#I mean obviously he's in denial y'know but like you can very much see in chapter 1 alone that there are feelings involved

[fernlessbastard]

Basically a summary of it's us that made this mess (especially the first chapters which are Q POV) tbh

[jinxed-sinner]

Y'know what, continuing with my potentially controversial takes, how about I finally talk about my take on Alastor and Husk's dynamic? Because I think People are exclusively looking at how Alastor reacted to Husk reminding him he's on a leash without looking at the context. And yes, you can call me delusional, in denial, whatever. But there's more context than just "Husk reminded Alastor he was on a leash and Alastor threatened him over it" that I don't see people acknowledge???

So first of all let's talk about the full context of Hazbin Hotel in regards to Alastor and Husk's relationship, not just that scene in the hallway with Husk and Alastor.

Alastor won Husk's soul in a bet, which Husk made to keep his power. Whether or not Husk still has this power is yet to be seen.

Husk doesn't hate Alastor, not as much as he acts like he does. He warns Alastor that Mimzy is using him (something I don't think he'd do unless he cared about him), still bothers to hug him when the crew finds out Alastor's fine(?) at the end of episode 8, even overall it feels like Husk has an annoyed family dynamic with Alastor and Niffty.

Alastor seems to give both Niffty and Husk a lot of freedom if they aren't doing anything for him (hell, he even gives them a fair amount of freedom if they are doing something for him). Husk isn't confined to the hotel, and he was literally at a casino gambling before Alastor summoned him to the hotel. Granted, this could've been because Husk didn't know Alastor was back, but I think if the comparisons between Alastor's treatment of Husk and Val's treatment of Angel were more accurate, Alastor wouldn't give Husk and Niffty the amount of freedom they have. Angel's freedoms come from a loophole in his contract, while Alastor doesn't seem to care what Husk and Niffty do in their spare time. Husk and Niffty feel like they're treated more like contract employees most of the time. Additionally Angel's restricted freedom is part of his abuse and something he's still not entirely away from, because Val could probably still figure out a way to get him back to V Tower 24/7 (and I'm willing to bet he will in season 2, since the Vees are going to be the main antagonists of season 2).

It's made abundantly clear throughout the first 8 episodes and the pilot that Alastor says shit to get under people's skin. Anything he says that irritates someone could go either way; he could mean it genuinely or he could be saying it to get under the skin of whoever he's talking to. I'm going to say whether Alastor meant it when he said he viewed Husk as a pet; I am going to say that it's absolutely possible that Alastor's incapable of viewing Husk as anything else, but I think it's unfair to judge Alastor's treatment of Husk on that.

Husk, in my opinion, very obviously wasn't expecting Alastor to react how he did when he reminded Alastor he's on a leash, which indicates to me that it's either incredibly rare for Alastor to lash out like that or he's never done it before, at least not specifically at Husk. Obviously, Husk knows what Alastor's capable of, because he's seen him fight Mimzy's battles for her and he's probably heard about Alastor's past. But how he responds to Alastor lashing out at him makes it feel like Alastor's never lashed out at Husk specifically. Additionally he might not have even been referring to Alastor's deal, he could've been referring to literally anything. Additionally, Alastor was already stressed as hell, he probably lashed out on impulse. Husk was also probably saying things on impulse, and crossed a boundary in doing so. I'm not saying any of that excuses Alastor's behavior, but I am saying it explains things a hell of a lot more than "Alastor actively abuses Husk on a regular basis" (in my opinion)

I don't think Husk's situation is as bad as Angel's, because if you look at it outside of that scene in the hallway in Dad Beat Dad (and even within that), it's not. Val took away a significant part of Angel's freedom, while Alastor allows Husk as much freedom as he wants. The differences in the severity of their situations something people have been pointing out since Masquerade, and by extension Loser, Baby, came out, and I still think it's worth pointing out, just not in the context of Loser, Baby because the context of Loser, Baby is Husk trying to help Angel not feel as alone (because it's basically Husk saying "You got issues? So do I, join the Losers Club!") and using similar situations (someone else owning their souls) to get his point across. I'm not saying Husk isn't traumatized by his situation; he probably is, especially after Dad Beat Dad. But Angel and Husk are in vastly different situations and have vastly different dynamics with Val and Alastor respectively.

To clarify, it might come out in later seasons and episodes that Alastor does treat Husk worse than what we've seen. But so far, what we've seen is that Husk gets a significant amount of freedom considering he doesn't own his soul, and under enough stress Alastor gets impulsive (whether or not he regrets this impulsivity is yet to be seen, but considering how he likes to be seen, I wouldn't be surprised if he does for purely selfish reasons). Husk cares enough about Alastor to warn him about a toxic and potentially dangerous friendship, and is shown to be happy when he turns Mimzy away (although this could also be just because he hates Mimzy). Even after being happy that Alastor might be dead, Husk hugs him anyway.

Unless something comes out that contradicts all this, I seriously doubt Alastor is regularly threatening Husk with tearing his soul apart like people think. Husk's reaction makes it feel like his soul being threatened is new. Like as of right now I think the worst that's going on is Alastor pushing boundaries (something he does with everyone, not just Husk, and to a fairly mild extent compared to other characters) and having Husk and Niffty work for him.

Again, I'm not saying nothing will come out in the future saying he's not abusive, but right now, when you look at all the context, he's not. Husk impulsively pushed a boundary and Alastor impulsively lashed out in retaliation.

[igotanna]

Is this a bet??

Summary: Jinyoung takes your words seriously. And he loves proving his point. You should think twice before teasing him again.

Warnings: smut, sort of orgasm denial

Genre: fanfiction, smut

Pairing: reader x park jinyoung

Rating: 18+

A/N: pic is mine

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

"Please tell me you didn't just eat that popcorn that fell into your bra..." Jinyoung sighed as he heard you munch again after a long time. He sat in his favorite armchair and didn't bother to look at you. The movie was more interesting.

"Shut up I can’t hear it now."

One would say that after three years of dating and living together, you two would stop bickering. But that was the dynamics of your relationship, and you still kinda enjoyed it this way. But sometimes he got on your nerves with his lecturing.

The movie ended and Jinyoung got up to stretch and to put the dirty dishes in the sink.

"Y'know, it was really goo-"

"It was bullshit." you cut him off.

You scrolled through your phone and didn't really pay attention to him when he came back to look at you with his 'what did you just say?' face.

"Come again?"

"I said it was bullshit. It was absolutely unrealistic during the sex scenes," you explained and sighed like him.

He frowned and sat down, now actually interested to hear your thoughts "What do you mean?"

"I mean c'mon! One could never make woman cum without touching her clit - when they were together for such a short time! You couldn't do that and we’ve known each other for quite some time now!"

You were so serious, and didn't really see the shadow of deep shock that flew over his face. He blinked a few times in disbelief. "Do you really think that?"

Putting the phone down you looked at him "Yes, it's really hard - maybe even physically impossible for a woman to cum completely without touching her clit. It's the most ac-"

"Wait," he stopped you, picking up his words and thinking your statement through "is this a bet?" His eyes pinned at your face.

You had to laugh - this was more of a "scientific" discussion for you and here he was dirty minded as usual thinking you're teasing him.

"I'm just saying,-"

"Is this a bet?" he repeated, voice lower. Now it was you blinking quickly to adjust. When he said it out loud you were even more sure - it is impossible.

"What would be the prize for the winner?" you narrowed eyes suspiciously. You knew he was able to pull your leg all the time.

"Anything." he said deadly serious.

"Anything?"

"Anything. Completely free options. If I don't make you cum without touching your clit you can make me do anything you want. One time. Make me go up on stage and do stand-up comedy, make me say something stupid in front of your mother. Whatever you say."

"And if you do make me cum?"

His expression darkened, a low-key sadistic smile flitting across his face. "Anything as well."

You laughed again, shaking your head "This is too.. too much you. I don't trust you."

"What? Whyy?" he looked at you like a surprised puppy with his big round eyes.

"Because!" you exclaimed and got up, almost shoving him off the couch. He followed you with his eyes and regained confident expression. He already knew you're in.

"Because games like these never end up in my favour!"

"Well, if it won’t end up in your favour now, I don't know when it will!" he laughed and left to take a shower. Jinyoung was well aware to give you some space to consider his proposal after presenting you a new idea or assumption.

While he was showering, you had a moment to consider your options - either way you were going to have some solid sex. And that was all you needed to head to the bathroom and lean on the shower door.

"Alright."

Jinyoung laughed and looked to where he heard your voice "So is this official?"

"Yes." you sighed, almost like he pushed you into doing it. Which he did. In his own way. "It is a bet. If you won't make me cum without touching my clit-"

"But I can be inside." he demanded

"Of course, that's not the point. Apart from touching my clit you can do whateve-"

"Careful with your words," he smirked.

"You can do almost whatever might help you make me cum." you finished strongly.

The water stopped. A muscular torso appeared next to your face and with it Jinyoung's fresh scent combined with the soap.

He looked at you, satisfaction written all over his face and dried his hair like nothing happened. Continuing to your bedroom he put the towel down and raised his voice as if he was looking for you "Are you coming?"

You walked to the room like if you were about to do a job interview, even your stomach was slightly squirming with excitement and partly with nervousness.

Jinyoung was busy adjusting the light and pulling down the curtains.

"So," his voice was low and muted, intimidating.

"I don't know what game are you playing...you simply cannot win this." you laughed and started to unbutton your shirt.

"Ah-," he stopped you before pointing at your hands – you were obviously stealing his job "Don't." his eyes found yours and he tilted his head a bit "But do repeat what you just said. C'mon."

You laughed as he got near you and slowly touched your arm with index finger sending a shiver down your spine "I said you won't make me cum."

"That's it." he whispered to himself.

You felt his body behind you, heard his breath, your hair swinging in its rhythm. By stopping you from undressing yourself he was showing you who’s in charge. You wanted to stay strong, not willing to submit to his methods you knew all too well. Something in Jinyoung’s demeanour changed, he’s going to outperform himself today you were sure of it. He's going to come up with something new, trying out stuff he always wanted to but never did. And most importantly - he’s going to take advantage of this.

His fingers moved inch by inch up to meet the inner elbow and to the hips.

"Say it again." he muttered through gritted teeth, daring you. As if searching for reasons to punish you. His warm hand roughly pushed the shirt fabric aside, forcing its way between the buttons by stealth.

"I said you can't make me cum." you said clearly, but it was undermined by the breathless gasp that escaped your mouth unwillingly. At that very moment, his hand undid the buttons and your shirt landed next to your ankles like snake's skin.

Despite the intensity he barely touched you yet.

His arm rested on your shoulder and with tips of his fingers he drew over your chest up to the collar bone. His face was so close to your ear you heard every breath and even movements of his tongue in his mouth.

The goosebumps raised across your skin excited him so much, but he kept his head clear. He knew exactly what to focus on. Having a mental list of your erogenous zones he needed to use, and saving few new ones to try out. He dug his face in your hair and kissed you below your ear. Your body reacted faster than you wanted. You crumbled into him as if he pushed some button, your knees bending a bit. But he didn't want it to be this fast.

He bit your earlobe in warning.

Surprised by his nip, your hand went up for revenge but his was quicker, smacking yours away like annoying insect.

Sliding his palms down to your panties he slowly pulled down. You felt a sudden gust of coldness as he kneeled down and your back were left unprotected. His heart started to beat faster as your panties revealed your bum. He couldn’t stop himself from pressing his lips on your left butt cheek. It took you by surprise – he never was this gentle. Still only with the tips of his fingers on your sides, he got up. Parting your hair and putting them on one side he uncovered his most favorite part of your body – the nape of your neck.

He pushed you to the bed.

Enough of warming up.

"However bad it's going to be..." his voice was dark, wild and almost aggressive because of the long silence "Rule is- you can't touch your clit either." he said locking eyes with you.

"It's either me making you cum," he continued and leaned on his elbows above you, only inches above your face, "or nothing." you opened your mouth to kiss back, but he pulled away. Pressing lips on your neck and going down, between your breasts, your belly.

You felt yourself getting wett, heat pooling in anticipation.

The thing is - it was usually never this slow - Jinyoung was more of a rough, fierce sex type. He didn't need any time to prep and wasn't really a fan of foreplay. Lube was always there to fix everything.

But now- he was careful, sensual, paying attention to details - dancing with his fingers on the inner side of your knee. You almost forgot this place was so sensitive. He harmonized the feeling with his lips on your thigh, temptingly close to the clit.

Closing your eyes you didn't watch what he's doing - just bathed yourself in the feelings.

He was already almost rock hard, given the sight of you closing your eyes with pleasure. He had to focus on the edge of his limits. It was so tempting to imprison you in his arms, to thrust into you, deeply and fully.

But a bet is a bet, and he had his plan.

You felt like you were ready for him, so much so you unknowingly spread apart more. His hand moved your leg up to rest on his hips, facing you again. Still not opening your eyes, you turned your head a bit to make him space for more neck kisses.

As his hands pulled yours up above your head, his fingers intertwined with yours.

Jinyoung left the best for last – he finally pressed his body fully on you, and inch by inch dived in you. You heard him smirk as he found it amusing how easily he could slide in as you were already so wet and open for him.

He moved slowly. Not just because he knew it’s stimulating, but because he focused on your nipples. He knew you were sensitive, and it helped him on many occasions to make you cum. Kissing, licking and carefully biting them he took you on the edge of pain and pleasure. Your fingers found his hair and you wanted to pull it, to participate somehow. But he was the leader here and immediately put your hands back in place – above your head.

It was all so good.

His breath so close to your neck, the heat from his body. The precision he moved with, how much attention he paid to you. How he held your jaw like he needed it to breathe.

But something was missing, the tension just kept cumulating and piling up, peak nowhere in near sight. You could even feel yourself stretching your arm up, as if to grab the orgasm that was just inches away.

But apparently your other hand headed down again because Jinyoung smacked it angrily "Don't even try it." thrusting in over and over.

"Fuck the bet, I want-"

"Rules!" he hissed as his movements quickened. Placing hand on the concave of your neck and shoulders, he squeezed a bit as a warning.

You bit your lip in frustration and pleasure. He bend down and kissed your jaw, following with his mouth parting yours, being dominant even now. Leaving you only to wait for his next move. Pulse racing, he repeatedly broke the kiss to look at you, to burn this exact picture of you into his mind.

Feeling him inside, holding your hand up, your breasts on his chest... everything felt like a flash of a fire, but the flame didn't appear. You almost fell his heart beating in your own veins.

He was close, so close.

Face next to yours, his lips found the spot below your ear again, biting the earlobe.

Breathing faster you knew it was coming.

Was he right? Can he do that? C'mon just a bit more- it's so close.

But he suddenly stopped moving, head buried in your hair heavily breathing. You tried to keep up with the wave of pleasure that was inside of you, waiting to be released, you tried so hard to slide it on your own. But it was gone. He was gone, leaving you in the water searching for a way out.

As he rolled down from you letting you alone with the helplessness and frustration he propped on one hand and looked at you "You were right." he caught his breath and put away lock of hair from your neck.

"You did it on purpose! You knew I was close!" you cried out loudly, hands rubbing your face.

"Yes." he admitted, glad you revealed the truth.

Looking directly at you like a teacher wanting his answer he asked "Lesson?"

After the minute of silence you gave to spite him, you felt a quick, light smack on your thigh. "Never. Try me out again."

[mallowstep]

📖 (foxstride)

ask thingy

@foxstride

okay i mentioned this to you on discord but i didn't go into it but. okay. okay. the au where mistyfoot is hawk, moth, and tadpole's mother. this has been just. it's been chewing on my brain and i don't know when i'm going to write it so since u gave me a blank canvas, i'm going to ramble about it for as long as i can.

cw: implied/referenced sexual assault; brief suicidal ideation; standard tigerclan content (abuse, child abuse, starvation, dehumanization, etc.); referenced force feeding

okay oh my gosh okay. this has. so obviously i've been thinking about riverclan lately. a lot. it's rcam. anyway. i don't want. i'm trying to get to the point and not loop around aimlessly for two hundred words but okay but okay. anyway.

i've been thinking of all the different ways i can deeply traumatize misty, storm, and feather. and maybe stone. maybe i'll let stone live at some point. that'd be fun.

right so i've been thinking of that and my ideas are all over the place. i'm going to let primrosepaw live at some point. at one point i'm going to have stormpaw, and maybe primrosepaw or reedpaw (and...what's the other one? is it perchpaw or pikepaw? whatever) the point is i'll have some collection of stormpaw and some or all of mistyfoot's kits escape but not misty and feather so we can do survivor's guilt and.

anyway so i was writing the excerpt for the primrosepaw is definitely there au (it's kind of not Tethered because most of these aren't mutually incompatible like that au could be any of the others), and tigerstar has that dialogue about kits yeah?

so when i was writing it, i was thinking about just. he's trying to dehumanize all of them, right? that's his goal with that line. he's separating mistyfoot from her kits, trying to erase the meaning of their relationships. that's like. that's what i was considering when i was writing it.

buuuuuuut. y'know. my brain is chewing on it. and it just. hm. Hm. what if. what If tadpole, moth, and hawk were misty and tiger kits. hm. hmm. hm.

and so i am just instantly. very on board with this. there's so much potential.

so i Think the point of canon divergence is the rescue attempt. i haven't decided if stormpaw is successfully rescued or not. featherpaw doesn't for reasons i'm circling around to, but stormpaw may or may not. it certainly Matters in a broad sense but i haven't made up my mind, and i doubt i'm going to write Multiple aus about this. i mean i might u never know but it'd b like writing an alternate stolag: i mean i suppose i Could but it would feel weird.

okay almost burnt my dinner i said i'm very this has just been slowly rotting my brain out. i like Angst and it's been a while since i've written any.

okay there was fmtws but really that got me started. i'm not a fluff person. and y'all know that by now.

so Back On Topic. so Anyway after the rescue attempt fails/partially fails, tigerstar takes his anger out at the apprentices being Alive on featherpaw and she gets to. uh. help tigerclan practice fighting.

"Let me see her," Mudfur hissed. "No," Tigerstar said. "I've told you." Mudfur growled. Featherpaw dragged herself to her feet, and Mistyfoot glanced back at her. They would leave they would leave they would leave and then she could lie down again and try not to think. "You're not my leader," Mudfur said, and Featherpaw winced. Mistyfoot could see what was going on, but she was sitting still as a stone. Mudfur pressed into their — Mudfur pressed in, laying a wrapped bundle at Mistyfoot's feet. "Let me—" "No," Mistyfoot said. "Just go." Mudfur dipped his head. Tigerstar's steps moved away from them, but the shouts and arguments surrounding Mudfur were just buzzing noise in Featherpaw's head. She made out, "She's going to die," and she thought, that wouldn't be the worst thing.

thank You featherpaw. you will suffer for the au as a whole. anyway this takes place...i'm not Quite sure but mistyfoot does have a reason for not letting mudfur in. and that reason is she is in Denial about being pregnant.

if mudfur comes in he'll know (i have not forgotten that cats can smell unlike the erins), and mistyfoot is acting in denial. altho she rationalizes it to herself as being for mudfur's protection: runningnose is a medicine cat too, and so tigerstar could off mudfur without much effort.

(also i tend to mix up mudfur and mudclaw sometimes understand i am talking about the riverclan medicine cat, not the windclan deputy. i just mistype them sometimes.)

anyway so she has a legitimate reason (mudfur's continual survival, which is better for her and featherpaw longterm), and she does not want mudfur to know.

yeah.

all in all, this happens before the great battle. mistyfoot fights in it (again, denial), featherpaw and stormpaw are reunited (yes i think i made up my mind), (wait maybe stonefur lives too, and then both pairs of siblings reconnect, and stonefur is like "oh Shit" and. okay yes. maybe. i don't know.)

(there's a Lot. ohh maybe. wait best of both worlds okay. mistyfoot Thinks stonefur is dead. but stonefur doesn't get a proper burial but at the same time riverclan is Not going to go for their deputy on bonepile and even if they do go for it, they're not going to stripe his bones nor are they going to let a Physical Cat Corpse rot in camp. so when firestar and greystripe rescue stormpaw, stormpaw Insists they go back for his body, and then they realize he's Alive but obviously mistyfoot doesn't know.)

(there then i get the Best of both worlds. and stonefur and feathertail are in the Chronic Pain club.)

(also the thing w/ fighting is also what happens in "someday when the world is much brighter". not that Particular scene or in that Particular way, but it does happen. i mean almost exactly in that particular way. but that scene is from a different fic.)

anyway okay moving on i did add too much chili powder to my dinner but that's fine i'm still not over when someone refused to give me more harissa because "it's spicy" like yes i know i guarantee my mom makes it spicier.

back on topic sorry. i've been writing this as i do other things bc i have so much to say about this and i don't want to wait for tomorrow to share this because it's been just Rotting away my brain.

anyway so siblings reunite. it's...terse. it's complicated.

there's some parallels going on right? like because both featherpaw and stormpaw are basically in the mindset of looking after their mentors (which mistyfoot and stonefur feel Terrible about), everyone has survivor's guilt (i don't know what to call like, survivor's guilt when it's not actually survivor's guilt so if someone has a correct word please let me know) except for Maybe featherpaw.

featherpaw might be the Only one here who doesn't have survivor's guilt. i don't really want to explore the one way she could end up with it. that's past my comfort level at the moment.

but stormpaw and mistyfoot are the most physically healthy, and stormpaw and stonefur escaped.

stormpaw: i have not been hurt by this in any way

everyone around stormpaw: you have definitely been hurt by this

stormpaw: i have not been hurt by this in any way

stormpaw and featherpaw become warriors, leopardstar makes mistyfoot deputy (because stonefur is still recovering and also no longer wants the position. mistyfoot doesn't either but she's in denial and she doesn't want anyone else to have it. mistyfoot is visibly pregnant and still kind of in denial at this point. like it's been at least a moon and she is refusing to talk about it.)

right so i think stormpaw's name is going to be stormheart because i don't know it was always weird to me that stormfur and stonefur have the same suffix. like given Everything that's going on it feels weird to me. ig it'd actually be less weird in this, given that stonefur is still alive, but do you know How Close stonefur and stormfur are. they're one consonant cluster off. they're One consonant cluster off.

so leopardstar names him stormheart. feathertail can keep her name because it's pretty.

mistyfoot is a moon away from kitting. she refuses to talk about it. to anyone. whatsoever.

feathertail and stonefur decide to stage an intervention.

(they leave stormheart out not because he's not part of the found family, but because mistyfoot literally will not tolerate a single word about this. like a single word. like she will growl at you if you look at her stomach for too long.

so given the fairly high odds that mistyfoot gets violent, they keep stormheart out of it. she's the least likely to attack stonefur and feathertail.

stormheart finds out about this later and is like "do you guys realize if this went south you had absolutely 0 control over the situation. like what are you guys going to do. you incapable of doing anything to stop her if something goes wrong."

feathertail is like "yes. that's the point."

feathertail is both kind of right and also very internally messed up from being used for "training" when she wasn't allowed to fight back. feathertail also hates if you call her by just her prefix. she does not tell anyone this. misty is aware of this, and she tells stone and storm, and riverclan does eventually figure it out. plus it's not like feathertail is close enough to anyone else for them to call her "feather".

okay i'm getting off topic sorry i've been working on a tpb thing for swtwimb, and the one scene i have is cats making fun of her for not fighting back (again she is not allowed to they might kill her if she does), so they call her "featherkit" and that eventually gets brought down to feather and i'm rambling anyway On topic again.)

so stonefur and feathertail are like. "mistyfoot you are like. a half moon away from kitting. it is impairing your ability to do warrior duties. you need to like. acknowledge this."

anyway after a very terse conversation. after a veeery terse conversation, where mistyfoot is like. very close to just absolutely abandoning riverclan. they get her to admit that yes she is pregnant and yes she needs to stop doing warrior duties for the moment.

she wasn't exactly Healthy when she was pregnant because even tho tigerstar made a Point of making her like. eat enough to be healthy and also not violently attacking her. she had still been starved for...idk long enough for her ribs to show. i'm not sure what the exact timeline on this is yet.

also then After Tigerclan she did not eat as much as she should have because (a) denial and (b) she had been forcefed and so now she's. not doing that.

oh wow i've written long enough for my grammar checker to turn off again. that hasn't happened in ages.

all bets are off from here on out re grammar and spelling.

okay so mistyfoot isn't going to move into the nursery. i believe mosspelt has had a litter of 3 kits, or will have one as we see in asir, but mistyfoot isn't. she's not moving into it. stone, misty, storm, and feathertail share a den. no one else is allowed into it for Any Reason.

so anyway, they expand the den. riverclan as a whole might? i'm not sure who's good at weaving bc i don't have headcanons for this time period. probably not feathertail, but possibly stonefur. hm. anyway, they expand the den, mistyfoot will raise the kits in this den, everyone is on board with this.

mostly because it's this or mistyfoot like. runs away. which obviously no one wants. riverclan is on the side of...the four? riverclan is on the side of the four. even if they're not like, even though the four don't trust them, feathertail and misty especially (stone and storm tolerate it much better). but even tho things are complicated, riverclan is certainly going to do actions. they're certainly going to try to demonstrate their support.

okay so mistyfoot gives birth to her kits, and she is. not feeling good. about it. she's feeling terrible about it actually. she's feeling terrible about things. she doesn't want to name them.

usuuually in this situation, after the queens (collective) decided its in the best interest of the kits to be raised by someone other than their birth mother, the kits would be given to another queen.

but see. feathertail, stonefur, and stormheart are All attatched to these kits. deeply attatched to them. and mistyfoot is not willing to give them up either.

so mistyfoot isn't willing to give them up to another riverclan queen, and feathertail, stone, and storm all Want to raise them, and also don't want to give them to another queen.

the queens confer with mudfur that it is absolutely the worst possible thing they could do to forcibly remove the kits from mistyfoot. like that is the Worst option. they'd be lucky to get the kits alive, feathertail and mistyfoot are likely to abandon riverclan, and if misty and feathertail abandon riverclan, stone and storm will follow.

they're stuck in a standstill for a while. the four eventually do name them hawkkit, mothkit, and tadpolekit. the kits are about a moon old and ready to be weaned. mistyfoot is still extremely tense about the affair, but she's willing to part with them. she's able to recognize that's in the best interest of the kits, mosspelt's litter is about the same age, moving them into the nursery is going to give them a more normal upbringing, everyone is on the same page.

feathertail, who's having a lot of self worth issues, decides that moving into the nursery is her best bet for clan usefulness (which (a) feathertail you cannot keep up with kits and (b) the whole Place she's in is bad to begin with), moves in with them.

the kits decide feathertail is their mother now (they're old enough to understand that she didn't give birth to them, altho i haven't decided if they remember misty as their mother and if they're told any information re their birth parents depends exactly What kind of angst i want to write), and feathertail is. okay with this.

unlike asir, she's not blindsided with the tigerstar-is-their-father reveal, so she does have some issues with hawkkit reminding her of tigerstar, he's not really her Big Bad Trauma Nightmares. she has way more issues with the riverclan warriors directly involved in her abuse.

anyway, i don't know what happens tnp era stuff. i haven't gotten that far yet. maybe this will be another au where hawk and/or moth is a prophecy cat. i'm not sure. i haven't gotten farther than this.

but here you go i started writing this like an hour and a half ago and while i did stop to eat, i also just finally put everything i have for this au on one page and i hope and pray that will stave off the brainrot until i have a chance to actually write it.

[flydotnet]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. I don’t have any request left, so feel free to send in suggestions for this card!).

Like blood on a patch of fresh snow.

I'm not sure of where this fic went, but... oh well. I don't want to look at it for much longer, so here y'all go, 1.9K words of whatever this is. I really wanted to write more NaomiLG because I love them, but I realize I'm really not their best writer, so I need to hone my skills. Take this weird-ass oneshot with a very specific and picturesque prompt as an attempt to nail them. It was fun to imagine all of the red-on-white imagery, at least. Title comes from a Rammstein song because it played while I was writing this and I figured, y'know, it means "red rose", so why not make it the title? It at least sounds epic to someone like me who knows shit about German. No correlation to the lyrics, though, far from it lmao.

-----------

Rosenrot

Summary: Naomi's past catches up to her in a street as someone else's blood spills for her.

Fandom: Trauma Team (spoilers for TC:SO and TT) Ship: Naomi/Little Guy

Wordcount: 1.9K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo​

AO3 version available here.

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Like a widow who had lost her spouse, Naomi started wearing black after losing her ability to save lives. Back then, she didn’t really know why, probably to remind her of the sins she still had to expiate. It felt weird to her to wear white again, since it kept reminding her of the life she had to leave behind, that of a lifesaver whom people trusted with literally all they had left.

Even now, even as her life has gone back on track (she has a stable job, a daughter and friends who hold her in great esteem – things she thought she’d never have until a year ago), she continues wearing black because it feels more comfortable to be able to fade back into the shadows would she ever need to slip back into the night. She can’t ever live in the broad daylight, not anymore she knows this; but, as long as Alyssa doesn’t mind, then she doesn’t have a reason to complain. The cold and silence have their perks.

 Wearing black, at first, was to hide stains when she was working with Delphi. God knows there was little hygiene there, so blood could easily show on clothing when they weren’t careful. Wearing black robes (or whatever outfit they had given her that looked very little like a robe) allowed them to conceal the dark reds and rusts more easily without having to think about it too much. Out of sight, out of mind, she supposed.

On the other hand, blood is too visible on white. Of course, it is the point of wearing it for surgical procedures, since it’s easier to disinfect – it’s still too visible for people like Delphi or, in a way, her. Even to this day, seeing reddish stains on white fabric makes her uneasy, reminding her of things she’d much rather never think about again. She’s like the black-clad widow staring at the radiant bride with a wine stain on her dress: she knows what she lost and has the feeling of seeing a bad omen.

 There is this one thing about Delphi she has stopped minding, and it’s Little Guy, or whatever his real identity was supposed to be. If he reminded her of their dark past not too long ago, he now represents what they could become: atoners, working for “the right side” for once, working in the shadows to help the living move on like they’ve had to. Unlike her, he didn’t let himself dwell on the past, preferring to get moving.

The moment she understood it the most when he started to wear white more than black, renouncing to the colour she was always used to see him dress. It felt weird, at first, but he knew how to pull it off, and she got used to the new habits. Never dwell on the past, let herself get swiped away by the changing winds. Moreover, Alyssa really liked it whenever he’d drop by the house after driving her home after work or getting Alyssa from school when she couldn’t.

 But now, the past has caught back to them. Ex-Delphi members have found them again, motivated by the recent rise (and fall, but they forgot about that second time) of Adam’s nephew trying to bring the virus back right as PGS cases flare up across the USA. They’re not running away, this time: she did that enough when going to seek amnesty in Europe, so now, she better prepare herself to strike. Little Guy already cocks his FBI-licenced gun out, intending to strike judging by the little tremors in his fingers.

It goes in a flash: a couple bangs, blood spilling on the ground, dirt and smoke and iron fill the air of an urban cul-de-sac. The commotion is such that it’s difficult to follow anything until the stench of violence lifts up and so does the smog it created. For a moment, she believes they may have both gotten killed, and that she’s already passing into the afterlife, in denial of everything, not ready to face death nor discover if there is, indeed, something on the “other side” that isn’t roaming around this world and calling the “voodoo hotline”.

 One thing quickly becomes clear: she is still alive. In fact, everyone is somehow still alive, because she sees their three assailants with their weapons on the floor and wounds in their legs: they were only harmed to disarm them. She pats her own clothes and body to check if she hasn’t been injured, remembering reflexes she had thought long gone coming back to her in a moment’s notice. To her fortune, she seems okay, as she only feels dirt, dry clothing and skin under her fingers’ touch.

 Seeing the men lie on the ground in pain, she already grabs her phone and calls for help, going into not too many details for everyone’s safety and privacy.

“Little Guy,” she starts calling to her partner so they can get away from this place before being brought into this, her finger about to swipe the call off, “let’s go.”

His response is delayed.

“Sure… Sure thing.”

His voice sounds strangled and hesitant, drier than her clothes, and it prompts her to turn around. As soon as she does, however, her own breath gets caught in her throat as her entire body tenses up. Her mind, which was until now fixated on running as far as possible from the scene before they were going to be questioned about the bullets in their pursuers’ limbs, immediately switches to the same sort of panic she felt in Caduceus Europe all those years ago when she witnessed a fellow surgeon collapse in pain.

Little Guy!

 He’s sitting on the ground, back against the wall that cornered them until now, a hand loosely holding onto his gun, the other barely holding onto a striking red stain on his clear, monochrome attire. It’s expanding moment after moment, replacing the immaculate white of his shirt and suit jacket with a much darker colour. If it was only the bloodstained clothes, it’d have been fine, no matter how much this man frets over such things – but it’s not what is scaring her so much about this.

“Little Guy, what happened?!”

As he struggles to get an answer out, she takes his pulse: there, obviously, since he’s breathing, but weakening. His breathing is quick but shuddering, as if fragile like glass.

“One… one of them was armed,” he replies, swallowing every few words. “One bullet hit… my flank, I think?”

Not caring for the nail polish Alyssa put on her fingers last night, Naomi digs under the bloodstained jacket and where the incriminated wound must be. There, she confirms Navel’s suspicions: it’s indeed in his flank.

“If my assumption is correct, it shouldn’t have hurt an organ,” she says, a little bit of relief pulsing through her. “We need to get you into a hospital asap, though, you’re bleeding profusely.”

 She grabs back her phone, which she previously slipped into her pocket, and adds the information on a fourth wounded. She gives more information on their location and the circumstances, merely forgetting to mention this is all because of Delphi’s doings and their smothered shady pasts, and stays on the line, putting the phone in speaker mode so she doesn’t miss crucial information.

“You should go, Dr Kimishima,” Navel whispers, eyes getting glassy and unfocused, the speed at which this happens prompting her to check the wound again. The blood has spread even further, making the fabric stick to the wound. “Don’t… let them catch up to you.”

“You’re an idiot if you think I’m leaving you for dead. Plus, I’d rather have to search for amnesty again than get pursued for not helping someone in critical need.”

It’s the pragmatic way to say she’d never handle having his blood on her hands and his death on her conscience. He, however, doesn’t reply, letting uncomfortable silence install itself as they wait for assistance to arrive.

 When they do, the sirens’ shrills muffle Navel’s breathing, lights almost covering the blood stains on his suit and her fingers, slipping under her nails, drying out already.

It could, however, never erase the image from her mind.

  -----------------------

Naomi waits in this bedroom, all alone and in silence, for a little while. She doesn’t know how long exactly (probably around half an hour, although it feels like more than that), all she knows is that the chair she’s sitting on isn’t very comfortable and that she needs to remember when to pick Alyssa from school; two things that, for the moment being, don’t matter much.

The weather is beautiful, today. Even earlier, when they were outside, there was a gentle breeze blowing through their hair. She merely forgot about it due to thinking about literally anything else under the sun, mostly her colleague whom she found out wasn’t just randomly hit during the kerfuffle. To be fair, she should’ve guessed that was what had happened when she suddenly found herself on the ground rather than standing, but…

 She suddenly hears Little Guy stirring and, finally, opening an eye. His injuries were fortunately not as grievous as she was afraid they’d be, even if he’s clearly landed himself for at least a week in the hospital. What an idiot.

“Doc… Doctor Kimishima…?”

“Go back to sleep, Little Guy, you still sound like you’ve pulled a week-long all-nighter.”

As if obeying her (but most likely because losing this much blood tends to leave you weak, and his corpulence isn’t exactly one that’d take kindly to blood loss), his eyelids flutter; but he doesn’t go back to sleep. At least, not yet.

 “Are you okay…?” He asks, voice recovering some clarity, even if it’s unlike his usual swagger.

“I’m pretty sure I should be the one asking you that, you know; but I’m okay. Better off than you, that’s for sure.”

He chuckles once before groaning in pain.

“Urgh, I forgot how sore post-surgery was…”

“You’ll get used to it. Believe me, I know.”

“I’m sure you do, Dr Kimishima.”

 She drops the playful banter for something else altogether.

“Oh, and, Little Guy?”

“Yes…?”

“Never do that again. I don’t want to see you covered in your own blood again.”

His face, which is slowly regaining more colour, distorts a little.

“Even if…”

“Even if it means saving my life.”

He looks aside, in silence. She guesses he’s unable to honestly give her the answer she wants to hear, so he instead prefers not to say anything. Well, that’s something she expected would happen: people have told her he was wrapped around her little finger. Too bad that this man got infatuated with someone like her whom death and misfortune follow her every step. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, considering the number of close calls he found himself in when he was by her side. You sometimes have to wonder what other people even think…

“I’ll… I’ll try,” he eventually replies.

 Naomi can’t stay upset about it forever, especially when she sees how dishevelled and vulnerable he looks with his hair askew, dark rings under his eyes and hospital gown, so far from the sharply-dressed bachelor she’s come to appreciate.

“Good. Just be careful and we’ll be clear.”

“Sure thing, ma’am.”

As long as he doesn’t mind being so close to death, she’ll make sure he doesn’t meet it.

[tonystarkbingo]

TSB Discord Party 3 Prompt Summary Game

How to play: we all took turns throwing in three prompts, and then everyone turned those prompts into a fanfic blurb or summary.

phone, blanket, "nope" - suggested by @rebelmeg

@fightingforcreativity - "Tony put your phone away," came a sleepy voice from beside Tony. Because Steve wanted, needed to sleep for a few hours now, he finally had given up on being nice to his newly wed spouse. "Nope" 'That is a war declaration!', the blond thought and decided to do the one thing Tony had told him the genius hated. Steve tucked the blankets away and hooked them.

@rebelmeg - The thud of the phone hitting the floor clinched it for Tony. "Nope." Today was going to be a bad day. Curling up further under the blanket, he decided to dedicate his immediate future to a nap, and to hell with everything else. "Nope. No adulting today. Nope."

@jamesbuckystark - "Nope. Can't today." Tony says and hangs up the phone. He crawls back under the blanket fort where Morgan is waiting for him. It's Daddy/Daughter Day

@somesortofitalianroast - Bucky was bundled up in a blanket on the couch with some hot chocolate. He checked his phone, and saw that it was snowing outside. “Nope,” he said to himself, “not going for a walk.”

@darthbloodorange - Steve pulls the blankets further over his head. "No." 

Tony laughs at the images his husband made, wrapped up in their blankets. "Steve, you can't just ignore a call from the Secretary of Defence." He says. 

"Well, I am." comes a grumble from within the blankets. 

"Steve" He wheezes. "That's not very Captain America of you" 

"Don't care. I'm on vacation. Don't want to. Nope."

apples, cats, Science - suggested by @fightingforcreativity

@saganarojanaolt - "Unlike most cats, Alpine was well behaved. Except when there was something in his place by the window. It didn't matter what it was, if it was there it got dropped. Spices for cooking, flowers to liven up the place, apples to ripen, science books to study, didn't matter. It got summarily pushed off. So Alpine could take his rightful place. "

@menatiera - Cats were known to dislike citrus fruit. So Tony wouldn't have been surprised to find out Bucky's cat disliking oranges and such. Instead, Alpine decided that he absolutely hates apples with furious passion. Tony obviously needs Science to answer why. And if he gets to spend some more time with Bucky while conducting experiments with his cats, well, that's just a happy coincidence.

@rebelmeg - Dum-E was very excited. It wasn't every day Ton-E let a Kit-E into the lab, and today there were two Kit-E's. One of them was chewing on Bruc-E's airpods, but Dum-E knew that was okay. Ton-E liked to tease Bruc-E about his bad apples.

@jamesbuckystark - There was a flash, and now instead of Rhodey, Bruce, Peter, and Harley in the lab with him, there are two cats and two apples, all with unimpressed eyes looking at him. "This is not magic! It's science, I swear!" Tony pleads. "I'll fix this!"

@somesortofitalianroast - Tony was working in his lab, cranking out music, when two things happened: Alpine jumped up on his work bench, and Dum-E somehow got a hold of an apple, which he promptly threw at Tony. Hilarious ensues.

@darthbloodorange - Steve looks down at the mess of apples on the lab floor and sighs. He knew better than to ask at this point, but he does anyway. "Why?" "Science!" Tony says, as if it should be obvious. Socrates knocks another apple from down from the shelf, watching as it lends on the floor with a wet crunch. "See!"

dragon, hotel, blue - suggested by @saganarojanaolt

@jamesbuckystark - Rhodey blinks his eyes. In front of him is a hotel with a red dragon standing in front. "Do you have the courage to wear the Blue Tunic of Valor and save the prince?" It rumbles. Rhodey looks up. In the penthouse is Tony, dressed in a beautiful gown.

@menatiera - Being turned into a dragon is generally not a horrible thing. Dragons are cool, majestic and all that. Even if blue is not really Tony's color, he could say at least ten other things from the top of his head to happen to him that would be worse than having his color scheme messed up in a magical animal transformation. Still. Being turned into a dragon in the middle of the hotel lobby on his honeymoon is still rude.

@rebelmeg - "Pepper, there is a dragon in my hotel room. No, you did not mishear me. Yes, Pepper, there is a dragon in my hotel room. NO, I DIDN'T DO IT! ...at least, I don't think I did... Pepper, stop shouting. Pepper. Pepper. Pepper. Oh, for the love-- PEPPER! Hi. Yes, I'm shouting, and so are you! Are too. Are too. Are-- hey! Just because I regularly play with things I shouldn't doesn't mean the gigantic lizard with pretty blue scales is automatically my fault! No, don't call Stephen. Pepper. Pepper, no, he'll just get all uppity like he does, you know how I-- DAMN IT, PEPPER."

@gavilansblog - His room in the Blue Dragon Hotel wasn't blue. It was an off-white beige color. Also, it had no dragons. Well, that was just rude, Tony thought, staring at the nondescript fruit bowl print over the bed. The least a Blue Dragon Hotel could do is have, y'know, a blue dragon. Tony sat down on the bed, then jumped up with a yelp as something nudged the backs of his legs. He turned and looked in completed befuddlement as a blue snout poked out from under the bed, followed by a very definitely draconic little body. Well, that did explain the name.

@somesortofitalianroast - “Pepper. Did you really make reservations at the Blue Dragon Hotel?” 

“Yes, Tony. I did. Why?” 

“Because it’s an RV park, not a 5-star hotel.”

@darthbloodorange - (Iron Man Noir!) Tony sits down on the edge his hotel bed with a huff. He pulls the large, blue scale out of his travel bag, turning over it in his hands. It had been months now, but Tony wasn't about to give up on the search for the dragon that saved his teams life. (Dragon!Steve?)

enlightment, postcard, chocolate - suggested by @menatiera

@jamesbuckystark - Tony got some interesting mail today... from Victor von Doom. He got a postcard and a chocolate heart. BE DOOM'S "Well this is a time of enlightenment," he muses

@menatiera - 'Willy Wonka is behind the dementor attacks because he wants to sell more chocolate.' Well. Postcards are usually not the format for these kind of enlightments to go, especially not postcards without names to them. Tony turns the paper in his hand, deep in thought, then mentally shrugs, because why not? It's not the weirdest thing he's heard. And he can relieve his nerdy days while investigating for clues in a fictional book series for proof or denial of this statement.

@rebelmeg - "riddle me this, jarvis," tony said as he turned over the postcard in his hand. "how precisely did someone manage to make an actual postcard out of chocolate and send it through the mail intact?" 

"perhaps you should bite it and find out." jarvis replied pertly.

with a roll of his eyes, tony had to tell the idiot side of his brain to sit down and shut up. "y'know j, i think you might be spending too much time around harley." 

"blasphemy. i'm a perfectly enlightened being that needs no outside interference to contribute to my sass." 

tony choked on his bite of postcard.

@somesortofitalianroast - It wasn’t any day that Steve got a postcard in the mail. Especially not one that was addressed to him and didn’t get bundled up with the rest of his fan mail. This postcard was completely blank, except what appeared to be a chess move, but he wasn’t sure. The front of the postcard had a picture of a chocolate store in Ukraine with the tagline “find chocolate enlightenment in Kyiv.”

@darthbloodorange - It's no secret that out of all of them Tony was the Chocolate hoarder. While Tony is away on a business trip the Avengers raid Tony's chocolate stores. But while searching for chocolate they find some enlightening postcards, postcards that reveal a more better kept secret between Tony and Steve.

Dreams, Wheel, and Dynamite - suggested by @jamesbuckystark

@rebelmeg - "just think, rhodey. a huge wheel of fireworks and dynamite. it's what dreams are made of!" tony's eyes were wide, sparkling with mania, and rhodey was justifiably concerned. "tony, i don't think you should watch mythbusters anymore."

@somesortofitalianroast - In his dream, he was in a tour bus. He was watching the band, some playing cards, some reading, some sleeping, but no one seemed to notice him. The movement of the wheels of the bus was hypnotic, as was the guitarist gently strumming on an acoustic guitar. The singer, half asleep with a book, started singing along. He couldn’t make out most of the words, but he seemed to be singing about dynamite. Interesting choice for a lullaby, but Steve wasn’t complaining. The singer looked right at him, paused in his singing. “You should wake up now.”

@27dragons - Tony was usually much more careful around dynamite than Pepper gave him credit for. Sure, he sometimes played it fast and loose with safety, but actual dynamite was no laughing matter. So it absolutely was not his fault that the charge blew early, before he had a chance to get back behind the protective barrier, he would like that understood. But regardless of whose fault it was, he had a concussion, a ringing in his ears that wouldn't go away, and every time he drifted off to sleep he was having the most peculiar dreams -- or rather, dream: a single dream, over and over, of a giant wheel covered with beautiful blue-steel eyes that stared at him in shock. "I think," he told Pepper when she came to check him out of the hospital, "that I've met my guardian angel."

@jamesbuckystark - "I had the weirdest dream," Tony rubs his head. "I was a contender on Wheel of Fortune, and Pat Sajek told me I didn't win even though the phrase was 'Made from dynamite and daisies.' And I knew what the phrase was!"

@darthbloodorange - Tony is sure he was having a bad dream when he walks into his lab to find Steve fastening explosives to the wheels of his motorcycle. "Wheels shouldn't need dynamite to turn!" Tony cries, throwing his hands into the air. "I can't believe you're making me say this but Steve, this is too dangerous. That's too much firepower, you're going to be blown into space!"

"Well, I've always dreamt of being an astronaut." Steve says, grinning.

varenyky, U2, dancing - suggested by @somesortofitalianroast

@jamesbuckystark - "Is this what all galas are like?" Bucky asks, eyes wide. "No," Tony examines his nails. "U2 never plays a set for galas. They only dance at the Christmas ones, and I have never seen varenyky on the buffet table."

@rebelmeg - tony wiggled his booty as he danced around the kitchen, singing along to U2 and putting frozen pierogis on a plate.

"shaking what your mama gave you?" nat asked as she came into the room, smiling as he waggled his eyebrows at her. 

"you betcha. want a pierogi?" he rattled the frozen dumplings on the plate. "gonna microwave some." 

natasha's eyes narrowed, then she was storming across the room and seizing the plate. "i am absolutely not letting you eat that." 

tony whined as she dumped them right in the garbage. "my lunch!" 

"if you want varenyky, i will make you some. you will not eat that trash." 

tony was still pouting over the garbage can. "but i'm hungry." 

"come on," natasha grabbed his sleeve and tugged him over. "i'll teach you how and it'll go fast." 

or, how tony and nat bonded over pierogis while dancing to U2

@darthbloodorange - (College AU) It was 4AM. He knew they knew they were probably get into loads of trouble. Any moment now Security would be knocking on their door with a noise complaint. But Tony couldn't care less, he's hasn't been so happy in a long time. He was dancing with Steve in the kitchen to U2, cooking varenyky.

[priorireverte]

Congratulations Emily!

Your application for George Weasley has been accepted. I feel like George is often a character who gets overlooked, or reduced to ‘twin and prankster’. You have definitely not done that, adding so much more to him in a realistic way that a war would. I’m very excited to have him around!

Please look to the checklist for the next steps and reach out if you have any questions!

OUT OF CHARACTER

NAME & PRONOUNS: Emily, She/Her

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I am currently searching for a job, but that does leave me with some time on my hands for rping purposes! Trying to keep myself busy in a multitude of ways when the world is not helping y'know </3

ANYTHING ELSE: TW: rape, sexual assault

CHARACTER DETAILS

NAME: George Weasley

BIRTHDATE: April 1, 1978

DEATHDATE:  N/A

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY:  George identifies as a cis-man and uses he/him pronouns. He is fairly comfortable with these. George is hetero-romantic and asexual, although I would not say this is a term he understands or would use for himself. Whenever his friends would talk about their partners sexually, George would play along with the others, but definitely would look to change the subject as soon as humanly possible. It is simply not something he can comprehend about himself and he does best ignoring feelings that he may not yet understand. The only person he has ever even mildly revealed this to would be Fred, but George was not comfortable going into any major detail in regards to how he felt. At most it was an offhand comment here or there.

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

OCCUPATION: Shop Owner of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes

FACECLAIM: I think I am going back and forth on this and I am also terrible at these—I believe I was debating between Caleb Landry Jones or Luke Newberry. But I think I finally decided to go with Caleb!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND

POSTBELLUM

They say there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. They also say that time heals all wounds. George has found out that hard way that this is all a load of rubbish. What they don’t tell you about losing the most important person in your life is that you never fully stop grieving. You can’t heal. Because healing involves forgetting. A bouquet of flowers from his great aunt was nice, but it’s not going to make George forget and it’s not going to bring Fred back. And George has no idea how to keep plants alive, anyway.

It seems like most others have been able to move on; start families, or careers, but George can’t seem to get past it, and he forces himself to deal with his loss head on every day by working day in and day out at that store that haunts him. He sees Fred in everything; from the letterhead on his desk that still reads “Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, Proprieters Fred and George Weasley”; to the kids who come in and test the screaming yo-yo’s in front of him; or the mirror in the bathroom that is for employees only. He has buried himself in his work post the war, and quite literally expects to be buried in it.

While George will never fully get over the loss of his twin, he has since stopped having panic attacks in the bathroom and got a haircut, which he considers major progress. It has also helped that he has finally taken Ron up on his offer to help run the shop, which he realized he needed a long time ago, as the bills have piled up from all his discounts. [Happy to redact if Ron’s mun decides they don’t want to follow this plot!] He still snaps at his family more than he would like, but they know how suffocating they can be.

The news of the Returned may have been the happiest anyone had seen George in years. He cracked a joke and even went out of his way to visit his siblings, instead of making them come to him. To Hell with adjusting to his new life, he was ready. It seemed clear to him that those who died valiantly in the Battle of Hogwarts were returning—After all, if people like Professor Lupin and Lavender Brown were coming back, it was only a matter of time until Fred did too, right?

PERSONALITY: What are they good at? What do they struggle with? What are their strengths and weaknesses? 

Boys as loud as their hair, is what George heard Filch say about him and his brother once, and it lit up his face with a wide bright grin before he tapped Fred excitedly on the shoulder to share the good news. It was this unbridled optimism, this impractical belief that he could do anything that gave him the confidence and courage to follow his dreams. That, and having a partner by his side.

George was easy to get along with, because for most of his life his decisions had been made for him and all he had to do was saddle up and play along. Fred was always the one setting the wheels in motion, and George was grateful for that. He wasn’t shy by any means, but people just flocked to Fred, and by association George. They were known to light up any room they were in, and were always the first to enliven a crowd if it was too dreary for their liking. He liked having the same friends as his brother. He liked being a package deal. He knew Fred would always have his back so when he felt like he wanted to retreat, he knew Fred could carry a conversation or sort something in the shop without him.

Perhaps that’s why it’s been so hard for George to adjust to life on his own. Now all of that pressure falls on him and it feels overwhelming. He was never the business-savvy brother, leaving Fred to come up with price points while he worked on ideas for new products.

Now, it feels like half of himself is gone. Sometimes he feels like a body walking around and smiling because that’s what people are supposed to do, but the joy just isn’t there. The smiles are artificial now. He is trying, but few things can bring back that spark that his twin so easily transferred over to him.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY: What was being part of their family like? How did they grow up? What values did their parents/family instill in them?

His parents instilled in him and all his siblings a love and joy greater than most, and George was grateful for that. The Weasley’s weren’t well off by any means, but that only bubbled the creativity in the twins, especially when it came to ways to cure their boredom. He remembers fond birthdays he shared with Fred where they made their own cake scream or spent an entire afternoon perfecting exploding snaps in their bedroom, much to the dismay of their parents. The Burrow was unkempt and chaotic, but George loved it, squeaky floorboards and all.

He hasn’t been back in years, purposefully choosing to close himself off from that space. He knows his mother isn’t happy with his choice and that guilt eats him up inside, but that shrinking feeling in his heart is better than the burning feeling he would get of seeing his brother’s hand on that clock. Still, George loves his family endlessly, even if he hasn’t done a very good job of showing it these last couple of years.

HISTORY: What was their life before the end of the war in ‘98 or before their death? What was important and formative for them?

There was a time when George thought that the worst thing that could happen to him was having to de-gnome the garden after flying a car underage. Then there was a time he thought the worst thing that could happen to him was losing an ear. George and his siblings grew up in a loving, but shabby home. He loved his siblings and knew they loved him, even if he and his twin brother were always pranking them. They were carefree, and they had each other.

Fred was the one who first suggested the two go into business, and George was always the first to agree with his big brother. It felt like a dream, leaving the drudges of school behind and spending all day doing what he loved with the person he cared about most. They never fought. They had been a well-oiled machine since birth, so it only made sense that their business ran smoothly. The one knew where the others’ strengths and weaknesses lied. Fred was better at bargaining and he didn’t care what color the walls were, like George did. Growing up did not seem like growing up, because he had a partner by his side.

George was the one who first brought up going back to Hogwarts. Given their proximity to the Order of the Phoenix and Harry, fighting alongside them was their only option. Additionally, George felt they owed Harry for helping them start their business in the first place. He will always believe that the cause they fought for was noble and right, but he sometimes wonders if the victory was worth the loss. He doesn’t spend much time with folks of his past. George doesn’t want to, but a piece of him resents Harry. He would never tell anyone, but he wonders if they hadn’t gotten so close, felt it was necessary to fight alongside him, if Fred would still be here. He wonders If he wouldn’t fall asleep alone at his desk every night curled into a ball; he wonders if he would ever make a new product instead of staring, detached at the efforts that just remind him of his brother.

OOC EXPLORATION

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? I feel like finding a post-war trio era rp with a unique plot that is also para-based is me asking for too much, and yet here you are!! I have never explored Post-War George and I think his trauma is so fascinating and it could affect his life in so many different ways, as it already has. The addition of the Returned is asking for more ~angst~ and boy am I here for it :) In particular, I am interested in exploring the dynamics George has with his siblings especially, as I am sure some of them have very different reactions to him kind of closing himself off for a bit, and his guilt is obviously through the roof because of it. But also all characters tbh!!! I love for plotting out entirely too much backstory haha.

ANYTHING ELSE?  I made a mood board for George here! https://www.pinterest.com/ebateman64/ch-george-weasley/

And also some head canons!:

George has a hard time sleeping (he always has) but he actually enjoys sleeping in his office. The papers piled high, the Pygmy Puffs that squeak at night–the clutter and chaos actually feel like the most stable thing he has had in a long time. Immediately following the war, George stayed at the Burrow for a few weeks to be closer to his family, using it as an excuse to get any leftover stock that might still be in his childhood bedroom. But it was too troubling to sleep in that room. It was bare-boned, not only because he had taken most of his belongings, but because one of the beds was empty. After the first night, he slept on the couch in the living room instead.

While he barely feels the loss of his left ear these days, occasionally there is a ringing sound that fills his head and gives him migraines from the pain, major enough that he needs to lie down. This only happens occasionally, and he usually chooses to push through it by clasping his hand to his ear for a few minutes.

George actually used to care quite deeply about his appearance, however, that has definitely gone downhill in recent years. Some could say he is going to a “rugged” look, but it’s really just because he can’t be bothered to wash his hair. In the last couple of weeks, however, he has donned the old suit that he used to wear to work everyday. He can’t fill it out like he used to, but it gives him some semblance of hope.

[ratedbangtann]

✧˚₊‧ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 - 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ✧˚₊‧  𝙎𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖, 𝘽𝙖𝙗𝙮... || 𝙅𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙃𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙤𝙠

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝... Pairing: Hoseok x reader Word count: 6.2K Warnings: Explicit smut; role play, spanking, degradation, pain kink, teasing, orgasm denial, throat fucking, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie.

Song: Santa Baby by Kylie Minogue ✧˚₊‧

"Hand me those lights, babe," you called to Hoseok, who was rummaging through the boxes of decorations you had dragged out of the attic. He pulled the wire out, tangling it around himself in a ridiculously hap-hazard way. He took one step towards you before he stumbled, cursing at the wires that betrayed him.

"Damnit!" he muttered, saving himself from tumbling to the floor somehow. You giggled at him, and even harder when he looked over to scowl at you. He dumped them to the floor at your feet, moving to plug them into the wall just behind the large tree the pair of you had picked out together.

They lit up in a mess of wire and light, but somehow it was definitely easier to untangle now.

"Where did you get all this junk, anyway?" Hoseok asked, wrapping the wire around his elbow to organise the lights while you strung them neatly over the tree branches.

"My parents wanted to redecorate, said we could have all their old Christmas stuff when they moved in June," you explained, "So now that we have our own place, it seemed like a waste to say no."

Hoseok smiled at that, a sense of pride settling over him.

You and Hoseok had moved in together in October, finally having a space for the two of you to call your own. He'd been nervous to leave the dorm at first, conscious that he didn't want relationships with the boys to dwindle. It had taken a while, but eventually the two of you found yourselves a lavish apartment just two blocks away from the dorm building. The boys were always visiting the pair of you anyway, and you them.

It was as if nothing had changed, but after dating Hobi for three years they had encouraged you both to find a home for yourselves. It was quite sweet, really; the way they supported your relationship gave Hoseok the reassurance that they honestly didn't mind him starting a new chapter in his life.

"You're happy here, right?" he asked, watching as you stretched on your toes to reach just the middle of the grandest tree you'd ever seen in your life. You turned to look at him, confused.

"Of course, I am. Why...aren't you?" you panicked. Oh god, was he about to tell you he wanted to move back in with the boys?

"Yes, YES! Of course, I am yeah. I just know this place is like... big. I don't know," he mumbled, smiling to himself.

"Well, you did pick a ridiculously large apartment with ceilings I'll never reach to get the cobwebs down, but I adore it Hobi. It's ours." You grinned at him, grateful for everything he'd done for you.

Of course, Hobi had picked one of the biggest apartments he could find; that was in his nature. He wanted to give you the best, spend all his damn earnings on you. It made you uncomfortable sometimes, just a little too much money for someone who had a desk job and grew up on next-to-nothing. He just couldn't help himself, spoiling his little princess at every chance he got.

And the reason he never minded, was because he simply knew you weren't milking him for every penny. You never expected anything, still paid for meals out and refused to let him, still bought him little gifts here and there like he did for you. Granted you weren't earning the millions he was, but you didn't believe he should pay for everything just because he made the most.

"Just wanted the best for my princess," he grinned, stepping towards you to place a kiss to your forehead. "And who knows, maybe one day we'll fill it with little versions of ourselves running about and wrecking the place," he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You loved that he saw that kind of future with you; it made your heart do little backflips you didn't know it was capable of.

"Yeah? How many are you thinking?" you pressed.

"Hmmm..." he thought hard, "Three boys, two girls, one dog."

"And one poor little mom cleaning up after them all," you laughed, turning back to the tree. "Babe I can't reach, you gotta help."

Immediately he crouched to slot his head between your legs, lifting you to sit on his shoulders so you could reach the branches to finish the lights. You squealed at the surprise, somehow keeping yourself steady as he lifted you off your feet.

You finished the lighting the tree, letting Hobi set you back onto your feet as you both admired your work.

"Beautiful," he mused, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

"But we haven't even put the baubles on it yet..." you sunk back into him, letting him hold you as he started to sway slowly from side to side.

"Wasn't talking about the tree," he mumbled in your ear, pressing a kiss to the spot just underneath. You chuckled at that; ever the charmer. You clapped your hands over his, pushing them away and skipping towards the boxes full of decorations.

"Come on, lots to do!" you sang, digging around for the red and gold baubles your parents had handed down to you. Hoseok joined you, looking through the other box to see what else was there.

"Oooh, cool!" Hobi said to himself, pulling out a Santa's hat with a big white fluffy beard. Immediately he put them on, attaching the elastic around his head and setting the hat on top of his untouched hair. "Ho, ho, ho!" he bellowed, rubbing his tummy in a ridiculous impression of the jolly fat man.

He kept them on as you worked, again having to lift you to place the baubles on the very tops of the tree, including the large gold star.

"Perfect!" you chimed as he put you down. "See, not all just junk!" You elbowed his tummy playfully.

"Suppose not," he smirked under the beard. "No, really... It looks beautiful. Our first Christmas in our own place," he turned to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him, placed a rather fluffy kiss to your lips.

"Promise you won't grow a beard, Hobi..." you laughed, pulling a strand of white synthetic hair out of your mouth.

"Not even when I'm old?"

"Nope," you laughed.

"Fine," he huffed. "Have you done your shopping yet?" he asked, fully aware he hadn't even started his just two weeks before the big day.

"Most of it, just gotta get something for Namjoon and Taehyung. But I have ideas anyway. Have you?"

"Haven't even started..." he admitted.

"Hobi! You don't have much time left!" you scolded. By now, ordering online was just far too risky.

"I know, I know... I'll go soon, I promise. I just don't know what to get everyone..." he waved his hand in the air dismissively. "What do you want for Christmas, babe?"

"Ooh, now there's a question..." you pressed your finger to your chin, pretending to think hard. "Don't care. Got you," you shrugged.

"Baby, you can have me whenever you want," he whispered seductively, ducking his head down to plant kisses to the spot under your ear like he had before. "I meant... for Christmas," he continued to kiss your neck, dragging his lips across the skin so gently, goosebumps starting to rise all over.

You were a little blindsided by his sudden change in demeanour, but you couldn't deny his advances and flirty nature. Instead, you thought you'd play on it a little. It was Christmas, after all...

"Santa... I'm just not sure," you said innocently. "I suppose... I'd like a new car?" you joked, your voice feigning innocence.

"Hmmm, you got it baby," he mumbled against your skin, his hands gripping onto your hips. "Anything else?"

"Well, Santa... I've been such a good girl this year, and I'd really, really like a yacht..." your voice turned seductive, letting your head fall back as Hobi continued to work his lips against you. Of course, you were joking. Never in a million years would you actually ask Hobi for a yacht, or a car, but that's not what this was about.

You were teasing him, feeling the way his little kisses turned to open-mouthed ones as you spoke so sexily into his ear. The faux beard he'd adorned felt scratchy against your skin but for the mean time, you didn't mind it.

Hobi's hands slid down to your ass, cupping the cheeks through your comfy leggings you'd worn simply to stay comfortable when decorating. He gave you a squeeze, biting his teeth down lightly onto your neck.

"I'll see what I can do, princess. Anything else?" he growled, potentially arousing himself more so than he was arousing you.

"Diamonds would be nice, but they're so typical, y'know?" you put on a snobby British accent, turning your nose up at the idea. "I prefer sapphires, maybe beautiful red rubies to match your hat, Santa..." you flicked the white ball of fluff at the end of the hat, sending it bounding around his head.

"You have expensive taste, my love," he chuckled lowly, his voice dropping to a much sexier octave than usual. You knew that voice; if you were to press your hips a little closer to his, you were sure you'd feel the stirrings of an erection in his sweats.

"See, I never used to Santa... But I met a man who spoils me rotten, and well, I've developed a taste for it..." you teased.

"A man, hm? So, you don't just belong to Santa anymore?" he questioned, squeezing your ass once again.

"Well I'm always going to be your princess, Santa baby, but... I just love the way he makes me feel. His lips are just... heavenly," you gasped, eyes closing as he dipped down to your collar bone, exposed by the vest top you'd worn today.

"Tell me more, princess," he snarled against your skin.

"And his tongue, Santa... His tongue works magic, I swear..." you flattered, obviously talking about Hoseok himself.

"Is there anything more magic than Santa Claus and his flying sleigh though, princess?" He lifted his head, looking down at you with hooded eyes.

"I couldn't possibly tell you, Santa..." you gave him a coy smile, winking at him, "There's something else that might just be a little more magical, but... It's not exactly decent." You blushed furiously but kept up the pretence that you were still this confident, classy woman.

"Princess, tell me..." he pressed one of his hands to your check, stroking the flushed skin and staring down into your eyes.

"Santa..." you cooed, nuzzling into his palm sweetly. "It's his cock, Santa. So magical. He's made me see stars, made me cry with pleasure. I can't describe it!" you confessed.

You watched his eyes widen momentarily, and then his lips spread into the widest grin he could possibly muster.

"You must have forgotten about Santa's cock then, huh baby?" he teased, closing the space between you as he pressed himself against your hip. "It's not true what they say, you know..." he raised an eyebrow at you.

"What's that, Santa?" He smirked, craning his neck around to whisper into your ear.

"I don't just come once a year..."

Before you had a chance to speak, to say anything at all or even react, he tucked an arm under your knees and one around your back and lifted you bridal style. You squealed, flinging your arms around your neck to keep from falling; not that it would have mattered, Hobi had you safely tucked into him.

He carried you through the hall, all whilst you were pulling on the elasticated beard to reveal his lips to you so you could attack them fiercely with your own. He struggled to walk in a straight line when you kissed him, falling up against the walls to keep upright now that his concentration was solely on your lips, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling they gave him.

Eventually he made it to your bedroom, kicking the door open and rushing in to drop you against the bed and immediately crawl over you to reconnect your desperate lips together. You whined into his kiss, pulling him down to you by the t-shirt he was wearing.

Suddenly he pushed off you though, standing up at the foot of your bed and looking down at you, pulling the false beard back over his mouth and folding his arms over his chest.

"Sweetheart, I think you've been quite naughty, don't you? With whoever this man is?" he scorned, eyebrows creasing his forehead. You nodded, giving him the sweetest puppy dog eyes. "Then do you need a punishment, sweetie?"

"Santa..." you whined, squeezing your thighs together for the friction you had begun to crave.

"I think you do, baby. Strip for me. Right now," he demanded. You did as you were told, pulling your vest top over your head, unclipping the strap to your bra and letting it ping off your shoulders. He ogled at you, watching you push your leggings down your thighs slowly with your underwear all in one, stripping yourself right down in front of him.

"Perfect, princess. On your stomach, sweetie. Like a good little girl," he rolled his finger in the motion he wanted you to follow and you obeyed without a word, flipping over onto your stomach to show off the gorgeous curve of your back, cascading down over your ass; the ass he loved so much.

He didn't say a word, but you felt the bed dip down just beside your thigh, his knee digging into the mattress. His strong hand rest at the base of your neck, dragging down your spine just to tease, just to make you feel his presence, until he reached the curve of your back where the base of your spine met your ass.

With just that one hand, he kneaded the flesh of your cheek like bread dough, watching as it jiggled and sprung back into place each time he moved.

Hoseok had always been an ass man, but when he'd met you his obsession only grew; he loved your ass more than any other part of you, always finding some excuse to touch it, tap it, spank it, stroke it... He loved how full it felt in his palm, loved how it jiggled and bounced.

"Naughty little girls need to learn a lesson, hmm?" he asked rhetorically. You nodded, your cheek flush against the sheets. "Do you know how, princess?"

You did. You knew exactly what was coming and you couldn't wait – the anticipation alone had heat pooling between your legs. You squirmed against the mattress, raising your ass off it slightly to meet his hand as he let his touch barely linger on the skin. You used that as your answer.

"That's right, baby. Naughty little girls get a spanking," he affirmed, before bringing his large hand down to your ass in the most gratifying of slaps, the sound echoing off the tall ceiling. You whimpered, feeling the burn in your flesh and wiggling your hips to do anything to take your mind off the sting. But he pressed his free hand to the base of your spine, holding you down.

He waited for the sting to subside until you could only just feel it, before landing another harsh slap to the exact same spot, reigniting the fire on your skin. You cried out, this time biting down on your finger to distract yourself as you couldn't move your hips.

"Hmm, such a nice little red print forming there, baby. All marked up," he praised, rubbing the flesh to soothe the burn but honestly, nothing helped. Despite the pain, you willed him to continue. You got such a fucking rush from pain, as did Hobi. He loved to give it, loved to receive it and lucky for him, your tastes were very much the same.

He raised his hand again and you tensed, anticipating the third spank that you knew was coming. Hobi could feel you pushing against his weight, trying so desperately to raise your ass in the air for him but his grip was too strong.

Another slap to the reddened spot on your cheek had you crying out louder than before, hot tears prickling your eyes as your teeth sank into your finger. Again, he rubbed the skin, soothing the area but this time letting his hand wander, sliding down between your cheeks to swipe over your glistening folds. Your breath caught in your throat as he touched you, his middle finger dipping between to tease your hole without ever pushing far enough in like you wished he would.

You mewled at him, begging him to feel more but he ignored you, instead delivering a quick and harsh slap to your wetness that had you lurching forward onto the bed, the familiar stinging sensation now encapsulating your heat. Naturally you spread your legs a little more for him, giving him the room to dip his finger into you again, this time dipping it into your entrance just up to the first knuckle.

You couldn't help the moan that tumbled out of your mouth, your walls clenching around the slightest intrusion. Hoseok had already wound you up so much, but his teasing was always this way; unrelenting.

With another quick motion he had drawn his finger out of you and brought his hand down far enough to slap against your clit brutally. At that your entire body caught fire, shockwaves burning through your nerves all the way down to your toes. Hoseok had trouble keeping you pushed into the mattress then, but he smirked to himself watching how your body reacted to him.

"How does it feel, princess?" he asked with sarcasm dripping from every syllable. You knew if you told him it hurt, he wouldn't be satisfied. If you complained and cried, he'd only keep going until he heard what he wanted to hear from your lips.

"G-good... Thank you, um..." you weren't sure what to call him in this situation. Of course, with the beard and the hat and the foreplay leading to this moment you had addressed him as Santa, but... did he want you to keep doing that? Was that weird? You weren't sure, simply stuttering self-consciously.

"Santa, y/n. Don't forget that, hmm?" Oh, so he wanted you to refer to him as Santa? So be it...

"Thank you, Santa. Feels good," you repeated, using the name he'd chosen for today's roleplay.

"Of course it does, baby. Naughty little girls always enjoy their punishments a little too much, don't they?" You nodded impatiently, just hoping you'd given him what he wanted. But instead, he landed another ridiculously loud and harsh slap, this time back to your reddened ass cheek.

"OW!" you cried out, tears now spilling down your checks as he again, soothed the burning spot.

"You took that so well, Princess. Santa's proud of you; such a good girl, hmm?" he praised, leaning down to whisper into your ear, the beard tickling your neck. "You just needed to be reminded who you belonged to, hmm?"

He shifted his hand down again, spreading your pussy lips apart to dive his middle finger back into you, completely up to the knuckle. You cried out, feeling him curl it inside you. Your walls clenched again, attempting to feel everything but one finger still just wasn't enough to quench the thirst you had built up.

"You're so needy, hmm? It's almost as if one finger isn't enough..." he mocked. He knew exactly what he was doing, an expert in teasing. "Didn't you say that this other man's tongue was magical, sweetie?" he asked, getting off on the fact that it was in fact him that you had been bragging about... to him.

"Y-yes, Santa... So magical."

"Hmm..." he contemplated, dragging his finger out of you and shifting, straddling your legs and dipping his head down to clamp his teeth around the curve of your ass, exactly where he had spanked you. You cried out at the pain, but good lord it felt good.

With his teeth sunken into the flesh he locked his lips around the skin, sucking harshly on it. He hadn't been satisfied with simply branding you with his handprint, he needed to see your ass turn purple under him too, to make it so uncomfortable to sit down for the next few days that you had to angle your body to sit on your one good cheek.

Satisfied with the splotch he created, he swiped his tongue over it, the coolness of the moisture making you shiver where you lay under him. He left messy, sloppy kisses across your backside, covering your cheek in kisses before he buried his chin between your cheeks, his tongue protruding from his mouth to graze over the puckered rosebud of your ass.

You hadn't expected it, your head shooting up from the bed with a loud gasp as he pushed against you just a little, dragging the wetness down between your cheeks to encircle your hole. He groaned the second he tasted you, never able to hide how much he adored your flavour.

He decided he couldn't get to where he wanted to taste the most, wrapping his hands around your thighs and lifting you until you were elevated by your knees, completely exposed to him. He didn't disconnect his lips for a split second, tongue chasing the taste he craved.

He dived in completely as soon as he was able to, lapping at your already throbbing clit like a man starved, the hair of his faux beard tickling and scratching at you and also becoming coated in your arousal. For some reason Hoseok never pulled the beard down, never moved it away; he was fully into his character, this dominating Father Christmas figure.

Your face was naturally pushed further into the sheets, muffling the moans that dribbled from your mouth as his ferocious attack on your nerves continued. He knew how to work his entire mouth, his lips sucking against you, tongue dancing with your clit, teeth grazing every so often too. After the abuse your pussy had already taken from him with his slaps, everything felt hypersensitive, shaking you to the very depths of your being.

"S-Santa..." you cried out, very aware that if you were to slip and use his name or his usual pet name, you'd be in trouble. You weren't sure your body could take further battering right now, still recovering from just the five heavy-handed spanks you had received previously.

You couldn't hear it, but you felt him chuckle against your heat at the use of his new nickname. He never relented, never held back, simply lapping at your pussy in every way his mouth could. His hands gripped your thighs so tight you could already feel them bruising under his fingertips, adding to the marks he had already given you.

You could feel it; the coil in your abdomen was tightening impossibly with Hoseok pushing his face further into your pelvis. He was getting sloppy, the sounds coming from behind you so god damn vulgar, but every single slurp was excruciatingly arousing. You needed to cum, needed the permission.

"Please, p-please Santa... Can I-" you could barely finish your sentence, Hobi hearing you begging already and immediately straightening up and bringing his face away from your core. He drove a sixth hard slap to your ass, making you yelp as your hips crashed to the mattress in defeat.

"No, not yet. Make me cum, princess. Then you get your reward." He pushed himself up off the bed, standing at the foot again smirking down at your heap of a body, panting and sweating and still so desperate to cum, Hobi lifted his shirt over his head, throwing it to one side and stepping out of his sweats and briefs. He was painfully hard, his tip an angry shade of red to match the ridiculous hat on his head still, precum leaking from the slit.

When you looked back at him, you saw him gripping himself at the base and slowly dragging his fist along his length, pumping ever so slowly a couple of times. Your eyes widened at the sight, tongue darting out to wet your lips as you imagined the taste you knew so well on your tongue once again.

Your crawled up on your hands and knees, turning around to face him and sitting back on your heels. You practically jumped up out of your place though, the contact sending bolts of pain through your ass and up your back. Sitting on your knees was out of the question, unless you leaned forward on your hands. So, that's exactly what you did, backing up so you were ready for Hobi at the edge of the bed, mouth wide open and tongue hanging out the way he liked you.

"Whose tongue is better, baby? Mine, or your mystery man's?" he asked, stepping forward to inch his cock toward your tongue but still teasing you, keeping back just an inch until you answered him.

"Y-yours, Santa," you said sweetly. Hobi smiled under the beard, letting you finally taste him when he took the smallest step forward and let himself touch against your tongue. You could taste the saltiness of his precum, not unpleasant at all but in fact, enticing. Looking up at him through your lashes, you waited to move until he gave you the nod you were waiting for, the same nod he always did when he was in control.

And like clockwork, he nodded his head once.

You lurched forward promptly, taking at least half of his glorified length into your mouth completely engulfing him in wet warmth. He grunted between grit teeth, already feeling sensations that gave him tingles right up through his abs to his chest. He watched you as you bobbed your head, every so often hollowing your cheeks on him and sucking viciously in an attempt to drain him as quickly as possible.

Gently he laced his fingers in your hair, simply to caress at first. But the longer you spent working on his length, the tighter his grip became, until he had enough of being patient. He gripped it tightly at the roots, keeping your head still and elevated as he pushed his hips forward to shove himself snugly into your throat.

The muscles contracted against him, trying to force him out but he held you there. You'd had enough practise to be able to cope with this, diverting your breathing through your nose and ignoring the impending gag reflex that tried to make itself known.

He drew his hips back and pushed in again, hearing the obscene gargling noise of saliva as he forced his way in. He loved it; loved it dirty, loved it messy. Hoseok was a complete freak and it totally matched up to the way you liked it too.

He had begun thrusting his hips into your throat with force, every so often letting you take in a deep breath before he started once again. There was enough trust in your relationship to allow Hobi to use you this way. You were fully aware of the tapping method if it all got too much, but right now you were completely engulfed in the moment with him.

"F-fuck, gonna cum down that pretty little throat of yours, Princess," he groaned, throwing his head back with his hips never slacking. You could only hum in response, sending vibrations shooting through his entire body. Your hum triggered his climax, his balls tightening and dick twitching as cum spurted hot and salty down your throat.

You gagged a little at the foreign liquid, but expertly swallowed it down like he'd trained you to do so.

He let go of your hair, crouching in front of you and pulling the beard down under his chin as he got his breath back. He stroked your cheek gently as he looked into your eyes, checking for sure that you were okay. Satisfied with his answer found in your eyes, he leaned forward to kiss you so deeply. It never bothered him that he could taste himself on your tongue; to tell the truth, he kind of liked it.

"Do you want your reward now, baby?" he asked, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Please," you begged; your voice hoarse from the onslaught you'd just received.

"Of course, baby. Turn around again for me." He stood up again, watching as you turned on shaky arms and legs, revealing yourself to him again. By now your ass was an undeniably shocking shade of red with a large purple splotch in the middle, your pussy completely dripping and the same shade as your ass. You could feel your pulse in your clit, waiting so patiently to be seen to.

Hobi dragged one finger through your folds, teasing like he had before. You whimpered at the contact, your legs shaking beneath you. To save your sanity, Hobi pushed not one, but two fingers into you, stretching your pussy a little more than before and filling you up marginally more so than just one finger would; but it still wasn't enough.

He curled his fingers inside you, tapping the spongey spot that sent an incredible vibration up through your body. Your arms gave way, torso smacking into the sheets while a moan erupted from the depths of your chest. Hobi didn't stop, curling inside you so intensely whilst listening to the sweetest of moans coming from you.

He could feel the stir of arousal below again, somehow finding the stamina to be able to give you exactly what you were craving. You desperately were wishing he could just fuck you, fill you up properly and abuse your pussy, but without being able to look back at him, you had no idea is cock was slowly rising to attention again.

At least, not until you felt the air swish around you as he stood up and removed his fingers from inside you. You look back at him to see him thrusting his coated fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. You whined at the sight, feeling so empty and yet so turned on that you were growing more and more destitute.

When you felt him pressing his hard-again cock to your entrance, you forced your hips back on him, pussy engulfing half his length at once because you simply couldn't wait. You paid the price, with another harsh slap to the affected area. You cried out, hissing in pain. He still never pulled out though, considering the slap enough discipline for now.

Instead, he pushed slowly into you, until he was completely buried inside you. Finally, you felt full; properly full. He stretched you so perfectly, hitting every damn nerve inside you.

"S-Santa..." you moaned, still immersed in the role play despite the beard no longer on his face and frankly, long forgotten. The hat still remained in place.

"Feel good, princess?" he asked, dragging his cock back out of you agonisingly slowly.

"F-fuck, yes... Please, please just fuck me. I'm begging!" you cried, losing all self-control and frankly self-respect also. Hobi chuckled behind you, gripping onto your hips and thrusting forward with a loud grunt and a slap of his hips against your ass. You felt the burn against it again, but you were getting what you wanted, you couldn't very well complain right now.

Not only did Hobi decide that thrusting into you benefited him just as much as it did you, but he had taken to rolling his hips as he did, in turn hitting new angles that drove you absolutely wild. He'd scrape your g-spot so often you were sure you wouldn't last, especially with all the god damn foreplay and denial he'd given you so far.

Hobi could already feel you clenching around him, gripping onto him with every outward draw. Despite already cumming once, he was quickly losing resolve at the same rapid rate that you were.

"Baby, you gotta tell me when you're gonna cum, okay?" he warned, fingertips digging in even harder to your hips as he fucked into you. That coil you were so familiar with was tightening fast, getting ready to release completely and you weren't sure you were even capable of words right now, simply moaning a response that sounded nothing like words.

Your body started to shake, any and all control fizzling away as your orgasm rushed at you, the spring inside you finally fracturing and splintering. Your back arched like it was down to demons, your lungs spasming as you gasped for breath. Your firsts gripped the sheets as your oncoming scream was muffled by your face being pushed into the mattress by your own doing.

Your walls clamped against Hobi, making it damn near impossible to keep a steady rhythm as he continued to ride you through it. You were dragging him to the edge with you, his second orgasm rupturing something inside him as he called your name into the air, filling you to the brim with his second load. Your body writhed under him as he lost his strength, having to prop himself up on his knee to keep from falling onto you in a heap.

But when your own hips fell flat against the bed, he couldn't keep himself up anymore, collapsing next to you and in turn, pulling out of you and letting his cum spill from between your folds.

You felt completely spent, completely soiled and totally used; and you fucking loved it.

You started to whimper where you lay, reaching a hand out for Hobi to grip onto in order to ground yourself a little.

"B-baby, what's wrong?" he said, breathless. He used whatever strength he had left to pull you limp to rest against him.

"D-didn't... tell you... I-I'm s-sorry," you sobbed, scared he'd be mad at you, even if it were just roleplay.

"Shh, it's okay. You didn't need to, I knew anyway. You were perfect, princess. Just perfect," he placed a kiss to your forehead, lingering to show you the love and aftercare you needed.

You both lay in silence, recovering for a few minutes until you could actually move of your own accord again. The dull burn that lingered on your ass was starting to become sore, and when you did try to move you hissed in pain.

"Wait, let me help. Roll over," he said, sitting up and walking into the en suite bathroom, coming back with a tub of aloe vera gel to sooth the angry redness. He was so careful with you, gently pressing it into your skin. "I'm sorry baby, did I go too far?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"No, Hobi... You know I like it," you giggled sleepily, "and you always take such good care of me after." He smiled at that; god you were perfect. Especially for him. It was like you were made for each other.

Finished with the gel, he screwed the lid back on and tossed it to the side; where it landed, he didn't care. But he scooted up the bed and pulled you with him, laying you on your front against his chest so the two of you could just be close to one another, laziness overcoming you both.

"So, the Santa thing..." he began, realising he was still wearing the damn hat with the beard hanging around his neck. He pulled them both off, dumping them beside the bed.

"Hmmm?" you hummed, practically drifting to sleep already.

"Do you have a thing for Santa, or a thing for me dressed as Santa?" You laughed at that; surely that was an obvious question?

"You, dressed as. The roleplay is fun though... naughty little girl asking Santa for nice gifts that she doesn't deserve until she earns it," you explained, tracing figure of eight patterns on his chest. He nodded in understanding.

"Kinda ruins that childhood myth though," he snickered, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

"Hmm, wonder how many more we could ruin..." you contemplated. "Maybe you should dress as the tooth fairy next?"

Hoseok couldn't hold back the snort that came out of him at that, imagining himself in a frilly pink tutu and fairy wings.

"Somehow, I don't think that's gonna happen..."

"I'll get you one day, Jung Hoseok," you promised, yawning against his chest. He grinned at your guarantee and decided not to press the matter. You clearly needed your rest right now, already falling into a snooze laying with him.

Instead he just placed his lips against your forehead, laying still with you until he felt the soft breaths from your parted lips fanning over his exposed chest.

God, you looked prettiest like this. Totally spent, exhausted from Hobi's work. Cheeks pink and ass bright red and purple.

Stunning, he thought to himself. ✧˚₊‧𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬‧₊˚✧ - 𝘍𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

[sieben9]

“quite a common fairy” impressions

Confession time: I have an irrational weakness for disneyfied-nice Tinkerbell. I know, neither accurate to the book, nor the movie, but that's how it is. So, ever since I realised this show was going to Neverland, I've been quietly going "please don't let her be evil, please don't let her be evil..."  and look! Not evil!

Bitter and very pissed off, but not evil.

Also, in what seems to have become the background chorus every time the character shows up: What the hell, Blue.

I have to say, though: at least in this case, Blue was obviously _meant_ to be the antagonist of Tinkerbell's story. At least she's just a tyrant, not a hypocrite.

...yeah, that's still not all that great, is it?

And yes, I know, broken record, but Regina, do you really think this is the right person to advise you on managing your inner darkness?

I'm just saying.

Anyway, what I "loved" most about this entire subplot was Blue's rationale for not helping Regina. Namely "her mother was bad and her teacher is worse". I mean... it's not like she picked the first one? And if you'd been more useful than a chocolate teapot, she wouldn't have had to pick the latter. That quote about how all evil needs to succeed is for good people to stand aside and do nothing? Congratulations, Blue, you're flying, talking proof of that.

Not only that, you actually punished the one person willing to help a scared and miserable young woman.

She was trying to HELP!

All in all, the flashback mostly felt like setup to the cave scene, leaving aside the weirdness of soulmate-seeking pixie dust missiles. I'm assuming that they'll meet at some point in the not-too-far, and I'll mark myself down as "cautiously optimistic". (Though I'll freely admit, if it were down to a choice between that and "I'm talking about our magic, Emma, the magic we make together ::nudge-nudge, wink-wink::", then... yeah, sorry, Robin.)

Why do you do this to me, show?

Special mention to this moment here, where Regina goes through all the stages of grief, including some that haven't been named yet, only to jump alllll the way back to denial and run like hell.

That was some good acting there...

Henry's plot in Neverland was short, but nerve-wracking. Though I was weirdly proud of Henry for just straight-up trying to shoot Pan. He didn't even telegraph it. Just "uh-hu, interesting argument, have a bolt to the face". Yes, it didn't work, but it's the princinple of the thing.

Pan, don't call Neal a "spawn". It's rude. And people in glass houses, etc.

And we see the beginnings of Pan winning Henry over. ::sigh:: Of course Henry will listen to "only you can save magic". The boy is so desperate to be a hero... By the way, I'm assuming that Pan is lying unless proven otherwise. I think I found his tell -- it's whenever his lips are moving.

Just... hang tight, Henry, will you? Pretty much your entire family is coming to get you.

Over in the "adult" plot in Neverland: David is getting worse and might die before the month is out, but won't tell anyone about it. Which may not be fair to his family, but is entirely too understandable. Just don't, y'know, actually die, buddy, OK?

As for the cave scene... Holy wow. That was some good television.

I think this may have been the most direct and honest Regina has been with anyone about the mistakes of her past, including Henry. Something about Tinkerbell's antagonism might have brought it out, because Regina doesn't share it any longer. (Mind you, she obviously didn't look forward to this talk, either, but that's understandable.) She's ready to admit what she denied back in the flashback: she was scared, and she was wrong. More than that, she had been clinging so tightly to her anger that she couldn't let go, and so she chose the "easy" way out. (Hint: it wasn't. Not in the long run.)

And I know her main motivation for helping Tinkerbell out of her own pit was to get her help in finding Henry, but I was still oddly proud of her. There goes my reforming villain, helping other people find their own way back to the light. ::wipes away a tear::

Though maybe giving her your own heart to crush was going a bit far.

I applaud your conviction, Regina, but not your survival instincts

I assume that she saw Tinkerbell's eyes when she had that arrow at her throat, and decided that no, this woman didn't actually want to kill her. She just needed Tinkerbell to realise that, too.

Also, this bit here?

  "With Henry, I finally did something right"

Rude.

Meanwhile, in the Enchanted Forest...

Best. Screenshot. Ever.

I have come to the conclusion that Mr Neal "I use emotional blackmail and also endanger a small child to get back to my family" Cassidy has a lot more in common with his dear old dad than he'd like anyone to know (including himself). I mean, it was a good plan and I don't think the little hobbit was actually in any danger, but... yeah, that whole thing was quite telling, wasn't it?

Far too adorable to be bait

And I may joke about the screenshot, but I do appreciate the parallel between the flashback with a struggling young Bae being dragged away from his new family by the Shadow and the adult Neal jumping after the glowing-eyed demon and holding on for dear life, because damnit, he's getting back to his family this time, and screw whoever tries to stop him.

Of course, this is what happens next, because Neal just attracts this kind of crap:

Illustration next to the dictionary entry for "FML"

OK, I know this looks bad, Neal, but on the other hand, please consider: he is just one single (very long) teenager and you are a fully grown man. I’m not saying “break his nose and run like hell”, buuuut...

As an aside... yes, I know there was another thing happening in the well-lit present day plot, but I'm genuinely upset about that and I won't go into it here. Screw you, show, that wasn't just rude, that was cruel.

[sapphyrelily]

Seijoh 4 Week Day 6

Prompt: different kisses shared among them // youtuber au

Warnings: None

External link: AO3

I am lateeee ugh.

i. Dare

The first time they lock lips, it’s because someone dared them to.

On a live stream.

Oikawa sighs dramatically after he reads the comment out loud, turning to his guest with a flourish. “You heard our viewers, Iwa-chan. They want a demonstration.”

Iwaizumi squints at the screen, then glares at the camera. “You are all traitors.”

The chat overflows with claims of denial and of goading responses, pushing and pushing them to take on the dare.

“You guys are only doing this because Oikawa said I look kissable,” he tells the camera sourly. “It’s a make-up tutorial! I’m supposed to look kissable!”

“’So prove to us that you are kissable',” Oikawa reads, shrugging when Iwaizumi turns to glare. “What? Are you going to disappoint your viewers?”

“No,” Iwaizumi mumbles. “But if you guys try to make a ship out of this, I’m never doing another make-up tutorial with him, got it?”

Most people in the chat agree, with some making don’t be chicken comments, causing Iwaizumi to roll his eyes. He knows they’re still going to make a fuss. That’s how fans work.

He turns away from the camera, facing a very amused Oikawa, and takes a deep breath. “Ready.”

“Iwa-chan, you make kissing me sound like an ordeal!”

“You mean it isn’t?”

“Mean!”

The chat is blowing up again, with awws and so cute! and just kiss already, so he sighs and leans in.

Oikawa’s lips are soft, smooth from the vitamin E chapstick he uses, and he tastes faintly of the caramel sweet he was sucking on. It’s not so bad, he thinks, shifting a little so he can press their mouths more firmly together. It’s actually better than some other people he has kissed before.

They part after a few seconds, blinking at each other, then turn back to the camera with a smile.

“Very soft, probably because of the vitamin E chapstick,” he tells the camera. “Tastes like caramel, though I prefer strawberry.”

“Iwa-chan, that’s not how you rate a kiss!”

He laughs at Oikawa's fake pout, and throws in some comments about it feeling like kissing a marshmallow – too soft and too sweet – but despite all his teasing, he does mean it.

It wasn’t a bad kiss, by any count.

 ii. Accident

“I still can’t believe they want to watch us playing Mario Kart.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“That’s because you’re kicking my ass!”

As if on cue, a blue shell hits the back of his car and he falls off the track. Hanamaki’s character zooms into first place, and he throws his arms up in victory.

He turns to grin at the camera, shooting it a peace sign. “I may not be able to win at arm wrestling yet, but I am still the King of Mario Kart.”

“I’ll contest you for it.”

“Shh. It’s not your day to stream with me, don’t barge in like that,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at Matsukawa.

Iwaizumi growls and picks his controller up. “Again. I demand a rematch.”

“This is the fifth set. There’s no way you can win this race and still beat me over all.”

“Shut up. Let’s play.”

Matsukawa settles his elbows on the back of the sofa, camera steady.

Hanamaki stands to select the course, only to have Iwaizumi pull him back, insisting on choosing.

“Hajime-kun, please, one race isn’t going to change anything–”

“Shut up and let me choose–”

Matsukawa grins to himself, moving so that he can catch the entire spectacle of them fighting over the control. Between Hanamaki’s height and Iwaizumi's strength, it’s a fair fight, and they would have gone on forever if he didn’t tire of watching them. “Guys.”

“He started it!” Hanamaki protests, and Iwaizumi takes that opportunity to jump him for the remote.

They fall in slow motion, wobbling and tilting, and Matsukawa surges forward to stop them–

They hit the ground, and he goes forward with the camera, a concerned question on his tongue when he sees them, frozen against each other.

They pull apart immediately, wiping their mouths and grumbling, but the damage is done.

Later, when they read the comments that they missed, they groan. They expected it, but it is still ridiculous to see how the comments were chock-full of fans screaming about opportune timing and DO IT AGAIN.

 iii. Publicity

“Mattsun, this is tragic. Really, really tragic.”

“You’ve had your own share of glory, it’s not tragic for you.”

“But Makki and Iwa-chan got more views than me!” He wails and throws himself across Matsukawa’s lap, only to have a pillow stuffed in his face.

He pulls the pillow off and hits him with it, whining about his uncouth behaviour. Matsukawa rolls his eyes and hits him with another pillow. “Stop whining, we have a video to film.”

“Mattsunnnn,” Oikawa pleads. “We have to beat them!”

The younger rolls his eyes. “What? You want to do another kissing video?”

“Yeah?”

“How ‘bout no.”

“It doesn’t even have to be a full clip! It could be a blooper!”

Matsukawa shuts up at that, as if he’s considering it. Oikawa doesn’t ease up on his puppy dog eyes – his friend is beginning to crack, he’s sure of it.

Finally, Matsukawa sighs and nods. “Fine. But it’s only for the publicity, got it?”

Oikawa claps his hands in glee. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Twitter nearly crashes the day after their video goes up, everyone screaming about how and why Oikawa was kissing Matsukawa when he obviously had something going on with Iwaizumi.

(Oikawa was ecstatic over his increased views. Iwaizumi was not.)

 iv. Exploration

Hanamaki flops onto the sofa next to his best friend, putting his legs into his lap. “So.”

“So.” Matsukawa balances his book on top of the extra limbs, raising his eyebrows.

“Are Iwaizumi and Oikawa actually a thing, or is that just the fans?”

“Bro, you ask me like I would know.”

“Considering that you kissed Oikawa, you might.” Hanamaki drawls, and his friend chuckles.

“That was for publicity.”

“…I knew it. Iwaizumi owes me creampuffs.”

“You should have asked for cash.”

“Dude. Creampuffs.”

“Meh.” He goes back to his book, and they enjoy the silence for a few minutes before it is broken again.

“What’s it like to kiss Oikawa?”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me what it was like to kiss Iwaizumi.”

“Such a quick response.”

“I'm curious, y'know. He’s a good-looking guy.”

Hanamaki laughs. “True. I dunno though. We mostly knocked teeth when we fell down.”

“That’s the most unhelpful thing you’ve ever told me.”

“Touché. But I told you, so now you tell me.”

Matsukawa is silent for a moment. “It’s soft. But kind of firm too? I don’t know, it’s not like I’ve got a lot of kissing experience.”

His friend snorts. “More than me.”

“If your poor gay heart can’t take it, you’re welcome to ask Oikawa, he’ll love to have more publicity–”

“I’m not brave enough for that yet.” He says it so quietly, he almost misses it, but when he does understand, he stares.

“…you’ve got it bad, huh.”

“Shut up. You like Iwaizumi.”

Matsukawa smiles wryly. “He’s good-looking.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

“Good-looking is hardly an excuse.”

“Shh, just admit your big gay crush.”

“I will if you will.”

“Nope. Too chicken, remember?”

“I’ll help you with kissing practice, if that’s what you’re scared about.”

Hanamaki stares. “Are you serious.”

He returns his stare evenly. “It doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want it to. Like holding hands.”

“But this is kissing.”

“So you touch your mouth to someone else’s mouth. Big deal.”

“You are so unromantic.”

“You want to kiss Oikawa, so I guess that explains your romantic heart.”

Hanamaki kicks him.

“Just practice with me, okay?”

“Fine, fine.”

Their first kiss is awkward, just a peck and pulling away, before Matsukawa tells him to close his eyes and pretend.

It gets easier after that, light glances, firm presses, gentle gliding of skin on skin, teeth tugging and nibbling until they are short of breath.

They practice a lot, because they don’t want to admit that maybe, maybe – they’re beginning to like it a bit too much.

 v. Secret

“Hey, Oikawa.”

“Mm?”

They’re doing another make-up tutorial, this time with Hanamaki as the artist, because it’s Halloween themed.

“Would you like some more publicity?”

Oikawa cracks an eye open – the one he’s not working on, thank goodness – and his gaze is sharp, searching.

“Makki, if there’s something you want to speak to me about, you can just say it, y’know. Doesn’t have to be ‘for publicity'.”

“Ah, well, just–” He flounders for a reply, and Oikawa opens his other eye to stare, head cocked.

Hanamaki give in with a sigh, head dropping to his chest and mumbles, “I want to kiss you.”

Oikawa cracks a little smile. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Only because this job makes me pretty thick-skinned.”

The brunet hums in acknowledgement, grabbing his hand before he can pick up his brush. “You can. But later.”

He wasn’t sure he heard that right. “What?”

“You can kiss me,” Oikawa repeats, gentle smile in place. “But do you have feelings for me, or is it just a whim?”

His mouth dries up then, and he can no longer look at him.

Light fingers press on his wrist, tapping for attention. “Makki. I’m not going to hate you, no matter what your answer is. You can tell me,” he says gently, and Hanamaki gulps.

“I– Yes.” He still can’t look up, until a hand enters his vision, pulling on his chin so that grey meets brown.

“Yes to the feelings, or the whim?”

“The feelings,” he whispers, and Oikawa’s smile widens.

“Then kiss me.” His eyes turn serious then, adding, “But I think you should know, before you do, that I’m asexual.”

Hanamaki gapes, pieces clicking into place, finally, finally comprehending why he was always so blasé about it. “Then maybe I shouldn’t, if you’re uncomfortable–"

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “I’m not uncomfortable with it, but I don’t get any feelings from it. You can kiss me, but I won’t get as much enjoyment from it as you do.”

“Ah, um, okay?”

The brunet laughs. “Just kiss me. But later, we have a tutorial to finish.”

Hanamaki picks up his brush sheepishly, dabbing it on a colour and instructing him to close his eyes.

When they do get to the promised kiss, Hanamaki feels giddy, light, but it’s the little whisper of I like you too in his ear that really makes his heart flutter.

 vi. Confirmation

“Yo, Iwaizumi.”

“Yeah?”

“Have you heard from Oikawa or Hanamaki lately?”

“No?”

“Bit weird, don’t you think?” He says casually. “They’re not the type to go radio silent.”

“Enjoy the silence while you can,” his companion mumbles. “I’ve got a feeling they’re planning something.”

“Oh?” He leans in, resting his chin on top of his head. “Do share.”

Iwaizumi shakes his head to get him off, tilting his head back to glare. “Don’t do that.” When Matsukawa doesn’t say anything, he gives him a sour look and hits him with his pen.

“Okay, okay, geez.” He backs off, sighing over the back of the couch. “So what are they planning?”

“Did you know they kissed?”

“Oh, you mean that thing where people touch their mouths together?”

Iwaizumi raises a dictionary this time, and he hurriedly backs away.

“No, no, I didn’t know they kissed. How’d it happen?”

“Apparently Hanamaki confessed while they were filming the Halloween make-up tutorial.” He picks up his pen, sketching something nonchalantly. “Oikawa was saying something about telling the viewers.”

“…I thought he was radio silent?”

“He was radio silent after screaming about it for an hour. Would’ve been two, but I think Hanamaki went over.”

Matsukawa hums, hooking his chin over the back of the couch to watch him draw. He already knows all this, but he needed an opening.

When did he get more chicken than Hanamaki?

He sighs.

“So.”

“Yes?”

“I like you.”

“I am aware.”

“Oh?”

“Mm.”

“…Iwaizumi.”

“What?”

Matsukawa reaches over, pulls the pen out of his hand. He gets an annoyed glare for that, but his heart is pumping erratically, nervousness eating at him.

“I like you,” he says slowly, watching for a reaction. “And this is a confession, not me reminding you that I’m your friend.”

Iwaizumi gapes for a moment, before a slow smile spreads across his face. “I know.”

“Do you?”

(His heart is beating too fast, too fast, a hummingbird trapped behind his ribs. )

“I’m grey-aromantic, not stupid,” he tells him, flicking his forehead. “But I do like you too.”

Matsukawa exhales, hard pounding diluting into thrilled flutters, a dumb smile lifting his lips. “Since you’re aromantic and not asexual, can I kiss you?”

“I was waiting for you to ask.”

It’s a short, sweet kiss, nothing like what he experimented with Hanamaki, but it’s because it’s short that it means so much more.

 vii. Declaration

“So anyway, I was thinking that we do a big outing, all four of us, and leak that we’re gonna be out so that the viewers know–”

“No.”

“No.”

“I’ll do it if we get to stop by the bakery and do the other plan.”

Two sets of incredulous eyes stare at him, while Oikawa claps in delight. “Done!”

“I did not agree to this.”

“I like the bakery idea.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Blackmail, Hajime, blackmail.”

“I am a pure, kind, soul, and I will not engage in your nefarious activities–”

“Iwa-chan, please.”

“Innocent, you are not.”

“I was before this job.”

“Past tense, present tense – you’re still no innocent.”

“How about the day after tomorrow?” Oikawa interrupts loudly. “I need some new outfits anyway.”

Matsukawa pretends to think. “Well, the undressing part of that plan sounds like a good idea–”

“Mattsun, keep your dirty thoughts to yourself.”

“Your bedroom is right there, save the thoughts for later.”

“Shinjuku sound good to you?” Iwaizumi asks. “Or Harajuku, there’s this cosplay I’ve been meaning to draw.”

“Harajuku.”

“Harajuku.”

“Harajuku, Shinjuku, and then the bakery. Or the bakery first, it doesn’t matter.”

“Alright, and done!” Oikawa drops his phone onto the table triumphantly. “Make sure you all dress in bright colours, we need to be very visible.”

Everyone groans, but there are no objections.

-----

“Makki, someone's following us.”

“You set this up so that people could follow us.”

“Well, yeah, but–”

“Changing room.” Hanamaki shoves an armful of clothes at him, pushing him to the back of the store. “I have a bit of a plan.”

“Will it get them off our tail?”

“Maybe. But it’ll definitely distract them for a bit.”

“Okay.”

Matsukawa comes up to him as Oikawa draws the curtain, holding up two shirts. “Yea or nay?”

“For you or for Iwaizumi?”

“I like how you think.” He turns away, calling for his boyfriend, and Hanamaki grins. He hears the curtain being pulled back then, and holds up a finger.

“One second, I need to get my camera app open.”

A fond huff. “Makki, it’s just a shirt.”

“It’s a very good shirt.” He holds up his phone. “Now pose.”

“Really, now, this is too much.” But he places one hand on his hip anyway, holding the other up in a peace sign and winking.

Hanamaki snaps the photo, then lifts his hand to kiss it lightly. “Majestic.”

“Of course,” the brunet preens. “Who do you think I am?”

“The great Oikawa Tooru, who will not be getting milk bread if he doesn’t hurry up, because the bakery will be closed.”

“Oh my goodness, it’s noon.”

“I know right?! Hurry up.”

Iwaizumi walks past them with a pair of jeans and sighs. “Idiots.”

“Unfortunately, they’re our friends.”

“We should ditch them.”

“Soon, soon.” Matsukawa forces a hanger into his hands. “But first, try this. We should get matching shirts.”

Iwaizumi gives him a sour look. “I’m not ready for humiliation.”

“Please, it’s just a cloud shirt. A cute cloud shirt.”

“Why am I going to listen to you?”

“Because you like me.” Matsukawa leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Please?”

“Fine, fine.” He steps into a changing room, and once the curtain is drawn, Matsukawa shoots Hanamaki a thumbs up.

His friend grins, waving his phone at him, so he pulls his own out, scrolling through the wave of notifications.

What he sees makes his eyebrows disappear into his hairline, and he quickly opens his messaging app.

[Matsukawa]: Wow the stalking is real

[Hanamaki]: ikr

[Hanamaki]: bt theyre so shocked lmao

[Matsukawa]: Gdbye to those iwaoi fantasies lolol

[Hanamaki]: hanaoi sounds btr anyway

[Matsukawa]: so does matsuiwa

[Hanamaki]: nah I call iwamatsu

[Matsukawa]: Wht makes u think he tops

[Hanamaki]: u mean u dnt swap?

[Matsukawa]: Not yet past 3rd base

[Hanamaki]: hah

[Matsukawa]: shush, sme of us r romantic

“Issei, stop texting Hanamaki and let’s go.” Iwaizumi pulls his shoes on and takes his hand, dragging him to the checkout. “I know the publicity is very shocking, but the mission here is to outdo them.”

“Oh? I didn’t take you for the PDA sort.”

“Sacrifices must be made. By that, I mean my dignity.”

“How touching.”

Iwaizumi yanks him down and fuses their lips, a hard short kiss that ends with a feral grin. “Hanamaki bet me five thousand yen.”

“Now there’s the motive.” Matsukawa puts his arm around his waist, tugging him closer. “If you win, you’re treating me.”

“Of course, of course. But first we have to win.”

“Iwa-chan, no cheating!”

Iwaizumi twists to smirk at him. “All’s fair in love and war.”

“Oh, you are on.”