#me: sorry im not writing today!!

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Chat have we discussed drunk chess with cherik cause i just think. That would be the darnedest silliest thing they could do

[dipperscavern]

secondincommand!reader getting hurt shielding robb during battle.. rubbing my hands & feet together like a fly on the wall

word count: 1.4k.. how to say oopsie in 14 different languages

robb stark x f!secondincommand!reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜.・。.・゜✭・.

war was unpredictable. anything could happen, nothing was guaranteed — except one thing. war was bloody.

he hated every time you fought with him. robb knew why you did, of course. how can you command men you won’t even fight for? why should they listen to someone who’s afraid to get their hands dirty?

you weren’t budging on it. as queen in the north, you had to fight for the people who chose you to rule them, and for the lands they’d settle on/return to after the war. robb could barely focus when fighting, knowing you were out there, but he was king in the north. he had to stand strong & lead by example, so he did. & things went well enough.

until they didn’t.

robb always led the vanguard, constantly put wherever the fighting was thickest. you were usually commanding the archers, being better with a bow than you were with a sword. though skilled with both, you didn’t mind being with the archers, & theon sometimes joined you. robb felt a bit better having you away from where it was bloodiest, and you had to compromise somewhere.

the battle had gone as smoothly as battle could go so far, until you broke from the archers & took an arrow for robb.

luckily, the archer wasn’t a great shot, the arrow lodging in your upper thigh. but to robb, it didn’t matter where it settled — you were hurt.

the man who shot you was quickly cut down, & robb caught you from falling. his head swam, vision going fuzzy from the thought of you being hurt. he would’ve paused the whole goddamn war right then and there, if theon didnt wrap your arm around his shoulder and promise to get you to the medic tent.

he wanted to keep you with him, take you there himself, but theon argued-

“there’s still fighting to be done!”

& robb knew he was right. with a silent prayer to the old gods, he mounted once more, ignoring the pain in his chest as he drew his sword.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

robb’s head was swimming, filled with thoughts of only you. as soon as the fighting was done, he set off to find you. nothing could stop him, & anyone who was in his way knew to get the fuck out of it. he spotted theon escorting you back to you & his shared tent, one of your arms slinked around his shoulders. you had a bandage wrapped around your upper thigh, spots of blood showing through the fabric as you hobbled as best you could.

he ran over, entering the tent just as theon was gently setting you down on one of the chairs inside.

“thanks, theon-“

“what in seven hells was that? hm?”

you & theon’s heads turned to look at him, both of you caught by surprise at his tone. you swallowed, looking at theon — a silent plea to leave before robb’s anger turned to him. he looked at you both, before turning & walking out.

“that was me-“

“almost getting killed?”

“protecting my king.”

robb just blinks, looking at you for a second. he can’t understand how you aren’t as utterly distraught as he felt in that moment, catching you in his arms as you fell.

“y’can’t just do that! just- take arrows whenever you feel like it!”

this is the first time robb has yelled at you. ever. you know he doesn’t mean it — or at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself, to keep the tears at bay.

“i would do it again.”

robb huffs out a laugh, turning around and looking at the floor, before looking at you once more.

“this is war, okay? i don’t have time to watch you while ‘m puttin’ a sword through a man’s belly!”

“then don’t?!”

“looks like i have to!” he says, motioning to the bandage on your thigh.

you sigh, “this is war, robb. people get hurt.”

he only shakes his head.

“gods- i shouldn’t have to watch over you like a child. y’should be better than that..” he says, turning & leaving you alone in the tent.

and for once, you’re glad robb leaves. the tears rolling down your cheeks wouldve embarrassed you if he saw.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

you weren’t mad at him. by rights, you should be, & if you were, you knew nobody would blame you — but you weren’t.

you had prided yourself on being the person to fix everything. you were always the solution, not the problem. you hated the shame you felt, and even though you’d take the arrow for robb a hundred times more, you hated when he was mad at you.

still, you knew robb would come to you when he was ready. he rarely let his emotions get the best of him, & you knew how much stress he was under. you sat at the table, maps & books spread out in front of you. you were upset, and burying yourself in your work was a reasonable solution.

you stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, back aching from your hunched over form. you sighed, finally deciding to turn into the bed that’s been calling your name.

wandering hands & soft calls of your name woke you up.

you opened your eyes, brain still clouded with the fog of sleep. you woke up quickly, seeing robb’s form above you.

“robb?”

“hey, pretty.”

your brows furrowed, cheeks heating at his comment. “thought you were mad at me..”

he shook his head, gaze softening. “came to say ‘m sorry. can i?”

you nodded, tongue darting out to wet your lips. he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, your own parting to give him access.

“‘m sorry.”

he mumbled against your lips, kissing you again. his lips trailing down your neck, mumbled apologies spilling from his lips between kisses.

your breathing gets heavier as he trails down, removing your nightgown & his own clothes.

“when i saw y’ take that arrow.. gods, doe..”

he’s gentle. he always is, but more so than ever before. he’s taking his time, full on cherishing you. it’s clear in the gentleness of his calloused, war stricken hands. the very same hands that had taken the lives of lannister soldiers earlier that day were now caressing you, softly roaming your body & sliding into the slick place between your thighs.

“wanted to stop the damn war right then, right there. hold you close, never let you go.”

he feels you clench on his fingers at his words. hot pleasure shoots up your spine, the throbbing pain in your thigh now reduced to a forgotten ache. he wants to do this for the rest of his life, he thinks. take off the crown, bed you all day long. give you so much pleasure you forget a time where anything ever went wrong, fill your brain with thoughts of only him, him, him. he makes a silent promise to do so, once you both return to winterfell. reward you for all the times you’ve saved his arse out here.

“y’couldve.. wouldn’t have- mm! complained..”

he chuckles at your words, tilting his head to the side.

“yeah? woulda liked that?” you nod. “yeah, i know.. i know it, pretty.”

it’s not long after, you’re gushing on his fingers. back arching as you coat your inner thighs & his hand with your arousal. robb presses kisses to your belly as you catch your breath, hands coming to intertwine with his curls as he trails up your torso. little-

“‘m sorry.” & “forgive me? please?”

‘s are muttered between kisses, and you don’t have the heart to tell him you forgave him hours ago — before he even came back. he aligns his cock with your entrance, slowly pushing in as he wraps his hand around yours.

“didn’t mean anythin’ i said. not a word. i was- seven hells… i was so afraid.”

you’re so full. tears brim your waterline at his words, his hands, his cock — just robb. he thrusts, in & out, movements making you shutter as you’re hyper aware of everything. every touch, every slow drag of his hips. goosebumps trail along your body as you bite back a shudder, feeling utterly oh so good.

you ask him to kiss you, & he’s compliant to your every need, pressing his lips to yours. he’d fulfill your every request, go to the ends of the earth if you asked him to. what teasing he may normally shower you with is out of the window now, savoring every moment he has with you, as if you could vanish at any given point in time. watching you take that arrow reminded him of that. that you could.

he hits the right spot, over and over again, making you see stars. it’s not long before your grip on his hand tightens, walls clamping down on his cock as you cum. he follows suit, cumming with a groan that reverberates deep in his chest.

he cleans you with a damp washcloth, making sure your stitches didn’t tear either. you’re both laying on your sides, you facing his chest as his hand traces up and down your spine. the silence is comfortable.

“you forgive me?”

“i forgave you hours ago.”

your laughter echoes into the night.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜.・。.・゜✭・.

@cdragons @ghostinvenus (just lmk anytime u wanna stop being tagged!)

guys i went a little ham w this but oh well. posting smut on tumblr is soooo scary okay bye

[qprstobin]

Stobin Different First Meeting AU where they go to prom together. This was meant to be an au post and turned into a mini fic oops (written completely within a tumblr post so sorry for the poor quality)

(edit: realized I should link the fic I was inspired by for those who don't follow me and so didn't see me reblog it earlier)

Steve doesn't necessarily want to go to prom, right? Like yeah, he'd been imagining it for a while, but now that he was very, very single it just didn't have the same shine that it used to. And he really wasn't ready to start dating yet. However, he didn't want to just, not go to prom, and also knew it would seem really weird (and pretty fucking sad) if he didn't go.

Which leaves him in a conundrum.

He thought for a while that maybe he would go with one of the junior cheerleaders. While he didn't have any close friends anymore, he was still friendly with plenty of people. There were girls that wouldn't be going to prom unless they had a senior boyfriend - some he had even gone on dates with in the past who wouldn't think a single prom date meant that he wanted a new girlfriend.

However, he is pretty sure most of those girls would have... other expectations for the night. And honestly? He isn't quite sure that he was ready to get back on that horse either.

... Not that he thought women were horses.

He's pretty sure men are normally the ones called horses in riding metaphors.

Anyway.

That left him stuck. He couldn't just not go to prom, but also didn't want to wind up trapped on an actual date with someone. So who could he ask?

His solution ended up coming from an odd place.

Robin Buckley was... quite honestly, kind of a weirdo.

She was cute, in an alternative sort of way. She never took any of his shit (he wasn't completely sure she even liked him) but also reluctantly laughed at the snarky shit he said under his breath during their Film History class. And not in the fake giggly way girls did when they were flirting, but didn't actually care about what he was saying, just the way he said it. She actually seemed to think he was funny. Even if that revelation seemed to piss her off.

The only reason he was even in Film History that semester - and therefore, knew who she was - was for the easy A. He got to watch movies in class, and watch movies for homework. He was willing to plow through a couple of shitty essays in exchange for a class that he didn't feel like a complete idiot in.

(Well, he was pretty sure Robin thought he was an idiot about movies, but just because he had trouble remembering the names and shit of characters, didn't mean he couldn't analyze the themes, fuck you very much, Buckley.)

They had gotten assigned a project together early on, and it hadn't been completely terrible. She had quickly taken over doing most of the writing portions, but hadn't thought all of his ideas were terrible. By the end of the project he thought they were even sort of having fun together.

He'd always been one to try his luck, take a little more than he was given. So, after that assignment was over, he started sitting next to her in class, not wanting that easy, if sharp, camaraderie to end. Robin rolled her eyes at him and asked him what he thought he was doing the first time he did it, but she never sent him away.

They ended up chatting more and more during down times, passing notes to each other and sharing sly comments under their breaths during the movies. Steve often had trouble paying attention at school, his mind easily wandering away, and it was almost as bad during most movies, but Robin helped keep him on track.

The class turned into one that was done for the easy grade, a last ditch effort to improve his already hopeless GPA, and became one he actually enjoyed.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of going to prom with Robin. It made the night seem a little less unbearable.

He thought about making a big deal out of asking her, because he knows that's what girls (and even Nancy) had enjoyed for past dances. He quickly scrapped that idea, however, because not only did he not want to put pressure on her like that, but also she seemed to hate public spectacles like that.

Or at least when aimed at her, they both enjoyed watching drama unfold in the halls a bit too much to say she hated it completely.

So Steve waits until the end of the day, their film class being their last, to pull her into an empty classroom. She follows him without question in a show of trust he didn't realize she had in him. The notion warms him, and for some reason makes it more difficult to get the question out.

"Why do I feel like you're about to try to sell me drugs or something?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He squints at her in offense.

"Why is that your first assumption?!"

"I don't know! Why else are you pulling me out of the hallway all secretive like, making sure no one followed us, into an abandoned classroom," she asks, throwing her arms into the air.

"The classroom isn't abandoned, it's the end of the day! Also, who does drug deals on campus, that's just stupid?" He asks rhetorically, before waving one hand through the air, as if trying to erase the current thread of conversation. "That doesn't matter, you're distracting me."

"Well then, get on with it! Some of us have practice we need to get to."

"It's like talking to the kids," he mutters to himself, "Whatever. I wanted to ask - will you go to prom with me?"

That stops Robin up short. There's panic in her eyes now, though Steve isn't sure what exactly put it there. Was his reputation that bad that even band geeks are terrified of getting asked out by him?

"You want to go on a date? With me?" she asks slowly, disbelief coloring her voice, though it doesn't hide her unease.

"No, I want to go to prom with you," he scoffs, "Not go on a date with you."

"That is a date, dingus! The person you go to prom with is literally called your date!"

"Okay, sure, maybe, but I don't actually want to date you," he said, rolling his eyes at her.

Like, okay, he understood his reputation for being... what did she call him last week? A 'huge effing rake'? But that didn't mean that he was trying to date any girl that looked in his direction. A lot of girls looked in his direction. That was too many women, even for him.

Robin relaxes a little at that.

"Then why are you asking me to prom instead of someone you actually want to date?"

"Because!" he says, resisting the urge to flail his hands back at her. "I don't want to date anyone right now. Most people I ask are going to expect all these things from me - they're going to want dinner, and at the very least a kiss at the end of the night if not more, or another date the very next day. Because Steve Harrington is supposed to want those things!" He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair to calm himself. "But right now? I really don't."

"Well then, what does Steve the Hair Harrington actually want?" She had relaxed fully at this point, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"I want to go to prom with someone I consider a friend, someone who makes me laugh," he says after a moment of silence. "I want to dance badly to really corny pop music and drink just enough spiked punch that I don't remember how much I hate wearing any sort of tie. Then I want to go get milkshakes or go see a really trashy midnight horror flick, just because I'm having so much fun I don't want the night to end."

That small smile has grown into a reluctant grin on Robin's face. It makes her eyes shine and her freckles pop. Steve thought that if he was in a better place, if they had met at a different time, he could have fallen in love with her.

But they had met now instead, in some shitty public school elective course, and she was the closest thing he had to a friend that wasn't a snotty middle schooler.

"That sounds... like a lot of fun, actually," she says, mischief sparking on her face. "Who would've known the hidden depths hidden behind all that hair."

"Hey!" he protests half-heartedly, unable to keep a grin of his own off his face. "So what do you say? Wanna go to prom with me?"

"I guess," she sighs, acting like it was such a trial to go to prom with him. Him! But her next words make up for it. "Since we're friends, and all. However, I still expect you to buy me dinner, though you can keep the kiss goodnight to yourself."

Steve can't help the giddy laugh from spilling out of him. For the first time in weeks, he is actually looking forward to prom.

[superstarcadet]

"The flames persist and so do I." I SOMEHOW FINISHED DAY THREE OF @byler-week BEFORE THE DAY ENDED FOR ME?? Idk how but I did! A couple of my favorite panels of the week are in this set, so I hope you all enjoy it <3 Today's Prompts were: Defeated, Berry, Picking, Purple/Black color scheme Part One || Part Two

[qrichas]

thinking abt the happy pills arc again but mostly importantly at how many references of brazilian history was there during forevers lives specially the music... like the clothes ccforever was using the video of rio in the 50s the references to vargas era and bossa nova. i saw an artist making an animatic of him using "construção" by chico buarque which is one of my fav songs from the anti ditactorship era along with "panis et circenses" and my brain got rewired as well. gosh it was soooooo so good and so well done you can even make a video essay about it ccforever rlly poped off with that i never felt so hyped with an arc bc im an history nerd AND seeing brazilian history implemented on a multilingual server was just *chefs kiss*

[mochiwrites]

Would Grian and Scar in the secret husbands au ever want to have/adopt a kid/kids or are they more of “we are exclusively cat dads and nothing else”?

oh my god okay. okay.

so I am so very soft and wibbly over the thought of secret husbands adopting a kid. do I think they'd be responsible parents? considering who they are.... there'd certainly be a lot of chaos in the goodtimes household

a conversation I can see them having:

"scar... where's the kid?"

"the kid? huh?" "oh shoot they were just there a second ago!"

cue the chaos as they try to find their toddler child

but.... I don't know, I'm kind of tempted to say that they do end up adopting a kid.... I really love the thought of them having this small child and absolutely showering this kid in love. if I were to give them a kid in secret husbands, I think it'd go something like this:

xisuma calls a server meeting because he's detected some sort of anomaly that got past the server's protection. everyone goes searching for said anomaly, and it's scar and grian who actually find it. they find this kid who's scared and shaking and maybe... maybe their eyes flash purple and grian immediately knows what's going on. especially since he did the same exact thing himself a few years ago.

scar is the one who manages to reach out to the kid because he's scar and while he's working on calming the kid down, grian's messaging the server to explain the situation. they head back to spawn, scar holding a shaking child in his arms and everyone has. no idea what to do with this development

grian is, well, not quite hovering but he's certainly keeping his eyes focused on this kid, and he's the first to speak up in favor of keeping the kid on the server. scar of course agrees, and grian is determined to get everyone to agree to let the kid stay. and well. everyone agrees it's best for the kid to stay with scar and grian since they're the most... equipped to help

.....having written that out, yeah. yeah I want this to be canon to the au, scar and grian are in their parenthood arc !!!!!!

now, if this happens before or after the server finds out they're married.... that's the question...... it'd be really funny if part of the reasoning for giving scar and grian the kid is like "oh if they're acting as a little family then surely scar and grian will finally get together!!!" also bonus points if the kid at a later points asks the two of them why other people on the server think they're not together and scar and grian get the kid in on their plan LMAO

[capricores]

i love being friends with earth sign placements (sun/moon/asc/venus) so much. you will not find better friends. the way they're so caring, attentive, nurturing, kind-hearted?! the fact that they initiate and plan things for and with you?! the way they listen so well and give amazing yet gentle advice?! the way they remember all the little things about you and your interests and give the most thoughtful gifts and remind you in small ways that they remember everything about you?! i hope every earth sign placement is having a great day and knows just how positively impactful they are in their friend's lives!!!!!! we love you!!!!

[mediumgayitalian]

previous chapter

———

The sunlight disorients him.

Usually, he wakes to a blaring alarm. If he has no alarm set, nothing planned for the day, he wakes when he cannot physically stand the taste of his own breath anymore, stumbling out of bed and ambling like a zombie for the nearest toothbrush. (On rare, rare occasions, he wakes to humming – low, drawling, lilting, floating around his darkened room, brightening it. He dreams about those mornings.)

He cannot remember the last time he woke to gentle sun.

Stretching, he takes a minute to catalogue the space as he wakes up, noticing the light curtains over wide windows, small TV tucked in between two double beds, and a desk, larger than he would have expected, taking up the far right corner.

Will is nowhere to be found.

“Jogging, mebbe,” Nico mumbles to himself; tiny, forgotten accent slipping out before he can stop it. Gingerly, he peels off the blankets and pads to the bathroom. Will’s blue-capped toothbrush sits next to the sink, quelling Nico’s ridiculous anxiety that Will, actually, has never been here at all, and Nico dreamed this whole thing up. He smiles slightly at the dorky stickers plastered all over the handle, colour mostly worn away, and the watch forgotten next to the soap dispenser. 

He hears a heavy door open and shut, pausing to make out quiet footsteps over the running water. Quickly rinsing the suds off his face, he towels off and steps back out into the hotel room, watching his friend.

Will has his back turned, hunched over the desk. He wears a hoodie, blue with big white clouds all over it – his favourite – and, of course, horrible cargo shorts. Nico counts seven pockets, and that’s just what he can see from the back. There is a book shoved in two of them, keys hanging out of a third, and an apple bulging from the pocket near his hip.

“Morning.”

Will jumps, whirling around. 

“You scared the shit outta me!”

“Sorry,” Nico says, not sorry. He’s grinning. “Were you out for a run?”

“I was out for a run hours ago, yes. It’s, like, ten-thirty, dude. You’ve been sleeping for eight hundred years.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” They’ve had this argument more times than he can physically count, he refuses to have it again when he doesn’t have the upper hand. He’ll bring it up again when Will’s sleepy again at nine o’clock. “Where were you?”

Will steps to the side, revealing three separate heaping plates of food on the desk, piled high with eggs, toast, a muffin, bacon, and, of course, an entire plate devoted to fruit. Nico descends upon it like a swarm of seagulls upon a terrorized child’s ice cream cone – with fury, insatiable hunger, and endless hubris. He makes sure to ignore the fruit.

Five minutes later, he’s satiated enough to turn a percentage of his attention away from the food. He spins the desk chair halfway to face Will, instead, curled up on the bed with one knee pulled to his chest, watching him fondly.

“How many times did you almost drop this on the way up?” he asks around a mouthful of bacon.

Will’s smile drops, eyes narrowing. “Shut up.”

“Four floors, and there’s a good chance you took the stairs to keep the elevators for ‘someone who needs them more’, so –”

“I hate you.”

“– I’m guessing one time per flight of stairs? Oh, wait, there are three plates, definitely more –”

“I’m never doing anything nice for you ever again.”

“– and you have a new band-aid on your knee, so you definitely tripped and dropped it at least once.” He pops the last of the bacon in his mouth, smiling wickedly. “Twice? Three times? If you don’t tell me I’m going to assume six and move on.”

Will’s glare intensifies. He mumbles something.

“Hm?”

He mumbles again. Nico doesn’t even pretend not to be delighted. He knows the smile on his face is wide enough to make him look deranged, he simply doesn’t care. Opportunities to press Will’s buttons this beautiful do not show up every day. He must treasure them.

“Didn’t catch that.”

“Hadtogoback.”

“Gonna have to speak up, bud.”

“I had to go back!” Will explodes, hands thrown in the air. “I fuckin’ – I dropped the stupid plates, the first time, so I had to fuckin’ – clean it up and – two stupid trips, you jerk, you better appreciate this –”

Nico almost bites through his lip. “You dropped it?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Will says defensively. “I was concentrating really hard but –”

Nico loses it.

“– my shoe got caught on the last step and I didn’t have any hands to catch myself.” He scowls. “Three people saw.”

He can’t breathe. There are genuine, actual tears streaming down his face, burn in his eyes almost as bad as the burn in his lungs, the ache in his belly. He wraps his shaking arms around himself in an attempt to hold himself together, laughing so hard he feels like his muscles might actually rip themselves off his bones. Every time he tries to calm down, he pictures Will, in his dorky flip-flops, egg in his hair, half a muffin crushed on his cheek, bright red, sprawled on the ground, food everywhere. If he could think of literally anything else, he’d be worried about his heart straight-up failing. 

“I hate you. Actually.”

“I’m – oh my God,” he wheezes. He manages, finally, to get an actual breath in, desperately trying to think of literally anything else to calm down. Fucking – bumper to bumper traffic. Bedbugs. His father’s frowning face. That always works. “Holy shit, Will.”

“I should’ve just woken your ungrateful ass up.”

“Probably.” He flicks a grape at him, smiling. Will catches it in his mouth, rolling his eyes but smiling back. “Glad you didn’t.”

“Whatever.”

Nico finishes the rest of his breakfast in relative peace, managing to turn away if his mouth threatens to betray the tentative truce they’ve negotiated. He even eats one entire peach when Will starts pelting him with tiny hotel soap bottles and listing side effects of cholesterol-induced heart disease.

The second he finishes the last bite, Will orders him to clear off the desk. Nico mutters about bossiness and how Will is most definitely not in charge of him, doing as he asks. When he comes back – took him a hot second to shove the paper plates into a small enough ball to fit in the garbage can – Will has dragged the desk over to the bed, sitting criss-cross next to it, examining one of the many papers he has covering it.

“So,” he says, gesturing next to him. Nico dutifully sits, peering at the various maps and markings. “We gotta plan part two.”

“Didn’t we already do this?” Nico asks. “Back at Dunkin’s?”

“Not this far. I wanted to Preserve the Spontaneous Road Trip Spirit.” Nico can hear the capitalization.

“So, planning, then.”

“Yes, exactly.”

Nico smiles. “Brief me, captain.”

Will jumps right in, pointing and gesturing and every once and a while catching Nico’s eye to ask, right? Sound good?

Nico just watches him. 

The midday sun shines directly in his face, catching and reflecting on his pale eyelashes, making his eyes go squinty. His excitement is obvious, in his chattering, his waving hands, his bouncing curls; every part of him moving. Even his stupid cargo shorts look endearing, every other pocket bulging, filled absentmindedly with slips of paper or pens or bandaids or granola bars. Nico watches him and feels he might burst.

“You’re not listening,” Will accuses.

Nico jumps back into focus. “Yes I am.”

“What’d I just say?”

“‘You’re not listening’.”

WIll cracks a smile. “You’re not funny.”

“Run over that again,” Nico answers, and grins devilishly when Will does. Not funny his ass.

He listens, though, through Will’s second explanation. It’s not too hard – Will’s always been organised. The wide penciled circle around their location in Atlanta, outlining the area they can drive before their next fuel stop, is pretty wide. But the options are limited, in Nico’s opinion – while he’s sure there is indeed something to do in South Carolina, there’s nothing to do for him, specifically. He’s cool with skipping it.

“There is one place we can go,” Will says. His voice has gone oddly quiet, and after at minute he glances over at Nico, like he’s waiting for his permission.

“Your road trip, dude,” he murmurs, nudging their shoulders together. “I’ll even go to South Carolina if you want to, but no promises that I won’t complain about it.”

That, thankfully, draws a huff out of him, some of the tenseness fading from his frame. 

“South Carolina is beautiful, you know.”

“Says the boy who is currently visiting his third state ever.”

“...Touché.” He taps his pencil on the map, pink eraser thunking somewhere in the Bermuda triangle. “I was thinking – we could try Nashville? Music Row, or Broadway?”

Nico groans. “Oh, of course you wanna go hang out with all the goddamn hillbillies, you fuckin’ country boy –”

“It’s good music!”

Nico groans louder. Secretly, though, he watches his friend out of the corner of his eye, watches as his shoulders slump, relieved, and he knows he’ll spend as long as he needs in lasso-slingin’ Tennessee, following Will in and out of – barns and ranches and cowboy boot shops, probably. Are saloons still a thing?

He has a feeling that there is more to Will’s hesitance than a fear about being judged for his Marty Robbins obsession. If Tennessee is where he’s gonna get answers – well. He’ll brave the goddamn sea of cowboy hats.

A knock at the door startles them both. A voice calls hesitantly through the door: “Mr. di Angelo?”

“Wrong door, probably,” Will whispers after a moment. He looks to Nico. “Right?”

There’s another knock. “Mr. di Angelo?” 

“Yeah.” Nico rolls of the bed, landing on the floor with a grunt. “Another room with a Mr. di Angelo.”

He creeps towards the door, keeping low as if whoever’s outside can see him. After a moment, the bed creaks, and Will’s quiet footsteps pad behind him. 

“You think it’s room service?” Will whispers, plastered to the opposite side of the door. Even ducking, his hair brushes the edge of the peephole. 

Nico shoves his head down, pinching him when he squawks. “Be quiet, tall person, I need to see.”

“Get a stepstool then, jerk! Stop using my neck as a lever!”

“What part of be quiet are you missing! God!”

“Mr. di Angelo, please open the door.”

The voice on the other side of the door sounds amused. Face flaming, Nico shoves Will somewhere behind him, still bitching, and swings open the door. 

“Good afternoon,” says the man in the hallway. He’s dressed very smartly in a tailored black suit, nametag reading Eric. “Are you Mr. di Angelo?”

Nico clears his throat, trying to stand taller. “That’s me.”

“Good. I’m with Hotel Administration. We received a fax for you this morning?” He hands Nico a manilla folder. “First page says confidential, so we put it in the envelope. We tried to call this morning but didn’t get any response.”

Vaguely, Nico remembers a ringing phone. He also remembers yanking the plug out of the wall in sleep-deprived rage.

Oops.

Ignoring Will’s snickering, Nico thanks the man, closing the door and sitting on the nearest bed. Will scooches over to make room for him, tossing and catching a pillow. Nico leans back against the headboard, crossing his leg over Will’s.

“What’s in the envelope?”

“Checking now.”

The envelope is the cheap kind you get in a box of fifty; speckled brown, thin, machine-cut. It’s not sealed and so Nico flips it open easily, sliding out a small stack of papers. The first is a huge CONFIDENTIAL, printed diagonally across otherwise blank paper. The second is a bank statement. 

Nico shoots upright.

“What? Nico, what’s –”

“Mr. di Angelo, we regret to lose your business,’” Nico recites in a shaking voice, “‘but appreciate your time with us and wish you all the best with your future banking.’”

Frantically, he scans the document again. Successful cancellation. Expedited closure date. Transferred affairs to –

– parent account. 

“–co? Nico? Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

The air pushes out of Nico’s lungs like a crushed balloon. “Fuck.”

“Nico.” Warm hands press on his bloodless cheeks, fingers sliding in his hair. “Nico, look at me.”

He gasps. Will squeezes gently, eyes dark and stern and kind, thumbs callus-rough and dragging across his cheekbones.

“Good. Again. There you go, you got it.” 

Nico grabs his wrists when he tries to pull away. Will takes the hint, sliding his hands under Nico’s free one and knocking their shoulders together.

“What’s wrong, Nico?” 

Instead of answering, Nico sets the papers on the bed between them. Will squints, and for a second Nico prays that he’s wrong, that he’s mixed up the words. That it doesn’t say what it knows it does.

Then Will inhales, quick and sharp, and the hope is dashed.

“Your card…”

“Next page,” Nico says softly.

Niccolò,

The papers rustle as Will flips them, and this one he takes much longer to read. 

Vorrei sapere che ho fermato un caso di frode alla radice.

After a minute, he holds it out, shaking his head.

Un criminale ha rubato la tua carta di credito, e l’ha usata per comprare una stanza d’albergo in Georgia. Qualche spacciatore, non ci sono dubbi.

“It’s a little formal, I can’t –”

Ho disattivato la carta, naturalmente. Ti darò quella nuova appena ti vedrò.

Nico takes the scanned letter. Vaguely, he registers Will’s hands brushing up his arms as they move two wrap around his face again, this time forcing his jaw to unclench.

“Power play,” Nico snarls. His clenched fingers wrinkle the pulpy paper.  “He knows exactly where I am. If he wanted to drag me home, he could drag me by the fucking –”

“But instead he’s forcing you to call him,” Will says softly. “Oh, Nico, I’m so sorry.”

The hands drop from his face again. It knocks the cloudiness right out of Nico’s head, and he snaps up, frowning at Will’s crooking fingers, the bitten lips. He won’t meet Nico’s eyes.

“Why are you sorry my father’s being a haughty jackass who suddenly cares what I do with my time?”

“And his money.” Will picks up the bank statement, reading over it again, and again, like it might change. Like Nico’s credit card will magically become un-cancelled, like they will suddenly become un-stranded. “This whole stupid thing is my fault. I never should have dragged you into it, Neeks, I’m so –”

“If you apologise again I’m going to push you off the bed.”

“– sorry.” 

“Will.” Nico snatches back the statement, shaking his head. He waits until blue eyes meet his then smiles, as reassuringly as he can with such a pit in his stomach. “My father is –” He sighs. “It’s not about the money. You know he doesn’t care about the money.”

Will shrugs. It’s true – Nico has made dumber purchases. When he was twelve, he bought a trampoline, just to see if his father would say anything. Fifteen, marble statue. Sixteen, a car.

Then he stopped trying.

“How far can we go, on the gas we have? How many miles?”

Will shrugs. “Three and a half hours? Four, if we push it?”

“And on a full tank of gas?”

“Almost six.”

“And then we’re stuck.”

“And then we’re stuck, yeah. Unless you got Greyhound money hidden somewhere.”

Nico sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “That’s what he wants, Will. He doesn’t care about the – about the stupid money. He wants me. He wants me to ask, rather, to pick up a phone and beg him to come get us ‘cause we have no other options. He wants me to admit I need his help.”

The first time he ran away, he’d had to avoid every cop car. He knew he was being looked for, he saw his own face plastered on news screens. It had only been a matter of time. The second attempt was – easier. Much easier. He’d hardly even had to hide his face. By the third time, he’d waited a week, waited almost a month, before he was cold and hungry and walked to the nearest social services building himself. The car ride home, the humiliation so potent he could taste the bitterness of it, had made the cold, rainy nights with nothing but the same ratty hoodie he’d worn when he left worth it. He swore he’d never subject himself to that again. 

And yet here he is. 

Out of options. 

“You know what? No.” In a swift, unstoppable movement, Will snatches the stack of papers, ripping them into four pieces faster than Nico can reach an arm out to stop him. “We’re not doing this.”

“Will – what –”

He throws himself off the bed, stomping over to his backpack. A folded pair of socks goes flying over his shoulder, a book hits the ground with a heavy thunk. His muttering grows louder, cursing interspersed between every word.

“What are you –”

“We are not dealing with this right now.” With a frustrated finally, Will yanks a bag of something out of his backpack, stomping back towards the bed. He throws a Ziploc bag onto the duvet, and it bounces once, twice, three times before splitting open and spilling quarters everywhere.

“What the hell is –”

“You already payed for the room, right?”

Nico snaps his jaw shut. “Yes.”

“And it’s Saturday.”

“I – it is, yeah.”

“Not a business day.”

“No.”

“Well.” Will nods. “Bank’s closed. Hotel can’t process anything, and they have no reason to suspect your card, which worked just fine last night, is gonna bounce. We’ve got a day of breathing room, at least, and I don’t want to think about it.”

He holds up a hand when Nico starts to argue, grim set to his mouth giving way to something a little sharper, a little more dangerous. 

“We might not be old enough to gamble, but when you’re in Atlanta, you do as the Atlantians do.” He meets Nico’s eye, grinning. “You still any good Street Fighters?”

———

next chapter

[layraket]

Day 26 - Nightmares

Character(s): Four and Wolfie (Twilight) (LU)

Words: 555

Summary: Twilight is no stranger to dealing with the boys having nightmares, but never it was about a mirror

Whump scale: 1 (see the full scale here)

Warnings: Mention of suspected character death (he's just chilling in his shadow)

Part 2 in Day 30

-

Patrolling as Wolfie was a routine that he adopted some time ago already, making sure that no monsters were hiding behind bushes and detecting them in time.

Although, that was his side job. His main one was to attend to the chain’s bad dreams.

He himself suffered with them, but the others had their own set of bad experiences that still haunted them even in their sleep. Sometimes Twilight heard things that they would never tell to a hylian.

This night he already did his rounds, they all already sleeping and the one for the shift being Time he didn’t needed to worry about someone learning that he was the wolf, so he slipped from Wild’s side and was going to change back far from camp.

A whisper made him stop. Turning to see who it was he found the smithy, his face being visible on Legend’s mirror shield which was next to him from the maintenance that he was giving it some hours ago.

With mind made, Twilight trotted towards Four, sitting next to him and bringing his snout to softly touch his head. He seemed very awake for him.

“I’m sorry…” He repeated in whispers, staring at his reflection in the shield. There was something weird about this.

Twilight didn’t wanted to wake up the others, so he decided that the shield was the problem. He grabbed it with his mouth, moving it so Four couldn’t be seeing it anymore and letting it on the grass instead leaning on their bags. If the veteran asked it was being a bother.  

When he turned to look again towards Four, he was staring into nothing, his eyes of an intense purple, almost if they were shining in the dark.

Maybe a nightmare, but it was weird, he didn’t seem like he was sleeping, maybe he was part of the people who slept with their eyes open, who knows.

He ruffled his hair with his snout, finally making him to wake up—was he sleeping? He wasn’t sure— and look at him.

“Oh, Wolfie…” He wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a salute or just disappointment, but he will not complain.

He slopped next to the smith, being big enough to act like a sofa for him right now. Four understood the signal and leaned into him, getting comfortable on his thick fur.

“I thought you were someone else… You know, the reflection played a trick on me, or something like that” Twilight felt like this wasn’t for him to hear, but there was no way that he could say this to him without waking up the others.

“Mirrors, while in the dark, might be able to reflect something that is usually behind us, ya know?” His hears perked up at that “I thought I lost him again, and then he came back through the mirror, but I guess I’m just tired” A laugh without humor came out of him.

He rested his head on Four’s lap, giving a silent comfort that he usually gave after a bad nightmare, waking up from these would make someone confused of his surroundings, he knew that well.

“Thanks, Twi” The smithy’s hands petted his head, glad to find no teeth threatening him.

He understands, not the complete situation or who was Four talking about, but he understands.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

hi!!!! kicks my feet id like to see ur wiwi first death thoughts pls

- @suckinitup

MY BELOVED MUTUAL SUCKINITUP HOW ARE YOU. HEAD IN HANDS. I LOVE WILLIAM WISP. FUCK. i think abt him constantly but i almost never write down my thoughts because if i think abt him for too long i make myself sick. like fr. i love him too much. ouuguhghhg going to just straight copy paste this under a cut because it is SO LONG sorry for any typos or sentences that sound weird out of context bc these were originally discord messages:

ohhhhhhh wiwi first death. god . i have so many fucking emotions about wiwi first death. before i get into this im going to say fork found in kitchen to myself because so much of how i view wiwi comes from a VERY SPECIFIC type of dp fanon that it would take me 12 years to actually explain in detail so im gonna say just trust me and understand that william wisp is literally just a fuckign. walmart rebrand of a type of danny characterization i really wish people would just oc-ify (thank you charlie slimecicle for doing this for me)

okayyyyyy okay okay okay. i love there being like. a STARK fucking difference between william before the fall and william after the fall. william before the fall was so much... brighter. in every sense of the word. he looks ALIVE because he is! hes just a . regular fuckign 16 yr old boy. that weird kid in your math class. and yeah he has . suuuuper undiagnosed untreated depression but like its a small rural town thats normal i think. hes got his little group of friends to spend hours with going on cool hikes and reading about the paranormal at the library and sitting in circles talking about conspiracy theories and things. i think UPP is. awesome. i hesitate to get too attached to them in headcanon world just because i dont want bizly to then introduce us to them in s3 and i have to reframe my whole mindset . whatever. i have vague ideas of who they are but the important bit is like. i just think theyre really good friends. and they spend a lot of time together. and william is kind of their defacto leader because... he is the only one of them who actually has truesight. they all believe in ghosts and monsters and stuff but william is the only one who can actually SEE THEM. like. constantly. and thats a lot. and even though they believe him they dont really like.... understand. which kind of makes william feel disconnected from basically everyone around him at all times. i dont think truesight is probably a well-known thing?? so when he was little and started crying to his parents about monsters they thought he just had bad night terrors and then he just................. hes 16 now and still talks about it (less so now, hes learned the horrors of middle- and hihg-school Shame and not to be Super Weird All The Time) so its more like. hmm theres something Wrong here but we dont know what and we dont know how to help. other people (you included ros) have said this better than me but goddddd you knowww the dynamic btwn william and his parents is rough. they love him! so much! and they want to support him! and william loves them too! but they dont GET IT they dont UNDERSTAND and its like. you know what i mean. when you get a mental health diagnosis and suddently everyone is treating you like youre made of glass and nobody really knows what to say around you anymore or whatever. you know what i mean. that.

ANYWAY ALL THIS IS FUCKING. PREAMBLE. GOD. the fall. man. i think there is a STRICT UPP rule of "dont go into the whispering woods alone" and thats the case for the ENTIRETY of their friendship. DONT go into the woods alone. william knows exactly what kind of shit lives in the woods and he knows hes the only one that can reliably see them and he doesnt want anyone to get hurt. MINIMUM of two members for whispering woods investigations. (this is not a town rule or anything. i think the adults of deadwood are aware that its a weird place but it all gets brushed off like . aha everywhere has quirks! and the UPP are like. the conspiracy kids that know the Real Stuff going on. very..... house of anubis is the closest Real Media vibe i can think of rn. UPP pre-fall is like the closest u will get to . scooby doo style monster of the week shenanigans that arent really super serious because theyre safe as they can be about it! bunch of kids doing a ouija board. you know how it is)

uhhhhhhh and then william starts acting weird! i think all of them are on a whispering woods investigation together and theyre all walking together and then william starts lagging behind, staring out at something none of them can see, kind of like. zoned out. tranfixed. and when theyre like "will what do you see?" he shakes his head and snaps out of it like. huh? what? nothing lets keep walking. (it was a wisp btw. obviously) and there are a couple more incidents of him doing this same thing on that one hike until eventually they decide to call it because theyre not finding anything else and tbh william youre kind of freaking us out here. will you be okay? and hes like yeah of course i will guys its nothing i swear. and then they all go home.

and thennnn without telling anyone a couple days later, william goes on a walk in the woods alone. he broke his OWN rule . on that hike he saw wisps and they were just too far away to see clearly off in the distance between the trees but he just Kept Seeing Them and the curiosity was just nagging and nagging away in his brain so much he had to know what they were (thats wisp magic babyyyy you know the mythology around them i dont need to explain that to you) . (and also there is a fair amount of. lack of self preservation because of the previously mentioned untreated unmanaged depression but if i start talking about that in detail i will overshare and also be soooooo emo forreal. know that that is an EXTREMELY important part of this decision but im also going with a little more of the teen mystery angle with this rn. bloody gory mental illness is for after he falls) so he packed his monster investigation backpack and he just. left. didnt even tell his parents he was going he just walked out of the house after school and went into the woods. and he saw the wisps again, but now that he was alone they were Closer and Brighter and they would move whenever he got close and then there was a trail of them ! like they were Leading him somewhere

and i think with some of the monsters he sees he can feel whetehr or not theyre out to hurt him . and the wisps dont feel like that. they feel... well. cold,becaue theyre ghosts, but also warm at the same time? inviting. they dont want to hurt him (they do) they just want to show him something and william "too curious for his own good" wisp wants to know what that thing is! i think he knows the woods really really well because he spends a lot of time out there. so somewhere far away in the back of his mind he kind of knows what theyre leading him toward. but he still jsut Has To Know, so he keeps jogging, keeps hopping over fallen logs and around low branches and theres always a little blue flame juuuuust out of reach so he keeps going . and then he gets to the cliff. its like a full on. burst out of the trees there is a wisp juuuust on the edge where the ground falls away. i think he trips on a root and falls flat on his stomach before he can completely just run off. it gives him a second to catch his breath, to look out and See where he is. for things to kind of come crashing down on him. if he hadnt tripped he wouldve run right off the edge and fallen and it was close enough of a near death experience for it to scare him. but the wisp is still there, and its the biggest brightest one hes seen yet and if he looks around he would see it looks like the entire forest behind him is glowing with tiny blue fires like theyre all watching him. i dont think hes really. thinking coherent thoughts at this point he just kind of. realizes now that hes out here he doesnt really want to go home. he doesnt want to go back to school, doesnt want to eat lunch in the bathroom and think about his brothers empty bedroom across the hall and have his parents look at him with such a weird mix of love and awkward pity and he knows his friends say they believe him but he can see it in their eyes sometimes that the things he says scares them and he really just has been a freak his whole life.... and he realizes as hes thinking all of this he's gotten to his feet and walked toward the wisp on the edge of the cliff. and hes just standing there feet on the very edge staring at it. its floated away now, hanging over the drop at eye level with him but its probably still close enough he could just... reach out.... and try to grab it...... and his feet slip on the rocks and JUST as he closes his hand around the wisp it almost feels like something pushes him (probably just the wind.. right?) and he falls.

he does Not remember hitting the bottom thank god. he remembers falling, and falling, and in the fall he realized he was still holding the wisp he grabbed in his hand and so he pulled it close to his chest as he fell and it almost felt like it was burning him but it was *cold* and .. then he woke up! he woke up in a misty foggy field in what looked to be the middle of the night but if he looks at the sky too long it looks *weird* its just black and empty and there are weird bluish swirls in it that could be clouds but look different, and there are trees in the distance but whenever he tries to walk toward them it feels like theyre moving the same distance away so it never really feels like hes getting anywhere.. and he trips over what he thinks is a rock and lands in the foggy grass and looks behind him and realizes *oh my god thats a gravestone-* and then he wakes up again, for real this time !!! (<< that scene is like. thats His Island. thats his lair or whatever. remember when mal first took him to the spirit world and they were in the graveyard and mal told him that was his. im going with dp style spirit world lairs and this one is williams. hear me out)

aaand. when he wakes up for real. he is at. the bottom of the cliff. EVERYTHING hurts. everything hurts so fucking badly but also everything is like... weirdly numb? and he doesnt really remember that weird dream with the fog and the trees and the grave its all kind of fading as he wakes up more and more and ... his hands are empty hes not holding the wisp anymore. he doesnt know how much time has passed. was any of that even real or did he just have some kind of nervous breakdown and jump off a fuckign cliff? i think he fucking sits there and cries about it for a loooooong time. and everythihng hurts but its gonna start getting dark soon he NEEDS to go home before it gets dark, his parents will start to worry about him and he doesnt want to do that to them. also he might need to get to a hospital or something but hey! he can move! he can stand up and walk! so he must not have any broken bones or anything he just. is bruised and sore probably. and so he. sooooo slowly. so slowly. makes his way back up the cliff (theres. a path. he doesnt have to climb i promise) and back home. alone. no wisps or anything, just william alone with his thoughts. which is . goddd its bad. thats why it takes him so long. ohhh my god what am i even gonna fucking say when i get there. hi mom and dad sorry i needed to clear my head and follow some weird ghosts and in the process i tried to kill myself and it didnt work? fuck?

so by the time he gets home... huh. the door is locked thats weird. its not fully dark yet and his parents know he stays out late with his friends a lot of the time so they usually leave the door unlocked for him. so he knocks. and his mom answers the door and takes one look at him and just fucking breaks down into tears. and so his dad comes in from around the corner to see whats going on and he starts crying too. and william is so. freaked out by this. guys whats wrong what happened. turns out he has been missing for. two weeks. nobody knew where he was or what happened and the woods are alive and weird and anyone who went out in a search part just ended up getting lost themselves and came back like an hour later with nothing. they thought he was dead. (which. i mean. he was. but like. not in the way they thought). so theres this big huge emotional family group hug or whatever with william all dirty with leaves and twigs in his hair and torn clothes and mud on his hands and feet and his mom and dad are just like oh thank god youre alive thank god youre home what happened to you and... man. euguhhhhahghhhh. emo. sorry. god. head in hands .

i thiiink. he kind of ends up telling them what happened. he leaves out the wisps though. his watered down version is.. i just needed to clear my head, i went out into the woods, i got lost, i tripped and fell. (remember how william downplays it for dakota when he asks. i tripped and fell) he doesnt tell them about the wisps but like. that almost makes it worse becuase they KNOW about his bad mental health even if they dont fully understand it and.... this version makes it sound suspiciously way more like it was just a direct suicide attempt. which. william IMMEDIATELY regrets as soon as it leaves his mouth. but thats his story now. so everything kind of... goes back to normal? normal ish??? as nrmal as they can i fucking guess?? for a couple days and he has to go back to school and. god it fucking sucks. gossip . you know how it is. hey that kid tried to kill himself and got lost in the woods for two weeks what a weirdo he freaks everyone out . that kind of stuff. so hes more isolated than EVER and even his friends wont really talk to him although theyre more... sad. than anything else. they just dont really know what to say. theyre teenagers. idk. uhhhhhh then one day he reallyreallly REALLY doesnt want to be somewhere so he hides in the bathroom and.. doesnt realize it at first but he goes invisible. and its not until a couple other kids come in and leave and dont acknowledge him at all that he notices something is weird (he feels bone chillignly cold but like. its a shitty old school building in the very beginnings of winter of course its gonna be cold) and he looks in the mirror and realizes he cant see himself. and after that more and more of his powers kind of. slowly manifest? and he is VERY bad at controlling them and he plans not to tell anyone at first (hes already enough of a freak) until one day his dad finds him like. halfway through the floor in his bedroom and its this . kind of funny ridicuous but also really scary moment. and william has a realization at some point like. oh. i think i *died*. and auughhghg. i think thats all i ahve for now. but . man. when i tell you i think about this soo fucking much man.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[forlorn-crows]

Ooooooo Crow u wanna write about Mist milking Zeph's cute little tits soooooo bad

-Void

i hate you for ever suggesting that 1) zephyr has little titties and 2) they wreak havoc on the others by making them leak

what do you get when you put a strict top and a dom in the same room? you get a very soup-brained air ghoul who absolutely "hates" losing to daddy mist and her clever fingers

they/them zephyr (cock for their anatomy) and she/her intersex mist (cock/cunt for hers, though only the cock is mentioned here). good ole lactation kink w/a spicy side of Daddy mist ahead

If you asked Zephyr if they liked to be broken, taken down to studs, they'd vehemently deny it. Very few things—and very few ghouls—can ruffle their feathers and challenge that cool, unbothered facade that graces their features. If they’re ever submitting, it’s their idea, through and through. They swear it. 

Mist is the anomaly. 

Zephyr doesn’t know how she gets them to play (and lose) her little games. They’ll swear up and down they hate her dirty talk, her degradation, hate the way she can get their eyes to roll from just a little pinch to their nipples, hate how she makes their brain go fuzzy by simply grinding their cocks together. Somehow, she never fails to break them down to the barest of bones—and suck out the marrow while she’s at it. 

They hate it. You have to believe them. 

“You like being daddy’s little baby, don’t you?” Mist coos at them now, straddling their lap with them bullied straight-backed against the headboard. Tiny hands roaming all over their neck, their chest. Pressing and prodding at all the spots that somehow make them incapable of forming coherent thoughts. 

Zephyr makes some unintelligible protest, a pink blush blooming on their cheeks. 

“I think you do,” Mist answers for them. “You don’t have to pretend for me, hm?” She smooths her thumb across their lips, smirking when they part easily. “There you are, no need for scowling. Daddy’ll make it better.”

Her hands float back down to their tits, puffy and full and begging for attention. Mist had pulled them into her room when she noticed the twin spots on their t-shirt this morning, even through the black fabric. She had licked her fangs, giving them her signature predatory look that meant You’re mine.

Mist tweaks one of their nipples, sighing happily when a drop of fluid leaks out and drips onto their pants. She pinches the other, wringing a drop out of that one too. 

“Takes nothing to get you to leak, does it, little bird?” The water ghoulette cups their swollen chest with both hands, framing pert nipples between her thumb and pointer fingers. Squeezing against the build up of pressure just so, just until that sweet milk flows out and dribbles over her hands. 

“Mist,” Zephyr groans, wringing their hands into the sheets. “Lucifer, oh.”

She echoes their noise with an empathetic, slightly exaggerated one of her own. “So wet, baby. Just like a water ghoul,” she tuts. 

Their cock kicks in their pants traitorously. They try to shake their head, deny it somehow. But it’s futile under Mist’s nimble hands and her wicked tongue. 

“You are though, look at that.” She holds up a hand in front of their nose, wet with streaks of milk. Zephyr whimpers—curse the Dark One below, they fucking whimper—head lolling backwards like it’s just too heavy for their shoulders. A sure sign of their imminent defeat once again. 

Mist knows it too. Always knows when they reach the delicious point of no return. She surges forward, melting her body against theirs, looming over them with a gaze so piercing it could cut glass. Hungry. She rubs her nose along Zephyr’s, slow and teasing. Relishing in the fact she’s about to take away the last shreds of their control. 

“Want a taste, little bird?” she whispers, holding their chin and slipping her thumb between their lips. 

The roll of her hips that follows and the taste of themselves on their tongue is just the beginning of their demise. 

[kaye-go-moo]

Shapes and Strange Ciphers AU: Brothers, Space Oddity

SaSC by me

Shapes and Pines by @/void-dude

Next Part

Bill

Bill advanced quickly in school, skipping grade levels and starting early in college. In his free time, he would talk to Tad about all the cool things he was learning and wanted to know. After some time, he started taking an interest in the obscure. However, Bill noticed Tad slowly drifting away and asked what was wrong.

When Tad said that life was just busy, Bill was upset. Believing Tad saw him as a burden and feeling guilty for wasting his time. Bill was also a little annoyed. He was so used to being Tad's center of attention that, when he wasn't, he felt Tad didn't care about him anymore. So Bill started talking to Tad less and kept things brief. Eventually, he lost contact with him but thought it was for the best, hoping that Tad would reach out when he was able.

-

After Tad left, Bill was alone. He only made this worse by closing himself off from others and leaning further into his education and research. However, as Bill learned more, he slowly began spiraling into an unhealthy dependence on knowledge. Bill didn't know when Tad would return, didn't know how to help him, or how to fix their tattered relationship.

These were problems that Bill couldn't solve, questions he couldn't answer. So why dwell on them? Instead, he focused on things he could figure out, delving further into the strange happenings of the world.

Bill started to discover things he never believed were real and questions yet to be answered. Questions he could answer. So Bill took the step to switch his main course of study from the mathematical and scientific to the oddities of the world.

Along the way, Bill slowly opened himself back up and managed to make friends with like-minded people who helped further his research. Eventually, he found himself in a place filled with the strange and unusual, a sleepy town in Oregon called Gravity Falls. There, Bill discovered countless supernatural wonders that he took to studying–recording his findings in a journal.

After a few years, Bill noticed that he had recorded many supernatural occurrences but not the reason for their occurrences. Bill had hit a roadblock in his studies and struggled to work around it.

_____

Lore Comment

[zoros-debt]

hii i’ve been looking for long well written zonami fics and i was hoping you could recommend the best stuff you’ve read. i don’t mind any site i’ll even take wattpad at this point ;—; there’s waay too little of this pair on ao3 and so many works i’ve seen are abandoned. help a girl out thank youuu 🫶🏼

Oh man, I wish I could tell ya! I haven't had the time to read fanfics lately, so I'm not sure if there are any recent ones I can recommend.

If you're a long-time ZoNami fan, you might've already heard of these two completed M-rated fics by AshaRose on Fanfiction.net:

Mystery Pants

Memory

And there's one completed explicit fic that I've been meaning to read on AO3 by StillPurplePanicking: Dry Spell

If you've already read these, I can only apologize lol - there just aren't too many fics out there for ZoNami, and it's been a long while since I've last read a long and completed ZoNami fic. I want to write more to add to the collection of ZoNami works out there, but it's been tough finding time to work on 'em.

My one attempt at a long fic is still on hiatus, but I'm hoping to jump back into it soon! It's unfortunate, but the ZoNami drought is real 🥲

(A shoutout to @harritudur for feeding us all those goregous ZoNami art during these tough times!)

[paperbackfable]

Erend: they don't Id me at the liquor store anymore because they see the light has left my eyes

-

Erend: We're playing Scrabble. It's a nightmare.

Alva: Scrabble? Scrabble's great.

Erend: Not when you're playing with Zo, it's not. They put words like "ephemeral" and I put "dog".

-

Varl: You're ignoring all your problems.

Aloy: I know.

Varl: You also know it's an unhealthy coping mechanism?

Aloy: I'm ignoring that fact as well.

Varl:

-

Zo: In your opinion, what's the height of stupidity?

Aloy: turning to Sylens How tall are you?

-

Aloy: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Sylens: Oh yeah? You're the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD.

Aloy: I'm leaving you, and I'm TAKING BETA WITH ME!

Varl, picking up the strike board: I think we're gonna stop playing now.

-

Aloy: Want do you want to be for "Halloween"?

Beta: Loved.

Aloy: Don't do this.

-

Sylens: I will not stand to be disrespected like this!

Aloy: Then sit.

-

Alva: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life...

Zo: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back.

Aloy: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this.

Beta: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years.

Erend: I knew I lost that potential somewhere.

Varl: Mental stability, my old friend!

Alva: Ancestors, could you guys lighten up a little?

-

Varl: What do you think Kotallo will do for a distraction?

Aloy: Probably, like, whistle or throw a rock. That's what I would do.

Building explodes and several car alarms go off

Aloy: ...or they could do that.

-

OK THAT'S ENOUGH I SHOULD PROABLY STOP NOW BYE

[fruitybashir]

i will not write a dick sucking stool oneshot i will not write a dick sucking stool oneshot i will not write a dick sucking stool oneshot