#My writing stuff

[kaiser-s-bitch]

KINKTOBER - Day 1

Handjob // Kinich

~~~~~

a/n: this got rather lengthy (for my standards) since it’s the first day and I wanted to make sure I’m off to a good start - but the other days most likely won’t be as extensive bc else I probably won’t be able to keep up🥹

(side note: Ajaw is in timeout for this)

anyway enjoy!!

~~~~~

It had all started out rather innocently.

You were hanging out with your boyfriend - Kinich - making out a little as usual. But usually, everything would stay relatively tame - neither of you wanting to push one another’s boundaries too far. At this point, it was honestly almost ridiculous, just how much both of you had been holding back.

Without the other knowing, of course.

Even your shared friend Mualani had started getting impatient for your sake.

"What do you mean you haven’t had sex or anything yet?? You’ve been dating for so long already. What are you waiting for?!", she had told you (or rather yelled) one night as you were hanging out alone with her in one of the hot springs of her hometown.

She did have a point - both you and Kinich were generally very comfortable with one another, but when it came to more intimate matters, your communication was just a bit… awkward. So you had recently kind of settled on avoiding it altogether, in fear of messing up in one way or another.

But after Mualani’s pep talk, you were determined to finally muster up your courage and initiate taking things a bit further than usual.

Which brought you back to the present.

You and Kinich had just finished your commissions for the day, having opted to relax and have some private time in a secluded little spot out in the wilderness, hidden by the shade of various surrounding vegetation. You were sitting close to one another, one of his hands tenderly cradling your face while exchanging slow, sensual kisses, his lips moving against yours without any sense of rush or urgency. It was intimate, yes, but rather… tame.

You decided to lean in a bit closer, deepening the kiss to see how he’d react, and lo and behold: Kinich complied instantly, almost seamlessly adapting to the more intense pace you set, even letting out a low hum of approval. His positive reaction made you more confident that the moment was right, that you could try to turn things up a notch.

You slowly started inching your hand, which had been idly resting on his thigh, higher up. You were hesitant and somewhat nervous, but you figured it was too late to back out now. Your breath quickened as your hand eventually came to tentatively palm his crotch, earning a choked noise from Kinich in response as he froze up for a second. You immediately pulled your hand back as if you had gotten burned, breaking the kiss to look at him with apologetic eyes.

"…Sorry. Too much, huh?" You chuckled nervously, your gaze darting around to avoid his piercing gaze, internally cursing yourself for your rather bumpy attempt at seduction.

"Hey", he spoke in his usual calm, rather monotone voice, trying to get your attention and make you look at him again. When you didn’t react for a moment too long, he opted for taking your hand in his own, gently guiding it back to where you had previously placed it.

"Don’t just jump to conclusions. I didn’t even say anything", he remarked in an almost stern-sounding tone, before gently placing his other hand on your cheek again to capture your eyes with his own hypnotic ones, almost as if he was trying to show you his thoughts with his gaze alone. After all, Kinich excelled at many things - but expressing his emotions, especially with words, was certainly not one of them.

"So, you don’t mind?", you inquired, your features expressing a mixture of hesitant curiosity and uncertain surprise. Kinich scoffed in response, an almost amused smirk tugging on the corners of his lips.

"No. Absolutely not", he retorted without hesitation. "I just never wanted to do, let alone make you do anything you’re not ready for."

Your lips parted as if to say something as realization hit you. Goddammit - you really had been worrying about nothing. You had just both been too introverted and awkward to ever explicitly talk about this, and assumed the other didn’t want to do more.

After a moment of gathering your thoughts, you eventually tilted your head, slowly speaking up again "Does that mean… you want me to… keep going?"

Kinich scoffed again, rolling his eyes. He reached down to gently hold your hand in place as he bucked his hips up, making you feel the hardening bulge through the fabric under your palm.

"What do you think, hm?", he asked sarcastically, his voice a bit more hoarse than usual. He brings his free hand up to the back of your head, carefully entangling his fingers in your hair and bringing you in for another kiss - this time distinctly more heated and passionate than before. His tongue gently probed between your lips, seeking to deepen the kiss, to which you gladly complied. Your hand instinctively started rubbing him through his pants, eliciting a few breathy grunts and sighs from your boyfriend in the process. Smiling against his lips in satisfaction, you got increasingly more bold - rubbing him quicker and with more pressure to get to hear more of Kinich’s soft sounds of pleasure, until you could tell he was fully hardened beneath your touch. You had never heard him like this before, but it was like the sweetest music to your ears, and you already knew you had to hear more of it. It was utterly addicting to see and hear the usually so calm and collected "Malipo" losing his composure like this.

You pulled away from the kiss for a moment to give him a questioning look, silently asking for permission to go further than this. He immediately understood, nodding eagerly in response and quickly reaching down to undo his belt buckle in order to make it easier for you to proceed.

You whispered a quiet "Thank you" before leaning in once more to kiss him deeply and give his bottom lip a playful nip, which immediately earned you a sharp hiss and a light pat on the butt from Kinich. You couldn’t help but snicker in amusement, taking the opportunity to slip your hand under the waistband of his boxers, now finally teasing him directly by letting your fingertips ever so lightly brush over the swollen head of his dick, which was already leaking with precum in anticipation.

"If I had known you were this eager, we could’ve done this so much sooner, you dork", you muttered with a half amused, half exasperated huff, making him roll his eyes at you once again.

"It’s called having manners."

- "It’s called not being good at communicating."

"Look who’s talking. You didn’t say anything either."

You stayed silent for a moment, unable to refute his words. Instead, you opted for distracting him by wrapping your entire hand around his arousal, pumping him slowly and with little pressure. His eyes rolled back for a moment as he lets out a raspy grunt, a shudder going through his entire body from the pleasant stimulation, the mere fact that it was your hand touching him this way making it feel so much better.

"Like this?", you asked softly, smirking smugly at being able to turn your usually stoic boyfriend into putty with just a few intimate touches.

"Yeah. But… you can do it harder. And faster", he rasped, his amber-green eyes flickering to fix onto yours, as if imploring you to do as he asked.

"Hmm, so demanding all of a sudden", you teased, your smirk never faltering as you carefully tugged his pants and boxers down just enough to free his erection, making it easier for you to touch him. He lets out a small relieved sigh at the lack of restraints, shuddering a little from the sudden exposure of his heat to the in contrast cool air.

With practiced ease and deliberation, you continued rubbing him slowly, keeping up the rather light pressure to rile him up further. Annoyed by your antics, he shot you a half-hearted glare, biting his lip in order to keep in a sound that had threatened to escape him.

"You… you’re doing this on purpose. You shouldn’t just start something you don’t intend to finish, you know?", he chided in a raspy voice that lacked any real conviction, his heavy breathing and lidded eyes doing very little in aiding his diminished authority.

"Oh, I very much do intend to finish this. I merely intended on taking my time", you replied coyly as you drank in his aroused state with a mixture of awe and pride, knowing it was all your doing.

"I can tell", he muttered under his breath, purposely refraining from arguing any further as all he wanted right now was some, any, sort of relief.

Taking pity on him, you decided not to annoy him too much as this was your first time doing this with him. You started focusing one hand’s ministrations on rubbing tight circles against his tip with your thumb, wrapping the other one around the base of his hardness. You proceeded to pleasure him with firm, rhythmic pumps and squeezes in time with your circling motions, closely observing his every reaction. You took note of how his cheeks were dusted in a pink blush, his eyes screwed shut and his lips parted in pleasure, letting out little huffs and grunts here and then. You couldn’t help yourself at the sight, leaning in and capturing his lips in a messy kiss, which he gladly returned, a content hum vibrating against your lips.

You could feel him twitch in your hands, signalizing that he was getting dangerously close to the edge.

"I-I’m—", he started but quickly got cut off by his own moan in the process of trying to warn you of his impending release, but you understood it nevertheless.

"I know, darling. It’s okay", you whispered against his lips, devouring him in a messy kiss as you doubled your efforts of jerking him off in increasingly ragged motions. You heard Kinich curse under his breath repeatedly, his entire body trembling and tensing up as his release quickly built up to a crescendo, a low, almost chocked groan falling from his lips as the waves of pleasure finally crashed over him and threatened to pull him under.

You continued pumping him at a steady but distinctly slower pace, helping him drag out as much of his high as possible before finally stilling your movements. You pulled away just enough to look into his eyes, a small smile gracing your lips at the sight of his blissed-out expression. Bringing your hand up to your lips, you made a show of slowly licking off the residue of his pleasure, keeping eye contact with him as you did.

"Okay… that was hot.", he muttered breathlessly, forcing himself to avert his gaze in a futile attempt to hide his flustered expression, clearly very much affected by your lewd display.

You chuckled softly, your smile widening as you turned his face back towards you, gently pulling him in for a kiss to let him taste himself on your tongue - earning you a subtle groan from your boyfriend.

After a few moments, he suddenly pulled away and got on his feet, quickly fixing up his clothes with a dead serious, almost angry-looking expression on his still flushed face. Puzzled, you furrowed your brows and gave him a questioning look, getting up as well to stand next to him.

"What’s wrong?"

He glanced down at you, shaking his head. "Nothing. Let’s continue this - at home."

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Gen Words: 2.8K~ Summary: Not too long after making peace with Homeworld and sparking the start of Era 3, Steven wakes up one morning to discover some... notable changes about himself.

AKA: The one where Steven finally hits his growth-spurt. All at once. Because of course the half-Gem kid could never experience such a human thing like puberty in a "normal" way.

[Part 1 of 2]

Just a few seconds later, knuckles rap against the door in answer to his perturbed cry. 

“Yo Steve-o, that you in there?” Amethyst calls. 

“Y-yeah?” he stammers. His brows threading inwards, he delicately runs his fingers over the ridge upon his throat, very much thrown off by the distinctly lower tenor of the sound coming from his own mouth. He swallows hard, pushing himself to speak again. Come on Steven, he berates himself, think of something lighthearted. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing. No need to completely freak out over this yet. “Who else would I be? It’s not like the whole town uses this bathroom…”

“I mean, I do sometimes. For fun.”

“Okay, fair point, but—”

“Dude, what’s wrong with your voice? Are you like, sick or somethin’?“

“No, it’s just—” 

He squeezes his eyes shut, blocking out all the nebulous, spinning distractions of his mind and the world beyond. Deep breath. It’s okay. Tons of things about his form may be entirely different right now, but like… he seems fine. Right?? Nothing about his body feels tangibly wrong like it did when he willfully stretched himself out on his 14th birthday, or when he changed all his fingers into cats, or when he lost all control of his aging and morphed into an anciently old man and almost died, it’s just… 

New.

New and wholly unfamiliar.

So what now? How can he bravely move forward with all this? What does he need to know? 

“Have, uh… have you ever shapeshifted by accident in your sleep?”

“Not that I‘m aware of,” she says, and he can practically hear the shrug in her tone. “Shapeshifting is a conscious thing you do. It’s a choice, y’know? It doesn’t just happen.”

A good long moment passes as he drinks this information in. He runs his hand through the short curls at the back of his neck as he stands there in the pair of too-small banana yellow pajamas he fit in just fine last night, musing.

“Huh… I guess that makes things pretty simple, then.”

“What d’ya’—”

“Amethyst, I think I’m finally older,” he says, still absolutely mystified by this prospect as he gawks at himself in the mirror. 

She gives a fond laugh. “Ch’a, right? You get older everyday, bud. Wild.”

“No, I mean I’m actually, physically older! Look!”

Steven whirls around and swings the bathroom door wide open to show her. Amethyst’s jaw drops.

“Whoa—! Dude!”

Chuckling nervously, he steps a few feet out, wriggling his bare toes against the wood floor. “I know, right?”

“What the heck, you weren’t kidding!” Before he can even move to say anything else, she spins on her heels and cups her mouth with her hands, hollering towards the temple door. “HEY, PEARL! GARNET! You gotta get out here and see this!”

His brows shoot towards his hairline, his heart hammering in his chest all the while at the thought of all the dumb show-and-tell he’s gonna have to deal with now. “Aww, come on, did you really have to—”

“Amethyst!” Pearl cries, scrambling through the still opening gap in the doorway with Garnet striding mere steps behind. She summons her spear from her gem and swings it to fighting stance with an artful flourish. “What happened? Where’s the threat? What do you need us for??”

Steven darts towards them, hands held up in a placating plea.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! There’s no danger! We’re fine. I just—”

“Oh, my stars—!” she gasps, allowing her spear to dissipate in a glittery flicker of light. “You’ve grown!”

“Nice look, Steven,” Garnet nods, a supportive smile gracing her lips.

“And you’re sure this is real this time? You’re not—?”

“No, no, I’m not stretching myself out, I promise. I just woke up like this.”

“B-but—” Pearl taps her fingers against her chin, appearing thoroughly puzzled— “I thought humans were supposed to age gradually, not all at once.”

Steven’s shoulders slump. “Well… that’s what I assumed too, but—”

“Come, sit with me,” Garnet says, walking around the warp pad to enter the living room. She sets herself down on the couch, patting the cushion in open invitation.

With a heavy, far too weary for his age sigh, Steven shoves his hands in the pockets of his too-small banana pajamas and plods his way over. The rest of the Gems follow suit. He settles himself right next to Garnet, with Pearl perched opposite to her and Amethyst happily lounging on the floor, leaning on the coffee table with her elbows. 

“Steven’s aging hasn’t aligned with the norms of humanity for a very long time,” she observes, a glint of morning sun that’s beaming through the window catching on the edge on the edge of her star shaped visor. Then, turning to him: “I’m curious why you think this is.”

He hums, considering all the chaotic happenings of the past few years. Despite the rare query she poses, he gets the sense that… in her vast wisdom… she already knows the answer. Or at least, a small sum of it. It should be noted that her future vision— as far-reaching as it otherwise is with the vast possibilities of existence— can’t ever touch any knowledge that she won’t be conscious for or present to receive, let alone retroactively scry into the past.

(And honestly? Thank goodness for that.)

“I’m not sure,” he says, a half-lie.

He can think of one reason he might’ve started aging again. Though, it’s not something he’s ready to talk to the Gems about yet. It’s… far too delicate a topic to risk bringing up so soon after the start of peaceful Era 3. But after spending a whole childhood being constantly compared to and mistaken as various versions of his mom… let’s just say, having his gem torn from his body and getting to see it reform into a version of himself (and not her) was simultaneously the worst and the best thing that could’ve ever happened to him. While undeniably traumatic, this experience served as the ultimate proof that he doesn’t have to waste another second of his existence chewing away at some burgeoning identity crisis, that he can live his life however he wants. As Steven. Not as Rose, or Pink Diamond, just… Steven.

He’s not exactly sure how all this mental weirdness translates into him staying stuck looking like a little kid for like… six or so years, but after he returned home from his latest escapade on Homeworld, he could sense that— despite all the messed up stuff he and Connie went through— his spirit was lighter, somehow.

So maybe, he thinks, he simply had to peel away at all the damaged layers of his identity to ready himself to move on to the next stage of his life. Maybe he had to stare death in the eye and pass through the heart of the storm in spite of all these hardships before he could piece the foundational truths of his story back together and learn to finally live again.

To start shifting his hopeful gaze towards the dawn of their bright, sunny future…

“I mean, I always kinda thought he stopped aging because we never did,” Amethyst says then, laying her cheek on the table. “Like, it happened around the time you moved in with us, yeah?”

He purses his lips, scanning his memory. “Uh… I think so? It might have been a year before. Two, even. But I was definitely hanging out with y’all a lot by then.”

She leans over and playfully slugs him in the arm.

“See, there you go! You always wanted to be just like us when you were a kid, so much that you even wore that same ol’ star shirt every day to match ours, ha! You must’ve wanted to be a Gem so badly that you subconsciously stopped becoming older at all.”

“That’s actually a pretty solid theory, Amethyst,” Pearl chimes in. “Good thinking!”

“We have seen you shift your form in response to your perception of others around you,” Garnet says with a nod. “This has caused you to temporarily age and shapeshift in the past, but for you to age in a stable way now, your perception of self must have stabilized, too. I’m very happy for you, Steven.”

She tousles his mess of curls with her gold ringed hand, a welcome little offering of affection that he eagerly leans into.

And then, out of nowhere, Amethyst starts cackling.

“Dude,” she blurts out between her peels of laughter, nudging his foot with her elbow, “I just realized— Greg’s gonna totally lose his shit when he sees this…”

Pearl’s expression scrunches inwards with prickly displeasure. “Language!” 

“What, it’s true!”

He waves Amethyst’s comment off. “Pshhh, my dad’s seen way weirder,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Like, did I ever tell y’guys how the cat fingers incident ended?”

“No!” the quartz exclaims with intensive fervor, and leans forward in anticipation. “Gimme the juicy deets, m’man!”

Garnet adjusts her visor then, her features falling into a dutiful line. “Speaking of Greg… story time can wait until later. Steven— if you want to see your father this morning, you need to head over there now… or there’s a good chance he’ll fall back asleep until one and you’ll miss your window.”

Amethyst’s lips fall into a pout as she slumps back against the foot of the couch, her arms crossed. “Awww, phooey. Spoil sport.”

He swallows a grimace as he internalizes Garnet’s prediction. Yeah, that sounds about right. That’s become a bad habit for his old man lately, staying up super late and then sleeping in almost half the day on weekends. Ever since he received that ten million dollar residues check it’s nothing that can hinder his financials anymore, thank goodness, but then again…

“Yeah… I should probably go make sure he wakes up,” he mutters, pushing his tired body off his seat. “I’ll need his help finding new clothes, anyways.”

The second he’s up and moving again, Amethyst darts around him and snatches his spot with such swift and viscous drive that one might believe this ploy were her sole quest and purpose in life. She stretches out against the seat back with a big, dramatic yawn, crossing her arms behind her head as she speaks. 

“It’s too bad you can’t just… I dunno… summon whatever clothes you want out of light, like us. That’s like the biggest bummer of humanity, if you ask me.”

“And when do you ever experiment with your outfit enough to have a strong opinion about this?” Pearl prods, crossing her arms. “It took you almost a decade to fix that asymmetrical shoulder strap.”

“Well, P… I like to think of myself as a Gem who would experiment with my outfit. One day. If I’m ever really, really bored. Consider it an Era 3 aspiration.”

Steven rocks back and forth on his heels, absentmindedly fiddling with the fraying bottom hem of his pajama top.

“Okay, uh… well, I’m gonna dress to leave now, so—”

“Yeah, see ‘ya.”

“Send a text if you need anything!” Pearl says with a casual wave.

“And don’t forget…” Garnet begins, the ellipses in her tone practically visible with the naked eye.

He pauses in his dutiful march to the stairs— (a somewhat unsteady march… as it turns out, shooting up about a foot and a half in height overnight tends to impact one’s sense of balance for the worst, go figure)— turning back to intercept whatever life advice or future vision she’s prepared for him this time. 

She grins, flashing him a quick heart with her hands instead. “We love you!”

~~

Steven trudges across the hot sands to his dad’s car wash sans his favorite flip flops, trying his very darnedest to wipe away the developing grimace on his face all the while. 

A small segment of him felt overjoyed when he first saw his reflection this morning, eager to look his age and finally grow up alongside his human friends. But after struggling to find anything that fits him even halfway right in his wardrobe, his good mood has rapidly spoiled. There’s a decent few reasons for this.

Reason number one: his old sandals are at least two sizes too small. His heels stick out over the end now, and the plastic thong digs into his toes something terrible. He literally can’t wear them without giving himself blisters. Ergo, his bare feet right now. 

Reason number two: none of his jeans sit right around the waist anymore, plus they make him look like he’s waiting for a flood. (Though thankfully, he found a stretchy blue skirt buried in one of his drawers that will do the trick for now.) 

And perhaps worst of all… reason number three: with his newly increased height, every single one of his treasured star shirts have been turned into ill-fitting crop tops, putting his gem on full display. He’s not against the concept of a crop top, but it sure ain’t a look he’s passionate about for everyday wear. It just feels… too exposing. Like, what about winter?? He can’t bear his whole midriff in winter, he’d freeze, and like… get hypothermia, or something. And not only that, but the longer he’s awake this morning the more an inescapable, thrumming ache starts to settle within the deepest core of his body, like even his bones themselves— the stubborn things— dare to object to this abrupt growth spurt.

Just… ugh. What an annoying hassle all these changes bring.  

“Stupid shirt,” he grouses, tugging at the too-tight collar, “stupid sandals, stupid Gem puberty! Why, oh why can’t I ever go through human stuff normally?”

His bare foot catches upon a sizable stone hidden amongst the beach. On any other day he would’ve successfully broken his fall, stumbling forwards a few awkward steps before regaining his balance and continuing on his way. But with his body now so different, and his center of gravity entirely off from what he’s used to, he head plants straight into the ground.

Wow, he thinks, spitting sand out of his mouth and pushing himself back to his feet. How elegant. Truly the shining paragon of coordination and grace.

Thank goodness no one was watching. Next time he’ll just have to remember to float.

He arrives at his dad’s van with no further incident. The rear doors are— following Garnet’s prediction- cracked open. Dad’s awake, at least for now.

“Daaaaaaaad,” he hollers, cupping his hands around his mouth to project. “A really, really weird thing happened, and I kinda need your help!”

A few spare seconds pass, seconds filled with the rustles of shifting blankets, the sound of a book being shut closed, and his dad’s low murmurs. The doors swing wide, though not as wide as Dad’s eyes when they wander around their bright, sunny surroundings and eventually land square on him and his new look.

“Wh— Steven, holy smokes! Look at you!”

With an awkward chuckle, he scratches away at an itch at the nape of his neck. “Heh heh, I know, right?”

“You’re almost as tall as your old man! When did this happen? How did this happen?”

“Some point last night, I guess,” he shrugs. “I just woke up like this. But Dad—” he clings onto his arm with mounting desperation— “I need your help to find some new shirts. Don’t you have like… whole boxes of your old tour merch stashed away somewhere? I don’t wanna have to get rid of my star, I just— I just need a bigger size, or something.”

“Hmmm…” Dad muses, scratching at the scruff of his beard. “Well, maybe, but…”

“But what?”

“But if any of it’s still around, then it’s probably in Amethyst’s room. All of the stuff from the storage unit ended up with her, remember?”

“Oh…” he says, brows furrowed, not quite able to parse this fact within his memory yet. And then… 

Ugh. That’s right.

Two New Years’ ago. The huge mess of crates and mattresses and long forgotten belongings. All that ridiculous Little Butler nonsense. Amethyst’s fight with Dad.

“Oh,” he mumbles, crossing his arms. “Right. Well, then let’s go find it!”

“R- right now?”

“Yeah, why not? I need new clothes, and you could see if there’s any old junk in there you might want to keep!”

With that, he grabs his dad’s hand and yanks him along, spirit filled with renewed purpose and vigor.

“And you’re sure you need my help for this?” Dad asks, lagging a step or two behind him as they march back across the beach together. “The Gems, they… well, they don’t usually want me going into the temple—”

“Oh, Amethyst will be fine,” he says with a wave of his palm. “She never cares when I go in there to check out her trash piles. ‘Sides, I need your help to find the right box! I have no idea what your old band stuff was stashed in.”

His dad flashes a tight smile, the sort he always serves up when he’s nervous, but also too timid to tell him that he’s nervous.

“Well… if you think she’ll allow it…” he relents, and picks up his pace to match his.

~~

[End Part 1... more to be shared later.]

[conductor-horus-b]

Oh! Guuuuuys, thank you very much! I'm just noname and THIS result means a lot for me...Thanks again 🥹🫰

By the way, you can ask me about trolls requests) I wanna draw smth for you, my first readers)

[sharkface-daydreams]

Tucker: Ugh. Of course you have blue armor and pronouns.

Church: What? Of course I have -- why wouldn't I have pronouns, everyone has those! Do you--wait. Wait, Tucker look at me, look at me. Do you think, that you don't have pronouns?

Tucker: ...Well it sounds like you're getting ready to make fun of me so no.

Church: *audible grin in his voice* No, no, dude, come on. Tell me the truth, do you think you don't have pronouns? Like seriously.

Tucker: ...I don't wanna keep talking about this.

Church: *laughing* YOU brought this up, man! You can't NOT have pronouns, dipshit, they're automatic! I'm not gonna use your name every fuckin' time, that sounds stupid. 'Tucker went to Tucker's room because Tucker was being an idiot about grammar and Tucker was mad I made fun of Tucker for it.' See how fucking stupid that sounds without pronouns?

Tucker: *already walking away* Fuck you, dude!

Church: 'You' is a pronoun too, asshole!

[violent138]

Batman's ships with his various Rogues are very interesting to think about (lots of quality material there for both character analysis and just fun) but simultaneously you have to grapple with (or ignore) the canon abuse/murder/kidnapping/torture/trauma some of the Rogues have wrought upon Bruce's family. I'm starting to really get into BruHarvey (for so many great reasons), but holy hell in canon Harvey was once the killer of Jason's dad, and definitely beat the shit out of Dick (amongst other things).

Still a great ship though.

[boyslit]

Prompt: Protector

Rating: G Word Count: 277

Gepard lifted a hand to protect his face as a loud explosion sounded in front of them. When he looked up, the approaching Fragmentum creatures were stumbling, cloaked in a thick wall of smoke. He recognized that smoke. "Stay out of the smoke!" he yelled, throwing out a hand to stop the approach of the soldiers behind him. "It's knockout gas! Wait until the wind takes it and then finish them off!"

Gepard spared a single glance behind them, to the rooftops where the bomb surely must have been tossed from, but he saw nothing.

"Sir, who threw the grenade? That doesn't look like ours."

"It isn't," he said with some irritation. "But I think it's the work of an ally, so let's finish these creatures off while we have extra time."

Sampo leapt with an acrobatic flip across the alley to land on the next rooftop to follow the Silvermanes' route of carnage through the restricted zone, whistling happily to himself. The more he helped old Geppie out, the less their dear captain would have to work himself into the ground, and the more energy he'd have for chasing Sampo around. This was just a little stroll to invest in his own happiness...

Humming, he lined up his next target, and launched the little heart-painted bomb towards the next crowd of creatures. He ducked behind a chimney as Gepard's head whipped around to try and catch him. But there was no one to be spotted nearby, so he only glared and held his troops at bay until the smoke washed away with the wind. Sampo giggled, and rested his chin on his folded arms to fondly watch them mop up the weakened and unconscious fragmentum creatures.

[galati-cat]

Collapse Into Me: Chapter 4: The Ones Left Behind

When the dust clears, Wukong is left alone on the destroyed battlefield.

Chapter 4 is finally here! Enjoy!

[its-catastrophics]

A year ago, Simon mysteriously vanished. Horace, an avid vampire hunter, rediscovers him in the last place he expected... A vampire AU for the Halloween month! This is an old fic I got some lovely feedback for and so I decided to share it!

[roselyn-writing]

🌲🌴🏜️World building (Virginia) 🐪💚🌳

This is one of the most important worldbuilding stuff in my novel/stories. I’m going to talk about Virginia, It’s a whole continent in the world of Valǒrena or Valoranta (Didn’t decide the official name, Lol), So, I’m going to discuss about the land, its history, the geographical info, Its folklore, religions, symbols and finally the people.

Virginia is a magical and breathtaking continent in the world of Valǒrena. Everything there is magical, The plants, the air, the water, Heck even the food is magical. Imagine it as a land in a fairytale world.

There are a lot of beautiful and magical places in Virginia that welcome all the people even if they aren’t Virignians, The places offer solace, help, comfort and happiness. For example, All Virginian cities (500 cities), The magical gardens of Aish’tala, The lake of Revelation, the Desert of Peace, Sire Aham’s Shining Gardens, The Copper City, The Emerald Forest, Valley of Light, Tal’Arafh, The Blessed Isles. Mount Kythera, Mount Alyisha,Tal’Anoor, Al’Balsm. The enchanted forest. Saliena’s music revenue. Tal’Alamjad. Ravine of Wonders. King Xavier’s hill.

While on the other hand; There are dark and dangerous places that no one dares to enter them: The Black Forest, The Tah’loor, Donovan’s castle, The Dark ones tombs, Mariuz Castle, Malūrn City, The Nawa Island, Cave of the Dead, The Obsidian Castle, Al Makida desert, Tle’ktiva, The ruins of Al-Tamra, Omenvalley. The Dead Lake. Khyerōma, Telkashta ravine, The Dark Palace. The far west long deserted territories of Virginia, The Virginian refer to them as ‘Salomkena’ which means: ‘Forbidden to enter’

All the places I mentioned earlier hold wonders and secrets, the last one I mentioned are dangerous, They are all filled with rich history and ancient knowledge. But, They aren’t so lucky to escape corruption by evil wizards or creatures, such as: Demons and magical creatures like Donovan . They are declared dangerous places, they once were good places and venerated once.

The folklore:

People in Virginia varied in the terms of folklore. They have alot of different folklores.

Customs: Virginian people have alot of customs in everything, Food, clothes, and life.

They do not like to visit people empty-handed. They are generous with people and friends, they love to dress modestly. They respect and follow the rules of their government unless it is oppressive and heretical. They do not follow it.

Ancient stories: Virginian people have alot of stories, about paranormals, evil, demons and etc.

The most famous one is of a demon that transformed into a white glowing ball that flies in the nighttime in the desert and lures travellers to their death. Donkey Lady is a demon, dark entity that has the form of a beautiful woman but later on, the would-be victims would notice her donkey features. The Palm-Tree lady. And so on.

Honouring people: The Virginians built statues to venerate and honor people but they do not worship them.

All the Virginians have their hearts on the right side of their lung. Some rare humans in earth have this feature too, but mostly it is a Virginian trait. An info most people and races don’t know.

Life-span: Virginians have very, very long life-span; They outlive most of races in any-world. They don’t know the reason but they are thankful for that. Some Virginans assumed they are righteous and they pray to their God faithfully: The remained-one, The everlasting. And in return, he blessed them with a very, very long life-span. The oldest Virginian alive is 900,000 years old.

Virginians can heal quickly and sometimes their body would fake death-state to buy them time for the healing process, the enemy would assume they are dead and they’d leave them be. Unbeknownst to them, they aren’t and they are healing.

The colour of magic depends on people desire and hearts, sometimes, people can choose the colour too. But mostly it has to do with the peoples’ heart.

When a Virignian had his / her heart ripped out by heart-ripping spells, They don’t die easily, their heart are like crystal-clear glowing gemstones. other races have similar effects but it won’t glow like a Virginian.

The main eye-colours that Virginians have are: Blue, Brown and grey and purple. Though Hadi and Layla are an exception.

Beliefs: There are alot of religions in Virginia and Valǒrena as a whole, Islam, Pagan and Christianity,

Sayings; ‘Shade and Breeze to you’: Peace and love to you, It is a saying when people bid goodbye to other people. It is just like saying ‘goodbye’

Music / songs: The Virginian use harp, flute and drums as their main musical instruments, it is also a reminder of their forefathers legacy.

Food / delicacy: Virignians eat alot of things, mainly rice, chicken and lamb meat. They also consume vegetables and water.

Clothing: All Virginian dress modestly.

People / creatures inhabit Valǒrena: Virginians, Akendiyans, Kaantains, Ashtalians, Sumerians, Asurians (humans / Mortals, or humanoid - creatures) Giants, dark entities, Demons, spirits and plant creatures, dwarves. The Sylvians (Guardians of the Forests).

Geography: In Valǒrena, There are places that are so magical and beautiful that people from Earth ‘Earthlings’ won’t believe it exists. Some animals can talk and some plants can walk around. There are geographical features that don’t exist in other worlds. There are even places that defy gravity and logic in every way. Such as a flying trees and creatures, or mountains upside down or water flowing upside down and so on.

Symbols: In Virginia, The moon refers to light and new opportunities, stars refer to hope, peace and quietness. The sun refers to heat and generosity. The mountains refer to strength and determination. And so on. The crescent moon refers to the holiest months in Virginian.

I will add more to this post in case I forgot something.

[echoesoftheinfinite]

Katherine was gazing out at the horizon, her mind a tangle of thoughts. Owen’s question broke through her reverie.

“What do you want to do, Katherine?”

She turned to him with a distant look in her eyes, her voice soft and thoughtful.

“I don’t know, a little of everything. And a little of nothing too.”

Owen tilted his head slightly, trying to grasp her meaning.

“What does that mean?”

Katherine sighed, her gaze drifting back to the ocean, the distant waves reflecting the starlight. Her voice carried a hint of melancholy as she continued.

“It means I want to feel so many things, do so many things, learn so many things, and I feel like I don’t know enough about what to do, or when, or how. But I also don’t feel like doing much of anything. You know? Like in moments like now, here, just sharing a nice view and raw, honest conversations about what we want to be, about our thoughts on life.”

Owen’s brow furrowed as he considered her words, his eyes searching her face for understanding.

“That sounds a bit contradictory, don’t you think? Wanting to do everything but also nothing at all."

Her voice was soft but firm as she responded, still gazing into the distance.

“When have I ever been less complex?”

[kaiser-s-bitch]

hi omg i have been thinking about this a lot and idk I think you could work well with my request, so I’ll just ask! How would Neuvilette and Wriothesley react to their female s/o telling them they can go raw / they can finish inside? I’m so curious~ and I hope you have fun with writing this! Neuvi and Wrio are so hot omg I am so sad I didn’t get Wrio :(

hello my dear!! thank you so much for sending this in, I finally got around to writing it ;-;

I absolutely did have fun with it, and I’m sure Wrio will honor you with His Grace pun intended during his rerun😌🙌🏼 do feel free to share more of your thoughts hehe

—————

asking them to finish inside (Neuvillette, Wriothesley) || 18+

Neuvillette:

The Iudex of Fontaine had been busy this entire week. Very busy. Too busy to spend any sort of alone-time with you, not even returning home for the night, instead spending the nights in his office, burying himself in the mountain of bureaucracy that he called his work.

Tonight was the first time after said week where he had come home to you, finally burying himself in you again… and it was driving both of you absolutely crazy.

Breathless pants of his name left your lips in a seemingly endless stream, your fingers entangled in the silky strands framing his pretty face as you gently rub your thumbs against his cheeks, the loving gesture in stark contrast to the almost feral movements of your bodies meeting one another in an unrestricted, desperate display of passion.

He was so damn close - you could see it in his face, hear it in the way his moans of pleasure got that slightly whiny edge you loved so incredibly much, feel it in the way his hips began to increasingly stutter with each stroke of his. He tried to slow down in an attempt to postpone his release, refusing to let this end just yet, not before you would be satisfied first… but you yourself had other plans.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in even closer as you whispered in his ear "Don’t stop now, my love… Please, keep going, wanna feel you finish inside…"

He shuddered visibly, inhaling sharply in an attempt to calm himself down and keep from exploding right then and there.

It took all of the Iudex’s willpower to cease his movements, pulling away slightly to look directly into your eyes and inquiring "Are you… absolutely sure?"

Even though you were on the pill, and neither of you knew for certain whether it was even possible for him to procreate with a human, you usually never opted to take the risk… up until now.

You nod, pulling him in once more and clenching around him noticeably, your hips moving ever so slightly to coax him into going on.

"I am. It’s gonna be okay, just please…" You trail off, unable to finish the sentence, though it’s not like you needed to in order for him to understand. He nods very slowly, his empathetic nature paired with the physical need overwhelming him in this moment making it nearly impossible for him to resist your wishes (or his own body’s, for that matter).

He lets out a soft groan under his breath, starting to move against you once more, this time with more vigor and intensity, yet also trembling more than ever before. It wasn’t long until his thrusts grew sloppier, until he eventually pushed himself as deep as he could possibly go and let out a soft, shaky moan when he finally released inside of you.

Wriothesley:

The Duke was a smart and responsible man. He seemed to always know what to do and what not to do, keeping a cool head no matter the direness of a situation… but goddamn did you make that impossible for him today.

It was a certain time of the month - the time where you were especially horny and needy. And he already knew in advance: Wriothesley kept track of your monthly cycle in his calendar, ensuring that he was mentally prepared for all of your moods and could avoid additional headaches. But all that preparation didn’t help him much in this case, because how on earth would you expect him to not go completely feral when you come up to him sitting in his office, straddling his lap and rubbing yourself against him so deliciously??

He actually still had some administrative work to finish… but tomorrow would be a day too, right?

So Wriothesley ended up telling himself one of the biggest lies in human history: "JuSt tHe TiP" - which of course escalated into much, much more as you kept teasing and taunting him to keep going until he ultimately bent you over his desk, slowly sinking himself into you just the way he knew you loved.

He eventually doubles over, leaning down and pressing his chest against your back, whispering to you in a husky voice as he wraps one hand around your delicate neck: "You’ve managed to rile me up quite a bit there, darling." You only let out a soft whine in response, clenching around him desperately as you could feel yourself throbbing for more. The Duke couldn’t help but let out a stifled groan, sinking his teeth into your shoulder at the sensation.

"You’re really a piece of work, y’know that?", he then remarked with a throaty chuckle, his free hand coming down on your ass and eliciting a surprised yelp from you. He knew he wasn’t going to last any longer, you had gotten him way too weak already, so he inquired in a low rumble of a voice: "Where do you want it, princess?" He was about to pull out, but a distinct protest from you stopped him - it was as if your pussy was holding him in with a death grip, causing his eyes to roll back for a moment due to how close he was feeling to his limit.

"Stay inside, please, want you to cum inside", you babbled almost incoherently, yet the man understood every single word.

*Wrio.exe has stopped working*

You hadn’t even finished the sentence when he exploded inside of you, letting out a not-so-manly moan in the process (you fucking loved it).

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Teen Audiences Words: 1.3K~ Summary: “So, wait— what you’re saying is that you want me… to glow for you—?” In which a drowsy, throwaway comment inspires Steven to— fueled by Connie’s implicit trust and encouragement— test the very limits of his self-restraint.

@glowweek

Suuuuper late, but this one was inspired by this event's "Glow or Dark" prompts. I utilized both of the themes in this work.

Essentially, this story is me going "but what if Steven could enter pink mode but on his own terms and with Healthy emotions?" Steven and Connie are 22 and 21 respectively, here. This is the furthest in their future I've posted a work covering so far, ahah.

Enjoy!

__

“Y’know, it’s kinda a shame you only glow when you’re really, really stressed out,” Connie murmurs out of nowhere that night, nuzzling herself even further into his side. “I bet you’d make for a nice nightlight.”

“Wait, what?” Steven responds, his words punctuated by a sudden peel of bemused laughter. He props himself up in their bed, scooting apart from her wanting embrace (she gives a pitiful but very cute little whine at this, still half-asleep) so he can actually turn to meet her eyes. “Where’s this coming from?”

If he fully understands the underlying question in his fiancé’s drowsy doozy of a comment— a comment he doubts she’d ever make while awake and alert— then she’s probably inquiring about why he never consciously utilizes even half the full potential of his power, not even recreationally.

And if he’s honest, it’s a fair question. He’s been somewhat neglecting this part of himself ever since he moved in with her late last year.

After all, it’s not like there’s much practical use for many of his abilities anymore. There’s no battles left to fight. No empires left to dismantle. No need to host those monthly healing sessions he used to organize ever since he and the Gems bottled a large stock of his saliva for long term use. It’s nice, in a way. It’s like an extended vacation from all the stressors of this facet of his existence. Instead, he’s been able to focus all his time and energy on other stuff— like finally finishing his GED, pursuing enrollment in some community college courses for the fun of learning itself, and doing some experimentation with some new instruments he’s never played. 

Little things.

Human things.

That glowing she speaks of, though…

The remnants of laughter fade from his lips as he refocuses on this topic.

He hasn’t snapped pink in weeks. It’s the longest period that’s passed without a flare up since that month his gem fell into an energy conserving stasis immediately following his meltdown in his teen years. So why is she bringing this up now? 

What’s really on her mind?

He asks as such.

This appeal for emotional honesty seems to jostle Connie out of the brunt of her drowsiness. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes with the furthest edge of her knuckles and then parts her lips again.

“It’s just… you never use your powers anymore,” she says, her brow creasing inwards. “Any of them. And of course I understand why, but…”

“But—?”

“But sometimes… I wish things weren’t so muddled for you. That you felt free to express yourself as both a human and a Gem in this space.”

His brows thread together as he considers all this, his confusion-addled brain looping right back to the throwaway, sleepy statement that hurtled this whole conversation into being in the first place. “So, wait— what you’re saying is that you want me… to glow for you—?”

Connie snorts. “Well, my actual want is a little more nuanced, but sure. We’ll go with that as a shorthand.” 

“And you do know my powers are, uh… extra volatile when I’m in that state, right?” 

Her lithe fingers glide their way across the subtle peaks and valleys of his inner wrist. Caught amidst the thorny brambles of his anxiety, such feather light skin contact is grounding. 

Mesmerizing.

“Nothing you do could ever truly scare me,” she reminds him, the calloused contours of her hand dancing along every last edge and sweeping curve of the lines etched into his broad palm.

Steven hums, the latent tension in his form unraveling under the spell of his fiancé’s gentle affection.

And with the loving encouragement of her words echoing like a fleeting melody within the drowsy, wandering neurotransmissions of his consciousness comes a sudden thought:

Can he glow pink on demand?

Is it even possible for him to wrest conscious control of this ability? To find a healthy means of tapping into that vast sum of energy lying dormant in his gem without trudging through the burdens of anger, misery, or fear?

Are these diamond powers something he could one day reclaim for good?

His eyelids flutter shut. Inhaling with a deep-rooted purpose and focusing inwards on the familiar, dual sensations of his partner’s knowing touch and his gem’s constant, faint vibrations, he reflects upon the broad menagerie of feelings and emotional states that govern his other abilities: 

Responsibility.

Joy.

Compassion.

Grief.

Love.

If he’s intending to tap into this well by choice… to summon this strength and glow for his Connie… what kind of emotion does he wish to anchor himself with?

Nothing you do could ever truly scare me, her promise rings in his ears once again. 

The sentiment flows through his veins like sweet nectar, a healing magic all its own.

Trust.

That’s it. Connie trusts him implicitly— without question, without resolve.

So maybe it’s time he finally grapples with all the facets of his identity he’s long neglected and starts to trust himself, too.

Confident in his decision to at least try, he entwines their fingers together, expressing his endearment through a quick triple squeeze.

Okay. 

Okay…

Deep breath, Steven. Deep breath. You’re home. You’re safe. You can pull back whenever you want. YOU are in control.

With one final shaky inhale, he opens his mind to the potent sum of energy swirling within the fathomless layers of his gem.

That familiar glow blooms from his cheeks on command, spreading across the entire span of his body in but a split second and casting their bedroom in a soft, tranquil, shadow-casting pink. It’s almost like flipping a light switch— which makes Connie’s earlier comparison all the more amusing. He can’t help but let out a quavering laugh of relief at his victory, meeting his partner’s eyes as he revels in the sweet euphoria of everything this accomplishment means for him as both a gem and a human being. 

Her gaze surges with a wealth of pride and warmth while she drinks in the sight. Flashing him a teasing smile, she dances her hand up the length of his arm and towards his center, splaying her fingers wide across his bare chest, right over his heart. Steven’s breath hitches. Such tactile sensations seem far more sensitive in this state than they are for him normally. The sheer memory of her touch buzzes at his core like a giddy swarm of butterflies in his stomach, each and every minuscule shift in her contact commanding his full attention.

It’s a beautiful moment— and there’s a small segment of him that wishes it could linger just a while longer— but that damned logic within his mind recognizes it’s smarter to pull back now rather than cling to such a fickle surge of power a second too long and risk potential disaster. No matter how much fulfillment swells within his soul for what he’s achieved here, this ability is still untrained… unrefined. Tonight’s accomplishment is only the beginning of his journey to reclaim it.

He exhales slow and steady, willing that glimmering pink pallor to sink back into his hard-light veins. Their room grows dark once more. His gem’s once fervent hum fades into a hushed murmur. A relieved, watery smile stretches across his cheeks as he feels all the lingering remnants of that energy dissipate right alongside his fading adrenaline. 

Her head tilting with ample curiosity as she regards him, Connie shifts her hold to his shoulder. “And how did that feel?”

“Not as scary as I thought it’d be,” he admits with a shrug, carding his hand through his curls.  

She smiles. “Good.“

Pulling their bodies flush, she plants a swift, tender kiss upon his lips. (Always a treasure to savor, no matter how fleeting the circumstances.) Then, leading by example, she tucks herself back under the covers, patting the adjacent pillow in invitation. 

Entirely smitten, Steven follows in turn.

“Anyways, as usual I was completely right,” she says, nestling herself against his side once more.

His brows raises, an amused chuckle rumbling in his chest. “About—?”

Grinning, she reaches up boop the tip of his nose.

“You do make for a beautiful nightlight, silly.”

[sitkowski]

(IDK WHAT THIS IS AND I KNOW NEXT TO NOTHING ABOUT LORNA SHORE OR WILL BUT)

You know what fic trope itches my brain?

Huddling for warmth.

Because winters on the East Coast are no joke. The cold snaps into place and there's nearly a foot of snow on the ground two weeks before Christmas. Everything is cold and dark. Eventually, the power goes out in your area. You're lucky enough to have inherited your parent's place and while it's out in the woods practically in the middle of nowhere, it's got a wood stove and there's a decent stash of wood in the cellar. As long as you crack a window, you won't suffocate. So you load the sofa up with blankets and grab the portable charger you keep for times like this.

The knock on the door surprises you. Who the hell would be stupid enough to be out in this? When you open the front door, the first thing you see on the other side is a human shaped blob that you realize you know. Will has on at least four layers, maybe more. You see hints of a beanie, maybe two hoodies, all beneath a heavy puffer coat and at least two scarves.

You ask him if he's insane, even as you let him in. Because there's no way he drove here. When he tells you he walked, you start yelling at him. It doesn't matter that your places are only separated by a thin woodline and it only took him about ten minutes. Last time you checked the temperature, it was nineteen degrees out.

He doesn't seem phased by your complaints, standing by the wood stove and shedding layers. It won't be dark for hours, and the living room is the warmest room. You've got water running to protect the pipes, and enough non-perishable foods. It's not the first time you've been in an outage in the winter. You're watching him strip out of hoodies—and three pairs of sweatpants— when you realize: Will walked in nineteen degree weather to see you. When you ask him why, he just says he missed you, that as soon as he got home from tour he wanted to see you but knew there were other things he had to do first. But he was making time for you now, and the two of you could be snowed in together.

By the time he's down to his jeans and a thermal shirt, he's shaking, as if the cold finally caught up to him. You make him get beneath the pile of microfiber blankets and curl up beside him. He's freezing even with all of the layers he had on, and you wrap yourself around him, letting your body heat seep into him. He tips his head back, kissing you softly. When you look out the window beside you, you can see that the snow is starting up again and you pull the blankets up higher. The air between the two of you is humid and relaxing, and he's asleep before you know it. You pull his phone from the nest of blankets and text one of his guys, just in case someone is looking for him. Closing your eyes, you let him burrow closer, tucking his head beneath your chin as you trace your fingers over the ink on his throat.

[enquiringangel]

Family Dinner

for @themarginalthinker who wanted Max introducing Lucy to his Boys. Some David/Michael and vague David/Michael/Star because I am weak, lol.

When Max told him of his plans to turn some woman he met and her two kids, David got it. He was lonely once too. Before his boys came along, it had been just the two of them for a good thirty years.  And Max was many things, but entertaining company? Definitely not one of them. It was like living with an undead accountant. By that point David had seriously begun to wonder if it was possible for an immortal to die of sheer boredom.  

In his own way, Max had understood this. Though he got annoyed with him whenever David had been too messy or too obvious with his kills, in the very next moment he would dismiss it as ‘the impetuousness of youth’. And when David had come back to their lair one night unable to stop gushing about this guy he’d met down by the docks and how fun it had been to watch this scrappy kid defend himself with a crowbar against five guys and win, Max had studied him curiously and asked, “Would you like a brother, David?”  

The rest was history. Max had given him Marko, then later Dwayne, then Paul, and boredom and loneliness had become a thing of the past. So yeah, he could understand Max wanting to have someone on his own wavelength for company through eternity. That didn’t mean Max’s whole ‘let’s play happy families’ shtick wasn’t ridiculous though. He didn’t need mothering. That ship had long set sail. 

Still, Max was pretty insistent on them coming along tonight. “I’ve already told her about you,” he said, in response to the Boys’ complaints about wasting a perfectly good Friday sitting around a table and playing house when they could be off doing things that were actually fun. “Lucy said she would like to meet you all properly. And I wouldn’t want to disappoint her by turning up without you.” Despite their maker’s mild words and genial tone, the look in his eye made it very clear that their presence at this family dinner was not a request.  

"Besides,” Max continued. “Her boys will be there. This will be the perfect opportunity for you to get to know each other better.” 

The four younger vampires had all exchanged smirks, since they felt that they were already getting to know Michael pretty well on their own. But David wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to spend more time with him. There was a wildness hiding behind that Joe-normal façade. A darkness. David wanted to crack Michael open and taste it.  

Michael, he had decided, was even worth sacrificing a Friday night for. When he had shared this opinion with the boys, they had all teased him something rotten.  

Assholes, he thought affectionately as he glanced across at Marko and Dwayne who were crammed in the back seat with him. Paul had called dibs on shotgun to have control over the radio; Max insisted they were all going in his car instead of taking their bikes, but that didn’t mean they had to be subjected to Barry Manilow the entire way. Paul was currently slapping his thigh and singing along to Poison’s ‘Talk to Dirty to Me’. In the interest of keeping the peace, Max endured this in a long-suffering way, other than to keep turning the volume down. Whenever his attention was on the road, Paul would surreptitiously turn it back up again.  

Max drove along a rutted track until they came to a lodge-style farmhouse, the yard decorated with lots of wooden carvings. The boys had been here before of course, when they had dropped Michael home after their fun proved a little too much for his fledgling self to handle. They unfolded themselves from Max’s car, while their maker fussed around straightening out the wrapping on the bouquet he’d brought with him and adjusting his tie.  

The boys were dressed in their preferred style, though Max had demanded Dwayne put a shirt on for the occasion, something that Dwayne had complied with in malicious silence. The black t-shirt was Paul’s, meaning it was a size or two too tight, hugging Dwayne’s pecs. Across the front in white letters were emblazoned the words: ‘GUITARISTS FINGER BETTER.’ Max appeared not to have noticed. 

“Now boys, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you to be on your best behavior,” Max warned as he led them to the front door. The thoughts that streamed into David’s head were a reminder of what awaited them should they fail to do so: a few weeks spent clawing at the lining of a coffin buried in a shallow grave, with wild roses laid on the lid to stop them breaking out. Max had a very literal interpretation of ‘grounding’. 

One day old man. One day, David vowed, careful to keep the thought to himself.  

Just as Max raised his fist to knock on the door, who should open it but Michael? 

The half-vampire looked astonished to see them. “David?” he blurted out, ignoring Max’s attempt to greet him as if he wasn’t even there. “Guys? What are...wait.” He flicked his eyes between the four motorcycle-riding punks and the unassuming and badly dressed man in a suit and did the necessary math. “...this guy’s your dad?” In the bond blooming between their minds, David could hear Michael’s confusion over the fact that the gang had apparently been serious when they called each other brothers. ‘They don’t look anything alike...’ 

“We’re all adopted,” Marko put in helpfully, answering the unspoken question.  

Max cleared his throat. He was smiling, but if you knew him you could see there was definitely an edge to it. “That’s correct. Hi, you must be Michael.” He extended a hand in greeting. 

Michael didn’t take it, instead looking Max coolly up and down. “And you must be Max,” he said, sneering faintly.  

Max was spared from further awkwardness by the sound of heels tapping rhythmically on the carpet and the appearance of a smiling woman with short red hair. “Michael? Is there someone at—Oh, hi!” she said, hurrying over. Lucy smiled at him, before turning her attention to the four (seemingly) young men standing on the doorstep. For a moment her smile faltered slightly and as he met her eyes David could hear her thoughts loud and clear. ‘These are the boys who were in the video store a few nights ago...why would Max kick them out if they’re his sons?’ 

This lady’s smart. Guess it skipped a generation, David thought to himself. But Michael was pretty enough that it didn’t matter, he supposed. 

He gave her his most winning smile.  “Hi. You must be Lucy, we’ve heard so much about you. I’m David.” He clasped one of her hands like she was one of the debutantes he had never been allowed anywhere near as a human, and brushed his lips across the back of her knuckles. A quick glance at Michael told him that the other boy looked like he was either going to have an aneurism or punch him in the face again - it was fantastic. 

Lucy laughed, delighted. “My goodness, what a charmer! Max, you’re raising a heartbreaker,” she teased, still chuckling. 

“I try,” David said, smiling impishly. “This is Dwayne, Paul and Marko.” He nodded to each and the boys greeted her in turn, Dwayne with a nod and one of his bedazzling smiles, Marko with a grin and a little wave, and Paul with a brief hug and a kiss to each cheek, continental style.  

“I’m so sorry, where are my manners?” Lucy exclaimed, stepping back from the doorway so that they could file past her. “Please come inside, all of you. Michael honey, are you going out or coming in?” she added. 

Michael blinked; he had been staring at David so intently that when he tore his gaze away there was almost an audible rupture. “Hm? Oh right. Yeah, I was just leaving."  

Michael’s thoughts were full of Star, and it made David grit his teeth. He was not jealous; that was ridiculous. They were both his, and he didn’t mind Michael fucking her. But they could’ve at least had the courtesy to invite him to join them. 

(Okay, so maybe he was slightly miffed that Star had gotten a taste of Michael before him. Just a little.) 

“Aw, you’re not going are you Michael?” Marko asked as he stepped past Michael into the house.  

“Yeah, come on you gotta stay man.” Paul gave Michael a friendly shove, and then was quickly distracted by the novelty of his reflection in the hallway mirror. He drifted over to it. 

“You could give us a tour,” Dwayne suggested, poking at a taxidermied beaver smoking a cuban cigar.  

“That’s a good idea,” Lucy agreed, eager to have Michael stay for dinner with them all. And pleased that they already appeared to know one another and to get along so well. Max presented her with the flowers and she led him off into the dining room to go and put them into some water. 

Michael appeared torn. He wanted to see Star, yes, but the thoughts continuously leaking across into David’s mind revealed that what he actually wanted more than anything else was answers. Star hadn’t actually told him anything, and had in fact protested tearfully that she couldn’t, and that she didn’t know how to help him. But David had done this to him, hadn’t he...so maybe he could help put it right again. 

David looped his arm around Michael’s shoulders and gave him a friendly squeeze. “Come on, Michael. Stay. I’m sure we’ll have lots to talk about,” he said, eyeing Michael meaningfully. His lips curled into a grin.  

After a moment, Michael nodded and stepped into the house, closing the door behind him.  

((The Boys 5 minutes later: *all jockeying for position at the mirror and standing there pulling funny faces and cracking up at the novelty. The line about Max's interpretation of 'grounding' was inspired by @marypsue's brilliant fic 'look for something left in this world'.))

[dumbasswithapen]

Mechtober day 16 - dream/nightmare

@mechtober-2024

some violinspector today! Mild, but whatever

[boyslit]

i wanted to post a snip from this scene but everything leads into the next so, screw it. have the full scene of some 1920s mafiosos gettin their smooch on

Prohibition AU: 'the Family' members Aventurine Zeleno, enforcer, and Dr. Veritas Ratio, the organization's doctor and surgeon

“Well, Doc, this is your stop. I'll see ya to--” “Why don't you come in, and we'll have a nightcap?” Dr. Ratio had turned on his feel to face Aventurine abruptly, stopping the blonde man in his tracks. Aventurine blinked. “A nightcap?” A mischievous grin grew on Aventurine's face. “I thought you said alcohol before bed lowers one's sleep quality.”

Dr. Ratio closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “On occasion, it can be good to indulge a whim. Now, will you come in or not? I've something important I'd like to discuss with you."

It was Aventurine's turn to sigh. “You could've just led with that, you know.” He gestured to Ratio's front door. “Well, let's get inside. The wind around here will chap the skin right off your ass.”

“Crude,” Ratio muttered, unlocking the door and holding it open for Aventurine to step through. He shuddered once inside, the comparison of biting chill wind and pleasant, perfect-for-humans warm air a brief irritant.

Aventurine hummed in admiration. He turned in a circle on his heel, taking in the decor of the rooms visible from the three doors off the foyer. “Nice digs, Doc. You've got a nice eye for color.” He let Ratio take his coat and hat and hang them together with his own on the coat rack.

“This way. I've a carafe in the study.”

“After you,” Aventurine said cheerfully, curious as hell to see if his home study was just as meticulously tidy and organized as his office at the Family's headquarters. The house wasn't ostentatiously large, but it was well-decorated in deep hues and wood or gold trim. There were perhaps too many marble busts sitting around. Aventurine swore the eyes were following him.

He followed Ratio down a hallway to a cozy room lined with bookshelves. A pair of leather upholstered chairs sat facing each other, and it was for the tasteful glass-front cabinet that Ratio strode with almost desperate haste.

Aventurine watched him curiously, flipping a worry coin in his pocket. The good doctor seemed nervous about something, probably whatever it was he wanted to talk about. It was unsettling, to say the least, to see the paragon of pompous confidence rushing to pour them two glasses of jewel-like amber.

“Sit if you like,” Ratio said finally, handing Aventurine the small snifter glass of brandy.

Aventurine watched him, dual-toned eyes following him like spotlights. “I think it might be you that ought to sit, Doctor. You seem a bit frenzied.”

Dr. Ratio narrowed his eyes, but seated himself comfortably in one of the leather chairs. “I suppose I can admit the topic I wish to discuss is particularly upsetting.”

Aventurine sat on the arm of the chair, crossing a leg over his knee and considering the liquor in his glass. “A topic you've yet to broach. I think it might be hard to discuss something when one party doesn't know what it is.” He smiled, lips curling at the corners. “C'mon, Doc, let's air it all out and get it over with.”

“It's about that wretched spy.” Ratio's look hardened. “The one you've been dallying with.”

Aventurine frowned, despite the sweet fruity notes of the drink he sipped. “What's she done?”

“She's using you, Aventurine," Ratio hissed.

“What?” Aventurine began to laugh. “What is this? Are you jealous?”

“She's clearly a gold-digger, and she's aiming to drain you for everything you're worth.” Ratio stood and paced to the window.

“Well, that's going to take a considerable amount of effort, considering,” Aventurine said with a shrug. “But I think you're confusing something crucial here. There's nothing wrong with spending money on a dame I'm sweet on.”

“But is she sweet on you, is the question? She seems to ignore you unless she wants something, and every time I've been in her presence the only thing that spews out of that twisted little mouth is manipulation or abuse.”

Ratio shook his head and turned back from the window. Aventurine was watching the brandy swirl around in his glass, but staring through it with a stony look on his face.

“Is she ever kind to you?” Ratio whispered.

After a moment, Aventurine replied, “Does it matter?”

Ratio sputtered. “Wh-of course it matters!”

“Hm,” Aventurine said.

Ratio grabbed him by a shoulder, and shook him slightly. “Aventurine, look at me.” Aventurine dragged his oddly-hued eyes up to look at the doctor's face. The amount of hurt on that man's face seemed completely disproportional to what it ought to be, he thought.

“Do you think you don't deserve to have any kindness shown to you?”

Aventurine pressed his glass into Ratio's open hand and shook off the other, attempting to stand up. “I think I ought to go,” Aventurine mumbled.

Ratio shook his head and put the glass down. “If you're being mistreated, then why, for the love of God, do you stay?”

Aventurine stared at Ratio's collarbones, eyes unfocused. “Did you ever think, that maybe I knew what I was doing? That maybe this was a way to make someone happy and get rid of my assets at once?”

“Get rid of...?” Ratio whispered.

Aventurine smiled grimly, and tilted his head to meet Ratio's eyes. “The dead have no need for money, after all.”

A chunk of ice dropped into Ratio's stomach. He gripped Aventurine's shoulders suddenly. “Don't. Please.”

“You don't know what you're asking, Doc.” Aventurine tried to pry one of Ratio's hands from his shoulders, but his thin, card-sharking hands were magnitudes weaker than the robust doctor's. He sighed. “You might be sad for a little bit, but you'll get over it. It's not worth worrying about an IPC infiltrator, anyway.”

Ratio's hands loosened in shock. “The IPC?”

Aventurine grinned. “Had you guys fooled good, didn't I?” The grin faltered. “But as much as I'd love to tell them to get bent and join the Family for real, they've got my soul in their pockets and they're not going to let me go. So...” he tilted his head, glancing away. “There's only one other way out.”

Ratio shook his head, feeling dread grasping his chest. “There has to be something else that can be done. Sunday--”

“Would have me killed once I've revealed my origins. You should already know that.”

Ratio shook his head. “He can be compassionate when needs must. Ven, at least let me try, please.”

Aventurine looked up at him, curious at the impassioned whisper. “You're really going to bat for me here, Doc, even though you should be turning me in. ...Something I should know?” Was it just Ratio's deep-seated need to save everyone? The turmoil in those ruby eyes suggested there was more to it.

“Perhaps you should know, after all,” he murmured. “I've harbored this for far too long.” Nervous as he looked, Ratio didn't look away from him, but pinned him to the floor with the intensity of his gaze.

“Heh... Normally I can't get you to shut up,” Aventurine quipped, starting to feel nervous under the intense gaze, “but this is like pulling te--”

Aventurine's eyes widened in shock. Dr. Veritas Ratio had pulled him in close and pressed their lips together. He blinked slowly, trying to process. Ratio released him, only straying a few inches from his face.

“It matters to me how others treat you,” Ratio began in a whisper, “because I care for you, Aventurine Zeleno. Very deeply, and I have for quite some time.”

“Wow,” was all Aventurine could manage through the daze, still lost in the sensation of the doctor's plush lips against his own, the warmth of his chest through Aventurine's fine silk shirt. He knew he ought to be demanding explanation, but all he really wanted to do was pull Ratio back down for another of those mind-erasing kisses.

Ratio sighed briefly, moving his hands from Aventurine's shoulders to cup his face. “Is that all you've got to say to that?”

“Hmm, I think you kissed all the words out of my head, Ver,” Aventurine sighed.

In the back of his mind, he wondered when the last time Hannah had even kissed him was. Ratio had been right, about everything. He'd managed to convince himself he didn't care. He couldn't care, lest his entire scheme fall to ruin. Being cared for, touched gently and passionately like this... it had addicted him with a single touch. A warmth smoldered in his chest.

Ratio's cheeks were alight with a delicate blush. “That isn't physically possible,” he said gently, brushing a thumb over Aventurine's cheek.

“Sure it is,” Aventurine murmured. “You just gotta kiss 'em back into me.”

Ratio didn't need any encouragement; he immediately kissed Aventurine again, and again, not even pausing when he wound his arms around Aventurine's waist.

When they broke apart, Aventurine beamed at him. “Y'know, all these years I thought you hated my guts.”

Ratio reached to his forehead and brushed a strand of golden hair from his brows. He shook his head. “I may have gotten frustrated with you sometimes...oftentimes... and my feelings for you made it difficult to keep a...professional distance. Perhaps I overcorrected.”

“What, you wanted to kiss me so bad it made you a big meanie?”

A small smile curved Ratio's mouth, unable to keep a stoic front under the warmth of Aventurine's toothy grin and his own massive sense of relief at having his most agonizing secret revealed at last. “More or less. I do apologize for that.”

“You're adorable. C'mere," Aventurine giggled, tugging at his neck to pull him closer.

--

The first realisation Aventurine had upon waking was that there was a hand stroking his hair, and a bare chest beneath his head. He blinked his eyes open slowly. There was a book open at the same level as his face, held in Ratio's other hand.

He felt a chuckle beneath his ear.

“Good morning at last.”

Aventurine smiled, and then yawned. “Keep petting my hair like that, and I might just fall back asleep.”

“You could stand to catch up on your sleep, if I recall correctly.”

“Mm. Probably.” Aventurine shifted his hips to lay more comfortably, and tucked his ankle around Ratio's. “What time is it?”

“Just past eleven. I arranged for brunch to be ready in a half hour."

“Sounds good,” Aventurine murmured sleepily, and Ratio glanced back down at him with a fond look. Aventurine's eyes had drifted closed again under the gentle stroking, and it tugged at Ratio's heart. Best let him sleep until brunch, and I'll have it sent up, Ratio thought. Living a double life doesn't seem to afford one with much time to tend to oneself.

He sighed quietly to himself. What on earth was he going to be able to do to get Aventurine out of the IPC's clutches?