#I normally wouldn't bring back something but

[mangostarjam]

you've been touching him a lot since he got back.

itoshi sae doesn't do anything about it — doesn't dissuade you from tugging at his sleeve or sliding his jacket zipper back and forth while you talk. doesn't comment or bring your attention to it.

but he watches.

you've been around him a lot since his plane landed, making up for all the time he's spent abroad, as if your daily chat threads haven't been enough. most of the time it's just the two of you, the way it used to be. sometimes his brother is around, though thankfully it doesn't seem like you've gotten any closer to rin since sae left.

other times there's a group, mostly your friends, a mix of guys and girls who don't seem to know what to do with themselves around him. sae is used to this — fame brings strange things to light — but you treat him as you always have, except for the touching.

you don't touch anyone else.

it makes him think.

sae has his reasons. he's never let your relationship get past that line, drawn in the sand. he's a professional football player on the other side of the world, and you have a life here. you have friends (even though you still call him your best friend), you have a job (that you complain about all the time), you have family (that can't be bothered to ever congratulate you on anything).

it wouldn't be right — to make you leave. to take you away. not when he needs to focus on being the best in the world.

(he is the best in the world. all those years ago he showed the U-20 team in japan the difference between them, the way the most they could hope for was dating a gravure model. sae never cared about that aspect. he already had you.)

he lets you touch him, but he doesn't touch you back. he keeps you at arm's length — where you're safe.

and then you ask him to be your wingman.

someone else — touching you? kissing you? having you? unthinkable. sae steps out of the shower and barely dries off before pulling on his briefs and pants. steps into his room and there you are, sitting on his bed, looking good, if a little sad.

he considers telling you to get your passport updated and catches the way your eyes trail down his form. maybe this conversation would be easier if he's wearing a shirt — your gaze is too heated, too distracting. you probably think you're being sneaky, hiding your feelings as best as you can, but sae knows you.

and your casual touches are ocean waves washing that line in the sand away.

sae walks towards his closet when it happens again. your finger in his belt loop, stopping him in his tracks. "what?"

"you were ignoring me," you say. "i asked if my outfit is okay."

your outfit is more than okay. "i would have told you to change if it wasn't."

"if you're going to be my wingman, shouldn't you hype me up?" you huff.

sae feels his jaw clench at the reminder. "no," he says, and his tone comes out cold. you don't seem to notice, falling back on his bed and testing every bit of self control in his grasp. "this is a waste of time."

he goes to pull on a shirt before he does something drastic. you're saying something, but it hardly matters when his flight leaves if you'll be on the plane with him. you've covered your eyes with your forearm, so you miss the way he pauses at the foot of the bed, teal eyes drinking in your form splayed out so defenselessly.

sae climbs over you silently, knees nudging yours apart, hands planted on either side of your body. "this is a waste of time," he repeats, watching with amusement as you take in his position. a blush sweeps across your face, but you don't push him off. that's a good sign, at least.

"what, you think i'm not worth being a wingman for?" you ask. silly. you have no idea.

and then you reach for his belt loops again, as if that's a totally normal thing to do and not something that drives him a little nuts every time. sae prides himself on his control, though, so he doesn't lean down to kiss you just yet.

"tell me," sae says, "have you become this touchy with all your friends since i've been gone?"

"n-no?"

it's cute, how wide your eyes get. sae leans down a little closer. feels your breaths on his lips. still doesn't kiss you — yet. "then i won't be your wingman. you don't need one."

"why not?"

do you know how breathless you sound? sae considers his apartment in spain, how he'll need to make sure the bedroom doesn't share any walls with the neighbors. the way you sound is all for him and him alone.

"because you have a boyfriend, now."

(companion piece to this)

[witherby]

what would be littlest wayne's first word be?

I was thinking of something simple or sweet, but then I got the funniest idea on the planet.

The Littlest Wayne: First Words

You were babbling a lot more lately. Your family all knew it meant you were likely going to say your first words soon, and the fighting over who got to have your attention increased tenfold. It had gotten to the point that your brothers were practically kidnapping you to monopolize your time and attention. Bruce put his foot down and ended that whole charade when it stopped being endearing and became dangerous.

("Really, Damian? Your skill in combat is not in question, it has never been in question, but you cannot bring them on patrol with you on the off-chance they happen to say their first words in the middle of the night!")

So, Bruce takes you to the Watchtower anytime he has a Justice League meeting. It pisses off all of his sons, but he's arguably bringing you to the safest spot in the galaxy. Also, he's your father. It's not kidnapping if you're kidnapping your own child. Okay, it is, it very much still is, but that's not the point.

"Okay, Mouse," he murmurs, easing you onto the floor and handing you a stuffed teddy bear. "The meeting's only an hour, then we're going back home. Dada will take you home."

(Maybe he wants to steer you towards your first word himself. Sue him, he's just a man at the end of the day.)

You take the bear, staring openly at your father. You don't see him often in the Batman suit, so he's very visually appealing at the moment. Bruce allows himself a small smile, gently pinching your cheek, then he steps out of the way when Diana arrives.

"The babyyy!" She whisper-yells, kneeling next to the playpen. "Hello, little one! It's such a treat when Batman brings you around!"

You make some soft, babbling noises. Mostly you're making raspberries. It's a fascinating sound. Diana melts and wipes some drool from your chin.

"Someone's getting close to their first words. My mother said mine was "maim." I remember that conversation fondly..."

Bruce has to remind himself that Diana grew up on an island inhabited by immortal warrior women. "Maim" is a perfectly normal first word for an immortal warrior baby.

The other Leaguers start quickly filing into the meeting room, each of them stopping cheerfully to greet you. It makes something fond bloom in Bruce's chest, and you coo and openly admire all the people with bright, primary colors all over their bodies. You're busy trying to chew on Superman's cape when a glowing, green light enters your periphery, and you drop the fabric in favor of staring at the Green Lantern.

"Oh, bring your kid to work day, huh, Spooks?" Hal actually scoops you up out of the pen and cradles you to his chest, grinning down at you. "Hey, kiddo!"

"Mmmnnn," you mutter intelligently, reaching for his mask. Every time you manage to pop it off, he just wills another one on. You think this is the most entertaining game ever.

"The kids are taking them out into the field, now," Bruce sighs. "They all want to be the one to hear their first word. Which is fine. It's adorable. I love that they love the baby. But the baby does not belong on Gotham's streets in the middle of the night, especially if guns are involved."

"Oh, yeah, that's pretty bad," Hal says, smiling at you. You pop his domino mask off again, squealing when it dissolves in your fingers and another one materializes over his face. "Uncle Hal would never do that to you, would he? No! No he wouldn't! That's very dangerous!"

"Huh...Hal!"

Everyone freezes. Bruce's jaw actually drops.

"No fucking way," Barry blurts across the room.

"Language. There's a whole baby here, Flash," Oliver says, but he's grinning like an idiot.

"Hal!" You chirp again. "Hal!"

Bruce sinks to his knees. Clark looks like he's trying not to laugh. Barry and Oliver are definitely laughing. Diana is pouting over the fact that your first word was so tame and boring. J'onn doesn't understand why your first word is so important when it just means you'll eventually learn to say more.

Hal is nearly trembling with the flood of emotions. His thing with Bruce is very new, and he's been by the Manor often enough that you obviously know him, but he really hadn't anticipated his name being...being...

"The boys are going to kill me."

"Maybe," Bruce admits, still on the floor. "...it couldn't be dada? It couldn't be uppies? Or Mouse, or any of the other words you hear ten thousand times a day? Even Alfred thought you might try his name first."

"I think we're going to need to postpone the start of the meeting," Clark declares, coughing as a way of clearing his throat and definitely not to disguise his amused huffs. "Let's push it back fifteen minutes."

"Hal!" You chirp again, delighted. You finally pulled Green Lantern's mask off and it didn't disappear. You win!

[billthedrake]

ORAL FIXATION (PART FOUR)

It was Dad's idea but I don't know why I hadn't thought of it. He didn't even bring it up with me in advance. Instead he sprung it one night at dinner.

"So..." Dad said to Mom as we ate. "Junior's gonna help me get in shape."

Mom laughed and looked over at me. "Is that so?"

I played dumb, like I knew what Dad was talking about. "Um, yeah."

"He's letting me tag along on his morning runs," Dad chimed in before I stumbled too much. "And we have a whole gym workout planned, too."

Mom seemed surprised and amused. Dad was a good looking guy with some solid muscle on him, but he spent a lot of time at work, and though he was on his feet most of the day, a doctor doesn't have the most active job.

She looked back and forth between me and Dad. "Well, good for you men," she said, smirking some.

***

I felt a little bad, because I had a good idea what Dad had on his mind. We were both up early the next morning, a little before dawn even. I'd seen Dad in his gym clothes before, but it had been a while, to be honest. But they showed off his hairy meaty legs as we did stretches in the driveway, feeling the cool morning air.

"Where you run to, son?" he asked.

I told him my route and the distance I normally did. We lived a half mile from a park with a nice trail system, so it gave me some variety. "We don't have to do the whole thing, Dad," I said, pulling back my heel to my glutes for that extra stretch, then the other leg. "Just let me know what you're feeling."

"I'm a little out of shape," he admitted. "But I'll keep up."

He did, too. Pretty well, though I knew my pace was faster than his. I slowed down some, but I had that teenage energy working for me. I looked over at him after a couple of miles, and he looked at me.

"Doing OK, Pop?" I asked.

He nodded, a little of breath. "Yeah, Junior."

Only his eyes were on me. Probing, and more than a little hungry. We were circling in the wooded area of the park, and had only passed two joggers so far. The way my father looked at me excited me and gave me a half-stiff dick even mid stride. "You want it, Dad?" I asked quietly.

"Um, yeah," he said, nodding excitedly.

We slowed our gait to a trot and a walk, then I followed as he led us into the woods and behind a larger tree.

I stood and pulled down my shorts as his fingers traced along my bare thighs, his eyes fixed eagerly on my crotch, awaiting his next meal.

Before that morning, I knew Dad was an incredible cocksucker, and I knew we had that forbidden-thrill bond of his blowjobs. But that day I realized just how much Dad needed my cum, how addicted he was to blowing me.

The tree bark was a little scratchy, but I leaned back to steady myself as Dad took me into his mouth. No foreplay really, just nice steady mouth strokes up and down, working extra length down his gullet as he got into it.

I got into it, too, cradling his head gently and silently coaxing him to work my load out. I could see the silver flecks in his brown hair. Respectable doctor on his knees for a hot no-recip incest blowjob.

"Yes," I hissed. I knew we had to be quiet, but I missed talking to Dad while he sucked me. But this was naughty and hot, and I knew we were both worked up. Dad let out his own soft moan around my cock as my dick spurted its first salvo of precum. It had taken only a minute and wouldn't be much longer for the full cum, given how horny I always am in the morning.

Dad worked me more rigorously, deep and with high suction. And doing something with his tongue. That did it. I curled my fingers in his hair and held tightly as I blasted hard. A good seven or eight spurts of his son's seed right into his craw and straight into his belly. Dad sucked it down gratefully.

He didn't belabor the aftershocks but gave my wet dick a gentle kiss as he pulled off, then looked up and winked at me. I could see he was erect when he stood up, but true to form he didn't make any move for reciprocation.

"Maybe that'll slow you down," he whispered with a laugh.

I pulled up my shorts and laughed back.

By the time we got back, Dad's hardon had gone down and I felt more ready for my day than ever. It was surprisingly matter of fact between us, even, as we did our cool-down stretches and talked about how the run was for Dad, what his goal was.

"Tomorrow, same time, buddy?" he asked, giving my shoulder a light punch as we walked into the kitchen to rehydrate.

I'd been in a conditioning phase for football but generally aimed for running every other day. But if Dad was gonna be my running buddy, I'd make it every day for sure.

***

We skipped some mornings, but I got used to the ritual. I was a horny jock, and it was just mindblowingly great to have a fatherly blowjob to start most days. Jake Gehring made a crack about me being in a good mood lately, but for some reason I wasn't sure I should share the development with my buddy. I'm not sure why.... Dad had sucked Jake a couple of times. Given my friend's moods when he showed up at school, I'm sure Mr. Gehring was giving him the same treatment.

I wasn't being greedy, honest, the escalation just kind of happened. Dad had drained me good and well on our morning run, but around 7 o'clock one evening, he knocked on my door and stepped in, barechested and wearing just a pair of shorts. God, he was looking incredible with his lightly furred chest and muscle showing its pump from his workout in our basement home gym. And there was those clean-cut, professional looks. Hot doctor with a secret side.

"Your mother just left for her book club," he announced with a playful grin. "You up for a blow job?"

I liked this side of Dad. Matter of fact. Sexual. Needy.

"Hell yeah," I smiled. "If you're offering." I'd gotten off big that morning, Dad always gets me off well when he sucks. But I was a teen, and I had a pretty high sex drive.

"I'm offering," he grinned back, stepping in and closing the door. "Though maybe we can take our time." He got up on the bed and ran his hands up my legs. Dad seemed to really like my legs, or maybe that was his way of foreplay to get me going.

"You want me to last longer?" I asked. Maybe not insecure but feeling like a young guy with a lot to learn about sex. "You get me so worked up, it's sometimes hard to last," I admitted.

Dad chuckled. "I like that, Junior," he said. "I love when you cum fast... but I was thinking it would be fun to edge you a little tonight.... I mean, we have the time to play."

I knew what edging was, but never had really done it. I was usually too impatient to cum. "Sounds hot, Dad."

And like that, my father scooted up and cautiously met me for a kiss. We'd kissed before, but not much. I got the sense Dad only let himself do it when he was really horny. He was really horny now, I could tell by the feel of his boner in his shorts, pressing against mine.

I fucking loved it, though. I mean, I love kissing in general and making out with Dad was a mind fuck and a half that made my cock drip big time.

We both laughed as we broke the kiss. Like we'd gotten carried away.

"You OK with this, Junior?" Dad asked.

I ran my hands along his bare flank, feeling his warmth and firm muscle beneath the middle age softness. "Dad... you're fucking sucking my cock every day... of course I'm gonna be OK with this."

I worried I was too direct, but Dad just chuckled. "You're a horny kid all right," he said. Now his fingers ran underneath my T-shirt, feeling up my bare muscle. "And I'm VERY happy to take care of my hot young man." From anyone else that would have sounded slutty, but from Dad, it was just weirdly paternal and hot.

I gulped. "God, Dad."

"You'd say if we were doing this too much, right?" he looked in my eye, even as his fingers now ran beneath the elastic waistband of my mesh shorts.

I gulped and nodded. My cock lurched, feeling the aching closeness of his hand. It was like it had been 12 days since I'd last gotten off, not 12 hours. "Trust me, Dad... if anything it's the opposite."

That made him pause and look right into my eye. "You want it more, Junior."

My throat felt dry and I felt hot and sexual. "Fuck, Dad," I didn't normnally curse like that around my father, but something about the blowjobs changed the dynamic. "I don't mean it like what you're doing for me isn't enough... but yeah, I think about it a lot."

Dad peeled down my shorts, taking my briefs with them. My hardon was bared for him, throbbing and rigid. He took a second to openly admire it. Like he did each morning on our runs, but instead of a second to get a look, he had as much time as he wanted. We didn't need to rush this.

"We'll figure out a way, buddy," he said. "Put you on the twice a day plan," he winked. Then more softly he growled. "Damn, I love your cock so much son."

His fingers now traced my length slowly, openly, his eyes going from my dick and back up to meet my gaze. His blowjobs were incredible, but there was something powerful and intimate about this, too.

"Um, Dad," I said, a little nervous.

He looked back up at me. "Yeah, buddy?" In that you-can-ask-me-anything tone he'd use in our father-son chats.

Here goes. "I notice you rarely get off yourself," I said.

Dad seemed prepared for my comment, like he was surprised I hadn't asked him before. "I like to save it for your mother, Junior," he answered. "Makes me feel less guilty about what we're doing." Then fixing my gaze... "Too much information?"

I shook my head. "All good, Dad. Just wanna make sure.... you know... I don't wanna be an asshole or anything."

"We're good, son," Dad said, giving my bone a steadier stroke now. "Truth is, it's my way of edging, too.... can't get enough."

I sat up on my elbows, looking down. I wanted him to suck me so bad now. "Anytime you want it, Dad, just let me know. For real... I'm always horny."

Dad didn't reply but just moistened his lips. Then he leaned over and took my stick in between his surprisingly soft lips. At some point I'd have to ask him where he learned to suck dick so well. But that could wait. For now, I just enjoyed the feel of his warm wet mouth making love to my prick. Up and down, bobbing with fuller strokes till he was deep throating me.

"Dad!" I cried. I knew I'd cum any second.

Dad pulled off instantly and attacked my balls. It was the perfect stimulation, but one that fed my lust without making me boil over. He did this for a minute than took my whole cock on again.

Edging or not, we could only go a couple of times at this before my load had a mind of its own. As Dad was making his retreat from my dick, I was already firing against his tongue. My ejaculation caught him by surprise but he went back into full on milking mode to suck my balls dry.

"Sorry, Dad," I said as he finally came up from my lap.

Dad grinned. "Not a problem, son.... was it good?"

"The best," I answered. "I just know you wanted to go longer tonight."

Dad scooted up to lie beside me. "Well, your mother will be out till about 10...." he reached down and ran his fingers along my spit and cum wet half-hard dong. "You think maybe you got another in you?"

I smirked back at him. "I'd say so, Dad... definitely."

That was the first day Dad swallowed three of my loads, but not the last.

****

I wasn't real tight with Matt Carson, I mean he seemed a cool enough guy but he wasn't a football jock and was on the quieter side. Almost nerdy quiet. But he was friendly in his way as he stopped me in the hall one day between periods at school.

"Hey Mike," he said. Unlike guys on the team or my close buddies, Matt didn't call me by my last name. I guess I used his first name, too.

"Matt," I said, not giving him a fist bump like I might my buddies. "What's up?"

"What are your plans Saturday?" It was December and it was the rare week when the high school had no sports going on.

I shrugged. "No plans yet. Why?"

He was still guarded but more talkative than I'd ever seen him. "It's my birthday this weekend and I thought of having a few guys over. If you're interested..."

This surprised me. I wasn't a close bud with Matt. Then again, I worried he was the kind of dude who didn't have any close buds. I felt bad. "Sure, sounds cool," I said. Maybe I was getting myself into an awkward evening, but whatever.

I was glad to see a big smile on Matt's face. "Awesome, man... I wasn't sure..." he started. "It's at 7, just pizza and stuff... but guys are free to stay over if they want." There was something to the look in his eye that made me wonder if something was up. Maybe it wouldn't be a key party but a Mr. Carson BJ might be in the works. "I'll check with my folks," I said. "But I'll see you at 7."

We bumped fists and walked on to our classes.

****

It did seem to be just pizza and stuff. I sat wondering if my Dad was upset or jealous. Mom had been the one I asked for permission to stay over at Matt's, and I could see Dad's quiet but noticeable facial expression. I'd have to clear the air with him later, but part of me resented this part of our weird affair.

Especially because it didn't look like anything sexual was even going to happen.

However, around 9:00, Drew, one of Matt's basketball teammates, and Connor, one of the popular kids in school, had to go. I think Drew's parents were pretty strict and maybe religious, whereas Connor just had a hot date. That left Matt, me, my teammate Alex Ramirez, and another basketball player, Daryl, a tall chocolate-skinned jock who was kind of moody when I'd met him before but now seemed a lot more chill.

We were playing video games and I hadn't noticed Daryl had gone more than a couple of minutes. Hell, maybe he was just gone a couple of minutes. But he came back with a conspiratorial grin on his face. "Dayum, Matty... your old man has skills all right."

I was caught off guard, my face darting between the guys... Daryl, with his shit-eating grin, then Matt, who blushed some, then Alex who was amused by my surprised reaction.

"I guess you missed the last key party huh, Walsh?" Rodriguez teased, leaning back to spread his legs. "We got a new member to the club," he explained, gesturing toward Daryl.

Daryl now was getting a more earnest look on his face, leaning in some as he fixed me with his gaze. "Matty says your dad's a great cocksucker."

Part of me wanted to tell the guy not to talk about my father like that. But he was right, and besides, the appeal of the guys talk won me over. "Fuck, dude, I can't resist a blowjob from him."

Alex was now getting impatient. He gripped his crotch, where a thick rod rode up in his sweats. "It is my turn, Carson?" he asked the host. "I'm not supposed to fuck around without Dad there, so keep this a secret, OK?"

Matt chuckled. "Yeah, you got it."

I watched the hunky tight end stand up. Alex had the height, build, and athleticism of a star player, and it turns out he had the tool to match. Mr. Carson was gonna get a mouthful.

Now Matt seemed to get his normal shy side coming out. "You OK with this Mike?" he asked. "I figured..."

"Yeah," I said. "I wasn't sure if it was gonna be this kind of party, but that's very cool."

Carson smiled. "It's kind of my birthday present, actually. Dad putting out for my buddies," he explained. "It's been one of my fantasies."

Daryl laughed as he picked up the control to take over playing the video game. "You are one kinky motherfucker."

Carson seemed to relax. I realized he craved to be teased, to be one of the guys.

"What's the fantasy?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Dad taking care of you all. Multiple times if you want."

"I'm gonna want," Daryl piped, reaching down to rearrange his junk. He seemed hung, but not quite as big as Matt, who had a really long schlong. "Shi-ut"

"Yeah, me too," I said. Mr. Carson had never drawn Dad's keys at one of our oral parties, so I'd not yet experienced his mouth.

I'd have to wait a while longer. Rodriguez was taking his own sweet time, damnit. I tried to make small talk with Matt while Daryl played his turn, but I was getting harder by the minute.

"Your Dad OK with you having fun tonight?" Matt finally asked, nodding to my boner.

"I don't know, actually," I said. "We didn't talk about it. I don't really give a fuck," I said, even though maybe I did.

Alex finally came back in, olive complexion flush redder and a his hair actually sweaty. "Damn, Carson," he said to Matt. "Who's birthday is it?"

Already I was standing up, impatient to claim my first blowjob.

I sort of knew my way around the Carson McMansion, and I saw the light from the end of the hall upstairs saying where the master bedroom was. The door was ajar, and I quietly stepped up and gave a little knock.

"Mr. Carson?" I asked. I don't know why, but I was in polite guest mode.

"Yep," came the deep voice inside. "Come in."

There was a magnificent sight. Dave Carson's 40-something body naked and splayed face down, all 6'6" of his lean daddy build lying on the king sized bed. For a man of his build, his ass was surprisingly round, an almost pert bubble butt dusted in hair. Even from a few feet away, I could see the buns were wet.

Mr. Carson turned his head back but didn't make a motion to move. "There's lube on the nightstand," he said matter of factly. "And rubbers if you want. None of the other guys did," he chuckled before laying his face back down on the pillow.

I wouldn't say I never thought about fucking, but I'd never thought about fucking one of the key party dads. There had always been such a strict oral-only rule. But this wasn't a key party and the usual rules clearly didn't apply.

I stepped up and ran my hand along his calves. Furry and warm, I don't know why but it felt naughtier than normal to touch Mr. Carson like this. "Did Daryl and A both do you, Mr. C?"

He nodded. "Drew, too. Twice. I'm gonna be a little wet down there, Mike."

Fuck. I didn't know if this was crossing some line Dad didn't want me to cross. Like Rodriguez said, this secret could stay with the guys at the party. I slipped down my sweats and kicked them aside. I almost didn't both removing my T shirt but I enjoyed the dreamy smile on Mr. Carson's face as I did.

Yeah, I had a great body, thick and toned and athletic, but I was also just a high school senior who felt like a goddamn porn star just then. I climbed up on the bed, kneeling behind Matt's dad first, so I could run my hands along his hamstrings and ass muscle, taking it all in. My first fuck with a guy.

I dipped my finger in the crack. Mr. C wasn't kidding, he was wet as fuck. I wouldn't need lube on my cock. I didn't know what I was doing other than imitating porn videos. It was a good thing the man was all loose now and relaxed. As I stretched out on his warm body and guided my prick in place, his hole welcomed me instantly, its elastic wetness opening for my cock.

"Fuck!" I grunted.

"Your first, Mike?" Dave Carson asked excitedly. Realizing.

"Hell yes," I said. Now powering in for my first real thrust inside another man. The entry had been loose but once I bottomed out I felt the snugness of his guts around me.

I fucked in again.

"Go for it," Mr. Carson urged. "Fuck me."

The man braced his hands on the mattress, fingers digging in a little when I bottomed out a little too hard or deep. But he didn't complain or tell me to slow down. So I rode it out. I loved getting head, and I'd continue to love it. But this was different and exciting and a completely different set of sensations along my prick. I wanted to maximize that feeling so I fucked faster. Harder.

I planted my lips along Mr. Carson's neck. I got some height on me, but Mr. C is one tall motherfucker. Or I was a dadfucker. The idea had me cumming, my own dad and Mr. Carson melding into one.

When I finally dismounted, my dick was coated in frothy cum.

"Bring it here, stud," came the deep voice in soft instruction.

"You sure?" I asked. I mean, the man's hole was clean, but there was a lot of lube and a lot more sperm on my dick.

He just scooted around to take me in between his lips. Then descended deeper. I learned that day the difference between a real blowjob suck and a clean off suck. Mr. Carson gave it a soft kiss as he pulled off.

"You're amazing, Mike," he said. His blue eyes looked up at me. It was wild this masculine man was so into dick, but then again I could say that about my dad, or Mr. Gehring or Mr. Rodriguez. "Hopefully you're up for more later."

"Yes, sir," I said in dumb politeness. Now embarrassed, I found my sweats and T-shirt and slipped them on.

Matt was waiting outside the door, naked and hard with the long cock sticking up. He'd watched us.

"Hot, bro," he grinned.

"Yeah," I said. I leaned in to whisper. "You do this often?" I had to ask. I wasn't the brightest guy maybe.

Matt nodded with a pride glee. "All the time. It's hot, right?"

He didn't give me a chance to answer the rhetorical question. He patted my shoulder and walked past me into his father's bedroom.

I gave them their privacy.

****

I fucked Mr. Carson twice more that night. The third time I barely had anything to shoot, but I wanted the chance to enjoy the new experience again. I didn't keep track of the other guys, but they did him at least that much.

We woke up late, and Mr. Carson was still sleeping in. Matt was back to his quiet mode and could have been having regrets, so we kept things cool, talking about school stuff.

I got home by 11. Dad had a nervous look on his face. I felt frustrated. But I kept my poker face as I told my parents I had a good time and checked in. I then went off to shower. I had homework to do and then get to the gym.

I'd barely slipped on my underwear when Dad knocked on the door.

"Have fun, buddy?" he asked quietly, slipping into my room.

I nodded. I loved showing off my body to my father. Something about fucking Mr. Carson made me feel like an even bigger stud than normal. "You mad, Dad?"

"Not if it's what you want, Junior," he said. Then dropping to a whisper he added. "I know I don't take care of your needs enough."

Holy head fuck, Dad knew how to drive me crazy. The man sucked me at least once a day now, and often two or three times. And here was my mild-mannered, professional father acting like it wasn't enough.

"Shut the door, Dad," I whispered.

He got an excited look on his face. This was risky as fuck.

I peeled down my underwear and let my prick flop out. Unbelievably it was firming up again. Dad crouched down and hungrily caught the expanding head in his mouth. I lately learned he loved to have me go hard in his mouth. He was getting that today and going wild, moaning around my teen meat and scarfing it down. Within seconds I was fully erect and Dad was bobbing up and down on me.

This was me with a sex hangover going for hair of the dog. One of my Dad's prize-winning blowjobs. Nasty incest sucking. I watched his salt pepper hair and his hunched shoulders and savored the soft squishy sucking sounds combined with his quiet moans. Dad was going to have to work a little harder for this load, but he was up to the task. It might have been his best technique to date, the right combination of hard and silky-soft. Fingers on my ball sac, coaxing out my load.

I reached down and gripped his shoulder, giving him a soft squeeze to let him know I was coming. He hoovered down my semen as fast as I fed it to him. I was lightheaded, the orgasm was that good.

And as quickly as it started Dad retreated, pulling off and wiping his chin, before standing up. Nervously he darted to the door, listening ear to the wood, before he cracked it open, then slipped outside.

****

I was too tired for more that day, and Dad didn't pester me for anything more. I got a quickie Monday morning as Mom showered. But on Tuesday Dad somehow found time to get me off three times. Mom's book club was the best thing ever, I decided.

I lay back on the bed as Dad knelt between my spread legs, softly kissing my now sated genitals.

"For spring break, some of the dads are organizing a beach trip. Just guys," he said.

"Yeah?" I asked, perking up at the implications Dad seemed to be dropping.

He grinned and looked up at me. Like it was a chore to break eye contact with my dick. "If that appeals to you, Junior."

"Oh yeah. Who's gonna be there?"

"The usual. Carson, Gehring, and Heller. We're working on Joe Marino."

"Hot," I said. My prick was filling out some thinking of the possibilities. "Dad..." I said, my voice getting more serious. "I fucked Mr. Carson." I was going to keep this a secret, but I wanted to clear the air.

"Oh," Dad said, taken aback. He then got his encouraging paternal expression. "You enjoy that, Junior?"

I nodded. "A lot. Yeah."

He seemed to take that in. "I don't think I could do that," he said simply.

"I'm not expecting you to, Dad," I said. "Unless you wanted to." I had to throw the idea out there.

"Can we just keep it to this?" he asked.

"Absolutely," I replied. My dick was hard now. I pushed it down, offering to Dad in case he wanted to go for number four. "How bout now?"

He smiled. "You got a beautiful cock, Junior." He scooted forth and began licking me again.

"And I have the best cocksucker for a father," I teased. I always worried I was going too far when I said stuff like that, but Dad seemed more excited now, swallowing me deeper. I placed my hand on the back his neck and playfully held him there a couple of seconds before took more meat into his craw.

Hell yes we were going for number four. Dad taking his time, me focusing my erotic thoughts to get off again. To get over the finish line for Dad.

And as I came down from my intense fourth come, I decided I was going to have to do something special for Dad, to thank him for taking such good care of me.

[sirxlla]

I Need You Like Water

----------------------------------------------------

Warnings:

Prompt: Friends who shower together

Notes: gender of reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said it's all under the cut-

Showering with Damian with nothing new especially after a really long night on patrol. Normally, the both of you could barely stand up so having someone else to watch you while you we're showering was something that blossomed out of worry rather than anything else. Tonight, fortunately was not one of those nights but the normality of showering with your best friend was still routine.

Wet skin slipped and slided against itself, yours against his. It had all become overly comfortable and vulnerable. He was so surprisingly kind and soft when no one was around. Damian washed your hair, the bubbles frothing up between his fingers as you leaned back onto him.

"You should be more careful, you can't be taking hits the way you are." The vibration of his voice poured into you from behind. His chest was warm against your back.

"I take the hits so you don't have to." Peering back at him with a bit of a teasing smirk as you bite your lip. You were feeling playful tonight and he was being rather nice. Spinning around, you face twords him looking into his green eyes.

"Can't have my Booty-ful Badass Bestie getting hit cause then I lose my eye candy." You teased and he tried to hide a smile as he tilted your head back to rinse your hair.

"You're trouble, that's all you are and I only keep you around cause you look like a baby kitten but act like a damn cheetah. My Little Trojan Horse." Damian jokes his mouth dipping down to press gentle kisses to the bruise on your cheek, you took it as a opportunity to boldly kiss him. Bringing your lips to his you kissed him softly like a butterfly landing on the delicate flower that is his lips.

Your kiss is soft and careful of his almost fully healed busted lip, your left hand finding his cheek and your other playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He groaned as your nails naked through his hair, a secret weakness to such a strong man. His arms wrapped around you, one of his hands moving to your lower back pressing his body into yours.

You could feel his hardness against your leg but didn't think twice of it because it's a natural reaction, it didnt 100% meant he wanted to go any further and unless he actually indicated he wanted to go further you weren't going to push him to.

"If you and I weren't friends I'd have you up against the shower glass." He moaned the words into your lips.

"Us being friends stops us how?" Your mouth partially against his as you spoke.

"Wouldn't it ruin this? Like- complicate this?" His dark wet hair stuck against his forehead, he looked cute as he rubbed your hips absentmindedly.

"No...Not if you don't want it to be...Dami, I- I'm okay if you want less or more or casual. I just want you in my life, okay?" You say as your fingers barely caress his wet jaw. His confidence comes back up quickly as he pushes you against the tile and pins your hands above your head.

"You sure, Amai Tenshi?" He spoke to you in one of his various languages he knew, being his recent favorite Japanese and French. He'd had been calling you "Amai Tenshi" in Japanese and "Mon Cheri" in French a lot more often. It was easy to know what Mon Cheri meant but Amai Tenshi was harder to figure out. You didnt wanna ask cause you didnt want him to get embarressed or stop saying it but you knew in the tone in which he said it, it was sweet.

You responded with a nod and your lips already trying to chase his. He lowered his lips to your neck once more but now he was kissing, sucking and biting much more freely. Your wrists and body were pinned to the cool tile behind you as the shower kept hot water pouring onto you both.

His right hand massaged your breast as his left held your wrists in place while his mouth didnt quit prompting you to moan and lean your head back a bit more if that was possible. Damian's hand slowly moved down your body massaging and squeezing as it moved down to pull your thigh over his hip.

"You're sure?" He asks again, he sorta knew the answer by how you were reacting so far and the heat between your thighs raditating into his skin but he was always thorough.

"Oh my fuckin god, yes." You smiled and pulled your hands from his grasp and grabbed his face pulling his face to yours with need and desire, a clear smile upon your lips.

One of his hands found itself in your soaked hair and the other holding up your thighbas he grinded himself into you. He was needy and felt that same ache for you that you felt for him.

You grinded your wet skin against his, he wanted to make sure you were ready before he slipped in so he guided your body against his and once he knew you were ready he pushed his way in, stretching your walls that was entirely everything but unwelcome. Your lips found his again as he started to push his hips against yours which made a moan leave your lips.

Your hips moved with a slow rhythm, a natural feel to them, following his guidance and meeting his pace. Damian's mouth moved to explore your neck and chest leaving a trail of kisses and bites as he went, not leaving any part untouched.

"You feel so good, Mon Cheri." He groaned into your neck as he placed his head there and breathed in deep, taking in your scent as he moved in and out of you. Your hand moved to hold the back of his head, holding him against your skin encouraging him as you pant and smile.

His hips moved faster, moving a hand down your back and to your ass to squeeze as he guided your hips. You eyes fell closes as you moaned on cloud nine.

You could feel the heat of his body against yours, His hands seemed to be everywhere all at once, pulling and guiding your body to move for him and only him.

"You're mine, Amai Tenshi. Say you're mine. Please." He groaned, pleaded and demanded all at once as he spoke into your neck, his lips finding the sensitive skin there leaving a dark bruise.

His movements became more erratic as your walls fluttered and milked at him, your body craving his touch as you held onto him tightly. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin trying to pull him closer to you.

"Oh, f-fuck. You're- You're close aren't you?" He groaned his head coming up so his forehead was resting against yours. He said as he looked into your eyes, his gaze holding yours captive in his.

"Yeah- Fu- Fuck, Beloved." you responded as your breath comes out in small gasps as he kept his quick and deep pace. His movements hit you just right, bringing you right to where he wanted you. Calling him "Beloved" was sacred to him and meant the world in his mind. You felt your eyes start to tear up as he hit you just right once more.

"C'mere-" Damian spoke softly gently held your face. He reached down and rubbed your clit, his eyes gazing deeply into yours. He chased his high and wss nearing it with you.

"Relax, I've got you. I'm right here. Come for me." He panted out before his hips deeped their movement against yours, he picked up his pace even more. Damian's lips found yours once more, his tongue slipped into your mouth. He groaned against your lips as he neared the edge, his hands holding yours as he squeezed them, coming as he felt you do as well.

Both of you panting against one another in the now cooling water. Water dripped off the both of you.

"I think the hot water's out." Damian almost laughed as he slowly pulled out.

You groaned as he did so, still trying to catch your breath and keep yourself up, your knees feeling weak and jelly-like. He lowered your thigh and used the showerhead to clean the mess between your thighs before picking you up and taking you to his bed. He laid you down and dried you off.

"You alright, Amai Tenshi?" He said sweetly as he climbed in beside you and pulled you to his front side. You nodded, he had taken ever last little bit of energy you had from crimefighting and used it to it's last drop.

"Get some sleep." He rubbed your thighs lovingly and turned out the lights.

"Do- Do we have to stay friends?" You asked half asleep.

"Let's talk in the morning, okay? Get some sleep" He whispered as he gently kissed the back of your neck.

-> Masterlist <-

[mixolya]

beneath the stars, we became one: chapter 008.

(my) starboy

you couldn't deny the buzz of excitement in the air as you made your way to the stadium with ayane and milya. tokyo high's football match against one of the rival schools was the event of the season, and everyone was talking about it. your friends were already full of energy, chatting about the players, and milya had a mischievous grin plastered on her face when she kept bringing up rin.

"he's definitely gonna be the one to make the game-winning goal," milya teased, nudging you as you walked. "and then he's going to lock eyes with you, run to you and kiss you."

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the sudden fluttering in your chest. "you wish! stop being so delusional, we're just project partners."

"yeah right, you played valorant with him the whole night last saturday," she shot back.

ayane, who had been quiet up until now, chimed in with a sly grin. "i mean, mi's not wrong. you don't just play valorant with someone for hours unless there's ... something."

"so you're not denying that there's something between you and nagi?", you grinned, leaning in.

ayane's grin faltered for a split second before she recovered, rolling her eyes. "nice try, but we're not talking about me and nagi."

milya jumped in, eyes gleaming with mischief. "oh, but we should! aya, anything you want to share?"

ayane scoffed, crossing her arms. "please, don't turn this around on me. we all know the real story here is y/nnie and her not-so-secret project guy."

"rin is not my 'not-so-secret' anything," you said firmly, though your protest only made them laugh harder.

"right, right," milya teased. "totally normal to spend hours gaming with someone and then show up to cheer him on at his match. super platonic."

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. "i’m literally here because you two wanted to watch the game."

ayane smirked. "and yet, your eyes keep searching for a certain someone on the field. what’s that about?"

"they don’t!" you protested, though you could feel the heat creeping up your neck.

you glared at them both as you sank lower into your seat. "can you two stop? seriously, it's not that deep," you giggled.

milya leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand with a teasing grin. "not that deep, huh? so, if i said rin's looking over here right now, you wouldn't care?"

your heart skipped a beat, but you refused to give them the satisfaction. "he's probably looking at the field, not us," you muttered, crossing your arms defensively.

ayane leaned back in her seat, throwing you a knowing look. "you're awfully quick to defend yourself."

you glanced at the field, trying not to make it obvious. sure enough, rin was in the middle of his warm-ups, passing the ball effortlessly to bachira. his sharp teal eyes scanned the field.

your gaze lingered a second too long, and milya's triumphant laugh pulled you back to reality. "caught you!" she sang, pointing at you.

"will you stop?" you hissed, cheeks burning. "i'm literally just ... watching. it's a public event. that's what people do at these things."

before milya could tease you again, a voice interrupted, pulling all of your attention. "what's this? y/n actually made it to a game?" reo smirked as he and nagi strolled over, both of them in their warm-up gear.

you sighed, already regretting not blending into the crowd. “don't act so surprised. there are no upcoming exams. people go watch games all the time."

nagi tilted his head, his usual sleepy demeanor intact. “but people don’t usually look as uncomfortable as you do right now.”

ayane laughed, nudging you. “it's her first game. go easy on her.”

reo grinned, eyes glinting with amusement. “first game, huh? don’t worry, y/n, you’ll leave here a football fan. maybe even a fan of a certain player.”

milya smirked, leaning closer. “yeah, someone specific comes to mind.”

“right,” you said dryly. “because this is clearly about football and not me being dragged here by you two.”

“dragged?” nagi cut in, tilting his head lazily. “didn’t look like you needed much convincing. what’s the matter, y/n? don’t like sports?”

“i like sports just fine,” you said, giving him a pointed look. “but watching you trip over your own feet during practice isn’t exactly inspiring.”

reo burst out laughing as nagi gave you a deadpan stare. “at least i’m out there playing,” nagi said, voice flat. “what do you even do for fun? knit sweaters?”

“that’s rich coming from someone whose idea of effort is streaming a game for six hours straight,” you raised your eyebrow.

nagi blinked slowly, unimpressed. “says the person who dies first in every game we play.”

“says the guy who didn’t know how to plug in his mic last week,” you fired back.

reo doubled over with laughter. “she’s got you there, nagi.”

“whatever,” nagi muttered, looking away, though you could see the faintest twitch of a smirk on his lips. “at least people actually want to watch me do something.”

“sure, if watching you fall asleep mid-stream counts as content,” you teased.

“hey, coach is calling us,” reo said, glancing back at the field as he straightened up. “we gotta head back.”

nagi stretches his arms. “alright, let's go then.”

“good luck,” ayane said, flashing them a quick smile.

“don’t screw it up,” you added.

reo smirked, throwing a quick wave over his shoulder. "like we ever would. see you after."

with that, he and nagi jogged back to the field, blending seamlessly into the swarm. the crowd grew louder as the announcer's voice echoed through the speakers, signaling the start of the game.

you leaned back in your seat, the excitement in the air almost contagious. the players began to take their positions, and your gaze searched the field until it landed on rin. he was near the center line, stretching one last time before settling into his spot as striker. his teal eyes calmly scanned the field, like he was already calculating his next move.

"you're staring again," ayane leaned closer.

"am not," you muttered, quickly looking away and pretending to adjust your jacket.

the referee's whistle cut through the chatter, and the game kicked off. your focus drifted back to the field as the players moved with practiced precision, but it was rin who held your attention the most.

he moved like he was born to be there - each step deliberate, every pass and run calculated. it wasn't flashy, but it was effective, and you couldn't help but admire him.

as the first half progressed, your heart skipped a beat when rin found himself with the ball near the opposing goal. his sharp turn left the defender confused, and with a clean, decisive strike, he sent the ball sailing into the net.

the crowd roared, and your section erupted in cheers. you, ayane and milya jumped to your feet, clapping and shouting as the energy in the stadium surged. rin turned toward the stands, his expression stoic, as his eyes scanned the crowd.

for a split second, they met yours.

you blinked, the noise around you fading for just a moment. there was something about the way his gaze lingered - was it concentration? as he turned away, you could've sworn you caught the faintest twitch of his lips, almost like a smirk.

"did you see that?" ayane's voice pulled you back to reality.

"see what?" you asked, trying to sound casual.

"bachira almost tackled rin to the ground," she said, pointing at the field. your eyes followed, landing on bachira, who had an arm slung around rin's shoulders, grinning as if he'd just won the lottery. the rest of the team quickly joined in, patting rin on the back.

rin stood in the middle of the chaos, his expression as stoic as ever, though something about the way he carried himself seemed lighter.

-

the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the game. tokyo high had won, and the stands erupted in cheers. players from both teams began shaking hands, but your eyes stayed glued to rin as he walked toward the sideline.

he was still unfazed, barely acknowledging the cheers, though his teammates surrounded him, congratulating him again. bachira jumped on his back, laughing, and even chigiri ruffled rin's hair, earning a sharp glare in return.

"should we head down?" milya asked, already gathering her things.

"yeah, let's go," ayane said, looking at you.

you followed them to the edge of the field, weaving through the celebrating crowd. as you neared your friends, you noticed rin, who now stood a few feet away with a towel draped around his neck.

"we'll go talk to reo," milya said, nudging ayane with a grin. "you go ahead."

with that, they turned to head toward reo, leaving you to make your way over to rin. when you reached him, his gaze flicked over to you.

"hey," you greeted casually, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"hey," rin replied, his tone neutral as he wiped the sweat from his face.

you shifted on your feet for a moment, unsure of how to start, but then you blurted, "you played really well out there. nice goal, starboy."

rin glanced at you, giving a small nod. "thanks."

you leaned against the railing next to him, looking out at the field where the rest of the team was celebrating. "seems like the team is really hyped," you commented with a grin.

"yeah, they get a bit carried away," he replied, his voice flat, though there was no annoyance behind it. he didn't seem too phased, just... relaxed.

"must feel good to win," you continued, keeping the conversation light.

"it's just another game," rin said, but his gaze softened ever so slightly. "still, it's nice."

you smiled, enjoying the easy flow of converesation. "sooo, are you free after this?" you asked, trying to sound casual.

rin glanced at you for a moment, a hint of surprise flickering across his face. "i'll text you," he answered.

you nodded, keeping your smile in place. "alright then, looking forward to it."

"yeah, me too," rin replied, his expression softening just slightly before he turned his attention back to his teammates, who were calling for him to join them.

"looks like they need you there," you said.

rin gave a brief nod, giving you one last look. "later," he said, before jogging over to join the group.

chapter 007 > here > chapter 009

back to masterlist ☆

my taglist is open <3

a/n: they take so long js kiss already

taglist: @byakgans @bluberrymochi17 @levihanmyotp @x3nafix @etojlee @chuuyalvover @reocidal @syarc0re @azinniyaa @vashyuu @rwbie

© mixolya 2025.

[pompomchihuahua]

Genya's Role in the Family

So, today, because I never shut up and I love Genya, I wanted to talk a little more about Genya, specifically his role in his family from the little we see of them and the conclusions I've personally drawn from that.

First of all, from what I can gather, it looks like Genya filled in more a homemaker role than a "man of the family" or traditional gender normative older brother role. In fact, it seems like he's taken up the burden of what you'd normally expect to be placed on the eldest sister.

I find it so interesting that in our first shot of the whole family together where they're all sleeping, we can already glean a lot of their situation. But what I want to focus on is how everyone gets their own futon, even Sanemi! Everyone except Genya, who's sleeping with baby Koto.

We know why he's not sleeping with his mama but wouldn't it make the most logical sense for him to go with the eldest? Sanemi is older than Genya by at least five years (21 to Genya's 16 in canon) ergo he would be the most responsible. Or, if you want to be gender normative since this is the very early 1900's, why not with his eldest sister?

Well, first of all, we know Sanemi trusts him above all the other siblings. We know this because Genya is the one he chose to confide in when making the promise to protect everyone. We also know that when Sanemi goes to go looking for their mother, he trusts in Genya to watch over the kids while he's gone. Which brings me to another point.

Just look at how all of them turn to him!

How he cradles baby Koto back to sleep, Genya warning them away from the door just before disaster strikes.

Even in official art, Genya is the one carrying the baby while Sanemi does the hard labor. Which brings me to Sanemi's role. Legally in this time period, he is the head of the house, which means he and Shizu are likely their main bread-winners. In the flashback, Sanemi is the one pulling the cart with the heaviest load while Genya carries a small knapsack.

During Genya's monologue he says this: "My mother was always working, from morning until night. Not once did I ever see her sleeping."

So if Shizu is always working and Sanemi is always working, who's taking care of the babies?

Well, based on how Genya interacts with the younger siblings, I would place my bets on him!

And siblings caring for their younger siblings or just young children in general was so common in rural areas they were called Komori, though they were typically little girls caring for the children of wealthy people. Simply put, by placing the burden of child-rearing on a Komori, you could free up more time for you to work.

And, it's shown that Genya does have the gentleness and patience for it. He's fiercely protective of his siblings (punching the landlord's son for making Sumi cry, standing up the caterpillar girls in One Winged butterfly). The corps record book states that Gyomei helps him regain his "gentle nature", something you'd definitely need for child rearing. He also has the patience and attention to detail needed for it as shown by his love for bonsai.

I find it so interesting that Genya has so many parallels to Nezuko from him being the only survivor out of all the little siblings while the older sibling was away, to the demonic ties to even their gentleness. And I know this was intentional: just like Gyutaro and Daki are meant to show "what could have been," Sanemi and Genya are also meant to be a "what could have been" scenario as well.

But I find Genya so much more fascinating, not just because of how he defies gender norms just from the little that we see from his past but from littlest details of his character. I could make a whole different post just on his speech patterns and how it reflects his emotional stunt in growth and how he's forcing himself to be more of a man to get closer to Sanemi.

He wears his emotions on his sleeve but he's still a private and reserved person, he's fierce but he's gentle. He's a walking dichotomy and just an excellent character with a very interesting ability that I could go on and on about too.

I would like to give a special shout out to @princeblue and boff and bepp and rose and everyone else on the blue corps server! I never would have been able to put these thoughts into words until they let me ramble at them endlessly and they rambled back!!!!!

[jessicas-pi]

Dad Vader (But He's Got The Wrong Son) AU thoughts, part three

part one || part two

So, picking up where we left off!

After completing the most stressful mission of his life, Kanan takes a deep breath, says a polite goodbye to the Sith Lord, his son, and the random and apparently unrelated girl tagging along with them, and returns back to normal, Sith-free life...

...for all of two weeks.

See, what happened is this.

After they part ways with the Spectres, Vader brings Ezra and Sabine back to Lothal, scolding them thoroughly for getting caught up in a Rebel plot ("But, Dad, you helped with the Rebel plot!") and disappearing without a trace. He threatens to ground them from vandalism permanently, but after they promise to be very very careful and not go anywhere with strangers again, Vader begrudgingly allows Ezra and Sabine to go cause more chaos. Except, now that they've been seen with known Rebels, they've gone from a nuisance to a threat in the eyes of the Empire, and a bunch of stormtroopers ambush the kids.

In the following mad dash to get away, a stray blaster bolt knocks Sabine down. She's got her armor, she's fine, she just face-planted in the dirt and the only thing damaged is her dignity, but Ezra doesn't know that. All he knows is that Sabine just went down.

Sabine. Who is his hero. And his best friend. She's awesome, and she's amazing, and he looks up to her, and he might be kind of in love with her, he's not sure yet, but even if he's not, he definitely worships the ground she walks on, and--most importantly--she's one of the two people in the galaxy he would kill for without hesitation.

And in the heat of the moment, he forgets that the first lesson she gave him in Having A Moral Compass That's Not Just Doing Whatever Vader Does was that murder is an absolute last resort and not the go-to plan in most situations.

To put it mildly, Ezra goes postal.

It takes a stun bolt from Sabine's own blaster to stop him. She throws him over her shoulder and gets out of there as fast as she can, feeling a strange combination of nausea and fury.

She's had moments of doubt over Vader's total disinterest in reigning in his son's temper, but this takes it to another level. No decent parent would raise their child to think that it was okay to do something like THAT.

Ezra regains consciousness in time to hear Sabine reading Vader the riot act over his parenting techniques.

Vader would, under usual circumstances, ignore everything she's saying, but when she finishes her speech by snapping that someday, Ezra's gonna end up hurting his own friends if he doesn't get ahold of his temper, it makes him stop. Because she's right. She's really really right.

"...yes," Vader says, after a long pause in which he spends several seconds being very sad about his dead wife. "That will most likely be the case."

"Well, what are you gonna do about it?!" Sabine demands.

Vader thinks a bit, and comes to the conclusion that (a) okay, admittedly, the Jedi probably were onto something with their bit on emotional regulation, and (b) oh boy he's gotta get his kid to a Jedi.

Obi-Wan would be Vader's first choice, frankly, because he was an obnoxiously good Jedi, but Obi-Wan's not here right now and he probably wouldn't be inclined to train a junior inquisitor anyway.

Thankfully, Vader did just meet a Jedi recently, so he grabs his kids and hunts down the Spectres... just in time for the Grand Inquisitor to make his appearance.

Vader yells at him to go away.

"Please," Ezra adds politely.

"And thank you," Sabine snarks.

The Grand Inquisitor makes himself scarce, and Vader turns to Kanan.

"I need you to train my son."

"...huh?"

"My son. I need you to train him to be in control over his emotions."

"...huh??"

Ezra, staring down at the floor and looking remarkably like a guilty puppy under the force of Sabine's judgmental glare, mumbles, "I... did... a thing."

"He tried to kill a lot of people," Sabine specifies. "We need you to fix him, because right now, his reaction to me getting hurt is to dismember everyone who tried to hurt me, and not check and see if I'm okay."

Kanan is understandably VERY wary of training this kid, but also, he probably shouldn't be left UNtrained. So... ??

Vader sees the need to sweeten the deal, and offers a salary and, when that doesn't quite work, Sabine pipes up and suggests he throw in amnesty for Kanan and the rest of the Spectres.

Vader actually considers this.

"But they're Rebels," he points out. "They're just going to go back to... rebelling... or whatever it is they do."

"They free Wookiee slaves!" Ezra says, perking up. "What if they promised to just do that and stop doing... other... rebelling... things?"

"Well..." Vader says. "Maybe..."

Hera (who is also there, and intrigued by the situation) leans in, eyes narrowing. "We also get to run relief missions to other planets."

"Doesn't seem like a bad idea to me," Sabine shrugs.

"Yeah! And they can hang out with us in the comm tower when they're not busy!" Ezra grins.

Vader caves in with a sigh. "Fine. But they can't kill Stormtroopers anymore."

"What about when they try to kill us?!"

"If you're paying them, then they work for the Empire, right?" Ezra asks Vader. "Just make them outrank the stormtroopers and the other officers who get in the way all the time. They they can do whatever they want. Make them in charge of a relief corps of something!"

"Son, I cannot simply invent a new division of the Imperial government--"

"Sure you can," Sabine interrupts. "You're Darth Vader. Who's going to stop you?"

Vader can't deny that she's got a point, but he did NOT intend for this conversation to end with him hiring known Rebels, much less putting them in charge of some kind of newly-invented Imperial Relief Corps. He was going to pay one (1) Jedi to teach his son how to not fly into a murderous rage. That's it.

But it's too late. Ezra and Sabine have both latched onto the idea--Ezra, because he thinks the Spectres are cool and it'll be okay to be friends with them if they don't technically count as rebels anymore, and Sabine, because she wants to stick it to the Empire, and making KNOWN ENEMIES OF STATE into IMPERIAL OFFICERS and then making them OUTRANK the other imperial officers is just too good an opportunity to give up.

"Fine... but you have to wear Imperial uniforms," Vader says smugly. (If they're in Imperial uniforms, then any good they do is ultimately credited back to the Empire. HA!)

"I'm not wearing an Imperial uniform!" Zeb (who is also there) snarls. "They killed my people!"

Ezra speaks before Vader can. "Perfectly understandable. You don't have to. But Kanan and Hera will. Sound good?"

Kanan and Hera are about to say that they are NOT wearing Imperial uniforms under ANY CONDITIONS when Sabine slides in smoothly.

"AND, since they've got to outrank anyone who might get in their way, their uniforms should be a different color than all the other ones!"

"Beige," Vader says.

"Orange," Sabine counters.

"I like orange," Ezra seconds.

Neither Vader, Kanan, Hera, nor Zeb know how it happens, but by the time they part ways, Ezra and Sabine have talked them all into a deal where Hera is the Chief Officer of the Imperial Relief Corps, the Spectres have full authority to do basically whatever they want as long as it involves improving people's lives, and the Ghost has official clearance to refuel at any and all Imperial Fuel Depots.

And their uniforms are going to be bright orange. Eye-catchingly orange. Obnoxiously orange.

(Rebel orange.)

to be continued...

[alyslittlehaven]

" Love You Like A Bad Habit "

PROLOGUE -- ‘Turf War’

Whenever faced with a civil war inside of Velaris, Azriel is forced to tell his family about the connections he has in circles he wouldn’t dare normally bring to light. In an attempt to get a better understanding of the problem and how to stop it before it becomes too much, Rhysand accompanies his brother to a meeting with one of the infamous drug lords of the city. Does Azriel keep his true hobbies and private life in the dark? Or does his family finally see what his shadows do in the darkest parts of Velaris?

TW: Drugs, violence, death, talks of gangs, NSFW, prostitution (Only mentions of it), Smut, Angst, FWB to lovers, slight slow burn???, mentions of a drug lord, alcohol, addiction, arcane feels fr.

I DO NOT OWN ACOTAR, All rights and characters except for Rahlia and a few others are owned and made by Sarah J Maas.

"Excuse me?" Azriel's jaw tightened as Rhysand finally looked up from his desk, his brows furrowed as his violet eyes scanned over every feature he could find on the shadowsinger.

"Rhys, the shadows are telling me of an upcoming civil issue within the red light district of Velaris. I've heard whispers of fights between pleasure houses and even worse of people." Rhysand blinked, leaning back in his seat as he ran a hand through his hair.

There wasn't much that the red light district asked for or needed, meaning that during some times of peace, the high lord even forgot it existed. It didn't do anything outside of the district, and if anything having something like it lowered the crime rate inside of Velaris. So as long as everyone was happy with what they were given? Everything was fine-- but hearing that it wasn't fine anymore was worrisome.

"Are you suggesting that there might be something of a turf war in Velaris because of the pleasure halls that are being created?" Azriel slowly nodded. His eyes remain glued to the bottom of Rhysands desk. His mind racing. "An informant of mine in the district has also made me aware that some drugs have been leaked onto the streets due to the higher population in the area. More people are moving out of the district and into places such as the Rainbow. or just regular towns." Rhysand let out a hum, his chin resting on his hand as he looked at the papers sprawled out on the surface of his desk.

"-and why are we just now hearing about this? If a possible turf war is about to break out it must have been simmering for quite some time. I am aware I let the district be but you would think that they would come to their highlord for help, don't you think Azriel?" The shadowsinger carefully shook his head. His eyes locked with his brothers as a cup of tea appeared in front of Rhys.

"Speak, Azriel. You know you are allowed to do so brother."

Azriel's feet shifted, his wings tightening behind his back as he stood up straight, his hands clasped behind his back as he spoke.

"With all due respect Rhysand, the red district isn't the same as the rest of Velaris. You haven't attempted to reach out and create bonds with the lords in high places there due to our...reputation with the people. If it had been simmering we wouldn't have heard it's because the inner circle and the government of Velaris haven't been fully trusted by those in the red court." Rhysand nodded slowly.

Azriel had told him nothing but the truth, no matter how offended he was by the reasoning he understood where the spymaster was coming from. His brother's rigid posture caught him off guard as he looked back up. A brow raised as he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. "I see, but might I ask why you seem so tense, brother?" Azriel clicked his tongue, looking at the ground for a moment as he thought of how to word the next thing that came out of his mouth.

Azriel had spent hundreds of years in his position, making sure he knew every crack and crevice of the night court to make his job easier. Rhysand and the inner circle were aware he had informants in the nastiest of places just to make sure the wellbeing of the people and his family was secure. They would understand it, it was only his job after all.

"I have scheduled a meeting with one of the local drug lords in the red district. She runs the pleasure hall of Otaria where the refuge is. I believe you are aware of her reputation." Rhysand blinked, staring at Azriel in curiosity as he continued on.

Azriel took a deep breath, walked up to the desk in the middle of the room, and pointed at the small map of Velaris. "I think it would be a good idea for you to join me, show the people of the court's shadows that you care about their wellbeing as well and not just the people of the rainbow. Form a relationship with the lords and people....no matter how horrible they are." Rhysand's eyes watched Azriels hand carefully as he pointed to the Otaria hall. The pit of anxiety in his stomach only got worse as he thought about traveling to that part of the court. A small huff left the high lord's figure as his thoughts raced. The lord of those halls was said the be a disgusting male who had come from riches to fulfill his worst desires, putting the women in the hall through absolute hell just for some cash. To show the people he cared- he needed to throw all of his morals away to meet one of the worst men in Velaris? How could he do that? How could Azriel live with doing that?

"You wish for me to see an old, vile drug lord to prove a point to the people? Do you know what you are asking of me Azriel?" Rhysands tone was sharp, his words dripping with disgust as he watched his brother pull his hand back. His brows furrowed together.

"I'll have you know, they aren't as bad as you think." Rhysand tilted his head, confusion seeping into his bones as Azriel stared down at him. "Sometimes you need to realize that being High Lord isn't all about reputation, Rhysand. There should be no reason to keep you away from fixing the inner workings of your court." He was taken aback by Azriels harsh words, uncertainty filling his thoughts as his brother motioned for him to get up. "Are you coming?"

Rhysand nodded, standing up and brushing off his pants.

----

Disgusting.

That was the only word Rhysand could think of as he looked around the red district, people sitting on the sides of the street drinking ale out of the bottles, so many homeless people that his stomach turned just thinking about how selfish it was to own technically three houses. Everything he hated knowing about his city right there, was bare before him as if it was it's first day in the world as a babe.

Feyre would hate that he was here, that this place existed. She hated everything about this as well, her people dying of starvation- indulging in bad habits such as drugs that kept fathers away and crippled. The children playing in the road were happy, but a certain thinness to them that he couldn't bear to look at. The kind of bare that reminded him of his mate when he first met her.

Rhysand brought his sleep up to his nose as a man blew some sort f smoke in their direction, his lungs quickly filled with the burning sensation and the skunk-like smell that invaded his personal bubble. Luckily as they continued walking the smell dispersed, Rhysands brows furrowed as he looked at how comfortable Azriel was. He quickened his pace for a moment so he was now walking beside his brother. His violet eyes scanned their surroundings.

"These are the things you are made unaware of as a high lord when you look at the whole court and not just pieces at a time." Azriels voice was low, his words carefully calculated as he spoke to Rhysand. His hazel eyes finding his brothers with a certain kind of pity he hasn't seen in awhile.

Rhysands eyes darted around to the multitude of different things around them, his eyes finally landing on the large building a minute or two away with women and men alike walking in and out. The closer he got to the building the more of that odd stench he could smell. He knew what it was. he was a teen once- rebelling by smoking occasionally with the mirth root they had found in Illyria- but that strong of a smell must have meant something bad right? "How much has the population gone up by?" Azriel raised a brow, smirking slightly as he side-eyed Rhysand.

"Isn't the high lord supposed to know that information?" Rhysand rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face as he gently hit his brother's arm. Chuckling lightly. It wasn't his fault that he had no clue, the red light district worked on its own without any help from him or the inner circle. So many different things happened here that were illegal but were somehow unchecked and working well. He didn't like to admit it, but a good amount of the economy was working solely off of the money the pleasure halls and drug lords in this section of Velaris made from their stores. Hell- even most of the apothecaries and medicinal shops got their stock from the red light district, so as harmful as it was it worked well for all parties.

Azriel whistled slightly as he stepped over a pothole, the door of the Otaria opened up for him. The bell boy curtsying in the presence of Azriel and Rhysand. A smile on his face.

It wasn't like anything Rhysand imagined.

When he thought about the pleasure halls he was expecting cheap hotel rooms and the smell to be unbearable. That it was going to be unsanitary- disgusting- but what he just walked into was the exact opposite.

Booths were lined up on both ends of the hall, a large desk sitting in the middle of the room surrounded by men and women alike who were paying for pleasure. Their hands were in little baggies that carried their coin. Azriel barreled on, his footing never easing as he approached the desk. Rhysand on the other hand, slowed down to admire everything around him, the intricate carvings in what seemed to be the marble pillars were something only he could imagine. The man and women in the booths sitting beside each other flirting away with scandalous outfits on- most blue. Azriel looked back, smiling at his brother with an amused glint in his eye.

"How long has it been since you last visited the Otaria?" Rhysand shrugged, slowly catching up to his brother as he finally remembered why they were there.

"Hundreds of years I'm sure. I wasn't a big fan of the owner Tarly...It seems he has stepped up his game." Azriel let out a hum, stopping in front of the desk as he watched the woman behind it freeze as she stared at Rhysand. Her bright red eyes widened as she took in his form. Azriel slipped her a red coin before the woman cautiously picked it up and examined it. Dropping It back in Azriels hand when she was done and closing her fist.

"Ser Azriel. It's a pleasure to see you but...you are aware of the Masters rules on high lords, yes?" Azriel gently smiled at the woman, patting her hand with his other and pulling away. "She is aware of his presence I assure you. Just a small meeting." Rhysand lifted a brow, looking at the two with pure confusion.

She?

Azriel turned back to the high lord, his smile falling into a thin line as he spoke. "It's probably a good thing Tarly doesn't run this place anymore then. C'mon, we have places to be. Thank you Kashir." The woman nodded, bowing slightly as they walked around the desk and toward the door at the end of the hall.

"She doesn't?" Azriel laughed at Rhysands incredulous tone, shaking his head. "Mother no, he died long ago. One of his employees got tired of his treatment." Rhysand nodded slowly. Carefully eyeing his friend.

"The Otaria is under the ownership of Lady Rahlia. She was the one who killed him but it gave her the respect for her fellows to push her to take the building. Now it's high-end- or something like that." Azriel furrowed his brows, looking away from his brother before clearing his throat.

Soon enough they reached the door, their steps in sync as they stepped in. The smell of smoke instantly hitting Rhysands nose and making him flinch. He could barely see- the dizzying smell coming almost over powering as he covered his nose. Azriel took a moment to get used to it, the smoke filling the room and leaving it in a foggy mess. As the smoke cleared Rhysand blinked quickly. His senses over powered as the large, black hound growled at them. He took a step back, staring wide-eyed at this huge beast who stalked toward them slowly, the hair on its neck standing up in alert. As soon as the hound was about to bark a loud whistle rang through the room. The dog immediately sitting down with it's head tilted at them.

"Down girl,"

Rhysands eyes followed the voice, a woman around his height walking into the room from what seemed to be a bathroom. Cigarette in hand as she made her way toward them. Her blood-red dress clung to her features yet hung loosely, looking like something Mor would wear.

"Forgive her, she's trained to bite." A smirk lay on her face as she took in Rhysand, her brown eyes raking over every part of him as she ignored Azriel. Rhysand swallowed hard, his usual roughness gone due to the new surroundings he was in. His own violet eyes sought out Azriel to help him silently. Azriel crossed the room and sat down in one of the chairs, the woman's eyes following the shadowsinger with a familiar gaze. "I was told you needed my assistance and absolutely wonderful knowledge...when you said your precious high lord would be joining I was quite rushed to clean my halls." The woman walked behind the desk, sitting down in the comfortable-looking chair.

"Yes, we have heard some very disturbing whispers about a possible turf war happening. I thought you might have something to say about it." Azriel crossed his arms as Rhysand sat down. The poor high lord was taken off guard by the variety of pillows and tapestries that decorated the office.

"I might have," She slowly inhaled the contents of her cigarette, maintaining eye contact with the two of them as she laid back in her seat and blew the smoke out. "Depends which kind of turf war you are speaking of. It's not unusual for drug lords to get territorial around these parts but it dies quick like a man meeting a maid- but if you're talking about the turf war going on between the Junes and Crasters..." She smirked, holding out a box of cigs to the both of them.

"The Crasters?" Rhysand finally spoke up, gently shaking his head no at the offer and crossing his ankle at his knee. "Haven't they been passive for years though? What could possibly start them going into a turf war?" The woman eyed him, her usual smirk falling for a quick moment.

"Ah yes- forgive me, high lord. My name is Lady Rahlia. I am not a history book." Rahlia rolled her eyes, setting down the box and sighing. "You are wrong, they are the most aggressive people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. They have been banned from this establishment since the moment I got it in my wallet." Rhysand stared at the desk. His brows furrowed.

"Is he pouting?" She snickered, looking toward Azriel. A soft clicking noise came from her as she stood back up and rounded the table.

"Oh...big bad Spymaster can't say what he wants because he is in the company of his brother and high lord." She rolled her eyes, her smirk falling into a look of distaste.

"I hate two-faced royals." The corner of azriels mouth twitched, his wings shifting behind him so he got comfortable.

"I'm aware." Rahlia leaned down, grabbing Azriels face roughly in between her thumb and pointer finger. Scowling at the man.

"Then speak, boy." Azriel glared at her. Rolling his eyes as she tore her hand away from him.

Rhysand watched carefully, a hand on the dagger hidden in his belt. He looked at Azriel to confirm if he was okay- his brother just sat there. Staring at her for a moment before sighing and speaking.

"Just a bit, he pouts when he doesn't turn out as smart as he thinks."

Rahlia smiled, mouthing thank you to Azriel before moving to her bookcase to grab a bundle of papers. Throwing them on the Shadowsingers lap before sitting down once more. Azriel carefully looked through them. Brows raised as he looked up at her from the bundle. "What are these?" Rahlia propped her chin up against her fist like a bored child, looking at him through reddish eyes.

"Intercepted letters via bird...news...reports. You name it. everything you need to know about the most recent events. I had a feeling you'd be visiting." Azriel nodded tensely, standing up with the 'gift' and looking at Rhysand. "We are leaving."

Rahlia chuckled, the hound rounding the table to sit next to her. Rahlias nails gently scratched at the animal's head, listening to the huff she gave when Rahlia hit just the right spot. Rhysand stood up, walking to the door with Azriel as dread filled his stomach. A gut feeling that he was missing so much of what was truly happening in the room around him. As Azriel opened the door the woman's voice spoke up once more, a sickly sweet tone hidden behind each word she uttered.

"Come visit again soon, spymaster. Your talents are wasted at a council table."

[ifellintothestyx]

It will never not be funny to me that in Thousand Autumns, Shen Qiao is just the one normal, reasonable person while everyone else is living in a classic Wuxia drama

Basically every book conversation is just this:

Yu Ai: I had to poison you because you disagreed with everything I said, so I deemed you an incapable and naive sect leader! You would bring Mt. Xuandu to ruin!

Shen Qiao: I'm sorry, "had" to? We could've talked things out, y'know, like how normal people settle disagreements, but no, poison was clearly the only option left. You "had" to poison me. Right.

---

Yan Wushi: You and I are diametrically opposed. You are weak and undeserving of my attention. You fail to live up to my expectations and bring shame upon your master's legacy. Why would I need a friend like you so presume?

Shen Qiao: I didn't say you needed one, just that that's what I call you. You literally followed me around for months, ate with me, sparred with me, saved my life, and opened my eyes to the outside world... What on earth did you want me to call you that wouldn't be rude?

(Honestly knowing YWS's melodramatic ass, SQ probably just went through a mental list of statuses you could give to someone based on their proximity, realized that YWS is very much an outlier and also very much particular about his titles and general importance, picked "friend" as the safest option.)

---

Chen Gong: You look down on me because I'm from poor origins and never had the background or pedigree that you did so you disdain my methods!

Shen Qiao: ... You are holding. A child. Hostage. Literally every time I've met you you're doing something that doesn't agree with my morals and endangering human life. I genuinely do not care about your background, you just happen to be doing something I don't agree with and also tends to end up becoming my problem.

(No really, CG has like such a massive unrequited hatred for SQ while SQ is just lamenting that they somehow always end up meeting at the worst times in the worst places)

---

Half of the characters: Look how lowly you've become! From sect leader to boy toy! Everyone point and laugh!

Shen Qiao: Harsh but true, I suppose. Oh well, I should get back to what I'm doing.

[mj-iza-writer]

winged whumpee learning to fly? it doesn't have to be a specific kind of flying animal (like I don't really care if it's a parrot or a bat or something) just.... wings. learning to fly. etc etc.

I imagined an avian/human hybrid. Hope that is okay. I love that hybrid so much.

I wanted to write this in the eyes of people who have disabilities, and how people may interact with them. I think the disabled community needs a lot of awareness. They are important just like everyone else. I wanted to represent the difficulties they may face in a world not made for them. Even people who love them and want to help may have a hard time with pushing too hard. I hope I did well in bringing a little representation to the community.

Whumpee wrapped their wings around themself and fiddled with their feathers.

Caretaker was in a different room preening a few of their feathers before Whumpee's flight lesson.

Whumpee had injured their wings at a young age. The damage happened before they could learn to fly with all of the other young avians. They were behind now.

Caretaker had adopted them after the injuries. Their parents left them after the damages. A normal thing amongst the avian culture Whumpee grew up in. A flightless avian didn't have much to work with. They wouldn't be able to follow the others' migratory patterns if they had to relocate. Even most jobs require flight. They would never survive.

"Are you ready Whumpee?", Caretaker called.

"I don't know, it looks like it's going to rain", Whumpee looked out the window. They were greeted with a beautiful sunny day.

"Does it now?", Caretaker chuckled, "I guess it's good thing we won't melt then."

Whumpee turned to them when they stepped into the room.

"I-I don't want to do this. I fell last time. I might hurt my wings again", Whumpee frowned.

"Your doctor said your wings are ready for flight. Your wings are strong and are able to withstand falling", Caretaker came closer and hugged Whumpee. They wrapped them with their bigger, stronger wings, "we all fall. It's important to get back up and try again."

Whumpee rested their forehead on Caretaker's chest.

"I won't always be here to help you Whumpee", Caretaker ran their hand through Whumpee's feathery hair and rested it on Whumpee's shoulder, "you'll need to know how to fend for yourself."

"Don't talk like that Caretaker. My parents already left me. I don't want to lose anyone else", Whumpee pouted.

"I'm sorry, but it's only fact. I don't want to leave you either, but...."

"I know, but can we stop talking about it", Whumpee interrupted.

Caretaker sighed, "okay.... let's go get into the air then."

Whumpee watched Caretaker get a running start.

Caretaker's strong wings snapped against the wind and they were up.

Whumpee sighed as they unfurled their misshapen small wings, "how am I going to fly with wings like this?"

Another avian flew by and waved at Caretaker.

"No one wants to acknowledge the disabled avian. Everyone believes I should be dead", Whumpee huffed.

Caretaker hovered nearby, their wings flapped slowly to keep them up.

"Then prove them wrong", Caretaker smiled, "prove to them that you have the right to be alive, and to continue living. Prove to yourself that you can do this. Prove to others who have misshapened wings that they can also fly."

Whumpee wiped their eyes and nodded.

"Alright come on", Caretaker encouraged.

Whumpee ran forward a little and worked to flap. They stumbled over some rocks and fell.

"O-ow", Whumpee cried out.

Caretaker hurried to land and help Whumpee.

"Yes that hurts", Caretaker knelt down.

Whumpee's legs were torn up from the rocks. Blood steeped out from several gashes.

"Here let's get you cleaned and bandaged", Caretaker started to help them up, "we can work on taking off later. Let's work on flapping. I'll get you in the air and you can practice flapping and gliding."

"Do we have to?", Whumpee winced, "it really hurts."

"Just for a little bit", Caretaker helped brace Whumpee as they walked back to their house, "I know you can do it."

"Ca-Caretaker, you're not listening to me. My body says no. It doesn't want to", Whumpee argued, "I can't do it right now."

Caretaker paused, "I-I'm sorry Whumpee. Uh, you're right. Let's get you bandaged. We can talk about this after."

Caretaker silently cleaned and patched Whumpee.

"You're mad at me now?", Whumpee whispered, "I-I didn't mean to yell like that. You were only trying to help me. You've always tried to help me. I'm not doing much for myself."

Caretaker cleared their voice.

"I'm not mad at you dear. You were absolutely right in what you said. I was not allowing you to express your needs. I was so set on getting you in the sky I was missing what you were saying. I'm mad at myself for getting out of line", Caretaker set aside their first aid, "I am listening now. How do you want to approach this next attempt at flying?"

"I don't know. It all seems so hopeless", Whumpee sighed.

"It's not hopeless", Caretaker cupped Whumpee's face, "it's hard, not hopeless. We can do hard things. Let's go ahead and rest today because of the injury."

"It's not fair that it has to be so hard though. I didn't ask for this", Whumpee pouted.

"I know, just remember, no one knows how to fly when they start. I fell just as much as you when I first started", Caretaker smiled, "I fell on my face once and broke my nose even. That's why it's crooked. It will take time. I'm here for you and I want to help you."

Whumpee sat outside and watched others flying.

"I don't even know what it feels like up there. I've never gone that high", Whumpee sighed.

"Watching the others?", Caretaker smiled as they sat down.

Whumpee nodded, "I can't imagine how good it feels to be up that high. I was up there once, and didn't get to enjoy it much."

"Yes, you crashed pretty hard that day", Caretaker looked up.

"Do you really think I can fly. My wings are so ugly and misshapened."

Caretaker looked at them again, "I think if you truly want to, you can. You may not be able to get high up, but I think we have a good chance. I want to encourage you to at least keep trying. I know it's hard to see everyone else having an easy time. I can understand how difficult that feels. Your feelings are valid, my dear."

Caretaker stood, "come on. I have an idea."

Caretaker got themself up and hovered just above Whumpee.

"Hold onto my leg", Caretaker grinned, "hold on tight."

"I don't want to fly", Whumpee whimpered.

"You won't have to", Caretaker lifted up a little to keep their altitude, "I want to give you taste of what it feels like up there. You can open your wings if you want, but you don't have to let go of me."

Whumpee looked at them questioningly, but stood and wrapped their arms around Caretaker's leg.

"Woah", Whumpee gasped as they left the ground. They burried their face into Caretaker's leg.

"Doing alright" Caretaker called down as they continued to climb and build altitude, "I'm about to flatten out, so hold on."

"Okay", Whumpee mumbled into the pants.

Caretaker looked around a little.

"You know it's prettier to look. My pant leg isn't why you came up here."

Whumpee peeped up.

"I'm up?", Whumpee gasped.

"Your up", Caretaker chuckled, "this is about the elevation the others were flying at."

"Can we go higher?", Whumpee blurted out bravely.

"Hold on", Caretaker started to climb, "this is about as high as I willingly fly. I won't take you any higher."

Whumpee rested their chin on Caretaker's leg.

"Are you enjoy the ride?", Caretaker peaked back at them.

"It's amazing up here", Whumpee's eyes sparkled, "I can't believe what it looks like down there. The earth looks so different."

"Yes. The city is up ahead", Caretaker pointed out, "we won't go into the city because of how busy the sky is. I can't maneuver very well with you holding onto me."

"Okay", Whumpee watched the city for a few moments until Caretaker had turned away and started back to their home.

"Try to unfurl you wings", Caretaker lowered themself a little.

"Caretaker... I."

"You don't have to let go of me. Just practice a little of the flapping you've learned. Feel what it feels like for your wings to hit the air", Caretaker sighed.

"Won't I mess your thrust up by doing that?", Whumpee frowned as they opened their wings, "that can affect your flight patterns."

"Maybe a little, but it's fine. My wings will keep us up", Caretaker turned to see Whumpee's wings out, "they look good. Turn your left a little up... its lagging a little... yep perfect."

Whumpee worked to beat their wings against the wind.

"You've got perfect form", Caretaker encouraged, "you look great."

"Thanks", Whumpee frowned, "c-can I try something?"

"The clouds don't taste like anything. You can't eat them", Caretaker chuckled, "I've tried."

Whumpee suddenly let go.

"Whumpee", Caretaker yelled as they froze in the air and looked down.

Whumpee was dropping, but they were trying more than ever to stay up.

"Come on... come on", Whumpee cried as the ground came closer and closer.

They looked up and saw that Caretaker was chasing after them.

"Keep flapping Whumpee. I've almost got you", Caretaker yelled, "you have to keep up enough so I can catch you and not crash."

Caretaker needed to catch Whumpee with at least fifty feet space from the ground. That was their hard deck. Anything lower, they risked crashing into the ground and injuring themself and Whumpee.

Whumpee suddenly lifted a little.

"I-I did it", Whumpee yelled.

"Keep doing it", Caretaker yelled as they worked to catch up with Whumpee.

"Brace yourself", Caretaker yelled as they grabbed Whumpee.

Whumpee was grabbed.

Caretaker grunted, at the sudden jar of grabbing Whumpee.

"That hurt", Caretaker grunted again.

Whumpee looked up at them worriedly.

"I'm alright. I'm too old to be doing stuff like this. My rescue mission days are in the past", Caretaker sighed.

"I'm sorry Caretaker. I-I had a moment of bravery, and it was fleeting", Whumpee whispered.

"A little heads up would have been better. Let's try for that next time", Caretaker hovered just above the ground and dropped Whumpee. They landed right next to Whumpee.

Caretaker tiredly sunk to the ground, "ugh... I haven't flown like that in a long time."

"Are you okay?", Whumpee looked at them worriedly, "I'm so sorry."

"I'm alright.... just need a second", Caretaker smiled weakly as they took some deep breaths, "though that could have been handled better, I'm glad you tried. I'm glad you were able to keep yourself up."

"I'm sorry... I really am", Whumpee looked at them worriedly, "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Maybe a little. I'm alright. I promise Whumpee", Caretaker opened their arms to get Whumpee to come closer for a hug, "just be a little sore tomorrow."

Whumpee shyly hugged Caretaker.

"I don't want you to be afraid of flying again because of this. You kept yourself up... even if it was momentarily. You did it. This is exactly what we needed to happen. We can build off of this", Caretaker cupped Whumpee's chin gently, "don't lose the smile I saw up there. I think you fell in love with the sky. My plan worked."

Whumpee's lip quivered.

"It's alright", Caretaker smiled, "you were so brave."

Whumpee wiped their eyes and nodded.

"We can try again tomorrow. No promises if I'll be flying though", Caretaker stood up, "I have definitely tired myself out. Let's go get some food."

"Okay", Whumpee followed.

"You got yourself up", Caretaker stated excitedly as they followed Whumpee into the house.

"I did", Whumpee turned excitedly.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath

@porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst

@generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened

@freefallingup13 @notpeppermint

@cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet

@painfulplots @whumpbump

@everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee

@expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson

@legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace

@whumpanthems @lavndvrr

@ivymyers @starfields08000

@a-living-canvas @lumpofsand

@watermeezer @indigoviolet311

@whumpy-mountains @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @castiels-favorite-hunter

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

@bacillusinfection @whumpsandbumps

@tobiasbones @octopus-reactivated

@string-of-broken-hearts @weirdthingweee

[cursed-spectre]

"I've been wondering when you might bring up something like that ever since your reaction to learning about Ai's creation."

She chuckles. "I coded Ai from nothing, using existing stuff as reference when needed. Her code is still probably somewhat different from normal drones as a result. Not to mention she looks pretty different than me."

Silence

"Oh, right, shadow. She looks very different from how I think I looked when I was a human all the way back. I'm still learning as well, even after her creation. If you're thinking I'd hand program my 'code' to be combined, I don't think it would really be 'me' if that makes sense. Ai most certainly isn't."

"ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ."

"Sorry." She laughs a bunch. "That got really rambly, didn't it?"

"But, if I ever feel confident enough with my abilities, I suppose I wouldn't be against it. Definitely not in the near future, though. Sorry if you want one now. Might need to get Kiki for that." She giggles, kissing Tera's neck and shoulder.

"So how often does it rain on Titanium-28? Feels like it shouldn't be common given the canopy, but I see still it." She crosses her arms. "Lots of caves, too. Wonder what's up with that."

"There's a rainy season and the dry season, like any jungle. It only breaks through the canopy when the rain gets heavy enough." She hums.

"Don't so much know about the caves though, there were humans here before, maybe they dug into the hills for whatever reason."

[bylertruther]

do you ever think about how will probably wishes he was braver?

that he could tell mike the truth about himself without having to speak in code. that he could stick to his guns when he's been wronged and stand up for himself rather than tucking tail and turning the other cheek. that he could be less shy, less sensitive, less cowardly, and maybe then his loved ones wouldn't forget about him as often as they do.

maybe then they would pick him first, rather than leaving him for last. maybe then they would want to hang out with him and hear what he has to say. maybe then they would treat him like they used to, like he can still take care of himself just like they can, instead of like a fragile little thing that they pick up only when they need him. maybe then they would care about him as much as he cares about them. maybe then he wouldn't doubt that it could all come crashing down once they know who he really is, and always has been, because the rest of him would've been enough.

like, maybe he wishes he didn't freeze or run away so much. maybe he wishes he wasn't so afraid all the time, of every little thing. that he could be brave like mike, el, or his mom. i mean, el's been through so much, too. why can't he be more like her? why does he have to hide behind her? he hides behind her when the monsters come crawling back, and he hides behind her when he can't bring himself to say what he really means—even after getting on her case about it.

he spent so much time on that painting. he didn't let anyone see it—it was that special to him. why couldn't he own up to that? there's no monster in the van with him; it's just him and mike and this painting of the party, nothing inherently incriminating or romantic, and still—he can't help himself. he retreats back into the shadow, shrinks into himself, and tells lie after lie to the person that he never lies to, that he knows doesn't fucking deserve that, just because he's too scared.

of course he'd feel like a mistake sometimes. of course he'd hate who he is (if That script is to be believed), when he can't even talk to the one person that would understand without lying straight to his face, over and over again, like a fucking hypocrite. of course he'd feel so lost without the person that tells him it's okay to be this way and shows him that there is indeed strength in it. of course he'd hate who he is when he's encouraging someone to be true and speaking about their courage, all while being incapable of taking his own advice, and giving the credit for all of his love and efforts and emotions to someone else.

so many people died to bring him back, so many people died just because he didn't stay dead when maybe he should have, and for what? so that he can continue to hide rather than live his life? so that he can turn into a "worse" version of himself? so that he can live in fear? so that he can continue to ache for a past that he can never return to, while everyone else moves forward and berates him for not doing the same? time stopped in the upside down when will went missing, and he's been stuck there ever since, too. too much has happened for him to move on from. too much has changed—he's changed. he's too different now, in every way, and the older he gets the more clear it becomes.

of course he'd feel like a mistake. of course he'd hate who he is. he's the common denominator here: in his loneliness and in this war. the boy who came back to life when others didn't. the boy that got possessed and couldn't fight it. the boy that turned into a liar and a coward and must learn to live with it, even if it's at his own expense. the boy that can't let go of the past and whom the past won't let go of either, because even after everything, he's still connected to this great evil that won't let him go. they got it out of him, and yet the tether remains, because of-fucking-course it would.

just—why? why him? why can't anything ever go right with him? why is he always the outlier? i think that overwhelming amount of fear, shame, grief, guilt, exhaustion, and loneliness would wear anyone down, let alone a teenager that never asked for any of it and has experiences so unfathomably unique that the only other people that could have possibly understood are literally dead.

[scn-thedog]

i'm literally passing down now like forr eal i'm sos sleep y but . let me tell you. i think about this specific vibe of tvtwist so often. they're not at each other's throats but they're like .. still suepr toxic just casually. like tv goes to whine about lock being gone because he is working to twisty (she has no friends totalk to) and he's like "if you don't shut up i might actually kill you" .like i actually think so much about them just hanging out AND IT'S NOT EVEN CLOSE TO CANON THEY NEVER HANG OUT. if they actually did twisty would lose all interest for tv (she is such a massive loser it'll give them second hand embarassment) like oj my god she makes him look like less of a weirdo freak. thats it

[hatchan]

Shimmer is fascinating to me, and I think very analogous to the drugs we think of as dangerous. In S1 Ep 6, when that small brown-haired man (once seen in a flashback w/ Vander) brings Cait to the "doctor" in the deepest part of the undercity, we see that he's a victim of Shimmer abuse.

Cait asked him about it: "Why would you take something that does that to you?"

He replies: "I just… wanted to feel what it was like… To be somebody. To make other people afraid. Instead of…"

in his flasback in Ep 1, he's seen as a small and weak guy, to the point where someone tries to take advantage of him and not pay him his full due, until Vander steps in to help.

The effect in combat is obvious: it boosts pain tolerance, energy, endurance, speed, strength, and savagery. It makes people strong and capable. And in the undercity/Lanes/Zaun, violence and desperation are normal. And anything that gives you an edge, even temporary, is going to be tempting to use--especially when you don't expect to live long in the first place.

But yeah, we see plenty of medical use for it. Shimmer keeps Viktor alive as he merges with the Hexcore. Shimmer kept Vander alive and made him able to save Vi/fight a bit more after he got stabbed and thrown off the catwalk. Shimmer saved Vi's life in the deepest part of the Lanes, and affected her system by making her heal from a stab wound much faster than normal. Shimmer saved Jinx's life too! Shimmer is the fuel that powers Sevika's mechanical arm. This isn't confirmed, but it wouldn't surprise me if the green tubes in Renni's nose contain a Shimmer variant (when one of her tubes is ripped away during the battle in S2, it noticeably affects her) of which she needs a constant infusion to stay alive and moving.

Jinx is changed by her use of it, but Vi and Viktor are not "permanently" affected by their use of it, so the dose and frequency of use matters.

So to me, this reads as: methamphetamines.

Stimulants like meth are very useful. The main effect behind meth is energy--which in turn can boost speed, strength, pain tolerance, endurance. People on meth feel invulnerable and powerful. They don't need to sleep. They can start and finish projects. They can get by without eating much. The popular image of "meth users" in anti-drug campaigns shows people with scars on their faces (usually from picking at their skin or having poor hygiene), bad or missing teeth, disheveled hair, and low body fat. But there's just as many, or even more, people who do meth and other stimulants that fall in the category of working moms, people with ADHD, people with depression or, chronic low energy, physical laborers, doctors and finance bros and artists and tinkerers. It's very possible that you know a meth/stimulant user that's hiding in plain sight. And caffeine is a stimulant, so you can argue that we've structured societies to DEPEND on stimulant use to some degree, and it's all a matter of dosage/need/application. This category of drugs is definitely physiologically addictive, but also--people keep going back because the [temporary] benefits are undeniable and desirable.

The extremes are always more interesting for a story, and Silco is a villain for using high doses/amounts of Shimmer to essentially create an army out of the most desperate. But Shimmer is so much greyer than that, and "all drugs bad always" is an incomplete view of things

liking silco as a character is so painful because most people don't even understand him, even those who claim to like him don't so much of the time like even the very basics of his character that he is not selling drugs because he is a drug lord and that was his life ambition but he is selling drugs to gain control and political power over Zaun and the smaller groups within it in order to achieve his ultimate goal of independence and yet this concept seems to be way too difficult for people to understand plus to a smaller degree the whole claiming he is "doing drugs" (as in a recreational manner) in the context of using shimmer is so annoying to me when shimmer was clearly established to have medical properties like I know the writing gets chunky at times but some people are also just genuinely too dumb to be trying to analyze anything more complex than "good guys vs. bad guys" lolllll

[bisaster-energy]

i do get making cas essentially human i understand that he can adjust to it and actually enjoy life like that. but um. i just think he can be just as fulfilled as a full blown angel

[nezuscribe]

it's been three weeks since arranged!gojo, your husband, the man you're growing to care deeply for, told you he'd be back.

there was some dispute he needed to oversee with the eastern tribes, something about the land that one was fighting for, but he promised, promised, it wouldn't take over a week to settle.

now it's been nearly a month, and there has not been a single word from him.

your maids told you this was normal, but you didn't miss how they spoke in hushed tones, their brows furrowed nervously whenever the name gojo came up.

you can't sleep in his bed, the smell of him overtaking your senses and making you go insane. you go back to your old room, huffing as you turn around each night, not able to sleep. other times you'd pace the floors, picking at your nails until they bled, wondering about what could've happened, not able to shake off your last moments with him whenever you got to thinking too hard.

"i'll be back," he had murmured in your hair, cradling you close to his chest as he said his goodbyes. his strong arms caged you in, and you had no room to fight him off as you tried to nod.

"bring back some eastern sugar," you said, "i've heard it's good for pies," your words were muffled, trying to cheer up the mood. you heard him laugh, his chest rumbling a little bit, but there was a hint of anxiety laced in it.

"i'll miss you," gojo finally whispered, his men in the background shouting for the others to hurry up.

"i know," you mumbled, craning your head to look up at him, trying to crack a smile that just came out wobbly, "but i won't tell you i missed you till you come back."

he smiled, rolling his eyes as his thumb ran up and down your cheek.

"i promise i will."

well now it's four weeks later and you can't sleep at night, your past words haunting you, wondering if you should've just told him what he wanted to hear in case...

but a couple nights later, when you're sitting at your desk, looking out the window, you hear it.

the clacking of horse hoofs, their scattered neighs.

you almost think you've gone delirious from sleep deprivation, rubbing at your eyes as you stumble closer to the windowsill, squinting your eyes as you look in the dark.

but you see the distant torch, the way it's getting closer and closer to the estate.

you have no care for modesty, pulling a thin robe over your body as you run out of your door, nearly falling down the stairs as you skip every other one, your bare feet hitting the stone with such force that you nearly break it.

the maids and servants around you are bustling to get ready for their return, but you don't care, weaving your way through their bodies as you run out through the entrance. you can feel your feet getting scraped up by the rocks, the cold autumn wind biting at your barely clad skin, but you feel like you're not moving fast enough.

his horse is the first one you see, leading the group of tired and aching men. his black stallion is dark as the night itself, and you doubt he can see you.

but gojo does, and when his eyes find the shadow of your body from across the field he's abandoning formation, his feet kicking the side of the horse to make it go faster.

it's rushed, and the closer he gets the more you can see the damage on his body. the bandages around his arms, the ones that peek out from his tunic on his shoulder. his face is littered with scrapes and bruises, but his smile is blinding.

you run to meet him, watching as he mounts off of the animal, his strong arms throwing themselves around you are nearly crushing and almost makes you stumble backward if not for his support.

there's a heavy silence that follows, and you're glad that his men take the hint to go another way, knowing the dangers of leaving you two out alone on a field.

you can't breathe, your arms so tight around his neck that you're worried you might be choking him. the way he lifts you to get you closer to him would make your body heat up if not for the fact that you know he needs you to be almost one with him.

"i thought you died," you say bluntly, your words said wetly into his neck, your scattered tears wetting his skin.

"i know," gojo murmurs, feeling like he can finally breathe for the first time in a month.

he finds your lips in a messy kiss, biting at your plush skin as you moan, feeling like if he didn't have you near to him he'd probably die. he smells your lavender oil dotted on your neck, the lingering sweetness on your lips from something you probably baked to help with your stress.

his hands lift you up further by your hips, his strength, despite his injuries, still unbridled as you wrap your legs around his waist, your fingers weaving into his snow-white locks as you hear him mumble curses beneath you.

"i missed you," you say against his lips, his feverish kisses driving you to madness. the way you say it with a choked-out sob, your tears mixing with his own.

gojo whines, biting at your neck as he tries to hide his face away, the vulnerability that you bring out of him is something that even his enemies would probably gawk over.

"i promised i'd come back," his voice is nearly gone with the way he says it in between his sloppy kisses on your neck, tugging at the fabric that hides the bareness of your chest with his teeth.

you crane your head to look at him, hitting the back of his head gently with an angered look.

"three weeks late," you reprimand him, almost reveling in the stricken and kicked look he gives you with those eyes.

he goes to say something but stops, shuffling your weight onto one of his arms (he had the right to brag about his strength), and rummages around one of the pockets of his trousers, pulling out a bag as he waves it in front of your face.

you gasp, suddenly climbing off of him as you turn it around with your fingers. he pouts at the fact that you detached from him, trying to wrap his arms around your waist to haul you back up.

"is this...?" you look up at him, new tears sprouting in your eyes as you wail, almost dramatically as your head hits his chest with a thump, pulling him into another hug as you seem to sob louder from when you first saw him.

"you cry more over the sugar than me?" he mutters petulantly, his hand still cradling the back of your head as you just limply stand there.

"don't ever leave again." you bite out, pinching his back as he yelps, but still leaving a searing kiss on the side of your face.

"i won't...my lady," he whispers teasingly, and this time, his promise is undying. he'd be a stupid man if he ever willing left this again.

fuck those state affairs. gojo would rather be home with his wife, watching her bake as she scolds him for eating her batter.