#anyway i have to fucking sleep but I HAD to make this

[paperlignes]

WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS (2019-2024) SEASON 6, EPISODE 5: NANDOR'S ARMY

[cleolinda]

Okay, y’all, bring it in, huddle up. It’s gonna be a long week, not just for U.S. voters but for people in other countries watching this who can only sit back unable to do anything. I’m gonna give you the credit of assuming that if you can vote, you’re already on top of that. Alabama doesn’t allow early voting (of course it doesn’t), so I’m more kicking the dirt waiting for the starting pistol to go off right now. But anyway, let’s get the obvious out of the way—we’re not going back, do not go gently, hype as hell, etc.

I just want to reiterate: take care of yourself. I won’t tell you what that means for you, but I have to admit that for me it means I gotta stop doomscrolling Reddit with a bowl of Halloween candy and GO TO BED. Get your rest, get your water, get away from all this now and then, and get into the things that keep you afloat.

I’m gonna mute most of my mobile news apps (Reuters and the BBC are solid), and I will be judicious about what I post and not spam tumblr on Tuesday with every little unconfirmed “development.” If something significant happens, I’ll try to vet how much people trust that source (some networks have been known to call state results too soon).

Don’t read polls, because they’re all over the place and news outlets have a vested interest in making the race seem close so you’ll keep clicking.

Don’t listen to anybody declaring victory at 7:05 PM Tuesday night.

Don’t panic when it takes a while to count votes. It took four days last time. Yeah, in my childhood it felt like you knew who won before you went to bed, but I first voted in a national election in 2000. That was Bush vs. Gore. Yeah. They didn’t finish fucking that up until MID-DECEMBER.

Don’t be surprised if challenges are made in court. There already have been some, and it won’t stop any time soon. Have your strategic escapism ready if we have to wait.

If I, a random woman in Alabama, know all these things just from reading the news and being a college student 25 years ago, I assure you that the Biden-Harris administration knows and has been preparing for them. I’m not letting my guard down, but I think Kamala Harris has the momentum and she’s feeling good. Besides, I gave her $5 and that ought to buy her at least 30 seconds of Supreme Court lawyer time.

So: take care of yourself. Protect your peace and take time for yourself if you feel overwhelmed by the news or the internet or the people around you, because there have been a few elections where I wish I had. Find something that makes you laugh or daydream or sleep a little better at night. Tell me in the notes what you’re into right now, music or movies or games or TV or channels or, God forbid, getting some fresh air, when you set time aside for yourself.

Have been dealing with my Anxiety Disorder™ lately, because [gestures at everything]. Normally it’s a real low level kind of thing, I’m on medication, I occasionally have therapy, but I think now we’re all just kind of In It for a while and that’s just something we gotta deal with.

I would strenuously encourage everyone reading this to find the things that keep you afloat, whether it’s a video game, a TV show, standup comedy, anime, a book series, your favorite YouTube channel, one song on loop for eight entire days, whatever it is. Just find something to climb into for a few hours and protect your peace, build up your reserves, for as long as you can.

I feel like I haven’t done much in 2024 except hang on by my fingernails, and sometimes you gotta call that good.

[uniquexusposts]

This is embarrassing - M. Verstappen (3)

Summary: Y/n and Max meet up for a morning ski trip on the slopes. Part one Part two

"It's so early," Theodore yawned the following morning. He looked at his sister, who sat on the bench in the garage, ready to go out on the slopes, but also ready to go back to bed. Y/n's eyes fell shut a couple of times.

"It's so cold," Y/n mumbled.

"Ready to go?" Dad asked with his chirpy voice. "You won't regret it when you're skiing down the slopes," he said to his children.

"It doesn't mean I regret it now," Y/n replied, and a shiver rolled down her spine. She got up and grabbed her stuff. "I should've gone to bed earlier. Where's mum?"

Dad opened the backdoor for his two children. "Mum is sleeping in, she will join us the next time."

"That woman needs a raise," Theodore mentioned and stepped outside. "God, it is freezing."

"What else do you expect in the fucking winter at a ski resort?" Y/n shot to him and followed him.

"In France, is it above freezing point."

"Good for them."

"What is wrong with you?" Theodore loudly sighed and shook his head.

Dad locked the door and looked at his two grown-ups. "It's too early to listen to your complaints, so I'm kindly asking you to shut your mouth or go back to your bed to sleep to let your crankiness dissolve."

The two straightened their faces and looked away. Y/n sighed and looked behind her to see if more people had woken up. Then her eyes fell on two creatures that were walking towards her at the end of the street. Why would they do that? Why would they wake up this early? She turned around and followed her dad and brother towards the ski lift. But then she realised why that might be. "Dad."

The man stopped walking to look behind him. "Yes, darling?"

"You go, I will be there soon," she mentioned and pointed at the lift.

"Why?" Theodore asked. "Why do we always have to wait for you?"

Y/n squinted her eyes at her brother. "You can go fuck yourself, Theodore," she let her mind take her frustrations over.

"Y/n," her dad disapprovingly hissed. "Theodore, don't tease."

"Anyway, I have to wait on a few people. So if you would like to go, so you don't have to wait for me, you are free to go," she announced and tiredly smiled.

The father and son turned around and walked away to the lifts.

Y/n kept looking at the three people who were walking towards her. Her eyes scanned the street. Every curtain behind the windows was closed. No one was out except her family and the three people at the end of the street. It wasn't a great day either; it was cold and grey. She looked behind her, facing the lift and slopes; some individuals were moving around.

"Hey," Max breathed when he arrived at Y/n.

She turned around and smiled shortly. "Morning," she said. Y/n noticed his small, sleepy eyes. "You made it." Her eyes moved to the girl next to him; Victoria, his sister.

"I'm Victoria," she introduced herself. Max had told about Y/n, so now it was time to get introduced.

Y/n showed a thin-lipped smile. "Y/n." She took a deep breath. "Anyway, shall we go?"

"Sure."

"So you are the person who came up with this idea?" Victoria asked.

"I suggested it, yes," Y/n replied, wanting to add a sneer about showing up, but she figured that she shouldn't do it.

The three people were making their way to the lift in silence. There was no need to talk, confirming everyone was tired and slowly waking up. When they arrived at the lift, they sat down in the cart and moved up the mountain.

"It is so early," Victoria sighed. "I hope this is worth it."

"You could've said no, you know," Max replied.

Y/n smiled softly; it was like she and Max were thinking alike. This was what she was thinking about earlier this morning, when Victoria asked who came up with this idea. She only proposed it - yes, and complained about it to her family - but her mood changed when she sat in the lift with Max and his sister. Now she was glad she was sitting in the lift. "Once you ski down the slopes, you won't regret it."

"My eyes are having trouble with staying open," Max mentioned.

"How many hours of sleep did you get?" Victoria then asked. She looked like the only one who seemed to have no trouble with being awake this early after Christmas.

Max yawned. "Four hours or something.” He looked at Y/n.

She looked back. “Two hours." His eyebrows raised. "We watched The Santa Clause films, and then we started the new show, and we forgot the track of time.”

“Is it even responsible to ski?” Victoria curiously asked. 

“I don’t know. Probably,” Y/n smirked. 

"How did it end up?" Max looked questionable at her, continuing the conversation about the Christmas evening. 

"My parents got home. We planned to have dinner at the dining table, but we had dinner in front of the TV while watching Christmas films," she explained. And she adored it. Just a simple evening, nothing too special, but it was a great evening. "How was your evening?"

Max smiled and nodded. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. And it was fun. Simple as well, no pressure."

"And what did she think of your present?" Y/n quietly asked, referring to the evening before Christmas Eve.

He moved closer so only she could hear it. "She says she likes it, but I think she loves it. She's wearing the hoodie now."

"See, simple can be more."

"It proves. Less is more," he breathed, satisfied. "I need to forget my presents more often," Max smirked.

A smile grew on Y/n's face, and she looked in front of her. The sun was rising, and the sky showed beautiful colours. "That will be expensive," she blurted. Then she realised that money probably didn't play a role in his life. She looked at him and noticed he was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"You know, Y/n... I don't want to sound cocky, but money isn't an issue. But I like your mentality," he said.

Her cheeks heated up. "I know. I know who you are and what you do for a living. I said it without thinking about it. I still need to wake up," she mentioned and made up an excuse. Oh, that was awkward.

Max smiled and raised his eyebrows quickly.

The lift arrived at its destination, and they all got out of the cart. Y/n smoothly moved to her brother and dad while the three Monegasques followed the young adult.

"We're going to the top," dad mentioned. He looked at the woman and man behind his daughter. "Hey," he politely said.

Theodore looked up from his phone, and his eyes fell on the people his sister brought: Max and Victoria Verstappen. His eyes slightly rounded, and he made eye contact with Y/n, who showed a small smile on her lips, but her eyes showed the same excitement and confusion as his. He put his phone away and gave the people a smile.

"So if you want to go down from here, it's fine. Then we will meet down," dad continued.

The Dutch looked questionably at Y/n, who seemed to have difficulties processing the words.

"Uh..." Y/n looked at the Dutch. "We can go up?"

"We will follow you," Max said.

She nodded. "We're going up," she said to her family.

And they made their way up with the second lift. Once they were on the top, phones were pulled out of their pockets to capture the sunset and the beautiful surroundings. Y/n and Theodore were happy to be there this early. It was like their mood had completely changed. Max and Victoria figured out why Y/n and her family would get up so early for this. When they skied down, everyone got exposed to the freshness of the snow and realised that they would only feel it in the early morning. Y/n knew that this would ruin their look on skiing, since they got exposed to the quietness on the slopes and the freshness of the snow.

After their first run down the slopes, they all hoped in the chairlift again. The tiredness disappeared and made a place for enough energy and adrenaline. The sun now peaked over the mountains. Everyone took in the breathtaking views and excitedly talked about the different runs they wanted to do. Once they were at the top, Theodore and his dad separated themselves from the group to head over to the black route. Y/n stayed with the Verstappens for the red route.

"Now I feel like I can take it easy on the red route," Victoria mentioned. "Sometimes I feel like there's so much pressure from the pros."

Y/n realised something. "But hey, we can do the black route. There's no one out there now."

"And I like that idea," Max said and pointed at Y/n.

"Nah... Not for me," Victoria said, shaking his head.

Max looked at Y/n. "We will go," he widely smiled. "You're someone who wants to go down the black route," he continued and made his point.

"Sure," she smirked and popped on her glasses.

"See you down the slopes," Max said to Victoria and moved away.

Victoria made their way down the red route, and Y/n and Max down the black route. Y/n took it easy, she did take the lead, but made sure to keep an eye on Max behind her. Max hadn't found the confidence for the first few metres, which was odd because he was the Max Verstappen, but then he started to feel comfortable. At some point, halfway through the slope, they picked up some speed and felt the rush of the cold air against their faces.

When nearing the end, Y/n slowed down and let the skies control the speed. It gave her time to scan the area; the lift looked busier already. She looked in front of her, and the people she was skiing with, were already waiting. Then she bent her legs over the front of her boots and turned both her skis at the same time. She came to a halt. Y/n put the goggles on her helmet and widely smiled.

"Worth it?" Her dad asked.

She nodded, satisfied. "Absolutely."

"I already thought so."

Max smiled while listening to their word exchange.

"I'm afraid you ruined us, Y/n," Victoria then mentioned. All eyes shot to her, including a pair of scared ones from Y/n. "Because now we know how it feels like to ski in peace, fresh snow... early in the morning. And we are no morning persons."

Y/n straightened her face, she expected to hear something horrible. "Yeah, I'm ruined for that too. But now you know you have a choice," she concluded.

"This is a typical 'give and get' moment," Max said and looked around. "But that black route... It's not as scary as I thought it would be. I liked it."

"You did a very good job," Y/n complimented Max. "It's all about experimenting and finding your edge with skiing."

After a few minutes, everyone decided to get some breakfast, except Y/n and Max, who wanted to hit the slopes one more time. It was busier, but still quiet enough to enjoy the time at the slopes. As they rode up the chairlift together, Max looked at Y/n.

"Thank you for taking us up the slopes," he mentioned.

A smile curved on her lips. "Of course."

"I almost didn't want to go, but I'm glad I did," he confessed. "My alarm went off, and I almost wanted to make it up and go back to sleep."

"Same, honestly. But then my dad threw my door open and almost dragged me out of bed... But the thing is: getting up that early is horrible, but once on the slopes, you know what you're doing it for."

Max couldn't help it, but he felt drawn to her kind smile and easygoing manner. "Exactly. But out of nine of the ten times, that's always the case."

"That is true," she breathed.

"Getting up this early was so incredibly worth it." Max looked around. "I'm not exaggerating, but this was the first time I skied in quality snow and in peace."

"Do you get recognised often?"

"Neh, I mean, when not wearing my helmet and goggles. But I actually meant was to ski around without those annoying pros, or children who can't ski, or learners."

"Oh."Y/n felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "Yeah, that's also true."

As they reached the top of the mountain, Y/n and Max exchanged numbers to keep in touch with each other about the ski trips. Then they skied down the mountain, side by side. Max felt a rush of adrenaline as he raced Y/n down the slopes, enjoying the sun. Sometimes they stopped to talk or made a joke, or they would point out a new route. It felt like they had known each other for years, not just a few days. 

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313@blodwyn4u@sltwins@heart-trees @a-beaverhausen

[ceask]

My cat always scratches at doors at random times in the night. Usually around 2, 4, and 6am. That's because this little bitch doesn't have a regular sleeping pattern and takes power naps, and gets a little concerned when she wakes up at night and everyone else is just. Not there??? We're not walking around, we're not talking, we're in our rooms alone and we're sleeping??? My cat cannot comprehend it.

And you know who else takes power naps instead of sleeping at night? You know who I snatched that headcanon from? (Pretty sure it was Dark)

Dust.

Dust literally saves everyone from Killer's cats scratching at doors and waking them up in the middle of the night. His sleeping patterns coincidentally matched up with the cats. So when a cat is wandering around, it would usually just scratch into Dust's room and calm down. Bonus if Dust and Killer actually share a room, and when they go to sleep all the cats are with Killer and when they wake up they're all with Dust. (Upsets Killer to no end.)

Okay, from here cw/tw? for schizophrenia and a semi-detailed hallucination episode

With my headcanon that Dust has schizophrenia, this would be an absolute nightmare for him.

A symptom of schizophrenia is hearing voices and sounds that aren't there. His main hallucination would be Phantom, and I've read that the voices schizophrenic people hear are usually far away. Like they are literally in the walls/srs.

Now imagine Dust hallucinating Phantom, while also hearing cats scratch at his door. Do you know how badly it would fuck with him. He would hear a voice from the wall, and assume that someone is trying to crawl into his room and scratch open the walls. So he just sits on his bed and hyperventilates. Bonus if the episode would involve physical hallucinations, with hands roaming on his face, head, shoulders, neck. And then with the sound of the scratching his brain would automatically make him feel nails scraping at his arms and legs.

[spotsandsocks]

Hiii spotty 💕💕💕

🎃 + dawn/sunrise

-❤️🪐

Hi Saturn, managed to use both words here and it got a little longer at nearly 1k. A little angsty but not too bad. Hope you enjoy. Thank for inspiring me.

“Wondered where you went.”

A quick glance over his shoulder reveals that Hen has that kind of look on her face. Buck looks away quickly, he’s not ready to talk but she already knows that, she’s Hen after all.

The unpleasant scrape of metal on concrete makes him wince as Hen settles down in one of the chairs they use up here. It’s clear she intends to wait him out.

“Don’t worry, no one else is gonna join us.”

That’s not the comfort she thinks it is because it only emphasises who isn’t going to be checking on him and they both know why he can’t and that if he could he wouldn’t need checking up on in the first place. Ironic huh.

The edge of the weather beaten brick beneath his fingers is rough and catches at his skin. The texture and prickle of pain gives him something to focus on other than the reason he’s hiding up here.

“Bobby says come down when you’re ready, but that you don’t have to be ready anytime soon, he said it’s ok to take a minute, it was a rough call.”

It was.

“Eddie said you’d be up here, told me to tell you he’d be here as soon as Chim is done with him, we thought, well he thought I should keep you company until he can.

How considerate of him. Deliberately relaxing his suddenly tense jaw and dropping his shoulders Buck breathes through the surge of anger Eddie sending Hen to check up on him generates. Hen wouldn’t need to be keeping him company if the company he should have after a call hadn’t been so fucking stupid that he needed a full check up and time to convince Chim and Bobby that a trip to the hospital wasn’t required.

“I’m fine.”

He can’t look at her while he lies, not that it matters much, Hen won’t believe him anyway, hell he doesn’t believe him and she’s a lot smarter than he is.

He hears her snort of amusement and she doesn’t even try to hide the sacrasam in her voice,

“Oh I can tell. Totally fine.”

Eyes fixed firmly on what little of the horizon he can see through the LA skyline, the changing quality of light makes it clear that sunrise is just around the corner, a new day is beckoning. It’s a new day that might not have had Eddie in it.

He shuts his eyes but that’s no help because he just sees it all again. The chain of events that rushed past him and led to the accident.

“How’s he doing?”

Addressing the question to the air he doesn’t need to see her face to know what expression is on it.

“It’s not actually as bad as it looked, most of the blood wasn’t even his.”

The words spark another memory and he uses techniques he’s been taught to fight off a fierce wave of nausea. He changes the subject. It’s easier that way.

“I like it up here. It’s quiet. Sometimes I come up and watch the sunrise when I can’t sleep.”

She lets him have a moment of peace then breaks it.

“He didn’t mean to scare anyone, especially you, you know that right?”

He keeps his eyes on the approaching dawn and stays quiet.

“It’s our job. You know that too.”

It is. He does. Doesn’t make it any easier.

“You’ve done the same. Worse even.”

Also true. Also unhelpful. He knows how to spell hypocrite with only four letters without her help.

“It’s going to be hard, you both knew that, but it’ll be harder if you’re not there when it matters. I know that much.”

Her words hit him hard. What if he hadn’t been there. What if they had moved to different shifts or worse stations. What if he’d heard about it later and it hadn’t worked out as well as it had. What if he’d always have to wonder if he could have saved his husband if he’d been there.

Well he was there and he’d stayed calm even if he’d been more terrified than he’d ever been. He’d done what they promised Bobby they’d do. Their job. He’d listened to his Captain, followed his commands. He’d done exactly what Bobby had said. He’d helped get Eddie out of the mess he was in.

It becomes a little easier to breathe.

“Cap says you handled it well. Did your job. He’s proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too.”

He turns his back on the sunrise because it’s not Hen’s voice this time. His eyes fall on the grazes on his cheek, the deeper cut on his forehead that Chim has treated. He notes every one of the bruises forming on the skin that’s visible and knows there will be more under his clothes that he’ll check later. He looks tired and worried and he’s still far more beautiful than any dawn Buck has ever seen.

Hen’s vanished. It’s just him and his husband, dealing with the aftermath of their first real trauma since they got together.

“Am I forgiven?”

He doesn’t answer just crosses the rooftop to him as fast as he can and holds on, probably too tightly judging by the small sound he makes but Eddie hugs back just as tightly regardless.

“You did your job. Nothing to forgive.”

Eddie kisses his cheek softly, the tension in him vanishing. He sounds relieved.

“So did you, I’m glad you were there.”

He’s not ready to let go yet, and Eddie understands that, so they stay there a while longer, holding each other both remembering the day they shook hands and agreed they could maybe have each other's back.

Today wasn’t the first time they kept that promise and it won’t be the last, it will be hard for them both but they belong beside each other and Buck wouldn’t have it any other way. No matter the cost.

[papil0nglegs]

Scent 🕯️

Tf2 mercs scents

A/n: I was gonna say something about Medic shaving but then I got flash banged by that one picture of him with the hairy chest.

Scout

He took the term “cologne king” and ran with it.

He puts on like 10 sprays of cologne every morning guys it’s bad

Tries to cover his sleep stank with cologne every morning but it’s very much there

He does use deodorant because he’s not THAT stinky (tho spy is the one who forces him to wear it)

“Scout, did you put on your axe this morning?”

“ughhhh I don’t wanna 😒”

Uses 2 in one because he’s lazy asf. He’ll only use the good stuff if it’s from spy.

He doesn’t rlly care for face care, he uses the same bar of soap he uses to wash his ass and it works fine surprisingly

His rooms smells kinda musky but it’s subtle,it mostly comes from his mattress that he’s been using since childhood (which he barely fits on)

Heavy

Have you’ve ever been inside the car of a guy who works out frequently? Yeah

He smells musky asf, he does sweat a lot so it makes sense!

He has a subtle Cinnamon smell to him, no one knows if it’s from something he uses or if it’s natural

If you ever give him a hug god rest your soul cuz all your gonna be huffing in that day is his scent.

Def uses Dr squatch deodorant cuz he’s classy like that. Wont use cologne unless it’s a gift from someone

Spy

You’ll never catch this man being stinky, EVER.

He uses the good shit, Le Male Elixir, showers every night, and every now and then has a Smokey scent to him.

Scout begs and begs for his cologne but he’s a gatekeeping king so he won’t budge.

“SPY PLEASE JUST GIMME THE NAME”

“Absolutely not.”

“CMON-SPY WHAT ARE THE TOP NOTES? WHERE DO YOU NORMALLY SHOP??”

His shampoo has no scent + he doesn’t really care for buying the expensive stuff cuz his hair is always covered anyways.

His skincare is pretty good, uses face wash serum and moisturizer. No anti-aging stuff tho, he personally thinks aging is a privilege.

Pyro

If you can smell these two photos, you’re smelling pyro

Medic

He just smells like a hospital, but when finishing a mission he smells like straight blood.

His hospital smell mostly comes from the latex gloves he has to wear, the blood smell is from surgery’s or brutally killing enemies. (Obv)

Definitely doesn’t mind getting blood on him, so if you complain about the smell to him he’ll shrug it off.

Cologne wise he’d use something minty, he’d only ever use it when going somewhere fancy. Other than that he sees no use for cologne.

He’s quite high maintenance, so he never stinks nor does he necessarily smell good. He just smells like.. medic.

Demoman

You’ve ever took a whiff of milk to check if it’s expired? Yeah.

Sorry but he does not gaf, there’s a puke stain on his shirt from like a week ago + he uses pretty cheap cologne.

Def uses Irish spring cuz I said so, it fits him.

Would have a sleep stink but getting a sleep stink would come from a bed, lord knows he’ll make it to his bed before passing out drunk.

He doesn’t shave, he uses child safe scissors to cut his beard 😭 someone help him.

Engineer

ITS BAD.

but it’s also like, hot?

He had that garage workshop scent, he’s also sweaty cuz of course he is. For god sakes he’s in his 50s and doing garage work he shouldn’t be doing that he should be sitting down and having a fucking glass of water.

No cologne for him, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, that being all the sweat he collects from making shit he probably shouldn’t be making !!

Showers at night cuz that’s when he gets all the sweat off, he takes those piping hot showers that would burn off a normal persons skin off.

Sniper

He hangs around piss jars all day, I’ll let you do the rest.

No sleep, no cologne, just him. He just smells like rain and spoiled milk.

His camper van smell interesting to say the least, it’s not necessarily clean so it just smells like straight coffee, not the good kind.

He’s not that musty! He is quite hygienic.. in a way

He had a skincare routine, and spends half and hour in the shower cuz he ends up dozing off after a while <//3

He does NOT play about that skincare routine btw, if he sees a pimple he’s tracking down what he used to cause it.

Once he does he’ll use it as target practice lol

Soldier

This guy smells like 1000 things at once.

If you took a whiff of him he’d smell like straight dirt at first, but then it somehow transfers to a wet dog kind of smell, with a hint of oil.

*need a cologne of that

If you offer him deodorant/cologne he’ll deny it. He says that the way he smells is how god intended

His helmet smells FOULL, if you take the tiniest sniff you’re gonna pass out.

[bbina]

eggs

it smells like burning eggs

you can't tell if you're half conscious or half awake

your dream has been quite odd to say the least. you were dreaming about how you were hugging someone in your sleep that it felt a little too real to be a dream..

hold on, how the fuck did you make it home last night?

your eyes flutter open at the sound of sizzles coming from your kitchenette

is someone at your apartment right now?

immediately, you sat up from the bed. wrong move if you thought so yourself cause now your head felt like it's being pounded down relentlessly

hissing, you cradled your head. how much did you even drink last night and how did you make it home in one piece?

"oh you're awake"

a voice speaks. you look up and there he was, the owner of the voice that you know all to well now.

it was wonbin

who was messily wearing your bright pink apron, holding a frying pan with a lopsided smile plastered on his face

so the smell of burning eggs wasn’t a dream

wait a second.. if wonbin was here and those damn eggs weren't a dream then does that mean the person you were hugging in your dream was wonbin?

“i know you have a lot of questions judging by the look on your face right now but before that” wonbin pauses, putting down the frying pan back to the induction stove and picking up a glass of water and some painkillers from the counter before handing them to you, "drink these first"

you let out another hiss when you felt the second wave of your headache. damn you hangovers. you swallow the medicine and wiped your mouth with the sleeve of the jacket you were wearing before you realized that you didn't own a fuzzy jacket

was this wonbin's jacket too?

"i didn't do anything stupid last night, did i?" you ask, feeling the embarrassment slowly creep up in your veins

wonbin chuckles at your question, turning off your induction stove before plating what seems to be your breakfast

"unless you consider calling me to pick you up last night as something stupid then no. you didn't do anything stupid" wonbin places down the plate that had eggs and kimchi fried rice on the table in front of you

you can feel your face heat up. you've definitely done it now. why did you even call him in the first place? you will never know

"it's fine by the way. in case you're thinking about how it must've been a hassle or some shit like that. i don't mind." wonbin adds, as if he was reading your mind, "if anything i'm glad you called me instead of some random person to pick you up"

"i'm so-"

"shh. no need for that" wonbin shushes you, picking up your spoon, scooping a spoonful of the food that he graciously made just for you before holding it in front of you, "say ah" he coos playfully

you scrunch your face, swatting his hand away before you pick up the spoon and fed yourself. no way in hell you were about to let him do this shit for you too

"eat up" wonbin says, watching you eat in front of him. you raise an eyebrow at him before munching away the food he made

"not bad" you murmured, savoring the taste. you're not too sure if you have the heart to tell him that the egg was a little too salty for your liking. "the kimchi fried rice is good" you complimented

"thank you" wonbin smiles, he leans on the table, resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he watches you intently

"eggs are salty as fuck though" you blurt out, glancing at him for his reaction

wonbin scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully

"it's the thought that counts anyway" he retorts

true, you thought to yourself. the effort he put into this– taking care of you just speaks louder than words and you know that damn well. there's a strange feel in the air right now and you're not sure if you like it

"you know, you were pretty funny last night" wonbin starts, chuckling at the memory

you groan, dropping your utensils on the table as you cover your face with your hands

"so i did do something stupid" you complained

"not necessarily. you just said some things.." wonbin trails off, teasing you, "something along the lines of how happy you are these days" he grins

you can feel your face heat up again. you mentally curse yourself for letting your guard down who even knows what you yapped about last night when you were under the influence. you could've said anything!

"i hope i didn't say anything weird.." you mumbled, hiding your face away from wonbin who bursts out laughing.

fuck, you definitely did say something weird for him to react like that

"you asked me to–"

"i don't want to hear it" you cut him off, placing your hands on your ears to prevent yourself from hearing about the shit you probably said last night

wonbin laughs again at your reaction. he figured that you won't be able to take it just yet since it was the morning after anyway. guess he'll just hold this against you another day

while wonbin was busy laughing, you were trying to rack every memory you can remember in your head for anything that led up to whatever situation you're in with wonbin. does karina and giselle know that wonbin brought you home? were they the ones who called him? why can't you remember anything?

"all i'm gonna say right now is that i feel the same way" wonbin breathes out, wiping a stray tear from his face after laughing his ass out

what the fuck did he mean by that

"anyway, you done with that? i'm gonna wash the dishes so you don't have to later" wonbin asks, getting up from the chair in front of you. you nod your head yes as you push your now empty plate onto the table.

your fingers accidentally brush against his sending sparks all over your body. even if it was just for a brief second, you couldn’t help but think about it over and over again

wonbin smiles, taking the said plate and walks towards your sink and starts washing the dishes for you

you sit in silence just watching his back. the way this feels all too domestic feels so weird but at the same time, it feels so right. like you two are supposed to be doing shit like this

no, what the fuck? why are you suddenly thinking of weird things? wonbin is just a friend. why are you thinking about him in such domestic way

friends don't do this

they don't.

do they?

you shake these intrusive thoughts away. this has got to be the worst hangover you ever had in your life. to the point it got you thinking of weird things all of a sudden. but no matter how hard you try to divert your attention elsewhere, it just goes back to him unconsciously

what the fuck is going on

alone together ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 . . . intrusive thoughts

── taking comfort in the thought that you are together in aloneness through late night talks, heartfelt confessions, and a genuine connection. with your shared experience of recent heartbreaks, you wonder if getting together would be all worth it. in which you find solace in each other's company, that you are alone together.

⋆｡˚ prev | next ˚｡

꩜ notes .ᐟ i kept procrastinating bc of someone's enlistment and i havent been the same since.. are we ready for alone together 2.0? p.s the last two texts are like prev texts. they didn’t happen “today”

꩜ taglist .ᐟ @onlywonb @rosesfortaro @starwonb1n @wonychu @totheseok @dolloie @hyunjinsnumberonefun @binluvsu @onlyhyunjin @annswwa @wonbinsvlle @hakkkuu @ilovejungwonandhaechan @artstaeh @lecheugo @odxrilove @bunni @saranghoeforanton @nujeskz @nakam00t @kyusqult @nctsshoes2 @revehosh @s9nwoo @daegale @palchokitty @dutifullyannoyingfox @oshakyao @koryutte @b-riize @meowbini @peterm4rker @winuvs @i03jae @rsatoru @enhacolor @dalliesque @sweetiejaeyun @dearestjake @cupidslovearrows @sasfransisco @kkumistars @sngj08 @taroddori @nshmurarki @ennycutie @sa3ha @koeuh @astro-doll-the-star @amouriu

[bangpop91]

Prompt.

I just want buck to come from a rough shift and cuddle with overdressed tommy. After being intimate he asks Tommy why he was dressed to nines, then he remembered that they had a reservation but he forgot . Tommy just consoles him that it was okay and it is part of the job.

It's had been a hellacious twenty-four hours. All he wants is to collapse into bed, preferably with Tommy, and sleep for the next year.

Tommy looks damn good, he's in the living room dressed way to nice for a night in. But that doesn't stop Tommy from recognizing the harsh lines of exhaustion wheing down Buck's body. he doesn't know if it's the way Tommy takes his work duffle tucking it into the closet right next to Tommy's or the way Tommy folds him into his arms.

"Evan." Tommy says his name, and it's like a cold glass water on the hottest day of the year. He clings to the back of Tommy's nicest suit jacket as he buries his face into Tommy’s neck. Tommy smells like something woody and sweet. It doesn't matter he lets himself be grounded by the smell of Tommy's cologne.

They are four episodes deep into Kitchen Nightmares, curled up on the couch under a weighted blanket. Tommy's polished boots have been toed off and placed next to the side of the couch, his suit jacket has been discarded and the sleeves of his nice button up have been rolled up.

Buck is currently doing his best to get Tommy out of that very nice dress shirt, unbuttoning it as he trails kisses down Tommy's chest, nuzzling the thick hair there. Tommy's head is tipped backwards as he moans over Gordon Ramsey cussing out an incompetent chef when Buck licks over Tommy's nipple.

Oh fuck!

Buck sits up suddenly. He blushing and stammering as Tommy looks at him confused with kiss swollen lips.

"We had a date, the reservation as that nice restaurant, I'm so sorry Tommy. I can't believe I forgot. I will make it up to you, I promise." Tommy kisses him before he can continue on with his shame ramble.

"Darlin, you just had the shift from hell. And there is no way you would have been able to enjoy the restaurant with how tired you looked. I don't care that the plan changed, and you absolutely do not have to make tonight up to me." Tommy is holding his face, forcing Buck to meet his eyes so he can see not just how serious his boyfriend is, but also how much Tommy loves him, that he's just as happy here on their couch as he is on a fancy date. Tommy clears his throat, his smile getting small and nervous.

"There is something I wanted to do tonight at the restaurant. But we aren't really fancy dinner people." Buck laughs, batting his eyelashes at Tommy.

"You don't have to take me out on a fancy date for that. I'm a sure thing, Babe." Tommy is the one laughing now, as he slips one of his big hands, that Buck is a little obsessed with, into the pocket of his slacks.

"Evan!" Tommy laughs with fond exasperation. "Thats not what I was talking about." Tommy is still laughing as he pulls a small black leather box out of his pocket. Insde the box is a thin gold band. "I wanted to if you will marry-"

"Yes." He blurts out making Tommy laugh.

"Let me finish!" Tommy exclaims happily, scooting closer to Evan on the large sectional sofa. "Evan Buckley, will you -let me ask you- Will you marry me?" Theybare both laughing too hard for a big speech, and Buck is too impatient for one anyway.

"Yes." The laughter stops as Tommybslids to ring onto Buck's finger, and soft, tender kisses are exchanged.

I am so sorry it took me so long to answer your prompt! My day at work yesterday was crazy so I hope this was worth the wait, tha k you for sending me your prompt.

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovie a lil request if u pls! I would love to see Sirius (but could also be down with one of the other boys if ur not feeling him) with a gf who has a migraine and just him doting on her

alternatively could also do it's like early in the relationship and she tries to hide it from him?

Thanks for requesting!

cw: modern au, migraine

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 997 words

You decide to text Sirius rather than braving the lights and sounds of the living room. You keep your phone brightness on low, clicking your screen off as soon as it’s sent. 

Do you have any painkillers I could use?

You feel guilty for commandeering Sirius’ bedroom like this. You’re supposed to be cooking dinner together, but when you came home with the groceries you’d asked meekly if he’d mind if you napped for a while. He offered to make it himself so it’ll be ready when you get up. You sort of dread when that will be. You know you’d feel better back at your own place, but you don’t trust yourself to drive like this, with pain taking all your concentration and spots and lines flashing across your vision, so instead you’re spoiling the evening you and Sirius had planned together. Now you’re asking him to wait on you, too. 

Sirius doesn’t respond to your text, but you hear him moving. The soft thump of footsteps coming down the hall and the quiet sshk of a drawer coming open. 

“Just a nap, huh?” he murmurs as he comes into the bedroom. He sits by your knees on the bed, shaking a couple of pills into his hand. “Does something hurt, lovely?”

“Yeah,” you manage a hoarse whisper as he passes you the pills and the glass of water he’s brought you. “Sorry. My head.” 

“I thought something might be wrong,” he admits, keeping his voice low. “You got awfully quiet earlier. Why didn’t you say?”

You set the glass on his nightstand after downing the pills. Cover your eyes with the hand cool with condensation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to ruin our night.” 

Sirius tuts softly. “Don’t worry about that.” His hand finds your forehead, first feeling for a fever and then brushing a few pieces of hair back from your eyes, but he stops when your face tightens. “It’s quite bad?” 

You make a low humming sound. “It’s a migraine. I get them, sometimes.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sirius takes his hand away from you, though by the pain in his voice it costs him to do it. “I’m sorry. What can I do?”

“I just need to lie with it for a bit. Hopefully it’ll calm down. I have things to help at home, but I don’t think I can make it there right now.” 

“What sort of things?” 

You tell him, admittedly somewhat short in your speech. Sirius doesn’t seem to mind. He leaves you to rest afterwards, and you hardly hear him again until nearly an hour later. You think dinner has to have long since been ready, but when Sirius comes back into his bedroom it’s not with food. 

You watch through slitted eyes as he creeps into the corner, plugging in a machine that starts billowing steam up into the room. He fiddles with it for a moment, and soon you’re aware of a familiar scent upon the air, floral and relaxing. 

“Did you get that from my place?” 

Sirius jumps, pressing a hand to his chest as he turns around. “Fuck, babe, I thought you were sleeping. No, I didn’t want to ask you to give me your key.” 

You look at the essential oil diffuser. “Huh. Looks just like mine.” 

“Well, good. Hopefully it’ll work just as well, then.” Sirius stands, typing something into his phone. “Do you think those binaural beats things will help right now, or will they keep you from falling asleep?” 

“M’not falling asleep anyway,” you mumble half bitterly, but your boyfriend only nods. He connects his phone to a small speaker and sets it by the bed. “Tell me you didn’t go buy a diffuser?”

Sirius looks at you, raising an eyebrow as a low, soothing thrum starts to emanate from the speaker on the nightstand. “Not sure what you want me to say then. Would you have rather I broke into your place to get one?”

“Sirius.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “You didn’t have to. That’s so sweet.” 

“Oh.” He brightens. “Good then. There’s a weighted mask in the freezer, too, by the way. Thought I’d give it a minute to chill first.” 

You’re starting to feel slightly teary, which isn’t really what you want during a migraine. “That’s really kind of you.” 

“Don’t mention it. Couldn’t have the world's loveliest girl suffering here in my own home, could I?” He smiles softly, looking like he’s going to reach for your face again before he stops himself. 

“You can touch me,” you say quietly. 

Sirius’ brows twitch together. “Yeah? Are you sure?” 

“Mhm. I feel a bit better than before.” 

“Could I kiss you as well?” 

You can’t stop your lips from curving, just a little. “Yeah.” 

Sirius smiles, too, pressing his lips gently to yours. He doesn’t stop there. “Better than before doesn’t seem quite well enough,” he murmurs as his affections grace your cheek, your closed eyelid, the space between your brows, “but we’ll get you there soon, I think. Remus sometimes has migraines, too. I called him and he said a massage might help, if it suits you. Just while your mask is getting cold.” 

“Yeah?” you ask on a breath. “I’ve never tried that.” 

“Do you wanna?”

You nod, and he gets you to roll onto your front, thumbs finding the tight muscles of your neck. It’s not a skillful massage, but Sirius is a quick learner, and soon you find the tension from your face to your shoulders relaxing from his ministrations. The air smells of lavender, the room pulses with a low, resounding hum, and Sirius’ touch bleeds affection into your skin. 

“Thank you for doing this,” you mumble, words slurred with relaxation. 

“Don’t know what you’re thanking me for,” he hums back. “I told you, I have the world’s loveliest girl right here in my own home. Great power comes with great responsibility and all that, right?”

You’re too enamored to even scoff.

[pinkaditty]

Who's Passing NNN? Tokyo Debunker

sigh

a/n: this is extremely low effort but in my defense im pretty sure i was drugged on halloween. *ahem* originally this was SUPPOSED to be low effort but clearly i got way too into it. anyways. i’ve been working a lot lately which is why i don’t have many works out rn! i work weekdays from 8 in the MORNING so it’s a lot going on but i use what little free time i have yk? ntm i have MULTIPLE projects im also working on 4 a different site so it’s a lot. i don’t think anyone’s gonna read this but im working on being a vtuber so its lots of prep lmfao! and with that, my weekends are mostly spent sleeping or with friends, but i really enjoy my work. ill be going back 2 school eventually so i need 2 figure out how the hell im gonna make that work, but i will. amen. pray 4 me y’all. oh also reqs r still being worked on i promise. just gotta get this fucking schedule under wraps.  anyways. this came 2 me on a random sunday (betraying the lord as usual) and i decided. lets write porn. i wanna do something silly bc my friends have been panicking abt climate change and its rubbing off on me. amen! quick disclaimer that i write these under the assumption the tokyo debunker boys are at least 18 years old. they appear to be present at a university considering there are professors and a chancellor. not to mention the boys drink, smoke, gamble, and refer to themselves as adults.

summary: who out of the tokyo debunker boys will pass nnn? who will fail? cliche i know but let me have this

cw: jerking off i guess. mc mentioned but no physical appearance described. MINORS DNI!!!!!!! Frostheim || Vagastrom || Jabberwock || Sinostra || Hotarubi || Obscuary || Mortkranken (before you ask vagastrom and jabberwock r already written jus not posted yet)

MINORS DNI AS PER USUAL TY FOR RESPECTING MY BOUNDARY!

Frostheim:

Jin Kamurai: Pass

Pretty touch and go with this guy. He’s never heard of it before, so when it’s a sudden trend around campus, he’s not visibly piqued, but he is… interested. Outwardly, he’d think it’s absolutely fucking ridiculous. Inwardly? He’d want to do it to prove something to himself. Of course, on the rare occasion he has an odd dream… well, he prioritizes his own pleasure over some pathetic game. 

He finally wakes up from a rather interesting he just had after lounging around and avoiding his work. You’re supposed to be coming soon to drop off some documents. Maybe that’s why you were in his dream. Hmph… What, he dreams of his… servants, now? Rolling over proves to be a challenge when his half-hard cock jumps at the slightest shift of his sheets. Now this? Well, he won’t hesitate to take care of it. A simple pillow will do the trick. In mere moments he’s humping into a large pillow, burying his face in one end and thrusting his hardening clothed cock in the other end. The friction more than satisfies his needs. He’s so focused on it that his vision swims, most of his body going slack except for his arms squeezing the pillow taut to his chest and his hips insistently searching deeper, warmer, and wishing for wetter, tighter. When it’s all over, and his focused expression melts into a slack-jawed, bleary-eyed one, he knows he’d much rather stay here, in his sheets. His warm, sticky release, however, will eventually turn uncomfortably cold, and he knew you were on your way. 

Tohma Ishibashi: Pass

He’s participating because he knows Jin is participating. That’s really all there is to it. He’s not interested in any clout or anything, just thinks it’s funny. He doesn’t do this too frequently, but often enough to keep his rocks off, you know? Sometimes, though, he doesn’t really get any free time for months cleaning up after Jin, so… It’s those times that are more interesting. 

He tries rather hard to go slow for the sake of savoring it, but fails miserably - it’s been months, after all. His uniform is much too hot to be doing this in, but god forbid he waits another minute. A sweaty collar and cum-stained slacks could be washed, anyway. Despite starting with slow strokes, before he knows it, his hand is wrapped around his dick, rubbing furiously like there’s no tomorrow. His other hand claws into the bedsheets beneath him, pulling them every which way. His face contorts into a number of different expressions: his jaw clenched tight and his eyes narrowed harshly, or his jaw slack with his tongue lolling out and his eyes rolling to the back of his skull, or even his lips pressed tight together to stifle moans with his eyes screwed shut just as well. Regardless, he’s enjoying himself and desperately trying to keep a hold of himself. Finally, when the wave of pleasure comes, he presses his face into his pillow, knowing it’s hopeless to attempt to keep quiet. He spills more than he intends every single time, and when he collapses on himself, feels his dampened body melt into his equally dampened sheets. His hair is disheveled, his uniform is sloppy, and his monocle slips off his face. Fuck. He’d have some washing to do. 

Lucas Errant: Pass

Do you think this guy masturbates? Like genuinely? I don’t doubt it but I think if he was challenged to go a month without it he’d manage fine. I think, at best, he does it when he’s so fucking exhausted from studying that he can’t focus. 

Like, he’s studying one night. An itch makes itself known, but it’s easily suppressed. He smoothly focuses on his work. The itch rises again. He ignores it again. His leg begins to twitch. He ignores it even more. His leg starts bouncing without him realizing it. He presses a hand down on his knee, purposely avoiding touching his thighs, and attempts once again to focus on his work. The itch spreads, reaching from his groin to his legs, slowly crawling up his back. He still stifles it and forces his eyes to absorb the words on the paper of the book in front of him. The itch reaches his neck, creeping up his spine to his face. Suddenly, he’s flushed, and he realizes that, despite his best efforts, here he sits: half-hard, not absorbing the information in the book, his breathing heavy and his vision swimming. Damn! He allows himself the slightest freedom, knowing that will lead him to the gates of release whether he wants that or not. When he’s covered in his own sticky release a few minutes later, clarity hits him at last. He bites his lip and suppresses a groan as he stuffs himself back into his pants, shaking his head to rid himself of the cloudy orgasmic feeling. Finally, back to work. 

That being said, November is a cinch… unless this happens. 

Kaito Fuji: Fail

I don’t need to explain myself I think lol! Horniest virgin on the face of the earth. Yes, he fails, to thoughts of you, at that! I’m even willing to bet the one time he tries, he fails accidentally via wet dream. Sucker! It’s surprising, though… When he puts his mind to it, he really can keep his hands off himself… for less than a month. 

It’s late at night and he’s not studying, rather rolling around in his bed, back and forth, trying to resist the insistence of his cock, pressing into the mattress at full mast. He huffs face first into his pillow, feeling his cock strain against his underwear. He could stand this for a little longer. Just a little longer… November just started, sure, but if he beat his record of one week, that’d be accomplishment enough for him. He has to resist the urge to whine as he rolls over again, his cock pressing and pressing and pressing against all things within reach. He rips the covers off of him, frustrated, feeling warm from the heat of his arousal anyway. He could get through this, right? His fingers grip his shirt collar, bunching it into his fist. His other hand gripped his phone, as though using it to ground himself. He shifted the screen to his face. Maybe he’d be able to find something to take his mind off of things. He opens WickChat and scrolls, searching for a distraction. However, the gods must be against him, because all he can do is open his chat with you, and pretend you’d sent him nudes. He tosses his phone back onto his bed, clenching his hand into another fist before it could drift any further towards his groin. He bites furiously on his fingernails, burying his face into his pillows. His cock continued to beg for attention. 

a/n: well, i hope u enjoyed! im so tired and i have work in 6 hours. goodnight lmfao!

note that i appreciate likes, comments, and reblogs!! im not open for reqs atm, but please feel free to just hop in 2 give little random thirsts or something, i don't mind!

[sp00kymulderr]

it might be nice

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings/Tags/Notes: 18+. FEELINGS. Angst. love. just...feelings. Mention of f receiving oral, reader is a not a us-citizen (visa stuff), commitment and intimacy issues all round, did I mentioned feelings? This just kinda started writing itself, i appreciate there isn't enough Dieter in it but it is what it is. Unedited, unbeta'd.

Words: 1.1k

Summary: It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now.

"We could get married"

You look up from your book, drawn back from your far away to the sound of his voice. Dieter is looking at you expectantly.

Your eyes widen as you process the four words that just left his mouth.

"Dee, we…why would we…" You trail off, drawing your legs up and out of his lap, his thumb presses down on the arch of your foot once more before he lets it go.

The conversation had moved on hours ago. Over takeout you'd mentioned trepidation over being able to stay in the country, struggling with your visa and having no sponsorship since you couldn't seem to get a fucking job right now.

Dieter had listened, sympathised, and then eaten you out for dessert just to make you feel better about your situation.

It helped. He'd been pretty mediocre but extremely enthusiastic when you'd met, but now you'd taught him some tricks he knew just how to turn your mind off for a moment.

The conversation was finished the moment he put his mouth on you, or so you thought. He could help you pay for an extension but he wasn't influential or wealthy enough to sway the embassy into letting you stay longer.

"I'd bribe the fuck out of them if I could, you know that"

You did know that. You knew he'd do anything for you. He'd been saying it since the day he met you, once famous (more like infamous) movie star now a rehabilitated recluse with no one willing to be by his side.

He'd met you in a Dennys, of all places. 3am waffles served to his lonely little corner booth because he found it hard to sleep these days, and he got hungry at random times. You took the late shifts because they paid the best, and you could be available in the day for calls from your agent that never came.

It hadn't been sexual at first. It hadn't been anything but a displaced, alone man and an exhausted, untethered waitress sitting in a booth and sharing free fries because chef made too many and they'd only go to waste. It had been whispered giggles, and sharing ridiculous Hollywood horror stories, and 'same time tomorrow' over and over again.

No one in LA had made you laugh. Not until you met him.

Dieter hadn't heard genuine laughter in years. Now he got to hear it every night.

Back in the now, you shake your head. He's being silly. He's trying to make you laugh again.

"Don't be stupid" You playfully shove his shoulder with your foot, but his face falls into a frown, and you feel a little crack in your heart at the sight. You watch as he stands, rubbing fingers across his forearm and muttering a little 'Stupid, yeah'. The tremor you feel inside you is nameless, and you will it to remain that way.

In the last six months of your knowing each other, there have been times when you've felt this same feeling. An ache at the thought that he could be anything other than happy. You'd long since left Dennys for the upward trajectory of the Cheesecake Factory but still when the late shift rolls around you feel a tug at your lips and a name on them, even when you'd seen him only hours before.

You're not an item, that's the thing. You're not a couple. Neither of you have ever said the words outright, no 'I want to be with you', 'I want to be yours'. Not to each other, at least.

It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now. It's enough, it's enough, it's enough. Enough that he will sit up all night long and read lines with you again and again and again. Enough that he tells you not to come over on his bad days but you do anyway, and hold him while he cries.

It's enough to be just this. Because more would only make it hurt more when he relapses, when you have to leave.

When you have to leave…

You close your book, set it down on the table that's strewn with pages for your latest audition. Last night he'd coached you through every single line, and then told you with passion just how perfect you were. You can hear him in the kitchen, and you know he's making himself a decaf latte with way too much caramel syrup and a dash of the kitkat sprinkles because that's what he always makes when he might be starting to crave something else.

That's how you know he wasn't making a joke. That's how you know your hurt his feelings. That and every look he's ever given you, every smile that lights up his eyes that's only been for you. That and the way his hands never stray far from you, always grounding himself with the touch of your skin to his.

"Dee…" You pad up to him slowly, watch as he tenses at your presence. Another prickle in your chest, you can't let him think you don't feel...what it is that you feel.

"Would it be so bad?" He asks without turning, the tinge of dejection in his tone making you reach out. "I'd treat you good, you know. We wouldn't even have to live together or anything…it can just be a way for you to stay. That's all. I didn't think it would be so bad for you"

God, you've had him right in your grasp this whole time. The two of you dancing around your feelings all because of fears you didn't even fully realise you had til now.

"I'd- I wouldn't even tell anyone you were my wife, if you didn't want me to. I wouldn't expect anything from it. I just…fuck,"

You turn him around with a pull to his arm, shake your head and bite back something hopeful and beautiful that inches up your throat,

"I don't want you to go"

Your arms are around his middle, a stifled sob as you bury your face against the soft, worn fabric of his favourite t-shirt - your favourite by extension because everything he loves you love too. He smells like him.

You breathe him in.

He smells like home.

You look up at him and smile. Not the pretty smile you give to casting agents - the one that makes you look perfect - but the big, happy, loving one he saw the very first night you two met in that Dennys at three in the morning on a random Tuesday. The one he gives you back is the same; he's smiled a thousand times on camera, in films and press appearances and award shows. No one else but you has ever seen this smile.

You take a deep breath. The crack in your heart starts in fusing back together.

"We could get married"

[cherryblossombankai]

Word Count: 1.1k Warnings: angst, seriously it's just angst, alcohol, mentions of anxiety and trauma, sort of implied toxic relationship, breakup, sad, depression, jealousy A/N: I'm so sorry for this :) Tag List: @pixelcafe-network, @actuallysaiyan, @helloiamadrawer, @satorustar, @sweet-chocolate-sweet

You knew deep down that breaking up had been for the best, or at least you’d believed Aizawa when he said it was for the best. Aizawa was still trying to overcome his trauma, and you're no walk in the park to live with either. Stubborn and moody on the best of days, paralyzed with anxiety on the worst of days. You knew it took him some patience at times to navigate life with you, but he wasn’t a walk in the park either. You thought you were each other’s person until he asked for space. You gave it in hopes he would eventually realize that he needs you.

It had helped you along the healing process when you believed he was as miserable as you. You took comfort in the image of him curled up in bed, mourning the scent of your perfume fading from the pillow. At the very least, it made you feel less pathetic for still sleeping in his shirt every night and refusing to wash it because he'd no longer be lingering in the stitches. 

You were fine, truly. Most days you only cried a couple of times, and you hardly ever typed up a text you'd never send anymore. At least not when you're sober. The things you’d never sent while knee-deep in a bottle of wine, well that’s a different story. It ranged from “I miss you so bad” to “Why don’t you love me anymore?” but you never sent them, and that’s what matters. 

 "I'm on the path to healing. thank you very much,” you'd bragged to your friends over dinner. You meant it! Things were really starting to fall into place. 

Until it wasn’t anymore. 

All it took was one event to have your healing facade crashing down faster than you built it up. He didn't even like selfies, that's what he told you over and over. He would scoff and cover his face every time you tried to lean in to catch a snap of the two OF you together. More than once he went on a half-hearted rant about ‘living in the moment’ instead of stopping to photograph everything. You only have a handful of photos to prove that you didn't hallucinate a five-year relationship. 

Yet there he is on your timeline, snuggled up to a pretty girl who called him ‘baby' in the caption. His arm is wrapped around her. He's leaning in...He's smiling. 

Fuck, you love his smile. It was such a rare sight when he belonged to you. You wonder what this girl has that you didn’t.

Later that night, you and your roommate split a bottle of wine. 

"I hope he thinks of me when he fucks her," you ranted to your roommate. 

You were pacing the living room like a caged tiger. A caged, drunk tiger anyway. You were angry. How could he? What right does he have to be happy when you still whisper his name when you make yourself cum?

"I'm going to call him!" 

Your roommate thankfully finds your phone before you do. She swipes it OFF the coffee table while you're digging around in your pockets.

"Nope, that is a horrible idea," she says.

"Why? Don't I deserve answers? Closure?" you sit beside her on the couch. Your puppy eyes were almost enough for her to change her mind, but she didn't. 

"Of course you do, but not like this."

After your ranting and raving becomes sleepy, your roommate — No...your hero — tucks you into bed. She covers you up with a soft blanket and pushes your hair off your face. 

"Do you think he misses me?" you whine. "I want him to miss me.”  

"He'd be stupid not to miss you,” she says, too kind to break your delusions for now, “Get some sleep."

~

It felt like your heart was ripped out. Seeing a stupid selfie was one thing. Being face-to-face with the happy couple in the produce section of your favorite grocery store is another rotten thing entirely. Aizawa doesn't even live in this neighborhood. You can’t fathom why he’d decide to date someone from the same neighborhood as you. 

You're frozen to the spot. Your nails dug into the fragile flesh of the peach you were testing for ripeness moments before your worst nightmare came true. Aizawa doesn't notice you but, to your surprise, she does. Her smile falters and she quickly looks away as if making eye contact with you was painful for her. It was odd to see. You want to look away too, but seeing them is like watching a car crash. No matter how badly you want to look away, you just can’t.

"Oh, hello," Aizawa says when you finally shift into his line of sight.

"Hi," you fake a smile. You were hoping maybe you’d be able to seem genuinely unphased. 

It’s hard to be unphased when he doesn't have to fake a smile. His smile is real and you know she’s the reason for it. 

You clear your throat, "How are you?" 

"I'm good. Uh, this is my girlfriend, Ami."

"Nice to meet you." you lie for the sake of friendliness but refuse to shake hands. 

"I've heard so much about you." Ami says. "About your hero work, of course!"

“Right, of course. Thanks."

“We should get going, babe," he says and places his hand on her back. 

Babe? When did he become a guy who said something like 'babe'. It makes your stomach turn as you walk away. You used to make fun of people who said ‘babe’ together. 

"Why was I not enough for you?" you text him that night. Your eyes are so blurry with tears that you don't even think you could read his response. Not that he will ever respond, you figure. 

You roll onto you side, letting the tears flow from your eyes into the pillow. You clutch on tightly to the fluffy teddy bear he’d bought you for the last birthday you’d spent together.

"Don't do this," he texts back

.You drop your phone onto the bed, and you bury your face against your teddy bear. The muffled scream you let out is full of pain. You still love him. You know you shouldn't, but you want him back. You can taste him on your lips still. 

“Why? Because it's not on your time? Because you're not in control?" you text back.

"No! Because you're being emotional again.” 

“Again? God forbid I have feelings.” 

Aizawa was always so controlled. It was infuriating to know that no matter what you say you will never get under his skin the way you want to. He doesn’t respond for the longest time, and you decide to try once again to get to him. 

“Of course I'm emotional. I fucking love you."

When he doesn't respond, you get the message. There's nothing else to say. He's over you, or he wants to be. All you can do is pick up the pieces.

[risingsoleil]

linzin makeup sex??🤤🤤

It's barely 5am, but he needs to rise anyway to prepare for morning meditation.

Lin is sleeping soundly beside him, back to him. His heart grew heavy with guilt over the past few nights.

Tenzin caressed her thigh, travelling upward and glossing over the curves of her hip and waist. Curious hand slid down until his palm completely cupped Lin's breast.

She shifted and moaned in protest. "Mmm."

The airbender pressed kisses to her neck and behind her ear.

"I'm not going to morning meditation with you."

"You don't have to." His hand slips underneath her shirt and the warmth of her flesh awakens a new desire in him.

"Let me sleeeeep," Lin whined, lightly slapping his hands.

"I'm sorry, Lin." Tenzin presses his body against hers, wiggling his leg between hers. He nuzzles his face into her neck, hoping that she's awake enough to hear what he's saying. "I'm sorry I've been hurting you."

"...I'm tired, Tenz."

"I shouldn't have been so unsure about what I would do if Areum wasn't an airbender. I would stay with you. Not because I'm supposed to, but because I want to. And you, and our children are everything I need in this life."

Lin hasn't moved an inch since his declaration, but she can feel his heartbeat and whether or not he's telling the truth.

Finally, she turned to face him but remained silent.

"I'm so sorry that I sounded unsure of myself when I always promised that the children's bending would never come between us."

"What changed then?"

Tenzin caressed her cheek, pushing back strands that concealed her scars. "If I had children with another woman, it wouldn't be a family."

"It's too early to comprehend this. Please explain like I'm 5 years old or save it for later."

He rolled her on her back and knelt besides her legs, gently pulling down her shorts. "How about I explain it after I make it up to you?"

Lin moaned at her legs being exposed to the morning air. "You better do all the work."

"Of course. All you need to do is enjoy," he whispered, tugging at her panties and throwing them over his shoulder. Tenzin pulled her closer to him, guiding her legs over his shoulders while his tongue tasted and teased her.

His wife's thighs clamped around his head and he knew where Lin was heading soon. Lin raised her hips, meeting his eager mouth and grinding into him. In giving her pleasure, the position took more and more of his breath. But it was worth it if it showed Lin how sorry he was for being so dumb.

Lin's toes curled and she bit on her arm to contain her cries of ecstacy.

Tenzin pulled away with her orgasm on his lips and partially coating his beard. He licked his lips and shimmied out of his pants. With one swift movement, he threw Lin's leg over his shoulder and aligned himself at her entrance.

"I don't want you to hold back. Just scream."

"We're going to wake the kids at this rate and traumatize them for life!"

"They sleep like rocks. Like you."

She glared at him. "Shut up."

Tenzin completely filled her in one intense push and Lin cried out from the sensation.

Slowly, he pumped in and out of her.

"Now just lie back, enjoy it, and be loud," Tenzin demanded in between deep and slow strokes, waiting for her body to adjust to him.

Lin pushed her face into the pillow, still hoping that it could smother her voice. But Tenzin reached over and snatched it from behind her neck and threw it to the floor.

"You---"

He leaned forward and fucked her.

Thank the spirits that he got her wet enough. Lin's face contorted in pleasure, her restrained gasps becoming fully realized cries of bliss. Each powerful thrust created vibrations that surpassed her stomach and rippled in her chest.

He must be fucking all of the guilt, doubt, and sadness out of her.

Then he changed his angle upward and her moans escalated into screams. That transition stroked Tenzin's ego and encouraged him to go further.

At this point, it was blatantly obvious what he and his wife were up to at 5am in their bedroom. But he didn't care.

All that mattered was showing Lin how much he loves her, how much he wants her. And only her.

"Tenzin, please!!" Lin panted, gripping the sheets.

He fucked her faster in that spot that she loves so much, and within seconds, the orgasm barreled into Lin at lightning speed. Her cry of pleasure cut off, the divine feeling too powerful for words or sound. Her inner walls twitched and clenched around him.

A minute later, Tenzin allowed himself to experience the flow of his own pleasure. He pulled out of Lin, grunting and groaning as he came on her pussy. Tenzin pushed some of it inside of her.

When the high simmered down, Lin passed him a tissue and he cleaned themselves. With a little bit of airbending, he discarded the dirtied tissue in the trash bin.

Lin beckoned him to come closer and he lay on top of her. Then she turned her face.

"Your breath," she clarified.

Tenzin gave her a look and blew a puff of air in her face. "Your breath."

Smack!

"Ow!"

"Shut up." Lin pushed him on his back and rested her head over his heart, closing her eyes and memorizing its music.

Tenzin stroked up and down her back soothingly. "Honey, I need to go to morning meditation soon."

"You said you would explain what you meant after fucking me."

A chuckle. "I thought you said you were too tired."

"Well, I got a very intense wake up call. And I'm afraid I won't sleep until I hear it."

Tenzin continued to stroke her back.

"Well? I'm waiting. Unless you were lying to me."

"I wasn't," he assured her. "What I meant was...we have a family. Everything we have together, including our kids, is with love."

Lin drew circles on his arm. "Mhm..."

"If I left to have children with another woman for airbenders, that's not a family. I would be building a life without love with her."

"Okay..."

"And why would I need to do that, when I already have the love I want right here?"

Lin nuzzled closer to him. "So...we are enough?"

A kiss to the crown of her head. Tenzin held her tighter. "More than enough. Everything I could ask for and more. I'm not going to let you go, ever."

"Good. Otherwise, you'll find out how easily I can renovate the island."

Tenzin laughed and Lin smiled up at him.

"Besides," Tenzin began, "you gave me two airbenders. That's more than my parents. So we win."

"Hm, better not let your mom hear you say that."

"We won't. But I'm sure your mother will get a kick of it."

"She doesn't need a bigger ego boost."

[katyspersonal]

I'd say it makes perfect sense that in one way or another, a God (which Empyreans are supposed to become) should reflect the duality with their gender one way OR another! For what a God entails, and to be able to have children with the consort of any gender, I suppose!

At the same time, Miquella IS quite a lot like little Marika, in every sense! He takes her association with plants and Radagon's association with needles both, when Malenia gets none of these! (her "plants" aren't hers, they're Scarlet Rot..) But Radagon IS Marika, so... Basically, if he takes everything from his parents, even Radagon's 'orange' eyes, should splitting have been unique to Marika for some reason, he'd get that too?

It also feels oddly coincidental that Malenia yielded her fate to Miquella and Ranni never wanted to be an Empyrean on her own! And both not have alters. If God should have two sides and they never pursued Godhood, maybe it just didn't manifest? Ranni technically goes become a God anyways, but without her Empyrean flesh, so this can't happen anymore at least?

Radagon's red hair is also result of the curse of Fire Giants! It is more convoluted but not impossible: what if Empyreans have sort of a "defence mechanism" given to them by the Two Fingers, where to not be "wasted" should they fuck around and find out, only a part of them takes the damage and separates? This could explain why Radagon is not a God! As for Miquella, maybe Trina was a result of Miquella taking a sip of Scarlet Rot too much? He had insectoid wings once, and so do Cleanrot Knights, plus there is Trina's association with sleep when Scarlet Rot slowly causes stagnation and in the end makes you as active as a mushroom... Or stranger yet. Slumber Flame is so much an opposite of Frenzied Flame that even their icons and colors are mirrors of each other, Trina was calming Frenzied Nomads in beta version, and Torrent most likely was burnt by Frenzied Flame already (he has burnt marks, his ring already has a dent, and Miquella was shown to ride him in Shadow's Land before). Maybe, Trina was born as a force to combat Frenzied Flame when Miquella was damaged by it?

I think the latter version is really interesting, but yeah, it seems to coexist with the 'Empyreans have androgyny by default' idea since these "defence mechanism" alters are still gendebents!

[holidayinhell]

CWs: vampire whumper, human whumpee, blood, dubcon smut, noncon

It was dark when Whumper slipped into Whumpee’s room. Even the light of the moon was absent that night.

Shadows danced across the walls, but Whumper’s eyes pierced through the darkness, his footsteps inaudible as he crossed the threshold, making his way towards the resting figure laying in bed, lost in sleep. 

He couldn’t resist drinking in every detail of the man’s slumbering face: the gentle curve of his soft, slightly parted lips, the dark lashes fanned delicately against his cheeks. Whumper liked him best like this—sprawled helplessly across the sheets, stripped of that usual, insufferable bravado.

Whumper’s eyes flickered. A shiver of desire crept in, sparked by the sight of Whumpee’s utter defenselessness. He wanted to take him then and there.

So much had changed since they’d last seen each other; at least this was a familiar urge.

Whumper crawled on top of the sleeping man, the mattress sinking under him as he settled his weight over Whumpee’s slender hips.

He shouldn’t have come here. He shouldn’t be doing this. He should have stayed the fuck away. 

But it was getting increasingly harder to fight the bloodlust.

Whumpee shot awake with a terrified jolt.

“Hey. Easy there.”

“WHO THE FUCK?!” Whumpee’s heart pounded as he scrambled to make sense of the shadow looming over him.

“It’s me. Sorry to scare you.”

“Whumper? Jesus fuck!” Whumpee yelled, breathless as he gave Whumper a shaky shove to the chest. “Goddamn it. What the hell are you doing?!”

“Quiet,” Whumper murmured as he pressed a finger to Whumpee’s lips. “Shhhhh.”

Whumpee instinctively took a bite at the finger resting on his mouth.

“Hey.” Whumper snapped.

“Hey yourself, fucko! What did I tell you?!” Whumpee clutched his racing heart, terror still coursing through him. “You’re gonna fucking kill me some day. You’ve gotta stop doing this shit!”

"Sorry. Yeah. I know. But please, calm down," Whumper whispered softly. He gently caught Whumpee's wrists, pressing them back against the pillow. "Easy. Relax."

Whumpee let out a long, exhausted sigh as his frantic heartbeat settled. “Gah. I really thought you were some kind of fucking rapist burglar or something. You scared the shit of me.”

“I know. Sorry.”

There was a long pause as the two sat in the silence of their unspoken thoughts. 

Whumpee stared into the black of the room, his eyes straining to make out anything through the edgeless darkness. On top of him, Whumper watched the other quietly, taking in the lingering fear coursing through Whumpee’s veins, drinking in the thrill of his quickened heartbeat.

Impatient as ever, Whumpee broke the silence first. “Where have you even been?” He piped up.

Whumper couldn’t answer that truthfully. “Why? Did you miss me, Whumpee?”

“No. I didn’t,” Whumpee spat. “But thanks for popping by and scaring the shit out of me anyways.”

Whumpee quickly turned over to reach for the bedside lamp. But just as his fingers grazed the switch, he was interrupted by Whumper’s mouth locking to his lips.

Whumpee jerked away from the sudden, uninvited kiss.

“Fuck you.”

Whumper chuckled. “We can, if you want.”

Whumpee gritted his teeth, trying to squirm free. Whumper hadn’t bothered to call in weeks, and now he showed up in the middle of the night, literally breaking into his house, sneaking into his bedroom, and he what, expected to bone?

“I don’t think so. Get off of me.”

“Don’t be like that.” Whumper chuckled, his hands tracing Whumpee’s collarbone, traversing his touch to the man’s shoulders. His grip slowly tightened around the bony knobs. “I wanted to see you. Sorry I scared you.”

“Dude.” Whumpee tried to shimmy out of his grasp, thrashing to free himself from under Whumper’s weight. “Stop pissing me off.”

“Stop being so fucking dramatic.”

“Then stop scaring the shit out of me at 3 am! Get off!!”

Whumper didn’t move. Instead, he pressed his mouth against Whumpee’s neck, diving into the exposed, soft skin. He planted delicate kisses along the exquisite curve of the other’s throat, each glide of his tongue igniting a trail of goosebumps that danced across Whumpee’s flesh.

“Don’t be such a baby.” Whumper hummed in a low, sultry voice. “I just wanna make you feel good.”

The heat of his breath sent immediate shivers down Whumpee’s spine. Fuck, it felt good—too good. But fuck him, too.

The strong man continued to suckle at the tender area, the warmth of his lips coaxing a soft sigh from the defenseless plaything pinned beneath him. 

Enthralled by the mounting pleasure, Whumpee let his head roll back deeper into the downy pillow, instinctively granting Whumper better access to his neck. Whumpee was a mess of feelings, torn between frustration and the undeniable tightening in his boxers.

“I—nnf. I fucking hate you,” he managed to rasp.

“That’s fine,” Whumper replied with a teasing lilt. "Hate me if you want.”

Whumper’s tongue swirled around Whumpee’s earlobe. Hot, heavy breaths pervaded his senses.

“I know you like this.”

Yes. He loved it.

And he fucking missed it. 

Whumpee’s breath stuttered. Whumper seemed different somehow. Quiet. Intense. Feral. 

There was electricity in the air, a curious energy drew him into the man. As intoxicating as it was, it filled Whumpee with apprehension. As much as he craved the exhilarating pull of Whumper’s touch, a gnawing feeling in his head warned him to keep his distance.

He tried to put an end to it. “It’s nice, but. No. Not tonight.” 

“Shh…” Whumper’s hand dove into the elastic of Whumpee’s waistband. He’d forgotten how persistent Whumper could be.

“I don’t think I can—ah,” The strong hand in his underwear grasped his member, pumping him until his eyes rolled back. God damn it felt good. “Ah—I’ve got stuff to do, ah-!”

“Fuck you smell good.”

Whumpee quivered under the heavy shadow, fists clenching. “Whumper. No. I’ve got stuff to do. In the. In the morning.” 

“Just a little longer,” Whumper hummed. “Come on. It’s been a while…”

Whumpee wanted to hate it—he wanted to lash out, cuss at him, and kick Whumper’s ass right out the door. But fuck, he needed this. Touch-starved from more than a month of no contact, Whumpee yearned for him; he ached to surrender to Whumper, to be held down and pounded into the ground.

Whumper didn’t deserve this from him, though. He knew he shouldn’t give in. He needed to set better boundaries. And yet, he could feel his resolve crumble with every passing second.

Whumpee’s hips buckled as Whumper’s hand continued stroking his cock. He’d chew Whumper out about this later, he decided, drinking in the weight of the muscular thighs pressing him into the mattress. For now he’d enjoy this.

“You smell so good...” Whumper leaned in, planting a firm kiss on Whumpee’s lips as he pulled the slender man’s body off the bed and into his arms, rocking his hips against the other as he gathered him close.

“Mmm. Thanks. You smell…” Whumpee murmured, his voice low and playful as he caught a whiff of Whumper’s scent. “Uh. Kinda like dirt.”

He hadn’t noticed initially, but the smell of rain clung to Whumper’s shirt, filling Whumpee’s nose with its damp, earthen aroma. It smelled especially sharp, mineral-rich, like a mixture of wet soil and stone.

“Wait. Are you muddy? Your shirt is wet. And like, dripping all over m--,” 

Whumper silenced him with another kiss, his hands sliding Whumpee’s underwear down his thighs. Now that he was naked he was more keenly aware of Whumper’s almost… stickiness?

“Seriously, if you got mud in my bed, I swear…” Whumpee muttered. 

“Okay. Stop talking now.”

Whumper roughly pushed Whumpee backwards onto his pillow. He clutched his sharp hips, flipping the man over onto his belly.

“Woah woah woah. Wait!”

“Don’t worry.”

“Wait!” Whumpee repeated, scrambling to lift his chest away from the bed. “I don’t think--”

“Stop moving.”

“Wait. No really, Whumper. I don’t think we should. It’s late.”

“It’s alright.” Whumper purred, tracing a line down Whumpee’s spine with his index finger, delivering a crisp smack to Whumpee’s ass. “I’ll be fast.”

“Dude.” Whumpee shook his head with a weary sigh. “I’m not your personal fuck toy, you know.”

“Sure you are.”

Whumper grabbed the back of Whumpee’s head, shoving his face into the plush pillow and holding it there.

Whumpee’s chest tightened as he tried to catch a breath through the fabric. He thrashed beneath the man pinning him to the bed, refusing to give Whumper the satisfaction of giving in.

“Mmph! MMF MFF!”

“Lay still,” Whumper murmured, ignoring the muffled protests beneath him. “It’ll all be over soon.”

Whumpee twisted his head back once more, only to have it slammed back into the pillow again.

“Don’t look at me.” Whumper commanded, his tone edging on desperation. “Sorry. Please just.”

A hot, wet finger entered Whumpee, and then another. Globs of saliva fell onto his rim, and busy fingers immediately kneaded the moisture inside him. Whumpee kicked his legs out in protest. 

Owwwww. Whumpee moaned into the pillow. It hurt. It fucking burned in his ass, boiled in his stomach. It was all happening entirely too fast.

“Sorry-- for a second. Don’t move.”

Then, without warning, Whumper pressed his enormous cock against Whumpee’s hole. He rammed it against the entrance, eagerly cramming his way inside.

Whumpee lifted his head, letting out a blood-curdling scream.

A strong hand cupped his mouth, silencing his wails. Whumper’s full weight bore down on him as he mercilessly pounded his cock into Whumpee, hand covering his mouth and nose.

The pain was excruciating, devoid of anything remotely close to pleasure.

Next to that, Whumpee could barely breathe.

Whumpee’s tongue jabbed at the palm keeping his mouth closed, wiggling it between Whumper’s fingers.

Holy shit. Holy shit. His ass was on fire and he could barely breathe. 

Scrambling for oxygen, he dug his fingernails into Whumper’s arms, clawing at the flesh with all the strength he could muster. The man on top of him paid no mind. He continued plowing Whumpee into the sheets, merciless and unyielding, refusing to remove his suffocating hand until the man’s thrashing faded into weak, sporadic kicks. 

When Whumpee finally went limp, the hand released its grip. Whumpee gasped for air, taking a deep, ragged breath, and then he screamed. 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Fueled by adrenaline, he twisted his body and lunged toward the lamp on his bedside table.

When the light flicked on, it revealed a horrifying scene. 

All he saw was red.

Red staining his sheets, seeping through the fabric like thick, viscous ink. Red handprints were stamped onto his white pillowcase, smears of red streaked across the white walls and carpet. Whumpee glanced down, and his breath caught; his naked body was coated in it too, like a sticky second skin.

It wasn’t mud that he’d smelled on Whumper.

Frozen in place, Whumpee stared blankly at the man sitting on his bed. 

He must’ve been drenched in gallons of blood. The thick, sticky red stained Whumper’s hands, dripped from his chin, and splattered across his face. The sight was torn straight from a nightmare.

Whumper shook his head slowly, an unsettling calmness in his demeanor.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

His gaze locked on Whumpee, intense and unblinking. A feral, predatory glint in his eye gave a promise of what was to come next.

“Wha-wh-what is…” Whumpee stammered. His pulse hammered in his ears and drowned out all rational thought. His mind screamed at him to run, but his body refused to obey. “Why are you-- i-is that--?!”

“I need more, Whumpee,” the blood-soaked monster pleaded, desperation ringing his voice. “Just a taste.”

“Why are you…?.” Panic kicked into overdrive and Whumpee smacked the man away.

“Just give it to me” Whumpee went in for another hit, but Whumper caught his wrist mid-air, pulling the other into him.

“Please. I don’t want to have to make you.” The hunger pressed against the edges of Whumper’s mind. One quick taste was worth any price.

“FUCK OFF!” Whumpee yelled. “HELP! Somebody, hel--!”

He kicked at Whumper, flailing until his body was thrown from the bed. He could do this. He could make it out of here. He scrambled across the floor, desperately crawling to the doorknob, eager arm outstretched.

Just as Whumpee reached the exit, a brutal grip seized his wrist, wrenching his arm behind his back, sending his cheek crashing into the hardwood floor. 

Whumper climbed on top of Whumpee for the final time. 

“H-help me. Oh my god, oh fucking god…”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

The world around him blurred and spun around Whumpee, every sound distant as pain pulsed from his head and radiated through his body.

“Whumper—W-Whumper please—!”

“I tried.”

“Whumper!” he shrieked. “Don’t!”

“I’m sorry, Whumpee.”

“I-I don’t know what you did.” Whumpee cried. “I won’t tell anyone. I won’t. Don’t...!”

“Doesn’t matter…” he leaned in closer, his breath warm and heavy against Whumpee’s skin. “Sorry. I can’t control it anymore.”

“Don’t d-do this!” 

Whumper pressed his fangs against the soft curve of Whumpee’s neck. 

“Sorry, Whumpee,” he whispered. “I’m just so fucking hungry.”

((more Whump oneshots))

[pureshoney]

"i can be a really good girl when i want to be, you know that, daddy. you also know i just rarely want to be," he points out knowingly. it was confirmed that dylan could behave when she wanted to, but even she knows better than to think she could remain entirely quiet while getting fucked by keenan. she's arguing for the sake of arguing. "when have i ever not been serious about wanting you to fuck me somewhere? keenan, you know that you could do whatever the fuck you want, and i'd still say please and thank you …" because whatever crazy fantasy he had, the blonde probably had one just as intense as his. "red lace is. any outfit requests? or is that up to me?" maybe she could wear a slutty checkered mini skirt and a half-undone button-up shirt to really sell the image of someone who'd be in a damn library, tack on some oversized glasses too. "i think it's only fair if you tell me ahead of time what level of brat i need to reach for you to take it away from me so i can make sure i don't get to that level," offers in rebuttal but knowing she most likely won't get the answer she wants. "oh they'll be fucking fine, they're all jealous anyways," probably shouldn't be talking about her friends in that way. still, they were. as much as they didn't like keenan because of the money disparity, they all wished their boyfriends gave them as much attention as he did dylan. "i don't know, but in my defense … i work on my phone too so that will be skewed! it's at least seven hours a day, though," she admits, letting a nonchalant shrug roll off her shoulders. "i look at cute cats and dogs, too; it's not always the sexy snake man. i promise i look at your pictures on my phone more," teases with a playful giggle. "not even a nightgown? i could wear those big grandma ones … i have to be comfortable when i'm going to sleep you know. i can't be sexy for you all the time," hums as her right hand reaches forward to rub his hard-on from over his pants, smirking up at her man at the realization of just how hard he was given the fact that she hadn't even touched him until now. mouth hangs wide open, nodding her head enthusiastically. "yes, yes … i love it," hips roll in loose circles in an attempt to get more friction from his digit, wet hole clenching around nothing. blonde sucks in a sharp breath when mouth envelopes hardened nipple, "daddy," whimpers as he sucks the cream off the skin of her breasts. shoots him a look through long lashes, beginning to rub him faster through the material of his trousers. if he wanted to be a tease, so could she. "mhm … aside from your dick," she's shaking the can in anticipation of his response, immediately complying and pouring a line down the side of her neck. "what about here too?" slowly brings the can toward her legs once more, spraying some over the upper part of her cunt and down toward his digit that was still working against her clit. "i know you fuckin' love eating my pussy too."

"good enough to avoid a librarian chasing us out of their sanctuary? i'm not convinced, princess. you love my dick too much to be quiet while i'm fucking you with it." his words were tinged with smugness because it was the truth in keenan's mind, she was addicted to him and he was addicted to her. "if you're really serious about being railed in a library we're gonna have to train you, practice gagging your filthy mouth and keeping the noise down." it would be difficult for him too, her cunt fit him so perfectly, he was bound to let a few groans slip free as he stretched her. "lace too, red lace dyl", homme adds with a serious nod, already picturing how pretty she'd look with them stuffed inside her mouth, tickling her tongue as she bit down on them. he might just have to prop his phone up amongst those books and record the salacious activity. "hey, i don't want to take your prized possession away — but if you push me far enough baby i have to punish you. it's only fair, you're not gonna learn any other way." wonders just how frustrated she would become, if she would actually hump her own expensive furniture to feel that pressure build inside of her. "if you say so, princess. just know, if you ever do get to that stage i'll take it away and make you beg for it, make you film yourself fucking your own furniture to prove that you need it back badly enough." she can throw that sexy pout at him until the sun rises and he'll still remain true to his word. "they might faint on the spot if they get a look at my dick, do you want to be responsible for putting them in hospital?", jokes as a chuckle escapes, although he isn't opposed to sneaking his hand under one of her tiny skirts or dresses and fucking her that way. "just out of curiosity, what's your weekly screen time average? 'cause with the shit you're throwing out i'm guessing it's in the double digits?" can't say it isn't amusing though, how she tosses out random facts that have him lost for words. "i just look at cute cats and dogs struggling to get down off couches", homme playfully remarks, grinning as he shrugs. "typical all american good guy things, you know?" although in truth, those videos did tug on his heartstrings a little bit. "if you do i'll just rip it off you princess, i don't care where we are if i see you wearing a shapeless dress that hides that body i'll go insane — you're too sexy to be pulling that shit." emotions had always been difficult for him to grasp, he always felt things so intensely -- whether it was hate or love, he tended to be cautious around other people, a lesson learned from loving his mother only to end up with her dead at the hands of the one person he hated more than anything. but with dylan it was so fucking easy to be himself, to fall into comfort around her — she made him happy. there was no denying the fact that he was falling in love with her. but he was terrified to admit it. "like that, princess?" smirks as he plays with her clit, slowly rolling his digit across that swollen bundle of nerves. so badly wants to sink himself inside her right this second, yet refrains for the sake of having some messy fun. "you're always a big fucking mess for me, baby. don't lie." mouth engulfs one perky nipple, tongue flicking against it as he swallows a mouthful of sweetened cream. "mm", lips leave her hardened bud with a soft pop, "aside from my dick?" male coyly comments, "how about on your neck? i fuckin' love marking you up princess, squirt some down the side of it for daddy to lick up."