#i wish i had more to contribute my brain just will not let me <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[mushiewrites]

Wake up brain bestie 🥳

So I was reminiscing with a cousin about our field of screams trip last year and I remembered how the scare actors have real chainsaws without the chain on them so when they touch you with it it just vibrates (it vibrates a fuck ton, I've experienced it more than once, you can feel it in like your whole body) I went to bed and got reminded of that scene in TCM where Letherface hangs Morgan from a chandelier (I think) and cuts him in half. Which lead to the dream sequence of Sapnap making Dream help him build a haunted house because he's tall and Dream obviously hating every second so at some point, Sapnap wraps his hands in rope (or something) and hooks his hands on a beam or hook which dangles him to the point where he can only slightly get one toe on the floor. He then gets the chainsaw, makes a show of revving it up in the dark before just pressing the vibrating machinery against his tummy and watching him go berserk from every spot being attacked from the inside

as someone who has also experienced the feeling of the chainsaw thing without the chain.......I will be saying absolutely nothing :D

but....this is such a good idea for dream....

okay. the idea of dream just…..dangling from a beam, not being able to stand on both feet. just….teetering back and forth and thrashing and kicking while sapnap torments him with that thing is………something

and he’d be howling too, oh my goodness. one tap to his tummy and he’d be done. it would be over for him!!!! he wouldn’t know what to do. he’d be lost in a world of tickly hell and sapnap would be loving every second of power he had

………but also. dream is huge. sapnap is strong, but as soon as dream gains his strength back, you know who’s gonna be hanging from that thing next 😇

[mazeinthemiroh]

third impressions.

Genre: Crack, slight angst??, romance

Word Count: 2.4k

Requested?: Yes

Synopsis: Bangchan is introduced to a new choreography, who he makes a horrible first and second impression on. Is there any way he can recover?

Warnings: Cursing, comical violence/slapstick??, Minho being his iconic self

A/N: This was very fun to write indeed. This is my first Chan fic! Can you believe it?? My bias and I've only just written a fic about him?? Don't worry, there will plenty more to come. And umm, yeah, that's about all I have to say to you guys. I hope you all enjoy, please let me know what you think <3

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

As a natural planner, Bangchan had never planned or expected things to go oh so terribly wrong.

A few comebacks under the teams' belt had Stray Kids bubbly and excited for the next. As their leader, Chan did well to make sure everyone had their input and contribution to the comeback. There was a lot to prepare for, but that was okay. He had done this plenty of times. Writing lyrics, producing, coming up with the theme of the album, singing the parts, organising the choreo, etc. There was so much to think about. And he did it every time, without fail.

Only this time was different.

"Has everyone gotten a hang of the choreo?"

Your voice echoed off the walls of the practice room after you had gone through the choreography for Stray Kids' new title track.

It was clear that Chan looked at you with interest. He was intrigued by you. Why had Minho brought you to them? It was usually the same choreographers each and every comeback. And here you were, a newbie. It felt kind of off to him. He would of at least wanted to meet you first but now it felt like a confrontation. Making your acquaintance was a goal for him; being the leader meant that building rapport was important.

The members could sense that Chan's brain was going haywire because he was very quiet. It wasn't that anything was wrong. Things just felt like they had fallen out of the same usual routine, and Chan didn't like that.

"How about we take a break?" You said cheerfully, sensing there was some sort of tension, but you couldn't pinpoint who it came from.

The members went to drink some water and stretched their muscles carefully.

Minho splashed water on his face and wiped it over his skin with his palms. He then looked over to Chan, whose eyebrows furrowed with thought.

"What's up with you then?" Minho poked at his side, "don't like the new choreography."

"It's not the choreography" Chan muttered, shaking his head. "It's the choreographer."

"What's wrong with Y/N?" Minho felt slightly defensive, "hey I only choose the best of the best for our team, so if you have a problem then you need to deal with it yourself."

"It's not that," Chan gulped down his water, "I just wished you'd introduced me to them before. I feel like it's awkward without getting to meet someone and work with them closely."

Minho grinned slightly. "Ahh, that's right. You're all politeness." He took another swig of water before sliding the cap on, doing an elegant bottle flip in one swift movement and landing it perfectly. "Go talk to them, then."

"What, now?" Chan exhaled a chuckle and looked at his friend, whose eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"Go for it. Say your hellos and whatnot. It gives us a longer break, at least," Minho placed a hand on Chan's back and pushed him towards your direction.

Chan watched you from the other side of the room. You were alone, and he didn't feel that was fair. You were like their special guest, after all. So, after taking a deep breath, he did as Minho said, walking over to you casually.

"Uh, hey," were his first words. He immediately cursed himself. Did he sound dumb? Gosh, why was he overthinking everything?

"Hey," you smiled at him, fiddling with the water bottle in your hands.

"I'm Chan by the way, nice to meet you" he extended a hand for you to shake. Why was he being so formal and rigid? Where was the carefree Chan gone?

You laughed at this, sensing his nervousness. "I know who you are. Nice to meet you though. Officially, at least."

He chuckled at this, gazing at the floor. Why did his cheeks feel warm? And gosh, he couldn't stop smiling, dimples on full display.

"Are you okay with the choreo or did you come over here to tell me you hate it?" You teased playfully, drinking some water for yourself.

"No no nooo no no I like the choreo it's very good very dynamic and.. yeah."

Wow, such a way with words. Chan scolded himself internally.

"Really?" You quirked an eyebrow up. He didn't sound very convincing. "Because you were messing up quite a bit back there," you said gently, hoping he would appreciate your honesty.

"Oh gosh, really?" Chan's heart dropped a bit, discouraged. "Where did I go wrong? Was it the bridge part? I feel like it was then. The footwork there is very quick and it's hard for my body to move like that, I think it'll take some getting used to-"

"Hey don't worry about it," you shook your head and reached out, placing a hand on his forearm to soothe him, "we've only gone through it a couple of times and we've got so much more practice time ahead it's really nothing to worry about."

Chan felt electric shocks spike through him when your skin slid in his. Suddenly he felt a bit dizzy as more warmth rushed to his head.

"Thanks," was all he could let out, looking deep into your eyes. He couldn't believe he could even hold eye contact with you for that long before he tore his eyes away and cleared his throat.

"I should, uh, probably stretch more" he gestured behind him before shuffling away after you withdraw your hand from him.

You licked your dry lips as you watched him stretch his body again. You sincerely hoped you hadn't upset him with what you said.

Chan lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. The blue and pink lights attached to the wall pulsed like a heartbeat, illuminating his neat, dark room.

It wasn't like Chan to have a crush so quickly. Gosh, he didn't even know you. But the way he acted today... it could only mean one thing. Chan had the feels, indeed. And they weren't going away anytime soon.

He couldn't let the immense awkwardness of today show in tomorrow's practice session, oh no. That would be mortifying.

He needed to loosen up. He needed to just be himself and have a fresh start with you. First impressions weren't everything, and you seemed like the agreeable type, not one to judge so quickly. Chan had a chance, right?

Hope swelled up in his heart. Tomorrow is another day. Let's make it count.

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8"

You watched the group work through their routine. It was coming along nicely. They were such quick learners, being quite deep into the game. It was amazing to see their progress since yesterday's session. You watched on with pride.

Each member had learned their individual parts and came together as a group, like pieces of a puzzle, to fit one whole routine that would be sure to make fans fall for them all over again.

The song conclude and they all held their ending poses. There were a few tweaks to be made here and there, but otherwise, you had very little complaints. They truly were amazing.

"Well done everyone," you applauded them and they all did the same, breathing heavily and smiling at one another. "Very clean work, guys. Very good."

Jisung slipped to the floor and Hyunjin followed, spreading himself out like a starfish as they panted. They still started a conversation and ended up chatting away like they usually would.

"There's just a couple of little things. Uh, Jeongin" you gestured for the youngest member to come over near you. "Your dancing is super clean and all your moves are on point. Right before the last chorus ends I want you to make sure you keep your footwork as tight as possible, like this," you demonstrated and he followed on, mimicking your feet. "That's it, perfect. If you remember to do that then the whole routine comes together."

Jeongin nodded along to your feedback and smiled lightly, thanking you for your help.

"And Chan," you tip-toed your way over to the leader, who had just caught his breath, "this is just me nit-picking but-"

You made his way over to him as he watched you with interest. You circled around him and caught his hand in yours.

"When you spin around at the start, extend your arm more and roll out your hand. Feel the music run through your arm up all the way into your hands, like a wave."

He nodded as he watched you extend his arm with your hands.

"Maybe give it a try now?"

And so he did, going through the steps before the big spin. And when he spun, his arm extended bluntly and in a rough manner, and as you saw this, a hand came flying your way and collided with your face.

"Oh shit!"

The other members who weren't paying attention at the time turned around to see what had happened. Felix and Minho glided over to you in concern.

You held the side of your head and held back the tears that gathered at the bottom of your eyes.

"I'm okay it's absolutely fine don't worry," you said loudly to Chan trying to reassure him so wouldn't have a meltdown. But he was panicking.

"Are you okay?" Felix placed a hand on your lower back and tried to comfort you the best he could whilst Minho went to get a staff member.

Soon you were sent to a separate room. You were given an ice pack to put in your face, which seemed to numb the pain a bit. The other members left you alone as they didn't want to disturb your peace and wanted you to rest.

Chan was freaking out in the practice room.

"Well, I didn't think you were going hit them, not gonna lie" Minho joked to Chan who had a guilt-stricken look on his face.

"I'm going to hell" Chan rubbed his temples "I fucking hit them in the face. Of course, I did. That's what any normal human being would do."

He paced backwards and forwards and breathed heavily. The other members began to be affected by this.

"Wait... so you meant to hit them in the face?"

Jisung asked, clearly confused. He was only half aware of what was going on at the time.

"Of course I didn't I was being sarcastic!" Chan exclaimed before going back to pacing.

"Chan, this is a perfect situation for you" Minho commented, settling down on the floor, cross-legged, a satisfied smile on his face as an idea formed in his head.

Chan stopped walking up and down and looked at his friend like he was an alien.

"How on earth is this a 'perfect' situation?"

"Well, if I have to spell it out for you..." Minho trailed off teasingly before getting back to the point, "you can use this as a good opportunity to have a good laugh. Make a joke out of it. Be your charming self and woo them over."

"'Woo them over'" Hyunjin snorted at Minho's phrasing, finding it hilarious.

"Do you wanna be punched in the face too?" Minho turned to Hyunjin who immediately shut up.

Chan couldn't believe he was actually considering Minho's crazy idea. I mean, really, what had he got to lose now?

You heard a gentle knock at the door, already sensing the presence of guilt from the other side.

"Come in~" you chimed in a sing-song voice.

The door revealed, as expected, Bangchan. He had a stiff, awkward smile that lay on his features as he settled down in a seat next to you, closing the door behind him as you did so.

"I... didn't realise you'd fall for me that quickly."

You erupted in a fit of laughter at his cheesy pick-up line, taken aback by his joke. Suddenly, all of his nerves seemed to disappear all at once. Your laughter was music to his eyes, quite literally.

"That was smooth" you commented with a grin, eyes sparkling as you stared over at him. You loved the way his shoulders lowered a bit more, becoming more relaxed as he sensed your cheery mood.

"How are you?" He winced slightly as he asked the question, hoping you weren't in too much pain.

"I'm fine, Chan, really" you reassured him.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N" he bit his lip nervously. You didn't want to mood to lower any more than it needed to be.

"Don't be sorry, it wasn't even entirely your fault" you shrugged. "I stood way too close to you when you were trying to do the move. It was more my fault than anything."

Chan shook his head, wanting to take responsibility. But you were right. You were standing really close to him. And by the time he realised that, he then came to realise how close you were to each other now, here, in a small room with no one else around.

He cleared his throat and grinned slightly, his heart fluttering in his chest.

"Well, that's very sweet of you to say," Chan's eyes glittered as he dove right back into yours. You lowered the ice pack you had held up to your head all this time, staring intensely into his eyes. You felt dizzy, and you didn't know whether it was the ache in your head or the ache in your heart this man made you feel.

The was a moment of silence, but it wasn't awkwardness. Rather, the room was filled with thick tension as you both remained eye contact, leaning closer and closer and closer.

Until your lips collided, rougher than Chan would've liked for someone he had just accidentally hit. But hey, if you liked it rough, he was going for it. Your lips moved in perfect synchronisation with his, finding a rhythm almost immediately as you began to explore each other's mouths.

It was like choreography, this kiss; a dance of passion and tension and everything in between, improvised and executed in the most perfect way possible.

Chan slipped a hand on your thigh as you reached for his hair, weaving your fingers through his hair as you groaned into the kiss slightly.

That's when you both pulled away slowly, looking intensely into each other's eyes. A smile played on both of your lips, mischief and passion sparkling through your veins as you both caught your breath.

First impressions were overrated. Second impressions, too. As it turns out, it was the third impression that counted the most.

Chan seemed to find that out in the best way possible.

tags: @hanstan127, @iamgodandthisismyreality, @cutiepiebangchan, @hakunamatatayah, @strawberrysandwitch

[frownyalfred]

hi res,, im a huge, huge fan of your fics and i've been scrolling through your tumblr for the last hours/day while falling in and out of a weird stomach pain that is totally ruining my winter break! i also don't really know how tumblr works but i had to express my love for you, I feel so much better reading your stuff 😍 your tumblr posts are also amazing, thank you so so much for all your contributions to this fandom AND to ao3/fandom culture in general!! (wow that was a lot of exclamation marks, i swear i know how to end a sentence with other punctuation 😃 namely emojis 😃😃)

I had a question about your opinions on some ships, IF YOU'RE AMENABLE, feel free to ignore; i know you're a super busy person and this is going to be a long message, I'm overwhelmed looking at it myself 😅

Firstly, shipping the batkids together??? I've seen a few fics like that, especially the robins (e.g. dick/jason, jason/tim??) but I generally avoid them bc they make me feel uncomfy personally, even if they're not characterized as brothers/sisters in that particular fic - cuz i cant kid myself into thinking that i'll ever see them as anything but siblings 🥹

then there's also the stephanie/tim thing?? my understanding of stephanie's dynamic in the batfamily is limited since i got into the dc fandom mainly through fic, but i'm under the impression that some canons have that, and stephanie is not totally considered part of the batfamily (as in bruce's daughter). while other times it's tim/kon, and I'm very supportive of the increasing inclusion of queer representation in the "dc canon", but i guess it's just that the batkids all feel like children, like babies even 🥺🥺

yea so that was a pretty long winded explanation for a quick question😭 my bad

and finally, my otp, ghostbat 🥹🥰 i've never really seen you post anything about them, it is definitely a much rarer ship, but i'd love to know your opinion 💙 i would absolutely recommend taking a look into it if you haven't already, their dynamic is so unique (imo) and heart-wrenching! i havent found that much content about them, so if there are any suggestions for content for them, i will take literally anything 🥺

yeah so thanks for looking through all of this mess, i love you and your beautiful brain so much, sending positive vibes and well wishes your way <3

Hi anon! Thank you so much, and sorry you're not feeling well. Some quick answers to your questions below:

People do ship the batkids together, in a variety of related/not related scenarios. It's not everyone's cup of tea. Some people like it. Some people get very squicked by it. All reactions are valid. I am a big proponent of ship and let ship -- people are going to write what they're going to write. If you don't like to read that, hit the back button. Like you said, you have already identified that you don't like it, and now you avoid it. That's awesome!

Tim/Steph vs Tim/Kon can also be a touchy subject in fandom. Steph's inclusion in the batfamily depends on the fanon and/or canon. People have strong opinions about this. My reaction is always, teens have relationships. Messy relationships. Tim and Steph and Tim and Kon can all happen and it doesn't make anyone more or less deserving of love or a relationship. They're kids figuring themselves out -- it makes sense that it's messy.

I like ghostbat! I will admit I'm not as familiar with the ship as I could be. I mostly consume secondhand info here on tumblr. @allgremlinart's blog is a great place to start if you haven't already.

Hope that helps! Feel better soon, anon.

[chrisevansonly]

Waves

Chris Evans x Female Reader

Summary: After a long few weeks, your anxiety had built up which only contributed to your lack of sleep, so when you try and get some much needed rest, your brain doesn’t help and sends you into a panic 

Warnings: anxiety, talks of mental health, insomnia, soft ending

A/N: I wrote this for my sweet bean @chrisevansdaughter I did change it a little since I usually don’t write Chris fics with a younger sibling, I tried to make it as comforting as possible so I hope this helps. I am always here to talk to anyone whenever you need, I want to provide a safe space for you to seek a friend or just some comfort! <3

Word Count: 849

The past few weeks had been absolute hell, from working piling up, your mental health taking a decline due to the cloudy grey days that January brought with it, you were exhausted, physically, and emotionally. You’d never had an easy time sleeping, but now it was even worse due to the constant battle your brain gave you every day, it’s almost comical how you hadn’t been able to catch a break for a while. I guess that’s why you opted to bury yourself in blankets on the couch in yours and Chris’s living room, calling off work for the next two weeks in an attempt to get a hold of yourself. 

The fire was on under the TV and a few reruns of your favourite show were on which helped to give you some level of comfort as your anxiety picked up. The more you watched he TV, and the warmer your body got, you felt yourself start to drift off. You desperately needed sleep, but having nightmares often followed the rest you begged for, so after fighting it for a little bit, you eventually fell asleep. 

All you could hear was constant screaming and loud noises as you looked around frantically, it was like you were paralyzed in your nightmare and couldn’t move. It must have been a few hours of sleep you’d managed to get before you shot up, gasping for air, a pair of hands finding your cheeks and holding you steady 

“Hey, hey, hey…breathe honey…it’s okay, I’m here”

“I-I..s-so loud”

Chris looked at you with concern as tears started to fall down your cheeks, his thumbs catching some of them as they fell 

“You’re okay, you’re safe…did you have another nightmare?”

You nodded your head, hands moving to hold his wrists almost as if to check if he was really right in front of you, closing your eyes to take a few deep breaths, Chris sending gentle praise your way until you opened your eyes again to look at him

“It was the same one…I just wanted to s-sleep, and i’m so tired”

He nodded listening to you as you spoke 

“I even called off work for two weeks because they w-won’t give me a break, I just need a break Chris”

Chris could feel his heartbreak seeing his girl so exhausted, the sound of pure burnout evident in her voice, wishing he could snap his fingers and make everything better, so for now he opted to get up onto the couch and cuddle in beside you, bringing you to his chest and letting you lay your tired body against his

“Okay sweet girl, tell you what, the next two weeks we’re gonna spend some time just you and me, we’ll figure out how to help you sleep easier, maybe take a trip with Dodger up to the cabin for a few days to get away from the city? Whatever you need to feel better, I’ll support and help you in any way I can”

Before you could answer, Dodger had shown up obviously hearing his name, and took his place on the couch, opting to lay on your lap, the pressure helping to ease some of the anxiety you still felt 

“Hi bub…you heard your name huh?”

The pup looked at you with his big brown eyes as you rubbed a hand over the fur on his head, no doubt sensing your discomfort and wanting to help in any way he could 

“I like the sound of that…I think just spending time the three of us will help”

Chris pressed a few kisses to your temple while his arms tightened around you, adding another layer of safety for your mind that had now begun to quiet down 

“Alright, so you let me figure everything out, and I’ll take care of it all, we’re gonna get you feeling better in no time, I love you, I hope you know that, and I am so proud of you”

Blinking back another round of tears you lifted your head away from his chest to place a kiss on his lips

“I love you too, always, thanks for taking such good care of me…”

He smiled tucking you back against him and pulling the blankets up over your shoulder, Dodger moving to get more comfortable too

“I will always do whatever I can to help you feel your best, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how high the waves get, I will always be here to help you through it.”

For the first time in a few days, you were able to feel nothing but the calm and quiet your boys and home brought you. It was going to be a long road of getting you the support and help you needed, but Chris was going to be there every step of the way. He wouldn’t leave you stranded, and he sure as hell wouldn’t leave you to face these challenges alone. As long as he had you in his arms, he’d do his absolute best to keep you safe, and protected…and Dodger would too.

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Oughhhhhh its like 2 am but im getting so fucking madddddd, I just saw someone be like "dont get me wrong, I love atla and I think Zuka is a great charater but I really think people with low media literacy really took away the wrong thing away from him" and I got kinda excited because I definitely think that about Zuko and him being held up as this great pinnacle of redemption arc writing but I feel like people rarely ever talk about it, but then the post went on and they were like "and by people with low media literacy I mean people creating cartoons nowadays, and by took the wrong thing away from him I mean theyre just giving everyone a redemption arc even though they didnt eeeeeeeaaaaarnnnnnn iiiiiittttt" and then the first thing in their tags was them complaining about steven universe and it made me so mad I didnt even finish reading the tags, I just blocked them. it was very lily orchard-esque if Im being honest

And like, okay, first of all, I think when people talk about Atla making redemption arcs more popular or "trendy", as Im sure this person would reductively say, I think theyre fundamentally misdiagnosing the issue. Atla didnt make redemption arcs popular in kids shows because it was a popular kids show and had a redemption arc in it, atla contributed to serialized kids media becoming more popular where redemption arcs are more common because idk, its just an obvious thing to write when you can write a continously flowing story where there are consequences and where characters can change, rather than having to reset everything at the end of an episode like with episodic shows. I feel like asking "why are there so many redemption arcs in serialized kids shows?" is like asking "why are so many prestige dramas about amoral assholes doing fucked up shit?" because its compelling, next question

Seriously though, while I as an adult like redemptions arcs in general as a tool for teaching kids about different perspectives and that people arent born evil and that life isnt just black and white, I can tell you now, kids dont watch kids shows to learn stuff, they watch them to have fun and drama is fun to most kids and redemption arcs are dramatic, so theyre showing up in kids shows a lot

So thats on redemption arcs in general, now lets talk about my issues with Zuko specifically, or rather, my issues with his arc being held up as the pinnacle of redemption arc writing. This is actually something that the original poster Im talking about mentioned as a positive, but Zuko isnt really a villain; hes an antagonist, but every season contrasts him against a Bigger Bad (Zhao, Azula, Ozai), Im pretty sure hes portrayed as atleast somewhat sympathetic as early as episode 3 of season 1 (although its been a while since ive seen the show so dont quote me on that), and he doesnt really have a lot to atone for because while he did believe in all the fire nation propaganda because thats what he was raised with, he clearly never liked doing what he was doing and didnt really want to do it. Like, all of his villainous actions have this air of being coerced somehow, which is fine, Zuko's arc isnt bad by any means, its a good character arc, but it is really annoying how it made people think that the only characters that its acceptable to redeem are good people who were manipulated, when I find redemption arcs about actual villains who actually did bad stuff of their own volition a lot more compelling.

It think it stems from a fundamental (and very christian) misunderstand of what redemption even is but this post is already very long and its almost 4 am now and my brain is turning into mush, so I'll save that for another time.

Tldr: Zuko's arc is an example of a good character arc, but I wouldnt say its an example of a good redemption arc because I dont feel that he was really that bad or was ever really portrayed as that bad, and I wish people would stop holding it up as the pinnacle of villain redemption arcs when its really more of a well-meaning guy who doesnt really know any better and is in a pretty tough spot rn that makes him do bad stuff redemption arc

[marnz]

I watched tsn last year because my memory suddenly remember that i used to see photos and gifs of it in 2016 and i read someone blog analyzing the relationship of mark and eduardo (in 2016) but didn't know it was a fb film, so i decided to watch it, to be honest my brain is pretty damage from working corporate job and seeing how nasty capitalism is, so my first thought watching it wasn't really wow gay, eduardo was in love!!! but was more like wow mark is such a jerk, i didn't see anything gay that people were screaming about 🙃 and being reminded that this is zuckerberg and his old friend irl did not help, and i also read the story of what actually happened irl and understand how eduardo was also a jerk too so i just jumped into ao3 to read fanfic, i actually wish i watched it during highschool or college time more because i truly can't consume queerbait series or films that aren't obvious anymore, normal queer film/tv series is fine tho. This is just my own experience i'm sure there are many tsn new fans who watched it and also enjoy how "gay" it is like you guys in 2010 too :) i just have damaged brain i think

oh no friend I’m so sorry about your job! Let’s get you a better one. I don’t think your reaction is wrong at all, like I said, it was a different time and you had to be there. I got into it in college and exited the fandom in the mid 2010s; I would never in my life get into it now. I think you are right…it’s 2024.

However I have been thinking about this since I got your message and I also think the constant analysis and the fanfic contributed pretty heavily to the atmosphere, plus like I said the Andrew Garfield of it all. Honestly I think the fandom boils down to a couple things:

1) the film has homoerotic subtext mostly evidenced by Eduardo. There’s a lot of time spent on Eduardo’s feelings about Mark, like even during the bathroom blowjob scene the camera takes a moment to remind us that Eduardo is thinking about Mark in the next stall. There is almost no time spent on Mark’s feelings about Eduardo. So this subtext is like, there are feelings and they are unreciprocated. Isn’t this so tragic when 0.03% happens? Mark certainly talks a lot about his feelings for Eduardo, but words do not matter. Action matters. Contrast this with a more classic queerbait like Sterek where 1) there was queerbaiting market and 2) there was reciprocal homoerotic subtext that could never be acted upon.

2) I don’t think fandom is super good at dealing with an unlikeable or unsympathetic yet compelling protagonist! Which means this protagonist is rendered much more sympathetically in fic and people watch or read the media source with rose colored glasses. “He would not fucking say that” x1000.

3) I’m not that much older than you I think but…there was this period in tv where there were canon gays who were as interesting and dynamic as a pool noodle and, meanwhile, in subtext and/or queerbait land, there were relationships that consistently got a lot of time and attention and so were sooooooo compelling. And those are the relationships that I, and fandom, tend to gravitate towards. Plus growing up there weren’t a ton of happy gay stories so instead it was like, you have Brokeback Mountain, you have Dead Poets Society, you have What Happened to Lani Granger? You have, for some reason, Glee (boring except for faberry and Santana). Thank god we are not there anymore.

4) I have bad taste <3

Anyway sorry for rambling here, your asks got me thinking because it very much was like hmm well yeah it IS completely inexplicable huh but I think a lot of fandom is like that.

[away-ward]

hi, i’ve always been too shy to comment or send asks before but i’m making this my first bc i wanted to let you know how much i appreciate your work! i read your hell yeah fanfic a couple of months ago & when i stumbled upon it again recently & found a whole master list worth of fanfics added, i was super ecstatic & read all of them in one go hahaha

my personal favourites are reality & arrival <3 reality bc their conversation in the carfax room was so in line w their characters, it just re-emphasised how much i wish we got more of willemmy outside of blackchurch. having a scene like that in nightfall would’ve really grounded them as a couple in the present. all the snippets from the first three books plus the high school chapters of willemmy were such good buildup only to have the willalexaydin bs instead 🤧 anyways, i have a soft spot for arrival too. to have the damon & indie dynamic play out like that makes so much sense! damon & will already have such a strong & unique bond so for will, of all his friends, to have the first girl in the group would definitely make their relationship extra special.

on a side note, your post abt aydin being a few years older than canon made me lose my shit btw since i completely agree 😩 whenever i’m in my devil’s night brain rot, i always pictured him like 6 years older especially w how penelope douglas was trying to portray aydin & emory together. oh & your timeline for the character’s ages made me happy! it never occurred to me for will to be the oldest of the horsemen (which i’ve seen a few ppl comment on). given his may birthdate, i just assumed he was born the following year after michael, kai, & damon were. i mean, it makes sense right?? he’s the baby of the four. i could be wrong but then that would mean damon is the youngest which i refuse to imagine for some reason given all the shit he’s been up to 💀

this post is getting longer than i expected & i could probably continue rambling on but i just wanted to thank you again for your contribution 🙏🏽 this fandom has practically a drought in fan fiction unless it’s for second gen but seeing as kaibanks & willemmy (my biases) were done dirty in the series, your account has truly been such a gem to follow.

It’s nice to hear from you!! I’ve definitely been on the fence about whether to reach out to someone or not but I’m so happy that you decided to leave this message. It really made my day.

I feel that ‘reality’ is the closest I’ve ever come to getting Em and Will right. I also a snuck in a few references that are dear to me, so it’s special in my eyes, despite its needed edits. It was originally a request, so I can’t take all the credit for it, but I’m just so I’m happy that it’s one of your favs.

And ‘arrival’ has been a personal HC of mine for a long time. It took me a while to get out onto a page, so it’s great to hear that it’s struck home with others too.

A lot of my fics are borne out of that ‘we didn’t get to see this in the book but we should have’ and ‘what would have happened if…?’ feeling. Having had the chance to speak to other fans, I know I’m not alone in that, so it’s nice that so many people are finding my fics...fulfilling? I know other writers could do better, but until then, I’m happy to be around to fill a void.

Ahhh! The aydin age thing! Thank you! Anytime Aydin’s age is brought up in NF I’m like, ‘no you’re lying. You’re, like, 32/33.” But nope. He’s 26???? smh. Missed opportunity. It could have done so much for his character to just age him up a bit.

Regarding the timeline…as much as I would have loved for Will to the oldest…I think he is the baby. For clarification, I think Michael, Kai, and Damon were born in 1994 and Will in 1995. I didn’t want to give actual years in the post because I think the vibe that PD was going for was a timeless/infinite ‘this could be taking place at any point in time’. except for the points where they put in things that would date the books, the years and timing were purposefully left vague. I didn’t want to take that away by giving concrete dates. But I stayed up til an ungodly hour on a work night, going over this stupid timeline with a friend who has never read the series because trying to untangle it in my head was driving me absolutely nuts. So I had to record it somewhere.

In the chart, they all start the school year the same age* and then end the school year the same age, but within that nine months, it goes Michael, Kai, Damon all before Devil’s Night on October 30th, the new year, and finally Will in May.

That being said, at one point we did get stuck on whether Will was actually the oldest and I loved what it did for his character too. If at some point, he got held back a grade, it would go to why he’s a bit insecure, feels like he’s the dumbest in the group, and doesn’t trust himself to act on his own. I kinda wish Will had some sort of learning disability like dyslexia or ADHD because I think it would contribute to his lack of interest in school and strengthen his addiction storyline. None of that is canon and I don’t HC that it is. I just kinda wish it was there…

But according to my calculations, Will is the baby of the group, and of his family. That, along with his privilege, can also explain why he is the why he is.

Also Damon being the youngest would be hilarious and I wish it were so.

No worries, I as a wordy rambler myself, I appreciate everything you had to say. Feel free to drop by any time. I talk way too much, but it’s nice to get this devil’s night brain rot, as you so accurately termed, out to others who understand.

Thank you so much for your message and have a great day!

*well, if the school year starts in August, which some places in the US do. Others start in September, in which case, Michael will already be the next age up at the start of the year.

[corrose]

3, 24 (any), 45, 50?

Oooh ty for the ask! I honestly forgot I queued up that fic writers ask post and was like ??? but here we go!

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

Overuse of ‘just’ 

Introspection & pining but the POV character doesn’t know they’re doing either 

overlong luxe descriptions of landscape and interior design (more kindly stated as environmental storytelling maybe) 

It should be at least slightly funny. I want people to laugh. 

24. Are there any easter eggs in [insert fic], and if so, what are they?

Ough good question… but I don't think I have any fun answers for any of my current fics. I wish I were clever enough to insert easter eggs into my writing, but my brain partitions fandom content into specific little boxes that don’t have much interaction between each other

I DO have one Liufang fic that will probably remain unpublished where Sun Jing and Qiu Tong from Tamen de Gushi (她们的故事) have cameos as Bai Zhan and Qian Cao disciples! 

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic?

This is going to sound very funny, but. I have gotten better about sharing my writing lol. Not at autorial things that actually matter, like pacing, or analysis, or rising falling action whatever! I have gotten better at sharing my writing :) 

I write a LOT and I share very little. Mostly because I write solely for an audience of one (1) (me). Most of what I’ve written has never been read by anyone besides me, and probably won’t ever have any kind of audience except for me. And I’m totally okay with that!  

Case in point: 

Moshang WIP word count to date: 192k (excluding 33k of my forays into Bingqiu and Liushang) 

Moshang Published word count: 117k 

Not bad, actually! (honestly I thought I'd written more lol) Now let’s take a look at my older fandoms 

Eyeshield 21 WIP word count: 602k 

ES21 Published word count: 14k  

LMAO WHAT. I am covering my face with one hand. No comment. 

Homestuck WIP word count: 150k 

Homestuck Published word count: 0 

LOL. again, no comment. 

The more I feel like I need to make my own food, the more I tend to write (by god ES21 i am looking at you with wet and pathetic eyes…) and I only publish if I feel like i have something good to contribute. I suffer from an overbearing need for perfection (self-perceived) so if it doesn’t pass my own vibe check/exactingly high standards, I won’t publish it. This means that there are tons of shorter minifics, character interactions, drabbles, AUs etc that simply languish in my docs bc I guess my internal metric for ‘contributes to fandom’ is longfic. I got a little better at sharing my writing with Moshang, mostly because I liked what I had written so much and at the time, it didn’t feel like anyone had done exactly what I wanted to see. Haha perhaps it was only my ego that got bigger, and not my writing skills? :')

ANYWAYS. I would like to try and use my brain more when engaging with things and creating instead of just devouring something and then smashing whatever is in my brains directly onto a doc and being like OOOO WOW!!!! COOL FIC!! I LOVE IT!! MWAH (all themes, motifs, and analysis fly directly over my head and escape like a flock of birds) but also my brainspace is so small and crammed so full of whatever the OTP of the era is that it’s quite difficult for me :’) 

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

I am going to use this to answer #46! 

46. Do you prefer writing on your phone or on a computer (or something else)? Do you think where you write affects the way you write?

I write almost exclusively on my phone lmao. Lying in bed in the dark, on my phone, on gdocs! 

I edit exclusively on the computer, so any writing that needs to be added at this stage is on the laptop. This is the most grueling part of writing for me and makes me gnash my teeth so much. Editing is so hard and so time consuming and spurs the perfectionist in me like someone kicking a horse into gallop lmao.  

If i didn't write on my phone, i wouldn’t get any writing done, I think. This is also part of why chapter updates take so long. Always bottlenecked at the editing point!

Thank you for the asks!!! Why was this such a long answer lmao

[wierdaesthetic]

Smashbility and explanation for each one for COD men. (hate dni)

Starting of strong but basic. Ghost.

I meann. Do I even have to explane myself... (yes Raven, yes you do) Okay then. Well he is a 10/10 top to bottom. (YES INCLUDING HIS VOICE ACTOR) which contributes but not limits his canon face. Smash 100% no doubt, he seems cold and might ghost me(haha) and might regret it but shit I already fucked some questionable men, one more wont hurt, actually he better do. (HAHA RAVEN YOU ARE SO FUNNY) 2. Konig

See, now this is where it actually gets questionable, would I fuck him for the fun of it yeah sure, do I consider him atractive thoo? I mean again yeah sure but he is not my favour of man. I mean he is tall yes but too tall for me 6'10?? What am I going to do with all of that? And he has a high pitch austrian accent, mhm I dont know how I feel. 8/10. Again I am trying to describe it but lets leave it at that cause I have 0 hours of sleep and my brain is functioning just from being high. Smash but this type I thing I would be the one not hit him back. 3. Soap

GURL STAWP YOU MAKING ME BLUSH. When it come to the MW francase, he is my favourite. I wish he had tattoos but that about it. What more could I want? He has "my typical ex" haircut, he would manipulate me and I would even realise it from my delusions. 100/10. He is the hottest of the crew. 4. Gaz

When it comes to black guys. Howf, he is the ideal man. And I realised that today like literrally I was mindlessly scrolling/stalking a cod editing account and he popped up. Like damn keep some for the rest of us. Instant panty drop of a man. I would gluck gluck 1000 him to death. 15/10 Instant smash from me. I am way to high to type any longer pt2 in a few hours

[moonlitceleste]

marinette dupain-cheng’s guide to picking up cute guys

A/N: Chez Vous is real in the DC universe; it’s described as a restaurant but I decided to use it as the name of the café because I didn’t want to come up with one myself. It translates to “at your house,” which basically implies “make yourself at home.”

thanks to @ramos123 for being my beta reader! <3

ao3

“Bet.”

Marinette slapped a crisp 20-dollar bill onto the wooden table with enough force to slosh around the brown liquid in the cup sitting before Alya’s smirking face.

Chez Vous was the name of the café they had been sitting in for the past fifteen minutes. The place had a nice ambience, the quiet chatter of customers and aromatic smells combining to make what was an unusually cozy atmosphere considering the location.

Gotham wasn’t exactly known for being hospitable, but she supposed the fact that it was clearly fashioned after Parisian cafés contributed to the homey feel. It vaguely reminded her of her parents’ bakery as well, so it certainly lived up to its name.

Perhaps it was this sense of familiarity that had her and Alya reminiscing on how far they’d come. It hadn’t been that long since lycée or université—the two were only 22 and 23, respectively—but recalling the good times they’d shared was always fun to do.

Of course, their friendship had momentary blips (ahem, Lila), but the two had managed to sort out their problems eventually. Now that Alya had become more attuned to Marinette’s boundaries and there were no pressing superhero secrets to keep, they knew how to both ground and challenge each other in positive ways. Which was exactly what had caused Marinette to get herself into this situation.

While chattering about their lycée days, Alya poked fun at her once again for what had transpired on the day of the Animan akuma. How could she ever forget that while secretly masquerading as a superhero and locking her best friends in an empty gorilla habitat together, she had somehow helped them end up in a relationship? And now the two were engaged.

This topic somehow lead to Adrien and the stupid puns he spewed both in superhero and civilian form. Alya was insistent that Marinette was charmed by them at some point, to which she replied, No way! They were horrible. Even I could do better.

It was with twinkling eyes that her best friend asked “Bet?” and well, Marinette was never one to back down from a challenge. So after pulling out some spare cash from her purse and setting it down in front of Alya, she raised a brow.

A wicked smirk grew on her best friend’s face, and any lesser person would have faltered, but Marinette was prepared for anything that could possibly be thrown at her.

“Fine. If you’re so confident, I dare you to use a pick-up line on… him.”

As if on cue, the bell at the top of the glass-paneled wooden door jingled, and Marinette followed Alya’s pointed finger right on time to see a very attractive man walk through.

He had a confident stride, but not an arrogant one—his aura was one of someone who was assured and knew exactly what they were capable of.

Despite his seemingly laid-back disposition, she didn’t fail to notice how his eyes darted around the room cautiously, the same habit she had gotten used to doing after she had been given the Ladybug Miraculous. Then again, this was Gotham, so being on constant guard was only natural.

One thumb was hooked in the pocket of his jeans while the other moved up to ruffle his hair, and wow did he have nice hair.

It was perfectly coiffed, and if she didn’t have experience with hairstyling due to her career she would’ve thought it was as effortless as it looked. Most models would kill for the natural luster his locks seemed to have, and even from a distance she could tell that anyone who decided to run their fingers through his hair would be met with softness.

And she didn’t even want to get started on his face. From his glowing skin to his strong jaw and pretty eyes, she refused to believe someone so attractive could be real. It was unfair, really.

“...inette? Marinette? You good there, girl?”

A snap in front of her face broke Marinette out of her stupor, and she offered an instinctual yelp in response.

“What?”

Alya’s eyes twinkled knowingly, and Marinette shifted anxiously in her seat.

“You sure you weren’t checking him out?”

“Alya!”

Said girl let out a mischievous cackle at her hissed response.

“Now get over there!” she said, waving her hands around in a shooing motion.

Marinette glanced over to the line, where the man was no doubt giving the barista his order.

From what she could tell he was just about done, and she watched as he shuffled through his wallet to hand the barista a bill. But rather than proceed normally as most client-worker interactions would, his payment was met with wide eyes and flailing hands.

Marinette was much too far to discern what was being said, but from context clues she could deduct that he had just handed the barista quite a sizable amount. She had already guessed he was well-off from simply observing the quality of his clothes, but this was near confirmation.

It wasn’t as if status or wealth mattered much to her, but she did have a tendency to be wary of higher-class people due to past experiences with them. Being around them really wasn’t as pleasant as it seemed.

Her musing was interrupted when the man suddenly moved, relocating to the waiting line. There was her chance.

Marinette pushed herself out of her seat, steeling herself and lifting her chin high. This was no biggie. All she had to do was somehow convince this gorgeous man to give her his number by making a crappy pick-up line and a pun on the spot. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before, but this felt different, probably because it was a total stranger she was about to attempt it on.

She felt Alya’s gaze trailing after her with each step, and Marinette reminded herself that she absolutely had to succeed or she would never hear the end of it.

The closer she got, however, the more her confidence died. Apparently she had made a major miscalculation while gauging her probability of success, because she hadn’t accounted for the brain spasm she was currently having. Why, oh why did he have to be so cute?

Marinette had the sinking feeling that she was about to majorly embarrass herself, but she was determined to win. Screw embarrassment—she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. All the trouble she had gotten into with Alix and Kim as kids had prepared her for this very moment. Nothing mattered besides victory.

So she sauntered up confidently, stopping right in front of her target.

“Hey, you must be Batman’s sidekick.”

“What?”

The man’s head snapped towards her, and Marinette didn’t fail to notice the subtle defensive stance he took. Years of hero experience had made her more perceptive towards these things—it was part of the job, after all. She filed the information away in the back of her mind, making a mental note to dissect all that later. Her priority was winning the bet—and oh, right, she still had to finish that pick-up line.

“...because you’re Robin my heart.”

The quip was accompanied by an uncharacteristically roguish smile, à la Chat Noir. She’d give herself a solid 10/10 points on delivery.

Her target seemed to agree with the verdict, because after a split second of shocked silence, he burst into full-bodied laughter.

The instantaneous shift in demeanor nearly caught her off-guard, but she was too occupied by the bright smile on his face and his melodic chuckle to notice. It was light and carefree, and she couldn’t help but crack a small smile as a result.

The only problem was that the laughter didn’t end, though, and she felt her face heat up more as the seconds ticked by.

Oh, Kwami.

Marinette buried her face into her hands with a soft groan, wishing the ground could just open up and swallow her whole.

She knew it wasn’t the greatest pick-up line ever, but she didn’t think her attempt warranted that much amusement.

The laugher ceased abruptly, and she peeked through her fingers in time to see the man quickly sober up.

“Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you!”

A pause.

“Okay, not exactly. I just—wow, that was a great pick-up line.”

She slowly lowered her hands, though she kept her head down to peer at him through her lashes.

“Did it work?”

He chuckled and offered her a bright smile that made her blush like a high schooler with a massive crush.

“Yeah, you can tell your friend over there that you won your bet.”

If it was even possible, she turned redder.

“What? How…”

At the mention of Alya, Marinette sent a quick glance to their café table only to find that she was doing absolutely nothing to hide her rapt attention. She quickly caught on to the fact that they were looking her way and sent a very obvious thumbs-up and wink.

Oh, I am so going to kill her later!

But Marinette’s momentary vexation made way for embarrassment as the gravity of the situation hit her.

“I guess I wasn’t exactly subtle, huh?”

“Yeah,” the handsome stranger shrugged. “You probably could have been more discreet. But I liked it.”

“Okay, that’s the second time you’ve said that, but I have a hard time believing you. You can’t possibly tell me that you actually enjoy puns.”

“So I’m guessing I shouldn’t tell you that meeting you was a fortuitous aster?”

“Aster? As in the opposite of disaster?” she wrinkled her nose.

“You got it!”

Marinette rolled her eyes in exasperation, though the upwards tug at the corner of her lips betrayed her true feelings.

“Careful there, or you’ll be the one Robin my heart.”

She’d never admit to it, but she flushed a tiny bit before straightening up in realization. Hey, she was supposed to be the one doing the wooing here!

But before she could open her mouth to respond, her companion beat her to it.

“Since you’re stealing something so dear to me, I think it’s only fair that I get my thief’s name in exchange.”

He was clever, she had to admit.

“Marinette,” she proffered.

“Dick.”

She blinked in surprise at the seemingly random obscenity before it clicked.

“Oh, that’s your name!”

The words tumbled forward, and once she realized what she had said, Marinette tried to frantically backpedal. Her spilled apologies didn’t seem to be necessary, though, because that mesmerizing laugh came back.

“No, it’s fine, I get that a lot,” he breathed between chuckles.

She brightened immediately, glad she hadn’t offended him or embarrassed herself too much.

“Well, since I’m already taking something from you, may I steal your number as well?”

“Only if I can do the same.”

Her inquiry was met with a grin, and the two exchanged phones to type in their respective numbers. Marinette’s found its way back into her hand shortly after, and moments after she pocketed it the call of “medium espresso and beignets!” broke the quiet ambience.

“Well, that’s my order,” Dick said, words weighted by a silent apology. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a few things I need to take care of. Maybe we can meet up later this week?”

The end of his sentence lilted up in hope, and Marinette found her chest warming with affection.

“I’d like that.”

She bid him goodbye with a smile and a wave and quickly tacked on an “I’ll text you later!” in afterthought.

She’d forever deny squealing giddily as she unceremoniously dragged Alya out from her seat and through the café doors, but the sound didn’t escape Dick’s attention—or his enhanced hearing, courtesy of Bat-Tech.

As he watched her leave with Alya, a smile slowly spread across his face at the thought of seeing her again.

Yeah, he sighed to himself. She’s definitely Robin my heart.

-

PERMANENT TAGLIST *@astoriaandromeda @avengerthewarrior *@bluesimani @enternalempires @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @h1sss @heart-charming @iloontjeboontje @jayjayspixiepop @jalaluvsu @kitsunebell @maskedpainter @moongoddesskiana @nathleigh @no-username2544 @too0bsessedformyowngood @ultimatetornshipper

[messwriting]

Written for The Smut Pile Collab: Western AU | MASTERLIST HERE.

(my saddle’s waiting) ride it

Iwaizumi “Big Guns” Hajime x Female Reader

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Warnings: Being ridiculous in front of your crush. Porn With Plot. Not researched strippers industry. Lowkey exhibitionism. Oral in a public space (bathroom); Cock-blocked Interrupted orgasms; Masturbation/fingering; Fingering  in public (street), then while driving. Driving while fingering? Unsafe driving. Fucking against a door, then a wall. Alcohol and mentions of drugs. Side Tendou/Oikawa. Bit of a teasing, overconfident Iwachan.  A poor excuse of oblivious colleagues to lovers.

Word count: WAY TOO BIG. +11k.

Note: 🤠 Brought by your wicked duo degenerates, Saint Dymphna and me:  LAWBREAKERS MULTIVERSE 🤠 electric bogaloo

You guys know the drill @dymphnasprose​ started this all with their tempting ways! It was the image of Iwaizumi all oiled up,  working in his garage like Channing Tatum that made me cave and do this. Once again, being with Dymph is nothing short of amazing and I LOVE THEM  🥺💕💕

This is wayyyy too ploty for something where I just wanted people to bang, but you guys know how I get with Iwaizumi. I’m not totally happy about how this turned out but honestly I have no time to work on it and it has to be out. You guys will realize I went full myself with Reader’s crush on Iwaizumi in this. Sorry not sorry.

Biiig, huuuuuge thanks to both @vanille--kiss​ and @oneblonded​ for their help in beta-ing this, you guys are incredible.  💕 As always a big thanks to @mixedhell​ who always helps me when I’m troubled <3

Iwa’s song: Pony (of course)

You can also read: MAKKI | MATTSUN 

You check your phone and realize you’re late… again.

You hate, hate, hate morning classes, but if you want to be in time for your internship and still have time to study and, well, live, you’re obligated to accept the first class of the day on a Friday. You hate it, and you hate it even more that it’s how you have to end your week but you’ve made peace with it. 

That doesn’t mean you can actually get there in time, reason why you’re twenty minutes late running with your keys and coffee in one hand while you try to balance both your books and your backpack with the other. And when you push the door with your hip, it makes a loud squeaking noise while opening, ruining both your quiet entry and bringing everyone’s eyes on you, of course, because when have you ever been granted a fucking break, right?

“Sorry!” You murmur while trying your best into making a curt bend, and your professor looks over his glasses to you in a very pointed manner but other than that he  resumes what he was speaking on before.

You know he hates you being late (especially as a repeat offender) but you’re a fairly participative student and you regularly earn one of his top grades, so you think that buys you some slack -- and leverage. You go to your habitual seat by the wall, and try your best not making any other noises while you set everything in their places and, thankfully, a moment later, you’re able to breathe while in your seat, with your open computer and notes ready. You give yourself about twenty seconds to drink a bit of your coffee and check out where in the topic the professor is lecturing about.

“That’s why Iwaizumi-san will be receiving your papers. I’ll be returning to the next week, and in the time being, he’ll be doing the full TA hours. If you have any questions just ask him and remember to schedule appointments before-hand, if possible.” Your professor states something that makes it clear you lost some important announcement at the beginning of the class and your eyes fly to Iwaizumi in response, but the man is just sitting at his normal place, front class, quietly nodding to the professors’ explanation while his big hands fly over his notepad. 

You sigh, wistfully, and take another sip of your coffee while your eyes thread over his form, clad in loose jeans that still seem tight in those amazing thighs of his and a hoodie that doesn’t do much to hide those incredible arms. Iwaizumi isn’t very tall, but he’s still taller than you and his shoulders are broad enough to engulf anything behind him when you stand too close. God, you wished Iwaizumi would do full TA hours on you anytime. He could work you into overtime too, you certainly don’t mind. 

You gulp down the saliva that overflows your mouth with some coffee and leaves another small breath to accompany your thoughts. 

You snicker just a bit and Iwaizumi’s eyes are suddenly on yours and your blood pressure peaks in a second while you choke on your coffee. Your teacher asks if you’re okay and you are obligated to answer yes while trying to shrink into the chair. 

See. Incredible track-record.

You manage to not make a complete clown of yourself during class again and even win over some praise from your professor for your contributions in the debate about ethical issues and patient safety. It’s usual that you and Iwaizumi end up interacting with each other’s input in debates but he was quiet today and when you’ve made an addition to his comment about unhelpful patients and mandatory rest all he did was nod and roll his jaw. As if you know what the fuck that means.

You chalk it up to him stressing over being in full TA hours for the week and when the class ends you stay in your seat while finishing typing some notes before you blink and they’re suddenly lost in your brain. When you look up and start packing your things you realize there’s only you and Iwaizumi left in the class and notice he’s looking directly at you, almost as if he was waiting for it.

You don’t think there’s another man who can look so dashing before ten am and with just a small corner lip smile, but hey, you’re not complaining.

“Hey,” he says a one-word greeting and holds his hand up and your heart leaps before you can manage to send a smile his way. Ah, it’s really unfair how cute he is. 

“Hey Iwa,” you greet back in a fair tone even if you feel a bit hot in the face, “You were unusually quiet today.”

He smirks and his hand clasps his neck for a moment while he scratches his hair. “Aa, just busy.” He hooks his backpack over his shoulder and walks over to you while you’re still packing your books. “You lost the warning, right?” 

“Yeah, late. Something important?”

“Nothing big. It’s the deadline for the midterm article, which you lost the explanation to but here--” He extends you his open notepad and you see the notes and instructions there, scribbled in block letters not very neatly, but fairly organized. You look it over briefly, confirm that is nothing different from the normal and bring your phone to take a picture. 

“Thanks, Iwa. Do you need any help with the TA hours?”

“Nah. It’s all fine. I organized my internship last month to have this week off.”

“Oh, smart,” you say as you swing your backpack over your shoulder and pick up your purse and the single book that couldn’t fit with your laptop in it. Iwaizumi makes you nervous. You’re fairly sure it’s because of the massive fucking crush you have on him. “Well, let me know if you need help.”

“Thanks,” you notice that he stays there looking at you for a second more... And then a few seconds more. 

“Is everything okay?

“You’ve been getting to class late a lot,” his eyes turn wide when he realizes what he just blurted out and the small pink dust atop his cheeks could be the thing that ends up killing you. Your brain gets lost in a chant of CUTECUTECUTE and for a moment you resist the urge to clench your books to your chest. “The professor asked me to see if everything was okay.”

“Oh, ah…” You actually force a bit of laugh out at that, surprised and a bit breathless. Dammit, you monitor two classes and then suddenly being a little bit late becomes a crime. “It’s nothing, actually. I’m just not a morning person. And I hate early classes, but I needed to get this one because of my internship, so I’m struggling with the time.”

Iwaizumi nods and even gives you a short smile while you two start walking alongside one another out of the class. “Ah, you should really fix your sleep schedule. You know the drill, eight hours every night.”

“You mean that impossible thing?” You laugh and thank him when he opens the door for you two to pass. Hot and a gentleman, God really has favorites. “I’m trying, but it’s easier said than done and I’m something of a night owl.”

“Brat. You’re just on your phone until late,” Iwaizumi snickers and you all but gasp, and before you can say anything he’s signaling to the other side you’re going. “I still have classes, see you on the TA hours?”

“Yeah, I have two days of TA next week,” you manage to squeak out without making a fool of yourself after he calls you a brat and even smiles his way despite the way you feel a sudden heat wave over your body.

“Nice. See you then.”

“Bye Iwa.”

You scurry off the other side and when you turn a corner you stop and do something absolutely ridiculous that is an internal scream with your head against the wall. You press your forehead against the cold tile and breathe about two or three times, all while your mind goes into overheat after a small talk with Iwaizumi Hajime, the hottest, most amazing Teacher Assistant this Physical Therapy course must have ever had.  

You hear someone saying your name while you try to recover and when you look to your side your heart sinks to your stomach as your eyes turn into plates. Hajime is looking at you funny, holding out a small paper to you and probably wondering if you’re okay in the head. Of course it’s him. It wouldn’t be you if this didn’t happen. 

“Ahhh, hi again?” You squeeze out in a weird breathless voice and Iwaizumi’s eyes seem to turn a pretty dark shade while his lips spread in a grin.

“You let this fall.” 

Sure, of course, you dumbass did. 

“Are you okay?”

“Thanks, Iwa. I was uhhh just…” You press your lips because your mind is blank and then God decides to cut you some slack with a momentaneous brilliance. “I forgot an important thing was due tonight and yeah, I was just screaming at myself.”

“Anything I can help with?” 

Yes. Marry me. Or just fucking, you’re not picky. 

Your whole face burns and you lower your eyes for a moment because the images assaulting you are just too much. Iwaizumi looks just so good up close, all sharp jawline and hard planes on that spiky jet-black hair and green eyes. Jesus Christ, looking like that should be illegal.

“No, it’s just something for this bachelorette party I have tonight.” God decides to grace you with some more lying skills and you thank them internally. There’s even a smile on your face. 

Iwaizumi nods away with your explanation.

 “Ohh,” He says with a smirk and your heart does a leap. “That’s nice. Give the bride my congrats.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell her.” Then, he extends the paper again and you finally grab it, once again making a fool of yourself to him. “Sorry, thanks for this.” 

Iwaizumi just nods and smiles your way, quickly turning back and leaving after saying goodbye and waving your way. This time you have half a mind to search a bathroom before screaming for real.

-

Honestly, you cannot believe where you are right now. Lawbreakers. The name is written in a pretty calligraphy font in bright fucking neon that simply demands attention in the dark of night. It’s the final stop of the bachelorette party of your good friend to which you are late. From the group text, everyone is at least nicely buzzed and you’ve been laughing with the ridiculous pictures the group of women have been sending you non-stop while calling you a buzzkill. 

As your car pulls into the front of the place, you just can’t help but snort. It’s cheesy, definitely tacky but nice, a use of the western theme that actually plays well. 

Outside there’s a neon cowboy riding a horse and you just… can’t help but be amused. There’s a small line of women waiting even when it’s already late but you walk up front as your friend had told you too, perks of being a member of the VIP entourage of women partying in the allegedly last night for your friend to be free. 

The doorman lets you in quickly and just as you’re passing the threshold a tall, pretty and lean, but built man clad in nothing but a white outfit rolls to your side, offering a flute of sparkling wine from a tray.

“Well, look at that.” The smile he sends you is trained, but charming and you can’t help but smile back. “We truly do have the prettier customers. Can I offer you some champagne? Maybe something stronger?”

You’re just bringing your hand up to say no when you stop, muse about how much catching up you’ll have to do with your friends inside and shrugs. “Well, better get a head start, right?”

“Yes!” He congratulates you, standing too close as he brings you a flute and deposits on your fingers, his hand trailing on your pulse for a moment before he lets go. Then, he throws you another charming smile, the mischief reaching his eyes this time. “That’s a good girl~”

You try to hide the way his charm works by letting your mouth fall in a small laugh, but something tells you he catches that either way. That, you think, is what you call a seasoned pleaser.

“Thank you.” 

Your cheeks are heating the tiny bit as you scurry off the corridor to the club insides, following the loud music and increasingly louder screams.

“Enjoy the show!” The man chuckles behind you and you raise your glass in acknowledgment, hurrying inside to do just that. 

Honestly, it’s not what you were expecting. 

As you pass the wooden saloon doors at the end of the corridor, the sound of screaming surrounds you as physical waves, washing through your body in such a high pitch you stumble in your heels. The energy inside makes you unable to not enjoy yourself automatically, surrounded by tables of women and a few groups of men all completely enthralled on the show that’s already happening inside.

For starters, western decoration aside, you were definitely not expecting to see your friend, the bride-to-be, being grinded on stage. 

The strawberry-blonde male is thrusting against the center of your friend's legs, precise and exciting wave-like motions that clearly are making everyone inside, your friend included, lose their minds. He grinds and holds himself up, moves your friend around as if she’s a doll and humps her behind. It looks so sinful and still in perfect beat with the song and for a second your mind just-- short circuits, hand shooting to your mouth as the laughs tip over loud and hearty. Your friend is burning in embarrassment at the way the man is moving and grinding on her, hands almost locked on her body as if she thinks she can’t move or something will just blow up. 

Then again maybe she’s the one who’ll blow up, being so close to such a fucking hot man. You can definitely see how that would make her blow a fuse, completely not used to this kind of thing. 

You manage to stop laughing at your friend losing it on stage and quickly spot the table, the balloons that have been featured in lots of pictures making themselves seen: bright teal things stating “one dick forever”. Every single one dressed in black and with their current bright plastic cowboy hat. It could be worse; if the place wasn’t so fitting with it’s bright lights and mixed decorations ranging from cowboy neon signs and saddles in place of stools.

By the time you manage to walk over amidst the screaming and join in on the girls fun, the showman has finally let your friend go in prol of fishing another happy bride and she looks every bit completely shaken as you’ve thought.

“Hey, baby, you good?” The slit in her white dress is higher, clearly a side effect of the way the man hiked her legs just so…open, and you chuckle at how she huffs a breath out and let herself fall against the cushions, both parts pent up and mortified. 

Well, you’re already liking the place. 

Then, one of the other bridesmaids presses a full plastic flute of champagne to your hand, calls everyone up to a toast and you let yourself fall back into the festivities. Your friend seems to be having a hard time coming back from the heated grinding session in the middle show, to which she excuses herself from the table and reassures everyone that she’s fine. Still, you pull her on the side, ask her once again if she’s okay, to which she just explains she needs some air.

God, you understand.

You were about to follow her when another bridesmaid pulled you into a hug, happily chatting about how this place was incredible, and trying to fill you in on the fun you missed by being late. Your eyes accompany your friend for a moment, seeing as she walks a bit clumsy but otherwise fine to the corridor that leads to the bathroom. Well, she would be fine.

The current show ends and the lights glow brighter, finally allowing you to check out the place. The Lawbreakers Club is nice and full; filled to the brim with groups of women and men around and apparently yours is not the only bachelorette party taking place in the western-themed strip bar. The waiters are wearing skimpy little clothing, the place decorated as a cross-theme of magic mike and an imitation of a western saloon.

Then, before you can even finish the current drink you have in your hands,  the lights go down once again while the stage is lightened up in bright neon. You’re all close enough and with an amazing stage view to catch when a very tall, very pretty, brunette who welcomed you earlier comes to the middle of the stage. 

The crowd goes immediately wild as the song is lowered to a simple mumble in the background and the man walks slowly to the center stage, open hands and the devastating smile of someone who knows they’re all that and more. 

Bit obnoxious but hey, there’s a literal horde of women screaming for him. You’d say it’s acceptable.

“Well, well, well, look like we have a full house tonight.”

The screaming reignites, sounding even louder since they also come from your own table and you can’t help but laugh. 

“Are you guys ready for the next show?” The crowd screams a resonant yes. “Good. Let us make a lot of noise for two of our best, biggest outlaws around.” As the cheers erupted once again, you can actually hear some names being called, all revolving around names with big, pretty or animals thrown around. 

“Did someone actually scream for Issei Horsecock?” You ask the bridesmaid closer to you and both of you laugh when she says yes. “Oh, wow.”

 “Yes, yes, you know the ones. Now, let’s make our Big Guns flustered with the warm welcome, you know what a big softie he actually is under all that hard, big, brute exterior.” It’s actually enthralling to see Oikawa dealing with the crowd, you can’t help but laugh away at his faces and double meaning. Then he stops, winks at the crowd and goes, “Maybe he just needs a ride. So, ride it, ponies.”

It’s clear the announcement everyone was waiting for, as the crowd loses right there. The lights are once again focused on the stage, dripping low as the music picks up in a sexy beat as two big, broad and athletic men make their ways to the center stage, Oikawa nowhere to be seen anymore.  

You cannot believe your eyes. You blink them once but then become completely unable to tear your vision from the image unfolding in front of you even for a second. The men comes to the front of the stage, holds onto the pole dance and undulates in a sinful, unholy trusting motion that has your mouth watering and he falls backwards with his hand supporting himself as his legs part on the metal pole and he keeps trusting in time with the bass, a honest-to-god mimic of sex that has you swalowing dry and drooling, your body heating up at the simple images that ellicit in your brain. 

He does a twirl in the air, falls in a plank and holds a hand up to hold his cowboy hat all while supporting his body in only one hand. He undulates in thrust motions, twerk his ass in the air before pressing down and takes his hat off his head as a display of strength you never in your mind thought would get you this bothered. 

His jet black hair is short and spiky, mussed by sweat and you immediately licks your lips at the salacious thought of licking it up from his skin. He falls with his back on the floor, start once again to proove just how fucking incredible it would be to ride him and then gets up in one single jump that knocks the air of your lungs. 

You take in all of him as the light catches on his perfect body, wearing nothing more than an open black leather vest with beaten dark jeans and a big, daunting belt buckle and the cowboy hat in his hand. 

And you feel as you have a out of body experience as his face registers in your mind, that mischievous smirk gracing his lips making your whole brain crash into a halt because you recognize that man as no one other than Iwaizumi Hajime, your long-time crush and Teacher Assistant with whom you were just earlier today.

Your eyes are unable to look anywhere but him, completely enthralled by the simplest realization that that single amazing piece of man is actually your long time crush, kind-of-friend and colleague. It feels unreal, impossible, to wrap your head around that piece of information and you’re rendered speechless, mind-blown and enchanted, eyes locked on his glistening muscles, the spanse of his skin on show growing by the minute as he does movements straight out of a wet dream. 

Yours, to be even more specific. 

It’s clear he doesn’t see you with the dimly lit room and the crew of women chanting. You’re sitting dumbfounded, mouth agape and blood reeling enough that your forehead seems like it will explode, but also feeling as if you’re suspended in a haze - as if Iwaizumi’s body undulating on the air as he holds himself on a pole is something of a spell and you’re definitely sucked in by it.

You can pinpoint the exact moment he sees you, as his show’s ending and the lights around the stage start shining once again. It’s painfully clear how Iwaizumi tenses from the realization, his eyes falling wide and curses tipping from his beautiful lips, the top of his cheekbones lighting up as he all but runs from the front of the crowd and in a moment you’re mirroring his embarrassment, face heating at the bizarre situation you’re finding yourself into. 

Your TA is a stripper. And a very good, famous one at that. 

What exactly are you supposed to do with this information?

It’s almost an hour and about three shows later where you’re filling your head pounding by the beat, unable to relax even as delicious men pass through your table and play with your friends. 

You feel tense, paranoid at what exactly has happened and where Iwaizumi may be, stomach turning and unresponsive as you try to sooth it with booze until you give up, rising on unsteady legs. Muscles strained from how long you’ve been sitting still, afraid to look anywhere and be slapped across the room with some other shocking news.

You take a deep breath as you balance yourself once again on your heels and walk to the bathroom for some needed cool-down, latching on the opportunity when another show is already rolling, a hot but unapproachable-looking man with blond hair and streaks on it owning the stage as if it’s his territory.

As you’re turning on the corridor, however, you’re circled by big arms and yanked from the ground, a yelp turning into silence as you take one look around and find dark green eyes boring into yours, a harsh look on Iwaizumi’s face that make you embarrassed at what it does to your guts.

He scurries off with you inside a place that looks like a private room, fairly dark with red lights around and a ominous pole-dance stage in the middle that makes your mind overheat at the images it summons: the man in front of you clad in nothing but a black jeans rolling his hips up into the air as if daring you to take a ride.

Well, shit.

Iwaizumi’s arms leave your sides and you stumble a bit, eyes diverting down as your face burns. You realize he takes that the wrong way when he sounds gruff and pissed. 

“What? Can’t even look at me now?” 

You look up in time to catch his arms crossing around his front. You wish he didn’t do that, as now you have one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen all angry-looking with bulging arms oiled and shining, clad in nothing but removable pants, leather chaps, vest and a black cowboy hat. 

You groan something unintelligible as you lose the ability to speak and Iwaizumi’s expression turns sour, lips pressed so hard it almost seems like he’s pouting, his hard eyes looking anxious and downcast. 

That’s what helps your brain kickstart, completely unable to see Iwaizumi looking remotely sad and acutely aware of how this must be taxing on him.

“Sorry, I-- It’s not you,” You wince as his eyes center on you, unimpressed, “I mean it! It’s just-- I was caught off guard.”

Iwaizumi makes a humming noise and centers his eyes on you as if he’s waiting for you to keep going but your brain is completely blank, staring at him with wide eyes and burning surprise. You have to make a serious effort to avoid letting your eyes wander his frame.

“So,” you start, unable to handle the silence and Iwaizumi groans, pulling his cowboy hat off to thread fingers over his hair in a nervous display that you’re sure he did not mean to be sexy but ends up being anyway. “I’m not sure what to say here.”

“Shit. What are you even doing here?”

“Bachelorette party,” you answer without missing a beat and he all but groans again, as if just remembering is an actual thing that exists- and probably gives him lots of money if tonight was anything to go by. 

The clear display of his anxiety actually helps you get a bit more at ease, and you can’t help but crackle an awkward smile. “So... you work here.”

“Yes,” Hajime brutal honesty shows he’s regaining his composure. “It’s good money if you work well and the hours are flexible.”

Not the only thing that’s flexible. You bite your lips at the thought to stop the words from actually spilling from your lips.

“I take it you're not public about this?”

“As little as I can considering the pictures and social media. The club is kinda famous, too.”

“I noticed.”

The silence stretches for a moment as Iwaizumi looks around nervously, his stance unmoving. You take a deep breath and sigh, lips falling in an odd, astonished smile. “Wow, Iwa, that’s…”

“What?” He bites back, defensive. You just end up chuckling, long breath falling from your lips as you look at him and can’t help but be once again dumbfolded at how fucking perfect this man is.

“Nothing, it’s just-- I would never expect it. It’s amazing, though. You’re amazing.” You wince at your own words and how telling they are, but carry on despite the burning on your face. “You seemed like a completely different person out there.” 

Definitely not the quiet TA you’re used to. Definitely still completely gorgeous.

Your body tenses as your heart does somersaults in your chest, hunger flaring enough that your throat constricts and your face burns once again.

“Don’t you think it's bad?” It comes out a bit strained, his eyes trained on you, tense and vulnerable. And you just about fall deeper for him right there. 

“Why? It’s your work.” You try your best smile, and after a little consideration Hajime’s shoulders finally seem to relax, lips jutting up just a bit as he breathes deep.

“No one in the university can know though,” Iwaizumi says quickly, eyes on yours with a little, tiny smirk. “Obvious reasons.”

That makes you giggle.

“Of course. I’ll keep your secret.” You agree in earnest, honest and clear, and this time when you smile at him, your whole body warms at how his eyes fall down to look at it. 

“Good.” His voice goes down a tone, husky and gruff- and making unspeakable things to your already poor state. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Your heart seems to shoot up to your throat, and you try to squeeze words out around it.

“I… uh… yes, I mean, sure. It was… quite incredible.”

“Really.” Hajime smirks and you try to swallow your heart before you choke. 

His green eyes stare deeply at your face, drinking the burning on your cheeks, the quick beat of your pulse on your throat, the pursed, wet lips and the way you tremble when he all but takes a step closer. You brace yourself, eyes lifting from the ground to center on him and the sticky, hot sensation spreads through your lower limbs at the burning heat you find there.

“Well, there’s another one to be done.” That tone comes again and you’re forced to press your legs just a tiny bit closer, suddenly aware of the fact you’re both alone in a dark room. He takes another step closer and your eyes fall on his lips, smirk starting to split his face in two, “Stick around.”

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out and Hajime’s eyes turn darker. 

"Iwa-channn~'' 

It's so close it sounds loud from across the half-opened door and Iwaizumi seems to fall back on himself, annoyance furrowing his brows. He takes another deep, heated look on you but tears his eyes away before you can’t say anything.

“Sorry, have to go.”

Your breath leaves you in one go. It feels like you just stepped off a rollercoaster, blown off the ground and slow to catch up. 

“Okay, uh, good show?” 

“It will be,” Hajime’s eyes are warm on you. Meaningful. “Watch it all, okay?”

And then he leaves, the brightness from the corridor snapping you from your haze as you suck all the oxygen left in the room and then screams silently against your hands. 

Iwaizumi feels nervous for the first time since the first time he stepped on stage, about two years ago. It feels like he has something to prove and conquer in this single performance and it doesn’t help that Makki comes running late, smelling of sex and sporting marks that tell just of that, too. But for once Hajime decides he has his own stuff to worry rather than the shit his friends pull.

When they step on stage, his eyes zoom-in on you immediately, something spreading on his skin as he finds your attention centered on him - bulging, enthralled eyes and warm appreciation. 

Hajime smirks. They haven’t even started yet.

On cue, Mattsun, Makki, Oikawa and Kyoutani slide on their position and Iwaizumi is delighted that your eyes remain on him. 

When the show starts, among screamings and money being waved, he follows the steps nicely, out of habit. Iwaizumi tilts his hat at you and you burn so bright he feels his skin heating at the newfound power. 

His vest is the first to go off and he makes sure to have his hands running around his chest more than once, teasing slide until the leather chaps as he thrusts his hips, waving motion that covers his whole body. 

He circles, back muscles in the spotlight as his hands come up behind his head, holding the cowboy hat snug in his head, ass tight in the black briefs as he keeps the motions and then turns to fall down on a plank. Iwaizumi grinds down on the floor, blinks and smiles at the ladies but his eyes are only searching for you. 

He gets up with an elaborate move and puts both his hands on the pole, holding himself up sideways before circling it, dropping and incorporating some break dance Kyoutani teached him. 

Hajime’s hand slid easily with the oil on his skin, slowly planting his thumb under the loops of his leather chaps to the sound of screaming. He feels electricity edge through his skin -- someone’s eyes focused solely on him and the thrill of it it’s nothing he’s ever felt before. Suddenly he understands a bit more about how Oikawa feels with Tendou around. 

Iwaizumi thrusts his hips forward once, snaps his belt off in the air with one pull, making the crowd gasp and scream and the itching on his skin turns south. He watches as your eyes follow the hard planes of his abs and the tight squeeze of his thighs on his leather chaps and then snap back into his face. The fact it’s you only makes it all the more exhilarating.

The choreo is once again on the floor, and he drops to it in a wave motion, hips humping on nothing without faltering, tight ass in the air winning cheers and waves; even so, it’s your silent appraisal that rings the louder.

He gets up again, circles the pole in a charming, teasing manner as he holds the metal bar and grinds on it. Iwaizumi lets his hat on the ground and turns his back to the public in time to snap his pants off in one go, at the same time as the other men on stage, staying in nothing but a ridiculously tight, dark, leather brief. 

When he was first presented to the thing, he hated it and opted to go comando into some shows, which earned him some nice money and was always quite the surprise to the patrons. Now, as his eyes lock on yours and your wicked tongue peaks out to lick your plush lips in nothing but appreciation, Iwaizumi is rendered quite fond of the offending thing -- who’d thought this day would come.

Your eyes are glued to him and it almost hurts Iwaizumi that he can’t go straight to you, bring you on stage with him and glide your hands all over his body. He’s unsure of how to proceed but there’s no chance in hell he’s throwing this shot away. 

He’s been crushing on you for far too long to do that. 

In fact, the dumbfounded look on your eyes is quite endearing, much like all the fumbling and tripping over yourself that he got used to expect every time he sees you. Iwaizumi just assumed you were a bit clumsy and quiet, but then he got to know you and it all blew in his face. 

You were a bit of a dumbass but also beautiful, kind, dedicated and attentive. The crush that started as a endearing feeling quickly escalated into opressing and Iwaizumi was all but rendered stupid around you at all times, firm believer that you never truly looked at him like that.

However, as you stare at him unblinking and eager, the picture of hunger in the most delicate predator, Iwaizumi realises he may be wrong and that thought alone is enough to ignite his veins.

 Oikawa fishes a lady, pushes her on Kyoutani then does the same with another for Iwaizumi.

He smiles at her, professional, and brings her hands to his chest, his hips drawing circles against her. As her tentative strokes and fondling turn into frantic holds and clawing nails, his eyes can’t help but slide sideways, taking in the way you’re hanging out of every move of her hands. 

Fuck, Iwaizumi can’t get hard. But there’s a clear throbbing threading south at your concentration. He can’t help but wonder if you’re imagining your hands on his body instead of hers; your hips against his as he grinds on hers; your mouth on his biceps when she kisses his trademarked asset, the ones that gave him his stripper name. 

The woman slides several singles around his briefs, not without copping a few and your mouth falls open in an indignated breath. Iwaizumi tries hard to avoid it going to his dick.

He fishes for another woman in the audience as he lets the groups slide more singles not only on his briefs but inside his boots. Iwaizumi pulls one while she’s sitting in the chair, deposits it on the stage and grinds on her enough that the woman is overheated, hands faltering by her sides. Hajime’s eyes search yours once again, drinking, basking in the envy he pinpoints.

 Does that mean you wish to be under him, like that? To feel his body against yours, his hips between your legs, his lower body shoved on your face? 

Hajime ends his routine with this one halfway, unable to let them feel what you are doing to him and then - finally - he’s free to walk over to your table. Semi-naked, with his boots, hat and slow-rising hard-on.

He’s done this enough times to be able to keep up with the choreo while he’s navigating the tables, hips thrusting and circling, strangers hands sliding on his oiled body to deposit dollars anywhere they can. They’re mostly handsy, few grab his dick and scream, others palm at his thighs and chest. There’s both numbers and dollars being thrown on him but Iwaizumi is used to it - and that’s definitely not his focus tonight.

Iwaizumi stops for a moment at the table before yours. Joining in the fun as Oikawa is happily grinding on his roommate. It gives Hajime a chance to look your way, enough to find you completely enthralled by his body, wide eyes unwavering, mouth open in a breath as your hand fists the flute you’re holding, the perfect depiction of surprise and enchantment and fuck, Iwaizumi is thrilled.

When Hajime finally stops in front of you, you’re looking at him as if under a spell; mouth hanging softly as stars shine in your eyes and he can’t be faulted for fisting your hair, pulling you up to meet his chest, even if he’s careful with where he touches you. 

Iwaizumi pretends his lips gliding against the shell of your ear is not a planned thing.

“You’re looking too hard. Are you enjoying the show that much?”

Your lips move without words falling from it and having you speechless all but set him on fire. Iwaizumi thanks every god (and begrudgingly Oikawa) for his expertise in what he’s about to do. His hand slides on your hips, feeling the way you sway with tremors and stop on your back to support you as he bends you backwards. His mouth skims the skin of your neck and dips lower, so his nose can cross over your cleavage, softly caressing the spanse of your collarbones. 

“If you keep looking at me like that I’ll start thinking things, princess. Interesting things, physical things.” Iwaizumi lets his teeth close on the fabric covering your neckline as his eyes look up on yours to find every hint there can possibly be of your warm desire. “Seems like we’re reaching an agreement, too. Do like what you see, hm? Do you want me to do to you the same things I did with them?” 

“No,” you tell him in a steady tone and Hajime’s eyes shoot up to yours, confused, until you sigh a breath against his face. “I want you to do more.”

He groans, pulling you tighter against his chest for you to feel the effect you have on him, choosing the momentum to circle his hips in what can be disguised as performance despite it being anything but.

“You can’t just tell a guy that. I may believe it.” His hands drop on your ass, gripping as he guides your hips to work with his and you all but melt, blown out eyes falling on his mouth.

“I’m hoping so. I’m pretty much using all my courage to tell you this.” Your breathless chuckle all but obliterates Hajime’s thinking and he has to put some distance between your faces before he takes your lips in a kiss. 

There’s a ringing around his ears and he identifies it as the performance’s end approaching. He has to go back on stage to strip naked and his cock is going to give a show of his own tonight. 

“Go wait for me in the corridor, quick.” It's a plea and a promise as he forces himself to let go of you and turn on his heels to get back on stage.

Oikawa gives him a hand up back onto the stage, eyes all knowing as they survey the whole big thing going on inside his briefs. 

“Nasty, Iwachan~” His smile is a annoying little thing, but then he slaps Iwaizumi’s ass in encouragement, “Sneak off stage before the end, go, quick, I’ll cover.”

Iwaizumi grunts a thanks and as the boys line up one behind the other, he’s able to lock eyes with you and signal with his head before he dips through the backstage drapes.

You’re not sure what’s the plan when Hajime disappears through the back and your spine immediately shoots up, leaving your friends with a half-assed excuse as your legs carry you towards the corridor that leads to the backstage once you choose neither left or right, but only forward. Your eyes are focused, body overheating as your heart gallops in your chest, clinging to the words Iwaizumi whispered in your ears during his show as it repays again and again over your mind’s eye. 

The door to the backstage is signaled with nothing, the only hint of its location being the in and out of men from it as their shows end and they leave the place to either mingle along the audience or enter a private room for privé little shows. Honestly, if it was for Hajime, you’d blow a hole in your wallet for every single second of his time. 

However, as you’re closing in on the hidden door you start growing strikingly aware of the fact you have no idea how to actually meet him there and having to knock on it makes you feel both silly and self conscious.

Luckly, you don’t have to do anything.

Iwaizumi burst the door open in time to fetch you and drag you inside as you let out a little yelp, and suddenly you’re surrounded by the smell of weed, cigars and sweat along with men; Iwaizumi’s hot, sweety skin is sticky against yours and you have the fleeting thought that maybe that would be off putting to you if you didn't have the all consuming need to drop to your knees and lick it all from his fucking skin.

“Iwa,” leaves you lips for no reason, just for the fact it’s his name and you let your neck fall back against his shoulder, turning your head to finally taste his skin. Iwaizumi’s arms tighten around you in such a way you feel the rumble of his growl and he all but tow you deeper inside.

 You can barely get a look around the dimly lit, dirty backstage room before you’re past the messy lounge and into a tight corridor that ends a small, locker-room styled bathroom where Hajime quickly dips inside. 

You get one look at the metal lockers on the side, the two sinks with mirrors upfront and the four bathroom stalls on the left, two on each side before you focus back on Iwaizumi’s jawline, nibbling on whatever you can find and relishing on every little noise that tumbles from his lips. 

Hajime’s arms leave you for one moment, depositing you on unsteady legs so he can turn the lock on the door and by then his hand is burying itself in your hair and closing at your hip, forcefully pulling you to him as his mouth closes around your neck and he proceeds to kiss, bite and suck at every spanse of your skin. 

“Fuck, I didn’t want to do this here,” Iwaizumi starts with a gruff voice that makes your center weep, the force of his hands around you enough to render your feet useless as he strides over to the sink, imediatelly hiking you over it with his big hands over your ass and a hard bite at your shoulder as if he’s pinging you as the culprit of his angish. “But I can’t fucking wait anymore.”

He sounds so pained, so raw, that you can’t help but groan, mouth searching his quickly as your hands reach for his hair and shoulder, nails digging on whatever you find to secure your hold on his slippery skin. He tastes of whisky and weed, but it’s the fact that it’s Hajime that renders you intoxicated.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he admits as his teeth nibble on your bottom lip, a trail of kisses making their way down so he can bite at your neck, licking  it over just so he can suck on it, your eyes rolling back inside your head as your body all but trembles. “I was sure you weren’t interested, fuck.” 

That is probably the one thing that could pull you from the haze settling in your brain caused by the fucking thrill that having Hajime kissing and holding you is enough to cause. 

“Are you insane?” You whine back at him, tilting your head away from his mouth as your fingers pull at his hair to look him in the eyes. Those beautiful, heated and earnest florest-green eyes that have been your demise since day one. “Iwa, there hasn't been a day I wasn’t interested.” 

There’s an edge of surprise on his face, along with a hint of something soft you can’t name and you all but moan at him, unable to form words of just how much you’ve wanted him and for how long. So you choose to show him, instead, legs circling his frame as you press your chest against his and hold his neck with both hands to pull him in a kiss that leaves you lightheaded, toes curling on your heels and heat burning through your veins, melting your insides until it spills on your underwear.

A rumble in his chest tells you about the groan he keeps inside and Iwaizumi’s hands take hold of the flesh of your ass and thighs with bruising strength, violent heartbeats making both of your bodies tremble with need. But then he angles himself back, breaks the kiss and curses after one look at your face.

Next thing you know Iwaizumi’s down on his knees between your thighs, holding you open with big hands under your knees and your brain just ups and fries. Your panties are sticking to your drenched folds and there’s no way the flimsy triangle is able to do much to hide you from Hajime’s attentive eyes. He groans, fingers dipping under the sides of your underwear and he pulls it to the side, baring you the best he can.

He doesn’t really say anything past throwing you a burning look, kissing up the inner part of your thighs, and then he’s mouth is on you - tongue lavishing at both sex and fabric, circling your clit with wondrous expertise and licking along your inner lips like they’re about to spill all your secrets.

“Fuck,” slips from you as your head arches back, hitting the wall. “Iwaizumi...” 

Whispered from you that way, his name is the only thing that conveys all of the feelings bubbling on your chest: the glee of the mutual crush, the excitement of being this close, the massive bliss igniting your nerves at his ministrations. If the way Hajime doubles down on his efforts between your legs is any indication - tongue slipping up and down then back up to circle your clit mercilessly - you’d say he agrees.

You feel suspended in time, tense as a tight coil that’ll tear with a single harsh pull. His tongue dances around your cunt as much as he did on stage: perfectly. Deliriously bringing you to a high you’ve aren’t sure you’ve ever tasted. And then he brings his fingers to calmly, slowly massage around your entrance. 

“Oh fucking christ!” Your burning moan bounces around the empty space loudly and you swear you feel him snickering against your cunt, only you’re way far gone to care. “Haji-fuck!” 

Your hand slides over his hair, fingers delighted at how soft they feel and you use your palm to press his face further against your folds. Your hips humping anything they can because staying still feels like an impossible task with the way your blood is boiling inside your veins. 

But then someone is pounding at the door loudly and your eyes snap open as your high slips from you, Iwaizumi’s lips abandoning your sex to throw a nasty glare at the door. 

“C’mon Iwa-chan~” someone calls outside, sounding unbelievably pleased at the interruption. “You know the rules! We need to use the bathroom~” 

“Two minutes!” Iwa snarl back and as the pounding on the door doesn’t come back, you think he got himself a deal. “Fucking assholes. Can’t give me one fucking moment when they’re the ones always doing this shit.”

He sounds so pissed it’s actually awfully endearing. Red in the face with swollen lips glistening in a pout, and despite the throbbing on your cunt, you can’t help but laugh. His eyes come back to you and a renewed wave of pleasure curls on your pussy by the clear shift into softness you find there, so you pull him back up standing and make a point of kissing him so hard you’re licking your juices from his chin. 

Two minutes apparently go by awfully fast, as the door is nudged once again. Softly, this time. 

“Fuckers,” Iwa mutters after he breaks the kiss, eyes as daggers aimed at whoever is outside the door. “Give me ten minutes and meet me outside?” You realize by the tone of his voice that Iwaizumi is nervous and your heart does a sickening loop inside your chest as if you needed a heads up of how much you’re gone for him. Your face must do something weird, as his eyes scrunch up and his hands grip on your hips with a tiny bit of strength, pleading. “I just need to change and get my stuff, I’ll be real quick, promise.” 

Jesus Christ, didn’t he get it yet?

“Iwaizumi,” His name sounds gruff past your breathless throat and you see the way his eyes turn steely, bracing for heartbreak. “You could tell me to wait forever, and I’d be dying outside waiting for you.”

You make a point of holding his eyes because it feels like it’s important and you’re thankful for that as you can watch the exact moment Iwaizumi lets a long breath out, eyes warming as his lips descend upon yours - one time, then once again; his fingers drawing soft little patterns over your skin.

“I’ll be outside,” you tell him before someone disturbs the moment between you two and he helps you down the sink, your panties choosing this moment to slide to the floor, showing the fact that all that pulling ended up causing a rip. You choke up a gasp and Iwa chuckles, hand sliding to your bare ass to pat at the plush flesh.

“Well, one less thing in the way.”

Getting out of the bathroom and outside the backroom ends up being the most embarrassing thing about it all, as you’re forced to pass through a horde of almost-naked men that throw you all-knowing grins. The pretty man that welcomed you into the Club is the one with the wickedest grin and you can see by Iwaizumi’s grimace alone that he’s in for a hell of teasing. 

If the hand gripping your hip is anything to go by, you’d doubt he’s paying it half a mind. He leaves you at the door, tells the ones around there to shut it as they watch, and breathlessly promises you he’ll come in a bit before closing the door.

Even so you can still hear the immediate hollering going on inside and you chuckle for a moment, until you try to take a step and your legs betray you, shaken. There’s a smile etched to your face that you can barely contain until you’re painfully remembered of the fact you’re dripping between your thighs. That’s all you need for your heart to beat on your face, burning so bright you’re surprised you haven’t melted to the floor.

You’re breathless and antsy as you wait for Iwaizumi to come back, the club visibly emptier after the final performance. Your friends have left already, only waiting around until you came to pick up your purse, all of them tired and drunk and leaving in group after calling enough ubers and making sure you were fine. 

And not without teasing, of course.

God, you were more than fine. But you’re throbbing, uncomfortable wet and empty, increasingly aware of the fact you’re standing there pantiless as the horny fog dissipates a bit in the absence of one Iwaizumi Hajime to end your logic thinking.

You get antsy of waiting around in the bar despite the bartender trying to make nice small-talk and instead trudges over to the corridor, standing there awkwardly fidgeting as if he’s taking hours and not literally a few minutes.

The door opens with an urge and Hajime’s eyes zoom in on you, long strides that only serve to make your body once again acutely aware of it’s poor state, arousal spiking to the point where you press your legs together to help with the feeling. 

But then he’s reaching for you before he’s even really close, and you’re quickly running to him and latching your lips together with urgency. Now that you can kiss him it feels like there’s no point in any other greeting that doesn’t involve his mouth on yours. 

His hair is dripping wet with a recent, clearly quick shower and he’s wearing the same clothes you’re used to see him with day by day and, somehow, that just makes it all worse, a literal groan passing your lips as you reach once again for his lips but this time Iwaizumi stops you with a groan, turning you in his arms so both of you can eagerly trudge out of the Club.

Hajime tries to be mindful of you as he shortens his long strides to be able to accompany yours. You’re balancing yourself to run on heels, laugh bubbling out of your chest at the exhilarating feeling of glee of a mutual crush. Iwaizumi throws you one amused look, sharp smile turning teasing as his hands come to circle your waist, hoist you up and hurry the remaining distance to his car.

“Too slow!” Iwaizumi teases with a grunt and chuckles against your neck, big toothy smile against your skin. “Hurry up!”

“Someone’s eager,” you tease but he’s already rounding his car, pressing you on the side to attach his lips to your neck, soft bites and circling hips that show you just how much that sentence is true.

One of his hands surrounds your neck and his thumb tilts your head up enough for his lips to capture yours, a soft kiss contrasting with the need in his grasp on your hips. 

“I think we’ve waited too long.” 

“Yeah? Who’s fault is that, dumbass?” You nibble on his lips and grind your hips on the impressive burning length that presses on your belly. Iwaizumi chuckles, biting on your neck as his hand slides past your hip to close on your ass. 

“Yours.” 

Your outraged gasp is lost on his lips, passionate kiss blowing your rational thinking with a nuke. Would you ever recover from Iwaizumi Hajime? God, you don’t think so. 

You pull him closer, pressing your chest against him, pressure building once again as your nipples stand to attention. Your leg rakes up on his side as if you’re not on the middle of the street and Iwaizumi lets his hand slide to the underside of your thigh; fingers dipping lower, digits gliding over your drenched slit once before he dips them carefully past the tight ring of your entrance. It’s barely anything, but your mind short-circuits, head falling back against the car.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Iwaizumi sounds anguished, teeth punishing his lips as his eyes bore on yours. His fingers slide deeper inside you and your mouth opens in a silent moan. “I can’t wait to be inside this pussy.”

That ends you, pussy clenching so hard around his barely there fingers it’s painful to feel the remaining emptiness. You puff a hot breath of air on his face, eyes dazed and blood boiling as you tense and throb. 

“Iwa,” Your nails press on his skin so hard your own hand hurts, “if you keep doing this we’ll be doing it in the street.”

Something burns in him, as he presses his fingers deeper inside you to watch your eyes fall close and then pulls them all out, quickly opening the door.  

“Get in.”

You obey, having half a mind to wonder if it’s really happening until he’s closing the door and circling the vehicle. “Iwa!” You plead, as somehow it feels like abandonment, your whole being hurting and boiling, a whine in your lips as Hajime slides in the driver's seat and turns the car on, driving it out the curb and down the street as a madman.

“We’re doing this right,” Hajime tells you as he drives, drinking your panting form from the corner of his eyes. His jeans are tight, hint of what awaits you forming a very clear pattern and you feel overheated, frenzied, throbbing with need. So as it turns out, you’re far past the point to care. 

You adjust yourself in the seat, legs spreading to allow your hand to reach the appex of your sex as the other closes on a clothed breast. “Iwa,” you sigh in bliss as the pressure finally seems to give in just that one tiny bit. His eyes shoot to you and fall comically large at the view, turning hazed in sequence as his cheeks color red.

“God, baby, don’t do this to me,” Iwaizumi grunts, hand adjusting his cock through the jeans as his eyes try to flit between you and the fairly empty streets. 

“I’m not doing anything to you though, I’m doing it to me.” You moan and the car loses balance for a second, sliding to the side and back as you laugh. 

“You’re a fucking menace.”

“Try not to kill us, Iwa.” Is all you answer, moan slipping out at the way you let your fingers alleviate the pressure at your clenching center. Iwaizumi looks as if he’s in pain. One of his hands shoots down to hold on your left thigh, bruising strength delicious.

“You wanna play dirty, huh? That’s what you want?” The tinge of aggression in his voice makes your pussy throb around your fingers and for a moment it feels like he knows. “I can play dirty, baby. I can either make you cum like a good girl or let you hang the whole night like a brat, so what do you want?”

Your voice is nowhere to be found and your eyes are locked on Hajime as if he’s the one who hung the moon and stars. He even has the gal to smirk.

“I can be so good, baby, but I’m even better at being bad.”

You skyrocket shamelessly into a little bout of pleasure, a short-lived thing resembling a climax that’s caused by the whiplash of Hajime’s dominance and the pressure bursting inside you as you abuse your own fingers' expertise. 

You tremble on his side, head thrown back with a moan of his name and Hajime curses loudly, hand at your thigh awkwardly reaching your slit to slide over it and push two fingers inside, catching the last of your short-lived climax. His face turns solemn, eyes darkening with hunger as a vein rises in his jaw and a renewed wave of wetness stains his digits.

Those forest-green eyes settle on you as he speeds down the empty street. “I’m going to end you,” Iwaizumi presses deeper and you arch your body, legs falling wider for him as fingers you effortlessly, driving and stretching you on thick digits that make you gasp on your own breath. 

“This is how it’s going to be.” Hajime starts, voice rough and hot. “Once we’re out of this car and private enough, I’m burying myself inside this pretty pussy in one go.” Your whole breath leaves you in one quick breath, eyes falling open as Hajime’s thumb rounds your clit and a third finger starts pushing inside your walls, burning stretch making you delirious as his words take you apart, one by one. 

“Then, I’m fucking you the whole night until you cant even think about a time where I wasn't inside you,” his fingers curve inside your walls, calling motion and upwards thrust that makes your pleasure sparks through your whole body, one hand closing around his wrist as the other locks on a breast. “Until you feel empty without me inside.”

He pulls his hand back as you all but sob, eyes literally welling with tears at the loss of your quickly rising bliss but one look at Hajime has you sobering up, his focused eyes on the street as he hurries down the rest of the way. 

As it ends up, Iwaizumi stays true to his words. 

He presses you up against the door of his apartment while you two are still on the corridor, brings his hands to your thighs and hikes you up against the door, your dress sliding way past your ass as your bare, throbbing pussy glides over his clothed length. Your whole skin feels like a live-wire, hypersensitive and vibrating.

Hajime’s mouth is closed in a bite on your shoulder as he uses his abilities to open his door without interfering with the sinful way you roll your center against his big cock, needy and lost, pleading for him to just fuck you. 

When it clicks open, both his hands fly to your ass as he pushes past the door and close it with a bang as he presses you against it. His mouth is back on yours, tongue invading your lips with a groan and hand flying to tear his jeans open and down just enough for his big, hard cock spring free.

"Yes!" You break the kiss to cry at the first touch of his weeping, hot cock against your cunt, the sheer amount of wetness making it slide from your hole to your clit and then down again. 

Hajime sucks a breath to still himself, slowly angles his hips back and let the thick head slide to  your entrance with perfect precision, slamming himself half the way inside with one powerful thrust that have his head falling on your shoulder with a blissful groan, your cries of agreement thrown around the air above as you angle your head back.   

Your walls fall open for him brutally, soaking wet and ready but still struggling against the stretch. It burns, his fat cock pulsing inside you and as you clench around his girth you realize he's not even all the way inside. 

"Oh my god," you breathe out and Iwa sighs, fist slamming on the side of the door as he braces himself and rolls his hips, pushing steadily, sheathing his cock inside you slowly. You choke on a breath, suddenly silent, legs kicking out without your brain to rein on it.

"Jesus," Iwa grunts as he bottoms out, his legs trembling from the effort of holding himself back, mind stumbling as every single cell in his body seems overwhelmed by the feeling of reaching paradise. “You feel like heaven.”

Hajime tells you mostly because he wants to feel you clench around him and you do, his heart soaring with the delicious high of knowing exactly what makes you tick; but the throbbing of his cock reminds him just how long he’s been forgotten and Iwaizumi adjusts his stance, locks his arms around you and simply mutters, “Now, to fucking you the whole night.”

You skyrocket quicker than ever, few presses and pulls igniting a supernova bliss in your veins, tongue useless as it feels alien in your mouth, brain short-circuiting at his thrusts. You’ve never felt like this and you’re pretty sure you’ll never would, not without Hajime.

You’re so lost you don’t even realize he moves you from the door to the wall, Hajime’s hands grabbing a handful of your hair to pull you to a blistering kiss, the trimmed hair at the base of his cock doing wonders against your clit every time he bottoms out, nestled inside a place you never even felt before. 

You’re so oversensitive, wound up and tense as your pussy holds him as a vice, grunts falling from his lips that make you skin all but burn at the delicious praise. 

As you squeeze “Hajime” past your mouth in a painful breath, frenzied eyes searching for his,  he soothes you with kisses all over your face. 

“Go ahead, baby.” He tells you with his lips against your skin, “I got you.”

You explode. 

There’s no other way to explain the way your pleasure blows you over, sharpshooter through your veins and short-circuits your brain. It feels like being caught in an ocean wave, unable to swim as it carries you underwater and the tides hold you down, unending twirls that assault you through every side until you’re finally reaching shore, rising above to suck a deep breath.

Hajime is peppering your face with kisses as you settle back inside your skin, blinking hazy eyes to his perfect face with a ridiculous smile that must show just how fucking much you’re smitten. But there’s an edge of something painful on his face.

“Wow.” You breathe and his cock responds inside you with a nod of agreement.

Hajime chuckles, plants a big kiss on your wet lips and tries to smile despite the strain on his face as he calls your name. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” you smile dumbly at him, loose and fuzzy around the edges. “Go ahead. Not sure I’ll be of much use, I think I just had a outer body experience.”

“Hmmm,”  Hajime smirks, tight around the edges with his throbbing cock buried in your pulsing heat. as he seems pensive  “No can’t do, baby.”  He rolls his hips for a moment, lecherous noise echoing around the silent flat, then decides to bring you across the short distance to his couch, letting his ass fall on it graceless, cock pressing deeper with the movement. He drinks the little gasp straight from your lips. 

“I think I’ve earned my turn to sit back and relax.” Hajime smiles, predatory, hungry and you decide you just may love him like this. “So why don’t you do us both a favor and ride it?”

-

[perpetual-stories]

How To Fight Writers Block

hello, hello. hope everyone is doing well. as you can all tell, this post will be about how to fight writers block.

it’s really annoying to me when I hear people say “oh you don’t have writers block, you’re just lazy.”

first of all, yes, I am naturally lazy. second of all, how dare you. writing isn’t as easy as many think. granted, all you have to do is write down words on paper, but it’s not always easy to find the right words to express what you are feeling, or what you wish to say.

I have had terrible writer’s block for the last few days and it’s horrible! as a business owner or a small writing store, I have to be ready to write and fulfill my clients’ ideas and orders.

it’s not easy. It takes a heavy toll on my imagination, and digs me a deep pit of blockage, drowning in the lack of originality because of the constant writing and repetition or certain phrases and sentences in different projects.

i am making this post in the hopes to remind myself about over coming the dreaded and sometimes skeptically believed writer’s block.

What is writer’s block?

Yeah, I know. We all know what that is, but let me define it.

is the state of being unable to proceed with writing, and/or the inability to start writing something new

some people believe it to be a real problem, others believe it's “all in your head”

What Causes Writer’s Block?

in the 1970s, clinical psychologists Jerome Singer and Michael Barrios decided to find out

they concluded that there are four broad causes of writer's block:

Excessively harsh self-criticism

Fear of comparison to other writers

Lack of external motivation, like attention and praise

Lack of internal motivation, like the desire to tell one's story

How to overcome writer's block: 20 tips

1. Develop a writing routine:

Author and artist Twyla Tharp once wrote: “Creativity is a habit, and the best creativity is a result of good work habits.”

it might seem counterintuitive

if you only write when you “feel creative,” you're bound to get stuck in a tar pit of writer's block

The only way to push through is by disciplining yourself to write on a regular schedule. It might be every day, every other day, or just on weekends — but whatever it is, stick to it!

2. Use "imperfect" words:

A writer can spend hours looking for the perfect word or phrase to illustrate a concept

You can avoid this fruitless endeavor by putting, “In other words…” and simply writing what you’re thinking, whether it’s eloquent or not

You can then come back and refine it later by doing a CTRL+F search for “in other words.”

3. Do non-writing activities:

one of the best ways to climb out of a writing funk is to take yourself out of your own work and into someone else’s

Go to an exhibition, to the cinema, to a play, a gig, eat a delicious meal

immerse yourself in great STUFF and get your synapses crackling in a different way

Snippets of conversations, sounds, colors, sensations will creep into the space that once felt empty

4. Freewrite through it:

free-writing involves writing for a pre-set amount of time without pause — and without regard for grammar, spelling, or topic. You just write.

The goal of freewriting is to write without second-guessing yourself — free from doubt, apathy, or self-consciousness, all of which contribute to writer's block. Here’s how:

Find the right surroundings. Go somewhere you won't be disturbed.

Pick your writing utensils. Will you type at your computer, or write with pen and paper? (Tip: if you're prone to hitting the backspace button, you should freewrite the old-fashioned way!)

Settle on a time-limit. Your first time around, set your timer for just 10 minutes to get the feel for it. You can gradually increase this interval as you grow more comfortable with freewriting.

5. Relax on your first draft:

Many writers suffer form perfectionism, which is especially debilitating during a first draft

“Blocks often occur because writers put a lot of pressure on themselves to sound ‘right’ the first time. A good way to loosen up and have fun again in a draft is to give yourself permission to write imperfectly.” — editor Lauren Hughes

perfect is the enemy of good,” so don't agonize about getting it exactly right! You can always go back and edit, maybe even get a second pair of eyes on the manuscript

6. Don’t start at the beginning:

the most intimidating part of writing is the start, when you have a whole empty book to fill with coherent words

instead of starting with the chronological beginning of whatever it is you’re trying to write, dive into middle, or wherever you feel confident

7. Take a shower:

Have you ever noticed that the best ideas tend to arrive while in the shower, or while doing other “mindless” tasks?

research shows that when you’re doing something monotonous (such as showering, walking, or cleaning), your brain goes on autopilot, leaving your unconscious free to wander without logic-driven restrictions

showering is my favourite thing to do if I may add

8. Balance your inner critic:

successful writers have in common is the ability to hear their inner critic, respectfully acknowledge its points, and move forward

You don't need to completely ignore that critical voice, nor should you cower before it

you must establish a respectful, balanced relationship, so you can address what's necessary and skip over what's insecure and irrelevant

9. Switch up your tool:

a change of scenery can really help with writer's block. However, that scenery doesn't have to be your physical location — changing up your writing tool can be just as big a help!

if you’ve been typing on your word processor of choice, try switching to pen and paper. Or if you're just sick of Google Docs, consider using specialized novel writing software.

10. Change your POV:

great advice from editor Lauren Hughes: “When blocked, try to see your story from another perspective ‘in the room’ to help yourself move beyond the block. How might a minor character narrate the scene if they were witnessing it? A ‘fly on the wall’ or another inanimate object?

11. Exercise your creative muscles:

Any skill requires practice if you want to improve, and writing is no different! So if you’re feeling stuck, perhaps it’s time for a strengthening scribble-session to bolster your abilities

12. Map out your story:

If your story has stopped chugging along, help it pick up steam by taking a more structured approach — specifically, by writing an outline

13. Write something else:

Though it's important to try and push through writer's block with what you're actually working on, sometimes it's simply impossible

feel free to push your current piece to the side for now and write something new

14. Work on your characters:

It follows that if your characters are not clearly defined, you’re more likely to run into writer’s block

15. Stop writing for readers:

write for yourself, not your potential readers

this will help you reclaim the joy of being creative and get you back in touch with what matters: the story.

this is something I really need to do. because of my etsy business i don't write for fun anymore, but instead as a business and a deadline. i'm going to have to pull out my old crappy wattled fanfics or write some new ones.

16. Try a more visual process:

when words fail you, forget them and get visual. Create mind maps, drawings, Lego structures — ideally related to your story, but whatever unblocks your mind!

17. Look for the root of it:

writer’s block often comes from a problem deeper than simple “lack of inspiration.” So let's dig deep: why are you really blocked? Ask yourself the following questions:

Do I feel pressure to succeed and/or competition with other writers?

Have I lost sight of what my story is about, or interest in where it's going?

Do I lack confidence in my own abilities, even if I've written plenty before?

Have I not written for so long that I feel intimidated by the mere act?

Am I simply feeling tired and run-down?

once you identify what's wrong, it'll be so much easier to fix.

18. Quit the Internet:

If willpower isn’t your strong suit and your biggest challenge is staying focused, try a site blocker like Freedom or an app like Cold Turkey

19. Let the words find you:

meditate, go for a walk, take that shower

Word Palette is a great app that features a keyboard of random words, allowing you to simply click your way to your next masterpiece.

You can also try AI auto-completers like Talk to Transformer, where you can enter a phrase and let the app “guess what comes next.”

even though they often produce nonsense, it's a great way to help that writer's block.

20. Write like Hemingway:

And if your biggest block is your own self-doubt about your prose, Hemingway offers suggestions to improve your writing as you go

it's a pretty cool app if you ask me.

it highlights your sentences (if need be) and makes suggestions on how to improve them!

well, there you have it! a lengthy post on how to fight writer's block. now i just hope i can combat my own soon.

like, comment and reblog if you find this useful! feel free to reblog in instagram and tag me perpetualstories

Follow me on instagram and tumblr for more writing and grammar tips and more!

[thismaydestroyme]

Little Did I Know

Summary: In this short story Harry is famous, and he moved into a town during the summer to relax and potentially write some new songs for his upcoming album. I’m not sure if I’ll include some song lyrics, but if I do, I will take a piece of a lyric from a different song and pretend it’s his. 

Word Count: 2,272

“Sweetie, can you walk Cosmo?” Y/N hears her mom shouting from downstairs. 

“Yes, mom!” She says.  

Y/N is on her bed with her headphones on due to having a neighbor who’s living across her street who just moved in. For the past weeks there’s been a lot of moving trunks and ruckus because there’s a musician living among them. 

Y/N is a 21 year old girl who wants to be part of the music industry, but she doesn’t know shit. All she knows is that she loves music, and music is part of her. It was her dad that introduced her to music, like music that was before her time. Like Billie Holiday, Frank Sintra, The Rolling Stone, Queen, Otis Redding, Nirvana, The Knack, Elton John, The Doors, The Clash and so many more. That’s all she knew and all she wanted was to find a way to have that without having to know how to play the instruments, knowing how to sing. She simply just wants to go wherever the music takes her. 

She finally drags herself out of bed and starts putting on her sneaker and throwing on an oversized hoodie. She swaps her earbuds to her airpods and off to walk her dog. 

She walks down the stairs heavily which alerts her mother, and before she gets to the last step her mother hands her Cosmo’s leash. 

“Ugh. Couldn't you do - sorry mom.” She reaches for the leash that’s in her mom’s hand. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, darling.” She says giving her daughter a peck on her left cheek. 

Y/N bends over to put the leash on Cosmo’s neck, which Cosmo gives her a lick on her face. Y/N loves this dog of hers. He provides her safety and security, which she needs because let’s just say she has a breakdown every couple of days. 

Y/N stands back up and gives Cosmo a nice tug so he knows he’s ready for his next adventure. By adventure it means walking around the block she’s been doing for the past three years since Y/N got him. 

It’s around 3 o’clock which means the summer heat is hitting hard right about now. But it’s too hot to harm Cosmo in any way. Cosmo is the love of Y/N life. 

Cosmo and Y/N went on their typical route which they go past their new neighbor's house. Y/N realizes the new neighbor door is a jar, and she can smell bacon, which isn’t good for Cosmo because he’ll tend to escape and run towards the delicious smell he knows so much about. To Y/N not so surprise Cosmo started tugging on his leash that has Y/N being yanked and pulled. 

“Cosmo. Stop it right now!” Y/N shouts to Cosmo which she knows that wouldn’t help a damn thing. When he has something in mind there’s no stopping him. Cosmo has to be on something because it’s like he’s on some x game mode. Y/N starts tripping on her own feet and losing her own balance. 

They were running in the middle of streets when they received some honks and screams at fellow drivers on the road. Which Y/N give them a nice finger and simple “fuck off.” Y/N let’s go Cosmo leash because she isn’t in the mood to eat shit, so when she felt safe nothing could happen to Cosmo she let him go.

Cosmo went straight towards the slight jar front door, which I had to pick up my steps. Before Y/N could even be on the same street as the house, the new neighbor came out his house, holding Cosmo’s leash quite aggressively which had Y/N switch her mode to attack mode. 

“Hey, what the fuck? you didn’t have to pull him like that?” Y/N says aggressively while walking towards the house, when she gets in a hand reach, she pulls the leash so the neighbor doesn’t have his grubby hand on the leash. 

Oh you want to know Y/N neighbor? It happily to be Harry Styles. Forgot to include that in, sorry. 

“Are you getting mad at me? your dog happened to be in my house without any guardian. Your dog jumped on my couch, which I’m not too fond of. So anyone here who should be a little bit bitchy, it should be me.” Harry says hostile. He’s wearing a wife beater shirt that has his arms tattoos on display. For his lower part he’s wearing a nice black booty short which shows off that magnificent tiger tattoo. “Are you just going to stand there?” He snaps back. 

Y/N brought her eyes back to him which Y/N doesn’t approve of his tone. Y/N scuffs and rolls her eyes to the back of her head. “Sorry for your inconvenience. Enjoy the rest of your day.” Y/N plants a fake smile on her face. “C’mon Cosmo, let’s go, but this time I'm walking you.“ Y/N whispers to Cosmo while turning around to continue their walk with a small intermission they encountered. After a couple of steps Y/N turned her head around and when she did Harry was still standing there with annoyance on his face, which Y/N turned her head back around. 

“He’s going to be fun.” 

***

It took Y/N twenty minutes to walk her dog today. She wanted Cosmo to enjoy himself which he did because he saw a lot of squirrels today, and on top of that she didn’t want to ‘run’ into Harry again. Y/N should be excited to have a big celebrity living among them, and hopefully she could get reinspired about her future, but unfortunately that isn’t the case. Probably Harry is just having a bad day, and last year and the beginning of this year he had a lot of things going on. He’s officially a grammy winner, he filmed two movies, his latest album Fine Line has been doing phenomenally well, he was the first male to have appeared solo on Vogue magazine,  he was announced Hitmaker of the year, and so many more. So maybe he just needed to get his energy back, which Y/N understood. But man, it really had to be their first impression. 

When Y/N and Cosmo took a turn to walk to their front door, Y/N couldn’t help but to look across the street to see if Harry was there or not. Surprisingly he was, and he’s looking right at her. Y/N looked at his lips while he blew out a smoke. Fuck, he smokes?! 

Y/N doesn’t understand why he’s looking at her, but she doesn’t give a shit because the way he’s looking at her was his way of trying to figure her out. Whatever that fucking means. 

She broke eye contact and flipped her head around to her front door. She starts digging her hand in her pocket to fetch her keys out. Cosmo starts barking because the keys jiggles so he thought it was a new toy. “Oh you hash it.” She got the keys and shove it in the lock. Thank god, her mother didn’t lock the top of the door. 

The door finally releases and Cosmo immediately runs through, probably heading to his water bowl. “Thanks sweetie for walking Cosmo for me.” Y/N hears her mom in the kitchen probably smothering Cosmo. “Yep. I would say anytime, but I would be lying.” She says while walking up the stairs to head to her room. “Fuck off.” Her mother giggles. “I love you too.” That was the last thing Y/N said before she shut her door.

Y/N takes off her beat up vans and soon after plops on her unmade bed. Y/N stared at the few holes on the ceiling due to having a young Leonardo DiCaprio poster on her ceiling when she was younger. Young Leo hits different. 

Y/N couldn’t help it, but her brain went back to her small and rough interaction with Harry. She wished she met him on a  better note, but fuck it. But how could she move on from him? She’s a fan of his music and his viewpoint on the world. He’s a man of few word, but when he does talk, it’s fucking loud and impactful. He’s the main reason she took a few steps back off of social media. She’s barely on it, but when she does go on it, she isn’t on there for long like she used to. 

An hour went by and her mother started knocking on her door and then she came in. “You know mother, the purpose of knocking is to see if you're welcome to enter the space.” Y/N says nonchalantly sitting up to see her mother, but at the same time trying to hold in her laugh. 

“Well, if you want to contribute to paying the bills, I’ll happily reconsider waiting to be called on.” Her mother threw back. “Nope. You’re good.” Y/N says shaking her head. 

“Mmmmhh. Well, I’m going to hang out with the girls from work. Do you want me to make you something before I go?” That’s one thing Y/N loves about her mother, she is so selfless and she always makes sure I’m good before she wants to do something for herself. 

“I’m good. Enjoy your night.” Y/N gave her mom a smile to know she’ll be alright. “If you’re sure, then I’m off,” Her mom says all happily. “If you need anything just text me. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Y/N got up to give her mom a nice, strong hug. “love you.” Y/N whispers. “Love you more beautiful.” We pull back and she’s off to the race. 

Y/N walks to her window to pull the blind. She sometimes likes looking out her window and just stares off into space. Something about watching people live their life comforts her. She loves people watching. 

Y/N found herself mumbling some words, while people watching, but she couldn’t help but stop her little rampage. Y/N feels heavy and she’s unable to even grasp the concept, so when she starts feeling that way she tends to start saying random things. It could be something she could use in the future. To make sure she doesn’t forget she whip out her phone to go to the notes app where she has a folder filled with random words and sentences. There are things in there that could potentially be useful like, “More or less a painful experience. Only ever real if you're delirious. the summer before you,” “I think you're gonna be my biggest fan.” So on and so forth. That’s what the folder is filled with fragments and potentially some song lyrics. 

Y/N tossed her phone to her bed, and left her phone to bother Cosmo downstairs. Y/N loves that sucker. Before Y/N could even smother him with love, he’s currently sleeping on his bed in the corner of the living room. 

Fucking great. 

Y/N just wanted something to do, and her damn dog couldn’t give her that. She looks at the clock on the wall in the living room and it’s currently 6 almost to be seven. Y/N could go upstairs and ask one of her friends to hangout, but she doesn’t want that. The best alternative could be taking a walk and seeing where her feet take her. She likes that option better, so she quietly went upstairs so she doesn’t wake up Cosmo.

Y/N changes her attire to ripped oversized mom jeans, an oversized graphic tee she bought on Depop and once again her infamous black and white vans. She grabs her airpods, and her keys. She’s finally ready for the evening. 

Y/N went back downstairs to check on Cosmo and make sure he has food and water ready for him just in case he wakes up while she’s still gone. When she felt everything was in order she ended straight to the door. 

The weather feels astronomically better than before which had Y/N feel much better with her decision. Y/N isn’t sure if she should take the right or left. If she decides on taking a right she’ll pass Harry’s house, but if she does decide to take a left she wouldn’t. Y/N starts going back and forth, but she decides on going left. 

There was a nice breeze in the summer air, and she’s listening to “I’m a Slave 4 U” by the one and only Britney fucking Spears. “What's practical is logical. What the hell who cares. All I know is I'm so happy. When you're dancing there. I'm a slave 4 U.” Y/N finds herself singing to herself. She’s been walking around aimlessly and rocking out to her songs for about thirty minutes. She’s aware she’s probably creating attention to herself, but she couldn’t find herself to care. Y/N is enjoying herself. 

“I’m a SLAVE FOR YOU!” Y/N shouts out with her eyes pinch shut, when she finally opens them she finds herself in front of Harry’s house. The worst part wasn't that she was walking in a circle. It wasn’t that she belted out to her songs. It wasn’t she was flinging her body around like she was the balloon thingy at the cars dealership shop. Nope. None of those. 

The worst fucking part is, Harry Fucking Styles is currently outside watching her. Fucking watching her. Once again fucking smoking. Again.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Ch. 3

18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing: Shigaraki x Dabi (just this part), Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader (very brief and vague reference to Dabi x Hawks)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: smut and feels, it's literally just smut, blow jobs, friends(?) with benefits, blow jobs, anal fingering, light degradation (both for shigs and reader), could maybe be interpreted as slight dubcon, dirty talk, slutty dabi, dabi is an asshole, so is tomura, reader has gender neutral pronouns, I'm keeping it fem cause Shigs hates women and calls them that

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which the boys share in some good ole roommate bonding activities and Tomura has a blow job induced epiphany.

AO3 Mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg (shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged and make sure to check my rules!)

Dabi’s mouth was wet and so fucking warm as he swallowed around Tomura’s dick.

“Oh fuck…” he groaned as Dabi hummed around his length and did that thing where he flicked the ball of his tongue ring over Tomura’s slit.

Bright blue eyes stared up through deceptively long lashes, smirking at the way Tomura drooled as he got his soul sucked out the tip of dick. The mattress underneath him creaked despite the negligible weight of both their bodies. Dabi settled on his stomach between Tomura’s pale thighs leaving fingerprint bruises in soft flesh.

They did this sometimes, though he wasn’t quite sure when exactly it started. Dabi had been his randomly assigned roommate freshman year and he grew so used to living with him that the two of them had just silently, yet mutually agreed not to fuck something up that wasn’t broken. They both berated each other for their strange and somewhat disgusting habits—Dabi would say that Tomura was a gross shut-in creep who needed a fucking shower and Tomura called Dabi out on his slutty pastimes and obsession with piercing the hell out of every available inch of skin.

And sometimes they sucked each other off.

It was overall not a terrible arrangement—Dabi got his fill of dick and Tomura could no longer be made fun of for being completely inexperienced. Plus, as much as he was loathe to admit, Dabi was really fucking good at oral. Like, demonically good. He’d been going down on Tomura for so long now too that he’d learned all the things that had him spilling onto that pierced tongue in minutes.

Tomura jerked from his thoughts when two, lube slicked fingers prodding at his ass.

“Dabi, what the fuck are you—” he protested, wiggling his scrawny hips up the bed and inadvertently letting his cock slip out of the inviting heat between his roommate’s lips.

He couldn’t see much other than the shaking mop of black hair and pale hands with chipped black nail polish digging into his legs, yanking him back.

“Shut up freak,” Dabi slurred, words slick with spit and Tomura’s precum. Dabi said it tasted like battery acid, but it never stopped him from guzzling it like he did with cheap whiskey and cigarettes on the weekends. “I know you like it.”

He did like it, but Tomura wasn’t about to contribute to the fucking evil grin Dabi was giving him as he circled the tight ring of muscle, slipping in a finger to the first knuckle.

Tomura’s head flopped back on the pillows as he bit back a low moan, “Fuck off.”

“If you say so,” Dabi shoved his finger in roughly, squeezing a second in behind it and letting Tomura bask in the burn of being stretched too quickly before ripping his hands away.

“No!” Tomura wailed pretty fucking shamelessly and grabbed the retreating wrist, placing Dabi’s tatted hand back on his dick that throbbed and leaked painfully.

“Dude, what’s gotten the fuck into you?” his roommate asked, smirking still, but pumping Tomura's cock loosely nonetheless. “Our walls are thin as hell, you know I can hear you jerkin' it in here every night, and now you’re practically begging for me to suck you off. Usually I gotta come to you.”

He was infuriatingly right again.

Tomura had indeed asked for him to do this, which was definitely out of character for him. Most of the time when they ended up in this position, it was because Dabi spent hours hounding him about it or just fucking dropped to his knees and whipped Tomura’s cock out in the middle of a movie night or snuck into his room while Tomura was gaming and swallowed him whole just to laugh at the way his online friends reacted to the noises.

He’s just been so pent up lately, and you insisting on fucking touching his arm or sitting on the floor between his feet at League meetings was really not helping it.

“I don’t know,” Tomura lied, both to Dabi and himself in the hopes that the head of black hair would just go back to bobbing on his dick like he so desperately needed it to.

“Bro, I have fucked with enough people to know when they’re wishing I was someone else,” Dabi scoffed and ran a blessedly hot tongue from base to tip and suckled softly at the blush pink head before pulling back with a wet pop. “So who is it?”

“I’m not fucking thinking about anyone,” Tomura hissed, fisting Dabi’s spiky, black locks and thrusting into his mouth till he felt the contractions of Dabi gagging around his length. “Usually you're jumping at the chance to get dick in your mouth, so why does it matter?”

Dabi pulled back, wiping the silvery string of spit leaking past his lips away and scowling as his fingers ghosted over Tomura’s balls and sank back into his pliant ass.

“Seriously creep, I’m five seconds away from ghosting and you can fuck your hand like the sad little bitch you are. So tell me their name or I’m walking right now.”

Tomura huffed as he felt Dabi’s long, rough fingers pulled from him again and the heat of his mouth growing farther away.

“Ugh fine, it’s that bitch I’ve been working on the English thing with.”

Dabi made a face like his brain was buffering.

“Seriously?” he asked, mouth gaping in a way that had Tomura even more furious his dick wasn’t buried in it.

“Yes!” he shouted and grabbed Dabi’s cheeks in both hands, sinking past his waiting lips and practically purring when he felt them close around the base as his long tongue massaged the shaft. “Oh god yes…”

Dabi rolled his eyes, managing to look smug even with a cock stretching his lips taught against the piercings. He used to try and tease Tomura about how small his dick was, but it was hard to believe him. Especially with how he choked sometimes when Tomura got rough with him despite his boasts of lacking a gag reflex. Not to mention how he looked now, jaw probably aching with the stretch and loving every second of it.

Tomura lazily bucked his hips up and whined high when the fingers in his ass curled and thrust against that fucking spot he hadn’t known was there until Dabi found it for him.

The pleased sound he made tapered off into a growl though, when his roommate with questionable benefits pulled off again to run his slutty fucking mouth.

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled, kitten licking at Tomura’s cock and running the ball of his piercing through the slit again. Tomura gulped when he pulled it back into his mouth to swallow the bead of precum he’d collected. “I’ve seen your fucking paramour around before, pretty serious about school though. And kinda out of your league too, not gonna lie. So, what would you do if your cute little partner was here instead?”

Tomura bristled at the insult but couldn’t keep his pissed off look when Dabi went back to sucking his cock like a pro and curling those fucking fingers against his prostate. When he did speak, he blushed hard at the way his voice cracked and sounded like he was crying.

“I don’t fucking—holy shit—know,” he gasped and Dabi hummed both to egg him on and to get a whole new wave of precum gushing out of Tomura’s dick.

“C’mon man,” Dabi groaned, and Tomura distinctly heard the sound of a pants zipper and felt Dabi’s hips canting against the sheets.

That fucking masochistic whore. He would get off to Tomura dirty talking about someone else while he sucked his dick.

He considered stopping the whole thing right there, but then Dabi was sinking a third finger into his ass and thrusting hard while he hallowed his cheeks around Tomura’s cock and sucked—

“Tits!” Tomura cried and covered his burning, red cheeks with his hands. “I want to put my fucking face in them and taste them in my mouth. Sometimes I can see the outline of their nipples when we’re working and the air conditioning comes on and I want to suck on them so fucking bad I can’t think about anything else the whole night.”

Once he got started, Tomura found the words just spilled from him like a dam had burst. Dabi, the depraved bastard, groaned loud and ground his pierced dick harder against the mattress as he continued to deepthroat Tomura’s cock and fuck his ass at that perfect angle.

“Sometimes when they drag me to their stupid club I lose the rounds cause I—oh god, oh fuck—just imagine them in my lap, sitting on my cock and fucking writhing and squeezing me while we face off. Such a fucking—Dabi more!—stereotypical try-hard, bitch but I want to be inside them so fucking bad,” he felt actual tears stinging the raw corners of his eyes when Dabi sped up on his dick.

Tomura scrapped his nails against Dabi’s scalp, holding on for dear life as his breathing became even more ragged than usual. His friend’s cruelty streak reared its ugly head as Dabi sensed the tensing of Tomura’s balls and the clench of his tight ass and slowed down a fraction, keeping him teetering on the edge of an explosively pleasurable release.

“Fucking asshole,” he growled, but didn’t dare try to fuck Dabi’s face lest he make good on his threat to leave Tomura high and dry. “I just—shit, ah, don’t stop—they talk to me sometimes and I just wanna suck their tongue into my mouth so they shut up and I need to hear them fucking falling apart or using that stupid, stuck up teacher voice on me and fucking my ass—Dabi Fuck—is that what you wanted to hear?”

Dabi, because he got off on being a little shit, gave him one last delicious swallow before pulling back and fisting Tomura’s sopping wet cock. The fingers had stopped thrusting and were now pressed hard against his prostate, sending shocks through his body and making him twitch violently as his blood rushed with endorphins. He never stopped grinding his own dick against Tomura’s cotton sheets the whole time.

“You got it bad huh, don’t ya creep,” he mused, letting a fat glob of spit fall from his lips and keep his palm slick. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about fucking anything, much less another actual person.”

“No I fucking don’t, “ Tomura writhed against the pillows, giving in to the undeniable urge to simultaneously fuck up into Dabi’s hand and ride his fingers.

“Who knew you were such a desperate whore, falling for the first person to show you a modicum of attention,” Dabi jeered and squeezed the tip of his dick hard, listening to Tomura let out a choked sob. “I’m actually kinda proud of you, bro. My little incel baby’s growing up.”

Dabi cooed at Tomura, sinking sharp teeth deep into the meat of his thigh and sucking a bruise into the flesh.

“You’re the one—nghh—getting off on it,” Tomura clapped back but didn’t bother denying it again.

There was a sense of dread growing in his gut alongside the mounting pleasure of his orgasm that Dabi was currently holding hostage. Dabi may have had a dickish personality just as massive as the actual dick that was currently painting his comforter in stains, but he knew Tomura.

And he did, admittedly have much more experience with these types of things.

“Fuck yeah I am,” Dabi grunted. “Last time I let you return the favor you bit my fucking cock. I gotta get off somehow.”

“Don’t say rude shit to me and I won’t bite you.”

“Watch it, Tomura,” Dabi huffed and nipped at his thigh again. “You should be thanking me for my services.”

“Not if you’re gonna keep running your mouth instead of sucking me off,” he tried to sound intimidating but he was well and truly wrecked and couldn’t find the energy to give his words an edge.

“You should ask them out,” Dabi continued, ignoring the failed attempts at banter. “Bring ‘em over or some shit. Maybe then if I lock down that blonde piece of ass I’ve been talking to, we’ll both have much more interesting things to go down on.”

“Your whore ass is the one always jumping me, don’t act like it’s a fucking chore,” Tomura groaned as Dabi started licking at his cock again, pressing sloppy, half kisses on the tip as he jerked it in his fist.

“Not my fault I get bored sometimes,” he replied and closed his eyes as Tomura clenched particularly hard around Dabi’s relentless fingers. “But seriously, you should go for it. I’d kill to find out if you’re just as bad at eating pussy as you are sucking dick.”

“Fuck y—” Tomura started to say when Dabi reared up till they were chest to chest and their foreheads knocked together.

“I fucking will if you don’t shut up, creep, and I think it’d be so much better if you handed your fucking virginity to that pretty little partner bitch instead,” he said and stunned Tomura into silence when he licked into his mouth.

Dabi had kissed him before, but Tomura could count the number of occasions on one hand and almost all had been when his punk ass roommate was drunk as hell and in his feels about some tortured past. But Dabi’s eyes were bright and lucid now, blinking down at Tomura as he dragged their tongues together, flooding his mouth with the faint taste of cigarettes and jizz.

Their cocks brushed together too, the stimulation making Tomura whine into Dabi’s lips, who dropped a merciful hand down, taking them both in his fist and began pumping.

He didn’t stop as he pulled back, grinning down at Tomura like a fucking maniac—all shitty tattoos and silver piercings. The little barbels that stuck through Dabi’s nipples brushed against his own and made him moan at the cool metal and hot skin on his sensitive chest. Tomura was fucking sensitive everywhere, as Dabi had helped him discover, probably from a lifetime of being touched more by cheap sweatshirts than human hands.

“Now,” Dabi grunted as he thrust loosely against Tomura’s cock and his own fist before pulling away to settle back between his legs. “Shut up and cum down my throat—gotta give your virgin ass a refresher on mind shattering orgasms, so you know if that bitch is any good or not.”

Tomura’s tongue was halfway around a witty comeback when Dabi swallowed him to the hilt once again and started working his ass even harder. He really fucked hoped the neighbors were not home to hear him get his shit rocked at 2pm on a fucking Tuesday, cause Dabi might have been flunking out of his classes but he’d get a goddamn A plus for sucking dick.

The hand on his thigh, spreading him open, migrated to his hip so that Tomura could snap his legs shut hard around Dabi’s ring littered ears as he guided Tomura to grind down on his hand. The pressure in his gut built up exponentially higher now that Dabi wasn’t trying to hold him on the edge of climax. It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to acquiesce to Dabi’s request, as he tightened up in a full body clench before gripping Dabi’s hair and spilling rope after rope of hot, sticky release straight onto his roommate’s tongue.

Dabi, the fucking slut, made a show of swallowing every drop that spilled from Tomura’s abused cock, milking his prostate the whole time and only letting Tomura slip from his mouth when he was soft and finally spent.

The fingers in his ass remained though, still for the most part and slowly dipping in and out every so often. Tomura whimpered and clenched but was somewhat thankful for the remaining feeling of fullness.

“So, did you really mean all that?” Dabi asked with his signature smirk. “You really want your group project partner to cockwarm you and fuck your tight little ass?”

“Fuck off,” Tomura scowled and smacked Dabi hard across the face with an errant pillow.

Dabi yanked it from his grasp and tossed his ammunition onto the floor. “Hey, it’s not actually too bad in here,” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis which elicited an embarrassingly high gasp from Tomura, “give ‘em my number if you need a reference for asshole tightness.”

“Get the fuck out of my ass and my room,” Tomura kicked at Dabi’s back as it shook with laughter that lacked it’s usual jeering bite.

“What? Saving the cuddles for your new S/O?” he shot back, nuzzling his cum and spit covered face into Tomura’s neck.

With their chests pressed together, Tomura could feel the cooling, sticky remnants of Dabi’s own release coating his stomach. He squirmed against the sensation and pushed at the offending chest until his friend flopped down onto the scant space left between the mattress and the wall.

“Ew,” Tomura ran a finger through the mess Dabi had left smeared on him. “I’m taking a fucking shower.”

“God, finally!” Dabi exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and producing a cigarette from god knows where. He let the paper rest between his lips unlit. “I should have thought about getting you fucked out on the reg earlier, creep, if it’ll stop you smelling like ass.”

Tomura launched the discarded pillow which hit it’s mark with a dull thump.

“You better be fucking gone when I get back,” he hissed and stumbled naked, on shaking legs into the hall and to their shared bathroom.

Dabi’s cackling followed him until the door shut and the lock clicked behind him.

Tomura turned the water on quickly, letting steam cloud the mirror before he jumped under the spray. The only products on the shelves were Dabi’s for the most part with the exception of a store brand bar of soap and some 3 in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

Tomura knew he should clean himself more often, but his skin was so fucking raw all the time it hurt to do, so he mostly avoided it unless the smell got really unbearable—or Dabi was painting him in jizz whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He tried to get in and out as quickly as possible so he didn’t have the opportunity to think too hard about the admission his fuck buddy roommate had pulled from him mid blow job. Because if he did—in his post nut, clingy state—he’d most certainly imagine you were with him, tits pressed against his back and your soft, insistent tongue dipping past his lips, tasting like fruit gum and expensive cafe drinks instead of nicotine and cum.

And he really couldn’t handle that. Cause Dabi was right, he had something fucking bad for you and the thought of another rejection loomed large.

When he did towel himself off and shuffle, still naked back into his bedroom Dabi was nowhere to be seen. Tomura’s phone however, was left sitting right next to the jizz stain on his sheets. He frowned at the open balcony door where Dabi was no doubt smoking and snatched the device before tumbling onto the pillows.

He powered it on and scrolled through his notifs before one caught his eyes. You and Dabi were really the only people that ever texted him, but the contact name above this one had changed.

bitch (endearing)

— hey, starting an impromptu round of Smash soon if you’re interested <3

The stupid text heart made his chest throb and he stared at Dabi’s new nickname for you, not even noticing the fucking grin that tugged at his cheeks.

He bit his lip to stop the twitching when it pulled too hard at the chapped skin and scrambled for his clothes before shooting a quick confirmation text back. Tomura opted for his only pair of black jeans this time instead of sweats and the least stained sweatshirt he owned.

Dabi peaked around the corner when he heard the clink of Tomura’s keys. The bastard was smoking in just a pair of underwear that left half his ass on display for all the whole fucking street. He smirked, quirking his eyebrows and bringing his hands up to slip his index finger through the circle he made on the other hand in a silent, vulgar gesture.

“Screw off,” Tomura shouted over his shoulder and made for the door.

“Wrap it before you tap it, bro!” Dabi called after him, cut off by the subsequent slamming.

Tomura took the stairs two at a time, pulling out his phone and tucking the hood over his damp hair, this time to hide the growing smile playing at his lips.

[thebrochtuarachs]

All That Was Good 

A/N: One of my many versions of "What if Jamie and Claire both passed through the stones before Culloden?" stories. This came about just this weekend and my brain would not stop until I wrote it down and shared it with you all. I know the 20-year separation of Jamie and Claire is one of the most used plots in the Outlander-verse (I, for one, am all for it) so here's my wee contribution to it! I'm bad at summaries but hope you like this wee one! As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.

AO3

xxxxx

This cannot be it.

As their hands moved closer together to touch the stone, Claire’s heart was feeling a million emotions but her mind was clear with just one thing - Jamie.

This cannot be it.

In the three years they’ve been together, neither of them could’ve known just how much they’d mean to each other, depend on each other, care for each other, let alone, love each other - so deeply and passionately that they were willing to change history if it came to that.

This cannot be it.

“Goodbye, Claire” she felt his breath and lips in her temple as he pulled her closer to him by the waist, desperately trying to keep themselves together for as long as they could and engrain the memory of their bodies molded as one. And in the middle, was the miracle they prayed and hoped for who will never know his father and grow up with a family he deserved.

This cannot be it.

Her fingers can almost feel the roughness of the stone surface and the journey that will follow after. She wanted to turn her head and see his face one last time, beg him to release her from her promise and let her stay in this time. But time was running out. In the last seconds, Claire made her wish known again and again.

Me. Jamie. Our Baby. Our Family. Anywhere. Anytime. Together.

Me. Jamie. Our Baby. Our Family. Anywhere. Anytime. Together.

Me. Jamie. Our Baby. Our Family. Anywhere. Anytime. Together.

Claire expected the deafening buzz that usually came with the stones - but what was new was the blinding light that suddenly seemed to emit from it. She wondered if Jamie could see it since he couldn’t hear the buzz and she  got her confirmation when she heard Jamie exclaim a “What in the devil..?!” just before everything went black.

----

The journey to the stones is never easy. It feels like you're being taken apart and then weaved back together. It really takes a toll to the body.

Claire stirred to someone stroking her hair. Once her mind was a little bit more awake, she took a mental stock of herself. She felt whole, alive, and for some reason, she was sitting in some armchair with her head laid down on the table.

She slowly opened her eyes, cautious just in case she got affected somehow by the last light she saw and to prepare herself to know the aftermath of this trip.

“Thank Christ!” was the first sound she heard. “Are ye alright?"

Her mind raced, she needed to respond. In another effort to finally face her reality, she lifted her, fully opened her eyes and saw the two most worried ocean eyes boring straight into hers.

Her eyes widened at the sight before her. Impossible.

“Ja - Jamie?” she softly called out, a hand unsure to touch his face.

“Aye, tis me, Claire. Do ye remember me? I was afraid you wouldn’t recognize me” he replied.

“Jamie, oh my god!” her dizziness forgotten, she quickly stood up as Jamie did too and they held each other so tightly she was sure she couldn’t breath.

She pulled away and started inspecting every part of him she could. “Are you alright? What happened?!”

“I don’t know. All I remember was I brought ye to the stones, we we’re about to touch it when a light beamed through. Next thing I knew, I woke up leaning by that shelf, wearing this clothes, and saw you passed out here.”  Jamie shared.

“So you did see the light too! I haven’t experienced or seen that before so I thought it could’ve been just for me but...here you are.”

“Here I am” he said simply.

As their dizziness wore off and their mind became more rational, they needed to investigate fast on where and when they were.

Claire was wearing a white sleeveless shirtwaist dress, almost similar to the one she was wearing the first time she went through the stones, while Jamie was wearing a navy blue knitted shirt tucked in light brown fitted trousers.

They were definitely not in the 1740s anymore.

They were in an old scottish cottage, though obviously renovated and restored, with most of the items inside looking museum grade. A sign hanged up wrote “Old Leanach Cottage” and below it in smaller letters were the words “Culloden Moor” .

They were at Culloden.

Lastly, together they gravitated towards a notebook, a visitor log, and found that the year was 1948.

They were in Claire’s time.

Stunned and a little bit confused, Jamie and Claire looked at each other as the shock passed through them.

Impossible, indeed.

Claire and Jamie had more questions than answers and the place they currently were seemed different that what Claire was used to so both of them are pretty much out of place until they knew more about their present lives.

“Whatever this is, whatever has happened” Jamie’s firm voice broke the ice. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“Okay.” Claire replied. The unknowns were endless but with the strength of having Jamie by her side, there was nothing much to fear. “Of course” Claire nodded surely and then leaned her face to Jamie’s for a single deep kiss.

There’s always something that stirs between them whenever they kiss and they both smile at the fact that that feeling hasn’t gone away. Whatever they need it to be, it will be that. And right now, this kiss was a kiss of love, gratitude, comfort, and security.

Just as they were to pull away, they heard voices outside the cottage call for them.

“Jamie, Clare, are you guys finished?” a man’s voice asked.

Surprised by the interaction, Jamie’s first action was to protect Claire. His hands automatically reached out to his side where his sgian dubh always reside but he grasped for nothing in the air. Another reminder that they were in a different time.

“Jamie, those voices…”

“D’ye know them, Sassenach?”

Claire shook her head. Her mind was swirling - the voices we’re so familiar, she was sure she knew them - but she couldn’t put a name or a face.

“Come on, you two! Chop, chop! We still have a 3-hour ride ahead of us.” a woman’s voice followed.

“Should we just head out and see?” she asked. Jamie shrugged in agreement, took Claire’s hand, and led them out of the cottage.

Nothing could’ve prepared either of them for what was to happen next. They were both frozen in place as a couple turned around and in front of them is Henry and Julia Beauchamp.

“There you are!” Julie exclaimed. “What took you so long? We thought you’re only signing the visitor’s log book”. She noticed their confused looks, and slowly reached out a hand. “Are you guys...okay?”

Without another thought, Claire gravitated towards her parents and pulled her mother to a tight embrace and cried.

“Mama” Claire said softly.

“You haven’t called me that in a long time” Julie replied, hugging her daughter back. She pulled her daughter back when she felt a wetness in her shoulder. “Why are you crying?”

Claire didn’t reply but went to her dad and hugged him just as tight.  “While I do love this,” Henry began, “I’m not sure what’s going on.” He patted her back, “Claire?”

“I’m sorry, I…” Claire started to think of an explanation while wiping her eyes and fixing herself up. “I just missed you so much”

There was so much more she wanted to say, just in case this was all a dream, but her last words summarized what was at the core of it all.

“I know, we missed you guys too. It’s been almost a month since we got together and this is a little overdue. Do you think you can make it back the car, though? I really don’t want to miss lunch.” Henry teased.

“Let’s go! I don’t want to be late. You know how strict Brian and Ellen are with the lunch schedule. Last time we missed it, there were hardly any food left.” Julia followed.

It was Jamie’s turn to feel more disbelief. “I’m sorry, what?” He didn’t know how we found his voice but, at the moment, his mind had  life of its on and the words came flying out.

“What do you mean ‘what’? We’re on our way to see your parents at Lallybroch, James.”

[giantroboticplatypusbutt218]

Boiling Point

This is Part 1 of the Magnetic Attraction series.

Rating: General Audiences

Content Warnings: Fantastic Racism, Internalized Homophobia, Canon-Typical Violence.

Summary: The Loonatics get called in to prevent a planet’s energy crisis, and as Heroes of the Universe, they are more than up to the challenge. However, upon arrival, the team notices a certain biotech problem they couldn’t account for. With tensions growing and relationships being brought into question, what was supposed to be a simple repair job may turn out to be less simple than they first thought.

Word Count: 20,907

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (Link to chapter on Ao3)

~

Chapter 5

Word Count: 4328

~

“Thank you all again,” Wattney said as she finished escorting the team back up to the roof. “Had it not been for your work, the entire quadrant would have experienced a blackout, causing so much damage and endangering so many lives. I cannot stress how much I appreciate what you have done.”

“Aw, it was nothing,” Ace said. By now, his migraine lessened enough that he could open his eyes. “We’re heroes; It’s what we do.” 

“Actually, it wasn’t nothing,” Duck huffed. “I got punched in the bill by a possessed coyote, nearly got blasted with boiling water, and fell onto my face from fifty feet in the air.” He crossed his arms, nodding toward Wattney. “So I will accept your gratitude. You’re welcome, by the way.” 

“Ace was trying to be humble,” Lexi said to him under her breath. 

“No, it is completely fair to be upset over those unfortunate circumstances,” Wattney said. “I apologize that you had to go through those things, and thank you for your contributions.” 

“I uh, well…” Duck rubbed his neck. “I-It was nothing! I’m a hero, after all!” 

Ace and Lexi snorted at his turnaround.

The wormhole for heading back to HQ opened high above their heads. Slam pointed up to it and grunted to get the team’s attention. 

“Hey Duck, want me to take you back right now?” Rev immediately asked.

“Yes please,” he responded emphatically. 

Rev flew into the air so Duck could grab his ankles, but was stopped by Wattney’s shout. 

“Wait!” 

With a whine, he landed back on the ground. 

“Rev, I am terribly sorry about what you went through,” she said. “I am so grateful that you continued to help us despite everything. If there is anything I can do to make it up to you, I will do it.” 

“Just… try to keep the generator running,” he said before flying up again. 

“See you guys back at HQ!” Duck said, grabbing onto Rev before being carried through the wormhole. 

“What I said applies to you as well, Tech,” Wattney said, drawing his attention. “I am grateful for your immense amount of help, and terribly sorry for what you went through.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving her off with his free hand. “That wasn’t my first mind control rodeo. It happens when you’ve got a brain everyone wishes they had!” He let out a weak laugh, ending in an awkward cough. 

“Still,” Wattney continued, “if there’s any way to make it up to you, I will.” 

“What Rev said,” Tech insisted, adjusting the hand that carried his briefcase, as well as a trash bag filled with the trashed jetpacks. “Just keep the place running, and we’ll be good.” 

With that, Tech walked over to Slam who was patiently waiting off to the side. “You mind taking me back first?” he asked. 

Slam shook his head, kneeling down so Tech could get on his shoulders. Being the only person left with a functioning jetpack, he had accepted his duty to fly the rest of the team through the wormhole without issue. 

Rev was supposed to help too, but clearly, he wasn’t up to making multiple trips right now. 

Tech gave a “goodbye” to Wattney as Slam lifted off the ground.

“Lexi,” Wattney pointed out next, “I must personally thank you for taking good care of Joule. And also for returning Volten’s synapper to him. It means so much that you treated them with kindness, even after how they hurt you and your friends.” 

“Well, even if they aren’t too great to us, it wouldn’t have been fair to be mean to those little creatures that only want to help.” 

Joule chirred happily.

Slam landed by Lexi’s side, already kneeling to let her up. 

“I guess it’s time for me to go!” She hopped onto Slam’s shoulders, waving at Wattney. “Goodbye!” 

As Slam and Lexi went into the air, only Ace and Wattney were left. 

“Ace, thank you for bringing your team here to help us. I think I could learn a lot from how you handled your team when things became dire.” 

“That’s very flattering Wattney, but I think we’re just used to things being dire after two years of doing this stuff. My commands are only as good as the people following them.”

“And it seems I have much to go over with my employees. Perhaps I should enforce monthly drills…” She hummed in thought. “I’ll figure out the logistics once everything is cleaned up.”

“You don’t mind, right? I offered to clean-”

“-You already did so much today,” she insisted. “Let me do the bare minimum of letting you relax after a long day’s work. You’ll finally have a chance to take something for your headache.”

“That would be nice…” Ace said, still feeling a throb of pain every so often. 

Slam made his way back again, landing next to Ace.

“Ah, Slam. I must personally thank you as well,” Wattney said. “Even after working yourself to total exhaustion, you still went back to continue heating the boiler with what little energy you had left. It was clearly a tremendous effort and I appreciate what you did.”

Slam mumbled to himself, entirely flattered. 

“Well Slam,” Ace announced, “think it’s time we head back?” 

He nodded, letting Ace hop onto him as well. 

“Goodbye you two!” Wattney called as they flew into the sky. 

“Goodbye Wattney! It was a pleasure to help!” 

And with that, the entire team was back at HQ and the wormhole closed.

~

Tech looked up at the lab door again. How many times he glanced up from his repairs to the door, he lost count. Whether the number was large from the length of time he waited or the number of times he looked, he didn’t know. The thought of checking a clock to find out filled him with too much dread to try. 

Sighing, he continued his work. What Rev said during the chase came true; He did come to regret breaking all the things he built later. 

Though, that wasn’t the only thing he was regretting right now. 

Pushing the jetpack he was working on forward, Tech crossed his arms onto the workbench and rested his head on top, letting out a low whine. 

“I really did ruin everything, didn’t I?��� 

Sure, it was mostly the synapper’s fault. Sure, Rev probably understands that under normal circumstances, he would never violate his boundaries like that. And sure, while Rev might not have known that their relationship was such a pressing issue in his mind, Rev would probably be able to accept and ignore that somewhat easily. 

But… the actual experience of being chased down for a kiss… that is probably going to stick in his mind for a while. No amount of rational thought can remove that kind of bad memory. And such a memory will definitely negatively influence Rev’s willingness to ever consider dating him. Heck… by the looks of it… Rev already doesn’t even want to speak with him anymore. 

Tech craned his neck to hide his face in his arms. He was a fast enough worker. He could give himself time to sulk now and finish repairing everything later. 

A part of him wanted to blame Duck for this. But, while using a kiss to convince Rev to date him was definitely influenced by him, had Duck not said anything, Tech is certain he would have done something equally stupid while possessed. Besides, blaming Duck wouldn’t fix anything. It wouldn’t make Rev stop avoiding him. 

Though, Tech wished he knew what would. Rev might have said he’d meet him later, but that was clearly a fluke. He was hoping he’d have a chance to explain things. Maybe convince Rev that nothing has to change between them… But clearly, everything already had.

Then, an ear flicked as the sound of a metallic door opening caught his attention. He looked up and-

It was Rev. 

“Hey,” Tech greeted cautiously.

“Hey,” Rev greeted back in a similar manner. 

Tech slowly lifted himself off the workbench, but Rev continued to stand in the doorway. 

“So… you’re… willing to talk to me?” 

“I… uh… Yeah… I guess…” 

They stood in place… quiet, eyes averted, for several long seconds. Tech opened his mouth to ask Rev to close the door, but didn’t follow through. 

Finally, Rev glanced back at the opened doorway and sighed shakily, before stepping forward and letting it automatically close. However, that was as far as he went. 

After waiting a few more seconds, Tech accepted that this was the best he was going to get, and decided to get on with what he wanted to say. 

“I’m… sorry about all the stuff I did,” Tech said, rubbing his arm. “Even if my inhibitions were altered by the synapper, the actions I took while under its power still happened, and represented my desires regardless.” 

Rev shifted in place, remaining silent by the door. 

Taking a deep breath, Tech continued. 

“I put you through a lot of distress, and I won’t ask you to forgive me for it. I just want you to know that… that this doesn’t have to change anything between us.”

“Doesn’t have to change anything?!” Rev shouted, throwing up his hands. “This changes everything! ” 

“Rev-!”

“You can’t just admit to secretly having the desire to eat me and then expect me to ignore that!-”

“-Wait what?-”

“-I mean seriously that isn’t just something I can brush aside!-”

“-Hold on-”

“-With how smart you are I can’t believe how dumb you think I am!-”

“-I WANTED TO KISS YOU, REV!”

“Wh-” Rev choked on his words, blinking in shock. 

Then. 

“You seriously thought I wanted to eat you?!” 

“Uh…” Rev stood with his jaw hanging for a moment. Then, his eyes shifted to the side, and he cowered slightly. “Oh…”

“Unbelievable,” Tech huffed. Then, he crossed his arms. “Actually, you know what? It’s entirely believable. Why else would my forcefully uninhibited mind cause me to chase after you? Because I really wanted to kiss my best friend of two years? Pshh! Yeah right! Obviously it was because I had some deep dark desire to eat him. After all, it would be ridiculous for a roadrunner to date a coyote, right?”

“I thought,” Rev said weakly, “you felt lucky that I wouldn’t be into you, after what you said last year…” 

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind.” He turned away, closing his eyes. “And I hoped that… maybe you did too. But clearly, I was wrong.” 

“You weren’t!” Rev yelped, rushing forward and accidentally slamming into the opposite end of the worktable. Quickly recovering, he rearranged the displaced materials and stood straight, opening his mouth to speak. However, nothing came out. 

Tech glanced over his shoulder, giving an unimpressed frown before sighing. His head hung toward his crossed arms, ears drooping. “I don’t know why you feel the need to lie. Regardless of your feelings, I think you’ve made it clear that you’d never consider dating me. That my species and gender are a deal breaker to you.” 

“I…” 

Silence. 

“What’re you standing there for? Leave me alone so I can get back to work.” He let out a laugh in dark humor. “Besides, I missed lunch. You probably wouldn’t want to stick around while I’m hungry.”  

Tech stood there, listening for a sign that Rev was leaving, but heard nothing. Then, when he opened his mouth to make another remark, Rev spoke before he could. 

“I’m sorry, Tech…” 

Ears tried to perk up in curiosity, but Tech quickly trained himself back to his aloof, but secretly alert, pose. 

Rev sighed shakily, his voice forced into being even. “I was so focused on denying that I had feelings for you… that I didn’t even realize I was hurting you with everything I was saying. Despite how much I care, and would like to… date… you, nothing I’ve said has shown that…” He swallowed thickly, rubbing his arm. “Just because I have some weird hang ups about being with a coyote and a guy… that doesn’t mean it’s inherently wrong. And… immediately assuming you wanted to eat me… I think… is just a sign of a larger problem deep down that I need to deal with…” A deep breath. “Whatever happens after this, I just want you to know that I really am sorry, Tech. I promise I’ll start thinking things through and… working on my coyote issues. And, if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, I will.” 

There was a pause.

“Anything?” Tech said darkly. 

“Um…” Rev gulped. “Y-Yes. Anything.” 

Snorting in good humor, Tech turned around and placed his hand on a jetpack. “Help me patch up my poor babies.”

Rev lit up. “Uh, y-yeah! I can do that!” Swinging around, he got into position beside Tech. Then, he looked up at him, smiling sheepishly. “Uh, is this… okay? Did you want me to help somewhere else?” 

“Relax,” Tech said, sliding him the jetpack. “That’s the second thing you can do to make it up to me.” 

“Okay,” Rev peeped, taking some tools and getting to work. 

Soon, the air was filled with various metallic sounds. But, a noticeable lack of someone’s voice left an uneasy atmosphere. 

Tech quirked a brow, glancing at Rev. 

“You know I said ‘relax’, and not ‘be quiet’, right?” 

“…Do you want me to talk?” 

“I don’t want you to force yourself to be quiet.” 

“Oh…” Rev looked away, before giving him a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I sorta thought you had enough of me talking for today.” 

“What makes you think that?” 

“Well I mean with all the times you forced me to shut up and yelled at me for-” The rest of his sentence got caught in his throat. He let out a strangled, nervous laugh. “Sorry. Nevermind. I just realized how dumb I was being. I don’t wanna make this about me.” 

“Then I’ll make it about you.” After a moment of thought, Tech sighed. “I do like hearing you talk, Rev. You always understand what I’m saying and have something informed to add. It’s just that, sometimes, you keep going despite the detriment to the current mission or even to your own safety. And sometimes you say so much even I have problems processing everything you’ve said. And then there are your terrible attempts to deny your feelings that just end up making you look worse.” 

“If talking so much is at best extremely annoying and at worst actively making things more dangerous, aren’t you justified in stopping me?” 

“Not by physically restraining you,” Tech asserted. He turned away, his posture dropping with guilt. “If you’re really in danger, I know that shouting loud enough will get your attention. And you’ve already promised to work on how you talk about me. That just leaves you saying so much so fast in regular conversation… which definitely doesn’t warrant such an extreme reaction from me.” 

“It’s not… that extreme…” 

“Rev.” 

Tech faced him head on, making sure he had his full attention before continuing. 

“Yelling at you… grabbing your beak… it isn’t right. I’ve always noticed how much it kills your mood… and just ignored it. Selfishly.” He sighed. “So, I’m sorry, Rev. I want my actions to reflect how much I care about you too. There shouldn’t be any question that you’re the greatest friend I could ever hope to have, even if you still have some things to work on.” 

“Yeah.” Looking away, he blushed slightly. “Thank you.” 

“It’s nothing, Rev. Just like anyone else, you deserve basic respect, especially if I ever hope to be someone worth going out with.”

“Okay.” 

Rev rubbed his arm awkwardly. 

Tech eyed him curiously. “Something up?” 

“Well it’s…” Anxiously, he brought his gaze to Tech. “What… happens now?” 

“We fix the jetpacks I regretfully destroyed?” 

“No, I mean…” Rev’s eyes drifted as he collected his thoughts. “I mean, I know that you tried to kiss me… And… you know that I want to… date… you.”  

“Oh.” Tech pursed his lips, before continuing his work. “Before this all started, I was trying to say that nothing had to change between us, and it’s still true.” His hands paused briefly, and he let out a sigh. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m under the impression you’re still not the most comfortable with the thought of actually dating me.” 

“You’re… right…” Rev admitted. 

“So, I’m not going to pressure you into it. If you want to start going down that path, then you can decide when we take the first step. Until then, we can be good friends who happen to have feelings for each other.” 

“That… sounds okay.” 

“Good. Now, let’s finish this up so I can get back to building new things, rather than repairing old ones.”

“Alright.” 

They began to work more comfortably, sometimes passing a specialty tool to the other when they needed it. Though, as they started to get into a good rhythm, something began eating away at the back of Rev’s mind.

“Hey, Tech?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Um,” he smiled sheepishly, “so I was kinda… fearing too much for my life after you caught me, so I didn’t actually see how you managed to get that synapper off.”

“Oh,” Tech said.

“So… how’d you do it? It was on for good until it wanted to come off. How’d you get it to?” 

“I uh… I’m not sure…” Tech bit his lip, running those events through his head. “Though… I might have a hypothesis…”

Putting down his tools, Tech focused his thoughts entirely on his words. 

“So, immediately after I had you restrained with that metal pole, I was working under the assumption that you were totally okay with me kissing you, or at the very least, just a little nervous about it. So, of course, the synapper would have been under the same impression as well, given that it was simply taking information from my own brain.”

Laughing sadly, he rubbed his arm. 

“But then,” he said, “as soon as I got close… you begged me to stop. Started crying. There… wasn’t any way I could interpret that as being just a little shy. As soon as I saw that, I knew you weren’t okay with any of it.” Tech coughed into his arm awkwardly. “Though, of course, I only thought that meant you didn’t want a kiss. I didn’t know that you thought I was gonna eat you.” 

Rev coughed awkwardly as well. “Y-Yeah…” 

“Anyway,” Tech slowly continued, “seeing you crying like that… so scared of me touching you… I think it reminded me that kissing you wasn’t… what I really wanted.” Face flushed red, he looked away. “What I wanted… more than anything… was for us to stay together… regardless of what kind of relationship we had…” He cleared his throat and ran a hand over his ears. “So… with that realization, the synapper figured out it wasn’t helping and loosened enough that I could pull it off.” 

Laughing nervously, he picked up his tools again. “But that’s just my best guess. Maybe it got tired or something, heh heh…” 

Tech hunched over his work, pretending like that conversation didn’t happen. The air was silent for a few moments, nothing but the sounds of Tech working filling the air. 

Then. 

“Hey, maybe we could go somewhere after this.” 

Tech’s head shot up and his eyes locked on Rev, entirely speechless. 

“L-Lunch! I mean. Go out on a lunch- I MEAN out to lunch! Not on a date- not that I said anything about a date- not that going on a date would be bad but- FORGET ABOUT THE DATE THING! Just two friends having lunch- even if it’s technically closer to dinner but dinner sounds too formal so just lunch- and there are no expectations of it being romantic and why aren’t you stopping me Tech?!”

Tech smirked, crossing his arms. “I said I wasn’t gonna stop you, didn’t I?” 

“Y-Yes you did! But that means that I have to be the one to stop talking and even if it really hurts to be shushed sometimes I might end up saying something embarrassing if I keep talking- and there you are still letting me talk- and am I even saying anything anymore- Back on topic! The date-! I MEAN THE LUNCH- I MEAN FRIENDS HAVING LUNCH-!”

Placing his hand on Rev’s shoulder cut off his rant. “Lunch sounds great,” Tech said simply. 

“Haha! Yeah! Awesome!” 

Finally, they both returned to their work. Though, as time passed, Rev slowly sidled up to Tech until they were touching shoulders. 

Tech didn’t mind whatsoever.

~

“So wait, Rev seriously thought Tech was trying to eat him?” 

“Well, yeah. That’s why he flew past me screaming, ‘Tech is trying to eat me help’.” 

“Hmm. I guess that explains why he was acting weird after the whole thing.” Duck tapped his bill in thought. “…Are you sure he isn’t stupid?” 

Lexi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “No, Duck. Just ignorant.” 

“That’s basically the same thing, isn’t it?”

Lexi opened her mouth to counter, but the sound of the lab door opening got her attention. She looked in the direction of it as chuckles filled the air. 

“Is it just disproportionate gravitational force,” Rev smooth talked, “or are your eyes just the Great Attractor?” 

Tech snickered softly. “You must be traveling at the speed of light, because whenever I look at you, time seems to stop.”

A flattered chuckle got caught in Rev’s throat as he and Tech finally walked within sight of Lexi and Duck. 

“Oh. Uh. Hi!” Rev greeted. 

“Hey guys!” Lexi greeted back with a wave.

“Okay that was totally flirting, right?” Duck muttered to Lexi. “Like, come on.” 

“So! Did you guys finish up the repairs, then?” 

“Hey! Don’t ignore me!” 

“We sure did,” Tech said. “Though, I didn’t know you guys were going to be here, otherwise I would’ve grabbed your stuff from the lab before coming.”

“I’ll grab everything!” Rev said before rushing to the lab. 

“Hey Tech!” Duck called, not waiting for a reply. “Did you try out my advice?”

“Under the synapper’s mind control, I suppose an attempt was made.” 

“So it helped, right?” 

“No,” Tech stated flatly. “In fact, if I actually succeeded, it would have caused irreparable damage to my relationship with Rev.”

“Wait…” Lexi said, side eyeing Duck. “What advice?”  

Duck faltered. “Um… Hoo… Er…” 

Rev returned, setting two jetpacks on the coffee table. 

“There ya go! Everything’s all good to go which means Tech and I are good to go because right now we’re going out to lunch- Not like out like on a-” Rev paused, thinking to himself. “We’re having lunch. That’s all.” 

Tech gave a subtle nod of approval.

Rev smiled. “Well, time to go!” 

He was immediately by Tech’s side, but as soon as they reached for the door it was opened by Ace and Slam. 

“Hey Tech! Hey Rev!” 

“Hey Ace we’re having lunch- Actually wait a sec-!” 

Rev took off toward the lab again.

Ace smiled. “Rev seems excited; Definitely better than the glum mood he was in only an hour ago.” 

“Well, a nice chat can solve a lot of problems as it turns out.” 

In a flash, Rev was back and Ace’s jetpack was shoved into his arms with barely any time to react. 

“There, now you have your jetpack so there are no distractions so Tech and I are gonna go now bye!” 

With that Tech exclaimed “woah!” as Rev picked him up bridal style and rushed out the door with him. 

“Real excited,” Ace commented, walking toward the others with Slam. “I wonder what’s up with that.” 

“Well obviously they’re going on a date,” Duck stated. 

“That’s not what Rev just said.”

Slam nodded. 

“Yeah, well of course he’s gonna say that. I bet he doesn’t even know it’s a date.”

“If he doesn’t think it’s a date then it’s not a date,” Ace retorted. 

“Duck,” Lexi warned, “what ‘advice’ did you give Tech?” 

“What’re you talking about Lexi?” Ace asked.

“Duck here let slip that he gave Tech a little advice behind our backs, and Tech said something about it possibly ruining his relationship with Rev.”  

Ace slowly turned his head toward Duck, glaring. “What did you tell him, Duck?”

“Well… you know…” Duck smiled sheepishly, his head lowering at each scowl his eyes landed on. “Tech said that Rev and him obviously loved each other, so I told him to just go up to Rev and smooch him already.”

“Why would you tell him to do that?!”  

“He said Rev needed time to figure himself out and I thought a kiss would make him do it faster!” 

“Ugh.” Ace pinched the bridge of his nose. Lexi and Slam shared the sentiment. “Duck, that is the worst love advice I’ve heard in my entire life. Did Tech even ask for advice in the first place?” 

“Of course not. Most people don’t just ask for advice when they don’t even know they need it!” 

Lexi groaned. “Did it ever occur to you that you shouldn’t tell people how to deal with their personal lives without asking?”

“No. Why? Is it bad?” 

“YES!” everyone else said unanimously. 

“Geesh… I was just trying to help.” 

“Rev and Tech don’t need our help,” Ace said. “By the looks of it, I think they’re just fine how they are.”

“Ugh, but it’s so pathetic. Are you telling me I’m gonna be forced to watch them do nothing about their obvious feelings and I can’t say anything about it?”

“Yes. That is exactly what I’m saying.” 

Duck looked to Lexi and Slam for support, but they were both clearly on Ace’s side. 

He threw his head back, moaning out, “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” 

Meanwhile, Rev and Tech couldn’t hear any of it, because they were too busy happily on their way to a late lunch.

~

Link to Magnetic Attraction Part 2 ->