#also I’m assuming good intent with this ask anon please do not let me down

[thestalwartheart]

Are there any men who write for this fandom (Bond/Q)?

Wrong fandom I know but I was just violently thrown back into my Star Trek days while reading this.

Quite a few. Not all authors are on tumblr, though.

Leaving it up to folks to tag themselves! Name yourselves, men of the 00Q fandom.

[angstyaches]

Could u do another similar to the Valentine’s Day Drabble were it’s very fluffy and the person is embarrassed by there gas. There blushing and excusing themselves as there stomach rumbles also phrases like goodness! excuse me dear

or just excuse me or pardon. And my stomach is upset or disagreeing with me please.

I love ur blog have a gd day ♥️

Ahhh, I'm so nervous about this one because it's different and a little silly.

I wasn't sure how I felt about this request but I took some parts and combined when with an idea I already had brewing, I hope that's okay, anon!

Early(ish) Days Felix.

CW: vampire blood-drinking, fantasy elements, overindulgence, bloating, stomach noises, burping, embarrassment, intentional burping, mentions of previous nausea and lack of appetite etc.

___

“Hello,” Elliott said as he walked through the bedroom door.

“Hi,” Felix called out, hoping he didn’t sound as strained as he thought he did. He wanted to be excited that Elliott was finally home, but he wasn’t sure his body would let him.

The bed jostled as Elliott sat down to take off his shoes and, in turn, so did the warm, heavy lump of pressure in Felix’s belly. He felt his stomach walls tremble with the effort of holding that pressure in place, but instead of cramping or churning, it continued to just… sit there beneath his rib, but not before letting out an audible groan from under the duvet.

Elliott paused and straightened his back at the edge of the bed. An amused half-smile crossed his face as he turned his head. Felix’s belly didn’t exactly have a reputation for going about its day without making a peep, but more commonly, it was wracked with twisting pleas for sustenance, or the watery gurgles of nausea.

“Was that your stomach?” Elliott asked incredulously, as though part of him wondered if the sound had come from his own.

All the blood – his own blood, that is – in Felix’s veins felt like it was rushing to his face and neck.

He nodded. "Pardon me."

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. I just… I may have pulled a you today.”

Elliott’s smile dimpled his cheeks. “A me?”

“Yes,” Felix said, savouring the chance to be cryptic for once.

“And what, pray tell, does that mean?” Elliott chuckled, bending at the waist again to continue unlacing his shoes. “More to the point, should I be flattered or offended right now?”

Felix winced as he watched his partner; Nancy had assured him it was almost impossible, but if Felix tried bending like that right about now, he would surely projectile vomit across the room.

He swallowed carefully at the thought, feeling a tiny bubble of pressure deep in his chest.

“I may have… over-indulged.”

Elliott sat up and glanced over his shoulder at Felix again – first, twisting to get a look at the swell of his belly, and then turning towards his face. He undoubtedly noticed the improvement in his colour; even Felix himself had noticed in the mirror earlier. Vampire starvation apparently took a while to take its toll, but could be remedied fairly quickly under the right circumstances.

“Over-indulged on…?” Elliott raised an eyebrow.

“Blood. Yes.”

“On a hunt?”

Felix nodded.

“Oh. Nice. Where did you go?”

“The woods.” Felix gave a light shrug. “You know geography isn’t my strong suit. I’m certain Ryan can fill you in the details…”

At the emergence of another deep, sluggish rumble, Felix flinched, an inexplicable shyness washing over him. He wasn’t sure if it was the relief that sparkled in the amber of Elliott’s eyes, or something else, that sparked a warm glow in his chest. He didn’t dare to hope that Elliott might be… proud of him? Or, at the very least, less worried about him than he usually had to be.

“I’m assuming Nancy gave you something for the nausea, then?”

“Yes,” Felix said, trying to brace himself for the wobble in the mattress as Elliott moved again. “It was incredible. Like night and day.”

Elliott finally kicked off his shoes and placed them to the side of his dresser. “Oh?”

“She gave me a tonic, which…” Felix paused as he listened to his own stomach churn, feeling its gently burbling movements inside. He smiled in Elliott’s direction to assure him he was okay. “I’m not quite certain, but I think it relaxed the muscles in my stomach. Have you heard of that?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“She and Ryan must have developed it recently then.”

Elliott scoffed. “Or I just never had need of it.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” Felix grimaced. He was both very attracted to and envious of Elliott’s seemingly indestructible digestive system.

Then again, if there were any stories from Elliott’s transformation days that painted him in a less-than-indestructible light, Felix was sure he’d gone to lengths to make sure those stories were kept airtight.

“So, it worked?”

“Yes. Once everything relaxed, it…” Felix almost didn’t want to admit that today’s hunt – the adrenaline, the euphoria, the feeling that he was the strongest creature on the food chain – aligned uncannily with how Elliott had described it all along. “It felt… the way I assume it is supposed to feel.”

Instead of hitting him with an I told you so though, Elliott leaned on his elbow, bringing his face closer to Felix’s. His bergamot-heavy cologne made Felix’s head swim in the most delicious way.

“Amazing,” Elliott whispered, with an almost relieved warble to his voice. And maybe a touch of excitement, too? He looked like someone who had been the only one to know a secret for years and years, only to finally have someone to confide in about it. “Right?”

“Incredible, Elli.” Felix wished he had it in him to sound more enthusiastic about it. “Once my body was relaxed and I was in the right headspace, it was… honestly astonishing how hungry I ended up feeling.”

“Not that astonishing.” The spark in Elliott’s eyes dampened slightly. “You didn’t keep anything down for almost a week, boo.”

Felix chewed the inside of his lip at the pet name. Elliott must have caught himself using it too, because he lowered his chin slightly to hide the smile that twitched across his face.

He hummed low in his throat as he reclined into place on the bed, turning to place his head on the pillow beside Felix’s.

All of the movement made Felix’s weight shift on the mattress again, earning yet another groaning vibration from his stomach. Nancy had warned him that along with easing any potential nausea or cramps, the tonic would also slow down the digestive process, meaning he was in for a long night of lying on his back, more or less immobile, as he had been all evening.

He hadn’t been prepared for how exhausted he would feel once his stomach was satisfied. His muscles felt like cotton wool. It was an effort even for his arms to work against gravity right now, so he’d spent most of his horizontal time with his arms placed neatly by his sides.

Felix swallowed. He was just thinking about how nice it would be to have a hand on his content-yet-confused belly when Elliott reached out and placed – no, braced a hand gently on his side, as though in apology for all of the movement.

“Felix,” Elliott exclaimed as his fingers edged up the gentle swell that pushed through the duvet. “Jesus. How much did you drink exactly?”

“Gosh, like I said…” The tips of Felix’s ears burned with indignance, and he found himself gulping drily again. “I believe I experienced something similar to your… frenzies.”

If he was offended or perturbed at all by that, Elliott didn’t say or indicate so.

He peeled the duvet back, exposing the t-shirt that Felix’s abdomen was doing its best to escape from. Its rumbling was even more obvious – and consistent – now that there was no thick blanket to muffle it. His t-shirt had gotten bunched up as he’d gotten comfortable in bed, leaving the lower half of his abdomen exposed.

Felix pressed his lips together and swallowed harshly, his tired lungs shuddering just from holding his breath for a couple of seconds.

He frowned and watched the curve of his belly lift and press even harder against his clothes as he inhaled, hands slumped by his sides. His stomach felt like a sentient water balloon struggling about inside of him.

The warmth and the weight of Elliott’s hand was pleasantly reassuring, though.

"Pardon," he murmured when his stomach shifted noisily again.

Elliott shook his head in mild distaste. "You don't have to pardon yourself every time your stomach makes noise."

Felix disagreed with a silent grimace to himself.

“I am so delighted for you,” Elliott insisted. “The fact that you finally got to enjoy feeding? Felix, that is everything.”

A flutter in his chest allowed Felix to relax into a proper smile. “It is?”

“Absolutely.” Elliott paused to let Felix’s belly grumble into the silence of the room. He waited for a particularly high-pitched, bubbly gurgle to break up the deeper sounds before he frowned and asked, "Are you feeling alright?"

"Oh, gosh." Felix gulped. "Yes. Sorry. Pardon all of the... disturbance."

Felix squirmed as much as his lethargy would allow him. He found himself wishing his stomach would give it a rest now. Sure, maybe it’d been endearing at first – Elliott certainly seemed to think so – but this was getting ridiculous. It was also getting a little difficult to breathe without becoming painfully aware of his stomach pressing on his lungs.

He wasn’t in pain; in fact, there was something satisfying about feeling his stomach churn and groan and process such a huge amount of blood. He’d been empty, or close to it, for so long, his body so starved for blood that regular food was digested at an accelerated rate, leaving him with hunger pangs mere hours after having a full meal.

But this was… lingering. Satisfying. Something he’d started to doubt would ever be possible for him.

His train of thought was de-railed as Elliott put a single fingertip against his side. The soft, stretched-out flesh barely reacted as he applied the pressure, but as he pulled his finger back and released it, Felix’s tummy wobbled from side to side, acting a lot like the water balloon it felt like.

Felix hummed under his breath, feeling everything – everything – as his stomach trembled inside.

Another trickling gurgle ran through his belly. The impulse to swallow washed sluggishly over him, but before he could do anything about it, a soft burp tickled at the back of his throat, rolling out over his tongue.

"Oh... gosh," he squeaked.

Elliott’s hand splayed over the top of Felix’s stomach, stiff with surprise.

Eyes watering, Felix pinned his gaze on the ceiling. He wanted to cover his face with his hands, but his silly arms felt like jelly. It felt as though the world had shifted on its axis, landing him in an alternative reality where he held even less mystery in Elliott’s eyes. Besides the queasy ones that always found their way out during a vomiting session, he had never burped in front of Elliott before.  

This wasn’t fair. There was very little spasming in his belly or throat, so the gas had simply slipped out of him like it’d been pressed out by an outside force. There was just no room left for it.

“Par – pardon me,” Felix murmured as an afterthought.

“Sorry if that was my fault,” Elliott said. He lifted his hand from Felix’s belly. “Should I stop?”

Felix turned his head to look at Elliott’s idle hand and let out a resigned sigh. He was in for a penny, now; what difference would a pound make? “Do whatever you want, darling. It’s not as though there’s much I can do to stop you.”

“Wait. Are you angry with me?”

“What? No.”

“Something is wrong,” Elliott observed. “Are you sure you're feeling well? Are you in pain?”

“No.”

“Well, then, talk to me.”

“I had never…” Felix mumbled off the rest of his complaint, face blazing with heat. He was kind of grateful for the blush; at least Elliott would be able to tell that he was ashamed of what he'd done.

Elliott just stared blankly at him. “What?”

“Oh, my gosh. IhadneverburpedinfrontofyoubeforenandnowI’membarrassed,” Felix blurted out. “Alright?”

It was a half-truth; Elliott had heard Felix expel gas from his mouth more times than Felix was willing to recall, during his many vomiting sessions over the past few months. But this was different. He wasn't nauseous. He should have had more control over himself.

“Embarrassed?” Elliott chuckled like he'd been told an amazing joke. He smoothed a hand over Felix's arm. “Fee, you don’t ever have to be embarrassed with me. Especially not over this. I’ve burped around you lots of times.”

“No,” Felix complained miserably, “you haven’t.”

Elliott’s lips parted, as though he were about to give an example of a time when he had, but his eyes glazed over slightly as the gears turned in his head. “Well… perhaps I haven’t.”

Felix hummed in disappointment. He would have liked to be proven wrong.

“Give me a moment.”

Elliott raised his shoulder from the bed slightly, as though he were halfway into a sit-up. His defined stomach clenched visibly under the fabric of his shirt. He took the hand from Felix’s belly and curled it over the inward curve of his own. Then he inclined his chin and he pressed a little harder…

A low, swishing gurgle made Felix’s ears prick up.

Elliott opened his mouth to release a low, controlled belch, snapping his jaw shut as soon as he was done. Then he relaxed his shoulders into the bed again.

“There,” he said breezily, brushing his fingertips over his stomach muscles. “We’re even now.”

Felix could only gaze at his partner's face. His head didn't feel like it was going to burst into blame anymore, and the strained grumbling of his stomach didn't snag his attention quite as abruptly now.

There was just the two of them.

[andypantsx3]

andie's info desk — blog rules, ask rules, writing info, tagging, and faqs!

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[clairecrive]

hello!! can you maybe write a nikolai x reader (she’s a heartrender) and they’ve been best friends since childhood and finally got together during the war, and he proposes to her once he becomes king? And she’s scared to say yes because the country might not want a Grisha queen but she eventually says yes?

Love Story

a/n: I missed my boy and so here's a fluffy piece for him. Thanks for requesting anon, hope you like this! x

Warning: none, pure fluff

Word count: 2.1K

Tags: @jupiterandbutterflies, @randomoutsiders, @agentsofsheilds, @for-bebbanburg, @pansysgirlfriend, @hannaxmaria, @vintagebitc

(if you want to, you can add yourself to my taglist by filling this form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

It was late when Nikolai walked into his room. It always was. He was the first one to get up and the last one to go to bed, assuring that everything was going as it was supposed to.

Such was the life of a king.

Well, Nikolai wasn't king yet. But with his father's illness, it won't be long 'till he was.

He had been dreaming about this all his life. Hell, this was everything he had trained to be. Ignored every rumours and gossip and slander, focused only on one thing: becoming the man that Ravka needed.

And now the moment had finally come.

Nikolai could barely believe it. Yes, he was ambitious and skilled. He knew that he was the right person for this job. Either way, he was nervous.

Whenever he pictured this moment as a young boy, he had always thought that it'd be the end. The coronation being the cusp of his personal fulfilment.

But things had changed.

Now his coronation didn't hold any finality to it. It felt like the beginning of something new if anything. Something that Nikolai had been extensively planning for and was extremely excited for. But since it was something new, something that had never been done before, the uncertainty of how it could go made him a bit nervous.

Because now he wasn't alone.

A fierce heartrender had become his partner, his confidante, his better half.

Trying to be as silent as possible, Nikolai quickly undressed before joining you to bed. It was routine for you. Nikolai would come home late, you'd be deep in slumber by then, but he would always hold you close to him and kiss your neck to warn you of his presence. That would usually wake you but you'd never get angry. Actually, you were the one that told him to let you know when he got back. If only to make sure that he was okay.

"All good love, go to sleep." He'd whisper then in your ear. You wouldn't move, only wiggle close to him and pull his arm over your body so that you could hold his hand.

To be fair, you had always been a constant in Nikolai's life. You had met when you were both children. He was known for being restless, always escaping his nanny's hold to go on "adventures" as he'd call them. They'd usually entail climbing over trees or exploring paths in the forest that he had never seen.

One day, during one of his quest, he had put into his head that he needed to climb the biggest tree he could find. It was easy enough to spot his challenge but doing it was another thing.

He had been able to climb a few feet, his short stature and slender limbs aiding him in his endeavour. Looking down to assess his progress, he was confident he could really make it. Overconfident really. Because too busy loading over his abilities, he didn't notice that his foot was not hovering over a branch.

So when he went to confidently put all of his weight on it and it was met with nothing, he lost his balance. He tried to grip with all his might to the branches he was holding in his hands but he wasn't strong enough. And so, he fell.

Thankfully, he hadn't climbed high enough for the fall to be fatal. But it was enough to severely injure him.

At first, the impact of the ground left him out of breath. His head hurt too. It was only when he tried to stand that he noticed that his leg was bent at an unnatural angle.

There wasn't any blood but the sight was enough to send baby Nikolai in a panic. His breath turned hollow and frantic and now that he was aware of the injury, pain shot through his leg making him sob.

It was for the noise he made that you had been able to find him.

You were also wandering around the forest but for less nefarious intent though. You had a book under your arm and you were looking for a quiet spot to read. Needless to say, as soon as you heard his wails of agony, the book fell discarded on the ground as you run toward the noise.

When you reached him you tried your best to get him to calm down. He was hyperventilating by then. You weren't that far in your training to be able to slow his heartbeat or put him to sleep. But you were skilled enough to soothe him with your touch.

That and Nikolai was too caught up in looking at you, this stranger who was trying to help him.

While you couldn't actually heal him, you kept him company until someone eventually found you.

That was how your friendship had begun until it had bloomed into something more as you grew up.

Unbeknown to you, your relationship was about to reach another mark. Holding you close to him, Nikolai willed himself to put his plan in action tomorrow.

As his coronation grew closer, he grew more and more restless. He needed to do this as soon as possible.

The next day went by as usual. When you woke up Nikolai wasn't next to you but you found a trial with your breakfast and a handwritten note on it.

It read:

"An hour before the sun sets, meet me when it all started."

While it was unusual for Nikolai to leave you little notes in his stead, the mysteriousness of it made you antsy. What could he possibly be up to?

Your day went by, as usual, a skip in you feet as you were excited about the date.

Like he had asked you, you made sure to reach that tree in the forest exactly when he asked you to.

Nikolai was already there, pacing at the foot of the tree until he noticed you standing there.

"What is going on?" Before seeing him, you hadn't thought that this meeting could be about bad news. But Nikolai looked nervous, almost scared and that didn't happen often.

"Hello, love." He greeted you walking towards you. Holding your hands in his, he raised one to his lips to leave a small kiss.

"Such a gentleman," you cooed at his gesture, his lips curling in a small smirk as a result, "what did you do?" Raising one of your eyebrows, you asked knowing that when Nikolai was so sweet it was only for two reasons: he wanted to make it up to you or he wanted to have sex. Since doing it in public places had never been appealing to him, you thought it more likely that it was the first.

"Can't a man do something nice for his better half?" He scoffed in fake hurt. You pointedly stared at him but you were smiling.

"I wanted to something nice for you," he said shyly? while shrugging your shoulders not meeting your eyes. Without waiting for a reply, he pulled you closer to the tree where you now noticed there was a white sheet laid with rose petals and candles all over it.

"Things are about to change," he said referring to his impending coronation as you reached the sheet, "and you know what I realized?"

You shook your head in reply, too enchanted by the man in front of you and the scenery around you to speak. Nikolai smiled at you, gently reaching to your face to remove a piece of hair by tucking in behind your ear. His hand gently cupped your cheek, his smile widening even more when you leaned into his touch.

"I've realized that no matter what happened in my life, where I am in the world or what name people call me, you're always the constant."

"And I don't want that to change. Ever." His eyes flicker between yours, shining with anticipation. But why? Surely he must know that you never intend to leave him.

"That it's never going to change, sasha. I'm here to stay." You assured him, your hand reaching to grab his.

His eyes flashed again, regaining their usual confident glow. He looked reassured.

"Well, you know me, my dear. Always worrying so, I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to make it official." He joked, his hands leaving your face as he kneeled.

Kneeled? He couldn't possibly...

Your breath hitched at his position. He got a little box out of his pocket before reaching for your hand again.

"Y/n, my heart, my love, the apple of my eye, you beautiful woman," he started cheekily knowing very well how calling these things would make you blush, "We were both young when I first saw you. Me making a fool out of myself by doing something stupid as per usual and you coming to save my ass. Little did I know though that that stupid adventure would give me more than a broken leg." Both of you smiled at the memory.

"if I knew that breaking a leg would be what made me meet you, I would have done sooner. And don't give me that look," he said once you glared at him, "what's a broken leg in the face of true love?" He added making you roll your eyes. Always smooth with his words. Damn him.

"Because that's what we have, a love story. And it may not be conventional with me dragging you all over the world doing reckless things, assuming different identities and everything but it's our love story. And it's beautiful, I wouldn't change it for the world. So baby, please, just say yes and make me the luckiest bastard in the world."

His words, his hopeful smile and shining eyes were too much for you to contain your tears. They were happy tears, you both knew that. There was no way you could say no to him. But at the same time, you were a bit hesitant. Nikolai painted a wonderful picture but you knew that the reality was a bit harsher.

Kneeling as well, you also gripped his hands.

"You're my whole heart, sasha, I hope you know it." You started, your voice wavering a bit. Nikolai's face fell for a moment sensing that there was a "but" coming. But it only lasted so long before his face morphed into that stubborn expression he'd always have whenever he'd set on getting something.

"I'd be a fool to say no to you, Nikolai," you added hastily hoping to rectify your mistake. "But I can't help but worry."

"You're going to be king soon and I'm not sure how much having a Grisha consort will help you."

Where his lips were pursed in confusion now they were set in a line. Knowing what was troubling you relieved him. That was easily fixed.

"So what, my love? I'll be a king and you'll be the queen. You've fought for this country just as much as I have. Besides, you're a fool if you think that I'm going to leave you just because I'll be addressed by a different title."

The hold on your hands felt reassuring, the sheer determination and honesty in his eyes even more. You knew Nikolai and you knew that he was ambitious as well as stubborn. And loyal. Your heart warmed at his words that you knew were true. He was not going to let you go.

Suddenly, the realisation of your feelings for him and his feelings for you overwhelmed you. A sob broke through your lips making worry return in Nikolai's eyes.

"Saints Nikolai, you have no fucking idea how grateful I am you fell down that tree that day." You confessed, eyes welling with tears.

"So am I, my love. My leg a bit less but..." you both chuckled.

Returning serious, Nikolai went to open the velvet box he was holding. The Lantsov's emerald. Your eyes widened when they fell on it. You had known about it but you had never seen it before.

"Nikolai-" you whispered in astonishment.

"I know it's not exactly your style but this was fit for a queen. My mother gave it to me and I want you to have it." He said sensing your hesitancy.

"Can I also have a kiss?" You asked cheekily batting your eyelids. Nikolai laughed at your antics. He quickly slipped the ring around your finger before cradling your face and pulling you close.

"You don't have to ask twice." And with that, his lips crashed on yours. He kissed you slowly at first, just your lips touching. But as soon as the realisation of what had happened dawned on him, the kiss grew frantic. His hands were in your hairs as yours were wrapped around the collar of his coat, pulling him impossibly close to you.

Life with Nikolai wasn't easy but his love was the most real thing you had ever felt. Nothing in the world meant more to you than he did. Ring or not.

[imthepunchlord]

idk about other cultures, BUT i do know about the chinese zodiac and they actually have elements! air is not one of them, but you can look yours up. it’s not that each animal has a singular element that corresponds like the western zodiac. so there is water, fire, earth, wood, and metal/gold for each animal. you have to look up your birth year to see what element it was. also roosters are like the worst flyers ever so i wouldn’t necessarily say that you’re air just because they’re birds (although i do understand that it was the anon that said these things)

just a disclaimer for this next part: i am not trying to accuse you (nor that anon) of anything, just trying to give some advice and spread some knowledge. i do not know your cultural/ethnic/national background and maybe you’re just misinformed, but please don’t use the cultures you’re not tied to or knowledgeable about. it perpetuates the spread of misinformation and really is cultural appropriation when it boils down to it because you’re not doing the research for it to actually be appreciation.

i’m gonna make an assumption that could be completely wrong, but it isn’t very out there considering the content of your blog. i assume that you’ve probably gotten into the chinese zodiac because of miraculous ladybug. that’s great btw! i love miraculous and the fact that it gets some culture out there, but i really don’t think that it’s the best representation of chinese culture (off the top of my head, cats are really good luck lmao and that goes against the main premise of the show) so if you’re interested in that stuff please do research outside of the miraculous universe. that goes for everyone who likes miraculous btw.

again! maybe i’m misreading the situation or something, but please do research before publicly involving yourself in these cultures and possibly causing the spread of misinformation and making it seem like they are aesthetic. i don’t think that this was your intention, but it does come across as this.

also i would like to reiterate that most of this message does apply to all cultures (especially those of marginalized communities) but i wouldn’t actually know about those cultures so i can’t speak on them here.

anyways, please have a nice day and thank you for reading my probably annoyingly long message <33

I am a metal rooster actually.

Thank you for sharing your concern, I do assure you that when I'm going to delve into another culture, I'm going to research about it first and make sure I'll portray it correctly. Wu Xing I read up a lot on in my ML days because I wanted to know who of the 5 could be what element. And much of my research left me irritated with ML as it's not properly incorporating Chinese mythology or views into their miraculous.

By all means though, if anyone finds I misportrayed something please let me know, I acknowledge that I am still learning and don't know everything. I'd like to know so i can make corrections. If I'm asked on something I'm researching still, I'll be clear I don't know everything yet and I can't give a proper or elaborate answer.

Thanks for the concern, I do always aim to be respectful and do a lot of research if there's something I'm going to write about.

[littlesniggy]

Hi! How are you doing? I'm the anon who asked for the underage character and yes, obv I wasn't thinking about any nsfw since he is underage ^^ So can I ask you a scenario for Dellinger x fem reader? His reaction when a stranger try to flirt with her, and she's clearly uncomfortable with the situation

Thank you, hope you're having a nice day :3

Hey Anon! Thank you so much for requesting for Dellinger. First time writing for him and I think I'm not quite sure how he'd behave just yet but it's not too shabby either. I hope you enjoy it! Dellinger is a little shit but we all know this. If you are in a relationship with him, be prepared for a lot of questionable things lol.

Warning: maybe mention of blood, mild swearing

Pairing: Dellinger x female reader

Word count: 1.6k

You two haven’t been dating for long yet and it was your very first relationship. To think it would be with someone like Dellinger surprised even you. Especially since you had no idea he would actually feel the same way about you in the first place. He was like an odd-ball: either hit or miss and luckily for you it was a total hit. It had taken all your courage to tell him how you felt; you’ve always been on good terms and had a lot for fun together, even if you not always agreed with the way he loved to torture his enemies (or even his allies).

“You like me, Y/n? Of course, you do!” he laughed and put his arm around your shoulder, looking at you with an excited yet shit eating grin. “You’re fun to hang around, too! Wanna be my girl?” and that’s how you two started dating. It’s been challenging from time to time, peculiarly when it came to other boys looking at you. You never thought of him as being the jealous type but in hindsight you could’ve presumed as much; he didn’t like to share his stuff, he got mad when he wasn’t the center of attention, let alone when he got ignored, and he loved showing his things off to others. So, it was only natural for him to be protective over you.

“Ne, Y/n! Where you going? Why aren’t you asking if I want to come with you?” you heard his voice behind you, close to your ear. You jumped a little in surprise at his words, turning around to look at his naturally hungry looking eyes and the same old grin on his lips. “I didn’t think you would want to come with me. Told you I’d go to town and look for this book I’ve wanted for a long time. Remember? Your answer when I first asked you yesterday was: “As long as it’s not book with pictures of people getting tortured or some magical book where I can summon a gigantic beast, I’m out.”. Ring any bells?” you quoted him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, grinning at the young man in front of him.

“I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go!” and with that he grabbed your hand and lead the way. Stunned, you followed your boyfriend, wondering what has gotten into him all of a sudden. But you’d get your answer sooner than later…

At the book store you had chosen to look for the wanted item were a lot of people; women, man, children, toys – it seemed like everyone from this kingdom was here today and you could barely look at any of the books, let alone move forward to the section where you assumed the book to be. Surprisingly, Dellinger didn’t complain once; he had his hands crossed behind his head and was even whistling! What was wrong with him today?

A sudden shove had you bump into some guy standing next to you. “Oh, I’m sorry.” You apologized and lifted your hands as well as a sign you didn’t mean to. “Oh, no worries. It’s not too often a pretty young lady tries to flirt with me.” He laughed and you chuckled awkwardly. “Oh, I wasn’t trying to-“

“I’m just joking. I know you it was an accident.” He winked at you. Relieved you gave him a genuine smile, apologized once more and tried to make your way over to your destination.

“That was a weird guy, right?” you mumbled. When you were given no response, you turned around and saw – no one; at least no one you knew. “Dellinger?” you called out but couldn’t make him out in the crowd. With a shrug, you moved on, assuming he’d probably gotten annoyed and was now waiting outside or doing God-knows-what.

While looking at the different book titles in hopes of finding the one you felt as if someone was looking at you intently, and it made your body shiver. An uneasy feeling became more and more present in the pits of your stomach. As a consequence, you decided to slowly turn around and be prepared to find some old creepy man eye your body.

You were relieved to see it was not an old man but your relief turned into concern when the guy watching you turned out to be the same guy from earlier. He was holding a book in his hand and acted all surprised to see you here as well, smiling at you and putting the book away. From where you stood you couldn’t get a clear look on the title but you were pretty sure he wasn’t actually reading this book.

“And here we meet again. One could think you’re following me.” He said this cheesy line and you wanted to vomit but didn’t dare to upset him. Where was Dellinger anyway? He was always over you when anyone even seemed to be interested in you in the slightest. And now, that someone was actually flirting with you, he was nowhere to be found.

“It seems more like you are following me.” You said in a polite yet distant tone. “What makes you think that?” he asked, crooking his head to the side. You pointed behind him to the book shelf where he had put the book. “Cause either, you have a baby on the way and need some last-minute advice from a book since the section over there is for parents to be or, which is much likelier, you just pretended to read it.” You said, putting the book you were holding back in its place again. Your eyes flashed over the spines of several books but it seemed like you had no luck in finding the wanted one here.

“I guess you got me.” He admitted. You turned your gaze over to him again, seeing him practically stare at you. There was a silence after this for a while and it made you feel even more uncomfortable. What did he want?

“Well, is there anything I can help you with then? Since you made all this effort to follow me?” Please say no and just leave, you thought to yourself.

“Would you go on a date with me?” he straight out asked and put you on the spot. You weren’t the best at turning people down but in all fairness, it rarely happened anyways. “I…I have a boyfriend.” You said, sounding not very convincing.

“You don’t have to lie to me. Don’t be shy, I won’t bite. Besides, ever since I first saw you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Please, give me one chance to prove myself to you.”

Anxiety took over more and more and you stepped a step back, bringing some more distance between the two of you. “No, really. I’m in a relationship.” And what do you mean ever since you first saw me? That was five minutes ago…”

“Maybe it’s not the first time I’ve seen you. I’m just saying; please give me one chance and I swear I won’t disappoint you.” He tried again, trying to reach for your hand, a warm smile on his lips that creeped you the fuck out.

All of a sudden, there was a different hand grabbing his and the guy winced a little. “Ouch, what the-“ but he was cut off when he looked at a maniacally grinning Dellinger, showing off his sharp teeth. “Didn’t you hear what she said? She’s taken.” He chuckled, his grip almost crushing his wrist. “Let go, man! Damn, it hurts! What’s your problem?!” he complained, trying to pry his hand off of his wrist. “What my problem is? I really, reeeeally want to tear you apart and see drown in your own blood.” A high-pitched giggle accentuated his threat and the guy’s face turned white, finally recognizing the young, flamboyant officer of the Donquixote family in front of him.

“I give you ten seconds to get out of here and never show your face in front of her or me again, understood?” he whispered, his eyes glowing red, hoping the guy would defy him. But he was way too scared and took the first chance Dellinger gave him to get out of there.

You watched the guy run for his life before you hooked your arm into his, smiling up at him. “Thanks.” You said. “How dare he try anything like this.” Dellinger cursed. “You shouldn’t have left me here in the first place. Where did you go?” you demanded to know. Your boyfriend’s grin became wider and realization slowly hit you.

“You knew what was going on.” You stated dryly and he couldn’t suppress the small giggles. “Did you also know he had seen me before?” your suspicions were confirmed with his next sentence. “Ever since we went to this stupid café two weeks ago.” You weren’t overly excited hearing this from him. “Did you also know he would come here today?”

“You know I hate book stores. Might as well make the whole thing fun to me.” He chimed, already pulling you out of the store.

“I can’t believe you! So, instead of telling me about this, you just watch him flirt with me and ask me out? And now you even let him get away with it?” your voice grew louder and louder, almost furious at his little stunt. Your anger, however, vanished within the next second.

“Who said I’d let him get away…?” If death had a name, it would most certainly be Dellinger. This boy will rip the other guy’s guts out and eat every single piece of him. This little game was just to fuel his anger and get the revenge you both deserved.

[bbhyeoliskooks]

Yoo! Can I request something with our baby junnie? Like it's all up to you as to what you want to do, but could it be with junnie? Thanks 🥺

･ﾟ°• ♔ •° 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 °• ♔ •°･ﾟ

You kiss Prince Yeonjun on the cheek for the first time while he’s sleeping, but knowing him... it turns into something more.

･ﾟ°• ♔ •°･ﾟ°• ♔ •°･ﾟ°• ♔ •°

Pairing: Yeonjun x Reader (gender-neutral)

Genre: Like... 91399 cups of fluff ! And maybe 1 cup of angst~

Warnings: some rlly soft and cheesy, unedited writing at 12am~ but other than that, none !

(omg i wrote this at 12am and i have some testing thingies tomorrow 😭😭 please let me do well 🧍 also anon who requested this ! I’m so sorry that it took long, but i hope this drabble makes it up 🥺 and to be quite honest with you, i started crying during this because it’s so soft skdsjf but i hope you enjoy 🥺💕)

･ﾟ°• ♔ •°･ﾟ°• ♔ •°･ﾟ°• ♔ •°

Oh, why couldn’t he be yours? 

You knew exactly the reasons why, yet your mind scrambled to find some examples of why it’d be okay just like he promised, as a friend. It didn’t go well, and you found yourself thinking why this- all this meeting up whenever you had free time was wrong. One, because you weren’t suitable enough to love him as you were a commoner from the kingdom he served. Two, because the queen would eventually find someone much better than you, a simple person, to be his betrothed. Three, because you were certain he wouldn’t ever like you enough to give you such blooming love and affection. 

You could go on and on about why everything was a mistake of course, however you were sick of being sad for yourself since in the end, you would never be right for each other. Not to mention that it was sort of rude to assume he reciprocated feelings for you as well. You’d be a fool to think that, for he was a dashing prince you knew you could never have. 

Even in the garden now where he was sleeping on your lap, your gracious heart swelled with joy despite feeling sympathy for yourself. Having him so close to you, hearing his soft, quiet breaths as he emerged himself into a deep slumber, cherry blossom lips parted into a tiny ‘o’ shape mumbling out your name occasionally to faintly check up on you, you could never really get enough of how gorgeous he was although he was in the middle of resting. The prince simply looked adorable whenever he stirred, furrowing his eyebrows and rubbing his head against your thighs just to make sure you were still there. A smile became of your lips as you ran your fingers gently through his soft hair, humming a warm tune that his ears melted to. You couldn’t catch yourself from falling in love with him again and again. 

Thirty minutes before, he convinced you to come hang out with him in his favorite garden even if he knew the risk of you two getting caught was truly chancy. Since he was gone from inside the castle, it would be much more dangerous too but there was no way you could deny him and his puppy eyes, no matter how perilous it was. You could’ve been sent to the cages just for making eye contact with him, and the queen would only find this friendship to be a taboo. Did that stop the both of you though? The word such as no could only resound in your head. 

You sighed, looking at the sunset in front of you. Soon, you would have to go to your own dwelling. It’s getting late and besides, you shouldn’t even have agreed to be here in the first place since it could be counting as trespassing.

But the beautiful prince you loved so dearly in your lap who was sleeping, blissfully unaware of your forbidden heart... you felt your eyes well up with glistening tears. You have to keep reminding yourself that he’ll eventually love someone else. That he’ll move on to find someone better who deserves him more than you. That he has to get married soon with a neighboring, peaceful royalty because it’ll benefit the kingdom and all of its land. 

An icy, sparkling tear fell on his left cheek and he slightly shuddered unconsciously, slowly but surely waking up unbeknownst to you. 

You gently stroked his right cheek in return at his turning, sadness filling your heaving chest while you gazed through thick eyelashes at him. How were you ever going to confess if the world was against you? Whatever this was, it wasn’t right. And you knew he’d be furious too if you left without a word, but this would be for the best. You weren’t sure how to say this, instead opting to close your eyes as you thought showing actions would be the best. 

Arching down a little you delicately pressed your lips against his cheek, heart filling up with agony by the time you pulled away. It was short and sweet but it was enough to rip your soul into shreds. Everyone said that love was beautiful, being so healing that it wrapped up every single wound and pain, yet this was the most painful thing you’ve ever done. Leaving him for sure and promising to yourself that you’d never intentionally see him again. 

“Please, don’t cry. You know I hate seeing you cry.”

It was Yeonjun’s gentle voice that brought you out from your daze and you came to realize that he must’ve been awake to feel that kiss on his cheek. Hearing his voice was enough to throw you to tears, despite you wiping them away the moment they fell. 

“Princess, is there anything wrong?” You winced at the nickname he loved to call you, avoiding his intent gaze which was filled with worry and concern. You weren’t sure how to say it without confessing your erroneous feelings. 

“No, it’s just,” your voice clearly broke, obviously showing that there was something indeed wrong. “I think I should head home soon since I’m worried about my mother.”

“You’re lying to me,” he breathed out tiredly, tenderly reaching up to cup your cheek. You melted at his touch, shutting your eyes at how warm he was. You were absolutely putty in his hands; you never knew how you could be so whipped for a person. 

“I’ll ask again. What’s wrong?”

You were adamant on not answering.

Yeonjun chuckled at this, shaking his head as he clucked his tongue. He could’ve used his authority as the prince of Rosea, but that was too harsh in his opinion. Then as he rummaged to get an answer out of you this time, suddenly you found the two of you sitting in silence for a while. What he was thinking- you weren’t sure at all. But in his mind, he found the perfect solution to make you speak to him. After all, three times a charm, right?

His comforting yet playful voice broke the quietness of the seemingly everlasting garden. 

“Then if I do this, will you truly know how much I care for you?”

Without another word he twisted his torso up towards you, holding your cheeks gingerly in his hands as his lips collided against yours. He laid a tender kiss against your lips, smiling as soon as you kissed him back with so much passion and pent up feelings. The love climbing higher and higher in his heart burst into flames and he couldn’t help himself, embracing you in his arms so much so that he never wanted to let go. It hadn’t even been so long but at that point, he treasured you so preciously more than anyone else he had ever loved. 

Although hesitantly when you both needed air, he pulled away, leaving one more chaste kiss on your cheek like you had done to him earlier. 

You too were out of breath, too stunned to say anything at what happened. In response to this, your stomach was tumbling and tumbling, creating so many butterflies that multiplied to an infinite expense. And gosh, your heart was fluttering too much for your own good you swore he could hear it pounding through your chest!

Yeonjun laid a hand over the area of where your heart was, grinning from ear to ear at how well the outcome turned out. It pulsated under his fingers, confirming the worries he had from earlier. He was expecting you to pull away first or slap him since this was a bold action but that was far from it. He wasn’t able to stop himself from smiling so widely, and he wondered why. But the answer was there. It had always been there.

He effortlessly leaned in again, pulling your head towards him so this time you touched foreheads. His heart was beating so quickly too, shouting the answer all along. 

“And something is telling me that with your fluttering heart, you love me too.”

---

Posted: 3/2/21- 12:00am

Tags:

[buckyownsmylife]

Catch me - Tom Hardy smut

The one where you’re Tom’s neighbor and he comes to your place after he’s locked out of his house on a rainy night. Requested by anon. + Dry Humping also requested by different anon ask

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cursing

A/N: okay, so here it is! My Tom Hardy requested smut! I’d also like to announce that I’ll be attempting to partake in this years’ Kinktober, and this is my first fic, fulfilling the prompts dry humping + face sitting. I’ll post the list of prompts I created for myself, along with the characters they are paired up with, a bit later. I also say “attempting” because I actually had a pretty bad accident last night and I’m still unable to do regular things like sitting or walking, so it’s been a struggle to get this done. If in anyday I am unable to write, I won’t force myself to do it. But that’s all, please enjoy this fic and let me know what you think of it! My requests are now empty, so feel free to send me any ideas you might have - I can either integrate them in one of my fics for the kinktober challenge or work on them in November.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I had watched with only partly concealed interest as the new neighbor slowly grew more comfortable at her place right next door to me. At first, it truly was just a slight curiosity founded in my observation of just how beautiful she was. But then, one day, right after she moved in, she caught me staring, and opened up the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. Just like that, I was stuck with a teenage-boy crush that left me blushing and stuttering every single time she so much as looked my way. 

If there was one thing people knew about me, was that I was not the blushing, stuttering type.

But things only got worse as time went on. She turned out to be just the perfect neighbor, usually coming around to offer me cookies or other baked goods precisely when I needed it the most.

“How do you always know when I’m feeling down or hungry, sweetheart?” I even ended up asking as I accepted yet another tray of brownies from her tiny hands. Her sweet little giggle went straight to my pants, instantly hardening my severely ignored member.

“It’s not that hard to figure out, Tom. Anytime you get back home this late, I can pretty much assume you barely had anything to eat all day, and it’s very clear you won’t have the energy to whip up anything right now.” My eyebrows raised up at her comment, but before I could satiate my curiosity, she quickly added, “And before you ask, no, I don’t spend my life looking out of the eyehole, you just have pretty loud steps when you’re tired, I can easily hear from my living room when you walk the hallway during the evening.”

Chuckling, I nodded, granting her that. I knew that she meant no harm, but I couldn’t help but to feel embarrassed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll try to be more mindful next time.” Her eyes widened at my apology, and she immediately waved my words away, clearly mortified by the fact that I had interpreted it as a complaint.

“Gosh, Tom, no, that’s not what I… Please, don’t worry about it. I’m just a terrible insomniac, and I have good ears. It’s not like you’re waking me up every time you come home or anything. That would be a bummer, but also highly improbable, since I’m a very heavy sleeper…” I had come to understand that she was very capable of maintaining a conversation completely by herself, but everytime she took notice of it, she scrambled to get out of my sight. I figured someone in her life must have told her she talked too much, but personally, I’d do anything to witness her little monologues at least a bit more. She just seemed so interesting, and selfless despite the constant stream of consciousness that poured out of her lips whenever she was nervous.

I liked knowing I made her nervous. It made me feel less terrible about wanting to know more about her. Did that make me a creep? Hell, probably. But I couldn’t pretend like I gave a damn. I felt this inexplicable attraction to her, her personality and body, and that was it. I wanted to uncover what it was about her that had me so engrossed.

And one night, the opportunity presented itself to me. I had gone out of my car in a hurry because of the rain that had decided to pour all over the city and didn’t look like it was stopping any time soon, so I only noticed that I had locked my keys on the trunk of the car when I was already in front of my own apartment’s door, dripping all over the hallway. 

Fuck, that was just so typical of me. Why did I even bother to get my backpack out of the car, when I was already arriving home close to midnight and would be back at work early in the morning? It wasn’t like I would have the time to use my computer or anything. 

Sighing, I ran a wet hand over my face in an effort to figure out my next move. Obviously I would need to get someone to open my car for me, but in the middle of the night, it’d be hard to know who would come. It would definitely be easier to find someone in the morning, and I could very well get an Uber to some cheap motel and spend the night there. 

I was about to do just that when suddenly the door behind me opened, and a delicious smell of lasagna filled my nostrils, making me aware of just how hungry I was. “Tom?” Her sweet, sweet voice instantly calmed my tense muscles, making me open a smile at the sight of her despite the series of events I had just lived through. “Is something wrong?” 

A low chuckle escaped my lips at the awareness of just how pathetic my situation was, but there was no real humour in my tone. I looked down at my wet shoes before gathering the courage to look her in the eye again, giving her a small smile. “I locked myself out,” was all I said, and before I could even further explain my situation, her eyes had widened and she was reaching out to me, holding me by my wrist and pulling me inside of her place. 

“You poor thing. And right on the worst night for it to happen? Here, sit down while I go look for something you can change into. Wouldn’t want you catching a cold, would we?” I briefly considered offering some kind of protest, explaining how I intended to go spend the night in a motel, but the truth was, I didn’t want to. It was late, I was tired and I was really fucking cold and just by being in the close proximity of this beautiful creature, I already felt a little bit better, so I’d just shut up and wait to see how this would play out for me. 

She came back with some sweatpants and a large cotton shirt, a bashful look on her face. “I bought these sweatpants from the male’s department because they’re usually comfier than the ones I find in the female department, they should fit you well.” I accepted the small bundle of fabric she offered, one eyebrow raised as I stared down at her in curiosity.

“What about the shirt?” I asked, and she blushed five different shades of pinks and reds, making her just that much cuter. It made me want to eat her whole, and the fact that she stood a few good feet under me didn’t help that at all. I knew I could break her so easily.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I felt like I could slap myself over how silly I was behaving over something so ordinary. Why would Tom care about me having an ex? It was only natural, it’s not like I was a blushing virgin nun who never did anything slightly out of the ordinary. Sex was ordinary. I’ve done it before. I’m sure Tom wouldn’t assume I hadn’t.

Oh, what am I saying? There’s no way he has even considered this subject when it comes to me. Why on Earth would he be thinking about my sexual past? What is going on with me? I feel like I’m going insane. 

I could feel just how warm my face had gotten, but I still had some amount of pride in me to salvage the situation, so I managed to roll my eyes as I pushed Tom further inside my house, in the direction of my bathroom.

“You’re a smart man, you can figure out where the shirt came from.” His chuckle shouldn’t be so sexy, but what about this man wasn’t?

“That’s not the answer I hoped for.” And with that mysterious sentence, he locked himself in my bathroom and left me alone with my thoughts. Granted, most of them revolved around him, so I couldn’t really say I was that alone, but the lack of someone to talk to only meant that my mind was swirling and a lot of different things I shouldn’t be thinking about managed to dominate my head. 

Just what did he mean by what he said? Could it be that he… No, of course not. There was no reason for him to be jealous of me. It’s not like he could possibly want me. Right?

I spent the entire time he was taking a shower stuck in the same pattern of thoughts, so much so that I didn’t even notice he had come back to the kitchen and was watching me from the doorway until he cleared his throat, making me jump out of my skin while carrying a plate full of very hot lasagna.

“Oh,” was all I said as I felt some of the sauce spill on my hand and my chest, some even managing to get on my face. But Tom’s rough ‘Shit’ brought a giggle to my lips, despite the discomfort of the slight burning sensation on my skin. 

“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I thought you’d noticed me standing here.” While he assured me of his lack of intention to hurt me - as if I didn’t already know- he had grabbed the plate I was still holding onto and placed it on the counter, quickly procuring an already dirty rag and eagerly starting to clean me up, first my hand, and then…

Before he pressed the fabric to my chest, he looked up at me, his beautiful eyes catching mine and making me suck in a breath. “T-that’s alright,” I managed to get out, trying to look away from his hypnotizing gaze. “It doesn’t really hurt that bad. I think with a bit of cold water it might calm down.”

He nodded, agreeing with my words, but his gaze still searched mine for something I didn’t understand. “I sure hope so,” was all he said initially, his eyes finally dropping from mine to focus on the task at hand. “But I must say, I’m very disappointed.”

The comment puzzled me, rendering me useless for the time being. I could only tilt my head as I looked down at him, still crouching in front of me to clean my chest before he finally stood up on his full height and grabbed my face, gently engulfing it in one of those huge palms of his.

“I was really hoping that you were single, but I guess that would be expecting too much from the universe, considering how beautiful you are.” My eyes grew twice their normal size as I immediately tried to push him away and hide my face from his view, suddenly incredibly shy. But of course, he didn’t let me, instead pressing me against the counter and his very hard body, while he very carefully wiped away the few drops of sauce on my cheek.

For a few seconds, I let him work in silence, still trying to gather my nerves so I could say something. I should say something, shouldn’t I? I mean, here lies an opportunity that I never thought I’d experience, and here I was, being all silly about it. Finally, when he had at last finished slowly rubbing the rag against my skin, and seemed to be about to separate himself from me, I sprung into action, pulling him to me again by his forearms. 

“I-I am,” that’s all I managed to say, immediately cringing at my own lack of social skills. “Single, I mean.” Very smooth. Well done, Y/N. But despite my stupidity, it seemed that I was able to achieve my intention, since my sentence made Tom finally get rid of the rag and hold my face between both of his hands now, his thumbs softly running over my cheekbones.

“Oh, is that so?” He breathed out against my skin, our lips inches away from one another, and I shivered against my best wishes. That reaction caused a predatory smirk to appear on his face, and I knew then and there that I was in way over my head. “Good to know,” he whispered, and then his lips were on mine, forcing me to accept his tongue, eating me whole. 

He tasted like peppermint and coffee and I was already addicted to his taste, hoping to God I tasted as great to him as he did to me. At least, he didn’t complain. In fact, by the way he sucked on my tongue, forcing his deep inside my mouth, I’d go as far as to say that he did like what he tasted. 

Before long, he had pulled me up on the counter, his hands holding me by my waist as his lips ventured from my mouth to my jaw, until they found a spot on my neck that made me gasp and hold his shirt tightly, and then he was sucking, rolling his tongue on the spot where I could already feel a bruise forming, before his teeth carved their own impressions on my skin, imprinting himself on me.

My head swirled with the force of the emotions bursting through me. My legs wrapped themselves around his strong body, and I was happy that my hands knew what to do when my mind hadn’t still managed to catch up to this turn of events. When his tongue came out to lick right over my collarbones, the response gasp he elicited from me came out sounding much more like a sob than anything else.

“You’re so sensitive, princess,” He teased me, still otherwise occupied with marking my skin as his. “I’ve barely even started and here you are…” His hands ran through the expanse of my body, like he was showing his proof to an audience. “... a mess already.”

He wasn’t wrong. I was somehow dripping already. I could feel it, dripping from inside of me, slowly ruining the panties I was wearing. They were so not appropriate for the activities I was currently partaking in, but how the hell would I have known this was going to happen?

All I knew was that Tom had lit the fire inside of me, and now the flames were threatening to swallow us both.

Tom’s P.O.V.

She was just too cute, so out of breath and trembling with desire with the little I’d done to tease her. It just made me want to ruin her even more. My little neighbor, so perfect and sweet, so needy for me.

She didn’t even realize she had started to grind herself against me, in search of some sort of release. Well, I wasn’t about to cut her off. Unstead, I took advantage of my grip on her, pulling her body until I was the one keeping her up, trapped between my body and the counter.

“Rub your tiny wet cut against my jeans, love,” I ordered in a demanding whisper right on her ear, making her shiver. She obeyed without any sort of hesitation, looking up at me underneath her eyelashes with her eyes glazed over with lust. “That’s it…” Fuck if the pressure wasn’t exactly what I needed to help ease up some of the tension from the need I was feeling in my veins. “Rub yourself against my hard cock, don’t be shy.”

My words seemed to be gasoline for her, giving her the push she needed to grind herself even harder against my bulge. I decided to help her, pushing her more firmly against the counter and following the movements, rejoicing in the pleasure gasp that escaped her lips as the added pressure provided more friction to her clit.

“Fuck…” She whispered, and I think that in the entirety of the four months of conversations I’d entertained with her, that was the first time I’d heard her cuss. The four letter word I was so familiarized with had a new, unexpected effect on me, making the situation inside my pants so difficult I had to stop my movements and slow hers down by her hips, so I wouldn’t just jizz on my pants like a fucking teenager. 

But Y/N didn’t stop, despite accepting my silent request to decrease the fervor of our activities. When I finally managed to get control over myself again, I realized why. She had gripped the counter behind her and was using it to better control her movements, and it was clear by the way her head hung back and her mouth fell open that she was about to cum just like that.

“Shit,” I cussed just as the realization hit, and it felt like all of the control I’d managed to build in the last few seconds I closed my eyes had suddenly escaped through the window. My cock was painfully hard again, and all I could think of was that I needed to get out of these fucking jeans.

Who could blame me, though? When she looked like that, creaming her panties with her clothes still on? Shit, I couldn’t wait to get her naked and underneath me. I needed to feel her from the inside, explore her wetness with my hard cock.

But first, I was desperate to get a taste of her. So as soon as her breathing came back to a somewhat regular pattern, I was careful to put her on the ground again, making sure she was able to stand on her own legs, before dropping to my knees in front of her.

“What are you… Oh.” I couldn’t help but to chuckle at the innocence of her mind that stopped her from immediately understanding what I intended to do, but then I was pushing her skirt up and away from my view and her panties were in front of me and they were drenched, absolutely ruined by the sticky liquid that made my mouth water. 

“Fuck, princess…” I moaned as I carefully peeled the cotton fabric down her legs, keeping it pooled around her ankles as I pushed her legs open as far as they could go. She was dripping, a single line of her wetness connecting both of her thighs, making me groan at the sight. “You might just kill me…” I commented before reaching up to pull her to me, effectively burying my face on her.

“T-Tom!” The sound of my name escaping her lips with that reverent tone left me even hungrier for her, as did her exquisite taste. It painted my tongue with its sweetness, embedding itself in my cells, making sure I’d never be able to forget it. I already knew I’d be hungry for her again the second I pulled away from her cunt.

Nonetheless, I forced myself to stop for a moment to gather my senses, as her taste made it harder and harder to control my need to relieve my aching member. I needed to be inside of her, and quickly. 

Abruptly rising up to my full height, I picked her up by the back of her thighs so she’d wrap her legs around me and took us to where I’d assumed her bedroom would be, considering I was familiarized with the general layout of the apartments. The second I laid her on the bed, my hands were struggling with my own belt, as I watched her pull her dress over her head, now completely bare before me.

“You’re so fucking hot.” When my pants dropped to the floor and my cock slapped my lower stomach, I pounced on her immediately, crawling on the space between her legs and pulled her by the back of her neck to connect our lips once more. “Do you want to be railed tonight, pretty neighbor?”

She fucking whimpered in response, repetitions of “yes” and “please” escaping her lips as she tried to pull me closer to her by the legs she embraced me with. Not having it in me to stop this moment any longer, I gripped my member with one of my hands while I held her hips down with the other, briefly rubbing the blunt head of my cock over her sensitive clit before pushing myself completely inside of her.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, blindsided by the tightness, wetness and warmness that now surrounded me. “I knew your cunt would be fucking delicious.” I watched her as I pulled out until just my tip was inside of her, only to push it back in as forcefully as I could.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her hands flew up to hold my shoulders, almost as if she wanted to push me away or tell me to take it easy, but as her legs continued to pull me even deeper inside, I knew what she really needed was to be properly fucked.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Tom was not exaggerating; he really did pound me against my mattress, immediately setting up the most brutal of paces. It hurt, especially with how much he was stretching me, but it felt too fucking good to complain about it.

The only thing I could do was to relax and accept this invasion, this possession of my body by my next-door neighbor. I knew I must have been quite a vision, my arms thrown up in search of something to hold on to, spit escaping the corner of my lips by the intensity of the thrusts, my breasts shaking as he pulled me back to meet his thrusts by my hips. I hoped I’d have some bruises on the shape of his fingertips to remember this night.

Not like I would ever be able to forget, anyway. Only a lunatic would expel the visions of Tom looking like this while fucking them, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, the sweat gathering over his eyebrows. I wanted to kiss it away. I wanted to taste its saltiness. 

Just as my head began to twirl in time with the growth of arousal in my lower belly, Tom’s eyes travelled upwards from the point where his cock was buried inside of me to find my breasts, one of his hands immediately following suit. When his pull on my nipple was accompanied by the feeling of his warm mouth engulfing the other one, I screamed as I came all around him, my head thrown back and eyes closed as I relished in the feeling of being so perfectly filled, so perfectly touched.

“Fuckin’ tight.” Tom fucked me through my orgasm, but at the sight of my eyes blinking back open, he pulled out, easily manhandling me into turning around and rising on all fours. “This fucking ass… Do you have any idea how long I dreamt about fucking you like this?”

I didn’t know how, but his words and the way his huge hands sprawled over the cheeks of my butt reignited the flames that had just been fed, and I found myself pushing back against him, offering myself up to him. Anything to get his cock inside of me again.

“Please…” I all but begged, and I heard his breath hitching behind me. “Just… please keep fucking me.” Perhaps that was all that he needed, because in a second his cock was tearing me open again, so fucking deep that I could feel it in my stomach. 

“Fuck… If I had known how it would look to have my little perfect neighbor begging for my cock, I would have fucked you ages ago.” Every single thing that came out of that man’s mouth was like sin. He wrapped my hair around his fist, suddenly using it to pull me back to him as he raised one of his legs to the mattress, the new angle making each of his thrusts hit that spot inside of me that made everything just a little more satisfying. 

I could feel tears running down my cheeks, falling on my spread out hands as I struggled to keep breathing through his assault on my senses. “Are you gonna cum again, love?” I could hear him asking, and I wanted to answer, I really did, but every time I opened my mouth, only sobs came out. “Are you? Here, let me help you out.”

The feeling of his rough fingers softly caressing my clit was such a stark contrast to the way he was still brutally pounding into me that instead of trying to push him away from my much too sensitive lower region, I opened my eyes in surprise as another orgasm took over me, somehow even stronger than the previous ones.

“Yeah, that’s it… Fuck. Come for me, sweetheart. Wanna feel your cunt milking my fucking cock.” His words did nothing to help ease my arousal, and just when my arms started to give out, I felt him spilling inside of me. “FUCK!” He shouted, following my body’s motions until he was covering me with his own torso, still very much inside of me.

His thrusts finally coming to a stop after he had slowly fucked his cum inside of me, I felt his thumbs caressing my hips as I remained face planted on my mattress. “Well, this isn’t how I expected this night to go, but I can’t say I’m not satisfied.”

A snort was all I could give him as he finally pulled out and allowed his body to fall by my side, giving me a quick kiss on the shoulder that was closer to him. “You ok?” He asked, and I snorted again.

“More than okay. You still haven’t eaten though.” It was the truth. After all of this… incredible distraction from my cooking plans, he still hadn’t gotten around to eat dinner. I heard him take a deep breath next to me as he pondered his answer. 

“Really? ‘Cause I remember eating some very delicious pussy a few minutes ago.” It took me a few minutes to process what he had said, but when I did, I turned around to playfully hit his chest while feeling my face warm up from the reality of what we had just done.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re hot.” And when he put it in such simple terms, as he pulled me in his arms so that I could cuddle his chest, how could I feel embarrassed?

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Mice in the Walls

CW: stalking, implied parental abuse, implied victim cutting ties with abuser, captivity, “it” as a pronoun meant to demean, choking, hitting, implied delusions, angry whumper, controlling whumper. 

Please read the CWs on this one. I’ll be more than happy to give you a general summary if you need (will probably do so anyway) let me know if you want a specific tag, and I’ll tag everything with this topic “Bernard tw” as he’s the culprit. 

Stay Safe loves, and do what’s best for you. 

[First Part] 

The doorbell rang and Bernard took a breath. As he opened the door, he put on his smile. The friendly smile, the inviting smile. The one he used at work and for the cashier at the checkout lane.

The mask. 

“Steven! How the hell are you?” he asked cheerfully, reaching out for a firm handshake. 

“Doing well, life’s just a joy.” The body smiled back at him, cheap wine in its hand and absurdly  ignorant of how pedestrian and mediocre its life was. Bernards eye’s skimmed over the man’s obnoxious shirt pattern, its ill filling slacks and cheap shoe polish before opening the door wider and gesturing it in with a smile. 

“Well, I didn’t invite you over just to stand on my porch! Come on in, lunch’s almost ready.” He had prepared some simple things, mostly store bought. He had no intention of trying to impress this pawn. 

“So Bernie, what’s new in the Wright household?” Steven asked lightly, setting down the bottle of wine and peering at the others displayed. Perhaps it would spark some recognition of how abject of a gift that had been. 

Bernard doubted. 

“Nothing much, Steve. Just livin the good life,” he recited as he ventured into the kitchen. 

“How’s Adam doing?” 

Bernard kept his back to the man, dishing out the potato salad. 

“Oh good, getting ready to graduate.” 

He could feel Steven pause behind him. 

“Oh? I thought something got jostled when he moved schools?” 

He bristled. Adam had moved, again. Always moving, blocking his numbers, spreading lies about him. How did he not realize that he just wanted the best for him? That he could help, that he could be a resource? The world wasn’t what Adam though it was, it was dangerous and hateful and-

The plastic container cracked. 

“What was that?” Steven asked, popping its head over Bernard’s shoulder. 

“Damn cheap plastic. Good thing I already got some out, eh?” His voice was pitched light and jovial, softly concealing his rage.  He put the now broken container to the side and picked up the bowl to set on the table between them. 

Bernard ate almost in silence, the body across from him droning on and on about the most inconsequential, mundane things. Its wife, its car, the remodeling of its house. It was pitiful. Nearly fifty-years of existence with only the most boring of conversations to show for it. Surface level, meaningless accolades that only made it seem more pathetic for how much it cared. 

The only time he found himself truly paying attention was when the conversation turned to the man’s daughters. They were also highly inconsequential, but they were the link that he had been searching for. 

They knew Adam. 

“Kesly is doing great, just about to finish high school. Man, can you believe it? Feels like just yesterday she was playing princess and pirate and now my baby’s going to college. Maddie’s just made varsity at her school.” 

Steven took another sip of its drink and winked conspiratorially at Bernard. “If Adam still plays then maybe they’ll face off some time, eh? She used to to whip his butt when they played in middle school.” 

Bernard squinted slightly with a toothy smile. “Only because he let her. And he’s gotten far better over the years.” He hadn’t seen Adam play since then, but he could only assume that his skill had improved over time.  

He took another bite of his lunch and made a mental note to find Maddie’s school and locate what colleges were in the district for lacrosse. 

Irritatedly, the conversation shifted to something pointless again and Bernard was left to wait until it could be useful. As the time dragged on, there was a dull thud from somewhere higher in the house. 

“What was that?” Steven asked, turning around its chair to look behind and above him. 

The fork bent under Bernard’s hand. 

“I didn’t hear anything.” 

Steven shook its head, wiping its mouth with its napkin. “No, no there was definitely a noise.” 

“Oh, that,” he replied casually, taking an even breath. “There’s mice in the attic.” 

A huff. “Sounds like pretty big mice to me. I can call a buddy out if you ever need anyone to do something about it. He’ll do it real cheap, too.”

Bernard waved him away, keeping the utensil under the table and bending back to its correct shape. “No, no need. I’m handling it myself.” 

They continued to chat uselessly, meaninglessly, until Steven finally decided it had wasted enough air here and would go be pointless somewhere else. Bernard watched him leave, said the expected this was great, we need to do it again soon, see you later before locking the door, finally free of such a useless creature. 

Teddy was hiding. Or at least, closest that he got to hiding with the chain giving his location away. He was between the bed and the wall, in the small space where the roof met the floor. 

He had been reading, laying on the bed trying to get lost in the book he had already read a million times. Maybe it had worked, considering that he had fallen asleep. The book fell. 

Now he was shivering in his only hiding place, desperately hoping that no-one had been home. He wished he knew what day it was, he wished he knew the man’s schedule, he could tell went it was safe. But no, there was no safety here, no regular pattern for him to latch onto. It was hell. 

The locked clatter and the ladder slunk down, filling him with fear. He was here, he had heard it. Teddy curled a hand around the bedpost. 

“Come out.” 

He didn’t, he couldn’t. He didn’t want to go back in the coal shed, didn’t want to be punished. It was an accident, and even then he was afraid that the nearly-memorized books would be taken away. 

“Now,” the man growled. Teddy shook his head and held on harder. 

Bernard groaned and wrapped the chain around his hand once, then twice, then pulled. The boy was still holding on so Bernard pulled again, harder this time. There was a small cry and a dragging noise as Teddy was pulled from behind the bed. 

Bernard looked down at him and only one thought screamed back in his head. 

Adam moved. 

Adam had moved again. 

He had moved, and blocked his number, his profiles, ever way that Bernard could contact his son were shut down, forbidden from him. He cut him out, disrespected him, shamed him left him to suffer through hours of meaningless conversation just for the smallest bits of information. 

Looking down, Bernard couldn’t contain his anger any longer. 

“You switched schools? Again? Without consulting with me? You ungrateful bastard,” he sneered, kicking the boy in his ribs. He yelped, eyes wide with fear. Good. He should be afraid, he should be ashamed of his pathetic behavior. He had been taught better than to disrespect him like this.

Teddy coughed and froze, tears starting to pour from his eyes. No, no no not this again. “Please,” he coughed, rolling onto his side. “Please I’m not Adam.” Every cough hurt, sending little bolts of pain through his chest and side. Still, he looked up to the man, staring into the steel cold eyes. 

“M-My name is Theodore Ramirez,” he rambled quickly, not for the first time. “My parents are Diana and Jonathan, they live in-” 

“NO!” The man shouted, pinning it down and wrapping his hands around its neck. No! No, no no no this! Stop! He squeezed, putting more and more weight on it’s thin throat. He would make it stop. 

Teddy wheezed, shoulders pinned down by the man’s knees. He was on top of him, he was choking him, he was killing him. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Struggling was useless, the man being so much larger than him. His clipped nails left practically no marks, drew no blood. 

“Don’t. You. Ever say that again,” growled, lifting its neck to slam it back into the wood. “Never. You are Adam, and you’re going to stay this time.” He loosened his grip the slightest bit. 

“Understand?” His question only had one correct answer. Teddy knew it, didn’t have enough air left to deny it. His head still spun from the blows, a loud ringing obstructing some of the words. 

“Y-Yes,” he managed, only the ghost of a noise. “Yes, I’m Adam. I’m sorry - I’m Adam.” The pressure let up more and more as he complied. By the end, the man was only resting his hands over the boy’s throat. 

Bernard signed and raised a hand to brush it across Adam’s cheek gently. “There. See, things are so much better when you stop lying. Let me take care of you, keep you safe.” 

The boy coughed and cried underneath him, never leaving him again.

~~

taggy boissss @whump-me-all-night-long @starnight-whump @highwaywhump @panic-and-chaos @as-a-matter-of-whump @cowboy-anon @just-a-raccoon-in-a-party-hat @milk-carton-whump

[mrsblackruby]

Hey👋🏿 hope you’re having a nice day 😊

Sorry for cross tagging but the harassment is getting out of hand. Okay I’m a Billy Hargrove fan willing to make a cross tag post [which turned into a 5 part series ] discussing how to treat and respect fans in the strangers things community. I’m hoping to showcase behavior we shouldn’t engage in when we see someone who likes a character who we dislike. I’m also hoping to start a respectful discussion to help anyone on tumblr who doesn’t understand Billy fans but wants to understand them.Let’s hope this doesn’t become overwhelming 😳

I’m open to fair criticism. Let me know if you interpret a post differently than me if you want. Please let me know your opinions if you have them.

Don’t worry I also want to be respectful to those who don’t like Billy because you have ur reasons to not like his character and connect to fiction however you want to connect to fiction. I want to make things clear I’m not trying to make a moral condemnation of anyone who has engaged in the behavior I critic in this post. There are much bigger problems in the world but I’m so passionate about this one because I’m a person of color who connects to Billy’s story arc and the way some antis treat Billy fans is just cruel. Billy fans are real people who exist and their stories have real life consequences. Online harassment in fandom is not excusable because it is still harassment.

This post is long as FUCK and will have different parts but even tho it’s long I find the conversation to still be interesting so keep that in mind if you read I’ll try to reblog it and pinned it on my blog for ease. There’s a lot to discuss and this conversation should be dealt with care. I will also have the different parts linked at the end of each post. ( I’m also a stupid teenager pls be kind)

I worked so hard on this.

Please share this if you want because I believe our fandom can combat the environment of harassment online we see. Nobody deserve this type of treatment for hyper-fixating on a fictional character that gives them comfort!

Tw for all parts// harassment, racism, discussion of abuse, and abuse apologia, death threats, spoilers for strangers things season 1-3

Tw for this part// harassment, racism, fictional suicide mentioned

I have taken screenshots to reference and prove the behavior I critic but I have gotten rid of all identifying content as to avoid further harassment. Please don’t go out looking to harass anyone. Let me know if I need to add any warnings. this is a somewhat serious, heavy, and layered discussion. We are talking about how humans connect to fiction here so it’s bound to be complex.

[important Note for entire series] All these posts are recent by the way just to show case the harassment is still and ongoing issue even tho Billy has been “ dead” for quite a while now. He might have killed him self but Billy is still my rat man. let me love 😍him.

The Harassment of Billy Hargrove Fans #1

“Okay let’s get started”

Assumptions and cruel judgments of Billy fans

In this Twitter post someone makes the assertion that being a Billy Hargrove fan is a red flag. I’m aware that this is not a tumblr user but I have seen some of this sentiment on tumblr. I will begin by criticizing this post because someone being a fan of a fictional character doesn’t make them and inherent threat to anybody’s personhood. I get that the person who posted this may even agree with what I just argued, that Billy fans aren’t a real life threat, but that’s not what is being communicated at all when someone reads this especially when a fan of Billy reads this. And if someone out there does believe this for one reason or another I’m going to continue to dispute your claim. Some Billy fans might engage in problematic behavior but to hold a layer of apprehension towards all fans of a character because of this might be something you need to reevaluate. Making a moral judgment on real human beings because they like a character is not okay especially if you don’t even know the reasoning.

Just because someone likes a character that might be a mass murderer in fiction doesn’t mean that now they support massacres, correct? Same logic applies here if someone does interpret Billy as racist but still likes his character that does not mean they think racism in the real world is okay ( or bullying, harassment, or anti feminism either) and that does not mean they can’t organize against real world problems effectively.

This is a crude assumption

First things first not every who likes Billy ships Harringrove

As a Harringrove shipper I can only speak for myself and say I could give less of a fuck if Billy is “good” or “bad”. That’s doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to smash king Steve. That’s also doesn’t mean he can’t be queer and it doesn’t mean I can’t like the ship. And it doesn’t mean that I can’t connect to Billy on a disastrously queer level ( got that phrasing from a grade A post on this hell site)

Believing Billy can see the errors in his ways and can heal and become a “good” person… doesn’t have to be a byproduct of being a shipper. it can just be a read someone has of a character so “anon” no disrespect to ya but your thinking is wrong.

Okay this is gonna be lengthy

Fine some Billy fans ignore the shit he did… but that’s not inherently bad. Fans can headcannon Billy into a completely different portrayal than what we see on screen and love him I don’t see a problem with that especially when they aren’t excusing any abuse.

The Duffers brothers failed at exploring racism in their show if that was their intention. Point blank period since this is a form of art it can be interpreted in many different perspectives. Especially if it is not tied to any explicit themes on racism in the text. I interpret Billy’s actions as racist but no one has to do so if they connect to the story in a different manner. I felt the weight of Billy’s “ certain type of people” comment. However it was only and implication not a confirmation. Stop being mad at people for not interpreting something left up to interpretation.The writers didn’t explicitly tackle the issue they wanted to tackle.

This might be helpful 2 know …I interpret Billy as racist, I’m also black, I also Stan Billy Hargrove.

Okay here we go… no-one has to interpret Billy’s actions as being racist so why assume that if someone likes Billy it’s because they’re racist just like him… if they don’t even think he’s racist. I hope that makes sense

I think Billy is racist 4 sure the story flows better for me that way and it makes a lot of sense to me. Now let’s talk about racism in the real world … racism is something that is taught. Racism is a big large system we are all conditioned into. Racism is something we must all unlearn in the real world. So in the fictional world I think there is an entertaining plot line that Billy can go down and unlearn his racism +stop beating up on children Billy 🤦🏿‍♀️. Because I see that potential growth that is why I like his character. Oh and no one ever talks about this but I head cannon Billy as fat phobic because of the “lard- ass” comment so my version of Billy is working through that as well.

I don’t wanna sound all high and mighty I can understand why someone might express this sentiment. I’m not gonna demonize someone who is black like me (black people have dealt with that enough). I also get why you would not even like Billy if you interpret him as racist. [Someone could have the same analysis of Billy as me and still not like him because how we connect to fiction is somewhat irrational.] I would just ask that we don’t jump to conclusions about anyone’s politics because of how they like a fictional character. That we treat other members in our fandom with respect.

I can never and will never excuse racism because if I do I would be turning a blind eye on a system that kills my loved ones. Your allowed to not like Billy Hargrove honestly I don’t see any Billy fans who care? Stop making crude assumptions about people who do Stan Billy Hargrove ur “ joke” is a hurtful misrepresentation.

Lol like #notallbillyfans am I right guys 👉🏿

*crickets sounds and booing*

okay sorry let’s move on…

The problem I hope i highlighted is that you can not make inherent claims to thy morals of a human being because they like a fictional character.😂

Stand alone post: Me reading to much into the politics of Billy Hargrove/ Harringrove

THE 5 PART SERIES ON HARASSMENT:

#2 #3 #4 #5

[storiesungaa]

mobile rules & information

Since people don’t read rules all the way through i would like to preface this by saying: TRIGGERING MATERIAL WILL BE WRITTEN HERE. THIS INCLUDES BUT IS NOT LIMITED TO: INCEST, DUBCON, SUICIDAL IDEALATIONS, CHEATING, AND ANYTHING ELSE I WANT TO WRITE. BY CLICKING FOLLOW, YOU AGREE TO BLACKLIST THE TAGS PROVIDED IN THE FORM OF (trigger here) tw. DO NOT FOLLOW ME IF YOU THINK FICTION EQUALS REALITY OR IN ANYWAY HAS ANY REFLECTION ON A MUN’S MORAL STANDING. 

HATE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED AND ANY ANON’S I GET ABOUT THIS THAT IS HATE WILL BE BLOCKED/NOT AT ALL ACKNOWLEDGED.

THANK YOU.

about: this is an indie mutuals only rp blog for a multimuse with various fandoms from tv shows, movies, anime, and video games. mun is 25+, genderfluid lesbian, goes by he/him pronouns (but i am genderfluid so i don’t mind she/her pronouns, most just call me he/him) online and name Jay. Previously known as Ares and Snow.

Callout culture: Do not involve me in this. Period. I want no part of it and will block as soon as I see it, tagged or not. I believe it does more harm than good and something like tha is extremely harmful..

content: there will be some pretty heavy material featured here. such as suicidal thoughts, mentions of rape, incest, and anything else I want to write. I will not tolerate hate being sent to me about this and I will block anyone who tries to police me. The only hard limit i have and absolutely refuse to write is pedophilia.

Don’t ever be afraid to ask me to tag something!

side note: if you believe fiction equals reality, please don’t follow me.

discord: is open to those who follow me. simply ask for it. i do not write on discord though. ooc contact is highly encouraged!

disclaimer: i'm in no way affiliated with any of the actors, fandoms, or characters on this blog.  Banners, promos, and icons belong to me. Theme was made by inkfated.  all screencaps used to turn into icons on this blog are not mine and belong to their rightful owners. Lara Croft screencaps come from soulcluster. tsunade icons belong to hellspath. rectangle tsunade icons belong to me. Some psds are not mine. Credit to iconholic for Red Velvet psd. Credit to plutocommissions for psd 183 - wild. some psds used are made by rivercraze

Drama: There won’t be any. I’m too old for tumblr’s drama, if you try to start something, make me choose, or drag me into drama - you will be blocked.

DNI’s will get you blocked. I don’t agree with making people choose between people when there are things like blacklist and tumblr’s own filtering system to help you avoid a person

Hate: Character hate, show hate, etc will get you unfollowed. I don’t have time for that negativity, pls tag it so I can filter it out, thank you.

IMs: pls refrain from sending me multiple messages all at once as I’m autistic and it sends me into sensory overloads!!

follow/unfollowing: i usually follow back pretty quick. if i don't follow within a week, i'm probably not going to follow back. 9/10 i do follow back. i will not follow if i see vaguing, callouts, or any sort of drama on blogs. i also will not follow any under the age of 18.

if i’ve been following you for a month and you don’t interact with me within that time limit, I’m unfollowing. I won’t soft block because I’m totally okay with people still following me but I don’t see the point in following if we’re not gonna write.

If I do not follow you back, do not message me asking to write or become mutuals - you will be blocked.

If I block you, do not come to me asking why. It will only get you blocked all over again. Do not ask why i’ve unfollowed you, either.

DO NOT FOLLOW ME IF YOU’RE A MINOR.

side note: if you’re the type to blindly believe a callout because that’s what everyone else is doing  save yourself the trouble and don’t follow me.

Memes: Send as many as you want for as many muses as you want just be sure to specify muse or they’ll get deleted! Always feel free to turn meme answers into threads, too.

Do not use me as a meme resource. Send something in or reblog from the source, please.

note:  if you send memes multiple times and there’s clearly a way to continue them, ESPECIALLY if we’ve never interacted before, and you keep sending memes but have NO INTENTIONS on replying to them, I will be less likely to respond to them. memes, in my eyes, are used as alternatives to starters. if you don’t respond to them after i’ve responded to quite a few, that’s me putting work into it for no reason really, so yeah.

My triggers: Sharks. That’s it. Just tag pictures of sharks for me please

nsfw: smut will be present here. i can not play the dominant party in smut, please don't ask me too. if you don't feel comfortable with it, we can fade to black, easy peasy. i won't make myself uncomfortable for some smut. All muses involved in smut or ships are 18+. If you think that aging them up is pedophila, do me a favor and get off my blog. Smut may happen with aged up characters but that does not mean it was done specifically for smut. Do not assume.

OCS: I love them. Send them my way, please!

OOC:  I post ooc, sometimes quite a bit, sometimes rarely. I am human and I will act as such. I will not tag ooc posts mostly bc i’ll forget. Sorry if that bugs people but like i said, I’m human and I like to write things down and share things with the dash.

OOC note: please do not flirt with me or ask me to date you, thank you!

Shipping: all muses are LGBT+ in some shape or form so if you want to ship, just let me know. They’re pretty open to anyone, though gay and lesbian muses will stay gay and lesbian. I ship toxic pairings and incest so if that’s your cup of tea, just lemme know, and we can work something out if not? That’s alright too!!

As previously stated, all ships and smut scenes are involved with characters 18+. I will never under any circumstance write something with underage characters. Characters, however, can be aged up but are never simply just for the sake of smut. Smut may happen with aged up characters but that does not mean it was done specifically for smut. Do not assume.

wait time: sometimes i can take months, sometimes seconds, sometimes days. I’m not a fast rper, please respect this.

writing: i generally prefer writing multi-para or novella. one-liners or one-paragraphs usually end up getting dropped or made into much longer threads as i have absolutely no chill. 

edit: from now on any drafts that are below three paras will be deleted, i don’t have muse for short things.

End note: Do me a favor and like this post if you’ve read my rules. Not needed but deeply appreciated. Also below you’ll find important links:

MUSES & NAVIGATION & MUSE INTEREST CHECKER & SHIP INTEREST CHECKER & COMMISSIONS INFORMATION & MOBILE MUSE LIST & THREAD TRACKER

[quidfree]

can you Please write the scene with bakugou's piercing SGDHEFEH the concept is too funny to me !!!

anon you’re lucky 報復性熬夜 is a concept i am firmly attached to so here i am at 1 am rattling this off instead of getting my beauty sleep. please excuse the standard of writing as a result

by the second day, katsuki is seriously considering agreeing to todoroki’s earlier and ambiguously sincere proposal that they play i spy.

he doesn’t know what it is about this particular job that’s so unbearable. no, scratch that- of course he knows what’s unbearable; it’s sat right next to him on a too-small chair in their too-small room staring impassively out of a too-small window. but he’s been thrown into so much shit with icyhot you’d think he’d developed some kind of immunity by now, the way vaccines microdose you on viruses so you can resist the real thing. call katsuki an antivaxxer, he guesses, because he has overdosed on todoroki ever since he met the asshole and he’s still not ready for how far up the wall he’s driving him when they’re stuck together for two straight days without a breather or any contact with the outside world.

cards on the table: stake-outs aren’t his thing. he does them just fine, fuck you very much, but he doesn’t like ‘em. why would he? they’re some ungodly blend of extremely boring and extremely tense, where nothing happens right up until way too long into it and then everything goes to shit unprompted. it’s rare he ever gets called in on jobs like this- people tend to assume he lacks the temperament for it, for one, and for another he’s too useful to lock away for days on end. it’s only because their suspected target is so insanely volatile and dangerous that it’s the two of them waiting for her to show her ugly face- no one else is even allowed in the perimeter. which is fucking fine, but he just wishes the cops would get their shit together for once and actually have the proof ready by the time they call the pros in so he doesn’t have to wait before he goes in guns blazing. instead they talked some bullshit about how critical of a stage this was and blah blah fifteen years of (obviously mediocre) work had gone into setting this trap, etc etc. the point is that it’s led to katsuki stuck in the world’s most disgusting little apartment, staring out of a splintered window for two-going-on-three days with no one but the world’s most annoying prodigy to keep him company. the place is such a dump they’re sleeping on mats in sleeping bags. it’s like fucking UA summer camp, and at this point he’d take the kidnapping over the waiting.

day one wasn’t so bad, right up until he realized there would be a day two. day two is bad from start to finish. they’re supposed to take turns on watch but there’s fuck all else to do except sit on their phones, and katsuki can only quote tweet so much dumb shit before he gets bored. he can’t talk to anyone outside because of confidentiality bullshit, and there’s no point checking work shit when he can’t do anything from where they are. so it’s either silently watching the warehouse or talking to todoroki, and todoroki is a fucking terrible conversationalist.

the thing with icyhot is this: katsuki doesn’t hate him, okay. like, he hates him, but also not really. they’re, at a push, maybe, sort of, friends. verging on close ones. not that he’d say so, but after the amount of dramatic self-sacrifices and final stands against a joint enemy they’ve endured he can’t really muster the energy to argue otherwise. todoroki’s tolerable, sort of maybe. usually katsuki borderline likes working with him, because if nothing else he’s good at what he does, and they know each other too well to be anything but in sync in the field. if they were doing almost anything else he’d be relieved at the choice of pairing.

they are not, however, doing anything else, and todoroki still fucking sucks at talking like a normal person. when he’d woken katsuki up for his shift of night-watch he’d loomed over him ominously like a fucking ghoul and said, voice belying no humor: “do you think plants can feel pain?”

there’s fucking nothing to talk about. anything interesting is essentially vetoed because it’d inevitably distract them from the whole intent observation thing, and katsuki hates small talk on a normal day but especially when todoroki’s doing his ‘alien attempting earth dialect’ bit and asking him about weather or the tokyo transportation system or whatever. so they just sit in semi-silence and occasionally go on very stupid tangents katsuki is glad no one can witness and remain overall bored out of their fucking skulls.

by day three they’ve already exhausted i spy and also the alphabet game and hangman, and katsuki draws the line at tic-tac-toe. todoroki looks implacable as always but his eye has started twitching a little. katsuki tries to think of literally anything that could plausibly take up their time and not take their eyes off the window, comes up short. twister is not a good idea even ignoring their lack of a board. shop talk is so very tempting, but he’s not losing this villain and wasting two days’ suffering because they get carried away on some long-winded discussion, so that’s not an option either.

“how’s your ear?” todoroki says, and at first katsuki thinks he’s really fucking lost it if he’s started asking after the wellbeing of his individual body parts, but then he remembers the last time they saw each other katsuki was throwing himself into the path of some jackass with a trumpeting quirk who nearly blew out his eardrum, so he guesses half ‘n half’s not entirely insane yet. he shrugs, shifts in his chair.

“fine. couldn’t hear shit from it for like three straight days, though. and my balance was fucked.”

“it hasn’t scarred at all.”

“yeah. lame place for a scar,” katsuki says, flexing his fingers absently. they’re all of them more roughed up than they were at UA, but talent and good healers have kept him mostly intact, give or take a few big nasties like the time he got gutted in first year or his near loss of an eye around graduation. privately he suspects genetics have dealt him a good hand, what with his gene donor’s perfect skin, but then todoroki doesn’t have that excuse and he’s not scarred anywhere ugly except the obvious, though katsuki could point blind to most of the nasties he’s accumulated under his suit.

not that he thinks about what’s under todoroki’s suit. god, he needs to get out of here.

“i don’t know,” todoroki is saying now, thoughtful. “a lot of people have ear-scars, no? from piercings.”

“that’s different,” katsuki says, immediately contrarian, even as he thinks about it. by the warehouse a truck stalls, but then moves on, lessening his momentary excitement. “most people don’t let that shit heal. unless you’re a moron there’s no point getting a hole jabbed through your ear if you’re not sure you want it.”

“would you?” todoroki asks, mildly curious, and taps his ear where katsuki can see him in the window’s reflection. “get a piercing, i mean.”

“what’s it to you?”

todoroki rolls his eyes at him like he’s being pointlessly difficult, which he maybe is a little. “i don’t know. i think it would suit you.”

“yeah?” katsuki sniffs, mollified and trying not to show it. it’s always a mistake to let icyhot know when his obvious ploys are working. “been thinking about it?”

“i can hardly sleep at night for thinking about it,” todoroki deadpans, which makes katsuki scowl and stomp down on the extremely unwarranted flush crawling up his neck in response.

“fuck off. i guess i’d do like one or two.”

“really? you always say no to tattoos.”

“that’s different. i don’t trust some asshole to draw a fucking infinity sign on my knee or whatever. sticking a hole through an ear is hard to fuck up, and you barely register it after. if you get a shitty tattoo you have to think about it all the time.”

“if it’s easy then why don’t you have any?” todoroki asks, but he sounds genuinely curious more than like he’s trying to catch him out, so katsuki thinks about it honestly.

“don’t have the time. ‘s not like i can really afford to pencil in an afternoon to the nearest parlor or whatever just for that.”

“i read you can pierce your ears with a needle.”

“i guess i haven’t fucking thought about it that much, then,” katsuki grumbles, forever irked by todoroki’s smart mouth. problem solver his ass. the guy goes around making problems for everyone.

they sit in silence for a beat, watching the breeze rattle the wooden planks barricading a window opposite them, and then he thinks needle, and does some very quick mental arithmetics to reach the conclusion that todoroki is probably also landing on, judging by the way he blinks when katsuki briefly glances his way. 

he thinks about the job, and how close he’d come to throttling todoroki during i spy, and the great dawning nothingness ahead of them for fuck knows how long still. at the very worst, they have to start moving with a needle in his ear. 

“pass me your medikit.”

todoroki does, but when katsuki unzips the pack he shifts. “it’d be easier if i did it.”

“it’s not rocket science,” katsuki mutters, considering the needle critically before glancing back out of the window. “'s not like i give a shit about precise location.”

“i’m just saying i wouldn’t have to go in blind. and you can keep watch while i do it.”

“or you can keep watch while i do. same shit.”

todoroki only shakes his head, because unlike some people who shall not be named he is not so incredibly psychosexually attached to offering help where it isn’t wanted. “fine.”

katsuki eyes the window, squints at his ear. tissue’s the best bet- he thinks he could probably manage cartilage fine, but on the off chance they have to drop everything and run he doesn’t want to accidentally snap a bone and start the fight inconvenienced. lobe it is.

“wait,” todoroki says, just when he’s focused, and then reaches over without removing his gaze from the window to press two fingers to the needle, tip going blisteringly red-hot before he releases it. cauterised. their kit’s sterilised anyway, but katsuki grunts his begrudging thanks, repositions himself. 

“wait,” todoroki says again, and this time katsuki can’t help but turn to glare at him where he’s still watchfully staring outside.

“fucking what, icyhot?”

“two seconds,” todoroki promises, gaze flickering his way for half a second with something like self-effacing amusement before he turns his eyes dutifully away and reaches his other arm around to pinch his ear, which flares cold so quickly katsuki hisses even as his cheeks heat. fucking weirdo.

“could’ve just said,” he mutters, ignoring his not at all jumpy pulse to refocus on the task at hand as todoroki does that obnoxious lip-twitch thing that means he’s smiling internally. 

physics dictates that he keep his wrist at an angle if he wants the needle to come out right, so he does, braces and jabs. it goes so easy he almost doubts his own success, not even the slightest twinge of pain ensuing. he twists for good measure, removes the needle, watches tiny beads of blood emerge from the piercing. 

well, that was anticlimactic, katsuki thinks, retrieving an anti-bacterial wipe for the needle, and then pauses, staring at the window.

“motherfucker.”

“what?”

“what the fuck am i supposed to put through this?”

todoroki’s mismatched eyes go gratifyingly wide in the window, and for one spectacularly braindead moment two of the world’s most outstanding pro-heroes stare at one another in a shitty broken window with equal amounts of retroactive dismay. 

“um,” todoroki says, or as close to ‘um’ as todoroki will ever say. katsuki wishes dearly he was still of an age where he could throw him through a wall. then his eyes focus elsewhere, sharpening with what could pass as professional focus but is mostly naked relief. “um.”

um in-fucking-deed. by the warehouse, a door has just opened a sliver.

“you owe me a fucking earring,” katsuki declares, but so fast it lacks any aggression, already halfway out the window by the time he finishes speaking, atrophied limbs reviving with an ecstatic chemical burn as fresh air hits their faces. 

god. if he ever gets stuck on stake-out duty again he’s sleeping by himself under a parked car or some shit. 

they make disgustingly quick work of the fight, in the end, days of pent-up frustration and skull-numbing boredom leaving them so bursting with power that it’s almost embarrassing for the villain, but when the first kow-towing police officer reaches them full of praise and suggestion that they handle another job he has queued up they chorus a ‘no’ so violent the guy actually jumps. 

todoroki’s not so bad, katsuki thinks fondly, watching his face slide into frigid blankness with absolutely no idea of how shitless he’s scaring the officers around them. it’s almost enough to make him forget to kick his ass for the enormously shitty banter he’d had to endure vis-a-vis his still-bleeding ear throughout the entire tragically short fight.

almost. not quite. who even knew there was a ‘gay ear’?

[whumping-every-day]

(Insert arrow here) for Callum Ask Ash if he wants a hug/headpat/physical affection of any kind, if he says yes then give him affection. Vamp bapy has been through enough and I want him and Callum happy even if Callum is awkward about it.

Thank you, Anon! I sat down with this intending to write some fluff, and... well. I don’t know what i fucking expected. xD Please enjoy, Nonnie! 

CW’s: Aftermath of torture and references to said torture, some dehumanization, reluctant/clinical/sorta creepy caretaker, comfort, alternating POV, food mention, blanket warning for Ash’s fucky headspace. 

-

Callum squints at the order. He doesn’t mind offering the vampire an affectionate touch here and there, of course; but the undeniable power dynamic has always made him hesitate. It’s the way Ash watches him; he’s always a silent shadow at Callum’s side, always so eager to obey him. (Too eager).

It’s the kind of eager that has fear behind it. Eager to please, so Callum won’t starve him; quick to obey, so Callum won’t beat him. Every action is driven by the belief that if he can’t keep Callum happy, Callum will do something horrendous to him. 

He looks at the hunter, sometimes, and Callum almost thinks that he wants to be touched. But then the hunter will clear his throat, or uncross his legs, or move, and the vampire will flinch like he’s been electrocuted, and Callum knows better. 

There’s so much about the time that Ash spent with his captors that Callum doesn’t know. But there’s a lot he can tell from what he’s seen; and the vampire is always so grateful for such small mercies. 

Even the briefest kindness still gives Ash that dazzled, awed look, and every time a little bit more of the dazed, worshipful quality stays. He could ask anything of Ash, anything at all, and the vampire would give it. 

“Hey, kid?” Callum keeps his voice soft, tries with all his might to ease what he knows is an impressive resting glare. Something still clangs in surprise in the other room, and there’s a hurriedly stifled gasp. 

There’s silence, and then the quick pattering of bare feet. Ash appears in the door frame like a phantom; his dark eyes glitter, wary compliance layered over alarm at being summoned. 

“Y-yes, Sir?” It’s soft, and Ash shifts uneasily on the balls of his feet, gaze darting from the floor to Callum’s feet and then back. 

The vampire is always so good; waiting to be fed, waiting for permission to leave his cell, waiting to be told what to do and where to go. Callum still wishes Ash wouldn’t call him Sir. But it seems to bring the vampire some comfort... and it’s better than the first thing Ash had called him. 

“I just wanted to ask you something,” the hunter says carefully, and Ash’s shoulders immediately go tense, distrust plastered all over his face. Shit. “You can say no,” Callum promises; the whites of Ash’s eyes show, like a skittish horse. 

From the vampire’s perspective, the space between it and its master is both too little and too much. The hunter moves with an unassuming grace; it’s easy to forget just how big he is, until he walks through a doorway and nearly grazes the ceiling. He’s seated, at the moment, loose and nonthreatening, and his bulk trapped safely (hah) on the other side of the work bench. 

The vampire’s instincts are still blaring a red alert. 

“Would you like a hug?” The creature startles, refocuses on Callum’s face with bewilderment. Its gaze drops then, to the hunter’s work-worn hands, his scarred forearms, the size of his biceps. The terror in its eyes has him offering again; “or I could pet your hair. Shh, shh, hey,” he murmurs. “You’re alright, bud. There’s no test here.” It’s in that same patient, soothing tone, so unusual coming out of Callum’s mouth. 

Ash’s heart hardly beats anymore, but even sluggish and undead the creature’s pulse tries to thrum. The question is a trap - there is always a trap. It hasn’t figured out where the pitfalls are, yet. And every hunter has traps to be tripped, it’s only a matter of stumbling onto them. 

“I’ll tell you what.” Callum speaks to break up the spiral he can see unfolding behind Ash’s eyes. The vampire’s gaze snaps to him, and Callum gives it a light smile and wiggles his fingers. “I’m halfway through this project. Just oiling Hugo’s gears, here.” 

The vampire’s gaze slips to the workbench, where the mechanical crow is perched. One of its wings has been removed, and Ash can see the moving gears beneath, like muscle and nerves. Hugo turns his head to the side and eyes the vampire with one beedy black eye. 

“It won’t even be another ten minutes.” The hunter speaks casually, but the vampire still shrinks under his attention. “You’ve been working hard. I’m very pleased,” he adds. “So if you’d like, you can come sit with me while I finish this. Okay? And if that means some head pats, well, that’s up to you.”  

Up to you. 

The vampire isn’t used to being a you, yet. It doesn’t know what to do with this lack of boundaries, and every step it takes feels like navigating a rigged obstacle course while blindfolded... but it knows from experience that when Callum tells it to choose something, it will have to choose. 

The vampire briefly debates the merits of fleeing back into the other room. Callum might let it go, it thinks... the hunter’s punishments have been unbelievably lax so far. He lets it sleep, lets it cower away when it’s frightened, doesn’t punish it for flinching or crying. 

It doesn’t run. 

The hunter waits patiently while the vampire stands there chewing on its bottom lip, caught between indecision and fear. If it goes closer, the hunter can grab it, hurt it...

...

But also, if it goes closer, the man can pet it. The thought crosses its mind, unbidden, that those hands are big but they’d also be warm.

There’s suspicion and something else warring behind Ash’s eyes as the vampire takes a halting step forward. It waits for a split second, for the other shoe to drop, for the hunter to spring up out of his seat and shout gotcha. 

It doesn’t happen. 

Ash - and that is something else the vampire has to be grateful for, its name. Ash inches into the hunter’s space, and it doesn’t dare take too long, lest the man lose his patience. It’s not like this is the first time it’s been close to the man - the hunter had carried it in the beginning, every day, from its cell to the lab, and then back. But this is the first time the hunter has summoned it like this, no tests to perform, no wounds to tend. 

When it stops, shoulders hunched in Callum’s shadow, there is no retribution, and no sudden, violent outburst. The hunter just nods, and he puts one of those massive hands in his lap casually, picks up the oil-stained rag with the other. 

“This won’t take long,” he says again, still soft, still careful. The vampire watches him for a moment, and Callum can feel him assessing the situation, trying to figure out how it might end. “I’d say you’ve earned a break, little one,” he murmurs, and each word is laid with intent. 

He’s pieced together by now that Ash was made to earn a lot of things, before. Blood, shelter, mercy, a slightly less heinous method of torture. The language of rewards and punishments isn’t something Callum likes to employ... but from the corner of his eye, he sees the vampire hesitate, and then loosen, like magic. 

Ash doesn’t speak again, but some of the tension has eased. Framing this as a reward had worked, which... Huh. Callum turns that over in his head for a moment. He also knows that the peace is fragile; he can’t pay the vampire any undue attention, or he’ll spook it. 

To all outward appearances, Callum is exceedingly casual, and entirely relaxed. He’s careful as he goes back to work one-handed, and he leaves the other hand in his lap, open, fingers loose. There’s a second stool beside his; Callum knows better by now than to try and force the vampire into it. 

Instead he feels the air shift as Ash sinks slowly to his knees, folding his hands in his lap. It puts the vampire at just lap height, and Callum carefully doesn’t look down as he goes back to removing, cleaning and then reinstalling Hugo’s gears. 

From where the vampire is kneeling, its palms prick with sweat. It has been summoned here and told to take a break - so of course its heart is in its throat waiting. But when it risks the tiniest glance upward, minutes after kneeling, the hunter seems to be genuinely invested in his work. 

This hunter is so smart, the creature thinks. He’s always working on something; diagrams or strange substances and powders, things that click and spark and grind. Callum calls them machines, says that they are new. But to the creature’s eyes, much of it seems like magic. 

It is glad to be allowed to sit there; Callum has been generous to give it tasks. It can be useful this way, counting arrowheads or polishing leather, or scrubbing the pots clean. It is a far kinder use than the others had for it. 

Instinct tells the creature that it’s in danger; but it squeezes its eyes shut and breathes, dredges up the hunter’s words from memory. You’ve been working hard, and I’m very pleased. 

Pleased. With it. Assuming that the human does not jest, Ash can only marvel. 

But then, the vampire reasons, if the man was displeased, surely he would have made it known by now. Surely he would correct its behavior, and not simply allow it to continue in its filthy, rotten ways. 

Something moves in the corner of its vision, and the vampire tenses - but it’s only the hunter’s hand, draped loosely again his thigh so his fingers hang free. 

Headpats are up to you, he’d said. 

His hand is close, but it’s not reaching, not tugging or yanking or grabbing. Ash casts another glance upwards, and Callum is busy, not paying any attention. Even just the simple act of being ignored is comforting - the hunter can’t be angry with it if he’s not thinking about it. 

It takes some time, but the vampire slowly, slowly starts to lean. It’s stupid, and its heart is in its throat - this is a test and it is failing, it’s failing terribly. But somehow, irrationally (desperately) the creature wants what has been offered. 

This is what the man wants. The vampire tells itself that, over and over again, to stifle its own hesitation. If it does this, it’ll be good. If it does this, it will stave off the hunter’s wrath for just a little longer. 

Callum’s leg is thick and warm when Ash finally leans into it. The creature is shivering, left-over vestiges of adrenaline rattling through its system at the touch. It holds its breath as it settles; it’s barely there, resting a fraction of its weight as it braces for the anger and yelling. 

Instead, there’s nothing. Ash’s fingernails dig furrows into his palms with how tightly he clenches them, but it’s like the hunter doesn’t even feel him. 

The ground is cold, but the hunter is warm, and it seeps through the fabric of Ash’s shirt and sinks into his side. The heat is soothing, and the vampire bites down a soft, high sound as it slumps a little further. It waits, at each stage, for the human’s reaction, and each time there isn’t one. 

Ten minutes later, Ash is curled up at Callum’s feet, resting his temple against the of the hunter’s knee. Its head is almost in his lap, and this time it barely flinches when something settles on its hair. 

The vampire peels its eyes open, and the hunter has a hand on top of its head. Ash checks again, and Callum is still occupied with his task, like the creature sitting at his feet isn’t a dangerous, blood-sucking leech. 

Then that hand moves, slow and careful; the first proper stroke makes goosebumps break out all along Ash’s arms and shoulders. He whines softly, but he quickly swallows it down; Callum’s hand pauses, and Ash’s lungs don’t work until it starts to move again. 

There has always been something to be longed for in the grace of human warmth. Eventually, the vampire even dares to nuzzle against Callum’s knee, timid and soft. The hunter huffs quietly, and his touch drifts to the back of the creature’s neck, scritching gently at its nape. 

This is the reward, the vampire thinks - or hopes. Not a break from its tasks, it’s been given a multitude of those already, far in excess. No, the reward is the touch, a mercy given without being earned or bled for. 

Its hair is still a mess, frazzled and wild - and longer, now, than it had been before. Calloused fingers pet over the brown curls, then dig deeper, nails scraping ever so lightly against its scalp. The vampire shudders in pleasure at that, and its eyes flutter halfway, murring needy in the back of its throat. 

Callum drags out the simple task of cleaning Hugo’s gears for another thirty minutes. By the time he’s finished, the crow’s gears shine like new, and Ash is purring, slumped bodily against Callum’s legs and head fully in the hunter’s lap. Callum watches him for a moment, dark lashes against soft cheeks, and feels something fierce and protective stir in his chest. 

For Ash, time has started to blur again. The creature knows what it feels like to have the passage of day and night lose their meaning, but this is different. This is pure bliss, a thrill that starts at the back of its spine and trickles in shivers down its back. 

It doesn’t know what it did to be worthy of such a kindness. (something, it must have done something.) But it hopes, this time, that if it keeps trying to be good, if it’s small and silent and sweet enough... maybe it can earn this sort of reward again. 

[END]

Tagging the vampire gang this time :3    @wildfaewhump @pepperonyscience @robinsdoghouseofwhump @angelsuperwholock @pennsss @silver-sparrow-462 @silverinkgoldenquill @kestrelspaverius @learningtowhump @shameless-whumper @latenightcupsofcoffee @thebluejayswhump  @what-huh-imconfused @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic  @pink-and-purple-flowers @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whump-em  @umniyah-s  @adventuresofacreesty @scarheart  @kyra-plays @lionhxartxd-blog @blue-flare10 @whumpywhumper @doityourselfbombs  @pastry-case @maybeawhumpblog @httyd-chocolate  @maqcyloup @yyyee-haw @to-hurt-and-comfort @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @manip-loki @dungeons-and-dragons-and-whump @ariirenn @poetofswords86 @whumpity--whump--whump @swagjudgehandsdragon @machimaquiaveli @theladyoffangorn @oracle-of-maybe @cuddlycryptid @the-potato-beeper @insanitycheshire @slam-whump @sweeterthanadonut @ffaerie-dustt @whump-in-the-night @elfo8792 @kinda-bad-poet @crackedskel @deluxewhump @this-zombie-will-eat-you @a-moment-to-write @stoic-whumpee @paradigmparadoxical @burtlederp @whump-with-wren @whimperwoods @winged-ace-whump @whump-only @sola-whumping @theoretical-toes @servenas-inner-fangirl  @hurtmebeautifully @shaegal @crystalrainwing

[halfusek]

hey so i got an ask about how the pan flag design was stolen and i initially deleted the ask because it made me super nervous but now i did some research so let’s go

[none of this is aimed at you specifically anon]

what the hell is this? “may refer to themselves as biphobic”? “sadly throughout history pansexuals have always stole things”? what the hell is this???

pretty telling this was wrote by a panphobe and it’s not a way to settle any sort of discourse

link:

https://sexuality.fandom.com/wiki/Pansexuality

super disappointing tbh

but whatever, let’s get to the flag thing because i only wanted to check the wiki if there are any SOURCES for these claims but nope lol

and i think the name of the actual place represetned by this flag is mispelt either on the sexuality wiki or on the wikipedia page for this kingdom but not sure, could also be just a translation thing

wiki page:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kingdom_of_Cochin

on twitter i found a post like this (didn’t dig enough to the original post that was screenshot here but someone talking about it)

the tweet that posted the screenshot is here, it’s basically asking the creator of the flag for an explanation:

https://twitter.com/gorilIasz/status/1295351237286727680

and now the creator’s explanation with screenshots and links

https://twitter.com/evievarney/status/1295307199728820224

and like a year ago the creator made a post on the flag’s creation and here is the part about the color picking

https://twitter.com/evievarney/status/1161259394497224704

and i don’t know how to tell you this in other ways so i’m gonna be blunt: those are primary colors, used in those flags, and by using primary colors you are BOUND to overlap with something that already has been created, even if you would have done a good research on flags 

which you don’t even need to dig deep into to find out how many countries did have similiar flags because they settled for primary colours

i grabbed this pic from a site i didnt really read but it had a good bunch of similiar flags put together:

https://www.expatspoland.com/polish-flag/

and by the way im Polish and guess what - those places having similiar flags does not offend me at all in any way

because it’s literally colored stripes on a rectangle and if you choose a few primary colours they Will overlap with something

and trying to add some kind of “theft story” to this situation is really just bizarre to me, and it’s not even the fact that yall are pointing out how the flags look super similiar/the same but the accusatory tone of it and assuming how the intent was malicious NOT TO MENTION that wiki page for pansexuality

just... calm down please, can we all stop trying to tear each other apart

sure, i will admit, some pansexuals are shit, but its not because pansexuality is shit but because those specific people are shit

bi people can love who they wanna love and no pan person is allowed to call them transphobic or tell them to identify as pan instead if they want to love transgender people

its super stupid, i agree, and im sorry for every bi person that had to experience this kind of biphobia from someone pan/a pan ally

bi and pan are just defined a bit differently and maybe they are very similiar but to some people, such as myself, those small differences in definitions matter, which is why i chose the pan label for myself

dont wanna get eaten for this, i dont really do activism stuff much, but gee golly this had my blood boiling

[notthatiwilleverwriteit]

i saw a few posts of yours answering the common questions a lot of ppl have and its the “are tianshan a toxic couple” and i love your responses and how you say “we should take a step back to see the real picture” basically. after reading 19days twice, i’ve come to understand A LOT about our 4 boys. its that they all carry emotional baggage and trauma. and they all suffer with it through out the chapters, slowly overcoming it as the story progresses. what we have to understand as readers is that we can’t have a happy ending just yet- it’s not realistic. OX has written this story in a very clear, realistic way. with that, we have moments in the beginning of tianshans relationship where mo comes off as very annoyed or mad when tian appears. but slowly, he gets used to tian being his friend and even allows tian to see his moments of vulnerability (i.e., breaking down, explaining his child hood trauma, etc) which btw is a HUGE THING? mo literally clinging onto tian like that is a HUGE moment of vulnerability..you can even say its out of character but really its just mo opening up and allowing tian to understand him. another thing a lot of ppl assume that mo “hates” tian..which i guess is shown in the beginning moments of their first encounter but he really just struggles to accept and understand his feelings for tian. which is why he reacts the way he does sometimes when he’s flustered or nervous. (1) we can see this with the whole studs incident and how mo himself eventually came to realize he wants to wear them when HE wants. this is a huge thing again because he wants to show tian basically that he’s not wearing it for the heck of it- he’ll wear it comfortably when he wants to for HIMSELF! another thing is that moments of danger really bring out mo’s TRUE feelings for tian. (1) we can see this in the chapter special where tian pushes mo out of the way and saves him in the forest when its raining. (2) when tian sends mo a pic of his arm “bleeding” and mo LITERALLY drops everything to go to him. in these moments, mo really acts like tian is the only one that matters; he disregards everything and everyone because he cares so much about this one person. in my opinion, i do believe that mo will come to realize and accept these feelings for tian. like come on...we have gotten SO much character development. his current and past feelings for tian can be seen as him struggling to understand his feelings (trying to understand if they are feelings for a friend vs. feelings for a lover). his intimate moments with tian are always showing his frustration.

the flashbacks are coming to an end and im so sure that we’ll get to see how mo and tian dealt with being away from each other, what tian was doing the entire time he was away, etc. anyways it just makes me kinda sad when people assume that mo is heartless or that tianshan is toxic and blah blah...because like DUDE, these are real things people go through. it takes SO much courage to accept your feelings for someone. we cant just expect mo and tian to sort everything out in like 1 chapter. all of this was rambling and idek if i make sense but what do you think? do you agree/disagree? also sorry if i come off as rude it was not my intention at all T^T i really your analysis and wanted to share mine about momo with you too :D

Hello, dear anon!

Oh, please, your message wasn't rude at all! I loved reading your thoughts, thank you for taking the time to type me all this!

Your ask touches on a lot of topics I’ve talked about before, so here is a list of my previous answers that I think are relevant:

Did MGS hate HT in the beginning?

About MGS and SL’s development

Do I think Tianshan is toxic?

Do I think Tianshan is toxic vol. 2

My Tianshan “timeline”

My Tianshan “timeline” continued

Will MGS’s attitude towards HT ever change?

Will MGS’s attitude towards HT ever change, vol. 2?

You might want to check some of those out if you’re interested. But I’ll most probably end up repeating some things anyway.

““are tianshan a toxic couple” and i love your responses”

Thank you! I have to admit those were probably the hardest questions I had gotten so far. As a Tianshan OTP shipper, I understand that I’m easily biased. And as someone who often ships the problematic pairings, the whole “it’s toxic” discourse can get...tiring.

Anyway, the point I was trying to make was that I feel like often when people complain some ship/character is toxic, they erase the context of those things. I understand that context doesn't excuse any type of behavior but it explains it more often than not. To me, context is about taking that step back and seeing the bigger picture/overall development.

Also, I think “toxic” is a surprisingly subjective term and people have very different levels of tolerance for it. If someone sees Tianshan as toxic, I think their take is valid. It’s perfectly fine if the ship is too much for them. But I also like to remind people that this is fiction we are talking about. In fiction, things are often exaggerated. Also, fiction is a safe place to explore different things and enjoy whatever scratches your itch. No one is getting hurt. So, if something isn’t to your taste, that’s fine! If you want to have a discussion about those differences, awesome! Just don’t go around judging people for liking something in fiction.

“a lot of ppl assume that mo “hates” tian / he really just struggles to accept and understand his feelings for tian“

I think this has mostly to do with MGS being a very tsundere character. His first answer is always “no”, “shut up”, “go away”, etc. But deep down, he does care and doesn't actually hate as much as he lets people (mis)understand. Tsundere characters can be frustrating, and I get it if they annoy some people. But it’s important to recognize them, so you won’t let their “tsun” side fool you.

To me, a lot of MGS’s anger and aggression is also about his general distrust of people. In the beginning, he was hostile towards HT because to him, HT was ultimately the same as SL (ch. 138, 150, 155):

MGS didn't understand HT’s interest in him. He didn't trust HT’s kind of people with money and influence. He had had bad experiences with SL taking advantage of him, and he wasn't about to let HT do the same. His guard was high, and the best way to protect himself was being aggressive. (This didn't apply to HT only but everyone who tried to interact with MGS.)

A lot of that early behavior makes more sense if you take a step back and look at the overall development of Tianshan and MGS. On the surface, it easily looked like MGS hated HT in the beginning when it would be more accurate to say he hated people like HT.

You suggested that MGS is struggling to accept and understand his feelings for HT, and I would agree. I’m not sure if I would go as far as saying his feelings for HT are exactly romantic just yet, but I’m sure his relationship with HT is something that MGS can’t quite figure out. He’s not only learning to trust HT but also no doubt noticing that he might - god forbid - actually care about HT. That’s a lot of “figuring out” if you consider what HT ultimately represented to MGS in the beginning and how defensive MGS was towards everyone. 

Overall, I would say that MGS is “bothered” by HT. In a good way. He can’t really understand HT or their relationship but HT “bothers” him by being persistent and poking at topics that MGS isn’t really familiar with (for example, romance). The change in him that HT is ultimately the driving force for is “bothering” him which I think is something quite human and relatable. It’s the confusion and uncertainty that keeps bugging us all before we figure something out.

“but slowly, he gets used to tian being his friend and even allows tian to see his moments of vulnerability“

One of the biggest themes in Tianshan is definitely trust. This is very much connected to your earlier point, but I wanted to take a separate look at this. I would even go as far as saying trust is at the core of everything you’re saying.

As I said, in the beginning it looked like MGS hated HT when he, in truth, didn’t just trust him. But once again if you take a step back, you can see the overall development (ch. 130, 144, 160, 188, 282, 283, 318, 346 [the last one is translated by @1154lizz 🖤]):

MGS had learned to be suspicious of people and to believe that no one was looking out for him. No one would be on his side. No one would believe he didn't do it. No one would defend him, let alone demand justice for him. I believe a lot changed in Tianshan when MGS realized HT would be in his corner and fight for him. 

After that MGS began to gradually open up about things (SL piercing his ears, his past with SL). With that development, MGS not only let HT closer but also gave HT more control over him. He allowed HT to occupy him in ways that SL had used to abuse him: the earrings and his past. Those had been ways for SL to own and control MGS, but with HT they were about trust and protection.

Lately, it seems like MGS is allowing HT to coax his dreams and pursuing them. No matter what MGS wants to do, HT will support him. He believes in MGS. That takes trust as well because dreams can be a surprisingly vulnerable topic. Especially if you’re someone like MGS who hasn’t had that kind of support and faith for various reasons.

So yes, I would say the ever-growing trust between Tianshan has changed the relationship. MGS has gone from hostile “I don’t know what you want with me but whatever it is I won’t let you” to more positively flustered tsundere-like aggression.

“another thing is that moments of danger really bring out mo’s TRUE feelings for tian“

Yes, I definitely agree with this, too. Those moments are when MGS’s “dere” side comes out so nicely (ch. 233, 234, 255, 259, 309, 329):

With all the aggression in MGS, it’s sometimes easy to forget that he’s actually a very caring person. A lot of that is just protected by thick emotional walls because his caring side has gotten him in serious trouble before. He’s learned to harden himself in that regard, but if people are persistent enough with him they will eventually see how caring he actually is.

It’s taken some time but MGS does care about HT. And he does care about JY and ZZX. They have all wiggled their way into his heart even though it probably rarely looks like that. He curses at them and tells them to fuck off, but if it really came to something serious, he would be worried and scared for them. I think the fact that HT has deemed MGS as someone safe around whom to show his more vulnerable side is proof of how MGS treats people who are looking for shelter - both literally and figuratively.

But again, I do understand if this kind of thing doesn't appeal to some people. It can be frustrating if A’s softer feelings only come out when B is in danger or hurt. Personally, I’m living for those little nuggets of worry and affection.

“i do believe that mo will come to realize and accept these feelings for tian / we’ll get to see how mo and tian dealt with being away from each other“

I’m interested in seeing if these two thoughts of yours will eventually be combined in the comic. It seems HT will be going away, so I wonder how that will affect MGS. Will the absence make him perhaps realize his budding romantic feelings towards HT?

But overall, I do agree and believe that MGS will eventually figure his feelings out and come to accept them. Despite everything, he is the kind who can make up his mind about these things and be surprisingly confident about it. Asking HT for the earrings being a good example of this.

I really liked hearing your thoughts and agreed with your takes! Thank you for sharing them with me!

[zackcollins]

if you met me first ch. 2 || mathew barzal

chapter 1 || masterlist

Author’s Note: This was originally supposed to only be one part. Then I got an anon asking if I could write a part two because they’d like to see what would happen after the ending of the first part. Ask and you shall receive! But, uh... my stupid brain decided two parts wasn’t enough so, uh... they’ll be at least three parts. Knowing me though, they’ll end up being more than three. I hope you guys are okay with that (*insert sweat smile emoji*). GIF credit to chavelier!

Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything but feel free to tell me of anything deserves a warning. I’ll add it for you!

Word Count: 2.8k+

Title: If You Met Me First by Eric Ethridge

Additional: The reader is still gender-neutral. I made sure not to change that because I like consistency when there is more than one part and the previous part starts with a certain gender for the reader. Also! I’d like to thank @matbaerzal​ . I included something about a shorthanded goal for the Islanders but I don’t know much about their penalty kill alignments. She helped me with that by telling me some of the guys that are usually on it. She gave me five names but I ultimately picked Scott Mayfield. I’m not entirely sure why, if I’m honest. His name just spoke to me the most, I guess. Hope all of that’s okay and hope you enjoy this!

You sat there for a moment, phone gripped tightly to your ear. Mathew was breathing rapidly, starting to seem somewhat frantic. You sighed and bit your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I have feelings for you too,” you said, though it came out sounding like one word because you were so nervous.

You heard Mathew’s breathing even out as he let out a soft sigh. He chuckled before the line went dead. You dropped the phone on your lap and felt tears prickle the corners of your eyes. You sat there for a moment, wondering how you could ever have been so stupid to trust his admission. You felt betrayed by the person that mattered the most to you.

Not wanting to deal with anyone other than yourself, you turned your phone off and shoved it in your desk drawer. Anybody that wanted to talk to you could wait until you were done wallowing in the self-hatred of everything that had just transpired.

Needing something to distract yourself, you decided to deep clean your apartment. Twice. You wanted to make sure your mind was occupied so no thoughts of Mathew crept in. You also wanted to make sure that you didn’t miss anything from the first time.

When you were sure everything was cleaned, you washed the two weeks worth of laundry that had been gathering in your bedroom. It took you two hours to wash it all but you managed to get it done. It took an additional twenty-five minutes to fold everything and put it away but the laundry was finally dealt with after you had procrastinated it for the last week and a half.

When you needed a break from your chores, you switched on the television. You needed something to numb your mind and body; something to switch your thoughts off. Whatever deity existed must’ve been out for vengeance because the thing displayed on the television when it came to life was a rebroadcast of the Islanders vs. Flames game from that afternoon starting from the beginning of the second period. As much as you wanted to switch it off, something inside of you told you that you had to watch it.

As the second period progressed, you noticed that Mathew was playing with more enthusiasm and grit than you were used to seeing from him. He had bodychecked multiple Flames in an attempt to steal the puck from them. It had worked a few times but it led to an interference penalty on one occasion that Mathew looked none to pleased with. Luckily for him, Scott Mayfield was able to steal the puck from TJ Brodie and score a beautiful shorthanded goal short side on Cam Talbot. When the camera cut to Mathew in the penalty box, he was knocking his stick against the door and smiling with a relieved look on his face. 

Your heartbeat sped up at that and you felt your stomach somersault. You cursed yourself for having a positive reaction to seeing him happy after what he had done to you. He wasn’t worth your time if he was going to toy with your emotions like he had, no matter how great of a friend you thought he was.

On the television, Mathew had exited the penalty box right as you had managed to get yourself under control. Josh Bailey had the puck and noticed Mathew behind the Flames defence. Josh quickly passed it to Mathew and Mathew sprung into action, skating toward Talbot. You gripped the arm of your couch, feeling every emotion you had tried to suppress hitting you all at once. 

Mathew made it to the hash marks before he was hooked from behind by Rasmus Andersson. The referee shot his arm up and blew the whistle as soon as Talbot grabbed the puck after it trickled off Mathew’s stick. You sunk into the couch and covered your face as the referee pointed to centre ice. 

You looked up as the referee was placing the puck on the faceoff dot on centre ice. You felt your entire body fill with dread as you watched Mathew skate in a circle by the Islanders bench. You didn’t know if you could handle seeing Mathew take a penalty shot. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to change the channel or turn the television off. Something was compelling you to watch this and you were too weak right now to fight against it. 

When the referee pointed to the puck and blew the whistle, Mathew quickly handled it on his forehand before skating down the ice. As he got closer to Talbot, he switched the puck to his backhand, then his forehand, then his backhand again and moved slightly to his left. Talbot froze briefly, opening his five-hole in the process. Mathew took that opportunity to hammer the puck in through Talbot’s five-hole on his backhand. Talbot tried to close his five-hole but all that succeeded in doing was pushing the puck over the line with his skates. The referee pointed to the net and blew the whistle. As Mathew went down the bench for his fist bumps, you noticed that he looked directly at the camera with a smirk on his face. You weren’t sure why but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he had directed that at you specifically. Your stomach did another somersault at the mere thought of that. 

The rest of the second period was rather uneventful. A couple penalties got drawn by both teams but no powerplay goals or shorthanded goals came of them. You were somewhat dreading the third period, unsure if you could handle any shenanigans that Mathew would inevitably get up to. You still felt compelled to watch the game and you were still too weak to fight against yourself so watch the game you would.

As the third period started you heard a knock at your apartment door. You found that odd because you hadn’t been expecting anyone. You wanted to ignore it because you weren’t in the mood for visitors but the knocking became insistent. You grumbled to yourself as you walked across the room and through the foyer to open the door. You had really regretted not looking through the peephole as soon as you laid eyes on the person on the other side.

“Mathew,” you exclaimed, taking a step backwards in surprise. 

What surprised you even more was that he looked like he had been crying. As much as you didn’t want to see him right now (even though this was your first time seeing him face-to-face), you couldn’t in good faith leave him out in the apartment hallway while he looked the way he did. Your grandmother, who had been a therapist, would come back from the grave and smack you for being inconsiderate to someone that so obviously needed your help. 

“Can I—“ 

“Yeah… yeah,” you interjected, somewhat absentmindedly. You stepped back further so Mathew could enter. “Let’s go.”

Mathew smiled weakly as he brushed by you. You blinked a few times and shook your head to make sure this was really happening. When it was clear that it was, you carefully closed the door and latched it. Even though Mathew had been an asshole earlier, something inside of you told you he posed no threat and that whatever he wanted was something that needed privacy. 

When you turned around, you bumped your shoulder into Mathew’s chest. Mathew quickly reached out because you had stumbled a little. His face shifted from the anguish you get after a good crying session to guilt. You assumed the guilt was for standing too close to you and causing what happened to happen.

“Sorry,” he said, voice strained. “I didn’t mean… I just didn’t want to go into the apartment without you. I feel like it would’ve been rude because I don’t live here.”

You blinked when he took a moment to remove his shoes and place them on the shoe rack beside him before he followed you into the living room. 

Mathew sat on the couch beside you and motioned in the direction of the shoe rack.

“Was… was I not supposed to do that,” he asked, voice a little concerned.

You quickly shook your head, holding your hands up.

“No,” you said. “Wait. I mean yes. Fuck.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed before looking at Mathew again. He looked confused but he was still looking at you intently.

“You were supposed to do that,” you said, sighing again. “I’m just not used to people doing it on their own volition.”

Mathew nodded and opened his mouth like he was going to reply but he quickly snapped it shut. His head swivelled to look at the television and that’s when you noticed that you had left the rebroadcast of the game playing. And, from what you could tell, Mathew had just scored.

You grabbed the remote but Mathew placed his hand over the top of it, blocking the power button. You tried to yank the remote backwards but something about the way Mathew was looking at you made you drop the remote onto his lap. Mathew smiled, although something about the way his eyes flicked from you to the television and then down to the remote told you the smile was a façade to hide how he was really feeling.

Not wanting to push Mathew and make him uncomfortable, you focused your attention back to the television. Just as you did that, you heard Mathew shift beside you. You briefly glanced at him but all he did was point at the television and smile while looking nervous. You raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

Just as you focused back on the television, Mathew scored his hat trick goal. You felt your heartbeat stutter and your stomach do a flip. When you looked at Mathew, he was staring intently at the television but you thought you saw a few wet lines on his cheeks. You went to say something but the announcer screaming Mathew’s name drew your attention back to the television.

When you looked, two minutes of game time had passed and Mathew had potted another goal. Your heartbeat faltered and your stomach did what felt like its millionth somersault of the day. As you watched everyone celebrate with Mathew on the television, you felt tears prickle the corners of your eyes. 

You were watching the Flames fumble through a powerplay when you felt something nudge your leg. You glanced down and saw Mathew’s hand sitting on your thigh, palm up. You took the hint and placed your hand in his. Even though he had been an asshole earlier, you had felt the need to forgive him when he decided to come all this way to see you, even if he hadn’t actually said sorry yet. Actions spoke louder than words.

Mathew squeezed your hand, which made you look at him. He smiled softly, cheeks shining from obvious tear stains. You wiped away the tear stains right as the announcers screamed Mathew’s name again. You both looked at the television and saw that he had scored his fifth goal with only thirty seconds left in the game. 

Mathew grabbed your other hand and squeezed them both. As the end horn sounded, Mathew dropped your hands and nodded towards the television. You raised an eyebrow but focused your attention where he had directed. 

As the teams skated off the ice, a reporter pulled Mathew aside. He took his helmet off and placed it on the top of his stick.

“Mat,” she started, pausing when the crowd roared with a chorus of cheers and boos. She and Mathew both chuckled. 

“You had the game of your life this afternoon. Was there anything that motivated it?”

Mathew put his glove in his mouth and nibbled on it for a moment. When he was done with that, he took the glove off so he could run his fingers through his hair. The reporter didn’t seem phased by the delay as she stood there, holding the microphone in front of Mathew.

Mathew sighed and bit his lip as he put his glove back on. He leaned against the top of his helmet and looked at the reporter.

“The person I’m in love with loves me back,” he said, smiling softly. “I needed to impress them.”

The reporter smiled as she looked at Mathew.

“They better be impressed. You scored five goals and had two assists,” she said. “Go get them, Mat. I won’t keep you any longer. Congratulations again. On your game and your relationship.”

The television screen suddenly went black after that. You turned to Mathew and saw him holding the remote, his finger on the power button. He quickly threw the remote to the side and you both jumped a little when it crashed into the glass top of the coffee table.

“Sorry,” Mathew mumbled.

You put your finger on his lips and shook your head.

“Don’t,” you said, dropping your finger. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I just have to ask one thing.”

Mathew looked at you and raised an eyebrow.

“Why did you hang up after I told you I felt the same way?”

Mathew sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I called you during intermission,” he said. “Coach caught me with my phone and told me to hang up or he’d bench me for the rest of the game.”

You felt tension you didn’t know you had been holding onto release from your body. Mathew ran his thumbs across your wrists and you relaxed a little more. You melted into the touch and shifted closer to Mathew, dropping your head against his shoulder. Mathew took that opportunity to wrap his arm around you and run one of his hands soothingly along your back. You sighed and wiggled in closer to Mathew’s touch. 

The two of you sat there in silence. You were taking in the moment of finally being cuddled against the man you loved more than anything. It felt better than any of your wildest dreams. It made you feel complete. It made you feel happy.

“I’m happy too,” Mathew said, kissing the top of your head.

You hadn’t realized you had said that out loud but you were glad that you had. Hearing Mathew affirm your feelings made you feel ten times better. It made you feel better knowing that he wanted this as much as you did.

“Why wouldn’t I want this as much as you? You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. It just took Tito telling me that every person I’ve ever dated had a carbon copy of your personality for me to notice.”

Realizing you said that out loud made your face heat up because of the response you got. You buried your head as far into Mathew’s neck as you could. Mathew chuckled and lifted your head up so you were looking him in the eyes.

“Hey,” Mathew said, tapping your nose with his finger. “It means I like your personality type. And, more importantly, I like the original the most.”

You felt your stomach do a somersault for the nth time that day as you looked at the pure expression on Mathew’s face. You smiled as you brushed a piece of Mathew’s hair out of his face. Mathew leaned into the touch, humming softly. 

Your eyes darted down to his lips and then back to his eyes. Mathew nodded and that was all it took for you to surge forward and connect your lips with his. 

As you kissed, your mind went blank. You couldn’t think of anything but the fact that you were kissing the man that you had waited what felt like forever to kiss.

When you pulled back, Mathew was panting slightly and some of his hair was stuck to his forehead. You swallowed and ran your fingers through that hair to brush it away. Mathew shivered and leaned forward a little. You leaned forward and rested your forehead against his. Mathew puffed a breath against your swollen lips, which caused you to shiver. 

You pulled back right then to yawn and stretch your arms above your head. 

“Sorry, I—“

“Fall asleep on the couch with me,” Mathew said, laying down on the couch and moving as far over as he could to make room for you.

“Don’t you have to get back to the hotel,” you asked, though you did lay down and cuddle against him. 

Mathew chuckled and shifted around a little. You patted his shoulder when you were comfortable. He kissed the top of your head and slung his arm around you.

“Nah. We’re in our bye week right now. I don’t have to get back until tomorrow when I check out and we fly to St. Lucia.”

You hummed and closed your eyes.

Your eyes shot open a minute later when your brain registered what Mathew had said.

“I get to go to St. Lucia?!”