#Comma the Hair clip

[palesmokeisinthevoid]

Don’t really have an actual Halloween post but uh

I do have another batch of fankid doodles, because why not

Building off the idea that Lofty was born before the Gardenview shutdown. Sprout refused to leave them with anyone other than Cosmo, so if both were working one would take care of them while working. This led to many questions from patrons.

Vee has her own kid but uh…the first few times she tried to make them things didn’t go well. It took five attempts for one of them to actually come alive and one more attempt for them to live for more than an hour. She started naming them after attempt 2.

Just a sleepy Astro and Andromeda.

Honestly thinking of changing Barnaby’s parents from Finn and Shrimpo to Finn and Boxten (idk I’m a multishipper). Either way neither of them expected parenthood to be that hard after Cosmo and Sprout took to it surprisingly well. They used to work with kids, it couldn’t be that hard. It didn’t take long for them to realize that those two were either really good at pretending to not be tired or Lofty was just a really calm baby.

Flutter can’t hold Comma unfortunately on account of no hands :(. I think I’ll draw her wearing a swaddle with Comma in it later but for now Gigi will just have to hold him up to her.

I don’t have an exact age for most of the kids, just vague notions of ‘this one is older than that one’. Though I’ll always say Lofty is the oldest, the other oldest kids are Andromeda, Rosy Posy, Barnaby and Lulu (who I have not drawn). Percy is the youngest…not counting the two kids who I have not sorted out the ages of and have not even mentioned the names of (might as well do that now, Debbie the Muffin and Sunny the Betta fish) he’s just a few months old, a lil guy. The other youngest kids are Becky, Finn Jr, Pearl and Gabe

[artslovergirl]

red wine supernova

recently divorced!tashi duncan x reader

notes: cw: age gap of 9 years! reader is a girlfailure loser who would sell her soul for one chance with tashi duncan, tashi being a twilight fan mention (tashi duncan weird girl agenda), reader is the biggest tashi apologist ever she does not gaf, artashi caught a stray in this im sorry i promise i love them, commas are just fun accessories to me, if you read all of this i will give kiss ur heart and soul, i love u chappell roan thank u for this song, tashi duncan a girlfriend WILL save you in this

wordcount: 9.6k (omfg)

she was a playboy, brigitte bardot

she showed me things, i didn't know

you met tashi duncan by complete accident. like actually.

you didn't meet her in the stands at a match for any of the new players she's coaching or some fundraiser or gala that only rich people would attend. you met her at the grocery store. you remember it pretty specifically because the memory makes you crumple up in embarrassment every time. 

you turned your shopping cart around the corner, your mind being laser focused on getting green tea because you forgot it last week and you were almost out and you also forgot your grocery list at home which means you’ll inevitably buy everything BUT the stuff that you need and- 

is that tashi donaldson? you stopped in your tracks, it felt like your whole system had been reset. holy shit. that IS her.

she was wearing a tight black top, designer pants with three golden necklaces (that you were sure cost more than your laptop) and her bob was thrown into a short low ponytail.

you felt like a deer in headlights considering that you’d never really met a celebrity before. i mean, you had only gotten into watching tennis a couple of years ago ( at first only because of your stupid ex boyfriend, but now you enjoyed it genuinely…and you enjoyed it as a way to spite him a little too.) but still she counted as a celebrity to you. 

a celebrity you find crazy hot. oh god and of course you looked severely terrible right now. you had just thrown on the first outfit you saw and threw your unwashed hair up with a claw clip. also you had not cared enough to put on shoes and were just wearing slippers.

great. not as if you wearing a cocktail dress and having a blowout would have really changed anything but maybe you did have the fantasy that if you looked hot enough you could seduce this powerful gorgeous rich woman. not that it matters now since that wasn't what was happening at all.

should you say something? no, right? you'd imagine that no one would really want to be disturbed by a fan while shopping for groceries of all things. then again, she didn't even have a shopping cart. or a basket. so maybe it would be fine? what was she even doing here? you highly doubted that you and tashi fucking donaldson were in the same tax bracket.

she should be at erewhon or whatever that store for rich people that get off on paying 30 dollars for bread is called. fuck it, you were gonna say something. you gingerly walked up to her, noting that the closer you got the more intimidating her presence felt. 

“hey, i'm so sorry to bother you but are you tashi d-” before you could get out the rest of your sentence your gaze fell onto the tabloids that were propped up on the shelf behind her. on the covers stood in big fat neon yellow letters “DONALDSONS DIVORCE? Is this it for the Tennis-IT couple?”

oh, right. divorce. fuck. what is it now…duncan or donaldson? fuck. tashi obviously noticed the sudden break in your sentence and the way your eyes were glued to something behind her. she turned around, saw the unmissable headline, huffed and turned back to you. “just duncan is fine.” she said, staring down at you with an expression you couldn't quite read.

you felt your stomach drop in shame and suddenly really prayed that the floor would open up and just swallow you whole so you wouldn't have to continue embarrassing yourself in front of one of the hottest women you had ever seen.

“right, i'm so sorry, i didn't want to be rude but uh.. that just now made me seem very rude.” you awkwardly stammered, drumming your fingers against the warm plastic handle of your shopping cart. your hands were sweating. 

to your relief she just gave you a small smile and shook her head, “don't worry about it, this isn't the first time this has happened.” you were honestly surprised at her nonchalance. in your mind she could have pulled out a gun and shot you point blank for that and you would've probably forgiven her. 

“ah..yeah..still. sorry. um, i just came over to say that im um..a big fan. i mean, ever since you started coaching hayden and torres, their game totally changed, its insane.” you felt like you were forgetting to breathe because your entire focus was on making a somewhat good impression and hopefully making her forget what just happened.

tashi seemed a little amused by your nervous energy, that's something at least. “thank you, they were already great players just needed some refinement.” she looked you up and down. you felt a shiver run up your body as if her gaze had physically touched you.

“ah, well, yeah, i just mean if you compare this season to last season..um..anyway..” you shifted from foot to foot anxiously. she was so hot. a faint smirk tugged at her lips.

“do you play?” 

“hm?” 

“tennis?”

 “oh!”

you shook your head quickly. “no, no, i'm far too unathletic for that.” you chuckled to divert from the fact that you had been so caught up in mentally drooling over her that you made her specify tennis.

“uh, plus the barrier to entry is a bit too expensive for me. i mean rackets and lessons and all that..” you fiddled with the hem of your worn down sweater. you're pretty sure you've had this sweater since middle school and now you were wearing it while meeting the hottest woman alive. tashi duncans gaze felt like the sun, and for some reason she insisted on making very intense eye contact with you. 

“right. well maybe you can give it a try one day, i think it would suit you.”

does this make you now legally obligated to play tennis? it really feels like it. you feel heat crawl up your neck.

“ha…really?” you sound like you're gasping for air. 

she looked you up and down again. jesus christ. “mhm.” 

okay, well, you were on the verge of passing out and she really wasnt giving you a lot to work here conversation wise so you just squeaked out, “um…do you mind signing something?” she seemed a little surprised for a second like she had forgotten the reason you had come up to her in the first place, but after a short moment she nodded. “sure.” 

you rummaged through your messy bag, trying to find anything signable (yeah, you hadn't really thought asking for a signature through) but luckily you quickly found your daily planner and a random hello kitty pen you genuinely didn't remember buying.

you began thumbing through your planner until you found a blank page and quickly handed the two items to her for her to sign.

you felt awkward just watching her sign so you pretended to browse the aisles with your gaze until the handed the small book and pen back to you.

“thank you so much!” you eagerly took it and stuffed it back in your bag. “sorry for taking up your time.” you chuckled sheepishly.

“its really not a problem. it was nice meeting you.” you were genuinely about to melt into the floor. “u-um..oh! yeah, it was really really nice meeting you too!” you nodded a little too intensely.

you exchanged small waves before you watched her disappear down an aisle. as soon as she was out of earshot you exhaled sharply and you draped your torso over your shopping cart like a ragdoll.

oh my god.

put her canine teeth

in the side of my neck

later that evening (after unpacking your groceries and realizing that you had indeed forgotten to buy green tea) you read through every article written on the donaldson's relationship and recent divorce.

you even paid for the ones hidden behind paywalls.

you felt a little ashamed of it, since you knew a lot of these journalists loved to exaggerate for the sake of drama but you just..wanted to know everything.

and you stumbled across a particular article that left you...gob-smacked for a lack of a better term. it was titled:

‘what really happened at the phil’s tire town challenger?’

you remember vaguely hearing about that a couple months ago...maybe a year ago? but you didn't think much of it at the time. but this? this article revealed everything that was truly beneath the surface of that match.

it revealed relationship entanglements between tashi her (now ex) husband and her ex-boyfriend that led all the way back to 2006. you were honestly a little concerned how they even got this much information.

you should probably be scandalized or shocked or whatever but honestly all you could think was: what a woman. she made two guys play a fucking tennis match not to win the us open juniors singles title but to win her number? what a fucking woman.. 

the next day you opened up your planner to write down an appointment you had just booked when you were greeted by tashi’s signature. before you could swoon and admire her pretty handwriting you noticed something you hadn't seen when haphazardly throwing the planner into your bag earlier. a string of neatly written numbers under her autograph. holy shit. she gave you her number.

i'm in the hallway waitin' for ya

mini skirt and my go-go boots

“is this too short? or like…just short enough?”

you did a small twirl for your roommate, aubrey, who you had been subjecting to a fashion show of different skirts for the past ten minutes.

“show me the back again?” she was half paying attention to you, half scrolling twitter. you turned around. “you cant see my ass right? i don't want to flash her. leave a little mystery y'know.”

she looked up for a second and then nodded, “no, you're good. just pick that one.” you huffed at her lack of taking this seriously. to be fair you hadn't told her that the “recently divorced slightly older woman” you’d be seeing was tashi duncan but still! where’s the support!

you looked back in the mirror…hm…this one did look cute while not showing off too much. also you only had an hour left until the meeting and you still had to put on the rest of the outfit and style your hair, so this one would have to do.

“okay, thanks, love you, bye.” you hurriedly skipped to your room. “hey! you left all your shit all over the floor!” aubrey yelled after you pointing towards the mountain of clothes you had discarded after mixing and matching outfits.

“i'll pick it up later!” you yelled back as you slammed the door behind you and you could faintly hear her responded with a groan. whatever! this was literally the opportunity of a lifetime! you were going on a FUCKING DATE with the hottest woman to ever live who just also happened to be insanely rich and one of the most iconic figures in the tennis world.

you must've been a nurse or a doctor or something equally charitable in a past life to deserve this.

okay, well, to be fair…you weren't 100 percent sure if this was…actually a date? but you also didn't know what else she could possibly mean by meeting. what actual business would she have to discuss with a 24-year old college dropout who doesn't even play tennis?

you had texted a little bit with tashi since that fateful day, three weeks ago, when you discovered her number in your planner. you still had no clue why she gave it to you but you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

the many drafts you had crafted for the first message to her were still in your notes app and looking back on it, each one seemed more pathetic than the last.

the one you ended up sending was okay, not great, but you quickly realized that tashi preferred calling to texting anyway. which suited you just fine because her style of texting was far more formal than you were used to (i.e. she capitalized the appropriate words and used periods at the end of her sentences.)

and it always made you just a tad nervous she was mad at you or something. for about two weeks now, it had almost become routine to receive a call from tashi at exactly 10 pm, which was when she always did her nightly routine.

you knew that because you could always faintly hear her changing into a night robe and applying various lotions and cleansers. it made your heart beat three times faster thinking about the fact that even with how busy she was, she worked to somehow fit you in.

the first calls were..a little clunky and awkward mostly due to the fact that you could barely hear anything she said over the booming sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

but as soon as you made her laugh for the first time all that anxiety seemed to just dissipate. it made you realize she wasn't asking you to perform for her, and she seemingly enjoyed you the way you are.

after that, each conversation flowed much easier and even though you seemingly didn't have much in common on the surface, you found yourselves talking for an hour every night.

the topics didn't matter, because every topic was exciting and made you giggle and kick your feet as long as you were talking about it with her. 

you sat down at your desk and examined yourself in the small vanity mirror that stood on it. you huffed and quickly began messing around with your hair and touching up your makeup until you were finally satisfied with the results.

and then right on time your phone started buzzing aggressively on your small desk, effectively scaring the shit out of you, with a reminder that you had to leave like right now to catch the subway.

you checked yourself out in the mirror one last time. you took a deep breath. okay..okay..you looked good. hot. super hot definitely. hot enough to go on a date with tashi duncan? well, no, no one would ever achieve such a thing but you got close enough.

you grabbed your small purse and rushed out of your room to quickly strap on your heels in the hallway. as you shut the front door behind you, you heard aubrey shout after you “good luck, hope you get fingered!”

a girl can dream.

okay, really, you didn't need to be running.

you had left with like 20 minutes buffer time to get to her place just in case something went wrong but..you somehow needed to get that pent up anxiety out lest you end up vomiting it all out later.

but as you began booking it down your street towards the subway station a loud honking violently stopped you in your tracks.

you automatically whipped your head around to look for the origin of the noise. there was a sleek black car parked right in front of your shitty but overpriced new york apartment complex. there's no way that belonged to anyone living here. you were a little tempted to keep running since this seemed sketchy as hell.

the car honked again and the driver leaned out the window, he was dressed in some kind of uniform? “i’m here to pick you up for miss duncan?” he raised a brow like he wasn't sure if you were really the one he was here for.

maybe because you were staring at him like you’d never seen a chauffeur before. huh. now that you think about it, you actually had never seen a chauffeur before.

“oh..um..tashi duncan?” you almost whispered like it was a secret that needed to be kept. he gave you a look. rude.

“yes. tashi duncan.” he replied. “um..i don't mean to be rude but is there like..confirmation for that? because..i don't just want to get in some guy's car.”

the driver already seemed fed up with you. at that moment your phone buzzed again but this time with a text message from none other than the woman of your dreams. 

“I sent you a ride. I think the subway is far too dangerous for you to take this late.” 

talk about timing. you looked up from your phone and shot the driver an apologetic smile as you quickly clambered into the backseat.

wow, this is a fancy ass car. and it had that weird new car smell. you knew that most people liked it but it just made you dizzy for some reason.

now that you didn't have to worry about arriving on time, you could stop freaking out about that and instead freak out about the fact that..

holy shit, she sent a car for you! you weren't quite sure if this was like a for real chauffeur or just a very fancy uber but you didn't care because it just made you so giddy. like this was definitely confirmation that this was a date, right? right? yes, totally…possibly! 

it was also a little exciting to receive this kind of treatment, especially from a woman like her. 

shortly before you arrived you checked your reflection in the car's tinted window. you pulled out your shimmery cherry scented lip gloss and applied it generously until you could see your lips shine. perfect!

breathe in, breathe out, this will go fine. this will go perfectly. you gave yourself an encouraging nod (and immediately cringed at yourself for it.) 

you mumbled a quick thanks to the driver and quickly got out as soon as the car slowed to a stop. your 2 inch heeled boots could be heard clacking against the pavement as you walked towards probably the most luxurious apartment complex you had ever seen.

it was very much “insanely wealthy recent divorcee” chique.

then you noticed the door man who was already looking at you a little weirdly, probably because you had stumbled towards the apartment like a newborn fawn.

“um, hello.” you gave a polite smile. “i’m um..here to visit tashi duncan?” you didn't know why you phrased it like a question, you should really be more assertive, this was all just so unusual for you.

“right. youre miss y/ln?” your heart fluttered..because this meant she had informed him prior to your visit and that this was all real and happening. “yes.” you nodded quickly and even showed your ID even though he insisted it really wasn't necessary. 

on the elevator ride up you could feel anxiety in the form of nausea burrow itself through your stomach lining. oh, god. this would be fine. ding. the doors opened. 

you were immediately enveloped by the warm scent of cinnamon mixed with fresh laundry and expensive perfume. that scent seemed to go through your nose and slowly invade each part of your body until it softly curled up in your heart, making you yearn to never smell anything but this ever again. you took a cautious step out of the elevator and took in your surroundings. 

it wasn't a surprise that this apartment was maybe…5 times the size of yours? maybe 6? it seemed huge from just the size of the entryway. the color scheme was quite neutral, with a lot of white and earthy tones which you could appreciate.

it gave everything a sense of calm and comfort. it was well-decorated too, which you had already expected but evidence of her having good taste only made you even more attracted to her. 

you must've spaced out because all of a sudden the woman herself stood in front of you. and she was an absolute vision. the soft warm lights of the apartment bathed her in its glow making her dainty golden jewelry glimmer, her short gently curled locks fell around her defined face like a silk curtain, her skin shimmered like fresh morning dew and the pearl colored dress she wore accentuated her chest and wrapped around her hips like honey. 

“hey.” she smiled softly as she took a step closer. you were NOT gods strongest soldier in this moment. or any moment. but especially this one.

all the nerves you had gotten over during the phone calls returned full force now that she actually stood in front of you, looking like a muse. you weren't sure if you could handle all that to be perfectly frank.

“h..hi. thank you for..sending the ride.” you stammered out in a low breath. “i wasn't really looking forward to having to endure the smell of urine for an hour on the subway..” you continued just because the silence made you nervous. 

“it’s no problem. i figured as much. plus i couldn't possibly make you take the subway to our first date, hm?” she said it like that sentence alone didn't put you at serious risk for spontaneous combustion.

so this was a date! you didn't even notice but you were absolutely beaming at her. “oh..well..yeah, um..thank you, anyway.” your front teeth caught your bottom lip in their grasp. you could feel her slender fingers wrap around your wrist and she gently led you through her apartment, you weren't sure where to.

but you didn't care, wherever she wanted you to be that's where you would go. “you have really good taste..like..decorating wise and stuff” your voice was still shaky but you were feeling a bit more at ease now that she had confirmed that this was in fact a date. 

she looked back at you over her shoulder. “you like it?” she smiled. “yeah!” you nodded a little too eagerly, “it's very..hm..calming. i think. and very chique.” she let out a bemused exhale through her nose at your use of the word ‘chique’. “i appreciate it.” she assured you with a small glimmer of something in her eyes.

i just want you to make a move

so slow down, sit down, it's new

in the center of her spacious dining room stood a circular glass table which was set up beautifully with candles flickering gently while they illuminated the two plates that you could now see carried your favorite dinner. (huh, so that's why she asked you about that yesterday.) the plates were accompanied by two wine glasses and a small dish of creme brulee set to the side. 

you were honest to god speechless. i mean… i mean , what do you even say in this situation. the fact that this woman was evidently just as enamored with you as you were with her was something you still had difficulty comprehending.

everything moved so quickly and yet at the same time these past two weeks felt like they stretched over months.

she gently led you towards the chair, you could feel the gentle pressure of her hand against the small of your back. you tried to remember to breathe.

you took a seat and she headed over to the counter that connected her dining room and kitchen. she grabbed the two wine bottles that you hadn't even noticed until that very moment.

she held them up and asked, “red wine or white?” to be truthful, you had never really drunk wine before. you vaguely remember having it once on your 20th birthday, but not ever since. that made you feel a little immature, so instead of admitting this you just blurted out, “white?” out of sheer panic.

she nodded and carried both bottles over to the table and poured white wine in your glass and red wine in hers. looking at the glasses you secretly wondered if this meant kissing her later would now taste like rosé. 

as she took her seat across from you the candlelight highlighted her face in the most flattering way, defining her sharp features while somehow softening them at the same time as she sat before you.

one thing that was the exact same in real life as it was on tv and photos, was tashi's intense gaze. at first it made you anxious but now it simply excited you. you almost reveled in it. you wanted her gaze to be on you. to pin you down. 

“i have one rule for tonight.” she spoke up after taking a sip of her wine. your eyes widened a little, like a curious fox you tilted your head to prompt her to continue. “no tennis talk.” she said with a certain seriousness. oh. phew. that you could certainly handle. and it wasn't very surprising either. most people didn't enjoy shop-talk during dates.

“that is gonna be no problem for me.” you chuckled with slight relief. “i mean, not that i would really have that much to say about it anyway. i'm more of a casual fan anyway.” you shot her a quick sheepish grin, quietly fidgeting with the hem of your miniskirt under the table. 

you could see a faint smile play on her lips in response. silence could only fill the room for a mere second before you spoke again, “i kind of have to admit um..i’m a little nervous.”

to say that you were stating the obvious was an understatement.

“i could tell. you don't have to be.” she reached over and gently ran a finger over the back of your hand, tracing your veins. you shivered.

“i know, it’s just…i don't know. i want this to go well.” you nervously looked up to meet her gaze. “it will.” she hummed.

“we’ll just talk, like on the phone.” her voice was like a soothing balm to your pounding heart. “yeah, but it's different. like..being here. a..and..i..”

should you admit it? you were almost sure she wouldn't care, yet you were riling yourself up about it. she raised a brow. “i've never really..like i don't have any experience with women.”

she intertwined your hand with hers. “that's okay, i mean, the last time i was with a girl was like..college.” she chuckled wryly.

she continued, “really, that doesn't matter to me. i just wanna get to know you.” she reassured you as she squeezed your hand. in that moment she made you feel so seen and so safe with such ease that you wanted to cry a little.

but obviously, you wouldn't, because that would be supremely lame to do on a first date..okay, tearing up did not count! (thankfully she did you the kindness of not pointing it out.)

i like, i like, what you like, what you like

long hair, no bra, that's my type, that's right

after her reassurance, your nervousness started to slowly ebb away and your conversation started to flow more naturally again.

the dinner was long done by this point and you now sat next to her on the couch with your legs almost touching hers. you were already feeling a small buzz in your system that led to you feeling very giggly as you sipped on your second glass of white wine.

tashi was currently recounting the story of her first and last frat party she went to at stanford, to be honest, you were only paying half attention. you tried very hard (really, you did) to not stare at her lips but it was getting harder and harder the more tipsy you got and you were definitely laughing way too much at her story to overcompensate.

you knew she noticed because she leaned a little closer, her arm leaning on the backrest of the couch, “you are not listening to me at all right now.” she huffed playfully, a smirk dancing over the very soft-looking lips.

“what?” you giggled and subtly shifted so her thighs were fully touching yours now. “no, i'm listening.” you tried so hard not to grin but the way she was looking at you just made you want to smile and giggle and kick your feet.

“what did i just say then?” she raised a brow and leaned even closer. you could smell her perfume and it made you dizzy. “uh…umm..” you scrunched up your nose in thought. “some guy..did..something?”

she rolled her eyes but you could tell she was only teasing, “good guess.”

“what, so youre gonna tell me i'm wrong?” you challenged playfully. “i’m saying you're not paying attention.” she hummed, her hand reaching out to gently play with your hair which made you feel the urge to curl up in her lap like a cat.

ooh, okay, you were gonna go for it now because you were justttt tipsy enough to not cringe at yourself flirting. you leaned forward, you could feel her breath on your cheek, “can you blame me?” you muttered, now unabashedly staring at her lips.

she seemed caught off guard by your sudden forwardness but she certainly didn't seem to mind it. her head tilted down a little until her nose brushed yours, “i guess not.” she grinned like she knew she had you in the palm of her hand. and she was right.

you wanted to kiss her so bad in this moment that if she asked for it, you were certainly not above getting on your knees and begging. your fingertips trailed over her thigh and you were looking up at her with the most pathetic ‘please kiss me’ eyes you could manage.

apparently that worked on her because before you could form another thought you felt her lips brush yours and everything in your mind screeched to a halt. your breath hitched and you eagerly reciprocated, the hand resting on her thigh tensing slightly.

you could feel her ringer-clad fingers travel down to your waist and squeeze gently which elicited the most embarrassing whimper out of you.

you could feel her smile into the kiss in response. subconsciously almost, you leaned even closer to press against her like you were trying to mold yourself to fit against her body like a puzzle piece.

one of your hands tentatively traced over her chest. you already knew she wasn't wearing a bra, since her dress had very thin straps but exposed no bra straps. but to actually somewhat feel it through the silky fabric clinging to her curves felt life-altering.

her other hand began to reach up to gently caress the back of your head, tangling her fingers in your hair, to draw you closer into the kiss. 

you weren't sure if it was because she was older and more experienced or if it was because you'd never kissed a woman before or maybe everyone you've ever made out with before her sucked but if you were honestly not sure if you could ever kiss anyone but her again after this.

it was like she had been given a manual on you and your body and she knew every single button she had to press to make you gasp and yearn for more. it could also be because she could probably do anything and you’d find it hot.

the kiss turned messier and deeper, your noses were bumping and smushing against each other and you were pretty sure some of her hair was caught in the kiss at one point but neither of you realized nor cared.

all you could think of, all you could feel, all you could smell, all you could hear was tashi. she was everything and everywhere. it was like anything outside of this moment suddenly didn't exist anymore.

until she pulled back. without even realizing it, your lips chased after hers for one last kiss before allowing it to end. it was only then that you noticed how out of breath you truly were. you inhaled shakily. her hand rested on your neck, rubbing gentle circles with her fingers. you couldn't meet her gaze without giggling.

but at least you weren't alone, as she couldn't stop grinning either. you leaned your forehead against her shoulder, tilting your head slightly so you could look up at her.

your entire body felt like it was radiating warmth, but it felt nice. you let out another bashful chuckle, “is the first date too early to say that i really like you?”

tashi’s heart jumped at your words. ha, like? she couldnt remember the last time she had heard someone say they ‘really liked’ her. maybe college? but after a near decade of a marriage that fizzled out as pathetically as a candle in the rain, she found herself excited at the prospect. she found herself excited in general actually, which had almost become a foreign feeling to her these past few years.

all the heart-pounding, late-night calls, first kisses, she hadn't realized until this moment how much she had truly yearned for this feeling again. the feeling of something fresh, of a beginning, of something exciting, of you.

you made her feel a sudden spark of connection to a part of herself she had thought died back on the court at stanford along with her career.

you made her feel like tashi duncan. and after 8 years of being tashi donaldson, she fucking craved that.

“i dont think there's a rule for that.” as she looked down at you, her smile was still as present as ever. “but i really like you too.”

by the time you left her apartment complex it was already midnight. you two had spent the time mostly talking, making out some more, finally checking the time, being walked out by her, getting distracted and making out some more in her entryway, and then actually leaving with two new lovebites on your neck.

the doorman from earlier gave you a knowing look as you stumbled out of the elevator which you did not appreciate. tashi paid for some fancy uber to drive you home again and as soon as you got home you let yourself collapse onto your bed basking in the lingering buzz of tashi's touch spreading through each and every cell in your body. you squeaked and giggled into your pillow.

“so. did it happen?” you sat up in surprise as your roommate suddenly appeared in your doorway. it was like she faded into rooms sometimes with how quiet she was. “i told you to knock.” you complained. “also did what happen?” you raised a brow.

“did you..” she made a crude gesture with her hand. “man, get out!” you threw a plushie at her as she quickly retreated back into the living room, snickering to herself. 

well, back at my house

i got a california king

okay, maybe it's a twin bed

and some roommates, don't worry we're cool!

“no, she’s out for the night.” you mumbled in answer tashi’s question about your roommates whereabouts while continuing to jiggle your keys as you struggled with unlocking the door.

you’d called your landlord 6 times already on this piece of shit lock and how it was near impossible to open without brute force, he promised to fix it…take a wild guess if he ever did.

so now said lock was embarrassing you in front of your girlfriend (well, you had started calling her that in your head but were too cowardly to actually ask) because it was kind of making it look like you had lied about having an apartment and were now trying to break into some other persons place.

“this stupid thing never works..” you grumble. you shot her an apologetic look, “sorry, the locks kinda finicky.”

with one more brutal tug (one that really hurt your hand a lot but you were going to pretend like it didn't because for some reason you still wanted to impress her) the lock finally clicked and the door opened. you sighed in relief.

“its a pretty small place.” you said as you let her into your apartment and shut the door behind her. you knew she wouldn't care and she had assured you that so many times. plus you couldnt meet up at her place like you had the last few months because apparently her ex-husband was there currently for whatever reason.

you werent really keen on meeting him, nor was tashi it seems. as you walked down the narrow hallway, leading her to your room you suddenly shrieked and jumped back into tashi’s chest in shock. she instinctively caught you and put her arms around you which would have made your heart flutter under normal circumstances but right now your heart was preoccupied trying to regain its normal rhythm.

“what the hell!” you groaned, holding your chest recovering from the jumpscare of your roommate sitting on the couch. she looked up. “oh, whats up.” she nodded to you and then nodded to tashi, “hey, im aubrey.”

before tashi could greet her back you interrupted, “aubrey! what the hell are you doing home, you said you’d be out for the night!” you said in a tone mixed between anger and whining. “felix got food poisoning.” she shrugged, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. “what? is he okay?” your eyes furrowed in concern. “yeah, he’s cool. he got dared to eat gas station sushi.” “what? that's-” you looked back at tashi realizing that this conversation made your friends seem a little childish.

“whatever just…do you have to be here right now?” you huffed. “chill, im not gonna cockblock you.” usually you loved your roommate but right now you wanted to strangle her.

“oh-kay.” you gave up, covered your face in embarrassment and quickly dragged tashi to your room before aubrey could make things even worse with her crudeness and her propensity for embarrassing you in front of guests.

you slammed the door shut with your foot. “sorry, that's..uh my roommate..she’s…yeah.” tashi chuckled, rubbing her thumb over your wrist in the way that always soothed you. “relax, okay? i'm not gonna start clutching my pearls.”

you exhaled through your noise and nodded, “right, yeah, i was just caught off guard. i wanted us to be alone.” you sighed, leaning your head on her shoulder.

she was a bit taller than you, especially in heels, which you really liked. “we are alone.” she pressed a kiss to you earlobe. “you know what i mean!” you groaned.

once again she seemed amused by your tendency for dramatics when in distress. “also the walls are thin.” you pouted. “well, we don't always have to-” “yeah but i wanted to!” she looked over her shoulder at your bed, “you have a twin bed” she snorted.

“so? we could've made it work.”

“i'm sorry baby but as soon as i left college i vowed to never have sex in a twin bed again” she laughed lowly.

“youre mean.” you whined into the crook of her neck. “mhm..” she gave your back a small pat, “now c'mon, you promised a room tour remember?”

you raised your head to give her a look, reaching out your arm to gesture at the small space. “what's there to give a tour of? this thing is a shoebox.”

“don't be like that. cmonnn~” she nudged you with her elbow. ugh, you were nothing if not weak for her. “fine.” you cleared your throat to get into your best ‘real estate agent voice’.

“over here is the “walk-in closet”-” you made air quotes with your fingers. “-but you can really only stand in it. also the door hinge is broken so the door doesn't close.” you demonstrated by pushing the door which wouldn't budge. “this-” you pointed to the woven hamper-like chest that stood at the foot of your bed, “is where i keep like..everything i couldn't fit anywhere else. not interesting.” you shrug.

“i dont know, sounds interesting to me..” you looked back at tashi, she was leaning against your creaky wooden desk and was looking at you in that way that always made your legs shaky.

she looked at you like you were the most interesting, entertaining thing in the world, with her gaze warm and her lips quirked up in a soft smile.

“what?” you said as you narrowed your eyes at her, “stop that.” you forced yourself to look away from her.

“stop what?” she leaned her torso forward with a teasing smirk.

“the look.”

“what look?”

“tashi.” you stepped in between her legs and glared. her slightly crooked front tooth showed as she grinned, “what i cant look at my girlfriend?”

FULL STOP. full. stop. did she just call you her girlfriend? oh, how the heavens have smiled upon you this day, truly. from the woman herself, you were officially tashi duncan's fucking GIRLFRIEND.

the shock must've been extremely visible on your face because she tilted her head in confusion a little, “what?” you snap out of the celebration you had been holding in your brain and stumble over yourself a little, “huh? no, nothing-”

your voices overlap as tashi says, “are we not?-” “no, we are!” “because i thought-” “no, no, we are, we are!”

no way in hell you were gonna let tashi think you didnt want to be her girlfriend, actually no fucking way!

there's a short moment of silence. “we just never talked about it. so i wasn't sure. but i really want it. like want you. like i really want to be your girlfriend,” you couldn't get the words out fast enough.

tashi chuckled softly as she shook her head, “i thought we made it official on the fifth date?” you giggled in surprise, “what? i would've remembered that!” “we were talking about exes-” “mhm..” “and then you asked if i felt ready for a new relationship already and i said yes.”

you blinked, “okay but thats not making it official.” she huffed out a small laugh, “what did you need me to spell it out?” “...yes?” she pulled you in closer by your waist, “mh, fine, then..” she paused for dramatic effect, “...will you be my girlfriend?”

you snickered, “do you feel very high-school right now?” she let out a dry laugh, “i feel super high-school but i'm willing to do that for you.”

you wrapped your arms around her neck, “and i'm very appreciative. i would love to be your girlfriend.” you smiled into the kiss. yeah, you’d also agree to marry her this very second if she asked but obviously you weren't gonna tell her that. that seemed more like a tenth date conversation.

after almost convincing tashi to break her rule about having sex in a twin bed but ultimately having your roommate ruin the mood by blasting some horror movie in the living room you decided to just put a movie on yourself.

the bed was a little cramped but eventually you managed to find a comfy position with half of your body draped over her chest, your head resting on her shoulder and her head leaning against yours.

the laptop rested on your thighs as you scrolled through netflix trying to find anything interesting to watch with her. you felt her body shift a little bit when you hovered over a specific movie.

you chuckled looking up at her, “twilight?” “oh, i mean, if you want.” she shrugged trying to feign nonchalance. “do you want?” you raised your brows teasingly.

"i don't care.”

“mhhh..i think you do.” you sat up with a shiteating grin.

“i think somebody had a twilight phase…”

she snorted and glanced to the side, knowing she had been caught red-handed. “i was like 20 when the movie came out, thats silly.”

“mhm. did you read the book?”

silence.

“knew it. caught you!  i caught you. give it up.” you nudged her shoulder. she rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her amusement, “yeah, fine, i had a twilight phase, whatever.”

you bounced up and down a little in excitement, pretty much beaming. you didn't know why it pleased you so much. maybe it was the fact that you felt this bonded you both in some way. it wasn't only because you too, had a twilight phase, no, it was more the fact that it hinted at something you had been secretly suspecting.

that natasha “tashi” duncan was in fact a massive dork. just like you. although she was admittedly far better at hiding it. 

you certainly had this image when you first met her that tashi was akin to a statue. like you could look at her from every angle but you would not be able to find even the smallest crack in the marble. not the slightest hair out of place. not a single imperfection to be found. but the more you got to know her, the more the marble chipped away. but instead of leaving an empty hole behind, it revealed something better. it revealed her. with every imperfection she had, with every bad thing she’s ever done, with every odd habit or quirk, with everything that made her real.

“we’re watching twilight then.” you said with finality and laid back down next to her. “we really don't have to.” “oh, yes, we really do.” 

one more fun-fact you learned about her that night was that she was an extremely heavy sleeper. like. like it was crazy.

she had fallen asleep against you about halfway through the movie which you thought was extremely cute and you took like 20 pictures all while trying not to move so as to not wake her.

which apparently was not necessary at all because when you accidentally sneezed so hard it shook the mattress you instantly looked at her with worry expecting her to wake up. but no. nothing. not even an eye twitch. so. obviously. you needed to conduct an experiment.

you paused the movie and untangled yourself from her embrace. you lightly shook her shoulder. “tashi…tashiiii..” you mumbled. once again nothing.

“tashi!” nope.

and..well, youre not proud of how you got here but after a row of attempts to wake her you were standing in front of your bed holding two pots in either hand about to bang them together.

but before that could happen tashi slowly stirred and opened her eyes. she furrowed her brows at the sight that greeted her “what the hell are you doing?” you hid the pots behind your back as if she hadn't already seen them.

“nothing.”

“were you trying to wake me. by banging pots together?” she sounded genuinely offended by how stupid that idea was.

“no?”

silence.

“you're a really heavy sleeper.”

“if you wanted to wake me you could've just set an alarm.”

“you'll wake up from alarm but not from someone shaking you?”

“you were shaking me?”

“no?” … “yes, okay, i'm sorry, i love you. it was done out of at least 50 percent concern i promise.”

she groaned and placed her hands over her face. you placed the pots on the ground and crawled back in bed with her.

“don't be mad?” you pouted, peppering kisses over her neck until she broke with a small laugh, “okay, okay, stop, i forgive you.”

she gently pushed you off. you sat up.

“i promise to never do it again. i was just..very surprised how heavy of a sleeper you are.” you began playing with her fingers. “you seem really tired, though. do you wanna sleep over?” you mumbled softly.

she took a moment to think about her schedule for tomorrow. “if you promise to not wake me with anything but an alarm clock.” “pinky promise.” you linked your pinkies and she smiled. 

you felt your heart ache for domesticity as you felt tashi softly breathing next to you, her warm body pressed up against every part of you due to the lack of space in your bed. she was wearing your pyjamas and her skin smelled faintly of your lotion. 

and weirdly enough, in the morning, tashi was the one to wake you up.

baby, why don't you come over?

red wine supernova

“are you sure you're ready?” tashi asked for the ten thousandth time as she clipped in her cartier earrings. “yes! what can i do to convince you that i am?” you pouted her, wrapping your finger around her wrist and swaying her arm gently.

“it's not that I'm not convinced, it's just that i'm worried about how cool you’re being.” she glanced at you from her peripheral. “are you saying i'm not normally cool? you really know how to hurt a girls feelings.” you dramatically placed the back of your hand against your forehead.

“hey, im being serious.” she suddenly said.

you dropped your hand. “i know, sorry. i promise i'm ready, and plus i don't think people will care that much anyway..right? i mean it's been like almost a year and a half since the divorce.”

you brushed some hair out of her face. it was longer now than it was when you first met her and darker too ever since she decided to let her natural brunette roots grow out.

“yes, but still, for whatever reason people were very invested in that whole thing and i don't want you to get dragged into a repeat.“ genuine concern shimmered in her cinnamon colored eyes.

“i want people to know about us. even if it'll lead to weird gossip articles. i don't care about that. i've met art, i've met lily, and their opinions mattered far more than the publics.” you tried to reassure her gently, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“i know, but-”

“we don't have to if you're not ready.” you interrupt her. you have been with tashi for almost a year now. 10 months, 2 weeks and 5 days. not that you were counting.

but because of that, you and her have decided to finally make your relationship public. not with an announcement or anything obviously, you would just be accompanying her to a fundraiser thrown by the donaldson foundation.

but this was still a big deal because ever since the challenger in new rochelle, journalists have been far too invested in tashi’s personal affairs, and that only worsened with the divorce.

you hugged her from behind and gently kissed up her neck until you felt the tension in her shoulders dissolve.

“but i feel like keeping it secret is stressing you out.” you glanced at her furrowed brow through the mirror.

“it is. i don't want it to be out of my control. i mean, i don't want people to be in my business at all but if they are going to be anyway i at least want to be in control of the story.” she said firmly, you hummed empathetically. “so, then..let’s go?”

she nodded, “yeah, lets go.” 

you nervously wrung your hands together the closer the car got to the venue were the fundraiser was held. tashi gave you a questioning look.

“now that you're not freaking out, i think it transferred to me," you chuckle shakily.

“you want to go back home?”

“no, no, its not that bad. just jitters.” you quickly shook your head. “are you sure?”

“i’m sure!”

“okay, well, tell me if that changes, okay?”

oh, and in that moment you were once again reminded of how much she cared for you that you felt the space you had carved out in your heart for her glow.

you smiled and pressed a short kiss to her lips, “yes, promise.”

the venue was extremely fancy that even though tashi had bought a dress for you just for this event you still felt underdressed.

it wasn't very flashy or anything but you don't think you've ever been in a room with this many rich people at once and that alone sent an itch of discomfort through your skin.

you felt a little bit like everyone could tell you didn't belong here and usually you wouldn't care because its true. this was not your scene.

but you cared now, because this was tashi’s  life. these kinds of events were a part of her in some way. and you wanted to be able to fit into that part of her. but now that you were here…what if you couldn't? what if you just couldn't do it? what if she realized you weren't fit for her life and she found someone that was? what if-

you felt tashi’s warm hand rest on your waist with a familiar pressure and your doubts were quickly muffled. you were sure they would come back full-force later, leading to you spending hours tossing and turning in bed before giving up at around 2 am and just binging your comfort shows all night long.

but right now, they were quiet, and you had tashi to thank for that.

“well, that was..” you tried to look for something nice to say. “boring.” tashi finished your sentence. “oh my god, yes! so boring!” you groaned, feeling instant relief that you didn't have to put up a front of genuinely enjoying the event.

tashi chuckled, pulling you in closer by your hip as you walked back out to the car. “i was expecting more drama.” you hummed. “at a fundraiser for new courts?” she raised a brow with the corners of her lips quirked up.

“no, well, yes, i mean because of us.”

“oh, well, that'll come. just not tonight. they would never say shit like that to my face.”

tashi had introduced you as her partner if the question came up, which you had thought would have been more exciting for you than it turned out to be.

yes, you were happy people would now know you as 'tashi duncan’s girlfriend'. thrilled, honestly, you would have shouted it from the rooftops after your first date if you could've.

but you realized that to the tennis world..that's really all you wanted to be. you didn't want people to know you, or your name, or get to know you through small-talk at boring galas and events.

because truthfully, none of this was you. you didn't know enough about tennis or the donaldson foundation to hold a proper conversation with any of these people.

and unlike earlier, you were content with that realization now because of what tashi had said to you earlier in the evening, when you managed to get away from the constant barrage of small talk and questions to step outside for just a moment.��

you sighed in relief as the cool night air filled your lungs, replacing the stuffy polished floor air from the venue. “you're too worried about impressing those people.” tashi started.

you turned your head towards her. “i want to leave a good impression.” you defend. you didn't want to embarrass her.

“i know. but it's..hard. watching you force yourself like that.” yikes. that one felt like a swift kick in the stomach.

you had never been very good at keeping a poker face so she quickly followed up, “i just meant…i don't want you to do that. you don't need to do that.” you absent-mindedly fiddled with your necklace, “what do you mean?” 

“all my relationships this far have been connected to tennis. and i thought that was good..or at least made sense. tennis has been the focal point of my life since i was 5 so, of course, it would find its place in my relationships too.” she leaned her hands against the railing,

“but it was like this..all-consuming thing. my identity was tied to not only tennis but also my relationships that had been forged through it.” she paused trying to think of how to best articulate herself.

“i think i lost a part of myself through that.” she murmured. “and i'm just about finding it again, and you have been so helpful in that, you dont even know.”

she looked at you with a weight of sincerity you felt sink into your heart.

“so i don't want you to change, or us to change. i don't need you to be art. i don't need you to be anyone you're not.” you were honestly speechless and you feared that you would burst into tears right now if you tried to muster up a response.

so you just quietly nodded (eyes getting misty despite your best efforts), took her hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist before pulling her into a gentle embrace. 

you knew who you wanted to be to the public, and you knew who you wanted to be to her colleagues. you just wanted to be her pretty (perhaps controversially young?) girlfriend who really had only the most basic understanding of tennis and nothing else.

her thumb rubbed gently over the tennis bracelet that adorned your wrist which snapped you out of your thoughts.

she had given it to you as a present for your 6 month anniversary and you had immediately burst into tears babbling about how much you loved it and her and the universe for bringing you two together. (you were a little drunk)

god, what she wouldn't do to have a video of that night. by her expression you could already tell she was preparing to tease you about it.

“hey, do you remember-”

you let out an exasperated sigh, “yes, i do. stop reminding me.”

you could hear her snicker a little bit and you glared, “stop laughing.”

“i’m not!” she lied while actively laughing. unfortunately her laughter was pretty infectious so you soon joined with your own cacophony of giggles. 

your joined duet of laughter could be heard by guests leaving the fundraiser as it echoed through the quiet parking lot.

fall right into me.

“hey, look, i'm your rebound.” you grinned happily as you held up a tabloid that had a picture that was taken by some pap last week of you and tashi after your date with the headline:

“TASHI DUNCAN’S ON A REBOUND?”

tashi just rolled her eyes with an amused smile. “good for you, baby.” she gave you a small pat on the ass. “i know, i'm really moving up in the world.” you joked as you threw the magazine in the shopping cart. she gave you a look. “what? i wanna see what it says!” 

[kyber-kisses]

Here In The Dark

Captain Rex x Jedi!Reader

Summary: while on a scouting mission the Reader and Rex are forced to find shelter when an unexpected blizzard hits.

Warnings: minor injuries, mutual pining😈, Rex being his socially awkward self-

A/N: this is purely self indulgent and it’s probably crap but enjoy!

“Yep it’s decided. I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill Anakin.”

“Little dramatic dont you think?”

Shifting in the knee deep snow, you turned to give Rex and icy stare that rivaled the weather around you. “No. All I think is that when we make it back to base camp I’m gonna force throw him into the nearest sun.”

It was supposed to be a simple scouting mission across the northern ridge line. Blue skies and warm weather the whole time. Nothing to worry about.

At least that’s what Anakin had told you.

And what a fool you were to think he was right.

Because now the sun had long since set and a horrific blizzard was bearing down and you and the captain as the both of you struggled through the almost waist deep snow. Your comma had long since lost contact with base camp now leaving you and Rex completely alone on the darkened mountain side as sheets of heavy snow slammed into you with even stronger winds.

The only positive was that at least you were with Rex. If you were with anyone else you probably would have buried them in the snow somewhere. For example: Anakin.

If Anakin were here you would have buried him the the powder a good few miles back.

“You know stomping around all bitterly isn’t gonna help the situation.” Rexs voice cut through the wind slightly as he trudged besides you.

“Says the one with the helmet on that protects his face from the wind and the cold.” You grumbled, feeling snowflakes stick to your eyelashes as you blinked. “Can you hand me your nightscope?”

“Sure thing.” Once the device had been procured to halted in your tracks, ignoring the way the wind and snow whipped your hair around your face as you looked through the night vision scope.

You had hoped for better quality but with the heavy falling snow and winds the screen was a mess of fuzz for the most part. You were still practically stumbling around blind.

“Let me have a try.” Extending his hand once more, you dropped the scope back into Rexs possession watching through squinted eyes as he surveyed the land with the scope.

“Anything?”

“Two clicks to the east.” The captain spoke, pointing his finger into the dark before passing the scope back to you.

It wasn’t much but it was something. Through the fuzzy landscape you could just barely make out a dark blotch against the side of the ridge. “Cave maybe?”

“Here’s to hoping. We don’t really have any other options.” Rex shrugged, clipping the scope back onto his belt before moving forward with you in tow.

You and Rex stuck as close to eachother as you could in fear of losing one another in the white-out conditions. Cold bit at every inch of your body wether it was exposed or not, it seeped into the cradles of your boots and made its way in the fabric of your gloves. No part of you was safe.

“Commander, here.” At the sound of Rexs out of breath voice you picked your eyes up from where they had been focusing on the ground, only to find he had stopped, extending his hand to help you up the steeper incline. You took it graciously, allowing him to keep the two of you tethered the remainder of the way.

The two of you were practically in the cave before you knew you had even reached it. One moment you were at the mouth and the next you were sliding through it. The cave led ever so slightly downward a few feet before flattening out completely, Rex assisting you down as the two of you moved away from the howling winds and ice pellets that battered the mountain side.

Before you could even reach for your own flashlight, Rex was clicking his on, a bright beam of cold white light cutting through the darkness as he scanned the inside of the cave, his hand hovering over his blaster.

“No one’s here Rex. I can feel it.”

All you could feel in the force was you and Rex, along with the dull vibrations of the rock and dirt beneath you. There were no other life forms. As the beam danced across the cave walls you made sure to make note of everything. It was small, the cave ceiling on three or four feet above your head and it’s entire size couldn’t have been bigger than your quarters aboard the Resolute.

Shrugging off the survival pack that had been on your back you dropped it to the floor, fingers still too cold to do anything that mattered.

“I’ll get a fire going.” Digging into the bag himself, the captain pulled out a cinder kit.

“I can help.”

Kneeling down on the cave floor next to Rex, you helped set up the small device. Normally all it would take was one small click of the button but of course said button was broken.

“You’re lucky you got stuck out here with a Jedi with my abilities.” Musing lightly you cupped your hands and brought them to your lips, warming them up in whatever way you could before rubbing them together. When you finally got a small spark you let out a sigh of relief before sharply snapping your fingers together to produce a small flame. “Aha still got it!”

“When we’re you gonna tell me you could do that?” Besides you, Rex watched the tiny flame dance across the top of your finger tip in wonder.

Shrugging slightly, you brought the flame down to the cinder box and a moment later a much larger flame leapt forth, brightening the cavern exponentially. “Right now.”

“Can all Jedi do that?”

“No unfortunately. It’s a skill only a handful of us possess.”

“Well nice work Commander.”

A small smile tugged on your lips. “Thank you.”

If someone had told you this morning that you would be spending the night holed up in a cavern on the side of some mountain int he middle of a blizzard with Rex you would have laughed. . . Yet here you were.

And honestly there were worse places you could be.

“You doing alright commander?” Standing up from where he had been knelt on the floor, Rex wiped off his gloves before giving you a concerned look.

“I’m fine all things considered. You?”

“Never better.”

As the heat of the fire filled the cavern you peeled off your boots, your socks following suit as you laid them out next to the dancing flame. The fire would do l it take to help you if you were sitting around in soaking wet clothes.

And at that thought you began peeling of the layers of your Jedi robes, oblivious to the fact that Rex had flushed a deep red before averting his gaze from you. When you were done all the remained on your body was the solid black undergarment you wore. It was once peace and didn’t have any sleeves but it went down to your mid thighs in a way that made it look sort of like a unitard. It was the only dry piece of clothing you had left.

You were half way through pulling out both of the therma-blankets from the pack when you realized Rexs back was turned to you, his hand awkwardly on his hip as he face the mouth of the cave.

“Rex? Are you alright?”

His posture straightened ever so slightly at his name. “Of course commander! Just wanted- just wanted to give you some privacy that’s all.”

His words hit you suddenly as you looked down at your much more exposed body, now understanding. “Oh.”

You hadn’t even thought about how Rex might react to that. You had been friends with him for so long you didn’t even think twice.

Wrapping one of the reflective therma blankets around your shoulders, you padded across the floor of the cave, reaching out to gently grab his shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about that. I don’t mind. Just be glad I’m not walking around full on nude.” You joked lightly, once more unaware of the deepening red creeping up Rex’s face.

When he didn’t say anything you felt a slight frown slip across your features. He was acting weird. Very weird.

“You should get out of that armor. This type wasn’t meant for the cold climates such as this.” You waved your hands, gesturing to the weather beyond the mouth of the cave. “Add that to the list of reasons on why I’m gonna kill Anakin when we get back. He should of had us prepare better.”

At that you got a light chuckle out of Rex, the clone captain turning slightly to look over his shoulder at you.

“I’ll be fine commander.”

You sent him a warning stare. “As both your superior and friend I’m telling you if you don’t get out of that armor right now I will start peeling it off you. You need to stay warm and this?” You knocked your hand against the plastoid armor, your teeth chattering slightly as you spoke, giving away the fact that you were still cold. “This isn’t gonna help you.”

At your words the captain let a heavy sigh before raising his hands to undo the clasps of his chest plate which you took gently from him before sitting it against the wall next to the pack. You repeated the action several more times until all his armor was stacked neatly to the side.

“See? I bet you’re warmer already?” You mused, looking up at him with a small smile as you gently rested your hand against his chest momentarily.

Beneath your touch Rex shivered, the feeling foreign to him enough to elicit a physical response. If you had felt it you didn’t say anything.

In truth, you had Rex wrapped around your finger. (Not that you knew). From the moment you joined the 501st as its other Jedi- commander you had Rexs complete loyalty and respect. You came walking on the bridge with your kinda smile and even kinder eyes and Rex swore he melted.

And now here he was in some cave with a half naked you.

Force, he had a way of always ending up in weird and awkward situations.

“You hungry? I know there’s like a weeks worth of ration bars int he front ouch of the pack?”

“I’m alright commander, but thank you.” Moving past you, Rex lowered himself to the ground in front of the fire, leaning back against the cave wall behind him with a heavy sigh.

Beneath his gloves he squeezed his fingers into a fist, repeating the action several times before it caught your attention.

“Your hands are cold aren’t they?”

“Nothing I can’t deal with commander. I’ve been through worse.”

At his words you rolled your eyes before sitting down in front of him and tucking your knees to your chest. “Why must you clones all be so stubborn?”

“I am not stubb—“

Rexs words felt flat as he suddenly felt your hands gently taking his. Turning his head he watched once more with a sudden blush on his cheeks as you carefully removed his gloves and tossed them to the floor.

Your fingers danced over the calloused skin of his palms as if memorizing every bump and scar before you cupped his hands and brought them to your lips before breathing a gentle plume of hot air into them. Curious brown eyes watched you as you placed a gentle kiss to his finger tips before shifting to grip his hands fully in your own.

“And it’s Y/N by the way.”

Rexs brain seemed to have short circuited because he had no clue as to what you were talking about. “. . . What?”

“Back on base it’s Commander this and Commander that. Here? I’m just Y/N. No need for the formalities. I call you Rex don’t I?”

“I mean, yeah I guess?”

You nodded slowly, dropping Rex’s hands as you moved to adjust the blanket around your shoulders when a shiver ran through your body.

“Still cold?”

“A bit. These therma- blankets only do so much.” You explained, look down at the reflective material that you currently had wrapped around you.

“ I can agree with you on that.” Rex sent you a small grin as he paused. “We should stay close together though. It will help contain our body heat.”

It took everything in the poor captain to not stumble over his words at the thought of staying so close to each other.

“Good call.” You nodded before standing back up and walking across the cave floor to grab the other therma-blanket at the two compact bed rolls that you had also carried with you.

The only problem was you couldn’t get the damn packaging opening. Though your own hands had warmed exponentially your fingers were still shaky as you tried to break to wrapping on the sleeping pads. After a moment you let out a string of curses.

“Kriffing hell, who in the force packed these damn th-“

“Here, let me try.” An arm suddenly reached over your shoulder, taking the package from your hands.

Letting out a defeated sigh you nodded as you turned. “Thank you, Re-“

If there were any other words you were supposed to say they no longer existed as you came face to face with Rex’s bare chest. The clone pausing in his action when he saw you had turned, almost instantly the red returned to his cheeks.

“My Uh- my shirt was still wet. Thought it would be best to let it dry with everything else—“ he stuttered slightly, apparently oblivious to the pink that had now graced your cheeks as well.

Another shiver went up your body along with a small choked sound departing your lips.

At that Rex frowned, suddenly kneeling down to grab the other therma-blanket and wrap it snuggly around you. “Still cold?”

Oh. Oh your sweet, awkward, oblivious captain thought the shiver was from you being cold. Kriff, he was gonna be the end of you.

You went sure if it was how tired you were or whatever was happening in front of you but out of nowhere your knees buckled and you went down. . . Or you would have if Rex hadn’t reached out and caught you, warm study arms securing you safely to his chest as he lowered you softly to the ground.

“Oops.”

“Comman- Y/N? Are you alright?”

“Just a little case of jelly legs.” You laughed awkwardly, Rex looking at you with a concerned gaze.

“Stay here.”

Humming a response you settled onto your butt ont he floor of the cave, watching as Rex peeled the sleeping pads out of their packaging, the pads instantly beginning to inflate.

You didn’t even get a chance to move once they were full before Rex was suddenly picking you up yet again and settling you down on one and securely tucking the therma-blankets around you.

“That better?”

You hummed a response, watching Rex with a new type of wonder as you did.

“Get some sleep. I’ll take watch tonight and we can head out at first light once the storm has moved passed.” He explained, standing up to move away.

You could see goosebumps prickling his skin as he moved away and before he could get any further you had gotten up from your sleeping pad and quickly gone after him. He had barely turned around before you were wrapping him in a hug, the warmth of his skin flush against your own as you did.

At this point Rex had lost track of the amount of times you had gotten him to blush, the sudden contact of you against his body making his goosebumps more apparent.

“You need to stay warm too.” You spoke softly, pulling off one of the blankets as you did before moving to wrap it snugly around his broad shoulders. Once that was done you grabbed his hand once more and tugged him back across the cavern, onto pausing once to nudge the two sleeping pads together with your foot.

“What are you-“

Collapsing onto the first one, you parted at the vacant spot next to you. “C’mon. Don’t worry about keeping watch tonight. Nothings out here. . . Except us.”

Rex gave a concerned glance towards the mouth of the cave. He didn’t like the idea of no one standing guard. . . But at the same time he was cold and tired and he wanted nothing more than to fall onto that sleeping mat next to you.

The captain let out a sigh of defeat as he did just that, a sort of shy smile crossing his lips as he did. With his back resting against the smooth stone of the cave wall, he settled onto the sleeping mat, inhaling deeply when you moved closer to him to the point in which the skin of your arms were flush against eachother.

“You’re like a walking furnace you know that?” Letting out a relaxed sigh, you rested your head against Rex’s shoulder, curling up closer to him as you did.

“Heh, I don’t really feel like it.”

Everything in Rexs body wanted to shiver at the contact of your skin against his, but he belt fast. Instead trying to focus his attention on the firelight dancing across the caves walls.

There was a few good minutes of long silence which allowed Rex to believe you had fallen asleep, but after another moment you spoke up.

“Rex?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you a weird question?”

“You ask me weird questions all the time.”

You let out a tired laugh, picking up your head to look at him. “Have you ever been kissed before?”

At that Rex fell silent, glancing awkwardly around the room. “No offense but that not what I was expecting.”

Sitting up properly you fiddled with your fingers. You could face down Sith Lords and swarms of droids and remain unfazed. . . But this? This was the thing that was making you awkward. Funny how the universe worked.

“I just, I really wanna kiss you l. I know we’ve been friends for years but how could I not get feelings for you because your so kind and patient and caring and loyal and I just- you’re brilliant in every way imaginable and here we are in this cave in the middle of nowhere and I don’t know if I’ll get a chance lie or his again and I think maybe you feel the same about me and I-“ you paused, look over at the bewildered look on Rexs face. “I’m rambling aren’t I?”

“I- Uh. . . Yeah maybe a little-“Rex spoke slowly, clearly showing he was trying to wrap his head around everything that had just come out of your mouth.

“See, and now I’ve made everything awkward!” You wailed, your face falling into your hands as you did.

“No! No-“ sitting up besides you, the captain reached towards you, pulling your hands away from your face before awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “I just- I’ve never really kissed anyone. I don’t want to do it wrong or anything-“

This time both of your were blushing, red cheeks inches from each-other as you looked at Rex with wide eyes.

“That doesn’t matter to me. You’re just so brilliant and amazing and the force feels warmer when I’m around you and-“

Neither of you had realized how you had both slowly begun navigating towards each-other, your nose Alamo touching as you looked at each-other, eyes wide and curious.

“Y/N.” Rexs voice was soft. Softer than you had ever heard it, but it captured you all the same.

You didn’t know how he did it, but Rex had reached into a place deep inside you and brought something forth you had yet to think about. A realization in a way.

“I have so many names now that I think about it.” You whispered, almost as if he had put you in a trance. “Padawan, Knight, commander Y/L/N, Y/N— but here?” You voice grew quieter. “Here in the dark, with you? I have no name. I am just me. Entirely me.”

Both set of eyes flickered downwards and you and Rex closed the gap between you as equals. It was a shy kiss but when Rex slowly deepened it you couldn’t help the small gasp of surprise that escaped you before you melted further into him. His hands were warm now and they cradled your face so delicately and beneath your palm his chest radiated heat. He was like being wrapped in pure sunlight.

He pulled back slowly after a moment, looking downward somewhat shyly. “Was that ok?”

“Everything you do is always more than ok-“ it was as if you had been put into a dazed state by his lips, your body settling against his as you sunk lower onto your mat, your head against Rex’s chest. Beneath your ear his heartbeat thumped rhythmically and for the first time that night you both felt warm.

Maybe you wouldn’t kill Anakin when you got back to base.

[hatelangdon]

Omg just read your fav genre is whump and i literally never seen any whump blog for American Horror Story, lol...

As someone who is also obsessed with AHS and whump myself, can i possibly request a whump story for Kit Walker inside Briarcliff pls? That poor babe just suffered so much in there, but i gotta say i just love the dramatics 🤭

Tysm, I'd really appreciate that!

Fragile

Kit Walker x Fem!reader ✩ 1.2K words

Summary: Dr Arden was never a merciful man, Kit soon became an interest of his. Someone needs to extend him some kindness and nurse him back to health.

Angst, Hurt-comfort, semi-fluff

**Not proofread and probably an insane amount of commas and other errors but it'll be aight.

Warnings: (🚨 Talks about infected wounds, fever, bruising, medical abuse, Mental abuse, physical abuse, asylums, bleeding, and time period inaccuracies probably 🚨)

(A/n: Kitson, my angel, my beloved. I hate hurting him but I love the angst. Thanks for the request I didn't know what kind of whump you were interested in so I tried to combine all aspects 🤭 I was gonna k!ll him but I was feeling nice)

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆��✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆

You and Kit weren't too different from each other, both convicted on crimes you did not commit.

Female hysteria. That's what they call it when a woman was too smart, so a man locks her up to keep her quiet.

This was a cruelty that was extended to you by your own husband.

Kit was thrown in on convictions of murder, bloody face is what they called him. People wanted someone to pin a string of murders on, it was a convincing smear campaign that even you believed at first.

 But as you got to know kit as a person, as you got to know his heart, you realized he could never be capable of inflicting so much pain, especially on a woman. His character proved his innocence.

A friendship blossomed quickly between the two of you, and a delicate love that remained unspoken. It communicated itself through stolen glances and kind words

It was something just for you two to understand.

Kit was always a gentle and kind man. He always stood up for what he believed was right which is what often got him in trouble, he was too headstrong.

It had been three days since the last time you saw him, he had been dragged away by the guards for “inciting a fight” after some pervert had tried to grope one of the newer patients without her consent, you were hoping that he had just been bent over sister Jude’s knee and caned a few times, although she was harsh she sometimes had an understanding side to her

but alas, Kit hadn't returned.

That was until today, when kit was dropped off in the community room completely unraveled from his usual charming self. His eyes were glassy and seemed to stare into a void, and his body was scuffed, scraped, and bruised all over.

“Maybe that fried some sense into you walker” The guard chuckled as he dropped kit’s limp body onto the floor right in front of the couch where you sat.

You felt your throat tighten as the tears welled up in your eyes. You kneeled down to comfort him.

Immediately you pushed his hair back, your hands gentle and forgiving against his damaged skin, you could see where the metal from the shock therapy had burned him, he must've been under it for a while. His cheeks were flushed and feverish, his breaths shallow, you could tell it was hard for him to breathe from the way he winced as his chest rose and fell, the bruises on his back made you wince, the purple wounds spread across the sides like an angel that had its wings clipped.

He leaned into your touch, scanning your face like he was trying to remember who you were, if you were kind or if you would also cause him pain. His eyes were empty and lacked their usual warmth he tried to speak to you, his attempted words becoming sobs when he noticed how you were looking at him. How you pitied him.

"y/n-" he started, his voice hoarse.

“You’re gonna be okay kit, you gotta be okay. Can you walk? I can help you, but I need to get you out of here," You shushed him

He nodded, holding onto your shoulders.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling a wet spot as you pressed your abdomens together.

You looked down...Kit was bleeding, a lot.

",we're going to our special place, okay? I stored some of my things in there"

There was a small storage closet hidden away in the corner that was accessible just down the hall, it was empty except for a couple of desks and chairs from when Briarcliff used to be a school. You and Kit would usually sneak off to smoke together and talk about what you would do when you finally got out of this hellhole.

Since you were technically a non-violent case you weren't searched as thoroughly when you arrived, In school you had received a bit of nursing training, you knew Briarcliff could be rough, you heard the stories and rumours, so you brought a first aid kit in your bags and stored it away the first day you were allowed in the common room.

You two took small unsuspecting steps towards the room making sure that the guards were not looking, as you slipped into the closet, closing the door behind you. 

“Kitson, I'm going to put you down OK?” you warned him

He nodded as you gently lowered him onto the cold ground. He winced feeling the pressure against his bruised back. 

You pulled the first aid kit from its hiding place in one of the desks. It was complete with some gauze pads, rubbing alcohol, a spray disinfectant, rags, medical grade needle and thread, and and a roll of bandages.

 You rolled up his shirt to examine the site of the bleeding, he had been practically cut in half and badly stitched up. The wound was jagged and puffy, it was definitely infected or on its way to being.

"It was Arden," Kit managed to speak up, tears falling from his eyes as he tried to catch his breath "If this takes me, you gotta tell 'em it was Arden." He cried out

"I won't let you die Kit, i'm going to save you," you tried to sound confident, for both of your sakes. You pulled one of the rags out and folded it into a thick square, placing it in between his teeth "This is going to hurt angel, you're gonna want something to bite down on."

He obliged, fully trusting you and biting down.

"Just keep breathing, it'll be over before you know it."

He looked up at you wide eyed as you shook the can of wound wash.

"3....2...1" with that, you sprayed the wound down.

Kit struggled against it, immediately crying out, his face turning bright red as the stinging engulfed his body in what felt like the fires of hell, pure agony.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It's to stop the infection. The hard part is over!" You graced him with a kiss to the forehead, as he sobbed.

You covered it in some gauze, applying slight pressure to soak up the fluids of the wound, before gently wrapping his abdomen in bandages to keep it safe from further harm.

"We'll have to change this out in a couple of days instead of everyday. We don't want to run out" you sighed, removing the rag from kit's teeth.

He was still in massive amounts of pain from all of his injuries, the road to recovery would be difficult.

After laying there for a couple of minutes, while you cupped his face, gently rubbing his tears away with your thumb and cooing to him, he spoke up.

"...Arden says I got two days to recover. Then he's gonna continue his research." He swallowed, his tears falling rapidly.

"That's not going to happen, my love," You pressed his hand to your lips ever so gently "save your strength, the rumours of a tunnel to the outside are true, and I know exactly how we can get through them."

Kit looked into your eyes, a glimmer of hope shining. He even managed a small smile.

"I believe in you doll, I always have. I always will."

[formulaonedirection]

I'm pretty sure that's lando, Tom bale is also at the same place, so you can probably bet Maxy and the boys are also there too. Lando and Dan are wearing matching flowers in their hair 🥺

Also, if you look at the insta story the clip was taken from, which is much clearer, you can see it is them.

One thing about me is I'm here to do NEEDLESS INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALISM so if we take T*m B*le's tag at the very same beach club + this other video I found which is definitely one Friend comma Blake talking to Lando

I think we can about like 95% say that this is definitely Daniel and Lando with flowers in their hair and Lando wearing Enchante.......

[pseudonymphomania]

This is the first time I've made something for my own MC. "Dear Love" refers to my IRL partner, whom I pretend to write to about my adventures in the Devildom.

I play the game as everyone's platonic friend. I am asexual and enjoy Queer Platonic Relationships for myself. I also play matchmaker in my own Devildom universe.

My attributes: average height. Black hair styled with a medium hold matte pomade. Brown eyes. Beauty mark under my nose. Dimple on one side of my face.

Clothing: Prefer formal wear over casual. Suspenders over belts. Monochromatic colours or loud ostentatious patterns, no in-between. Comfy dress shoes in black or brown but open to other colours to match outfits; I'm wearing leather monkstrap shoes in the picture. Metal accents like tie clips are crucial. Got laser eye surgery but sometimes wears fake glasses to feel something on my face. Satchel contains good pens, quality paper, and workstation. Fitbit on my wrist to count every step I take to solve the problems of the day.

Personality: wry and dry humour. Workaholic. Lifelong learner. The Parent Friend. Always happy to help. Frontline tendencies.

Skills: technical writing, sewing and clothing construction, trades and mechanics, hair cutting, musician (piano and guitar), singer and actor (theatre), novelist, artist

Likes: obtaining new skills and making new friends. Justice. Equity.

Dislikes: misunderstandings, situations that could have been handled effectively but weren't. Unclear communication.

Occupation before I got Isekai'd: Director of Operations

Character I relate to the most: Lucifer

Character I would date if I was inclined: Diavolo, because he reminds me of my actual partner.

The reason I ship DiaLuci so hard: I love my partner the most and this is a mirror to that, right down to situations and actual conversations we have had in real life. The narrative potential. Other reasons.

My MC and OM Characters in my Devildom:

Lucifer: would smugly tell me that I've used a comma splice and I'd tell him to "shove a semi-colon in it". He's my bestest friend in the entire Devildom. We go to cafes and bookstores and go shopping for office supplies. I tell him to stop working so hard and he stares at me like "You're the one telling me this? The audacity." I needle him about his crush and he tells me to fuck off but his face is red.

Mammon: my other bestie but in a wildly different way. He brings out the shit-disturber in me. We play billiards together and play for treats. I disapprove of his gambling but am all-in on the shopping. He takes me out to all the best food places. "Try this, Beckett, you'll really love it." Meanwhile it's some sort of Devildom Atrocity, but somehow it's still good.

Levi: my nerd friend. I bring him offerings and leave them outside his door. We play games often with Mammon and I kick their butts at fighting games, but get wrecked when I have to make choices. We stay up hellishly late and I wake up with chocolate on my face. "Lets do this again: ive got the hottest new dating sim to try!" We are both groggy and destroyed and i have to go to work, but I agree to come back tonight.

Asmo: my favourite boy toy. He's stylish as hell and knows what looks good on anybody. Hes my personal stylist. I cut his hair in exchange. Just like with Mammon I go shopping with Asmo, except he knows all the good places for clothing and knows where all the thrift stores are. "It doesnt have to be new and expensive to look good honey!" I agree. I cuddle with Asmo the most because he loves touch.

Satan: my boy thirsts for knowledge and I do too. We skill-trade and fan over cats. Unfortunately I'm very allergic, but I appreciate them from afar and draw cats for him to hang in his book-filled room. "Do you want to come to the cat Cafe with me?" Oh Satan. He's his father's son alright, but he's just as much of a shit disturber as Mammon. He teaches me fun curses to use on people but I'm content with just knowing it.

Beel: when I'm tired Beel carries me back home and talks about the science behind calories and energy retention in relation to demonic body types. He enjoys cooking and I love testing recipes on him, but I have to swat him away from eating it before it's done. We do exercises together and buff up together. "I can almost see your six pack, haha".

Belphie: he's my sleepy boy. He can be irrational sometimes but I put a blanket over his head to shake him out of it and he snuggles closer. I play him songs on piano and guitar and sing him to sleep, but then I also end up quite sleepy. He's like a son to me and I lecture him often. I try to keep him and Satan from screwing with Lucifer too much. I'm a double agent in the anti Lucifer league lol

Diavolo: i enjoy it when he regales me with Devildom laws, traditions and customs. He speaks of how the executive branch and legislative branch operates in the context of his kingdom and I suggest to strengthen certain areas of his constitution to bring his vision of equity and interrealm relations to the forefront. I am also a shit disturber and needle him about his crush. "You are asking beyond your means, Beckett. Forgive me if I don't answer." Hm... yes, of course. Sorry.

Barbatos: I learn how to be the most efficient I can be from someone who is the most efficient. He is skilled in everything and I must learn from the best. I'm his best student and I'm a teachers pet so i love to hear it. He's been and seen everything and he is an excellent linguist. He is poetry personified in the every day. "Don't let Solomon ruin you too much." I won't!

Solomon: I use my knowledge of mechanics and trades and recontextualise it to be an artificier and create magical items. He is also one to bring out the shit disturber in me and I have almost become Thirteen just from the incidentally nonsense stuff I make. "Oh that's an interesting effect. I wonder what will happen if I give this to Barbatos". Solomon, dude. Do you want to get murdered. Is that what you're into.

Simeon: he is my sweetest and chillest boy. My bestie to talk about justice and relationality with. When I'm insecure and feel like people don't like me as much as they do, he reassures me and tells me stories of his own relationships. "There is nothing wrong with stepping back. Once you've regained your sense of self, you'll be able to pursue the path of friendship again and people will be ready to receive you."

Luke: he is like my son. I make sure he doesn't get nightmares because he seems to have a hard time acclimating to his demonic environment. He teaches me how to bake so that I can make some cakes that look like real inanimate objects and eat them in front of people, to their shock.

Mephisto: I am like Lucifer 2.0. He doesn't really like me but I have no hard feelings toward him.

Thirteen: my Bae. She's a delight but I have to make sure her shenanigans don't cause too much damage in the area or accidentally kill me. I would date her after Diavolo if I was inclined to do that.

I hope you enjoyed seeing my experience and interpretation of the game from my point of view. Everyone's MC journey is very personal to them and I do not believe there is a wrong way to enjoy the game. Thank you for reading. :)

[doubleddenden]

I usually don't care about the anime, but considering this is about Ash retiring and new protagonists taking the reigns, I figure I may as well pay attention

So first off

They're doing something specifically for the I Choose You! AU. It's not connected to the usual series because look at Ash's eyes and clothes. The clothes are the same as the movie, but most importantly Ash's eyes aren't huge and orange, which conflicts with the artstyle we usually see.

2

Riko (girl) and Roy (boy). There's a few things to look at here

First off, Rio has a hair clip that looks just like the green thing on Ash's og hat

Second, she has a jewel around her neck that looks like either some sort of Thunder Stone (which would be significant if she's at all related to Ash, and I personally think she looks like Serena? But that's probably an art style thing) or some kind of Terra crystal shard. I think it's most likely the Terra crystal shard given it's cut and the relevance to the current game.

Next, Roy. Pokémon has this thing where they make characters that look alike but have nothing to do with each other sometimes, so I'm probably just seeing things. however comma I see a resemblance to Kiawe with the skin tones, black and red hair, red eyes, and overall black and red outfit motif. Could be related, probably won't be.

Couple extra things

Okay so it'd be simple to say that these two would just be SV protagonists, right?

Well, wrong

First off, Riko has a school uniform that is completely different from Uva or Naranja Academy

Second, look at these babies. Beautiful, right?

Only two of these are in the DATA for SV. Not even the pokedex. This tells me that these two might literally have a huge pick of the litter for their first Pokémon.

Lastly, not only is Rayquaza not in the pokedex in SV, it's not related at all to the games, AND it's shiny, which in the series we've only seen in the Hoopa movie and in Alain's mega Hoenn thing back in gen 6

Why does this matter? Simply put

Ash saw a legendary Pokemon in the FIRST episode of the series that had NOTHING to do with him until maybe gen 2, let alone an actual encounter with it until the I Choose You movie.

I think Shiny Rayquaza will serve a similar role here: a one in a billion encounter to send them on a huge journey. We know there's multiple legendaries of the same kind, but even in the anime, they're still pretty rare, especially shiny pokemon, and double especially SHINY legends.

BUT I think that journey is probably going to be somewhere completely random. Could be like Journeys where it's around the world, could be some place completely different. Could be Kanto, I kinda hope not, but that Is on the table. It could be Paldea and they're freestyling it like Houndour and Typhlosion in Hoenn pre Emerald, but I don't think that's the case given the lack of uniforms. My personal bet is another Journeys type anime.

Anyway, that's all.

[jourmajesty]

A Little Bit of Mystery (Made using AI) from Michael Perry on Vimeo.

Hello, I made this entire music video using AI. The AI programs used are listed below:

D-ID (Creative Reality Studio) studio.d-id.com I used this to make the female singer. I chose the character and uploaded the audio vocal track for sync.

Imagine.art imagine.art I used this program to make the still pictures using phrases separated by commas. Ex: Realistic, master full body shot, female in late 20s, short red hair, singing on an outdoor stage on Broadway NYC, an audience is watching her.

Kaiber.ai kaiber.ai I used this program to animate the still images and reimagine and animate several stock video clips. I uploaded the still photos from (Imagine.art) and the video clips and instructed Kaiber's AI to create a new video clip for each using phrases separated by commas. This section was time-consuming because there was much trial and error. I had to change the prompts numerous times to get the desired outcome. 

I edited and color-graded the video clips using Davinci Resolve. blackmagicdesign.com

The song, A Little Bit of Mystery, was written, recorded, and produced by Michael C Perry (aka Jour Majesty) jourmajesty.com

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

comma, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook, former seokjin x reader

summary: Both Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook are convinced that no one can give it to you like they can. You agree. That’s true. But also, that doesn’t mean you don’t want both. You are a masochist, after all. Question is, do they want to be the next phrase, the comma after Kim Seokjin?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; alludes to attempted suicide; descriptions of explicit D/s relationship; intense smut (fem reader, choking, restraints, spit-roasting [mouth/pussy], anal fingering, double penetration [pussy/anal]); shifting POVs between Yoongi, Jungkook, and you; non-idol!AU; rich heir, dom!Yoongi x tattooed, sub!reader x tattoo artist, dom!Jungkook

--

punctuation au semicolon ; | exclamation mark ! | period . | comma , question mark ? | apostrophe ‘ | quotation mark “

-

Neither of them expected your address to be the house it was.

For Min Yoongi, who was dropped off by a chauffeur in an unmarked black SUV, he looked up to the modern-style, two-story single home and was surprised. It was in a nice part of town. Lots of trees, neat grass. Yoongi was astounded that the house was so small, at least compared to his house. He never had a reason to walk in such a neighborhood before.

How quaint.

For Jeon Jungkook, who had taken a bus and walked partway, he was also surprised. This was a nice neighborhood, well-kept and clean. Were you really this rich? He thought his apartment was big, but it wasn’t a house. You did wear high-end office attire and carry a briefcase. Maybe you were more well-off than he thought.

How cool.

Both of them stopped at the same time.

Their eyes connected, realizing they were walking to the same destination.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes. Who the fuck was this guy? Knee-length black coat, white shirt, fitted black jeans. Long, straight black hair half-tied back, sculpted handsome features. Dark brown eyes with a hint of danger. Taller than him. More muscular than him too. Definitely stronger than him. The younger man furrowed his brows, studying Yoongi with a piercing gaze.

Yoongi cocked an eyebrow.

Jungkook frowned. Who the fuck was this? Some kind of rich punk with an elegant black suit, tailored perfectly to his body. Black tie with a white gold tie clip. Black dress shirt, but expensive, because it had little details like the double-layered black and white collar and the designer logo imprinted on the fabric, black-on-black. Shiny black oxfords, probably worth a damn car payment. He had sharp, cat-like eyes, predatory and superior. Dark hair, shorter than his, lightly curled and shadowing his eyes. Styled. This guy was definitely way, way richer than Jungkook.

Jungkook clicked his tongue.

“It’s you. Isn’t it?” they both said at the same time.

How annoying.

They both thought the same thing at the same time.

Is this what you’re into? There’s no way this guy is better than me at pleasing you.

Yoongi turned his head and began to walk up the path that led to your front door. This guy didn't matter to him. All he would have to do is simply convince you he was the correct choice and punish you for pulling this kind of stupid stunt. He didn't like it, but perhaps that was why you asked not to be exclusive. 

Jungkook followed a step behind, irate. How did you meet such a rich guy? Then again, you were apparently dating actor Kim Seokjin, so maybe that's how. Hmph. Well, that didn't matter. You weren't faking it. Jungkook remembered how you felt around him, how your voice changed when he was cock-deep inside you. You can’t fake something like that.

Your front porch was clean white concrete. It had a large white vase with a single leaf sticking out of it. A black doormat, completely plain. White door, no real defining features. No window, no door knocker, no fancy trim. Almost unlived in. 

Yoongi's eyes went up to the ceiling. Trailing down to the far end of the porch. There were several sturdy sea hooks screwed into the wood beams and a deliberately placed cluster of trees and bushes in front of said area.

Interesting. 

Jungkook pressed the doorbell impatiently. 

Yoongi didn't say anything. He didn't try to fight this young man or anything crass like that. The kid was a fool if he thought he could win this one. You were his. He had decided and that was that. It didn't matter who else tried to involve themselves. He did not break his pattern to be upstaged by a commoner.

Jungkook wondered if he had pissed the stranger off by pushing the doorbell first. One look at the guy and Jungkook knew he hadn't. What was he so cool and collected for? Is this what mattered to you? Money? That couldn't be true. You came back. You ran to see him. If all you cared about was money, then there would be no reason to even humor him. 

Once again, they both thought the same thing at the same time. 

There's no one who can give it to you like I can. 

The door opened. 

-

You unlocked the door, already knowing who it was. 

Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook glared at you from your doorstep. Yoongi in a trim black suit, Jungkook in that same long black coat you had seen him the last time and black jeans. Completely different backgrounds, completely different people, same authoritative energy. 

Kim Seokjin, your former dom, your former Master, had fucked you over. Even now, when you were no longer his, he was torturing you, putting you in dangerous situations. And, fine. Maybe you liked it, at least a little. Seokjin knew you well.

It would either work or not. Only one way to find out. 

"Explain." 

One word, from Yoongi's lips. His voice made your spine tingle, raspy and demanding. Your eyes flickered to his dark brown orbs, then to Jungkook's. Your hand left the door and you backed up.

"This wasn't my idea," was your calm reply.

You were wearing a fluffy white robe that touched the floor, pooling a little. Hair freshly blow-dried, clipped up because you didn't have time to style it. No makeup. You turned, the smooth fur train sprawling out behind you on the tile floor of your home.

"Whose idea was it, then?" Jungkook snapped. 

Your head looked back, watching them in your peripheral vision. A look both knew well. Too well. 

"My former dom."

You lowered the shoulders of the robe, revealing the pink lattice of whip lines all over your back, a deliberate pattern made by an expert. Jungkook's eyes widened. Yoongi's eyes roamed over your back, turning hungry. You pulled up the robe, knotting it once more. 

"Kim Seokjin."

You paused. Ah. Your eyes connected with Yoongi's at his statement. 

"You know him?"

"Everyone knows him," Jungkook cut in. "The question is, why do you know him?"

Your eyes shifted to the open front door. Yoongi noticed and reached over to close it. It clicked with finality. Yoongi locked it with one hand. Once he did, you turned your attention to Jungkook. 

"I told you, I was working though some things." Your tone was neutral. "One of which ending my contract with my former dom." It still hurt to say those words. You breathed out and noticed Yoongi watching you carefully, catching every one of your actions. "We'd been together for a long time, but one of my clauses was that I didn't want to be known to the public." You arched an eyebrow. "And so, we agreed to end our relationship."

"Were you in love with him?" Yoongi asked quietly.

You ticked your head. You began to walk into your home, musing as Yoongi removed his shoes and strode after you, Jungkook hastily following suit. Light steps in your bare feet, white robe trailing behind you. 

"In a way."

You caught Yoongi's gaze. 

"Nowadays, this kind of thing is commercialized, misunderstood. Perverted, if you will," you added with a smirk. You saw a spark of amusement in Yoongi's dark orbs. "People think they're into it, but they lack the conviction. Back then, things were different. Everyone was hiding and when they found someone like them, they were in it, one hundred percent. I met Seokjin online years ago, on a website made for people like us. We explored it together. I loved that we learned it all, together."

You began to ascend the stairs, a gentle curved staircase with a cascading chandelier in the center. It was like a tower of stars, black bars holding the multi-faceted crystalline bulbs. Yoongi paid no attention to it as if he had seen thousands of similar chandeliers before. Jungkook stared at it with wonder, the reflecting light scattering in his brown eyes and all over the walls.

"There was a time where I hated everything," you said quietly. "I took the things people said, the things they did to me, and turned it all inward, blaming myself, cutting my soul to shreds. It was obvious I did not fit in with my peers in many ways and they made it known to ne. I was not like the others, so I was not needed in this world. Everything I did was bad. Everything I enjoyed was awful. They dangled it in front of my face, berating my tastes, turning them into excuses for abusing me for their gratification. I tried to make it all go away."

"And you failed."

You were nearly at the top of the stairs. You stopped with Yoongi's words. He was on your left side, staring at the space under your left ear. Your semicolon tattoo. Jungkook noticed it too, suddenly fixating on it. One look and it was obvious that Jungkook at least knew the meaning of said tattoo, even if you hadn't told him directly when you received it from him. 

"I did fail." 

And for the first time, your voice was on the edge, skirting the blurred line of that long ago memory, hazy in sight, but painfully clear in feeling, because you remembered everything you felt that night, even if you could barely see straight. 

"How do you know?" you asked Yoongi, looking down at him. He was step below you. 

"I was there." His eyes, so dark, reminding you of moonlight and midnights. "In the dorm hall. The sirens were loud. The paramedics carried you away." You didn't remember if anyone saw you, not at all. But they must have. Everyone knew. "You never came back."

"I lived in the girls’ dorms," you breathed. 

"I was in the middle of fucking one."

"Ah."

That night at the hotel bar. 

"You knew it was me."

"I did."

Your hand was on the banister, holding it tight. You looked away, staring into the artificial stars. You didn't want to visit those memories. That time was faded now. The only memories you wanted to keep where the years with Seokjin. You treasured those moments with him, even if some were awkward, tense, strange, because he was there and he made sure you weren't alone. In some ways, Seokjin needed you too, not wanting to be alone in his desires, wanting to be accepted, even if it was only one person, until you were both strong enough to part ways, confident in those sides of yourselves.

"Maybe it's ironic that I became a sub. To forget. But then again," you added with a small smile. "Seokjin always reminded me it wasn't about the past. It was about being myself without apology and expressing myself without fear. My body is my safe place.”

"The world is quiet here."

Yoongi turned to look at Jungkook, as if he forgot the younger man had been there all this time. Jungkook ticked his chin to your covered midriff, referring to your ribcage tattoo.

"A Series of Unfortunate Events, right?"

You smiled. "Yes. One of my favorite book series."

Jungkook smirked. "It's a little ridiculous."

"So is life."

"You had a remarkably positive man as a dom for someone who whipped you so hard," Yoongi observed. 

"He is a very interesting character," you chuckled, taking another step up. "The duality helps enrich his acting."

"Why didn't you stay? Become his wife and hide at home all day," Jungkook questioned. 

You frowned slightly. "That's not me. I'm not a housewife. I like having a job. I like going about life with no one paying much attention to me. It was time for a change, I think. And besides, being Seokjin's sub and his girlfriend are two different things. We weren't that compatible in the latter."

"What is your job?"

You looked up at Jungkook's directness. "I'm an accountant."

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. "This is accountant money?"

Your eyes drifted around the white walls of your home. Instead of art, you had movie posters in large frames and bookshelves of various series crammed together with different bookends. You were standing at the top of the stairs, where your Star Wars posters were, all nine lined up.

"The house was a gift from Seokjin."

Jungkook choked. "What?"

Yoongi gave you a discerning look. "And I'm the one who spends a lot on my hobbies."

You shrugged. "It's an investment. And I was his property, so I had to live somewhere."

Yoongi raised his brows. "Is he coming to collect?"

You shrugged. "He is not a vengeful person. He asked me to look for another dom before our contact ended."

You could hear a pin drop with the sudden silence.

Those words reminded the two of them that they were here for the same reason and this was not a sudden exposé of your life, even if that's what it had become. There was immediate tenseness, electricity in the air between the two men. Yoongi did not look at Jungkook directly, preferring to stare you instead, but you noticed Jungkook’s jaw clenching, eyes rapidly flickering between you and Yoongi.

You took a step back.

And then another, your back against the double doors of the master bedroom.

Your hands slid backwards, both forearms on the small of your back. Head up, unafraid. There was nothing to be afraid of. You were who you were. They were here for something only you could give and you knew that.

A dom can only be a dom if a sub listens to them, after all.

Yoongi was the one who spoke first. You knew he would. Yoongi had more experience. He was a man who knew what he wanted and actively went to get it. He liked getting to the point.

“Pick one.”

“I don’t have to,” you replied coolly. “I told you I didn’t want to be exclusive.”

“Yes, you did,” Jungkook growled. “But you also said you’re mine in my presence.”

“And,” Yoongi interjected, taking a step towards you. “I don’t think you asked to be non-exclusive because you want to fuck around and look for other people.” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing dangerously. “I think you found your people, and they’re standing right here.”

Ping.

If you were a dartboard, Yoongi would have hit the bull’s eye.

When you didn’t respond, Yoongi’s lips curved into a slow smirk. Your fingers closed on the knobs of your bedroom doors. Jungkook advanced on you, tucking his tongue in his cheek.

“That’s awfully greedy of you, isn’t it?”

Your eyes flickered to his penetrating gaze.

“It’s the masochist in me.” You quirked your head to the stairs. “You’re welcome to leave if you’re not interested.”

“Of course, I’m fucking interested,” Jungkook snarled, shoving you into your bedroom doors. You didn’t remove your hands from the knobs. “You can’t offer me a chance and not expect me to take it.”

Yoongi’s long fingers slid between you and Jungkook, curling around your neck. Your eyes shifted to him and his intense stare. He didn’t speak for several seconds, Jungkook breathing in your face, hot air coating your cheeks. He seemed almost bored, but the grip on your neck was tightening. Eyes so dark under that black hair that you almost tripped and fell into the abyss.

“But no one else, got it?” Voice low, raspy, not to be questioned. “Just me and him. Whoever… he is.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you breathed huskily, slightly lightheaded. “My tattoo artist.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, glaring at Jungkook from the corner of his eye. “You? The one who tattooed ‘GOOD LUCK’, hm?”

Jungkook huffed, narrowing his eyes at Yoongi. “That’s me.”

“Jungkook, this is Min Yoongi.”

Jungkook’s face twisted in confusion. “The heir to that hotel chain?”

Yoongi shrugged in response. Jungkook frowned at you. You shrugged despite being mildly choked. “He has a sex dungeon in the penthouse suite. I was intrigued.”

Yoongi chuckled as Jungkook’s eyebrows raised. “That’s a glorified description, but more or less.”

“The tattoo wasn’t Jungkook’s idea though,” you corrected. Both men turned their heads to make eye contact with you. “Seokjin told me to get it. It was an order from my Master.”

Yoongi blinked slowly. “You took it very seriously, didn’t you?”

Your gaze sharpened. “I did. We had a contract. And there’s no guarantee I’ll do it again. What we had was… ours.”

Jungkook’s hands were on the top of your robe. They loosened a little, one of his fingers slipping under the fur and brushing against your skin. “We’re not asking to replace him,” he said softly.

Yoongi’s grip on your neck relaxed, his fingertips caressing the sides of your neck. “Agreed.” His nail traced the curve, sparking the fire within you. Yoongi’s lips curved as his eyes fell on the semicolon tattoo under your left ear.

“Only asking to be the next phrase. Like a comma.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat.

How did he know? He probably didn’t know how perfectly his words fit into your life. It was undoubtedly just a coincidence. But it was enough. You gripped the doorknobs to the master bedroom. Your room. Your bed, about to invite your two new doms into it, two doms who just met each other tonight, thanks to Kim Seokjin. Was Seokjin a prophet or were you just lucky?

You opened the doors and took a step back.

-

“Now that’s a fucking bed,” Jungkook breathed.

King size. Frame made of solid wood, stained ash gray, with a semicircular wooden headboard, finished off with a dark metal border. Fixed circular metal rings framing the headboard, spaced out evenly, heavy and foreboding. Perfect for rope. Black silk sheets, well-made with a thick duvet at the end, velvet with black-on-black stars. There were even metal rings along the edge of the bed, hanging. Waiting.

“I made it.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “You did?”

You placed a hand on the bed. Looked up at him. “Yes. I did. I bolted these rings on. I fixed the wooden slats together, held the power saw to cut the semicircle, and hammered the metal edge on.” You chuckled, pointing to the curve. “That’s why it looks a bit beat up.”

“Not because you’ve been fucking on it?”

You chuckled. “I’ll confess, no one really notices. It’s not what people are looking at when they’re in this bedroom.”

“What are they looking at?” Jungkook asked, small smirk on his lips.

You climbed on the bed slowly. Fingers spread out, a stark contrast against the black, white fur robe dragged across the silk. Yoongi’s and Jungkook’s eyes followed your movement. Flashes of skin in between the fur. You turned, facing them, arching an eyebrow. Playing with the tie, teasing it apart, holding your robe closed as it fell down.

“They’re looking at me, of course.”

You dropped the robe.

Couldn’t hide them anymore. They were already fading a little, but some weren’t. Whip lashes, bite marks, scratches, imprints of lust, all Kim Seokjin, not them. You hadn’t bothered to wear any underwear. No time to pick out anything nice anyway. All your tattoos were on display. The four-sided starburst, symbol of the Sith Order on your inner left forearm. The geometric lotus, on your inner right forearm. The world is quiet here, on the left side of your ribcage. GOOD LUCK, on the space where your right leg and crotch connected, taunting Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook. And the semicolon, just under your left ear, the one that started at it all.

“Your ink work, I assume,” Yoongi muttered.

“All of it, yes,” Jungkook affirmed.

Yoongi took a step forward, slipping his arms out of his blazer, tossing it aside onto the floor. That one blazer probably cost more than Jungkook’s whole outfit, shoes included.

“But you’re new, aren’t you?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything as Yoongi looked back, smirk on his lips, dark curls covering his cat-like eyes. He didn’t need to say anything. Yoongi’s fingers hooked on his black silk tie, releasing the white gold clip, tugging it down a tad.

“You have the same nervousness I had when I was introduced to this.”

-

Yoongi was greedy.

He was not used to sharing. He did not like sharing. But he saw benefits in it. Two dicks were better than one, as some might say. And Yoongi was indeed a busy man, despite reshuffling his schedule for this. He did not want you to get bored and see other people, especially people he didn’t know. It was obvious this Jungkook guy was already devoted to you without question for whatever reason. Yoongi didn’t really care. The only thing he cared about was the fact that Jungkook was obviously going to keep you occupied and he wasn’t going to let anyone else touch you.

Also, this Jungkook guy was cute. A fierce boy with fluffy hair who pretended to be tough to hide his adoration for you.

Yoongi approved.

However, that was not him. Yoongi had nothing to hide. He slunk to you like a large predatory feline. His voracious desire shimmered on the surface, evident in his mere presence, and you clicked with him instantly, following his movement with your gaze, fingers poised on your thighs. The connection of two who already knew their carnal needs, two who had already dipped into sin, two who valued the art in it. You tilted your head, plump pink lips parting. Beauty marks visible due to your lack of makeup.

Yoongi loved how you didn’t try to cover them.

He loved how his fingers curled around your chin, one by one, relishing in each gasp you gave him, your eyes hazing over. Falling, falling. Slipping into that headspace. Giving in to him. Yoongi yanked you by the face, forcing you to crawl on your hands, pulling you close. Blackberries and ocean breeze, musk clinging to your skin. He inhaled, exhaling right onto your lips, making your whimper for a kiss.

“Are you sure you can handle me and Jungkook?” he purred. “You could barely handle me.”

Instead of begging for mercy, you gave him a devious smile.

“Is that what you thought, Yoongi?”

He leaned in, nipping at your lips, earning a breathless moan. “Let’s find out.” Ticked an eyebrow. “Turn around and give me those wrists.”

You turned around, suddenly face-to-face with Jungkook. Yoongi had seen him climbing onto the bed, shedding his black coat in the process. He occupied you on purpose. He tugged down his tie calmly as you folded your forearms behind your back, Jungkook capturing your lips in a rough kiss.

-

Jungkook drank your exhales like they were water.

He didn’t think he would end up sharing you. He didn’t think he would agree, honestly. All this time, suffering without you, wanting you for so long, and he couldn’t keep you all to himself? Jungkook thought for sure he would strangle whoever touched you if he ever found out. But he wasn’t blind. He saw the way Yoongi looked at you and he knew it was the same expression he had. Jungkook was selfish, not stupid. To deny you would make you despise him little by little and he did not want that. He wanted you to moan into his mouth so he could suck it away, wanted your breasts pressed against his chest as Yoongi bound your arms behind your back with his suit tie.

Besides, Jungkook realized he was taking a liking to this Yoongi guy. He was very astute, he got to the point, and he was honest. Yoongi seemed older than him and definitely had more experience, so he was Jungkook’s hyung in that sense at least. He was also aware that Yoongi could have used all kinds of underhanded moves to convince you to toss Jungkook aside, but the older man had done none of those things.

He could have and he didn’t. Jungkook respected that.

Also, Jungkook sort of liked the way he looked. He wasn’t really sure why. He just did.

Maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to match his smirk, his fingers dancing up your arms as Jungkook sucked on your tongue, making you shudder under him. Maybe it was the way he tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you away from Jungkook’s lips, an elegant movement despite your pained whine, tipping your face to his lips as he kissed you, flitting his tongue in and out, teasing you. Your brows furrowed, squirming against your restraints, tits bouncing right in front of him. Your perfume clung to his skin, blackberries and ocean breeze. He could smell it as he watched your face. Jungkook liked watching your face. Your lashes. Your beauty marks that decorated your cute cheeks. Your lips trapped in Yoongi’s mouth.

Jungkook thought he would hate it, but he didn’t. You still looked so pretty, whining as Yoongi’s teeth caught your lower lip, pulling back slowly. It popped out, swollen from the roughness, paired with your wanton moan.

Jungkook felt his cock throb at the action.

Was it you or was it because he was watching it?

He didn’t know.

“Which do you prefer?” Yoongi asked. Almost impassioned. “Mouth or pussy?”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows. He honestly wasn’t sure. He knew what he wanted first. “Mouth?”

Yoongi smirked.

“It’s a trick question. You’ll get both tonight.”

A hot shiver slid down Jungkook’s spine and that was not you and that scared him a little.

-

Watching Jungkook undress was always such a fucking treat.

Even better was Yoongi shoved you against his shirt, scratching down your chest, sending pinpricks of pain all over to match your already sore body. Your eyes were glued to the hem of Jungkook’s long-sleeved white shirt, pulling it up and over his head, revealing his sculpted abs, his muscular chest, his arms, fuck, his arms, the right tattoo sleeve, the geometric lotus on his left forearm.

Yoongi traced the welts and bruises Seokjin left you, pressing into them just a little. You said it so many times before and Yoongi remembered, memorized all the little details. You were a masochist. It certainly wasn’t advisable to keep going when Seokjin had pushed you to the brink just the night before.

“You look pretty, marked up like this.”

But you gave into Yoongi’s smokey murmur, gave into his controlled touch, palms sliding up and rubbing your hard nipples, slow, easy, almost delicate as Jungkook reached over and cupped your face, tipping it up, up, towering, thumbs under your chin, his sharp features hovering over yours, brown eyes burning with black fire.

“I’m angry with you,” Jungkook growled. “Angry that you didn’t tell me sooner.”

He licked your lips, a long, snake-like flicker that made you whine under him.

“Always making me wait. Always making me impatient.”

You cried out as Yoongi pinched your sensitive nipples, making you lurch into Jungkook. He breathed in your exhale possessively, taking it away. Not kissing you. Voice so low it seemed to resonate inside your ribcage.

“If you won’t use this pretty mouth to tell us what you want, then I’ll have to put it to good use, won’t I?”

Jungkook released your face and Yoongi pushed your shoulder blades down, sending lapses of pain stinging through your skin as Jungkook undid his pants, shoving them down his thighs before grabbing you by the hair.

“Open.”

You obeyed without question, moaning as he slid his semi-hard length into your lips, already swelling in contact with your hot vise, tongue flattening against the head to lick off the pre-cum. Jungkook hissed, hips bucking into your face and pushing into your throat. You cried out, eyes shooting up to his, his blown-out pupils and clenched jaw, mole under his lower lip quivering with his smirk.

“What’s the matter? Can’t do it?” Jungkook taunted. “Three taps against your ass then. Hyung tied up your arms, not your fingers. Let’s see it.”

You felt Yoongi’s warmth completely leaving you, backing away. It was true; Yoongi had tied your forearms together, one above the other, and the back of your right hand could barely tap the top of your ass. It was a well-done knot, practiced and clean, unlikely to cut off your circulation.

You didn’t tap out.

You swirled your tongue up and down the bottom of Jungkook’s length instead, eyes narrowing. You didn’t back down from a challenge. His lips curved into a satisfied grin, fingers gripping your scalp tighter.

“Such a good girl, letting me fuck this pretty face.”

He rolled his hips into your face forcefully, and you cried out as the head hit your throat, almost too much, but you also didn’t care. Because almost too much wasn’t too much and that was your comfort zone, that tightrope of pain and pleasure, so fucking good as Jungkook’s thick length throbbed in your mouth, encompassing it all in your saliva, messily dripping down your chin because of his speedy, rough pace, his crotch smacking your lips, using you, praising you, his grating voice telling you how good you were, how beautiful you look swallowing his cock whole, how perfect you looked tied up. You didn’t have your hands supporting you, so your torso was tilted upwards, knees under you. Jungkook had to tip his hips up into your face, holding your head firmly as he rammed himself into your throat.

Suddenly, you felt strong arms around your hips. Long fingers pressing into your ass, drumming to a different rhythm. Your gasp was muffled by Jungkook’s dick as the younger man readjusted, pushing your head down, his free arm wrapping under you and gripping one of your breasts. Your knees were forced back, ass up, and your eyes widened as you felt the hard tip of Yoongi’s cock rubbing against your wetness.

“You keep condoms at such easy access,” Yoongi murmured, kneading your ass as Jungkook slid in and out of your mouth slowly. “Right in your nightstand drawer. So many too. Such an insatiable girl.” You moaned around Jungkook’s cock as Yoongi slowly entered you, only going in halfway. Denying you even longer. You whined desperately, trying to push back and get more, but Yoongi’s grip was immobile. His tone was a teasing drawl as your pussy clenched around him, enticing him to ruin you.

“Guess you need two cocks at once to be satisfied, hm?”

You nearly choked as Yoongi thrust roughly into your sopping wet pussy, jerking you forward onto Jungkook’s cock, the head going so deep that Jungkook moaned as it was harshly squeezed by your throat muscles. Thankfully Jungkook’s hold on your chest was so strong that you didn’t fall. Yoongi was still wearing most of his clothes and you could feel them chafing against your half-healed bruises, but it felt so good, his hard length stretching you out for him, Jungkook fucking your face sloppily, your spit sticking to his balls and his balls slapping your chin. They matched each other’s pace, both filling and emptying you at the same time, so much ecstasy that you didn’t think it was possible to feel so much at once, your pussy clamping around Yoongi’s length and making him hiss, hollowing out your cheeks as Jungkook’s hold on you tightened, panting hard above you. Your nails dug into your palms, knuckles white, the coil inside you tightening, tightening, so close, so close, your whimpers and cries being pumped violently back into your chest by Jungkook’s cock.

“No one else will use you but us,” Jungkook whispered lowly, breath hot against your back, squeezing your nipple in between his fingers.

“And we’ll remind you whenever you want,” Yoongi growled, changing the angle, pounding you more deeply now, causing your eyes to roll into your head.

You felt two different hands grabbing your forearms, clasped around each of your tattoos, sinking their nails into you.

“Cum.”

You didn’t know who snarled it, but it didn’t fucking matter, because the roller coaster shot all the way up and suddenly you were in free fall, the fire instantly consuming you as your came, splattering all over Yoongi’s cock, walls pulsating around his length, the feeling overwhelming as you wailed around Jungkook’s cock, cut off by his salty orgasm flooding your throat, forcing you to swallow or choke, hearing Jungkook’s sharp groan of your name. You gulped it down, whimpering as Yoongi’s cock jerked inside you, shooting into the condom and twitching in your throbbing core. So much sensation that your spasming pussy shuddered, gushing more liquid out. Yoongi shoved his cock into you, purring your name, and you lapped at Jungkook’s cock with a whine, curling your tongue around the head and sucking at the same time.

So good.

Felt so fucking good to left go and just be used.

You felt the knots being undone, arms suddenly free, but you didn’t have the strength to do anything with them, focusing only on squeezing Yoongi’s cock in your pussy and sucking Jungkook until he was hard again. Two sets of hands caressing you gently, dipping you down through the afterglow.

Jungkook pulled out of your mouth, grunting as you tightened your lips, glaring at him. He lifted you up, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you think that’s it?” he asked, dangerous edge to his voice.

You smirked at him, the sides of your lips inflamed with use, saliva dripping down your chin.

“I’m hoping it’s not.”

-

“This is not going to work.”

“I’ve done it before, Jungkook.”

Jungkook bit this lip. You must be insane. Have to be. And yet you wrapped your arms around his head, breathing softly onto his lips, nestling him carefully on your pillows. The bed smelled like you, blackberries and the sea, mixed with the scent of sex. Your hard nipples rubbing against his bare chest, his hands on your waist. His heart was beating so fast, so fast, and if he wasn’t in this impossible position, he could dial it up and be that presence you liked.

But he was really, really fucking scared.

Really scared that you were going to get hurt.

His eyes widened as long pale fingers traced around your chin, one by one, placing themselves on your jaw and pressing into your cheeks. Your teeth caught your lower lip, moaning in his face.

And then Jungkook felt it.

He felt it because his cock was buried all the way inside your pussy.

“A-ah, Yoongi…”

Jungkook wanted to snap, look at me, but he couldn’t, because you suddenly became so tight, so fucking tight that he couldn’t think, sucking in a sharp breath. He felt Yoongi’s bare thighs slide against his, and then that dark head of hair appeared, cat-like eyes staring down at him. Two of his fingers slid into your mouth, rubbing your tongue as he began to move his fingers on both hands, nice, easy, slow, making Jungkook’s eyes flutter at the sensation of your walls closing in on him, all because of Yoongi’s fingers in your ass.

Yoongi chuckled. “Never done this before?”

“F-Fuck no,” Jungkook gritted out, grip on your waist tightening as you gasped, pushing back down on Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi smirked. Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

“What an innocent boy.”

Jungkook almost shot back, but Yoongi shoved another finger in your ass and you jerked on top of him, moaning deeply and clutching his head. Jungkook gasped, feeling the lube drip down and splatter over his balls, and he could hear it, the wet, obscene sucking sounds as Yoongi slowly fucked your ass at a measured pace, pushing you up and down the length of Jungkook’s stiff cock with the force of his thrusts.

Yoongi’s hand pulled out of your mouth, grabbing your hair and pulling back, knocking the clip out of your hair. It bounced on the bed, a black claw clip with pearl accents.

“Relax,” Yoongi ordered sharply. He didn’t raise his voice but there was a sharp edge to it, punctuating it with a particularly hard thrust and making you cry out, nearly pulling at Jungkook’s black locks, but Jungkook didn’t even notice, fascinated by Yoongi’s power over you. “You want my dick, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes, Yoongi…”

Yoongi leaned forward, pressing his lips into your ear. Jungkook’s eyes widened as he felt Yoongi flex his fingers inside you, spreading you out. 

“I guess I should be grateful that this hole seems to have been used last night, considering you’re already taking me so well.”

You whimpered, tits right in front of Jungkook’s face. He took the chance and reached up, pinching and rolling your hard nipples between his fingers as Yoongi ruined you with his words, sliding you up and down Jungkook’s length once more. So good, oh fuck, Jungkook didn’t think it would feel good letting someone else besides you or him control the pace, but Yoongi must have been practiced and you followed his lead, lifting and lowering your hips to his rhythm.

“I was going to be much rougher with you, but maybe next time,” Yoongi purred, licking your neck. “Since you’ve been so generous tonight.”

Yoongi was not a talkative person. He was stalling on purpose, because he could see Jungkook was scared you were going to rip in half or something. It took a lot for Yoongi not to laugh at him, but it would ruin the moment and Yoongi was composing a nice scene. He wasn’t about to ruin it now.

He really wanted to see Jungkook’s face when his dick was finally in you.

Yoongi pushed you down on top of the younger man, listening to Jungkook’s gasp and your pleased snicker as he began to pull his fingers out. He yanked them out of you and you moaned right into Jungkook’s mouth, grabbing his head and kissing him fiercely at the sudden emptiness, frustration and anticipation in your kisses. Yoongi smiled calmly, picking up the towel and wiping off his fingers. He didn’t have to worry. Apparently, you had prepared for this.

Took a shower before answering the door? Check. Kept condoms, lube, and towels at your nightstand? Check. Didn’t wear any underwear to meet two people who were very clearly going to dom the fuck out of you that night? Check.

Clever girl.

Yoongi rolled the condom down his aching cock as he watched you make out with Jungkook’s face, shuddering as his tongue forced itself into your mouth, the younger man’s brow furrowed and his hand gripping your jaw, nails digging into your skin. Yoongi was surprised to find himself enjoying this, observing the vigor of Jungkook’s kisses stealing your breath away and your whimpers into his lips, hands tangled in his black hair.

He enjoyed it, but that didn’t stop Yoongi from positioning himself behind you and shoving his cock into your ass.

“Fuck!”

“Ah, yes, Yoongi!”

Mmm, he could always count on you to take what he gave. Jungkook sputtered and gripped the sheets, gasping for breath and you began to move, up and down, up and down. Yoongi’s eyebrows raised, thoroughly impressed that you had the energy to move at all, let alone start the pace. And, fuck, you were tight as fuck back here, fuck, he thought he stretched you out enough, but even Yoongi paused, clenching his jaw as his entire length was squeezed and pulsed around, your moans filling the room, his balls slipping against Jungkook’s as you moved. Was that all lube?

It wasn’t.

Yoongi inhaled sharply. The consistency of your cum was different from lube and Yoongi tensed his chest, reaching up and curling his fingers in your hair, yanking sharply so you stopped moving.

“Did you cum?”

He couldn’t see you face, but Jungkook could. Jungkook shook his hair out of his eyes and glared at you, searching your face.

“She must have,” Jungkook growled. It seemed like he had finally snapped out of his nervousness. His right hand shot up and clasped around your neck. “What are you looking so smug for?”

It didn’t matter if you had two different hands trying to control the movement of your head.

It didn’t matter if you had two cocks shoved into your two tight holes, dripping and trickling down onto the towel beneath your three bodies.

You turned your head and glanced at Yoongi in your peripheral vision. Yoongi sensed movement and looked down. Jungkook did the same, mouth going dry. Your left arm at the small of your back, four-sided starburst with the filled in circle facing Yoongi. Nice tattoo. Your right arm in front of your stomach, inner forearm facing Jungkook, the geometric lotus. Draw something for me.

You cocked an eyebrow.

“Punish me, then.”

Yoongi lips curved into an open-mouthed smirk.

“Jungkook, move.”

Jungkook smacked his hips up into you and you gasped, but Yoongi didn’t wait, matching his rhythm instantly, in when Jungkook slid out, out when Jungkook slid in, so fucking tight and wet, your arms dropping, palms splayed out on Jungkook’s chest.

“A-ah, Yoongi, Jungkook, p-please…” you panted, unable to move your head with Yoongi’s hand in your hair and Jungkook’s grip on your throat. “Please, oh fuck, fuck…”

“Please what?” Yoongi exhaled, trying not to lose his fucking mind because, fuck, the feeling of Jungkook’s cock filling you up and then sinking back in to that impossible tightness, so good, so fucking sexy watching his cock disappear into that plump ass, his now, didn’t matter if he had to share because, fuck, sure, he’d fucking share with this hot, tattooed young man furiously slapping his hips into your pussy, probably unknowingly rubbing their balls together, but Yoongi liked this.

No.

He fucking loved this.

You were gasping out your words and Yoongi was too busy pumping his cock into your ass to hear it the first time.

“Say it again,” he growled.

“H-harder…”

Jungkook couldn’t believe his ears. Harder? He couldn’t even think to be honest, squeezed so hard by your pussy and feeling Yoongi’s cock moving inside you, the older man’s balls slipping all over his and there was absolutely no way that Jungkook thought he would like this before tonight, but he did, fuck, he loved it and he tightened his grip on your throat, only to make you lightheaded, careful not to cut off your trachea.

“Take it,” Jungkook snarled, increasing the pace, putting more force behind it, and he watched your eyes roll back, your breathless moans filling the room, fuck you looked so good, so fucking good being stuffed with two cocks and your mouth open, lips puffy and used by him fucking your face earlier. And everything was so tight, so wet, so messy, your pussy smelling so, so fucking good, spasming around him every time you came, so much so that it was almost constant, your juices slipping down and covering his balls to smear onto Yoongi’s. The ‘GOOD LUCK’ tattoo flashed every time he retreated and, fuck, even the sound of Yoongi grunting behind you as he fucked your ass was sexy and Jungkook was nearing the end, he was on the edge, but he refused to cum, not until he heard what he wanted to hear from your pretty, pretty lips.

He released his grip on your neck suddenly and you sputtered and panted, blinking hard, still shuddering, racked by the strain of taking so much at once. Jungkook growled your name, gently knocking your chin with the back of his hand and forcing you to look at him.

“Who owns you?”

God, he loved those eyes. Those perfect, perfect eyes, submissive and burning with fire.

Yoongi purred your name, yanking your head back by your hair, earning a pained whine.

“Who owns you?” Yoongi echoed in his deep, raspy drawl.

The smacking of hips to wet flesh, lewd and obscene, resonating throughout your bedroom.

So much cock.

Fuck, it felt so fucking good.

There was no one to replace Kim Seokjin, your former Master.

But he didn’t have two dicks either, so in that department, Jeon Jungkook and Min Yoongi had him beat.

You gave Jungkook a devious smirk.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

He slapped his hips into yours, groaning lustfully as he heard his name from your lips, and it all spilled out because he couldn’t control it anymore, yes, all I wanted, your hoarse declaration of his name and your muscles tightening all around him, forcing his orgasm out in thick spurts, swelling inside the condom.

“Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi hissed, smacking his cock into your ass and released your hair, arm shooting around your chest to hold you possessively, pressing your back into his torso, moaning as he came inside your impossibly tight hole, all of it milked dry and expanding the condom, so good, so fucking good, because it was you, his obsession, you in his arms and he was not going back to his pattern, fuck no, never again.

Neither of them noticed they had closed their eyes.

Jungkook opened his eyes to find Yoongi staring at him with a half-lidded, cat-like gaze. He stared back, confused at how he felt this sudden connection, as if he had found someone just like him. Min Yoongi was nothing like him. He was rich, calm, sharp. Jungkook was only a tattoo artist.

Who didn’t realize he was a dom until he met you.

Yoongi smirked.

Jungkook cocked an eyebrow, smirking back.

Ah, maybe that was it.

-

his moment, question mark ?

--

masterpost

[palesmokeisinthevoid]

Another batch of Fankid doodles because it never seems to stop

Both Andromeda and Momo wanted to try out the book club with their parents… Momo ended up quitting and Andromeda learned she was dyslexic, though she still goes to meetings, even if she has to have some help reading.

Hewie and Lulu making flower crowns, just cousin stuff or something idk I barely talk to my cousins.

Main kids doing poses like their parents. I’m just going to share a fact about each of them. In universe Lofty was named that because their head is slightly lopsided, out of universe they were named after Lofthouse cookies. Rosy Posy is the tallest of all the kids. Andromeda has wings, that way she can really be in the air like a star, But she hides them inside her shawl. Toby has a built in Veemote. Hewie really likes birds.

Finn Jr really looks up to Benny, he thinks they’re cool…Benny could care less.

Lofty and Comma are both non-binary (Lofty uses They/Them and Comma uses He/She), Andromeda is Gender-fluid, Benny is a Demi-boy and Lulu is a trans girl

[oogaboogasphincter]

Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn (Ezra x f!reader)

Summary: Staying in a hotel on Puggart Bench while in between expeditions has given you and Ezra a lot of time to develop your relationship both emotionally and physically. On your last night before you depart for your next trip together, you decide to try out one of Ezra’s kinks. Your heartstrings aren’t the only things that will be getting tied up this evening. 

Word Count: 6.8k+

Rating: E (explicit) 18+ ONLY! because this is like 80% smut

Warnings: mild allusion to a rocky relationship from this oneshot (both partners have made up and are now in an established relationship), smut, soft-ish bondage (f gets tied up), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (obvi use protection irl please), dirty talk, swearing, a hand on a throat but no choking, one (1) instance of ✨spitting✨, questionable kink shaming??💀(a joke is made about daddy kinks), comma splice, atrocious metaphor and repetitive sentence structure galore. also no beta reader, and reader uses she/her pronouns and is afab. 

Author’s Note: this is my first smut fic! i really appreciated all of the positive feedback that i got on my first fic (💚), so i thought i would do a smutty follow-up to it! if you haven’t read it and you’d like to, you can read it here. i tried my best to make this fic readable as a standalone oneshot though, so if you’d like to do that, that’s cool too! :) i think the only things new readers need to know are that Ezra’s nickname for the reader is Goose, and The Blue is a moon, like The Green, that Ezra, Cee and the reader traveled to in my last fic. also i reference the traffic light system a lot more in this fic than i have personally read in other fics, just because i feel like it’s a great way of checking in on your partner during sex. i know it might get a lil annoying after a while, but i think it’s important to keep it up. i also wanted to include it in my first fic bc even though i might not use it explicitly in my next fics, i want it to be understood that I think it’s super important to continue to check on your partner, etc. also i apologize if the smut isn’t “realistic”, as your writer is 100% a virgin skjfskdj💀 i don’t think that means that i don't know/can't learn how to write some smut though! however i would just keep that in mind💀, and i hope you enjoy it! :)🍀💜

p.s. i'd like to say thank you to @martinsmomo​ one more time for giving me the amazing request for my first fic! 💕

gif by @skyshipper

“Go to the bedroom, strip to your underwear and wait for me.”

The patch job of your relationship with Ezra on The Blue was a success. Spending an equal amount of time with him alone, alone with Cee and as a trio boosted your strength as a group. The awkward silences and argumentative expeditions around The Blue were no more, and were replaced with friendly banter and jovial hikes. You and Ezra had made up so much that you had started to express your affection for one another physically. 

On every third day or so, Cee would go out on a trip alone, needing some time to herself. It wasn’t that she couldn’t stand the two of you - although you and Ezra occasionally found joy in pushing her buttons - but she enjoyed doing activities by herself. It made her feel like she was fortifying her transition from teenager to young adult. You and Ezra couldn’t have agreed more and supported her independent decisions. 

And on every third day or so, her absence from the pod allowed your courage to physically engage with Ezra to grow. The two of you had kept it to a minimum, not wanting Cee to notice any blushing cheeks or sweaty foreheads or panting chests when she would return. The majority of your time was spent just cuddling in positions that were a little too sexually charged to be considered platonic: a leg wound around a waist here, a hand gripping an ass there. The heaviest moment you had had was during a makeout session. 

While lying down in Ezra’s makeshift bed and mingling tastebuds, you had hiked one of your legs up and over his hips. Soon after, you felt the tip of his cock poke the underside of your thigh. He couldn’t have been harder. You dared to relieve some of his pent up arousal while still maintaining some semblance of innocence and released your grip on his hair, slid your hand down his broad chest and slipped it underneath your leg to get to his erection. You held it and ran your fingers over the tip of it, then along its length, hoping to get a good idea of what your pussy would have to take on at some later time. The moment Ezra felt the light weight of your hand, he moaned deeply into your mouth. He had then broken your kiss and warned, “Goose, in all seriousness, you should highly consider concluding your investigation unless you want to throw me into a pit of agonizing embarrassment.”

You teased, his clothed cock still in hand, “Ezra, I think we should stick to swallowing each other’s tongues and not speaking in them.” 

He had hummed in delight and grinned at you, then sighed, “Okay then, in your plebeian lingo: if you don’t stop rubbing my cock, I’ll cum in my pants.”

You both erupted in laughter, and you had snaked your hands back up his body and entangled them in his hair, taking his tongue in your mouth once again. 

After your departure from The Blue, your gang had decided to stop on Puggart Bench and decompress for a while. Cee wanted to hang out with her friends before they all went their separate ways in their new adult lives, Ezra wanted to repay the loan he had taken out for his prosthetic arm and you wanted a real bed to sleep in. Not a pilot’s chair, not a bundle of blankets on a metal floor, but a real bed. With a mattress, a comforter, a nice set of sheets, a plethora of blankets and pillows. A two bedroom suite in Puggart Bench’s most prestigious hotel was what the three of you had booked for two months before another orbiting moon made its way into the Bakhroma System for the three of you to explore. Your group had engaged in some nice, familial-like activities, nourishing your found family dynamic. 

You and Ezra had also spent quite a bit of time getting to know each other physically. While Cee would spend the day with her friends, you and Ezra never left your bed. Well, technically Ezra left the bed when he would stand, pull you to the very edge of it and subsequently use his newfound balance to pound into you with abandon. Your body hadn’t left the sheets, even when you knelt on the floor and took Ezra down your throat; your back pushed against the side of the mattress with every one of his thrusts. 

Fast forward to the present day, and it is the last day you are on Puggart Bench before you leave for The Indigo, the new moon in town. Cee is spending the night at her friend’s house, where she will be having one last sleepover with all of the girls she won’t have the chance to connect with for an undetermined period of time. You feel guilty for looking forward to her leaving because you can only imagine what your bedroom will see of you and Ezra tonight. 

While he washed your hair after a particularly exertive romp, Ezra had hinted that he had a kink that he wanted to try out with you. Without a definite return date from The Indigo, he offered that the two of you try it before you left for the moon, his desires getting the best of him. He never elaborated on what the kink is, as the both of you got entranced with washing the rest of your bodies. You plan on bringing it up tonight in the hopes of coming to a decision of whether or not you two have the patience to wait to test it out or not. 

The two of you are now putting on a facade of patience as Cee packs her things in her room. You sit in between Ezra’s legs on the couch, back to his torso, both of you reading a different book. The text fails to retain your attention, so you place a finger on the page you are on and fold it over. You shift your head against Ezra’s chest to look up at him, pupils dilating immediately as they take him in. Black thick-rimmed reading glasses grace his face, the only indication in his rugged appearance that he would be a bookworm. He glances down from his book to meet your eyes, smiling at you. He brings his right hand down, brushing the back of the dark grey metal against your cheek. You smile back at him, and a naughty thought pops into your brain. 

With your free hand, you find Ezra’s cock in an instant and palm it through his pants. His mouth drops in blissful surprise, but he’s quick to sit up and yank your hand away from his now hard dick. He snaps out a whisper, “Patience, Goose,” and places a light kiss to your temple. He gets up and walks away, afraid that you would just try to place your hand right back where it was. He was also afraid that he wouldn’t have the strength to stop you the next time. 

Suitcase clips clap from Cee’s bedroom, and moments later she walks into the living room. You look up at her from the back of the couch: still pouting that Ezra shooed you away, and he looks up at her too, standing behind the kitchen counter: hiding his erection. You both fight through your mutual embarrassment and smile at her, noticing her excitement. She beams at the two of you, suitcase in hand, and raises her shoulders, “Well, I’m going to go now.” 

She starts to walk to the door and Ezra follows her, putting a hand on her shoulder, “Have a good time, Sparrow. We’ll swing by and scoop you up tomorrow afternoon.” 

Cee smiles up at him, “Will do.” 

Ezra retracts his hand and puts both in his pockets, “We hate to bar you from seeing your friends and leading a more stable life, but we really do find solace in your company on our travels. It keeps us grounded, as much as one can be on an orbiting moon.” 

She turns so that she faces both of you, “No, that’s okay. I really enjoy being with you guys. You’re like a family that I got to pick.”

Tears threaten to run down your cheeks as you get up and rush over to her to give her a tight hug. She returns your embrace and Ezra follows shortly behind, encasing both of you in his arms. He draws giggles from his girls by placing a kiss on each of your heads, and after a moment of relishing in your found family, you all release one another. Cee says her final goodbyes, opens the door and closes it behind her, giving you and Ezra one last final smile of departure. 

You feel ashamed by the amount of heat that floods your genitals as soon as you hear the lock of the door click closed. Ezra, ever sensitive to your every mood change, pulls you in close and presses his forehead to yours, “You know we have to wait, Goose.” You nod, all too familiar with your routine once Cee left. You would wait and listen for her to walk down the hallway to the elevators, press the down button, wait for the doors to open, walk inside the chamber once it arrived, wait for the doors to close and finally start to descend to the ground floor. You did so out of respect for her; you and Ezra would never be able to forgive yourselves if she were to, for example, forget something and come back to find the two of you in the middle of some heated relations. 

Ezra’s fingers massage your shoulder blades as you anticipate the sound of the elevator opening, fully aware that he was not only dissipating any nerves you have but spurring your arousal on as well. He knows that thoughts of his fingers traveling elsewhere swarm your brain as he alternates the pressure his fingertips give you. With this knowledge, unbeknownst to you, he’s thinking about what his first order for you will be tonight. Would he introduce the kink that he alluded to the other day? Does he just want a night of repeating your default, mind-blowing agenda? How would you feel about reversing roles, and have you be his dominant and him your submissive? 

The ping of the elevator down the hall snaps him out of his trance. You eagerly await the whir of the elevator going down, and seconds later your wish is granted. Ezra lets go of you and steps back, eyes raking up and down your body twice before telling you, “Go to the bedroom, strip to your underwear and wait for me.” Such straightforward instructions to come from such an elaborate man. Ezra doesn’t waste a second in giving you seductive orders the moment he hears the elevator descending, his hunger to devour you reaching unbearable levels. With your appetite consisting of the same ferocity, you follow his instructions and go to your bedroom. Plopping onto the bed and laying on your back, you kick your shoes off, shimmy out of your pants and slide your shirt up and over your head, tossing the items to the chair in the corner of the room where you and Ezra kept your clothes. You found it humorous that he, like you, implemented the “chair of discarded clothing” into his life. 

Now in just your underwear and socks (Ezra had relayed to you that it is statistically easier to orgasm while wearing socks), you reach over into the nightstand and pull out a necktie. You had been rewarded with such powerful orgasms at the hands of Ezra - literally - that you often couldn’t hold in your cries no matter how hard you tried. The necktie’s usual resting place was in between your teeth, tied around your mouth in an effort to muffle yourself out of courtesy of your neighbors. Ezra’s mouth remained ungagged; the neighbors must’ve thought that he was trying out some new rigorous exercise regime with all of those heaves, grunts and... moans? What sort of move would cause his headboard to repeatedly knock on the wall? 

You sit and rub your thumbs on the buttersoft navy silk of the tie, patiently awaiting Ezra’s entrance into the room and later your cunt. A few moments later he comes in and shuts and locks the door behind him, an emergency precaution to protect the eyes of Cee or any intruding employee. He comes over and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. You glide over to him like a magnet and figure out a part of his kink after taking a quick glance into his hands, seeing that he’s holding rope. Black rope, to be exact, of varying lengths. He notices your quizzical brow and asks, “Spill your thoughts, Goose.” You gingerly reach out and touch the rope with your index finger, your vision moving in loops as you trace the coils. You look up and meet his eyes, those warm, curious, assuring windows to his soul that you love ever so dearly. You question, “Do you like to be tied up or do you want to tie me up?” 

He displays a faint smile, “I’d find great satisfaction in tying you up. However, I would be a liar if I claimed that the thought of you restraining me and having your way with me never joyfully crossed my mind.”

You sit there in silence, taking in his desires. You are most definitely up for this, you just approach every new romp with hesitation. You hadn’t been a virgin the first time you slept with Ezra, but no one had ever made you feel so good. So open, exposed, on display, in all the right ways. You had been set ablaze by his confident maneuvers, calmed ever so coolly by his doting ministrations. He had drowned you in his passionate love, and you had loved every single fucking second of it. It just got a bit overwhelming at times, which he would take notice of and promptly give you your time and space when you needed it. 

The rope intimidates you. It was smooth to the touch on the pad of your finger, but you could already imagine the uncomfortable burns it could give you. The tightness and thickness of the coils add to the fantasy of being completely immovable, but it also plants doubts in your mind. You voice your concerns to Ezra, “I’d love for you to tie me up, but I don’t think I’d like to start with rope.”

He cups your cheek lovingly, “Always one step ahead of me, Goose,” and picks up an end of the necktie in your lap. He rubs it with you, “I don’t want to start with the rope on you, either. I want us to work up to it.” He pats your cheek and holds up the rope in his hands, “I mean, it does look a little scary, doesn’t it?” Your newfound ease lets itself out of your lungs with a giggle, mirrored by Ezra. He turns and puts the rope on the seat at the foot of your bed, and you climb into his lap as he turns back around and cover his mouth with yours. Falling back onto the bed, his arms wrap around you like a snake and constrict you to his body. You grind your pussy onto his clothed torso, desperate for some friction, your soft moans tumbling down his throat. 

He has to pull you away from his mouth by the back of your neck, “Let me take my clothes off, sweet girl.” He gives you a chaste kiss before you roll off of him and let him stand to strip. As he gets naked, you remove your panties in a flash, and he quizzes you, “Color system?”

“Green for when I’m enjoying it, yellow for when I’m being pushed to my limits, red for when I’ve reached my limit and need you to stop.” 

“Good girl. What’s our safe word?”

“Magpie.”

“Excellent. Are you ready?” he asks as he pulls his underwear down and repeats your earlier action of throwing the discarded clothes onto the chair in the corner. 

You nod fervently, “Yes sir.” 

He sighs as he walks over to the edge of the bed and kneels, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Goose, you don’t have to call me that. I feel fulfilled enough in my domination with the heavenly noises your precious body emits.” 

You shrug, “It’s just natural. It’s a good girl formality, Ez. Aren’t I a good girl?”

He raises an eyebrow as he hooks his hands behind your knees and pulls your legs over the bed so you’re sitting on the edge, “I don’t think good girls let their neediness get the best of them and just fondle cocks out in the open.” You let out a devious laugh, noting his reference to your sneak attack on the couch, and he takes the necktie from you.  Your fingers run through his hair for a moment before he gently takes your wrists, smiling up at you. 

He reaches up to kiss you, and after your lips part he mumbles against them, “I’m just going to tie your hands together now, okay?” 

You nod, “Okay.” 

He gives you another wholehearted kiss before sitting back on his feet, beginning to tie your wrists to one another. You admit, although it’s incredibly arousing to watch his thick fingers twirl the smooth fabric into a knot, you grow a little bit anxious at the loss of movement. He can read it on your face after he finishes the knot, “I want you to lay back while I eat you out. I tied your hands in front of you so that you can pinch me if you want me to stop but can’t find your words.” You nod, appreciating the simplicity of his instructions. 

“I need you to use your words now, Goose.”

“Okay,” you reiterate, “Safe word is magpie. I can pinch you if I can’t say it.”

He nods, “Good girl,” and eases you onto your back. As he’s moving down your body to your core, something dawns on you, “Wait a minute.”

Ezra pauses and looks up at you with a caring expression, “What?”

“How am I supposed to stay quiet with the tie on my wrists and not in my mouth?”

He answers simplistically with a smirk, “Don't.”

You laugh, “What about the neighbors?”

“Fuck them. They should be grateful that tonight they will be an audience to one of the most beautiful symphonies that has ever been composed. And I’m not stepping foot off of this planet until I’ve heard my good girl’s clear, unabashed screams.” 

A rush of hot air leaves your mouth, enticing Ezra to come back up and push it back into you with his tongue. A moment of clashing teeth later, he retreats back down to your core and lightly knocks your legs apart. You shift your gaze downward to find him admiring your cunt, his left hand capturing his dick and pumping it a few times. He leans forward, presses a kiss to your inner thigh and then runs his sharp nose over the spot, up your leg, across your hip and back down to your wetness and inhales deeply. You can’t help but laugh at his display of rapture, his sniffing audible. He threatens you in disbelief, “My indulgence amuses you, Goose?” 

You meet his eyes with yours, twinkling with mischief, “Yeah, kind of.” 

He puts his tongue in his cheek and shakes his head, “Goose, you are being a bit of a brat.” He pushes your knees to your chest, his hands on the backs of your thighs, keeping them in place, “And you should know by now how much I love taming my little brat.” 

You are very aware of how much he enjoys brat taming, hence your acting up. His tongue licks a wide stripe up your core and a gasp escapes your mouth. He moans into you, sending vibrations through your cunt and shivers up your spine. He buries his tongue in you, his lips fornicating with your southern set, his fingers gripping your soft flesh tightly. Your anticipation of this moment has made your cunt oversensitive, so every little tickle of Ezra’s facial hair, every small movement of his warm tongue, every faint nudge of his nose and chin against your vulva makes you moan loudly. The pattern that his tongue is following suddenly picks up speed and your body involuntarily adjusts to it. Your hips buck up into his mouth, your clit weeping to be drenched in his saliva. Your tied hands lower until your fingertips are able to find his hair and intertwine with the thick brunette strands. The stability that gripping onto his hair gives you makes you hyperaware of just how close you are to cumming already. You whimper, “Ezra, please.”

This tone of your voice has been permanently ingrained in his mind thanks to your daily fucks over the past couple months. If the tightening of your hamstrings isn’t a large enough hint to him that you are close, your breathlessness is a blatant clue. He releases you from his mouth, lines of spit keeping the two of you connected, “That’s my girl, come on.” His egging on is more than you need to be shoved into your orgasm. As his tongue returns to lap at your clit, your neck arches up and your eyes roll into the back of your head. A groan rips through your throat that drowns out his muffled moans, his mouth working you through your orgasm. Your sharp intakes of air start to stagger out as your heart begins to calm down, your cunt pulsing with aftershocks. Ezra reluctantly removes his mouth from you, wetting your inner thigh with a line of his spit and your slick before pressing a kiss to the same spot he kissed earlier. The blackness of his pupils overtakes his chocolatey irises when he catches your eyes, dopamine flooding his nervous system. 

He presents his wrist, does some math on an imaginary watch and jokes, “That must’ve been a record, Goose.” You giggle and pull your hands up to your mouth, trying to hide your embarrassed smile. He reaches up and pulls your hands back down to tangle your fingers in his cowlicks, “But my desire to drink pools of your cum has not yet been satiated.” 

You swear under your breath as he dips his head back in between your legs, your voice catching in your throat when his hot breath cascades over your folds. This time, instead of licking stripes and lapping, he opts to draw shapes and trace circles against you. It sounds stupid, but man does it feel fucking good. Before you lose all self control, you give his scalp a massage, the best one you can muster with conjoined hands, as a way of telling him I love you. Simultaneously, he switches his tongue’s clockwise motion to counterclockwise and hooks his hands around the tops of your thighs, pulling you deeper into his mouth so he can devour you even more thoroughly than he already was. You brush his hair off of his sweaty forehead with your knuckles, seeing that his eyes are closed and brows are furrowed in concentration. He’s been moaning this entire time into you, blissfully lost in the heaven that is your pussy, and as his tongue picks up its pace the vocal vibrations boost your toward your release. You beg of him, “Please don’t stop.” 

He doesn’t stop. In fact, he heightens your arousal one step further than you thought possible. He notes your utter wetness and decides to fill your wanting hole by snaking his left hand down to your entrance and slipping two fingers inside you. A heated orgasm pumps through your every artery just like Ezra’s fingers are pumping in and out of your cunt, his tongue keeping a delicious pace. After your body is done convulsing with pleasure, he moves up it and stops in front of your face. 

“Open.” 

You are all too familiar with this command and obey. Ezra spits a combination of your cum and his saliva into your mouth. He presses a hand to the underside of your jaw and you close your mouth. 

“Swallow.” 

You do as he says while he keeps his hand against your neck, feeling his love concoction make its way down your throat. He groans and gives you a quick kiss before asking, “Color?” You smile and bring your hands up to scratch at his scruff, “Green. You?”

“Green.” 

Pulling your body tight against his, he hauls the two of you to the middle of the bed. He sits up and back atop your hips, pulls your hands closer to him and begins to untie your wrists. Your eyes can’t help but fixate on his hard dick, standing erect in front of you, as he speaks, “Now Goose, once you’re untied I want you to get on all fours for me,” he notices your distraction, “and if you try to pull any shenanigans, there will be consequences.” You shift your gaze up to his eyes and you swear that there’s a deep sparkle in them that is daring you, begging you, to disobey him. He liked to punish you as much as you liked to be punished by him. So, once untied, you throw him a curveball and take his orders, flipping over and propping yourself up on your hands and knees. You look over your shoulder at him to see that his face is mangled in baffled confusion, making you laugh, “What?” 

He mounts your ass and teases your entrance with his cock, “If you had attempted to grab what your eyes were drooling over, I would’ve spanked you.” 

“But I didn’t.”

He leans over your back and places his hands on either side of yours, “I wanted to spank you.” 

“I know. But I’m not a naughty girl.”

He raises his eyebrows and chuffs out disbelief, “Maybe if you continue to tell yourself that delusion, you can convince yourself that it’s true. But there’s no fooling me. I know my girl is infatuated with misbehaving in order to spite me,” he stuffs his cock inside your pussy, “Isn't that true?” He lifts his left hand to wrap his fingers around the arched column of your throat, forcing you to look up at him. 

You dismantle his lie, “I don’t do it to spite you, I do it to delight you.” 

He pulls his hips away from yours in order to prepare for a thrust and hums, “That’s one reason why I love you, Goose. You see right through me.” 

The two of you groan in unison as he fucks forward and bottoms out inside you. As he establishes a steady pace, your quivering fingers find purchase on his wrist. Even though you had slept together a countless number of times in the past two months, his girthy penetration still overwhelmed you at first, and you benefitted from at least a few seconds of adjusting. He knew this and was why he untied you; his brutal rhythm coupled with the binding of the tie would be too much for you without a little warming up. While he’s stretching you out, he murmurs encouragements into your hair, “That’s it, just like that... You’re taking my cock so well... Good girl.” 

After your muscles relax, he asks, “Color?”

“Couldn’t be greener. You?”

He grins at your response, “Green.” 

He gives your cheek a kiss before proposing his next instruction, “Why don’t you be a good girl and lay down and put your arms behind your back?”

He pauses his thrusts as you lean forward and press your cheek against the sheets. You turn to ask him just how he wants you to move, and he reads your mind, “Touch the pits of your elbows.” You twist your forearms behind your back until they are pressed against each other and the tips of one hand’s fingers graze the opposite side’s elbow. He snakes the silky tie in between your spine and wrists, the fabric gliding easily over your sweaty skin. He ties your wrists together again, this time much looser than before. He color checks you when he finishes the knot. You wiggle your arms, the amount of resistance being just right, “Green.” He hums in enjoyment and runs his fingertips down the backs of your arms, sending a pleasant shudder through you. 

Lining himself up, he places a steadying right hand on your lower back. The contrast of the cool metal of his prosthetic limb to the fire that barrels through you once he pushes himself back into your hole is divine. Both textures of his hands slip against your skin as they try to find a solid grip on your hips in order to allow him to begin pounding into you. Your whimpering spurs him on, and once he’s able to to lock you into place you both swear under your breath in anticipation. As he embarks on his ferocious rhythm, an orgasm takes you by surprise. 

Well, not really by surprise, because Ezra has proven time and time again that he can coax you to cum at a moment’s notice. 

Out of courteous instinct, you bury your face into the bed to muffle your cries of ecstasy. Ezra turns your face to the side and tuts, “Uh-uh, Goose, I need to hear you this time, remember?” 

You can barely him him, let alone understand him, while an astronomical burst of white oxytocin smothers your poor body. Unable to gain control of your composure to stop yourself, you indulge Ezra and let your screams fill the bedroom. The numbness of your mind fades away, effects of your orgasm bringing feeling back to you: the hot tears that spot your bottom lashline, the sweet soreness that the tensing of your muscles left you, the sweat that gathers in the line of your spine, the aroused slick that coats your inner thighs. 

You pant as Ezra unties you, “Good girl. Flip over and face me,” and he tenderly places your forearms to your sides. 

You’re exhausted. You can most definitely take more of his loving, but you need him to do the work, “I can’t.” 

He rolls you over onto your back, his muscular arms giving you the comfort you need to go on. A frantic, worried expression takes over his face, “You okay? Still green? I didn’t push you too far, did I? Was the tie too tight? Did I-” 

You shut him up with a kiss. You reassure him, “Yes, still green. Just fucking tired.” 

You both laugh, and he asks, “Do you want to stop?” 

You shake your head no, “I’m not sure if the neighbors heard all of that scream. I think they need another one.” 

Your dirty talk contorts his mouth into a grin of sly allure as he gets up off the bed, “I concur.” He opens a drawer of the nightstand and takes out another necktie, this one made of black wool. He gets back on the bed and says, “Let’s give them a musical to remember.” 

You snicker as he pushes both of you farther up the bed, giving you more room to mess about in. He places the second tie next to the blue one and a hand on each of your ankles, “What this next position requires in flexibility it will pay for infinitely in pleasure for you and I both, okay, Goose?” 

Your wariness is excited, “Okay?” 

He pulls your legs together and picks up the blue tie. He wraps the fabric around both ankles, beginning to tie them together, but pauses and interjects, meeting your eyes, “You’re okay with me tying you here, right?” 

You smile at his concern and mock, “Ezra, you could tie me any way you’d like and I’ll be more than happy.” 

His nose crinkles in satisfaction and he resumes tying you up. After he’s done, he pushes your thighs to your chest, bending your knees so your feet are in the air. You can’t stop the laughter that erupts from you, “Ez, what in the Bakhroma System are you scheming?” 

He gives you a wickedly teasing laugh back, “A fun time, Goose.” 

He momentarily cups your face with his left hand, “If at any point it gets too much, for whatever reason, just say the word and I’ll stop everything.” 

You take his hand and kiss his palm, “Okay.” 

He smiles, boops your nose with his thumb and pulls your arms so that they rest in the pit of your upside down knees. He picks up the black tie and does a different knot on your arms than he had done previously. He puts the binding on them higher up, which makes you hold your legs up, keeping your cunt on display for him. The wool of the tie scratches where the silk had soothed you, but you savor the friction. Ezra wastes no time in entering you again, plunging his cock deep into your fluttering walls. You brace your forehead against your shins, panting wildly. With every thrust, he hits something deep and sensitive in you, but you know you could make the experience more intense for the both of you. 

“Ez?” 

“Yeah?”

“Can you look at me?” He angles himself so he can look around your legs and meet your eyes. As you are projected into the depths of his eyes, engulfed by the lust-blown ink of his pupils, enhanced by the dark coffee that surrounds them, an “I love you” slips out of your lips. 

He compresses your body further by leaning down and capturing your mouth, “I love you too.” 

When he pulls back and his hands find the backs of your thighs, he asks for a color check. You answer green, giving him permission to ravage you. He does just that, putting every ounce of his might behind his thrusts, eliciting growls of the same magnitude from you both. The gradual construction of an orgasm starts to warm your body, your moans getting louder and louder with each passing second. In an effort to put it off, you bite down hard on your lip. Ezra notices, running a thumb across your lipline, “Goose, please, allow me to be privy to your every stuttered breath.”

“Every gasp of delighted surprise.”

“Every involuntary whimper.”

“Every lustful yelp.”

“Every plea for me to keep going.”

“Every unhinged beg.”

“Every feral scream that only I can rouse out of those magnificent lungs. Indulge my deranged wish and let me hear it all, Goose.”

His words whisk you onto an expressive whirlwind of slow-building passion. You close your eyes and watch as your orgasm transforms from a cozy snuggle to a captivating explosion; behind your eyelids, amorous red transitions to a lustful magenta. It lightens to a flirtatious and giggly bubblegum, intensifying to a vibrating, barely-there pink. Then, all at once, buckets of slumberous evergreen, pure Ezra energy, submerge you into your release. Any bit of any other color is eradicated as he pours his soul onto yours. Descending from your chameleonic trance, you open your eyes to meet his. He can see that he has torn you apart in a most satiating way, which catapults him to his peak. He pulls out of you and pumps his cum onto the backside of your thighs, his heart collapsing with joy. He smears his stickiness across both of your hamstrings and then quickly gets to work to release you from his necktie binds. The bind that he has made of your heart to his, though, is infinitely knotted, forever unbreakable. 

Your limbs untangle themselves and fall to the bed, every cell in your body pooped from the session. He asks for a final time, “Color?” 

You sigh, “Green. You?” 

He smiles, “Green.” 

He brushes the now cum-stained ties to the side and pats your stomach, stamping a handprint of his seed, “I’ll be right back, Goose.” You nod once and he gets up and exits the room, leaving the door ajar.

You flip onto your stomach, your muscles yearning for a change of position after getting pummeled into the mattress. You bend your arms to lay in front of you, elbows sighing in relief for being contracted instead of stretched. You close your eyes and rest your head on his pillow for what seems like a millisecond, but when you open them back up Ezra has returned with two glasses of water, a washcloth and a juice box. 

He folds the cloth into a triangle, dips a corner into a glass and then brings it behind you. The icy water feels good on your overheated skin as he wipes away his cum before it has the chance to dry. Once he cleans you off, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed next to your depleted frame. He sets the cloth down and picks up the other glass of water, “Drink this, sweetheart.” You prop yourself up on your forearms and gulp some much needed fluids down as Ezra holds the glass steady against your mouth. You hold up a weak hand when you’ve had your fill and he finishes off the drink. You never thought you would find sharing a drink like this with someone stomachable, let alone wildly attractive. But Ezra had changed you; you wanted to exchange cells, germs, bodily fluids with him, no matter how nasty it sounded when put into words. 

Ezra trades the glass for the juice box and pops the straw into the opening, holding it up to your lips, “Drink some.” You curiously eye the juice box: apple flavored, the carton decorated in bright and childish cartoons. You tease him, “You know, when I said I might have a daddy kink, this is not what I meant.” 

You both laugh, and he pokes after a moment, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” 

As you take the straw into your mouth and drink, he places a hand on the back of your head and pets your hair, “That’s it, babygirl, do as Daddy says.” An air of laughter blows through your nose and you choke on the liquid as Ezra cackles. You drop the straw and cough, “Stop!” 

He continues to laugh at you while you whine, “Why do I have to drink this anyways, can’t I just have water?” 

He calms himself down and shakes his head, “No, I want to replenish your blood sugar. Otherwise you might feel faint, and not in a good way.” He shoots you a wink and you take another sip of the juice. 

When you’re done, he puts the half-empty box back on the nightstand and lays on top of you. You joke, “You’re crushing me and you told me I have to pee right after.” 

Since sleeping together, Ezra had realized how little knowledge of aftercare you had. He had advised you to go to the bathroom as soon as possible after the deed is done in order to avoid urinary tract infections, among other pains. He nuzzles into your shoulder and protests, “In a minute.” 

Taking into account the history of his comment and your increasingly heavy eyelids, you rebut, “You know that never happens.” More often than not, when Ezra trapped you in a cage of cuddles directly afterward like this, the two of you would fall asleep and you would skip the trip to the bathroom. He grunts and moves his weight off of you, “Fine, but I’ll only let you go if I can carry you in there.” You barely have time to begin laughing before he’s swooping you up into his arms. 

After you both use your respective time in the bathroom, you and Ezra dress in matching pajamas and climb into bed. Coddling you into his broad chest, his fingers dance on the back of your neck and your lower back. You turn your head up to face him and when he returns your gaze you reference the whole night, “Thank you.” 

A smile crinkles his tired eyes, “The pleasure was all mine, Goose. Thank you for taking it all so well. Get some sleep, okay?” 

“Only if you will too.”

“Sure thing, my love.”

He gives you a kiss before you retreat back into the sanctuary of his embrace. Right as you’re drifting off to sleep, he adds, “I would like to ravage you one more time, in the morning.” 

Your smirk pulls at the fabric of his shirt, “Okay. But no daddy kink. We have to save some things to explore when we come back.” 

He hums, pressing his cheek into the top of your head before the two of you succumb to the temptation of sleep, “As you wish.”

💘taglist: @pascalpanic

[hoedorokishoto]

Trust - Part 2

Shoto Todoroki x Reader 

warnings - explicit sex, swearing 

previous | part | next

Todoroki had gotten taller since the last time I had been this close to him. His body also filling out and getting stronger from all the training. Changes that weren't noticeable until I was inches away from him, measuring his body for any new costume changes that might be required. From watching the training exercise I had concluded that putting a mesh suit under his current costume was the best course of action. One that was highly resistant to both hot and cold, to decrease the number of small burns and frostbite he seemed to get from using his quirk at high outputs. The same mesh being impenetrable and good if a villain ever decided to stab the future pro.

"Shinso said you are very good, and that I'm in good hands." Todoroki said, looking down at me as I continued to take his measurements.

"Were you worried beforehand?" I asked, quirking my eyebrow, and standing up. His dual-coloured eyes continued to burn holes in my back wherever I walked around the workshop.

"Is there a reason you keep staring at me?" I asked softly, not mad but uncomfortable with the constant attention.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable; I just like watching you work."

"I'm excited to see what you come up with."

Todoroki looked the part of being cool and confident but sometimes the way he spoke reminded me of what an awkward little bean he could truly be. Hitoshi stating that his social skills could still use a little work.

"Well, I'm glad you are excited. I think I could make a lot of cool improvements."

It wasn't a lie, I was excited. Any opportunity to further my career as Hero Support or be in the workshop creating new inventions was always a plus to me. It was the Hero in front of me that I had reservations about. Being with new people who I didn't really know wasn't my idea of fun. Neither was small talk. At least we had that in common, both of our silences falling over us like a heavy blanket, and it seemed that neither of us knew how to escape it.

"Are you-."

"You shou-."

You both said at the same time, looking at each other. A smile crept onto my face as Shoto's cheeks darkened with a small blush. Shoto looked down at his feet, his two-toned hair coming down to fall over his eyes.

"You were saying?" I asked, stepping closer to Todoroki, and looking up into his eyes, trying to keep him flustered, finding his awkwardness cute and endearing. He didn't step back, sizing me up.

We were so close I could feel the heat coming off his body, the proximity causing goosebumps to spread down my arms.

"I was saying you should have seen my first hero suit; it was really bad. Or as Ashido says tragic." Todoroki said, his voice low, his face still so close I could feel his breath. Todoroki was handsome, I would have to be blind to deny it. His features were sharp and prominent, his half and half colouring only adding to his air of mystery. I wanted to test the waters; see exactly how far I could push him.

"I have a feeling you could wear a sheet and still look good." I stated. Dropping back down in front of him and measuring his inseam.

"You think so?" Todoroki asked a smirk plastered across his face as he looked down at me.

"If I wanted to see you naked I think I know just how I could make that happen." I said.

Despite my brave statement I still blushed as he looked down at me still, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I bet you haven't seen anything like this." He answered quickly, leaving my mind racing. The position we were in doing nothing to help me try to get a handle on the situation.

"Are you trying to fluster me?" Todoroki asked, leaning down and putting his fingers under my chin, guiding me back up to stand with him.

"Is it working?" I asked, a similar smirk falling across my face. Leaning into his touch, his left hand warm on my skin.

"Maybe..." Is all he said, stepping off the platform and turning towards the door, picking up his bag and school uniform jacket as he went.

"Same time tomorrow?" He asked, turning around one more time to look at me, my eyes wide, trying to comprehend the situation. I didn't speak, just nodded my head in his direction and spun around. Heading to the workbench to write down all the measurements I took while it was fresh in my mind. I wanted my mind to be anywhere but thoughts of Todoroki and whatever had just happened.

                                                               *

The regular noise of the 3H dorm filled my ears as we all sat down for dinner, various pots of stew and bowls of rice steaming, spread out across the table. The day had ended like any other, covered in grease and staying in the workshop at least an hour later than you intended to only coming back to the dorm when one of the teachers turned off the lights and refused to put them back on.

"Todoroki huh, that's cool. He has a really cool quirk and you're a genius so it's like a match made in Heaven." Mei stated, her hair sticking up behind her goggles and her skin looking just as grease-stained as mine.

I just nodded, scooping rice into my mouth to avoid any real conversation, wanting to be showered and in bed as soon as possible. The exchange between Todoroki and I was still fresh in my mind even now. The intensity of his dual-coloured eyes burnt into my brain.

"Y/N lost for words? I never thought I'd see the day."

"I'm not lost for words; I just don't have anything to say..."

"So you are lost for words?" Mei laughed, swinging her arm around my shoulder, and hugging me close. I was grateful that I had found her, other than Hitoshi she was my first real friend, bonding over our love of machinery and design. She was quick to call me out on my bullshit when I needed it and quick to be a shoulder to cry on. On top of that she was a genius who always had insight into whatever project I was working on, helping, and lending advice whenever necessary. If you looked up mum friend in the dictionary she was it. If your mum stayed up all night, had big boobs, ran on coffee and had a steam punk obsession.

Ding

Sen – Hey, how was your day? You busy tonight?

Even the way he typed was perfect, down to the last comma. I wished that Sen could be anything other than someone I fucked around with but the feelings one should have just weren't there. I often wondered if I was keeping him from someone, someone who could return his feelings. Someone who deserved to receive nicely punctuated text messages over dinner wondering about how their day was.

Y/N – Your room or mine?

                                                             *

His grip on my waist was so hard I thought it might bruise, but that was an afterthought as I felt Sen thrust up into me, filling me up and hitting the spot inside me that caused a knot to grow in my stomach, a sign of my impending orgasm.

I looked down at him, his eyes closed as his head was thrown back, his face was cute in this situation. Different from the handsome angular face he usually wore. His brown hair was stuck to his temples, our bodies sweaty from the activities we were currently partaking in.

"You feel so good." Sen moaned out, his mouth starting to kiss up my neck, his handing snaking around and holding the back of my head and neck. Holding me somewhat steady as I continued to ride him.

We both picked up the pace, chasing our orgasms as the sound of skin on skin rang out throughout the room. He kissed me, hard. All teeth and tongues. Both of us coming together with a loud moan. I slumped into him, his arms circling around me pulling me closer as we both caught our breath. I wished I hated him, I wished I didn't care about his feelings. He was comforting, it was times like this that I really wished I could like him how he wanted me to. How he deserved.

I rolled off him, planting my feet on the ground, walking around the room looking for my clothes that had been thrown around the room. I heard Sen shuffle behind me, taking off the condom, tying it off, and throwing it in the trash can by the door.

He came up behind me, I could feel his presence looming over me like a ghost. He reached out and touched my side as I pulled my jeans back up and clipped my bra up.

"You don't have to go." Sen said quietly, almost a whisper. There it was, the words that had the power to cleave my heart in two. Not for my sake but for his, at every turn I was reminded how bad of a person I was, I reminded myself that no matter how nice people were to you or how good it felt when they were inside you, nothing ever really lasted, and the people who claimed to care the most were always the first ones to leave. Why couldn't Sen see that?  Romantic relationships were a distraction which I didn't want to get myself involved in and neither should he.

I turned and took the shirt from him that he held out, slipping it over my head. Collecting the last of my things like my phone and shoes and stopped in front of him once again.

"I'll text you later." I said softly, stepping up onto my tiptoes and kissing his cheek. Not looking back as I left his dorm and made my way to the elevator. Praying that all his classmates and Mr. Vlad were asleep.

I made it out of the 3B dorms without any fuss, no hero students, or pro heroes in sight. Thank God. The night air was cool and made the walk back to my dorm quite pleasant, I wasn't in a rush, taking in everything around me. The students jogging around the grounds and the dorms that were lit up with life. The 1st years loudly yelling and laughing, no doubt getting used to dorm life.

I came to a stop outside the 3A dorm, contemplating visiting Hitoshi knowing that regardless of the time he would be up and if he weren't he would wake up for me. I wanted to talk to him, but I also didn't want another weird almost lecture like he gave me the other day. It was hard to talk to people who knew me better than I knew myself sometimes because there was never any hiding. There wasn't anything that I could hide from Hitoshi, even if I tried.

Just as I was about to move on the large doors of the dorm swung open, a very pissed Todoroki stepping out, being followed by an equally as pissed Momo Yaoyorozu. Without thinking I ducked behind the nearest bush and hid. Not meaning to spy on their conversation but also not wanting to look like a creep who snuck around other people's dorms at night.

"I honestly don't know why you are being like this Shoto. Just get over it and we can go back to how everything was." Yaoyorozu said in the distance.

"It was almost 2 years ago; I don't want to do anything with you. Even if I did want any form of relationship with you I definitely wouldn't want it to be like how it was back then." Todoroki replied.

Both of their voices distant, further enough away from the dorm so their classmates wouldn't hear but not close enough to me that I could hear all their conversation.

"That's a bit harsh. We should be together. Both of our fathers think it's a good idea."

"When have I ever given a fuck what my father thinks?"

"Shoto, don't be vulgar. You have been hanging out with Bakugo for too long. He has started to rub off on you."

"I don't want to have this conversation with you anymore Yaomomo, I've said what I had to say, it's you that keeps bringing it up. I won't be getting back together with you, I won't be sleeping with you anymore and I won't even consider it just because our stuck-up scum bag fathers think it's right!" Shoto yelled loudly, there was no doubt that everyone in the vicinity had heard.

Yaoyorozu stomped her foot and pouted, turning on her heels and walking away.

"Well, I still have your cashmere sweater! I'm keeping it!" She shouted over her shoulder.

"Yeah well I still have your virginity, so I guess you win some you lose some." Shoto said back, causing Momo to huff and walk back towards the large doors. I chuckled at his statement, this Shoto vastly different from 1st year Shoto, different again from the Shoto that was in your workshop earlier today.

Yaoyorozu didn't look back as she entered the dorm, leaving Shoto Todoroki standing in the moonlight, looking even more ethereal than usual. If it were even possible.

And me, standing in a bush looking like a creep.

[isabellehemlock]

25 and 34 for the fic ask game!

Aw thanks for the fun questions, Katt! 🥰

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

Oooooh well let's see - if we're going by like fics I've written based on other characters, I'd probably go with something head cannon-y I ship for TOG folks since I've spent a lot of time with them ruminating around in my head?

I like to ship Andy as someone who might be forgetting what her mother looks like but still remembers how free she feels when riding a horse, because it reminds her of childhood.

I like to ship that before Andy, maybe Quỳnh was the leader.

That Joe's rings are his collection of wedding bands from the last few centuries because they get remarried at least once every century. Every time Nicky suggests he could just reuse the same band, Joe make a definitive, and very dramatic, dismissive guffaw.

Speaking of Nicky, I like to believe that he chooses to live a fairly ascetic life, as part of a spiritual choice/practice. Hence why he cuts his own hair even though by now they gotta be millionaires.

With Booker, I think it would be funny if he did fake IDs both as a necessity but also just to fuck with historical figures over the centuries - doesn't even matter if it takes decades, he'll stumble on some newspaper clipping of their confusion whenever they circle back to an area and just cackles.

And finally, but certainly not least, for Ms. Nile. I would like to believe she has a more playful side to herself. Warm and boisterous (if not a bit more subdued than Joe's) and her fave art style is ceramics

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

I use it habitually myself, but I don't know if I really notice if others don't? So I guess to each their own, lol

[animationdesk]

Helloooooooo I’m staring animation and I have a lot of questions lol.

1. Is there a website that you can type words in, and it will make a mouth move (to help w how to draw the mouth) (( hope that all made since lol)

2. Is there a certain order to make an animation?

3. Is there any tips on making the whole progress less confusing and cluttered?

Tysm!!

Hi there! It is awesome to hear of your journey of animating, and I hope these answers will help you progress as an animator! :)

1. While I am unsure of a website that creates the mouth movement, there are tutorials and advice on this blog for lip syncing: https://animationdesk.tumblr.com/tagged/lip_sync_tutorial

2. One animation principle that can help you with this question is Straight Ahead and Pose to Pose. You can start the animation by drawing them from start to finish (Straight Ahead), but realize that the animation can lose volume as you go from start to finish. Pose to Pose helps keep the animation be consistent by posing the animation from start to finish with Keys, and then filling in with Inbetweens (Straight Ahead). To see what I mean, check out Alan Becker’s video on the principle (he has other videos, it’s a great series/resource for animators): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8quCbt4C-c

3. I am sure there are tips to make the process and progress simplified and less complicated. The first tip I would encourage is to start with your basic gestures and shapes first as the rough animation. This way, if you need to edit your frames, you’re not trying to edit everything. When you get to the motion and pacing that you like, you can then add the details to the animation (hair, clothing, etc.). If you finish watching Alan Becker’s video on Straight Ahead and Pose to Pose (link in Answer #2), you will be able to see some examples of this, as well as how to plan your animation from start to finish.

Animation is challenging, but very rewarding, and you do understand more through trial and error as you create more. To help further your understanding of animation, think of a 5 second clip of an animation you like and study it by viewing the animation as a whole, and frame by frame (you can do this on YouTube with the video paused and using the comma [,] and period [.] keys). Try animating that same scene, so you can understand the animator’s decision making as they have animated it.

If you’re interested (or anyone else following this blog), I would be happy to have a post with links of animators teaching you how to get started in learning how to animate (YouTube, Vimeo). Just let me know. I hope this helps you, and feel free to ask more questions if you have any. :)

[rjalker]

I don't actually know what Orihime looks like because I forget every time she's not on screen, and I can't remember what her friends look like or how many of them there are, but I think there are five of them so here's Orihime with a gun because she deserves to kill people

*Insert some clever pun with "something something I reject" here*

[ID: a crude digital drawing of the character Orihime from the Bleach anime, glaring at the camera and holding a gun with two hands, pointing it towards the camera, while above her comma five small indistinct wing and fingers fly above her head, saying, "Kill that asshole!" "Hahaha" "Kill him!!" "Fuck yeah!" And "Woohoo!"

The only part of the drawing that has color is Orihime's hair clip which is drawn as a light blue, five-pointed star.

End ID.]

[teaplease1717]

Fireworks

Title: Fireworks

Relationship: Todoroki Shouto x Yaoyorozu Momo

Chapters: 1 of 3

Rating: G+

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26685007/chapters/65087851

A little late, but happy second year writing anniversary to me! Wahoo! Thank you everyone who has supported me over the last year. It sure has been crazy, but seriously all your love, kudos, and comments have kept me going. THANK YOU!

This is a small 3 part story that was originally going to be a one shot, but got really long. And since I hate long chapters decided to break it up into 3 parts. All the parts are done but won't be posted until they've been beta read.

Shout out to all my betas for this work: FlourChildWrites, Emberstork, Crazyelf2018 and C's Melody ! (thanks also to Taq too for calming me down when I was a spaz, and Revaliciousness for doing a final read)

And, staying on the topic of betas, HUGE shout outs to my betas for the entire year: C’s Melody and FlourChildWrites. They’ve been helping kick Ashes of Love and War into shape and seriously I could not have done it without them. Any beautiful imagery is thanks to FlourChildWrites pushing me to be more descriptive. And, although as readers you probably can’t see it, C’s Melody has helped with the story flow and advised where scenes didn’t hit. Both have pushed me to be a better writer and I’ve learned so much from them, so thank you!

To celebrate my anniversary, I’m throwing everything I’ve learned into this piece. Last year, my big takeaway was how to keep a scene in one character’s pov and I got better at adding movement to bring a scene to life. This year, I think my biggest improvements have been learning when to use commas vs periods in dialogue and how to make sentences shorter and to the point.

Other notes, this piece was heavily inspired by Kaguya-sama: Love is War. I watched both seasons of Kaguya-sama and fell absolutely in love. I’m not usually into those kinds of romantic comedy stories but this show killed me. So now you all have to put up with my TodoMomo version of the fireworks episode.

XXXXXX

“I’ve got it!” Ashido’s chair screeched back, and she slammed her hands down onto the dorm’s dining table, causing Momo to start. Hagakure’s fingers paused in Momo’s hair as Ashido looked excitedly between the class 2-A girls. “We should go to the Sumidagawa festival!”

It had been a month since the last of the cherry blossoms had fallen, and the brisk chill of spring had given way to the cloying heat of summer. With the changing seasons and their fast-approaching summer break, an infectious excitement had taken root in class 2-A.

Unlike their first year, when they had been shipped off to the mountains to train, the summer of the class’ second year was looking to be far more tame. No training camps. No extra classes. Besides their mandatory part-time internships for the holidays, U.A. was leaving the students to enjoy their second-year summer in relative peace. And no one appeared more excited about this than Ashido Mina, who had called an ‘emergency’ girls meeting to discuss possible options.

“Sumidagawa?” Momo repeated slowly. She could feel Hagakure’s fingers scrape lightly against her scalp as she resumed braiding her hair. Momo looked down and pressed the knuckle of her index finger to her chin, trying to remember where she had heard the name before. She had only been to a festival once before — during first year, with Todoroki Shouto.

Momo felt her heart stutter in the manner she was growing accustomed to when thinking about her seatmate. Recently, her mind had grown prone to fixating and overanalyzing Todoroki Shouto’s words and actions. And, in particular, one of her favorite moments to focus on was their time together exploring and watching fireworks at the Ennichi festival.

She shifted in her chair, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles from her lace night shorts.  Her fingers caught at the edge of the fabric and Momo wrapped the end around her finger.  There was no reason for her to be thinking about it this much. Todoroki showing up at the festival had been a coincidence. And his decision to escort her was an act of kindness that any hero in training would extend to a fellow classmate. So why? Why did her mind insist on returning to that night, over and over?

It must be because Todoroki had never expressed interest in spending time with her before that night. In fact, up until the sports festival, he had seemed the solitary type, uninterested in getting to know anyone in their class. The fact that he felt comfortable enough to open up to her, of all people, about his family made her chest swell with happiness.

“It’s super, super amazing!” Ashido continued excitedly, drawing Momo out of her thoughts. “And it’s not too far from here. We have to go.”

The name finally clicked, and Momo looked up at the girls surrounding the table. “Ah, I’ve seen the Sumidagawa fireworks from my room before.” She held up a finger and smiled. “It’s a historic event that can be traced back to the Kyoto famine in 1732, when fireworks were launched as part of festivals for the dead –“  

“No!” Ashido interrupted, crossing her arms into an ‘x’ above her head. “That’s not why we are going, Yaomomo!”

“Vice President, that’s not it at all,” Hagakure chastised lightly from behind her, her invisible fingers pausing their task of pleating Momo’s hair into a braid. “The festival is about fireworks, food stalls, and yukatas.”

“Exactly!” Ashido’s voice cracked as she nodded in agreement.

“They’ll have so much good food,” Uraraka echoed from across the table, cupping her cheeks. “Okonomiyaki, yaki imo, takayaki...”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Hagakure said, unintentionally yanking a section of Momo’s hair, making her flinch. “And they’ll have your favorite Uraraka-chan — mochi!”

“Mochi!” Uraraka’s voice grew shrill on the word. Her expression lit up as if she already tasted it.

Momo hid a giggle behind her hand.

“It would definitely be a fun summer activity, kero,” Asui added, tapping her chin and smiling. “My sister gave me a new hair clip that I’ve been meaning to wear.”

“I’m sure the guys would love to go too,” Uraraka said, pressing her fingers together, except for her pinkies which stuck up in the air.

Jirou raised an eyebrow as she looked across the table at Uraraka. “Are we inviting the guys? Or keeping it just us?” she asked, twirling her earphone jack around her finger.

“I think we should include them,” Uraraka said thoughtfully. “It would be fun to do something all together.”

Ashido leaned closer to Uraraka, a grin twisting across her lips. “So sly, Urarka-chan,” she said, elbowing her in the side. “You just want to hang out with Mi-do-ri-ya, don’t you?” she whispered in a sing-song tone. The black of her eyes glittered suggestively.

Uraraka flushed. “No! It’s nothing like that,” she said, waving her hands in front of herself frantically. Her eyes glanced around the living room quickly. It was deserted except for them. Uraraka’s shoulders relaxed and she leaned back in her chair. “I just…” she trailed off, dropping her gaze down to the table. Her expression turned whimsical. “It's just maybe our last year that we can do something like this — all together — before we graduate.”

Momo’s chest tightened.

“Ochako-chan,” Asui said; her voice was soft. She reached over to rub Uraraka’s back.

Everyone’s expressions fell as the reality of Uraraka’s words hung over them. Once they became third years, they’d be busy interning and applying to agencies; they wouldn’t have time to spend going to festivals. And, even if they did, the likelihood that they would all have the same evening off on one of Japan’s busiest days of the year was slim.

Momo bit her lip. She had enjoyed seeing the fireworks last year at Ennichi with Todoroki  —

Todoroki.

Would this be the last chance she’d get to see them with him? Momo's heart dropped.

Ashido’s expression flickered, and she straightened. “That settles it,” she said firmly, curling her left hand into a loose fist and pounding it against her right palm. Her eyes were intent. “Let’s invite everyone. We have to live this up if it’s going to be our last summer that we can all hang out together!”

Momo nodded, her spirits lifting at Ashido’s words. “I can speak to Iida-san about the planning.”

Ashido gave her a thumbs up. “Perfect!”

“And we have to dress up,” Hagakure stressed.

Ashido’s expression lit up. “Of course! If we are going to take pictures, we got to look good.”

“If we are going to dress up, I think I’ll have to go buy a new yukata,” Jirou said, a small smile pulling at her lips.

Momo felt a rush of excitement. “I know a wonderful shop that sells yukatas!” She laid her hand over her chest and smiled brightly. “Why don't we go together? And anyone else who needs one is welcome to join us, of course!”

"Oh! To be expected of our Vice President," Hagakure said. Her voice was filled with admiration.

Momo’s cheeks warmed under the praise as she watched the elastic sitting on the table float up and disappear behind her head. She felt Hagakure’s fingers thread the ends of her hair through the band and release the loose braid with a snap.

“Then that settles it. The Sumidagawa festival it is!” Ashido cried, pumping her fist into the air. “Summer here we come!”

XXXXXX

Momo took a sip of her lavender tea, then tilted her head back to stare at the vase of wisteria flowers that sat on the shelf above her vanity. It had been an hour since Ashido’s summer planning meeting had ended. She should be going to bed, but her usual bedtime ritual didn’t seem to be calming her eager thoughts.

Her stomach fluttered. She dropped her gaze back down to stare blankly at the chemistry encyclopedia that laid open in front of her.

It sounded fun — going to the festival with everyone — with him.

Her hands curled tighter around her warm cup, and she smiled to herself. Last year, Todoroki had escorted her through the Ennichi festival, but they had both been too new to the experience to do anything more than explore the stalls.

Perhaps, going back this year, she could try some of the food Uraraka had mentioned, maybe even play street games. Would Todoroki want to escort her once more? Her heartbeat increased. And what if he complimented her on her yukata again?

‘It suits you.’  

Heat spread across her face, staining her cheeks pink. Momo shook her head. Placing her cup down on her desk, her lips thinned. This was going to be a class activity. A class activity. Not — whatever it was her mind seemed to be hoping for.

Momo sighed, then straightened in her chair, and forced herself to inhale slowly through her nose.

Seriously, she was in the hero course. There was no time for these sudden and confusing teenage feelings.

Momo closed her chemistry encyclopedia and pushed it to the top of her desk. Then leaned down and pulled out the blue notebook from her school bag that she had designated for class representative activities.

If she wasn’t going to go to sleep or study, the least she could do was start thinking of possible festival activities to discuss with Iida after class tomorrow. She opened her notebook to a new page and smoothed out the paper. She picked up her pen and, in careful lettering, wrote ‘Sumidagawa’ at the top.

Leaning back in her seat, Momo tapped the end of her ballpoint pen to her lip. Besides fireworks, they’d need to make sure there were enough other events to keep everyone happy.

She tried to think back to what Todoroki and she had enjoyed last year and froze. Her throat closed as she realized, with shame, that she didn’t even know if Todoroki had enjoyed the Ennichi festival.

Her stomach twisted.

Now that she thought about it, Todoroki had never suggested anything or acted in a way that might imply that he thought of the night as special or enjoyable in any way. In fact, he had even said that he had felt out of place.

Momo took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Had she just been projecting her own thoughts onto him this entire time? Could it be…had he hated it?

A sharp wave of guilt struck her, and Momo felt her stomach drop in disappointment. All this time, she had been thinking about the Ennichi festival as such a magical night without ever considering Todoroki’s feelings.

Momo opened her eyes and set her pen down on her desk. Then she slumped forward and buried her head in her arms. She was so selfish and presumptuous.

How could she have forgotten that Todoroki had revealed that he had felt out of place? Festivals were for families, he had said. And, although he had never elaborated on it, his expression had been drawn in a way that alluded to the fact that his family wasn’t on the best of terms.

Slowly, Momo sat back up. She pulled her hands into her lap and curled them into fists. Perhaps, if they were all going as a class, Todoroki would feel differently? Maybe he would have a better time than when it was just the two of them…

Momo swallowed over a lump in her throat, and set her jaw, shoving away her insecurity as she picked up her pen. She wouldn’t let herself get down.

Last year, her attending Ennichi had been a selfish, impulse decision, one she made against her mother's wishes because Uraraka and Hagakure made it sound like an experience every person should have at least once. Momo would plan better this year.

She straightened in her chair and picked up her pen again. The key to a good event was preparation. And, if there was one thing Momo excelled at, it was planning.

‘You’re good at that sort of thing.’

Momo dropped her pen with a small squeak at the unbidden memory from Todoroki and her midterm battle against Aizawa. Her heart raced. Where had that come from?

Her fingers fidgeted as they pulled her braid over her shoulder. She drew in a deep breath and absently played with the ends of her hair as she tried to calm down.

It must be her subconscious reminding Momo to trust in herself. Just as Todoroki had believed in her and voted for her to be class president - because he thought she’d be good at it. Her heart rose in her chest.

Yes. That must be it.

She breathed deeply and released her hair. Todoroki was right. Planning was her area of expertise. She could do this.

Momo squared her shoulders and picked up her pen again. She would use these emotions — the guilt and disappointment in herself — to make sure Todoroki would have the best time this year. And not just Todoroki. If this was the last chance they all had to hang out together and see fireworks, she would just have to make sure that everyone had the best time possible.

However, even as she thought this, Momo couldn’t stop her sixteen-year-old heart from beating a little faster at the idea of once again looking up at a night sky, full of fireworks, with the boy she admired most.

And maybe this time she would know for certain that he wanted to be there just as much as she did.

XXXXXX

Shouto felt his stomach do a strange flip. She was humming.

He had never heard Yaoyorozu hum before. It was quiet, barely noticeable, and he probably would have missed it if he wasn’t sitting next to her. But it wasn’t just the humming that was different. There had been a determined gleam in Yaoyorozu’s gaze all day that had drawn his attention and made his chest tighten.

Maybe he had heartburn?

He watched her from the corner of his eye as he slowly slid his pencil case into his school bag. Yaoyorozu continued to ignore him as she scribbled determinedly in a blue notebook that he recognized as the one she used for her class representative duties. Her lips curved up into a faint smile.

“Did something happen?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Yaoyorozu paused and turned to look up at him. Her dark eyes blinked innocently. “Todoroki-san?”

The school day had ended a few minutes ago, and the other students of class 2-A had already filed out. Iida had gone to use the restroom, leaving Yaoyorozu and him alone in the classroom.

Shouto had never been the type to rush, but somehow, hearing Yaoyrozu humming had slowed his feet down more than usual. His hand tightened on his notebook as he picked it up and slid it into his school bag next to his pencil kit.

“I was just wondering if something happened? You seem happier today.”

Yaoyorozu’s expression flickered, and then lit in understanding. "Mhm. I guess I am," she said, sitting back in her chair.  She tucked her loose bangs behind her ear, then raised her head. Her dark eyes glittered as they met his. “Last night, the other girls and I were discussing a possible summer outing over the holiday break — one that we could do as a class. We were thinking of scheduling an event to go see the fireworks at the Sumidagawa festival. I’m going to meet with Iida-san now to discuss the arrangements.”

Shouto nodded. He closed his bag and pulled the strap over his shoulder as he straightened. “I see. I’m sure everyone would like that.”

"Right?!"

Shouto jumped despite himself. Yaoyorozu’s hand shot up to cover her mouth.

“Sorry.” A light bashful red dusted across her cheeks. She dropped her hand and looked down at her notebook. A small, embarrassed smile tugged at her lips. "I guess I’m more excited than I thought I’d be.”

He stared at her. Something about an excited Yaoyorozu made his chest tighten. It was like the way her whole face lit up talking about chemistry — raw, unfiltered. So different than him. After a moment, the red across her cheeks deepened, and Shouto realized he was taking too long to respond.

“It’s okay,” he said, avoiding her gaze as she looked back up at him, her eyes searching his face. Shouto cleared his throat. “I think it’s good to do something as a class.”

Yaoyorozu’s expression warmed. “I agree.” Her smile returned. “I've actually gotten really into the preparation. I want this to be a memorable event, so I’m going to do my best to plan properly so everyone has a good time."

Shouto looked down at the notebook opened on her desk. A list of activities, dates, and what looked like restaurants was listed in neat calligraphy.

He snorted. She really was good at these types of things. That's why he had voted for her as class rep after all.

Yaoyorozu was a leader; she was smart, dedicated, and had always been the type to go out of her way to think of others. Even last year, when they had gone together to the Ennichi festival, she had been more concerned with his feelings than making sure she had a good time.

Shouto swallowed and curled his left hand into a fist at his side. The memory of watching the fireworks with Yaoyorozu still felt surreal.

During the sports festival, Shouto had told Midoriya what had happened with his family, but he had a purpose when he had done that. Midoriya was a rival, and Shouto needed him to understand why he was going all out to defeat him. But with Yaoyorozu, it had been the first time he had voluntarily spoken about his family to someone who was not involved. He still didn’t quite understand what had made him decide — after fifteen years — to open up that night. He had just felt comfortable.

His heart beat faster at the memory.

That’s right. Yaoyorozu was that type of person. She was dependable and could make others feel at ease.

Shouto looked back at her. Warmth spread in his chest. She really was going to be a great hero.

Yaoyorozu’s expression flickered. "What-What is it?" She reached up and touched her cheek as if feeling for something. "Is there something on my face?"

Shouto shook his head, eyes softening. "No." He felt his lips twitch. "It's just...you're amazing, Yaoyorozu."

Her eyes widened, red returning to spread across her cheeks. “Eh?”

“Planning an event so that there is something for everyone to enjoy. I’m sure you’ll be able to do it.”

“Well…I hope you will enjoy it too,” she stuttered quickly.

His lips flicked up slightly. “I’m sure I will if you’re the one planning it,” he said.

He looked up as the classroom door slid open with a clack, and Iida walked in, smiling brightly.

Shouto’s throat felt tight. He swallowed and reached up to adjust the strap of his bag, unsure why he suddenly felt annoyed by his friend’s arrival.

He rolled his jaw, as sudden impulsive words clawed up his throat.

“I look forward to escorting you again,” he said as he turned and made his way out of the classroom. His heart raced. He cleared his throat as he discreetly activated his right side to cool his suddenly warm insides.

He would definitely need to talk to Recovery Girl if this continued.

XXXXXX

Momo read over the text message again. “How does this sound?”

“Yaomomo, it’s fine.”

She looked up from her phone. Jirou was sprawled across her king-sized bed, flipping absentmindedly through a magazine advertising the latest guitar models. “You’ve read it over a hundred times already,” Jirou added in a flat voice without looking up.

Momo’s lips thinned. Then she glanced back down at the screen, scanning the text again. She was grateful Iida had graciously agreed to let her handle the details of the planning, but now that she was drafting the invite, Momo couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious about the whole thing.

What if everyone hated the restaurant she chose? Was shopping for yukatas three weeks beforehand even enough time to find the perfect one?  However, what worried her the most, sitting like a heavy, black piece of coal in the back of her mind, was what Todoroki would think of her plan - especially after telling her he’d escort her. And what exactly had he even meant by telling her he’d escort her again?

Momo bit her lip. “But what if someone has a question…”

“Then, they can ask you.” Jirou finally looked up from the magazine and met Momo’s gaze. She quirked an eyebrow. “What’s really the matter? You’ve been fidgety all evening.”

Momo sighed. “I just want the night to be perfect. I was talking to Todoroki-san earlier- ”

“What did the Ice Prince say to you?” Jirou interrupted. The bed squeaked as Jirou sat up abruptly, and her eyes narrowed. “Do you need me to slug him?”

“No!” Momo sat back in surprise. As much as she loved Jirou, Momo was still not used to how quickly she would threaten violence against the guys of their class, especially towards her new boyfriend, Kaminari.

Jirou Kyouka and Kaminari Denki had begun dating at the beginning of the year, after what had been careful persuasion, and in Momo’s opinion, an unreasonable amount of pining between the two. It had been Momo who had finally convinced Kaminari to confess to her friend.

“Todoroki-san didn’t say anything. He was very kind. He just said that if I’m the one planning, then the event will surely be enjoyable…”

Jirou’s expression relaxed. “Oh, is that it?” She sat back down and crossed her legs. “Then why are you overthinking this?”

Momo sighed. “I-I just feel so badly.” She looked down. Her fingers fidgeted with her phone.  “Last year, Todoroki-san was so kind and escorted me to Ennichi, but I was horrible and never even thought about his feelings on being there. He probably hated it...”

“You’re not horrible, Yaomomo. And I doubt he hated it if he was with you.”

“But last year he said - !" Momo hesitated, her heart sinking at the thought that her telling Jirou about him feeling out of place could be a betrayal of his confidence. "He just...didn't look like he enjoyed himself. And I'm scared that people won't enjoy this either..."

Jirou gave her a look. “Yaomomo, you’re worrying too much. First off,” she said, holding up her finger, “Todoroki wouldn’t have stayed with you if he hated it.” She raised another finger. “Second, everyone is going to have fun, no matter what happens. It will just be great to all be together.” She dropped her hand back to her lap.

“Maybe…” Momo said, avoiding Jirou’s gaze.

“Look.” One of Jirou’s earphone jacks rose in the air and pointed at Momo. “I know you are worried about Todoroki, but he isn’t the type of guy who would do something he doesn’t want to. And the fact that he stayed with you all night — when he was still just getting out of his early-roki stage — means that he wanted to see the festival just as much as you did.”

Momo nodded slowly, and then looked away to stare down at her hands for a few seconds.

Jirou exhaled through her nose. “I know there is something else on your mind. Tell me,” she coaxed, getting on her knees and crawling to the edge of the bed to sit by Momo’s chair.

Momo bit her lip. “He...” She paused for a moment. “He also said that he was looking forward to escorting me again.” Her voice was small. She could feel heat curl around her ears as she whispered the words she had been thinking about all evening.

Jirou’s eyes widened faintly. “Oh, that’s exciting,” Jirou said, leaning forward. “And what did you say?”

She shook her head. “He walked away before I could respond…."

Jirou snorted. “Well, that’s still exciting. Congratulations on finally moving forward with the Ice Prince.”

Momo felt her face grow warmer. “Co-congratulations?” Her voice squeaked slightly at the end.

“Yaomomo.” Jirou’s lips curved up into a grin. “You don’t have to be shy. You’ve liked him since forever, haven’t you?”

“Eh?” Momo cupped her face. Her cheeks were burning. “I…I don’t know what you mean.”

Her chest felt tight.

Jirou’s smile widened; she shook her head. Then she leaned forward and poked Momo’s side. “Yaomomo, you’re too cute.”

Momo wanted to hide. Did she really like Todoroki? Well, of course, she liked Todoroki. But, like ‘like’?

Was that why she had been thinking about Todoroki more? And was that why she had been overanalyzing his words all evening?

Momo’s heart rate increased. She certainly admired him and thought him an excellent student and friend, and — okay, maybe she did like Todoroki, but only… if she was going to think about it scientifically, as much as a beaker. Well, maybe a little more than a beaker. Perhaps a flask. A tall, well-made flask ...

Momo hid her face in her hands. She was ruined. How could she have not known?

“Yaomomo, you don’t have to get so flustered. Everyone knows.” She could hear the smile in Jirou’s voice.

“Everyone?” Momo asked in disbelief. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach.

“Well, everyone but Todoroki...probably. But it’s okay, since he likes you too.”

Momo dropped her hands. “You’re wrong. He couldn’t possibly like me.”

Jirou smiled surreptitiously. “I don’t know about that.”

Momo shook her head. “Even if he did like me as more than friends — which he doesn’t — he has never made any suggestions."

“What about him saying he will escort you again?”

“He didn’t mean it like that,” Momo said hurriedly. “He meant going as a class.”

Didn’t he?

Momo’s heart fluttered like hummingbird wings in her chest. No. Jirou was wrong. She was planting ideas in Momo’s head.

It was one thing for Jirou to know Momo’s heart, she was her best friend after all, but it was entirely different for her to presume to know Todoroki’s.

“Hmm,” Jirou hummed, looking at her thoughtfully. “Why don’t you just ask him, then?”

“No! I can’t.” Momo leaned forward and grasped Jirou’s hand. “And please, you can’t say anything either. Not to anyone.”

Jirou’s eyes softened. “Okay, okay. I won’t say anything. I promise.” She patted Momo’s hand.

Momo felt her shoulders relax. That was right. Todoroki didn’t like her, because if he did, that would mean Jirou was right and Momo was wrong — which wouldn’t make sense. Momo was the smartest student of their grade. There was no way that she would have missed the signs that he liked her.

Would she?

XXXXXX

Notes:

Ennichi Festival – this is from the Boku no Hero drama CD. Hagakure and Uraraka see a flier for the Ennichi festival and decide to go. They end up telling Momo and asking if she wants to join them, but Momo says she will pass because her mother doesn’t approve of street festivals. Uraraka and Hagakure then leave, and Momo wonders if she made the right decision. Feeling like she is missing out, Momo makes a yukata and goes to the festival by herself, but ends up getting nervous and is loitering by the entrance when Todoroki finds her. They end up walking around together, as neither have been to a festival before. The story ends with Momo asking if Todoroki enjoys the festival and him revealing that he feels out of place because festivals seem like something fun for families. He is about to leave when the fireworks go off. You can watch the full thing on youtube under boku no hero drama cd Ennichi festival.

Earlyroki - this is a slight spoiler for later in the manga. The class uses it to refer to Todoroki’s early emo stage of the first two seasons.

Sumidagawa festival – An actual festival in Japan. The Sumidagawa Fireworks Festival is an annual fireworks festival held on the last Saturday in July. They are known for having the biggest, most spectacular fireworks display of all Japan festivals with stunning pyrotechnic displays of over 20,000 fireworks launched in 90 minutes! (per Google)