#or you can just ask me and i'll probably answer!

[screamlet]

♞: Caring for each other while ill

thank you for the prompt! have another 1.2k of fluff, this time set during the summer between s7/s8 when bucktommy was new and anything we wanted it to be, lol. from the nonsexual acts of intimacy prompt list

---

On a really good, horny day, Buck might be strong enough to haul Tommy off his living room floor and drop him on the couch. That's not one of those days, though: Buck is sick, Tommy is sick, and they might be better off dying together in each other's arms on the floor of the loft.

"I should just go home."

"Tommy, you fainted when you tried to put on a sock."

They're lying side-by-side on the floor of the loft; Tommy did try to put on a sock and faint, but Buck caught him before he shattered his skull on the floor. Once he had saved Tommy's life, he felt vertigo kick in and slowly lowered himself to the floor, too, where he and Tommy could lie together for the last 10-15 minutes of their lives.

"I don't need socks to drive," Tommy answers.

Buck laughs quietly. "Don't make me laugh, everything hurts."

"It's too early for flu season, it's the fucking Fourth of July."

"Eighth."

"It's the fucking Eighth of July."

"You know, the Declaration of Independence was signed on July 4th, but on July 8th at 12 PM, it was read aloud in public for the first time."

"So… Happy Public Declaration of the Declaration of Independence Day?"

"It's a little wordy."

"Just a little."

"And it doesn't need to be flu season for my niece to get us sick." Buck turns his head and pouts. "I'm sorry you're sick. I'm sorry I'm sick, too, but I'm more sorry you're sick."

"Don't apologize. People get sick sometimes. This'll probably be the last time I'm sick, though, since I'm gonna die from this, whatever it is."

"No you're not." Suddenly Buck's eyes widen as he flails at Tommy. "Are you? You don't have like a compromised immune system or anything? Are you actually dying? Tommy, we're first responders, why haven't we called 9-1-1?"

Tommy's eyes close for a beat. "I'm not dying, I'm just a very melodramatic 39-year-old man who doesn't want to be sick in front of this guy he really likes."

"Oh," Buck says.

Tommy turns his head to look at Buck. "I'm sorry. I was saving that for my deathbed confession, but that could be now. You can't cringe at a guy's deathbed confession, Evan. It's the law."

Buck doesn't—he doesn't know how to—how he can talk to Tommy. He doesn't know how to keep up with him when he's so—he's funny and flirty and sexy and sometimes he seems so serious that everything in Buck's soul quakes in a way he doesn't understand because he's never felt it before. There's a hundred, a thousand things Buck wants to say to him: he wants to flirt back, he wants to be funny, he wants to say something that will get Tommy to smile in this way he has, when the grin breaks across his face like a sunrise Buck stayed up all night waiting to see. He's so—he's so much, and Buck wants so much.

Buck softly replies, "Okay, I won't."

Tommy's eyes soften, too, like Buck had done or said any of the things that might make Tommy fall in love with him. He hadn't, though. Maybe Tommy just likes him.

"Is it more embarrassing to DoorDash Gatorade and more cold medicine, or to text Eddie and make him our DoorDash guy?" Buck asks.

Tommy's eyes crinkle a little. "Do you think either of those entities have the capacity for shame?"

"No, it's me, I'm ashamed. Which is more embarrassing?"

"Well how about this." Tommy closes his eyes and sighs as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone like it's made out of lead. "You keep your shame and I will get a whole pharmacy delivered to your door, and no one will ever know that you have a cold, too."

"Now it just sounds silly. It's fine, I'll do it."

Tommy swings a hand to Buck and holds it out. Buck rolls his eyes and takes it, links their fingers together. "Let me treat you to some electrolytes and cold medicine before we spend our 48 off on this floor, choking on our own phlegm."

"Yeah, not even each other's," Buck says. "I bet your phlegm tastes great."

It slips out of Buck's mouth and makes Tommy stutter and laugh with his whole achy body. Buck's so embarrassed and so proud and so embarrassed, but how can he want to wither and die when Tommy's looking at him so—

The way Buck looks at him? This warm look like—like he can't look away from Buck, the way Buck can't look away from him.

"I can't believe you've been depriving the queer community of hits like that all these years," Tommy replies, still grinning at him. Buck squeezes his hand and hopes this lightheaded feeling is just—it's that he likes his boyfriend, not that worms are eating his brain or anything.

"Hey, uh." Tommy's hand has loosened around Buck's. Buck wants him back, but maybe he's letting go for a good reason. Or a bad one. Buck doesn't care, he wants it back. "So I'm gonna build this delivery order to end all orders, and then maybe…"

"Maybe…"

Tommy turns his head, but he looks less confident than he did 90 seconds ago. "I know we had really amazing plans for this 48 off, so many things we were going to do to each other's bodies that didn't involve cold compresses and acetaminophen. But now that's all been crushed… would it be so bad if we… like if we still, I don't know, spent them together?"

Buck stares at him, long enough that Tommy looks away and shakes his head. "Never mind, I was—"

"Tommy, you fainted trying to put on a sock," Buck interrupts. "You're not leaving here until I say you can."

"I mean, that sounds very hot and in charge of you, but this was supposed to be a fun little weekend. You didn't sign up for—"

"Yes I did," Buck says. "You're gonna stay here until we're strong enough to fuck each other's brains out again. Upstairs. On the bed." Buck links his fingers with Tommy's again and squeezes (clutches) his hand. "It might take a while. We might even need to take a sick day."

There's something around Tommy's eyes that Buck wants to rub away. Tommy, his fun Tommy, the one who's been funny enough to keep him on the floor for this long, is slowly coming back, but Buck wants—he wants. He wants to be the one to say or do the thing that gets Tommy to stop thinking dumb things like is he gonna kick me out of his house when I'm sick. Just like Tommy makes him laugh and think, Buck wants to be the one to—

He just really wants to be something, mean something, to him.

"If you mean it." Tommy lets out a long-suffering sigh. "If you'll have me, Evan Buckley, I would really like to take a sick day with you."

Buck nods with more confidence than he actually has. "Good. Cause you're gonna. Add some popsicles on there, too."

"Oh, good idea, you're very smart."

Tommy flashes him a grin that makes Buck an even weaker puddle on the floor. Good thing he doesn't have to get up yet so he can lie here, watching Tommy order them Gatorade and popsicles and cold medicine, and try not to fall in love with him.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Can I request Feixiao and Fugue/Tingyun, whose S/O is trying their best to help them during their heat, but is dumb of ass so they don't understand the underlying 'problem'?

(H:SR) Feixiao and Tingyun's S/O trying to help them during their heat

Mild NSF-W Under the Cut!

Feixiao appreciated that S/O was trying to help her during this...troubled season.

But what she didn't (REALLY LOVED) appreciate that S/O was constantly hugging her and getting within contact.

Their hand was rubbing her forehead gently, and it was driving her CRAZY.

(S/O) "Your forehead is burning, but I don't see anything wrong with you? The heavy breathing isn't really making much sense, I don't think we can get allergies here-"

(Feixiao) "S/O-"

(S/O) "Maybe it's just a foxian thing?"

Well, at least they weren't wrong about that-

(S/O) "Should I change you out of your shirt-?"

(Feixiao) "S/O!"

Her yell startled them, causing them to leap back just a little, but not before Feixiao grabbed their wrist and kept it on her head, moving it closer to her ears to rub.

(Feixiao) "Just...stay like this, will you?"

Feixiao struggled out a small chuckle, doing everything in her power to just not pounce on S/O right here, right now.

And when S/O's hand slid down to hold her cheek-

(S/O) "Heh, you're really cute when you're sick! I wish I knew what was causing it though..."

(Feixiao) "..."

The general had to summon ALL of her will to make sure S/O wouldn't be dead once she had a night with them, for now she'll accept the pampering with stride.

(Feixiao) "Heh, you're too good to me darling."

(S/O) "Anything for my general."

(Feixiao) "Beevenbettertome-"

(S/O) "Huh?"

(Feixiao) "N-Nothing!"

Tingyun is a proper Foxian Lady, and knows how to account for the season.

What she never had to account for before though, was having S/O around for it.

It was easy to ignore before since she didn't have a partner. But now?

(S/O) "You're breathing is super heavy! Are you sure you're okay, do you need me to get anything?"

Tingyun shuts her eyes and does her best to focus.

(Tingyun) "No, dear. I'll be okay, thank you."

Feeling them scoot closer to her and hold her hand tightly did not improve her chances.

(S/O) "Okay...Just call me if you need anything."

(Tingyun) Yes, I need to get right between your le-WOAH! C-Come on, Tingyun! Get your head back in the right place...Heh..N-NO!

(S/O) "Tingyun...?"

(Tingyun) "A-Ah, got it. I'll be sure."

And to reassure them, Tingyun gives them a kiss on the lips.

And one more for good measure.

And another.

And another-

(Tingyun) OH NO.

BONUS:

Fugue may not remember exactly what happened each season prior, but upon seeing S/O she knew one thing was certain.

That they'd help her heat, not in the way she was probably imagining.

...And yet, that didn't sound like the worst thing right now.

It's just another memory to find again, right?

(Fugue) "Tell me, S/O. How good was I before at trying to contain myself?"

S/O blushed but answered quickly, despite the coughing fit they had to recover from the question being asked.

(S/O) "Honestly? Really good, just uh...Apparently everytime I got close it ended up...N-Not helping as much as I thought."

Fugue smiled at that, moving closer despite their fidgeting.

(Fugue) "I admit the feeling is not as strong ever since I returned, my heart still beats quicker sitting next to you."

(S/O) "Hah, I'm glad that hasn't changed."

Fugue and S/O lovingly sit closer to one another, arms cuddling each other as they sat in silence, her tail brushing against S/O.

[sakrafka]

I love your art so much, it inspires me to draw in my own style that isn't influenced by other popular styles typically liked. I love how you use vibrant colors, and the silhouettes of the critters you make are so fun. I also only got Tumblr so I could view all the art you post. 🤭❤️ But, I just wanted to ask how you developed your art style, if you had any influences growing up, and generally how it came to be. THANK YOU‼️‼️

Thank you so much for the kind message :DD I really appreciate you!! Multiple people have asked me this before so I'll try giving a more detailed answer!

I have been drawing ever since I could hold a pencil, I'm autistic and drawing has always been my "safe-space" and the only thing that really relaxes me! I think my main inspirations that affected my style the most were the Dragonology books, I had them when I was little and I was obsessed. I kept tracing over all the art and mimicking the style (around 8-10 years old). Petson and Findus is another one! I first started sharing my art and seeing online artist at the age of 17; I made a Deviantart and I really loved Z-doodler and Picolo-kun (I think those were their names?). I'm also obsessed with Károly Reich, I grew up on books illustrated by him! These things specifically don't really inspire my art anymore, but the basic foundation of it was, I think, built on these styles!

Then, for some reason I got obsessed with trying to develop an art style that is unique to only me, as much as that's possible. I regularly sat down, and tried to create new stylistic choices by forcefully thinking of new ways of drawing. I tried to forget everything I know, and come up with new ways to convey something.

I also have an "inspiration folder", with random pieces of art. I sometimes took 4-5 pieces that were my favorite, and tried to adapt little stylistic choices from their art to mine, and combine them. I did this very sparingly, because I don't want my art to look like anyone else's (again, as much as that's possible, since styles overlap and stuff)!

I developed certain characteristics in my art style that I have never seen before, for example the way I shade with these little triangle shapes. This is something that I "came up with" and didn't see anywhere before. They only started appearing a few weeks after I started sharing my art with this shading, and all the people who did it were followers of mine haha (it is completely possible that someone else did this before me as well, though - I'm only saying that this is something that, as far as I know, I came up with!). I'm attaching a screenshot of the shading I'm talking about:

So yeah, I would really love to try and make up new things that are unique to me (again, as much as that is possible), and I don't have any specific inspirations as of right now; the most inspiring things to me are totally random things, like a nice leaf, a song, or anything really! I have that type of imagination, I don't know the name, where I can rotate the apple in full HD 4K and even smell it lmao. So it often happens that random pictures just pop up in my head, completely unprompted, and I often draw these.

Also, I know my current art style is not very unique; this is because in recent years I focused on making my art style a bit more "digestable". I started selling my art, and I became a bit forced to make things that *most* people like. So, it is very hard to balance my will to make an art style that is super unique to me, while also drawing in a way that is nice for most people and easily consumable. But if you srcoll back to the beginning of my blog, you can see more unique pieces where I really tried to experiment!

Here are some artists that I like, aside from the ones I mentioned! (all instagram handles)

esztter_t

sournoodl

artkaisucks

lillaboleczillustration

foliveli

salamispots

clarelewlew

tudi.juli

gyunyuya

clara_winnie_

apple_toast And many more probably!

[blackcoldcrackedheart]

"And then I text Bobby, make sure he's okay"

"Tommy, right?" Tommy turns to see a young woman, maybe early twenties. He had seen and met her briefly before.

"I don't know if you remember me from the medal ceremony? I'm Athena's daughter."

Tommy vaguely remembers, "Yeah, I-" her name is a month but he's blanking on which month. "I'm sorry, it's May or -"

She smiles, it awkward and tight, but it's there as she goes to shake his hand. "It's May." She licks her lips and looks towards the direction of where Evan, Howie, Hen, and Eddie are standing at- they're in small group, their head bowed as they talk amongst themselves.

Tommy tries to give them space.

Bobby's wake is heavy and a lot all at once. Tommy tries hard to not cry and while he's giving Evan his space, he doesn't want to go too far.

"I'm sorry. About Bobby, I can already imagine how great of a step-father he was."

May nods, wiping away a few tears, "He was a great dad, I'm gonna miss him." She sighed, she looks over again. "I know it's none of my business, but are you and Buck together again?"

Tommy flinched, he looks down at his cup of water, unsure what they are or even if he could answer the question. "I rather not misinform you." He hopes it sounds diplomatic enough if it gets back to Evan that May asked him about their relationship status.

She sniffs, huffing out a soft laugh. "It's just-" she looks at Evan again, her brows furrowong with worry. "I know that Bobby saw Buck as his kid, and I know Buck saw Bobby as his dad."

Tommy knew that.

He knew what it was like to lose a parent.

He lost his mom.

He had seen people react to losing their parents during calls.

He saw Evan lose Bobby that night.

He watched the man he loved more than anyone breakdown in grief as he lost his father.

"I don't know if Buck has talked to you or the others about losing Bobby, I tried but he basically said it wasn't about him."

That has Tommy frowning now too.

He doesn't want to disclose what Evan has told him, he doesn't want to break Evan's trust and tell May that he's had to hold Evan as the other man sobbed till he fell asleep twice now.

"We've talked. He knows I'll be here for him as long as he needs." Tommy tells her softly.

"Good." May nods, "I-I know that Buck and I aren't close, but I-I just want to make sure he's okay."

Tommy hums in agreement, he notices that she hasn't stopped fidgeting since she approached him. "How are you holding up?" He asks her.

He sees May's eyes fill with tears and he quickly gives her a napkin from the table besides them that had a small serving of food and water.

"Thank you." Her voice sounds so wobbly and young that Tommy feels himself start to tear up. "I'll be okay," she sighs, "I'm just really worried about my mom. She isn't talking about what happened but I know her. I know she's angry about losing Bobby."

Tommy believes her, he had heard the others admit the same thing. Especially Howie, who was riddled with guilt about losing Bobby.

"She's probably not going to be in a mood to talk about what happened for a while, the best we can do right now is just be there for her and the others." Tommy tells her, he knows it's generic advice but it's the only thing that makes sense to him. He can't fix what happened, he can't make it all better.

He can't bring back Bobby.

As much as he wishes he could.

"I know." May tells him dishearteningly, blowing her nose on the napkin. "It's not fair." She admits in a small voice as she looks at her mom, Athena is consoling an older woman who Tommy thinks is Bobby's mom.

"None of this is fair." He agrees quietly.

-

There's pain radiating from his neck to his shoulders and he's pretty sure the cool damp spot he's feeling on his chest is from Evan drooling on him.

The living room is still pretty dark, but Tommy could see strays of light from the sun rising coming through the front window.

He squints at the timer on the DVD player.

It's just 6:38 am.

So they managed to sleep for at least 2 hours more.

Progress.

Evan had woken up from a nightmare. The same nightmare of losing Bobby and waking up in a panic.

This was the third time now and Tommy had used Evan’s phone of sending a text message to his therapist about booking an emergency session (with Evan's permission).

They had moved from their bedroom to the backyard to get some fresh air and drink some herbal tea to the living room.

He knew Evan slept better when they were cuddled together so he tried not to move despite the pain in his neck and shoulders.

He thought Evan was still asleep, but he heard the other man groan, his voice rough with sleep and pain as he asks Tommy, "What time issit?"

Tommy cards his fingers through Evan's sweaty curls, "Quarter to 7, almost." He presses his lips to Evan's hairline, believing the other man will just go back to sleep.

Instead Evan reaches over to the side table, the friction between them as Tommy gritting his teeth as Evan reaches over his head to grab his phone.

Tommy doesn't say anything but he can see Evan opening up his text messages and messaging Bobby.

'Hey, are you okay?'

Tommy doesn't say anything but he can see the message from the day before.

It's not a different number, Tommy knows that it's Bobby's number that responded back yesterday.

'Hey, are you okay?'

'I'm okay, Buck.'

He's not sure what to say or even ask as Evan lays his head down back on Tommy’s chest. The hand clutching the phone is splayed to the side and hanging off the couch.

Tommy knew about Evan messaging Bobby, it was something Evan started after coming out of a coma. It was something he did because, as Evan explained it, in the coma dream he couldn't save Bobby, so he needed to know that in reality Bobby was okay.

It was the first thing he did every morning since.

Now...

Evan's phone buzzed, and Tommy could only frown as Evan blearily looks as the screen.

'I'm okay, Buck.'

Evan makes huffs out in relief and let's his arm hand down again. There's a soft thud sound that Tommy knows is Evan dropping the phone.

"Athena's okay." He tells Tommy sleepily, there's an edge to his voice that Tommy knows is about nightmare.

Tommy clutches him and despite Evan's eyes are closed, he can see the tears clutching and falling from Evan's lashes and down his nose and cheeks.

-

"Hey."

"Hey."

Tommy passes a glass of lemonade to May as he sits next to her.

She looks at the glass and then at him, "Lemonade? Really? Tommy, I'm over 21."

Tommy purses his lips and tries not to smile as he take a sip of his own glass of lemonade. "I'm not giving the Sergent's kid alcohol. Even if the kid is an adult who has a degree from USC now."

May laughs, looking around the room at her graduation party. She had told her mom it wasn't necessary for them to celebrate her graduation.

But May figured the party was what was needed after coping with losing Bobby 8 months ago.

"How is he now?" May asks, nodding in the direction of Buck. He was standing with Athena and Michael and David, his face bright as whatever he was saying got the trio laugh. Athena was clutching his arm, her head tilted back as Buck waved his hands excitedly around.

"Better." Tommy answers honestly. Evan was doing better, he still had rough days- days in where he would shut down and made Tommy worry.

But those days were getting farther in between now.

"How's Athena?"

May turns to him, smiling. "Better."

They look at Buck and Athena again, the two laughing together as David starts talking this time.

-

"Wasn't expecting to see you here, Buckley." Athena knows she sounds cold, but she can't help it. She's annoyed that Buck is here.

Buck isn't religious as far as she knew.

She had went to Bobby's church to feel something.

Anything besides anger and hurt.

Bobby's funeral was only a day ago.

She was going back to work tomorrow.

She needed to get her head back into the game by tonight.

She thought attending mass would make her feel better. She wasn't expecting to see a familiar head of curls sitting three pews in front of her.

"Wasn't expecting to be here." Buck admits, his voice is rough and Athena can hear the cracks in it. She looks at his face, his skin is blotchy and she sees how blood shot and teary eyed he looks.

She wasn't close to Buck.

But she knew how much Bobby loved him.

She knew how much Buck loved Bobby too.

She feels her lower lip wobble as she sits next to him.

"Is it helping?" She asks him, looking straight ahead because she knows she's close to breaking.

She doesn't want to break again.

"No." Buck admits tearfully, he sounds fed up. Athena still isn't looking at him but she hears him sniff. "I-I don't know, Bobby always relied on God to get through the bad days, I thought maybe if I came here-"

"That God could help you too?"

"Uh, no? I-I thought it could help me feel close to Bobby. I-whenever I had a bad day I would go to him."

Athena feels her eyes burn with tears again.

"Why are you here?" Buck asks her after awhile.

She feels herself become fidgety, her knee won't stop bouncing as she looks ahead still. "I figured coming here would bring me some peace for tomorrow." She answers half honestly.

She hears Buck scoff, "is it working?"

Athena feels herself tapping her nails against the pew, she feels tears start to fall. "No." She whispers as she realizes that despite her best efforts she breaking down again.

She feels Buck's arms go around her and she breaks more, clutching Buck's shirt as they both cry.

"I don't- I don't know how to move on from this, Buck."

"Me neither." He tells her once they pull apart, the crying was cathartic. Buck holds her hand tightly, needing something to ground him.

He looks nervous as he asks, "Uh, there's this thing. That I do with Bobby- did, I guess." He frowns as he corrects himself. He wipes away more tears as he tries to speak but his voice his horse. "I-I would message him, every-every morning and ask if he's okay."

Athena chuckles softly, she knew about Buck's early morning texts. How much Bobby adored it, it made him smile every morning.

"I know." She tells him, waiting for his point.

"I-I was wondering, maybe I -I could text message you now? I-I don't know when you're planning on sto-"

"Not yet."

Athena knows it silly to keep paying for Bobby's phone line but she can't do it yet.

"Sooo, maybe I can text message Bobby and you- you could answer?"

Athena looks at him.

Buck hangs his head down, his laugh sounds so self-deprecating to her own ears.

"Yeah, I know stupid-"

She squeezes his hand, "I think it sounds like a great idea, Buck."

She knows that Buck has the 118, Maddie, and Tommy.

She has her kids and Michael has been there for her, so has Anne and Charlie.

But Buck was special to Bobby.

He was his kid.

And Athena didn't want to lose that part of Bobby.

Buck knew he wasn't Bobby's family, not officially. But he wanted to be. He wanted to make sure that the people Bobby loved where okay, but he also wanted to be apart of their lives. He wanted to have something to still tie him to Bobby.

Athena allowing him to be there meant the world to him. It meant he was really a part of Bobby's family.

"You going to be okay?"

"Getting there, you?

"Getting there too."

[creatingblackcharacters]

a while back I sent an ill-worded question about words used to describe skin complexion, so first of all I want to apologise for how my question came across for you, the anger it caused and how careless my phrasing was in that regard. it wasn't meant that way, but of course that doesn't negate the damage done.

I've been debating what to say and how to say it, or whether I should just silently take the L on this miscommunication and leave it, because ultimately that's what it was. I never meant "how does that read to you?" as in "do you understand the words I'm saying?", frankly it didn't even cross my mind that questioning your understanding could be a genuine meaning of my words. that's just not how it makes sense to me.

I meant "how does that read to you?" as in "how does the very use of those words rooted in whiteness come across to Black readers when applied to Black characters by white writers?" (could I have been this clear? sure, if it had occurred to me that my question without explaining my full entire thought process could be terribly misconstrued, but it obviously did not occur to me, so here we are. all I can do is try to do better and I am trying).

though I have to say, in its own way the reply you gave me sheds light on that question. the descriptors all carry an implication, regardless of whether we have begrudging understanding that we all know what they are supposed to convey because we've learned the words and their meanings and we can use our brains to decipher context. though it brings me back to my question - how does the use of descriptors like paling/blanching/deathly pallor/etc. come across for Black readers? does it show the intent and care this blog is advocating for? is that something that takes people out of the story, especially when they know the author is white? and in that sense, are physiological descriptions preferred then?

ideally writers would make the effort to actually figure out how to describe Black complexion, it seems like the natural conclusion here, but for me it also begs the question what the equivalent to "to pale" for dark skin is, and I suspect the answer is there is none. (or maybe I just haven't encountered it?)

ultimately, I want to use my words in a good way, in a way that makes my Black readers feel seen, but language is hard and I don't always get it right. (as we have seen). and I'm thinking a step towards writing better descriptions is actually knowing what Black readers take away from them, and the impressions they leave behind. sure, there are probably some potentially obvious answers to this, but I think there is merit in making sure that we're all on the same page with things like this. after all we can't look into each other's heads.

I hope I was able to word my thoughts better this time around.

If this is about the ask that I think it is, I appreciate your apology. I wasn't actually mad at you, and i apologize if my response seemed to be at you directly. I was moreso upset at the ease of the use of your language and the concept itself. It's incredibly dehumanizing to realize just how many people don't seem to think that Black people function as human beings, or that we are somehow so innately different from white bodies that extrapolations cannot be made, or that it's not even something that y'all have to consider at all. Like, the idea that Black people change skin colors as if we're chameleons in pain or sickness is far too common and comfortable an idea with the implication that is "I dont think you are human like me". It makes me sad.

I'll let others answer your question, this time, though, so you can get that feedback!

[buckybarnes-lover]

Roommies (Chapter 2)

Roomates Bucky Barnes x fem!reader au

Words: 1,683

Warnings: Slight NSFW, no smut but pretty handsy make-out sesh

A/N: This is the first time I've written any sort of NSFW so sorry if it's not that good, but thank you so much for reading! This is also the last part, I don't think I'm going to write another one but pls enjoy!

( You can read part 1 here )

*****

You, Nat and Wanda arrive at the club, ready to party the night away and forget everything that just happened in the last hour. You go up to the bar, order the first round of drinks and bring them to the table where Nat and Wanda are already sitting.

You've barely finished your drinks by the time you're all up and dancing along to the heavy beat of the music. For a while, you forget about Bucky and just focus of moving with the music and having a great time with your friends. You can feel the care-free energy radiating from everyone and it feels so good, not having to worry about school work or a hot roommate that also happens to be your best friend, it's nice to just let go and be in the moment.

After a while, you notice your feet starting to get sore. You tell Wanda you're going to get another drink and go over to the bar. Sitting on the bar stool you glance around the club while you wait for the bartender to notice you, you're looking at Nat and Wanda dancing their heart away when you hear a voice from behind you.

"Can I buy you a drink?" You turn around to see a guy roughly your age leaning on the bar table. You consider his question, he's pretty fit, not as fit as Bucky but maybe enough for you to forget about Bucky, plus he seems nice.

"Um, Sure, I'll have a vodka-coke, thanks." You give him your most charming smile and watch as he tells the bartender your order. A moment later you've both got your drinks in front of you.

"So, does the pretty lady have a name?" He asks turning all his attention on you. You consider telling him your real name but as nice as he seems you never know, he might be a total stalker, also you're probably never going to see him again anyway so you tell him a fake name.

"And you?" You ask him back taking a sip of your vodka-coke hoping the alcohol will kick in soon.

"Oliver." He answers with an attempt at a flirty grin "But you call me Ollie."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Ollie, thank you for the drink." He's kinda boring but at least he's not being creepy, small blessings. You sit and chat for a bit more before the alcohol fully kicks in and you feel like dancing again.

"Let's dance?" You stand and reach a hand out towards him, hopefully he's a good dancer but you're so tipsy you probably won't even notice.

"Sure." He takes your hand and lets you lead him to the dance floor.

                                                         *****

Its 2am by the time you, Nat and Wanda decide its time to go home, all tipsy and giggly you stumble the 10 minute journey to your flat, dropping Nat and Wanda off on the way. You'd considered going home with Ollie when you were at the club but, honestly you didn't feel like hooking up with anyone that wasn't Bucky, so much for forgetting about him. You step into your flat and lean against the door, with alcohol still in your system you feel too energetic to go to bed so you opt to stumble into the kitchen for anything that might interest you instead.

After a while of rummaging and finding nothing interesting you give up, but you're still not tired enough to go to bed, maybe a warm shower will help relax you. Yeah, that sounds good, so with your mind made up you make your way to the bathroom, occasionally bumping into bits of furniture.

When you reach the bathroom the light is already on but you don't think much about it, you just focus on removing your heels and slipping out of your dress. You push aside the shower curtain and hop into the steamy shower, immediately relaxing as the warm water hits your skin. For a moment, you relish in the feeling of warmth and calm that the water brings until you realize that you never turned the shower on. Wait, if you didn't turn it on, who did?

"Ahem."

You practically jump out of your skin as a masculine voice fake coughs to get your attention. It takes a second for your eyes to focus again and as soon as they do, they land on right on Bucky. A very naked and wet Bucky. Oh, he looks delicious like that, the water dripping down from his chest to the contours of his abs and further south until -

Oh, wow, he's fucking hu-

Bucky clears his throat and looks at you expectantly.

"What?"

"I said, what are you doing?" He repeats with a confused but also, slightly amused expression. If he noticed you staring, he's not bringing it up, which is great because it saves you some embarrassment from this entirely humiliating situation. 

"I, um..." You head is still reeling with confusion and arousal you can't even form a coherent answer to his very logical question. You wobble a bit as you half shrug your shoulders to try and convey that you're just as baffled as he is about the whole thing.

He raises his brow slightly, giving you an amused look.

"Are you drunk?" He asks with a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Like, not much." Your words have a slight slur at the end giving you away.

"Oh you're drunk doll." He crosses his arms. Annoyed, you huff and try to do the same but with more sass, which was a poor choice on your part because the motion makes you wobble and you end up slipping forwards right into Bucky's arms.

His biceps feel solid under your grip, you know he works out a lot, but damn, this man's built like a brick house. You look up to find him staring down at you, his cocky expression from earlier gone, replaced by something more sincere - loving even.

It hits you once again that you're standing mere inches from each other, soaking wet and naked as the day you were born. Well, this is not how you thought your evening would go.

Your mind can't help but drift to thoughts you definitely shouldn't be having about your best friend and, maybe it's the alcohol in you making you imagine things, but he looks like he's having some pretty similar thoughts. 

The longer you two stand there, both transfixed in each others gazes, the more you feel the need to lean forward kiss him. At that thought alone, your heart rate speeds up and your tummy does flips, it's risky and you might be misinterpreting this whole situation but you can't stop yourself.

In a moment of pure courage, you push yourself forward and crash your lips into his. It feels amazing, better than any late-night daydream you could've come up with and after a second of hesitation, Bucky kisses you back, passionately and full of raw energy. His tongue brushes past your bottom lip and into your mouth, making you whimper and slide your arms up and around his shoulders to bringing him closer.

His hands find your hips and gently push you against the shower wall. The coldness of the water vapor makes you arch your back, lightly grazing your breasts against his chest. Bucky groans as he feels your hard nipples brush against him and reaches his hand up to cup your tit, using his thumb to rub your sensitive peak. The contact makes you moan, which is immediately swallowed by Bucky's passionate mouth.

You feel like you're on could nine, Bucky is everything you imagined and more, you wish you could stay in the moment forever.

But Bucky's movements suddenly stop and his breathing is heavy and rapid as he rests his head on your shoulder.

Still breathless from your intense make-out, "Bucky?"  You question, you're confused as to why he stopped, you were having a great time, right?

"Sorry doll," He lifts his head up to look at you, his pupils dilated and his lips swollen. "Its just that, I really like you, I have for a while now but, I don't want to do this when you're not fully sober."

You're slightly disappointed that you won't be getting laid like you hoped but that was quickly overlooked when you registered his other words.

'I really like you.'  

"You like me? Like, really?" You ask, feeling every cell in your body start to bubble with joy.

Bucky likes you.

"Ever since we moved in together." His eyes are filled with such genuineness and love, you feel like you're floating.

He reallylikes you.

Your heart feels as though it's about to combust, you'd figured he must of liked you at least a little bit to be making out with you and not shoving you out of the shower the second you stepped in, but hearing him actually say the words made you feel ecstatic.

Not even in your most unhinged daydreams did you ever think he would confess liking you ever since you moved in together, especially not in a shower of all places. This is definitely your favorite night ever.

You want to pull him in for another kiss, a tender loving kiss this time but you realize you haven't told him you feel the same. 

"Me too." You blurt out. "I mean I like you too, is what I'm saying."

He looks at you like you've told him he's won the lottery.

"Yeah? So does that mean I can take you on a date?" His plump and well-kissed lips form into a smirk.

"Maybe once we get out this shower." You smirk back, your belly doing back-flips at the prospect of going on a date with Bucky.

You both burst into huge smiles as you turn off the shower and dry yourselves off. Once you're fully dried and in your sleeping clothes, you crawl into Bucky's bed and cuddle up to each other.

You don't think you've ever fallen asleep feeling so content and happy.

****

Tag list:

@doilooklikeagiveafrack, @unaxv, @avengersfan25

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Work Too Hard, Can You Fuckin' Pay Me?

Part 15 - Y/N moved to escape some of their looming troubles from Westview, to the place that their best friend said would make a difference. New job, new digs, will Y/N make a change for the better, or leave another city with their tail between their legs?

TW: Just angst. Layin it on thicccck

Word Count: 2.2K

Read Pt. 1 HERE Read Pt. 2 HERE Read Pt. 3 HERE Read Pt. 4 HERE Read Pt. 5 HERE Read Pt. 6 HERE Read Pt. 7 HERE Read Pt. 8 HERE Read Pt. 9 HERE Read Pt. 10 HERE - Read Pt. 11 HERE - Read Pt. 12 HERE - Read Pt. 13 HERE- Read Pt. 14 HERE

You Might As Well Be Six Feet In Dirt

It was about a week before Val reared her head again. You had been working hard to win back Wanda's trust, helping her around the house, cooking dinner, and slowly incorporating date nights further out of town to avoid any potential run-ins. Wanda had started to come around, her laughter filling the house again, and her eyes no longer filled with doubt. But you had the gut feeling that the calm was only temporary.

And then the call came. It was a Tuesday evening, and you were both sitting in your living room, Wanda engrossed in a book, her lips stained from her glass of cabernet left over from dinner. While you were scrolling through potential projects on your work laptop, your thoughts wandered to the weekend plans you had made. The phone vibrated on the coffee table, and Wanda looked at you expectantly as you picked it up. The name on the screen made your heart sink.

Wanda watched as your demeanor changed, and quickly bookmarked her spot, setting the hardback on the table next to your recliner before leaning forward towards you. "Who is it?" she asked, her voice tentative. You didn't answer, your thumb hovering over the 'ignore' button, not wanting to burst the bubble you had worked so hard to create.

"It's Val," you said finally, your voice tight with tension. Wanda's eyes narrowed, her posture stiffening. "What does she want?"

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice calm. "I'm not sure if I want to know." You looked over at her, hoping she could read the silent plea in your eyes. "I should probably take this."

Wanda nodded, her jaw tight, and you settled the phone between Wanda and yourself. Sliding your finger to hit 'answer' with a trembling hand. "What do you want, Val?" you snarled into the phone.

Her voice was sweet and sickening, like honey over rotten fruit. "I just wanted to see how my favorite person was doing," she said, her tone mocking.

You clenched your fist. "What do you want, Val?"

"Oh, I just wanted to remind you of our little agreement," she sang into the phone, her voice echoing with malice.

Your stomach dropped. The agreement was a part of your past that you had hoped to keep buried, but Val had always had a knack for digging up your darkest secrets. "What are you talking about?"

Wanda's eyes bore into you, her grip on the blanket tightening.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Val purred. "You owe me, Y/N, and I've come to collect."

You felt the walls closing in, the warmth of the room suddenly stifling. "Val, I can't—"

"You can and you will," she interrupted. "You know the rules of the game."

You looked over at Wanda, her gaze unwavering, filled with a mix of fear and curiosity. You knew you had to get off this call. "We're not playing that game anymore," you said firmly.

Wanda's eyes widened at your words, and she sat up straight, her grip on the blanket turning white-knuckled.

"Oh, but we are," Val said, a chuckle escaping her lips. "If you don't hold up your end, I'll make sure everyone knows the truth about what you really did in Westview. And let's not forget about the little...incident with the police."

The room grew colder, the warmth of the fireplace suddenly forgotten. Wanda's eyes searched yours, desperation etched into her features.

"I'll think about it," you managed to say, trying to buy yourself some time.

"You do that," Val said before hanging up.

The silence was deafening as you set the phone down on the coffee table. Wanda looked at you, her eyes filled with unspoken questions. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm in your chest.

"What game?" she whispered, her voice shaking slightly.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "It's complicated," you began, hoping she would understand without you having to say too much.

"Complicated?" Wanda's voice grew louder, the hurt and anger returning. "Is this about me? Or did you make a deal with her to stay away from Piet?"

You shook your head, "It's not like that. It's about protecting you and Pietro."

Wanda's eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

"It's nothing you need to worry about," you said, trying to reassure her.

"Apparently it is," Wanda retorted, the hurt in her voice palpable. "What kind of deal did you make with her?"

You took a moment to collect your thoughts, the weight of your past threatening to crush you. "It's complicated," you repeated, trying to find the right words. "But I need to handle this first, for you, and Piet."

Wanda pulled away, her eyes searching yours for any sign of deceit. "I want to trust you, Y/N, but you're not making this easy. Like at all."

You nodded, understanding her frustration. "I know. And I'm sorry." You took her hand in yours, feeling the warmth of her skin against your cold palms. "But I have to do this. Unfortunately, past me didn't have much foresight."

The following weekend, you found yourself back in Westview, standing outside the dilapidated bar where you had spent too many nights with Val. The neon sign flickered ominously, casting a garish light on the puddles of rainwater on the pavement. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.

Inside, the air was thick with cigarette smoke and the smell of cheap liquor. The same faces that had watched you and Val's tumultuous relationship unfold were now watching you with a mix of curiosity and contempt. Val was at the bar, looking up at you with a smirk that made your blood boil.

"You're late," she said, sipping on a neon-blue cocktail that matched her mood perfectly.

"I had things to do," you replied, keeping your voice low and even.

"Oh, I bet you did," she sneered, sliding off the barstool. "But I'm not here to talk about your new life in Foxwood."

You clenched your fists, trying to keep your cool. "What do you want?"

Val sauntered closer, her eyes gleaming. "I want what you promised me," she purred, her voice like a knife sliding against your nerves. "I want my cut of the action."

You knew what she was referring to—the deal you had made with her to keep your past in the shadows. A deal that had kept you in her clutches for so long. "That's over," you said firmly. "I'm not playing your games anymore."

"Is that so?" Val's smile grew wider, revealing a set of teeth that could cut glass. "What if I told you that I've been keeping tabs on your little neighbor?"

Your heart stopped. "What have you done?"

"Let's just say that if you don't start playing ball, sweet Wanda might get a little surprise from her past," she sang, her eyes gleaming with malice.

The blood drained from your face. You had to protect Wanda at all costs. "What do you want?"

"A favor," Val said simply, her eyes never leaving yours. "One little favor, and I'll leave you and your precious Wanda alone."

The thought of Wanda getting hurt made you sick to your stomach, but you couldn't let Val win. You had to find a way to outsmart her without compromising your new life. "Fine," you gritted out. "What's the favor?"

Her grin was victory incarnate. "I'll tell you tomorrow," she said, turning to leave. "And don't be late, this time."

The drive back to your hotel was a blur of anger and fear. You couldn't believe you had allowed Val to hold this power over you again. But as you pulled into the parking lot, you imagined pulling into the driveway in front of Wanda's house. She would be waiting for you to come home, curled into the corner of her patio swing with a cup of hot tea and a book, her luminous smile greeting you as you walked up to her.

You wanted that. Needed that. You could not let Val take that away. Nor could you let her harm or affect Wanda in any way. The thought of Wanda in pain was more than you could bear.

The next day was a blur of nausea and dread. You met Val at the same time in the same bar, feeling like a pawn in her twisted game of chess. She sat there, legs crossed, sipping a drink with a little umbrella in it, looking every bit the villainess she was. "Ready to play?" she smirked as you slid into the booth across from her.

You nodded tersely, your jaw clenched so tight it hurt. "Lets get this bullshit fucking over with." You growled, sitting yourself across from the foul woman. She tisked at your statement, shaking her head.

"Now, now, Y/N, is that any way to speak to your old flame?" she smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement.

"I think you need to emphasize the 'old' part a little bit more, Val," you leaned in, steeling your gaze towards the woman. "But then again, you've never acted your age."

Val's condescending smile never faltered, "Alright, cut the shit, Y/N," she said, setting the drink down with a clack. "I need you to do a little job for me. Nothing too difficult, I promise."

"Well, you were known for being easy," you muttered, trying to keep the contempt out of your voice. "What job?"

Val leaned back, a smug expression on her face. "Just a little errand. I need you to pick something up for me. It's a...package, let's say. It's at an old warehouse on the outskirts of town. You remember the one?"

"You're going to need to be a little bit more specific, Val. There's a whole ass district of them on the outskirts of town. Or has your Alzheimer's begun to set in at your age?"

Val rolled her eyes at your sarcasm, but the twitch of her lips suggested she was slightly amused. "Very funny," she said, sliding a crumpled piece of paper across the table. "Here's the address. You'll know what to do when you get there. Do not, whatever you do, try and get cute. There will be hell to pay if you do."

You took the paper, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. "What's in this package?"

"What did I just say, Y/N? Don't get cute." Val's voice was like a whip crack in the tense silence of the bar. She took a long drag from her cigarette, the smoke curling around her fingers like a serpent waiting to strike. "You just pick it up and bring it to me. That's all. What's in the package is none of your concern."

You clenched your fists, trying to hold onto your anger. "Alright," you forced out. "But if it has anything to do with hurting Wanda or Piet—"

"It doesn't," Val cut you off. "It's just business. But if you want to keep playing house with Wanda, you'll do exactly as I say."

You took a deep breath, feeling the paper in your pocket like a ticking time bomb. "Fine. I'll get the package."

Val's smile widened as she stood, walking around to where her perfume invaded your senses. She patted your cheek before leaning over and grazing her lips against your ear. "Good girl," she said, patting your hand. "You always did know how to make a woman happy."

You resisted the urge to throw your drink in her face, instead nodding and watching as she left the bar with a sway of her hips that had once made you weak. But not anymore. Now, it just made you sick. Your phone vibrated in your pocket, and you pulled it out to see a text from Wanda.

This is when you were glad you told Wanda your plan and that you were coming out here to deal with Val. It was a risky play, but you trusted her. And if you had lied to her about coming here, you could only imagine the guilt you would feel and the hurt it would cause her.

"How did your meeting with the she-devil go?"

"About as good as I expected, to be honest, Wands."

Those familiar three dots popped up, then disappeared, and showed up again.

"Please, be careful. I don't trust this situation. I have a bad feeling about this."

Your stomach sank at the thought of her sitting alone in the house, wondering what you were up to.

"I'll be careful," you texted back, trying to keep the anxiety out of your voice. "It's just a package, I'll grab it and be back before you know it."

Wanda's response was quick. "I would say to not do anything stupid, but you already are."

You couldn't argue with her, so you sent back a thumbs-up emoji, with "I'll be back soon, I promise." The dots appeared again, before disappearing.

With a deep sigh, you left the bar, the cold Westview air a stark contrast to the stuffy warmth you had just left. The drive to the warehouse was tense, the GPS in your phone the only noise in your car. Rain pattered against the windshield, the rhythmic sound adding to the anxiety building in your chest.

[ohcorny]

Hello! I have finished reading Hunger's Bite and I really liked it!

The use of mood color and lighting really stands out as a strong storytelling device, it communicates so much without having to neither do exposition nor show the details of the goings on, you can just *get the vibe* of how things are shifting.

I really appreciated this sense of "creeping escalation" in the horror as in, on day 1 you notice a few odd things but you chalk it up as non-important, on day 2 you become aware that there's a significant problem, and on day 3 you understand the nature of the problem but at this point it's already too late and it has already taken over your world — it reminded me [not in term of actual premise or story beats, but in terms of pacing and narrative construction] of the 1978 movie Invasion of the Body Snatchers, where there's this sense of creeping paranoia that something wrong is happening not *to you* but in the background, in the corner of your eye, but it's progressing far too fast for you to be able to react properly in time.

I felt perhaps it was over a tad too fast, but this has to be put into the context of me mainly reading long form manga and webcomics so it's probably just a me thing. I'll definitely buy the second book when it comes out.

Oh and page 224 made me go "oh you sneaky bastard (affectionate)!"

I want to ask you about your inspirations! There are several bits that made me go "huh wonder if this is inspired by X/a reference to X" but I know that many artists don't like it if you straight up ask them "is this based on X", so instead I'm asking you if you can freely expend on the conscious inspiration that went into Hunger's Bite — or even the things you realized in retrospect might have inspired you subconsciously.

hmmmm! it's been so long since the first seeds of the book that there's probably a lot of things that inspired the story. i think probably The Biggest was the call of cthulhu tabletop i played in for like five years. that was set in 1923 and was all about encountering horrors and solving mysteries and supporting the exploited. it was very dear to me and ended due to covid around the time i was starting to develop the book. so hunger's bite is probably, in part, me trying to carry it on myself.

aesthetically it was also a bit inspired by Miss Don't Touch Me by hubert and kerascoet. absolute bummer of a french adult comic but i really like the color work and way things are drawn in it. and it's set around the same time period so! in the inspiration folder it goes.

i think those are the main things? or at least the specific things i can remember. hunger's bite changed so many times from its earliest conception. i do remember wick's character being my answer to the question "what if the Cool Older Boy who's in every YA was actually a wet cat (and also gay)"

anyway thank you for reading!!! i'm glad you enjoyed

[kia-shifts]

What’s your MHA dr like if you’re comfortable sharing? <3

Of course, thank you for the question, I'm glad you asked ♡︎

As I stated in my introduction, I shifted to multiple au's of the canon version, so they were different dr's each time. I haven't shifted yet to a dr where I was in UA, but I still had so much fun!

I'll divide the descriptions in two categories to make it more organized and easy to read.

✮⋆˙ 𝑇𝑦𝑝𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑟'𝑠

Premise: everytime I shifted to a mha dr, it was set in my house or an outside place similar to my hometown. I want to say that the location choice was completely unintentional, but I came to the conclusion that I must've shifted in places that are familiar to me because I'm subconsciously afraid of leaving my house for a long time since I'm not used to traveling or staying away for long. Still, they were full shifts and I'm extremely happy with the resultsー here's the list of dr's 🙂‍↕️

first accidental shift (UA in my town)

pijama party at my house

late night bike ride w bakugo

exploring an "abandoned" asylum

In terms of "realism" of course everything felt real, because it was real. In my case every dr was in 3d, so the people were exactly as they are here; everyone had their own personality and traits, and I think that's what most makes you realize that you are actually there and you're not dreaming. You come to the realization that your friends are actually real people and not characters anymore, and by being close totl them, you also realize how human they are: they each have their favorite TV shows, hobbies, their own way of speaking... It's kind of insane when you first realize it.

✮⋆˙ 𝑃𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒

I spent time with Bakugo, Kirishima, Shinsou, Ojiro and the girls so far. One thing I've noticed is that sexism is not even a thing in my drs, and that genuinely shocked me. Like, in other realities women are not seen as objects and are actually treated like people with feelings. No sexist jokes, no weird stares, no lewd comments, not a single hand touching where it shouldn't be. It was actually insane to me. What shocked me the most is that Katsuki of all people is the most respectful to women in 1A along with Kirishima. 😭

If you're curious, here's a brief description of their personalities ˙ᵕ˙

𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢: he looks the meanest, but he's actually the sweetest after kirishima. He always has his death stare mode on and the first that would come in mind is that he's either real mad or really bored- truth is, that's just his resting face and he can switch emotions in the blink of an eye. He's the most caring and nurturing man I've ever met, surprisingly. He gets annoyed really fast and has an incredibly short temper, but despite that, he can be really romantic and nice when he wants to. Also his hair is reeeeally soft and his muscles and build are insane lol😭 I could talk about him for hours (he also rides a black bike and secretly cares a lot about deku and his health/safety)

𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚: the sweetest of them all. He's like a brother to me and trust me when I tell you he's EXTREMELY EMPATHETIC, like, empath final boss typa shit. You cannot hide literally anything from him because he'll notice it anyway, and he's always waiting for you with open arms whenever he does. He gives the best hugs ever and he's also really fond of older women, always offering them his help or keeping them company (my mom and him adored each other😭🥹). He's an extrovert and could talk with walls if they could answer back lmao. Also, his hair hardens as well when he actives his quirk and he loves pranking people whenever he hugs someone by turning his quirk on

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐚: that girl is nosy af but she's sooo funny. Probably the funniest of the group. She's obsessed with dragon trainer and jjk, and would kill to buy a collab doll-dragon collection that happened in my dr. She likes to tease her girls and she's probably the bravest out of our female group, although it's clear that she's scared even when she's acting confident. Really loud, but really nice and tends to include everyone. Once again, she's really nosy and devours any type gossip up lmaooo🙏🏻

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐮: Shinsou is my bsf and he's introverted af. I barely remember his face, because I was kind of sleeping when I was interacting with him. I remember we were in math class and I was falling asleep by how boring it was, and when he noticed, he started pinching my hands and cracking jokes in my ears so that I would wake up 😭💘. He's really tall and his voice is so deep it literally shakes my core lol, also he uses a perfume that's really strong and menly. Eventually he gave up on trying not to let me fall asleep and he leaned closer with his shoulder so that I could sleep with my head resting on it. I swear I could feel him smile, but I was too tired and fell asleep. He's so precious it makes my heart want to cry

As for Ojiro and the other girls, I can barely remember them. Ojiro was also shaking my hand to wake me up in math class and mouthing me to stay awake, but I was too sleepy to register anything- he seemed really nice though. The girls on the other hand were with me exploring around that abandoned building, but I had just shifted and I hadn't realized that yet, so I didn't pay attention to their appearance but instead to what was happening and the adrenaline rush I was having.

Also, present mic was the first person I ever heard in my first accidental shift. THAT MAN IS SO FUCKING LOUD I'M SURPRISED THAT MY EARDRUMS WERE INTACT YET. LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK. AND HE'S SO STRICT THAT IT'S INSUFFERABLE, GOD 😭😭

Let me know if you want a story time or if you want any more details. I plan on making a story time about my accidental shift and the abandoned asylum one, because what happened there is so fucking funny it's a pity not to tell.

𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢,

✮⋆˙ 𝒦𝒾𝒶

[erwinsvow]

I hope the prison letter reader is slightly insane like cop who tries to bust the family and tries to scare her into talking, and it's like😂

"You know he killed people committed fraud and arson, right?"

"I've no clue, and even if he did, I still love him," knowing he did those things😭

Or

" he's felon and told everyone you were married before you met"

"Yeah, but we're married now, so it's ok"

Also, the side eye her friends give her

i just moved around my entire room and i need to finish cleaning but i can't stop reading all these asks i love u guys its like u all live in my head. this is SENDING ME like i love this. that cop thinks this random new girl is the perfect person to break, that she probably doesn't know about everything but has probably seen enough suss things to help them get an arrest. and then they realize she actually doesn't know anything and not only that, but she finally has a man she loves (other anon who sent that ask about pope being reader's first bf im looking at you bc i love that n im answering that next) and there is no way in hell some cop is taking him away from her. like there is nooo way she is going back to prison letters. i am actually crying at the "he told everyone you were married before you met" and she'd be like "so now you arrest people for being romantic? what is wrong with you?" she is so delulu im crying i love her theyre perfect together. she'd be so unphased. my favorite thing that maybe one day i'll write is like after a job imagine one of the others got shot or just hurt badly like a dislocation and pope gets a little scratch and so they show up at her place for help and instead of helping the bleeding out brother she runs to pope and his little cut. guys i can't akdgsjf i can hear deran going "he's fine! what happened to the hippocratic oath?!"

her FRIENDSSSS can you imagine. i'm a bit insane so i wrote her living/working in chula vista but obvi she'd move in with pope eventually. her friends are like andrew...? isn't that...????? and she'd be like yeah🤪what a story to tell the kids huh!

[the-narwhals-awaken]

Bloody Hearts Bingo Day 12

Prompt: Smile, General | Sunshine smile/smile like sunshine

Kisuke let his breathing slow. Despite what many people thought, the main part of his soulscape- the 'welcoming hall', so to speak- was not a charnel house. It was not a laboratory, or a killing field, or a mirror of a place he'd ever been as an adult.

The part he was currently sitting in, kneeling in front of a tea-table, was a noble's recieving hall, every aspect perfected and made of exquisite quality materials. Even the Great Noble Houses- the ones still in prominence, at least- could not boast of such quality, but Benihime would settle for nothing less in her domain, especially in the parts of it that outsiders were permitted to step within. Many presumed much, but those who stepped in the realm of the Crimson Princess were reminded very directly that her title came with weight.

Kisuke poured two cups of tea- one for him, one for his princess. Benihime knelt across from him, her usual layers of immaculate robes slimmed down to two worn over an almost-sheer red dress. Still, she looked the royalty that he pretended not to be. "It will be war."

He nodded, taking a sip of his tea. It was a blend he never shared- tasting far too much like blood for others to be pleased, but the iron tang settled the part of him made for killing. "First Aizen, then onii-san, then chichi-ue." Names had power, and he would not forget who they were to him. "It will be slow to end."

"You will prepare them," she said, relentless as the tide, "they are ours and everyone who sees them will know."

"They will be safer if it is not immediately obvious that they are ours," he countered, watching as she took her own long sip, "if only to allow for people to underestimate them."

She shrugged. "They are young- they will be underestimated. Mark them and make sure they know whose they are- they will kneel happily at our feet and all shall know who we are." The one downside of Benihime's viciousness was a significant distaste for concealing their power and ability to the degree Kisuke preferred to work at. It was a fair point- he often made himself seem a fool for no reason, preferring to be mocked than feared, while she would rather be feared for what they were than mocked for what they were not.

Kisuke had to force the image out of his head. The thought of any of them- strong and clever and growing more so by the day- going to their knees willingly, happily, was intoxicating, and he could not be distracted while planning. "They will lose trust, lose chances- too many people hate me for association to be safe."

Benihime smiled like the sun- sharp and unrelenting, impossible to ignore and just as able to bring things to life as ruin them. "Either they will keep them close because they need them or they will die, Kisa-chan. You know as well as I that you will bring them along and they will be damned because of it."

He bowed his head, acknowledging her words. "Very well. Yet we will go slow- steadily build it up, let it slide under the awareness of those who do not know to look. Let them see and yet be blind, let them have all the pieces and be unable to piece together the solution."

The smile on Benihime's face at his words reminded Kisuke that despite the way many spirits often socialized, space blurring and weaving together, Benihime had always had as much space as she'd needed. "And as for yourself?" She gestured rather pointedly to a clothing stand that appeared almost out of nowhere.

The robes that hung on it were a set that Kisuke hadn't worn since they'd been fitted. Rich and deeply embroidered, the fabrics were suited for a prince- which, despite his protestations, he was. More importantly, they were meant for a prince to go to war in, layers of silk forming armor and each thread soaked in power till it almost dripped off of it.

"Not yet, my princess," Kisuke said, averting his gaze and taking another sip of tea. "Perhaps for Chichi-ue." He stood, running his fingers along the topmost layer of fabric, then gently flicking it back to where it was stored. "Greaves, perhaps? Some form of shin guard, as well. Perhaps a chestpiece, but we'd have to adjust that to mobility and hiding well and I'd rather wait till after this next round of growth spurts finishes before we worry about something like that."

Benihime simply steered him away from the tea-table, pushing him back down to his knees in the middle of the hall, just in front of her seat- a low bench, crafted as elegantly as everything else there but almost understated despite it. "You know they'll have to find out, before this is done." It was the kindest thing she'd said all evening- just as he could be harsh, she could be gentle, though for both of them even their kindest touches were barely restrained from drawing blood.

Kisuke bowed his head and hummed acknowledgement. A weight settled on his head, and he knew what she'd done- long ago, when they were both children scrabbling for survival in the Rukongai, she'd hidden the part of him that shone with his father's power. Now she was returning it to him, ensuring that he could not hide.

A crown was a small price to pay, in the end, for the fulfillment of all his duties.

[necrotic-nephilim]

so. now that my accidental hiatus is over and i've rattled myself free of the grave, i just want to give a general update on this blog and where i'm at with it. because i do love this blog and want to post, but when i made this blog, the intention of it was canon-based metas and discussions around DC that were often ship-focused, but also just generally my opinions on the fandom. and of course i enjoy rolling around in the filth and having a lot of sexual/dead dove posts on main, but it did overwhelm me a bit when that became my entire blog and i got more asks than i could keep up with.

so in the future, i think i'm going to stagger how fast i answer asks and try to find a healthy mix of my own metas, dead dove shipposting, and whatever else i want to put here. and while i don't want to close asks because i invite discourse my way, i do have to say i will be much slower to answering them. sometimes we will be whores on main, sometimes we will be analyzing this fandom and it's source material on main. who is to say. but either way, we're back and no one can get rid of me.

[hickeygender]

of all the star wars movies, which of them do y'all 1) enjoy the most 2) consider the best quality and 3) think you've rewatched the most. add your answers in the reblogs or replies, i'm genuinely curious how much of an overlap there is within everyone's three answers. mine don't overlap at all! they're revenge of the sith, empire strikes back, and the force awakens :^)

[hellonerf]

unusual face post where i don't bring up caname marriage. all of their gangstalia childhood photos have been shown! i've been very captivated by their answers

the question is virtually the same for each of them with different wordings. here lord and owner have a goal for their future. between a distinguished admirable grown up and a welcoming hotel runner. meanwhile hero and parrain's answer are like. so vague. [(i?) can be anything] and [(be?) me] makes me laugh. what are these kids even saying? such blatant different personality dynamics. i actually don't have any coherent words i just point at a difference and go wowwww coool(keys jingling in front of me). but really. how sweet!!! the different similar answers

[soggy-fishsticks]

guys ive been drawing so much lately I've been starting to actually hate it 🙁

[journey-to-the-attic]

THE DRAWING WITH DIA WAS SO CUTE!!! Could you do one with Asmo but she asks him to play dress up??

(If you have time and motivation ofc!!! Not forcing!!)

((ALSO ILYSM AHHHH YOU'RE MY FAV CREATOR))

normally it'd take me longer to do an extended art reply but inspiration struck with this one

(alternate final panel where the dress-up outfits are mulan and mushu instead):