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tannedalien · 7 days ago

Note

Just finished reading "Accidentally sending mha ur nudes" And why did it eat so hard!?

UR LITTERALY AMAZING WTF!?!

Anyway- could you do mha boys getting baby fever?

Have a good day/night! ♡

i saw this request a while ago and was wandering how i'd do it for so long because as someone who doesn't actually want kids, this does nothing for me LMAO BUT i did the research and hopefully you girlies will love this !! mwuah

warning: nothing lol

sypnosis: bakugou, kirishima and iida are having extreme baby fever and they bring up the question, "would you ever have kids?" to reader, WHAT WILL HAPPEN NYEHEHEHE

╰┈➤ Bakugou Katsuki

Being with katsuki means you have no idea what his emotional cues are. he doesnt show how he feels alot. He usually keeps to himself so if he does have a problem or something he wants to talk to you about, he'd just wait for you to realise and bring it up yourself or until the problem is resolved.

So when you and him are sat eating pizza on your huge couch and he blurts out "You'd be a great mom" you're heart did backflips.

You blinked, not quite sure if you had heard him correctly. Katsuki didn’t exactly do well with feelings, and for him to just casually drop a bomb like that was... unexpected, to say the least. The smile on his face, though small, made your heart race in a way you hadn’t anticipated. It was like seeing a glimpse of something deeper, something softer in him that he usually kept hidden.

You put your slice of pizza down, the moment suddenly feeling too big to continue with something so trivial. "Katsuki… what do you mean by that?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though your stomach was doing a strange, fluttery thing that you were too embarrassed to acknowledge.

He leaned back against the couch, chewing slowly, as though trying to figure out how to put it into words. “You’re good with kids,” he muttered, shrugging slightly. “The way you are with people, the way you care for them. You’re patient, even when they’re being little shits." His lips quirked into a half-smirk. "Could see it. You’d handle it fine."

You felt warmth spread through your chest at the compliment, even though it was coming from him in his usual blunt manner. It was a side of him that he rarely showed, and it made you feel like maybe he was offering a little piece of himself that he didn't often share. "Well… I don't know about all that," you said, trying to deflect, but the smile that tugged at your lips was hard to hide. "But, uh, thanks. I guess."

He gave a small, almost shy nod, before turning his attention back to his pizza, but you could tell he wasn’t entirely at ease either. The tension from earlier had faded, but there was still something lingering between you two now. You couldn't quite put it into words, but it felt like something important had just shifted.

After a long pause, you couldn't help but ask, "Do you think you'd be a good dad?" The words left your mouth before you could stop them, and you immediately felt a bit daft.

Katsuki's expression flickered for a moment, and you could tell he was thinking it over, unsure whether he wanted to entertain the idea. After a beat, he finally grunted. "Maybe. If the kid doesn't turn out like me, anyway."

You chuckled, reaching over to ruffle his hair lightly. "That's probably for the best, yeah."

He let out a huff but didn’t pull away from your touch, which you took as a silent sign that, despite his usual tough exterior, he didn't mind the rare moments when you got close like this. It was small, but in Katsuki's world, it felt like a huge step.

╰┈➤ kirishima eijirou

Eijirou Kirishima wasn’t one to keep things to himself. If he was feeling something—anything—he made sure everyone around him knew. But today? Today was different. There was a strange, giddy energy bubbling up inside him, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. It had started a few days ago, and now, as you and he relaxed in the living room of your flat, he found it nearly impossible to ignore.

You were sitting cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when Kirishima sat down beside you with a heavy sigh. He was unusually quiet, which was odd for him; his usual loud and boisterous personality was nowhere to be found. Instead, he seemed almost... pensive? His fingers drummed absently on the cushion between you, as though he was working through something in his mind.

"Hey, what's up with you?" you asked, glancing up from your phone. "You’ve been a bit off all day."

He flashed you a wide grin, but it was strained, almost like he was holding back a laugh—or something more serious. "Ah, you know, just... thinking," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly unsure of how to start the conversation. "Thinking about... well, you’ll probably laugh."

You tilted your head curiously, setting your phone aside. "Well, now you've got my attention. What’s going on, Kirishima?"

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his cheeks faintly pink. It was a rare sight—Kirishima, usually so confident, a little bashful. “So... I’ve been, uh, thinking a lot about... kids.”

Your eyebrows shot up, unsure if you had heard him correctly. "Kids?" you echoed. "Like, babies? You mean like—"

"Yeah! Babies." He blurted it out, his voice a little too high-pitched to be casual. He quickly cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. “Not just babies babies, but like... the whole idea of... you know. Being a dad one day.”

You sat there in stunned silence for a moment, your mind racing to process the unexpected admission. Kirishima had always been the sort to get excited about things, but this was new, even for him.

“Why?” you asked, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. You didn’t want to sound skeptical, but your heart skipped a beat at the thought of Kirishima—your lovable, boisterous boyfriend—thinking about fatherhood. "Where’s this coming from?"

He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly looking sheepish. "I don't know. I guess I’ve just been noticing things lately. Like... kids are kinda cute, yeah? And you know, when I see little ones with their parents, it makes me think... what if I had one of my own someday?"

You tried to hide your grin, but it was hard. Kirishima, the tough and often reckless hero-in-training, was having what could only be described as a serious case of baby fever.

“I was at the grocery store earlier," he continued, his voice growing more animated. "And I saw this little kid with his mum, and the kid was being all grumpy, you know? But the mum just bent down and talked to him all calmly, and the kid totally cheered up! It was like... wow, that’s really cool.”

You chuckled softly at his earnestness, your heart warming at how much he cared about the world around him, even in the little details. "Sounds like you're imagining yourself as that mum, huh?"

Kirishima’s eyes lit up, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Yeah! But like, both of us! You and me, working together, raising a little one. I can just picture it—me playing with the kid while you make lunch, and we’d all laugh, and everything would be perfect!” He gave you a goofy, wide grin, his usual enthusiasm returning.

Your heart swelled. He was already imagining the family life with you—so effortlessly, without hesitation. And the idea of it was... well, it was enough to make you feel something deep in your chest.

"I mean," he added with a wink, "I know I’d make a killer dad. I’ve got the energy, right?" He flexed his arm, as if to show you just how ready he was to take on fatherhood. His smile was unshakable, but you could see the genuine excitement behind his eyes, the soft vulnerability that wasn’t usually there when he spoke about things this personal.

“You’d be an amazing dad, Kirishima,” you said, your voice soft. "But, uh, are you sure you’re ready for that kind of responsibility?"

“Hell yeah, I’m ready!” He said it with such confidence, his voice booming in the way it always did when he was all-in on something. "I mean, I might not know all the ins and outs of parenting yet, but I’ve got the heart for it! And I’ve got you by my side, right?" He turned to you, his hand sliding into yours, squeezing gently.

You looked into his eyes, feeling the sincerity behind his words. It was moments like these that made you realise just how much you meant to him. His loyalty, his drive, his desire to be the best he could be—it was all part of the same package, and it extended beyond just hero work. He wanted to build something with you, something real, something lasting.

“Maybe... maybe not just yet,” you said, teasing him gently, though your smile was full of warmth. “But I’d be lying if I said the idea didn’t sound kind of nice.”

He grinned, clearly relieved that you didn’t shut him down completely. "So... you’re saying there’s a chance?"

You squeezed his hand, leaning in closer. "Yeah, Kirishima. There’s a chance. But let’s start with getting through today first, yeah? I think we can handle just us two for now."

He laughed, his usual boisterous energy coming back full force. "Hell yeah! One step at a time, right? But, mark my words, when the time comes... you and me, we’re gonna be awesome at it."

You smiled, a quiet chuckle escaping your lips as you pulled him in for a hug. “I believe you.”

And as you held him there, you couldn’t help but imagine what the future might hold. Maybe it was far off, maybe it wasn’t even in the cards yet, but the thought of it—raising a family with Kirishima—was enough to make you feel like maybe, just maybe, this little dream of his didn’t seem so far-fetched after all.

╰┈➤ Tenya Iida

You and Tenya Iida had spent the day together, enjoying a quiet evening at his family’s home in the countryside. It was rare for the two of you to have such downtime, with both of you often consumed by schoolwork, training, and hero duties. But today, you had a rare moment to yourselves, and it felt almost surreal, like a fleeting moment of peace in an otherwise chaotic life.

The evening sky was painted in hues of pink and orange as the sun began to set, and the two of you sat on the porch of Iida’s house, the cool evening breeze rustling the trees around you. He was sitting next to you, his posture as straight as ever, but his usual stern, all-business attitude was softened by the serenity of the moment. You leaned back on the porch swing, content, with a cup of tea in your hands.

It was then that Iida’s voice broke the silence, sounding strangely... hesitant.

“Y/N, have you ever thought about... children?”

You blinked, your tea momentarily forgotten as you turned to face him. “Children?” you repeated, unsure if you’d heard him right. He was sitting there, as composed as ever, his glasses glinting in the fading light, but there was a faint pink tinge to his cheeks.

“Yes, children,” he repeated with an awkward cough. “You know, the... the future. Family. It’s just... something that’s been on my mind lately.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “Oh? You’ve been thinking about kids?”

He turned to you, his expression more serious now, but still clearly not fully comfortable with the subject. “Yes, I have. And... I wanted to ask your opinion on the matter.”

“Well, I can’t say I’ve been thinking about it much myself,” you said, your voice teasing, “but you’ve got my attention now. What brought this on, Iida?”

He adjusted his glasses, a habit he only did when he was particularly nervous or embarrassed. “I’ve been doing some... self-reflection lately. I’ve noticed how much joy my older brother Tensei has when he’s around his children. The way he and his wife interact with their little ones, how happy they are, it made me realise something.”

You leaned in, curiosity piqued. “What’s that?”

Iida paused for a moment, his expression thoughtful, almost distant. “I think... I think I’d like to have children one day. I’ve always focused so much on my duties, on being the perfect representative of the Iida family, on becoming a great hero, but perhaps there’s more to life than just those things.”

You were quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. Iida, the ever-dedicated, disciplined class rep, admitting that his ambitions could extend beyond his role as a hero? It was a big revelation.

“Iida... that’s a lot to think about,” you said gently. “I mean, children are a huge responsibility.”

He nodded eagerly, his voice firm, as though he had already made up his mind. “Indeed. But I believe I could balance my hero duties with a family. After all, I have always strived to be a man of responsibility. And children are the future, aren’t they? They are a symbol of hope, of the legacy we leave behind.”

You blinked, surprised at how deeply he had thought about it. “I didn’t realise you were so... passionate about it.”

A small, shy smile spread across his face as he glanced over at you. “I suppose it’s not something I’ve shared much. But after seeing Tatsuya with his children, I realised that the joy they bring into the world is something... I’d like to experience for myself. Perhaps we could... raise a family one day?”

Your heart fluttered, and for a moment, you simply stared at him, trying to process his words. You had always known Iida was a man of principle, but hearing him speak so openly about family, about a future with children, caught you off guard. You never expected him to be so... tender about it.

“Well,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips, “I can’t say I’ve thought about it too much either. But the idea of having a family with you? Iida, that sounds... nice.”

His eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. “R-Really?”

“Really,” you said, your smile growing. “You’d be a great father. You’ve got this strong sense of duty and a deep care for those around you. I think kids would love that.”

Iida’s face lit up at your words, and for the first time that evening, he looked completely at ease. The stiffness in his posture faded, and he let out a small, relieved laugh.

“I suppose I hadn’t considered how much work would go into raising a family. But I am determined,” he said, his voice brimming with conviction. “I would make sure that our children, if we ever had them, were raised with the utmost care, respect, and love.”

You reached out, resting your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his palm as you squeezed gently. “I know you would, Iida. I can see it already.”

He smiled at you, his usual seriousness replaced by a softness you rarely saw. “You’d be an excellent mother, Y/N. I’m certain of it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his words, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Well, I suppose we’d better start practising, then.”

“Practising?” he asked, a slight confusion in his voice.

“Yeah,” you teased, “if we’re going to have a family, we might as well start with something small... like a pet, maybe.”

Iida blinked at you, clearly caught off guard by the suggestion. “A pet?” he asked, his tone a mix of surprise and amusement. “I... suppose that might be a good first step.”

You grinned at him. “We can start with something easy. Maybe a dog. Or a cat. Get used to the whole ‘responsibility’ thing first.”

Iida stared at you for a moment, his smile widening slowly, before he let out a deep, contented sigh. “A dog, you say? I suppose... I could live with that.”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’ll make a wonderful father, Tenya Iida. And I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way.”

He blushed at the kiss but smiled all the same. "I look forward to it, Y/N. Truly."

And as the sun dipped lower on the horizon, you both sat there, side by side, quietly contemplating a future that, while uncertain, felt a little more possible than before.

AHHHH THIS TOOK LIKE 2 WEEKS BUT I LOCKED IN BC I FORGOR ABOUT IT LOWKEY

anyways i love yall please please please send requests in cause you love me yayyyy

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staybabblingbaby · 5 months ago

Text

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.2 (Anemone) a3d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 4,218

Notes: I don't feel like the summary completely matches this story anymore. I'm also not really satisfied with this chapter, but I'm too tired to really get into a whole bunch of drafts and edits, I've just really been feeling poorly lately. The archive is for writing progress anyways, it's fine. I'll probably rewrite this whole chapter if I ever get to where I'd be comfortable posting finished versions to Ao3. I'm also just not fond of my writing style somehow. It feels too formal, doesn't flow enough. Problem is that I really talk like that lmao. Idk, I'll figure it out.

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part

Bangchan clambered into the van behind Felix, Minho and Jisung loading into the row in front of them. It always felt a bit weird to not spend some time swapping seatmates around based on who was clinging to who at the moment, but on days like today it was easier to just board the vehicles as quick as possible.

He's ended up with a relatively quite combination of their cluster today, and Chan was grateful for it as he settled into his seat with a pained grimace.

He wasn’t sure when it had started, but a persistent on-and-off pain had been roaming around his back for the last twenty minutes as they’d said goodbye to Stays and prepared to leave the venue. He’d be more worried about it, except the sharp, needle-like, pains would settle into a gentler ache before kicking back up again.

As it was, Chan was pretty sure he’d pinched a nerve or strained something and would simply rest when he got back to the hotel. Maybe call up the PT. For now, as three of his soulmates settled in around him, Chan was content to leave it be.

Well, almost. Another twinge of pain makes him wince as he twists to buckle in, and Chan decides that maybe it’d be a good idea to know what he was working with. For comfort’s sake, if nothing else.

“Felix,” He prods the blond next to him, “Can you look at my back for me? I think I pinched something.” He motions toward his lower back, where the majority of the pain had been accumulating.

Felix immediately nods his acceptance, their group’s resident massage expert always willing to lend a hand. Especially if it let him lay hands on his very well built soulmates.

Chan scooches forward and rotates around, balancing with his hand on the headrest of the seat in front of him. He helps Felix shimmy his shirt upwards, struggling with it where it gets caught in the seat-belt.

Chan ends up stuck struggling on his own as Felix chooses that moment to direct his eyes and hands to the afflicted area.

“There’s your first issue,” Felix tuts, “You’ve left your concealment tape on. You’ll give yourself a rash one of these days, hyung.”

Chan gives a sheepish smile from where he’s managed to trap himself in a cloth prison. His head is free, and the shirt his appropriately bunched up over his shoulders and around his neck. Unfortunately, he hadn’t managed to free his hands, so he’s got a bit of a t-Rex thing going on right now. It’s fine.

“I forget it’s there,” he confesses with a whine, “I can’t see my own back, y’know?”

Felix rolls his eyes at their oh-so-glorious leader, carefully peeling the thin material away from Chan’s skin as he scolds, “You still need to take it off. We sweat way too much to not at least change it after a performance.”

He’s bunching up the extra-strength tape to maybe toss at Jisung in the front seat (maybe Minho, if he’s feeling very brave), when he spots something off.

More than half a decade into having found each other, the members of Stray Kids were intimately familiar with each other’s soulmarks. Every drop of color, every line, every curve.

So when Felix looks at the freshly uncovered canvas on Chan’s back, familiar trees, bushes, and rocks painting a forested landscape that describes their impact on their eldest, something new immediately catches his eye.

There, on the fallen log that bridged two banks of a crystal-clear creek, was a moss blanket and a cluster little shelf mushrooms. They added life to the previously defunct object, a little bit of color that couldn’t have been said to be missing until it wasn’t.

The closer Felix looked, the more he saw. A mushroom here, a mossy patch there. Little signs of life and decay that he could have sworn weren’t there the last time he looked.

He looks to Jisung, who’s blissfully unaware.

As the first of their cluster to paint Chan’s skin with color, he was the most familiar with their leader’s mark. Jisung had been too young for his own mark to have appeared when he’d met Chan, but that didn’t stop him from influencing their eldest’s. They all knew he’d spent a lot of time studying Chan’s mark (and Changbin’s when it had appeared, already partially colored in) while waiting for his own.

If there was anyone who’d be more than certain of a change in their soulmarks, it’d be Jisung.

Felix swiftly removes his hands from Chan’s back, earning him a little noise of confusion from the prone man, and reaches over to poke Jisung harshly in the side.

Jisung immediately flinches away from the offending fingers with a loud yelp, attracting the attention of Minho, who’d been peacefully scrolling on his phone. Jisung swiftly fixes Felix with an offended glare, ready to retaliate, but is cut off before he can even try.

“Look at Chan’s mark for me.” Felix demands.

“My mark?” Chan echoes, baffled and alarmed. “What’s wrong with my mark?”

“Nothing, hyung,” Felix assures, “I just need to check I’m not seeing things.”

A series of furtive, silent, and, on Felix’s part, urgent, gestures are exchanged before Jisung finally relents and leans around the back of his seat, grabbing Minho’s for balance as the van departs.

Jisung lazily traces his eyes over Chan’s soulmark. All of Stray Kids had huge marks, but Jisung privately thought that Chan had them all beat. His mark spanned his entire back, not an inch untouched by the image. From shoulder to hip was an oil painting of a mark, filled in from what used to be a desolate landscape to what was now a thriving forest.

Jisung used to think it was so overwhelming to be part of such a mark. To be loved so much, and so deeply. It was evident in every brushstroke of the image on Chan’s skin, and in every action of the man himself.

These days, he found great comfort in it.

He’d gotten so lost in thought as he studied his soulmate’s mark that Jisung had almost missed what had caught Felix’s attention in the first place. But sure enough, his eyes catch on the same log that Felix’s had.

“Oh.” He whispers to himself. “Oh.” He says again, as Minho shoves his head under Jisung’s arm to look himself.

“No, yeah, that’s different.” He confirms, Minho nodding against him, having already spotted it for himself. The two of them find their eyes glued to tiny mushrooms, only sparing a moment to glance at each other before returning their gaze to Chan’s skin, each with their own racing thoughts.

“I thought so.” Felix nods to himself.

“What?” Chan questions, becoming more alarmed by the second, “What’s going on? What’s happened? What’s wrong with my mark?”

Felix lays his palms flat on Chan’s back and begins to rub gentle, soothing, circles. Any changes to a soulmark were stressful at the best of times, and they all knew how much Chan treasured his.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Felix soothes, letting the warmth of Chan’s mark resonating with his touch calm them both as he searches for gentle words.

“It’s just,” He begins hesitantly, “Well, the good news is that you haven’t pinched or strained anything.”

“Good news?” Chan echoes, “Is there bad news?” He lets a nervous giggle fall from his lips even as he relaxes into Felix’s hands.

“Not necessarily?” Felix says uncertainly, “It’s just. Well. Your mark has changed.” He pauses a second and pulls out his phone, quickly snapping a picture and then passing it around so Chan can see. “Something’s been added.”

Felix lets the implication of his words sit untouched in the air as the three of them wait for Chan to process what this means.

Ironically, Chan was the least familiar with his own mark out of all of them. His and Minho’s both resided on their backs so it stood to reason that the two of them didn’t see their marks very often. So it was no surprise that it took Chan several, very long, moments to spot the tiny changes.

When he does, Chan pulls in a deep, stuttering breath. The pain is already fading out to an ache now that it’s been acknowledged and Chan isn’t sure how he feels about the extra confirmation.

He carefully pulls his shirt back down, breaking his soulmate’s line of sight like they hadn’t already burned the image onto their retinas. He doesn’t remove his eyes from Felix’s phone.

“I...” He trails off, “I have another soulmate?” His voice is filled with wonder as he marvels at the picture of his mark. He looks up at the rest of his soulmates currently in the van with awe. “We have another soulmate?”

“Yeah,” Minho whispers, voice choked with emotion, “Yeah it looks like it.”

Felix doesn’t wait for Chan to fully turn around before he’s pulling their leader into a bone-crushing hug, giddy, disbelieving, laughter spilling out of him even as tears prick at his eyes.

“Oh my god!” Felix celebrates quietly as Chan wiggles to return his hug just as tightly. “Oh my god.” The other man agrees.

Even as his soulmates celebrate around him, each feeling their own storm of emotions, Chan can’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.

Stray Kids was a uniquely large soul cluster. From the beginning, when it had become evident that Hannie wasn’t his only soulmate, it had caused issues. Then came Bin, and the rest had followed like dominos. Each time their circle expanded he’d thought “this has to be it, right?” and each time there was a little voice in the back of his mind saying, “No, not yet.”

The issue was that that feeling, that little voice saying ”not yet”, the knowledge that they weren’t complete, had never gone away.

By the time they had all met, none of them could spot anything obviously missing from their marks. All of them were completely colored, lines drawn, images complete. And yet, every one of them felt that hollowness of an incomplete bond.

They’d talked about it a lot. Individually, as a group, in pairs and in quartets and seemingly endless combinations. It was hard, as the years went by, to ignore that nagging feeling.

Chan would always remember Jeongin crawling into his bed in the middle of the night, crying and apologizing for not being enough. Could never forget taking Jisung to a rage room so they could both break down their feelings or drinking with Changbin and wondering if it was wrong for them to be so greedy as to want more when they already had so much.

After so many years, they’d begun to wonder if they were just broken. If they didn’t have another soulmate out there after all, and it was all in their heads.

It had been hard. It was hard.

And now that little blank space in his soul was painted with someone else’s colors and Chan felt whole in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever experience.

It kind of made him want to cry.

He wanted to cry even more when Felix innocently asks, “So what were they like?” An unmatched eagerness in his eyes as Chan pulled away.

That one guileless question triggers a realization in Chan that has his groaning in despair and slumping forward back onto Felix’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Chan mumbles into the shoulder of the slighter man.

“What was that?” Jisung questions from where he and Minho were still turned toward him, obviously as curious as Felix.

“I said I don’t know!” Chan wails, wilting further into Felix’s frame.

“How do you not know?” Minho questions incredulously. Felix gasps as he connects dots he’d been too excited to before.

“I didn’t even know my mark had changed before now,” Chan explains miserably, “I don’t even know exactly when the pain started.”

Jisung sucks in a hiss of air, sympathy splashed across his face. “Oh geeze,” he breathes out, “How many people have we met today alone?”

“Ok, well,” Felix interjects, “Not ideal, but we’ll figure it out!”

Minho turns his incredulous stare onto the optimistic man.

"How are we going to figure it out?" He demands, "Because there were tens of thousands of people in that stadium and I know every single one of us shook dozens of hands tonight."

Felix wilts a little bit even as Jisung comes to his defense, "We kind of have to figure it out, hyung," he points out, "And soon. We're back to Seoul soon."

"Okay but how?" Minho challenges, "And don't give me any 'with the power of love and fate' crap."

"We might have to rely on fate." Chan shrugs, dejected. "It's not like I have a description or anything to give out."

"It'll be okay Channie hyung," Felix pats Chan's back lightly from where they're still entangled together, "It'll have to be."

The van descends into silence as the four of them contemplate their new situation. After a few minutes Chan leverages himself up and out of Felix's embrace to frown aimlessly at his knees.

"Well," Felix breaks the silence, "We don’t have any more shows after this, and we have some days of break time, right?”

“Right,” Chan confirms, “We have tomorrow off and then we’re returning to Seoul to start working on the next album.”

“But officially,” Felix hedges, “We have, like, an entire week off, don’t we?”

“Not quite, but sure,” Chan hesitantly agrees.

“Well, we know they were in town for the concert at least,” Felix continues, “So as long as they didn’t leave the city immediately after, I mean, there's seven more first contacts to go, right?”

“Are you saying we should spend our break wandering around trying for first contacts?” Jisung asks, “Because I’m all for searching for them, but I don’t know that aimless wandering is gonna help.”

Chan holds up his hands to halt that conversation before it could devolve into a bigger debate.

“Let’s shelve that for now, and meet up with the others at the hotel,” He suggests, “We should discuss this as a group anyways.”

He receives a variety of agreements and the four of them settle in for the short remaining drive back to their hotel. He absently hands Felix’s phone back to him and retrieves his own from his pocket to ask the others to meet them in his room.

Chan looks out the window, post-concert fatigue all but a memory. As the buildings pass by, he can’t help but hope that their mystery soulmate was looking for them too.

You reaffirm your decision to never ever meet your soulmates as Taylor loads you into the car, arm wrapped protectively around your shoulder the whole way.

It was one thing when your stupidly large soul cluster was just an idea. Knowledge you held, but unactionable in any way.

It was another when you had evidence, in the form of little white flowers burning with warmth on your skin, that they were real, physical, people.

Even worse when you knew that they were a group of very famous musicians.

You hadn’t actually been sick when you’d texted Taylor, who’d thankfully managed to get all of the autographs he’d wanted before he’d checked his phone to try to find you, but you were getting there. Anxiety had nausea creeping up your throat like molasses.

You’re beyond grateful when your roommate doesn’t question your sudden illness, the both of you well aware that you were hale and hearty when you’d left the house.

Taylor just buckles you in like you’re something precious and fragile and takes the wheel.

The two of you drive in silence the entire way home. It’s not awkward, but you can’t deny the weight of something heavy in the air. The buzz of the concert still lingered between the two of you, and it only made the silence stifling and itchy.

When you pull into your apartment complex neither of you speak for a long moment.

“Sorry for ruining the day.” You murmur to the air in front of you. Taylor just reaches over to pat your thigh and unclip your seatbelt.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” He assures, “Don’t sweat it.” He hesitates a moment before continuing.

“I’m not gonna push,” Taylor begins gently, “But you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever happened, I’m not gonna judge. I just wanna be here for you.”

“What makes you think something happened?” You mutter mulishly. Taylor just gives you a look that has you sinking into your seat.

“It’s nothing. I’m just being dramatic.” You admit. He bumps your shoulder with his and climbs out of the car.

“It’s not nothing if it makes you feel something.” He tells you as he goes. The two of you walk up to the apartment in silence, contemplative this time.

You think about telling him as the two of you separate to wash the concert off of yourselves. You think about it as you take turns using the bathroom and as you make dinner side by side. You think about it as you settle in front of the couch at his feet as his hands automatically pull your head to his knees, his fingers digging into your hair just how you like.

You want to tell him, you decide. You do. It's just that. Well...

Your sister was right, in a way. You’d known Taylor for over a year now, but the two of you didn’t really know much about each other. You really were just roommates.

You didn’t know what his favorite color was. You didn’t know the names of his parents, or if he had any siblings. You barely knew what he did for a living. He’d only ended up your roommate by virtue of you responding to his “roommate wanted” ad with full willingness to be murdered on the spot.

At the same time, the two of you knew everything about each other. You knew how he took his coffee in the morning, that he preferred his eggs dry and over-seasoned. You knew the bands he liked and the games he played. You knew his hobbies better than you knew your own sometimes, and more about his friend’s drama that you ever wanted to.

You know the important things, you think.

You know that every word you tell him in confidence will be clutched tightly all the way to the grave.

“I met my soulmate today.” You confess, your cheek pressed to his knee, half-asleep.

The words somehow feel like they were snatched from the darkest depths of your soul as they spill from your lips. You make no move to take them back.

Taylor’s hand, to his credit, only pauses for a moment. Then he treats your hushed admission like any other comment made while you nod off to dramas the both of you know you only watch for him, resuming the soothing movement of his hand and humming lightly to acknowledge you.

You think it’s that casual treatment that lets you find the courage to continue.

“Well, one of them anyway.” You mumble. Taylor hums his interest, but doesn't take his eyes off of the screen and doesn’t stop petting your hair.

“I don’t want to meet them. There’s so many of them and only one of me, y'know? I don’t even know how to love myself, how am I supposed to love eight other people?” Taylor says nothing still, his eyes glued to an episode of a drama you know the two of you have already finished three times over.

“I’m scared I’ll fuck it up. I’m scared they’ll fuck me up.” Your voice cracks as you breathe life into one of your deepest fears. You realize as you say it that you’ve never voiced these thoughts aloud before, even to yourself.

Tears prick at the back of your eyes when you admit, “I’m not ready for them. I don’t think I can be.”

Taylor finally gives in to the seriousness of the conversation and hauls you bodily up onto the couch. You go willingly, but with rag-doll limpness. He rearranges you to his liking and you find yourself in Gossip Position, sitting criss-cross facing him.

“First of all,” He starts in, his usual levity giving way to a seriousness you rarely see from him, “Don’t be mean to my best friend. I’ll hit you.” You ignore his threat in favor of the warm feeling in chest at hearing him call you his best friend.

Take THAT Ma! No friends your glorious behind.

“Secondly, you are literally the most loving person I have ever met in my life. You would fit the entire world in there if you could,” He pokes your chest, right above your heart, for emphasis, “So I’m not that surprised you have more than one soulmate.”

“I have eight though,” You argue, “Isn’t that weird?”

Taylor just shrugs. “I mean, yeah. But weird is basically your brand, so...” He trails off with a teasing smirk.

You shove him a bit in retaliation, but he just grabs your wrists to still you and continues speaking before you can argue.

“I don’t think eight soulmates is enough for you, honestly,” He muses, “I mean it when I say you’re the most loving person I know. I think you’d even try to take care of Danny if he needed you to.” The mention of Taylor’s very creepy second cousin sends a shiver down both of your spines.

The worst part is that you can’t even argue with him.

“But you know, even with eight soulmates, you don’t have to be with them.” Taylor suddenly switches tracks to reassure you, “They’re your soulmates sure, but you’re your own person. They’re for you, it’s not like they are you. You can live without, if you really want to.”

The two of you let that statement settle for a moment. He’s right, you know all too well. Still, the thought leaves a wad of uncomfortable and complicated feelings lodged in your throat.

After a moment’s pause, you break the silence.

“I have too many years of trauma and not enough therapy money to unpack everything I’m feeling right now.”

Taylor cracks first, and giggles come pouring out of the two of you. The joke wasn’t even funny, but you guessed the two of you had been serious for far too long.

Some minutes later, when the giggles finally die down and you return to watching Taylor’s show, you find yourself with your head on his shoulder.

“Whatever you decide, you know I’m here for you, right?” Taylor quietly picks up where the conversation had left off.

“Sure,” you agree, “Like I was there for you when you cried over a boy I told you wasn’t shit.” You completely deserve the elbow to the side you receive for that comment.

“Shut up, I’m being cheesy!” Taylor scolds with a laugh.

“I’m lactose intolerant!” You complain, but obligingly fall silent.

“Seriously,” Taylor insists, “I’ll be here every step of the way. Whatever you need.”

You wrap your arms around the one of his that you’re leaning on and give a gentle squeeze to show your appreciation. “Thanks Tay.” you murmur.

“Of course. You got me front row tickets to a SKZ concert, we’re ride or die whether you like it for not!” You poke his side to scold him for not being serious after just insisting that you be, but end up having to fight for your life when he immediately retaliates by trying to tickle you.

It takes the two of you quite a while to calm down again, Taylor smug in his victory. He holds your ankles in his lap like trophies of war as you stare at the ceiling. The quiet creeps back in quickly, so you speak.

“I’m just not sure what I want, I think.” You tell him, “I don’t want to meet them. But at the same time, I really do, y’know?”

Taylor nods, “Just let the universe do its thing.” he suggests, “If you’re meant to meet them now, you’ll meet them regardless of what you want. But after you meet them, it’s all up to you.”

You nod along, humming your acceptance of his advice. He’s right, again. You can’t really fight fate, even if you desperately want to. But even within that large restraint, you’re a human being with free will. The world is your oyster and all that.

You let your thoughts fade out and just listen to Taylor yap about the drama on the TV as he finally tunes back into it.

It’s nearly dawn when the two of you decide to turn in, post-concert jitters having deserted you and heavy conversations having taken their toll.

“Did you manage to get their name before you bolted?” Taylor asks out of nowhere as you’re walking to your respective rooms. “Your soulmate’s” He clarifies at your confused look.

“Oh, I didn’t need to.” You answer absentmindedly, already opening your door and dreaming of your cozy sheets. “It was Bangchan.”

You close your door on his gawping face, blissfully unaware of the crisis you’d just sent him into.

Perma Tag List: @Mbioooo0000

#skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #skz fanfic #w.i.p fic #skz fic #w.i.p #baby writes #SGAU #Soulmate Garden AU #Soulmate AU #SKZ soulmate AU #stray kids soulmate au

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caligvlasaqvarivm · 4 months ago

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Just wanted to tell you that pitch fefnep is real as fuck and I appreciate you bringing it to my attention.

Are there any other pitch ships you seriously live for?

My big one is Eridan <3< Calliope (#callidan let's make it happen)! There's a lot of karmic stuff linking them together - I'm not going to say it ALL here, but suffice to mention that cherubs are naturally attracted pitch-wise to people who resemble the half they lost in predomination, and Eridan literally made his username "cal" (caligula, so it's even 8 letters, lmao).

Personality-wise, though, fully-character-developed Eridan and Calliope are like a match made in hell. Eridan is violent, obsessed with murder, deliberately likes to style himself as an arrogant, evil despot, says a lot of slurs, is a complete moron who doesn't listen to people but believes in stuff very very strongly anyways, and, assuming he's finished his character arc, somehow still manages to be a force for good. This makes him similar to Caliborn in a lot of ways (Hussie even calls Eridan a sort of proto-Caliborn MULTIPLE times in the book commentary), and Calliope would have a lot to get infuriated by, especially since that last point would give Eridan that "i hate everything about you, BUT..." factor that makes a pitch relationship work.

OTOH, Calliope gets super fucking smug when she starts winning, Eridan would 100% see her as a poser wizard (who needs to load their MAGIC WAND with BULLETS????) as well as a poser troll. She would also definitely adopt a stance of "every life is precious," and already displayed compassion and forgiveness to a dangerous degree wrt Caliborn, and all of this would probably piss Eridan off. Also, Eridan is easy, and the fact that Calliope is actually willing to entertain him in pitch at all is probably enough to get him to date her in blackrom all by itself. LBR, all it really takes to date Eridan is just being willing to date Eridan. This is both a low and high bar to clear.

Given that murdering and genocide-obsessing literally kept his friends alive long enough to play the game, I just can't see Eridan ever becoming a pacifist, or even coming to see murder as a bad thing (even if he'd feel bad about and apologize for murdering his friends specifically).

It'd also be pretty bad if the Hope player (ideals, convictions, faith, and also turning fake stuff real) had wrong beliefs, so Eridan's character arc wouldn't so much see his obsession with murder dropped so much as having it reoriented, his focus becoming "I care about my friends and will do anything to make sure they succeed in creating a better world. I'd kill for them. I will kill for them. I am going to kill for them."

He's still kind of a token evil teammate as a result - the guy who pipes up at every town hall to go, "y'know, murder is on the table. I'm not saying that I want to do it or even that we should, but I'm just reminding you that it's a tool in our arsenal, and something our enemies might resort to" as well as the debbie downer who reminds people that meat comes from animals that used to have families.

Plus, given that his hipster stuff ties in with being a Hope player - the staunch and firm beliefs in there being "better" stuff, the unshakeable conviction and dedication toward being anti-mainstream, and the fact that it's one of his few genuine interests besides magic - that trait actually gets exacerbated in lieu of the fake pro-empire, dualscar-emulating stuff he was doing before.

So, basically, Eridan given the full redemption arc + character development combo would spit out an Eridan that's MORE annoying than he was before? Because, like, not only is he a turbo pretentious hipster now, but he's also the "heartbreaking: the worst person you know just made an excellent point" guy. He's comfortable in his own skin, no longer trying to be something he isn't. Instead, with absolute, non-negotiable, unshakeable faith in himself, he is 100% of what he is.

"What he is," of course, being a neurotic, murder-obsessed, low-empathy lunatic with zero social skills, a pretentious hipster, a cringe-ass wizard who won't shut up about it and has no self-awareness of how cringe he's being, still 100% aggro 100% of the time, and an obsessive simp. In a very leftist/existentialist way, he would fully own up to having done horrible things, and being willing to do them again, should the circumstances call for them. "Shameless" is probably a good word to use, here.

Meanwhile, Calliope is genuinely well-meaning as fuck, even if she doesn't fully grasp things like "humans going trickster mode is bad actually" and that her fascination/obsession with the trolls and kids as "characters" still borders on dehumanizing.

Still, it's clear that she operates from a place of love and admiration, and given a lease on life free from her brother and surrounded by friends, I do genuinely believe Calliope's arc culminates in her being the embodiement of the ideas that we must be good to each other, kind to each other, loving to each other, and trust and care for each other. After all, she has it within her; her alternate self was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for the good of several universes.

Still, Calliope as this cosmic, karmic force of good - what the comic ultimately exonorates and treats as something worthy of protection and rescue - sets her up against Eridan ideologically really well. Calliope represents "we must do good" in the most optimistic sense - people will be kind back if you are kind to them, and to create a loving society, a caring society, we must care about others, we must believe in others.

Meanwhile, Eridan would represent "we must do good" in the most dark and pessimistic sense - we must be prepared to sacrifice for each other, we hold duties to one another, we must be our best selves because we owe it to each other, we must not accept complacency, we must be ever-vigilant of our worst tendencies, we must take responsibility. No society exists without sacrifice, no revolution is without bloodshed, and nothing is ever worth fighting for that won't eventually need to be fought for - and who will do the fighting? The society that separates its scholars from its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting by fools, etc.

Like how pitch FefNep works for me on this axis of pragmatism vs. idealism - Feferi and Nepeta are both fundamentally duking it out over what it means to create and administer a society, with Nepeta representing unbridled freedom, while Feferi brings to the table controlling restraint. Neither is fully correct on their own - Nepeta is anarchic, and so her ideals are inherently unstable, while Feferi is fascistic, which can cause great harm. It's Hegalian dialectics. Thesis, antithesis, and their union/rivalry is the synthesis into a greater nuanced balance between the two.

Callidan works for me in the same way: Calliope and Eridan are both fundamentally aiming to create a world that's good, and Calliope says, we must be kind, while Eridan says, we must be cruel. They're both correct, and both have an ideal that can't stand on its own. Calliope's hardline stance of pure compassion lets bad apples take advantage, while Eridan's hardline stance of sacrifice and personal responsibility leads to misery and unfulfillment. Together, they strike a harmony.

And also they'd be so funny together. Like

UU: i believe that in order to create a kind and beaUtifUl world, we mUst be kind to each other. we mUst believe in each other no matter what. there is no fUtUre if it is not boUnd in love, trUst, and empathy.

CA: yeah fuckin right dont tell me you actually BELIEVVE that codswwallop those ideals sure held up wwhen wwe MURDERED THE EVVER LOVVIN SHIT OUTTA YOUR BROTHER

CA: reality aint so fuckin simple evvery societys got sacrifices need doin evvil bastards need killin and somebodys got to pull the trigger

UU: i swear, speaking with yoU is aboUt as pleasant as a sandpaper facial.

UU: and yet i continUe to do so, and do yoU know why? it's becaUse i do, in fact, believe in what i said, and i will, in fact, continUe to treat yoU with *love and compassion* despite yoUr repeated efforts to throw mine into the bin!!!!!!!!!!!

CA: i nevver asked for your so called lovve and compassion skullhag and i dont bloody need it either

UU: well, that's jUst too bad, isn't it? poor eridan, yoU were treated so poorly on alternia, and now yoU're angry and Upset all the time. my heart aches for yoUr plight!

CA: ill showw you a flippin PLIGHT scumskull meet me at the usual place

UU: <kisses> ~3U

UU's computer exploded!

uranianUmbra [UU] began cheering caligulasAquarium [CA]

UU: STOP DOING THAT.

Also... they're both British... so it's British on British violence... IDK that personally really elevates it for me

#homestuck #eridan ampora #calliope #calliope homestuck #callidan

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billdenbrough · 7 months ago

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@naturecalls111 prompted me kevaaron + procrastination and was like ‘post grad’, meaning they’re not undergrads if it’s canonverse, & something abt the phrasing latched into my brain so we ended up with this vaguely professor au w/ the flimsiest excuse for a TA-adjacent situation ever instead. idk. as ever this was just for her texts & i’m coming off a 30hr migraine so pls forgive me LMAO <3

“I can see right through you,” Kevin murmurs.

“Oh, yeah?” Aaron challenges. God, he’s close.

“Mm,” Kevin says. “You just don’t want to mark the test.”

It's an accusation, but there’s no censure in his voice. He's amused, mostly; fond too, despite himself. It’s not exactly behaviour he should be encouraging, but—

Aaron huffs. “I never want to mark a test,” he points out. “Undergrads are fucking stupid. Or these ones are, anyway.”

“You were an undergrad once,” Kevin says. He very determinedly keeps his hands steady on the bench. Maybe he’s gripping the edge so he stays in place; so what? That's between him and whatever God Renee believes in enough for the both of them.

“These ones,” Aaron repeats, scoffing. “Anyway, I'd never have taken a history paper. Get real.”

Kevin can’t help the frown there. “History is fascinating,” he argues. Aaron scoffs at him again, but the way he watches Kevin runs counter to that. Like he’s listening to whatever Kevin says, regardless. “It is,” Kevin insists again, clearing his throat.

Aaron's gaze tracks the movement, eyes following the motion of his throat, and Kevin kind of wants to clench the counter edge hard enough to crack the formica. Jesus Christ.

“You like research,” Kevin says. He keeps his eyes on Aaron, watches as he steps in closer again. “History is an endless study of every mistake we’ve ever made—”

“—So we don’t repeat our forefathers’ mistakes?” Aaron asks wryly. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s a non-starter.”

“No,” Kevin says, shaking his head. “We’re bad at learning. Mostly, we don’t even see the patterns for decades, if not centuries.”

Aaron cocks his head. “Doesn’t that frustrate you?” he asks. “I've seen you watch sports. You get mad if people make the same fuck-up within, like, three minutes.”

An image floats in Kevin’s head, unbidden: the two of them at the sports bar, late one night after they finally convinced Jeremy to go the fuck home because the college wasn’t paying him enough to sleep at his desk to reply to nineteen year olds’ panicked emails at 11:17pm before a midnight deadline. Kevin had been unbelievably put-out by the Astros’ scoreline; Aaron hadn’t cared so much, but had seemed to find great entertainment in prodding at Kevin to express his opinion to a bar full of patrons who strongly disagreed with him.

Do you even care about baseball? Kevin had asked in the end, exasperated. He’d unknotted his tie and slipped off his jacket, heated by his opinions and the game and the alcohol and the way Aaron had sat there, head tilted, that clever mouth of his quirked up to the side like a smirk, like a secret.

Not really, Aaron had said, shrugging. He swished his beer a little. I played hockey at school myself. Before Kevin could get too excited about that—a sport! An actual goddamn sport! that wasn’t only worth watching European leagues for, cough cough Jeremy and Jean and fucking football—Aaron added, I like seeing how much you care about it, though, and knocked Kevin right on his ass, metaphorically-speaking.

That night had ended in a blur: Kevin’s flushed cheeks as he lectured the bar at large about heliocentrism after finishing his grumbling about the baseball, Aaron’s quiet snort and eyes that laughed more than his mouth did, alcohol-sticky wood beneath his feet as he made his way to the bathroom, the taste of Aaron’s beer on his lips, Aaron’s cool fingers a balm against his cheek, his mouth a searing heat burning all the way through Kevin.

Then when Kevin’s TA dropped out because of ‘unmanageable stress’ (which was not Kevin’s fault, no matter what Dan says, she and Matt can fuck off) and he had to scramble to figure out what to do, Abby had offered one of her tutors—but only for marking, Kevin, he has no base in history. He’s just smart enough to use a rubric and willing to help. Between this and Jean’s long-suffering offer to lead the tutorial that didn’t clash with his meetings with his advisor, and even Neil’s unlikely assistance in the form of helping restructure the syllabus, it all seemed pretty manageable. (The history department had quietly come to the conclusion that this was not, strictly speaking, acceptable by university standards, but elected to ignore this information until the conclusion of the semester. As far as Kevin’s been able to tell in his years in academia, this is how things tend to work.)

When Abby showed up at his office with Aaron, though, Kevin's cheeks had gone hot enough that she’d asked him if he was sure he wasn’t coming down with a stress fever. Aaron's face had stayed blank, but his eyes were – amused.

It was one thing when Aaron had been the regular third person in the staff room late at night alongside Jeremy and Kevin, rubbing his eyes as he scowled at whatever it was he was looking at. (Anatomy exams, Kevin found out later.) He’d been mostly quiet, but sharply funny when he’d ended up interacting with them, mostly starting with indelicate snorts at whatever madcap thing Jeremy was saying, then incredulous stares at Kevin’s rebuttal, and finally muttered jabs as he worked the coffee machine and Jeremy laughed delightedly and Kevin stared at him with disbelief and a slow-building warmth in the base of his stomach.

It was yet another thing when Aaron had been the guy he bundled up Jeremy with, the guy he got drunk with for hours in a sports bar, the guy who laughed at him and offered him buffalo wings so spicy that they made Aaron’s cheeks red and Kevin’s lips feel like they were on fire, until Aaron kissed him, tipsy outside the bar, the warmth spreading through Kevin overtaking both the chilly night air and the spice-stained echoes on Kevin’s mouth.

But it was another thing entirely for Aaron to be Aaron, meaning Abby's favourite postgrad and the guy who diligently read Kevin’s syllabus on top of his own work just to better understand the marking rubric and hater of psych majors everywhere. Aaron, with his tired eyes and quiet laugh and complete inability to answer a phone call from his brother in a normal way. (At one point, Kevin had been half-concerned he was ordering a hit—less about the morality or legality of the situation, more in a if you get arrested, I’m screwed again type way—until Neil had shown up half an hour later with lunch for Aaron and Aaron had gone, ugh and Neil had rolled his eyes, spotted Kevin, and turned to Aaron to say, you’re one to talk. Aaron had flushed a little, then scowled and flipped Neil off, and said fuck off, to which Neil said, gladly, then see you at dinner? And Aaron had waved his hand. If you eat your fucking vegetables, to which Neil had laughed, and flipped him off, and walked out. Kevin had stared at Aaron, nonplussed, but Aaron had ignored him, focusing instead on the test he was marking while he ate the sandwich Neil had brought.) Aaron, with his unbelievably rude opinions about Kevin’s lack of video game knowledge, and the genuinely unreasonable amount of sour gummies he can put away in an hour, and the unbearably soft look he gets on his face when he’s sleepy and huffy and Kevin has gently dragged away whichever test he’s marking or article he’s reading that’s made him so grumpy late at night.

Aaron, who Kevin actually knows now. And likes even more for it, which is inconvenient and inopportune and probably inevitable.

Kevin clears his throat. “People are meant to try and win in sports,” he says. “History is about things that have already happened. It’s a different ballpark.” There’s a moment, and then, “They’ve already lost the battle. I'm not rooting for anything else there.”

Something flares up in Aaron's eyes at that, and he snakes his hand forward, tugging on Kevin's tie. Kevin, hands still holding onto the bench, allows it.

“But sports are about victory?” Aaron asks.

He’s not even subtle about procrastinating, Kevin thinks. He wants to laugh. He swallows a sigh instead, and says, a little warningly, “Aaron…”

But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t stop Aaron, doesn’t do anything to stop him. Maybe leans in a little, even.

“Yeah,” Kevin says after a long moment. “History, you live or you die. Sports, you’re the best or you’re not.”

“That's a reductive way of looking at the world,” Aaron says, but it’s that tone he gets sometimes, the one where Kevin doesn’t know if he believes it or if he just wants to poke at Kevin a little. Kevin hates that he likes it as much as he does; that he lets it stoke him up, bites at the bit every time.

“You are not subtle,” Kevin murmurs. The tests are sitting on the table behind Aaron, staring up at the ceiling. Aaron's coffee is abandoned, probably cold.

You are not subtle, Kevin says, and means it, but Aaron’s cocked his eyebrow at him, and there’s something a little taunting in his eyes, and he’s still holding onto Kevin’s tie, and something in Kevin loosens. He sighs, and lets go of the bench, tucking his fingers into Aaron's belt loops instead and pulling him forward.

“Is this a sport?” Aaron asks, because he’s a dick and facetious and he knows just how to make Kevin want to shut him up.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” Kevin scolds, and then leans forward to kiss the rebuttal out of Aaron's mouth.

#kevaaron #kevin day #aaron minyard #aftg #aftg fic #yet another thing written into mina's texts in the shower from a prompt she lovingly bequeaths me for my warm ups #this time we're playing in the flimsiest AU space ever but i had a 30hr migraine and needed a shower of progress so pls forgive me 🥺🫶#warm ups #jane writes sometimes #mina also fixed all the capitals and italics again bc she is the ultimate posting ambassador thank u mina i love u #do not look too closely at anything as ever i am just going with the flow

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judesmoonbeauty · 1 month ago

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New Year Blog Goals

Hey, hey!

In short, this is a thanks to you all for your support this year, JMB blog overhaul updates, and blog goals for 2025!

And in case you all don't read it (and that's cool): I wish you all heaps of happiness and warmth for the upcoming year!

So, I just wanted to take the time to sit down and thank you all so much for your support of my blog this past year!!

It was a bit crazy with my blog being reported and having a handful of my translations deleted by Tumblr (still traumatized by that), to personal irl things that happened with the weather and such. Anyways......

I started this blog just over a year ago solely to lurk for IkePri and IkeVil JP spoilers, but because I am impatient beyond words I decided to start playing JP servers myself.

One thing snowballed into another, and then I started translating and writing fanfics (which I thought I'd NEVER do)....and here we are.

Looking back to my very first translation (IkePri's New Year Event for 2024), I shudder....a lot. And then there is my first ever IkeVil translation (Ellis' Past Records), and I shudder even more......they are nightmares of a translation.

Still, looking back to then and comparing them to what I can accomplish now, I think I've come a long way and I hope to continue to progress.

And you all are to thank for that!

Truly, if it weren't for your feedback, kind words of support, your totally going feral with me, and so on, then I don't think I would've kept going!

Now then, this past January I had the most feeble and basic blog goal: Learn how to create master lists. LMAO.

Tumblr was so confusing to me when I first started, and it's still a pain in the ass to deal with tbh, but I think I can safely say that I accomplished that goal. I feel like I make master lists left and right now....

What's Next For JMB Blog?

Well, I am going to be making some changes to JMB overall:

Going forward, JMB will solely be my Ikevil translations blog. All creative content (dissections, fics, drabbles, OC content, IkeVil recipes, etc), will be moved to my other blog @.adreaminthesea.

Master lists will be reorganized so you can locate translations more easily.

IkePri translations: I've been wanting to return to this, but I feel like this will not happen in the future. Hence, past translations and summaries will be discarded now they've released on EN.

Finish Jude's Main Story prior to his release. I actually have a goal to finish this much sooner than late next year (but I'll keep that date to myself.)

Translate for more IkeVil suitors. Currently, I translate primarily for Jude, Ellis and Nica. While I do translate for the other suitors as well, I'd like to do it more - when time and energy permits.

Another IkeVil Main Story translation - However, this will potentially be a collaborative effort. Anyone up for a Vogel route???

More of a personal enrichment goal, but this will hopefully increase the quality of my translations: Dedicate more time to learning Japanese. I learn as I go and that's not the way to do it.

Writing: I used to write a lot more than what I do, and my wips list is longggg, so I'm hoping to get back into this and post my content on my ADS blog.

Have fun and engage with you all more! This means taking time to actually enjoy the events I play, reading others translations more (I am SO behind), and interacting with you all more.

I think that's a good list to keep me busy all year. Of course, adjustments are going to be made along the way, and I already know that I won't be able to accomplish it all fully. Still, let's see what we can do.

#c's corner #JMB blog updates #Blog goals #pardon my dust #dividers: @.strangergraphics & @.natimiles

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ceriiseleceriise · 9 months ago

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Self Care (M)

omega!renjun

wc: 4.8k

synopsis: renjun decides to take on his first heat the best way he knows how, as luxuriously as possible.

cw: smut...a lot of it. in immense detail. sex toys, pornography, multiple orgasms, unrealistic amounts of cum, stomach bulge, male squirting/watersports (depending on what you consider squirt to be lmao), overstimulation, cum eating, dildo sucking, mentions of fictional heat related illnesses, america-centric world building, a bitch with no friends attempting friendly dialogue.

a/n: well here it is! first full fic. believe it or not this was meant to be no longer than 1k, then i realized i get kinda pissed when fics don't include enough context for elements in the fic so i'd be a hypocrite if i didn't paint a likely unnecessarily vivid picture. feedback is much appreciated!

we love u very dearly junnie B💛

❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈

The sound of the dryer finishing its freshly washed load of delicates interrupted his fifth run through of his checklist. “Ok, let’s see….lube? Check. Waterproof blankets? Check. Three hour long Alpha on Alpha porn playlist? Check.” Renjun finally sighed with relief. It’s not everyday he obsesses over the amount of lube he has in his arsenal (he restocks his eight oz bottle of sliquid sassy every eight weeks on the dot), but it’s a special occasion. The special occasion.

He rebukes the term “late-bloomer”, despite the average age for an omega’s first heat occurring around eighteen. Renjun has always justified his lack of mating cycles with his ever present practicality. “You were absolutely ridiculous for a week straight until your heat broke.” He recalls to Donghyuck during their semi-regularly scheduled facetime catch-up they’ve adopted post grad school.

“I had so much going on freshman year, it would’ve made no sense for me to have to deal with a heat. Twenty-four is a way better age anyways, my prefrontal cortex is like eighty-five percent done, I can actually handle my brain being scrambled eggs for five days”. He says passively, ignoring the unimpressed look coming from the boy on the other side of the phone.

He unfortunately remembers the horrors of hearing Donghyuck’s first heat through their paper mache dorm room walls when they were eighteen, and the next heat three months later, and the next eighteen heats he endured as Donghyuck’s roommate. He’s convinced the boy has had enough heats for the both of them, especially considering Renjun was held solely responsible for ensuring his dear friend didn’t die of hunger or dehydration through them. It's a thankless job, but someone had to do it.

“Right, so I guess twenty-four is also the age where you’re finally gonna finish growing huh? Prime time to finally reach big boy height.” Donghyuck quips back, taking a break from grading assignments to goad the blonde boy giving him a deadpan stare through the phone.

“Bitch you’re literally 5’6 1/2 what are you talking about?” Renjun retorts, “it’s no way you’re calling me short when you just complained about how you cant find shoe lifts in canada.” Donghyuck widens his eyes in shock. “Talking about shoe lifts when you just begged me to ask Doyoung if he could hem those jeans 6 inches shorter is crazy work Renjun.”

They continue their childlike bickering over their similarly petite frames for an unreasonable amount of time, before Donghyuck remembers the real reason for today’s meeting. “Ok but seriously, how are you feeling about this whole thing? I know it’s kinda a lot at once, be honest with me?” Donghyuck starts. He woke up two days ago to Renjun’s frenzied calls, knowing his friend was well aware that waking hours for him in Atlanta were still Donghyuck’s “dead to the world” hours in Vancouver, he was for certain there was an actual emergency.

Renjun had woken up with a pounding headache, abdominal cramps, and the unsettlingly wet mouth feel that comes right before vomiting. He knew what that meant, but refused to actually confront what was happening until Donghyuck got a look at him and convinced him to go to the omega urgent care. Donghyuck sat on the phone with him while he waited for the doctor, cheered as Renjun got the confirmation he was in pre-heat (much to Renjun’s dismay), and helped him pick the best painkillers to aid his cramps and headache. It was the best he could do from another country, fighting the urge to book a flight to go support his best friend in what’s easily the most important event in an omega's life. His husband only barely managed to convince him it was unnecessary and that they could just send him a nice care package in the mail on expedited shipping, Mark was always the level headed one in the relationship.

Renjun sighed before he could answer. “To keep it one-hundred percent real with you, I’m terrified. Like am I gonna be okay? What if I fuck up somehow and I end up never being able to have kids or something insane? Anything could happen?” Renjun said, ever the worrywort and full of trepidation about new experiences. Donghyuck scoffed, rolling his eyes at the catastrophization of the world’s most natural activity. “Friend, how could you possibly fuck up jerking off? You’ve had a solid twelve years of experience for this, relax!” Renjun shut his eyes and huffed in annoyance, “Obviously that’s not what I’m worried about idiot. I’m worried that I won’t be able to actually satisfy myself through the whole thing, and you know what happens if I can’t be fully satisfied.” Donghyuck sighs in acknowledgement.

Continuous Heating Syndrome, colloquially known as a heat frenzy, is a rare but unfortunate side effect of a heat that goes unsatiated. Nonstop migraines, vomiting, loss of motor function, seizures, or shit...even worse. Donghyuck has heard horror stories of omegas having perfectly normal heats that turn into three week stints at the hospital after they couldn’t break. Scary shit. Rare for all omegas, but increasingly likely for an unmated omega without consistent access to a knot, a category which Renjun unfortunately falls into. “Look at it this way” Donghyuck starts, “It’s not like you have no options at all. You don’t necessarily have to do this alone.” Renjun grimaces. He knows exactly where Donghyuck is going with this, and he’s not even remotely here for it.

“I’m not calling the heat hotline.” Renjun was scared, not desperate. He had no reason to hire a random Alpha who needed extra money to come fuck him for five days straight, he could figure something else out for sure. “Oh girl please!” Donghyuck exclaims, “That’s literally exactly what you need right now! They’re super strict about testing so you won’t have to worry about that, plus it’s covered by your insurance? What is the issue?” Renjun rolls his eyes, ‘The issue is that you think i’m supposed to just randomly fuck the first alpha who doesn’t look like he snuck on the planet just to stop myself from going into a coma, I have options bitch!”

Donghyuck scoffs, “Sure you do. Is now the time when Jen and Jae finally jump through the screen of their newest edging scene to keep you company through your heat? Porn only takes you so far, friend.” Renjun hates that Donghyuck knows him well enough to know he’s been anxiously scouring his favorite alpha pornstars’ onlyfans to find some semblance of relief through his rapidly approaching week of agony. “I have toys! So many toys! I don’t need an alpha at all, I have like six different vibrating cocks to choose from” Renjun grumbled. He was a fully self sufficient twenty-four year old omega who doesn’t need an alpha! Or so he continues to force himself to believe.

“If you’re gonna be stubborn about it, the least you can do is be safe.” Donghyuck says, his worried expression softening the defensive stance Renjun has adopted. “You do have someone nearby right? Just in case you need someone to check in on you in person?” “Of course, Yangyang and Chenle are in the building down the street, if I need a restock on anything or if I start overheating and dying I can call them.” Renjun replies, in an attempt to calm his friend from his concerns. “You’re not gonna die girl. Especially since I found the perfect thing to help you out!” Donghyuck beams, giving Renjun his signature “I’ve done something I know you won’t like but I’m smart enough to know it’s what you need" look.

“Is it a dick? Don’t buy me a dick Hyuck I swear to god.” Renjun says, “Is that what you’ve been doing this whole time? Dick shopping instead of feeling sorry for me? I can't believe this.” “If it makes you feel better it’s not a dick, you have so many other ones another would be excessive, even for me. You’re gonna love it though! All those fears of heat frenzy are gonna go right out the window!” Renjun eyes the brunette through the screen suspiciously, Donghyuck’s odd enthusiasm has been the catalyst to multiple cautionary tales Renjun is saving for his grandkids. Now might be the worst time to let his guard down. “I swear to god, if it’s something weird i’m sending it back and getting a restraining order.” Donghyuck giggles in nefarious delight, “It’ll be at your doorstep in two days!” Renjun groans in horror.

Renjun is shaken from his daydream riddled with Donghyuck’s alarming cackles by the sound of the doorbell being rang for the fourth time. “Oh! Coming, coming, so sorry!” He yells out, rushing to the front door to see his instacart delivery driver struggling to hold Renjun’s last minute groceries. The poor guy takes a deep breath and tries not to look nearly as phased as he is by Renjun’s sweet bergamot scent. “I-I wasn’t able to find the caramel pecan cookies, so I got you an extra box of kitchen sink cookies, I hope that’s ok?” The man stutters, clearly fighting the urge to comment on what smells like the sweetest omega he’d ever met. “Oh no worries! Thank you so much, they always go out of stock pretty quick.” Renjun replies, now increasingly aware of the alpha’s growing nervousness and intensified teakwood scent.

He hurries to grab the groceries from the boy and set them on his kitchen counter. “Here you go!” Renjun says, handing over his nice ten percent tip for the guy’s troubles. “T-T-Thank you!” he replies, after making a horribly obvious attempt at trying to inhale as much of Renjun’s residual scent on the ten dollar bill. Renjun awkwardly waves him goodbye, and closes the door of his apartment asking whichever deity that watches over him why he couldn’t have already been mated to avoid having to endure that. The plights of a single omega, he thinks to himself, now rapidly moving towards his kitchen to take final inventory.

His heat is scheduled to begin sometime tonight, made clear by his overwhelming scent and his unbearable body temperature. He’s already considered turning his air conditioner up higher, but realizing that his poor plants would hate to live in a house that’s fifty-five degrees for a week straight, he suffers in a scantily clad haze. He’s stocked up with seven cases of water, four boxes of cookies, six frozen pizzas, and three family sized bags of chicken nuggets. His poor air-fryer will be working overtime this week, Renjun is fully prepared to only have twenty minutes of energy between heat spikes to keep himself semi-sufficiently nourished. He grabs an armful of waters and sports drinks he’d picked up earlier that week to carry them to his room. He placed them next to the other small snacks he’d put in his mini fridge conveniently sitting next to his nest, there was no way he’d be able to make it to the kitchen after the first few rounds and immediate hydration was a non-negotiable.

Renjun took a moment to be proud of himself. He was a single omega preparing for the most intense and important event of his life. All those incredibly awkward sex-ed lessons he endured in middle school, and the trauma-inducing nights spent handing Donghyuck and Mark bottles of gatorade and fruit snacks while trying to avoid seeing any genitals had finally led up to this moment. Renjun was fully prepared. Renjun was gonna be okay.

His doorbell rings again. This time unexpectedly. He opens the door to find another delivery man, this time an omega, Renjun can tell by the soft lavender scent. “Order for Renjun Huang?’ The man asks. Renjun grimaces at the horrifically American butchering of his name, giving a pleasant but unsure smile. “Yes! That’s me” Renjun replies, taking a look at the ominously large box the man is holding. "Great, sign here please” He grumbles, trying to make quick work of what Renjun can only presume is his last delivery of the day. Renjun makes quick work of scribbling his signature on the dotted line, before mumbling a quick thank you and grabbing the box. It’s oddly heavy, which wouldn’t be too concerning, until he took a closer look at the label and read ‘From: Mark and Donghyuck ♡,” in Donghyuck’s messy half cursive half print handwriting.

“Oh dear god” Renjun thinks, now the weight of the box is a genuine cause for concern. He heaves the box to his counter and takes a deep breath before cutting it open. Much to his surprise, it’s all normal nice things. He pulls out a box of the maple cookies Renjun became obsessed with when Mark brought them back a box after returning to campus from his thanksgiving break in Vancouver, the ones Renjun was pissed to find out aren’t available in Atlanta. He sees a stuffed bear and stuffed cheetah wrapped in plastic, Renjun pulls them out to admire the resemblance to his dear friends before he realizes they were both scented like Hyuck and Mark. Renjun could just cry. He felt so loved and cherished by his best friend, how loving and thoughtful Donghyuck always was despite being a smug piece of shit ninety percent of the time. He’s been wanting nothing more than to experience one of their “cuddle puddles”, that while Renjun would always protest, he secretly loved. He pulls out a lovely soft yellow blanket with pretty little ruffles on the ends, perfect to go in his nest for added comfort. Wrapped in the blanket is a little note:

“You’re gonna have a great time Junnie! Don’t overthink things, just relax and enjoy the ride! We love you so very much! - Hyuckie and Markie”

Renjun is tearing up, his friends love him so much, he’s gonna be okay! Then he sees another box at the bottom, hidden by the blanket and other gifts before it. He shimmies the black box out of the larger brown one and places it on the counter, now able to get a full look at what the picture on the box is displaying. The tears instantly dry. The feelings of love and admiration are replaced with immediate annoyance.

In a scary showcase of friendship telepathy, his phone rings, lighting up with the picture Donghyuck took of his flared nostrils freshman year. Renjun sighs, then answers the phone. “Why would you buy me a fuck machine?” Renjun stares into the phone, hoping to look as menacing as he can in a hello kitty headband holding his blonde strands from his face. “I see you got our present.” Donghyuck replies, shit eating grin so intense his lips were threatening to split apart. “I told you I had just the thing in mind for your heat girlie!” Renjun huffs with the full intent to call Donghyuck everything but a child of god, but he’s getting hotter and the throbbing between his legs is getting more intense. Tonight he chooses peace. “In seven days you’ll begin to cough” he says, and hangs up the phone to let out a loud exasperated grunt.

Now the real preparation begins. Renjun walks over to his dryer and pulls out his satin robe he’d freshly washed for the occasion. He makes his way over to his bathroom to begin the most intense shower he’s had since his last failed date with an alpha he met on Wolfr. “Nice dick, horrendous vibes.” Renjun shudders at the memory. “Maybe that’s just how guys from Connecticut are? Connecticut is barely a real place, who cares.” He pauses his internal monologue for a moment to place a vanilla scented shower steamer in the corner of the tub. He lights himself a few overpriced indie candles he got from a small business bazaar in the city, and starts easing himself out of his tiny shorts.

He takes his time pulling the silky fabric of his briefs, gently coaxing his dick out of the fabric. He shudders at the cold air hitting his half-hard cock, sending shivers up his spine and another light stream of slick out of his tip. “Fuck,” He moans softly, entirely too aroused for his own good. He pulls his shirt over his head, shuddering again when the air hits his puffy swollen nipples. He takes the time to get a full look at himself in the full size mirror. “Fuck I’m hot. No wonder that Alpha almost popped his knot earlier,” Renjun smiles to himself confidently.

He makes his way into the shower, taking a deep breath of the warm vanilla scent circling him, meshing wonderfly with his own light citrusy aroma. The hot water of the shower electrifies Renjun’s body, he takes a moment to soak in the amazing feeling of the heat comforting his aching limbs. He starts with his favorite lemon and honey scented body wash to begin carefully massaging his arms and chest with the warm and fruity bubbles.

The sensation of the lather was already driving him crazy, absolutely loving the way his hands gilded seamlessly over his hips and ass. Renjun wasn’t normally the type to be so turned on by his own body, he guesses it’s just the excess hormones making any sight of bare skin immensely arousing. He snaps out of his hormone induced stupor to remember that he has a whole shower routine to get through, so he gives his soft chest a final squeeze, then moves back under the welcoming stream of the water to rinse himself clean. He grabs his body scrub and locks in for the remainder of his shower.

Renjun emerges in a cloud of sugary citrus air, intoxicating even to himself. He wraps himself in his gold satin robe, and makes his way to his vanity for his finishing touches. Renjun digs through his copious amounts of products to find the expensive body oil he’s been saving for this very occasion. He strips off his robe, and starts massaging the oil into his skin, starting at his legs. Every dip his fingers make into his skin brings him closer to ecstasy. Closer to what he knows is gonna be the most intense feeling of his life. He’s just barely finished rubbing himself down when he starts leaking a new stream of slick from his puckered asshole.

“Oh shit, that must mean it’s about to be time huh?” He figures, moving to wrap his robe around him yet again to avoid his neighbors getting a free show through his open blinds. He draws the curtains, dims the lights, and connects his television to his laptop for an optimized viewing experience. He already has his nightly entertainment pulled up, three hours of Jen and Jae’s best material. Nothing that riles Renjun up more than seeing an alpha take a eleven inch dick like he was made for it.

He settles into the spot he carefully carved into his nest, when he lays his eyes on the pretty yellow blanket Donghyuck sent him in his care package. Then he thinks about what else was present in the care package. He pauses for a second, thinking about how he actually hadn’t even taken the fuck machine out of the box. “Well obviously I didn’t take it out the box, I’m not giving Hyuck the satisfaction of knowing I used a toy he gave me,” Renjun thinks to himself. Then again, it’s not as if Hyuck has to know Renjun used it. Then again, it’s not as if using it could be a bad idea, Renjun considers.

He drags himself out of bed to collect the box from the kitchen counter, setting it down on his bed as he begins to actually open the machine. He definitely recognizes the machine, it’s pretty famous among omega content creators due to its lightweight build and convenient suction cup base to accommodate any dildo the user pleases. He looks over at the extended assortment of toys he’s curated for tonight’s events: a vibrating fleshlight for his cock and three different dildos in ascending length and thickness for his differing stages of need. Renjun felt his hole flutter with excitement as another gush of slick slid down his thighs.

He thinks about it for a moment, considering how much nicer it'd be if he didn’t have to be responsible for thrusting his toys in and out of his slicked hole. He decides to use the suction cup base of the fuck machine to attach it to the headboard of his bed, checking the height of his placement to ensure it would be the perfect height for him to comfortably get backshots from the toy. If he’s desperate enough for it he, reasons, first choosing to hold off from letting Donghyuck be right about something for as long as possible. With the machine firmly secured, Renjun settles back into his comfy spot in the nest. He takes off his robe, presses play on his laptop, and reaches for his fresh bottle of lube to start massaging his warm cock.

He’s 10 minutes into watching Jae eat Jen’s ass when Renjun finally has his first orgasm. His little heaves and moans fill the room as he milks himself of his well deserved release. “Ooh…ahh…ahh...fuck!” He shouts, pulling himself further into overstimulation as his vision starts to haze over. He’s laying in a puddle of hot slick, constantly pumping out more and more as he keeps toying with his cock. He’s using his other hand to pump his fingers furiously in his asshole, loving the searing sensation of his hole stretching over his digits. “Mmm fuck...fuck, ooh make him cum Jae” he moans, picturing himself as the pornstars’ third wheel in their bedroom.

He realizes his hands aren’t gonna cut it though, he releases his cock from his vice grip and winces as he pulls his fingers from his ass to grab his fleshlight and the smallest dildo from the pile. “Oh shit,” he hisses, feeling that same intoxicating stretch to the next degree as he tries to slip the seven inch toy deep inside. He needs another large squirt of lube to get the job done, a sign he hasn’t completely gone into heat quite yet, letting his semi-delirious brain know he still has some semblance of self-control.

He pours another squirt of lube directly into the fleshlight, giving it a few pumps with his fingers, and then using those same fingers to pump his cock, before squeezing his drained but solid dick into the tight slippery hole. He’s fully entranced in the sensations of his body now, leaking so much slick his toy keeps slipping out of his hole. The throbbing between his legs is reaching an ungodly peak, rushing his second orgasm into him like a train. “Ahhhh FUCK,” he screams, feeling the pulse of his prostate send him into overdrive. His cum and slick is pooling at the base of his dick, overflowing the fleshlight and adding to the lewd sounds deafening his ears.

He makes a move to turn up the vibrations on the toy, barely getting a chance to move his hand from the button before the pulse of his third release shakes him to the core. Renjun is completely lost at this point, barely aware of anything around him other than his seemingly never ending fountain of cum and the hypnotic sights and sounds of his favorite muscle bottom getting dicked within an inch of his life. God he wishes that was him taking alpha meat. Then he remembers it totally can be him. He grabs the biggest dick he owns, neglecting any more prep that the fifteen minutes of intense pounding hasn’t provided, and sticks the heavy dildo to the waiting base of the fuck machine.

He positions himself comfortably in front of the plastic cock, taking a moment to admire his mess on his satin sheets. “S-Shit…ohhh fuck,” he hisses as he shoves the toy into his ass. He barely gives himself a moment to adjust before he reaches for the remote to start the lowest thrusting pattern, desperate for the feeling of his hole getting stretched to its limits. Renjun lets out a low groan while the toy picks up speed. He clicks it up to the second level and jolts as the tip of the cock starts hitting his prostate. “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh,” he groans, spilling more slick onto his sheets and sliding into his fourth orgasm, leaving his mind completely broken. He sets his fleshlight to its highest vibration and suction level, and shakes himself into another release.

If he had any ability to think critically he would be concerned for the amount of fluid leaking into his mattress, considering he’d completely forgotten to lay down the waterproof blankets he was so intent would save him a massive cleaning bill, especially since the cock in his ass causes another surge of slick to shoot from his hole. Nearing delirium, Renjun decides the dual stimulation still isn’t enough. He wants even more, he needs even more.

The smell of his slick and cum is intoxicating, leaving his brain just as fried as the underpaid alpha that nearly sprung a leak at his door earlier. He grabs the smaller dildo that he used to work his ass open at the start of his playtime, and gave it a slow lick from the balls to the tip. Tasting himself on the toy made his next orgasm even harder, sucking the head of the dildo like it was an actual alpha. Throating the cock to it’s hilt like Jae himself was fucking his throat. Renjun was officially in heat, too spent to think, and too horny to care.

With the last bit of his reflexes he has left, he manages to switch the fuck machine to it’s highest setting, and prepares himself for the ride of his life. “Ohhhhh Shit! Oh Shit! Fuckkkkkk,” he stutters, forming the last coherent phrases he’ll be saying for a while. His head is absolutely pounding, reality is bending, and all he knows is fact are the loud moans he and Jen are churning out along with the surge of energy rushing through his ass and cock. “Ahh oh my god, oh my god,” he screams, ushering himself into otherworldly realms of pleasure.

His cock is being milked to extremes he didn’t know were possible, the pumping motions of the fleshlight sending streams of cum all over his balls and thighs from where the toy could no longer hold his load. He groans as the cock in his ass pounds into his prostate, sending him further into the orgasmic spiral he has no intention of leaving. He’s coming down from his tenth orgasm when he finally decided to give his dick a break, pulling the toy milking him for the last two hours off his cock and throwing it to the side, in the interest of laying face down ass up, fully submitting to the plastic cock he’s worshiping with every fiber of his being.

He can barely make any sounds other than small gurgles when he starts craving his own musk again, grabbing the fleshlight and sticking his tongue as deep as he can into the sopping wet hole, basking in the scent of his pleasure. He slurps up his essence as he feels his ass getting tighter, the dildo seemingly rutting rougher and rougher to break through his grip. He slides himself back even further on the toy, taking all eleven inches impossibly deep, crying out at the feeling of his stomach bulging from the cock mixing up his guts. Renjun is lost in the vortex of his heat, unable to do anything but scream in pleasure in between licking his fleshlight like it’s a real asshole, when he feels it.

His eyes go wide, his ass locks up around the plastic knot completely, the overwhelming pleasure forcing his body to mate with the cock rearranging him. The toy stops moving in and out, too suffocated by Renjuns slick walls to complete a full cycle of motion, instead sending deep thuds of pressure directly on his prostate. His eyes start rolling back as his body starts convulsing, unable to control his movements. His loud moans turn to deafening screams when a long stream of clear liquid shoots from his cock. He cries out in pleasure as he lets out endless gushes of liquid, soaking through whatever parts of his mattress weren’t already sticky with slick. His voice starts to taper off into quieter whines, soon after, Renjun’s vision goes black.

Renjun wakes up thirty minutes later, slightly less attached to the toy. Its batteries must’ve died sometime between him squirting and passing out, but Renjun has little recollection of anything that occurred once his first heat spike hit. He hears the faint sound of his pornstars giving each other aftercare from what must’ve been a similarly intense scene in the background, figuring he should follow in Jen’s footsteps and have a bottle of water.

He rolls over in his nest, taking in the absolutely ruined state of his bed, along with the extremely satisfied feeling in his body. “Woah,” he thinks, “I gotta get Hyuck a Waffle House gift card or something.”

#renjun smut #huang renjun smut #whew chile #nct smut #nct dream smut #i promise this wasn't supposed to be this long lmaoooo #junnie b<333 #ieezysfics #omegaverse smut #nct a/b/o

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eddiestightywhities · 2 months ago

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SNIPPET SUNDAY

so there i was minding my own business working away on my s08e08 coda when BAM! charlie @playinginthunderstorms goes and drops THIS SHOW-STOPPING FIC and completely derails my efforts by inspiring me to write a completely different fic that is also a coda for s08e08 lmao. having writer friends is never, ever boring, amirite?!

anyways here's an excerpt seeing as i thought i'd get it finished tonight but didn't and need the motivation to keep going with it asfhjhsk

ps pls be kind as it's completely unedited xp

now complete and found HERE on ao3

“Take it off.”

Buck looks up to where Eddie is standing in the door jam, big hands on slim hips and pink lips pinched.

“Huh?” he replies.

Because huh?

Eddie gives him The Look; his patented Buck look.

“Buck,” he says in the exact same way Buck just heard it in his head.

Then Eddie's eyebrows shoot up in the way Buck knows to mean you know what I mean, and although most of the time Buck knows precisely what Eddie means with just one pointed eyebrow-raise, right now he has zero clue of whatever it is Eddie is trying to tell him.

“What?” he says, his own brows asking half the question for him.

Eddie sighs, and it's kind of pained and long-suffering, which—fair.

“The hoodie, lover-boy. Take it off.”

The penny-drop is immediate.

For some reason, Buck blushes a little under Eddie's gaze—and maybe a little at his use of the weirdly alluring moniker.

Buck is wearing one of Tommy's hoodies.

He doesn't pout, but it's a close thing.

“But it's—Eds, it's the only thing I have left of him,” he protests, voice pathetically brittle and small.

Eddie's eyes go so soft you could top hot chocolate with them and cover them in squirty cream.

“Look, Buck, keeping it is bad enough. But wearing it? That's some pretty solid self-sabotaging behaviour, man. Trust me; I should know.” His words are cleanly direct, as they always are, only his mouth treats them with such gentleness, and such care, that Buck kind of wants to cry.

Eddie always looks after him. Always works hard to keep Buck's heart safe from harm.

Buck pictures it now, his heart laying uselessly in his friend's cupped hands as it continues to pump Buck's blood out of its floppy ventricles, even though there's nowhere left for it to go.

Tommy left him.

They all leave, eventually. Because everybody leaves Buck, he should know that by now.

Everyone except Eddie.

Adversely, though, it was only yesterday that Eddie had told Buck about his absolutely batshit crazy idea of moving back to El Paso, after which Buck's brain had consequently stopped sending messages to his body to tell it how to breathe.

He remembers picturing Yesterday Eddie crushing Buck's heart in a tight fist, blood and viscera oozing out from between his fingers and dripping down over his knuckles, right onto the sparkling white kitchen tiles. Then, rounding the table and chairs to step on the pedal bin pedal, he'd proceeded to throw Buck's heart away into the trash bag along with the rest of the trash.

Somehow though, in the space between the last of Buck's now-crushed heartbeats and him blinking back to reality, Buck had managed to snap out of the fucked-up vision to remind his body to keep working in the way that it's supposed to.

He'd then forced a plastic smile onto his face and painted it with as much selfless understanding as he could muster, before coming out with, “Well, we should move this party to the couch,” and offering himself up as a Realtor Virtual Meeting Wingman like a certified insane person.

Buck loved Eddie—he was his best friend in all the world—so what the fuck was he doing helping the guy turn his life into a living hell?

But helping being his first instinct was what made him realise he loved Eddie and Christopher enough to give them up, if that's what it was going to take to facilitate them getting their happiness back.

…Or so he thought.

As much as he had tried—and by god, he had really, really tried—Buck just couldn't keep up the Supportive Best Friend charade for very long.

That's when all hell had broken loose.

you can now read the completed fic HERE on ao3!

tags are under the cut, play or nay:

@inell @rosieposiepuddingnpie @sortasirius @angela-feelstoomuch @woodchoc-magnum @kitteneddiediaz @buddiebeginz @watchyourbuck @treasurehuntbuck @daffi-990 @colonoscopys @shitouttabuck @lamardeuse @idealuk @veronae-buddie @isaacthedruid @team-118 @wildehacked @playinginthunderstorms @kyoteugly @hotshotsxyz

#snippet sunday #buddie #buddie wip #buddie fic #911 spoilers #my wips #cassidy writes #eddiestightywhities

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mithrilhearts · 5 months ago

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Look at me getting to this 500 years later (I'm so sorry!!) Anyway.

Thank you both so much, @cilil & @laurfilijames for sending me this ask game thingy!! I figured I'd just do it in one post, so I hope that's okay, but here we go!

I think picking my "favorite fics" of mine is like, asking a parent to pick their favorite child - not easy, in most cases I guess lol...but I will do my best and explain why! These are all based off of fics I've COMPLETED, and by no means reflects on my love and affection for the other stories I've written. I love them all for their own reasons, otherwise I wouldn't have written them.

In no particular order...

May Your Forge Burn Bright - This is THE original longfic from me. I started this back when I was creeping my way out of RP and into fanfiction, and was nothing more than an independent baby writer. (Been writing a long time, just never like this), and the story means so much to me, as well as the commentary from readers along the way. It's still my longest fic to date, and I love a good "alternate first meeting" fic. It's the OG, and you can't replace that.

Dragonhearted - The Hobbit & Beauty and The Beast are my two FAVORITE stories, and mashing them together like this was perfect for me. Dragon!Thorin is such a fun concept for me, and badass Bilbo is another. This setting just WORKS. (Also, did you know @i-did-not-mean-to had a BLANKET made for this fic???)

Kurdu 'abadaz - That's right, I finished this one just recently, and it has easily stolen my heart to being a favorite. The Fix-it fic that I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to write, that went under a LOT of rehashing and had a huge overhaul in the story early on when planning. It turned out so much better than anticipated, and the love for this fic from readers/friends has been overwhelming.

Fuck Thy Neighbor - A VERY FUN ROM-COM STYLE MODERN AU!!! This really had me cackling the entire way through, and like a few other fics of mine, it spawned from a writer's ask game/tag game thing that I can't quite remember. Accidental marriage & neighbors? I love it. It's so funny, and I enjoy rereading it frequently for the laughs.

When Darkness Shines Brightest - Did you know that anything can be made into a Bagginshield Fic? Did you know that this fic spawned from a joke/conversation between @starthecozy and I and then erupted into this really original Hades/Persephone, Nightmare Before Xmas, blended style fic?? Various worlds and environments, powers over elements, and saving homes from a dragon?? The Onion Fic sprouted, and blossomed into one of my favorite stories, and I got to collaborate with Star the entire way through it, and we had SO MUCH FUN!!! Go give it a read, it's really neat!!

Honorable Mentions:

(Take Me Back To) The Night We Met - My entry for THAUC22 (partnered with the amazing @consultingpacha), and one of my FAVORITE concepts. Yet again, another "alternate meeting" style fic, featuring small kids Fili and Kili, rather than adults. What it sets up to at the end of the fic blends into the OG Hobbit story, but with a few small changes that I kind of want to explore one day in a sequel. 👀

Between Vices and Virtues - My entry for TRSB22 (partnered with @mysandwichranaway!!) First of all, I love working with Sandy, it's truly one of my favorite things on this good planet, and I can't wait to do it again - hopefully soon. Secondly, this was my take at a modern royalty AU, and learning about how to connect with the people around you. I have two sequels planned for this universe (even if this fic kind of felt like a let-down in terms of reception? but idc about that lmao) it was so fun for me. A light dusting of magic superstition in a modern au setting? Sign me up!

#raz answers #cilil #laurfilijames #bagginshield #bagginshield fic #the hobbit #i'm just gonna say it #GO GIVE THESE A READ!!! THEY'RE SO FUN!!!

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hackedmotionsensors · 7 months ago

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I went to library con (lol its not called library con but thats what i called it. Its American Library Association Annual which is funny bc they call it ALA and I was like...that shitty anime con???) this week in san diego to promote the comic I worked with Terry on "Eat your Heart Out"

I got jumpscared seeing the big banner. My art has never been on anything bigger than art center presentations lmao

We handed out signed copies and it was honestly pretty fun. I have a ton of bookmarks as well if anyone wants one.....if you can find me in real life LMAO

I also got to be on a PANEL like a big professional lmao And met Josie Campbell an animation brethren and we were like "LETS GO TAG! LETS GET THOSE NEGOTIATIONS!!!!" (Reminder that The Animation Guild is due to negotiate with studios in August so please support us!!!)

Downside was is that some of my sunburns are still really fresh (most of them are in gross peeling stage and some are...kinda painful) so I was a bit sweaty and uncomfortable...and now I'm paying for it bc i feel really under the weather.

BUT. lol my issues aside (it was my own damned fault getting burned the weekend before)

It was really fun!

Librarians are really cool lol Especially since I tried to get into that field during my unemployment last year and a half it was interesting hearing what they had to deal with as Librarians for children or teens (The teen librarians kept talking to me about Slam Dunk and One Piece *u*)

There's also this huge emphasis for book sellers in getting your books IN libraries. Books in actual physical libraries does so much for the value of payments of the book (which in turn pays the authors and artists that work on those books).

And how much librarians and libraries do for the industry as a WHOLE. I learned that back in the day when english manga was coming out they were binding the books REALLY SHITTY and its funny bc I DO remember that. The quality was really bad. And because librarians complained about it, because a book circulates through a lot of people rather than if you buy a volume for yourself, the book will get damaged really fast if the book is made poorly. So Viz had to change HOW they bound their books and you can definitely tell now how the quality is so much nicer.

Anyway it was really cool lol And also since it took place at the San Diego Convention center it was really cool to see what SDCC looks like when its not an absolute cluster fuck of people and noise lol I saw where I slept on the ground outside to get into Hall H and we were treated to a dinner at Roys which I'd only ever seen in passing lol (ALSO ROYS WAS SO EXPENSIVE!?!? And I thought the onigiri was like...the salmon went INTO the onigiri....so that was the dish. but it was...a ball of rice onigiri shaped with some salmon ...and it was REALLY good salmon and the misoyaki was good too but.....i was expecting really expensive onigiri and was oddly disappointed it wasn't....that.......anyway)

ANYWAY ANYWAY lmao. Our comic comes out in August 13! I've finally seen the finished product and it came out so well. Yknow that thing where you see your art from a few years ago and you want to crawl into a hole and die? Well lol I still feel that but also I don't because it honestly looks so good and its nice seeing it all in one whole place! The coloring came out really nice ! And I can't wait to see what Claudia did in the second half of the book

Oh yeah I also got a comped train ticket to get me down there and I got to ride the Amtrak which was pretty cool! I ...was EXHAUSTED on both trips down and back so I slept most of the way lmao But look at this guy!

Lol ALTHO I was genuinely surprised that when we came back from san diego the train just goes in reverse.

On shinkansen the seats on the train are able to turn around so you're always facing forwards. So it was a little disorienting at first. I also wished I had an ekiben on the way down.

Its cool I can get an ekiben in august when i go to japan lmao

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gooselycharm · 2 years ago

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hi there! i'd just like to say that your kris and noelle "something else" comic has been driving me insane /pos and i'd love to hear more of your thoughts on those two!! their relationship is one of my favorite things in deltarune and your comic just got everything about them so right 🙏

thank you for reading "something else"! oh man, [more of] my thoughts on kris+noelle.... i sure got some of those.

this was one of the first tweets i made after finishing chapter 2 nearly... freaking 2 years ago. and basically i've just been saying that over and over again in different ways because i'm still not tired of the concept yet and probably wont ever be LOL. i'm obsessed with how badly the narrative wants to force them into an easily categorizable dynamic, especially the romantic one in snowgrave. the literal THORN RING, the more possessive dialogue options, spamton calling noelle a side chick LOL... it all creates this unnerving visual novel bad end atmosphere that feels manufactured by someone who's only ever learned about romance through secondhand sources. they're two queer teens trying to navigate their changing relationship with the only role models they know being their parents' own failed heterosexual marriages. they're so divorced² (divorced children of divorce).

i also like that for being so tragically doomed coded they can be funny! both in a dark humor way and also like, genuinely funny, like the stories of them as kids with kris covering themselves in ketchup and hiding under noelle's bed lmao. i mean there's even something funny about the romantic trappings of the snowgrave route, like trying to put wedding cake embellishments on a crime scene... you know, funny like kids trying on their parents clothes but they're too big and for some reason they're also crying and covered in blood? um.

i'm also SOOOO interested to see how snowgrave will continue in chapter 3! i really liked the hopeful note chapter 2 ended on (well. i took it as hopeful anyway). there's that bit where noelle is talking to herself and she says something like "recently kris has been acting so strange and no one else has noticed... i have to figure out why" and then kris jumpscares her LOL but i think i took that one line and really ran with it. noelle really is the one who knows kris best and despite how scared she is, she's still determined to help them... i like the little subversion of victim/hero going on, the implication that kris might be the one who needs rescuing.

the additional story/lore that came with the spamton sweepstakes made me CRAAAZYYYYY like my GOD... it's cute that noelle likes glitches/creepypasta when kris is kinda a walking creepypasta <3 also, god, noelle falling asleep listening to kris playing piano in the other room... there's so much like. wistfulness and nostalgia and this like... distant/detached intimacy packed into how noelle narrates that scene. it's kind of funny how much there is to dig into when like on a surface level they're just fairly regular childhood friends who grew apart LMAO they're extremely deep to me okay...

on another note i guess i do ship them? i like their dynamic whether it's platonic or romantic (the best is a weird mix of both 👍). it just can't be boring LOL like... this is one ship where trying to apply cookie cutter tropes to them really falls flat and the game is ahead of you on that anyway. in terms of romantically shipping them, i honestly don't think they're doomed to repeat patterns forever... i think they could actually be good for each other! but that's not really the aspect of their relationship that interests me akldjf;alk;sdg maybe i will make 60 page comic of kriselle going to couples counseling some other time

ANYWAY i'm going to cut myself off here, because i really could go on forever lol. i'll give you some links for further reading though

hellspawnmotel's deltarune art

lula pillowbug99's deltarune art

this art by raspbearis which features prominently in my internal kriselle bible

my own unfinished kriselle playlist

my own essay on gender & allegory in deltarune if for some reason u are not tired of hearing me talk yet

okay bye now & thanks again for reading my comic!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#deltarune #kriselle #im post #im really posting now. i be talking.

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adaptacy · 1 year ago

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Hi! Love to see someone else who's obsessed with johnny! My request is headcanon/drabble/anything that gets you going about Johnny who happens to get a crush on someone who also is from cannibalistic family from another state/town? I'd like to imagine it's a family of grandpa's old military buddy maybe or something like that? Anyways ily and hope this gives you some inspo! <3

hi anon!! ofc, i already touched on this in my last post but i am more than happy to write a drabble for it!! also the idea of there being like a network of cannibal families that are all lowkey friends is so amusing to me LMAO

this is gonna be from johnny's pov cause his thought process would be fun to write hehe

GN Reader / s/o

"This is so good Mrs. Sawyer! Thank you so much for making this whole meal," they laughed, ripping the meat from the bone as they leaned back in their chair. Mrs. Sawyer chuckled and nodded, taking a bite of her own food.

Johnny narrowed his eyes, trying to get a read on them. Trying to understand something, anything about how the hell someone so gorgeous could be so incredibly fucked up. He knew this way of life was 'bad', he'd heard it from every single one of his victims. Monster this, sick that, fucked up family here, psychopaths there. And yet this stranger, at least to Johnny, sat across from the same dinner table as him, eating the same roasted human meat as him, and was laughing so carelessly about it.

Nancy had explained that they were a grandchild of one of the old man's friends from war, who came from a family not so unlike their own. They'd been flown down here due to some legal trouble, likely concerning the fact that their family were responsible for several murders, in order to hide out. All the way from Colorado.

And they'd complained about the heat. Not the fact that there were, right at this very moment, innocent, live victims tied up in their basement- No, that was hardly a concern. But oh, the Texas heat had them talking.

They were fascinating, really, and Johnny would be more upset that he had to give up his own room for them while they stayed here, but he was far too intrigued by them to care. They swallowed the final bite of their dinner and rose, gathering their plate. Sissy handed hers off as well, and they stopped by Johnny, motioning to his empty plate.

"Want me to take that?" They asked, a grateful smile on their face. Grateful for the dinner. Grateful for this illegal, criminally insane meal. Johnny chuckled.

"That's alright. I's planning on gettin' a glass of water, anyways," he responded, standing up. The rest of the family finished off their meals as Johnny followed them into the kitchen, where they ran the plates under the faucet.

"I don't think I've ever had roasted liver. Feels like a delicacy," they laughed, humming to themselves as they washed the dishes.

"Really? We make it pretty often. It's a hard thing to miss out on," Johnny responded, grabbing a glass and waiting for them to finish.

"Shoot, right," they mumbled, stepped to the side to allow Johnny to fill his glass. He stepped forward, dangerously close to them as he filled up his glass. When he was done, he took a step back and leaned on the counter, watching them as they finished their task.

"Oh, I meant to thank you, by the way. It's really nice of your family to take me in like this. I didn't know Grandpa Wilson was so close to Mr. Sawyer," they said, glancing over at Johnny with a smile.

There was something so innocently cruel about that expression. Like they saw no wrong in what they did. Like they didn't understand the weight of it. But he knew they understood. He knew their experiences were much the same. Johnny showed his experiences in his face, in his eyes, in the way he walked.

But they walked like anyone else. Spoke like anyone else. Smiled like anyone else. They were mesmerizing, and Johnny wished he knew how they did it.

"It's no problem," he replied, sipping his drink. "Sorry if it's messy. Don't often have guests."

"That's alright. I think your knife collection is really cool," they hummed, turning off the sink as they placed the final plate in the dish drainer. "I noticed one was missing, though. Did you lose it?"

"Oh, no," he chuckled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a curved blade. "Just like to keep it on me."

"Oh, sweet. Is it your favorite?" They asked, their head tilted.

"I 'spose you could say that. Gets the job done."

"Is that your carving knife?"

"Carving knife?" He blinked.

"Y'know, for the livestock. The victims, the food, the prey-- whatever you guys call 'em," they giggled, their tone completely free of the eeriness it should've been tainted with. Johnny had nearly forgotten what they were capable of, but at the reminder, he cracked a smirk. Maybe he could impress them.

"Yeah, you could call it that. Does a whole bunch'a things, really. Carves, slices, stabs... Used it to castrate a guy once." Johnny spun the knife in his hand, and they leaned closer.

"I had a favorite, too. But it got grabbed up by the cops. It was really shiny, nice and sharp. My grandma gave it to me when I was eight. Had it ever since. It was a switchblade, and the handle was white. Always looked especially pretty dripping with blood, but it was super easy to clean," they explained, practically gushing.

"I'm sorry to hear that. How'd you get caught, anyways?" Johnny asked, tucking his knife back into his pocket.

"My daddy used a gun to kill one of our prey, they were trying to get away and we needed something ranged. I guess some drivers heard it when they were passing by, and we weren't ready for the cops. Once they found one body, they found 'em all. Couldn't eat them in time," they explained, fidgeting with their hands as they spoke. "I miss them. I've never gone this long without them. That's why I'm so thankful of your family. They remind me of my own."

Johnny frowned, feeling some long buried ache of sympathy for them, but he wasn't granted a chance to respond before Sissy came into the kitchen, requesting their presence. They dipped their head and left, following the brunette back out of the kitchen.

"What is it?" They asked, looking down at the paper bag that they'd been presented with.

"Open it up," Johnny directed, motioning with his hand towards the bag. They raised an eyebrow, but pulled open the bag anyways, and reached inside. They pulled out a black rectangular box, and their confusion only grew. Johnny found the expression adorable, and he was glad he'd decided to go for two rounds of packaging.

"You really didn't need to get me anything. You're already doing plenty enough," they chuckled awkwardly, and Johnny shrugged, crossing his arms.

"Just open it, will ya?"

"Fine, okay." With a deep breath, they pulled off the lid of the box, and an immediate grin spread over their face. They looked between the gift and Johnny, and suddenly jumped towards him, wrapping their arms around him. Johnny was completely taken aback by the hug, and he awkwardly pat their back, only relaxing his tensed muscles when he got the faintest scent of whatever shampoo they'd used. Their hair smelled like flowers, and it reminded him of the garden. It was almost comforting.

They pulled away, finally removing the white switchblade from the box. "I'll take it that you like it?" Johnny chuckled, and they nodded, even giving a short squeal of excitement.

"Are you kidding me? I love it! It's just like the one I had. You're the best, Johnny," they thanked, setting the knife back into the box and putting the cover on it. Right after, they hugged Johnny again, and he let out a quiet sigh, returning the hug much more comfortably this time.

"Say, you ever watched a Texas sunset?" Johnny asked, looking down at them as they pulled out of the hug.

"I can't say I have."

"Well, in about thirty minutes, give or take, the sun'll be goin' down. I know a real good place to sit 'n watch it. Clear your head, maybe," he spoke softly, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn't blushing, but he certainly felt like he was.

"Really? Where?"

"We got a couple sunflower patches out back. Makes for a real pretty sight."

"I'd love to watch the sunset with you," they giggled, setting the box back into the bag. "Let me go put this away, I'll be right back."

"Sure thing," he replied, watching as they turned around and headed up the stairs.

Sissy poked her head in from the dining room, looking Johnny up and down. "Can I come?"

"No," he snapped, immediately frowning. Sissy pouted, but returned to whatever she was doing.

#johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter fluff #johnny slaughter tcm #tcmg #tcm game #texas chainsaw massacre #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter headcanons #johnny slaughter drabbles #adapting to johnny slaughter

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