#but i find if i post art of him outside of prompts i get a slew of ‘oh i hate this guy but-‘ headass takes and

[cozymochi]

Your tiaseb art gave me rabies for how well you drew Sebek

Pls feed us more Sebek art/nf🙏🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

Sebek's the best character trust

You are objectively correct.

And THANK YOUUU 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕💕

i’d like to. it just lol I DONT KNOW! i am a homie who sometimes just gets easily discouraged 🤡 but I guess we’ll see in time

[hoshinasblade]

For real, the animator had ri have been a Hoshina loyalists. Cause no way he looks that bad. For a Narumi prompt it could be funny that he gets with someone that doesn't know him. Someone who doesn't believe he is the 1st division captain because they only see him as the "wet cat" version of himself. And we have Narumi losing his mind over the fact you don't believe him

(not sure where tumblr took my post again because i cant find it lol) the budget went to hoshina and his tight shirt and there was nothing left to animate narumi properly. anyway, this is such a cute and interesting prompt because because yes, he is losing his mind over you not believing he is the cool first division captain 😆

pairing: gen narumi x f!reader trigger warnings: narumi gen is a trigger warning himself, just super short because im not used to writing anything narumi-related yet. hopefully you don't get mad at me anon for not going exactly per the ask lol my brain is a mush right now, i'll try harder on my next fics

the rich man is here, shouted the kids from the hallway. you can hear their hurrying footsteps - excited little taps that in turn triggered your heartbeat to race as well. you shut your eyes, calming yourself down.

narumi gen is not exactly a rich man; the children in the orphanage just calls him that fondly. apparently he has been dropping by for years, way back when you weren't working as a teacher yet. the older orphans refer to him as nii-san.

narumi would bring toys snd snacks for the kids, and would spend time with them until the early evening before he has to say goodbye. last time, he played video games with everyone; he brought crayons and sketch boobs for his visit today, and within an hour, it was eerily quiet - the little girls and boys holding their pencils, drawing all sorts of things.

the youngest in your herd, a six-year old boy with a missing front tooth ran to you when he saw you by the door, showing you his drawing - a stick-man figure with a knife in its hand, and an animal beside it which you were not sure whether it's an oversized dog or a giraffe.

"it's a kaiju, and narumi nii-san is fighting it", the boy explained, and you patted him in the head. "he's a captain of his team, i'm gonna be like him when i grow up!"

you looked at narumi who is sitting on the floor, but he was already looking at you. you shifted your gaze. "this is so pretty, we should display it in the art wall", you suggested to the boy who grinned at you, clapping.

"you know that it's not a good thing to do, lying to kids, right?" the children had bid narumi goodbye just past 7pm, and although some of them cried, narumi was quick to promise he would be back next weekend. you were surprised, he used to only be here once a month.

"huh?" he responded to you with confusion. you walked him out the orphanage to the parking lot outside. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"look, i know you are trying to be nice. and i thank you for that. what you've done for these kids is more than anyone else have done for them. but telling them you're some guy who kills kaiju is wrong. and telling them they can be like you?" you scoffed.

narumi's mouth was wide open before he realized you have finished your speech. "but i am a guy who kills kaiju", he replied, his hand on his chest as if he is swearing on his life. "really, i'm not lying. i'm the captain of my team -"

"right, and you fight kaiju on the daily," you finished his sentence for him.

"yes, i am a real badass, i promise!" he exclaimed when he sensed you do not believe him in the slightest. it looks comical how he looks close to panicking over the fact that you are not buying whatever he's selling. he frowned at you, and you stared at him, the eye contact lasting for a few seconds.

maybe this guy is a con-artist and he makes his living manipulating people, you said to yourself. this would make a lot of sense considering you think he has the good looks to lure people in. narumi had flirted at you once or twice before - or you wish he was flirting and you were not just reading too much on his actions.

"you know if you meet my friends, they would tell you the truth," he suggested, his voice cheerful.

"why would i meet your friends?" you asked, equally confused.

"so they can tell you that i am the coolest captain of the anti-kaiju defense force. they would also tell you i am a good man and a dependable friend," narumi said, reciting maybe the contents of his curriculum vitae to you. is he in a job interview? you wanted to ask but didn't.

you sighed in defeat. "are your friends as exasperating as you are?" you asked in jest.

"come on, let me impress you", he told you with sincerity that is almost startling. you were not expecting him to sound so genuine, so adamant at proving himself to you.

the kids will have their dinner in a few minutes and you will be needed to help out. you gave narumi one last glance before strolling back to the orphanage. "i'm off on fridays", you said.

narumi's smile could have lighted the entire street.

[theus-what-are-you-doing]

DAY 30: COLD

Yet another addition to @cinderellaboyincorectquotes and their anonymous submitter's "Last week of October Challenge". I thank you both for the prompts as always, It was quite fun to work on this one, especially as I had more time to work on it today!

With you guys seemingly liking the prior entry with the fic, I thought it would be good to do a less angsty oneshot to help ease those feelings caused by our poor scared Buddy yesterday. It admittedly has been posted much later than I intended because writers block held my ass in a chokehold midway through. Nevertheless, I made the fic a little longer to try and make it up to you all for the wait. As always, I hope you all enjoy it!~

(If you guys stick around till the end, you might get another art piece linking to the fic too 👀)

=================================

“Look like you’re Freezing”

Cinderella Boy OneShot || 1988 Words

Tonight was a special night.

It was Buddy’s first night of proper freedom, after all. The first night he had a chance to go outside after spending weeks smuggled away in the attic of the one and only Chase Everett Hollow, the first night he would be able to feel the soft autumn breeze on his skin or hear the soft crunch from stepping on the vibrant leaves that lined the streets. The first night that the chapter of his new life started.

See, a few weeks prior, Buddy and his key companion, Violet, managed to flee from the restrictive grasp of Ex Libris and the cage that they were locked within under his servitude. How? It was quite simple, or at least it was for Buddy. He was just waiting around in his cell for his next orders when he heard the door unlock and braced to see his master, only to see the face of…Deacon? He would soon be pulled from his shackles, encouraged to flee from the room. That's when he would come across Chase in the main hall running circles around the being he had grown to be so terrified of, purple key in hand and laughing. He would always ask how they managed to find the location and get in but it was always a mixed reprise about hunting them down over the last few years and Deacon’s brilliant plan to break in but not to get out.

Nevertheless, Buddy was thankful, even now as he stood by the window of the attic, staring down at the streets below with his breathing heavy and arms shaking. Despite being out of the control of Ex Libris, Buddy couldn't help himself, still having a deep fear rooted within, present within his nightmares. A despair that one day he would wake up and be back in that damned cell, or that he would open his eyes to the figure of Ex Libris looming over him, ready to snatch him and the keys back, to hurt his precious Chase.

Speaking of the devil, footsteps interrupted him from his winding thoughts, just as arms wrapped around him from behind and gave a cheeky but affectionate squeeze. A cheery voice met his ears, pleasant and always managing to calm him.

“What are you doing brooding up here?”

“I’m not brooding”

“Uh huh…~”

Buddy took a deep breath, turning around with his features still shaking. Such a sight caused the owner of the voice, Chase, to stiffen a little, eyes growing clouded with worry as he took his hands. He knew what this was about, It had been like this for the past few weeks and he wasn't an idiot.

“Still worried about them returning, huh..?”

This earned a soft noise and a following nod from Buddy as he sunk his weightless and lanky body into him, giving Chase something akin to a hug, but lacking any arm movement. The blonde’s arms moved up to wrap around his waist to make up for it however, just as his voice hushed down into a barely audible whisper.

“Well… We’re going to head outside together today…We need to get you some clothes. You can do this..”

They both glanced down at the oversized crimson hoodie that Buddy had practically lived in for the past few weeks, A strange phenomenon of never changing out of it unless forced when it needed to be washed or until he was showering, becoming an even stranger cycle as he insisted on staying in his towel until the hoodie had been washed and dried. As cute as the raven looked in it, however, he admitted he needed a change, both of them did. And so, with a moment's hesitation, Buddy nodded to the suggestion of leaving, soon pulling away and moving to slip into some shoes that he had actually borrowed from Deacon.

The two would make their way downstairs passing the keys as they travelled to the door, and Buddy couldn't help but make a note of what was happening with them. See, Chase’s hunt for keys inevitably made its way to Grandad Ralph finding out about their existence. Despite his initial shock, he did allow them to have access to the rest of the house after feeling a little bad that they were stuck in the attic, but only if they agreed not to cause any destruction (which in all honesty, they were quite good at somehow doing the opposite, leaving the rooms cleaner than when they first entered). They made quite a few games with their new found freedom, but they were currently making flower crowns out of origami paper provided by Prunella's mother, yet another person who found out about their existence, even befriending a key herself. 

Buddy made some sort of amused noise as he spotted Violet towards the back of the table, feverishly and methodically making flowers for her sister, Silver. She glanced up after catching sight of him, grinning with her opalesce eyes shining, and soon called him over.

“You're going out?”

“Yeah… I thought it was about time.”

“How brave! What exactly are you doing?”

“I believe getting clothes…”

“That's exciting! Make sure to get yourself something nice! And… oh! Could you get more of these paper things? They're rather fun to play with!”

Buddy nodded, finding it hard to not grin with her infectious excitement. He couldn't deny that ever since Violet had reunited with her siblings under the care of the Hollows, she seemed… So much happier, like the colours in her eyes were brighter and more radiant. It was nice to see such a positive effect. Yet he couldn't dawdle, with Chase watching from the door and unintentionally pressuring him to hurry up. He bid his “See you soons” to her and quickly got to the door.

The next events went by in an overwhelming swirl for the poor raven, all too much as he was pulled out of the house, pestered after meeting up with Deacon and Prunella, and whisked away to the shopping centre. Once there however, he would admit that the seemingly infinite stores were impressive at least, with most of his interest focusing within what Chase described as “Alt shops”. Many of the outfits there reminded him of what Violet was so fond of dressing him in back in their old life… and although such outfits were linked with quite a bit of negativity, he couldn't help but gravitate toward them. Nevertheless, he had managed to collect quite a few things he adored, including but not limited to: band tees, loose jackets, an array of villain themed jumpers and hoodies that he thought Violet might enjoy and boots that he only got because they made him even taller than Chase.

Before he knew it, the trip was over, and the three had made their way through the automatic doors of the shopping centre, leaving to what seemed to be quite the bit of a different environment.

Buddy seemed to stumble, pausing a bit as he exited, finally taking note of the changes around him. The sky had turned a deep orange and the streets were dimly lit by the warm lanterns lining them. But there were so many shadows, things he couldn't quite see.

So… this was night?

Of course, this wasn’t the first time the boy had seen the evening sky, having a tendency to always quietly admire them from the attic window. But to actually be out in it was a completely different story. Every shadow could hold them… he could be dragged in and no one would even know. There were those nerves again from before, causing his fingers to tremble. Deacon and Prunella had seemingly started to walk off, not wanting to get caught with the chill in the air and a little busy talking about a horse top Prunella had forced Deacon to buy.

But Chase paused and lingered beside his frozen friend, approaching quietly and snapping his attention to him as he drew him into a hug. Although the affection wasn't returned immediately, he eventually felt the raven hair tickle his jaw as Buddy began to bury himself into the crook of his neck. They spent a few moments like that before they both pulled away, Buddy's hands slipping to Chase's hips and his own hands resting on the other's chest. Feeling the beating heart under his fingertips, Chase suddenly understood what was happening. But they had come so far! Buddy was enjoying himself up to now, would it have been the best response to point it out? 

That's when Chase had decided, and in not wanting to bring it up and make buddy self conscious after they had come so far, he sweetly smiled before taking a different approach. Taking a brand new striped scarf that Buddy had gotten while out, he took a moment to drape it around both of their shoulders, earning a confused glance from the raven.

“What are you doing?”

Chase let out a giggle

“Just giving you a bit of warmth! You look like you're freezing!”

Buddy took a moment, eyebrows furrowed as some cogs began to turn in his mind. Yet they stopped after a moment, confusion meeting his expression again

“That's not… My shoulders aren't cold..?” 

Chase had to stifle a laugh at the pure adorableness of Buddy not entirely understanding what he was trying to do. He promptly pushed a little further, seeing if that could achieve his goal.

“Then perhaps another part of you is… Your legs, your chest..”

Chase's hands began to glide over his chest area, causing a bob to form in Buddy’s throat. What was that feeling? Like his stomach was flipping and wriggling… it wasn't unpleasant but certainly new. Chase only continued with his suggestions.

“Your face, your ears… maybe even your lips?”

So that was his plan, hoping he could distract him with flirting, strange but not entirely uncredible, that had worked in the past after all.

Buddy went bright red with the suggestion, mind lingering on the lips. He wouldn't deny that he had been wanting to kiss Chase from the moment that he and deacon had saved him. Scratch that, he's wanted to kiss him from the moment he started providing him with food within their book based adventures, ever since he slept in that damn hoodie when Chase first left it behind, way before he was saved. 

For so long now, he had longed to pursue him. But Buddy wasn't entirely sure how to initiate such a relationship, strange since he had seen so many books where the hero kissed the Heroine, so many initiated kisses. But none had ever been the Heroine and the villain... All he could do was try, lips parting as he answered 

“Well… My lips are a little cold… I don't suppose you have a way to warm them up, do you?” 

Chase couldn't help but bite his own lip, looking up with a bit of a starstruck expression, kind of surprised that Buddy was actually entertaining him. He nodded softly, muttering a “Can I?”. Once receiving a nod from Buddy, he took a bit of an anticipating breath before leaning up. This had been the moment that he had waited for, the moment he had… admittedly dreamed more times than he could count.

His eyes closed as he planted a soft kiss upon the others thin and cold lips, pressing into them and receiving a similar motion back. What was meant to be a sweet peck soon would linger, neither boy willing to pull away. Buddy's eyes closed slightly just as drew Chase closer by his waist, a warm and unfamiliar feeling blooming in his chest and easing his anxieties and fear. His shaking finally began to stop, and although occupied with what was becoming an admittedly heated kiss, a faint thought crossed his mind. 

Perhaps he was finally safe after all.

[crepesuzette2023]

Hi! Because someone just asked me, I'd love you hear your Top 5 favourite McLennon fics!

You made my day! Nothing could have made me happier than this ask.

I'm not going to evade your question. I will post my top-five, even though it hurts to choose. But you inspired me to finally write a longer (okay: very long) post about some (not nearly all!) of my favorites, which will be under the cut.

(Sorry for not knowing every writer's tumblr, by the way. Please feel free to let me know, so I can tag authors where appropriate. Thank you!)

My Top 5:

MIRACLE WORKER by @scurator. What can I say. Every time I need my heart broken and to feel an inkling of what grace truly means, I go to this masterpiece about Paul and Robert Fraser finding each other again at Cavendish in 1981.

COAST STARLIGHT by bookofapril is "Miracle Worker's" cosmic twin. The sun to its night. Paul and Robert Fraser on Fire Island in 1974. Nothing I can say will do it justice, so I won't try. This is the "other world" conjured in "Tug of War," so powerfully and joyfully imagined, it's real. (I'm always thinking of this story, but I did so extra hard when I came across a prompt recently: 'They aren't each other's first love, but they're each other's true love'.)

SAME AS IT EVER WAS by RedheadAmongWolves. My favorite Outsider's POV. An ageing newsstand owner from Liverpool remembers John and Paul as boys and young men. There's something magical about the relationship coming alive in these glimpses. A story filled with tenderness that reminds me to always look closely.

AN ORGASM OF SOUND by @pauls1967moustache. The insanity of John and Paul in 1967 got the tribute it deserves. I sleep easier since I read this story. It feels cosmically right that it exists.

PLANT A SEED by @eveepe. Paul in his slutty sailor outfit in Miami. He and John are into each other, and happy, and fuck slowly. Afterwards, Paul has an idea for a new song. That's it. Tender, glorious, hot perfection. Apply at least once a week for best results.

For more thoughts about some of my favorite stories, sorted into very much defined-ad-hoc categories, read under the cut.

Young Love:

I love the myth of their first meeting, and stories that speculate about the sexually loaded creative fireworks/gritty jealousies/tentative hand-holding/topping and tailing during the first years. Here are some faves:

Paul finds music, and John, and his life is changing. In STREETS OF OUR TOWN (@with-eyes-closed) you can taste the upheaval and promise of first love and growing up. Deeply sensual, even without on-page sex. The shaky, sweet, and all-consuming fire of John and Paul’s first kiss is immortalized in ALL I KNOW SINCE YESTERDAY (RedheadAmongWolves). In NON NOBIS SOLUM (@downtothe-lastdrop), art student John simply has to know how far grammar school boy Paul will go to please him. But Paul matches him play-by-play. In THE CAST IRON SHORE (@m1ssunderstanding) Paul earns extra money through music and sex. John finds out. They fall in love, and hide their mutual pining behind transactions—but in the end, they man up to pair up, and get their band back on track. (The first part is finished; I can’t wait for part 2.) John and Paul’s ’61 trip to Paris has been honored in fiction many times; WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG THEY ASSUME YOU KNOW NOTHING (@lilypadd23) is a slow-burning, blessedly long story that blossoms sweetly. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT is the concept by which Paul measures both his pining for John and their deeply satisfying (but surely not really queer?!) sex life. Perfectly realized Paul POV by @merseydreams. Finally: I NEED YOU DARLIN’ (verse) (by @beatlessideblog) would have fit many categories, but I put it here, because in the end, it’s about young John and Paul becoming friends, making music, having sex, and falling in love. No more, no less. Embedded in a late 50’s/early 60's Liverpool omegaverse in which there's a place for their bond. But, surprise (?!): It’s still complicated. I can’t overstate how charming and satisfying and funny and hot this work is.

Old John and Paul:

Is there anything as lovely as imagining John and Paul growing old together?

In HERE TODAY (@herspecialagent), John and Paul found happiness with each other in Scotland. On 8th December 1980, they invite friends for a party, and fight an inexplicable sense of doom. A reminder that our other lives can be closer than we think, and to keep our loved ones even closer.

GROW OLD WITH ME (@inherownwr1te): Old farmers and husbands John and Paul enjoy domestic bliss, deal with a broken arm, and make sweet love.

HAVING COFFEE (@feathersandblue): John Lennon and Paul McCartney, “one of the most iconic gay couples in history,” look back on their early love, the Beatles, and being outed in the 80’s, in this oh-so-glamourous, well-written 2020 portrait…

Magical re-tellings of J/P and/or the Beatles Story:

No matter where you come down on the blessed vs. cursed continuum—they were living through something magical.

In KISSING THE BLARNEY (@zilabee) the Beatles draw love and music from kissing Paul, and each other, until the stupid world interferes. But fear not, all ends well. How to tell the truth through whimsy: this story demonstrates it.

In WE ARE ALL TOGETHER (also by @zilabee), John and Paul switch bodies. It helps.

I WAS A YOUNGER MAN NOW (THEN) (POST HOC) BY @fingersfallingupwards: Paul is a time traveler and braids his life together with John’s, out of order, through the years. And yes, they do grow old together—but not without losing each other first. I’m in awe of this story.

A darker time-traveling story is A MATTER OF TIME (D12Fan), in which John and Paul love each other, over and over, and never manage to make it work—but Paul won’t give up.

FOR THOUGH THEY MAY BE PARTED (@downtothe-lastdrop): The misery of the 'Get Back' sessions and memory-stunting technology imported from “Severance” are not enough to kill off John and Paul’s attraction and longing for each other. Again, this is basically what happened, so.

John and Paul without the Beatles?

Yes, please! Sometimes, the best way to dissect and celebrate (and fix?) this mesmerizing and exasperating partnership is to lift it from its context and drop it elsewhere. Anything goes.

WHATEVER FATE DECREES by @dailyhowl: A gorgeous, finely spun, securely handled, self-contained vision of how John and Paul could have worked as artists in love, without a band to 'legitimize' and constrain their bond. I love this homage to their deep and complicated love that needed trust and breathing room.

1967 by @walkuntilthedaylight: What if John and Paul had gone to Spain together and not come back? This story not only explores their relationship layer by layer, it also dives into the the feelings of those who knew them 'before' and who now meet them again, as a couple. A fascinating alternate history. Not a fluffy one.

TOMORROW I'LL MISS YOU (@pauls1967moustache): Paul abandons John in Hamburg—or John stays behind without bothering to write, depending on who you ask. This "Before Sunset"—AU reunites them, years later. They ride a bus and write a song, and the love and tension are sweet and painful.

DOUBLE FANTASY (by @javelinbk): Modern AU in which John and Paul meet at John's flower shop and manage to ignore and creatively re-interpret their feelings for one another for a surprising amount of time, before fate has mercy. I love how their sweet, well-matched eccentricity makes the world a warmer place for both of them.

WE ARE STARDUST (Unchained_Daisychain): AU. John and Paul meet at Woodstock, fall hard and fast for each other, and have to decide what to do with it: Paul's life is back home in England...except...

Angst, darkness, and courage:

Pain, fear, grief, and other dark emotions are part of the real J/P story, so it makes sense to honor and harvest them in fiction. One of my favorite brands of McLennon angst is the one triggered by their feelings for each other, and the thing they become once they're together™. When they're scared of how much they need each other, and of what will happen next.

ONE AND ONE AND ONE IS THREE and MANAGING EXPECTATIONS (both by @pauls1967moustache), for instance. The first is a terrifying threesome with Yoko (at John's instigation, of course), in which trust is never rewarded and sex resolves nothing. The second is Paul wondering, in thoughts both messy and crystal clear, whether he exists independently of John. He turns to Brian for answers. They fuck. It feels like a human thing compared to what is going on in Paul's mind. Just astounding.

SUNDAY DRIVER (@boshemians) dives into the theme of Paul and John being afraid of themselves in the aftermath of Paul's accident (moped, sexual) with Tara Browne. This one, like "Managing Expectations," ends on a lovely grace note.

MACABRE (@dovetailjoints). Lennon and McCartney go too far.

OPEN HEART (@paisanas). Paul drinks John's blood. John lets him. But Paul starts to hate himself for how much he needs John, which John feels as rejection. I love how this story ends on Paul embracing his need. You can see the painful, bare bones of their malnourished love under the lush sensuality of the vampire sex. Raw and rich.

SILENCE (@ohjohnnysblog). Short and piercing. If there is someone you love—tell them. Don't wait.

THE LATE, GREAT JOHNNY ACE (@midchelle). Reeling with grief, Paul is recording an album in 1981. George and Ringo are there. John is not. But in the end—he is. And they touch. I've always admired Paul's resilience in the face of having to perform or "prove" his love of John in public, and this story showed me, without sugar-coating, where this resilience comes from.

Light, hope, and fixing things:

There is also much lightness and brightness in McLennon, because John and Paul were ridiculous, and horny, and weird. And also: they deserve a laugh. They deserve the fluffiest of happy endings. They deserve high-quality, life-affirming smut. They deserve silly, because silly is what they were. You know their names, look up their number.

1980. John is in BERMUDA (@scurator), Paul visits. Paul comes prepared, John just comes. Sometimes, it can be this simple. This story always leaves me in such a good mood. Paul is the (more) experienced one, and it...really works for me.

GOT TO GET DOWN (@eveepe): In praise of John's obsession with Paul's...precious. His small and perfect prick.

ADVENTURES IN TOTAL HONESTY (@merseydreams). Pithy and sexy, and, I quote from the tags: #Excessive Margarita Mixing.

ANINUT (@pauls1967moustache): The Beatles heal, together and separately, after Brian's death. Once more, I quote the writer: "The Beatles did not follow any of the Jewish mourning traditions, and frankly, they should have."

The unhinged weirdness of the Mad Day Out, with John and Paul escaping and Francie, Yoko and Mal not missing them...much, is rightfully celebrated in one of the insaner stories I read: JOHN, I'M ONLY DANCING (@skylikeaflame)

FAIR'S FAIR (@javelinbk): John and Paul are being silly during a press conference, resulting in acute arousal requiring John's skilled intervention. I love the unexpected care and tenderness in this one!

WHERE THE POETS WENT (RedheadAmongWolves): Tender and enchanted story in which Paul and John go to a bookstore, where they're not as famous as everywhere else. As delicate as the chiming doorbells and the pages murmuring around them.

TAKEN AWAY (@crumblingcookies) Extraterrestrial Intelligence intervenes to reunite John and Paul.

CAN I TAKE MY FRIEND TO BED? (manhattanvalleys). Paul fucks the band in sequence and gets off in the end, as is his due. This is a story like Prince's KISS. No filler, all effect.

THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY (@ohjohnnysblog). Warm and nostalgic phone sex in the 70's.

KEEP THE LIGHT WE'RE GIVEN (@backbenttulips). Amidst the rise of Beatlemania, Paul and John expect their first child. This is Paul's 1962 diary.

More Outsider POV's:

STILL MATES (@pauls1967moustache): in 1968, Peter Asher takes the leap to act on his feelings for his sister's spiraling ex fiancé. This isn't about Paul as much as about Peter, and who he wants to be. Gutting character study. It made me love Peter.

ANOTHER GIRL (@boshemians): Astrid reunites with the Beatles during the making of AHDN and registers their words and deeds with the same stark objectivity as her camera. I love how she seeks the shelter of obscurity while they are being dragged into the limelight. But she sees them, wherever they are. J/P in this story feels incredibly real to me.

WHY BUY THE COW (RedheadAmongWolves). The milkman sees everything on his early morning rounds: the arrival of a nice new family, the McCartneys, the mother's illness, the sadness after her death...and the arrival of a new love in the older son's life. He shouldn't approve—should say something, in fact. But a small inner voice holds him back.

SLEEPLESS IN WALES (thinkpink20). Mike overhears Paul and John whisper in bed. He doesn't understand everything they say. I do. Adorable.

Not each other's first love, but each other's true love

THIS YEAR'S FOR ME AND YOU (@skylikeaflame): After a long life, after deep and loving partnerships with other people, John and Paul, encouraged by their grown-up children, finally meet their mutual love head on. A festive story about waiting the perfect amount of time.

THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas): The Beatles are in the past; John and Paul's love is in ashes. Paul, who is fragile and bereft, lives with George, who is content. The four ex-Beatles unite for the second wedding of Mike McCartney. At times, the aching grief in this story is almost unbearable. But the love between George and Paul is unusual and real. This is unfinished. I'll keep waiting for the final chapter.

Beyond J/P

WANT ME WHEN I'M NOT THERE (@backbenttulips): Linda catches Paul cheating on her with John. She divorces him. Finally: a story that puts her most likely reaction front and center, with no mercy for the messed-up geniuses.

In the Rebecca-AU LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (@backbenttulips), Yoko becomes Mrs. Lennon. Soon, she discovers that her husband is haunted by the ghost of his first love. It's pleasing how well this re-telling matches the events as they (alas) (almost) happened. The ending is chilling. Genuinely horrifying. I love seeing Yoko as the sensible one and as the focus of empathy.

THE BASS LESSON (@aquarianshift). Paul and Stu fool around without letting go of their mutual resentment for even a moment. And it works. "Let's never do this again." I don't think so.

TELL ME ALL MY LOVE'S IN VAIN (@midchelle). Forget about quote unquote platonically obsessed male rock stars: This about about Maureen and Patti through the years. The web weaving continues.

SPOTLIGHT ON JOHN AND STU (@dailyhowl) A love story in letters—too brief, like Stu's life, but sounding as if the writer transcribed their dictation. Some of the best descriptions of what it must have been like to play on stage with the Beatles during the mania are in NO I IN THREESOME (@with-eyes-closed). George finds himself in the beam of attention between John and Paul, and nearly loses his mind. But he's determined to stay and become part of them. Paul is daddy and "fucks like music" as seen through George's eyes. The whole story is vicious and hot and uncomfortable—until there's the love and quiet at the eye of the storm.

Not for the faint of heart! WHAT THE CIGGIE CARTON SAW (@waveofhand): Paul McCartney having his way with cigarettes.

This is getting out of hand...but I'll stop here. There are so many more stories I love. And I can think of many other categories that would deserve their own post.

So, who knows: To be continued?

[mazeruffleposts]

Hashira's React Pt.1

Decided to make a series known as "Hashira's React" for different situations. It's more for the giggle factor than much else. I will not be including Muichiro for this one specifically cause he is CHILD. And I will also leave out our lovable big bear Gyomei cause I'm not entirely sure how to write for him yet. Will make another post later just for him! Other than that feel free to send prompts for this, I'd love to work out your ideas regardless if they are dorky, simple, or in this case Slightly NSFW.

Sidenote, the art used here does not belong to me, If I can find the artist I will add it just below.

Content Warning: Mentions of Nudity

Word Count: 1.8 K

Proofread? No.

Hashira's react! to walking in on Love interest!Reader in the middle of changing! They caught you changing back into your uniform after getting a wound checked at one of the Wisteria Houses. They are all goofballs and I love them~

TENGEN (+ Hina, Makio, Suma)

アイロギ@ilog_kmt on https://twiman.net/

The Uzui's had met you after a rather long mission and almost immediately fell for you. Since then Tengen has been pulling some strings so that the lot of you could go on missions together.

Had heard from one of his mice that the reason you were late for the mission meet-up was because you had been hurt fairly bad in your last one. They all decide it's a great time to swoop in and try to woo you a bit. Ya know, show they genuinely care! (And shower you with some gifts while they were at it. I fully believe the Uzui's not only spoil each other but also any other love interests!)

Suma, being the worry wart she is, came crashing into the room not even bothering to knock. Makio came next chewing her out for being rude. Lastly, Tengen and Hina followed with the gifts. (Flowers and some bento's. Food in any medical setting tends to be bland and that's not very flamboyant.)

Suma cried out as Makio tried to pull her back to her. "Did you forget basic manners?" "Makio, please she was just worried about them!" Hina's voice rand out as she walked into the room, none of them having noticed what they walked into yet. "That doesn't excuse her from busting in!" Tengen follows in quickly, eyes closed with a wide smile as he holds up the ridiculously large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Pardon the intrusion, we heard you were-" Hina gasps, finally catching sight of you panicked and red-faced as you try to cover your bits. "O-OH!" Everyone quickly looks over to Hina, then to you. Suma squeals as Makio damn near picks her up to get her out of the room as Tengen and Hina quickly turn on their heels and dart out as well. A string of apologies is left in their wake as they slide the doors closed.

They are all blushing madly cause they on one hand felt bad about busting down the door, but on the other hand, got to confirm you are one hot SOB.

They wait until you are fully dressed before they even attempt to make contact. Starting off with apologies and Suma clinging to you saying she was sorry.

Suma may or may not have also let it slip she thought you were hot.

KYOJURO

アイロギ@ilog_kmt on https://twiman.net/

He had heard from a passing friend(everyone is this mans friend, let's be honest) that you were hurt. Right then and there he decided he was going to come bring you flowers to liven up the room while you were in recovery.

Since he really likes you, he took some advice from Uzui and got you a ridiculously large bouquet. Maybe a little over the top, but it's too late to turn around and get a different one. In his slightly overthinking state, he forgot to knock before opening the door.

He fumbles with the rather large bouquet of flowers in his hands as he paces outside your room's door, fretting for a bit if all of that is truly necessary. Tengen had told him to absolutely shower you in, his words, 'Flamboyant' gifts. And he trusts his friend's advice, especially since he had three wives who absolutely adored him. Taking a breath to steel himself, he grinned that bright smile of his and swung open the door without a second thought. "My dear friend, I have brought yo- O-oh... Oh my-" Out of sheer surprise, he dropped the flowers and covered his face. "M-MY GOODNESS! FORGIVE ME I SHOULD HAVE KNOCKED! I'LL LEAVE IMMEDIATELY!"

This man proceeds to turn around, still covering his face and run into the wall a couple of times before lamenting and flailing out his hand to find the door. It would have been endearing and a little funny if you weren't mortified that he had seen your bits.

Does not uncover his eyes till he eventually makes it out of the building, bumping into every wall on his way out and a few people.

SANEMI

アイロギ@ilog_kmt on https://twiman.net/

Had been keeping tabs on you since he realized he had feelings. The one time he's not out on patrol his crow Sorai comes to tell him that you were hurt pretty bad in a fight with a demon.

Now his mind is racing with all the ways you could have been hurt. And he wasn't there to do anything about it?

Panic.

Doesn't even ask anyone where you are, just starts opening doors and slamming them back shut until he finds your room.

Recognized you immediately and was about to start berating you until you yelled at him to get out. Why? You're naked.

It didn't even click till your hands shot up to cover yourself. Now he's standing in the doorway frozen. His mouth is opening and closing while he fumbles over words to try and say something about the situation.

"Oh- I... I, uhh..." Sanemi's brain is having a hard time trying to come up with a reply. Out of sheer will, he backs out of the room sliding the door closed uncharacteristically slow behind him. He blinks a few times, then runs his hand down his face. He needs to go find a cave to crawl in and wilt away. There's no way he can recover from this, right?

He's not even three steps down the hallway before a loud thump can be heard. When you, fully dressed now, and the kakushi look to investigate the sound, Sanemi is face first on the floor completely out cold.

And now on top of the headache he has, his nose is bleeding.

OBANAI

TheCherryBlue on DeviantArt

Similar to Sanemi, he'd been keeping tabs on your wellness and whereabouts since the moment he realized he had feelings for you. He knew you were hurt before you even had the chance to send him a crow.

Almost feel bad for the demon he was in the middle of chasing down when he heard, he made quick work of it though. Now he can focus entirely on getting to you.

Had enough sense to not bust down the door, but was too worried to wait for a reply when he knocked and walked in. Was greeted with the sight of your semi-bare ass as you were trying to pull up your pants.

Thank the gods that he has a mask so you can't see how red his face got. He doesn't even mutter any words before he slams the door and practically rushes out of the building to crawl into a hole.

MITSURI

Had heard you were hurt and wanted to come check up on you. She didn't even let her crow finish speaking before she bolted for your location. It took her a moment, but as soon as she arrived at the safe house she asked all the kakushi which room you were staying in until one of them told her.

Normally she would knock on the door for a little forewarning that she was there, calling out your name in her normal sing song-y voice, but this time she made the grave error of nearly busting down the door.

Now she's standing there panting, frozen in place as she looks at you. It takes a few moments for her mind to catch up on what she just did.

Mortified she slams the door closed and starts blabbering out apologies faster than you can comprehend that she had even seen you naked.

"-I SWEAR I DIDN'T MEAN TO BUST IN LIKE THAT IT WAS AN ACCIDENT I WAS JUST SO WORRIED WHEN I HEARD YOU WERE HURT-"

The staff on the other end of the hall from her are gawking wondering how someone could turn that red and not pass out.

Probably one of the few times you've heard her get close to actually cursing, cause let's be honest this cinnamon roll can't curse even if she tries.

She kept that up until you finally opened the door to let her know she was alright. You're not even sure she saw anything with how quickly she burst in and left. Maybe a single butt cheek, but that was it.

SHINOBU

梅雨音 on Twitter

Had come back to the Butterfly mansion to a nightmare. Damn near every room and bed was filled with injured slayers, her poor staff plus the extra help that was called in rushing around trying to tend to everyone.

She was working on autopilot by the time she got to your room. Hadn't even noticed that the sign on the outside of the private room had been labeled as "Tended" when she walked in.

Knocked on the door and promptly entered without waiting for a reply, only looking up from her patient list in time to utter your name.

She freezes, uttering a small "Ah." She immediately sees you're already bandaged up

"I see you've already been seen. My apologies, I'll leave you be to finish getting dressed."

Tries to play it off as if that blush on her cheeks wasn't from seeing you naked. Promptly takes her leave, closing the door and checking for how she missed that mark on the door. Not entirely upset that she saw you, but wishes it was under better circumstances.

GIYUU

アイロギ@ilog_kmt on https://twiman.net/

Came in to get some rest after a particularly rough night slaying. Had been running himself into the dirt chasing after that one demon and was exhausted. He misheard that he was supposed to take the second room on the left, not the first.

Our Boy doesn't know what the hell to do. His brain turned off entirely when he took note of your naked form.

His face and neck are so red, he can't help but look cause holy shit you are so pretty... And bare... And he's been staring at you, hasn't he?

He has been, for a few minutes. Your startled squeal didn't do anything but make him look at you and now he's stuck buffering. There's got to be a way to get his attention to snap back to reality, right?

Throwing something while trying to cover your bits at the same time is hard, but it works. So much for Hashira's danger sense cause that pillow hit him smack dab in the face.

Smack! Giyuu's reaction to the pillow hitting his face was a bit slow. Instead of smacking it away, his hand only managed to grab it when it collided with his face. And now he's holding it there while that buffer wheel in his head finally loads. He was staring at you, while you were naked. He ignored your cries to leave the room and that was so bad of him to do. Now that his limbs are finally following orders again, he takes a step back to close the door and give you some proper privacy. Profusely muttering a muffled apology as he leaves.

Runs into you again in the morning and can't make eye contact. His face and neck are red again.

[skepsiss]

I’ve been thinking a lot about Eddie seeing the patches from his old vest onto a new less ruined one after I made that post about his PT—so my prompt for you is Steve helping Eddie resew his new vest (but he’s not really helping he’s just kind of there for kisses and emotional support hehe)

I took a little more into the "actually helping" realm, but it's still fluffy sweet. Other people can send me prrrommmppptts too! --

Eddie had never done something like this with someone else before. Sewing his ripped jeans, bags, and battle-vest had been a solo venture thus far, but it felt strangely intimate to be getting help with his new vest. The old one wasn't salvageable, but Eddie had managed to save some of the patches and pins to start again. This wasn't his first battle vest, and it probably wouldn't be the last, but he had hoped to hang onto his old denim. It wasn't to be though, so Eddie had thrifted a second (or third) hand denim jacket and ripped the sleeves off to start all over again.

"What's this one?" Steve asked, handing over a pin Eddie had gotten from hanging outside a metal show he couldn't get tickets for.

"Bad Brains," Eddie explained, taking the yellow button and running a thumb over the red lightning bolt that streaked across the front. "From New York, I think. I traded for it; no one really plays their stuff on the radio."

Steve nodded like he was going to retain any of that as Eddie debated over where to stick the pin. He settled on the front right pocket and then turned the vest over.

"You want to help sew the back patch?" Eddie asked, grabbing the swath of fabric he had cut from an old band-T. He hadn't been able to get the blood out of his old DIO patch, and while 'the bloody look' was cool, something about it made Eddie squirm. He didn't like that it was Steve's blood, or that the stain had made part of the album art unreadable.

So, DIO was retired, and Eddie instead centred his new Megadeth patch on the back of his vest.

Eddie handed over a needle and thread to Steve and then cut himself his own length. He strung the needle easily and tied it off before setting to work. Steve seemed to be taking his sweet time, and Eddie eventually glanced at him to see what the hold up was.

Steve was still gingerly trying to thread the needle, his brows pinched with frustration.

Eddie snorted lightly before turning the vest around so it was facing Steve.

"Here, you continue my line, and I'll finish this," Eddie teased gently, finding Steve's inability to thread a needle charming.

"Is it too late to say I've never done this before?" Steve asked, picking up the needle and thread Eddie had left behind and stabbing into the fabric.

"I can tell," Eddie chuckled, easily starting to work again. "You don't have to, you know. I don't mind just having some company."

"No, it's alright," Steve said slowly, obviously concentrating as he tried to stick the needle up through the patch. "What're boyfriend for?"

Eddie felt a syrupy smile spread across his face at Steve's words, his stomach tumbling around inside of him. He was still getting used to Steve calling them 'boyfriends' and Eddie couldn't help how giddy it made him each time. Sure, it had been nearly a month, but it still made Eddie feel like he was a blushing fifteen-year-old.

"If you insist… love," Eddie said, keeping his gaze down. He was trying out a new pet-name and he wasn't really sure if it was pushing things a bit too far. Love or My Love was such an intimate title, but Eddie had been thinking of it for a while now. He saw Steve pause at the use of the new nickname though, and waited for him to say something.

"Ow---Jesus," Steve said instead, and Eddie looked up to see him holding his hand up, a ruby-red bead of blood forming on his finger.

"Ah…" Eddie said lamely, smiling still as he reached over for Steve's hand. "Sticking yourself hurts."

"Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious," Steve bitched, letting Eddie take his hand.

"I thought you'd be a bit more durable… you know, with the whole… missing a chunk of your stomach, thing," Eddie teased gently, putting his lips to the wound on Steve's finger much the same way his mother would have when he was a child.

Steve didn't reply to Eddie's comment, instead sitting there quietly and letting Eddie suck on the tip of his finger.

"You want a band-aid?" Eddie asked, pulling back just a bit and then cheekily pressing his tongue against Steve's finger, holding it there with his mouth open.

"Yeah, a band-aid----what are you doing? Don't be weird," Steve chuckled, still not resisting Eddie's grip.

Eddie quirked a brow at him and pulled back, before huffing a laugh.

"Look who you're talking to. Weird is practically stamped on my forehead," he scolded, before licking Steve's finger again for good measure.

"Alright, alright, fair. We get it, Count Dracula, can we grab that band-aid?"

Eddie chuckled again and then scrambled to his feet, trotting off toward the bathroom, but not before turning around and sticking his fingers in front of his lips to replicate fangs.

"I vant---to suck yer ddiiiiccck," he teased, smiling wide when he got an honest belly laugh from Steve.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XVI)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here PART FOURTEEN is here PART FIFTEEN is here and this is sixteen *SixTeen theme plays*

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Martian Manhunter finds out that,yeah, dude, when your brain is missing chunks, you can't write or access data without the hardware to store it. My dude remembers nothing.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Days pass. Nights pass.

(He thinks.)

He gets a new room. This one has a window. He can’t stare at it all the time, but when he does, he can feel himself growing stronger. Steadier. The change in his body is borderline tangible.

If only it was physical. He’s still too weak to lift anything but his arms, and not even all the way. Moving his head is tiring. Lifting his head is impossible.

But he tries.

A lot.

The doctors and the lady have to make upset noises with him when he does, but he wants to be able to see everything they’re doing to him. So far it’s a lot of tubes and needles, but what if they become scalpels and clamps?

…Danny tries to assure himself that they probably won’t be.

But they might. Things could change.

And that eats at him constantly.

Someone puts a big circle on the wall in his room. It’s large. It’s a little fuzzy at its distance on the far wall, but it’s got little arms on it, and little dots in equal degrees around the circumference. It takes him almost two napping periods to realize that it’s a clock.  

Danny squints. He can...almost read analog. (Probably.) It sure doesn’t help that he has no idea when night is and when day is, though. He sleeps at one hour and wakes up at another, and the room will look entirely the same. Was it a few hours’ sleep, or a day’s? Was it longer? The world spins outside his window, big and blue, and he spins against it in a station on a lonely moon. There’s no way to tell.

Someone eventually notices that he’s bored, though, because he gets a television and a remote.

It’s a super thin television. At first, Danny spends time wondering why they put a screen with no system in his room, and then hour later the lady starts pressing buttons on the remote, and the screen lights up with a news program.

…The TV is too far away to see all that clearly. He can see some of it when he squints, but then all the colors turn lime green.

The banner on the bottom of the screen scrolls with headlines, and cool, it looks like they invented new letters while Danny was asleep. Fantastic. His head hurts from trying to squint to read, but it kind of looks like a kindergartener scribbled all over an otherwise serious news report.

Great. Now he’s getting a headache.

But the noise is…nice. It’s distracting. The news anchors chatter seriously as Danny gets yet another IV swapped out in his arm, and the heavily geared-up doctors have started telling Danny things he doesn’t like to listen to too much because if it is threats, great, he should ignore that; if it’s not threats, then, well, Danny’s bored of it all anyway.

“—Wel?”

Danny blinks. Well. That sounds like ‘Well’.

He shifts just enough to make eye contact. A doctor looks down at him from their place at his bedside. Their scrubs are kind of blue-green, with little flowers on the trim.

They have human eyes. The sight of soft, brown eyes probably ought to be reassuring, but they just make Danny more nervous.

“Eow eart wel?” They ask again, soft and slow. That middle bit sounds kind of like ‘art’. Ha. Old timey Shakespeare. ‘Art well,’ like ‘you art well—‘

Wait. Danny takes a deep breath. Blinks. His chest arcs up, just a little—just enough for the doctor to realize that Danny’s more than just looking, he’s paying attention. Are they asking him if he’s well?

Danny reflexively opens his mouth and flexes his throat, tries to answer—

Nope. Ow. The noise he makes sounds like the garbage disposal is backed up with angry blob ghosts. It hurts just to make. But the sound makes the doctor look at him; they see him.

“Inne cwic tima!” Danny hears, and then they’re jogging out of the room, and Danny is left alone. His throat hurts.

His head thumps back onto his pillow. The news program plays on. There’s a damaged city he’s never seen before on the news.

…And then the doctor comes back. Danny’s head is swimming, so he almost doesn’t notice their return, but they’re holding something, and that something has a sippy straw.

Danny is perfectly happy with a sippy straw.

The straw is put into his mouth. Danny goes sippy sippy.

…The water sloshes a little weirdly through his throat. Some of his tubes might not be where they ought to be, which is weird. Isn’t he supposed to be human right now? Or. Uh. Kind of human? Human equivalent? …Close enough…?

Danny drinks. When the pain in his throat goes to normal pain levels instead of new and angry pain levels, he lets go of the straw, and the doctor lets him.

Their fingers carefully brush Danny’s hair. Not very hard. A little too slowly. Just at the hairline. But it reminds Danny so much of sitting at home with Dad on the couch, home from school with a fever as Muppets tapes play in the background, that tears leak out of his busted eyes. The tears are probably just as green.

“Eow eart wel?” the doctor asks again. So gently. So careful.

“I’m tired,” Danny rasps.

The effort of speaking crashes into him in seconds. If things are happening around him, he doesn’t understand any of it. Nothing reaches him. He’s so tired.

He’s out before he knows it.

[ramblingoak]

Peonies

Mushy May in Lucifer's Hollow: Day 13 - I Just Wanted To Hear Your Voice

Mountain x Rain

This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. It's sort of like a Satanic version of a Hallmark town. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!

~ In Lucifer's Hollow Mountain has a little farm and sells flowers at the local farmer's market. Rain meets him there while selling his art. ~

Warnings: none, sfw, 570 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)

His phone started ringing as soon as Mountain threw the truck into park.

“Shouldn’t you be schmoozing the crowd right now, duckweed?”  He grabbed his wallet and the flowers before getting out.  The art gallery was across the street and Mountain took a fortifying breath before beginning to cross.  Fancy events weren’t his thing but he’d suffer through anything for Rain.  “You there?”

“Yeah.”  

Mountain frowned at Rain’s voice.  It sounded off, quiet and wavering.

“Everything ok?”  

“Sorry.  I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize for that.”  He paused outside the building, peering into the windows to try and find Rain amongst the crowd inside.  “Did something happen?”

“No, no, everything's ok.  I promise.”  Mountain heard Rain sigh and when he spoke again his voice was barely above a whisper.  “I wish you were here.”

The guilt was immediate, gripping his chest like a living thing.  Mountain had felt terrible about not being able to come with Rain.  The water ghoul had gotten invited to display his work during an art show in a nearby town, his very first art show, but Mountain had needed to stay behind.  Every year Lucifer’s Hollow had a huge community picnic and Mountain made more money that day then he did throughout the whole winter season.  It wasn’t something he could miss.

He had spent his entire day there, selling bouquets and plants nonstop.  Right up until Primo and Sunshine appeared, sending him home to change and get on the road.  Mountain hadn’t wanted to at first, not wanting them to miss out on spending time with their own families but his friends had been insistent.  He raced home to throw on the nicest jeans and flannel he had, quickly clipped some flowers and managed to make it to the art show right before it started.

“Yeah, about that,”  Mountain pulled open the door to the gallery and strode in, his eyes scanning the crowd.  It would probably be easier for Rain to find him amongst everyone.  Even without his horns Mountain was nearly a head taller than anyone else.  He was also sticking out like a sore thumb with how he was dressed but right now all he cared about was finding Rain.  “Where are you?”

“I’m at the gallery.”

“Where in the gallery?  I have a delivery for you.”

“What?”  Mountain grinned when he heard the sound of a metal door creaking open, realizing that Rain had probably been hiding in a bathroom stall.  “What kind of delivery?”

“Quit hiding and you’ll find out.”

Mountain ended the call, shoving his phone into his pocket and then fixing the bouquet up a bit.  He had chosen peonies since they symbolize good luck.  The only ones that were blooming were pink but it was the exact same pink that graced Rain’s cheeks when he made the water ghoul blush so they were perfect.

“Mountain?”  He turned at Rain’s hopeful voice and his arms were immediately full of his boyfriend.  Mountain buried his nose in Rain’s hair, inhaling his scent and then pressing as many kisses he could into the dark blue strands before Rain pulled away.  “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too, duckweed.”  Mountain handed Rain his flowers, pleased to see his cheeks brightening.  With his hands free he cradled those same cheeks in them, tilting Rain’s face so he could lean down and kiss him.  “Me too.” 

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

More fics in the Tales From Lucifer's Hollow masterpost

[sweetheartsaku]

—love and deepspace rafayel ; like a song ive never listened to but i know every lyric

a/n ; [fem!reader] @oracleofstars DAY 3 PROMPT AND FIRST LND POST WOOHOO doing this one bc im in band huhuhuhu :3c

larkspur !

concerts have always felt like a fever dream.

and the absolute tingle down your spine when you managed to swiftly choose and buy front-row tickets to THE 3VOLS concert?? your heart was basically beating out of your chest. to make your heart even tighter, a little pop-up had appeared on your laptop screen basically screaming at you: "DON'T LEAVE AFTER THE CONCERT ♡" in rafayel's iconic handwriting, with its own messy yet neat flare to it. one of your favourite members.

you wonder what a singer like him could possibly be doing after a concert as big as this. especially for a smaller artist like him, maybe he wanted to get to know what his fans are like? a social experime-

the cold breeze of your open window kisses your cheek causing you to snap out of your daze. your cream curtain had been blowing fresh air, it made you feel more alive, especially having it slightly open in the early mornings. the sunlight would bleed into the curtains onto your sheets and the early bustling of the beautiful city would awaken.

a small blue jay chirps outside, and your phone chimes reminding you to bring your purse.

you slot your gentle lip tint and wallet, your phone's little dangling charms clinking with all the other knick-knacks in your purse. and for the final touch, the little rafayel chibi keychain attached with a beaded charm you had bought by impulse (listener like artist?).

you connect your white headphones sprinkled in stickers, playing his latest track. one of your favourites from their most recent single, Tip Toe.

"even better to be experienced live" you smiled, as you tap on your bus card. you take a seat nearest in-between the back and the middle, claiming your seat closest to the window.

you had always been drawn to the more charismatic, charming and... magnetic members. that one, being rafayel.

before you even knew it, you had already arrived at the bar it was set, a very cozy and warm atmosphere fills the air. there were people on the stage, setting up xavier's iconic deep red bass and zayne's pearly keytar. the stage was littered in little bits of glitter, and warm fairy lights.

a shiver of your heart knew this was going to be a magical experience.

placing your headphones around the strap of our bag, you stand in awe at the centre of the audience area, eyes shimmering. bejewelled.

suddenly a dark, veronica lilac shade came into sight.

rafayel.

"RAFAYEL?????" your mind was running laps, taken aback by the sudden sight of the man of your dreams in front of you, setting up his own mic still looking back backstage presumably talking to staff.

he was dressed in an unbuttoned white polo with a loose black tie on top, paired with worn out denim jorts and a pair of thick socks with leathery brown dress shoes.

ohmygoodness.

they weren't wrong when they said he was prettier in real life. to make it even worse, you were one of the only people in that standing area.

"oh? you must be early. we still have an hour or so till' the show starts." he tilts his head towards you, looking back down at his mic

"e-eh?! you're talking to... me?!" you lock your eyes with his lilac ones, and gain composure.

"i mean... well yeah. i prefer to get to events early!!" you smile.

he looks back up, impressed by her gentle demeanour finding her cute being so shocked he was talking to her.

"well, that's good. and don't worry. i'm not some big celeb, just a guy who loves his band and has the eye for the arts, if i do say so myself. no need to be shy.", he chuckles.

oh wow. he's so much more charismatic in real life too. your ears become warm, thinking this is all a daze.

"well, i hope to see you in the crowd, hm?"

"yep! i'll be in the front row... chookas?"

"thank you. hope to see ya' after the show."

something about her... was different.

she was alluring. her soul... it was... beyond description. would he really believe in love at first sight after every other soul he's fallen for?

stealing glances at you throughout the concert, he notices your passionate aura and your shouts of the lyrics from the latest single, Tip Toe.

xavier finds himself noticing rafayel's eyes on you, he felt captivated, enchanted if you will, as he saw you sing to his music. xavier smiles to himself as he gets fired up for his solo part in the following 3 bars.

he had 3 songs left till he could finally interact with you again.

after the concert, 3VOLS bow and grin, feeling accomplished playing their latest single flawlessly. now, he just had to see if people payed attention to the pop up on the ticket site.

the small maintenance crew had efficiently set up the little tables filled with boxes, revealing little pouches containing little trinkets and freebies organised by the boys to express their gratitude for supporting and attending their concert and simply just enjoying their music. each little bag was organised by member, letting the people who had noticed the little pop up choose their favourite member's freebies.

you managed to get a early spot in the small crowd of people. peering over a shoulder, it seemed like they were having a small meet and greet.

ohmygoodness.

WERE TALKING TO THEM PERSONALLY AGAIN??? this cannot be real. PLEASE LET ME GET A TURN WITH RAFAYEL!!

the little crowd was progressively moving, now the time awaits on you to be able to have the opportunity to greet the first debuted member, xavier. he held hands with you, smiling as he directed his eyes towards rafayel.

DOES HE KNOW MY FAVOURITE IS RAFAYEL??

"oh, i noticed your little raf' keychain. its cute." he gleams. in reality, he knows rafayel has had an eye on you. little did you know, his eyes were still on you as you held hands with xavier.

you giggle, thanking him and interacting with zayne. you reach rafayel at the end of the table, and he automatically hands you the pouch of trinkets filled with little freebies chosen by rafayel himself.

"honestly, my eye for the arts makes my pouch one of the best decorated here." he playfully chuckles.

"hm... maybe. we'll see when i open it!"

"can't wait. did you enjoy the show?"

"oh my gosh of course!! my favourite had to be Tip toe. or Saturn, or WDYS... i can't choose!! oh and Over 85 was also re- oops. i just enjoyed the entire show! you did so well!!"

"i'm happy to hear that. the experience was magical for me too." he says as they exchange closed eye smiles.

you extend your hand and he laces his hands with yours, slightly cold fingertips sending a pang through your heart. you bid your goodbyes and thank you's, heart warm and mind at ease.

you exit the bar, taking in the deep night city air.

oh gosh. well that just happened.

you untie the little purple ribbon that embraced the little pouch. what came to your surprise, a little piece of paper had fallen out.

hm? what's thi-

you're cute. heres my number, ⌝

XXXX-XXX-XXX

i think i wanna get to know ya'.

⌞ xoxo, rafayel. ᡣ𐭩

larkspur, representing first love and sweet disposition.

your voice , ⌝

like a song i've never listened to

⌞ but i know every lyric.

[double-vandammage]

Title: Unexpected

Word count: 2,404

Rating: 18+

Ship: Bret Hart x Shawn Michaels

Tags/Warnings: Shawn POV, Drinking, Fighting (mentioned), Blood and Injury, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Quickie, Hand Jobs, Making out

Also posted to my a03: aa_beatrix

This is what happened when they buried the hatchet right? Right? 🙀

Timeline is 2010.

My sister @taydaq and I decided to do an Art Trade and her only request was Shawn and Bret on a counter top. I decided to write older Hartbreak and this was the result! I hope both her and you guys like it. I certainly had fun typing this out. 😜 It's mostly Bret telling Shawn to STFU.

I used the prompt: "do right people with wrong timing get a second chance?" from nightprompts. I really liked it and was going to use it for another fic I have in the works, but it ended up here. 😏

Tysm for reading as always! 💕

Fuck, he was too old for this shit. Bar fights were a younger man’s game. He wasn’t twenty something anymore. Shawn had taken his fair share of beatings inside and outside of the ring, but he couldn’t afford to take risks these days. Two guys had gotten into a heated argument and in a millisecond the first fist was thrown. In Shawn’s infinite wisdom, he thought he could break it up. Now he was left rummaging around his kitchen trying to locate bandages, an ice pack, and quite possibly another beer. He opened one of the drawers and felt around, pushing various junk aside. “Oh for Christ sake.” he muttered. Unexpectedly his cell rang. “Yeah?” he answered without a glance at the screen to see who was calling.

“Did you forget?” the voice on the other end asked. Shawn stopped shuffling through the drawer, squinting at the nearby calendar. “What?” He hadn’t a clue what he was supposed to do tonight. It was likely the blow to his head earlier. “Dammit Shawn, I waited for your skinny ass.” he barked through the phone. “Oh shit. Was that today?” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. “You’re the one who asked to meet Shawn. Are you home? I’m outside.” Shawn looked toward his front door, “You are? Um, okay yeah. I’ll be right there.” He hung up, abandoning his search for the bandaids. He walked to the door, smoothing his disheveled clothes and hair. He had no idea the current state of his appearance, but it would have to do.

He opened the door where Bret stood at the bottom of the steps, clearly irritated. “What the hell happened to you?” he asked, pocketing his own phone. “Heh, you should see the other guy.” he laughed, trying to play it cool. He hadn’t seen or talked to Bret much in the last few years. He wanted more than anything to be on good terms again and this was his chance to maybe repair the damage. Bret still had that same swagger and ruggedly handsome face. His hair had begun to show silver, but he managed to keep it long. “Oh don’t give me that. What really happened Shawn?” he demanded. “Alright, alright why don’t you start by coming in.” Shawn stood to the side of the doorway, motioning for Bret to enter.

Shawn led Bret to the kitchen, “I was trying to find something to patch myself up with and a nice cold beverage. Do you want one?” he asked, opening the fridge. “Sure.” Bret said, taking the offered beer. Shawn popped the caps off their drinks before hopping up to sit on his counter. He took a long swig of his beer, “How have you been Hitman?”. Bret stared at him puzzled. “Aren’t you a little old to be doing that?” he pointed. Shawn scanned his surroundings, “Doing what?” knowing exactly what Bret was referring to and began kicking his legs back and forth. “Jesus.” Bret muttered before taking a sip of his drink. “Don’t you want to take care of your face first?” he asked. “I can’t find the damn first aid kit.” he groaned. Bret wandered out of the kitchen, “Where’s the bathroom you idiot?” Bret said, setting down his beer and already starting down the hallway. “First door on your left.” Shawn shouted.

After a few minutes, Bret came back toting his first aid kit. “Most people keep these in their bathroom.” he stated. Shawn rolled his eyes. Bret placed the kit beside Shawn, opening it up. He surveyed Shawn’s face, taking in every cut and scrape. “Whoever did this sure banged you up.” he observed. “So what really happened?” Bret began taking out various supplies. Shawn watched as Bret meticulously sorted out different ointments and materials. “Well, not much to tell. Two dumb guys got into it and I tried to break it up.” Shawn shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I kinda forgot my age.” he smirked. Bret didn’t meet his gaze, but chuckled as he ripped open a packet of gauze and q-tips.

He poured some disinfectant on a gauze piece and moved into the space between Shawn’s legs. Shawn shifted nervously at the sudden proximity. Bret started at Shawn’s eyebrow, wiping gently at the open wound. Shawn sucked in his breath at the slight sting. “Sorry.” Bret said before moving down to his cheek. Shawn tried his best not to make eye contact as he helped to clean him up. How long had it been since he experienced a friendly touch from The Hitman? Bret then dabbed cautiously at Shawn’s split lip. When did it get so hot in here? Something in his stomach fluttered. It was a feeling he hadn’t remembered until now.

Bret threw the gauze into the trash bin and picked up a q-tip. He coated the q-tip with some of the ointment he had procured and delicately spread it across the cut on his eyebrow. He then carefully positioned a small bandaid over the cut before moving on to do the same to his battered cheek. “Ouch.” Shawn winced. He was definitely going to be sore tomorrow. “It’s already beginning to bruise, you got a plastic bag?” Bret asked as he opened the freezer door, pulling out an ice tray. “Yeah, bottom drawer.” Shawn replied, gesturing with his chin in the direction of the drawer. Bret filled the plastic baggie with ice and tied the end off to secure it. Shawn extended a hand to take it, but Bret was already back in his space to lightly press the cool plastic to the skin of his cheek.

Shawn tensed, his eyes meeting Bret’s. He wanted to say something witty or maybe just an asinine joke, but he was drawing a blank. Bret always had such an intense stare, but tonight he could see something soften in his eyes. “Feel okay?” Bret asked. Did he feel okay? Hell no. His face throbbed like a son of a bitch and for some reason Bret Hart was situated between his thighs icing his boo-boos. What the fuck was Bret doing here again? Shawn took in a deep breath, “Um, yeah, yeah I feel fine.” he answered, taking hold of the ice pack. Bret placed his fingers beneath Shawn’s chin, tilting his face upward to take one last observation. “Yep, you’re gonna be fine Michaels.” he decided confidently. “Thanks Doctor Hart.” Shawn teased. “Shut the fuck up.” Bret countered, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face.

For a minute they giggled like two kids, forgetting they barely tolerated each other. Bret composed himself first, his eyes falling to Shawn’s mouth. His hand was still under Shawn’s chin, his thumb tenderly caressing the split on his lower lip. Shawn felt his chest tighten and heartbeat quicken. The fluttering in his stomach returned with full force. There were times during their careers where Shawn felt similar knots in his heart toward Bret. These moments were triggered by a passing glance, a handshake, a hug after winning a tag match, and even during their most heated segments.

Shawn dropped the ice pack to the floor as he threw his arms around Bret, dragging him roughly into a kiss. The plastic bag unfurled, ice cubes scattering around the kitchen floor. Shawn’s lip stung as their mouths clashed together. Bret’s hands braced against the edge of the countertop in response to Shawn’s sudden advance. Shawn was entirely prepared for Bret to pull away and dismiss him altogether, instead Bret’s hands found their way to his waist and kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm. Shawn gasped as the slit on his bottom lip reopened, tasting beer mixed with the metallic flavor of his blood. “Sorry.” Bret mumbled against Shawn’s mouth.

Bret moved his hands down to grip Shawn’s thighs, tugging his body closer to ease him off the counter. Shawn held onto his shoulders as he slid off the countertop, pressing in closer to Bret. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this.” Shawn confessed as he tried to catch his breath between kisses. Bret pressed his forehead to Shawn’s, “Shit, me too. What the fuck?” he asked before meeting his lips again. Neither of them wanted to waste time and began to lower themselves to the kitchen floor. It wasn’t graceful by any means, Bret had a bad knee and Shawn’s back was basically shot. Bret fumbled backwards in order to catch Shawn before they both crashed onto the hard floor. Shawn struggled on top of Bret, straddling him to regain his composure. He leaned forward to bury his face in Bret’s chest, attempting to muffle the cackle threatening to escape.

Bret covered his own mouth as he tried his best not to completely lose it. “So the thing about our age…” he said. “Old fucks.” Shawn laughed into the fabric of Bret’s shirt. He rose up, to look at his long time rival. “I think I forgot why I called you here.” Bret’s hands returned to Shawn’s thighs, his thumbs lightly rubbing at his jeans. “You forgot, period.” he said, reminding him. Shawn really didn’t want to talk now that he had The Excellence of Execution under him, kissing him was much more ideal. He took a risk, kissing Bret’s forehead before running his lips down to the side of his neck. He felt Bret softly grip at his ponytail. Bret’s eyes closed, relaxing as Shawn sucked at the exposed skin of his throat.

How much time had they wasted being angry with each other when they could have been making out on a kitchen floor instead? Shawn moved back to Bret’s lips which parted slightly allowing his tongue to slip inside. He let his mind wander to when they were both at the height of their careers, Bret wearing his pink singlet and black tights. Tanned skin glistening with sweat after a match, the water in his hair drying and beginning to fluff wildly around his head. God damn he was sexy and at almost sixty years, he still was. He could feel his erection already straining his jeans, his hips grinding into Bret. Bret’s hands had roamed to cup at his ass, following the rhythm of Shawn rocking on top of him. Shawn grabbed at his hands, forcing them off him and pinning them above Bret’s head.

Bret didn’t seem to mind his taking control. In fact he appeared to welcome it, Bret’s own hard on trying to gain some friction against him. Shawn reached between them, undoing Bret’s belt and pants with practiced fingers. He wriggled his hand deftly inside, grasping Bret’s slick cock. Bret moaned into Shawn’s mouth at the touch. He kept one hand steady on Bret’s wrists, securing them above his head. “That’s it Hitman, that’s it.” Shawn coaxed, breaking apart from Bret’s lips. He stroked Bret briskly, low whines emitting from him. Shawn kissed Bret’s cheek before nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Bret tilted his head back, his hips rutting madly into Shawn’s palm. He lasted only a few seconds before he released a mangled cry as he came.

“Still so sensitive at this age, huh?” Shawn mewed, kissing Bret's ear and letting go of his wrists. Bret covered his flushed face with one hand, “Oh shut the fuck up Michaels.” he said, breaking into a smile. Shawn brought their mouths together again and Bret wrapped his arms around Shawn’s neck, deepening the kiss. Eventually they lost track of just how long they had spent rolling around on the floor playing tonsil tennis. Reluctantly they had managed to tear themselves away from each other and sat with their backs to the kitchen cupboards. Bret reached up to the counter and grabbed his now lukewarm beer, taking a long gulp. “I was not expecting that. Hell, I almost didn’t come.” he said. Shawn raised his eyebrows, “I beg to differ.” he snorted. “Once again, shut the fuck up Michaels.” Bret grinned.

They sat side by side, quietly finishing the rest of their beers. Shawn didn’t know where to begin. He wanted so badly to apologize for everything and anything, even stuff he wasn’t guilty of. “I’ve missed you.” he blurted instead. Bret set his now empty beer bottle down, glancing at Shawn. “Honestly…me too,” he admitted. Shawn felt his cheeks redden. He envisioned their reunion countless times, but he truly hadn’t anticipated Bret had missed him, not even a little bit. Shawn had always been reaching for Bret’s validation, but it always slipped through his fingers. “I never meant to push you away, but a part of me- a big part of me doesn’t regret a single thing. I also know in the last 12 years, a lot has changed. We’ve changed.” he said. Bret sighed heavily, nodding his head in agreement.

“We don’t need a lengthy drawn out conversation Bret. I know you want to bury the hatchet as much as I do.” Shawn said. He extended a hand out to Bret, waiting for a handshake. “Are you ready?” he asked. Bret appeared hesitant, but only for a second before joining their hands together. “Okay Shawn…okay.” Bret said. “Consider this matter closed, no takesies backsies.” Shawn said gleefully, dropping Bret’s hand. “You can’t be serious for a fucking minute can you?” Bret sneered, leaning over to shove his shoulder into Shawn’s. They remained seated on the kitchen floor cracking up all over again. “Stay in touch will ya?” Shawn said, tapping Bret’s shoe with his own. “I will.” Bret said.

They were both silent as Shawn walked Bret to the front door. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye, but knew he had to go. This was possibly the beginning of something new. It was also entirely likely they wouldn’t see each other again after tonight, maybe a call here and there. It happened all the time. Shawn opened the door, the cool air wafting inside. “Thanks again…for this…” he said, motioning to his face. “Yeah, no problem.” Bret said, bringing his hand up to faintly run his thumb along the cut on Shawn’s bottom lip again. “Take care of yourself.” Bret turned to go, hastily stepping out into the night. Shawn watched as Bret took off, that pesky pull in his chest emerging once more.

He closed the door gently and wondered if the right people with the wrong timing got a second chance.

[deepdreamnights]

Vidu and the Quest to Make More Toons

So, a ways back I talked about Minmax, but I've been trying out basically all the video generators looking for the tools I need, and low and behold this week I find out I've been accepted into the Vidu Artists program now, wherein I get credits and access to access their cooler features in in exchange for... talking about the tech and how I use it.

Well twist my arm. I shall endeavor to be objective and informative despite free stuff (a challenge my spirit needs practice withstanding if anyone else wishes to test me)

So let's talk Vidu.

(outside of being converted to gif, no animations in this post have been cut or edited)

Also, everyone say hi to Maureen the Lizard Queen, every hero needs an evil queen that really wants in his pteruges, and she's that for TyrannoMax.

Vidu's got a bit more oomph under the hood than MinMax (no shade to MinMax, they're brand new and very promising) and it's way too early to be picking winners when it comes to video.

Anyhow, basic features that are nice include the options to upload start and end frames, options for a 4 or 8 second duration (more about that later), and a cleanup/upscale. Credits line up more or less with seconds. 4 credits for a 4 second clip, 8 for an 8 second, and again at upscale. It's straightforward in a way a lot of services aren't.

Apetomic Pyle, done on the fast settings. (not to shabby still, and it gave him monkey legs which a lot of systems balk at)

If you're on the $30/mo tier, you can choose to do a double-cost "quality" over "speed" option. Thankfully, the artist program gets me access. Since there's not yet a seed option it's hard to do a direct comparison, but the quality is going to be a must if you're doing anything that looks like cel. Much cleaner, much smoother.

(4 and 8 second quality gens)

One of the nicest features is the character reference feature. Basically it's like Midjourney's --cref, but with a very strict adherence to character details.

The above images used reference shots of Maureen and Dr. Underfang, and it got the stripes on Underfang's tie right in basically every gen. That's a ridiculous level of character model adherence and, for my purposes, all but essential.

It did misinterpret Maureen's undertail coloration for a sort of fin or drape, but the shot I used was oddly cropped, and sometimes stuff like that happens with gen AI. Given my measuring stick for errors is the era of animation I'm emulating, whatever does slip through is only going to make it more authentic.

There is a limitation in that character-reference and text-only prompts default to 16:9 presently with no options to adjust, but some room to pan is always handy and most people are going to be outputting for phone and not outdated CRT televisions, so, it's understandable it'd be a lower priority feature for the devs.

Walk cycles! By Saint Eniac it's a miracle!

On the left we have one prompted with TyrannoMax's control art, and on the right we have one using that art as the starting frame (4 and 8 seconds, respectively).

Way More details under the fold.

Vidu likes a hefty prompt.

A lot of detail and evocative language helps, and older prompting tricks like mojo-jojoing important concepts are back. For the Max walk cycles above I used:

1986 vintage cel-shaded cartoon character walk cycle. The orange dinosaur-anthro wearing blue gladiator armor walks toward screen right, the camera tracks him, holding him in center-frame. He completes a full, brisk walk cycles from the side view. He walks boldly, back straight, head high, heroic. His tail sways behind him as he moves. The whole clip has the look and feel of vintage 1986 action adventure cel-animated cartoons. The animation quality is high, with flawless motion and anatomy. animated by Tokyo Movie Shinsha, studio Ghibli, don bluth. BluRay remaster. flat chroma-key green screen background

The potential for use with my Filmation-inspired technique is readily apparent. Both versions are on-model as much as any two shots in a 1980s action-figure shilling cartoon would be, some minor blurring to clean up in post but nothing serious. It should be pretty easy to extract the needed frames for looping and compositing.

Some Extra Points

There are the usual issues with hands, though more often than not it corrects my four-fingered anthros to having a human five-fingered hand. Buzby Spurlock animation was known for those kinds of inconsistencies, though. So an opening credits video is much less far off than it was at the last post.

It's also generally impressive how well it does with my dinosaur characters. Non-humanoid dinosaurs are difficult for most image generators, much less anthrosaurs in a vintage aesthetic. Vidu has yet to override the character art to give Underfang or Max the Jurassic Park style t-rex jaw, which is something both MJ and Dall-E 3 have trouble with.

Human characters like Kitty Concolor here, much more stable.

As always, clips are curated. I didn't choose my absolute best ones (gotta have something for the videos), and I'm working on a fun series of jank reels across all the generators.

[bardicious]

Star Trek TOS/SNW Prompt List

Okay, for now this is what I got, and I'm thinking maybe Ill try to make a list like this every month (???maybe?) to get my brain working. Might do another Garashir one tomorrow or after tomorrow. 🤔

Spirk are beamed down to a planet of giants

Spirk fixing a console problem from outside the Enterprise

Spirk feels their T'hy'la bond across the galaxy from each other. (Conceptualization of the T'hy'la)

Spock murders the giant Omni (The Price of Phoenix) in defense of an injured Jim.

The moment Spock mind melds with Jim (as Janice Lester) and the memories that pass between them.

Professor James T. Kirk, a stack of books with legs, teaching a class with Mitchell and Carol in attendance and Janice Lester as co-professor.

Jim takes a moment to mourn his brother, Sam, and his sister-in-law, Aurelian with his nephew Peter.

Jim fights the Gorn (SNW style)

Jim watches the Enterprise as it pierces through Tarsus IV's clouds. The crowds that are left stand in shock as well.

Trelane comes back, older (as teen personality vs TOS's young boy personality), a menace as ever. How will Spock and Kirk deal with him this time?

M'Benga in the middle of the Klingon War.

Doctor M'Benga and Doctor Chapel marry, post tmp. The Enterprise (TOS/SNW) are in attendance.

La'an mourns her Jim as the timeline switches back into place.

Omni (The Price of Phoenix) abducts Jim, on Vulcan as Spock prepares for Kolinahr hears Jim's distress. (pre-tmp) (yes, I am obsessed with this villain and the books)

Jim with his Tholian child, Bright Eyes, find themselves in Sulu's botanic lab.

Mirror Verse!Spirk meet over Pike's dead body, Uhura and Spock are aligned, and impressed with their new Captain.

The SNW crew ARE turned into bunnies, Jim, Spock, and Uhura have to care for them while they fix the problem

The Enterprise and Farragut crews team up to deal with a situation on a Greek themed planet. (SNW)

Harry Mudd and his double? is once again found doing something criminal and ridiculous. 

McSpirk finds themselves in the Mirror Verse's past, an earth where Khan wins, and successfully conquers the Earth (my headcanon on why the Mirror Verse exists).

Young Jim copes (or doesn't) with his first kills on Tarsus IV, while holding young Kevin Riley.

Uhura is planning a musical, sadly many of the bridge crew decline participation, surprisingly Spock does not! He plays the music. Their show becomes a yearly tradition.

Admiral Kirk sits alone in his home on Earth, and drinks. He thinks about Spock and the Enterprise and wonders how it all went wrong.

Yeoman Rand brings new Earth trends to the Enterprise, Uhura, Chapel, La'an, and Una all try something new.

Yeoman Rand and Captain Kirk fight a group of hostile aliens, their movements are in sync. (Yeoman Rand is Captain Kirk's protégée in this prompt)

Rand, Uhura, and Sulu attempt to talk to the local parliament comprised by what looks like sentient flowers.

Future!Spirk get time displaced and find themselves on the SNW Enterprise, not knowing whether they've stopped at an alternate universe, or the past, they keep quiet on the state of future affairs. Between a living Sam Kirk, and an uninjured Pike, both Jim and Spock are stressed.

Jim hesitates to fire at the dikironium cloud creature, and loses consciousness as the creature sets upon the Farragut.

Jim and Spock, and begrudgingly Droxine, catch the view from Stratos.

The enterprise picks up a child from a dying ship. The child with prophetic powers opens a popup storybook that involves the future of the enterprise, the art style depicts a style like the tos series, and two indistinct figures of a captain and his first officer. Chris Pike watches in trepidation as the story unfolds.

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

I was desperate for OC art and the wonderful @mimikusu agreed to an art trade. Here is the fic I wrote for Simon and Niko, based on this prompt they posted around Christmas last year. This was a treat to write and such a fun exchange. Thank you Mimi, and I hope you enjoy your fic!!

All The Way Home I'll Be Warm

“I don’t know why I put up with you, Nikolai,” Simon grumbled to himself as he threw his bags down in the hotel room he had just checked into. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, I swear.” He huffed to the window and glared at the snowflakes drifting down, scrubbing angrily at his dripping nose. The town below was already bustling with life as the Christmas market prepared to open. Colored lights, pine boughs, red and green decorations, and what looked like hundreds of merchant stalls spread out as far as the eye could see. Simon rubbed his eye, behind which a headache was already forming. He groaned, coughed, and tried to blow his nose, but it was stopped tight with congestion. 

“I hate these damn festivals,” Simon growled. “Why the hell Niko loves them so much I’ll never know. God, I wish I could cancel. I already feel like shit. But he would think I’m just making excuses. Ugh.”

He let his head fall into his hand as he continued to glare out the window. He missed Niko so much, and that was the only reason he was here right now. Simon had been traveling for work nearly all of December, and it seemed like he had hardly seen his boyfriend. In a few days they would leave to see their families for the holidays, so this was their only chance to spend time together. Niko had been begging to go to this damn Christmas market for months, and Simon had finally caved and booked the hotel and flights, though he made sure to complain the whole time about the expense, and how foolish these markets were. It made Niko so unbelievably happy, though, and that was what Simon wanted in the end. 

However, Simon hadn’t accounted for catching a cold at the end of his last business trip. The weeks of travel and little sleep had caught up with him, and this was shaping up to be a monster of a cold. He already had a sinus headache and a nasty sore throat, and the buzzing high up in his nose told him he would be sneezing his brains out in no time. Walking around outside in the cold, surrounded by thousands of people and bright lights and smells sounded like absolute hell. Yet Niko would be arriving any moment, ready for a weekend of Christmas cheer, and Simon couldn’t bear to disappoint him now, though he would rather do just about anything else. 

“God, I’m so tired,” Simon yawned, thinking of the exhausting night ahead. “I could fall asleep here on the floor. I truly don’t know how I’m going to survive tonight.” 

Yet he knew he would have to find a way. If nothing else, he wouldn’t let the expense of this trip be wasted by getting sick. This was Niko’s Christmas present, and he would get his money’s worth, everything else be damned. With a heavy sigh, Simon went to change out of his traveling clothes and into warm things suitable for a night outside. When he bent over his suitcase, though, the itch in his nose flared up into the need to sneeze. He just barely had time to press a tissue to his nose before: “HA’ISSHIEW! Hihh–HIPSHH! hhe–ESHIEW!! Ugh, that’s disgusting,” Simon groaned, trying not to look at the mess in the tissue. His nose wanted to keep sneezing, but he roughly pinched and rubbed it until the urge subsided. Just as he threw away the used square, his phone dinged with a text from Niko saying he was waiting in the lobby. Simon quickly finished changing, then went down to meet him, fiercely scrubbing at his nose to quell the itch that was already building up again. 

Niko was practically dancing with excitement in the lobby, dressed in a gaudy Christmas sweater and ridiculous hat that made him look adorable. 

“Oh Simon, it's so beautiful outside! I can’t wait for you to see it. It’s just magical! Oh I’m so happy to be here with you! Come on let’s go, there’s so much we have to see!”

“Don’t you want to drop your bag off in the room first?” Simon grunted, trying to hide the congestion and hoarseness in his voice.

“Oh, right. I guess we can do that really quickly. But let’s not waste any time!” Niko ran back up the stairs that Simon had just come down, not even waiting to hear the room number. With a tired groan, Simon turned to follow. It was going to be a long night.

~~~

It was exactly as miserable as Simon predicted. The cold air made his nose start dripping immediately, and it didn’t stop the whole night, so he was perpetually wiping his nose every time Niko’s back was turned, and his upper lip was raw and stinging in no time. The cold air seemed to pierce through all his layers, and he found himself shivering right away, though he kept his arms locked by his sides so Niko wouldn’t notice. The noise of the crowds and cheering and music made him want to curl up on the ground and cover his ears. The flashing, twinkling, spinning lights reflecting off of everything felt like daggers going through his eyes straight to his brain. Worst of all were the smells, though. Food, perfume, smoke, pine, candles, feathers, dust, animals, incense– everywhere he turned, something else was assaulting his nose and making his breath hitch into almost-sneezes every other moment. Many times the irritation was too much, and he was forced to stifle the resulting expulsion into his scarf, hoping Niko didn’t notice. If his partner was far enough away, Simon would allow himself to sneeze messily into the sleeve of his coat, hoping for some small relief, but with each sneeze he felt worse, not better. 

Predictably, Niko wanted to stop at nearly every booth, even if it was exactly the same as the five booths they had just visited. The postman delighted over every trinket and costume and overpriced souvenir as if he had never seen one like it, and Simon had to refrain from rolling his eyes constantly, mainly because rolling his eyes made his headache worse. The only thing that helped was the mulled wine and hot spiked cider. These were the only stalls Simon asked to stop at, and from the beginning, Niko was puzzled. 

“You’re having wine? I thought you said it gives you a bad hangover?”

“I’m trying to get into the holiday spirit like you’ve been insisting, Niko!” he snapped. “Tonight I’d like a hot drink, and I think wine sounds nice. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Not at all. I just think you’re very confusing sometimes,” Niko said, shaking his head with a smile. 

As soon as he would finish one mug, Simon would order another, desperate for the warmth in his hands and stomach, and he quickly lost count of how much he drank. It helped the shivering though, and numbed some of the other miseries, and he was glad for it. By the middle of the evening the exhaustion from travel and illness finally faded into comfortable drunkenness. He was happy enough to watch Niko run around and exclaim and delight over everything, like a butterfly between flowers. The postman spent far too much money, and soon he was laden down with shopping bags, but he said again and again that this was the perfect night, so Simon let him have his fun, just happy to be with him. In spite of himself, Simon had to admit the night was pretty, with the snow gently falling and the tangible Christmas cheer. He could see why some people enjoyed such things. 

As the evening waned, Simon’s nose couldn’t take any more stifling, or else he was too drunk to care anymore, so he began to sneeze more openly. At first Niko laughed and thought it was cute. 

“hihhgg’KIHPTCHoo! Kih’IHT’CHOO!”

“Bless you, Simon! Are you feeling alright? That’s your third sneeze in as many minutes,” Niko chuckled, running a thumb under his partner’s eye to catch a stray tear. 

“I’mb fine,” Simon croaked. “It’s all the incense and cold air. And someone is smoking hookah nearby I think.” He coughed to accentuate his point. 

“If you’re sure. Then let’s go over to the figurines instead to get away from the incense.”

Soon, though, Niko began to realize something was amiss. 

“EhhHEHTCHHoo! Ehh–EHHIXTCHOO!!”

“God, Simon, that sounded awful. Are you coming down with something? Your nose is as red as a Christmas bulb.”

“Maybe I’m allergic to Christmas. I told you coming here was a bad idea.”

“No one is allergic to Christmas, crabby grinch. There is a lot of smoke around here, though. Maybe that’s your trouble. Let’s go over here. I think you should eat something anyway, to go along with all the wine.” 

“If you insist, nurse,” Simon mumbled, unable to care about anything at this point. He allowed Niko to seat him at a filthy wooden table and place a huge plate of food in front of him, far more than he could ever eat even on his best day. He gamely munched on a few bites of everything, though he was the opposite of hungry. He was unable to taste anything, and had to take small bites because he couldn’t breathe through his nose, but seeing him eat made Niko smile, and that was all Simon cared about. 

While Simon was still “eating” (mostly just pushing the food around on his plate), Niko excused himself to the restroom. Simon immediately put down his fork and laid his head on his arms, telling himself he would rest for just a moment and give his aching eyes a break. 

He woke some time later to Niko shaking his shoulder. 

“Simon, dear, wake up. Poor thing, you really are exhausted aren’t you? Why didn’t you say something earlier? Come on, let’s go back to the hotel. We can always see more tomorrow.”

“If you’re sure,” Simon croaked. He wanted to tell Niko that they could stay out as long as he liked, but in truth he was near collapse and going back to the hotel to curl up in bed with his boyfriend was the only thing he wanted now. As they meandered their way back to the hotel through crowds of strangers, Niko slipped his hand into Simon’s. Because he needed the extra stability, and because no one was close enough to see them, for once Simon didn’t pull away. However, he was caught in an awkward situation, because just as their steps fell into sync, Simon knew he had to sneeze. His tissues were in the pocket of the hand holding Niko’s, so Simon was forced to press his palm to his nose to catch the messy fit that followed:

“Kihht’CHOO! Err’IZZSOO! hihh–HihhEHTCHOO! EHHTTCHOO!! Hhh– hehhh– HehhEHHTCHOOOO!!”

Simon hastily wiped his hand on his pants, thankful it was too dark to see much as he mumbled an apology to Niko. 

“Bless you, Simon! You need to get out of the night air, I think. I’m worried you’re coming down with something.” 

“I’ll be fine when we get back inside,” Simon said with a cough. His chest hurt from stifling so many sneezes all night, and coughing made it sear with pain, even though he hadn’t had a cigarette all night. 

“You’re taking a hot shower as well. I can feel you shivering,” Niko scolded. “You should have told me you were cold. You’re so stubborn.”

“Not as stubborn as you. Anyway, you were having fun. I didn’t want to spoil the evening.”

“As long as I’m with you, I don’t care what else we’re doing. So let’s get you warm and in bed where I can take care of you properly.”

“Is that a threat?” Simon asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. 

“Only if you want it to be,” Niko said with a wicked look of his own. 

As it turned out, Simon wasn’t up for anything after he took a shower. As soon as he stepped out of the hot water he started shivering and couldn’t stop, even when Niko wrapped him in a robe, then a blanket. He also had a splitting headache, no doubt the beginning of the wine hangover he sensed was coming. As he lay groaning in bed, with plenty of sniffling and coughing on top of it all, he felt Niko come to stand behind him and press a hand to his forehead. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a fever?” Niko tutted, placing a cold rag on Simon’s forehead before crawling in beside him and pulling the other man against his chest.

“I didn’t know I was,” Simon muttered. “It must have started recently. The cold from hell is turning into the flu I guess.” He felt warmer right away with Niko in the bed, and slowly his shivers subsided. He didn’t even realize he had accidentally admitted his illness until the other man replied: 

“I was a fool to let you stay out when I knew you were sick. You never sneeze so much unless you have a cold, and you were sneezing almost every minute. Not to mention all the wine. Though I think you’re already regretting that,” he added as Simon shifted the rag from his forehead to cover his eyes instead with a moan. 

“I was just trying to give you what you wanted. I don’t want to hear any more about it,” Simon snapped. “I’m only sorry this damn flu ruined our trip. All that time and money for nothing.” 

“Nothing is ruined,” Niko soothed, tucking the blanket closer around them both. “We’re still together aren’t we? All alone in a hotel room for three days. There’s nothing more I could hope for.”

“I’m going to get you sick for the holidays though,” Simon spat. “You’d be better off to leave now and save yourself.”

“I’m not going anywhere, crabby. Someone has to take care of you.” He began to run his fingers through Simon’s hair, and Simon relaxed, immediately forgetting what they were arguing about under the haze of fever, exhaustion and alcohol. His heavy eyes fell closed and in moments he was nearly asleep in Niko’s warm embrace. 

“That’s right, go to sleep. I’ll be right here,” Niko whispered. The last thing Simon felt before he slept was the press of gentle lips to his hair and a warm hand rubbing the aches from his chest. 

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hii!! Can u do tadc x reader who's mute?? (If ur too tired to do the whole cast u could just do jax and pomni) tyy!! :33

Pomni, Jax and Ragatha x mute!reader !

except ragatha has already been done before and im just linking her post in since its the same prompt eheheheh! think im going to answer just a few requests today; feeling a lil blugh since i didnt sleep well last night and i still got art stuff to do ... might continue my metalocalypse rewatch binge too

POMNI:

i think it would take her a moment to grow accustomed to your muteness. sometimes, at least in the beginning, she waits for you to speak before giving a soft "oh".. she doesnt mean to be malicious or mean, its all a matter of her getting used to things! add in that she has other things going on in regards to being thrusted into this new environment..! i think she would carry around a notepad and pen in her jesters hat for you to use when speaking to her, though i do think she is trying to learn sign language so you guys can more easily communicate... me thinks she might be a slower learner, though, mostly because as mentioned before theres just so much going on for her..! definitely very sweet about it though and tries to speak up if people are ignoring you in a conversation; though its a little meek and awkward she doesnt really give up on making sure you're heard

RAGATHA:

you can find her part here! funny enough this is my first TADC post (the random thing doesnt count)

JAX:

definitely a faster learner of sign language if thats your main means of communicating with other people. you guys have probably gotten into at least one argument before and yes hes the type to turn the lights off so he cant see your signing or your writing. is it petty? yes, but i can definitely see jax doing that. kind of reminds me of that one post/meme where op talks about how a deaf kid took their ice cream and when they signed to the kid. the kid just. closed their eyes. probably closes his eyes when youre trying to scold him for his trickster behavior LMAO. despite that, i think similar to pomni hes going to make sure no one talks over you, but unlike pomni hes not awkward about it. actually hes going to be obnoxious about it and may or may not unintentionally put you on the spot and embarrass you... or maybe he did that on purpose, knowing jax.. doesnt use your muteness against you though, in regards to pranks and his general assholery. like outside of him being kind of an ass when you guys are arguing, hes not going to do anything that could harm you. jax is an asshole but hes not a monster

[entomolog-t]

Ento's MasterPost

Howdy Everyone! Here's my Big Post of all projects past present and future. You can find my writing (as well as smaller prompts and blurbs) under the tag EntoWrites, as well as my art under the tag EntoDraws.

Commissions are currently OPEN (See my commission post for more details)

I'm always excited to talk about my OCs and stories (as well as just interact in general) so feel free to send asks and dms at your leisure! (I will cry with joy)

Below are my individual stories. Each title will bring you to that particular story's MasterPost, associated art, and character information.

Bite Me (Ongoing)

June wakes up to find a vampire has broken into her room- while she hadn't been under the impression vampires existed in the first place, she certainly hadn't envisioned them as diminutive human-like parasites with strangely alluring voices...

Tags: BiteMe

AUs:

Paranormal!Au (coming soon)

Mer!Au (coming soon)

The Shadow We Cast (Ongoing)

Mark can't seem to catch a break in life until life forces a break on him. Having recently moved into the middle of absolutely nowhere in some obscure little Northern town he soon finds out that he's not alone in his new home after a run in with a mysterious little wildcard of a man named Sal.

The spider loving little man is strong, fearless, and full of life- everything Mark wishes he could become (though he could do without the spiders). Yet Sal has his own personal battles he's facing.

Tags: The Shadow We Cast, TSWC

AUs:

INSTAЯ (Ongoing)

Dawn Delacroix lives alone with her dog in the boonies on a large property surrounded by woods, so when she spies something walking towards her house one cold October night she immediately knows something isn't right.

There's a creature outside... and it's getting closer.

Tags: INSTAЯ

AUs:

Finding Strength (Ongoing)

Tamius has life made. The human of the house is a Borrower's dream! Forgetful, slow, and regularly out of the house. Life couldn't be any easier- that is until a series of snap decisions leaves him tagging along with her to her regular 4:00 pm outing and he has some big revelations.

Tags: Finding Strength, FS

AUs: Fantasy!Au (Coming Soon)

Men are from Mars (Coming Soon)

One Shots

In Need of Support

[sterekmylove]

Red Fabric {Young Sterek}

Your prompt: Person B lends their sweater to Person A. When Person A is home, they realize they still have Person B's sweater and find Person B's iPod. Out of curiosity, Person A looks through Person B's music and finds a playlist titled with Person A's name.

P: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski

Age: 18 & 19

A/N: I forgot to post it here.

—

“Dude… just take the damn sweater! Stop being stubborn” Stiles groans as he tried to shove his sweater into Derek's hands, the sick omega

Refusing his friend's request. They've been repeating this little argument since Derek first walked into History, taking a seat next to Stiles and dropping his head onto the table ignoring Mr. Harris words to pick up his head, and that it wasn't nap time. Derek hadn't picked up his head, instead, he made a sound that nearly sounded like a growl. The sound even caught Scott's attention, looking away from Allison to look toward the Omega who sat one row ahead. Stiles kept his eyes down on his notations scribbling away— adding in extra for Derek later. He kept his voice low so Mr. Harris didn't try to give him detention for the simple fact that he spoke.

“Are you okay?” the lanky teenager asked in a low voice. Derek had hummed in response. Not good enough.

“Der” Stiles tried again.

Derek let out a raspy breath shifting his head against the desk to peak towards Stiles, the brunette doing the same— side-eyeing the werewolf. The omega looked like hell, his tan skin was paler— Stiles couldn't even blame that on the season— the cool air in the room being a reminder of the freezing cold outside that is known as winter.

“ ‘mm fine” he mumbles in response.

Stiles snorts, keeping his eyes on the paper. Bullshit.

“Something funny Mr. Stilinski?” Mr. Harris questions

Stiles glanced up at the teacher with a pen in his mouth— when did he get it there? Stiles glances around the room to see everyone looking at him— facing his attention back on the teacher.

“Uh—” the pen drops from his mouth, making a sound against the table— he looks down then back up real quick to do a one-over when his brain comes to a halt.

“Um… no?”

“Then why did you snort?”

“Cause I farted— what else?” He asked his expression mocking a duh look mixed with ‘are you stupid?’ Look.

Derek made a low strangled sound. Scott covered his mouth while ducking his head. Stiles twisted in his seat to turn and look at Allison who was sitting with Scott and behind Stiles.

“Forgive me Ms. Argent for passing gas, is that nose okay?” Stiles asks dramatically.

Allison pressed her lips together trying her best to hide her smile as she just nodded at Stiles. Stiles smiles brightly, turning back to the teacher. Mr. Harris stares at Stiles then sighs— deciding not to argue with the lanky boy today.

For once.

Now, back to what’s wrong with the sourwolf.

Stiles found out in second period Art what was wrong with his friend.

“Sick? you’re sick. How the—.”

“Breathe Bambi,” Derek declared as his hand moved in strokes on the canvas.

Stiles takes a second or two to breathe and then speak.

“I thought werewolves couldn't get sick?”

“Bitten one can't, born can. We're still Humans Stiles, just grow extra hair on a full moon” Derek spoke in a low tone.

Was— did he— did Derek unintentionally make a joke to Stiles on the last part? nevermind that he'll go back to that later.

“But how— dude are you—”

“Stiles what are you—” The back of Stiles's hand touches the omega's cheek, Derek's droopy eyes widening a bit at the contact of Stiles's cool skin against his face. Before the sick wolf can even consider leaning into the touch of Stiles' warmth— which he will blame on his sickness— Stiles pulls away.

“Dude— you're cold, you, Derek Hale who is usually built like a real-life heater are cold!” Stiles stresses out, Derek didn't need to look at the lanky teen to see what type of face he was making.

“Take my—”

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

“Derek—”

“Stiles.”

“My sweater is better!”

“No, I'm already wearing my leather jacket” Derek declines, pushing down the feeling of accepting the human request— the excuse of Derek wearing his close friend's sweater and smelling his scent for the rest of the day was tempting– but he wasn't going to. He was sick, those little ticks were all a part of his cold.

The want to lean into the cool touch, the want to accept the sweater, the want to be even closer to Stiles and bury his face deep into his friend's neck and take in his scent till his mind is dizzy with the smell of Stiles.

Roasted hazelnuts with the lingering smell of black coffee and medication—Adderall.

“And clearly it's not keeping you warm enough if you caught a cold Derek”

—

Which leads to now— they were in third-period gym playing dodgeball, Derek weak on his feet— stubborn and very human Stiles still arguing with the Hale boy over his sweater as balls were being thrown at them.

“Come on—“

“Duck!”

Stiles dodges barely fast enough from the flying ball that hit the wall hard, Derek glares at the culprit that threw the ball— Tyler Johnson.

“Johnson!” He barks picking up one of the red balls that landed by his feet throwing it towards the brunette hitting him in the stomach making the other teen wheeze sinking to his feet, Stiles winches at the site.

“Derek—.” Derek grabs Stiles by the front of his shirt yanking him towards himself— making the lanky human not get hit by a ball.

“Stiles focus—.”

“Take my sweater and I will!”

“Stiles it’s cold outside-.”

“I’ll wear your leather jacket— just take the damn sweater you stubborn—.”

Bonk!

A ball gently hits Stiles in the head, the pale teen blinks a couple of times. Staring— staring at Derek who had pulled him close to him with a ball in his hand and with enough force hit him in the forehead with it. Stiles looked at the omega as if he committed a crime, his mouth opening and closing— Derek catching a ball before it hit him in the face.

“Did you—“

Derek gives him the famous Hale smirk.

“Got to sit down Stilinski”

Stiles gasp, then looked over to Scott who just shrugged his shoulders.

“You little…”

“Go.”

Was that even allowed!?.

—

“I look stupid” Derek mumbled as he tugged at the red fabric that hugged his body, Stiles' sweater was loose but also fitted tight around the werewolf’s sick frame. He wore the cuffs of the sleeves over his palms looking down as the two walked down the hall— Stiles fixing Derek’s leather jacket around his body, patting the pockets filling his curiosity that can sometimes be dangerous.

“You look nice in red sourwolf I don’t see the reason to complain” Stiles says in a tone that can let anyone know he’s not paying attention to his words.

“That’s not— not that pocket Stiles”

Stiles stops his hand barely above the chest pocket looking at Derek while they walked down the hallway as the last bell rang.

“What’s in it?”

“Just don’t touch it”

Stiles nods moving his hand away shoving them in the pockets walking in silence.

—

Tags: @cowandcalf