#Budge Jot

[thatsbelievable]

[draconic-desire]

DD’s Yandere Poll Series: Surviving the Yan!Penacony Boys (based on this post)

Rules/warnings: Read the below scenario and pick your answer or comment your own reaction. Dark content ahead!

Incident #3 — The Interrogation

Bright light floods your vision, eliciting a hiss as you repeatedly blink to regain your senses. Shielding your eyes is useless; your hands are pinned tightly behind your back, your wrists already starting to throb.

Once your eyes adjust, you find yourself tied to a chair, arms and legs bound to the wooden frame with thick rope. A few tugs and attempted kicks lead you to quickly relent that your bindings aren’t budging.

Shaking the fuzz from inside your head, you examine your surroundings.

While most of the room is cloaked in shadows, your chair is illuminated with a bright spotlight, highlighting the laminated flooring beneath your feet. Directly in front of you stands a long bar, perched upon a podium to elevate any individual behind it. The room is completely bare otherwise, giving a cold, clinical appearance.

How in the Aeons’ names did I end up here?

“Ah, you’ve finally regained your senses.”

You jolt, the voice to your left sending gooseflesh across your skin. It’s deep, full of condescension and authority, and almost certainly male. Sweat trickles down your neck.

Confirming your suspicions, a tall, muscular figure steps from the shadows beside you.

Your already rapid heartbeat skyrockets. Despite his scowl, the man is undeniably handsome—golden eyes to complement his dark purple locks, full lips and strong, toned arms on display thanks to his single-sleeved attire. You’d typically be blushing as he grips the back of your chair with one arm and leans down close to your face, if it weren’t for the unwelcome and compromising position you’re in.

You struggle to swallow. “I—um, sir, there must be some mistake—”

“You are (Y/n) (L/n), are you not?” he interrupts. His breath, minty with a touch of sage, tickles your nose as he closes the gap between the two of you even further.

“Um, yes…?” You cringe at how pathetic you sound, but really, how else are you supposed to react when a stranger has you apparently kidnapped and tied up?

The man rolls his eyes. “Come now, at least admit to your own name. If you can’t do that, how can you own up to the consequences of your actions?”

Head spinning, you ignore the fact that you think he just implied you’re stupid to instead focus on his latter comment. Despite your situation, you can’t help the spark of indignation that rages in your chest. Maybe that’s what makes you stupid: your sharp tongue. “Excuse me? Consequences? Are you lecturing me? And how do you know my name? Who even are you? Why am I here?”

Tilting his head slightly, the man lets a subtle smile pull at his lips. “Finally asking the right questions.” He stands and paces behind the podium in front of you, appearing like a judge presiding over court.

“My name is Dr. Veritas Ratio, and you, (Y/n), are my wife.”

You jerk back like you’ve been hit. That is certainly not what you were expecting.

A startled laugh escapes you. “I don’t have a husband.”

Ratio hums in response, jotting down something in a book he pulled from his robes. “And what is the last thing you remember before you woke up here?”

“Woah, woah, are we just going to glance over the fact that you’re claiming we’re married?!” you shout, panic creeping into your bones. So not only have you been kidnapped, but the individual holding you is also insane. Great. “I’ve never seen you before in my life!”

A deep sigh fills the room, followed by the sound of lead scratching against paper. A low mumble that you can barely discern contemplates, “Perhaps the dosage was too high this time? Such an amnestic response is unusual… Could a physical stimulus be required to invigorate her hippocampus?”

The damn man is treating you like a science project!

Before you can retort, he pulls out two small vials of liquid, both no larger than your thumb. He sets them down on the table before you and gestures to each individually.

“You now have a choice. Drinking this,” he motions to the right, at the vial possessing a golden liquid flecked with sparkling, iridescent particles, “will restore your memories. You’ll remember me, and everything that led up to this point.”

Remember him? Did he drug you into forgetting, and this was the next step in his experiment? If what he claims is true, why would a husband ever do that to his wife? Your head throbs.

“Or, choose this vial,” he points to the lefthand bottle, a concoction so dark it mirrors the midnight sky, “and you will forget everything and get to walk out that door shortly after.”

Your eyes narrow at him. Surely there was some sort of catch. His language was too vague to be of any comfort at all.

“Why are you making me choose at all? This all seems like one really fucked up joke.” You tug at your bindings again, letting out a growl of frustration.

Ratio pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You’re lucky I’ve grown so fond of you that I can overlook your insipid questioning. You will choose.”

“And what happens when I do? Surely it’s not as simple as remembering you or being freed. You don’t seem like a man who would go to all the trouble. What’s in this for you other than forcing me to be your little lab rat?”

After a pregnant pause, Ratio clucks his tongue. “Fine. I suppose it doesn’t matter if I give away the answers. You’re clearly not thinking straight.” He places his notebook down and picks up a vial in each hand, holding the small things between his thumb and index fingers.

“The gold bottle here will completely restore your memories. You want to know the whole truth about us? How you ended up in this room? Why it’s not the first time we’ve had this conversation?” Your breath hitches; what did he mean not the first time. “Then drink this one. It will probably give you a leg up, since you’ll recall all those past times you tried oh so fruitlessly to escape me.”

He then raises his opposite hand as your horror builds. “Alternatively, this vial will completely wipe your memories, but only of me. You’ll recall everything about yourself, your life, hobbies, et cetera…but in doing so, you will be helpless the next time we meet. You will have no defenses, and one way or another, you will be my wife again. That much has already been proven true.”

The floor falls from underneath you. Aeons, how many times have you taken that midnight liquid? How many times have you been in this very scenario, drugged into forgetting him, only for him to court you time and time again. Clearly you must reject him each time, but he’s so lost in his obsession that he has to reset you each time you try to flee. The thought makes you immediately nauseous.

Despite your dry throat, you manage to croak out, “And if I refuse to take either?”

Ratio’s expression darkens, his chin tipped up haughtily. “Don’t test my patience, (Y/n).”

You gulp, eyes flicking back and forth between this two hands. You must choose.

[mitchellpete]

Kinktober Day 21 - Deepthroating

pairing: tom “iceman” kazansky x f!reader

cw: deepthroating, blow jobs, face-fucking, cum swallowing, established relationship

word count: 1578

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

-

It’s a Saturday night. A still fairly early Saturday night, and you’ve got nothing to do. The house had been swept clean hours before, dinner cooked, leftovers stashed away in the fridge, and you’d taken a long, long shower before sprawling out on the sofa next to Tom, who didn’t seem to mind the silence. He relished in it, in fact, his attention fully on the large, thick textbook in his arms. Paying you and your weary expression absolutely no mind.

His impending achievements were important. Understood. He was so close to getting promoted, had been talking about the ceremony, how it would be the first you’d attend by his side. You can’t remember when exactly his studies began to consume him, alienating him from you just the slightest. He’d read during dinner, in bed, during a movie. Jotting down notes, twirling his pen in between his fingers. Always focused, always persistent. 

But that can’t be healthy, right? Being so goddamn focused all the time? 

It is a Saturday night, after all.

“What’ll it take for you to put that textbook down?” you wonder aloud, tossing the remote after flipping through (probably) every channel on the television.

Tom half-glances at you, but resumes his reading almost immediately. “Why?”

You stretch, your mind racing with ideas on how to make him yours tonight. “Hm, I don’t know. You’ve been reading a lot lately.”

“I need to,” he reminds you, voice a little stern. 

Okay. 

“Well. I’m sure you’ve read enough tonight, no?” 

“The more the better.”

Christ. You stare at him, at the focused peak in his eyebrows as his eyes trail left-to-right. A flip of the page, fingers dancing along the edge. You watch them, eyes set on the sparkle of his ring in the dim lighting. A mischievous idea pops into your head, born out of your sudden desire. “What if I blow you?”

Tom does not budge, doesn’t even shift in his seat. His eyes continue scanning his page, though his eyebrow cocks at your outlandish question. “What if?” he mocks.

You internally groan. But you’re still eager. “I bet you’ll put it away once I get my mouth on you,” you sing. 

Tom smirks, always up for a challenge. He still does not glance your way, however, instead flicking his attention to the next page. “If you say so.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you crawl over to him and slide off the couch into the wide space between his legs. Tom’s face still remains locked and focused, even when your grabby hands reach for the waistband of his sweats. You gingerly pull them down, bringing his boxers down with them. 

You’re quick about it when you dip your head down, tongue planting against the soft skin of his cock. It’s fast but gentle, easy. The corner of his lips curls for just a second at the sudden sensation, but he tries to remain unbothered. A challenge for you. 

It starts off languid, short strokes of your tongue up and down his shaft. You let your spit bubble up in between your lips, wet suction noises suddenly filling the room as you slick him up. His cock twitches, growing hard against your tongue. Tom’s lips part, shallow breaths escaping. You glance up, batting your lashes at him for dramatic effect. 

After kissing and sucking against the long vein on his dick, his eyes above you eventually stop trailing left-to-right, instead staying still on one part of the page, and then jumping to another.

“Lost your place?” you mumble, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses against the underside of his shaft. 

Tom finally looks at you, eyes flicking down to the sight of your mouth working his now hardened cock. He doesn’t say anything, instead stares at you from under his eyebrows, his gaze almost brooding. You’ve won, and he knows it. 

Still, as stubborn as ever, he clears his throat and attempts to continue. Another page flip directs you; your mouth slides up to wrap around the tip, actually taking him into your mouth. You watch him, watch his shallow breathing turn sharp. He sucks in a breath when you start bobbing your head, fingernails turning red from gripping the textbook so harshly. 

It’s a minute later that he snaps it shut, tosses it aside on the cushion and grumbles something under his breath. You pull off of him momentarily, smiling slyly at him.

Intent on taking him in as deeply as you can, you try your best to relax for the very significant intrusion. Your head dips down again, your mouth enveloping inch by inch until you feel him in your throat. Despite taking him in as much as your mouth allows, there’s still a length of his shaft untouched, and you wrap your hand around where your mouth can’t reach. It’s almost dizzying, taking him in this much. It seems he feels the same, his face contorting in pleasure, fingers drumming against the side of his thigh. Like he’s trying to find use of his now free hands. 

You’ve done this before. Twice, was it? Practice, he’d called it. He’d coaxed you through it the last time, filthy words edging you on as he helped you train your throat. That’s why it’s not as difficult now. And still, your mouth feels stuffed, and it’s already almost like you can’t breathe. You try to stay collected, however, breathing out through your nose. Just little by little. 

After a minute, his fingers slide into your hair. He starts moaning, quiet and breathy from the back of his throat.

In contrast, you start gagging, his cock poking at your uvula. You pull up just a bit to alleviate yourself, his shaft sliding across your tongue. You’ve gotten better at taking him in to that point, but you’re still not entirely used to it. After another minute of swallowing around him, you pull off of him with a staggering gasp for air, chest heaving. The saliva pooled on your lower lip drips, coating your chin. You instinctively reach to wipe at it but Tom cuts you off, his grip on your hair pulling you down again. You nearly yelp when your tongue slaps over his cock once more, and he pops himself back into your mouth with a shallow thrust of his hips. You suck in a breath the best you can before your airway is constricted again. 

There’s nothing gentle about the way he pushes himself inside, eager to press against the back of your throat once more. Your watery eyes dart up to watch him. His lashes flutter, eyes lidding in pleasure. Hisses turn into little whines, which then turn into loud, elongated moans. You mimic him, moaning around him, and he groans as it shakes him. 

Tom continues shallowly thrusting his hips, overtaken by his own desire. The wet heat of your mouth is heavenly. He might just toss the textbook for the entirety of the next week.

The sounds coming out of you are strangled and choked out, his cock way too big to be rutting into your mouth like this. Even at his languid pace, it’s almost all too much. Your hand reaches, fingernails digging into his thigh as a warning, and he pulls you up and off of him again. It’s not at all sexy the way you gasp for air, saliva dripping down your mouth. Tom stares at the sight of your lips, coated and shiny and puffy. 

Out of breath, you’re still determined to make him cum, and you lean down yourself to take him in again—hopefully for the last time before you get him there. Instead of swallowing around him, you opt to actually slide up and down his cock, making use of your tongue. It’s close to numb from the continuous movement but you power through, allowing your mouth to salivate as much as you can to make the process smoother.

With a string of groans, Tom cocks his head and leans in close to watch his cockprint in your throat, how it moves with every shallow thrust of his hips. 

Tears sting your eyes, threatening to spill. You continue to gag and gasp around him, his grip on your hair dependent on the noises. He pulls you up just the slightest the noisier it gets, and then lets you bob your head for a while longer. You get the idea to stroke him where you still can’t reach, and that seems to do it; he cums with a loud groan, head rolling back as his release shoots down your throat. You pull off immediately, urgently in need of air for more than a few seconds at a time. The last of his cum spurts out onto your lips and face. You swallow what he spilled inside you, wiping all the slick off your lips afterwards.

He exhales, swiping a hand through his hair before leaning down and wrapping a much gentler hand around your arm. He pulls you off your knees and onto his lap, where you immediately straddle him. You wrap yourself around him, mouth slotting against his for a kiss. He kisses you deeply, his tongue poking in between your lips, licking into the cave of your mouth. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. 

You’d almost forgotten you were supposed to be catching your breath when you pull away.

You sniff, throat burning. Your voice hoarse, you mumble, “I missed you.”

[belovedwhore]

pretty boy pt 5

ethan landry x reader

warnings: smut, little bit of plot, “nipple play”, masturbation (m!receiving), dirty talk, thigh riding, lowkey sub ethan

notes: oh my god hey guys. i’m sorry i’ve been mia, it’s been a long week but i cracked this bad boy out for y’all so hopefully you enjoy it, i’m too tired to proofread so i apologize for any typos. i tried to lessen the amount of plot and get to the good stuff ;)

also i think the next part will be my last for this series because i wanna write other like pov of ethan in different scenarios so im gonna try to wrap this up. enjoy!!

pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5, pt 6

————————————————————————

for the next couple of days you and than found anytime to hang out. whether you were skipping class or making tara and chad hang out so you could spend your time with ethan, you made it happen. every since he gave you head the last time, it’s like he can’t stop. he was quite literally pussy whipped for you, the way you moaned out as he devoured your clit, the endless praises you’d give him, calling him pretty boy, he didn’t said a chance. it got to the point where he could get himself off grinding on the bed with his head in between your legs, attacking your cunt. he’d groan when you’d slip your fingers through his curls, gripping his hair as you came closer to your unraveling.

chad had left to go the gym and afterwards he had class so he wouldn’t be back until much later. you came over shortly after he left to hang out with ethan. it wasn’t just sex, you enjoyed his company too but god the sex was good. well not “sex” by definition. you hadn’t fucked yet, and he hadn’t really complained about it. even thought you’ve been with each other in every possible way he still shyed away at the deed. he was just simply happy to be involved in any way which somehow made him even hotter.

you came over in a pair of baggy sweats and an oversized, just some stuff you pulled out of your closet, ‘easy to get out of’ pieces. you laid next to ethan on the couch as he sat watching a lecture and jotting down notes. he was wearing some athletic shorts and a tshirt with a random logo on it. you guys may or may not have skipped some classes to be able to hang out with each other without the rest of your friends in close proximity. and may or may not be required to watch these online lectures for review.

“do we reallyyy need to watch this ethan, i’m bored,” you whined kissing up his neck. you couldn’t care less about biology 101. i mean who gives a fuck.

“we missed class, we have to do this,” he replied shifting in his seat as you still trailed kisses over his chest. he struggled to focus on the video when he felt your lips on his skin. he loved kissing, his biggest turn on you learned. he’d always kiss you whether you just came on his tongue or swallowed a load of his. he was addicted to your lips. and the way he looked after a long kiss, lips soft and plump waiting for more. he was struggling to resist you now, eyes fluttering shut.

“i mean technically only one of us needs to be paying attention,” you whispered into her ear. you nibbled his earlobe playfully as you continued to tease him. you could see he processing what you said.

“you’re not w-wrong,” he faltered as your hands traveled under his shirt over the ridges on his stomach, “but i can’t focus when you’re kissing me and touching me.”

“ok, then i won’t,” you shrugged sitting back into your spot.

he quietly groaned at the absence of your lips and touch on his skin, “the thing’s almost over, then i’m all yours.” he leaned over and kissed you softly, lips molding together as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth lightly before pulling away. he hadn’t even realized this just spurred you on modern but he’d readjusted timely, refocusing on the video before him. you sighed loudly next to him, slightly exaggerating to draw his attention. he wouldn’t budge though, smiling in your direction, still working on you guys’ notes.

“i’ll be right back,” you quipped before hopping off the couch to head to the bathroom. you couldn’t watch this boring ass lecture any longer and you couldn’t stop thinking about ethan. you eventually decided to take matters into your own hands. before leaving the bathroom you took off your sweatpants, revealing your black panties that hugged your waist under your shirt. you walked back into the room, noticing his eyes on you from the second you walked in.

“where um where are your pants,” he asked dumbfounded. you’d broken his focus from your assignment.

“it’s a little warm in here,” you shrugged sitting down right next to him swinging one of your legs over his own, spreading then so lightly to expose your clothed core. he glanced down quickly before looking up again clenching his jaw.

you reached between your legs, circling your clothed clit. you let out a sharp breath as you brushed the bundle of nerves. you reached to palm one of your tits over your shirt, kneading the mound. the stimulation was enough for you to let out another gasp as you played with your nipple. your shirt tickled your hardened nipples sending shocks to your core. you breath grew heavier as you sped up your fingers on your clit, closing your eyes as you felt your panties grow wet with your arousal.

ethan couldn’t take it any longer, he let out a huff, “fuck.” shutting off the tv and tossing the remote somewhere in the room he embraced you quickly. he kissed you roughly, holding your face to his forcing his tongue into your mouth. he’d almost sucked all the breath out of you. you climbed over his lap, pressing your wet center onto his growing erection. he bucked his hips as you grinded on him, kissing his neck softly. he could feel your arousal through your panties. you felt his hands creep up your legs, groping your ass under your shirt. they soon moved to your thighs, and closer to your center until you stopped him.

“no, you had your chance and you wanted me to wait,” you said after pulling away from the kiss, “remember only one of us has to be focused.” you shifted your position so you were now only straddling one of his legs, his bare thigh directly under your mound.

“cmon you know we have to catch up on this class, i’m ready now,” he pleaded, looking down between the two of you at your cunt glistening with arousal. you pulled your top over your head exposing your bare chest to him. your hardened nipples poked out massively, erect from the stimulation. you brought his hands to your chest and he kneaded your boobs, capturing your nipple in his mouth. he nibbles on the bud, soothing the pain with licks over the mound.

“so i’m gonna focus on me,” you whispered into his ear as you lowered yourself onto his thigh, gasping at the feeling of your clit on his sculpted thigh, “a-and you can watch, but no touching.” you moved his hands away from your chest and placed them by his side. he looked at you in awe as you started to move back and forth on his thigh, your arousal slicking his skin. you played with your clit as you rocked your hips on his leg, feeling the pressure build in your core.

honestly ethan may have been enjoying this more than you, his breath hiked with your own. the feeling of your cunt on his thigh made him rock hard. when he flexed you could feel his muscle massaging you core, causing you to whine out and move faster. his eyes were trained on your cunt moving back and forth, breathing heavy. you wanted more from him, needed more.

“l-look at me,” you cooed, he looked at you, watching as your eyes screwed shut at the feeling of his bare skin between your folds, “you know what i want you to do.”

“touch yourself,” you said, “i wanna see you fuck your hand, and i want you to think about me.”

you kissed him harshly, biting his lip as you pulled away and rested your forehead against, “can you do that pretty boy?” he nodded as he pulled his cock out of his boxers and began to pump his length. his tip had already been oozing precum as it glistened under his touch. you spat between the two of you, your saliva falling onto his cock, lubricating it as he pumped faster, tightening his grip around his length. you followed his rhythm. as he fucked his length faster, you rode his thigh harder, coming closer and closer to your orgasm.

“what does it feel like baby,” you asked breathlessly while you relentlessly fucked yourself on his leg.

“tight,” he groaned, looking down at your cunt gliding across his thigh, “and wet.” he whimpered as he jerked on his cock harder. “y-you wanna know how you feels,” you moaned, “hard.” he groaned as you described your feelings to him explicitly. “feels like i’m gonna cum all over you any s-second, fuck.”

you could hear your slick on his skin, along with the noises of ethan fisting his cock and it sent you over the edge. eyes screwed shut you gasped as you released your arousal all over. you clenched around his leg, riding his thigh through your finish. rambling about how good he felt and how good he was listening to your instructions, “ethan y-you’re so good, so good for me.” you opened your eyes only to find he hadn’t finished yet, he was still jerking himself off, eyes on your cunt. you could tell he was close as his hips bucked into his fist and his breathing became sloppy.

“you know what i thought of while i came all over you,” you whispered as you wetly kissed all around his neck, “your cock inside me, big, stretching me all out.” he groaned at your words, increasing his pace even more to reach his orgasm.

his eyes were screwed shut now, focused on cumming. he hummed as you spurred him on with your dirty words, teasing and taunting him, “imagine my cunt wrapped around your pretty cock,” you spoke, “can you feel me?”

“mhmm,” he whimpered, “oh shit.” his orgasm ripped through him as he came hard into his hand and onto your stomach. he shuddered underneath you, jaw clenched as he experienced his high. he’d never felt anything like it. he felt weak, breathing heavy as you sat smiling at him, looking at the mess the two of you made. you kissed him softly, tangling your fingers in curly hair.

“can’t wait until you fuck me pretty boy,” you giggled into his ear. when you pulled away ethan was bright red, still shy of your bluntness. regaining his composure he realized, “we’re uh- we’re gonna need to clean up before chad gets back.”

“ok, but chad won’t be back anytime soon,” you bet, “it hasn’t been that long.”

seconds later you heard three knocks on the door.

“ethan, i forgot my keys again can you let me in?,” chad yelled.

“oh i guess it has been that long,”

“oh shit”

[brrrkdslek]

MINGI, YUNHO & THE PROFESSOR!

✦ 2 — YUNHO &

❒ you loved all your students equally. actually, scratch that. you loved them sure, but no one beats your top student, jeong yunho. along with the lowest, song mingi. curiosity takes you on a ride as you find out the two are secretly lovers.

❒ college au, teeth-rotting toe-curling smut, student! yunho, professor! male! reader

❒ cheating, dacryphilia, non-consensual (at first), praising, hickies, semi-public sex, good boy! yunho, nipple play, choking kink, hand fetish, possessiveness, teasing, creampie

"so, this equation here..." you pointed at the written equation on the white board with your dry-erase marker. looking around to make sure the students understood the material, you roll your eyes as a few students start dozing off.

"guys, i know finals are over but don't think i can't reduce your marks to zero right now." you lean against the board and smirk seeing the sleeping students now rising from the dead, sitting straight with the biggest smiles on their faces.

you let out a breathy laugh, "ha, that's more like it." spinning the marker with your fingers, you continue to solve the equation, glancing back at the students every once in a while, especially your top student, jeong yunho.

he was sat nicely in the front row, just where you liked. he works diligently and jots down everything from what you write to what you say. he is a 10/10 student as all the other teachers have said too.

you lick your bottom lip as you stare at the male jotting down notes for a few seconds. he looked so cute today... so cute you just wanted to fuck him full of your cum, and you'll make sure that happens today.

as the class comes to an end, you dismiss the students, packing up yourself but pausing as you see yunho still seated, chin propped against his palm.

you followed his eyes to your hands, which were erasing the white board. you smirk and finish cleaning the board before walking towards a dozed-off yunho, tapping his shoulder gently. "uh- huh?" he looks up and turns red seeing you kneeling at the height of the bench and smiling at him, "oh- sorry! i must have dozed off... i'll get going n-" you pulled him back down, "how about we chat a bit, hm?"

yunho bit back his grin and nodded, eager to chat with his favourite professor. you pull him towards your desk as he leaned against the desk, you sat at your chair, "so, top scoring again, huh?" you grinned as he let out a happy giggle, "only for my favourite professor!"

how cute. you got up from your seat, "i heard you've been tutoring mingi, correct?" he physically stiffens at the mention of his lover, "ah- yes, i've been tutoring him for a fee months now-" "weird. although the too student is tutoring him, he still failed his finals," you slowly crept towards him as his ass hits the edge of your desk, leaning in at the shell of his ear,"it'd be a shame if you were doing something else other than studying, right?"

yunho shivers, hands placed on your chest, pushing you away. but you don't budge, instead you leaned even closer to him, lips brushing his ear, hot breath making him all dizzy. he gripped your shirt, biting back a whimper when you suddenly pull away. "but of course, you wouldn't do that," caressing his cheek gently, you bring his face closer to yours, so that you were only inches apart, "after all, you're my best student, there's no way you'd... do something you're not supposed to, right?"

yunho swallows before nodding slowly. sliding your fingers along his jawline to tilt his chin up, "s-sir, we shouldn't-" yunho felt like his heart was beating out of his chest, he wanted it so bad, he wanted you so bad. but he couldn't, not when- "-mingi is waiting out there for you.' did i get that right?" you smirk as you see his smile falter, absolutely terrified. "h-how, i- i'm sorry...!" he looks down in despair, dreading what you were going to do with him next.

you cooed, "hey, there's no problem. i'm just worried about you," you hold his waist gently and press your chest against him, face only inches apart, "no, sir- i- no, we shouldn't..." ignoring him you kiss up his neck, sending the butterflies in his stomach swarming. "do you really think, mingi, who is labeled as kq's 'himbo' would stay loyal to such a good man such as yourself?" his hands which were on your chest, grips the fabric in his hand, "w-what do you mean?" "now i'm not saying this for certain, but i heard he hooked up with one of the seniors-" "what? no- mingi wouldn't that, he- he wouldn't do that to me..." he began tearing up, "there's no way..."

"would he?" you nibbled at the skin of his neck, hands squeezing his waist gently. yunho bit his lip, he knew the answer well, he just didn't want to believe, he didn't want to believe that mingi would do that to him. he let a tear slip out as he moaned quietly, wrapping his hands around your neck. you slowly laid him on the desk, shoving your things off of it in a hurry. you bit and sucked at his neck like you were a starved man, he whimpered and felt his toes curl inside his shoes.

pulling away, you hum in satisfaction at the disheveled yunho. there were tears prickling the corners of his eyes, hair messy, shirt crumpled, and a big noticeable erection from his jeans. "so, should we?" you lift up his shirt, whistling at you brushed your fingers over his toned abs, sending shivers down his spine. "j-just this once..." you frowned a bit, "just once? awe, i guess i have to make the most out of it then."

yunho coughed out as your hand flew up to his neck, squeezing gently. his hands flew to grip your wrist, letting out a breathy moan, he squeezed his legs together. looking up at you, he bit his lip as he smiled lustfully at you. "you like this don't you?" squeezing harder, he moaned out, music to your ears. you smirked, "i see you watching my hands every lesson, baby. you think you're slick, huh?" letting go of him, yunho whimpers at the emptiness before taking in a deep breath, "i can't believe my good yunho is so," you caressed his cheek, "bad and sexy..."

"sir..." you hummed, "please, i- i want you..." he buried his face in your chest from embarrassment, you smiled widely at that, "gladly." leaning down, you capture the boy's lip in a hot kiss. slipping your tongue into his mouth, he moaned at the feeling, letting you take full charge. "taste so good..." you mumbled against his lips, grinding his hips against yours. yunho whimpered and toyed with your hair, messing it up.

pulling away, a string of saliva connecting between your lips, eyes never leaving each other, your grip on his hips tightens as you rub against him. yunho began tearing up again, shutting his eyes as he cried. you panicked, "oh god, nonono- baby, oh, what's going on?" you hold his face in your hands, wiping the tears that were falling. "i- i can't believe mingi would ch-cheat on me...!" he cried as you held him in your arms, "he doesn't deserve you, love."

you kiss his forehead as he breathes in, "you're such a good man, he's missing out." kissing him again, yunho tangles his limbs with yours, never wanting this to end. he internally curses himself for never choosing you first, he was so afraid just because you were a teacher and he was a student. but now, does it even matter anymore? not just from you, but he's heard from his friends that mingi was a player and fucked around. yunho was pure and gave him the benefit of the doubt, which he regrets now.

you brush his fluffy hair and coo, "i should make you forget about him for now, hm?" licking a stripe up his neck, he only whimpers and pulls you in closer, "would you like that, my love?" he felt his stomach do flips at the nickname, he flashed you a tiny smile before nodding his head. "i should reward you, anyways. you did so well on the exam, my little champ." connecting your lips, you made out with him passionately.

"f-fuck me already, sir!" yunho mumbled against your lips, thighs gripping your hips as he grinded into you impatiently. you laugh, "so impatient," you kiss his cheek, "so damn pretty, yuyu..." yunho breathed heavily, his hands unmoving from above his head.

as you unbuckled your belt and slid your pants off, yunho ripped open your dress shirt and almost drooled at the sight of your muscular bod. sure, it was prominent even when you wore sweaters over your dress shirts in winter, outlining your juicy pecs. but god, seeing it close-up is a way better experience than daydreaming about it during classes.

slidding your boxers down, your lengthy cock sprung to life. yunho's hole clenched and unclenched at the sight of your large girth, eyes begging you to put it in already. and for a moment, yunho forgets that he ever had a boyfriend, just enjoying this moment as much as he could. since he never knew if this would be the first and last time he'd get such treatment.

grinning, you pull yunho close and rub your tip against his hole, teasing him in the process. kissing up his jawine, you muttered against his ear, "'aight prince, this might hurt so hold onto me, m'kay?" yunho shivered slightly as he nodded, a bit anxious about your size. he buried his head into your neck as you slowly pushed yourself in, not even needing lube as you both are both literally and figuratively dripping.

yunho let out a tiny high-pitched moan just below your ear, almost making you go manic. gripping his thighs eagerly, you continue to slowly push yourself in, not wanting to hurt the male. yunho shut his eyes in a daze, the full feeling at his stomach making his body shake with pleasure. you could be inside him forever and he wouldn't ever mutter a word of complain.

you groaned roughly as you bit down on his neck, drawing out a lengthy moan from the taller male. as you pushed in completely, yunho felt your tip brush against his prostate, making his eyes roll backwards. you laugh at the male, gripping his throat gently, "we barely started and you're already close," you tutted, "maybe this will end earlier than i thought, hm?" you pulled out as yunho's eyes widen, "n-no! i... i can hold it in, sir! please, please please!" tears started forming at the corners of his eyes as he pleaded for you pathetically. hands gripping your shoulders as his body still shook.

suddenly, your hips snap forward, filling him with warmth once again. yunho yelped as his toes curled, nails scratching along your shoulder blades, eyes twitching from the pain and pleasure. you nibbled at the shell of his ear as he adjusted with your large genital, "heh, i was only joking, baby~ how could i ever leave a gem as rare as you?" quickly, you catch his lips in a heated makeout sesh, slowly dragging your cock against his velvety walls. you groaned into the kiss when he clenched against your dick, you swore he could've cut it in half with how tight he was.

yunho moaned, tangling his fingers with your hair. he felt like he was in heaven, the feeling so dreamy, yet so real. he felt every pulse, twitch and movement of your cock, milking it along the way. yunho grinned as your grip on his thighs tightened, making him all giddy. pulling away from the kiss, yunho whimpered, "sir, faster please!" laying himself back onto the desk surface, he positioned his arms above his head as he looked up at you with lust in his eyes, begging you silently to fuck him already.

you peck his lip, "you're wish is my command, prince." as if on cue, you began thrusting harshly into the boy, sending waves of pleasure into his body and all the way to his cock, which was holding itself from cumming on the spot. yunho's body bounced with each thrust, moans aligning with the beat of your thrusts. lewd noises of skin slapping and yunho's moans echoed through the large hall, making the two's horniness shoot through the roof.

you leaned down and caught his nipple between your teeth, biting and sucking it. "ah- no, sir!" yunho felt electricity shoot throughout his body the moment your teeth made contact with his already erect nipple, "n-not there, ngh~!" tears fell from his eyes at the overwhelming sense of pleasure he was feeling at the moment. he never wanted this to end, and he never wanted to part from you again.

you bit down at the flesh of his chest, making the boy moan out loud as his grip on your hair tightened, making you moan too. pulling away from his chest, a string of saliva still connected between your bottom lip and his nipple, you look down to see the boy's stomach covered in his own cum. you giggled, "gosh, am i that good?" you caressed his teary face, "i'm flattered." bloodshot eyes look up at you, "will this happen again? i-i just don't wanna be away from you..." he began tearing up again at the thought of him being your one night stand, it broke his little heart. yunho felt your cock twitch and- did it just get bigger?

yunho's eyes widen, "w-why did it just-" "did i tell you i have a fetish for when you cry?" massaging his hips gently, you slowly fucked into him as you maintained eye contact, filled with passion and lust, so much desire, and so much love. yunho's face heated up along with the tips of his ears, "every time you cried to me when you did bad on an exam, i had to stop myself from fucking you right then and there," yunho looked away from your burning gaze, "you can from now on..." you grinned, "i-i don't mind-" yunho moaned out as you sufdenly thrusted manically again.

his hips were bruising at how tight you were gripping it, eyes closed and head thrown back as you continued thrusting into him, groaning every few seconds. you fixed your composure and grinned evilly at the sight of yunho's twitching cock, your hand immediately flying to jerk him off, sending him off the rails.

"ah! sir, wait- mmh~! i'll cum if you-" tightening your grip on his cock, your hand matching the pace of your thrusts, his back arched as he came in got, white ropes, dripping down his dick and onto your hands, you came a few seconds after him, spraying your seeds deep inside him. yunho whimpered at the lingering touch of your warm hand as he watched you bring your cum-stained hand to your lips, tongue swirling across your fingers as you swallowed his cum, the salty taste lingering in your tongue.

just as he thought it was over, you started thrusting again. "what!? ah- wait! that's enough... i-i can't anymore...!" yunho cried at the burning feeling of your cock, his stomached churned at your possessive gaze. "well doll, i need to mark you well, so that you only remember me for the rest of your life~" yunho's cock hardened at the crazy glint in your eyes, cockhead abusing his prostate as he thrusted again and again.

god, he's gonna be so sore for the next month.

©BRRRKDSLEK 2023

[kartoffelstern]

dofuwani snippet

a little snippet of some random thoughts on Croc, Doffy and their differences in character - just wanted to jot down a few ramblings while I'm trying to finish up a proper fic

--- 🦩🐊 ---

Crocodile doesn’t like surprises. Never has. He has back-up plans for his back-up plans. Meticulous planning has gotten him up the social ladder where he now comfortably resides among the elites of the world with more money in his pockets than he could ever spend in a lifetime. The climb was long and grueling, but he fought tooth and nail for a space on the golden throne of the rich and famous.

Doflamingo on the other hand has never had to struggle much for acceptance among the nobles. Maybe that’s why he seems so confident at every garish business party with his feet propped onto dessert laden marble tables like a savage and yet he doesn’t receive a single complaint from the snobbish old folks around him. No, they wouldn’t ever think of chastising him, not because he could and would rip them in two if he so pleases, but much rather because the people buzzing around him are too busy worshiping the very ground beneath his feet. No matter how rude Doflamingo acts and how lewd he dresses, there’s a certain kind of grace to his comportment, a je-ne-sais-quois in each of his actions that has the capacity to render most of those around him captivated, obsessed even.

He has natural charisma in heaps. The very same kind of charisma that Crocodile has struggled so hard to secure for himself over years. It hadn’t come to him easily, that power to gather people around you, make them wanna die for you, and he blames his misanthropic nature for that.

Crocodile avoids the spotlight as much as he can. He much rather prefers dwelling in the shadows, submerged in proverbial deep waters not unlike his namesake and rest in waiting until careless prey edges close enough for him to slam his merciless fangs into.

Doflamingo’s lust for attention fills him with disdain instead. That man is too colorful, too loud, too flamboyant, too much. How someone can bask in the watchful eyes of people instead of feeling caged, parade around like a paradise bird with his attention-whorish feathers on display for the entire world to drool and gloat as if the world is his stage and his stage only, will always be a mystery to Crocodile. It’s trashy. Doflamingo’s trashy. And yet…

For some reason, the bird seeks him out at every occasion. Maybe he simply can’t wrap his mind around the fact that there are people on this planet who don’t fall head first into his charm’s gravitation field. People like Crocodile. Now he’s trying anything to pull Crocodile into this pink void of brainless adoration for a fallen god like him and the constant rejections are only acting as fuel for Doflamingo to be even more persistent, more obnoxious, more obsessed.

“Hey, why don’t we team up? We’d make such a splendid pair, let’s raise a little hell together!”

Never would Crocodile let that pink avian pest put a collar and leash on him. No matter how sickly honeyed he makes his offers of power over vast lands and lavish kingdoms, no matter how tempting the prospect of having someone extroverted by his side to deal with that grating job of handling people is.

No, Crocodile’s pride is a bonafide safety lock for the door to his shriveled heart and no bird could ever hope to pick it no matter how strong that beak may be.

Doflamingo may try to open it. Over and over. The lock may get scratches and notches over time, but Crocodile is certain that it won’t budge, no, not if he can help it. So for now he will begrudgingly play a part in this game of tug and war, will stomp down every playful invitation of Doflamingo’s into the sand and hope that one day, the bird will fy away from his den and leave the gator in peace.

Let’s see how far it will take him.

[honeyhobi]

Idea Time

Just me rambling / half writing about a modern avatar au

Tags: Kidnapping, mentioned child murder (no kids actually die though you'll see what I mean), mentioned actual murder, domesticity??? The Sully Family rock idk

BASICALLY what if Spider went missing as a child and Quaritch went to jail for it AND THEN SPIDER TURNED BACK UP AGAIN YEARS LATER??? Maybe I'll actually write this for real maybe I won't. Just felt like jotting it down is all.

The Sully Family is having a typical day on the weekend. Things are normal, the weather is nice, everyone is off work and school on Saturday. Neytiri and Neteyam are in the kitchen doing dishes after family breakfast. Tuk is in the living room watching morning cartoons, and Jake is pretending not to be as invested in them as he really is.

Kiri is also in the living room on her nintendo switch playing Stardew Valley. She's got earplugs in to block out the sound of Tuk's chattering and the cartoons on the tv screen. Lo'ak is at the dining table on his phone, repeatedly typing out and deleting a text message to his classmate Tsireya.

Hey?

Backspace backspace backspace

Good morning, Tsireya!

Did you want to go to the movies today maybe?

Backspace backspace backspace back—

Jake's phone rings and he excuses himself into the hall to answer it. Everyone barely pays attention to the phone call as Jake answers it. Why would they? It's a typical day.

Less than 5 minutes later Jake reenters the living room and calls for everyone to "fall in." His voice is strained, something in it grabbing even Lo'ak's attention immediately.

They all stop what they're doing and crowd into the living room. Neytiri wipes her hands dry on a towel and slings it over her shoulder as she stands in the entryway, Neteyam sits next to Kiri as she pauses her game. He mutes the television and pulls Tuk off the floor and into his lap. Lo'ak sits carefully in the recliner, looking at his dad's face which has paled significantly.

Jake is gripping the armrests of his wheelchair tightly. The phone call must have been bad news. Maybe another military buddy died? Maybe the school called to tell him about Lo'ak's frequent tardiness which is totally not his fault by the way—

What Jake says next sends the world dropping out from underneath everyone's feet.

"They found Spider. He's alive."

Spider. As in Spider Socorro? None of them have heard that name in....well in probably a decade, when the boy first disappeared. An image of the smiling six year old boy from across the street flutters up from the recesses of Lo'ak's mind.

Spider had been presumed dead for years. His dad, Miles Quaritch, has been in prison for the past decade for killing his wife and son one night. The Sully Family were at Disneyland at the time, and while he hides it well, Jake still blames himself a little for not being there. If he had been, maybe he'd have heard something. Maybe he'd have been able to intervene, or see where Quaritch ran off to with the boy.

Quaritch has held onto his innocence every day since. All the way through the trial he insisted that he didn't kill his wife, someone broke in and knocked him out. Yes it was his gun, yes it was his prints, yes it was Paz's blood on his hands when the police showed up after a neighbor called 9-1-1. But if you had woken up to your wife bleeding out right next to you and your son gone, wouldn't you try to put pressure on the wound, too?

Even when Paz's mother begged during the trial for Quaritch to tell them all what he did to her grandson, where he buried the poor boy's body, he wouldn’t budge.

"If I knew where he was I would be the first one at the scene. I didn’t kill him."

But there were no other leads. No other suspects. Quaritch had no alibi or evidence to support his claims.

Lo'ak had been much too small to understand what really happened. He went to Paz and Spider's funeral but barely remembers it, at the time he just knew that his friend across the street wasn't going to be around anymore. Not until he got to middle school and did some research himself did he actually get the situation in its entirety.

And now, everything is changing. They found Spider, somewhere, somehow. Quaritch might very well have been an innocent man this whole time. Jake hasn't gone into detail just yet.

Neteyam asks, "What happened?"

Jake sighs heavily, runs a hand over his head. "That was Norm on the phone."

Norm, their old family friend who works in the police station as a CSI. He was one of the people that analyzed the evidence at the crime scene, he helped put Quaritch away.

"He says that an officer was doing his rounds last night and saw a kid walking aimlessly down the road. When he stopped him, the kid identified himself as Miles Socorro."

"Could he be lying, though?" Lo'ak wonders aloud.

Jake shakes his head. "The fingerprints match from the school database."

Lo'ak remembers vaguely the school-wide event years ago when all the students got their fingerprints taken. He still has the ID card he got from it, buried somewhere in his memories box underneath his bed. The event was for the Child Seeker's Program, developed to protect kids in the district in case they ever went missing.

So much help it had been for Spider.

But here he was, a decade later, showing up with the police. There’s got to be more to the story that dad isn't telling them, or maybe Jake doesn't yet know the details himself. What started off as a normal Saturday has been flipped onto its head.

That leaves them all to ponder the same question. What happens now?

[yatgb]

Agent 8 crumbs PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASSPLSASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE

Okay well i GUESSSS i can ramble about agent 8 🙄 if i mustt

He/She Eight forever and always ^-^ people (including herself) default to she/her but she doesnt mind! Either prns are fine any time. Also doesnt label her sexuality he's just balling

Aside from all the sanitized kamabo bullshit i think hitting her head after the fight with agent 3 actually did give her some Lasting Brain Damage, and she has problems with forgetting things. Her and Agent 4's apartment is PLASTERED with sticky note reminders, even for stuff like "close the fridge" "turn off the stove" because she WILL forget to do that part

Agent 4 made her a little cookbook that step-by-step tells her how to make her favorite foods with those menial reminders to turn stuff on and off and close doors

AND she and Agent 4 have made what they call Eight's Brain Board, whoch is a crime board style corkboard that lays out all her memories and how they relate to each other just in case she forgets again. Proudly on display in their room

Likes wood-and-metalworking just to make little trinkets, most of the time Octivus or Squidmas gifts. The definition of Hobby On The Side that keeps her hands sharp. The first one she made on the surface was a little Salmonid keychain she gifted to Agent 4 ^-^

Still writes poetry too. She doesnt mean for it to be 8-8-8 syllables they literally just. Happen like that. She'll write a poem about literally anything. she wrote one about Agent 4's freckles

I know Donny is the shopkeeper in-game but Eight is the actual store manager for the Ammo Knights in Inkopolis Square. Sheldon hired her before he moved to Splatsville and she proved to be a VERY good employee so he let her take over the store

She and Sheldon often have friendly races between who can take apart and put a weapon back together the quickest. Eight's record is less than 2 minutes for a Hydra Splatling

Eight takes her job SUPER seriously and absolutely Will Not Budge on anything like prices or weapon availability. No "i left my ID at home" or "i'm basically level 10 cant i just have that one" she does NOT care. Rules are rules and by jove she will not only follow but she WILL enforce them

^ that being said she also HATES Grizzco. She doesnt like their shady vibe and has heard many horror stories about the actual work from Agent 4 (who works there to pay off his student loans) and she really really REALLY despises how they illegally modify weapons for golden rotations. Every time she finds a modified weapon she instantly confiscates and dismantles it. It's like a spit in the face to her entire career and she will not stand for it

Very good with teenagers! Mostly bc thats the majority of who comes into the shop. She loves hearing about their battle tales and has been jotting down little plotlines that unfold in her store (like a kid trying a new weapon to impress their crush, or someone climbing up the ranks in Clam Blitz, that type thing)

She has a reputation for being super nice to everyone but really its because she just has a really long fuse. It takes a LOT to get her mad

Charger main! She's amazing with any charger you put in front of her and she's an absolute MENACE in an inkbattle. Her favorites change but "you can never go wrong with a good and standard Splat Charger"

Her favorite battle mode is Tower Control!

She also Is crushing on Cap3 but she will literally never make a move. Partly bc they live across the ocean in splatsville now but also It's Agent 3. The Legendary Agent 3. Theyre Too Cool For Me (Agent 4 has been trying to wingman them together ever since they started hanging out. the pining is mutual theyre both just flustered. Hes suffering)

Idol relationships!!!!!!! Since she is genuinely good friends with Agent 3 she's frienda by proxy with the squid sisters. They dont really have a lot in common and dont hang out much but she and Marie like being menaces in inkbattles together because theyre both cracked with a Charger and love causing problems. Imagine 2 E-Liters on the Brinewater ledge. Hell. She finds it easy to chat with Callie and they'll talk about literally anything. Callie just has that effect on people i think

She sees Pearl and Marina as cousins, partly bc Pearl started calling her Cousin as a nickname but they really are like family. She lived with them for a solid month learning the language and etiquitte before they couldnt put off their Idol Jobs any longer, which is when she started living with Agent 4. They check in with each other every day and fuckig. LOVE EACH OTHER. She always gets front row tickets to their shows

Has only met Deep Cut very very briefly while being a roadie for OTH's world tour. They indimidate her but she'll take Marina's word that Big Man is chill at least. She's also heard good things about their heroism in Alterna from Cap3 so at the moment theyre vaguely Okay in her book

Also besties with Acht ^-^ initially bonding over Side Order bullshit but she finds their practical blunt nature to be really refreshing and calming. They mostly parallel-play when they hang out together. Like cats. She really likes their new music (can't listen to any Kamabo songs without feeling Bad after :( trauma and all. Acht respects this)

Shelly and Donny absolutely LOVE HER. She always entertains their kiddie ramblings and helps them out if they need a hand at their store, and theyre always welcome to work at her store if theirs is slow and they want something to do. She teaches them more about the weapons in a hands-on way so they have more to tell the customers rather than just parroting Sheldon

Speaking of, she's also great friends with Sheldon! Technically he's her boss but hes a very chill boss and she's been invited to family gatglherings outside of work and such. A good friend to the Shellendorf family!

"Hey eight how are you so cheerful all the time you have a very busy job and lots of friends to keep up with! Whats your secret!" Shes literally just in love with life. Thats it. After dealing with so much shit underground and nearly losing everything in Kamabo she has a huge appreciation for life itself. She relishes in the good and accepts the bad because at least she has a choice to experience it all. That being said can trauma responses go away she doesnt quite like those

(Hiiii :3 watch out here comes the extremely thought out backstory i made under the cut)

The reason shes so good with Chargers is actually because she was training under a Special Forces unit in the Octarian Army

She was known in her class for being super smart and quick on her feet but she just CANT build up any muscle mass, and the wasabi supply unit were already thinking of allowing Certain Octolings to use Chargers and Splatlings without being Octocommanders or Octosnipers, so they decided to guinea pig her with a Charger along with a smattering of other similar Octolings

She became like. SUPER good at using Chargers and a lot of her peers would call her The Next Marina because she surprised everyone with how cracked she was at like everything they threw at her. She never liked this comprison due to wanting to just Be Herself

She was also known for being extremely caring and empathetic, which landed her in hot water for speaking out against the way she and her fellow colleagues were treated as faceless soldiers, and wondered if plotting against the Inklings was even worth it st this point. She famously got in MASSIVE trouble for insinuating that they let The Great Zapfish go and was in Detention/Jail for like a While and nearly lost all her progress climbing up the ranks

Alsooooooo :3 in my personal canon she was part of the squad to escort Callie into Octo Canyon. It was her first time ever on the surface and once she got a taste for the real sun she needed more of it

(I know Octo Expansion is likely happening the same time as Splat2 Hero Mode but it makes sense for my canon for it to happen After)

Also she's 18 st the start of Octo Expansion just to tie back into the whole 8 thing they had going on

The whole hypnoshade thing was also thrust on Callie as a surprise and like. It's not fun to be Surprise Brainwashed so of course she fought back before the hypnoshades took effect. Eight still has a scar on her shoulder from where Callie dug her nails in. That experience was also the final nail in the "i gotta get out of here" coffin

Even though she had made up her mind to run away to the surface, it still really hurt to leave her life behind. She had real friends and even something romantic going on with someone special, as well as having actual good standings in the army with a bright future ahead of her, but the surface was more worth it in her eyes. being able to have her own life instead of one she was forced into was so appealing. Her friends think she's selfish and definitely resent her now (even though theyre fuzzed and barely remember her in turn)

Oh and also her name used to be Maia Idachi :3 but since she doesnt know her old name she can't find her file in Cap'n Cuttlefish's dossier. She doesn't want to go by facial recognition in case she mistakes her fime for someone else's and remembers something that never happened to her yknow (got Maia from amai, the japanese word to describe something sweet to tie into her being caring and empathetic, and Idachi from Idako which is the word for a species of Octopus)

[plotholefragments]

Boom!Super Sonic?

Sonic was used to strange things. Eggman being a different pain than usual? Sure. Meh Burger making the occasionally good burger? Kinda fun! But this... this was next level.

He was floating a couple of inches off the ground. His spikes were defying gravity more than he was. His eyes were glowing red. The air around him was charged with power.

And his fur was gold-colored. And glowing. Also his bandanna changed colors?

"So..." Tails said, not entirely sure what was happening, "how do you feel?"

"Like I could run around the planet," Sonic said, stretching his arms. "Twice."

"Well, that's prepostero—" Tails was cut off by Sonic running off. Or was it flying? Either way, he heard the sonic boom in the distance.

He paused. "I hope I don't have to fin—"

He was cut off by a golden streak blazing through the island.

He looked around and sighed. "Four-one-thousand, five-one-thousand, si—"

Sonic skidded to a stop in front of Tails. "Like I said," he said with a smirk, "twice."

Tails looked at the deep furrow. "Clearly." He turned back to Sonic. "That didn't hurt?"

Sonic cocked his head. "Should it have?"

Tails just pointed at the three-foot-deep furrow that cut through several hills and buildings.

Sonic looked back. "Huh." He felt his face. "Yeah, still handsome," he said with a smile.

"What's going on?" Knuckles said. "Are we digging a new irrigation ditch?"

"Knuckles!" Sonic said, appearing in front of him in a blink and holding on to his shoulders.

"Who are you?" Knuckles said. "You sound like Sonic, but—wait, are you Roger?"

Sonic smirked. "Only if you're Travis." He shook his head. "Knuckles, it's me, Sonic!"

"Woah!" Knuckles said. "Did you dye your fur? And get hover boots?"

"No, it's Chaos Crystals! They had a reaction or something, and now..." He looked at Knuckles with the most earnest expression he could.

"Knuckles," he said as seriously as he could, "I want you to hit me as hard as you can."

"Okay!" Knuckles reared back and drove his fist into Sonic's stomach.

Sonic didn't budge.

"Nothing?" Tails said, jotting notes on a clipboard.

"Nothing," Sonic said.

Sonic and Knuckles met each other's gaze.

"Again!"

[wndaswife]

wanda’s doing work on the kitchen table, her eyebrows furrowed as she’s jotting down things with a pen you can’t read.

you approach her and wanda looks up from her work, but you’re reaching down to wrap your arms around her neck before you unload every restrained sob from the day, crying into her neck suddenly while wanda just tries to get a look at you with her hands on your waist, but you don’t budge, you just keep crying and holding her.

wanda puts her pen down and wraps her arms around your hips, pulling you down to sit on her lap as she pushes her chair back to make room for you. she hushes you softly as you climb onto her lap and continue to cry against her, your body trembling with shaky sobs.

“shh, baby, it’s alright,” wanda coos, her one arm wrapped securely around your hips and her other hand rubbing your back. she’s quick to comfort you without question. “mommy’s here now, sweetness. you’re okay.” she turns her head so she can kiss your tear-stained face, and you turn yours so she can kiss your lips, which she does.

when your crying subdues to trembling hiccups, wanda brushes your hair from your face and kisses your forehead. “would you like to tell me what’s wrong?” she inquires, her voice a low whisper. you shake your head, feeling her tear-soaked sleeve against your cheek. “not now?” wanda asks. you shake your head again.

you squeeze your arms around her tighter and feel the soft skin of her neck rub against your warm face.

“my angel,” she whispers, the soft coo of her voice an effortless melody. “you don’t have to tell mommy anything.” wanda kisses your chin and rubs your back while you bask in the warm comfort of her love. “let’s go upstairs and i’ll run you a bath. mommy can get you washed and then we’ll go to sleep. would you like that?”

you nod and squeak out, “yes, please.”

wanda smiles and rises from her chair, careful not to let you slip as you get onto your own feet. “up we go, baby,” she says against the top of your head as you stay hugged against her side while you leave the kitchen together.

her work on the kitchen table is long-forgotten as she washes your hair in the warm bath she drew for the two of you. you sit between wanda’s legs, leaning against her front as her bare body cocoons yours protectively. you talk about a few things that had been upsetting you, while wanda kisses the back of your neck and squeezes your hands occasionally to let you know she's listening the entire time.

when the two of you step out of the bath, wanda dries you up as the bath is drained. she lathers lotion onto your body and wanda lets you do the same for her. when the two of you get into bed, you fall asleep being hugged tightly from behind. wanda mutters sweet things about how strong and smart you are although your day has been so hard. she says how proud she is of you, and how much she appreciates that you came to her for comfort. you hear her say that she loves you, and you hear yourself say it back quietly before you fall asleep in her arms.

[akechiguro]

chrysanthemums.

oneshot | sebastian sallow x ominis gaunt

alternative universe - hanahaki disease

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Synopsis | Ominis Gaunt struggles to cope with the Hanahaki disease— or more specifically, the one who made him develop it.

Word Count | 1.1k.

Content Warnings | disease, blood, arguing, internalized homophobia, angst, hurt/no comfort.

also posted on ao3!

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Seeing flower petals scattered around Hogwarts wasn’t uncommon, unfortunate as it was.

All sorts of petals. Crimson roses littering striking purples of lavender, blood-soaked sunflowers and boughs of aster staining the marbled floorings of the castle. The staff try to keep them to a minimum, or enforcing students infected to clean up after themselves, but their efforts were always in vain.

“Hanahaki” was a term that originated in Japan. The very first case was discovered there and nobody has really been able to figure out what it actually is yet, besides the basic facts; raw, unrequited love manifests into roots and thorns in your lungs until you’re no longer coughing up CO2, but rather flower petals.

Some researchers say the flower represents the one you love, similar to the Amortentia potion. Others say it’s based on the person with the disease, and a select few think it’s random. Ominis subscribed to the idea that it’s a reflection of his unrequited love interest.

Maybe that’s how he contracted the disease. He hated referring to him as “the one he loves”. It made things worse that his unrequited love is a he— it could have been so much easier if it was a girl. In a way, Ominis accepted the flowers as cruel punishment. It’s entirely on him to fall in love with his best friend, a boy he knew he could never be with, a boy he knew was in love with another. Hacking up yellow and red mum petals, feeling the prick of thorns into his esophagus, the suffocation of the roots entangled in his lungs; Ominis knew he deserved every bit of pain and discomfort he got.

He sat in his dorm with the curtains closed and Muffiliato cast around like a shield. His professors gave him permission to skip a few of his classes, just the ones he was in. The mere sight of him made the chrysanthemums uproot to no end, and barking up petals so often irritated his throat. He managed to keep up with his studies nonetheless. Keeping his schoolwork clean from blood was starting a prove a problem, though.

Ominis hadn’t seen him in about two weeks. He knew it hurt, he knew it was cruel, especially considering what happened with his sister, but Ominis was selfish. His own comfort came before that of his friend. His best friend, ever since childhood, six long years spent developing a seed that would eventually drag one of them into the earth. Could he handle the loss of not only his sister but his best friend? Would they be able to comfort him after Ominis left? He knew he didn’t have that much time left. Two or so months if he had to guess. The gaunt features of the infected had already begun to show on his expression.

He coughed. Six mum petals, blood-stained yellow in color. It was rare to ever get a natural red. He’d started keeping track when he realized a harder humming from his wand meant a different color, trying to make a game out of it. Every time he coughed, would he get a red petal to express his affection? He started pressing them in a notebook with all his thots jotted down, courtesy of a self-writing quill. Would he find it after he passed, or would someone else? Would they give him a proper burial if they knew?

Footsteps made their way toward the dorm. Ominis didn’t budge an inch. Whoever came in and out had become less and less appealing as the days alone went by. He convinced himself he enjoyed the solitude.

Four more petals. All yellow.

He couldn’t lie to himself even if he tried. He missed him, all their conversations and childish banter and delinquent activities. The summers spent honing their skills at the cottage in Feldcroft, the late-night conversations about what they would do when they left Hogwarts, the heart-to-hearts had after their fifth year. The never-returned letters to Anne, the gossip about the new student, the scolds they got for staying up too late. The restricted section. Curse practices in the Undercroft (never the Dark Arts, Ominis made sure of that). Impromptu trips to the Forbidden Forest…

He sobbed silently. What he wouldn’t give to get everything back, to experience life with him again without worrying he would find out about the chrysanthemums. He could barely think about the stinging of hot tears in his eyes with each petal that erupted from his mouth.

He couldn’t focus on the open curtain, either, or the brunette quivering by his side at the sight of the blood splattering his work pages.

“Ominis..? What- what’s wrong?” Sebastian mumbled, a shaky figure taking a seat next to him on the blanket. A blanket stained with Ominis’ sin.

Ominis glanced over in the direction of his voice, quickly trying to rub the tears away from his face with his free hand. The other held petals, so many petals, and a pool of blood dripping from the cracks in his hand.

Sebastian didn’t say anything for a moment. Ominis didn’t either. “Are those…petals?”

“Genius observation, Sallow,” Ominis croaked, his voice strained by an irritated throat.

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” He sounded hurt, or betrayed. “You didn’t want me to know you got that stupid flower disease? Ominis, they have cures for that, why didn’t you–,”

“I’m not getting any of the cures,” Ominis told him firmly. “I don’t want to lose my memories. I’d rather be dead than an amnesiac.”

Sebastian gripped his shoulder. Ominis nearly had another coughing fit. “You have to! Do you seriously think it’s okay to die from something so– so dumb?! You’re supposed to graduate from Hogwarts and work at the Ministry with me! They won’t hire you if you’re coughing up petals like this!”

Ominis didn’t say anything. Sebastian bit his lip, his panicked state increasing tenfold.

“Who is it, then?” He asked. Sebastian’s impatience was clear as day. “I’ll… I’ll go get them. We’ll solve this here and now. You’re a great guy, I’m sure they’ll–,”

“Give it up, Sebastian,” Ominis mumbled, gently moving Sebastian’s hand off his shoulder. He coughed.

Three full-sized petals. Blood-stained.

“...Yellow mums,” Sebastian observed quietly. “A flower of…”

Anne specifically was the Sallow with the most flower knowledge. Ominis knew Sebastian would listen to her rambles and learn the language of flowers in his free time. It was idiotic to think he wouldn’t remember.

Neither said a word. The blood pooled in Ominis’ hand was covering his pant leg. It made him uncomfortable.

A minute passed. Then two. Before long, Sebastian stumbled out of the room after whispering a distant “I’m sorry”. Ominis was alone again.

[ashtcnirwin]

how badly did work drain me today?

well, when i was in the shower just now, i was scrubbing off some ink on my left arm from when i hastily jotted down a bunch of vitals there mid-shift, and when i was done with that, i moved onto the ink on my right arm

to attempt to scrub off my tattoo

took me a good five seconds to realise why it wouldn't budge

[alwayschasingrainbows]

Okay, but Emily's Aunt Elizabeth is kind of scary here:

"For days Emily hovered between life and death, then between the scarcely less terrible alternative of death and amputation. Aunt Elizabeth prevented that. When all the doctors agreed that it was the only way to save Emily's life she said grimly that it was not the Lord's will, as understood by the Murrays, that people's limbs should be cut off. Nor could she be removed from this position. Laura's tears and Cousin Jimmy's pleadings and Dr. Burnley's execrations and Dean Priest's agreements budged her not a jot. Emily's foot should not be cut off. Nor was it." (Emily's Quest).

It is a weird situation: three doctors stated Emily wouldn't survive, if her feet wasn't amputated, but Aunt Elizabeth was like: "Cutting limbs is against God's will"...

I mean, Emily DID recover from the blood-poisoning, but what if she didn't?

[humanityinahandbag]

hi, me and a friend are wanting to co write a fic together, and I was wondering if you had any tips for it? we've started outlining things and we've been brainstorming together and whatnot, but we're not quite sure how to go about actually writing.

Hey! I'm going to put @samthefrank in here as well so she can give her own response if she'd like to! But as for me, I can at least tell you what my experience has been, and keep in mind that you and your friend may be a very different case just based on how you work together.

We spend a lot of time chatting. This is done mostly in google, so we can copy and paste any ideas we have. To be honest, our outlining was pretty minimal? We jotted down ideas and put them in order, but we also were aware that anything could change at any time. Flexibility is key here.

We began writing and brainstorming at the same time. Don't sit and discuss for too long or you'll lose all your motivation. That's at least my experience! So sometimes we'll be mid paragraph, come up with a new idea, and write it down into the scene.

Be ready to delete. More writing is often better. Having more about your characters and world is helpful, and having more scenes that can be shifted, moved, tweaked, or used for inspiration is better than having less. But this also means you might have to delete moments you really like. Have a second document at the ready to dump all those darlings so they're not gone forever.

Delegate. We sometimes find that there are moments that one of us enjoy more. You may find yourself writing more of one scene than the other person. I was never big into writing smut (though I am trying to do it more!) and often found myself writing more of the sad or emotional moments. I also was less into romance, and though I've definitely grown, I know that it's not my strongest skill. We both love comedy, so we find ourselves splitting that often.

Be prepared to learn. I've started writing more smut and romance (tentatively). I can't speak for my friend, but I know she's mentioned more than once that she's started using other methods that she hadn't thought of before, but I did frequently. This translated from our fics to our original work. Push your boundaries. It's the only way to improve and grow!

Have fun. That's really key. We write together because we enjoy it! If we didn't, we wouldn't push it. I've wrote with other people and found the experience to be stifling and without a challenge. Either the skill levels were different or the other person came up with ideas and wouldn't budge. I very politely bowed out of those partnerships knowing that I would be miserable if I kept up with it. So above all else, have a good time. You're there to create something with your friend! This is a chance to play, to get closer, and to make art!

I hope that this helps! Have a great time with your friend! It's so much fun to write with other people, and I'm saying this as someone who is usually happier writing alone. Once you find that one person who you can write with as a friend, it's so amazing. You have a chance to get closer and learn more about your own writing on the way.

[thedreamcrosser]

Automatic Heritage Chapter 7: Life

Chapter index: • ch 1 • ch 2 • ch 3 • ch 4 • ch 5 • ch 6 •

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The doctor could not take Beryl in until the following morning, but this did not bother her. Her husband Whitney, however, was insistent that she was to get it done early even when she did not want to get out of bed the next day. When she showed no signs of budging he picked her up and carried her to her appointment.

Soon Beryl found herself on the surgeon's table, the drill noise not bothering her one bit. It was done before she knew it.

“And like that your foot is as good as new Mrs. Beryl. Give it a wiggle and tell me how you feel.” Despite the surgeon’s chipper attitude, the patient’s mood did not change. She looked apathetically down at her new foot. Lying lazily on the slanted table she moved the tip of her foot by an inch and sighed. 

Art by @arcanedragoness

Her husband looked up from his reading and set the Bible on the table next to his chair. His eyebrows crinkled as he looked from the doctor to her. He had seen that face on her many times, but this one seemed to bear a deeper sadness. Getting up, he walked over to her and took her hand into his, carefully stroking her fingers. He watched them curl around his own. “I'm glad you did not lose your hands,” he said with a smile.

Beryl's speech was weak. “I want Cyan…”

The surgeon spoke up as he wheeled his stool to his desk, jotting something down on a clipboard. “Well, whether or not you actually use your foot, I know that it works. I pulled out all the stops on this baby. It's some of my finest work yet!" He patted the clipboard, and pulled out the paper to pin to a board labeled ‘payment due.’ “Looking forward to payment when you can Whitney, no rush.”

Whitney flashed him a grin. “It’s appreciated, Mike,” Feeling a bump to his arm he looked down to see his wife had curled herself closer to him. Without hesitation, he bent down and kissed the top of her monitor. “God is watching out for her, don’t you worry Beryl.”

Beryl's screen was dimly lit, “I know, it’s just… this is all my fault.”

He lowered down to her eye level. “All you wanted was to discover something good, Beryl, that’s all. Please focus on the positives for now my love.”

Her mouth became a squiggle; she didn’t believe him, but her gut told her she had to. There were too many times when he was right. “Okay.” She softly replied.

Kissing the top of her head one more time Whitney scooped her to her feet, as well as did a little dance in the hope of making her smile. She did, briefly, then hid the smile in his shirt, holding him close. 

He sighed. “Let’s get going, we have a mandatory meeting soon.”

“Before you go Whit!” Dr. Mike piped up, rising from his seat to reach for something on a high shelf. “I know now is probably not the best time to bring this thing out…” He pulled out a long black aluminum stick, decorated in red stripes. With two hands he presented it to Whitney.

The pastor took it in his hands, his wife still holding him close. “My hockey stick? Mike, you do remember that I just about killed…”

He raised his hand to silence him as he stowed his other in his pocket. “It doesn't matter. I found it where you last threw it. I figured if another incident like last night ever happened again, you are at least armed with the best tool you got. No sense in wasting multipurpose cleaner. Besides, you got that pretty wife to look after.”

Beryl turned to glare at the doctor. Embarrassed, he looked away. “I know, I know! Don’t worry Mrs. Beryl I still respect you. Not exactly the best habit to bring back up. Rest assured that you won’t be seeing “dark” Mike anytime soon.” He looked back to his friend. “But I wanted to give this to you because I know without a shadow of a doubt that the “Wolf of the Dead City” is never coming back. I know you are never going to think about bashing my lens in.”

Whitney displayed a screen of darker blue with beads of sweat. “Yeah… we are definitely never going back to that again.” 

“Never again.” Dr. Mike assured. He walked past the couple and exited the door, smirking. “Let’s go, we don’t want to keep the ‘Guard man’ waiting.”

“You mean Guardian?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Everyone in the slums huddled around the base of the elevator with enough room to give to both the Guardian and the sentinels. Slums residents knew that the sentinels would not harm them as long as they did not touch the elevator, but that did not stop them from looking out for others who were near it. Beryl was surprised at how many companions showed up, even bots with workplaces had come out for the event. She squeezed herself in, hoping to hide in the crowd. Hoping that she was forgotten.

Hoping that everyone had forgotten about her involvement.

“Pssst! Hey, Ber!”

Her head swiveled to see a rainbow face smiling back at her. “You never told me you had a notebook.” he babbled, hanging the stationary covered in colorful tape and scribbles between his fingers.

“Momo?” A question mark blipped on her screen. “How did you get that?” It blipped more when she looked him over. “And what are you wearing?”

He looked down at what she saw and looked back at her with a smug grin. “Oh, this? Made this myself.” It was a green jacket with a plant life and flamingo pattern. Her friend popped his collar. “Thought it was time that this guy was to get an upgrade.”

“Okay, but how did you get my notebook?” Beryl interjected.

“Oh, Swanito shared…Wait… is that Whitney?”

Looking to the front the two could see both the Guardian and Beryl's husband, standing close and talking in hushed tones. When she drew closer Beryl could see Guardian's face pop to a surprise. A happy tweedle followed as well. 

“What does my husband have planned?” She asked with a squint.

The meeting commenced when The Guardian hammered the ground with his staff, and conversations quieted. “As I am sure you are all aware, we had an attack last night. One that we were not prepared for…”

His pause did not help Beryl's nerves.

“Because of this, many have lost their homes, and it brings me great sorrow to report that it seems many have lost their lives and their loved ones as well.”

Nerves stung more. While the crowd was big, there were indeed some missing faces, and maybe some new ones from the deeper end of the city. This only brought thoughts back to her home. She would never cherish her bed again, or her greenhouse. Last night they were offered a place to sleep, but it wasn't the same. Some voices raised a bit, but their leader plowed through regardless.

“But we must keep hope, it is the only way we can survive. The only way we can bring back the ones lost in the dead city home. I have sent out a rescue team who holds that same hope. You all are aware of Benzoo, Iz, Zil, and Clementine, they are all brave bots.”

“Yeah, Clementine!”Momo hollered.

“Momo, shush!” Beryl scolded.

The Guardian gave the two a glance but stayed stoic. “They have already brought back some, but are still in search of one of the bots that were caught in the brunt of it.” she was caught off guard when he turned to her fully. “Beryl, if you could come to the front, please?

Heads turned to find Beryl in shock. Was he really going to bring her forward? She thought that he was just going to have a brief, albeit painful, mention of her, but he was already holding his gaze with no emotions. Faces full of shock and question marks moved aside to give her a path; sneaking away was not an option at this point. With shaky feet, she made her way to the front.

When she approached the Guardian he turned her around to face the crowd and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, her husband came close to her side. Guardian continued. “Beryl was caught by a massive Zurk nest, on a quest to find new resources with her twin sister Cyan. Cyan is still out there, so if you all can lend your actions, thoughts, and prayers it would be greatly appreciated. As for Beryl, I ask for the same. She is hurting. She wanted nothing more than to bring good to the Slums and I will not stand for the sound of false accusations claiming that this ordeal was her fault.”

A grumpy orange bot surged forward. “Don’t you defend her! If she had been a bit more careful…!”

A loud crack smacked the concrete in front of Beryl’s feet, startling everyone. She snapped to see her husband had taken his hockey stick into a defensive position around her, a hand felt on her back and the blade of the stick guarding her front. Something akin to a growl rumbled through his speakers. Kosma backed off quickly without a word.

Guardian gave a red-faced frown Kosma, but his emotions flipped when he addressed the group. “Speaking of bringing good to the Slums, despite all that has happened, we do have some good news to share. Pastor Whitney, if you may.”

Removing his arm from Beryl’s shoulders the Guardian stepped away to give the couple the floor. Turning to face her husband Beryl saw him pull out a small box from his inside shirt pocket. It was the same paper-wrapped box he gave before her birthday. His forehead was tenderly leaning against hers as he gently placed it in her hands. “Remember this?” he asked.

Her hand thumbed at the paper. “Yeah…” she tentatively said as her face dimmed “Guess I never got around to opening it.” 

“Open it now.” He told her softly. “I know you are going to love it.”

Beryl looked to him and then to the crowd. They seemed just as confused as she was. Why would he want to open a present in front of a whole group? She looked back to the box in her hand and gingerly peeled the tape. 

Only halfway into unwrapping and her eyes bulged. This?! How did he find…?

“A child upgrade?!” Someone shouted. They were right. Peeling away more paper there properly in the companion language the box read just that, along with a cute picture of a newborn. Voices rose with gawks as hugs and hollers were exchanged. Beryl's hands shook, not paying attention to everyone’s comments around her. 

“Another one was found! A new life is coming!”

“Beryl and Whitney are having a kid? They are going to be so cute!”

“You can have our spare crib!”

“I don’t want this.”

Everyone froze when Beryl cried those words, silence drenching the area. Her husband stood, mouth agape, while her screen was almost fizzing and popping. “Beryl?” Whitney asked, “What do you mean? I thought you did want this?”

“I am not fit to be a MOTHER, Whitney!” She bawled. “I just about killed everyone in this city! What kind of mom does that?”

“Beryl, anyone could have made that mistake, please calm down!”

She ignored him, “Not to mention that this city is DYING in the first place, and even if we find a way to survive we are just going to be sealed away in the dark FOREVER!” Stammering filled her speakers. "Have…Have you forgotten that we lost our HOME?!”

Whitney stood stunned, unsure of what to say to his wife as tears ran down her beryl face. He stammered.  “Ber, I…”

She stormed off through the crowd while everyone flashed her a question mark. Not wanting to look one of them in the screen she broke out into a run, to get away from all of the congestion. Without looking where she was going she weaved through the alleyways, tears blurring her vision. Fortunately seeing was not necessary for her.

Stumbling she slumped against a wall. When she finally picked up her head a small bit of graffiti caught her sight. Blinking away pixels she read “Elliot Programing this way.” She was on the other side of the slums, or the new border of the slums. As far away as she could be from everyone.

So she cried because crying was all she wanted to do. After hiccuping what she could out of her system her fingers loosed their grip. In her hands, the box still stayed. “Why am I still holding on to it?” she wondered.

Backside finding the floor she droned a long sigh. Beryl knew that she was looking at something precious. An upgrade so small, yet so significant, and here she was in pain at the sight of it. Her arms dropping in her lap she bumped her head into the wall behind her. “What am I going to do?” Beryl said to no one.

“I don’t know.” A bundle of blankets nearby replied with tension. “What are you going to do?”

Beryl's head swiveled and the blankets became alive, moving aside to reveal a  bothered Companion. Half-lidded the blanketed one complained, “Are you going to keep blubbering or are you going to sit and talk to one of the only bots in this pit who knows the experience of motherhood?”

“Gwap? I uh, well, I…” Beryl was swapping looks, from the box to the bot, unsure of what to make of the situation.

Gwap gave a heavy sigh and picked up a blanket next to her sitting area, then patted it. “Come on girl, we got a lot to discuss.”

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Authors notes:

*le fumes at how hard it is to learn how to properly write*

remembering to write in active voice is going to kill me...

[wolfiemcwolferson]

8 Hospital AU & 24 Soulmates AU Galex.

Because I’m a sucker for both and I think George would look amazing in scrubs. ☺️

Hi friend, a little bit of feelings realization for you.

.

George slides into the seat across from Alex at the table in the cafeteria. He lays his head down on the table and sighs. “Have you slept today?”

Alex hums, but doesn’t really provide an answer.

George kicks out underneath the table and connects with Alex’s shin. “Have you slept? Because that determines if I get you coffee or -“ he finally picks his head up, “or ice cream.”

“They’re out of ice cream,” Alex mumbles.

“So you have slept.” George sighs, running his palms over the table over towards Alex, hoping to snatch his phone from him, get him to finally look up.

Alex pulls back, still not looking up, but he’s smiling. “Go get your coffee.”

George stands and gets his coffee and then he gets Alex a piece of cake that’s packaged in those plastic clam shell things that Alex hates, but it’s 2 AM and options are slim.

He sets it in between them and Alex finally puts his phone aside, but still doesn’t look up at George.

“Hey,” George kicks him again. “What’s going on?”

Because sometimes Alex has a bad night - too little sleep or a bad case and he gets in his head.

Alex glares at him, mouth in a tiny little line. “Really?”

George gapes at him and then Alex swipes the cake up and stalks off.

George sits there and finishes his coffee and tries to think what he did to Alex.

.

He understands when he wakes up thirteen hours later to the sound of his pager, already stuffing his feet into his shoes.

Except it’s not his pager.

He’s not on call.

And then he realizes it was a dream.

A dream dream.

He’s not had a dream in…years.

He’s frantically trying to remember, pulling the notes app up in his phone to jot down what he can remember.

Hospital pager. The same one at his hospital.

And the shoes.

The shoes.

Pale green crocs with a stupid little stethoscope charm.

And -

“ALEX!”

He hears a thump and then a curse and then heavy footsteps down the hallway.

Alex looks half crazed when he throws the door open. “What?”

George is sitting up in bed, shirtless and wide eyed.

“I had a dream.”

Alex’s eyes go wide. “Oh.”

“You didn’t say -“ No. that’s wrong.

He tries again. “I wanted it to be you.”

Alex does that little twinkly eyed thing and he steps in the door, closing it behind him. “Budge over.”

George budges.