#lord help me i am on a fucking DEADLINE

[jen-with-a-pen]

y'all how am I supposed to do any work at home when the internet is right there, which means logan howlett fics and wolverine edits and hugh jackman clips are right there

[aemondsladywife]

Until He Met Her

aemond targaryen x reader

author's note: i am SO sorry this is so late, i lost my phone which meant i lost this and i've been dying in deadlines but i hope you like it, i haven't written in years, feedback is appreciated <3

genre: slight angst, fluff at the end <3

aemond targaryen did not believe in love.

he saw the way his father treated his mother, the way his brother treats his wife. he knew very well that his marriage would be one of duty, to increase alliances and to produce heirs.

aemond targaryen did not believe he could be loved.

sure, his mother loved him, but that was it. it was the day that he lost his eye that consolidated his feelings. other than his mother, not a single person had defended him, not even his own father. he felt sorry for his future wife, having to live someone such a 'monster' like him.

that was until he met you.

it was his nephew's nameday celebrations or in aemond's eyes, another excuse for his brother to get drunk. the prince hated such celebrations like this. he found them rather pathetic, lords drowning themselves in their cups whilst the ladies entertain themselves with the latest gossip. however, aemond kept himself entertained with his observations and on his nephew's nameday, his observation was you.

you stuck out to him the moment you walked in. this was the first time he'd ever seen you, walking in with a smile plastered on your face, bursting with energy, greeting every single guest as if the celebration was your own. in all honesty? he found you bizarre. he found it bizarre how you insisted on acquanting yourself with every person in the room regardless of their birth. he found it bizarre as to how he can hear your loud laugh from the other side of the table. he even saw you talk to his stoic grandfather which caught him by surprise. he couldn't bring himself to admit it, but he was sliently waiting for you to approach him.

however, aemond's attention was diverted when he heard his name mentioned in the whispers of the lords and ladies, started by tyland lannister.

"how can the kings brother remain unwed? there must be something gravely wrong with him."

"he has one eye, is that not enough wrong with him."

"i heard that along with eye went his heart."

"which lady would want to lay with such a deformed creature?"

although the prince was used to such chatter and knew it was best to ignore and rise above, to remain unbothered, he still felt hurt. his missing eye always was and always will be his greatest insecurity.

"gods brother, you look like you've got something stuck up your backside no wonder why you've never danced with anyone other than mother." aemond rolled his eyes at the sound of his brothers voice, fighting the urge to put his fist in face.

"it is not that no lady wants to dance with me, i do not want to dance. whilst you fuck, drink and dance brother, i do your job." he replied with anger laced in his voice. aegon backed down, knowing better than to provoke his brother even further.

the music had changed which meant it was time for the dancing, which was also aemond's cue to leave. he never bothered to approach ladies, he could see the fear and disgust on their faces and would rather leave than face rejection.

"my lord Lannister, it has been a while are you keeping well?"

aemond felt slightly disappointed but not surprised by your approachal to the lannister lord. he had hoped you wouldn't mix with such people but then again, who didn't view him in such a way?

"my lady y/n, your beauty increases by the day, i would be a fool not to ask for this dance."

just as the prince was ready to leave, he heard,

"it is with great regret my lord i cannot accept your offer as i am to dance with another. my prince Aemond, may I have this dance?"

the prince was more than shocked. he concealed his feelings well enough but he couldn't help but feel confused. first, he was confused by you. you came in smiling with mountains of energy entertaining every single person now you came up to HIM and asked him for a dance? confused was an understatement. not only that, it wasn't normal for a lady to ask a prince for a dance nor was it normal for aemond to dance in such occasions with anyone other than his mother or sister. he was nervous, he could feel the all the eyes on him.

"with pleasure, my lady."

with that aemond took your hand and placed one hand on your waist and began to dance. he knew he was a good dancer, all the years of training meant he was swift on his feet but it still wasn't enough to stop his nerves.

"you seem tense, my prince?"

his one eye looked at you. he found you beautiful. he knew he was dancing with the most beautiful woman in the room. he strongly believed that you danced with him out of pity.

before he could replied you leaned in to his ear and whispered,

"take a look at tyland lannister for me my prince, i think his reaction might be enough to ail you."

he looked past your shoulder and right at the lannister lord who had an amusing mixture of jealousy, shock and confusion written accross his face to which both you and aemond couldn't help but laugh.

he visibly loosened up after that, which caught the attention of his mother and grandfather who shared a knowing look. after everything that happened with her own marriage, aegons and helaena's marriage and aemond's traumatic childhood, all alicent wanted was for aemond to be happy and loved.

aemond quickly spun you both around so aegon was in your eye line, who's face showed nothing but pure confusion.

"my lady, just behind me is my brother, the king, tell me what does he look like right now?"

"his grace seems rather perplexed my prince, but i think that may be due to all the ale."

you both made eye contact once again and couldn't help but laugh. whilst aemond was enjoying himself, the insecurities came creeping in. he couldn't understand why you would dance with him.

"tell me, my lady, why is that you dance with me?"

"is there any reason why i shouldn't dance with you my lord? is there something you are not telling me?" you reply amusingly

"do you not hear the whispers of the court? most ladies are repulsed by the sight of me." he said lightheartedly, but you could hear it was much more than a jest.

your squeeze his hand for a moment and hold it a little tighter. you knew the real story of prince aemond, and you couldn't help but have a soft spot for him.

"but of course i hear the whispers. but why should i take any heed? before me is a handsome, brave prince who rides the greatest dragon is westeros, why would i be repulsed? those who cower away and take heed to the gossip are at a great loss, they do not get to meet the prince aemond i have just encountered."

his gaze softens. he couldn't find an ounce of insincerity in your voice. he felt appreciated and at the very moment, the prince realised he had fallen for you. prince aemond targaryen, who had never truly known peace, finally felt it with you.

"my lady, i would like you to meet my mother."

taglist: @moonmaiden1996 @the-orions-belt @animusxy @uselessbutinteresting @dianaelena15 @sahanna @skythighs @modicum-ofnothing @cullenswife @ewansmitchells @whitesunflower @mugiwaraelly @fultimefangirl @allyoursriver @molieski @sunna-fangirls @fragilemarissa @stillinracooncity @paperstreetsoaps

*tags w a line through didn't work!!

**i really appreciate comments and reblogs <3

[shadowqueenjude]

Azriel stood there silently, staring at Rhysand as he gave him instructions.

“So, are you ok with it? Dealing with Eris?”

Now, Azriel was no political expert, but he didn’t see how this could possibly work. “You do remember the High Lord meeting, right?”

Rhysans shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair. “So?”

Azriel’s shadows swirled agitatedly around him. “Where I, you know, tried to strangle him?”

Rhysand snorted. “Helion was into it, you know.”

Azriel bared his teeth at Rhysand. “Is there anything that man isn’t into? The point is, I hate him and I’m sure Eris feels the same way about me. It’ll be a disaster. Besides, I am no courtier.”

Rhysand slammed his hand on the table, leaning forward. His violet eyes were filled with rage. “You will do as I say, Azriel. Mor is in Vallahan, and after the Nesta incident, we cannot use Cassian anymore. After Solstice, one would think you’d have stopped trusting yourself to make intelligent decisions.”

Azriel blushed, but he sent all his raging back at Rhysand. “Fine,” he grumbled under his breath. “I’ll do it.” Not like he would’ve dared disobeying Rhysand anyway.

“Good. I accept a full report by midweek.”

Azriel spent the next few days researching the Autumn Court with the help of his good friend Gwyn. She was very helpful and clearly very clever, but no one could cram this much knowledge into a few days. Whatever. Perhaps he’d just kill Eris for good this time. What did they even need him for anyway? The image of Mor nailed to the border of Autumn caused his hands to clench into fists.

Prick. Cunt. Asshole.

It didn’t matter how many names Azriel called Eris; it didn’t change the deadline fast approaching. Fuck. What would Azriel even say? He was no good at this shit. He scribbled down a few opening lines on a piece of paper that he shoved into his pocket, trying to soothe his anxiety. He felt naked without his usual Illyrian leathers, dressed in a black and gold doublet which was so far out of the realm of something he would wear. This seemed ostentatious even for Rhysand, but something that Eris would approve of. Yuck.

Azriel’s shadows tried to send him soothing thoughts and words, one of them going so far as to caress his cheek. Azriel slapped it away.

It’ll be ok, Azriel. Just stick to the script.

Azriel melted into shadow and reappeared at the meeting location. All words emptied out of his head, filled with only a pounding rage that saw a vulnerable target that ought to be taken out. Azriel walked towards him silently, blending into the shadows. On the last few steps, Azriel leapt at Eris, who whipped his head around so fast that Azriel didn’t see it coming.

Eris blasted him back with fire, pinning him to the ground in orange-red manacles. Azriel’s shadows swirled around him maniacally as Eris smirked at his supine form. His body glowed with an aura of flame, a sound like crackling embers emanating from his form. Such a contrast to his dark, silent form made to blend in.

“They didn’t send the general this time?” Eris crooned. Cassian. Azriel gave away nothing. Eris pulled out a dagger- Nesta’s Made dagger- and began cleaning his nails. “Well, thank the Mother for that. Perhaps you, at least, will speak like someone who has had an education.”

Azriel scowled. “You know just as well as I that I possess no political acumen.”

Eris shrugged, that smirk not leaving his face. “Worry not, shadowsinger. The bar is…exceptionally low.”

Eris had the ability to turn a compliment into an insult with the slightest turn of phrase. It rankled Azriel, who struggled against his chains of flame, trying to sneak his way out.

Eris tsked. “Already sick of me, Illyrian brute? My my, you lot have no stamina,” he drawled. He conjured a chair and sat on it, facing his prisoner. “Any news from Night, Azriel?”

Azriel kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t about to reveal precious information without Eris giving something as well.

Eris chuckled. “See?” he crooned. “Already better than Cassian. He would’ve been spilling everything to me before I even had the chance to ask.”

A mocking compliment, but Azriel couldn’t deny that some part of him relished being better than Cassian. Cassian, who’d slept with his love Mor out of jealousy. Cassian, who Feyre, Rhysand, and Mor all preferred to him. Cassian, who had an Archeron mate while he did not.

“What is happening with your father,” Azriel asked flatly. Eris’s smile faded. “Lucien and I exchanged some information while I visited Spring. You’ve stationed him there for the time being, yes?”

Azriel clenched his teeth and nodded. Eris continued, “He told me that Tamlin and Tarquin intended to start relocating Spring Court refugees in Summer back to Spring, and well…it seems that somehow my father has gotten word of it.” He fixed his piercing amber eyes on Azriel. “My father intends to infiltrate the refugee train. Spark violence there. I’m sure his goal is to take down Spring and Summer in one swoop.”

Cold trickled down Azriel’s spine. The Hybern war had left them all vulnerable, and it seemed that Beron would stop at nothing to obtain all of Prythian for himself.

“Then you must know,” Azriel said quietly. “We had an intergalactic visitor recently.”

Eris’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, the only sign of his surprise. “What?”

“It seems that there are some who have the ability to travel through worlds,” Azriel continued. “The girl who came…she has revived the Dusk court. Beron may be coming after that abandoned land too, and he may be seeking allies outside of this world. Allies far more formidable than even Koschei.”

Eris scrubbed his face, true emotion shining in there for once: worry. “This is crucial information. Thank you for telling me, shadowsinger. I must return home straight away.”

Taken aback by the abrupt announcement of his departure, Azriel whispered, “How are we going to stop him?”

Eris smiled, though it didn’t meet his eyes. “Trust me, shadowsinger. I’ve been dealing with him for centuries.” Then, to Azriel’s eternal shock, Eris knelt before him, his eyes searching and open, his face soft. He pressed his hand to Azriel’s cheek, bending his face over so that their lips were centimeters apart.

“I look forward to working with you more often, shadowsinger,” Eris murmured, and Azriel felt his breath against him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe until Eris stood up and winnowed away.

The manacles disappeared with Eris. Azriel got up, brushing the dirt off of his clothing. He cursed himself for letting him get so close, for letting him affect him so, for not being more vicious.

He hated that he liked Eris Vanserra more than his own found family.

For Day 1 of @azrisweek contrasts

also tagging @hieragalbatorixdottir

[antiqua-lugar]

fuck it it's veilguard plotting time

just spent three hours putting things into boxes and couldn't even go to gym because my headphones died, moving sucks, i am taking a break so it's plotting rooks for veilguard time!!! (with the help of this picrew)

main rook: male - dwarf - warrior - shadowdragons - LI: Lucanis

just a regular dwarf from a merchant family in the dwarven enclave of minrathous who went well. this is fucked up. dwarven society is fucked up. tevinter society is fucked up. i really can't sit here and not do anything about it.

his house isn't happy but his family is supportive and also they have given up on telling him what to do long ago. the one time they tried to matchmake him, his perspective wife decided to follow her dreams and ran away to antiva.

depending on how they met it's not impossible he flirted with varric. he will do it again because is he just supposed to NOT flirt with famous author varric tethras?!

tall for a dwarf to go with lucanis being a short king.

rook: female - city elf - rogue - shadowdragons - LI: neve

your regular hypercompetent servant who is actually plotting a revolution. on the side she's looking for her favourite uncle who disappeared months ago. if he got killed she would like to know by whom and shank them.

conceptually, started as the watson to neve's noir holmes and instead she became a jeeves.

rook: male - dalish elf - NOT A MAGE - grey wardens - LI: davrin

bargained his way into the grey wardens in exchange for help with his clan and now he is faithfully fighting darkspawn - preferably nearby other dalish clans, thank you very much. "wardens can't have families" but no one said anything about not checking up on your allies, did they. spent a few years in the deep roads and learnt some dwarven and also likes dwarven food. depending on the world state he might or might not have spent a night with a warden hawke. he definitely hit on velanna and she said no. his sister is a keeper.

i predict many "no, the OTHER dalish grey warden" moments.

he's supposed to be the stoic type on the outside.

rook: nb - human - mage - antiva crows - LI: emmrich

between the circle and becoming an assassin that at least can go whatever the fuck they want, at five years old they already picked becoming an assassin.

really good at disguises and going undercover despite the fact that they are REALLY FUCKING TALL so they definitely stand out in a crowd. how the fuck does that work.

they definitely aren't telling emmrich to just let them know if he needs more corpses.

they might have some white hair due to crow training do not even worry about it.

rook: male - human - ? - mourn watch - LI: taash

he's a scholar. he is doing the thedas equivalent of a phd. he is tired. picrew doesn't let me show it but he's greying and it's mostly the stress. he is 100% into whatever solas is doing because it looks extremely cool and he wants to know everything about it but also can solas stop doing it he has deadlines.

i think he'll probably not be a mage but whatever role i think will work better to be a mortalitasi assistent.

either extremely tall so he and taash can look like the biggest couple you have seen in your life or quite short so she use him as headrest.

rook: female - dalish elf - ? - lord of fortunes - LI: bellara

she genuinely thinks it's fun to hunt for treasure but also she's on a quest to retrieve elven artifacts and bring them back to the dalish.

i'm thinking she might be a mage in a year where no one really needed a second or a third so she was allowed to go adventuring as long as she promised to write back regularly.

also I like the idea that she left a guy at the (metaphorical) altar when she killed a bear for their engagement and realised she was dreading it and would rather go have another round with the bear. she gave the pelt to her mom for safekeeping "i am definitely getting married one day I promise".

she always makes sure to bring jewelry for her mother and her sisters at every arlathvhen (she WILL attend even if it kills her).

rook: male - vashoth - ? - veil jumpers - LI: harding

there aren't that many options as a vashoth to build a life but sometimes you go hunting and thinking and stumble in people doing cool fade stuff in the woods.

i honestly ship harding so much with one of my inquisitors that romancing her myself is going to annoy me a bit, I can already tell. i really like this guy tho. oldest sister is working for the company lead by my ashkari adaar in a timeline where she isn't inquisitor.

[madame-fear]

it's really really dumb okay- but i swear the dumbest littlest storytimes make me cringe the fucking hardest, idk why, maybe it's the autism /hj

it has to do with me, obviously. have you ever had an idea for a work you wanted to post, and had like THE IDEA itself but didn't know how to write it? to the point where you know it's going to be so fucking good but- the writing ends up looking like shit because you don't have any imagination on how to start it?

well if that's the case, thats what happened to me as well. i had an idea, really great one and i wanted to develop it. i spent an entire week (i had a deadline for myself in order not to spend too much time so no other could post the idea before me) and in the end, since the deadline passed, i forced myself to make a small drabble out of it and post it. i literally posted it and went to bed like, now its in the hands of GOD, that child is not mine.

for previous context, before i even thought of developing the idea, i made a small post on my dash saying this:

(although it's an actual characteristic, like its not a headcanon or anything, its on their canon but everyone that wrote for that specific aspect wrote it with their own characterization / own take i did not want people accusing me of plagarizing)

and a mutual of mine said that please write it etc, i do not want to say the exact words in case they see this WHICH I HOPE NOT BECAUSE ITS NOT EVEN BAD BECAUSE IM CRINGING AT MYSELF BUT STILL

and i wrote it, super fast and badly, and posted it. and you know shit is bad when you recieve a: ooo that's good, from another mutual (not the one that left the note saying that please write it etc). BECAUSE I SWEAR IT FELT LIKE THOSE MOMENTS WHERE THE TEACHER DOESNT WANT TO TELL YOU DIRECTLY THAT YOUR WORK IS SHIT AND THEY SAY: it's good :)

NOT EVEN GREAT LMFAOSAO

the mutual that left the comment tho, they ended up liking my story- which i dont blame them, if i were them i would not even rb it myself tbh.

and the cringe only escalated from here, slowly but surely went up and beyond to the point where not even myself i could read that drabble and had it deleted it.

and you wanna know what's even more funny? (it's not). another acc, weeks later, posted a fic with the same fucking idea, just written with their personal style, and it has like 44 reblogs by now LMFAOO

my conclusion here is that whenever i remember that poor mutual that asked me to write the drabble for them and i did such a bad job that just recieved a like and weeks later found out another writer actually managed to acomplish what i wanted i cringe so fucking bad my eyes tear up

I AM FUCKING SCREAMING AND IN TEARS BECAUSE I GET THR PAIN SHWIKXEJIDKEKFI 😭😭😭

Like, you get an idea that’s so good to write, maybe a certain idea that hasn’t properly been written or one never seen before — the light of creativity is shred upon you blissfully. You tease your followers and people on the fandom about it, you prepare yourself mentally, wrap yourself around it because you know this fic is the one and true good SHIT; your best piece of work.

You have no idea how to put it in words, you just have the ghost of the idea lingering in you, so you try and prepare yourself so nobody else writes it before you. The time of putting it into words come when you think you are ready. And boom, you are staring at a full ass fic with disappointment, far away from what you wished and you are just like IN FUCKING TEARS FROM THE CRINGE.

HELP ME I SWEAR TO GOD THIS HAPPENED TO ME WITH THIS ONE EYED LORD LUKE FIC. I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE THE DARKEST FIC I EVER MADE AND ITS FAR AWAY FROM HOW I IMAGINED WRITING IT AND I AM DISAPPOINTED T MYSELF AND FEEL ABSOLUTE CRINGE I CANT EVEN READ IT QJNENDKAMNFJGDKSKJF

I feel you on the mutual being like a teacher, or like that one parent that goes "this is great honey!!!" but they obviously say it out of compromise 😭 Like it happened to me many times AND I GENUINELY FEEL EMBARRASSED WHEN MY MUTUALS READ MY CRINGY ASS WORKS.

I am actually certain your work was great! The thing is that maybe when we have an idea we haven’t seen before or know it might actually be good, despite preparing ourselves around that idea to shape it as we wish, we kinda hurry into it — so nobody else does it first like you said, and I can 100% relate. Or at least, that’s something I noticed on myself! Perhaps you can relate too? 😭

ALSO THE FACT THAT ANOTHER WRITER POSTED THE SAME IDEA AND HAS 44 REBLOGS I SWEAR TO GOD I WOULD BE CRYING KICKING SCREAMING I HATE IT WHEN THAT HAPPEBS LIKE ???? DOES GOD HAVE HIS FAVOURITES OR WHAT BRUHHH ITS NOT FAIR. WE PUT S MUCH EFFORT INTO OUR WORKS 😭😭😭 and surely the other writer too ofc BUT COME OOOON 🗡🗡🗡

[deeisace]

Okay, 1. I forgot what a good film School of Rock is, and 2. Who the fuck made Wednesdays a day I have to get up at 5am, oh god

Also the ASM is gonna be a dick about me taking today off cs I'm sick, I just fuckin know it

Every time someone's been off sick he goes on rants about how they're lying to get a day off (or smth like, oh, isn't it a coincidence that today's really busy in store and the student who has mental deadlines took a day off - like, fuck, idk, maybe, but you don't have to be a twat every second of your life, do you? Maybe he does, idk. Seems like it), and his mother never took a day off from the post office in 40 years and the store should come first and we've been left in the lurch and blah blah blah

Maybe we have been "left in the lurch", but it's one day out of literally a thousand, but y'know we aren't all your mother, and people are fucking entitled to call in sick?! People shouldn't have to work when they're sick! Idk laws, but there's definitely laws

For how much longer, idk, but there's definitely laws

Also, people are allowed to have an actual life, y'know - just cs you are somehow proud of working 50 hours a week - which you also shouldn't have to do, by the way, working yourself to death isn't something to be proud of - dun mean that everyone else has to go by your impossible fuckin "million pound store" standards

Also I hate his stupid slogans

I do not care how much money the store makes, it goes to whoever the fucking CEO is since the last guy got kicked out for embezzling, not me - I'm not going to "smash it", either, I'm going to stand here security bugging t-shirts until I am allowed to go home, and don't fucking get on at me about how I'm yawning too much, I get enough of that from the horrid fucking old men customers

Also he calls us "staff" all the time, there's like five of us (there's not, but still), there's no fucking need

Also whenever some customer says like, oh you're not Scouse, he always replies in the exact same way, "I'm a London boy, me" - which like, I'm autistic, I know a script, but fuck me I just hate everything about this petty little man, I'm sorry. How can you be that proud of being a Millwall supporter? Oh, "we're not all the same", nah, you mightn't be a violent thug, that I know of, but you're sure as fuck a sanctimonious little cunt tryna lord your horrid self over everyone else - mightn't be violence, but it's not fuckin nice either

Anyway. Fuck.

Oh thank fuck I don't have to open with him tomorrow

Just the wet-noodle muppet of a manager who's somehow really fucking good at making me do extra days and stay late

He knows I have no backbone in person so he just waits until it's an hour before my shift ends and goes "really sorry, it's really busy, can you stay til close? Please it would really help"

The one time I said no, literally the one time in over 4 years, he asked again like half an hour later with an extra-pathetic noodle-y pleeease we haven't got anyone else

Like that's your fucking fault, dipshit, you fucking hired everyone. Hire someone who's not a fucking student, please, I swear it won't kill you. Y'know what else won't fucking kill you, having enough people on staff that it's not the end of the fucking world somehow if someone calls in sick. Lean staffing or whatever it's called is the worst, what fuckwit came up with all this awful shit and how can we stop it, please

But of course I said yes, because I always say yes

Tomorrow I'm rota'd til 4 and I'm leaving at 4, I swear to god

[thelovelyramblings]

Something just occurred to me. I always thought that my inability to build a good study habit, stick to a diet or workout routine, make it to events on time, and meet deadlines was a discipline issue. And it really JUST NOW at thirty fucking seven hit me, that it is NOT a disciple issue.

I was disciplined enough to have had a job from the age of 14. Be paying whole household bills by 17. Live out of state and maintain myself until the 'adults' in my life failed me, so I had to go home. Work three jobs by 20. Continue maintaining my mother's house until we had to move at 25. Go back to school and maintain a steady GPA, even while struggling to keep it together. Hold my family back from killing each other long enough to complete my father's dying wishes.

Discipline is what allowed me to make all the hard decisions that brought me to where I am now, finally finding some level of peace and achieving the goals I set out for myself twenty plus years ago.

It's not a discipline issue. It's a give a fuck issue. It's a priority issue. Because I have spent my life being disciplined enough to maintain people who should have been supporting me, protecting me, and helping me grow. Doing that without breaking took discipline and SO much more.

So, in this year of our Lord 2024, I'm shifting my priorities and focusing that discipline on myself. Because I deserve to exert the same level of energy I put into everything and everyone else into myself for a change.

[lucycarlyle]

Today on Tumblr tm

And then

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[coastielaceispunk]

So Good For Me

Maxwell Lord x F!Reader

A Man’s World-Verse

Word Count: 4.4K+

Warnings: Language, established relationship, domestic family fluff, dom/sub situations, Switch!Max and Switch!Reader, masturbation, edging, fingering, orgasm denial, oral m receiving, dirty talk, praise kink, good boy/good girl, rough handling, face fucking, cum eating, brat taming if you squint, shower sex.

Summary: Ahead in work you find some time to surprise your husband Max for lunch. Let’s just say the day is full of surprises!

A/N: This adorable family is one of my favorite things to write. Alistair is so important to Max’s life and I can’t help but write him into these. The social normity they battle is very close to my heart and my life. I am also severely obsessed with Switch!Maxie to be honest. Thanks for reading!

MASTERLIST

+++++

On an ordinary Wednesday, you decide to surprise your supportive husband with a midday visit home. You never get to leave the office for an off site lunch, but you have worked hard to get ahead in your projects and exceeded your deadlines to do something nice for him. You’ve been working late hours and missing so much time, bringing him his favorite meal for a quick lunch before getting back to work sounds nice. For you both.

Max loves sweet surprises, and he loves you to the ends of the earth, so he will be ecstatic. With Alistair in school it will be nice to have a quiet meal with your man. After stopping on the way to pick up his favorite pasta dish, at his favorite local Italian restaurant, you are pulling into the driveway. Good, his car is here, he's not running errands. As you look up you notice very few lights are on inside the house. Is he home?

You grab your bag, the food, and expertly pile your wallet, keys, and beeper into one hand to exit the car. As quiet as you can, you put the keys in the door and enter. It's dark in the foyer and living room. Where is he?

“Maxwell?” you whisper into the seemingly empty house as you enter the kitchen. Maybe he is taking an afternoon nap and you don’t want to startle him, you’ll never hear the end of it. The food is placed on the island and you set off down the hallway to see if he's in the office. Not in there. Ok, he must be napping. You don’t have a ton of time and need to get back so maybe you will leave a note?

Then you hear a sound coming from upstairs. Perhaps that's him snoring because he's sleeping on his back? Oh Maxie. You begin to tip toe up the stairs towards the master bedroom to check on him, the door is wide open.

The sight that fills your eyes stops you dead in your tracks.

Max IS NOT sleeping. No.

Max is sitting on the bench, only in his navy blue silk sleep pants, knees spread wide, with his head thrown back, eyes closed, and one elbow behind him bracing himself on the foot of the bed. His other hand is in his pants, shoved underneath his waistband, pumping himself slowly bringing so much pleasure to his features. His brow furrowed in concentration and his lips part for his soft grunts to escape. The way his silk pants ripple with each motion of his fist shows the waves of ecstasy flowing off of his form. The tensing of his forearm, the stretch of his neck, the clenching of his bare abdomen…pure bliss.

It isn’t until you hear your name exhaled between his lips that you snap out of your statue like pause. Watching him from the doorway, he's touching himself thinking about you. Such a good boy he is. Max deserves more than just a surprise lunch, especially since he's already started without you.

“So needy aren't you baby?” You proclaim as you enter the room.

“Shit!” Max nearly falls off the bench as he jumps, the hand behind him grabbing his bare chest, his eyes immediately finding yours and softening from initial fear, “my darling, wha…what are you doing home?” He chokes out watching you cross the room to where he sits.

“I wanted to surprise you with lunch, but I can see my baby needs something else,” you speak slowly, quietly, while removing your work blazer and throwing it on the bed behind him. Max has already keyed into your tone and sits straight up with his one hand in his lap. “I didn’t know I gave you permission to touch yourself without asking nicely?”

“That…that’s so nice of you and…and I’m sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he continues to tug himself as you stand between his knees. You grab his wrist softly and remove his hand from his cock, he groans, “I had to.”

“Hmm, you have been a good boy lately,” you situate his hands on the tops of his thighs, “keep your hands there baby, okay?” Max nods and you give him a devilish smile, “Will you do as I say?”

“Yes.” Max cries out without hesitation.

“So good for me,” you say as you run your hands through his dark locks scratching his scalp, his eyes roll back and he shivers at your touch. “Now listen Maxwell, eyes open.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He answers as his hooded eyes find your gaze, the title makes your pussy flutter and you sigh in acceptance. This is about him right now.

You glance down at the large tent of his thin pants, you’ve been edging him since you walked into the room and know he could bust at any moment, any word from your sultry mouth would do it. The wet spot of his silk where his tip is proudly resting indicates he was so close before you rudely interrupted.

You take a long pause steeling your gaze with his…

“I am going to finger fuck your mouth,” you say with a sigh as you caress his face and run your thumb over his plush bottom lip, he whines, you continue, “you’re going to keep your palms right where they lay,” you tug on the hairs at the nape of his neck harshly to make him look up at you uncomfortably, his eyes widen and he grunts, “and you are going to come in your pants for me Maxwell.”

Max lets out a strangled groan and you see his cock jump from where you stand above him. He has a wrecked look on his face from your words alone.

“Can you do that for me baby boy?” you ask a breath away from his lips as you hold his jaw roughly.

Max nods as he squirms in his submissive pose. He sits so pretty for you when you choose to treat him this way. A way you are both very comfortable with after years of experimenting together.

“I need words sweetheart,” you demand as you release his jaw and run your fingers down the beautiful slope of his nose.

“Y…yes Ma’am!” he blurts out, unable to control the volume of his voice - he's so aroused by your handling of him.

At his agreement you part his lips with two fingers, oh so slowly, and push them into his mouth over his tongue. Your other hand braces on the back of his neck to hold him steady. Max looks up at you with his big brown eyes.

“Mmm, your lips look so pretty baby, and your mouth is so hot,” you look down at him and he moans around your fingers at the praise, “I hope my lips look this pretty around your thick cock.”

Max involuntarily rolls his hips looking for friction in his pants but never moves his hands like you asked. Your filthy words of praise and imagery have him panting, short exhales from his nose hitting the back of your hand.

You begin to pick up your pace fucking his mouth and start to move your fingers a little deeper, his eyes start to water. Max whimpers as you feel his whole body jump with anticipation of what you’ll say next as you look down at him with your mouth open.

“You look so good like this Maxwell, spit slick swollen lips, following direction so well, sitting like a good boy for me,” he starts to breathe a little harder and you can see his finger tips digging into his thighs with his usual bruising grip, he’s close, “are you going to ruin your favorite silk pants baby? I wanna see it, come in your pants Maxwell, c’mon, be my good boy.”

Max’s lips break the seal around your quick moving fingers as he cries out, his eyes tightly shut. You take this moment, knowing he’s on the edge again, to squeeze the back of his neck as hard as you can and drive your fingers even deeper down his throat. When you hear him gag and watch his eyes open in shock, your knees nearly buckle, your own arousal soaking your underwear and tights.

Max comes so hard he nearly stands up as his orgasm racks through his whole body, almost violently from all the edging. His hands slap his thighs and you jump. His hips buck a few times as you remove your fingers from his mouth slowly, his tongue licking them on the way out. Max then leans forward resting his head on your stomach, his body boneless.

You stroke the back of his head, his shoulders, then push him to lay back against the bed, “let me see baby,” Max obliges and leans back placing his hands on his rapidly rising and falling chest. You see the large wet spot of ruined silk and smile at him, he's already watching you, “you did so good.”

Max gives you a lazy smile as you move to hover above and kiss him, so proud. His hands find your waist and he pulls you on top of him deepening the kiss. You glance towards the clock and groan, annoyed.

“You have to go back, I know,” Max sighs with you then kisses you once, twice more and stands with a groan, handing you the blazer on the bed.

“I will be back before dinner,” you say before walking out the bedroom door together.

Max follows you down the stairs to see you out, “Alistair has a playdate this afternoon right after school but he will be home for dinner too.”

“Sounds great,” you answer with a happy nod while entering the kitchen, overjoyed he has made a good friend. As you are washing your hands at the sink Max presses himself against your back, his hands resting on the counter by your hips.

“Thank you for lunch my darling,” he kisses your temple, “I really loved my surprise visit.”

You spin around in his arms and hold him around his waist, “You are so welcome my love.”

Both grinning you kiss again before making your way to the door to grab your things. Max packaged your lunch to go so you actually eat something today. “What does your afternoon hold today bonita?” Max asks as he hands you the tupperware.

“Two meetings, but they will fly by, nothing too bad, you?” you quirk your eyebrow at him and glance down with a smirk.

“Ha, it seems I have some laundry to do!” you both laugh as Max grabs the door for you, “but don’t worry sweetheart,” he bends down to whisper in your ear, “I will surprise you back when you least expect it.”

You look into his dark eyes and it causes a shiver down your spine, you know he will get you back, ten fold. His wink guarantees it. You exchange ‘I love yous’ as you get into your car. The drive back to work is riddled with ideas of what Max will do in return.

+++

Home on time for dinner, just like you promised, Max greets you from the kitchen, hands covered in flour, as Alistair runs to you to give you a great big hug. As he continues to knead the dough for tonight’s ‘make your own pizza’ dinner, Max watches as you shower Alistair with kisses until he is trying to push you away giggling. The small boy pulls you into the kitchen babbling about his play date and school and his new best friend’s house. Max can’t help but look at you with so much love as you give your son your undivided attention and respond with questions, ooo’s and awe’s.

You finally reach his side as Alistair resumes his task of grating the cheese. With your arm around Max you lean up to kiss him hello. With a squeeze of his side, Max watches you excuse yourself to change out of your work clothes. He can’t take his eyes off of you as you walk up the stairs after what happened today during lunch.

Once you return a few minutes later, you all prepare your individual pizzas. It’s a fun family bonding activity that Alistair absolutely loves and it gets him in the kitchen. Max adores learning new recipes and cooking with his son. With the line of toppings laid out he observes his family’s choices as he hands them the pressed out dough. Alistair asked him to try the spin throw with the dough and he failed miserably with a laugh as it landed on the floor. Alistair giggled and told Max that they wouldn’t tell mommy about that one as he placed it in the trash.

Max makes his supreme pizza with all of the toppings, they chopped them all might as well use them. You make your favorite, Italian sausage and green peppers. Alistair makes a ‘gourmet’ pepperoni and cheese with a big smile. Max sets them all in the oven to bake and hangs in the kitchen as you take Alistair to the table to wait. He watches his beautiful family from afar with so much adoration. Alistair animatedly talking with his hands, like his Papa, and you giggling at his excitement and fun stories of his day.

When done he brings in everyone’s delicious looking pizzas, greeted with happy smiles. Family dinner comes and goes. He wishes these endearing moments would last forever, but there will be more.

After dinner, bath time, and some reading, Alistair is exhausted from his playdate. He goes to bed without a fuss and after kisses goodnight he is fast asleep under his glowing ceiling stars.

Max starts to clean up the kitchen and looks towards you bringing in some dishes, “I’ve got this my darling, why don’t you go take your shower and relax from your day.”

“You sure? I can help clean, you prepared every delicious morsel,” you answer as you hug him from behind, your hands on his full belly.

Max nods looking back at you as he continues to wipe the counter top. With a smile you agree and retreat to go get ready for bed with a nice hot shower.

This is his chance.

He finishes cleaning quickly and tip toes up the stairs, good the water is still running. He pokes his head in Alistair's room to check on him and sighs when he hears his tiny snores. The kid tuckered himself out today. Max closes his door and continues down the hall.

When he gets to the bedroom he strips himself of his day clothes, jeans and a button up. He enters the master bathroom silently, the air thick with steam, and slowly pulls back the shower curtain where you are currently shampooing your hair, eyes closed. Max takes in the vision of your naked body covered in soap suds and he roughly grabs his hardening cock. He carefully steps in behind you as you hum the current song stuck in your head.

“So beautiful sweetheart,” Max says slowly.

“Shit! Max!” you jump and he places his hands on your waist to steady you.

“Shh, surprise mi amor, now you know how it feels,” he says low and husky in your ear. You both giggle at his meaning, he rinses the last suds out of your hair, then he speaks seriously, “my baby girl looks so sexy covered in bubbles for me.”

He hears your breath hitch as he leans you against his chest. So warm and slippery. The water from the showerhead beating against your chest and abdomen. You easily sink into his soft hold. Then he moves his hand down to grab your ass firmly and you lean your head against his shoulder with a breathy sigh.

“So responsive to my touch baby,” Max whispers as he kneads your ass with strong fingers and caresses your lower stomach with his other hand. His fingers dip lower and lower each pass, closer and closer to brushing over your curls. Your hips roll up to seek his touch where he knows you want him and he continues, “do you want me to touch you darling?”

“Yes…” you sigh.

Max nudges his nose against your ear and with a nibble of your lobe he growls, “Ask me nicely like a good girl.”

“Yes, Sir, please, I need you to touch me,” you whimper and it echoes against the tile, the desperateness surrounds you both in the steam.

Giving you what you want, he surprises you again when he moves his hand from your ass, down between your cheeks, to slide his fingers through your folds from behind, you gasp and your hand slaps the tile wall.

“This sweet pussy is so wet…all for me baby?” he teases.

“Always, all yours, all for you Ma-AX!” you yelp when he cuts you off by sinking one of his thick fingers deep into your cunt. Max fingers you quickly and harshly, holding you close to him across your ribs. He slides in and out effortlessly, your slick starting to cover his whole hand. Max can’t help pressing his hardened cock against your side, using you for some of his own relief. You’re absolutely helpless against his all encompassing touch in the heat of the shower.

“Are you going to listen like a good girl? Will you do as I say baby?” Max pants along your neck then bites your shoulder demanding a response.

“Yes Sir! I..I will be good.”

Max groans in approval as he soothes his bite with his warm tongue, tasting the essence of your natural shampoo on your skin. Slowing his finger inside of you, he releases his grip from your side. Grasping your breast, he tweaks your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, because he can’t help himself, and you moan so sweetly to his ears.

Max roughly grabs your jaw and twists your face to look him in the eyes. Your face is so wrecked; mouth open, breathing heavy, eyes hooded in pleasure and eyebrows drawn together. You’re so pliant in his hands and he fucking loves it.

“Eyes on me baby,” he waits until your gaze finds his, he continues to very slowly finger you tip to knuckle, “this tight little pussy will come only when I say she can. Understood?”

“Yes, un…understood,” you mumble as he holds your jaw.

Max can tell you’re having a hard time standing as he fucks you with his thick finger, so he turns you abruptly and presses your front up against the cool tile wall of the shower. You squeal in his ear as your tits push upwards and he shudders. With the way your back arches he can’t help but rut against you as he kicks your legs further apart with his foot.

With you so open he adds a second finger and resumes his quick pace. The moan you let out cuts right through the thick air and he feels you clench, on the precipice of your release. Max's other hand moves to hold the front of your neck and lightly squeezes. You’re panting into his lips, so close, almost over the edge…when he removes his fingers completely. You whine annoyed and your ass presses against him seeking what you lost.

“Aww poor baby,” Max mock pouts with one eyebrow arched to tame you and you whimper under his control, “don’t want this to be over too quickly, remember, you come when I say so.”

“Yes Sir,” you answer like a good girl and wait patiently, your hands bracing on the wall so as to not interfere because he didn’t tell you that you could.

“Good girl,” he smiles and nudges his nose with yours. He palms your ass as he leans down to capture your lips in his for a feverish kiss. When he bites your bottom lip and pulls with a groan both of his hands shoot down.

One hand cups your mound and lifts you up only to lower you back down on his other two thick fingers. You wail at the way he is handling your body and say his name as a mantra when he resumes fingering you to the edge again.

Max doesn’t hold back now wanting you to come all over his hand because he needs something else from you before you exit this shower. When he presses two fingers to your clit and drives his fingers deeper, faster he whispers to your lips.

“Come baby girl. Come for me, all over my hand. I know you want to. You deserve it, listening so well. Come. Now.”

You scream his name as you come and he captures your lips to quiet you in the loud atmosphere. He feels your walls clench around his fingers and he pumps them in and out until you shiver. Max removes his fingers from your cunt and you whimper at the loss. You came so hard, your body tired, you start to slump against the wall satisfied. Max spins you around to face him and holds you close to kiss you again. Your hands come around his neck, fingers in his hair, and the kiss is all tongues and teeth, desperate.

He pulls away breathless, “Such a good girl for me,” you hum at his words as he holds your face and runs his thumb over your cheek bone, “I need one more thing darling,” your lustful eyes find his and Max moves his thumb to drag across your bottom lip, “I want you to wrap these pretty lips around my cock. I’m going to fuck your face. I’ve been thinking about it since lunch. Get on your knees for me.”

“Anything for you Max,” you sigh and sink to your knees under the water spray of the shower in front of him. Max throbs at your willingness and places his hand on the back of your head as he fists himself with his other hand. He’s so hard, his blunt tip angry and ready. With a fist full of your wet hair he guides your mouth towards his long, thick length.

He watches you open your mouth wide and stick your tongue out to kitten lick his tip. Such a brat. The spray of water streams over the beautiful features of your face, the droplets on your eyelashes as you look up at him in your submissive pose beneath him make him weak. He has to take back control.

Max pulls your hair to hear you moan, opening your mouth wider, and guides his cock past your lips into your mouth. Your hands brace on his thick thighs and scratch down as he starts to fuck your mouth in earnest. Your mouth is so hot and wet around him. His eyes fixate on your lips and the spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth.

“This smart little mouth loves to be filled with me doesn’t it?” Max groans as his other hand moves to hold under your chin and you nod the best you can.

“Lips so pretty and swollen, nghh” he moves his thumb to smear your spit all over your chin and cheek. The sight causes him to thrust a little harder and when you gag around him he throws his head back with a moan.

He’s almost there, lost in the heat of your mouth, and when he feels your hands snake around to hold the backs of his thighs he brings his chin back to his chest to give you a hard glare. Your eyes are closed in pleasure as you hollow your cheeks around him.

“Ohh sweetheart,” Max sighs, “so fucking good for me.”

You look up at him with watery eyes and he thrusts into your mouth a half dozen more times before he is spilling down your throat. You swallow waves of his arousal with every deep thrust and his thighs tremble at his release. When Max pulls his softening length out between your lips after a few moments catching his breath, you suck him dry and then lick your lips. He can’t help that his eyes roll back at the sight of you sitting back on your feet, hands resting in your lap, with the shower soaking you.

Max lifts you easily and crashes his lips to yours. He tastes his salty release on your tongue as he licks into your mouth. Holding you close to him he breaks the kiss to lean his forehead against yours. Both of your breathing evens out as you just hold each other in this moment of delightful intimacy.

“What a day my darling. I love you so fucking much,” Max sighs, he’s lost his filter, and you giggle at him holding his face.

“I love you too Maxie.” You sound a little hoarse but content.

“I’m so lucky I’m yours…let me wash you before we use all the hot water and then we can get a good night's rest,” Max kisses your damp forehead and you melt into him.

He soaps up every inch of you, his warm hands rubbing your whole body along with your loofah. Max pays special attention to your core, carefully cleansing you as you hum at his gentleness and how sensitive you are. He suspects he may have been too rough and you confirm that when you tell him you will be sore tomorrow with a sly wink.

When you are both squeaky clean he turns the cooler water off and helps you step out of the shower. Max wraps your relaxed form in the waiting fluffy towel and helps you dry off. You look so sweet and sated.

He wraps his towel around his waist to dry off fully when he gets you settled in bed. After your teeth are brushed, he lays you in the bed, under the covers and tucks you in. Your hand brushes his tummy to usher him down for a kiss goodnight.

“Sweet dreams, mi amor.”

“Night Maxie.”

Your eyes close and you drift to sleep easily, exhausted from the day's events and work. He brushes your cheek and pushes your drying hair off of your face. Max pads out of the room in his towel to check on Alistair one last time before bed. He cracks the door and his boy is still sleeping soundly, a little smile on his face. The same little smile his mom has when he walks back to get in bed. Max slides into the cool covers and curls around you.

“What a day.”

+++++

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[vlueyellow]

ADHD Bitty headcanons

Now, i might be projecting but I've always seen a lot of myself in Eric, which is why one of my favorite omgcp headcanons is ADHD!Bitty.

So, here they are

Please add to them if you have some as well!

Eric got diagnosed fairly early, but still late enough that his early school years sucked

And even when he did get diagnosed his teachers either didn't care or had no idea of how to help him

And trying meds only led to really bad side effects so he quickly stopped

Safe to say he struggled a bit (and the bullying didn't help that issue either, together with the whole internalized homophobia thing and good lord, someone get this boy to therapy-)

However, as he got older he kept researching and eventually figured out where he struggled and how he could help himself deal

This is also how he got into vlogging because he saw this one youtuber with ADHD who helped him a bunch but that's a different story

Now to his ADHD

Eric has the more discreet kind of ADHD which means he's constantly in fear of people think he's faking it and doing things for attention because he passes as neurotypical most of the time

This also results in a lot of masking, to the point of where he doesn't even know he's doing it or how to stop it.

(Shitty helps him a lot with this by studying with him in either of their rooms and letting him experiment with unmasking and what unmasking actually looks like for Eric.)

(its a fun journey and he discovers that he actually stims quite a lot)

Eric is also one of those nd people who actually thrive listening to loud music

It helps him focus and he can't study without it

It also allows him to take a break from stimming which helps with doing assignment because more often than not his stims involve his hands (and you can't really write an assignment when you keep snapping your fingers and rotating your wrists in all possible directions)

Speaking of assignments

Executive dysfunction

There it is

The Big Bad gateway to self hatred and bad work ethics

Finishing assignments actually became such a struggle after his freshmen year that Eric decided to try meds again

Luckily for him, this time the side effects were much milder and they actually worked quite well for him

(The first day he took Adderal Ransom and Holster walked in on him crying while cleaning his room. It wasn't sad crying. It was oh-my-god-I-finished-my-assignment-baked-three-pies-AND-I-am-now-cleaning-my-room-I-have-never-been-this-productive-in-my-life-someone-hug-me type of crying)

Of course, the meds don't solve his problems, but they do help his overall regulation of his emotions and, for the most part, helps him keep deadlines

Now, he's still a very emotional person but at least now he doesn't have a burnout once every week

And his Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria is still thriving as always

(his first year was really tough because of this. Jack meant well but it was a lot for Eric)

His hyperfixations include baking (obviously), Beyonce (also obviously), figure skating (he still keeps up with his favorites) and, funnily enough, history (His thesis was picked very carefully)

As mentioned before, Eric enjoys loud music and he's fairly okay with sounds (he thrives in the locker room and on the ice, as well as in the Haus where its never quiet), but textures both in food and fabrics are a Big Deal to him

Velvet blankets? Get that cursed witchcraft away from him

Mushrooms? He can and will spit them out

Chalk? Absolutely the fuck not

However, he's weirdly okay with touching styrofoam? And doesn't hate the sound of it rubbing together?

He likes it a lot when Chowder comes around

Chowder, his sweet handsome son, has absolutely raging ADHD, to the point where taking his daily meds is absolutely essential

Eric doesn't really have that problem, he can skip a day or two and still be fairly functioning

Chowder however-

Lets just say that him moving into the Haus was a very good thing because of supervision and people reminding him to take his meds

They bond a lot over their shared struggles, and Eric helps Chowder navigate school and hockey at the same time

This is getting off track, I can talk about ADHD!Chowder all day long

anyway

Shitty was the first person Eric told

The next day Shitty got him a stim toy and a t-shirt that had a picture of Raven from that's so Raven and text at the bottom that said "that's so ADHD"

Eric still wears it to sleep

The rest of the team reacted exactly the way Shitty told him they would, totally accepting

A few days after he told them Shitty came into his room with Jack in tow and smiled so wide while Jack said he was autistic himself so if Eric needed it he could borrow Jack's weighted blanket

After that day their relationship started to look like a friendship

And later when they finally began dating Eric got really good at revising his recipes while lying on top of Jack when he was having sensory overload, and Jack got really good at letting Eric stim with his fingers when he forgot his fidget cube

Okay I'm gonna stop

But I might add to it later

Please add something yourself if you want to!

Thanks for reading!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 295: So How Are You Holding Up (Because I’m a Potato)

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi randomly and graciously decided to answer all of our long-standing questions about Mr. Compress, including “is he secretly hot,” “is he secretly related to that Robin Hood thief guy,” and “is he ever going to use his quirk to chain chomp a hole right through his ass??” with the answer to all three being “yes, of course.” As for our follow-up questions, “sir, is Mr. Compress going to die,” and “holy shit,” his answers were, respectively, “wait and see,” and, “I understand, really I do, but that isn’t actually a question.” Well, he’s got us there.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi finally ends the War arc with the speed and grace of an overworked college student scrambling to BS their entire midterm essay with five minutes left before the deadline. Deku’s Spidey Sense is all “what up, I exist, p.s. you’re in danger kid” like oh shit, no, you think?? Compress is all “I’m not gonna die but I am going to pass out and be captured” and honestly, at this point I’ll take it. Spinner is all “Tomura you can have this one last Souvenir Hand I found that was in the oven for too long” and slaps it on his face because HE’S JUST TRYING TO BE HELPFUL, SHUT UP. Dabi is all, “[currently in a marble].”Tomura is all “actually, I’m AFO.” AFO is all “hahahahaha” and summons all of the remaining Noumus to cart him and Spinner and Dabi off to safety. Deku is all “DAMMIT TOMURA I’M REALLY MAD AT YOU FOR KILLING, AND I QUOTE, ‘AN UNBELIEVABLE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE’, BUT AT THE SAME TIME, GET THIS, I TOTALLY WANT TO SAVE YOU TOO! LMAO ISN’T THAT WILD.” Fandom is all “OH MY GOD, NO WAY, is what we would say if we had literally never met Deku before, I guess.” And then the arc just ends, lol. See you in the new year, kids.

WAKE UP, LINK... I MEAN, DEKU

jesus christ Vestiges, not a one of you guys has got any chill at ALL. LISTEN TO ME. THIS CHILD IS DEAD. HE IS DECEASED. LOOK AT HIM. HE’S LYING THERE ALL DAZED WITH HIS ARMS AND LEGS TURNED INTO GREEN PUDDING AND YOU’RE ALL “GET UP LAZYBONES” LIKE I SWEAR TO GOD. CAN HE JUST REST?? CAN YOU ALL JUST CALL IT A DRAW WITH THE VILLAINS ALREADY SO WE CAN FINALLY END THIS TRAUMATIC ARC AND MOVE ON TO THE NEW “TRIAGE AND ROBOT LIMBS FOR EVERYBODY” ARC INSTEAD

LIE BACK DOWN YOU IDIOT!!

no you didn’t pass out because of a ~heatwave~, you passed out because he set you on fire while you were out here shooting Blackwhip out of your mouth with your SPINDLY ACCORDION LIMBS dangling uselessly from you like WINDCHIMES you RIDICULOUS BOY

“where’s Todoroki-kun” oh shiiiiiiit. right. god I hope someone caught him. BAKUGOU OWES HIM A FAVOR, HOW ‘BOUT IT

OH NEVER MIND HE APPARENTLY CAUGHT HIMSELF??

Todoroki Shouto has really highkey been the MVP of the entire fourth quarter of this arc. he deserves the world, and odds are all Horikoshi’s going to give him are lasting trauma, and a souvenir shirt that says “I survived this stupid arc and all I got was this t-shirt”

anyway now Deku’s being hit by a Lightning Bolt of Realization or some such? idk what’s going on, but I bet you it’s related to Tomura waking up again

OH SHIT??

LOL WHAT. THAT’S IT?? SPIDEY-SENSE?? I mean we all predicted Spidey-Sense being one of his quirks like ages ago, so Well Done, Us, I guess

but also, seriously?? all of that drama and intrigue about the fourth user’s quirk and this is what we end up with? what was All Might being so cagey about then? how did this dude die? I need answers goddammit. new, better answers lol

maybe it’s something to do with the fact that Deku keeps talking about how his head hurts?

I mean, for Deku of all people to be all “ouch that hurts”, it must really fucking hurt, you know? like oh my god Deku are you dying

lmao and SPEAKING OF PEOPLE WHO APPARENTLY DON’T FEEL PAIN

this man is out here FROLICKING, half-naked and half-torsoed, AND STILL FEVERISHLY RATTLING OFF HIS MONOLGOUE. YOU HAVEN’T EVEN ESCAPED YET YOU DINGUS. did watching Dabi pour bleach over his head inspire you to think of interesting new ways you could abuse your own body for the sake of Theatrics?? why are villains Like This

anyway so now Mirio’s punching him, because what else are you even supposed to do in this situation

I read this speech bubble three times in a row very carefully this time around just to make sure I was reading the words right. and then looked for a T/L note below. and there was none. whatever RHA, at least you all are out here enjoying yourselves

wait what?

I guess he hasn’t woken up yet after all?? so then wtf is Deku’s Spidey Sense getting all worked up about. I mean to be fair there’s danger all around them still so having a Spidey Sense in this kind of situation is kind of like bringing a smoke alarm to a BBQ

now what

wait did he put them back in the marble?? or is that panel just meant to show us how they were in the marble earlier?? Horikoshi please make this less confusing, I’m already having trouble staying focused as it is. and on top of everything else Compress is cascading blood like Niagara Falls right now and I’m starting to wonder if you really are going to kill him off

anyway so Mirio is still in mid-punch, and now he’s reaching out to punch Spinner with his other hand. heh. Mirio please be careful Tomura is right there, and I swear to god Horikoshi IF HE LAYS A HAND ON HIS SWIRLY BLOND HEAD SO HELP ME I WILL MAIL YOU A VIAL OF MY TEARS

okay seriously what the hell is happening

when you attach?? everyone?? to your body?? whose body?? who is this??

oh wait okay it’s a flashback to Tomura talking about his Hands

lmao this is so disjointed, I can’t tell what’s a flashback and what isn’t and whose thoughts these are lmao I give up. I’m just going to fire up a bunch of question marks until this starts making some goddamn sense. ???????

??????

????????

-- !!!!!!!!!!!

okay hold up. so did Spinner just slap Tomura’s last remaining Signature Fashion Hand onto his face just now for absolutely no reason?? is that what’s going on?? and fuck me but it actually worked too, lmao. is your buddy unconscious and unresponsive to stimuli?? no problem, just slap ‘em in the face with a burnt and shriveled severed hand. works every time

p.s. I SWEAR TO GOD HORIKOSHI. IF YOU TOUCH MIRIO!!! HE’S A GOOD BOY LEAVE HIM ALONE

??????????

OKAY WELL. I STILL HAVE NO IDEA WTF IS HAPPENING, BUT AT LEAST MIRIO’S NOT DEAD. KACCHAN GOT BLOWN AWAY THOUGH SOB. HOW IRONIC THAT THE GOD OF EXPLOSION MURDERS WOULD BE MURDERED BY AN EXPLOSION WHILE I WAS BUSY SAYING “OH MY GOD”

ohhhhhh, okay. so this is AFO’s narration

and that’s a partial answer to the question of “why did AFO bother raising Tomura up as his heir if he was planning on taking over his body the whole time.” apparently it makes it easier to control him. joy :’)

also this image of a potato wearing a Tomura wig is sending me fjkllkhl

oh my god he summoned all the Noumu to him like Aquaman and his sea creatures. this whole situation just keeps on getting better

-- oh hell no. oh fuck me, fucking shit

SHIT SHIT SHIT. I’M SORRY SPINNER, TOMURA CAN’T COME TO THE PHONE RIGHT NOW

oh my god. I fucking hate everything right now oh my god

I GUESS WE FIGURED OUT WHAT DEKU’S SPIDEY SENSE WAS WARNING HIM ABOUT, THEN ಠ_ಠ

fucking great!! so I guess nobody is getting a happy ending today, then. the heroes got their asses handed to them (sorry Compress, it’s a figure of speech, didn’t mean to be disrespectful); Deku and Kacchan died; Shouto’s evil brother came back from the dead to ruin his life; everyone and their dog lost various limbs; and the villains have now lost Twice (dead), Compress and Machia (presumably going to be captured), and now their fearless leader’s body has been completely taken over by AFO, which is such an unsexy development that it managed to completely undo all of the Mr. Compress Sexiness from last week. goddamn it

DAMN IT HORIKOSHI ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO END IT LIKE THIS

up close Hadou’s face is looking pretty rough. :/ that’s going to scar over isn’t it. at least she’ll look like a badass

meanwhile I appreciate that Horikoshi drew what looks to be a little puff of air next to Kacchan’s mouth, just to reassure us all that he’s not actually dead. that’s fine. you just lie there then. also his wound really is in the exact same place as All Might’s and it’s giving me all kinds of feels you guys but whatever I’m not gonna sit here dwelling on it all day

AND POOR SHOUTO. IS HE STILL CRYING OMG. AND ENDEAVOR, WAY TO DO NOTHING STILL. THE ALL TIME CHAMP OF SITTING AROUND AND STARING, GOOD FOR YOU

ARE YOU FOR REAL, ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW

(－‸ლ)

lol

“peace out, loser.” “SHUT YOUR TRAP, HO.” quality encounter right here

anyway so he’s blasting Deku with something and Deku’s just flying back all unconscious-like. so then, what even was the point of all that, huh

oh I see, it was to lead us into one last Deku monologue to close this arc out

oh my god Deku if you say you’re going to save him I will turn around and do a cannonball into a ballpit of feels right now, don’t do this to me

OH SNAP I THINK HE’S GONNA THOUGH

DID HE LOOK LIKE HE NEEDED SAVING?? I MUST CONFESS YOU AND I ARE OF A MIND HERE, YOUNG BROCCOLI. YES IN SPITE OF ALL THE MURDERS. WHAT CAN I SAY IT’S COMPLICATED

by the way I just have to point out here, that after all of those impossibly pretty close-ups of Hawks’s unconscious face, Horikoshi really did my child dirty here lmao

he looks like a squished cockroach. THAT’S MY BABY BOY

and it looks like the cavalry is finally on its way too! took them long enough. so I guess they can take care of any of the remaining Noumu stragglers, but first let Deku finish his speech. listen up Deku I really need you to say something cool and iconic to cap off this thus-far admittedly underwhelming Last Chapter Of The Year, here

AHHHHHHH YES HE REALLY DID IT HE SAID THE THING

well he thought the thing, anyway. close enough. I’ll take it!

so this is really the end of the arc then! or at least I hope, good lord. anyways, all right then so let’s do a quick status check:

it looks like the Noumu are hauling Tomura and Spinner away to safety, but it doesn’t look like they managed to save Machia or Compress. this honestly might be in Compress’s best interests though. the heroes can get him some medical help along with Kacchan and Endeavor and everyone else

Dabi is apparently hidden inside Spinner’s scarf, but do they have any way of releasing him without Compress there to undo the quirk? will he be all right in there. like how is he going to get food and water and air and stuff lol. does it wear off after a bit? can Compress undo it when he wakes up, even if he’s in custody? is there a distance limit on it?

and Skeptic was presumably turned into a marble as well, but Compress didn’t bother mentioning him at all. nobody cares about poor Skeptic lol

and bonus AFO theories status check:

Dad for One - AFO called Deku worthless and hasn’t seemed to take the least bit of interest in him despite getting to see his fancy SIXQUIRKS up close and personal. so if he is his dad he sure as heck is a terrible one, that’s all I can say

All for One for All/Deku is a horcrux - well the Spidey Sense seems to offer an alternative explanation to why Deku could sense AFO’s presence, but on the other hand it doesn’t explain why AFO was able to sense Deku’s as well (seeing his dreams and such). still thinking there’s a connection there, guys, idk

AFO is the final villain - five words for you: “EVERYTHING IS FOR MY SAKE.” is that concrete enough yet lol. pretty sure this arc marked both the beginning and end of Tomura’s brief stint as the Big Bad. Deku’s got it in his mind to save him now somehow, and we all know what happens when Deku starts getting determined to save people. look out AFO

as for the heroes, they’re all varying degrees of Fucked and I think it’s honestly too much to even take stock of at this point. maybe if I get a rush of hyperfixation in the next couple days or so I’ll do a separate post analyzing the impact of this arc and where things currently stand and where they might be headed from here

but in the meantime, ngl, this chapter was kind of a hot mess lmao. but whatever, I don’t even care because at least he managed to get all of it done within the allotted 17 pages, meaning that next week (or rather two weeks from now, sob) we really can get moving onto the aforementioned Triage arc! BRING ON THAT ANGST. I am so fucking hyped goddammit

[luke-o-lophus]

Gonna rant here because i need to let this out somewhere and i do not have the option of a meltdown IRL now.

I hate to have to say this but I have grown distant from my mother. She was the parent who didnt abuse me. She did slap me a few times or smth but that's common in our culture. And she often...nitpicked things I did because she'd be angry/frustrated with something else (rightfully so) and take that out on me..mainly by shouting. She also...failed to pull herself and me out of my father's persistent abuse, and I had to talk, support and convince her to file for a divorce for years. I've had to physically get in the way to save her from father, as well as play his psychological games in her lieu because she was lost and disturbed. And she refuses to get any therapy, convinced and proud that she'd mentally strong enough. I have tried, begged, discussed in great depth and with a variety of emotions . Now I have officially given up and said she can reach out to me if she ever feels she needs help getting therapy, but I am done trying to convince her. Often when I talk to her she steers the conversations to triggering memories and I understand she wants to talk about them but I just cant. It gets too much. I cant remember much of me going to her for advice, it's somehow been more of the opposite? I was always telling her how to deal with father, and at a point i just took over and did the shit? Called the police, locked the doors, called the neighbors, took the beatings, and like, so much more.

And now I am SO bitter.

I know she deserves care, but I am so SO tired. Also I am so busy with work (working on a thesis) and I have a HUGE crapton of personal craploads I have to deal with. I have very recently started setting boundaries and suffice to say, not going well.

She can't understand why I am acting this way when I ask her not to surprise me and hug me from behind. I KNOW it's supposed to be a sweet surprise but my body goes into fucking panic overdrive. I am done listening to every mark, bulge and freckle in my body being pointed out. And I am so tired of hiding my queerness, not to mention my sensory issues. She just breached this tense convo, dropped it halfway, and now i am stuck typing furiously on tumblr when i have a deadline TODAY and another in 3 days. On separate projects. And I have to accompany her for shopping in an hr and I KNOW she's buying stuff for me but lord, I don't want it. I don't. I am so exhausted and my head is pounding and it's only 10 in the morning.

[chaoticpanenergy]

Hi Peregrin!! I hope u have an amazing day filled with fun and exciting things!!!

I have some fun questions for u XD

1. What is ur favourite book?

2. Do u have a favourite plant? If so, what is it?

3. What are ur favourite animals?

!!! hi virgil!!!! :D i slept in and skipped my lab this morning <3 (it's okay i double checked that it won't affect my grade first) and my evening class just got canceled (AND the deadline for an assignment for that class got extended bc of it) so i am having a Fantastic time lol

HEY THATS TOO HARD TO CHOOOOOSE AAAAA i was one of those kids whose main personality trait was Always Has A Book In Their Hands growing up lol. and i was a very fast reader. so i have a lot of favorites. but to choose just a few: lord of the rings is definitely always way way up there, tolkien's work was my SpIn for most of my teen years. also madly in love with the six of crows duology (although it has been Too Long since i had an opportunity to reread them). and then there's this pair of books that go together called fly-by-night and flytrap, by frances hardinge, and those were some of my most very favorites in high school and i still really love them. they instilled in me my Frightened Respect Of Geese, my love for Conmen Who Secretly Have A Heart Of Gold But Wish They Didn't characters, my love for Morally Gray Violent Clever And Angry Little Girl main characters, and my adoration for fantasy worldbuilding. 10/10. in general i fucking adore fantasy and anything that will totally absorb me and make me forget that i am a real human person while im reading it lol.

oooooo!!! i actually love tomato plants. because they are easy to grow, they make yummy yummy food to eat (have you ever picked a cherry tomato and eaten it right off the vine still all warm from the sun??? 10/10 experience, absolute bliss right there), and the plants themselves smell AMAZING. tomato vines are one of my favorite scents ever. (i don't like most scents, so this is not a super competitive list, but they just smell so good okay.)

!!!! okay SO!!!! i love cats a lot, i had a bit of a SpIn in them as a kid (but since i was not allowed to have one, this took the form of buying an encyclopedia on cat breeds + cat care and reading it cover to cover multiple times). i also really like snakes (for sanders sides reasons and also for Gender Vibes reasons), rats (also for Gender Vibes reasons), dolphins (they are so smart and cool!!!!! and their like stereotypical "personality" matches me really well!!!! and my major has them as our mascot for some reason??? not my college, just my major. i don't think most majors have mascots, but i guess mine does lol. the head of the department addresses her emails to students as "hi pod!" like we are a pod of dolphins. i have a lil dolphin plushy from an event the department hosted. i liked dolphins before starting college, but this is a fun coincidence), and elephants (DID YOU KNOW ELEPHANTS HAVE MIDWIVES???? if an elephant is giving birth, there's a specific elephant in the herd whose job is to help out, and if the birthing elephant is separated from the midwife (like some zoos used to do 😬), the whole herd will freak out and try really hard to get the midwife to the birthing elephant!!!! also elephant pregnancies last almost 2 years!!!! can you tell i like elephants because of my SpIn in pregnancy + childbirth + midwifery lol)

hehehe ty for fun questions, i wanna hear all ur answers to these too if u wanna share!! i hope ur day is going fantastic too <33

[florenceandthemachine]

hear your heartbeat

happy birthday to the incomparable @elisela!!! just for you, please enjoy a good fake-dating au with plenty of idiotic and family members abound.

12.5k - on Ao3

—————

“I’m telling you, Scotty. New York has been good to me. Maybe we should just renounce California and stay here for the summer.”

“Don’t joke about that, dude.”

Stiles laughed as he shouldered his phone, taking in the city air as he strolled along the streets of Manhattan.

Needless to say, Manhattan was far from home—while the city certainly was his vibe, Stiles was no stranger to tamping down the champagne tastes that clashed with his tapwater budget. The little shitbox apartment he got through NYU’s housing program was almost a thirty minute train ride from school, but Stiles figured that when he was more or less trapped on campus for nearly fifty hours a week, he could justify spending his breaks wandering the streets of Manhattan and really taking in the city.

On today’s agenda, Stiles was looking forward to wandering around a farmers market that literally stretched on for city blocks. There were fruits and vegetables literally as far as the eye could see, spices and roots and mysterious tubers of all shapes and size, but Stiles didn’t give a flying fuck about the food—his real interest were the vendors and the shoppers.

He had learned early on that open air markets like this were perfect meeting grounds for mythical beasts of all shapes and sizes, so, what better palace for him to do some… field work, so to speak?

There were nymphs who had full bouquets of beautiful flowers that lived suspiciously long in their vases as long as you complimented the blooms on a regular basis. Dryads who sold the most delicious fruit he had ever tasted, even if they charged six bucks for a pear.

Stiles had learned early on to avoid the fae—basically, any stand that sold crystal or metalcraft. His first time at the market, he had somehow wound up spending nearly four hundred dollars on quartz; the moment the money had left his hand, the stall had all but vanished in front of him.

“The people are good here. They’re fast. Blunt. Sarcastic. My kind of people.”

“Uh huh.”

Scott liked to call their whole situation lucky.

When Stiles applied to NYU’s doctorate program, he expected rounds and rounds of interviews, lists of deadlines he needed to memorize, and some less-than-subtle digs at his proposed field of study (which was fair, honestly—he knew that criminology and mythology rarely mixed).

What he didn’t expect was Scott, though, the bro of all bros. When Stiles told him he was applying to NYU, Scott had cheered him on, helped him prepare, and then immediately applied to different veterinary positions through the state.

(Scott was golden, obviously—he had years of training, letters of recommendation from everyone he had ever met, and him being a werewolf basically made him the animal whisperer.)

At the end of the day, Stiles got to pursue his passion thanks to a hodgepodge of grants at NYU, and Scott was awarded a fellowship in veterinary medicine through the Bronx Zoo. What kind of weird twist of luck would let the best friends wind up together across the country like that?

So, yeah, Scott called it luck.

Stiles called it karmic retribution for their supremely fucked-up years at Beacon Hills High, but even he could admit that ‘luck’ sounded nicer... and if Stiles was being honest, ‘luck’ was definitely the best way to classify his meeting Derek Hale.

Derek Hale was smart, he was sarcastic, and he could go toe-to-toe with Stiles over completely obscure things for literal hours. He was a first-year professor at NYU, who had the tiny office right next to the broom closet Stiles had managed to shove PHD desk into, and he was probably the only other person in the program that took mythology seriously (meaning he was the only person who didn’t make Stiles want to put his head through the wall).

He was also hot as fuck, but that was beside the point. Stiles had a little bit of a massive crush, but that was also beside the point.

They had built up a fast friendship based on a series of arguments about the Necronomicon, of all things, and Stiles loved the thought of being friends with someone who didn’t know him as the weird kid in high school who knew way too much about ritual sacrifice and circumcision.

He had evened out a lot through undergrad. He was still awkward, sure, but he was awkward with a refillable prescription for Adderall and some sort of brain-to-mouth filter.

(Honestly, the fact that Stiles had managed to avoid making a single joke about the werewolf who was stuck teaching Mythology 101 really did speak volumes to his newfound maturity.)

Speaking of Derek, though…

“Stiles! Hey, Stiles!”

Stiles almost jumped a foot in the air as he heard his name called, doing a spectacular near-drop-mid-air-catch of his phone as he regained his footing, turning on the spot to see a taller woman with jet black hair waving him over.

She was… okay, she was gorgeous—dark hair, smooth skin, someone who looked like she just stepped out of one of the windows on Fifth Avenue—but Stiles was decently distracted, because standing beside her was Derek Hale, the object of his extremely private affection for the past few months. Who, for whatever reason, was standing there looking like he wanted the sidewalk to open up and swallow him whole.

“Scotty, I’ll see you tonight, yeah? I gotta go.”

Stiles pocketed his phone as he cautiously made his way over to the pair—trio, he corrected, because there was another woman with them, looking incredibly more invested in the conversation now that another party was joining them.

He hiked his canvas a bit higher up as he smiled, trying to remember where he had seen the two before… students, maybe, but if that were the case, they would know Derek, not Stiles. They weren’t faculty members, he was sure of that. Donors to the program, maybe?

Well, if they were donors, Stiles sincerely hoped that Derek would have tried harder to wear literally any expression other than his current ‘bitter and miserable’.

And if they were donors, why were they so fucking happy to see him?

“I’m Laura. This is Cora.”

The taller of the two women extended her hand confidently as Stiles got within arms reach, and he instinctively reached out to take it, Cora following suit. “Derek has told us all about you. I have to say, I figured there was at least a ten percent chance you were made up, but… here you are!”

“Here I am!” Stiles was officially lost, but he kept his smile up, cheeks pinking up a little bit as he turned back to Derek. “You’ve been talking about me?” he asked, his voice on the line between flattered and teasing, nudging Derek playfully as he tilted his head.

“Stiles, I—“

“Of course he has! Derek’s a private guy, sure, but you can’t be surprised he told us about his new—“

“Laura—”

“Lord, Derek, calm down. You already had your big bisexual awakening, I’m allowed to be excited to meet your first boyfriend.” Laura shot back, her glare rivaling Derek’s absolute best ‘listen to teacher’ look, and Stiles could see the muscle in his jaw start to twitch. He probably would have done something, but… he was basically short circuiting, brain trying to keep up with whatever the fuck Laura had said, because Derek now had his arm around Stiles’ waist.

Derek had a big bisexual awakening?

And a boyfriend, apparently?

How had Stiles missed that??

“Stiles, these are my sisters, Laura and Cora Hale.”

Okay, great, they were Derek’s sisters. Stiles didn’t even know that Derek had sisters, which was a little sad if he thought about it.

Thankfully, he didn’t have long to think about it, because Derek—

“This is Stiles, my… my boyfriend. Now stop bombarding him. Give him half a fucking second before you go a thousand miles an hour.”

Oh—oh God. Stiles was the boyfriend.

He had seriously missed something, then—he didn’t think he had confessed his feelings for Derek anytime recently, or he probably would have died from embarrassment. Scott was really good at hiding his phone when he was drinking, which ruled that entire scenario out. Stiles could be forgetful at times, sure, but he thought he would remember if he had managed to score himself a boyfriend.

He looked up at Derek, trying to ignore the sudden burn of contact where their bodies were pressed together, but his brain was extremely focused the moment that he caught the look on Derek’s face, there and gone in a flash. He felt the hand squeeze at his waist, and the message was clear enough.

Please.

Ah, well. Stiles was always good at bullshitting, and this was no exception.

“No, no, Der, it’s fine! It’s good to meet you both, sorry, I wasn’t even expecting to see Derek until… uh, later, let alone meet anyone new,” Stiles said, his voice 100% betraying his nerves as it picked up an octave.

Laura’s voice was much more evenly toned, even if it was a little teasing. “Oh? You two have big plans tonight? We aren’t interrupting anything, are we?” she said with a grin, giving the distinct impression that even if they were interrupting, she and her sister wouldn’t be leaving until they were good and ready. Stiles felt his mind kick into overdrive, waving the question aside.

“Oh, nothing like that. We were going to meet up with my friend Scott for dinner, introducing the boyfriend to the best friend, you know how it is,” he continued, hoping his little chuckle wasn’t too terribly fake as he reached up to pat the lapels of Derek’s jacket, letting his fingers linger a little too long on Derek’s chest as he nodded.

He hoped that she knew how it was. Hell, Stiles didn’t even know how it was. He hadn’t exactly been rolling in romance since moving across the country.

“Well, if you say so,” Laura mused, raising a perfect brow, head tilted to the side. “You look like you’re about to pass out, Stiles. You alright?”

And, okay, Stiles knew enough to know what that meant. It meant that her super-sonic ears could hear his heart trying to break through his ribs with a staccato beat, typically a tell-tale sign that someone was lying, but… maybe he could work that to his advantage. He swallowed, voice a little tight as he laughed, waving the concern away.

“Sorry, I just wasn't… planning on meeting the family today,” Stiles said, probably the most truthful thing he had ever said. “Usually I’d try to prepare a little more, you know, make sure I’m wearing something nice and avoid putting my entire foot in my mouth. Maybe just a toe or two,” he said, relaxing minutely as Cora snorted from her position near Laura’s elbow.

Okay, so self depreciation was a good way to avoid suspicion with all the Hales. Got it.

“Well, if you both have plans, I’ll make this quick,” Laura said, her voice deceptively charming as she sidled up next to Stiles, though he certainly wasn’t going to complain about the way Derek’s hand tightened around his waist. “The semester is up soon, what are your plans this summer? Never mind, move them back. We’re having a family reunion the week after finals, and everyone is dying to meet baby brother Derek’s new boo after all the stories he’s told.”

…stories?

He looked up to Derek again, who was now blushing up to the tips of his ears, which—okay, cute—but which told him absolutely nothing and offered him exactly zero defense.

“Actually, I already have a flight booked as soon as my spring contract is up. Heading back to Beacon Hills for a few days, and—“

“Wait, did Derek already invite you?” Laura asked, her expression pleasantly surprised, and Stiles was speechless for a half second before Derek stepped in.

“No, I didn’t invite him because I’m not even going, Laura. Besides, he has his own plans with his own family,” he said, and Stiles blinked as he tried to keep up. “And what do you mean, they’re excited to meet him? I was very clear that the further I can keep him away from you and Mom, the better.”

Laura only rose a brow as she turned back to Cora, who took a beat before looking up from her phone, her expression halfway guilty as she clutched the device. “I uh—I may have just sent a picture of you two to the family group chat.”

Stiles choked on a laugh as Derek gasped—actually gasped—and pulled his phone from his pocket, making the mistake of releasing Stiles’ shoulder to unlock the device, looking absolutely scandalized as he glared at Cora.

It wasn’t long before Stiles had a similar look on his face, though, as Laura took advantage of his free arm, linking her own with his as she started to walk. “Alright, Stiles, here’s the deal.”

“Cora, you little—hey! Laura, get back here with my boyfriend!”

“Calm down little brother, the adults are talking.”

“He’s younger than I am!”

“So, Stiles, like I was saying,” Laura started, oblivious or ignorant to the way Stiles' mind had absolutely reeled when Derek had called him his boyfriend for the second time. “Derek hasn’t been home for more than a day visit since he moved out to this dump, and no one has raised a stink about it in years. This year, though, is… important,” she started, and Stiles nodded idly as he mentally ran through the calendar in his head.

The semester was over in just over a week, with finals crammed into three days after that, and then—oh, the full moon.

No, Stiles corrected himself, the blue moon. The first blue moon in May in probably… thirty years, if he had to guess. He nodded up to Laura as that clicked into place, a flicker of curiosity crossing over her face as she continued talking.

“We won’t take up that much of your time—it’s only like two events, I promise, and I also promise Derek will personally take care of whatever flight changes you have to make so you can still get some time with your family. After all, it’s not your fault my bonehead brother tried to exclude you until now.”

“I’m not a bonehead!” Derek said, his tone of voice just exasperated enough that Stiles sighed, carefully extracting himself from Laura’s grasp as they slowed to a stop near the curb of Fifth Avenue, the noise from the farmers market blending in with the sound of traffic as he turned back to Derek.

“Alright, hang on, hold up,” Stiles started, his tone firm enough to stop the three wolves in their tracks, Derek and Laura wearing matching expressions of surprise as they stopped in their tracks—even Cora was peeking over her phone, clearly interested, and Stiles couldn’t blame them. It had probably been a long time since either of them had been stopped by a human.

“Laura, Derek is not a bonehead. He’s smart, and he’s sweet, and he’s very kind, and it’s okay that he’s a little more private. Yeah, he’s also a stubborn asshole, but… well, that’s one of the reasons I like him so much,” Stiles said, the first genuine smile in the entire conversation gracing his face as he looked at Derek again. “But you know your brother. Did you really think that catching him off guard across the country in person was going to be the best way to convince him to visit?”

He was fine taking their silence as an answer, honestly.

“Now, Derek, that being said, I… if you are comfortable with it, I can rearrange my plans and come down with you. If you’re not comfortable with that, that’s okay too. Meeting the family—at least, the rest of the family—is a very big step,” he continued, his words very pointed.

(Yes, Derek, meeting the family would be a very big step for someone you weren’t even dating, please pick up on the subliminal messaging here.)

“But even if you’re not comfortable with me being there, I think you should still go down. I’ll get to spend plenty of time with my dad, you shouldn’t have to be all alone up here while I’m gone.”

Moving to smooth over the lapels on Derek’s jacket again, Stiles only barely tampered down a noise of surprise as Derek intercepted his hands, pleasantly shocked by how easily Derek’s warm, smooth fingers slipped between his own lanky digits.

Stiles felt his cheeks pinks up as he cleared his throat, doing his best to act normal, because he was… well, he wasn’t lying. He had absolutely thought about Derek being alone here in New York while Stiles was gone, but that was more in the sense that Stiles would miss him.

He just didn’t know that Derek might be missing some family, too.

Besides, he may not have known that much about the intricacies of a normal, family pack, but Stiles knew enough to know that a big event like this would probably be good for Derek, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Even if Derek was going to reject his offer and go down alone.

…because Derek was going to reject him.

Derek was going to reject him, right?

Stiles had been fairly sure of that when he offered, but judging by the way Derek couldn’t meet his eyes after something as simple as holding hands, Stiles might have just fucked himself over. Derek opened and closed his mouth twice before he finally let out a huff of air and looked up, doing a remarkably good impression of a guilty animal as he looked at Stiles.

“…you’re sure you don’t mind?”

Fuck.

“Derek, I wouldn’t have offered if I minded,” Stiles said, and that much was at least true—but before he could say anything else, Laura was squealing in his ear, wrapping both of them up in a hug so tight Stiles almost had to remind her that he was human, but he was able to breathe again as the car next to the curb chirped.

“Thank God, Stiles, thank you for getting through to him! Oh, Nana is gonna flip out when she hears who’s coming—Derek, you know you’ve always been her favorite—Stiles, do you have any dietary restrictions? Derek, send me his number, and—no, Cora, you are not driving us back to the airport, move your ass—“

Stiles looked up to Derek, his expression somewhere between bemused and fearful as Laura rambled on, but… well, the apologetic look that Derek had on his face wasn’t much reassurance.

“—and Stiles, you’re going to love Beacon Hills. Bye boys! See you in two weeks!”

Stiles was left, partially shellshocked as Derek’s hand slipped from his own, the need for the facade no longer essential as the shiny silver rental car pulled into traffic.

“… Derek, since when the fuck are you from Beacon Hills?”

—————

“Scotty, stop laughing, this isn’t funny.”

“Dude, are you kidding me? This is hilarious.”

Stiles groaned as he shoved another slice of pizza into his mouth, ignoring the burning sensation that spread across his tongue as he tried to pack as much melted cheese as he could into one bite.

Scott’s apartment had been their go-to for the entire time he and Stiles had been in the city—not because it was huge and glamorous, not by any means, but Scott’s shoebox had a door between the bathroom and the living room, and therefore it was the best place for bro-time by default.

Stiles had loudly complained about the entire situation when he and Derek showed up on Scott’s stoop, firmly planting himself in his favorite of Scott’s chairs—the ‘old man’ recliner next to Scott’s little television, the game on screen forgotten as he recalled their harrowed tale.

“Stiles, if you weren’t comfortable with it, why even… okay, no, don’t you dare answer me until you swallow,” Derek snapped, and Stiles rolled his eyes as he swallowed a few times, sticking his tongue out at Derek once his mouth was empty.

“Good. Thank you for pretending to be an adult. Now, why did you even offer if it wasn’t something you were comfortable with.”

Because it was supposed to just be a gesture, Derek. Because I didn’t realize you would take it as a serious offer, Derek. Because you were supposed to say no, Derek.

… because I didn’t want you to be alone, Derek.

Honestly, as surprised as Stiles was that Derek took him up on his poorly-timed moment of goodness, he was even more surprised that after Laura drove off, when he numbly asked if Derek wanted to come over to Scott’s for some pizza, Derek actually said yes.

Derek Hale was being social. Alert the media.

(Well… maybe ‘social’ was stretching it a bit—Stiles didn’t know if it was a territory thing or what, but Derek had turned hilariously, awkwardly stiff the moment he stepped inside Scott’s apartment.)

“I offered because I’m nice, dick, but don’t even think that you can turn this on me. Derek, they knew my name. They knew what I looked like. And yeah, I mean, I’m a complete catch and all—oh fuck off, Scotty—but what in the actual, literal fuck?”

Stiles didn’t think it was possible, but somehow Derek got even more tense, shoulders tightening up toward his ears as he looked down. It took a moment before he answered, but Stiles knew by then that Derek usually had to… wind himself up to talk about some things.

“My mother lives on the opposite end of the country, and even then, she still managed to set up twenty four blind dates for me last year. Twenty four, Stiles. That’s basically one every other week. Do you have any idea how much small talk that is? And how much I hate small talk?”

Yes, Stiles thought, to both of those questions. He would never admit this out loud, of course, but thinking about one of the most intensely private people that he knew stuck at some shitty little coffee shop trying to chat with some random female on behalf of his mother was hilarious to a degree he couldn’t fathom.

It definitely wasn’t a redirection of his own… personal feelings that may or may not be directed at Derek. Not at all. Nope.

“So, around the time the spring semester started, when my mother let slide that she had passed along my number to yet another perfectly eligible barista, or something, I panicked and told her I had a boyfriend. And then she asked for a photo, and the most recent one on my phone was that selfie you sent miming your own death in the stacks, so…”

“Oh fuck, Derek,” Stiles started, downing the last of his beer. “Your big bisexual awakening wasn’t just you trying to get out of your mom setting you up on dates, right?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, ass,” Derek said, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. “The two events were completely separate.”

Stiles laughed at the thought, but even then, his mind was reeling. If this wasn’t a recent discovery, how in the fuck did Stiles miss that for so long?

“Well, you’re lucky Scotty and I had a flight booked anyway. I won’t let you face them alone, not when you have a picture perfect boyfriend to show off now—what role should I take on? Doting, love struck fool? Rebel without a care? Some sad forlorn loser who… okay, no, that one is too close to home.”

Scott stood up and laughed as Derek glared at Stiles again, but it didn’t take a genius to see the tiny smile on his face, or the way his shoulders eased as he leaned back into the couch.

“Alright, this is getting too intense a conversation while the game is on. Want another beer, Stiles? You, Derek?”

Stiles made a vaguely affirming noise as he wove his hand in Scott’s direction, eyes drawn back to Derek yet again as the other wolf politely declined, his own attention affixed to the television as the game picked back up.

Derek was… not a particularly expressive person, Stiles knew, and part of that was because Derek had what Stiles affectionately called ‘resting grumpy face’; at least, he did privately, because the one time he said it out loud Derek had thrown the Encyclopaedia of Demomorgons at his head.

So, to the outsider looking in, Derek might have just seemed uninterested in the game; but Stiles had been watching Derek work for the better part of a semester, and he knew perfectly well how to tell when Derek’s resting grumpy face formed an actual frown. Which it did. Because apparently, the Mets had personally offended him.

“I’m sorry, are you seriously glaring at the Mets? While they’re winning?”

Derek leveled Stiles with the most unimpressed glare he could as Scott laughed from his kitchen, walking back into the living room with two beers. “God, I hope he was. It would be nice to have someone with taste in the apartment for once.”

“Scotty!” Stiles gasped, clutching his heart as Scott handed him a beer, extending the claw on his thumb to pop the top off before he handed the bottle over. “The Mets are a treasure, okay? If God lived in New York, she’d be a Mets fan. I have suffered much for my Mets in my lifetime, and they—woah, Derek, you okay?”

Stiles’ charming cliches would have to wait, because when he looked over to Derek, his humor dropped immediately. Derek had gone white as a sheet, jaw slack as he stared at the beer in Stiles’ hand.

He stared back and forth between Scott and Derek, trying to figure what the hell had just happened; it wasn’t until he watched Scott pop the top off of his own beer, looking between the two of them, did Stiles put two and two together.

“Derek, you… you had to know that Scott was a were, right? Like, you had to. He—Scotty doesn’t do subtle.”

“Me?! Stiles, you called me a wet dog for like a month after I fell into the Hudson.”

Derek let out a sort of choked noise as he shut his mouth, coming back into himself as a bit of pink dusted his pale cheeks, hands moving in front of his face. “Of—of course I knew, but—you knew?!”

“Dude, I’m studying mythical lore and criminology. I’m the one who taught this furry fucker how to control himself. Of course I knew, I... oh my god. You didn’t know that I knew—uh, that I know.”

Matching looks of realization dawned on Scott and Stiles’ face as Stiles stood up, putting the beer down on the coffee table. He moved next to Derek as he sat down on the couch, keeping his movement slow, reaching out to pat Derek’s leg like he was a frail old lady.

“Derek, I know.”

After what felt like an age and a half, Derek melted into the couch, a huge sigh leaving his lips as all the tension in his body bled out like a string had been cut, burying his head in his hands.

“We’ve had arguments about wolves in pop culture. I’ve offered to help you out with your coursework every full moon for, like, the entire semester. Dude, you had to know that I knew, there’s no way I didn’t—Derek!” Stiles felt his giddy laughter bubble over as Derek shot him a red-eyed glare through his fingers, his scowl somehow less intimidating now that everything was out in the open.

Okay, Derek wasn’t just a wolf, he was an alpha. That was… interesting.

“God, you two really are perfect fake boyfriends. Two halves of a whole idiot. Derek, are you sure you don’t want a beer? Or maybe something stronger, if you have to deal with Stiles?” Scott said easily, laughing as Stiles immediately protested, though the way Stiles eased himself next to Derek wasn’t exactly subtle, either.

—————

Scott may have been joking, but by the time finals had come and gone, Stiles had accepted the fact that he would have to forgo booze and opt for a mainline of caffeine to keep up with Derek. How one person remained so meticulously organized, Stiles would never know—but in the amount of time it took for Stiles to wrap up his grant work for the semester, Derek had given four exams, proctored three more, cleaned out his office, and shared the updated flight itinerary with Stiles.

“Wait, wait, hang on,” Stiles had said, tripping over an empty box in his tiny office as Derek handed him his updated boarding pass. “Why do we have to change our flights? Scott and I are already booked, you can probably just join us, right?”

Derek rose a perfectly sculpted brow as he tapped the ticket again, shaking his head. “Hey, I promised you’d spend as few days as possible with my family, and I intend to keep that promise. The sooner we get in, the sooner we start that clock, the sooner you get to spend the rest your time with your dad.”

Stiles blinked as he looked down to the itinerary, eyes scanning over the earlier time—and it was non-stop too. That would be a bit killer on the legs, but Stiles could handle that, maybe he could take some time to sleep or pester Derek for...

“Uh, Derek... this ticket is for first class.”

“I know, Stiles, I booked it.”

“Dude, there’s a reason Scott and I booked an economy ticket with a layover in Bismarck. There’s no way I can pay you back for this.”

If looks could kill, Stiles would be... maybe not dead, but at least set on fire. Derek sighed, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders as he rolled his eyes.

“You’re not paying me back, dumbass. You’re already doing a ton for me with this little... charade, the least I can do is make sure your frail human body—“

“Hey!”

”—is comfortable in a lie flat seat.”

“Look, I appreciate that, but I’m not leaving Scott alone on his flight in coach just because of our... fake... whatever.”

Stiles’ voice trailed off in curiosity as Derek sighed, his cheeks pink as he pulled the paper out of Stiles’ hand, pointing to the second half of the sheet—where MCCALL, SCOTT had been printed in big, bold letters, that Stiles had completely ignored.

“... you got Scott a ticket too?”

“Of course I did. He’s your best friend, I wasn’t going to ask you to leave him behind just for me. Besides, who do you think I got your information from to book the flight?” Derek said dryly, as though his deadpan delivery could cancel out the ruddy color to his cheeks, or the way that Stiles’ stomach flip flopped when the reality of that sunk in.

It was nice that Derek acknowledged the importance of their friendship, in the way that tugged at the little space right beneath his sternum, but something about the way Derek so quickly dismissed himself was... concerning.

Stiles couldn’t help but play that little bit of their conversation over in his head as he packed, as he hopped on the train, as he met up with Scott and Derek in security.

Scott, bless his heart, was absolutely elated—his excitement was almost tangible as they dropped off luggage, walked through security, and stood around at the boarding gate. Derek had to smack the both of them to get them to stand up when first class was called to board, and Stiles idly wondered if Derek regretted associating himself with them when he and Scott managed to trip in sync as they went down the jetway.

Derek and Stiles were seated together, of course, and once Stiles got over the novelty of not having a middle seat on a plane, he liked to imagine he fit right in—easing back into the seat, enjoying the comfort of the little blanket he had been given, grinning at the flight attendant as she checked in with them.

(Scott was one row ahead and across the aisle, close enough that Stiles could lean forward and smack him if he wanted to... but the moment Stiles saw his seat mate, a pretty woman with dark hair and impeccable eyeliner, he knew his best bro would be on a different planet for the entirety of the flight.)

His grin slipped a little bit, though, as he thought back to the conversation surrounding the tickets, and he looked up to Derek as he settled in a bit further.

“So, we never went over what role I should be taking on.”

“Stiles, just be yourself. You’re funny enough, and you generally mean well, they’ll love who you are.”

Yeah… who he was. Well, who he was was someone who was going to be dangerously invested in a fake relationship that would probably end terribly for him, so that was fun. He sighed as he settled into the seat, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he debated on where to go from here.

No time like a non stop plane ride to have a potentially awkward conversation, right?

“Dude, we’re friends, right?”

“We’re fake boyfriends, don’t call me dude.”

Derek’s tone was teasing as he flipped through his SkyMall, a small smile on his face, and Stiles felt a little bit of the tension ease out of his shoulders as he buckled in.

“First of all, I have called many boyfriends ‘dude’ before,” Stiles started, ignoring Derek’s snort of laughter, “and I’m being serious. We... we are friends, right?”

Be it his words or his awkward energy, Derek looked up, surprise on his face as he closed the magazine and stowed it away as the plane bumped down the taxiway.

“Of course we are, Stiles. You’re like... the only person I talk to at work outside of teaching, that’s light years ahead of most of New York as a whole.”

“I mean, I’m glad to hear, I just...” Stiles chewed on his lip as he turned in his seat, weirdly soothed by the roar of the engines as the takeoff roll started. “You know about my dad, and about my school, and about Scott, and those are basically the three important things in my life,” he started, letting out a sigh as Derek just stared at him blankly.

“It’s fine that you’re a private person, I can respect that... seriously, I may not understand it, but I can respect it,” Stiles said, grinning as Derek shot him a look, lowering his voice again as he leaned over the divider between them. “But I didn’t know that you were from my hometown, too. Or that you had sisters, let alone other family. I should have asked, I guess, but... you know you can talk to me about things, yeah? Even after all this is over, you’ll always be Derek to me. Not just another Hale.”

Stiles’ was smiling as he gently bumped Derek’s shoulder with his own, watching the way different emotions warred over his face, biting back on the urge to babble on so he could give Derek the time he needed to respond.

“We’re... we are friends, Stiles. We are.” Derek insisted, looking down to his linked hands as the plane continued to rise. “Sometimes, I just... I’m not great about talking about myself.”

For a while, Stiles thought that was all he was going to get, and honestly, he was fine with it—it wasn’t until the fasten seatbelt sign chimed off and the flight attendants passed out little bottles of water that Derek spoke again, his voice low as he cleared his throat.

“My family is huge. Like, big enough that we need spreadsheets and flowcharts to organize family events like this. I know they love me, and I love them too, of course I do, but I made some really, really stupid decisions when I was younger… I know they forgave me for it, but...”

Derek sighed, taking a deep breath as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Sometimes it’s hard to be around them and still be okay with myself, you know?”

No, Stiles didn’t know. He only had his dad and Scott growing up, but he nodded his head encouragingly as he took a sip of his water.

“I actually have four siblings. Mark is the oldest, and then Taylor, and I’m right between Laura and Cora. They’re betas, like my dad; my mom and I are both alphas, her mom, too…” Derek continued, and Stiles smiled as he settled into his seat.

By the time the flight landed, Stiles’ head was full to the brim with Hale family trivia, names, faces, teasing stories, and the warmth that had danced across Stiles’ chest for the past year or so had bloomed into a full-on fire.

Would it lead to his downfall? Probably.

But when he saw how Derek smiled when he remembered Mark’s graduating medical school, or heard the pride in his voice when he talked about Laura’s charity work, and the genuine joy he got to see when he heard another story about Derek’s childhood… well, that was all more than worth it.

—————

“I think you should kiss me.”

Stiles had to stop himself from laughing at the look that Derek shot him, doing his best to keep his body language casual as he leaned against the gas pump at a tiny station outside of Beacon Hills, though he knew his heart was going at about a million miles a minute.

“I—you—what?”

“Derek, I’m an affectionate dude, in case you couldn’t tell from all the hand holding. And if you’re going to freak out if I kiss your cheek, then you should freak out now, not when we’re in front of your family.”

Stiles knew full well his heart betrayed his confidence, but seeing Derek’s ears go pink as he dumped the armful of snacks Stiles had asked for into the back seat was a welcome sight—it was always nice to know that Derek’s cool and controlled exterior could be ruffled up once in a while.

Somewhere between the rental kiosk and the gas station, Stiles had decided that he was going to go all in on this. His little crush was already stuck right in the back of his throat and would be unlikely to dislodge any time soon, so he figured that indulging himself in the fake relationship Derek had set up for him… well, it wouldn’t do any good, but it was unlikely to make things worse for him than it already was.

It was a little weird being alone with Derek—Stiles didn’t realize it until now, but between meeting Derek’s sisters and meeting the rest of their family, this was the first time they had been alone together. They had other staff members at school, or strangers around the city, or Scott (who had politely declined a ride back to Beacon Hills with Derek and Stiles, choosing instead to split an Uber with his pretty new friend, Kira).

“You know, as far as first kisses go, usually they’re a little more romantic than just a demand. You’re supposed to woo me, Stiles,” Derek said, his sarcastic tone betrayed by his shy little smile as he pulled the nozzle out of his tank, closing the gas cap as Stiles gasped in mock offense.

“Hey, I said you should kiss me, not the other way around. Why should I have to be the one to woo?” Stiles started, sliding into the passenger’s seat as Derek followed suit. “After all, this relationship wouldn’t have even happened without your instigation, so why should I… uh… Der?”

Stiles’ voice trailed off as Derek’s hand sunk into the soft crook at the juncture of his neck, effectively cutting off his entire train of thought as Derek’s thumb pressed against the hollow of his jaw.

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“O-Okay.”

For a minute, all Stiles could think of were those cheesy old rom-coms, where fireworks would go off, or bells would chime, but kissing Derek was nothing like that. It was the comfort of wrapping yourself in an electric blanket, instead of the shock of jumping into a frozen pond; the familiar buzz of goosebumps over his skin over a bolt of lightning. He felt a surprised little noise leave his chest as Derek’s tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue flicking out instinctively to drag along Derek’s bottom lip, hands coming up to rest against the wolves chest.

Stiles could feel his heart beating through every inch of his skin as the kiss broke, struggling to remind himself how to breathe as he opened his eyes again, his nose brushing against Derek’s as he let out a little huff of a laugh.

“Was that enough woo for you?” Derek asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, and Stiles smiled as he nodded his head, savoring the way that neither of them moved back. Derek’s hand was warm against the crook of his jaw, his own palm flat against Derek's chest, and it was natural, it was so nice, it was—

Fake. It was all fake.

Stiles sighed, closing his eyes as he gently leaned in and pressed their foreheads together, that mantra playing through his head as he pulled himself back. He buckled himself in easily as he took in a deep breath, his goofy grin still in place as he looked back up to Derek.

“See? Now you can honestly tell your mom we had our first kiss at a gas station and that it was magical and I totally rocked your world.”

“Is that what happened, though? I mean, if you wanted me to kiss you so badly, you should have just asked,” Derek said, the sarcasm thick in his voice as he started the car, and Stiles laughed as they pulled out of the lot, his hand finding Derek’s easily once again.

Their silence remained comfortable as they left the city skyline behind and basically blew through Beacon Hills, the trees inching closer to the road as they wound through the preserve.

Finishing off a bag of M&M’s, Stiles cleared his throat as he crumpled up the wrapper and chucked it in the back seat, sucking a little bit of melted chocolate off of his thumb. “So. Is this regular introducing-the-boyfriend-to-the-family nerves I’m looking at here, or is this introducing-the-fake-boyfriend-to-the-family nerves? You don’t have any weirdos in your family, do you? An ex-felon auntie? A cousin who doesn’t quite get personal space?”

Stiles grinned as Derek laughed, oddly comforted by the sound as Derek shook his head. “Nothing exciting. A weird uncle, I guess. Lots of cousins, you should basically abandon any idea of personal space as soon as we walk in, and plenty of human family, too—so you won’t be alone in that. As far as felons go, well… none of us have been caught?”

“Hey, game recognizes game, it doesn’t count if you don’t get caught. And I can work with a weird uncle.” Stiles laughed at the sheepish look that Derek shot his way, his fingers still happily wrapped up in Derek’s warm hands. He could almost feel it when they crossed over onto the Hale land, the huge, white house as much of a giveaway as the shrieks of joy that even Stiles could hear from the property.

“They’re gonna love you, you know?” Derek’s voice was soft as he pulled the rental into a long row of cars, nearly lining the road leading up to the house, and Stiles felt the snarky remark die on his tongue as Derek caught his eye, his expression somewhere between grateful and wistful as he turned the car off.

“Maybe, but…” Stiles sighed as he popped his door open, chewing over his next words carefully. “But if they do, it’s because they already love you.”

He took it as a personal victory when Derek turned away, his ears pink again, and Stiles couldn’t help but grin as he followed the werewolf up the path to his family home.

The Hale House was probably as huge and impressive as the Hale family itself from the outside, and Stiles did his best not to gape like a fool as Derek opened the door for him, his hand finding the small of Stiles’ back as they stepped into the house. Polished floors, huge, high windows, a grand staircase that was the definition of grand, and—

“Derek!”

—and another unfairly attractive Hale moving forward to greet them. Tall, broad, dark hair with just a splash of salt around the temples and the goatee, shining a million watt smile on Derek and Stiles as he wiped his hands on his probably-uncomfortably-tight jeans.

Jesus, was everyone in this family gorgeous? Stiles was going to get a complex.

He looked up as the stranger and Derek briefly hugged, watching the halfway-subtle way they scented one another, Mark’s head buried in Derek’s neck for a half moment before they pulled away. If Stiles strained his ear, he could have heard something along the lines of ‘be nice’ as Derek pulled back; if the situation weren’t so funny, Stiles probably would have blushed.

“Don’t listen to him, I’m always nice. I’m Mark, and you…” Mark started, his million watt smile back in place as his eyes dragged over Stiles’ body, “... you must be Stiles.” Stiles snorted as Mark pulled him into an easy hug, catching Stiles just a little off-guard as he was wrapped in another pair of arms.

Apparently Derek’s family was an affectionate bunch. Stiles didn’t know if it was a wolf thing or a Hale thing, but either way, it was good to know.

“Mark, uh, Seattle, right? You’re the surgeon?” Stiles asked, clearing his throat as the hug carried on just a bit too long, regaining some footing in the introduction as he pulled back. “Derek’s told me a lot about you.”

That was… mostly true, Derek had told him enough about Mark to thoroughly embarrass the older male, and Mark looked like he expected nothing less as he laughed, holding Stiles’ shoulders as he stood at arms length. “Yeah, I’m sure he did, but it’s probably all garbage. After all, how can you really describe a wonder like me in words, huh?”

He actually winked, and Stiles honestly couldn’t believe that this dude was for real.

“Der, nice job with this one. He’s cute. Kid, is my brother treating you well? Cause, you know, if Hale is your taste, you can do much better than—”

”Mark—“

“Oh, lighten up Der-bear, there isn’t enough Botox in the world to get rid of those scowl lines. It was a joke. Now come on, everyone’s out back.”

Stiles laughed again as Mark put Derek in an easy headlock, ruffling up his hair as he led them outside, immediately filing ‘Der-bear’ away for future use as they stepped out into the backyard.

The backyard, which was absolutely filled with Hales.

He felt his heart do a funny little lurch as he was hit with the sheer family of it all—all dark haired, all gorgeous, and for just a moment, he wanted to smack Derek upside the head. There were probably generations of Hales here; Derek had all this family, this built in support group, and he was just going to spend the summer holed up in New York?

“Alright, Siles, we’re gonna keep you in with the main family and keep you away from the cousins,” Mark started, artfully ignoring the way Derek was swatting at him. “Uncle Peter all but insisted that Mom come pick him up, so you’ll get to avoid them until later tonight, but who you really want to watch out for is—“

“Is that my grandbaby?!”

Mark stiffened as Derek perked up, and Stiles couldn’t help but snicker as a bony hand shot up, grabbing Mark by the scruff of his neck, pulling him off of Derek with a flourish that would probably seem overly dramatic if Stiles didn’t know just how much werewolf strength was packed behind it.

“Derek!”

“Hi, Nana.”

Stiles couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as Derek leaned in to wrap his arms around the older woman—she was a good foot shorter than he was, her movements loud, with light skinned with the same tell-tale black hair that the rest of the family had. What caught Stiles’ eye, though, was the way Derek scented her—it was the same way Mark scented him, a familial nudge that Stiles read easily as a sign of deference.

Whoever this Nana was, she was clearly the woman in charge here.

“You know, we’re all technically her grandbabies,” Mark started as he reappeared at Stiles’ shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck, his childish pout painfully obvious as he pointed his words. “But you wouldn’t know it with the blatant favoritism she shows for Derek!”

“Mark, don’t be such a baby,” Nana Hale said as she pulled back from Derek’s hug, patting his cheek affectionately. She raised a brow in a spectacularly unimpressed fashion as she turned to look at her eldest grandson, sighing in mock disappointment. “Not that I thought a career based off of liposuction and face lifts would have brought you some maturity.”

“That’s—I don’t just do—Nana!”

“Now, who do we have here? Derek, are you going to introduce me to your special friend?”

Ignoring Mark’s protests easily as she turned her attention, Stiles felt his heart pick up again, his eyes flicking to Derek as he beamed; Stiles wasn’t sure if he was happy to see Mark get smacked down, or if he was happy to introduce Stiles, but Stiles would have literally killed a man to see Derek smile that brightly on a regular basis.

“Nana, this is my boyfriend, Stiles Stilinski. Stiles, this is my grandmother, Ger—“

“Nana Hale will do just fine, thank you very much,” she interrupted, pulling a face that made Stiles grin—he could absolutely relate to someone who would rather set their birth name on fire than own up to it. “Now, come here, let me get a look at you.”

Stiles stepped forward and hesitated a half moment, not sure if he should try one last time for a handshake or wait for her to initiate a hug, but before he could make up his mind she had her hands clasped on his elbows, a grip like iron stopping him in his tracks.

“Scrawny little thing, aren’t you? We’ll take care of that, don’t you worry. It’s good to meet you, sweetheart, let’s get you some food.”

“It’s good to meet you too—and some food sounds great,” Stiles said with a laugh, ignoring the fact that he was still full of junk food as Nana Hale all but preened beside him. Her grip was gentle but unyielding as she dragged him to a table that was piled with food, giving a half wave to Laura and Cora, who were stationed beside a punch bowl the size of a fish tank as he kept himself a half step behind Nana.

Stiles wasn’t dumb, okay? He knew how to make nice with wolves, and more importantly, he knew how to be subtle.

(He didn’t like it, but he knew how to do it.)

“Uncle Derek! Get Uncle Derek!!”

Thankfully, the moment was over in a flash as Stiles heard a familiar name called out in a high pitched squeal, looking back out to the yard where a hoard of kids had just caught sight (or scent?) of Derek, immediately abandoning the rough-and-tumble games they seemed to be wrapped up in to run toward Derek as fast as their little legs could carry them.

Derek immediately tensed, a manic grin on his face as he prepared to run, body twitching as he caught himself before taking off. He sent a look Stiles’ way that was somehow both apologetic and asking remission, and Stiles sighed as he smiled.

“You better run, Uncle Derek. They’re gonna get you,” Stiles said mock-seriously, only barely keeping a straight face as Derek instead ran straight to the kids, making all sorts of comedic noises as they mobbed his legs.

Fuck, he was cute.

Stiles’ attention was pulled off of Derek as he felt eyes on him, subtly scanning the yard before he made eye contact with another adult in the family, who was very shirtless, and very sweaty, and very much walking toward them with a bright smile on his face.

Okay, Stiles was definitely getting a complex.

“You must be Stiles!” he exclaimed once he was closer to their little group, and Stiles had never been as thankful for a child as he was for the tiny body perched on top of the other males shoulders, because he was just about at his ‘hugging gorgeous people’ limit. He was still sweating, for fucks sake, but Stiles supposed that even a wolf got tired out when they had eight kids hanging from their body until Uncle Derek stepped in.

“I am, and…” Stiles was about to assume this was the firefighter sibling, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the kid on top of his shoulders smiled, and Stiles was absolutely smitten. “And who is this little guy?”

The distraction was apparently a welcome one, because shirtless dude’s smile grew even wider, reaching up to pat the kid on a mop of curly hair before he lifted him up and over, holding him at chest level. “This is Isaac. Isaac, can you say hi to Stiles? He’s your uncle Derek’s special friend.”

Stiles literally felt his heart melt as Isaac gave a shy little wave, looking up at him with big blue eyes. He couldn’t have been older than three or four, and Stiles smiled and waved back as Isaac was set down on the ground.

“You wanna go play with Uncle D?” Any hint of shyness was forgotten the moment the question was asked, taking off toward Derek as fast as his little legs could carry him, which… wasn’t very fast, but was very, very cute.

“They all yours?” Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked over to Derek, who now had at least six kids hanging off of him. He smiled as the other male shivered, shaking his head quickly.

“God no, just the three. Erica and Boyd, and Isaac too, now that the adoption has been finalized. Those kids basically run the joint, Derek included—as long as you don’t mind the occasional toddler mobbing, you’ll fit in just fine.”

“Thanks, random shirtless man, I really hope so.”

Stiles grinned as Laura choked on a mouthful of punch, the weirdness of the situation apparently just now visible to her as she sputtered, punching her brother in the arm. “Oh god, Taylor, what is wrong with you! Go put on a shirt, you can’t just—you didn’t even introduce yourself, I swear—Stiles is a guest, you weirdo!”

They kept bickering back and forth as Taylor pulled an undershirt on over his head, the whining turning into background noise as he poured himself a glass of punch. He knew perfectly well what Laura was trying to say—Stiles is a human—and he was pretty sure he was mostly flattered by everyone trying so hard, but any coherent thought left his head as he took a bite of the ribs, watching Nana Hale grin out of the corner of his eyes as he groaned in delight.

“God, they really do have Derek wrapped around their pudgy fingers,” Cora mused, and Stiles nodded his head, swallowing. It was honestly hilarious to watch Derek try to manage all those kids by himself; they seemed determined to pile themselves onto his head and shoulders, and he could almost see Derek sweat, trying to make sure he didn’t drop anyone as Isaac managed to wriggle his way into Derek’s grip.

He tilted his head in consideration, taking a sip of his drink before he spoke up.

“Yeah, he always did strike me as that kind of Alpha.”

He couldn’t help but savor the way the conversation ground to a halt around him, Laura and Taylor both sucking in a deep breath as Mark shattered the glass he was holding. There probably was a better way to acknowledge that he was in on the secret, but as funny as it was watching Derek’s siblings tiptoe around the fact, he figured it was best to rip the bandaid off in one go.

Even if it meant he had the attention of the Hales closest to him in one second, flat, Nana’s burning red from where she stood with a plate piled high with food.

He probably should have been nervous, but as he looked back at Derek, he could tell it was the right choice—Derek was all smiles, waiting only a beat before he popped his fangs and playfully snapped at one of his little nieces, the air soon full of squealing laughter once again.

Keeping his gaze even, Stiles smiled in thanks as he took the plate of food Nana offered to him, watching as her eyes melted back into their darker, human color. She was staring at him like he was a particularly complex puzzle, and she wasn’t alone—Cora looked hilariously outraged that she didn’t realize sooner, and even Mark was looking over him with renewed interest as his hand healed.

“I knew you were a smart boy. He told you?”

Nana’s question was accusing, but not unkind, and Stiles shrugged it off easily as he popped a chip into his mouth.

“He didn’t have to. My best friend was bitten when we were both fifteen. He didn’t have… anything, no alpha, no pack, just me and my mad Googling skills, and we’ve had plenty of supernatural run-ins over the years. Derek didn’t tell me because he didn’t have to tell me—I’m not anything special, but I’d like to think I can spot a non-human from at least fifty feet. Maybe more on a good day.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

Stiles jumped as he heard Derek’s voice from behind him, and it truly was a credit to his poise and sophistication that he only blushed a little as Derek’s arm snaked around his waist. His body was warm, far warmer than it had been ten minutes ago, and Derek’s breath came a little heavy as he kissed the back of Stiles’ head.

“You are definitely something special.”

“You—you absolute cheeseball, what is wrong with you—” Stiles managed to get out as he shoved at Derek’s shoulder, his entire face burning red as Laura and Cora both gagged. Any residual awkwardness melted away as Nana’s sharp laugh cut through the air, the sound putting him back at ease as he leaned back into Derek’s warmth.

Somewhere between the fortieth round of storytelling and the gathering moving back into the house, Stiles needed a breather. Derek’s family was huge, and loud, and honestly, Stiles loved it—but it wasn’t long before he felt an itch beneath his skin, his fingers buzzing against his thigh, the muscles in his jaw a little too tight.

Stiles had expected Derek to be pretty popular in the family—what he didn’t expect, though, was that he would be anything more than an introduction and the same polite questions that everyone gave the new boyfriend.

“Wait, no fucking way did the two of you take down a Kanima, Stiles, I’m calling bullshit right now—“

Derek’s siblings were great, but they were also the worst; the minute they found out that Stiles had his own supernatural background, they were pestering him for stories, demanding his opinion of things, getting more and more exasperated with his entire life the more he shared.

Stiles knew that his life was crazy, okay? He didn’t need the constant reminders or the slack-jawed shocked expressions to reinforce that fact.

“Jesus, we didn’t even know that there were any wendigos in the state, and you knew an entire family of them?”

The only stories he flat out refused to talk about were the… issues he had had with hunters through high school—this was a party, after all, and he didn’t want to be the one to bring the vibe down by talking about the one time an assassin held a gun to his head to try and draw Scott out.

Fun times.

“What do you mean, you just know a banshee? And set her up with a hellhound? Dude, who are you?!”

Kissing Derek had, oddly enough, only exasperated the situation. In less than a day, they had gotten better at trading little affections back and forth; but instead of helping Stiles calm down, they only increased that thrumming nerves that bounced around at the base of his skull.

Which sucked, honestly, because kissing Derek was… really, really nice.

Stiles waited until another cousin who’s name he would never remember caught Derek up in a conversation about another tradition he couldn’t follow before he squeezed Derek’s hand, taking the opportunity to stand up from his spot on the couch and slip away.

The Hale House was huge, and outside was no exception; Stiles soon found himself on the porch, a huge wraparound wooden structure with built-in benches that let you enjoy the kind of view that made Stiles remember why he loved home so much. He treated himself to a few pictures of the sunset over Beacon Canyon before he flopped himself down on a bench, rubbing at his neck.

“Stiles? Everything alright?”

He had half expected Derek to follow him out after a few moments—but to his surprise, it was Nana Hale that sat beside him, her cheeks still pink with laughter as she tucked a jet black flyaway behind an ear.

“Is—oh, no, it’s great! Just wanted to, uh, snap a few pictures of the view.”

Another half truth—he was full to bursting with those lately.

“I know that our family can be… a little overwhelming,” she said, her tone even as she rose a brow, keeping her gaze forward as her fingers drummed a pattern into her knee.

Stiles hummed in agreement, his own smile a touch more genuine as he looked over to her. “Maybe, but that’s not a bad thing. When I was growing up, I spent so much time wondering what it would be like, to have siblings, and cousins, and… well, it might be a lot, but it’s a lot of love, too. I’m really glad Derek has that kind of support.”

Nana’s fingers stilled against her knee as she turned to face Stiles, and for the first time, Stiles was really able to get a good look at her properly. He could understand why she was the matriarch of the family, and how she had kept that title so long; even if he hadn’t witnessed her taking Mark down less than four hours ago, there was a whole other kind of strength that she was showing here, radiating off of her in waves.

“He does. But he doesn’t just have us for love and support... or was I reading the way you look at him wrong?” Her tone was teasing as she rose her brow, and Stiles felt his cheeks pink up spectacularly as he coughed, his eyes flashing back to the window for only a moment before Nana patted his knee.

“Don’t worry, the house is completely soundproof. Those nosy little pups can’t hear a word we say. Now tell me, how long have you been in love with my grandson?”

Now fully, beautifully red, Stiles groaned as he hid his face in his hands, Nana’s laughter ringing strong and clear as she stood up and walked toward the railing. “Oh don’t be so dramatic, I have no intention of spoiling that surprise until you’re ready to really woo him with it. And you’d better woo him! You know as well as I do that he deserves the romancing.”

Her tone softened as she chuckled, trailing off with a sigh and a sort of wistful smile as she shook her head. “New York has been good to him. You have, too, I think. California was… a rough part in his life.”

Something in the way she phrased it got the investigative side of his brain thrumming, his curiosity piqued as he remembered what Derek said on the plane.

‘I know they forgave me, but… sometimes it’s hard to be around them and still be okay with myself, you know?’

The nosy part of him wanted to pry, to dig a little more, but his eyes flicked back to the window again, where Derek and all four of his siblings were doing a terrible job at acting like they weren't trying to stare him down.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll tell me when he’s ready.”

Apparently, that was the right answer—Nana’s face softened again as she smiled, nodding her head, beckoning Stiles into standing up. She put her hand in the crook of his elbow easily, steering them back toward the house in a way that allowed no room for compromise.

“You are going to be good for my Der-bear, I know it.”

“Oh, I mean, I hope so. Derek deserves that, and I definitely—“

“Just let him be good for you, too.”

She reached up and patted Stiles cheek as he stared at her, dumbfounded, automatically opening the door for her as she walked back into the house. His expression was mirrored in the matching expressions of slack-jawed shock from all five Hale siblings, all staring at Stiles as Nana started in on another family story that would be sure to embarrass Mark, or Laura, or anyone who wasn’t Derek.

He meant what he said, of course. Derek deserved someone who would be good for him.

Somehow, that was the problem here.

—————

“Stiles, you reek of nerves. All I can smell is nerves and bell peppers. It’s not a good smell. Are you going to tell me what you’re freaking out about, or what?”

Stiles jolted as Derek called him out so effortlessly, pulled out of the trance he had fallen into as he watched Derek work, pushing around some of the barbecue from the night prior with some fresh chopped veggies into a delightful spur of the moment stir fry.

Derek was also as dressed down as Stiles had ever seen him, in a light grey henley and a dark pair of jeans, and that was even more delightful than the stir fry.

“Wait, you—that’s just something you can do? Oh god, your entire family must have known how nervous I was yesterday, did they—“

“Stiles. Breathe.”

Right. Breathing. He could do that.

…. maybe.

The truth was, Stiles could honestly say that he was having a great time back in Beacon Hills.

Derek and his family were great, no lie, and fake relationship aside, the researcher in him was absolutely thriving seeing how a huge, well-established pack worked with one another. They were literally a well oiled machine, the personification of the old ‘it takes a village’ metaphor, and the only thing that amazed Stiles more than how well they worked together was how well they adapted to Stiles being there.

Of course, he thought a big part of that came from having the Alphas on his side—not just Derek, but Nana too.

(“I can’t believe she hugged you,” Laura had hissed after yet another glass of infused punch. “When she met my last boyfriend, she threw him off the porch.”

“Well, Stiles is a fragile little human,” Taylor had snorted, ignoring the way Stiles smacked his arm, “and Hank was a major, prolapsed asshole.”

“Well yeah, but that’s not the point!”)

As great as Derek and his family was though, getting to come home and surprise his dad early… well, there was no place on the planet he would rather be than wrapped in a signature Stilinski hug, the kind of hug where you held on just a little longer than you needed to so you can pretend you definitely weren’t crying.

He got to watch a game with his dad, he got to sleep in his old, lumpy-ass childhood bed, he got to make breakfast in his mom’s kitchen.

So yeah. Great time.

Or at least, it had been, until a text rolled through after he kissed his dad goodbye that morning.

der-bear: Do you want to come over for lunch? Nana has everyone out of the house, Mom and Uncle Peter showed up this morning and he’s already driving everyone crazy.

sent: sure man. want me to bring anything? :)

der-bear: Don’t worry about it. Besides, I figure we should talk before the bonfire anyway.

And just like that, something brought around a cloud to rain on Stiles’ parade.

“Is it about tonight?” Derek asked, and if Stiles’ hadn’t been so laser focused on his cooking technique (his arms, okay, he was staring at Derek’s arms) he probably would have missed the way Derek hesitated when he asked, like he was afraid of the answer.

He picked himself up off of the barstool at the island in their gigantic kitchen, leaning against the counter closer to Derek, reaching in to pluck a chunk of onion out of the pan, skillfully avoiding the swat from Derek’s wooden spoon. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you… You know we’re looking forward to having you with us, right?” Derek asked, spooning some of the food onto two separate plates, using his claws to rip two fresh chunks of bread off of a loaf. “But if you don’t… I mean, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be there if you don’t want to.”

Stiles frowned as he accepted one of the plates, pulling the smaller chunk of bread off of one of Derek’s claws, mulling his next words over. “As long as you want me there I’ll be there,” Stiles said slowly, because there really was no way to politely say that Stiles would rather throw himself into the sun before his mythical lore studying ass missed out on observing pack activity on a blue moon.

“Why would you think I didn’t want you there?” Derek asked, looking like he was offended at the very notion, sliding a fork to Stiles as he sat down at the countertop, that offended look only growing as Stiles snorted.

“I dunno, I thought you might have changed your mind about it. Dude, you sent me a ‘we should talk’ text. I’m no expert, but I know that nothing good follows a ‘we should talk’ text,” Stiles said around a mouth full of bread, but any degree of playful levity he had gone for was sapped out of his voice the moment he saw Derek look back down at his plate.

“That, uh. I do think we should talk, but not about that. Stiles, I...”

Ah, fuck. Derek’s ears were pink again, and for once, Stiles thought that was a bad thing.

Stiles did his best not to panic as he thought through things, wondering what he had fucked up, because he just knew he had fucked up a little something. Maybe he had come on a little too strong last night, maybe he had gotten too comfortable with his crush, maybe—

“I was thinking that maybe… we shouldn’t be faking this anymore.”

—or maybe, he had fucked up a whole lot of everything.

Stiles felt his heart sink through his shoes as he swallowed his bread, his appetite suddenly gone. He brushed his hands on his jeans, giving a few short nods, swallowing again as he pushed back from the table a little bit. He thought for a moment that he should argue against it, but Derek had a sad puppy expression splashed across his face, and Stiles wasn’t strong against that on a good day.

“Oh.”

He could feel Derek’s eyes tracking him as he started to move, standing up and starting an easy track around the kitchen, flexing his fingers before he rubbed his palm with his thumbs, an old habit he had thought he had kicked back when he graduated from Berkeley.

“I think, uh, maybe you should wait until you’re back in New York to tell your family?” Stiles started, missing the tiny smile on Derek’s face before it melted into a look of confusion. “You should tell them I broke up with you, not the other way around, I don’t mind being the bad guy,” he added, staring down at his hands.

“Wait, Stiles—“

“No, seriously, it’s fine,” Stiles interrupted, putting a smile back on his face, because he knew this was going to be coming at some point. Derek had made up their entire relationship, and Stiles had worked hard to remember that the reality of it was… that it wasn’t reality. He was the one with the inconvenient crush, he was the one who had gotten stupid. This was all on him, and taking the high road to bow out gracefully would be too.

Or, at least, it should have been. But Derek had abandoned his seat as well, halfway following Stiles in his trail around the kitchen, putting his arm out against a countertop to stop Stiles at a turn.

“I said I wanted to stop faking, Stiles.”

Hell, when had Derek gotten so close to him? Stiles blinked as he backed up against the counter, Derek’s arms closing him in, and suddenly he was getting an up close and personal look at Derek’s lips, and his eyes, and the way the blush was going back up his ears, and—

...why was Derek blushing?

“I never said anything about wanting you to leave.”

But why would Stiles be staying if… oh. Oh.

Realization dawned on Stiles’ face as Derek blushed and looked down, moving his hands a little bit closer against the counter, and Stiles felt a shiver run down his spine as he felt Derek’s thumb settle right along his hip. He had to clear his throat before he could speak, swallowing down the hope that was threatening to bubble over, chewing on his lip as he put one hand on Derek’s chest, the other gently tipping his head back to look him in the eye.

“Dude, if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, you gotta spell it out, I’ve had a crush on you for like forever and if I’m mis-reading this—”

“I told you. I’m your boyfriend, don’t call me dude.”

Stiles laughed again, elation making him feel light and giddy, finally breaking eye contact with Derek as he felt his own blush burn through the back of his neck.

“Stay, Stiles. You belong here. With me.”

Rather than even try to form a coherent response, Stiles dropped one of his hands, cheeks still a ruddy color as he looped a finger into one of the belt loops on Derek’s designer jeans, pulling him just that much closer.

“Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Oh, thank God—"

—————

Yeah, Stiles thought hours later, still feeling the warmth of Derek’s smile against his lips as howls sounded off around the Hale House, moonlight swirling around him from the vantage point he had on the porch.

This was exactly where he belonged.

[thran-duils]

Thran-duils’ heavily encouraged dark!character writing challenge

I’ve wanted to host a writing/prompt challenge for a long time but I’ve always been too nervous (it’s a perpetual thing lmao). Well, I am taking the dive! Rules and all the information below the cut!

Credit to @santacarlahorrorshow for the lovely header! <3

RULES

1. This challenge is 18+. Seriously, don’t be a dick and ignore this rule.

2. Following that, all characters and reader insert are to be 18+

3. I really, really, really encourage dark!characters or dark!reader or both (soft!dark, dark, heavy!dark) for this but they do not have to be if that makes you uncomfortable. A lot of these prompts are going to be leaning towards dark but there are ways to not utilize them that way I’m sure!

4. These fics are to be reader insert.

5. Fandoms accepted are: Supernatural, Marvel, The Walking Dead, and Lord of the Rings verse (I’m begging for some Thranduil here lmao no shame).

6. All characters welcome! But please do not use real life actors for this!

7. Please do not write beastiality. That’s really the only thing I’m gonna be like “plz don’t” kink about.

8. The fics for this must be new, not adding to an already existing story. They can be drabbles, one shots, or a starting chapter for a new series.

9. I went back and forth about this but I think I am not going to put a limit on how many people can choose a prompt. This may come back to backfire on me but one prompt just might be popular and it would be fun to see what variations can come from it!

10. Send me an ask with your prompt you would like and character/s. I will tag you next to the prompt.

11. If you need to back out of the challenge, send me a DM and I will remove you. Things happen!

12. Make sure to tag your fics appropriately if they are dark! Not only does this help people avoid triggers but also you’ve done your due diligence to tell people to gtfo and if they don’t, well, then that’s on them.

13. You do not need to be following me to participate!

14. Please tag the fics as #thranduilswritingchallenge and also tag me to make sure I see it!

15. For lyrics and quotes, please use them in the fic! If there’s breaks in the lyric, feel free to break it up in the fic though. Situations are for encouragement. I did edit one lyric, Olivia O’Brien. I put the songs next to the lyrics in case you want to listen to the song.

16. The deadline for this challenge is September 4, 2021. I will make a masterpost and I will post it either 9/5 or 9/6!

Lyric Prompts

01. “You right, I got my guy. But I, I can’t help it, I want you” (You Right by Doja Cat)

02. “Good girls don’t cry and good girls don’t lie” (Good Girls by CHVRCHES)

03. “But you keep breaking me apart” (Fabric by Half Waif)

04. “Dance like you’re not a liar” (Last Night of an Empire by Imogen Heap) 05. “Two nights in a row, now I know that it’s broken” (Two Nights by Lykke Li) 06. “I want my ring back, baby, that’s a diamond” (Violent by carolesdaughter) 07. “I’ll show you how revenge can taste so sweet” (King by Lilith Czar) 08. “It’s certified, I’m not the nice one” (The Devil by Banks) 09. “Learn to take a hint. I thought I fucking told [you]” (No More Friends by Olivia O’Brien) 10. “What have you been doing? Don’t forget I am your home” (Purge the Poison by MARINA) --> @phantomwarrior12 (Dark!Gabriel) 11. “If I ever gave you a good reason to say goodbye I would regret it” (Getaway by VINCINT) 12. “Find your way back to my bed again” (Tulsa Jesus Freak by Lana Del Rey)

13. “Stop defending me, we’ll go down together” (Night Sway by Dance Gavin Dance)

14. “Don’t apologize for things you really felt” (Love Somebody Else by lovelytheband)

15. “Feeling stuck is fucking up my sanity” (All Your Love by Sir Sly)

16. “You’re so perfect from the outside. I stalked and studied away” (Who I Am by Code Orange)

17. “I used to know you. I never got you back” (Sideways by The Anix)

18. “You show up when I’m all alone” (Numb by Kiiara)

19. “Look out the window, see what you could’ve had” (Weird Leisure by Biffy Clyro)

20. “I hope that I mean it. Doubt it, right? Yeah, so do I” (AWOL by Every Time I Die)

Quote Prompts

01. “Hold out your tongue.”

02. “Can you keep a secret?”

03. “Temper, temper…”

04. “I don’t really feel like fighting.”

05. “Loving you was the most exquisite form of self destruction.” – David Jones

06. “Why are there weapons in my bathroom?”

07. “Go to hell!” “And leave you here all alone?”

08. “I love you.” “Don’t do that to yourself.”

09. “Here. Hold my morals.” --> @shadowshamrock (Dark!Sam Winchester)

10. “Hungry dogs are never loyal.” --> @mdemontespan1667​ (Dark!Jake Jensen)

11. “The girl I’ve heard so much about.”

12. “I was protecting you!”

13. “Just because you’re speaking in a different language doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re cursing me out.”

14. “Oh, don’t blame them. They did their best to try to kill me.”

15. “I don’t know how I would survive without you.”

16. “The whole world thinks you’re dead.”

17. “I wanted to see how you are doing.”

18. “How do we keep getting into these situations?”

19. “You stay awake, do you hear me?”

20. “I’ll hunt you down if I have to.”

21. “Do we have to do this game all over again?”

22. “I said I would be here when you need it.” ( @dollslayer​ -- Dark!Steve Rogers)

23. “You’re quite possibly the worst liar on Earth.”

25. “What is so urgent that you had to wake me up at 2:30am?”

26. “You know if you had just listened to me, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

27.  “Could you stop being an asshole for just a moment?”

Situation prompts

01. Reader accidentally stumbles upon character burying body and is kidnapped to keep them from talking.

02. Dom!Reader denies character multiple orgasms

03. Reader is a hired assassin and does not expect their target to thwart them with their own skills.

04. Reader and character stranded on the side of the road, night is coming.

05. Reader is ignoring character’s advances and character decides to break into their home to set up a romantic dinner.

06. Winter vacation with reader and character.

07. Mutual masturbation

08. Stormy night and the power goes out. Reader and character find a way to entertain themselves.

09. Reader keeps finding things missing from their apartment and eventually finds out who is taking them.

10. Reader and/or character are in an established relationship with someone else. Unfortunately for them, sex pollen gets in the mix. And oops, one of them let it out on purpose!

11. Reader is a in a dom/sub relationship with character. Ignores dom’s orders to not go out for the night and faces the punishment when they come home.

12. Uniform change turns into something naughty.

13. Reader runs into character, who happens to be their ex that they ghosted.

14. College AU where Reader is an RA and one of their residents is hell bent on getting them to break the rules.

15. Reader goes to the cops with evidence that character is stalking them.

16. Reader being hunted by character (or even more fun, characters!).

17. Pregnant sex

Remember to have fun!!!

Tagging some people who may be interested in participating (please do not feel obligated!!): @sherrybaby14 @shadowshamrock @greenappleeyes @mcudarklibrary @mcnegan @afanofmanystuffs

[mazhenfang]

I have been reading fanfics for over half of my life, but have never actually written one. Until now, apparently... Here's a completely unnecessary Arcana fanfic starring Valerius and Lucio, because they're assholes, and I love them.

Title: Red

Rating: Gen

Category: M/M

Fandom: Arcana

Relationships: Lucio/Valerius

Words: 1180

Summary:

‘Lucio has been very quiet so far…’ Valerius thought, a sudden dread coming over him.

Lucio finds a way to keep himself entertained during boring council meetings.

“... and the grain imports from Kahala are running late, again. Juno.” Valerius looked up from his notebook and indicated a young woman three seats down to left. She blushed when he caught her eyes, looking away quickly.

Valerius lifted an eyebrow at this reaction. Juno was a young apprentice on the court, whipsmart and logical. This reaction was… Not outside the bounds of possibilities.

“She’s your fan, Val,” Lucio had said in the dark hallway before they went into the meeting. Valerius had mentioned his plans to give her more responsibilities, and Lucio had gotten that look in his eyes before dragging him into the dark hall. Valerius had expected that he would need to shoo Lucio away, they were going to be late at this rate. But to his surprise, Lucio just leaned in close, kissing him gently on the cheek.

Valerius blushed slightly at the memory, barely managing to stop himself from looking in Lucio’s direction. He had work to do. And he needed to discourage whatever thoughts had reddened young Juno’s cheeks when he looked at her.

“Juno, pay attention,” he snapped, clapping his hands to get her attention. There, that stopped her blushing. “I need you to contact the dock master and find out where our grains are, do you understand?”

She nodded quietly, her reaction slow and the blush coming back before she looked down to focus intently on writing something in her notebook. Valerius sighed. Lucio was right, as he usually is in these matters. She was a “fan.” He would have to figure out a more effective way to get that idea out of her head. Later. There were still matters to handle.

He looked at his notes. “Lady Shara, there was a disturbance in the market square yesterday, and the guards are still trying to figure out the cause of it.” He looked up at Shara, and he was shocked to see her staring at him with a completely unashamed and entirely unprofessional smile. He blinked for a moment, not sure how to respond to that, and a bit uncomfortable. What the hell was going on, today?

He cleared his throat. “Right, please assign specialists as necessary to complete your duty, Lady…” He trailed off as he noticed Lord Machia look away from him, blushing. And Lord Anis, next to him, smiling knowingly at him. Valerius scanned around the whole table, looking at the faces of all the nobles and administrators sitting at the large table with him, and every single one of them was staring at him with some variation of blush or cheshire smile far too reminiscent of Lucio’s when he knew he had won…

‘Lucio has been very quiet so far…’ Valerius thought, a sudden dread coming over him. He turned quickly to Lucio sitting at his right. Sure enough, the man was lounging in his chair, feet on the table, hands behind his head. And he had that stupid /handsome/ smile on his face as he stared at Valerius. His smile widened as his eyes traveled slowly down Valerius’s face, stopping at his lips in a way that never failed to make Valerius’s cheeks heat up.

Wait a second… He looked closer at Lucio, his eyes narrowing as he realized there was something different about him, today. Something he hadn’t noticed before in the darkness of the hallway. He looked closer at Lucio’s lips. His very red lips.

Lucio blew him a kiss, and Valerius’s hand quickly came up to his cheek where Lucio had kissed him /so gently/ before the meeting. His hand came back with a streak of that distinctive pomegranate red. He could feel himself blushing deeply. He turned back to look at the collection of nobles and court administrators in front of him, and they all conveniently had somewhere else to look as he glared at all of them.

“We have work to do, here, people! Or am I the only person left in Vesuvia who knows how to be professional?” He picked up his notes and proceeded to hand out more duties and take more reports. If he gave shorter deadlines than usual, and assigned certain smiling nobles to more difficult tasks, no one dared complain.

...

Valerius stood, collecting his paperwork as the rest of the room left more quickly than usual after the end of the meeting. He felt a hand come to rest on his lower back, and he finally looked back at Lucio with a glare that he knew had lesser men shaking on the floor if he did it right. Lucio just smiled up at him. His lips were even redder; had he reapplied his lipstick?

“You messed it up, Val,” he said, a whine edging into his voice.

“Everyone was distracted, Lucio,” he said, an exasperated tone in his.

“That’s just cuz this shade of red looks really good on you, bestie. Of course they were distracted.”

Valerius rolled his eyes at the moniker, but he couldn’t help the small smile at the corner of his lips, or the annoying way his cheeks heated up. The endearment was silly, but he liked it, and Lucio knew it. “I’m going to have Nadia give the morning brief, tomorrow,” he said threateningly.

“Oh no, that just won’t do,” Lucio said, the hand on the small of Valerius’s back pulling him firmly down to sit on Lucio’s lap. Valerius yelped as he fell into Lucio’s arms, throwing his own around Lucio’s neck to catch himself as he lost his balance for a moment. Lucio just smiled at him, those red lips the center of Valerius’s vision as he stared, transfixed.

Fuck, he just gave Lucio what he wanted.

That smile widened, and Lucio leaned in, his forehead against Valerius's as his voice went low in a way that landed heavily in Valeriu’s stomach. “Noddy won’t do, at all, Val. This shade of red would clash with her complexion. But it looks perfect on you.” He closed that small gap, kissing Valerius on the lips, gently but firmly. He pulled back, and there was a predatory gleam in his eyes that Valerius didn’t get to see often, and god was it working for him. “I was right,” Lucio said, reaching up to run a finger feather light against Valerius’s lips. “This color is perfect on you.”

Valerius glared up at him, fully aware that his horrible blush ruined any pretense of anger. “If the color looks so good on me, then you better apply it liberally and quickly, or I swear to god, you will never get to put it on me again.”

Lucio’s pale silver eyes lit up like fireworks, his smile huge as he stood up in once smooth motion, carrying Valerius in his arms. “I know the perfect closet!” he said triumphantly as he practically danced to the door.

“You better not take me there, Lucio! Lucio! Bedroom!” Lucio just smiled. He won today, and Valerius absolutely didn’t care. When Lucio wins, Valerius usually does, too. He smiled, the dark red color on his lips matching him perfectly.