#yes. yes i need help . if this is going to stop happening and i can actually CHILL OUT

[maskedbyghost]

lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss

_______________________________________________

situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”

along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.

he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”

when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”

as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.

you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.

almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.

back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.

despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.

simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.

one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.

later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."

after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.

a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.

“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”

simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.

simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.

once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”

_______________________________________________

@daydreamerwoah

[tragedy-of-commons]

"You're burning up" + Aventurine?

"You're burning up."

Aventurine doesn't know what else to say, so he goes with those three words. Safe bet - the doting parents in all the movies and sitcoms say it just like that; with care and worry, palm splayed out across the ill's forehead.

And holy hell are you ill.

Collapsed on his lavish sofa, you groan in response, swatting his hand away. "I'm gonna be just fine..."

He's inclined to disagree. You're sweating buckets despite how he'd mashed the thermostat down to its limit - he even had to shrug on a jacket. Perhaps Aventurine would have poked fun at you for your intolerance, but he has enough decorum to hold his tongue. He really doesn't like seeing you so put out, as much as you're welcome to crash here.

"Your poker face could use some work. Save your words, we can hang out another time," he dismisses easily, bracing himself for your incoming opposition. He reluctantly breaks away from your side to amble over to the coffee table, beginning to clean up the remnants of game night.

"No way," in the corner of his eye, he notices you shifting restlessly, "finals are coming up. Won't have time after this..."

Aventurine sighs, sweeping his very nice clay chips into one hand while using the other to click open their case. This time of year, things become almost unbearably hectic. He has exams coming up in a few weeks himself, and though he never needs to study, he always adheres to your modus operandi of 'cram now, cry later'.

"Well, you're not going back to those dorms in that state."

"You sound like a dickhead," you murmur. "You think I wanna live there? Shitty thin walls... shitty dining hall food..."

He chuckles, snapping the case shut and dusting his hands of nonexistent dust. "You're cruder than usual when you're feverish."

Aventurine almost startles when you gasp. "I have a fever?!"

...and you're loopy, too.

He gets you to sit still with the promise of retrieving a fever reducer and some water. Aventurine roots through his bathroom cabinets, combing through his own extensive collection of self-care and skin products to reach where he keeps his medication.

It takes several minutes of crouching down on the tile for him to realize he doesn't have any. He clicks his tongue - well, it seems his own lifestyle has backfired on him once again. Aventurine doesn't get sick often, doesn't spend a lot of time at home, and has enough stubborn resilience to power through any ailment that might plague him.

But for you? The only reason he spends any time at all in this stupidly expensive penthouse?

Yeah, he'll make a quick trip to the drugstore.

When he walks back into the living room with his shoes on and wallet in his pocket, his heart warms. You've somehow slipped into an upside down position, hair spilling over the edge of the cushions. You somehow make it look comfortable, eyes closed and brow free of any creases.

"Does that help your sinuses?" he asks, really only to test if you're awake.

"You smell good..."

Aventurine ignores how those words make him feel, eyeing the door (and where your shoes are lined up neatly against the wall).

"I have to restock on Tylenol," he swallows. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

"Yes," you respond coherently this time.

Before he departs, he cajoles you into another position in case you throw up like that and end up choking - not without some strangely endearing complaints that you'd normally never voice, positive thing you are.

He doesn't get to the inside mat before you pipe up again, making him stop in his tracks.

"C'mere," you cough. "Please, humor a dying star's last wish..."

He really should be going so he can get your temperature down quicker, but leaving you on the sofa while you're about to cough up a lung strikes him as cruel. Aventurine gives into your dramatics - which happen to perfectly align with his own at times - and makes his way over to you.

"What is it? Did I forget something?" he sits down on the armrest, perching there with perfect balance. When you don't respond immediately, an odd little expression on your face, he rests his chin on his fist, pensive.

You hum.

He doesn't expect much; a request for another pillow, a plea for him to turn on a movie for you while he's out. Instead, he's caught off-guard as you throw an arm around his waist and pull, effectively whisking him off the high ground and right into your grasp.

Aventurine initially tenses but settles as you nuzzle closer. You're the only person in the world that can get away with loving him so easily.

"M'sorry I got sick on game night..." you whisper, uncaring that you're spreading your sickness (and your homely oxytocin).

He finds himself not caring much either.

"Do you believe me to be that hung up on you catching a cold?"

Aventurine's heart rabbits cruelly - he's sure you can hear it, with the way you're snuggled against him and whatnot, but maybe he'll get lucky like he always has, and you'll remain oblivious and perfect and unbothered, despite what you do to him.

You sniffle, words thick with exhaustion. "I dunno. Just stay."

He can't. Not just because he has to go pick up that Tylenol, but because he feels like he might die if you keep saying things like that.

"Five minutes," he acquiesces.

Aventurine waits for your celebration of victory, but no such thing comes. You're fast asleep, clinging to him like he's worth something.

He stays for a lot longer than five minutes, only wriggling out of your arms when he's sure you won't wake up to find him gone. When he returns later with his spoils (which also just so happen to include your favorite drink), you're cradling a pillow in his place.

Before Aventurine is your boyfriend or lover, he is a liar.

He is most definitely, unequivocally, one hundred percent hung up on you.

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren

a/n: modern au because i couldn't possibly resist. just wanted to mention here that u guys absolutely killed it with these quotes. you have my gratitude! also why is he like that. soggy wet cat

event post here

[avelera]

Ok, I feel like there's three writing concepts that Tumblr needs to get reacquainted with when it comes to understanding fiction:

Catharsis - Sometimes, fiction engages with horrifying, disgusting, painful, or scary concepts in order to bring about a positive experience for the reader. This can be through the hero defeating a disgusting evil, like defeating an abuser for example. One might also get catharsis not out of the defeat of something bad or uncomfortable, but simply from the experience of living it vicariously, such as joy at successfully hiding the body of a murder victim. There are literally countless examples of catharsis in fiction, but most importantly it must be understood, it is completely harmless to real people whether you're experiencing catharsis at something good happening or something bad happening that you get to live vicariously because it is literally fiction. Indeed, there's a lot of evidence that getting to experience catharsis through fiction at evil things, say, living vicariously through a fictional character committing adultery, even if you would never want to cheat on your own partner, actually helps purge the desire to do evil things oneself.

Pleasures of the genre - some genres have expectations that go with them. If you, as a writer, don't include those pleasures, you might turn off the audience. For example, the Western genre has a certain expectation of being set in the 19th c American West. There's usually cowboys and horses involved. If you write a story that's advertised as a "Western" that takes place entirely in a New York City apartment, it might be novel for the genre, but it might also piss off a bunch of readers who were expecting horses. You can do it, obviously, but don't be surprised if readers are confused and perhaps disinterested in the work. More salient to Tumblr perhaps - Marvel believes it is creating action/adventure superhero stories. If a Marvel movie suddenly became a psychological exploration of the internality of a character's relationships, without a single laser beam or fight scene in sight, Marvel expects its audience to be confused and unhappy. We, as fanfic writers and readers might be dying for that story, but that is not the pleasure of the genre that Marvel thinks its audience wants when it walks specifically into a superhero film.

Power Fantasy - this might be one of the most misunderstood or perhaps narrowly applied terms. Yes, sometimes a power fantasy is a 16 year old boy watching a superhero dude with 8 pack abs destroy the bad guy, get the girl, and save the day. Living vicariously through that character is definitely a power fantasy. BUT, a power fantasy can also be fantastical things that the audience wishes would happen in a way that would empower an audience member or make them happy. For example, a billionaire industrialist merchant of death like Tony Stark getting hit by his own weapons and deciding to become a crusader for justice in a way that actually helps normal people is, in fact, an audience power fantasy. We want to believe that if the right bad guy like a billionaire got the right comeuppance like a near-death experience at the hands of their own evils, they'd learn their lesson and become a better person. This is a power fantasy. This is not a thing that actually happens. It's honestly not that different from the power fantasy many gun owners have that if they own a gun, they're more likely to stop a crime in progress with their perfect marksmanship, rather than that they're more likely to kill or be killed by a member of their own family. Understanding the application of power fantasies in terms of good things you hope would happen happening in fiction is not only important for dissecting fiction as an intelligent viewer, it's also important in terms of recognizing when you're being influenced by certain stories and choosing what lesson you take away from it and what lesson (if any) you want to take away from it.

I just feel like these 3 terms are what I see most lacking in a lot of "discourse". Fiction is trying to engender emotion in the audience. Great fiction engenders a wide range of emotions in the viewer, not simply good emotions. Thoughtful fiction might (but not always!) try to impart a lesson. But great fiction can also just want to give you great emotions and make you think outside the usual box of your usual experiences. It's also completely fine for great fiction to just want to give you a great emotion experience like catharsis, or the thrill of a power fantasy. And I really wish these three separate but interrelated concepts were discussed more when it comes to dissecting fiction here on this site.

[acowardinmordor]

Risk and Reward

Steddie-adjacent. Tw: homophobia

I always love fics where Steve makes himself Eddie’s alibi while Eddie is still unconscious/in a coma. Knows that it will work because he knows in this town there is no way anyone would believe that Steve Harrington would come out if it wasn’t real. No one would believe it, because everyone knows that his parents are always gone, because his dad is in Congress railing against the gays and their depravity and how they deserve to die and burn.

Steve saying it. Signing an affidavit about it. Giving quotes to the ravenous press. It has to be true. And everyone who doesn’t think it’s disgusting think it’s the most romantic thing in the world.

The government was stepping in, all eyes were pointed at Munson, and he was going to be thrown in a cell for life. Or, to save the cost of the trial, he would have vanished somewhere between the hospital and the prison.

Steve coming out stops that. Airtight alibi, reinforced by the knowledge that there will be consequences.

Eddie is safe, and the government has changed tactics, is blaming dead Jason Carver for it all. Eddie wakes up six weeks later, shocked to wake up at all, and trusts his uncle enough to play along. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were dating the Harrington kid?’ Eddie knows how to tell a story that leaves space for a player to fill in their side. He tells stories about little moments and always describes things from his perspective. That way, if it contradicts the story that’s already out there, he can make a find quip about how he remembers it different.

When he finally gets a moment alone with his uncle, two days later, his guess gets confirmed. Wayne knows damn well that Eddie’s gayer than a maypole, and also knows that Eddie has called Steve his nemesis for years. Wayne knew from the second Steve said it that it was a lie, and knew it would work if it was believed.

The only thing confusing Eddie - well, the only thing in this tiny slice of his world - is why his fake boyfriend/no-longer-nemesis, isn’t in the hospital too, playing the part. If the guy was willing to say it at all, then he’d go all in. If there was one thing Eddie’d learned during those days, it was that Steve only ever did something at 100%

And yes, part of him feels terrible that Steve did this just to save him. He feels awful knowing that this is going to ruin a chance for a normal life. Wayne said the Indianapolis paper picked up a story about it. But at the same time, he’s so fucking grateful. Steve saved him. Again. And now, at least for a while, they’ll need to keep up the story. He’ll get to hang out with him, pretend they’re dating, stand close and cuddle closer. He also feels bad about how excited he is for that chance.

It’s the next morning when Eddie realizes his uncle dodged every question about why Steve wasn’t here. Wayne dodged almost every question after explaining what happened with Steve and the press and the Feds in the first weeks. Then, nothing.

The party visits him that afternoon, a veneer of joy stretched thin over something worse. Eddie’s first guess is that Red didn’t make it. But he hears her a moment later, complaining about ‘these stupid casts slowing me down’. The kids aren’t as good at dodging as Wayne is. Eddie gets the story quickly, such as it is.

The Harringtons came home from DC, gave a few speeches in praise of law enforcement against a serial killer. They visited the families of those that died.

They sent an assistant to find Steve in the hospital to deliver a message. No one else heard it, but the best guess is that it was a threat. Steve went with the assistant. They haven’t seen him since. When Dustin confronted the Harringtons at their last event in town, all they’d say was that ‘our son is getting the best help, and we love him dearly’

Eddie looks at Robin when he hears that for what it is. She drops the kids back home and begs a sympathetic nurse to let her talk to Eddie past visiting hours.

“It’s been a month since he vanished”

“Where?”

“We don’t know, we tried, even Hopper - he’s not dead - couldn’t find him. And this guy named Murray. We don’t know.”

“But…. ‘The best help’. You know that means…”

“I know”

“He’s, Christ, Buckley, he’s straight. Ladykiller. He’s straight and they sent him to some—“

“Yeah, but Eddie… I don’t know if I should… I guess, not that it matters now, and he never said anything, but he’s my best friend. He’s my soulmate. I know him and I think… if his dad wasn’t like he is… if he’d ever felt safe saying so… he knew they’d be furious when he came forward as your alibi, but he told me they’d just disown him, and it would be over. He was scared, but he was okay with what he thought was going to happen”

“I thought he hates me”

“He kinda did”

“Not anymore?”

“No.” There’s a pause where they both think about where Steve might be right now.

“Maybe he hates me again now.”

“I don’t think he would, but…”

And Eddie thinks how weird it is to see spastic Robin Buckley, who rambled in the Upside Down and always had more energy that she could contain, acting so subdued. No. So broken.

They both heard the Harringtons’ speeches and ads when he ran for office. They know what the man thinks about people like them. They both heard stories about what the places are like, where someone can go to ‘get help’

“Do you think I’ll ever get to thank him?”

“No.”

“Do you think we’ll ever see him again? You and the kids at least?”

She’s quiet for a long time, before she picks up her bag.

“If he ever gets to leave wherever they put him, and we ever see him, I don’t think he’ll be the person we knew anymore.”

[cassi-pokeblogging-hub]

Saying No

Okay so a conversation in a discord server inspired me to make this.

You guys can say no to things. You do not always have to "Yes And" everything that comes to you.

Like. Usually when we talk about rping, we talk about saying yes and. continuing on the scene, not shutting interaction down. We're pretty lucky with how this rp stuff works where in character denying and saying no CAN work a lot better than in standard improv without fully stopping the scene and kinda shutting it down, but that's not what I'm talking about.

I've seen a lot of people who kinda. Accidentally start god modding or kinda burst their way into plotlines without asking and like. This is public rp! Anyone can join! But there is a certain degree where you gotta stop first and ask or just not say it.

But sometimes people do not think first and just do. Maybe sending a magic anon that solves all of your oc's problems. Maybe they have dimension hopping powers and are like "Don't worry! I've come to your reality and I can help you get away from your problems instantly!", maybe your character really wants a mega stone and you have plans to have a whole thing about them working to get this mega stone and learning to mega evolving their partner and then someone mystery gifts or pelipper mails the item to you immediatly.

You don't have to "Yes, and" that. You can just say "No, you didn't do that". You are allowed to say no when someone crosses your boundaries and is affecting your plot.

Is someone trying to involve you in their plot without asking? "That is not happening in my character's universe" Is someone trying to say they're just there at a crucial event with your character when they never asked? "Your character is not able to be there. Please delete that post".

Yes And only goes so far. There is a time and a place where you will need to say No, and that is just as important to RP as going with the flow! If someone's fucking with your plot, its your job to tell them to stop. People can get involved, sure, but sometimes people try and get way more involved than what you're comfortable and its okay to tell them to back off.

I've also seen people feel that stuff like Muse Mixup Madness or Pelipper Mail are mandatory things they HAVE to do? You don't! You don't need to do anything even if others are! So I guess this is your reminder that you can ignore pelipper mail and magic anons and just asks in general that you dont like! you can turn pelipper mail and magic anons off completely! you can ignore peoples replies to your posts if they fuck with what you have going on. you can tell people they did not do things that would fuck with your characters and story. you can just not do muse mixup madness when it rolls around. you can just not do follower special events. you don't have to participate in anything you dont want, and you dont have to allow people to do whatever even if it makes you uncomfortable.

Other people can do what they want, but you have a right to say no when they try to involve you.

[writingrock]

before he leaves [1]

pairings: prohero! katsuki bakugou, prohero! eijiro kirishima, prohero! denki kaminari x reader (female) summary: your prohero husband is being called away to a two-week long mission. this is how he says goodbye.

notes: fluff, mild suggestive content, it's just really cute and sweet, I can't say much more.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: for @onlyisaa becuz apparantly putting bakugou in a timeout is unacceptable

Bakugou’s been called in for a mission overseas. It’s rare, but when it happens, you know it’s something serious. The night before, you couldn’t help but fuss over every little detail. You’d double-checked all of his luggage, then triple-checked it. And now you’re pacing around the room with your mind running through everything he might need. You’d gone over his gear so many times that even Bakugou, usually patient with your worry, had enough. 

“Damn it, woman,” he grumbled, grabbing you by the waist and physically dragging you to bed. You’d protested at first, but he ignored you, muttering under his breath, “You need to quit worrying so much, you’re driving me crazy.”

Despite his words, there was a softness in the way he pulled you into his arms, his grip firm but comforting. His frustration was just his way of masking how much he appreciated your care. He knew you worried because you loved him, but that didn’t stop him from teasing you about it. Even as you lay there, you could feel him quietly shaking his head in amusement, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk as he muttered, "My dear wife, always stressing." 

Still, as much as he tried to calm your nerves, there was a part of him that understood. Missions like this didn’t come often, and both of you knew the stakes. And despite the bravado, despite his confidence, Bakugou knew how hard it was for you every time he had to leave.

It’s five in the morning now, and you’re standing by the door, watching as he slips his phone and passport into his pocket. You stifle a yawn, your voice still groggy from sleep. “How long will you be gone again?”

“Two weeks,” he replies gruffly, his eyes meeting yours. You frown at his answer. Two weeks felt like forever without him. Did he really have to go? Your thoughts are full of protest, but you keep them to yourself.

“Are you sure you have everything?” you ask again, for what feels like the hundredth time. Bakugou lets out an exasperated groan, his head tilting back as he closes his eyes in frustration. 

“Woman, for the last time, yes, I’ve got everything,” he grumbles, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. His crimson eyes flick back to you, softening slightly despite the annoyance in his voice. “I’m not a damn rookie.”

You know he’s right, of course. Bakugou’s meticulous when it comes to preparation, probably more so than you are. Still, the thought of him leaving for two whole weeks on a dangerous mission makes your stomach twist in knots. You can’t help it— it’s in your nature to worry. And Bakugou knows that too.

He glances at you, and for a moment, his stern expression softens even more. He steps toward you, dropping his backpack onto the floor and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Hey,” he says, his voice lower now, gentler. “I’ve done this a million times. I’ll be fine.”

You nod, biting your lip, but he can see the lingering concern in your eyes. He sighs, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around you, strong and warm, and for a moment, you can pretend he’s not about to walk out the door.

“I’ve got everything, alright?” he murmurs against your hair. “Except maybe for one thing.”

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s that?”

He smirks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You. But I’ll be back before you know it.”

Does he really have to go?

“Yes, I have to go,” he grumbles, reading your thoughts as if they were spoken aloud. You groan softly and stay wrapped in his embrace. Two weeks without him. His strong, muscular arms, the ones you’ll miss most, tighten around you as you press your face against his broad chest, nuzzling into him with a quiet sigh. You take a deep inhale, filling your lungs with his familiar scent— the mix of his skin and that faint, rugged cologne you love so much. It’s comforting, grounding, and you cling to it, knowing it’ll be a while before you get to experience this again.

“I’ll miss you.” You softly whisper in his chest to which he chuckles. His arms seem to squeeze you a little tighter. 

“Yeah, I’ll miss you too,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, savouring the comfort of your presence. He’d definitely miss his pretty wife.

You look up, meeting his gaze. His crimson eyes, still soft with sleep, linger on you with that private smile he shows only to you. His sharp features seem gentler in the dim morning light, and for a moment, you both just exist in each other’s company.

Wordlessly, the both of you share a deep kiss. An intimate mix of love and longing. His hand cradles your cheek as your arms loop loosely around his neck. Reluctantly, the both of you pull away. You sigh softly from the loss of contact. He keeps you close as he gazes into your eyes, his forehead resting against yours. The beautiful eyes of his lover. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours in one last, tender kiss before stepping back. You pout a little as his arms fall away, but you know he has to leave.

“I love you,” you say, voice tinged with a reluctant acceptance.

“I love you too,” he replies.

You watch as he picks up his luggage and heads to the car. Standing in the doorway, you call out after him, your voice echoing through the quiet morning.

“Text me updates!”

“I will!”

“And when you’re on the plane—”

“I know!”

“And call me when you get to the hotel!”

“Dammit, woman, I know!” he yells back, a mix of exasperation and fondness in his tone.

Exactly an hour and thirty-seven minutes later, your phone buzzes with a message from him. He’s reached the airport. Twenty minutes later, another text arrives to tell you that he’s checked in. 

Two hours pass, and your phone lights up again with a photo of him and his colleagues on the jet. He looks as sharp as ever, though there’s the usual trace of annoyance in his expression. And next to him were sheepish looking Red Riot and ChargeBolt. His message follows right after: They were late. Typical.

You smile at his grumbling, imagining him sitting there, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. Even from thousands of miles away, it’s like he’s right there with you, sharing his usual complaints.

You watch Kirishima stretch in the morning light. His muscles ripples beneath his tanned skin as he works out the tension from his body. He’s seated at the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. The broad back you love so much, facing you. Kirishima’s back is adorned with battle scars, each with their own battle-hardened tale. The scars stretch over his powerful frame and you feel rather tempted to reach out to touch them.

As he stretches his arms out to the sides, twisting slightly to loosen up, your eyes skirt over the fresh scratches running along his skin. Scratches you left from the night before. The memory of it stirs something warm inside you, and you can’t help but let a soft giggle escape your lips.

Upon hearing your fit of giggles, he pauses mid-stretch. Glancing over his shoulder with a knowing smirk on his lips. "What’s so funny?" he teases, his voice still a little raspy from sleep, but there's an unmistakable playfulness in his tone. 

“Just admiring my work.” you comment, referring to the latest addition of scratches on his back. He chuckles softly, replaying the events of last night in his head. It was a rather vigorous night. He needed that time with you, though. With a two-week mission ahead, he already knows how much he’s going to miss you. 

He practically jumps back into bed, sweeping you into his strong, muscular arms as if he can't bear to be away from you for another second. His lips find yours in a tender kiss before he nuzzles into the curve of your neck, planting soft, fluttery kisses along your skin. His lips trace over the bite marks he left behind last night, a reminder of the intimacy. 

For a moment, there's only the sound of your steady breathing and the quiet intimacy of the morning. Then, you break the silence, your voice still soft and hazy from sleep. “Do you have to go?” Your hand gently combs through his messy red hair, and he responds with a low hum of affirmation, his teeth grazing your neck playfully, causing a shiver to run through you. 

“I don’t want to,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough, “but I have to.” 

He rises slightly, hovering over you, his gaze tender as he takes in your sleepy features. His hand, warm and calloused, cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as if memorizing every detail. He’s going to miss you—more than he can express.

You're the reason he’s not in the shower yet. The reason he’s still in bed, holding you close instead of gearing up or standing by the door. He’s prolonging every second he has with you, delaying the inevitable because leaving you feels harder than the mission itself. He knows he's late, that he should already be in the shower, getting ready for the mission. His gear should be laid out, his mind focused on the tasks ahead. But here he is, unable to leave your side.

He knows his hero partner will yell at him.

But how could he resist his beautiful wife?

You know he’s running late too, but you don’t care. Shifting up from the bed, you lazily loop your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his warm, broad back. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you settle into him.

“I’ll miss you,” you murmur, breathing in his familiar scent, already knowing you’ll be raiding his closet the moment he’s gone, wrapping yourself in whatever he leaves behind.

“I’ll miss you more,” Kirishima replies, his voice full of warmth. You can’t see the smile on his face, but you feel it in the way his muscles relax under your touch, the way his words come out soft and sincere.

What time is it? You glance at the digital clock on the bedside table. Six in the morning? He's definitely getting yelled at. A quiet chuckle escapes you as you loosen your grip around him.

“It’s six,” you say, a playful warning in your tone.

“I know,” he groans, clearly aware of the trouble he's in.

“He’s going to kill you.”

Kirishima just laughs softly. “I’ll survive—gotta come back to you.” His words make you laugh, and as you release him, he turns to face you with that toothy grin you’ve always loved.

Just as Kirishima leans in to kiss you, his phone rings, cutting the moment short. A loud groan escapes his lips as he checks the caller ID. He glances at you, a dry chuckle slipping out before he answers.

He doesn’t even need to speak— Bakugou’s voice is already blaring through the speaker, barking orders. You can hear it loud and clear, his usual demanding tone carrying through the room. “Get your ass up, Eijiro!” 

Kirishima doesn’t argue, knowing full well Bakugou had already anticipated this. With a quick tap, he ends the call, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand with a sigh. He knew he brought this on himself, but it’s far too early for all that yelling.

“You heard that, right?” Kirishima asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. 

You nod with a soft chuckle, still amused. “Yeah, pretty much. You should clean up,” you hum, playfully nudging him.

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Wanna join me?” 

“Eijiro.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbles, finally getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. His broad figure disappears behind the door, and you roll your eyes fondly, watching him go. As much as he’s procrastinating, you know he’ll eventually get it together—because, at the end of the day, he’s always reliable. Even if he’s late.

Before you know it, Kirishima is already by the door, fully dressed with his suitcase in hand. The image of him shirtless and relaxed on the bed feels like a distant memory as you stand in front of him, sharing one last deep kiss before he leaves. It’s slow and lingering, filled with the kind of warmth that you’ll hold onto while he’s gone. When you finally part, it’s with a soft peck on the lips, and a smile as you watch him step outside.

You wave as he loads his suitcase into the car, and he shoots you that familiar, reassuring grin before the door closes behind him. The car pulls away, and the house feels quieter already.

Two hours pass, and your phone buzzes with a new message. You open it to find an image of a rather grumpy-looking Dynamight, arms crossed and glaring from his seat on the plane. Next to him, Chargebolt is flashing a sheepish grin, holding up a peace sign. You can almost hear Bakugou grumbling under his breath about something ridiculous, probably annoyed with everything around him. 

Kirishima’s caption reads: “Already regretting this trip. Look at these idiots.” 

You laugh, texting him back quickly, already missing him but feeling a little lighter knowing he's surrounded by his friends and trusted co-workers. He’ll be in your arms again soon.

“Five more minutes.” 

Denki mumbles, his voice muffled as he snuggles deeper into your embrace. He’s still in bed, arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging like he’s never going to let go. You let out a soft hum as your fingers comb through his messy blond hair, the strands wild from sleep and so uniquely him. His head rests against your chest, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you look down at him—the pro-hero you love so much, completely content in your arms.

But this is also the very late pro-hero.

“You’re going to be late, Denks,” you murmur, your voice gentle but with a hint of amusement.

He grunts in reply, barely acknowledging your words as he shrugs and buries his face even further into your chest, clearly not bothered by the reality of the situation. “Don’t care,” he mutters, his voice rumbling against your skin. He’s warm, cosy, and in no rush to leave. Being tangled up with you is the only thing that matters in the world right now.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “You say that now, but wait until Bakugou gets on your case for being late again.”

“I’m not scared of him,” Denki just huffs, his arms tightening around you as if to say let him try. You know he’s dreading the inevitable lecture, but right now, he’d rather enjoy every last second with you. And honestly, you’re not complaining.

The two of you lay there peacefully, soaking in the morning light peeking through the windows. You’re already thinking about how much you’ll miss him during his two-week mission. It’s not often he’s called away for that long, but when he is, you understand. That’s the life of a pro-hero. And while the thought of being apart tugs at your heart, you couldn’t be more proud of him for what he does.

“I’ll miss you,” Denki murmurs into your skin, his breath warm against your chest as he looks up at you. His toned arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. His electrifying touch trails in soothing circles across your skin, making you feel that familiar buzz only he can give. He sighs softly, like he’s already dreading the distance. At that moment, you realise just how much you’re going to miss the way he holds you. The warmth of his affection that never fails to make you feel safe.

You smile down at him, your fingers still running through his messy blond hair. “What are you going to miss the most about me?” you ask playfully, your tone light, though a part of you genuinely wonders what his answer will be.

He pauses, his gaze drifting downward to your chest, a playful grin spreading across his face. You immediately catch on, rolling your eyes and swatting him lightly on the head. “Denki!” you scold, but you can’t help laughing as the both of you break into soft chuckles.

He rubs the back of his head, still grinning like a mischievous kid caught in the act. “What? Can you blame me?” he teases, but when he sees the look on your face, he lets out a small sigh, shaking his head as if to reset himself.

“Okay, okay,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Real answer now.”

Denki’s lips curl into a smile, but his eyes stay soft, thoughtful. “Everything,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “The way you smile at me when I walk through the door, the way you run your fingers through my hair like this…” He trails off, propping himself up on one elbow.

Looking deep into your eyes, his usual playful energy is tempered by the sincerity that only comes out in moments like these. “I’m gonna miss the way you make everything feel... normal. Like, when I’m out there, saving the day and dealing with all the hero stuff, it’s easy to forget who I really am sometimes. But with you,” he pauses, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes over your skin, “you remind me that I’m more than just a pro-hero. You remind me that I’m enough, just as I am. That I’m just Denki Kaminari.”

His words make your heart swell, and for a moment, you forget about the two weeks ahead. All that matters is here and now, with him in your arms, holding onto you like you’re the most important thing in his world.

Just then, his phone rings, interrupting the peaceful moment. As Denki picks it up, you glance at the screen and catch the time—half past six in the morning. Oh, he’s much later than you’d initially thought. It’s not Bakugou calling, but Kirishima instead. You can hear his deep, concerned voice on the other end, “Dude, get up. He’s already pissed.”

Before the words even fully register, Denki’s already scrambling, bolting upright and pulling on his boxers in a flurry of movement. The sudden shift from lazy cuddles to frantic dressing makes you burst out laughing. He’s rushing so fast that he practically trips over his own feet as he throws open the closet doors, rifling through his clothes in search of something to wear.

“How did you know I wasn’t already out the door?” Denki fires back at Kirishima, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder while simultaneously struggling to put his clothes on. His words are defensive, but the slight panic in his voice gives him away. He’s juggling a pair of pants in one hand, sliding them on while trying to pull a shirt over his head with the other, looking every bit the chaotic mess you love.

You can’t help but chuckle at the scene— Denki hopping around, trying to get his pants on without losing grip on the phone or his dignity. "Because if you were, you wouldn’t be half-dressed and panicking right now," you tease, watching as he stumbles into his shoes, still fumbling with his shirt.

Denki flashes you a sheepish grin, clearly caught, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he finally manages to get his pants on properly. “I was about to be out the door,” he mutters into the phone, knowing full well that no one’s buying it.

“Tell him I’m—” Denki starts as he finds his packed luggage. Thank god he packed the night before. 

“Already on your way?” Kirishima cuts in with a laugh. “Yeah, you can tell him that yourself. You know how he gets when we’re late. He’s already chewed me out. Hurry up man or you’re next.”

It’s hard to hold in your laughter at the situation. Denki shoots you a panicked glare as he starts moving out of the bedroom. “I’ll be out in two seconds!” he says into the phone, though both you and Kirishima know that’s a lie. 

You shake your head, still laughing softly, as you follow him out of the bedroom. Amused by the whirlwind that is your husband in a rush. He’s darting around the living room, frantically patting down his pockets to make sure he’s got everything. The sight is pure Denki— chaotic, yet somehow endearing.

As he’s about to bolt out the door, you catch sight of his passport sitting on the kitchen counter. With a smile, you grab it and walk over, holding it out to him just as he turns in circles, looking confused. “Looking for this?” you tease, waving the passport in front of his face.

His eyes light up with relief. “You’re a lifesaver,” he says, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Before he can rush off again, you grab his arm and pull him in for one last peck on the cheek. “Be safe, okay? And text me when you land.”

He flashes you that playful, electric grin, eyes twinkling. “Promise. Love you.” Then, with a wink, he’s out the door, shoes half-tied, practically running to avoid Bakugou’s wrath.

You lean against the doorframe, still smiling as you watch him disappear down the street. Even in his frantic state, there’s something about him that makes you fall in love with him all over again, every time.

Two hours later, your phone buzzes with a message from your husband. You unlock it to find several crying emojis, and you can already feel the laughter bubbling up before you even open the image. When you do, you’re greeted with a snapshot of chaos: a very pissed off Dynamight, glaring daggers at Denki, looking ready to lunge at him. Red Riot is in the background, struggling to hold Bakugou back, his arms wrapped around Dynamight in a full bear hug, clearly doing his best to keep things under control.

Denki’s sheepish grin isn’t doing him any favours either. His expression is simply the statement of "I'm in trouble". You stifle a laugh as you text him back. 

a/n: there will be a part two of this with deku, shoto and sero! I only had energy to write these three idiots xP

border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight

[lynzishell]

The Past 🩵 Asher

Once we’re seated and buckled, Lex turns to me to begin her interrogation before I even have a chance to pull out of the parking garage. “Okay, so, first things first, did you sleep with him?”

I glance over at her, surprised by her question. I figured that was implied considering we left the club together last night and I didn’t come home until this afternoon, but good for her for not making assumptions, I guess. “Yeah, I did,” I say, fighting a losing battle with the smile spreading across my face. 

She smacks me in the arm and gasps, “Really? How was it?”

This really isn’t the part of the night that I need to talk through, but I allow myself a moment to think about it anyway. I prop my arm up on the door so I can rest my head against my hand. My hair feels clean and soft, and still smells faintly of his shampoo, sparking a memory of running my hands over his body in the shower. The image makes my stomach flutter, and my voice comes out a little dreamy when I speak, “It was amazing.”

“Amazing? Well, I’m going to have follow-up questions.”

“And I won’t be answering any of those questions.”

“Ugh, fine,” she rolls her eyes in mock annoyance, “So, then what happened? How did things go from ‘amazing’ to you sobbing into my shoulder and getting snot all over my jacket?”

“I don’t know. Like, the whole night was great. It was fun, and he was so sweet, and it really felt like… It wasn't just a hook up, it was more than that. Or at least I thought so. Maybe I was just projecting or seeing what I wanted to see because I… fuck, I’m so embarrassed… whatever, I kinda put myself out there today, really thinking he’d reciprocate, but—”

“He didn’t?”

“No.”

“What did he say?”

“Same thing he always says. He doesn’t want to date me because we work together. He just wants to be friends. I don’t know, maybe I’m the asshole. How many times does he have to tell me he just wants to be friends? And I’m over here like, ‘are you sure? how ‘bout now?’ What the fuck is wrong with me? I need to stop.”

“Babe, c’mon, I think you’re being too hard on yourself. I know you. You wouldn’t do that if you didn’t really believe he felt the same way. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you, you’re not imagining it. Sounds to me like he’s saying one thing but acting another and he’s fucking with your head and that’s not okay. If he truly wants to be your friend, then he needs to act like a friend, and he’s not. If you ask me, he’s the asshole, and you deserve a hell of a lot better.”

“I hear you; I do. He’s not an asshole, though. He’s really not. I think maybe it’s more complicated than that. Like, he was so kind, and affectionate… I really felt like he cared. And then today, he just looked so sad when I was leaving. You know how he does sometimes. But I’ve never seen him more down than he looked today, and my heart just, I don’t know, I just want to take that sadness away. I feel like I could make him happy if he’d let me.”

“Careful, Ash. Don’t do that. Don’t fall into that trap of thinking you can rescue him or fix him or something. That’s some toxic co-dependent shit. Pretty sure you get enough of that with your sister.”

“Ow.” Leave it to Lex to stab you in the heart with her honesty. I respect it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

“Did you or did you not drop everything to rush out to the Bay to help her the second she asked?”

“Yes, but—”

“Are your parents home?”

“Yes.”

“So, in theory, they could help her with her baby furniture or whatever today?”

I let her words sink in. I’ve gotten better at setting boundaries with Iris, but apparently, I still have some work to do. It didn’t even feel like an option to say no to her today, but now that seems ridiculous. Now, I wish I hadn’t rushed out on Atlas. Maybe we could’ve had a nice day together. Maybe I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself if I wasn’t so frazzled and trying to make everyone happy all at once. Damn. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think I’m doing that with Atlas though. Like, sure, I want to make him happy when he’s sad, and maybe I overestimate my ability to do so, but I’ve never felt a need to ‘save’ him or whatever. It’s not like that. I just… I like him so much, Lex. I really do. I love spending time with him. And I love the way he makes me feel when we’re together. I could’ve sworn he felt the same way. I mean, just the way he…” my voice trails off as I remember all the ways he looked at me and smiled at me and kissed me and touched me, and then his words “Ash, you’re perfect, you know that?”, and the tenderness in his voice and in his eyes when he said it. The sweet way he kissed my forehead in the bathroom. The way he held me as we slept.

“The way he what? Hello? Where did you go?”

“You know what? I’m not fucking crazy. I’m not. I know he feels it too. So, maybe he really is just super weird about dating people he works with. I mean, on paper it seems logical, right? To not mix your professional life with your romantic one?”

“I don’t know. I guess? What are you getting at?”

“Well, it’s an easy enough obstacle to remove, don’t you think?”

“You’re gonna quit your job over a guy you’ve only known a few months?”

“Why not? It’s better than giving up on a great guy over some job I've only had a few months. I’m not just gonna quit though, don’t worry. I’ll get something else lined up first. But I have a decent portfolio. I don’t think it’ll be that hard.”

“Okay. Well, what if it doesn’t work? What if he’s full of shit, making excuses? What if you leave for him and he still just wants to be friends.”

“Honestly, at this point, if there’s any chance of me being his friend, I think I’ll need some distance for a while to get over him. And also, if I call his bluff and tell him I’m going to quit, and he still doesn’t want to be with me, then hopefully he’ll at least have the decency to tell me the real reason why. Otherwise, maybe I shouldn’t even try being his friend. Maybe, in that case, I’d have to face that he’s not who I thought he was and move on. But I won’t be able to do that unless I know for sure. So yeah, the more I think about it, this seems like the obvious solution regardless of the outcome.”

She pouts at me, clearly not happy, but she doesn’t have an argument against it, so she concedes, “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know.” I reach over and hold her hand, giving it a little squeeze. “Sorry about your jacket.”

She smiles at that, “It’s okay. Do you feel better at least?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Worth it then.”

Prev // Next

AN: Thank you so so much @madebycoffee for creating the perfect poses for this scene!!! This was my very first car scene and I was so nervous about it, but I love how it turned out and I couldn't have done it without you!! 🥹🩵🧡

[rena-lily]

Yall imagine an au where all the first years try to get Sebek to go to their dorm kind’ve like a trial period for like 3 days and then the dorm heads catch wind up this and then are also like hmmm that’d be interesting so they also try to convince Sebek. (They got permission from Crowley cause why not)Turns out Sebek fits very well in all of the dorms and he fits very well in a duo with each one of the first years in their dorms(trio in adeuce’s case ). Like Sebek is sometimes reprimanding Epel in Diasomnia but he’s with Epel on his distaste for the flavorless food(like be so fr atleast Lilia’s cooking has taste even if it’s bad…SHAME ON YOU) and they have a good time together(Vil firmly believes that Sebek should keep his hair down,he WILL rectify this atrocity AND ALSO WHERE WERE YOU SEBEK WHEN HE NEEDED A GOOD SINGER FOR VDC), let’s be honest Sebek is a rule followed through and through and he’s already acquainted with Riddle so he’d honestly do well in Heartslabyul especially as a trio with Adeuce as the braincell but still getting roped into their shenanigans(riddle is glad that atleast one of them knows the rules), Sebek is super athletic so Jack and him went on morning runs together a lot when he was at Savanaclaw and let’s be honest those two prob destroyed anyone that tried to challenge them together(Leona was lowkey impressed), and Ortho taught Sebek some new games while Idia occasionally showed Sebek new games(his favorite was animal crossing)(Idia guesses he doesn’t mind the freshman…BUT he’s very loud…) , surprisingly Sebek becomes friends with Floyd while in Octavinelle and manages to get out of their without getting into any contracts(Octa Trio liked him enough so they didn’t try to scam him..this is a one time thing tho!!!), and while he was in Scarabia, he got along well with Jamil(Sebek thinks he’s a cool human)(Now while Jamil doesn’t like extra work, he wouldn’t mind having an extra person to help him…and he GUESSES Sebek isn’t a bad person to hand out with)and he manages to keep Kalim out of trouble while Jamil was away but Kalim instead taught Sebek some dances(Kalim thinks Sebek is very fun).

Later on the Diasomnia trio find out and are like WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN???NO WAY(None of the housewardens informed Malleus😭) and then all of them end up fighting for Sebek and like Sebek just has like no fucking idea what’s going on. He’s just excited that so many people wanna hang out with him and he’s just like >:3. Kalim and Azul also gets in on it. Like Scarabia and Octavinelle also join in because "oh look new friend to party with" and "ah yes money" but the most important "I..I have a freshman now? *cri*"

I think a perfect ending for this is to see Sebek's skills in person. Because I believe the dorms (sans first years) are going to argue what skillset they can bring for Sebek not knowing that Sebek is absurdly and obliviously competent with most tasks. Like idk Sebek swordfighting with some random RSA prince charming and actually won something for NRC is a flex.

Cue Crowley and the other teachers fending off teachers from RSA to "STOP RECRUITING MY STUDENT" "BUT HE HAS POTENTIAL IN RSA-"

A green thunderbolt quickly shuts the mouth of the RSA professor. and now the Diasomnia trio is like “OMGGG NOT ONLY DO WE HAVE TO FIGHT THE FIRSTIES FOR SEBEK BUT NOW ALSO THE HOUSEWARDENS TF” and then they’re just fighting for Sebek’s attention . ALSO IT WOULD BE SO COOL IF SEBEK ALSO IS AQQUAINTED WITH SOMEONE IN RSA LIKE YOU AFTER THE SWORDFIGHTING THING AND THEYRE LIKE “you knowwww Sebek you should totes come to RSA” (he somehow befriended the RSA student he beat and now they have weekly hangouts)(first years are not happy about this)and then now everyone is fighting for Sebek so now the staff are trying to fend off RSA staff and students but everyone is also trying to get Sebek to join their dorms.

[daydaydayrk420]

I don't need a sugar daddy

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) x male reader

⚠️Car sex, drunk y/n, dom bottom Logan, sub top y/n⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

______________________________________________________________

Y/N. One of the richest men in this economy.

People call him Lucky. So rich at 25. Well, he has his grandfather to thank for that. But is he happy? No. Not really. Sure he can buy everything he wants. But does he have what a person really needs most?

"Don't let go, Jack..." The TV plays quietly as y/n is cooking in his kitchen. The wifi dropped out so he's stuck with cable. Lucky for him only romance movies seem to playing. What a way to rub it in. It's like TV knows he's single and lonely.

Y/n's a businessman. Meaning he goes to a lot of meetings. He also often goes to red carpets and whatnot, which means he frequently uses a limo.

Every time the same limo. Same driver.

Recently though. His favorite limo driver seemed to get worse in health and his car had bullet holes.

"Logan it's been two weeks and you still haven't fixed your car." Y/n said as he walked towards the limo. Logan just huffs and finishes his cigar. "If you need money you can just ask ya know." Y/n added. Logan opens his door. "I don't want a sugar daddy." He grumbled. The younger man just laughs. "That's not what I was suggesting. But I'm not opposed to it." He winks at the older man and sits in the car.

Logan's glad the younger man is already in the car so he can't see the faint blush appearing on his cheeks.

Another week goes by.

"Logan seriously what happened to your car? Just get it fixed and put the bill on my name." Y/n said as he handed Logan a check. Logan rolls his eyes and closes the back door of the limo. "I told you y/n. I don't want a sugar daddy." "You may not want one but you definitely need one." Y/n said and put the check in Logan's breast pocket.

"Take extra if you need. Fuck take enough to buy that boat of yours you keep checking on. Just don't lie to me. I know you need the money more than I do." Y/n said with a strict tone that made Logan's knees weak. Thankfully he's leaning on his limo so it's not visible.

Later that night Logan is picking Y/n up from the party he drove him to earlier. The younger man is obviously drunk. And seems to be in a good mood.

"Jeez. You look happy." Logan scoffs and helps the wobbly man into the car. Y/n giggles and runs his hand over the older man's chest. "But you don't. Maybe I should help?" He giggled. Logan rolls his eyes and sits him in the limo. He walks around the car. He stops by the drivers door and takes a moment to calm him mind.

It's not the first time he has seen y/n drunk. But every time the younger man seems to get more horny.

Once he mentally prepared himself he got in the car and turned it on. He looks into the review mirror briefly before he starts driving.

"Looogann" Y/n sang. The older man chuckles. It's starting. "loooogannn" the younger man laughs and walks towards the front of the limo. "Why aren't you responding Logan?" He giggles as he pokes his head through the small window separating them. Logan looks at him briefly and shakes his head. "Get back into your seat Damien." The younger man huffs but does as he's told anyway.

He goes back to the back of the car and flops down. He huffs and looks out of the window. "Play some music please."

The older man nods and turns on the radio. Y/n keeps staring out the window. Even when the car is on a red light.

Logan looks through the review mirror and watches how the younger man is doing. He doesn't want to clean up vomit from the carpet of his limo. He paused once he saw the bulge in Y/n's pants. Yes, whenever y/n is drunk and Logan is picking him up, he gets flirty, but he's never gotten a boner. And yes, he did have some people flash him here and there, but he doesn't mind.

But the fact that it's y/n that's building through his pants is... Exciting him. So when the light turns red he starts driving again. But he turns a different way.

"Hey slow down handsome, you missed our turn." Y/n said. "There was an accident on that road we gotta go around." Logan lied. The younger man shrugs and sits back. He's known Logan long enough to trust him. He knows he's lying of course. But he also knows that Logan lies when there's something for him.

Maybe he's noticed the boner in his pants. Y/n thinks to himself as he looks at the said boner. He gets an idea. The younger man looks up and keeps his eyes on Logan. He slowly starts to palm himself through his pants. He doesn't bother with hiding his moans. It's what he wants.

He wants Logan to hear him. To see him. Watch him.

So he reaches his hand into his underwear. That gets him to moan loudly and throw his head back. He's been so pent up all night that his body responds to everything. That moan catches the older man's attention. Logan looks into the mirror and practically freezes. Thankfully, they're on a red light, so there's nothing to worry about.

Y/n is sitting with his pants undone, legs spread as far as possible, head back, mouth open, and his hand steadily stroking.

A car honking from behind them snaps Logan out of his thoughts and focuses on the road again.

Y/n smirks. He pulls himself out of his pants and strokes faster. "Oh, Logan." He moans louder than before on purpose. He watches through the small mirror for any sign of the older man's reaction.

He can't see anything. But Logan is biting his lip until it bleeds and heals, and repeats. His pants are also getting tighter. Y/n lets out a huff and throws his head back. He keeps moving his hand in ways that make his mind spin.

Logan keeps glancing into the review mirror to watch the younger man practically melt into the leather seat. The longer he watches the tighter his pants get. He huffs and shifts in his seat. Logan tries his best to focus on the road but the moans from the back of the car keep distracting him.

The fact that the younger man keeps moaning the older man's name doesn't help.

"Ah fuck Logan!" Y/n cries out as his body shakes with orgasm. Logan's had enough. He makes a sharp turn towards an old parking lot which causes Y/n to fall to his side onto the seats.

"What was that about?" The younger man asks once the car is parked. But Logan doesn't respond because he's already out of the car, walking towards the back.

The younger man just watches in confusion. But the moment the door opens and there stands the older man with a very clear boner makes y/n's eyes widen.

Logan climbs in and shuts the door. He starts to undress. "Get on the floor." He ordered. The younger man visibly shivered and laid down. The older man scoffed and kicked off his pants. "So willing. How pathetic." He nutters. Y/n shiveres.

"Is this what you want? Hm? An old man to be your sugar baby? An old man that will use you for money and sex?" Y/n only moans in response.

"Well, technically, I'd be the one using you for sex -" "I don't care." The older man huffed at the sudden correction. The smaller man immediately closed his mouth and nodded.

Logan finally removes his boxers. Y/n's eyes widen at the big size that the older man has the burden to carry around. It's a shame that it's completely useless. Logan straddles the younger man and wastes no time to sink down onto the smaller dick. Y/n, in his drunken state, doesn't think about prep. All he can think about is tight, tight, tight. "Oh fuck" he throws his head back and lets his jaw drop into a silent scream.

Logan groans and rats his hands on y/n's chest for leverage. He starts to bounce. The car bounces and their moans are heard through the whole parking lot.

"Fuck, look at you. So wrecked by an old man riding you. Are you that desperate for me? All these months? Is this what you wanted?" Logan practically growled when the smaller man's nails dug into the flesh of his thighs. He sped up his bouncing. The car started creaking against the weight of Logan's constant movement.

Y/n whimpered as his hips started to go sore. Logan doesn't look it but he's heavy. Y/n doesn't know that the older man, who's riding him like a cowboy chased by a sheriff, is a mutant. So he has no explanation about his weight. But he's not complaining. He loves that he'll feel him tomorrow and maybe the whole week.

"You look so blissful. You haven't even cummed yet." The older man groans and shifts to different angles until he finds the right spot. Y/n only gives a sheepish and tired smile. Logan scoffs and leans back. Resting his hands by the smaller man's legs. He moans loudly once he finally hits that spot he was searching for.

He bounces harder. His cock slaps against his belly. Y/n watches the way it bounces. Logan is definitely the one with the big prize here but the fact that he's still the one who has his ass stuffed with a dick is so arousing for the smaller man.

"Logan, I'm close," y/n whines and arches his back. Logan groans and throws his head back. "Fuck y/n."

The younger man sits up and runs his hands over the older man's bare and arched body. He kisses every spot he can and marks it. But because of his drunken state, he doesn't notice how they heal almost instantly. The older man shivers. "Cum with me." He groans and uses one hand to grip onto y/n's shirt. Y/n whines and nods with desperation.

Logan lets out a couple of low grunts before he cums all over y/n's shirt and his belly. Y/n follows shortly after and spills into the other man. He holds his hips bruising tight to keep him in place. Their bodies shake from the intense orgasm. Y/n peppers the older man's chest as he pulls him to lie down. Logan hummed. Suddenly, a cold breeze flew through the car from the front window that had been left slightly open.

Logan shivers, considering he's the only one fully undressed. He doesn't know where his clothes are because he threw them around and is too lazy to search. Y/n notices the shiver and sits up. He removes his jacket and covers Logan with it. The older man smiles at the gesture. "Always a gentleman huh?"

The smaller man smiled as he laid back and pulled Logan close for warmth and urge to cuddle. One the older man got snuggled into the jacket he runs his fingers through the younger man's hair. They lay like that, with their eyes closed and soft smiles on their faces, for a while.

"I guess I could get used to having a sugar daddy." Logan hummed. Y/n snorts and buries his face in the chest of salt and pepper hair. Logan in return buried his face in the smaller man's hair and held him close. He threw one leg over his hip to be as close as possible.

"I think we should be more than a sugar relationship." Y/n murmures. "But I will still give you money when you need it." The older man chuckles at that.

"Alright rich Maggie. You won me over." "Finally." Logan laughs at the smaller man's instant reply. The younger man smiles and leans in for a kiss. The kiss is soft. Logan isn't used to soft kisses but fuck did it melt his heart.

"I should go and close the window. You'll freeze to death." Y/n sits up but he's pulled right back. "You're not leaving."

The younger man laughs and kisses the older man's shoulder a couple of times. "Logan the night is gonna be cold plus it'll be raining."

"....Fine." Logan lets go of the smaller man who heads towards the front. He closes the window and locks the door. He puts the heater on so they can get at least a little warmer before going to sleep.

Logan pulls him right back the moment the smaller man sits down. Y/n chuckles and lifts Logan's thing over his hip again so they can be in their previous position. "Didn't think you were this cuddly."

"People never do. They always say that a mutant like me is not a good man, a cuddler at that." Logan said before thinking. His secret is out. Y/n now knows he's a mutant.

"A what?!"

[in1-nutshell]

Hi! I was wondering if we could please have a continuation of TFE Silver Aid? Where Silver just got her memories back and is leading Starscream to where Skyfire is. Maybe while that is happening, Robbie and Mo are explaining to the others the memories that they saw, and the reactions from Megatron, Optimus and Elita?

I did this one more on the rescue than the bots reaction, they will come in another post.

Hope you enjoy!

Silver Aid rescues Skyfire

SFW, Platonic, Slight Angsts, Cybertronian (Techno organic) reader

TFE

It wasn’t everyday an Autobot truly left Starscream speechless.

And it wasn’t every day that Starscream suddenly found himself with the answer to an incident predating the war.

Now thinking about all his interactions with Silver Aid, he feels a bit embarrassed that he never put her and E-2 together.

While Silver Aid was retelling a short version of what happened on the day of the incident, Starscream couldn’t help but notice some of the similarities she had before the war.

Minus some blank spaces, the obvious alt mode change and some quirks she picked up on Earth, it was practically the same bot.

Starscream: “Does Megatron know about… this?” Silver Aid shook her helm, almost sadly. Silver Aid: “As soon as I remembered most of my past, I couldn’t stop myself from running. And anyways I don’t quite know how I’m going to break it to them.” Starscream: “Yes, quite a predicament.” Silver Aid looks down. Starscream clears his throat. Starscream: “And Skyfire? You claim to know where he is.” Silver Aid: “About 99.98% sure.” Starscream: “And if you’re lying?” Silver Aid: “Starscream, I just found out who I really am; what happened to my sister, my best friends, and my former life. My former life is gone. What do I have to lose?” Starscream: “… Do you have the location?” Silver Aid: “I should have the general area.” Starscream hums: “And what will you do for the Decepticon cause in return?” Silver Aid thinks for a second, before turning to the Seeker. Silver Aid: “We both know getting back Sky is more than enough… but I could offer you and the others professional medical treatment. I know for a fact you do not have a medic and field kits are only going to serve you for so long.” Starscream waits a minute before holding out his servo. Starscream: “Deal?” Silver Aid wastes no time in clasping her servo in his. Silver Aid: “Deal.”

So now here he was.

Flying straight forwards one of Earth’s coldest regions; a spider bot clinging to his wings; and some aerial Decepticon’s to accompany them.

Starscream originally wanted to bring just Nova Storm and Skywarp, but Soundwave found out about this ‘rescue mission’ and wanted to come.

Soon enough Silver tapped his wing.

The signal to stop.

As the four cons landed, Silver Aid, still in her spider form, began tapping the thick ice beneath them.

After a couple more taps, she made an X marking where the Seekers were to melt the ice.

It took a matter of minutes before a decent hole was formed.

The water was frigid and dark.

Nova Storm: “Why melt here? There’s nothing but water here.” Silver Aid starts taking out some webbing: “Exactly. To make a long story short, Skyfire is right under our optics.” Skywarp: “I’m not following. You said we were going to get some bot but there’s nothing here.” Silver Aid begins to braid several bands of webbing, making them thicker. Silver Aid: “He’s here all right. Maybe not in this exact spot, but he’s close enough.” Skywarp: “Where?” Soundwave tilted the Seekers face to the hole. Soundwave: “Down there.” Skywarp quickly gets away from the hole. Skywarp: “There is no way I’m going in there!” Silver Aid begins to pass the thick webbing to the Cons. Silver Aid: “Of course not. I am.” The Cons look at her shocked. Silver Aid: “I can find Skyfire easier than you four combined in the dark. Plus, we’re going to need you as dry and warm as possible if we’re going to get him airborne.” Silver Aid firmly ties the ending of the webbing to her midsection. Silver Aid: “Remember to pull as hard as you can when I tug twice.” Starscream: “Tug wha—” SPLASH! Silver Aid’s frame quickly disappeared into the dark waters beneath them. Skywarp: “SWEET PRIMUS SHE JUMPED!” Nova Storm: “I didn’t—how—can bots really survive that? Bots like her?” Soundwave and Starscream still hadn’t looked away from the hole. Starscream: “Only one way to find out…”

Starscream wasn’t going to admit it, but those couple of minutes were some of the most suspenseful minutes of his life.

Everyone was waiting for any sign of a tug or pull from the webbing.

The sharp tugs nearly caught them off guard, but they were ready and flew up.

The former second in command swears he pulled something while pulling at the webbing.

Finally, the ice broke.

The Cons could not believe their optics.

Silver Aid was right.

In a carefully weaved netting was a large white bot and a familiar spider clinging on.

It was mutually agreed that they would not touch the ice again.

If the ice could swallow a mech that size, there was no telling what it could do to them.

Silver Aid just clung to Skyfire’s armor shivering and slightly crying.

Skywarp thankfully had enough energy to warp them all back to the base.

Skywarp sits down when they get to the base. Skywarp: “I need to lay down…” Nova Storm helps Skywarp up. Nova Storm: “I’ll take ‘Warp to the habsuite.” Soundwave helps Silver Aid off Skyfire. The spider tries to transform into her bipede self but is swiftly stopped by Soundwave and Starscream. Soundwave: “Rest. No use if your T-cog malfunctions.” Silver Aid just nods tiredly. Soundwave leads Silver Aid into one of the warmer habsuites in the base. Starscream stares at Skyfire, almost studying him. He looks around before gently taking his larger servo in his. There was a gentle hum near his chassis. His spark was still running. Starscream: “Welcome back… old friend…”

[rottenpumpkin13]

Genesis challenged Sephiroth to lick a hallucinogen frog and for some reason he takes the bet what happens

*Sephiroth is duct taped to a chair*

Zack: What happened to him?

Genesis: I challenged him to lick that magical frog over there, but then he started having visions of a future where he reunites with his mother and burns down a village. Then he started saying how he needs to go to Nibelheim, talking about how "nothing can stop Jenova's rule," and then he tried to escape so I taped him to the chair.

Zack:

Genesis: I now have no idea what to do.

Zack: Why is he looking at us with evil in his gaze?

Genesis: Just ignore it and help me.

Zack: Okay well first things first, I know exactly what to do.

*Sephiroth slides the chair over to the door*

Genesis: You do?

*Sephiroth slides closer*

Zack: Yes.

*Zack walks over to the frog, wipes its head, and then puts it on his shoulder*

Zack: You should be ashamed of yourself.

Genesis: You're upset with me for disrespecting the frog.

*Sephiroth is even closer to the door*

Zack: I am. you shouldn't have—HE'S ESCAPING

Genesis: GRAB HIM

[gloveslut]

oda died. chuuya has no idea.

babe, i'm back. ... hey, what's going on?

i'm leaving.

you're what? 'samu, did something happen?

stop fucking using that tone. or my name.

what the fuck? can you explain?

explain what?

everything?!

you knew it was only a matter of time. i don't know why you act surprised.

you don't wanna talk about it?

no.

...where to?

none of your business.

but osa- listen, you swore you wouldn't- ever-

i didn't swear shit to mafia.

...fuck no. that's not how you talk to me, you fucking piece of shit.

get off of me.

you're leaving me too! you swore shit to me!

you're nothing more than one of my mistakes.

i know you're lying, fuck, what's gotten into you?

i'm not lying, i can't bear even looking at you now.

but why? dazai, it's unfair to-

oh, and you're always fair to me? i know you're seeing someone else.

...who? tell me who told you that and i'll rip them apart, because it's fucking bullshit.

you're bullshit. all of you. it's your nature. quit playing the victim.

this is ridiculous-

and what are you gonna do about it? beg for me to stay? again? aren't you tired?

you know what? i am. because saying shit like that out of blue is too low, even for you.

i need to pack my things, get out of my-

who's blood is that? the hell is-

mine! it's mine cause i felt uneasy! stop sniffing around, you're not helping!

this doesn't look like- like- you know, there's too much of it, dazai, i don't understand-

you don't need to understand, chuuya, please, stop trying to get closer. you're not special. i'm not gonna take you with me so we can run off into the sunset.

but you can't do it completely on your own, god, are you even here with me?

i'm the one thinking critically right now. i can get killed otherwise, and i'm not gonna be alone.

...you can't just throw it at me like that. can i at least know when it started?

when what started?

well, your falling out? i guess i should've seen it coming with the way you hated introducing me to literally anyone.

i'm not here to fight about it with you.

but you accused me of cheating first thing i came in, idiot!-

i'm not- i was talking about him.

who? ...odasaku? ... fuck, i'm sorry for assuming- whatever, you do realise he's not gonna be here for you forever?

...chuuya, please.

i'm not trying to scare you off and obviously i'm not any better but-

please stop. some... people were here, but they left, and it's not so bad. it's gonna be fine and we're gonna find the best place to hide, i don't care what you think of it, we're gonna be- fine-

honey... i didn't mean to make it worse, it's o-

no it's not! you know nothing about me or my friends, i'm begging you- just- fuck off-

i know it's hard and-

don't touch me! ... god, just go away.

...so you mean it.

yes. i fucking do. now leave. you can get suicidal and stick around this burnt house as long as you want later.

...fuck you. i can't stand you anymore.

oh yeah? news to me.

yeah, cause i fucking loved you! i put everything i had eating me from inside away and stayed with you up untill this point. i made my whole life evolve around you. jesus, i even grew my hair for you!

uh-huh.

and guess what! i never fucking liked it this way. i barely got anything out of whatever we had going on. you didn't even wanna give it a name. cause i'd eat it up. and i did.

right.

fuck, dazai, can't you have a heart for a minute?

yeah no, not around someone who thinks of me as crazy, but thanks.

i don't- what the fuck are you talking about?

all the... nice treatment you gave me was always based purely on the fact that i'm fucking broken and that you should fix me. not only it's incredibly fucked up, you also just can't. you always play god here and there but you don't carry the power of one, not even close.

now, i didn't even-

chuuya, please. i'm asking kindly. i can easily get it over with, but i don't think it'd be either rational or pleasant for you.

...just like this?

yeah. just like this. if you can't accept that you're not needed, then you earn all the hostility. i'm done with all this shit. let us both finally have peace. ... that look doesn't exactly evoke peaceful feelings in me.

i... i have so much to say, to- to ask before- and there's not enough time- huh, it seems like it's never the time. i don't know if i should waste my chance, though.

i mean, if you realise how useless all of our conversations ever were...

...

woah. okay. ... one last question.

if you promise to never talk to me again, go on.

...did you- it's hard not to- ...well, i know someone died. i just have to know, are you the cause?

yes and no. unfortunately, i didn't get to kill anyone this time. but i'm also at fault. great one. i'm at hurry. so may i be excused? ... you better not show up in my life later on. not necessarily because you're so distractive, it's just the way it- it has to be. have fun around here, but be cautious. you never know where your line's gonna end. or when you're gonna lose someone. i guess it would be even more heartbreaking to you, 'normal people'.

wait, are you saying-

i thought you stopped bothering me. ...nevermind. do whatever you want.

i can't believe you're doing this to me.

please, move.

dazai- baby, i was only trying to-

now, you shut it and let me go or i'll slit your throat with this shiny thing. ... cool. oh, and... your letters or anything like that will never reach me. we have nothing to discuss. nothing that is worth the effort. i also think you said everything you wanted to. ...thank you- for, uh, not whining too much. see you in hell.

[pink-koi-lovejoy]

ooc message (CW- mentions of SH and SA)

so…

hey

I’m going to be adding onto the whole Jack train again

let me preface this by saying I’m not a victim of anything and was not involved with the Circe blog until now, where I’ve looked for more details

ever since the issue, Jack and HIS PARTNER (Can confirm: Real. Stop calling him manipulative, stop calling him fake. Yes, he is NOT using his real name. Neither is Jack.) have stopped using tumblr, and may be for a while due to extensive hate.

There are concerns about Jack never mentioning SH outside of jokes. Keep in mind this is a roleplay blog. He doesn’t have to share his personal life. Also, if the idea of the blog being an escape was true, than he HAS mentioned it. It’s how I found the blog- an rp scenario (with warnings, if I remember) involving sh in the starter.

ther are Concerns about Jack never before mentioning having a boyfriend and/or claiming to be single. Again, it’s a roleplay blog. Maybe he was talking about his character. Maybe he wasn’t comfortable sharing his personal life online. Is that so crazy?

I have contact to Jack outside of Tumblr, and my main focus is to help him any way I can, keep him updated, and prevent this from happening again. Jack has given me permission to share any messages that occur, weather or not it’s answering a question because it was asked and I carried it over for him, or if it was a message from normal communication that would explain something.

Please do not message me concerning HATE towards him, please. He’s a teen who’s made a mistake.

As to concerning his health and mental state, it’s also being worked on. Jack has reached out to a professional today, weather or not it’ll continue is unknown to me. But he’s trying to get help. He is.

I’m going to be tagging Jack’s tag list, but some boundaries first:

I am a minor. I am uneducated. Everything I know is either common sense, what I’ve been taught through life, or Google. If I get something wrong, please POLITELY correct me.

No hate. Please. I hate seeing so much discourse already, and I can’t handle any more. I will NOT be playing messenger when it comes to hate messages.

I am simply a messenger. Please remember this.

if you would like screenshots or evidence of anything, please ask politely, don’t demand.

More may be added as needed.

jacks tag list- @zariahthewitch @thegroovydaughterofhestia @if-chaos-was-a-boy @the-gods-strange-children @silena-daughterofaphrodite

@fabulousdaughterofhecate @weakest-son-of-sun @chaos-pers0nified @neoptolemus-achilles-son

@bast-the-best26 @goddess-of-bubblegum @gaygirldoodles @luck-is-crucial

@reyna4ever @vicious-daughter-of-zeus @feral-hermes-child @oopsies-i-did-a-thing @unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia

@that-girl-cupid @ariathemortal @love-lightning-forethought @emdabitchass

@kaiaalwayswins @champion-of-revenge @i-was-never-sane @clown-energy-skyrocketing @zoe-aura-of-d3ath

@itsyourboyezra @lunar-eklipso-r @pink-koi-lovejoy @that-daughter-of-athena

@sleepy-as-a-song @smileyalater @thedaughter-of-death @gellyhelio @daughter-ofthe-moontitan

@demeters-daughter-is-done @the-smart-and-the-dumb-one @trinket-snatcher @southerndaughterofeos

@creature-under-ur-bed @burnt-out-bitxhes

[obsob]

one small step for. kitties

[fisheito]

my princess nonsense is being encouraged watch ouyt imabout to be eneaabled

OK WHATF ATHAT'S SO CUTE I HAD TO MAKE IT i know realistically there's little to no chance that rei DOESN'T know how to work heels 🤣 BUT IMAGINE.....ING.... YAKUMO GENTLY GUIDING REI IN HEELS, WEEKS BEFORE THE BIG GALA AND HAVING NONE OF HIS NORMAL FEAR OF PHYSICAL TOUCH BC HIS [TEACHER MODE] IS OVERRIDING HIS INSECURITY

[infinitethree]

Okay, you know what?

The bastard is almost, on an aesthetic level, not terrible to look at while he’s like this.

Asleep, he can’t be a fucking sociopath or an asshole. Those too-clever eyes of his aren’t judging and dissecting, they’re closed.

The absence of that bright blue gaze makes him seem surprisingly vulnerable.

So does the way Daz has, in the short while he’s been asleep, already snuggled up to him and is being clingy.

After the last few hours of running around looking for him, it’s a relief to know that he’s been mostly fine all along.

Naturally, when Daz didn’t come home, Raine got worried. The Council, aside from Lee who had been kept out of it, have been searching his known hidey-holes for hours now.

Obviously the HQ was one of the first places they checked, but the wall that leads into the hidden room was sealed off. They assumed that meant he wasn’t there, so they ignored it.

It wasn’t until Aster, in a last-ditch attempt, decided to open it up and check that the bastard was found.

He’d been fine, thankfully. Just having hyper fixated on the code and shut out everything else.

Aster carefully takes his com out and taps out a message to the others.

ShiningAster: bastard located. fine but asleep. focused on coding body for Innit, forgot he has a human body.

RaineStorm: seriously?? uhg, at least it’s normal shit this time

RaineStorm: as opposed to soul crushing despair and existential terror

Khons: need help moving him? ShiningAster: staying here. fell asleep on me, he has nightmares. also touched starved. might be less bastard if he gets good sleep

It’s only a little bit of a lie. Technically, none of that was wrong, but the implication was that Daz wasn’t strongarmed into accepting.

RaineStorm: yeah his nightmares are BAD and music only kinda helps.

ShiningAster: I think I can fix it. saying more will make him pissy

Khons: well if he’s not in trouble and staying there we’re going to bed

ShiningAster: night

RaineStorm: gn

RaineStorm: it’s gonna be really funny seeing him fall for you ngl

ShiningAster: its gonna be weird as fuck for me

After a moment, he switches to DMs.

ShiningAster: at some point we have a kid. Not adopted I think. looks just like him. her name is Azira. means rising star.

RaineStorm: WHAT THE FUCK??????

ShiningAster: also he made a deal to help with Innits body for seeing the same shit I do. but for me obviously

RaineStorm: oh my god that stupid asshole

RaineStorm: maybe he’ll learn his lesson. bc you’re def good to him, I know you.

ShiningAster: hes capable of being good to me back. too busy being petty for now though

RaineStorm: yeahhhhhh. he’s def an acquired taste. but he really is a great guy when you get past his him-ness

ShiningAster: lol

RaineStorm: he figured out I’d want a heated tub, art studio, and a porch. it’s freaky tbh but it’s nice.

ShiningAster: sounds fake but ok

RaineStorm: you’ve never seen him be like that so it’s hard to picture but it’s true!

That’s not quite right; Aster has seen Daz be kind and generous to others…he’s just never been the target.

No, maybe that’s not fair. He’s dragged Aster to a place of being better in a way he never would have done on his own. Despite his attitude, it did still benefit Aster.

Granted, he’s also been an asshole on purpose for literal years, so. That kind of events out.

ShiningAster: honestly just want to eat his damn food without being drugged

RaineStorm: something something the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach

ShiningAster: it sucks so bad to play chicken on if Ill suffer when I touch his cooking

ShiningAster: usually its worth it. at least until whatever he put in it hits

RaineStorm: and now we know why

ShiningAster: maybe therapy will fix him

RaineStorm: ngl I think not thinking he’ll kill anyone he loves will do wonders on its own

RaineStorm: but therapy will help too probably

ShiningAster: cant say much for obvious reasons but hes fundamentally broken. has been for most of his life.

ShiningAster: but Id never have a kid if he didnt seem in a good place. so whatever he does works

RaineStorm: have you considered it might be the power of love

ShiningAster: fuck you

RaineStorm: I’m serious!! think about it, he’s spent like 4 years thinking being loved will get that person killed

RaineStorm: he might have divine confirmation but he’s stubborn. might not feel real

RaineStorm: soooo someone who loves him despite his bullshit might be the thing that makes him be less…yknow

Ah, another reminder of how deeply fucked up Daz actually is.

ShiningAster: could be having someone who knows his secrets or even just Innit being out

RaineStorm: remind it that it needs a new name btw. too close to existing ones

RaineStorm: but yeah that probably helps too

RaineStorm: I feel awful I never noticed he was so…unwell

ShiningAster: hes good at hiding what he wants to hide. cant blame yourself when hes a master manipulator.

Said master manipulator mumbles into Aster’s chest, voice small, “I missed you.”

And, fuck, something in his chest feels like it cracks when Aster realizes what and who Daz must be dreaming about.

There’s nobody it could be but his former mentor. The person who gave him everything he ever wanted…and then committed an unspeakable sin against him.

Clearly, Daz still misses him. Despite what Dream had done to him, a part of him still misses the person who crushed him infinitely worse than anyone before him.

Despite only getting brief glimpses of that time, Aster gets the impression that Dream had been someone whose preciousness went beyond words.

Yet Daz couldn’t stomach letting him have his way after what he did. He rejected a place as a near-god beside someone who, despite the sickness in his soul, was devoted to him to a disturbing degree.

That…takes a strength of will that Aster isn’t completely sure he could match.

Fuck, nor does the decision to use the lethally broken enchantment as a backup plan.

If the rest of the server had failed to kill him, Daz would have chosen a death so agonizing that it chills Aster to his core.

It’s not hard to see why Daz is so…himself, honestly. Aster might not be able to think like him, nor agree with his actions, but in a fucked up way he can follow most of the logic now that he has the pieces.

He swallows as Daz’s voice wavers and cracks. “You said you’d protect me, so why…”

Aster adjusts his arms to a more comfortable positon, and messes with his hair more. “I’m not him, Daz. You’re not Tommy any more. Dream was sick– you know that.”

Horrifyingly, Daz starts shaking as he cries.

He rushes to add, “But– but you can have something new. Fuck, if you can be even halfway decent, I’d fall for you pretty damn quick. You can be charming, you know? And– and pretty romantic. It was– maybe it wouldn’t be awful. If you just stopped being such a bastard–”

At a loss for what else to do, he cuts himself off and starts humming.

Eventually, Daz slips back into deeper sleep.

But the memory of this unsettlingly fragile side of him will remain in the back of Aster’s head. Even when Daz is being the biggest bastard he can be…Aster knows he’ll remember this.