#hu💖

[throwingmuses]

1/17/25 - Kalaloch Beach

[hu-deuce-army]

I'm back and Charlie has a lighter haha!!

[moonmothmama]

tagged by: @nevertrulyset who i hope dearly to meet in person one day

relationship status: i have been with @ibelieveinthepowerofstuff since 2004 when we were both still teenagers

favorite color: i, too, am fond of the cooler side of the color wheel, particularly greens of every shade (shouts to deep pine green, olive green, sea green, and moss green), but my appreciation for warm colors has grown considerably over the years. i have fully embraced pink after the complex relationship i had with it as a girl.

song stuck in your head: vode an (oops, nerd shit)

last song listened to: carrickfergus as performed by joan baez

dream trip: since saying "to visit my loved ones who are far away" is kind of a copout since it's not about the trip at all, ultimately; i'd love to go and see the northern lights. not holding my breath but it'd be cool to go to rapa nui because i would love to see a moai in person that is where he's supposed to be and not, for example, in the british museum.

three favorite foods: everything in the broccoli family, everything bagel with cream cheese and lox, uh.... tea isn't a food, so....... salad. i legitimately love salad. you can do so much with it.

last thing googled: "freezing tempeh"

thing i wanna do: achieve meaningful victory over mental illness. suck it anxiety and depression, i'm gonna finish writing a book one day

tagging: if you wanna do this, please grab it and tag me

[daitaifuteki]

happy lantern rite!

[warlock-girlwife]

@warlockhorsegirl

thinking about yoiyantao……

[litchi-tea]

I feel like I should just buy his skin at this point

[livelaughlovesubs]

I have a small request which you can totally ignore if yous wants but-

Imagine Poe (bsd) feeling he isn't good enough and making a self-deprecating comment and reader fucking him while making him say (or until he says) he's worth it 💖

Ohhhh, that’s kinda sweet~ I like it heh

Dom!reader x sub!poe

Warning: pegging (can be read as a dick), praise kink, overstimulation, marking, fucked dumb

“Who’s my good boy? Who’s doing such a good job right now?”

There was only one right answer. It was him. Of course it was your dear partner. He’s been obeying you so nicely, bouncing up and down on top of you without taking a break. His back was facing you, giving you a nice view of his ass, as well as how your dick gets hurried inside him each time he slumps back into your lap. These shaking hands grabbed yours, making you hold onto his waist harder and leaving bruises behind.

You leaned against him, lips hovering above his neck as your hot breath tickled his skin. A shiver ran down his spine when you whispered something again, “answer me, pretty boy.” That’s what you said, but you wouldn’t give him time to speak and think! Relentlessly pounding him while kissing and sucking on his back, painting his body with marks and hickeys. Who would under such circumstances be able to speak properly? All he could let out were soft sobs paired with high-pitched whimpers. Back arched away from you, hands bawled into fists as he slams himself against your crotch.

His hair was a messy nest, flying around and obstructing his view, not that he could have registered anything anyway since he was only focused on the stretching feeling inside him. Every time he slows down for what reason ever, you’d run your hip upwards to meet his, hitting his prostate with such pinpoint accuracy that it makes him see stars. Electricity would course through his body like huge waves of pleasure, rendering him unable to even form a single coherent word. One of poe’s hands was wrapped around his dick to jerk himself off. But poor baby has been too distracted by the feeling of getting fucked dumb, so much that he forgot to move his hand. Now only holding it like it’s some kind of broken decoration that’s leaking its filth everywhere.

Really, everywhere. His precum spread to the sheets, his thighs, and even his belly. Now everything became sticky because of him. What a naughty boy he was, creating such a chaos. When Poe still didn’t muster enough energy to answer your questions, you squeezed down on his hips, getting a better grip before forcing him up and down your cock in a rough pace. “Hu- ah..aAAHHhHNHgG wait- y/n..!! Too much oh <3 too much!” He’d complain, but due to the moans it doesn’t sound very convincing. Watching his muscles tighten as more tears roll down his body, along with droplets of sweat. His rosy cheeks were so adorable, his body too, so perfect for you. A perfect little toy for you to adore.

Once again you groaned into his ear, “tell me, Poe, who’s my good boy?” After you finished your sentence, you noticed how his rim clenched down on you, holding onto you without wanting to let go. “Mhmm..! I- I…” he tried to answer you, he really did, yet whenever he opens his mouth only more whines would spill out. “Go on baby, take your time.” You smirked at him, a comforting smile that told him everything will be alright. Poe closed his eyes in an attempt to collect his thoughts, but it backfired and made him focus only on the way you stretched his walls. God it was heavenly, it was ecstasy he never experienced before. Whenever you just meekly brushed against his sweet spot, he’d mewl and squeak like a little slut.

This is no good, he was close, he had to answer you or else he might receive a punishment. Why do you want him to praise himself anyway? It’s so embarrassing! When you once again drove your dick deep inside him, hitting spots he never knew existed, he lost all energy and slumped back against your chest. A melting expression on his face as drool dripped down his chin, body sore from all the overstimulation already. His legs twitched around as a poor attempt to balance out the pleasure he received. He was exhausted, he couldn’t keep going anymore, all he did in that moment was giving himself to you completely, letting you use him like a toy.

“This won’t do, you have to speak, pretty boy.” You reminded him, while clasping one hand over his, the one pathetically trying to play with his own member. “Uhh.. it feels ah, hNng too good.” He gave out, barely able to register the meaning of your words. “Hmm, but you can speak right? Need me to repeat my question?” Even now you didn’t give up, fucking his brains out while giving him orders. “Hic, hmm… m-me… ah, I’m your go- uhHnn good boy..<3” Poe answered eventually, after that his tongue stuck out and his eyes rolled back. As if you milking his prostate wasn’t enough, you were forcing his hand to pump his length up and down now as well! He was going to break at this point!

“Good job, that’s right, you are my loveliest good boy, so be proud of it alright?” You said, before pointing into him faster and harder as a reward. “AhhHHHHh!! OohhH! Too much- too deep!!! Y/n HngHh, too fasttt!!” Aww, he’s crying about how he can’t handle this again, such an adorable thing. Since he’s encouraging you so feverishly, you had to respond to his pleads, right? Grinning from ear as to ear as you mumbled, “Shh, don’t worry, you won’t break that quick, I want to make this moment last.”

[mainemediapopns4]

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[rizdoodles]

Hello hello RIZ(*´∇｀*) I’ve been having an obsession with the Glorious masquerade event, and I got a question in mind.

How would Rizy react to Idia’s singing? Or the whole event in general? Also what would you imagine for her? (Asking it for something >:D)

"What if I... no."

For the event:

I’m sure Rizy would immediately dive for the bread from the City of Flowers (since The Hunchback of Notre Dame is set in France). She would be absolutely thrilled to eat good French bread. (After all, Rizy is French, and I’m sure she’d constantly complain about the bread they sell at NRC’s cafeteria.)

When they climb the stairs to the bell tower, Rizy will call out to the two at the back (Azul and Idia, since they’re the least athletic), “Come on! Faster, you slackers!” And when she ends up behind them because she climbed too many steps too quickly, she’ll still keep saying, “Hurry up, slackers!” Yeah, with Rizy, it’s really the pot calling the kettle black.

When the whole group is at the bell tower with Rollo during their visit and Malleus comments that the gargoyle isn’t actually a gargoyle but a grotesque, Rizy, out of pure contrariness, would insist that it’s a gargoyle. (And in the end, she’d be right.) She’d then smugly brag, saying, “Hehehe, so? Who’s the gargoyle expert here? That’s right, me! Hu-hummm, huhuuum🎶!” *Rizy does a victory dance before getting scolded by Sebek, who wants to defend his master*

During the spread of flowers covering the entire city in an apocalyptic way, Rizy would find the sight absolutely breathtaking, her eyes sparkling as she finally understands what Rook feels every time he sees something beautiful. However, reality would quickly set in when she realizes it’s a crisis for her classmates.

Would she try eating the flowers to see if she gains magic powers? Absolutely. But someone more mature in the group would definitely stop her in time.

During the ball, Rizy wouldn’t want to dance, finding it too cringe, and would prefer staying near the buffet to stuff herself.

Hehe, thanks for your question, Kaz!💖💝💖💝💖💝💖

[historical-fashion-polls]

context from the submitter: on the left is Butterfly Hu and on the right is Ruan Lingyu 💖

submitted by @asterroth 🖤🩶🤍

[saradika-graphics]

Hiii I love your work. Do you think you could do some peach pink to maroon hued heart dividers? If not, it's fine! Keep up the amazing work!!!

ahh that sounds cute, I can do that for sure! 💖

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please consider liking or reblogging if you use 💕

[maladyinpink]

Awww, Povero dolce ragazzo! 🥺♥︎♠︎

That’s not what he meant, Angel.

[slayfics]

(I am so in love with Yuta he just- stolen my heart fr 🥹💖) Hi, I’m back after like months of requesting (I think-) so how about scenario of Yuta who has a crush on the reader, however he always gets too nervous to approach them. He was scared to fall in love again due to what happened to Rika (just like you said! :D) so he just admire them from afar, until he get caught…he was pretty obvious about it- but his crush let it slide for now.

(Get prepared with so much Yuta request in the future, I just love him so much AAAAAA)

Yuta watches you train.

Yuta watched from the bleachers as you continued your spar with Maki. You had been training hard and as a result, have been able to best Maki in three spars yet. Continuing to be stubborn Maki demanded you spar with her again determined to get a defeat on you.

"Wow they have really improved, hu?" Yuta said to Panda and Toge.

"They sure have!" Panda agreed.

"Salmon" Toge exclaimed.

"Hmm," Panda hummed scanning his eyes from Yuta to you. "You sure are watching them closely today," Panda teased.

"What?!" Yuta exclaimed jumping a bit in his seat. "No, I- I'm watching the same as you two!" He yelped nervously.

"Oh come on, you know you don't have to lie to us," Panda said thumping Yuta on the back.

"Bento flakes," Toge agreed.

Yuta looked down at his shoes, unsure how to respond to his friends. The truth was he had been admiring you for some time now. However, he was haunted by flashbacks of Rika whenever he considered approaching you.

The last person he fell in love with met an awful fate due to him being unable to control his cursed energy. Unknowingly, he cursed Rika, causing her to turn into a cursed spirit instead of passing on after being fatally injured.

Anytime he daydreamed about you or spoke to you for too long, worst-case scenarios flash over his eyes. What if something ever happened to you because of his inability to control his cured energy just like Rika?

Yuta let out a heavy sigh looking back up at you and Maki sparring for a fifth time.

"What's that sigh for? You know I think they kind of have the hots for you too you know," Panda said.

"Hu?" Yuta exclaimed looking at Panda.

Panda laughed, "You humans are complex creatures but sometimes you get so wrapped up in yourselves you miss obvious signs from each other."

"Like um- what kind of signs?" Yuta asked shyly unable to control his curiously.

"You really haven't noticed?" Panda asked. Even Toge looked confused and curious to hear Panada's observations of you. "Well for starters even when you're taking way too long to pack your stuff up after class they always wait for you. They suddenly mix up words anytime they are in a conversation with you, and not to mention anytime you go out on a mission they pace around restlessly until you come back safe."

Yuta felt his face get hot at Panda's observations. Did you really like him back? Yuta looked back to you and Maki just as you spun around landing a final blow on Maki, winning the fourth spar. Landing the blow and throwing Maki to the floor you looked up at the bleachers making eye contact with Yuta. His face was completely flushed and he immediately looked away.

You felt your own face flush at realizing he was blushing from watching you.

"Just say something to him already," Maki said irritated.

Maki was right, Yuta was very timid and if you took the lead it would drastically speed your relationships up. However, you wanted to be mindful of his past. It couldn't have been easy for him to live with his deceased girlfriend as a curse all through his childhood.

You let out a heavy sigh, "No, I'll wait till he's ready."

I haven’t read the manga only caught up on the anime- so I hope this is still pretty accurate for Yuta! Thank you for my first JJK request 🤭!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: How are these getting longer lol

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

If you thought the darkness was torturous, the light proves to be worse. You look at your surroundings. It’s eerie. A room curated for one. For you.

The white fluffy stool in front of a matching vanity. A picture of a woman in white sitting in a meadow, flowers all around and a stream flowing through the lush field. A vanity painted with flowers, the night tables matching; the bedspread under you similar woven with pansies. The trim at the top of the wall is pink petals on white and a soft rug under the foot of the bed.

It’s all very cute but deranged. You’d love to have all this and more but you’d rather your apartment. If the price is those three men then you’d rather a gutter. Most importantly, you want your dog.

You can’t even make your demands. The walls can’t give you what you want. You doubt your captors will either but you can try. You can wear them down. You can be nice sure, you prefer that, but it doesn’t mean you can’t be your own brand of evil.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. The noise needles in your ears and you hear the mechanism click. You raise your head to watch the door open and the one with the beard enters. Alan, Arnold? Ugh, you don’t care.

He doesn’t break the threshold. He crosses his arms and stares at you. A ripple in his forehead underlines his thoughts.

“I’m going to bring you out but you have to be good,” he says.

You close your eyes and drop your head. You fill your chest and let out a blasting wail. He grunts and stomps to the bed. He grabs your shoulders, shaking you until you nearly swallow your tongue. You bite the tip as he sits you up and you’re forced to face him.

“No, no more of that. Or you don’t get your first present.”

“I don’t want any of your presents,” you sneer.

“This one, I think you do,” he intones, “I’m asking you to give me a chance. Let me show you that this isn’t just for us. This is about you, honey.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you hiss, “why can’t you just let me go?”

He shakes his head, “it’s too late for that.”

“I won’t behave. I swear, I’m going to scream–” you inhale and he quickly covers your mouth, his other hand coming around the back of your skull. 

He hushes you as his blue eyes darken, “honey, I’m being nice right now, so you need to go along with this. If you don’t…” he pauses and looks over his shoulder, “I don’t know what they’ll do.”

You furrow your brow. Getting out of this room is one step closer to escape. You can be good. For now.

You let the tension leave your body and soften your expression. He senses it and slowly slides his hand away from your mouth. You flick your lashes, putting on your best pout.

“Okay, Alan, I’ll be good,” you avow.

His brow tweaks and his cheek ticks. His nostrils flare as his chest rise and falls, “it’s Andy.”

“Right, I’m sorry, I’m really freaked out,” you show your teeth sheepishly, “that other guy… he hurt me.”

“Which one?” He asks.

“Er… stache guy.”

“I’ll talk to him,” he huffs, “can I untie you?”

“Yeah.”

“No, honey, I’m asking,” he looks you straight in the face, “you’re not going to try anything, right?”

“I can be good,” you squirm, “my wrists hurt.”

“Alright.”

He lays you back and rolls you over. He pulls the tape away from your arms, then your ankles. You think of the trick from the van. You know his weak spot but it’s too soon for that. Timing, it all comes down to the right opportunity.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand and helps you up.

You get to your feet and let him lead you out. His large hand clings to yours as he pulls you after him like a child. As you go into the hall, you examine every inch of the place. He takes you into the front room, a low din that in any other circumstance would be cozy.

It looks like any other living room. A sectional and an armchair, an artificial fireplace set into the wall, a mantel trimmed in tinsel, a rich carpet spread over the dark hardwood, and shelves of books along with a television mounted to the wall. The tree in the corner stands bare over a red velvet skirt.

“We can decorate the tree tonight and see if Santa leaves anything for tomorrow.”

You hold back a scoff, “um, I know Santa isn’t real.”

He chuckles, “it’s a joke.”

“Is this the surprise?” You deflate. Sounds like work to you. Of course, your apartment is too small for a proper tree but you’re less than excited for a pastime you always longed for.

“No, not the only one,” he lets you go as you tug on your hand. “Honey, we did this all for you.”

You turn on him, “I didn’t ask you too.”

“Hey, hey, why are you acting like this? You’re such a sweet girl.”

You swallow tightly and hear beeping again. Then a clamour that includes a scramble, some scraping and the thump of a door against something else. You try to see past Andy as you feel cold air rush in from outside. You want to race past him but he’d be on you in a moment.

You hear a familiar growl before another voice wafts in from the entryway.

“Ah, he bit me. Again!” One man says.

“You think I’m having fun at the ass end?” The other retorts.

“Woah, oh, shit–”

There’s a duller thump and you hear claws and paws on the floor. Your heart leaps and you look around Alan– Andy as you hear the heavy breaths bounding towards you. 

“Ernie!” You squeal as the Saint Bernard lumbers in, furtively searching before he spots you. “Ernie, my boy. Oh, baby boy.”

He nearly knocks over Andy as he barrels into your arms. You hug him around the neck and inhale the scent of his fur. His collar tinkles and let his warmth ease your fear. You were so worried about him, more than even yourself.

“You said it was a puppy,” the bare-faced man snarls as he shakes his hand.

“I didn’t know…” Andy says.

“He is a puppy,” you insist.

“Who let the pussycat out?” The mustachioed creep asks.

Your eyes shoot darts in his direction and his hand shields his pants, almost instinctively. Ernie drags his large rough tongue up your cheek. He was scared too but now you have each other.

“Surprise,” Andy says, “so now, honey, you’re going to be good, right?”

You look at him and chew your lip. His eyes fall to Ernie and you put your arm in front of the dog. He doesn’t need to put his threat into words.

“Shit, I’m bleeding. That thing got shots?” Scarf asks.

“What about the girl? She got me good,” Mustache snickers.

“No, but maybe I should get checked now,” you snip.

“Woa-ho!” Mr. Caterpillar exclaims, “she’s got a mouth.”

“Honey,” Andy warns, “we’re being good, right?”

You huff and nod.

“So, apologise.”

“What?” You burst out, “he–” You stop and look between all three men. You have Ernie but you’re more worried about him getting hurt than knowing he’d hurt them in an instant. Even then, he has his head low, a steady rumble brewing in him.

“That thing needs to calm down,” the naked faced one whines, still cradling his hand.

“He’s confused,” you defend your son, “okay? And I’m sorry, er, dude, I’m sure you don’t have any communicable diseases.”

“The fuck? Disease– Alright,” the man steps forward, “that’s it. First she bites me, then she kicks me in the dick and now–”

“Lloyd,” Andy puts his hand up, “no. We’re all just getting used to each other. You’re not exactly easy to be around yourself.”

“Fuck that, I’m funny,” the fuzzy lipped man, Lloyd, argues.

“Everyone just quit,” Andy demands, “alright? Did you get the food?”

“Food?” The bare-faced man shrugs out of his jacket, “what food?”

“For the dog? I told you–” Andy begins.

“Ah, shit, knew we forgot something,” Lloyd chuckles, “he’ll be fine. He can eat chicken, can’t he?”

“He has a sensitive tummy,” you say.

“Jesus,” the third man grumbles as he hangs his scarf over his coat. “I’m not going back. It’s late.”

“Can he have rice? Carrots?” Andy suggests.

“I guess, I don’t know if he’ll eat 'em,” you look at Ernie as his deep brown eyes meet yours. You pet his head to keep him calm. He doesn’t like these men any more than you do.

“Fine,” Andy huffs, “go get the decorations,” he orders the others.

“Why don’t you get the decorations?” Lloyd sneers.

“She needs to change,” Andy explains.

“Like we can’t help her,” the other man challenges.

“I don’t often agree with him, but he’s right. We’ll get her changed.”

You grimace as your eyes ping pong at the back and forth of their conversation. This isn’t good. You don’t enjoy being talked about like you’re not there.

“How about I get myself changed?” You offer.

The men turn to you. None of them seem impressed. A sudden peel of thunder fills the room and you look at Ernie. His bark echoes in your ears.

“Shut that thing up,” Lloyd snaps.

“He’s quiet,” you say, “he was just saying the same about you.”

“Really?” He goes to take another step forward and the other man stops him, “Ransom, let me go.”

“I’ll take her, you two go get the decorations,” he says.

Andy frames his hips and sighs, “fine. We all know the plan. Let’s stick to it.”

You want to raise your hand and clarify that you do not, in fact, know the plan but you suspect you’re not a part of the collective. You keep your hand on Ernie and gulp. He nuzzles your hip.

You bend and pet behind his ear, “it’s okay.” It’s not. You move to face him, “sit,” you raise your voice, “stay. I’ll be right back.”

As you stand, the dog obeys. He’s a gentle giant, at least with you. You pat his head and turn away. The men watch you.

“That thing listens?” The one they called Ransom asks.

“He can.”

“Come on,” he beckons you with two fingers, a smirk ghosting on his lips.

“This is bullshit,” Lloyd mutters as Andy approaches him.

“We can keep talking all night,” Andy pats his shoulder, “or get things moving.”

“Whatever,” the man smooths his mustache.

You reluctantly move towards the third man, the one with no personality grown out on his lip or jaw. A baby face if you ever saw one. The way he leers makes you uncomfortable. He smells like Armani.

“Not smiling now, are you?” He says under his breath as he ushers you down the hall.

He points you into that same bedroom. You stop just inside and he shoulders past you with a grumble. You watch him go to the wardrobe and open it. You look between him and the door. You could make it.

You wait a few seconds as he pushes hangers over the bar. You take a step. He doesn’t notice. Another and he’s bitching about colours. You didn’t think men were that picky. You get right in the frame of the door and back out. He looks around the open wardrobe.

“Bye,” you wave and pull the door shut.

You know he’s probably swearing at you but you can’t hear him. You hold onto the handle and hit the little lock icon in the corner of the keypad. The deadbolt rolls into place.

This is it. You edge out to the living room. You don’t see anybody. Ernie sits where you left him, sniffing the air. He sees you and perks up. You wave him over and he lifts his rump, taking careful steps across the room.

You grab his collar and take him with you to the front door. You twist the handle, it doesn’t budge. You flip the lock over it, still nothing. You don’t know what to do. What the hell?

You search around you. The windows are barred, you can’t get out that way. There’s a small box right beside the door. You flip it open to reveal another keypad. Fuck.

“And where are we going, pussy cat?” The question nips your ears as a plastic ornament pings off the wall beside you. You spin and face the mustachioed menace. 

“You know, I just need some fresh air.”

Ernie growls and puts himself between you and the man, keeping the distance with his body. He prowls around, snout low as he paces back and forth. Lloyd steps closer and the dog mirrors him.

“Call that thing off,” he demands.

“Why would I do that?” You challenge.

“Well I’m sure you wouldn’t like it if I made him stop,” he opens and closes his fist.

“You wouldn’t hurt a puppy–”

“I’ll do what needs to be done,” he tilts his head.

“Ernie,” you call the dog, “quiet. Sit.”

The dog lets out a wispy boof but listens. He flops his butt down and glares at the man. You put your hands up and step forward.

“You’re mean. How can you threaten an innocent dog?”

“He drooled on my Jimmy Choo’s,” he says, “come on,” he grabs you by the back of the neck, “let’s go get the dumbass out.”

Ernie barks as you whimper. You flutter your hand at him as Lloyd’s fingertips pinch into your tendons, “Ern, it’s okay, I’m okay. Stay.”

He must hear the panic. He remains, restlessly shifting his front paws. You march beside the man back to the hallway. You reach to touch his arm and he only squeezes harder.

“Shouldn’t blame you for trying,” he says, “but I will.”

[blitzwhore]

Can I get uhhh 48 (kisses to shut them up) from the kiss prompt? And you know it's my favorite owl/imp disaster couple 💖

~stolitzsings 🌌✨️

Thank you for the prompt, @stolitzsings! ❤️ I had already answered it with a doodle here, but I decided to write Stolas shutting up Blitz with a kiss this time... Sort of.

Stolitz | ~950 words | Teen and Up | Angst, hurt/comfort, Blitz is bad at feelings, hurt Blitz, sad Stolas, hopeful ending

On AO3

Blitz's fingers were gentle as they untied the knot holding the blindfold over Stolas’ eyes, keen on not pulling at his feathers accidentally.

Stolas could've undone it himself, of course, but he always preferred having Blitz take care of him, especially after such an intense scene.

As the blindfold fell, Stolas blinked quickly to adjust to the lighting. He'd been instructed to blindfold himself and wait naked in bed for Blitz's arrival this full moon, which had been exhilarating beyond measure, but it did make his eyes hurt now after being blindfolded for so long.

When he was able to look down, he was greeted by the wonderful sight of a naked Blitz, who was trailing his fingers down Stolas’ chest, burying the tips under his feathers to press into his skin. Stolas sighed at the small, grounding touch. His whole body was oversensitive, and trembled under such a careful caress.

Blitz seemed lost in thought as his fingers descended to Stolas’ stomach. It made Stolas a little breathless to be able to share this moment with Blitz, to be seen and felt like this. It was a reaffirmation that this moment was real—that what they had together was tangible, though tentative; that it was soft, and careful, and real.

When he caught Stolas staring, though, something in Blitz's expression broke, and their delicate moment was shattered. The soft-hued awe that had been washing over Blitz's expression turned into a grimace as he looked quickly away.

Blitz made as if to take his hands off Stolas, but Stolas couldn't bear it. He clutched them with his own, needing to keep them selfishly close to himself. A silent prayer, the words too vulnerable to say out loud. Please, let yourself stay in this moment with me.

Desperate to close the emotional distance, he thumbed at Blitz's knuckles, hoping he would look back and meet Stolas’ gaze.

That was when he noticed them.

Wounds and gashes were littered across Blitz's knuckles, his white skin split messily open. And bruises, dark and angry, bloomed underneath. Worried, he tried to touch his finger to a bruise, but Blitz pulled back harshly, holding his hands close to his chest and away from Stolas.

“Blitz—”

“Don't—” he interrupted, brows furrowing. “Just—don't, Stolas.”

It hurt to breathe, but for a much more unpleasant reason now. He couldn't bear to see Blitz like this. So distant. So terrified.

He couldn't bear that, somehow, despite the care and the intimacy and the physical closeness between them, they always inevitably ended up here: the ground split open underneath them, a wedge that just couldn't be bridged.

Stolas sat up on the bed, and Blitz turned away from him, back hunched and legs curled under himself.

“Look, I just—I ran out of bullets on a mission,” Blitz murmured. “Nothing for your feathered ass to worry about, ‘kay?”

Stolas opened his mouth, but… what was there to say? He couldn't comprehend what was going on in Blitz's mind, and to ask, or to attempt to explain how much he did worry, would just drive them further apart. All he could do was ache, and hope if he breathed quietly enough, Blitz wouldn't be scared completely away.

“It's just a few stupid cuts anyway, it's not like it hurts,” Blitz retorted, disdain clear in his voice. Barely audibly, he added, “You weren't supposed to see them.” And hugged himself around the waist, tail curling around his leg.

He looked so painfully, unbearably small.

“Blitz—”

“I'm sorry,” Blitz said brokenly. “I didn't mean to ruin your night. It's whatever. I should just—I should just go.”

Stolas ached.

“I mean, I'm sure you don't care that much anyway. I'm probably being stupid. It's fine. I'm fine. Just text me whenever you're done with the book, and I'll come get it. Or you can swing by if you prefer. Or send it over, if you don't want to see me—”

Stolas couldn't bear it any longer: crawling closer, he rested his hands on Blitz's arms and pressed his beak to Blitz's shoulder in a soft kiss, which thankfully made Blitz go quiet. 

He dragged out the kiss, using the opportunity to breathe Blitz in and bask in the warmth of his skin.

When he eventually pulled back, Blitz looked dangerously close to tears.

Stolas wanted nothing more than to hold Blitz close to himself—to bury him in his chest and not let go until Blitz felt safe.

Instead, knowing Blitz would not allow himself to be so vulnerable around Stolas, he simply cradled Blitz's cheek with a hand, thumbing softly at his cheekbone.

Blitz didn't move away from the touch. Still, he wouldn't look Stolas in the eye, his gaze trained on the bed instead.

It wasn't enough, not nearly so. But it would have to do. If the alternative was for Blitz to push him fully away, then this fragile tolerance of comfort would simply have to do.

That was what Stolas kept telling himself, even if it broke his heart. Even if he didn't know how long he could keep going with just the breadcrumbs of true connection.

Even if he knew, deep down, that he would eventually have to be the one to let go, or this half-happiness, this barely-out-of-reach love, would break him beyond repair.

“Please, stay,” Stolas breathed, hoping it was the right thing to say. “I understand if you'd rather leave, but I—I would rather you stay.”

After a second that lasted an eon, and during which Stolas held his breath and braced for the worst, Blitz closed his eyes and nodded against his palm.

“Okay,” he murmured, taking the shy glint of hope in Stolas’ heart and setting it helplessly ablaze. “I'll stay.”