justanotherboringwriter

[justanotherboringwriter]

waow I have 250 likes waowwaoawooaowowowoaaow :3

[justanotherboringwriter]

||It’s Christmas, no longer ‘Almost Christmas’.||

Summary; It’s not ‘almost Christmas’, Phoenix. It is Christmas.

A/N; to go with my fanart of the infamous “Almost Christmas means it wasn’t Christmas” meme. Unfortunately, this is a rushed fic because I wanted to get it out before 12 PM so sorry if it’s bad. Also I accidentally made Miles a bit posh because of his vibes and in this fic, Trucy is 8.

Phoenix sat on the couch, watching TV. He wasn’t exactly focused on the TV, he’d at least remembered that he’d put on a Minecraft–One of those satire fake speed run reaction videos, if he recalled correctly. He always loved the videos for just how ridiculous they were, but that’s the fun of it, wasn’t it?

He lifted his cup of hot cocoa to his lips, taking a sip. Cool whipped cream hit the tip of his nose, surprising him. Somehow, he’d forgotten that he’d added whipped cream to his drink. How did he forget? Everytime Christmas came around, it was the same thing; hot cocoa with whipped cream and marshmallows alongside a plate of cookies; Christmas trees, ornaments, hats, Santa, his reindeer, all that good stuff.

But nowadays, there was a separate cup and plate.

Hot coffee with a plate of chocolate chip settled beside his own, most likely alongside a laptop or a gothic literature or, if he was feeling more playful and adventurous, a book full of stories from Greek mythology.

He wasn’t him.

He was Miles Edgeworth.

Chief Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, former childhood best friend, part–time in–court rival, and current husband.

Padded footsteps approached and–speak of the devil–Miles sat beside him with a huff. “You’re still watching these videos? They’re so childish and unentertaining.” He raised an unimpressed brow. “What’s the point of watching them?” A hand grabbed the warm mug, bringing it to his lips as he sipped coffee while he slightly shook his head in mock disappoinment.

“They are entertaining, you’re just too used to reading your old books. When’s the last time you watched a show instead of burying yourself in a book?” Phoenix raised a brow at his lover. Miles scoffed, looking off as he put his mug down, going for a chocolate chip cookie. “Shut up..” He muttered, taking a bite out of the cookie.

“And your cookies are good, so stop staring because I know you’re staring at me like you’re insane.” Miles looked back, pouting slightly. “Oh, I know my cookies are good, don’t worry.” Phoenix said proudly. “You remind me of that every year under the disguise of me ‘harassing’ you until you say otherwise because someone doesn’t know how to just compliment their own husband.” He added, settling his mug down.

Miles stared at the edge of Phoenix’s nose and raised an inquisitive brow.

Phoenix also raised a brow. “What? Is..Is something on my nose?...” He asked awkwardly and a bit nervously. If there’s someone he didn’t want to be messy or look shitty around, it was the love of his life.

“Yes, there is. Enjoying my hot cocoa and whipped cream, Wright?” Miles smirked as he teased the other man. He always made Phoenix a cup of hot cocoa, whipped cream in a perfect swirl with marshmallows scattered along the swirl–Miles and Miles only could make it so perfectly, especially for his darling husband.

The aforementioned husband’s cheek reddened, warming up at a worryingly quick speed. He immediately wiped his nose, “Don’t get too cocky!” He said, trying to regain at least some of his dignity that was lost over a small bit of whipped cream that he’d accidentally dabbed onto his nose.

Miles chuckled and leaned forward, kissing Phoenix. “Oh, I think I will get a bit cocky. Apparently my drink making skills are just so good that you practically drowned yourself in the mug!” He sat back.

Phoenix sighed. “Fine, I’ll humor you; your cocoa’s good.” “And your cookies are simply stunning, darling. You’ve got to teach me that recipe one day, y’know? It’d be a travesty for our children to miss out on such a meal..” Miles sighed, content.

“‘Our children’? You mean the numerous dogs you’re trying to coax me into getting?” “It’s only six!” Miles said, looking to his husband with puppy–dog eyes. “Six too many! We’re both busy men, baby.” “What about Trucy? She’s happy, so we obviously know how to care for life!” Miles huffed.

“Because Trucy’s a simple girl, Miles. You know this.” Phoenix shuffled closer to Miles, snuggling against his side.

“We could teach her how to care for the dogs..She’d love it–And she’d get assistants for her magic shows! An aspiring magician needs assistants, Phoenix!” Miles replied dramatically, wrapping his arms around his husband and peppering his lips with a few brief kisses.

Phoenix returned the kisses and chuckled. “Don’t get dramatic with me, baby. You and Trucy love those puppy–dog eyes, hm?” He said, sitting up and settling his hand on Miles’s shoulder to kiss him. The hand slid up to cup Miles’s left cheek as they kissed, one of Miles’s hands going to Phoenix’s waist, almost on his hip.

“Dads?” A meek little voice called out.

Phoenix and Miles immediately separated, looking and seeing Trucy standing at the edge of the dark hallway, clutching a plushie of Mr. Hat to her chest–The plushie courtesy of Miles’s excellent sewing and plushie making skills (which came from a source he refuses to elaborate on).

“Trucy, sweetie, hi!” Phoenix said awkwardly, “Why’re you up? ’s late and y’know you’re not supposed to be up this late, especially on Christmas Eve!” He chuckled. Trucy walked around the couch and hopped between her adoptive fathers.

“I was just scared of the dark ’n wanted to be with you two..” The little girl mumbled. Miles pulled Trucy into his arms, kissing her head as she nuzzled into his chest, getting comfortable. “I guess you can stay with us, just make sure to not stay up late, alright? Santa doesn’t like naughty girls who stay up last their bedtime but we’ll tell him you didn’t mean it, m’kay?” Miles cooed paternally. Trucy nodded.

“Do you think we’ll be able to see Santa?” She asked curiously.

“Y’do know that that would make us naughty, right? If we purposefully stayed up late just to see him, we’d get on the naughty list.” Phoenix replied.

“Ah!” Trucy jumped. “I don’t wanna be on the naughty list!” “You won’t!” Miles said, glaring at his husband. “You’ve been good all year, I’m sure if you did accidentally see Santa, he’d let it pass.” He added, wrapping an arm around his adoptive daughter.

Phoenix sighed and crawled over, snuggling against Miles. Miles made room and wrapped an arm around the other man, shuffling to make sure Trucy was also comfortable. “Oh, and now I’m a human pillow! You two have got me trapped!” He said dramatically.

Phoenix rolled his eyes and gave Miles a peck on the lips. “Shut up and watch the damn Minecraft videos.” He shook his head. Miles shook his head. “Fine, I will!”

Trucy giggled, still clutching the Mr. Hat plushie and shifting to look at the TV.

Phoenix looked up to Miles and the other man looked down. Their eyes met and they looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before smiling.

Trucy reached out and took a chocolate chip cookie, taking a bite. Miles let out a gasp, “You thief, my cookie!” Trucy giggled again, taking another bite and almost stuffing her cheeks full of the chocolate and dough. “We’ve got a little criminal in our hands, Phoenix!” Miles added. Phoenix shrugged, “She’s been good all year, I’m sure stealing one little cookie isn’t that bad–Santa will let it pass, right?” Phoenix teased.

Miles shook his head jokingly, “Fine.” He said as he received yet another few pecks on the lips from his beloved husband before the trio fell into silence, watching the TV together as the Christmas tree and it’s festive lights glowed in the corner, presents soon to be resting under the tree, ready to be unwrapped by the adoptive family when they woke up the next morning.

What a merry, merry Christmas.

[justanotherboringwriter]

||A Life Story.||

Summary; Excella’s had a not so easy life, Wesker didn’t exactly change much.

A/N; didn’t tell you guys on my main acc but Excella is my WIFE also CHUBBY WIFE SUPREMACY!!!! 💞💞💞💯💯💯‼️‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥😩😩😩😩😩😩😫😫😫😫😫😫

Excella sat on Wesker’s lap as his hands rested on her hip, verging on her waist. He was distracted, too busy focusing on making out with the woman on his lap, groping her wide and pudgy hips and moaning into her mouth. He didn’t seem to notice that she wasn’t as invested in the sloppy kisses as he was.

He never seemed to notice, did he? He always thought she was some bimbo, obsessed with him to the point that it was funny. Well, she was a good actor, wasn’t she? He showed her she was correct in that assumption.

She wondered what brought her to this point; sitting on the lap of a man who was 23 years older than her. She was successful, she couldn’t lie; being 26 and already the CEO of Tricell, the company her family had founded–And who could forget that she’d gotten her BSc in genetic engineering at only 17 years old? Well, that wasn’t as impressive considering Wesker had gotten his degree in virology at 17 also but..oh, fuck off. Let her have this for once.

Speaking of her family, she remembered that her life wasn’t as easy; growing up as one of many children wasn’t easy.

If you wanted attention in the Gionne household, you had to work for it. High grades, trophies, top positions in contests, words of praise from peers, etc. Those exampled always came to mind since it’d how she’d gotten attention.

A’s, A+’s, B+’s, all those good grades in red pen at the top of pages.

Eagles with wings spread in plastic, a mocking imitation of gold, with plaques, making fun of her everytime she looked over when she had her oh so often sleepless nights, when she cleaned them to occupy her running mind.

Gold metals–True gold, not the fake kind–Attached to fabric, blue with red stripes, hanging off of a thick hook from just how much the medals weighed. The weight always created a weight in her heart but a good kind of weight, y’know?

Words at the top of or beside the sentences on papers, singing sweet birdsong of her heightened intelligence when compared to the rest of her classmates. “Idiots, that’s what they are. Reading was never that hard, nor math. What’s their problem?” She would think during parent–teacher conferences while her teachers gave her lavish praise in front of her parents.

She probably shouldn’t have stressed herself our at such a young age, or maybe not? She didn’t know because either way, she was still crying herself to sleep, praying to whatever God was willing to listen to her whining begs, wanting for someone to make all her efforts, all her useless pining, make Wesker feel something for her.

She was sure that she’d have red, puffy skin around her eyes for the rest of her life. Maybe even a runny nose though she was at least good at making other, non suspicious noises to cover the sound of her calming down. God knows what Wesker would think, let alone say or do, if he could out she was crying–Crying over him.

Praying for him.

At least he pretended to like her. A hand on her lower back to lead her through clouds, a hand on her shoulder during private talks, a hand on her waist, a thumb gingerly rubbing her hip, a face shoved into her tummy with muffled words, a nose hungrily sniffing at the crook of her neck, and using her thighs as plush forms of self relief were all her favorite examples of such.

She knew he was faking but God, it just felt so fucking good.

Especially when he decided to get more intimate; kissing her head, forehead, nose, cheeks, lips, neck, trapezius, shoulders, hands.

It got even better when he decided to calm his mommy issues, getting on his knees in front of her, looking up at her with those big, wet, puppy–dog eyes, whining for her like a little boy for his mommy, shoving his face into her breasts, using her ass as a pillow, acting like the pathetic little boy he truly was. She knew he wasn’t the cold, tough, genius mastermind he tried to act like.

Everybody else believed it but she didn’t. She knew when people lied, it was an amazing skill to have in her field and especially when it came to the people that Wesker decided to align himself and, by connection, Umbrella and Tricell with.

God damnit, couldn’t he just not be a little naive bitch for once?

He thought of himself as a God meanwhile the only powerful thing when it came to him was Uroboros and, based off conversations they had, even Uroboros knew Wesker had an apparent obsession with being close to and trusting people who were obviously trying to bullshit him.

Speaking of Uroboros, he seemed to love using it against her. Well, they both loved it; they couldn’t hide the fact that they both loved the fact that Excella was thicker than the women Wesker was used to. S.T.A.R.S women, to be more specific. Definitely not chubby women.

Uroboros, whenever it could or rather whenever it was allowed, would wrap a tentacle around her hand, thigh, just whatever it could grab at. But she would be lying if she said she didn’t help it; she did wear shirts that allowed her to give it easier access to her large and plump breasts so they could writhe around and grasp at whatever it could.

But that was basically in the past.

Nowadays, he’d gotten far too attached to her. He treated and referred to her as his wife. She’d decided to be nice to him and allowed him into her lavish mansion and now, he lived with her–Clung to her, actually. He practically never left her alone for even a second.

At least they were happy together.

Later on, he was laying in bed, waiting for her. She was wearing a tank-top and a pair of soft Hello Kitty pants when their young son, Lucas, walked in. He was clutching his blanket, dragging it behind him as his big, red eyes looked up at his parents. Excella walked over and gently scooped up her son, shuffling the blanket so it was wrapped around the boy as he rested his head on his mother’s shoulder.

“What’s wrong? You know you’re supposed to be in bed right now.” She asked.

Lucas looked up at his mother, “I was scared..” He mumbled. “Scared of what? You’re safe here, baby. You know this. What’s got you so scared?” Excella replied as she adjusted her son in her arms.

“Tummy ache and the monsters...” The boy admitted.

Excella closed the door with her foot and walked to the bed, sitting down and settling Lucas down. Lucas shimmied, still covered by the blanket, over to his father and sat beside him. Wesker sat up a bit and pulled Lucas onto his lap, kissing the boy’s head of fluffy blonde hair.

“Monsters and a tummy ache won’t hurt you. We won’t let them.” Wesker cooed.

Excella got under the covers, snuggling against Wesker. “Can we watch The Grinch? The one with Jimmy..” Lucas asked, looking up at his parents innocently and with a slight pout to convince them.

Excella grabbed the remote on her nightstand, turned the TV on and after a few seconds of waiting for it to turn on, turned on the voice feature. “Jim Carrey’s Grinch.” She said, making the TV pull up the live action Grinch movie. Excella used the remote to choose it before settling the remote back down and getting comfortable.

She glanced to her husband and son silently, watching them.

She leaned down, kissing Lucas’s forehead before sitting back and turning Wesker’s head by gingerly cupping his cheek to give him a kiss on the lips. She snuggled against her husband and got comfortable once more, looking to the screen.

As rough as the start of their relationship was, if Excella could choose whether to do it again or find another partner, she’d do it all over again, no matter how long it takes.

In the end, it was all worth it.

[justanotherboringwriter]

Btw, I posted this on Kiwi’s blog (cause it has a few more followers) but I have an OC rp blog I made so I could just put a bunch of OC’s into one AU and actually develop them. It’s called @theviridiancourthotel.

[justanotherboringwriter]

Also, some tips for people stressing over this, coming from someone who also spent a lot of time stressing over everything about my plurality. Tips under cut;

1. Appearance

Before you do anything, give the alter an appearance. Try to start off with things like hair color, eye color, skin color, and style. Once you've gotten that down and finalized those details, go move onto more complicated details; hair type, eye shape, and body type. Then move onto more specific details, such as; physical and mental conditions, disorders, and syndromes (not necessary and entirely optional) as well as accessories, scars, and other features (especially if the alter is supposed to have nonhuman features such as horns, a tail, wings, etc).

2. Personality

After all that is done, try to form a personality for this alter. Search up personality traits, pick out the ones you want most, and find the ones you want most then keep those. Then, expand on those personality traits. An example would be are they (personality trait) because of something or are they only (personality trait) in a specific scenario? I.E. Are they aggressive because of trauma? Or are they aggressive when they meet new people and stop after warming up to the person?

3. Behavior

While you may consider this the same as personality, it's not; although personality can affect behavior, they're different. This also expands upon the first point and more specifically, the physical and mental conditions, disorders, and syndromes. If your character has a mental issue, it could affect their behavior such as making them very antisocial. A physical issue could also affect behavior as it could make them more meek as they could be embarrassed if they struggle with mobility and need mobility aids such as a cane or crutches. Think, how could (issue/issues) affect them in (specific scenario)? Put them into scenarios and think of how they'd act then put them into scenarios involving (issue/issues).

4. Headspace

A headspace is an important part of the headmate creation process as it allows the alter to have a space to relax in and when they're comfortable, the chance of them interacting with you is higher, especially if they know certain elements of the headspace were made for them specifically. Their isn't a specific model for a headspace; it's quite legitimately just the space inside your head where the system lives or, more specifically, where other members of the system stay when not fronting. It's your system's safe space where you can create the world/worlds. And yes, you can have multiple headspaces; they can be connected such as a liminal hotel headspace could be connected to a Equestria headspace.

If you're curious as to how to make a headspace; literally just think of an area. That's it. It's seriously that simple. And you can connect them by simply imagining a portal or door or just making them close enough to walk from one to another.

5. Separation

Remember; you're no longer one singular mind. You're trying to be multiple identities in one form and you need to act as such. Talk like someone else is there and have items that your new identity would like to try and trigger them into conversing or co-fronting. Ask questions or start conversations. No one's responding? That's fine, don't worry! They won't immediately be super comfortable with conversing as they were practically just born and need time to get comfortable and get to know you.

Also, try and tell them that you made them; tell them why you made them, what they're inspired by, etc, etc. They could be very confused and scared because they don't know what's going on and it'd be comforting to be informed as to what's going on.

6. Sliding

Try and slide into their identity; dress in their style, use accessories if they have nonhuman features, just generally style yourself as them as this could make them more comfortable by seeing that what's presented externally is how they present internally. They also could be encouraged to front as they know that the body fits what they see themself as so when they front, they won't feel weird or dysphoric.

7. Progress

Visit blogs that focus on forming alters such as blogs about headmate creation blogs (BAH or Build a headmate, watch out for radqueers), blogs dedicated to answering questions and giving advice to systems, and blogs simply about progress on headmate creation. BAH blogs could help you get a feel of how your headmate will be if you're struggling to do it yourself, advice blogs can help you get the answers you need, and progress blogs can help you see how others go about creating their headmates.

8. Labels

Traumagenic, non-traumagenic, mixed origins, you've heard it all. Ignore it. How are you going to label yourself before any of your headmates have even formed? Focus on yourself until you're comfortable enough to find and decide on the label that finally fits you best. Trust me, as someone who stressed about this stuff (as mentioned above), this can be extremely stressing and can stunt your progress as your focus is no longer on developing the headmate.

9. Tracking

Simply Plural, Plural Kit, they're all familiar names; apps used to keep track of systems and the individual alters identities as well as the identities within subsystems. If you do get one of them (I'd recommend Simply Plural since Plural Kit is specifically for discord and Simply Plural is specifically for identities, chatting, front status, specific traits, etc) just put yourself down first and then avoid it to focus on yourself. Either let the headmate put themselves down or put it down for them (after conversing about their identity, of course. Or you could put them down as what you intend for them to identify as).

10. Patience

As I mentioned above, I wasn't patient when I started to identify as plural. Now, I can consciously and unconsciously slip into an alter ego and have 2/3 alters that have given me a few words. Why? Because I was patient. They don't form immediately. Keep it slow and steady and give them time to develop and feel comfortable enough to front, interact with you, etc. This is a journey that takes time and patience. It could take a week, a month, or damn near a year. You just need to stay calm and just try to encourage them into giving you a few words and keep track of what they say such as an interest, a name, an opinion, a gender, etc. Just stay calm, wait, and let them know they're welcome and that you appreciate whatever they do, even if it's something extremely small.

I hope this helps and if anybody wants me to give some more tips, I'd be more than happy to help. If you're not open to sending in asks or leaving replies, just send me a message. I'll do my best to help you along your journey of plurality, as your self-appointed Tumblr big brother(s).

Funny how I used to think I was a system of 25 and was constantly stressing over keeping track of everything but now I have an alter ego that I can shift into (consciously and subconsciously), 2/possibly 3 alters forming with 2 having had a brief conversation with me and 1 having said a single sentence when back then I only ever heard 1 voice once and never again. Tbh the point of this post is to tell all new systems that are trying to form alters, whether your traumagenic or non-traumagenic or something else, forming an alter takes time and you need to be patient. Not every alter is going to immediately want to reveal themself.

[justanotherboringwriter]

Funny how I used to think I was a system of 25 and was constantly stressing over keeping track of everything but now I have an alter ego that I can shift into (consciously and subconsciously), 2/possibly 3 alters forming with 2 having had a brief conversation with me and 1 having said a single sentence when back then I only ever heard 1 voice once and never again. Tbh the point of this post is to tell all new systems that are trying to form alters, whether your traumagenic or non-traumagenic or something else, forming an alter takes time and you need to be patient. Not every alter is going to immediately want to reveal themself.

[justanotherboringwriter]

||Pictures.||

Summary; Umeji x Musume and pics. (context; the first part is supposed to be early on when Umeji first joined Osoro and his gang, the second part is later on, and the third part is supposed to be a few days/weeks later).

A/N; I’ve been in the Yandere Simulator fandom since around 2017–2018 and after a return, I started shipping Musume x Umeji. This is my third time returning to the fandom and I want to specify that these characters, unless specified otherwise, are 18.

Musume had her chest pressed against Umeji’s chest, looking up at him as he avoided eye contact. “Something distracting you, pinkie?” She mocked, raising a brow as she pressed herself against him even more, trying to cause a reaction from him. Umeji sighed, “I said I wouldn’t talk to you anymore, you know this. I told Osoro and the guys that I wouldn’t even be seen with you.” He replied, “You think I can just break that promise?” He added.

“For me? Yes. Even if you don’t wanna, I’m sure I can..convince you. Y’get what I mean, right?” She smirked, drawing out the last word. “Remember what I did last time? It made you fold real quick and I’m sure it’d work again.” She chuckled, leaning her face in to try and force eye contact.

“Besides, it’s not like you’ve deleted my number. Or have you?” “I haven’t.” Umeji immediately replied. “Then show me. Take out your phone and show me.” Umeji slid his phone out of his pocket, unlocking his phone, opening the gallery, and tapping the picture, showing it to her.

It had Musume, sticking her tongue out and sticking up a peace sign, her shirt rolled up to show her large and plump breasts, contained by a baby blue lace bra. “Good boy.” She praised, kissing his forehead and leaving a neutral pink lipgloss stain of her lips on his forehead.

She then walked off, leaving him to stand still in embarrassment and shame.

Musume stood in front of the dumpster, looking up at Umeji. “Why’d you call me? This place stinks..” She sighed, holding her breath. She looked past him, noticing the rest of the delinquents were guarding the entrance, barring anybody from entering or exiting.

“This looks like I’m about to be sexually assaulted.” She muttered anxiously, taking a few steps back to try and put space between them. “I–If you’re gonna touch me, I’ll have you know that my father–” “I couldn’t give two shits about what your father’s gonna do, Musume. Shut up and listen to me for once, if your peanut–sized brain can even comprehend what I’m saying.” He growled angrily, making her go silent.

Musume’s back finally pressed against the dumpster, making her jump and take a small step forward to try and avoid touching the dumpster. “I–I’ll call–” “Nor do I care who you’re gonna call. Just listen to me, alright?” Umeji interrupted again.

A few seconds of silence passed and Umeji started speaking. “You made me keep a picture of you on my phone and I’m gonna you do the same.” He huffed, his shoulders tight with tension.

“W–I can’t! Daddy’s gonna take my phone away! I–I don’t event have the picture of my chest on my phone. I had to delete it after I sent it to you because I’d get grounded if daddy found out!” She said, panicking at the thought of getting her phone taken away.

Umeji sighed, “Listen, I don’t wanna do this either..” He whispered to her. “The guys and Osoro told me I had to do this to ��assert my dominance’ or some shit. They wanna see it when you leave so just keep it and then when you’re walking off, delete it.” He added, looking off awkwardly.

Musume sighed and begrudgingly took out her phone, unlocking it and opening her camera before handing it to him and looking off, trying to focus on the trash surrounding them or the shitty graffiti on the concrete walls surrounding them. Umeji unzipped his pants and pulled his boxers down, taking a picture of his dick, and quickly handing it back to her.

He quickly made himself decent again, embarrassed. “Don’t tell anybody, okay? I don’t want anybody seeing my body other than my friends.” Musume nodded and glanced at the screen before quickly looking off. Musume walked past him. As Umeji said, the other delinquents and Osoro insisted on seeing the image and once they did, let her past and return to her friends.

Umeji was sitting with the rest of the delinquents when his phone buzzed. He slid his phone out, seeing a message from one of The Gyaru’s. He immediately became alarmed and opened the message.

Hoshiko ! 🌿🫐

So, you made Musume keep a phone of your 🍆 on her phone?

Wouldn’t it be interesting if that news started spreading around the school, Umeji?

Umeji immediately got up, making his friends look over at him in confusion. “I’ll be right back.” He said as he angrily ran off, running inside the school and shoving past students before finding The Gyaru’s. Umeji grabbed Musume’s sleeve, “I’m gonna need you to come with me for a second, Ronshaku.” He growled before pulling her into a side room full of boxes and sliding the door shut.

He pushed her against the wall, “You fucking told them?!” He asked. “I–I didn’t mean to.” Musume stuttered, embarrassed. “It just slipped out..” “How?!” “I..I didn’t delete the image. I touched myself to it and ended up gushing about it on a call to them and didn’t realize it until after I said it.” She confessed, avoiding eye contact. Umeji froze, shocked.

“You what?” “I touched myself to your dick pic. Happy?” She repeated. “Can I go now?” Musume sighed. “..No.” Umeji replied meekly, “You’ll have to..kiss me first.” He said, letting go of her and taking a few steps back nervously.

Musume sighed and walked over, putting a hand on his right shoulder and gave him a kiss. Umeji settled his hands on her hips, “‘nother one..” He whispered. Musume gave him another kiss. “Can I go now?” She asked.

Umeji let go of her and nodded. “Tell them to keep it a secret.” He mumbled before opening the door for her and shutting it behind them.

[justanotherboringwriter]

||For once, I’m happy.||

Summary; Astarion finally cries happily.

A/N; I changed the format since I intend to not have any short fics from now on unless I don’t have enough for a full fic. This may be my only fic for Baldur’s Gate 3.

Astarion didn’t think that after being turned into a vampire, he’d be able to live a normal life again. One with a spouse and, dare be say, kids. He hated kids. But he’d been proven wrong–So damn wrong. He’d met a werewolf by the name of Rogue Lotus River. He’d absolutely hated the man because he smelt of wet fucking dog and looked like a savage barbarian, how could a man like Astarion Ancunin love a man like THAT? For god’s sake, he wore a shoulder–length poncho with a wolf head on the left shoulder, wrist warmers, and some fur around his waist with boots and to top it all off, covered in fur. Horrendous, truly.

And the man–Wolf?–Didn’t understand how shit his fashion sense was! He could never fall in love with a man like that. But he did. First, he allowed Rogue to mark him to make sure the other wolves wouldn’t attack him and fuck, they’d fucked. Then, he was injured and Rogue brought him to his castle and he was served steak, drizzled in blood, garnished with a bale leaf and a bottle of 47 year old wine. He’d eaten it while a fine silk scarf was draped around his forearms, feeling as if he were a wealthy noble.

He’d indulged himself in the blessings that was Rogue’s cooking. Soon, it went down; his hips and especially his rear and thighs had become plump, hell, his hips had stretch marks! But then his stomach grew and–Oh. Twin boys. He was pregnant.

What a nightmare.

He struggled but hey, at least the boys, Lupin and Lypos, were adorable. Lupin had practically the same face as Rogue while Lypos had Astarion’s (luscious) white curls. Those adorable little bastards always got what they wanted with big, beady eyes, and coos of “Mommy!” and “Daddy!”, and how were they to say ‘no’ to those little pouts? God, he’d gone soft. Both literally and figuratively.

He just couldn’t stay mad at his husband or his son’s.

He sat in his study, silently reading before he had a realization; he was content. He was truly and finally content. Happy. Pleased. He was experiencing true domestic bliss. He didn’t deserve it, God, he didn’t–With how he’d treated Rogue. But the alpha still gave him multiple chances and loved him relentlessly and gave him a home and a family. He looked down, seeing droplets staining his white shirt. Salty. Tears. He wiped his face, looking at the droplets now on his hand as he let out a small gasp, sitting up and putting a book down as he shuddered. For once, his tears were happy tears. He wasn’t crying because he was in pain or guilty, he was crying because he was happy.

“Mommy?”

He looked back, seeing Rogue in the doorway, Lupin and Lypos in his arms, looking at him worryingly. “Oh, my stars, I’m fine. Mommy’s okay, don’t worry for me..” He muttered, trying to compose himself. Instead, more tears fell, making him hang his head low, trying to hide his face. He looked up as Rogue approached, his tail visibly between his legs and his ears low. “My day, I’m fine!” Astarion huffed. Rogue settled Lupin and Lypos on the ground in front of the chaise lounge Astarion was seated upon, sitting beside them as they all stared up at him with puppy–dog eyes. “Don’t look at me like that! S–Stop that!” Astarion whined. He sighed, his resolve quickly dying.

“Must you insist on worrying for me so much?..” He mumbled as Rogue kissed his forehead, making him scrunch his face up. “Oh, how you make me weak..All of you, you’re my weakness.” The vampire gave a kiss to all of their heads, “What clever manipulator’s you lot are.” He added, shaking his head and brushing his curls back.

He gasped as he was suddenly pulled onto Rogue’s lap, allowing Lupin and Lypos to crawl onto their mother’s lap, nuzzling against him and yipping happily. “Yes, yes, I understand! I love you all too!” Astarion laughed happily, enjoying the affection.

Having kids wasn’t so bad now. As unexpected as this life was, it was his and he couldn’t have it any other way.

[justanotherboringwriter]

I got you, @justanotherboringwriter

🤝 liking Some Guy™

[justanotherboringwriter]

||Feeling The Blues.||

Summary; Kano has undiagnosed depression and horse!!!!! Horpe!!!!!!!! :333

A/N; obsessed with these two 🤞🏼😍 + Laser Lasso is their ship name :P

Word count; 784.

Kano sighed as he laid in bed, staring at his laptop screen as it played random fail clips. He sighed, thinking of moving but his body wouldn’t listen so he stayed in the same position, staring blankly at the screen, exhausted and bored.

He couldn’t remember the last time he took care of himself. The last time he showered or brushed his teeth was probably a few days ago if he had any guess. He’d just been buried under his covers, half his face shoved into his pillow as he was too tired to flip himself over and even more so to get up. He probably couldn’t even sit up, just shift his feet a bit to find an even slightly more comfortable position.

Most of him had probably gone numb though he didn’t have it in him to test it. Probably the lack of actual nutrition. He remembered eating, what? A sandwich and a lunchable or two yesterday and, like, 4-5 Coca Cola’s, he didn’t keep track.

He probably smelt like absolute shit, but nobody was around to prove or deny the claim.

Suddenly, the door burst open and Erron’s Outworld horse, Kirali, poked her head in. She had a pretty pink bow on her main, keeping a small bundle of her already short mane in a little ponytail. She looked around, seeing the screen and the lump under the covers and strolling into the dark room cautiously, stopping and standing over the bed. She let out an equestrian huff and nudged Kano with her snout.

She looked to the screen and saw Kano’s face, illuminated by the device. She nudged the laptop, letting out a small neigh. He sighed. “What?” He spoke in a hoarse and unused voice.

Kirali dragged a hoof down the bed.

“No, no, Kirali. No play.” Kano replied.

Kirali huffed and stomped her foot, dragging her hoof down the bed again as a demand for playtime. “Kirali–” She neighed, shaking her head as a way to say she wasn’t taking no for an answer. Kano sat up and paused the video, sliding to the edge of the bed and sitting there with his sore muscles. Kirali nudged her snout against him, neighing happily. Kano rubbed her snout.

Kirali walked out of the room and returned with a plastic ball the size of a basketball, rolling it inside with her hoof and nudging the door mostly closed. She rolled it to Kano’s feet, allowing them to play while not having to force his muscles to work after so long not being used. Kano picked up the ball and gently threw it, making Kirali quickly chase it and roll it over with her snout, stomping her feet happily.

Kano chuckled, “I know, you're happy to play.”

Later, Erron entered the room. “Kano–” He stopped when he saw Kirali laying on the ground, a new pink bow in her tail as she rolled a ball around with her snout.

“Never took you for an equestrian lover, Kano.” Erron said, looking to the Australian.

“Eh, she got me out of bed just to play.” He sighed, stroking her head, making her let out a content huff. Erron walked over, “You look like what I assume a zombie would look like before it starts rotting. What happened? You don’t normally look like the Grim Reaper forgot to pick you up.” He asked, concerned. “Just the blues, y’know?” “The blues? Looks more like depression to me. When was the last time you, uh..felt energized? Or ate something that is good for the body?” The cowboy responded, waving his hand.

“Fuck if I know..” Kano looked off awkwardly.

“I don’t mean fruits and veggies, just, like..some Burger King? Like two burgers, fries, soda. That’s good enough; fills you up.” Erron said.

Kano shook his head.

“Even worse, big guy.” Erron sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. “Listen, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. We all have days or weeks or months where we just wanna rot away in bed but I can’t let you do that to yourself, baby.” He took Kano’s hand but quickly retracted it, surprised. “You’re actually warm for once. That’s weird..” He noted.

Kano chuckled, “I know, I know. Been burrowed in my blanket for God knows how long.” He retorted.

“Okay,” Erron said as he took Kano’s hand, stroking the tan and calloused skin. “Well, let’s go take a bath then we can eat.” “Can she eat with us?” Kano looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes.

Erron sighed, “Yes, Kirali can eat with us.”

Kirali let out a happy neigh and Kano cheered. “You pair of dorks.” Erron shook his head, smiling lovingly under his mask.

[justanotherboringwriter]

||Awkward Birthday Date.||

Summary; awkward time for a birthday date but *pukes*

A/N; I HC Erron has emetophobia (fear of vomit/vomiting) but he has to deal with it for the sake of Kano and that’s why Kano ends up cutting back on drinking ·3·

Word count; 851.

Kano parked his car, hopping out. “Erron!” He yelled out to the cowboy, making the man look back. “Fuck, not this again.” Erron muttered, annoyed. “Kano, I told you already; I’m done with The Black Dragon and I’m done with you. Stop trying to convince me to come back, it won’t work.” He added.

“Are you kiddin’ me?” Kano huffed angrily. “Y’know how long I’ve been searchin’ for you? Months! Hell, probably much, much longer because of all the different realms time zones I traveled in just to come here and be told it was for nothin’?!” He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. “I don’t know if my sleepin’ and eatin’ schedule will ever recover from how many times my internal clock changed!”

“I’ll probably never be able to adapt back to my normal schedules. I didn’t come here for fuckin’ nothin’!” Kano yelled, his face turning red. “You’re gonna get your ass over here and get in this car! I planned an entire birthday for you just so we could have a cute little date together!” He added, absolutely irate at this point. He panted, his head hung low as his hair, now a mop of overgrown curls that could cover his face, completely concealed his expressions.

He took a few shaky steps back, leaning on the car and grumbling to himself. Against his better judgment, Erron rushed over. He placed a hand on Kano’s back, “Are ya okay?” “Obviously fuckin’ not. My body had no time to adapt to the different time zones..I’ve been feelin’ weird since this mornin’. Feels like I got disemboweled and my heart…” Kano groaned as Erron sighed. “Fuck, lemme guess, you’re drunk?” The cowboy said, quickly becoming annoyed. Kano jumbled his words, “Mmmm..Nooo.” He managed to slur out. “Haven’t drank innn so long…” He added.

Erron felt Kano trembling under his hand. “Boss, I think you’re goin’ through withdrawals. Bout as sweaty as a man in the Sahara.” He noted.

Kano suddenly retched.

Erron rubbed his back, “Alright. Let it out, y’got any water in the SUV?” Kano’s shaky hand rummaged around in his pocket and took out some keys. Erron took the keys and opened the SUV, searching for water inside as Kano continued retching. “Sounds horrible.” Erron said, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “It is!” Kano managed to get out before Erron heard a loud retch and a liquid splashing on the ground.

The cowboy groaned in disgust as he heard another splash. Then another. “My god, you need to get that checked out. You’re pukin’ a month’s worth of food!” He said as he pooped down a seat in the middle row, crawling into the bag and checking the bags there.

“Mmm, nutritious!” Kano chuckled in a hoarse voice. “Ew, don’t say that!” “Looks good.” Kano laughed as he coughed, retching again. “No!” Erron yelled from the backseat. “Stop!”

Kano gasped, “I think I’m done for a while. Uh, find that water yet? Gonna need it, Red.” He coughed violently, his throat dry and sour from forcing everything out. “I’m finding it.” Erron sighed, finally locating a pack of water bottles and effortlessly sliding a knife out, cutting the plastic and sliding a water bottle out. “Got it!” “My guardian angel..” Kano joked. “Just hold it out. Don’t look, it looks fucking disgusting.” Erron scrunched up his face, looking off and holding out the bottle. Kano took the bottle and popped it open, drinking it and gasping afterwards.

“Um, so, does this ruin our birthday date?” The Australian asked. “Like is this..a turn off? Or, rather, enough of a turn off to end the date? Or are we still breaking up..” “Wait, how do you know July 30th is my birthday? My birth certificate is so old it’s not even dust and it’s been like that for centuries..” Erron realized.

“Erron, I was abused as a child; I know when someone has that ‘I wish people knew it was my birthday’ look, you idiot. And Happy Birthday, I guess? You’re even older, hoorah.” Kano mocked.

“Thanks..It feels like forever since somebody’s wished me a Happy Birthday.” “Erron, I’m very much sure I’m basically the only person who’s ever wished you a Happy Birthday.” Kano replied, “But you’re welcome.” He smiled. Erron glanced over, seeing Kano’s smile and blushing. “You make me regret running away. Also, we’re not breaking up.” He sighed grudgingly.

“Nice. Keys?” Kano held out his hands and Erron gave him the keys. Kano shut the door and walked around, getting into the driver’s seat.

“So, what’s the plan for my birthday date? Is it gonna be some big bash?” “We’ll watch 70’s to 90’s horror movies and cuddle. Good? Good.” “Fuck yeah.” Erron smirked, excited.

Kano nodded and started driving. “Put your seatbelt on, we’re off road.” “I know, darlin’. Don’t gotta treat me like a kid.” “Gotta make sure you’re in one piece for our cuddle session, y’know?” Kano chuckled. “Alright, I’m gettin’ my seatbelt on. Don’t try to drive like a dumbass.” He jokingly chastised the Australian. “...Sure.”

[justanotherboringwriter]

||Something Stupid.||

Summary; Kano has to go and spoil it all and say something stupid like “I love you”.

A/N; my scrunkly scrimbos!!!! They’re the sole reason I adore the “I hate you (not really)”, tired x energetic, cocky x unimpressed, and “They don’t know I love them, if they did, they’d reject me.” “I know they love me and I love them too.” Dynamic,,,,,

Word count; 896.

Kano sat beside Erron. They were sharing his bed as Erron recovered from a recent mission, covered in bandaged scraps, bruises, and cuts. Erron was facing his boss, sleeping peacefully, with his cowboy hat on the headboard. Kano looked to the hat, remembering

Kano took Erron’s hat, placing it on his own head. “Look, I’m a Jackaroo!” He chuckled, smiling brightly as he adjusted the hat and tilted it back, a hand on his hip. “Am I a good-lookin’ Jackaroo?” He raised a brow jokingly, posing a bit as Erron stood unimpressed, his arms crossed before he strolled over to the much younger man.

“A Jackaroo? English, Kano.” He teased.

“A cowboy, of course. What else?” Kano tilted his head as Erron shook his head. “Well, you sure are a handsome ‘Jackaroo’. But you’d certainly not be a good one–Bet you’d upset the livestock.” Erron replied, taking his hat back and placing it on his head before brushing Kano’s hair down. “Now you just look crazy though I guess you are, yeah?” He added. Kano chuckled, “At least I know I’d make all the Jillaroo’s swoon! That’s female cowboy for you, Red.” Kano responded. He called Erron ‘Red’ as a reference to The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

He loved teasing the man because he was a cowboy but in all honesty, when he was younger, he’d always adored cowboys. It was his first introduction into the world of male attraction and being around a true cowboy who’d lived through the era of The Wild West was absolutely ecstatic.

He remembered bombarding Erron with questions about ‘How to be a true cowboy’ for a Halloween costume but he really just wanted to hear stories from Erron’s time.

He pitied him, yes, since they both had shit families. Though Erron’s bad family history was more public while nobody knew Kano’s past. He was abandoned as a baby on the side of the New Mexico road, was taken by a couple, and brought to Australia to live what he called ‘The 16 years of Hell’. Eventually, he ran away at 16 but not before killing both of them. He couldn’t kill Basil, his at-the-time baby sister, so he cleaned himself up and gave her to a group of neighborhood boys with instructions to “Bring her to some adults” before leaving the trailer park and never looking back.

He still had nightmares from those 16 years, even now at 35.

Kano reached over and pulled Erron close, hugging him. “I missed ya, Erron..Why’d ya even leave in the first place? Know how much I depend on you. You’re my second-in-command, you idiot.” Kano muttered, rubbing Erron’s back lovingly and placing a kiss on his head.

Erron stirred, groaning and mumbling something under his breath. Kano froze, panicking and trying to figure out what to do before the mercenary woke up. Erron looked up with lidded eyes, surrounded by many decades of dark eye shadow, “Boss?” He sat up, now leaning onto his boss and putting his hands at Kano’s sides. Kano stuttered, embarrassed and nervous. “Go back to bed, Black. ‘s not mornin’ yet. You should get s’more sleep, y’look like shit.” The Australian said.

“So what if it ain’t mornin’? ‘m more focused on what you were doin’ huggin’ me like I was your favorite teddy bear.” Erron responded, sitting back on Kano’s lap and making his boss tense up even more. Kano sighed, “Just wanted to hold ya, is that so bad? You’re one of my favorite mercenaries, I can’t hold you for a little bit?” He grumbled. Erron chuckled.

He settled his head on Kano’s chest. “If ya wanted a lil cuddlin’, could’ve told me, boss. I don’t mind–Bein’ an outlaw gets lonely.”

Kano relaxed, wrapping an arm around Erron and rubbing up and down his back slowly and gently, as if he were trying to comfort Erron. “For such a ruthless man, you sure are a lover. Never heard of a lover and a fighter..” The cowboy chuckled tiredly. “You sound exhausted, Black. Try ‘n get some sleep.” “M’kay..” He sighed, getting comfortable on Kano’s chest.

Erron closed his eyes, his arms wrapped around Kano’s chest as Kano pulled a blanket over them, stroking Erron’s hair and giving him another kiss on the head.

There were a few seconds of silence–Silent contemplation from Kano.

“Erron?” He spoke softly, nervous.

“Mhm? I’m listenin’, big guy.”

“I love you.”

Silence.

Erron sat up and gave Kano a kiss. “Finally got the confidence, hm? Took ya long enough.” He smiled lazily. “You knew?” “Basically since I got here. I see how you look at everybody else compared to how you look at me; all soft and lovely-dovey. Followin’ me like a love-sick puppy, always tryna take up all my attention with those rants and questions.” He brushed his hair back, sitting up a bit to look Kano directly in the eyes. “You’re not as subtle as you think.” He added.

Kano put his hands on Erron’s hips, his thumbs stroking his waist. “So, you wouldn’t mind bein’ my boyfriend then?” He asked a bit meekly. Erron nodded, “Sure.” “Good..Can I get another pash?” Erron raised a brow, “Kiss?” “Mhm. Kiss.” Erron leaned down and kissed Kano again, then peppering his face with kisses.

Kano chuckled, his cheeks reddening.

He was a damn lucky man. “Love you boss.” “Love ya too, Red.”

[justanotherboringwriter]

||I’m Haunted.||

Summary; the memories of his past often haunt Optimus. As a sleepwalker and sleeptalker, the contents of his dreams often spill out of his mind and into the real world, awakening his husband, Atticus.

A/N; for those confused; Atticus is a shapeshifter who prefers animalistic form which leaves his arms and legs resembling his latest form. He favors a dog form so in this form, he has dog ears, dog paws up to the elbow, dog legs up to the knee, and a tail. Imagine it like a partial fursuit.

Word count; 1,410.

Atticus was sitting on the porch of his farmhouse, enjoying the chirping of birds, mooing of cows, pinking of pigs, bleating of sheep, and the sound of leaves bristling in the wind. The cool breeze hit him, gently caressing his face as it passed, making his windchimes float softly to the right, clinging against each other and letting out a metallic melody. Suddenly, there was banging at the door.

Atticus jumped, startled. He looked over as the door practically moved as it was punched with enraged vigor. Atticus quickly stood up and walked to the door, “Optimus?” He asked, concerned. There was no response and his concern grew into panic. “Optimus!” He yelled, grabbing the doorknob and struggling with it. Locked. “Optimus!” He screamed, “Open the door!” He shrieked.

Suddenly, he gasped and woke up, tears brimming his eyes. He was laying in bed, panting. He coughed, feeling his lungs and throat burn as if he had run a triathlon. He sat up, looking around; he was in his farmhouse, in the main bedroom, with the early morning sun rising. He assumed it had just started rising as it was still very dark. He heard thumping and his head shot over, seeing Optimus, the covers having fallen off of him, punching the bed angrily.

“Optimus?..” Atticus panted.

Optimus didn’t respond, continuing to punch the mattress. Atticus watched, struggling to decide on what to do without getting hurt. He sighed, “Honey?” Atticus reached out, settling a paw on Optimus’s back. Optimus suddenly stopped, panting heavily before sitting back.

Sleeping.

Atticus crawled even closer, “Optimus, baby..” He mumbled softly, “You okay?” He added.

“That’s what you get.” Optimus growled, staring down at where he had been punching. “You took away what I had. I took away all you had.” He slumped, still sitting up, seemingly exhausted as he tilted his head up. Atticus took one of Optimus’s hands and he suddenly seemed startled as he looked around. He looked forward, “Atticus?..” He whispered hauntingly. “Oh, Atticus. W–What happened? Fuck, I ruined our wedding, didn’t I?..I’m so sorry…” He started to cry, “I’m sorry. I know how important this day is to you, I–” Atticus toned out what his husband was saying.

He remembered that day.

Atticus peeked into the bathroom of the luxurious resort he and Optimus were staying with for their wedding. “Optimus?” He called out, a bit worried. It’d seemed like his soon-to-be husband had just disappeared out of thin air. He heard aggressive panting and mutters of vulgar insults. Atticus walked past the stalls slowly, trying to locate the source of the sound.

He finally found it–The handicapped stall–And knocked awkwardly on the door. “Um, Optimus?” He called out a bit quietly. The person immediately shut up and simply panted. Atticus tried the door and it was unlocked so he pushed it open, seeing Optimus, on his knees, looking frantic and shaken, his brushed back curls a bit tousled with a curl hanging onto his forehead. He was panting like he’d been running.

Atticus closed the door behind him and locked it for some privacy, approaching the other man. “Optimus, what happened?..” He asked, concerned.

“Atticus?..” Optimus whispered, “Oh, Atticus. W–What happened? Fuck, I ruined our wedding, didn’t I?..I’m so sorry…” He started to cry.

Atticus came out of his thoughts, his eyes meeting Optimus’s tired and tear-filled blue eyes, having awakened somewhere along his husband’s thoughts. “Atticus!” He yelled, “You looked so distant. What happened?” He asked, taking his husband’s furry paws. “You were sleeping–You were punching the mattress and you just suddenly started..” Atticus sighed. “Remember our wedding day? When you had that PTSD episode and you started crying and apologizing for ‘ruining our wedding day’?” He tried again.

“Yeah. I was talking about that? Fuck.” Optimus looked off, brushing his messy curls back.

“It’s not like you meant to; you were sleeping, after all.” Atticus replied. Atticus crawled closer, now on his knees in front of his husband as he wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Optimus wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him even closer and nearly between his legs, nuzzling his face against his husband’s fluffy dog ears. “Did I..talk about anything else?” “Mhm..You said ‘That’s what you get’ and ‘You took away what I had. I took away all you had’. Was that anything important? I assume so.” Atticus mumbled.

Optimus tensed up, taking a deep breath.

“Just some bad memories is all. Don’t think you’d wanna hear them; they’re pretty..gruesome.” He muttered, tightening his grip around Atticus in a protective, almost possessive manner. “The war?” Optimus was quiet for a few seconds, solemn. He nodded. “The war.” He repeated.

“Mm, my poor baby..” Atticus cooed. “It’s all okay now. It’s all over. You survived and that’s all that matters now. So many people didn’t but you did. You persevered.” He added, kissing Optimus’s cheek as Optimus started to cry, breaking down. “I still remember it–The bodies, the blood, the broken bones..I held them as they died. They didn’t deserve to die! They were so young, they didn’t deserve it!”

Optimus sobbed into Atticus’s shoulder, sobbing his heart out as Atticus rubbed his back, cooing to him. “Let it all out, let it all out. I don’t mind.” He whispered as Optimus put his hands over his eyes, clenching at whatever skin or hair he could grab at to pull and punch, trying to release tension and stress. “Hey, no!” Atticus said quickly, gripping Optimus’s wrists and holding them away from his head to prevent him from causing further harm. “No, no, we don’t hurt ourselves.” He immediately switched to caretaker mode, like how he was with his students when they had issues with their supernatural abilities.

“We have healthy ways to relieve stress without causing any harm to ourselves, those around us, and the objects and environment around us. Do you remember the stress relief strategies I told you about?” He asked gently.

Optimus panted, his head hung low.

He stayed still, just breathing, his head pounding with flashes of bodies, crumpled and bloody, fire dancing high in the air with the sour and bitter smell of smoke filling his lungs and nostrils, screams of horror and anguished pain, yells of orders to fire or kill, the bang of a building collapsed followed by clouds of smoke rising high, grounds full of boot prints, blood, and the outlines of bodies.

He groaned, his breathing starting to slow down as he looked up into his husband’s eyes. “There you go. Just breathe. Deep breaths.” Atticus spoke calmly, taking deep breaths. Soon, Optimus copied his breathing pattern, feeling his body relax as his mind cleared up.

Atticus sat back and Optimus got on top of him, laying down on top of him.

“Thanks..” Optimus mumbled, exhausted. “It’s nothing. It’s the least I could do for you, baby. Just try to relax and keep your mind clear. What about a date tomorrow?” “Y’mean later?” Optimus chuckled tiredly. Atticus chuckled, “Yeah. A date, later. Think of that and just stew on it. What are we gonna do on this date? I’ll help you with some questions.” He added.

“Alright, go ahead.” Optimus nodded, smiling a bit as he started to become more entertained.

“First; Are we leaving or staying home?” “Staying home, definitely.” Optimus hummed. “Second; what are we gonna do? Or, rather, will we be caring for the crops, swimming, or something else?” “Hm..Baking? The harvest was pretty bountiful and it’s ours so before it hits the market, let’s use some. Maybe a pie? Or a cake!” Optimus got a bit more energetic.

“How sweet!” Atticus kissed Optimus’s forehead. “Now..” He muttered, thinking. “Any other activities?” Optimus looked off, thinking about if he wanted to do anything else. “Maybe going for a swim? Then movie night. Candies and other snacks and goodies, soda, blankets, pillows–A fort?–And..horror! In our bedroom, of course. So we can snuggle better if you get scared~” He responded, teasing.

“Scared? Me? No!” Atticus replied dramatically.

“Scared? You? Yes!” Optimus repeated, laughing.

Atticus huffed and rolled his eyes, brushing Optimus’s hair back. “Whatever. Can you get the blanket?” He asked. Optimus nodded and quickly stood up, grabbing the covers and pulling them over him and Atticus. Optimus got comfortable again, allowing Atticus to stroke his curls again. “See you later, honey..” Optimus smiled.

“Mhm, see you later.” Atticus hummed.

[justanotherboringwriter]

「 ˚˖𓍢ִ໋📼˚.👹⋆🦴 」 Blog Intro

「 ˚˖𓍢ִ໋📼˚.👹⋆🦴」 I go by Mikyu or Zachary. He/it/xe/fae/zi/thon/ae/cy + genderless & masc prns & transmasc, genderflux, analogender, liminalgender, boything, xenogender + neoprns user. Achillean, gay, & poly. Therian, otherkin, alterhuman + wolf w wings. Host of a Willogenic, Protogenic, Isolgenic, Median copeidentity sys + possibly Endogenic, Parogenic w partial DID.

「 ˚˖𓍢ִ໋📼˚.👹⋆🦴」 Plural, BAH + flag & term coining blog is @infwctednyacifier, OC RP blog is @theviridiancourthotel, & term archive blog is @thearchivaldata.

「 ˚˖𓍢ִ໋📼˚.👹⋆🦴」 Blog tags;

#‧₊📼˚⊹ fic

#‧₊👤˚⊹ oc's and shit

#‧₊📔˚⊹ lore

#‧₊👥˚⊹ plural

#‧₊🗺️˚⊹ other

「˚˖𓍢ִ໋📼˚.👹⋆🦴 DO NOT INTERACT」

Pro/neu radqueer, transid, xenosatanist, para, etc.

Homophobic, transphobic, queerphobic, anti neopronouns & anti xenogender + anti otherkin, alterhuman, therian, etc.

Anti non-traumagenic/sysmed/just here for syscourse.

‘objectum’ + any attraction to objects.

WLW (upsetting false memory).

[justanotherboringwriter]

||TWO undead lovers :3||

Summary; after a few years and a whole lotta mur–Er, deaths that coincidentally followed Jim like an annoying mosquito (Totally not his fault)–Jim Pickens meets an old flame and introduces him to his new husband and they’re all happy. And in love. And weird.

A/N; I’ve been watching CallMeKevin vids for like 2 days and I honestly adore the Jim Pickens storyline, especially the romance between Jim and Agner and Jim and Grim so why not just make them polyamorous? Yet another win for our dear leader Jim Pickens!

Wordcount; 1,021

Jim finished settling a grave down, standing back and admiring the few graves beside his stand. He looked to the small oven and walked over, sliding the tray out and settling the pizza in a box beside two other pizza’s, waiting for more customers as he adjusted the four plates of Pufferfish Nigiri. He sang ‘Country Roads’ to himself, thinking of checking on his farm soon.

He hoped Kevin wasn’t busy doing something dumb again. Or that Santa had been pecked to death by that evil chicken but what’s the point of having an evil chicken other than having it randomly kill people? He heard a drawn out groan and looked over, a bright, psychotic smile overcoming his face as he was greeted with the sight of one of his many lovers. “Agner!” He said enthusiastically. Agner let out another long groan, looking tired and slightly annoyed.

Jim rushed around the stand, jumping into Agner’s arms, wrapping his arms around the zombie’s neck. “I missed you sooo much, honey!” He said, kissing his cold cheek as Agner held him up, leaning into the kiss. “You’ve missed out on so much–Being dead must take up a lot of time, hm? But that doesn’t matter anymore because now, we’re finally together again!” He added as he was settled on his feet. “C’mon, I have someone I want you to meet!”

After a while, they arrived at a bunker. “I hope you don’t mind the mess..I live with a few people and it’s pretty hard to keep up good looks when there’s four adults, a teen, a child, and a dog in your bunker. You can stay in my room!” Jim chuckled awkwardly, pushing open the door to the bunker and shutting it behind Agner. “You first.” He said flirtatiously and watched as the zombie slowly made his way down into the bunker, followed quickly by Jim. Jim took his hand again, “You wouldn’t mind a polyamorous relationship, right?–It’s when there’s more than two people in a committed relationship. Things got a bit..intimate while you were gone. And I have a teenage alien son.” He sighed, leading Agner through the bunker and to his own bedroom.

“Stop barking!” Jim yelled angrily at Scobay Du who was barking while running in a circle, chasing his tail. Agner raised a brow but didn't speak, continuing to be led along. Jim pushed open the door to his bedroom, “This is the best place in the bunker! Only for you, me, and Grim!” He said proudly. “Oh, you don’t know Grim, do you?–No, wait, you do. He’s the Grim Reaper. And he took you when you died. Then when you died as a zombie.” He added, sighing and looking off.

Grim, laying in bed sleeping, woke up. “What are you yelling about now, darling?” He asked groggily as he sat up, rubbing his always tired eyes, annoyed at being woken up by his insane husband’s rambling. “Hi, baby. You remember Agner, right?..” Jim replied awkwardly, motioning to Agner as Grim threw the covers off his legs, walking to Jim and taking his hands, leading him aside. “Jim, darling, listen, I love you–It’s the reason I proposed to and married you, but you really can’t keep doing this stuff. I know you’re the leader of The 15th Street gang and you’ve dealt drugs but I’m convinced you still have some of your stash and are doing it every 4 hours. Be honest with me, is it the cocaine or are you naturally like this?” He whispered.

“I still have my stash but I’m not doing it! I may have dealt it, but I never actually snorted any of the coke, okay?” Jim huffed.

“I’m just naturally like this, baby. Did you not realize I had a few screws loose? I thought this was part of my charm! People love being a little crazy, don’t they? I mean, why else would everybody always be so interested in me?” He added, pulling Grim close and wrapping an arm around his waist and giving him a brief kiss on the lips. “It was but also, you’re a damn mermaid. People can’t really resist the allure of an ethereal voice and otherworldly beauty. Plus Southern charm..” Grim muttered. “But that’s not the point; you have to discuss things such as polyamory with me before you drag home your undead boyfriend. It’s just something that makes me uncomfortable, alright? I have no issue with it but talk to me about it first, okay?” Grim held Jim’s free hand, pressing featherlight kisses to the skin of his calloused knuckles.

“Good to know. I assume that’s a yes?” Jim responded, enjoying the affection. “Yes, it is.” Grim replied. “And next time you come into our room, don’t immediately start with the schizophrenic rambling, alright? Pretty rude way to wake me up, darling.” Grim gave Jim a kiss which the mermaid leaned into, kissing him back and smiling against his lips. “Alright! So, Agner.” Jim looked to the zombie as he was inspecting a picture on a nightstand.

It was of Jim and Grim’s wedding with Grim in a white suit and Jim in a wedding dress, Grim holding the man up bridal style as rice was thrown on them from cheering bystanders while Jim was smiling brightly and Grim had a slight, calm smile on his lips. Agner lifted up the framed picture, looking at it even closer, stoic. “Don’t worry about that, Agner. You’re our boyfriend now. How about we go to bed?” Jim tilted his head, taking Grim’s hands and leading him into bed, kicking off his shoes. Agner settled the picture down and nodded, getting under the covers with the two other men and cuddling against Jim. Grim sighed and also cuddled against Jim.

“And when you wake up, don’t be loud.” Grim muttered to Jim. “I won’t! I promise. Pinky promise.” His husband replied. Grim gave Jim a kiss on the cheek, “Good. And, I know you won’t be loud either.” Grim reached over and gave Agner a kiss before laying back down, closing his eyes and relaxing.