#all mixing and fighting in my poor brain

[the-words-we-sung]

Season 3 ending

So... It's been almost a week since the last episode, almost a week trying to wrap my head around the end of the show, trying to manage my feelings about it all.

It's hard to end up feeling the complete opposite of nearly everyone on my dash but I've come to terms with the fact that I didn't love the ending. I didn't love this last episode. (I shouldn't feel ashamed or weird for saying so but you guys loved it so much that I feel a bit like an outsider right now 😓)

I haven't been a fan of the show for as long as most of you, but it means so much to me. These characters carved a place in my heart and in my head, and they've made me happy for months now. They helped me get through some stuff, made me discover some amazing artists, meet even more amazing people through this fandom. And I loved the story. Even in its darkest, saddest parts, I loved it. I was invested.

I love Wilhelm and Simon, together and separately. They mean so much to me. And I loved season 1 and 2. It made me happy, and sad, and frustrated, and exalted. But overall, I trusted the show and I was not disappointed.

Season 3 was a lot. I liked the first 5 episodes. I can't say that I loved everything about them: I was not expecting things to get so hard for Simon, with no reprieve in sight. I was not worried about Wilmon being endgame (I know it was a big stress for the fandom but honestly I never doubted that they were endgame), but I was wondering how the show would go about tying all the knots it made (I should even say all the knots it added during this last season).

(Under a read more because it's a bit long and I don't want to bother those who don't wanna read more of my frustrated thoughts ^^')

And unfortunately the last episode was a huge let down for me. Yes, it's partly because nothing I was hoping for actually happened, but mostly, it's because the choices they made did not feel very satisfying to me: ⁕ Simon was barely there. We went from him being bullied online/offline non stop for 5 episodes to almost nothing. It makes 0 sense to me. ⁕ Kristina suddenly feeling better: she was having break down upon break down for an entire season, could barely look at her son or even just talk normally and all of a sudden she's back, smiling and agreeing to everything Wilhelm says? I'm sorry but I don't buy it? Where did this Kristina hid during the entire show? ⁕ Wilhelm deciding to not be king, talking for 3min to his parents about it, them agreeing and him running into the sunset with Simon. I'm sorry, what?? I love that they end up together of course, but it makes very little sense to me? It won't change any of the issues they had this season? They're still gonna be famous? And bullied online/offline? (Probably even more so now?). I'm not obviously saying that Wilhelm staying in line to become king was the only or the best solution, but I wanted more from this storyline. I wanted to believe it. And right now, what we got? It feels a bit cheap (and I feel bad for saying that because the ending was cute and romantic and all, but it felt too disconnected from the rest of the show for me ><)

And apart from these few points, the big issue I had with this episode was: The Angst. So that might be a me-problem, but it was too much for my poor little heart (I haven't rewatched the episode yet, and I'm not sure I'll be able to anytime soon ><). I spent like 40min of the episode with a huge knot in the stomach because the heartbreak between Simon and Wilhelm was too much to handle for me. I can see how it was beautifully made, that having lots of throwbacks to the previous seasons, the Wille song, all of that was great cinematography. But it was just too much for me. I got in the season spoiler-free but for this episode? During the lake scene I had to take a break and check online if they were actually endgame because it was starting to actually give me a stomachache. So yeah, this part might be me being too sensitive but I did not like that they made me see them fight for each other for 2 seasons and 5 episodes, but then just giving up for 40min before finally running back to each other during the last 10min. It was just too much sadness for me ><

So yeah, maybe my expectations were too high? But I feel sad, and kinda cheated. Too many things are left wide opened. Too many things make zero sense to me. And of course I'm happy we got our Wilmon endgame, but I'm less happy about how it happened.

It's a bit hard being on Tumblr right now and seeing everyone who thought it was the perfect episode >< And I don't want to "yuck anyone's yum" (as the saying goes), but I still wanna be able to share my thoughts! I probably won't write super angry/unhappy/complaining posts about the season/the finale, but I still wanna be able to chat about it. I did see some posts on my dash from people not being entirely satisfied with this ending so it's a bit comforting. And I hope we can share some nice headcanons, or just discussions about different plot points.

But yeah, I guess that's why I haven't really been active this week! Trying to get over the double heartbreak of the end of the show + being disappointed with the ending! I'm gonna come back though! I miss hanging out here, I just need to strengthen my heart a little bit more :p Gonna get back to writing about my thoughts episode by episode for this season (I can't promise I can rewatch the last one though 😖 It might take me a bit of time to get there). And I want to continue my song analysis of the show!! I'm not even done with season 2 yet, I have some work to do there ^^

So see you back here very soon 😘

[patchiko]

GIVE US MORE ABOUT NSFW AL JAYYY PLSSS

HRHSJSGAHS OKOK!!

NSFW Arkham Knight / Ak!Jason Todd !! <3

detailed smut !!

(wet dream, praise, soft sex 2 somewhat rough sex, not super long, , im so obsessed with his brain)

rq are open :3

‘tis under the cut!! :p

M’SO EXCITED TO WRITE MORE ABT HIM M’SHAKING AND THROWIFN UP

NGL, i think one of the only reason he would come to terms with liking someone is bc he had a wet dream…

listen,, 99% of his dreams are nightmares, and you just changed his fuckin statistics for the possibility to the 1% chance of him coming in his sleep and being able to rest well after.

he has mixed feeling abt this..

on one hand hes like ‘wow cool i get to sleep well,’ but on the other hands hes like staring at his boxers and hes like ‘but at what cost…’

but oh,, he just knew he was fucked when it first happened and he woke up

after many , many years of overthinking, and his mind not being able to shut up … the thing that made his ass get so quiet was a fuckin’ wet dream

uuhhggrr it was such a good one tooo (hes internally cringing so hard)

ONE hand in his hair, softly rubbing his scalp, the other massaging his shoulder to the base of his neck. Jason has both hands on your hips. Being so gentle yet passionate with each thrust, fighting back the nastiest sounds begging to leave his mouth. So he starts kissing you, open mouth kissing your jaw to just between where your neck and shoulders connect. The noises you start letting out make his breathing stutter for a second. His kissing gets more passionate, soft sucking at your skin, and he’s feverishly rubbing and grabbing at your hips.

The wet sounds of him fucking you get louder. Poor guy is just barely stopping himself from rutting into you. His strokes were slowly getting more rapid but nonetheless coordinated, hitting that spot that had you loudest. Jason was marginally coherent but he’s still trying his hardest to make you feel good. Your body returning the favor by squeezing him so lovingly and he just cant fight back the soft gasps he lets out in between his strokes. The wet sounds, the lewd noises, the details of your body and skin he felt every time he pushed into you. All of this just because of him, just for him? You babble to him how good he was doing, murmuring how good it feels between moans, and it has him gripping your hips.

JASONS rocking himself roughly into you, but its that ever so loving hand, still gently massaging his neck and scalp. That sensation has his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Soft curses leaving his mouth. He buries his face right next to your head and has to grab the bed sheets just for an last attempt to stay composed. But the moaning gets louder, and you don’t stop gently massaging his hair.

So he can’t stop the “mmh, mmh, mmh” ‘s leaving his mouth with every rapid push of himself. He can’t stop the way his hands trail down to your legs to spread you wider for him. Grabbing at your thighs as he fucks himself through.

N’ just as he cums with a breathy gasp, his eyelashes are fluttering and eyes rolling to the back of his head. Letting his body weight press onto you and closing his eyes shut, trying to control his stammered breaths,,

he fuckin’ wakes up..!

First thought was “what the fuck.”

genuinely startled, he doesn’t freak out bad but he like slowly reaches to touch his pillow.

his mind was so blank, couldn’t tell if it was because of the wet spot on his sweatpants or he was genuinely so stunned.

*hes like scratching his head and looking at his pants.*

hes goes to take a shower and his eyes are so blown out he looks like one of those cat memes

but his mind is soo quiet,,

in my brain at the very back of his mind he’s like ‘whys there so much of it.’ HSIGSISHSISHSIDHS HES COMPLETELY SERIOUS TOO???

he’s taking a shower and his brain, oddly, isn’t foggy, not dissociating, just feels so here.

which is horrible because that means he really has to directly face his feelings

KRILLING MYSELF WHY IS HEART TO HEART PLAYING WHILE I WRITE THIS???

heart to heart, heart to heart, heart to heart <3

Next time he sees you he feels so odd, he knows it a natural thing that can happen.. but it was so

djsksnkdnd

tingling under his skin sensation is yelling at him to leave, and he does.

hes cringing

he likes you…

he cringes harder

ghosts you for awhile

realistically doesn’t want anything like that to happen ANYTIME soon

but is it weird that he kinda wants it to happen at all?

MENTAL GYMNASTICS COMMENCE !!

but when he stops ghosting you for awhile, and comes back to see you still being just as patient as you were every time you saw him before,

arms always open for him, food waiting for him, a sweet smile. and with your own patience, his own patience begins to thin.

Everytime he leaves you its a little harder for him to not come back

that tingly feeling under his skin slowly becomes a craving for just your presence. thats all he wants.

he doesn’t need to fuck you when he just has your eyes on him.

“what you run from is what you end up chasing.”

live footage of arkham knights brain cells falling for u insta reel

TEEHEE i loved writing this it was so fun, rq/inbox is open !! feedback is always appreciated >:3

[cherryredstars]

HIII!! just wanna preface that i LOVE your blog and your fics are my fav!! ilysm

So i have a general fic idea abt which is mainly js a bunch of different aspects i want mushed up into one fic but imagine virgin!miguel and semi-experienced!reader, and this involves his underrated wristussy, so like reader is super horny and ALSO mixing sub!miguel and this fic where miguel has a lot…of yk, so basically virginsub!miguel with his wristussy, lots of cum, and a reader with a mission.

sorry ik this is literally a mash up of 20 different things and fics and it might not make any sense but ik your mind can create great things! thank you so much and ily! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Creampie, Loss of Virginity, Sub!Miguel

A/N: Thank you so much, lovie! Enjoy!!

Unedited

You would have never guessed.

To think the Miguel O'Hara had even less experience than you did was extremely surprising, yet completely satisfactory. It made you feel powerful, like you were slightly better than him. It fed something carnal in your brain, unlocking a hungry beast that was thirsting for more.

It made it easy to get Miguel under you, straddling his naked waist and teasing the tip of his twitchy, swollen cock with your warm hole. Having his breath seize in his throat as his hips tried to push up into you, seeking that undeniable pleasure that his body knew lay just between your parted legs. Something so close yet so painfully far away. It made you chuckle, seeing this big, strong man melt into a desperate mess under you with the slightest touch. All because his poor cock has never been choked by someone's warm walls before.

It's fascinating to watch, to study every jump of muscle as your hole parts to take him in. How his eyes roll and a look of desperate pain washes over his face as you take inch by inch of his cock until he's balls deep. Observing the way he whines at your moan as his cock twitches inside of you as the thick length tries to mold you to the shape of him. It's so delicious, especially when that's all it takes to break the poor hero.

You laugh meanly when you start moving, giddy when he starts to chase after your hole with no pattern. Sloppy, need-driven thrusts that don't completely align with your movements and make him whimper for more. Words escaping him until the only thing grounding him is the saturated image of him messily pumping his spent into your tight opening. Having it fill you so well that it ends up dripping around his dick and staining his balls. It has him drooling and pawing blindly at your skin.

It makes you puff at the stupid mutt under you, your hands grabbing his until you force them above his head. He tries to fight you- quite pathetically- as his mind screams at him to touch your skin in any place he can reach. You grunt as you have to readjust your hands, your thumb catching on an almost hollow spot just above the bone of his wrist. It catches you by surprised when he makes a tortured noise, body arching and lifting you up with him slightly. He makes the noise again when you're forced to tighten your grip on his wrists to keep you from falling off, your thumb pressing into the dented spot of his wrist.

Confused, you swipe your thumb over the area, understanding clicking in your brain when he whines and tries to twist away from you. A slow smirk covers your lips as you lean down to his ear, grinding your hips against him and ever so slowly swiping at the sensitive area.

"Miggy," You coo in a saccharine voice, "Are you okay? You seem flustered, baby."

Miguel pants, eyes lidded and his mind barely registering the words coming from your mouth. You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement before leaning back and taking one of his wrists with you. Your hips continue to buck against Miguel, letting his cock drag against your walls as your free hand comes to grip his chin. His eyes lock on your face, his lips parted in an attempt to get air into his lungs and let his pleasure escape in pitchy noises. You smile sweetly at him, bringing his wrist to your mouth and placing a small kiss to the small hole. Miguel lets out a noise that vaguely resembles a plea, and you hum against his skin in acknowledgement.

His eyes waver before focusing on your lips, eyes shiny with lust as he drowsily blinks. Your lips part slightly, your warm breath hitting his skin and causing his hips to buck up in anticipation. Your tongue pokes out, the tip of the muscle landing right beside the hollow, causing him to whine. You can't help the smile on your face as you give his cock a hard grind before pressing your tongue against his sensitive wrist.

Miguel's eyes roll back in seconds, a choked noise parting from his lips as his body quivers violently. You gasp as you feel him release inside of you, warmth rushing inside of you to the point that your lower half feels heavy. You desperately try to help him ride out the pleasure, moving your hips fast against him until your body gives out with it's own release. You slump into Miguel with a moan, your breath tickling his sweaty skin as you both calm down.

You can feel something warm and sticky beginning to slicken your thighs, but you simply sigh in content as you still hold Miguel's wrist to your mouth and give the hollow slow kitten licks. You giggle when you hear Miguel's breath hitch, his cock slowly chubbing up inside of you again.

You would never oppose a second round.

[oceaneyesinla]

17. "I hope you know that I'll never leave your side, even though you ate half of my pancakes earlier." "Hmm, I won't either, even though you take my clothes and never return them." with Bakugou please 💖

Em, thank you so much for sending in a request my sweet!!!!! i hope you enjoy <3

Part of my Fluff, Fluff and More Fluff Event - submissions still open!

Prompt 17: "I hope you know that I'll never leave your side, even though you ate half of my pancakes earlier." "Hmm, I won't either, even though you take my clothes and never return them."

Bakugo x gn!Reader, nickname 'sweetness' used, reader and Bakugo in their twenties

Divider by @/adornedwithlight

Promise for a Promise

Ow.

That’s your first conscious thought; the pain radiating through your abdomen. It’s more of a dull ache than anything, probably due to the painkillers you’re almost certain you’ve been given. You can feel their effect; you feel a little spaced out, and more than a little sleepy. There’s a warm hand in yours, though, so you force your eyes open. The palm resting on top of your hand is ever so slightly rough, and when you turn yours over and let your thumb drift gently over the knuckles, you feel that familiar scar.

Your lips are creeping up even before your eyes are open, and your smile only gets wider when you manage to focus on blonde hair and crimson eyes. Drugged as you are, it takes you a moment to process what you’re seeing, but when your brain catches up, your smile slips to a worried frown.

“Katsuki, you’re hurt! Are you okay?” There’s a bandage on his left cheek, and from the way he’s holding himself, you can tell he’s in pain; probably from some injury underneath the hoodie he’s wearing - one of your merch hoodies. The one you bought him as a joke but which quickly became his favourite thing to wear. 

The relief that was clear on his face when you opened your eyes morphs to incredulous rage, “You’re the one in a hospital bed and you’re asking me if I’m okay?! Dumbass!”

Back in high school, you would have believed his little outburst came from genuine anger, and you would have taken his reaction at face value. Now, you know better. You know every line on his face and every detail of his expression, and you would know his voice in a room of thousands. You can read him like a book, just like he can you.

Sliding your hand out of his, you reach up to cradle the cheek not covered in gauze. Your poor Katsuki - he must have been terrified. You can only remember flashes of the events that led to you being in this bed, but you’re certain Katsuki saw everything. The way he lets his face rest against your hand, and the fact he’s wearing that particular hoodie despite it being summer and plenty warm enough speaks volumes.

He visibly relaxes under your touch, shoulders slumping and a sigh escaping him. He meets your eyes, and you’re surprised to see the beginnings of tears welling on his lash line.

“You scared me, sweetness.” His hand comes up to cover your own, “Took Icy Hot twenty minutes to get to you.” A pause, a swallow, a single tear slipping down his cheek and landing on your finger, “Really thought I lost you there.”

Part of you wants to apologise; for getting hurt, for worrying him, but you know there’s no need. You both know the risks of being pro heroes, and you both accepted it a long time ago. This is the life you’ve chosen - all you can do is fight to come home to each other.

Instead, you decided to meet his vulnerability with reassurance. Wiping the tear track away with your thumb, you speak softly, “I hope you know I’ll never leave your side,” You can’t help the mischievous smile turning up your lips, “Even though you ate half of my pancakes earlier.”

The mix of comfort and humour works - a burst of laughter leaves him, and his eyes look a little brighter as he rolls them at your dramatics. You’re exaggerating a little - it was more like two, and it wasn’t so much stealing as it was you being too full to finish them off and sliding them onto his plate with your most charming smile. Potato, potahto - what matters is that Katsuki looks a little less haunted than he did a couple of minutes ago.

He sobers after a minute, though he’s still watching you with a soft smile. He wraps his hand around yours, lifting it to his lips so he can press a kiss to your knuckles, “I won’t either,” A promise for a promise, and your chest aches with the love you feel for him, “Even though you take my clothes and never return them.”It’s your turn to laugh now, and you don’t mind even when it aggravates whatever wounds you have. You launch your self-defense - you share a wardrobe, so technically you are returning them - and you fall back into your familiar rhythm. You’re both going to be okay, and you’ll both keep fighting to stay at each other’s side.

[thegnomelord]

Soap and #12 with cismale reader. I was thinking they have mutual feelings for each other but not in a relationship yet, and some obliviousness mixed in for drama lol

Sure mate, though it ended up more drama than oblivious idiots in love lol. Play the game HERE.

Prompt: "What, did you think all those times I kissed you were for shits and giggles?" "Let's be real, you had a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in public."

CW:NSFW, Sub Soap, Top male reader, back alley sex, semi-public sex, mild fighting, miscommunication, Soap being a jealous hoe(again)

You and Soap have a . . . thing. You're not quite sure what to call it; You're just comrades, friends, who go out for drinks after every mission and end up messily making out in the back of a bar only to get kicked out when you two inevitably get frisky and near an indecent exposure charge. But it's fine, because it gives you the excuse to go to base and fuck on the bed, or the floor, or the table, or against the wall, or any other semi-flat surface.

But you're just friends. . . or, that's what tell yourself every time your heart pitifully clenches in your chest when Soap smiles, when he laughs and pats your shoulder, when he moans your name so sweetly as you pound into him, when he looks at you as if his world starts and ends with you; because what would a bloke like Soap want with you other than sex? So you try to drown the ache for him by going out with other people, but it's never the same— not in the way they sound, in the way they move, in the way you feel.

Johnny, on the other hand, thinks you're his and his alone.

"I'm telling yea lads," Johnny says as he knocks back a beer, a lovey dovey look in his eyes like he's a lovesick puppy. "Ah've locked him down this time." He grins, and Ghost swears if he has to listen one more time about how big your cock is or how Johnny can still feel you from last time— he'll shoot you both.

"Uhuh," Gaz rolls his eyes, amused at his antics but also happy that he's finally found someone. "Yeah, su-" Something catches Gaz's eyes and he turns his head, the color draining from his face. "-ummmm."

Ghost's eyes quickly flicker over to where he's looking, "Look at that," Ghost gives a rough snort, "Locked your man down so good he's swappin' spit without you."

Soap's immediately sober as a nun, his neck audibly cracking when he swings around to look at you. The sight of you making out with a random girl across the bar has Soap's thoughts turning in his head like rusted cogs, the world almost slowing down to force him to feel all the emotions his brain spits out; Surprise comes first, like being drenched in ice cold water, disgust making his blood feel like tar at the thought of you touching someone else the same way you touch him, hot anger barreling straight through it to make fingers twitch for the trigger of a gun.

But it's the meek hurt that forces his legs to move, striding across the bar like he's on a war path. A rough hand on your shoulder makes you break off the kiss, your world spinning like a kaleidoscope from the booze and sudden force turning you around. Your eyes finally settle on familiar blue ones, but they're cold like the deepest part of the arctic. "Johnny?" You ask.

His name on your lips only makes his scowl deeper, a bruising grip on your arm as he tugs you, "We need tae talk," He spits, glaring at the poor girl you'd been making out with like she's riddled with plague.

You're not given even a second to argue before he's yanking you out the back exit into the alley between the bar and another building. A second later he's roughly slamming you into the brick wall, knocking the breath out of your lungs with a forearm against your throat and ignoring as you choke softly. "Thae fock's wrong wit' yea!" He snarls into your face, more animal than man.

Rapidly depleting oxygen forces your brain to flood your veins with adrenaline and suddenly you're moving, harshly elbowing him in the stomach and ramming him into the stone wall behind him you swear the rock cracks. "Me? What's wrong with you?"

He tries to push against you, your arms scrambling for a solid hold until you end up in a stand still, "What's wrong-" He shoves his face into yours, nearly breaking your nose while hissing like a feral cat, "-is thaet ye're shacking up with some tramp."

"So what!" You demand, a low grunt leaving your lips as you attempt to keep him pinned when he squirms like an eel, "We're just casual-" You force out those words, trying to ignore the stab to the chest your heart gives.

"Casual?" He scoffs and with a swift jerk of his head smashes his skull into yours. You stumble away, black spots dancing in your vision and that's all he needs to grab and switch your positions, pinning you to the wall. "What? D'yea think all those times I kissed you were for shits and giggles?" He demands, a bit of a traitorous hurt making his his voice crack, face pinched in pain.

"Let's be real-" Copper and iron invade your tastebuds, drawing attention to the slow stream of blood trickling from your nose, "-you had a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in public."

You feel his body tense, but keep your eyes open as you expect him to punch you, to kick you, to do something to prove what you have is just temporary; pointless bliss.

"Then how'bout ah give yea a clearer message-" He leans in to lick trail of blood on your face before capturing your lips in a kiss that's more teeth than anything else. You wretch your hand free to tangle your fingers in his short hair, bodies fitting together like jigsaw pieces, reciprocating with just as much intensity as you bite his bottom lip until his blood floods your mouths. "Got it through yer thick skull now?" He asks, pulling back just a bit to stare into your eyes.

You don't know what 'it' is, but the kiss and the roughness makes heat burn through your veins, one quick flicker of your eyes confirming he's sporting the same problem in his pants as you are. "Think I'll need more convincing."

Soap yelps when you turn him around, pinning his chest to the cold wall as your hands slide down to his belt. You stall for a second to give him a way out, but he just growls, "Get on with it," So you quickly undo his pants, shoving his jeans and boxers just down beneath the swell of his arse.

"Slut," You chuckle when you catch sight of the black plug nestled between his cheeks, the skin near it still glistening with lube from how messily he'd prepped himself, "Needed me so bad did you?" You ask as you pull the plug out, putting it into your pocket as you push the head of your cock against his fluttering opening.

"'s cause ah love yea, fockin' git." He growls, his words making your brain crash.

"Repeat that," You say, softer, kinder than you usually operate, pressing against him until you're covering his back completely. "Say that again."

He notices your change, the ice in his eyes melting away enough to let him tug your head closer to kiss you, "I love you." The way he says it, like a prayer, like a sweet caress, has your heart melting into a puddle. A dingy back alley shouldn't be the place where you confess your love, but right now it feels like Paris.

"Love you too," You kiss him back and slide into him in one slow stroke, greedily swallowing down his sounds. You let him adjust before setting a hard pace like you know he loves, cock head scraping against his prostate with every thrust. "Really, really love you." You breathe out, watching his eyes lose focus as he lets out little 'ah, ah, ah's every time your hips meet.

"Bonnie, bonnie lad please-" He whines, resting his face against the dirty wall as he moans without shame, forgetting that anyone could walk in on you two and more than likely hear you across the single layer brick wall. "Fock, c'mon, give it to me."

"Yeah, gonna take care of you-" Your hand slides down to rub his cock, squeezing his base every time you bottom out and playing with his head when you draw your hips back so you can plunge back inside him, lust and love lighting up every synapse in your body. "Just say you love me again."

Johnny's eyes close as he falls into a barely comprehensible rambling of 'love you, love you, love you', his body shaking with a building heat in his stomach, precum rapidly lubing the glide of your hand as you fuck him in a harsh pace until with a sharp yell against his shoulder you cum inside him, Johnny following suit as he paints the dirty wall white with his cum.

You feel him collapse against you and have just enough strength left to support you both, though the wall does the brunt of the work. You breathe the same air as you try to get your bearings, both hearts beating in the same speed and rhythm, and Johnny whines when you attempt to shift, hole clenching greedily around you like his body doesn't want you to seperate.

"You know," You say when you've managed to catch your breath, nuzzling into the back of his neck, "There are easier ways to say you love me without biting my head off." You chuckle, as if your heart isn't beating a thousand miles per hour at the knowledge Soap loves you.

He swats at your head, "Oh awa' an bile yer heid." He growls such harsh words before kissing you softly, sharing a silent promise with you.

[rain-day-today]

One thing that really rots my brain is the idea of the guild during the og baby fairytail members time and the domesticity of it. Cause like no way was gramps letting a bunch of super powered ( and incredibly destructive) 7-14year olds out of his sight.

Just imagine:

Little Natsu and emo teen Laxus having breakfast while very quietly whispering about their respective hoards collections of cat theme things ( I KNOW LAXUS IS A SECRET CAT LOVER I JUST KNOW IT)

Tiny Gray having an emo phase. Mira (a punk 14 year old) helping him out (after teasing him of course). The two spending many hours and lots of jewel to find and look through dozens of fashion magazines. Eventually falling asleep sprawled on the floor in a nest of semi-laminated paper.

Tween Lissana and levy giggling over the kissy scenes in books and Erza overhearing them. Spitting out her cake into Laxus’s face which makes them burst out into full on cackling.

Little Cana teaching natsu to make card pyramids for 3 hours and when he finally gets it, Elfman knocks it over. Every one thinks Natsu is going to punch someone, but he doesn’t, instead he starts full on bawling. Nobody knows what to do. Little Natsu cannot be comforted. Levy shuts him up by shoving candy into his mouth while cana really quickly rebuilds the pyramid.

Erza and Mira having a dance off on some of the tables ( mira breaks 3 of them in half with her stomping, Erza somehow stabs one). This is how everyone finds out to never take either of them to parties cause they dance like the deaf baby of giraffes and a buffalo.

Gray and climbing a tree to the very top and forgetting that he doesn’t know how to get down? He stays there till the next morning and seethes for the next week cause LISSANA had to carry him down.

Natsu following Gray around like a lost puppy his first week cause “he’s friend sized” and what else was he supposed to do? He knows nothing! Dudes not even from this time period. At least if he follows loud stripper he knows he wont get run over by a car. Gray not noticing or caring that he is being followed cause little guy has his own problems to deal with and “as long as he doesn’t take my food or breath on me.”

Cana having a plague doctor mask that elfman bought for her 13th birthday. She wears it to scare the shit out of everyone at the sleepovers.

Weekly “sleepovers” in the guildhall because it’s easier to do gramps weekly count of them when they are all lined up in their my little pony sleeping bags (yes this includes laxus and mira)

When Romeo is born they have a guild wide contest on whose name he says first (the answer is his own cause the little dude is a true fairytail wizard)

Levy managing to give everyone a heart attack after casually admitting that she hasn’t slept or ate anything but crackers and coffee cause she was trying to teach herself the equivalent of ancient greek.

Laxus and gray not knowing how to hold a baby (romeo)

Natsu “teething” on Erza. Everyone stares in shock cause there’s just Erza sitting there stone faced in full armor while Natsu chops down on her arm like he has rabies. ( he still bites her even when they’re older if he’s really stressed)

Everyone having a default crush on laxus or Mira

The guild kids try to make homemade shaved ice with grays ice and end up covering the entire town with really weird ice sculptures

Mira scaring the shit out of kids with her demon souls during Halloween

Someone stealing Mira or Natsu’s food and ending up with a burn on their tounge followed by natsu trying to “kiss it better”

Levy dozing off on the rafters and falling down onto poor elfman

Spin the bottle but instead of kissing you fight (grays idea)

Laxus has a spray bottle filled with water mixed with really bad smelling cologne that he uses to spray people when they’re bad, like cats.

No one in the guild knew how to swim until they turned 16 Lissana still can’t swim.

Its really really common to see elfman or gray duck-taped to the wall (its levy who does it)

Dont fall asleep around teen Mira she will draw titties on your face. (Where do you think natsu got it from?)

They all took a living 101 class when lissana was 13. It failed miserably. Laxus ended up being the grandfather to 6 rats and 3 hamsters

Laxus takes Lissana and Elfman out for brunch once a month because it pisses mira off to no end.

Levy, Lissana, and Laxus accidentally forming an L name club and plan their “meetings” within earshot of Mira and Erza to make them jealous.

“We should get cookies!”-levy

“And ice cream!”- lissana

“(Super smug face) im craving strawberry cake.”-laxus

*sounds of Erza bursting into flames of jealousy*

[ofallthingsnasty]

capture kill

Pairing: M!Werewolf x F!Reader x M!Werewolf Tags:  teratophilia, yandere, dead dove: do not eat, noncon, abduction, (attempted) forced impregnation, creampies, chubby reader Word count: 3.8k Summary:  Two men are secretly fighting over you.

Unfortunately, you’re about to find out.

Note: This started out as some dialogue that popped into my head and it was a lot of fun to write out the dynamic between these two OCs! Please read the tags properly and enjoy. Requests are open!

You smell before you feel.

The air is ripe with motor oil and wood, just like your family's little shack during summer evenings. An almost musky note lies underneath, mixed with something metallic, rusty - old equipment, maybe? It’s quiet, the only thing you can hear is your own breathing, deep and constant. There is the occasional creak from the boards, expanding and moving against each other in the heat. The wall you're propped up against is hard but warm from the sun - it’s not a comfortable position and the moment you realize it, a familiar ache settles itself in your lower back, clearly a sign that you’ve spent a long time sitting like this.

Did you fall asleep hiding behind one of the shelves with a book in hand, enjoying a lazy summer evening? 

It wouldn’t be the first time: The shack is the only place where you can truly be all by yourself - without any disruptions from your family, without anyone asking for you, without any chatter and the constant clatter of dishes or the static of the tv. You’ve always liked to hole up right here, seated on a cushion and with some snacks in hand. You’ve spent many quaint evenings like this, forgetting the world around you.

There is only one problem: You don't live anywhere near your parents' house anymore. 

And you’re pretty sure that you were just enjoying your favorite iced drink at the cozy little café around the corner. The thought shocks you from the very last bits of sleep.

It’s dim around you. You can barely make out the rest of your body while an unnatural drowsiness still clings to your eyes - it seems to sit right on top of your lids, weighing down on them like a ton of bricks. You feel so incredibly groggy, as though you’d die if you didn’t fall back asleep this second. A small part of you fights against the feeling - it’s too easy, you think, to just simply give up. Something is off, something terrible churns your stomach around nothing but air.

Rolling up your head, you blink at the ceiling. 

Green eyes peer back at you, big and apologetic. They're lined by silvery-white fur, between them a muzzle. Too high above you to be a dog, too broad. The thing is bipedal - more bear in body than canine, with disgustingly big paws that look like they could rip you limb from limb. It eyes you with something akin to curiosity, intelligence clear as day in its gaze.

You blink again, brain trying to catch up with your eyes.

And then it speaks. Awful, garbled words. “I’m so sorry, darling.”

You can’t help but scream.

Or at least you try to, because your mouth won’t open. Your lips are held together by something hard and sticky - duct tape, your mind numbly supplies as if it’s of dire importance.

The thing looks stunned - panicked, even, as far as you can tell from its eyes widening at your muffled protests and your head wildly swinging around.

“Yeah, yeah you’re sorry”, another voice cuts in, only making you thrash around harder. “We get it, you’re trying to save the romantic atmosphere or some shit.”

It comes from the corner of the shack, where a shadowy mass stands, postured leisurely against the wall. It is dark - but there is no doubt that it looks just like the wolf-man in front of you. You feel like you’re hallucinating. As if being abducted wasn’t something out of your worst nightmares already - these animals are so bizarre, your poor brain doesn’t know what to do with all of this information.

“Well, how do you expect me to go about it?”, the one in front of you hisses back, eyes not leaving you for a second.

“It definitely helped the whole fighting thing, dumbass”, the other thing snickers and the wolf-man growls at the mocking tone. “I told you we should have just done the deed when she was out cold.”

The sentence confirms all of your worst fears. You whimper against your makeshift gag, trying to suppress tears. The thing gives you what you think is supposed to be a sympathetic look but it only looks ghoulish on its canine face.

“That’s barbaric”, it says, voice thick with disgust. “Yeah, and this right here is the height of chivalry and romance”, the dark one chortles. “As always, you’re a fucking hoot.”

“Shut up.”

“Well- I’m sure, the missus would like an explanation. So quit yapping and do your little monologue, will you?” “Fuck you.”

It gives the other an irrated look and then takes a step forward. You flinch away from it, only to meet the wall behind you. An attempt at raising your hands in defense is foiled thick rope binding them together - you can only cower behind your forearms, fingers swiping, gripping wildly through the air with what you hope is enough to keep it at bay. The wolf-man looks almost sad at your motion but doesn’t back off - those giant paws wrap themselves around your shoulder with surprising gentleness as it crouches down, completely disregard your attempts at scratching it. The thing holds your gaze with big, sad eyes and takes a stuttering breath. It seems to want to say something but isn’t able to - and the fingers on your shoulder tighten themselves into the fabric of your shirt.

Then it says your name- and chokes up. “I can’t-”, it grits out. “I can’t say it-” “You’ve been preparing your shitty talk all the way up here, grow some fucking balls.”

It whines in response, the sound high and miserable. “She’s going to hate me for this.”

“Oh my god, shut up, Evan!”, the dark one snarls again. “She’s gonna hate you either way, believe me.” Evan. The name rings a faint bell even in your panic-ridden brain. Evan. The baker from your favorite little shop a few minutes down - who has the same green eyes to match this thing. A couple years younger than you and so very sweet like the pastries he bakes - you can hardly believe he is this monster. But clear as day, in front of your own two eyes, the wolf responds to his name and has his eyes - even his blond hair sort of matches its coat, if you squint. You thrash in Evan’s grasp, thoughts rushing through your head. You feel like you’re dreaming and dying at the same time - that thing can’t possibly be a human - and this situation can’t be real, either. It’s all too much, too fast. You’re starting to feel faint.

“I-”

“Fine. I’ll do it myself, cuck.” The other steps forward and you get a better look at him, even through the black and green spots that are sprinkled all over your vision - his dark fur is peppered with silvery streaks, his muzzle turning white from age. One of his canines is chipped and makes him look roughed up, makes him look scarier than he already is.

"You see, sweetheart - me and Evan over here are quite… interested in you. Tried to settle this issue for weeks. But then our alpha stepped in and came up with", he waves his paw around as if to show you something, "this."

"And now we're gonna fuck you and see which one knocks you up first, hm?"

You lose it. Whimpering against the duct tape, you throw your legs around, desperate to fight them off. Some animalistic part of your brain supplies you with the thought that just trying to scream no, no, no against your gag might make them spare you, might make them go away. But Evan doesn’t let up, he keeps his hands on you, heavy and warm.

"You scared her, fucking asshole!", he snarls, teeth bared and fur raised.

“She wasn't gonna like this either way, boy. Some woo-woo words and a little sap won't make her fall for you immediately.”

You thrash around helplessly, efforts futile against the monster holding you down.

"You had the chance to ask her out every damn day when she took her pretty little face to your shop. And didn’t you follow her home sometimes?”, the other one snickers, clearly delighted in picking on his mate.

It makes you stop dead in your tracks and you look at Evan with wide eyes, scared. 

The darker one laughs. “Would you look at that. Did I tattle?”

By now Evan’s claws are buried in your shoulder. It hurts, even through the cotton of your t-shirt. Not even your whimpered protest seems to reach him. He looks positively murderous. “See, loverboy over here isn’t as innocent as he’d like you to think. Nasty little creeper, that one.”

“Shut up, Bill-”, Evan grits out.

Bill. Such a mundane name for a monster like him. Unlike Evan, it doesn’t ring a bell - but you’re sure he is a local just like the young bakery worker.

“That's enough”, Bill says, voice suddenly full of authority. “You’re only making this worse for her, boy.” The paw on your shoulder trembles. “At least let me go first.” His voice is nothing more than a whimper now, more reminiscent of a sad child than a fully grown man grotesquely stretched into the body of a wolf. He sounds absolutely pathetic like this and you’d pity him in any other situation.

Bill laughs, deep and ugly. It’s an almost dry chuckle that gets gradually louder. The atmosphere shifts to something more dangerous, more serious - gone is the playful teasing, now it sounds like he’s ready to rip Evan’s throat out with his bared fangs.

“I am your elder. I get to go first.”

Evan doesn’t respond. He just stares at your lap with an indecipherable expression.

“You hear me, boy? Hugh said this was the way to settle things. Trying to question your alpha?” The threat in his voice is clear. Evan finally opens his mouth. “No.”

“Good. Very good.”

He finally lets go of your shoulder and steps aside. Bill doesn’t waste any more time - you’re grabbed by your ankled and roughly pulled onto floor, helplessly flailing your bound hands through the air. He’s on you almost immediately, caging your head in with two thick arms. You can only stare up at him with pleading eyes, trying to beg him to stop with your expression alone.

“Sh, princess”, he says, almost gentle. He bows his head down and nudges the crown of your head. “I can play nice with you, you know? I just don’t like that little cuck over there”

His words do little to calm you. 

Whimpering against the tape, you let tears spill freely. You just want to be home, in your bed - just anywhere but not here. “It’s okay”, he murmurs and licks them away with his rough tongue. “You’ll be fine. You’re a little fighter, I know you are.”

A growl sounds from the corner but Bill isn’t fazed. He caresses your face with one clawed finger and crinkles his eyes at you. It’s another attempt at a soothing gesture, another one that doesn’t work.

“Poor thing, hm? Let’s get this over with.”

You can barely cry in protest before he rips your shirt open with sheer force, digs his claws into the cotton like it’s butter. Your skin prickles with fear as he eyes you, soft form and all, like the finest cut of meat he’s ever seen. Gone is that almost-warm expression, that deceptively gentle touch. He’s back to his snickering, old self. “Cute bra, baby. Too bad it has to go.” And with that, Bill slashes the straps and rips the band away. Your torso is completely bare in a matter of seconds, leaving you to shiver on the rough wood, the scraps of your shirt barely shielding your back from the ground.

Evan groans from his place and the sound curdles your stomach. 

“Just ignore him, baby”, Bill says and bares his teeth into a ghoulish smile above you. “He’ll have his turn but I’m gonna knock you up and keep you.” With another rip of elastic and cotton, he frees you from your pants. The floor is cold against your skin and you already can feel the splinters that are about to bury themselves into you - but it’s nothing compared to the terror awaiting you. “A little uncomfortable?”, he hums above you. “Sorry about that, babe. Gonna have to do for now.” He stuffs his whole snout into your bush and groans. The feeling is alien, his muzzle warm and wet and you shudder with it. “You smell divine.”

When he pulls back, his dick is unsheathed, hard already. He palms himself while he stares down at you, dark eyes enraptured by your form. 

“You’re just-”, he grunts. “About the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen-”

He pinches the fat of your belly with a surprising gentleness, the sting tender. 

“Look at you, all soft and round. So perfect for me.”

He leans over and kisses and bites your neck, your shoulder, even your jaw - gently, which only freaks you out more. He really won’t stop, will fuck you in a matter of minutes and you can’t do anything about it. You know you aren’t ready to take him and he is definitely bigger than average in this form. The dread that blooms in your stomach feels like a punch to your gut. 

“Deep breaths, princess”, he rasps above you, able to read every single thought that flits through your head in your terror-filled eyes. “Nothing much you can do now.”

As sick as it is, it rings true somewhere deep in your panic-riddled brain. Bill shuffles around a little bit, without ever breaking eye contact. There is a warmth that touches your leg and you know exactly what it is - his cock rests heavy and hot on your skin. Slightly wet with pre-cum, it twitches between your thighs. You barely dare to peek down, not wanting to see what is about to happen.

“I’m gonna enjoy this.” Bill groans, buries his muzzle in your shoulder and pushes himself into you. He is incredibly thick and it burns. The feeling is unlike anything you’ve experienced before - raw fear for your life leaves you dry and clenched uncomfortably around his dick, making him snarl and hiss above you. You can feel your own tightness around him and fold your bound hands into nothing, fingernails digging themselves into your palms.

If only you had something to grasp, to make this more bearable. The only thing you can do now is grit your teeth and take it.

“Oh shit, princess”, he sighs, completely blissed out and without any regard for your pain. To your surprise, he bottoms out slowly and waits for you to adjust - or at least what he thinks adjusting is. You're still not ready when he finally starts fucking you in earnest, slow and deep. 

"Fuck-", Bill grits out directly into your ear, his voice muffled. "You got the perfect cunt, baby. So fucking- tight."

You pay little mind to his words, too focused on the steady push and pull, on the dry stab of his cock.

“Knew it when I first saw you that you'd be perfect for me. And I'm gonna-”, he moans obscenely loud as your cunt flutters around him. “I’m gonna fuck you full of my pups- just wait-” The thought of being pregnant with this monster’s child almost makes you weep. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”, he groans, his pace picking up. “My cute little wife. That’s what you’ll be, princess.” The sentence earns him another threatening growl from Evan. He only laughs in response, deep and unspeakably ugly. “Yeah, you’ll be perfect-”, his hips crash into yours as he fucks you even faster, the sound vulgar and loud in the otherwise silent shack. “I’m gonna make sure that this little cuck will cry himself to sleep for the rest of his life. Gonna give you a bunch of brats-” It’s clear that he’s just rambling now, too entrenched in his own pleasure. But the thought still makes you still freeze in fear, the very possible future of being with his child terrifying. He’ll give you at least one, to claim you. Ruin you forever.

You clench around him in fear and he loses it - snarling, drooling and almost hollering above you, he fucks you so hard your head gets pushed into the wall again, every thrust bending your neck into an awkward angle.

You know he has to be close now and you’re grateful for it. One, two heartbeats pass as keeps pounding you so hard you know you’ll feel his dick in you for days to come.

“Oh- fuck”, he grits out as he buries himself into fully, the stretch making you bite your cheeks to bear the pain. “I’m gonna knock you up-” And then he’s spilling himself into you, the hot, wet feeling of his cum deep within you. Bill yelps and shouts as he empties himself into you, various curses and praise peppered in between the moans. It takes him a good minute to calm down again, to collect himself.

Still a little out of breath, he smiles down at you with almost sadistic glee as he licks the side of your sweaty face. “Come on, cuck. Time to get your sloppy seconds.” He’s on his legs in a heartbeat, still marveling at the mess he made just seconds ago. “You better do it quickly because my swimmers are already working their way up there”, Bill laughs and all but shoves Evan out of the way as he goes back to his place in the corner. “Have fun, boy.”

The younger man is by your side in an instant.

“It's okay, honey, it's okay”, he whispers, those big green eyes filled with tears. He tries to soothe you and strokes the top of your head but the gesture only freaks you out more. “This is all my fault, and I'm sorry, so sorry.”

The apology would have been a little more sincere if his dick wasn’t already poking your thigh.

“Oh, darling”, he sighs tearfully. “I’m so sorry it had to be like this- I just- ”, he starts but interrupts himself with a hiccup. “I swear, if I had talked to you sooner-” Not even the snicker from Bill’s corner can snap him out of it. “But I’m gonna make it right. You’ll see, I’m gonna make it up to you, darling”, he babbles on, his words only unsettling you more and more. “You’ll have to forgive me, yeah? You have to.”

He’s a goddamn lunatic. 

You can’t help but look back at the older man, almost wanting him to intervene. Before you can make any eye contact, you’re pushed into a hairy chest by a tight hug. “I promise. But first, we’re gonna get through this”, Evan rumbles out above you, making the dread flare up again.

He wastes no time after that. You’re freed from his arms and placed on the ground - gently, but with unsteady hands. He looks as though he’s drooling above you, parting your legs and sniffing your belly with anticipation. His cock seems to be a little smaller than Bill’s, but considerably thicker - it bobs up and down as he licks your stomach, your tits and your neck, his tongue almost shy.

At least Bill’s cum serves as a lubricant, you think, as sick as it is. “My pretty girl”, he hums. “And soon all mine.”

And indeed, the stretch is almost bearable as he enters you. You’re glad he doesn’t reach as deep as Bill does because the speed at which he fucks you is sloppy and fast from the start - he pushes into you with so much need and desperation it knocks the air out of your lungs with every thrust.

“I love you”, he moans. “And we’re gonna- we’re gonna spend our lives together, yeah? I’m gonna take such good care of you-”

He’s talking himself into a frenzy, his words nothing but the lovesick rambles of a freak - they just make you feel more hollow. “Really love you, angel- oh-”

His muzzle opens and he kisses you over the duct tape, tongue pressed against the plastic and spit sliding down to the sides of your face. He doesn't seem to mind, not with the way he moves his jaw against your taped mouth, frantic and uncoordinated. It’s disgusting.

Unable to move away, you can only press your eyes together and let it run down your skin.

“You’ll love me too, I know it. Just know it-”, he pushes your hands onto your chest as a leverage to go even faster. “We were made for each other.” “We’ll forget about this and live happily ever after.” Now he sounds completely delusional.

His twisted little fantasy of domestic life with you only spurs him on, his moans getting more choppy and broken with every slap of his hips against yours. He seems to be a quicker shot than the older man, too hung up on his bizarre dreams and hopes. You thank whatever godly entity out there for it.

“Fuck- darling, I think I’m about to-”, he whines but doesn’t get any further before his orgasm rips through him.

You’re a proper mess now. The second load of cum feels obscene within you, all warm and sticky as it spills out around his dick and onto your quivering thighs. He fucks into you for another few, sloppy thrusts before he stops to catch his breath. Evan looks so calm suddenly - gone are the tears, the shakiness. He gently kisses the top of your head, the gesture tender. 

“You lovebirds okay?”, Bill says, his voice suddenly quiet, higher.

Evan’s head snaps again, a weak growl telling the other to stop his teasing. You use the shift to peek up from underneath  him, curious as to what changed. A naked man stands in that same corner in Bill’s stead, smoking a cigarette without a care in the world. Salt and pepper hair is fluffed up on his head, slightly greasy - your tired eyes have seen him once, you’re sure of it. 

“Like what you’re seeing, babe?”, he grins and whistles out some smoke. 

“Leave her be, Bill. She deserves some peace now.” He barks out a laugh, then takes another drag from his cigarette. “Yeah, yeah. I hear you.” Finally, Evan pulls out, forcing out an obscene amount of cum and fluids out of your abused cunt as he withdraws. It lands on the floor beneath you unceremoniously, the noise sickening. He caresses your stomach before he gets up, already contemplating how you’ll look like swollen with his child. “We’ll have to wait a little but she’ll stink like one of us soon”, Bill snickers at the sight, one chipped tooth just as pronounced as it is in his wolf form. He pats Evan on the shoulder in an almost brotherly fashion, both too worn out to fight anymore. Bill stomps out the cigarette with another sigh and stretches as though he is simply a little tired from a long day. He grins before holding the door open, the world outside already dark.

“Don’t worry, princess. We’ll be back tomorrow morning to make it stick.”

End note: And? Who would you pick? Maybe even both? Do tell me 👀💕

[writingsofwesteros]

Back on my Viserys III shit and I can't help but revisit the thought of him forcing Daenerys to watch him pound the brain cells out of their pure sister (Aelyra from A Debt to Pay coded). Daenerys starts off angry and tries to fight him, only for it to end badly for her as she's forced to submit to him, especially once her sister starts pleading for Dany to let their brother take care of her the way only he knows how, crushing her sister's heart as she realizes this isn't their first time. Watching her sister spread her legs for Viserys and cling to him as he pummels her sopping wet pussy disgusts Daenerys... until she hears how into it their sweet sister is, the girl's almost animalistic moans and grunts strangely making Dany's own body heat up and she can feel her heartbeating in an unusual area.

The icing on the cake was their sister surprising all of them when she wrapped her legs around Viserys tightly before flipping them over with an almost supernatural ease and riding his dick furiously. Daenerys would laugh over the look on their brother's face, a mix of astonishment and adoration?, and the fact that he obviously came prematurely if she hadn't also creamed herself a little. Their sister just continues on as if she isn't using her intimidating older brother as a sex toy while their sister watches intensely, Viserys's cum driving itself deeper into her womb as she gets her fill from him. He just throws his head back and watches her like a goddess, his cock pulsing from the overstimulation and from the need to empty his balls again so quickly.

It's evident the show is coming to an end when the sister's hips start stuttering and she finally allows her body to hang back a bit, holding onto Viserys's shoulders while jackhammering his cock right into her g spot. Dany crawls a bit closer as this is happening and watches unblinking as her sister's streched little pussy gushes sweet nectar before it's tainted and mixes with their brother's creamy milk. Too enraptured with the sight, Dany is unaware of her naive sister asking Viserys to be nice and give Dany a taste of the pleasure he gives her...

Poor Dany never suspects that she'd be thrown to her hands and knees for her brother to roughly stuff his cock in her and hate fuck her in front of their innocent sister, the naive girl smiling when Daenerys accidentally moans to one of his particularly sharp thrusts. Viserys isn't happy about pleasuring his other sister, but if his darling asks (and he's in a good enough mood), he'll do it. Though Viserys makes it interesting by ordering his sweet girl to make their sister eat her pretty little pussy, the pleasured sounds coming out of Daenerys annoying him... especially since he was also enjoying fucking her, his "demonic" sister's tight cunt gripping him almost as tight as his darling's and her body actually being pleasing enough for him to come without their sweet sister's help

👑💀

Viserys deserves more love, bless him...poor baby boy really

Oh he would allow her to take control as well; his greedy hands grabbing at her as she comes apart

Alas, it is the most erotic sight as he watches her fall apart under Danny's tongue and he can find pleasure from that

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU ~ Part 4

He's Still in There: Part 2:

The second half is here. Addair is next. This is currently the longest chapter, and it might be for this entire mini-series. You'll notice I've experimented with my writing style here and there, but I hope you all still enjoy!

TW: Needle. Just one needle.

Part 5:

'Muir? I'm here.' The sound of heavy footsteps moved towards Innes, and the unmistakable silhouette came into view. 'Muir-' A tendril grabbed Innes' ankle and pulled him towards the centre of the deck, but it made sure he didn't collide with any dangerous equipment. He sheltered his face with crossed arms and waited until he came to a stop after nearly 5 seconds. Not much, but that's because you're not Innes, who was quiet frankly shitting himself. Giving himself a moment to process what had just happened, he lowered his arms, whilst Muir let him go, towering over him, casting a shadow.

The pair were silent. Their eyes locked. Muir's full of hurt. Innes' full of regret.

Sunil, McLurg and Dobbie peered through the container, then left their hiding position. They knew the fog would act as good enough cover, but they had to be quiet. Hard to do with metal practically everywhere. Every step and breath counts. Sunil lead and managed to get under a collapsed piece of the rig, but it wasn't big enough for all of them. It acted as a tunnel and you had to army crawl to move. McLurg and Dobbie stayed hidden behind a large stack of crates. Sunil crawled until he was somewhat out of hiding to observe.

'Innes...'

'Yeah, I'm here, mate.' Innes awkwardly stumbled to his feet, not taking his eyes off Muir. He was terrified and Muir knew that. He could hear his heartbeat. It hurt. Everything hurt. He couldn't describe or compare the pain. His mind was being pulled in all directions, and whenever he had a moment of clarity, there was a sudden pressure crushing his brain. Muir wanted to let go, but something deep down made him hold on. Fight through the pain.

'Why did you run?'

'I...I'm sorry, but I was scared and-'

'You left me!'

Tendrils suddenly shot out in all directions and Muir reared his head back, letting out an ear-piercing scream that turned into a wail. Innes stood still. Tears rolled down his face. The guilt washed over and consumed him. A lump in his throat formed. If he could turn back time, he would have stayed, but he panicked. No one could blame him. It was out of instinct.

He spotted Sunil out of the corner of his eye. Both exchanged a look before turning back to Muir, who's tendrils had now planted themselves across the deck in all directions. He hung his head in shame and wished to just disappear. Innes found the courage to move closer and place a hand on the hard-hat, making sure to not touch the flesh Just keep him focused.

'Hey. Remember that time you hit me?' Well, that caught Muir's attention. The look of pain turned into confusion, and he slightly raised his head. 'It was only your second week here and I had you carry the replacement scaffolding because I couldn't be fucking bothered. You didn't hear what I said and turned, and skelped me in the face. Gave me ten stitches and a reason to grow a beard.'

Sunil couldn't believe what he had just heard. His mouth was agape, brows furrowed and head tilted. McLurg mouthed 'what the fuck?' And poor Dobbie just had a look of defeat on his face and stared at the ground, expecting it to have the answers.

A chuckle. Then another. Soon it became a laugh. A mix of relief and the memory itself. Muir reared his head back again in laughter. The fog had been lifted. His mind was his own again. Still didn't stop the chronic pain shooting through his body or the fact he was now ironically half-blind, but that didn't matter. Whatever it was telling him to not give up worked.

'I say I did you a favour.'

The guilt left Innes. His posture relaxed, his heart rate calmed, and he smiled. He began to laugh along.

'Still a smart one, aren't ya?'

'Well, someone has to be.'

They continued to laugh until it hurt. All the years of smoking caused Innes to have a small coughing fit and Muir kept laughing until he had to stop. Neither of the men could describe how they felt. Relief? Happiness? No, it was something else but they couldn't put their finger on it, or they didn't want to admit it.

A tendril wrapped around Innes' waist. A hug from Muir. Innes returned the favour and hugged what he could of Muir's neck. Neither wanted to let each other go.

Sunil, McLurg and Dobbie left their hiding spots yet kept their distance. It was very obvious from their perspective how much the pair loved each other. Not their place to judge. They just wanted to go to Accommodation. It was the best place to find others. Kelly should still be in his room and Scooby did take off in that direction.

'Oi, Love Birds?!' McLurg really wanted to go to Accommodation. 'Can we go now-?'

Suddenly The Beria began to shake. The terrible sound of metal bending rang through their ears. Muir pulled the men towards him and used his body to act as a shield. His tendrils planted themselves firmly after one of his legs slipped and gave out. He moved to regain his footing, but his vision began to blur. After a moments panic, he felt a twitch in the back of his head. Something grappling to the back of his mind was slipping away, like a plug being removed from the socket. His sight quickly returned to normal when the feeling stopped.

He wasn't the only one. Trots, Gibbo and even Caz went through the same experience. The Shape that had been trying to lure them in was getting quieter. It's song fading.

The rig came to a halt.

'Right,' Innes said, catching his breath he had been holding for the last several seconds. He turned to Sunil, McLurg and Dobbie. 'You three go find the others. I'll stay here with Muir.' Because he was too big to fit inside, let alone get up the stairs. 'Just let them know we're out here getting the lift ready if we need it.' The lift was fine.

Despite the ribbon-like things blocking the doors and making themselves at home in the corridors, it was comforting to feel the warmth from the inside. They'd still be outside battling the rain and fog for hours. Of course they knew that, but it was still nice to feel the damp leave their uniform and they can literally hang up their hard-hats. Voices came from the crew lounge and they followed, happy to see just how many members were there in wait. However, McLurg couldn't help but give a look to Scooby, who hung his head and moved away from his window seat. McLurg was quick to take it.

Gibbo and Trots were the obvious standouts. To make room for them, especially Gibbo, all the tables and chairs were pushed to the side and the jukebox moved into the corridor. Roy sat in the corner injecting his much needed insulin into his arm. Trots was wearing his black polo jumper and gray trench coat whilst lighting another smoke for himself. Today was the perfect excuse to take up smoking for the first time in a decade. Raffs was shakily holding a coffee by the door. Brodie and Caz stood by Roy. The latter patted him on the shoulder and told him to rest.

Sunil did a quick head count. All of the deck crew were here, minus Innes and Muir. No Finlay, Roper, Davros, Archie and most of Engineering and Pontoons. Oh and Rennick. Still more than 70% of the staff were here. Dobbie rushed to Gibbo and began to ask a flurry of questions.

'You lot seen Innes and Muir?' Raffs asked Sunil, offering him the rest of his coffee, to which he refused.

'Still on the Deck. Muir has been infected, but he's fine. He's too big to fit inside, though. Where's everyone else?'

'Caz and I are going to get Archie then Roper,' Brodie explained as the pair went to leave. 'He called and said he's radioing for help but the power keeps dying. We lost Gregor. Don't know where anyone else is.'

Douglas, who was sat besides Kelly and had been explaining what he'd miss, overheard. 'I saw Finlay in Engineering. She might still be there helping O'Connor.'

'Why, what's going on down...' Caz's voice trailed off, whilst his eyes widened and everyone else mirrored his expression. The pieces slowly came together and the men all shared the same dread.

'...Shit.'

Innes sat on the container he used to hide from Muir. The fog lifted and snow began to fall. Fitting for Christmas. The weather out in the middle of the North Sea was unpredictable. One minute there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Give it an hour and hail could be bouncing off you. He lit a cigarette and sighed. He watched Muir 'sit' by tucking his legs under his body like a cat. A part of him wanted to laugh, but he didn't know if that would cause offence.

'How do you know what you're doing?'

'Eh...Good question. I actually don't know. I just knew this is how I sit now.'

Innes raised a brow and pursed his lips. 'And how does that make ye' feel?'

A pause. Muir didn't know. At least to some extent. He knew he wasn't 'human' anymore, but his mind was in tact, yet he knew how to work this mutation as if he has always been this way. He made a motion similar to a shrug. 'Weird. I'm gonna miss my hair.'

'I'm sure it'll grow back. Your beard's still kicking.'

'What, like Rennick is now?'

They shared a small laugh together, then fell quiet. Both looked out to the endless vastness the sea offered as a view. God how they both missed home. Remind me why they decided to work through Christmas? Because neither could remember. It wasn't for the money. Both just agreed after hearing that one or the other would be here. Wasn't the first time either. No, they knew why.

'What going to happen to me?' Because Muir didn't know. He knew he could never walk down a main road to do a daily shop or even enter a house anymore. It stung. Strange how the mundane was something to crave when you realise it's gone.

'I'm not sure.' Innes had to be honest. 'But I'll be with you.' He held out a hand and Muir accepted by gently wrapping a tendril for Innes to stroke with his thumb.

The sound of the catwalk above caught their attention. Caz and Brodie could be seen sprinting to Administration. The pair noticed them and stopped.

'You fellas alright?!' Caz called.

'We're fine. Where you two going?'

'To stop that Rennick bastard from taking off without us. Archie needs to get help, but he needs to know what's happening. Then we're gonna fetch Roper.'

'Good plan.'

'Oi, McLeary!' Muir called. 'Give Rennick a good kick up the arse.'

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

Thoughts on Jason Todd’s choice of weaponry?

:D an ask! Yay!

Oooh, lets see, I'll start with the crowbars because I appear to be like one of three people on the entire planet who actually likes them.

They're a tacky as fuck riff on the fact that Jason's death is central to his character. They overemphasize the manner in which he died, muddy the waters about what part of his death is important to him, and strangely cheapens the manner in which he died through the parody feel of it.

No one seems to really disagree with my analysis here, but I happen to enjoy that about them and think it's very on brand for Jason. What can I say? They're fun!

Best Quality - His Wiggles

This ultra-sharp curved blade used to be his signature character design feature, the way the white streak in his hair is now, and I'm really not sure why it didn't stick!

Best weapon he's ever had, bring it back please!!!!!

The All-Blades

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....

HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM...

I have mixed feelings about the All-Blades. Like much of Lobdell's work: phenomenal idea, poor execution. Giving the guy who is most known for being morally grey a set of powers that is exclusively based on moral absolutes sucks shit, I gotta be honest, and the trick he pulled on the blood blade was cool but ultimately does nothing to solve those problems.

HOWEVER

I want to love them so fucking badly. A set of glowy soul blades is a dope sicknasty off the chain concept and I wish the well wasn't poisoned with the moral implications and the restrictions to use them only on the "Untitled", a set of enemies that only exist for Jason so far as I can tell. If someone seriously took Jason down a magic based path that removed the DnD alignment chart bullshit, I would be so game to see them come back! Hell I wouldn't even insist on a better cooler design for them!

...though uh, yeah those are the least interesting magic sword designs I've ever seen tbh

Normal Ass Swords

They're alright I guess. Like, there's nothing in it really, but it's not bad?

Guns - Real Bullets

Excellent, evocative yet simple, straightforwards and to the point. It makes hella sense thematically to boot, love this for him, please give him back his pistols and miniguns and shit

Guns - Rubber Bullets

Hate. HATE. hate ick disgusting bad NO.

I just fucking hate rubber bullets, like, as a concept. I refuse to accept "non-lethal" bullets as a valid use of gun, either in real life or in fiction. Guns are for putting many holes in things very fast!!!! If you're gonna use a gun, fucking well own up to that!!! Do not play this silly ass game of pretending that you can change out the material and do the same things as with lead bullets but with the video game status effect of "non-lethal" applied. YOU ARE GIVING PEOPLE SMALL CIRCULAR BRUISES. This is still harmful, yes, ooph ouchie, but it is not even slightly a good use of a gun, you are wasting holster space, and carry weight, and the physical materials used to make it all!!

JUST USE A FUCKING STICK! YOU DON'T RUN OUT OF STICK AMMO!

My belief in his capacity to take out enemies is shattered the instant those fuckers are on panel. Maybe this ain't entirely rational, or realistic to how fights go with rubber bullets IRL, but I hate them so much on principle that I will ignore any counterargument you might have that they'd work. I will die on this hill. Rubber bullets BAD. Please stop making him use this!!

Bombs

Love it, give him more bombs forever

ka-BOOM!!!!

His Brain

This is actually his best weapon - sorry wiggly knife, you're being shunted down to number 2 on a last minute technicality! I think Jason is at his best when he's outsmarting people and making long term fucked up schemes to ruin people's lives.

He's so good at it! It's so fun to watch him do it!

Genuinely a shame that this facet of him was mostly lost after Flashpoint, though to give credit where it is due, in Rebirth Jason did ruin the Penguin's life in an impressively elaborate way, which I did really enjoy. I want to see him be a tactical deliberate menace to one person in specific again idk, that's part of why I do kinda agree that he works better as an antagonist than a protagonist - which it should be noted does not mean I think he works better as a villain necessarily, his ethics aren't what matter here - he's just had his best moments as the schemer, and it's hard to have a protagonist schemer even when you make them ethically the good guy.

I hope you enjoyed my nattering on about Jason's weapons :D thank ye again for ask!

[marcysgf]

attention.

★ – satoru wants your attention ;)

18+, mdni !!

☆ – this is my first time writing smut, sorry if it's bad :p pluzzz english is not my first language !

– ★ –

you knew you should've known better than to invite your friends to go out with you. not that they were bad or something, much the contrary. it's just that you knew he would come along, he always did. even after you broke up, a few months ago, he'd still make sure to go to every party you've been thinking about going to.

if it was just him being there, it'd be completely alright, you weren't children and could stay at the same room for a few hours without fighting. it would all be perfectly fine if satoru wasn't an attention seeker, doing his best to catch your attention and even ruining your potential dates.

it was always the same: every time a guy would even try to even look at you or try to approach you, he'd just wrap his arm around your waist in a possessive way while staring directly at the guy, or he'd just kiss the first person he saw in front of you, just to see if it'd bother you. it always did, even though you'd rather die than admit it. and, unfortunately for you, tonight was not different.

you were laughing at a joke a guy had just told you, a margarita in one hand while the other one landed on his large arm, a small smirk on your lips as you watched him practically eye fucking you. if you were lucky enough, you'd end up having more fun than planned at the end of the night. but, of course, all your plans were ruined again as soon as the white haired man came in scene.

“princess, you said you'd only get some drinks and come back, why are you taking so long?” his whiny voice echoed in your ears as his face approached your neck, leaving a wet kiss on it while his long arms snaked around your waist, pulling your body closer to his. “oh, and who would that be?”

you gritted your teeth in annoyance at the man behind you, holding the urge to punch him right in face. you could feel the smirk in his voice as he stared at the poor guy, who watched the scene with a confused expression. “oh baby, is this guy bothering you? knew i shouldn't have left you alone, now everyone thinks they could talk to such a pretty thing like ya. now, buddy, will ya excuse us? need to have my girlfriend back.”

“satoru, fuck off. we already broke up months ago, stop acting like we're together.” you protested, trying to leave his embrace but he only tightened it, squeezing your waist.

“umm, sorry, i should leave now.” the guy said sheepishly, his face beet red as he quickly left the two of you alone.

and you just sat there in disbelief, your hand gripping the cup so tightly you thought it might break at any moment. gojo laughed childishly, making your even more angrier as you slapped his arm, rolling your eyes as he whined in your ear, telling you how mean you are.

“satoru, what in the fucking hell is wrong with you?!”

“what? can't i protect what's mine?” he answered simply, leaving a playful bite at your earlobe.

“i'm not yours and you know that damn well. stop acting like an asshole every time we go out!”

“is that so?” he smirked again, letting go of your body just to stand in front of you. his large hand carefully held your chin as it pulled you closer to his face, the delicious mix of his expensive cologne and the smell of the alcohol on his breath invading your nose. “if you hate it so much, why do you keep inviting me, baby? hm? hoping to wake up in my bed again?”

“fuck you, satoru.” you harshly reply, wanting to leave him alone but not being able to move a single muscle, your own body betraying you. your eyes flick to his rosy lips, then back to his blue eyes again. ignoring the way your brain yelled at you to stop, your body moved closer to his, your lips softly brushing against his before closing the gap, a quiet moan leaving both your mouths at the contact.

and that is how you ended up in this situation: your legs thrown over his shoulders as his hips hit the back of your thighs repeatedly, the loud sound of slapping skin echoing through his room. satoru's grip on your plush thighs were almost bruising the skin as his cock bullied the inside of your pussy, his tip kissing all the right spots with every thrust.

“fuck, baby, you're so hot.” he managed to say between his moans “missed– fuck– missed your pretty pussy... always take me so well.”

you moan loudly at his raspy voice, your pussy clenching hard around his dick as your hand sneaked between your legs to rub quick circles on your clit. it's barely been five minutes and you could already feel the knot tightening inside your stomach, your legs shaking lightly. and, of course, satoru noticed, how could he not when it was so hard to move when your pussy was squeezing his dick so much?

“gonna cum, pretty girl?” he smirk, his hand replacing your on your throbbing clit. “just f'me, right? you're all mine. bet that guy wouldn't even be able to satisfy you, you'd probably leave unsatisfied and come back to me, huh.”

“fuck, 'toru, just like that.” your moans are like music to his ears, and he makes sure to get them out of you with every move of his hips. your hands massaged your boobs through the lacy bra, pinching your sensitive nipples as you feel his cock massaging repeatedly your g-spot. your high came shortly after a few strokes of his, your whole body shaking in pleasure.

you whine loudly at the overstimulation, his cock never leaving your sensitive cunt, fucking it mercilessly. satoru groaned in your neck, biting it hard while he came inside you, his thrusts slowing down and becoming sloppier, his sticky cum painting your insides, as he was making a mess because he wouldn't stop even after cumming.

“t-toru, ah... too much, baby” he laughed quietly at your whiny voice, finally stopping the attack on your pussy. he slowly pulled back, his now soft dick leaving your warm cunt as he smiled at the mess he made.

“hmm, would've ruined your date earlier if i knew i could get to fuck you like this.” he joked while teasing your sensitive entrance with his long fingers, watching you shudder. he then kneeled down in front of you, his mouth leaving a wet kiss on your clit. “we're not done yet, pretty, need to make up for the time we lost.”

[riongeee]

I’m sorry you have sprung me back into my mild interest in Sebek. I’m sorry I have to dump my ideas here

Your recent post has reminded me of how I feel about Sebek and the Dia 3. I might be wrong, because tbh I’m not that good as social situations so if I’m wrong correct me.

So, we know that Dia3 are like a little family, so he’s always somewhat out of place. Like to me, he comes off to Lilia as a “Bauls Grandson/Silvers Friend” and Malleus as “Silvers friend/Guard.” He feels a bit different than how they treat each other.

It’s weird, as he’s, like acknowledged, but not really ever that close to the others like they are to each other.

For Lilia, it feels odd but natural, as it seems like he just really pranks him, but he does, in my opinion, acknowledge him as his own kind of dude, though their relationship isn’t really son father like Silver and Lilia, but he’s still treated (mildly-) like a friend. Like how your friends parents treat you, where they’ll take care of you but you’ll never be as close? It’s a bit weird, because someone (other Sebek Zigvolt blog) mentioned that Lilia might’ve only convinced/was convinced by the fact that Baul is his old friend and Sebek was friends with Silver, and not the fact that Sebek stood out on his own, which would suck for Sebek.

For Malleus, It’s even weirder, but the best I’ll say is it’s like a younger sibling trying to praise the older one that is his idol, even though I’m pretty sure Malleus mainly views Sebek as a guard and Silvers friend, but I can’t make a really big opinion since most interactions are just Sebek praising him. (From what I’ve seen) It just feels like Malleus is close yes, but not really, as he more or less views him as a “younger brothers friend” vibe to me.

Silver is the closest, and to me they’re like brother and younger brother. They’re close, but constantly fight, (it’s one sided lol, Sebek views him as a rival, while Silver is just like “chill.”) and it’s actually kinda sad, because it feels like Sebek tries to be better than him to prove himself, but always loses. (Expect in height. He wins that one.)

On that last point, I think (read somewhere) that he’s a late bloomer, so for some reason, I headcanonned that Sebek is so spiteful, because of Silver always coming before him. Because hear me out, Silver is a human, and Sebek is half, and they lived in a place that despised the both of them. The “shame” he must feel when the human gained his powers and abilities over him while they lived there (I’m pretty sure Silver gained his power when young) because at least Sebek is half fae, and somehow always got beaten by a human. Like imagine how much he got bullied for it over the fact that he’s probably bullied for being mixed. Poor boy.

Anyways thanks for letting me have my thoughts I’ll probably make them all in one blog post later but thanks.

P.S. His own Wiki insults him, I just want to give this guy a hug.

“A livewire who, in his zealous eagerness to be a retainer worthy of the great Malleus, often expends a great deal of energy to accomplish very little.”

Anyways thanks bye

Omg, your ideas? Beautiful. Your brain? Massive.

I swear people don't get how much I like Sebek as a character/just Sebek.

What you said sums up so much of what I think is the issue(not really but kinda) with Diasomnia dynamics.

I just want to add on a few more of my little brain worms to this. Sebek treats him being around Malleus like a job, which I think really inhibits how close he can get with Dia 3. They all see eachother as family and treat eachother accordingly, yet Sebek always mentions how he will be/is Malleus' guard.

I feel like it really sets a boundary that Diasomnia don't really try cross. Which is really interesting because there's something to be said about Sebeks insecurities on being half human and feeling less than as a result. So he subconsciously doesn't let the Dia 3 in.

As for the Dia 3 themselves, what you said pretty much sums up my thoughts too :')

Lillia is distant and only took him in due to Baul and treats him warmly but not 'family warm'.

Malleus is nice enough but as you said distanced due to their positions. Which is probably sad for Sebek to watch Silver despite also being a future guard being treated more warmly. I see Malleus as more of an 'older cousin who hangs out with the older kids instead of you' vibe idk.

Silver is nice. However, he doesn't understand what Sebek is feeling so he can't help really. The comparisons between him and Sebek must also drive a really big wedge in the potential for a closer relationship.

Overall, it leads back to the main issue in which Sebek is treated like an outsider by people who are dear to him. Exacerbated by already feeling like an outsider due to being only half fae.

Lastly, my personal closing thoughts, I really dislike when people boil down Sebeks character to 'loud, shouty dude' and say that's why he's not close to Diasomnia. (Also, the wiki insulting Sebek is actually devastating, Sebek support groups need to rectify this for the poor guy).

[invaderzia1]

Horns (Wyll x Tiefling!Reader)

After breaking his promise to Mizora, Wyll navigates life as a brand new Tiefling. Luckily for him, he has support in his tiefling friends.

yes I’m aware the game isn’t out yet but I really liked that scene with Wyll and Mizora. Also this is set in act 1

Since disobeying Mizora, Wyll had been rather moody. Nobody could really blame him, not after the way she stormed into their camp and basically turned him into a tiefling, laughing about how some magic even she can’t fix. She left him with rather hefty horns on his head, leaving him to figure out how to navigate life with them by himself and laughing about how it’ll affect his reputation as the blade. So nobody was surprised when the heavy horns caused Wyll to struggle with his balance and maneuvering through his recent days, but they rather kept to themselves, all having other things to deal with then offer support to the poor man.

Except, you had been watching him. You had always found him quite charming and handsome, it honestly made you quite glad that he accepted traveling with you and the rest of your companions.

It had been a week since the incident and you’ve kept a close eye on Wyll, giving him space to process everything. But being a tiefling yourself, you couldn’t help but notice the lack of care he is giving his new horns. You knew what happened when people didn’t take care of them correctly, having suffered the consequences of failing to properly take care of your own.

Wyll is stood by the river near camp, having finished cleaning himself and getting ready to join the others for whatever food Gale decided to cook up. He barely even notices you sneak up behind him, too busy staring at himself in the reflection of the lake, still not used to his visual changes.

“You know, you gotta take care of them.” Your voice startled Wyll, causing him to jump slightly before turning to look at you. “Can’t just pretend they aren’t there or they’ll grow weird or get too brittle.” You moved closer to him, trying yo be cautious around him while assessing his new horns. “Kind of hard to tell right now what they’ll do, but I have some extra things if you need them.”

“What?” Wyll says in disbelief, almost self conscious about you having noticed how poor he’s cared for them the past couple days.

“If you don’t take care of them they might start grow weird.” You walk over, trying to get a better look at how his horns seems to be growing. “Or, they’ll become brittle and start to chip off.” Reaching up, you cautiously bring your hand to his right horn, but refusing to touch it until Wyll gave consent.

It takes Wyll a few seconds of going through his emotions before he leans his head down, letting you touch his horns. Your hands touch softly against it, standing on your top toes to get a better look at where they meld into his head. Then moving to look at the sharp tip of the horn.

“Hmmmm,” you let your feet fall flat again, letting go of Wyll, “I have an extra pad to smooth it down. They look healthy, but you are going to have to be careful of them getting over grown.”

“Like a sheep?” His voice comes out as a mix of surprise and disbelief, raising an octave.

“Yes,” you smile, finding it a little funny how that’s the only comparison he could think of, “like a sheep.”

He makes a noise of annoyance, accompanied by the sound of your laugh. As he looks up at you, he takes notice of your broken horn, recalling Karlach also has a similar situation. It feels rude to just ask, but he feels the situation permits it.

“May I ask what happened to your horn?” Wyll nods his head to your broken horn, instinctively your hand goes up to touch the nub.

“Oh this old thing,” you start, laughing a bjt to yourself as the memory surfaces in your brain, “fun story actually, when I first started traveling I didn’t have enough money to keep my usual tools with me. So I went without taking care of them. Ended up in a fight against a lone gnoll, thing got a good grip on my head and just took the rest of my horn off.” You can’t help but laugh, knowing to everyone else that seems wildly traumatic, but so much time has passed that you feel disconnected from it. “Luckily, I was able to even the score. We both left that fight pretty fucked up.” Your hand falls to the necklace around your throat, decorated with teeth that Wyll is now able to identify as gnoll.

Wyll’s mouth drops horrified for a brief second, then letting air escape his nose as he starts to laugh. It’s a weird and fucked up thing to bond over, but for the two it seems to work. As the laughter dies down, you put a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait here, I’ll go grab my bag and help you with them.” You say, then running back towards camp, leaving Wyll slightly flustered by your kindness.

You rush back, a brown bag tightly held in your hands as you come back. You gently lead Wyll to a large rock by the water, patting it for him to sit down, which he does. Placing the bag next to him, you jump onto the rock and kneel behind him, just like your parents used to do for you when you were young. Reaching into the bag, you pull a small vial of a yellowish liquid and a round brown pad.

“Alright, now this is horn polish, you can find it in most market places or you can make your own.” Your hand snakes over his shoulder, showing him the vial. “It goes on before you use this,” your other hand goes over his other shoulder, reveal the coarse rough pad of material. “This will help you buff out your horns and keep them looking smooth.”

Your hands disappear behind him, he can hear the vial open behind him and then feels your hands softly applying some of the liquid to his horns. You take great care in making sure you cover all of them, then wiping your hands off on your bag.

“This is going to feel kind of weird the first couple times, but it’ll get better, I promise,” you warn him, giving him a few seconds to brace himself.

The feeling of the rough pad against his horns is awkward and uncomfortable, almost like hearing nails on a chalk board. Wylls teeth grit together as he clenches his hand together, trying to brace himself as you go to work. He feels your body get closer to him, trying your best to comfort him while using both hands on his horns. You try your best to be both thorough while going quickly, recalling how much you hated this when you were a kid. To try and distract him, you opt to speak.

“When I was a kid, my dad used to help me with my horns. He was always better at this part than my mom,” you admit. “I used to start crying when she would do my horns for me because she was so rough with it. If I saw her with the pad in her hand I would immediately start crying and run off, trying to hide. She’d always find me though.”

“Really?” Wyll chuckles.

“Yeah. Looking back, I feel kind of bad about the trouble I gave her when she was just trying to help me. But at the time it seemed like a reasonable response.”

Wyll and your laughter blend together, the mood becoming more light as you continue to work on his horns. He starts to tell you small bits of his teen years, talking about the trouble he used to get in.

“Alright, now that we are done with this part, it’s time to move on to the finish touch,” your voice announces, slowly putting the used product back into the bag. You pull out another bottle, this one looking more clear than the polish, but a thicker consistency. Your hand rests on his shoulder, leaning over as you show him the bottle more. Wyll feels his heart rate pick up feeling you this close to him, but watches as you start to explain this product. “This is your last step, it’s a protective coating to keep your horns shiny and helps strengthen the keratin.”

“So, I just slather it on them?” Wylls face turns slightly to look at yours.

“Yeah, you don’t need much either, it spreads like crazy.” You lean back, popping the bottle open and reaching up to his horns again.

Slowly, your hands start to rub the oil onto his horns, being as gentle and smooth as possible. It grows quiet as you concentrate on keeping the oil only on his horns and making sure it’s spread as thin as it can be. Wyll, on the other hand, grows quiet as he enjoys the intimate position you are in. It’s been years since he’s felt this close to another person, having spent years to following Mizora closely. He allows himself to drift closer to your touch, feeling more at ease now than he has the past couple weeks, possibly even the past couple years.

“And that should do it,” you reach down and wipe off your hands on your bag. Wyll snaps back to reality, giving some space between you. You smile softly down at him, then gesturing from him to look at himself in the lake.

Wyll stands up and takes a few steps, looking down at his reflection and seeing how nice his horns now looked. Moonlight now illuminated them from the shine, its a small change but it makes him feel warm. It’s the first time since becoming part infernal that he’s felt content with his new appearance.

Wyll looks back up at you, still looking amazed by the work you had done. He takes a step closer, putting a hand on your shoulder as he speaks.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, I know it’s been tough for you.” You smile softly at him.

Wyll moves closer, as if he wants to lean closer. You prepare yourself for him to do so, your body leaning closer to his until a loud voice interrupts the both of you.

“Are you two done down there or should we just eat without you?” You both hear Gale ask, followed by comments from Shadowheart and Astarion that you most certainly don’t need to hear to know that its innappropriate.

Now both your cheeks flush red, flustered by being caught by the rest of the group. As you hear Astarion make one more comment, you start running up the hill and threatening to grab your a stake for him. Wyll just stands there, watching you as you start to argue with Astarion, hearing Shadowheart and Karlach laugh at the display. His heart fills with warmth as he looks back at his reflection in the lake, seeing the way his horns now shine with the moonlight. Grabbing your bag, he slowly makes his way back to camp.

[k2ntoss]

Can I request Jason blurb with the last prompt from the list of jealousy over a crush prompt please? The prompt is too long for me to remember so sorry that I make you look it up 😭

no need to be sorry, my dear, i already did this prompt here BUT i have a new idea going brrrr on my head so i really hope you enjoy it, love

"if you're so worried that someone will snatch me up, why don't you just confess to me right now?"

this is not your usual friday night, today you've pulled your best friend to a club with you but who can blame you? it was reggeaton night and your blood couldn't help it, the bass of the music made your whole body tremble and you could see a lot of people dancing around you, bodies pressed and sensual moves that the music made even better because of how well it mixed. pulling jason by the hand you make your way to the bar, in the years you've been in college you learned to love this kind of music because of a few friends and you even learned a fair level of spanish to sing your lungs out with your favorite songs.

"i swear i don't know how i let you do this to me" jason says with an amused smirk when he sees you looking around with the excitement of a kid on the toy island from the super, he hands you a glass of whatever he ordered while he sips from a beer can "maybe because you love me with your whole heart and you'll go to the end of the world for me" and he can't help but chuckle even if he knows you're damn right because jason is neck deep into you, he'll do anything if you asked him to so here he is but hey, the guy has limits so when you look at him and then at the place where everybody is dancing he shakes his head.

"maybe not to the end of the world, babydoll" jason leans against the bar, his arms flexed making him look bigger and your brain is filled with how much you would like to be dancing with jason, your arms around his neck and his hands on your hips while your bodies are pressed so close you're about to melt into each another but you only pout "you're boring, jay..." but your mood shifts when the speakers go silent right before your favorite song sounds and your pleading eyes are calling him, telling jason to give in but he's a bit too proud and he also knows that as soon as you strat swinging yoir hips in front of him it will be hard for him to hold back.

his denial makes you turn around and you thank heavens because there's a group of your college friends in a corner so you run there, not wasting any other second you're dancing with them while jason watches at a safe distance because he swears that the way you swirl around, with your hands moving so sensually over your body is making him feel things. you sip from your glass and smile when your friends are cheering you up, swinging your hips and going down and poor jay, he is right there fighting himself because of the urge he feels to touch you all over, to kiss you so deeply while your bodies grind together.

but he is pulled out of his mind when a guy touches your waist, he smiles in a way that has a lot of your friends giggling when he asks you if he dances with you and jason is so close to lose his shit. that guy is doing what he wants to do with you, hands over your waist as he pulls you closer, his face too close to yours and you seem to enjoy it, you let him turn you around and even get closer to move your body against his, making him lean in and it's when he presses his lips on your neck that jason leaves his third drink to walk towards you.

"i think you're testing your luck" his voice is deep and the intensity of it makes you both stop right there, the sight of jason standing behind the guy that was dancing with you, his hand on the poor dude's shoulder while he towers over him "you never told me you had a boyfriend" he tells you right before he steps away muttering a stream of apologies "but he's not my–" and your words die as soon as jason smirks behind his back, looking a bit too proud of spoiling your fun "what on earth is wrong with you, jason?" and reality hits him.

he's a bit too used to be called jay by you or some other too cheesy pet name you can come out with, he likes it and he knows he's in trouble when you call him by his name but it's even worse when after that you just decide to walk past him. he just follows your figure as you storm out of the club, he can see your friends muttering between them but he ignores them, going after you to solve this.

"so you expect me to be happy when some random dude is kissing your neck?" he almost yells behind you, even wearing those uncomfortable shoes you're quickly walking away from him and his shame is the only thing that slows him down "are you telling me that i should have let him touch you all over and pretend it was okay?" and his words make you stop on your tracks "i can't see a problem there, i was dancing and having fun before you decided to act like a guardian dog" you point at him, walking dangerously close to him until he swears he's able to smell your sweet perfume.

"i do see a problem, he was practically fucking you with clothes!" he snaps back, towering over you as he tries to make you see the real issue because the one who should be dancing with you like that was jason, it should have been his hands pulling you closer to press your ass against him, kissing your neck while he said things into your ear "and what's the damn problem?!" you know your questions and words are making him more frustrated but you can't really find out why "that you shouldn't do that with someone like him! god, y/n, it should have been–" and he shuts up before he screws up.

"it should have been who, jason?" he sighs at your question, shaking his head before walking away from you "it should have been you? is that what you're trying to say?" jason stops at your words, was he so evident right now and his posture makes you realize "you have to be kidding me... the next fucking time you want to act all possessive make sure you are clear" your words are a mix of anger and joy, feeling the need to go and kiss him deeply is about to overtake the annoyance you feel because you really wanted to dance "if you're so worried that someone will snatch me up, why don't you just confess to me right now?"

when jason turns around your eyes are fixed on him, he looks at you almost as if trying to figure out if he heard you right "would i have a chance if i did?" he asks, crossing his arms once he's at one arm distance from you, he's question being answered with an annoyed grunt followed by a kiss from your lips to his while you can still listen to the bass of one of those old school reggeaton songs.

[keouil]

inside me, a family

“and for god’s sake,” kuroo yells in the direction of the entrance. “can someone please get tsukki off flyer distribution! he’s scaring more people off than inviting them!” 3k. karasuno/nekoma. fluff. also on ao3.

“Nekokara.”

“What are you,” Suga grimaces. “A fujoshi? Why does it matter which team name comes first in the banner?”

Kuroo’s stubborn expression doesn’t budge an inch, nor does his posture. “Nekokara.”

“Karaneko,” Daichi suddenly pipes up, surprising everyone in the room. Noya and Tanaka have somehow strategically slithered their way at each of his side, very much looking like his personal bodyguards as they set to agreeing very loudly and verbally all the while massaging their captain’s shoulders. Go, Daichi-san! Defend our honor!

“Oh god,” Suga breathes out, palming his forehead. “Don’t tell me you’re in on this too?”

Daichi just smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. It doesn’t escape Suga’s notice that doing so just forces his muscles to protrude from his already annoyingly jacked chest, making even Kuroo stand up straighter. 

"Karaneko,” Daichi repeats, pitching his voice lower and more demandingly. 

Kuroo’s eyes slant to a glare, nostrils flaring slightly. Tora has somehow also miraculously materialized by his side, clamping a hand on his shoulder as he—just like Noya and Tanaka—begins his own verbal back-up of his captain.

“Neko—”

“Good Lord this will never end,” Yaku suddenly cuts in, stepping in between both teams and glaring long and hard at each captain until some of their confidence withers just so. Daichi defers almost immediately, while Kuroo pathetically lasts about five pitiful seconds. “Karaneko, Nekokara, whatever. It doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t we get started on more important things like how we’re actually going to pull off a damn bake sale?”

Kuroo opens his mouth to counterargue, but is, once again, pathetically silenced by Yaku immediately sending a seething look his way. It’s purely out of self-preservation that he shrinks into himself and zips his mouth altogether.

Yaku uses the temporary shift in power dynamics to pass around scraps of paper, aided by Asahi and Kai who also just want to get it over with. 

“How the hell did we even get stuck with each other?” Tanaka whines, peering over the activity pamphlet for the coming week. “We’re not even from Tokyo. Coming here isn't cheap, you know.”

“Don’t you guys normally do this with Fukurodani?” Daichi says, squinting down at the roles Nekoma—meaning a vengeful Kuroo—had taken upon themselves to suggest under “recommendations”. Suga boldly rejects half of them on the spot. There is absolutely no way you’re letting my precious Tsukki be a garbage boy, Kuroo, the kid can’t even clean his own glasses. 

“I’m not doing it with those private school kids again,” Tora huffs, annoyed. “Did you know they bring an actual physical therapist every time? Bokuto-san keeps complaining his arms cramp up from mixing the batter bowl every 5 minutes. And Akaashi just lets him!”

“Are you…” Suga blinks, slowly turning his head his way after giving Kuroo a scolding of a lifetime. “Did you just call us poor?”

All the color drains out of Tora’s face. Tanaka is quick to roll his sleeves up, sensing his senpai’s growing dissent, and is already making his way over to maybe pound Tora’s hairless head into the underground all the good that senseless brain does him—

“Maa, maa,” Kuroo strolls in between them just in time, after remembering he was actually Nekoma’s captain and that actually meant something and damn these crows. “The bake sale tradition raises money for both teams and boosts community morale among schools. And I just thought, well, wouldn’t it be nice for us dumpster kids to stick together?”

Daichi squints at him, disbelieving.

Kuroo surrenders. “Alright fine,” he sighs. “Coach made us draw lots. I can count in one hand all the schools Tora doesn’t have a restricting order against for picking fights with, but it’s kinda slim pickings. We’re just glad we didn’t get Itachiyama.”

"Damn,” Noya whistles his approval. “I pity whoever they end up with.”

Kai winces. “Then you’d better send your regards to Inarizaki.”

“The Hyogo powerhouse?” Asahi widens his eyes. “But doesn’t their setter and the Itachiyama ace have beef?”

Suga chokes on the water he was chugging, “Since when do you know the word beef?!” At the same time Yaku makes an ominous sign of the cross, mumbling his prayers for Kita. “May the Inari Okami be with you, Kita-san.”

“Alright guys, that’s enough,” Daichi clasps his hands together, earning a flinch from Asahi. “We don’t have time to be worried about the other schools. Anyone else notice how quiet it’s been for the past hour?”

Kuroo glances around the empty classroom, sniffing and assessing. Suga is already preparing his thinly veiled threats at whatever mayhem they were bound to discover at leaving their first years unattended. Daichi is just about to ask where the hell is everyone when a decidedly loud, horror-movie-piercing scream rumbles its way outside the hall.

A beat of silence passes.

Daichi and Kuroo exchange wary looks. “Your kid or mine?”

Kuroo just about has his mouth open to reply, when Suga stomps his way past everyone in a decisive manner, cracking his knuckles as he comes face to face with the door.

“I don’t care whose kid it is,” Suga warns, giving them a look over his shoulder. “They’re dead.”

-

“A little to the right.”

…

“I said right, Tanaka-san,” Kuroo snaps, baring his teeth. “Or we could always have Yaku spot you instead if you prefer?”

Tanaka stiffens as he holds unto the welcome banner, trying not to move too much unless he disrupts the structural integrity of the ladder he was precariously balanced on. Kenma was somewhere at the bottom and, he’s not entirely sure, but he thinks he saw him whipping out his PSP instead of holding the ladder steady like he was instructed. Tanaka's life is literally on the line and no one cares.

“Oi Rapunzel,” Kuroo barks, again, impatient. “Are we boring you?”

These goddamn cats, Tanaka thinks. Leave it to Kuroo to let Kenma off the hook again.

“N-no, Kuroo-san,” Tanaka mumbles shakily, moving the banner inch by painstaking inch until he feels Kuroo’s glare at his back dwindle into something like mild approval. 

“Kenma,” he calls out suddenly, his tone softening. “Come here and check?”

Oh great yeah okay, Tanaka muses as he seethes with the wall, With Kenma it’s a question mark and gentle tone. With everyone else he’s an unrelenting dictator. 

He feels movement below him as Kenma lets go of the single (!!!) hand he was gripping the ladder with rather precariously, that Tanaka has to plant his palms for purchase with the wall just not to topple over completely. 

“What the hell—?” Tanaka turns, spotting Kenma’s mismatched head of hair, ready to swear down a number of profanities that’d make his own sister proud.

That is until he meets eyes with Kuroo and his single raised eyebrow. Almost protective, almost a challenge, almost a threat.

These goddamn cats.

-

“And for God’s sake,” Kuroo yells in the direction of the entrance. “Can someone please get Tsukki off flyer distribution! He’s scaring more people off than inviting them!”

Suga makes a face. Kuroo, native Tokyoite and just generally less introverted than everyone else, has since taken complete dictatorship of the planning committee for this supposed joint bake sale. He’s barked orders, threatened his own members, made Asahi cry once, got into multiple fights with Yaku, and repeatedly made clear to Bokuto that he absolutely cannot come and help because he will not come and help and Do you want all of our cupcakes gone before opening day? Cause Bokuto will 100% eat them all. Think of the children, Suga-san. 

Suga is convinced he’s a little loose on the head and could potentially be a little unhinged, but they were country bumpkins who didn’t know the first thing about holding an organized event in Japan’s capital, and so lets him be for the most part.

Daichi, however, has always rebelled where Kuroo is concerned. 

“Sorry,” Daichi says, straightening his back after carrying a box of measuring cups in. “But did I just hear you order around my first year?”

“There is no my and yours here anymore, Daichi-san,” Kuroo bats his eyes at him sweetly, smiling. “We’re a team now, remember?”

Daichi arches a brow, unconvinced and unyielding. “My first year, my demands.”

“Who trained him to be the middle blocker he is today?” Kuroo raises his chin.

Daichi is immune to 6-footer-intimidation-tactics. “Pretty sure his brother.”

That shuts Kuroo up straight away. Daichi’s shit eating grin that follows isn’t missed by anyone in the gym, and if possible, even a few members of Nekoma howl in pleasure. 

“If we’re staking claim on just anyone now because this bake sale is apparently a lawless land,” Suga suggests pointedly from behind the counter, assembling an array of pastry brushes. “I veto Lev out of marketing.”

“What the hell has he ever done to you?!” Yaku shrieks by his side, halting his own arrangement of rolling pins. Kuroo is quick to follow up with, “The kid has the emotional comprehension of a five year old. He can’t even hurt a cat. We’ve seen it ourselves.”

By the water coolers, Tora begins nodding so vigorously Tanaka has to grab his head in fear of whiplash. Even Kai, setting up chairs and tables with Asahi and Noya, looks the slightest bit defensive. 

“I have nothing against him,” Suga is quick to ammend. “But if he doesn’t stop offering 50% discounts, he’ll bleed us dry soon before we’ve even started.”

Kuroo gasps, affronted. "Lev did no such thing!"

Suga is just about to reply when they hear footsteps outside the door, making out a symphony of girlish laughs along with a decidedly male voice that sounded just like Lev accompanying them, singsongly promising: And that’s not all! First 30 customers also get a free picture with our captain! He's over 200cm, you know!

Kuroo’s shoulders slump. He blinks once, twice.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

-

"Kageyama, take off your shirt."

"Absolutely not," Daichi wheezes, stepping forward in front of Kageyama at the same time Suga seizes hold of the hem of his shirt, pinning it in place. "What the fuck, Kuroo."

Kuroo groans, pinching the bridge of his noise. "Look," he says, pointing at them. "The way I see it, someone needs to start showing some skin around here or we're going to lose."

Suga gives him an incredulous look, inching closer to Kageyama protectively, who still looked like a fish out of water munching on a test batch cookie Ennoshita and Narita asked him to try. "And you thought the minor was the way to go?"

"He's Oikawa's protege, isn't he?" Kuroo points out, matter-of-factly.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Daichi gestures wildly, exasperated.

Kuroo blinks. "Oh," he says. "You guys don't know."

Suga feels uneasy. "Know what."

Kuroo leans in, conspiratorially, like he's about to drop top-secret national-level information. "A classmate from econ class told me another bake sale was happening in the next building over. Another Miyagi and Tokyo collaboration."

"And?" Daichi furrows his brows. "There's hundreds of volleyball teams in Sendai."

Kuroo hushes him, not kindly. "Yeah, but no offense, up until a few months ago there really was only 2 schools other prefectures gave a fuck about." 

Suga's expression is a mix of confusion and annoyance. "You couldn't possibly mean—"

"Oh, but I very well do," Kuroo grins, a sliver of teeth peeking through at the corners. "Favorites Seijoh and Shiratorizawa are apparently causing quite the ruckus and have already made their goal twice over. Ask me how."

Now it was Daichi's time to groan.

Kuroo snaps at him again, impatient. "Just do it, Sawamura! Am I asking for the world!"

Daichi grits his teeth, before letting out a very painful, very slow and labored, "How."

Kuroo's grin turns absolutely maniacal as he looks Kageyama up and down. "They're holding an auction to date Oikawa or Ushijima for a day."

"Shut up," Suga gushes at him, slapping a hand on his shoulder. "They are not."

"Are too!" Kuroo squeals, growing more excited. "And didn't you hear me? They've met their goal. Twice. At this point they've probably funded at least another generation of those annoying preppy school athletes."

"It's not a competition," Daichi reminds him.

"Says the loser," Kuroo quips back.

Daichi holds his arms up in surrender, exasperated. "We are literally on the same team. Literally. You just said so like, five minutes ago. What I make, you make."

"Exactly," Kuroo zeroes in on him, sliding a hand over his shoulder and peering closer at him, eyes dilated and full of corporate greed. "And I want to secure a future for my kouhai," he continues, saying the next part in a deceptively enticing voice, "And you want that too, don't you?"

Suga feels his insides churn. "Daichi," he starts. "Wait. Don't—"

In the next second, Daichi's posture straightens into that of unyielding determination. The fine set of his shoulders and the arch of his jaw, so stubbornly straight and piercing. Suga blanches. Kageyama stiffens. They both recognize that look, know Daichi has gone to a point of no return and no amount of pleading will get through to him anymore. Suga is starting to seriously come to terms with the fact he might seriously have to end the day a cat murderer. 

Daichi turns to Kuroo. "What do you need us to do?"

Oh God, Suga thinks, Kageyama is going to need so much therapy after this.

-

“Mom and Dad are fighting.”

"What the fuck,” Tsukishima says at the same time Kageyama snaps his head in Hinata’s direction to tell him, “No, they’re not.”

Hinata’s scowl deepens, a prickle at the back of his neck telling him to go against anything Kageyama believes in out of sheer principle. “Yes, they are.”

“No,” Kageyama stomps over to him, completely ignoring the baking pans Daichi asked him to clean. He makes sure to stand up straighter and lord that extra head of height over him. “They are not. Shut up.”

"Are too," Hinata taunts. "I heard them saying your name over and over again, too! Suga-san said something about putting his foot down. You did something, didn't you?"

Kageyama's eyes flicker briefly down at his shirt, before rising to glare at Hinata again. "Shut up! Did not!

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

Tsukishima can’t believe what he’s seeing nor hearing. “You guys,” he tries to keep his voice level. “You guys seriously don’t call Daichi-san and Suga-san… Mom and Dad… right?” he laughs, an airy thing. “Right?”

They can’t even hear him, good lord. They’re in another one of those intensely and homoerotically charged eye contact competitions that not even Daichi can penetrate no matter how hard he tries. He gives it another few minutes before one of them—inevitably Hinata who has to strain his head just to even keep going—blinks because he needs to and cries out unjust treatment of the marginalized. 

Stop trying to make short people oppression a thing, Yamaguchi snaps at him when he's caught in the crossfire. It’s never going to be a thing.

Kageyama always walks away smirking in satisfaction, maybe even a little amusement. 

Tsukishima is sick of their back and forth and feels himself one more unwilling third wheel event before he locks them in a room and forces them to play 7 Minutes in Heaven or no volleyball forever again. And yes, he does mean forever: Daichi will simply have to find another setter and decoy.

“You guys are so fucking weird,” he mumbles instead, walking away to grab another stack of fliers to distribute around the block. Before he leaves he thinks he can hear Kuroo calling out for him, but when has Tsukki ever listened to his seniors? 

-

The first half hour into the bake sale, they are a well-oiled machine. 

Asahi, man of few words but will get triggered by potentially anything and everything, is highly encouraged—in Kuroo's words, with an underbite that absolutely threatened more than encouraged—to have the least amount of human interaction. Hence his current one-sided conversation with the wall as he diligently tied ribbons into cupcake boxes. Noya and Yaku, on the completely other end of the spectrum, the fastest of both teams and able to weasel their way into everything undetected much like subway rats: into the makeshift tables they go, cleaning up every drop of icing that so much as threatens to fall, and gone by the next second like wind. 

The merry band of freshmen six footers—Kageyama, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Lev, Inuoka—are designated waiters. If they're good for anything, which they are not, then let them be at least good looking coat hangers. 

Hinata and Suga man the cashiers, Kenma making a digital receipt of every order as they go so they can track their progress easily. Kuroo and Daichi are the welcome committee, ushering customers into seats and able to spontaneously go into a passionate elevator pitch about the highs and lows of highschool volleyball on the spot that has all the mothers ordering at least another box of cupcakes to take home.   

The rest of the team are slotted into respective roles that they attack with the same kind of devotion as they do in volleyball. Passionate, earnest, and all relishing in the integrity of a job well done. Karasuno and Nekoma, really and truly, at their core; work surprisingly well together. Maybe the best out of most teams in Miyagi and Tokyo.

And so all goes well for the first thirty minutes since the doors to the gym open and business is so far good. All goes well and everyone gets along and no cupcake is burnt and no first year is wreaking havoc unprompted.

All that is, until, well:

"Oh my god," one of the customers gush, pointing to Kageyama. "Isn't that Kageyama Tobio? Oikawa-san's kouhai?"

Kageyama stiffens, almost drops a plate full of piping hot egg tarts straight into Kai's lap. "I-I—"

Suga already clocked the customer from a mile away and was already heading over their way.

But Kuroo, longer limbs, gets there faster.

"Why, yes," he grins at them, pleased, beckoning Kageyama over. "That is, in fact, Kageyama Tobio in the flesh. Genius setter in the up and up."

Daichi squeezes the bottle of water he was holding onto, making murder eyes at Kuroo from across the room. Kuroo meets it with a glint of his own that could only say: Since you're not willing to pimp your freshmen out, let me. 

The girls gush at the confirmation. More people notice. Some of them take out their phones and start rapidly typing.

"Oh my gosh!" one of them shout. "I knew it! I recognized him from Oikawa-san's fan page!"

"Right, right?" her friend nods along enthusiastically. 

“Say,” one of them stands up, bravely coming just an inch closer into Kageyama’s space, peering up at him expectantly. “Are you guys also offering the boyfriend rental service?”

Kageyama looks like he’s being led to his own funeral. Kuroo only looks to be too happy to play judge, jury, and executioner. 

Until someone coughs to catch their attention. 

"Sorry," Hinata says, without a hint of remorse at all. "But he already has a boyfriend."

The room is blanketed in silence.

“What the fuck,” is all Kageyama is able to say, beet red in the face as realization sets in. 

“Thank fuck,” is all Tsukishima is only too happy to say, shoulders sagging in timely relief. “Now will you two just bone already?”

-

"All this could have been prevented," Daichi says amusedly as they put away chairs and tables. "If you had just sold yourself first instead of sacrificing my freshmen."

Kuroo glances his way apologetically. "I’m sorry,” he says. “I really am. If I’d known Kageyama and Hinata were—”

“Please,” Daichi raises a hand, stopping him. “Even Kageyama didn’t know. I bet he still doesn’t. They’re both oblivious fools, just Hinata less so.”

“Still,” Kuroo insists.

“Still,” Daichi agrees.

Then they both break off with a good-natured laugh, shaking their heads in amusement at the whirlwind of a day. Kuroo is just about to stack another chair when he says, “You know maybe I should have agreed to Lev’s suggestion earlier. The picture thing. But—ah.”

"But what?" Daichi gestures for him to keep going.

The tips of Kuroo's ears turn a shade of pink, and he can't quite meet his eyes. Outstanding conversationalist and top salesman in the making, Kuroo. This douses Daichi into full attention faster than a block of ice.

"Oh my god," Daichi snaps up straight, abandoning the chair. "What. What did you do."

"It's not me!" Kuroo has his hands out in surrender. "I just—" he starts, tries, fails. Daichi is itching to get his phone out to document this for future blackmail purposes. "...I just… have someone who'll be, um, n-not…—happy, I guess. If I look available."

Pretentious use of words, curses Daichi internally. But thank God he actually had comprehension skills.

"Dude," Daichi says, now just annoyed at Kuroo tiptoeing around him. Like he felt the need to. "So you're with someone too. Why not just say that in the first place?"

Kuroo shrugs, unsure. "We're still taking it slow?"

Daichi considers him for a moment, considering all he's observed today. "Weird," he notes. "That's not what Kenma looked like to me."

Kuroo's head snaps in his direction. "What the fuck," he says, breathless. "You knew?!"

"My brother in Christ," Daichi comes up to pat his shoulder, wincing a little. "We all knew from the beginning, you absolute baffoon of a pining idiot. If it makes you feel any better, Kenma is only slighter better at you than hiding it. You two make all of us sick."

Kuroo is barely processing his words, blinking rapidly at Daichi's slightly amused but mostly fond expression as he registers the genuineness that bleeds through. But alas, God didn't make Kuroo this fine of a specimen without sprinkling in some sinful traits every once in a while. Cats live nine lives, after all, he was good as immune.

"Oh yeah?" Kuroo combats, standing up straighter to look Daichi dead in the eye. "Like you and Sugawara are any better."

It takes less than a second for all of Daichi's face to heat up. And Kuroo, able to rise to his full height and forcibly hold Daichi's simmering head a good arm's length away from him, looks on at the rest of Karasuno and Nekoma walking and laughing and chatting idly about the gym as they pack up, the sun just shy of setting and Kenma smiling at him slightly from across the room: decides then that yeah, this life isn't so bad after all.

[solar-sunnyside-up]

Hi there... I really love the idea of solarpunk but like. The "punk" part of it makes me so anxious. I think it's a vital part of the movement, but I can never imagine doing something like that myself.

If you have any small (tiny) tips or ideas on things I can do on a more personal level I would appreciate them. Everything seems so overwhelming and completely out of my wheelhouse and skill base

Hey ya 🌱 Sprout!! It can be hard to recognize, particularly in solarpunk, but your already punk and already doing praxis. I'm sure of it.

If you've ever pirated media, DIYed or mended clothes, have a rain barrel, spoke out against poor labor conditions, provided a safe space for anyone in an uncaring world even for a brief interaction- Your already punk!! Anyone who fights and gatekeeps that title from you bc of age, aesthics, or experience is a poser and a FED!!

That being said tho--

If you want to do more outrageous projects there's a few things I can recommend depending on how much you wanna do!!

Battlejacket- TBH the purpose of a battle jacket is to soothe this exact anxiety while also being a fun project and being a single to others!! There's many examples in both my Battlejacket tag and patch idea tag to get you started. You can get iron on patches/print paper that transfers pretty well if your not used to DIYing stuff. If this feels like to big if a step and is too much tho keep in mind you can make a battlejacket and not wear it outside right away. It's a second skin to make you feel and others feel safe, but it's also a big neon target on yourself depending on your environment and where you are. So it's ok to just make one and not wear it out until your ready!! (If you do this-- my only demand is you show me when you do it!! I want to see all of those kinda projects bc I'm obsessed with them)

Getting out there- If starting a guerilla gardening project or joining a community garden, or community association isn't an option for you- be that bc of accessibility/time/energy- I'd recommend starting to archive and getting out there! Inaturalist or falling fruit are awesome programs where you identify plants/animals/stuff outside in general. It gets you outside, your adding to a community which gets the feeling of a ball rolling building confidence and your praxis muscles!!

Root yourself in your community- This is a hard one if your busy/have low spoons/are introverted but I promise its worth doing even if you arent super active in those spaces! Even just researching the history of your town/city/neighborhood and seeing what programs are running can really connect you to the area. A lot of us due to the renting crisis never truly attach to our neighborhoods or are too busy to look into local artists. (Not your fault babes, its built to do that to feed monopolies) Pick even just 1 thing you care about (local artists, teashop, bands, libraries, community fridges, etc..) and find the closest thing to you and get obsessed. Being a regular in any space is an awesome feeling, its where you'll find friends, and you'll directly see any change you provide there.

Media archiving- There's a lot of ways of doing this one but just pirate the fuck out of everything!!!! Burn it to a physical copy, share it with your friends/family! Make mix dvds, burn movies/tv shows! Directly download youtube videos! Print off your fave fanfiction and bind them into books! Particularly with streaming services directly deleting content and getting rid of them entirely this is important work but its also just very fun!! Seeing my wall filled with dvds and books and objects makes my brain happy but also again, the physical exchange of handing the media you love to another person is so unique! Theres lots of guides and methods of doing this depending on the method and medium your using.

Utilizing public spaces- Loitering is a good one as well to push yourself and to interact with things IRL! Use your public libraries and parks excessively! Spend a weird amount of time at the mall not buying stuff! This might seem like a weird one, but its a long term thing. It shows that ppl are supposed to be out and about without spending money, but also many of these places (except the mall obvi) get funding based on usage so the more you use something the more likely they are to make it accessible to more ppl! It also makes it more normal for ppl who need to loiter to be in these spaces which again adds more accessibility. This is also one that might get you unwanted attention so decide your comfort and safety level. Pushing boundaries is good but do it at your own pace.

Vandalize! - Again we're ramping up a bit on risk levels but I recommend it, particularly bus stops or putting up posters. Bus stops is bc at least in my city they only maintenance them once they've been 'ruined' so its actually a cosmic positive to do it in these spaces. Posters are also good! Ive seen quite a few for tenant unions but also a handful of them that are food resources or call outs for police. This is mostly to have passive way to show solidarity or get a message across. But also like your doing art! Great stuff! Again tho this comes with risk if caught or if you dont know what your doing so start with baby steps (like using sharpie on an Ad you fucking hate or putting up a poster in a neutral space to get used to it)

Hopefully these tips get you started!