#i need to take a break from this i got fic to write

[incorrectbatfam]

One thing I rarely see in injury and chronic pain fics is the grief that comes with missing out on stuff you love because you can no longer do them without hurting yourself. Writers who have been disabled their whole lives (or at least a long time) tend to forget that not all disabled people are used to being disabled. For able-bodied characters, especially athletic ones like vigilantes, a serious injury could mean a jarring change that includes giving up the things that mean the most to them.

I was physically fine until I was 18. Back then, my sense of self was entwined with interests that required a lot of movement and dexterity. I started doing MMA in middle school for self-defense. I loved parkour and even had a few hundred subscribers on my old YouTube channel. I learned to shoot and was gifted my first gun when I was 16. I took up multiple instruments. You get the idea.

My motorcycle accident fucked up the joints on my left side—my knee and shoulder especially, but also wrist to an extent. When it first happened, I thought I'd be on crutches for a bit but things would eventually get back to normal. The pain didn't go away even after I got rid of the crutches but I figured it was just residual and I should do what I'd been doing before. It's why I turned to substances—to block the pain and do what I love, but that's another topic. I didn't recognize my injury as a disabling thing until the end of the pandemic, when I put my parkour channel on an indefinite hiatus because it was seriously wearing my body down. It might sound silly to you but I was devastated. It's like if Spider-Man wasn't allowed to swing from buildings. It took me a long time to make peace with losing that part of me.

Another piece of that grief is even when you can do stuff, it's not the same because you have to exclude certain aspects of it for your own health. It's like the Robin that died and came back wrong. I can't use certain gym equipment and I have to tell my sparring partners what to avoid. I don't go to the shooting range much now because I can't extend my arm and hold a rifle for the amount of time it takes to aim without it starting to hurt. I'm a drummer, but I need breaks throughout the setlist and I can't do anything too fast or complex with the pedals, which means I can't play some of my favorite songs and my band is limited in what we write and perform. I can't take my motorcycle on road trips without frequent rest stops. Making accommodations helps physically, but emotionally, they're not always easy to accept because that means accepting the pain as a long-term disability rather than a temporary setback.

This got super long because I think it's unexplored in fics so some tips for creators:

First, learn how the body works and how stupidly fast and easy it is to get hurt. Mine was on a residential road because I didn't pay attention for 0.2 seconds

Learn the difference between internalized ableism and being upset over becoming disabled. I think a lot of writers skip over the feelings someone would naturally experience because it can be construed as ableism. Let them be in denial, sad, angry, etc. upon finding out because acceptance almost never happens right away. That's different from being a dick to themselves or others based on disability

Also, not everyone uses the same labels or has the same vocabulary to describe themselves. Different characters will have different ways of describing depending on their personality, level of knowledge, where they come from, and their relationship with their disability. I still don't really call myself disabled since I don't have it as bad as others so I tell people what happened instead (anyone who says "differently abled" will receive a different ability from me in the Denny's parking lot)

Think about how they cope with their new disability. Do they realize it's a disability right away? Do they talk to someone? Search desperately for a cure? Numb the pain? Turn to alternative methods? Do they worry about something else first, like money? Do they develop something else because of it, like a mental illness? Again, coping poorly is not ableism

What stays the same and what changes? I think about the difference between Forrest Gump and Lieutenant Dan after they were both wounded in battle

If they have a passion they can no longer pursue, it doesn't make much sense for them drop it so readily. Maybe they find a way to continue with accommodations (a good place to get creative!). Maybe they try and push through anyway. If they do ultimately resign, include the thought process and internal conflict behind it

[lipstick-and-libraries]

New Dorm, New Chance? Pt. 1

𓋜 Pairing: Minho (XO, Kitty) x fem! Reader

𓋜 Series: The Roommate Exchange

𓋜 Summary: You are Kitty's new Roommate, after she decided to switch Rooms to avoid Yuri and Juliana, and it's not long until you get the opportunity to meet her first roommates.

𓋜 Notes:

Hey <3

I don't know if anyone is gonna read this at all, but I decided to get back into writing, and due to Season Two coming out, I have an unhealthy obsession with XO, Kitty. So, I sat down, saw the lack of XO, Kitty fics and created a little something, I hope you enjoy! I'd be grateful for any kind of feedback

The second semester at KISS was off to a chaotic start, as usual, but for Kitty Song Covey, things were finally starting to settle down. After pleading with the principal, she’d managed to switch dorms and move in with a close friend of hers, (Y/N). It was a decision that made perfect sense—Kitty needed a break from the awkward tension of her old room, and (Y/N)’s calming presence was exactly what she needed to focus on her whirlwind of romantic and academic entanglements.

(Y/N) had been nothing short of the perfect roommate. She was effortlessly chic, deeply intuitive, and, unlike most students at KISS, refreshingly down-to-earth. Kitty often marveled at how (Y/N) could command attention without even trying. The girl had a natural elegance that seemed to enchant everyone she met.

One Saturday afternoon, Kitty left their shared dorm to meet up with Yuri to continue the search for her family. “Dae, Minho, and Q might stop by later,” she called over her shoulder. “I told them they could hang out until I’m back.”

“Got it,” (Y/N) replied, lounging on the kitchen counter with a book in her hands.

When Minho, Dae, and Q arrived at Kitty’s new dorm, Minho was mid-rant about his latest gym mishap.

“Who even uses the elliptical when the treadmill’s free? It’s practically a crime—”

“Minho,” Q interrupted, rolling his eyes. “You’ll live. Just knock on the door.”

Minho sighed dramatically before rapping his knuckles against the door. When no one answered, he opened it cautiously.

“Kitty? We’re here—”

But it wasn’t Kitty who greeted them. Instead, they were met with the sight of (Y/N) sitting on the kitchen counter, one leg crossed over the other, a book perched casually in her hands. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to frame her like a painting, catching the soft waves of her hair and the slight smirk on her lips.

Minho stopped mid-step, his usual self-assured demeanor faltering.

“Oh,” (Y/N) said, glancing up from her book. Her voice was smooth, effortlessly composed. “You must be Kitty’s friends.”

Dae offered a polite smile. “Yeah, I’m Dae. That’s Q, and… Minho.”

(Y/N) nodded, her eyes flickering briefly to Minho, who was still standing frozen by the door.

“Kitty mentioned you might drop by,” (Y/N) said, closing her book and hopping off the counter with a grace that made Minho’s heart stutter. “She’s out snooping with Yuri again, but you’re welcome to wait here.”

“Cool, thanks,” Q said, settling onto the couch. Dae followed suit, but Minho hesitated, still trying to gather his thoughts.

“She’s—” Minho started, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. He coughed, trying to sound casual. “She didn’t say her new roommate was…you know, you.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She wasn't exactly popular by any means, but she also wasn't completely unknown. She leads a couple of language and study courses, and word spread that its not only brains, but beauty too that convinced people to visit her student courses.

As the afternoon wore on, Minho found himself increasingly distracted. While Dae and Q scrolled through their phones and chatted, Minho’s attention kept drifting to (Y/N). There was something about her thsn threw him off, and not in a bad way. Where most people at KISS seemed eager to impress or compete, (Y/N) seemed content just to exist in her own world.

She didn’t try to fill the silence with small talk or flashy gestures. Instead, she moved with an easy confidence, offering the occasional witty comment that left Minho scrambling for a clever response.

At one point, she caught him staring.

“Something on your mind?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Minho flushed. “Uh, no. Just…trying to figure out what book you were reading before.”

(Y/N) held up the cover—an old, leather-bound edition of Wuthering Heights.

Minho blinked. “You’re reading…that? Isn’t it, like, super depressing?”

“It’s beautiful,” (Y/N) countered, a faint smile playing on her lips. “And complicated. Kind of like people. You should borrow it sometime”

Minho didn’t know how to respond to that, so he settled for an awkward nod.

After an hour, Q and Dae decided to head out to grab food. “You coming, Minho?” Dae asked, already halfway out the door.

“I’ll catch up,” Minho said quickly, waving them off.

(Y/N) lead the two boys to the door, giving them the spare key Kitty had told her to give to them, and apologizes for Kitty being this late. Once the door closed, the room fell quiet.

Minho shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

“So…how do you know Kitty?” he asked finally, leaning against the back of the couch.

“We met at orientation,” (Y/N) replied. “She’s…unlike anyone else. In a good way.”

Minho chuckled. “That’s one way to describe her.”

(Y/N) grabs her book and puts it away on the small shelf standing in the living room and looked at him, her gaze steady but not intimidating. “And what about you? How do you know Kitty?”

“She’s…” Minho hesitated, then shrugged. “Complicated.”

(Y/N)’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “You should know a thing or two about that, based on what i've already seen from you”

For the first time, Minho felt like someone had peeled back the layers of his carefully curated persona. Most people saw him as the charming, confident playboy, but (Y/N) seemed to see through all of that.

The turning point came when (Y/N) decided to make tea.

“Want some?” she asked, holding up a kettle.

“Sure,” Minho said, joining her in the kitchen.

As they stood side by side, he found himself relaxing for the first time all day. (Y/N) handed him a mug, her fingers brushing against his. The brief contact sent a jolt through him, but he played it off, sipping his tea like nothing had happened.

“This is good,” he said, gesturing to the tea.

“Thanks,” (Y/N) replied. “It’s an old family recipe.”

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” she said, her smile teasing.

When Kitty returned later that evening, she found Minho still in the dorm, sitting on the couch with (Y/N). They were deep in conversation, their laughter filling the room.

“Am I interrupting something?” Kitty asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Minho said quickly, standing up. “I was just—uh—leaving.”

As he walked past (Y/N), he hesitated for a moment. “See you around?”

“Maybe,” (Y/N) replied, her tone light but her eyes warm.

After Minho left, Kitty turned to (Y/N), a knowing grin spreading across her face. “What was that about?”

(Y/N) shrugged, but her cheeks flushed slightly. “Nothing. Just talking.”

Kitty didn’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

(Y/N) gives her a grin of her own and links her arm with Kitty's.

"While we're on the topic, how'd your little date with Yuri go?"

Kitty's eyes go wide, nudging (Y/N) playfully while laughing

"Hey! I'm the one asking Questions, not you!"

That night, as Minho lay in bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about (Y/N). The way she smiled, the way she seemed to see right through him, the way her laugh made his chest feel lighter.

For the first time in a long time, Minho felt something real—something that scared him but also excited him.

Part 2?

[n1daehodefender]

hii 💕 I love your writings. can I please request a fic or headcanons about going on an amusement park date with daeho (or anyone else you write for)? thank youu

Going to the amusement park headcanons!!

Pairing: Kang dae ho, Nam gyu, thanos (su-bong) separately

Warnings: none i think?

A/N: im sorry i havent posted in a couple days i havent been feeling my best:) but reqs are open

Kang Dae-ho

Dae-ho is over-the-moon excited when you suggest going to the amusement park. He immediately starts planning, looking up the best rides, the tastiest food stalls, and even figuring out the least crowded times to make sure the experience is perfect.

He insists on matching outfits, joking about wearing something ridiculous like cartoon-themed shirts or silly hats, but if you agree, he’s all in.

The morning of the trip, he wakes you up early, practically bouncing around like an overexcited puppy. He’s already packed essentials: sunscreen, water bottles, snacks, and even a small first-aid kit (his sisters made him overly prepared for everything).

Dae-ho’s excitement is contagious. He practically drags you from ride to ride, beaming like a kid on Christmas morning.

He’s obsessed with roller coasters and tries to convince you to ride the scariest ones with him. If you’re hesitant or scared, he’s incredibly understanding and doesn’t push. Instead, he’ll hold your hand, joke around to distract you, and promise to buy you as many snacks as you want afterward.

He’s a pro at carnival games. He wins a giant stuffed animal for you after spending way too much time and money on it. He’s ridiculously proud of himself and insists on carrying it around all day, even when it’s clearly inconvenient.

Between rides, he loves taking quiet breaks, sitting on benches while sharing cotton candy or churros. He insists on feeding you a piece, and his bright smile when you finally let him is priceless.

He’s incredibly affectionate, holding your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, or pulling you into spontaneous hugs. If you’re shy about PDA, he tries to tone it down but can’t help sneaking in little touches.

At sunset, he pulls you onto the Ferris wheel, claiming it’s the perfect way to end the day. As the ride reaches the top, he gets uncharacteristically quiet, gazing out at the view before turning to you with a soft, almost shy smile. “This is the best day ever… because I got to spend it with you.”

If anyone bumps into you or tries to cut in line, he immediately steps in, his normally sweet demeanor replaced with a firm, protective tone. He doesn’t get aggressive, but his presence alone is enough to make people back off.

He’s hyper-aware of your comfort, constantly checking if you’re okay, if you’re tired, or if you need anything.

Nam Gyu

Nam Gyu isn’t exactly thrilled when you suggest the amusement park. He claims it’s “too crowded and noisy,” but deep down, he’s touched that you want to spend the day with him. He tries to act nonchalant, but you catch the small smile he hides when you talk about your plans.

He’s not a morning person, so he grumbles the entire way there, sipping on his coffee and complaining about how early it is. But the moment he sees your excitement, he softens and starts making sarcastic comments to make you laugh.

Nam Gyu is surprisingly fun to go with because of his dry humor. He makes sarcastic remarks about the overly enthusiastic park staff, the overpriced snacks, and the long lines, but it’s all in good fun.

He’s not a fan of extreme rides, but he’ll go on them if you want to. He tries to act unfazed, but you catch him holding on for dear life during a particularly intense roller coaster. When you tease him afterward, he just smirks and says, “I was worried you’d be scared.”

His favorite part is the haunted house. He claims he’s not scared, but you catch him flinching at the jump scares. He tries to cover it up by teasing you, saying, “You screamed louder than me,” even if it’s not true.

Despite his gruff exterior, Nam Gyu has a soft side that shows in subtle ways. He buys you a souvenir without you asking and pretends it’s no big deal, even though he clearly put thought into it.

He’s not openly affectionate in public, but he’ll hold your hand or casually drape his arm around you, acting like it’s no big deal. If you’re nervous about a ride or a crowd, he gently squeezes your hand to reassure you.

By the end of the day, he’s surprisingly relaxed and even admits he had fun (though he’ll never outright say it was because of you). As you leave the park, he mutters, “Maybe we can do this again… sometime.” It’s his way of saying he had a great time without losing his cool persona.

Thanos (Su-bong)

Su-bong is so excited about going to the amusement park with you. He insists on making it a surprise date and goes all out, even printing out the park map and planning an itinerary.

He’s like a kid in a candy store, running from ride to ride with boundless energy. You can barely keep up with him, but his laughter and enthusiasm are so infectious that you don’t mind.

He’s fearless when it comes to rides, always choosing the biggest, fastest, and scariest ones. He cheers loudly during roller coasters and even throws his hands up, encouraging you to do the same.

On gentler rides, like the merry-go-round, he pretends to be bored but secretly loves the cheesy charm of it. He jokes about riding the biggest horse and asks you to take pictures of him posing dramatically.

Su-bong is super competitive at carnival games. He spends way too much money trying to win a stuffed animal for you, refusing to give up until he succeeds. When he finally wins, he acts smug and says, “Told you I’d get it for you.”

He also challenges you to silly games, like who can eat the most cotton candy or who screams the loudest on a ride. His laughter is constant, and his playful attitude makes the day unforgettable.

Despite all the chaos, Su-bong has a surprisingly romantic side. He insists on taking cute selfies together, making silly faces and then snapping one where you’re both smiling genuinely.

He surprises you by buying matching accessories, like hats or bracelets, and proudly wears his, claiming it’s a “symbol of our teamwork.”

At the end of the day, he takes you to a quiet spot to watch the fireworks. For once, he’s uncharacteristically quiet, wrapping his arms around you and whispering, “Thanks for making today so amazing. You’re the best part of any adventure.”

[bridenore]

HD Erised 2024 recs

Here are some of my favorite fics from @hd-erised 2024. Listed in alphabetical order.

All These Winding Threads by @starquestingfordrarry [35k]

The tides of Draco’s accidental magic pull him under and leave him gasping. There’s a hungry ache that sits deep in his bones, growing worse every day. Soon it’s all he’ll be, a starving skeleton clawing at its throat. He needs a solution. Unfortunately, that solution looks an awful lot like Harry Potter.

As Luck Would Have It by @sleepstxtic [12k]

In Sixth-Year, Harry and Draco both win a vial of Felix Felicis from Slughorn and, under its influence, have sex in the Room of Requirement. In the aftermath, can Draco and Harry navigate their respective roles in the war, while grappling with their burgeoning feelings for each other?

Body and Soul by Justlikewriting [22k]

When the headaches became worse and it got more and more difficult for Draco to work, he was left with no other choice but to recognise his stupid problem exactly for what it was. Even if that meant realising that the best, or perhaps even only, solution could solely come from one person: the one person he hadn’t seen for months, the one person he was still in love with. The one person who should never know. Because, clearly, Harry would never be able to give Draco what he needed anyway.

A Dragon to Call Mine by @fantalfart [24k]

Well, Harry is tired. Somewhat. He’s been The Boy Who Lived for quite a few years now—or what Harry privately likes to call himself; The Boy Whose Life Is Continuously Messed Up By External Forces or The Boy Who Can’t Take a Break or The Boy Who Gets to Keep Living Indefinitely or The Boy Who Is So Done or even The Boy Who Is, Apparently, Never Taking Time Off—and it never really gets better. Easier, yes; boring even, but never better. So, when he was about to finish his speech that morning, when a rogue dark spell was aimed at him and that dragon showed up, white scales blanketed by the sun, Harry almost grinned. Because seeing the creature felt more like finally than it did danger. — Or, Harry finds out that living with a dramatic, opinionated dragon might be everything he’s ever wished for.

Equally Cursed and Blessed by @moonflower-rose [18k]

Harry's back at Hogwarts to attempt his final year, again. This time he's sure there'll be no shenanigans. Well. Maybe there'll be a few.

In a Year’s Turning by @hoko-onchi-writes [89k]

There’s an undeniable crackle in the air. Draco knows it down to his marrow. Can never unknow it. He doesn’t have to turn to know that Harry is standing at the library entrance. The hair on the back of Draco’s neck prickles. They’ve avoided one another for nine years. Managed not to run into one another during the week of Andy’s funerary rites. They’ve glimpsed one another several times. But they never came close enough to speak. Draco’s kept to their rules for most of a decade. Letters only. Plans for Teddy. Updates on Pansy’s gardens. No references to the Christmas of 2001. Draco spares a moment to grieve that he couldn’t have put this off another nine years. Then, he turns. “Hi,” Harry says. Draco’s throat aches. “Hello. It’s been a while.” Harry quirks a smile. "I wondered where that top went." -- Or: Harry is struggling to raise Teddy by himself. Enter Draco.

Just a little liquid luck by @smehur [5k]

Draco unbuttons his cuffs and the first three buttons at the neck and pulls both his shirt and his vest up over his head. “Oh,” comes a shuddery sigh from the other side of the bed. “No, leave it,” Potter hurries to say when Draco moves to smooth his hair back into place. “It’s just. It’s. Good. Like that.” Draco smirks, though he dares not look down at himself and the expanse of the flush burning hot stamps into his flesh. Tracking the movement of Potter’s eyes, he runs a greasy finger over the thickest of his scars. “You like them, don’t you? Pervert.” Potter tosses his head back, jostling the mass of his curly fringe from his forehead. “I bet you were into scars long before you had any of your own, Malfoy.” Yes, Draco wants to say. I want to lick yours. What he says instead is, “Fuck you.” “Fuck you,” Potter echoes, putting the same pregnant emphasis on the F. Draco bites his lower lip, wrestling down the rise of euphoria. “Your turn,” he says. “Take that off.”

The Most Splendid Thing by @lqtraintracks [61k]

Star Quidditch rivals Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter become accidentally bonded. They still hate each other, but now it’s untenable to leave each other’s sides—and my, but it feels oh so good to touch. They’re either going to murder one another, or fall in love. OR: A story in which Draco finally allows himself happiness, and Harry finally learns that he deserves to be whole.

Old love don't rust by tray_la_la [20k]

“Why do you keep coming?” Malfoy asked at last. Harry mulled over the question. For a moment he debated trying to turn the tables and asking Malfoy the very same thing. But this time he didn’t want to hold back. “Because I can’t stop,” Harry said.

The Pain From an Old Wound by @citrusses [30k]

Getting hit with a mysterious blood curse is all in a day’s work for Harry Potter. Having to work with his former colleague, rival, bully, and boyfriend, is not. Harry’s not sure which is going to do him in first: the curse sucking his magic dry, or Draco Malfoy, as frustrating, condescending, and painfully attractive as he’s always been.

palindrome by @garagepaperback [25k]

“Why did you let me kiss you?” Potter smirks. “That’s not how I remember it. Why did you let me kiss you?” “I’m stuck in a time loop. You’re not going to remember, so.” Draco’s tongue drags, calcified around the words. “Why not.” Potter’s brows furrow but the smile stays undented. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

Runaway Train by iota / @sorrybutblog [18k]

Harry was already keen to figure out what’s been causing a series of disturbances in the London Underground before Draco Malfoy showed up acting suspicious. Two explosions, several very confused Muggles, and a cloud of mysterious sticky powder later, Harry and Malfoy can’t seem to keep their hands off each other. Can Harry shag his way to the answer to all of his questions? Seems unlikely, but what can a man do but try?

A Soft Place to Fall by @amomorii [142k]

When Harry arrives for his first year teaching at Hogwarts and is struck with a bizarre malignance, how on earth is he supposed to react when Draco Malfoy suddenly cares? Or; A darkness crawls out of Harry, and there's only so long he can keep it to himself.

Storm's Eye by @shiftylinguini [12k]

Harry's surprised that Draco didn't have wards up preventing mortally wounded former school mates-turned-ghosted work fellows from bursting into his house. In Harry's addled mind, this seems like a great opening line to say to Draco's gobsmacked face. He doesn't get that far, though. Or: Harry gets hurt, Draco is a vanishing alchemist who may or may not be able to save the day, but under no circumstances are either of them willing to talk about Their Feelings. Well. Maybe "mortal peril" circumstances will do it, actually.

Sub rosa by @tessacrowley [37k]

After the tragic and unexpected death of his mother, Draco Malfoy’s quiet life as Potions Master, Hogwarts professor, and Head of Slytherin gets upended—first by the manifestation of mysterious and inexplicable magic, and then by the revelation of an inheritance deliberately hidden from him his entire life.

Where Starlight Falls by @agentmoppet [33k]

The magic concealing Sirius’s Last Will and Testament doesn’t reveal the full extent of Harry’s inheritance until two years after the war. When it does, it turns out that Harry has inherited more than just the Black Family vault—he’s inherited the family’s magic, too. He just has to find it first. And he needs Draco Malfoy’s help to do it.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[semisasseater]

놀자, 같이 you make me so thirsty

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦ ✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦ ✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯┈·✦

G!p dom se-mi x fem! reader

Summary: G!p se-mi fucking your brains out

Tw: smut with 0 plot, dacryphilia, spit, making out, degrading…? (called reader a whore and slut) maybe praise, unprotected sex, creampie/cumming inside, P in v, sub!reader dom!se-mi. lmk if i missed anything!

authors note: first ever fic on here uhm kinda nervous posting on here.. but anyways got this requested and idc if this wasn’t for me im i’m still writing this…

Not proofread!

word count: 753

⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ 𝄞 ⊹ ︵︵︵ ⊹ ⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ 𝄞 ⊹ ︵︵︵ ⊹︵︵︵ ⊹

Se-mi pounded into your slick, quivering core with relentless force, her strong hands gripping your hips as her teeth sank into her lower lip. Each deep thrust drove her thick cock against your sweet spot, making you arch helplessly beneath her. Tears streamed down your flushed cheeks as you whimpered her name in broken gasps.

“S-Se-mi…” you moaned, your voice trembling with need.

A wicked smile tugged at her lips as she met your desperate gaze, her eyes dark with desire. “Oh I know baby I know.” Her voice was low and breathy, dripping with control and lust. “It’s okay You can take it I know you can… my nasty little slut.”

Sweat trickled down her brow as her hips snapped harder against yours, each brutal thrust forcing a strangled moan from your throat. The heavy slap of her balls against your skin echoed in the heated room. She groaned, rolling her eyes back in pleasure.

“Ahh… s-shit loosen up baby you’re squeezing me so tight…” Her words melted into a growl as her tip pressed firmly against the most sensitive spot inside your tight pulsing walls.

Your body jolted. “Oh! Mngh—Se-mi!” you cried, legs trembling as you arched your back in ecstasy.

Her smirk deepened. “Yeah? You like that huh?” she hissed. Without mercy, she drove deeper and faster, her thrusts growing sharper. The pleasure was overwhelming—intense beyond reason. Breath hitching, your voice broke into a stream of incoherent babbles and high-pitched whines.

Tears mixed with drool as your mind spiraled into a haze of pure sensation. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, her rough groans mingling with your desperate moans. Your trembling hands rose to her flushed face, cupping her cheeks. Your lips, swollen and quivering, met hers in a messy, fevered kiss.

She grunted softly, cupping your face with one hand. Her thumb gently wiped your tears as her hips slowed their punishing rhythm. Breaking the kiss, she tapped your cheek lightly. “Open, baby…”

You obediently parted your trembling lips.

Her dark eyes burned with a lustful stare as she gathered spit in her mouth and let it drip onto your tongue. The heat between your thighs intensified as you stuck out your tongue to show her.

“Good girl…” she whispered. “Now swallow it all.”

You did as she commanded, your throat bobbing as you swallowed her spit. A satisfied hum escaped her, and she crashed her lips against yours once more, her tongue dominating yours as her piercing rubbed against the sensitive roof of your mouth.

Suddenly, she snapped her hips forward with a deep thrust that knocked the breath from your lungs. You broke away from the kiss with a strangled cry, a string of saliva connecting your lips before it snapped.

“Ahh—Se-mi, please!” you gasped, your back bowing off the bed as your climax coiled tighter. “I’m gonna cum—I’m gonna cum—I’m gonna—!”

Her piercing gaze gleamed with dark amusement. “Go on, baby. Cum for me,” she cooed.

With one final thrust, the tension shattered. Your body convulsed as your orgasm crashed over you, a gush of wet heat spilling from your trembling, swollen hole and coating her. A ring of slick mess formed around the base of her cock.

“F-fuck…” she gritted out. Her pace quickened as her own pleasure surged. “Shit—gonna cum—”

A guttural groan tore from her throat as she buried herself to the hilt, her cock twitching deep inside you as she spilled her release in hot, heavy spurts. Her weight collapsed onto you, her breath ragged as she nuzzled her face into your neck, pressing soft, lazy kisses against your damp skin.

“I love you…” she whispered, her voice tender and hoarse.

You hiccupped softly, your body trembling. “I—I love you too…”

She smiled, her thumb stroking your cheek. “You did so good, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You nodded weakly as she stood, running her fingers through her short, tousled hair before reaching down to help you. With gentle hands, she guided you up, pulling you into a slow, passionate kiss. Her warmth steadied you as she led you to the bathroom, her touch lingering as she washed away the evidence of her passion.

Even as the hot water cascaded over your trembling body, your mind remained hazy, clouded by the memory of her relentless thrusts and the way she had fucked you so thoroughly your very thoughts had melted away.

⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ 𝄞 ⊹ ︵︵︵ ⊹ ⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ 𝄞 ⊹ ︵︵︵ ⊹︵︵︵ ⊹

@semisasseater

[gundamthey17]

Day 5 of Payneland Promptfest 2024

I am in fact still working on the Payneland Promptfest 2024 prompts..... maybe I'll finish by December of 2025

Day 5: Snuggling (alive!au)

(the ao3 link has more info about the backstory for this au if anyone's curious. it's not super necessary for this fic, but i spent an inordinate amount of time on it because i am incapable of writing a story without context)

Summary: The Dead Boy Detectives (who are actually very much alive, thank you) find that the heat has broken in their flat-slash-office. 

xxx

23 December 1990

“Charles, do stop kicking the radiator.”

"You tried your way. Now it's my turn, innit."

Edwin, who was seated at the desk and holding the phone to his ear, sighed. "If tools were ineffective, I highly doubt blunt force will do the trick."

"Won't know until we try, will we?"

Edwin rolled his eyes as Charles continued kicking.

"What did maintenance say?" he asked between kicks.

"I am still on hold."

"Bloody brills."

Edwin pinched the bridge of his nose, a sure sign of a budding headache. Charles knew he ought to stop kicking the radiator, but he needed to vent his frustration somehow.

"You are not going to accomplish anything beyond potentially hurting yourself or breaking it further. If you would just be - yes, hello." Edwin motioned for Charles to be quiet. He covered one ear as he spoke into the phone. "Yes, that is correct. No, we still have power, just no heat... I beg your pardon?"

Charles looked up at the change in Edwin's tone. 'What?' he mouthed, but Edwin shook his head and continued speaking.

"But we have no heat! It is snowing, for heaven's sake! Is there no way you can - but I - very well. We will see you then." Edwin hung up the receiver with more force than was strictly necessary.

"What did they say?"

"As it is currently after business hours, and the start of a holiday, they cannot send anyone out to fix the heat until Wednesday."

"What? Can't you try the emergency maintenance number?"

"That was the emergency number. Apparently, lack of heat in December does not constitute an emergency," Edwin said, his voice dripping with contempt.

"What a load of bollocks!" Charles looked around their flat-slash-office. He shivered. "They seriously expect us to spend three days like this?"

"Evidently so."

"Bollocks," Charles said again.

Half an hour later, Edwin was still sitting at the desk. He had put on his coat, but otherwise seemed to be steadfastly ignoring the rapidly falling temperature inside the office.

Charles, wearing two jumpers and his jacket, had other ideas. He was in the process of raiding the bedroom and the closet for every single blanket they owned, and tossing them into a growing pile on the small couch. Even the tiny, crocheted throw blanket got added to the pile. (They had received it as partial payment for a case. It was canary-yellow and supposedly enchanted to always smell good without ever needing to be washed. It was too small to really make a difference, but Charles had already committed to finding every blanket, so onto the pile it went.) He muttered a steady stream of curses under his breath as he worked. When he had gathered every last blanket, and the couch itself was hardly visible anymore, he climbed into the middle of the pile and nestled himself in. Even after all of that, Charles was still shivering.

He also hadn’t grabbed anything to entertain himself with, or turned on the telly, before settling into his blanket nest. And once he was inside, he was loath to come out again. Surely, at some point, physics would take over and the blankets would have to start doing their job. Surely Edwin would finish whatever he was working on and – and what? Talk to him? Anything to occupy his mind and distract him from both the boredom and the bloody freezing office. He tried to wait it out, to be quiet and patient and let Edwin work.

He did not last long.

“Edwin,” Charles whined.

Edwin hummed but did not look up from his writing.

“I’m still cold.”

“And what exactly would you like me to do about that?”

It was a good question, that. Charles hadn’t actually thought about it. But the answer became immediately obvious. “Come sit with me.”

Edwin’s pen stopped. He glanced up at Charles. “What?” he asked, and there was a slight edge to his voice that Charles didn’t know how to interpret.

“Please? It’ll be warmer with both of us.”

"I find it improbable that you can still be cold under all those blankets."

"I've got bad circulation. Look!" Charles held out his hand. True to his word, his fingertips were pale and bloodless.

Edwin frowned at that, but he shook his head. “I am busy. We have a case, if you recall.”

“So? It’s a holiday, and clearly no one else is working. If emergency maintenance can take a holiday, we ought to be able to.”

“I am sorry, Charles. There is simply too much to do.” Edwin started writing again.

"Edwin! If you don't come over here, I'm gonna freeze to death."

"Charles," Edwin said in a scolding tone. "Given your history, you should not joke about such things."

"Given my history, I'm allowed to joke about such things," Charles retorted. "Come on, I know you’re cold too. I can see you shivering."

Edwin sat up straighter and pulled at the collar of his cardigan. “I am perfectly fine.”

Charles sighed. He suspected now that he knew the true cause of Edwin’s reluctance, but he was unsure if he ought to press the issue. The wind picked up, rattling the window, and Charles shuddered reflexively. Abandoning caution, he said, "Look, mate, I know you don't like touching, but if there was ever a time -"

"I never said I don't like touching," Edwin said quickly.

Charles looked at him curiously. "Didn't have to say it, did you. You go stiff every time I so much as pat your shoulder."

Edwin set down his pen and pressed his fingertips together. "I... am not used to it," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "But that doesn't mean I do not like it."

“Would you be willing to give it a shot? Please?” Charles hated the note of desperation that had crept into his voice. “I’m really bloody cold, mate.”

Edwin sighed and stood up. "Let me put the kettle on, and then I'll join you."

"Aces!" Charles couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

—--

Charles made an opening in his mountain of blankets so that Edwin would be able to sit next to him on the couch. Edwin handed him a steaming mug of tea and took his seat. They wrapped the blankets around themselves, their shoulders just barely brushing together.

Charles stared pensively out the office window at the falling snow. "Do you ever think about what would happen if we got caught? Do they arrest people for truancy? Or would they just split us up and force us to go back to our parents?"

"I think the latter is the most likely, though I shudder to think of the consequences. My father would have me institutionalized."

"For reals?" Charles turned to look at Edwin, but Edwin's eyes remained focused on the opposite wall.

He nodded. "He said as much before sending me to the school." They never mentioned St. Hilarion's by name if they could help it. "Said it was my last chance to prove that I could be... normal."

Charles snorted derisively. Then, feeling like that wasn't enough to fully communicate his disgust, he added, "That's bollocks."

"That is all assuming, of course, that the demon does not find me first." They never used Sa'al's name either. Edwin was unsure whether it could hear its name being spoken, and neither of them were keen to find out.

"That thing is not gonna take you away from me. Not a chance in – well, you-know-where." He gave a crooked grin.

The ghost of a smile flitted across Edwin's face. He took a cautious sip of his tea before asking, "And what about your parents?"

With a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, Charles said, "My dad would probably just beat me senseless. He’s done it for lesser offenses." He shrugged, feigning nonchalance, and let out a single, humorless chuckle. 

Edwin finally looked at him. "I will make sure that never happens again," he said fiercely.

Not quite knowing what to say, Charles nodded. "Cheers to that," he muttered, lifting his mug.

"It is irrelevant anyway. We are not going to be caught. We are presumed dead; no one is looking for us. We just have to make it for another year, and then we will be of age and we won't have to worry about the police or our parents."

"And we're gonna figure out how to undo a demon sacrifice, so we won't have to worry about that bastard anymore either."

Edwin's brow knitted. "I do not know if the ritual can be nullified without the caster. Since Simon and the others are all dead, it may not be possible."

"We will figure out a way. I promise."

Edwin suddenly pushed the blankets off and stood up. Charles’ face crumpled as he feared he’d gone too far. Edwin noticed and smiled placatingly. "It is all right. I'm just getting a book."

Charles sighed, relieved. He smiled too, a genuine one this time. "Brills! How about another one of those Poirot stories? I like him. He's a fun chap."

"He is a fun chap," Edwin agreed. He grabbed a large hardcover book from the bookshelf nearest to the desk, and returned to the couch.

Charles shifted under the mound of blankets so that he could put his arm around Edwin's shoulders. "This okay?" he asked quietly.

Edwin nodded. He cautiously leaned back against Charles' arm before opening the book. "What about The Adventure of the Clapham Cook? I do not believe we have read that one yet."

"Don't think so. Let's hear it."

Edwin cleared his throat. "At the time that I was sharing rooms with my friend Hercule Poirot, it was my custom to read aloud to him the headlines in the morning newspaper, the Daily Blare.”

—

Several short stories later, Charles had fallen asleep. His head lolled against Edwin's shoulder. Edwin was surprised to find himself feeling quite comfortable. Between the blankets and their combined body heat, he hardly noticed the frigid temperature of the room. He gently set the book aside. Then, hesitantly, he rested his head against Charles'. Charles did not stir. With Charles' comforting warmth next to him, and his soft curls under Edwin's cheek, Edwin closed his eyes. Soon, he too fell asleep.

[macking-cheese]

i read the synopsis of ur mindtrapped au and hhhough brother it has me feeling THINGS /pos. i LOVE the concept of bee getting mind controlled esp since he's considered prime's most loyal scout- it also makes me wonder just what happens with that final battle. do the terrans have to fight optimus and elita without bee's help? does breakdown step in to help?

and I SAW THAT NOTE about the chip being clamped around his spinal cord/movement cord. i can only imagine the sheer horror if they tried to deactivate and remove the chip, but instead of blinking back to awareness bee just drops, collapsing and going completely limp....

Yes yes yes!!! I'm torturing myself trying to focus on the plot leading up to that but I'm so excited to get to the events during and post the big battle!!

Breakdown does show up to help and it stirs a huge mess of emotions, and while I originally planned on keeping Bee as far as possible from the terrans for most of the fight, I think I want to squeeze in some terrible author mischief hehe. Maybe Breakdown fails in distracting him and lays there watching Bee stalk off to find the kids praying that things don't get too messy.

And things get messy alright *evil finger twiddling*

And while he never personally got to know the terrans, they were just kids in need of help. He knew that they held a special place in the Autobots' sparks, especially Bumblebee's, and he'd be damned if he let anything happen to them, and that spurs him to get back up and fight again no matter what.

At some point he gets absolutely bodied by Elita-1. Messy as hell. He loses his left arm in that fight. (I think it'd be interesting if the two had an interaction post-fight, where they have a nice long chat about things and both leave with a mutual respect for one another. She apologizes for tearing him up and he apologizes for being a shitty Decepticon in general, and for not being there when Bee needed it most. He vowed to step up and be the no. 1 supporter through Bee's recovery later in the story)

On the other end, the terrans are straight up NOT having a good time. Any attack can hardly get through, considering they're just kids up against the two BIG ASS WARFRAMES known as Optimus and Megatron. A huge majority of the reason they're still alive and intact is because they know their best bet is strategy. Hiding, sneaking, playing defense, using their opponents' own skills against them, things they learned from Bumblebee. At some point Twitch and Megs get their own "breaking through" moment, her getting a good attack in that partially damages the badge on his chest. (I'm experimenting with neopronouns for Cybertronians, being more frametype or status based than gender expression based. For example a seeker would use designations different than a standard ground-frame. I can share more if that is an interest to anybody. I say this because in the fic I will be writing them using different pronouns)

Anyway, Bumblebee comes back in eventually and it's obvious how his fighting is different than he would act in his right mind. It's sloppy, brutish, completely on the offense. Jawbreaker immediately nopes out of that, but is pressured into giving a few attacks by Thrash. Thrash is scheming up a way to immobilize the scout to keep him from jumping them so they can help their siblings. Nightshade and Hashtag are off trying to evade Optimus to get to the big monolith and shut it down. Twitch is having her moment with Megatron.

Swindle jumpscare RAHHH

So he and co show up and I think it'd be funny if Hardtop knocked Bee over in his alt-mode (a little throwback to when Swindle got pounced on the second Bee saw him), and they take over the fight while Soundwave orders the kids to go on get. Thrash and Swindle have a swift, bitter exchange before he and JB run off to join Nightshade and Hashtag. Soundwave immediately clocks onto Megs and Twitch is sent to join her siblings too.

I'm honestly not sure how the fight with OP would go down. I'm sure it'll be a tough one. However I think it'd be cool to get a moment where Jawbreaker takes advantage of being a dinobot and manages to lure Grimlock into landing some good hits on the Prime.

I think I need to stop otherwise this'll get so much longer and spoil more of the fic. I am so glad you like it!!!! It is currently eating me up inside to work on this, and I keep getting urges to draw for it but I don't even know what I'd draw. I have a bad habit of overthinking things and trying to pack in extra details and the hyperfixations are NOT helping. Please expect a possibly unnecessarily long description of how Bumblebee crawls through a vent. I'm so normal about him.

[total-drama-brainrot]

This Alenoaheather AU is bringing me an unholy amount of serotonin and I love it- I’m still just now discovering it and I wish I knew about it sooner😭😭 But question if I may!

So, by the time Noah gets eliminated, where would you say his relationship lies with Alejandro and Heather? Like, does he leave the competition like, “You both tried to play each other, but I ended up playing the both of you, L” Like does he just think that Alejandro and Heather only romantically like each other, and he was just their attempt at emotionally manipulating one another, or does he at least have an idea that they potentially may feel romantically towards him? Honestly I’m just curious about how his elimination would play out between the three of them-

I'm glad other people are enjoying this AU as much as I am. Me and Perp are slowly spreading our Alenoaheather propaganda and it's working.

It's been established that Noah's elimination in this AU will take place at some point in the early post-merge game, probably either China or the Serengeti (though Niagara Falls might work too. We haven't exactly touched on how each challenge can/will play out since this whole concept has been put on the backburner), which gives his dynamic with Heather and Alejandro time to blossom from the initial double fake dating ploy into something more genuine.

Well before his elimination, Noah's been caught in his double-crossing ways; or to be more accurate triple-crossing, since Noah initially decided to play along with both Heather and Alejandro's schemes with the intention of throwing them both under the bus (or at least reaping all of the benefits for himself). But, by the time his ploy is figured out, the three of them have developed genuine feelings for each other.

As such, Heather and Alejandro are hesitant to have him eliminated; sure Noah somehow managing to pull the wool over their eyes for as long as he did was infuriating, but it was also impressive. Like recognises like, and the two biggest schemers in the game can appreciate when they've been outplayed, aggravating as it is, especially when the person who bested them essentially used their own trickery against them. Also, though the two of them would never admit it, both Heather and Alejandro know that they'd honestly miss Noah's caustic company.

Of course, at this point in the competition Heather and Alejandro are still deep in their "rivalry" phase, so it takes the two of them a very convoluted and overcomplicated conversation to figure out that they both share the same sentiment concerning a certain cynic- since every encounter they have with each other is practically a game of backhanded compliments and dancing around the true meaning of their words. It takes even longer for them to come to an agreement, given how stubborn the both of them can be, but eventually they manage to co-operate.

Which is what leads to The Confrontation, the point in the story where the two fake dating plots merge into Heather and Alejandro putting aside their differences to rule the game together, utilizing Noah as their shared right hand man since he's shown a knack for strategy and subterfuge. After all, why would they want to get rid of the one person on the jet who's able to go toe-to-toe with them in terms of scheming, when they can instead keep him around as an accomplice?

At least, that's the excuse they both use. But the two of them internally can't deny that, even if it was all pretend, Noah wasn't a bad "boyfriend" by any means, and they genuinely enjoy his company. In turn, Noah's accepted that neither Heather nor Alejandro are as insufferable as he initially assumed, and that playing along with their grand plots is actually really fun. (And maybe he also likes the two of them, but Noah would never admit that.)

But there's a a whole cast's worth of people on the jet who the trio also have to consider in their plans; it would be super suspicious of all three of them if the flirting and Aleheather's animosity suddenly ceased. No matter how oblivious the rest of the competitors are, a sudden public change in their dynamic would be the equivalent of waving a huge red flag and screaming "hey, we're in an alliance, vote us out!" Very counterintuitive to their goal of winning the competition.

So the three of them resolve to act as they have been during challenges, and sneak off to the confessional when it's most convenient/feasible to do so, where they can plot and scheme away from the rest of the cast.

This means that, at least to everyone else in the game, Noah's still in this weird grey area where he's actively flirting with both Heather and Alejandro. Or, well, "flirting", since I imagine most of the advances would be initiated by the other party and Noah would play the part of the blushing damsel- or more accurately the begrudging but highly amused recipient, since I just can't conceptualise snarky, stoic Noah being the type to get flustered easily.

I imagine The Confrontation would happen somewhere around London timeline wise (it just feels like the most appropriate place to have a major shift in the plot happen, for obvious reasons), which would give the initial fake dating aspect of the AU time to run it's course without getting stale, and allow the three of them to establish their dynamic as a trio before the merge hits. It'd give Alenoaheather around five or six episodes worth of time to grow closer as a trio (from Greece's Pieces to Niagara Brawls, at least) and have their feelings grow and develop at a natural pace, to the point where they acknowledge that, perhaps, not all of the romantic tension between them is fake.

And then, of course, the Fake Cheating Arc happens. Noah's elimination is the catalyst for this section of the plot, which Perp and myself touched on pretty heavily in one of our reblog chains, and at this point in the story Alenoaheather are in a sort of vague kind-of-dating situation; the three of them know there's feelings there, but they're all more invested in the competition (and their manipulation of such) than trying to figure out what exactly is going on between them. Plus, World Tour takes place in 2010- concepts like polyamory weren't exactly common knowledge back then, so the three of them wouldn't have any basis of comparison for what their dynamic is/would be.

That, and the three of them are all fairly emotionally closed off, so getting them to admit genuine feelings for each other and show vulnerableness to anyone would be like pulling teeth. As it stands, they're fairly content to continue acting as a Trickster Trio, contented to leave whatever's going on between them unlabelled for the time being in favour of focusing their time and energy on winning the million. There's an unspoken understanding between the three of them; what they have is special, inconceptual and indescribable by mere words... which is mostly just an excuse for the three of them not to breach the subject, since they have the collective emotional intelligence of a spork.

That doesn't mean they don't love each other. Because they do, even if some of them (Heather and Alejandro) aren't exactly familiar with concepts like "unconditional love" and "loyalty/compassion for someone besides yourself" and "lowering your emotional walls and being the most genuine version of yourself in front of the people who care about you". It's a steep learning curve, but they're doing their best.

But that's besides the point; at this point in the plot, the trio are essentially a throuple in all but name at the point of Noah's elimination.

That's why his suggestion of playing off of his "cheating" is initially met with hesitance on Aleheather's part- they don't want the one person on the jet (besides each other) they actually care about to risk his reputation, but they also know that it's a strategically sound idea. There's a conflict of interest between their desire to win the competition by any means necessary, and the budding sense of empathy they've both began to develop as a result of their situationship.

Of course, they eventually agree to his plan, and then the whole Cheating Arc plays out as it's been explored previously.

Which means Noah's actual elimination ceremony is a very tense affair.

He's intentionally playing himself up as kind of a scumbag during it, since he wants both Heather and Alejandro to appear as sympathetic as possible to the remaining competitors, so the three of them stage an altercation during that day's challenge where Noah's caught out in his "cheating", and consequently "admits" that he's been playing the two of them and it's all ingenuine on his part, to direct the majority vote against him. It'd kill two birds with one stone that way; Noah gets himself eliminated without having to do much out of the ordinary, since he's already kind of an asshole so all he really has to do is play up that aspect of himself a little and lie about manipulating his partners, meanwhile Heather and Alejandro can reap the benefits of whatever brownie points they gain from being his "victims" by using their own manipulative prowess to adopt the role of the ex-villains, redeemed by their shared heartbreak. Or something equally melodramatic.

Noah doesn't really care about the specifics of it, he'll be long gone before his partners can start playing up their "betrayal and heartbreak", and then soon enough one of them will win the competition. And spoil him rotten with their money.

So, during the actual ceremony, Noah becomes persona non grata. No one wants to sit anywhere near him on the benches, and the remaining cast members form a protective wall between him and a distraught Heather, who sniffles back quiet tears every time her eyes wander too close to the cynic's slouching, impassive frame, and Alejandro who's sat eerily still and taut with disgraced fury, who's fiery green eyes haven't strayed from the burning glare he's shooting towards the bookworm.

Not that Noah's a stranger to receiving glares; the rest of the cast are also shooting him some downright murderous looks. Though he is impressed by his partners' acting abilities. He's also physically biting back pearls of laughter- the gritting of his teeth only serves to make him look unapologetically indignant, and thus more irredeemable in the eyes of their company- because every time Alejandro knows that no one's focus is on him, he sends his cerebral partner a cheeky wink and a smirk. The smug bastard.

Unsurprisingly, the vote is fairly unanimous. Chris doesn't even bother trying to raise suspense or tension by counting the votes, since the result is inevitable. That, and the atmosphere is already so tense and dramatic, the host is revelling in it. Chris even goes so far as complimenting Noah for outshining Duncan's cheating fiasco, showing the audience "what real relationship drama looks like", and maybe even congratulating Noah on almost being as heartless as he is.

He's escorted to the Drop of Shame, parachute backpack in tow, but before he can take the plunge he glances back at his audience. A raging sea of hostility greets him, but within the depths of animosity two shining beacons of light greet him. Alejandro and Heather shoot him a fleeting wave, the ghosts of smiles flickering across their features before they continue their flawless acts, but it's enough to reassure Noah that everything will be fine.

(Spoiler alert, things don't end up being fine for Noah.)

Of course this is all just an idea I'm spewing out. Nothing in this AU is set in concrete and it's always open to peer review or change. That's the beauty of public AUs; you can do whatever you want with them!

[greentrickster]

Divine madness may be a rush, but it is still a madness. And, in the end, all madnesses must be collared or cured.

[wikiangela]

wip wednesday

tagged by @jesuisici33 @callaplums @daffi-990 @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie 💖💖

made a bit of progress on the sick fic so here it is🤷

prev snippet

___

“Maybe we should get you to a doctor.” Buck muses, wrapping the blanket over Eddie’s shoulders.

“I don’t need- I just closed my eyes for a second. I’m fine.” he grumbles, fumbling with the blanket too long to want to actually throw it off, but he does in the end – he’s cold and refuses to admit it, and he’d rather sit here and pretend he’s fine. He’s impossible.

“Eddie, that cough did not sound fine.” he points out. 

“Buck-” he sneezes, and then wraps the sleeves of his hoodie over his palms. Buck raises his eyebrow, and Eddie pointedly avoids his eyes, as he not-so-discreetly wipes his nose with a sleeve. 

“I bought tissues.” Buck reaches for the bag and digs out a box, then tries to give it to Eddie, who, instead of taking it, just levels him with a stare, as he sniffles loudly, and swipes a sleeve under his nose again. “Seriously? You’re gonna be gross and disgusting just to prove you’re not sick?” That’s a new level of stubborn Buck hasn’t seen from Eddie yet. He can’t believe this is the man his heart decided it wants. And that even while sick and gross and stubborn and ridiculous, a part of Buck is still endeared by him.

“I’m not.” Eddie insists, sounding so congested Buck swears he can feel it in his own sinuses. “Let me just finish my coffee, and then I-” another sneeze. “Have so much to do today.” he finishes, but at least this time he reaches for the tissues, looking anywhere but at Buck, cheeks red.

“Yeah, no, all you’re gonna do today is rest and take some medicine.” Buck says decisively, then takes the bag in his hand, and slowly starts walking to the kitchen. “Get comfortable, and I’ll just put this all away and be right back. I bought meds, tissues, and something to cook you some soup-” he starts listing off, getting louder the further he gets. “Oh, and stopped by the farmer’s market to get honey. Did you know that honey has antioxidant and antibacterial properties?” he asks excitedly, ready to tell Eddie every single thing he found in his quick research. Buck learned a long time ago that with Eddie he doesn’t need to hold back and can rant and ramble all he wants, and Eddie is happy to listen to him.

“Yeah?” Eddie yells back, voice hoarse and strained. Buck can hear the couch shift as Eddie gets comfortable, maybe even finally lays down. He knows Eddie won’t just give in and admit he’s sick, but this is a start. “Why don’t you tell me all about it?” he sounds genuinely interested, though also really tired. 

“I will, just a sec! I’ll make you some tea with lemon and honey, how’s that sound?” he asks, and gets a grunt in response, though he’s not sure if that’s an answer, or if Eddie’s just trying to suppress a cough in an attempt to hide that he’s sick, as if Buck didn’t already know. He chuckles to himself. He really has his work cut out for him today.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gayarthur @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @eddiediaztho @housewifebuck @lover-of-mine @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @hoodie-buck @monsterrae1 @hippolotamus @ladydorian05 @forthewolves @honestlydarkprincess @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @eowon @theotherbuckley @weewootruck @thewolvesof1998 @giddyupbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @hoodie-buck @spotsandsocks

[sluckythewizard]

BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary

"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.

Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.

One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.

Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.

The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.

Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?

A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.

But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.

As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.

The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.

Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.

"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.

"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.

But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.

"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.

"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."

Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.

"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?

Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...

"Hey, are you okay?"

The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.

"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.

But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?

The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.

The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.

"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"

"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.

The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.

It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.

Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.

Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"

Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.

"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"

"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.

"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.

"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."

"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.

While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.

"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.

The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.

The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.

A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.

That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.

The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.

Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.

It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.

It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.

Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?

The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.

"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.

Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.

Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.

He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.

Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.

A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.

It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.

Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.

Like a mouse to a snake.

This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.

The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?

Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.

His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.

"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"

Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.

Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"

Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.

"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.

Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .

As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.

The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.

"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.

"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."

The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.

"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."

"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.

He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.

[sarcasticgaypotato]

In honor of the latest Panthera chapter.

Spoilers but also come on she's been a cat for like. 13 chapters, I can only contain myself for so long.

As always, Panthera by @idrewacow

[kanene-yaaay]

Bad Days and Good Nights

Warnings: This tickle fic contains angst, hurt/comfort, family tickles, fluff, family fluff, usual siblings shenanigans and cheer up tickles. (It happens after a few years of Mari’s accident. The story itself doesn’t focus on that but there are a few hints of how everything affected them). It has Lee!Kel and Ler!Hero with a quick Ler!Kel and Lee!Hero. Around 6.000 words.

Kanene’s notes: I am once again losing myself in scenarios w siblings being good bros and cheering each other up. So!! This one is for two of my faves boyos: Kel and Hero!!! yeshhh!!!

Tbh I don’t think that this is one of my best works but it still deserves its time under the spotlight. I hope you all enjoy the story!! Thank you for your attention <3

[~*~]

Today was not a good day.

Kel knew that. Deep down he was aware that his hands were more twitchy than normal, that his brain was really, really trying but all the words his teacher said simply stopped having meaning a long time ago and only felt like senseless background sounds being dropped in the room. 

He knew that when he took a sip of his usually tasty and favorite energetic orange drink and it tasted just like always but today the citrus felt almost unbearable on his tongue. He also knew that when he remembered that he was going to meet with his basketball group after school and how that usually would have him bouncing on his feet and smiling like crazy but that today it didn’t even make the bad heavy feeling on his stomach go away.

However, it was fine! That was no problem at all because everyone feels under the weather most of the time. It’s pretty normal and all you can do is just keep going with your life, act normally and anxiously wait for the moment when all the bad feelings will just disappear, right?

It must be. After all, it really did work! Even if sometimes (more often than not) the sadness would sneak back and cling on his back like a parasite, pushing memories inside his mind and making his chest ache about the moments that he would never be able to get back to and tremble with what that could possibly mean. But that doesn’t mean that the plan didn’t work in the first place! Just that… sometimes stuff takes effort to work. And it did work. It did. 

Most of the time. 

Sometimes.

…Often enough.

Still, he just had to smile, push forward and wait for it!

The bell rang, an ear splitting tune that always made Sunny flinch and grimace (Kel wondered how he was doing) ringing all across the classes and signaling the end of the period. The boy felt a relieved sigh leave his lips, a bounce taking over his movements. See? Waiting really did work! He began shoveling all his textbooks and stray papers (eh, they would end up with wrinkles and tears but that was an inevitable fate of every piece of paper in the world), a pep on his step as he got up.

“Kel, please have a little more patience and wait for me to give you your test back before dashing through the door.”

Astonished blink. The rest of the classroom suddenly came back to focus as his classmates’ snickers filled the space. Everyone was still sitting down except for him and the girl with green strands of hair and a cool tattoo on her arm (she knew some very good shows and always carried a kind of game around. What was her name again?) folding a paper (her tests) and putting on her bag before heading to the door. His teacher looked at him with an arched eyebrow and an amused stare, lightly shaking his head when Kel chuckled and scratched the back of his head, a bit of embarrassment running hot on his face.

“Sorry, teacher.”

“Patience is a virtue, but we all take some time to conquer it. I know that I didn’t find mine yet.” The adult winked and went back to calling his classmates names, handing them their grades and saying one or two things that Kel couldn’t really - nor wanted - listen to, still feeling a flaming kind of hotness racing through his veins. 

(Usually it wasn’t so bad. Usually he didn’t mind any poke of fun. Usually he would even make one or two jokes to follow it. But today was a bad day. Today everything felt too sharp around the edges. Like just the tiniest push would make everything explode.)

It didn’t take too long before the classroom cleaned and he was the last one there. It was kind of predictable when his name was called.

“Here it is, Kel.” A C+?? That is not bad at all! It wasn’t any five stars grade or anything worth a celebration but it really wasn’t bad. 

“Cool. Thanks, teach!”

He tried to open his bag, failing. The zip was stuck.

“You know, Kel. I also was your brother’s science teacher.” Kel hummed in agreement, that was the case with most of his teachers since he and Hero had very close ages, just partially listening to the words while fighting with the zip of his bag that probably got stuck with one of the crumbled papers inside it. Ick. “Henry was a very good student. He is now studying to apply for medical college, right? I hope he gets in.” 

Kel tried again to open and close the zip without damaging the paper inside the bag. It got stuck again. Yep. At least he tried to be gentle. Now the paper had to go down. It was its inevitable fate since the beginning of the times.

“I think you also have a great potential, Kel. The points you bring on your presentations are really good and while grading this test I can’t help but feel like…” Finally! Kel managed to fully open his bag and then place the science test inside. His teacher seemed almost done talking to him anyway, which was good. He was kind of hungry.

“I expected more from you, Kel.”

Ah.

Kel froze.

That was… fine. Normal. Teachers, parents, people in general weren’t ever very impressed at Kel’s grades. Or even happy. Or had any positive feelings about them in general.

“Hehe, sorry, teach.” The words came tumbling from his mouth before he realized what he was saying. Filling the air with a halfhearted laughter before the silence could get awkward. “I will try my best on the next one!”

(He had tried his best on this one.)

Yeah. He… he would. Science was one of his favorite subjects. He definitely could try better. Not that what the teacher said got into him or anything. It was fine! It…

It kind of stung.

Actually, it kind of stung a lot.

He said something else to which the adult replied, but once again it felt like the words tumbling right out from his mouth had no connection with his brain. He headed to the basketball court in the park, way too much feelings cutting and bubbling deep in his soul.

Irritation had always been normal to him, like a bug nipping at the corner of his brain and flaring its wings at any small kind of frustration or mean commentary thrown in his way. Now, however, it felt different. A hot, thick and slick kind of anger numbed his hands and filled his lungs, making him want to scream or do something stupid.

Today was not a good day.

(...)

Two hours had passed. He played basketball and it helped. The concentration, the methodic throws, constant running, sounds of sneakers hitting the concrete, mindless shouts and encouragement screams were good to push his thoughts away and let the adrenaline and feelings boiling in him explode all at once and gradually slow down until only a tired kind of exhaustion clung to his frame.

Kel arrived home, sighing in relief when he discovered that both mom and dad were out, probably buying groceries and having ice cream when mom complains that dad hasn't taken her out for a date in forever and how nowadays no husband tries to be caring and romantic anymore. Kel was just glad that he doesn’t have to show anyone his test to anyone right now.

His room was empty. Right. Hero was probably still out studying.

He hopes his brother remembers to take breaks and have a snack while he is there. He has been working too hard these last months. 

(It was great to know that at least one of them was trying their best.)

It’s nice to see him up and about again, the determined shine in his eyes subdued, but not completely erased, even if it took a too dark tunes sometimes. 

For all that Hero was smart and caring, he often forgot the simplest things, like that he is a human with basic needs.

His bag went to somewhere on the floor as Kel threw himself on the bed with a little too much force. He was tired. And should probably take a bath if he didn’t want to have a lecture about hygiene in some hours.

Oh well, sounds like a problem for future Kel, if he ever heard one.

The younger one fell into a dreamless sleep.

(…)

There were fingers caressing his hair, slowly pulling him back to consciousness and unfairly stopping the heavenly petting and beginning to mess the strand as soon as Kel showed signals of opening his eyes.

“Wakey wakey, Kel. It’s time for dinner.” Hero’s voice rang in a light tune and Kel incoherently grumbled in protest, mechanically sitting on the mattress with one swift movement. Not pushing the offending hand away only because he knew that doing so would just fuel the older to try to “show his giant brotherly love” further and Kel wasn’t quite in the mood for that right now.

He was feeling a bit slow. 

Better, but still slow.

Kel yawned, getting up and heading downstairs to the kitchen, missing the look Hero gave him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a slight tint of a worried something else.

The good thing about family dinners was that his mother was always more than happy to fill the silence with stories about the past, about her childhood, their childhoods or events that happened earlier on the day. His dad prodded him about his day and Kel mentioned the basketball practice before letting Hero take over with his talk about his studies and the clubs he was in. So he was free to just concentrate on chewing and thinking about what more he could do to fill the evening so he wouldn’t take another hour long nap and ended up waking up full of energy in the middle of the night. 

(Maybe he should try calling Sunny ag-)

Heading upstairs was uneventful and the shorter one stopped in front of the television in his room with a thoughtful pose. He could watch his comfort movie but…

Kel shook his head and marched with determination to get the already old DVD case. It’s been years since Hero last played the game they always did when that movie was passing on TV. He probably wouldn’t even remember about it nowadays. Even if he did, he would be too busy studying to-

“Is that Cosmic Boy? Wow, it’s been a long time since I watched it!” Kel yelped, jumping in the air with how the sudden voice of his brother cut the air.

“Hero! Don’t sneak on me like this. I almost dropped the case.”

The older one winced apologetically. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to do that.” His features, however, quickly changed to a watchful gaze that ping ponged across Kel expression and body language, trying to find any hint about the reason of the quietness that washed over him during the whole dinner. “You are just very distracted today, Kel. Did something happen? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Please don’t be about her, please don’t be about her I don’t think I am ready for this yet-

Kel shook his head with force, as if he could physically throw his thoughts from his brain with just this action, a habit both of them had, although it was unclear who copied it from who.

“It’s nothing.” 

There was a slight pause between the words. Hero never told Kel that but this was his biggest tell during his lies. Usually he was just so used to spilling anything in full honesty that when he tried to lie he always second guessed what he was going to say.

Besides, it wasn’t a ‘there isn’t anything’, but ‘it’s nothing’, so he was right, there was something that was really bothering his little brother.

While Kel moved his attention back to the TV, putting the DVD on the device, Hero subtly bit his lower lip, looking at his desk filled with books and papers scattered all across the place. The usual guilt of not studying at every single available moment in his life was already beginning to chew his brain.

However… 

Kel sat a few meters away from the screen, his orange basketball in hands, being clung to his chest in a shadow of a hug. He always looked so… small, sitting like that.

All the doubts vanished from his mind at this moment. There was just no subject or college in his world that could be more important than his brother.

He was not going to fail him again.

“I am going to get popcorn.” He smiled when Kel turned at him, pleased and surprised with the promise of a snack and company. “Mom is in a good mood today so I am going to try to convince her to open the box of chocolate she is holding on for the holidays.”

“I want the one with caramelized peanuts, the orange one and the big milk chocolate candy or also the one that taste like bananas-”

“That is dad’s favorite, there is no way for me to convince him to give it to us.” He chuckled as Kel whined as he fell on the floor, an annoyed pout blossoming in his face.

“It’s always dad's favorite. I wanted to try it.”

“That is the thing about favorites, Kel. they usually don’t change.” The younger one pouted more and rolled on his side to look at the TV, giving Hero his back in a grump style. “We can buy it the next time we go to the grocery store, you know? Just give me a reminder.”

Kel hummed, still looking at the screen, already uninterested in keeping their banter going. 

Yep, a very special cheering up and good ol’ brotherly bonding time was in order, then.

It didn’t take long, just a few charms, lots of puppy eyes and promises of buying another box and a nice something before he was sitting right next to the shorter one with a big bowl of popcorn and lightly nudging the boy to a more comfortable position to eat.

The movie started. Hero couldn’t lie, especially as he got older, but the film was nothing but just a simple animation with an even simpler plot too full of fond memories to be forgotten. Three friends being lost in space and finding - after years of their childhood being filled with rules, boredom and routines - a world with a colorful circus where they finally discovered what it was like truly being a kid and having fun.

When he was little, it had been one of his favorites and his love for it quickly spread to Kel, who were more than happy to weekly bother his older brother to watch it again and again, usually getting so excited about it that it was almost impossible to get him to actually watch the movie instead of just continue to jump around with his giddy energy, basically screaming the lines with the characters.

Most of the time it would take a while to get him to calm down and sit to enjoy the movie with him, especially because the little boy kept doing all the stuff to get him in his nerves. 

The older one glanced at his brother. It was almost unnerving how quiet and… not-moving he was now when he looked back at those memories.

… What did he even do to stop Kel from causing a ruckus and actually sit down to watch the movie?

There was a game, wasn’t it? How did it go, again…?

Mindlessly and lost in his thoughts, Hero stretched his arm to get more popcorn, which would be a totally fine and normal move if it wasn’t that movie and it wasn’t for that scene getting close, which meant that Kel had his eyes glued on him and his actions, knowing very well that if his brother remembered The Game, this usually would be the moment that he would start it.

That is why such yelp left his lips when Hero’s hand got closer, nerves buzzing and body throwing himself on his side while a hint of a smile grazed his mouth.

Hero only looked at him confused. 

“Kel? What wa-”

But before he could say anything else, the circus’ showman - one of the best characters of the movie - laughed and his excited announcement filled the space, taking, just like he always did when showed on the screen, all the attention to himself:

“A ride? Of course! We can visit any planet in the Universe! The planet of the infinite tickles, the planet of snickering elbows, the planet of the hilarious beetroots!”

The rest of the sentence disappeared as suddenly Hero’s brain was filled with plenty of giggling and squirming memories.

The planet of infinite…

Oh.

Hero remembered, now.

Kel, who was busy squinting and watching his brother with suspicion, trying to discover if he was truly confused or pulling his leg, squeaked, immediately recognizing the gleam that appeared in his eyes and the predatory turn of his smirk, fastly making his limbs turn around and kicking his legs to run away.

“Nonono! Hero! Think about what you're about to do!!” 

And Kel may be the most athletic of the two, but Hero always was good at reading his movements. While the younger one had the anticipation and stamina on his side, which made him successfully scramble away in wobbly dodges and quick jumps,  the taller ran to put himself in between him and the door, knees bended and arms spread wide, ready to catch any giggling younger one that tried to pass through him in the only true way to escape from his fate.

“You can’t camp at the door! This is against the rules!” Kel jumped on his bed, spinning around to point at him accusingly.

“Is it, now?” Hero blinked in the personification of innocence.

“Yeah!! It is and you know it.”

“I don’t think I remember the rules very well, dear little brother of mine.” Kel groaned at the affectionate nickname and would have let himself fall on the bed and complain about how embarrassing Hero was if it wasn’t for his non-laughing-safety being at stake. “Why don’t you come closer and explain them to me again?”

Kel raspberried at him, not moving a single finger in his direction.

They stared at each other.

Well, Hero internally shrugged. He tried. 

Showtime.

“Oh no!” He hugged his stomach, making a show of groaning and squirming around. “Kel, I was visiting one of your favorite planets and I think something is wrong with me now.”

He had to lower his face and press it on his chest to stop the snickering that bubbled from him when Kel basically shouted that “The planet of infinite tickles is not my favorite!!” so he wouldn’t break his character

“I think I am sick.”

“No, you’re not!”

“Owwww. I am terribly sick, Kel, I don’t think I can fight it any longer.”

“Hero!” Kel tried to not let his smile show on his tune too much, but he wasn’t successful, especially when Hero lifted his head and grinned at him, making a tickly kind of electricity run on his spine. “This is dumb. I am not a kid anymore. I can say that you’re lying.” 

“Sick! So sick. SO so sick. There is nothing we can do now. I am infected with the Need-To-Tickle-Tickle-Tickle-My-Little-Brother-Immediately disease and it’s only getting stronger as the seconds tick by.”

Silence. Kel seemed stuck between laughing in disbelief and groaning at his dramatics. Yet he didn’t step any closer to him. 

“Kel, you need to escape.”

“Then, get AWAY from the door.”

Hm. Maybe Hero would have to jump to plan B.

He pretended to not listen. “You must run away and save your life. I can feel it getting stronger, making my fingers wiggle and asking for your squeaky giggles in my mind.”

As he gave a quick glance upwards, he saw Kel looking at the window with squinted eyes and a thoughtful face, considering. 

No. Definitely not. Time for plan B.

“There is just - urg- only one thing that can save me.” He made a show of pulling something out of his pocket. The chocolate wrapping glinted in the light. “The forbidden banana chocolate that I got for Kel but now it will have to be used for the greater good.”

A gasp.

Kel knew it was a trap. For real, he knew it.

But he also really, really wanted to know why his dad had been obsessed with this chocolate since his early memories. Besides, Hero was distracted with his theatrics. If he tried to zig zag his way to his brother he could get it, he was sure of that. There was a reason he was feared at basketball and it wasn’t only for his deathly aim, but also for how fast he could be when he really wanted.

He could do that. He definitely could do that. Just dash, grab the snack and immediately bolt back to his bed. 

 Easy Peasy.

Hero wouldn't even notice him before it was too late.

He took a deep breath, eyes full of determination. Hero didn’t move, still dangling the chocolate in the air and slowly bringing it closer to his open mouth.

One, two, three and… RUN!

(...)

Today is a great day, Hero thought, as he whistled and sat in front of the TV, grabbing the remote and going back to the part of the film that they lost because of all the shenanigans. 

It was a little bit hard, but with some struggles he managed to not be hit in the face by a kick.

Today was a really good day.

“Hero!!! Hero you can’t do this with your own brother! Hero!!”

The sun was already setting and that let a dance of orange, yellow and red fill the room. Such beautiful and calm scenery. 

The taller one adjusted the bundle in his arms, eyes still glued on the screen, a satisfied smile grazing his mouth.

Peace.

“We can watch another movie! The popcorn will get cold and taste horrible and munchy and wither and then you’ll have to make another bowl and- No! Hero!”

One of the older's hands was lifted, his fingers clawing the air and chasing the squirming torso with a skill and tranquility of someone who played the same game a handful of times before and would keep playing it for plenty of times more.

He attacked.

Kel squealed, laughter immediately spilling freely from his lips as the wiggly, playful hands squeezed his sides non stop, fingers spidering and teasing the skin for a few seconds before chasing the lovely high pitched snickers that always appeared when Hero wormed his hands under his torso and tickled the base of his spine, prodding and poking his way to there and going back to attack his sides every time the younger tried to wiggle away.

As the clawing hands got bored, their curious fingers began hiking the sinuous patch to his armpits - being careful to scratch on each one of his ribs in the way, of course. What kind of a brother would he be if he denied their necessary dose of tickles? - which automatically made Kel titter non stop and his arms trash and skip around, in failed attempts to push such an unfair, horrible, tickly and silly attack away. 

However, everytime he tried to do that it was only to have the skittering fingers jumping away to dance on his belly, making his hands get out of the way and go back to clamping on his mouth to hide the traitor snorts away. This was the same technique Hero did everytime he tickled him and the fact that it still worked even after all those years only made his reactions grow stronger and giggli-er. Hero chuckled, starting, once again, the whole cycle of climbing and going back and then clawing up, up, up, getting higher every time the loop was repeated.

Uncontrollable laughter, tittering squeals, loud squeaks and high pitched yelps stumbled in the room in flocks and waves, stumbling right out of his mouth and spreading a funny kind of warmth all across his face and chest. A warmth that fought with the creeping cold that clued in his bones since the beginning of the day and scared away with a giddy, electric kind of energy the exhaustion on his moves, replacing them with kicks, wiggles and plentiful of squirms that always got him almost tumbling out of the lap and the trap he was in only for Hero to playful complain something about “running away from their brotherly quality time” and pull him right back at his previous blushy and giggly predicament.

And Kel remembered why this was one of his favorite movies. Because there wasn’t any Cosmic Boy without Hero, and there wasn’t any Hero without fun, without the sensation that he wasn’t alone, of a hand extended in his direction and attentive eyes that found and smiled at him on his quietest days. There wasn’t a Hero without the certainty that there wasn’t anything in this world that he couldn’t fix make it better by just being embarrassingly charming or a dork or an annoying older brother that would still try to get him to play his favorite game even if Kel was complaining about being too old and being insufferable the whole way.

So, Kel couldn’t really bring himself, even between his crackles because Hero kept focusing on this horrible, awful, terrific, unfair spot right in the middle of his ribcage and nononono! That is too ticklish! Very, very ticklish!! Get away, gehet away, stohohohop- , to mind the whole playful and honestly childish attack. 

That was when Hero got to his armpits, positioned his thumbs on the sensitive flesh and began drumming.

The resulting screeching was so loud that it made their windows shake.

Nevermind. Forget everything Kel said before, his older brother was evil and mean and this is the most horrible game to ever exist.

“Oh my god, I forgot how bad your armpits were.” Hero’s chuckles evolved to wheezes as he stopped his tickle attack to try to gather himself together and not fall in peals of laughter after such a loud reaction. 

Kel was still squirming, rolling from one side to another in an attempt to dislodge the offending hands out of his armpits and body instinctively jumping away when his own movements made the fingers graze and tickle the spot unintentionally, even if they stopped moving a few seconds ago. Yet, the knowledge that they were still there and that they could attack at any moment made tiny, buzzy shocks run across his torso and tickle his nerves and smile. 

Tears gathered on the corner of his eyes while airy chuckles intertwined freely with his protesting squeaky, fast laughter.

“Let me gohohoho!” But, his sentences couldn’t summon a single drop of true irritation or heat to fill them, especially when accompanied by such a gigantic, tittering grin and half hearted pushes. “Shuhuhut up!”

“Sorry, sohohorry! I swear I didn’t mean to laugh.” Hero said, laughing. “But your face was just-”

And he fell in a sea of sniggers again.

A sudden idea made Kel’s eyes sparkle and a teasy tune take over the corners of his smirk.

“Yeah? Bet it wasn’t as funny as this!”

And then his hands flew to Hero's sides, kneading there like there was no tomorrow.

Hero, in his turn, gasped in surprise at the feeling, his laughter getting stronger and quieter as the taller one tried to become a defensive ball, only to have his plans ruined by the younger boy laying still on his lap, his entire torso shaking with the force of his snickers and crackles.

"See? Pretty funny, huh? You can't even stop laughing!" 

Hero shook his head, the tip of his ears getting red.

"No?" Kel began crawling his hands downwards on the sensitive flesh until… there it was! Hero's head shot backwards, hiccups and snorts falling freely when Kel focused on delivering pinches on the hip bones with joy. "For someone who doesn't think this is funny, I think you're laughing a lot, huh, don't you think, Hero? Huh? Huh? Don't you think that this is funnyyyy~"

With an enormous force Hero managed to pull a whole sentence between his laughter. "I-I was supposed to snrk- to be the one cheering you uP!"

"And it's working!! Look how much happy I am for WINNING this fight and obliterating you with tickles right now! Ha!" Kel shouted triumphantly, letting the hips go in order to tease the unprotected neck of his brother.

However, he miscalculated Hero's stamina, and such a mistake couldn’t be left forgotten as two hands glued on his wrists with a firm grip and pulled them away. Shiny brown eyes found his.

"Oops." Suddenly, Kel’s voice got a much wobblier tune.

"W-winning the tickle fight, you say?" The way Hero's smile - even between breathless gasps and tiny hiccups - got shark-like made every siren scream in alert inside the younger's brain. "Lehehet me assist you, then."

"No! Wait!" But the other did not, in fact, wait, pulling the arms until they were pinned above his head, palms facing upwards. "Hero, I am already cheered up! I promise!"

“I don’t think so, Kel.” Hero positioned one of his hands on the other’s wrist, the tip of his fingers scratching the skin with soft and unbearable scribbles that made goosebumps run across his arms. Then, because Hero was an unfair meanie with no heart, he began walking the playful, tickly digits to the inside of his forearm. “Besides, the planet of the snickering elbows came all the way from the other side of the universe just to see you.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Planets can’t get people!!” Kel tried with all his will to pull his trembling ticklish arms from their torment only to feel a series of squeaky giggles climb up his throat, obliging him to concentrate all his efforts in not combusting in a mess of titters and giggles. 

“Do you think so? Because I think that the planet of the snickering elbows is getting closer and closer to someone’s very ticklish and very snickery arms…”

“I-I-I am nohot” He gave up, letting the uncontrollable and high pitched snickers wash them as his squirms grew stronger with all the giddiness filling his muscles and shooting like electricity across his nerves. “Tihihihihihicklish!! I am not ticklish!”

Hero’s expression got amused. “You’re not ticklish?”

His fingers focused in teasing and dancing happily on every inch inside his elbow, blunt nails creating and senseless doodles with every scribble and a couple or two of soft pinches that never failed to make the younger’s laughter get even higher and faster.

And still, Kel stubbornly shook his head. “Ihihi am not!”

“So, all these hilarious tickly-tickles aren’t affecting you at all?” Kel just continued to shake his head vehemently, laughing and smiling like nothing else mattered in his life, wrinkles on the corner of his eyes and nose scrunched up. “Not even a little bit? A silly-billy bit? A coochie coochie coo?” 

Kel’s kicks were renewed, the words falling between his lips being too much lost in between titters and squeals to be understood. If this was a protest against Hero’s embarrassing teases or the fact that his fingers were slowly and carefully crawling across his upperarms to his armpits was impossible to say.

Being the good, lovely brother who cared about his little bro’s wellbeing above everything else, Hero decided to keep doing both.

“Great!” Digging under his arms, Hero had to elevate his voice so he could be heard above the hysteric crackles of Kel. “Because the game just started. Do you know who else came to pay a visit to their favorite giggly boy? The planet of the hilarious beetroots…~”

Hands suddenly free, Kel only had a second before he felt his feet being held in a headlock. “And they would loooove to play This Little Pig with you again!”

And, of course, Kel should know that, in the position that he was, maybe it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to provoke the tickle monster that he called brother anymore.

But, the movie was still playing in the background, and soon enough they would be getting to the middle of it, which means that they probably would have to rewind all the way back to the beginning to watch it properly. And Hero had those dangerously joyful shine in his eyes that he hadn’t seen for a long time and Kel felt it would be a long time until he would be able to stop the chuckles and giggles that played run and catch in the room.

So, yeah, maybe if he stayed quiet, they would just go back to the game and soon everything would be over.

But he wasn’t much of the whole ‘being a quiet guy’ now, was he?

“Yohou’re sohohoho pfffft- hehe stupid!”

Hero’s smirk got wider.

And then, once again, he attacked.

(...)

“Hey, Hero?”

His brother hummed from his desk, showing that he was paying attention. It was night but the younger knew his brother would still pull one or two hours of study before following his lead and going to sleep. The lights of the room were still on but that was fine, Kel never had problems to fall asleep with them anyway. Especially after such an eventful day. He could already feel his eyelids droping close as he adjusted his blanket.

“Do you think that one day I will be as good as you?”

He didn’t look up, but by the sound of their old, badly lubricated office chair being moved, he knew that Hero was now staring at him.

This time, he waited in silence, not filling it with whatever word came to rest on the tip of his tongue.

Hero’s voice was soft as it floated in the night. “I think that I would be a very lucky guy… if someday I got to be half as cool as you.”

Kel snorted.

“Still,” he continued, “we’re both doing a good job at being just ourselves, don’t you think? It wouldn’t be very interesting if we just became like each other or you became like me. Your basketball group would certainly start a mutiny, and the fabric of orange joe would go bankrupt.”

“But… more than anything” and then Kel looked up, because that was Hero’s emotional voice and he could count in the fingers of one hand the moments he got like that (most of them weren’t good ones). “I would miss you a lot, Kel.” 

Ah.

Kel smiled and it soon evolved to a fun kind of chuckle.

“Heh. Thank you, Hero. You’re not going to start crying over me, are you?”

“Maybe.”

“Old man.”

“Old and taller than you.~”

A calm sort of silence poured in gentle drops over them.

Kel took a deep breath.

“I got a C on my test today.”

“Really?” Hero’s frown quickly eased when he saw the conflicted gaze in his brother’s face. “And how was it?”

“I tried very hard and it was biology! I love biology. And it was not even a bad grade! I could have gotten a D or even a F and failed the subject.” As quick as it came, his irritation went away, body too light and too sleepy to cling to it for too long, anyway. “I got more than half of the questions right.”

“That is great.” Hero replied, sincerely, not having a single idea of how that only sentence washed over the younger one like a breeze of relief. “Hey, when your tests are all over, we should have some ice cream to celebrate, what do you think?”

Happier, Kel could already feel the dream realm reclaiming him, so, before he fell asleep, a quick, glad answer was pushed from his mouth.

“Yeah. We totally should.”

For a second, he could almost hear a fond sigh and a faint “good night”.

The day hadn’t started great, but Kel couldn’t really deny that last sentence.

This was a good night. Indeed.

[sisterdivinium]

At long last, the unholy trinity is together.

I don't care about statistics but I care about aesthetics and it is VERY satisfying to me to see that these three are now together in the stats page, lol, I've been waiting a while for it and now it happened.

[styxpenz]

fulfilling 10 year old mes dream (writing proper self insert fic)

[squeakheart]

we added a doc q fic to our slate of planned x reader fics!! epic win for disabled top nation 🧡