#i have to stop drawing now lol my hand is seriously cramping up

[knifegremliin]

quick sketch of a lady based off a calleta silkmoth <3

[gukyi]

Heyyy it’s the one who asked for jk jealous of the cat(lol) and I was thinking about something cute(?) with hobi where the reader loves to draw him (bc he’s just that beautiful) and has a lot of sketches of his face but, since it’s still early in the relationship, he doesn’t know and then one day he finds them and idk I mean how do you think he would react?

I’m sorry maybe two asks are a lot haha but you’re so good I can’t help myself, thank you!❤️

muse | jhs

Sketching has always been your release. A respite from the horrors of daily college life, a break from the hours of studying and problem sets and homework that come your way like products on a conveyor belt. You can’t remember when you first started to doodle, little drawings in the margins of your notebooks and on the old receipts you keep. Now, you never go anywhere without a pen and a pad of paper handy to draw a couple of potted plants, the outline of a strawberry cake you saw in the window of a bakery, a dog you saw while you walked past the park. 

These days, your muse is a little less fluid. A little more human.

 Who can even blame you? The boy you’ve been half-heartedly dating for the past month has a gorgeous face. A crisp jawline, that perfectly smooth slope of a nose bridge, chocolate eyes that gleam caramel in the sun. Give you a couple more weeks and you’d probably be able to draw him from memory. But these days, all of the selfies he sends you via text message are good enough to keep you going. 

Of course, you don’t dare reveal to him that you’re drawing him. Could you even imagine what would happen? If he suddenly finds out you’ve been stalking his photos and committing them to paper? Following the shape of his face with graphite lines? You might as well just be ghosted now. 

Your favorite part of him to draw is his lips. This perfect pout, this happy little grin. You can draw the lines of his mouth with a single stroke, pencil scratching against the paper. Even if it’s a little crooked, a little wobbly, it still looks just right. Every time. 

You come back to your apartment from the campus food court with another page in your notebook filled with musings of him. 

“Knock knock!”

His voice is like birdsong, like sunshine in a bottle. 

“Hey!” You exclaim happily, looking up from where you’re seated on the couch, backpack leaning against the wooden leg. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Hoseok says cheerfully. “Thought I’d drop by. Brought you something, too.”

From behind him appears a scone from the student-run bakery on campus, wrapped in a brown paper napkin, sitting gently in his palm. 

“Oh my God, you remembered!” You jump up excitedly, rushing over. “Wait, let me make some tea and then we can share it. You can make yourself at home on the couch.”

Hoseok nods dutifully, heading towards your couch as you dash into your tiny little kitchen, this cramped little thing squeezed into a room the size of a small walk-in closet. Quickly, you pour some tea, placing two Earl Grey tea bags into matching green mugs. Hoseok seems rather quiet, though you suppose it’s just because he’s waiting for you. But when you emerge, you find him staring down at your notebook, flipping through the pages of his face, of his profile, one by one. 

“Fuck.”

He jerks his head up at the sound of your voice. 

“Y/N…” He begins, looking apologetic. 

“Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed, I’m sorry,” you say, mortified. You scurry over and grab the notebook out of his hands, furiously trying to flip the pages back over, cover up what might have just ruined your relationship. “I never meant for you to see those, holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Y/N,” Hoseok repeats, more forcefully this time, getting you to shut up. “Are those all me?”

“Yes?” No point in denying it. “I’m really sorry, you probably think I’m a total creep, don’t you? Stalking your Instagram page and tracing the pictures you sent me, drawing you in this secret notebook that I never wanted you to find—”

“Hey, hey,” Hoseok says, looking a little… could he be endeared? He reaches out, places his fingers along your wrist, stopping you mid-sentence. “It’s okay. I just wanted to ask you something.”

Here comes the break up. 

“Do you think you could draw one of you, too? So I can frame them and hang them up in my room?”

Your jaw drops open in shock. “Wait, seriously? You’re not mad?”

Hoseok chuckles. “Why would I be mad? You drew all these beautiful pictures and they happen to be of me. I just hope I’m making it really obvious that I feel the same way about you.”

A wave of relief washes over you. “Oh my God, yes, yes you are. Wow, you are amazing.”

Hoseok leans in, wraps his arms around the small of your back, pressing those perfectly crooked lips of his against your own. “As are you, my dear. As are you.”

[worldwidemochiguy]

the man in the moon (Yandere! Yoongi)

Summary: You can’t help but gaze at the stars and he can’t help but gaze back at you. 

Word Count: 1.7K

Masterlist

Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, (kind of) Stockholm syndrome, Dissociation, bad writing. 

Authors note: I got the idea and then made this and tbh it’s kind of shitty which makes me sad bc it could have been a cool concept but ah well lol. 

The man in the moon is my man

He never say nothing so I know he understands

He’ll never break my heart 

I know he’s here to stay

Tell all the other boys to go away

I’ll take the man in the moon 

- Man in the Moon, by Voice of the Beehive 

Yoongi had a fairly repetitive schedule. He would wake up and then… well. That was basically it. He preferred not to go outside, deeming the bouncing gait he had to adopt to travel around as ‘undignified’, even if there was no one else around to see it. He spent his days in his meticulously shuttered compound. Covering the windows was necessary, given that the moon was far slower at rotating than its orbital partner, Yoongi thought with contempt. 

Rather than having a cycle of darkness and light over 24 hours, it took his planet almost a month to complete a ‘day’. Even Yoongi was incapable of sleeping when the sun’s full glare was seeping through the thick window panes, and after enduring a week and a half of the torture, he went around with a hammer, an armful of boards, and a budding vendetta against the sun. 

Eons later, Yoongi’s skin was infinitely paler, his eyes were infinitely piercing, and his life was infinitely dull. Yoongi sometimes dabbled in casting his gaze onto the Earth, the ugly planet he was stuck forever facing towards. Normally, what he found was severely lacking. Stupidity, and greed, and petty squabbles seemed to be all the human race knew how to do. But, for lack of a better option, he kept on looking. And then he found you.

From the moment he saw you, he knew you were different. He almost thought you were a fallen star, stuck in a place you didn’t belong just like he was. You were clearly brighter than any other filthy human marring the Earth, and you only became increasingly so as you aged.

Yoongi’s eyes followed you everywhere, he saw when you learned how to ride a bike, when you got your high school diploma, when you got your first promotion. He resented every second of the hours you were woefully hidden from view. It was ridiculous; he could peer through hundreds of thousands of kilometres of space and locate you with ease, but as soon as you disappeared behind the curve of the Earth, you were out of sight? 

Yoongi couldn’t bear it when he couldn’t see you, even if he knew you were going to bed in that time and therefore had less of a chance of getting hurt. He was very protective of you. How could he not be, he reasoned, when he had saw you grow up before his very eyes. Of course, he had previously watched billions of souls come into existence and age and wither and die, all without sparing a thought. But he could never let that happen to you. He could not let you be another distant creature, always in his sight but never in his reach. 

It was difficult for Yoongi to watch you living your life without him. The first time you kissed another man, he felt an anger that had never before reared its head rip itself out of him. It raged along the shorelines of the Earth, coaxing in fearsome waves from the deep. It ripped along the streets, blowing with the force of a thousand gales. The moon almost tilted off its axis, turning its back on the Earth for far longer than it should have done. 

Yoongi saw the devastation his rage resulted in. The loss of thousands of lives. The destruction of property built by the hands of men. He only felt a flicker of satisfaction. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t enough, he would never be able to harm those around you (those who wanted to hurt you) without also hurting you in the process. You were too far, the only way he could touch you was with a broad wave of violence. And that is how Yoongi came to his conclusion.

He could not harm those around you without harming you. You were stuck down there among danger. The solution was simple: he needed to draw you to his side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He’ll never break my heart, I know he’s here to stay,” You sang, or — more accurately — shouted, using your deodorant stick as a makeshift-microphone since your friend had already snatched the hair brush. “Tell all the other boys to go away!” You screamed the lyrics together, dancing around your cramped living room. 

“Mina!” You called, pointing the stick at your friend, “Solo!” 

She cackled and then sung along with the song blasting on the radio, laughing so hard she could barely get the lyrics out. When she pointed at you again to finish the song off, you did so with flair.

“I’ll take the man in the moon.” You crooned. You both paused dramatically as the bassline faded out, before collapsing into giggles on the carpeted floor. Mina had come over to try and cheer you up after your boyfriend had forgotten to show at your anniversary date, again, and she had obviously succeeded. 

“Y’know,” you started, once the laughter had died down, and Mina hummed in acknowledgement. “My parents would always tell me about the man in the moon.”

“Tell you what?” Mina asked, rolling over onto her stomach and resting her chin on her forearms.

“Well… they would tell me stories about him.”

“Such as…?” Mina prompted, and then burst into giggles as you chucked a pillow at her for her impatience. 

“Such as… that he existed. Like, he was sent there as a punishment.” 

“Punishment? For what?”

“I don’t know,” you floundered, “For, like, being weird or something. Anyways, the point is-” you stressed, “I’ve always felt like there was someone watching me. From up there.”

Mina’s immaculately groomed eyebrows flicked up.

“So you seriously believe there’s a man on the moon?” You flushed and sat up, shrugging your shoulders slightly.

“I don’t know, it’s just… weird, I guess.”

“It’s not weird, you’re weird.” 

Mina was expecting the pillow being swung at her face that time, and fought back valiantly with a throw cushion. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your body cast a shadow along your moonlight-bathed room as you leaned your forehead against the window. Up there in the sky, the moon continued to shine as it always had done, your eternal silent companion. It was a full moon that night. You noticed that as you brushed a finger against the glass separating you and the night sky. It was difficult to believe the moon was so far away, it almost felt like, if you only opened your window and leaned out, you could cup it in your hands.

It was almost a compulsion that led you to lift the latch. Like the pull of the tide, you leaned away to twist the handle and then drew back to breathe in the night air. You couldn’t trust your eyes, as it almost looked like the moon had swollen, now bigger, brighter, closer. It became blurred, hidden as your breath formed translucent clouds which eddied on the cool night breeze, swirling faster and faster. You pitched your body further out of the window, taking one arm away from its steadying position on the windowsill to reach out. To brush the moon, as it started to take on an almost unnatural glow.

Like a moth to its burning cold flame, you were drawn in, your eyes wide, your face gleaming white as you approached the moon. A pair of eyes were stretching across space, fixed on you unerringly, coaxing you out. You felt a hand enclose around your outstretched palm. It tugged you forwards slightly, and you lost your balance, tipping into the open arms of the night. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, sweetheart. Wake up. Can you wake up for me?” The kind, almost intimate words were uttered by a voice that sounded like it hadn’t been used for some time. The hoarse, gravelly tones echoed in your head as your eyelashes fluttered. Immediately, there was a cold hand cradling your head, and another beneath your back, helping you to a sitting position as you squinted, still unable to take in your surroundings. 

Slowly, your vision cleared. A man was bent over you, his striking dark eyes swimming with concern. His skin was… so white it almost hurt your eyes to look at. The paleness seemed to have even leached the colour out of his hair, leaving him as an almost wraithlike figure. 

“W-where am I?” You croaked, your own voice rough as if it had been a long time since it was last used. You glanced around the room, trying to find an indicator of the time, or of where you were. You could find none.

His lips quirked slightly, and he guided your body back down to the bed.

“You’re safe.” He told you. “That’s all that matters. Now sleep.” As he commanded it, your eyes shut and everything went dark again. 

The man brought you strange things, food that was not food, gifts that felt almost unnatural — a doll that followed you around the room with its eyes, an hourglass that never ran out of sand. You couldn’t seem to break out of the limbo you sunk into when you fell out of your bedroom window and into this strange place. There were no windows, and when you asked the man — Yoongi, he told you to call him — what time it was, he simply smiled and told you he didn’t know either, and didn’t care to find out. 

Sometimes you woke up and felt those eyes on you, and he would be watching you. He would always smooth your hair back — which was starting to grey, or was it just paling, like his? — and tell you not to worry. He never told you what he wanted from you, and after a time (you don’t know how long) you stopped caring. You passed through many rooms, all of them the same, all of them lacking windows, until you found an exit.

You went outside and saw Yoongi, standing sentinel on a rocky outcrop. You climbed over to join him, and turned your gaze to see what he was looking at. There stood the Earth, small and inconsequential from your standing. By now, you could hardly remember what it had been like to live there. Yoongi turned to look at your blank face, skin as pale and glowing as the moon, and he smiled. He was alone no longer. 

[ramble-writes]

So here comes another valentine's gift for the glorious @franks-mixtape ! If y'all remember the 2 Franks that are brothers and werewolves that I wrote some time ago, this is going from that again because I thought about it randomly and felt like I then needed more of it sooooooo yeah! If you DON’T know, the gist is being that his Frank and my Frank are half brothers. Father being a werewolf to both which resulted in his Frank being a halfling, while mine is whole werewolf due to different mothers. 19 years apart until both came to Ormond where they met up and figured out they’re brothers. So there ya go!

Warning(s): probs just standard cussing, buuuut that’s it lol

Don’t forget to like, reblog, and follow if ya wanna see more! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

-

A Wednesday. Worst day for the 14th to fall on. Especially since it’s in the middle of the school week. Frank James Morrison sat there in the last class for the day, English. The teacher decided to focus on how Valentine’s day started from some dude who got executed in Rome or some shit. He wasn’t paying attention, finding it useless to learn about. Emerald green eyes lazily gazed around the room till they landed on his brother’s russet hair.

Frank Fenik Morrison was there a few seats to James’s left, amber eyes were trailing over the printed paper the teacher had passed out previously. As much as he was into literature, if he wanted to learn history on a subject of a man who was killed for trying to teach his religion to the Romans, he would’ve in his history class.

Fenik really was just idly taking his pencil to scribble a random design on a blank spot on the paper, the teacher’s voice seeming muffled in the background. Darkening some lines on the drawing, he felt a nudge in his mind, like someone nudging him with their arm. He lifted his eyes up and flickered to the side where gemstone eyes met and locked.

‘Dude. This shit is boring. Can’t we just.. skip out on this?”

‘I wish. But we can’t or shit’ll go down. Plus, they’ll know it’s us since we have the same exact name, minus the middle name.’

This made the raven-haired Frank sigh out loudly. He slightly scrunched his face up at hearing his other half chuckle both from a distance (thanks to his heightened hearing) and in his mind. Since figuring out the two had the same father, name, preference in tattoos, music, and other things, it made for the two getting along pretty easily. It resulted in a sort of bond to form. Since their father was a werewolf, it resulted in an animal like bond to form, that ran deeper than a standard sibling bond. Emotions, feelings, and thoughts were connected. It resulted in a mind link to have basically silent conversations.

‘Jesus fuckin Christ we have thirty minutes left of this bullshit. Feels like it’s taking foreverrrr!’

Fenik had to cover his mouth to stifle the laugh that bubbled up. Hearing him complain like a child made for lightening the boring mood. The internal complaining actually helped pass the time till the bell rang. Kids instantly got up with grabbing backpacks and shoulder bags alike and hurried for the door as the teacher called out that their homework from 2 days ago is due by Friday. Most likely, no one paid attention.

The two Morrisons waited at the bottom of the steps of Fairview, waiting on the other three of their odd pack in the snow. It didn’t take long for Julie, Susie, and Joey to come out. Julie adjusted her coat she has on as she hurried a bit down the stairs, being mindful of the snow-covered steps as she went over to the russet-haired Frank and planted her lips to his. This drew a very pleased growl from him as he kissed her back. Thankfully, those dreaded words to the holiday weren’t uttered.

“A’ight sluts! What’s the plan for today for shit to fuck up?” James asked, the name making Joey chuckle. “I’m lookin’ for chaos to burn down the grossness I feel from all this love shit.”

“I second that. There’s this jackass that’s been trying to feel Susie up in history when it comes to turning in work,” Julie huffed out. This made Joey look at the pinkett with concern on his face.

“And ya haven’t said anything?” Susie looked away at the tallest’s question which made him sigh. “Sus, ya gotta tell us when this kind of stuff happens..”

Her head only lowered before she pulled her hood up to hide her face. Joey had let out a sigh and draped an arm over her shoulders before looking at the other three. Amber, emerald, and brown eyes met and they all shared the same thought.

‘Trash the fucker’s place’

-

To cut things short, finding where the guy lives wasn’t hard. They did the standard: Egging the house, toilet paper thrown and draped over trees and parts of the house. But the brothers took it an extra step by managing to get up on the house with wadded up toilet paper, where they then shoved it down the chimney to block it up since smoke was coming out of it. And they were out as quickly as they came with a job well done. 

They all split to head to their homes, hearing distant sirens meaning the house called the fire department which was sweet music to them. Of course, the russet-haired teen snuck over to Julie’s place after her father passed out for their... usual time together. Raven, as another nickname to call James rather than by his middle name like Fenik, was laying there in bed till about midnight he heard his name being called through that mind link.

‘Thought you were busy bangin’ up Jules.’

‘Shut up and get your ass out here.’

‘Fiiine. But I still wanna hear about your adventures in the pussy caaaave!’

James snickered when he bet the other was rolling his eyes outside, but he got out of bed to get dressed in his usual letterman with an extra layer underneath since it is midnight and it’s still winter. Out the window he went and onto the ground below where his brother is standing and waiting.

“Alright, whatcha want butt sniffer?”

“Don’t. Anyway, thought it be nice to hang out since school has been riding out asses with work to get us “prepared for college” which I could care less for.”

The raven-haired teen nodded. “Yeah. It’s a lot of bullshit. Ffffuck I hate being a senior.”

“I feel that,” Fenik agreed with a nod of his head. As usual, the two headed into the forest since it is their escape, and the only way that the wolves within the both of them can be let out. It’s a nice reliever since a lot of the times going out was never an option and it would make them feel cramped.

Usually, they don’t speak when out in the forest unless they do their usual practice. But for now, it was nothing but a run. Fenik in full wolf with James keeping up at an easy stride. Surprisingly, there was no clouds which let for the moon to shine bright in the sky and reflect off the snow, practically lighting their path. 

They didn’t know how long they’ve been running, but they did come to a stopping point when the two Morrisons came across a big tree. It was there they stopped and flopped down at the base at the big roots, James leaning on Fenik and a hand running through the rust-colored fur in slow strokes.

“Ya know... I’m a bit jealous you can shift and I can’t..”

“Seriously? I dunno. I’d be pretty happy with just the heightened senses n shit.”

This made for emerald eyes to look at the wolf, which in return, amber looked back at the halfling. Concern was felt on both sides. Concern for how one felt left out of things, and concern for how the other didn’t care if shifting was a thing or not. James scooted himself a bit close to be able to wrap an arm around the back of the head of the large wolf and pressed his forehead to his, letting silence overtake the quiet between he two of them.

Something happened since one moment the raven-haired teen was small in comparison to the wolf with clothes on, to suddenly not and... the same size. It was like his body just relaxed for him to suddenly shift, but the realization got for the two to jump up onto their paws and look at each other.

James now was suddenly the same height, same build. Black fur made him look like a shadow o the white snow. Vibrant green eyes stood out like unknown lights in the darkest parts of the forest. The two were quiet, before sounds of excitement left them and they became nothing but giant mounds of fur and limbs with barks and yaps leaving them.

What felt like hours of nothing but romping around in the snow, they both flopped down panting with tongues hanging out of open mouths and tails swishing in the snow. Two sets of gemstone eyes gazed up at the night sky, the moon nothing but a white orb to the side of their vision.

“I hate valentine’s, but this? This is the greatest fuckin’ gift nature let me have haha!” James boofed out, letting his paws stretch out in front of him. It felt like all his limbs were sore from being contained, and finally was allowed to be out.

“Oh trust me. Being this way is heavenly. Feels like what freedom from the system should be. And now that you can shift, we can do this a hell of a lot more. And no one can stop the hell we’ll raise.” Fenik let out a chuff, a canine version of a chuckle. The black pelted one chuffed as well before rolling onto his side and laying close to the rusted pelt one and pressed close.

They were content like that, black mixing with rust, emerald and amber. It took only a nudge from Fenik to say that it’s best they get going. James got up and shook the snow from his fur, waiting for his brother to get up. Both standing, they trotted off to the edge of the forest where they shifted back to their human selves.

“This weekend. Can... we go running again? And... maybe teach me some wolf stuff since now I can shift?”

“Hell yeah man! I’ll be waiting ‘round seven. Sound good?”

James nodded with a slight smile before it fell. There was hesitation, but Fenik could feel it and brought his brother close for a hug. He melted into it and hugged the other back. They stood like that for some beats before breaking it off and headed to their homes with goodbyes through the link. Days and nights for now on were gonna be different, but they were gonna be hella enjoyable and that feeling of being left out vanished. Everything felt right, just as it should be. 

[burymealivexoxo]

What stops me from eating

1. Stay in bed, be too lazy to get food.

2. Make your own personal thinspo folder in your iPad or phone, or your laptop or personal computer.

(Mine’s honestly just full of Lily Collins)

3. Distract yourself with tumblr or Netflix (or other social media) or read or draw, or write in your journal.

(But sometimes it doesn’t really work for me)

4. Organize your closet, or go window shopping online and look at the models.

5. Do laundry, and while you wait around for the cycle do some light exercising in your bedroom, I personally like to do a set of 10 push ups, crunches, pull ups, and donkey kicks.

6. Take a really long shower, really clean yourself. If you can’t afford to use that much water I like to make a large bowl of warm (tiny dollop of soap) water and shave your legs while sitting on the edge of the bathtub, and a clean damp cloth to get the hairs off your legs, take a lot of care washing, toning, and moisturizing your face (and cleaning all my piercings and using really good lotion on my tattoos) put repairing product in your hair, I take your time brushing your teeth and using non alcoholic mouthwash and applying lip scrub and healing balm.

(I don’t use shaving cream, I use shitty low price Walmart hair conditioner because it makes my legs a lot softer than any shaving cream ever)

7. Use teeth whitening strips. I get the crest brand half hour ones, and for about an hour after it’s done my teeth feel too weird to eat anything or even drink water. It’s a great way to stave off a binge.

8. Do your make up (if you’re into it) and really take your time and make it perfect. If I took my time and did my make up and hair to make it perfect, I can stretch my get ready time to three hours.

9. Get a million ziplock bags. Those cheese it boxes and cereal boxes and huge bags of chips - all your snacks and items you sometimes binge on - put every single serving in one ziplock bag. Usually it's only 150 calories, and veggie straws can vary between 120-140c

Do you know how easy it is to burn off 100c? Casually fast paced. Don't burn yourself out in the first 2 minutes, just moderately with a slightly raised heart level.

20 minutes of slight incline bicycling/elliptical workout

20 minutes of dancing

10 minutes of jumping rope

5 minutes running stairs / 10 minutes walking stairs

15 minutes of purposeful swimming

20 minutes of treadmill walking

30 minutes of purposeful cleaning

20 minutes of washing a car

30 minute leisurely dog walking

10. Play an intense video game, like World of Warcraft, Guild Wars 2, Diablo, Starcraft, Leauge of Legends, etc. When you get quests or objectives it can sometimes take hours to complete and you're too busy moving your hands to eat.

11. Read a lot of books, you can't spill any drinks or get any crumbs all over it.

12. Take a nap, I have a really fucked up work and sleep schedule so I try to get sleep whenever I can, and I never can get to sleep so I use Life Extension Melatonin 300mcg (I get it from GNC) and it knocks me out after 30-40 minutes. But if you're in school or have a 9 to 5 job, you can always try to stay late or take a longer time getting home so you can just eat dinner and then get ready for bed or whatever.

13. Try to find a job, I know that's cliche and stupid, but seriously it works. I have a (usually a 12-20 hour week) part time job working at a veterinarian's where I'm literally always moving and standing and walking around, and I work (5-8 hours a week at the most) part time for Lyft, and I have an apprenticeship (time varies on that, so anywhere between 2-10 hours a day)

It's so easy for me to be busy, and I hardly think about food, the only giveaway is that I get stomach cramps and I can't exactly say I'm on my period forever, and once in a while my stomach actually screams for food and people are like "damn are you okay??" And I'm like 'ha ha yeah that just digestion noises, sorry my body is fucking weird lol'

This is all I have for right now, but all of these things can add up to 15 - 18 hours. That’s over half a day of no food. That’s a good distraction from food.

[yuki-setsu]

12 Days of (Lance) Whumpmas! - Day 8 [Mental Health Day]

i am.... late..... i’ve been away from my computer wayyy more than usual these past few days which is ahhHHHH but i still wanna get all 12 days done;;;; will slowly but surely finish them before the new year :’)

this one’s a sequel to my Day 5 Prompt (Burns), so you can read that here to avoid confusion ^^;; i had trouble thinking of a story for this prompt so i just brought back David because i was drawing a blank LOL i’m sorry

part of the 12 Days of VLD Whumpmas hosted by @vldwhumpmas2017! check out more info on the challenge here if you want to participate!

In all honesty, Lance had forgotten about David after he'd been transferred off to another campus. The whole thing had freaked him out, yeah, but the knowledge that the guy was no longer in the vicinity was comforting enough for him to go back to his daily life. More importantly, Hunk's Christmas party was coming up, and he still had presents he needed to buy for the group. But one thing led to another, and Lance found himself jogging home—careful not to slip on any ice—with an armful of shopping bags because he was running late. He was hitching a ride in Shiro and Keith's car to get to Hunk's, and they'd be coming up to get him in a few minutes. Which was good, since he had too many things to carry down on his own.

It didn't take long to get back to the apartment, and he pressed at the elevator button, busy trying to adjust his grip on the bags in his other hand. The doors opened with a ding after a few seconds, and he startled when someone pressed a hand against his back, firmly pushing him inside.

Lance stumbled forward before he whipped around, irritated. “Hey, what's your prob—”

The sight had Lance's blood run cold. David was there—actually there—in front of him, staring straight at him as the elevator doors slid shut. Why the hell was he here? His mind blanked out for a moment, alight with panic at the settling realization.

David looked... the same, if not a bit more rugged. Like he hadn't been taking much care of his appearance since Lance last saw him. How long had it been? A few weeks, maybe? Any trace of the usual lighthearted nature that Lance first saw in the guy back at the school pool was gone, replaced with a silent and cold demeanor that sent chills up his spine.

“Why did you report me?” David asked, his voice monotonous.

Lance blinked at the question, swallowing down his panic before straightening up slowly. “Dude... You –you threw boiling water at me.”

David tilted his head, as if the answer didn't quite make sense. “Because you wouldn't listen.” He glanced to the side before he pressed the button for the 3rd floor, finally prompting the elevator to move. Lance's floor. “We should talk. You'll understand after I explain.”

Lance swallowed, unnerved at how expressionless David was acting. He didn't want to set him off again, especially in such a cramped area. “You can't just... show up here out of the blue. Maybe we can talk somewhere outside...”

“You're already heading home. We can talk there.”

The elevator shuddered to a stop, the doors sliding open as David made room for Lance to step out first. Could he make a run for it? That might be a bit risky, though. He'd try to call Shiro again, maybe have him come up faster. He stepped out, careful as he slid the hand not holding the bags into his jacket pocket.

But just as his fingers grazed at the edge of his phone, another hand grabbed at his wrist and tugged it away. Lance gasped, wincing at David's iron grip.

“Don't call anyone.” David hissed, the first trace of emotion sparking across his face. “This is between us two.”

Lance dug his heels in, trying to tug his arm free. “Dude, you're freaking me out. Let go.”

Lance may be lanky, but he wasn't weak. He swam, and he could pull his weight when he needed to. Especially against David, who was smaller in stature. Last time had been an exception, given that he'd had his entire back burned. David could try and drag him down the hallway to his door this time, but Lance would be damned if he let himself be trapped at home with this guy again.

David must have realized they weren't moving past the front of the elevators as well because a flicker of irritation twitched in his eyes. “Lance, come on. I'm just trying to help. Listen to me.”

“You can help by letting go.”

For a moment, David ceased in his constant tugging and Lance thought he actually might win this one. That is, until David reached into his own pocket with his hand and fished out a pocket knife. Lance stiffened, his breath catching in his throat. Shit.

“Just come with me.” David growled, his expression dark. “You're not understanding. I don't want to hurt you.”

Did he just... threaten to injure him if he didn't comply? Lance felt his mind stutter when David tugged at his wrist again. Wait, no. He was definitely not being alone with David if he had a knife. He tensed, bracing his legs for a sprint as he used all his strength to tug his arm free. It worked, but he hadn't accounted for the momentum to pull David in his direction as well, sending them both crashing to the ground. The bags in his hand went flying, and Lance heard the Christmas ornaments he bought shatter in their casing as they fell.

The air was knocked out of Lance's lungs, and he barely got himself together when David pressed a knee against Lance's chest, hands digging in his jacket collar. Lance didn't need to wonder where the knife went once he felt cold metal pressing under his chin. Ice cold dread filled his body, strong enough to leave him frozen with fear. At this rate, he seriously thought he might get killed.

“Why won't you listen?!” David spat. “I just want to talk, and you won't listen!”

“David,” Lance fought to keep still, not wanting to move the knife any closer. He was almost too scared to breathe. “Put the knife down first, and then we'll—”

The elevator behind him dinged again, and both David and Lance froze at the noise. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught Shiro and Keith step out, remnants of laughter on their faces from the conversation they were having. It didn't take long for them to notice the scene in front of them, alarm reaching Keith's eyes before they did Shiro's.

Lance was about to call out a warning when he saw Keith dash forward, practically tackling David off Lance and onto the ground. He sucked in a huge breath once he felt David's weight leave, rolling onto his side as he choked out another breath, one hand reaching up towards his neck. He didn't feel any pain, or warm blood. He was alive. He was fine. Right?

No, David was still here. He still had a knife, and Keith was—

Lance's eyes widened, and he tried to push himself upright. Keith could get hurt, get stabbed, or worse—

Where was Shiro? He needed to—

Someone—Lance couldn't see who, his vision was spinning—grabbed at his shoulders, and Lance startled back, his breaths jerking in his chest. Why was it so hard to breathe?

“Lance. Lance! Can you hear me?” It was Shiro's voice, Lance realized. The blood pounding in his ears made it hard to hear. He tried to clear his vision, finally making out Shiro in front of him, holding him up by the shoulders. He looked all distorted and distant, which only freaked Lance out more. Where was David?

“Shiro, where—David, where is he...”

Shiro shook his head. “Keith has it under control. He's calling the cops right now. You're safe. Don't worry.”

“There's a—a knife—”

“I know, I see it. It's on the ground, David can't reach it.” Shiro rubbed a hand up and down the length of Lance's arm gently. “I need you to take some deep breaths, can you do that?”

Lance tried, he really did. But he felt sick, like his heart was about to pound out of his chest. He shuddered, nausea crawling up his stomach. “I can't—I can't, Shiro.”

“You can. I'll help you.” Shiro's voice was so calm, and Lance clutched onto it like a lifeline. “I'm gonna count each inhale and exhale, so follow me. Okay?”

Lance nodded, shaky. Shiro counted, slow and steady, and they breathed for a few minutes until Lance finally felt his chest start to loosen. The pounding in his ears started to quiet, and his vision normalized back into familiar shapes and figures. Lance blew out another breath before he let his head fall limp against Shiro's shoulder, his energy drained. It took him a moment to realize that Shiro had been rubbing large circles on his back, which felt nice.

“Feeling better?” Shiro asked, his other hand squeezing Lance's shoulder gently.

“Yeah.” Lance mumbled. But then he remembered the past events, and he jerked his head back up, eyes landing on the other pair a few feet away. Keith had gotten David onto his stomach, twisting both of his hands behind his back. David looked beyond irritated, and he tried to shift under Keith's hold when he caught Lance's eye.

Keith growled, digging his knee further into David's back. “Move again and I break an arm.”

Lance didn't doubt that he actually would. David must have felt the same, because he immediately stilled, although his gaze never left Lance's. “This is all a mistake,” David said. “I just—”

“Don't talk to him, either.” Keith shot back.

“It's fine, Keith. Thanks.” Lance said, grinning weakly at Keith's worried look. He glanced back towards David, stomach churning. “But David, don't come near me again. I'll seriously get a restraining order if I have to.”

David's eyes widened. “What? But why—”

“Look, I know you think you're trying to help, but you're not. So just... please.”

David didn't respond, staring blankly as they heard the police finally storm their way onto the floor. They asked a few questions before they escorted David off, although Lance expected that the school would contact him soon about the incident. Lance called Hunk afterwards, having already braced himself for the panicked yelling that would come once he broke the news. Pidge was already over at Hunk's, but both of them were ready to run to Lance's apartment at that rate. Lance was quick to insist they wait there instead. They were on their way now anyways, so they could talk before the party. After a few long minutes of assuring them that everything was fine, Lance hung up with a sigh.

Shiro and Keith waited until he got off the phone before they bombarded him with their own worries. “You're really not injured?” Keith asked, insistent.

Lance waved a hand, dismissive. “The only thing broken are the Christmas ornaments I dropped.” He bent over his fallen bags, carefully peeking inside of one with a frown. “Man, those were expensive.”

“Lance...” Shiro pressed.

Not like he could get anything past them. Lance sighed, gathering the bags up and getting to his feet. “Okay, yeah, that scared the hell out of me. But you guys also came with creepily good timing, so thanks. It's all good now.”

“It is not,” Keith grumbled. “If he comes back again...”

“I'd appreciate if you didn't jinx it, dude.” Lance gestured them forward, pushing the Down button on the elevator. “I'll talk to the police or school or whoever about it tomorrow. Maybe they'll ban him from this campus or something.”

“We'll go with.” Shiro said, leaving no room for argument. He reached down and grabbed half of the bags from Lance's hand right as Keith took the rest. Lance rolled his eyes, but he let them, a grin on his face.

When they reached Hunk's house, he and Pidge were both livid at what happened. Hunk probably examined him for injury more than twenty times, griping about David at the same time. Pidge muttered about making Lance a taser so that he could protect himself from creeps in the future, which Lance quickly vetoed. He appreciated the sentiment though.

The others insisted on taking turns to accompany him on even the smallest trips outside for a while, something that took Lance a bit of time to get used to. Seriously, any attempts he made to say that kind of method was a bit over-the-top were shot down in an instant. It turned out David got charged for brandishing a weapon, and would be spending a few months in jail. It was slight relief to hear, and Lance hoped this time, it would be enough of a warning.

[sylveon-official]

bustin out the mpreg fluff as everyone else busts out the porn lol

Pt. 3 of Otayuri mpreg adventures

It's two in the morning and Yuri just wants a damn cheeseburger.

ao3 or under the cut

“Beka…”

“Mmmm…?”

“Beka, wake up.”

“Wha… what time is it?”

Yuri purses his lips, but continues to softly, yet urgently jostle Otabek by the bicep. There are more much more important matters to worry about than a little thing like the time.

“Beka, please…”

Otabek finally groans and rolls over to face Yuri, an arm flung over one eye as the other seeks out the digital alarm clock on the side table, just past the bulge of Yuri’s six-and-half-month pregnant belly.

“Yura…”

“Beka…”

“It’s two in the morning…”

“I know, but—”

Otabek cuts him off with a sharp sigh, thumbs going to massage his temples.

“Babe… you promised me no more middle-of-the-night snack runs.”

Yuri huffs, folding his arms atop of his belly in defiance.

“I can’t exactly help it—”

Otabek clucks his tongue and Yuri really doesn’t think he appreciates the sound of it. Before he can vocalize that thought, Otabek cuts in again.

“I know. Yura, I know. It’s just—I also know you know I have to be up for practice at five—”

Yuri splutters indignantly. “Yeah, well, you went to bed at like nine last night—”

“—and this is the third time this week—”

Yuri scoffs as Otabek rails on, voice increasing in speed and volume.

“And I seriously can’t help but think you’re just doing this on purpose to test my patience at this point!”

The air stales in the ensuing silence, Yuri biting his lip to quell the impending outburst.

Yuri briefly catches Otabek side eyeing him, frozen in horror as Yuri’s lip trembles and small whine escapes, inevitably bubbling over into a broken wail.

“Yura!” Otabek cries, clearly exasperated, as Yuri’s sobs grow more forceful.

“Yuri, shhh, you’re going to wake the neighbors up again—”

“Is that all you care about?” Yuri whines through big, fat, theatrical tears that he honestly can’t really help, but isn’t really trying to hold back.

“Of course not, Yurachka, it’s just—”

“When your pregnant as fuck mate is right next to you, fucking starving and in a hormonal rampage no thanks to you,” Yuri sneers through hiccupping sobs and judging by the way Otabek draws in a tight breath he knows he’s pushing his mate to his wit’s end, but once he gets this wound up this tight he can’t stop until he—

“Come on, Yuri! You can’t just cry me into getting you McDonald’s at fuck-all-o’clock in the morning every fucking time you—!”

—snaps—

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, I FUCKING HATE YOU, JUST FUCKING STOP!”

Yuri is gasping ragged breaths by the time he’s done, and one glance at Otabek tells him he’s really gone too far this time.

“Yuri…” Otabek breathes, features twisted into something in between concern and shock.

Great. As if he needed another outburst to add to the stockpile of reasons for Otabek to leave him before the pup’s even born. Yuri wouldn’t even blame him at this point.

“Yura, relax,” Otabek says, barely a whisper, and it isn’t until his hand is hovering cautiously over Yuri’s own that he realizes he’s shaking.

Before his brain can catch up with his actions, Yuri’s pulling away his hand as if its been burnt.

“Don’t touch me,” Yuri rasps back belatedly.

He needs to get away from here. Yuri shuffles to his left so that his feet are off the side of the bed. He uses the side table to hoist himself up, breathing deep for a few moments to steady himself.

Otabek doesn’t say a word as Yuri slips out the door.

Yuri sits cross-legged on the couch, staring into the black of the television screen as he works slowly on his next spoonful of peanut butter. He strokes absent-mindedly at the bulgiest part of his tummy where his spawn has been kicking up a storm for the better part of the last hour, clearly an act of spite for waking her up in the middle of the night.

Tears are rolling silently down his cheeks when Otabek rounds the corner, softly knocking at the partition between the hallway and the living room. Yuri sniffles and makes quick work of brushing the tear tracks away.

“Hey,” comes Otabek’s voice, soft and cautious.

“Hey,” comes Yuri’s response around the mouthful of peanut butter he’s still working on.

“Can we talk?” Otabek ventures a little further into the room. Yuri tenses up, because when is the phrase ‘can we talk’ ever indicative of anything good? Still, Otabek’s never been that sensitive to layered meanings and Yuri nods ‘yes’ anyway, scooting towards the far end of the couch so that Otabek can take a seat a safe distance away.

Yuri is still staring into the empty television when Otabek sits down, legs spread wide enough to touch the edge of Yuri’s pinky toe that’s hanging off of the couch. He draws back instinctively, but sighs when he earns a vaguely hurt expression from Otabek in his peripheral.

“You know I don’t hate you…” Yuri starts lamely, letting the sentence hang in the air before he’s interrupted by a sharp kick to his bladder. “Ow, fuck.”

“I know. Is she keeping you up?” Otabek tentatively reaches out towards where Yuri is kneading at his belly, hand hovering and eyes questioning.

Yuri shoots him a guarded look, but it melts down quickly. He’s too tired to keep up the act and his wrist is cramping anyways. He grabs Otabek’s hand and guides it towards where the baby is kicking.

Otabek huffs what counts as a small laugh for him as he takes over the gentle massage. “Feels like she’s kickboxing your guts.”

Yuri grimaces. “Yeah. Payback for waking her up I guess…”

Otabek hums noncommittally as they lapse into a silence that’s not exactly tense, but is slightly weighted on top of the exhaustion that’s clearly settling over them both.

Yuri’s the first to give into the exhaustion and follows his instinct, setting the thoroughly licked spoon down on the coffee table sothat he can slide back into Otabek’s chest. Otabek accommodates him easily, shifting so that his back is against the armrest and one leg is behind Yuri. Yuri adjusts so that he’s lying sideways on top of him. He noses at Otabek’s neck, relaxing at the familiar scent.

Otabek’s other hand snakes around to stroke at Yuri’s elbow, thumbing tenderly at the skin there as his other hand continues to massage just below his bellybutton.

“I’m so sorry, babe,” Otabek sighs into Yuri’s hair, before pressing a long, sweet kiss into the crown of his head.

Yuri tenses up at the admission, and it’s not long after that his face is scrunching up in a sniffle that he tries to suppress — which unfortunately, just leads to more tears leaking from his eyes.

“Fuck!” Yuri whispers through a hiccupping little sob, hiding his face in the crook of Otabek’s neck while gripping helplessly onto the collar of his boyfriend’s shirt.

“Shhhh,” Otabek breathes into his hair, nosing along his scalp and peppering the occasional kiss there. “It’s okay, Yura.”

“Ugh!” Yuri beats a fist half-heartedly into Otabek’s chest once he’s gained control of his breath. “It’s not, though, Beka! I’m the one who should be sorry. I know I’ve been a fucking pain in the ass—for months now. I know I’m doing it, but I can’t stop, and I—” he chokes on a small sob before forcing through his tears, “I feel like I’m pushing you away,” Yuri sniffles, voice small and fragile.

“Yuri…”

Otabek sighs and for a split-second Yuri is genuinely anxious that he’s simply going to agree. Instead, Otabek lifts his hand from Yuri’s belly to tilt his chin up so they can lock eyes. Yuri knows his own eyes must be gross and puffy and bloodshot, so he quickly lifts a hand to cover them.

“Yuri…” Otabek sighs again, this time with a hint of laughter behind his tone that convinces Yuri to let his boyfriend gently remove the hand over his eyes.

Yuri sends an exaggerated pout in Otabek’s direction as his mate thumbs gently at the tear tracks he can feel starting to stick to his skin.

Otabek smiles softly in return, that rare, dope-y lovesick one that would leave Yuri weak at the knees if he weren’t already lying down.

“I don’t know if you realized it yet, but you’re pregnant, kotik.”

Yuri rolls his eyes and huffs at that, but Otabek just presses a kiss to his hairline before continuing, “Cravings, hormones… temper tantrums...” Otabek pauses meaningfully and smirks, the bastard, “They’re all part of the experience. And besides, if you being an ‘asshole’ is what was supposed to drive me away, I think that would’ve happened a long time ago.”

Yuri’s mouth drops open at that and he has every intention of verbally chewing his mate out, except he really can’t help the way his mouth twists into a grin on its own accord.

“You are a fucking dick!” Yuri manages between disbelieving laughter, slapping Otabek hard enough on the chest that his breath gets knocked out of him.

“If you’re the asshole and I’m the dick, we fit together perfectly—,” Otabek positively leers before leaning down and blowing a raspberry into the crook of Yuri’s neck.

“Gross!” Yuri cries out, giggling as Otabek assaults his neck, raspberries devolving into a deep chuckle that vibrates against Yuri in a way that causes a shiver up his spine…

… and an attention-starved baby to make her presence known once more.

“Ow, okay, okay, Beka, stop— she— oh…”

Otabek detaches himself from Yuri’s neck instantly, peering down as Yuri clutches at the round of his stomach.

“Yuri?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just gimme a minute—” Yuri bites out, palming at the spot where he’s cramping up.

Otabek’s hand joins him as the pain starts to subside.

“Just two more months,” Otabek sighs, gently stroking over Yuri’s bellybutton. His eyes flutter closed and he sinks deeper into the couch, pulling Yuri more firmly against his chest.

“Try two and a half. Don’t try to pretend those last two weeks aren’t going to be hell… I already feel fucking huge. If I can’t walk, you’re gonna have to carry me everywhere,” Yuri yawns, snuggling into Otabek’s chest as his own eyelids grow heavy with fatigue.

He feels Otabek scoff from the rise of his chest against his cheek but before his mate can get a word in, Yuri continues, “Also, you owe me a McDonald’s breakfast if I wake up with a fucked up back from sleeping like this.”

“Brat,” Otabek whispers behind a short laugh and Yuri smirks against his collarbone in return.

“You love me.”

“I do,” Otabek replies, and Yuri can feel him smiling lazily against his hair.

The next morning, Yuri smiles as he wakes up to the smell of egg McMuffins and hash browns.

“I figured it was better not to risk it,” Otabek is leaning smugly against the kitchen counter and ready to explain when Yuri cracks an eye open.

“I love you so much,” Yuri groans dramatically before burying his face into one of the throw pillows.

“I know,” Otabek responds with a laugh.

And even though Yuri’s back does kind of have a crick in it, he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything – even for a two in the morning food-run.