#oh this looks nice and doable

[heavenlydreamangelflyhigh]

moms getting competitive w her eating disorder again

[emobatsy]

potential work place said they'd call me "from 12 onwards"

its nearly 3. i am so adrenaline.

[pastafossa]

Pasta! Do you have any advice for me in catching up on TRT. I was away in the woods of Maine from May until like... the beginning of November. I am very behind and a bit overwhelmed, but I love Jane and Matt so much and want to catch up to their lives. -sr

I hope your time in the woods was happy, anon! Fresh air is good for the soul. 🥰

If I were to advise on how to catch up, I'd probably go with treating it like a bingeable show you're a season behind on! I'm not sure if you're a binger or an episodic viewer, so I'd lean towards whichever is your preferred. 'This weekend I'm going to binge and see how far I get' is one I go with sometimes if I'm only 10 or so eps behind, but there's also the binge style of, 'a few episodes a night until I'm caught up', which is generally what I go for with if the series is a few seasons.

The wordcount and chapter numbers are definitely intimidating but some good news is, I can assure you some of those chapters are short, AND with all the reno I did after moving, and subsequent reno mishaps, there were a few periods where we went either chapterless for a few weeks, or I only had time for short ones. So the catchup will likely be a bit easier than it would have been last year!

My best advice though is to take your time. If fics are races, then TRT is closer to a marathon than a sprint, and despite being 'one' fic, it's closer to a series. And Jane and Matt will always be there when you're ready to continue your journey. ❤🐧

[corruptedcaps]

Brat App

Ugh why did Mom have to marry the Dad of that bitch Alison?! As if being bullied at school isn’t enough now I have to get it at home too? I guess it’s not all bad though because I was able to hack into Alison’s phone and invite myself onto the exclusive ‘Brat App’ that Alison and her friends are all on. No idea what it is but with any luck I’ll find out some dirt on Alison to get her finally expelled so I can have some peace.

Hmmm this just looks to be some sort of social status game with challenges built on top. Every challenge has a ‘Brat’ value associated with it. So the more challenges a person does the higher up the leaderboard they climb and the higher up the rank. No big shock that Alison is sitting at the top as a level 10! Which gives her the rank of ‘Brat Queen’ which appropriate. By my calculations that would be…. nearly 10,000 points! Wow she must be addicted to this game. Looks like I got 1,000 bonus just for signing up and I can spend it on my little avatar of myself. Let’s see what I can buy. Sure why not, let’s improve her eyesight.…

Holy crap what just happened? My body feels all tingly and different. My glasses are making my eyes blurry. Did… did this app just cure my eyesight? This is unbelievable! What else can it do… more athletic, long nails, thick hair, big boobs, perfect posture. It makes sense now! All these challenges are real life challenges! This is how Alison is the hottest most feared girl in school! Ok new plan, if I raise the ranks of this app, and surpass Alison’s score then she’ll have to listen to me and become nicer. How hard could it be? I’m already at level one after all and these challenges don’t seem that difficult….

Bold makeup. Check. Revealing dress. Check. And that’s net me… let’s see here. 50 points? At this rate I’ll finish college before I have enough points! I need more bigger ticket items. Let me redeem these pathetic points at least. Mmmm nothing changed but it did give me a nice little tingle. Ok for 1000 points I need to… send some nudes?! Absolutely not! Alison hasn’t even done that! For another 1000 I need to suck a married cock? How vile! Ok this is more doable. Spread a vicious rumor about a classmate for 300. I could do that I guess. Hmmm I have to post it directly to the app so it can’t be about Alison or any of her friends. I know, I’ll say something about Lisa the unfortunate overweight girl in our class. She’ll never see it. I’ll say she was banned from Dairy Queen for breaking in and eating their whole stock. And send! Ohhhh somethings happening!

Oh god my tits! They’ve gone up like two sizes! But why? Hmmm looks like I hit some hidden ‘Bitch Bonus’ by doing that challenge. This is amazing and all I had to do was make fun of that whale Lisa. I know it was mean but it feels so fucking good! She’ll be fine it’s not like anyone will believe it anyway. <ding> ohhh that felt nice, what was it? Oh one of Alison’s friends liked my post. <ding> mmmm another one of her friends liked my post! Every like is 10 points and feels so gooood! <ding> oh fuck yesss girls keep liking! It feels so hawt! Maybe I should spread a few more lies…

Mmmm my body feels so much better in these clothes I redeemed! After only a few more rumors I got easily up to level 5, ‘Beta Bitch’, which unlocked my beautiful nails, my gorgeous silky hair, my perfect makeup, and all the knowledge to maintain them. Even my body is better shape, I’m so flexible now! Not to say anything about my lovely big tits! Alison’s friends seemed to really enjoy my wicked little rumours. I can’t deny it wasn’t fun writing them and it was even better getting the likes for them!

But I do feel kind of bad for all those losers I wrote stuff about though, I think the Brat App is effecting not just my body but my mind too. I feel so nasty and mean everytime I use it and even more now in this tight blouse and short skirt. I can’t help if I’m hotter than those dorks now! No that’s the app’s influence talking! I have to stop using the app, but I need to topple Alison! Ugh what do I do? <ding> what’s this? I’ve unlocked a new bonus. ‘Morality Suppression’? Hmmm that would solve my problems I guess and there is an option to turn it off later. Ok I’m going to do it! It’s for the good of the school after all. Here goes…

Ohhhhh fuck yesss that sooo much better. Like hell this is for the good of the school this is for the good of me! I feel so fucking free now. To think I was feeling regret for those pathetic fattys and geeky nerds I was writing about! I only regret not writing more! The only people worth anything are my bratty followers who like my posts and even they need to know their place and they will when I surpass Alison and become the new Queen bee. Oh fuck I feel so horny being this bad! I need some release and quick! Mmmm maybe I can finally tick off some of these challenges old me was too much of a loser to attempt. Mmmm yesss those will raise my rank in no time! Oh I have the perfectly wicked idea that will make me a bratty goddess by the end of the day! Oh step daddy!

Changed? Nonsense step daddy I’ve always looked like this. I’m a spoilt wicked little bitch just like your precious daughter, only you can fuck me. What’s the matter step daddy? Cat got your tongue? I bet you always wanted to fuck your mean little princess didn’t you? But you’re a good man and would never do that would you? But guess what? I’m not your daughter but I’m everything she is and more. Would you like a look under my shirt? Sure you would.

Hehe I see you like it step daddy. The outline of your cock is practically bursting out of your pants. Mmm and it looks so impressive. Let me have a peek <zip> oh step daddy, I can see why mommy married you. You’re so big! It’s making my mouth water. I need to have it step daddy, please say yes! I know you’re still hesitant so maybe it might convince you if I stopped calling you step daddy and instead called you… daddy. Mmm you like that don’t you… daddy? You want to put that big cock in my mouth and have my perfect pink lips suck it don’t you… daddy?

Mmmm thanks daddy for the great fucking, you’ve helped me complete so many nasty challenges. Suck a married cock. Check. Fuck an older man. Check. Call him daddy. Mmmm double check. After everything we got up to I completed over a dozen challenges, more than enough to take you bitch of a daughter’s crown. I just have to redeem the points now and assume the throne…. Mmmm it feels so good but something different is happening… oh fuck something amazing is happening!

Mmmm oh fuck yessss! Look at me, I’m a blonde busty bitch now! Im older and sexier and I feel so fucking nasty and hawt but how is this possible? Oh I see I unlocked a new challenge tree and a new rank. Mmmm ‘Homewrecker’ I love the sound of that! Who needs to be a bratty queen when I could be the wicked bitch that stole her daddy instead. Thats right darling, I’ve levelled up to being your mistress now and if you’re lucky and do as I say soon I’ll unlock ‘Trophy Wife’ and you can spoil me rotten as you should. Don’t worry I’ll still call you daddy, it makes everything feel so much more naughty. My mother? You mean that old crone Emma? She’s not my mother anymore, she not even my rival, she’s just an obstacle to our love, isn’t that right? Mmmm I knew you’d agree…. Daddy.

EPILOGUE

Alison was wondering what her father was doing that was taking so god damn long that he couldn’t have sent a car or something to pick her up from the mall like he promised. She had spent so much on his credit card that she was surrounded by high end boutique bags. Just when she was reaching her finally straw she got a message from him telling her he had sent a friend, some woman by the name of Gabrielle, to pick her up. Alison hadn’t heard of any Gabrielle before, except maybe her new dorky step sister but she went by Gabby anyway.

Following her father’s instructions to Gabrielle, Alison’s mouth was agape when she turned the corner to find a stunning blonde waiting for her. The blonde looked at Alison with distain and made Alison feel insignificant for the first time in her life. She didn’t like it. Gabrielle didn’t let up with her stare down, enjoying the way Alison averted her gaze. Alison meanwhile was grateful that their encounter was going to brief.

“So you’re Ted’s daughter? Hmmm I expected somebody a little more… impressive.” Gabrielle said not willing to hide her distaste. If this was anyone else Alison would have ground them to dust with only a few choice words but she felt so intimidated as she got into the car with the blonde bitch.

So much so that her phone dinged to tell her she lost some Brat points for her weakness. She had never lost points before! Gabrielle smirked to herself as she looked at her own phone and saw her points climb. She couldn’t wait become a wicked step mother.

[sweetcreaturetm]

I wish there was more nurse Steve.

Like Steve in nursing school doing clinicals and he does a round in the ED. And his first shift he gets this weirdo who has to have one of his rings cut off his finger cause he bet his buddy that his rings wouldn’t bend under the wheels of his van. He’s honestly lucky none of his bones are broken. Steve’s kind of just in the background since he’s just doing clinicals but the guy keeps looking at him for comfort while the doctors are setting up all the stuff to cut the ring. Steve can tell he’s a little scared so he goes to stand on his other side to distract him.

“So- uhhh” Steve checks the chart “Mr. Munson do you usually go around running over various body parts?”

Eddie smiles widely at him “it’s Eddie, and no. But uh” he shares a sneaky look with Steve and lowers his voice like they’re conspiring together “I was a little… shall we say elevated”

Steve literally giggles “I knew it smelled a little funkier than usual” he winks.

“What can I say I’m a funky guy-“ Eddie gets cut off by the small saw the doctors are aiming at his hand. Steve can tell he’s about to freak out he sees him start to pull his hand away.

He puts his hand on Eddie’s other arm and brings his attention back to him. He glances down at his guitar pick necklace. “Do you play the guitar?” He asks his hand never leaves Eddie’s arm. And that gets Eddie distracted going on and on about his sweetheart and his band and how they play at a place called the hideout and Steve listens intently. Steve’s more than kind of mesmerized by him.

Before either of them realize the ring is off. The charge nurse asks Steve to finish wrapping Eddie’s fingers and discharge him. Steve goes about getting the gauze and other supplies while still listening to Eddie now he’s talking about D&D something Steve knew more about than he wished thanks to Dustin.

He interrupts Eddie “Okay so I’m gonna put this ointment on just for some relief the saw blade didn’t cut you but it got a little hot for your skin so you might feel a little discomfort. Then I’ll wrap it up. Try to keep an eye if it starts to hurt worse or you have a reaction. I can sneak you some of this it works wonders” he starts to clean the tray off but Eddie stops him with his hand over Steve’s own.

“Do you think I could have my ring back?” He asks sheepishly.

“Oh yeah! Of course sorry I wasn’t thinking” Steve’s a little embarrassed of course he wanted his ring he probably didn’t even care about the stupid ointment. He puts the ring in a little plastic cup they use for pills. Unfortunately they had to cut it a few times so there’s some small bits of the band that are in pieces.

After Eddie signs all the paperwork he gives Steve a little bow in thanks “you probably couldn’t tell since I was being so brave” Eddie says. Steve giggles at that. “But I am a tad frightened of hospitals and stuff. So thanks for being so nice to me. And distracting me when they tried to saw my finger off”

“They would not saw your finger off!” Steve laughs even harder. “It was nice talking to you.” He gives Eddie a hopefully flirty smile.

“Whatever you say, Stevie” Eddie says after he glances down at Steve’s temporary badge. “But hey if it was so nice maybe you can come check out our next show after my fingers are fully recovered” he waggles said fingers but then winces and stops.

Steve reaches out for his injured hand and holds it and says “that actually sounds really nice. But I literally have no time out of school and clinicals.”

“Well maybe I’ll just have to find another way to injure myself to see you again” Eddie says getting bolder.

Steve looks deep into his eyes. He glances down at Eddie’s lips god he wishes he wasn’t literally working right now. “What if you didn’t hurt yourself again and I give you my number and you can come by when I get off my shift.”

Eddie considers for a second and hands Steve his own phone so Steve can put his number in. “That sounds doable” he leans close to Steve’s ear as he gathers his jacket to walk out of the curtained off area and then whispers “just like you” he winks over his shoulder at a gaping Steve.

When Eddie pulls out his phone after getting to the van he sees the newest contact in his phone “Stevie” with a little stethoscope emoji next to it. He sends Steve a quick text so he’ll be able to text him when he’s off.

Finally Steve takes a break and checks his phone he’s been dying to check it since Eddie left he has a text from an unknown number “Guess who *guitar emoji* *ring emoji*” Steve cannot stop grinning the rest of his shift.

[mosaickiwi]

Nails, TV, Moving

Rendacted paints your nails and 'asks' you to move in. 1.3k words, GN reader c:

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~

"Unfortunately for our contestant—" the host’s words get cut off as you press a button on the remote.

"Booooo," you jeered at the TV from your spot on the floor and changed the channel. 

Ren hummed softly at your voice, but didn't look up. Despite the dark bangs that obscure their eyes, you can tell they’re focused. He was happily painting your nails—the same shade of black as his own—at your request. He insisted you sit as close as possible on the blanket he laid down, instead of across the coffee table. He'd only ever painted his own nails after all, so the angle was very important to keep him from messing up. You were certain he just said that because he wanted the closeness.

The screen barely flashes a few frames before you're changing it again. A football game, a cartoon, a drama, and then—you finally stop. There's a couple wandering through a cabin, with a disembodied voice narrating all it had to offer. One of the many house hunting shows that came on every so often.

"Oh, this one's pretty." You put down the remote to watch. The couple head upstairs where the master bedroom is and your excitement quickly dies. "Maybe not. The bathroom is a huge let down."

Ren casts a glance up at the TV as the camera pans over the room once more. He took in the slanted ceiling, with the tub stationed on the lower end, lit up by an angled skylight. He didn't really see whatever problem you had. "What's wrong with it?" he asked.

"The ceiling is already so low. You'd have to fold yourself in half to get in that tub, tall as you are. And you'd probably hit your head every time you got out. We couldn't live there," you grumbled and rested your chin on your free hand, eyes never straying from the screen. "No way I'd put you through that."

You didn't notice how he perked up when your concerns involved him—you even said ‘we.’ A miniscule drop of polish fell on the paper towel under your hand. He wasn't sure if you were being considerate, or if your perfectly normal relationship was at the point of buying a home together. He hoped it was the latter. Either way, including them already planted ideas in their mind. "So then, what's our—your ideal home have?"

"My ideal home…" You’d only really thought about things you didn’t want, thanks to your current apartment. "I can't say I'm very picky. No holes in the walls, enough room to breathe, no rats," you paused for a bit—now they were in a rather awkwardly shaped second bedroom. "When I was little I wanted to live in a bounce house. Or have a freezer dedicated to ice cream."

Ren smiled while he carefully painted the nail of your pinky. "One of those is doable."

"True, but I'd rather not blow up my house every day," you joked and continued pondering. "The location is probably the most important, right?" He silently nodded in agreement as you went on. "Corland Bay's nice and all—having everything so close together makes things easy. Except sometimes I wanna fall asleep without hearing cars pass by or Violet playing games. It's much quieter here. Plus your bed is comfy."

"You're more than welcome to live here, Angel," he innocently offered. “Although maybe you’d enjoy somewhere more secluded.”

“Like just out of town? Not too far from civilization. I'd still wanna be near the beach." You watched the couple fuss about the kitchen in another house before you really processed what he just said. You turned to look at him for the first time since the show caught your interest. "Are you asking me to move in with you?" 

"Oh, is that what it sounded like?" His tone was full of shock, but you could see the way his snake bites pulled up in a faint grin. He examined your nails and lifted your hand once he deemed it finished. "I do have all this space, though. The library’s close by. Beach is a short walk away, too. No neighbors, no noise. I've never had a rat problem. I guess it hits all the marks f’you, doesn’t it, Angel?"

"Ren…" You rolled your eyes at his antics. 

"If you really want to move in that badly, I'm not opposed," he said teasingly. "Other hand."

You didn't respond just yet, merely giving them a playful side eye and placing your hand flat on the table. Gently, you blew air on your wet nails while he went to work. The noise of the TV faded into the background as you thought about his offer.

It was a big step to take. You already spent a fair amount of your time at his place. The ever-dwindling amount of laundry you did at home served as proof. Cohabitating with them wouldn't be much different from now. Ren always gave you space when you asked, even with his clingy personality. He was tidy, quiet, and never made a fuss—the perfect roommate on paper. The real issue was money. A place like this would cost way more than a librarian’s salary could pay.

"As much as I want to, I have to consider rent first," you thought aloud, causing him to stop and look up.

"Angel, you don't need to pay anything." His answer was almost immediate and it surprised you how firm he sounded about it.

You shook your head. "I know I probably can't do half, but I’d like to do my fair share. How much is your rent each month?"

"Well, actually," he stalled and idly rolled the nail brush in his fingers before putting it back in the bottle. The rent was one thing he couldn’t be bothered to keep track of. "...I have no idea?"

"How—what?"

"It's an automatic payment so I never think about it," he admitted, explaining further at your incredulous expression. "I mean I definitely saw it when I found the listing—and when I signed the lease. But I can't remember it off the top of my head."

You had a hard time believing what you were hearing. You knew your own rent by heart—it mocked you every time it took a chunk out of your bank account. A question about how he budgeted weighed in your mind, although the rather calm way Ren spoke clearly answered it: he didn't. It seemed obvious now; he'd been a frivolous spender from the beginning.

The blank look on your face made him a little worried. "Honestly, Angel, it’s not an issue. I’ve been paying it on my own just fine," he insisted. "You don’t have t’worry about any cost if you stay here, I promise.” He’d be happy as a clam to pay triple whatever he already was if it meant you'd move in. Hell, he’d even pay for you to live in one of the empty units next door.

"Fine then," you sighed in defeat, glancing towards the TV screen for a moment. The show was already ending. "If I tried to give you money you'd just find a way to give it back anyways.”

Ren let out a faint breath as if he was holding back laughter, but didn’t disagree. "So, how about it? Gonna move in?” he asked with a sincere smile.

You couldn’t help but smile the same in return. “Yeah, why not? I’d be crazy to say no. I can talk to my landlord and be out in a few weeks, probably.”

His excitement only seemed to grow at your words. He was radiating silent joy, fingers tapping rhythmically on the table as he uncapped the bottle of polish once more. You could almost imagine a tail wagging behind him as he tried to make steady brushstrokes over your nail.

“Are you really that happy?” you laughed and he nodded. “Maybe I should just move in tomorrow.” His hand barely slipped, leaving the tiniest streak of polish on the side of your ring finger.

“Oops,” he muttered.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, clashing personalities, exclusion, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: moody boy Curtis Everett x bubbly, plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your lunch is a bit hectic and tour tummy is aching for your missed meal but your mission is accomplished. You have the box of coffee, the exact brand they keep in the break room. You stop at your desk and attach one of your heart-shaped post-its, writing Curtis’ name on it with a smiley face over the i. You'll let it be anonymous, a nice surprise.

The only hitch is finding the opportunity to drop it at his desk. So you do some snooping through the internal calendar. He has a meeting at fifteen. That's doable.

You watch the clock, not getting much done in your anticipation. You wait until two minutes after then hug the box to your stomach and make your way towards IT. You keep your head down, laser focused on the target.

You slip past Jensen's desk, he isn't there either. You see just ahead that Curtis’ chair is empty and you almost leap in delight. You tiptoe over, hovering the box beside the keyboard but don't put it down.

You shouldn't look but you know that shade of pink. The slightly open drawer slides open as you poke your toe under it. Your pillow! The stuffed donut pops up as it's released from the tension of the cramped drawer.

Wait? How'd it get there?

“What the hell are you doing?” Curtis startles you as he comes around the corner.

You look up at him and bat your lashes. He stole it. Why? Revenge? Does he hate you that much?

You drop the box of coffee and it bounces onto the floor. You snatch the pillow from the drawer and scramble in the other direction. You nearly collide with Jensen as Curtis grumbles behind you, the drawer slamming harshly.

“You okay?” Jensen touches your sleeve.

You can't talk. You're confused and hurt and… you really thought you misplaced the pillow, you didn't think someone would steal it. You shake your head and push past, clinging to your pillow as your eyes sting. You're done trying to be nice.

🩷

You take your pillow home with you that night. You won't bring it back. You'll just suffer the pain.

You can't believe you ever tried to be his friend. Why did it matter so much to you? You suppose there's still lots of people to meet at the office. Or you can eat your lunch alone.

Oh well, it's the weekend. You don't have to face the music for a couple days. You spend the night on your computer, playing the new game you downloaded on Steam, a puppy dress-up sim. It was free.

You sleep, not well. You don't know why you're so uneasy. Halfway through the night, you hide the donut pillow in your closet.

The next day you think of all the ways you can spend your time. You come up with nothing but that's fine. You'll go to the mall!

You put on a yellow and green patchwork overall skirt over a plaid blouse and set off. You won't spend too much but a new plushie will cheer you up.

The bus drops you off at the east entrance of the mall. You enter and stop to buy yourself a cinnamon bun. You're starving!

You wander and wipe away the stickiness on a crumpled napkin as you enter the game shop. You pass by the collectible figures for a tabletop RPG and find your way to the squishmallows. The taco one is adorable.

You squat down to grab the fried egg plushy and smile. This one will go with your toast pillow. As you stand, you press against someone else. You apologise but stop as an arm hooks around you. Another comes around your other side, claiming the stuffy from your grasp.

“You like these things?” The gristly voice rolls into you.

You gasp and pull away, turning to face Curtis as he eyes the smiling sunny-side up. Your back hits the shelves as you stare with wide eyes. You don't get it, how did he find you?

“Where did you come from?” You ask dumbly.

“Relax, I was here to buy dice,” he continues to examine the toy.

“Oh…” you look around, “you play that game; diners, dives and dragons.”

“Dungeons and dragons,” he corrects you.

“Ha, I know, just a very not funny joke,” you shrug.

You reach for the stuffy but he pulls it out of reach. He finally looks at you. You could wilt like a dying flower.

“I'll get it for you.”

You're stunned speechless. Your mouth falls open as he looks away. He pulls his shoulders up and drops them.

“Fair trade. For the coffee.”

“Oh,” you snap your mouth shut, “that's not… that's fine.”

You try to take the toy again but he puts it behind him. He steps closer, crowding you against the shelves. You sweat as your eyes skitter side to side.

“I shouldn't have taken your… donut thing.”

“Uh, yeah, well, it's… really, I think it's better we just keep our distance,” you rub the back of your neck, “it's nice of you to offer to make it up but I'm over it.”

“Over it?” He echoes.

“Yeah, I don't wanna be friends. We're coworkers. Let's keep it profesh.”

“Profesh…” he squints.

“So I'll just take the squish,” you sidle and reach around him, tugging the toy until he lets go, “have fun with your dragons.”

He doesn't move as you march up the aisle. You go to the counter and proudly present the fried egg. You unzip your furry purse as Curtis strides towards the till.

“Wait,” he says.

“Sorry, I got stuff to do. See ya around the office though,” you swipe your card and the machine bings with approval, “I'm sure you're busy too.”

You smile at the cashier and take your bag and receipt. You spin and stroll out. You sense Curtis behind you and walk faster. He catches up to you and blocks your path. You nearly fall over your feet as you stop abruptly.

“I apologised.”

“Thanks.”

“Thanks?” He growls.

“Uh huh.”

His brows draw together and his lashes flick, “I… I'm trying–”

“It's too late. Sorry, can't help you,” you shrug, “enjoy the coffee and the silence. I know you prefer both to me.”

You sidestep him again and hear him sputter. You scurry without looking back. You don't hear him but don't let out your breath until you turn into the next wing of the mall. You hope you didn't just make him hate you even worse but you have to protect your happiness. And your squishmallows.

[blood-grove]

//body horror, monster! 141 + reader , death, gn!reader

other; c/n = callsign

a/n: idk how the military works neither do igaf much also this story was not planned this was just something i needed to get out of my system do nto expect it to be good

Shapeshifter!Reader whos always since they were a kid felt itch that there skin was ready to shed and peel like a snake, Who always felt like there body wasn't right had to be perfect flaws and all because that was human.

But they weren't human, weren't hybrid either.

The first time they had ever shifted they were eleven there Father in one of his moods again taking it out on there poor mother.

Something inside them itched at that moment hearing her cries there old dog bite injury felt like it was on fire now as they itched and scratched at it till the skin gave way giving the breathing room for transformation.

The next time they open there eyes they were being kicked there Mother sobbing as she screamed.

Father laid dead mauled beyond recognition.

Did you do that?

Why was she screaming at you?

You were kicked into the foster system the next day narrowly avoiding Juvenile detention your mother had given her last bit of gratitude by explaining to the police that you were defending her you thought she'd praise you after the police left.

You were packing your clothes that night.

You got a DNA test when you arrived due to your mothers alibi to the police.

Human.

They figured it too your mother being clearly traumatized and you sudden violent act of self defense could have made her see anything at moment.

Still didnt explain the injuries that only a dog could cause.

You were 15 when you had a good grasp on what you were.

By 18 you were barely you anymore picked pieces from other peoples faces and bodies till you felt like you looked normal.

By 19 your mother had passed the news reached you slow and the grief went slower.

By 21 you've already been in the military for a while now, If that means with a new face and body each time some higher up sticks there nose into your business then so be it.

Shifting from human to human was easy the more you practiced it.

More harder things like non-humans and animals were doable but animals were getting easier and easier.

You've tried been a K9 once didnt work out for long.

You've had a few nice call signs.

Few you quickly forgot.

[c/s]

Thats been nice to be called recently.

Oh.

Right.

You should focus your meeting your new task force.

Right.

We should focus.

Woof.

Heh.

Its been a few days and wow these guys were something.

Did you mention they were monsters?

Not in a negative way of course.

But getting to know them while they were around base was nice.

Gaz you felt was the easier to get to know the harpy felt open, Talked about how they've never had a human on the team before.

Nice.

Threw Gaz you got to know Soap, You felt like the man was holding back the calm energy around him felt forced at times as the days past both of them seemed to get to know you better and you got to know them better as well.

As for the Captain and Lieutenant you were honestly nervous,

Price had a welcoming aura to him his voice gruff and firm you warmed up to him soon enoug.

Ghost?

You tried.

And shuffled away every time he looked at you.

He noticed.

He noticed?.

You eventually did warm up to Ghost!

You realized he wasn't glaring at you for once and tried to talk to him it was..awkward to many silences but it was a conversation.

So you and him were okay.

Were you okay now weeks later slowly making your place into the team?

No.

You were itching beyond belief this wasn't a good sign—

Actually you didn't even know what kind of sign this was.

You had all just gotten back from a particular rough mission a few more injuries than you all would like you got a few stitches in your arm and every since you could just feel them moving.

Being shifted around stubbornly as if they were a dam in a river.

You couldn't do that here.

You were in the confines of your own room but what if one of them walked in?

Would they report you?

Get you kicked for the military?

Maybe if you could just shift slightly enough to easy the unease under your skin.

The sound of cracking bone was sure to grab attention.

But surely you could just pass it off as stretching?

You could not pass it off as stretching and you were currently hiding in the rafters near sobbing.

Gaz had came in to check on you and caught you half shifted you panicked and lunged at him or the door you couldn't remember you were pretty sure one of your bones were jutting out of your skin as it readjusted into place.

You didn't hurt him.

You were just hoping you could calm yourself enough to shift into something smaller and run away shift into a new person new age try again at childhood maybe?

Maybe you panicking too much?

There also monsters they'd understand?

You didn't mean to lie about what you were.

You just.

The fear of the unknown paralyzed you to afraid of what'll happen what people will think.

You know you could be a threat.

Someone able to take face and shape of anyone?

You could understand if you were saw that way.

But you didn't want to be seen that way.

Every since your mother stared you down in fear not admiration not even shock.

Fear.

You knew you could never let someone look at you that way again.

Not someone you cared about.

Maybe if you hid away long enough they'd forget.

Memories fade.

Faces fade from recognition.

But that's all what you wished what have happened.

Now you were in a awkward stare off with Gaz not to subtly watched your arm pop and snap back into place along with your head.

"I see I should have knocked.."

"Yeah you should have."

A voice of not your own replied.

You hated when your body was out of sync.

You were using the wrong voice again, rearranging your own brain and vocal cords was odd.

Odder when one of your new teammates watched.

"Are- Are you okay?-"

"No" Ghost's voice replied.

"Oh..I-..Er..Do you..need a medic I.."

"No" Your own voice replied finally.

"Can you please leave..My ribs are still not in place and I doubt you'd want to see how that works."

He left.

Probably to tell Price rather then not wanting to see you basically play with your own rib cage like tuning a piano.

a/n; idk where this was going i did not plan this out i just wrote it on a whim

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

A How-To Guide to Ask Your Girlfriend to Marry You: Advice from Carey Fangbattle

The first step to this is to get a girlfriend. This may sound daunting, but it is doable! You might look back on your past attempts in this arena and cringe; it’s easy enough to say do not cringe, kill the thing that cringes. It’s another story when confronting yourself with the veritable trauma-trove of stinkers you shackled yourself with in the past. Breathe. Ask the cool girl at work to come spar with you. At best, it’s the perfect kindling for some nice sexual tension. At worst, you’re still sparring (and when you’re good at being hard to hit, it’s nice to have a challenge). 

Taking it slow is cool! You can keep sparring and hitting the gym and become increasingly obvious that you want to maybe go for coffee sometime. And then, while out for coffee, if you suddenly remember you don't drink coffee, DO NOT PANIC. Tea is cool. You ever tried a Faerun Fog? It's like a latte but with tea. It's fine.

You can also try inviting her back to your place to watch a movie. Be sure to place the bowl of popcorn in such a way that would make accidental hand brushes inevitable. 

Keep dropping hints that you're gay. Maybe she didn't notice. 

Repeat substeps 1-3.

Get assigned to go on a work trip with her now that the flirtation has really ensued. Find the shittiest, draftiest tavern you can (there's not a lot of money in the job). Now, you might be asking: how many beds were there? And the answer is two, but don't despair! Because if you're cold-blooded, eventually she's going to get tired of your teeth chattering and will invite you to share her bed anyway! 

Wake up in her arms. Super platonic like. 

Oh, that actually worked? You now have a girlfriend? Great job! Never doubted you for a moment! 

Now, you can go on some more dates! Have you tried the new wine and pottery place? It seems pretty cool.

Avoid your coworker at said wine and pottery place

Let her know that the whole being a reptile thing does make certain things different but! it's cool and fine and doesn’t take very much getting used to.

She's very enthusiastic and a quick learner. Lucky you.

This next step is also vital, sorry. You have to befriend this absolute himbo of a man. Neither of you consciously make an effort, you're just drawn together.

Hmm, politely turn him down after he hits on you.

Shit, that's not at all what was happening, cool cool cool. 

He's cool about it though. And he has skills! And he wants to learn your skills!!

Have a heart to heart conversation with your girlfriend. This will happen organically after a long day at work. You're both going to be exhausted in every sense of the word. After all, you just had to attend the funeral of a friend. 

She'll tell you she had wanted to use a powerful magic item while on a mission a while back.

Recall that the terms of your employment require that you apprehend or kill members of your organization tempted to do just that. 

Be so brave and not cry about what this could mean for you both one day.

…cry a little

Decide you want to marry this woman.

Drop the hint to your best friend that you want to marry this woman.

Your best friend will carve a beautiful ring for your (hopefully) future fiancé.

Keep the ring in your pocket. 

Try to figure out when to pop the question.

Watch the color fade from the world.

Lose your best friend.

Mourn him.

Discover your best friend was an alien from another plane of existence.

Discover that he didn't actually die.

Asshole, who keeps that kind of thing from a best friend!

Nearly lose the love of your life in the fray of battle.

Lose your shit.

Survive the apocalypse.

Mourn your friends.

And finally, when the dust has settled and you're finally back together in your bed, wince when you realize the ring box is digging into your hip. 

Shift your weight and be weird for a minute 

She's going to laugh a little. This is good. She loves you, after all. 

Forget every single romantic notion you've ever come up with and tell her instead that you'd like to spend every near-apocalypse with her for as long as you both shall live.

She'll say yes, yes, ten thousand times yes.

She'll cry. 

You'll cry. 

And now you're engaged!

Start planning the wedding. 

…Good luck

[ghostinthegallery]

Taking a break from complaining about necron treatment to complain about Tyranid treatment! Because the fact that nids don't have their own books/lore/characters is bonkers to me. "Oooooh, they're too vast and alien to comprehend blah blah blah giving them characters undermines the mystery and horror..." NO! COWARDS! You want to sit there and tell me no author in the history of science fiction has ever effectively written from the POV of the alien? The inhuman? Made it both chilling and sympathetic? Never???

Gee it sure would be nice if Games Workshop had ever worked with a Hugo Award-winning author who had previously written a series including the POVs of hyper-evolved intelligent alien spiders. And it would be even better if that author had already written a book about Genestealers and so likely understood tyranid lore. OH NO WHERE SHALL WE FIND SUCH AN INDIVIDUAL???

Oh hey look it's Adrian Tchaikovsky! Author of the fantastic 40k book Day of Ascension. Go! Give him a pile of money to solve the Tyranid lore problem. Robert Rath and Nate Crowley fixed necrons, this clearly can be done. Hive tyrants and lictors already have enough individual personality to become characters in their own rights. Deathleaper exists. This is so, so doable.

There, solved the problem. I expect my copy of the new Tyranid novel in the mail. You're welcome

[yulin-pop]

⤷ ✧ Nail polish

Gender neutral

- order 62 | Headcanon | Second years

Note: I don’t know much about nails and my only source is my mom.

Riddle Rosehearts

He wants red and white. It works well with his dorm uniform and it reminds him of the Queen of Hearts! He just wants the classic round shaped nails since long nails could make it hard to do his daily activities. But he actually kinda wants long nails.

As you do his nails, he’s staring at you. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He doesn’t wanna distract you so he just stares at you.

“Oh wow, they’re cuter than I remember…”

He gets a random craving for sweets so immediately when you’re done he wants to have a tea party. He’s really impressed actually. It’s really pretty.

He randomly starts staring at his nails and smiles at the thought of you. But people think it’s a little weird that he began smiling for no reason.

“Is Riddle okay??”

“Why is he smiling?”

Ruggie Bucchi

Why would he get his nails painted? He’s always doing something with his hands, it’s gonna get ruined immediately.

But alas, you don’t care and sit him down. He picks out a dark brown and a cream color. He doesn’t really care what design or shape so you get some creative freedom.

He keeps moving while wailing “it feels weird!” He gets used to it after a while and only does it to annoy you. You have a death grip on his wrist so you can actually get the job done.

He always asking “are you done yet??” just to annoy you.

After you’re done, he’s actually kinda satisfied.

But the next week his nails are already ruined! He probably bites his nails and he most likely accidentally ate the nail polish.

He tried to save it though, but Leona wasn’t having any of that.

“Damn, please? Look I got my nails down I don’t wanna get them ruined.”

“I don’t care get me my food.”

Now you sit him down again and have to redo it.

Floyd Leech

He’s very happy to get his nails painted. He wants a different color on every finger and it’s doable but just kinda funny. He also asks for stiletto nails He’s smiling the whole entire time which is very unnerving.

He randomly laughs as you paint it in.

“What’s wrong?”

“Heh sorry it felt funny!”

He tells you the story of when Azul sprayed ink when the twins played a prank on him as little children. Apparently it felt similar as getting your nails painted, according to him at least.

Hes really happy with the end result. It probably ended up looking a little wack because he kept moving.

He’s glad nail polish to waterproof. It lasts a long time since his nails don’t seem to grow very fast (him being an eel and stuff).

Okay but he would accidentally chip it and he would cry. He would forget his long nails and chip it while putting on his gloves.

Jade Leech

He doesn’t see why not? He’s puts his hand out expectantly. You can pick out the color but he wants squoval nails since long nails seem hard to function in.

He keeps a good conversation with you. It’s easier to have a conversation with him when he’s not staring at you with a scary grin.

He enjoyed it more than expected. He compliments your work and gives you a very charming smile.

He takes very good care of his nails and it lasts for a while, like Floyd’s. He wouldn’t chip it unlike Floyd. It feels oddly nice to have painted nails.

Azul Ashengrotto

It’s a bit scary. He thinks that nails make it hard to do paper work so he wants short nails. The tweels would pick the colors and it ends up being a nice blue, the color of their earrings.

Azul tries to not move but it feels weird. He distracts himself by doing paper work until you start working on his right hand, his dominant hand. So he talks to you.

He’s impressed but still sorta embarrassed about it. He wears his gloves more often but then would panic if he saw it was messed up in any way.

Jamil Viper

He doesn’t really want to but it wouldn’t be the worst thing. He agrees and he likes how happy you seem. Color doesn’t matter much to him unless it’s tacky and he wants to keep his nails short. Long nails would make his life much more difficult.

Kalim picks the color and it’s the color of the Scarabia gem. He’s very quiet which makes it a bit awkward. It’s oddly relaxing for him. Enough he could fall asleep but he doesn’t.

When it’s finished, Kalim is staring really hard. Kalim runs out and gets out some jewelry and tells him to put it on. Jamil refuses but eventually you grab it and put it on for him.

Just as expected, it looks even better. Jamil keeps it on because he knows he’ll get pestered to put it back on by both you and Kalim.

He might accidentally chip the nail polish while doing dishes and just peel it off.

Kalim Al Asim

Yay! He’s so excited. He already knows what he wants. Almond nails with blue and red, like the feather on his dorm uniform!

He apologizes for moving around too much but it tickets. He kinda sits between your legs facing away from you. Apparently that’s not how he’s supposed to sit but it doesn’t matter since you still get the job done.

He’s so happy he’s jumping with joy. He probably would try to pay you for your work.

He takes extra good care of his nails. I don’t think it would last that long because he’s clumsy. He gets really sad and guilty when it gets ruined.

Silver

Sure? Lilia and Malleus have black nails, anyway. He’s not sure what color he should choose so he asks you. Ultimately, he gets a color similar to his eyes. You figure that you could just use his natural nail shape.

He was expecting to do it sitting up but you tell him to lay down on your lap under a tree. He complies and eventually he falls asleep just as expected.

You get a bit distracted because you see animals approaching but as soon as you raise your head they started scurrying away.

You wake him up when you’re done and he feels bad for falling asleep. Well the job was already done.

Lilia takes notice of his nails. He’s a bit surprised but it’s adorable. Now he wants a nail appointment.

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Fool’s Crown

@hannahmanderr

Danny is very very stupid, Amity Parkers are very very oblivious, and a crown is apparently very very easy to hide.

Look okay, Danny had an issue, and, okay, he was also a dumbass. Meaning…

…

That’s right! He dealt with his issues like a dumbass.

His current issue?

One. Crown.

One crown that will not come off of his head even when he tries to yank the thing off with both his hands and his feet at the same time.

He even tried smacking it with a frying pan and only succeeded in giving himself a mild concussion.

Jazz had some words to say about that.

Sticking the crown in the portal and closing it with him still on the other side, also didn’t do shit.

So yeah.

He was NOT impressed. ‘Not’ with every single letter capitalised for the oomph… and to make a point about how not amused he was. Because he was very not amused.

So what was Danny to do about a floating green flaming glowing crown that will not fuck off?

Well get it to stop floating for one, which was surprisingly actually doable. Huh. Who knew. It’s got a cold metallic weightiness to it that felt like it was going to give him too many headaches; both literally and metaphorically (He was absolutely right on that one).

That just left him with the glowing problem, the flaming problem, the green problem, and the fact that it was a goddamn crown problem.

But flames plus frost from a kickass ice core equaled no more fire, nice and easy breezy, like he wished more things would be. Not out loud obviously, because, you know, Desiree. But yes, more easy things please! Thank you very much! Fuck his shitty luck. He could have technically just changed the crown over to cold blue flames instead of being frosty, but then the thing would still be on fire, which was the issue he was trying to solve.

The last three problems didn’t have some easy solution he could pull out of his ass on the spot, but you know what he could do on the spot and get nearly on the spot?

Amazon.

And you know what he could get on Amazon?

A thick leather crown.

And what could he do with a thick leather crown?

Why undo the stitching on the bottom so he could just… slide it over his actual crown.

Is it stupid? Like, very stupid?

Yes.

Does he buy the crown?

Abso-fucking-lutely.

Sam is judgmental but lets him use her prime account and he’s got that bitch in hand with same-day delivery. Sam is also judgemental that he makes her undo the stitching, she was better at stitch work than him so he thought it made sense okay! Gosh!

And!

Guess what!

Shit fucking works.

He can just slide it right over his crown. It’s like whoever designed these leather crown things did it with the Crown Of Fire in mind! Talk about a win for him!

Tuck slapped his knees and Sam facepalmed with multiple groans. At least Sam still attached little straps to the bottom of the leather crown so he could actually fully attach it to his crown securely. It made him look like he had a floating leather crown! It was hilarious! And it made the metal of the crown dig into his head less when he forced it to stop with the floating.

All in all he’s tickled green with his success.

Does his ‘fashion choices’ get questioned, and mocked, and belittled, and attempted at being stolen?

Oh of course.

Did he care?

Ha! Not a chance!

He did have Wes pointing at him and shrieking about him having too big of an ego to be willing to hide being the ghost king though, that was fantastic.

Fantastic because that meant that no one would ever believe he actually was the ghost king.

Which he was and he was goddamn rocking it.

Rocking it while totally leather strapped, making him an absolute leather daddy.

Eh? Eh? Ha! He thinks he’s funny. Because he is. That shit was absolutely hilarious.

Oh! Maybe he should actually, like, get into the leather subculture to really sell it. Then he’d totally rock a leather pride flag at the next pride.

…

Johnny’s going to insist on teaching him how to ride a motorcycle then, isn’t he?

Oh yeah he totally is.

Sure he couldn’t wear a helmet over his stupid crown thing but ain’t fucking nobody going to question a Fenton about following road safety or driving laws.

Ah he was about to be a leather crown wearing, motorcycle driving, space nerd, who handled and made supernatural ghost weapons.

Poor Amity. Poor poor Amity.

That was a lie. Amity loved his stupid weird dumbass, and he knew it.

End.

Prompt: After becoming Ghost King, Danny discovers that his crown refuses to be taken off his head, or even to disappear. This might not be a problem, if he didn't have to worry about going to school.

[babybluebex]

italy calling: part one | joseph quinn x fem!reader

summary: part one of three! after much convincing on your friend's part, you end up in italy and, on your first night, you meet a handsome stranger. pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader (rpf - don't like, don't read) tags: drinking, probably bad financial decisions word count: 3.1k author's note: again, big thanks to @icallhimjoey and @wordscomehither for your help on this fic!! let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this fic!

You suppose, the whole thing wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for the no good, terrible job you had. 

Overall, you liked your job. Well, that was an exaggeration. You liked your job well enough that you showed up every day and did your work, entering data into spreadsheets for an organization that you honestly weren’t entirely sure of what it was. There were quotas that you had to record, quantities and whatnot that you supposed people were chastised for for not meeting. But past that, you didn’t really know. The important thing was that it was mind-numbing work, just punching away at your computer day after day, getting lunch breaks and fifteens and really whatever else you needed. Decent sick leave hours, and a bit of a process to request time off, but you didn’t mind your job, no matter how tedious it could be. Your cubicle was small and you hated the professional “office attire” that you had to wear, but you made do, coming home each evening to a TV dinner and reruns of Murder, She Wrote. 

Your friend, however, was convinced that you were miserable and needed something more. “Babes,” Lily said one night over margs and tacos. She had sort of dragged you out of the comfort of your flat and forced you to do a “girl’s night”, and you poked at your margarita with your straw. “You need a vacay. Like, desperately.” 

“No, I don’t,” you told her. “Where would I go? What would I do?” 

“Go to Italy or something!” Lily said. “Just for a week, just long enough to destress from work! Your shoulders are all tense, you look sad.” 

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Go to some expensive resort for a week and blow my savings for what? To ‘destress’, only for me to come back home to work and get all stressed out again? No thanks, Lil, I’ll stick with London.” 

“I mean…” Lily started. “My family has a house in Livorno. I’m sure my parents would let you stay for way less than if you went to some resort.” 

“Okay, I’d still have to get a plane ticket and pack and everything,” you said. “And ask for time off, which isn’t guaranteed. It’s just— Lil, I love you and I appreciate you thinking about me, but it’s just not doable.” 

“What if I went with you?” Lily asked. “Then, you’d get the house for free, because I’d be there with you! I won’t, like, harsh your mellow or anything either, I can chill at the house while you explore and everything. C’mon, some sunshine will do you good.” 

You frowned. You loved Lily, you had known her since your school days, but she had a sort of intense personality that could get old quickly, especially if you had to spend more than about three days together. She was definitely all beautiful and bubbly, could make friends with anyone no matter where she was or who she was with, and you just didn’t consider yourself her social equal. You definitely couldn’t see yourself traveling to Italy with her, but you also knew that she would keep on the topic like a dog on a bone. “I mean…” you started. “I guess it would be nice to get away from London for the week. And I do like Italian food.” 

“Yes!” Lily smiled. “Go to Italy!” 

You sighed. “Alright,” you said. “Give me a few days to check if I can get time off and see what my money situation is, and I’ll get back to you.” 

“Oh!” Lily squealed, and she grabbed your arm. “I’m so excited for you! You’re going to Italy!” 

“Maybe,” you said quickly. “I might be.” 

“What if you meet a guy?” Lily gasped. “Some tall, dark Italian guy?” 

“Now you’re just talking shit,” you laughed. “I’m not gonna meet some guy in Italy, that’s added stress that I don’t need. That’s ridiculous.” 

“Maybe not a relationship,” Lily said. “Maybe just a little… Tryst. A fling. Just for the week.” 

Just for the week. A fling. Oh, Lily, you optimistic creature, you. You were lucky to pull a guy in London, there was no hope for you in Italy. “Right, right,” you mumbled. “When pigs fly.” 

“Don’t get so down on yourself,” Lily said. “You could! You could meet the most wonderful guy and keep up with him after the vacation!” 

“Ew, long distance?” you said, wrinkling your nose. “I might go to Italy, but you can forget about a man.” 

You didn’t forget about that, though. You thought about the idea of it for the next week, as you worked and relaxed. You sorted through your finances and found that, if you stayed at a midline hotel, you could stay in Livorno pretty comfortably for roughly a week. You appreciated Lily’s offer of staying at her family’s house, but you wanted time to yourself, and you couldn’t see Lily giving that. Staying at a hotel would wipe out your savings, though, so you hoped that you didn’t have any sort of emergency before or after the vacation. You sent in your time off request, and you were elated when it came back the next day as approved. 

It seemed as if you were going to Italy. 

Finally, after waiting for what felt like years, the time came. You packed the day before, putting in swimsuits and jackets and everything that you could imagine— you had looked at the weather forecast and it said that it would be hot, but you knew that the nights could go cold, so you packed at all ends of the spectrum. Your flight took off at ten in the morning, giving you very little time in the morning to get ready, and you shot Lily a text when you left your flat. Italy, here I come! 

You felt like you were holding your breath the entire time you passed through security and boarding the flight. The flight was pretty decent, all things considered, and your heart caught in your throat when you finally saw the bright blue Italian water as you made your descent. You held your breath again as you made your way through customs, and in the taxi, and you finally, finally sighed when you made your way into the hotel room. It was small, just a king-size bed with a serviceable bathroom (with a tub, what a win), but the real showstopper was the balcony. It was tiny, hardly big enough for you to stand out on, but it overlooked the city, giving a beautiful view of Livorno and all she had to offer. You flopped down onto the bed, the balcony doors wide open, and you sighed again. Finally. A vacation. 

As per the vacation rules that you yourself had set, you took a nap, then got ready to go out. You didn’t usually fancy yourself a “going-out” type of girlie, but Italian nightclubs always looked so fun in movies and on TV. You had to experience it, before your better sense told you not to. In fact, your lesser sense told you that, even exhausted from the flight, going out would be good for you. You put on your favorite outfit, still smelling like your flat in London, and you hoped that it was chic enough for Livorno before you skipped out of the hotel room, making sure you had your key with you. 

The sun was just starting to set as you found a nightclub, close to your hotel but far enough to be unfamiliar. Once in, you adjusted to the low lights and pulsing music, and you wondered for a second if this was a bad idea. Not just the club, but the trip as a whole. You had considered your Italian to be pretty good, enough to survive in the country for a week, but the chattering around you was overwhelming. You couldn’t make out a single word, and you ground your back teeth as you steadied yourself on a barstool. Just order a drink, you told yourself. And fucking relax. 

Luckily, you didn’t have to take your chances on ordering something and wondering what the Italian name for it was. Before you could even grab the bartender’s attention, he set a glass down in front of you, a martini glass, filled with a clear drink with an olive. The bartender said something to you, something you could scarcely make out as “Something something, gentleman at the end of the bar, something something”, then turned back to his work. 

You expected to turn and see the type of guy Lily had mentioned, tanned and Italian and overall gorgeous, and, yes, the guy you locked eyes was gorgeous, but he was not tanned and Italian. He looked a little pale under the blue and purple lights, scruffy curls at the nape of his neck, a round nose, a crooked smile on his pink lips. He wore a buttoned shirt, the top two buttons undone, two thin chains around his freckled (and sunburnt?) neck, baggy jeans and white sneakers— an odd outfit, to be sure, but his handsome face and enigmatic energy made you smile at him and pull your head towards yourself, inviting him over. 

The first thing he said was “Hi there”. Thank God. English. And British, maybe? Something like that. You focused on the English. 

“Hi,” you said. “Thanks for the drink.” 

“Of course,” the guy said with a nod. “I hope you like martinis.” 

“Can I be honest?” you cringed, and you cast a glance at the drink before adding, “They’re not my favorite.” 

“Aw, shit,” he said with an abashed smile, shaking his head. “Well, what is your favorite? I’ll buy that for you.” 

“Oh, no, you don’t have to,” you said quickly. “I, umm, thanks for the offer, though.” 

The guy looked downtrodden, seeing your rejection, and he started to say, “Alright, then, umm, have a good night—“ but you stopped him with a hand on his arm. 

“No, no, that’s not—“ you started. “That’s just me saying that you don’t have to buy me a drink. Don’t go.” You don’t know why you said that to him, especially sounding so desperate, but he seemed into it, the cheeky smile returning to his face. 

“I won’t,” he said. “I’ll stay right here.” 

“What’s your name?” you asked, sliding the martini towards him, and he took it by the stem of the glass, looking at it contemplatively for a moment, as if considering what name to give you. 

“Joe.” 

“Joe?” you repeated. “Is that your final answer?” 

“Yes,” he said, smiling. “My name is Joe.” 

“I feel like you’re giving me a fake name,” you told him teasingly, tipping your head towards him. 

He rolled his eyes as he grinned, and he said, “My full name is Joseph, if that helps my credibility. But everyone calls me Joe.” 

“Alright, that makes me feel a little better,” you admitted. “Is there a surname?” 

“Mmm,” Joe hummed. “See, I don’t want to give you my surname.” 

“Why not?” you asked. 

“I want to maintain the mysterious stranger image that I’ve got going on,” Joe told you. “A handsome stranger sends you a drink and only shares certain information about himself; aren’t you curious to know more?” 

“Right,” you said. “That only makes you sound creepy. But also correct. Now, I wanna know everything about you.” 

“Maybe you will,” Joe shrugged. “Maybe you won’t.” 

“So, Mysterious Joe,” you started slowly, eyeing him up and down. He looked comfortable, leaned up against the bar, tapping his toe to the beat of the song, but his eyes were looking all around, over your shoulder and to the person next to you, before finally settling on your face as you spoke. It almost seemed as if he were looking for something— or someone. “What do you do?” 

“I’m an actor,” Joe answered easily, too easily. “I’m really famous, too, been in stuff that you’ve seen. You’ve seen my face before, I guarantee it.” 

That made you laugh. Joe smiled at you as you laughed at his words, and he said, “What, don’t you believe me?” 

“Not at all!” you said. 

“Good!” Joe said. “You shouldn’t!” 

“So, you’re not an actor,” you said, your laughter dying down with tiny giggles, and Joe’s cheeks turned a shade of pink under the lights. “Can I guess what you are?” 

“You can try,” Joe said. “But you’ll never guess it right.” 

“Maybe,” you started. “If you buy me an actual drink, you might convince me to drop the whole thing.” 

“Done, darling,” Joe said. “What do you want?” 

The night went mainly that way, laughing and joking with Joe, and he bought you your drinks all night. You complained every time he told the bartender to add your G&T to his tab, but Joe shook his head and insisted. The more you talked to him, the more you liked him; he was funny and very down to earth, always telling stories about his friends and family. You asked him what he was doing in Italy, and he said something about a vacation between big work events, although he didn’t elaborate what events they were. In fact, when it came to his work, he was very tight-lipped. Twice during the night, his phone went off, and he scowled at it before he declined a call from someone named “Alex”. When you asked— “Alex must really need to talk to you, surely?”— Joe shook his head. “Alex can wait,” he said. 

You weren’t sure at what point you decided that you wanted to sleep with him, but you eventually came to the realization that Joe also wanted that. He had stepped closer and closer until his hips nudged your knee as you sat on the barstool, and he carefully let his hand touch your thigh. You got the impression that he would have tugged his hand away had you expressed discomfort, and you just generally felt safe with him. He was an easy, laid-back sort of guy, and you liked that; those sorts of fellas were hard to find anywhere nowadays. Joe’s eyes canvased your body as you spoke, regaling a story from your uni days, and his gaze stopped at your lips, all of your lipstick having worn off onto the edge of your glass. 

Finally, Joe made his move. “Why don’t we go someplace more… I don’t know, quiet?” he asked, leaning forward and speaking into your ear to be heard over the music, and you nodded quickly, polishing off your drink with haste. “I’ll meet you out front, let me pay the tab.”

The night air outside was warm, and you checked your phone as you waited for Joe. It was just past one in the morning, no new calls or texts, just work emails that you promptly dismissed before you sighed. “Tired?” you heard Joe ask from behind you, and you shook your head. 

“Just… Work,” you said. “You know how it is.” 

“I do,” Joe nodded. Without the hustle and bustle of the club and the colored lights, you could finally see him properly, and you saw a subtle golden glow on his skin, faint freckles splashing his nose and cheeks, his rounded cheeks tinted pink. And his eyes. Jesus. You had seen that they were dark in the club, but outside, in the streetlight, you could finally see that they weren’t just brown. They were deep brown, dark brown, chocolate brown— neverending, hypnotizing. You felt your legs grow a little weak and, in your state of maybe one too many G&Ts, you blurted out, “You have nice eyes.”

“So do you,” Joe told you, putting a hand on your back, maybe to steady you or maybe to pull you closer. No matter why he did it, your hands went to his chest, and he drew you into him, his arms around your waist. “You’re beautiful.” 

“You should kiss me,” you told him, and Joe chuckled, brushing your hair out of your face.

“I think someone’s a little drunk,” Joe said fondly. “Where are you staying? I’ll walk you back.” 

“Umm,” you started. You couldn’t recall the name of the hotel you were at, and you went into your bag, searching for the room key that you knew had the name of the hotel on it. “This one. Here, I can’t pronounce it, I’d absolutely butcher it.” 

Joe took the key card in-between his fingers and looked at it, reading what was written, and he mumbled, “Oh, that’s close to here. C’mon, darling.” 

“How long are you in Livorno for?” you asked, carefully taking Joe’s hand in yours as you started your short walk. He instantly laced his fingers with yours, his hand big and warm and soft, and you felt yourself going warm at the thought of his hands all over you. 

“Just until Friday,” Joe told you. “Only a few more days. You?”

“Tonight’s actually my first night,” you told him. “I got in earlier today.”

“Oh, nice,” Joe said. “Well, I’m glad I got to meet you during the small window we have together.” 

“Likewise,” you told him. 

You kept small talk as you walked to your hotel, not going too deep into conversation like you had at the club, and Joe stopped himself as you approached your hotel. “Aren’t you coming up?” you asked, and Joe grimaced. 

“Not tonight, love,” he told you gently. “You’re drunk. It’s not right.” 

Although you were disappointed and pouted, you felt relieved that he had the good sense to recognize that and not try to take advantage of you in any way. “Fine,” you said. “Can I at least, like, get your phone number or something?”

Joe smiled softly. “Sure,” he said, and he told you an England-based number. You had glommed onto the fact that he was British, what with the accent and certain stories he told, but he had never told you where he lived. Now, you were narrowing in on him. You saved it in your phone as Italy Joe, and you grinned at him. 

“Can I get a goodbye kiss too?” you asked, and Joe chuckled. 

“You’re incorrigible, aren’t you?” he said. 

“Yeah, well, it’s my best quality,” you giggled. “Please?”

Joe locked eyes with you, and you shivered under his intense gaze. Carefully, he tugged you close to him again, and he gave your cheek a firm kiss before he drifted away. “Since you asked so nicely,” he whispered. “Good night, darling.”

“G’night,” you told him, and you went back into your hotel, dreams of the mysterious Joe already swimming around your head. You definitely were going to call him tomorrow.

[harrywavycurly]

What if Eddie’s Princess was obsessed with certain shows and she tried to talk to Eddie about them but he’s never seen them 😂

Hiii babes!! I love this idea so I hope you enjoy these random conversations Princess has with Eddie about her fave show (I went with Sons of Anarchy because it’s what I’m watching right now lol)💖

-find all things Eddie and Princess here✨

-I included a gif of Jax Teller aka Princess’s fave from the show just in case y’all haven’t seen it…and he’s just nice to look at🫠

*Eddie loves listening to you talk about your favorite show…even when he hasn’t ever seen it*

“He has this motorcycle…and he wears a vest like you do honey.” “Oh he has a vest? That’s nice baby…what do you want for dinner?” “He’s the vice president of this motorcycle gang…well they call it a club but it’s totally the mafia on two wheels…” “a motorcycle gang? Sounds exciting…sweetheart what are your thoughts on dinner?” “His name is Jax Teller.” “Baby…” “it’s so good I think you’d like it honey.” “You know what I’d really like Princess?…if you told me what you want for dinner…”

“Oh honey guess what happened in my show today.” “Uhhh someone’s motorcycle broke down and Jax had to come save the day?” “So close…someone kidnapped his son and now they have to go to Ireland!” “Ireland? The motorcycle gang is going to Ireland? That’s a far drive…” “Very funny…but yeah they are going to Ireland it’s that exciting?” “It sounds very exciting sweetheart…what’s the show called again?” “Sons of Anarchy…wanna watch it with me?” “Maybe…depends on if you’re just gonna be drooling over this Jax Teller dude the whole time.” “Oh I mean…it’s not just Jax there’s this dude named Opie he’s…a big dude…I like him.” “Yeah that’s a no for me baby…but you enjoy your show.”

“You ever think about getting a motorcycle?” “Uh no…why?” “No reason…just think you’d look really nice on one.” “Are…are you trying to live your Jax Teller fantasy baby? You wanna be with someone who has a motorcycle and wears leather?” “It’s not…a fantasy…it’s very doable…you have the leather already…” “just not the bike…” “I’m just saying I think you’d look good on one honey…” “right…yeah I’ll think about it Princess…”

“Hey baby how was your day? Did you finish your book?” “Hi honey…uh not exactly.” “Please tell me you didn’t spend all day watching that show…” “Did you know you and Jax both wear giant rings?” “Oh do we? Is that a good thing?” “It’s a very good thing…” “what do you say we go get some milkshakes?” “Maybe after this episode?” “Princess…” “it’s almost done…come watch it with me.” “Okay…is that one Jax? The blonde bombshell?” “Be nice.” “Sorry…sorry…jesus this shit is violent baby…” “it’s so good…”

[pollyna]

Around 1995.

Andrew does recive a lot of strange request, when he gets a new Admiral uniform to work on. Admiral Kazansky's one is almost innocent, if innocent is the way he's going to use it but that isn't something he should bother with. He asks for an internal pocket, on his left breast, large enough to fit three photographs, not visible to an outside eye and not impossible to reach/use because sometimes he's going to take the photos out to watch them. And it has to be done on both his jackets. Andrew has just the time to take a pick on the photos and the subjects are a young aviator and a kid. Probably Admiral Kazansky son's. He forgets pretty quickly about it, after another Admiral asks him for a modification to the zip of his pants because- Andrew doesn't finish to read the description.

June 2011

Admiral Kazansky has three stars on his jacket and their already talking about giving him a fourth one. Andrew doesn't know what this man does to get promoted this fast but, at least, he still doesn't make strange requests. Just his pocket, always the same size and measurements. It's unusual but sometimes it happens and when Admiral Kazansky himself walks in his shop he shouldn't be looking around to see for the kid, kids?, he always has a photo on him. There's another person with him but he surley isn't a kid but a captain and he's looking around the place like is the first time he sees it. It's certainly the first time Andrew sees him. The Admiral is nice and probably the less chatty of the group, signs on the line at the end of the page for six times and asks if the pocket is still doable. Andrew is going to answer that yes, it's a pocket not a two way lampo because receiving a blow job during a call is more important than the call itself! when the other man asks what pocket?

The one the Admiral has his sons photos in? Andrew answers and maybe he should really learn how to shut the fuck up because Kazansky's face is red and he looking everywhere but on the table. You totally have a pic of Bradley there don't you? he asks taking the jacket and opening the pocket with the most childish reaction Andrew has seen in a while. Oh Tom he murmurs before start laughing this man thinks I'm your son and you had a photo of me on you since 95?! God man if I could go back I would beat some sense in the instructor who gave you the callsign. Iceman my ass.

Andrew is looking at the picture and the man in front of him and yeah, he can see the resembles now. Just know he sees the wedding rings around their fingers and when the captain kisses the Admiral he lets him do. I love you, you big softy. But I'm going to find a better picture of us, all together, so you can stop going around with one that makes people think I'm your son or I'm dead. C'mon Admiral, we have place to be and things to do.

Admiral Kazansky smiles at him from half the shop away and they're outside before Andrew can check he sign it all. He shouldn't care, because he has so much work to do and so much strange requests to try and create but he almost let himself giggle a little because Admiral Kazansky is going around the world with the photos of his kid and his husband, safe and secure, just where his heart beats the strongest and it makes him strangley happy and proud of his work.

[subbyyang]

Drink Up - Ten/Yangyang

“Pee.”

Or - wait, what?

“Pee?”

“Yes, pee, I’ve said it, you can laugh” Yangyang said, getting a little cranky, embarrassment clear in the way he turned away from Ten, the tips of his ears nearly fuming.

A fill to the 96' Fest

“What?” Yangyang slurred as he stopped nuzzling Ten’s neck to attempt to look him in the eyes, his own vision blurring at the edges. 

“Is there any fantasy you have always wanted to try?” Ten asked again, quickly taking the wine glass from Yangyang’s hand before he spilled it all over their sofa. 

In the back of his mind he pondered on the ethics of getting his boyfriend drunk to ask him these sorts of questions but he knew Yangyang would never share it otherwise, too afraid of judgement. He was always like that, with clothes and makeup, with his singing, with his art - always afraid of being judged. But Ten would never do that, he just wanted to make him feel good, give him all he could possibly give him; and that included indulging in whatever kink he had. If only he would tell him. 

“Okay, I - I - just promise you won’t laugh?” Yangyang said quietly, eyes still a little unfocused after a long pause, cheeks flushed a bright red and not just from the alcohol. 

“Promise,” Ten said, a nervous knot in his stomach. God, why did Yangyang think he would laugh? What if he did?

A thousand scenarios were going through Ten’s mind, trying to prepare himself for whatever Yangyang was about to say. He couldn’t break his trust! Maybe he wanted to dress like a clown? Or worse, make Ten dress up as a clown! Or maybe he wanted to sit on balloons like that lady in that documentary Ten had seen? Or -

“Pee.”

Or - wait, what?

“Pee?” 

“Yes, pee, I’ve said it, you can laugh” Yangyang said, getting a little cranky, embarrassment clear in the way he turned away from Ten, the tips of his ears nearly fuming. 

“I’m not laughing,” Ten said, wrapping his arms around Yangyang’s frame - when had he gotten so broad? - placing his chin on his shoulder, “what about it do you like? Peeing on someone? Getting peed on?”

Ten punctuated his questions with soft kisses to Yangyang’s jaw, trying to bring him out of his shell again into that nice tipsy state he was in before, relief washing over him. He couldn’t say pee was really his kink but it was doable, especially if it would make his baby happy. 

Yangyang hesitated again, enjoying Ten’s kisses as the question turned around in his mind. He couldn’t believe Ten hadn’t laughed and even less that he wanted to know more about it. But still, that didn’t mean he wanted to try it, maybe he was just curious and would tease him about it after. 

“Baby,” Ten called out softly, hugging him tighter, “can you be good for me and tell me what you like about it?” 

Oh, Ten was using dirty tricks and he knew it but he wanted to know the answer and he couldn’t have Yangyang getting too shy again. 

“Actually it’s - it’s mostly pissing myself but - but I like the idea of getting peed on too,” Yangyang said, stumbling his way through his sentence, holding his breath waiting for Ten’s teasing.

“Oh,” Ten said with a sharp inhale, his mind running a mile a minute with image after image of Yangyang in different scenarios pissing himself, looking desperate and embarrassed as he did so. 

Ten had to admit it did paint a very pretty mental picture. But before he could get lost in thought, he felt Yangyang trying to move away from him, heart beating so hard in his chest, Ten could feel it jackhammering against his fingertips. Right, he was scared of his reaction.  

“Stay,” Ten said, tightening his hold on him until Yangyang stopped moving, “thank you for being such a good boy and telling me,” he continued, letting go of Yangyang so he could move to straddle his lap before kissing him deeply.

Yangyang melted into the kiss, wrapping his own arms around Ten’s waist, pulling him closer together. He felt a little more relaxed with Ten’s lips on his, not pulling away from him in disgust like he thought he would do, even if deep down he was still a little scared of his teasing. He whined as Ten pulled away from the kiss, covering his mouth with his hand to keep him from chasing after his lips.

“I think we should get some sleep so we wake up early tomorrow…something tells me you’re going to be very thirsty…”

“I am?” Yangyang asked dumbly, nearly crossing his eyes as he stared up at Ten, his mind struggling to wrap around what Ten was implying.

“You are, oh so thirsty… but that’s okay, I’ll bring you a nice, cold jug of water first thing in the morning…you’ll be good and drink it all for me, right?”

— —

“Wake up,” Ten whispered in Yangyang’s ear before peppering his neck in kisses, “come on, baby…open your eyes for me…”

“What?” Yangyang croaked, turning away from the light and burying himself under the covers.

“Up,” Ten said, pulling the covers away from Yangyang, laughing at the way he whined, blindly reaching for them, “see how annoying it is when you do this?” 

Yangyang finally opened his eyes so he could scowl at Ten, eyes softening and whatever complaints he had getting stuck in his throat when Ten kissed his forehead and called him a good boy. Reluctantly he sat up, wiping the last of sleep from his eyes before Ten was on him again, wrapping his arms around him from the side and pulling him into his chest as Yangyang did his best to remind his brain there were no cameras around and he could relax into Ten’s embrace. 

“Go pee,” Ten whispered in Yangyang’s ear as he slid one hand down to his lower abdomen and pressed down, “I want you starting on an empty bladder”.

That seemed to do the trick in fully waking Yangyang up, eyes opening wide as he tried to turn sideways in Ten’s arms. “You meant it?” Yangyang asks, voice small and hopeful as he looked Ten in the eyes, looking for any sign Ten was teasing him. He didn’t think Ten would do that, he liked teasing him but he wasn’t cruel, but still, it was still hard to believe Ten really was on board with this. 

“Of course I meant it,” Ten said, holding himself back from scoffing at the doubt in Yangyang’s tone. He had to remind himself of how nervous he had been the night before, his heart nearly beating out of his chest as he trusted him with something he had kept to himself for so long. His gaze softened as he pushed Yangyang down on the bed before climbing on top of him, “can’t wait to see you all desperate, begging me to let you piss yourself,” Ten purred, circling his hips above Yangyang’s before leaning down for a kiss. 

Before Yangyang could get too lost in the kiss, Ten was pulling away and climbing off of him, much to Yangyang’s complaining.

“Stop whining and go pee ,” Ten said with a laugh as he pushed Yangyang away, nearly causing him to fall from the bed. 

In the bathroom, Yangyang relaxed as he aimed into the bowl, a soft sigh leaving his lips as the first drops came out, followed by a steady jet. It felt good after a full night but it would feel so much better after being deprived of it for much longer - just thinking about it was causing his skin to break out in goosebumps and his cock threatening to start hardening in his hands. He had tried to do it by himself, hold his pee in for as long as he could handle but he never lasted too long, too weak to force himself to hold it. He needed someone to be firm with him, someone like Ten. He walked back into the room, blushing at the way Ten was looking at him, as promised, a big jug of water and a full glass in his hands.

“Drink up, baby, drink as much as you can,” Ten said as he handed Yangyang the full glass. He carded his fingers through his messy bed hair as he drank the whole glass, smiling sweetly at him when he poured himself another. He was always so good, Ten wondered if he would be this obedient when the desperation took over his brain. “Good boy,” Ten purred once Yangyang had downed the whole jug, taking the glass from his hand and kissing his cheek, “should we get some breakfast?”

— —

It had been easy at first. Piece of cake. Ten had fed him soup and kept giving him water and juice throughout the day and it wasn’t until mid-afternoon that Yangyang had started to feel a small pressure in his bladder. 

“It’s starting,” Yangyang warned, just like Ten had told him to do, heat burning in his stomach at the look Ten was giving him. 

“Good boy,” Ten said, loving the way Yangyang’s cheeks were dusted in pink at the praise, “have another one for me…”

Yangyang did as he was told, how could he not? It excited him knowing he was only going to get more and more desperate from then on and he just couldn’t wait. He asked Ten if he could have a second glass, even if he wasn’t thirsty at all at the moment just so he could speed things along. Ten happily poured him another one, watching intently as he drank the whole thing before lying back down on the sofa, patting the spot in front of him so Yangyang could lie down as well.

Not even an hour later and Yangyang was starting to regret the extra glass of water he had taken. The pressure in his bladder was only getting stronger and, as much as he tried to wriggle around, he couldn’t find a comfortable position.

“Calm down,” Ten said, wrapping his arms around Yangyang’s waist, hands splayed over his lower stomach. 

“Ten,” Yangyang whimpered when Ten pressed down on his tummy, right above his bladder, stomach muscles contracting under his touch as his hands shot out to grab onto Ten’s wrists, “please, hurts,” he mumbled, finishing off his sentence with another whimper.

“Oh? Does it hurt, baby? I’m sorry, I’ll stop,” Ten said - voice dripping with so much sweetness it made Yangyang suspicious - reducing the pressure on his stomach but leaving his hands there, petting the soft skin, “ if you drink another glass”.

Fuck. Yangyang knew it.

“I can’t,” Yangyang whined, getting more and more desperate the more he concentrated on his need to pee. He felt so full he couldn’t imagine himself drinking another full glass of water but Ten was looking at him in that way that he knew meant he didn’t have much of a choice.

“What if I make you some tea? It will help you relax, maybe you’ll even be able to take a little nap…”

Yangyang recognized a losing battle when he saw one so he just nodded, unable to stop the small smile on his lips when Ten kissed his forehead and showered him in praise. He sat back as he watched Ten prepare him his tea, trying his best to distract himself from his full bladder. 

“There you go, your favorite,” Ten said, truly sweetly this time as he handed him his mug. Yangyang couldn’t stop himself from smiling as the scent of the tea hit his nose - it really was his favorite. It was sweet that Ten remembered how he liked his tea. It would have been sweeter if Ten wasn’t doing it on purpose to torture him but Yangyang would take what he could get. 

After giving it a couple of minutes for the tea to cool down and for himself to get ready, Yangyang downed half of the tea with a deep breath. His stomach shouldn’t feel this full, considering how much time had passed since he had drank the water, but it did. It was hard for him to move and if it wasn’t for Ten petting up and down his back and kissing the top of his head, pushing him into finishing his tea with soft praises, he probably would have put the mug down. 

“Just one more, baby,” Ten cooed, carding his fingers through Yangyang’s hair, scritching at the scalp, “one more big gulp and you’ll be done with it…” 

It was hard saying no when Ten was being so incentivizing. Yangyang just wanted to be good, to keep hearing those sweet praises whispered against his skin, wanted to make Ten proud. So he took one last big gulp, finishing all of the tea before looking back up at Ten, eager for Ten’s approval. 

“So good for me, you listen to me so well,” Ten praised, taking the mug from Yangyang’s hand and putting it down on the coffee table before turning back to him, taking his hands in his. They felt warm and clammy in his own and now that Ten was really looking at him he could see the slightly unfocused look in his eyes, his face glistening with sweat. 

It was probably time to move things to their bedroom. The last thing Ten wanted was for Yangyang to piss himself in the middle of their living room, risking Kun walking in on them. No one was allowed to see Yangyang this desperate, it was for his eyes only. 

“Can you move? I think we should go inside, we can finish our show there”.

Yangyang just nodded, more than happy to go to his bedroom, his stomach exploding in butterflies at the thought of what was probably about to happen. He didn’t give a shit whether they finished the show or not, it’s not like he had been paying attention for the last twenty minutes. Still, he let himself be led by the hand, face twisting in discomfort when he got up, somehow the pressure on his bladder getting worse. 

“You’re doing so well, baby, come on, follow me…”

Yangyang had to do a double take as he entered his bedroom, both the floor and his bed covered in towels and puppy pads. Bella’s old puppy pads . Ten looked back at him, a sheepish look on his face as he saw what Yangyang was staring at.

“It’s the best I could find last minute…now go lie down…” 

Yangyang sat down, a whimper catching in his throat as he felt a sharp jab on his bladder, his legs clamping shut as he took a deep breath. 

“Oh, is it getting worse?” Ten fake cooed as he looked up from the computer before quickly finishing setting up the show they had been watching.

He watched as Yangyang nodded pitifully, an idea forming in his mind. With the sweetest smile he could muster he put the show back on before sitting on the bed, half laying against the headboard, legs spread out and patted the space in front of him. “Come here, it will be easier if you’re not fully lying down…and take your pants off too”

In his pain and discomfort, Yangyang missed the glint in Ten’s eyes as he did as he was told, removing his sweat pants and sitting between Ten’s spread legs, leaning back against his chest. By the time he realized his mistake it was too late and Ten’s hands were already on his hips, so so close to his bladder, massaging his soft skin. 

“Ten, I - please I can’t -“ 

“Shh, watch the show…and pay attention, there will be questions at the end”.

Yangyang wanted to fight back, complain that it was impossible but he knew better than to disobey Ten. So he tried to get as comfortable as possible, legs crossed shut as he took deep breaths, concentrating on the screen. At least Ten’s hands had stayed put on his hips. It wasn’t as bad now that he was actually focusing on the show instead of his bladder, only feeling a sharp pang every couple of minutes, his body tensing whenever that happened, causing Ten to kiss the top of his head. He was lulled into a false sense of security, uncrossing his legs and relaxing against Ten’s body when he felt it. He hadn’t realized Ten’s hands had slowly moved throughout the episode, now lying comfortably above his lower stomach. His body tensed up as another sharp pang hit his bladder almost at the same time as Ten pressed down on it, causing his body to lock up, legs snapping closed once again, one hand quickly grabbing at Ten’s wrists while the other flew to his cock.

“Spread them,” was all Ten said as he continued pressing down on his abdomen in circular motions, ignoring the way Yangyang’s nails were digging into the soft skin of his wrists, leaving behind angry red half-moon indentations.

“I - I can’t,” Yangyang cried out, wanting to look back at Ten but it was too painful.

“You can, spread them before I do it myself,” Ten said, voice firm and maybe even a little mean, “and don’t you dare piss yourself yet”.

He waited as Yangyang tried to calm himself down, almost moving his hands from his hips to his thighs when Yangyang started obeying him, slowly opening his legs, whole body trembling as whimpers fell uninterruptedly from his lips. He sounded so cute like this and Ten was only sad he couldn’t see his face in this position. But he could imagine. His blotchy red cheeks, his eyes brimming with tears already - it was so easy to make him cry.

“Good boy,” Ten conceded, voice sweet once again as he kept one hand on his bladder, every now and then pressing down on it (loving the way it made Yangyang gasp), while the other hand traveled inside his shorts. He was delighted to feel Yangyang was hard already, of course he was. Not fully hard, no, but enough he could tell he was enjoying it. He touched him slowly, wrapping his hand around his cock, moving it up and down as he kept pressing down on his bladder, his own cock stirring in his shorts at the desperate noises coming out of Yangyang’s mouth. 

“Ten, I - I won’t be able to hold it, I -“ Yangyang cried out, eyes closed shut, sweat dripping from his forehead. Ten’s hand on his bladder was unrelenting, pressing down on it as he jerked him off at the same time, the mix of pleasure and pain getting him closer and closer to the edge. 

“Not yet, baby, not yet,” Ten cooed, lightly lifting his hand from Yangyang’s stomach, “you can do it, you can be good for me,” he continued, laying his hand back down, petting his stomach. He didn’t know if he was imagining things but he almost felt like his tummy was bulging where his bladder was. He must have been feeling so so full , Ten couldn’t wait for him to lose control.

Yangyang let out a little confused noise as Ten moved them around, pulling on his arm until he was kneeling on the bed, straddling Ten’s thigh. Ten could feel the desperate energy coming out of him in waves as he squirmed around, looking down at him with such big, round eyes, eyelashes clumped together with teardrops. And then Ten was pushing his thigh up, right on top of his hard cock, one hand going back to his stomach.

“So swollen,” Ten purred as he pressed down, causing Yangyang to cry out, trying and failing to close his legs, “it’s like you’re ready to burst, poor thing,” he cooed before pulling Yangyang down by the chin into a soft kiss.

“Ten, please, let me - let me -“

“Ride my thigh,” Ten interrupted, whispering in Yangyang’s ear before kissing up and down his jaw, fingers deftly pressing onto his bladder. 

Ten’s own cock was rock hard inside his clothes as Yangyang did as he was told. Even if he couldn’t stop whimpering, face buried in Ten’s neck as he tried his best not to piss himself, he still did as Ten told him, always so obedient for him.

“You’re being so good for me,” Ten cooed, wrapping one arm around his waist while petting his hair with the other, “are you going to cum or piss first, baby?”

“Don’t know,” Yangyang whined, letting himself get lost in the pleasure of Ten’s toned thigh right on his cock until he felt something trickle out, “it’s - it’s coming out,” Yangyang said, voice laced in panic as he looked into Ten’s eyes, hands scrambling to hold onto his cock, squeezing it as hard as he could. He felt hot new tears cascading down his cheeks as he searched Ten’s eyes for any sign of disappointment. He wanted to be good for him but he didn’t know if he would be able to hold it any longer. 

“You can hold it a little more for me,” Ten said softly, wrapping one hand around Yangyang’s on his cock.

“I - I can’t,” Yangyang sobbed, once again unable to think of anything else other than the sharp pangs of pain in his bladder and the pee threatening to come out at any moment. 

“Just a little bit, I know you can,” Ten cooed, using his free hand to wipe the tears from Yangyang’s cheeks, immediately replaced by new ones, “touch me,” he continued as he tried to pull on one of Yangyang’s wrists, causing him to lock up, thighs tightening around Ten’s. 

Ten’s eyes softened even more at the sight of Yangyang shaking his head, hand tightly wrapped around his own cock, silently begging him not to make him move. He was too cute for his own good sometimes.

“I’m holding onto you, baby, go on, I got you”.

Yangyang took a deep breath, trembling all over as he let go of his own cock, relieved to feel Ten’s hand taking his place, squeezing the base of his cock with one hand as the other petted his thigh. With shaky hands he slid both hands inside Ten’s clothes, grabbing his hard cock. The thought of Ten getting this hard over him feeling desperate to pee made something twist inside him in excitement. 

“That’s it, good boy, don’t stop,” Ten breathed out, sliding his free hand all the way to Yangyang’s mouth, petting his lips softly before pushing two fingers inside, moaning when Yangyang’s warm tongue wrapped around them, covering them in spit. When he considered them wet enough, Ten removed his fingers, sliding them into Yangyang’s underwear, leading them to his waiting hole. 

Yangyang let out a groan at the burn when Ten pushed his two fingers inside him, spit not making the best of lubes. Another sharp pang hit his stomach and Yangyang dipped down, crashing his lips onto Ten’s, desperate for a distraction from his bladder. He hoped Ten wasn’t planning on fucking him before letting him piss. No matter how good he always wanted to be for Ten, Yangyang knew he wouldn’t be able to last that long, Ten’s hand on his cock probably the only thing holding him back. 

“Sit on my lap properly,” Ten breathed out against Yangyang’s lips as they pulled away from the kiss, fingers lazily fucking into Yangyang’s tight hole. 

“I - I can’t,” Yangyang whined, stomach cramping just at the thought of spreading his legs again. 

“One last effort, baby, I know you can do it, come on…”

After a small pause and with a shaky breath, Yangyang slowly shifted, passing one leg over Ten’s until he was sitting in his lap, straddling him, body trembling more and more each second. He leaned forward, hiding his face in the crook of Ten’s neck, breathing in deeply, trying to calm himself down, an impossible task once Ten started insistently prodding at his prostate, ripping desperate moan after desperate moan out of him. 

“Ten, please, I - I can’t,” Yangyang whimpered, letting go of Ten’s cock so he could wrap his arms around his waist, hugging him close to him, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in the warmth and comfort of Ten’s body. His tears had soaked through Ten’s thin cotton shirt, a wet patch covering his shoulder. In the back of his mind he could hear Ten cooing at him, offering some comfort with his words but nothing was getting to him anymore; he was in too much pain, a continuous pang in his bladder now that Ten was teasing his prostate so relentlessly, as if he was poking his bladder himself. 

“Yangyang, baby, are you listening to me?” Ten said after a moment, realizing Yangyang was too lost in his own head. He stopped moving his fingers and was about to take them out of his ass completely when Yangyang nodded, a soft, wet ‘yes’ whispered into his skin. 

“I’m listening,” Yangyang said, slowly lifting his head, eyes locked with Ten’s, a quiet moan leaving his lips when Ten went back to rubbing slow circles inside him. 

“I’m gonna let go of you now,” Ten said, smiling at the confusion in Yangyang’s face. God, he was beautiful . 

Slowly, he let go of his cock, quiet shushing sounds falling from his lips when Yangyang reached for his wrist, eyes closed tight.

“It’s okay, baby, let go,” Ten cooed, pulling his wrist from Yangyang’s hold before cupping his cheek, bringing him closer so he could kiss him. He had held on much longer than Ten had expected and now it was time to make him feel good, “ let go ,” he repeated, eyes boring into Yangyang’s, hoping the meaning of his words would manage to pierce through the mental fog, fingers speeding up inside Yangyang nearly causing his hand to cramp up. It was worth it though.

“Let go?” Yangyang asked in a small, desperate voice, a hint of recognition behind his hazy eyes, chest heaving as he subconsciously ground down on Ten’s lap. He searched Ten’s eyes for the answer, for the confirmation he had understood correctly, feeling his tummy reeling in excitement when Ten nodded, repeating under his breath for him to let go.

Nothing happened at first, leaving Ten wondering if Yangyang had understood and then Yangyang was closing his eyes, hips thrusting up into the air, new fresh tears sliding down his cheeks as soft whimpers left his lips. Ten looked down, breath stuck in his throat when he saw the small wet stain on Yangyang’s boxer briefs, gradually getting bigger and bigger. Okay, fuck, this was happening. Without much thought he slid his hand from where it was still cupping Yangyang’s cheek, thumb rubbing the overheated skin, all the way down to his clothed cock, cupping him over his underwear. He thought maybe he should be disgusted by the hot wetness he found but no, instead all he could think about was how cute Yangyang looked thrusting against his hand, hole clenching around his fingers, breathy moans falling from his lips interrupted by small sobs and whispered ‘thank yous’. And then his own lap started feeling warmer and he looked down to see Yangyang’s pee had leaked down, soaking into his sweatpants. If his cock twitched and drooled some precum at the feeling, no one had to know. 

“That’s it, piss all over my lap like the gross baby you are,” Ten said with a laugh, pressing down and rubbing Yangyang’s cock over his underwear, a pleasant fire twisting in his own stomach at the all encompassing warmth of his piss all over their laps. 

Yangyang felt euphoric, moans cascading from his lips uninterruptedly, as if he had absolutely no control over them or himself. It felt so good to finally be able to let go, to finally feel that constant stream come out of him, alleviating his suffering bladder. His cock was so hard inside his boxers and the way Ten was touching him, rubbing the wet fabric over his sensitive skin, fingers massaging his prostate so deliciously, wasn’t helping. He feared he might cum as soon as he was finished peeing, that's how close to the edge he was, Ten’s teasing words ringing in his ears, causing his cheeks to burn bright red. 

“ Fuck, look at you ,” Ten moaned, squeezing Yangyang’s cock, thrusting his soaking wet crotch up against Yangyang, “all this was inside of you? No wonder you were all swollen…” 

“Wanna cum, please,” Yangyang sobbed, eyes shutting once again, the stream finally decreasing as he relieved the last of his bladder. 

“Yeah? Are you done pissing? Go on them, cum for me,” Ten whispered, rubbing Yangyang’s cock harder and fingering him faster, before crashing their lips together in a fiery kiss, his tongue pushing his way inside Yangyang’s mouth, swallowing all the fucked out noises falling from his lips. 

Yangyang came with a desperate whine, cringing at the cum pooling in his boxers, making even more of a mess inside his soiled clothes. He leaned forward, forehead bumping against Ten’s as they let their heavy breaths mingle together, almost as if they were breathing into each other’s mouths. Before Yangyang could say anything Ten was manhandling him onto his back, climbing on top of him, rutting against his hip, peppering his neck and jaw with kisses, whispering praises into his skin as he chased his own pleasure. 

“Fuck, you made such a mess, baby,” Ten breathed out, heat pooling in his stomach at the feeling of their wet crotches rubbing together, at knowing it was Yangyang’s piss. 

As he felt his orgasm approach, Ten sat up on his knees, quickly pulling his cock out of his sweatpants, jerking himself once, twice, before cumming all over Yangyang’s stomach with a low groan. He stood above Yangyang, looking down into those eyes he loved so much and then remembered something he had said the night before. Not letting go of his cock, he got closer to Yangyang, aiming at his chest before taking a deep breath and letting go.

Yangyang stared wide eyed, a guttural moan punched out of him as the first warm drops hit his stomach. He didn’t think Ten would go this far. It made his stomach twist, in excitement and shame and something else, something deeper and animalistic, the feeling of being marked, owned. As the jet got stronger, spraying him all over his chest, so so warm , Yangyang threw his head back, moaning softly, hands rubbing at his chest and stomach. God, this was so embarrassing but felt so good.

Ten watched in awe as Yangyang lost himself in the moment, rubbing Ten’s piss into his skin, cock pathetically twitching between his legs, hips lightly bucking into the air. He looked gorgeous and wild and Ten couldn’t look away. But then Yangyang was staring at him with big, pleading eyes, removing his boxer briefs and spreading his legs for him, looking like an absolute dream. Ten quickly turned back into their nightstand, grabbing their lube before lubing himself up, throwing Yangyang’s legs over his shoulders, diving down for a bruising kiss.

“Who do you belong to?” Ten asked, voice raspy and low.

“You,” Yangyang breathed out, throwing his arms around Ten’s neck and pulling him into another kiss, “I’m all yours, look, you marked me”.

Happy with his response, Ten pushed in, bending down for another kiss as a way to shush Yangyang’s slightly pained whimpers, moaning into his mouth at the wet, sticky feeling of his own piss and cum drying in Yangyang’s chest. He never thought this was something he would enjoy but today had opened his eyes. 

With quick, brutal thrusts and bruising kisses, it didn’t take long for either of them to reach their climax again. Yangyang came first, as he usually did, always desperate and needy, his cum adding to the mess on his stomach. He lowered his legs, wrapping them around Ten’s waist, encouraging him to keep going as overstimulated whimpers fell from his lips. Ten came with a moan as Yangyang pulled on his hair, leaning down for a softer, lazy kiss once his breathing had slowed down. 

“Did I do well?” Yangyang asked, looking deeply into Ten’s eyes, a little nervous to hear his response.

“Oh, you were so good, baby, held on for so long for me,” Ten cooed, brushing Yangyang’s sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

“Can’t believe you did that for me,” Yangyang said after a quiet pause, eyes crinkling as he smiled up at Ten, “thank you”.

“Anything for you, baby,” Ten replied, kissing Yangyang’s exposed forehead before nuzzling his neck, “we need to clean up,” Ten said with a playful grimace, touching Yangyang’s chest to show how sticky it had become. 

“Shower with me?”

“How could I say no to that?” Ten said with a laugh, helping an unstable Yangyang to his feet before making their way to the bathroom.