#this is not a straightforward ship in this fic

[7sevenrings7]

Young and Menace - Chapter 1 Snippet

Hyperfixating on Hazbin Hotel? It's more likely than you think!

This is a snippet from "Young and Menace" - a reader insert fanfic pairing the reader (AFAB, she/her pronouns) with Alastor, Lucifer, and, eventually, Lilith.

Some at the same time? We'll see...full first chapter to be posted to ao3 next week.

You arrive in Hell with no memory of who you are, where you've come from, or how you got there. Oh well. Might as well settle into your afterlife. There's just one problem...

You're still alive.

Note: This x reader does NOT use Y/N - you are referred to as "Liv," but this is recognized as a nickname as you do not recall your actual name.

“Alright, my ace in the hole.” Rosie’s voice carried before becoming clear as she cast open the door. You shifted nervously as you sat on your bed. “Meet my other ace in the hole!”

Alastor was the worst demon you had seen yet. If your fear had been any less, you would have been able to scream.

As it was, you could only stare at him as if he were the personification of a train wreck you could not tear yourself away from.

It was his smile. A creepy, cheek-ridden smile. Yellowed teeth as large and as pointed as knives sat between lips spread what seemed painfully tight. His skin was darker than Rosie’s with eyes that were as red as blood and just as cold. He might have been Hell itself with how red dominated his person from his fluffy hair to his evening attire. What could have been ears framed two small antlers sprouting straight from his head. 

Later, much later in the quiet of the night still shaking from this very encounter, you would realize that his smile never wavered.

It did tremble, however - at least when he first saw you. The possibly-but-not-definitely-not-ears on his head went flat and you saw what seemed to be the shadow of radio dials turning instead of those red eyes. 

But then you blinked and Alastor’s smile was relaxed and warm…

...and growing larger as he approached you swinging a short-staffed microphone in his hand.

It, like the rest of him, was red.

“So…you’re alive.”

Rosie had implied Alastor had a unique voice. “Like butter!” she had claimed. Only it was far less sweet and far more static and sickening charm laid on thicker than thick. 

“I…seem to be,” you admitted, quietly. Almost reverently. 

Tilting his head at an angle too sharp to be normal, Alastor chuckled. “Maybe you were a comedian, my dear girl. No theories? No rogue memories flitting around in that pretty head of yours?”

By the time he finished speaking, he was immediately in front of you with a crimson-clawed hand patting your head patronizing and popping. 

You didn’t like it. Any of it. He reminded you of a cheap car salesman. 

“I don’t know who I am or how I got here if that’s what you’re asking,” you said, trying to ward the fear from your voice. “I remember life on Earth but…nothing stable. Nothing…nothing that tells me anything about myself.”

“Curious,” said Alastor, rounding you with eyes that were sharp as they were searching. “Very curious.”

“So, you remember that princess that I was telling you about, Liv?” asked Rosie. “The one with the hotel? ‘Member?”

Squinting as if trying to physically see the memory, you grimaced. “Um…it was…Lucifer’s daughter?”

“Bingo!” Rosie shouted. “Well Alastor helps run the place and it just got HUGE upgrades thanks to Mr. Big Man in Damned Demand. I was thinking…since they’re all about redemption…maybe they could help you more than I could.”

With a pause, Rosie turned to Alastor. “I’ve tried it all, Alastor. I don’t know how Liv ended up here but it was something bad done by something even badder. I thought she’d remember something by now but…zilch. And it’s not safe for her to stay here. I’ve done what I could to keep rumors from making it to the mill but she’s a very amnesiac steak in a town of ravenous wolves. Least there’s you at the hotel. She won’t worry for safety.”

At first you thought Alastor meant to remain silent. He merely stood staring at you with those terrible eyes, fingers shifting his microphone staff back and forth. 

But then he glanced to Rosie. 

“If there’s anyone who could get this poor soul her memory back, it’s Charlie.”

Weird, you thought. He kind of sounded sincere there.

Rosie hugged Alastor by his side before releasing him to clap her hands.

“Thank you, Alastor! Oh, you don’t know how happy I am that you’re back! Things are gonna be changing around here.”

Your heart might have stopped when a curl of Alastor’s lip revealed grayed gums. 

“Oh,” he said, static simmering around him. “Yes, they are.”

[musical-chick-13]

What if I made this as off-putting as possible instead of romantic.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Note: The fic gets a bit saucy, so A18+ ONLY just to be safe!

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out

CW: MDNI!, kissing, making out, boobs, fondling, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon

Its mid-afternoon in the UA library. The early Spring sunlight is streaming through the tall windows and across the sci-fi novel you're flipping through. You sigh; content to finally have a Saturday off after a grueling few weeks of classes, training and internship activities.

You think back to a particularly tough training session that had taken place the day before - you had finally kicked Shoto Todoroki's ass in front of the whole class. You smile as you remember the shocked look on his face as you reached down to help him back to his feet.

"You had it coming, hot stuff." You winked as he grabbed your hand and let you pull him back to standing position. His face had flushed red in humiliation at the loss.

You're suddenly jerked out of your reverie when a figure looms over you, casting a long shadow on the desk before you. You turn, startled. As if pulled from your daydream, Shoto Todoroki has materialized before you – tall and handsome. You look up at him in surprise, mouth half open.

"I think we should kiss." Shoto's deep voice says above you, his tone neutral.

"Huh?" Your mouth drops fully open. Shoto is looking down at you with eyes alight with determination. That cute blush is back - splashed across his pale cheeks and across his aristocratic nose.

"I was thinking back to our fight yesterday, and the reason why I lost. It was because I was thinking about kissing you the whole time. I let myself get distracted. I think that if we kissed, I could get over it and refocus on training." So matter-of-fact! That was one thing you liked about Shoto - he was straightforward.

"Um...okay." With an effort, you close your gaping mouth. You’re absolutely dumbfounded. Shoto has never shown any romantic interest in you before. You’ve never caught wandering eyes on you in class, he’s never stashed a love note in your locker. None of the typical school love tropes have been leveraged here. If anything, the two of you are loose acquaintances on the cusp of being friends. Maybe a few more months of class and group activities together would have helped you bridge the gap and fully form a decent friendship.

You wonder if he’s been into you all this time, or if this is just a whim he’s exploring. Either way - who are you to let an opportunity to kiss a hot guy go by the wayside? You snap your book shut and stand. "You want to do this right now?"

Shoto nods, and turns to walk away with the expectation that you’ll follow. You get up and sweep your things into your bag, heart beating double time. You quickly jog to catch up with Shoto – he’s already out the door. The two of you walk across the UA grounds in silence, your footsteps falling into a soft rhythm.  Your mind is going at a million miles per minute – could this all be an elaborate prank? Shoto has never struck you as the type to play a cruel joke on a classmate. Quite the opposite – when he’s not training he seems so soft and sweet. He strikes you as more of an introvert than anything else. He keeps people at a safe distance. You’ve always been under the impression that when it comes to Shoto, trust is earned, not freely given.

You wonder if this kissing business means that you’ve earned a bit of that trust? Who’s to say.

“So…” you say, attempting to break the tension. “Where are we going?” 

Shoto looks back at you, confused. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to my dorm room.”

“Oh.” You pause. “Wouldn’t that be a bit inappropriate? Like, what if someone catches us kissing in your dorm room? Won’t we get in trouble?”

“I’ll lock the door.” He says sensibly. “It’s no one’s business but ours.”

“Huh.”

“Oh – I think I understand what you’re getting at.” He runs a hand through his hair reflexively. “It’s no wonder you’re one of the top members of the class. A good hero always has a strategy. So we should come up with an alibi.” He brings his thumb to his chin as he stares into space, pondering.

“If someone catches us, I can say that I experimentally froze my lips with my power and that I asked you to help me warm them up. Naturally, the best way to do so was with your lips.” He turns to you expectantly to gauge your reaction.

What the actual hell, Shoto.                              ��                           

“You’re um…you’re fucking with me, right?” You look at him uncertainly. Shoto’s unusually harsh upbringing has caused him to be shockingly literal at times. Your eyes scan his face until the corner of his mouth quirks upwards into a small smile.

“Yes, I am.”

You burst out laughing at the unexpected joke, and his tiny smile grows into a full grin. He likes making you laugh.

“Listen…” He says reassuringly, “No one is going to bother us – it’s such a nice day. I overheard some of the girls saying they were going to take pictures near the campus cherry blossom trees. They roped Midoriya, Ida and a few other classmates into the activity as well. Bakugo, Kirishima and Sero are all training across campus in the gym. We should have at least an hour or two before anyone comes seriously looking for us.”

Wow. That must be the longest group of sentences he’s ever said to you directly.

“You’ve really thought this through.” You say, following him across the threshold of Class 1A’s dorm complex.

He smirks. “I’m strategic.”

You look at him appraisingly. He looks clean and trim in his tailored UA uniform. Aside from the scar surrounding his eye, he has the most perfect skin of anyone in your class. While the rest of your classmates have been stressing about moisturizer and SPF and acne treatments, you’ve watched Shoto sail through his hormonal teens without a skincare care in the world. The skin of his cheeks is the color of porcelain and looks so, so soft and deliciously kissable. His face holds a mixture of determination and apprehension.

You enter the kitchen and common room area of your dorm and see that it’s completely, blessedly empty - odd for a Saturday. Shoto is right - it is one of the first nice spring days on campus. You assume everyone is out enjoying the nice weather as he said. This is a good thing – it means your clandestine meeting with Shoto can stay secret. Everyone in Class 1A can be so nosy sometimes. You’re determined to keep this juicy little secret between the two of you.

He leads you up towards one of the hallways that encompasses the boy’s dorms, pausing in front of his door to fiddle with his key. His usually steady hands are shaking a bit as he turns the lock and pushes open the door to reveal his immaculately clean bedroom with it’s traditional Japanese décor.

You step inside and slide off your shoes, letting your bag drop to the floor.

“I forgot how traditional your space is, Shoto.”

He closes the door behind you and clicks the lock into place before discarding his keys on his desktop. He looks around the dorm room thoughtfully.

“It’s how I grew up. I never really had the chance to develop my own taste or style.”

“Maybe now that you have your own space, you finally can!” You say enthusiastically. “If you’d ever like to go shopping or want help putting together a Pinterest board, Mina and I can definitely help you find some inspiration.”

His flat line of a mouth quirks up into another small smile. “I haven’t really had the time to think about anything other than school work and the L.o.V. since we moved into the dorms. Maybe you’re right – this could be an opportunity to broaden my horizons. See what I like.”

“Yeah! There are so many fun ways you can bring more of yourself into this space. We can start with a throw pillow.” You say knowledgably, pulling up the Pinterest app on your phone. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue.”

You type the color into the search bar, and immediately the screen is flooded with hundreds of different shades of blue throw pillows – all kinds of patterns and sayings and beading and embroidery. You hand him your phone and encourage him to scroll through the options.

“I’m sure we can find something that makes you feel like you.”

His eyes soften a bit as he takes the phone from you, intrigued. He scrolls through the colorful images, overwhelmed by the options. After a few minutes of careful deliberation, he finally stops and double taps a picture, hyperlinking to a website.

“This. This feels like it could be me.” He sends himself the link so he can purchase the pillow later. He hands back your phone and you take a curious look – the image he’s drawn to is a long rectangle of fabric shaped like a whale. It has navy blue stripes along with a small curved tale and button eyes sewn on. You look up and see that the tips of Shoto’s ears are bright red.

“This isn’t what I was expecting – but I see now that it suits you perfectly.” You say, picturing the whale pillow in his room – a dash of whimsy against the otherwise stuffy outdated décor.  He practically glows at the compliment. You realize that this is likely one of the first times someone is validating a choice he has made for himself. You cough and toss your phone into your discarded bag – the moment feels oddly intimate.

Shoto’s eyes scan across your face and he speaks his next words slowly, almost deliberately. “This is what I’ve always liked about you, y/n. You always seem to know what to say to get someone to smile or to open up. Admirable traits in a future hero.” You feel your own face heating up at the sweet compliment. Shoto has never given you so much direct attention outside of class, and it’s exciting and almost unnerving to have those two intense eyes focused in entirely on you.

“Thank you Shoto, that’s a very kind thing to say.” You suddenly realize how very close Shoto’s face is to your own. He’s only a few breaths away. Shoto is a few inches taller than you, so you need to crane your neck in order to get the full picture of his beautiful face. You wonder nervously if he expects you to initiate – should you reach out and grab his face? Your heart starts beating much too fast and you see his intense eyes dart down to your lips, wanting. You take a step closer to him, leaning up to meet his face, and…

“Let’s get started.” He says abruptly, breaking the moment. He walks over to his closet and pulls out his bedroll, hastily moving to set up his sleeping space so that you’ll have a comfortable place to sit. Once he sets up the space, he takes a seat on the soft mattress and motions for you to join him. This wasn’t really what you were expecting, but you remember that Shoto is pretty sheltered. He clearly has a plan in mind here, so you decide to let him take the lead.

“Alright, before we start – I just want you to know that we can stop at any point you’d like. I want you to be comfortable here, so please let me know if at any time you feel like you don’t want to continue. Ok?”

You nod, appreciating the dialogue and Shoto’s forethought surrounding consent.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Leaning his head back, he exhales slowly through his nostrils. After a moment of deep breathing, his eyes flutter open. “It’s an exercise my father taught me for clearing my nerves before a battle.” He explains as he runs a nervous hand through his two-toned hair.

“Are you anticipating a battle here?” You tease, reaching over to place your hand on his thigh. Shoto eyes the hand curiously before matching your gaze.

“Of course not. But surprisingly – I have the same feeling of anxiety now that I usually have right before a sparring match.” His expression is stone cold serious, not even the hint of a joke this time.

“I understand that. It’s nerve wracking to kiss a person for the first time.” You quickly double back on your words. “N-not that I’m implying that this is your first kiss or anything, I-”

Shoto blinks. “Oh – this is my first kiss. I thought it was fairly obvious.”

“Oh! Oh, Todoroki – I didn’t realize!” You trip over your words a bit and it brings out a soft smile in Shoto.

“I think that’s why I’ve been so distracted lately. Once I know how it feels, maybe then I can move on and focus back on my training and studies. Is this not your first kiss?” He tilts his head to the side, questioning. You see no hint of jealousy in his eyes – he’s legitimately curious.

“N-no. I’ve kissed a few people before. Never anything serious! Just here and there at summer camp.” You smile weakly, face burning. Shoto nods appreciatively at your candid answer.

“That makes sense – you’re very competent at everything you do. And very attractive.” This last part brings a blush across Shoto’s pale cheeks. “I had assumed there were plenty of people who have wanted to be kissed by you.” The compliment is unexpected and it makes a laugh bubble up your throat. You start giggling and Shoto seems taken by surprise.

“Did I say something funny?”

“No – no! You’re just so sincere and sweet and I am so nervous right now. Shoto you’re competent and attractive, too. I hope that you know that!” This brings his smile back out again, like the sunshine after a long rainstorm.

“Why don’t we just get it over with, then? I’ve read a few articles and studied some movies and…well, I think I’m as prepared as I can be.” Shoto’s face is so open and earnest your heart squeezes in your chest. He studied for this??

Slowly, carefully, Shoto reaches out a delicate hand to cradle the side of your face. He scoots somewhat awkwardly closer to you, but the rest of his movements hold his typical grace. He leans forward, eyes half closed, and brings his lips to your own.

You dip your head to receive the kiss, and you feel his soft lips melt against yours. You close your eyes and revel in the feeling of his mouth. Everything about him is soft and electric at the same time – the points where your bodies are connected feel charged with some kind of buzzing energy that leaves your breathless. And just as soon as it’s begun – it’s over. A brief peck, a stolen moment in time. Shoto pulls away from you, eyes wide, as he catches his breath.

“So?” You ask, trying for nonchalance but failing when you realize your voice is just a hoarse whisper. “What did you think?”

“It’s…” Shoto looks at you thoughtfully, touching his fingers to his tingling lips. “It wasn’t what I was expecting. I just feel like I want to do it more – like I need to keep going.”

You laugh – “Did you really think you’d want to stop after your first kiss?” Shoto shrugs, unwilling to answer the question.

“Can we kiss again? Please. If you’d like to, that is?” He asks, and you note the want in his voice. You’ve never heard Shoto Todoroki sound desperate for anything in his life before this moment. You’re surprised at how he sounds fairly desperate for you.

You smile at him and lean in close, bringing your foreheads together. You can feel different temperatures playing across his skin as he works to keep his quirk in check as excitement roars across his body.

“Follow my lead, lover-boy.” You whisper, before crashing your lips together. You move at a faster pace this time, showing him how to slide his mouth against yours to have a proper make out. He picks it up quickly and absolutely relishes in it. His eyes are closed and his hands find either side of your face again. You let him hold you like that for a few minutes before you decide to take the reigns a bit more. You reach out to place a hand on his chest and softly push him away from you.

“Here – this will make things a lot easier.” You stand up and move to straddle him, slowly sliding into his lap and wrapping your legs around his back. You place his hands on your waist and wind your arms around his neck. “Comfortable?” He nods, his eyes blown wide and almost glassy with lust.

“This is okay?” He asks, looking down at the way his hands grip your hips.

“Absolutely. You’re going to want them there for leverage.”

“Leverage?” He asks weakly, his eyes trained on your lips.

“You’ll see.” You smile deviously as you take in how absolutely undone Shoto looks. “Okay, next step – have you done any research on French kissing?”

Shoto nods again, looking a bit uncertain. “I watched a romantic comedy online and at the end the main couple kissed that way.”

“Well it’s super easy – I’ll walk you through it.” You tilt your head towards his and melt your lips back together, starting out with a slow and soft kiss. As he begins to get comfortable with the pace of your kissing, you move to deepen it – running the tip of your tongue across his lips. He naturally opens his mouth to you, and you move so that your tongues meet. You guide him into a light dance, your kisses becoming more frantic as your mouths and tongues collide. This brings out a ferocity in Shoto that you hadn’t expected, and you feel his hands grip your hips with almost bruising force. You groan, turned on by the contact. You automatically rock your hips into his and he stills at the motion. You blush as you realize that you can feel Shoto’s dick becoming hard beneath you. Shit.

His hands fly off of your hips and he sits back, mortified.

“I’m so sorry-” you start to say as he runs his hand anxiously through his hair again. Shoto takes a deep breath and looks at you, eyes still fuzzy.

“Don’t be sorry! That was amazing, I just…didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He looks down between you pointedly. He doesn’t want you to get freaked out by the fact that he’s got a boner.

“Oh I’m not uncomfortable at all! Actually, quite the opposite.” This answer makes Shoto’s sculpted eyebrows fly up into his hair.

“Really?” He whispers.

“Yeah. It’s actually really hot.” You reach down and take his hands in yours, moving them back to your hips. You make piercing eye contact with Shoto as you roll your hips experimentally again – feeling his hardness even through your clothes. He groans at the contact this time, a soft sound that is just: So. Goddamn. Hot.

You grind against him again, picking up a steady rhythm as Shoto enthusiastically moves your hips. Struck by sudden inspiration, you lean forward to kiss a sloppy line up his neck. This draws a moan from Shoto that you weren’t expecting – low and sweet. You smile as you continue to kiss his neck, using your tongue when you find a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ear.

Shoto grabs your face with one hand and tilts your head up before crashing his lips back into yours. His kisses are heated and passionate as he bounces you on his lap, making you both see stars. You’re so wet you can feel yourself soaking through your panties. You pray that your school uniform pants won’t get damp beneath you – how embarrassing would that be?! At the same time - you don’t give a damn; Shoto’s mouth and his hands and his dick feel far too good. At the moment kissing Shoto Todoroki feels like the only thing you were put on this goddamn earth to do.

Tentatively, you feel Shoto’s hands wander up from your hips. You moan into his mouth as his hands find your breasts. “How is this?” He whispers hoarsely, running delicate fingertips across the peaks of your breasts. “Is this okay? I can stop if you want me to.” You moan your consent enthusiastically, and when he begins to softly knead your boobs over your shirt, your hormones fully take the wheel.

You hop off your classmate so you can quickly unbutton your shirt – your tie flying off as you work. Shoto remains sitting on the floor and does the same with his own uniform. In a moment he is sitting shirtless and beautiful before you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath. He stares at you with bright eyes as you stand above him in nothing but a bra and UA’s uniform slacks. He has never seen a woman with so little clothing on before, and he is in awe.

You kneel down beside him on the bedroll and reach out to touch his perfect body. Your hand hovers above his perfectly sculpted abs and you look up at him, eyes asking permission. He nods, giving you his blessing to touch. You smooth your fingertips lightly across the defined planes of his chest and abs, marveling in all that he is. Your palm comes to rest against his chest and you feel his heartbeat – a quick staccato beneath your delicate hand. You push him lightly so that he moves to lie on the ground before you.

“You alright with all this?” You whisper, moving slowly to straddle him on the ground.

“If I get to have you on top of me again – absolutely.” And he grins – a genuine smile that radiates comfort. You’ve never seen a look like that before on Shoto’s face and it stops you in your tracks. You just want to bask in the glow of the rare gift of his beaming face.

After a moment, you collect yourself and move so that you’re on all fours and hovering over him. You shiver – you’ve never been so close to someone in this way before. He seems to notice your hesitation.

“You look cold – do you want to grab a blanket?” He reaches up and runs his hands up and down your arms, giving you more goose bumps. You nod, and he reaches to grab a thick grey knit blanket that’s folded neatly to your left. He pulls you down to lay on top of him and easily casts the blanked across your intertwined bodies. The knit feels luxurious and expensive – and it smells deliciously like Shoto. A scent that’s a mixture of sandalwood and fresh sheets wafts around you. It’s comfortable and warm and you feel so, so happy to be sharing this moment with Shoto.

He wraps his arms around you and feels himself get hard again at the delicate feeling of your bare skin against his own. He pulls you in for a kiss – and this time the passion is slow, sensual. You’ve never kissed someone like this before – like you have all the time in the world. He moves his hands up and down your bare back beneath the blanket – warming you up. He’s keeping his ice quirk at bay – both of his hands are the perfect temperature as they run across your soft, supple skin. His hands come to rest on your lower back as he moves to experimentally kiss down your collarbone.

“Oh! Oh, Shoto, yes.” Is all you can say. The use of his given name seems to turn him on even more, because his kisses become sloppier and he runs the edge of his teeth against your skin. He continues to kiss down your shoulder, pausing for only a moment in order to roll you both over so that he can have a turn on top. You gasp at the sudden movement – the dynamics have unexpectedly shifted and Shoto is in total control.

He gazes down at you, shifting the blanket so that it doesn’t get tangled between your bodies.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says, a note of wonder in his voice. “Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.” He runs a light fingertip across the delicate skin of your neck and across the expanse of your collarbone. He watches as he runs his finger down the slope of one of your breasts, stopping when he meets the soft cotton of your bra.

“Can we take this off?” He whispers, moving to palm your breast over the delicate white material. You nod, and prop yourself up so you can reach behind yourself to unclip the clothing. With a light “pop!” the bra clip comes undone and Shoto helps you discard the item. He takes in your breasts with a look of absolute amazement and cautiously reaches out to touch them. He gently runs the palm of his hand across your right breast experimentally. You gasp at the contact, and he nervously glances at your face to make sure you’re not in any discomfort. You smile at him, encouraging him to keep going. He kneads the breast in his strong hand a few times before experimentally rolling his thumb over your nipple. You gasp at the contact as pleasure surges through you – you had no idea you were so sensitive. Shoto repeats the motion, earning a soft moan. He smiles at the praise – unexpectedly mischievous as he moves so that he’s kneeling over you, able to tackle a breast with each hand. He goes to work pinching and massaging and rolling your breasts between deft fingers, drawing the sweetest sounds from your mouth.

“Shoto!” You cry out as he moves to spread more kisses across your neck as his left hand plays with one of your breasts. You reach down and squeeze the muscular plane of his ass, begging him to grind into you. He gets the message loud and clear – moving against you gently so that you can feel his hardness graze against you.

He’s causing so many delicious sensations across your body with his lips, hands, hips, groin – it’s almost too much. You feel like you might drown in him when suddenly –

A knock on the door causes you both to still.

“Todoroki?” Mr. Aizawa’s voice is muffled behind the door. You’re both rigid with fear. Shoto’s lips are at your neck and his breath tickles your bare skin. Your fist is tightly squeezed around his left ass cheek. You stare at the ceiling as you start to panic, wondering wildly what you’re supposed to do in this situation. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

Mr. Aizawa knocks on the door again. “Todoroki – your father is here to see you.”

“My father?!” Shoto blurts out before he can stop himself. He scrambles off of you and looks around in a panic. “Why’s my father here?”

The walls seem to be thinner than you thought, because Mr. Aizawa supplies an answer from the other side of the locked door.

“Endeavor had a press conference at a hotel down the road this morning. He wanted to check in and discuss internships. I left him waiting in the common area. I’ll be in my office if you want to grab any internship paperwork while he’s here. I wouldn’t keep him waiting, kid.”

“Of course – thank you Mr. Aizawa!” Todoroki calls through the door awkwardly, listening as your teacher’s footsteps recede into the distance.

You and Shoto stare at each other in absolute horror.

“Do you think he heard us? Do you think h-he knows?” You whisper, panic lacing your voice.

Shoto shakes his head no as he gathers up his shirt and shakily tries to re-button it. “No – I don’t think he was out there long enough to hear anything incriminating.”

You let out a breath of anxious air, reaching for your discarded bra. “Thank goodness.” You re-clip your bra and shrug on your shirt.

“Endeavor is here?” You eye Shoto with concern as he dawns his tie and straightens his hair in a wall mirror on the back of his door.

“My old man likes to pop up at inconvenient times.” Content with his hair, he looks down at you. You’ve started to fold up his blanked and bedroll, patting down your own hair along the way.

“We should probably talk about what just happened…” He starts to say, but you shush him as you hear heavy footsteps coming from down the hall.

“Shoto!” A booming voice rings through the hallway, sending shivers up your spine. The heavy footsteps come to a stop right outside Shoto’s dorm door. The doorknob rattles as someone tries the lock. “How dare you keep me waiting!”

“I’ll be out in a minute, old man!” Shoto calls back bitingly. He glares at the door, thankful for the meager lock. He turns to look at you, and his eyes fill with panic. You scan the room for a place to hide – there is absolutely nowhere to conceal yourself in Shoto’s sparse, plain room.

Suddenly, you’re struck with inspiration – you point to the window. Shoto nods in agreement, dashing to grab your things from where they lay abandoned at the threshold of the door.

Quietly, you pad over to the window and pull back the curtains by a foot. You unlatch the window and slide it softly open before hoisting yourself into the wide window frame. It’s lucky you’re not afraid of heights – because Todoroki’s room is on the fifth floor. There is a small escape ladder for fire emergencies (you smile at the irony of Endeavor being the fire emergency in this case). You move to settle your feet on the top rung of the ladder, with plans to climb your way back to the ground so you can re-enter the dorm building from the back.

Shoto leans out the window and hangs your messenger bag around your shoulder.

“Find me later so we can discuss this.” He says, looking apprehensively over his shoulder as his father continues to bang on the door and callout his name. “I’m sorry this ended with you having to sneak out the window like some sort of criminal.”

“Ah, it’s no big deal! Makes it more exciting.” You grin and he smiles back. He leans forward and presses a small kiss to the corner of your mouth before moving back to close the window.

As he slides the glass closed, he says to you “I don’t think this is going to help me refocus. If anything, I’m more distracted than ever.” You give him a wink as he shuts the window soundly, drawing the curtains to cover your escape.

Hastily, you climb down 5 stories worth of thin metal ladder, landing gracefully in the soft spring grass. You walk to the dorm’s back entrance and let yourself in, walking past the laundry room and up towards the common area. Mina waves at you as she tosses some clothes into the washing machine, and you say a silent prayer thanking the powers that be that none of your friends had come looking for you while you spent your blissful hour hidden away, half-naked and moaning, in Shoto Todoroki’s room.

You climb the stairs two at a time until you hear the voice of the Number 2 Hero grumbling in the common area. Curious, you peak around the corner to see Shoto and his father seated on one of the couches, sorting through paperwork. Shoto has a dead look behind his eyes as his father lectured him about the importance of networking. He nods blankly a few times before his eyes catch sight of your small frame hiding around the corner. His entire face softens at the sight of you. Endeavor notices and turns to see what’s captured his son’s attention.

“You there! Are you a member of Class 1A?” He booms out, almost polite in his delivery. You walk out into the room, drawing yourself up to your full height.

“Dad – this is my classmate Y/N. She lives on the girl’s side of the dorm. Her quirk is extremely powerful.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Endeavor.” You say, trying not to blush at Shoto’s compliment. Endeavor waves you off with a fiery hand.

“Ah, that’s right. I recognize you from the Sport’s Festival. Your quirk and fighting style were both quite impressive.” He looks at you appraisingly. “Are you a close friend of Shoto’s?” 

“She is.” Shoto answers smoothly. “Actually, she’s been tutoring me a bit lately on some techniques I’m not familiar with. She’s a greatteacher.” The subtext is not lost on you.

“Surely you don’t need help in your studies, Shoto. You’re at the top of your class.” Endeavor says gruffly, looking to his son for further explanation.

“Just showing him a few moves I picked up in one of my martial arts classes, sir! Shoto picks up new techniques like a Pro.”

Endeavor seems mollified by this answer. “Of course he does. He’s on track to become the best of the best.” The hero claps his hand on Shoto’s shoulder proudly, and you smile weakly at the discomfort that flashes across Shoto’s eyes.

“Well – I’ll let you both get back to your work! Shoto – if you want to practice those techniques again later, I’ll be in the library until 8 tonight.”

You see Shoto ever so slightly lick his bottom lip. His face is tinged with the lightest of blushes.

“Got it. I’ll see you there, Y/N.”

You have a feeling that Shoto isn’t going to be able to focus on his studies for quite some time.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!

i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33

thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!

Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)

This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.

Tangerine, Tangerine

Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 4494

_______________________________________

It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 

You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 

Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”

“Green Two check.”

“Green Three check.” 

 It was just a kiss. 

“Green Four check.” 

 It was just a-

“Green Five check.” 

Just a-

“Green Six check.” 

Just-

“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.” 

It wasn’t just a kiss. 

You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron. 

This mission was straightforward - on a holopad. 

Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons. 

The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne. 

Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure. 

Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.

You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide. 

The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them. 

Simple. 

In theory. 

Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy. 

But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going? 

No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice. 

You swallow. 

You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart. 

I hadn’t just been a kiss. 

You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline. 

He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that. 

Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead. 

It made a lot more sense. 

Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own. 

They had always been close. Always. Best friends. 

Sickness bubbled in your throat. 

You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it. 

“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander. 

“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?” 

Hank chortled. 

Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist. 

Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you. 

“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?” 

Yeah. Now you had. 

The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains. 

Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet. 

You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…

But you had thought it was…

It didn’t matter. 

You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch. 

That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss. 

Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence. 

It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons. 

A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands. 

You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next. 

Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?

“That one here, you see it?” 

“Yeah?” 

“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”

You’d laughed. 

“That’s me and you Moonbeam.” 

Moonbeam. That stupid nickname. 

You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you. 

“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.” 

That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’ 

You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on. 

It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal. 

Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay. 

Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures. 

“Fuck.” 

The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled. 

“Blue in place now!”

“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”

“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!” 

“How far away is the Delta?” 

“Calling in attack pattern!” 

You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game. 

That didn’t bode well. 

You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction. 

Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.

“Targeting not working!”

“It’s out!”

“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”

“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on. 

“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!” 

You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process. 

“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.

You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?” 

“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down. 

It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard. 

The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns. 

Good. 

But there’s so, so many of them. 

Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems. 

More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together. 

The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing. 

“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear. 

You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through. 

The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on. 

“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter. 

There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home. 

Frizz.

“No…” 

“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”

You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.

“Green Two check!” Cril.

“Green Three check!” Petal. 

Nothing. 

“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz. 

The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes. 

You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist. 

There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity. 

All you need is…

Another alarm. 

“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!” 

A chorus of yells answer you. 

A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely. 

And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard. 

The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot. 

“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist. 

Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected. 

You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons. 

You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull. 

It’s not enough.

You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough. 

It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it. 

Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.

“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.

They must have scrambled after first contact. 

The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell. 

The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire. 

You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational. 

Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on. 

Two chances left. 

One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits. 

Poe shouts for you over the intercom. 

You don’t answer.

One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will. 

Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call. 

You don’t answer.

You fire. Hit. 

Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it. 

The canon doesn’t go down. 

You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him. 

You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.

“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do. 

Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 

“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 

You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down. 

Shouts over the radio, you barely make out- 

“-cannon’s down-”

“-Jump!-”

A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.

The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-

.

The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream. 

Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain. 

You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob. 

There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit. 

The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it. 

You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide. 

Make it look like you had a weapon. 

Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning. 

Can’t let them take you alive. 

There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down. 

For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull  yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot. 

You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue. 

You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…

.

When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear. 

I'm dead.

You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds. 

But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.

And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.

“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use. 

Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back. 

“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good. 

“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?” 

“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper. 

“What?”

“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-” 

“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.” 

You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe. 

Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.” 

You snort. 

He smiles. 

“Who did we lose?” 

Hank sighs, “three…”

You nod, closing your eyes for a moment. 

“There-”

There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.

You swallow, sickness building in your throat.

He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red. 

He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages. 

“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes. 

“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.

Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.” 

Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away. 

“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”

“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”

He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?” 

“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.” 

The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?” 

You nod. 

“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart. 

“You pushed her away?” 

“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…” 

“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”

“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.” 

He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes. 

“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”

“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”

“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head. 

He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating. 

You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly. 

“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.

“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”

He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.” 

You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight. 

“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins. 

You scoff. 

“You are.” He kisses you again. 

You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home. 

“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.” 

You nod. “She’s a good person.”

He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.” 

You touch his cheek lightly. 

“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?” 

You shake your head in surprise and he nods.

“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.” 

You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper. 

Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance. 

Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted. 

“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @queerponcho

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[olderthannetfic]

I found AO3 pretty intuitive. Took me like 5 minutes to realize how all the little buttons work. They're pretty straightforward. Apart from the AND filters - took me a while to realize what type of filters AO3 used. Beyond that, I'm not sure why people have a hard time? Wattpad and FFnet are way more of a pain in the ass.

--

It's all about familiarity.

I mean, look, AO3 works how my brain works. When we first set it up, it was what we were all used to, more or less, but an upgrade. It was hard to even see how it could ever be unintuitive because this was just How Things Were. From the style of trope tags to the fact that there's an index of fandoms by media type, it was all familiar.

But that thinking is a trap.

It's easy to say "Oh, well, that person's just an idiot", and sometimes, the problem really is laziness or sleep deprivation, but a lot of the time, it's different cultural context.

By the time we were designing AO3, I'd had many rounds of formal instruction in how to use library catalogues of various sorts, familiarity with Delicious, years in LJ slash fandom whose assumptions form the metadata structures of AO3, etc.

There's nothing strange about going "Why are ship types a top level system of organization?" or "How do I search for genre X in any anime fandom but not in non-anime fandoms?"

It's strange to me, but it's not strange in the context of people who read fanfic overall.

It's not just about learning the search features that do exist: it's about unconscious assumptions about what metadata must exist.

If you don't know to look for something and you aren't coming from a culture where poking buttons is encouraged, you're going to take a lot longer to find things than if you already have a good idea of what's probably there somewhere.

To pick two very obvious examples:

If I were designing a gen-focused archive, I'd make genre a top-level organization system, like on FFN.

If I were designing a more x-reader-focused or One True Character-focused archive, I'd make the ship searches work like Character X/Anyone instead of having to click on each ship of your blorbo or each ship with Reader.

If someone has years of experience searching for some bullshit 'trickyfish' style nonsense ship name because they're on sites with garbage searches, they'll go to AO3, plug some words into the search bar at the top, and then feel like they can't find any relevant results because everything that turns up is just that word in author's notes on an irrelevant fic. They might even go to advanced search...

...and then totally miss that the sidebar filters are the best part of AO3, and they don't appear when you do a search search as opposed to starting from a tag.

Isn't Advanced Search the most... well... advanced search? On every other website, it is, but not on AO3.

--

Each new site/technology/culture/etc. a person has to learn takes time and attention. If you're exhausted and burnt out, that's hard. Even if you're not, it takes at least some effort. It doesn't Just Happen, not for every person and every new thing.

We should tell people to read the damn FAQ, yes.

But I can't say I always do that myself on every site unless I'm both having a problem and invested enough to care about solving it.

--

On an average day, most of us don't need to care why some people have a hard time figuring out AO3.

But if anyone is planning to design a site or needs to teach a bunch of kids how to use the library or something, it's worth keeping in mind just how many unconscious assumptions are hiding behind the idea of something—literally anything—being "intuitive".

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Lando/Oscar

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let us know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍

have a pairing you want us to do next? please read the faqs and then head to the inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments

Only a few months ago, we featured a Lando/Oscar fic on our super rare pair list. Now, it's our most requested ship. Wow!

We hope you enjoy these ones! 🍊

nsfw: By a thread by @mctwinkdom | 5k | E

Oscar and Lando have a text conversation about thongs – things escalate from there. I loved the formatting of this fic, the texting really works well as a structure and the rest is filled up by the authors lovely characterization of both Lando and Oscar. I especially love Oscar being his normal aloof self, a little bit nervous about his new teammate (but so so in to it when the convo turns spicy) while Lando is just a strange little horny boy with a liking for ”thongs”.

Oscar raises an eyebrow. He thought his answer was pretty straightforward, didn’t think he’d have to spell it out for Lando. (me): I wasn’t talking about shoes in my tweet” Now that would teach him. Fucking British. Always thinking they have full powers over the English language. Okay, granted, maybe they invented it but still.

Sanctus by debrief | T | 5.5k

This is a renaissance au with lovers to enemies (and back), beginning with Oscar serving Lando's high-status family. What I like: This is some of the most incredible writing I've encountered. Not only is it a masterclass in non-linear narratives, but it's packed with striking imagery and fascinating power dynamics. There are phrases and sentences in this fic that I can quote off the top of my head. It's immersive and heart-wrenching and beautiful.

'Lando had been blithe, Oscar had been brave. They were seventeen and unforgivably naive. It was a time of spires, domes, cathedrals, rebirth celebrated at the heart of the greatest city-state this side of the world. A war of high art and marginalized decadence, long expanses of moon-kissed skin bathed in gratuitous bathos, love and lust flirting vows over gilt-framed canvases commissioned by wealthy nobles who have known neither.'

legerdemain by anonymous | Not Rated | 5.8k

Oscar gets roped into teaching Lando how to play chess, and quickly finds out that Lando's endgame is a lot more complicated than it seems. I loved this fic for a variety of reasons - firstly because of the way that the author's love for and understanding of chess shines through so clearly. And secondly, the characterisation of both Lando and Oscar is complex and witty and so fitting to who they both are. Lando is cheeky and a little weird and far sharper than he lets on, and Oscar is dry and matter-of-fact and unexpectedly into Lando. This is one of those fics that can get you sold on the Lando/Oscar pairing if you were initially uncertain about it - the slow build-up of tension and realisation is brilliantly captured, with chess and chess strategy being used to build UST between these two in a way that feels perfectly fitting to them.

'“Gotcha,” Lando says. “So like. D’you prefer blowjobs?” He moves the white rook to attack the hanging pawn and figures out the rest of the endgame puzzle pretty effortlessly.'

soft vanilla foreplay by anonymous | M | 7k

AU. Lando, a member of a Robin Hood style crime group, meets Oscar, who turns out to be a cat-hybrid vigilante superhero himself. Oscar joins Lando’s gang. Together they fight injustice (by doing crime). This fic is really well written and incredibly funny. It leans hard into the cat-Oscar joke - Oscar is very catlike in all the best ways and has some mannerisms that made me think the author definitely has one. Their meet-cute is hilarious and sets the tone for the entire fic.

' “No, I actually inherited the genes from my ancestors, who came from a planet of felids.” “Excuse me, did you mean a planet of furries?” “No, Jesus, Lando,” Oscar says emphatically, then he’s laughing, crinkling eyes and soft cheeks and bunny teeth. God, he’s so fucking cute. “No, I was found, um,” Oscar says, sobering from the laugh. He takes a deep breath. “In a handbag. Someone left me on the. Doorstep of a stranger’s house.” Lando looks up and gauges Oscar’s expression. He’s telling the truth. “I don’t know why I’m a cat,” Oscar says. Makes this shrugging expression without actually shrugging. “So…” Lando says. “How did you find out?” “Well. For one, I can speak to cats,” Oscar answers. Huh. This probably explains all the neighbourhood cats serenading Oscar from his balcony so much. “Okay,” Lando says, taking it all in stride. “And you fight crime by night?” “I work graveyard shifts at the supermarket,” Oscar says. “Yeah. Part-time. That’s three out of seven nights.” And Oscar is with Lando for two or three of the four remaining nights (they fuck every evening though) (and morning). Anyways, the maths doesn’t add up. Oscar sighs. “Well, I.” He pauses. “I climb up to fancy penthouses of people who run trust mills, and I take stuff. Then I redistribute.” Oh. Lando is mouthing the oh. “You’re a cat burglar,” Lando whispers it like it’s the funniest secret ever.'

nsfw: Needs Improvement by @strawberry-daiquiris | 7.1k | E

Zak tells Oscar his 'teammate communication' needs improvement. Mark sends him to a 'Psychic, Clairvoyant, Sorcerer' who ends up doing some voodoo that leads to Oscar and Lando being able to read each others' thoughts. Its got great characterisations and some humour mixed in with some angst and, of course, some smut. Plus one of the first Landoscar fics I read and it really drew me in.

'If he’s really that worried, Mark suggests, he could see a sports psychologist. Someone who can advise him how to work with Lando, really get to the core of what it means to be a good teammate. They could even do sessions together. “Like couples therapy.” Mark grins, clapping Oscar on the shoulder. “Only worse, because you won’t get any sex out of it.” The irony, really, is that Oscar and Lando don’t not get on. He’d actually thought they were doing pretty well. Lando laughs at his jokes, Oscar smiles through his stories. They don’t see eye to eye on music, or hobbies, or the taste of fish, but none of those things matter on track anyway. Even more ironic is that Oscar really wouldn’t mind having sex with Lando, if he’s honest.'

nsfw: Never have I ever by @mctwinkdom | E | 13k

Lando and Oscar play a game of Never Have I Ever, and it leads to some interesting revelations. Although its majority (very good) smut, this was a very heartwarming fic. The dialogue is fun and keeps you reading more. The characterisation of them feels realistic!

'But there was something between them, without shape or name, something that made them avert their gaze after staring at each other for one second too long, something that made them slightly jump if their hands were to brush. Something Lando had named in his mind: “I wanna fuck my teammate: the Remix”, in bold orange (papaya) letters with some glitter and fireworks.'

we are all in the butter but some of us are looking at the cars by xiaoluclair | T | 14.3k

Oscar's first season in F1 is about reaching the stars. It becomes about reaching Lando, too. The timing of this one feels very real to me, the way pieces slowly slot into place. The author places threads and waits until the end to pull on all of them, and it's lovely.

'Peer pressure, thinks Oscar, this is peer pressure. But Lando keeps it held out, eyes on Oscar and Oscar. Oscar takes the damn shoe. It’s probably one of the oddest experiences of his life. When he lowers it again, can feel the thin river of it cold on his chin, Lando’s still looking at him. Crows have walked in the skin beside his eyes.A minute later, Oscar watches him tip his head back, shoe against his mouth. Light shines through the gap and, just for a moment, it looks like he is swallowing the sun itself.'

nsfw: carried away by venerat | E | 22.1k

AU, non drivers. Lando impulsively asks Oscar to pretend to be his boyfriend to make an ex jealous. Oscar agrees, even though it's probably a bad idea when he likes Lando so much. Lando gradually comes to realise he is in love with Oscar. I am crazy for the fake dating trope. This has all the best parts of it - miscommunication, angst, gradual feelings realisation from the POV character and obvious pining from the other. Venerat is so good at this and the fic is a lovely journey. The characterisations are perfect, especially Oscar and his natural talent for understatement, which muddies the waters a bit.

'If there was anything Oscar would do, it was was focus very intently on the task assigned to him, until he got it exactly fucking right. That was what made him perfect for this particular task: the task of being Lando’s boyfriend. Fake boyfriend. “Okay,” Lando said, clearing his throat. “Stunning. Was thinking, maybe we could try it out at the cinema tomorrow.” He, Oscar, and the Lefrères were going to see the new Bond film. It was the perfect opportunity to be dickish and in love, as far as Lando was concerned. “Just didn’t want you to get all jumpy if I touched you,” he explained. “If that’s alright. Like. Yeah.” Oscar nodded. “Got it. Sounds good, mate. I’ll be, er, ready.” It was nice to be around such passion. Lando rolled his eyes. He was smiling inside, when he thought it. But Oscar did have some capacity to surprise him. Before Lando fucked off, Oscar stepped forward, closing the normal non-sexual gap between them, and wrapped Lando in a light hug. It was nothing—Oscar’s arms were barely even squeezing him—but Lando’s breath still caught in his chest like a stupid fucking idiot, freezing inside the hug. “Have a good one,” Oscar said when he drew back. He was pink, which made Lando feel better, given that his own ears were warming. Okay. They clearly needed practice. Desperately, in fact. “You too, babe,” Lando said, and winked. Then, before he could embarrass himself further, he spun on his heel and walked out.'

nsfw: climb up to your lips by @scenetocause | E | 28k (wip)

This fic is Lando/girl!Oscar (the always-a-different-sex trope). Lando has a massive crush on his teammate. He also has a submissive streak that starts to express itself around her. As their relationship develops, she picks up on this and starts finding ways to take care of him. They’re both a bit inexperienced at relationships and sex in general. I just love these two. They’re both slightly weird and awkward and don’t quite fit with anyone else but are turning out to be perfect for one another. It’s a learning curve for them both.

“Yeah, fuck.” Lando has to tilt his head back onto the sofa. He can feel it in his arse, where she touched him. He might feel it for the rest of his life. “Yeah, I. Fuck.” “Later.” she says, like a promise. It takes him a moment to work out she means them, later. Fucking. Which might be ambitious because he currently feels like he needs a refractory period of about a decade, after that one but he won’t spoil her dreams just yet. She's acidic, clever as ever in debrief and brutal in the way she deconstructs her own, botched Q3. Lando's probably staring at her a bit lovestruck but he's been doing that all season anyway so no one has to know it's over the phantom sensation of her inside him. Despite the lecture from Zak earlier Oscar tucks him under her arm on the drive from the hotel, playing with his hair. He's actually less worried about being killed by Andrea or whatever now but still doesn't get his phone out because he hasn't had time to clean up his insta follows and he doesn't want Oscar to think he's into anyone else. For someone who doesn't seem to think much of herself, she seems fairly assured he likes her. Which might, in retrospect, be something to do with the best part of a year he spent broadcasting that to her before he'd even realised it himself.'

already home by @nyoomfruits | T | 32.5k

Lando marries Oscar, his best friend and roommate, to keep his family from worrying about him so much. This is an absolute gem. It's sweet, funny, cozy, and the dynamic between the pairing and their friends is delightful.

“Yeah, well, you’re marrying me, so,” Lando says, sticking out his tongue, and Oscar laughs, that loud, bursting out of him laugh he does sometimes where he completely folds his body in half. Lando hides his self-satisfied smirk behind another bite of his pancake, and pretends like he isn’t committing the little laugh lines in the corner of Oscar’s eyes to his memory.'

thank you to @singsweetmelodies, @ocontraire, @maaxverstappen, @lydia-petze, @frickinsweet & @welightitup for compiling this list 🧡

[corrodedcoffinfest]

Welcome to Corroded Coffin Fest!

This is a fanworks challenge/event that is all about Corroded Coffin. It will take place from July 1st thru July 31st.

Thanks so much for showing interest in this event during this post! If you have friends that you think would like to participate, please considering reblogging this announcement!

The calendar of prompts is located here:

Since there are so many events going on (and we love to see it!) we've decided to set a word count range for this event, so the love can be spread around to more events.

GUIDELINES:

Ideas for works include: fic, art, gifsets, fanvids, moodboards, edits, playlists, or anything else you can think of to celebrate Corroded Coffin!

For fics, there is a word count minimum/maximum of between 300-1000 words per drabble. We'll use wordcounter.net to check the word counts before reblogging, so make sure you stick to that range!

Do one prompt, do them all. Hell, do them all twice! It's totally up to you. You can pick and choose what you're interested in. And we're not going to police how you interpret the prompt. Just use them as a jumping off point to be inspired by the boys of Corroded Coffin, and then share that inspiration with us! (Not everything has to be band related, we encourage you to explore other parts of their lives, too!)

Submissions can absolutely be connected to other prompts from the event, or even past works, but should still be able to stand alone each day.

Every morning a new prompt card will go up, reminding everyone of what that day's prompt will be.

All submissions should include any pairings featured, content rating and any content warnings (CW) or tags that you think are appropriate. Please put the prompt you are fulfilling as well, just to keep things straightforward. A sample could look something like this:

Prompt Day 9: The Hideout, Word Count: 666, Rating: M, Pairing: None, CW: Underage Drinking, Recreational Drug Use, Tags: Corroded Coffin, First Gig, Partying, Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, Freak, The Hideout

Also, please consider putting any explicit material under a read more cut, because anything rated E that's not hidden under a cut will not be reblogged.

For the artists! Your art submission must be posted on the same day as the current prompt in order to be reblogged by this blog. Your piece of art (or other creation) must be Corroded Coffin focused, using any combination of the guys, together or solo. Of course, other characters can be included, too! But you need to have at least one of the CC band members in it for it to count for this event. Thank you!

All ships are welcome, as long as they include at least one member of Corroded Coffin: Eddie, Jeff, Gareth & Freak. (Who I look forward to learning the name of from you all, time and time again!)

Please tag us here @corrodedcoffinfest when you post your work for the day so we can reblog it!

Be respectful of your fellow participants and readers. We're all here to have fun and share the love of all parts of Corroded Coffin.

Definitely feel free to ask me anything if the rules weren't clear in places, or if I straight up forgot something (or if you just have anything else you'd like to ask). You can send an ask/message to this blog or reach out to @thisapplepielife.

Please submit your post by 11:59 PM EDT on the day of the prompt in order to not be missed for reblogging.

 If posting on AO3, please feel free to use the collection associated with this event: Corroded Coffin Fest AO3 Collection after your submission has been reblogged by this account.

Most importantly, have fun! We can't wait to see what Corroded Coffin fanworks come out of this new event!

More info below, including full prompt list with jumping off suggestions, the warm-up rounds for April, May & June, and a spreadsheet you're free to use:

PROMPTS:

JULY 1ST - FIRSTS

First gig, first check, first award, first...anything.

JULY 2ND - IN THE BEGINNING

How did Corroded Coffin come to be?

JULY 3RD - BEST FRIENDS

Who are the best friends in the band in your head? Let's find out.

JULY 4TH - EDDIE

We all know Eddie. Let's hear some more about him today.

JULY 5TH - ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Get them out on the road, in any way you see fit.

JULY 6TH - HEARD IT IN A LOVE SONG

Let's have some romance. Any pairing(s) that tickle your fancy.

JULY 7TH - CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES, C'MON

Let them celebrate! Maybe that's a birthday/holiday/celebration show. Maybe it's a wedding, etc.

JULY 8TH - BAND POLITICS

Fight! Fight! Fight! Not everything goes smoothly all the time.

JULY 9TH - THE HIDEOUT

Catch them there, every Tuesday, playing for five drunks.

JULY 10TH - PRIDE

Let's see them celebrate Pride! Or let's see them be proud, etc.

JULY 11TH - JEFF

Let's spend some time with the guitarist of Corroded Coffin.

JULY 12TH - OW!

Injuries happen. Tell me more.

JULY 13TH - SEX, DRUGS & ROCK N ROLL

Tell us about the seedier parts of being in a band! 18+ for adult content, please!

JULY 14TH - AND THE WINNER IS...

It's time for awards season. Do they win? Lose? Let us know.

JULY 15TH - LET'S TALK ABOUT THAT

Press Tour/Interviews. Sometimes they need to promote themselves.

JULY 16TH - STRUGGLING

They're working their asses off, grinding it out, but they haven't hit the big time yet. Or they're struggling in other ways...

JULY 17TH - "THIS ONE'S FOR YOU"

Dedicate a song to someone special.

JULY 18TH - FREAK (GRANT, FRANK, GOODIE, ETC.)

Whatever name you given him, let's all focus on the bassist of Corroded Coffin.

JULY 19TH - IN THE GARAGE

Get them in the garage. Band practice, fixing the van, etc.

JULY 20TH - UNDER THE COVERS

Let them cover some real songs. Or, you know, get under the covers in another way...

JULY 21ST - HATE THIS TOWN

Hawkins. How was it dragging them down? Or, maybe they hate LA...

JULY 22ND - ALTERNATE UNIVERSE (AU)

Use your imaginations and put them into a whole new world!

JULY 23RD - UP AND COMING

They're finally gaining a little traction. Or maybe they're up...and coming. *wink wink, nudge nudge*

JULY 24TH - BEHIND THE SCENES

What's it take to get this show on the road? Or, what are they really like, off-stage? Let's get a peek behind the curtain.

JULY 25TH - GARETH

Bang them sticks! Let's catch up with the drummer of Corroded Coffin.

JULY 26TH - TOUR DATE

Let's focus on a specific show.

JULY 27TH - YOU'LL BE IN MY HEART

Navigating love while on the road.

JULY 28TH - BACK TO INDIANA

Let's go back to Hawkins and/or Indiana. Send these boys home.

JULY 29TH - BEHIND THE MUSIC

You know there's drama. A story. Probably enough for VH1 to come knocking.

JULY 30TH - FAME & FORTUNE

They've made it big! Now what?

JULY 31ST - YOUR SONG

A Corroded Coffin song? A work inspired by a song? A song that makes you think of Corroded Coffin?

WARM-UP ROUNDS:

Let's get a little practice before the full event in July!

Here's a prompt each month leading up to the event to work out the kinks and get in the rhythm of it all!

APRIL 15TH - TAXED

It's tax day. Do they need to pay their taxes? Is this a write-off? Or, are they just taxed from being on the road? Tax them.

MAY 15TH - GET A JOB

Put 'em to work. First jobs, side hustles, etc. Surely they've had some other jobs besides being in the band. Tell us about them.

JUNE 15TH - BAND ON THE RUN

Are they late for a gig? Running from monsters in the Upside Down? On a tour from hell?

Same guidelines as the full event will apply.

SPREADSHEET:

If you'd like a spreadsheet to help you keep track of the prompts and your progress, here's the one I personally use for other events, and will be using myself for this event. If you'd like to use it yourself, just go to File>Make a Copy and you'll get a version you can edit in your own Google Sheets.

Thanks for showing interest in having a Corroded Coffin event this year! ❤️🦇🖤 - @thisapplepielife (and thanks for the help and adding to the prompt list, @wormdebut!)

[conkers-thecosy]

Hullo!

Just wanted to throw together a little link post to help folks find what they're looking for a bit easier! I've updated my tagging system (below) to navigate writing updates, recs, quotes, etc, as well as listing a few external links to my fics and other social media - if I've missed anything, let me know 💛

Links beneath the cut!

On Tumblr:

Conkers Corner - This is my general tag, for anything and everything!

Writing Update - All writing updates fall in here. If you're looking for updates on a specific project, I'll always tag with the project name, too!

Conkers Quotes - All the little quotes and snippets I've posted from my bagginshield fics!

Fic Recs - All the bagginshield fics I've stumbled across and fallen in love with!

Ask - Quite straightforward, if you're looking for an ask I've answered, you can find it here!

Conkers Cosy Games - This tag is for gaming stuff, and for when I start to stream once again! (see the Twitch link below for details!)

External Links:

AO3 - A small collection of Bagginshield fics written by yours truly! All currently in a canon setting, but always with the "everybody lives, nobody dies" tag, because I'm a sucker for a happy ending. I have a few AU ideas that I want to tinker with, but that won't be for a while yet!

Pillowfort - A place for me to share snippets of my writing, updates, headcanons, and other fun stuff! Used to do that here, until tumblr decided to roll in AI. So! I'm jumping ship. Do come say hello!

Twitch - Have set up a new channel to play some cosy games, but this won't be happening for a couple of months while I get my set-up re-organised. At the moment there's nothing here, but probably early next year sometime! (Definitely in time for "Tales of the Shire"!)

BlueSky - This is new! Life stuff, garden updates, cooking, some very fake-deep rambling, and a little smattering of politics... but only a very little!

TikTok - More life stuff! Lots of my dog, Wilfred, and some cooking and gardening things!

Instagram - This is actually my personal account, so there's not a lot of fandom content, but I am considering a side account... let me know if you'd be interested in that?

Ko-Fi - For anyone who might want to buy me a coffee to help fuel my writing!

[hollowbait]

Started watching Bleach again as an adult because I saw a 100k+ fic and decided that in order to read it, I needed to understand the canon. Once I actually got into the canon I fell immediately in love with Urahara and got sucked into a totally different ship. This is that ship. And since I'm a firm believer that once you read over 100 fics for a ship in less 3 months, you need to make a list of your favouriters, here we are!

@uraharaichigo's current top 25 URAICHI FIC.

breaking and entering is a crime, you know (but i'd forgive you of anything) by Excalis | T, 4k | “Why do you keep breaking into my house?” Ichigo complained, in lieu of a proper response. It was best to not feed Kisuke’s ego. “I was sexiled from my own home,” Kisuke sighed.

Your Humble Offering (In The Mouth Of This Abandoned Church) by RayShippouUchiha | M, 10k | Ichigo, the man who took Kisuke’s crumbling self into both of his hands and pressed the pieces back together with a gruff sort of gentleness, dies.

the shore at dusk (there you'll find my heart) by Starsilver | M, 5k | Ichigo dreams of the heartbeat pounding of the waves and the taste of brine on his lips.

Alchemy by athena_crikey | G, 22k | Shiba Ichigo leads a boring, blameless life as head administrator for the Shiba Clan. Until one day, a mysterious repair shop moves in next door.

Brightest by athena_crikey | T, 8k | “You fill your life with colour and noise and friendship, Kurosaki-san. It’s a very impressive trait. You turn enemies into friends. I… I turn friends into enemies.” Urahara’s still smiling; bitter, brittle.

Madness of Monday by NotLonelyJustAlone | G, 7k | How… how… how? How do you explain ‘I’ve either gone mad or I’m reliving the same week and I don’t feel mad and everything happens the same but I remember it all and I can’t can’t can’t keep doing this please help please please please because even if I’m not mad already I can tell the road there is definitely shorter today than yesterday?’

Standing Over Him by NotLonelyJustAlone | T, 10k | “And you, Kurosaki Ichigo, are mine.” Ichigo without his powers, but not totally alone.

Bureaucracy Hell by Aliendel | G, 8k | Reizei Ariko was considered old for a shinigami. Useless in a fight, she’d been relegated to an administrative position at the Academy. She was content with her mostly monotonous life dealing with arrogant nobles and stupid brats. Until an orange-haired young man barged into it and turned her life upside down like he had so many others.

Fashion Faux Pas? by celestivian | E, 20k | Ichigo has a big party to go to, and nothing to wear. Out of desperation, he seeks out Kisuke for help. Kisuke, of course, delivers.

You Don't Have a Soul, You Are a Soul (You Have a Body) by FeelingFredly | G, 2.6k | Kisuke has a disregard for his own safety a mile wide and it's enough to drive Ichigo mad. This time he finds the shopkeeper unconscious but not alone, and the woman with him has some very interesting things to say.

Car by CheshireSense (cywscross) | G, 4k | Urahara Kisuke handles pursuit of a love interest about the same way he handles everything else: with needlessly convoluted plans carried out in the most roundabout way possible because straightforward just won't cut it for him. He's lucky Ichigo's used to it by now.

Guard by CheshireSense (cywscross) | T, 18k | Later, Kisuke will remember and tease, "Were you really obsessing over me, Ichigo? Oh my, I have my own personal stalker!", and get an elbow to the face for his troubles.

Skeletons in the Closet (and flowers by the window) by Sky_King | T, 51k | Kisuke has a plan. He always has, and he’s very good at seeing it to completion no matter what. But as he grooms that noble boy into the perfect weapon to defeat Aizen, he begins to regret ever pursuing this idea.

A Deep Drink by Mousieta | T, 9k | Ichigo is a grad student who needs help writing his thesis. And Kisuke…. well no one has ever asked Kisuke what he needs. Does he even know? Does it matter?

i've always been this way (please don't scream) by Mister_Fox | T, 5k | “Ever wanted to snatch a pigeon out of the sky and eat it?” Kisuke asks idly.

Fade to Crimson (I know your name) by Starrie_Wolf | T, 8k | Ichigo’s a relative newcomer at the Seireitei Shatterdome, but he’s settled into the steady pace of his work fine, even made some friends. There’s just one thing.

what is reality? (what is a lie?) by Starrie_Wolf | T, 15k | Sequel to what is a gift? (what is a sacrifice?). Kisuke promises to restore Ichigo's powers after Ichigo makes a sacrifice he doesn't expect, and this changes things when Ginjou starts sniffing.

Equilibrium Position by Silmariën (Starrie_Wolf) | E, 15k | He can't believe he has Aizen to thank for getting them together. Can you send fruit baskets to Mugen?

Feeling Horny by Silmariën (Starrie_Wolf) | E, 3k | When Urahara shoved Ichigo to Hirako to learn how to control his inner Hollow, Ichigo thought it meant Urahara wasn’t Hollowfied. He was wrong.

Ficlet February by nahnahnahnah | G, 20k | And he had faith, he did, that Ichigo would defeat Yhwach. That was a startling enough realization, that he would have faith in anyone other than maybe Yoruichi and Tessai.

Patience by floweringbloom | E, 4k | Ichigo needs to have more patience, but he's very good at being Kisuke's distraction.

Remember Me (I won’t wait) by fw_feathers (callmeren) | G, 6k | On November 6, 2022, 13:00, the world’s first VRMMO game «Brave Souls Online» officially opened its servers. On November 6, 2022, 15:37, Kurosaki Ichigo put on his NerveGear and entered «Brave Souls Online». On November 6, 2022, 17:30, the game of death began.

Every Second (I’ll be running) by fw_feathers (callmeren) | M, 25k | “You didn’t tell us your zanpakuto spirit is a giant sea serpent, Ichigo-san,” Kisuke says mildly. “Ah,” Ichigo says, shading his eyes with a hand. “Should I have mentioned that?”

For You, My Dear, I’d Wait Forever by PhishyFish | T, 27k | Everybody knew about the 12th’s lieutenant. After all, he made quite the striking figure. Wild orange hair, a permanent scowl, and power that clung tightly to his skin, it really was not an exaggeration that everyone knew him, or at the least, knew about him.

[sapphicmicrofics]

March HP Femslash Prompts

March prompts for Sapphic Microfics!

Yes! We're back! (For March and April)!

These prompts can be taken and interpreted every which way you want, including changing the tense or pronouns or order of any dialogue. You do not have to stick with what might be the most straightforward association, and every individual prompt post will include a few suggestions to get you started.

This event is open to any HP femslash ship, any era, any character, OCs welcome.

All these prompts can be combined with other events (as long as they also allow you to combine prompts)!

If inspiration strikes, you are still allowed to write for any of the previous prompts!

The rules for this event can be found here, the previously submitted fics are all here and in this collection on AO3, and if you want to search them by ship you can do so here!

Sapphic Microfics is hosted by @hpsaffics, whose discord server holds a specific channel where these prompts and the incoming fics are excitedly discussed, so if you’re looking for people to talk with, check them out! (The server is 18+, keep that in mind!)

The prompts:

Teeth

Selfish

Muggles

Golden

Impossible

Bridge

Accident

Masked Ball

"They're gone"

Petunias

Nightmares

Toast

Title

Jacket

"Don't ruin it."

Bleeding

Field

Horses

Stress

Snow

Pond

Theatre

Hogsmeade

Prom

Illness

Bunny

Family

Pastel

Storm

Relief

Eggs

[justagalwhowrites]

Holly Jolly - Ch. 3: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Joel and Sarah celebrate the holiday with you and Sharon. The final chapter of Holly Jolly, a modern no-outbreak TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: None really!

Length: 4.8k

AO3 | Main Master List | First Chapter | Previous Chapter

“You think this is the way to go?” Joel asked, looking at the drawing in his hand as he sat on a video call with you in the middle of a Home Depot. 

“Yup,” you said, glancing back to the living room to see Sarah and Sharon deep in some adventure with Sharon’s Star Wars action figures. There were active blaster noises followed by a very dramatic sounding explosion. They were pretty occupied as you stood in the kitchen, leaning against your counter, waiting for the oven timer to ding. “I think if you go totally in this direction and just build something that’s perfect for the arbiesbay and how she plays with them, it’s even better than a reamday ousehay.” 

Joel was quiet for a second. 

“Did you just speak pig latin?” 

“You try hiding things from the irlsgay without switching languages,” you replied. 

Joel snorted. 

“Alright, well, just tell me what you think of these paint colors,” he said. “You’re the one with the vision.” 

Something smacked into the wall with a thud in the living room and you looked up from your phone. The shoebox the girls had been using for a space ship was across the room. 

“Hey,” you said. “Let’s not throw things, OK? If we throw things that means we can’t play with them anymore.” 

“But how is it supposed fly?” Sharon groaned. 

“Pretend,” you said. “Not by hurling it.” 

“Fine,” she huffed before getting up and getting the box, running it back across the room and bringing it in for a landing with a dramatic, explosive sound. 

You laughed and sighed, looking at the mess of dolls and Legos scattered all over the floor after a few hours of the girls playing together. 

“I need to get a toy box for the living room,” you said. “This is getting out of hand. Alright, let’s see the paints.” 

Joel held up three samples of pink. 

“Um…” you squinted at the screen. “Middle one, I think.” 

“I was thinkin’ that too,” he said. “Looks closest to the box color for the arbiebay I already got her.” 

“Was that pig latin?” 

“Utshay upyay. What about this one?” 

He held up a few purples as you giggled. 

“First one,” you said. “That will play best with the first one we picked.” 

“Right,” he said. “Alright, just need two more…” 

He held up a few options for the white and then a few for a green. 

“OK,” he said. “Think that’s everything… Thanks again for your help on this, I really don’t know what the uckfay I’m doing with this.” 

You had to fight to not snort laugh at fuck in pig latin. 

“Any time,” you said as the oven dinged. “And I need to go pull out gingerbread. See you soon?” 

“Yup,” he said. “Just gotta check out here, pick up pizza and headed your way after.” 

“Oundssay Oodgay.” 

Joel laughed. 

“Ebyay.” 

You pulled the gingerbread out and set it aside to cool and just watched the girls playing from the living room. 

Considering that you’d never met Joel and Sarah Miller before Thursday night, you were suddenly spending a lot of time with them. You and Joel had lunch together while Christmas shopping and you were surprised to learn that you got along better than you thought you would. Joel was oddly funny in a dry, clever way, every teasing moment and wry one liner feeling like an inside joke even though you’d only known each other a few days. You had the same concerns about raising girls as single parents, especially as young single parents who still felt a lot like kids yourselves. He was almost strangely insightful for a man, especially one who was damn near a perfect stranger. He seemed to understand the meaning behind your hesitant pauses or why you chose the words you did. Communicating with him was so straightforward and easy going, unlike anything you’d ever really experienced with someone so quickly before. You really liked Joel and Sharon adored his daughter. You really hoped you could help give them a great Christmas. They deserved it.

You’d drawn up a plan for the Dream House on Sunday night, going in a different direction than just trying to recreate what was on the shelf at the store. 

Instead, you’d made a Barbie-fied version of Joel and Sarah’s house. You’d found their house on Google Maps - it felt a little too weird to look it up on Zillow - and took a guess at the layout based on what you’d seen on the inside and what the footprint of the house was from above. 

Joel had stopped by your apartment Monday after work to pick up the plans and you stepped into the breezeway outside your door, leaving Sharon watching a cartoon in the living room. 

“I hope it’s not too weird,” you bit your lip as you handed the blue prints over. “If it is, I can redo it tonight and I don’t think it’ll put you too far behind…” 

He took the pages and frowned as he flipped through them. Your heart sank for a moment. 

“Is this… our house?” He asked, looking up from the papers to look at you. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I thought… since, you know, you just bought it and you bought it to give Sarah a better life, that kind of makes it a dream house, right? And I thought she might like to have her Barbies in a house that was like hers… I’m sorry, I over stepped, that’s not…” 

“This is amazing,” he said, looking back down at the plans. “Do you think she’ll like it?” 

You smiled, shoving your hands in the back pockets of your jeans. 

“Yeah. I think so, anyway. I would have, when I was her age. I think she will, too.” 

Even though you’d just seen him three days in a row, you were looking forward to spending the evening with him tonight, too. You had the supplies for making peanut butter cookies set out - as well as the peppermint bark shortbread you’d made every year since you were 20 and looking for something simple to make in your first apartment kitchen - and Joel was coming over to bake with you and the girls. 

You had a little surprise for him, too. When he’d first dropped Sarah off that afternoon, you’d gotten the girls to help make some Christmas decorations he could bring home with him. Paper chains and cut out snowflakes and Christmas trees made out of plastic spoons. Once the girls got bored you let them loose on the toys and told Sharon to bring the adventure to the living room so you could keep an eye on them as you made gingerbread. They were having a blast and you now had enough gingerbread to build a small village of houses, plus a small box of homemade decor to give to Joel. You just hoped he liked it. 

The girls were so involved with whatever they were playing - lightsabers were out now and Sharon was standing on the couch - that they barely noticed when he got there with an armload of pizza. 

“OK definitely feelin’ like I got off pretty easy in this deal,” he said, setting the pizza down on your breakfast bar. 

“It’s fine,” you waved him off. “My downstairs neighbors work in the afternoon and evening so they’re not bothering anyone. And they’ve stayed out of my way so it’s been no trouble, truly.” 

“Daddy!” Sarah yelped, dropping the lightsaber and running for him, leaping into his arms like she hadn’t seen him in weeks, instead of just a few hours. “We made stuff and played Barbies and now we’re playing wars…” 

“Star Wars,” Sharon corrected, jumping off the couch and stumbling forward as she landed. “It’s so cool, it’s this real old movie…” 

“Alright,” Joel cut them off. “I’ll stop ya there, I remember when some of those came out, don’t need you saying they’re that old…” He set Sarah down and turned to you. “Didn’t take you for a Star Wars fan.” 

You shrugged. 

“Gotta introduce the kid to classic film.” 

“Oh lord,” he rolled his eyes and laughed. “Think you’re the same age as me, better watch what you say about classic film…” 

You got the girls to sit still long enough to plow through the better part of a cheese pizza and some carrot sticks while you and Joel split a supreme, sitting so close to each other that your knees brushed below the table. 

The first time it happened, you jerked your leg away on instinct but Joel didn’t react. So you let your leg relax a little and, bit by bit, your knee drifted until it was against his thigh and your heart was in your throat. 

After dinner, you pulled two chairs into the kitchen for the girls to stand on and you supervised as they combined the ingredients for peanut butter blossoms, their little faces getting covered in a dusting of flour and a smear of peanut butter ending up in the middle of Sharon’s shirt. They gleefully rolled the balls of dough in sugar and you handled putting the Hershey kisses in the middle of each one as the cookies neared the end of baking as Joel helped the girls secure the structure of their gingerbread houses. 

“This much frosting seems dangerous,” Joel said after you’d joined them back at the table, cookies cooling on their racks on your packed counter. 

“Oh, it is,” you said before you put your tongue between your teeth to concentrate on adding a small chimney to your house. “This is why we do it at the end, so you can get one sugar addled child and I get the other and I’m not wrangling both of them.” 

He laughed a little, adding a Twizzler window frame. 

“Daddy?” Sarah looked up from her sagging house. “It’s not staying up.” 

“One sec Baby Girl…” He got up and went around to help her and you watched as he carefully adjusted the roof and added a little support beam. “See, that’ll help distribute the weight better, makes it more secure. Make sense?” 

“I think so,” she said. “Can I add more M&Ms now?” 

“Yeah, you can add more M&Ms,” he laughed a little before sitting back next to you. You let your knee drift to his thigh again. 

He looked at you for a second, a soft look in his eyes, and you thought about taking your leg back but you didn’t. 

“In case I haven’t said it,” he said. “Thank you for just… everything you’ve been doin’. Sarah’s been so happy this last week and I know you and Sharon got a lot to do with that. I’m real glad Sarah met her.” 

You smiled a little. 

“I am, too.” 

Joel took a deep breath. 

“And I’m real glad I met you, too.” 

Your heart picked up. 

“Yeah?” 

You leaned in a little closer to him. 

“Yeah.” 

“Aunt Cocoa, look!” Sharon piped up from across the table and you turned away from Joel to look at her gingerbread house that was dripping frosting and sprinkles. 

“That’s amazing!” You said. “You’re doing a great job girlie pop, definitely better than mine.” 

When the houses were done, you and Sharon helped carry everything down to Joel’s truck, including the box of decorations. He frowned at it when you handed it to him to put in the cab. 

“What’s this?” 

“Just… open it when you get home,” you smiled. “Let me know what you think.” 

He lifted Sarah into her carseat and buckled her in before closing the door and turning to you. 

“So, I was thinkin’,” he said. “My brother was supposed to host Christmas dinner but now he’s going to some girlfriend’s place and it doesn’t sound like you’ll have anywhere to be… would you two want to come over? Don’t have to if it’s weird, I know we just met but…” 

“I’d love that,” you cut him off, smiling. “Just let me know what I can bring? Or I can volunteer a dessert…” 

“Dessert is great,” he said. “Just… mostly just want you there.” 

You smiled bigger.

“Then I’ll be there.” 

He smiled, making his cheek dimple. 

“Good,” he said. “Can’t wait.” 

***

Joel sent you one final picture of the dream house. 

Think it’s done. 

He half expected you not to respond. It was after midnight, officially Christmas Day. By all rights, you should be asleep. 

You texted back anyway. 

That’s perfect! Sarah will LOVE it. 

Joel smiled at his phone like a damn idiot and scrolled through the messages the two of you had sent each other in the short time that he’d known you. There were the pictures he’d sent of his living room after he put up the decorations you and the girls had made him, pictures you’d sent of the gingerbread houses on your breakfast bar as you documented evidence of Sharon slowly sneaking pieces off of them, pictures he’d sent of the progress he made on the dream house. 

He clicked on your contact photo and made it fill his screen, the selfie you’d sent him the first night he’d met you. He smiled a little. He couldn’t help it.

You were so pretty he wondered how he didn’t see it at first, even with the ridiculous sweater and the antlers. He must have been in a real shit mood to have not noticed because, over the last few days, he found himself pulling the picture up again and again just to look at you. 

He did it when he had a break at work and was checking his phone for other messages. He did it when he was waiting for Sarah to finish breakfast as she dawdled before school. Most often, though, he did it just before he fell asleep when he felt oddly lonely and wished you were there. 

It was a strange thought for him. He hadn’t really been with anyone since Sarah’s mom. There just hadn’t been time, he was too busy with work and his daughter, and he’d never longed for someone he’d never even kissed before. At least, not since he was a fucking teenager. 

But he wanted to be next to you. He damn near melted the first time your knee had brushed his thigh, had to fight the urge to put his hand over that knee, trail his fingers along the inside of your thigh. And fuck, had he wanted to kiss you. You were so close and you smelled like vanilla and sugar and he knew - he just knew - that your lips would be soft and sweet. 

He’d only seen you two days since then - plenty, considering you just met, but it felt like so little. Once, when the two of you had taken the girls Christmas shopping and traded kids so they could get something for each of you, and another time when you’d taken the girls to the playground together. The two of you had tried to sit on a bench and watch them play but the girls weren’t satisfied, pulling you and Joel up to play freeze tag.

Joel was looking forward to Christmas now. He’d actually been able to get Sarah what she wanted - or hoped she wanted, anyway - and he was getting to see you. He wasn’t entirely sure how but he’d gone from a man who was all but dreading the holiday to one who was almost as excited as his daughter for the day to come. 

You sent him a picture of a Millennium Falcon set up for Sharon under the tree. Joel laughed a little and smiled. 

She’s going to love it. 

You followed it up with a picture of a sticker sheet. 

She might like this more, who knows. 

He wondered if it would be weird to ask you for a selfie. Probably. Still, he considered it. But he just texted, instead.

You did a great job. Really. 

Why are you still up? You should go to bed, Joel. Santa can’t come if you’re still awake.

He tried to picture you saying it, the serious look you’d try to keep on your face as your lips curved up at the edges. 

I will if you will. 

Alright, you convinced me! See you tomorrow. 

You sent a little heart after your last message and Joel tried to not read into it as he went to bed and pulled up your picture one more time, just to look at you, drifting off wondering how you’d feel curled up next to him.

Sarah tackled him at 6:17 a.m. 

“Daddy!” She shook his whole body. “Daddy, wake up, I think Santa came! Daddy, get up!” 

“Alright, Baby Girl,” he groaned, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “M’awake, gimme a minute, we’ll go see if Santa came…” 

He shook his head a little as he sat up, his hair falling over his forehead, and he got a shirt from his dresser before pulling up the camera on his phone. 

“Alright Kiddo,” he said. “You stay right here at the top of the stairs for just a minute so I can get you on video…” 

He went into the living room and turned on the lights, the paper chains you’d made with the girls dangling cheerfully from the doorways. 

“Alright,” he said, starting recording, suddenly nervous about Sarah seeing the homemade dream house. What if she hated it? This might be the first Christmas she really remembered, what if he ruined it? “Come on down, Baby Girl.” 

Sarah thundered down the stairs and into the living room, her curls bouncing as she ran. Her eyes went wide and her mouth made a small “o” when she saw the house sitting next to the tree. She ran over to it and dropped to her knees beside it, a Barbie and a Ken standing in the kitchen, ready for her to play with.

“Daddy!” She gaped at him, a look of awe on her face. “Daddy, that’s our house! That’s our house but Barbie!” 

“Is it?” He asked. 

“Yeah!” She said. “See, that’s the kitchen and we’re in here in the living room…” 

“Do you like it?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound too hesitant. 

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen!” She looked back to the house. “Barbie has a house like us!” 

“Yeah,” Joel said, trying not to tear up. “Yeah, she does.” 

It took Sarah a while to even want to move on to her stocking - loaded with candy - and the gifts under the tree. Joel had never been happier to see Sarah happy and it tugged at his heart knowing that he couldn’t have done it without you. 

There were two things under the tree for Joel from Sarah, one that she let him have then and one that she insisted on waiting for you to be there for. 

The first one was half of a butterfly best friend necklace and he frowned a little at it. 

“Hold on!” She scampered off to her room for a moment before she came running back, flopping on Joel’s lap as he sat cross legged next to the tree. She held up the other side. “See? So when you go to work you can remember me!” 

There was the burning pinch of tears in his eyes when he pulled her in to kiss her cheek. 

“I always remember you, Baby Girl,” he said, voice wet. “But I love it so so much, thank you.” 

He put it on, the chain much shorter around his thick neck than it was around her little one. She giggled and put her half of the butterfly against his before going back to playing with the Barbies. 

Joel had to pull himself away from watching her play to get dressed and make breakfast before making her get dressed, too, and then handling all the holiday things that needed doing before you arrived. 

He was putting the ham in the oven when the doorbell rang and Sarah shrieked before running for the door, Joel only catching a glimpse of a red dress as he ducked back below the paper chain between the kitchen and the living room. 

“I saved it just for you,” Sarah said conspiratorially as he made it to the door. You smiled at Joel over his head. “I wanted you to see, too!” 

“That was very sweet,” you smiled at her. “Have you had a good Christmas?” 

“The best,” she said. “Santa made a dream house just for me!” 

“He did?” Sharon’s mouth dropped open. “That’s so cool! I brought a Barbie, can she come over and see it?” 

“Yeah!” Sarah took her hand and the two girls tore into the living room, almost running into Joel on their way past. 

“Hey,” you smiled, your eyes bright and beautiful, in a green sweater that was so far from the one he’d first seen you in. This one was a dress that clung to your frame, hugging all the parts of you he’d thought about far too much. You moved to hug him, a little awkwardly with a pie plate in your hands, but he didn’t care. He was just happy for the excuse to touch you, hoped you wouldn’t hear his heart pounding in his green flannel shirt. 

“Hey,” he smiled as he gave you a squeeze. 

“Told you she’d love it,” you whispered before you pulled back, giving him a wink. 

The two of you went to the living room and watched the girls play, your legging clad legs brushing against him and he wondered if you even noticed, if it was all just an accident or if you were as aware of every time you touched like he was. 

“Oh, Dad, I have one more for you!” Sarah went and got the other small box from under the tree. “Miss Cocoa helped me pick it. And helped me buy it because it was more money than you gave me.” 

“You didn’t need to do that,” he frowned at you. 

You just waved him off. 

“I had coupons,” you said. “And Kohl’s Cash. And then it was only like $15 more dollars. Nothing crazy.” 

He unwrapped the box and opened it. Inside was a watch with a black face, green band and a metal case, one that would actually hold up to his job. 

“I wanted to get you the pink one,” Sarah said. “But she said she didn’t think it would fit you.” 

“Yeah, your dad is a big guy,” Joel could hear you smiling. “That pink watch looked a little small. I think this one will work better.” 

“Try it on!” Sarah said, bouncing a little beside him. “I wanna see!” 

“Alright,” he said, taking off his old watch that had seen far better days and sliding on the new one. He turned his wrist in the light, admiring it. “It’s perfect, Baby Girl.” 

“You like it?” Sarah asked, her eyes wide. 

“I love it,” he said, pulling her in to kiss her on the cheek. “Thank you so much.” 

She clapped before going back to playing with Sharon. 

You were looking at his wrist, a small smile on your face. 

“Really shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “It really is perfect, but…”

You smiled bigger. 

“She was just so excited about it,” you said. “I couldn’t resist.” 

“Well,” Joel said. “I do have somethin’ for you, too.” 

“Yeah?” You asked brows raised. 

He stood up from the couch, holding his hand out for yours. You took it and he tugged you to your feet. 

“You two behave yourselves for just a minute,” Joel said. “We’ll be right back.” 

They didn’t even seem to notice, too busy moving the barbies through the house. 

“C’mon,” he said, still holding your hand and guiding you toward the garage. “Now if you don’t like it, I can redo it…” 

He led you to his garage workshop and turned on the lights, your gift sitting under a sheet on his workbench. 

“Couldn’t really wrap it,” he nodded to it. “But it’s under there.” 

“I can just…” You raised your eyebrows at him and he laughed a little. 

“Yeah, go for it.” 

You made an excited little sound before pulling back the sheet. You gasped at it and Joel smiled as you went to run your hands over the sides. 

“This is gorgeous!” You said, looking from it to him. “What is it?” 

“Well,” he said, coming and standing so close to you that he could feel you breathing. You smelled like sugar and cinnamon and clove. “When we were on the phone while I was at Home Depot the other day, you mentioned needing a toy box for your living room. Seemed like you care about things like your furniture and things so I wanted to make you one that looked like it’d be your style. It opens at the top…” He demonstrated, lifting the lid. “Put some bumpers on the lid, too, so if Sharon throws it around it won’t hurt anything… top can be a bench if you wanted, too, you got all those nice pillows on your couch and stuff… Anyway, like I said, I can change it if you don’t…” 

You turned and threw your arms around his neck, pressing your warm, soft body against him. He hesitated for a moment before he hugged you back, his fingertips gripping you tight. 

“I love it,” your voice was muffled by his shirt before you pulled back from him just enough to look at his face. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me, where did you find the time?” 

“I ain’t slept much this week,” he laughed a little. “But that’s OK. It’s… it’s worth it. You’re worth it.” 

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and warm and soft and all he wanted to do was kiss you. Joel thought it might be the only thing he ever wanted to do. 

“Joel,” you breathed, pressing yourself a little closer to him. 

“Is it OK if I kiss you now?” He asked softly, one of his hands slipping from your waist to gently hold your face. “Because damn, do I want to kiss you.” 

You nodded eagerly and he tightened his hold on you, tilting your head just so to press his lips to yours. 

You felt just like he thought you would but somehow so much better, your mouth so soft and warm against him, the taste of mint on your tongue. Your lips fit on his own the way that no one else’s ever had, he’d never kissed anyone and felt this desperate to keep kissing them, keep doing just about anything with them. 

Eventually, you pulled back from him, breathless, and trailed your fingers through his hair. He smiled a little at you, panting a bit himself. 

“Think we can get a babysitter and go out sometime?” He asked. “Just the two of us?” 

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. “Yeah, I think we can.” 

The two of you went back in the house, holding hands as you sat watching the girls play, giggling and chattering back and forth like they’d known each other for years. But Joel understood that now. He’d never seen Sarah latch on to anyone so fast but then, he’d never had feelings like this for someone so fast, either. 

At dinner, he sat next to you, all four of you laughing, Christmas music on the background. When your knee came to rest against his leg, his hand slipped below the table and cupped your knee, his thumb stroking your thigh. You looked at him and smiled a little before your hand drifted below the table, too, giving his leg a squeeze. 

When the girls wore themselves out, he left Sarah asleep on the couch, The Grinch on in the background, before he loaded the toy box into your trunk and then carried Sharon out, lowering her gently into her carseat. You buckled her in as she sleepily clutched her Barbie in one chubby hand and her Princess Leia action figure in the other. 

“Thanks for comin’,” Joel said, stepping close to you. “And for everything you did for me and for Sarah the last few weeks.” 

You smiled, leaning back against your car and tugging Joel against you, he smiled and laughed a little. 

“I was happy to,” you said, eyes shining in the moonlight. “So what do you think? Good Christmas?” 

He searched your eyes for a moment and slowly leaned in to kiss you again. Your smile broadened and you met him halfway, your fingers knotting in his shirt as you held him against you.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling just far enough away from you that he could look in your eyes again. “Best Christmas ever.” 

A/N: Thanks for reading this little holiday fic! I hope you enjoyed it, even though it went up a few days later than I'd really hoped.

Wishing you a beautiful holiday season with lots of love and laughter. Thank you for being here and spending some of it with me ❤️

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Kirishima gives Todoroki S*x Tips | Todoroki x Reader Fic

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋, Shoto Todoroki x Eijiro Kirishima Friendship

Genre: Fluff, Sex, Friendship, NSFW

CW: MDNI!, discussing sex, foreplay, p*rn, hickies

Shoto Todoroki doesn’t really get sex until he gets it.

He loves you and knows you want to do it…so naturally he does research. If there’s one thing Shoto is good at, it’s mastering a subject

When Kirishima loses his virginity, he lets Shoto ask him questions. They sit late into the night at the library, reviewing and analyzing Kirishima’s 30 minutes of action. Shoto takes notes and in that straightforward way of his, asks for Eijro’s opinions on positions, foreplay and hickies.

“Did you perform oral sex on her? Is the female anatomy confusing?” He asks, causing Eijiro to go red in the face. Eijiro nods yes to both. “It took a few minutes, but once I got into it, I figured it out pretty quickly!” He says earnestly. Shoto scribbles down a reminder to Google some detailed diagrams of the female body when he gets home.

 “Foreplay is super important, because girls need to, like, warm up before they’re ready to bone.” Eijiro adds, motioning for Shoto to keep taking notes.

“I didn’t know that.” Shoto blinks, surprised. To be fair, he had never really thought much about sex until you’d brought it up a few months earlier. He knew the rudimentary mechanics from middle school health class, but had never wondered what went into the act beyond the basics of reproduction.

“Shoto. My dude. This is going to be harder than I thought.” Eijiro puts his face in his hands. “How does someone our age have little to no knowledge about sex?”

“I wasn’t interested in it until now.” Shoto says flatly. “But now that Y/N wants to do it, I want to, too.”

Eijiro stares at Shoto thoughtfully through his fingers. “That was a pretty chivalrous response.” He admits, lifting his head from his hands. “You just want to make your girl happy, I can get behind that. But Shoto – if you don’t want to have sex, you don’t have to. Enthusiastic consent is key to solid intimacy.”

“I really want to do this.” Shoto says insistently. “I don’t really understand what all the hype is about, but I want to try it with y/n. I want to feel close to her that way. And maybe once I do it, I’ll understand.”

“Alright, man. Then I’ll help you. Consider me your Sex Expert. Your Sexpert!” Kirishima grins at his witty wordplay.

Shoto looks at him skeptically. “Haven’t you only had sex once, though? How much of an expert can you possibly be?”

Kirishima deflates. “I don’t see anyone else out in the library at 11pm giving you sex advice!”

“True.”

“So let me teach you what I know.” He says sagely. “Just call me your Sex Sensei!”

Shoto snorts out a laugh. “Pass.”

“Fine, be like that. Regardless, you are now my student. I will shepherd you into the next phase of your sex life with chivalry and grace.” Eijiro is really getting into the bit now. One look down at Shoto’s nervous face pulls him back down to Earth. “What’s wrong?”

“This is a lot. What if I’m bad at it? And what if y/n hates it?” Shoto closes his notebook and looks pleadingly at Kirishima with his mismatched eyes. “You’ve got to help me.”

“Calm down, man. It’s really not as big a deal as you think! And I’ve already committed to being your Sex Sensei, so we’re going to see this through together.” He motions for Shoto to open up his notebook again. “Now let’s start with the basics – have you ever watched porn?”

--------------- FIN for now! ------------------------------------------------

I'm working on a longer fic to really dig into this exploration for Shoto! I love the idea of Kirishima being such a bro and trying to help his friends however he can. I also LOVE the idea of Kirishima fucking someone once and believing that makes him the resident expert on sex.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Every Time You Walk By

Characters: Poe Dameron x reader

Summary: Poe has developed feelings for his best friend, but with a war to fight, will he ever get around to telling them?

Word Count: 1219 words

Prompt: Best Friends, Gentle Kiss, Shared Clothing, Holding Hands When Stressed.

A/N: This is the last of my celebration fics and it is for the lovely and wonderful @minigirl87 . Thank you to everyone who threw something at me, and I am sorry some of these took me so long!

Things used to be straightforward, and that was the way Poe liked it. He had a war to win, a galaxy to save, that was just his life. It fell into a rhythm of sorts, a simple melody in the symphonic masterpiece that was the galaxy, like an oboe making the overall opus richer, adding depth. That was the way he liked it, his life was full, he didn’t need any distractions, so why did his stupid brain keep returning to you?

Poe trusted you with his life, he’d had to, and your friendship meant a lot to him, but that was all this was, friendship. If he told himself that often enough, then maybe he could fool himself into believing it. Something had changed for him, and although he couldn’t pinpoint when that had started, he knew the exact moment he had realised.

Returning from a mission, one which had got a little dicey for a while there, he had climbed out of his ship and seen you running across the hanger. Your hair was a beautiful mess, his jacket wrapped around you over your combat gear. It could have been a trick of the light, but for just a moment, he could have sworn you glowed as you smiled at him. Your hug had knocked the air from his lungs, and it took a second before his brain caught up to what was going on and he returned your embrace. That was the moment, as he rested his head against yours, eyes closed, that he mentally uttered an expletive. That was the moment he knew he was in love with his best friend, and it was utterly hopeless.

Poe had continued with life, ignoring this nagging feeling, this desire to always be by your side. He was a little clingier, not that he would admit it. BB8 seemed to spend more time around you, and that had absolutely nothing to do with Poe asking the little droid to keep an eye out for you, it definitely did not provide him with an excuse to seek you out more often either. The war was the focus. He had to keep his head in the game.

The command room was silent, except from the broken, tinny voice emitting from the comms. It was supposed to have been a simple mission, just a small squadron on recon, but the firefight that had ensued was devastating. It had been an ambush; they’d had no chance.

Mackenzie’s voice narrated the action, panic evident despite him trying his best to hide it. Poe hung his head. It should have been him. He should have insisted they waited until he’d returned from Yavin 4. Logically, he knew that he couldn’t go on every mission, but right now, standing there with his fists clenched, he felt so helpless.

“Green 4 has been hit. Collins is down.”

A single tear of frustration and loss escaped from his right eye, and he hurriedly swiped it away with the back of his hand.

“They are right on my tail. There’s eight of them. I don’t think I can shake them.”

Poe felt a warm hand take his and he looked up in surprise. His eyes met yours and he could see the pain and sadness there he knew was reflected in his own. Some of the tension left his body, and he found his fingers interlacing with yours. The two of you stood, side by side, in silence as the inevitable outcome of the ambush played out over the comms.

As the line went to static, Poe felt the usual weight of guilt hit him. What he hadn’t expected was for you to squeeze his hand, a silent gesture that seemed to say it wasn’t his fault. His thumb tentatively ran over yours in reply, his way of telling you that he knew. No words were needed, and he wondered if this was because you were best friends or if it was his deeper feelings for you. The comfort he sensed at your touch suddenly felt selfish, and he pulled his hand away. The Resistance had just lost some good people, he could not allow himself the luxury of letting the world go a little fuzzy around the edges.

He tried to avoid you, he really did, but his feet seemed to have other ideas. His entire body longed to be close to you, even if it was simply sitting in the same room for a little while. There was just something about you that made things better. Every time you walked by, it was like he’d drank a shot of pure caff, and if you smiled..! Oh, maker, if you smiled at him, he felt invincible. True, there had been times when you smiled and he’d ended up tripping over something or walking into a doorway, but even those incidents couldn’t dampen the feeling of walking on air.

Rather than admit his feelings for you, he threw himself into his work. The sooner the war was over, the sooner he could focus on other things, right? And so, Commander Dameron burned the candle at both ends, accepting any and every assignment, often taking back-to-back missions.

It was late one night as he stumbled out of his ship, exhausted and aching, when he felt you beside him. Without a word, you slipped your hand around his waist and took some of his weight.

“You’re dead on your feet, Poe. Please tell me you aren’t planning to fly again before you’ve had some real rest.” The soft chastising tone of your voice made the corners of his lips quirk up a little. He knew you cared, knew you worried, but hearing it always made his heart jump.

“I’m gonna rest, sweetheart. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Well, someone clearly has to, because you’re not. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“Now that’s an offer.” He chuckled, not realising his inner monologue had escaped his lips.

“If that’s what it takes to get you to rest then I’ll come and tuck you in every night.”

Poe was too sleepy to respond, but his mind took that mental image and ran with it. A sleepy, goofy smile appeared on his face as he imagined falling asleep next to you every night.

It wasn’t too long before you got him to his quarters. Once inside, you’d made him lay down as you removed his boots. As soon as his back had hit the mattress, his body had begun to relax, allowing the exhaustion to take him. In that haze between consciousness and sleep, he felt you pull the thin blanket over him, tucking him in as promised. Poe couldn’t be certain, but he thought he felt your fingers brush his hair back from his face, and then the warmth of your breath fan over his skin. A soft warmth pressed to his forehead, had you just kissed him?

“Goodnight, Poe.”

He wanted to trace his fingers over the spot he was half certain you had gently kissed, but his body would no longer co-operate. Instead, he let out a contented sigh, his fingers twitching by his side. Maybe tomorrow he would return the sign of affection, perhaps even tell you how much you meant to him, but for now…

[lloydfrontera]

what do you think llojavi's child will be? I love reading your hc.

mmhhh i never really stopped to think about it tbh! kid fics aren't really my go-to and i'm terrified of having children myself so it's not something i tend to explore with my ships

but if i had to have a hc for them... i think they'd have a lot of children. all of them adopted.

it just makes sense for them as characters imo! they are both deeply compassionate individuals who know what it's like to lose both parents and know how much it means to be brought in to a loving family. they know.

they wouldn't be able to come across a child who needs what they received at one point and look away.

that plus lloyd is an only child, he always wanted a little sibling and was absolutely delighted to get julian, i think once he gets over the instinctual fear of "oh god what the fuck am i doing i don't know how to be a father" and is more comfortable in his role as parent he wouldn't be able to resist the idea of having a bunch of kids running around their home. i'm thinking maybe four. probably six. no more than eight.

but. i do think the first kid would be javier's fault.

in one of those rare occasions he's not glued to lloyd's side, he'd go out to run some errands or something and then come back with a semi-terrified look on his face and a far-too-small-for-their-age kid in his arms.

lloyd just,,, stares at them for a little bit before taking the kid and charge of the situation. he's never really had any experience with kids but they're just,,, people. in tiny. he knows people, he can work with that. his friendly and straightforward demeanor immediately wins over the child, making him relax and open up in a way that javier's warm but stilted demeanor weren't quite able to.

i'm thinking a four or five year old, just to really hammer down the parallels between javier and him. very tiny. with dark hair and dark eyes. the kind of features that don't really stand out in a crowd.

i think the two of them would think it's just something temporary, just until they find someone more suitable to raise a kid, a good family that could take him in.

neither of them really mentions the idea of keeping the child, at first because it's not even a possibility but then as the weeks pass by because they're just too wary of disrupting the routine they unconscionably created and actually having to take a decision about it.

but then one morning javier looks over during breakfast and there's lloyd pilling all sorts of food into the kid's plate, chatting him up the entire time, playfully teasing him into eating everything he can, the two of them very solemnly haggling and bargaining over just how many vegetables he has to eat in every meal and a wave of pure love and affection rushes through him and he realizes that. oh. he wants this to last forever.

he doesn't mention it tho. he knows lloyd has always talked about having an easy, relaxed life, free of any concerns and burdens. and raising a child is not an easy responsibility. spending the rest of his life at lloyd's side already feels like more than he deserves, he won't selfishly asks for more than lloyd is willing to give.

he will just enjoy however long this lasts and hope the separation won't hurt as much as he's bracing himself for.

meanwhile lloyd caught javier with the kid on top of him napping on a sunbeam like two weeks ago, both of them completely sprawled out and dead to the world, except when they unconsciously moved to chase the moving sunlight and then he immediately decided he was gonna keep this. them. all of it.

he already reached his limit on how many times he can lose his family. he's no longer letting anything else keep him from hoarding his loved ones like a dragon with their treasure.

and he's terrified to admit it but the pipsqueak has already burrowed his way into his heart and now heaven help the soul that tries to take him away from lloyd. he's not above biting.

that's precisely why he doesn't bring it up with javier because,,, he really doesn't know what would happen if javier isn't on board with the plan. he's not selfish enough to make a decision like this for the both of them but he really doesn't think he can give the kid up anymore.

so he just. doesn't say anything. he continues with the routine they've made and hopes time will be enough to make javier fall for the child the same way lloyd did already.

and then this goes on for a couple weeks because these two are terrible and i love them for it. but this is like. not great. it actually kind of really sucks for them but also for the child

it all comes crashing down when the poor kid breaks down on them at some point because someone told him they were giving him away and, hey, turns out, not telling a child who's been left on the streets to survive by himself what's the plan for them because you're too busy worrying your partner won't be on board with keeping him is not a great idea! because he's gonna be lowkey fretting about what will happen to him and ultimately freak out at the slightest suggestion that he's being abandoned again! who would've thought!

they both immediately try to comfort him but they can't get to the bottom of his fears and actually give him reassurance because they don't know if they can promise him anything because they don't know what the other is thinking.

that is until they make eye contact in the middle of comforting him and it's one of those perfect moments where they're in total sync and can have entire conversations with just one look. and they realize how stupid they've been. because of course the other also wanted the same thing. of course they would want to give this child the very same thing they've received from their loved ones. how could've they ever doubted that.

after that is just really a matter of convincing the kid that of course they're not giving him away, he's staying right there with them, they can be his family now if that's what he wants. which isn't really hard because apart from this one communication issue they have actually been pretty good improvised parents to the squirt. and now that they know for sure they will be his parents forever, they try even harder to be better.

so that's how they adopt their first child.

i could go into detail about the rest of the kids are adopted but. that would make for an even longer post and this is already way more than i wanted to write askjhdkss

this is,,, really not what you asked for but it's what came out when i sat down to answer this ask, so like. i hope you still like it nonnie and i'm really sorry 〒▽〒

[dei2dei]

CageBlade Recs List

While I write a bunch of CageBlade myself, I also like reading it. And in these low-Sonya times, there’s… not been a lot of it, so I want to shine a light on some of the fics that I enjoy, both old and new. There are lots of great fics with Sonya and Johnny out there, and everyone will have their faves: this is just a handful of ones I like!

CRITERIA: 

must be CageBlade-centric, not them appearing as side characters or a past relationship in another ship-centric fic.

must be a complete story, not one chapter as part of a large collection.

CONVERSATIONS IN THE DARK by CosmicTapestries (@cosmictapestries) : https://archiveofourown.org/works/33033778/chapters/81995701 , M. This is a great spin on a softer version of Johnny and Sonya and picking up where MKX leaves off. I love her turns of phrase, I love the progression in here, it’s just… *chef’s kiss* Everything she writes is great, and this particular piece is the beginning in a series of so many good stories.

A SMILE LIKE YOURS by Ceose: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595579 , G. This wrecks me every time I read it. A Teen Wolf fusion/AU using Linden Ashby as Johnny & also Sheriff Stilinski; what happens to Stiles’ mother in the show happens to Sonya here, and it’s beautiful and heartbreaking and I love it.

RUN TIME by GoogamooGirloftheWeek: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29124123, T. Post-MKX, Sonya concerned Johnny hasn’t been taking his meds and responding to her texts. When she goes to check on him, she finds something unexpected. It’s really deftly handled and the language play with the title and symbolism is fantastic.

EXHIBITION MATCH by jayiin (@thenotebookwizard): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50402827, G. I just love Sonya’s pride in Johnny in this, her confidence, the way she compliments him and is happy for him. It’s absolutely the kind of thing I can see her doing when she knows he’s not paying attention. It’s a fun glimpse into what could be. I MISS YOU by theladyspades: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19161892, M. I love the bit of vulnerability from Sonya in here. It’s sweet and simple and a fun series of moments.

LIGHT ME UP by RedInkat: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51820240, E. Sometimes you just need some straightforward shenanigans and smut and this fic provides. There are some great turns of phrase in here and it's a very playful fic! If you have a favorite CageBlade fic, share (replies/comments/tags/something!)??

[suzukiblu]

disappointed missing fearless

Cut for weird alien biology kinky porn but mostly just for length. Also, I don't know if there's an actual established ship name for Slobo/Kon but this is technically from a YJ polyam fic either way, so idk if it actually matters right now, hah.

Pretty sure I posted at least some of this excerpt before, but this SHOULD be the extended edition.

"The Boy Wonder just had to be our token straight," Kon grumbles, folding his arms. Which is whatever, fine, preferences are preferences and the dude's still his friend and he would still very literally die either for him or on his say-so, but is the idea of letting Kon go down on him every now and then and maybe also making out a little somewhere in there really that unappealing? Like, seriously? 

Bats are the freaking worst. 

"What's it matter?" Slobo asks, wrinkling his nose at him. 

"I mean, it doesn't matter-matter," Kon says with an exasperated sigh. "But also I just want to finally score some dick for once, man, and I still can't actually keep up with Bart's and Suzie only has one when she's in the right mood and Rob's isn't even into me, and I don't wanna go knock over a civilian for it, that's just–" 

"And that'd be all the options for dick currently available to your picky ass, yeah," Slobo cuts in dryly, leaning in towards him with a pointed look. Kon turns red. 

"Actually I kinda figured you were straight too," he says, glancing sidelong at the guy. "And very solidly monogamous, given all the time that you and Anita spend ignoring the rest of us in favor of rooms with doors that lock." 

"We ain't monogamous, she just don't like gettin' interrupted when she's in the mood. Though yeah, you're right about the straight thing," Slobo agrees with a dismissive shrug. "But also, look, I'm Czarnian. Which literally none of you bastiches are. And gonna be frank here, you and Anita got a lot more biological similarities to each other than Anita and a Czarnian chick would, so at this point I don't really give a shit what kind of hole I'm fraggin' so long as whoever it belongs to's got somethin' interestin' to say about the process." 

"Huh," Kon says, frowning to himself. "That literally never occurred to me as a thing that might be a thing, actually." 

"I mean, what, are you attracted to Branx and Bolovax Vikians and Karnans and Martians?" Slobo snorts dubiously. "Or frell, even Czarnians?" 

"Well, just the ones I like, but yeah," Kon says, a little puzzled by the question. They're all sentient species with free will and also he would absolutely let that one very specific Green Lantern just fucking step on him whenever the guy felt like it, so yeah, why wouldn't he be attracted to them? And . . . Kilowog, he's pretty sure said Green Lantern's name is? Kilowog's built like what a brick house wishes it could grow up and be. So Kon would definitely let him step on him. "Is that like . . . weird or something?" 

"Galactically speakin', yeah," Slobo says wryly. "Though I guess you're already a hybrid so I probably shoulda expected you to be less discriminatin' than the rest of the universe tends to." 

"So what, are you calling me a slut?" Kon snorts. "Like on a genetic level?" 

"Depends how many people you've screwed, galactically speakin'," Slobo says. 

"Not enough," Kon replies frankly. 

"Then yeah, pretty sure you're a slut," Slobo says with another shrug. "Especially if you miss dick bad enough to get in a snit on the couch over it." 

". . . I mean, okay, I haven't actually socialized with another dude's dick before," Kon admits grudgingly, making a face. "Unless watching gay porn counts, and to be honest I usually get bored if there's only one style of genitals onscreen so I don't do much of that. Just I just finally figured out that I fucking want dick and my options for getting it are frustratingly limited right now." 

"Then wanna actually socialize with mine?" Slobo suggests, which is an approach that Kon appreciates the straightforwardness of. "Seein' as it don't belong to a picky control freak or a hyperactive speedster or someone with a real fraggin' inconvenient tendency to turn intangible when they come." 

"Suzie does that?" Kon asks. 

"Accordin' to Anita," Slobo replies with a shrug. "And since I trust her with my literal fraggin' life at this point, I'm assumin' this ain't the thing she's picked to lie to me over." 

"Huh," Kon says. "Weird, but noted for future reference. And yeah, fuck it, let's socialize. Room with a lock, or . . . ?" 

"Naw, give Wonder Girl the chance to walk in on us, she wants to see your indestructible ass get wrecked real bad," Slobo says with a smirk, then sticks with that straightforward approach that Kon so rightly appreciates and immediately yanks his belt open and whips his dick out right there on the couch. It is not remotely proportionate to his build, and Kon definitely means that as a compliment. 

"Oh, is that the plan here?" Kon says, as someone whose mouth just went dry and who would also admittedly like to see his indestructible ass get wrecked for once. Like, that's a thing he'd like to get to do before he dies, that's all. 

"Damn right it is," Slobo says, smirking wider at him and giving his cock a meaningful squeeze. Kon glances down at it speculatively, wondering exactly how Czarnians fuck. Said cock is currently actively rising to the occasion, and also getting increasingly disproportionate to Slobo's build. 

Like. Very increasingly. 

Damn. 

"What'dya think? Wanna come on it, bastich?" Slobo asks with a leering grin and a very unsubtle tug. Kon flicks his eyes back to his face and just eyes him. 

. . . then he eyes his dick. 

It's actually, like, a very appealing dick. It might be a little smaller than Kon's own is, he thinks, but it's definitely comparable and still plenty damn big either way, all long and thick and heavy-looking, and it's got, like . . . ridges. Bumps. Textures. Like, Bad Dragon wishes it could design such a dick. 

. . . Jesus, actually, is that a knot at the base? And–

Oh. Okay. 

"Is your dick prehensile," Kon asks, officially just staring at it. 

It waves at him. 

"Is it?" Slobo asks with a smirk. 

"Fuck," Kon says as a downright vicious stab of arousal goes through his gut, and then he very suddenly feels very weird. Slobo cocks his head, looking surprised. 

Kon looks down at himself, because again, he feels weird. "Himself" is not there to be looked at. 

Well, like, it is. Just not in very . . . "him"-type fashion. 

"Huh," Kon says to the very nice pair of tits currently sitting all cute and perky under his S-shield. He blinks in absolute bemusement, and Slobo's expression lights up hungrily. 

"Shit, you really do like me, huh," he says, letting go of himself and reaching out to put his hands around Kon's suddenly very, very narrow waist. Like . . . way too far around, actually. That's . . . an experience. Wow. "Never had Kryptonian pussy before." 

Yeah, well, you're not the only one, Kon thinks only slightly hysterically.

"You can't get knocked up 'til you go through a full cycle, right, so can I stick it in raw?" Slobo asks like this is all just perfectly normal, which admittedly for all Kon knows about Slobo's life experience and alien biology in general it could in fact be. He thinks of several thousand reasons to say no, but given both who he is as a person and also how bad he really, really wants to finally score some dick for once . . .

"Yeah," he says, then half-reflexively flicks his eyes back down to Slobo's cock and licks his lips. Slobo grins. 

"Nice," he says. 

Anyway, Kon's suit lasts about five seconds after that. Which–it doesn't fit him quite right at the moment anyway, so it's whatever. It's very weird to see tits and ass and a statistically improbable amount of curves when he looks down at himself, but it's weirder feeling Slobo's hands and mouth roaming greedily all over said statistical improbabilities as the other pushes him down against the cushions. The prick hasn't even kissed him, which: rude much? 

Not that Kon's really complaining, because if he wanted "polite" that bad he wouldn't be socializing with Slobo at all, much less his dick, and Slobo is currently making his way down his body and clearly on a mission to kiss him somewhere. 

So yeah, the "weird" feelings are very rapidly losing out to the "holy shit, do that again" feelings. 

"Holy shit, do that again," Kon says. Slobo grins sharply up at him and then Kon meets his clit and his clit meets Slobo's very eager tongue and anyway Kon now officially and intimately understands why people who've got one bitch so damn much when a partner ignores it. Like wow, does he ever. "Ohhhhh my god. Oh my god oh my god oh my god–!" 

So that's pretty distracting, for at least a couple minutes there. 

Not that Kon's brain is in any condition to be noticing the passage of time right now. 

"Frag, you're already dripping. Wanna get off on my tongue a few times or just get straight to the main attraction?" Slobo asks as he hooks his hands around Kon's currently statistically improbable and also badly shaking thighs and licks his own very slick and shiny lips. Kon remembers the sight of the guy's big fat disproportionate dick very, very vividly, then immediately spreads his thighs as far as he can without the back of the couch interfering. 

Possibly he damages said back of the couch just a little bit in the process. 

Like, just barely. 

"Main attraction," he says firmly. Slobo grins at him again. 

"Damn, rolling out the red carpet here, ain't we," he says. "Gonna make a guy feel downright appreciated like this." 

"Put your dick in me right the fuck now or I will put you through the fucking wall, asshole," Kon threatens, and of course it's Slobo, so he just grins all the wider. 

"Fraggin' flirt," he says with obvious approval. 

Then he puts his dick in him. 

Kon's vision very literally whites out at the way Slobo feels sliding into him so big and hard and big and deep and big and good and he jerks up instinctively underneath him and makes some really, really undignified noises as his body seizes up. The couch might suffer a little more damage. Kon doesn't give the slightest bit of a fuck. 

"Holy shit, did you just fraggin' come?" Slobo asks in obvious delight. 

"Shut the fuck up," Kon barely gets out past the aftershocks making his whole damn body twitch and tremble under Slobo's, and Slobo laughs and sort of . . . rolls his hips, kind of, and Kon moans. 

"Shit, you're tight," Slobo says, sounding approving again, and this time in a way that makes Kon shudder even harder than he already is. "And soaked. Feels like I just stuck it in somebody's sloppy seconds. What do you think, bastich, want the whole thing in your snatch? Think you can take it?" 

"Yes," Kon chokes desperately, and Slobo does the only gentlemanly thing that Kon has ever seen him do, which is immediately just thrust into him balls deep. 

That is definitely a knot, yeah, Kon notes. 

And definitely Slobo's dick is prehensile. 

The literal only reason that Kon doesn't fucking scream is because they're in a building full of active superheroes and god fucking forbid somebody come and "save" him right now. Like, Cassie can watch if she really is into that, but if anybody in any way tries to fucking interrupt he is gonna straight up just become a supervillain. 

Unless it's a supervillain interrupting, he guesses, in which case he's just gonna take a page out of Wonder Woman's book and give them the Maxwell Lord special. 

Either way, he emphasizes deeply with Anita and her locked doors. 

Real deeply.