#i’ve gotten into the habit of letting them have a nibble

[apollos-boyfriend]

apollo doesn’t like goiabinha i think i’m gonna have to put him down guys 😔

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Somewhere Between Hello and Goodbye | Ch. 3: The Lucky Day

Warning: This chapter contains mentions of an eating disorder and depression, please read with caution as topics may be triggering.

a/n: Alexa, play Daddy's Home <3 Anywho, OC's spiralling summer was inspired by Bella's montage of passing seasons in Twilight ... I'm sorry, but I need to preface that OC will be going through it this whole season, I have already cried thrice. Also, a side question, can you guys actually play the songs I post for these chapters? Meaning, does Tumblr let yall do that or am I trippin? Because I truly think they add a lot to the overall experience. If not, please let me know, then maybe I'll just turn them into a Spotify playlist.

Sleep has become my escape. A temporary withdrawal from reality in which I live to remember everything Jungkook has forgotten. Sleeping through each passing day, I know that at least in my dreams we are still together. In my dreams, I will always find my way back to you, Koo. Even if you don’t remember it, the moon knows that we were once in love. It hears my helpless cries at night and feels every atom of my being that misses you, fearing the idea of us becoming strangers once again. 

It’s as if my happiness was erased with his departure. Holding my hand through each step of the way, he showed me the beauty in life and ended up being the one to take it all away when my fearing heart failed to reciprocate the painfully obvious love tethered between us. Now, my life is dull and pointless. How can I love someone else when every night I dream of you, Koo?

Swallowing pills to mute the sound of my heart beating for his barest touch, I’ve become lost in my own mind, haunted by everlasting thoughts. Although I thought I would be able to at least pretend to be happy for the sake of my family, it’s all become too much. Thus, it was only a matter of days, before my deteriorating behaviour sparked concern in my parents, fueling tension in the air we shared. It all started with fatigue, which then transformed into chronic sleep and in the end began to affect my eating habits. Feeling nauseous from the mere thought of food, I’ve grown to dissociate myself from it. I was hungry, but I couldn’t eat. And, as my hope slowly diminished, so did the number on the scale. 

“Mira, you have to eat,” my mom’s voice echoes in my ear as my eyes fixate on the plate of steamed broccoli in front of me. 

“I’m not hungry, I told you,” I sigh, swallowing down the lie with some water. 

“Mira, honey, please talk to us. What’s wrong?” my dad asks softly, placing his hand on top of mine. Hearing the trembles in his words, my eyes swell with tears before I shake myself out of it.

“I’m fine … just feeling a bit under the weather,”

“The sun has been at its highest peak this whole time, what’s seasonal about this?” my mom tries to remain composed as she shifts her chair closer to mine. 

“Talk to me, honey. What’s gotten into you? You were so excited to come back,” her hands caress my tangled hair as I nibble on the dead skin on my lip. 

“Mira, you’ve been silent since you came, and now you won’t even eat. Your mom and I can’t bear to see you like this,” 

“Come back home, Miraya. We can find another university here,”

“No. It’s not that. I’m fine, I swear. I just … I just need this break to end already, so I can focus on my studies again. That’ll keep my mind occupied,” I whisper softly, attempting to fake a smile as my empty gaze searches their scattering eyes. Recently, that's how most of our conversations ended. With helpless promises feeding my delusions. However, with each passing day, I come to realise that promises are nothing more than sweet lies. If it weren’t true, I wouldn’t have to find excuses for the aching feeling in my heart, but rather, melt in the overflowing passion of Jungkook’s burning love. 

Excusing myself, I throw away the cold plate of food and head back to my room, one which was once filled with laughter and a carefree sense of ambition. The same walls that watched me cry out of happiness upon receiving my acceptance letter just a few months ago are the ones that now echo my pathetic cries for help. Every inch of this room has become cold and numb, and I’m afraid that there is no more warmth in me that could fix this. 

Crouched in a fetal position as my body shivers under the floral duvet my mom gifted me as a welcome present, I dial Jimin’s phone number. It has been weeks since he moved back to Busan, but I have yet to receive any updates from him about Jungkook. In hindsight, maybe, it’s for the best, but if silence is the thing that'll save me then why do I still hold onto the smallest glimpse of hope for us? Even if it means walking across a minefield of rejected possibilities that would ultimately send me into a never-ending spiral, why do I still care?

“How is he?” I ask with hesitation. 

“Different. He’s different.” Jimin replies softly. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, he seems distant. Which is fair, I guess. But, he doesn’t quite seem to remember me,” 

“At all?” my voice shakes as I choke up. 

“Well no, he is still able to recover our memories from when we were kids, but recent events are very blurry,” Jimin goes on. 

I, was recent to Jungkook. We, were recent to him. Four months, that's how long I've known Koo, but I’ve been missing him for the last seven. Each day I daydream, reminiscing our memories, feeling the void in my heart knowing that I’ve been without him longer than I’ve been with him. Maybe, Mrs. Jeon was right. I would be lying if I said that a little part of me didn’t think that the reason for her ultimatum was purely based on a simple dislike of me. You know? Like, she didn’t see me as a good match for her son? Because, even then, her disapproval of my character would have been an easier pill to swallow than knowing that now, in Koo’s empty eyes, I’m no longer his Peaches, but a stranger. God, it hurts to even say it out loud let alone accept it. I can’t accept it, but I have to now, don’t I?

“Please take care of him for me Jiminah,” I manage to let out, wiping the tears rolling down my face. 

“I will Mira, don’t worry. I’ll see you soon, okay?” 

“See you,” I end the call, throwing my phone across the bed, my puffy eyes irritated by the brightness. 

That night was especially hard. Although my body was desperately wanting to succumb to the exhaustion, my mind wouldn't shut up. It kept replaying our memories, reminding me of the things I should have said. The words Koo never heard, but deserved to.

--

Hugging my mom, her trembling hands tighten their hold on my sweater as I take in the smell of her perfume for the last time. I missed her a lot, and the guilt of putting my parents through that torture has been eating me alive this whole summer. All they wanted was to see their daughter smile and I failed to fulfill even the simplest of their wishes. If only they knew how much I wanted to smile again. 

“Mira, I’m telling you again, we can find another university here,” my mom says with teary eyes. 

“Just say yes, and we’ll deal with all the transfer stuff, honey,” my dad joins, caressing my palms, as I let out a soft chuckle before shaking my head no. 

“That’s not fair. You guys didn’t raise a quitter,” I manage to let out, feeling my throat tighten from the build-up of emotions. 

“You’re right, we didn’t. But, even the strongest soldier needs a shoulder to cry on. Remember that we are and always will be by your side, Miraya,”

“Call us as soon as you land, love,” 

Passing through the airport security, I wave to my family my last goodbyes before heading to my gate. Am I excited to come back to Seoul? I don’t really have a choice, do I? That God-awful Nursing degree won’t finish itself, so yeah, I kind of have to go back. But, I know that school isn’t the only thing pulling me back. I know I can’t, but I still wish to see Jungkook, even from afar, it doesn’t matter. All I want now is to know that he is doing well.  

I’m not sure how, but as soon as my head rested against the seat my body shut down, falling into a much-needed sleep. I probably would have slept through the whole 12-hour flight if it weren’t for the bright beams of sunlight penetrating through my heavy eyelids. Taking a glimpse out the airplane window, I no longer saw snowy mountains but rather blossoming fields of greenery scattered within the busy cities of Korea. And, as the captain went through his ending speech, a flood of international students lined up near the exit, eager to get back into their previously established routine. It’s funny because I was sitting next to one of my cohort members from last semester, but we were both too tired to even realise. 

Nonetheless, putting my passport and ticket back into my carry on, I rolled my luggage down the escalator before a familiar voice called out my name. Searching the crowd of strangers filled with overwhelmed emotions, my eyes stop at a particular boxy smile. 

“Long time no see, Flip-flops!” Tae shouted across the hall, before waving me down to where he was standing with Jiah and Jimin who were just as excited about my arrival. Feeling my eyes swell with tears, I couldn’t help but laugh at his cute, little dance as he pulled me into a warm hug. 

“Tae, I’m certain you just don’t know my actual name,” I say with a grin, looking up at his sparkling eyes. 

“Of course, I do MJ,” he grins, rubbing the top of my head. Ha ha ha, isn’t he just a comedian? For context, my government name is Mira Jean … hence, the birth of MJ. 

“That’s enough, let us hug her too,” Jiah chuckles, opening her arms as my body virtually melts into her embrace. With tears rolling down our faces, her grip tightens around my form as she lets out a sudden gasp. 

“Mira! My goodness, why are you so small?” she asks with a concerned tone, her wide eyes scanning my body. Although, I always managed to maintain my normal weight, I guess, not eating properly for 3 months left its mark on the way I looked. As the numbers on the scale decreased, I became more and more fixated on the protrusion of my bones. I hated the feeling, but, I also couldn’t stop. Because I couldn’t get myself to eat, I relied on baggy clothes to create an illusion that would satisfy people’s perception of me. Unfortunately, I failed to fool Jiah as she saw right through the act. 

“I just stopped eating so much junk food, I’m fine. Trust me, this is a good thing Jiah, now I can finally fit into my favourite pair of jeans,” I try to laugh the pain away, caressing her hands as her furrowed eyebrows slowly release their tension. She isn’t convinced but also, doesn’t want to create a scene in public. I know that follow-up questions will be brought up along the way, but for now, my attention is focused on looking for someone who I know isn’t there. It’s silly, but before spotting Tae, a little part of me hoped to see Jungkook. To witness his sparkling doe eyes and bunny teeth, once again, like the good old times.  

“Okay, it’s settled, we are all going to my favourite Korean BBQ place,” Jimin exclaims, giving me a quick wink before grabbing both of the luggage out of my hands, and handing one to Tae. And, as Jiah intertwines her hands with mine, we exchange soft smiles exiting the airport as my skin finally feels the fresh, humid air of Seoul. Stopping mid-walk, I let out a deep sigh of relief. I hated every second of my summer, it was nothing short of pure torture but, at least, it too passed. 

“You’re good?” Tae whispers, softened gaze focused on my flushed cheeks. 

“Yeah,” I say softly, taking another deep breath as his arm caresses my shoulder. 

“He’s fine, Mira,” his words pierce through my ears as I unconsciously shoot him an alarming look. 

“You’ve heard from him?” I rush my words, anticipating his answer as my chest heaves up. 

“No, but I can feel your pain,” his tone is quieter now, eyes still searching mine. 

“I’m fine, Tae,” I mumble under my breath, lowering my head in fear of breaking down in front of them. 

“Just know that I’m always here for you, okay?” he says, pressing a soft kiss on my head before wrapping his arm around my shoulders. If only he could hear the way I’m screaming inside. The way I’m calling out for help. For someone to find hope in my hopeless state of mind. If only he knew how much I miss Jungkook. 

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Following the tradition, I will be hosting my annual house party before school beats all of our asses,” Jimin chuckles, caressing Jiah’s hand as their eyes focus on each other. Forcing down some dumpling soup into my system, I feel nauseous, but can’t risk growing Jiah's suspicion more, so I attempt to eat as little as possible without her noticing. 

“So, Mira, please come. Jungkook will be there as well,” Jimin continues with a soft smile which slowly fades upon noticing my gaze drop. Letting go of my spoon, my fingernails dig into my cold palms, as I’m back at square one. How am I supposed to face him when I can’t even handle the mere mention of his name? It’s not fair. None of them know about Mrs. Jeon’s ultimatum, and I fear that I can’t just simply tell them. So, I gulp down the pain and manage to put on another act, one that I seem to have mastered over the summer. 

“Mira, you’re okay?” Jiah asks, gently rubbing my forearm. 

“Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit jet-lagged. Sure, of course, I’ll come,” I reply with a reassuring smile, before looking at Tae. I recognize the sadness in his eyes because I see it in my own every passing minute. But, I can’t let him in. I can’t betray Mrs. Jeon’s trust, again. Even if it means that I have to betray my own heart.

--

We’ve been walking around the mall for probably 3 hours now and Jiah has yet to find something with that wow factor, meanwhile, I have already found 4 of the nearest exits. The party is set for tonight, and although I have already agreed to come, I can’t get myself to actually face the consequences. I can’t go, what was I thinking. What? Did I think everything was going to be fine once Jungkook saw me? Mira, he doesn’t remember you. 

“Jiah, you know, I really don’t think I should go tonight?” I say, slowly walking in circles as she eyes another mini dress. 

“What? Why?” she stutters, going through racks of possible options. 

“I’m just not feeling well,” I lie, fiddling with my fingers to calm down the nerves. 

“Mira, is something wrong?” Jiah stops what she’s doing before walking closer to my anxious self. 

“I’m fine, really,” I lie again. 

“You don’t look fine. You barely eat, barely sleep, barely talk to me,” she exclaims with a  tone firmer than before. 

“Then stop looking. Please, can everyone just leave me alone? I’m just tired, okay?” I burst, feeling everyone’s eyes on my distressed self. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. What do you need?” she says gently, reaching out her hands.  

“I just need space,” I whisper, crossing my arms in front of my burning chest. 

“Fine, I’ll give you some space. Please call me when you’re ready,” Jiah’s words cut deep as she walked out of the store, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The ones I’ve been trying to run away from this whole time. I can’t even get mad at her. She is only trying to help, but how can she when I keep shutting everyone out? It’s all my fault, I know. I just hope that this isn’t how it ends. I hope I don’t push everyone away, and someone sees right through the mask I put on. Because I’m so lost. I don’t know what to do or who to talk to.

Locking the door behind me I plop onto my bed before finally resting my heavy eyes. And, within minutes, I’m passed out again. I think, I've grown to become eternally tired, no matter how much I sleep, there is just no end to this fatigue. Moving restlessly, I pull the white cover over my shivering body before hearing my phone ring. 

“Ugh, what is it now?” I grunt, squinting from the screen brightness as a small gasp escapes my parted lips. It was 8 pm already. How is that possible? I swear, I just laid my head. But, no, apparently I’ve been asleep for the last 5 hours. 

“Hello?” I manage to let out. 

“Flip-flops? Where are you?” Tae screams through the loud music in the background. 

“Tae, I’m home. What happened?” 

“Mira hurry, Jiah is drunk. You need to come pick her up,” he exclaims with panic in his voice. 

“What? Where’s Jimin? Can he not drive her?” I stutter, lifting myself off of the bed before putting my hoodie back on. 

“You want him to drive under the influence? Of course, he is drunk too,” 

“Well, why can’t you drive them?” I whine, almost pleading. 

“Who said I wasn’t drunk either?” he chuckles, sending me a flying kiss through the phone. 

“Fine, I’ll be there in a bit. Keep an eye on Jiah,” I sigh before grabbing my keys and ID. 

Thankfully, Jimin’s place wasn’t that far from our dormitory so, the ride there was only 10-ish minutes. Nonetheless, I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. And, as the driver finally pulled up to the apartment complex I practically ran inside. Following the sound of loud music, I made my way through the crowd of people who clearly had a little too much fun, as the alcohol in their system could be detected from the next block. 

“Flip-flops!” Tae exclaimed with a big grin. Stopping in my tracks, my eyes diverted to Jiah, who was standing beside him with absolutely no sign of a hangover. In fact, she looked better than ever in her new mini-dress. 

“What? You lied?” I snap, eyebrows furrowing more and more with each step I take towards them. 

“How else was I supposed to get you to come?” Tae chuckles, trying to rub my head before I push his hand away. 

“Get off me,” my tone is harsh as I lower my piercing gaze, shaking my head in disbelief. 

“Oh! Mira, there you are,” I could hear Jimin’s voice getting closer before turning my flushed face. And with that, it felt like time stopped altogether. There was nothing and no one in the room except for him and I. Koo and I. Feeling my gaze soften, I choke up from the rush of emotions in my throat. 

“Hi, I’m Jungkook. It’s nice to meet you,” he says with a warm smile, reaching out his hand as if meeting me for the first time. Before replying, I take a moment to analyze his face. The one I dreamed about every night and the one that caused me so much pain. He looks the same, except, his eyes no longer sparkle like they used to. I guess, we got that in common. 

“Hi …I’m Mira,” I let out a soft smile, before reaching out my own hand. 

“Yah, Kook, you already know her, you guys were best friends,” Jimin chuckles, patting Jungkook’s back.

“Oh, I’m sorry, please forgive me. I'm still trying to piece everything back together,” Koo says, covering his mouth before shutting his eyes from embarrassment. 

Feeling my throat tighten, I quickly excuse myself, before rushing out of the packed room towards the nearest fire escape. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but why does it feel like I’m going to pass out? It’s as if all the air was knocked out of my lungs. Feeling lightheaded I hold onto the railing and close my eyes for a moment. I can’t believe it. Koo, I saw you but you didn’t see me. You saw a stranger. And, suddenly, there I was, alone again, realizing that everything I feared had come true.

Regaining my composure, I decide to walk back to the party before my eyes are met with his. 

“Not a party animal, huh?” Jungkook grins, stopping in his tracks as his arm leans against the wall. 

“It’s my day off,” I let out a small chuckle, unable to keep his eye contact. 

“So … we were best friends?” he asks softly, hands fidgeting with the chains on his belt. 

“Yeah …” I nod slightly, nibbling on my lips. 

“It’s funny because I don’t remember anything from last year. I could barely recognize my own dad for a while. Jimin helped me a lot, he basically recalled sparknotes of my past for me,” he laughs. Oh, how I missed his laugh.  

“You really don’t remember anything?” I finally look up, searching his scattering eyes. 

“No, not one bit,” his muffled words are interrupted by the growling sound coming from my stomach, as I let out an awkward smile. 

“Oh, are you hungry?” he grins, bunny teeth on full display, as my gaze softens again. 

“No, no, no, I’m fine. I think I’m gonna head home now,” I shake my hands, zipping my hoodie before attempting to walk past him. 

“No, it’s fine, I’ll drive. I’m starving as well,” Jungkook assures, gently pulling onto the fabric as my heart sinks to my feet.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I agreed. I couldn’t say no to Koo. Not, after all the sleepless nights I’ve spent missing his mere presence. And, as we entered the nearest restaurant, everything felt real. He felt real. Even if he couldn’t feel it, my heart was beating for the both of us. For our first hellos, last goodbyes and everything in between. Just for tonight, I wanted to pretend like nothing happened. 

“Oh, look, Mira, they have a special deal on shrimp dumplings, do you like them?” his voice, brings me back to reality as I mute the thoughts running through my head. 

“Yeah, my mom made them for me all the time when I was little,” I smile. 

“Then, I guess it’s your lucky day,” he chuckles with a satisfied grin, before calling one of the waiters. 

“I guess, it is,” I say softly, feeling my throat tighten as I struggle to swallow the lie. Searching his naive eyes my own swell with tears while my body shifts restlessly in the seat. Desperately wanting to cave into the emotions, my mind is haunted by the thoughts of Mrs. Jeon’s letter. And, as I close my eyes for a moment, all I can see are the painful reminders of our enforced distance. Don’t call … Don’t write … Don’t interact. Yet, here we are, here you are, Koo. Live in the flesh, separated by a table and the forgotten story of our past. So close, yet so far that it physically hurts. To him, I’m just another piece of the puzzle that would fill the void in his memories. But, to me, he is the only piece that could make me whole again. 

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[bellatrixobsessed1]

Skin & Scale (Part 5)

It is doubly sweltering in the jungles of the Fire Island. Even beneath the shade of the shuddering canopy, heat waves seem to ripple from the ground up. Beneath them, swarms of insects mostly dragonfly and mosquito seem to thrive. Beetle shells shimmer in shades of orange and red as they scuttle up the palm trees and over mossy rocks. Azula might have been pleased to be out in the scalding heat were it not for her steadily worsening aches. The pangs that seem to grow worse with each hour spent searching the jungle. She pushes a cluster of vines aside and tries to do the same for all of the sensations radiating throughout her body. Really, she would rather curl up on her bed and squeeze her eyes shut until her body stops troubling her. 

The others are making merry conversation, but she can’t concentrate on it, let alone enough to partake when they try to engage her. All she can think about is the throbbing in her head, the pangs crawling along her spine, and the merciless cramping in her abdomen. 

She doesn’t know which portion of her body to clutch and try to will the pain out of. 

She knows that this isn’t like her; to stagger behind, visibly hindered by an ailment. That could be why Zuko looks so concerned. He calls for the rest of the group to slow down and Azula’s cheeks flush. How truly humiliating it is to be the one that is holding everyone back. 

She grits her teeth, a bead of sweat trickles down her temple. She leans heavily against one of the palm trees.

She wants to push onwards but she is growing woozy, feeling weak and rather nauseous. 

“Azula, are you alright.” 

Right now her limbs feel heavy, her bones are too big for her muscles. 

She finds herself sliding down the tree’s trunk. “Water.” 

She isn’t sure which one of them passes the waterskin. Her vision is kind of fuzzy. She has her drink and shakes her head, trying to clear it of the blackness on the fringes of her sight. She closes her eyes, just for a moment. Spirits, her entire body is turning against her. Ultimately she opts to rest her hand against her abdomen, right now that is where it hurts the most. She winces.

It can’t be heat stroke, she never gets heatstroke.

Azula, after a few more rather greedy gulps, passes the waterskin back. She supposes that she feels at least a little better but the aches don’t subside, not even slightly. The dizziness is retracting though. 

“Maybe we should take her home?” This suggestion comes from a voice that is unmistakably the Avatar’s. “I can get her to Appa and take her there and come back for all of you to continue searching.”

“I don’t want to go home.” Azula protests. “I know more about dragons and their habits than the rest of you. I–”

“And you can tell us everything that we need to know.” Katara cuts in. 

“Write it down, we brought plenty of parchment.” Sokka adds. “And you can help us search the neighboring islands when you feel better. Those will be much more challenging anyways.”

Azula’s brows pinch. She sticks out her lower lip. “I’m fine, I’ll be fine.” 

“Yeah, sparky, that’s what you said on that other mission. The one where we were fending off a horde of angry spirits. And then what happened?”

As she recalls, she had gotten beaten within an inch of her life and finally the rest of the group started treating her like a person. It had only taken a copious spilling of blood for them to realize that she is a human being who can bleed and suffer. “That’s not going to happen here. The only spirits I’ve seen here have been those really annoying ones…the tiny things that like to nibble at your ears.” 

“You don’t need to be fighting spirits to over-exert yourself.” Aang points out. 

“This is a very mundane hike. I’ve ascended mountains, chasing after the lot of you. This shouldn’t be a problem…I should…” she tightens her grip on her abdomen.

Katara furrows her brows. “Azula, can I talk to you for a second? Alone.”

“I don’t need a motherly conversation.”

“Actually, I think that you do.” She waits for the others to leave before asking, and asking quite bluntly, “Azula have you…have you bled yet?”

The question makes her squirm inside and she does her best to keep that to herself. “Assuming that you don’t mean from stab wounds, no.” She grits her death. “I feel like I’m dying.” 

“Yeah, that’s the basic gist of it.” Katara chuckles. “You feel like you’re dying but you’ll be fine. You’ll just have to deal with cramps, mood swings, bloating, headaches…” they symptoms go on and on. “For a week.” 

But it has been a little more than a week now and the bleeding, as far as she knows, hasn’t even started. She rubs her hand over her face because, according to Katara, that is pretty typical too. Still, the waterbender doesn’t have any answers as to why every bone in her body feels so heavy. Why the entirety of her spine feels stretched. Why her teeth hurt. These things, Katara is adamant, have nothing to do with her monthly blood. 

Even still, there is a part of her that is relieved–elated even–that she is finally getting it. Maybe she will finally be like everyone else. Maybe she will finally be taller, her face less soft…

“I think that we should still take you home…”

Azula scoffs. “Over something so benign!?”

“I don’t think that your monthly bleed is the only thing going on here.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know.” Katara admits. “That’s why I think that we should take you home. So you can see someone who might be able to tell you.” 

Azula sighs. “I suppose that I could return to the mainland. I highly doubt that we will find any trace of a dragon here on this first island. The landscape isn’t quite right. It’s too flat and there aren’t enough volcanoes…” She also can’t say that she doesn’t want to be in her own bed right now swaddled in puffy blankets with a cup of tea and plenty of cherry mochi. She could go for a warm bath too, a dip in the springs typically does wonders for strained muscles and the cramps that she is used to. 

Katara holds out a hand. “Need help up?”

Azula ignores the hand and rises to her own feet. 

“Guess that, that answers that.” She grumbles. 

Azula dusts herself off and…nearly collapses again. Her legs buckle beneath her. Agni, her muscles feel like mush. Katara catches her before she can plant her face into the mud below. Maybe her bones truly are getting heavier because Katara doesn’t make holding her upright look easy. She tries to stand on her own, at least a little bit. But, spirits, she feels so, so weak and those aches are becoming a lot sharper. There is a potent throbbing in her teeth, it shoots all the way up to her temples and beats behind her eyes worsening the pounding that was already in her head. 

And that itching, that horrible itching is back, it is creeping up her arms and it has nothing to do with the bugs. 

She winces. 

If there was any doubt that she was going to be sent right back home it was cleared when she uttered a small whimper. Azula doesn’t whimper. She knows that Katara is well aware that she isn’t doing so splendidly at all.

“You’re going to be alright, Azula.” She promises. “You can just go home and rest, enjoy the royal spa, eat lots of mochi. We’ve got this one.”

“You’re all a bunch of idiots.”

“We’re idiots who managed to save the world before. We can do it again. Just tell us everything you think we’ll need to know about dragons.”

“But–” 

Just a few days ago, she was complaining to herself that she always has to do all of the work. Now that they are taking that work away from her she feels so small and useless. 

“Think of it as a vacation. Maybe you can even go to Ember Island for a bit. You can see Chan again…”

“That’s a punishment, not a vacation.” She grumbles. 

Katara chuckles. “Would you rather wander aimlessly around a jungle–which you said was pointless anyways. Or would you rather take some time to come up with a plan while you rest so that you can help us fend off a dragon attack?”

Azula mulls it over. The woman’s words are so careful, clever, and convincing. She must admit that she is proud. 

“We’ve got this one.” She promises again.

[sweetnsour1]

5:39:01

Spicy fluff, Bakugou x female reader, Part 1/4

Part of the Cute as hell collection

“What do you wanna talk about?”

That was an excellent question. Everything between the two of you had been off center. Your routine had just slowly gotten kind of worse while you two were busy with missions…by the time you really noticed it had been weeks.

“Um…” you fidgeted with the spinner ring on your thumb. It whirred while you stayed silent. He crossed his arms to keep himself from reaching out to you.

“You sick of me or somethin’?”

You froze. The ring stopped and you laughed.

“It’s actually kind of the opposite, handsome.” He relaxed a bit, dropped his arms and this time he didn’t hesitate to grab your hand. He kissed your palm before placing it against his chest.

“Then what’s the fuckin’ problem, brat?” His body was relaxed, but he was frowning…worry lines creased his forehead below the mask that was shoved up past his hairline.

“It’s just-it’s just been a while since I’ve sat on your face.” He laughed and then laughed harder when he saw you were actually pouting.

“Fuckin’ hell. Ya scared me for a minute.”

“Don’t laugh! I’m serious.” You turned your head away from him, letting out a huff that could rival one of his own. He grabbed your chin and turned you back to face him. You moaned softly at the look he was giving you. He was grinning in that hungry way of his.

“Sorry, you’re absolutely right. This is a serious problem. Let’s fix it.” He licked his lips.

“Uh huh.” You were nearly panting with excitement as he pushed up against you, leaving no room between you and the wall. You whined as he started licking and nibbling his way down your neck. He grabbed the back of your thighs and pulled your legs up. You wrapped them around his waist, easily falling back into your broken habits.

“Good girl.”

He kissed you before you could finish groaning at the praise. He slid one hand to grope your ass support you, while the other fisted into your hair. You broke the kiss, knowing he needed to see to get you to the bedroom. His gauntlets had been tossed somewhere in the hall. You pulled his costume to the side to start kissing and nibbling where no one but you (and maybe other heroes at his agency) would see the marks. He laughed when you bit down a little harder than usual.

“Mmmmm fuck, you really are upset huh? Didn’t I just fuck you this morning?”

“Uh huh, but we didn’t have time to do everything I wanted.” He grunted in agreement before dropping you on the bed. You bounced at the impact and glared up at him.

“Oh calm down. We both know you like it rougher than that, y/n.”

He wasn’t wrong, but fuck you were riled up. You’d have to make time to spar with him tomorrow. It had been a while since someone had knocked him on his ass.

“What? Wanna fight me? Thought you wanted to take a seat.” He was smiling and leaning over you. His strong arms caged you in and…fuck you loved this man.

Part 2 and Part 3 and Part 4

Masterlist

[broadwayloserstuff]

Jason Dean x Female! Reader Smut

So, y’all this is the third fic I’ve written today and I’m close to tears because people actually are liking my posts and I never feel this appreciated??? Like, y’all are amazing. Anyways, uh yeah I got a request for Jason Dean. Love the man tbh. It was never specified for what gender the reader is but I only have experience with AFAB anatomy. If the anon requester wanted a male reader, just send me an ask for a male reader and I’ll write it! So yeah this contains smut prompt 30 btw. WARNINGS: Smut, swearing, mentions of a gun and murder, and female reader being on the pill. So pretty much the usual JD shit. I’m pretty sure that’s it. As usual, if I missed something, feel free to let me know! MINORS DON’T INTERACT! JD looked down at the (your hair color) haired girl on his chest. Her (your eye color) eyes were focused on the movie that was playing. JD, however, could care less about the movie. After all, you could watch it as many times as you wanted. He was focused on her beauty. Y/N’s perfect lips were soft as velvet and he knew every part of her was absolute perfection. Anyone who thought otherwise met the business end of his gun. “Hey, darling,” he called. Y/N looked up into his dark brown eyes. “Hm?” she questioned. JD gave her his signature lopsided smile, “You’re so beautiful, my love.” Y/N lightly blushed. She may have gotten used to he boyfriend’s flirtatious manner but he still managed to fluster her.  Y/N had gotten used to a lot of her boyfriend’s habits over the last several months. She was no stranger to his bizarre hobby of murdering the horrible teens and college kids in Westerburg. She knew all about him murdering Heather Chandler, Kurt Kelly, and Ram Sweeney. Lately, he had killed a college sophomore who had actively preyed on high school freshman girls. JD often made good points on why he had killed his victims. Y/N, while she didn’t support it, still loved him.  She had also adjusted to JD’s clinginess. The man always had a hand on her waist or around her shoulder. He was afraid she’d up and leave him, just like his mother had done to him. Despite the late night phone calls where Y/N would constantly reassure JD that she would never leave him, he still refused to believe it. JD had moved Y/N so she now sat in his lap, her back against his chest as he peppered sweet kisses up and down her neck. Occasionally, he’d nibble at a spot then smirk as he felt Y/N tense up or her breathing begin to hitch. The both of them knew what he was trying to do and they both knew Y/N would give into him.  After a few more minutes of the movie, Y/N reached for the remote and shut the TV off. She let JD do what he wanted. After all, he was good in bed and Y/N knew damn well she wouldn’t be able to walk after tonight. She felt JD smirk against her neck as he sucked a hickey into her skin. Y/N sighed in pleasure and turned to meet his lips. As usual, his lips tasted like smoke and cigarettes. He bit her bottom lip, asking for entrance. Y/N playfully denied, wanting to tease him. JD didn’t seem to worry about this, however, because within a second he had shrugged out of his trench coat and t-shirt. Y/N took a moment to look at him. While he wasn’t ripped by any means, he definitely had some muscle but his lanky exterior suited his personality perfectly. Their lips met again, JD flipping them so he was on top. He pulled off the shirt Y/N wore and went back down on her, sucking even more hickeys and love bites into her skin, marking her as his.  All the while, Y/N ran her fingers through his raven black hair. She occasionally tugged at his hair, emitting a growl from JD. One hand held her neck while the other rested on Y/N’s waist. After a few minutes, JD pulled back and quickly examined his flustered girlfriend. He seemed to decide she was marked up enough at the moment and quickly got busy. JD yanked down the leggings Y/N wore and her panties in one swift move, tossing her bottoms off to the side. JD had seemingly decided to leave Y/N’s bra on, he liked her without her bra but in the moment, he had decided to leave it on.  He chuckled at her wetness, “All for me, doll? I’m honored.” Y/N bit her lip, trying to contain a beg. JD seemed to sense this and suddenly thrusted two fingers inside. Y/N let out a moan. “God, JD!” she cried. His free hand rubbed her clit slowly. After a few minutes, Y/N’s moans had gotten louder and she had began to beg. “P-please go faster, Jason,” she whined. He smirked at how bad she wanted him now. JD scissored his fingers and Y/N quickly reached her orgasm. JD let her ride out her high before pulling his fingers out and licking them, all while maintaining eye contact. He quickly yanked down his gray sweatpants and boxers. “You on the pill?” he quickly asked. Y/N hastily nodded and moaned as JD pushed himself in. JD let out a groan himself, “Fuck, always so tight, Y/N.” She only whined at his words as she adjusted to his size. JD pressed a kiss to her forehead as she said, “You can start moving now.” And boy did he. JD quickly picked up his pace and Y/N was screaming in no time. “JD, Jason, holy fuck!” JD picked up one of her legs and put it over his shoulder. By now, Y/N couldn’t even form coherent sentences. All she could manage were moans and broken words. She started clenching around JD’s dick and he leaned down, his head knocking against hers.  “Tell me you love me,” he ordered between pants. Y/N looked at him. “I love you, JD. I love you so much.”  With that, JD came and so did Y/N. The couple laid there for a few minutes, catching their breath. JD pulled out and yanked on his boxers and Y/N sleepily pulled on her panties. The couple curled up beneath a blanket, JD’s arms wrapped around Y/N’s waist.  Before Y/N fell asleep, JD kissed the top of her head and mumbled, “Don’t forget that you belong to me.” She sleepily replied, “Mm hmm.” JD seemed content with that and made himself comfortable and the couple slowly drifted off to dreamland.

[shoutaaizawas]

↳ keigo takami x fem!reader → ❝shiny things❞

summary: hawks has more bird-like tendencies than you initially thought. he likes to present you with odd items as gifts and finally you figure out why word count: 2,406 tags/warnings: fluff, hawks being a bird a/n: uhh i don’t know i love the bird man

sequel “preening”

masterlist

Dating Hawks was unusual for a list of reasons. He was a pro hero so that meant he was very busy, in the public eye, and couldn’t tell you everything. Then there was the way Hawks had been raised. After a while of dating, he trusted you enough to open up and tell you about his childhood. It shed a lot of light on the things he did in your relationship. But perhaps the least expected thing was his bird-like habits.

It wasn’t unusual for people with animal-like quirks the show similar traits to said animal. Selkie and Gang Orca came to mind although they looked more like their animal counterparts than Hawks did. Perhaps that was why you didn’t expect it from him.

At first, you thought he was joking. You had been dating for a while enough to know each other well enough to start to develop feelings. Hawks flew in to meet you for a coffee date in between work. The wind-blown hair and charming smile always made your heart skip a beat.

“Look what I found.” He said, his tone of voice sounded like an excited kid. He held out his hand present the shiny blue marble. You glanced up at him wondering if he was joking but he looked happy to present this offering. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt his feelings even if you didn’t quite understand.

“Wow, where’d you find this?” You asked taking it and holding it up in the light to examine it.

“I found it on patrol.” He said. “It was shining in the light and caught my eye. Don’t worry I washed it off.” He reassured. That almost made you laugh.

“It’s pretty.” You said. That wasn’t a lie, in its own way it was pretty but you could honestly say you had never met someone over the age of ten present a marble with such excitement.

“It’s for you.” He said with a smile that melted your heart. The sentiment wasn’t lost on you even if you were trying to wrap your head around it.

“Thank you, you’re too sweet.” You told him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

The next time that happened you were more prepared for it. It was a perfect day, the sky was clear, and the weather cool. The salty breeze from the ocean filled the air around you as you walked hand in hand with your boyfriend. The sun was sinking into the horizon leaving a beautiful sunset.

Hawks spotted something, his eyes widening as he let go of your hand and rushed forward. He leaned down picking up something from the ground. Brushing it off he stood and returned to your side.

“Look!” He said in an excited voice holding his open hand up to you. You smiled at the way his wings fluttered in excitement behind him.

“What is it?” You asked putting one hand underneath his as you looked. There was a small shiny green object, it almost looked like a rock.

“It’s a piece of sea glass! It’s normal glass that ends up in the ocean, it takes like fifty years of tumbling around in the water to look like this.” He said. Looking at it, it was pretty. The frosted texture was unique you realized as you picked it up. He closed your hand over it. “Keep it.” He smiled.

You smiled at him sliding the sea glass in your pocket for safekeeping. This wasn’t the last time that he gave you an odd gift with a genuine spirit. You always smiled when he presented the items with pride and excitement, his feathers puffed up.

It was a night that you were spending with Hawks at his fancy apartment when things started to make more sense. You had made him dinner and were enjoying a bottle of wine now.

Hawks wasn’t a drinker but since you met him you had gotten him to like wine. It wasn’t unusual for you to share a bottle. It always amused you the pink tint on his cheeks and how relaxed he got.

The view from Hawks balcony was nice, a perfect city skyline. The love seat there was comfy and so was your position resting against Hawks, one of his winds draped around you keeping you close and protecting you from the cold night. The candles lit around you gave off a dim glow.

You looked at your empty glass and his. As much as you didn’t want to get up you did want more wine so you would have to sacrifice your comfort for a moment.

“Let me get you more.” You said taking his glass in your hand before standing up. He made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact.

“I can get it.” He said. You leaned forward pressing a kiss against his lips, your free hand grazing his cheek.

“Let me, relax here. I’ll be right back.” You said before walking into the apartment. You entered his nice kitchen grabbing the bottle on the counter. There was enough for one glass. You looked at the full bottle on the counter. It wouldn’t hurt to open up another, you could always save the rest if you didn’t finish it.

Opening a drawer you looked for the wine opener. This one had normal utensils in it. The one below it had towels. It was the third drawer down that was odd.

It was full of random items, rocks, stray earrings, buttons, and other odds and ends. It wasn’t your usual junk drawer. All of the items had a certain shine to them. Your mind was immediately pulled to the random things Hawks had presented to you so happily.

You let out a small gasp as it all clicked. He was a bird. Well, not literally but it seemed he shared more traits with the animal than you had originally guessed. Looking at all the items you knew that he cared for them enough to keep them in his house.

A smile met your lips thinking about how excited he always was as he handed you the shiny thing he had found. It was so sweet that he gave them to you instead of keeping it for his own collection. Had he even been keeping anything for himself since he met you?

Your heart felt full as you closed the drawer and looked for the wine opener. Hawks was already so sweet and somehow this odd quirk of his added on to it.

Returning to the balcony you sat down next to him handing him his glass before pulling him in for a deep kiss. Your free hand tangled in his feathers and you could feel him sigh against your lips.

“What was that for?” He questioned pulling back with pink cheeks and a content smirk.

“Nothing, I just really like you.” You smiled.

“Well, I really like you too.” He said before pulling you in for another kiss.

“So I gave her this shiny rock and she was so happy, I love the way she smiles when I give her stuff.” Hawks gushed about you to Mirko often. The rabbit hero was patient in listening to him but would often roll her eyes at how head over heels he was.

“Wait, so you’re telling me the kind of gifts you’ve been giving her are shiny rocks and marbles?” She questioned. “Please don’t tell me you’ve stolen french fries from tourists to give to her.” Hawks gave her a questioning look.

“I always give her the shiny stuff I find now.” He said.

“And she hasn’t dumped you?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Wow, she must really like like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“A lot of girls like shiny things but they usually prefer bracelets, necklaces, rings, or even cars if you’re really trying to spoiler her. Maybe a designer pair of shoes or a purse.” She said thoughtfully. “Most girls would have left by now if they were given shiny debris from their boyfriend.”

Hawks stood there frozen trying to process what she was saying.

“Trust me, I get it, Hawks. The animal tendencies can be strong but you have to recognize them and adjust. Find a way to fill that urge but in a way that your partner will appreciate more.”

“I didn’t even realize it.” Hawks said in a quiet voice. “Oh no she’s probably hated all the stuff I’ve been giving her and has just been nice to me.” He groaned.

Mirko patted him on the shoulder.

“Happens to the best of us. I nibbled on my first crushes sleeve. There are some things you’ll never forget how embarrassing they were.” She sighed, staring off in her memory.

“That’s rough.” Hawks said. “I’m just glad you told me before she got too weirded out. I really like her, I don’t want to ruin it with her.”

“That’s what friends are for to help you with your blind spots.” She explained. “And Hawks, if she stuck around this long I don’t think you’re scaring her off with shiny marbles.” She teased.

Hawks felt so embarrassed. He had no relationship experience. His childhood had not been a normal one, he didn’t go to middle school or high school. He didn’t go on awkward dates or take someone to prom. It was uncharted territory. He never even intended on dating anyone his life was too complicated then he met you and every excuse he had to date someone was out the window.

He had to make it up to you, he had to explain himself but he was trying to figure out the best way to do that. He recalled you telling him a story about earrings that you had really wanted to buy once at a boutique on vacation but you had ended up not buying them for one reason or another. He had made note of that hoping to look for one similar to what you described but hadn’t gotten around to it.

Now was finally his time, surprisingly it wasn’t that hard to find something that matched your description. He hoped it was close enough for you. Hawks texted you asking if he could come over tonight when you were home and you agreed.

After patrol, he picked up your favorite take out and headed over to your place. He landed on the balcony walking in as you told him he could. You sat on the couch wearing a cute pair of sweatpants and a sweater.

“Hey, babe.” You said standing up and walking over to him, greeting him with a kiss.

“Hey, little bird.” He said returning the kiss.

“Is that what I think it is?” You questioned.

“Your favorite.” He smiled. The two of you sat down at the couch opening up the bag of food and digging in.

“What’s the special occasion?” You asked as you finished up your food.

“I wanted to talk.” He answered, immediately he saw you face drop. “Nothing bad, I promise.”

“Oh.” You sighed in relief.

“Actually I wanted to apologize.” He started, his wings looked tense.

“For what?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The gifts I’ve given you, my friend pointed out that they’re weird and not something you should give your girlfriend.

“Hawks-” You tried to interrupt but he continued.

“I’m sorry, it’s just something I’ve done since I was a kid. I see something shiny and I take it, I’ve had a collection forever and I don’t know I never questioned it until Mirko pointed it out. I just would always get so excited when I saw stuff I kept it. When I started dating you I’d see something and I would think this is so pretty I have to share it with her, I don’t want to keep it to myself-”

“Hawks.” You said taking his hand in yours. “Don’t apologize. Look.”

He watched as you leaned to your coffee table grabbing the small box on it and setting it in between the two of you. Opening it he realized it was full of all the things he had given you.

“I’ll admit I was a little confused at first but even then I saw how happy you were and it was so cute. How could I deny or be upset about you giving me something that made you so happy.” You explained, brushing your hand over the piece of sea glass he gave you. “Eventually I figured it out, I saw the drawer at your place and I put it together. Honestly, the fact that you gave me these means far more than expensive jewelry would mean to me.”

Hawks stared at you in disbelief. How had he ever found someone as amazing as you? He fought the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. You had understood him without him ever having to explain.

“Actually, I just remembered.” You said standing up and moving to your purse by the door. You looked through it for a moment before finding what you were looking for. Sitting down you held your hand out presenting a shiny vintage key. “I saw this today at a little store I stopped at on my break. I don’t know if it will fit into your collection but-”

Before you could even finish your sentence Hawks had nearly tackled you into a kiss. His arms wrapped around you pulling you close as his wings fluttered. He pulled back looking into your eyes.

“I love you.” The words came out before he could stop them. He already felt so much for you but this had pushed it over the edge.

“Keigo, I-I love you too.” You returned not expecting anything that had just happened.

“I got you a gift, a proper gift this time.” He said reaching into his pocket. “The earrings you talked about, I hope they are close enough to the ones you wanted.”

“Keigo, they’re perfect.” You said pulling him in for another kiss. “Thank you.”

Hawks was more than just a pretty face and you had seen through that. Getting to know him, the real him, not the person the media presented or the child that had been raised into a weapon, was something you had enjoyed. Not only did you get to know the real Hawks but you had fallen deeply in love with him, bird traits, and all.

taglist:  @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bakugousidehoe @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh  @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia

[tangledinmdzs]

Your writing is a blessing and it's addicting! It's ok if you ignore this so what do the Lan Bros and/or Nie Bros think of an s/o with animal ears and tail?

hi hi

is this like a hybrid au? hm i've never written something like this before but i'm very intrigued; i've played around with your request just a little bit, going for more platonic vibes~

here's to you!

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Lan Xichen & Lan Wangji

it’s the endearing habit that had first gotten Lan Xichen’s attention,

the way that you wrinkle your nose whenever you have a query or when you’re thinking hard about something

add that with your big doe eyes

and it’s not too hard for his heart to combust at the sight,

Lan Wangji, not as easily swooned by your cute antics

is a bit more intrigued by the way that you act

from nibbling your food,

to skipping (nearly hopping) everywhere rather than walking

and the way that you tend to thump your left foot whenever you were impatient

small tiny things, that would seem normal to anyone, was making Lan Wangji suspicious

because there were times when you acted way more like a bunny than a human

it had always been a question in the back of Lan Wangji’s mind, were you really human? 

now, sat at the floor of the Hanshi, with your fluffy floppy bunny ears on your head and a definite puff of tail to match

Lan Wangji can’t believe that he’d been right

Lan Xichen standing beside him, seems to be having a hard time processing (and holding himself back from pinching your cheeks)

“you can pat them, if you want,” 

Lan Xichen startles and you smile with your eyes, mimicking patting your own ears,

Lan Xichen is the first to approach you, kneels in front of you and stares at the way the white fur of your ears stands out from your dark hair,

his hand reaches out, gentle hands on your ears

Lan Xichen beams, smiles as you relax under his touch

“are you... a spirit of some sort?” Lan Wangji questions you, while you’re sat in this half bunny state that you’re in you play with the sleeves of your robes, shrugging

“i’ve always been able to go back and forth between a bunny and a human but never half like this...” 

and this was a new experience for everyone,

but with how soft and cute your ears were on your head, Lan Xichen can’t bring it in himself to worry too much

Nie Mingjue & Nie Huaisang

you’ve always had a really interesting temperament,

ever since you had shown up to the Unclean Realm

you acted exactly like the cat that used to roam the training grounds before your arrival,

a calico cat

Mingjue chalks it up to coincidence that your appearance matched the disappearance of their fluffy friend

Huaisang was on a different wavelength entirely,

he’d thought that it was bad luck that you had arrived, since the calico cat, whom he’d dearly named Love had suddenly disappeared

but little did the brothers know

that you and the calico cat were one and the same

you’d planned to keep this little secret to yourself,

but alas, 

you’d woken up one day in a hybrid state from the stress of the secret 

and your suddenly take to hiding had caused a worried Mingjue and a curious Huaisang to come and find you,

“y-you...” Huaisang stutters out as Mingjue crosses his arms and stares quizzically at the ears on your head and the way your tail was swishing back and forth anxiously behind you

“i’m sorry... i’ve kept such an important secret from you... i’ve over extended my stay...” you apologize making to leave as you usually had to once your secret was found out

“where do you think you’re going?” Mingjue questions when you drop your feet to the floor,

you look up in surprise, 

“you’re welcomed here, y/n. your appearance or what you are doesn’t change that,” Mingjue reassures you and you can’t help but let a relieved tear fall out of your eyes

you’re even more surprised when you get your first hug from Huaisang, who smiles against your hair,

“you should have told me your were Love all along,” 

“well now you know,” you say smiling up at him

[ko-riacchi]

Live Stream

Pairing: Shigaraki x F!Reader Genre: Smut, Angst Length: 4,3k

WARNINGS: NONCON! 

Thank you to @cultbabyyy who read through it as soon as I was done  And thank you to @kazooli whose fics made me realize that I can write whatever the fuck I want

(Inspired by Yagami Yato’s Shigaraki Pt.3 audio)

Tomura was a man-child. Which meant that when he had a new toy, he couldn’t help himself but to rub it in other people’s faces that he had something that they – in fact – no longer had.

 The room was dimly lit, most of the light coming from the computer screen and the various sources of blue light stemming from the computer tower, mouse and keyboard.

Tomura sat in his computer chair, arms possessively wrapped around your form and you wriggled and squirmed in his grip, trying to get loose.

“Now, now,” Tomura rasped into your ear. “Don’t struggle too much. You wouldn’t want any accidents to happen, now would you?”

Your face scrunched up and you bit your lip, knowing exactly what Tomura could do to you – even accidentally – and you stilled in his grasp.

 His right hand left your figure now that you were placated and grabbed the computer mouse, the sound of it clicking reverberating through the otherwise quiet room.

You weren’t particularly interested in whatever he was doing on his computer, so you let your eyes wander through the room. You needed to find a way to get out of this situation, this room and especially this dangerous hold that he had over you.

You knew that the first two were comparatively easy to achieve, once you had successfully managed to pull off the latter one. After all, you hadn’t managed to become a pro hero without learning a skill or two.

But your offensive quirk just wasn’t suited to squirm free of his grasp without potentially getting disintegrated should all of his five fingers touch your body. Usually, you were quite content with your abilities but right now you couldn’t help but curse yourself for not being born with a quirk more similar to the one of your old teacher, Eraserhead.

Your gaze continued to examine the room, trying to find anything at all that could help you in your predicament. But mostly, the shelves were littered with games upon games, accompanied by the corresponding console. Behind you, a bed stood in the corner of the room, the sheets thrown on it carelessly. While those may not be able to aid you in your initial quest to rid yourself of his dangerous hands, you would be able to use them to cut off his vision once you had gotten free – even if it was just for a second.

 Your thought process was interrupted by Tomura, whose hand slid back to your body, grasping your hip in his hand while making sure that his pinky was lifted as to not accidentally kill you.

“Now we just have to wait for a few more minutes and the show can get started,” he said, his hands leisurely beginning to stroke your sides.

“Show?” you echoed confused and for the first time, your focus landed on the computer screen in front of you where a website you didn’t recognize was opened.

What you did recognize however, was the screen in the middle which reflected your own surprised face and the grinning one of Tomura behind you. Your eyes flitted to the top of the monitor to find a small camera on top, the little red light on the bottom center telling you that it was currently recording.

Back on the monitor screen, your eyes zoomed in on a small number in the corner and quickly you concluded that it showed the current viewer number of what obviously was a live stream.

“Wh-what are you planning, Shigaraki?” you asked him and turned your head and upper body so you could look in his eyes.

His gaze locked on to yours and a grin stretched across his face, cracked lips quickly moistened by his tongue so they wouldn’t crack further.

“Why, I thought since I’ve got you here, it would be a… shame not to share all the fun we’re about to have with the world,” he explained. “I even sent some links out to your dear colleagues, wouldn’t want them to miss out on it, now would we?”

Your eyes darted back to the monitor for a second, the viewer counter steadily rising, before you locked your eyes with Tomura again.

“It doesn’t matter in what way you’ll try to hurt me. I’m a hero, for God’s sake, don’t think I’m not used to pain. All you’re going to achieve by streaming this, is that my colleagues will trace the IP and find this place even faster.” You sent him a defiant look.

 Tomura erupted into cackling laughter, sounding like the crazy madman he was. “Hurt you? Oh no no no no, I think you’re misunderstanding. I’m not going to hurt you.” His right hand moved upwards to grip the top of your hero uniform; his pinky raised by acquired habit.

“Rather, I thought…” he continued, his grip hardening around the sturdy material before he purposefully burrowed his hand in it. “We could have some fun in a different way.”

Your horrified gaze went towards your chest, where the material of your suit began to crumble away in ashes, opening the view to your undergarments.

“Fuck you!” you screamed and started to struggle in his grasp. His left hand gripped your side harder, pinky raised, while his right hand came up to grip your chin.

“N’ah, ah, ah,” he chided you and his grip on your chin became painful. “Don’t forget that I hold your life in my hands.”

Before you had the chance to reply to him, his lips descended upon yours. His kiss was harsh and bruising, the feeling of his chapped lips uncomfortable on yours. You tried to break free of his hold, but it was futile. His tongue slipped out of his mouth and licked your lips, hoping to gain entry. You pressed them together more fiercely, your jaw gnashing with the force you brought up to keep your mouth closed.

Tomura clicked his tongue in disapproval. He took his mouth off you for a second to take a look at your tense face.

“Now, now, doll, while it would be a shame if this level was too easy to clear, I think you still don’t understand exactly in what situation you are currently in.”

As if to prove his point, his hand lifted from your jaw and gripped the fabric of your sports bra with all of his fingers. Instantly, the material began to crumble away under his grip until all that remained was a small heap of ashes on your legs.

Now, with nothing to cover your shame, your face burned with embarrassment and your arms shot up to cover your breasts.

“Oh, don’t get shy on me,” Tomura grinned and grabbed your arms to pull them away from your chest. “I’m sure your viewers would love to get a good look at you.”

 You tried to fight his grip, but his raw strength was far superior to yours, so you had no chance but to uncover your breasts for everyone to see. Your eyes felt hot and began to sting but you refused to let any tears fall. A hero didn’t cry, no matter how dire the situation got. On the screen, you saw an influx of messages on the chat, not even bothering to try and read the contents; you were sure that it wasn’t something you would actually want to read.

Before Tomura could continue to embarrass you further, a “ding” sounded from the computer speaker into the silence of the room. This led Tomura to giggle in excitement.

“Seems like the first one of our special guests has just entered the stream,” he said from behind you. Your head whipped around to face him. “What is that supposed to mean?” you asked him, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Oh, don’t worry, my doll. That ‘ding’ you just heard? Means that one of my invitation links just got opened and one of your colleagues just decided to finally join us. Why don’t you be nice and greet him?”

Tomura took your right hand he was still holding and began to wave it for the camera. Your eyes closed in frustration, knowing there was nothing you could do about it. When he was finally done waving for you, his hand let go of your wrist and immediately you covered your chest the best you could.

His now free hand gripped your hair and pulled your head back. His head burrowed itself in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting at your skin. His lips moved up towards your ear and he whispered “Now, let’s make sure that we put on a good show for our viewers.” before taking your earlobe into his mouth and biting on it.

“Once I’m out of here, I’ll fucking kill you,” you answered him through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the unpleasant wet feeling of his mouth on you. You felt him smile against your skin, but he didn’t say anything to you in return. Instead, his hand left your hair and glided down your face and neck, making its way down to your breasts.

Your hand gripped his wrist, trying to keep him from touching you in this intimate place but you already knew that you wouldn’t be able to stop him. Moments later, Tomura’s hand had reached its goal and he began to fondle your breast roughly, pulling and twisting your nipple.

Your face scrunched up in pain and once more, you tried to pull his hand away from your body – to no avail. He continued tugging and twisting and shamefully you noticed that your nipple was getting hard. You knew that it was merely a bodily response to being stimulated but it was still hard to stomach that your body was reacting to it when you sure as hell weren’t enjoying his ministrations in the slightest.

And it seemed like you weren’t the only one who had noticed. Tomura had as well and you felt his grin against your neck. “Oh, seems like somebody’s enjoying it?” he gloated and tugged on your nipple harder.

“As if!” you exclaimed, hoping that nobody else would believe his incredulous words. Everything about his touches was uncomfortable: His grip was rough and his hand felt scratchy on your delicate skin.

Once more, you started to wriggle in his grasp, knowing that nothing would come out of it. With just the threat of his hands, he had you defeated before you had even started fighting. And although what was about to happen horrified and scared you, death scared you even more.

Now his left hand let go of yours and instantly, you started curling in on yourself, trying to prevent him from touching you further or the viewers on the stream from seeing you. He allowed you to remain in this position for a few moments while his gaze was fixed on the screen, reading the influx of comments.

“It seems like the majority of our viewers want us to move on to the next level already,” Tomura said and his left hand snaked under your armpit and up to your throat, tilting your body back against his.

“What do you say we give the people what they want?” Another tug on your nipple, and his hand left your breast before it continued downwards to your panties. Your hands clawed at his arm, trying to free yourself from his grip and save the last bit of dignity you still had left. Tomura wasn’t fazed by that however and his hand steadily continued until it had clawed into the material of your underwear and it decayed into nothingness along with your last shred of hope to somehow free yourself of this situation.

The little pile of dust that had settled on your crotch was blown away by Tomura and his mouth stretched into a wide grin, his dry lips close to cracking open. The hand that had disintegrated your panties now took your right thigh and pulled it to the side, effectively spreading your legs and displaying your pussy for everyone on the stream to see.

You had closed your eyes, not wanting to see yourself and your shameful display mirrored on the screen. Your hands, that had been on his arm up until now, trying to free yourself of his grasp, fell limply to your sides as all fight left your body. You knew that there was no way you would be able to get yourself out of this situation before Tomura had had the chance to defile you. Your only option at this point was to wait for your colleagues to arrive and save you – and hoping that you wouldn’t get killed before they would do so.

Once Tomura felt your body slacken, he began to laugh. “What? Not gonna fight me anymore?” he asked, his voice full of malicious joy. “And here I was beginning to enjoy your feisty attitude.”

Your change in behavior didn’t however stop him from continuing on with his little show and his right hand moved from your thigh to your pussy lips, spreading them open with the pointer and middle finger of his hand to give his audience a good show.

“That’s some grade A hero pussy,” he grinned into the camera as rubbed his finger around your hole a few times. “I wonder how many dicks it has taken so far…”

He turned his face from the camera to you as if he was waiting for an answer. You weren’t willing to give him that information though and kept your mouth shut, even as he lifted his other hand from your neck to your cheeks to squeeze them and get you to talk.

After a moment however, it seemed as if he had lost patience waiting for your answer, as he retracted his hand and put it back into place on your neck.

“It doesn’t matter. Once I’ve fucked you, I’ll have you ruined for other dicks for all eternity,” he cackled, his pointer finger pushing into your dry cunt immediately after he had finished his sentence.

You hissed out in pain. The skin on his finger was rough and you – surprise, surprise – were not turned on at all, so it hurt when he shoved it inside without any preparation at all.

When Tomura heard your hiss, he cackled again, moving his finger around inside you.

“If you’re already struggling to take my finger, you will break apart once I shove my cock inside you.”

Slowly, he began to move his finger, and with horror you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter the more he prodded your walls. Soon, he was able to fit a second finger inside your heat, angling them upwards and against where he had read the g-spot was.

When you took a sharp breath, he knew that he had been successful and he continued to push against the little rough patch of skin, knowing it would be so much more bitter for you if your body enjoyed the ordeal.

After a few moments of pumping his fingers inside you, he stopped and leaned forward a bit, reading through the comments in the chat.

He laughed. “Yeah, that little hero pussy is getting nice and wet,” he replied to one commenter. “It’s sucking my fingers right in.”

As if to demonstrate, he pulled his fingers out a bit and moved them around, until a squelching sound could be heard, and then pushed them all the way inside again, which elicited a muffled moan you hadn’t been able to stop in time.

“She’s definitely enjoying herself,” he answered another comment, looking at you with a sleazy grin. “Isn’t that right, hero slut?”

You grit your teeth and held back the curses and slurs you wanted to reply with, knowing that it would amuse your tormenter.

Once Tomura felt like he had replied to enough comments, he turned his attention back to you, thrusting his fingers inside you harshly one last time before he took them out, lifting them to the camera first to show the glistening juices before he put them inside his mouth and licked them with an exaggerated hum.

“I hope you’re ready for the final boss,” he whispered into your ear, although he made sure that it was loud enough for his audience to hear.

You shook your head, one last time trying to squirm out of his grasp. All that achieved however was that your ass rubbed against Tomura’s bulge and he let out a soft hiss.

“No need to be impatient, little hero slut,” he said with a grin as the hand that held your neck lifted you higher so the other hand could loosen and push down his pants.

Even if you hadn’t wanted to, as soon as Tomura’s erection bobbed free and sprang up between your legs, your eyes wandered to it, widening when you saw his size.

Tomura had to have seen your expression mirrored in the stream because he let out a manic laugh, his entire body (and dick) shaking with the emotion.

“Oh, don’t worry, it won’t hurt… much,” he cackled as he rubbed his dick along your slit, coating it in your juices. You body twitched when the tip of his dick rubbed over your clit and a shameful whimper escaped your throat, although you willed yourself immediately to shut up.

Not wanting to see your own violation, you closed your eyes as Tomura positioned himself at your entrance and began to slowly push inside.

You couldn’t hold back the hiss that escaped your throat at the intrusion, nor the squirming as you tried to get away from it.

Tomura only tightened his grip on your neck you, pushing your body down on him as his dick breached further and further into your wet heat.

Tears threatened to escape your eyes once Tomura was fully seated in you and only through sheer willpower, you managed to hold them back, unwilling to give up this last bit of pride you had.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Tomura groaned, stilling for a second to get used to the feeling of your cunt. “Don’t tell me you were a virgin?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer the villain. No matter what you would say, he would only find it amusing and possibly use it to torment you further, either calling you a stuck-up hero bitch, thinking you’re too good for anyone, or a hero slut, willing to let anyone willing fuck you.

When Tomura realized he wasn’t getting an answer from you, he chuckled before he adjusted his four-finger grip on your neck, pulled almost all the way out of your cunt and slammed you down again until he was inside you to the base.

A pained cry flew from your lips but you had no time to even try and hold back your voice anymore, because Tomura immediately continued to jackhammer into you, moaning and panting into your ear as he showed the world how your cunt ate up his dick.

Your hands flew up to grab at his arm, futilely trying to steady yourself at least a bit, as he pushed and pushed and pushed into you. Squelching noises you were sure the microphone was picking up as well, came from your cunt as it greedily sucked Tomura’s dick back in every time he pulled back.

“Fuck, this is some grade A pussy,” Tomura groaned, his hips only slowing down a bit as his muscles began to hurt from the position. He caught his breath while he lazily thrusted into you, his moist breath uncomfortable on your ear.

Suddenly, Tomura moved and stood up from his chair, pushing you up as well with his hips. The hand that was around your throat slipped from under your arm and instead pushed down onto your back, laying you flat on his computer desk while his dick never left your tight cunt.

As soon as he had finished adjusting to the new position, he began railing you again, his hips slamming against your ass as his dick burrowed inside you further and further.

You let out a pained scream as his thrusts reached even deeper now, clenching your eyes shut as you tried to shut out the pain. At least in this position, the camera wasn’t able to get a shot of your face, you thought in relief, as it was too high to capture your body laid out on the desk.

Tomura must’ve noticed that fact as well because the next moment, the hand that pushed your back down moved up and grabbed your hair, pulling you up so your face was angled towards the camera. Your eyes flew open, a choked cry leaving you as you felt the burn on your scalp of your hair being pulled.

Right in front of you, you could see the red blinking light of the recoding camera and even though you wanted to close your eyes again, you found that the position made it impossible for you to do so.

So you had no choice but to stare into the camera as Tomura fucked you from behind while grunting and panting, your eyebrows furrowing as your eyes filled with tears.

After a minute of thrusting and you getting slammed against the desk again and again, Tomura leaned forward to read some more comments, his face erupting into a cackle when he read one of them.

“They’re saying I’m not taking care of you,” he told you, pulling at your hair some more so your head leant on his shoulder. “Saying you look like you’re not enjoying yourself.” He let go of your hair which caused you to fall forward onto the desk, almost slamming your head on the wood. “Let’s change that, shall we?”

With those words, his right hand began snaking around your waist, moving down so he could rub at your clit. His other hand pulled your back against his chest, giving the camera a better view and himself some more room to move his hand around your little nub.

At first, it was easy to ignore the touches on your clit, instead focusing on your uncomfortable position but then, he moved his fingers in a way that teased your clit just right and your mouth flew open as a loud moan left your lips.

“Ahh, so that’s what gets you going,” he laughed, immediately repeating the motion and trying to get you to make some more noises. You tried to hold back the sounds, tried to force yourself to close your mouth so no more moans and whimpers could escape you, but Tomura simply moved his hand on your chest upwards, pushing two of his fingers inside you mouth so it would stay open.

His thrusts had increased in speed again, his dick rubbing against your g-spot as his hands teased your clit and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your peak.

You moved your body and tried to angle your hips in a way that would made Tomura’s actions at least a bit more bearable but he noticed right away and made sure that you could not escape the orgasm that was building inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re getting even tighter,” he rasped, out of breath due to his insane pace. “Are you gonna cum around my dick?” He laughed at your pained expression, letting out a grunt as your walls began twitching around him.

“Yeah, just like that. Cream around that villain dick like the hero slut you are,” he groaned, feeling himself edging closer and closer to orgasm as well.

With one last effort, you tried to move away and stop his hand from pushing you over the edge but it was useless and with a cry, you came on his dick, the tears you had held back the entire time running down your face as your body twitched and convulsed, milking his cock like some desperate bitch in heat.

Tomura let out a choked groan, pumping into you a few more time as he announced that he was going to fill your slutty pussy with his cum, before you could feel his dick twitching inside you. You wanted to shout, wanted to beg him to at least not cum inside but his hand was still in your mouth and so you simply cried in silence as his warmth spread through you and began dripping out of your pussy.

Tomura let out a shuddering breath as he calmed down from his high, falling down in his seat and taking you with him. His dick began to get flaccid and with a plopping sound the pulled it out of your abused cunt, spreading your pussy lips for your audience to show them the copious amounts of cum that now dripped out of your slit and down your ass.

“Next time,” Tomura laughed as he pushed his cum back inside with two of his fingers. “Let’s try out that back entrance of yours.” He teasingly let his finger circle around your cum-covered asshole while you simply lay on his chest, motionless except for your harsh breaths and the sobs leaving your body.

He wiped his gooey fingers on your chest before he leaned forward to grab his computer mouse, waving to the camera one last time and telling his audience he hoped they had enjoyed the show before he cut the stream and the red light of the camera turned off.

 ____________________________________________

When the screen turned black, back at the agency Katsuki slammed a fist on the table. He didn’t want to watch one of his coworkers violated but they needed to make sure you weren’t killed while his colleague on the desk worked on tracing the IP.

Katsuki whipped his head up, shouting over to the other pro-hero. “Did you fucking trace the stream?!”

It was silent for a minute while his colleague typed furiously, trying his hardest to get a location.

“…no.”

Katsuki’s scream of rage could be heard through the entire agency.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 2,675 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Fear, disturbing imagery, language, sexuality, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: The group brainstorms ideas for taking on the Saviors, while Y/N and Daryl explore their new closeness.

Your name: submit What is this?

A few minutes later you were all strategizing in Jesus’s trailer. It was a full room, and you and Daryl hung out near the back, listening as Rick explained what had happened when The Saviors came to search Alexandria the previous night.

“We didn’t know. I didn’t know, if you were really out,” Rick said, looking to Daryl. “And they didn’t say anything about you,” he added, nodding in your direction. “I didn’t know what to think. I hoped you were out but I—” He shook his head. “They tore the place apart. Negan was there. But, obviously, they left empty handed.” He sighed heavily, staring down at the floor. “We came here because it’s time for us to start making plans. To fight this. To fight them. Especially now that Daryl and Y/N are safe. They don’t have any bargaining chips, nothing else to hold over our heads.”

“Hell yeah,” Daryl said, straightening up. “We’re ready.”

By the time the serious discussion was done, you were exhausted, but then everyone stayed gathered around eating and catching up, enjoying a brief moment of joy. The whole time, all Daryl could think about was that you were right next to him and he wasn’t touching you. He couldn’t stop thinking about your lips on his, the struck look on your face when he had finally gotten up the courage and grabbed you and kissed you back, the smile on your face, you straddling his lap... And he wanted to smooth his hands down your back, tangle his fingers in your hair again. It was sending warmth running through him and he couldn’t focus on anything else, despite how happy he was to hear that everyone back home was okay and how glad he was to see them.

You glanced at Daryl occasionally throughout the evening and he always seemed to be far away somewhere. You had no idea that it was because he was thinking about you.

“Goodnight,” you said, standing on the threshold of the trailer, Daryl waiting just outside. The Alexandrians had headed up to bed already in the main house.

Maggie smiled kindly and returned the goodnight, giving you one more hug. “See ya in the mornin’,” she said.

You met Daryl at the bottom of the steps and he nudged his nose up at you and started to lead the way back to the trailer you were sharing.

“You were quiet. That whole time,” you said. “Everything okay?”

He glanced back over at you and smiled, nodding. “Ya. Better even. I just—was thinking about somethin’ else. Couldn’t stop.”

“What’s that?”

He simply gave you a look and pulled open the door to your trailer, nudging you inside first. He shut the door behind him and locked it as he did each night. When he turned, you were standing there with an expectant smile on your face. “Hey,” you said, reaching out and lightly grabbing his sides. He thrilled at the contact. “I just want to make sure you’re alright. Really,” you said earnestly. “A lot has happened.”

Daryl’s blue eyes were downcast and you did see a shadow grow on his face as he thought about his time at the Sanctuary. But then he thought about you appearing in the growing light as you opened the door to his cell, and how you wrapped him up in your arms, and kissed his forehead and his cheek, despite how filthy and miserable he was. He nodded at you. “I know. ‘M fine. And we’re alright. Or, we’re gonna be, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you agreed, smoothing your hands lightly up and down his sides and landing them on his hips.

He gave you a look and you quirked an eyebrow at him, not sure what it meant. “What?” you prodded him.

“Your hands on me,” he murmured, biting his bottom lip. He hesitated just a moment before he wrapped his arms around you a little shyly and tugged you into him. “You wanna know where I was that whole time?”

You smoothed a hand up his strong stomach and chest, resting it over his heart. He felt like he was paralyzed beneath your touch for a moment. You could feel his heartbeat under your fingers. “Mhm,” you said, a little starry-eyed.

His eyes studied your face. “I was right here. With my hands on you and your hands on me.”

You smiled up at the archer but couldn’t wait a moment longer. You stood on your toes and pressed your lips against his eagerly, which gave beneath yours softly. The intensity grew and you arched into him. You pulled his bottom lip in between your teeth and bit it gently, eliciting a growl from deep in his chest. He traced his fingers up your spine and tangled them in your hair, pulling you in against him and kissing you hungrily.

When you finally pulled back, you studied his face for a moment.

He smoothed his hands from your shoulders, down your arms. There was a somewhat uncertain look on his face.

“Hmm?” you asked, lifting a hand and running your fingers through his hair. He shut his eyes as it sent him tingling with goosebumps and electricity.

“What’s this all mean?” he asked.

Your eyes flitted between his. “What do you want it to mean?” you asked, pressing your palm against his chest again, a little nervous now awaiting his response.

Daryl thought for a moment. He knew what he wanted. He wanted you. All of you. To himself. He wanted to protect you, keep you safe, make you happy, take care of you. He wanted to fall asleep with you in his arms and wake up the same way. He wanted to be your home. But saying that was an entirely different matter. “I want… I just want ya to be mine,” he finally said.

“That’s what I want. And for you to be mine.” You smiled up at him softly.

He pressed his lips together as was his habit when he was nervous. He looked down at your hands and took them softly in his, smoothing his thumbs over your silky skin. “Already am. Have been for a good long while,” he admitted.

“You should have said something sooner,” you replied, biting your bottom lip.

“Ya should’ve too.” Daryl let his eyes drink you in and they inevitably fell on the bruise on your neck left by Negan. He immediately felt a rush of rage and you saw his eyes darken with it.

You looked away and pulled back slightly, but Daryl didn’t let you break contact with him completely. “Did he—what was he like with ya? Did he ever hit ya or—”

You stared vaguely downward, your eyes stinging a little with humiliated tears you tried to keep in. You shook your head.

Daryl’s exhale came out as part growl. “What he did is bad enough. Maybe worse. He treated ya like property.”

Your eyes were still downcast and Daryl took in the pout on your lips. “He always says it like you chose it. Like you had a choice. But the truth is you don’t. And you can’t say no to him, not really... You just comply with whatever he wants, out of fear or because you’re holding onto what you’re protecting. He has total control of you. He possesses you. And yet he smiles and acts charming like he didn’t blackmail you into being there.”

Daryl’s chest was swelling with rage again. “I know.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “But he ain’t ever touchin’ ya again.” Daryl took in your downcast expression. “C’mon. C’mere.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you over toward the bed, sinking down on it, his back up against the headboard. “You’re safe,” he said softly. He gestured to you with a tilt of his chin and you sank down next to him, shutting your eyes as he folded you up against him, wrapping an arm around you, and smoothed his hand over your upper arm. His fingers found the scar some of The Saviors had left there during what felt like another lifetime, the one he had stitched for you not too long after you met. He traced it lightly.

“That time,” he said softly, “when ya got this. They tried to take ya back to him?”

You nodded.

“You were goin’ out there and huntin’ em on your own? Since Aaron brought you to Alexandria?”

“Even before then.”

“Christ, Y/N. Ya coulda told me. I woulda helped ya.”

You looked up at him. “I wasn’t ready to tell anyone what had happened to me yet. I was still burying it. But I think I’ve realized that—I never would have been ready. You’re never really ready to talk about something like that. And I didn’t want to pull anyone else into it, make them a target.”

Daryl sighed and you felt the expansion and sinking of his chest beside you. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Ya… ya, I know…” he said, thinking about his own scars, his own wounds. “C’mon. Let’s get some sleep now.”

You settled in against him more deeply and shut your eyes.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Mmm, you know you always were my favorite, right?” Negan caressed your cheek and studied your face.

“I bet you say that to all your wives,” you retorted flatly.

This only made him chuckle and smile. “No. I really don’t. You know what I like about you?” he asked. His hands slid down your back to rest in the curve at the bottom of your spine. “You’re a badass. I could probably send you out to run any one of my outposts, be in charge of one of our serving settlements, and you’d run it almost as well3 as I could myself. And then you could come home and slip into a nice cocktail dress and a pair of high heels and you turn every head in the room. That’s rare. And gets me all warm and fuzzy in all the right places,” he said biting his bottom lip. He pressed his pelvis into you and you could easily feel the growing erection underneath his jeans.

“Yeah, well, you know I don’t like your process,” you said softly, looking away.

“I know. And that’s a goddamn shame. What a waste of your talents.” Negan leaned in and began kissing your neck. The stubble on his face was rough and it scratched your skin a little too hard as he pressed into you. His fingers wound into your hair and he tugged it to one side so he could nibble along your jaw toward your ear. “Now, I think tonight I want you to do something special for me,” he whispered gruffly into your ear. “Because I have had one hell of a day.”

You gasped yourself awake like you were emerging from frigid water, completely disoriented, and ready to fight. You felt hands on you as you tried to make sense of where you were in the darkness and you struggled against them violently, pushing away from the figure in front of you and toppling onto the ground. “Get off me! Fuck! What the fuck?! Stay the fuck away from me!” Still not knowing where you were, you scrambled backward in the darkness until your back hit a wall. Just then there was a tremendous noise and you heard the distinctive sound of a door busting open. The next second you were blinded as a light was turned on.

It was then that you snapped back into reality and remembered where you were. “Y/N!” Daryl was yelling your name, leaning over the edge of the bed toward you, his face desperate, frantic. “S’alright! You’re safe!”

Maggie and Sasha had busted in through the door and both were pointing guns in your direction, looking bewildered. Enid was standing behind them on the steps peering in with wide eyes.

“What’s goin’ on?” Maggie demanded.

Daryl snapped around to look at her. “Hey! Put the damn guns down!”

“What the hell happened?!” Sasha yelled.

Daryl climbed off the bed toward you and knelt down. “I said lower the goddamn guns!” he snapped again. He could see that you were trembling. This time Maggie and Sasha listened, finally realizing there was no real, material threat in the room. “Hey. Y/N. S’alright.” Daryl held a hand out toward you, palm out, hesitantly inching closer. “It’s just me. You’re alright…”

Your chest was heaving as you gulped in air. “It was—it was him. He was—” You squeezed your eyes shut. “Fuck,” you muttered, leaning your head back against the wall. “Fuck. I’m sorry… I’m sorry. Shit…” You covered your face with your hands and it was easy to see you shaking.

Maggie and Sasha exchanged a sad and concerned look. Enid touched Maggie on the sleeve. “Come on. Everything is alright. Daryl’s got this.” They retreated, closing the (now busted) door softly behind them.

You pressed your fingers to your closed eyes and tapped your head back against the wall again in frustration. “It felt so real. I—I thought I was back there. He was—” you broke off.

“C’mon. Get on up off the floor. C’mere,” Daryl said, holding his hand out to you. You accepted it and allowed him to pull you to your feet.

“Did I—did I hit you?” you asked him, studying his face, cupping it with your shaking hands.

“Nah.”

“Fuck,” you collapsed against him, burying your face against his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Daryl smoothed his hands over your back. You were still shaking slightly. “Quit that. Ya ain’t got anythin’ to be sorry for. I pulled a knife in the middle of the night the other day, remember?”

You pressed yourself flat against his chest.

“S’alright,” he soothed. “C’mon and sit down. Ya need anything?”

“Maybe a lobotomy,” you said wryly, sinking down on the edge of the bed.

“Nah. Just—takes a bit of time.”

You glanced over at Daryl and he could tell there was something specific on your mind that you were struggling with. “I—Do you think I should have done it?” you asked him.

He cocked his head in a question.

“Killed him.” You stared at Daryl and he could read the turmoil inside you. “After he would—” you felt sick and broke off for a moment. “When he would spend the night with me… he’d just be there. Next to me. Asleep. And I would sit there thinking about how I could do it. I could just end him. Do you think I should have? Maybe it would have stopped all of this.”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah. It wouldn’t have been enough. And it would have probably gotten ya killed. After bein’ there, seein’ what it’s like, what they’re like… It can’t just be him. It has to be more.”

You were grateful for his words and nodded, albeit a little hesitantly. You gently stroked the side of his face and gave him a small smile. He nudged his head back in the direction of the pillows and you nodded, climbing up the bed and flopping back down with a heavy sigh, trying to let go of the tension that had hold of you. Daryl laid right behind you, pressed against you with his arm draped over you, holding you tight. The steady cadence of his breathing and his weight made you feel safe, and you eventually fell asleep again and didn’t wake until the morning.

[kdjamlabel]

Tendencies

Pairing: Hawks x GN!Y/N

Summary: Hawks with bird tendencies, but he’s faking it because he thinks you’ll like him more.

Hawks fluff for the soul~

~~~~~~

Everyone assumes because of his animal quirk, Hawks should have animal tendencies. It would make sense since people with animal type quirks often share habits with their animal counterparts. These “bird hero headcanons” stem from the various theories his [rabid] fans have of what the hero is like behind his cocky, charming exterior. Unfortunately for them, the most bird-like qualities he has are his wings, which is why he gets a little confused when some fans ask him to coo when he signs things for them.

Being in a relationship with the bird boy is a whole ‘nother ball game. When you gave him a cracker and some trail mix as a joke, he nibbled at it while making chirping sounds and doing a little happy dance. You thought it was absolutely adorable and started to pull out your phone when he noticed and immediately stopped, desperate to convince you that it had to be a secret because it was too embarrassing for the public to know about.

Opening the door into your shared living space after work one day, you found him sitting on the couch surrounded by an assortment of pillows, blankets, some of his feathers strewn about. When you asked what all this was for, he got up and gently pulled you to come sit in his “nest” for cuddle time. Needless to say, you two were nice and cozy for the rest of that night.

You don’t know when, but one day he started bringing you things. Shiny things. Rocks, shells, the occasional piece of overpriced jewelry, you name it. You had asked him why he, and he simply answered “Because I thought you would like it!” with the sweetest, most innocent loving smile. You now had a box in the closet labeled “Y/N’s shiny things” written on the side messily in glitter glue. Looking at it every morning before you got dressed never failed to give you the warm and fuzzies.

One night he came home from a mission covered in some weird sludge and you had offered to help him clean up. You had him sit on a stool in your-unreasonably large-bathroom while you ran a warm damp towel through his feathers. He spent the whole time giving little hums of approval as you worked your way through. When you reached the base of them however, he shuddered and gasped, causing his wings to fluff up and push you away. He had his hands covering his face in shame while you were rolling on the floor laughing like crazy. In your fit, you didn’t notice him peeking through his hands, smiling softly down at you.

He had made it his mission to learn how to do your hair. It didn’t matter what type it was, or if he had no previous experience, he was going to do it. You had told him it was fine and he didn’t need to, but he insisted. It was supposed to be payback for how well you had been taking care of his wings. He’s gotten really good at it now, confident enough to let you show up to work in a “Keigo original” with only the smuggest of grins when your coworkers compliment your hair.

It happened one afternoon when the two of you were just chilling and listening to the radio. He started bobbing his head to the music ever so slightly, then started doing it harder as the song got to his favorite part. You carefully and sneakily pulled out your phone to take a small video. You weren't going to show anyone, you just wanted to keep it as a little secret for yourself. He was fully aware of what you were doing, but he let it slide, only because he loves you.

The truth finally came out one day at the beginning of spring. You had been pulling away from him and he couldn’t figure out why. You had cut cuddle time shorter and shorter, only stayed in the house to eat and grab spare clothes, you had even started staying over at a friend’s house instead of with him. He was starting to go cuckoo not having you there. He needed to confront you about your recent behavior, so he made a plan.

When he called you to meet on the roof of the penthouse, you were a bit skeptical of his intentions, but thought to humor him as the guilt of leaving him alone was eating you alive. What you weren’t expecting was to see him standing there, smartly dressed and roses in hand. The nerve ridden man in front of you was a stark contrast from his usual laid back and carefree persona, but a strangely welcome sight all the same.

Before you could speak, he handed you the flowers and basically begged to know what he could have possibly done wrong. You try to calm him as he frantically apologizes for things he hasn’t even done. Finally, you grab him by the shoulders and yell that he hasn’t done anything wrong.

“Then why have you been avoiding me?” He asks in such a sad and broken tone that you feel your heart ache.

“Babe,” You sigh, embarrassed that you didn’t think of talking this out with him earlier and had to do it here and now of all places.  “I’ve been avoiding you because it’s spring.”

“What does the weather have to do with anything! You can’t just randomly pull away because winter’s over!” He was still visibly confused by your actions. You couldn’t believe you had to be the one to say it like this.

“It’s SPRING, Keigo! I know it was mean of me to do that without telling you first, and I’m sorry. I’m just not sure if I can handle…” You trail off, not wanting to finish, cringing. 

Hawks was a smart man. The Commission had made sure of that. The moment you hesitated, he finally understood what this was all about. He processed it for a bit, then the chuckling started, which evolved into full-blown hysterics. You were taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor. First, completely frantic, now this? Was this a side effect of-

“I’m not-I-I don’t really act like a bird y’know.” He said, finally calming down and wiping small tears from his eyes. “I’m just a guy with wings, nothing more, nothing less.” He looked at your wide-eyed and open-mouthed expression.

“Wh-bu-I thought you-”

“Acted like a bird because I have a bird quirk? Sorry dove, but no, I don’t.”

“Then why have you-”

“If I’m being honest, the only reason I did was because I thought you would like me more. The fans think that’s who I am and I thought you did too. I know, I know, I shouldn’t have lied about it, but what else was I supposed to do? The thought of ‘“What if they leave you because you aren’t what they thought you were?’” kept creeping in and I just couldn’t tell you the truth. If I had known you would avoid me because of it, I would have said something sooner. I’m sorry” His eyes were downcast as he finished. He really didn’t mean for it to get this out of hand. If he had just told you, then maybe things would be better. Now you probably hated him. You gently grasped his face and brought it up to meet yours.

“Oh featherbrain-” You touched his forehead with your own, caressing his cheeks as you do ”I love you, quirks-yes pun fully intended-or not. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re the same Keigo Takami I fell in love with. It was cute, but I think I can live with just-normal-man-with-wings Hawks.” you say squishing his cheeks and giving him a little peck on his nose.

“I don’t know about that. Some of those things have turned into habits that I’m not sure will break so easily.” he smirks as he snakes his arms around your waist.

“I guess we’ll just have to live with that then. But to be perfectly clear, your not-”

“No, I’m not.”

“Thank god. I wasn’t sure how long I could stand being at (y/f/n)’s house. I think they’re just about ready to kick me out.”

“Then It’s your lucky day. There’s a penthouse lease with your name on it and some very empty bed space just your size. Think you can fix that for me, love?” He arches his brow, teasingly.

“I think I can fix that.”

[sushiburritonoms]

I've been having terrible writer's block lately, not enjoying anything I've written, not getting anywhere with WIPs. Poor @darkisrising and @bronze-lorica have had to talk me off edges lately (thanks guys you're the best!). I think I finally have a chapter 3 for Sacred Texts but I'm sitting on it for a while to see if that's the direction I really want to go. I'm soooo sorry for the delay.

In the meantime I was looking through my notes for The Father the Son and the Exile and I found a bunch of scenes I wrote and abandoned as the fic moved in different directions. I figured I'd post some of them because they'll never see the light of day otherwise and because I have nothing else to offer right now.

Originally in Exile, Din and Luke were supposed to make it to Tython. I had them meeting up with Han AND Leia on the planet Ajan Kloss (its the planet Luke and Leia train on in TROS). Its interesting looking back at this, Din and Luke have a different dynamic since I wrote this a long time ago back in March when the story was going in a different direction (I also wrote an homage to one of Writer Owl's fics in the dialogue). I enjoy playful Luke, I don't really write him that often and that's a real shame. Anyways here's wonder wall, enjoy!

Ajan Kloss  was a swampy humid hellhole of a planet that no rational, sentient being should visit, let alone enjoy. Of course that meant that Grogu and Luke were comfortable in the sticky humid environment. In fact there was a rare smile stretched across Luke's face and he sounded almost nostalgic as he talked around their campfire.

“There’s a certain type of moss that grows on the trees here that’s edible.”

Din refused to look up at Luke from where he was cleaning their meal.  “I’m not drinking any tea you make out of it.”

“It’s more of a garnish?”

Din sighed. “Don’t touch my fish.” He forcefully stuck a stick lengthwise through the fish as an emphasis.

“Grogu should really have more vegetation in his diet. Master Yoda used to eat plants.”

Din snorted. “You’re welcome to try.” It wasn’t like the kid never ate vegetables but they were always fried and covered in spices. That probably wasn’t what Luke was getting at.

“Maybe later. He did eat two whole frogs.”  Luke edged himself closer to the fire. “Maybe after this we could swing by Dagobah. You know, assuming we’re not about to trigger some sort of sneak attack or trap. There are tubers I could dig up for him that Master Yoda ate, plus I could pick up more gnarltree bark.”

Din blinked and raised his head up to properly look at Luke. He knew what Luke was doing. He was trying to distract himself with thoughts of the future. It was a tactic Din often used himself--strategize every possible outcome in the hopes the future won’t be as terrifying as it feels.

On the one hand, he was amused and touched by Luke’s continued fixation on Grogu’s eating habits, even if it was hypocritical of Luke given his own poor diet.  It reminded Din of some of the older members of the Covert that used to watch Din when he was little. They always used to harass him to eat everything offered to him and gave him sharp nudges when he tried to skip directly to the occasional sweet treat left out for all the foundlings to share. It was very Mandalorian of Skywalker and it felt good. Familiar.

On the other hand, Din really, really didn’t want any more tree bark in the Wayfinder. So Din didn’t really know what to say.

“Hold this.” Din shoved a fish skewer into Luke’s hand. Yeah that worked.

Luke took the skewer with a hint of a smile.  “Master Yoda used to eat certain mushrooms too, I think I can safely identify them. Or maybe I could put together an aquarium in the Wayfinder and we could take more frogs with us. I bet I can repurpose one of the smaller cloning cylinders I have in the back and add a filtration system...”

Din shuddered at the thought  of living with a cloning vat filled with frogs and the likelihood of frogs, moss and tree bark for dinner several nights a week.  Just no. “This is why our people are ancient enemies,” he shuddered. “You live like animals.”

There was silence. Too long of a silence. Din looked up.

Luke was staring at him with a shocked look on his face. “Our people are ancient enemies?” He whispered.

Ah kriff. Din winced. “So I’ve heard.”

“....Oh.”  Luke looked crushed.  “Nobody told--well. There’s a lot nobody told me,” he sighed. “About being a Jedi.”

Damn damn damn. Din wanted to throw his hands up in the sky.

“I guess that makes sense,” Luke mumbled. He was fiddling with the fish skewer in his hands. “All the other Mandalorians I’ve ever met have tried to capture or kill me. I thought it was just the Bounty…”

“I’m not like other Mandalorians.”  Din interrupted, desperate to turn the conversation. It was technically true, probably just not in a way that helped their relationship. Er--their partnership?  Their--whatever this was.

“I mean I like you…”

Din froze. What.

“You’re really good at fishing and Grogu loves you.  I’d hate to have to kill you.”

Din’s heart restarted in his chest again.  Was Luke...messing with him?   “You wouldn’t leave a mark.”

Luke blinked up at him innocently and fluttered his damn eyelashes.  “I could totally kill you in your sleep.”

The little shit!  “I’ll poison your tea.”

“It’s pretty much already poison. I’m immune.”

Heh, true.  “Your fish then.”

“I’ll just go grab a frog.”

“You’re staying here and eating my damn fish!”

Luke burst out into sudden loud laughter.  It was like a sudden fierce rainstorm in the way it showered over the camp. It startled Grogu, who had been ignoring both of them in favor of playing with some shiny rocks nearby.  He tilted his head and then matched Luke’s laughter with a baby chuckle of his own.

“Sorry! I think it's just my nerves talking but that just sounded wrong and so funny--”

Din just shook his head. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what had set Luke off but he didn’t care. “Crazy Jedi.”

“Trigger happy Mandalorian.”  Luke gave him a giant smile.  “Hurry up and finish this.” He gave Din back the fish skewer and chuckled again.  Despite his comment about his nerves, Luke’s shoulders were relaxed and his legs were spread out comfortably by the fire. Din could stare at his lopsided smile all evening, especially as the sun set and the fire highlighted the delight in his eyes. The sun shone through the lighter parts of Luke’s shaggy long hair. It was now untied from the neat bun it had started in and looked soft and golden in the light.

Stars above help him.  Luke was beautiful.  Din was tired of denying the thought. He wanted to touch Luke’s face with his bare hands, run his fingers through his hair and that was terrifying. He hadn’t wanted to take off his armor for anyone, besides Grogu, in ages. Maybe with Omera...but this was much different. The feelings he’d had for her were a momentary weakness compared to the colossally bad idea this was to develop an attraction for this damaged Jedi.  Din had no idea what tomorrow was going to bring.  Even if nothing happened, there was the uncertainty of the next day and the next to worry about. Luke was a marked man and every day there was a chance something could take him out. Take him away. The thought burned in him like a chemical fire inside a reactor.  Caged deep inside of him, destructive it released, and burning with an intensity greater than Din could stand.

This was why he never got involved with people before he found Grogu. He didn’t know what to do with the intensity of his feelings and how to fit them into his unpredictable life.

“Din?” Luke’s smile fell slightly. “You ok?”

“..Yeah.”  Din did what he always did. He pushed his feelings away and tried to focus on the present.  What had they been talking about? Food. He sat and thought for a moment. Maybe...

“I have a contact on Tatooine, from a rural town few people have heard of. Mos Epsa.”

“Mos Eps--I thought that was wiped from the planet years ago.” Luke looked impressed.

“It’s still there.”  Din handed Luke a cooked fish skewer and settled back with his own. “We could go there, for a while. We’d be safe. I’m assuming we can both eat Tatooine food.”

Luke picked at his fish. “I do miss blue milk.”

Good.  “I’ll add it to the list.”

Luke chuckled. “You have a list?”

“Of safe planets we can stop at. We should have alternatives to the drop pods and not be reliant on the New Republic. My list is probably different from yours so we have more options.” Din stabbed his fish a little harder with his skewer to make his opinion of Luke’s employers known.

The smile on Luke’s face got impossibly wider. “That makes sense...Thank you.”

Din grunted. The smile on Luke’s face was too distracting.  Instead he looked down at his food. Oh. Right. Damn.

Luke made the exact realization at the same time. “Sorry! I forgot, I can go back to the ship--”

“Shut up and sit down, Jetti.” Din shook his head. He only hesitated for a half second before he reached up to his helmet and unlatched it. He opened it wide enough to take a bite.

“Or you could do that. Of course.” Luke babbled.  He turned his head so he wasn’t looking at Din.  Which was sweet. But also meant he wasn’t looking at his food.

“Eat.” Din growled. “All of it.” How was it this hard to feed a grown adult? Grogu gave him less trouble. Gods help Skywalker, Din was about to channel some of the fiercest warriors he knew to get him to eat more.

Luke gave him a mock solute. “Yes sir.”

Din began to reach for his sidearm.

Luke responded with a rather unnecessarily dainty bite of fish.

Din began to unhook his blaster.

Luke nibbled at one edge of a fin.

The blaster powered up.

Luke kriffing licked his fish.

“That’s disgusting.” Din gave up. He couldn’t help it--he chuckled as he powered down his blaster.

“Yeah it is,” Luke stuck his tongue out. “Fish is gross.”

“I thought you said you’d eat anything.”

“I do. I don’t have to like it.  I didn’t grow up eating fish, it’s both slimy and spikey at the same time.”

“You eat frogs.”

“You can eat a small frog in one bite! I’ve gotten fish bones stuck in my throat.”

“You’re not supposed to eat the bones.”

“Nobody told me that the first time. What part of ‘raised on a desert planet’ does no one understand?”

“You’re an idiot.”

Luke sat back. “I’m done now, mom. May I go now?”

Din sighed. “No.” He held out another fish skewer.

“You got to be kidding me.”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“How hard is the har--YIKES! NO! LETGO! ARGHHH!!!!!”

‘Yup’, Din thought to himself as he held the struggling, still too skinny, Jedi in a headlock.  He had it bad and he was going to regret this.

Tomorrow. He’ll regret it tomorrow.

“DJARIN LET ME GO NOW OR YOU’RE GOING IN THE SWAMP!”

Here’s hoping the desert boy could swim.

[blushing-starker]

don't expect that line I previously mentioned because I'm chaotic and forgot about @starkerfestivals amazing omegaverse week since it goes hand in hand with finals and my brain only fit one of these events in my mental planner

Today's theme is heat/rut and it's slightly nff, has some sexual teasing but nothing too explicit. I'd rate this teen, is all I'm saying. I apologize for any writing mistakes, I'm finishing this at 11pm before collapsing in my bed.

Tagging @vaguekiwi cuz I mentioned this to her today

Needy little alpha

------------

Tony wakes up to a purring alpha throwing himself on top of his defenseless body with the force of a freight train driven by a drunk man on drugs. Peter's been told a thousand times before how yes, he may be as heavy as a goddamn feather, but it still aches when that super strength plops down and refuses to let the victim's lungs function adequately. But his boyfriend is a sadist who loves cuddles and making Tony suffer.

"No."

"You love my cuddles," it's true, they bring him pain and purple bruises everywhere but there's nothing quite as soothing as a content alpha kneading like a kitten at his chest, " and you know it. "

"Uh, that's false. Never said I love cuddles. I tolerate your octopus habits, there's a difference." Peter leans back with a pout and teary eyes, wobbles that God forsaken bottom lip like he always does whenever Tony denies the kid something and presents a challenge.

Nimble fingers slide up into, unfortunately, silver hair and nonononono that's unfair. He snarls, tries to infuse the air with as many displeased pheromones as possible so Peter can take a hint when nails scratch right above his nape and Tony's done. Unravels at this hobgoblin's feet and he's half way sure his soul goes out in a huff as little circles are pressed into the exact spot that causes him so much neck pain.

Peter unashamedly preens when Tony melts into their bed and starts pawing at him for more cuddles. "Say you love my cuddles and I won't leave the bed for an hour. Throw in a kiss and I'll rub your back."

He hates(loves) this kid. Hates(loves) how he sing songs as soon as the situation doesn't favour the actually responsible adult in the relationship. Hates(loves) the way Peter never misses the places that leave him sinking into fluffy pillows. Hates how, oh that's nice.

There are tiny kisses littered on a chest glowing blue, small indentations from teasing lips pressed into spread arms and cold hands.

"Ruts gotten you needy, huh, little alpha?" Not that this one was any different from all the other ruts they've shared since dating. Tony secretly adores Peter like this, extra affectionate the minute his shyness and fear of outside criticism is washed away, replaced with the need to shower his omega in love and attention. Yes, Peter has his heart 365 days of the year. Yes, he'd die for his tiny spiderling no matter what.

But this is just really nice, ok? Previous lovers were rarely alphas so this ritual of gluing their bodies together when rut came was an added benefit to being with Peter. That and the hormones he let out while happy soothed Tony to no end.

Peter nips at his finger, still a bit too early on for him to accept the nicknames. He blushes though, a pale pink highlighting a face much more lovely than the cherubs painted on the cathedrals of Rome. Jesus, he's whipped and all they've done is cuddle.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

"I love your cuddles. Cherish them. Want them every day for the rest of my life. But I love you, my needy little alpha with a fantastic," there's a pillow smashed against his face.

"If you say dick, I'm climbing down to wrestle Bucky and I won't let Karen record it for your spank bank. " Oh, that's a low blow.

He relaxes, let's Peter sink into him with a startled yelp, rolls them over, sits on the kid's lap and clamps his knees around a trim waist. Peter may be Spider-Man, but he's Tony Stark and Tony Stark doesn't lose in bed.

Well. Not unless he wants to.

"You do that and you can say hello to your toy, the one I know is stashed in your old room under the bed in a comic book box, because that'll be the only thing helping you out when the rut really hits." Will Tony suffer immensely if that happens? Yes. He's a sucker for a needy Peter being ridiculously horny and possessive. Thing is, you don't threaten a man's spank bank. No sir. Everything else is fair play. His carefully organized folders of viewing material are not to be messed with.

Peter's blush is on full blast, spreads over a long neck and absolutely delicious, no. Be strong, Tony.

"You know about the toy?" It's a squeak, normal voice rocketing upwards thanks to the position Tony's ass is in and the knowledge that his secret is out. Which wasn't even a secret to begin with anyway because Tony is in love with the only genius not smart enough to erase his browser history in the lab's computer. Which Tony uses. Routinely. Every day.

"Know about it? I've seen it. You left it out once, all used up on your bed while you were showering. You remember that, don't you? We had sex in the bathroom that day. Bruised my back and everything?"

Peter furrows his brow, works a plush lip and no, look away, Tony, look away. The kid is sin and indulgence and heaven and no.

"Oh. Oh." Whenever he thinks his boy can't go any redder, Peter busts out a new shade of pink.

"Yup. So. I'm pretty sure this is what you wanted in the first place. Maybe it wasn't your intention," he stresses when Peter's already launching up and nearly throwing him off in an attempt to reassure Tony that wasn't his purpose with the cuddles, "but you certainly wouldn't have minded this outcome. And by this outcome I mean my incredible ass on top of that fantastic dick."

Peter tries to suffocate with a pillow held over his face.

"You've got two choices, kid. You threatened the spank bank. The teasing is fine, you know I love when my pretty kitty shows his claws," a hand slaps his arm, makes him grin, " But threatening such an integral part of my mental stability? Wrong move, Queens. You aren't getting any until tonight, not even so much as a French kiss will be given. Unless you let me bite a mark on that amazing neck and don't push me away when I nuzzle you in front of the team. "

Well. Now he's definitely being thrown off of Peter's lap.

He lands on the other side of the bed with a groan, is assaulted by a whining Peter intent on receiving something to further postpone the urge for sex that's sure to hit him soon enough.

An alpha, Tony's learned, will usually be very cuddly and affectionate the first few days of a rut week. Then the possessive, protective side will slowly emerge. Nests of pillows, couch cushions, blankets and favorite pieces of clothing appear on the fourth sunrise. The next morning comes with the need for relief, for intimacy and a marathon of sex that'll leave any supersoldier exhausted by the end of it. The resulting days offer comfort, an aftercare of sorts, where the alpha and their partner show a soft affection similar to the beginning. Nests are utilized and bodies soothed. It lasts, at most, a week and the majority of the population only has to take slightly increased portions of food.

That's for people without the metabolism of four grown men.

Peter needs sex, as much as possible, so the itch for urgent intimacy doesn't result in Tony tackled to the floor of the lab in the middle of an experiment every day of the week. It's like giving him nicotine patches instead of a cigarette.

So now he's whimpering, tugging on Tony's clothes just a little too hard if the ripping sound is any indication.

"...sorry, Tony..."

"It's fine, I've got more. I'm not letting this go though. The teams' seen us fuck against a wall, their opinion and respect, your worth, didn't change. So come on. Just one little mark. One. And Bucky nuzzles Steve and Sam all the time. Hell, Pepper sometimes nuzzles me when I'm stressed out. Please, baby? "

There it was; Tony's secret weapon. Peter blushed like a virgin on a wedding night whenever he used pet names, but the genius knows his boyfriend enjoys the familiarity and subtle intimacy. Felt reassured that they were a romantic couple and not a mentor fucking his protege.

The kid nibbles at his neck, wraps gangly limbs around a body that's always been his to take comfort in. "Just one mark? And light, I mean it, Tony, light nuzzling in front of the team. For today. Then I can get what I want?"

He snorts, can't fully comprehend how the universe paired him up with someone so intent on making Tony's joints ache and creak. "Yeah, we can have sex later, Mr Charming. Subtle as brick, that Spider-Man. Let's go get you cleaned up, make sure that rut has a hard time getting my boy under the weather."

He goes to get up. He leans forward. He cannot, in fact, leave the bed.

Peter bites with a bit more pressure, drops his hips down harder and Jesus Christ, they're never seeing the light of the kitchen if his boyfriend can't wait til it's dark.

"Or..."

"I'm an old man, I need protein before you go jumping tired bones that have to spend two hours updating your suit." Ok, so maybe he's slightly bitter and annoyed at not having enough stamina (or refractory period, for that matter) to keep up with a repressed teenage superhuman. It's not his fault Pepper keeps bringing Krispy Kreme donuts to the office meetings.

It'd be rude not to eat with the others anyway.

"You don't have to do anything." Ah, it's one of those ruts.

Tony softens, smoothes a hand down a back that could hold a plank under a five story building with ease, kisses a heated cheek.

"Needy little alpha." It's his turn to whisper and nuzzle against soft skin.

"Kind, not so little omega?" Tony laughs, presses their lips together so Peter can see what's it like to taste a smile radiating with joy and love. Slowly clicks the button on the nearest nightstand; unless someone is dying , it'll just be the two of them in the room.

(There was an incident once. Groot may have been traumatized by a situation involving superstrength, webs and the Ironette costume Tony only adored when it adorned Peter's body.)

"I do so love my needy little alpha needing me, don't I?"

His boyfriend blinks, grins at Tony as if he's just hung the moon and stars for his spiderling and ok, a little sex early in the morning isn't that bad.

"You love my cuddles too."

"Shut up and kiss me, Queens. I'm not getting any-"

They don't talk about anything too important after that.

----------

A little sex early in the morning actually is that bad when you miss a meeting with the U.N and show up smelling like sex, infatuation and, oddly enough, strawberry.

Rocket doesn't stop teasing for months.

[weasleyswizardpleases]

Retail Therapy: Pt 2

Summary: You work in a trinket shop in Hogsmeade while spending Christmas break at Hogwarts. A certain pair of redheads can’t seem to stay away, but they never buy anything. Suffice it to say, your boring holiday job is about to get a lot more interesting. 

Warnings: Cursing, food. This section is not nsfw but it definitely will be in later parts. I’ll write it so that it makes sense if you stop reading before the v explicit chapter too!

A few days later, you hear the twins before you see them, as usual. You watch through the shopfront windows as they jeer and enchant snowballs to chase their little brother down before Hermione Granger waves them away, shaking her wand threateningly. They giggle and run across the street towards your shop, and you pretend to be rearranging the ornament display as they come in the door, looking up coyly after a few moments.

“Hello, Fred, Hello, George.” you say. “Taking refuge from the long arm of the law, in my shop, I see.”

“I suppose you could consider us renegades, wouldn’t you say Fred?”

“Yes George, I like to think of myself as something of an outlaw.” Fred says cockily.

“Ring the bell if you need me, I’ve got to run in the back for a moment.” you say, excusing yourself after a few moments of silence.

From the other room, you overhear snatches of their conversation as you prepare an order form to be sent out.

“She obviously hasn’t gotten it yet.” one says glumly.

“Well sure, genius, if she had, she would say something. Wouldn’t she?” the other hisses. 

“I suppose so. Unless she misinterpreted it.”

“It’s pretty clear, especially the part-” a bin lid opens and slams again in the alley behind the shop, drowning out the end of his sentence. 

“She might not have even opened-” A loud conversation by the trash throwers away outside overpowers his sentence. You give up. By the time the noise dissipates, they’ve moved on to admiring Bustle. You return to the main shop and Fred has the cat on his shoulder like a baby about to be burped, his face buried in its fur. 

“He likes chin scratches, you know.” you say, smiling and reaching out to pat Bustle yourself. George’s hand brushes your own as he reaches over to scratch as instructed, and a thrill of electricity runs through you. You notice that both of the boys are blushing, and wonder if you are too. They smell of butterbeer and slightly of mothballs, perhaps from their thick sweaters. You realize you’re standing a bit too close and take a step back.

“He’s a great cat. If you want to bring him a treat, he loves salami.” you say awkwardly, moving to take your place behind the counter. They nod and replace Bustle next to the cash register, his preferred seat.

“We’ll be back, then.” says George, smiling. Or maybe it’s Fred. You’re not very sure which is which, but it seems rude to ask. You sit and ponder what you heard, 

Just a few minutes after the boys leave, Luna Lovegood comes in, munching on a cookie.

“I brought you one,” she says, pulling up a stool to join you behind the counter. Luna is your only close friend who elected to stay for the holidays this year. She likes wandering the castle and grounds unaccompanied, and what better time than when they’re nearly empty?

You take the cookie and nibble on it pensively.

“It’s cranberry and oatmeal from Honeydukes. Are you interested in Fred and George Weasley?” she says bluntly.

“Straight to the point as always, Luna.” you say, faltering. “I don’t know, I… well, they come in here all the time and play with Bustle and steal my candy canes and act sort of oddly, but…”

“They’re quite handsome. I think they like you.” she says steadily, staring off into the distance as she finishes her cookie. “I met a pixie today. She had a broken arm so I mended it with a twig. I don’t understand why people hate pixies so much.”

“Wild guess, but could it be because they’re massively annoying pests? Anyway, why do you think Fred and George like me? Also, Fred and George? Are you sure you can tell them apart?”

“Of course.” she says, looking at you inquisitively. “Can’t you? George has a much more grounded energy. And Fred is much louder, although…” she trails off distractedly, twirling a pencil on the countertop. “They’re both quite loud.” she finishes, looking sort of sadly disappointed in your lack of observational skills. “Do you want to work on tea leaf divination with me later? I want to try with mulberry leaf this time.” she asks, standing up to go.

“Sure, I’ll come by when I’m off work.” you say, shaking your head. Luna can be very insightful, but having a straightforward conversation with her is impossible. You resolve not to let her know you have any interest in Fred or George by asking her again why she suspects that they like you. Honestly, you trust her observations. If Luna thinks it, it’s probably true.

“Oh, and I have this for you. I ran into Mrs. Brimwell in the square earlier and she gave it to me for you.” Luna pulls a letter from her satchel and hands it to you, pocketing a handful of small stones from a tumbled rock display as she drifts out the door. 

The note reads, in all caps: THIEVES GET OUT OF HAND IN HOLIDAY CROWDS. CRACK DOWN ON INVENTORY LOSS. LOSSES COME OUT OF YOUR PAY!! -MONICA B. You groan. You know that most of the shop owners in Hogsmeade are aware of the students’ petty thieving habits, but only a few ever really choose to do anything about it, and you always thought Mrs. Brimwell was one of the more relaxed ones. Apparently not. You snort and toss the note on the counter. For a moment you think to call out after Luna and make her put the stones back, but she’s long gone down the street. You’ll just have to figure it out.

[lucycola]

HI! Idk if it works well as a one shot but had an idea for a f!reader who is close with Din (or even Spock, I’m not picky) and begins fainting a lot. She tries to brush it off, but he gets more and more worried for her safety, so much so that he catches her a lot of the times as he’s on such high alert and is learning the signs Anyways pretty random but I trust you to do whatever you want with it🙏 thank youuu

This is my first time writing the Mandalorian so I’m hella scared aight. Jedi!Reader travels with Din and baby, seeking out the other Jedi to train her. Reader has feelings for Din. Din is his usual distant self at first. Elusively affectionate at times. They don’t know each other’s names because I like to make things difficult. Bits of Jedi telepathy between Reader and baby.

WARNINGS: Self starvation, fainting, FLUFF

You forewent food so often it was beginning to show. You had always been taut and toned thanks to fighting and fending off raiders and scavengers, but you were dropping weight rather quickly. You remedied this by wearing thick layers over your tunic, claiming the Razorcrest was too cold. You were stubborn in the least, but there had to be enough food for the baby and the Mandalorian. It wasn’t the first time you skipped a meal and it wasn’t such a big deal really. You wanted to make sure the baby or Mando didn’t go without.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t only making you thinner. You had random bouts of dizziness to the point that you stowed yourself away in the tiny compartment you called a bunk and lay there till the spell passed. You did your best to hide it from the both of them. The less trouble you caused, the better. This ride was practically free (so long as you helped with the baby).

The first instance you gave yourself away was speaking casually to the metal man in the cockpit about...well you couldn’t remember. The bout was sudden and you felt the edges of your vision blacken.

The Mandalorian had noticed your cease in speech and eyed you curiously. You were stone still with your right palm over your stomach.

You could feel the hammer of your heart in your ears and soon a total sheet of black was pulled over your heads as your head kissed the floor of the cockpit.

You were awoken to gloved hands fastened about your shoulders, giving them a firm shake.

“--hey! Wake up,” came the deep baritone voice through its modulator.

Your eyes blinked open to find your blurry reflection in his helmet.

“Oh!” you mouthed and scrambled back on the floor, “I’m sorry!”

You had to press you forehead to your hands. Even that movement costed you as another wave of dizziness came upon you.

“Are you alright?” he asked in a sympathetic tone you rarely heard and it was only ever directed at the baby. You felt your face flush. You felt pathetic.

“I’m fine I just...I just...”

“You just fainted.”

“It’s never happened before. I have no idea-I need to go.”

You carefully maneuvered yourself up and held the wall with your left and forehead with your right.

The Mandalorian did not press you for much more as that was his nature. Any questions he inquired were a gift and any conversation longer than three sentences was miracle.

You flung yourself face first on he ratty mattress and felt it then. The strong grumbling in your stomach.

x

After another another spell that left you waking up under a freezing stream of water in the fresher deterred you from being alone with your host longer than ten minutes. You turned your one meal a day into smaller divisions to eat more frequently in hope of warding off the spells. You still continued to feel dizzy a few times a day.

“That was...long,” the Mandalorian commented as you rushed by him, still dripping wet.

“I fell asleep,” you blushed and made your way back to your mattress.

A cute babble erupted from a lump in your blanket and you grinned. “Who’s hiding under there?”

You scooped up the baby who immediately pushed his tiny nose to yours and rubbed it in a little kiss as a greeting.

“Do you wanna sleep with me tonight, goose?” you asked, tickling his stomach, prodding further giggling. You arched a brow at the rectangular lump protruding next to the baby’s hiding place. You knelt down and as you did felt your heart beat louden in your ears. You blinked a few times, trying to steady your blurry vision. You opted to sit down instead and pulled out what the baby had been hiding with. You pulled out your family’s saber and gave him a stern face.

“You...can’t play with...this,” you struggled to say, feeling your vision going south again.

You closed your eyes and breathed deeply through your nose. You hugged the baby to your chest and he watched you in wonder with his big doe eyes. He tilted his head to one side and slowly met your cheeks with both hands.

You saw a vision of you passing out, hitting the grass beneath your feet. It was another spell you had while at a camp you and the Mandalorian had made while on Andraulus II. He had been away (thank the Maker) and it saved you the embarrassment of being shaken awake again.

You opened your eyes to be met by the slobbery big stare of the baby making the cutest concerned face.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, a little annoyed that it seemed he was always watching you somehow. You had to still your habit of swearing just because of it. ”Just don’t tell Mando, alright?”

“Tell me what.”

The Mandalorian was perched in the doorway of your bunk, leaned up against it casually. You felt your heart quicken. That sneaky bucket-head! For someone who wore clunky, heavy-as-hell beskar he was light on his feet.

Your face flamed. “I-I was-”

The baby clicked the button of your saber causing the blue to flash up.

“Stop that, now,” you chided the little fellow. “You can’t play with it. It was my grandfather’s. It’s very special and dangerous. Go to your papa, now.”

You re-sheathed the saber in on itself and handed the baby off to the ready arms of his father.

Once again the Mandalorian didn’t press any further and simply turned on his heel and left. You fell back in the mattress and huffed.

x

It hit you again in front on the Mandalorian again in the cockpit one day after a length trek to find a bounty. You had pushed to go with him for some reason he had let you.

“Think you can keep up this time, Jedi?” A cross between playful banter and a stern warning. You could never tell with him. He terrified you, but also excited you.

“Better than you, bucket head,” you quipped back.

“No more surprise naps.”

You blushed.

“I--”

“Head out.”

He patted your head making you feel smaller than you already were (you were over a head shorter than he) and continued past you into the forest.

You both returned safely and with no dizzy spells. You mad sure to drink as much water as you could and even allowed yourself a little nibble.

When you both returned with a body in tow he went to encase it in carbonite and you went to find his baby fighting sleep in your bunk again.

After rocking him and settling him down you joined the Mandalorian in the cockpit and carefully sat in the copilot’s chair. As soon as you sat you felt a wave of dizziness envelop your head. It was quicker this time. You clutched your stomach and swayed. You felt a gloved hand with a steel grip clutch your shoulder. Without sound he was beside you, peering down at you.

“What’s wrong with you.” The question was phrased as a demand.

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve had enough of that.”

“I’m just really tired.” You made to stand and almost keeled over. A swift arm swept under your knees and you were being cradled to cold beskar.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered.

He softly walked to your bunk. “If there’s something wrong, you need to tell me. I can’t have you going out like that on a retrieval. It’s hard enough to watch your back and my own, not adding fighting off enemies with you slung on my shoulder.”

“I’m not useless,” you mumbled. You could fight amateurly with the saber, but you had been practicing with a blaster.

“You are unconscious.”

He set you down next to the baby quietly. You laid there and he towered over you, making you shiver.

“What’s wrong with you.”

“I’m exhausted.”

You were surprised to hear him sigh under the cover of the modulator. It was soft and tired in itself.

“Little Jedi,” he murmured, his name for you.

When it came to introducing one another after your third run in he replied to the standard “Who are you?” with “Someone who’s tired of saving your ass”.

“I was the one doing the ass saving. You almost lost your helmet back there, bucket-head.”

“Are you a Jedi?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure.”

“Who are you?”

“Someone who’s tired of saving your ass.”

You wrapped your arms around the sleeping baby. “Are you mad now?”

“No,” and then with a touch of finality, “Don’t lie to me again.”

The tone of his voice sent heat blooming in your belly.

“Goodnight, bucket-head.”

“Goodnight, little Jedi.”

x

A few days later you were being shaken awake again and immediately your hearing was flooded by the cries of the baby. You had fainted with the child in your arms and sudden panic filled your chest.

The Mandalorian had found you in the hole, spread eagle on your back with the baby wailing to the top of its lungs.

You reached for him groggily and the Mandalorian snatched him up before you could. You were left to look around confused a few moments before the baby had been hushed.

“What in the hell is wrong with you!” an angry voice came from above.

You looked up to see a very tall Mandalorian, coddling the little green bundle.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could offer. Your head slumped forward.

“Something is wrong with you and you keep skipping around like it’s fine,” he halfway barked, “He could’ve gotten hurt. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

You rubbed the back of your head. “It’s not so bad this time,” you mumbled.

The Mandalorian squatted to your level and snapped your head to face him with his free hand.

“And what if he hit his head?”

You eyes widened. Mando was right.

“I’m giving you one last chance to tell me or I’m strapping you to your bed.”

His interrogation was interrupted by the intense grumbling of your stomach.

The baby pointed to it, looking at his father as if to say, See? I tried to tell you.

“Ah,” the Mandalorian looked at you knowingly. “You’re not eating enough.”

“I don’t want to eat all of our food,” you pleaded, “You and the baby need more than me. I’ll be fine with just a little.”

“Not if you keep fainting like this.”

You both were silent a moment and you could feel his glaring at you through his helmet.

“Am in trouble?’

“Big trouble.”

x

Then came the Mandalorian’s restless tirade of nearly force-feeding you every hour. Your stomach had shrunk considerably since you started skipping meals and it was hard to go back to a regular eating schedule. The dizziness still hit you now and again, but Mando had learned the signs. He’d watch your eyes get big and far away and you always held your stomach with your right hand. Then plunk! You’d go down.

He’d made a point to always be a few feet from you, sometimes even trailing you when you walked to make sure you were alright. Often you were practically confined by command to a chair. You were steadied when swaying in the chair and swooped up when standing. Even if you were only dizzy and had not fainted you were still cradled to his chest fiercely every time you showed signs.

It was so endearing and you were horribly embarrassed.

After one occasion you were swept up and awoke to still be in his arms. He hadn’t moved a muscle and stood there, holding you tight.

“Mando?”

“You need to eat.”

“If I do I’ll throw up.”

He sighed.

“How long was I out?” You pressed your head to the cool beskar, breathing in his scent.

“About a minute.” He was already walking lightly to the bunks.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

He deposited you in his bunk instead (by mistake?) and left you there confused. He returned shortly with water and made you drink at least half.

“Little Jedi,” he sighed again. “Who in the world are you?”

You looked up at him adoringly. He had never bothered to ask again in all your travels together and you hadn’t asked out of fear and respect. You didn’t know if the Mandalore had names once they donned their helmets.

“Y/N,” you said quietly, “My name is Y/N.” After a beat, “Who are you?”

“My name is Din.”

The name tasted sweet on your tongue and sounded heavenly in your ears.

“Now we know each other,” you smiled.

“Yes,” you could almost hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, “Now we know one another.”

A soft hand skimmed the side of your face. The feeling of warm flesh shocked you. You hadn’t even seen him take off his glove.

“Promise me,” he said sternly, contradicting his touch, “You won’t starve yourself again.”

“I promise, Din.”

He patted your head. “Very good, little one. Very good.”

FIN

[shadyufo]

pardon my ignorance but I've never really been around horses, how do they... show personality? I mean what makes a horse a sweetheart or something? I'm just really curious and a lil confused haha

No worries, Anon! Fair warning though, you instigated a long and rambling reply here, haha. 

I’d call almost any horse sweet, to be honest. They can just be such wonderfully goofy, charming, and delightful creatures. There are of course a few that can be downright dangerous and mean (there’s usually some history of trauma or health-related issues going on in those cases *edit: or too much testosterone, lol) and some definitely have bad habits though, like one gelding I met last month while looking for a friend for Sandy. I walked him around the arena a couple of times and came out of it with four “love bite” bruises that lasted for ages and were sore as shit. Still have a little scar on my shoulder where one broke the skin. He wasn’t being malicious about it, just using his mouth to check me out like a child using their hands to investigate something new, but their teeth can definitely cause damage even when they don’t mean too (I’ve still got a knot in one knuckle where Sandy bit me on accident about a decade ago; I heard a crunch and a “pop” and was sure my finger was gone, haha). That can often be trained out of them but I just didn’t want him gnawing on Sandy. But he had a nice temperament and I’d still say he was a sweet old guy—just a tad on the mouthy side, haha. 

Horses are just like any other animals (including people!) though—they each have their own unique personalities. Some are extroverts and some are introverts. Some are leaders and some are followers. Some are more laid-back and sedate while others are more high-strung and flighty. Some take life very seriously, others are more playful and mischievous. Some are filled with endless energy and love nothing more than to run. My Mom had a gelding when she was a teenager named "Go-Boy" for this very reason—he loved to run and never wanted to stop. And then others are just more into naps and chilling which I can totally relate to, haha.

There are some special ones who may be a combination of any of the above but they are also just as gentle and yes, "sweet," as can be. They want to be around you and seem pleased to see you, whether or not you have a feed bucket in hand or treats in your pocket. They are curious to see what you are up to and just seem happy to be in your presence.

Of course training and an animal's history can make an impact on their behavior and shape them to a degree but each individual animal will still be unique and have their own one-of-a-kind personalities.

Sandy is a very no-nonsense sort of mare. Her main focus in life is food. When I brought Bo home she immediately started nibbling and nuzzling on him like a mare with a foal and she led him all around the pasture, showed him the barn, and took him to meet Doc and Abraham, the geldings next door. But then that evening as soon as she saw me coming with the feed bucket she pinned her ears at him and wouldn’t let him get near the feeding area. She’s mostly gotten over the feeding time drama now but yeah, just don’t mess with her food and she’ll be a sweetheart, haha. 

Russell was a big, goofy, baby. He weighed around 1500 lbs in his prime but if something scared him he’d run and hide behind little old Sandy. I’d give them a bit of watermelon once in a while as a special treat and while Sandy would always just rip hers apart and eat it all, Russell would very daintily use his teeth to scrape all the meat out then leave the rind behind (which Sandy would chomp up). And in the end, even with all the times I had to give him medication and stick him with needles and harass him with visit after visit from vets, still on that last day he laid down and felt safe enough for me hold his head in my lap while he napped for a long time. He was most definitely a sweet, special boy and I still feel like part of me is missing with him gone.

I'm still learning Bo's personality. He's just a youngster in a new place after all so he’s still settling in and also in the process of evolving into what he'll be like as an adult. Like humans, an animal’s life experiences mold their personalities over time. But even with all the overworking and untreated health issues he’s had going on for who knows how long he still doesn't lash out or run away when I have to give him his medication. 

He’s definitely a playful little guy though. The other evening I watched him chomp down on their jolly ball (a heavy-duty, basketball-sized rubber ball with a handle on it for horses to play with) and take off galloping across the pasture with it between his teeth. I have yet to find it, haha. He loves knocking their rubber feed buckets off the fence to play with them too.

So yeah, long and very rambling way of saying horses are really cool critters with big and beautiful personalities. <3 Hope that helps answer your question, Anon!

[elwenyere]

A Very Small Grease Fire (and Other Human Disasters)

(Thanksgiving ficlet for the Stony and Avengers fam; also on AO3)

The Avengers didn’t have the best track record with Thanksgiving. The first time the dinner had ended in disaster, it had been Steve’s fault. One rainy fall Sunday, just months after the Battle of New York, Steve had been picking at a bowl of mint-chip ice cream, feeling tired of getting looks of sympathy about the holidays and absolutely exhausted by feeling sorry for himself. If Bruce and Clint hadn’t chosen that particular afternoon to ask him whether there was anything special he wanted for Thanksgiving – raising the question with just enough gentleness to make Steve’s jaw tighten – he probably would have said, “I’m a sweet potatoes guy” and left it at that.

Instead, Steve had been seized by a spirit of mischief. Putting on his most morose poker face, he had proceeded to invent a series of Depression-era dishes, from “Hoover Rolls” to “Poor Man’s Potatoes,” the recipes for which he concocted out of the blandest ingredients he could imagine. By the time he was in the process of describing his third Crisco-based dessert, Steve was sure he had gone far enough to reveal the joke; but Bruce and Clint had continued nodding encouragingly and jotting down notes.

The results had been borderline inedible. And even though the sight of Tony doubled over with laughter when Steve finally fessed up had thawed out a part of his heart he hadn’t even known was still on ice, the experience of eating a holiday dinner in which half the dishes tasted like over-starched socks forced even Steve to admit that the prank had been a bit of a Pyrrhic victory.

The second time…well, Steve would have said the second time was his fault too – though he supposed the rest of the team would blame the extremists who tried to kidnap the governor. Clint had just started basting the turkey when the “Assemble” alarm went off, and the team had to pile in the Quinjet to deal with a hostage situation at the capitol. It should have been an easy job – in and out with plenty of time to take the butter for the piecrust out of the freezer – but then one of the extremists had pulled the pin on a grenade just yards away from a state senator’s eight-year-old son, and four hours later Steve was waking up in the burn unit at Walter Reed hospital with the anguished sound of someone shouting his name still ringing in his ears.

“You fucking idiot,” the same voice had greeted him, and Steve looked up to see Tony sitting by his bed, the lines around his eyes drawn tight over a surgical mask. “You’re supposed to be a tactical genius, and you haven’t learned a single new method for containing explosives since basic training in 1943? I’m going to equip your suit with goddamn ballistic plates.”

“Tony,” Steve managed, feeling a halo of pain radiate up his scalp. “Are you okay? Was anyone hurt?”

Steve thought he saw something mist across Tony’s eyes, but he couldn’t be sure. The more fully he became aware of his body, the more he noticed the pull of his skin cells contracting in uneven loops around the burns on his torso, and it was taking a considerable amount of energy to keep Tony’s face in focus.

“Everybody’s fine but you, Steve,” Tony assured him. “And the doctors said you should be able to move to the general floor in a few hours. So shut those baby blues and let the serum do its job, because there’s a whole team of keyed-up superheroes waiting to see you, and they’re emptying the hospital vending machines fast enough to cause a run on the Frito-Lay factory.”

Steve had drifted in and out of consciousness for a while after that, finally waking up long enough to eat a holiday dinner of contraband take-out, which Natasha had smuggled into the hospital using only Thor’s tendency to knock over delicate instruments and Bruce’s oversized jacket.

“When you sign up to be an Avenger, no one warns you about doing overtime as a falafel mule,” Bruce had mused, leaning back to let Natasha steal a fry off his plate.

“I still think we could have gotten that eighth kebab if you’d been willing to consider pant legs as additional real estate,” she told him.

"You should all be eating stuffing and pumpkin pie,” Steve grimaced. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here on Thanksgiving.”

“Listen, Cap,” Clint replied, waving a dolma at him, “if you’re going to apologize for anything, apologize for the purgatory potatoes you tricked me into making last year. At least this year we have food that doesn’t have the texture of fast-drying cement.”

“Those tubers had truly been abandoned by the gods,” Thor agreed solemnly. “But I maintain that the Big Band Banana Pie was actually quite delicious.”

“Just don’t make the third-degree burns and hypovolemic shock a holiday habit, Rogers,” Tony put in. “Some of us are trying to watch our blood pressure.”

Tony had leaned over to adjust the settings on Steve’s bed as he spoke, and by the time he finished, a dull tugging sensation across Steve’s chest had loosened – the pain subsiding almost before Steve could register that it had been bothering him.

So that was why, after two years of throwing wrenches in the Avengers’ Thanksgiving plans, Steve was determined to make sure that year three went off without a hitch. He’d drawn up an elaborate plan for maximizing the utility of the Tower kitchen’s two ovens and seven burners and for optimizing the team’s various culinary skills. The operatives had been briefed the night before, and by 10:30 AM on Thursday, Steve was fluting a pie crust, Bruce was stripping fresh thyme leaves into an herb blend, Clint was whipping up a roux for the mushroom gravy, Thor was mashing potatoes and parsnips in an industrial-strength metal vat, and Natasha was dicing carrots and celery with a speed and precision that felt vaguely unsettling.

After checking the team’s progress against his itinerary, Steve turned to the next task on his own list: bringing Tony Stark his emergency coffee. Bruce had just made a second pot, and Steve poured some into the largest cup he could find: a purple novelty mug, featuring a drawing of the Hulk and the words “You Wouldn’t Like Me Without My Coffee.” He paused to tuck a few biscuits into a napkin (Tony’s relief at sighting fresh coffee sometimes opened up a narrow window during which Steve could feed him breakfast without being noticed), and headed down to the lab.

He found Tony standing with both arms braced against his worktable, designs for what looked like the paneling of Steve’s uniform projected in front of him. Steve cleared his throat, and Tony whirled around, the slump of his shoulders morphing into a graceful lounge by the time he was facing Steve.

“I was just about to come up,” he said. “I have a few finishing touches left here and then I’m all yours, Cap. Give me everything that can survive being the tiniest bit overcooked.”

Steve walked over to put Tony’s coffee on the table and then felt his breath catch in his throat when Tony reached out and took the mug from his hand instead.

“There’s no need,” Steve responded to cover his reaction, flexing the hand that had brushed Tony’s as he let it fall back to his side. “We’ve got the schedule covered for now. I was actually hoping I could talk you into a snack break.”

He waved the napkin of biscuits experimentally.

“Are you cutting me from the Thanksgiving roster, Rogers?” Tony asked. “Just because one time I set a very small grease fire – which I contained almost immediately, by the way.”

“The vase I broke when I sprinted into the kitchen would beg to differ,” Steve smiled. “But it’s not that. I just wanted to do this for you: a big dinner and sitting down with family.”

“For me?” Tony blinked at him. “Why?”

Steve started to cross his arms across his chest before realizing that he would risk crushing the biscuits. He settled for clasping his wrist with his free hand instead, widening his stance slightly and taking a deep breath. Come on, Rogers. Take it on the chin.

“Because I wanted to tell you that I woke up in this century alone,” he said, “and that you were the first person stubborn enough to make sure I wouldn’t stay that way. Now I wake up to a kitchen full of people who tease me about my lists but who know why I need them – who will eat dinner rolls that taste like soggy chalk just to make me feel at home.” He paused. “People who stay by my side for eight straight hours at the hospital.”

Steve looked up and caught Tony’s eyes, his heart rate picking up speed as memories of those same eyes flashed through his mind in quick succession: tearing up with laughter over a plate of cornstarched bananas, pinched with fear over a surgical mask, narrowed in concentration over the remote control for an adjustable bed.

“Romanov has an awfully big mouth for a spy,” Tony said with a rueful smile.

“I think it was a tactical leak,” Steve acknowledged, “to motivate her mark. She knew I needed a push. Because I’ve messed up the past two years, and I needed to tell you: pretty much everything I’m thankful for in my new life is here because of you.”

Tony was staring at him, his eyes darting quickly across Steve’s face as if JARVIS were scanning it for data. Steve held up under the silent scrutiny as long as he could before letting out an explosive breath.

“Anyway, sorry to interrupt you,” he said quickly. “You’ve got work to do, and I’ve got to go make sure everything’s on track upstairs. I’ll uh – I’ll have Bruce come get you when dinner’s ready.”

He started to make an about face toward the door, but Tony caught his arm and held him in place.

“Give a guy a goddamn minute, Steve,” he said softly. “I’m having to do a major cognitive reboot over here. It takes a while for the operating system to come back online. Just…sit down? Let me show you the new flame retardants I’m adding to your uniform.”

Steve complied. And as he watched Tony run through the specs, gulping coffee and nibbling absently at the biscuits, he realized that he knew what Tony was saying even before Tony finally spoke the words: “I’m thankful every time you wake up.”