layla is stupid to have left you. I don't know much about what happened between you two, but I do know that anyone in their right mind wouldn’t leave you.”

“Maybe Layla was in her left one, then.”

You snorted. “Probably.”

“Yeah.” He let out a soft chuckle.

You smiled with what you were sure was a lovesick grin. “Glad Marc is finally back with me. Was worried there for a minute.”

Marc sighed, his eyes dropping from yours. “I’m sor—“

“Don’t apologize.”

“Why not?”

“Because you didn't do anything.”

“If I wasn't so easy to rile up-“

“No, Marc,” your voice was hard, but the said man didn’t flinch as you scooted even closer. “It’s not your fault. I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again.”

He nodded in slight defeat. “Yeah, I know. I’m getting there, I’m trying.”

“I know,” your hand reached out slowly, pulling his slightly shaking hand into your own so you could intertwine your fingers together. “And you’re doing amazing.”

His eyes shined with unshed tears, and he brought his free hand to wipe his eyes. “Gods, I can’t believe I’m crying right now.”

“I would have been crying minutes ago if I were you, so you’re doing way better than I am.” 

He brought his hand away from his face, meeting your gaze with his own lovesick one. “I love you.”

You grinned. “I love you more.”

“You wanna bet?” He pulled himself up, taking you with him.

You leaned in, pulling away when Marc tried to kiss you, laughing at the way he chased your lips. You stopped when he was a hair’s breadth away, each exhale fanning across his face. “Try me.”

[prismatoxic]

Absolutely losing my mind checking 4 ur fic update before I go to sleep every night PLSSS UR INTERPRETATION OF THEM MAKES ME INSANE

WAUGH... anon i'm so sorry it's taking so long 😭 comparatively speaking, anyway. i've NEVER updated a fic as fast as i have with this one, lmao

but!! i am still working on it, i promise. and thinking about it all the time. in fact i have its playlist on right now

here, an excerpt to maybe tide you over a little:

In front of the door, Laios holds a hand out. “Wait here a sec. I’m gonna put the dogs out back.” 

Right. Falin had mentioned dogs. There was no reason to assume there wouldn’t still be any, even if the Touden siblings had long since moved out. Chilchuck peers around Laios’s legs as he unlocks the door, then squeezes into the gap he makes as he opens it, commanding the animals in question to get back in a tone of voice far more fond than it is authoritative. 

He’s cute.

Chilchuck crosses his arms and tips his head back, staring up at the sky. Get it together, Tims.

By the time Laios makes his way back, he’s clearly been noticed;  Chilchuck hears him confirming his presence to someone before he opens the door. “Come on in,” he greets, but there’s a tension to him now that’s hard to ignore.

“Who did you—?” Chilchuck meets the elder Touden’s eyes as he steps inside, and they both freeze up for a moment. Chilchuck intends to stand his ground, but Laios’s father has those same piercing eyes, sans the default kindness of his son’s. He’s more intimidating than Chilchuck wants to admit.

“He’s a friend,” Laios explains, closing the door before motioning for Chilchuck to follow him. He clearly has no interest in prolonging the interaction, but his father stops him anyway, stepping into their path. Chilchuck discreetly moves closer to Laios in response. He doesn’t intend to play the role of a scared child hiding behind an adult’s legs, but he’s still a little bit nervous.

“You should tell me before you bring strangers over, Laios,” the mayor says, and while he doesn’t sound angry, he doesn’t sound particularly thrilled either. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to grab some of our old camping gear,” Laios responds, and Chilchuck can feel waves of icy contempt rolling off of him—like when they found the traps, but less angry. “He and I are gonna go for a hike.” He gestures Chilchuck’s way, but doesn’t take his eyes off of his father.

“This is the monster thing again, isn’t it,” Laios’s father sighs, looking briefly down at Chilchuck in a way that suggests he’s being blamed for enabling this. He bristles in response, ready to say something, but Laios beats him to the punch.

“Did you forget we used to go camping all the time?” he asks, stepping a little to the side to shield Chilchuck. The gesture should feel patronizing, but at this point, Chilchuck knows all too well that Laios’s intentions towards him are never infantilizing. “Why is it okay if it’s you but bad if it’s me?”

Unable to really see past Laios, Chilchuck can’t see his father’s face, but he sounds terse when he says, “That wasn’t for monster-sighting. You know the only thing I want is—”

“The only thing you want is for me to turn into you,” Laios spits.

“Laios,” his father admonishes, and Chilchuck realizes this is a normal interaction for them to have from the exasperation in his tone. Much as he doesn’t like the guy, he feels something familiar in his struggle.

“Hey,” he finally decides to cut in, reaching up to bump Laios’s closer hand with his own. “Calm down. Let’s get the stuff we came here for.”

Laios looks down at him in surprise, cheeks dusted faintly pink as the anger seems to bleed out of him all at once. When he looks back at his father, Chilchuck sees his jaw tighten, but all he says is “Pardon me,” side-stepping the mayor and walking past him to the stairs. 

Chilchuck follows, at least for a few steps, then hesitates as Laios starts ascending. When he looks back, he finds the elder Touden watching him with an expression that’s hard to define.

“...I have three kids,” Chilchuck explains, rubbing the back of his neck. “And... y’know, I let him do his thing, so. He’s more inclined to listen.”

Laios’s father doesn’t respond right away, and when he does, all he says is: “You’re Tims. From the other day.” He doesn’t even sound angry, just... surprised.

“Chilchuck?” Laios calls from the top of the stairs, and Chilchuck shrugs, a little sheepish, before following him.

[neoyi]

Sooooooo, obvious Pizza Tower spoilers for the final boss and stuff.

I finished Pizza Tower the other day. The game was already plenty good using anxiety and anger as a vehicle for Peppino's motivation and the situation he's been placed in. It's not just his animation, where left idle, he will nervously gesture (teeth-clattering, biting his hand, etc.); it's also the music which draws the line between smooth techno backdrops to FRANTIC FRANTIC FRANTIC, the fact that everything is literally out to get him, and the brilliant escape sequences per level that forces Peppino to haul ass or he'll DIE.

Normally, I can't stand games where you're forced to escape with a timer, but Pizza Tower feels so appropriate because it's suppose to be anxious and heart-pounding. It also helps that the game has such tight, well-defined controls. Peppino is fast, so you get a sense of speed that helps defy the clock when you're on the move, but he can also stop on a dime, so you never feel hindered from what could be a costly mistake if Peppino was a bit more loose. Not to mention the timer is often generous. Once I got a groove on the game's control schemes, the time you had to get the heck out felt marginal enough while juuuuuust a tad left over that it still left you feeling wrecked, but never frustrating.

All of this is a great, great tool to teach you for the upcoming final boss and oh my god, OH MY GOD, so rarely do I feel anything could get me pumped up as Pizza Tower does with Pizzaface.

The whole ass fight is a great demonstration of what happens when you push a man to his limits. We've seen Peppino mad, but never has he been filled with SO MUCH WRATH until now. By the time Pizzaface (quickly revealed to be Pizzahead) started bringing in the other bosses for a rush, it felt so justified when Peppino started SCREAMING with rage. He's had it, this is the fucking straw. This motherfucker and his minions had fucked with him for the

LAST. GODDAMN. TIME.

I tend to dread boss rushes (it depends), but Pizza Tower knows it. It knows because Peppino was also dreading it. No, none of this bullshit. No more. He's DONE. Other than each of the main four being truncated to a manageable level, Peppino straight up BEATS THE CRAP OUT OF THEM when he physically contacts them. FUCK THIS SHIT, FUCK EVERYTHING, he's probably thinking.

Then he proceeds to CREAM the fuck out of Pizzahead.

Pizzahead, who had the audacity to mess with his restaurant; Pizzahead, who sent wave after wave of enemies to stop this pissed off Italian; Pizzahead, who dares to put on a smile and pull off silly little pranks and other misfits during the boss fight because he's NOT taking Peppino seriously, a mistake he's paid for with several broken (cheese???) bones.

And a lot of this wouldn't have worked if the music didn't go hard. But they went hard. I'm gonna upload a Youtube link where someone compiled all three songs into one, because it just feels like the kind you have to listen to back-to-back.

This is like right up there with Final Fantasy VI's final bosses, where it had four major phases, each with their own songs, but you had to listen to all sixteen minutes of it because it just wouldn't feel right otherwise.

"Unexpectancy" is in the same boat.

The guitar riff, the rise in tension, the goddamn sampling of an old 1920s public domain song, "After You Get What You Want, You Don't Want It" by Van & Schenck (which seem appropriate given the lyrics talk about someone who can never be satisfied even after getting everything they want) - the whole ass thing is so. Damn. EPIC. And after the final fight, you have to get the hell out of the tower before it crumbles. Not just one level's worth, but the WHOLE ASS tower. Everything you've learned and hopefully mastered by this point will be tested as Peppino dashes like Sonic on drugs.

And it's so cool because you can pick up both your friends and the bosses (who, I guess, learned their lesson or something) to get the hell out (I guess the pig citizens are dead now cuz' they don't count.)

Like by the time you're outta there, you feel an IMMENSE sense of relief and satisfaction. Peppino won. YOU won. He can rest now and save his restaurant from debt (and maybe take his amlodipine while he's at it.)

Maybe because I'm so prone to anxiety myself, Pizza Tower - this silly little game - somehow ended up being not only relatable, but absolutely CATHARTIC.

It left me feeling so good by the time I finished. That a man like Peppino, where everything feels like it's out to get him (which, fair, they are), still decided that he's not going to put up with this bullshit, so he goes out and FIGHTS.

I don't think I have the strength to get all P-ranks in this game, but I'm so glad I played Pizza Tower. It was an incredibly fun, satisfying, validating experience.

[zeawesomebirdie]

hi !!!! did NOT consider you might like to have the ask again to answer it. if you do:

seeing you post about your old west au is motivating me to at least draft my stuff out for my fic, too!!! so, firstly: good god thank you. secondly, what kind of drafting process do you normally go through? you don't have to answer this but everyone i know is pretty particular about how they write so i'm always curious!!!

Gosh okay I'm still so embarrassed about accidentally posting this before it was ready!! Lesson learned: only work on long posts on desktop (very affectionate). I'm going to copy paste what I had originally said, but there will be added stuff because it wasn't anywhere near ready to go (if you thought it was long before, honey you ain't seen nothing yet!)

Also I still am so proud of you for working on your fic, we are writing buddies now hand in lovable hand I love you thank you for enabling my rambling <33

Buckle in, here we go!

SO! My drafting process is always a moving target. I do what works best for the work in question, and things change depending on my energy and fatigue levels plus my motivation and interest levels

So that said, right now my process usually looks like:

ramble at someone in DMs, copy and paste rambles into a google doc for safekeeping and marinating

zero draft, aka word vomit until a plot forms, block out actions and the occasional dialog, determine chapter and story arcs

first draft, aka Where The Real Writing Happens

optional second draft, but only if the fic is under 10k

line edits

post :)

find a bunch of typos that I somehow missed during line editing, fix those before anyone notices

I will be showing examples because this is a bit hard to explain and Extremely Intense to a lot of people, and yeah that's because it is! I approach writing fanfic the same way I approach writing original fiction, and I find it works best for me as a plotter

If you are metaphorically inclined and familiar with oil painting: I write the way an oil painter paints. First I block in the big shapes, the gestures, and the colours. Then I come back in subsequent drafts and increase the detail until I'm done!

Further information and actual examples of my drafts will be below the cut, because this is gonna be super long and I love talking shop ^.^

And general content warning for non-graphic violence and graphic smut (and shitty early drafts); the examples are from Bruce Wayne/Dick Grayson fics

So before we get into the zero draft, I want to point out two things: first, I do full rewrites. This is why writing takes me one million years. I retype each and every word in each and every draft. Second, I'm actually trying something new with the Old West!AU, for reasons I will explain in a moment!

I started doing full rewrites in 2019 after a college writing course, in which we read Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott; she encourages the reader to embrace the shitty first draft. I ended up really benefiting from a zero draft too, something I first learned about in 2020 from someone on authortube who I no longer remember the name of. The zero draft is essentially a pre-draft, in which one gets the gist of the story out of their system before the prose clogs up the spigot

For me, zero drafts are something that need to be finished as fast as possible in order to get done at all, so due to the sheer length of the Old West!AU, I'm trying out writing little bullet points instead of my full zero drafting. Right now this fic is at 27 chapters, and this is part 1 of 3 total. I will be going back and filling in the actual blocking once I have all the scenes roughly accounted for

Context for the Old West!AU: Bruce is the Bat, a vigilante gunman who only kills when he needs to but still has the fastest draw on this side of the Mississippi. Now that he's taken care of the man who killed his parents, he's returned home to his Uncle Alfred and gone straight, meaning that he's hung up his guns and gone back to homesteading the family land. He adopts Dick and then a year later Jason as well, when small burglaries start happening in town, so he takes the Bat out of retirement and goes to investigate.

My bullet points started out like this:

Open on comparison between Bruce's first gun and the Bat's guns. Introduce Joe Chill, general drunkard. The Bat calls out Chill, shootout, Chill is killed. Chill drew first. Moment of reflection between Bruce's first gunfight at 15 to this one, at 21. Bruce goes home.

And that's the whole entire first chapter!

However, now they look more like:

The Sheriff runs up and shoots at him. The Bat has him disarmed with his own gun barrel to his throat in an instant. It doesn't take the Bat much time to get info out of him either. The burglar is only going after small change, not enough to be noticeable. That rules out the gambler, easily. The Sheriff can't do shit about it, because no one is willing to start an investigation for such small change. The Bat shoves the Sheriff to his knees and is gone before he notices. Alfred is waiting for him when he gets home, and asks. Bruce tries to deny it, but the clothes are in his hands and he can't. So he sighs and says he may have made a promise, but… there might be more to this than there seems, okay? He just… has a bad feeling about it. Alfred can't accept this, what about his sons? Bruce can't take this, and tells him he doesn't have to. Their yelling wakes up Dick and Jason, who stand in the doorway to their bedroom and look on with the door mostly closed.

Eventually both Alfred and Bruce yell each other out, and they sit down for coffee as dawn breaks. Bruce breaks the silence first, saying Alfred is right. Alfred tells him he understands. Bruce decides to let the Bat go for real now.

This is about half of the chapter, and closer to the blocking I normally do in zero drafts

So far this pre-zero draft seems to be working, given I've already finished part 1, but I also can't wait to come back and do the blocking in because that's when the fic really starts to take shape!

Usually though, I just start with a zero draft. I'm going to show you two different fics for the zero draft examples, because they were done differently, and like I said at the beginning, I try to adjust my process based on what is called for by what I'm writing

This first is from the fic I'm writing for @ful-crum. It's a 5+1, in which it is five times Dick fucks Bruce to distract him from discussing his emotions plus one time they actually discuss their emotions and then fuck about it.

Tim and Jason turn up an hour later, and they're incredibly concerned. Dick waves them off. Tim takes him at his word and heads to bed (he has a meeting with Wayne Tech at 8am tomorrow, ugh), but Jason sits down next to the bed and asks Dick what he thinks Bruce is going to say. Dick tells him he's not sure, I mean, it's B, y'know? Jason just nods, and they lapse into silence. Then Steph and Cass come in, and Bruce is most noticeably not present. Cass signs something about bed, and Steph tells Dick that she's worried about Bruce, to which Jason snorts and says they all are, but she insists that Dick talk to him. Dick doesn't even need to take more than a moment to decide that won't be happening. But Steph goes to bed, and it's nearly 04:00 when Jason heads up too, saying he'd love to help Dick lecture Bruce about staying out late but he's got stuff to do tomorrow. Dick asks if he wants to know what stuff, and Jason gives him a smirk and says ask him no questions and he'll tell him no lies. Dick can live with that.

As you can see, this is just general staging directions and vibes

This second example was supposed to be for BruDick Week 2024, but I accidentally got carried away and ended up deciding to write a longfic for it instead. The prompt was "brudick meet their AU!selves," so I did 66!brudick meets the Gotham Rogues Polycule, an AU in which Bruce, Dick, and Clark are in a very elaborate polycule with half of Gotham's villains.

Batman and Robin were on a normal mission in the middle of the day, on the trail of Catwoman, who's been stealing from the Gotham Museum of Art again. One moment they were walking into the museum, the next they were in a weird swirl of energy. Robin clings to Batman and asks what's going on, and Batman tells him steady Robin, we just have to stay calm and see what happens. The energy clears as someone calls out “incoming! Clear the floor!” and they find themselves in what is clearly the Cave, except it's even more high tech than anything they've ever seen. There's three people in suits like theirs standing in front of a massive screen, and Robin identifies the Riddler immediately, even if he doesn't recognise the other two. Before Batman can stop him, he charges the Riddler, who jumps behind the man in black and blue with a laugh. Batman does call out for him to stop, but he ignores him. The man in black and blue meets his every move, almost like he's fighting himself, and he calls out to the man in red and blue “a little help here, Supes?”

The biggest difference here is how drastically these fics changed from their zero draft to the first draft rendition, and that is entirely because of how fleshed out they ended up being (or not being, lol)

When I zero drafted the 5+1, it was with the intention of that specific part simply being a chapter, whereas my original zero draft of the 66! meeting the polycule! fic was actually intended to be a two shot at most. I unfortunately lost control of the plot during the first draft of that one, and it spiraled into a longfic, which will become more clear in a bit!

Basically though, the goal of the zero draft is to know who's where and why at all times! With longfics, there is often a restructuring that happens after the zero draft is written, where I move scenes and sometimes whole chapters to their best locations. This is where I make the most use out of a beta! Pacing is a big struggle for me and it is easier to fix at this stage, before I have all the prose and have become attached to what I've written

Next up is the first draft, and this is a whole new document. This is where I write The Actual Words. This is more or less the final version of the fic, for longfics, give or take a few paragraphs and a shit ton of line edits. Having said that though, I write in fits and bursts, because y'know disabled and stuff. So I write a paragraph or two at a time, and I am constantly adding and subtracting words and lines and sometimes whole paragraphs while I am actively working on a chapter

I'm going to show the first draft versions of both of the above fics, and due to the length these will be extremely excerpted but they should serve as examples regardless. Generally speaking, my zero drafts are about 1/3 of the length of my finished fics, however the 5+1 is currently proving to be an exception so that number may not be super accurate

First, the 5+1:

“You did take care of them, right?” Dick asked, groaning when Jason’s mouth thinned as he looked away. “Is Steph at least still with him?” “Last I heard, they were—” Jason started, cutting himself off when the Cave’s alarm signaled the arrival of newcomers. A moment later, two muddy bikes roared into the garage, leaving dark tracks behind them as they parked haphazardly together on the far side of the garage. With the return of Black Bat and Spoiler, the only empty place on the garage floor now belonged to Batman himself. Dick tried to catch Jason’s eyes as they waited in the med bay for Cass and Steph to strip off their suits and join them, but Jason turned away from him, though he didn’t rise from the bed. Something must have gone down after he’d fallen unconscious, Dick was sure of it. Why else would Bruce have sent everyone else home early on a patrol night? He could already see it in his mind’s eye, Batman doing God-knew-what out in Gotham alone, Bruce coming home with a busted lip that Dick would have to personally clean up before they went to bed, how that lip would scab over and feel under his tongue when he kissed Bruce the next morning after waking up in their bed—Bruce’s bed—on accident. How that scab would stretch when the ghost of a smile caught Bruce by surprise after one of Dick’s terrible puns. “You okay?” Steph called across the Cave as she and Cass walked toward the med bay. “Never been better,” Dick replied, trying not to be put out at Jason’s eye roll. He put up a hand for Cass to inspect when she came up to his bedside, and after she had nodded her satisfaction of his health he smiled. “I’ll be right as rain in no time.”

And the 66! meets polycule! fic:

“You!” Robin shouted, not waiting for Batman to back him up as he charged toward the Riddler. Riddler didn't move—in fact, none of the three moved—then Robin was on him, punching his face hard enough to hear a distinct crack. That startled all three into action, Riddler swearing up a storm before throwing himself behind the blue masked man, who blocked Robin's next hits without hesitation. “Robin!” Batman called from somewhere behind him, but Robin ignored him, focusing his energy on striking past the masked man's defenses to get at Riddler. “I know you're behind this, you– you scum!” Robin snarled in Riddler's direction, placing a perfectly timed jab toward the masked man's left cheek and then feinting to the right. But the man met him easily, as though they were merely sparring. “I'm not who you think I am!” Riddler exclaimed, his hands cupping his face but doing little to staunch the blood streaming from his nose. “Let's slow down for a minute, okay?” the masked man said, his voice maddeningly level as if Robin wasn't trying every trick he knew to get past him. “We can explain.” “Yeah kid, there's a good explanation here, we promise,” Riddler added. Robin growled and spun around the  masked man's reach only to find him once again directly blocking him from Riddler. How in the dickens did he know exactly where Robin was going to strike before Robin himself knew? And why on earth was he protecting the Riddler? “Supes, we could use a hand here,” the masked man said, still obnoxiously calm, once again blocking Robin's fist and this time circling his hand around Robin's wrist to twist his arm behind his back. In a blink, Robin was lifted into the air by his collar, the blue and red suited man holding him at arm's length. Robin continued to struggle for a moment, but finally Batman came into view, frowning up at him. Seeing Batman's disapproval took every bit of wind from Robin's sails, and he deflated instantly. If Batman didn't think he needed to fight, then he probably didn't need to.

So as you can see, I just kinda fill in the details with each draft!

Which is where we come to the optional second draft. I try, I really do try, to do a full second draft of everything I write. I always am glad to have done one, once it's done. The problem is, I really do have very limited energy, and anything longer than a chapter or two just doesn't get finished if I try to give it a full second draft. I've instead been doing really vigorous line edits, which I don't have an examples of because those are done in the same document as the first draft!

Now, you're probably wondering why on earth I gave a smut content warning at the beginning of this post. WELL.

I am calling myself out as a newbie when it comes to the art of smut writing. My 5+1 fic, the one where literally every single part has extremely explicit smut, has the following in the zero draft:

Yes, that is not one, not two, but three "cue smuts." Clearly I was new at this (affectionate)

Shout out to past!me for this in the last part though, because at least it actually has some semblance of blocking even if it is still extremely lacking:

The kissing escalates (as it often does) to smut over the desk (though Dick does try to move the documents out of the way, even if Bruce is growling at him to leave it alone; he doesn't want to be the reason Tim has another caffeine-induced breakdown).

I didn't figure this out until I was actually writing this fic, but it turns out I not only need to block in regular action scenes, I also need to block in the smut, because otherwise I will be sitting there having no fucking clue what to write (very affectionate)

So I now present what a zero draft of smut looks like! This is from a 5+1 in which there are five times Bruce and Dick fuck because of Poison Ivy's sex pollen and it "doesn't mean anything," plus one time they fuck because they actually want to:

Dick asks if they can take off their suits, it's too hot he's too hot, and Bruce says okay, that's a good idea, and internally he's panicking because oh no. Oh no. But the moment the words are out he sees the relief in Dick's face, and realises Dick needs to be told what to do right now, so he tells him clearly to strip, it'll help. Once Dick is fully naked in the other seat, he turns to Bruce and asks if he needs help with his armor. His hand is tentatively, almost shyly stroking his cock, and Bruce is really struggling to not watch. He tells him no, he doesn't, and takes off the chest plate and arm armor, but leaves what's left of his leg armor on. He decides he can safely put his hand under his boxers, but Dick makes a little noise, and when he looks over he can clearly see Dick watching him stroke himself. Oh fuck. He's cumming before he even realises it, his boxers getting wet and sticky and his cock still so maddeningly hard and he strokes himself through it, unable to stop himself from moaning even as he tries to keep himself in a clinical mindset. Dick asks to see him, and Bruce, despite knowing what a bad, horrible idea this is, pulls down his boxers to reveal his cock. Dick shifts his hand on his own cock to mimic what Bruce is doing, and Bruce has the horrible realisation that he doesn't even really know how to jerk himself off. Dear God, hopefully Alfred stays the fuck out of the Cave tonight.

So it's really just more of the same general blocking directions and vibes!

Another thing of note for zero drafts, I try to use as few words as possible to get what I need across. These are only ever intended to be seen by myself and a beta, assuming anyone else besides me even sees them at all, so I use slang and shorthand and leave notes for myself in the text itself

This can be a bit weird for when I show it to betas (or anyone else, for that matter!) because there are some fics where the tone or the vocabulary in the zero is incredibly modern despite the fic being in a historical or pre-modern setting!

And I have yet to actually write the first draft of that one, so I'm going to give you the first draft of the "Cue more smut (but this time against the batmobile 😌)" scene so that you can see the difference between the blocking and an Actual Scene:

Bruce had turned his back to him, bracing himself against the batmobile, and Dick took hold of Bruce's hip to hold him steady when he slid a finger into his hole. A soft moan was all he got in verbal response, but Bruce pushed against Dick's finger despite Dick's best efforts to do this slowly. Chuckling under his breath, Dick slid in a second finger, relishing in the clench of Bruce's muscle as he began working him open. “Easy, B,” he said softly, leaning over him enough to move his hand from Bruce's hip to his cock. Bruce growled and arched into his touch, taking in Dick's fingers completely. “Someone's in a rush tonight, huh?” He didn't get a verbal response, not that he ever did. Bruce rarely spoke while full, relying instead on nonverbal communication to indicate his needs. It hadn't taken long for Dick to become acquainted with his movements back when they started this; after all, fucking was no different from fighting, not for them, not when they had flown side by side across Gotham for more than half of Dick's life. And Dick knew Bruce would always try to get him to rush just a little, knew he'd give in like he always did, wanting to have his cock inside Bruce as soon as physically possible just as much as Bruce did. He wasted no more time, sliding his fingers out and releasing Bruce's cock just long enough to slick up his own. The small whine from Bruce at the loss of contact ought to be ignored, ought not be acknowledged, and Dick knew that, but he couldn't resist leaning over to kiss the small of Bruce's back. Bruce huffed at him, glaring over his shoulder. Dick met his eyes with a grin. Then Dick gripped Bruce's hip again, holding him steady while Bruce leaned back to meet him, and slipped into his tight heat. There was a soft moan from Bruce the moment he bottomed out; Dick leaned forward again to kiss up his spine, keeping his cock buried deep even while Bruce began to rock back into him.

I do think the fic for @ful-crum would be easier if I had proper blocking for the smut, but also I do love a good challenge and you live and you learn, so I'm not super invested in going back and blocking in the smut at this point in time!

And honestly, once the line edits are done that's pretty much it!

I keep a little "posting info" doc for each and every fic I write, to which I add tags as I come to them in writing, so that I don't have to think about what needs to be tagged at the end after I've already forgotten what I've written. That has saved my butt so many times ngl, especially for longfics!

But really what keeps me from posting more often, despite how much I write, is that I fully finish fics before I post them, even if I'm posting them on a weekly or whatever basis. This is mostly because I can't guarantee when I'll need to randomly take several months off of writing, and I don't want to leave anything unfinished, but also because I don't want to actually end up leaving something unfinished for a few years until I cycle back into the fandom

And that's it!! Thanks for tuning in to this little master class :) If I can clarify anything please let me know; I tried to explain everything that I thought needed it but I can never tell what others will need more clarification on!!

And also, thanks again for asking this!! I don't know many people who do full drafts, or even many people who don't completely pants everything they write, and so I'm always excited to discuss my process!! I also am a firm believer in "take what helps and leave the rest," so if you find something in my process that sounds like something you'd like to do, give it a whirl!! I think it's super important to share the different kinds of processes there can be for writing, because everyone really writes so differently, you know?

Anyway, thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoyed my shitty early drafts (very affectionate)!!

[batrogers]

Febuwhump Day 15: "Who Did This To You?"

Hyrule Warriors Link, with Toon Link as an older Spirit Tracks Link. Both characters from my That Broken Promise AU, a backstory fic.

Content Warnings: stitches, and discussion of implied abuse.

Also warning for confusingly overlapped timelines going on, but all other stuff under the cut.

[Chief here refers to Prince as "Captain", due to his current rank and meeting him in Hytopia three or four years ago as far as he's concerned. Chief is known to the others as "Engie", also due to his current job status. The mark on Prince's arm references one of his backstory fics, Eclipse of the Sun, but the fic is graphic and has a rape warning.]

IIII

It had taken eight months from when Link joined the army of Hyrule for the Hero of this era to come in with an injury bad enough to need a medic’s care. The cut was deep, all the way up his inner arm until the chainmail bunching up had prevented further damage. He was bleeding, badly.

“Engie, Boy!” the main healer called. “Get over here, you work fast!”

You work fast. He certainly did; he hated stitches as much as (sometimes more than) the person who needed them, but the main healer wasn’t wrong. He dropped everything else he was doing and didn’t even bother trying to get the Captain’s shirt off.

“Hold his arm up,” he snapped, and someone else was there with the supplies.

There wasn’t much else to say until he was done. By the time the wound was closed, the General and her Princess had left the tent to deal with things of their own, and the Captain seemed of half a mind to follow.

Link laid his hand on his shoulder. “You need to stay here,” he said, his voice soft and uncertain, even as Captain (so much younger than he had met him before) turned to glare.

Still.

“You heal fast. If I don’t take the stitches out in an hour, they’re going to heal over and we’ll have to reopen your arm to get them out.”

Captain scoffed at him, annoyed, and Link just reached up to touch his own cheek. The scar on his face wasn’t that bad, but he turned his head so the other man could see it stretched under his ear to the back of his neck, ragged and uneven.

The original wound had been bad: he’d been six, and snuck into Alfonso’s workshop unseen while he was fixing rivets. One had snapped out and hit him in the neck. The treatment had gone well enough, but none of them had realized how fast he healed until it was too late.

The scar seemed to quiet the Captain and he uneasily moved his arm before grimacing and gesturing at his shirt. Link stepped up, hands out to help and pulled off his armour, tunic, and mail until he had to help untangle the Captain from his undershirt. The fabric was ruined, and Link stepped aside to tell someone to retrieve the Captain a new one from his tent before he left.

While his back was turned, the young man stepped aside and started bathing. Link glanced back only long enough to realize he was doing it and then turned back around to start audibly cleaning up. Captain hadn’t told him and Smith much about his time during the war, but his desire for privacy had been obvious. With his healing being what it was, Link wasn’t worried about him reopening the injury so he could give him the space and did.

When he came back from taking the dirty sheets away, the Captain was sitting on the cot, his back to the entrance and his damp tunic in his lap. Link nearly left once more before realizing he had a scar. No; not a scar, or not just a scar. There was some kind of red design scarred into his arm, like someone had drawn it with a pen. He tried to make sense of it: it was a perfect circle around his left shoulder, the marks blotched and uneven now but he could tell that was from poor healing.

The Captain looked up at him, his face empty of emotion, and looked away.

Link looked away too and picked up his mail to start washing it himself. A few minutes later, Captain was behind him, taking the wet metal to hang it up and handing him the green tunic instead. Link simply nodded, but spoke up.

“Don’t try to hold that with your injured arm just yet.”

He heard the soft, amused laugh from Captain and when he looked up, the younger man frowned and gestured at his arm... At his scarred shoulder, with a dark expression.

The question was obvious: 'aren't you going to comment?'

Link shook his head. “I saw it. It’s none of my business who hurt you.”

He wished it was. He wished he could keep him safe, because simply saying it like he had had made the Captain’s eyes flinch to hear it named: Who hurt you.

Because I know someone did.

Had anyone told him he was being hurt before now? He’d talked about it like a novel thing in Hytopia, the idea he didn’t deserve it. That what was done to him was wrong.

Spirits, he’d only heard about it, not seen the evidence of it before. He’d never seen Captain undressed at all.

If he had marks like that on his chest, small wonder he never had.

The Captain turned away and sat down again. Link turned back to cleaning his tunic, not expecting him to answer more, but when he wrung the green fabric out and turned back to face him, Captain had his small chalkboard in hand with two words on it: ‘The witch.’

Link ground his teeth. He didn’t ask, not here and now. He could guess he only meant the one fielding the army they fought.

But he knew, because of meeting an older Captain from after all this was over, that wasn’t the only one who hurt him (was hurting him.) The head medic here saw people triaged for magical healing long before they came to the tents, for those who’s issues could be addressed with fabric, thread, and rest... So Lana never came here.

For the best. Link watched Captain’s shy smile fade as he wiped the words from the slate, as if to banish the thought from his mind, and wished he could punch her. What he'd heard before paled to having to watch her dote on Captain in person now, knowing there was nothing he could do. He was nobody to them.

“Lay down a little while,” Link said aloud. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to see to your arm again, okay?”