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tonightsyanderes · 6 months ago

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Yandere Beastman

•Tiger Beastman•

TW: death(not reader), non-con, stalking, I am basing this off of the actual mating habits of a tiger. blood. injury to reader.

Don't like it or if these trigger you please don't read and take care of your mental health. I do NOT support or want anyone in this kind of relationship they are highly toxic and unsafe. I write the stories for entertainment purposes only.

There are not a lot of "Yandere tendencies" in this fic. Just a lot of fucked up stuff.....

Please Enjoy~

The hectic life you had before would be calm compared to the life you have now. Trying to keep yourself level-headed while the world changes around you is hard and mentally draining.

‘Note to self never trust someone that promises it’s a time machine that you’re stepping into. Even if they are… were your best friend.’ You mumble to yourself bitterly about how unfair it was to be stuck somewhere or when with nothing to help you. You heard a rustling of leaves behind you. The wind blew green leaves in your face as the rustling got louder.

You could hear the thud of hooves drawing closer to you. You quickly wiped your face clean and moved behind a tree to hide from whatever was coming. Heartbeat ringing in your ears you try to calm down by breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth. You try not to hold your breath until it gets closer. The thudding grew louder, shaking the ground. A figure ran past you, too quick to see what it was. Two more things ran by the tree you hid behind, you covered your mouth with your hand to muffle your breathing. One of them had antlers… with ears like a deer. Their legs were like a deer too… and with hooves! Where the hell are you?!?

You heard a deep growl in front of the tree. A shrill scream followed by a loud crunch was mere feet from you. Your body couldn’t move. You tried to back away, tried to uncover your mouth, tried anything! But your body refused to listen… The crunching sound was like breaking celery, a crisp crack/crunch. It stopped and you could hear the chewing of something wet and tough. One of those things must have been caught. Whatever caught it could find you too… would it eat you too? You could imagine the way it would tear into you, it would eat you alive. It ate whatever that thing was alive so you could only imagine what you would see as it tears into your stomach as the life drained away from you. The last thing you would remember would be that horrifying scene.

‘I need to get out of here… quietly’ You looked around trying to make less noise than the eating sounds. You tried to turn around when the wind picked up again. Except this time you were upwind from the beast. The sound stopped… not just the eating sounds, all the sounds around you… the birds let long ago, the wind stopped whistling, the river stopped bubbling, and the far-off thudding of hooves was no longer heard. The beating of your heart quicked, it hurt your chest. The chest that you were sure would be ripped open in mere seconds.

Another growl and you couldn't move again. ‘Not this shit again! I need out of here!!’ Your eyes were restless and you looked around wildly. You can’t hear the soft thuds headed to the tree you hid behind. The way the beast made slow, calculating movements was a sign that it was an apex predator. Nothing scared it. A claw of a tiger stepped out from the other side. It was massive, about the size of your head. You imagined it slicing through your stomach.

Its head followed soon after, traces of its meal all over its face. It looks almost… human. It, no He turned towards you, and you backed away as his whole body came into view. His face and torso were more human but the rest was like a tiger. His arms and legs were tiger limbs. He had an orange and black tail. Tiger ears on top of his head. He had no clothes on. Blood was caked on him everywhere. The fur on his body became clumped together and dyed red. He continued to growl at you. His teeth were long and the tips were sharp. You backed away from him as much as you could. He glared at you and stepped closer.

“Get back! I taste bad I promise!” You shout out of fear. In your right mind, you would not be saying something like that. He stopped growling and stayed still. Just looking at you, it was worse than him moving. Staying still made him unpredictable. You crawled away quickly. He didn’t move just stared at you. You stood up slowly and continued to walk backward until you had a few trees between you and him. You sprinted away from the area and towards the sound of the river.

You made a small shelter out of fallen branches that leaned against a tree. The river is a small walk from the shelter, fishing got easier with time and practice. You had no idea how to start a fire without a lighter so you go cold most nights. You have seen a few… bloody leftovers of other beasts that left you berries or other foods around your little camp.

You were trying to catch some fish with your makeshift net. A long-sleeved t-shirt with a stick in the shape of a Y can only do so much. You were so busy focusing on fishing that you didn’t hear the noises behind you. Suddenly you were pushed face-first into the ground. A growl from whatever was holding you made you freeze. It sounded so familiar… so overly terrifying.

This was it you are going to die… you’re going to be eaten alive by that man-beast thing! A bite on the back of your neck sent pain down your spine. A scream erupted from your mouth as you kicked and grabbed at it from behind you. You heard a chuckle behind you. The claws on the massive paws tore through your clothes with ease. The teeth on the back of your neck never let up. Something wet, slime-y, and hard was pressed into your thighs. He used one hand to bring your hips up, the claws dug into your skin and drew blood. His penis was barbed on one side and painful when he entered you with no preparation. Another scream erupted from you, you tried to fight back even more. Nothing worked as he kept going until he filled you to the brim with his cum. You cried until you passed out, you’d rather be asleep when you die than awake.

You woke up in a den with the tiger beast beside you. A dead deer beast was in front of him, he was already eating it. You whimpered and he looked over at you. He tore off a leg and tried to hand it to you. You gagged as the limb dripped blood all over the ground. He huffed and walked over to you wagging it in your face. You shook your head and started to kick at him when he came too close. He smirked and showed off his phallus it was hard and pink.

“No! Not again! Fuck you!” You shouted as he got even closer not bothered by your attempts to hurt him. He opened his mouth his teeth on full display.

“Again! You!” He mimicked your voice almost perfectly. ‘What the hell… how the fuck…’ You couldn’t believe this…

“Mine… mate… season… you fight… you mate now.” He said in broken words. “Kill… others… need… me not… them.” He growled as he walked towards you. Your vision goes black as you pass out from fear. ‘Will I see the light of day again?...’

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #male yandere x reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere smut #tw: noncon #monster fucker #monster #monster x reader

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ae-neon · 10 months ago

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Hi there! I've just discovered you work "The House of Mirrors" and I am loving your writing, and the idea of Nesta x Rhys. May I ask what draws you towards the Rhysta ship?

I've found it to be a really intriguing ship when looked into with insight, and it's sad to see that it's immediately dismissed as "oh Nesta will go Amarantha on Rhys, it will be another abusive relationship" etc

Sorry for not answering this ask sooner, I am on mobile 99.99% of the time and my asks always get buried for some reason. Also, my grammar and language spelling will be inconsistent, Tumblr keeps correcting my spelling to American EN

and it's sad to see that it's immediately dismissed as "oh Nesta will go Amarantha on Rhys, it will be another abusive relationship" etc

honestly not even gonna touch on this because whoever thinks that is so set on being against this pair that they've clearly deconstructed parts of their brain. No one is forcing them to ship it and they're going as far as to imply SA?? not someone to be entertained or taken seriously

so why Rhysta? hmm, I think I've posted about it somewhere, but my tagging is so terrible I wouldn't be surprised if it was lost forever

Firstly, I'm gonna be transparent in just preferring Nesta as a character to Feyre.

Feyre isn't terrible (most of the time) but she's pretty generic and inconsistent (and wildly offensive sometimes) but tbh, for the most part, I'm not anti-Feyre, just anti the way sjm uses her

Honestly, I would have preferred to read an ACOSF that centered around Feyre being HL, becoming a Valkyrie, doing the blood rite etc. than what we got in canon.

all this to say that even though I am a Nesta fan, my interest in this ship isn't rooted in hating Feyre

let's get into it

the first reasons are things that I see as tying Nesta and Rhys together so things like:

I prefer likeness in pairs as opposed to opposites. and funnily enough, 'like calls to like' is a sort of rule in the magic system. despite how I might disagree with what's given in canon, when we are first introduced to Rhysand, we're given the impression of someone who is more brains than brawn - and Nesta is characterised in the same way certain parts of the writing reflect a connection: Night and Death, both seem to have the most direct personal conflict with the KoH, both are willing to sacrifice their bodies for those they want to protect things like this are common in other characters too, but not in the same way. Feyre is also a character that sacrifices herself for other, and so is Cassian, but the latter two have a streak of selflessness to them. they would die for people they don't know. Rhysand and Nesta's brand of sacrifice is much more personal Nesta having unique mind powers, a strong connection to Illyria and it's magic and the magic in the NC (she literally makes his childhood home come to life and magic tied to the land is a trait of High Lord/Lady magic) it would have been poetic if they belonged to Feyre to show fate/the mating bond always meant for her to be with Rhys. But they belong to Nesta. Why I also just think Nesta's character and temperament are more suited to politics. She's stubborn, but she's also the type of person who listens and learns and judges people off their character rather than if they are 'on her side' Things like her being more mature and raised to thrive somewhere like the Hewn City add to this

the second reasons are reasons I dislike the canon pairings that would be either not applicable or severely lessened in rhysta

I am not a fan of Hades x Persephone (F.eysand) I despise The Taming of the Shrew (N.essian) Enemies to Lovers is only real when they can hate each other equally, a big power imbalance turns one party into a victim The power imbalance cannot be solved by making a 19 y.o with ptsd an overpowered fae with no experience or agency but, for example, if Rhys had to contend with a stubborn and somewhat uncooperative human - in a land he can't waltz around in, with a mind he can't enter and being the party that needs her help - suddenly there's a much more even playing field. Cassian is pushy and flirty in a way that involves a lot of physical intimidation and boundary crossing, that shit is not cute. in fact, in the canon Wings and Ember excerpt, Cassian crowding Nesta against the fireplace makes her think of Tomas Mandray, the man who almost assaulted her. there are ways around it like being close cause you're dancing or sparing but Nesta isn't a fighter (acosf can fuck off) and Cassian doesn't know how to dance. they're completely mismatched Feyre is naive and insecure in a way that makes her easy to manipulate. like I know a lot of people find the CoN scene sexy but it had been weeks, maybe two or three months, since she'd non-consensually been in that position for real UtM. Nesta might have been convinced to put on a show by dancing or wearing something a little provocative by her standards but that wouldnt have been something that directly mirrored a trauma of hers. I think, politically the handling of the Summer Court sets the tone for the abject failure of F.eysand as a political team. Nesta would have trusted Tarquin. She handled herself well (at the cost of her pride) at the High Lord's meeting.

im sure there's more

but again, this isnt really at the cost of Feyre being the protagonist especially of book1, there are things Feyre does that I don't think Nesta could or would. just that book2 might have had more povs or something

this also takes the approach of Rhys being a slightly different character than in canon, one more like what we were promised and one slightly more suited to Nesta

but that's literally what love interest characters are. they aren't supposed to become the centre around which the protagonist and plot now revolve

anyways,

I'm so glad you read and enjoyed House of Mirrors!!! please don't be shy to drop me another ask

#long ramble #anon ask #rhysta

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livebloggingmydescentintomadness · 1 year ago

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Recently I broke up with someone who was a mean drunk. In one of our last fights, when he was blacked out, he called all my paintings bullshit and damaged one of them. I think I can fix it but every time I look at it I think of him, and I'm questioning whether I have any talent. What if everyone is just being nice and they all think my art is bullshit?

i'm so sorry, sweetheart, that was an incredibly vindictive and hurtful thing for him to do and it's totally understandable that it caused you a lot of pain. i'm really proud of you for breaking up with him.

i think there's a lot of things i could say here about trusting your friends and not letting this one asshole ruin everything for you, but i think you're probably smart enough to expect me to say that, so i'm going to try saying something else.

first of all, since the awful thought is in your head, let's entertain the idea for a second - let's say your art IS bullshit and other people don't actually like it.

do YOU like your art? does your art make YOU happy?

you're not a renaissance artist drawing to please your patron, you're not painting portraits for a royal family - you're making YOUR art for YOU. do you enjoy making your art? do feel pride when you complete a piece and see the finished work in your hands? does it make you happy to share it with other people and to dream about the next thing you want to work on? does it feel fulfilling and satisfying to look at your work and know that you MADE that?

if all that's true, then it wouldn't actually matter if your art was "bullshit", because humans don't just make art for other people to admire. the creative process itself is valuable and worth doing, no matter how "ugly" the result.

then there's the fact that "good art" is wildly subjective. let me tell you a secret: i don't really like van gogh's work. i mean, starry night is cool, but every other painting of his i've seen, i just don't really get the hype. i think a lot of them are kind of ugly. i sure as FUCK don't get rothko. practically every day i see a drawing on tumblr with like 10k notes and, to be frank, i think it's hideous. then i see a gorgeous drawing with 200 notes and i'm like, why doesn't this have 10k notes?? i can't watch the spiderverse movies because, even though it's technically genius, the jerky art style really bothers me.

even if 10k people hated your art, 10k more would love it. and even if your closest friend didn't like it, that could simply be because it doesn't match their personal taste.

and lastly... ask yourself if you actually WANT a mean, vindictive drunk to like your art. i mean, i'm pretty proud of my writing, but i'm also pretty proud of who would hate my writing. i don't want miserable assholes to enjoy my craft. a person who hurts other people doesn't like what i do? good. fucking choke on it.

i know, i do, that validation means so much to creators. i know that getting comments and kudos on my fic is a thrill, and makes me more excited to write. i haven't gotten any hate, thank goodness, but i'm sure it'd be really upsetting if i did. and yet, i know that i have to write for me, and that outside validation, while nice, can't be the pillar that props up your creative process. it's too unstable, too easily knocked out from under you.

fuck that guy. your art is yours, and it will only improve the more you do it. create for spite, create for grief, create for love, create for hope. create because you are an artist, and no one gets to take that away from you.

#advice #anonymous #ask

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doyouknowhowtowaltz · 2 years ago

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35?

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

Earlier this year, I was on some considerable pain medication, and I had incredibly vivid dreams? Hallucinations? I became convinced I had written, edited, and published a whole 53k three-shot fic. I have memories of the whole process. They were so vivid, that to this day I occasionally look through the Dumb Gay Eldritch Psychopomps tag on Ao3 expecting to find it, as if maybe I only hallucinated writing it, maybe someone else wrote it and I read it and imagined having made it myself.

I'm not ever going to write it, because I went through the whole process once already, and have nothing to show for it, but I've wanted to relay the general plot since I realized I didn't actually write this fic.

(A warning for anyone about to click Read More, bellow is almost 4k of a summary)

The story begins with the Beast, who is a human, and an astronaut, stationed on the first ever base on mars, however he is eerily alone. It is revealed, slowly over the course of the first chapter, that about five years ago, something began to happen on earth.

Beast (Whose first name I cannot recall, but his last name was Dagenhart for the purposes of this fic.) and the other original twelve astronauts stationed with him, didn't really know what was happening. The rotating team on earth who radioed in with them couldn't explain what was happening, only that it was bad, but far away, on the other side of the globe, before suddenly one day they were cut off. The astronauts then assume, obviously, that whatever it was reached them too.

After that, the timeline gets a little fuzzy, because Beast doesn't dwell on the memories, making the narrator wildly unreliable, but somewhere along the line, the resource shipment they're due fails to come, and one of the team members on mars is killed and eaten for the rest to survive, because the life support cannot sustain them all. Eventually one by one, the rest of the team is killed off, but it's unclear after the first few whether this was done out of necessity, or if the isolation got to them, it's not even very clear if this is a thing that was voted and decided on, or if Beast just murdered and devoured as he pleased and covered his tracks to the rest of the team. It definitely wasn't necessary by the last one, because the life support and food growing resources have been supporting Beast for two years and could have supported another two or three people comfortably.

This is all revealed casually, in asides of Beast's internal monologue as he goes about his daily habits, tending to life support, taking readings, recording data, and entertaining himself.

Beast speculates, as his day draws to a close, that there might be more people left on mars than on Earth, and is really too amused by that to possibly be healthy. It's clear he's content, but definitely not normal, but it's not very clear if he was already off before he came to mars.

We follow him for another day, before suddenly, in the middle of one of his routines, the radio crackles to life with a voice on the other end. Beast is stunned, so stunned he almost doesn't make it to the microphone in time. The voice on the other end seems nearly as surprised to hear him as Beast is to hear it, but Beast quickly identifies himself as the last member of the mars mission, though he doesn't specify exactly what happened to the rest of the team.

The voice on the other end introduces himself as Enoch, and as Beast presses for information about what happened, tells him that a string of increasingly bad natural disasters swept the globe, and there are estimates that as much as half the population has been wiped out, but they're finally starting to pick up the pieces and fall back into their usual routines, and that Enoch is here to reestablish communications.

Due to the collapse and rebuilding of most major systems, Enoch will probably be the only voice online for a long time, and he warns it's definatley going to be longer before the world is reestablished enough to build a rocket to bring Beast home. This is not a concern for Beast who mostly seems to be in shock to hear someone else's voice at all.

Cue a few weeks of Enoch and Beast getting used to each other. Beast, despite his initial jump for the microphone and eagerness to hear Enoch, doesn't really adjust super well to having his isolation disturbed, but Enoch still tunes on, every day, (even weekends. They really are short staffed, he insists.), at 8 o'clock on the dot. Earth time, that is. Slowly, not entirely unlike a cat being socialized, Beast comes around, and finds Enoch an incredibly enjoyable companion. Even though Beast finds himself trying to relearn social norms after not only isolation, but also murdering at least seven of his twelve companions. (Slowly, through what Beast doesn't tell Enoch, it becomes increasingly clear that Beast is responsible for most of their deaths, and that most of them were motivated by hunger, but not starvation.)

But Enoch is a bit of a weirdo himself, as becomes increasingly hard to hide after four or five months of which he spends at least eight hours a day on call with Beast. There's something decidedly off about him, which Beast mostly attributes to living through half a decade of an apocalypse.

Enoch is missing a lot of common knowledge, some of it mundane, and some of it incredibly weird considering he's at least theoretically, a government employee, working for a space program, but hey, its the apocalypse, Beast assumes they can't be picky. The knowledge that Enoch does have makes him ever more enigmatic, he couldn't tell you how to fry an egg, but he does know everything about the hidden messages in the work of Edgar Allen Poe, and has encyclopedic knowledge of burial practices throughout history.

A couple of interesting interactions come from a game of twenty questions early in their interaction (initiated by Enoch, but escalated by Beast), which eventually ends with Beast asking the incredibly intense, and unrecommended game question "Have you ever killed somebody." to which Enoch laughs and says that he's lived through what very narrowly missed being the end of the earth, of course he's killed somebody, but doesn't provide any context. Which both relaxes and intrigues Beast, and the rest of his questions prod about looking for the edges of Enoch's moral compass. Enoch on the other hand asks things that he should really know considering he has Beast's profile on hand.

There's also a point where Beast asks if Enoch can access any of the cameras on base, and Enoch seems stunned there are cameras at all. Which leads to Beast getting suspicious and pressing about why Enoch doesn't seem to know jack shit about the mars mission, Enoch replies that the original earth team are dead, and among the weather phenomena were extreme electrical storms that at least partially wiped the computer system, meaning Enoch is kind of fumbling about with only the paper files he can find. Beast accepts this answer, and decides he'll help walk Enoch through the process of bringing the cameras on line.

But first, deep cleaning.

Not only has Beast been living alone, assured that no one will ever visit or see him again, he's also not had to be particularly careful about hiding the fact that he's a serial murderer. He scrubs basically anything that might have a trace of blood on it, hides all the bones, and breaks the camera in the deep freezer where he is... saving a few treats. Then, painstakingly walks Enoch through the process of bringing the cameras on line.

Enoch's reaction to seeing Beast for the first time can be, I guess, construed as flirting, but honestly it's just a very weird scene that emphasizes how very weird, but charming, of a guy Enoch is. Beast is even more awkward than he was adjusting to Enoch in his ear, because now Enoch can see him, and he's certain most of his mannerisms have grown ever more eclectic while left alone, but Enoch rarely comments on them. Beast is also a little put off about the fact he can't see Enoch, and mentions it, to which Enoch responds he would rectify the situation if he could.

He can't exactly, but Beast talks him through the process of sending a photo to mars. It takes half an hour to get sent and load up, but in the end Beast is left with a low quality but goofy selfie of Enoch, with an image of himself on one of the screens in the background. Revealing Enoch is, as he described himself to Beast when they first started conversing, a tall, heavyset black man, with a neat goatee, and presumably brown eyes, that are, in the photo, glowing eerily from the light of the flash in the darkness of the radio station. Beast teases Enoch over this, and Enoch makes a remark that he's never been particularly photogenic, which obviously fishtails into extremely round about flirting.

Beast also asks, at some point, if Enoch knows, or could find out about what happened to his goddaughter, Lorna. He gives Enoch a description of her, and her phone number, and Enoch promises he'll look into it. Enoch eventually (after a few weeks) tells Beast that he can't locate her if she is still alive. Beast remarks that she's a tough girl, and willing to do anything to survive, and that he's sure she's fine. Enoch gets odd about the remark and replies something along the lines of her not being the only one, which obviously catches Beast's attention, and he comes to the conclusion that maybe Enoch has done more than just kill to survive, and Beast is heavily considering telling Enoch about eating the other members of his mission, if only to try and crack Enoch so that he can get through the strange reserve that Enoch has around certain topics.

Slowly, over the course of nearly a year of constant communication and bonding, the inconsistencies in Enoch's stories have started to build up, and Beast has become convinced that Enoch is hiding the scope of what happened on earth from him. Enoch is just so strange, and never really has a good explanation for why no one else ever comes on air and talks around certain subjects in such a way that only raises Beast's suspicions more.

Beast is certain, so certain he would bet every penny to his name, on the fact that Enoch is lying to him.

He concludes that Enoch is alone, perhaps not the last person on earth, but the last around for miles, whatever catastrophe had not simply damaged the human population, it had decimated it, and Enoch, a survivor of the wastes, who had done what he deemed to be unspeakable, unredeemable things, had managed to stumble into the old government facility, and upon finding a radio, had tried desperately to radio for someone, anyone, only to be shocked to find someone had answered, but they weren't separated by land or sea, but by the vast expanse of space. Enoch must have clung to the only proof he wasn't alone in the universe, even if he was on earth, inventing a better alternative to the end of the world in hopes to keep the normalcy that might foster a relationship with the Beast, perhaps worried that news of the true end of the world might lead to Beast shutting down, or doing something drastic as he realized he was trapped on mars.

The chapter closes on Beast musing on how utterly poetic it is that the last person on mars and potentially the last person on earth found each other in the vastness of the universe, and that if they really are alone together, he might as well go all in and lay everything bare.

And then the second chapter opens with Enoch, this off the wall concept goes totally off the rails.

Because in this chapter, it becomes immediately obvious that not only is the Beast right that the cataclysmic event wasn't just devastating, but in fact world ending, it becomes clear immediately that Enoch is, in fact, the cause of that event.

Enoch is an ill-defined lovecraftian horror, that might be colloquially referred to as a star eater. He's come from the dark embrace of space and had been hibernating here on earth for a long time, however upon waking up, was utterly charmed by the culture and lifeforms that had sprung up since he crashed here a couple hundred thousand years ago. He spent about fifty years poorly disguised as a human, enjoying and learning about whatever struck his fancy while utterly ignoring whatever didn't, before deciding it was time he returned to his journey of slowly snuffing out the lights of the universe.

Needing a bit of energy to get himself started, he promptly began devouring life on earth, less a physical process of eating, as it is draining the life out of every living thing in a vague incomprehensible manner, that couldn't be interpreted by humans as anything but weather phenomena, because the brain really just isn't meant to process whatever it is Enoch is. That was the first three years. Over the past two years he's been slowly working his way across the globe to pick up any stragglers and incorporate them into himself. There are a few encampments of humans shored up in fortified bunkers and basements that he has to work to get into, not unlike an octopus figuring out how to open a jar, and he finds stray colonies of insects and rats that repopulated when he missed them the first time all along the way. There are also obviously a couple stretches of forest he never quite got around to, and some stuff kicking about deep in the ocean he hasn't bothered to even try and eat, but he's slowed down considerably in the last few years, enjoying wandering about in abandoned cities and trying out different knickknacks and that sort of thing.

Which is exactly what Enoch was doing, messing around with radios and space stuff deep in the heart of government facilities, wearing his human disguise because all the knobs and levers were so fiddly otherwise, when he spoke into one of the microphones and got Beast's response back.

Enoch has time, all the time in the world, because he doesn't live on the same time scale as a human, and he is initially fascinated because he wasn't aware humans were a spacefaring species, and admittedly, a little concerned he's made one galactic federation or another aware of his presence by suddenly wiping out a planet, which is initially why he sticks around, so that he can snoop through government files and see just how deep into space they've reached, radioing in with Beast is just something to do in the meantime. Luckily for him, mars is the furthest humans have traveled, but by the time he figures that out, he's already been charmed.

He's not exactly sure how the nuances of human social systems work, though he's got a broad understanding of it, so most of the red flags the Beast sends off about Definitely being a Murderer, are lost on him, but he's not entirely oblivious to the fact that Beast's also a weirdo, but chalks it up to the fact that this is a human who has clearly spent the better part of the last five years alone, and even Enoch is aware that humans tend to go a little off like that.

Enoch's motivation for lying to the Beast is mostly that he isn't sure how to break it to a guy that he incorporated the rest of humanity into his being, and gradually he digs himself into the lie, because he's having a good time. He builds himself a little den in the room he radios to Beast in, and during the hours he claims to be at home and doing his day to day life, he goes out and continues his slow purge of the planet.

He's nearly done, really he's stalling at this point, so he can linger in the cramped dark little room where he can talk to Beast. And we get a very interesting perspective to his lies, which come off as rather obvious from the Beast's side, but as rather ingenious from Enoch's side.

At this point there are fun parallels being drawn left and right for the audience about how the Beast ate everyone on mars, and Enoch ate (or is in the process of eating) everyone on earth, and how if they were actually together, one of them would have made an attempt to eat the other. Also clearly being displayed is the absolute lack of guilt on both sides, Enoch doesn't really view what he's doing as wrong, nor does he even consider it killing, and it technically isn't, and Beast has either abandoned his moral compass or didn't have one to begin with. It's a very dramatic irony heavy stretch of the story, that makes the flirting happening between the two even weirder, which is impressive considering neither of them have spoken to another human being in about four years at this point, and it was already weird.

And then Beast reveals that he ate the other members of his mission while also subtly hinting that he knows Enoch is alone, and lying to him, the latter thing immediately goes over Enoch's head, because he's a little caught up on the cannibalism thing. He was aware, of course, that cannibalism was a thing humans sometimes did, in theory at least, but to actually hear an admission of it? From his companion? Enoch is over the moon. Could Beast get any more perfect? They have so much in common!

And because he's never heard of subtlety, Enoch also reveals almost entirely unintentionally that he has also eaten people! Cue cannibalism discussions, Beast suddenly being a lot more cavalier about the murder thing, though he's still currently insisting that he did it out of necessity and not pleasure, and probably the most surreal scene out of this fic that doesn't exist, where the Beast and Enoch have a dinner date, separated by the vast expanse of space, Beast eating... leftovers from the rest of the crew, in front of one of the cameras jerry-rigged into a dining seat, while Enoch chatters on and tries desperately to sound like he understands how actual eating works, and is also eating, while staring with rapt attention at the screen while Beast slowly works his way through his meal.

So from Beast's end we have a budding cannibal romance, admittedly with the wrench that they're on different planets, both of which are equally apocalyptic, and from Enoch's end, he's fallen hard for a charming human who theoretically wouldn't be put off by Enoch's nature, but he can't even get to him.

This revelation also makes Enoch a lot less careful about hiding his inhumanity, not that he was particularly good at it before, leading to Beast coming to the conclusion that clearly, Enoch has cracked, but isn't particularly bothered by it, because really, who wouldn't given their current situations.

Eventually, the topic of Enoch being the last person on earth comes up again, with Beast being a lot more blatant about it this time (After all they're... weird... planet separated domestic partners at this point. Enoch can be honest with him) but Enoch understands this as Beast knows what he is, and Enoch is like, oh I'm so glad you already knew, and they comedy of error their way through the realization that the Beast didn't actually know what Enoch is, Enoch revealing he's some sort of spacefaring monster, Beast realizing Enoch actually thinks he is a lovecraftian horror, all of which happens while they're laying together in bed. (Beast in his bed, with one of the cameras propped up on a pillow, and Enoch comfortably curled up in his den of pillows strewn about the floor of the radio room)

This leads into a very strange couple's argument, which follows usual couple's argument tropes, while having the wild content of Beast insisting Enoch is just experiencing delusions as a result of intense isolation, and Enoch insisting that he's real, and also an incomprehensible horror.

Beast is starting to think that maybe he's the one with delusions, and maybe Enoch doesn't really exist at all, and he's just a guilt ridden fantasy, and that perhaps earth is fine, all those miles away, and nothing ever happened to it, and he's growing increasingly furious and panicked during the argument.

Eventually this argument coalesces into a week of radio silence from the Beast's side, while Enoch cajoles and pleads on the other side as Beast slowly and methodically covers up all the cameras, leaving them in a strange situation where Enoch is constantly on the line, talking in the dark room, with no external stimuli or response, which was a scene I conveyed by roughly 5k of a solid monologue which gets increasingly deranged as Enoch slips further and further away from human over the course of it, both in subject matter, and in the fact that the words get increasingly jumbled, doing that thing where the first and last letter are the same but all middle letters are jumbled, which is usually readable at a glance but dissolves into a jumble of letters if you look too long at it. (An effect you may rest assured will never actually be in a published fic of mine for numerous reasons.)

The Beast comes back on line with a few short words which basically boil down to "Prove it."

And Enoch does. He doesn't have the energy to get to mars alone, he'd need to nap to process the energy he got from eating earth, and by the time he woke up, Beast would be long dead, so he decides he's going the old-fashioned way. By rocket.

The issue is, Enoch doesn't have a crew, he doesn't have a team of specialists, and he's not very good at math, and he knows he can't get to mars if he just aims, because he'll definitely miss.

But you know what target is a lot harder to miss than mars?

The sun.

So Enoch decides he'll head for the sun and using an unmanned spacecraft which he squeezes into via size fuckery, launches himself, after signing off to Beast to wait for him, to just give him a little bit longer.

It takes about a month to get to the sun, but once there, he consumes the energy from it, the same way he'd been consuming energy from earth, and then, through... teleportation? Extreme speed? Ends up on mars, he has enough energy that he's able to focus in on the energy signals from the base, and basically lands in incomprehensible weather phenomenon form cradling the base, before taking on his human disguise to knock on the hatch.

Beast is, in a word, stunned.

He lets Enoch in, and things get very... noneuclidian. The actual distinction between them starts to slip away, and Enoch reveals that, he ate the sun to get here, meaning that the light that's shining on mars is borrowed time, and they have ten minutes before the sunlight runs out, and mars is plunged into darkness. That was the title of the fic I think. Ten Minutes In the Sun.

The ending gets very weird, very much A Great and Terrible Union turned up to eleven, as the prose gets weirder and weirder as... something happens? It's unclear if Enoch is consuming the Beast into him, if the Beast is metamorphizing into something more, maybe something like Enoch, or if they're fusing into something else, Star Trek the Motion Picture V'ger style.

But it ends, when the mars is suddenly plunged into darkness.

Having typed that all out, it's very obviously a concept that I wasn't entirely lucid with when I came up with it, but I can safely say that this one of the two fics that doesn't exist that lives in my brain rent free.

#dumb gay eldritch psychopomps #beastnoch

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thecatchat · 16 days ago

Note

Saphonite: good with kids in a responsible way

Cue: good with kids in a grunkle stan way

Karl: good with kids in a “doesn’t know what a child is exactly so treats them like equals which is more respect than they usually get and is therefore very popular with them, HOWEVER he is also wildly irresponsible especially at first and HAS left children stranded miles or even dimensions away from home because he forgot.” Way.

Karl is 100% like a fae or urban legend in some places he’s stayed in. Pied piper but he’s just hanging out.

Absolutely! Plus, Karl listens to their stories and doesn't laugh them off as "little kid things". He might even write the story down in a book!

He definitely is irresponsible at the same time, but I don't know how comfortable I am with implying that Karl has accidentally left kids in the wrong dimension. I think when he was hopping from dimension to dimension without going back, he'd try not to purposely take anything with him.

Handing the kid to the first other person he sees (including other children), that feels a bit better to me. Still wildly irresponsible, but more manageable in that a child isn't being ripped from everything they know.

Regardless, I think this could make him a big hit with Prowa Street Kids. Because he doesn't try to force them to go to school or to an orphanage. He asks for stories, and he'll give stories in exchange. He's free entertainment. He doesn't tell them no, just asks questions about what might happen. He even lets the little kids draw on his white coat with whatever they have.

In Quarry, on the other hand, the place where Children Are Important. He's... less popular with parents. If the kids suggests he take them monster hunting, he doesn't see a reason why not. He does tell wonderful stories, which can keep kids in one spot for a while. But he's a bit too easily convinced to go along with children's dangerous plans for parents to be comfortable with him being the only chaperone.

In general, I can totally see him being mistaken for a teacher and taking the class on an interdimensional field trip. Definitely a fae or urban legend in some places. But I'm not feeling Pied Piper for him.

Lark though, if he Knows that a child is being mistreated or something like that, well, it's not an animal so he can't adopt it. Eh, Karl's better at resolving stuff like this. *kidnaps child and drops in front of Karl* okay, goodbye.

#kaleidoscope dimensions

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thundertempo · 1 year ago

Text

"That's not what it sounded like in her letters." Nami's tone was rather matter-of-fact, because it was fact. She was going at reading people and even in writing Kaya's affection for the sniper was quite clear, something Nami had made a point to remind Usopp on multiple occasions. "Besides, we're pirates, who ever said we had to follow the rules? You wouldn't the be first pirate to take a wife the moment he returns to his home village, and I'm sure you won't be the last.

Was it necessary for him to tease Usopp in such a way? Of course not, but it was entertaining watching him get worked up over something that was clear as day to her. Of course she understood his trepidation, romance as a pirate wasn't quite so simple, which is why she glared at him the way she did when he continued to bring up her supposed crushes.

"Give it up Usopp," her voice lowered, raising her free fist to show him that she wasn't opposed to pummeling his face in. "You know it's not that simple." Nami sighed and though she wouldn't outright tell him, he did have a bit of a point. Feelings bubbled up for each one that he had brought up, though she still wasn't sure if she could call them a crush- each one bringing a completely different feeling, and none quite to the point of romantic love.

"You know how Sanji is." Waving her hand, she attempted to continue to explain away each one. While Nami adored Sanji and would fully admit she loved him, she wasn't sure she was in love with him. Sanji was... Sanji. He was her nakama, protector of her mikan grove and bringing of snacks and cocktails- If she had a number one fan, Sanji would be that person. "You know Tora-o-kun can't draw," Nami rolled her eyes, because that was a whole other can of worms. Law was undeniable handsome and a doctor, but he was keen on insisting that their crews were no longer allies, even when it was clear Luffy considered him nakama. "And that's just how Camie and I write to each other- Vivi too!"

Nami blinked wildly at Usopp, "Why are you even bringing that woman up!? I should kick you- there's nothing wrong with being a romantic!"

@baking-sheet to Usopp

"I want something that feels like summer today," Nami requested, sitting across from her male bestie with her hands out and ready for their weekly mani-pedis-n-gossip time.

#⛈️ ic response

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smurphyse · 2 years ago

Text

Desert Petrichor | S.R.

Smurph’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Chapter 13 of Operation: Sand Leopard

Warnings: canon typical stories, grief, crying, funerals, shower boners

Summary: You accidentally show too much of yourself to Spencer, and he's such a good guy about it... you just can't take it.

A few weeks after you set Spencer up on his call with his family, you still couldn't sleep.

You'd think the exciting events of the last month and a half would knock you out nightly, but the darkness wasn't your friend and never had been.

Plus, it was Teddy's birthday today. He would have been thirty eight.

You'd only been married two years when he died, and on nights like this, heady with memory, you couldn't help but think of the life you'd lost with him.

You'd planned for a family, a big one you'd dreamed of. You spent days putting together a room for Alijah to have when she came home with Teddy, proud and excited and ready to be a mother for her.

I tried to go easy on the pink, but it's such a pretty shade, Ted. Do you think she'll like it?

I know she will. We can't wait to see it, angel.

But then you'd been called up for duty, went to Afghanistan, and you got shot in the darkness. They pulled Teddy early from his mission so he could be by your side, and his plane exploded on its way to the military hospital in Germany.

They said it was mechanical failure, an accident. You didn't believe that for a second.

Before he died Teddy sent you a notebook, coded in the cipher he'd created as a kid so his brothers couldn't read his journals. He said he thought someone on his team was feeding information to Sayeed and his merry band of drug traffickers. Two weeks later he was dead.

Alijah's case was immediately pulled from the urgent pile, and she was sent back to Sayeed. She was twelve years old at the time, and they sent your daughter back into the arms of a child molester and murderer.

You'd die yourself before that happened to her again.

It was why you kept a stranglehold on who knew she was there. You didn't trust anyone, not even your unit, to visit her. It took a year for you to entertain the idea that Peanut could be someone in the room, and even then you'd changed your mind a million times.

The decision to let Spencer do it was a calculated one. Luke Alvez had served with Teddy in Iraq, and you'd come across him over the years on missions and the like. If Teddy trusted him, so did you, and now Spencer had proven himself to you so many times you couldn't help but do so.

You didn't think you could be Alijah's mother without Teddy being her father. You just didn't have it in you anymore. You'd woken up alone in that hospital bed in Germany with a bullet just missing your heart, and then it had been shattered irreparably when two Marines in Service Alpha uniform walked somberly in and told you he was dead.

You didn't have anything to offer her except to keep Teddy's promise and bring her to safety in the States.

You were sitting outside, drawing Teddy's face from memory and leaning against the CHU, wallowing instead of getting some sleep. You didn't notice Spencer until he sat down beside you, startling you and making you drop your pen.

"Jesus!" you gasped, slapping a hand over your chest as your heart beat wildly.

Spencer flashed you a sleepy sheepish grin that only made it pound even harder, "Sorry. I thought you heard me."

"Put a fucking bell on," you grumbled, snatching your pen from the ground and snapping your journal shut.

Spencer just watched you, his brow cocked and an unamused expression on his face. You groaned and rolled your eyes, "Sorry. I'm just not in a great mood."

“Well, this might make you feel better,” Spencer said excitedly. He dug through his pockets and fished out a notebook, flashing it at you. “I finally figured out the code.”

You hoped the shock of terror that burst through you didn’t show on your face. Luke had told you he was smart but… Jesus fuck, who could crack a code by hand that fast without writing anything down?

Spencer flipped through the book to a post-it marked page and pointed at a passage, “This says, ‘I’m scared for her, Angel. Somehow the suspect is always one step ahead of me. I think I’m being watched… or I’m going crazy. Could be one of each or both.’”

You’d read all the journals thousands of times at this point. You could recite it word for word.

“Teddy thought there was a mole in the unit,” Spencer mumbled quietly, then looked up at you. “But you already knew that.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, "Every move I make, Sayeed seems to know before I even make it."

"Then how'd you find Alijah again?"

"I didn't tell anyone, not even the unit, where we were going," you started slowly. You licked your lips and watched him in the moonlight. You hated how little you could trust those around you. It wasn't how you were trained.

As a Marine, and as a soldier, you were taught to trust your unit. The bond between people serving with one another was strong, even when you didn't like someone. These people had to have your backs and you had to have theirs otherwise nobody would survive out here.

"My team didn't have access to comms until we arrived at the hideout I heard Sayeed was at. When we got there, the only people there were his followers and Alijah." You rubbed your face roughly as the memory surfaced, groaning, "They tried to kill her to keep her from us. They knew she had information and had been turned before. Sayeed didn't kill her because apparently she's his favorite…

"We did what we had to. The mission changed as soon as I laid eyes on Alijah," you finished, staring down at your hands as the image of her in that dim old house came to the surface. "It was like Teddy was calling me from beyond the grave. I mean, she was right there… she wasn't even supposed to be there."

"Did you serve with him?" Spencer asked, making you look up at him with a furrowed brow. He pointed at the notebook he held, so similar to the one you'd been drawing your husband's face in, "Teddy."

"Uh, no, but Alvez did," you murmured. You couldn't let Spencer know how personal this was for you, not now that he knew about Teddy's plan to adopt Alijah. "I met him on liberty in Dubai. We kept in touch and I served with Alvez on my last bit with the Marines before I got shot."

Spencer smiled dreamily and leaned his head on the CHU siding, "I've never been to Dubai."

You glanced down at your hands again, scarred and damaged from years of putting your body through abuse in warzones. The new one on the side of your head throbbed. You'd never get to show Teddy your new scars like you had that night in Dubai.

"It's beautiful," you grumbled at the dirt. Your chin wobbled against your permission, and you had to clap your hand over your mouth to suppress it.

Spencer was watching you, and you could feel the weight of his concern soaking you in that softness of his as you tried to hold back your tears. There was no hiding them, though, and they spilled down your cheeks in rivulets of hot streaks through the dirt.

"He was a good man," you whispered shakily, moving your hand just enough to let the words out. "He didn't deserve what happened to him. His family deserved better."

I deserved better, you thought selfishly. Alijah and I deserved better, dammit!

Warmth flooded your shoulders as Spencer's arm wrapped around you. He didn't say anything, just let you know he was there as you cried.

When he pulled you close, the cinnamon and musk of his aftershave flooded your nose with his comforting scent, your arms wrapped around his waist without thought. One of his hands trailed up your arm and into your hair, sliding your head into the crook of his neck.

With your nose underneath his jugular, you melted into him. You hadn't had a real hug in so long, and on a night like this you needed it more than ever. Spencer's strong chest beat in time with your own, seemingly deafening in the desert silence until your tears subsided.

You couldn't bring yourself to pull away, and instead as shame blossomed in your belly at finding comfort in another man on your husband's birthday, you nestled into Spencer Reid.

He held you for a long time, his thumbs rubbing soothing lines into your skin even long after you'd calmed down. It felt good to cry around someone you trusted, as odd as that sounded. For so long, you'd hidden your grief, not even letting it show at Teddy's funeral.

Instead, in your Marine dress blues and with a cane as you still couldn't stand easily from your wound, you'd stood as tall and straight as you could while you watched his coffin lower into a grave at Arlington National Cemetery. His mother and brothers had cried even though the boys were in uniform as well, but not you.

When the gun salute rang out, booming loud and causing everyone there who was not in the military to flinch, you'd saluted his coffin. You let Luke Alvez guide you to your car, and when the driver dropped you off at your now empty hole of a home, you dropped to your knees in the foyer and sobbed for hours.

You always regretted not crying for him there, for letting the shame of being seen consume you.

But…Spencer saw you. Without any effort at all he saw you, and he liked what he saw. He gave up his precious free time to hang out most of the night with you. You couldn't help but see the crush he had on you, and with horrified shock you realized you felt it too.

After a while, you pulled yourself from Spencer’s arms and grabbed your notebook, leaving him in the dirt and fleeing inside. Shutting the door behind you, you leaned against it and dove under the covers on your cot, hiding from the world and the desert and Spencer Reid… everything that hurt and frightened you.

You heard Spencer's boots clunk down the hall, flinched when his knuckles tapped softly on the door, but you didn't move. Instead, you curled up into a ball and coiled your muscles so tightly you were sure your bones would snap. You almost hoped they would.

At least then they would send you home and you wouldn't have to see Spencer or the unit for a while. You wouldn't have to worry about bringing them home.

It would be someone else's problem.

But then…you'd lose Alijah, again. You'd lose Sivan.

Lying on your cot and staring at the ceiling, you knew you couldn't let that happen. You weren't going to let the shame of being seen destroy these good things in your life.

You loved Alijah. Without knowing her, you had loved her all those years ago. Love, in its unbreakable true to form self, that had only changed shape.

It had made room for Sivan… and Spencer.

----------------

Spencer got exactly zero sleep last night.

He'd thought, perhaps foolishly, that cracking Teddy's code would make you happy. His crush-addled brain had conjured images of you laughing and smiling, maybe even hugging him. He had not thought for even a moment that the night would end with you crying and his hug being used for comfort instead of joy.

You had already cracked the code, and you'd tested him…again. He was prepared to be a little snippy about it, but as soon as he spotted you drawing somberly in the moonlight he couldn't quite bring himself to act like that.

Your hair had fallen over your shoulders, the pale wash of the moon mixing with the harsh overhead lights of the base and illuminating you in a glow that had stilled his good for nothing romantic heart in the darkness. He chose to make you smile instead, but it hadn't worked out like that.

When you pulled away he knew you were embarrassed, and he didn't want to push you any further. You were a private person, and he wanted to respect that, so when he walked quietly to your door he didn't really expect you to answer, just wanted you to know you could if you wanted to.

You didn't say much at the DFAC that morning, just leaned against Barretti's burly frame with your sunglasses on and drank your coffee while the unit joked around as they usually did. They didn't push you to talk, it seemed they knew better.

You didn't have a new FRAGO today, so you let them have a day off before heading off toward your office. Spencer was going to spend the day with the unit but he only lasted a few hours before he went to find you.

Spencer expected you to be at your desk, but when he opened the flimsy metal door to the trailer he found you lying on the floor with your legs propped up against the wall, snoring loudly.

He smiled to himself as he leaned against the frame. You were ridiculous, with your arms crossed over your chest and your mouth open wide enough to catch flies, rattling the metal frame of the trailer with those sunglasses still propped on your nose.

He decided to leave you be, and pulled out a chair as quietly as he could to sit at the table. Your snoring became the background noise of his research as he went over satellite data and Sayeed reports and case history. He didn't even notice you'd woken up until your palm slammed the side of the table in a death grip as you hauled yourself up from the floor.

Spencer jumped in surprise as his face was reflected in your lenses. You grumbled to yourself, dragging your body into a chair and resting your head in your hands.

"Why don't you just sleep in your CHU?" Spencer asked with a small chuckle.

"You keep me up at night," you growled into the table, making him laugh again. You looked up enough to scowl at him, snatching your glasses off your face and letting them clatter to the table, "You never shut the fuck up, Doc."

"Well if you snored like that next door I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. We both might as well be awake," he snarked back, and finally you smiled.

You tugged on a file and pulled it close, squinting down at the information inside, "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

You sighed and scrubbed your face with one of your hands, letting it drag down and pull on your jaw. "Look, I'm sorry I lost it. I had a bad day, is all."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," Spencer told you softly, and he reached out to bump his knuckle against one of yours. "People cry sometimes, and it's not a bad thing."

You bristled immediately, your shoulders coiling and your jaw tightening. You leaned forward and squinted at him, "Do you know where we are right now? You lose it, you get killed out here."

"We weren't outside the wire, Y/N," Spencer scoffed, leaning forward as well just to prove to you he wasn't scared of you. "But you wanna talk about getting killed? Not trusting your team is what gets you killed, and hiding information from me is a surefire way to send me home in a box."

You flinched, and Spencer regretted his words in an instant. He sighed and without much thought, reached out his finger to loop around one of yours. To his surprise you let him.

"You keep testing me, to see if you can trust me. That's fine, after reading Teddy's suspicions, I understand," he muttered, squeezing your finger lightly, and you squeezed back. "But I'd rather just do the thing I need to do to prove myself once and for all rather than digging up the same information you've already discovered."

You watched him for a long moment, your eyes heavy and your mind obviously full as it churned through the thoughts inside.

"I do trust you, Spencer," you told him, hardly above a whisper, as if you couldn't believe you said it out loud. "It's me that's the problem. I need to make sure you all make it home alive, and not in one of those fucking flag covered boxes. I need to stay… focused."

"I shouldn't have said that-," he started, but you waved your free hand at him to stop him.

"This mission has killed enough people. Hell, even I wanna go home after this and stay there."

"You and Teddy were closer than you admitted last night," he said, and you nodded.

"He was my best friend," you whispered, looking away. He could tell you were holding something back, so he found himself reaching out to cup your jaw to force you to catch his eye again.

"Then all we need to do is find Sayeed and take Alijah home to Angel. That's what he wanted, and that's what we'll do."

Your eyes welled with grief, and your tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip like you always seemed to do when the words got caught in your throat.

"I need to tell yo-," you started, but the door suddenly flung open to reveal a panting Morello covered in water stains.

You and Spencer flew apart like you'd been burned, caught and embarrassed at the act of intimacy in a warzone seen by anyone else. He missed the feeling of your calloused fingers against his skin immediately, longing to reach out and grab your hand and never let go.

"It's… it's fucking raining!" Morello gasped, not seeming to notice anything out of the ordinary at all.

You stood sharply from the chair, letting it clatter behind you. Grinning, you grabbed Spencer by the wrist and dragged him from the trailer and into the downpour.

Spencer had only been here a few months, so he hadn't thought much of the lack of rain, but by the giddy shouts and grown men and women running around it must have been a long time since anyone had seen it.

People rushed about, wrestling in the fast forming mud puddles and plopping down in the water in glee. You giggled madly as you dashed after Morello, Spencer struggling to keep up as he gawked at all the normally fierce soldiers running around like children.

He followed you to the makeshift soccer field the unit played on so often, and they were already running around and kicking a ball back and forth.

Garrett held up his fists in triumph as he spotted you, "I'm ready to drown in this shit!"

Peanut dashed over and snatched the ball from him, and soon enough they were all wrestling around in the mud and dirt, caked all over and panting excitedly. You tried to tackle Barretti for the ball and he simply remained his usual brick wall self and grabbed you and tossed you over his shoulder.

When he dropped you in a mud puddle, Morello was there in an instant to plop a handful of the muck into your hair. Garrett shoved Spencer squarely in the back and he fell over you and into the dirt.

He looked up just in time to see Peanut and Garrett descending into the pile, holding out his hands and cackling madly, "No, no, no, wait!"

It was too late, and the soccer game dissolved into a wrestling pit of them all shoving one another into the mud until they all eventually lay gasping and laughing on the ground. You slung your legs over his sweaty wet chest and crossed your arms under your head, grinning up at the rain as it poured over you all.

When it stopped after a mere hour, a chorus of groans and curses echoed around the base. The sun was beginning to set, arid heat rising again as it baked the mud into hard cakes along Spencer's clothes.

One by one the unit filtered out until only you and Spencer remained, heading out to clean up for dinner. The weight of your heavy boots on his chest was comforting in the dying daylight, and he could have fallen asleep like that in the mud.

"You miss home, Doc?" you asked quietly.

Spencer looked over but he couldn't see your face, just the bottom of your jaw and the steady rise and fall of your chest.

"Not like I thought I would," he replied. "I miss my books, though."

"You got a lot of those?"

Spencer chuckled and brushed back some of his dried dirty hair, wincing when his fingers caught in the thick paste. "I have seven bookshelves filled to the brim, and piles everywhere."

"Mmm," you hummed, then waved a lazy dirt caked hand, "what else?"

Spencer furrowed his brows at you, but you didn't even look his way. He didn't understand why you even wanted to know, and of course you didn't give much away. You never did.

"I have… a record player, a pretty nice clawfoot tub-."

"You a bath guy, Doc?" you interrupted him, sitting up on your elbows to flash him a mischievous grin.

Spencer got up on his own to wink at you, "Oh yeah, the best place to read is in a hot bath."

"Wow. You really are a giant nerd." You moved your foot enough to tap him on the jaw, and he playfully swatted it away.

You hoisted your feet from him and turned to plop next to him on the ground, sighing and looking up at the flashes of purple and blue etching their way across the fading blue sky.

"I would kill for a bubble bath right now."

"Same," you grumbled.

"You were going to say something earlier, before Morello came in," Spencer started, the feeling of your heat next to him reminding him of your earlier conversation…and the wondrous sensation of his hand touching your skin.

"Oh," you breathed shakily, and he could have sworn you blushed beneath the mud streaks on your face. "Just that… I think Angel is still going to adopt Alijah."

"Good!" Spencer smiled, but then frowned. "What about Sivan?"

"Her too, we just gotta find her first."

"At least Alijah will have the mom she wanted…" he murmured. Spencer broke out into a hearty laugh and you glared at him.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just… Angel will become a mom and a grandma at the same time."

You blanched, "Oh dear God. She's only thirty two!"

You sat up sharply, staring wide eyed across the base. Spencer sat up with you and set a hand on your shoulder, "What’s wrong?"

"Uhm… nothing, " you blatantly lied. "I gotta go. I need to shower."

You got to your feet and hurried off without a backward glance. It wasn't like the usual way you walked away from him, it was anxious and you were twitchy with nerves.

Spencer followed a few minutes later, and he went to knock on your door to check on you but the shower in the latrine was already running, so he went to his own CHU and washed the muck from his body.

You were so strange, all the time. He couldn't seem to get a good read on you, and it bothered him.

Your caginess reminded him of Maeve. Though you were really nothing like her, your fierce protectiveness of your privacy was the same. He was trying to be respectful of it, but as had happened with Maeve he was infatuated with you, and it made him want to know more.

Spencer took a deep breath and let the lukewarm water flow over his shoulders. The dried dirt turned to rivulets of mud, and he watched it trail down his body and down the drain.

He tried to envision it washing away the queries in his mind, taking his crush on you and letting it go with the water and disappear into the pipes below. Soon enough, your face popped up in his mind, and as it had since he'd seen you in your underwear a few precious weeks ago, his body reacted to the image.

"Go away," he grumbled to his growing hard on.

That damned memory of you in your green Marines tee and black panties didn't want to dissipate, the clinking of your dogtags and the blush on your cheeks stained on the backs of his eyelids forever. You had tried not to appear embarrassed, but he could tell you didn't really mind if he saw you like that…and that was why he couldn't forget it.

Over the last few weeks your touches had started to linger, fingertips brushing skin and your body relaxing into him just before pulling away as you sat closer than colleagues outside your CHUs, talking and laughing into the night like teenagers. Each time another of your walls came down, another went up, but what he saw behind them was worth the aching in his chest every time he thought about you.

It had been so long since Spencer had looked at another person as anything but another human existing in this life. He saw you as an equal, a friend, and someone he trusted with his entire being.

Spencer even seemed to trust you with his heart, even though something told him it was dangerous, and you had too. He could realistically die out here, or you could, or the unit, and it would scar him forever. It would probably be the final crack in his facade of sanity.

But when he saw you smile… when your eyes crinkled at the edges and you let out those ridiculous guffaws of yours… when your snoring rattled the windows… when you bumped your shoulder with his and made a joke at his expense… it just ignited that flame in his belly that told him to ignore his screaming instincts.

You were going to break his heart. Spencer was going to let you.

Notes: How long do you think it'll take these two to jump eachothers bones?? How does it feel to realize reader will be a mother and a grandmother all at once??

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

CM Forever Tag: @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencersprettyslut @im-sure-its-fine @tvdstelenaforever @teddylupintonks @lilibet261 @kneelforloki @dirtytissuebox @almostgenerallyalways @whovian378 @cl0udyqu33n

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13eyond13 · 2 years ago

Note

My mind's drawing blanks for the ask thingy but UHMMM UHHMMM do you...want to talk about Death Note? Can I have your thoughts on your least favorite character and why you dislike them AND OR your favorite character? ♥

Hello hello again ♡ thank you ever so much for sending me an ask, ofc I always am delighted to talk about Death Note, even if I have been here flapping my lips so long about it that I probably have repeated myself one gazillion times over the years 👀

LEAST FAVES:

I honestly don't dislike any of the Death Note cast too intensely. At least not compared to some other series that have characters that severely get under my skin! BUT if I had to pick the top three that maybe do the least for me personally on a regular basis, I would say:

• Rem - love her design and her concept, but find the writing behind her character is often both confusing and disappointing (her devotion to Misa doesn't always make a ton of sense to me. Nor do the times she suddenly changes her mind about some of the things that she strongly believes and feels whenever it is convenient for the plot). Wish I cared about her more, because she plays such a pivotal role

• Mello - I don't know why his actions in this series bother me the most out of all of the characters (like clearly Light would technically have a much higher body count than he does), but I think it's because Mello is the most overtly physically aggressive one of the entire cast with the way he waves his gun around all willy-nilly and violently kidnaps a different girl on seemingly every other page. And I don't feel like we often get much deeper insight into his thoughts or emotions so that I can at least more clearly see where he's coming from, even despite not having much in common with him nor liking how he behaves

Mikami - there's nothing wrong with how he is written or anything along those lines, but I think he reminds me a bit too much of the extremely strictly religious and morally judgmental people that I spent so much of my childhood around and now find so very hard on the head. It's always been a bit difficult for me to ever warm up to him enough to get emotionally invested in shipping him or reading fics about him or anything else

FAVES:

• Light -(but I'm not going to do him the honour of writing up a list of reasons why, exactly what the bastard would want... let's just say that I think the series would basically be nothing without him)

And OTHERWISE my fave fictional character of all-time is definitely L! So let me just copy/paste you all my reasonings from another past ask about this below:

• L -It’s a bit tricky to articulate exactly why I enjoy him so much, and I think it’s complicated by the fact that I feel he’s sometimes overrated in the fandom and/or reduced to a lesser caricature of himself in basically every DN adaptation/spinoff out there. But manga!L is very entertaining to analyze for me because there’s always this intriguing duality and ambiguity about his personality and behaviour. Hmmm, let me try to explain…

THE ODD DUALITY OF L:

HONEST vs DISHONEST- he’s clearly often deceptive and elusive about stuff, and yet there’s also this sense that he’s actually a very simple and bluntly straight-forward person much of the time, too. I have so much fun reading between the lines with his cryptic moods and so many of the unexpected things that he does and says from time to time. And I love that all the other characters around him are constantly doing the same with L, too. Their incredulous double-takes and suspicious side-eyeing of him always makes me lol

EGOTISTICAL vs HUMBLE - there are so many examples in the manga of moments where L is either slyly showing off or possibly being genuinely demure regarding impressive things about himself. It’s always so hard to tell the difference and it’s always 10/10

CORRUPT vs THE “GOOD GUY” - he’s super morally grey at all times, and I’m always drawn to those more complicated types. I’ve seen the fandom produce so many wildly different takes about his goodness and his evilness over time on both extreme ends of the scale, and I often find it difficult to strike the proper balance when talking about L as well. It’s very easy to characterize him as overly cruel and corrupt or overly noble and kind, and it’s always way more interesting to me when a character is that difficult to define

REFINED vs FERAL - L’s always daintily sipping tea cups in his luxury hotel suite while simultaneously barefoot crouching on the chair and scribbling all over the coffee table with a permanent marker. Everything about him is a bizarre combination of these two polar opposite traits, and yet it always seems to make sense completely whenever you think about it as well

AWKWARD/OBLIVIOUS vs SLY/MANIPULATIVE- always a fun question to ask yourself during L’s more questionable social interactions and shady decisions

KINKY vs TAME- he’s so weirdly suggestive and also extremely not at the same time, idk why but it works so well for his character and it’s just the funniest thing ever to me lol

OVERBEARING vs ALOOF- he’s somehow both incredibly nosy and overly involved and also very detached and distant from everyone simultaneously

LIVING THE DREAM vs TRAGIC, LONELY LIFE- I enjoy the depressing implications that can arise from contemplating his lonely existence and questionable past and the sad way his story ends… but that he’s also totally non-edgy and oddly goofy in some ways and seems to be having a great time doing exactly what he wants to be doing, too

I think all this ambiguity and constant tightrope-walking could easily become gimmicky and tiresome in a character, and yet it’s so well done and always makes sense and never annoys me in the least. L’s somehow both incredibly vague and incredibly precise and consistent as a character at the same time, which is pretty interesting and impressive to me. Light and the other characters in L’s orbit always seem to have the same questions about him as the audience does, and you never get concrete answers about any of it most of the time. There’s so much stuff left up to interpretation intentionally by O&O in Death Note, and I appreciate that enduring sense of mystery surrounding some of L’s true feelings and motives even long after he’s gone.

I also can’t overstate how much of L’s appeal is simply due to what an excellent foil and antagonist he is for Light. L is my favourite, but I think Light is by far the most interesting character and the whole reason the story is such a classic in the first place. The way L constantly thwarts Light and yet also spurs him on to show off and double down on his Kira shit is super entertaining to watch. You gotta respect how effectively L can push Light’s buttons and always keep him sweating, and you really get why Light seemingly both loves and hates their interactions so much. Light’s curiously positive emotional reactions to L and his enduring respect for him even after he dies is some of the most interesting stuff about the entire story to me, too. That definitely adds to L’s intrigue, as does the way the successors and the task force continue to muse about him long after he’s gone.

Overall I just think L is a highly entertaining and well-written and well-designed character, weirdly simple and complicated and funny and sad all at once, super relatable and a Constant Mood™ despite being so prickly and enigmatic, and a definite scene-stealer for me whenever he’s onscreen. I’m not really sure what pushes him to favourite of all time status for me?? But my lizard brain just seems to love him and has loved him for at least the past decade and a half. So at this point I must simply shrug and accept my fate

#rem #mello #mikami #light yagami #l lawliet #ask #vaidianathan #p #thx!

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anotherfmablog · 4 years ago

Text

You know what i love? Details.

I love the map of Amestris and the neighbouring countries, i love how we can guess things about the ishvalan culture from just a few panels/scenes. I love all of it,but the one thing that i can't stop thinking about is the idea local differences within Amestris. Stuff like accents, famous foods, stereotypes etc. So, because i can't get this idea out of my brain imma go ahead and write down a few headcanons i have!

Ed and Al grew up in the South East area near Ishval and something in me really wants me to believe that they have a slight "southern drawl" . Like, not what we think a southern accents is, but their version. An accent directly influenced by the ishvalan language in some way born out of years and years of cultures intermingling. Maybe they draw out their vowels a bit,maybe they have slang, maybe they pronounce certain words completely differently from the folks up in Central,leading to some misunderstandings when Ed first became a state alchemist. (Also, Edward definitely uses a shit ton of slang whereas Al really doesn't but has his moments when he's stressed or angry)

You know those people who grew up in smaller towns around big cities but still say that they're from the city because "it's the same thing"? That's a thing here too. Everyone who lives 45 minutes/an hour away from Central say that they're from Central, so much so that it became an inside joke amongst people who are actually from Central.

While we're on the topic of Central, i have a feelingt that the people living there have a "posh upper-middle class" way of speaking that is absolutely hilarious to everyone and is made fun of on the regular. (Ed participates)

Nobody really talks about the The West Area in the fandom and i would like to propose a hilarious idea. Ehem, ✨Amestrians don't talk about it either ✨Literally nothing happens there, like ever. If you say you're from a town in the west well then be ready to have your whole entire existence denied because, according to the Amestrian Youth™ and their sense of humor, you don't actually exist.

Edward and Al are actual rockstars back in their hometown and the general area. Usually, life there is pretty slow and idyllic, nothing but rolling grass hills and farms for miles, so for an average farmer/worker/housewife reading about The Elric Brothers' latest escapeds in the local newspapers is nothing short of wildly entertaining. It makes them sorta proud in a way, they're Their Boys™, every southerner adores the Elric brothers.

The Amestrian flag was changed shortly after Roy became fuhrer, his reasoning being that it felt wrong to have the old flag due to the circumstances of how Amestris even came to be. He changes the country's reputation of being militaristic and war ready by rebuilding Ishval, encouraging export of agricultural goods, making education widely avaliable etc. All in all, he's a great fuhrer, but his mustache isn't going away no matter how many times Havoc tells him that he "kinda looks like a pedo, boss"

You can add your own ideas to this if you're feeling up to it!!

#edward elric #fmab #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #alphonse elric #roy mustang #jean havoc #Ishval #amestris #winry rockbell #vato falman #riza hawkeye #homunculi #homunculus

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 2 years ago

Text

Sports Festival: AKA How Many Times Will Izuku Blush Chapter 3

Summary: With the future spelled out in multiple ways, Izuku now faces off in a series of battles to win the sports festival! Except you know, he’s facing off against all his future lovers and they’re all very interested in winning his heart. The stadium, Japan, and various others watch!

Part of the Photos/Videos Verse!!

On AO3!

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Having children had never been Hisashi’s plan. He’d wanted a successor to his role in the underworld. He chose to use Shimura Nana’s grandson for it as soon as he heard of the boy. It was easy to goad the father more and more to get him angrier at his family.

Hisashi was old. He was ancient, and while he’d like to stay alive for much longer, he also lost interest in the Japanese underworld. It was time to move on. And using the grandson of one of the annoyances seemed perfect. He’d also hoped to continue the game he started with the annoyances. Drawing the fools to a new continent would be fascinating.

Then he’d had a child. His marriage to Inko was based on sex and a little vacation for him. He’d never meant to have a child. But he’d wondered what sort of Quirk he’d have. The ability to steal Quirks just by wanting them? No touching or tentacles needed? A copy Quirk?

Sadly the child had no Quirk. Or so Hisashi thought as he dismissed the boy. He’d provide for Inko and Izuku but barely did he care about them. Inko was for stress relief, and Izuku was just there. However, it seemed Hisashi had been wrong.

Izuku did have a Quirk. An analytic one? Something that let him use One for All to its fullest potential. The sound of that Quirk… Hisashi wanted it. Sadly the damn thing probably got eaten by One For All like all the rest. No matter, his son would be easy to sweep into the fold with Tomura, one of his possible lovers. Perhaps he could gain the Quirk later on. Or hell, maybe he would let Tomura loose from the various brainwashing Quirks. It would be fun to see that happen, Tomura fighting against him when Hisashi taught him everything.

Hisashi chuckled. Oh, he was going to be entertained.

-0-

Hero Ficstastic: Ugh

Drama Lama: What’s wrong?

Hero Ficstastic: Some asshole commented on my Manual fic asking about my All Might one. Like an entire: I have to gush about this other fic when will it update thing.

Drama Lama: oh yikes! Like seriously? They think that’s okay?

Hero Ficstastic: Yeah. Really killed the mood to write more you know?

Drama Lama: totally understand.

NOTICE ME HAWKS is online

NOTICE ME HAWKS: Oh god!!! Are you guys watching the sports festival?

Hero Ficstastic: No? Babysitting the tiny terror.

Drama Lama: dude I’m working. I have zero time to do shit.

NOTICE ME HAWKS: Okay well if you’re on break: [LINK] WATCH.

Hero Ficstastic: … Is it ethical to write about a teenager?

Drama Lama: Don’t do sex and you’re fine.

Hero Ficstastic: It’s RPF. I never do sex. That’s just weird.

-0-

Nejire had never been happier that she preferred women as when she saw the stink eyes Mirio and Tamaki were getting when they walked into the arena. They’d been contacted by Nezu, who requested they come in order to ‘keep all variables under control.’

Ha. More like the principal wanted to get some entertainment. Nejire was one of the big three, even if she didn’t act like it. She knew Nezu found this hilarious and wanted to see what would happen. It was all right; Nejire found it hilarious too.

“Man, they’re reeeeeally mad,” she said in her best sing-song as they walked through the halls. They were passing by three different class 1A members at once, all shooting a glare at them. Definitely, Nezu’s doing.

“Would you stop that,” Tamaki whined.

“Hmmm… nope!” Nejire giggled. “Oh, look! Midoriya!” She pointed at a screen showing him and the purple-haired boy who’d shown up as one of the guy’s lovers. Mirio and Tamaki snapped to attention. Midoriya’s face was incredibly red as the other kid leaned in, grinning wildly. Izuku took a step back, squeaking and then froze. The mic on the stage caught the following words.

“I’d ask for a kiss, but brainwashing you to do so is full-on disgusting. So walk out of the ring, all right babe?” the boy asked, and Izuku began obeying, walking away.

“No!” Mirio looked upset as Tamaki groaned.

“This is gonna hurt him.” the soft boy whispered, and Nejire hummed, watching the screen. It looked like a win until a sudden gust of air occurred, Midoriya’s fingers breaking. He turned around to face the purple guy, who looked shocked.

“How…” Midoriya didn’t answer him, rushing the other to throw him out of the ring even as he began grappling. Sadly the purple guy didn’t have as much muscle.

“Midoriya is the winner!” Midnight cried out. The mics caught the rest still.

“How did you…”

“I… I think One for All did something… I think I saw ghosts… can you brainwash me again?”

“...Yeah, sure.”

“Man!” Mirio laughed. “Izuku is awesome!”

“Yeah…” Tamaki said in his gentle way, eyes becoming hearts. Nejire grinned. She needed to make Midoriya her friend right now. Finding out how Quirk might have ghosts and then asking to be brainwashed to see them? Hell yeah, sign her up for that friendship.

-0-

Hawks @itsabirdnamedhawks

[Picture of Hawks outside the UA sports festival stadium]

Taking the chance to visit the kid responsible for the chaos going down!

Cherry on Top @letsgocrazy

What do you say to all of the comments going on about the case against the HPSC?

Hawks @itsabirdnamedhawks

I can’t comment on an active case!

August Falke is Bae @nerdforheroics

AKA: I can’t say anything since I’m the victim.

-0-

Izuku sat in the infirmary, looking at his hand as Recovery Girl patched it up. His brain was running in two different directions.

1- Ghosts. So his Quirk had ghosts now, apparently. All right then, he was going to beg for answers from All Might. There had to be an answer.

2- Holy shit, he was going to be in the final battle at the sports festival. There was no other reaction other than panicked screaming inside of his head.

“Young Midoriya?” All Might said, entering the room. Izuku looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m in the finals!” he squeaked. All Might chuckled.

“You are! Right where you deserve to be, my boy!” the man laughed as Recovery Girl sighed.

“I suppose that’s true, but please be more cautious, Midoriya,” she told the boy. “The world’s eyes are on yourself right now, and you need to be careful with your Quirk.” She paused. “Why hasn’t your original Quirk helped?”

“I… maybe cause I don’t know how to use it….” Izuku frowned. From the sounds of it, his original Quirk was based on analysis that worked primarily when he held a different power inside of him. So why didn’t it work?

“Have you come at it sideways?” a new voice asked. The pro-Hero Hawks appeared in the doorway. Izuku squealed, unable to hide it, hands covering his mouth.

“Ohmygodit’sHawks!” he muttered. Hawks gave him a grin.

“Sup, kid? You’ve caused quite a stir.” Hawks said, a brief look of exhaustion crossing his face before vanishing.

“Oh…” Izuku said, remembering what had been revealed. “Uh…”

“How are you, Hawks?” All Might asked, looking at the younger hero in worry. The winged hero shook his head.

“Been better. Nezu reached out and asked me to come by. Agent Zero requested I get a neutral party to look me over to check everything the Commission did, so I came by to ask Recovery Girl if she can fit me in later.” Hawks nodded to the healer, who replied affirmatively.

“I’m not a full doctor, but I can check you over and direct you to an actual doctor who can give you a better idea.” Recovery Girl said. She frowned. “When was the last time you took a break?”

“My hero contract has me taking a day off every three weeks.” Hawks said dryly. All Might choked, eyes wide as Recovery Girl cursed loudly. “I know.”

“Hawks… that’s horrible!” Izuku said, shaking his head. The winged hero waved a hand.

“I’m aware, Midoriya. I’m not that blinded by them,” Hawks sighed. “Hearing two futures I was in, one where I had a kid and a spouse, one where I went villain… it shocked me. I realized that I couldn’t see those futures, too focused on being the Commission’s hero.” Hawks shook his head. “So, thanks. Thank you for showing me I was blind.”

“...You’re welcome.” Izuku swallowed. “Umm… two futures?” He could only remember one future.

“Oh, right.” Hawks grinned. “Takami Keigo, at your service. Apparently, you and I can end up brothers-in-law.” He laughed.

“Oh! The Todoroki… right.” Izuku smiled at Hawks. “It’s nice to meet you… uhh, what did you mean by coming at my Quirk sideways?”

“I can move my feathers telekinetically,” Hawks explained. “I can’t hear when they’re away from me, but I can still use them to pick up noise because that causes vibrations I can feel. That’s not something you can just guess at. Come at your Quirk, both of them, sideways.”

“Oh… wowthatissocoolitwouldrequirealot… wait, no One for All.” Izuku frowned, closing his eyes as All Might chuckled. Hawks sat down on a bench, drawing a look from Recovery Girl.

“Safest place to hide right now. I don’t want to deal with people clamouring for my attention. I’ve got a lot to think on.” Hawks explained. Izuku tuned it out, thinking. Come at it sideways.

All right so One for All is a stockpiling Quirk. It can stockpile strength and apparently Quirks which I can access due to my original Quirk, which… helps me understand Quirks. I have a that work will lose some meaning by the end of today. Though it does explain my interest in Quirks though it… doesn’t feel right thinking that it’s because of my Quirk I’m good at analysis… probably my Quirk actually poking me. It gave me interest but the rest is me. So… analyze One for All. It’s a stockpile where I needed to build muscle mass to contain it inside my body, and I break limbs when I focus…

“I am an idiot,” Izuku announced, eyes opening.

“Completely obvious?” Hawks asked in amusement.

“I need to activate it in my whole body.” Izuku groaned. “Not just a limb!” The rest of the room traded wide-eyed looks, all wondering why they hadn’t thought of that either.

They were all idiots.

-0-

Baby Got Back @queenofyouall

So like… Aldera. I just heard sixteen different stories about it. What’s the truth?

Sugar Honey Iced Tea @iwillfightgodandallmight

It’s a hell hole. I used to work there, and tried everything to get people to pay attention to it.

Baby Got Back @queenofyouall

Really? Wow, why did no one look into it?

Sugar Honey Iced Tea @iwillfightgodandallmight

[Picture of a bookshelf with a book circled in red]

Cause every fucking time we tried MLA sympathizers would come and see this utter horseshit.

Baby Got Back @queenofyouall

MLA!? What?! Aren’t they a terrorist group?!

Sugar Honey Iced Tea @iwillfightgodandallmight

No, because they’re defunct. But I sure as hell have theories that might prove otherwise.

Sugar Honey Iced Tea @iwillfightgodandallmight

Ha, guess who just got contacted by the police and a few heroes. Good, let’s blow this shit up.

-0-

Izuku stepped out of the infirmary to stop. He closed his eyes. “How many people am I going to almost run into?” he asked, unable to help it. Tokoyami chuckled, shrugging as Dark Shadow popped out of him, cheering.

“Midoriya!” the shadow being said, leaning towards Izuku.

“Cease, Dark Shadow,” Tokoyami scolded. “The champion of the light is not yet a partner.”

“Yet, huh?” laughed Hawks, coming out of the infirmary. Tokoyami jerked back, eyes wide as Shouji and Asui stopped short behind him.

“Hawks?” Shouji asked in surprise.

“Are you here to keep an eye on Izu-chan, kero?” Asui asked with a croak. Izuku blinked. Right she asked him to call her Tsu. Her words got grumpy looks from the two boys as Dark Shadow pouted.

“Sort of. Here to avoid a lot of the press.” Hawks explained. “You guys did good out there. Great teamwork!” he grinned. “I know a lot of us heroes saw and made a note of it, even if you might not have made it higher.” The trio beamed.

“Indeed,” All Might said, not bothering to puff up. “We all did.”

“Thank you…” Tokoyami looked at him in confusion. All Might shrugged with a smirk. Izuku looked at him in confusion though the hero waved him off.

“Young Midoriya, I believe that young Todoroki and Uraraka are still fighting. Perhaps head to the waiting room?” All Might said to Izuku, who gave a nod.

“Right,” he said. He paused before looking at his classmates. “Umm… did Sero…”

“He told us you were okay with flirting,” Shouji said, shrugging. “But I think right now you shouldn’t be too distracted.”

“Yeah, kero.” Tsu agreed. “We came this way ‘cause the ice was making me really tired, and Tokoyami wanted to come with me. Shouji followed…” she peaked at Shouji, who chuckled.

“Wanted to see if I could see Midoriya even if I wouldn’t flirt.” Shouji’s words caused Izuku to go bright red, covering his face. Shouji laughed a little as All Might sighed.

“He’s going to lose so much blood to the face after this….”

“At least we know he’ll be very popular in the future.” Hawks joked. “Unless he does go underground like he does in a few of the versions, it’ll be useful.”

“Izu-chan is cute enough; he wouldn’t need that,” Tsu said.

“Yeah!” Dark Shadow cheered. “Fumi had a crush way before this-”

“Dark Shadow!” Tokoyami shouted. Izuku responded by moving away from them, face in his hands.

He would end up with a permanent blush; he just knew it.

-0-

Fuyumi: I don’t know what to think…

Natsuo: Touya is alive, Shouto might have a great husband in the future, and Dad is finally being punished?

Fuyumi: Natsuo!

Natsuo: Fuyumi. You’re a teacher! Would you make your students forgive their parents for what Endeavour did to us?

Fuyumi: No. And I got told by my boss I have to go to therapy before I can come back to work.

Natsuo: Oh… well, no offence but good. You need it.

Fuyumi: I just want to be a family.

Natsuo: We can, you just need to understand for us that Endeavour is and will never be our father. Not anymore.

Fuyumi: He’s mine…

Natsuo: and I’m happy he is. But again: you have to accept things are never going to be picture-perfect.

Fuyumi: I’ll try.

-0-

Momo observed the field, Jirou and Koda beside her, muttering to one another. By Momo’s count, everyone but the three of them, along with Kaminari and Kirishima, had interacted with Izuku after the calvarybattlel. Kirishima had gone off to check on Bakugou, though he came back unable to find the boy.

“Oh, I hope things turn out well for Midoriya,” Momo worried. The battle with Uraraka included the girl throwing the glacier Todoroki tried to trap her in right back at the dual-haired boy. It caused quite a mess, though in the end, Todoroki came out the winner. Momo worried for her classmates in the infirmary and the next fight.

“Iz… Midoriya will be fine,” Jirou voiced, correcting herself quickly. “Todoroki saw the same future as us; ten to one, he’ll knock him out.”

“Or he could win, kero,” Asui remarked as she looked over the field. The rest of the class glanced at her in surprise. “He could. I don’t know if he fully can- Todoroki is strong, kero. But Izu-chan is gonna be number one, right?”

“Yes, but he can’t use his Quirk well right now,” argued Momo.

“When we were heading to the infirmary, I overheard him figure out what he was doing wrong,” Shouji said. “It’s… really short notice, though. So who knows.”

“I hope he doesn’t hurt himself too bad,” Kouda signed. Kaminari laughed a little.

“Well, maybe that might help whatever issue Todoroki has to get through his head?” he shrugged at the dangerous looks shot at him. “Look; apparently, something went down here for them. We need to see what happens.”

“I bet it’s going to be MANLY as hell!” Kirishima chirped, even though his eyes were strained. Probably due to Bakugou Momo thought. Frankly, after what they learned and saw in the one future where Izuku lost his leg, she had no more interest in the blonde. Perhaps he could become a hero still. Time would tell, but Momo certainly wouldn’t be working with him. Petty? Perhaps. But she felt it more practical than not. Bakugou would have a sharp hill to climb now, with a few futures showing his behaviour and how it could impact the people around him. This would always hang over him even if he became a better person. In a way, it was a horrible punishment for him to be forever affected by this. He did become a hero in many futures. In one, he even made up with Izuku. But…

“Our final match!” cheered Present Mic, distracting Momo from her thoughts. She needed to focus on the field. Izuku would be fighting Todoroki, after all! “Our future number one Midoriya Izuku versus the hot and cold teenager Todoroki Shouto!” the two boys walked out onto the field, Izuku’s hand bandaged.

“Oh, I hope he’s all right.” worried Uraraka. “Midoriya is strong! But…”

“He’s not in control of his Quirk yet,” Momo murmured.

On the field, Izuku took a breath, facing Todoroki, who looked at him with a mostly blank face. A slight hint of worry was in the teen’s eyes, but mostly determination shone through.

“I won’t use his fire,” Todoroki declared, uncaring of the mics.

“It’s not his; it’s your fire,” snapped back Izuku. Todoroki blinked in confusion before Izuku charged him as soon as the start was announced. A stomp of his foot created a wave of ice heading towards Izuku, who lifted a hand to flick at it, shattering the ice. Todoroki glared, sending more out only for another flick to occur. Red lightning flickered around Izuku’s arm, slowly changing to green as the lightning moved over him.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Todoroki yelled, shooting more ice. Izuku flicked some fingers again, wincing. However, they didn’t break.

“Strained them now,” Izuku breathed out. “I’ll have to figure this out better, but right now? I think it’s enough.” He locked eyes with Todoroki. “I’m going to get you to use your Quirk to its full potential.”

“I WON’T USE HIS FIRE!” Todoroki yelled, more ice flying out, though the teen shivered thanks to the production of more and more ice.

“And it’s YOUR QUIRK, NOT HIS!” Izuku yelled, destroying the ice once more. Todoroki blinked, eyes wide right before he burst into flame.

-0-

Deer’’s Number 1 Fangoil @lightupmyworlddeer

Dekiru just broke like his fingers in order to get Todoroki to use his fire side. Holy shit. AND THEN HE PULLS OUT OH HEY I FIGURED THIS OUT.

August Falke is Bae @nerdforheroics

“It’s YOUR QUIRK, not HIS.” Good point kid. And holy shit!! The final part!! Just BOOM! Explosion!

Deer’’s Number 1 Fangoil @lightupmyworlddeer

Yeah. Wow this was a good year.

-0-

He was standing on the podium. Midoriya Izuku, the Quirkless freak, was on the stage for the UA sports festival. He was in second place. Beat to hell and back, yes- Recovery Girl told him an excellent doctor reached out to offer to do the surgeries to fix the injuries that had occurred from being thrown out of the arena due to the explosion. He’d head there the next day. But Izuku was in second place.

Tears were heavy in his eyes as he stood there. Todoroki stood on the top pier, a small smile on his face. Shinsou and Uraraka were on the third one, beaming at the crowds.

“To deliver the medals, we have a special guest!” Present Mic was saying over the intercom. Midnight cracked her whip.

“Give it up for ALL MIGHT!” she cheered as the man bounded down from the stands. The stadium went a little nuts in cheering. However, they stopped when the man began to steam. Izuku’s mouth dropped open as All Might let his muscled form fall, the skinny version all that remained.

“Ha!” All Might laughed at seeing the expressions on their faces. “Apologies, but I felt that I could stop hiding this form with so much new information revealed.” He winked, the camera catching it easily. “With my Quirk passed on already, my injury from a few years back is slowly claiming my remaining time in my big form. Might as well save it for heroics!” He smiled and turned to Midnight, who blinked before offering the medals. He took the bronze ones wordlessly.

“Uraraka, you pushed hard today!” All Might said, ignoring the mutterings of the crowd effortlessly. “You truly showed skill and determination!” He slid the bronze medal over her head and stepped back with a smile. Uraraka smiled up at him, eyes shocked but pleased. “Young Shinsou, you showed the world that your Quirk does not define you,” All Might announced, turning to the purple-haired teenager. Shinsou gave a smile, cheeks flushed as he received the medal. “Keep it up!” All Might praised before he grabbed the silver medal from Midnight. Izuku felt his face warm, beaming up at All Might.

“Young Midoriya…” the hero paused and then laughed. “Ages ago, when I met you and realized that you were the perfect successor, I never expected what happened.” All Might slipped the medal around Izuku’s neck before hugging him. “You did it, my boy; you screamed you’re here, even with the weight of the future on your shoulders.” Izuku’s eyes teared up, and he barely heard All Might move to give Todoroki his medal.

He was too busy crying, a smile on his face and warm cheeks.

He’d done it.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

-I can’t remember where I saw it, and frankly if it turns out canon I’m laughing but I was grabbed by the idea that AFO purposely fucks with OFA users as part of a huge game because he’s bored. I ran with it. (I’m also ignoring all ‘AFO wants shiggy’s body’ stuff. That’s boring)

-The convo between Hero Ficstastic and Drama Lama is inspired by some real life events. I put my long term project POTSOD on hiatus due to being exhausted by people commenting on other fics ‘when will you update POTSOD’. I THEN got a comment on another fic: I know you turned off anon and I totally get it for the other fic but I’m going to GUSH about the other fic on this one! Yes, they were in the same series. But like… it hurts seeing that. It really does. So… yeah. To all the anons/commenters who do that: don’t. Is this petty? Yes. But I’m just so tired…

-Nejire is a top student, she’s not dumb. She is exciteable and cheerful, however I firmly believe she is more shrewd then we think.

-Hawks is here! And writing him is fucking hard ain’t gonna lie. He’s both laid back but a workaholic. He’s smart, and I wanted to show he has in fact realized how fucked the Commission is, and I wanted him to be a catalyst for Izuku. (Mostly cause I think when we get to his part in the future for Izuku it’ll be funny as fuck)

-Also, how Hawks knew it was him in the TodoDeku version was due to Miu’s name. It’s a name he plans on using for any children he would have. Paired with his own name? Yeah he knows.

-I would like to offer that everyone in MHA are dumbasses for not connecting that Izuku needs to circulate the Quirk through his whole body. This also is why RG doesn’t go: I won’t heal him anymore. Because she recognizes her own eff up here and goes: yeah we all failed.

-I think the MLA plot was dumb as hell in the manga, but it is useful for a plot device. I also would like to point out that the Destro book was being sold and known to be being sold. So in my eyes, MLA is not considered a threat anymore, and thus people aren’t as on edge. Now though we have a whistle blower deciding to raise hell on twitter.

-Look Izuku managed to mostly get Full Cowl down in two days while working with Gran Torino. Kid is fucking smart.

-I don’t know when the next part will be out. I plan on focusing on original work for NaNoWriMo but I also created a miniature challenge I might try to do while working on my original stuff (plus you know school and work). It’s a Izuku has a bunch of soulmates AU. However I do plan on also posting throughout the month the rewrite of the beginning of an old series. I posted the first chapter yesterday; for those interested it is a Fem!Izuku series where she needs to choose a spouse due to various bullshit and we go through the path of various options. It’s called The Beginning for those interested. I have it fully rewritten hence why it is being posted.

#bnha #bnha au #photos and videos #midoriya izuku #boku no hero academia

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aenaxes · 3 years ago

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OMG ok for the 200 follower celebration (based on your smoking post) PLZZZ write sharing a spice blunt with cross or any batcher of your choosing I would simply die 😩💅🏻❤️

vapor trails

[crosshair & hunter x f!reader] you don't really run with the fett twins' crowd, but you find yourself at one of their parties anyway (in reference to this post lol)

warnings: college!au, recreational drug use, suggestive themes, but consent is sexy & mandatory & sober babes

w/c: 3.8k

a/n: anon, you ask for one batcher, but why not two? thank you for enabling me nonnie & @mallr4ts lol (im so sorry to all the previous requests for the event, this one has just been needling in my brain all day and i had to get it out hsdfs)

event details here! requests are open until july 4th!

You don’t know much about the Fett twins.

They’re something like campus legends even though they’re only a year your senior and at the tail end of their fourth years. But as much as you’ve heard their names slung around in weekend plans and excited chatter, you’ve never once met them, much less seen them yourself. Between idling class whispers and dining hall conversations, all you can piece together from the rumors is that: one, they’re from a big family (you’ve heard anywhere from two to twelve other brothers, yikes); and two, as much as they work hard (because the venture capital and pre-professorial tracks seem rigorous enough), they play even harder.

It helps that they apparently own one of the biggest apartments off campus, one in which you find yourself hopelessly and miserably lost. And overdressed.

Great.

It hadn’t occurred to you that your roommate, who is nowhere to be seen, had been dressing up for her girlfriend, and that most people who had half a mind would wear something comfortable that could withstand a few spilled drinks and ash. So seeing the rest of the room in rumpled tees and sweats has you and your little black dress seeking out the nearest wall as you fiddle with your questionably sweet cup of margarita mixer.

You feel like a first year, and it sucks.

But for once, with everyone too busy mingling amongst themselves over the heavy thrum of some mumble rap beat, you manage to slip by unnoticed.

Every now and then, you dart your eyes around the ever shifting landscape of faces in the dim room, looking for even the vaguest familiarity that might let you feign being tipsy and join a group for the night. But every time you try, there’s no luck.

Fuck, you haven’t even seen anyone here before.

But there might be a god watching out for you yet when the crowd shifts just enough that you catch sight of the couch, and on it, someone you suspect to be one of the twins as he greets a few girls with a disinterested nod.

Emboldened, but mostly nervous that in the crowd of bodies and red solo cups you’re still helplessly alone, you push off the wall and squeeze past huddled cliques of conversation to make for the dark couch.

By the platinum bleached hair and big-name consulting group quarter zip, Crosshair—at least you think it’s him—lounges over the couch. He isn’t the only body on the suede seats, but he keeps to himself, his head dipped low as he works one hand over a small metal canister in his other palm.

If you weren’t having luck with the other nameless faces around you, maybe the Fett twin would keep you company—at least until your roommate came back to find you (if she did). And worst case, you’d just slink back to your dorm and mope until your roommate apologized to you with your favorite overpriced smoothie bowl the day after.

Mustering every ounce of courage you have, you plant your feet by the couch and finally speak.

"Is your name actually Crosshair?" you ask.

The man on the couch pauses, his motions stilling over the small metal cylinder in his palms, and he lifts his chin just enough to flick his eyes up towards the sound of your voice.

You always thought the girls in your droning 9AM gen-ed were wildly exaggerating his hype for their own devices, squealing over his (apparently) brooding charm and sharp looks to nip at his stash for free. But for all the vague haze surrounding your perception of the twins, you never thought that they were telling the truth.

If you had been in broad daylight under the incandescent glow of your creaky lecture hall lights, you might have called him cocky, almost haughty, how he meets you with an unreadable look for having interrupted him. But in the purple LEDs and heavy haze of vape juice and shitty tequila, he’s captivating, all dark eyes and perfectly lit skin, marked only by the needle-thin design tattooed over the right side of his face and a worn wooden toothpick bitten between his teeth.

You swallow down the dry lump in your throat when you catch him flick his eyes from your face, down the short length of your dress, and back up again.

"Smoke with me; maybe you'll find out," he drawls, toothpick bobbing as he speaks. He twists the cylinder once and offers you a wry smirk. And when you stay, speechless but there all the same, Crosshair scoots to the side and pats the narrow space between him and the couch arm, inviting you close.

"I've never smoked before," you admit a bit shyly as you drop down beside him. Your dress hikes up your thigh, and you shiver when your skin presses up against the soft denim of his jeans.

"Not even cigs?"

You shake your head. And you tell yourself that when he leans close and brushes his shoulder up against your arm, that he’s only doing it because someone’s boosted the bass, and you can’t hear him over the reverb.

"Well, good thing I'm here, yeah?"

He gives the metal canister a final twist and sets it down on the coffee table before you. Swapping the canister for a small brown sleeve, you watch in a daze as he pulls a semi-transparent leaflet from the folder and tears a strip of cardstock straight from its flap. He has pianist fingers, you think wistfully, neatly kept nails and slender grace, and you wonder if he’ll entertain you if you ask to compare your hand to his.

“What’s your name?”

You scrabble back to the present at the sound of his voice. “Uh, y/n,” you offer.

“Well, y/n,” he says with a soft laugh, having caught on to your daydreaming. “Step one, you fold your filter.”

You nod along absently as Crosshair artfully crimps the thick paper into a neat roll. As if there isn’t thirty-some odd people crammed into his apartment, he quietly takes you step by step, offering you the filter, the paper, then the contents of the canister (a grinder, he explains) like it’s a game of show and tell. But with every piece he places into your hands, you gravitate closer, closer, until you’re flush against his arm and practically hanging over his side to watch as he gently taps a line of bud over the paper.

“Here, let me give you a better look,” Crosshair says.

You expect him to bring the neat line of bud to you, but when nothing comes, you look up and find him waiting for you, one arm open in invitation as the other pats once on the dark denim of his thigh.

“Uh—”

“Sit,” he says as if you haven’t just met him fifteen minutes ago. “Front row seats if you want ‘em.”

On one hand, you barely know Crosshair outside of the rumors you hear on campus. On the other hand, he’s a genuinely pleasant person, careful to accommodate for your boundaries and offering a snide playfulness that’s banished your nerves from earlier in the night.

He’s also really fucking hot.

“Okay,” you murmur, and you let him wrap his arm around your waist and tug you onto his lap. And he’s right. Perched over his thighs, you see with perfect clarity (and without the strain in your neck) as he gently folds the paper over the mound of bud and carefully twists. It’s the prettiest joint you’ve ever seen—though it might be because it’s the only one you’ve seen.

"Final touch," Crosshair's voice rumbles over your back, shooting straight into your core as he lifts the paper's vellum edge to your lips. “Lick it for me.”

Since you sat down with him, you’ve only been the passenger, nodding along as Crosshair’s long, nimble fingers creased over filter paper and patiently pointed out things like the stray pistils in his baggie and the keef gathered at the bottom of his grinder for if you really want to get fucked up. And even though you aren’t doing much (because licking paper doesn’t really seem too crazy), it’s a step forward from the comfortable rhythm that had settled between you, and you twist around in his lap to shoot him an uncertain glance.

“Just,” Crosshair flicks his tongue over his lower lip, flashing a brief glimpse of a ball piercing towards your wide eyes. And if you weren’t so flustered, you might have recognized the coy playfulness in his gaze. “Give it a lick, right over the edge.”

“I—uh, what if I—” you stammer.

“You’re not gonna mess this up, darling,” Crosshair chuckles. If his hand squeezing brief over your waist wasn’t enough to bring heat searing over the tops of your ears, his next words, crooned low and breathy into your ear, certainly do. “You’re a smart girl. You can do it.”

"My brother giving you trouble?"

Another voice cuts through the din of the party, sparing you your stammering nerves as you whip your head up in its general direction. You’re greeted with the sight of his brother, peering down on you as he takes a sip from his cup.

“You’re such a killjoy,” Crosshair mutters, drawing his arm tighter around your waist as he jabs the half-rolled joint to where Hunter sprawls down onto the couch beside him. “No, I’m not being a creep. I’m teaching our pretty underclassman here how to roll.”

Oh.

Heat rushes over your cheeks, and you can’t decide whether you want to shrink into yourself or bask in it and beg for more.

He called you pretty.

“With her in your lap,” Hunter snorts into his cup.

“It was your idea to invite your entire fucking rugby team. Where else would we do it?”

“I’m so sorry he’s like this,” Hunter laughs, tilting his head and looking up at you through his (unfairly) long lashes. Where you thought Crosshair’s tattoo was bold, Hunter’s practically blows him out of the water, a well-worn swath of ink on the left half of his face, curving into neatly stylized teeth right at the edge of his lips. “I’m Hunter.”

Huh, maybe you do have a thing for tattoos.

“Y/n,” you squeak. “It’s, um—it’s nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he says as he offers you an easy smile. “Has my baby brother been treating you right?”

“God, two fucking minutes,” Crosshair snaps. You hear the embarrassment seeping from the vitriol, and it strikes you like a shot to the head that he’s trying to play cool in front of you. “I come out two minutes after you and—”

“We’re fraternal, and I got all the oxygen in the womb. Explains why he has awful people skills,” Hunter fake-whispers loud enough for Crosshair to hear, and you giggle as the other man groans from behind you.

“No, he’s been really nice,” you say softly once you realize that you’ve been laughing a little too loud. “He’s teaching me about weed.” It sounds juvenile when you say it, awkward and clumsy on your tongue. It’s a dead giveaway that has Hunter’s smile mellowing into something soft.

“Your first time?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, Cross here’s high as shit at least four hours every day. Says it helps him do the math. I hate to say it, but you’re in good hands.”

“You try running a nonlinear regression sober,” Crosshair snorts. “Anyways, we were just finishing up this joint before you decided to kill the vibe.”

Crosshair lifts the half-rolled joint back up to your chin, and this time, he leans forward and presses his chest close against your back as the playful snark leaves his tone, in its wake, something patient and calm as his voice rumbles by your ear.

“You gonna help me finish the job, sweet girl?”

You surprise yourself when the initial trepidation vanishes as you tip your chin down and stick out your tongue. Maybe you’re showboating now that you have an audience, feeling Hunter’s dark eyes on your lips when you touch the tip of your tongue out over the edge.

Whether it’s your lip gloss or the fine crumbs of bud stuck to the roll paper that fills your mouth with something earthy and sweet, you can’t say. All you know is they’re both following you with that intense intent, the bass and blend of voices faded out around you; just you in Crosshair’s lap and Hunter pretending to care about the drink in his hand as you lift your tongue off the far corner of the paper and close your lips.

“Good job,” Hunter muses, and you’re pretty certain he’s not talking about the joint when you feel his gaze boring into you alone.

The smell of smoke pulls you out of Hunter’s gravity, and you look back in front of you to see Crosshair snap a scuffed metal lighter shut and toss it onto the coffee table. He brings the joint back down in front of you, blowing a neat stream of whitish gray smoke past your ear.

“You know how to pull?” Crosshair asks, and his chin brushes over your bare shoulder as he speaks. He’s so close. You can smell the burn, acrid and sour, but it doesn’t matter that it doesn’t smell like some bubblegum vape when you feel his breaths curling over your skin. You just want more.

Mutely, you shake your head.

“Mm, you know how to shotgun?” Hunter offers, and you hear Crosshair huff laugher from behind you. “Might be easier for your first try.”

You shake your head again.

“It’s,” Hunter pauses, and his brows knit close as he thinks for a moment. “It’s kind of like a kiss. But not really. I take a hit and you catch my smoke. That sound okay?”

You don’t think it matters that someone’s hit shuffle on the playlist, filling the room with a hard electronic beat that might have otherwise drowned out all sound. All you hear is your heart pounding in your ears as you nod and watch Hunter lift the filter to his lips and inhale deep, then pass the joint back to Crosshair.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, white trails of smoke curling over his upper lip as he lifts one hand to cup over the base of your neck.

“Open,” Crosshair whispers.

Wordlessly, you obey. Your lips part just as Hunter pulls close, so close you feel the heat of his skin spreading warm over your cheeks, and blows a soft stream of bitter smoke into your mouth. It can’t be more than a few seconds, but all the while, you can’t seem to tear your eyes from his.

“Breathe in, deep,” you hear Crosshair instruct as he begins to rub one thumb over the curve of your hip.

The smoke is thick, sluicing down your throat and filling your lungs like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s not bad, just new, and pressed between the twins over the couch, you think it just might have been worth being ditched by your roommate earlier in the night. But your lungs ache, and you slowly exhale, watching as your vision fogs with a loose cloud of smoke until your chest feels clear again.

“And you didn’t even cough,” Hunter smiles. His calloused fingertips follow the slope of your neck, lingering one moment more before he pulls away. And you aren’t sure if the low buzzing in your fingertips is the weed or their combined warmth as Hunter rubs over your knee and Crosshair leans his head against your neck. “Good girl.”

“Wanna do it again,” you whisper as the buzz begins to crawl up your neck, fizzling around your temples as you lean your cheek over where Crosshair nuzzles into your shoulder.

“With him or me?” Crosshair murmurs, his lips brushing over your skin.

“You,” you say dreamily, and Hunter laughs, a sound that suddenly seems so far away as you tip your head and press close against Crosshair’s silver hair.

Crosshair leans into your touch, pressing his cheek up against your neck one last time before he’s lifting his head and bringing the joint to his lips. You hear the hiss of his inhale, smoke curling up through the narrow body of the joint as the charred end glows warm beside you.

And instead of Hunter’s approach, level with you, Crosshair looms above you, meeting your wide eyes with something of a fond smile. Dragging his hand up your chest, he follows the line of your neck and holds snug over your chin. He squeezes softly, and your jaw falls slack, lips parted in a soft ‘o’ as he dips low. He's closer than Hunter as you feel his mouth just brush over yours and breathe smoke over your tongue.

This time, it’s easier.

You swallow down the smoke and hold, just a beat longer than before. But both Crosshair and Hunter notice as your lips stay parted, and they share a soft laugh that has you exhaling smoke and pride all at once when you finally relax your diaphragm and breathe out.

“Fast learner,” Crosshair muses, nosing up under your jaw as you sink back against his chest.

You mumble incoherently, chasing his touch as the high creeps heavy and warm from your chest to your collar and settles at the back of your throat. It anchors you, molding you up against Crosshair who feels nothing short of perfect as he circles his arms loose over your waist.

You turn your head to thank Hunter when you distantly register him pressing a cool cup into your hand (water, you think you hear him say), but the words slip back down into your throat, your eyelids suddenly unbearably heavy and coarse over your blurry vision.

“You wanna lay down?” Hunter offers, and his voice comes to you like you’re underwater, warped and bubbling past the din of the party around you.

You're pretty sure you nod.

For a few moments, you catch traces of an unintelligible exchange between the twins, only aware of the rumble of Crosshair’s voice at your back, and then you’re being lifted up off the couch, the music and raucous laughter fading behind you.

A door opens, squeaking half-shut, and you wince as a light clicks on beside you. Whoever was carrying you sets you down on something soft and cool, and you sway as the light dims and you settle into your seat.

You’re on a bed, you think.

Crosshair’s, judging by the shock of light hair that you can make out through your lashes. He helps you into a worn tee that reaches past the short hem of your dress, and you wiggle into it with a soft whine, holding it tight.

But where you expect a familiar weight to dip down next to you and pull you close, your eyes fly open when you see his figure turn away from you and towards the neon lights of the party outside.

“You aren’t staying?” It's the most coherent you've been through your first high.

“Not tonight,” Crosshair says softly. He turns back towards you and reaches up to fix the strap of your dress as you sit on his bed. “Baby’s first tokes got you all dopey. Right now, what you need is this,” and he presses a plastic bottle of vitamin water he’s seemingly produced out of nowhere into your palm. “This,” he adds, pressing your phone into your other hand. “And a good night’s sleep.”

“And what if I say I need you, too?” you pout.

Some part of you—the conscious part locked away in the back of your skull—bangs up against the hazy high at the crown of your head because when you’re good and sober and when Crosshair inevitably turns you down, you won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror for the next semester.

But he breaks into a smile that crinkles at the corners of his eyes before he leans down to press his lips to your forehead. It’s just a split-second of warm, chapstick-soft lips on your skin, but it floods you with an indescribable good from the top of your head all the way down to your toes.

And as high as you are right now, you have a hell of a hunch that the flutter in your chest is going to stay, even when the room stops wobbling around you.

“When you’re all sobered up in the morning, we’ll make you breakfast, and we’ll figure it out from there,” Crosshair says after he’s pulled back, reaching up to smooth his palm over your hair. “Sound like a plan?”

You nod, probably with a little too much enthusiasm, but you’re rewarded with another low chuckle that’s practically music to your ears. His hand gentle and firm over your shoulder, Crosshair guides you down onto the bed and pulls the covers up to your chin.

“Now text your roomie so she doesn’t call the cops on us, get some sleep, and drink all of that, okay?”

“Okay,” you respond.

“Good girl.”

And when the lights click out, you curl into Crosshair’s pillow, breathing in cold, fresh notes of his cologne, and then you’re asleep.

You climb out of bed the next morning, your minidress rumpled under a long shirt. It's not like a hangover, no, you just find yourself a bit lightheaded and throat parched, and the disorientation makes your head spin as you’re greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and something savory—

Your roommate doesn’t wake up earlier than you, and she can’t cook for shit. And why were your sheets grey? Whose shirt were you—

Oh.

Fuck.

You practically burst out of Crosshair’s bedroom, and you’re not sure what you expected, but somehow you hadn’t expected to see Hunter sipping mildly on a mug of coffee while Crosshair pushes something around in a pan over their kitchen range.

“Mornin,’” Hunter offers you a small wave, and reaches for a third mug on the countertop. “Wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee so we just made it black.”

“What happened last night?” you gasp. If you weren’t so panicked, you’re certain the sight of them sporting nothing but grey sweats would have been your only concern, but you’ve just woken up with foggy memories and the slimy dread of anxiety that follows a blackout night.

“Easy, easy,” Crosshair assures you as he steps away from the stovetop. “Nothing happened after we smoked. You took, like, two hits, and you were so hazy you couldn’t remember your dorm number, so we put you to bed, and I slept out in the living room. Fetts are wild but we’re not scumbags, promise.”

And judging from the throw blanket sliding off the edge of the couch cushions, you’re fairly certain you can believe him. Relief floods your chest.

“Oh thank God,” you sigh, and your shoulders sag as the weight of panic sloughs off your back.

They both laugh softly, the sudden tension lifting from the bright morning light, and you can’t help but join in. And when that rosy relief gives way to silence again, it’s Crosshair who speaks next.

“So, you staying for breakfast?”

“Can I borrow some actual clothes first?”

“Done deal.”

#fun fact: my signature party trick is flirting with a guy and then stealing his blunt ✌️😗#thinking about how schlorbe n i agreed crosshair listens to souncloud mumble rap :/#its ok i kiss him anyways #hc that crosshair’s an econ/finance bro and hunter’s a history major hehe #sequel series: crosshair goes venture capital (gross)#tech's probably at like the space equivalent of mit or something #and i will Die on the hill that wrecker's super smart with kinesiology #crosshair x reader #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #anon #yaej.writes

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andhumanslovedstories · 4 years ago

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I’ve been working on this theory lately about my own media consumption that I’ll call representational contrarianism because I’m tickled at giving it a fancy sounding name. And it’s like this: given the choice between media with canonical queer characters and media that has characters you could argue are queer, I’ll default to the latter nine times out of ten.

And it’s like. Why?

(And yeah, this is a post about Supernatural, but it’s not ABOUT Supernatural, you know? Also everything is about Supernatural except Supernatural which is about umm truly who fucking knows.)

So, for me (and consider that the big disclaimer for this post) queer characters created by queer people either cut too close to the truth, or they’re disappointing. If they’re truthful, then the truth, through the warped lens of my own insecurities and uncertainties, becomes “yes Sarah this is who you are” or “no Sarah you ain’t this.” If they’re disappointing, if I don’t like them or I don’t like the romance or I like some other character better, I feel like I’m letting someone down--not always sure who, just someone, maybe it’s myself, maybe it’s the Community, maybe it’s this fictional person--and further, this becomes another tick in a column labeled “you’re straight and you’ve always been straight, you hurt gay people by thinking otherwise, and also everyone’s laughing at you.” Which is a lot of pressure to put on kindle lesbian romance novels I picked up for $1.99, but that’s what I feel.

The important thing is, these characters and stories are tests I’m very capable of failing.

And queer people created by straight people--look, it’s not universally true, but look at the shitty way explicit homosexuality is treated on Supernatural (a joke! flat! background! nothing!) versus the absolutely inadvertent queer-coding they did with Dean, Sam, and Cas. They wrote three distinct queer masculine allegories by complete fucking accident. They couldn’t have done that on purpose. They don’t think gay people are people in the same way that straight people are people. They think that they’re Gay and then a little later that they are people. (And does my hyperfixation on this issue mean that I approach gay characters the same way as shitty straight writers? Hahahahaha shut the fuck up I’m almost in therapy again, this is all on the docket.)

Queer characters created by queer people are a litmus test, and queer characters created by straight people are pandering. And you don’t really know about the creators that often, and they shouldn’t have to list their identities on the back of the book (although catch me scanning acknowledgements for the words wife, partner, people thanked with love but identified only as an initial, like deciphering how this book might make me feel is a test I can cheat on, but what do you do with a writers room? Memorize the gay ones if you can, cross-reference who wrote what eps?). So I’m comparing myself against these characters (bad choice) in the hopes of learning about myself while also hyperanalyzing these characters in a way that would be insanely unfair to do to a real person (are they Truly Gay? are they Truly Good Representation? if I don’t like them, is it their fault or my fault or their story’s fault or God’s fault or or or or or or or). So I end up evaluating this central question about myself--literally the question Who Am I--against characters (again, a bad choice) that I swivel wildly between believing they are better at being gay than me (because they might have been written by queer people) or are worse at being gay than me (because they might have been written by straight people).

(I know this is horribly reductive in regards to representation and own voices and good writing. You don’t want to see how long this post was with nuance.)

And let’s do the ultimate thought experiment: let’s say they did Supernatural good. And now Dean is bisexual! Yay! Canonically! They decide this in season four and he comes out and maybe he always knew or maybe this is all new to him, whatever, it’s all handled fantastically. GLAAD awards for everyone.

If Dean was gay, canonically gay, if he had what I do not--a cast of writers, a voice of God saying definitely, yes, yes, he is sexually and romantically attracted to multiple genders, he is Canon now, there was an interview in Entertainment Weekly about it and everything--then he is gayer by default than me--no writers, no God, no all hands meeting when everyone nods solemnly and concludes, let’s give the people what they want: this one’s a dyke. And he slips somewhere I can’t follow, into that tantalizing paradise called Certainty, and he learns the gay lingo, and he learns the hidden stereotypes only gay people get to know about other gay people, and he unlocks the Shared History and the Inside Jokes, and he speaks to the other people in the club with the knowledge that all of them deserve to be there because they know that they deserve to be there.

(Meanwhile, I am not in the club, I am instead down at the courthouse where I get called forward before the Gender Judges who reviewed the emergency application I made in the middle of the night, and they ask, “It says here you want to change your name?” and I say, “Actually no, I thought about it but the idea of being called anything other than Sarah genuinely horrifies me,” and they ask, “But you did say you were considering experimenting with your pronouns?” and I say, “Again, no, I’ve toyed with the thought but the idea of me being referred to as anything other than she/her viscerally disgusts me,” and they ask, “Okay but what is it that horrifies and disgusts you: the thought of being identified as someone you aren’t, or making a fuss about your identity in a way that draws attention to it?” and being unable to come up with an answer, I throw myself out the nearest window and start running, also causing me to miss my scheduled meeting with the Sexuality forum where we were going to litigate whether I was allowed to use dyke like that a paragraph back.)

(We don’t have time to get into gender. Just assume this all applies to gender stuff as well, and we’ll move on.)

But. If he’s not canonically anything, then he is as gay as I make him. In this daydream or that fanfic, we make the subtext text and here is a queer story, a gay story, a story about me as I would like to be seen and would like to be, and when I am done, I spray him off with some windex and wipe him down to factory settings. And then tomorrow there’s a different fantasy where he’s gay in a different way, a nuance, a tweak, a thousand variations on the same basic premise (what if this guy liked guys), and if I don’t like one, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t stick. It’s a novel written in sand. The appeal is that it’ll wash away. Why should he be any more sure than me?

Anyway, that’s why queerbaiting is good actually (joke).

#long post #sorry I mean long post (apologetic)#the digressions I cut out good god #anyway #my public diary #spn

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secretlittlerandezvous · 4 years ago

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A Day With The Benns - Jamie Benn

Summary: A look into the Benns household and a day spent with the family.

To the angel who requested this: From the bottom of my heart THANK YOU. I don't know who you are but I love you - for this request and for the beautiful words that came with it. It keeps making me feel like my heart will burst from happiness. I also thank you for giving me a reason to write about how I see my future life and what I hope for (this is basically me writing about my dream life) 💘🕊💫

Note: D/n means “daughter’s name”. The bedtime story is an excerpt from the book “Goodnight, hockey fans” by Andrew Larsen.

Words: 2487

“The truest, best love had nothing to do with luck. Luck was faithless, and worth little. True love wasn’t fancy, and it wasn’t magical, but simply true in every sense: honest, loyal and sure.” — Sonja Yoerg

It was that kind of a morning when you wake up and you know summer finally arrived. The sun was nicely warm and comforting unlike the stinging and cold winter sun, the birds were chirping in the trees from early in the morning and the air was fresh and warm. Y/n was woken up by the streaks of sunlight creeping into the bedroom through the window. She opened her eyes for a second and then closed them again and enjoyed the peace she felt which was quite unusual in the past few weeks. She didn’t hear a baby crying or the older kids running around the house wildly, she wasn’t woken up by them jumping on the bed to wake her up or by her husband leaving early for work. She loved her life and the chaos of it but it felt so nice to have a calm morning for once. After she fully enjoyed the silence, she opened her eyes, stretched her arms, and with a smile already present on her face she turned around to see her husband. Jamie had his back to her, but she certainly enjoyed the view at her husband’s muscular back and arms and she even blushed at the sight of him. But what warmed her heart, what couldn’t be beaten by his tattoos or muscles was the way he talked to their four months old baby girl. He had his arm protectively around her and Y/n found the contrast of his strong tattooed arm and her tiny little hand and fingers covered in a pink onesie absolutely adorable. He tickled her on her belly, and she smiled at him or watched him with her bright eyes with pure love. Y/n and the kids wished he could spend a little more time with them but they all understood why he couldn’t and whenever he was home he made the most of it and he dedicated his time to help his wife and to entertain the kids.

“Good morning my loves,” Y/n said happily as she looked over Jamie’s shoulder, kissed his cheek, and then smiled at their daughter who got even more excited when she noticed her.

“See? I told you mommy will wake up soon to give you a breakfast,” Jamie said to the little one. “Unfortunately, that’s the only thing I can’t do honey.” He said to Y/n and kissed her back.

“Not sure if anyone would want you to breastfeed babe,” she joked and took their daughter into her arms to feed her. “Are the kiddos awake?”

“Don’t think so,” Jamie mumbled. “I’ll go wake them up in a bit.” But first, he wanted to enjoy his wife’s company.

She was beautiful. He found her so beautiful. And he adored everything about her. Her kindness, the way she always loved him even though he could get a little grumpy sometimes. The way she handled everything with such ease. How smart she was. How supportive and understanding she was of him and his career. How she raised the kids, took care of them and their household on her own when he was away, and never used that against him. How good she was at her own job. How she created such a loving atmosphere in their family. Everything.

Jamie soon left to wake up the two older boys who even despite the complaints got out of the bed pretty quick and happily ran downstairs to help their dad in the kitchen. Y/n stayed behind a little to take care of D/n and to put herself together before she headed to the kitchen to join the rest of the pack. She heard laughter and giggles coming from there and she stopped and listened to the conversation they were having, she smiled to herself and enjoyed everything that was said.

Y/n often felt that she didn’t have enough time to pause and enjoy the present moment, but she was slowly learning to do so. The kids were growing up way too fast for her liking, life kept moving forward without a chance of it ever slowing down and she got sad at times when she realized how fast the kids will turn into adults. Y/n wanted to stay stuck in time, stay this old for a little longer and have the kids stay little longer, and have more time to process it all. But mostly she wanted a little more time off for Jamie who even though never said it out loud regretted not being there for them all the time. But they knew he loved them more than anything or anyone else in the world and that was enough.

“Can we go skating with you dad?” Their oldest son asked with hope, but he knew what answer was coming. He asked the same question, every morning when Jamie was home and about to go to practice. Each time the answer was no but he never gave up. The positive attitude towards everything and how he was never losing hope was Jamie’s favorite trait of their oldest son. It reminded him of Y/n.

“You know you can’t come with me buddy,” Jamie said with a sad voice. He hated saying no to him and he even wished he could bring the boys with him, but it was never convenient. “But I can ask the boys and we can go skating together on the weekend. What do you think?”

“I think we should hurry up,” Y/n joined the conversation, but no one heard her because the boys started screaming in excitement. She then sat down at the table and enjoyed the pancakes Jamie and the boys made for her and she helped their younger son with eating because he preferred to play with it rather than eating it. “Did you guys tell daddy where you’re going today?”

“No,” the older boy said. “We’re going to the zoo with the kindergarten.”

“And you wanted to miss the zoo to go skating? The zoo’s more fun for sure.” Jamie answered.

After the tasty breakfast, everyone headed to the bathroom to get ready for kindergarten and the day. Jamie helped them brush their teeth and hair, he even let them use a tiny little amount of his deodorant because both boys adored their dad and wanted to be just like him. It wasn’t rare for the boys to draw on their hands and pretend the drawings were real tattoos or them putting on Jamie’s hockey gear and playing hockey around the house. Y/n in the meantime prepared their outfits, soothed the crying baby, and managed to get dressed up without being disturbed.

“I’ll drop the kids at the kindergarten,” Jamie whispered as he wrapped his hands around Y/n’s waist from behind and hugged her tightly. “And I’ll try to get back home sooner than usual, and we can then do something fun.”

“Aren’t you amazing?” Y/n said happily, turning around to face Jamie, wrapping her hands around his neck, and kissing him before he got to answer. She expected a cocky answer from him, and she wanted to avoid it.

A few minutes later the whole family was outside their house, all of them about to head in different directions to different places. The boys were going to the kindergarten, Jamie to the arena and Y/n and D/n were going for a regular check-up at the doctor. “I love you boys,” said with a proud face and kissed all three boys goodbye.

“And we love you girls,” Jamie said, kissed Y/N and their daughter and the boys repeated after him before they all jumped into the car.

Later that day after Y/n returned home from the doctors and the grocery store, she cooked lunch for herself and then picked up the boys from the kindergarten. They then went for a walk around the neighborhood to put D/n to sleep in her stroller and the boys being the amazing brothers argued about who was gonna push the stroller. Y/n felt joy in her heart she couldn’t describe. She was simply proud of how loving the boys were.

When Jamie returned home, 2 hours earlier than usual, he expected to find his pack in the living room and he secretly hoped they would greet him, but the house was empty. He went to the living room and that’s when he finally found Y/n and the kids. They were in the garden enjoying the warm weather and the sunshine, eating some fruit, and playing with way too many things but they seemed to be enjoying. Jamie watched them from behind the glass door and adored Y/n once again. She was smiling widely, she glowed and looked even prettier than usual at that moment. She was showing D/n some flowers they probably picked in their garden and D/n was from what Jamie saw laughing at it. The boys were sitting on the blankets around the girls, their younger son was drawing something (and judging from the dozens of papers lying around it wasn’t his first artwork that day) and the older son was playing the puzzles while telling Y/n some exciting story. She listened carefully to every word and looked at the kids with so much love and adoration that Jamie wondered how he could get so lucky.

“Dad!” The younger boy screamed when Jamie came to the garden and both boys happily ran towards him to hug him.

“When you said you were gonna come home earlier I didn’t expect it would be this early,” Y/n said to Jamie as he sat down next to her. “But I’m not complaining. I missed you.”

“Missed you too love,” Jamie whispered as he leaned closer to kiss her and he then picked up D/n and took her in his arms to cuddle with her. Jamie was such a great dad and Y/n always knew he would be even though Jamie used to call himself a boy dad and say that he wouldn’t know what to do with a girl. But the moment they found out their next baby was going to be a girl he changed his mind completely and couldn’t wait to have a daughter. And from the second she was born she had him wrapped around her finger. “If you want you can go take a nap, I’ll stay there with the kids. I know you didn’t get much sleep.” Jamie offered.

At the first moment, she wanted to accept the offer and go to bed but when she looked around, she changed her mind. The sky was still blue, the sun was still shining, and the kids were having way too much fun and there was no way she was gonna miss this moment with her whole family. “I think I’ll stay right here.” She said with a smile.

The family stayed in the garden until the sun disappeared from the sky and just when the air got significantly colder, they all realized it was time to head home and have dinner. Neither one of them wanted to move because they were having so much fun but all of them were hungry and tired after a long day. The boys happily helped Y/n with dinner and although it took a little longer and the kitchen was a little messier than if Y/n did it on her own she enjoyed it as any other activity with her loves. Dinner was a favorite time of the day in the Benn family because it was usually the time when they all gathered and spent time together. For Y/n it was a time where she finally had everyone home and that was when she felt best even if it meant Jamie would leave for a game later. Jamie loved it because he was finally home with the ones most important to him and nothing could ever compare to the warmth of being home with his family. The kids loved dinner just as any other time they would get to eat but even they knew it meant they would most likely be all together.

“Dad? Can you read to us tonight?” One of the boys asked Jamie after the dinner.

“Of course!” Jamie answered with excitement. “Go brush your teeth and I’ll be there in a second okay?”

The boys listened and ran upstairs to their bathroom to brush their teeth and put on their pajamas and quickly jumped to bed and waited for Jamie. Jamie soon left Y/n alone in the living room so she could feed the baby in peace and went to the boys’ room.

“Alright, boys, ready?” Jamie asked the boys as he sat down with the book the boys picked. It was their favorite book about hockey that Jamie got them when they were younger and both Jamie and Y/n lost track of the number of times they read it to them. “A young boy doesn't want to go to bed. The hockey game is on! ‘What if I can't fall asleep?’ the boy says. ‘Don't worry,’ says his dad. ‘You will.’ After his parents have tucked him in and turned out the light, he shines a flashlight on his prized hockey possessions around his room: the posters of his favorite players, the pennant for his favorite team, the puck.” Jamie read. Not for too long though, the boys well asleep after a few minutes. “Good night boys,” Jamie said quietly as he left the room.

Y/n just finished putting D/n to sleep when Jamie walked into their bedroom. “That was quick,” Y/n noted.

“Told you I have a talent at putting the kids to sleep.” He said with a grin. “Abd good night to my little princess.” He whispered and kissed his little girl gently on her forehead before Y/n put her into her crib.

“You’re just lucky,” Y/n answered.

“I am,” Jamie said with a proud smile as he looked at his wife. He knew he was lucky. He hardly ever told this to his family, but he knew they knew he loved them more than anything. “And now I can finally focus purely on you.” He announced when he got out of the shower and went to Y/n.

“This was one of the nicest days in a while Jamie,” Y/n snuggled to Jamie and traced Jamie’s tattoos mindlessly. “Oh, and you better don’t forget to take the kids skating on the weekend. They were talking about it all day.” She laughed.

“I told the team and they all agreed to hang out,” he said. “And now give me a big kiss.” He said seriously.

“You’re horrible,” Y/n laughed before she kissed him. No matter how annoying and cocky he could get she loved him with all her heart.

#jamie benn #jamie benn imagine #jamie benn one shot #jamie benn writing #jamie benn imagines #dallas stars #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars writing #dallas stars one shot #dallas stars imagines #nhl players imagine #nhl imagine #nhl one shot #nhl writing #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey one shot #hockey writing #hockey imagines

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janellion · 4 years ago

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KAYLAAAAA i am Back ! HSHXH i would like to request hcs of the reader taking care of their drunk boyfriend(s) 👉👈 may i ask for tsukki, bokuto, kuroo, and akaashi? Hdhxbb i hope it's not too much !!! if it is, tsukki and bokuto would do omg aaaAAA i love you so much bb 💞💗💗💗 and idk if i've told you this before already but i LOVE LOVE LOVE your writing like it's one of the best i've ever read !!!! pls stay healthy and safe, i love you!!!!!

RON BB U MAKING A BITCH SOFT OMG 😭😭💗💗✨✨ thank you SO SO MUCH!!’ it means the world to me that you enjoy my writing!!! i’d love to write these for you!!! (i’m sorry they took so long bb 🥺😭 ILY!!)

taking care of your drunk!boyfriend hcs

ft. tsukki, bokuto, kuroo, akaashi

tsukki

tsukki doesn’t drink that much but when he does, he gets SOFT

i don’t mean like he’s crying and all over you

but those things that he only usually thinks? like “wow they’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen”

he SAYS THEM

and he doesn’t realize that he does, he’s really just thinking out loud and so when you’re all flustered at hearing him being so sweet and honest, words that he usually reserves for tender and special moments, he just quirks an eyebrow like “what? did i say something?”

and you pretend like he didn’t, bc you love hearing the things he has to say

taking care of him involves a lot of,,, tough love

he is stubborn and wants to take care of himself

he only lets you take care of him when you’re firm but sweet with him

speaking of, you’re the ONLY ONE that he let’s take care of him

even though it does take some extra coaxing on your part, anyone else would be outright refused except for you

when you go to pick him up or the boys drop him off, they always seem a little extra tired because they’ve been dealing w drunk tsukki without you and he is DIFFICULT

like “we need to bribe him to get into the car” kind of difficult

but they’re really just bribing him with getting to see you

tsukki isn’t a super cuddly or physically affectionate person, but as soon as he sees you he melts

will draw you in for a hug with those long arms of his and just hold you until he starts swaying and you both fall on the ground

the nights end with him passed out in bed and you gently removing his glasses

he never brings it up the next day bc he’s embarrassed, but he thanks you in his own little ways, whether that’s a tender kiss to your temple as you make him something for his hangover, or your favorite flowers the next time he goes out for errands

a knock on the door pulls you from your current task, piquing your interest and making you wonder — isn’t it a little late for them to be back? i figured kei would just stay with kuroo. as you head to the front door, you peek your head through the window to see none other than your tall slightly red faced boyfriend batting away the presumably helpful hand that kuroo is offering him.

as soon as you open the door and tsukki’s eyes land on you, the annoyed and frustrated look on his face melts into one of calm adoration. he takes a step through the threshold, placing a large slender hand on your shoulder, drawing you into his chest and inhaling the scent of your hair.

you look at kuroo over tsukki’s shoulder, suppressing a grin as you see kuroo’s growing. “you should have heard him on the way here, he was so excited to see you,” he comments to you under his breath as he moves to head back to the boys leaning against his car in varying levels of intoxication.

you shoot him a “good luck!” as he walks away before the door slams, blocking kuroo’s retreating back. you try and pull away from tsukki, only to feel him pull you in closer in response.

“those guys were pissing me off,” you hear tsukki’s voice muffled into into your hair. you can’t help but smile at the softness in his voice despite the harshness of his words.

“let’s get you to bed,” you laugh softly, prying his arms ground around your waist and holding his hands in yours between you.

as you go to walk down the hall, tsukki’s grip on your hands tightens as he pulls you back to him, bringing one hand to your check and the other to the small of your back.

he looks at you intensely through his glasses, face slightly flushed, but eyes soft and mouth slipping into a small smile.

“you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen”

+++

bokuto

i’ve written a bit abt drunk!bo here BUT yk i can always go off abt my hubby

OK SO bokuto is one of those “i’m myself but x100” kind of drunks

he is so excited and enthusiastic about things when he’s in a good mood

but he’s so down in the dumps and sad if he’s in a bad mood

fortunately!! you are always there to manage his moods, whether that’s extreme elation or intense sadness

a smile from you or a squeeze of your hand is all it takes to bring him back to his normal cheerful and exuberant self

BUT i hope that you don’t mind shirtless!bokuto (who could???) bc this man is CONSTANTLY TAKING HIS SHIRT OFF WHEN HE DRINKS

on the rare occasions where he goes out with tanaka, these two get kicked out of places SO FAST for public indecency

taking care of drunk!bokuto is a pretty involved affair

as soon as he sees you or the guys drop him back off to you, he is running full speed toward you, often forgetting his size and underestimating his speed

you’ve learned after the first few times that you need to brace yourself for impact bc he has crashed into you more times than you can count

this often results in you either on your back on the floor, or bo sweeping you up in a giant hug as he squeezes you tightly

the man REFUSES to take care of himself, does not want to eat or drink water until you offer it to him

if you bribe him w a kiss? man will do anything

the reason why he refuses to take care of himself? he just wants to spend time w you and shower you with love and affection!!

you’re trying to brush your teeth? good thing you only need one hand bc bo is holding the other!

trying to fix the bed? good luck bc bo has his arms around your waist and is nuzzling his face into your neck

fortunately, drunk!bo is also very sleepy, so after a lot of hand holding and hugging and wildly affectionate and inappropriate compliments, he is ready to pass out

unfortunately, he’s only able to fall asleep with you in his arms, so i hope your phone is charged!!

also, get ready to take a shower in the morning bc drunk!bokuto DROOLS

it’s ok tho bc he’s so cute abt it in the morning & will DEFINITELY insist on showering w you to help you,,, clean off 👀

a loud cry rings through the neighborhood prompting loud “shhhh” noises from the boys around your boyfriend. you smile in amusement as you look out the front window at the scene before you.

bokuto just dropped his phone as he was getting out of the car and proceeded to drop onto his knees, face buried in his hands as he cries out, “NOO WHAT DID I DO THEYRE GONE KUROO GONEEE,” as he gingerly picks up his phone and looks at the lock screen.

even from your vantage point in the house you can see the barely concealed snicker fhat escapes kuroo’s lips as he gestures to tsukki to help heft the large crying man to his feet.

“bro, i promise [Name] is fine, that’s just your lock screen, they’re in the house.” at this point kuroo pauses and looks up, seeing your face in lit up in the window.

“bo, look! they’re right there! why don’t you go give the door your secret knock and see them?” kuroo says, pointing to you at the window.

of course, you can’t hear this, but you do see the way that bokuto’s eyes light up as he brings his gaze to meet yours, and the wide smile that’s already across his previously tear-stained face.

with that, he is running full speed to the front door, and you barely have time to process the change in mood before you hear your signature shared secret knock on the front door.

laughing in anticipation, you throw the door open at the finish of the knock, only to be wrapped up in two sturdy arms, bo feet your lifting off the ground in his excitement.

finally setting you down, he looks at you with shining eyes, the grin on his face spreading with every passing second.

“i missed you”

+++

kuroo

so poor kuroo is usually stuck as the designated driver (he switches off with akaashi)

when he does get to drink though? his nerdy and flirty sides come out in the BEST possible way

he loves to use chemistry pick up lines on you, whether you’re out on the town together or you’re cuddled up in your bed after he gets dropped off for the night

you’ll be playing with his hair or he’ll be playing with yours and all of a sudden he’ll pull away and all the warning you’ll get is a slight glint in his eye and the traces of a mischievous smile as he says:

Do you have 11 protons? Cause your sodium fine

You must be a compound of beryllium and barium...because your a total BaBe

as soon as the lines are out of his mouth you can feel heat rushing up your neck and cheeks as your eyes widen slightly

kuroo always laughs gently, a light blush coloring his cheeks as he pulls away

he loves to do this bc it always yields his favorite sight: you flustered and embarassed at his sudden flirtatiousness

kuroo is pretty responsible so you don’t really,,, need to take care of him?

but you DO get to listen to a lot of really entertaining stories about things that have happened throughout the night he spent out with the boys

he likes to lay his head in your lap with his eyes closed as you run your fingers through his hair and gently massage his scalp, humming gently and laughing as he recounts the tales of his night

you WILL have to convince him to go to bed tho bc drunk!kuroo wants to stay up ALL NIGHT and spend time with you, cuddling and watching tv or some movies (he WILL try and convince you to watch a fun documentary)

but you’ll have to resist his charms and pickup lines

he does NOT make it easy on you though

will even go as far as to lay on the ground and make you drag him to your bedroom, barely concealing his laughter

he’ll eventually take pity on you and walk with you to the bedroom, but not before swinging his arm over your shoulder and leaning a bunch of his weight on you (he can’t make it too easy!)

the night always ends with the two of you facing each other, his arm slung over your waist as he traces every inch of your face with his eyes

you hear the loud honk of a horn as you receive a “here” text from your boyfriend. you open the door, not sure what to expect since it’s been quite some time since kuroo actually let loose.

you definitely weren’t expecting a grinning bokuto with his hand around kuroo’s waist as your dark haired boyfriend grinned at you with a mischievous look in his eye.

“[Name]!” bokuto exclaims in his signature booming and excited voice. “Your boyfriend here was practicing lines on me all night to get ready to see you,” he says, laughter in his voice.

“bro, you weren’t supposed to tell them!” kuroo turns to bokuto, eyebrows slightly furrowed, “it was supposed to be a surprise!”

bokuto simply laughs and shakes his head, removing his arm from around kuroo’s waist and going to clap you on the shoulder. “good luck,” he says with a wink before walking back to the car, yelling at a slightly flushed akaashi that “he’s next!”

with bokuto gone, all of kuroo’s attention is on you. the mischievous look on his eye has been replaced by one that’s softer, full of love and adoration. his smile, however, still slightly betrays the rest of his face as he leans in close to you, arm resting on one side of your face as the other goes to his hip.

“You must be related to Alfred Nobel, because baby you are dynamite!” slips past his lips and you can’t help but laugh, heat rushing to your face as you take in his words.

his suaveness, however, falters as he loses his balance and crashes into you through the threshold.

he pulls back from you, face lingering inches from yours as he grins again.

“Even if there wasn't gravity on earth, I'd still fall for you”

+++

akaashi

similar to kuroo, akaashi is often the designated driver or signature “responsible friend”

when he DOES go more wild it’s because someone bokuto convinces him to do something crazy for some reason his bachelor party

on those nights where he does participate more in shenanigans, he gets SOFT

not in the same way that tsukki or bokuto get soft, but in a very special way that is Signature Akaashi

the guys will drop him off and they will all be waving and smiling at you, faces soft

akaash’s softness is infectious and inspiring, and all of them are going to go home to their own partners and be extra soft and sweet bc of him and his love for you

akaashi’s love language is quality time, and this is never more obvious than on the nights when you’re taking care of him after a fun night out with the boys

he just wants to be with you, whether that be on the couch as you finish up your book or show, talking to you as you shower for the night, or at the kitchen table as you have a midnight snack

his eyes soften and drink in the sight of you under the bright kitchen lights, or the soft glow of the tv, or through the foggy mirror of the bathroom

anything you ask of him is yours, so taking care of him is very easy

you’re both in bed as soon as you’d like to be, whether that’s one hour or five hours after he gets done with the boys

this is bc all akaashi wants to do is hold you in his arms and look at you, whispering into the quiet space between you how much he loves you and how much you mean to him

he’s not usually big on being very affectionate with his words, so when he says them, you KNOW he means them more than anything

even though he was the one that went out, he’s always the last one to fall asleep bc he wants to memorize the way you look in this exact moment, and tuck it away into his collection of favorite memories

your phone buzzes on the couch next to you, drawing your attention from the show you put on as you wait for your boyfriend to get dropped off.

accepting the phone and bringing it to your ear, you hear the calm and deep voice of the man you know and love.

“hi love, we’re almost to the house,” rings through the speaker. a chorus of “AWWWHS” and “OOOOHS” echo in the background as you hear the unmistakable voices of the boys in the car. a smile tugs at your lips at the shenanigans, and widens at akaashi’s soft chuckle. “see you soon,” you say as you hear the sound of a car pull up.

making your way to the door, you open it to reveal the slightly flushed face of your boyfriend as he gets out of the car, accepting the hand that bokuto offers in assistance.

the softness in akaashi’s eyes is unmistakable as he makes his way toward you, his gaze never straying from your face.

bokuto chuckles behind him, waving briefly at akaashi’s back before walking around to the front of the car.

as akaashi reaches the front step, he wraps an arm around your waist and brings you in for a soft but firm kiss, pulling away with a gentle smile and shining eyes.

the “OOOHS” and “AHHHS” ring out from the car again, but there’s a softness to them.

regardless, you pay them no mind as you look into akaashi’s eyes, a small smile playing on your lips.

“it’s nice to see you too,” you say through a grin.

“i’ve been wanting to do that all night”

☽

a/n: tysm for reading!! ty @strawbirb for the bokuto idea!! my requests are OPEN. i’m slow but i will get to them! 🥰✨

general taglist (also my faves 🥰) : @oyakags @cosmictooru @over5feettall @kaidasen @achoohq @kuronekomama @anianimol @strawbirb @spriteandnicotine

writing taglist: @softkatsuki

(pls lmk if you’d like to be on a taglist!)

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kindahoping4forever · 4 years ago

Text

Take Me Home For Christmas // Ashton Irwin

Thank you to everyone for the incredible feedback about yesterday’s fic! I can’t believe we’re nearing the end of Hoe For The Hoe-lidays - Cass and I hope you’ve enjoyed our holiday stories and that you’ll continue to enjoy them even once the holiday season is over.

Be on the lookout for today’s Cal blurb to be posted to @cal-puddies and absolutely, 1000% like set a reminder on your phone if you have to, do not forget to come back here to my blog tomorrow for the closing ceremony of The Hoe-lidays: the latest galaxybrain co-write from me and Cass. No spoilers but it might be my fav collab of ours to date.

Warnings: Banter, bonding and boning with stranger in a bar!Ash (the fic is much sweeter than that but I couldn’t resist the alliteration), casual protected sex, female masturbation, use of a vibrator

Word Count: 3000

Hoe For The Hoe-lidays Masterlist

Masterlist // Taglist and Ko-Fi linked above

Let me know what you think!

“Two years! Love of my life, best thing that ever happened!” Ashton raises his glass in an exaggerated toast and the inquiring stranger smiles kindly, taking their own drink and walking away.

You don’t know how you managed to wait until the coast was clear before you burst out laughing. He glances behind him to make sure the curious patron is gone before he turns to you, grinning. “Should I have said three or four years, was that too much for two? My relationships typically don’t last even that long,” he admits, shaking his head.

“Listen, if I were well-adjusted enough to know what it’s like for someone to call me ‘the best thing that ever happened’ to them, I probably wouldn’t be spending Christmas Eve alone in a bar,” you point out with a laugh.

“But you’re not alone,” he leans in, nudging you a bit. “You’re out with your boyfriend of two years, celebrating his return home from an extensive and wildly successful world tour with his band.”

You cackle, “OK, that part was definitely a flourish too far, I don’t think anybody bought that.”

He smiles slyly. “You’re probably right,” he lilts, taking a sip, giving you a look over his glass that makes you grateful your holiday had turned out the way it did.

You’d made the tough call not to fly home for Christmas this year; you couldn't afford it and you didn't feel right taking your parents up on their offer to pay. Unfortunately, literally everyone you knew did get out of town for the holidays, leaving you with nowhere to go and no one to see.

On Christmas Eve, you ended up at the corner bar, which was nowhere near as lively as you'd hoped: save for what appears to be an older ladies' night out and a few stragglers, it was deserted. After exhausting your conversation options with the bartender, you ended up chatting with the man a couple stools over from you. He was handsome, charming and seemed to have an opinion or anecdote about any topic you raised. Looking for companionship, or at least some entertainment, you asked him to join you.

His name was Ash and he was in a similar predicament as you this Christmas. You didn't get a chance to get more in depth personally; maybe it's the ease you have with each other, maybe it's the way your outfits happen to complement each other but one by one, the women from the back of the bar approach you to kindly tell you what a nice couple you make and make small talk about your relationship. Rather than embarrass them - and again, for some entertainment - you both silently agree to humor them and answer as if you are together and before long, you've established an elaborate narrative for your romance.

“So where’d you take me for our anniversary this year, babe?” You grin, enjoying this game.

“Surprised you with Disney World,” he says confidently, gesturing towards the Stitch keychain decorating your car keys sitting on the bar. “Hid the plane tickets in your work bag, you found them at the office and called me to scream about it but I was already in the lobby to surprise you for lunch.”

You giggle, “Wow, not to brag about your boyfriend-ing skills or anything.”

Ashton shrugs and clinks your glass. “Nothing but the best for my girl.” You feel yourself flush and know it had to have been from his words, you both switched from booze to water quite some time ago.

“What about my birthday?” He asks, eyes playfully challenging you. “It’s in July, if that makes a difference.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see one of the ladies you talked to earlier and you lean in, resting your hand on his, continuing to sell your story. “Intimate backyard barbeque with friends, bonfire at night. I saved up and bought that acoustic guitar you’d been eyeing online but I waited to give it to you until everyone left because I wanted it to be a special moment between us,” you say quietly, pleased with your answer.

He smiles brightly and you feel yourself actively suppressing the urge to kiss over the dimples that form on his face. “A guitar, huh? I’m actually a drummer,” he teases.

“When you tipped the bartender, there was a guitar pick mixed in with your cash,” you point out smugly.

“Oh,” he giggles, clearly a little flustered. “Didn’t realize you were payin’ such close attention to me,” he flirts.

“Gotta make sure my man gets what he wants,” you cheekily reply.

He moves in closer and you’re pretty sure he’s about to kiss you when another inquisitive customer interrupts to tipsily assert that Ash is a fool if he doesn’t “put a ring on it” this holiday season. You both take the comment in stride and laugh together when the encounter is over. The heat from your near-kiss is still there but the moment has decidedly passed.

After a few more entries into your pretend love story and a few more close encounters, the bar starts clearing out. You can’t believe you spent the whole evening talking with Ashton but you also don’t want it to end; you haven’t felt chemistry like this with someone in a long time. You walk to the door with him and you’re not surprised when you hear yourself say, “My place or yours, babe?”

He turns to you with a wide smile, amusement and what you’re hoping is lust in his eyes. “I was hoping you might say that,” he admits.

“Can’t let my travel-weary boyfriend wake up alone on Christmas morning,” you chirp, stepping out into the cool night air.

“That part of the story was actually true,” he chuckles. “I did just get home from touring with my band.”

You raise your eyebrows, interested. “Well, the part about me living just down the street was also true, so let’s start walking,” you wink, starting to lead the way.

He laughs loudly and reaches out for your arm, smoothly pulling you into his arms for a charged kiss, the tension that’s been building all evening finally boiling over. His lips are softer than you imagined but his technique is as fevered and demanding as you’d hoped; your tongue makes its way into his mouth and you murmur when his strokes it in turn.

It’s hard to say if it’s the chilly weather or your desire but you make it back to your apartment in record time. It’s not often you bring home guys you just met but as you lead him to your bedroom, you realize how he doesn’t feel like that at all, almost as if your fictitious history together has bled into reality.

Ash shuts your bedroom door behind him and you waste no time pressing yourself into him, making out and undressing each other until you’re both down to your underwear. He lifts you up by your thighs, wrapping them around his waist; he tries to get fancy and kiss you while he carries you over to the bed, hitting his leg on the edge of the frame and almost sending you both flying.

The two of you break into laughter as he safely drops you on the bed. “Did some rearranging since last time I was over, huh, baby?” He jokes, sitting up against the headboard to rub the knot on his shin.

“Vibes were off without you here, had to get some feng shui happening,” you reply, trying to catch your breath after your giggle fit. You let your eyes roam over his near naked body. He’s fit, almost ridiculously muscular and judging by his biceps, you decide he must’ve been telling the truth about being a drummer. You didn’t expect all the tattoos you’re seeing but you definitely approve and the amused look on his face tells you he’s noticed.

“Like the new ink, babe? Wanted to surprise you,” he grins, drawing your attention to a large, dark coin decorating the left side of his ribcage.

You crawl over to him and let your fingertips dance over the tattoo. “Very nice,” you murmur before mouthing over it. He groans when your tongue pokes out at it and you shudder at the sound, continuing to move around his chest, hoping to hear it again.

He lets you play and then flips you over so he can show you some appreciation as well. He nips and nibbles around your neck and chest, doubling back when you breathe a particularly enthusiastic sigh of approval.

“Love this underwear, by the way,” he comments as he removes your bra. “Just like you wore on our first date. Took you home from a bar that night too”

You giggle at his addition to your story. “Oh did you? I thought earlier we said our first date was at an Italian restaurant.” You gasp as his mouth encases your nipple.

“Well… dinner then drinks, obviously,” he retorts, snickering against you. He pulls back to discard your panties and you swear you can almost feel his eyes devouring you. “Holy shit, you’re gorgeous.”

You beam and beckon him closer; before you can kiss him like you planned, his mouth is back on your neck, trying to relocate that spot under your jaw that caused you to moan so boldly, he felt his cock twitch. His hand is busy between your legs, tracing lightly around your lips before dipping into your folds to see what makes you tick.

You feel him hard against your thigh as he plays with you so you reach down to return the favor; you do your best to maintain a poker face when you feel the size of him through his boxers but Ashton’s fingers inside you undoubtedly feel the surge of wetness your realization brings.

You eagerly slip your hand inside his underwear and you both groan when you wrap your hand around him. His cock couldn’t be more ready for you, head dripping with precum; you spread it liberally as you touch him, thoughts racing as your hand seems to keep going and going down his length before you reach the base. You give him a squeeze, biting your lip at the feel of his weight and girth in your hand.

He quietly curses as your strokes become more confident; together you get rid of his boxers and as his cock springs free, he teases you with a smile. “Think you can take it, baby?”

“It has been a while,” you admit, slyly adding, “I mean… with you on tour and everything.” He chuckles and gives you a swat as you sit up to dig through your nightstand.

You shoot him a glance over your shoulder and he breaks character for a second, rushing out, “I… did that without even thinking, I’m sorry. Was that OK?”

You toss the condoms and lube on the bed and give his cock a few more tugs as you shrug, “Do it harder next time.”

Ash smirks as he gets situated, rolling on a condom and lubing up his length before tossing you the bottle; when you’re ready, you get up on all fours, flashing him a dazzling smile over your shoulder. “Just like our first date, right?”

He grins, kneeling behind you, large hands covering your ass, squeezing and giving it a couple firm spanks as requested. You gasp as his cock taps against your clit before pushing into you, paying close attention to your breathing to see if you need him to slow down. You hear his breath heavy as well and you know you must feel tight around him, no one has ever filled you like this before; it’s overwhelming but you’re aching with anticipation so you rock back against him, letting out a breathy “Please” for good measure.

The soft way he runs his hands over your back is a fascinating contrast to the rough snap of his hips against your ass as he drives his cock into you. You fuck with a familiarity you didn’t expect, listening to each other’s sounds to tell you what the other needs.

You stretch on the bed more, popping your ass out further, inviting him to really let you have it; the sound of a loud smack on your ass fills the room and his thrusts increase in both speed and impact. You want to think of something clever to say, to let him know how good he’s making you feel and to continue the intimacy of your fictional romance but all you can think about is how full his cock makes you feel.

You hear his breath speed up but feel his hips slowing and you deduce he’s trying to stave off his orgasm; you’re nowhere near close so you decide to improve the situation for you both. “Babe, can we try something else?” You look over your shoulder winningly. “Feels good but I need more.”

Ashton pulls out, taking a few deep breaths while you turn onto your back; he sits upright on his knees in front of you and after some brief negotiations with your flexibility, you swing your legs up on his shoulder before he slips himself back in.

This new position is quickly much more intense than either of you anticipated. He’s hitting deeper than before and you’re in heaven with his hands roving over your stomach and chest; having your legs close together like this makes you seem even tighter and you hear him breathing even faster than before.

He fucks you hard and the combination of hearing your desperate sounds, seeing your tits bounce and feeling your pussy grip his cock so tightly is too much. “Fuck… ‘s too fuckin’ good, baby… fuck,” he groans and within seconds he’s filling the condom with cum.

You moan watching as he loses himself in the feeling, slowing his hips gradually until he’s spent. He carefully slides your legs off his shoulder, offering you a peck and a quiet apology as he gets up to throw away the condom.

Maybe it’s out of habit, maybe you are just that comfortable with this stranger for some reason, but without hesitation you reach back into your nightstand and retrieve your favorite vibrator.

You feel Ash get back into bed and you turn to see him propped up on his side, watching you intently as you slick the vibe through your wetness. “No offense...” you start.

“None taken,” he smiles, studying your toy. “I was gonna offer you my mouth, but…”

“This’ll be a lot quicker,” you insist, teasing the tip of the toy at your entrance. “You relax, enjoy the afterglow. I’ll join you in literally like three minutes.” You push it in and click the button to start it vibrating inside you.

He scoots closer, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Two years in and the romance is already dead,” he jokingly laments.

You cackle loudly, clenching around your vibe and your laughs turn into a moan. “Goddammit, Ash, you wanna crack jokes or help your ol’ girl out?”

He smiles and pulls you into a sleepy kiss while his other hand grips and massages your breast. His tongue lazily dances with yours and his hands travel over your skin, caressing, teasing, igniting all while you work the vibe between your thighs.

You pull away from his mouth to pant, “Check this shit out.” You click a second button on the toy and the clitoral vibrator whirs to life. Ashton can almost immediately detect the difference in your breathing.

He rolls your nipple between his fingers, watching as your back arches and your hips swirl. “Just like that, baby, come on. Let me see you cum,” he murmurs.

You’re surprised to hear yourself call out his name when you begin clenching around your toy and you especially don’t expect to tug on his hair, silently pleading for him to kiss you while the waves of pleasure overtake your body.

You whimper and pant against his lips until you have to pull away to frantically turn the vibrator off, nearing overstimulation. You close your eyes and catch your breath, waiting for the aftershocks to stop, your legs to stop shaking.

You finally open your eyes to see him offering you a handful of tissues he thoughtfully snagged off the bedside table; you graciously accept, wrapping them around your toy so you can set it on the nightstand. You look over at him again, gazing at each other for a beat before bursting into euphoric giggles.

You return to the bedroom after cleaning up to find Ash laying in his boxers, messing with his phone. You don’t know if you should say it out loud but you really hope he’s not ordering a car to take him home.

“Well, I can only speak for myself but I’d call that a decidedly Merry Christmas,” you sigh exhaustedly, flopping onto the bed.

He sets his phone aside and looks you over as you stretch out beside him. “This is cute,” he smiles, pinching at the Christmas cookie themed nightshirt you threw on in the bathroom. “Would you say that was more or less fun than our first Christmas together?”

You grin at him as you try to remember what tale you’d spun back at the bar. “Oh god… car broke down on the way to my parents’ house… seasonally appropriate ‘no room at the inn’ joke… fashioned a Christmas dinner out of motel vending machine snacks?”

“That’s the one,” he cackles. A mischievous look crosses his features and he leans in to you. “You know, we haven’t reminisced about what else went on in that motel room...” He trails off, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.

You bite your lip, pulling him closer by the chain around his neck. “Hmm... I’m actually having trouble remembering that part,” you flirt, nibbling at his bottom lip. “Maybe you could remind me, babe? And please, take your time.”

————-

Taglist issues again so my apologies if you get notif’d more than once (or not at all)

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#5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fic #holiday smut #ashton smut #smut #Kindahoping4forever #kh4f fic #Take Me Home For Christmas #cass and crystal present: hoe hours #cass and Crystal present: hoe for the hoelidays #this was so much fun to write #i hope you like it!#Feedback is appreciated #LMAO for the 2nd day in a row I'm trying to sell a multi-k fic as a blurb #idk y'all the inspo's been hitting hard lol #Please peep our event masterlist to see if you've missed anything!

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