#I’m done with the multitude of tagging now

[cloud-makers-make-pollution]

One day when I have a partner and we’re adults we’re going on a stargazing date this is beautiful

[dira333]

Glass Heart, take flight - Asahi x Reader

A/N: Soulmate AU, requested for the Follower Celebration, tagging @screamin-abt-haikyuu because DUH!

You’ve got a Glass Heart tattooed just below your left ear. 

It’s small enough to hide behind your hair or a pair of earrings if you want to. 

You don’t know when you’ve got it. It’s what happens to people who are too young when they meet their soulmate. You're pretty sure you know who it was though, not that it helps.

-

Gravel flies everywhere as you fall off the swing. You’d meant to fly as high as you dared, when someone grabbed chains from behind, bringing you to an abrupt stop. You fall face first, tears spilling over your bruised cheeks way before you can start wailing.

“Are you okay?” Someone asks, picking you up with ease. For a moment, you think it’s someone’s parent, but when long fingers carefully grab your chin and turn your face around to inspect the damage, you see it’s a boy, maybe a few years older than you, lanky and long-haired. 

His touch is soft and tickles, surprising you enough to stop crying.

“Who are you?” You ask.

Your words break whatever spell there had been. He jumps back, blushing.

“I, uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

He moves back, step after step after step. You try to grab him, what for, you don’t know yet. But you miss, nothing but air between your outstretched hands.

“I’ll go grab your Mum,” he insists, jogging away. 

-

“What school are you going to next year?” Miri asks over Lunch.

Your fingertips find the little heart beneath your ear that appeared last night. 

“Sekodai,” you tell her as confidently as you’ll ever be.

“Ah.” She nods. “They’ve got a great Volleyball Club, or so I’ve heard.”

“Yeah.” You shrug. “But I’m more into art.” And cute guys. But you don’t say that out loud.

-

“Hi. I’m from Class 1.5. Could I draw you? It’s for the Art Club.”

You watch as he blushes, the redness reaching even the tops of his ears.

“I…” He stammers helplessly.

“Dang, Asahi!” One of his classmates whistles lowly. “You’ve got game!”

“I…” His voice’s barely a voice anymore. It sounds more like a kettle whistling. Well, at least you know his name now. He cut his hair shorter and it’s wavy, framing his face in a way that makes you want to drag your hands through it. Or paint it, whatever he’ll allow.

“Please?” You ask. “It won’t take long. It’s just a sketch.”

“F-Fine…” He’s still red-faced when he arrives for the session, relaxes only slightly when he realizes that he’s not the only one. 

Most students have asked their classmates to sit for their panting. He’s not the only third-year, but the teacher eyes him curiously. 

“Do you need something?” She asks. “We normally don’t have high schoolers visiting.”

“I-I… I’m a student here.” Asahi stutters helplessly. “Third year.”

“Oh.” She blinks. “How old are you then?”

“He looks older than he is.” You interrupt, reaching forward to take his hand, to pull him away from the discussion he’s clearly dreading. 

Asahi pulls his hand away like you’re a snake, ready to bite.

It hurts more than you let on.

He barely speaks as he sits for his portrait. Today’s lesson is meant to be in black and white and while you’re glad he agreed to sit for you, you hate the fact that all his blushing is lost to you. You can do nothing more but hope the image will burn itself into your brain, for that you’ll never go without it.

When you’re done and you turn the canvas for him to see, he stills. 

A multitude of emotions flickers over his face, each too fast for you to catch before he bows so low you fear for his spine.

“Thank you for considering me.” He presses through his teeth and darts from the room and you pretend you don’t notice that he takes a few extra steps to avoid the risk of touching you.

-

The sound of a whistle cuts through your heart.

Below you, Karasuno loses, Dateko wins. 

Asahi’s grown taller in the two years you haven’t seen him. His hair has grown out too. 

But there’s added weight on his shoulders, you can tell by the way he walks. 

Your fingertips reach for the Glass Heart below your ear. You wonder how it’s holding up now.

“Are you sure you wanna go to this school?” Miri asks next to you. “I mean, you don’t have to come to Aoba Johsei with me, we’ve been friends for long enough, but you got a ride to Shiratorizawa.”

“No, I want this one,” you say, your voice firm. 

Miri sighs. “Well, at least the Art Club there isn’t bad.”

-

Barely one week into the school year you get the chance to deliver some papers to the Third Year Classes.

Well, the task had been meant for the “strong boys” in your Class, but you’re too stubborn to take the hint. 

Now you’re sweating under the weight of too many folders to count and your hair is sticking to your face in a way you hope is looking cutely disheveled instead of ready-to-murder-you.

“Ah, thank you. That looks pretty heavy, didn’t Takeda-Sensei send someone with you?” The teacher asks. You ignore her words and let your eyes run through the Classroom. There, a little bit further back, sits Asahi.

When your eyes meet his there’s instant recognition. You’d be proud about it, proud that he remembers you even two years later if he didn’t turn away right after. Your heart plummets all the way to your feet, but you need to keep up the facade as well as the weight of folders in your arms.

“Azumane,” his teacher orders. “You’re tall and strong. Help this student out, will you?”

He blushes furiously, but he gets up nonetheless and walks out stiffly.

You pull your sweater over your hands, one by one, so that he won’t have to fear touching you before you offer the folders for him to take.

“I…” He starts, but he doesn’t finish his sentence.

-

It happens. There are Soulmates who don’t fall in love. 

You never thought you’d be one of them.

If only you’d have been born without a stubborn head as well.

It would make everyone’s lives easier.

-

“Can I walk you home?” You ask, stepping out of the little shed that holds the bicycles.

Asahi flinches away like you’re the one towering over other people.

“What? How? I..” He stammers. 

You shrug and pull the straps of your backpack a little tighter to hide your shaking hands.

“Can I?” You ask again.

He stares, wordlessly.

“You don’t have to agree, I can just follow you home on my own, two steps behind you so you don’t see me sneaking.”

That brings something like a smile to his face but he turns away to hide it the moment it flickers over his lips.

But he starts walking and you rush to catch up to him, taking two steps everytime he takes one.

“You know,” you say, a little breathlessly when you need to tackle an incline, “As much as Hinata’s going on my nerves, I think he’s good for the team.”

Asahi stops again. “You know Hinata?”

“Uh, yeah. Everyone knows Hinata. Also, I’m a First Year.”

“Right.”

He walks two steps before stopping again.

“You know about the team?”

“Yeah?” You huff, trying to hide the fact that you’re already out of breath. “The only reason I’m not a manager is because I’m way better at art than I ever was at managing.”

“Why don’t you play?”

You point at yourself, still unable to take a proper breath after less than five minutes of jogging next to him. He doesn’t seem to understand.

“I’ve got the Athletic Genes of a Muffin,” you translate when you can breathe a little better. On the other side of the hill, the sun sets the sky on fire. “But I think it’s all the same. It doesn’t matter if you paint or play Volleyball, really. Humans have no wings, so they search for other ways to fly.”

When you look back at him, there’s something in his eyes you haven’t seen before. It makes you nervous and you swallow thickly, try to regain the composure you’ve had before.

“Do you… do you believe in Soulmates?” You ask, your mind running on empty.

“Sure.” His voice sounds weirdly detached. His face is tinted golden from the sunset. 

“Is this why you don’t want to be touched?” It’s a guess, really. He could still be a germaphobe. But he flinches like you’ve caught him.

“Maybe.”

“Why?”

“It’s a great burden,” he admits, quietly, staring at the sun. “What if they touch you and then you’ve got a mark but they don’t like you like that? You’d always be tied to them, whether they wanted that or not. I’d rather not put that on anyone.”

“It’s a bit late for that.” The words slip out your mouth too fast for you to catch them. You’d wanted to say something else, to put it differently. But he understands nonetheless, his head snapping over.

You pull your hair back to reveal the Glass Heart below your ear. 

Whatever you thought would happen, doesn’t. 

Asahi takes a step back instead of forward. You can see the doubt cloud his mind.

“Please.” You step forward, lunge for his arm like you’ve done all those years before on the playground.

This time, your hand closes around his wrist. It tickles.

But Asahi is taller, stronger, faster than you. When the turns to run, you’ve got no chance to follow.

-

The boy is about as tall as Hinata, dark hair with one bleached strand that makes it look like he’s being hit by lightning.

You remember hearing Yamaguchi talk about him, but his name is lost on you.

“Can I help you?” You ask rather rudely. You haven’t slept well ever since that evening. It’s been a week and it’s starting to catch up to you. 

You wonder if you’ve left a mark on Asahi. Maybe you’d read it all wrong. Maybe you’d run after the wrong guy all these years.

“Are you in the Art Club?” He asks.

“Yeah? Why?”

“You’re really pretty.”

“Thanks?” 

He grins, gives you a thumbs up and leaves. Whatever that was, you don’t have the energy to deal with it right now. 

It takes two more times of him showing up until you learn his name.

Nishinoya-senpai is weirdly adamant about getting to know you. He’s also hilariously bad at it, spending most of his time telling you about how great he did at training today, how he almost couldn’t save a ball Asahi had spiked, or how their manager is the prettiest being in the whole wide world.

“Why are you here?” You ask when he catches you after school. You’re in the middle of washing your brushes and you’d like it very much if your heart just gave in. But it has been two weeks and you still cannot stop thinking about Asahi. Even though you haven’t seen him since that evening. Has he stopped going to school?

“I’m a friend of Asahi.” He tells you.

“Aha.”

“He talks about you a lot.”

“Sure he does.” The sarcasm in your voice would be enough for two more people.

“No, really, he does. I think you’re Soulmates. But you know, we didn’t win against Dateko last year and… well, I think he needs to prove to himself that he’s worthy- Are you okay?”

You can taste the salt of your own tears. You nod, hoping he will leave you alone. He doesn’t.

“What does it matter?” You ask. Not necessarily Nishinoya, but if he’s not willing to leave you alone, he’s going to have to deal with it. “What does it matter if he wins or loses? Isn’t he worthy no matter what?” You try to dry your nose on your sleeve but the tears just won’t stop.

There’s a more pressing question to it all, a question you hadn’t dared voice before but it won’t leave your mind so why not give it the room it craves?

“Am I even worthy?” 

When your tears finally dry, Nishinoya is gone. 

Well, you’ve always known that not all boys are created equal. Some just cannot deal with tears. 

-

“Can I walk you home?” Asahi asks, stepping out of the little shed that holds the bicycles.

You flinch. You thought you’d be the last one to leave.

“You don’t have to agree,” he stutters. “I-I can just follow you home on my own, t-two steps behind you…”

“Why?” You ask, voice a little hoarse from crying.

“Nishinoya told me… About what you said.”

“So?”

Asahi stretches out his arm. His shirt is pulled back.

On his wrist is something you haven’t seen before. Two black wings spread out on either side, like a bird taking flight.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner,” he tells you. “If you want, you can take my hand.”

You move to grab it, half expecting him to pull away again. But his hand is warm, big enough to swallow yours and he squeezes back even as he blushes furiously.

“What about Dateko?” You ask, not willing to let go. “What about being worthy?”

“I tend to get lost in my own head,” he confesses. “I doubt that will ever change. But, I- I want you to know that I never doubted that you were worthy. I knew ever since we met for the first time, well, I hoped, but I… I didn’t want to-”

“Put a burden on me, I know.” You nod and squeeze his hand at the same time. “You’re going to have to get used to it, you know? I’ve got pretty strong shoulders.”

You can’t see the sunset from where you’re standing. But the way Asahi smiles makes you think you don’t need to anyway. He’ll always be golden anyway.

-

“Careful, door opening.” Asahi announces, one arm on your back as he guides you into the coffee shop. 

Your eyes are glued to your phone screen, but you trust your fiancé that he will keep you safe on your early morning hunt for breakfast.

He orders for the two of you, squinting down over your shoulder every once in a while to check in on your live feed.

Your newest art project hasn’t been online for long and the comments are flowing in almost too fast for you to read.

It’s only when Asahi awkwardly clears his throat behind you that you look up. You spot it right away.

“Excuse me?”

The Barista looks up right away, flinching slightly when she locks eyes with you. 

“He asked for oat milk. That’s soy.”

“Sorry, I mixed that up.”

“No worries, just making sure.” You smile as Asahi deflates behind you, leaning all his weight onto your shoulders.

“Thank you,” he mumbles into your ear. “I wouldn’t have been able to say anything.”

“I know.” Your right hand finds his, squeezes tight. “That’s why we’ve got each other.”

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[glorysbox]

Hi! Wanted to start off saying I love your writing so much! I had an idea that I’d love to see written by you, though I’m not sure if you do swf type stuff? (If not please totally ignore me!) And also not sure how detailed you prefer people to get, so this might be way too long for a fic lol. Either way, love your writing and hope you’re doing well!

So essentially Leon has a friend (afab) who has had a boyfriend for a while, and Leon begins to notice that she’s been staying home all the time, showing up less and less to hang out with their friend group, and giving excuses to not show up that’ve begun to repeat. Leon gets suspicious and confronts her when they’re alone for a minute, asking if her boyfriend is preventing her from hanging out with her friends and family. She confirms that’s the case, and explains that her boyfriend gets insanely suspicious about her interacting with anyone outside of him because, “Why would you ever need to talk to or be around anyone else? I should be enough for you. I should be your whole world.” And Leon, who has always had feelings for her but never acted on them is essentially like, “You know there are people who’d treat you better than that, right?”

leon x fem!reader

wc: 1.6k

tags: SFW YAYYYY! implied emotionally abusive relationship, hurt + comfort, leon is a cutie that cares about u a lot, dialogue heavy again

It's been a while since he's seen you.

So long, in fact, that Leon is starting to feel worried.

He never liked your boyfriend—couldn't stand the way the guy constantly talked down to you or the people around you. Leon never said anything, though. The guy made you "happy"—(in your own words)—and he would rather keep his tongue shut than threaten the friendship he has with you over this guy.

He thought he was making the right decision.

And yet, here he is, staring at the multitude of messages that he's been sending you over the past few weeks. Invitations to hang out get ignored. Questions about your well-being get ignored. Conversation starters get ignored. It's frustrating. But above being frustrating: it's nerve-wracking. Leon is worried. And he has been for weeks now... you're pulling away from him. And not just him; you're pulling away from everyone.

bestie: Hey. I'm worried about you, can we please talk? You've been distant for a while now. Did I do something wrong? [7:32]

bestie: Hello? Cmon. Dont ignore me [7:47]

You don't even read it.

It's at this point in time where Leon is starting to feel like he needs to do something. To say something. You were never like this before—and he's upset. Really upset. Which leads him to where he is now—fumbling with his phone as he stands outside of your apartment building. What does he even say? Does he call you—maybe text you? Will you even respond? Probably not. What if your boyfriend—the whole reason he wants to speak with you—is over your place?

Jesus, Leon. He thinks, stuffing his phone along with his hands into his jacket pockets. Come on. She needs you. Whatever happens happens.

Three knocks on your apartment break you out of your boyfriend-argument induced stupor. Your mind is foggy as you stumble from your bed—wiping your tears—to head to the door. This time, you don't even know what you've done wrong. You listen to your boyfriend faithfully. You've stopped talking to Leon, stopped hanging out with your friends, stopped messaging your family everyday—what else is there to do? You just want him to be happy.

boyfie: Do you even care about me? [7:26]

boyfie: i ask you to do the bare minimum shit and you never listen [7:26]

boyfie: Maybe we should just break up. i treat you like you're the only girl for me and all you do is whore yourself around [7:27]

He's told you so many times that he's the only one that'll ever love you the way he does. Explained that he is and should be your endgame—tells you that every good relationship needs it's compromise. He tells you that he's compromised so much to get nothing in return. And you believe it.

You'll have to figure out how to make this right—after you see who's at the door. With one final wipe of your tears with the back of your hand, you open your front door—maybe hoping to see your boyfriend, but...

"Hey, I... are you crying?" Leon's face is scrunched together, eyebrows drawn in and eyes squinting at the sight of your (admittedly pathetic, but adorable) display of sadness.

"No—I'm not. I was just..." You trail off, voice low and sad and whiny enough to make Leon's heart break into a million pieces. Guilt rushes over him in waves. He should've come sooner. You feel a firm hand squeezing the meat of your shoulder.

"Don't even lie... can I come in? We really, really need to talk. I—"

"No! No—you can't come in. Look, I'm sorry Leon, but..." You put your hands up defensively, creating distance between the both of you. Leon's heart breaks into a million more pieces. "That's not a good idea. You need to leave."

"Need to?" He sounds offended. "I'm not going anywhere. What I need to do is talk to you. About a bunch of things. It's just a talk!"

He pauses for a few moments.

"He won't get mad at us for just talking," Leon adds, in attempt to quell your obvious anxiety at just conversing with him. It's pretty much just as he thought; you never would avoid or ignore him on purpose. Your boyfriend told you to. You're just too sweet to realize that he's treating you like shit.

"Even if he doesn't... I don't want to risk it. I really don't want to upset him..." You avoid Leon's gaze. "Can you just... go away? I don't want to ruin my relationship anymore than I already have."

Leon's heart breaks into a trillion pieces.

"I'm... not going anywhere." Leon says slowly, taking a step closer to you. "Come on. He doesn't have to know. I'm worried about you. Everyone is."

"I don't want to lie about having you over. That would just be wrong." You pause. "And worried about what? I'm fine. Really."

Leon sighs. You watch as he pinches the bridge of his nose—watch as he looks around your apartment building. And then, you watch as he ducks under your arm to enter your apartment. He's already got the door shut behind himself before you can protest or say anything.

You open your mouth to speak, but—

"Just hear me out! Please. Come on. We've been best friends for years. Don't you care to hear about what I have to say?" He pauses, a pout forming on his face. You start to feel guilty for ghosting him. "Please. I'll be quick."

And you sigh in defeat, saying nothing. Which to him, is an invitation to speak.

"I... uh, okay, I know I said I wanted to speak. But I actually want you to talk to me instead. Talk to me about what's going on—" He reaches for you, putting a hand on your cheek. His thumb swipes away your tears. You don't pull away this time. "I need to know. I've been dying not knowing what's going on with you. At least give me the reason you ditched me."

"I... I'm sorry..." You mutter, eyes downcast as you avoid your best friend's intense gaze. "I should've talked to you about it, I'm sorry. It's just—he didn't want me talking to you, because..."

"Because?"

"Well—he said that you... uh, had a crush on me. And he didn't want me hanging out with you anymore because it's... cheating."

"What?! I don't—I..." He trails off, voice pitched a tad too high considering the fact that he's lying his ass off. Deflect, Leon. "Okay, whatever. What about our other friends? Your family? What's your reason for that?"

"H... he just said that you and—well, everyone doesn't understand our relationship. And that you guys just want to break us apart."

Damn right Leon doesn't understand your relationship with that douchebag. And damn right he wants you to break up with him. He doesn't verbalize any of this—not now, at least. He keeps a hand on your cheek, reveling in the feeling of your warm skin on his hand.

"And... why are you crying right now?" Leon's voice is soft as he speaks to you. He's trying his hardest to coax the truth out of you.

"Because..." You bite your lip, still looking away from Leon. The look on your face has his heart breaking into a quadrillion pieces. He could treat you so much better. "I made a mistake. And he won't tell me what I did... but I want to fix it. I really don't want to lose him..."

"You know... if he was a good boyfriend, he wouldn't not tell you what you did wrong." Leon's brows furrow together once more, replacing his softer expression. "He shouldn't want you to be upset. He should want you to be... happy. That's what couples should do."

Leon's doing a lot of talking for a guy who's never had a relationship before. He'd never admit that the reason is mostly because he only wants you.

"I know, but—"

"There's no buts. Come on. Don't you see? He's treating you like shit. I don't want to see you like..." He gestures to all of you. "This. Sad and lonely and desperate for this guy to treat you well. He's never going to treat you well."

He pauses.

"There's so many people out here. People that can treat you better. That care about you... like me, for example." Very subtle, Leon. He thinks, but thankfully... you don't seem to catch on. Or you don't comment on it if you do. He takes the opportunity, pulling you closer into him.

You don't pull away.

Making progress.

"We're best friends... I only want the best for you." You wrap your arms around his torso. Making more progress, he thinks. "I care about you more than you know. And I've been lonely without you."

You bury your face in his chest. It's comforting. It always has been. More progress.

"Everyone is worried about you. You need to... stop letting him string you along like this. He's taking advantage of you." You sniffle in his chest.

Maybe he's right, you think.

"Let's go back to the way things were before. Me. And you. And, uh... everyone else, yeah. And you being happy and smiling and having fun. I haven't seen you smile once since you started dating this guy." An exaggeration, but not all a lie. Now that you think about it, you aren't exactly happy. At all, really.

You're cracking.

"But..." You want to protest, to say anything, but the words die in your throat. You miss Leon. You miss your friends. You miss your family.

"No buts. Let's watch a movie. We can order pizza and stuff our faces. And you'll block that bastard and hang out with me every day again." You try to hold back the smile that threatens it's way on your face.

You hate to admit that this sounds like a good idea.

[leonspretty]

boil over

in which your assignment is getting too much for you to handle but keith is there to help you out

masterlist

pairing: keith x reader

tags: fem! reader, college au!, established relationship, keith is a biker (yum), very fluffy, no use of y/n, reader gets a bit short with keith. keith is a sweetheart, slight angst.

notes: finally writing for keith. its sadly much shorter than i wanted but i spent ages looking for what to write for him because i wasn't sure what i was in the mood for. i had already made notes on season 7 episode 6 where they get like lost in space but then when it came to writing i hated the idea so now we have a college au. he's so pretty in this scene!!!

wc: 839

"Buck and Wild, Swing to be free, Your hands just can't keep ahold of me." — Kate Denson's "Boil Over"

The sound of a motorbike pulling up dragged you out of your train of thought. If this was any other time, you would have jumped out of your seat to meet your boyfriend at the door. Today, however, was not one of those days.

You had a huge assignment to do for college, and even though you had plenty of time to get it done, you prided yourself in having things completed as soon as physically possible. This assignment was deciding to not let you commit to it. Everything you would type out would be deleted pretty much immediately.

With a groan, you deleted the last paragraph you had typed out. There were spelling mistakes throughout it and it didn't read right. Anymore force put into your backspace key and you're sure it would break.

Keith couldn't wait to see you. You had been asleep when he left in the morning for work at the Garrison and you hadn't picked up any of his calls all day. He was aware of your assignment and knew how you got when they became difficult and so made a pit stop on his way home.

Greeting Kosmo at the door, Keith placed his helmet and keys down, toeing off his boots simultaneously. "Hey buddy. Where is my pretty girl?" He asked Kosmo. As if the wolf could understand, he immediately got up and started off towards the living room.

Upon entering, Keith saw you sat with your back to the arm rest, computer in your lap and a multitude of notebooks splayed out on your coffee table. A half empty mug of coffee also sat closest to you on the table, but Keith assumed this to be cold as it normally ended up to be when you would become so engrossed in your work.

Kosmo walked up to your side, partially blocking your view of your notebooks. You were yet to notice your boyfriend's presence in the room despite you realising that he will be home now.

"Kosmo, honey, please move," you pleaded. You were finally beginning to form a thought that could lead you on your next point you wanted to make but by the time Kosmo had moved, you had lost it.

You let out another groan. Louder this time, accompanied by you shutting you laptop and putting your head down.

"Hey baby, you okay?"

The voice made you jump, and instead of soothing you like Keith had intended it to, it only angered you.

"Do I look okay, Keith?" You snapped. You had sat up now, laptop still in your lap.

What you hadn't noticed but Keith had was your hands. They were curled up above your laptop but were shaking. At this realisation, Keith was quick to move your notebooks neatly into a pile, placing the bag of food he had in his hand on the free space on the coffee table.

"I’m struggling with this assignment and I know I have time but I want it done now and nothing I write is good enough and then- What are you doing? I need those!"

Still not saying anything, Keith kneeled in front of you, taking your laptop and moving that to the table too. He then grabbled your hands, holding them tightly.

"Look at me, darling."

You didn't hear his words, too busy rambling in a mumble about how you need to get back to work so you could get it done. Keith realised this when your eyes didn't even flick to Kosmo who had not rested his head in place of where your laptop previously was. At this you would usually let out a coo and stroke his head. Instead you were staring at your books on the table. Knowing you wouldn't listen to him any other way, Keith placed his index and his thumb under your chin to move you to face him.

When you made eye contact with Keith's sympathetic gaze, your eyes started to well up. Suddenly the stress and guilt overwhelmed you and you broke down.

Rather than trying to shush you or get you to stop crying, Keith leaned up to hug you. This was what you needed. You had been over working yourself and it was finally catching up to you.

The familiarity of Keith's smell and his warmth was soothing to you. "Keith, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-" Your voice was croaky and broken as your tears refused to stop just yet.

"I know, darling, I know."

You pulled away to look him in the eyes. You didn't know what to say or do and so you said the only thing you did know. "I love you."

"I love you most. So much so that I brought you some food."

To this you let out a quiet giggle and hugged him again.

"It's okay to be overwhelmed. You're putting way too much pressure on yourself for something that you have so much time for. I'm here for you, and so is Kosmo. You are not alone. Now, how about, we eat? And then we can find a way to distract you for a while. How does that sound?"

Taking note of the insinuation, you just nodded, throwing yourself to him for a kiss.

this is so much shorter and rushed than i wanted it to be but i really struggled with finding a good idea to use for him so this is really disappointing. im gonna try make the next one a little longer but its not gonna be a voltron fic i fear. onto kate denson’s final perk though!

@cafekitsune made the dividers here!

thank you for reading!!

[endofradio]

FRAGMENTS OF FEAR — CHAPTER 4: TEMPTATION INSIDE YOUR HEART

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3

WARNINGS: n/a

NOTES: it’s getting a little 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 in here!!! (kill me now)

SUMMARY: frank notices sylvie’s all alone in the bar lounge and decides to have a bit of a chat with her… and things get a little… uh… crazy…?

WORD COUNT: 2,512

TAGS: @reclaimedbythesea @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @maggotmommys @maggotssmichael @evildarliing @xashleyo03x @witchy-weve-monbebe @atcarpenter @blackwolfstabs

if you’d like to be added to my taglist, send me a message or send in an ask to my inbox. :)

Sylvie was sitting by herself in the bar lounge, her slender legs dangling over the countertop. It was fairly quiet, except for the radio sitting next to her which was still playing music. Right now, a Velvet Underground song was quietly playing.

“One of these days, ain’t it peculiar? You’re gonna look for me and baby, I’ll be gone…”

Sylvie was left alone with her thoughts, the music being the only thing keeping her company. At the same time, though, she liked being alone. Maybe it was just the fact she had grown accustomed to it, especially considering loneliness was all she ever knew.

As she sat there, Sylvie found herself reflecting on a multitude of things. Herself, this whole kidnapping mission, even… Frank. She silently cursed herself for even bothering to think about him. When she did think about him, she felt a confusing mixture of feelings come to the surface. Anger was one of them.

She couldn’t deny that, despite all the bullshit Frank had put her through, Sylvie was still drawn to him for some strange reason. She felt some kind of pull, and it made her uncomfortable. It seemed like she always ended up finding herself being drawn to the worst people. Maybe it was because she didn’t know kindness. She had grown up without it.

As Sylvie continued to sit atop the bar counter deep in thought, she was distracted by the sound of a familiar voice — Frank’s voice. Goddamnit…

“You look quite lonely.” He gruffly commented, walking over to the bar and pouring himself a glass of whiskey. “Just… sittin’ there. Thinkin’ about something?”

Sylvie shrugged. “Yeah. Thinking about a lot of things.”

Frank took a sip of the whiskey, leaning against the bar counter as he looked at Sylvie. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“I’m… I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Frank asked, taking another drink. “I mean, c’mon. You’re sitting here surrounded by alcohol.”

Sylvie sighed. “Okay, fine. Just… one glass and that’s it.”

Frank smirked as he went for the bottle, pouring Sylvie a glass. “I had a feeling you’d give in, eventually. First taste of alcohol in five years, huh?”

Sylvie sighed as she took the glass, swirling the amber liquid around as she blankly looked down at it. “Yeah, I guess.” She reluctantly brought the glass to her lips, taking a very small sip, trying not to cough as the whiskey burned her throat. “Fuck. How can people drink this shit regularly?”

“You get used to it.” Frank shrugged. He leaned back against the bar counter. “Y’know, since it’s just the two of us in here, I figured that we might as well have a bit of a chat, don’t you think?”

He set his half-empty glass down and dug into the front pocket of his bomber jacket, taking out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Then, he lit one up for himself.

“A chat about what, exactly?” Sylvie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hmm, we could go with a lot of things…” Frank muttered thoughtfully, taking a puff of cigarette smoke. “How about we start with this one — why do you hate me so much?”

He looked back at Sylvie, his facial expression one of mock offense. “I mean, I’ve done nothing to really hurt you, right?”

Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Oh, there’s a lot of reasons why I hate you. From day one, you’ve done nothing but try to get on my nerves. You’re annoying, you’re perverted, and you’re an asshole — a major one at that.”

Frank’s eyes widened as he took another sip of whiskey. “Well, shit.” He muttered, before chuckling. “You really weren’t kidding, weren’t ya?”

“I never lie.”

Frank raised an eyebrow and then took a few steps toward Sylvie, so that way he was standing right in front of her. “I’m not so sure about that one.” He said, slightly squinting his eyes as though he was studying her, trying to read into her mind.

“What do you mean?” Sylvie asked, her voice coming out slightly more annoyed and irritated than intended.

“You’ve lied before.” Frank quietly spoke matter-of-factly. “Remember when I arrested you? You lied about how much you drank. That’s one lie right there. You’ve also lied about why you couldn’t fuckin’ drive after that little party. You told me that your car was just acting up. Two lies, right there. So, don’t act so innocent. You should never lie to a police officer, y’know…”

Sylvie swallowed nervously as she looked up at Frank. She could practically feel his cold gaze burning into hers. She wanted to look away but for some reason, she couldn’t. The most she could do was occasionally avert her gaze for a quick second.

“There’s a third thing I think you’re lyin’ about right now, actually…” Frank then murmured.

“What do you… mean…?” Sylvie questioned, her voice quiet.

“You hating me — I believe that’s another lie.”

“Why…?”

Frank finished the rest of his glass of whiskey, placing it on the bar counter as he drew in another inhale of cigarette smoke. He looked back at Sylvie, placing a hand on the counter, nearly having her cornered.

“Remember how I said I pick up on things very easily?” He quietly asked. “I’m a smart guy, Sylvie, and y’know what I think?”

“What…?”

Frank leaned in close enough so that way he could whisper in Sylvie’s ear. “You like the attention because you’ve never been shown a fuckin’ ounce of it.” He answered. “You cling onto it like a starving child. You don’t care whether it’s good or bad. Attention is still attention to you.”

Frank then pulled away from her, a slight smirk forming on his face as he studied her reaction. He could tell she knew he was right, with the way her brown eyes were widening just a little.

“Think about it…” he continued. “When I’d taunt you while you were in jail, you’d never pull away from me. You’d tell me to fuck off, but I never really saw any genuine defiance in your eyes. Your words didn’t mean anything. They were just a pathetic attempt to hide what was really going on in that mind of yours. I think that’s why you’d always snap back at me, too. You were encouraging me. You wanted more.”

“Shut up…” Sylvie muttered, feeling her muscles tensing up. He was right.

Frank ignored her, only continuing with his words. “You are pathetic, honestly. So starved of any attention at all that you’ll lick it from anyone’s hands, doesn’t matter who the person is.”

He finished the rest of his cigarette before flicking it in an ashtray, cornering Sylvie with both of his hands now on either side of her on the bar counter.

“I know you very well, and I don’t think you even realize it,” Frank said. “You don’t want to admit the fact that I’m right, because you’re too fuckin’ stubborn. You’ve convinced yourself so much that you fuckin’ despise me that you can’t bring yourself to just admit the goddamn truth.”

Sylvie could feel her chest tightening. “N… no.” She croaked. “I do… I do hate you…”

Frank raised an eyebrow. “Why aren’t you trying to escape, then? You’re just sitting here, taking in every little fuckin’ thing I’m saying to you. Now, why is that, huh?”

He has a point. Why am I still just sitting here?

“I don’t… I don’t know…” Sylvie quietly answered. That answer didn’t satisfy Frank.

“You don’t know, huh? Well, I think that’s enough of an answer, isn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up…” Sylvie hissed, but the way her voice trembled betrayed the defiant look in her eyes. The walls she had built around herself were slowly crumbling.

Frank leaned even closer. “Why don’t you fuckin’ make me, then?” He challenged with a whisper, his eyes flickering with something that Sylvie couldn’t quite identify. “You keep telling me to shut up, but you’re not doin’ anything about it.”

Sylvie’s knuckles were slowly turning white as she tightened her grip on the bar counter, her muscles tightening up even more. The tension crackling in the air in the room was so intense that if somebody else walked in, they could feel it instantly. Sylvie was desperate to get rid of it, to get Frank to finally shut his mouth, but she didn’t know how.

Then, she had an idea. She knew Frank’s mind and how it worked. She could use that to her advantage, now that she thought about it. She knew what he liked, and knew what he would probably like right now. Was she playing with fire? Yeah, probably, but right now… she just wanted Frank to shut up.

A little hesitant, Sylvie reached with both of her hands to touch Frank’s face, her fingers gently grazing his stubble. All the while, she maintained eye contact with him, searching for any sign of a reaction. Surprise flickered across his blue eyes for a moment, before his gaze gradually started to darken.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He quietly asked. Despite the question, he made no effort to pull away. Got him.

“Don’t you want this?” Sylvie’s response was almost taunting. “I’m not stupid, either. Don’t act like you’ve never thought about getting in my pants at least once.”

The faintest hint of a smirk gradually formed on Frank’s face. “Look at you, tryin’ to have some sense of control over me. Cute.”

He grabbed Sylvie’s wrists and moved her hands away from his face, holding them down on the bar counter. “Now, I guarantee if I did that to you, you’d fuckin’ melt. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Sylvie’s stomach was starting to do somersaults now, her breath getting caught in her throat. She felt Frank brush a strand of her dark brown hair away from her face, and as much as she wanted to pull away, she didn’t.

“Wow. Look at you, you didn’t even flinch,” Frank quietly remarked, his smirk growing. “You’re only encouraging me, sweetheart.”

“Don’t… don’t call me that…” Sylvie weakly whispered.

Now, she was weakening almost instantly, all because of Frank. How could she allow him to have this much power over her? She could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

Almost as if he was intentionally trying to weaken her even more, Frank brought a hand to hold Sylvie’s face, brushing his thumb across her cheek, and then her lips. He saw how her breathing was getting more unsteady, how her eyes were widening… and it was satisfying him.

“Jesus Christ, you really are starving for attention…” Frank murmured, his voice taking on an almost critical tone. “God, has nobody even kissed you before?”

“I mean…” Sylvie stuttered, her eyes darting away from Frank’s for a brief moment. “I mean… yeah, but… but—”

Her heart just about stopped when she unexpectedly felt Frank’s lips crash against hers. Meanwhile, another Velvet Underground song was faintly playing in the background. Sylvie couldn’t focus on the music, though — the words just seemed to fade as Frank captured her lips. Time seemed to stop.

At first, Sylvie’s hands remained firmly planted on the countertop, but as the kiss lasted, she pressed a trembling hand against Frank’s face, the other tightly gripping onto his shoulder.

“Lisa says on a night like this, it’ll be so nice if you’d give me a kiss. Lisa says for just one little smile, I’ll sit next to you for a little while…”

Sylvie felt Frank nip at her bottom lip before he deepened the kiss, and she felt her heart pound even harder. His hand started to trail a path down to her waist, sending shivers throughout her body. Genuinely nobody had kissed her like this before, and it was driving her insane. Suddenly, she was desperate for more — desperate for his touch. She was completely at Frank’s mercy now, all because he was giving her something that nobody had given her. She was melting into the kiss, and all it was doing was further inflating Frank’s ego. He tasted of whiskey and cigarettes, a deathly arousing combination.

“You’re killing me.” She whispered against his lips. “You’re… you’re fucking… killing me.”

“Maybe that’s the plan.”

“You… you bas—”

Before Sylvie could even finish saying “bastard,” she was cut off by Frank roughly kissing her again.

“Just shut your fuckin’ mouth, alright?”

As his hand wandered to her thigh, Frank only added fuel to the fire by pulling away from the kiss, focusing his attention on Sylvie’s neck now. Once she felt Frank’s lips on her neck, she let out a sharp gasp, instinctually tilting her head back to grant him more access.

“Nobody’s ever done this to you before, huh?” He murmured against her neck, lips grazing the sensitive skin there.

“N… no…”

“What a shame…”

Frank was about to speak again when suddenly a voice interrupted the pair.

“Oh my God— what the fuck? Lambert said to keep the grab-ass to a fucking minimum!”

Frank rolled his eyes and turned his head around, seeing Sammy standing there looking as though she had just seen a ghost. “Fuck off, Sammy.” He hissed.

“Well, uh… at least you two are having fun.”

Once Sammy left, Frank turned back to look at Sylvie. The way she was looking at him just made something inside of him snap.

“Fuck it…”

His lips met Sylvie’s again, and then he picked her up off of the bar counter, carrying her off to the bedroom he had chosen to stay in, his lips never leaving hers. He kicked the door shut behind him, and soon he was on top of her on the bed. The two of them continued to roughly kiss each other, grabbing at each other’s clothes, and in mere minutes they were under the bedsheets, vulnerable and exposed to each other. Sylvie almost felt nervous being underneath Frank in such a state, but that nervousness was being taken over by a sudden desire that she didn’t even think she had.

Frank was practically worshiping Sylvie’s bare body, kissing her everywhere and running his hands all over her, memorizing every inch. It made Sylvie feel things she didn’t think she’d ever end up feeling, like she was some kind of divine being. Nobody had made her feel this way… ever.

“Christ, you’re beautiful,” Frank whispered against Sylvie’s collarbone. She was so small compared to him, so vulnerable. He was being taken over by a primal lust for her, one that had been slowly building up since the first moment he had laid eyes on her. Now that he could be physically close to her without anything separating them, he was giving in to that lust entirely. All he wanted right now was her. He craved her.

Frank was desperately trying to hold back, but as he continued to leave desperate kisses all over Sylvie’s neck, he realized he couldn’t take it anymore. He placed a finger against Sylvie’s lips as if he was telling her to be quiet.

“Not a fuckin’ sound, alright?”

[sirensplayhouse]

alpha state

welcome back, my little sirenettes 🕺🏾this is gonna be a short and quick to the point post😂. so i’ve been seeing a lot of posts about the different brainwaves hint my little reblogging spree i just went on and it inspired me to drop my success story on how i entered/tapped into alpha state so sit back and enjoy🫡.

so alpha state is a state of deep conscious relaxation, you feel relaxed and at peace and just have an overall sense of calmness when you’re in it (think of it as a light hypnotic state). you’re able to absorb more information, ideas and suggestions in alpha state because you’re more receptive and focused during this state.

ok siren we dgaf about you’re explanations just tell us how to tap into it🙄

ok so just like anything you can get into alpha state by simply telling your subconscious to put you in alpha state of, you can listen to brain wave frequencies like the one i’ve tagged below, you also enter alpha state when you meditate and daydream and you can do the counting backwards from 200 and counting to 200 method if you please.

siren ok we just want to know what YOU did to get into alpha state we’on care bout none of that other stuff

ok ok tough crowd😵‍💫anywaysssssss i put on this lovely little audio i tagged (and honestly i saw this tagged in another post on tumblr a year ago and decided to try it , so full credit goes to the person that found it first y’all the goat). i was sitting up during this process so i wouldn’t fall asleep , kept my head straight and my head still and moved my eyes to the top of the my tv (so i wouldn’t have to strain my eyes too far) and before i knew it i was in alpha state🤭.

it’s that simple nothing overcomplicated or anything i have done the counting up to and down from 100/200 and honestly i just felt like my mind wandered off wayyyyyy to much when i did that method and i like this one better. now there are a multitude of alpha state meditations on youtube that you can use that don’t have to be this specific one let’s be clear🧍🏾‍♀️.

and one last mention i did have my affirmation tapes playing in the background (y’all know i love me some affirmation tapes😂) while i was in alpha state and after i got out of it and took a nice lil nap (don’t judge✋🏾) i woke up to what i wanted (i did not know how to phrase this last part so this is as good as y’all getting😭🧍🏾‍♀️).

no i’m not telling y’all what i manifested😂but i will tap into alpha state again and manifest something different post a picture of what i chose to manifest just so y’all can see it’s that simple.

idk if i missed anything or what because like i said this was kinda rushed and in the spur of the moment but just in case i did, posts i recommend: boom and slap and y’all should also go check out @gorgeouslypink her work is always top tier and that’s all my little sirenettes until next time🤝🏾

[sofrosine]

— 15 LINES TAG

tagged by my beloveds @corvosattano and @nightbloodbix — thank you both!

tagging (opt in or out here!): @gwynbleidd @risingsh0t @adelaidedrubman @firstaidspray @faarkas @queennymeria @florbelles @shallow-gravy @socially-awkward-skeleton @henbased @roofgeese @belorage @strangefable @unholymilf @loriane-elmuerto @shellibisshe @cptcassian @delicateweapon @marivenah @thedeadthree @inafieldofdaisies

RULES: share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture their character/personality/vibe. Bonus points for just using dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well.

turns out to have 15 lines of dialogue for a character you have to actually write for them…disappointed and surprised. anyway — here’s five lines from my three most enjoyable to write kiddos!

1. “Bugs in chocolate. It’s a thing, isn’t it? With the FDA? Thou shalt not have more than ‘x’ number of bug bits in every chocolate bar?”

2. “Well, let’s see,” she starts, pausing to pluck an olive from the bottom of her empty martini glass. “I’ve spent the last five years working for a covert terrorist organization without knowing it. My best friend — the only person I have ever trusted with my secrets — was somehow working for that covert terrorist organization without me ever clocking it, and her mother? Well, now I have her breathing down my neck asking me where her daughter is and why I never paid attention to the ‘multitude of red flags waving in my face’. Her words, not mine. Does that answer your question?”

3. “Is it treason to say you’re tired of Captain America? It feels like treason. I’m not going back to the Raft.”

4. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack, you know that? You’re gonna kill your mother.”

5. “Oh, haha. You’re an ass, you know that? Certifiable.”

1. “How come you always think that’s the reason, huh? That I’m jealous? Maybe he’s just a dick.”

2. “I don’t think I can be better than this,” he finally admits, his voice wobbly and thick. “I don’t think I can.”

3. “What? No, Grandma, he didn’t have to—he was just making sure I got in okay. It’s fine. See? I’m fine.”

4. “I miss him,” he rasps, sucking in a shuddery, hiccuped breath. “I miss her, I miss Lily—“

5. “I do feel better now that you’re here.”

1. "No stingrays," Ryan conceded, his answer met with a disappointed stare. "Got stung by a jellyfish a couple years ago in Costa Rica, though."

2. “I haven’t been sleeping well,” he said eventually, frustrated with himself and Mark and the absurdity of it all. “It’s nothing. Just stress. Not sure if you’re aware, but this isn’t exactly an easy job. Or fun, for that matter.”

3. God, he didn’t even know. It had been a long time, and Ryan had done about as much as he could to block out the memory of his own skin burning underneath the end of a cigarette. The smell had been unbearable. “I don’t—I was a kid.”

4. “I’m gonna kiss you again,” he said. His breath ghosted over her lips. “If that’s okay.”

5. “Hey,” Ryan said after a while, rolling his head towards her. There was a playful kind of gleam in his eyes. “Tell me again how brave and heroic I was.”

[lady-potato-ninja]

Prowling the inbox like a half tame thing, just confessing that I saw your art tutorials and was like "Neat!" and then saw the potato in the name and that clinched it for me <3 /origin story sharing for free!

Anyway! I'm asking you to this dance of an ask game, because I enjoy the stories in the tags you write and then I was like, there is a function built in for being more candid~ Please tell me more lady-potato-ninja lore, as they say. ^^ Referring to this post here: >> https://www.tumblr.com/shreedle/762344461629112320?source=share <<

🧠🌂👀🌹 Okay bye! See you on the dashboard!

Ah 🙈🙈🙈 I'm so glad you liked my tutorials! I am actually in the mist of making a new one on how to better your artistic workflow! I'm not done yet- still trying to make it make sense but I hope it might help you in some way once it's out😉!

🧠- What fictional character do you relate to the most?

I’m gonna be extra because you said you liked my rambling and go for more than one character. I’ve mostly been into podcast fandoms thus far and it feels like those characters were really easy to relate to.

Mollymauk Tealeaf from Critical Role: I learned so much about myself throught this character. He’s the embodiment of change and self-love and just living life the way you want it. I was very envious of the joyful way he lived his life and it stayed with me long after I stopped watching Critical Role and I feel like now I got to this point where I love myself and the multitude ways in which I change everyday.

Martin Blackwood from the Magnus Archive: I think we’re awfully similar; in a made from the same cloth kind of way. He’s a very attentive character who tries his best to provide help, care and support to the people around him and it’s something I pride myself to do as well, one of my friends said I was an approachable person and I wear this quality as a badge of honor. I strive to be a kind-hearted person.

At a time, I was also really relating to his loneliness which I sometimes still am. Hearing about how he felt made me realise that I felt the same about me. And it actually made me take care of myself more because I couldn’t let such a deep sadness continue on in me! But don’t fret, now I’m a much happier person and I feel like it’s in part because of him, weirdly enough.  

Jang Hee-Soo from the kdrama Moving: This kdrama is so good and it really struck a chord with me for multiple reasons but mostly because I had never seen a media better portray the relationship between a parent and their child.

With her dad, Jang Hee-Soo sees what he does for her and his sacrifices and she understands him, she takes the time to know her dad as a person more than just a parental figure and she tries to give back and sacrifice what she can to help him. I feel like it’s the same way I love and cherish my parents. I see myself in the careful way she takes care of him while supporting his dreams and cheering him on. (It honestly made me cry and that’s why I haven’t finished this series yet I KEEP CRYING!)

She also has this whole motif about rage that really speaks to me. A part of me is like a fire that is inextinguishable and she’s the same.

Special mention to Hong Cha-young from Vincenzo because my gf said I was like her > The style, the goofiness and the evil not evilness🙈

🌂- You have to choose three fiction characters to help you survive in the apocalypse, who are you picking?

Senshi from delicious in dungeon: I need someone who knows enough about fauna and flora to know which plants/animal parts are good to eat in the wild and which ones are poisonous! I know how to cook and bake well enough but not enough to utilize everything in the best way and how to keep food well stocked. I feel like we would get along well plus he would remind me to actually eat and drink which is fairly important.

Aragorn from LOTR: Having a ranger in the team is essential because I lack most of what he has to offer and while Senshi might cover a similar ground, I feel like Aragorn would be helpful in many other ways such as, finding/creating shelter and keeping us from getting lost. He would be longing for his wife; I would be longing for my wife; we would be partners in long lost love stories.

Doctor Mccoy from Star Trek: I know how to give first aid + CPR, take care of burn wounds and other small wounds but in this situation, I feel like a real doctor should be a part of the team. Plus, Bones is used to critical situations with the amount of bathshit crazy things happening on the enterprise and he quickly adapts to changes. He also has great bedside manners so if I end up dying well at least my last moments will be nice lol. I almost forgot his massive balls of steel – this man is unshakable!

I think we would make the dream team: I know how to fish, mend/make (bad) clothes, bake and cook, ect. And three out of four of us know how to fight: I am a green belt in karate + I can throw handheld axes; Senshi has his axe + his shield/cauldron and Aragorn got his sword skills. I mean we’re pretty much covered in terms of leadership, nutrition, health, living quarters, troc strategies and defense… We could survive this!

👀 -Most tame ship you enjoy

Daisuga? Maybe? It’s very soft, they’re basically already married at this point lol. It’s a sweet, no conflict ship!

🌹 - What's a small fanbase you're a part of?

Gekkan Shojo Nozai kun: I watch this every summer and I can’t wait to see more if there’ll ever be more…. It’s just such a charming and chaotic show! The characters all have hilarious gimmicks that make them so endearing and you just want to see them succeed. It’s honestly really worth the watch if you haven’t seen it already!

Professor Layton: I think about replaying the games every other week < I could ‘cause I still have my DS and multiple games but I want to be able to cast it on the TV so I can play with my gf or watch her play!

[michellemisfit]

Weekly Tag Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @deedala @darlingian @suchagallabitch @energievie @creepkinginc @lingy910y @gembu-tortuesouscafeine @mickeysgaymom

1. if you could switch bodies with anybody for only one hour who would it be and what would you do?

Hmmmm. If it was ‘anything’ I’d switch with something with wings. But if it has to be a person then I guess the next best thing? Like a Circe du Soleil arial performer? Yeah, I think that’d be cool, but also after an hour I’d be kinda done. Perfect.

2. whats your most trivial / dumbest hot take?

I don’t have baths after dark. No one should. The nighttime monsters are gonna get you, if you’re wet after sundown. I don’t make the rules 🤷🏽‍♂️

3. If you had to teach a college course what would it be in?

Something animal related. Or problem solving and problem prevention. Like, I always say you can’t teach common sense but… maybe I could try?? Cause I think I’d be pretty good at it! Maybe not college. Get them earlier. While they’re malleable. Teach them how to spot shit that’s about to hit the fan. And what they can do to prevent it! Teach them how to walk into a room and register the 13 things that need to be addressed / fixed / saved / cleaned before they walk back out of the room. Yeah. I’d be good at that.

4. season 12 of shameless is suddenly happening and you’ve been put in charge! what plot point(s) are you gonna make happen?

I want them all to be settled and happy. I don’t need life to be perfect. But just…

I like Lip being into the building and decorating, but he’s soon gonna miss using his brain, so I’d like him to move into either the architecture side of things or the business management and franchising side of things.

I love Ian & Mickey being happily married forever and ever, and they’ve gone through so much shit, they should just get to be happy, but! I hate that all mentions of Ian’s bipolar were cut from season 11. This doesn’t just go away. Show me how well they deal with it now, but also how it’s still hard, and how it touches a part of Mickey’s hurt and trauma that he doesn’t want to achonowledge, and how sometimes it makes Ian self-loathing and mean and Mickey scared and angry, and when they get like this they lash out at each other. And then show me how, even when things are hard, they continue to fight for each other and choose each others, because they will ALWAYS choose each other.

Sandy is going to come back and Debbie and her are gonna make a real go of it.

Carl is going to buy and run The Alibi and it’s going to be awesome.

5. who would be your godly parent? (can be any mythology).

The Black Rabbit of Inlé.

Oh, there's no more to fear in death than in the changing of the seasons.

You all know how some rabbits seem just to throw their lives away between two jokes and a theft: but the truth is that their foolishness comes from the Black Rabbit, for it is by his will that they do not smell the dog or see the gun…But the truth is — or so they taught me — that he, too, serves Lord Frith and does no more than his appointed task — to bring about what must be. We come into the world and we have to go: but we do not go merely to serve the turn of one enemy or another. We go by the will of the Black Rabbit of Inle and only by his will. And though that will seem hard and bitter to us all, yet in his way he is our protector.

6. what’s something you love about yourself?

I’m funny, kind, competent, hard working, and creative. I hate myself a lot, but I’m also pretty fucking awesome. Two things can be true at the same time. I contain multitudes. 🤷🏽‍♂️

7. describe your day in 5 emojis:

😭🥓🍳🥲🛍️

8. what shameless character do you think you could beat in a fight?

Jimmy-Steve, Liam, and Fiona. Tommy, Kermit, and Kate. Iggy and Walter Milkovich (if they’re high, which they will be). Also Karen, Ned, and Kash.

9. tell us 2 truths and a lie, we’ll try to guess the lie!

10. do you have a pet(s). if so how did they get their name?

Mouse was named after Michael ‘Mouse’ Tolliver (Tales of the City) by Ruth and after Mouse the Temple Dog from Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files by me. Full Name: Mouse McFeathers.

Howard was named after the foreman in charge of a big building project at the farm, at the time when we rescued him as a kitten. Howard Alan Crisp, giving his name to our three kittens Howard, Alan, and Crispy. Full Name: Howard ‘Bonk Bonk’ Bambino.

Wiggins was named after the cyclist Bradley Wiggins, because he was big at the time, and it was better than Froome, which was the other name on the table, and closest to Arthur, which is what I wanted to call him. In the end we let Mouse choose by writing all the names on pieces of paper, folding them up, and picking the one she swiped off the table. Full Name: Wiggins Dangerbean.

11. show us a meme (or picture) that captures your essence

12. whats your typical coffee / tea / beverage order?

Chai Latte

I would like to tag @suzy-queued @vintagelacerosette @sam-loves-seb @lupeloto @shameless-notashamed @transmickey @heymrspatel @gallawitchxx @francesrose3 @jademickian @sickness-health-all-that-shit @metalheadmickey @gardenerian @callivich @celestialmickey @look-i-love-u @rutherinahobbit @palepinkgoat @whatthebodygraspsnot @depressedstressedlemonzest @rereadanon @the-rat-wins @tsuga-of-mars @too-schoolforcool or just hand you a flower and let you pet a puppy 🐶

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

hello! i mean this in the nicest way possible because i'm sure you're not trying to be mean but some of the things in your reblogs/tags recently kinda come across that way. i don't really like rebelcaptain fics or art where they have babies either, i agree that i don't think they would. but reblogging a post from someone who clearly does with additions saying you think that's wrong, or publicly talking in the tags about a specific post you think is "so wrong" when you could just block it silently, those both come across as pretty mean to the people who make those posts or share their headcanons. again, i don't mean to imply at all that you're trying to be hurtful, but it does kinda come across that way.

Hi anon, I’m sorry if it comes across as mean. I certainly don’t want to make anyone feel bad. But I do think I’m allowed to speak my opinions on a neutral topic so long as I a) don’t use any language that is hurtful (and I don’t think that simply saying I disagree with someone’s headcanon, however popular, qualifies as hurtful) and b) I don’t come specifically TO someone’s blog or someone’s post to shit over it in the tags. I wouldn’t do that. I’ve had others do that to me and it’s annoying at best and very hurtful at worst, especially when it’s someone’s art that they’ve poured their heart into, and I think it’s perfectly alright to ask people don’t do that. So… I didn’t!

These were the tags in question btw

And hey, yeah, just shutting up about something that annoys me but other people enjoy is free, and maybe I should have been the bigger person and done that. But tbh it was late, I was tired, and I’m not doing so hot right now, and I got a little salty on main - again, while making sure I don’t spoil anyone’s fun on the post in question but just by saying a thing in a separate post on my own blog, because people are allowed to enjoy things that I don’t! And I’m allowed to say “that’s cool but it doesn’t vibe with me at all”. That isn’t trying to be hurtful, anon, that is simply stating a fact (and honestly a boundary, because the idea of having children isn’t a happy thought for everyone! It can be upsetting to people for a multitude of reasons and I’m honestly tired of people ignoring that).

On the off chance this came from the op in question, btw, I’m very sorry you took offence, I obviously wasn’t dissing your hard work, skill or creative choices, but simply saying I didn’t love this one in particular and got a little upset that the post kept popping up on my dash and reminding me of an uncomfortable topic.

Oh, and if this is about the other headcanon post I made yesterday - you may be right I used a slightly too strong adverb? Small crime, I think, we’re all too passionate about fictional people here. But I did honestly feel like I was taking part in a discussion that people invite when they post their headcanon in the fandom tag, and op reblogged my post and didn’t seem to take offence either.

[serenailith]

know when to fold ‘em

for @dreamlingbingo​

Square: a2, poker night Rating: m Word Count: 1003 Ship(s): dream of the endless/hob gadling Warnings: none Additional Tags: poker night, it wasn't meant to turn out this way but hob isn't arguing, or complaining, matthew does NOT wanna be around these two right now Summary:

Poker night was meant to be a way to pass the time he has with his Stranger, his Friend. Turns out, poker night can go a multitude of ways. Hob Gadling loves this second way.

Link: on ao3 masterlist

Hob glances at the cards in his hand before moving his gaze to the being across the table. Dream raises a brow and places a card facedown on the table. Matthew pins the card to the table with his beak, sliding it toward himself. It gets added to the small pile beside him before he picks up another in his beak and hops across the table to hand the new card to his boss.

The air of the flat is hot against his skin. His shirt lies in a rumpled mess at his bare feet, socks long lost. Dream sits primly across from him still done up in all his bells and whistles. Even his jacket remains buttoned to his throat, though he’s lost his cravat and one boot. Hob kept his simple—jeans, a button-down, an undershirt, socks, boxers, and a belt that was wholly unnecessary. He’s lost the belt, his socks, and his button-down, and is apparently well on his way to losing his undershirt as well.

Matthew ducks his beak under his cards one-by-one, peering at the numbers. He groans and clacks his beak after the last one. “Fuck it, I fold. And I’m out. I want no part in you two undressing further for this game that I have no idea why I was here for in the first place.”

“You begged like a child until we let you join, Matthew,” Hob says with a laugh, reaching for his beer.

“Well, you should have said no.”

“We did!”

“Matthew.”

“I’m goin’, Boss, I’m goin’.”

Matthew squawks then flies across the room. Hob stands, crosses to the window, and pushes it open. Once the raven is gone, Hob closes the window again, following it with the blinds, then returns to the table. Dream waits until Hob has sat once more then places his cards facedown.

“I am following Matthew’s example. I fold.”

Hob’s mouth runs dry when long fingers nimbly work the buttons of the midnight-sky jacket, from throat to waistline to hem. Each quiet pop of a button slipping loose sends shards of want down his spine; he wants to see what Dream wears beneath. What Dream looks like under all his layers, spread out before Hob as a gift to an undeserving worshiper.

But Hob will never have that. They are friends—friends!—and nothing more. Implying so will only destroy what they’ve managed to build. Hob would never be able to handle another 1889.

Dream folds on the next hand (remaining boot) and the next (sock) and the next (remaining sock). Hob’s brain finally kicks into gear after the sixth fold, (in his defense, Dream is now shirtless and undoing his jeans), and he reaches across the table to check Dream’s cards. A royal flush against his four-of-a-kind.

“Dream… There’s no way you don’t know your hand beats mine.”

“I am well aware.”

“But…”

Hob’s words cut off as Dream rises to his feet and slowly pushes the denim down his cream thighs to fall to the floor. Hob shamefully lets himself look his fill. From narrow shoulders and defined clavicle down a surprisingly sturdy chest to the concave of a stomach to—

Oh. Oh, God.

Hob very well may die without his permission, and he can’t even be upset at the thought. Not with the visible sight of a cock tenting his boxer-briefs. Dream steps daintily, surely, out of his jeans and rounds the table. Hob aches to nip at those sharp hipbones of a thin waist, to taste the skin beneath his tongue, to—

“You may,” Dream murmurs.

“Hrng?”

“Your dreams… Your fantasies… They have called to me, begged me to entertain them. Well, Hob Gadling, I wish to do more than merely entertain them.” Dream leans down to brush cool lips against Hob’s forehead, and his hands come up to cradle Hob’s jaw. He tilts Hob’s head so their gazes meet. “I intend to participate fully, many times over, until I am all you know. If you want for that, of course.”

“I want. God, do I want.”

Hob surges upward, further into Dream’s touch. Their teeth clack together, Dream huffs out a soft laugh, then it’s right. Then it’s perfect, and Hob can scarcely remember his own name. The flames in his blood flare higher when Dream’s tongue coaxes his lips apart, strokes against his own. Hob allows himself to be pushed backwards, guided by sure hands in a direction he knows leads to the bedroom.

The cards lay forgotten on the table. I love poker night, Hob thinks before promptly forgetting about everything else as Dream kicks the door closed behind them. It’s a show of privacy they don’t need; the front door is locked, all the windows, too. But if Dream wants that symbolism, then who is Hob to argue?

He’s no one. He’d be stupid if he did.

So he keeps his mouth shut—figuratively, of course—and falls onto his back on the bed. Dream rushes to lie atop him, their bodies lining up almost perfectly. As if they were carved for each other, as if they are missing halves to a whole. As if their existences have always led to this inevitability.

Dream doesn’t hesitate to slither down Hob’s body to yank Hob’s jeans down his legs. Once finished, Dream moves back to where he was originally. Hob arches his back, lifts his hips, seeks friction for his aching cock. Dream, thankfully, takes the hint. He rocks his hips against Hob’s and kisses away the gasp that bursts forth from Hob’s lips.

Each roll of Dream’s cock against his own brings Hob closer to the point he yearns to but doesn’t quite want to reach. Not yet.

“Wait, wait,” he pants, “I—I want—”

“I know, my love. But there is plenty of time for that, is there not?”

Time. They have that. They have forever, but he wants ‘forever’ to start now. Does Dream want that forever, too?

“Forever?” whispers Hob.

“Forever.”

Hob comes with the promise

[ongreenergrasses]

Once you get this, you say five things you like about yourself, publicly. Then end this to ten of your favourite followers 🌈 🌈

[I'm all about no-pressure in ask/tag games, but hope you'll enjoy]

thank you 💖💖 i’m also a no pressure tagger/asker and i am touched you thought of me!

1) my loyalty. i am ride or die to what’s probably an unhealthy degree but i don’t actually care. once you’re in with me you’re in

2) my hair. it’s not really that special but it is distinctive

3) my multitudes. you’re all on my blog. this is a tiny fraction of my multitudes

4) my anger. anger is a part of you that loves and protects you. i have done terrible things in anger but i am so glad it is still there and that i still can get angry at injustice. now that i have better control and understanding of it, i can use it to understand when i need to leave an unsafe or unhealthy situation

5) my predisposition to maximalism bc it’s fun and colorful and chaotic

[ash-isnt-writing]

“Fake it if you don’t belong here.” - The Hell Strip, Part 2.

Characters used/Mentioned: Vanté Ramirez (OC), Zuriel Damaris ( @p-3-t-r-1-ch-0-r )

A/N: Dw there’s probably gonna be more parts than this, maybe turning this into a full series. I’m not quite sure yet. Also here’s part 1 for anybody who needs it.

DISCLAIMER: THE CONTENT UNDER THE CUT MAY BE DISTRESSING FOR SOME INDIVIDUALS! I will try my best to tag as much as I can, but in case I miss anything, proceed with caution. Reader discretion is advised. I will not take credit for neglecting this warning. As of this, every post associated with this series will simply be marked as “STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY” for I’m really not going to write this every single time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Vanté sighed, running a hand through his hair. Coming back here always felt… off, especially now that none of his other family were present down here, his father especially.

The towering black granite walls didn’t feel as intimidating anymore, and he felt like he was allowed a new freedom. Now that he wasn’t holed up inside the walls, not allowed to leave and unable to make it out, it felt more like a home.

Juggling his usual life and the castle was… certainly a task, but he got it done anyway. And every time it brought new challenges.

Just like today. When Vanté heard about his son’s fall, he quite literally dropped everything. He couldn’t imagine Zuriel being the one to fall. Zuriel, who was highly appraised by the Gods, an angel of perfection and grace. The only thing that could have made it fall is if it were tainted by a demon… but that was impossible. Right?

“Guards, I’m heading out” He said as he slipped his coat on. The two nearby castle guards nodded, one of them speaking up.

“Where to, your highness?”

“There’s been an incident in the square” Vanté responded. “It requires my immediate attention.”

“Of course” The guard nodded. “I just worry with you suddenly rushing into this. I feared it was some danger.”

“It could be if you don’t stop your yapping, boy.” Vanté warned with a glare.

The young guard immediately went quiet, shifting on the spot. He knew better than to ignore Vanté’s warnings. All of staff did. As much as he wasn’t usually one to get violent, he was also very intimidating when he did.

Vanté took his leave, eyes constantly zipping around as he made his way through the mess of lights and buildings and demons of guilty pleasures. To him, it was ever more familiar each time he came down here. He was accustomed to the chaos of his people and how they spent their time among the neon lights and the messy streets.

But it would be like a nightmare for Zuriel, and he knew that. Crowded places were never its thing, which is what scared him so much. He wanted him to be alone here for as little time as possible.

Upon that thought, his eyes landed on a familiar, frail figure, wandering around and trying to figure out his way, trying to understand where it was and what was going on.

“Zuriel!” He yelled as he spotted his son, breaking into a sprint to catch up to him. Zuriel barely had time to process before he was scooped up and into his father’s arms, Vanté’s eyes taking in every part of him, scanning for injuries, registering the changes.

“Oh, kiddo…” He mumbled, beginning to walk back to the castle. He kissed its forehead, ignoring the multitude of people staring at him, not only because he was the heir to the throne, but because of the fallen angel in his arms. “It’s okay, ‘m here… you must be so scared…”

Zuriel stuck close to Vanté. He helped calm it, at least a little. He was a breath of fresh air in all of this distress and uncertainty, the familiarity it needed right now. After all this pain and uncertainty…

“Am- Am I stuck down here?” Zuriel asked meekly, looking up at its father.

Vanté met his gaze. Zuriel didn’t belong here. If not in the Upperworld, then he’d find somewhere for him to stay in the Overworld. But he wasn’t staying down here, that’s for sure.. “…Not if I have anything to say about it.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

[crinkled-emotions]

Day 29: Daggers adopting baby aviators

I forgot that I'd already put this on my AO3! (I cbf tagging, that'll be fixed now)

This is only the first chapter of... four I think? I have three finished so far. I'll publish the remainder once I finish days 30 and 31

How crazy is it that it's February- I still don't want to talk about it 😂

I finally did my make up exam this morning and I'm tired as hell considering I didn't get home from work until 11:45 last night but it's done and I feel surprisingly okay about it? I refuse to jinx it though.

-

“Do you think she’s scary?”

“Who?”

“Captain Trace. Phoenix.”

Juliette “Cowgirl” Ryder snorted, doing up the zip on her flight suit before turning to Zoe “Pigtails” Harries.

“She’s not scary; she’s terrifying.”

Pigtails’ eyebrows shot up under her bangs and Cowgirl laughed.

“I heard there’s never a dull moment in hers and Captain Floyd’s class. C’mon, let’s go, I don’t want to be late to Admiral Mitchell’s debrief.”

Cowgirl and Pigtails left the women’s change rooms, bumping into the other members of their TOPGUN class on the way. Benjamin “Shades” Kerner was waiting on the opposite wall to the door; Hudson “Posh” Miller, Cooper “Curse” James, Wesley “Titanium” Torres and Aaron “Soggy” Scott weren’t far behind him.

“Remember; show no fear,” Soggy hissed to the rest of his team as they all grabbed their notebooks and manuals to head into the hangar. Their eyebrows raised when they realised the Daggers were already standing up the front of the classroom, looking as much the elite squad they were.

“I think I just peed a little,” Titanium confessed as he slipped past Cowgirl with a hand on her arm. The moment they were all seated they heard footsteps and faced forward, already nervously sweating. It was TOPGUN; everyone was sweating.

“Good morning, aviators.”

The man, the myth.

The legend.

Admiral Pete “Maverick” Mitchell.

-

“Phoenix, you do realise there are separate changing rooms for a reason right?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before. Seresin!”

Phoenix dodged Rooster’s arm, catching Hangman by the arm and pinning him to the lockers. For a woman standing at 5’7, she was surprisingly strong. Well, not surprising, considering her career.

“Repeat after me; I know I just came off paternity leave and I’m missing my baby but I will not be an asshole to these kids.”

“I- what? Slow down, I’m sleep deprived.”

Phoenix sent him a look and he groaned.

“Okay, fine. I know I just came off paternity leave and I’m missing my baby and wife but I will not be an asshole. Happy?”

“It’ll do. Now show me the photos!”

The Daggers all gathered around to see the photos of Hangman’s daughter- his first but by far not the first of the Dagger group. It had been eight years since the Dagger mission and it felt like they’d gone through major life changes one after another.

First, they’d all been promoted within three weeks of one another. Then again. And again, until they were all Captains. Next, the baby boom.

Payback and Coyote were already in long term relationships prior to the uranium mission but they’d married and had three kids between them (Payback’s wife had twins) within a year; Coyote and his wife had a beautiful baby boy and Payback had shown off their twin boy and girl with pride. Bob had snuck off to Florida to marry his boyfriend of three years, apparently waiting for him to come home from the mission, and they’d happily adopted a little girl after their 1 year anniversary. They were now talking about surrogacy. Fanboy had met a beautiful woman one night at the Hard Deck and they’d stayed together long enough to have their son, but it hadn’t worked out for a multitude of reasons. They were now great friends and had the poster for good co-parenting. Rooster, to everyone’s surprise, had a long term girlfriend back in Virginia Beach and she’d flown out to be with him in San Diego. They tried to start a family for almost two years without any luck, going through a couple of miscarriages, before they finally had their eldest son. He’d taken it hard but respected it when they started talking about not having another baby, only to find out his wife was pregnant when their baby wasn’t even three months old. Their daughter was born the month before their son turned 1 and the Daggers never let him forget it. Hangman was probably still laughing about it somewhere.

Even Phoenix took a breath and let herself find happiness. She cried for three days straight when she found out she was pregnant but Maverick had been quick to reassure her that her job would be waiting for her when she was ready to come back to work. She had her second baby- another boy to Rooster’s amusement- the previous summer.

Hangman had taken the six weeks paternity leave then a little extra when he saw the way his wife was struggling with recovering and caring for their new baby. It wasn’t her fault at all, it had been revealed she was suffering from severe anxiety prior to the birth and it had only worsened afterward. The last thing he wanted to do was stress her out more and he didn’t even have to beg Maverick who signed the paperwork for more time off without question.

“Daggers, let’s get a move on!” Maverick called into the change room and they all exchanged a look, scrambling to grab their helmets and go.

“Hey, Tasha, before I forget... thanks for coming by and helpin’ out, we both really appreciated it.”

Phoenix bumped Hangman’s waist.

“Yeah. You got it.”

-

The younger aviators were already seated when the Daggers walked up to the podium between the seats. They stood to either side of the lectern, leaving Maverick to do the introductions. Nervous energy was electric in the air, and Bob leaned over to whisper to Phoenix.

“Wonder if Mav’s gonna toss the manual again.”

“God I hope not, they’re expensive as fuck,” Phoenix replied. They shared a smile then returned to standing to attention when they heard those familiar footsteps. The younger team members stood as well, backs straight and hands by their sides. Maverick appeared, walking up the aisle himself to settle in front of the lectern.

“Good morning, aviators. My name is Admiral Pete Mitchell, callsign Maverick.”

“Mav,” Rooster prompted between his teeth.

“Thank you, Rooster. I’m also the Air Boss for this Naval Base, so everyone here reports to myself and your designated Captains. From left to right we have Captain Trace, callsign Phoenix. Captain Floyd, callsign Bob. Captain Fitch, callsign Payback and Captain Garcia, callsign Fanboy. Captain Machado, callsign Coyote, and Captain Seresin, callsign Hangman. Lastly Captain Bradshaw, callsign Rooster. Welcome to TOPGUN.”

The Daggers watched the reactions in the room and internally smirked to themselves. They’d worked hard to be here, they deserved to be a little cocky.

“First thing’s first; I assume you’re all familiar with the jet manual?”

“Yes sir,” echoed around the room and Maverick hummed, holding up the manual. Phoenix internally grimaced.

The manual went into the bin.

“Forget it. My version of TOPGUN means we’re going to use our brains and we’re going to test the limits of our aircraft; but we’re going to make sure we’re doing it in a way that means we’re not risking ourselves in the process.”

It may have been thirty-six years since his dad died but Rooster still dropped his gaze to his boots for a split second. Hangman bumped his shoulder and Rooster nodded at him, attention back on Maverick’s speech. The others would probably check on him later.

“Alright, team; gear up and get out there. You’ll be doing a hop with two Captains; three if it’s a two-seater. Keep your eyes open and don’t look down. Dismissed.”

The TOPGUN students scrambled out the door and Maverick glanced around the Daggers.

“Scared ‘em, right?”

“Ah c’mon, Mav,” Rooster said, “be nice. Ground crew hates cleaning out puke, you do know that right?”

“Thanks, Bradley,” Maverick deadpanned. The team all fell in behind him as he made an exit out of the classroom.

-

A few days passed and the Daggers had taken every opportunity to wipe the floor with the new kids; there had been plenty of panicked sounds and pushups. So many pushups.

“Hey, Shades, wait up!”

Shades whipped around, finding Rooster jogging up to him. He paused mid-step, waiting for the older man to catch up.

“I wanted to ask; have we met?”

“I’m not sure, sir. Have you served in Oceania or Milwaukee?”

Rooster’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, no, but I was actually referring to- uh.”

“Uh?”

“Ron Kerner... any relation?”

Shades’ face softened and he lifted his sunglasses from his eyes to prop them on top of his head.

“My grandfather on my mom’s side; kinda saved her ass and then mine too. Why?”

“Huh. Uh, your grandfather was one of my dad’s best friends. Crazy- hey, your mom’s Maya right? How’s she doing?”

Benjamin shrugged.

“Fine, I think. We don’t talk all that often, I don’t think she loves the idea of me being here.”

“My mom didn’t either.”

It just fell out of Rooster’s mouth, the fact he’d wrangled out of Maverick after the mission under the premise of tears and begging to know the truth. Benjamin frowned.

“Oh, no, we’re just... it’s personal.”

“I get that.”

A pregnant pause. Finally, Rooster cleared his throat.

“Thanks for clearing that up. You’re dismissed.”

“Yes sir.”

Shades returned to walking down the hallway whilst Rooster reached for his phone and flicked through his contacts.

“Hey Mav. No, I’m fine- can you meet me in your office? I need to have a look at Shades’ file. No- yeah, Benjamin. Kerner? Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

-

“Captain Trace?”

Phoenix glanced up at the call of her name, smiling at the younger women standing by the door.

“Hey guys; how’s it going? Please, Phoenix is fine.”

Cowgirl and Pigtails hesitantly stepped into the room and Phoenix finished fixing her boot, standing in front of them.

“Everything okay?”

“How do you do it?” Pigtails blurted, “be a kickass naval aviator, keep up with the boys’ club and be a mom?”

Phoenix blinked. Snorted.

“Well, uh, I don’t always. I have a great husband and we talk openly, and the guys here aren’t so bad. Don’t worry about Captain Seresin, he’s gone soft in his old age.”

“Isn’t he only 38?”

“Good answer, we’re the same age. What can I do for you two?”

“Nothing, we just- uh. You’re kind of a legend at the academy, Phoenix... it’s surreal to be learning from someone like you and we’re really grateful for this opportunity.”

Phoenix smiled.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you to say.”

As she headed for the exit Pigtails and Cowgirl followed like lost puppies, finally taking the opportunity to confirm some gossip.

“Phoenix, we were wondering if you knew how Captain Bradshaw got his callsign?”

Phoenix snorted.

“I gave it to him.”

They stared. Gobsmacked. Phoenix sighed.

“Okay no, it’s nothing like that... did you guys ever hear about the can opener on Suits?”

Cowgirl and Pigtails exchanged a look, and Phoenix grinned.

“Exactly; no one knows except me and Harvey Specter.”

-

“They’ve been staring for, like, five minutes, man.”

“Were we ever like that?”

“You were worse. For the record.”

Hangman and Coyote jolted apart when Maverick interrupted their gossip session, glaring at the Admiral.

“Maverick, why the sneak attack?” Hangman complained. Maverick grinned, gesturing toward Posh and Curse who were standing off to the side in the dining hall, pretending they weren’t staring at Hangman and Coyote from a distance.

“You could ask them if they wanted to eat with you,” Maverick suggested. Hangman scoffed and Coyote grimaced, which earned a snort.

“Okay, c’mon you two, I’ve read your files and you two weren’t angels at TOPGUN either. The least you could do is make sure they’re adjusting to this okay. It’s elite training, they’re probably scared as hell.”

“I wasn’t, I got in there and I kicked ass,” Hangman rebutted, but the hand on his shoulder stopped him from walking away.

“Those two are from the same town, they spend all their free time together and Posh is Curse’s wizzo. Ringing any bells?”

“I’m not his wizzo,” Hangman complained at the same time as Coyote sighed.

“Yes, sir. We’ll go make sure they’re handling it alright.”

“That’s what I want to hear. Report back if there’s any issues.”

“Thanks Mav.”

Maverick went to merge back into the crowd of aviators but Hangman called out at the last second.

“Hey, you seen Bradshaw anywhere?”

Maverick hummed.

“Something about Shades, he’s reading his file back in my office. I left him to it.”

Hangman and Coyote exchanged a look, a silent agreement. Hangman got up to go and check on Rooster whilst Coyote rounded to the table with Posh and Curse, greeting them with a relaxed smile and a joke.

-

“Captain Garcia?”

“Lieutenant Torres, is everything alright?”

“Sir, I think I need to... request a new pilot.”

Fanboy sat up at his desk, gesturing for Titanium to take a seat in front of him. The WSO did as told, wringing his hands together.

“It’s okay; just start from the start.”

“I- uh, well...”

Fanboy put down his pen and locked his computer’s screen.

“You wanna go hang shit on Payback and talk about what’s going on?”

Titanium blinked.

“Sir...”

“C’mon; it’s that or we find Captain Bradshaw and he puppy-eyes you into telling him all of your life’s secrets. He might be scary as fuck but he’s also scary good at it. Trust me.”

Fanboy stood, gesturing toward the door. Titanium hesitantly followed him into the office adjacent where Payback glanced up.

“What are you... uh, Lieutenant Torres, is everything okay?”

“He said something about a new pilot and I thought you and I could weasel the story out of him, no Bradshaw eyes needed.”

Payback leaned back in his seat, a knowing look crossing his face.

“That’s probably a good idea. Alright, Torres, what’s going on?”

“I- uh... Cowgirl- I mean Lieutenant Ryder- and I... we have known each other for a really long time... before we even flew together.”

Fanboy leaned back in his seat, smirking. Payback’s eyebrow raised.

“Okay...? I would have thought it would make you a good pair-“

“-Payback, man, they’ve been-“

“-and that’s why I think we should be separated. I know it complicates things, especially because we made it all the way to TOPGUN, but... yeah.”

Fanboy and Payback exchanged a look, then Payback nodded.

“I’ll talk to Maverick about it; have you mentioned this to Ryder?”

“She... doesn’t get it.”

“Hm,” Payback and Fanboy mused at the same time.

“Do we have to mention it to Admiral Mitchell, sir? I don’t think he’d appreciate knowing that I slept with my pilot.”

“Maybe; maybe not. It’s not professional conduct from either of you, but Maverick’s a wild card. He’s been in the Navy a really long time and it’s probably not the first time he’s heard of this happening.”

“It’s so rare than women and men aviators are paired together for this exact reason, Captain Fitch.”

“Yeah, maybe so, but you’d be surprised. You leave Maverick to us.”

“Us?” Fanboy hissed. Payback waved him off.

-

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, honey.”

Rooster glanced over his shoulder at his wife, sending her a soft smile when she put a hand on his back then stood beside him at the dining table. He had Shades’ file out in front of him, clearing his throat.

“Uh, well. I think I might have. Kids already down?”

“For now. Did something happen at work?”

Rooster hummed, leaning back in his seat.

“You might want to sit down for this one... or help me do the math.”

“Okay...?”

She took a seat, reaching over to take his hand.

“No more secrets, Bradley, remember what the marriage counsellor said?”

“I know. Uh, so, the Kerners- you remember Ron Kerner and his wife Sophie? They had a daughter and she was a couple years older than me, Maya. We... were a thing.”

“Oh no, is this one of those things about your first love? I don’t need to know about the first time you got laid-“

“-we were together for over a year, I barely turned 16 and she was almost 18 when her dad decided to leave California after Iceman- Tom Kazansky- was promoted to Admiral and he wasn’t going to be flying anymore. Ron and Sophie took Maya with them and that was the last I heard from them because soon after I had my fight with Mav and got the fuck outta town.”

“I’m following so far. What does this have to do with work?”

Rooster gestured to the file in front of him, Shades’ headshot and a brief typed description of his accomplishments. Neatly typed into the box lay his date of birth, and Rooster’s wife sucked in a breath.

“You’ve got another kid? He’s an adult?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say anything, but I don’t know if he knows. Do I ask him? Do I see if I still have Maya’s number? Shit, this is complicated. The dates kind of match up I think but Maya would have said something. I thought she would have called...”

Mrs Bradshaw stood, dropping a kiss to his temple before leaving to get one of the kids yelling for her. In the meantime, Rooster reached for his phone.

Rooster: we need to meet before work tomorrow morning

Maverick: that’s so early

Maverick: I’m an old man now

Rooster: it’s important and I’ll bring coffee

Maverick: See you at 6:30

Maverick: everything okay?

Rooster: kind of

Maverick: that’s mildly daunting

Rooster: see you at 6:30

-

[todaddyroki]

KrBk - slight hurt all comfort

Tags: vague descriptions of injury, soft krbk, sfw, fluff

Eijirou doesn’t think he took Katsuki for granted. But they’ve been together for so long that it’s hard to remember all the details of what they were like before. It was like looking at the memories through a dream, bits and pieces fragmented and out of order. Fumbling for the thread of what happened really but getting distracted by how you felt during it all. And then you’d wake up, shuffling through the tossing and turning and forget about the dream in the busyness of the day. And they are busy. So busy. Pro heroes don’t usually get a break.

But not this time. This time Katsuki said that Deku could take over. And when Eijirou said “but what about the rankings!?” Katsuki tch’ed with his sharp grin and said “Like I couldn’t climb them again after.”

The doctor said to keep the incision site dry. How Eijirou was supposed to do that when the bandage took up half his side was beyond him.

Eijirou was independent to a fault, something that kept him and Katsuki tied tight as partners in the field and at home. Katsuki could trust him to know his limits and when to ask for help. But injuries take it out of you in the most ridiculous of ways.

Like now, when Ei’s is sniffing away the tears welling in his eyes while he sponges his body off gingerly in the shower, despondent and droopy. Doing his best to keep his bandages dry. Feeling weak as a kitten and just as scraggly.

“Tch. You’ll never get clean doing that. Let me help dumbass.” Katsuki’s words had bite, but his tone was a blanket, warm and soft to the touch.

Eijirou couldn’t stop the tears trickling down his cheeks. Feeling helpless didn’t feel very manly right now. No matter how much he told his injured friends that “resting is manly!”

Katsuki squinted at him and handed him a dry washcloth. Ei mopped his tears and let Katsuki lather the sponge up against his back, his arms, his legs and his side. Let his partner wipe him down with warm water and marveled that he kept the entire bandage dry. Katsuki was so fucking awesome.

“Tilt your head back and to the side, I’m going to wash your hair. It stinks.” Katsuki’s tone was matter of fact, and Eijirou smiled a bit, because he was right. A week and some change in bed with sweaty hair was what made him muster the energy to get up and try to bathe.

He didn’t realize that the tender touch of Katsuki’s normally lethal hands would undo him. Katsuki was so gentle, working his fingers in deep, rubbing out the knots and squeezing out the excess water. It felt like love. Like those first few months moved in together.

Of shared showers — for efficiency they would say (haha!) that were just reasons to touch each other. Moments to be close and naked and alive. Getting the that spot in the middle of their backs that they couldn’t reach. Katsuki always too rough, Eijirou always taking too long, Peppering the clean skin that Katsuki couldn’t reach with kisses, laughing at Katsuki’s grumping. Eijirou thought fondly of those knocking knees (it was a very small shower) and water that would turn cold half way through.

Those showers were few and far between now. Too busy. More rooms than they knew what to do with in their house. A multitude of showers to choose from.

But this one Katsuki had chosen with him in it. Tears poured down Eijirou’s face while Katsuki grabbed the conditioner bottle, rubbing it in on the ends of his long red hair. He was hmm-ing softly under his breath, not a song but in concentration, making sure each strand was coated and none was in Ei’s eyes. Katsuki was blurred by the haze of tears but he still looked beautiful. Hair greying, crows feet at the corners of his eyes, his partner.

“Okay. You’re all done.” Katsuki stepped back and Eijirou went to tilt his head back upright. “Don’t move you idiot! You’ll drip all over your bandage.”

Katsuki threw a towel over him and scrubbed roughly, making Ei laugh. His laughter made Katsuki pause, gentling his hands and Pressing his lips to Eijirou’s temple.

“You’re gonna be alright Ei. I’m here to make sure of it.”

[lokihutchersonmellark]

WIP Whenever

I was tagged by @gothdaddyissues I have a few things going right now but this is the most sfw I have. However, you can draw your own clues at where it’s heading. 😉 I am still working on my actual WIP, just very slowly. It’ll be out eventually, I’m hoping by Christmas since it’s about halfway done.

—————————————————————————

Blood.

It’s what keeps every vampire alive. It’s what keeps Copia alive. They need it. It satisfies their hunger and provides them nourishment.

However not all blood tastes and smells the same. Some are sweeter while others are rotten.

Copia wanted you for a multitude of reasons, beyond what his natural instincts are. But the smell of your blood is what brought him to you.

It wasn’t like any he had before. It was intoxicating to him and he craved it. He craved you.

To top it off, you couldn’t say no to him. Something about him drove you mad. He was just as intoxicating to you, even though you didn’t share his gift.

When he confided to you about his secret, you knew for sure that he loved you. And you loved him.

From then on, you let him drink your blood.

When he finally got to taste your blood for the first time he almost killed you. He couldn’t stop, try as he did. That led to an interesting trip to the hospital.

He was extremely apologetic about it and wouldn’t stop trying to make it up to you, even though you told him it wasn’t his fault. You can’t hold his instincts against him and you certainly can’t blame him for being lost in you.

From then on, he became extra cautious when he drank.

For a time, he was letting himself starve because he was scared of hurting you again.

Something had to be done.

Before he told you, you noticed how his behavior would change when your period would come around

Im tagging @copias-girl and whoever else would like to join in!