#i don't like men except the ones who come with pillows included

[smol-soop-spoon]

Personal headcanon that Henry Marchbanks Winter has the biggest, juiciest, most perfectly plush-yet-firm manboobs

[mono-dot-jpeg]

conversations and quality time - d. malleus, s. idia, h. rook, & t. ace

summary; "i want a man who can yap, so i can enjoy his existence and ignore my own." - me

genre/extra tags; scenarios/hcs, shamelessly writing about my type of men, ranking (but not really) twst boys based of how much i would enjoy their yapping when im feeling empty, fluff, slightly comedy, ace is a loveable dickhead, idia and i are nearly one in the same (im sorry), gaming knowledge included (knowledge not required, it's funnier), rook is rook (and i love that for him), established relationships with all (dating), mischaracterization probably, reader is NOT YUU, written by someone who wishes to have moments like these with a friend, idia is my obvious favorite here im not sorry abt it

a/n; as the summary says. i thought of this like,,, at midnight and i thought abt characters i like and how they would ramble bc i love asmr where people just talk since i slept a lot surrounded by people talking casually during parties and it helps me just silence the raging storm in my mind about being a shitty adult

malleus draconia finds you with no troubles. he always knows when you're available most of the time. and he's always excited to be around his human companion. and he's even more excited to just spend time with you in general.

he could talk on and on for hours. and he does just that when he knows that you're not feeling very talkative or when you're feeling non-verbal. sometimes you just want to enjoy his presence, you like being in the moment. he doesn't question it at all. he knows that sometimes you might not catch everything he's saying, but he can't find it in himself to be frustrated at you.

his voice is so tender and gentle when it comes to being around you. just the right amount of deepness without sounding too rumbly(?). he talks about his interests or his day. sometimes, he even talks about his home if he feels like it. he lets you lay all over him if you want, while he talks. occasionally, he just stops talking to bask in your presence and how much he loves you.

he would read you a story if you asked him

10/10 would fall asleep to his voice

never gets mad if it happened

peak quality time

he would even sit in silence with you if you wanted to

idia shroud is the type of guy to not say anything about his interests until you ask. so you gotta initiate first, and then he just starts... and he doesn't stop. you ask one thing about the game he's playing all of a sudden, he's talking to you about this moba game that has shitty adcs and bad junglers? you might not understand anything of what he's saying, but he's so cute when he's passionate.

depending on the game he's talking about, his voice can change pretty quickly. he's a little squirrel-y but that's the charm of it all. he's more emotional about things that he would like to admit. crying over a lost 50/50 chance for his ssr roll, yelping upon getting dove under tower by 4 other players, complaining about grinding for materials for the newest armor set, laughing about how everyone is bad at the game except him then proceeding to cry about how he's bad at the game upon dying after his previous statement.

the only time he is calm is when he's lying in bed with you. he's still a little panicky, but that's just how he is. he ends up playing his mobile games to calm himself down. if you're lucky, you crawl into his arms without making him too flustered. (he's still getting used to having you in his arms and not a plain pillow.) this section is getting long, but his voice is quiet (when he's not playing a pvp game), deep but not as deep as malleus, but his voice is still like a warm fresh baked cookie or as warm as a nice home. and when he's just whispering to not disturb you... god, what i would do to make that happen for me..

god i love him.. he would do his damn hardest to make sure you're comfortable

he's not one for silent quality time imo

9/10 if you like gamer vibes, 5/10 if you don't like loud

but i love loud but not deafening.

the kind of person i would fall asleep in a discord chat with (not even a discord kitten joke. /gen)

rook hunt doesn't need to even be seen to be spending time with you. you somehow match his freak, and don't find yourself being scared when you feel his lingering presence. for all the compliments and praises he sings every day, he's also very quiet when he wants to be.

you've been dating him long enough to see him as a guardian angel more than a hunter, and he knows it. during the times he does decide to actually be around and not hide in a tree, he's the type of guy to gently praise you until you sleep or talk about every detail about you that he adores.

his voice is low and sweet. he talks quietly with an elegant softness that most pomefiore members are trained to have. when he speaks about things of beauty, he holds an air of admiration and adoration. it's mostly evident when it comes to you.

he would cure all my insecurities

he's so caring, he's literally that cute drawn emoji of just "holds in hands gently"

8/10, i can't handle too much praise, i simply die /j

giving guardian angel in an oddly endearing way

he is gentlemanly elegance !!

ace trappola is a tsundere. you hate to hear it. but he is, sometimes. but he's deceptively caring. he's grumbling about just simply wanting to sit around and do nothing but be near each other but he loves it. he's the one who somehow gaslights you (jokingly) into just sitting together or laying together into moments like these. he'll complain but he's giving you a blanket or tugging you into his hold while he's muttering like a grumpy kid.

he really is the kind of boyfriend who is really a best friend before anything. he's definitely sharing gossip and yapping away as you sit there in his arms, enjoying the way he speaks with energy and drama. he's a little dramatic but when is he not? though there's definitely been a moment where he drops some random lore/gossip about some person and you can't help but laugh in shock because how did he get this information?

his voice is kind of warm? it's hard to explain, but his voice is warm and has a natural mischievous tone to it. he talks to you like you've been around him for years and not just when you first met around the first days of being at nrc. he talks to you like you were his first friend. he's endearing.

he would annoy you if you fell asleep while he was talking

would poke, prod, squish whatever bit of body his hands could get to

9/10, -1 bc being ticklish with ace around is a play fight waiting to happen

giving friends to lovers sweethearts and i love it

we love a grumpy but loving boyfriend !!

[roseluxxx]

Come on in.

- Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) X Reader

Warnings: 17+ content, sexual mentions, sexual actions, not explicit like full on but high key rubbing, language, british people

Word Count: 1k

Before Reading: Hypatia was a beautiful philosopher who was killed by men after she gained influence over a Roman ruler, You are dating alr in this and you come over to his place for the first time.

____________________________________________

“Aight, come on in; it’s messy but it’s sum’.”

The room was littered with colorful, sporadically placed punk rock posters with great philosophers and artists, including Van Gough and Hypatia, scattered throughout them. You followed Hobie in as he went straight for his bluetooth system, changing the music to one of his favorite songs.

*Wow. Never thought you'd know Hypatia, much less like her." Hobie nodded mindlessly as he scrolled through song after song, switching between an infinite amount of genres that had no correlation.

"Yeah, men are dicks. She was a brilliant mind; would've loved me you know.”

You laughed in agreement, plopping on his bed as you took in every painting on the ceiling and pattern filling the room.

“Damn, this place is amazing." Your comment was met by a laugh, almost a scoff as he tossed you his spotify playlist and told you to pick something, he didn't care.

"Amazing is an understatement. This place is art." He shoved his hands in his vest pocket and stalked to the bed, having half the mind to kick his shoes off before he made himself comfortable.

You observed the clashing colors and wonky furniture pieces that seemed not to go together until you looked at it from exactly that angle. They weren't meant to go perfectly hand in hand. Except that some of them did. Didn't look like a set but the textures and patterns matched beautifully.

Whipped out of your trance in an instant, you looked up to see Hobie snapped his fingers in-front of you, a bored look on his face.

"Hello? Anyone home? If ur tired just take a nap I don't mind, truly.”

You shook your head, grabbing his hand out of instinct and pulling him closer to you.

"I'm not tired but if you wanna lay down for a bit.. whatever."

He smirked, “Yeah it's never whatever with you but.. whatever."

He slid in next to you, laying on his back as you cuddled up on his chest, his hand finding your hair and playing with it loosely.

The windows placed on cornering walls had their blinds open just enough for the last rays of the golden sun to shine on the bed. Thankfully not in your face.

You finally spotted Hobie's guitar when you felt his hand slip under the hem of your shirt.

You looked up to a face still staring at the ceiling with an almost bored expression (but you caught the glimpses of a knowing smile peeking through).

Oh.

You guided your hand on top of his, pushing it that much further down your torso as you tried your best to steady your breathing.

Feeling his other hand pull a pillow to cover his lap from behind him, you urged his hand lower.

Faster.

A mumbled curse fell from his lips and he flipped himself over on top of you, facing you head on and removing his hands in favor of placing them right beside your head.

"Let's not play games now, yeah? I know what chu’ want," he looked at your lips distracted before he refocused himself, "and frankly I want the same. So let's not have a jest and be honest about it."

He sat up, grabbing your hand to let you follow suit as he let a few feet of distance separate you two.

"Just be honest with me darlin’.”

You took a deep breath. He was right. Just be honest.

" want you to fuc-"

Ok not that honest.

"I want you, Hobie."

He smiled, your face growing hotter by the second.

"Now that’s what I like to hear, yeah?"

He was on you in a moment. The soft fluttering kisses he laid across your face, starting at your forehead, made your heart pound. You extended your neck, closing your eyes as you let soft breaths fall when he crossed a particularly sensitive area.

He kissed down your collarbone, his hands falling to the hem of your shirt as he stopped instantly to look at you for any signs of hesitation. You nodded softly, a small smile leaving its mark as your shirt came swiftly off.

A moment passed as he just sat and admired you, his eyes roaming your body in an almost shy way. Like he's received a gift he's not used to getting but has never been so thankful to get it.

"Thank you," he whispered it like a prayer. Like a secret he's telling to just you.

"Hmm?"

He looked up, making eye contact at last as he repeated the phrase. You nodded telling him if he doesn't get on with it you'd never stop teasing him.

He does. Slowly. Sensually. Taking his time to explore every part before he reaches for your sweatpants and is met with a frantic halt and you sitting up on your elbow, an alarmed look blasted across your face.

"What? M’ going too fast? If you want you can take off my-"

"No, no- I mean yeah i'd love to- i mean, you know, if you'd want that but-“

Hobie takes your hand in his, a gentle expression staying on his face. “Nah, come on, get out of it. What’s up?”

You sighed avoiding eye contact as you allowed yourself to get to the point for once. Mumbling, you told him the issue, "it's just that i haven't shaved and i know we haven't talked about it but-“

Hobie stopped dead in his tracks, his face slowly lighting up with realization and.. laughter?

He evaporated in a contained outburst of chuckles as he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Baby, be honest with me, yeah? I swing around saving the world, almost dying a dozen times a day, and you think i'm gonna get scared off by a little hair on my girl?"

You let your shoulders relax, resuming breathing though you never noticed you had stopped.

You laugh softly, pushing your hair out of your face as your body physically relaxed.

“Yeah, I didn't think about that."

He tugged on your waistband and you helped him take your pants off, letting him kiss down your stomach and skip over to your inner thighs, moving down to your knee as his fingers traced patterns over your skin.

“Fuck you’re beautiful, you know that?”

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

Feel free to leave a comment or check out my latest Hobie fic here!

A/N: y’all’s comments are wild 😭

[larkral]

First Line Analysis

Thanks @kiwiana-writes for the tag! Apparently even though I've been back in fandom for two years, that doesn't equate to ten fics. So this includes the opening line from one of my ancient Battlestar Galactica fics. Which, honestly stands up IMO.

RULES: post the first lines of your last 10 fics/chapters posted on AO3 (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics) and try to draw some conclusions.

Lines

The Co-captain D-men Reveille (™, patent not yet pending) spits out a rapid guitar riff, the CD alarm and selection of Haus mix CDs randomizing their wake-up soundtrack to Infinity Guitars. (Friday Prime - a Check Please Ransom/Holster time loop fic)

The call comes at 3am. (finally (already, always) - a Carry On Snowbaz fic but let's be honest a love story to lesbian mums, still a WIP)

The ocean is a warped mirror, and the sun is glancing into my eyes from its every shifting peak. (Feet Burried in the Sand - a Carry On Snowbaz fic)

If you've never seen a MG in person, you aren't ready for it. (Three Months or 3,000 Miles - a Carry on Snowbaz fic)

It's very hot. (Visible at sea - an In Other Lands / Turn of the Story Sunbrat fic)

The day I became a Sophomore, as our dorms rotated down, my room was suddenly twice its previous size. (A Dangerous Affinity - a Carry On x Naomi Novik's Scolomance Snowbaz epic)

The first thing I noticed about Agatha was the line where her jaw slopes into her neck, the interplay of tendons and skin and bone: the sternocleidomastoid, the hyoids, the styloid process. (scapulae - a smutty femslash offshoot of A Dangerous Affinity, so technically a Carry On fic featuring Agatha/OC)

It’s been ages since I’ve walked in on Snow crying into his pillow. (Good at Something - a Carry On Snowbaz blowjob epic)

We’re leaving the movie theatre when Penny sees the ice cream shop. (Baby, it's cold - a Carry on Snowbaz+Stormchaser fluff-fest)

He wouldn’t say his ears are ringing, but there’s something vibrating just like that, his consciousness modulating on its axis. (An Arranged Meeting - a Battlestar Galactica Starbuck/Apollo sex club fic)

Analysis

Apparently I have two types of opening lines: SNAPPY AS FUCK and heavy with figurative language.

Literally none of these tell you who the POV character is. Apparently I like to keep that information close to my chest.

Most of these seem to be about establishing concrete details that will be relevant to the story. Only 2 and 8 don't do that work.

Looks like I'm into showing not telling. In context all of these lines except for 9 have meaningful emotional weight, but I'm going to make you work for it.

Tags below the cut!

Come join me in navel gazing about your writing! <3

@facewithoutheart @cutestkilla @hushed-chorus @sillyunicorn @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

@ileadacharmedlife @bookish-bogwitch @captain-aralias @petedavidsonscock @artsyunderstudy

@martsonmars @nausikaaa @nightimedreamersghost @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @that-disabled-princess

@shrekgogurt  @palimpsessed @fatalfangirl​ @blackberrysummerblog @wellbelesbian​

@j-nipper-95 @youarenevertooold @emeryhall @run-for-chamo-miles @talentpiper11 @mooncello

@run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire @monbons

[omg-hellgirl]

As you know, I love your posts. Here's a thought for you: we know (some of) what he put his girlfriends through. Do you ever wonder what he must have been like with his boyfriends? Given that most people agree that he was bisexual, he must have had quite a few. That's an interesting void in his official biographies.

I don't think it was very different. Bianca once said (allegedly) that "Mick screws many, but has few affairs." Maybe I wouldn't call them boyfriends, but there is at least one account of a man that P. Andersen included in his 2012 book, Mick: The Wild Life and Mad Genius of Jagger.

“Kevin” is the alias of a New York fashion designer who was a Stones groupie in the 1970s. He recalled that Mick was a regular at Manhattan’s gay nightclubs, including the 82 Club, Les Mouches, the Gilded Grape, and Galaxy 21 on West Twenty-third Street, where gay porn films were shown in the pillow room. At the Gilded Grape, Kevin remembered watching David and Angie Bowie, Mick, and Queen’s bisexual lead singer Freddie Mercury “whooping it up with a bunch of transvestites.”

[...]

After he’d picked the young fan’s brain (“He was superobsessed with appearance, with style. He was like a sponge”), the two started kissing and eventually wound up in bed. “Mick took the active role sexually. Basically he overpowered me in bed.”

After they woke up, Mick ordered up room service, and the two lay naked in bed eating from silver trays while, Kevin recalled, “people knocked on the door all morning long.” Whenever they bumped into each other after that encounter, Jagger “just stared blankly,” Kevin said. “Mick always pretended not to notice me.”

Although there are no extensive details of his involvement with men, Mick seems like a creature of habit and pattern, seeing how he treated all women without exception and this short account from Kevin. I personally believe there wasn't much difference in his treatment. Man or woman, he used and discarded them like a change of clothes without much thought. In my opinion, it has more to do with narcissism and arrogance than sexism.

Something interesting in Norman's book is that Cleo Sylvestre says that Mick insisted on having sex with her. Then she says that he invited her to meet his parents, which she refused for her own reasons. Chrissie Shrimpton said that weeks after she and Mick started something, Mick invited her to meet his parents. She accepted. There was no one there. Not even Chris. It was all an excuse to have sex with her. Norman does not correlate these two incidents, despite them being intimately close in date. But what makes someone read this and think that Eva and Basil would actually be home when Cleo got there? Something to think about.

Just to complete, in Andersen's 1993 book ("Jagger Unauthorized"), Bianca is quoted as saying:

"They are all nobodies trying to become somebodies," Bianca said of the women who paraded through her husband's life. "It's very strange. The mystique of women thinking they've made it if they've slept with Mick. It shows such a lack of respect for themselves. He finds it repugnant. Nothing could be less of a turn-on. "

Also from Jagger Unauthorized:

Christopher Gibbs said that often when he dined with Jagger, women who had slept with him would come up to the table and "he'd have absolutely no idea who they were. "

His treatment of Kevin, a man, seems similar to what Bianca mentions. After some sex, it's not uncommon for Mick to pull away from the woman or man. Consistent with Kevin's account. Mick didn't even remember who they were.

Just to top it off (again), David Bowie could perhaps be classified as a boyfriend and not just a one-off, but Angie Bowie makes it clear in her book that Mick is exactly like David. They would fuck anything. They couldn't get along more brilliantly than that. The men Mick was allegedly involved with, like Andy Warhol, had a professional relationship beyond sex so Mick couldn't just exclude them from his life. If there was any "boyfriend" that he didn't treat like trash, it was probably because they were part of his circle of friends and perhaps there was a professional relationship. In my opinion, it's not a gender issue at all.

Thank you for your kindness, I like chatting about this.

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2023 No. 14 - Flare

Scogan Bingo challenge Soulmate: You feel the same sensations your soulmate is feeling (pain, touch, sexual)

Since it was Jean's death, to blame for triggering this whole thing in the first place, it wasn’t too extraordinary that at first, no one, including Scott and Logan, even noticed.

Hell, they'd just lost a woman they had both loved, each in their own way; of fucking course, they felt similarly shitty in the few days following the clusterfuck that had been Alkali Lake. None of their teammates, or of the children and teenagers at Mutant High, expected anything different from either of them than locking themselves up in their respective apartments right now.

Well, Logan for his part would at least not have put it beyond that obsessive asshole he was calling a team leader to dive back headfirst into his work immediately, admittedly. Or to train himself to death in the Danger Room.

Anything just to forget the same pain that Logan was drinking away in his living room in a not much healthier way, with one bottle of the hard stuff after the other on his lips. Silently, mostly unmoving, ignoring occasional headaches and rare bouts of nausea behind his forehead as his healing factor was, curiously, slightly busier than usual dealing with that auto-assault.

But … no. Judging by the few shy status updates that Marie was giving Logan whenever she came by uninvited with a tray of the most necessary carbs and coffee, Scott, at least until the morning of the funeral planned, was indeed barricading himself in that flat on the other side of the hallway. From time to time, he was giving the other residents a life sign by picking up, unseen at night, one of the water bottles from the otherwise untouched supplies that the other X-Men or the pupils kept leaving outside his door. No one had seen him since that quick trip to Washington after the Alkali Lake crisis but whenever an especially bad bout of memory and regret hit, Logan could hear the guy hurl some shit against the walls or sob particularly uncontrolled.

He was mildly confused every time how much that hurt from someone whom he suddenly found, he wasn’t loathing half as much as he'd used to anymore. Dwell on that, he didn’t for now, though; for that, he was far too busy screaming into his own pillows and questioning all his life choices. And make it to the bathroom as gracefully as possible every now and then, in spite of some weirdly intense dizziness in his head, as if drinking for a week nonstop was too much even for a feral. Getting rid of whatever body fluid even his robust system couldn’t just sweat out was all he could bring himself to for now, before going back to nursing the next drink. Not like he could have gotten up to much right now anyway, with that bitch of a headache. Which was just as well. Logan wasn’t the type to sit down in a black tie in a row together with other mourners and listen to speeches about a dead person from people who surely hadn’t even known Jean well enough to be qualified to hold one. He would have stayed the fuck away from that ceremony in the backyard either way. Accordingly, only a warning, dismissive growl came from his lips when Ororo entered his apartment without even knocking, signaling him with an unambiguous gesture to get off his ass, while Logan's enhanced senses could pick up in the distance that everyone was gathering in said garden. "'m not coming, so fuck off. I don’t do funerals."

"I don't give a shit what you usually do." Ororo only smiled bitterly when he winced at the expression feeling too crude for someone always looking and expressing themselves so ethereally. A gesture that dug deep lines around the downward-pulled corners of her mouth that Logan had never noticed before. Alkali Lake had let everyone – except for him, naturally – age 10 years or so. "Will you get up voluntarily or do I need to douse you with some rain? Honestly, the way you smell I'd do us all a favor."

"I said I'm not …"

Logan paused with a frown and tensed when the familiar bright voice of the mansion's leader from a certain apartment next door suddenly shouted Ororo's name, in an unusual breaking, upset tone. Charles had apparently tried the same job Ororo had come to Logan for … And whatever the guy had found in what had once been Scott's and Jean's apartment was obviously off.

With a curse, Logan jumped up when unexpected, bone-deep worry surged through him, cursing himself for not checking in person on that goddamn idiot over there at least once in the last few days. Maybe Scott was in a far worse condition than they'd all thought after all and had decided to try and end that miserable existence of his while everyone was busy in the garden … Logan didn’t get a chance to check because he suddenly had to hold on to the sofa backrest, his legs almost giving in under him as that weird dizziness and throb behind his forehead returned, too strongly to follow Ororo's hectic footsteps outside. Fuck, alright, no more vodka, at least for a few hours … How much his body was really betraying him for some reason, he only realized when an inhumane, gruesome pain like a blade to his guts suddenly hit his right upper belly, so strong that it got him to his knees at last, with strangled groans on his lips. What the …? Anyone not familiar with the characteristics of ferals would probably have told him now that it served him just right, after drinking basically his weight in booze for a week, that his liver threatened to give in on him out of the blue, only that didn’t make any fucking sense …

"Logan, we got an emergency. You need to take Scott …" Ororo, on her way back inside his apartment, froze on the spot when she saw him cowering there on the alcohol-stained carpet with a grimace of agony on his lips, clutching both his side and his head as he was trying in vain to breathe through whatever the fuck was happening. A look somewhere between utter bewilderment, a hint of amusement, and growing shock had the color drain even more from that beautiful face as Ororo covered it with one hand, slowly shaking her head. "You gotta be kidding me …"

Logan didn’t get around to asking what kind of fucking epiphany the woman thought she was having. Another stab into his brain as if he'd attacked himself with his own claws drew a scream from his lips while something in his belly felt like it was exploding, and suddenly the world went black.

*****

"If this is your idea of humor, Windrider …" Technically, Logan had been feeling significantly better upon waking up. The explanations as to why that was, both from Ororo and from some weird blue furry guy who was in the process of moving into Mutant High to take over Jean's medical duties, apparently, immediately made him nauseous again though. Not to mention the insignificant little detail that he couldn’t even have gone up from that damn medical stretcher to try and run and hide from what he'd just been told, even if he'd been willing to leave Scott alone in the sick bay with two apparently clinically insane people. Exhaustion was sitting in every cell of his body and his mind, making every movement hard work. He was slurring his words, his attempts to wrap his brain around why that was significantly slowed.

And all of that … allegedly thanks to the man in the bed standing next to Logan's. More specifically thanks to the huge IV bags of narcotics that Scott was being hooked to.

This had to be a joke, this couldn’t be happening …

"Do you see us laughing? No one in this house has any spoons left for stupid pranks right now." After checking on Scott's artificially slowed but fortunately steady vitals again that the monitor belonging to all the fancy alien tech equipping these halls displayed, fur guy came to stand next to Ororo. The way, he rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment, squeezing it softly spoke of those two going way back. Sharing many of Logan's feral characteristics, Hank must also be smelling the growing exhaustion in Ororo, a lack of proper nourishment, and especially the tears trying to come to the surface again and again. The woman wasn’t grieving any less than Scott and Logan did, and that their embarrassing little health stunt had made another delay of the funeral necessary surely didn’t help start processing the recent tragedy.

Logan was feeling sorry for her but with what was about to wreck his life harder than one of Ororo's hurricanes all of a sudden, he didn’t have emotional energy left for comfort right now. "You guys just told me I'm trapped in a forced marriage, so forgive me for calling bullshit on some pseudo-science fairy tale, King Kong."

"No one's forcing anything on you." Apparently sensing, Logan was feeling honestly more upset and lost by the second, Ororo changed from her chair to the bedside after giving Hank's paw a brief squeeze, and gently took Logan by both shoulders, effectively stilling his weak attempts to sit up even a little. When she bent over him, she scrunched her nose, blinking rapidly, for a second, causing Logan to make a mental note about maybe visiting a bathroom soon for something else than relieving himself after all. "Try to lie still, please. As long as we have to keep Scott under, your body won't let you go anywhere either. I'm sorry this is happening to you two, Logan, I mean it. No one saw that coming or could prevent it. It's fate, accident, a higher power, call it whatever you want. No one knows. The reason you haven’t heard about soul bonds before is that they're so rare, we didn’t even have an entry in our database of phenomena so far. If I didn’t happen to know two cases from my African homelands, we might not even have realized what's wrong with you two before it would have been too late. As this is a one-in-a-million thing, there's no records and hardly any science on it. We're basically flying blind here. You two are bonded in your minds now; that much we know. And as far as anyone knows, that condition is irreversible. But whatever you make of it, is only your choice."

"Some kind of choice." Logan snorted and turned his head away from the compassionate look in Ororo's dark eyes because he wasn’t sure he could deal with pity right now. Now his gaze was right back on that tall but worryingly thin shape on the neighboring bed, and that wasn’t much better. He wanted to be pissed at this guy just for existing more than ever. Yet he tried in vain to conjure up the same childish rage from the beginning at someone who was so damn different from him … And yet, not least when it came to their job and their protective instinct regarding those close to them, at the same time so very similar. Logan had never managed, not before Alkali Lake and especially not after Jean's death, to make any sense of how his feelings about this man had changed with time, into something that went far beyond respect for a strong leader. Into something that, at first glance, by the usual boring, standard social morals, hadn’t seemed to fit his affectionate yearning for Jean at all. And now he sure as fuck knew even less how to deal with Scott. "What choice do I got when you're telling me, he and I would probably be killing each other if we just ignore this? If I wanted to fuck off from here again for example? What do you think would happen then, if we feel everything in our body of what's going on with the other? I'm stuck here now, 'Ro, you know that as well as I do. Whatever plans I had for my own life, for finding my past, it's all fucked."

"Stop it with the doomsday funk. That's not like you." Ororo only grabbed his shoulders even harder to make him look at her again, and Logan could have sworn to see Scott slightly startle even in his induced sleep from the touch apparently indeed mirrored in the guy's mind. This was some fucked up shit, goddamnit. "I told you, we don't know anything for sure. But one of the theories is that telepaths are either knowingly or accidentally responsible for causing such phenomena with their powers. Which, by the way, you two might be contemplating once Scott is back to his feet. Maybe you can think of a certain someone who was trying to give you two a gift in her last moments alive, consciously or not." For a moment, Ororo's voice threatened to break but she put herself together when it was Logan this time, clumsily reaching for her hand on his arm. "I'm just saying, if this is a telepath thing, we happen to have one of the leading authorities on the subject in this house, you know. Charles already offered to engage in as many mental sessions with you two as is necessary until we get to the bottom of this. It's possible that with time, he can cut the bond. And until then? I'm pretty sure, with how fond that idiot over there is of you for some weird reason, he won't say no if you ask him for the occasional road trip to hunt down leads."

"Yeah, I'll pass on that until I educated the guy on bearable tunes," Logan gave back with a weak grin, an exaggerated shudder at the memory of a certain CD in Scott's car.

"Driver picks the music," Ororo reminded him with a weary chuckle, obviously glad, he could at least find something like a smile in him again in spite of the shitty situation. "For now, all you two need to do is take care of each other physically. What you make of that in the long run … If you can find it in you to explore what Jean might have thought could be between you there … That's only up to you guys. We'll help you with anything you need as much as we can, that at least I can promise you."

Logan ran a still very heavy hand through his hair with an absent groan, not even close to sort out the emotional chaos in his head yet. But since he had to anyway, he might be getting at least a little closer to trying now. Starting with that he'd be obviously obliged to be a lot more informed about the sick bay file of one Scott Summers than he'd ever cared for. "You can start by telling me why exactly I'm lying around here as if Rogue's just kissed me unconscious instead of spending another evening with my best friend Vladimir on the sofa."

"Yeah, about that." Hank cleared his throat with a scathing look distorting his animalistic features. "No more benders unless you two are both on holiday and you've cleared with Scott that he's okay with spending hours knocked out on the sofa. That your healing factor can deal with an amount of booze that would kill anyone else doesn’t mean he will be okay with being forced into a delirium without even touching a single glass."

"Yeah, well, tough shit, I'm not becoming abstinent because someone can't hold their liquor," Logan grumbled, fully knowing already that he wouldn’t be touching the same amount of alcohol anytime soon. Mostly because Scott was a lot more fun to spar with, both with words and in the gym, when he was of a sane mind. "Besides, you said, what we're feeling from each other is only sensation and not the actual cause, so it obviously wasn’t me who knocked Scooter out by accident. Wanna tell me why you really got him on a dozen needles?"

"Drug overdose," Ororo answered for Hank, surprisingly sober for a tidbit that punched into Logan's stomach like a steeled fist, trying to stir up that guilt again that he hadn’t checked on that stupid idiot across the hall in time. "Not what you think," she added immediately, to his relief, squeezing his hand again firmly. "I don't suppose you happened to wonder why you suddenly can’t hold your liquor anymore?" She demonstratively tapped her forehead with two fingertips, nodding jerkily when Logan's eyes went wide. "It's a flare of the particularly nasty kind. We think it's Jean's death that caused it. Intense emotional stress tends to cause mutation gifts to evolve. In Scott's case, that always means that his optic blasts are growing even more powerful, and that's always bad news. Since he can't control it and his shields need to hold back his powers all the time, there's basically nonstop pressure from the recoil on his brain. That's always been a problem. I don't know Scott other than on his weekly Advil ever since we met. But right now, the pain must be unbearable enough that he's almost shredded his liver to pieces with those damn pills. Nothing that Shi’ar medicine and tech can't fix, but unless we want to give him a complete physical overhaul to prevent organ failure every half a year or so from now on, we need to find a solution for this, somehow. Charles is already trying to contact the Shi’ar, to see if they have an idea. Unfortunately, with their ships millions of lightyears away, it can take months until such a conversation happens."

"And until then …?" The frown of honest concern and compassion on Logan's face deepening, he finally managed to sit up a little, relieved when Ororo got the silent, slightly embarrassed hint of his eyes darting to the unmoving figure on the other bed, and pulled the stretcher closer so that Logan could rest one trembling hand on Scott's arm. He shuddered instinctively when he felt how much weight Scott really had lost in those last few days alone. No wonder Logan had felt the need to fill his own stomach with as much fluid as possible. Yeah, that definitely wasn’t continuing, for reasons of self-protection alone. It was Logan's job now to look out for that guy … And with time, maybe, he'd be able to decide if that happened only because, while his body was equipped to deal with pain, Logan had never been a masochist. Maybe in truth, it was for a reason, he'd become an integral part of this team in the short time between Alkali Lake and Liberty Island, becoming a living shield, especially for this guy. Maybe it also wasn’t chance that it had been him and none of the others, to hold Scott in the moment of Jean's death when they'd both felt something crucial in their life break away, fall apart … Not realizing, something maybe just as important had been given to them in turn.

"Until then he'll have to try and get by with sensory reduction, as much rest as possible, and every amount of painkillers that his system can take," Hank explained gravely, sounding audibly unconvinced and unhappy with such a makeshift solution. "I can wake him up as soon as the Shi’ar tissue adhesive is done repairing his liver and stomach, and I guess he'll be out of here by the end of the week, but don't expect to see him return to work anytime soon. I hate to say this, but this might be a good time to consider taking over leading duties for either of you two."

"Yeah, not gonna happen, King Kong." Logan didn’t even need to look back at Ororo to know there was a similar look on her face. Neither of them was suited for the front row permanently; this was entirely out of the question. Not to mention that Logan was pretty sure that if Scott was now to lose the only other thing in his life he was so used to obsessing about? The next thing with regard to these shared sensations that Logan would have to witness was his own heart stopping to beat when the guy would throw himself on some sword or cut his wrists. The alternative wasn’t something that exactly thrilled him either … Then again, on second thought, maybe the idea vaguely forming in him right now would at least be a stale replacement for drinking his worries away which was notoriously off the table for the moment. "Those famous Shi’ar drugs you got there, McCoy ... Think there's some painkillers among them that'd do anything for me?"

"With your healing factor? Huh. We'd need to run a few tests, I suppose." Hank paused for a moment, rubbing through his beard with a thoughtful hum, not quite catching on yet what Logan was suggesting while Ororo already stared at him in both bewilderment and a good deal of respect and gratefulness. "You'd still be burning through the substances a lot faster than anyone else, but with an IV big enough … I guess we could get you through a couple of hours. I don't see why you'd need that though. Your body can repair pretty much anything within a couple of minutes, so there's no need to numb anything for you …" He paused, his glance falling on Scott's lifeless shape when he finally understood, and almost dropped the datapad he'd been swiping around on. "Careful there, Wolverine. You keep this up, they'll start calling you a nice guy."

Logan showed the guy an extended middle claw just for good measure and let out a silent curse when he saw Scott startle and stiffen again in his sleep, until the usual burning and stinging from the closing wounds on Logan's knuckles subsided. Well, that made it official: He was forbidden from anything fun from now on. So that was what being Scott Summers was like. Welcome to the experience or something. "Shut it, King Kong. Yes or no?"

"Charles will have to manipulate himself another trust fund just to finance the resupplies of all these extraterrestrial drugs that we're gonna need." Hank tiredly rubbed his eyes behind his narrow glasses for a moment but showed a lopsided grin then. "He's very fond of his current team constellation though so that's probably going to be a much smaller headache than our young captain here is dealing with right now. Come on, Ororo, I think we're needed for an urgent staff meeting in Charles' office. I trust you'll keep an eye on things here for us, Logan."

Logan had another vicious remark on his lips about hardly having a choice in the matter. But it was with quickly increasing resignation he found, amazingly, maybe he didn’t even want one.

*****

The first few days were hell. And that had nothing to do with the constant nausea and annoying fatigue from being hooked to aggressive chemicals for half an hour every morning.

Scott, to everyone's confusion, took the news far more composed than Logan had. Side effect of having been in a relationship with a telepath for years, Logan supposed. At least a mental bond wasn’t exactly anything new for Scott. Plus, the guy was still far too traumatized from Alkali Lake to get his panties in a knot even about making close acquaintance with someone he'd only used to fight with for the better part of their time together so far. Besides, with how blindly the dude trusted that shade bag Xavier still, after everything, he was probably having all his hopes on this annoying condition being reversed someday. Or he had decided that almost offing himself by accident over one life-shattering incident in his life was more than enough for the time being and that he had no emotional capacity right now, lamenting over a couple of inconveniences.

Logan couldn’t even loathe that compartmentalizing asshole enough for being so unfazed, to drown out the growing attachment he felt to him, with every hour they inevitably spent from that day on more. And there were lots of those. Finding a mutually useful working rhythm for their new life situation was about as exhausting as anyone would expect. When everything going on in someone else's body was inevitably mirrored on your own, you couldn’t help but deal with it, explore it, possibly reverse it if it was anything bad. Truth was, Scott and Logan hadn’t talked that much in all that time that they'd been knowing each other. And with each thing, Logan came to learn about that supposedly rich kid douche whom he'd wanted to punch in the face in his first days at Mutant High, he felt more like a fucking idiot.

Thanks to his amnesia, there was obviously not a lot he could return the favor with, of learning about atrocities in Scott's life like teenage drug trades, Essex and a lot worse captivities than with Weapon X. But Logan at least tried not to be a total asshole when Scott unambiguously told him, for example, that one glass of booze at night was more than enough and that he could very well do without feeling like having a heart attack in the gym every day, just because Logan couldn’t control his caffeine intake.

Logan, on his part, quickly cured Scott of the habit of using the damn bathroom far too rarely because not everyone had the height of a damn tree and the bladder size to go with it. Logan's kink list did not include a constant pressure to piss, thank you very much. He also made very sure to drag Scott to Hank every other hour, in spite of all cursing and resistance, whenever Logan felt something else sting, burn, throb in his body that definitely did not belong there and that Scott had never bothered to get checked out in all these years. Those Shi’ar scanners and tools got a lot to do in that first adjustment period.

And no matter how much Scott pretended to hate him for this every time, he never failed to come by Logan's apartment afterward with a six-pack for another evening of watching some game on the couch until they both fell asleep in their respective corner. Their yelling matches in the first three months after Jean's death were legendary, they were told later, but at some point, miraculously? They had sorted it all out.

The fact that at this point, Logan had also basically moved into Scott's apartment because that had simply made things easier, was just a side note in their very personal little soap opera. It never failed to amaze Logan how comfortable he'd become in Scott's presence, so much that he didn’t even really think about it anymore when he fell asleep on that damn couch to the sound of some game or waded into the shower half-asleep in the morning. Which helped to get at least somewhat awake before their usual drug session at the sick bay that was keeping Scott's headaches at a manageable bay for the rest of the day. Maybe, some things, you didn’t need to question. It was a quickly familiar rhythm of recovering, teaching, waiting for good news from Charles' office in vain, and another evening of either a friendly chat on that couch or watching their favorite teams fuck up on TV in comfortable silence, over leftovers or takeout. Something, Logan thought he could get used to in the long run. Accordingly, he didn’t even think about it that much when one of these nights, after the light had gone out, a certain natural urge hit. It was honestly surprising that this hadn’t happened before, given his feral instincts were usually very basic in that regard, just like about every other natural body function. With all that had happened lately, Logan had mostly just ignored the thought whenever it had come up, too exhausted or busy or both to follow it anyway. But feeling something like peace again after all the excitement, maybe for the first time in years, even, he found on that night, lying alone in the dark as so often, he was too riled up to fall asleep. He wasn’t too shocked anymore at contemplating if that maybe had to do something with walking into the bathroom to a stark naked Scott in the shower by accident earlier. That wasn’t a bridge either of them was even remotely ready to cross yet, and Logan had never been in a hurry about such things anyway. But denying that it was a remarkably attractive piece of behind on his mind right now, that he'd spotted there before creeping back out the door silently, would have been a lie. Or a, thanks to some resumed training very well-defined, broad shoulder line. Those sinfully long, strong legs … Definitely a nice image to recall when Logan slipped one hand into his loose sweatpants without thinking much about it, not surprised at how hard he suddenly was. This wouldn’t take long. Moving his fist up and down his aching length with his eyes firmly closed, he allowed himself to indulge in a fantasy he was no longer shying away from, of what would have happened if he hadn’t sneaked back out earlier, if he'd joined Scott in the shower instead, maybe … Exploring that attractive body with his hands and tongue, licking off every drop of water while he went to his knees for the guy, ever until that cute piece of ass would be right in his sight. A twitching, untouched hole just waiting to be devoured with his tongue while his hand would be busy, playing with those heavy, large balls …

"How about you get into my bed and we continue things there before you make us both come early, Claws?"

That low, hoarse voice from the direction of the bedroom had Logan startling so much, he promptly almost fell off that stupid sofa. Tearing his hand away from his straining erection, his cheeks were suddenly a bright red as he realized how thoughtless he'd been for a moment, not even considering that yes, of course, Scott would feel that too. Not the touch itself, not that, thankfully – not from their own hands, at least. That part at least, their connection had spared them. Which was not a given, as they'd found out painfully in the very beginning, during a sparring session in the Danger Room with the others. Neither of them was a very tactile person on principle; therefore, that every touch from someone else on their soulmate, they would experience themselves, too, hadn’t occurred to them until then. Not before the first full body check from a fully metal-encased shape ramming Scott's, promptly sending Logan flying to the ground from the pain as well. After that, they'd known better than not keeping their distance from people even more than before. That surely most inconvenient part of their connection though did not affect what they did to their own bodies themselves. So Logan had been neglectful for a moment, not even considering what kind of sensations giving in to this primitive desire might be causing inside his mate anyway ...

Seeing in the weak shine of Scott's bedside lamp now how flushed the guy's cheeks were, hearing him breathe slightly faster and irregularly, and spotting a definitely very interesting-sized bulge at the front of his night pants, Logan decided, maybe that had been one of his more sensible decisions lately.

Never bothering with a verbal answer, he got up and swung over the back of the sofa, more stumbling in his sudden hurry to get to Scott than walking. Ignoring the slight stinging on his own scalp as he buried both hands in his mate's hair, he pulled Scott down to him for a desperate kiss, moaning in need when he felt against his stomach how hard his lover was already, the air heavy with a hint of sweet salt and both their labored breathing. His tongue deeply slipping into Scott's mouth, Logan found with exasperated amusement, he needed to dial down on the cigars because the guy definitely tasted a lot better than he did.

But Scott didn’t seem to mind a lot, willingly opening his lips for him to let him in. Already, large, impatient hands stroked under Logan's shirt, raking through the fuzz on his chest, massaging and groping everywhere they could reach. A whimper came from Scott's lips when his fingertips found Logan's nipples and tugged, harshly enough for Logan to make a note about how rough his lover apparently liked it in bed. Then he startled with a sigh of pure pleasure as Logan bit down on his lower lip in retaliation, almost hard enough to draw blood. "Fuck … Need you … Want you, Logan …"

That last part, that was the important thing. That was what Logan had maybe needed to hear to act on these long-simmering desires. Because that they needed each other was clear ever since the day they'd been bonded, and neither of them had asked for that. But how much, how quickly and intensely they'd fallen for each other after that, that had been only their own decision. And now that Logan knew it had indeed been a mutual one, he was more than ready to finally give in to that wish to take their connection to the next stage. Unable to wait any longer, he dropped to his knees, casually pulling down Scott's pants as he went, his mouth already on that fine dark layer of hair on the base of his destination as he inhaled his lover's grounded scent deeply, his fingers clenching down on that beautiful ass just as he'd fantasized about it a minute ago. Logan had to try hard not to come on the spot when he immediately experienced that dominant hold on his own body – that was definitely something he still had to get used to in spite of all experiences of a similar kind in the last few months. Finally getting his mouth on the head of his lover's thick cock made it torture to hold back as he felt his own straining length worshipped with long, greedy licks, the pressure of a curious tongue, of tightly working throat muscles as he easily swallowed that beautiful piece of cock down, holding Scott in place by his grip on his lover's hips. Just imagining what it would feel like once he'd actually get around to playing with this perfect ass, to bury himself in that tight channel to the hilt, had Logan's head spin. He was pretty sure, there would be a lot of rings of a certain kind involved in the immediate future for such encounters, to keep his peculiar feral stamina from ruining things half a minute in, thanks to that assault of sensations from two sides at once … But for now, none of that counted. For now, he enjoyed simply his partner's taste on his tongue. The way, Scott was shaking and writhing under him and the pleading sound of his name on his lover's lips as Logan's hand was firmly closing down on the root of his cock, his balls, keeping both himself and his mate from coming too soon at the same time. With his head quickly bobbing back and forth, his tongue darting forward to tease Scott's loins, the underside of his cock again and again, Logan found every lingering anxiety and grief for everything that he'd lost in his life subside at least for the moment, drowned out by that double sensation of basically sharing one body with someone else. Something that he'd dreaded so much in the beginning and that now gave him an unexpected kind of peace in a period of his life when war was once more around the corner every single minute. When he finally loosened his grip around his lover and thrust his head forward tightly once more, swallowing firmly around Scott's jerking cock until he could feel his lover come straight down his throat, while spilling his own load all over his hand and the floor, Logan decided that maybe, Scott and he didn’t even need to worry that much about if Charles would ever make it to separate them again.

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

@scoganbingo

[adelior]

Name: Unconditionally

Author: R. Adelio

Genre: Romance, Minecraft, Comedy, Fluff

Main Lead: Technoblade, Dreamwastaken, DreamXD

Female Lead: Reader

Chapter: 2

Special Addition: Tchnomaid

Letters: 7,463

Tags: Kissing, Deep Kisses, Fluff

<- ->

You felt Niki wrap her arms around you, including Tommy and Tubbo. Fundy stood by the entrance with Eret leaning against the wall. "We thought you'd never come back" Niki admitted, tears pouring out of her eyes. "What do you mean? Did something happen?" Tommy pushed himself away from the embrace and looked at Wil, giving him a slight nod.

"Dream has taken away our traveling rights to the Nether. We only found out not too long ago, and when Niki told me you went to get spider eyes from the piglin market I was scared you were going to get trapped in there forever."

"And this is all because I trespassed their fucking territory?!" You questioned, clenching your fists. "Well," Fundy started, stroking his fingers through his hair. "Dream has always been seen as someone strict and demanding. I'm not surprised he's doing this. If we want to gain his trust back we need to go contact... him." He elaborated, making sure to exaggerate the last word.

"Him?" You, Tommy, and Tubbo asked in unison, confused on what Fundy meant. "Men who are on neither side, with odd genetics." Wilbur pinched the bridge of his nose, seeming disappointed that they'd have to go that far as to contact these 'Men'

"Oh!" Tommy perked up, instantly standing. "You mean Techno and Phil?! I haven't fucking seen them in ages! I wonder how they're doing" Eret cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention. "This might just be a rumor but I heard that they are no longer staying in the inn. They moved to a cold tundra where barely anyone inhabits"

"Tundra... We'll have to look more into it." Wilbur shrugged his jacket off, gently wrapping it around you. You looked into his eyes, you could see a mix of emotions, but you weren't too sure on what they were. "Everyone, except for [Name], get ready. We're going to be visiting an old friend."

"Wait a second, why can't I come-" You stood up, only to be stopped by Wilbur himself. "[Name], you still need to finish brewing the potions. Besides you don't know the vicinity well better than we do, you've only been here for a year and a hal-"

"But I don't want to feel useless Wil, please let me come with you I'll do anythi-" The brunette lifted his hand, causing you to stop in place as the rest of the group walked out of the nether portal room. Tubbo looked back, giving you a compassionate smile before following everybody else. "It's best if you stay here. That's an order as your Leader."

"Wh.." You stood there, completely in shock. Never have you experienced Wilbur giving you orders that you were against, especially because it made the both of you seem distant. "I'm sorry." Was all he said before walking away.

The rest of the day was spent alone in your office, lazily brewing the potions that you were ordered to finish. You understood why he made that decision, you knew better than to question his motives. But even so, leaving you alone in this empty house was suffocating.

You darted your gaze over to his leather jacket, the one he gently placed on your shoulders. It was enough to make your heart skip a beat. 'No, I shouldn't' Shaking your head, you put the ingredients away and placed the finished potion bottles into the chest.

Deciding that you should spend the rest of your day exploring the facility, you shrugged your sweater on and turned to follow a path that led to a cave once you left the building. Something that has been catching your attention ever since you arrived. You've never really explored this route, nor did you question anybody about it.

"Do not enter.." You mumbled as you softly swiped your hand over the carvings of the wooden sign. "Shit, then this is probably dangerous." Stepping back, you were about to turn around but you hear a faint voice coming from deep inside the cave, urging you to go further in.

"Come here, human." The voice singsonged, it was comforting yet deep, a voice that sounded similar to the one that Clay had. You looked back as a soft breeze escaped the entrance of the cavern. Usually, when facing obscure and suspicious areas such as this one, you tend to stir away, not wanting to cause any trouble.

But this is different, the voice is so soothing to the point your legs moved on their own. Panic surged through your veins, unable to stop yourself from going deeper into the cave. It was dark, you couldn't see anything but a singular light at the end of the tunnel.

"Good girl.." The masculine voice praised, your cheeks warmed, eyes tightly shut. You refused to see what was beyond you, feeling the presence of something much more superior than yourself. "What is the matter? Are you afraid of me?" It questioned, causing you to vigorously shake your head.

The being chuckled, crouching to your level until his face was close to yours. "I've never seen a beautiful human such as yourself before." He brushed a singular finger over your closed eyelids, only tempting you to open them. "What the hell are you..-" You asked, gulping as you feel its hand travel towards your neck.

You couldn't move, you were unable to lift a single hand. And even if you did you don't think you'd have the courage to hit whatever was in front of you. "It is futile for you to know who I am, human."

The both of you stayed in silence for a few seconds, until you feel the warmth of someone pressing their lips against yours. You quickly opened your eyes, only to be met with a dazzling emerald gaze. "What are y-" Once your lips parted, he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth where your muscles danced.

"Sleep my gem," You heard his voice in your head, "We will meet again soon." Darkness, the next second you saw nothing but the void. "This is simply a see you next time gift." He whispered against your mouth, a smirk breaking out.

Your body jolted forward, causing you to wake up from your slumber. You quickly looked around, scanning your surroundings, it was your bedroom. "What the hell, was that all just a dream?" The realization hit you when you blinked the tiredness away. 'I JUST MADE OUT WITH SOME RANDOM MAN IN MY DREAM-'

You slouched forward, pounding your fist against the bed. 'WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME-' The more you think about how the kiss made you feel the more your face burned. "UGHHHHHHHHHHH" Throwing one of your pillows towards the door, you didn't expect Wilbur to show up, the cushion hitting his face.

"Oh shit-"

Wil stared at you in confusion, pillow in hand. "Is something wrong?" He asked, walking to where you sat on your bed. "No, don't worry about it" You lied, darting your eyes anywhere but the man who you crushed on. The feeling of guilt surging through you as you recalled the 'dream'

"It doesn't look like it." He sighed, sitting at the end of your bed. "[Name], did something happen when we were gone?"

"HM?" You snapped your head towards him, causing the brunette to jump a bit. "Oh nothing at all, hahaaahhah" Awkwardly laughing, you forced out a cough. "Why do you ask-"

"Well... When we arrived you were passed out in your office. You seemed drained so I carried you here. It's been 19 minutes."

"Oh, I was just tired there's no need to worry!" Sitting there with a dumbfounded expression, the image of the man you kissed in your dream flashed in your head. 'Why am I so shameless..-' You silently cursed yourself for imagining it once more, a random man out of all things. Despite your reassuring words, Wil looked at you as if he had something on his mind.

"If you say so."

<- ->

ec: @quacobs (instagram)

[runwithwolvcs]

You Know I'm No Good - t w o

Temptation vs Freedom

Warnings (future chapters): Drugs/Alcohol, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Jealousy, Mental Health, (Mentions of SA, but no details)

I don't like memories because the tears come easily, and once again I break my promise to myself for this day. Its a constant battle . A war between remembering and forgetting.

Back in her darkened bedroom, Tallulah still couldn't wrap her head around her current situation. The rest of the night consisted of her being introduced to people who seemed to know more about her then she had wanted, clearly word spreads fast around La Push. Josie had introduced her to some of her friends that had arrived later, after the tribal stories. Clearly only there for the party. They seemed nice, but they were definitely not the type of people she would choose to be friends with herself.

Lenna had made herself scarce throughout the entire, to which her twin stated was typical behaviour. But Tallulah figured it had more to do with her presence than anything else. Tally couldn't help but look for the tan boy she had locked eyes with, something about him was so alluring. It was almost frustrating, Tallulah Forester doesn't get captivated by anyone, not ever. She was the captivating one, at least that's what Xander had always said. “You're like a tornado, with pretty eyes and a heartbeat. Luring in bystanders until you’ve ruined their lives..That's what I enjoy so much about you”, that was the last thing he had said to her before she had left his house party the night she had been caught. Their relationship was a mess, both of them struggling for control, even if it meant hurting each other in the process. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, but it was all she ever had. She craved it in an almost masochist way.

Tallulah's phone had been off all night, not in the mood to deal with the onslaught of messages she was sure to get, now that she had a moment to breath by herself she figured she may as well read them, 1 5 messages from Lina and 3 missed calls, her best friend, was more than likely freaking out, consumed by guilt over the fact that their lies to their parents had been crossed. 7 messages from Kit, who she figured was already trying to plan how to spin this to make herself the victim, as Kit does, and 1 lone message from Xander, the only one she read before she shut off her phone to go to sleep.

That sucks :(

Was all that it said.

-

After a lot of tossing and turning in the bed that was almost too soft, mixed with the pillows that weren’t soft enough, Tallulah drifted off to sleep. She dreamed of the boy who had taken her by storm, his smile seemed brighter than the sun and the way he laughed was like music to her ears. They were on a cliff overlooking the ocean, she could see that he was talking, but couldn't hear what he was saying, she watched as he stood up and walked towards the edge of the cliff, looking as though he was about to jump, she stood up in a panic--

Tallulah startled awake to Kira shaking her shoulder gently, a soft smile graced her face. It was raining, but Tallulah could tell it was early morning.

“Tally, sweetie, you’re dad and I would like to speak with you before he goes to a meeting” she said quietly, “Get dressed and meet us downstairs in ten minutes,” she spoke, the smile never leaving her lips. Tallulah groaned, not one to be a morning person in the slightest, she swung her legs out of bed, toes touching the cool hardwood floors. She could hear low murmurs outside her door as she heaved herself out of bed, still not used to her surroundings she walked to her two duffle bags and sifted through the clothes before settling on an oversized, green long sleeve to cover the stick and poke tattoos that littered her arms, with ripped, loose, blue jeans. One disappointment at a time, she thought to herself as she got dressed. She grabbed her hairbrush from her bag and ran it through her hair, leaving it to lay in its natural waves down her back before quietly heading downstairs to whatever talk she was awaiting.

She was met with Kira and her father sitting at the kitchen table next to each other, and as they beckoned her over to sit, she noticed the thin, blue rectangle laying in the middle of the table. The same blue rectangle she had so carefully hid in her room back in Seattle, or so she thought. She could feel anger begin to bubble in her belly as realization dawned on her, her mother had been through her room.

She sat expectantly, waiting for her dad to chastise her for using drugs, or even alcohol, as a minor and how that could affect her future, but he looked to Kira to begin. The gentle smile that was near permanent on her stepmom was almost comforting in the moment, almost. “Tally”, She starts, “We are aware of your.. pastimes, in Seattle, however, we will not be encouraging that same behaviour here.” she sounds like a damn counselor, Tallulah thought to herself. She’d honestly prefer being yelled at. “We have a few ground rules that we expect you to follow, as we do Lenna and Josette.” Kira continued, “Under no circumstances, will we allow drugs under our roof, including nicotine,” she says referring to the vape sitting in between them, “Or alcohol that does not belong to your father and I. If you are to partake in these activities and are caught you will have consequences.” She looks at Joseph, as if they had rehearsed their own parts, looking towards her dad expectantly, “Secondly,” He speaks up, “As we expect with the twins, any boy, or girl, that you are,, having relations with, we expect to meet, no sneaking them through bedroom windows.” Tallulah cringes internally, it was one time, she wanted to yell. “Curfew will be 11:00 pm on school nights and midnight on Fridays and Saturdays, no exceptions.. Understood?” he asked, looking at his eldest daughter. She wants to argue with them, tell them that policing her life won’t make her change, not the way that they wanted her to at least. That was something her mother learned the hard way. She had taken the door off her bedroom when she had found out she was sneaking out in the night, which only caused Tallulah to start sneaking out the front door instead, right in front of her.

“You done?” she asks, yawning, this wasn’t new to her at all, and she really didn’t care to be frank. The two adults look at each other, Kira nodding her head in Tallulah's direction, Joseph sighed before tossing a key chain on the table next to her vape. A small house key was connected to what looked like a car key. “Choose one.”

Temptation or Freedom?

Tallulah spent the rest of the day running errands with Josie, who had offered to show her around the reservation. They had stopped at Monets, the local cafe, run by the Littleseas, its the go to hangout spot, according to Josie. Who happens to be friends with Colin Littlesea, the eldest son of the owners.

Tallulah picked at the half eaten muffin sitting in front of her as she waited for Josie to return with a refill of both of their coffees. They were so different from each other, Tallulah drinking hers black, while Josies consisted of mainly cream and sugar, just like their personalities, but for some odd reason they clicked.

The car her father and Kira gave her was originally supposed to go to Josie, so that the twins no longer would have to share their current one. Finding out that alone made her reconsider her choice, at least a nicotine addiction only really affected her, but with a lot of reassurance from Josie, and the simple ask that Tallulah help run her errands eased her guilt. She didn't want to upend the twins' life, it wasn’t their fault her parents decided to force her to move to La Push. While Josie seemed to enjoy her presence, Lenna did not, and it's clear now she was avoiding her.

Tallulah gazed around the quaint yet homey cafe, its hand painted walls consisted of the same trees that surrounded the reservation, it was peaceful. She looked towards the door as it chimed, alerting the staff of new customers entering, a group of extremely tall, good looking men walked through the door, causing the calm energy to shift with their booming laughs, everyone seemed to be used to this behaviour, considering she was the only one to look in their direction.

Her eyes followed the group of boys, taking each one in, by the time she reached the last, he was already looking at her. Paul Lahote. The largest of them all, in height and muscle, she thought to herself as her eyes raked his body.

Josie setting her coffee down in front of her broke her concentration on the boy, her attention fully shifted to her half-sister. “What do they feed the men here? They are all so tall” Tallulah asked jokingly, to which Josie laughed, shaking her head. “Not all of them. Just the ones who hang around Sam Uley. Some people say he's giving them steroids but dad swears against it. So does mom.” She watched Josie grimace, and cut her off before she could correct herself, “--I’ve seen boys roided, they look nothing like them.” she spoke before taking a sip of her coffee. Josie nodded, an almost fascinated look on her young face, “So it's true then..” At this, Tallulah raises her eyebrows, “ what's true?”

“Your mom sent you here because you got mixed up with some guys who did drugs or whatever. At least that's what Lenna said she heard dad say”

Of course she did, so much for a fresh start, she thought.

Tallulah rolled her eyes, “Sort of, I guess --”

Now she was being interrupted, a large looming figure was now standing at the edge of their table, greeting Josie, she watched as the younger girl blushed in response, before saying “Hey, Ethan. Uh, this is my older sister, Tally or um, Tallulah,” Josie fumbled over her words as she introduced her. Tallulah looked up at the towering boy with a half smile, nodding her head as a way to say ‘hey’ , Ethan nodded back before asking, “I didn’t realize you guys were sisters. Do you go to school off the rez?”

Tallulah shook her head, “I did but I just moved here from Seattle. I start at the rez school tomorrow.”

He nods before engaging with Josie in conversation about some project they were working on and she can’t help but look over at the boisterous table in the far corner, she can see Paul and another boy glance at her as they talk, she excuses herself from Josie and Ethan, the coffee in her mug no longer appetizing and itching for her little blue rectangle in that moment.

Tallulah makes her way up to the bar-like counter, the waitress coming to take her order almost immediately. She orders a sweet tea, hoping to wash some of the lingering bitterness from her mouth, hoping it would help curve her cravings. She can feel someone come up next to her but doesn't bother to look who it is as she fiddles with a napkin, the waitress comes to take their order and their voice sounds like velvet in her ears despite the hint of gruffness to it.

“You're Joseph Forester's daughter, right?” She hears him ask, she looks in his direction to see he's already looking at her, a small cocky, smirk toying on his lips. He already knows the answer clearly. She wants to roll her eyes and tell him to fuck off, but she can’t bring herself to do so. So, she nods and softly says, “Yeah, Tallulah.” This causes him to actually smile, like he's thankful she didn’t just blow him off. That hot, cocky persona is nearly untraceable now,

“I’m Paul Lahote.”

[giorno-plays-piano]

Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

Pairing: Dabi x villain!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, non-con, stalking, mentions of human experimentation, non-consensual drug use, lots of swearing.

Words: 1841.

Summary: Running away from the lab where you had been experimented on for years, you have no choice but to join the League of Villains to escape from the government. Of course, you don’t expect things to go smoothly, especially when one mutilated son of a bitch just can’t leave you alone.

P.S. I’ve suddenly remembered Rogue who had been my favorite character once; the heroine’s Quirk is partly based on her ability.

My dear @navegandoaciegas​, this is my first attempt at writing Dabi. Hope you’re going to enjoy reading it ❤

_________________

"Fuck, how much can you drink at once, birdie? Ain't you scared to pass out in a place full of men?"

Oh God, it was that smug bastard again. For the past couple of days Dabi couldn't get off your back for a full damn minute.

"Men? Here?" You opened your eyes and raised an eyebrow at the man whose face was right above yours as he leaned on the back of the couch where you laid. "I see just a couple of kids and one burnt corpse who can never fucking shut up."

"Oh? Wanna see how well can a burnt corpse fuck you up?"

Always up to a challenge. You rolled your eyes at his obvious display of hostility despite the fact he'd most definitely lose against you. Besides, Shigaraki would barely enjoy you two ruining the League's hideout, and upsetting that asshole ready to go berserk any moment certainly wasn't one of your priorities.

"Just go fuck yourself, would you? I'm not in the mood to bark at you."

"Well, then don't. I didn’t come here for that, actually."

This was something new. He suddenly became calm as you studied his grotesque mutilated face inches away from yours. Your expression didn’t betray any emotions either since you weren't shocked or disgusted by the way Dabi looked: you've seen worse in the laboratory, and repulsive things had long stopped looking repulsive to you.

"What are you here for, then?" You asked him, trying to remember if you finished that second bottle of sake or not. Since the time you accidentally got one of those useless Quirks, you couldn't get drunk anymore - now strong alcohol only made you sleepy.

"I've always wanted to ask why the fuck are you wearing these." Dabi pointed out to the black leather gloves laying on the coffee table in front of you, and you rolled your eyes again. One more useless question.

"In this team of no-brainers you're the last person I expected to ask me this question." Groaning, you moved up a little to take more comfortable position and stared at the man above you intensely.

"Don't you want to gather as many Quirks as possible? If so, why wearing gloves when you can only get a Quirk through touch?"

You were close to snapping at him, and it certainly made Dabi look even more smug.

"Who the fuck do you think I am, a garbage bin?" You barked wishing you could teleport the bastard somewhere to Hawaii. "I only take Quirks I need, and it isn't easy to find those in that damp of useless abilities regular citizens have. Besides, some Quirks are quite dangerous for their owners and I'd prefer them not existing at all. You, of all people, should already get that, Pretty Face."

He smiled at you, but you saw his hollow eyes sparkling dangerously at your last remark, and you felt his body emanating heat he could turn into his famous blue flames within a second. Nasty shit, that what's you thought of his Quirk. Who on Earth would want anything like that? You doubted anyone but a true psychopath could really appreciate something as fucked up as Dabi's ability to burn anything and anyone, himself including. You definitely didn't want to use his Quirk despite already taking it as almost all of those belonging to the League of Villains. It wasn't intentional, though.

"You'd better start watching your mouth, birdie. You ain't back in the lab." His smile grew wider as he saw your expression darkening at the mention of the lab.

Fucking son of a bitch. You bet he'd go insane during the first month being locked up there.

"Huh, calm down, dear. I think it's better we get along."

You sent him a glare wishing you could throw his overconfident ass out of the window. Dabi loved messing with fucking everyone, Shigaraki included, but he was still a valuable member of the team. Killing him would do you no good.

Showing him your middle finger, you put your head on the pillow and took the half-empty bottle of sake. Thank goodness you didn't finish it. You hoped Dabi would vanish by the time you were done.

You spent a few minutes in complete silence as the man kept leaning on the couch and watching you drinking while you did your best trying to relax. Why the Hell was Dabi stuck here with you? Didn't he have any other things he should be doing now? Was he here to get under your skin even more? Shit, you just wanted to be left alone. You wanted it since the time they brought you to the lab, but since then somebody had always been getting on your nerves one way or the other.

"Seriously, what do you want from me?" You grunted as you opened your eyes again and stared at Dabi's face. "You wanna take the couch or what? I ran out of sake if you're here for it."

There was that smug smile again. Saints, the guy had been creeping you out with his long intense stares for quite some time, but today he was even less bearable than usual. He definitely wanted something from you, and the feeling was making you uneasy.

"You wanna hook up, birdie?"

You thought you were gonna choke on air when you heard him saying that. What? Seriously? Did he hurt his head so bad last time heroes attacked? So, that was the meaning of those stares, then? He thought you were the one he could stick his dick in. Wincing from the thought like from a toothache, you squeezed your eyes shut. The guy was clearly mad.

"Are you out of your mind? Why would I want to hook up with anyone?" You huffed with irritation and realized Dabi was having way more fun than you.

"Don't tell me you're actually a virgin."

"You think I can be a virgin with the life I'm having?" You sounded more bitter than you thought you would, and the man above you chuckled. He was getting on your nerves more and more with each passing second.

"Then why not? Sex is a good way to relax. You certainly seem like you could let off some steam." You flinched when Dabi extended his hand to you, but he had only brushed of a lock of your hair out of your face. "I bet I can help you with that better than most of the team."

"Sex is painful, and I don't like pain. Go have fun with Toga, she seems more into that than me." You narrowed your eyes at him, your hand almost touching his neck if the villain decided he'd go further without your consent. His stupid grin going wider was making you more and more mad.

Of course, he wouldn't go to Himiko. That asshole had his own type, and she certainly didn't fall into that category. Why did you? You had no idea, but you doubted he would ever lay his hands on you. Yeah, you knew what sex was, and it had nothing to do with pleasure like in those stupid romantic novels you once bought. It was humiliating and painful. If you had a chance to get back to those who did it to you back in the lab, you'd rip their hearts out of their rib cages.

The expression on your face didn't seem to faze Dabi even the slightest bit, and you rolled your eyes in irritation. Apparently, he wouldn't give up unless you showed him you weren't some doll he could play with, and Shigaraki was probably going to get real mad at the both of you this evening.

All of a sudden you felt some strange tickling in your muscles you had never felt before. What was that? Confused, you quickly glanced over the room to see no one except Dabi still on his spot. What was that? Was it some hero's work? Had they found your hideout? No, it couldn’t be. You'd hear them, feel them before somebody even set their foot on your territory. It wasn't a hero.

Unwilling to wait for any surprises to happen, you used a regeneration Quirk, the one you were gifted on your 14th birthday so you could heal yourself after they ran the tests without troubling a healer too much. Strangely, the Quirk did nothing about the tickling, and you felt your legs getting weaker. What the fuck was that?

As you raised your head to ask Dabi for help, you suddenly realized he was eager to see what you were doing. He looked like he enjoyed watching you in such state, confused and even frightened, your knees slightly trembling as if you became weak within a couple of seconds.

It was him. He did something to you. The bastard had the nerve to do something to your body so it'd be easier to handle you.

"What have you done?" You hissed at him while he chuckled, pointing at the bottles of sake on the table. "Have you poisoned my drink?"

But the regeneration would work in that case. You knew for sure.

Running his finger around the shell of your ear, Dabi hummed with content, "Poisoned? Come on, who do you think I am, an Evil Queen? That's just a little handy potion that has a tendency to slowly accumulate in your body. Makes you a little softer, don't you think?"

Oh. Oh. That's why he was always watching you. He had no idea when the effects would start to show. Did he fucking realize it could happen in the heat of the battle when you needed your Quirks the most? Did Dabi have any idea what would happen if heroes managed to lock you away again?

"Seems like you planned to abandon me if heroes attacked, didn't you?" You gritted your teeth when Dabi got on top of you, his hands on your chest as he caressed your body like a lover would, his hot fingers getting under your clothes.

"Of course not. I'd play your personal hero and save your stubborn ass the trouble of murdering everyone."

While you desperately wanted to kick him off you came to realization you weren't able to even stand up, your arms and legs so weak you could barely move while Dabi had no problems stripping you out of your clothes, his hands on the your thighs as he took off your pants.

Shit, shit, shit. You couldn’t use any Quirks to hurt him, all of them barely responding to your call. What was that potion? Why nobody in the lab prepared you for this? How on Earth did that shithead obtain such a dangerous thing?

"If you hurt me, I'll rip your brain out of your skull and bring it to Shigaraki as a present."

His chapped, disfigured lips brushed against your neck almost gently when the man murmured, "It doesn't have to be painful, birdie. I'll show you how much fun we can have together."

___________________

Tags: @coolio-love @awesomerextyphoon​

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Sparkle

Genre: Fan Fiction (Sand Castle)

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: It’s so fluffy!

Rating: G

Length: Drabble

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: thank you @rmtndew​ for the edit of Sy in glasses :D More Sy and Wispy? Why yes! 

Henry Cavill Master List

“Uncle Sy,” Annie giggled at her uncle, as he pulled a face. “Sit still.” Her voice going firmer.

Beside her, Willow had her hand on her hips shaking her head at their uncle. “Uncle Sy, we need you to stay very still.”

“Fine, fine.” He gave in sitting statue straight, still as could be.

“Close your eyes, please.” Annie instructed.

Doing as he was asked, Sy closed his eyes and leaning against the couch to support his back. Cross legged on the floor, a mound of pillows under him, he fought the smirk that kept threatening to creep onto his face. The two little girls painting the floral scented mud, clay, paint? Whatever the cool, thick stuff was onto his face. Around his beard, across his cheeks and forehead. Sy felt the soft brush that Aimee had handed them against his skin.

“You know Sy,” Aimee's voice greeted him, yet his eyes remained closed, “this stuff is actually pretty good. It might even help brighten that complexion of yours. Tired and sunburned was so last year.”

Snorting, Sy shook his head, both nieces scolding him for moving while they tried to apply the mask. Directing him to pucker his lips, Willow stood in front of him, a glob of lip moisturizer on her brush, she slapped it on spreading it thickly against his red chapped lips. The girls were taking good care of their Uncle Sy.

At least they wanted to do it at home this time. Sy was unsure of the product quality, but the service was far better and cheaper than when he'd taken them to an actual spa. Now that had been a sight, the look on the woman's face when the giant, bearded man in boots strode into the salon with the two little girls in tow. Despite the initial shock, Sy had to hand it to them, those ladies were magical.

He'd left feeling like his hands, feet, and face had been kissed by angels and butterflies. Hell, he'd even let Willow and Annie pick out a polish for his toes. Sitting in the chair chatting with the woman painting his toes, while his nieces had watched from their own pedicure chairs, Sy learned that men coming in to dote on their daughters and nieces wasn't really all that uncommon. He, however, was one of the first to ask for Pompeii Purple toes. The shade had really brought out his eyes.

In his sister's living room, Sy chuckled when Willow announced that he absolutely needed to trim that scraggly beard of his. In their life time, neither of his nieces had ever bore witness to their uncle without his beard. He liked it too much to part with it. Besides, the women loved it. Clearing his throat, Sy opened his eyes, a mocking frown on his face.

“Don't you dare touch my beard, understood bub?” He smirked. Willow nodded and Annie, standing just out of sight giggled. “There will be no cutting of my beard, until I say so.”

“Oh come on, Sy.” Aimee teased from the kitchen. “You could use a trim,” she winked at Annie.

“I would prefer to do it myself, thank you sister dearest.” He winked at Willow, a near impossible task with the clay beginning to set on his face.

“What if we just make it pretty?” Annie piped up, shuffling into the room with a hairbrush and bows in her hands. “Can we?”

“Please, Uncle Sy.” Willow pulled out the puppy dog eyes. Bouncing on her tip toes with excitement.

Playfully grumbling, Sy waited a minute or two. Letting the little girls get antsy before agreeing. Under some conditions. Nothing but a comb and some pink sparkly bows went into his beard. If they so much as tugged the wrong way, Sy was combing it himself. His beard was his pride and joy, right after his Wispy. He'd worked hard over the years to grow this bad boy.

“Gently,” He reminded them, lifting his chin for Willow to gingerly take the comb through his thick beard.

Climbing onto the couch behind him, Annie sat with her legs crossed gently rubbing a hair brush through his growing curls. A full out pamper day wasn't entirely bad. Enjoying his “spa treatment”, Sy winced when he heard Aimee giggling like a child on too much sugar. He knew his sister well enough to know that this was not going to be good.

“Aim, what in the hel-ck are you doing?” Sy asked glancing at his sister. Her phone poised as she giggled and shrugged.

“I thought ma might like to see. Maybe fire one off to the boys. You still in touch with the Major? Show him what retirement does for ya?”

“You wouldn't dare,”

“Send one to the Major? No. But I would send it to ma and everyone else we know. Come on Sy, you're adorable. You should let me share this on that mommy blog, it would be a hit.” She laughed. “Former Army Captain attacked by Girl Scouts.”

Sy replied with a grunt. More than one single mother, and a few not so single, on that damn blog Aimee was part of had themselves hot and bothered for the youngest Syverson. Every time Aimee mentioned her brother, at least one woman would ask if he was seeing somebody or how he liked children, who weren't his. Sy liked children fine, but he had no interest in taking on any to parent.

“Leave Uncle Sy alone,” Willow pouted, as she put the last bow into his beard. “Don't be mean, mommy.”

“I wasn't being mean, baby girl. Uncle Sy and I were teasing. Now, why don't you finish up those bows and help him wash his face. You can't leave the mask on too long, remember.”

“Oops,”

“It's okay bub,” Sy pulled away from the hair styling by Annie. “You ladies clean up a bit out here and I will go clean my face off.”

Striding down the hall, Sy could feel the clay on his face hardening and drying. If nothing else his pores would be flawless for a few days. Chuckling as he went, he could hear Annie and Willow in the living room. No doubt discussing their next plan for their uncle's beauty treatment. If he had to, there was a lovely yellow nail polish that he'd been eyeing in the box of tricks. It may not be the right season for yellow, but it would surely make the hair on his big toes really pop.

In the bathroom, he grabbed a wash cloth and turned the taps. Allowing the water to reach a nice, warm temperature he began scrubbing the dried clay away from his face. The bows in his hair and beard were a sight to behold. Admiring the handy work, Sy stood for a few seconds looking at the man in the mirror. The one grizzled, gruff, hard as nails and fearless Captain was reduced to a soft and gentle giant.

He loved spending the time with the kids, allowing them to have their fun, before Uncle Sy packed up and drove back across town. It was no wonder people were forever asking him when he'd have his own. Ah well, it was better this way. Sy enjoyed the company of the kids, but all the time and he would be even more grizzled and cranky than he was when he was stationed over in the desert.

Being home had it's perks, like getting to be with his family whenever he wanted. Having sleepovers with the kids, whenever Willow decided that he was lonely in his house. Or how she was forever trying to set him up with any woman they came across, while he had her out. That one was less and less cute, especially as she had somehow been targeting only married women lately.

The last thing Sy wanted was to get his ass kicked by some woman's husband or wife, for hitting on their wife because some kid said she was pretty. Shaking his head, he finished checking himself in the mirror to make sure he had all of the clay off.

Cleaned up and refreshed Sy joined the girls in the living room.

“Ladies, what's next?”

“Lunch!” “Make up!”

Laughing at their very different ideas, he nodded to Annie. “I agree lunch is the much better idea, make up can be after.”

“But mommy said we could go out for lunch. You can't go out unless you have a proper face on.” Willow pouted. Annie sighed. Her cousin had a point.

“Girls,” Aimee spoke, she was about to do everything in her mom power, to get Sy out of this one. As amused as it would be, seeing her brother go to lunch in a full face of make up.

“No, no she's right.” Sy nodded in agreement. “Aim, why not let Annie do your make up and Wispy can do mine. Then we'll all be ready for lunch, hel-ck, I'll even pay. Treat all of my girls.”

“Yeah!” The cheers went up from the girls.

Aimee, rolling her eyes and making a mental note to kill her brother later on. She would never forgive him, nor forget. Some day, she would get him back.  This is when she should suggest wearing their best dresses – Sy included. Instead, she'd pay him back when he least expected. Maybe the next time, she'd insist they go for lunch wearing some over the top princess costumes.

Sy chuckled, what did they have to lose? At 11 years old, Annie was more than capable at putting together some make up. Willow was eccentric with her colour palate, but Sy wasn't worried much about that.

“Mommy, please. Please, we can all do our make up and go for lunch.”

“I hate you,” Aimee whispered passing her laughing brother, sitting down on the floor. “Okay, girls, let's get to it. Then we can make Uncle Sy take us for the best lunch, we've ever had.”

“Drive thru at Burger King isn't that fancy,” laughing, Sy nudged his sister with his elbow.

“Oh, but Sy if we have our best faces on, we need something better than cheap burgers in a bag. I was hoping maybe we could go to Janet's.”

It was Sy's turn to roll his eyes and stifle a groan. Of course Aimee would insist they go inside to eat. Saturday was the busiest day of the week for the small diner. Whatever, Sy was man enough to take it. With more confidence than anyone had ever seen, he would walk into that diner, head high, and his beard bows sparkling. The things he did to keep these children happy.

If it meant buying a hundred ponies, wearing full make up, and walking across a floor of legos – Sy would do it all to see these kids smile.

“I love Janet's!” Willow squealed dancing on her tiptoes, nearly poking her uncle in the eye with the eye shadow brush she was using. The hot pink creme shadow she had chosen for him was really going to pop with his dark beard. “Uncle Sy, please. Please can we go? You said that you would take me there the next time we went for lunch, you said that I could have a big sundae and...”

“Sy?” A sideways glance at her baby brother, Aimee puckered her lips for Annie to apply some lipstick. Offering the kids ice cream as a meal wasn't a crime, but it would explain why they sometimes came home bouncing around like mad hornets in an old coke can.

“Wispy, you're not supposed to tell your ma that I let you at ice cream as a meal.”

“Sorry, but can I?”

“Maybe for dessert, you can Annie can shade a giant sundae.” Aimee reasoned.

“Fine, but the next time we go....” Staring at her uncle, Willow pouted.

“Whatever you want, bubs.” Smirking at his sister, Sy conveniently pointed to the blush in the bag, asking Willow if she thought the orangeish colour would work for him.  “Whatever you want.”

[babylooneytoonz]

(A/N- Not my gif. Found this lovely one on Google and have no idea who it belongs to. Let me know if it's yours and I'll credit you.💕)

Warning(s) - ANGST, WAR & mentions of violence, character death.

Quick links- For those who haven't read the Prologue & Part 1, you will find all of them here.

Trip Mines & Broken Hearts [Tommy Shelby x Reader]

Part 2

It wasn't until weeks after that day you saw that blue eyed boy again.

It would have been a lie to say he didn't cross your mind once since then—

When you weren't treating casualties or you were curled in your bunker, your reading glasses plastered to your eyes and an old , tattered book that belonged to your elder brother rested against your thigh, you found yourself thinking of him, wondering if he was doing okay, if he was alive —

A part of you felt guilty— you should have thought of your brothers, prayed for their safety, prayed for the war to get over so you could all go back home, but you couldn't stop yourself from wondering if Thomas Shelby had made it so far, since the last time you saw him.

A few miles away, in a basement of an almost crumbling building, the soldiers of the 8th Service Battalion were trapped. The only exit was blocked by piles of rocks that had come crashing down when a trip mine had exploded, taking the life of a fellow comrade. Tommy stood by the stone wall, leaning against it, holding his body for support, a lit fag in his fingers, his lips belting out smoke as he exhaled. Right in front of his eyes, three of his comrades, which included his brother John, were digging with their bare hands, trying to burrow a hole into the ground so they could get into the other side and get out of this godforsaken place.

Tommy's fingernails were soaked with blood and dust, his nails almost broken for he had been the one trying to dig with his bare hands an hour back and had only taken a break to take a little rest. His observant eyes scanned through the men that were tumbling in and out of his vision, yelling amongst themselves, talking or trying to come up with a plan but his eyes were fixed on one person— Jasper.

He looked just like you, his raven black hair was just the same shade as yours, only shorter. If you decided to one day chop off your locks, you'd pass as his twin. Tommy dumped the cigarette butt to the ground and at the same time, his hand flew to his neck, clasping his fingers against the locket that you had given him. It felt warm against his palm and he knew he should have given it back to the black haired boy in front of his eyes.

Maybe this was meant to be his lucky charm, a token of love from his sister, something that was meant to protect his life. Although he wanted to go and talk to the black haired boy, a part of him did not want to part with the memory he had of you— a part of you that was now clinging to his neck.

Maybe it was his selfishness, or it was just his thoughts of you, the fact that you occupied a corner of his mind more than anyone these days, he bit on his lip hard and kept his mouth shut. He will talk to Jasper, but later — once they were out of this place.

And they did.

Only how—

It was almost twelve hours; the men were hungry, starving beyond their wits and the basement smelt of piss, sweat and blood. Finally, a yell rang through the lads' ears. A hole had finally been dug. They were free— they could go to the other side now. One by one, the men started crawling through the hole and their heads emerged on the other side of the basement, where bright moonlight shone though the glass windows, providing them with respite. There the door was, right in front of their eyes; all they had to do was get out and breathe the fresh air. Anything was better than the stale, bloody air in this place.

Tommy was speaking to his brother when from the corner of his eye, he saw three boys, one of them (Y/N)'s brother. They walked up to the front door, placing their hand on the doorknob, they pulled it open when suddenly, there was a click.

"DUCK!" Tommy screamed at the top of his lungs, as loud as he could, jumping to the ground, shielding himself underneath a table when a loud explosion happened and the screams of the three men in front of him drowned into his ears. His palm flew to the locket that dangled from his neck and a sudden guilt hit him.

"Jasper, no! Fuck, fuck. No." Tommy slid out of his hiding spot, cowering slightly just in case there was any more explosion to happen, making his way through the furniture that was lit on fire around him. There, in front of his eyes, lay the young man, covered in blood and soot, coughing.

Tommy fell on his knees, sliding his hand underneath Jasper's head to lift it up as he could see that he was still breathing, although very faintly.

"Jasper, hold on. We're going to get you to a bloody hospital, you know?"

Breath by breath, Tommy could see life sliding out of the young boy's body and it hurt him.

"Listen, mate, I met your sister, she's at the camp, she's a nurse, a fuckin' good nurse and she will —"

"She has no - no one except m-me and Johnny—" Jasper's breathless voice cut him off, whispering, his voice cracking, his chest heaving up and down.

"Come on, don't you fucking die on me here. I promised her I'll take you to the camp the next time I need fuckin' stitches."

Tommy placed his hands on the young boy's chest, pumping his heart, trying to get him to open his eyes.

"Tommy—" John's voice called out to him but he ignored him.

"Tommy" This time John's voice was loud, causing Tommy to sharply turn his neck towards him. Underneath the layers of blood and soot covering his face, he could see the sadness in John's eyes. "He's gone, Tommy. He's dead." John whispered, his voice barely a whisper.

The darkness surrounded you, but it wasn't peaceful; you could hear the sounds of occasional grenades and trip Mines somewhere at a distance and you could sometimes hear a cry of pain. You had to force yourself to clench your eyes shut and press the pillow tight against your ears to block out any sound. You wondered if life could get any worse than what it already was—

Letting out a frustrated groan, you sat up in bed, rubbing your tired, sleep deprived eyes as you snaked out of bed, your feet touching the floor. Without making any noise, you sneaked out of the bunker, not wanting to wake up anyone inside as you walked out. You looked up at the sky, the moon was shining bright — it was a beautiful full moon; a lovely starry night, but it was ironical how no one could see beauty in it. All we could see was blood, death and cries of pain.

Your arms wrapped around your body instinctively as a chilly breeze hit you, causing a shiver run down your spine. It was then when you heard the sound of the crunching of leaves somewhere across you, causing you to sharply look forward, until the familiar silhouette of the blue eyed boy came in your view.

"Tommy!" You exclaimed, your voice expressing a sudden joy you didn't know you could even feel.

You didn't know why; what connection you had with him but it felt like someone you'd known for ages had finally come back back to you. You ran in his direction, wanting to embrace him.

"You're back! You—" Words stopped from your mouth when you saw him up close. He wasn't happy. His face looked worse than how you'd seen him the last time— yes, physically too but more so, emotionally. You could see a scar in his eyes; you knew something had happened. His eyes were sunken, hollow, his face devoid of any emotion.

"Tommy—" You whispered his name, your words dripping with pain; it was strange to say that you felt it, genuinely, whatever it was that was bothering him. There was a connection and you could feel a pain building inside you as well, looking at him— so distraught.

"Say it," you pleaded with him.You knew he knew that you were in no mood to play games; that you knew that something had happened and you weren't the type of a girl to beat around the bush.

Your eyes moved along with Tommy's hand as he slid it into his pant pocket and pulled something out. Within the next second, you felt his fingers brush against your hand, his hand finally taking a hold of your hand and turning it so your palm was wide open. He then placed something cold against it and you looked down, the silver glistening against your now tear clouded eyes.

Your locket—

You bit your lip.

He was dead, of course he was.

You didn't cry or break down. You looked up at the sky and your lips curled into a weak smile. He was finally free; free of the torture, of watching countless people die and he had died a martyr. You were proud, needless to say. But your heart felt heavy. It didn't matter if he'd died a martyr's death, what mattered was that he was gone— your baby brother was gone and he was never coming back.The next minute you knew, you were on your knees, your face buried against Tommy's chest, his arm holding you gently as he let you whimper against his chest, his hand stroking the back of your head.

"I'm sorry, I'm fucking sorry. It should've been me maybe. I didn't give him the locket, I thought—"

You kept listening, all the while you had your face buried in his chest, a stabbing pain rising in your chest.

"I wanted to keep it for myself. I should've given it to him."

It didn't matter anymore. He was dead.

You don't remember how long you cried for—

It was probably minutes—

But once you were done, you wiped any traces of tears left in your eyes and put on a brave face. You were still sitting on the ground but Tommy was now standing, wondering, if there was anything he could say to you; to comfort you.

You didn't need it—

No amount of words can comfort you, and he knew it.

So he slid his hands into his pocket and turned away, slowly walking away from you.

"Tommy, wait." You weakly called out, and he froze, not turning towards you. You stood up and with slow, dragged steps, you walked up to him and placed your hand on his shoulder, nudging him to turn towards you and face you. He had to fucking face you, you deserved that much. "Look at me, for fucks sake." You hissed, your voice harsh, his body immediately stiffening in response to it. But he did what you asked him to do. Slowly, he turned around and your eyes met his icy blue ones.

He had expected you to slap him, scream at him and curse him but he had least expected you to do what you did then. You swallowed the bile forming in your throat and brought up the locket to his neck, clasping it around, letting it hang from it.

"Although it didn't protect him, I always hope it protects you."

You took a step away from him but this time, he caught your wrist, pulling you back towards him.

"Y-you don't hate me?" His voice was filled with anguish.

"It wasn't your fault. Maybe this was how it was meant to be. If there's anyone to blame, it's me. Instead of praying for them to be safe, I hoped and wondered if you were okay—" You softly whispered, looking down at the floor.

Tommy left the wrist he was holding reluctantly and this time, you gave him a weak smile and turned away. Watching you leave tore through his heart but your words providing his aching heart with a medicine, your words which he'd heard, the fact that you had thought of him, the fact that you'd wanted him to be safe. The fact that you cared for him. You wanted to be alone; to grieve. So he let you be. But he kept standing there, watching you with awe in his eyes. He wondered what he'd done good in life, to meet a woman as pure as you were. And now, a sudden selfish desire filled him up completely.

He wanted you. He needed you now. And he had to have you.

A/N: thank you for all the love I've received so far. And thank you to the creators of the lovely GIFs. 💕

[hearthhhh]

✧Hello! I'd love a matchup! INFJ,Panromantic Asexual,Female, Virgo. I'm incredibly awkward, because of that I tend to mess myself up a lot. I have a stutter which I myself find annoying. I tend to be shy when meeting people but when I open up I'm frankly a whole other person. I don't have much of a filter with my friends. I enjoy Artsy things, and I tend to be highly critical of mostly everything involving art and generally anything I'm interested it. I'm quite picky, not to mention obsessive.

I pair you with...

🥢 Spoilers for V3 ahead! If this is a problem feel free to leave another ask!

🥢 This ask was a bit more difficult because of the whole V3 plot and the ending and all that. I thought about it and just decided I'd write this ask as if you were a member of the trials as well.

🥢 Kaito is really uplifting and loves getting along with introverts, and originally gets closer to you due to your shy nature! He likes trying to bring up your mood, and is really supportive of your insecurities. Kaito would even try to pay attention to things you're insecure about so he could come off as encouraging as possible.

🥢 Once you start opening up to him, he’s pleasantly surprised, and really excited that you’re feeling more comfortable around him.

🥢 Both you and Kaito rarely have filters around each other. You speak your minds, and enjoy the honesty you two share. It helps that Kaito basically runs on his moral compass, which is pretty sound and easy to understand and agree with.

🥢 You and Maki would get along well! Instead of her becoming Kaito's love interest, you and Kaito would become one of her very good friends! You're less violent and also an introvert, so there're aspects of you two that are pretty similar and could lead to a pretty solid platonic relationship.

🥢 You two stick together pretty close. Kaito is very attuned to making plans, and tries to understand people and their emotional capabilities as well, trying to take off as much emotional loads as possible. So he'd come up with several ways to hang out with each other, seeming as innocent, but really just a way to keep an eye out for you. He's really scared something will happen to you, but he doesn't want to come off as possessive or stress-inducing.

🥢 He really likes your obsessive nature, because Kaito is the same way! When Kaito likes something he's got it set in stone, even if it's just a small whim, he pursues all his goals and wishes really passionately. So Kaito likes seeing people who are just as passionate as him, and is really supportive of your art and will listen to you rant for hours if you'd like, maybe even debate if you need to.

🥢Kaito wouldn't ask you out. He knows he's dying, he can't put you through the emotional turmoil, it'll crush you. As much as Kaito wants to distance himself, he can't, and he thinks it's selfish of him.

🥢 You have to ask him out. It's scary, but so are the killing games. You never know if one of you will die and you need him to know about your feelings.

🥢 When you tell him I'd imagine your stutter taking over. Your shyness takes over but Kaito understands exactly what you're trying to say. He's torn but on cloud nine at the exact same time.

🥢 The days before Kaito's death you spend cuddling and spending time alone, distancing yourself from the others as much as possible. But he disappears into the bathroom for extended periods of time, sometimes Kaito would even leave you alone in one of your rooms claiming to be getting food but coming back empty-handed and forgetting entirely why he'd left in the first place.

🥢 There's a high level of trust in your relationship, there has to be when you're dating in the middle of a killing trials. So you wouldn't expect him to be a killer, only worrying about his safety.

🥢 Then there’s the whole trial business, and the only person you have left is Maki.

I pair you with...

🥢 The Victorian Era was very well known for its artistry, so you'd be able to get by easily as an artist. Especially because you're so critical, I'd imagine it'd make you pickier about what you'd paint, and you'd be able to grow renown pretty easily. Artists that are introverted also create a sense of mystery, so people would become more intrigued.

🥢 Also, I researched career paths for INFJ. I actually found that there are many people with that personality type who run non-profit organizations.

🥢 I got this idea that you'd have an auction for some of your paintings, then give a portion of your earnings to people in need.

🥢 This auction would make you even more well known. So I'd imagine you're a spectacle in the artistry world.

🥢 Because you're so important, it wouldn't be surprising for you to have some pretty high up contacts. That would include Earl Ciel Phantomhive.

🥢 You'd meet Prince Soma at one of Ciel's parties. It's a small get together between others of higher positions, and it's pretty great.

🥢 Except the music's loud, the people there aren't that entertaining, and you don't really want to take to them. You only came to keep up appearances, and you kind of felt like you had to.

🥢You meet Prince Soma and Agni in one of the hallways trying to make it outside for some fresh air. He's really nice, and you two get along very well. After he shows you the doors, the two men stay with you for a bit to talk.

🥢 Prince Soma enjoys being of use to others, and is excited he's able to help you even if it's something as small as showing you the exit. But he's also easily intimidated. So he'd seek comfort in your timid nature, and would try to see past your introverted shell and try to make you more open.

🥢 Once he gets to know you more he's thrilled! Prince Soma loves people with a sense of humour and seems to like yours a lot.

🥢 You two meet more along the streets and stop to talk whenever you see each other. Until you give Soma your address, and tell him he's able to stop by anytime. He takes the invitation up eagerly, and is over almost daily.

🥢 You're surprised he didn't know you were an artist. When he sees several paintings around your larger than average house he's immediately intrigued. And when you tell him of your fundraisers, that's when Soma starts to grow feelings for you.

🥢 Soma really admires you at this point. He'd always seen himself as the mediator of your friendship, a guide. But now he respects you as someone equal.

🥢 As you two start going out more, Soma asks for Agni to accompany him less and less. Then it gets to the point where Soma and you would always spend time with each other alone, usually in the comfort of your home.

🥢 Eventually, Agni has to tell Soma to tell you about his feelings. They're pretty obvious at this point. Soma actually hadn't even realized he'd liked you until it was pointed out. He just really liked being around you.

🥢 I feel like there would be like… a whole system to get into a relationship. Prince Soma was probably the type to be expecting an arranged marriage, maybe even to meet his bride on their wedding day. So I'm not quite sure what traditions would be in place, if this makes sense.

🥢 But anyway! I feel like Soma would be the type who's really excited to get into relationships, so he'd tell you very soon after his realization, if not immediately. He's like a fucking puppy in the best way possible.

🥢 You know exactly what he's trying to say before he even opens his mouth. He asks you in your kitchen as you're making breakfast.

🥢 Being in a relationship with Prince Soma is great. He'd spoil you silly, and Agni would be like a big brother to you. While Prince Soma loves alone time with you, it's important to him that you and Agni get along well. While he wouldn't say it aloud, Soma is always really happy when he sees you two interacting.

🥢 Soma is one for cuddles! He loves to have an excess of pillows and blankets, and builds the best pillow forts.

🥢 You find a lot of your time would be taken up by Soma. He really likes being around you and gets lonely really quickly. While you paint he likes to talk to you, but sometimes gets restless sitting down for too often. He admires you for having the patience to paint for so long.

🥢 He'd be really goofy! Your senses of humour would minimize uncomfy things like getting sick or being sad, and would create the baseline for trust and vulnerability! Basically you two would just be so comfortable around each other and you wouldn't feel like there are any barriers between you two. You'd feel like extensions of yourselves.

🥢 Okay the fluff here made up for the angsty Kaito matchup woo!

I pair you with...

🥢 So aside from Zen's obvious immediate flirtatious nature, I feel like he'd become interested in things that you're insecure about! Zen's all for being uplifting and encouraging self-betterment, but feels bad when people are downright self-deprecating. He just wants people to be the best versions of themselves they can be, but things you can't change about yourself are fine just the way they are. They make you unique in Zen's eyes.

🥢 Zen loves your art! Send! Lots! Of! Pics! He's the cheerleader everyone needs honestly. Zen also loves when you talk about art, and admires how passionate you are. He'd even compare your passion for art to his passion for acting. In short, Zen really respects your talent and passion.

🥢 When you start to open up to the chat a bit more Zen is super excited and really supportive!

🥢 I feel like after you start opening up to the chat more is when Zen starts to develop real feelings for you. He'd show this by flirting a little more, but other than that there isn't any indication at first. It's just the same old flirty Zen.

🥢 Zen's always saying how he'd like to meet you in person, so eventually you do! You two send lots of pictures to the messenger, going shopping and to dinner or lunch afterwards. You two have a lot of fun, and later go on more outings together.

🥢  You and Zen go on outings as friends, though. Even Yoosung tags along sometimes, and you three are constantly trying to get Jaehee to come out and have some fun. Seven and Jumin usually decline your requests if acknowledging them at all.

🥢 Zen's feelings grow the more time you two spend together. It's almost unbearable to be so close to you, not being able to hold your hand yet be able to say such sweet things without your suspicion.

🥢 Eventually Zen invites you out for lunch over call, very different from the public planning you two would do on the group chats. But you don't think too much of it because it's Zen, and you've always been closest to him.

🥢 He really wants to make you feel special! But he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable with too much attention. So he takes you to a secluded café that gives off a really homey yet romantic vibe. He asks you out over hot chocolate and cookies, and spoils you rotten that entire day.

🥢 Zen's very clingy but certainly not as clingy as Prince Soma. He loves being around you and cherishes your outings, probably having a huge folder full of aesthetic pictures of you. He'd also definitely screenshot every picture of your art you send and keep it in a folder. He mentions it to you casually one day on a date, showing that your art style has improved pretty well from the first piece you sent to the group chat to the most recent.

🥢 Zen is all for really cheesy and mushy romantic stuff. He texts you a lot throughout the day to tell you that he misses you, is thinking about you, loves you, etc. He's just so sweet and really cares about you and needs you to know.

🥢 Zen loves how shy you are. He finds it cute and endearing, and fondly mentions it many times. You also notice he speaks very softly to you, and his tone is so much different. It's almost as if he's trying to pour every once of love that he can into every syllable. 

[ink03]

I might have not recieved that anon but half of this was about me. So let me just write an one, solid response to never have to do this again.

Well, hello anon. I have a question: WHERE WERE YOU when I had pointless fights with people trying to tell them that there are many parts of HTTYD universe that are sexist toward men, including hiccstrid? That telling boys that you can only get a girl when you are brave and fearless and in other situation go cry into your pillow wifu, is not good at all? That women are NOT allowed to hit their loved ones and that Astrid (or rather those sexist writers) should calm down?

And yeah, I dislike Princess Outpost Hiccup simply cause he's everything Hiccup, the real canon Hiccup, would hate to become. Shushing Astrid and not giving a crap about her unless she's in some ridiculous danger? Bossing people around? Including people ON THEIR OWN ISLAND? Not letting others do their job and having to be the real mary sue of the series? Excepting apologies for nothing but never saying them? And now you can point out 'hey in episode xjdhsa that didn't happen'. And yes, you are right, Hiccup is none of those thing when the episode's script doesn't want him to be. Just like Astrid or Ruffnut happen to be useful when the writers think it's convincing or they simply see a major backslash of people complaining. They change a bit of stuff here and there to make everything seem right.

And here's the trick. Me and my friend, that you decided to call out, and also my other friends from salty grandma wine club simply are not satisfied with those little changes, with those tiny upgrades that last for one episode or less. (And when it comes to me and my friend, we actually never were into hiccstrid too but hey if you do, then you do you, it's just boring and rather sexist to us). We are old enough to realize 'hey. That's some bullshit'. And honestly? I really don't think we are toxic with it, since we never go after people or anonly message them like you just did (we also don't follow the series constantly, so the major hype is long gone before we get to it and start complaining, so we don't really destroy the experience to anyone??). Oh and wait, the point of Salty Grandma Wine Club is that we are salty. Together. In a club. On our own accounts, without tagging rtte or httyd or anything so you don't even see our posts. You can even block us (which is actually funny to me) like many others. We are that part of the fandom who is done with the bullshit and suprise, suprise, all fandoms have guys like us. For some reason, only in the httyd one people don't tolerate us to this point.

So if you would kindly leave my friend alone and don't use her as an opportunity to say some complains about me (just message me my dear. Or is not being annonymous too much to handle?) that would be great thanks.

Hey can I ask you something? Why don’t you and ink like hiccup? You both seem to cry hicctrid as sexist on Astrid’s side but never mind that guys don’t always need a love interest at the end no only focus on women. Because men can’t be victims of sexism either am I right.

here’s your hate rate: 

loaded question: i’m going to give 4/5 as i’ve never received one on this blog but i think it’s a really classic way to get ppl upset. 

hasty generalisation: this links into the loaded question, but i appreciate misrepresenting someone’s opinion/thoughts for them because what a way to get someone’s hackles up. and it’s a great way to encourage miscommunication. i’m also going to include lack of reading any previous material/faq in here because not bothering with all information is a part of a hasty generalisation. 5/5

speaking for someone else: it’s true, ink and i are a hive mind. 3/5

equivocation: honestly it’s only tiring, but it also includes a logical fallacy/untruth and that raises it’s score up slightly 2/5

total score: 3.5/5

but all in all, i think this is a great way to make someone annoyed. loaded questions never provide a genuine space to discuss something and puts the person on the defensive, so it’s fantastic at disadvantaging the person you’re speaking to and make them upset. especially if they’ve expressed difficulty with communication before!