#I'm sorry but the pun opportunity was right there

[toubledrouble]

Interesting fact I think you didn't know (and which I've learned from my chemistry teacher that worked in different branches of the industry his entire life):

Czech people are kind of radiation resistant because we literally live on radioactive soil (the entire country is filled with uranium. When Marie Sklodowska Curie discovered radiation, she was using Czech uranium).

And that's also why we handled the Chernobyl radiation so well - we're used to it and basically immune to it.

That's right folks, Czechs are basically radioactive

[hongtonie]

jongho as bears for @applejongho wishing you a bear-y happy birthday<3

[jointherebellion215]

His Kiss, The Riot

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: When you and your secret lover make plain to Feyd-Rautha your wishes for a life together, despite the proposed arranged marriage, he surprisingly acquiesces. But he can't let you go so easily, can he? Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.

Word Count: 1.6k

TW: manipulation, Dark!Feyd-Rautha, arranged marriage, NONCON elements, gore, violence, she/her pronouns, female!reader, tragedy, star-crossed lovers, songfic, not quite a happy ending (oops), dark dark dark interpretations of Hadestown and the story of Orpheus and Eurydice.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read If It's True and liked, reblogged, or commented. I appreciate every single one of you. As always, I would love some feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs if you can :)

This is Part Two to my Feydestown trilogy (I'm so sorry for the pun). You can read Part One here.

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.

The devil takes this Orpheus

And his belladonna kiss

“So you wanna get married? Take away the woman I just offered my hand to, to whom I all but have legal claim?”

Your beloved’s replied words of affirmation to his words hold the slightest tremor, but like a dog to fresh meat, Feyd-Rautha sniffs this out immediately. Another smile graces his face. Feyd speaks to the crowd now, “Yes, I was promised the Lady’s hand in marriage. But! I am a benevolent figure, so I guess I’ll let the lovebirds go.”

The crowd starts to give polite applause, while your knees grow weak at the news. You can go? Has love really prevailed on this day?

“However,” and with that, your heart drops “I have some conditions for these… nuptials.”

You could sense the air growing thick with tension as the reality of the na-Baron’s ruling twists out of your favor.

“Conditions?” You whispered.

“Of course, my darling! I can’t make this too easy on you, now can I?” Feyd paces back and forth on the steps from which he speaks, making your eyes dart back and forth with each step he takes. Vigilance overtakes your body in case of any rash decisions.

“You two can leave the city, but it won’t be hand in hand. This pair will have to walk in single file, with the boy in the front and my darling Lady at least thirty paces behind. No ships, no speeders, no running. Walking.”

The energy of the room starts to grow more electric as the points of this term seem to set in.

“The Lady cannot speak out or make any indication of her following behind. You’ll be faced forward the whole journey. Once you reach the edge of the city and passed the threshold, you can be together for eternity.”

Your breath hitched. Seems easy enough, right?

“But, if the boy so much as turns his head to check and see if the Lady is following, the deal is off. She’ll return to me, and we will be married.”

Nothing makes a man so bold

As a woman’s smile and a hand to hold

“Is this a trick?” Your beloved asks plainly.

Feyd tilts his head, pacing down the steps to ground level. “Now, what makes you say that? I’m being generous. I’ve set my terms.” He is now nose-to-nose with the man attached to you. 

“Now meet them or face the consequences.”

The hand holding yours is now pooled with sweat. You quickly and subtly jerk the arm of your beloved when he starts to protest, not recognizing a gift when he sees one. You bow, the picture of poise and grace that you were raised to be. There is still time to leave with all of your limbs intact, you could not afford to slip up now.

“We offer our most sincere gratitude, my Lord na-Baron. Thank you for this most auspicious opportunity. We will not squander it.” 

Your beloved gives a clumsy bow to match yours. Feyd’s manic smile grows as he clasps his hands together. The sound echoes through the hall.

“So it shall begin!” 

But all alone his blood runs thin

And doubt—doubt comes in

The pair of you hold hands, side-by-side, at the entrance of the palace gates. A crowd has followed you to the edge, with onlookers from the outside spectating the unexpected appearance of a noble. Occurrences like this did not happen often, if ever.

“You heard the terms. The Lady must walk thirty steps behind. She must not speak to you.” Your hands reluctantly separate, following the orders you were given. You can feel your heart pounding with each step that you take away from each other.

“Some of my guard will accompany you, to ensure that you comply to the letter.” Four Harkonnen warriors step forward and encase you in a square formation, leaving the love of your life alone and vulnerable. He looks back towards you, fear and doubt creeping into his eyes. You nodded at him, believing that you could succeed in your task. That you would prevail.

“You may begin.” Feyd voices, and with that—you start your journey. Step by step, you walk further through the foliage that immediately surrounds the castle gates and into the city square.

Once you and your beloved reach the horizon, Feyd turns to walk past the crowd and back into the corridor.

Your father, the Duke, bows quickly and offers his gratitude, but is ignored as the younger Harkonnen goes to gather his blade and shield. With a yell, he summons his guards to formation. As Feyd checks the integrity of his weapon, one of the Baron’s advisors tentatively steps towards him.

“My Lord, perhaps you should consider letting them go—” In the blink of an eye, the man is silenced with a swift slash to the throat. Blood spills through the advisor’s hands as he struggles to put pressure on the opening. His body flops to the floor and Feyd carelessly steps over the writhing body to march forward.

“Let’s go fetch my bride.”

Dangerous this jack of hearts

It had been almost an hour of walking by this point. There had been almost a dozen times where you wanted to give any audible indication to your lover that you were here. A whisper, a whistle, a stomp of your foot. Anything. But now you could see the edge of the city, you could almost taste it. 

A life with your love was within reach. 

The guards accompanying you shifted inward, almost boxing you in. You were hopeful, but nerves were creeping in.

This was going well. Too well.

The grand arch signifying the edge of the city was above your lover now. The field that you used to meet at in secret lay just beyond it. You’re almost there. Just twenty more steps and you could be together, forever. 

He steps over the threshold, you see his shoulders lift and fall in an exhale. Then, the man you had fallen in love with— who you wholly believe in— slowly turns his head to lock eyes with you. A pale figure steps out from behind a pillar accompanying the arch.

The growing smile on your face immediately falls. You call out his name.

Oh no. 

The na-Baron tsked and shook his head, as if scolding a child. Harkonnen troops flanked the area, giving Feyd-Rautha enough berth to have his fun. The three of you were surrounded, but only one really had the advantage.

“You were so close!”

Your beloved held out a hand, “Wait, wait! I made it over!” He started to back away in fear, unarmed and exhausted from the long walk. Colorful, ripe foliage brushed his legs as he back into your field.

“Ah, but she didn’t. So, face the consequences.”

Then his blade pierced the man you love. 

Your ears started to ring, throat working itself raw as you wailed. Tears blurred your vision, you could hear the gurgles of the blood leaving your fiancé’s mouth and the slosh of his newly disemboweled entrails hitting the lush field before you.

With his kiss, the riot starts

His body made a sick thud on the floor, and your body jumped along with it. 

You ran towards your dead lover, cradling his face and sobbing for the soul that was just ripped away from you. He didn’t deserve such a violent end. His only crime was loving you and being loved in return.

A chuckle sounded from above you, and you turned your tear-stained face to the brutal Harkonnen. He was covered in the blood of your lover, his spoils of war staining his pale skin. Black teeth on full display, his shoulders gave a slight shake as he expressed his humor. His laughter sparked a rage in you like you’d never seen before. It didn’t matter what bonds you may or may not have formed over the conversations you had the last week. He’s a monster. He needs to pay for what he’s done. 

Red flooded your vision.

With a roar, you lunged for the man. His laugh grew more manic as you smacked, punched, kicked, and hit every visible part of him that you could identify. In your grief, every ounce of training that you received flew out the window. He took every blow with a smile, as if he enjoyed the punishment you were attempting to bestow on him.

“There we go, my darling. Show me your pain. Your rage!”

Your mind started to clear with the more hits you landed. With a quick swipe, you had the weapon that killed your beloved against the naBaron’s neck. The Harkonnen soldiers immediately stepped forward, but Feyd stopped them with a wave of his arm.

“Ah ah ah! Leave her be.” His grin almost split his face in half, specks of dried blood making a painting of his face. 

“Do it. Go ahead, come on.”

He pressed his neck forward, purposefully putting pressure on his own blade. Fresh blood started to trickle down his neck, adding to the gallons already spread all over his uniform. 

The shock of his willingness to put his life on the line made you hesitate, which made him cackle in your face. Your anger made you draw the blade back and slice it across his chest. A groan left Feyd’s mouth, 

“Good girl.”

An unexpected thunk to the head made your vision start to spin. Feyd’s arms braced around you, slowly lowering you to your knees and down to a lying position. He cradled your head as if you were a precious commodity, when he leaned forward and captured your limp lips with his. 

As black started swallowing your vision, you heard him say,

“Don’t worry, my darling bride. It’ll all be alright. You won’t feel a thing.”

[iid-smile]

one percent , itadori yuji

x gn!black cat!reader ! mentions of ijichi, calls you 'baby' and 'cupcake',

author's note: i dont like this but i wanted it out of my drafts so.... in thought? cool idea. the way i wrote it? uhhh... questionable. + i rushed at the end and idk how to fix it </3 please i just wanted this out of my drafts okay 😭

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

ten percent.

it's afterschool, and you got six text messages in a row, all of them from itadori. something about picking up a call? you don't even know. you don't even have enough time to read the first before the next comes, all of which being complete gibberish with letters all over the place. for a bit, your finger hovers over the notification banner, before being rudely interrupted by a... call. wow, what a surprise. of course, it's itadori too.

you pick up.

"hello—"

"BABYYYYY!"

ouch. it was a mistake not putting it on speaker. you pull the phone away from your ear and change the audio, sighing before deciding to speak again. "what's up?"

"my phone is dying!" wow, also what a surprise, somehow, itadori's phone is never changed, and after your facetimes at night, you'd remind him to change his phone, but in the middle of the day?

"then why are you calling me? that's gonna drain it quicker."

"no, no, that's all part of the plan." he pauses. seems like he's breathing heavy. "i figured that if i call you, the quicker i'd try to get back to my dorm. so—"

"you're running?"

"yep!"

nine percent.

you had to take a pause yourself from the multiple thoughts running (no pun intended) through your head. "why aren't you near the school?"

"i was on—" he stops again. "i was on a mission!"

"without telling me?"

"sorrrrryy, sorry, okay? i forgot." oh, now he's getting sulky. "you're always getting so angry at me. i'm strong, you know?"

"yeah, yeah. i know." you thought he would say something else afterwards, but considering he's in a race with his own phone percentage at the moment, you'll have to do most of the talking. "where was it?"

"where was what?"

"the mission."

"oh! somewhere in shinjuku." minus the heaving breathing, itadori said that so casually you had to think about what he actually said. shinjuku is near the center of tokyo. and where is the school? on the outskirts of tokyo, in the mountains. just how fast and far does he have to be running to reach is dorm?

eight percent.

now, this is concerning. "and you're running from there? that's too far! yuji, you're not going to make it!"

"nothing is too far if it's you i'm running for!"

the scoff that came from you really couldn't be prevented. "you're embarrassing." thank god he didn't facetime you, if that would even be possible from his perspective, otherwise you'd have to hide the blush on your face with your hoodie.

itadori chuckles a bit, slightly interrupted by a quick 'excuse me!'. must've nearly bumped into someone. "might be~"

"no— actually, why isn't ijichi picking you up? he has a car for a reason. don't waste your battery on me."

"i haven't done cardio in a while. everything is a training opportunity if you try hard enough."

"...seriously?" you deadpan. "you're running from shinjuku all the way to the school. how is that training?"

seven percent.

"i was busy— you know. practicing cursed energy and stuff, so i— oi, how has it gone from seven to four percent that quick?!"

four percent. (according to him)

"that's what happens when you call someone. it drains it quicker. didn't i tell you that right at the beginning?"

"oh come on, don't be like that, cupcake! hearing your voice is motivating for me."

"concerning."

"is not! 'm nearly there, okay? just believe in me."

"mm."

his voice suddenly grows a little quiet. "baby?"

"what?"

"believe in me."

"i am."

"say it. please?"

you sigh. "i believe in you." it really can't be helped, can it?

three percent.

the dangling charms on your phone twirl around your finger as you fiddle with them, half-absently listening to the noises of his shoes hitting the ground and the surroundings getting less and less loud. "how much longer till you get there?"

"i dunno... five minutes? i'll make it in less than anyway."

"your phone's not gonna hold out for another five minutes on four percent. have you seen how quick the battery drops even when it's off?" your eyebrows furrow, and you switch your phone from one ear to the other.

"well, you never know. it's been pretty good, and it's on three—" itadori's voice lightens, and you know exactly what that means.

two percent.

"...two percent now."

"yuji."

he chuckles sheepishly. "relaaax, baby! i'll just run faster."

"your stamina scares me." you hear a constant pitter-patter coming from his side and it seems like he's heading up the lengthy steps leading up to the entrance. "nearly?"

"very much nearly! i— i'm nearly at my room!"

you sigh, but it's more in amusement than anything. "congratulations."

one percent.

"yes! yes! i made it—!" the call suddenly cuts off.

oh.

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

[grapesplease]

i love you (i'm sorry)

astarion x half-drow!male!bard! tav

sum. altair has a panic attack in the underdark (being an ex-slave does that to you) and astarion is the one who keeps him together. he also has some conflicting feelings on his relationship with altair.

an. first altair piece i ever wrote, all of it will be posted here but if you want to find the rest of it its posted on ao3 under the user grapesplease. i love writing for my tav and will be writing much more :)

wc. 2.1k

The silence was deafening.

Astarion knew that something was wrong with Altair, he’d be a horrible partner(?) otherwise. Gods, he’d be an idiot to not notice, whatever was going on with him was obvious to the whole party.

Shadowheart sends him a glare, “Say something to him!” She mouths.

He glares back, mouthing, “What?”

She groans, and Astarion huffs out an exasperated sigh. What would he even say to him? There wasn’t any doubt that he was close to Altair, that was made clear after their first rendezvous at the tiefling’s party, and with how the party expressed their annoyance at them, he knew that they knew too. He still wasn’t even sure that their relationship was anything more than the flirty banter and the occasional late-night tryst.

“I think we should set up camp.” Lae’zel, surprisingly, was the first to speak, breaking what felt like hours-long silence, “I think everyone can agree that a night’s rest is needed.”

Altair’s eyes scanned the area, and he acquiesced, only giving a nod and a quiet, “Alright then..” to the rest of the group.

The elf can’t help but worry, as much as he hates to admit it. Everyone is, as he’d wormed (no pun intended) his way into everyone’s hearts. Astarion doesn’t know if he should go and talk to him, and he doesn’t have the opportunity to. As Lae’zel is, again, the first to speak up.

“Altair.” She stands in front of his tent, Altair flinching as he turns to face her, “What is wrong with you? You’ve been awfully alert, is there something wrong with this place? Or is there something wrong with you?”

Astarion cringes at the face Altair makes when Lae’zel asks if there’s something wrong with him.

“It’s nothing. Lae’zel, I’m just feeling a little off being here."

Astarion scoffs, a little off? As if he wasn’t making the “I’m going to murder someone” face for like three hours straight.

“Underdark doesn’t exactly bring back fond memories, you know, with the whole forced servitude thing..”

She only sighs, grumbling but taking that as a satisfactory answer. “Just don’t let it endanger us, istik.”

Altair lets out a sigh of relief as she walks off, and his gaze flits over to Astarion, realizing he was watching the whole thing. He lets out an exasperated groan, and motions for Astarion to come over. He shuts his book, plastering a flirty smirk on his face and sauntering over.

“So, is there ‘something wrong with you’, dear?” He jokes, mimicking the cadence of Lae’zel’s voice, “You have been awfully on edge, darling.”

“That obvious?”

“Very.”

He groans, sinking down to the ground, his face buried in his hands. “Fuuuck. Gods, I’m stressed.”

“That much is clear.” Astarion retorts, moving to sit down next to him. “Good to know that it’s stress, I couldn't tell if you were wanting to kill me or needed a drink.”

“I go for either right now, to be honest.” He jokes, looking up at Astarion, “I found something here, Astarion.”

He doesn't like the tone that Altair takes, it sends an uncomfortable jolt up his spine. He follows him into his tent, spotting an journal atop Altair’s makeshift desk. The journal's a pretty little thing, its gold embroidery shimmering against the light of Altair's lamp.

“Oh, is it cursed? Is this one for Gale or for me?” He asks, running his fingers over the embroidery. He would've appreciated the work more, if not for how grave Altair sounded.

“It might as well be.” He grabs the journal, flipping through its pages. “I haven't been all too honest with my background, Astarion. I don't think I can hide it anymore, either.”

The vampire raises an eyebrow, “So you're telling me that you aren't just a bard from Baldur’s Gate? What a surprise!”

“I’m being serious, Astarion!” He snaps, flipping to the most recent page of the journal. Astarion tenses up, frowning at him.

“The writer of this journal, she's out to fucking kill me! She found me back then, when I was in Baldur’s Gate, she- she found where I lived, and she's found me here too! Gods-”

His hands grip tightly at the edges of the journal, his breathing getting ragged and uneven. Astarion softly places his hands on his shoulders, trying to ground him.

“Breathe, darling.” He hasn't had much experience calming people, but he hopes that this is working. This is a new side to Altair, one that he’d hid well up until this point. “She's not here, we're safe, and even if she finds us, we can take her, I’m sure of it.”

“No! No, that's how she gets you!” Altair chokes out, looking up at him with fearful eyes. “She pretends, she acts all nice, getting you to trust her- then she tears it all away! Everything! She's already done it once to me, and now she's going to do it again! She’s going to torture you- and everyone here, and she's going to make me watch.”

A sob falls from his throat, his tears leave dark splotches on his pants, “And she's going to do it because she owns me- and- fuck, she’s going to find out I care about you! She’s going to make me fucking miserable, going to make me beg and grovel under the heel of her boot for forgiveness, and then she’s going to kill me.”

What?

..He cares for him?

What a mistake, he thinks, a stupid mistake, putting faith into someone like him.

But this is exactly what he wanted, right? To have Altair, the poor sod, the easiest target, his victim, care for him enough to protect him. To be willing to fight and inevitably die to Cazador or the Absolute for him.

It was the same stupid charade, one he’d done for 200 hundred years.

He forces those thoughts back down, looking Altair in the eye. This- This he could deal with later, his newfound guilt wasn't what was important here. The sobbing mess in front of him was, the sobbing mess that foolishly cares about him was what was important right now.

“Listen, she isn't here. I’m not going to die, I promise. She would've been here ages ago if she wanted to kill me.” He forces back the bile that threatens to rise up his throat as he comforts him, feeling like the biggest hypocrite in the world, “We’re safe, dear.”

Altair only sharply inhales, shaking his head, his long hair falling over his face.

“No- no, she's here, I can feel it, I know. She's fucking hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike!”

“Look at me.” Astarion brushes away the hair from his face, his voice lowering to a whisper. “We're okay, I’m safe, everyone’s safe, I’m not dying today. No one is going to die. I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I- I..” Altair tries to steady his breathing, despite how his heart thumps wildly in his chest. “You promise?”

Astarion tries to hide his guilt.

“Yes love, I’m not going anywhere.”

Altair heaves out a heavy sigh, wiping his tears. Gods above, this was all too much for him, too many of his feelings laid bare for a man who he wasn't even sure really loved him. His true feelings had been unceremoniously spilled, his heart exposed for Astarion to see.

He wasn't a bard who told beautiful tales of romance or adventure, nor a gladiator who fought valiantly for his own freedom. He wasn't any of those fucking things. But gods! He wishes he was! He wishes he had the strength he pretends to have in front of everyone, but now Astarion knows.

He knows that he’s just a scared man, constantly running and hiding from everything that scared him. He knows that he cries like a child, forever terrified of his past.

Altair isn’t someone who confronts his past, he hides like a coward, running away to the far corners of the world thinking that he can hide. He wants to love Astarion, wants to care, he wants to do all of that without the looming fear that it’d be taken from him.

That his past would eventually catch up to him and it’d all disappear.

“Astarion, I..” His face is flush with embarrassment, head hanging in shame, he feels like he could die on the spot, “I’m sorry, for all of this.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He calmly replies, “I think we’ve all been stressed, and it's not like you haven't seen me panic every once and a while.”

Altair snorts, letting out a dry chuckle, “Yeah, last time you did, you ended up killing a man.”

“He deserved it!” Astarion retorts, gasping dramatically.

“Sure, sure..” He wipes at his eyes, but realizes that Astarion is already moving to exit his tent. Was he just going to leave, now that Altair had calmed down? No, he couldn't be alone yet.

He tugs at Astarion’s sleeve, stopping him in his tracks.

The man turns and tilts his head, giving Altair a sultry smirk, “What? You just got your breath back, and now you want me to take it away again? Darling, if you wanted to sleep with me, this is a cute way to ask~”

“No! No, I just want-” He groans, refusing to meet Astarion’s amused gaze, “I wanted you to stay.”

“That’s what I’m offering?”

“Not like that!” His head snaps up to look at him, seeing a brief flash of surprise from the elf, “I don't want to be alone, not yet.”

“Not yet” Astarion feels a pang of familiarity, Altair sounded like he was resigned to being lonely forever, like Astarion himself would be temporary and he’d never talk to him again after this night.

He hates how he can relate so much to that feeling. It only worsens the pit of guilt in his stomach. He wishes he could just leave, but he knows he can’t.

He can scarcely believe that Altair just wanted him to just- be there? To what, cuddle in his bedroll and fall asleep together? He hasn’t done that in centuries, nevertheless with someone else.

“So you just want me to…” he makes a vague hand motion, “to just be here?”

“If you want.” Altair sputters out, a nervous panic seeping into his voice, “I just- I don't want to be alone, I still feel like she's there, and I'm- I’m scared, Astarion.”

It takes a great deal of effort to admit this to him, and Altair feels so vulnerable. Fuck, he's so, so scared, scared of Astarion saying no, scared that the moment he takes his eyes off of him that he's going to disappear, and that the next time he sees him, all that's left is a mangled corpse.

He’s scared that the man he’s starting to love is going to disappear, and leave him all alone with his feelings for him.

“I’ll.. of course I’ll stay, if you're scared. I did promise, after all.”

Altair shakily laughs, glad that Astarion didn't reject him. Moving to his bedroll, he motions for Astarion to join him, and he obliges, laying down beside him.

“Can we cuddle?”

“You don't have to ask, darling.”

“I know.” The drow turns on his side, burying his face in Astarion’s neck.

“Sappy.”

Astarion’s fingers thread through his white locks, messing with the long strands. It really was sweet of him, and he comes to the dreadful realization that Altair is slowly becoming more to him than just protection.

He wants to ask more about Altair’s past, who was this woman he was so afraid of? Was she really so strong that she’d kill the whole party in one fell swoop? Is she someone who’d torture him, for the sole fact that Altair cares about him?

Shit, he’d almost forgotten about that.

He's still a bit in denial about it, the fact that Altair cares for him, and that he might also care for him back. But he knows that he would never do this much for anyone else, gods, cuddling in the night? Sharing gentle touches while patching each other up and longing glances between battles? He knows that Altair is so much more than just protection.

He knows that he has to reveal his true intentions to him, but whatever confession he has dies on his tongue. The half-drow is sound asleep in his arms, softly snoring into his chest. His heartbeat calm as he buries himself further into the fabric of his shirt.

Astarion knows that he has to confess his real intentions to Altair eventually, but it could wait a little longer. He could wait a little longer to reveal how horrible of a person he was, how he was no different from Altair’s tormentor.

“Good night, love.”

It could wait.

[svltzmans]

nsfw hope headcanons? 🫢

hope mikaelson x fem! reader ńsfw headcanons <3

a/n: omg hi! this is my first request like this so i'm sorry if it sucks 😭 i feel like i made this way kinkier than it had to be but hey this is tumblr right? thanks for the request darling

disclaimer: any writing i do for any character, nsfw or not, takes place when they are 18 or older

warnings: EXPLICIT content ahead, 18+ only pleasseeee. slight degradation, use of the word "slut", etc.

hope is a major tease, in every sense of the word

she gets off on driving you crazy in every way she can

purposefully wearing clothes that extenuate her body in front of you

bending over near you as much as she can

lingering touches

whispering in your ear

you know, the works

she also would definitely do this in public too

(discretely of course)

when you're out with her and your friends she'll innocently sit on your lap

but she'll be moving her hips juuuust enough so you can feel it

hope picked up some french when she was visiting new orleans and she likes to use it to her advantage

and by to her advantage, i mean she uses it for dirty talk of course

y'all will just be out shopping or doing whatever and she'll lean in close to you and whisper

tu as l'air si chaud, j'ai hâte de rentrer.

vous êtes tous à moi, non?

je veux enlever ces vêtements.

but she doesn't stop teasing after foreplay bc that would just be unlike her!

hope is definitely the type to touch you for hours and hours

and the only times she stops are the times that you're close

she just keeps you on edge for as long as she can and listens to you beg

bc she loves that

her favorite is when you say her name all out of breath

"h- h-ope... please..."

yeah she loves that

eventually she takes her hand out of your underwear

and before you can even start begging for her to put it back,

she's between your legs, working on making you naked from the waist down

hope is obsessed with eating you out

obsessed is an understatement actually

any opportunity she has to put her mouth on you, she will

and she is insanely good at it

she had no experience before she started dating you, so it came to her naturally

(no pun intended)

she brings you to orgasm at an almost ridiculous pace

she's just that good that it never takes longer than a few minutes

especially after she's kept you on edge for so long

hope is such a sweet talker in bed

but at the same time she is so filthy

she'll go from "you're so beautiful baby girl"

to "you gonna cum for me again huh? that's it, fucking slut"

she's only really that vulgar sometimes but when she is... she gets intense

but she's not always so dominant

she's actually the definition of a switch

she would like for you to just have your way with her sometimes

touching her in any way you want (with pre-established consent of course)

she is definitely loud when you do

she has the most beautiful moans and whimpers

and she LOVES to praise

"fuck y/n... that feels so good"

"you're doing so well baby"

and of course you give her a taste of her own medicine and leave her begging too

"y/n please don't stop, i'm so close"

and you would stop ofc

THIS IS SO MUCH LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE Y'ALL I GOT IN MY THOUGHTS

[coryothesub]

Best Friend

Y’all wanted this so here it comes (no pun intended), my first attempt at writing snowjanus, this is very much nsfw, but there’s no strong dom/sub dynamics going on because poor baby Sej already has a lot to take in during this lovely throuple encounter

nsfw / mdni

“Hi, I’m Sejanus,” a pretty doe-eyed boy extended his hand for a handshake. “You can call me Sej.”

“I know, darling,” you made a little laugh and shook his hand. “Coryo keeps bringing you up the entire time.”

“No, I don't,” Coryo rolled his eyes, standing next to you.

“I don't know, Coryo, my memory says otherwise,” you glanced at him and then turned back to Sej. “He’s just being a little shy about expressing his feelings.”

“He sure is…” Sej smiled at you adorably.

There was surely something happening between those two, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. You thought that maybe meeting the famous best friend would help you figure it out. That's why you immediately agreed when Coryo had asked you to help Sejanus with his classical logic assignment. Coryo knew you’d had that class at the university, but he had surely forgotten you telling him that it felt like floating through a nightmare universe where you understood nothing. However you couldn't miss the opportunity of meeting Sejanus even if that meant making him a bit disappointed.

Sejanus was sitting at your kitchen table sipping black tea you had made for him. Although he wasn't your usual type, you had to admit he was very handsome. He looked strong and athletic, small dark curls surrounding his pretty facial features, softer than Coryo's, with lovely plump lips and the prettiest bamby eyes you’d ever seen.

His gray turtleneck and rectangle glasses gave him a very proper, almost nerdy look. He had an air of a sweet gentleman, mommy's little angel. You couldn't help thinking about how nice it would feel corrupting him. And probably so easy. Maybe it would help you figure out his thing with Coryo if you involved him in one of your fun little games…

Coryo seemed to suspect what you were planning, refusing to leave your side if only for a moment. You could literally feel him standing behind you as you were about to deliver the disappointing news to his friend.

“I'm sorry, Sej,” you pouted, pretending to be scrolling through the notes on his laptop, then leaning closer to him, resting your hands on the arms of his chair for support. “I’m afraid I won't be able to help you with this.”

Sejanus swallowed thickly and put the tea cup on the saucer with a loud clink. You noticed him trying not to look at your cleavage and failing miserably. You had made sure to wear a top that didn't leave too much for the imagination and he kept shooting secret glances at your breasts since the moment he arrived. He probably thought you didn't notice and you just let it slide. Unlike Coryo.

Still standing behind you, he pressed his palm to your thigh as if he was trying to remind you HE was your main baby boy. You knew that. But best friends share things, right?

You looked deeply into Sejanus's eyes. “I was wondering… Maybe I could help you with something else.”

Red blush filled the boy's cheeks.

“I thought… You and Coryo were…” he looked adorably confused.

“Oh, he won't mind. Right, Coryo?” you glanced over your shoulder.

Coryo nodded faintly. You knew he was jealous. But his hand traveling up your thigh and pushing up the hem of your skirt signaled he was also very intrigued about what was gonna happen next.

You caressed along Sejanus's sharp jawline gently.

“Can I kiss you, Sej?”

“Y-yes…” the boy stuttered, eyes wide with surprise.

You leaned closer and pressed your mouth to his deliciously parted lips in a gentle kiss. He seemed hesitant at first but after a few seconds he was kissing you back with subtle soft passion. It felt different from the hungry and desperate kisses you used to exchange with Coryo.

You could hear Coryo's breath speeding up, his heart was probably pounding in his chest. He started to realize that while you were busy with his friend, you wouldn't pay that much attention to his discipline. He could touch you wherever he wanted, however he wanted without any consequences. It made his blood rush to his cock.

Soon enough Coryo's fingers found the warm spot between your legs and started rubbing it through the white cotton panties. You moaned against Sej's lips.

“See? I told you Coryo's gonna enjoy it!”

Sejanus didn't know whether it was proper to look at Coryo attending to your pussy, but the sight was way too arousing to look away. You looked down and noticed his hardening cock pressing against the thin fabric of his beige pants. 

His body language signaled he was flustered after realizing it was too late to try and hide it. But you were sure you knew how to help him relax.

“May I help you with that?” you asked softly, receiving a little nod in return.

You put your hand on his lap and started palming him through his pants, a sweet little moan escaped from his lips. 

Meanwhile Coryo's movements sped up and the warm wetness leaking from your center soon soaked through your panties, leaving a wet spot on the soft fabric. Coryo smirked and pulled them down dipping his fingers in your liquids and using them to lube up your pussy. He moved closer and you felt his impressive hard-on pressing against your derriere. 

Seeing how strained Sej’s cock felt within the confines of his pants you asked him to stand up and unzip himself.

He shot a pleading glance at Coryo looking for his approval. You just couldn't believe his adorableness.

Coryo looked back at Sej, his bright eyes suddenly seemed dark and full of lust. He looked at you both hungrily waiting for you to put up the best show for him. It was too late to stop.

Sejanus unzipped his pants and let his cock spring free. It was thick and handsome. You felt saliva pooling up in your mouth from the sight alone. You gave it a few strokes and let your tongue play around the tip. After a little teasing you slowly took him in your mouth continuing to stroke him at the base. Sejanus let out a sharp breath and gently ran his fingers through your hair as if he was testing how far he was allowed to go touching you before pissing out his friend. 

You peaked up at Sej’s face although you already knew he wasn't looking at you. The boy just couldn't take his eyes off Coryo who's cheeks were tinted with sinful blush. He felt like he was watching something dirty and salacious but he just couldn't help his arousal.

You felt Coryo's tip teasing your entrance. He couldn't wait long before pushing himself inside you. You felt shivers down your spine as his impressive length filled you up more and more with each thrust.

You let out a muffled grunt, mouth impossibly full with Sej’s cock. Coryo's length was usually a challenge for your throat but Sej's girth made your jaw ache as if you were trying to handle a piece of sticky fudge. You could say they were the perfect contrast.

You were bobbing your head up and down, cheeks hollowed as you were taking more and more of his length until the tip of your nose made contact with the patch of dark curls on his pubic bone making you gag.

“Oh sweet jesus, this feels so good, you're a true goddess!” Sejanus moaned, digging his fingers deeper into your hair until your neat bun turned into a shaggy mess. Of course he was the type of guy calling out the names of saints during sex. 

You would smirk if his dick wasn't all the way down your throat. At least he had found a moment to finally turn his eyes away from his best friend and acknowledge your effort.

“She's taking such good care of us, isn't that right Sej?” Coryo hummed, pounding into your pussy with full force, making your knees feel weak.

“So good…” Sej repeated through moans and pants.

“You both are filling me up so nicely. My perfect, beautiful boys,” you cooed blissfully making sure you didn't let the “babyboy” slip. Not yet. That would be too much for Sejanus’s first adventure.

Coryo's thrusts were hard and almost desperate fighting between the wish for you to be his only mommy and him your only babyboy and his newfound love for watching you play with his friend's cock. You looked so incredibly sexy swallowing around his thick member trying not to gag, while Coryo was pounding you from behind.

You felt the familiar feeling of your climax approaching, barely able to stand on your feet as your legs were shaking uncontrollably. You grabbed onto the arms of Sej’s chair for dear life feeling your pussy clenching around Coryo's cock so deliciously.

“Do you want to cum in my mouth, darling?” you looked up at Sejanus batting your eyelashes while catching a short breath just before the grand finale. You looked so fucked out and pretty.

The sight of you talking to Sejanus in a gentle voice while his pretty cock was waiting to disappear back between your lips still wet with your saliva sent Coryo over the edge immediately.

Sejanu’s eyes were glued to his friend's beautiful face, watching him as he was chasing his release, eyes closed, stray curls falling on his forehead. There was something almost angelic about him as was falling apart cumming inside you. You felt your pussy getting filled with warm semen just as you came all over Coryo's dick making squelching sounds while Coryo kept fucking you through your orgasm.

It took only a few seconds of you sucking Sejanus’s dick with your whole heart and soul until he came hard in your mouth filling it with a thick load of cum. 

Coryo watched his friend coming undone, his eyes rolling back and a million praises coming out of his mouth. He couldn't remember the last time he found Sej so hot. Or maybe he really saw it for the first time. 

You sucked Sej through his orgasm intentionally sloppy to keep the precious pearly drops on your lips. 

“Do you want to kiss me, angel?” you turned to Coryo who still seemed to be processing the gorgeous sight he had just witnessed.

Coryo skipped an answer instead grabbing you by the back of your neck and kissing your cum drunk mouth with passion. He always loved the taste of your lips and even more than that he loved Sej’s taste on them.

“Easy, love, you don't want to get in trouble do you?” you decided it was time to remind you who was in charge. 

Sej was already waiting for his turn eager to catch the aftertaste of Coryo's lips mixed with his own cum. It was the closest he could get to kissing Coryo. For now.

But you already knew you were gonna make sure it wouldn't be your last throuple adventure.

[tangledinink]

Chapter Seven of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is out! Just normal teenage boys doing normal teenage things. :) Read it on ao3 or below the cut.

[ prev ]

It had been three days now since they last saw their dad.

On the first night, over and over, everyone kept saying, ‘I’m sure he’ll be home any minute. He’s more than capable of defending himself. He wouldn’t just disappear. Any second now,’ and the only reason that Mikey had been able to get himself to sleep that night was because he thought that maybe when he woke up again, Dad would be back. He wanted to just skip forward to the good part. But then when he woke up, the good part wasn’t there.

The following morning, Mrs. O’Neil was in the kitchen making breakfast, with the blankets all folded up neat on the couch as if she hadn’t slept there that night. April helped set the table, as if this were normal, as if she hadn’t slept on a bean bag in the Lair, as if they were meant to be here and it made sense for them to be carefully preparing for a big pancake breakfast instead of wolfing down bagels and granola bars in a chaotic frenzy, attempting to make it out the door on time.

It wasn’t like Mikey didn’t appreciate it. He did. It was nice, the gentle looks, the backrubs, the hugs… But it felt weird. Alien, almost. And yet, even with things being so starkly different, even with the five of them staying home from school, staying home from activities, in this absolute jarring contrast to their normal routine, at the same time, there were still these moments that felt so… untouched. Leo and April made bad puns when the opportunity arose like they always did. Raph physically picked up and moved them when they were in his way or getting on his nerves, like usual. Donnie took the time to check up on all of his houseplants, watering anyone who needed it. Some memes were sent to the group chat. Leo and Raph got in a fight over the last raspberry popsicle in the freezer. 

There were moments where Mikey could almost look around and pretend like everything was normal. Dad just wasn’t home right now, and that was all. There were all these beats and steps that just weren’t colored by this horrible thing at all, in this weird way that Mikey wasn’t expecting.

But just on the surface level.

Because no. Dad isn’t just out getting groceries or meeting with an agent or picking up takeout. Dad isn’t here. And they don’t know where he is. 

They had already discovered, on that very first night, that Dad’s cell phone was left in his bedroom. They had obviously all tried texting and calling him about eighty times each, with no response, and eventually found the phone, plugged into its charger on his nightstand. They tried guessing the passcode, but none of them knew it, so they had all looked at Donnie. They said that they would figure it out and pocketed the device. And aside from coming down to care for their plants and grab some banana pancakes, they hadn’t been down from their room since.

They spent most of the first day making calls. They contacted everyone that they could think of. Dad’s agent, his lawyers, any friends or acquaintances he knew. They called each and every one of his dojo locations. Anyone whose number they could find who they had ever known to speak with Dad, they contacted, asking them if they had seen him, heard from him, had anyone idea who the masked guy could be? And over and over they heard, no, sorry. We haven’t seen him. We haven’t heard from him. We don’t know anything about this stranger. We’ll keep an eye out and let you know right away if anything changes. Dead end. Dead end. Dead end.

They texted people, they sent emails, they combed the internet for anything that might be helpful, but they didn’t find anything. The whole group, Mrs. O’Neil and even Donnie included (Mrs. O’Neil, I mean, Carol, made them come. Mikey thought that it was probably because they were nervous about anyone being alone after… you know,) took multiple walks around the neighborhood, the neighborhood next over, and the neighborhood next over to that, looking for any sign of their father.

On the second day, Mikey made posters, and they started hanging those up when they did their walks. Word was starting to spread, and Mikey kept getting texts on his phone-- friends from school, friends from dance, friends from sports, friends of friends… At first, Mikey would reply to all of them. Would say, oh, thank you so much for reaching out, we really appreciate it, please, if you see him at all, let us know… But that rapidly became exhausting. After the first ten, Mikey took to just copy-and-pasting the same message asking them to look, along with an image of the poster he had made. And even just that was exhausting. What was he supposed to say? ‘Everything is horrible and I have no idea how I’m feeling right now, I’m just overwhelmed and terrified-- thanks tho, melting face emoji?’

Donnie got into Dad’s phone but didn’t find anything useful. They sent out emails and texts to every contact he had saved, even though they didn’t recognize half of them, and posted on every social media that he had. All four of them posted on their social media, too. Mikey made a TikTok video reaching out to 350k of his followers. He kept all his notifications on, hoping and waiting that someone would message him telling him that they had seen him and he was okay… but it didn’t come. There was a flood of empathetic comments, of thoughts and prayers, of heart emojis. But nothing that would help them. He and his brothers posted on every Lou Jitsu fan forum that they could find, but they got much of the same there, too.

And now it had been three days. Three days was a long, long time. Ever since that first night, Mikey couldn’t really sleep. He knew his siblings couldn’t, either, and he anxiously fussed over them whenever he could, trying to encourage them to get some rest. Especially Leo. He hardly ever slept even on a good day-- now he kind of just seemed more and more like a wreck as time passed. All of them did. 

It was on the third day that Mrs. O'Neil got a phone call. Well-- she had been on the phone on-and-off ever since she got here that first night, making calls and taking them, even more than they had. But this phone call, in particular, went a little like this:

"Hello?" 

"Yes, this is she,"

"What?"

"No, I'm sorry,"

"No."

"Yes, I'm absolutely certain. No. No, we're not accepting any interview requests right now. I'm not sure you do understand. With all due respect, I'm not putting any of these kids on TV right now. Yes, I'm quite sure."

"Yes."

"You have a great day, too. Goodbye."

Mikey knew that all four of his siblings were listening, but Leo was the first one to speak once Carol hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" 

"A reporter," Carol sighed in response. They had barely exchanged five words and she already seemed exhausted with this conversation.

"What did they want?"

Carol pursed her lips. "They were asking about doing a live interview or bringing you guys on their talk show. I told them we weren't interested."

"Why would you tell them that?"

"Because we're not."

"Uhm. Maybe you're not," Leo corrected, his brows furrowing. "Why the hell can't I do an interview? I can do interviews! I've done interviews before! I'm great at interviews."

"It's not a good idea, Leo," Carol said, putting her phone down, turning her attention back to her laptop in front of her, beginning to type again. Oof. That was gonna piss Leo off.

"Why not?!" Leo demanded, growing pissed off. "I've done interviews before! I've done live shows! I could totally handle this! Besides, we're trying to get the word out to as many people as possible. What if someone saw the interview and knew where Dad was? This could help!"

"This isn't up for debate, Leo. I'm not putting any of you kids on a talk show right now."

"Why is it your decision!? I'm the one who would be on the show! Why don't I get to decide?"

"Because I'm the adult," Carol was just a step away from snapping, but her voice was hard, definitive. "I just said this isn't up for debate. I'm sorry, but it's off the table. It's not a good idea."

Mikey looked nervously at his brother, wondering if he should say something. Raph looked like he was about to, but Leo huffed, rolling his eyes and getting to his feet. "Fine," he hissed in reply, promptly moving to the front door and beginning to put on his shoes.

 "Where are you going?" Carol questioned, frowning a bit.

"Gymnastics."

"Leo--"

"I'm sick of sitting around here not doing anything! It's driving me crazy. We have gymnastics practice right now. I'm going to gymnastics. Mikey, are you coming?"

Mikey jumped when eyes shifted to him, floundering for a second. If he was being totally honest, he wasn't exactly in a gymnastics mood, but... he knew that Mrs. O'Neil wasn't gonna let Leo go by himself. And there was no way he was gonna convince Donnie to even leave his room, let alone go to gymnastics practice. Maybe... it would be good? Get his mind off of things?

"Yeah. Uh. I'll come. Let me grab my stuff. Hang on," he said, jumping to his feet and scampering off to grab their gymnastics bags-- packed and ready to go in the hallway, like they always were, like they didn't know anything was wrong. 

"Leo, I don't know if this is--"

"I'm not going alone, Mikey is with me. There's gonna be adults there. We'll get a taxi cab home when it gets dark. I'm not gonna sit here twiddling my thumbs anymore. I'm gonna go insane." Leo spoke over her, and Mikey thought privately to himself that that was rather ballsy. Leo must really be upset because usually none of them would dare interrupt Mrs. O'Neil. He hurried to get his shoes on, hoping that they could escape before things got too heated. Sorry April, sorry Raph. 

"Ready, Mikey?"

"Yeah… yeah, I'm ready. Let's go." 

---

April was trying really hard to be patient with her brothers right now, 'cause she knew that they were having a hard time. I mean, if either of her parents went missing, she'd probably be behaving less than her best, too. Raph was clingier than ever, and April had had to talk him off the metaphorical ledge about five times now, Donnie had turned into a total hermit, even by Donnie standards, Leo was honestly being kind of a brat, and Mikey was...

Ugh. God. Mikey. He was such a sweetheart. He was killing himself, April could tell. Even more than she was killing herself right now. She would have to corner him later. Right after she cornered Leo.

And kicked his ass.

Look, she got where he was coming from, but did he really need to tick her mom off like that!? And then leave her to deal with it?! She knew her mom was mostly just worried, (and, okay, maybe also kind of peeved, but April could only kind of blame her,) but that didn't make it any more pleasant. And once she managed to settle her down, she had to deal with Raph, too. 

 If her mom was freaked out, then Raph was about ready to lose his mind. April half thought he was gonna take off after Leo and Mikey on foot any second now. April sank into the couch next to him, bodily draping herself over his lap to make sure he didn't go anywhere.

"Hey Big Guy," she said, blinking up at him, forcing a half-hearted smile. "How you holding up?"

"Me?" Raph said, just barely glancing down at her before his eyes snapped away again, anxious and flighty. "I'm fine. Raph's fine. How are you holding up?"

God, they were all so predictable. April privately thought that self-sacrifice must be a Hamato tradition. It was simply a question of which one of them could outdo the rest.

"You're a bad liar. You're as bad as Mikey. As bad as Donnie."

"What?!" Raph squawked in protest. "I am not as bad as Donnie! No one's as bad as Donnie!"

"Okay, well, maybe not that bad," April relented. "Leo and Mikey are gonna be fine. They're taking the subway in broad daylight. They're only gonna be, like, ten minutes away. They both had their phones and they already said they'll take a taxi cab home. It's okay."

"I know," Raph said, wrinkling up his nose. "It's just-- I mean. What if somethin' bad happens to 'em? And I'm not there to help?" 

"You know it's not your fault, right?"

There was a telling silence.

"Raph. It's not your job to protect your Dad from creepy stalker fans. And you couldn't have done anything."

"I know," Raph relented, frowning a little. And it wasn't that April didn't believe him, but... There was a difference between knowing and knowing. April knew that perfectly well. Raph might be the biggest brother, but she was the biggest sister, and... okay, she wasn't gonna sit here and delude herself into thinking that she could have physically stopped that guy if she had just moved a little faster. She wasn't a martial arts champion like the rest of them, (even if she did have a mean left hook and an even meaner softball swing.) But she hated... watching them fall apart. She hated watching all of them shrivel up under the stress. She hated that she couldn't fix this for them... Or at least make it a little easier.

And she was worried too. Mr. Hamato might not be her dad, exactly, but... this was her family, too. She had known Yoshi since she was five! She used to spend every afternoon after school at their house, and they would spend the weekends at hers. She couldn't even count how many slumber parties and sleepovers they had had over the years. Raph, Donnie, Leo, and Mikey were like her brothers, and Yoshi was, like... her weird uncle or something.

She really hoped he was okay. And that he'd be back soon.

"Nothing bad is gonna happen. They'll go to gymnastics, they'll blow off some steam, they'll come home, and maybe Leo will be less of a headache for the rest of the evening." She said with a sigh. "Maybe he's got a point! You guys aren't used to being cooped up for so long."

"I guess," Raph said, seeming unconvinced, though he leaned back a little into the cushions, slumping a bit. April would take even the littlest victory. 

"You could probably use a distraction too."

"Mmm..."

"Sooo... You could paint my nails for me? I'll paint yours back." She offered, raising a brow. He had to take the bait here. This always worked. The boys loved getting their nails painted. Especially Raph, since he was so bad at doing his own. He was okay if he was working on someone else, but if it was a solo project, that right hand just never quite turned out right.

It took a moment, and for a moment April thought he might actually turn her down, but eventually, he sighed and relented. "Okay, fine," he agreed. "But Raph gets to pick the colors this time."

Thank god for small miracles. He could pick whatever color he wanted.

---

Mikey had never noticed how loud the gym was before.

Usually, it didn't bother him. But today? It was just... so much noise. Every thump of a landed flip echoing through the padded floor, reverberating, every shout, every stomp, every clap of chalk on hands... It seemed to travel right through his bones.

He was waiting for it to wear off. 

Their instructor had seemed... surprised to see them, especially since they had gotten there a half-hour late, but hadn't protested or turned them away, much to Mikey's relief. Well, initially it had been relief, but now he wasn't so sure. Usually, he adored gymnastics. It was easily one of his favorite hobbies, (tied between ballet, painting, cooking, yoga, hip-hop, and skateboarding,) but there was something... off today. Every movement seemed just a beat behind reality, as if he himself were lagging somehow, like the connection was slow. His head felt fuzzy.

Every second they were here felt so odd. Everyone was just... working. Doing gymnastics. Practicing back-flips and floor routines. Mikey wanted to scream at everyone. How could they all just act like this when their dad was missing? How could they pretend like things were okay and just keep moving through life? Every person they passed on the walk here, every passenger on the subway, the receptionist at the front desk, he wanted to grab them by the front of their shirts and wail to them and explain everything. 

How could people just live? How could so many people just not know that their dad was gone and might not ever come back?

Mikey had been working on his high bar routine for almost forty minutes now, and he still wasn't getting it right. Usually, this was easy. It wasn't even that hard of a routine, not compared to some of the other things he had done before. But every single time he made another go at it, he missed a beat or moved the wrong way, his brain blanking out on the next step, and he'd have to start over again, gritting his teeth and telling himself he'd get it right this time. The chalk on his hands itched. He was forming a blister. Blisters had never bothered him before.

His coach was being so patient. So sweet, repeatedly telling him it was okay, he could just try again, but it wasn't okay. He wanted to yell at her, too, that they both knew he could do better than this. But he didn't. He just thanked her and nodded his head and kept going.

Leo was over at the vault. He could see him from here. From what he could see, he was doing fine. He wasn't missing any turns or freezing up or losing his balance. He was doing great. His routine looked perfect. Why was he doing so perfect? What was wrong with him? If the problem wasn't Dad, if it wasn't affecting Leo, then it had to be--

Mikey's hand missed the bar. He never missed the bar. He didn't swing far enough and his hand didn't make contact. 

He missed. He fell.

He never fell.

It didn't hurt. They had all this matting for a reason-- for exactly this reason, in fact. There wasn't even any heavy thud of contact, no wind got knocked out of him, he just flopped sadly down on his back on the padding, bouncing a tiny bit, staring up at the bars above him.

He fell down. He never fell down. He missed. He never missed the bars. 

He knew he needed to get up. He should try again. If he didn't move, people would worry, or think he was hurt or something. But every time he told himself to sit up, his body didn't quite listen. 

After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, his older brother's face came into view. He had been expecting a coach. He wasn't sure if Leo was better or worse.

"Well that wasn't very razzmatazz," Leo remarked with a grin, leaning over and offering a hand to the other. "Here, c'mon. I'll help you up."

Mikey sniffled a tiny bit. His body didn't listen when he told it to grab Leo's hand, either.

"I wanna go home," he finally got his mouth to move.

"What?" Leo immediately protested. "Oh, come on, little brother, we just got here. We've still got two hours left of gym time! You love gymnastics. You're not gonna let one little fall get to you, are ya?"

"I wanna go home," Mikey repeated, because he didn't know what else to say. His voice sounded horrible. What was the matter with him? This wasn’t even what he wanted to be saying. He didn't want to talk to Leo like this. He did love gymnastics. This wasn't him! He didn't act this way. Why was he acting this way? He blinked rapidly, hoping that it would help somehow.

He didn't want to look at Leo anymore, so he didn't. But he heard him sigh. He felt the gym mat shift as Leo slowly moved to lay down next to him, until both of them were staring up at the ceiling like silly little animals stuck on their backs, unable to flip back over.

Like...

I dunno, like beetles or something.

"We can go home if you want to, Mikey," Leo said, and Mikey hiccuped softly, wrinkling up his nose.

"Sorry," he bit out. "... We c-can stay if you want. I can stay."

"Nah. It's fine. We should go home," Leo repeated, finding Mikey’s hand and squeezing it shortly. "Sorry. For dragging you out."

Mikey shook his head, sniffling a bit. Ugh, crying on your back sucked. His nose was all full of gunk. 

"I like gymnastics," he said weakly, and Leo laughed.

"Yeah, I know. That's 'cause you're really good at it."

Mikey nodded kind of numbly, crossing his arms over his chest, clinging to himself slightly. 

"Everyone is acting like nothing's wrong," Mikey whispered.

"Yeah," Leo sighed through his nose. "It's weird, right? I keep seeing people on the street and being like... Oh my god. They don't even know. They have no idea. And, like, I don't even know what's going on with them, either. Like. You know that lady we sat next to on the subway? I kept thinking, I dunno, maybe her dad went missing once, too, and we don't even know. How much shit do we just not know?"

"Leo, what if he doesn't come back?"

It wasn't like Leo was bad at hugs. It's just that he wasn't as good at hugs as everyone else. There was a very clear ranking, and yes, Mikey did keep track, like a reasonable person. At the very top of the ranking, obviously, was Raph. Raph gave the best hugs-- He scooped you up and swung you around and you got all squished and squeezed in the best way possible. Absolutely top-tier. Second best hugs were Dad, because, well, they were Dad Hugs. Dad Hugs had a special quality to them. He really didn't think he had to explain himself any further. Next up was Donnie, not necessarily because Donnie was good at hugging or anything, but just because he was so rarely down for hugs that every time he got one it was special. It felt like he was winning something-- especially since he got Donnie hugs more than anyone else in the family. April hugs were next, because while she gave really good hugs, and she always let him cling to her for as long as he wanted, her glasses could be a bit pokey at times. And then Leo brought in the rear-- not because he was bad at them, but just because the competition was so stiff.

But this was a really, really good hug. Two really's.

The absolute second Leo had him wrapped up in his arms, Mikey just dissolved into sobs, before he even had a proper chance to try not to. He was just so tired of feeling scared like this. If Dad wasn't going to come back, could they just know already?! He hated waiting. He hated not knowing! He just wanted to tear the band-aid off so that he could mourn and then get better. This was worse than their Dad being dead, he thought to himself. He almost wished that he was just dead, and that this could at least be over. Wasn't that horrible...? How could he feel that way?

 He was pretty sure Leo was crying, too, but he couldn't really tell for sure. He was clinging way too tight to see anything. 

"It'll be alright, Mikey." Leo's voice was muffled, but he could hear him all the same. "We'll be okay. Dad would never stay away from us on purpose. We'll figure it out."

---

They had been getting a lot of takeout since Dad went missing. No one really felt like cooking-- not even Mikey, and Leo couldn't even blame him. He wouldn't wanna cook, either. He barely even wanted to eat. And there was pizza in front of him. That was a big deal.

 This was their third Jupiter Jim movie marathon night in a row, but Leo wasn't the least bit excited. He was trying hard to pretend like he cared about which title they put on, to keep up with all the running jokes they had, to pay attention, but his heart wasn't in it. No one else's was, either, he knew. They hadn't even been able to convince Donnie to come out of his room and join them since the first night, much to his frustration.

 It was all just distraction. They were just smoke-screening themselves to pretend like everything wasn't awful, and frankly, Leo wasn't even sure who it was benefitting anymore. Clearly not Mikey. He had gotten it back together by the time they started heading home from gymnastics and had made Leo swear to secrecy, insisting that he 'didn't wanna worry anyone.' Leo had told him that that was stupid, that everyone was already worrying anyway, and pretending like he was fine wasn't gonna make a difference, but if he was being honest, he and the rest of the family rarely won any arguments against Mikey, so... 'keep it between them' it was. 

It was stupid. He wasn't fooling anyone. None of them were. 

And yet here he was, playing pretend right along with them anyway. He was such an idiot. 

As was rapidly becoming routine, they all stayed up long enough to watch three Jupiter Jim movies while eating whatever dinner had been ordered that night before everyone headed off to bed, saying keywords and phrases like 'I dunno about you guys, but I’m exhausted' and 'it’s getting pretty late,' etc etc, even though Leo was pretty sure no one was sleeping. He certainly wasn't. And he was really trying. He swore he was, but... 

Even under the best of circumstances, sleeping was hard. He had never understood how Dad or Mikey could just fall asleep the way they did, laying their heads down on their pillows and almost instantly drifting off. Sleeping involved so much work, so much effort, that sometimes it just felt easier to call the night a wash, take the all-nighter and go from there. Yes, he had tried meditating. Yes, he had tried Melatonin. He had tried sleep podcasts, white noise machines, drugs, music-- he swore he had tried it all! And none of it fixed the problem. Some of it helped, sure, but nothing consistently guaranteed him a full night's rest. Every night it was just a roll of the dice; a total blind bag. Some nights, he would sleep, and some nights, he wouldn't. It was anyone's guess.

Including his.

He wouldn't have put money on going to sleep that night. But he did.

He had no idea what made him realize that he was dreaming, but at some point, he did. He couldn't even tell you what had been happening before that point, because now, he didn't remember. Had he been outside? It had been cold. It had been dark, and there was water nearby, but he didn't think he had been outside. Somewhere else, but... He wasn't sure where.

But now, he was in their house. Right in their living room. Leo frowned a bit, looking around slowly. It was odd for their house to be this quiet. 

He paused, looking at the family pictures hanging on the walls in abundance. Someone had written something on them in black marker, but he couldn't read it. It was in plain English, but he had no idea what it said. He leaned in a bit closer, narrowing his eyes, trying to translate, when a cry ripped his attention away.

"Blue!"

He knew that voice. Eyes widening, Leo whipped around to face his father-- on the ground not more than five feet away, pinned beneath some hulking stranger with jagged horns erupting from their head, their eyes glowing white and their jaws dripping with foamy blood.

"Dad?! Hang on!" He tried to jump forward, to reach out for him, but his legs wouldn't move. Why wouldn't his legs move?! His dad was right there-- right there in front of him! He could help him! He could save him, so why wasn't anything working?!

"Blue!" The same howl tore through his mind, and Leo hissed, clapping his hands over his ears as if that would help. He didn't want to watch. He didn't want to watch this creature kill his father-- he couldn't do it. 

This is a dream, he reminded himself. You're dreaming. If you don’t want to watch, then you have to wake up. Wake up. Wake up now!

He could see it-- almost feel it-- his own body laid out on his bed back in the waking world, curled up on his stomach, his cheek to his pillow. He knew exactly where he was. He could see his room. He knew he was dreaming, so why couldn't he wake up? He couldn't get his body to move at all, repeatedly trying to sit up, to open his eyes, to jolt a limb to the side to no avail. The pitch of the screams shifted higher.

"Come on! Wake up already! I know you can hear me!" He cried, gritting his teeth. He knocked his fists angrily against the side of his head. "Move. We have to move!" He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, tasting blood, and he wasn't sure if that was his dream self or his actual self. How was he supposed to tell the difference? "Move!"

Leo startled awake, his head jerking upwards and his limbs splaying outward in surprise. The entire house was quiet. Right... because it's the middle of the night. Because he was dreaming.

He had just been dreaming, and now he was awake. It was fine. He was fine.

Slowly, he sat up, running his hands through his hair with a sigh, rolling his head a few times to try to work the stiffness of his neck. He reached for his phone, knowing it would be plugged in on his nightstand, except... It wasn't there. 

 Leo frowned a little bit, wrinkling up his brows. His phone wasn't there. In fact, his nightstand wasn't there either. His bed wasn't even there, he realized with a start. He wasn't in his own room. He was on the floor-- the floor of-- somewhere else in the house, he guessed. How the hell did he get here? Had he sleepwalked? That was new.

 He noted, vaguely, that whatever room he was in wasn't nearly as dark as he would have expected. There was this warm golden-orange glow blanketing the room like a nightlight, and Leo thought vaguely that someone must have accidentally left a desk lamp on or something, turning to take a look.

He had not been expecting to see his youngest brother floating half a foot above his own bed. Nor for him to be glowing.

[aching-tummies]

Onion Rings RP reaponse. I'd provide the kneading-hands on your upset tummy. Definitely a "hurt it" kind of kneading too. Firm, deep kneads. I'd use my knuckles a lot, pressing deep and dragging 'em like a baker does when they wanna drag the dough against the counter. Also can't forget the "punch down" action ^^ the bloated dome gets the fist. I'm going to cause that tummy ache to bloom and enjoy your tum's grumbles and making you moan and whine and maybe burp, or more likely vomit.

This gem has been sitting in my inbox since 2021. I'm so sorry to the person that sent this because this ask is gold and I've written and scrapped over a dozen responses to it because none of them felt quite right. All the onion rings puns in this ask kind of derailed me so many times and I love them. I wonder of the “bloom” one is in reference to a “bloomin' onion”--a form of “onion ring”/deep fried onion? Whether that was intentional or not, it was perfect and has made me smile countless times since I received this ask. Thank you!

Response to this post.

I whine as yet another potential sickly belch is denied to me. My tummy grumbles unhappily, continuing to inflate with the sickly gas being produced by the greasy, messy digestion of my unhealthy snack. The drive-thru you stopped by in the way home got your order wrong and gave you onion rings instead of the fries you had asked for. Unfortunately for you, you didn't check the bag before driving home and once back home you weren't going to leave over some fries. Luckily for me, I love onion rings...or at least, I did. I love the idea of onion rings—when they're outside of me and about to be consumed. Once they're conspiring to give me a nasty, greasy case of indigestion I like them a lot less.

That's what brings us to this moment. You scarfed your burger and pawned off the onion rings and half of your Mountain Dew to me in favour of hopping into the shower. I ate the side of onion rings and downed the Dew before it had a chance to go flat. The sickly green colour of the Dew should have been warning enough not to drink it. My poor tummy feels volatile, like it's filled with radioactive sludge rather than the greasy, carbonated mess it's churning around.

“My my, what's this?”

I almost jump out of my skin at your voice in my ear. You rest your chin on my shoulder, hands sliding under my shirt to palm at my rapidly bloating belly.

“Nnngh...oww...t-tummy's...j-just a bit upset.” I murmur, still struggling to try and expel some of the gas festering in my poor belly.

You dig your palm into my gut above my navel, dragging it slowly and firmly to the left with your fingers curled to make a bit of a fist. The bumps of your knuckles knead deeply into my upset gut.

“Oh! Oooh....nnnngh...*urp*” I startle at the sudden pressure of your palm on the centre of my gut and can't help but moan at the dragging kneading.

You continue this motion, altering hands and falling into a steady rhythm. It hurts, but with each 'punch' to the centre of my belly I get the opportunity to let out a pitifully small belch. It's not much, but I can only hope that it's gradually reducing the pressure in my achy belly. The carbonation in the Dew and the greasy onion rings were conspiring to wreck my sensitive belly. Already, the stretch from my stomach bloating up with the products of indigestion is pretty uncomfortable.

We stay in that position for a few minutes. Your kneading massage gradually slows. The thudding impact of your palm starting in the centre of my belly stops, replaced by both of your hands cupping at the sides of my bloated belly and squeezing. I've got a relatively trim tummy, but the indigestion and uncomfortable bloating has caused it to dome slightly. I'd think it was cute in a miniature-basketball sort of way if it didn't come with feeling so utterly sick to my stomach.

“Nnnngh...s-so upset...oooh...h-hurts!” I groan and whine, squirming in your hold as you torment my belly. My mutterings end in a frantic exclamation as I twist in your hold. Your hands had found a particularly sore spot in my belly and kneaded firmly. “Ooof...oww...s-sorry...oww...nnngh...it really, really hurts right now. C'n...C'n we slow down a bit? G-Gentle? Oooh...m-my tummy *really, really hurts!”

You grin at my protests, arms coming back to loop around my waist as you guide us to the couch. The tea I'd been in the process of making sits, forgotten, on the counter. Pity, I'd been preparing it in hopes that it'd settle my stomach. It's an intentional move on your part. Settling my stomach will come, eventually. Throughout your shower, thoughts of a stomach ache in full bloom went through your head. You didn't dare to hope that the small side of onion rings and half a drink would create issues in my tummy, but upon stepping out to the sight of me pressing my tummy into the counter sealed it for you. The indigestion will quell, eventually, it'll run it's course probably quicker than it would if left untouched—a byproduct of getting to manhandle my guts to your heart's desire and see the limits of 'tummy ache' that you can inflict on it.

[hitomisuzuya]

Heya ! I saw that your requests were open so here I am. Imagine one of the sumeru boys (whoever you want) playing strip TCG with fem!reader 👀

a/n: I could only think of Cyno doing this 😌 I've been meaning to write something with playing strip TCG lol. Thank you for requesting. My requests are always open.

Cyno x fem!reader. Slightly smutty but it's more like foreplay than anything. I'm still getting the feel of writing Cyno. Bad Cyno pun at the end.

Cyno took his time waiting for an opportunity to tell you how he felt about you. He didn't want to tell you in an ordinary way. Oh no, he was going to creative with it.

His suggestion to play Genius Invokation TCG inside abandoned ruin had surprised you. What surprised you even more he'd suggested playing strip TCG. You had no idea he even entertained thoughts of seeing you naked.

It made your heart pound the whole time. You'd barely been able to concentrate as you got your deck ready. Oh, and one more thing: he'd purposely reshuffled your deck early this morning before he asked, making sure your weakest cards were right on top.

Cyno had always been a pro at Genius Invokation TCG, he really didn't need to go that far to insure his victory. "Damage has been dealt, y/n, you know the rules," Cyno said, watching you with concealed anticipation. You were down to the last card on your team, all your support cards were used up. He cheeks tinged a light crimson as you started to take off your bra.

Only your panties were left now. "I concede. This would've been my last move, anyways. I know when I've been beat." You were starting to feel shy now.

Cyno was transfixed on your chest. "I'm have to admit, I'm a little disappointed," He said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you replied, standing up to start putting your clothes back on. Cyno had to hear your heart pounding in your chest. "That's life though, I suppose."

Standing up, he sighed when you bent over to pick up your bra. It was now or never. "Y/n, wait..can I finish the rest. Taking off your clothes, I mean?"

You were so surprised that your body moved on it's own. Your lips crashed against his in an deep eager kiss. Cyno wrapped his arms around you, hooking one of your legs over his hip as he pinned you against the wall. His tongue explored your mouth, making you moan.

"Before I ruin you, I want to tell you I'm going to make you so happy," Cyno pulled away long enough to tell you. Reaching down, his hand dipped into your panties, rubbing your clit. He was being serious.

You were going to be on the arm of the General Mahamatra now. You deserved it.

[skylarinfinity]

bruce : sorry about leaving you waiting [him and cho start checking on male reader injury]

male reader : no problem, i'm patient [laughing at his own pun]

cho : [snort] you set him a great opportunity to use the pun there, bruce.

bruce : [sigh and put his stethoscope aside] i'm done [walk out the infirmary]

clint : [laying down on the beside male reader] that's a good one, male reader... i would laugh if i'm not hurt right know.

tags lists @sonicqaulan @graysonfriggason @thebettermaximofftwins @sloanalistair @acienthazard @starlinggoldeneyes @ortegaolsen @wednesdaywanda @sandwichmarvel @gardenofmarvel @wanda-cabin-natasha-jacket @panandinpain0 @badblondebisexualboy @loving-wanda-in-every-universe

[smilingangel582]

It's super late, and I wanna write something short and cute for Wriothesley and Lyney.

Short and cute hehe enjoyy

Spoilers for fontaine warning...

It's T time

Again, the Duke invited him for tea. It's nothing hostile since hd understands Wriothesley's true intentions better and his kindness in looking after Lynette and Freminet.

Although... tea time is somewhat a common habit Wriothesley has and always insists Lyney to entertain him with a card trick or small talk.

"My, Mr. Lyney it feels like yesterday that you almost fought me" The Duke chuckles and Lyney sighs placing tea back, he can't drink hot things after all like Lynette he's got a worse of a cats tongue.

"Hehe I suppose... but I must apologise for my rudeness" Lyney offers and the Duke stares for a moment hand under his jaw and his elbow leaning on the office desk.

"What?" A startled Lyney asked.

"Oh it's just you seem so different when u r sincere and guilty... its cute"

Blushing furiously he frowns a bit "Now sir please don't tease me, I'm a magician after all with status"

"Right right sorry, I see... but mind showing me a trick?"

Another one? Lyney sigh, but smiles fondly as he takes his card pack out "Well alright your grace..."

Shuffling the cards he seems concentrated and he didn't even realise Wriothesley slowly leaning closer to peak at him, his breath immediately hits Lyney's ear making hom gasp and almost mess up his cards.

"Ooh that scared ya? Sorry,"

"N-no... its well," he stops shortly unable to form a sentence but continues tk shuffle again.

Curious Wriothesley again blows at his ear sending goosebumps down his neck and ghe Duke grins in realisation.

"Oh I see, a bit ticklish perhaps Mr. Lyney?"

"N-no... absurd, " lyney lies, instantly defending himself. The big man slowly puts his around Lyney's shoulder, smirking now "Oh? How about this? Tickles...?" He slides a finger up his side and Lyney squirms but doesn't let a sound and keeps fumbling with his cards.

"No...?" Wriothesley now pinches his waist, making him squeak but remain firm and enjoying that reaction he crawls his fingers higher.

"Oh you are close to cracking up magician"

Since when did the Duke get teasy and touchy? Lyney thought with consideration. He flinched and bites a giggle however a prod at his top ribs snaking close above makes him guffaw.

Wriothesley connecting the dots instantly teases. "Ahh? What is this... did I find your spot, Mr. Lyney?" He snakes further under his armpits, and Lyney giggles now, breaking into a nonstop squirming session hugging his sides."Nohohoho!"

"Gotcha... to think the spot is so exposed?" Wriothesley wiggles further into his armpits now Lyney puts his cards away giggling more "Heheheeey nohohot thahahat! Whahahat thehehe heheheck??"

"Well, you are so cute. I couldn't resist it, dear Mr Lyney"

"Stahahaaap teheaheeeasing hehahaha!" He squeals now and Wriothesley stops instantly patting his shoulder with a friendly truce gesture.

"Apologise you could use a t-time with me after all" the taller guy shrugged and that's when the pun was clearer to him. Lyney snorts instantly with laughter not from the tickling... "Gehehehe whahahat wahahas thahahat lahahame puhuhun!" He holds his sides as he laughed and Wriothesley smirks mischievously "Carefyl Mr. Lyney or you might be in trouble for round two"

"Slowly stopping his giggles, he nods, hiccuping giggles, and the Duke finds it endearing. After all, the t time is something special, even for lyney. It's it's a rare opportunity to have someone as interesting as Lyney.

[emilykaldwen]

I think you created an incredibly vanilla OC who is the embodiment of the maiden and saviour of Aegon. She is like virginal, Madonna like. She is the bunny girl. Then you just whack edgy concepts on her like the whole blowjob thing. Like fr blowing is something you need to gain by experience or being told logistics of. I hardly think someone like Abby would know what to do technically wise. You made it seem like she was an expert. Which is so unrealistic man. And it gets messy too but your interpretations is weirdly sanitary

Like we can have character development and nuance but you don't know the meaning of the word. We have a pure maiden never been carnally touched but somehow she can naturally give pornstar level bjs. Get real Nat

Hey anon! Thank you for showing that you're either one of my [few] followers or have my blog open in a tab or something because I was just thinking about you when I reblogged that Tom Hardy Picture 11 minutes before you sent me this. Hello! How are you?

I'm putting this behind a cut to both save the dash and spoilers for the fic in general I guess? Thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about my character and the themes I'm exploring in my story!

Do not come in here and tell me I don't know the meaning of character development and nuance (and don't fucking call me Nat, which only my friends call me, you do not have the right to it), when it's abundantly clear you don't have an ioata of reading comprehension given that in the chapter you're throwing a fit about, you failed to read Aegon specifically thinking how Abby's not great but she's at least enthusiastic, and he is giving her some guidance, but do you really need a word-for-word break down of it? I mean I'll keep it in mind but Aegon's not thinking 'wow my fiancee is super bad at this', like my dude thinks about how Cassandra Baratheon is better at this.

But it also is abundantly clear that this is the only chapter you've read because we have because they're physically intimate in both Chapters 8 and 15, which build up Abby's confidence in being an active participant.

We see in their first encounter together that Aegon's absolutely taking the lead, but Abby does reach for him. She does want to touch him. He comes upon her touching herself and thinking about him. Because this isn't regency or victorian England. They do know about sex, there are dozens of horny Valyrian frescoes around the red keep, and while the Seven frowns down upon it, people are still getting down out of wedlock, they are exploring themselves, and I'm not sorry about touching upon that. When Aegon gets her off in Chapter Eight, Abby also touches him in return. She's curious! She wants to touch him! She's full of horny good hormones! And seeing him taste her off his fingers, she hesitantly gives him a taste as well. And frankly, by the time we've gotten to this most recent chapter, Aegon's been teaching her how to give a good handjob for like, a month.

Yes, you are right in that Abby is meant to represent those things. That's why the story is called The MAIDEN and the Drowning Boy. Because this is an ideal being forced upon her in so many different directions. So, AGAIN, it's abundantly clear to me that you have not read any of the other chapters because we have in IN CHAPTER ELEVEN AND THIRTEEN TALKS ABOUT THIS:

The entire point of this first arc and Aegon and Abby going through what they do (also referenced in their fight in Chapter Eleven.

Also, again, I'm coming back to keep your purity culture bullshit out of my inbox. Stop thinking that a virgin means uwu innocent doesn't know anything baby. This story is actively going against that assumption and ideal because it's a shitty one. Engaging in sexual activity should never, ever mean that someone is no long 'pure'. It's a disgusting view point that goes down an even more reprehensible rabbit hole (no pun intended but we're going with it anyway).

The virginal Madonna motif you talk about is an impossible ideal, and one that is actively addressed in the story... but you'd actually have to read the story instead of just reading my recent chapter and coming in my inbox trying to belittle my character.

And for the fucking record: Abrogail Strong does not have a magical vagina and she sure as hell isn't here to save Aegon. If he wants to be saved, he has to make that decision himself (and he is).

Also??? is this a new thing? Since when the fuck are blowjobs edgy? Blowjobs are so fucking basic. Like? We even get implied blowjobs in a fucking kids movie (You know that scene in The Road to El Dorado I'm talking about). NOT TO MENTION I'm not sorry, if you're looking for descriptions straight from The Hub, my work is not for you. Graphic play by plays are not what I write, I prefer to focus on the emotional and internal side of things because that is what interests me.

[silentsneezes]

I LOVE your marauders pics- I hope you keep writting them, I'm obsessed 💗

thank you so much anon!! 🫶 i really appreciate that :)

here’s a 1.5k word w/olfstar sickfic! i hope you enjoy (this is post hogwarts & they’re living together in their early 20s)

“heh-hRSCH! ughhh,” Remus groaned, a symptom of his exhaustion finally showing through.

Sirius took note of this, filing it away in his internal catalog of his boyfriend’s cold symptoms.

“Bless you Sneezy. Where are the other 6 dwarfs?”

“Sirius,” Remus snapped, already frustrated from his growing headache, “I’m trying to focus.”

For once, Sirius shut up. This silence lasted for all of 30 seconds.

“Would you quit that?” Remus turned around in his chair, fingers running through his hair in an attempt to find the cheerio Sirius had thrown at him. The cereal fell to the floor unceremoniously, breaking it half as it hit the hardwood.

Sirius continued to toss cheerios at his boyfriend, aiming for the freckle on his forehead.

“Seriously, I’m not in the mood,” Remus turned back around in his chair, trying to find his place in the article he was reading for his new job.

“Siriusly?” Sirius said with a cheeky grin, feeling a sense of pride as Remus flipped him the bird and mumbled, “Jar.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and stood up, tugging out his wallet and dropping a dollar into a mason jar labeled “Sirius puns”. The jar was nearly filled to the brim, and earned at least seven dollars in revenue every week. Remus had instated the pun jar after a particularly long week of jokes from Sirius and James, but it hadn’t done anything to deter them.

Sirius sat back down next to his boyfriend, cheerios in hand, weighing the cost vs benefit of continuing to throw the cereal at Remus.

“hH’MPSXSch!” Remus smothered a sudden sneeze into his elbow, his jacket only partially muffling the wetness of the sneeze.

“Bless you,” Sirius threw a cheerio into his mouth, not-so-patiently waiting for his boyfriend to realize that he wasn’t going to get any work done tonight.

“Thangs. Snff- Thanks,” Remus fought the congestion in his voice, ignoring the growing pressure in his sinuses.

After reading the same paragraph five times without absorbing any information, Remus shut his laptop, sighing and rubbing his eyes tiredly. Sirius took this opportunity to wordlessly hand Remus a tissue, pressing the soft fabric into his boyfriend’s hand. Remus looked like he was about to argue, but after sniffing against the congestion again, he gave in and blew his nose softly.

“How’re you feeling?” Sirius was met with a glare. It was response enough, “That bad, huh? Well, you look peachy!”

Sirius gently kissed the tip of Remus’s red nose. The werewolf pushed Sirius away lightly, “You’re going to get sigk dummy.”

“Sick schmick. There’s no way I’m going to stop kissing my boyfr- Rem?” He cut himself off as Remus’s expression dissolved, his eyebrows knit together and his nose twitching.

“H-hold onnhhrRRGSCH! NGTSCxXHiEW!” Remus turned away from Sirius as much as possible, but the air was still damp with spray. Sirius blinked back at his boyfriend, a little surprised by how productive his sneezes were. Usually, Sirius was the messy sneezer, but it seemed Remus’s cold had taken refuge in his nose.

“Sorry,” Remus mumbled into a tissue, his cheeks as red as his nose. Siris smiled endearingly, rolling his eyes and murmuring, “Only you would apologize for sneezing.”

Peter looked up from his tissue confusedly, “Whad?”

“It’s a basic human function, and you’ve got a cold worse than the black plague. You can’t help it Rem, it’s just an involuntary response,” Sirius shrugged. It was somewhat unsettling for Sirius to talk about “involuntary responses” without making a dick joke, his restraint revealing how worried he actually was about Remus’s cold.

“Id’s not thad bad. I’b judt a liddle sigk,” Remus argued feebly. He noted to avoid certain letters. Fuck congestion.

“Right. Blow your nose sneezy. I can hardly understand you.”

After a few good blows and many apologies, Remus’s nose finally reached the point where he could some-what breathe.

“What do you say? I cook up some dinner and we watch some TV?” Sirius suggested, standing up and absentmindedly collecting cheerios from the floor.

“You? Cook?” Remus raised a skeptical eyebrow at his boyfriend. Sirius huffed and pouted back, picking up a cheerio and flicking it at Remus’s face, “I can heat up canned soup, y’know.”

“Last time you nearly started a fire-” Remus started to point out, but he stopped as a cheerio hit him in the forehead. He scowled and snatched it from his desk where it fell, pelting it back at Sirius.

Sirius just grinned back, picking up the cheerio and tossing it into his mouth. Remus grimaced, “It’s a wonder you’re not sick too, eating shit from the floor.”

Sirius shrugged and set the bag of cheerios on Remus’s desk, moving his hands up to Remus’s shoulders to gently rub his sore muscles. Remus lets out a little breath of pleasure as Sirius massages a particularly sore knot.

“No more working tonight, alright love?” Sirius murmured, pressing a kiss to Remus’s temple.

Remus just grumbled in response, but he could tell he wasn’t going to be productive. Between the sneezing and growing headache, working wasn’t an option right now. Sirius seemed to pick up on this, and ran a hand through Remus’s hair gently, coaxing him up, “C’mon, let’s get some food and meds in you.”

Remus let Sirius help him up, his head swimming slightly as he stood. Sirius wrapped an arm around Remus’s waist and murmured a reassuring, “Take your time, I’ve got you.”

Remus bit back a retort, his instinct to shy away from any assistance. Being coddled wasn’t something he took well to, especially after years of needing help after transformations. He tensed, but allowed Sirius to guide him to their kitchen and sit him down at the countertop.

Sirius put on the tea kettle and tapped it with his wand, magically filling it with water. He grabbed two mugs from the cabinet, knowing Remus would feel smothered if he made tea just for him, but he was less likely to protest if Sirius ‘wanted’ tea too.

He tutted as he opened their desolate pantry, which was mostly filled with half eaten chocolate bars and cereal boxes- he stopped himself from making a joke about being barely-functioning adults, knowing Remus isn’t in the mood for his usual quips.

He turned around as he heard a soft “hh-heh” from behind him, frowning sympathetically as he saw Remus tent his hands over his nose, “HrRD’dTSCH!”

Remus paused, his breath catching once before he snapped forwards with another muffled sneeze, “hHrDTSCHU!”

“Bless” Sirius murmured as he flicked his wrist, using wandless magic to summon a handkerchief. It was admittedly a little odd, a defect of him deciding not to use his wand, and had an ugly pattern tracing its edges, but it was still functional. He set the handkerchief in front of Remus, turning back to the pantry as Remus cleaned himself up.

Sighing, Sirius ran a hand through his hair and decidedly pulled open their drawer of take-out menus instead, “We’ve got nothing here. I’ll order some soups and noodles, yeah?”

“Sounds fide,” Remus mumbled in response, the handkerchief pinched over the bridge of his nose in an effort to relieve some of the pressure in his sinuses. His breath hitched again, and he let out a quiet groan, his brows furrowing in annoyance. He rubbed his nose with the handkerchief, only stopping when it made a wet squelching noise.

“Hh-heh,” Remus hitched, his face hidden behind the folds of the handkerchief, “h’zMPSTDCH!”

Even muffled against the handkerchief, Sirius could tell how messy the sneeze was and frowned in sympathy, “Bless you Moons.”

Remus just huffed at the blessing, giving his nose a soft blow and rubbing his temples.

“Headache?” Sirius asked, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. He knew Remus wouldn’t take well to him asking about his symptoms, and wasn’t surprised as he received a glare from his boyfriend. He rolled his eyes fondly and turned his attention to the tea kettle as it started whistling, dropping tea bags in each mug before pouring the hot water over them.

He added two spoonfuls of honey to Remus’s tea, hoping to soothe the sore throat he surely had, but would never admit to. He does the same to his tea as he notices Remus open his mouth to argue, ever stubborn about receiving any care while sick. He passed the tea over to Remus, offering him a little smile and brushing his thumb along Remus’s hand gently before walking over to their home phone and dialing the number of their favorite take-out place.

TBC

sorry for the sudden ending, i’ll write more if the inspiration strikes (it probably will, im a bit obsessed with these two at the moment)

if anyone has any w/olfstar requests/fic ideas please send them my way!!

[harveybwabbit92]

Mother of Ultra, to her nephew: Sorry about leaving you waiting.

[She and R/n start checking Seven's injury]

Seven: No problem, I'm patient *laughs at his own pun*

R/n : *Snorts*...You set up a great opportunity for him to use that pun there, Ma'am.

Mother, stares blankly at Seven: I'm done.

[she walks out the infirmary]

Taro, laying in the cot next to Seven's: That was a good one, Seven... I would laugh if I wasn't in so much pain right now.

[dragonmasterhiccup]

Hiccup's statement brought her back to reality, that she had been with him again for the whole day so far. Freya didn't know what was wrong with her for the last couple of hours, and she absolutely did not like the fact that he was noticing something as well. "Yeah, yeah. Calm down, I'll be 'out of your hair' when Ayla is done here."

He was right. She hated him, and yet, she had willingly chose to be in the same place as him for practically the whole day, again, and here she was, holding a piece of his hair. "Just.. be quiet until she gets back." Freya mumbled, still looking away from Hiccup as she spoke. She resisted the urge to glance at him every now and then, knowing it'll bring even more questions that she didn't want to answer.

It had been around 5 minutes before Ayla returned, but it felt like an hour passed before she came back. "I'm here! I'm so so sorry, I knew I shouldn't have picked that one!" The young girl profusely apologized, tapping her older sister on the shoulder to silently tell her to get up from the chair. Freya slowly arose from her spot, making sure Ayla would grab Hiccup's braid correctly before quickly walking outside next to Blaze, no longer waiting inside the forge.

Ayla sighed, gently finishing the braid, "Sorry, I know you gotta work still.." She mumbled, finally accomplishing her mission. "Mkay.. there! All done! I hope you like it!" She lightly clapped her hands, smiling at what she had done. Glimpsing back at her sister, she whispered at Hiccup: "Don't worry, she won't be angry like that forever, she usually takes it out by sparring with someone.. or running away with Blaze--"

"Ayla! Let's go now!" Freya hauled the leather and steel up in her arms once more, begrudgingly continuing her next words, "..And, make sure you say thank you to him for.. letting you do.. that." She may not have enjoyed saying what she did, but she wanted her little sister to at least have some manners. So, before anything could be said to her, she swiftly walked out of the forge, avoiding any more stares.

Ayla shrugged, a smile making its way to her face as she turned to Hiccup, quickly wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug, "Thank you for letting me braid your hair, Hiccup!" As she let him go, she darted next to her older sister, beaming at the realization that she had actually managed to do such a thing.

Freya noticed the sun starting to set, sighing as she came to terms that she had spent mostly the whole day gone, again. She wondered what her father would say. "C'mon, Ayla. We gotta head home now." She whistled for Blaze, who perked his ears up, grumbling a goodbye to Toothless before following his rider, nudging Ayla as they went.

Hiccup laughed lightly at the pun, cracking a smile, despite the awkward circumstances.

"Right, okay." Pressing his lips together, he stayed silent, drumming his fingers on his knee while he waited for Ayla to return.

Once she did, Hiccup did his best to hold still, allowing her to finish his braid. "It's perfectly alright, Ayla."

He returned her smile, reaching up to feel the braids, since there were no mirrors in the forge. "It's perfect! Thanks!"

Leaning forward to hear her better, he chuckled. "That's good to hear, but I think it might take a bit longer than that... She doesn't like me very much, you know."

Standing up, he straightened his leather apron, ready to get back to work.

When Ayla hugged him, he bent down just enough to hug her back. "It was fun!"

He waved as she ran off, his smile fading as his eyes looked at Freya. She would never make sense to him, would she?

Well, time to get back to it.

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

Hiccup spent the rest of that day catching up on his work, staying in the forge long after sundown.

By the time Toothless dragged him home, he had forgone dinner and collapsed into bed from exhaustion.

Over the next few days, Hiccup spent his mornings in the forge. Ayla visited frequently, and he took the opportunity to teach her as much as he could about what they did there. She even got to help Gobber hammer a new dragon tooth in the mouth of a Monstrous Nightmare.

His afternoons, however, he was by his father's side, learning more about chiefing. Stoick was still upset about Hiccup staying away overnight, but things eventually cooled down between them.

It was four days later now, and no sign of Ayla. Hiccup was a little disappointed, actually, since he liked having her excited energy around.

He also hadn't seen Freya, either, come to think of it...

"Hey, Gobber. Has Freya been back to work on that helmet yet?"

"Most afternoons, yes. It seems she's always here when you aren't."

Oh.

Right.

"Thanks, Gobber."

Rolling up his sleeves, he got to work hammering out an axe.