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bobbinacrossafricatake2 · 4 months

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Namibia - On the Move

May 19, 2024

Seb got up at 5:00 AM to visit Bruce again at the solar observatory. He was perched on a bench (asleep?) but seemingly happy to have company. His most powerful telescope was misbehaving, so we first looked through the other two. He tried to convince Sarah that she could simply look at his insta site, but it’s not the same, so he kept at it until the good one found Saturn and focused. Pretty dang cool to see the ring(s), and also a glimpse of an unfocused red Mars. Bruce muttered on about galaxies and nebulas and a bunch of stuff that Sarah frankly didn’t understand,but without the moon, she enjoyed the spectacular sky, complete with two shooting stars, the Milky Way, Sagittarius and a few other things she could marginally appreciate! Back at the room, Jill’s alarm had just gone off, so Sarah convinced her to turn off all the lights and look at the sky out by the pool. The Milky Way visible to the naked eye.

We finished packing and headed to breakfast in the lounge. Yum - a seemingly wholesome bowl, kombucha concoction (for gut health, as if that’s a priority here), cappuccino, coffee, and other treats. As usual, different light on the horizon for a new and wonderful look at the same view. We saw Ty and Idea one last time, said farewell to our hosts and jumped into a vehicle with Lance and Rebecca. The airports in Namibia are basically a few tents for shelter while waiting, a loo, and an area to keep fuel for the planes - not fancy! Our ginormous plane (ha - seats twelve, plus pilot and co-pilot, which is not part of the team) was there; we waited for a few other passengers and headed northwest. The views were amazing. First, the red dunes as far as one could see. Then a river bed that delineated where the dunes changed from red sand to white (well, tan). The textures and subtle color changes were only outdone by the change from dunes to flat(ish) sand to rough, sandy areas to mountains that were almost black. Our first pilot had made a comment that Namibia has many “table mountains” and true to her word, we passed over an area that was all about flat-topped mountains.

Our first flight had a stopover in Swalopmund where we swapped out a few passengers and refueled, then onto Doro Nawas. It was totally fun, when we landed to see our first Namibia pilot who remembered our names. (Ah, it’s the little things that make an impression). Most passengers boarded vehicles, but we had our third flight of the day to the camp’s airstrip. This flight was on a miniature (4-6 seater) Cessna. Max, our guide for the three days we’re at the Hoanib Skeleton Coast Camp, met us as we got off the flight, collected our bags, and drove us the 25 min or so to our new home. The terrain here is still desert, but oh so different from Soussusvlei. It’s scruffier, rougher, with small, rocky hills dotting the landscape.

We arrived at camp to the staff singing a welcome song. They greeted us with the traditional cold, wet towels and fresh drink (lemonade in this case). We went in, met a bunch of staff, and got the overview of the lodge. It’s seriously hot here, reportedly 97 degrees today. But in WDC, it would be unbearable, here it’s simply hot. It’s a tented camp, not even close to the opulence of the &Beyond lodge, but really charming. We are admittedly a bit concerned that there’s no A/C - will see how that works out. We’re told that the winds usually come from the west (Atlantic) but for the last five days and at least the next few, they’re from the east, bringing hot air. Oh well, Mother Nature (and maybe climate change?) at work. We opted for lunch before going to our room. Yummy.

Our room/tent here is the closest one on one side of the lodge. It’s super nice, albeit more simple than the last place. But it’s well designed, with a nice view toward the watering hole for local creatures, good storage for two, plugs and WiFi (again only in the room, not in the common areas), a patio with lounge chairs and table, and a good bathroom with double sinks. Can’t really ask for more! We settled in quickly and then each took naps, it having been a short night. Tea at 4:30 PM (or “sweet and savory” as they dubbed it) was nice with more lemonade and we met our vehicle companions for the next few days, Robert and Jo. They’re super nice, which bodes well for a good time with Max. Off we went for our first game ride. Driving out of camp each of us admitted later that we had the lowest expectations ever for a game drive. We’re in the desert, with almost nothing green, loads of sand and rock, and not a creature in sight (except the flies and moths at lunch). Hurrah for being wrong!! Our first sighting was a baby giraffe. Sooooooooooo adorable. He was alone, very much blended into the background with very pale markings, and well, we all swooned. On we went and saw oryxes and springboks (hanging together), a few interesting birds, another large giraffe, and some baboons. The highlight was when we found Charlie leading Obi back toward camp. There are four lions on this private concession,3 sisters (Alpha, Beta and Charlie) and Obi, a male who was causing trouble in another area and re-located before locals took matters into their own hands, which would not be a good outcome for Obi. Now, he now has the choice of three girls. Not bad. Charlie is his favorite - for now. Charlie in the lead, we tracked them for a while. Stunning creatures, both; they’re hungry and on the hunt (watch out baby giraffe!). Such majestic presence. Max was great tracking, explaining, finding us good photo and viewing opportunities, and generally making sure our experience was fab. Indeed it was.

Back at camp, we were greated with our drink of choice (called in by Max as we approached camp) and enjoyed it at the firepit. There are only eight guests in camp today, and the staff moved the tables to the lounge area patio. It had cooled just enough to make dining al fresco very comfortable. Dinner, of course, was delicious: broccoli tempura as appetizer and a pork dish for the main course. The staff is quite attentive to Jill’s dairy limitation, and offered alternatives as needed. Mango sorbet was a perfect replacement on this warm night.

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sealrock · 5 months

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benchmark shenanigans

my pc didn't explode!! 3 hours well spent I must say

putting everything under the cut because it got long but I'm actually really looking forward to dawntrail now;

main roster:

(andromache is missing for obvious reasons)

ok I will say the CC did not inspire confidence in me when I first loaded in my ocs, especially paris. I used the lominsa location for better lighting but the wet sheen seemed to taint my first opinion of the graphics update. the updated eye and hair textures are well done, however

for paris, the lip shine, tweezed eyebrows, and eyelashes (and subtle makeup it looks like) are kind of jarring on them. they need to look crusty!! not moisturized!!!

achille looks.. rough. the eyes on face 4 looks fine currently, but here he looks zooted out of his goddamn mind. and I've been using dark eyebrows for all my ocs for a while now, seeing him with blond eyebrows is a shock to the system

hector (and patroclus) look so good though I think I hauve covid. like face 6 got the biggest upgrade to me, they actually have good-looking noses, eyebrows, and lips!!!

tauvane looks good, not as crusty anymore! the lips are better than what's in-game currently. she kinda matches achille in looking high as hell but it's less severe

npcs:

the tatlonghari brothers are also safe. I'm obsessed with how face 1 looks, evander also got a better nose and they kept his acne marks which made me tear up with joy. his face looks a lot more round than his current model so I may end up changing it once dawntrail comes out

patroclus is back to his old face template from now on, and actually looks like he has a 10-step skincare routine now, it's great. like hector, he looks very good

I also did kirke for a bit and she looks decent!! the limbal rings look nice to me, though her lips are gonna have to grow on me

benchmark looks:

crying and screaming and throwing up at how paris looks outside of the cc, overall they look great! I may end up using my fantasia to tweak their face a bit but otherwise I don't think I'll have any issues playing them throughout the msq

achille still looks goofy asf, but that's just me unable to make face 4 look nice with this combination of colors. I actually may end up giving him a different face entirely because he doesn't look like how I imagine him. I try not to give two of my ocs the same face template but I wanna try face 1 on him to try and get him closer to his parents in appearance

oh my god hector makes me wanna bite my desk. he got the best glowup, and the new hair looks great on him!! 10/10, face card cleared, no notes

my girl tauvane looks a lot better rendered in the benchmark than cc. I also noticed her hair color is a touch darker than current, it's a nice touch!

bonus shots:

evander and patroclus look amazing with the new lighting like whaddahell. they wouldn't actually be melee dps so watching them be a viper was kinda funny

I wanted to test kirke real quick as well with limbral rings, she looked cool throughout the entire thing. and I may be wrong but it looks like they gave this hair extra bones because the bangs move with the wind, really neat!

I ran yves' elezen model through the benchmark as well since his face is custom. as I don't play elezen his skin tone looks decent to me, it's not as ashy like his in-game model

#cid.txt #yea my current pc will actually choke trying to run this on full res so a complete pc upgrade is needed #so i give the new graphics a 7/10

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tsunael · 5 months

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BENCHMARK TIME

It's beautiful (for the most part).

I think with our new fantasia I'll be darkening Tsuna's eyes (I've been wanting to do this anyway), shrinking her from 69 to 50 (lmao), and lengthening her tail from 69 to 100 (lol lmao). I love the new texture on the horns and how they look kind of weathered!! They have a subtle shine and you can see little scratches and dents in them that make them look really natural.

I also noticed they gave lil winged eyeliner!! It's difficult to see with her hair but it gives the eye 2 such a nice shape.

Limbal rings look really good and the lighter colors are emissive now when they weren't before. I won't be using them but I really appreciate the change.

A little disappointed that lipstick no longer gives the lips a shine so it's all matte now which is a strange change. No lip gloss in Tural I guess. And they didn't fix Au Ra not having a proper red lip but oh well.

Her lips were my favorite part about her and they really changed the shape so it'll take time getting used to lmao. I don't mind too much though. Her RBF got even stronger and I'm afraid of her.

Valtyrja looks amazing 😭 I'll be changing her ear shape and warming her skin tone because while the darker skin looks much better than it did, I think it made it look a bit ashy on a lot of tones which is a little disappointing. I've heard similar opinions on twitter... BUT light shines through their ears now and it's incredible.

My thancred alt... uh. Well, he has acne now.

#benchmark aauuguh #I'm so excited help #au ra

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scalamore · 1 year

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Ch 96 - Random thoughts and impressions (small spoilers)

Fangirl time

I LOVE how Lari is the one who's a blushing mess during the horse ride home. Usually the ML is flustered because of the FL's boob squish, but Lari is as affected by it. She's completely paralyzed because all her senses is focused on his solid, muscular chest HAHAHA. Surprisingly, Rupert isn't blushy or awkward about hit, he's ok with it. BUT I BET IF THE POSTIONS WERE REVERSED HE MIGHT BE REALLY BLUSHING?? haha

On a random note, I wish we got more Lari cleavage. Apparently KKP doesn't allow too much since this is the all-ages version. I think it's nice Lari has a nice chest, makes her extra soft and fluffy :3

Yup, Lari is not getting the think that Rupert likes her romantically. She's still thinking about TL1 and how he married Tory. She's not quite sure if RupeTory have a romantic inclination, but at least confirms he has no active plans of marrying Tory or anyone else right now. Interesting I WONDER WHY THAT IS LARI.

OK tory is just ridiculously creepy, just using Lari's balcony as an entrance/exit , staring at her when she's asleep and then moving on. Lari's a pretty light sleeper so she knows this has been going on. CREEPY.

THERE IS BOUND TO BE SOME COMMENTER who sees that in this time skip things are boring ("that's it"?), that Lari fixed her initial problem already and she's just idling time away passively. I will try my best to ignore the haters and not spoil HOW this is the calm before the storm... this calmness is what made it extra painful later when plot hits.

IDK what to make of the manhwa saying she's 17 soon. Is it an error? instead of a 6 month time skip, is it now 1 year and 6 months??? IDKKKKKKKKK (see my prior post)

ANYWAYS. LARI LOOKS EXTRA ELEGANT AT THE SECOND HALF OF THE CHAPTER. She's winding down for the night, drinking tea, and she looks extra mature and pretty to me. The S3 cover makes it seem she doesn't get a haircut/permanent hair style change, so maybe this is her casual hair on a cold winter day?? I also don't know what to think about this.

I like Elaine, she's cool

YES, THE DETAIL WHERE RUPERT GRABS HER HANDS AAAA I hope we get the internal monologue about that it's v cute to read

OMG THE FACIAL EXPRESSIONS ARE AMAZING. You can see the moment the light is extinguished from his eyes in those cuts. There's a subtle texture oh his cheeks/nose/hands - showing he's been out wandering out in the snow for who knows how long before he arrived at Lari's balcony.

I call it a balcony, but it's on the 1st floor. I don't know a better word for it.

HAHAH so he does flop on her bed in the novel, but it just hits differently to see him just getting nicely tucked into 'Lari's bed by Lari herself. She actually tries to kick up out with the comment of needing a bath in the novel lol. DOMESTIC LARI IM OK WITH TOO

OMG RUPERT LOOKS SO EMPTY AND DEAD INSIDE. POOR GUY IS JUST LOST AND BROKEN RN while Lari is trying to get him to open up and talk about what's wrong

LARI UR SHOCKED FACE IS JUST SO CUTE I LOVE YOU

So technically Rupert's red eyes aren't because he's been crying, but rather, they're red/baggy because of the shock/realization he has nothing left. he's completely empty, the emperor is dead, he killed him himself, yet EMPTY. NOTHING. IS HE HAPPY? no. IS HE SAD? No. EMMMPPPPTTTYYYYY

PLEASE MANHWA TEAM, GIVE US A GOOD CHAPTER 97 WITH LOTS OF EXPOSITION OF WHAT HAPPENED TO RUPERT AAAAAAA

#your majesty please spare me this time #manhwa #rupelali #rofan #otome isekai

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pissmd · 1 year

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literally how in the world is your art that good it literally makes my brain buffer!!

got any tips?

thank you so much mac! honestly a huge range of tips i could cover haha but i’ll see if i can give you some of my favourite tips that were the catalyst for my own improvement!

one of the biggest steps i made with painting realistically is after discovering a technique used to blend colours using gaussian blur. i dont use it as often but its still extremely useful for achieving a fast dreamy blended colour. but first i’ll explain how i use it. i’ll have my layer with my painting of say, my subjects face, duplicate the layer, set the upper layer to a lower percentage of opacity (around 50% at first but i often find that turns out too low of a %) and then i’ll go to the lower layer and add the filter gaussian blur and play around with the area to blur (often end up settling around the 20.00s) and after ive readjusted the upper layers opacity to maintain the structure of the painting the result ends up extremely dynamic with a nice blended look to it.

this was helpful for me when i started using a textured brush for quickly laying down colours without having to overly fuss about blending. because before using the textured brush i use now i used to use a soft brush to carefully blend while laying down colours and it was an Extremely slow and tedious way to paint. (oh and btw using my textured brush which is called ‘analog anabelle’ its a clip studio paint brush, adds a nice texture to just about everything, looks great for skin and for clothing, but has mixed effects for hair admittedly. i use a different textured brush i downloaded from the site called SU-Cream Pencil for fine details of hair).

it’s hard to explain in a way that doesnt reduce gaussian blur to a shortcut and a trick because the result of using the gaussian blur for the first time flicked a switch in my understanding of painting as well as speeding up my process an extreme amount. and now i dont rely on it to blend my colours anymore because its trained my eye and i can achieve a nicer blend by my own hand. i did use it recently on my house art as a finishing effect to his jacket though! a before and after image:

and it also helps for making lighting more dreamy, it came in handy for edges of wilsons face, making the rim lighting seem to bleed into the pinks of his face:

part of why this trained my eye was it helped me embrace trusting the process as well as using colours i deemed “ugly”, really it was about the idea of colours being contextual which ive known about for years but had been rejecting and winding up with paintings flooded with too many reds and pinks.

(picture of a page of hans p bacher & sanatan suryavanshis vision: color and composition for film)

the thing about thinking of colours contextually too is that it gave me a better understanding of achieving realistic effects with painting those trickier areas like eyes, which are a lot of subtle shifts in colour but sans eye makeup and/or deep wrinkles there arent really any hard lines. eyes and clothes wrinkles are all about the illusion of hard lines. (i only started really improving my art when i phased out line art which started with phasing out lines in clothes because the hard lines of the line art were competing with my subtly painted illusory hard lines) heres an example of when i was first phasing out of lines vs where i think my progress in understanding has taken effect in subtly painting illusory hard lines in clothing is most clear:

see how despite the fact i was still using line art in the left image the inside of the clothing has hardly any inner lines defining folds. but in the right image i have no line art at all and yet the folds look more structured and solid.

one more thing that was an important discovery to me is something i call overpainting. this may or may not help everyone but i keep different parts of my painting on separate layers, like a shirt layer, body layer, hair layer etc etc. and i used to have difficulties with the edges where the layers separated bc id be left with a lot of ugly sharp transitions between the body and the shirt.

an example:

but what helped me was creating a folder above all my layers and painting on an unlocked transparent pixel layer over the top and softening the transition between those layers. it also helps with making my subjects edges blend into the background heres what my edgar art looks like with and without the overpainting:

you can see the edge of his left sleeve is almost completely blurred into the colour of the stone bench, and you can see how i use the overpainting to blend hair into the background

these are all of my most recent discoveries that have helped me sorry if theyre of no use but i apply all of these in all my art to gain a more realistic effect! and if you have any further questions or need for clarification feel free to ask!

#i had to stop there because tumblrs image limit but i love talking about art so im grateful for the question🙏💕#all of what ive learned is self taught/osmosis from other artists tips online btw im not formally trained so take that into consideration #like all of this is the stuff that applies to how ive managed to improve my own art and style over the years and may not be applicable t you #asks

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corvus--rex · 2 years

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I don't like resolutions usually since they end up feeling so forced. So I'm not doing that, but what I am doing is instead of saying "I'm going to do xyz this year", I'm promising myself that I'm going to work on finishing things - ie, working through the backlog of yarn, sewing, cleaning, etc projects, and also all my unfinished fics that have been just sitting there half-done.

That said, I've started going through my wips folder and realized that I actually have almost half of the next chapter of Here Come the Vultures already done. I've mentioned it a few times as this is the chapter with ~1350 words dedicated to just their clothes (send help). It's probably not going to be finished for a little while, but I'm posting the first part here anyway.

The first two chapters are up on ao3 here, and the accompanying, basically unedited (and fuck does it need to be), oneshot is here. There are already two songs in this chapter, Combustion and Tragedy of the Commons. Also I do have links/reference photos of their outfits if anyone's interested

☆・* ♪ *・☆

The next outfit change went as smoothly as it could. Keith was clinging to Lance, and Shiro was flirting with Adam, but it was still successful. The last part of the day was the one Allura had the most anxiety over. The fourth, and final, shoot was for their tour outfits. They would be doing the main promo shots for the tour while in what they would be wearing on stage during the actual shows. While they all personally picked out and bought what they were wearing, Allura kept their outfits at Oriande under lock and key until leaving for the tour. This was the first time the six saw their clothes in person, and would be one of the last until the tour actually started. Back in the dressing room, every section had a black garment bag and shoebox waiting for each member of Castle of Lions. The room was silent except for the sounds of clothes changing for the next few minutes. Even when they were done, no one left their dressing areas, taking in their new outfits.

“I, um…I am never taking these off,” Keith said to the sound of a soft swish of fabric.

When Pidge had first opened her garment bag, everyone heard, “I like this even more in person.” A few minutes later, “Oh. I really like this even more in person.”

A soft shifting of chains came from Matt. “Ooh, nice.”

Shiro was still getting dressed and making frustrated grumbling sounds. “How in the absolute fuck…ah. Got it.”

“Oh, this is even comfier than it looks,” Hunk said appreciatively.

Lance stomped on the floor once, making chains somewhere on him rattle, and giggled. “I Love that.”

Allura came back after what she had thought was more than enough time to find the main dressing room empty. “Aren’t you six dressed yet?” she asked.

“Oh. Shit. Sorry. I think we all got distracted,” Lance said.

All six members of Castle of Lions walked out of their dressing areas at the same time, looking each other over when they gathered in a loose circle.

Hunk always favored practicality with his fashion. His hooded sleeveless top was a textured black, leather accents at the shoulders, antiqued brass rings and buckle on his right, all brought together by the front lacing. He always wore shorts on stage, and these ones were covered in zippers and buckles, the cargo pockets featuring their own leather straps, studs, and rings, all of the metal hardware in the same antiqued brass as his top. Finishing his outfit were thick-soled, combat-style boots that featured a pair of wide straps, their hardware in antiqued brass as well.

Beside Hunk was Matt, who had also opted for a lack of sleeves, although he cared far, far less for practicality. A tight-fitting tank top sat under the mesh overlay, the solid black broken up by two diagonal lengths of lacing in bright silver chain. Skin tight black pants had a subtle sheen to them, two exposed silver zippers over the right pocket, but it was the V-shaped lacing over both knees that made them out of the ordinary. At their core, Matt’s boots weren’t dissimilar from Hunk’s, but where Hunk’s had two thick, buckled straps, Matt’s had five, all with bright silver buckles, complete with grinning skulls in profile.

Taking up Matt’s other side was Shiro. His outfit was overall more subtle than either Matt or Hunk, and the details were far less likely to be noticed on stage. At a distance, his top looked like not much more than a long-sleeved black tee. Up close, the asymmetrical hem was obvious, as was the black lacing on both his right shoulder and left side from ribs to hem, and the fact that it was just a little sheer. The more unique feature was at the bottom of the sleeves, which ended in a thumb hole and a sort of half glove up his index fingers. Shiro kept his tight black jeans simple only featuring a patch with pewter D-rings on his right hip and a buckled strap around his right thigh that connected to a black chain which clipped to a belt loop. All of the deceptive simplicity let his boots take the spotlight. Knee-high black leather, three thin pewter-buckled straps, layered leather that swept up to his calf, and black leather lacing that stopped just below the top two straps.

Pidge was the most colorful of the band. While her pants would be taken over her cold, dead body, she allowed herself to indulge in her secret love for dresses on stage. This one was deep emerald velvet, black spaghetti straps disappearing into the black ruffled trim along the neckline. The skirt ended at mid-thigh, but the deep, black lace trim brought it almost to her knees. Her favorite lace-trimmed black velvet choker fit perfectly, as did the black and green spiderweb-patterned, elbow-length fingerless gloves topped with wide buckled straps. One thing she would never compromise on were her shoes. Giant chunky 10cm heels and thick platforms every time. It was no different for the knee-high black leather boots with full lacing and three buckled straps that finished off her outfit.

Lance stood between Pidge and his mate. Much like Hunk and his shorts or Pidge’s boots, Lance had his own signature piece. For him it was black damask dress shirts – which started when Keith once told him just how damn good he looked in them. Like every other one he owned, this one had been tailored to his broad shoulders and narrow waist. It was left untucked with a pair of points dipping down at both the front and back. The long sleeves echoed those points, finishing the deep, turned cuffs. Lance usually went for the more traditional button-down, but this one had a zipper, intentionally left partially open and exposing his collarbones and the tattoo-wreathed mating mark that sat just above them, blue-highlighted black wrought iron curling and twisting around the scar Keith left there two years earlier. His flair for drama continued with tight black pants with lacing from hem to thigh up the right leg, more lacing on his left hip, and a leather buckled strap wrapping all the way around the same thigh. Rounding out his outfit were black combat-style boots like Hunk and Matt, with a pair of buckled straps, but it also revealed where the rattling had come from – several heavy pewter chains wrapping the back of each boot, just for that little extra bit of chaos.

Completing the circle was Keith. Narrow, grommeted leather bands that ran from hem to left shoulder framed the cutout and made up half of the wide v-neckline of his black light, woven cotton top. He’d picked it even knowing that its long sleeves were inevitably going to be pulled up under the heat of the stage lights, despite the lacing that ran 4 inches up from the bottom of each sleeve, and that the leather and pewter left shoulder weren’t going to make it any better. Inside the cutout was a layer of sheer black under distressed deep red lace, black lacing crossing over and connecting the bands. The lower neckline showed off his own mating mark, wrapped in a similar tattoo to his mate’s, the more lace-like wrought iron design highlighted in a deep rose-violet. Individually, most of the components of Keith’s black painted-on jeans were nothing out of the ordinary for him. Three buckled straps, one the the thigh, two around his calf, exposed side zipper with spiked studs and dangling zipper pull, and the fact that the pants themselves were shredded, not just ripped, were all things that could be seen on any number of his extensive collection. But these had, attached to a narrow belt threaded through a second set of beltloops that sat just below the usual ones, a pleated half-skirt that wrapped around his left hip and fell to the knee. Not much could top that, and he kept it simple with his choice of footwear. Black leather ankle boots, with two studded straps, studded heels, and a 3cm platform and its 8cm heel completed his outfit.

They all looked each other over appreciatively, some more so than others – Lance and Keith could not take their eyes off each other. The rest of Castle of Lions ignored them, while Allura had gone back to the interview schedule for the rest of the week.

Lance took a step into Keith’s personal space, something that didn’t exist when it came to his mate. “Fuck, you look good.”

“Yeah?” Keith answered, closing the distance, “So do you.”

“Oh my god,” Pidge groaned, no longer able to ignore them, “You’re practically eye-fucking each other. Save it for later. Way. Later.”

“Aw, you’re no fun, Pidgey,” Lance said, not looking away. He slipped his hands around Keith’s waist, nuzzling his omega’s mating mark, despite the scent blocker.

The purr that rolled out of Keith was a soft rumble, the interested and inviting hum that accompanied it anything but innocent. He slid his hands up his alpha’s chest and around his neck, and pulled Lance in for a kiss, the taste of a promise on his lips.

Shiro’s voice broke them apart. “Oh for fuck’s sake. Do I really have to pull you two apart like horny teenagers?”

“Nothing you haven’t threatened before,” Keith shot back although any heat in his voice was muffled by Lance’s neck.

“Alright, last shoot. And if we want to end on time, we need to go now,” Allura said then turned and left the room, not waiting.

Keith refused to let go, even when Pidge, Hunk, and Matt all followed Allura. He squawked indignantly at his brother’s arms around his torso, pulling him away from his mate. Shiro didn’t stop, holding Keith off the floor, leaving him to hang there, looking every bit like a disgruntled cat. Lance, of course, found this hilarious, but took pity on his mate, rescuing Keith from Shiro. Keith sent a pathetic scowl Shiro’s way, wrapping himself around Lance as they left to catch up with the others.

They missed the first few quiet notes filtering down the hall, nearly running into their bandmates who had stopped at the end of the corridor. But then they heard the next echoing chords, what they knew were two different guitars playing together in perfectly synchronized tandem, a keyboard setting the stage. The seven of them fanned out, Keith tucking himself against his mate, all watching the video playing of a concert from their last tour.

Lance was closer to the center of the stage and Keith, who held his own blood red and black guitar. As the music picked up, another stage light came on, illuminating more than just the matepair, Shiro emerging from the shadows. The other lights gradually came on, revealing Hunk, Matt, and Pidge. Keith and Lance alternated between playing together and separately. When asked later, they said that that part wasn’t the most difficult. The hardest part came when all six of them played in total synchronicity, each part keeping perfect time with the others. Keith picked up the melody, switching off with Lance not long after, leaving his alpha to finish the song.

The few seconds of silence between the end of one song and the beginning of another was filled with the roaring scream of the crowd, quieting when the first notes began. Keith’s smoky vocals quickly joined the instrumentals. Unlike the last song, he returned to his usual show behavior, wandering the stage, never staying in one place for long. The rest of Castle of Lions joined in for the backup vocals during the chorus, but the crowd exploded again at the beginning of the third verse when Matt stepped up to provide the growling lyrics. The song began its path to the end, Keith repeating the second half of the chorus, Lance layering over him as that section was split in half. The video stopped only seconds from the end when Adam and Curtis realized they were no longer alone in the studio.

#my writing #ao3 #keith kogane #lance mcclain #keith x lance #klance #omegaverse #alpha lance #alpha lance mcclain #omega keith #omega keith kogane #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender

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dragonofthestone · 2 years

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1. What does your muse smell like?

Hmm, not much honestly (unless you’ve got like an animals strength of smell then he’d have a strong reptilian smell) do to his time at the nest a faint odor of smoke sometimes lingers about - but it’s light. Wood and metal, scent of a guitar with a subtle underlying scent of blood.

2. What do your muse’s hands feel like?

The tops of his hands aren’t rough but the scales don’t exactly lend themselves to being the softest of textures- get rougher the closer he is to a shed as well. His palms are equally textured but the scales are smaller and finer like a reptiles belly combined with scars not from injury exactly but from the transmutation that made his hands the way they are.

3. What does your muse usually eat in a day?

Uh depends. Sometimes he just doesn’t eat.. at all, probably because he forgot or simply wasn’t hungry- his metabolism allowing to go a fair amount of time between eating and if he hasn’t been doing a lot of high energy things he’ll need to eat less. But given the circumstances it’s whatever he can find, while on the streets he went through garbage even resorted to giving into instinct and hunting down vermin

-Same goes for Wonderland.

While at the Devil’s Nest (before everything goes to hell) just eats whatever is around and available, if he’s got the energy might actually cook something up instead of grab n go.

4. Does your muse have a good singing voice

You won’t normally catch him singing but he’s not bad, at least in his native language- do not ask him to sing in Amestrian pft. But regardless he’ll sooner choose playing music over singing

5. Does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks?

Oh boy where to start.

How about the fact he just will try everything to avoid a problem he knows he should confront, while in someways a good quality but equally so a bad habit is putting others needs before his own. Timaeus will make sure everyone else is happy and comfortable and do everything to make it so before you’ll ever see him do something for himself.

He never really had any relationships outside of his parents and little brother so there’s a huge disconnect on what to do or how to form these bonds so he does the one and only thing that he knows which is being a people pleaser - even if it hurts him in the process.

Tries to handle things on his own and doesn’t want to drag others into his problems- even with just like simple problems and simply not asking for help.

Especially so now with his impaired vision he hates to and has a hard time admitting his struggles with certain tasks / how much it really does affect him.

As for nervous ticks: Chews his nails, if shedding will pick at the skin- and not just cause it’s itchy. Gets fidgety, will play with his tail, twist it in his hands, rubbing the back of his neck, bite/chew his lip, also much like some animals his tongue might start flicking out more. He’ll also tug at the top edge of his scarf (almost as if he’s trying to hide behind/in it)

6. What does your muse usually look like/wear?

Big ol coat, bit dirty and worn in spots but comfy, a scarf that wraps around covering the bottom half of his face, no descript casual shoes- when he does wear them.

7. Is your muse affectionate? How much? How so?

Timaues is a generally nice guy as it is but as you get to know him you’ll realize/ notice a difference between. Him being nice and him being affectionate.

If your expect him to say anything it’s highly unlikely- like 9/10 any words of affirmation are probably more being used because he’s a nice guy and cares but specifically meant like in an affectionate way (You’re one lucky person tho if he does)

Most commonly - if he’s actively taking his own time without being asked to just come spend time with you that’s him showing affection, playing some music / generally sharing any of his interests with the person. Making and / or sharing food is a big thing. And of course even acts of service often doing it without being asked in the first place - jumping in to help with a task or getting something he noticed was needed.

Now for the rare few if you are really lucky and you’ve really gained his trust and affection he might allow himself to cuddle up to you- and in general *physical contact*. It may seem small and insignificant but I’d say at present the biggest thing he could/would do is removing his gloves and allowing the person to hold his bare hand. Showing his most vulnerable side, a part of himself that he tries to keep hidden under any circumstance and allowing you to see it.

You’d be surprised how affectionate he can be - and how often even little things were done out of affection and nothing more

8. What position does your muse sleep in?

Sleep what’s that? because trauma and fear, He curls up tight, tail wrapping around with the tip of it usually at his nose- frequently you might catch him holding his tail as well.

9. Could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room?

Only if he’s walked in to or tripped over something. But seriously a normal person probably not especially when he walks around bare foot- what good is a predator if you can’t walk silent

Taken from @shiroi---kumo

#senses and other oddly specific questions #lab report || about tim #out of the nest; mun

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

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Spread ‘Em Wide {Clyde Logan x pregnant!Reader}

author’s notes: hellooo! happy memorial day everyone :) I’m so soft for Clyde and his pregnant girl...but I’m also horny. so, this is the resulting fic lol

**this is part of the Clyde & Pumpkin AU**

warnings: smut. fluff. literally just smut. error: plot not found. pregnancy/belly kink. some breeding kink (v light, though). use of a clit vibrator. a dash of dirty talk.

(possible) tw’s: pregnancy.

“Oh pumpkin, oh honey…” Clyde sighs, kissing your lips as his hands gently hold your hips, pulling you further onto his lap.

You whine softly into his mouth, already feeling your panties soaking. Pregnancy hormones were no joke, you’ve discovered, especially in the second trimester when you began showing.

Luckily, Clyde is always ready and willing to help you out with your sudden feelings of intense horniness.

“Ye look so pretty, so fuckin’ beautiful all swollen like this.” He moans, hips pressing up against you. “Love havin’ ya on top of me, pressin’ yer big belly on me, pumpkin.”

You bite your lip, looking down at your handsome husband with lust-blown eyes. “Yeah? You like seeing me pregnant?”

“Shit, oh god, y-yeah.”

His cock throbs beneath his jeans and he groans, nodding eagerly, beard gently scratching your neck as he kisses and nips your skin.

Your hands run through his hair as he continues his assault on your neck, covering seemingly every inch of it with kisses.

“Wanna put ‘nother one in ye, pumpkin, keep ya swollen ‘s long as I can.” His hips buck up gently as he nips your collarbones. “Love burying my cum in ya.”

You moan softly as he pulls your shirt up over your head, licking his lips when his eyes come in contact with your breasts. You’ve grown two sizes during the pregnancy, and you practically spill out of every bra you own now, even if you buy the correct size.

Clyde loves it, though, and his mouth instantly gets to work on the exposed mounds poking out the top of the cups. “Jesus, I love these tits so fuckin’ much, love seein ‘em spill out of yer bra. So big, so full...fuck.”

“P-Please.” You whine, starting to bounce lightly up and down on him. “I’m ready for you, wanna ride your big fat cock, Clyde.”

He growls, holding your hips still.

“So eager, hm? I think I wanna take ye from behind today, pumpkin, get real far inside ye so that I can put my cum in nice n’ deep.”

The prospect makes you shudder with excitement. “Where do y-you want me?”

His lips curl up into a small smirk and he leans forward, mouthing at your earlobe, breath hot.

“Go on upstairs n’ bend yourself over on the bed. Take these leggin’s off, hold onto the headboard, n’ spread yer legs nice n’ wide for me. Can ye do that, pumpkin?”

You quickly nod and get up off his lap, walking upstairs as fast as was possible with a pregnant belly. Your leggings are all but torn off, with a bit of maneuvering of course, before you take your position on the bed.

Clyde comes up a minute later, groaning softly as he sees you fully naked and bent over just as he’d asked. He quickly sheds his clothes and strokes himself as he walks up beside you, spreading your lips with his prosthetic, extra careful as your glistening folds are exposed.

He suddenly gets an idea, pulling away and walking over to the closet, pulling out one of your favorite clit vibrators. He puts a dot of lube on the toy before turning to the lowest setting, setting it gently on your sensitive nub.

The way you gasp and your hips instinctively roll down against it makes Clyde throb in his palm.

“Yeah, yer pussy loves this lil thing, huh pumpkin?”

You nod, biting your lip as your hips grind roughly and desperately down onto the small toy. You’re sweating with the effort, quickly reaching the edge of orgasm. He couldn’t believe how quickly you’d reached this point.

“G-Gon--gonna fucking c-cum, baby.”

When Clyde senses you’re about to orgasm, he clicks the button, turning it up a setting. Your eyes fly open and you cry out as an intense and sudden climax hits.

“Fuck, oh god, C-Clyde!”

The headboard bangs on the wall as your hips buck and squirm against the vibrations, enjoying the delicious pressure and subtle pain of overstimulation.

As soon as you’re finished, he turns off the toy and tosses it onto his pile of clothes, quickly mounting the mattress behind you. He rubs his cockhead through your slick, moaning softly when he feels how much has come along with your orgasm before lining up with your entrance.

“Ya ready, pumpkin?”

You nod, and he holds your hips as he pushes forward, sheathing himself fully inside you with a long, drawn out growl.

“Lord...j-jesus christ, Y/N.”

Your hands tighten against the beam of the headboard as your body begins rocking back and forth with each snap of your husband’s skilled hips.

“O-Oh, Clyde, baby…”

“Goddamn lil pussy’s gon’ be the d-death o’ me, I s-swear.” He mumbles, fucking you a little faster. “Yer fuckin’ soaked, pumpkin, so wet fer my c-cock.”

The whole bed squeaks and creaks against the hardwood as Clyde fucks you harder, the sound of skin slapping bouncing off the walls.

“Y-Yes, baby, yes!” You cry when he begins stroking that one special spot inside of you. “Right there, oh yeah honey, right f-fucking there!”

Clyde absolutely loves it when you make lots of noise for him, because he knows it’s all genuine. That’s one thing you told him right off the bat when you first met ten years ago, that you’d never, ever fake sexual noises or releases. And you never did.

His strokes speed up and he switches the position of his thrusts a bit so that he’s now coming up a bit underneath you. This allowed him to fully rub against your g-spot while also continuing the deep penetration that comes with the doggy-style position.

You’re seeing stars as you cum for the second time that evening, tears burning in your eyes as you cry out again with orgasm. Your walls grip him tightly and spasm around him, hips jerking randomly as you ride out your climax.

He cums not too long after you, good hand reaching up to grip your shoulder as he ruts his hips erratically, cock buried as deeply inside you as it can while rope after rope of thick seed spurts into your cunt.

“Fuck, p-pumpkin, take it all inside ye. That’s--ohhhh--that’s right, ma g-good girl, ma good lil w-wife.”

It’s already pouring out of you even before Clyde pulls out, dripping down your thighs and even some onto the bedding below. He always has really big loads, which at first he was embarrassed by, but you quickly showed him how much you loved it when he made a mess of you.

Both of you are catching your breath as Clyde slides out of you, then gets up to grab a warm washcloth. He wipes your folds gently, planting a soft kiss on your oversensitive clit before wiping up your thighs, nonchalantly tossing the used cloth aside before laying down. He has a hand on your back the entire time you gently lay down onto the bed, pulling you close once you’re down comfortably.

His textured fingertips lightly trace random patterns on your swollen stomach, laughing softly to himself when the baby starts kicking. You laugh, too, your fingers playing with his raven waves.

“She knows her daddy already.” You say with a smile.

Clyde beams with pride, scooting down so that his face can be nice and close to your stomach.

“Hey there, lil peach. Yer mom ‘n me are real excited to meet ya in a few months, an’ so are yer aunt and uncle. You’re already so loved, peach, yer not gon’ know what to do with all of it when ya finally get here.”

You both laugh softly, and your eyes fill up with tears as you rub the back of Clyde’s head. He kisses your bump, hand still rubbing it, before sliding back up to kiss you on the lips.

“Yer amazin’, ya know that? Givin’ me a daughter, carryin’ her fer me...I’ll never be able to repay ya in this lifetime, but I’ll do my damndest.” He smiles, kissing you again. “I love ya so damn much, Y/N, ma beautiful wife ‘n momma of m’ daughter.”

Tears are beginning to dribble down your cheeks, feeling so overwhelmed with love at this moment. You’re sure that you’ll never get used to Clyde’s love and appreciation for you, but you still treasure it very, very much.

You nuzzle your nose against his, unable to wipe the smile from your expression.

“I love you more, Clyde.”

#adamdriverwriter #adcu author #adcu writer #adam driver #adam driver character #adam driver smut #adam driver fluff #clyde logan #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #clyde logan x reader smut #clyde logan x you smut #tw: pregnancy #cw: pregnancy #clyde logan smut #clyde x reader #clyde logan fluff #clyde & pumpkin au

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Hallucination

Prompts: i love your fics insanity and real or not real!! can i request another fic where a side is struggling to tell what's real and what's a hallucination? can be in the same like universe (carrying on with one of the stories) or a completely different universe/person, idm - anon

*crashes into ur asks*

Hey if you’re still taking requests could you do just Janus comforting someone on the verge of a meltdown? Like lots of soft words and caring Janus? He’s my comfort character and I love him - anon

Thanks for the prompt!

Read on Ao3 Part 1 (ish)

Warnings: talk of hallucinations, uncertainty

Pairings: focus on creativitwins, intrulogical, dukeceit, background LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic, you decide

Word Count: 3864

Sometimes Thomas watches things and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

Sometimes Thomas decides to watch something late at night, when it’s dark outside, even though Virgil tells him it’s a bad idea, and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

Sometimes when Virgil has gone to his room and he’s fine, but Thomas’s mind can’t stop playing it over and over and over and over, he starts to expand on it and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

He can’t remember the name of the video. Something to do with being stuck on a misty island in the middle of nowhere with a monster and villagers that wait to sacrifice tourists to the monster to sate its hunger. Something about a daring rescue or an escape plan doomed to fail.

Something like…

“Do not go outside. Do not turn on the lights. Don’t make sounds.” The old man draws the curtains sharply across the window. “And whatever you do, do not look out the window.”

It’s late now. Patton’s asleep. Virgil’s in his room, probably asleep. The rest of them are still awake in the Imagination. It’s slumber party night for the twins, having created a big sprawling mansion in the Imagination for them to run around in. Logan is here, Janus is here, Roman is here.

Villagers?

They’re talking about what Thomas watched.

Logan straightens his legs out. “It’s not a bad practice, staying quiet.”

Janus rolls his eyes. “Come on, what is this, some haunted island?”

“You saw the people in the video.” Logan rests his weight on his elbows. “Something was amiss.”

“The only thing amiss was how awfully boring you lot are being.” Janus sighs and stands, stretching. “Well, I think a night of entertainment sounds wonderful.”

“The old man said to be quiet,” Roman points out. Wait, is the old man real?

“Do you know how prone to flights of fancy old people are?” Janus smiles. “Incredibly.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh don’t start that.” Janus rolls his eyes and his gaze lands on Remus. A smirk crawls across his face. “Well,” he drawls, sauntering across the room, “someone’s being awfully quiet.”

Remus just shrugs. Janus crouches down.

“What do you think about this monster,” he asks, tapping his fingers on his chin, “about the thing that sneaks around this island, peering into windows, through the keyholes of locked doors?”

“Janus,” Logan warns.

“What? I just want to hear what our other little scientist thinks about this.” He raises his eyebrows when Remus won’t hold his gaze. “No? Nothing? Need more data? Well, I’m sure you could ask around if you wanted to.”

“We’re not supposed to leave,” he says softly.

“I know you’re a goody-two-shoes, Remus, but you’ll never get anything done that way.”

“Leave him alone, Janus,” Roman says with a wink, “he’s just mad at how pathetic the monster design was.”

Long limbs. Dark eyes. Moved like shadow.

“And the Boy Scout, coming to the rescue.” Janus rolls his eyes as he stands. “Aren’t you tired of being so boring?”

Roman holds his hands up. “Hey, I’m all for exploring!”

Janus sighs. “Ever the dashing prince, are we?”

“Ask nicely and I may sweep you off your feet too.”

The banter continues. Logan just sighs and pulls out a journal, the pen emerging from god-knows-where as he writes. Remus swallows and glances toward the window.

In. Out. In. Out.

Roman and Janus are still tossing barbs and jests back and forth. Remus cannot help but notice how loud they are being.

The old man said to be quiet.

Logan looks up when he begins to crouch down and shuffle behind the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Changing.” He gives a half-hearted smile. “Texture spoons ran out.”

He nods and goes back to his writing. Remus glances at the nightstand. Only 8:00. The conversation gets progressively louder. Logan joins in eventually, rolling his eyes at Roman’s increasingly elaborate proposals to bring in jukeboxes, disco lights, and speakers.

“Let’s think about this logically. If the ghosts or whatever the hell the monster is sensitive to sound, why not pump everything to like, 300 decibels and blast their eardrums out?”

“Or it could be that they just hear things like we hear things,” Logan remarks.

“Mm.”

“Why do I have to be quiet?” Roman spreads his arms. “I should not have to deal with that!”

“Actually, you know what,” Janus says gleefully, “I agree. We shouldn’t have to be quiet. If this place doesn’t have adequate monster protection, that’s on them.”

This place…didn’t they make it safe? Roman said they made it safe. Is it not safe anymore? Are the shadows—is the monster here?

“Always the entitlement,” Logan sighs, seemingly resigning himself to the voice of reason as he settles his journal to the side, “assuming that everyone should cater to your needs.”

“Oh come on, Logan. You have to admit that having a hotel that isn’t secure makes little to no sense.”

Hotel? Isn’t this still the mansion?

The low buzz of an LED sign comes from outside. Remus blinks. Has…has that always been there?

“Not respecting the rules of wherever you choose to go makes little to no sense.”

“That’s gotta hold up in court though.” Roman glances at Janus. “You get me?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Janus says, drawing himself up like a lawyer, “I would like to sue on the grounds that my intestines were devoured horrifically by a terrifying, savage beast that the hotel owners neglected to inform me of. How am I standing here, you ask, if my intestines have been devoured? Simple. Spite.”

Roman’s off, cackling to his heart’s content. Logan bites back his own smile.

“And how, may I ask, is this not the fault of yourself?”

“May I say, Your Honor, that victim-blaming is not cute—“

“Here here,” comes Roman’s voice.

“—and also, the information about aforementioned monster came from someone who was not an employee of the hotel,” Janus finishes grandly, “therefore they can suck my—“

Logan hits his hand against the nightstand, still fighting down laughter. “Defendant is charged with contempt of court.”

“Do not pass go,” Roman chortles as Janus swoons dramatically, “do not collect 200 dollars.”

“Remus,” Janus cries out, “avenge me!”

Remus does not respond. He is too busy trying to figure out when the mansion became the hotel.

“Remus,” Janus cries again, crawling dramatically across the floor, “save me from this indignity.”

“No, thank you,” he mumbles instead.

Janus huffs, pushing himself off the floor. “Then by all means, please tell us your ingenious solution to this monster problem that we find ourselves in.”

Remus looks up, his face carefully blank except for a small smile. “I’m going to hide underneath the sheets,” he says in a soft, small voice, “because everybody knows monsters can’t get you when you’re under your sheets.”

“That is adorable,” Roman chuckles.

Janus’s eyebrows raise slowly until another fiendish smirk crawls across his face. “Are you scared?”

“Yes.”

“Aww,” he coos, “hiding under the sheets to get away from the monsters, how adorable.”

Remus doesn’t respond.

“If only the others could see you now,” Janus crows, “they’d know how intimidating you really are.”

Logan takes his glasses off, polishing them with the handkerchief from his pocket. “As if you’re any better, crying over a torn seam in your cape.”

“That bastard took two weeks to get right!”

Remus ignores them once more, glancing at the clock. 9:45. An acceptable time to try and go to sleep. He moves slowly and quietly as he tries to get into the bed. The monster could be here. The banter continues behind him as he pulls the sheets tight around him.

He does not see Logan glance over. He does not see that Logan frowns and glances at the clock, thinking perhaps Remus is more tired than he appeared, but…still. He does not see Logan look back at the others still talking, they’re probably not going to go to sleep for a long while.

He does not see Logan look over at him as Janus leaves the room, claiming he’s going to go find somewhere more fun to sleep. He does not see Logan frown, looking to see Remus still on his side, huddled under the sheets. He does not see when Logan starts to count.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

He does not see Logan beckon Roman closer.

He does not see Roman frown as he comes closer, sighing at the notebook in Logan’s hands.

“Logan, why the hell can’t you take a break for…” he trails off when he sees Logan’s face. “What?”

“Perhaps I like to keep myself occupied,” Logan says smoothly, even as he nods insistently to the notebook, “even in times where the circumstances might be less than ideal.”

Roman raises an eyebrow. Subtle, Logan.

“You are chronically incapable of taking a break, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Do you know any words other than ‘perhaps?’”

“Perhaps.”

Roman hides a smirk as squints at the text.

I think Remus is actually afraid. Don’t tease. - L

Remus does hear Roman exhale sharply. He does not see him glance up at the bed before he looks back at Logan and nods.

“Well,” he sighs, stretching and yawning exaggeratedly, “on that note, it’s probably a good idea to try and sleep.”

Logan snorts. “And here I thought you were supposed to be an actor.”

He swats at him halfheartedly as he starts getting ready to go to sleep. What that means is just a matter of snapping his fingers to change out of the prince costume. He packs his other clothes away and crosses the room, keeping his footsteps loud but not too loud.

Now that he’s paying attention, he can see how scared poor Remus is. He’s frozen under the sheets, barely moving. As Logan starts talking quietly to himself, he sets his bag down next to Remus’s and sighs, moving around to make a bit more noise.

Remus still doesn’t move.

When he’s made all the noise he can reasonably make, he walks a little closer to the bed and reaches to fix the curtains, unable to stop the soft noise when his shadow falls over the bed.

“Hey, Re,” he whispers, leaning down and brushing the sheet a little further from his face, “it’s just me, it’s just Roman. Can you open your eyes for me?”

It takes him a moment but his eyes do open. He smiles down at him and cups his face for a moment.

“Hey, there, Re,” he murmurs, “can I come join you?”

He barely nods.

“Thank you.” He frowns when he doesn’t move over. “You gonna let me in?”

He can tell by the way his eyes glass over that’s not a good idea unless he can convince him otherwise.

“Come on,” he whispers again, “scoot to the other side for me.” He nudges his shoulder gently. “Logan misses you.”

Loren doesn’t let his mumuring falter but he does reach across the small space between their beds to lightly pat the side closest to him.

Remus moves, as skittish as the new dragon pups, clutching the blanket tightly to his chest, his pillow gripped in his other hand. Roman swiftly takes the warm spot he’s vacated, wincing in sympathy as he shivers on the cold sheets.

“Thank you,” he sighs, making a show of getting comfortable before reaching out for him, smacking his lips together in sleep, “now come here.”

At his quickly stifled questioning noise, he drops the act and opens his arm wide.

“It’s okay, Re,” he whispers, far too quiet for Logan to hear, “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay.”

He stares at him a moment longer before he realizes that shit, he’s not going to be able to move on his own right now.

“Can I come get you, Re?” Roman smiles when he gives him another one of those jerky nods. “Thank you, I’m gonna pull you over to me, okay?”

He takes him into his arms slowly and carefully, wrapping him up in the sheets until just the very tops of their heads poke out. He relaxes just enough so that he can maneuver him to where he likes, but he’s far from the sleepy pile he expected.

“Hey,” he whispers, tucking his hair behind his ear, “you want to stay here with me, Re?”

He blinks sluggishly. Roman bites back a curse and leans down to rub his nose against his.

“Hey, hey, Re, you just focus on me, okay? Stay with me here—“ he tightens his grip— “right here…I’ve got you.”

He frowns when he makes a small little noise that sounds like it could be his name.

“Yeah, Re? You calling for me?”

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He kisses Remus’s forehead.

“Nonverbal,” he whispers, “or just scared? Or both?”

A moment passes.

“Both it is then.” Roman tucks his head under his chin. “Why don’t you go ahead and close your eyes, Re, I’m right here.”

They stay there, wrapped in the blankets, Remus warm and snug up against Roman’s chest. He plays with his hair, one of his legs slung over his to hold him close, working to lull him out of his frozen state. After a while, Logan stands from the other side of the room and pats Roman’s shoulder.

“Your turn, Roman.”

Roman rolls over. “Huh?”

Logan nods his head toward the bathroom. “Shower.”

Roman sighs dramatically and presses another kiss to Remus’s forehead, leaving his brother dazed, blinking up at Logan. Logan watches Roman leave before he turns his gaze downwards. Remus tries to pretend the shiver that goes through him at the way Logan softens his gaze is just the cold.

“Remus,” he calls softly, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Remus, may I join you?”

A pause.

“Tap the bed twice if yes, once if no.”

A pause, then Remus hesitantly reaches out to make two little taps.

“Thank you.”

He slides smoothly into the bed, reaching out to carefully slip an arm under his and pull him off of the sweat-soaked sheets—when did that happen?—and into his arms. Remus moves pliantly, tucking his chin into the space left between his chin and the pillow.

“Hey,” he whispers, gentling his voice as he tucks his head closer to Remus’s, “hey.”

Logan is warm. Is Logan—Logan said it made sense to be quiet. Logan knows. Logan understands. Logan always understands.

“What’s the matter,” Logan calls gently, “can I help?”

Remus swallows. “Monster.”

“Are you afraid of the monster, Remus?”

Remus nods. “Black eyes. Shadow. Kill you and Roman and Janus and then go find Patton and Virgil and Thomas. Bad.”

“The monster isn’t real, Remus,” Logan says softly, running his hand through his hair, “it doesn’t exist.”

Remus shakes his head. “We’re in the hotel on the island. It’s real. Roman left and the monster will kill him.”

“Roman is just in the bathroom,” Logan corrects, moving his head to indicate the running water sound, “he’s alright. We’re not in a hotel, we’re in the mansion you two created.”

“But the LED sign is buzzing outside.”

“Would you like to look and see?”

“No!” Remus wraps his arms tightly around Logan’s waist. “We’re not supposed to look out the window, the old man said not to.”

“The old man isn’t here,” Logan says patiently, “I’m here. I have you. I’ll keep you safe.”

“He said—he—he’s not real?”

“No, Remus, he’s not real.” Logan gives him a gentle squeeze. “This is real. This is real, Remus, I’ve got you.”

“You’re real.”

“I am.”

“You said it’s safe to look out the window?”

“It is.” Logan squeezes again. “Would you like me to show you?”

Remus nods. Logan leans up and pulls back the curtain, peeking outside. There’s no bright red light from the hotel LED sign. Just soft moonlight.

“There’s no sign, Remus,” he murmurs, “you’re not in a hotel.”

Oh.

“The scar,” he blurts, his hand flying to his chest, “from the stab, what if it’s already got us?”

“I don’t have a scar,” Logan says, lying back down and taking Remus’s hand, “here…feel.”

Logan presses his palm to his bare chest, pulling his shirt out of the way so Remus can see. There’s no scar.

“You don’t have one either…may I?”

When he presses his palms against Remus’s chest, there’s no scar.

“We’re…not there?”

“No, Remus, we’re not there,” Logan says gently, “we’re here, in the mansion, safe, there’s no monster.”

The water stops. A moment later and Roman emerges, tossing a towel over his shoulder. He sees the two of them in the bed and pouts.

“You stole my spot!”

“I had Remus to comfort,” Logan says smoothly, waving him over, “though you are welcome to help.”

Roman ruffles Remus’s hair. Remus leans into it.

“Ro, are you real?”

“Yes, of course, I’m real, Re, what…” Roman trails off and his eyes go wide. “Oh, Re, did we—did I push you into hallucination territory? I’m so sorry, yes, we’re real, we’re here, we’re in our mansion, we’re safe, Re.”

“Safe?”

“Yeah, Re,” Roman murmurs, getting in to cuddle his brother properly, “we’re safe.”

“Real?”

“This is real.”

Remus buries his nose in his brother’s real neck and holds him close. Logan stays by his side, stroking his hair and murmuring that Remus is here, they’re real, they’re safe.

After a moment, Remus takes a deep breath and pulls apart.

“You know the rules, Ro-Bro.”

Roman grimaces, his head dropping to rest against Remus’s sternum for a moment before he nods. Logan looks back and forth between the two of them.

“What are the rules?”

“When Remus gets pushed into hallucination territory,” Roman says softly, “he sleeps alone.”

Logan frowns. “But surely it would help to have us reassure you and help ground you?”

“Wouldn’t help for the intrusive thoughts and hallucinations to include you too.”

Logan winces. “I suppose not, but—“

“Lolo we’ve tried,” Remus mumbles, “we—this works. It sucks and I hate it and so does Ro but this is what works.”

“I trust you,” Logan says, squeezing Remus’s hand, “and I trust you to know what works for you.”

“We’re just overprotective.”

“I’ll say.”

Roman gives him one last hug before standing and pulling Logan to his feet. “You know we’ll come as soon as you call.”

Remus nods. “I know.”

The room feels empty when they leave.

The night passes.

During the witching hour, he startles awake.

The sheets are soaked in sweat directly under him. His eyes are wide. His breathing is too controlled.

The monster is not here but the shadows are.

Somewhere in this house, he knows, something is here. He can hear the voice in the movement of the curtains, hear the step in the way the floorboard settles. Hands never meet his tender flesh, a mouth never bites his fragile throat, but something is here.

Step. Step. Step.

The fear clouds his eyes as it drips into his ears. The light flickers. Something brushes a knuckle up and over his cheek. Something pauses outside his doorway.

Through the depths of the fear filling his ears, something knocks.

The chill rips its fingers out of his mouth and smears them over his throat. Something knocks again. There’s something outside. There’s something outside.

“Sweetie,” he calls as he opens the door, “Sweetie?”

Janus steps inside.

“You’re awake,” he says, shutting the door and sitting on the edge of the bed, “it’s quite late.”

“I know,” Remus says as he sits up, wary, “sorry.”

Janus hums, reaching out to idly brush his hair off his forehead. The chill curls and lingers around his fingers, the shadows diving to hide in the lea of him, greedily drinking the fear from Remus. Janus goes to pull his hand away only to notice the prickles on Remus’s skin.

“Are you cold, my dear?” He frowns and lightly dusts his forearm with his fingertips. “You look it.”

Remus shakes his head. Janus raises an eyebrow, pressing his thumb hard against his arm to reveal a white imprint. It takes long seconds for the chill to let blood color the flesh again.

“Let’s not lie,” he murmurs, his gaze flicking back up to catch Remus’s, “shall we, sweetie?”

Janus reaches up to trace the air around the curve of his cheek, one finger lightly tracing his jaw. The electrifying tingle clenches his hands in the sheet. He tilts his head and hums softly.

“What’s keeping you awake, sweetie?”

The chill snarls, refusing to let go of his throat.

“You can speak,” he encourages, lightly knuckling the underside of his chin, “it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head a little.

“None of that, now, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He closes his hand around his. “To be afraid is nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie, you know that.”

The shadows move slowly, wary of him, eager to taste his fear. The chill huddles around it, icing it in place, refusing to let him breathe without reaching its fingers into the pit of his throat.

“Oh, my dear,” Janus murmurs, running his fingers along the side of Remus’s neck, “can I do anything for you?”

He shakes his head quickly. Too quickly.

“Sweetie…”

“You’ll be annoyed.”

“I’m concerned,” Janus corrects gently, “that’s all.”

Remus risks a glance at the shadows.

“And you know, Remus,” he continues, lifting his hand to press a chaste kiss to its back, “taking care of you is never annoying.”

A different type of fear tingles along his fingers as they brush the curve of his jaw. This one reaches deep, deep along his fingers, up his arm, down to the curve of his shoulder, wriggling in between the cold knots to pulse against him. The shadows bloom in the corners of the room, shying away from the light flickering over his face, his shirt, his hand.

Through the mouthful of fear, his tongue wets his lips. “You’ll find it stupid.”

“Never, sweetie.”

“The dark,” blurts shamefully from his mouth, “I’m afraid of the dark.”

“The dark, sweetie? Is this about…”

“I got pushed into hallucination territory earlier.”

Janus makes a noise of sympathy, murmuring an apology for teasing earlier.

“I can’t see anything but the shadows,” Remus whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, “and the noises, and how empty it is because I know it’s not empty.”

“And what helps this go away,” he asks, still cupping his hand, “what makes the shadows leave my sweetie alone?”

“S-stay? Please, with—with me?” Remus’s breath starts to catch again. “Don’t—don’t let them hurt me.”

“Oh, sweetie, of course,” Janus murmurs, “of course I’ll stay.”

The poor thing chokes out a sob. Janus reaches forward to lie him back down when his hand brushes the edge of the sheet. He frowns. Picking the sheet up between two fingers, he winces. He can feel his fingertips rubbing together, it’s barely warm enough.

Remus’s breath still hasn’t caught when he returns with a thick quilt, spreading it over him to banish the last of the chill.

“Hush now,” he soothes, smoothing the corners of the quilt, “hush, sweetie, it’s over, you did so well, shh…”

Janus climbs into bed, pulling the shaking Remus to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly, tightly around the poor thing as he cradles Remus protectively.

“Come here, my sweet,” he whispers, “come here, now, shh, shh, you’re alright now, sweetie, shh, shh…”

His cries soften, gentled into mewls against his chest as he warms him against his skin. The poor thing is still clenched tighter than a fist. He croons, taking his wrist in his hand and pulling him flush against him.

“It’s alright, sweetie, you did so well, it’s gone now, you did it, there you are, here you are, right here, sweetie.”

The poor thing whines.

“Oh, sweet one, shh, shh, shh, my dear, you’re alright…” He makes a noise of sympathy when he doesn’t stop. “What’s the matter, sweetie, tell me, say it, come now…”

He brings his hand up to stroke gently under Remus’s chin.

“Say it, sweetie, tell me what’s troubling you so, let me help, I’m right here, I’m right here.”

“The shadows,” he whimpers, “the shadows, I can—I can hear them, they—they’re everywhere—I—they’re looking at me, they’re touching me, I can—I can feel them—I—“

“I’ve got you, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, pressing a kiss to Remus’s cheek, “I’m right here, nothing can touch you, here—“

He pulls the blankets up and over their heads, creating a little bubble of intimacy in the dark room.

“I’m here, sweetie, it’s just me, I won’t hurt you, you know I won’t. Shh, shh, hush now, sweetie, it’s alright.”

They stay like that for a little longer, Remus sobbing out the rest of the fear as Janus hushes him softly, pulls him close, soothes away the last of the tremors with gentle hands and tender words.

After a while, Remus pulls away.

“…thanks, Jan.”

“I promised,” Janus murmurs, “I promised that I’d do it when you need me to.”

“I know.” Remus sniffles. “I just…wish you didn’t have to.”

“Don’t ever feel bad about needing something,” Janus chides softly, chucking him lightly under the chin, “especially not when you really need it.”

“Already sent Lolo and Ro away for hallucinations, you—“

“They’re fine, sweetie, a little worried, but they came and told me what was happening.” Janus kisses his forehead again. “They’re not angry, they don’t begrudge you needing things, and they’ll be here for you. They always are.”

“I know.”

Exhaustion begins to seep into his eyes. He blinks sluggishly.

“This is real, right?”

Janus gives him a squeeze. “It’s real.”

“Can I sleep now?”

“Oh, of course, sweetie,” he murmurs, leaning back up to rest his head on the pillow next to Remus, “you go right ahead. I’ll be right here. I’ll keep the shadows away.”

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steviespanties · 4 years

Note

Since Steve’s parents are out of town so often, he and Billy have a habit of hooking up at Steve’s place. Steve’s room is nice and all, but Billy has a thing for fucking Steve in his mom’s bed;; ((HI I LOVE YOUR ACCOUNT AND YOUR STORIES THANK YOU FOR CREATING SUCH MASTERPIECES💖💖))

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH AND ALSO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO ANSWER THIS!!! (This sent me down an interior decorating rabbit hole trying to figure out what Steve’s mom’s bed- and then her own room might look like😅😂 Please imagine a layout similar to this, but with another window on the other side of the bed for more light. The ‘sofa’ and bed look a lot more like this, but the colors and style are more similar to this and this room.) 2.2k words, rated E. Steve POV, some manhandling, some frottage, some rimming and dirty talk. Anal sex. Ya know. My usual.

Steve’s parents have a big enough house (and are rich enough) that his mom has an entire bedroom for herself. She calls it her boudoir, because it’s where her walk-in closet is and where she keeps all her fancy makeup, lesser used jewelry and perfumes. There’s a massive four-poster bed with floor-length drapes matching the curtains, a chaise lounge, a vanity, all in creamy white and bathed in warm lamp light.

Before he gets together with Billy, Steve doesn’t even think about it’s existence. It’s just another empty room, after all. The most he sees of the house are the entrance, kitchen, living room and the walk upstairs to his bedroom with his own bathroom. Hell, sometimes it slips his mind that he technically lives in what counts in Hawkins as a mansion.

Billy, however, becomes obsessed with the ‘boudoir’ in particular.

The first time he's supposed to really stay over, not just crash in Steve’s room and fuck him into his bed at 3am, he steps through the front entrance, whistles after a survey of the hallway and goes “Aren’t you gonna show me around?”

“Yeah, sure. Just take a pair of house shoes from over there.” Steve gestures towards the shoe rack in question and Billy’s expression goes from amused to disbelieving.

“Seriously?”

Steve glares at him. “Yeah. Seriously. My parents put in new flooring over the summer and now everything has to look pristine for the two times a year they have visitors over.”

It's such an unnecessary, stupid rule to enforce all of a sudden when Steve has rarely worn shoes around the house anyways.

He’s barefoot when it’s warm outside and leaves his shoes by the front door to change into thick wool socks during the cold months. And somehow, his parents still have found a new way to make him feel like he’s walking on eggshells in his own home.

Still, he watches Billy sullenly take off his shoes with growing amusement that gradually lightens the bad mood Steve’s gotten into just thinking about it. He figures he can give Billy a quick tour of the house and then order pizza. Watch a movie, fuck in an actual bed instead of getting each other off in the cramped backseats of their cars.

What happens instead is that Billy spends a ridiculous amount of time dragging Steve through his own home. He looks into guest rooms. Shoves his nose into cabinets. Looks out of windows like he’s staking out the neighborhood. (Woods. The neighborhood is mostly woods.)

“What are you, a spy?” Steve jokingly asks when Billy lifts up a painting to peek behind, like he’s looking for a safe. Billy scoffs, all mock-offended. But Steve can see a hint of a blush form on his cheeks. Gotcha. It’s kinda sweet how curious he is about the place, even if his main complaint is that it “feels like a show house.” Steve doesn’t have the heart to point out that he’s not too far off.

It’s when they step into his mom’s room that a predatory glint enters Billy’s eyes. “Ohh, is this where Mama Harrington sleeps?”

“Yeah. Sometimes. She wanted a room to get ready ‘in peace’. I’m pretty sure she just wants to drink prosecco in peace.” He watches Billy’s fingers trail over the fabric of one of the creamy white curtains framing the window. They part and his rings glint in the sunlight he’s suddenly bathed in. When he turns back around his hair is lit up gold and frames his head like a halo. Steve licks his lips. The fun thing about dating Billy is that he not only matches Steve in terms of libido, but seems to have a sixth sense for the moment Steve’s thoughts get distracted by his gorgeous everything.

Or maybe Steve just isn’t very subtle.

That glint in Billy’s eyes turns into hungry laser focus. Sets him into motion until he’s all pressed against Steve, a hot line of unrelenting muscle pushing him closer to the bed until they tip over and onto the mattress. Half hidden by more curtains hanging from the canopy. Sunlight follows them.

White teeth flash in an easy grin, quick and sweet, and then Billy’s lips are on Steve’s. His body weight pushes Steve into the creamy white bed cover and the air out of his lungs in a huffed laugh. Underneath him the texture of the blanket- distinct raised ribbing- digs into his skin. Billy’s hands dig into his hair.

The slick heat of Billy’s mouth and his thigh shoved between Steve’s legs is intoxicating. Makes it impossible to form a coherent thought when his focus narrows down on Billy on top of him, curls just long enough to fall down and tickle Steve’s face. He makes the most delicious sound when Steve grabs his ass and pulls him closer, till their hips are lined up just right. Steve pulls. Billy pushes. Like a conversation in a language purely made of heat and pressure, hitching breaths and choked moans. Against his own growing erection, painfully trapped in his jeans, he can feel Billy fill out as well. The pleasure is maddening. Enough to make Steve feel a burst of wetness pulse from his dick into his underwear. Enough to make him roll his hips up, searching for a better angle.

“Billy,” he sighs, not sure what he wanted to say afterwards. Just enjoys saying his name.

“We’re wearing too many clothes,” Billy complains in response, like he picked up whatever thought Steve dropped in the minuscule space between them. They break out into a familiar flurry of limbs and discarded clothes. A condom packet and a small bottle of lube make it from Billy’s discarded jacket onto the comforter next to Steve’s head. He snorts.

“You sure you weren’t a boy scout at some point? Feels like you’re always prepared to get your dick wet.”

Billy rolls his eyes, fond smile belying his annoyance. “Shut up. Turn around.” His voice has taken on that deep, rough tone indicating how much he’s turned on. Steve leans back instead, takes his dick in hand. Enjoys the rough drag of his dry palm when he drags it up in a loose grip. Just enough to tease. Billy raptly follows the movement. “Maybe I will if you ask me nicely.”

Oh, he loves this game. Put up a token bit of protest when Billy gets bossy, until he gets impatient and starts dragging Steve around until he’s nothing but putty underneath his hands.

“Show me your pretty hole, babe. I won’t ask again.”

Steve’s dick pulses in his hand. He watches Billy with half-lidded eyes. The way his muscles shift, getting ready to move. Hungry and powerful, like a big wildcat.

In the next second, he’s on Steve. Makes him gasp out an involuntary yelp when he easily flips him and drags him up by his hips. Until he’s on his knees, face buried in the bed cover and hot breath suddenly ghosts over his hole. There’s barely enough time to reorient himself before the scratch of Billy’s mustache and the slick warmth of his tongue press into his crack.

“Ah, fuck yes.”

He’s never done this before Billy. Not with any of the girls he fucked or dated. Not with Tommy, who he’s traded sloppy, shameful handjobs and blowjobs with. He doesn’t think he can ever get enough of feeling Billy’s tongue on his rim, swirling around until he’s dripping with saliva. Pushing inside where he’s sensitive, pressure and stretch of his hole making him squirm and push his hips back immediately.

It’s almost embarrassing how greedy he is for Billy’s mouth on him. His lips wrapped around his dick. His tongue shoved deep into his hole, held in place by those warm hands on his asscheeks. Holding him open so Billy can get even deeper, making him moan and drool into the blanket beneath him. It’s like a pulse, curls into him till his dick pushes out another spurt of precome and he can feel himself twitch, heavy and aching between his legs.

A slicked up finger joins Billy’s tongue. Makes the stretch just a bit more intense, but still so, so good. Billy only comes up for air when he adds a second finger. Steve can feel him rest his cheek on his ass, probably watching the movement of his fingers up close. He seems to have a thing for the sight of Steve’s rim stretched, his hole filled up and glistening.

“Gonna make you a complete mess in your mom’s bed,” Billy huffs into his skin. “Gonna make you cry and cream yourself all over her sheets.” He thrusts deeper and stretches his fingers until they tug at Steve’s hole and he groans with the ache. “Better get going then,” he tries to taunt. It falls flat with all that desperation laced through his words. The thing is, provoking Billy only gets you so far. Steve can tease him into impatience, but once he’s fully grasped control, he revels in it. Basks in Steve’s frenzied, futile attempts at irritating him. Like he’s had his chance, but the game is already won.

Steve doesn’t mind losing that much anyways.

“Just you wait,” Billy says fondly.

All Steve can focus on for a while is that glorious, slick movement of Billy’s fingers. The way he pushes in and out of him, stretches his rim and his insides, rubs over that spot inside of him that makes him frantically claw at the textured bed cover underneath him. Just long enough to make him whine and push back, pulse around a third finger that stretches him even wider.

At some point, when he’s reduced to a sweat-slick line of tightly wound pleasure, he finds himself empty. Barely registers the sound of a ripped open condom wrapper. Warm, humid breath over his spine that wanders up up up until there’s lips and teeth on his shoulder and Billy’s cock slowly pushes inside.

There’s a growing spot of drool-wet fabric his face presses into that swallows some of his moans. When Billy moves, satisfied sighs and barely coherent praises tumbling from his lips, Steve grasps the bed cover tight.

Billy’s hips find a rolling, unrelenting rhythm. The drag of his cock is a drug Steve can’t get enough of. Dreams about, just as much as he dreams about the tight heat of Billy around his dick.

He wishes he could turn around and admire Billy’s flushed face. Hold him between his spread legs. Get lost in his eyes and dizzy from his freckles. But Billy’s weight on his back and his mouth sucking hickeys into the back of his neck isn’t bad either. He tries to hold himself up, tries to concentrate on carrying that weight on his back, but with each thrust inside it’s like his knees spread wider and his elbows sink down until he’s pressed flat onto the bed. And then his dick makes contact with the bed cover and gets pushed right into it right along Billy’s thrusts.

“Ah!” The moan is embarrassingly loud. Louder than any other noise he’s made so far. Of course, Billy picks up on it.

“You gonna be a good boy and blow your load all over your mommy’s sheets?”

“Shut- shut up, fuck.” Billy just laughs, voice shot to hell.

Even if Steve wanted to, he can’t escape that mouthwatering pleasure the additional drag of rough fabric against his dick provides. Because even if he wanted to try, he can’t pull away from Billy’s weight on top of him. His heavy, thick cock inside of him that holds him open and fills him up.

He comes with a sob. Pushes his face harder into wet fabric. Pushes his dick through his own mess. Pushes his hips back to meet Billy’s thrusts, even when it becomes just a bit too much.

Billy rests his entire weight on him when he comes with a deeply satisfied groan. Through their aftershocks, he buries his face in Steve’s hair and they rest in companionable silence.

It’s not the last time they end up fucking on that bed, no matter how many times Steve complains about the laundry with flushed cheeks.

...

Steve isn’t enough of an idiot to not understand that Billy likes to fuck him in his mom’s bed because he likes the conquest of a room that’s ‘forbidden’. He’s the same at parties, likes to sneak into rooms he’s not supposed to be in. Likes the thrill of doing something nasty with Steve in a place his mom will walk into and never even suspect what’s happened.

And Billy? Billy doesn’t want to admit it, especially not to Steve’s face, but... the way Steve’s hair looks against the creamy-white sheets in his mom’s bedroom? The soft yellow glow of light, the blush that spreads from his cheeks down to his neck, to his chest faster than it does anywhere else- it’s addictive.

The best part, the one they both like a little too much is what happens afterwards. When the raised ribbing of the bed cover has left indents on Steve’s face where it’s been pressed down. On his arms and knees. On his back, where only Billy can see and trace it for the rest of the night, reverent and sweet.

#asks #OHH my god I'M SO FLATTERED THANK YOU SO MUCH😭💖💖💖#I hope you're having a LOVELY day and you like this!!#saberghatz #(also i'm so sorry this took ages to answer bc i took so long to write this?? jfc!!!)#harringrove #harringrove fic

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itsthemoofacewriting · 3 years

Text

It’s heaven in your arms - Chapter 2

Welcome back!

You guys, I was so nervous posting this and everyone’s been so lovely ;_;

I don’t know if anyone picked up on it, but my title has two meanings. One, because it’s a bed sharing trope and two, because Ace died in Luffy’s arms. I’m a monster, I know.

Summary: It may have been two years since Ace’s death but, for Luffy, sometimes it still felt like just yesterday. Or, sometimes, something beautiful can blossom from a place of hurt. Raining: K+

You can also find this on AO3 and FFN.

Enjoy!

It was supposed to be a one-time thing.

But when he’d shot her those excited puppy eyes and asked if they could have another sleepover, she’d found herself caving. Even more so when the thought cropped into her head that maybe he was asking because he was struggling. She’d rather know where he was if he was going to be upset than worry about him being all alone out on the deck.

She’d raised an eyebrow when Luffy had arrived with Zoro in tow but that had been quickly snuffed out when he’d smugly said, “A one-time thing, huh?”

From there on the second time turned into a third time and then a fourth and now she’d lost count of how many times this had happened. It wasn’t every night, mind you, as they all had watches and if one of them couldn’t be there, then it was an unspoken rule that the others would sleep separately. Although she couldn’t be sure that Luffy and Zoro didn’t in the men’s room, but she’d seen those bunks and they’d never mentioned it.

The point was, it’d turned into a routine that no one blinked an eye at, and she’d even got them bathing regularly because there was no way either of them were getting in without being clean.

She’d also never slept better than she did when she had those two in her bed, piled in whichever way they found themselves throughout the night. Luffy liked to be the big spoon, which was something she felt like she shouldn’t know but did, he almost insisted on it even as he climbed in first and took an end. It was a funny sight when Zoro ended up in the middle, his hulking figure being cuddled up to by Luffy. The person on the other end was hardly left out when he stretched his arm to curl around them. It was like he was trying to keep them all close.

When they weren’t being spooned by Luffy, another favourite was when Zoro would lay on his back, an arm thrown out either side and she’d naturally gravitate towards him until her head was on his chest or tucked into his shoulder. His beefiness made a nice pillow, something Luffy must have agreed with as he normally mirrored her on the other side.

She’d stopped being flustered by all of this long ago, it was easy to get over when they did it all the time and neither said anything about it.

She did, however, question whether it was right that she had a preferred sleeping preference with the both of them and that she was ranking them.

Nami was sunning herself on her lounger, it was a pleasant day with the sun out, the ocean still and the background noise of Luffy, Chopper and Usopp running around in the distance. Footsteps approaching caught her attention only to see Robin making her way over, two drinks in hand that must have come from Sanji and a third arm holding a book. She greeted the other woman silently, turning her head to smile at her before facing the sun again and closing her eyes to enjoy the warmth on her skin.

There truly was no better way to spend the day-

“My invitation to your little sleepovers must have got lost in the mail.”

Nami was ripped from her peace as she gaped, feeling heat flush through her body at this finally being acknowledged. She shot a nervous look at Zoro who was sleeping only a few feet away from her sun lounger against the railing. Just because he looked like he was asleep, didn’t mean he was, but when he didn’t move or twitch or give any indication that he might be awake, she let herself relax slightly.

And focus back on the woman next to her still staring her down for an answer. Even though it was a statement, she felt the need to explain herself.

“No- Robin! It isn’t… like that?” She could almost feel the ghost of Luffy’s breath against her skin and Zoro’s arm wrapped around waist, an unwelcome reminder to contrast her words.

Robin hummed, a look in her eye that told Nami she didn’t buy it. “You three looked adorable all cuddled up this morning.”

Of all the ways she thought she was going to die throughout her life, at the hands of Arlong, dropping from Skypiea or on Whole Cake Island to name a few, she never imagined this would be it. Embarrassed to death.

How was she going to explain that this had started with comforting Luffy and snowballed into whatever the hell they were doing now.

She didn’t have to either as Luffy came barrelling over with a chirp of “Nami!”, unaware of their conversation or her embarrassment only to make it worse by squeezing himself onto her sun lounger, ignoring how close they were or that he was practically laying over her. He chattered excitedly next to her, telling her about what him, Usopp and Chopper had been doing, at one point using her straw to take a long gulp from her drink and all the while she was very aware of Robin’s eyes on her the whole time.

“It’s sweet. I’m happy for you three,” Robin said as soon as Luffy bounded off after telling her his short story.

He was out of sight soon enough, but her eyes naturally trailed over to Zoro, only to find his eye trained on her already. She couldn’t be sure whether he’d heard what Robin had just said, but the smile he gave her before closing his eye again certainly didn’t help.

It was full of warmth.

‘It’s sweet. I’m happy for you three.’

Robin’s words replayed in her head, over and over.

The last couple of weeks washed over her. Robin’s words bringing to the forefront how Luffy and Zoro’s behaviour had changed.

Luffy was the first one up in the mornings, unable to wait for either of them to wake up as he heard Sanji bustling around the kitchen and the lure of food too strong that he’d hastily take off, plastering a hurried kiss on the cheek or forehead of whoever was closest. Sure, it’d stunned her at first, but he’d done it to Zoro too and the other man hadn’t even blinked, so she’d let it go. Even if it did take her by surprise each time.

Then it just left Nami and Zoro by themselves to wake up together. He was so casual as he stretched, murmuring out a “mornin’” as he removed his arm from wherever it was laying against her body and it lingered a second too long, brushing against her skin. It was more subtle than Luffy’s gesture, but this was Zoro. It might as well be the same act.

She felt like an elephant in the room needed to be addressed, yet neither of them acted like anything had changed.

Outside the bedroom it changed too.

Where she used to be alone in the library as she drew maps, Zoro would now be napping against her desk or on the sofa, saying how it was quieter in there and because she was so cranky, they wouldn’t be disturbed. Luffy would soon gravitate towards them, asking questions about her maps that he didn’t really listen to the answer to, or he’d go lay his head on Zoro’s lap whilst he slept, a rare moment of calm that would punish them later as he bounded around.

Luffy would find her more often too, clambering over her seat if she was sun lounging or bringing over things that he’d found and deemed ‘cool’. Kind of like how a cat would bring mice to its owner to impress them… not that she was Luffy’s owner.

They still hung out with their other friends, but instead there’d be Zoro’s arm casually thrown over the back of her chair and Luffy at her other side, a hand constantly finding a way to touch her or draw her into his chaos.

Small shifts, so subtle it had taken her this long to piece it together.

It was almost like…

Almost like they were in a relationship. The three of them.

It made her stomach churn, but she didn’t know if it was in a good or bad way, like how it did when she was dreading something or excited.

And then the final puzzle piece slotted into place.

Oh.

She was in a relationship with them. Or at least the early stages but it was all there, for everyone to see and she’d missed it every step of the way. Her thoughts were jumbled. Too many fighting to be at the forefront and how had she not figured this out sooner?

Her mind had been running for hours whilst she was squished between Zoro and Luffy, staring up at the ceiling. It was still dark outside and all she’d done all night was drift in and out of sleep. She had more hours left to sleep, but she couldn’t calm her mind enough for it.

She rolled onto her side to face Zoro, in his sleep Luffy sensed her movement and filled the slither of free space to spoon up behind her, his breath heavy against her neck. She studied Zoro’s profile, from the scar covering his eye, which when he slept like that she couldn’t tell if he was awake, to the strong line of his nose, the normal severe expression softened in his sleeping state. Even when he slept on the deck, he didn’t look that relaxed, this was something privy to her and Luffy.

There was no way around it. She was attracted to him, and she couldn’t deny looking down at his lips a few times recently as he spoke. They looked dry, like he needed a good slather of lip balm over them, but she it didn’t stop her from entertaining the thought of pressing her lips against his. Luffy’s on the other hand, looked softer and she wondered if the texture was the same as his skin, still soft like human skin but there was a hint of resistance, of elasticity there. She was attracted to Luffy too, his carefree grin and contagious enthusiasm. How weir-

What she wasn’t expecting was for Zoro to suddenly stretch and stir, making a noise of contentment before he rolled over to face her and she didn’t have the sense the clamp her eyes shut in time. She stared back into a lone grey eye.

“Y’alrigh’?” Zoro slurred out, still caught in the grasp of sleep as he settled into his new position.

“Yeah.” She sounded too awake for how early it was and too vacant, unsure, that it caught his attention.

“What’s wrong?” More coherent now.

“Zoro… is this not a bit weird?” Luffy’s arm tightened around her, and he snuggled further into her back.

Zoro had already turned to face her, his arm haphazardly thrown over her, but after her question she could feel the shift, how he was looking at her before but now she could tell she had his full attention. He stared at her, all the signs of sleep or tiredness from before gone from his face. His eye was trained on her and it felt like she was being accessed, that he was trying to look through her.

Another second passed until he answered with a shrug.

“I dunno, maybe, but when have we ever done anything by the book?”

He made a good point and when had she ever cared what others thought?

Her silence seemed to make him take a step back, second guessing the intention of her previous question, as he asked, “Do you want to stop doing this?” The arm over her waist lightened, like he was ready to remove it at a moment’s notice and if she thought she was being accessed before, it was nothing compared to now. His gaze scrutinizing, flittering around her face for any sign of discomfort.

She considered it for a second but the thought of going back to an empty bed permanently made her ache. There’d be no whispering as they tried to go off to sleep, no elbows digging her in the night, no snoring in her ears and it wouldn’t be like an oven all the time with their combined body heat. It’d be cold and silent.

It sounded awful.

“No,” she whispered and Zoro’s arm rested back over her body like before, palm splayed across her waist and squeezing slightly, like he was encouraging her to continue. “But what if- what if this…” ‘doesn’t work out’, She wanted to say.

It didn’t matter, he was on the same page. “This is Luffy we’re talking about. And it’s me.”

He was telling her to trust them. Trust that this would all be okay regardless of the outcome because it was them, and they’d been through hell and back with each other since the very beginning.

And she did, the instinct flaring up instantly to calm her down.

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed, body relaxing and mind going blissfully silent with that little piece of reassurance.

“Good, then go to sleep, you’re gunna wake up cranky otherwise.”

He was pushing his luck, but she’d let it slide right now mainly because one, she didn’t want to wake Luffy (he was almost as bad as a baby when woken) and because he’d just been very sweet just then, in his own gruff way. And she was feeling generous.

A moment after closing her eyes there were warm lips pressing against her forehead and she sensed a slight hesitation there before they were gone. She cracked her eye open to look at him, but his eye was clamped shut stubbornly, pretending that he hadn’t done anything. There was no mistaking the blush on his cheeks though.

In the morning, when Luffy performed his routine of frantically jumping out of the bed to chase Sanji to the kitchen, he placed his usual hurried kiss on her cheek but this time around, she leaned into it with a smile on her face.

Since that night, things had changed. Everything seemed easier, casual touches that she no longer overthought and, if anything, she leaned more into them.

All of it felt more natural but then maybe that was because she’d relaxed.

Like déjà vu, Nami was on her sun lounger the next day. The hot weather from the day had simmered down into a mild evening and she was making the most of the quiet before they did it all over again tomorrow. Robin was next to her too, reading with the little light naturally left, she’d be moving indoors soon to carry on.

Nami’s eyes stung a bit, from the lack of sleep the night before and she hadn’t napped, but she felt lighter after last night. So much so that she confessed, “I’m in a relationship with Luffy and Zoro.”

Robin stopped reading and turned to smile at her patiently. “It would appear you are, are you happy about it?”

“Yeah,” she said, feeling her cheeks go rosy. “We can make arrangements though, it’s your room too,” she added as an afterthought.

“As long as it stays pg, it doesn’t bother me at all.”

She spluttered, her previously rosy cheeks turning red as it spread hotly across her face and down her neck. She’d only just wrapped her head around the fact she was in a relationship with them, she couldn’t even think about that yet.

“Besides, I believe I have somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

Robin looked over her shoulder and Nami peered behind her to see Franky walking off to his workshop.

Oh.

Nami’s grin turned teasing, it was only fair with what she’d had to put up with recently, except her fun was interrupted by Luffy calling from the women’s room stopped her in her tracks, Zoro poking his head out of the frame to grunt at her. Honestly, as if it wasn’t her room.

“I believe you’re being called for by your boyfriends,” Robin teased, twinkle in her eye.

“This isn’t over!” Nami pointed her finger at her.

“I didn’t doubt it.”

She crossed the deck, on her way to her room when the thought from last night popped into the forefront of her mind and how she could actually act on it now.

Zoro’s mouth opened when she appeared in the doorway, no doubt something snarky about her being the last one present but she couldn’t hear it over the blood thumping in her ears.

She marched over to them on the bed, a woman on a mission and Luffy looked at her curiously until he yelped as her hands cupped his face and brought him into a kiss. He hesitated for a second until his hands gripped her arms and his lips responded in kind. Whilst it was clear he lacked experience, enthusiasm dripped from the kiss and it more than made up for it as his lips moved eagerly against hers. She angled her head, encouraging him to do that same and trying to keep up with the frantic pace he was setting, all the while batting down a smile. It was him all over, joyful and chaotic and she didn’t know if she’d ever get enough of it.

They pulled apart and there was a split second of relief in his eyes, like maybe he thought this moment was never coming, before it was trampled by his excitement, and he beamed at her.

“You want one too?” She teased, looking over at Zoro, eyebrow raised in challenge.

Zoro’s response was a heavy palm on the back of her neck that had them both leaning in, over Luffy, to meet in the middle for a kiss much different from hers with Luffy. Zoro’s pace was slower, more thorough as he took his time against her lips, yet it was firm. He had a bit more knowledge, he was surer in himself, and it showed as she sunk into the kiss, for once letting herself be led. She enjoyed it just as much and she knew she’d relish taking her time to pull apart the differences between them, savouring the way they both made her feel.

A daring swipe of her tongue across his bottom lip and then they broke apart, Luffy in the background demanding another kiss when Zoro smugly said, “Took you long enough.”

He wouldn’t look so smug when she pushed him off the bed tonight.

Luffy’s pleas weren’t ignored when Zoro said, “Captain,” to capture the other boy’s attention and tugged on his vest to kiss him and it made her feel warm, a flutter in her stomach because whilst she wasn’t a part of the kiss, she was a part of them. The three of them.

Luffy looked dazed and then elated when they broke apart, grin splitting his face and there was a glint in his eye that told her more kisses would be demanded before they went to sleep.

She’d get changed and brush her teeth before getting in bed, maybe check that both of them have done that already because she didn’t remember smelling or tasting mint on their breath, when something caught her eye.

There was a space in the middle for her already.

And she smiled; her boys.

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

It’s been a while since I’ve had a fic practically write itself, I’ve missed that.

Luffy and Zoro may be idiots most of the time, but they’re both emotionally smart, it’s been shown time and time again. Nami, on the other hand, is in some cases but she’s also a bit of a worrywart too. So yeah, they kinda eased Nami into what was developing because they didn’t want to freak her out.

As always, please excuse any errors.

If you got this far, thanks for reading, it means a lot.

#ZoLuNa #ZoNami #LuNami #ZoLu #LuffyxZoroxNami #opwriting #opfanfic #One Piece #Luffy #Zoro #Nami

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