#im sure its been done but goddamn

[auspex]

[fear-no-mort]

thinkign about how alone and unloved morty was for all his life and rick was the first time anyobdy ever put such an amount of intense attention and dependency onto him . and rick had a whole new family and losing them made him stop seeing the value in other people as a whole and morty was the one and first thing that woke him up

[arundolyn]

ohhhh my fucking god nobody needs to like know any of this medical tmi but it is literally 11 pm and if im kept up one minute longer when i just laid down trying to go to sleep by my mother YELLING REPEATEDLY that she needs to pee. im going to actually go insane. she got a catheter in. Yesterday. it is working. she won't listen to anyone when they tell her that this is the case. help me jesus. im sure if a nurse comes to check on her tomorrow they'll probably get the same response. my brain will simply explode

[orbmanson7]

:(

Very bad grade in therapy today

[zelda-posting]

tears of the kingdom could have been so good if it were built around like, its story or its characters instead of being a clunky shell to show off the mechanic no one asked for that it forces you to use

[sixofkaz]

Girl i think your husband is kinda shitty. He doesn't care about your feelings

nah he's not like that all the time. he's actually v sweet and caring. he's just so goddamn STUBBORN and the frustration usually ends up coming out in the tags of tumblr posts haha

[lateseptemberdawn]

"I've been so devastated by what's been going on in the world I feel so depressed I haven't moved from my bed I couldn't get up" and then "hehe I got a new ipad just cuz I didn't need it but hehe aestheticsss ✨" like I'm disgusted. How even. I cannot. Girl do you even hear yourself.

[tgcg]

an open fly walking

i didnt like this one but i thought id finally air it out since its been sat in my folders for months now

TG: hey karkat

CG: YEAH?

===

TG: you ever noticed you like

TG: walk weird

CG: WOW, OKAY.

CG: HAVE *YOU* EVER NOTICED THAT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT?

TG: pff

===

TG: no listen because i got my ears scoping that shit im like a scouter for dude activity

TG: ok maybe me mentioning it to you is gonna fuck up your ecosystem or something but

TG: you have the heaviest feet of the century man

CG: I DO???

TG: just thrust them straight down into the ground like youre trying to homebrew a san andreas fault

TG: viciously tamping on tectonic plates hoping for top score on the richter scale

TG: waging war against solid particles and the basic flow of gravity

TG: i could ID those footfalls out of a million i mean it

CG: SERIOUSLY?

===

TG: i mean theres nothing wrong with it but

TG: yeah

CG: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU'RE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW.

TG: im not fucking with you striders honor

TG: when have i ever lied to anybody about anything

CG: NOT UNPACKING THAT QUESTION WITH YOU TODAY.

CG: BUT SHIT, HOLD ON. LET ME SEE.

TG: yeah take the umbrella go over there and just walk to me

CG: ON IT.

===

===

TG: see you just kinda slam em straight down dude

CG: THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY RIOTOUS FUCKING JOKE OF A LIFE.

TG: dont your feet ache

===

CG: MOOT POINT. THIS MIGHT SOUND INSANE BUT I'VE ACTUALLY HAD MY STRUT PODS FOR A WHILE. ANY KIND OF PAIN THIS WOULD'VE BEEN CAUSING WOULD BE TOTALLY FILTERED OUT OF MY SPONGE BY NOW AS BACKGROUND NOISE.

TG: damn i didnt think that through

TG: my shades

CG: ALRIGHT, GET BACK UNDER THE SHITTING UMBRELLA AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME.

TG: look ive fucked myself over here too i dont have shit to clean these with

TG: ugh

===

TG: guess its karma

CG: HOLY FUCK. HOW DID I NEVER NOTICE THIS BEFORE?

TG: i dunno but im gonna assume having a dad thats a literal crab monster is probably a contributing factor

TG: im guessing thats not a great role model for this kinda thing

TG: just conjecture i mean

CG: YOUR ENVY IS OVERWHELMINGLY OBVIOUS DAVE. AS A DISCLAIMER, HE WOULD'VE ABSOLUTELY KICKED YOUR ASS.

TG: yeah probably

CG: THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL THERE IS TO SAY ON THE MATTER.

===

TG: but see bro had me stringent on feather feets

TG: i bet i could slip across a bike horn warehouse with nary a fucking toot

CG: HAHA. ASSUMING YOU DON'T MAKE A TOTAL ASS OF YOURSELF, AS PER USUAL.

CG: IF YOU WEREN'T CONSTANTLY RUNNING YOUR GASH ABOUT EVERYTHING AND BEING AN INIMITABLE CLOWN I SERIOUSLY THINK YOU COULD BE ON PAR WITH YOUR CUSTODIAN.

CG: THAT IS A MONUMENTAL "IF".

TG: well look at it this way

TG: im basically doing you all a favor by being a dumbass

TG: never gonna get caught off guard by the bozo patrol

CG: WOW. GOOD POINT.

===

TG: also screw this can i use your shirt

TG: this stupid hoodie is just smudging my lenses up

TG: i cant see dick

CG: UH

CG: SURE, I GUESS.

TG: cool

===

TG: so yeah i could be prowling around like a goddamn verbal assassin sniping convos left and right

TG: but no ive got the decency to go bunp in the night

CG: YEAH.

CG: IT'S DEFINITELY COMPOUNDED BY THE CONSTANT INANE RAMBLINGS.

CG: BUT

CG: IT'S ACTUALLY PRETTY RELAXING, Y'KNOW? IT HAS ITS OWN RHYTHM.

TG: see yeah i sound it off and

===

TG: wait really?

CG: YEAH

CG: I DON'T KNOW

CG: FUCK. HOW DO I EXPLAIN THIS WITHOUT WANTING TO CRAM MY FROND DOWN MY PROTEIN CHUTE.

===

CG: IT'S LIKE

CG: A SALVE FOR MY AGGRAVATION SPONGE.

CG: YOUR VOICE IS THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT OF ASPIRIN.

TG: uh damn karkat hold your hoofbeasts i was talking about the rhythm thing

CG: ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. I'M TAKING US BOTH THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW. YOU HAVE REACHED THE BAD END OF THIS CONVERSATION.

TG: you think thatd be heroic or just

CG: IF I WAS STILL GHOSTING AROUND THE RUINS OF SGRUB'S ARCANE FRIGGIN GAME SYSTEMS, THE COMPLETE LACK OF SHIT AFOOT NOWADAYS WOULD BORE ME TO DEATH.

CG: LIKE. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME OUR THERMAL HULL LEVELLED UP, DAVE?

TG: hah

===

TG: but uh

TG: i mean we had aspirin on earth

CG: NO, NUMBNUBS.

CG: I'M SAYING YOU ARE MY ASPIRIN.

TG: oh

CG: YEAH, TAKE THAT TO THE BANK AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR 20-KARAT ASS.

===

TG: heh

TG: well get this

TG: i will literally talk at you forever for free

TG: you got lifetime priority seating for the davealogues

TG: never gotta go to the drugstore again you can just get doped up on my dulcet tones for the rest of time

TG: take that and some of this

TG: im packin punches

CG: OW, FUCK! NO! MY MIGRAINES!

CG: SWEEPS OF VEINCLOTTING AND NERVEFRAYING DOWN THE FUCKING GAPER. BECAUSE OF YOU.

CG: YOU ASSHOLE, THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME.

CG: AND YOU'RE LAUGHING.

TG: chuckle up it only gets worse from here

===

CG: BE HONEST WITH ME. DID FONDLING MY SHIRT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET EVEN DO ANYTHING?

TG: barely but yknow sometimes you just gotta deal the cards youre given

TG: ill just be astigmatic for a while its cool

CG: PFF… OKAY MAN.

[shuafiles]

lie to girls [l.jn] preview

SUMMARY | it was hard watching jeno struggle with his relationship, but it was even harder when he ran to you for comfort every time. especially when you, his long-time best friend, have been in love with him for the longest time. but when jeno starts lying about where he’s going and who he’s with, you realize the biggest lie might be the one you’re telling yourself—that he’ll ever choose you. or girls will cry, and girls will lie, and girls will lose their goddamn minds for you.

PAIRING | nonidol!jeno x afab!reader

CONTENT | university au, angst, best friends to ?, aespa members included, cheating, swearing, drinking, smut (not everything is included in the teaser yet but just so you know whats in store)

WORDS | 855 (just this teaser)

A/N | sneak peek of what im working on! im planning on making this a looong one but i was too excited so i decided to share without spoiling too much. let me know if you like it! total wc is still unknown and the release date will hopefully be before november ends. also its my birthday today so heres my gift to you :D

“hey.” jeno greeted you, standing at your front door, which only meant one thing. they fought again.

you pushed the door wider, letting him inside. he looked like a mess, his shoulders slumped, dark bags around his eyes, hair disheveled. even from afar, you could tell he was going through something. his phone was in his hand, checking for notifications, but he let out a huge sigh when the home screen was empty.

“do i even want to know?” you prodded, eyes watching him as he plopped down on the couch. his head tilting back on the headrest, head filled with thoughts.

“you know how she is.” jeno mumbled, rubbing his face with his hands. “said she needed some space.”

unfortunately, i do know how she is. jeno’s girlfriend, karina. they’ve been together since first year of college when jeno met her at some random party. they were the kind of couple on campus that, at first glance, seemed perfect, but you knew all too well what kind of chaos haunted them in private. you were too familiar with how she behaved with jeno; most of the time, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

jeno didn’t even have to say anything when you saw him at your front door. you have grown accustomed to this pattern: the same heartache, apologies, and cycle of hope and disappointment. and every time it occurred, jeno ended up here—at your door, at your couch, sulking.

you wanted nothing more than to scold jeno for letting himself get run over by her, but you kept your lips sealed. deciding that giving him comfort and support was probably what he needed right now.

“again, huh?” you sat down on the opposite side of him, tucking your legs beneath you.

“i don’t even know what that means, y/n.” jeno sighed, running his hand through his hair. he lifted his head to face you, gaze soft as he held eye contact with you. “one minute, everything’s perfect, and we’re fine, but suddenly, i’ve apparently done something wrong, and she won't even tell me.” his voice cracked, hopelessness evident in his tone. it pained you to see him like this. how many times is he going to let her do this to him?

“well, did you do something wrong?” you asked, but you knew jeno too well, he wouldn’t do anything to sabotage his relationship. sure, he has made mistakes in the past, but he was a good person, a good friend, and a good lover, you suppose.

jeno stayed silent for a moment, recalling if he had done something to make his girlfriend upset. “i–no, at least i don’t think so.” he shook his head, “i’ve just been busy with classes, but i always make time for her. and everything we’re together, i always try to make it special. you know?”

you nodded along to his words, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. you have heard this story countless times, so you could probably recite it to him. it wasn’t unusual for karina to act like this; she’d get upset over something vague, and then jeno would beat himself up for it, but he’d still bend over backward to get her back.

“maybe she’s just going through something?” you said, trying to think of what to say to ease his mind.

you and karina were acquaintances at best. it’s not like you didn’t try to be her friend, but something about her attitude just seems so off-putting to you. you weren’t entirely sure if karina was fond of you either. of course, you never told jeno any of these. you knew he wouldn’t listen, not when it comes to her. he loves her. he’d return to her every time, like a moth to a flame. and you’d be there, picking up the pieces when he got burned.

“i wish she’d just tell me what’s on her mind instead of leaving me wondering what i did wrong.” his face twisted into frustration with a mix of confusion.

“jen, you know i can’t help you if you don’t tell her what you’re feeling.” this time, you couldn’t hold back. “you’re supposed to tell her these, not me.”

jeno flinched at your words, somehow unsatisfied with your advice. “yeah… you’re right.”

you watched his expression, his eyebrows furrowed while he was deep in thought. “i’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted to hear.” you hesitated, knowing you were treading dangerous waters. “i just think… you deserve someone who actually appreciates you.”

jeno stayed silent, processing your words as if he hadn’t told himself that a million times. but for some stupid reason, he couldn’t keep it in his head. he looked down at his phone, tapping the screen once more, but to his disappointment, there was still nothing. “i know you’re just looking out for me, y/n. but… i just can’t give up on her. not yet.”

and just like that, you could feel him slipping away, back into her orbit, leaving you alone with all the things you couldn’t say, wondering when he would run back to you again.

[braxlrose]

things i imagine 2023 bf bill does

cw: oral (f! and m!recieving), fingering, etc

• if you've been together since the 2000s, he's so so so happy that you never judged him for how he looked and that even though his style changed you still stuck with him. he knows that's the bare minimum but he's experienced first hand how some people treat him because of how he looks and he loves that you're not like that

• obviously, yall still go shopping together like in the 2000s and it's tons of fun. he loves it when you two try on studded jackets together and when you pick out cute platform boots for him

• you two once had the greatest birthday sex in the history of birthday sex because you got him the "greatest platforms in the world!!". His words.

• and I mean it ^^, it went on for like 2 hours and by the time you guys were done you were ready to pass out. but he also had some other gifts to open 🤩

• his aftercare was literally amazing in the 2000s, but it's gotten even better with time. if it was super intense sex, he will not let go of you. even if you were subbing, with intense sex both doms and subs need aftercare.

• MATCHING HALLOWEEN COSTUMES 🗣🗣🗣 also you better hype of bill for whatever costume he does. like that year he did Ariel. If you didn't hype him up 😒 what are you even doing?

• going out and buying costumes with him for concerts

• he said in a tiktok live once that he does out to restaurants for every meal. breakfast, lunch and dinner. so you two do that basically everyday and you guys always order too much food and end up having left overs

• ‼️BAKING WITH HIM‼️

• you guys know how he loves his cheesecakes so you two make him all the time. and he teaches you how to bake some of his family recipes. but it always ends up with you guys a total mess because you were fooling around.

• also the mf is still a massive tease 💀 like bruh back off for two goddamn seconds

• like while you're kneeding dough he'd come up behind you and press his crotch into your ass and act like he was just grabbing a measuring cup. and the mf would just be smirking his ass off if your face got red

• tiktok lives all the time and you two bake together on those two. and sometimes tom comes in and helps you guys.

• cockwarming on tiktok lives 😍😍😍 (someone has gotta write that because oh em geeeeee I'm squirming and squeezing my thighs just thinking about it)

• he bites in bed. like when he's fingering you he'll bite your boob or literally any squishy part of you. and will get horny the next day if he sees you have bite marks on your body.

• he loves going to the beach with you. and you guys go with Tom and Heidi all the time too.

• now im very pale you guys. i hate tanning, I never want to be tan. It's just not for me, so if you're like that too bill will literally lather you in sonnencreme and bring an umbrella for you to stay under

• now if you're not like me and you like to tan then bill will buy you tanning oil and that mirror thing (I hope yall know what I'm talking about bc idk what its called)

• he gives you head scratches all the time because he always has long nails and it feels so good

• ON THAT NOTE, bill rarely fingers you because of his nails, but on the days he doesn't have any acrylic nails, he'll finger you like no tomorrow. but other than that he sticks to eating you out

• bakes you a cake all by himself for your birthday 🎂 he makes sure to get whatever flavor you like the best. strawberry, vanilla, chocolate, red velvet, whatever you want he'll do it. he decorates it himself and is very proud

• talks about you all the time in interviews and is smiling his ass off every time

• doing skincare together is a must!! you two have so much skin care stuff it's insane. serums, face masks (peel off, paper, clay, etc), lotions, moisturizers, oils, lip masks. literally everything.

• HE LOVES DOING YOUR MAKEUP and he gets so happy when you let him do it

• date nights with him are so much fun because you get to get all dressed up in a sexy outfit and go out to a fancy restaurant. plus the night usually ends in sex

• he loves it when you play with his rings on his fingers

• living room dance parties and karaoke happens all the time and you always end up on the floor laughing your asses off

• he buys Polaroid cameras and takes pictures of you guys all the time. at the mall shopping, on the beach, making sandcastles, you eating, baking together, him dicking you down with his cum all over your chest (who said that⁉️)

• showering together and doing hair masks

• loves pre and post concert head from you 😉

• binge watching TV shows together is something you two do a bunch. he gets all pouty if he found out you watched an episode without him.

• you guys manicures and pedicures all the time and you're always giggling and laughing with eachother the entire time

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam @5hyslv7

[hyuckilstan]

Make it up to you -P.Sh

Pairing!— Seonghwa x afab!reader

Genre!— Angst, smut, fluff if you squint?

warnings!— cunnilingus, protected sex, a whole lot of apologizing and petnames, make-up sex but its soft, possessiveness more like over protectiveness, kinda toxic ngl.

Summary!— Your boyfriend wants to make sure you know how sorry he feels, and how could you reject him when he was being so genuine.

Wc!— 2.1+k words

a/n!— oka I’m back lol and I thought why not make my comeback with a hwa fic (also there might be some typos idk 💀)

☽·Masterlist·☾

Right now, You’re fucking done with everything.

You’re done with Seonghwa, your boyfriend, you’re done with yourself, heck you feel like you’re done with the relationship.

“I can fucking take care of myself Hwa!” you shout back, feeling frustrated, you know Seonghwa loves you, so much so that he loves to pamper you, sometimes too much that it feels like he thinks of you as a mere child he wants to protect.

Just like tonight, you had peacefully told him that you would be fine if he left you alone at the bar while he goes to chat with his friends, since they were celebrating Hongjoong’s big day as a producer after all, although you’re pretty sure you've ruined the night for him.

Seonghwa just couldn’t resist when he saw some guy hitting on you and even swung his fist at him, resulting in you both standing outside after getting kicked out, arguing.

When you told him once again that he shouldn't have been so protective he blurted out something along the lines that you said that cause you do love the attention, or something like that.

You don’t really remember.

You don’t want to remember.

“We’ve been over this Y/N, I do this because I care for you,” he still refused to admit that what he had said and done were wrong, maybe you were dramatic about him being protective, but what he had said after hurt you more than you wish it did.

“Am I like a goddamn child to you?! I am an independent person Hwa, I can make my own choices and protect myself too, I don’t need to be dependent on someone to do that for me!” You think you’re screaming, you’re not sure, your ears are still ringing because of the loud music, and you feel like your senses are numb and your tears won't stop falling.

Seonghwa hates seeing you like this, more so that he is making you feel like this, but he just wants you to understand that he does it all because he loves you, without a second thought, he says some words he immediately regrets.

“So you call allowing that fucking man to throw himself at you independent? Maybe you are a fucking child Y/N.”

You think you can hear your heart shatter into a million pieces, you don’t respond, mainly cause you are physically unable to, you just want to scream and cry, and you do.

“Stop. I- I’m heading home, and don’t you dare follow me,” you sob and Seonghwa stands stunned when he realizes what he has said and done.

You can hear him calling your name but you choose not to, still sobbing and tears flowing like a river, you open the door to Wooyoung’s car, who had told you before you and Seonghwa left that he could drive you home, almost as if he knew that you would want some distance from your boyfriend.

Wooyoung doesn’t question you, instead he drives to your home, he does tell you that it will be okay every now and then. You wonder if your relationship with Seonghwa is in a critical position, you wonder if you would ever make up.

You do know the amswer to whose questions when you do reach your home and Wooyoung gives you a tight hug, “Don’t worry Y/N, you’ll work things out, Seonghwa loves you nd you love him, arguments happen once in a while, I just know that you guys are made for each other,” he says and you nod, wiping your tears, bidding him goodbye as well as thanking him.

Once you enter your home, you feel like the place is colder, is it because of the feeling of dread you have for when Seonghwa will return home or just because of the weather? Either way, you decide to wash up and immediately head to bed.

--------------༊·˚

Its currently a little past 1 in the morning and it seems like you have cried yourself to sleep, but your ringtone wakes you up, you decide to bot pick up seeing that it was Hwa, but when he keeps on calling you finally pick up.

You don’t say anything, but you can clearly hear Seonghwa sniffing on the other side of the phone, “Y/N... Please, let me in, I’m so sorry, please, ” his pleads are pathetic and Seonghwa knows it.

You hang up without saying a word but you do get up to open the door, after mentally preparing yourself to face him of course

When you open the door, you see Seonghwa, possibly in the most hopeful yet miserable state you’ve seen. He looks stoked to see you, he starts crying, and you are about to start crying too.

He lets himself in, locking the door behind him, “Hwa-” before you can say more, Seonghwa’s soft lips are pressed against yours harshly, you both need this.

He effortlessly hoists you up so that your legs are wrapped around his hips, he doesn’t stop kissing you, instead he makes the kiss deeper, more intimate but you don’t complain.

He somehow managed to stumble into the bedroom and he gently lays you down on the bed, he pulls himself away and you almost whimper, “I’m sorry baby, are you okay with this?” he asks, his voice is full of hurt and regret, you can feel it, because that is also the same case for you when you speak out.

You cannot exaggerate how good he looks right now, his soft skin illuminated by the moonlight and his eyes that are glistening as they look up at yours.

“Hwa don’t stop, please,” you plead and he nods diving back in the kiss, his hands are all over your body now, your body is burning up, he feels so fucking good against you.

His lips leave yours but they start trailing down your neck, sucking and nibbling it, “Is this okay?” he asks for your assurance when his fingers are pulling at the waistband of your shorts, you nod, tugging at the hem of his shirt, Seonghwa nods as well, taking off his shirt in one swift movement and now you’re staring at him, observing his every next movements.

He slowly pulls your shorts down along with your underwear, your breath hitches when you feel his hot breath against your now wet core, “You don’t have to...” you say quietly but Seonghwa shakes his head in disagreement

“No baby, let me make it up to you, please?” he asks innocently, and who were you to say no to him, when you give him the green light he wastes no time in taking you in his mouth

He wets your already wet folds and starts flicking his tongue at your clit, “Fuck!” you groan, Seonghwa was always skilled with his tongue and that makes you feel intoxicated, he always looks so pretty between your legs.

Your fingers rake his hair, tugging his hair slightly to pull him closer, Seonghwa doesn’t complain, rather he loves it when yiu chase for your pleasure.

Your moans bounce off the walls of the bedroom as your boyfriend alternates between giving kitten licks to your cunt and flicking your clit with his tongue, Seonghwa softly moans when you tug his hair harsher, he was growing rock hard at this point.

He sucks at your clit making you gasp, “I’m so sorry baby, I love you I love you I love you,” he says between his sucks and licks, he continues repeating the words “I love you” and “I’m sorry” every now and then, and before you know it, tears are staring to fall again, this time not only because of hurt, but also because of pleasure.

He fucks his tongue into your wet hole while his nose brushes against your clit and Seonghwa feels contented when he hears your moans getting louder, but he wants to hear more from you.

So he wets his fingers in his mouth, fucking two digits into you, you moan out loudly when he starts curling them, the pleasure was starting to get really intense.

“That’s it baby, take it all for me, just want you to feel good,” he says and resumes on fucking you with his fingers and sucking your clit, “Hwa, I think- I’m going to cum soon-” you inform him and he hums, fucking his fingers into you even faster.

Curses leave your mouth as you buck your hips while the pleasure Seonghwa was delivering to you remained constant; you feel your climax arriving dangerously close and before you could warn him, you had came all over your boyfriend’s face.

You gasp at the sight of seonghwa’s face smeared with arousal, feeling more aroused when he licks it all up, “Fuck baby that was so hot,” he chuckles, he gets up to take off his clothes that were still on and crawling back up to the bed, staring right at you.

He gently cups your face, it feels nice and warm, “I feel so fucking stupid baby, will you forgive me?” he asks and you stare at him for a little longer before you hum, he’s still hesitant so you decide to speak up, “Hwa, I just want you to fuck the pain away,” you tell him and it causes his cock to twitch.

“Shit baby, you have no idea what you do to me,” he growls and Seonghwa, being the best boyfriend he (almost) always is obliges, he quickly grabs a condom from your nightstand and rolling it down along his erect length, he then aligns his dick to your hole after wetting it with your arousal.

He easily slides himself in, and you both moan in unison, you frantically reach out your arms to pull him closer, noticing this, Seonghwa starts kissing you again, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer.

He starts to slowly rock his hips towards yours, fucking in and out of you deliciously, “Yes, right there Hwa,” you moan when his length hits just the right spot, Seonghwa hums and continuously abuses that spot.

He swallows your moans as your tongues danced together, his hands are back to cupping your face and right now, you feel so loved, Seonghwa was making love to you.

“You feel so tight,” he groans, fucking even deeper into you, his lips are now against your neck again, this time peppering it softly, while you moan out without a single care, all your frustration leaving as pleasure arrives.

Your second climax is arriving and you need more, “Hwa, please- harder,” you ask, Seonghwa responds obediently to your request, he was now slamming his length into you at a fast pace, to which he loudly curses.

You reach your hands down to your clit, gently rubbing then, Seonghwa smirks amused, “That’s it baby, rub that clit while I fuck you so good,” he pants and you nod frantically.

When Seonghwa notices that your moans are getting more choked and louder he speaks up again, “You’re gonna cum for me again my love?” You nod and his groans follows your response, “Me too love- fuck- let’s cum together.”

You cannot form words, or at least coherent ones, you just take the pleasure you’re receiving, you can also tell that Seonghwa is close to the edge when you feel him twitch inside of you.

He places his hands at your hips tightly and pulls your hips and fucking into you, your choked out moans, the sound of skin on skin and his pants are the only thing you can now hear.

“Shit I’m cumming” he says and you do too as he continues to fuck into you while he empties his load in the rubber, once you both reach your climax, he rests his forehead against yours, you’re both breathing heavily at this point.

He lays himself next to you, softly kissing you, he brushes a portion of your hair behind your ear and sighs, “Y/N, I’m so sorry, I promise to never do or say those things again,” he apologizes again for you don’t even remember how many times but could feel how genuine Seonghwa was being.

You smile softly at him, which further reassured him that you have indeed forgiven him, “It’s okay Hwa,” you snuggle onto him, “Arguments can break out often, we can only do so much as grow from them,” you tell him.

Seonghwa cannot describe how happy he feels as well as how proud, he does realize now that you are a grown up who is capable of handling themselves and that he had been pampering and babying you too much.

“I love you so much,” he says pulling you in tighter against his chest, “I love you too,” you reply with a faint smile.

Wooyoung was right, you would’ve come up with a solution one way or the other, as weird as this may be, you managed to work things out.

You were made for each other.

©hyuckilstan. All Rights Reserved.

Taglist!— @yeo-hehet, @hwanchaesong, @enivivs, @alphadisaster, @zen626, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @amangooo, @riboism (feel free to inform me if I had forgotten to add you or you wanted to be added in the taglist!)

[oliversrarebooks]

roger, whats it like being fitz's thrall? (aka how does it feel to be living my dream... im not jealous... totally not living vicariously through you...)

Masterlist

January 1922

TW: mind control, conditioning, blood drinking mentions of past abuse, fear of death

"You have to get up, sir." 

Roger gently shook the lump of tangled blankets and sheets that most likely contained a vampire at its core. The only real indication that his master was within was the soft groan from inside, a mumble that sounded a lot like "leave me alone."

"I can't leave you alone, sir. You have a show at 7, remember? If you don't rise and shine soon, you won't have enough time to do your hair and makeup and make it to the theater."

"Uggggggh. Why'd I schedule a show so goddamned early? What is wrong with me?" The pile of blankets huddled in on itself more tightly.

"...I suspect there may be several things, sir," said Roger, unable to resist the obvious opening and knowing that a bit of banter might put his master in a better mood. "Regardless, you did schedule the show, and you do need to leave the house for it."

"Horrible. Torturous. Excruciating." The bedclothes rustled, and Fitz poked his head out just enough to take a look. "It's so early that the sun is leaking around the curtains! The sun could kill me, Roger, you can't expect me to get up in those conditions. I could die."

"I believe that's what the curtains are for, sir. To prevent you from dying when you're unjustly forced to wake up during the day." Roger sat down on the side of the bed. He'd done this often enough to know when he was in for the long haul, and he was quite capable of patience -- a good quality to have when serving Fitz. "You were looking forward to this show, weren't you? It's a large venue, and you have your new rotating box trick."

"Mmm."

"I'm sure it will go over splendidly, sir, and you'll be afforded all the praise and applause you deserve," he said. Cheap flattery rarely failed to soften his master's mood. "Aren't you looking forward to seeing the looks of delight on your audience's faces when you perform your new trick? And besides that, aren't you looking forward to being paid?"

Fitz seemed to be lowering both his blankets and his guard. "I suppose so..."

"Excellent. Then forgive me for this, sir." Roger grabbed the covers and pulled them away, as his master produced a sound not unlike a dying cat.

With lightning fast reflexes, the blankets were wrenched from Roger's grasp, and Fitz was clutching them to himself and huddling in the middle of the bed. "How could you? How could my own thrall do such a thing? Heartless, you're simply heartless." He curled up under the blankets and stubbornly closed his eyes as if to go back to sleep.

"Of the two of us, sir, it's technically you who is heartless." Roger sighed. It was always most difficult to wake Fitz in the dead of winter. The long nights enticed his master to stay out too late sampling the city's nightlife, and the cold made him especially reluctant to leave his chambers, which, thanks to the radiators, were as hot as a furnace.

He reached down to the blankets, intending to tug on them again. This time, despite Fitz pretending to sleep, he was faster than Roger, and grasped his wrist.

Roger felt a delicious, drowsy warmth coming from his master's touch, filling his mind with cotton candy haze. It was blissfully dreamy and intoxicating, and, most dangerously, it was sleep-inducing, enticing him to shut his weary eyes and rest.

"Go back to sleep, Roger," Fitz lulled. "Curl up here. Keep me warm..."

Roger was swaying on the spot, eyelids drooping, rapidly losing himself to enchanted slumber -- but he'd been caught by this trap on plenty of occasions, and each time it ended with Fitz regretful that he'd overslept and missed his obligations. It was that memory that kept Roger just awake enough to wrench his arm away and mostly free himself from his master's dangerous temptation. Fitz was making sad little grabbing motions as Roger moved out of range of his hands.

"I'm afraid that if you wish to use your powers on me, you'll have to leave your bed to do so, sir," said Roger, standing several feet away. "The sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can get to the pleasant business of washing up." They both knew that it was a bluff. Roger had been under Fitz's thrall for many years now, and his master didn't need hypnotic touch to compel him, body and soul. But it was a bluff that usually worked.

"Fine, fine, you win." With one final dramatic groan, Fitz threw off the covers and sat up. "I'll take my shower, then. But I expect you to attend to me when I'm finished."

"Of course, sir." Roger watched as his master stumbled into the bathroom, and in a moment he could hear the sound of running water and upbeat humming. Fitz loved long, warm showers as much as he loved rolling around lazily in bed. He'd spend at least a half-hour relaxing in the steamy waters and performing his elaborate and ever-changing skin care routine, one which involved enough distinct products as to cover most of the vanity table.

This gave Roger plenty of time to make the perpetually disheveled bed, the foot-high pile of blankets, and the mountain of pillows in every shape and size. He made quick work of it, picked up the dirty clothes that had been tossed on the floor yesterday morning. 

Housekeeping was Roger's primary responsibility apart from providing blood and humoring Fitz's varied whims. With only the two of them in a reasonably sized flat, it wasn't especially difficult or time-consuming compared to when he'd lived on his own, before he'd been snatched off the street by a vampire. He'd even come to enjoy the simple chores. He wasn't sure how much of that was due to his own feelings or to Fitz's coercion -- his master grasping his shoulders and softening Roger's mind, whispering to him how much he loved to serve.

Really, it hardly mattered any more.

When he'd finished tidying up, Roger got down to the business of setting out his master's clothes. Serving Fitz was really about anticipating his moods more than anything else. With a large venue, he'd want something particularly flashy -- something on the warmer side for a chill day -- deep blue, perhaps?

The door to the bathroom cracked open, Roger's signal to enter.

The steam was blinding, mixed with the almost overwhelming scent of flowers, as Roger entered. Fitz was fussing with his hair, as usual, despite not being able to see it in the mirror. "You simply must help me out with this," he said.

"Of course, sir," said Roger, taking the comb from him. This was a ritual they performed nearly every night Fitz went out. Even as the years went by and Fitz grew from a young vampire to a seasoned one, he still seemed so irritated at not being able to see himself in the mirror, sometimes requiring excessive reassurance from Roger that he was still handsome.

Tonight, though, his master seemed deep in his own head as Roger ran the comb through his hair, taking some pomade in hand to smooth it back. He pulled the longer hair into a neat tail, the sort of style usually reserved for unsavory sorts, but then, Fitz didn't mind presenting himself as a bit unsavory. Roger's tense shoulders relaxed as faint hypnotic power flowed from his master's proximity, fogging his mind at the same time it increased his desire to help fix Fitz's brooding.

"Is everything all right, sir?"

Fitz seemed startled back into the waking world by the question. "Of course," he said with his fake smile plastered firmly to his face. "Just running through the show in my head. If I'm going to be dragged out of my bed and into the cold this early, it had better be worth it."

"I'm sure it will be, sir. You're looking quite handsome this evening."

"Obviously," he said, lacking the usual cheer that punctuated their banter.

With Fitz's hair squared away, the two then left the bathroom for Roger to assist dressing him. "While the rest of this outfit is acceptable, this bowtie is just not..." Fitz seemed to be fishing around, thinking of what could be wrong with the bowtie, clearly eager to find some minor fault to distract himself from his own worries. "It's blue, isn't it? You can't have blue on a night that's already cold and gloomy, that won't do. It must be red. The color of excitement and passion!"

"I don't know what I was thinking, sir," Roger deadpanned, picking up the blue bowtie that Fitz had tossed aside and fetching one of his half-a-dozen red ones.

Fitz allowed Roger to fit him with the new selection. "That's why you should leave the thinking to me."

"I'm not so sure about that, sir."

That got a genuine smile from his master. "Come now, when has that ever not worked out?" he said. "With this outfit and your expert attention to my hair, I'm sure tonight's show will be an absolute triumph."

"There's not a single doubt in my mind, sir."

As Roger adjusted his master's cummerbund, Fitz leaned in a bit more, in an unsubtle fashion. The undercurrent of tension Roger had felt all night bloomed into something more recognizable: hunger. His master desired his blood, and, as always, Roger felt himself falling into a pleasurable daze, one where all thoughts fled from his mind apart from offering himself to his master.

"I think I'll need to feed from you when I return. You don't mind, do you?" Fitz whispered in his ear.

"No, master," said Roger, shivering involuntarily. "It's my pleasure to serve you."

"And it's my pleasure to feed," he said, grinning with his fangs bared. "Yes, I think that'll be just the thing to lift my spirits. Something to look forward to after the show."

"Yes, sir. I'll also look forward it." He meant that -- he had long since given up being troubled by his desire for vampiric feedings. He'd felt that desire even for his previous master's painful, harsh feedings, and it was far easier to accept Fitz's gentle trance of bliss.

A few minutes later and Roger had wrangled a semi-unwilling vampire into two layers of winter coat and sent him on his way. Sometimes Roger went along with Fitz to the theater, to help with makeup or hair or just for support purposes, but just as often he was left behind to his own devices. 

He didn't mind either way. It was nice to have a few hours to himself. He often spent the bulk of the time painting, something he'd never gotten to do much of even before he was taken by vampires. He wanted to eat breakfast first, though, especially given that his master might be feeding later.

Roger did hope he was. Sometimes he instead chose to feed on his volunteer from the audience, and that was always a bit of a disappointment, denying Roger the opportunity to fulfill his primary purpose in life. But Fitz seemed interested in feeding at home, and if he was going to do that, it would behoove Roger to be well-fed.

Soon enough, a generous portion of ham and eggs was sizzling on the stove. Fitz had made a promise early on that he'd always keep Roger fed, and although he forgot and broke promises all the time, he hadn't broken that one. Unlike his previous master, he never punished Roger with starvation -- a particularly spiteful punishment, since it also seemed to lower the quality of Roger's blood. His previous master did seem to enjoy punishment more than feedings.

When Roger's former master had been destroyed in a duel, Roger had assumed he was going from bad to worse. That feeling had grown stronger when he'd been dragged to a secondhand thrall appraiser and his worth was assessed at far lower than it had been when he'd first been bought. At the time, Roger had been little better than a beaten dog, cringing at every sound, barely daring to speak or think. He'd lost hope for anything better.

And, well, Fitz was far from the savior he'd often imagined during those days. He was still a vampiric master, a dramatic one whose moods changed like the wind. He could still effortlessly control Roger's mind, and he made Roger do all the chores in the house. Roger still wasn't free.

But rather than beatings and torture, Fitz's "punishments" generally amounted to snippy words and extra chores. There was always food, and he was allowed to paint and read and relax. His master might have a terrible habit of tossing out every piece of clothing in his closet when choosing what to wear and then telling Roger to clean it all up, but compared to what life had been like...

He hoped that Fitz came home safe. He'd strongly prefer to not change hands again, even if it meant dragging a protesting vampire out of bed each night for the rest of his life.

Roger had busied himself painting a bird from an illustration in a nature book when he heard the front door creak. "It's goddamn cold out there! Windy, too."

"Welcome home, sir," said Roger, helping his master out of his frigid coats. He was pleased to see Fitz in a better mood than when he'd left. "I take it your show went well?"

"Of course! Didn't you say there wasn't a single doubt in your mind?" he said with a grin as he kicked off his shoes, leaving Roger to line them up neatly in the shoe rack. "The crowd loved it! The spinning box trick is a real winner -- I just need to think of some ways to jazz it up further -- perhaps doing up the box in spangles to really dazzle them..." 

He shook himself out of his train of thought, seeming to remember Roger was there. "All of that applause did have me work up an appetite, though," he said, stepping close and brushing his hand against Roger's. Roger could feel the influence flowing through him, stoking his need for the feeding. "Why don't you go start the fire? That and your blood will provide me with some warmth tonight, I think."

So he was going to feed. Roger tried to keep his face neutral to preserve a scrap of dignity. "Very good, sir."

Roger allowed himself to hum a bit of a jaunty tune as he stacked wood in the fireplace and lit the kindling, using the bellows to raise the fire higher. He could hear his master making a commotion in the bathroom, likely getting out of his fine clothes and washing off the stage makeup. By the time Fitz arrived in the parlor, the fire was crackling merrily.

"Ahhhhh," said Fitz, sprawling out onto the old leather couch and beckoning Roger close. "This is the life, isn't it, Roger?"

"It certainly is, sir."

"Well, I suppose I'm not technically alive. The point still stands."

His master put his hand to Roger's cheek, and Roger sank into the mind-numbing bliss that came from his power, the familiar sense of captivation and contentment. As always, he could feel his master's desire to feed, and as he dropped deeper into a trance, his hands came up to unbutton his shirt and pull his collar away.

"You really are an excellent thrall," said Fitz, and Roger soaked in both the praise and the sense of security that came from pleasing his master. "Now just relax and let me have what I need."

Sharp fangs punctured the old scars that would never heal, and Roger's pliable mind slipped further as his master began to drink. There was nothing but bliss and contentment and hunger and need --

-- and, as always when his master was anxious, the sound of ticking clocks and the undercurrent of a lonely void.

Perhaps the good reception to his show hadn't brightened his mood as much as Roger had thought.

Fitz drank hungrily as if to fill that void with his thrall's blood, and Roger could feel his senses buckling, his vision tunneling and his eyelids growing heavy. His master was overdrinking again. "Sir," Roger managed to say as he fought to stay awake. "Sir -- sir, you're --"

"Oh!" His master mercifully stopped. "Damn it, I'm sorry, Roger. I don't mean to do that, you know I don't."

"I know you don't," Roger parroted in a dazed voice, slumping against his master's shoulder, allowing his eyes to close now that the danger had passed.

Someday, his master was probably going to kill him. He'd drink too much blood, and Roger would fail to stop him in time, collapsing into his master's arms and closing his eyes for the last time.

But tonight was not that night, and Roger was glad of it.

Masterlist

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot @cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

[scribespirare]

Do you think you could write an a/b/o for omega Miles babysitting Mayday at HQ, and tsundere alpha Miguel doesn't know how to cope? The way you write these two is just *chef's kiss*

Nonnie i could kiss you for this request i love it so so much. i kinda...went a little nuts with it lmao. first its sappy then it gets sad and it ends very horny. its 2k long ajdfkdj;a. i think im gonna write the sex scene later and post it as a full fic.

There are very few things that can stop Miguel O'Hara in his tracks these days. He's been there, seen it all, got the goddamned spider suit to prove it. Surprising him is nigh impossible and he likes it that way.

For some reason, Miles Morales seems to be at the top of the list of things that can get to him though.

Miles, with his big dark eyes and his sneer and his inability to listen to common sense or reason. The Omega superhero who defies every stereotype about his gender. Who smells absolutely amazing and is stunning in action, lithe body built perfectly for his acrobatics.  

Miles, who is currently sitting in HQ's control room with Mayday in his lap, his face bright and smiling as she babbles at him. He's got her little hands in each of his own, lifting them one after the other as she stamps her feet.

"I know!" he says in response to her babbling, attention completely on the little girl. "It's crazy, right? Tell me more about it."

Mayday obliges, her babbling raising in both pitch and tempo like she really is going on a diatribe of some kind. She seems to be enjoying having a captive audience and isn't going to let it go to waste.

It's...well, Miguel really and truly has been stopped in his tracks. It's the first Omegean thing he's ever seen from Miles. Normally he's so contrarian and difficult, not to mention eager to jump into danger and equally as capable of actually handling it. You'd think he was an Alpha the way he behaves, small, lithe form be damned.

Seeing him like this, soft and sweet and smiling, his scent bright and nearly floral, is...doing things to Miguel. Bringing up feelings and urges that he's known were there, but which he'd been successfully keeping under lock and key.

Miles suddenly seems to become aware of Miguel's presence, and he looks up. His smile fades a little but it's a smile all the same, and Miguel's pretty sure Miles hasn't smiled at him since...well, everything. It looks good on him.

"Hey, wasn't sure when you were going to be back. Peter asked me to babysit for him though and I figured hanging out here would be better than taking her home with me. Not sure how I would explain that one to my folks."

The idea of someone mistakenly thinking Mayday is Miles’, that the Omega has a child, has been mated and more, makes Miguel’s nostrils flare. He clamps down ruthlessly on the reaction, knowing that if he doesn’t his interest will undoubtedly be noticeable in his scent.

“Just keep it down,” are the words that come off of Miguel’s tongue. They’re better than Do you want a child? or You’d make a good mother or, even worse, I could give you one of your own, if you want. 

Miles’ smile turns into a frown and then an unhappy twist. He clicks his tongue, says, “Whatever, man,” and goes back to Mayday. He’s speaking quietly to her now but Miguel can pick up his own name and big meany and assh- wait I can’t say that to you.

Miguel just heads for his central computers, waking them up and logging into the system to check on how everything is running today. But he can’t help the way he watches Miles’ and Mayday’s reflections on the screen. He can’t pick up many details like this but he can still smell them. Happy, pleased Omega, and the young, innocent scent of a child unpresented. Of babe and mother.

Christ, Miguel is going to hell for this.

It’s been about an hour of Miguel pretending to work but actually getting very little done, when Miles speaks up. “Hey, Miguel, you know stuff about kids, right?”

Miguel’s shoulders hunch and he breathes out slowly. Of course he does. He turns, glaring back at Miles. Mayday has been dragging him around the room with her crawling and right now they’re both hanging upside down from the ceiling, Miles sitting cross legged and her on his shoulders.

“Yes,” Miguel says sharply.

Miles’ mouth twists, but for once it doesn’t seem like it’s directed at Miguel. “Sorry, that was kinda insensitive, huh? I was just curious, ya know, about parenthood and all.”

Another bolt of longing shoots through Miguel. It’s part arousal, part wistfulness for his lost family.

You could start again, part of him says. Children. A mate. It’s not too late for you. He’s right there.

“What do you want to know about it?”

Miles shrugs, which causes Mayday to wobble dangerously and laugh delightedly about it. “Just, is it good? Like, hanging out with Mayday is great, but I can’t imagine having one of my own.”

You don’t have to imagine, Miguel thinks, but says, “It’s different, when they’re yours.”

“How so?”

Miguel sighs and holds out his arms to Mayday. Even though she’s halfway across the room she immediately lets out an excited shriek and climbs her way down a protesting Miles’ body. It takes only a minute before she’s dropping into Miguel’s arms and then crawling all over him.

“Kids are work and energy,” Miguel explains. “When they’re someone else’s, you’re happy to give them back after a certain point. When they’re yours, even when you’re annoyed or upset with them, you still know it’s all worth it. You can’t imagine a life without them.”

“Oh,” says Miles. He watches quietly for a moment as Mayday continues her excited quest to make Miguel look as ridiculous as possible, before he too crawls across the ceiling and drops down. Sadly it’s not into Miguel’s arms like Mayday had.

Gingerly, Miles’ takes the little girl back, and she goes willingly enough. “Sorry if that was like, rude or anything. And don’t kill me for saying this but you sound like you make a really good Alpha, mate wise.”

Miles is halfway across the room again before Miguel can reply, like he really is expecting retaliation. Miguel just shakes his head and pretends to go back to his work.

I am a good Alpha he thinks. I could show you. We could have a whole litter of kids. You’d love it. And then inevitably Miguel’s thoughts turn lascivious. He ends up losing himself to a daydream about exactly how he wants to breed Miles (facing each other, his fangs buried in Miles’ throat, Miles’ flexible, coltish legs wrapped around his hips, heels digging in to coax Miguel into fucking him harder) while watching the Omega’s reflection.

He doesn’t come up for air until Peter makes his appearance. The man gives Miguel a quizzical look but is distracted quickly enough by his daughter. He sticks around long enough that Miguel does actually get some work done, and when his voice finally fades away Miguel figures he’s alone.

That is, until Miles clears his throat directly behind him.

Miguel doesn’t jump, but it’s a near thing. He turns and looks down at the Omega in annoyance, raising one eyebrow in a silent question.

Miles looks shifty, transferring his weight from one foot to the other like he’s thinking about running, but he’s got that mulish jut to his chin and a hard glint in his eyes that Miguel recognizes at the stubborn streak that’s lead them into more fights than he’d like to admit.

Is regularly wanting to throttle a teenage Omega better or worse than wanting to fuck him?

“Spit it out, kid,” Miguel eventually snaps.

Miles juts his chin out even further. “I’m not stupid,” he says, which, well he’s just inviting a scathing retort with that. Miguel’s expression must convey this because Miles rallies and goes on quickly, not giving the Alpha a chance to cut in. “I’m not! I saw how you were looking at me today, with Mayday. And then your scent…you were looking at me through the reflection on the computer screen.”

Miguel stiffens all over because fuck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grinds out.

“The hell you don’t! Even Peter smelled it. You’re into me, you smell like you want to jump me.”

There’s one of two ways Miguel can play this; deny it till his dying breath, or agree and pretend it doesn’t matter. His panicked brain picks the latter, because Miles isn’t stupid, and he’s tenacious as hell. He’ll hound Miguel until Miguel gives him an answer the Omega is satisfied with.

“So?” Miguel says.

That makes Miles pause, his eyes flicking back and forth between Miguel’s. He clearly isn’t seeing what he wants to though, brow knitting in confusion. “What do you mean ‘so’? So, you’re horny as hell for me.”

“You’re an Omega and I’m an Alpha,” Miguel explains slowly, like he’s speaking to a child. “It’s biology.” Which of course just ruffles Miles’ feathers and makes him puff up even more.

“That’s bullshit. You’ve never smelled like that before around me,” Miles insists.

Miguel is butting up against almost the exact same decision from before. Does he own up, or does he keep denying it means anything?

With a faint snarl of annoyance at having been put in this situation to begin with, Miguel says, “Most Alphas seeing an unbonded Omega with a young child are going to be affected.” The word horny will absolutely not be crossing his lips. “It sparks an instinct in us.”

Miles narrows his eyes, a faint smirk curling at his mouth. He thinks he’s won. “A breeding instinct,” he accuses.

Miguel turns his gaze skyward, giving a quick prayer to whichever poor saint is watching over him today to give him patience. “Yes, Miles. A breeding instinct.”

“I knew it!”

“Congratulations,” Miguel says dryly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now will you go away so I can do some work in peace?”

And there’s the chin jut again. Stubborn ass Omega. “I’m not done with you yet.”

The corner of Miguel’s lip twitches of up into an involuntarily snarl. “Well I’m done with you, malcriado. Vete.”

“No. I want to know if this was a one off,” Miles demands. “’Cause like, sure seeing an Omega with a kid might work for you, but my theory is that you’re already into me and it just pushed you over the edge. You’re too uptight to let your scent go wild like that unless you’re like, close to losing it.”

How the hell is this kid so damn perceptive? Clearly Miguel’s going to need to work on his defenses if Miles is reading him like a damn book. He sighs and rubs at the bridge of his nose with two fingers, trying to figure out how to get out of this.

Well, he’s dug this fucking grave. Time to lie in it.

“Fine, Miles,” he says wearily, dropping his hand and making direct eye contact with the Omega. “Yes, I have more than a passing interest in you as a mate. Seeing you with Mayday made me think about having children with you myself. Are we done with this line of questioning now? Are you finally satisfied?”

Miles smiles slowly, then wrinkles his nose. “Having children with me, huh? That’s an incredibly boring way to talk about breeding. Why so family friendly? Just say you wanna fuck me. And no, by the way, I’m not satisfied yet. You gotta make good on all that before I let it drop.”

Silence reigns as Miguel’s brain just churns through the words, understanding them individually but failing to grasp the big picture.

“Not, like, immediately though!” Miles rushes to add, oblivious to Miguel’s plight. “I’m not ready for kids yet, not to mention my parents would kill me. But we could, you know, practice?” He looks stupidly hopeful, staring up at Miguel with that little smile on his lips, rocking forward on the balls of his feet.

“You…want me to breed you,” Miguel says slowly.

Miles snorts and rolls his eyes. “Well, practice breeding me. But yeah, that’s what I just said didn’t I? Get with it, old man, we’re wasting daylight here.”

Miguel’s never been one to follow orders. But how’s an Alpha supposed to resist?

[funnyscienceman]

Ok but like WHYY did ubisoft have to insist with the one game a year thing. Why couldnt they let syndicate cook in the oven more. Why do they have THREE queer men in the same game and not do ANYTHING with them!!!

Like yes, yes, i get it, i get wanting to for once make a story in a fun setting where you dont have to think about real life prejudice and hardships and bigotry and just have characters be silly, i love that too. I do! And id be all for that if doing it just didnt waste a potentially banger study of the characters and the setting ;-;

Like god i go back and forth on this constantly. I already love syndicate as it is, i think it's fun and neat and the happy gaming vibes about it is core to its identity, it's just that simultaneous to that, three queer men in the same game!!!

like GOD im still miffed that there are only, like, two or three fics about this, and so far i havent found any discussion or anything of it, but oh my god how different all three of them are from each other. You could do so much just with having any of them in the same room — and they are often enough in the same room (jacob and either ned or roth at a time), but nothing's really done there!

we have roth who sees fcking nothing wrong with getting kids hurt, because he doesnt actually care about anyone or anything, he's just some fucking joker wannabe that yeah, sure, probably has some anger and resentment at society because he's a gay man in his 40s or 50s by now, but jesus fucking christ retaliation against homophobia does not equal rampant needless unproductive violence roth!!!

then we have ned, who — i mean he doesnt ever give his opinion on whether kids deserve any respect or anything but considering in every other department he's pretty much just Some Guy, it'd be fair to assume he also has the extremely average stance of 'dont fcking kill kids and dont blow up buildings for no good reason??' in the grand scheme of the templar-assassin stuff he has just about as much relevance as roth: roth was just the boss of the blighters, ned just finances the fryes by virtue of them working for him. He probably doesnt even know about it, and tbh i dont even know if he'd care??? But like i imagine roth doesnt care in the way of 'as long as you dont get in my way, it's all set dressing,' ned i imagine would be smth like 'are yall fckin serious? are you kidding me rn? i have to skirt around transphobes on a daily basis, now youre telling me there's a secret society on top of that with even worse ideas?? What the fuck???'

like uh, not caring about it as in 'I cant deal with this rn i need a nap'

HE'S JUST AN EXTREMELY REGULAR PERSON (besides the crime lord stuff) IS WHAT IM GETTING AT.

then there's jacob, who's the youngest out of these guys btw, fckin 21 good god he should be at the club not trying to disassemble systemic oppression— ANYWAY

(ned is 27-28 over the course of the game, btw; we dont actually have a solid timeline for anything, just the year, so tbh jacob could've also been 20 and not 21 yet during the game. both he and ned have late birthdays, just a month apart)

so, yknow, being extremely early 20-somethings, both frye twins just take a train to london completely on impulse and dive headfirst into undoing the templars that've had an iron grip over the city for basically as long as they've been alive, yknow, as you do; and throughout the game jacob has to deal with goddamn daddy issues and fighting with his sister and insecurity and trying to be an assassin — and that's a lot for a guy to handle!! Especially one who's still just a couple years out of being a teenager! That's a fucking lot and if the devs are right, then he hasnt even realized that he's bi yet! Not until roth fucking kisses him while jacob's got a knife in his throat for the aforementioned indiscriminate, unproductive violence!

i mean, granted, yeah there were gay undertones during sequence 8, but i have to admit my bias here because i honest to god cannot take those missions seriously. Roth fucking preaches this and that about freedom and whatnot and then im plopped into the mission and it's the most rule-heavy shit ive ever seen in my short life as an assassin's creed player. Like what the hell, those missions were atrocious. Apprently i need to detonate the bombs a specific way, i cant just shoot them from a distance, i have to hold a button crouching down right next to the bombs, and then run the hell away! I have to avoid THIS and THAT while kidnapping xyz! Like there's freddy's apprehend missions and then there's THIS.

at least with ned's missions all you have to do is get the shit and go… i'm still salty that ubisoft cut his questline because they fucking insist on releasing a game a year >:((

my battery's dying. All these guys are different flavors of queer on top of just being pretty different and pretty similar in various ways, and there's just… barely anything about it. Ned especially, since he's just a quest giver whose screentime totals to, like, 2-5 minutes. I just wish they really did more with the setting; not just the queerness and these three specifically, but like, evie, henry, the class conflict — like there are shreds of it, seeds, but there's not much before you kill starrick and credits roll :((

idk. im just gonna refresh ao3 again cjemddjekjx

[trafficblrpositivityproject]

Massive shout out to my fellow hgcz mods @kunehokki, @corvidaearts, and @cocoabats -- working with you guys has been nothing short of an incredible experience all around and i am so proud and honored to call yall friends. You guys mean the world to me!!! All of your hard work is seen and appreciated not just by me but by all of our contributors and all the readers of the zinethology itself❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Eirian, for your first ever zine modding experience you fucking knocked it out of the park. You were so on top of everything and kept such careful track of what our contributors needed-- you've definitely earned your title as the nicest mod :]]] You have a real skill for moderating social media and you've continued to do so with extreme grace and poise-- im grateful we have you on our team!! You fit into that role so smoothly it was like you were always meant to be there. I hope you are incredibly proud of your hard work, because you put in so much effort to keep that side of our project running smoothly its actually insane❤️❤️❤️ And as the dedication i wrote in the zine puts it, it was you who came up with this project's idea in the first place, and i hope everyone acknowledges your wonderful creativity that led to this once-in-a-lifetime fandom project 🫂🫂🫂🫂

Crow, ive known you for many many years, and you have always been one of the most insanely strong and organized people ive ever met ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ You took on so much behind the scenes, all the logistics and technical duties that we werent equipped to handle by ourselves, and you made them easily digestible for us to keep track of like it was nothing. You are such an important member in our group!! You kept us grounded and greased the wheels when we needed help, picking up extra task after extra task wherever it was needed. All the documents you put together and the notes you helped take during our mod meetings were so crucial to how smoothly the zinethology operated-- we couldnt have done it without you. Also dude your spreadsheets are so fire how the fuck do you do that its like magic

Julia, you worked yourself to the bone organizing our layout, making logos and branding and custom emojis for the social media sections-- you're a goddamn wizard. All this while also acting as a pinch hit contributor, too!!! You were so essential to this project coming together as professionally as it did, and i had a blast working together with you on editing the zine as a whole. Those late nights while you streamed and we chatted about where things should go and how things should look will always be treasured by me, it was lovely to see you work and to just plain hang out with you 🥰🥰🥰🥰 the sheer amount of dedication you put towards our zinethology cannot be overstated and i think that truly shines through every page down to and including the absolutely adorable little hg/cg wings you put around the page numbers :]c

All of you are absolutely incredible and i wanted to pour my heart out a little to make sure you know just how AMAZING of a team you are to work with, and how grateful i am that youre all in my life!! Your passion and creativity truly shines ❤️❤️❤️ heres to next year's barrage of planned zines!! I cant wait to continue working alongside you as your head mod❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

@kunehokki + @corvidaearts + @cocoabats !!!

[thefrontofmymind]

Unknown (matty healy x reader)*

WARNINGS: THIS IS SMUT, IF I FIND OUT A MINOR READS THIS IM TELLING UR PARENTS

a/n: this is a part 2 to all things end, this one is based off of the song unknown by hozier. listen to it, it's such a good song

You spent months living your life before you let yourself think about him again. You were invited to a dinner party at the Hann’s, it would’ve been weird if he wasn’t invited. You were thinking of it as something of a preemptive strike against yourself–finally thinking through and addressing your relationship with Matty. 

It’d been easy so far, he’d been away on tour so things in your flat were like they always were, apart from the day after you knew they’d all gotten back when George showed up to your flat, asking for some of his things. You let him take most of Matty’s things, from a list you saw he was reading off of from a text on his phone–a guitar he particularly loved, some of his clothes he didn’t pack for tour, and his stack of full notebooks he’d compiled over the years. He let you keep all the records housed in a floor-to-ceiling shelf in your living room. You knew there were some especially rare ones in the collection, ones you knew he tracked down after years and years of looking.

You decided the best way to really digest everything you’d hid away in a locked-up cupboard in your mind was to write a letter. You didn’t go into it thinking you’d ever give it to him, but you just wanted to write down all the things you wish you could say to him, so you could start again with a clean slate of sorts.

Dear Matty,

To start out this letter, I should tell you that, even now, I think I’ll always love you. Of course you knew this from our last proper conversation, but it’s still true now over 2 months later. We did so much together, you’ll always have a piece of my heart, and I hope mine your’s.

I try not to think about you when I see the ashtray I made for you during that week of quarantine when I got really into pottery. It still sits at its home on the window sill of the bathroom. I try not to turn my head too quickly when I’m out in public and I hear a Northern man speaking behind me. I don’t think I can ever watch True Romance again without thinking about my favourite song, I don’t think I could listen to Fugazi again without thinking of that goddamn t-shirt you wore until it was covered in holes.

I never said it enough, but I’m still so proud of you. For everything. You are a true image of dreams being accomplished, you’re basically a legend in the making. I know you never liked me inflating your ego too much, but I hope you’ll take this compliment at least this once.

This could be misconstrued as a little selfish, but I hope you’re hurting as much as I have been. I hope you struggle to think of me, I hope you reminisce on the good times and dwell on the tough times. I don’t know where you’re staying at the moment, I’m still getting all your mail so you mightn’t have gotten a new place yet, so you’re probably staying with George or someone, but I hope there’s things that remind you of me. Like those cufflinks I bought you for the first of your birthdays we spent together or when you see a movie on Netflix you know I love.

I hope that when we see each other again, there’s not a shred of any contempt in my heart. We don’t have to be friends, but it would kill me if we couldn’t even speak.

Love From Me

As you folded it and slid it into an envelope you felt so much lighter. And with it placed at the bottom of the drawer of your nightstand, you felt like you could breathe freely–for the first time in months.

Now you just had to face him. A task easier said than done, even with your previous exercise, it was a bandaid that made the pain bearable.

The evening of the dinner, you made sure to look your best. Not for Matty, no. You needed to show everyone else that you were fine–you were sure Matty had told them all about what happened, and the only one of his bandmates you’d spoken to was George. It was a shock when you got the text from Carly asking if you were free, you thought the end of your relationship with Matty would mean the end of your friendship with the people around him. Not to say you weren’t pleasantly surprised, just a little bit caught off guard.

You did a quick once-over before you headed out the door, and in the least self-conceited way, you’d never looked hotter. Your makeup was perfect, your hair had that fluffy, 90s supermodel look, and you were wearing a dress that fit you like a glove, in a colour that was the perfect compliment to your glowing skin.

On the drive there you were trying to psych yourself up. It wasn’t a big deal…You could do this. Even as you were walking towards the front door and you could hear laughs inside, you kept telling yourself you would be okay…even if you didn’t believe it all that much.

Only about a second after you pressed the doorbell, you were greeted with the sight of the one, the only Jamie Squire.

“How are you, kid?” He asked excitedly, giving you a friendly hug.

“Oh…You know,” you answered. Because he most certainly did know. You held up the mid-priced bottle of red wine you brought. “Where should this go?”

“Oh Carly’s in the kitchen,” he said.

You were glad to see Carly alone in the kitchen, checking on whatever meal was in the oven. She was just as dolled up as you–you were glad you wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

“Carls!” You called to her as you entered the kitchen.

She excitedly turned and gave you a hug, and gave you a compliment on your makeup. You were always grateful for the friendship between The 1975’s WAGs, past and present.

“So where’s the little rockstar?” You asked, you always loved spending time with Baby Hann, as one of his godparents you’d spent many days playing along with any game he could come up with–which were becoming more and more inventive as he got older.

“He’s at Ad’s parents’,” she answered, you frowned. “Hey, we need a night off every so often!”

“I know…I know…” You joked as you poured a glass from the bottle you brought. “Well then where’s your lovely husband? Need to tell him he should help out his wife.”

“He’s in the living room with everyone else…” She got quiet at the end of her sentence.

“Hey,” you said in a serious tone. “It’s okay, I can be around him.”

“You’re sure?”

“I think.” You laughed.

“If you say so…” She went back to preparing some kind of sauce on the stovetop, leaving you to wade into the unknown. 

You followed the noise of laughter and talking. You were greeted with the sight of George standing in front of everyone else, telling some insane story of his–and the band’s–youth. He trailed off mid-sentence when you entered, and his audience all whipped their heads around to look at the interruption.

Immediately everyone stood, each taking turns to greet you with a polite hug. Last was Matty, he hung back as everyone else said hello. You were so distracted you didn’t notice him at first, but when you did, it was clear how he’d been doing. His hair was longer than before, but not in a way that seemed like he was trying to grow it out, he had a light sprinkle of stubble, and the suit he wore–a staple for him recently–was wrinkled and it looked just a little too big on him.

You politely gave him a kiss on the cheek. You were engulfed in the scent of his cologne, a scent you didn’t realise you missed so dearly.

“How are you, love?” He asked. Love. Sometimes things don’t change, you thought.

“I’m alright,” you said with a bright facade. “Busy with work.”

“Good! Me too,” he answered.

Soon you were whisked away by whomever wanted to talk to you next, not even given an opportunity to say goodbye.

And that was how it went for most of the evening, you’d somehow end up standing next to each other, and someone would intervene. You couldn’t blame your friends, they just wanted to minimise the tension, but there was nothing that could be done about your heart shattering more and more every time you got a look at him.

It got later into the night, and soon the group began to get thinner and thinner. At just a few stragglers left, you saw Matty in the back garden, smoking a cigarette and scrolling through his phone. It was time.

Maybe it was the bottle of wine giving you the courage, but you knew you couldn’t end the night without a proper conversation with Matty, it would be just plain rude not to.

He didn’t react at hearing the clunk of your heels on the wooden deck he was sitting on, only when you sat down right next to him. All he did was offer you a drag of his cigarette which you took, like old times.

“I’m glad you came,” he said after you handed the ciggie back to him. “Here, I mean.”

“Me too…” You answered. “Was a fun night.”

“Did you see how pissed Charli was?” He smiled. “G had to carry her to the car.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” you laughed. “So…uh…where are you staying at the moment?”

“I’ve been bouncing around…” He answered. “Here for tonight.”

You nodded. He seemed quite content to keep scrolling on his phone in silence, but you didn’t want to quit.

“Do you think we could be friends?” You asked. “One day, I mean…eventually.”

Matty looked at you–properly–for the first time since you sat down. “I hope so. Just…”

“What?”

“I need to get over some stuff before that,” he said, nonchalantly, stubbing out his cigarette on the wood of the deck. “Like…I don’t think I’ll ever love someone the way I love you. Like ever.”

Your heart sank at the admission. Everything you’d done to prepare yourself to face him calmly suddenly went out the window.

“Then what are we doing?”

He looked confused by your question.

“Why are we both miserable and just not doing anything about it? Why did we decide to split up if this was how it would end up?”

You were admittedly a bit drunker than you realised at first, you’d never have as much courage to talk to him about all this if you were completely sober.

“Because…” He started. “We run our course.”

“Who says?” You could feel something–Anger? Passion?–bubbling up. “Why should we suffer doing something that neither of us really want? Why were we so rash with all this?”

That last question was more to yourself, why did you give up so easily? You could see Matty’s eyes had a slight gloss to them, yours matched them.

“I don’t know.” Was all he said. And it was enough to solidify your decision of what you were about to do.

You began to lean forward, strong eye contact between the two of you. Matty met you in the middle and before you knew it you were engulfed in the warmth of his kiss, now letting the tears flow freely. It was some kind of cathartic release, all pent up over the last few months.

You didn’t break away until you were in desperate need of air. You both caught your breaths, just staring at each other. Eventually Matty let out a small chuckle.

“What?” You asked, confused but matching his grin.

“Was just thinking…” He started. “I’m supposed to stay here tonight…And I don’t know how I’m gonna sneak out to spend the night with you.”

You laughed. “Well that’s very presumptuous of you.”

“Well I know my audience…” He quipped. It was true, he knew the kind of person you were, as evident when you brought him back to your flat after your first proper date and silently begged him not to judge you–which he didn’t.

You both sat in silence for a little while, a comfortable silence. You didn’t want to go back inside, you felt safe in just Matty’s presence. But you were thinking, how would you explain this to everyone? Simple, you didn’t have to. As much as you loved the band and everyone that came along with them–your family–you did like being alone some of the time. And you thought it best to be alone right now.

“Well I’m going home,” you said, standing up.

“What do I do?” He asked.

“I don’t know! Come up with some excuse! Like you need another pack of fags or something!”

“Carly doesn’t like me smoking here! I had to sneak that one!” He pointed to the butt that was sitting crumbled on the deck next to him.

You sighed. “Just come up with something?”

He laughed. “I’ll try…”

You bid a farewell to the last of the group, and thanked the wonderful couple for hosting. As you turned the ignition of your car, a sense of excitement ran through you. You felt like a teenager again, sneaking around with a boy that made you giddy.

When you got back to your flat, you hurriedly tidied as best you could; making your bed, drying and putting away the dishes you’d left on the sink. When you finally had the time to get a look at yourself in the mirror and saw the sight before you, you quickly refreshed your makeup, fixing your smudged lipstick and creased concealer.

And then you waited on your sofa, after you poured yourself a glass of wine to keep your fearlessness going. Time ticked by ever so slowly. You must’ve checked your phone about two hundred times over the course of about 50 minutes. Eventually you heard a series of rapid knocks at your door, it could only be him. As soon as you opened the door his lips were on yours, feverish and rough.

“What took so long?” You asked in between kisses.

“Had to wait for everyone to leave…” Another kiss. “And then for Hann and Carly to go to bed.”

You just smiled. You had the adrenaline of a horny teenager.

In a flurry of clothes being stripped off between biting, hot kisses, you made your way to your bedroom. A task that was easy for Matty, purely for muscle memory.

There was no need to warm up to it. You straddled Matty and engulfed him in another kiss that almost made you melt.

“You want me to wear a condom?” He asked in a string of breaths, trying not to focus on the heat radiating from you on his thighs.

“I know I’m still clean, are you?”

“Of course.” Was his way of saying there’d been nobody else, An admission that made you beam.

You took gentle hold of his cock, running your thumb over the tip and eliciting a moan from him. And even more as you slowly lowered down on him. It felt comfortable, like home.

As you began to bounce, keeping firm eye contact with Matty, you could feel a bubble start to form in your abdomen. 

You felt your spine turn to jelly when Matty placed two firm fingers on your clit, massaging it in a familiar pattern that you hadn’t felt in months. You were rapidly approaching the edge.

“Ma–Baby…” You began to get out. “Al-almost there…”

“Do you want me on top?” He asked, you nodded.

In a flash, Matty readjusted you so you were laying on top of the mattress, lifting your hips up just a little so he could hit that spot, over and over and over again.

You were biting your lip to stop from letting out the most guttural moan, you just about drew blood. But you just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Once Matty had hit your g-spot one last time, you just unravelled underneath him. He kept thrusting as you ran out your high, but it wasn’t long before he was emptying into you and collapsing next to you.

In a hazy silence, you both were laid on your bed–yours and his–catching your breaths. After a few minutes of recovery, you sat up a little to look at Matty. He was staring at the ceiling with the biggest smile you’d ever seen on him.

“You alright there?” You asked, with a smile of your own.

“Yeah just…” He took a second to gather his thoughts. “Just really, really happy.”

“Me too.”

The rest of your evening–in a word–was still. You were sat in bed, now under the covers with legs intertwined, just talking. Talking about anything, everything, what you missed out on each other’s lives in the past couple months.

But there was one thing you wanted to tell him–needed to tell him. It was whispering at you from the drawer of your nightstand.

“I have something for you,” you said.

“Oh?” Matty asked with a smile as turned away from him to retrieve the envelope. “Is it a good something or a bad something?”

“Good, I think.” You handed him the envelope that had ‘to Matty’ scrawled on the front. “I wrote it a couple days ago, I just wanted to get all my feelings out.”

As he opened the envelope and quickly scanned the paper within, he got the memo. “A letter for me?”

“You don’t have to read it, or if you want to I can leave the room if that makes it easier…”

“No, you don’t have to…” He said with urgency. “Just sit with me?”

You nodded and shimmied closer to him as he read. It took a couple minutes, after he was done, he folded it back up and placed it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. You finally looked at him, he had tears in his eyes.

“I…” He said shakily. “I love you so much. And I’m never letting you go again.”